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5*v \ v , V fi % \^ \ « ^ /Q \ c - * ; . O ' ^ ' A^ ^ ^ v> . ' <\ N %. o ^ ^ b^* ° ■4 <-/■ ti HESERVE SISTCjRiCAi SOCIETY, CLEVELAND, Q, THE WORKS OF FRANCIS BACON, BARON VERULAM, VISCOUNT ST. ALBANS, AND LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND. 5^4 _ — Hi I MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS Philosophy, Morality, and Religion. LONDON: PRINTED BY J. CUNDEE, IVY-LANE, FOR M. JONES, PATERNOSTER-ROW, 1802. West. Ees. Hte*. Soc. V/ Contents. Page OPHTHEGMS 1 lamenta Rationalia : or, Elegant Sentences 76 r t Notes for Civil Conversation 88 L er to Lord Mountjoye, on the Colours of Good and /il 90 ragment of the Colours of Good and Evil 92 e of the Colours, or Appearances of Good and Evil, and their Degrees, as Places of Persuasion and Dissuasion, and their several Fallacies and the Elen- ches of them . . . . 94 New Atlantis 117 Letter to Sir Henry Saville 184 Helps for the Intellectual Powers 186 Helps of the Intellectual Powers 1 92 Filura Labyrinthi, sive Formula Inquisitionis 196 Sequela Chartarum ; sive, Inquisitio Legitima de Calore et Frigore , 212 The Characters of a Believing Christian, in Paradoxes and seeming Contradictions 226 Praver made and used by the Lord Chancellor Bacon 234 An Essay on Death 238 Letter to the Marquis Fiat, relating to the Essays . . 247 To the Earl of Arundel and Surrey : just before his death, being the last Letter he ever wrote 248 The last Will of Francis Bacon Viscount St. Alban . . 249 PREFACE. IN our introductory remarks to the present volume, it is un- necessary, after the various panegyrics which have been passed upon its illustrious author, to say much of that original ge- nius, and those vast acquirements which have so justly con- ferred on him the title of the first great reformer of philoso- phy, and marked out in the progress of sound knowledge and the elucidation of true science, paths that have been so suc- cessfully trodden by a Boyle, a Locke, and even a Newton himself. This miscelany of Lord Bacon's productions, is intended as a companion to the elegant edition of his Essays, just pub- lished *; and will, wt trust, be found to possess, both in point of judicious selection, and valuable matter, genuine claims to public favour. Among the articles which it contains are his Apophthegms — Ornamenta Rationalia ; or, Ele- gant Sentences — the Colours of Good and Evil — the New Atlantis — Filum Labyrinthi — Sequela Char- tarum, and the Essay on Death. In the Apophthegms he proves himself a master in the art of relating short pleasant stories, the useful application of which cannot be mistaken by any common understanding ; and his Elegant Sentences may even now rank as models of perfec- tion in this species of composition They are the result of deep and h)ig refection ; for he well knew that nature is a * See the end of the volume. 1V PREFACE. labyrinth in whic\ the very haste we move with makes us lose our way. It is in those precepts, the standards of human action, that Bacon particularly excelled. They are all found- ed in a profound knowledge of life, and in a most accurate discrimination of the motives by which the passions of mankind are actuated ; and they are strengthened by a force of siynili- tude, which neither sophistry nor sarcasm in their happiest vein can weaken. It has been wisely observed by Dr. Johnson, that " he may be justly numbered among the benefactors of mankind, who contracts the great rules of life into short sen- tences, thai may be easily impressed on the memory, and taught by frequent r recur habitually to the mind;" and those who peruse the following, will not deny that our author is entitled to an eminent rank in the list- — ■ — " Round dealing is the honour of a mans nature; and a mixture of falsehood is like allay in gold or silver, which may make the metal work the better, but embaseth it. " As in nature things move more violently to their place: so virtue in ambition, is violent; in authority, settled and calm. " God never wrought miracles to convince atheists, because his ordinary works convince it, " All precepts concerning kings, are, in effect, compre' heiided in these remembrances; remembe, thou art a man ; remember thou art God's vicegerent. The one bridleth their power, and the other their will, " It were good that men, in their innovations, vmuld fol- low the example of time itself, which indeed innovateth greatly, hut quietly, and by degrees scarce to be perceived. "The best governments, are always subject to be like the fairest crystals, where every icicle or grain is seen y which in a fouler stone is never perceived." PREFACE. V Of the acuteness of Bacon's discernment and the rare pa- tience with which he was accustomed to investigate subjects of uncommon difficulty, we have a memorable instance inhis Co- lours of Good and Evil. What was obscure in Aristotle, he has cleared up] what was subtile, and sometimes altogether unintelligible by the great majority of readers, he has simpli- fied in language equally plain and convincing, and many seem- ing contradictions, which had for ages baffled the acuteness of commentators, he has satisfactorily reconciled. Although in this essay, he has had his light from the Stagyrite, yet he has so improved upon his original, that the work may be truly called his own. The New Atlantis abounds in such rich and curious mate- rials, that every admirer of rational enquiry and universal knowledge, must lament he left it in an unfinished state. De- signed to comprehend in its various branches the animate and inanimate world, it was undertaken upon a scale, perhaps, too great for the genius and acquirements of any single mind to bring the undertaking to perfection. In the part which he accomplished, Lord Bacon has, however, proved, that uo man could be better qualifie ■ for the arduous task than him- self. His description of the institution or order, called Solo- mon's House, evinces a conception capable of embracing his subject in its most minute details, and a perspicuity of ar- rangement which we look for in vain in the philosophical works of antiquity, The vast extent of the plan is manifest at least in its outlines from his own v:ords, on the institution; — " It is dedicated to the study of the works and creatures of God;" and in effecting the obj ect of this new society, which isthe know- ledge of causes, and secret motions of things, aud the enlarging of the bounds of human empire to the accomplishment of all things possible, he gives a finished example of the lucidus ordo. Having set forth the end of their foundation, he describes the b VI PREFACE. preparations and instruments they have for their vwrks; — the several employments and functions whereto the members are respectively assigned, and the ordinances and rites which theu observe. It will be sufficient to observe that in these enume- rations, no topic is omitted which experience had taught him could be useful or entertaining to mankind. In the Filum Labyrinthi, the obstacles to the progress of sci- ence in his time, are exposed with a clearnes and brevity which cannot be too much admired. Speaking of the opinions winch he entertained, he says: " He (Lord Bacon) thought also that knowledge is uttered to men in a form, as if every thing were finished ; for it is reduced into arts and methods, which in their division do seem to include all that may be. And how weakly soever the parts are filled, yet they carry the shew and reason of a total; and thereby the writings of some received authors, go for the very art: whereas antiquity used to deliver the knowledge, which the mind of man had gathered in ohservatioris, aphorisms, or short or dispersed sentences, or small tractates of some parts, that they had diligently meditated and laboured; which did invite men, both to ponder that which was invented, and to add and supply further. But now sciences are deliver- td as to be believed, and accepted, and not to be examined and further discovered; and the succession is between master arid disciplt, and not between inventor and continuer or advancer ; and, therefore sciences stand at a stay, and have done for many ages, and that which is positive is fixed, and that which is question is kept question, so as the columns of no farther proceeding are pitched. And therefore he saw plainly, men had cut themselves off from further in- vention; and that it is no marvel, that that is not obtained, which hath not been attempted, but rather shut out and de- barred/ 3 PREFACE. VII How Locke and Newton have profited from these remarks, the enlightened world can attest. Sequela Chart arum ; or, the disquisition respecting heat and cold, although it may be considered as imperfect in some points of view, in consequence of recent improvements in that part of natural philosopliy, is generally supported by the force of experiment. Of the true christian spirit by which the mind of this great man was animated, we have irresistible evidence in Jiis Cha- racter of a Believing Christian, exemplified in Paradoxes and seeming Contradictions ; in the Essay on Death, and in the Prayer, made and used by himself The awe inspired by the commencement of the Essay must be felt — it cannot be de- scribed. How simple, yet how luminous and awful are the opening sentences ! " I have often thought upon death, and find it the least of all evils. All that which is past is a dream; and he that hopes or depends upon time coming, dreams waking. So much of our life, as we have discovered, is already dead ; and all those hours which we share, even from the breast of our mother, until we return to our grandmother the earth, are part of our dying days; whereof even this is one, and those that succeed are of tire same nature, for we die daily ; and as others have given place to us, so we must give way to others." We must not pass unnoticed his Short Notes for Civil Conversation, which contain precepts, that miglit be well expanded into a large volume. His Helps of the Intellec- tual Powers, in which he gives many excellent rules for governing, confirming, and enlarging, by custom and exer- cise, the motions and faculties of the wit and memory. This volume also contains Two Letters, the one relative to the Essays, addressed to the Marquis Fiat, the other, which b2 Vlll PREFACE. he wrote just before his death to the Earl of Arundel and Sur- rey, * and his Last Will. Most of the articles published in this edition were metho- dized, enriched, or originally written by Lord Bacon, in the hours of disgrace and retirement. Although his character had been justly stained by his own corruption, and his conni- vance at the profligate venality of his dependants, his genius continued unimpaired, and, seemed to derive new vigour from the privacy of his contemplations, and his melancholy eiperi- ence of the instability of all human grandeur. Adversity, " Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, " Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;" was to his jihilosophicul mind the source of additional fame, and his guilt and his misfortunes proved but incitements to use- ful and honourable studies. To the last moment he entertained a just and dignified sense of the importance of his labours to mankind, and this senti- ment is expressed in a single passage of his will. Having be- queathed his soul and body in the usual form, directed the place of his interment, and stated the charge of his funeral, he says — " For my name and memory, I leave it to men's charitable speeches, and to foreign nations, and the next ages." Posterity has not only acknowledged the justice of this appeal, but even seemed desirous to forget that he ever offended; and the animated effusions of a Thomson may be considered as the eulogy of his own countrymen as well as that of foreign nations: * He died in the house of Lord Arundel, and in the letter, the last he wrote before his death, he compares himself to a celebrated philoso- pher of antiquity, Pliny the elder; who perished by enquiring with too dangerous a curiosity, into the first great eruption of Vesuvius PREFACE. IX Thine is a Bacon ; hapless in his choice, Unfit to stand the civil storm of state, And thro' the smooth barbarity of courts, With firm but pliant virtue, forward still To urge his course : him for the studious shade Kind Nature form'd, deep, comprehensive, clear, Exact, and elegant; in one rich soul, Plato, the Stagyrite, and Tullyjoin'd. The great deliverer he ! who from the gloom Of cloiiter'd monks, and jargon-teaching schools, Led forth the true Philosophy, there long Held in the magic chain of words and forms, And definitions void : he led her forth, Daughter of Heaven ! that slow descending still, Investigating sure the chain of things, Wiih radiant finger points to Heaven again. The character given by Dryden nf Plutarch's style may be affixed to that of Lord Bacon ; and is so happily expressed, that it would be unjust not to quote the very words ; " As for Plutarch, his style is so particular, that there is none of the ancients to whom ice can properly resemble him. And the reason is obvious; for being conversant in so great a variety of authors, and collecting from all of them, what bethought most excellent, out of the confusion, or rather the mix- ture of all their styles, he formed his own, which partaking of each, was yet none of them, but a compound of them all, like the Corinthian metal, which had in it gold, and brass, and silver, and yet ioas a species by itself." The engraving prefixed to this volume, representing Lord Bacon sitting, is executed after an original print of the mo- nument erected to him in St. Michael's church near St. Alban's, by Sir Thomas Meautys, with the following inscription ■ — — FRANCISCVS BACON BARO DE VERVLAM S*'. ALB ni . VIC" SEV NOTIORIBVS TITVE1S SCIENTIARVM LVMEN FACVNDI^ LEX SIC SEDEBAT. QVI POSTQVAM OMNIA NATVRALIS SAPIENTTJE ET CIVILIS ARCANA EVOLVISSET NATVR.E DECRETVM EXPLEVIT COMPOSITA SOLVANTVR AN DNI. M. DC. XXVI. £TAT S : LXVI. TANTI VIRI MEM : THOMAS MEAVTYS SVPERSTITIS CVLTOR DEFVNCTI ADMIRATOR II . P PREFACE BY LORD BACOX. JULIUS CiESAR did write a collection of apophthegms, as appear in an epistle of Cicero ; so did Macrobius a con" sular man. I need say no more for the worth of a writing of that nature. It is pity Caesar's book is lost : for I ima- gine they were collected with judgment and choice ; whereas that of Plutarch and Stobseus, and much more the modern ones, draw much of the dregs. Cert inly they are of ex- cellent use. They are mucrones verborum, pointed speeches. " The words of the wise are as goads," saith Solomon. Ci- cero prettily calleth them Salinas, salt-pits, that you may ex- tract salt out of, and sprinkle.it where you will. They serve to be interlaced in continued speech. They serve to be re- cited upon occasion of themselves. They serve if you take out the kernel of them, and make them your own. I have for my recreation among more serious studies, collected some few of them : * therein fanning the old, not omitting any, because they are vulgar, (for many vulgar ones are excellent good ;) nor for the meanness of the person, but because they are dull and flat ; and adding many new, that otherwise would have died. * This collection his lordship made out of his memory, without turn- ing to any book. APOPHTHEGMS. i. V^UEEN Elizabeth, the morrow of her co- ronation, (it being the custom to release prisoners, at the inauguration of a prince), went to the chapel; and in the great chamber, one of her courtiers, who was well known to her, either out of his own motion, or by the instigation of a wiser man, presented her with a petition; and before a great number of courtiers, besought her with a loud voice, that now this good time, there might be four or five principal prisoners more released : those were the four evangelists and the apostle St. Paul, who had been long shut up in an unknown tongue, as it were in prison ; so as they could not converse with the common people. The Queen answered very gravely, that it was best first to en- quire of them, whether they would be released or no. 2. Queen Ann Bullen, at the time when she was led to be beheaded in the Tower, called one of the king's privy chamber to her, and said unto him, commend me to the king, and tell him, that he hath been ever constant in his course of advanc- ing me ; from a private gentlewoman he made me a marchioness j and from a marchioness a queen ; and now, that he hath left no higher degree of earthly honour, he intends to crown my innocency with the glory of martyrdom. 3. His majesty James the first, king of Great Britain, having made unto his parliament an ex- cellent and large declaration, concluded thus ; 1 have now given you a clear mirror of my mind ; use it therefore like a mirror, and take heed how you let it fall*or how you soil it with your breath. 4. A great officer in France was in danger to have lost his place j but his wife, by her suit and means making, made his peace ; whereupon a pleasant fellow said, that he had been crush'd* but that he saved himself upon his horns. 5. His majesty said to his parliament at another time, finding there were some causeless jealousies sown amongst them ; that the king and his people, (whereof the parliament is the representative body,) were as husband and wife ; and therefore, that of all other things, jealousy was between them most pernicious. 6* His majesty, when he thought his council might note in him some variety in businesses, though indeed he remained constant, would say, that the sun many times shineth watery ; but it is not the sun which causeth it, but some cloud rising betwixt us and the sun : and when that is scatter- ed, the sun is as it was, and comes to his former brightness. 7. His majesty, in his answer to the book of the cardinal of Evereux, (who had in a grave ar- gument of divinity, sprinkled many witty orna- ments of poesy and humanity), saith ; that these flowers were like blue, and yellow, and red flowers in the corn, which make a pleasant shew to those that look on, but they hurt the corn. 8. Sir Edward Coke being vehement against the two provincial councils of Wales, and the north, said to the king ; there was nothing there but a kind of confusion and hotch-potch of justice: one while they were a star-chamber ; another while a kingVbench ; another, a common-pleas ; another, a commission of oyer and terminer. His majesty answered ; why, Sir Edward Coke, they be like houses in progress, where I have not, nor can have, such distinct rooms of state, as I have here at Whitehall, or at Hampton-court. 9. The commissioners of the treasury moved the King for the relief of his estate, to disafforest some forests of his, explaining themselves of such forests as lay out of the way, not near any of the king's houses, nor in the course of his progress ; whereof he should never have use nor pleasure. Why, (saith the king) do you think that Solomon had use and pleasure of all his three hundred con- cubines ? 10. His majesty, when the committees of both houses of parliament presented unto him the instru- ment of union of England and Scotland, was merry with them ; and amongst other pleasant speeches, shewed unto them the laird of Lawreston a Scotch- man, who was the tallest and greatest man that was to be seen, and said ; well, now we are all one, yet none of you will say, but here is one Scotchman greater than any Englishman, which was an ambiguous speech ; but it was thought he meant it of himself. 11. His majesty would say to the lords of his council when they sate upon any great matter, and came from council in to him, well, you have set, but what have you hatched? 12. When the arch-duke did raise his siege from the Grave, the then secretary came to queen Eliza- beth. The queen (having first intelligence there- of), said to the secretary, wote you what ? The arch-duke is risen from the grave. He answered ; what, without the trumpet of the arch-angel ? The queen replied, yes ; without the sound of trumpet. 13. Queen Elizabeth was importuned much by my lord of Essex, to supply divers great offices that had been long void : the queen answered nothing to the matter; but rose up on the sudden, and said : I am sure my office will not be long void. And yet at that time there was much speech of troubles, and divisions about the crown, to be after her decease : but they all vanished ; and King James came in, in a profound peace. 14. The council did make remonstrance unto Queen Elizabeth, of the continual conspiracies against her life ; and namely, that a man was late- ly taken, who stood ready in a very dangerous and suspicious manner to do the deed : and they shewed her the weapon, wherewith he thought to have acted it. And therefore they advised her, that she should go less abroad to take the air, weak- ly attended, as she used. But the queen answer- ed ; that she had rather be dead, than put in cus- tody. 15. Henry the fourth of France his queen was young with child ; count Soissons, that had his ex- pectation upon the crown, when it was twice or thrice thought that the queen was with child be- fore, said to some of his friends, that it was but with a pillow. This had some ways come to the king's ear ; who kept it till such time as the queen waxed great : then he called the count of Soissons to him, and said, laying his hand upon the queen's belly ; come cousin, is this a pillow ? The count of Soissons answered ; yes, sir, it is a pillow for all France to sleep upon. 16. The said king Henry the fourth was moved by his parliament to war against the protestants : he answered, yes, I mean it ; I will make every one of you captains: you shall have companies as- signed you. The parliament observing whereunto his speech tended, gave over, and deserted the mo- tion. 17. Queen Elizabeth was wont to say, upon the commission of sales, that the commissioners used her like strawberry-wives, that layed two or three great strawberries at the mouth of their pot, and all the rest were little ones ; so they made her two or three good prizes of the first particulars, but fell straightways. 1 8. Queen Elizabeth used to say of her instruc- tions to great officers, that they were like to gar- ments, straight at the first putting on, but did by and by, wear loose enough. 19. A great officer at court, when my lord of Essex was first in trouble ; and that he, and those that dealt for him, would talk much of my lord's friends, and of his enemies, answered to one of them ; I will tell you, 1 know but one friend and one enemy my lord hath ; and that one friend is the queen, and that one enemy is himself. 20. The book of deposing king Richard the se- cond, and the coming in of Henry the fourth, sup- posed to be written by doctor Hay ward, who was committed to the Tower for it, had much incensed queen Elizabeth ; and she asked Mr. Bacon, being then of her council learned, whether there were any treason contained in it ? Who intending to do him a pleasure, and to take off the queen's bit- terness with a merry conceit, answered; no, madam, for treason I cannot deliver opinion that there is any, but very much felony : the queen apprehending it gladly, asked, how ; and wherein? Mr. Bacon answered, because he had stolen many of his sentences and conceits out of Cornelius Tacitus. 21. Queen Elizabeth being to resolve upon a great officer, and being by some, that canvassed for others, put in some doubts of that person, whom she meant to advance, called for Mr. Bacon; and told him, she was like one with a lanthorn seeking a man, and seeming unsatisfied in the choice she had of a man for that place. Mr. Bacon answered her, that he had heard that in old time, there was usually painted on the church walls the day of doom, 8 and God sitting in judgment, and saint Michael by him, with a pair of balances; and the soul, and the good deeds in the one balance; and the faults, and the evil deeds in the other : and the soul's balance went up far too light. Then was our lady painted with a great pair of beads, who cast them into the light balance, and brought down the scale : so he said ; place and authority, which were in her ma- jesty's hands to give, were like our lady's beads, which though men, through any imperfections, were too light before, yet when they were cast in, made weight competent. 22. Queen Elizabeth was dilotary enough in suits, of her own nature; and the lord treasurer Burleigh being a wise man, and willing therein to feed her humour, would say to her ; madam, you do well to let suiters stay ; for I shall tell you, bis dat, qui cito dat 5 if you grant them speedily, they will come again the sooner. 23. Sir Nicholas Bacon, who was keeper of the great seal of England, when queen Elizabeth, in her progress, came to his house at Gorhambury,. and said to him ; my lord, what a little house have you gotten ? answered her, madam, my house is well, but it is you that have made me too great for my house. 24. There was a conference in parliament, be- tween the lords house, and the house of commons, about a bill jf accountants, which came down from the lords to the commons : which bill prayed, that the lands of accountants, whereof they were seized when they entered upon their office, might be liable to their arrears to the queen. But the commoners desired, that the bill might not look back to accountants that were already, but extend only to accountants hereafter. But the lord trea- surer said ; why, 1 pray you, if you had lost your purse by the way, would you look forwards, or would you look back ? The queen hath lost her purse. 25. My lord of Leicester, favourite to queen Elizabeth, was making a large chace about Corn- bury park ; meaning to enclose it with posts and rails ; and one day was casting up his charge what it would come to. Mr. Goldingham, a free spoken man, stood by, and said to my lord; methinks your lordship goeth not the cheapest way to work. Why Goldingham, said my lord ? Marry, my lord, said Goldingham, count you but upon the posts, for the country will find you railing. 26. The lord-keeper, Sir Nicholas Bacon, was asked his opinion by queen Elizabeth, of one of these monopoly licences ? And he answered, ma- dam, will you have me speak the truth 1 Licentia omnes deteriores sumos : we are all the worse for licences. 11 27. My lord of Essex, at the succour of Roan, made twenty four knights, which at that time was a great number. Divers of those gentlemen were of weak and small means ; which when Queen Elizabeth heard, she said ; my lord might have done well to have built his alms-house, before he made his knights. 28. The deputies of the reformed religion, after the massacre which w r as at Paris upon Saint Bar- tholomew's day, treated with the king and queen - mother, and some other of the council, for a peace. Both sides were agreed upon the articles. The question was, upon the security, for the perform- ance. After some particulars propounded and re- jected, the queen-mother said, why, is not the word of a king sufficient security ? One of the de- puties answered ; no, by St. Bartholomew, madam. 29. When peace was renewed with the French in England, divers of the great counsellors were presented from the French with jewels : the Lord Henry Howard, being then Earl of Northampton, and a counsellor, was omitted. Whereupon the king said to him, my lord, how happens it that you have not a jewel as well as the rest? My lord answered, according to the fable in iEsop; non sum gallus, itaque non reperi gemmam. 30. Sir Nicolas Bacon being appointed a judge for the northern circuit, and having brought his 10 trials that came before him to such a pass, as the passing of sentence on malefactors, he was by one of the malefactors mightily importuned for to save his life ; which when nothing that he had said did avail, he at length desired his mercy on the ac- count of kindred. Prithee, said my lord judge, how came that in ? Why, if it please you, my lord, your name is Bacon, and mine is Hog, and in all ages Hog and Bacon have been so near kin- dred, that they are not to be separated. Ay, but replied judge Bacon, you and I cannot be kindred, except you be hanged; for Hog is not Bacon until it be well hanged.. 3 1 . Two scholars and a countryman travelling upon the road, one night lodged all in one inn, and supped together, where the scholars thought to have put a trick upon the countryman, which was thus ; the scholars appointed for supper two pigeons, and a fat capon, which being ready, was brought up, and they having set down, the one scholar took up one pigeon, the other scholar took the other pigeon, thinking thereby that the coun- try man should have sate still, until that they were ready for the carving of the capon ; which he perceiving, took the capon and laid it on his trencher, and thus said; daintily contrived, every man a bird. 12 32. Jack Roberts was desired by his taylor, when the reckoning grew somewhat high, to have a bill of his hand. Roberts said, I am content, but you must let no man know it. When the tay- lor brought in the biH, he tore it as in choler, and said to him, you use me not well, you promised me that no man should know it, and here you have put in, Be it known unto all men by these presents. 33. Sir Walter Rawleigh was wont to say of the ladies of Queen Elizabeth's privy chamber, and bed chamber, that they were like witches, they could do hurt, but they could do no good. 34-. There was a minister deprived for incon- formity, who said to some of his friends, that if they deprived him, it should cost an hundred men's lives. The party understood it, as if being a tur- bulent fellow, he would have moved sedition, and complained of him ; whereupon being con- vented and opposed upon that speech, he said his meaning was, that if he lost his benefice, he would practise physic, and then he thought he should kill an hundred men in time. 35. Secretary Bourn's son kept a gentleman's wife in Shropshire, who lived from her husband with him ; when he was weary of her, he caused her husband to be dealt with to take her home, and offered him five hundred pounds for reparation ; 13 the gentleman went to Sir H. Sidney, to take his, advice upon this offer, telling him, that his wife promised now a new life ; and to tell him truth, five hundred pounds would come well with him ; and besides that sometimes he wanted a woman in his bed. By my truth, said Sir Henry Sidney, take her home, and take the money ; then whereas other cuckolds wear their horns plain, you may wear yours gilt. 36. When Rabelais, the great jester of France, lay on his death-bed, and they gave him the ex- treme unction, a familiar friend of his came to him afterwards, and asked him how he did ? Rabelais answered, even going my journey, they have greased my boots already. 37. Mr. Bromley solicitor, giving in evidence for a deed, which was impeached to be fraudu- lent, was urged by the counsel on the other side with this presumption, that in two former suits when title was made, that deed was passed over in silence, and some other conveyance stood upon: Mr. Justice Catiline taking in with that side, asked the solicitor, I pray thee, Mr. Solicitor, let me ask you a familiar question ; I have two geldings in my stable ; I have divers times business of im- portance, and still I send forth one of my geldings, and not the other ; would you not think I set him 14 aside for a jade? No, my lord, said Bromley, I would think you spared him for your own saddle. 38. Thales, as he looked upon the stars, fell in- to the water ; whereupon it was after said, that if he had looked into the water he might have seen the stars, but looking up to the stars he could not see the water. 39. A man and his wife in bed together, she to- wards the morning pretended herself to be ill at ease, desiring to lie on her husband's side, so the good man to please her came over her, making some short stay in his passage over, where she had not long Iain, but desired to lie in her old place again ; quoth he, how can it be effected ? She an- swered, come over me again. I had rather, said he, go a mile and a half about. 40. A thief being arraigned at the bar for steal- ing a mare, in his pleading urged many things in his own behalf, and at last nothing availing, he told the bench, the mare rather stole him, than he the mare ; which in brief he thus related : that passing over several grounds about his lawful occa- sions, he was pursued close by a fierce mastiff dog; and so was forced to save himself by leaping over a hedge, which being of an agile body he effected; and in leaping, a mare standing on the other side of the hedge, leaped upon her back, who running 15 furiously away with him, he could not by any means stop her, until he came to the next town, in which town the owner of the mare lived, and there was he taken, and here arraigned. 41. Master Mason of Trinity college, sent his pupil to another of the fellows, to borrow a book of him, who told him, I am loth to lend my books out of my chamber, but if it please thy tutor to come and read upon it in my chamber, he shall as long as he will. It was winter, and some days after the same fellow sent to Mr. Mason to borrow his bellows ; but Mr. Mason said to his pupil, I am loth to lend my bellows out of my chamber, but if thy tutor would come and blow the fire in my chamber, he shall as long as he will. 42. A notorious rogue being brought to the bar, and knowing his case to be desperate, instead of pleading, he took to himself the liberty of jesting, and thus said, I charge you in the king's name, to seize and take away that man (meaning the judge) in the red gown, for I go in danger of my life be- cause of him. 43. In Flanders, by accident, a Flemish tiler fell from the top of a house upon a Spaniard, and killed him, though he escaped himself: the next of the blood prosecuted his death with great violence, and when he was offered pecuniary recompence, nothing would serve him but lex talionis ; where- 16 upon the judge said to him, that if he did urge that sentence, it must be, that he should go up to the top of the house, and then fall down upon the tiler. 44. A rough-hewn seaman, being brought before a wise just-ass for some misdemeanour, was by him sent away to prison, and being somewhat re- fractory after he heard his doom, insomuch as he wxmld not stir a foot from the place where he stood, saying it was better to stand where he was, than goto a worse place: The justice thereupon to shew the strength of his learning, took him by the shoul- der, and said, thou shalt go nogus vogus, instead of nolens volens. 45. Francis the first of France, used for his pleasure sometimes to go disguised: so walking one day in the company of the cardinal of Bour- bon near Paris, he met with a peasant with a new pair of shoes upon his arm : so he called unto him, and said; by our lady these be good shoes, what did they cost thee ? The peasant said, guess ; the king said, I think some five sols. Saith the pea- sant, you have lyed, but a carlois. What, villain, said the cardinal of Bourbon, thou art dead, it is the king. The peasant replied; the devil take him , of you and me, that knew so much. 46. There was a young man in Rome, that was very like Augustus Caesar ; Augustus took know- ledge of him, and sent for the man, and asked 17 him, wasy our mother never at Rome ? He an- swered ; no, sir, but my father was. 47. A debauchM seaman being brought before a justice of the peace upon the account of swearing, was by the justice commanded to deposit his fine in that behalf provided, which was two shillings ; he thereupon plucking out of his pocket a half crown, asked the justice what was the rate he was to pay for cursing ; the justice told him, six-pence : quoth he then, a pox take you all for a company of knaves and fools, and there's half a crown for you, I will never stand changing of money. 48. Dionysius the elder, when he saw his son in many things very inordinate, said to him, did you ever know me do such things ? His son an- swered, no, but you had not a tyrant to your fa- ther ; the father replied no, nor you if you take these courses, will have a tyrant to your son. 49. Callisthenes the philosopher, that followed 'Alexander's court, and hated the king, being ask- ed by one, how one should become the famousest man in the world, answered, by taking away him that is. 50. Agesilaus, when one told him there was one did excellently counterfeit a nightingale, and would have had him heard him, said ; why, I have heard the nightingale herself. VOL. I. C 18 51. A great nobleman, upon the complaint of a servant of his a laid a citizen by the heels, think- ing to bend him to his servant's desire ; but the fel- low being stubborn, the servant ; ? came to his lord, and told him, your lordship I know hath gone as far as well you may, but it works not ; for yonder fellow is more perverse than before. Said my lord, let's forget him a while, and then he will remember himself. 52. A witty rogue coming into a lace- shop, said, he had occasion for some lace ; choice whereof being shewed him, he at last pitched" upon one pattern, and asked them, how much they would have for so much as would reach from ear to ear, for so much he had occasion for. They told him for so much : so some few words passing between them, he at last agreed, and told down his money for it, and began to measure on his own head, thus saving ; one ear is here, and the other is nailed to the pillory in Bristol, and I fear you have not so much of this lace by you at present as will perfect my bargain : therefore this piece of lace shall suf- fice at present in part of payment, and provide the rest with all expedition. 53. There was a captain sent to an exploit by his general with forces that were not likely to at- chieve the enterprize ; the captain said to him, 19 sir, appoint but half so many ; why, saith the general ? The captain answered ; because it is bet- ter fewer die than more. 54. There was a harbinger who had lodged a gentleman in a very ill room, who expostulated with him somewhat rudely ; but the harbinger carelessly said, you will take pleasure in it when you are out of it. 55. There is a Spanish adage, love without end hath no end ; meaning, that if it were begun not upon particular ends it would last. 56. A woman being suspected by her husband for dishonesty, and being by him at last pressed very hard about it, made him quick answer, with many protestations, that she knew no more of what he said, than the man in the moon. Now the captain of the ship called the moon, was the very man she so much loved. 57. An apprentice of London being brought before the chamberlain by his master for the sin of incontinency, even with his own mistress, the chamberlain thereupon gave him many Christian exhortations ; and at last he mentioned and press'd the chastity of Joseph, when his mistress tempted him with the like crime of incontinency. Ay, sir, said the apprentice ; but if Joseph's mistress had been as handsome as mine is, he could not have forborn. 20 58. Bias gave precept, love as if you should hereafter hate ; and hate as if you should hereafter love. 59. A company of scholars going together to catch conies, carried one scholar with them, which had not much more wit than he was born with ; and to him they gave in charge, that if he saw any, he should be silent, for fear of scaring of them. But he no sooner espied a company of rabbits be- fore the rest, but he cryed aloud, ecce multi cuni- culi, which in English signifies, behold many conies ; which he had no sooner said, but the co- nies ran to their burrows : and he being checked by them for it, answered, who the devil would have thought that the rabbits understood Latin ? 60. A Welchman being at a sessions-house, and seeing the prisoners hold up hands at the bar, re- lated to some of his acquaintance there, that the judges were good fortune-tellers; for if they did but look upon their hand, they could certainly tell whether they should live or die. 61. Solon compared the people unto the sea, and orators and counsellors to the winds ; for that the sea would be calm and quiet, if the winds did not trouble it. 62. A man being very jealous of his wife, inso- much that which way soever she went, he would be prying at her heels ; and she being so grieved 21 thereat, in plain terms told him, that if he did not for the future leave off his proceedings in that nature, she would graft such a pair of horns upon his head, that should hinder him from coming out of any door in the house. 63. A citizen of London passing the streets very hastily, came at last where some stop was made by carts ; and some gentlemen talking together, who knew him, where being in some passion that he could not suddenly pass ; one of them in this wise spoke unto him ; that others had passed by, and there was room enough, only they could not tell whether their horns were so wide as his. 64. A tinker passing Cheapside with his usual tone, have you any work for a linker ? An appren- tice standing at a door opposite to a pillory there set up, called the tinker, with an intent to put a jest upon him, and told him, that he should do very well if he would stop those two holes in the pillory ; to which the tinker answered, that if he would but put in his head and ears a while in that pillory, he would bestow both brass and nails upon him to hold him in, and give him his labour into the bargain. 65. A young maid having married an old man, was observed on the day of marriage to be some- what moody, as if she had eaten a dish of chums, which one of her bridemen observing, bid her be 22 cheary ; and told her moreover, that an old horse would hold out as long, and as well as a young one, in travel. To which she answered, stroking down her belly with her hand ; but not in this road, sir. 66. There was in Oxford a cowardly fellow that was a very good archer ; he was abused gross- ly by another, and moaned himself to Sir Walter Rawleigh, then a scholar, and asked his advice, what he should do to repair the wrong had been offered him; Rawleigh answered, why challenge him at a match of shooting. 67. Whitehead, a grave divine, was much es- teemed by queen Elizabeth, but not preferred, be- cause he was against the government of bishops, he was of a blunt stoical nature; he came one day to the queen, and the queen happened to say to him, I like thee the better, Whitehead, because thou livest unmarried. He answered, in troth, madam, I like you the worse for the same cause. 68. Doctor Laud said, that some hypocrites, and seeming mortified men, that held down their heads like bulrushes, were like the little images that they place in the very bowing of the vaults of churches, that look as if they held up the church, but are but puppets. 69. There was a curst page that his master whipt naked, and when he had been whipt, would not 23 put on his cloaths ; and when his master bad him, take them you, for they are the hangman's fees. 70. There was a lady of the west country, that gave great entertainment at her house to most of the gallant gentlemen thereabouts, and amongst others, Sir Walter Rawleigh was one. This lady, though otherwise a stately dame, was a notable good housewife ; .and in the morning betimes, she called to one of her maids that looked to the swine, and asked, are the pigs served ? Sir Walter Raw- Ieigh's chamber was fast by the lady's, so as he heard her ; a little before dinner, the lady came down in great state into the great chamber, which was full of gentlemen ; and as soon as Sir Walter Rawleigh set eye upon her; Madam, saith he, are the pigs served ? The lady answered ; You know best whether you have had your breakfast. 7 1 . There were fishermen drawing the river at Chelsea : Mr. Bacon came thither by chance in the afternoon, and offered to buy their draught : they were willing. He asked them what they would take 5 They asked, thirty shillings. Mr. Bacon offered them ten. They refused it. Why then, saith Mr. Bacon, I will be only a looker on. They drew and caiched nothing. Saith Mr. Ba- con, Are not you mad fellows now, that might have had an angel in your purse, to have made merry withal, and to have warmed you throughly, 24 and now you must go home with nothing. Ay but, saith the fishermen, we had hope then to make a better gain of it. Saith Mr. Bacon, well my master, then I'll tell you, hope is a good breakfast, but it is a bad supper. 72. When Sir Francis Bacon was made the king's attorney, Sir Edward Coke was put up from being lord chief justice of the common pleas, to be lord chief justice of the king's bench ; which is a place of greater honour, but of less profit ; and withal was made privy counsellor. After a few days, the Lord Coke meeting with the king's at- torney, said unto him ; Mr. Attorney, this is all your doing : It is you that have made this stir. Mr. Attorney answered : Ah, my lord ! your lord- ship all this while hath grown in breadth; you must needs now grow in height, or else you would be a monster. 73. One day Queen Elizabeth told Mr. Bacon, that my Lord of Essex, after great protestation of penitence and affection, fell in the end, but upon the suit of renewing his farm of sweet wines. He answered ; 1 read that in nature, there be two kinds of motions or appetites in sympathy ; the one as of iron, to the adamant for perfection ; the other as of the vine, to the stake for sustentation ; that her majesty, was the one, and his suit the other. 25 74. Mr Bacon, after he had been vehement in parliament against depopulation and enclosures ; and that soon after the queen told him, that she had referred the hearing of Mr. Mills's cause, to certain counsellors and judges ; and asked him how he liked of it r Answered ; Oh madam ! my mind is known ; I am against all inclosures, and especially against inclosed justice. 75. When Sir Nicolas Bacon the lord keeper lived, every room in Gorhambury was served with a pipe of water from the ponds, distant about a mile off. In the life-time of Mr. Antony Bacon, the water ceased. After whose death, his lordship coming to the inheritance, could not recover the water without infinite charge : when he w r as lord chancellor, he built Verulam House, close by the pond-yard, for a place of privacy, when he was called upon, to dispatch any urgent business. And being asked, w hy he built that house there ; his lordship answered, that since he could not carry the water to his house, he would carry his house to the water. 76. Zelim was the first of the Ottomans that did shave his beard, whereas his predecessors w T ore it long. One of his bashaws asked him, why he altered the custom of his predecessors ? He an- swered, because you bashaws may not lead me by the beard, as you did them. 26 77. Charles king of Sweden, a great enemy of the Jesuits, when he took any of their colleges, he would hang the old Jesuits, and put the young to his mines, saying; that since they wrought so hard above ground, he would try how they could work under ground. 78. In chancery, at one time when the counsel of the parties set forth the boundaries of the land in question, by the plot; and the counsel of one part said, we lie on this side, my lord ; and the counsel of the other part said, and we lie on this side : the Jord chancellor Hatton stood up and said ; if you lye on both sides, whom will you have me to be- lieve ? 79. Sir Edward Coke was wont to say, when a great man came to dinner to him, and gave him no knowledge of his coming ; sir, since you sent ne no word of your coming, you must dine with me ; but if I had known of it in due time, I would have dined with you. 80. Pope Julius the third, when he was made pope, gave his hat unto a youth, a favourite of his, with great scandal. Whereupon at one time a car- dinal that might be free with him, said modestly to him ; what did your holiness see in that young man, to make him cardinal? Julius answered, what did you see in me to make me pope ? 27 81. The same Julius, upon like occasion of speech, why he should bear so great affection to the same young man, would say ; that he found by astrology, that it was the "youth's destiny to be a great prelate ; which was impossible except himself were pope. And therefore that he did raise him' as the driver on of his own fortune. 82. Sir Thomas More had only daughters at the first, and his wife did ever pray for a boy. At last she had a boy, which being come to man's estate, proved but simple. Sir Thomas said to his wife, thou prayedst so long for a boy, that he will be a boy as long as he lives. S3. Sir Fulk Grevil, afterwards lord Brook, in parliament, when the house of commons in a great business, stood much upon precedents, said unto them ; why do you stand so much upon precedents ? The times hereafter will be good or bad. If good, precedents will do no harm ; if bad, power will make a way where it finds none. 84. Sir Thomas More, on the day that he was beheaded, had a barber sent to him, because his hair was long ; which was thought, would make him more commiserated with the people. The barber came to him and asked him, whether he would be pleased to be trimm'd ? In good faith, honest fellow, (saith Sir Thomas) the king and T have a suit for my head ; and till the title be cleared, I will do not cost upon it. 28 85. Doctor Johnson said, that in sickness there were three things that were material ; the physi- cian, the disease, and the patient: and if any two of these joined, then they get the victory ; for, Ne Hercules quidem contra duos. If the physician and the patient join, then down goes the disease ; for then the patient recovers 5 if the physician and the disease join ; that is a strong dis- ease; and the physician mistaking the cure, then down goes the patient ; if the patient and the dis- ease join, then down goes the physician, for he is discredited. 86. Mr. Bettenham said; that virtuous men were like some herbs, and spices that give not out their sweet smell, till they be broken or crushed. 87. There was a painter became a physician, whereupon, one said to him ; you have done well ; for before the faults of your work were seen, but now they are unseen. 88. There was a gentleman that came to the tilt all in orange- tawny, and ran very ill. The next day he came again all in green, and ran worse. There was one of the lookers on asked another; what is the reason that this gentleman changeth his colours ? The other answered, sure* because it may be reported, that the gentleman in the green ran worse than the gentleman in the- orange-tawny. 29 89. Stephen Gardener bishop of Winchester, a great champion of the popish religion, was wont to say of the protestants who ground upon the scripture; that they were like posts, that bring truth in their letters, and lyes in their mouths. 90. The former Sir Thomas More had sent him by a suitor in chancery, two silver flagons. When they were presented by the gentleman's servant, he said to one of his men, have him to the^ cellar, and let him have of my best wine : and turning to the servant, said ; tell thy master, if he like it, let him not spare it. 9 1 . Michael Angelo the famous painter, paint- ing in the pope's chapel the portraiture of hell and damned souls, made one of the damned souls so like a cardinal that was his enemy, as every body at first sight knew it. Whereupon the cardinal complained to pope Clement, humbly praying it might be defaced. The pope said to him ; why, you know very well, I have power to deliver a soul out of purgatory, but not out of hell. 92. They were wont to call referring to the masters in chancery, committing. My lord keeper Egerton, when he was master of the rolls, was wont to ask what the cause had done that it should be committed. 93. Sir Nicholas Bacon, when a certain nim- ble-witted counsellor at the bar, who was forward 30 to speak, did interrupt him often, said unto him ; there's a great difference betwixt you and me : a pain to me to speak, and a pain to you to hold your peace. 94. The same sir Nicolas Bacon, upon bills ex- hibited to discover where lands lay, upon proof, that they had a certain quantity of land, but could not set it forth , was wont to say ; and if you can- not find your land in the country, how will you have me find it in the chancery ? 95. Mr. Howland, in conference with a young student, arguing a case, happened to say, I would ask you but this question. The student presently interrupted him, to give him an answer. Where- unto Mr. Howland gravely said ; nay, though I ask you a question, yet I did not mean you should answer me, I mean to answer myself. 96. Pope Adrian the sixth was talking with the duke of Sesa, that Pasquil gave great scandal, and that he would have him thrown into the river : but Sesa answered ; do it not, holy father, for then he will turn frog ; and whereas now he chants but by day, he will then chant both by day and by night. 97. There was a king of Hungary took a bishop in battle, and kept him prisoner : whereupon the Pope writ a monitory to him, for that he had broken the privilege of holy church, and taken his son. The king sent an embassage to him, and sent 31 witha! the armour wherein the bishop was taken and this only in writing ; Vide num baec sit vestis filii tui : Know now whether this be thy son's coat. 98. Sir Amyas Pawlet, when he saw too much haste made in any matter, was wont to say ; stay a while, that we may make an end the sooner. 99. A master of the request to queen Elizabeth had divers times moved for an audience, and been put off. At last he came to the queen in a pro- gress, and had on a new pair of boots. The queen, who loved not the smell of new leather, said to him; fye sloven, thy new boots stink. Ma- dam, said he, it is not my new boots that stink; but it is the stale bills that I have kept so long. ] 00. Queen Isabella of Spain used to say, who- soever hath a good presence, and a good fashion, carries continual letters of recommendation. 101. Alonso of Arragon was wont to say in commendation of age, that age appeared to be best in four things; old wood best to burn ; old wine to drink ; old friends to trust ; and old authors to read. 102. It was said of Augustus, and afterward the like was said of Septimius Severus : both which did infinite mischief in their beginnings, and infi- nite good towards their ends ; that they should either have never been born or never died. 34 103. Constantine the Great, in a kind of envy, himself being a great builder, as Trajan likewise was, would call Trajan parietaria, wall-flower, be- cause his name was upon so many walls. 104. Ethel wold, bishop of Winchester, in a famine, sold all the rich vessels and ornaments of the church, to relieve the poor with bread ; and said, there was no reason that the dead temples of God should be sumptuously furnished, and the liv- ing temples suffer penury. 105. Many men, especially such as affect gra- vity, have a manner after other mens speech to shake their heads. A great officer of this land would say, it was as men shake a bottle, to see if there were any wit in their heads or no ? 106. After a great fight, there came to the camp of Consalvo the great captain, a gentleman proudly horsed and armed : Diego de Mendoza, asked the great captain, who's this ? Who answered ; it is saint Ermin, who never appears but after a storm. 107. There was one that died greatly in debt; when it was reported in some company, where divers of his creditors casually were, that he was dead : one began to say ; well, if he be gone, then he hath carried five hundred ducates of mine w r ith him into the other world : and another said, and two hundred of mine : and a third spake of 33 great sums of his. Whereupon one that was amongst them said ; I perceive now, that though a man cannot carry any of his own with him into the next world, yet he may carry away that which is another man's. 108. Francis Carvajal, that was the great cap- tain of the rebels of Peru, had often given the chace to Diego Centeno, a principal commander of the emperor's party : he was afterwards taken by the emperor's lieutenant Gasca, and committed to the custody of Diego Centeno, who used him with all possible courtesy ; insomuch as Carvajal asked him; I pray, sir, who are you that use me with this courtesy ; Centeno said ; do not you know Diego Centeno ? Carvajal answered ; truly, sir, I have been so used to see your back, as I knew not your face. 109. Bresquet, jester to Francis the first of France, did keep a calendar of fools, wherewith he did use to make the king sport ; telling him ever the reason, why he put any one into his calendar. When Charles the fifth emperor, upon confidence of the noble nature of Francis passed through France, for the appeasing of the rebellion of Gaunt, Bresquet put him into his calendar. The king asked him the cause. He answered ; because you having suffered at the hands of Charles the greatest bitterness that ever prince did from another, never- D 34 theless he would trust his person nto your hands r Why, Bresquet, said the king, what wilt thou say, if thou seest him pass back in as great safety, as if he marched through the midst of Spain? saith Bresquet ; why then I will put him out, and put in you. 110. When my lord president of the council came first to be lord treasurer, he complained to my lord chancellor of the troublesomness of the place, for that the exchequer was so empty. The lord chancellor answered ; my lord, be of good cheer, for now you shall see the bottom of your bu- siness at the first. 111. When his lordship was newly advanced to the great seal, Gondomar came to visit him. My lord said ; that he was to thank God and the king for that honour ; but yet, so he might be rid of the burden, he could very willingly forbear the honour : and that he formerly had a desire, and the same continued with him still, to lead a private life. Gondomar answered, that he would tell him a tale, of an old rat that would needs leave the world: and acquainted the young rats, that he would retire into his hole, and spend his days soli- tarily ; and would enjoy no more comfort ; and commanded them upon his high displeasure, not to offer to come in unto him. They forbore two or three days ; at last, one that was more hardy So than the rest, incited some of his fellows to go in with him, and he would venture to see how his father did : for he might be dead. They went in, and found the old rat sitting in the midst of a rich Parmezan cheese. So he applied the fable after his witty manner, 1 12 Rabelais tells a tale of one that was very fortunate in compounding differences. His son undertook the said course, but could never com- pound any. Whereupon he came to his father, and asked him ; what art he had to reconcile dif- ferences ? He answered ; he had no other but this ; to watch when the two parties were much weaned, and their hearts were too great to seek reconcile- ment at one another's hand ; then to be a means betwixt them, and upon no other terms. After which the son went home, and prospered in the same undertakings. 113. Alonso Cartilio w r as informed by his ste- ward of the greatness of his expence, being such as he could not hold out therewith. The bishop asked him, wherein it chiefly arose r His steward told him, in the multitude of his servants. The bishop bad him to make him a note of those that were necessary, and those that might be spared. Which he did. And the bishop taking occasion to read it before most of his servants, said to his ste- 36 ward ; well, let these remain, because I have need of them.,; and these other also because tjiey have need of me. f 114. Mr. Bettenham, reader of Grays'-Inn, used to say, that riches were like muck ; when it lay upon a heap, it gave but a stench and ill odour ; but when it was spread upon the ground, then it was cause of much fruit. 115. Cicero married his daughter to Dolabella, that held C assart party : Pompey had married Ju- lia, that was Caesar's daughter. After, when Coesar and Pompey took arms one against the other; and Pompey had passed the seas, and Caesar possessed Italy ; Cicero stayed somewhat long in Italy ; but at last sailed over to join with Pompey : who when he came to him, Pompey said, you are welcome, but where left you your son- in-law ? Cicero answered, with your father-in-law, 116. Galby succeeded Nero, and his age being despised, there was much licence and confusion in Rome during his empire ; whereupon a senator said in full senate ; it were better to live where nothing is lawful, than where all things are lawful. 117. Chilon said, that kings friends, and fa- vourites, were like casting counters * r that some- times stood for one, sometimes for ten, sometimes for an hundred. 37 118. Diogenes begging, as divers philosophers then used, did beg more of a prodigal man, than of the rest which were present. Whereupon one said to him ; see your baseness, that when you find a liberal mind, you will take most of him. No, said Diogenes, but I mean to beg of the rest again. 119. Themistocles, when an embassador from a mean estate did speak great matters ; said to him, friend, thy words would require a city. 1 20. They would say of the Duke of Guise, Henry ; that he was the greatest usurer in France, for that he had turned all his estate into obligations. Meaning, that he had sold and oppignerated all his patrimony, to give large donatives to other men. 121. Caesar Borgia, after long division between him and the lords of Romagna, fell to accord with them. In this accord there was an article, that he should not call them at any time all together in per- son. The meaning was, that knowing his danger- ous nature, if he meant them treason, he might have opportunity to oppress them all together at once. Nevertheless, he used such fine art, and fair carriage, that he won their confidence to meet all together in counsel at Cinigaglia ; where he murdered them all. This act, when it was related unto Pope Alexander, his father, by a cardinal, as a thing happy, but very perfidious : the pope 38 said, it was they that broke their covenant first, in coming all together. J 22. The Lacedamonians were besieged by the Athenians in the port of Pyle, which was won, and some slain, and some taken. There was one said to one of them that was taken, by way of scorn ; were they not brave men that lost their lives at the port of Pyle ? He answered ; certainly a Persian arrow is much to be set by, if it can chase out a brave man. 123. Clodius was acquitted by a corrupt jury, that had palpably taken shares of money, before they gave up their verdict ; they prayed of the se- nate a guard, that they might do their consciences, for that Clodius was a very seditious young noble- man. Whereupon all the world gave him for condemned. But acquitted he was. Catulus, the next day seeing some of them that had acquitted him together, said to them ; what made you ask of us a guard ? Where you afraid your money should have been taken from you ? 124. At the same judgment, Cicero gave in evidence upon oath : and when the jury, which consisted of fifty seven, had passed against his evidence, one day in the senate Cicero and Clo- dius being in altercation, Clodius upbraided him, and said , the jury gave you no credit. Cicero answered, five and twenty gave me credit ; but 39 there were two and thirty that gave you no credit, for they had their money beforehand. 125. Diogenes having seen that the kingdom of Macedon, which before was contemptible and low, began to come aloft when he died, was asked how he would be buried ? He answered ; with my face downward : for within a while the world will be turned upside down, and then I shall lie right. 126. Cato the elder was wont to say; that the Romans were like sheep ; a man were better to drive a flock of them, than one of them. 127. When Lycurgus was to reform and alter the state of Sparta ; in consultation one advised, that it should be reduced to an absolute popular equality : but Lycurgus said to him ; sir, begin it in your own house. 128. Bion, that was an atheist, was shewed in a port city, in a temple of Neptune, many tables of pictures, of such as had in tempests made their vows to Neptune, and were saved from ship- wreck: and was asked, how say you now? Do you not acknowledge the power of the Gods ? But saith he ; Ay, but where are they painted that have been drowned after their vows ? 129. Cicero was at dinner, where there was an ancient lady that spake of her own years, and said ; she was but forty years old. One that sate 40 by Cicero, sounded him in the ear, and said ; she talks of forty years old ; but she is far more out of question. Cicero answered him again ; I must be- lieve her, for I have heard her say so any time these ten years. 130. There was a soldier that vaunted before Julius Caesar, of the hurts he had received in his face. Julius Caesar knowing him to be but a coward, told him ; you were best take heed next time you run away, how you look back. 131. There was a suitor to Vespasian, who to lay his suit fairer, said it was for his brother ; whereas indeed it was for a piece of money. Some about Vespasian told the emperor, to cross him ; that the party his servant spoke for, was not his brother ; but that he did it upon a bargain. Vespasian sent for the party interested, and asked him ; whether his mean employed by him was his brother or no ? He durst not tell untruth to the em- peror, and confessed he was not his brother. Whereupon the emperor said, this do, fetch me the money, and you shall have your suit dispatch- ed. Which he did. The courtier which was the mean, solicited Vespasian soon after about his suit : why (saith Vespasian) I gave it last day to a brother of mine. 132. Vespasian asked of Apollonius ; what was the cause of Nero's ruin? Who answered, 41 Nero could tune the harp well, but in govern- ment he did always wind up the strings too high, or let them down too low. 133. Diogenes, one terrible frosty morning, came into the market-place, and stood naked, shaking, to shew his tolerance. Many of the people came about him pitying him : Plato passing by, and knowing he did it to be seen, said to the people as he went by ; if you pity him indeed, let him alone to himself. 134. Mr. Marbury the preacher would say, that God was fain to do with wicked men, as men do with frisking jades in a pasture, that cannot take them up, till they get them at a gate. So wicked men will not be taken up till the hour of death. 135. Pope Sixtus the fifth, who was a very poor man's son, and his father's house ill-thatched, so that the sun came in, in many places, would sport with his ignobility, and say ; that he was, nato di casa illustre, son of an illustrious house. 136. Caesar, when he first possessed Rome, Pompey being fled, offered to enter the sacred treasury to take the monies that were there stored : and Mettellus, tribune of the people, did forbid him : and when Metellus was violent in it, and would not desist, Caesar turned to him, and said; presume no farther, or I will lay you dead. And when Metellus was with those words somewhat 42 astonished, Caesar added ; young man, it had been easier for me to do this, than to speak it. 137. Caius Marius was general of the Romans against the Cimbers, who came with such a sea of people upon Italy. In the fight there was a band of the Cadurcians of a thousand, that did notable service; whereupon, after the fight, Marius did denison them all for citizens of Rome, though there was no law to warrant it. One of his friends did present it unto him ; that he had transgressed the law, because that privilege was not to be granted, but by the people. Whereunto Marius answered ; that for the noise of arms he could not hear the laws. 138. Pompey did consummate the war against Sertorius, when Metellus had brought the enemy somewhat low. He did also consummate the war against the fugitives, whom Crassus had before de- feated in a great battle. So when Lucullus had had great and glorious victories against Mithridates and Tigranes ; yet Pompey, by means his friends made, was sent to put an end to that war. Where- upon Lucullus taking indignation, as a disgrace of- fered to himself, said ; that Pompey was a carrion crow, when others had strucken down the bodies, then Pompey came and preyed upon them. ] 39. Antisthenes being asked of one what learn- ing was most necessary for man's life ? Answered, to unlearn that which is nought. 43 140. Diogenes, when mice came about him, as he was eating, said ; I see, that even Diogenes nourisheth parasites. 141. Hiero visited by Pythagoras, ask'd him; of what condition he was? Pythagoras answered; sir, I know you have been at the Olympian games : yes, saith Hiero. Thither (saith Pythagoras) come some to win the prizes. Some come to sell their merchandize, because it is a kind of mart of all Greece. Some come to meet their friends, and to make merry : because of the great confluence of all sorts. Others come only to look on. I am one of them that come to look on ; meaning it, of philosophy, and the contemplative life. 142. Heraclitus the obscure said; the dry light is the best soul : meaning, when the faculties in- tellectual are in vigour, not drenched, or as it were blooded by the affections. 143. One of the philosophers was asked; what a wise man differed from a fool ? He answered, send them both naked to those that know them not, and you shall perceive. 144. There was a law made by the Romans, against the bribery and extortion of the governors of provinces. Cicero saith in a speech of his to the people ; that he thought the provinces would petition to the state of Rome to have that law re- pealed. For (saith he) before the governors did 44 bribe and extort, as much as was sufficient for themselves: but now they bribe and extort as much, as may be enough, not only for themselves, but for the judges, and jurors, and magistrates. 145. Aristippus sailing in a tempest, shewed signs of fear. One of the seamen said to him, in an insulting manner; we that are plebeians are not troubled ; you that are a philosopher, are afraid. Aristippus answered; that there is not the like wager upon it, for you to perish and for me. ] 46. There was an orator that defended a cause of Aristippus, and prevailed. Afterwards he asked Aristippus ; now, in your distress, what, did Socrates do you good ? Aristippus answered ; thus, in making that which you said of me to be true. 147. It fell out so, that as Livia went abroad in Rome, there met her naked young men that were sporting in the streets, which Augustus w r ent about severely to punish in them : but Livia spake for them, and said; it was no more to chaste women, than so many statues. 148. Philip of Macedon was wished to banish one for speaking ill of him. But Philip answered ; better he speak where we are both known, than where we are both unknown. 149. Lucullus entertained Pompey in one of his magnificent houses; Pompey said, this is a mar- 45 vellous fair and stately house for the summer; but methinks it should be very cold for winter. Lu- cullus answered ; do you not think me as wise as divers fowls are, to change my habitation in the winter season ? 150. Plato entertained some of his friends at a dinner, and had in the chamber a bed, or couch, neatly and costly furnished. Diogenes came in, and got up upon the bed, and trampled it, saying; I trample upon the pride of Plato. Plato mildly answered, but with greater pride, Diogenes. 151. Pompey being commissioner for sending grain to Rome in time of dearth, when he came to the sea, found it very tempestuous and dangerous ; insomuch as those about him advised him by no means to embark ; but Pompey said, it is of ne- cessity that I go, not that I live. 152. Demosthenes was upbraided by iEschines that his speeches did smell of the lamp. But De- mosthenes said; indeed there is a great deal of difference between that which you and I do by lamp-light. 153. Demades the orator, in his age was talka- tive, and would eat hard: Antipater would say of him, that he was like a sacrifice, that nothing was left of it but. the tongue and the paunch. 154. Philo Judasus saith, that the sense is like the sun; for the sun seals up the globe of heaven, and 46 opens the globe of earth : so the sense doth obscure heavenly things, and reveals earthly things. 155. Alexander, after the battle of Granicum, had very great offers made him by Darius : con- sulting with his captains concerning them, Parme- nio said ; sure I would accept of these offers, if I were as Alexander. Alexander answered ; so would I, if I were as Parmenio. 156. Alexander was wont to say, he knew himself to be mortal, chiefly by two things; sleep, and lust. 157. Augustus Caesar w 7 ould say, that he won- der'd that Alexander feared he should want work, having no more worlds to conquer : as if it were not as hard a matter to keep as to conquer. 158. Antigonus, when it was told him that the enemy had such volleys of arrows that they did hide the sun, said; that falls out well, for it is hot weather, and so we shall fight in the shade. 159. Cato the elder being aged, buried his wife, and married a young woman. His son came to him, and said ; sir, what have I offended, that you have brought a step-mother into your house ? The old man answered ; nay, quite contrary, son; thou pleasest me so well, as I should be glad to have more such. 160. Crassus the orator had a fish which the Romans call Muraena, that he made very tame 47 and fond of him ; the fish died, and Crassus wept for it. One day falling in conte-ntion with Domi- tius in the senate, Domitius said, foolish Crassus, you wept for your Muraena, Crassus replied, that's more than you did for both your wives. 161. Philip, Alexander's father, gave sentence against a prisoner what time he was drowsy, and seemed to give small attention. The prisoner after sentence was pronounced, said, I appeal. The king somewhat stirred, said ; to whom do you ap- peal ? The prisoner answered ; from Philip when he gave no ear, to Philip when he shall give ear. 1 62. There was a philosopher that disputed with Adrian the emperor, and did it but weakly. One of his friends that stood by, afterwards said unto him : methinks you were not like yourself last day, in argument with the emperor; I could have an- swered better myself. Why, said the philosopher, would you have me contend with him that com- mands thirty legions. 163. When Alexander passed into Asia, he gave large donatives to his captains and other princi- pal men of virtue ; insomuch as Parmenio asked him ; sir, what do you keep for yourself ? He an- swered, hope. 1 64. There was one that found a great mass of money digged under ground in his grandfather's house; and being somewhat doubtful of the case^ 48 signified it to the emperor, that he had found such treasure. Theemperot made a rescript thus ; use it. He writ back again ; that the sum was greater than his state or condition could use. The em- peror writ a new rescript, thus : abuse it. 165. Julius Caesar, as he passed by, was by acclamation of some that stood in the way, termed king, to try how the people would take it. The people shewed great murmur and distaste at it. Caesar finding where the wind stood, slighted it, and said ; I am not king, but Caesar ; as if they had mistaken his name. For rex was a surname amongst the Romans, as king is with us. 166. When Croesus, for his glory, shewed Solon his great treasures of gold, Solon said to him; if another king come that hath better iron than you, he will be master of all this gold. 167. Aristippus being reprehended of luxury, by one that was not rich, for that he gave six crowns for a small fish, answered ; why, what would you have given ? the other said, some twelve pence. Aristippus said again ; and six crowns is no more with me. 168. Plato reprehended severely a young man for entering into a dissolute house. The young man said to him ; why do you reprehend so sharply for so small a matter? Plato replied, but custom is no small matter. BISTOf :TY, 49 169. Archidamus, king of Lacedaemon, having received from Philip king of Macedon (after Philip had won the victory of Chaeronea, upon the Athenians) proud letters, writ back to him; that if he measured his own shadow, he would find it no longer than it was before his victory. 170. Pyrrhus, when his friends congratulated to him his victory over the Romans, under the con- \duct of Fabricius, but with great slaughter of his ^> own side, said to them again ; yes, but if we have *D such another victory, we are undone. ^ 171. Plato was wont to say of his master So- crates, that he was like the apothecaries gally-pots; that had on the out-sides apes, owls, and satyrs ; but within, precious drugs. 172. Alexander sent to Phocion a great present of money. Phocion said to the messenger ; why doth the king send to me, and to none else ? The messenger answered ; because he takes you to be the only good man in Athens. Phocion replied ; if he think so, pray let him suffer me to be so still. 173. At a banquet, where those that were called the seven wise men of Greece, were invited by the ambassador of a barbarous king; the ambassa- dor related, that there was a neighbour mightier than his master, pick'd quarrels with him, by mak- ing impossible demands ; otherwise threatening war; and now at that present had demanded of E 50 him, to drink up the sea. Whereunto one of the wise men said, I would have him undertake it. Why, saith the ambassador, how shall he come off? Thus, (saith the wise man,) let that king first stop the rivers which run into the sea, which are no part of the bargain, and then your master will perform it. 174. At the same banquet, the ambassador de- sired the seven, and some other wise men that were at the banquet, to deliver every one of them some sentence or parable, that he might report to his king the wisdom of Grecia, which they did ; only one was silent ; which the ambassador per- ceiving, said to him ; sir, let it not displease you ; why do not you say somewhat, that I may report ? He answered, report to your lord, that there are of the Grecians that can hold their peace. f75. TheLacedamonians hadin custom to speak very short, which being an empire, they might do at pleasure : but after their defeat at Leuctra, in an assembly of the Grecians, they made a long in- vective against Epaminondas : who stood up, and said no more than this 5 1 am glad we have brought you to speak long. J 76. Fabius Maximus being resolved to draw the war in length, still waited upon Hannibal's progress to curb him ; and for that purpose he en- camped upon the high ground : but Terentius his 51 colleague foughtwithHannibal,and was in greatperil of being overthrown ; but then Fabius came down from the high grounds, and got the day. Where- upon Hannibal said ; that he did ever think that the same cloud that hanged upon the hills, would at one time or other give a tempest. 177. Hanno the Carthaginian was sent commis- sioner by the state, after the second Carthaginian war, to supplicate for peace, and in the end ob- tained it : yet one of the sharper senators said, you have often broken with us the peace, whereunto you have sworn; I pray, by what god will you swear ? Hanno answered ; by the same gods that punished the former perjury so severely. 178. One of the seven was wont to say; that laws were like cobwebs ; where the small flies were caught, and the great brake through. 179. Lewis the eleventh of France, having much abated the greatness and power of the peers, no- bility, and court of parliament, would say, that he had brought the crown out of ward. 180. There was a cowardly Spanish soldier, that in a defeat that the Moors gave, ran away with the foremost Afterwards when the army gene- rally fled, this soldier was missing. Whereupon it was said by some, that he was slain. No sure, (saith one) he is alive; for the Moors eat no hare's flesh. 52 181. Anacharsis would say, concerning the po- pular estates of Greeia, that he wondered how at Athens wise men did propose, and fools dispose. 182. When queen Elizabeth had advanced Ra- leigh, she was one day playing on the virginals, and my lord of Oxford, and another nobleman stood by. It fell out so, that the ledge, before the jacks, was taken aw r ay, so as the jacks were seen : my lord of Oxford, and the other nobleman smiled, and a little whispered. The queen marked it, and would needs know, what the matter was ? My lord of Oxford answered ; That they smiled to see, that when jacks w r ent up, heads went down. 183. Sir Thomas More, (who was a man, in all his life-time, that had an excellent vein in jesting) at the very instant of his death, having a pretty long beard, after his head w r as upon the block, lift it up again, and gently drew his beard aside, and said ; This hath not offended the king. 184^ Demonax the philosopher, when he died, was asked touching his burial. He answered, Never take care for burying me, for stink will bury me. He that asked him, said again ; Why would you have your body left to dogs and ravens to feed upon? Demonax answered; Why, what great hurt is it, if having sought to do good, when I lived, to men ; my body do some good to beasts, when I am dead ? 53 185. There was a conspiracy against the em- peror Claudius by Scribonianus, examined in the senate ; where Claudius sate in his chair, and one of his freed servants stood at the back of his chair. In the examination, that freed servant, who had much power with Claudius, very saucily, had al- most all the words : and amongst other things, he asked in scorn one of the examinates, who was likewise a freed servant of Scribonianus ; I pray sir, if Scribonianus had been emperor, what would you have done ? He answered, I would have stood behind his chair and held my peace. 186. One was saying, that his great grand-fa- ther, and grand-father, and father, died at sea: said another that heard him ; and I were as you, I would never come at sea. Why, (saith he) where did your great grand-father, and grand-father, and father die ? He answered ; where, but in their beds ? He answered ; and I were as you, I would never come in bed. 187. There was a dispute, whether great heads or little heads had the better wit ? And one said, it must needs be the little ; for that it is a maxim, One majus continet in se minus. 188. Sir Thomas More, when the counsel of the party pressed him for a longer day to perform the decree, said ; take saint Barnaby Vday, which is the longest day in the year. Now saint Barna- byVday was within few days following. 54 1 89. There was an Epicurean vaunted, that clivers of other sects of philosophers did after turn Epicureans ; but there was never any Epicureans that turned to any other sect. Whereupon a phi- losopher that was of another sect, said ; the rea- son was plain, for that cocks may be made capons, but capons could never be made cocks. 190. Chilon would say, that gold was tryed with the touchstone, and men with gold. 191. Simonides being asked of Hiero what he thought of God ? asked a seven-night's time to consider of it: and at the seven -nights end, he asked a fort-night's time; at the fort-night's end, a month. At which Hiero marvelling, Simonides answered ; that the longer he thought upon the matter, the more difficult he found it, 192. Mr. Popham, (afterwards lord chief justice Popham) when he was speaker ; and the house of commons had sate long, and done in effect no- thing; coming one day to queen Elizabeth, she said to him ; now, Mr. Speaker, what hath passed in the commons house ? He answered, if it please your majesty, seven weeks, 193. Themistocles in his lower fortune was in love with a young gentleman who scorned him ; but when he grew to his greatness, which was soon after, he sought him : Themistocles said ; we are both grown wise, but too late. 55 194. Aristippus was earnest suitor to Dionysius for some grant, who would give no ear to his suit. Aristippus fell at his feet, and then Dionysius granted it. One that stood by said afterwards to Aristippus ; you a philosopher, and be so base as to throw yourself at the tyrant's feet to get a suit. Aristippus answered ; the fault is not mine, but the fault is in Dionysius, that carries his ears in his feet. 195. Solon when he wept for his son's death, and one said to him, weeping will not help; an- swered, alas therefore I weep, because weeping will not help. 196. The same Solon being asked; whether he had given the Athenians the best laws ? answer- ed, the best of those that they would have re- ceived. 197. One said to Aristippus ; 'tis a strange thing, why men should rather give to the poor, than to philosophers. He answered, because they think themselves may sooner come to be poor, than to be philosophers. 198. Trajan would say of the vain jealousy of princes, that seek to make away those that aspire to their succession ; that there was never king that did put to death his successor. 199. Alexander used to say of his two friends, Cratuerus and Hephaestion ; that Hephaestion loved Alexander, and Cratuerus loved the king. 56 200. One of the fathers saith, that there is but this difference between the death of old men and young men ; that old men go to death, and death comes to young men. 201. Jason the Thessalian was wont to say, that some things must be done unjustly, that many things may be done justly. 202. Demetrius king of Macedon, would at times retire himself from business, and give him- self wholly to pleasures. One of those his retir- ings, giving out that he was sick, his father Anti- gonus came on the sudden to visit him ; and met a fair dainty youth coming out of his chamber. When Antigonus came in, Demetrius said 5 Sir, the fever left me right now. Antigonus replied, I think it was he that I met at the door. 203. Cato major would say, that wise men learned more by fools, than fools by wise men. 204. When it was said to Anaxagoras ; the Athenians have condemned you to die ; he said again, And nature them. 205. Alexander, when his father wished him to run for the prize of the race of the Olympian games, (for he was very swift) answered ; he would, if he might run with kings. 206 Antigonus used often to go disguised, and to listen at the tents of his soldiers ; and at a time heard some that spoke very ill of him. Where* 57 upon he opened the tent a little, and said to them ; if you would speak ill of me, you should go a little farther off. 207. Aristippus said ; that those that studied particular sciences, and neglected philosophy ; were like Penelope's woers, that made love to the waiting woman. 208. The ambassadors of Asia minor came to Antonius, after he had imposed upon them a double tax, and said plainly to him, that if he would have two tributes in one year, he must give them two seed-times, and two harvests. 209. An orator of Athens said to Demosthenes ; the Athenians will kill you if they wax mad : De- mosthenes replied, and they will kill you if they be in good sense. 210. Epictetus used to say ; that one of the vul- gar, in any ill that happens to him, blames others; a novice in philosophy blames himself; and a phi- losopher blames neither the one nor the other. 211. Caesar, in his book that he made against Cato, (which is lost) did write to shew the force of opinion and reverence, of a man that had once ob- tained a popular reputation ; that there were some that found Cato drunk, and were ashamed in- stead of Cato. 212. There was a nobleman said of a great counsellor, that he would have made the worst far- 58 rier in the world; for he never shod a horse, but he cloyed him : for he never commended any man to the king for service, or upon occasion for suit, or otherwise, but that he would come in, in the end, with a but ; and drive in a nail to his disadvantage. 213. Diogenes called an ill physician, cock. Why ? (saith he,) Diogenes answered ; because when you crow, men use to rise. 214. There was a gentleman fell very sick, and a friend of his said to him ; surety, you are in danger ; I pray send for a physician. But the sick man answered ; it is no matter, for if I die, I will die at leisure. 215. Cato the elder, what time many of the Romans had statues erected in their honour, was asked by one in a kind of wonder, why he had none ? He answered, he had much rather men should ask and wonder why he had no statue, than why he had a statue. 216. A certain friend of Sir Thomas More's, taking great pains about a book, which he intend- ed to publish, (being well conceited of his own wit, which no man else thought worthy of com- mendation) ; brought it to Sir Thomas More to pe- ruse it, and pass his judgment upon it; which he did : and finding nothing therein worthy the press, he said to him with a grave countenance ; that if it were in verse it would be more worthy. Upon which words, he went immediately and turned it 59 into verse, and then brought it to Sir Thomas again ; who looking thereon, said soberly ; Yes marry, now it is somewhat ; for now it is rhime ; whereas before it was neither rhime nor reason. 217. Sir Henry Wotton used to say; that cri- tics were like brushers of noblemens clothes. 218. Hannibal said of Fabius Maximus, and of Marcellus, whereof the former waited upon him, that he could make no progress, and the latter had many sharp rights with him, that he feared Fabius like a tutor, and Marcellus like an enemy. 219. Phocion, the Athenian, (a man of great severity, and no ways flexible to the will of the people) one day, when he spake to the people, in one part of his speech, was applauded : whereupon, he turned to one of his friends, and asked ; What have I said amiss ? 220. Bion was wont to say ; That Socrates, of all the lovers of Alcibiades, only led him by the ears. 221. There was a philosopher about Tiberius, that looking into the nature of Caius, said of him ; That he was mire mingled with blood. 222. There was a bishop, that was somewhat a delicate person, and bathed twice a day. A friend of his said to him ; my lord, why do you bathe twice a day ? The bishop answered ; Because I cannot conveniently bathe thrice. 60 223. Diogenes was one day in the market-place, with a candle in his hand, and being ask'd ; What he sought ? he said, He sought a man. 224. Bias being asked; How a man should order his life ? answered ; As if a man should live long, or die quickly. 225. Queen Elizabeth was entertained by my lord Burleigh at Theobalds: and at her going away, my lord obtained of the queen, to make se- ven knights. They were gentlemen of the coun- try, of my lord's friends and neighbours. They were placed in a rank, as the queen should pass by the hall ; and to win antiquity of knighthood, in order, as my lord favoured; though indeed the more principal gentlemen were placed lowest. The queen was told of it, and said nothing ; but when she went along, she passed them all by, as far as the skreen, as if she had forgot it: and when she came to the skreen, she seemed to take herself with the manner, and said, I had almost forgot what I promised. With that she turned back, and knighted the lowest first, and so upward. Whereupon Mr. Stanhope of the privy-chamber, a while after told her ; Your majesty was too fine for my lord Burleigh, She answered ; I have but fulfilled the scripture ; the first shall be last, and the last first. 61 226. Blon was sailing, and there fell out a great tempest ; and the mariners that were wicked and dissolute fellows, called upon the gods ; but Bion said to them, peace, let them not know you are here. 227. The Turks made an expedition into Per- sia ; and because of the strait jaws of the moun- tains of Armenia, the bashaw consulted which way they should get in. One that heard the de- bate said, here's much ado how you shall get in ; but I hear no body take care how you should get out. 228. Philip king of Macedon maintained argu- ments with a musician in points of his art, some- what peremptorily ; but the musician said to him, God forbid, sir, your fortune were so hard, that you should know these things better than myself. 229. Antalcidas, when an Athenian said to him, ye Spartans are unlearned; said again, true, for we have learned no evil nor vice of you. 230. Pace, the bitter fool, was not suffered to come at queen Elizabeth, because of his bitter humour. Yet at one time, some persuaded the queen that he should come to her ; undertaking for him, that he should keep within compass : so he was brought to her, and the queen said ; come on Pace; now we shall hear of our faults. Saith 62 Pace ; I do not use to talk of that that all the town talks of. 231. Bishop Latimer said in a sermon at court, that he heard great speech that the king was poor ; and many ways were propounded to make him rich : for his part he had thought of one way, which was, that they should help the king to some good office, for all his officers were rich, 232. After the defeat of Cyrus the younger, Falinus was sent by the king to the Grecians, (who had for their part rather victory than otherwise) to command them to yield their arms ; which when it was denied, Falinus said to Clearchus ; well then, the king lets you know, that if you remove from the place where you are now encamped, it is war : if you stay, it is truce. What shall I say you will do? Clearchus answered, it pleaseth us, as it pleaseth the king. How is that ? saith Falinus. Saith Clearchus, if we remove, war ; if we stay, truce : and so would not disclose his purpose. 233. Mendozo that was vice-roy of Peru, was wont to say, that the government of Peru was the best place that the king of Spain gave, save that it was somewhat too near Madrid. 234. When Vespasian passed from Jewry, to take upon him the empire, he went by Alexandria, where remained two famous philosophers, Apol- lonius and Euphrates. The emperor heard the 63 discourse, touching matter of state, in the presence of many. And when he was weary of them, he brake off, and in a secret derision, finding their discourses but speculative, and not to be put in practice, said; Oh that I might govern wise men, and wise men govern me. 235. Nero was wont to say of his master Seneca, that his style was like mortar without lime. 236.* Augustus Csesar, out of great indignation against his two daughters, and Posthumes Agrippa, his grand-child; whereof the two first were in- famous, and the last otherwise unworthy ; would say, that they were not his seed, but some impost- humes that had broken from him. 237. A seaman coming before the judges of the admiralty for admittance into an office of a ship bound for the Indies, was by one of the judges much slighted, as an insufficient person for that office he sought to obtain ; the judge telling him, that he believed he could not say the points of his compass. The seaman answered ; that he could say them, under favour, better than he could say his Paternoster. The judge replied ; that he would wager twenty shillings with him upon that. The seaman taking him up, it came to trial : and the seaman began, and said all the points of his compass very exactly; the judge likewise said his Paternoster: and when he had finished it, he re- 64 quired the wager according to agreement; because the seaman was to say his compass better than he his Paternoster, which he had not performed. Nay, 1 pray sir, hold, (quoth the seaman) the wager is not finished ; for I have but half done : and so he immediately said his compass backward very exactly ; which the judge failing of in his Paternoster, the seaman carried away the prize. 238. Lycurgus would say of divers of the heroes of the heathen ; That he wondered that men should mourn upon their days, for them, as mortal men, and yet sacrifice to them as gods. 239. Fabricius, in conference with Pyrrhus, was tempted to revolt to him; Pyrrhus telling him, that he should be partner of his fortunes, and second person to him. But Fabricius answered, in a scorn, to such a motion ; sir, that would not be good for yourself: for if the Epirotes once know me, they will rather desire to be governed by me than by you. 240. Thales said; That life and death were all one. One that was present ask'd him ; Why do not you die then ? Thales said again; Because they are all one. 241. An Egyptian priest having conference with Solon, said to him; You Grecians are ever children 5 you have no knowledge of antiquity, nor antiquity of knowledge. 65 242. Sir Fulke Grevil had much and private access to queen Elizabeth, which he used honour- ably, and did many men good : yet he would say merrily of himself ; That he was like Robin Good- fellow; for when the maids spilt the milk-pans, or kept any racket, they would lay it upon Robin: so what tales, the ladies, about the queen, told her, or other bad offices that they did, they would put it upon him. 243. There was a politic sermon, that had no divinity in it, was preached before the king. The king, as he came forth, said to Bishop Andrews ; Call you this a sermon ? the bishop answered ; And it please your majesty, by a charitable con- struction, it may be a sermon. 244. Henry Noel would say; That courtiers were like fasting days; they were next the holy days, but in themselves, they were the most mea- gre days of the week. 245. Cato said; The best way, to keep good acts in memory, was to refresh them with new. 246. Aristippus said ; He took money of his friends, not so much to use it himself, as to teach them how to bestow their money. 247. A strumpet said to Aristippus; that she was with child by him ; he answered ; You know that no more, than if you went through a hedge of thorns, you could say, this thorn prick'd me, 66 24-8. Demoeritus said; That truth did lie ia profound pits, and when it was got, it needed much refining. 249. Diogenes said of a young man that danced daintily, and was much commended ; The better, the worse. 250. There was a nobleman that was lean of visage, but immediately after his marriage he grew pretty plump and fat. One said to him ; Your lordship doth contrary to other married men ; for they at the first wax lean, and you wax fat. Sir Walter Raleigh stood by, and said ; Why, there is no beast, that if you take him from the common, and put him into the several, but he will wax fat. 251. Diogenes seeing one that was a bastard, casting stones among the people, bad him take heed, he hit not his father. 252. Plutarch said well, it is otherwise in a common- wealth of men than of bees : The hive of a city or kingdom is in best condition, when there is least of noise or buz in it. 253. The same Plutarch said, of men of weak abilities set in great place, that they were like little statues set on great bases, made to appear the less by their advancement. 254. He said again; good fame is like fire. When you have kindled it, you may easily preserve it ; but if once you extinguish it, you will not 61 easily kindle it again ; at least, not make it burn as bright as it did. 255. Queen Elizabeth seeing Sir Edward < in her garden, lookM out at her window, and asked him in Italian, what does a man think of when he thinks of nothing? Sir Edward (who had not had the effect of some of the queen's grants so soon as he had hoped and desired) paused a little ; and then made answer, Madam, he thinks of a woman's promise. The queen shrunk in her head, but was heard to say, Well, Sir Edward, I must not confute you. Anger makes dull men witty, but it keeps them poor. 256. When any great officer, ecclesiastical or civil, was to be made, the queen would inquire after the piety, integrity, learning of the man. And when she was satisfied in these qualifications, she would consider of his personage. And upon such an occasion she pleas'd once to say to me, Bacon, how can the magistrate maintain his authority when the man is despis'd ? 257. In eighty-eight, when the queen went from Temple-bar along Fleet-street, the lawyers were ranked on one side, and the companies of the city on the other ; said master Bacon to a lawyer that stood next him : Do but observe the courtiers ; if they bow first to the citizens, they are in debt ; if first to us, they are in law. 68 258. When Sir Thomas More was lord chancel- lor, he did use, at mass, to sit in the chancel ; and his lady in a pew. And because the pew stood out of sight, his gentleman usher, ever after ser- vice came to the lady's pew, and said ; madam, my lord is gone. So when the chancellor's place was taken from him, the next time they went to church, Sir Thomas himself came to the lady's pew, and said ; Madam, my lord is gone. 259. A Grecian captain advising the confede- rates, that were united against the Lacedamonians, touching their enterprise, gave opinion, that they should go directly upon Sparta, saying; That the state of Sparta was like rivers ; strong when they had run a great way, and weak toward their head. 260. One was examined, upon certain scandal- ous words spoken against the king. He confessed them, and said; it is true, I spake them, and if the wine had not failed, I had said much more. 261. Trajan would say, That the king's exche- quer was like the spleen ; for when that did swell the whole body did pine. 262. Charles the bald, allowed one, whose name was Scottus, to sit at the table with him for his pleasure. Scottus sate on the other side of the table. One time the king being merry with him, said to him ; What is there between Scot and Sot ? Scot- tus answered ; The table only. 69 263. There was a marriage made between a widow of great wealth, and a gentleman of great house, that had no estate or means. Jack Roberts said ; That marriage was like a black pudding j the one brought blood, and the other brought sewet and oatmeal. 264. Groesus said to Cambyses, That peace was better than war ; because in peace the sons did bury their fathers, but in wars the fathers did bury their sons. 265. Carjaval, when he was drawn to execution, being fourscore and five years old, and laid upon the hurdle, said ; What ! young in cradle, old in cradle ! 266. Diogenes was asked in a kind of scorn ; What was the matter, that philosophers haunted rich men, and not rich men philosophers ? he an- swered ; Because the one knew what they wanted, the other did not. 267. Demetrius, king of Macedon, had a peti- tion offered him divers times by an old woman, and answered; he had no leisure. Whereupon, the woman said aloud ; Why then give over to be king. 268. There were two gentlemen, otherwise of equal degree, save that the one was of the anci- enter house. The other, in courtesy, asked his hand to kiss : which he gave him -> and he kiss'd 70 it : but said withal, to right himself, by way of friendship, Well, I aixiyeu, against any two of them : putting himself first. 269. Themistocles would say of himself; That he was like a plane-tree, that in tempests men fled to him, and in fair weather, men were ever crop- ping his leaves. 270. Themistocles said of speech ; That it was like Arras, that spread abroad shews fair images, but contracted is but like packs. 271. When king Edward the second was a- mongst his torturers, who hurried him to and fro, that no man should know where he was, they sat him down upon a bank : and one time the more to disguise his face, shaved him, and washed him with cold watf r of a ditch by : the king said ; Well, yet I will have warm water for my beard : and so shed abundance of tears. 272. King James was wont to be very earnest with the country gentlemen to go from London to their country houses. And sometimes he would say thus to them ; Gentlemen, at London, you are like ships at sea, which shew like nothing ; but in your country villages, you are like ships in a river, which look like great things. 273. Soon after the death of a great officer, who was judged no advancer of the king's matters; the king said to his solicitor Bacon, who was his kins- 71 man ; Now tell me truly, what say you of your cousin that is gone? Mr. Bacon answered, Sir, since your majesty doth charge me, Til e'en deal plainly with you, and give you such a character of him, as if I were to write his story. I do think he *\Vas no fit counsellor to make your affairs better : but yet he was fit to have kept them from growing worse. The king said, On my so'l, man, in the first thou speakest like a true man, and in the lat- ter like a kinsman. 274. King James, as he was a prince of great judgment, so he was a prince of a marvellous plea- sant humour ; and there now come into my mind two instances of it. As he was going through Lusen by Greenwich, he asked what town it was ? They said Lusen. He asked a good while after, what town is this we are now in ? They said, still 'twas Lusen. On my so'l, said the king, I will be king of Lusen. 275. In some other of his progresses, he asked how far it was to a town whose name I have for- gotten. They said, six miles. Half an hour after he asked again 3 One said six miles and an half. The king alighted out of his coach, and crept un- der the shoulder of his led horse. And when some asked his majesty what he meant ? I must stalk, said he, for yonder town is shy, and flies me. 72 276. Count Gondomar sent a compliment to my lord St. Alban, wishing him a good Easter. My lord thanked the messenger, and said, he could not at present requite the count better than in re- turning him the like ; that he wished his lordship a good Passover. 277. My lord chancellor Elsmere, when he had read a petition which he disliked, would say ; What, you would have my hand to this now ? And the party answering, yes : he would say farther, Well, so you shall; nay, you shall have both my hands to it. And so would, with both his hands, tear it in pieces. 278. Sir Francis Bacon was wont to say of an angry man who suppressed his passion, that he thought worse than he spoke : and of an angry man that would chide, that he spoke worse than he thought. 279. He was wont also to say, that power in an ill man, was like the power of a black witch; he could do hurt, but no good with it. And he would add, that the magicians could turn water into blood, but could not turn the blood again to water, 280. When Mr. Attorney Coke, in the exche- quer, gave high words to Sir Francis Bacon, and stood much upon the higher place ; Sir Francis said to him, Mr. Attorney, the less you speak of your 73 own greatness, the more I shall think of it ; and the more, the less. 281. Sir Francis Bacon coming into the Earl of Arundel's garden, where there were a great num- ber of ancient statues of naked men and women, made a stand, and as astonished, cried out, the re- surrection ! 282. Sir Francis Bacon (who was always for moderate counsels), when one was speaking of such a reformation of the church of England, as would in effect make it no church ; said thus to him, Sir, the subject we talk of is the eye of Eng- land, and if there be a speck or two in the eye, we endeavour to take them off; but he were a strange oculist who would pull out the eye. 283. The same Sir Francis Bacon was wont to say, that those who left useful studies for useless scholastic speculations, were like the Olympic gamesters, who abstain'd from necessary labours, that they might be fit for such as were not so. 284. He likewise often used this comparison : the empirical philosophers are like to pismires; they only lay up and use their store. The ratio- nalists are like to spiders ; they spin all out of their own bowels. But give me a philosopher, who like the bee hath a middle faculty, gathering from abroad, but digesting that which is gathered by his own virtue. 74 285. The lord St. Alban, who was not over- hasty to raise theories, but proceeded slowly by experiments, was wont to say to some philosophers, who would not go his pace, Gentlemen, nature is a labyrinth, in which the very haste you move with, will make you lose your way. 286. The same lord, when he spoke of the Dutchmen, used to say, that we could not abandon them for our safety, -nor keep them for our profit. And sometimes he would express the same sense in this manner ; we hold the Belgic lion by the ears. 287. The same lord, when a gentleman seem'd not much to approve of his liberality to his retinue, .said to him ; Sir, I am all of a piece ; if the head be lifted up, the inferior parts of the body must too. 288. The lord Bacon was wont to commend the advice of the plain old man at Buxton that sold besoms ; a proud lazy young fellow came to him for a besom upon trust: to whom the old man said; Friend, hast thou no money ? borrow of thy back, and borrow of thy belly, they'll ne'er ask thee again, I shall be dunning thee every day. 289. Jack Weeks said of a great man (just then dead) who pretended to some religion, but was none of the best livers ; Well, I hope he is in hea- ven. Every man thinks as he wishes ; but if he be in heaven, 'twere pity it were known. 75 290. His lordship, when he had finished this collection of apophthegms, concluded thus : Come now all is well : they say, he is not a wise man that will lose his friend for his wit ; but he is less a wise man, that will lose his friend for another man's wit. 16 ORNAMENT A RATION ALIA: OR, ELEGANT SENTENCES. 1 . ALEATOR, quanto in arte est melior, tanto est nequior : a gamester, the greater master he is in his art, the worse man he is. 2. Arcum, intensiofrangit; animum, remissio: much bending breaks the bow ; much unbending, the mind. 3. Bis vincit, qui se vincit in victoria : he con- quers twice, who upon victory overcomes himself. 4. Cum vitia prosint, peccat, qui recte facit: if vices were upon the whole matter profitable, the virtuous man would be the sinner. 5. Bene dormit, qui non sentit, quod male dor- miat : he sleeps well, who feels not that he sleeps ill. 6. Deliberare utilia, mora est tutissima: to de- liberate about useful things is the safest delay. 7. Dolor decrescit, ubi quo ere scat non habet: the flood of grief decreaseth, when it can swell no higher. 8. Etiam innocentes cogit mentiri dolor : pain makes even the innocent manalyar. 9. Etiam celeritas in desiderio, mora est : in de- sire, swiftness itself is delay. 77 10. Etiam capillus unus habet umbram suara ; the smallest hair casts a shadow. 1 1 . Fidem qui perdit, quo se servat in reliquum ? he that has lost his faith, what has he leftto live on ? 12. Formosa fades muta commendatio est: a beautiful face is a silent commendation. 13. Fortuna nimium quem fovet, stultum facit : fortune makes him fool, whom she makes her dar* ling. 1 4. Fortuna obesse nulli contenta est semel : for- tune is not content to do a man but one ill turn. 15. Facit gratum fortuna, quem nemo videt: the fortune which nobody sees, makes a man happy and unenvied. 16. Heu ! quam miserum est ab illo laedi, de quo non possis queri: O ! what a miserable thing 'tis to be hurt by such a one of whom 'tis in vain to complain. 17. Homo toties moritur quotes amittit suos ; a man dies as often as he loses his friends. 18. Haeredis fletus sub persona risus est : the tears of an heir are laughter under a vizard. 19. Jucundum nihil est, nisi quod reflcit varie- tas : nothing is pleasant, to which variety does not give a relish. 20. Invidiam ferre, aut fortis, aut felix potest : he may bear envy, who is either courageous or happy. 78 21 . In malis sperare bonum, nisi innocens, nemo potest : none but a virtuous man can hope well in all circumstances. 22. In vindicando, criminosa est celeritas : in taking revenge, the very haste we make is criminal. 23. In calamitoso risus etiam injuria est : when men are in calamity, if we do but laugh we offend. 24. Improbe Neptunum accusal, qui iterum naufragium facit : he accuseth Neptune unjustly, who makes shipwreck a second time. 25. Multis minatur, qui uni facit injuriam : he that injures one, threatens an hundred. 26. Mora omnis ingrata est, sed facit sapienti- am : all delay is ungrateful, but we are not wise without it. 27. Mori est felicis antequam mortum invocit: happy he who dies ere he calls for death to take him away. 28. Malus ubi bonum se simulat, tunc est pes- simus : an ill man is always ill ; but he is then worst of all, when he pretends to be a saint. 29. Magno cum periculo custoditur, quod mul- tis placet : lock and key will scarce keep that se- cure which pleases every body. 30. Male vivunt qui se semper victuros putant : they think ill, who think of living always. 3 1 . Male secum agit aeger, medicum qui haere- dem facit : that sick man does ill for himself, who makes his physician his heir. 79 32. Multos timere debet, quem multi timent: he of whom many are afraid, ought himself to fear many. 33. Nulla tarn bona est fortuna, de qua nil pos- sis queri: there's no fortune so good, but it bates an ace. S4. Parsbeneflcii est quod petitur, si bene neges: 'tis part of the gift, if you deny genteely what is asked of you. 35. Timidis vocat se cautem, parcum sordidus : the coward call himself a wary man ; and the miser says, he is frugal. 36. O vita ! misero longa, felici brevis : O life ! an age to him that is in misery ; and to him that is happy, a moment. 37. It is a strange desire which men have, tc seek power and lose liberty. 38. Children increase the cares of life : but they mitigate the remembrance of death. 39. Round dealing is the honour of man's na« ture ; and a mixture of falsehood is like allay in gold and silver, which may make the metal work the better, but it embaseth it. 40. Death opened the gate to good fame, and extinguisheth envy. 41. Schism, in the spiritual body of the church, is a greater scandal than a corruption in manners : as, in the natural body, a wound or solution of con- tinuity, is worse than a corrupt humour. 80 42. Revenge is a kind of wild justice, which the more a man's nature runs to, the more ought law to weed it out. 43. He that studieth revenge, keepeth his own wounds green. 44. Revengeful persons live and die like witches : Their life is mischievous, and their end is unfortunate. 45. It was an high speech of Seneca, (after the manner of the Stoics, that the good things which belong to prosperity, are to be wish'd ; but the good things which belong to adversity, are to be admired. 46. He that cannot see well, let him go softly. 47. If a man be thought secret, it inviteth dis- covery ; as the more close air sucketh in the more open. 48. Keep your authority wholly from your children, not so your purse. 49. Men of noble birth are noted to be envious towards new men when they rise. For the dis- tance is altered ; and it is like a deceit of the eye, that w T hen others come on, they think themselves go back. 50. That envy is most malignant which is like Cain's, who envied his brother, because his sacri- fice was better accepted, when there was nobody but God to look on, 81 5 1 . The lovers of great place are impatient of pri- vateness, even in age, which requires the shadow : like old townsmen that will be still sitting at their street-door, though there they offer age to scorn. 52. In evil, the best condition is, not to will; the next, not to can. 53. In great place, ask counsel of both times: of the ancient time, what is best-, and of the latter time, what is fittest. 54. As in nature things move more violently to their place, and calmly in their place : So virtue in ambition is violent ; in authority, settled and calm. ■ 55. Boldness in civil business, is like pronun- ciation in the orator of Demosthenes ; the first, second, and third thing. 56. Boldness is blind : whereof 'tis ill in coun- sel, but good in execution. For in counsel it is good to see dangers, in execution not to see them, except they be very great. 57 * Without good-nature, man is but a better kind of vermin. 58. God never wrought miracles to convince atheism, because his ordinary works convince it. 59. The great atheists indeed are hypocrites, who are always handling holy things, but without feeling; so as they must needs be cauterized in the end. 60. The master of superstition is the people. And in all superstition, wise men follow fools. G 82 61. In removing superstitions, care would be had, that (as it fareth in ill purgings,) the good be not taken away with the bad ; which commonly is done, when the people is the physician. 62. He that goeth into a country before he hath some entrance into the language, goeth to school, and not to travel. 63. It is a miserable state of mind (and yet it is commonly the case of kings) to have few things to desire, and many things to fear. 64. Depression of the nobility may make a king more absolute, but less safe. 65. AH precepts concerning kings, are, in effect, comprehended in these remembrances; remember thou art a man ; remember thou art God's vicegerent : The one bridleth their power, and the other their will. 66. Things will have their first or second agi- tation : If they be not tossed upon the argu- ments of counsel, they will be tossed upon the waves of fortune. 67. The true composition of a counsellor, is rather to be skill'd in his master's business than his nature ; for then he is like to advise him, and not to feed his humour. 68. Private opinion is more free, but opinion before others is more reverend. 83 69. Fortune is like a market, where many times if yon stay a little the price will fall. 70. Fortune sometimes turneth the handle of the bottle, which is easy to be taken hold of; and after the belly, which is hard to grasp. 7 1 . Generally it is good to commit the begin- ning of all great actions to Argus with an hundred eyes ; and the ends of them to Briareus with an hundred hands ; first to watch, and then to speed. 72. There is great difference betwixt a cunning man and a wise man. There be that can pack the cards, who yet can't play well ; they are good in canvasses and factions, and yet otherwise mean men. 73. Extreme self-lovers will set a man's house on fire, tho* it were but to roast their eggs. 74. New things, like strangers, are more ad- mired, and less favour'd. 75. It were good that men, in their innovations, would follow the example of time itself, which in- deed innovateth greatly, but quietly, and by de- grees scarce to be perceived. 76. They that reverence too much old time, are but a scorn to the new. 77. The Spaniards and Spartans have been noted to be of small dispatch. Mi venga la muerte de Spagna; let my death come from Spain, for then it will be sure to be long a coming. 84 78. You had better take for business a man some- what absurd, than over-formal. 79. Those who want friends to whom to open their griefs, are cannibals of their own hearts. 80. Number itself importeth not much in armies, where the people are of weak courage : For (as Virgil says) it never troubles a wolf how many the sheep be. 82. Let states, that aim at greatness, take heed how their nobility and gentry multiply too fast. In coppice woods, if you leave your staddles too thick, you shall never have clean underwood, but shrubs and bushes. 82. A civil war is like the heat of a fever ; but a foreign war is like the heat of exercise, and serveth to keep the body in health. 83. Suspicions among thoughts, are like bats among birds, they ever fly by twilight. 84. Base natures, if they find themselves once suspected, will never be true. 85. Men ought to find the difference between saltness and bitterness. Certainly he that hath a satirical vein, as he maketh others afraid of his wit, so he had need be afraid of others memory. 86. Discretion in speech is more than eloquence., 87. Men seem neither well to understand their riches, nor their strength : of the former they be- lieve greater things than they should, and of the I 85 latter much less. And from hence fatal pillars have bounded the progress of learning. 88. Riches are the baggage of virtue ; they can- not be spared nor left behind, but they hinder the march. 89. Great riches have sold more men than ever they have bought out. 90. Riches have wings, and sometimes they fly away of themselves, and sometimes they must be set flying to bring in more. 91. He that defers his charity 'till he is dead, is (if a man weighs it rightly) rather liberal of ano- ther man's, than of his own. 92. Ambition is like cholor, if he can move, it makes men active ; if it be stopp'd, it becomes adust, and makes men melancholy. 93. To take a soldier without ambition, is to pull oft' his spurs. 94. Some ambitious men seem as screens to princes in matters of danger and envy. For no man will take such parts, except he be like the seeld dove, that mounts and mounts, because he cannot see about him. 95. Princes and states should chuse such minis- ters as are more sensible of duty than rising ; and should discern a busy nature from a willing mind. 96. A man's nature runs either to herbs or weeds ; therefore let him seasonably water the one, and destroy the other, 80 97. If a man look sharp and attentively, he shall see fortune ; for tho' she be blind, she is not invi- sible. 98. Usury bringeth the treasure of the realm or state into a few hands : for the usurer being at cer- tainties, and the others at uncertainties ; at the end of the game most of the money will be in the box. 99. Beauty is best in a body that hath rather dig- nity of presence, than beauty of aspect. The beautiful prove accomplished, but not of great spi- rit ; and study, for the most, part rather behaviour than virtue. 100. The best part of beauty, is that which a picture cannot express. 101 . He who builds a fair house upon an ill seat, commits himself to prison. 102. If you would work on any man, you must either know his nature and fashions, and so lead him ; or, his ends, and so persuade him ; or his weaknesses and disadvantages, and so awe him ; or those that have interest in him, and so govern him. 103. Costly followers (among whom we may reckon those who are importunate in suits) are not to be liked ; lest while a man maketh his train lon- ger, he maketh his wings shorter. 104. Fame is like a river that beareth up things light and swolen, and drowns things weighty and solid. 87 105. Seneca saith well, that anger is like rain, that breaks itself upon that it falls. 106. Excusations, cessions, modesty itself well govern 'd, are but arts of ostentation. 107. High treason is not written in ice ; that when the body relenteth, the impression should go away. 108. The best governments are always subject to be like the fairest crystals, when every icicle or grain is seer), which in a fouler stone is never per- ceived. 109. Hollow church papists are like the roots of nettle, which themselves sting not ; but yet they bear all the stinging leaves. 88 SHORT NOTES FOR CIVIL CONVERSATION. 1. TO deceive mens expectations generally (with cautel) argueth a staid mind, and unexpect- ed constancy, viz. in matters of fear, anger, sud- den joy or grief, and all things which may affect or alter the mind in public or sudden accidents, or such like. 2. It is necessary to use a stedfast countenance, not waving with action, as in moving the head or hand too much, which sheweth a fantastical light and fickle operation of the spirit, and consequent- ly like mind as gesture : only it is sufficient, with leisure, to use a modest action in either. 3. In all kinds of speech, either pleasant, grave, severe, or ordinary, it is convenient to speak lei- surely, and rather drawingly, than hastily ; be- cause hasty speech confounds the memory, and oftentimes (besides unseemliness) drive a man ei- ther to a non-plus or unseemly stammering, harp- ing upon that which should follow ; w T hereas a slow speech confirmeth the memory, addeth a conceit of wisdom to the hearers, besides a seemliness of speech and countenance. 4. To desire in discourse, to hold all arguments, is ridiculous, wanting true judgment; for in all hings no man can be exquisite. 89 5, 6. To have common places to discourse and to want variety, is both tedious to the hearers, and shews a shallowness of conceit ; therefore it is good to vary, and suit speeches with the present occasions ; and to have a moderation in all our speeches, especially in jesting, of religion, state, great persons, weighty and important business, po- verty, or any thing deserving pity. 7. A long continued speech, without a good speech of interlocution, sheweth slowness; and a good reply, without a good set speech, sheweth shallowness and weakness. 8. To use many circumstances, ere you come to matter, is wearisome ; and to use none at all, is but blunt. 9. Bashfulness is a great hinderance to a man, both of uttering his conceit, and understanding what is propounded unto him : wherefore, it is good to press himself forwards with discretion, both in speech, and company of the better sort, Usus promptos facit. 90 LETTER TO LORD MOUNTJOYE, ON THE COLOURS OF GOOD AND EVIL. 1 SEND you the last part of the best book of Aris- totle of Stagira, who (as your Lordship knoweth) goeth for the best author. But saving the civil respect which is due to a received estimation, the man being a Grecian, and of a hasty wit, having hardly a discerning patience, much less a teaching patience, hath so delivered the matter, as I am glad to do the part of a good house-hen, which without any strangeness will sit upon pheasants eggs. And yet perchance, some that shall compare my lines with Aristotle's lines, will muse by what art, or rather by what revelation I could draw these conceits out of that place. But I that should know best, do freely acknowledge, that I had my light from him ; for where he gave me not matter to perfect, at the least he gave me occasion to in- vent. Wherein as I do him right, being myself a man that am as free from envying the dead in contemplation, as from envying the living in action or fortune : so yet nevertheless still I say, and I speak it more largely than before, that in perusing the writings of this person so much celebrated, whether it were the impediment of his wit, or that 91 he did it upon glory and affectation to be subtile, as one that if he had seen his own conceits clearly and perspicuously delivered, perhaps would have been out of love with them himself; or else upon policy, to keep himself close, as one that had been a challenger of all the world, and had raised infinite contradiction. To what cause soever it is to be ascribed, I do not find him to deliver and enwrap himself well of that he seemeth to conceive ; nor to be a master of his own knowledge. Neither do I for my part also (though I have brought in a new manner of handling this argument to make it pleasant and lightsome) pretend so to have over- come the nature of the subject; but that the full understanding and use of it will be somewhat dark, and best pleasing the taste of such wits as are pa- tient to stay the digesting and soluting unto them- selves of that which is sharp and subtile. Which was the cause, joined with the love and honour which I bare to your Lordship, as the person I know to have many virtues, and an excellent order of them, which moved me to dedicate this writing to your Lordship, after the antient manner: choosing both a friend, and one to whom I con- ceived the argument was agreeable. FRANCCS BACON. 9 C 2 A FRAGMENT. OF THE COLOURS OF GOOD AND EVIL. IN deliberatives, the point is, what is good, and what is evil ; and of good, what is greater; and of evil, what is less. So that the persuader's labour is, to make things appear good or evil, and that in higher or lower degree, which as it may be performed by true and solid reasons, so it may be represented also by colours, popularities and circumstances, which are of such force, as they sway the ordinary judgment either of a weak man, or of a wise man, not fully and considerately attending and pondering the matter. Besides their power to alter the nature of the subject in appearance, and so to lead to error, they are of no less use to quicken and strengthen the opinions and persuasions which are true ; for reasons plainly delivered, and always after one manner, especially with fine and fastidious minds, enter but heavily and dully : whereas if they be varied, and have more life and vigour put into them by these forms and insinuations, they cause a stronger apprehension, and many times suddenly win the mind to a resolution. Lastly, to make a true and safe judgment, nothing can be of greater 93 use and defence to the mind, than the discovering and reprehension of these colours, shewing in what cases they hold, and in what they deceive : which as it cannot be done but out of a very universal knowledge of the nature of things, so being per- formed, it so cleareth man's judgment and election, as it is the less apt to slide into any error. 94 TABLE OF THE COLOURS, OR APPEARANCES OF GOOD AND EVIL, AND THEIR DEGREES, AS PLACES OF PER- SUASION AND DISSUASION, AND THEIR SEVERAL FALLACIES, AND THE ELENCHES OF THEM. 1. Qui caters partes vel sectce secundas unanimiter defe- runt, cum singula principatum sibi vindicent, melior re- liquis videtur. Nam primus qutequc ex 'zelo videtur su- mere, secundas autem ex vero <$- merito tribuere. SO Cicero went about to prove the sect of Aca- demics, which suspended all asseveration, for to be the best ; for, saith he, ask a Stoic which phi- losophy is true, he will prefer his own. Then ask him, which approacheth next the truth, he will confess the Academics. So deal with the Epi- cure, that will scarce endure the Stoic to be in sight of him, so soon as he hath placed himself, he will place the Academics next him. So if a prince took divers competitors to a place, and examined them severally, whom next them- selves they would rarest commend, it were like the ablest man should have the most second voices. The fallax of this colour happeneth oft in re- spect of envy, for men are accustomed after them- selves and their own fashion, to incline unto them which are softest, and are least in their way, in de- 95 spight and derogation of them that hold them hard- est to it. So that this colour of meliority and pre- eminence is a sign of enervation and weakness. 2. Cujus excellentia vet exuperantia melior, id toto generc melius* Appertaining to this, are the forms : let us not wander in generalities : let us compare particular with particular, &c. This appearance, though it seem of strength, and rather logical than rhetori- cal, yet is very oft a fallax. Sometime because some things are in kind very casual, which if they escape prove excellent ; so that the kind is inferior, because it is so subject to peril, but that which is excellent being proved is superior, as the blossom of March, and the blos- som of May, whereof the French verse goeth : Burgeon de Mars enfans de Paris, Si un eschape, il en vaut dix. So that the blossom of May is generally better than the blossom of March $ and yet the best blossom of March is better than the best blossom of May. Sometimes because the nature of some kinds is to be more equal, and more indifferent, and not to have very distant degrees, as hath been noted in the warmer climates, the people are generally more wise, but in the northern climate, the wits of chief are greater. So in many armies, if the mat- 96 ter should be tried by duel between two champi- ons, the victory should go on the one side, and yet if it be tried by the gross, it would go on the other side : for excellencies go as it were by chance, but kinds go by a more certain nature ; as by dis- cipline in war. Lastly ; Many kinds have much refuse, which countervail that which they have excellent, and therefore generally metal is more precious than stone ; and yet a diamond is more precious than gold. 3. Quod ad veritatem refurtur majus est quam quod ad opi- nionem. Modus autem c§- probatio ejus quod ad opinionem pertinet h&c est ; quod quis si clam putaret forefacturus uon esset. So the Epicures say of the Stoics felicity placed in virtue : That it is like the felicity of a player, who if he were left of his auditory and their applause, he would straight be out of heart and countenance $ and therefore they call virtue bonum theatrale : but of riches the poet saith i Populus me sibilat At mihi plaudo. And of pleasure, Grata sub imo Gaudia corde premens, vultu simulante pudorem. The fallax of this colour is somewhat subtile, though the answer to the example be ready, for 97 virtue is not chosen propter auram popularem. But contrariwise, maxime omnium teipsum reve- rere ; so as a virtuous man will be virtuous in so- litudine, and not only in theatro, though percase it will be more strong by glory and fame, as an heat which is doubled by reflexion : but that de- nieth the supposition, it doth not reprehend the fallax, whereof the reprehension is a law, that virtue (such as is joined with labour and conflict) would not be chosen but for fame and opinion, yet it followeth not that the chief motive of the elec- tion should not be real and for itself, for fame may be only causa impulsiva, and not causa constituens, or emciens. As if there were two horses, and the one would do better without the spur than the other : but again, the other with the spur would far exceed the doing of the former, giving him the spur also; yet the latter will be judged to be the better horse, and the former as to say, tush, the life of this horse is but in the spur, will not serve as to a wise judgment: for since the ordinary in- strument of horsemanship is the spur, and that it is no matter of impediment or burden, the horse is not to be recounted the less of, which will not do well without the spur, but rather the other is to be reckoned a delicacy than a virtue ; so glory and honour are the spurs to virtue : and although virtue would languish without them, yet since they be 98 always at hand to attend virtue, virtue is not to be said the less chosen for itself, because it needeth the spur of fame and reputation : and therefore that position, nota ejus rei quod propter opinionem & non propter veritatem eligitur, haec est ; quod quis si clam putaret fore facturus non esset, is re- prehended, 4. Quod rem ijitegram servat bonum, quod sine receptu est malum: Nam se recipere non posse impotentice genus est, potentia autem bonum. Hereof ^Esop framed the fable of the two frogs, that consulted together in the time of drought, (when many plashes that they had repaired to were dry) what was to be done; and the one propounded to go down into a deep well, because it w r as like the water would not fail there ; but the other an- swered, yea, but if it do fail, how shall we get up again ? And the reason is, that human actions are so uncertain and subject to perils, as that seemeth the best course which hath most passages out of it. Appertaining to this persuasion, the forms are : you shall engage yourself on the other side, non tantum, quantum voles sumes ex fortuna, &c. you shall keep the matter in your own hand. The re- prehension of it is, that proceeding and resolving in all actions is necessary. For as he saith well, not to resolve, is to resolve; and many times it 99 breeds as many necessities, and engageth as far in some other sort, as to resolve. So it is but the covetous man's disease, translated in power, for the covetous man will enjoy nothing, because he will have his full store and possibility to enjoy the more ; so by this reason a man should execute no- thing, because he should be still indifferent, and at liberty to execute any thing. Besides, neces- sity and this same jacta est alea, hath many times an advantage, because it awaketh the powers of the mind, and strengthened endeavour ; coeteris pares necessitate certe superiores estis. 5. Quod ex pluribus constat £ divisibilibus est majus quam v quod ex paucioribus, <$ magis unum : nam omnia per partes \ considerata majora videntur : quare § pluralitas partium magnitudinem prai se fert : fortius autem operatur plura- \ litas partium si ordo absit ; nam inducit similitudiiiem in- finitiy <$• impedit comprehensionem. This colour seemeth palpable, for it is not plu- rality of parts without majority of parts, that mak- eth the total greater ; yet nevertheless it often car- ries the mind away, yea, it deceiveth the sense; as it seemeth to the eye a shorter distance of way, if it be all dead and continued, than if it have trees or buildings, or any other marks whereby the eye may divide it. So when a great monied man hath divided his chests, and coins, and bags, he seemeth to himself richer than he was ; 100 and therefore a way to amplify any thing is, to break it, and to make anatomy of it in several parts, and to examine it according to several cir- cumstances. And this maketh the greater shew if it be done without order, for confusion maketh things muster more ; and besides, what is set down by order and division, doth demonstrate that nothing is left out or omitted, but all is there ; whereas if it be without order, both the mind com- prehendeth less that which is set down ; and be- sides, it leaveth a suspicion, as if more might be said than is expressed. This colour deceiveth, if Ihe mind of him that is to be persuaded, do of itself over-conceive, or prejudge of the greatness of any thing ; for then the breaking of it will make it seem less, because it maketh it to appear more according to the truth : and therefore if a man be in sickness or pain, the time will seem longer without a clock or hour-glass, than with it ; for the mind doth value every moment, and then the hour doth rather sum up the moments, than di- vide the day. So in a dead plain the way seem- eth the longer, because the eye hath preconceived it shorter than the truth; and the frustrating of that maketh it seem longer than the truth. There- fore if any man have an over-great opinion of any thing, then if another think by breaking it into several considerations, he shall make it seem great- 101 er to him, he will be deceived ; and therefore in such cases it is not safe to divide, but to extol the entire still in general. Another case wherein this colour deceiveth, is, when the matter broken or divided is not comprehended by the sense, or made at once in respect of the distracting or scattering of it ; and being entire, and not divided, is com- prehended : as an hundred pounds in heaps of five pounds, will shew more than in one gross heap, so as the heaps be all upon one table to be seen at once, otherwise not : as flowers growing scattered in divers beds, will shew more than if they did grow in one bed, so as all those beds be within a plot, that they be object to view at once, other- wise not : And therefore men, whose living lieth together in one shire, are commonly counted great- er landed than those whose livings are dispersed, though it be more, because of the notice and com- prehension. A third case wherein this colour de- ceiveth, and it is not so properly a case or repre- hension, as it is a counter colour, being in effect as large as the colour itself; and that is, omnis com- positio indigentise cujusdam in singulis videtur es- se particeps, because if one thing would serve the turn, it were ever best, but the defect and imper- fections of things hath brought in that help to piece them up ; as it is said, Martha, Martha, attendis ad plurima, unum sufficit. So likewise hereupon 102 iEsop framed the fable of the fox and the cat ; whereas the fox bragged what a number of shifts and devices he had to get from the hounds, and the cat said he had but one, which was to climb a tree, which in proof was better worth than all the rest ; whereof the proverb grew, multa novit vulpes, sed felis unum magnum. And in the moral of this fa- ble it comes likewise to pass, that a good sure friend is a better help at a pinch, than all the stratagems and policies of a man's own wit. So it falleth out to be a common error in negotiating, whereas men have many reasons to induce or persuade, they strive commonly to utter and use them all at once, which weakneth them. For it argueth, as was said, aneediness in every of the reasons by itself, as if one did not trust to any of them, but fled from one to another, helping himself only with that : Et quae non prosunt singula, multa juvant. Indeed in a set speech in an assembly, it is expected a man should use all his reasons in the case he handleth, but in private persuasions it is always a great error. A fourth case wherein this colour may be repre- hended, is in respect of that same vis unita fortior, according to the tale of the French king, that when the emperor's embassador had recited his master's style at large, which consisteth of many countries and dominions ; the French king willed his chancellor, or other minister, to repeat over 103 France as many times as the other had recited the several dominions; intending it was equivalent with them all, and more compacted and united. There is also appertaining to this colour another point, why breaking of a thing doth help it, not by way of adding a shew of magnitude unto it, but a note of excellency and rarity; whereof the forms are, where shall you find such a concurrence ? Great, but not compleat; for it seems a less work of nature or fortune, to make any thing in his kind greater than ordinary, than to make a strange com- position. Yet if it be narrowly considered, this colour will be reprehended or encountred, by im- puting to all excellencies in compositions a kind of poverty, or at least a casualty or jeopardy ; for from that which is excellent in greatness, some- what may be taken, or there may be a decay, and yet sufficiently left ; but from that which hath his price in composition if you take away any thing, or any part do fail, all is disgrace. 6. Cujus prlvatio bona, malum ; cujus privatio mala, bonum. The forms to make it conceived, that that was evil which is changed for the better, are, he that is in hell thinks there is no other heaven. Satis quercus, Acorns were good till bread was found, &c. And of the other side, the forms to make it conceived, that that was good w r hich was changed 104 for the worse are, bona magis carendo quam fruendo sentimus : bona a tergo formosissima : good things never appear in their full beauty, till they turn their back, and be going away, &c. The reprehension of this colour is, that the good or evil which is removed, may be esteemed good or evil comparatively, and not positviely or simply. So that if the privation be good, it follows not the former condition was evil, but less good; for the flower or blossom is a positive good, although the remove of it to give place to the fruit, be a com- parative good. So in the tale of JEsop, when the old fainting man in the heat of the day cast down his burden, and called for death ; and when death came to know his will with him, said, it was for nothing but to help him up with his burden again. It doth not follow, that because death, which was the privation of the burden, was ill, therefore the burden was good. And in this part, the ordinary form of malum necessarium aptly reprehendeth this colour : for privatio mali necessarii est mala, and yet that doth not convert the nature of the necessary evil, but it is evil. Again, it cometh sometimes to pass, that there is an equality in the change of privation, and as it were a dilemma boni, or a dilemma mali : so that the corruption of the one good, is a generation of the other. Sorti pater sequus utrique est: and 105 contrary, the remedy of the one evil, is the occa- sion and commencement of another, as in Scylla and Charybdis. 7. Quod bono vicinum bonum, quod a bono remotum, malum. Such is the nature of things, that things contrary, and distant in nature and quality, are also sever'd and disjoined in place ; and things like and con- senting in quality, are placed, and as it were quar- tered together : for partly in regard of the nature, to spread, multiply, and infect in similitude ; and partly in regard of nature to break, expel, and alter that which is disagreeable and contrary, most things do either associate, and draw near to them- selves the like, or at least assimilate to themselves that which approacheth near them, and do also drive away, chase and exterminate their contraries. And that is the reason commonly yielded, why the middle region of the air should be coldest, because the sun and stars are either hot by direct beams, or by reflection. The direct beams heat the upper region, the reflected beams from the earth and seas, heat the lower region. That which is in the midst, being farthest distant in place from these two regions of heat, are most distant in nature, that is coldest, which is that they term cold or hot per antiperistasin ; that is, environing by contraries : which was pleasantly taken hold of by him that 106 said, that an honest man in these days, must needs be more honest than in ages heretofore, propter antiperistasin, because- the shutting of him in the midst of contraries, must needs make the honesty stronger and more compact in itself. The repre- hension of this colour is: first many things of amplitude in their kind, do as it were engross to themselves all, and leave that which is next them most destitute, as the shoots or underwood, that grow near a great and spread tree, is the most pined and shrubby wood of the field, because the great tree doth deprive and deceive them of sap and nourishment; so he saith well, divitis servi maxime servi : and the comparison was pleasant of him, that compared courtiers attendant in the courts of princes without great place or office, to fasting-days, which were next the holy-days, but otherwise were the leanest days in all the week. Another reprehension is, that things of greatness and predominancy, though they do not extenuate the things adjoining in substance, yet they drown them and obscure them in shew and appearance ; and therefore the astronomers say, that whereas in all other planets conjunction is the perfectest amity ; the sun contrariwise is good by aspect, but evil by conjunction. A third reprehension is, because evil approacheth to good sometimes for concealment, sometimes 107 for protection ; and good to evil for conversion and reformation. So hypocrisy draweth near to reli- gion for covert, and hiding itself; saepe latet vitium proximitate boni ; and sanctuary men, which were commonly inordinate men and male- factors, were wont to be nearest to priests and prelates, and holy men ; for the majesty of good things is such, as the confines of them are reverend. On the other side, our Saviour charged with near- ness of publicans and rioters, said, the physician approacheth the sick, rather than the whole, 8. Quod quis culpa sua contraiit, niajus malum: quod ab ei~ tends imponitur, minus malum. The reason is, because the sting and remorse ol the mind accusing itself, doubleth all adversity : contrariwise, the considering and recording in- wardly, that a man is clear and free from fault, and just imputation, doth attemper outward cala- mities. For if the will be in the sense, and in the conscience both, there is a gemination of it; but if evil be in the one, and comfort in the other, it is a kind of compensation : so the poets in tragedies do make the most passionate lamentation, and those that forerun final despair, to be accusing^ questioning, and torturing of a man's life. Seque unum clamat causamque caputque malorum. And contrariwise, the extremities of worthy per- sons have been annihilated in the consideration of 108 their own good deserving. Besides, when the evil cometh from without, there is left a kind of evapo- ration of grief, if it come by human injury, either by indignation, and meditating of revenge from ourselves, or by expecting of fore-conceiving, that Nemesis and retribution will take hold of the authors of our hurt $ or if it be by fortune or acci- dent, yet there is left a kind of expostulation against the divine powers. Atque deos atque astra vocat crudelia mater. But where the evil is derived from a man's own fault, there all strikes deadly inwards, and suffo- cateth. The reprehension of this colour is, first in respect of hope, for reformation of our faults is in nostra potestate ; but amendment of our fortune simply, is not. Therefore Demosthenes, in many of his orations, saith thus to the people of Athens: That which having regard to the time past, is the worse point and circumstance of all the rest; that as to the time to come is the best : what is that ? Even this, that by your sloth, irresolution and mis- government, your affairs are grown to this declina- tion and decay. For had you used and ordered your means and forces to the best, and done your parts every way to the full, and notwithstanding your matters should have gone backward in this manner as they do, there had been no hope left of recovery or reparation ; but since it hath been only 109 by our own errors, &c. So Epictetus in his de- grees saith, the worst state of man is to accuse ex- ternal things, better than that to accuse a man's self, and best of all ro accuse neither. Another reprehension of this colour, is in respect of the well bearing of evils, wherewith a man can charge nobody but himself, which maketh them the less. Leve fit quod bene fertur onus. And therefore many natures that are either ex- tremely proud, and will take no fault to themselves, or else very true, and cleaving to themselves (when they see the blame of any thing that falls out ill must light upon themselves) have no other shift but to bear it out well, and to make the least of it ; for as we see when sometimes a fault is committed, and before it be known who is to blame, much ado is made of it ; but after, if it appear to be done by a son, or by a wife, or by a near friend, then it is light made of: so much more when a man must take it upon himself. And therefore it is commonly seen, that women that marry husbands of their own chusing against their friends consents, if they be never so ill used, yet you shall seldom see them complain, but set a good face on it. 110 9. Quod opera <$■ virtute nostra partum est, majus bonum ; quod ab alieno benejicio vet ab indulgentia fortune delation est, minus bonum, The reasons are first the future hope, because in the favours of others, or the good winds of for- tune, we have no state or certainty ; in our en- deavours or ability we have. So as when they have purchased us one good fortune, we have them as ready and better edged, and inured to procure ano- ther. The forms be: you have won this by play, you have not only the water, but you have the receipt, you can make it again if it he lost, &c. Next, because these properties which we enjoy by the benefit of others, carry with them an obligation which seemeth a kind of burden, whereas the other which derive from ourselves are like the fre- est Patents, absque aliquo inde reddendo ; and if they proceed from fortune or providence, yet they seem to touch us secretly with the reverence of the divine powers, whose favours we taste, and there- fore work a kind of religious fear and restraint ; whereas in the other kind, that comes to pass which the prophet speaketh, laetantur & exul- tant, iramolant plagis suis, & sacrificant reti suo. Thirdly, Because that which cometh unto us without our own virtue, yielded not that commen- Ill elation and reputation; for actions of great felicity may draw wonder, but praise less ; as Cicero said Caesar, que miremur, habemus; quae laudemus, expectamus. Fourthly, Because the purchases of our own in- dustry are joined commonly with labour aud strife, which gives an edge and appetite, and makes the fruition of our desires more pleasant. Suavis ci- bus a venatu On the other side, there be four counter colours to this colour, rather than reprehensions, because they be as large as the colour itself; first because felicity seemeth to be a character of the favour and love of the divine powers, and accordingly work- eth both confidence in ourselves, and respect and authority from others. And this felicity extendelh to many casual things, whereunto the care or virtue of man cannot extend, and therefore seemeth to be a larger good; as when Caesar said to the sailor, Caesarem portas & fortunam ejus; if he had said, & virtutem ejus, it had been small comfort against a tempest, otherwise than if it might seem upon merit to induce fortune. Next, whatsoever is done by virtue aud indus- try, seems to be done by a kind of habit and art, and therefore open to be imitated and followed ; whereas felicity is imitable : so we generally see, that things of nature seem more excellent than 112 things of art, because they be imitable: for, quod imatibile est, potentia quadam vulgatum est. Thirdly. Felicity commendeth those things which come without our own labour ; ior they seem gifts, and the other seems penniworths ; whereupon Plu- tarch saith elegantly of the acts of Timoleon, who was so fortunate, compared with the acts of Age- silaus and Epaminondas ; that they were like Ho- mer's verses, they ran so easily and so well. And therefore it is the word we give unto poesy, term- ing it a happy vein, because facility seemeth ever to come from happiness. Fourthly, This same praeter spem, vel praeter expectatem, doth increase the price and pleasure of many things, and this cannot be incident to those things that proceed from our own care and compass. 10. Gradus privation-is major videtur quam gradus diminuti- onis ; fy rursus gradus inceptionis major videtur, quam gradus incrementi. It is a position in the mathematics, that there is no proportion between somewhat and nothing, therefore the degree of nullity and quiddity or act, seemeth larger than the degrees of increase and decrease ; as to a monoculus it is more to lose one eye, than to a man that hath two eyes. So if one have lost divers children, it is more grief to him to 113 lose the last than all the rest ; because he is spes. gregis. And therefore Sibylla when she brought her three books, and had burned two, did double the whole price of both the other, because the burning of that had been gradus privationis, and not diminutionis. This colour is reprehended first in those things, the use and service whereof rest-* eth in sufficiency, competency, or determinate quantity : as if a man be to pay one hundred pounds upon a penalty, it is more to him to want twelve pence, than after that twelve pence supposed to be wanting, to want ten shillings more ; so the de- cay of a man's estate seems to be most touched in the degree, when he first grows behind, more than afterwards, when he proves nothing worth. And hereof the common forms are sera in fundo parsi- monia, and as good never a whit, as never the better, &c. It is reprehended also in respect of that notion, corruptio unius generatio alterius : so that gradus privationis is many times less matter, because it gives the cause and motive to some new course. As when Demosthenes reprehended the people, for hearkening to the conditions offered by king Philip, being not honourable nor equal, he saith they were but elements of their sloth and weakness, which if they were taken away, ne- cessity would teach them stronger resolutions. So doctor Hector was wont to say to the dames of 114 London, when they complained they were they could not tell how, but yet they could not en- dure to take any medicine, he would tell them, their way was only to be sick, for then they would be glad to take any medicine. Thirdly, This colour may be reprehended, in respect that the degree of decrease is more sensi- tive than the degree of privation, for in the mind of man gradus diminutionis may work a waver- ing between hope and fear, and so keep the mind in suspence, from settling and accommodating in patience and resolution; hereof the common forms are, better eye out, than always ake; make or mar, &c. For the second branch of this colour, it depends upon the same general reason : hence grew the common place of extolling the beginning of every thing ; dimidium facti quibene ccepit habet. This made the astrologers so idle as to judge of a man's nature and destiny, by the constellation of the mo- ment of his nativity or conception. This colour is reprehended, because many inceptions are but as Epicurus termeth them, tentamenta, that is, im- perfect offers and essays, which vanish and come to no substance without an iteration ; so as in such cases the second degree seems the worthiest, as the body-horse in the cart, that draweth more than the fore-horse : hereof the common forms are, 115 the second blow makes the fray, the second word makes the bargain ; alter malo principium dedit, alter modum abstulit, &c. Another reprehension of this colour is in respect of defatigation, which makes perseverance of greater dignity than incep- tion, for chance or instinct of nature may cause in- ception ; but settled affection, or judgment, maketh the continuance. Thirdly, this colour is reprehended in such things, which have a natural course and inclination, con- trary to an inception. So that the inception is conti- nually evacuated and gets no start, but there be- hoveth prima inceptio, as in the common form, non progredi est regredi, qui non proficit deficit, running against the hill ; rowing against the stream, &c. For if it be with the stream or with the hill, then the degree of inception is more than all the rest. Fourthly, this colour is to be understood of gra- dus inceptionis a potentia ad actum, comparatus cum gradu ab actu ad incrementum. For other- wise, major videtur gradus ab impotentia, ad po- tentiam ; % quam a potentia ad actum. i NEW ATLANTIS. A WORK UNFINISHED. TO THE READER. IT was the intention of Lord Eacon, in writing this inter esting fable, to exhibit a model, or description of a College, for the interpreting of nature, and the producing of great and marvellous works for the benefit of mankind, under the name of Solomon's House, or the College of the Six: Days Works. He proceeded so far as to accomplish this part. It is not possible that this vast model could be imitat- ed in all its parts, notwithstanding most things therein are within the power of man to effect. His Lordship far- ther intended to compose a frame of laws of the best state or mould of a common-wealth, but, foreseeing it would be along work, his desire of prosecuting other objects, (to him more preferable) prevented it. NEW ATLANTIS. W E sailed from Peru (where we had continued by the space of one whole year) for China and Ja- pan, by the south sea, taking with us victuals for twelve months ; and had good winds from the east though soft and weak, for five months space and more. But then the wind came about, and settled in the west for many days, so as we could make little or no way, and were sometimes in purpose to turn back. But then again there arose strong and great winds from the south, with a point east, which carried us up (for all that we could do) towards the north : by which time our victuals failed us, though we had made good spare of them. So that rinding ourselves in the midst of the greatest wilderness of waters in the world, without victual, we gave our selves for lost men, and prepared for death. Yet we did lift up our hearts and voices to God above, who sheweth his wonders in the deep ; beseeching him of his mercy, that as in the beginning he dis- covered the face of the deep, and brought forth dry land ; so he would now discover land to us,. 122 that we might not perish. And it came to pass, that the next day about evening, we saw within a kenning before us, towards the north, as it were thick clouds, which did put us in some hope of land ; knowing how that part of the south sea was utterly unknown ; and might have islands or continents, that hitherto were not come to light. Wherefore we bent our course thither, where we saw the appearance of land all that night ; and in the dawning of the next day, we might plainly discern that it was a land, flat to our sight, and full of boscage, which made it 9hew the more dark. And after an hour and a halPs sailing, we entered into a good haven, being the port of a fair city ; not great indeed, but well built, and that gave a pleasant view from the sea : and we thinking every minute long till we w r ere on land, came close to the shore, and offered to land. But straightways we saw divers of the people with bastons in their hands, (as it were) forbidding us to land ; yet with- out any cries or fierceness, but only as warning us off, by signs that they made. Whereupon being not a little discomforted, we were advising with ourselves what we should do. During which time there made forth to us a small boat, with about eight persons in it ; whereof one of them had in his hand a tip-staff of a yellow cane, tipped at both ends with blue, who made aboard our ship, with- 123 out any shew of distrust at all. And when he saw one of our number present himself somewhat afore the rest, he drew forth a little scrole of parchment (somewhat yellower than our parchment, and shin- ing like the leaves of writing tables, but otherwise soft and flexible) and delivered it to our foremost man. In which scroie were written in ancient He- brew, and in ancient Greek, and in good Latin of the school, and in Spanish, these words ; Land ye not, none of you, and provide to be gone, from this coast, within sixteen days, except you have farther time given you : mean while, if you want fresh water, or victual, or help for your sick, or that your ship needeth repair, write down your wants, and you shall have that which belongeth to mercy. This scrole was signed with a stamp of cherubims wings, not spread, but hanging down- wards, and by them a cross. This being deliver- ed, the officer returned, and left only a servant with us to receive our answer. Consulting here- upon amongst ourselves, we were much perplexed. The denial of landing, and hasty warning us away, troubled us much ; on the other side, to find that the people had languages, and were so full of hu- manity, did comfort us not a little. And above all, the sign of the cross to that instrument was to us a great rejoicing, and as it were a certain presage of good. Our answer was in the Spanish tongue; 124 That for our ship it was well ; for we had rather met with calms and contrary winds, than any tem- pests. For our sick they were many, and in very ill case; so that if they were not permitted to land, they ran in danger of their lives. Our other wants we set down in particular; adding, that we had some little store of merchandize, which if it pleas- ed them to deal for, it might supply our wants, without being chargeable unto them. We offered some reward in pistolets unto the servant, and a piece of crimson velvet to be presented to the of- ficer : but the servant took them not, nor would scarce look upon them ; and so left us, and went back in another little boat which was sent for him. About three hours after we had dispatched our answer, there came towards us a person (as it seemed) of place. He had on him a gown with wide sleeves, of a kind of water chamblet, of an excellent azure colour, far more glossy than ours ; his under apparel was green, and so was his hat, being in the form of a turban, daintily made, and not so huge as the Turkish turbans ; and the locks of his hair came down below the brims of it. A reverend man was he to behold. He came in a boat, gilt in some part of it, with four persons more only in that boat ; and was followed by ano- ther boat, wherein were some twenty. When he was come within a flight shot of our ship, .signs 125 were made to us, that we should send forth some to meet him upon the water, which we presently did in our ship-boat, sending the principal man amongst us, save one, and four of our number with him. When w T e were come within six yards of their boat, they called to us to stay, and not to approach farther, which we did. And thereupon the man, whom I before described, stood up, and with a loud voice in Spanish, asked, are ye Chris- tians ? We answered, we were ; fearing the less, because of the cross we had seen in the subscription. At which answer the said person lift up his right hand towards heaven, and drew it softly to his mouth, (which is the gesture they use when they thank God) and then said : if ye will swear (all of you) by the merits of the Saviour, that ye are no pi- rates : nor have shed blood lawfully nor unlawfully within forty days past; you may have licence to come on land. We said, we were all ready to take that oath. Whereupon one of those that were with him, being (as it seemed) a notary, made an entry of this act. Which done, another of the attend- ants of the great person, which was with him in the same boat, after his lord had spoken a little to him, said aloud ; My lord would have you know that it is not of pride, or greatness, that hecometh not aboard your ship ,• but for that, in your answer, you declare, that you have many sick amongst you, V26 he was warned by the conservator of health of the city, that he should keep a distance. We bowed ourselves towards him, and answered, we were his humble servants ; and accounted for great ho- nour, and singular humanity towards us, that which was already done; but hoped well, that the nature of the sickness of our men was not infec- tious. So he returned ; and a while after came the notary to us aboard our ship; holding in his hand a fruit of that country, like an orange, but of co- lour between orange-tawny and scarlet, which cast a most excellent odour. He used it (as it seemeth) for a preservative against infection. He gave us our oath ; by the name of Jesus, and his merits ; and after told us, that the next day by six of the clock in the morning we should be sent to, and brought to the stranger's house, (so he called it,) where we should be accommodated of things, both for our whole, and for our sick. So he left us; and when we offered him some pistolets, he smil- ing, said ; he must not be twice paid for one la- bour : meaning (as I take it) that he had a salary suffi- cient of the state for his service. For (as I after learn- ed) they call an officer that taketh rewards, twice paid. The next morning early, there came to us the same officer that came to us at first with his cane, and told us, he came to conduct us to the stran- ger's house ; and that he had prevented the hour. 127 because we might have the whole day before us, for our business. For (said he) if you will follow my advice, there shall first go with me some few of you, and see the place, and how it may be made convenient for -you ; and then you may send for your sick, and the rest of your number, which ye will bring on land. We thanked him, and said, that this care, which he took of desolate strangers, God would reward. And so six of us went on land with him : and when we were on land, he went before u>, and turned to us, and said, he was but our servant, and our guide. He led us through three fair streets; and all the way we went, there were gathered some people on both sides, standing in a row ; but in so civil a fashion, as if it had been, not to wonder at us, but to wel- come us: and divers of them, as we passed by them, put their arms a little abroad ; which is their gesture, when they bid anv welcome. The stran- ger's house is a fair and spacious house, built of brick, of somewhat a bluer colour than our brick; and with handsome windows, some of glass, some of a kind of cambrick oiled. He brought us first into a fair parlour above stairs, and then asked us, what number of persons we were ? And how many sick ? We answered, we were in all (sick and whole) one and fifty persons, whereof our sick Were seventeen. He desired us to have patience 123 a little, and to stay till he came back to us, which was about an hour after ; and then he led us to see the chambers, which were provided for us, being in number nineteen: They having cast it (as it seemeth) that four of those chambers, which were better than the rest, might receive four of the principal men of our company, and lodge them alone by themselves ; and the other fifteen cham- bers were to lodge us, two and two together. The chambers were handsome and chearful chambers, and furnished civilly. Then he led us to a long gallery, like a dorture, where he shewed us all along the one side (for the other side was but wall and window) seventeen cells, very neat ones, hav- ing partitions of cedar wood. Which gallery and cells, being in all forty, (many more than we needed,) were instituted as an infirmary for sick persons. And he told us withal, that as any of our sick waxed well, he might be removed from his cell to a chamber : for which purpose there were set forth ten spare chambers, besides the number we spake of before. This done, he brought us back to the parlour, and lifting up his cane a little, (as they do when they give any charge or command,) said to us, ye are to know that the custom of the land requireth, that after this day and to-morrow, (which we give you for removing your people from your ship,) you are to keep within 129 doors for three days. But let it not trouble you, nor do not think yourselves restrained, but rather left to your rest and ease. You shall want nothing, and there are six of our people appointed to attend you, for any business you may have abroad. We gave him thanks, with all affection and respect, and said ; God surely is manifested in this land. We offered him twenty pistolets ; but he smiled, and only said ; what ? twice paid ! And so he left us. Soon after our dinner was served in ; which was right good viands, both for bread and meat : bet- ter than any collegiate diet, that I have known in Europe. We had also drink of three sorts, all wholesome and good ; wine of the grape ; a drink of grain, such as is with us our ale, but more clear : and a kind of cyder made of a fruit of that country ; a wonderful pleasing and refreshing drink. Be- sides, there were brought in to us great store of those scarlet oranges for our sick ; which (they said) were an assured remedy for sickness taken at sea. X nere was given us also, a box of small grey or whitish pills, which they wished our sick should take, one of the pills every night before sleep; which (they said) would hasten their recovery. The next day, after that our trouble of carriage, and removing of our men, and goods out of our ship, was somewhat settled and quiet, I thought 130 good to cttU our company together; and when they were assembled, said unto them; my dear friends, let us know ourselves, and how it standeth with us. We are men cast on land, as Jonas was, out of the whale's belly, when we were as buried in the deep : and now we are on land, we are but betw r een death and life ; for we are beyond both the old world and the new ; and whether ever we shall see Europe, God only knoweth. It is a kind of miracle hath brought us hither : and it must be little less that shall bring us hence. Therefore in regard of our deliverance past, and our danger present and to come, let us look up to God, and every man reform his own ways. Besides we are come here amongst a christian people, full of piety and humanity : let us not bring that confusion of face upon ourselves, as to shew our vices, or un- worthiness before them. Yet there is more: for they have by commandment, (though in form of courtesy) cloyster'd us within these walls for three days : wno knoweth, whether it be not to take some taste of our manners and conditions ? And if they find them bad, to banish us straightways ; if good, to give.us farther time. For these men, that they have given us for attendance, may withal have an eye upon us. Therefore for God's love, and as we love the weal of our souls and bodies, let us so behave ourselves, as we may be at peace with 131 God, and may find grace in the eyes of this people. Our company with one voice thanked me for my good admonition, and promised me to live soberly and civilly, and without giving any the least occa- sion of offence. So we spent our three days joy- fully, and without care, in expectation of what would be done with us, when they were expired. During which time, we had every hour joy of the amendment of our sick ; who thought themselves cast into some divine pool of healing ; they mended so kindly, and so fast. The morrow after our three days were past, there came to us a new man that we had not seen before, cloathed in blue as the former was, save that his turban was white, with a small red cross on the top. He had also a tippet of fine linen. At his coming in he did bend to us a little, and put his arms abroad. We of our parts saluted him in a very lowly and submissive manner ; as looking that from him we should receive sentence of life or death. He desired to speak with some few of us : whereupon six of us only stayed, and the rest avoided the room. He said ; I am by office go- vernor of this house of strangers, and by vocation I am a christian priest ; and therefore am come to you, to offer you my service, both as strangers, and chiefly as Christians. Some things I may tell you, which I think you will not be unwilling to hear. 132 The state hath given you licence to stay on land for the space of six weeks : and let it not trouble you if your occasions ask farther time, for the law in this point is not precise ; and I do not doubt but myself shall be able to obtain for you such far- ther time as may be convenient. Ye shall also understand, that the strangers house is at this time rich, and much beforehand ; for it hath laid up re- venue these thirty-seven years; for so long it is since any stranger arrived in this part: and there- fore take ye no care ; the state will defray you all the time you stay; neither shall you stay one day the less for that. As for any merchandize you have brought, ye shall be well used, and have your return either in merchandize, or in gold and silver : for to us it is all one. And if you have any other request to make, hide it not. For ye shall find, we will not m;ike your countenance to fall by the an- swer ye shall receive. Only this I must tell you, that none of you must go above a karan, (that is with them a mile and an half) from the walls of the city without special leave. We answered, after we had looked a while upon one another, admir- ing this gracious and parent-like usage ; that we could not tell what to say : for we wanted words to express our thanks; and his noble free offers left us nothing to ask. It seemed to us, that we had before us a picture of our salvation in heaven : for 133 we that were a while since in the jaws of death, were now brought into a place, where we found nothing but consolations. For the commandment laid upon us, we would not fail to obey it, though it was impossible but our hearts should be inflamed to tread farther upon this happy and holy ground. We added; that our tongues should first cleave to the roofs of our mouths, ere we should forget, either his reverend person, or this whole nation in our prayers. We also most humbly besought him to accept of us as his true servants, by as just a right as ever men on earth were bounden, laying and presenting, both our persons, and all we had at his feet. He said ; he was a priest, and looked for a priest's reward ; which was our brotherly love, and the good of our souls and bodies. So he went from us, not without tears of tenderness in his eyes; and left us also confused with joy and kindness, saying amongst ourselves, that we were come into a land of angels, which did appear to us daily, and prevent us with comforts which we thought not of, much less expected. The next day about ten of the clock, the gover- nor came to us again, and after salutations said familiarly; that he was come to visit us; and called for a chair, and sat him down ; and we be- ing some ten of us (the rest were of the meaner sort, or else gone abroad) sat down with him. And 134 when we were set, he begun thus : We of this island of Bensalem (for so they call it in their lan- guage) have this ; that by means of our solitary situation, and the laws of secrecy which we have for our travellers, and our rare admission of stran- gers; we know well most part of the habitable world, and are ourselves unknown. Therefore be- cause he that knoweth least is fittest to ask questions, it is more reason for the entertainment of the time, that ye ask me questions, than that 1 ask you. We answered ; that we humbly thanked him, that he would give us leave so to do : and that we conceived by the taste we had already, that there was no worldly thing on earth more worthy to be known, than the state of that happy land. But above all (we said) since that we were met from the several ends of the world, and hoped assuredly that we should meet one day in the king- dom of heaven (for that we were both parts Christians :) we desired to know (in respect that land was so remote, and so divided by vast and unknown seas, from the land where our Saviour walked on earth) who was the Apostle of that na- tion, and how it was converted to the faith ? It appeared in his face that he took great contentment in this our question : he said, ye knit my heart to you, by asking this question in the first place; for it sheweth that you first seek the kingdom of 135 heaven j and I shall gladly and briefly satisfy your demand. About twenty years after the ascension of our Saviour, it came to pass, that there was seen by the people of Renfusa, (a city upon the eastern coast of our island) within night, (the night was cloudy and calm) as it might be some miles in the sea, a great pillar of light ; not sharp, but in form of a column, or cylinder, rising from the sea, a great way up towards heaven ; and on the top of it was seen a large cross of light, more bright and resplendent than the body of the pillar. Upon which so strange a spectacle, the people of the city gathered apace together upon the sands to wonder ; and so after put themselves into a num- ber of small boats, to go nearer to this marvellous sight. But when the boats were come within (a- bout) sixty yards of the pillar, they found them- selves all bound, and could go no farther, yet so as they might move to go about, but might not ap- proach nearer ; so as the boats stood all as in a theatre, beholding this light as an heavenly sign. It so fell out, that there was in one of the boats, one of the wise men of the society of Solomon's house; which house or college, (my good brethren) is the very eye of this kingdom ; who having a while attentively and devoutly viewed and con- templated this pillar and cross, fell down upon his 136' face ; and then raising himself upon his knees, and lifting up his hands to heaven, made his prayers in this manner : Lord God of heaven and earth ; thou hast vouch- safed of thy grace, to those of our order, to know thy works of creation, and the secrets of them ; and to discern (as far as appertained to the gene- rations of men) between divine miracles, works of nature, works of art, and impostures and illu- sions of all sorts. I do here acknowledge and tes- tify before this people, that the thing we now see before our eyes, is thy finger, and a true miracle : And forasmuch as we learn in our books, that thou never workest miracles, but to a divine arid excel- lent end, (for the laws of nature are thine own laws, and thou exceedesMhem not but upon great cause) we most humbly beseech thee to prosper this great sign, and to give us the interpretation and use of it in mercy ; which thou dost in some part secretly promise, by sending it unto us. When he had made his prayer, he presently found the boat he was in moveable and unbound ; whereas all the rest remained still fast ; and taking that for an assurance of leave to approach, he caused the boat to be softly, and with silence rowed towards the pillar. But ere he came near it, the pillar and cross of light brake up, and cast itself abroad, as it were into a firmament of many ' 137 stars; which also vanished soon after, and there was nothing left to be seen, but a small ark or chest of cedar> dry, and not wet at all with water, though it swam. And in the fore-end of it which was toward him, grew a small green branch of palm ; and when the wise man had taken it with all reverence into his boat, it opened of itself, and there were found in it a book and a letter ; both written in fine parchment, and wrapped in sindons of linen. The book contained all the canonical books of the old and new Testament, according as you have them ; (for we know well what the churches with you receive;) and the Apocalypse itself; and some other books of the new Testament, which were not at that time written, were never- theless in the book : And for the letter, it was in these words: " I Bartholomew, a servant of the Highest, and Apostle of Jesus Christ, was warned by an angel that appeared to me in a vision of glory, that I should commit this ark to the floods of the sea. Therefore I do testify and declare, unto that peo- ple where God shall ordairj this ark to come to land, that in the same day is come unto them sal- vation, and peace, and good-will, from the Father, and from the Lord Jesus." There was also in both these writings, as well the book, as the letter, wrought a great miracle. 138 conform to that of the Apostles in the original gift of tongues. For there being at that time in this land, Hebrews, Persians, and Indians, besides the natives, every one read upon the book and letter, as if they had been written in his own language. And thus was this land saved from infidelity, (as the remain of the old world was from water) by an ark, through the apostolical and miraculous evan- gelism of St. Bartholomew. And here he paused, and a messenger came, and called him forth from us. So this was all that passed in that conference. The next day the same governor came again to us immediately after dinner, and excused himself, saying ; that the day before he was called from us somewhat abruptly, but now he would make us amends, and spend time with us, if we held his company and conference agreeable : we answered ; that we held it so agreeable and pleasing to us, as we both forgot dangers past, and fears to come, for the time we heard him speak ; and that we thought an hour spent with him, w?s worth years of our former life. He bowed himself a little to us, and after we were set again, he said ; well, the questions are on your part. One of our number said, after a little pause; that there was a matter we were no less desirous to know, than fearful to ask, lest we might presume too far. But en- couraged hy his rare humanity towards us, (tha 139 could scarce think ourselves strangers, being his vowed and professed servants) we would take the hardiness to propound it : humbly beseeching him, if he thought it not fit to be answered, that he would pardon it, though he rejected it. We said ; w r e well observed those his words, which he for- merly spake, that this happy island where we now stood, was known to few, and yet knew most of the nations of the world, which we found to be true, considering they had the languages of Europe, and knew much of our state and business ; and yet we in Europe, (notwithstanding all the remote discoveries and navigations of this last age) never heard any of the least inkling or glimpse of this island. This we found wonderful strange; for that all nations have interknowledge one of another, either by voyage into foreign parts, or by strangers that come to them : and though the traveller into a foreign country, doth commonly know more by the eye, than he that stayeth at home can by re- lation of the traveller; yet both ways suffice to make a mutual knowledge, in some degree, on both parts. But for this island, we never heard tell of any ship of theirs, that had been seen to ar- rive upon any shore of Europe ; no, nor of either the East or West Indies, nor yet of any ship of any other part of the world, that had made return from them. And yet the marvel rested not in 140 this. For the situation of it, (as his lordship said) in the secret conclave of such a vast sea might cause it. But then, that they should have know- ledge of the languages, books, affairs, of those that lie such a distance from them, it was a thing we could not tell what to make of; for that it seemed to us a condition and propriety of divine powers and beings, to be hidden and unseen to others, and yet to have others open, and as in a light to them. At this speech the governor gaye a gracious smile, and said; that we did well to ask pardon for this question we now asked ; for that it imported, as if we thought this land a land of magi- cians, that sent forth spirits of the air into all parts, to bring them news and intelligence of other countries. It was answered by us all, in all possi- ble humbleness, but yet with a countenance taking knowledge, that we knew that he spake it but merrily. That we were apt enough to think there was something supernatural in this island, but yet rather as angelical than magical. But to let his lordship know truly, what it was that made us tender and doubtful to ask this question, it was not any such conceit, but because we remembered, he had given a touch in his former speech, that this land had laws of secrecy touching strangers. To this he said ; you remember it aright ; and there- Tore in that I shall say to you, I must reserve some 141 particulars, which it is not lawful for me to reveal ; but there will be enough left to give you satis- faction. You shall understand (that which perhaps you will scarce think credible) that about three thou- sand years ago, or somewhat more, the navigation of the world (especially for remote voyages) was greater than at this day. Do not think with your- selves, that I know not how r much it is increased with you within these threescore years : I know it well ; and yet I say greater then than now : whe- ther it was, that the example of the ark, that saved the remnant of men from the universal deluge, gave men confidence to adventure upon the waters, or what it was, but such is the truth. The Phoeni- cians, and especially the Tyrians, had great fleets. So had the Carthaginians their colony, which is yet farther west. Toward the east, the shipping of iEgypt, and of Palestine, was likewise great. China also, and the great Atlantis, (that you call^ America) which have now but junks and canoes, abounded then in tall ships. This island (as ap- peareth by faithful registers of those times) had then fifteen hundred strong ships, of great content. Of all this, there is with you sparing memory, or none ; but we have large knowledge thereof. At that time, this land w r as known and frequented by the ships and vessels of all the nations before- 142 named. And (as it cometh to pass) they had many times men of other countries, that were no sailors, that came with them ; as Persians, Chal- daeans, Arabians ; so as almost all nations of might and fame resorted hither ; of whom we have some stirps and little tribes with us at this day. And for our own ships, they went sundry voyages, as well to your streights, which you call the pillars of Hercules, as to other parts in the Atlantic and Mediterranean seas; as to Peguin, (which is the same with Cambalaine) and Quinzy, upon the oriental seas, as far as to the borders of the east Tartary. At the same time, and an age after, or more, the inhabitants of the great Atlantis did flourish. For though the narration and description which is made by a great man with you, that the descendants of Neptune planted there ; and of the magnificent temple, palace, city and hill; and the manifold streams of goodly navigable rivers, which (as so many chains) environed the same sciteand temple; and the several degrees of ascent, whereby men did climb up to the same, as if it had been a scala coeli ; be all poetical and fabulous : yet so much is true, that the said country of Atlantis, as well that of Peru then called Coya, as that of Mexico then named Tyrambel, were mighty and proud kingdoms, in arms, shipping, and riches: so mighty, 143 as at one time (or at least within the space of ten years) they both made two great expeditions ; they ofTyrambel, through the Atlantic to the Mediter- ranean Sea; and they of Coya, through the South Sea upon this our island : and for the former of these which was into Europe, the same author amongst you, (as it seemeth) had some relation from the ^Egyptian priest, whom he citeth. For assuredly, such a thing there was. But whether it were the ancient Athenians that had the glory of the repulse, and resistance of those forces, I can say nothing: But certain it is, there never came back either ship, or man, from that voyage. Nei- ther had the other voyage of those of Coya upon us, had better fortune, if they had not met with enemies of greater clemency. For the king of this island, (by name Altabin,) a wise man, and a great warrior ; knowing well both his own strength, and that of his enemies ; handled the matter so, as he cut off their land forces from their ships, and en- toiled both their navy, and their camp, with a greater power than theirs, both by sea and land; and compelled them to render themselves without striking a stroke : and after they were at his mercy, contenting himself only with their oath, that they should no more bear arms against him, dismissed them all in safety. But the divine revenge over- took not long after those proud enterprizers. For 144 within less than the space of one hundred years, the great Atlantis was utterly lost and destroyed : not by a great earthquake, as your man saith, (for that whole tract is little subject to earthquakes;) but by a particular deluge, or inundation : those countries having, at this day, far greater rivers, and far higher mountains, to pour down waters, than any part of the old world. But it is true, that the same inundation was not deep ; not past forty foot, in most places, from the ground : so that, although it destroyed man and beast generally, yet some ' few wild inhabitants of the woods escaped. Birds also were saved by flying to the high trees and woods. For as for men, although they had build- ings in many places, higher than the depth of the water ; yet that inundation, though it were shallow, had a long continuance ; whereby they of the vale, that were not drowned, perished for want of food, and other things necessary. So as marvel you not at the thin population of America, nor at the rude- ness and ignorance of the people ; for you must account your inhabitants of America as a young people ; younger a thousand years at the least, than the rest of the world : for that there was so much time between the universal flood, and their particular inundation. For the poor remnant of human seed, which remained in their mountains, peopled their country again slowly, by little and 145 little ; and being simple and a savage people, (not like Noah and his sons, which was the chief family of the earth) they were not able to leave letters, arts, and civility to their posterity ; and having likewise in their mountainous habitations been used, (in respect of the extreme cold of those regions,) to cloath themselves with the skins of tygers, bears, and great hairy goats, that they have in those parts; when after they came down into the valley, and found the intolerable heats which are there, and knew no means of lighter apparel, they were forced to begin the custom of going naked, which continueth at this day. Only they take great pride and delight in the feathers of birds ; and this also they took from those their ancestors of the mountains, who were invited unto it, by the infinite flights of birds, that came up to the high grounds, while the waters stood below. So you see, by this main accident of time, we lost our traffic with the Americans, with whom, of all others, in regard they lay nearest to us, we had most commerce. As for the other parts of the world, it is most manifest, that in the ages follow- ing, (whether it were in respect of wars, or by a natural revolution of time), navigation did every where greatly decay ; and especially far voyages, (the rather by the use of gallies, and such vessels as could hardly brook the ocean) were altogether 146 left and omitted. So then, that part of entercourse which could be from other nations to sail to us, you see how it hath long since ceased ; except it were by some rare accident, as this of yours. But now of the cessation of that other part of entercourse, which might be by our sailing to other nations, I must yield you some other cause. For I cannot say, (if I shall say truly) but our shipping, for num- ber, strength, mariners, pilots, and all things that appertain to navigation, is as great as ever : and therefore why we should sit at home, I shall now give you an account by itself; and it will draw nearer, to give you satisfaction, to your principal question. There reigned in this island, about nineteen hundred years ago, a king, whose memory of all others we most adore ; not superstitiously, but as a divine instrument, though a mortal man; his name was Solomona: and we esteem him as the law- giver of our nation. This king had a large heart, inscrutable for good, and was wholly bent to make his kingdom and people happy. He therefore taking into consideration, how sufficient and sub- stantive this land was, to maintain itself without any aid (at all) of the foreigner, being five thousand six hundred mile in circuit, and of rare fertility of soil in the greatest part thereof; and finding also the shipping of this country might be plentifully set on 147 work, both by fishing, and by transportations from port to port, and likewise by sailing unto some small islands that are not far from us, and are un- der the crown and laws of this state ; and recal- ling into his memory, the happy and flourishing estate wherein this land then was ; so as it might be a thousand ways altered to the worse, but scarce any one way to the better ; though nothing wanted to his noble and heroical intentions, but only (as far as human foresight might reach) to give per- petuity to that, which was in his time so happily established. Therefore amongst his other funda- mental laws of this kingdom, he did ordain the in- terdicts and prohibitions, which we have touching entrance of strangers; which at that time (though it was after the calamity of America) was frequent ; doubting novelties, and commixture of manners. It is true, the like law, against the admission of strangers without licence, is an ancient law in the kingdom of China, and yet continued in use: But there it is a poor thing ; and hath made them a curious, ignorant, fearful, foolish nation. But our law -giver made his law of another temper. For first, he hath preserved all points of humanity, in talcing order, and making provision for the re- lief of strangers distressed, whereof you have tasted. At which speech (as reason was) we all rose up, and bowed ourselves. He went on. That king 148 also still desiring to join humanity and policy to- gether; and thinking it against humanity, to de- lain strangers here against their wills ; and against policy that they should return, and discover their knowledge of this estate, he took this course : he did ordain, that of the strangers that should be per- mitted to land, as may (at all times) might depart as would ; but as many as would stay, should have very good conditions, and means to live, from the state. Wherein he saw so far, that now in so many ages since the prohibition, we have memory, not of one ship that ever returned, and but of thirteen persons only, at several times, that chose to return in our bottoms. What those few that returned, may have reported abroad, I know not : But you must think, whatsoever they have said, could be taken where they came but for a dream. Now for our travelling from hence into parts abroad, our law-giver thought fit altogether to re- strain it. So is it not in China. For the Chinese sail where they will, or can : which sheweth, that their law of keeping out strangers, is a law of pusil- lanimity and fear. But this restraint of ours hath one only exception, which is admirable ; preserving the good which cometh by communicating wifli strangers, and avoiding the hurt; and I will now open it to you. And here I shall seem a little to digress^ but you will by and by find it pertinent. 149 Ye shall understand, (my dear friends,) that amongst the excellent acts of that king, one above all hath the pre-eminence. It was the erection, and institution of an order, or society, which we call Solomon's house ; the noblest foundation (as we think) that ever was upon the earth ; and the lanthorn of this kingdom. It is dedicated to the study of the works and creatures of God. Some think it beareth the founder's name a little cor- rupted, as if it should be Solomona's house. But the records write it, as it is spoken. So as I take it to be denominate of the king of the Hebrews, which is famous with you, and no stranger to us; for we have some parts of his works, which with you are lost ; namely, that natural history which he wrote of all plants, from the cedar of Libanus, to the moss that growth out of the wall ; and of all things that have life and motion. This maketh me think, that our king finding himself to symbolize in many things with that king of the Hebrews (which lived many years before him) honoured him with the title of this foundation. And I am the rather induced to be of this opinion, for that I find in ancient records, this order or society is sometimes called Solomon's house, and sometimes the college of the six days works ; whereby I am satisfied, that our excellent king had learned from the Hebrews, that God had created the world, and 150 ;.; all that therein is, within six days ; and therefore he instituting that house for the finding out of the true nature of all things, (whereby God might have the more glory in the workmanship of them, and men the more fruit in the use of them,) did give it also that second name. But now to come to our present purpose. When the king had forbidden, to all his people, navigation into any part, that was not under his crown, he made nevertheless this ordinance ; that every twelve years there should be set forth, out of this kingdom, two ships appointed to several voyages ; that in either of these ships there should be a mission of three of the fellows, or brethren of Solomon's house ; whose errand was only to give us knowledge of the affairs and state of those countries to which they were designed; and especially of the sciences, arts, manufactures, and inventions of all the world ; and withal to bring unto us, books, instruments, and patterns, in every kind : that the ships, after they had landed the brethren, should return; and that the brethren should stay abroad till the new mission. The ships are not otherwise fraught, than with store of victuals, and good quantity of treasure to remain with the brethren, for the buying of such things, and rewarding of such persons, as they should think fit. Now for me to tell you how the vulgar sort of mariners are contained from being discovered 151 at land ; and how they that must be put on shore for any time, colour themselves under the names of other nations ; and to what places these voyages have been designed ; and what places of rendez- vous are appointed for the new missions ; and the like circumstances of the practice ; I may not do it : neither is it much to your desire. But thus you see we maintain a trade, not for gold, silver, or jewels ; nor for silks ; nor for spices ; nor any other commodity of matter ; but only for God's first creature, which was light : to have light (I say) of the growth of all parts of the world. And when he had said this, he was silent ; and so were we all. For indeed we were all astonished to hear so strange things so probably told. And he perceiving that we were willing to say somewhat, but had it not ready, in great courtesy took us off, and des- cended to ask us questions of our voyage and for- tunes, and in the end concluded, that we might do well to think with ourselves, what time of stay we would demand of the state ; and bade us not to scant ourselves ; for he would procure such time as we desired. Whereupon we all rose up and presented ourselves to kiss the skirt of his tippet, but he would not suffer us; and so took his leave. But when it came once amongst our people, that the state used to offer conditions to strangers that would stay, we had work enough to get any of our 152 men to look to our ship ; and to keep them from going presently to the governor to crave conditions. But with much ado we refrained them, till we might agree what course to take, We took ourselves now for free men, seeing there was no danger of our utter perdition ; and lived most joyfully, going abroad, and seeing what was to be seen in the city and places adjacent, within our tedder; and obtaining acquaintance with many of the city, not of the meanest quality ; at whose hands we found such humanity, and such a freedom and desire to take strangers as it were into their bosom, as was enough to make us forget all that was dear to us in our own countries : and continually we met with many things, right worthy of observation and relation ; as indeed, if there be a mirror in the world worthy to hold mens eyes, it is that country. One day there were two of our company bidden to a feast of the family, as they call it. A most natural, pious, and reverend custom it is, shewing that nation to be compounded of all goodness. This is the manner of it. It is granted to any man, that shall live to see thirty persons de- scended of his body alive together, and all above three years old, to make this feast, which is done at the cost of the state. The father of the family, whom they call the Tirsan, two days before the feast, taketh to him three of such friends as he 153 liketh to chuse ; and is assisted also by the gover- nor of the city, or place, where the feast is cele- brated ; and all the persons of the family of both sexes are summoned to attend. These two days the Tirsan sitteth in consultation, concerning the good estate of the family. There, if there be any discord or suits between any of the family, they are compounded and appeased. There, if any of the family be distressed or decayed, order is taken for their relief, and competent means to live. There, if any be subject to vice, or take ill courses, they are reproved and censured. So likewise direction is given touching marriages, and the courses of life which any of them should take, with divers other the like orders and advices. The governor assisteth, to the end to put in execution, by his public authority, the decrees and orders of the Tirsan, if they should be disobeyed ; though that seldom needeth ; such reverence and obe- dience they give to the order of nature. The Tirsan doth also then, ever chuse one man from amongst his sons, to live in the house with him : who is called ever after, the son of the vine. The reason will hereafter appear. On the feast-day, the father, or Tirsan, cometh forth after divine service into a large room where the feast is cele- brated ; which room hath an half pace at the upper end. Against the wall, in the middle of the half 154 pace, is a chair placed for him, with a table and carpet before it. Over the chair is a state made round or oval, and it is of ivy ; an ivy somewhat whiter than ours, like the leaf of a silver asp, but more shining ; for it is green all winter. And the state is curiously wrought with silver and silk of divers colours, broiding or binding in the ivy ; and is ever of the work of some of the daughters of the family ; and veiled over at the top with a fine net of silk and silver. But the substance of it is true ivy ; whereof, after it is taken down, the friends of the family are desirous to have some leaf or sprig to keep. The Tirsan cometh forth with all his generation or lineage, the males before him, and the females following him ; and if there be a mo- ther, from whose body the whole lineage is de- scended, there is a traverse placed in a loft above on the right hand of the chair, with a privy door, and a carved window of glass, leaded with gold and blue ; where she sitteth, but is not seen. When the Tirsan is come forth, he sitteth down in the chair ; and all the lineage place themselves against the wall, both at his back, and upon the return of the half pace, in order of their years, without dif- ference of sex, and stand upon their feet. When he is set, the room being always full of company, but well kept, and without disorder ; after some pause there cometh in from the lower end of the 155 room a taratan, (which is as much as an herald) and on either side of him two young lads ; whereof one carrieth a scroll of their shining yellow parch- ment; and the other a cluster of grapes of gold, with a long foot or stalk. The herald and children arecloathed with mantles of sea-water green sattin ; but the herald's mantle is streamed with gold, and hath a train. Then the herald with three courte- sies, or rather inclinations, cometh up as far as the half pace ; and there first taketh into his hand the scroll. This scroll is the king's charter, containing gift of revenue, and many privileges, exemptions, and points of honour, granted to the father of the family ; and it is ever styled and directed, to such an one, our well-beloved friend and creditor : which is a title proper only to this case. For they say, the king is debtor to no man, but for propaga- tion of his subjects : the seal set to the king's char- ter, is the king's image, imbossed or moulded in gold ; and though such charters be expedited of course, and as of right, yet they are varied by dis- cretion, according to the number and dignity of the family. This charter the herald readeth aloud ; and while it is read, the father or Tirsan standeth up, supported by two of his sons, such as he chuseth. Then the herald mounteth the half pace, and deli- vereth the charter into his hand : and with that there is an acclamation by all that are present, m 156 their language, which is thus much ; happy are the people of Bensalem. Then the herald taketh into his hand from the other child, the cluster of grapes, which is of gold ; both the stalk and the grapes. But the grapes are daintily enamelled ; and if the males of the family be the greater number, the grapes are enamelled purple, with a little sun set on the top ; if the females, then they are enamelled into a greenish yellow, with a crescent on the top. The grapes are in number as many as there are descendants of the family. This golden cluster the herald delivereth also to the Tirsan ; who pre- sently delivereth it over to that son, that he had formerly chosen to be in the house with him : who beareth it before his father as an ensign of honour, when he goeth in public ever after ; and is there- upon called the son of the vine. After this cere- mony ended, the father or Tirsan retireth ; and after some time cometh forth again to dinner, where he sitteth alone under the state as before ; and none of his descendants sit with him, of what degree or dignity soever, except he happen to be of Solomon's house. He is served only by his own children, such as are male ; who perform unto him all ser- vice of the table upon the knee; and the women only stand about him, leaning against the wall. The room below his half pace, hath tables on the sides for the guests that are bidden ; who are 157 served with great and comely order ; and towards the end of dinner (which in the greatest feasts with them, lasteth never above an hoar and a half) there is an hymn sung, varied according to the in- vention of him that composeth it, (for they have excellent poesy ;) but the subject of it is (always) the praises of Adam, and Noah, and Abraham ; whereof the former two peopled the world, and the last was the father of the faithful: concluding ever with a thanksgiving for the nativity of our Saviour, in whose birth the births of all are only blessed. Dinner being done, the Tirsan retireth again ; and having withdrawn himself alone into a place, where he maketh some private prayers, he cometh forth the third time, to give the blessing ; with all his descendants, who stand about him as at the first. Then he calleth them forth by one and by one, by name, as he pleaseth, though seldom the order of age be inverted. The person that is called, (the table being before removed) kneeleth down before the chair, and the father layeth his hand upon his head, or her head, and giveth the blessing in these words: SonofBen- salem, (or daughter of Bensalem) thy father saith it ; the man by whom thou hast breath and life speaketh the word ; the blessing of the everlasting Father, the prince of peace, and the holy dove be upon thee, and make the days of thy pilgrimage 158 good and many. This he saith to every of them ; and that done, if there be any of his sons of emi- nent merit and virtue, (so they be not above two) he calleth for them again ; and saith, laying his arm over their shoulders, they standing ; Sons, it is well you are born, give God the praise, and per- severe to the end. And withal delivereth to either of them a jewel, made in the figure of an ear of wheat, which they ever after wear in the front of their turban, or hat. This done, they fall to music and dances, and other recreations, after their man- ner, for the rest of the day. This is the full order of that feast. By that time six or seven days were spent, I was fallen into straight acquaintance with a mer- chant of that city, whose name was Joabin, He was a Jew, and circumcised : for they have some few stirps of Jews yet remaining among them, whom they leave to their own religion : which they may the better do, because they are of a far dif- fering disposition from the Jews in other parts. For whereas they hate the name of Christ, and have a secret inbred rancour against the people amongst whom they live ; these (contrariwise) give unto our Saviour many high attributes, and love the nation of Bensalem extremely. Surely this man of whom I speak, would ever acknowledge that Christ was born of a virgin 5 and that he was more than a man ; 159 and he would tell how God made him ruler of the seraphims, which guard his throne ; and they call him also the milken way, and the Eiiah of the Messias ; and many other high names; which though they be inferior to his divine Majesty, yet they are far from the language of other Jews. And for the country of Bensalem, this man w r ould make no end of commending it: being desirous by tradition among the Jews there, to have it believed, that the people thereof were of the generations of Abraham, by another son, whom they call Nachoran ; and that Moses by a secret cabala, ordained the laws of Ben- salem which they now use ; and that when the Messias should come, and sit in his throne at Hi- erusalem, the king of Bensalem should sit at his feet, whereas other kings should keep a great dis- tance. But yet setting aside these Jewish dreams, the man was a wise man, and learned, and of great policy, and excellently seen in the laws and cus- toms of that nation. Amongst other discourses, one day I told him I was much affected with the relation I had from some of the company, of their custom in holding the feast of the family ; for that (methought) I had never heard of a solemnity, wherein nature did so much preside. And because propagation of families proceedeth from the nup- tial copulation, I desired to know of him, what laws and customs they had concerning marriage ; 160 and whether they kept marriage well ; and whe- ther they were tied to one wife r For that where population is so much affected, and such as with them it seemed to be, there is commonly permis- sion of plurality of wives. To this he said; you have reason for to commend that excellent institu- tion of the feast of the family; and indeed we have experience that those families that are parta- kers of the blessings of that feast, do flourish and prosper ever after in an extraordinary manner. But hear me now, and I will tell vou what I know. You shall understand, that there is not under the heavens so chaste a nation as this of Bensalern ; nor so free from pollution or foulness. It is the virgin of the world. I remember I have read in one of your European books, of an holy hermit amongst you, that desired to see the spirit of fornication; and there appeared to him a little foul ugly iEthiope : but if he had desired to see the spirit of chastity of Bensalern, it would have appeared to him in the likeness of a fair beautiful cherubim. For there is nothing amongst mortal men more fair and admira- ble, than the chaste minds of this people. Know therefore that with them there are no stews, no dissolute houses, no courtesans; nor any thing of that kind. Nay, they wonder (with detestation) at you in Europe, which permit such things. They say, ye have put marriage out of office : for mar- 161 riage is ordained a remedy for unlawful concupis- cence; and natural concupiscence seemeth as a spur to marriage. But when men have at hand a remedy more agreeable to their corrupt will, mar- riage is almost expulsed. And therefore there are with you seen infinite men that marry not, but chuse rather a libertine and impure single life, than to be yoked in marriage ; and many that do marry, marry late, when the prime and strength of their years is past. And when they do marry, what is marri- age to them but a very bargain ; wherein is sought alliance, or portion, or reputation, with some de- sire (almost indifferent) of issue ; and not the faith- ful nuptial union of man and wife, that was first instituted. Neither is it possible, that those that have cast away so basely so much of their strength, should greatly esteem children, (being of the same matter) as chaste men do. So likewise during mar- riage is the case much amended, as it ought to be if those things w r ere tolerated only for necessity : no, but they remain still as a very affront to marri- age. The haunting of those dissolute places, or resort to curtesans, are no more punished in mar- ried men than in batchelors. And the depraved custom of change, and the delight in meritricious embracements, (where sin is turned into art) mak- eth marriage a dull thing, and a kind of imposition or tax. They hear you defend these things, as M 162 done to avoid greater evils; as advoutries, deflour- ing of virgins, unnatural lust, and the like. But they say, this is a preposterous wisdom ; and they call it Lot's offer, who to save his guests from abusing, offered his daughters : nay, trrey say far~ ther, that there is little gained in this ; for that the same vices and appetites do still remain and abound; unlawful lust being like a furnace, that if you stop the flames altogether it will quench ; but if you give it any vent, it will rage ; as for masculine love, they have no touch of it ; and yet there are not so faithful and inviolate friendships in the world again as are there; and to speak generally, (as I said before) I have not read of any such chastity in any people as theirs. And their usual saying is, that whosoever is unchaste cannot reverence himself: and they say, that the reverence of a man's self, is, next to religion, the chiefest bridle of all vices. And when he had said this, the good Jew paused a little ; w T hereupon I far more willing to hear him speak on, than to speak myself; yet thinking it de- cent, that upon his pause of speech I should not be altogether silent, said only this ; that I would say to him, as the widow of Serepta said to Elias ; that he was come to bring to memory our sins ; and that I confess the righteousness of Bensalem, was greater than the righteousness of Europe. At which speech he bowed his head, and went on in this 163 manner : they have also many wise and excellent laws touching marriage. They allow no polyga- my. They have ordained that none do intermarry, or contract, until a month be past from their first interview. Marriage without consent of parents they do not make void, but they mulct it in the in- heritors : for the children of such marriages are not admitted to inherit above a third part of their pa- rents inheritance. I have read in a book of one of your men, of a feigned commonwealth, where the married couple are permitted, before they con- tract to see one another naked. This they dislike; for they think it a scorn to give a refusal after so fa- miliar a knowledge : but because of many hidden defects in men and womens bodies, they have a more civil way : for they have near every town a couple of pools, (which they call Adam and Eve's pools) where it is permitted to one of the friends of the man, and another of the friends of the woman, to see them severally bathe naked. And as we were thus in conference, there came one that seemed to be a messenger, in a rich huke, that spake with the Jew : whereupon he turned to me and said ; you will pardon me, for I am com- manded away in haste. The next morning he came to me again joyful, as it seemed, and said ; there is word come to the governor of the city that one of the fathers of Solomon's house will be 16* here this day seven-night : we have seen none of them this dozen years. His coming is in state ; but the cause of his coming is secret. I will pro- vide you, and your fellows, of a good standing to see his entry. I thanked him, and told him, I was most glad of the news. The day being come, he made his entry. He was a man of middle stature and age, comely of person, and had an aspect as if he pitied men. He was cloathed in a robe of fine black cloath, with wide sleeves and a cape. His under garment was of excellent white linen down to the foot, girt with a girdle of the same ; and a sindon or tippet of the same about his neck. He had gloves that were curious, and set with stone ; and shoes of peach-coloured velvet. His neck was bare to the shoulders. His hat was like a helmet, or Spanish Montera ; and his locks curled below it decently : they were of colour brown. His beard was cut round, and of the same colour with his hair somewhat lighter. He was carried in a rich chariot without wheels, litter- wise, with two horses at either end, richly trapped in blue velvet embroidered ; and two footmen on each side in the like attire. The chariot was all of cedar, gilt and adorned with crystal; save that the fore-end had pannels of saphires, set in borders of gold, and the hinder-end the like of emeralds of the Peru colour. There was also a sun of gold, 165 radiant upon the top, in the midst ; and on the top before a small cherub of gold, with wings dis- played. The chariot was covered with cloth of gold tissued upou blue. He had before him fifty- attendants, young men all, in white sattin loose coats to the mid -leg, and stockings of white silk; and shoes of blue velvet; and hats of blue velvet; with fine plume of divers colours, set round like hat-bands. Next before the chariot went two men bare-headed, in linen garments down to the foot, girt, and shoes of blue velvet, who carried the one a crosier, the other a pastoral staff, like a sheep-hook; neither of them of metal, but the crosier of balm wood, the pastoral staff of cedar. Horsemen he had none, neither before nor behind his chariot: as it seemeth, to avoid all tumult and trouble. Behind his chariot went all the officers and principals of the companies of the city. He sat alone, upon cushions of a kind of excellent plush, blue ; and under his foot curious carpets of silk of divers colours, like the Persian, but far finer. He held up his bare hand as he went, as blessing the people, but in silence. The street was wonderfully well kept ; so that there was never any army had their men stand in better battle-array, than the people stood. The windows likewise were not crouded, but every one stood in them as if they had been placed. When the shew was 166 past, the Jew said to me ; I shall not be able to at- tend you as I would, in regard of some charge the city hath laid upon me, for the entertaining of this greatjperson. Three days after the Jew came to me again, and said : Ye are happy men ; for the father of Solomon's house taketh knowledge of your being here, and commanded me to tell you, that he will admit all your company to his presence, and have private conference with one of you that ye shall chuse : and for this hath appointed the next day after to-morrow. And because he meaneth to give you his blessing, he hath appointed it in the forenoon. We came at our day and hour, and I was chosen by my fellows for the pri- vate access. We found him in a fair chamber richly hanged, and carpeted under foot, -without any degrees to the state ; he was set upon a low throne richly adorned, and a rich cloth of state over his head, of blue sattin embroidered. He was alone, save that he had two pages of honour, on either hand, one finely attired in white. His under garments were the like that we saw him wear in the chariot ; but instead of his gown, he had on him a mantle with a cap, of the same fine black, fastened about him. When we came in, as we were taught, we bowed low at our first en- trance ; and when we were come near his chair, he stood up, holding forth his hand ungloved, and 161 in posture of blessing ; and we every one of us stooped down, and kissed the hem of his tippet. That done, the rest departed, and I remained. Then he warned the pages forth of the room, and caused me to sit down beside him, and spake to me thus in the Spanish tongue. God bless thee, my son ; I will give thee the greatest jewel I have. For I will impart unto thee, for the love of God and men, a relation of the true state of Solomon's house. Son, to make you know the true state of Solomon's house, I will keep this order. First, I will set forth unto you the end of our foundation. Secondly, the prepa- rations and instruments we have for our works. Thirdly, the several employments and functions whereto our fellows are assigned. And fourthly, the ordinances and rites which we observe. The end of our foundation is the knowledge of causes, and secret motions of things ; and the en- larging of the bounds of human empire, to the ef- fecting of all things possible. The preparations and instruments are these : We have large and deep caves of several depths : the deepest are sunk six hundred fathom ; and some of them are digged and made under great hills and mountains : so that if you reckon together the depth of the hill, and the depth of the cave, they are (some of them) above three miles deep. For we 168 find that the depth of an hill, and the depth of a cave from the flat, is the same thing ; both remote alike from the sun and heaven's beams, and from the open air. These caves we call the lower region. And we use them for all coagulations, indurations, refrigerations, and conservations, of bodies. We use them likewise for the imitation of natural mines : and the producing also of new artificial metals, by compositions and materials which we use and lay there for many years. We use them also sometimes (which may seem strange) for cur- ing of some diseases, and for prolongation of life, in some hermits that chuse to live there, well ac- commodated of all things necessary, and indeed live very long ; by whom also we learn many things. We have burials in several earths, where we put divers cements, as the Chinese do their por- celane. But we have them in greater variety, and some of them more fine. We also have great variety of composts, and soils, for the making of the earth fruitful. We have high towers ; the highest about half a mile in height ; and some of them likewise set upon high mountains : so that the vantage of the hill with the tower, is in the highest of them three miles at least. And these places we call the upper region ; accounting the air between the high places and the low, as a middle region. We use these towers, 169 according to their several heights and situations, for insolation, refrigeration, conservation, and for the view of divers meteors; as winds, rain, snow, hail, and some of the fiery meteors also. And upon them, in some places, are dwellings of hermits, whom we visit sometimes, and instruct what to observe. We have great lakes both salt and fresh, whereof we have use for the fish and fowl. We use them also for burials of some natural bodies : for we find a difference in things buried in earth, or in air below the earth ; and things buried in water. We have also pools, of which some do strain fresh water out of salt ; and others by art do turn fresh water into salt. We have also some rocks in the midst of the sea ; and some bays upon the shore for some works, wherein is required the air and vapour of the sea. We have likewise violent streams and cataracts, which serve us for many motions : and likewise engines for multiplying and enforcing of winds, set also on going divers motions. We have also a number of artificial wells and fountains, made in imitation of the natural sources and baths; as tincted upon vitriol, sulphur, steel, brass, lead, nitre, and other minerals. And again, we have little wells for infusions of many things, where the waters take the virtue quicker and better, than in vessels, or basins. And amongst 170 them we have a water, which we call water of paradise, being, by that we do to it, made very sovereign for health, and prolongation of life. We have also great and spacious houses, where we imitate and demonstrate meteors; as snow, hail, rain, some artificial rains of bodies, and not of water, thunders, lightnings ; also generations of bodies in air ; as frogs, flies, and divers others. We have also certain chambers, which we call chambers of health, where we qualify the air as we think good and proper for the cure of divers diseases, and preservation of health. We have also fair and large baths, of several mixtures, for the cure of diseases, and the restoring of man's body from arefaction : and others, for the confirming of it in strength of sinews, vital parts, and the very juice and substance of the body. We have also large and various orchards and gardens, wherein we do not so much respect beauty, as variety of ground and soil, proper for divers trees and herbs : and some very spacious, where trees and berries are set, whereof we make divers kinds of drinks, besides the vineyards. In these we practise likewise all conclusions of graft- ing and inoculating, as well of wild trees as fruit- trees, which produceth many effects. And we make (by art) in the same orchards and gardens. 171 trees and flowers, to come earlier or later than their seasons; and to come up and bear more speedily, than by their natural course they do. We make them also by art greater much than their nature ; and their fruit greater, and sweeter, and of differing taste, smell, colour, and figure, from their nature. And many of them we so order, as that they become of medicinal use. We have also means to make divers plants rise by mixtures of earths without seeds ; and likewise to make divers new plants, differing from the vulgar; and to make one tree or plant turn into another. We have also parks and enclosures of all sorts of beasts and birds, which we use not only for view or rareness, but likewise for dissections and trials ; that thereby may take light, what may be wrought upon the body of man. Wherein we find many strange effects; as continuing life in them, though divers parts, which you account vital ^ be perished, and taken forth ; resuscitating of some that seem dead in appearance ; and the like. We try also all poisons, and other medicines upon them, as well of chirurgery as physic. By art likewise, we make them greater or taller, than their kind is ; and contrariwise dwarf them, and stay their growth : we make them more fruitful and bearing than their kind is ; and contrariwise 172 barren, and not generative. Also we make them differ in colour, shape, activity, many ways. We find means to make commixtures and copulations of divers kinds, which have produced many new kinds, and them not barren, as the general opinion is. We make a number of kinds of serpents, worms, flies, fishes, of putrefaction ; whereof some are advanced (in effect) to be perfect creatures, like beasts, or birds ; and have sexes, and do propa- gate. Neither do we this by chance, but we know before-hand, of what matter and commixture, what kind of those creatures, will arise. We have also particular pools, where we make trials upon fishes, as we have said before of beasts and birds. We have also places for breed and generation of those kinds of worms, and flies, which are of special use ; such as are with you your silk-worms and bees. I will not hold you long with recounting of our brew-houses, bake-houses and kitchens, where are made divers drinks, breads and meats, rare, and of special effects. Wines we have of grapes ; and drinks of other juice, of fruits, of grains, and roots ; and of mixtures with honey, sugar, manna, and fruits dried and decocted. Also of the tears or wounding of trees, and of the pulp of canes. And these drinks are of several ages, some to the age 173 or last of forty years. We have drinks also brewed with several herbs, and roots, and spices; yea, with several fleshes, and white-meats; whereof some of the drinks are such as are in effect meat and drink both ; so that divers, especially in age, do desire to live with them, with little or no meat, or bread. And above all, we strive to have drinks of extreme thin parts ; to insinuate into the body, and yet without all biting, sharpness, or fretting ; insomuch as some of them put upon the back of your hand, will, with a little stay, pass through to the palm, and yet taste mild to the mouth. We have also waters which we ripen into that fashion, as they become nourishing ; so that they are indeed excellent drink ; and many will use no other. Breads we have of several grains, roots, and kernels; yea, and some of flesh, and fish, dried ; with divers kinds of leavings and seasonings : so that some do extremely move ap- petites ; some do nourish so, as divers do live of them, without any other meat ; who live very long. So for meats, we have some of them so beaten, and made tender, and mortified, yet with- out corrupting, as a weak heat of the stomach will turn them into good chyius, as well as a strong heat would meat otherwise prepared. We have some meats also, and breads, and drinks, which 174 taken by men, enable them to fast long after ; and some other, that used make the very flesh of men's bodies sensibly more hard and tough ; and their strength far greater, than otherwise it would be. We have dispensatories, or shops of medicines ; wherein you may easily think, if we have such variety of plants and living creatures, more than you have in Europe, (for we know what you have,) the simples, drugs, and ingredients of me- dicines, must likewise be in so much the greater variety. We have them likewise of divers ages, and long fermentations. And for their prepara- tions, we have not only all manner of exquisite distillations and separations, and especially by gentle heats and percolations through divers strain- ers, yea, and substances ; but also exact forms of composition, whereby they incorporate almost as they were natural simples. We have also divers mechanical arts, which you have not ; and stuffs made by them ; as papers, linen, silks, tissues; dainty works of feathers of wonderful lustre ; excellent dyes, and many others : and shops likewise as well for such as are not brought into vulgar use amongst us, as for those that are. For you must know, that of the things before recited, many of them are grown into use throughout the kingdom ; but yet, if they did flow 175 from our intention, we have of them also for patterns and principals. We have also furnaces of great diversities, and that keep great diversity of heats ; fierce and quick ; strong and constant ; soft and mild ; blown, quiet, dry, moist ; and the like. But above all, We have heats in imitation of the sun's and hea- venly bodies' heat, that pass divers inequalities, and (as it were) orbs, progresses and returns, whereby we produce admirable effects. Besides, we have heats of dungs, and of bellies and maws of living creatures, and of their bloods and bodies ; and of hays and herbs laid up moist ; of lime un- quenched ; and such like. Instruments also which generate heat only by motion. And farther, places for strong insolations: and again, places under the earth, which by nature, or art, yield heat. These divers heats we use, as the nature of the operation, which we intend, requireth. We have also perspective houses, where we make demonstrations of all lights and radiations ; and of all colours; and out of things uncoloured and transparent, we can represent unto you ail several colours ; not in rain-bows, (as it is in gems and prisms,) but of themselves single. We re- present also all multiplications of light, which we carry to great distance ; and make so sharp, as to discern small points and lines : also all colorations 17$ of lights: all delusions and deceits of the sight, in figures, magnitudes, motions, colours; all de- monstrations of shadows. We find also divers means yet unknown to you producing of light, originally from divers bodies. We procure means of seeing ob- jects afar oflf ; as in the heavens and remote places ; and represent things near as far off; and things far off as near; making feigned distances. We have also helps for the sight, far above spectacles and glasses in use. We have also glasses and means, to see small and minute bodies, perfectly and distinctly; as the shapes and colours of small flies and worms, grains and flaws in gems, which cannot otherwise be seen; observations in urine and blood, not other- wise to be seen. We make artificial rain-bows, halos, and circles about light. We represent also all manner of reflections, refractions and multipli- cations of visual beams of objects. We have also precious stones of all kinds, many of them of great beauty, and to you unknown ; crystals likewise ; and glasses of divers kinds ; and amongst them some of metals vitrificated, and other materials, besides those of which you make glass. Also a number of fossils, and imperfect minerals, which you have not. Likewise load-stones of pro- digious virtue; and other rare stones, both natural and artificial. We have also sound-houses, where we practise 1 177 and demonstrate all sounds, and their generation, We have harmonies which you have not, of quar- ter-sounds, and lesser slides of sounds. Divers in- struments of music likewise to you unknown, and some sweeter than any you have*, together with bells and rings that are dainty and sweet. We represent small sounds as great and deep : likewise great sounds, extenuate and sharp ; we make divers tremblings and w 7 arblings of sounds, w 7 hich in their original are entire. We represent and imitate all articulate sounds and letters, and the voices and notes of beasts and birds. We have certain helps, which set to the ear do further the hearing greatly. We have also divers strange and artificial echoes, reflecting the voice many times, and as it were tossing it: and some that give back the voice louder than it came, some shriller, and some deeper ; yea, some rendering the voice, differing in the letters or articulate sound, from that they re- ceive. We have also means to convey sounds in trunks and pipes, in strange lines and distances. We have also perfume houses, wherewith we join also practices of taste. We multiply smells, which may seem strange. We imitate smells, making all smells to breathe out of other mixtures than those that give them. We make divers imi- tations of taste likewise, so that they will deceive any man's taste. And in this house we contain N 178 also a comfiture house ; where we make all sweet- meats, dry and moist ; and divers pleasant wines, milks, broths, and sallads, far in greater variety than you have. We have also engine-houses, where are pre- pared engines and instruments for all sorts of mo- tions. There we imitate and practice to make swifter motions than any you have, either out of your muskets, or any engine that you have ; and to make them and multiply them more easily, and with small force, by wheels, and other means : and to make them stronger and more violent than yours are ; exceeding your greatest cannons and basilisks. We represent also ordnance and in- struments of war, and engines of all kinds: and likewise new mixtures and compositions of gun- powper, wild-fires burning in water and unquench- able. Also fire-works of all variety both for plea- sure and use. We imitate also flights of birds ; we have some degrees of flying in the air ; we have ships and boats for going under water, and brooking of seas ; also swimming-girdles and sup- porters. We have divers curious clocks, and other like motions of return, and some perpetual motions : we imitate also motions of living creatures, by images of men, beasts, birds, fishes, and serpents ; we have also a great number of other various mo- tions, strange for equality, fineness, and subtilty. 179 We have also a mathematical house, where are represented all instruments, as well of geometry as astronomy, exquisitely made. • We have also houses of deceits of the senses ; where we represent all manner of feats of juggling, false apparitions, impostures, and illusions; and their fallacies. And surely you will easily believe, that we that have so many things truly natural, which induce admiration, could in a world of par- ticulars deceive the senses, if we would disguise those things, and labour to make them seem more miraculous. But we do hate all impostures and lyes ; insomuch as we have severely forbidden it to all our fellows, under pain of ignominy and fines, that they do not shew any natural work or thing, adorned or swelling ; but only pure as it is, and without all affectation of strangeness. These are (my son) the riches of Solomon's house. For the several employments and offices of our fellows : we have twelve that sail into foreign countries, under the names of other nations, (for our own we conceal ;) who bring us the books, and abstracts, and patterns of experiments of all other parts. These we call merchants of light. We have three that collect the experiments which are in all books ; these we call depredators. We have three that collect the experiments of 180 all mechanical arts ; and also of liberal sciences ; and also of practices which are not brought into arts. These we call mystery men. We have three that try new experiments. Such as themselves think good. These we call pioneers or miners. We have three that draw the experiments of the former four into titles and tables, to give the better light for the drawing of observations and axioms out of them. These we call compilers. We have three that bend themselves, looking into the experiments of their fellows, and cast about how to draw out of them things of use and practice for man's life and knowledge, as well for works, as for plain demonstration of causes, means of natural divinations, and the easy and clear dis- covery of the virtues and parts of bodies. These we call dowry-men or benefactors. Then after divers meetings and consults of our whole number, to consider of the former labours and collections, we have three that take care, out of them, to direct new experiments, of a higher light, more penetrating into nature than the former. These we call lamps. We have three others that do execute the expe- riments so directed, and report them. These we call inoculators. Lastly, we have three that raise the former dis- 181 coveries by experiments into greater observations, axioms, and aphorisms. These we call inter- preters of nature. We have also, as you must think, novices and apprentices, that the succession of the former em- ployed men do not fail ; besides a great number of servants and attendants, men and women. And this we do also : we have consultations, which of the inventions and experiences, which we have discovered, shall be published, and which not: and take all an oath of secrecy, for the concealing of those which we think fit to keep secret : though some of those we do reveal sometimes to the state, and some not. For our ordinances and rites, we have two very long and fair galleries : in one of these we place patterns and samples of all manner of the more rare and excellent inventions: in the other we place the statues of all principal inventors. There we have the statue of your Columbus, that dis- covered the West-Indies : also the inventor of ships : your monk, that was the inventor of ordnance, and of gunpowder : the inventor of music : the inventor of letters: the inventor of printing: the inventor of observations of astronomy: the inven- tor of works in metal : the inventor of glass : the inventor of silk of the worm : the inventor of wine : the inventor of corn and bread : the inventor of 182 sugars : and all these by more certain tradition than you have. Then have we divers inventors of our own of excellent works ; which since you have not seen, it were too long to make descriptions of them ; besides, in the right understanding of those descriptions, you might easily err. For upon every invention of value, we erect a statue to the inven- tor, and give him a liberal and honourable reward. These statues are some of brass; some of marble and touchstone ; some of cedar, and other special woods gilt and adorned; some of iron; some of silver ; some of gold. We have certain hymns and services which we say daily, of laud and thanks to God for his mar- vellous works ; and forms of prayers, imploring his aid and blessing for the illumination of our labours ; and the turning of them into good and holy uses. Lastly, we have circuits or visits of divers prin- cipal cities of the kingdom ; where, as it cometh to pass, we do publish such new profitable inven- tions as we do think good. And we do also declare natural divinations of diseases, plagues, swarms of hurtful creatures, scarcity, tempests, earthquakes, great inundations, comets, tempera- ture of the year, and divers other things ; and we give counsel thereupon what the people shall do for the prevention and remedy of them. And when he had said this, he stood up : and I 183 as I had been (aught, kneeled down ; and he laid his right hand upon my head, and said, God bless thee, my son, and God bless this relation which I have made. I give thee leave to publish it for the good of other nations : for we here are in God's bosom, a land unknown. And so he left me; having assigned a value of about two thousand ducats, for a bounty to me and my fellows. For they give great largesses where they come upon all occasions. THE REST WAS NOT PERFECTED. 184 LETTER TO SIR HENRY SAVILLE*. SIR, COMING back from your invitation at Eton,, where I had refreshed myself with company which I loved, I fell into a consideration of that part of policy whereof philosophy speaketh too much, and laws too little; and that is, of education of youth. Whereupon fixing my mind a while, I found straightways, and noted even in the discourses of philosophers, which are so large in this argument, a strange silence concerning one principal part of that subject. For as touching the framing and seasoning of youth to moral virtues, (as tolerance of labours, continency from pleasures, obedience, honour, and the like) they handle it ; but touching * Sir Henry Saville, so justly celebrated for his noble edition of St. Chrysostom and other learned works, was many years warden of Merton-College in Oxford, (in which university he founded a geometry and astronomy lecture 25 May, 1620. See the instrument of foundation, Rymer XVII. p. 217.) and likewise provost of Eton, To this gen- tleman, as of all the most proper, Sir Francis Bacon sends this discourse touching Helps for the intellectual powers in youth; but being an imperfect essay to incite others, he places this useful subject among the deficients reckon'd up in his Advancement of Learning, Stephens. 185 the improvement, and helping of the intellectual powers, as of conceit, memory and judgment, they say nothing ; whether it were, that they thought it to be a matter wherein nature only pre- vailed ; or that they intended it, as referred to the several and proper arts, which teach the use of reason and speech. But for the former of these two reasons, howsoever it pleaseth them to distin- guish of habits and powers, the experience is mani- fest enough, that the motions and faculties of the wit and memory may be not only governed and guided, but also confirmed and enlarged by custom and exercise duly applied; as if a man exercise shooting, he shall not only shoot nearer the mark, but also draw a stronger bow. And as for the latter, of comprehending these precepts w r ithin the arts of logic and rhetoric, if it be rightly considered, their office is distinct altogether from this point ; for it is no part of the doctrine of the use or hand- ling of an instrument, to teach how to wet or grind the instrument to give it a sharp edge, or how to quench it, or otherwise whereby to give it a stronger temper. Wherefore finding this part of knowledge not broken, I have, but tanquam aliud agens, entered into it, and salute you with it; dedicating it, after the ancient manner, first as to a dear friend, and then as to an apt person, foras- much as you have both place to practise it, and 186 judgment and leisure to look deeper into it than I have done. Herein you must call to mind, * Ap i?ov [xlv vScop* Tho' the argument be not of great height and dignity, nevertheless it is of great and universal use : And yet I do not see why, to con- sider it rightly, that should not be a learning of height, which teacheth to raise the highest and worthiest part of the mind. But howsoever that be, if the world take any light and use by this writing, I will the gratulation be to the good friendship and acquaintance between us two : And so recommended you to God's divine protection. HELPS FOR THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS. I DID ever hold it for an insolent and unlucky saying, faber quisque fortunae suae ; except it be uttered only as an hortative or spur to correct sloth. For otherwise, if it be believed as it soundeth, and that a man entereth into an high imagination that he can compass and fathom all accidents ; and ascribeth all successes to his drifts and reaches ; and the contrary to his errors and sleepings : it is commonly seen that the evening fortune of that man is not so prosperous as of him that without slackening of his industry attributeth 187 much to felicity and providence above him. But if the sentence were turned to this faber quisque ingenii sui, it were somewhat more true, and much more profitable; because it would teach men to bend themselves to reform those imperfections in themselves which now they seek but to cover, and to attain those virtues and good parts which now they seek but to have only in show and demon- stration : Yet notwithstanding every man at- tempteth to be of the first trade of carpenters, and few bind themselves to the second ; whereas never- theless the rising in fortune seldom amendeth the mind ; but on the other side, the removing of the stands and impediments of the mind, doth often clear the passage and current to a man's fortune. But certain it is, whether it be believed or no, that as the most excellent of metals gold is of all other the most pliant and most enduring to be wrought; so of all living and breathing substances, the most perfect (man) is the most susceptible of help, im- provement, impression and alteration; and not only in his body, but in his mind and spirit ; and there again not only in his appetite and affection, but in his powers of wit and reason. For as to the body of man, we find many and strange experiences, how nature is over-wrought by custom, even in actions that seem of most diffi- culty and least possible. As first in voluntarv 188 motion, which tho 3 it be termed voluntary, yet the highest degrees of it are not voluntary ; for it is in my power and will to run ; but to run faster than according to my lightness or disposition of body, is riot in my power nor will. We see the industry and practice of tumblers and funambulos, what effects of great wonder it bringeth the body of man unto. So for suffering of pain and dolour, which is thought so coritrary to the nature of man, there is much example of penances in strict orders of superstition what they do endure, such as may well verify the report of the Spartan boys, which were wont to be scourged upon the altar so bit- terly as sometimes they died of it, and yet were never heard to complain. And to pass to those faculties which are reckoned more involuntary, as long fasting and abstinence, and the contrary ex- treme (voracity) the leaving and forbearing the use of drink for altogether, the enduring vehement cold and the like 5 there have not wanted, neither do want divers examples of strange victories over the body in every of these. Nay, in respiration the proof hath been of some who by continual use of diving and working under the water have brought themselves to be able to hold their breath an incredible time ; and others that have been able without suffocation, to endure the stifling breath of an oven or furnace so heated as tho' it 189 did not scald nor bum, yet it was many degrees too hot for any man not made to it to breathe or take in. And some imposters and counterfeits likewise have been able to wreath and cast their bodies into strange forms and motions; yea, and others to bring themselves into trances and astonish- ments. All which examples do demonstrate how variously and to how high points and degrees the body of man may be as it were moulded and wrought: And if any man conceive then it is some secret propriety of nature that hath been in those persons w r hich have attained to those points, and that it is not open for every man to do the like tho' he had been put to it ; for which cause such things come but very rarely to pass : It is true no doubt but some persons are apter than others ; but so as the more aptness causeth per- fection, but the less aptness doth not disable : So that for example, the more apt child, that is taken to be made a funambulo, will prove more excellent in his feats ; but the less apt will be gregarius funambulo also. And there is small question, but that these abilities would have been more common, and others of like sort not attempted would like- wise have been brought upon the stage, but for two reasons : The one because of mens diffidence in prejudging them as impossibilities; for it holdeth in those things which the poet sailh, pos- 190 sunt quia posse videntur ; for no man shall know how much may be done, except he believe much may be done. The other reason is, because they be but practices base and inglorious and of no great use, and therefore sequester'd from reward of value, and on the other side painful ; so as the re- compence balanceth not with the travail and suf- fering. And as to the will of man, it is that which is most manageable and obedient ; as that which admitteth most medicines to cure and alter it. The most sovereign of all is religion, which is able to change and transform it in the deepest and most inward inclinations and motions; and next to that is opinion and apprehension, whether it be infused by tradition and institution, or wrought in by dis- putation and persuasion ; and the third is example, which transformeth the will of man into the simi- litude of that which is most observant and familiar towards it ; and the fourth is, when one affection is healed and corrected by another, as when cowardice is remedied by shame and dishonour, or sluggishness and backwardness by indignation and emulation, and so of the like ; and lastly, when all these means or any of them have new framed or formed human will, then doth custom and habit corroborate and confirm all the rest : Therefore it is no marvel, tho* this faculty of the mind, (of will and election) which inclineth affection and appe- 191 tite, being but the inceptions and rudiments of will, may be so well governed and managed ; be- cause it admitteth access to so divers remedies to be applied to it and to work upon it : The effects whereof are so many and so known, as require no enumeration ; but generally they do issue as me- dicines do into two kinds of cures, whereof the one is a just or true cure, and the other is called palliation : For either the labour and intention is to reform the affections really and truly, restraining them if they be too violent, and raising them if they be too soft and weak ; or else it is to cover them ; or, if occasion be, to pretend them and re- present them : Of the former sort whereof the examples are plentiful in the schools of philo- sophers, and in all other institutions of moral virtue ; and of the other sort the examples are more plenti- ful in the courts of Princes, and in all politic traffic : where it is ordinary to find, not only profound dissimulations and suffocating the affections, that no note or mark appear of them outwardly ; but also lively simulations and affectations carrying the tokens of passions which are not, as rises jussus and lacrymae coactae, and the like. 192 HELPS OF THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS. THE intellectual powers have fewer means to work upon them than the will or the body of man ; but the one that prevaileth, that is exercise, work- eth more forcibly in them than the rest*. The ancient habit of the philosophers, Si quis quaerat in utramque partem de omni seibilL The exercise of scholars making verses extem- pore, Stans pede in uno, The exercise of lawyers in memory narrative. The exercise of sophists, and Jo. ad oppositum, with manifest effect. Artificial memory greatly holpen by exercise. The exercise of buffoons to draw all things (o conceits ridiculous. The means that help the understanding and faculties thereof are, (Not example, as in the will, by conversation; and here the conceit of imitation already digested, with the confutation, obiter, si videbitur, of Tul- ly's opinion, advising a man to take some one to imitate. Similitude of faces analysed.) Arts, Logic, Rhetoric : The ancients, Aristotle, Plato, Theaetetus, Gorgias litigiuses vel sophista, Protagoras, Aristotle, schola sua. Topics, Elenchs, * The following are but indigested notes. 193 Rhetorics, Organon, Cicero, Hermogenes, The neoterics, Ramus, Agricola. Nil sacri; Lullius his Typocosmia, studying Cooper's dictionary, MaUhaeus collection of proper words for metaphors, Agrippa de vanitatibus, &c. Que. If not here of imitation. Collections preparative. Aristotle's similitude of a shoemaker's shop, full of shoes of all sorts : Demysthenes, Exordia concionum. Tully's pre- cept of theses of all sorts preparative. The relying upon exercise, with the difference of using and tempering the instrument; and the similitude of prescribing against the laws and na- ture of estate. FIVE POINTS. 1 . That exercises are to be framed to the life ; that is to say, to work ability in that kind whereof a man, in the course of action, shall have most use. 2. The indirect and oblique exercises, which do, per partes and per consequentiam, inable these faculties ; which perhaps direct exercise at first would but distort ; and these have chiefly place where the faculty is weak, not per se, but per ac- cidens : As if want of memory grow through light- ness of wit and want of staid attention ; then the mathematics or the law helpeth ; because they are o 194 things, wherein if the mind once roam, it cannot recover. 3. Of the advantages of exercise; as to dance with heavy shoes, to march with heavy armour and carriage ; and the contrary advantage (in na- tures very dull and unapt) of working alacrity, by framing an exercise with some delight or affection. Horat. Sat. I. 25. Ut pueris olim dant crustula blandi. Doctores, elementa velint ut discere prima. 4. Of the cautions of exercise; as to beware lest by evil doing (as all beginners do weakly) a man grow not, and be inveterate, in an ill habit, and so take not the advantage of custom in per- fection, but in confirming ill. Slubbering on the lute. 5. The marshalling and sequel of sciences and practices : Logic and rhetoric should be used to be read after poesy, history and philosophy : First, exercise, to do things well and clean: after, promptly and readily. The exercises in the universities and schools are of memory and invention ; either to speak by heart that which is set down verbatim, or to speak ex- tempore : whereas there is little use in action of either or both ; but most things which we utter are neither verbally premeditate, nor merely ex- temporal. Therefore exercise would be framed 195 to take a little breathing, and to consider of heads ; and then to fit and form the speech extempore. This would be done in two manners ; both with writing and tables, and without: for in most actions it is permitted and passable to use the note, whereunto, if a man be not accustomed, it will put him out. There is no use of a narrative memory in aca- demiis, viz. with circumstances of times, persons and places, and with names; and it is one art to discourse, and another to relate and describe ; and herein use and action is most conversant. Also to sum up and contract, is a thing in action of very general use. 196 FILUM LABYRINTH!, SIVE FORMULA INQUISITIONIS. AD FILIOS. PARS PRIMA. 1. FRANCIS BACON thought in this manner. The knowledge whereof the world is now pos- sessed, especially that of nature, extendeth not to magnitude and certainty of works. The physician pronounceth many diseases incurable, and faileth oft in the rest. The alchemists wax old and die in hopes. The magicians perform nothing that is permanent and profitable. The mechanics take small light from natural philosophy, and do but spin on their own little thrids. Chance sometimes discovereth inventions, but that worketh not in years, but ages. So he saw well, that the inven- tions known are very imperfect, and that new are not like to be brought to light, but in great length of time, and that those which are, came not to light by philosophy. 2. He thought also this state of knowledge was the worst, because men strive (against themselves) 197 to save the credit of ignorance, and to satisfy them- selves in this poverty. For the physician, besides the cauteles of practice, hath this general cautele of art, that he dischargeth the weakness of his art upon supposed impossibilities ; neither can his art be condemned, when it self judgeth. That philo- sophy also, out of which the knowledge of physic which now is in use is hewed, receiveth certain positions and opinions, which if they be well weighed) induce this persuasion, that no great works are to be expected from art, and the hand of man ; as in particular, that opinion, that the heat of the sun and fire differ in kind ; and that other, that composition is the work of man, and mixture is the work of nature, and the like ; all tending to the circumscription of man's power, and to artificial despair; killing in men, not only the comfort of imagination, but the industry of trial : only upon vain glory, to have their heart thought perfect, and that all is impossible, that is not al- ready found. The alchemist dischargeth his art upon his own errors, either supposing a misunder- standing of the words of his authors, which maketh him listen after auricular traditions : or else a failing in the true proportions and scruples of practice, which maketh him renew infinitely his trials ; and finding also that he lighteth upon some mean experiments and conclusions by the way, 198 feedeth upon them, and magnifieth them to the most, and supplieth the rest in hopes. The ma- gician, when he findeth something (as he con- ceiveth) above nature, effected; thinketh, when a breach is once made in nature, that it is all one to perform great things and small ; not seeing, that they are but subjects of a certain kind, wherein magic and superstition hath played in all times. The mechanical person, if he can refine an inven- tion, or put two or three observations or practices together in one, or couple things better with their use, or make the work in less or greater volume, taketh himself for an inventor. So he saw well, that men either persuade themselves of new in- ventions as of impossibilities ; or else think they are already extant, but in secret and in few hands ; or that they account of those little industries and additions, as of inventions, all which turneth to the averting of their minds from any just and con- stant labour, to invent further in any quantity. 3. He thought also, when men did set before themselves the variety and perfection of works, produced by mechanical arts ; they are apt rather to admire the provisions of man, than to appre- hend his wants ; not considering, that the original inventions and conclusions of nature, which are the life of all that variety, are not many, nor deeply fetched ; and that the rest is but the subtile 199 and ruled motion of the instrument and hand ; and that the shop therein is not unlike the library, which in such number of books containeth (for the far greater part) nothing but iterations, varied sometimes in form, but not new in substance. So he saw plainly, that opinion of store was a cause of want ; and that both works and doctrines ap- pear many, and are few. 4. He thought also, that knowledge is uttered to men in a form, as if every thing were finished; for it is reduced into arts and methods, which in their divisions do seem to include all that may be." And how weakly soever the parts are filled, yet they carry the shew and reason of a total ; and thereby the writings of some received authors go for the very art : whereas antiquity used to deliver the knowledge which the mind of man had gathered in observations, aphorisms, or short or dispersed sentences, or small tractates of some parts that they had diligently meditated and laboured ; which did invite men, both to ponder that which was invented, and to add and supply further. But now, sciences are delivered as to be believed and accepted, and not be examined and further dis- covered; and the succession is between master and disciple, and not between inventor and con- tinuer or advancer; and therefore sciences stand at a stay, and have done for many ages, and that 200 which Is positive is fixed, and that which is question is kept question, so as the columns of no further proceeding are pitched. And therefore he saw plainly, men had cut themselves off from further invention ; and that it is no marvel, that that is not obtained which hath not been attempted, but rather shut out and debarred. 5. He thought also, that knowledge is almost generally sought either for delight and satisfaction, or for gain or profession, or for credit and orna- ment, and that every of these are as Atalanta's balls, which hinder the race of invention. For men are so far in these courses from seeking to increase the mass of knowledge, as of that mass which is, they will take no more than will serve their turn : and if any one amongst so many seek- eth knowledge for itself, yet he rather seeketh to know the variety of things, than to discern of the truth and causes of them ; and if his inquisition be yet more severe, yet it tendeth rather to judg- ment than to invention; and rather to dicover truth in controversy, than new matter ; and if his heart be so large as he propouncleth to himself further discovery or invention, yet it is rather of new discourse and speculation of causes, than of effects and operations. And as for those that have so much in their mouths, action and use and prac- tice, and the referring of sciences thereunto ; they 201 mean it of application of that which is known, and not of a discovery of that which is unknown. So he saw plainly, that this mark, namely, invention of further means to indow the condition and life of man with new powers or works, was almost never yet set up and resolved in man's intention and enquiry. 6. He thought also, that amongst other know- ledges, natural philosophy hath been the least fol- lowed and laboured. For since the christian faith, the greatest number of wits have been employed, and the greatest helps and rewards have been con- verted upon divinity. And before-time likewise, the greatest part of the studies of philosophers was consumed in moral philosophy, which was as the heathen divinity. And in both times a great part of the best wits betook themselves to law, plead- ings, and causes of estate; specially in the time of the greatness of the Romans, who, by reason of their large empire, needed the service of all their able men for civil business. And the time amongst the Grecians, in which natural philosophy seemed most to flourish, was but a short space ; and that also rather abused in differing sects and conflicts of opinions, than profitably spent. Since which time natural philosophy was never any pro- fession, nor never possessed any w T hole man, ex- cept perchance some monk in a cloyster, or some 202 gentleman in the country, and that very rarely ; but became a science of passage, to season a little young and unripe wits, and to serve for an intro- duction to other arts, specially physic and the practical mathematics. So as he saw plainly, that natural philosophy hath been intended by few per- sons, and in them hath occupied the least part of their time ; and that in the weakest of their age and judgment. 7. He thought also, how great opposition and prejudice natural philosophy had received by su- perstition, and the immoderate and blind zeal of religion ; for he found that some of the Grecians, which first gave the reason of thunder, had been condemned of impiety ; and that the Cosmogra- phers, which first discovered and described the roundness of the earth, and the consequence thereof touching the antipodes, were not much otherwise censured by the ancient fathers of the christian church; and that the case is now much worse, in regard to the boldness of the schoolmen and their dependances in the monasteries, who, having made divinity into an art, have almost in- corporated the contentious philosophy of Aristotle into the body of christian religion; and generally he perceived in men of devout simplicity this opinion, that the secrets of nature were the secrets of God ; and part of that glory whereinto the 203 mind of man, if it seek to press, shall be op- pressed ; and that the desire in men to attain to so great and hidden knowledge, hath a resem- blance with that temptation which caused the original fall ; and, on the other side, in men of a devout policy, he noted an inclination to have the people, depend on God the more, w r hen they are less acquainted with second causes ; and to have no stirring in philosophy, lest it may lead to an innovation in divinity, or else should discover matter of further contradiction to divinity. But in this part, resorting to the authority of scriptures, and holy examples, and to reason, he rested not satisfied alone, but much confirmed. For first, he considered that the knowledge of nature, by the light whereof man discerned of every living creature, and imposed names according to their propri- ety, was not the occasion of the fall ; but the moral knowledge of good and evil, affected to the end to depend no more upon God's command- ments but for man to direct himself. Neither could he find in any scripture, that the inquiry and science of man in any thing, under the mysteries of the deity, is determined and restrained, but contrariwise allowed and provoked. For con- cerning all other knowledge, the scripture pro- nounceth, That it is the glory of God tp conceal, but it is the glory of man (or of the king, for the king 204 is but the excellency of man) to invent 5 and and again, The spirit of man is as the lamp of God, wherewith he searcheth every secret ; and again most effectually, That God hath made all things beautiful and decent, according to the return of their seasons ; also that he hath set the world in man's heart, and yet man cannot find out the work which God worketh from the beginning to the end : shewing that the heart of man is a continent of that concave or capacity, wherein the content of the world (that is, all forms of the crea- tures, and whatsoever is not God) may be placed or received; and complaining, that through the variety of things, and vicissitudes of times, (which are but impediments and not impuissances) man cannot accomplish his invention. In precedent also he set before tiis eyes, that in those few me- morials before the flood, the scripture honoureth the name of the inventors of music and works in metal ; that Moses had this addition of praise, that he was seen in all the learning of the Egyptians ; that Solomon, in his grant of wisdom from God, had contained as a branch thereof that knowledge, whereby he wrote a natural history of all verdure, from the cedar to the moss, and of all that breath- eth ; that the book of Job, and many places of the prophets, have great aspersion of natural philoso- phv ; that the church in the bosom and lap thereof 205 in the greatest injuries of times, ever preserved; (as holy reliques) the books of philosophy and all heathen learning; and that when Gregory the bishop of Rome became adverse and unjust to the memory of heathen antiquity, it was censured for > pusillanimity in him, and the honour thereof soon after restored, and his own memory almost perse- cuted by his successor Sabinian ; and lastly, in our times, and the ages of our fathers, when Luther and the divines of the protestant church on the one side, and the Jesuits on the other, have enter- prized to reform, the one the doctrine, the other (he discipline and manners of the church of Rome, he saw well how both of them have awaked to their great honour and succour all human learning ; and for reason, there cannot be a greater and more evident than this, that all knowledge, and spe- cially that of natural philosophy, tendeth highly to the magnifying of the glory of God in his power, providence and benefits, appearing and engraven in his works, which without this knowledge are beheld but as through a veil : for if the heavens in the body of them do declare the glory of God to the eye, much more do they in the rule and decrees of them declare it to the understanding. And another reason, not inferior to this, is, that the same natural philosophy principally amongst all other human knowledge, doth give an excellent* 206 defence against both extremes of religion, super- stition and infidelity ; for both it freeth (he mind from a number of weak fancies and imaginations, and it raiseth the mind to acknowledge that to God all things are possible : for to that purpose speaketh our Saviour in that first canon against heresies, delivered upon the case of the resurrection, You err, not knowing the scriptures, nor the power of God ; teaching, that there are but two fountains of heresy, not knowing the will of God revealed in the scriptures, and not knowing the power of God revealed or at least made most sensible in his creatures. So as he saw well, that natural philo- sophy was of excellent use to the exaltation of the divine Majesty ; and that which is admirable, that being a remedy of superstition, it is nevertheless an help to faith. He saw likewise, that the former opinions to the prejudice hereof, had no true ground ; but must spring either out of mere igno- rance, or out of an excess of devotion, to have divinity all in all, whereas it should be only above all, (both which states of mind may be best par- doned ;) or else out of worse causes, namely, out of envy which is proud weakness, and deserveth to be despised; or but of some mixture of impos- ture, to tell a lye for God's cause ; or out of an impious diffidence, as if men should fear to dis- cover some things in nature, which mought subvert 207 faith. But still he saw well, howsoever these opinions are in right reason reproved, yet they leave not to be most effectual hindrances to natural philosophy and invention. 8. He thought also, that there wanted not great contrariety to the further discovery of sciences, in regard of the orders and customs of universities, and also in regard of common opinion. For in universities and colleges men's studies axe almost confined to certain authors, from which if any dissenteth or propoundeth matter of redargutioa, it is enough to make him thought a person turbu- lent; whereas if it be well advised, there is a great difference to be made between matters con- templative and active. For in government change is suspected though to the better; but it is natural to arts to be in perpetual agitation and growth. Neither is the danger alike of new light and of new motion, or remove ; and for vulgar and re- ceived opinions, nothing is more usual, or more usually complained of, than that it is imposed for arrogancy and presumption, for men to authorize themselves against antiquity and authors, towards whom envy is ceased, and reverence by time amortised ; it not being considered what Aristotle himself did, (upon whom the philosophy that now is chiefly dependeth ;) who came with a professed contradiction to all the world, and did put all his 208 opinions upon his own authority and argument, and never so much as nameth an author, but to confute and reprove him ; and yet his success well fulfilled the observation of him that said, If a man come in his own name, him will you receive. Men think likewse^ that if they should give themselves to the liberty of invention and travail of enquiry, that they shall light again upon some conceits and contemplations which have been formerly offered to the world, and have been put down by better, which have prevailed and brought them to obli- vion ; not seeing that howsoever the property and breeding of knowledge is in great and excellent wits, yet the estimation and price of them is in the multitude, or in the inclinations of princes and great persons meanly learned. So as those know- ledges are like to be received and honoured, which have their foundation in the subtility or finest trial of common sense, or such as fill the imagination, and not such knowledge as is digged out of the hard mine of history and experience, and falleth out to be in some points as adverse to common sense or popular reason, as religion, or more. Which kind of knowledge, except it be delivered with strange advantages of eloquence and power, may be likely to appear and disclose a little to the world, and straight to vanish and shut again. So that time seemeth to be of the nature of a river or flood, 209 that bringeth down to us that which is light and blown up, and sinketh and drowneth that which is solid and grave. So he saw well that both in the state of religion, and in the administration of learning, and in common opinion, there were many and continual stops, and traverses to the course of invention. 9. He thought also, that the invention of works and further possibility was prejudiced in a more special manner than that of speculative truth ; for besides the impediments common to both, it hath by itself been notably hurt and discredited by the vain promises and pretences of alchemy, magic, astrology, and such other arts, which (as they now pass) hold much more of imagination and belief, than of sense and demonstration. But to use the poet's language, men ought to have remembered, that although Ixion of a cloud in the likeness of Juno begat Centaurs and Chimaeras, yet Jupiter also of the true Juno begat Vulcan and Hebe. Neither is it just to deny credit to the greatness of the acts of Alexander, because the like or more strange have been feigned of an Armadis or an Arthur, or other fabulous worthies. But though this in true reason should be, and that men ought not to make a confusion of unbelief; yet he saw well, it could not otherwise be in event, but that p 210 experience of untruth had made access to truth more difficult, and that the ignominy of vanity had abated all greatness of mind. 10. He thought also, there was found in the mind of man an affection naturally bred and forti- fied, and furthered by discourse and doctrine, which did pervert the true proceeding towards active and operative knowledge. This was a false estimation, that it should be as a diminution to the mind of man to be much conversant in ex- periences and particulars, subject to sense and bound in matter, and which are laborious to search, ignoble to meditate, harsh to deliver, illiberal to practise, infinite as is supposed in number, and no ways accommodate to the glory of arts. This opinion or state of mind received much credit and strength by the school of Plato, who thinking that particulars rather revived the notions, or excited the faculties of the mind, than merely informed ; and having mingled his philosophy with superstition, which never favoureth the sense, extolleth too much the understanding of man in the inward light thereof. And again, Aristotle's school, which giveth the dew to the sense in the assertion, de- nieth it in practice much more than that of Plato. For we see the schoolmen, Aristotle's successors, who were utterly ignorant of history, rested only 211 upon agitation of wit ; whereas Plato giveth good example of inquiry by induction and view of particulars ; though in such a wandering man- ner as is of no force or fruit. So that he saw well, that the supposition of the sufficiency of man's mind, hath lost the means thereof. 212 SEQUELA CHARTARUM, SIVE, INQ.UISITIO LEG1TIMA DE CALORE ET FRfGORE. SECTIO ORDINTS. Charta suggestionis, sive Memoria frxa* THE sun-beams hot to sense. The moon-beams not hot, but rather conceived to have a quality of cold; for that the greatest colds are noted to be about the full, and the great- est heats about the change. Qu. The beams of the stars have no sensible heat by themselves; but are conceived to have an aug- mentative heat of the sun-beams by the instance following. The same climate arctic and antarctic are observed to differ in cold, viz. that the antarctic is the more cold, and it is manifest the antarctic hemisphere is thinner planted of stars. The heats observed to be greater in July than in June ; at which time the sun is nearest the greatest fixed stars, viz. Cor Leonis, Cauda Leonis, Spica Virginis, Syrius, Canicula. The conjunction of any two of the three highest planets noted to cause great heats. 213 Comets conceived by some to be as well causes as effects of heat, much more than the stars. The sun-beams have greater heat when they are more perpendicular, than when they are more oblique ; as appeareth in difference of regions, and the difference of the times of summer and w r inter in the same region ; and chiefly in the difference of the hours of mid-day, mornings, evenings in the same day. The heats more extreme in July and August than in May or June, commonly imputed to the stay and continuance of heat. The heats more extreme under the tropics than under the line : commonly imputed to the stay and continuance of heat, because the sun there doth as it were double a cape. The heats more about three or four o'clock than at noon ; commonly imputed to the stay and con- tinuance of heat. The sun noted to be hotter when it shineth forth between clouds, than when the sky is open and serene. The middle region of the air hath manifest ef- fects of cold, notwithstanding locally it be nearer the sun, commonly imputed to Antiperistasis, as- suming that the beams of the sun are hot either by approach or by reflection, and that falleth in the middle term between both ; or if, as some conceive, 214 it be only by reflection, then the cold of that re- gion resteth chiefly upon distance. The instances shewing the cold of that region, are the snows which descend, the hails which descend, and the snows and extreme colds which are upon high mountains. But Qu. of such mountains as adjoin to sandy vales and not to fruitful vales which minister no vapours, or of mountains above the region of va- pours, as is reported of Olympus, where any in- scription upon the ashes of the altar remained un- touched of wind or dew. And note, it is also re- ported, that men carried up sponges with vinegar to thicken their breath, the air growing too line for respiration, which seemeth not to stand with coldness. The clouds make a mitigation of the heat of the sun. So doth the interposition of any body which we term shades ; but yet the nights in summer are many times as hot to the feeling of men's bodies as the days are within doors, where the beams of the sun actually beat not. There is no other nature of heat known from the celestial bodies or from the air, but that which cometh by the sun-beams. For in the countries near the pole, we see the extreme colds end in the summer months, as in the voyage of Nova Zembla, where they could not disengage their barks from 215 the ice, no not in July, and met with great moun- tains of ice, some floating, some fixed at that time of the year, being the heart of summer. The caves under the earth noted to be warmer in winter than in summer, and so the waters that spring from within the earth. Great quantity of sulphur, and sometimes na- turally burning after the manner of ALtna, in Ice- land; the like written of Greenland, and divers other the cold countries*. The trees in the cold countries are such as are fuller of rosin, pitch, tar, which are matters apt for fire, and the woods themselves more combustible than those in much hotter countries : as for ex- ample, fir, pine-apple, juniper : Qu. whether their trees of the same kind that ours are, as oak and ash, bear not in the more cold countries, a wood more brittle and ready to take fire than the same kinds with us? The sun beams heat manifestly by reflection, as in countries pent in with hills, upon walls or buildings, upon pavements, upon gravel more than earth, upon arable more than grass, upon rivers if they be not very open, &c. * No doubt but infinite power of the heat of the sun in cold countries, though it be not to the analogy of men, and fruits, &c. 216 The uniting or collection of the sun-beams mul- tiplied heat, as in burning glasses, which are made thinner in the middle than on the sides (as I take it, contrary to spectacles) and the operation of them is, as I remember, first to place them be- tween the sun and the body to be fired, and then to draw them upward towards the sun, which it is true maketh the angle of the cone sharper. But then I take it if the glass had been first placed at the same distance, to which it is after drawn, it would not have had that force, and yet that had been all one to the sharpness of the angle. Qu. So in that the sun's beams are hotter perpendi- cularly than obliquely, it may be imputed to the union of the beams, which in case of perpendi- cularity reflect into the very same lines with the direct, and the further from perpendicularity the more obtuse the angle, and the greater distance between the direct beam and the reflected beam. The sun-beams raise vapours out of the earth, and when they withdraw they fall back in dews. The sun-beams do many times scatter the mists which are in the mornings. The sun-beams cause the divers returns of the herbs, plants and fruits of the earth ; for we see in lemon-trees and the like, that there is coming on at once fruit ripe, fruit unripe, and blossoms > which may shew that the plant worketh to put 217 forth continually, were it not for the variations ot the accesses and recesses of the sun, which call forth, and put back. The excessive heat of the sun doth wither and destroy vegetable, as well as the cold doth nip and blast them. The heat or beams of the sun doth take away the smell of flowers, specially such as are of a milder odour. The beams of the sun do disclose summer flowers, as the pimpernel, marigold, and almost all flowers else, for they close commonly morning and evening, or in over-cast weather, and open in the brightness of the sun ; which is but imputed to dryness and moisture, which doth make the beams heavy or erect ; and not to any other pro- priety in the sun-beams: so they report not only a closing, but a bending or inclining in the Helio- tropium and Calendula. Qu. The sun-beams do ripe all fruits, and addeth to them a sweetness or fatness ; and yet some sultry hot days overcast, are noted to ripen more than bright days. The sun-beams are thought to mend distilled waters ; the glasses being well stopped, and to make them more virtuous and fragrant. The sun-beams do turn wine into vinegar ; but Qu. whether they would not sweeten verjuice. 218 The sun-beams doth pall any wine or beer that is set in them. The sun-beams do take away the lustre of any silks or arras. There is almost no mine, but lieth some depth in the earth ; gold is conceived to lie highest and in the hottest countries ; yet Thracia and Hungary are cold, and the hills of Scotland have yielded gold, but in small grains or quantity. If you set a root of a tree too deep in the ground, that root will perish, and the stock will put forth a new root nearer the superfices of the earth. Some trees and plants prosper best in the shade ; as the bayes, strawberries, some wood-flowers. Almost all flies love the sun-beams, so do snakes ; toads and worms contrary. The sun-beams tanneth the skin of man ; and in some places turnethit to black. The sun-beams are hardly indured by many, but cause head-ach, faintness, and with many they cause rheums ; yet to aged men they are comfort- able. The sun causes pestilence, which with us rage about autumn ; but it is reported, in Barbary they break up about June, and rage most in the winter. 219 The heat of the sun, and of fire, and living creatures, agree in some things which pertain to viviflcation ; as the back of a chimney will set forward an apricot-tree as well as the sun; the fire will raise a dead butterfly as well as the sun ; and so will the heat of a living creature. The heat of the sun in sand will hatch an egg. Qu. The heat of the sun in the hottest countries no- thing so violent as that of fire, no not scarcely so hot to the sense as that of a living- creature. The sun, a fountain of light as well as heat. The other celestial bodies manifest in light, and yet non constat, whether all borrowed, as in the moon ; but obscure in heat. The southern and western wind with us is the warmest, whereof the one bloweth from the sun, the other from the sea ; the northern and eastern the more cold. Qu. whether in the coast of Florida, or at Brasil, the east wind be not the warmest, and the west the coldest ; and so beyond the antarctic Tropic, the southern wind the coldest. The air useth to be extreme hot before thun- ders. The sea and air ambient, appeareth to be hotter than that at land ; for in the northern voyages two or three degrees farther at the open sea, they find less ice than two or three degrees more south 220 near land ; but Qu. for that may be by reason of the shores and shallows. The snows dissolve fastest upon the sea-coasts, yet the winds are counted the bitterest from the sea, and such as trees will bend from. Qu. The streams or clouds of brightness which ap- pear in the firmament, being such through which the stars may be seen, and shoot not, but rest, are signs of heat. The pillars of light, which are so upright, and do commonly shoot and vary, are signs of cold, but both these are signs of drowth. The air when it is moved is to the sense colder ; as in winds, fannings, ventilabra. The air in things fibrous, as fleeces, furs, &c. warm ; and those stuffs to the feeling warm. The water to man's body seemeth colder than the air ; and so in summer, in swimming it seemeth at the first going in ; and yet after one hath been in a while, at the coming forth again, the air seemeth colder than the water. The snow more cold to the sense than water, and the ice than snow ; and they have in Italy means to keep snow and ice for the cooling of their drinks ; Qu. whether it be so in froth in re- spect of the liquor. Baths of hot water feel hottest at the first going 221 The frost dew which we see in hoar frost, and in the rymes upon trees or the like, accounted more mortifying cold than snow ; for snow cherish, eth the ground, and any thing sowed in it ; the other biteth and killeth. Stone and metal exceeding cold to the feeling more than wood ; yea more than jett or amber or horn, which are no less smooth. The snow is ever in the winter season, but the hail, which is more of the nature of ice, is ever in the summer season ; whereupon it is conceived, that as the hollows of the earth are warmest in the winter, so that region of the air is coldest in the summer; as if they were a fugue of the nature of either from the contrary, and a collecting itself to an union, and so to a further strength. So in the shades under trees in the summer which stand in an open field, the shade noted to be colder than in a wood. Cold effecteth congelation in liquors, so as they do consist and hold together, which before did run. Cold breaketh glasses, if they be close stopped in frost, when the liquor freezeth within. Cold in extreme maketh metals, that are dry and brittle, cleft and crack, iEraque dissiliunt; so of pots of earth and glass. Cold maketh bones of living creatures more fragile. 222 Cold maketh living creatures to swell in the joints, and the blood to clot, and turn more blue. Bitter frosts do make all drinks to taste more dead and flat. Cold maketh the arteries and flesh more asper and rough. Cold causes rheums and distillations by com- pressing the brain, and laxes by like reason. Cold increases appetite in the stomach, and willingness to stir. Cold maketh the fire to scald and sparkle. Paracelsus reporteth, that if a glass of wine be set upon a tarras in a bitter frost, it will leave some liquor unfrozen in the center of the glass, which excelleth spiritus vini drawn by fire. Cold in Muscovy, and the like countries, causes those parts which are voidest of blood, as the nose, the ears, the toes, the ringers, to mortify and rot; especially if you come suddenly to fire, after you have been in the air abroad, they are sure to moulder and dissolve. They use for remedy, as is said, washing in snow-water. If a man come out of a bitter cold suddenly to the fire, he is ready to swoon, or overcome. So contrariwise at Nova Zembla, when they opened their door at times to go forth, he that opened the door was in danger to be overcome. 223 The quantity offish in the cold countries, Nor- way, &c. very abundant. The quantity of fowl and eggs laid in the cliffs in great abundance. In Nova Zembla they found no beast but bears and foxes, whereof the bears gave over to be seen about September, and the foxes began. Meat will keep from putrifying longer in frosty weather, than at other times. In Iceland they keep fish, by exposing it to the cold, from putrifying without salt. The nature of man endureth the colds in the countries of Scricfinnia, Biarmia, Lappia, Iceland, Greenland; and that not by perpetual keeping in stoves in the winter time, as they do in Rus- sia; but contrariwise, their chief fairs and inter- course is written to be in the winter, because the ice evens and levelleth the passages of waters, plashes, &c. A thaw after a frost doth greatly rot and mellow the ground. Extreme cold hurteth the eyes, and causes blind- ness in many beasts, as is reported. The cold maketh any solid substance, as wood, stone, metal, put to the flesh, to cleave to it, and to pull the flesh after it, and so put to any cloth that is moist. 224 Cold maketh the pelage of beasts more thick and long, as foxes of Muscovy, sables, &c. Cold maketh the pelage of most beasts incline to grayness or whiteness, as foxes, bears, and so the plumage of fowls; and maketh also the crests of cocks, and their feet white, as is reported. Extreme cold will make nails leap out of the walls, and out of locks, and the like. Extreme cold maketh leather to be stiff like horn. In frosty weather the stars appear clearest and most sparkling. In the change from frost to open weather, or from open weather to frosts, commonly great mists. In extreme colds any thing never so little which arresteth the air maketh it to congeal ; as we see in cobwebs in windows, which is one of the least and weakest threads that is, and yet drops gather about it like chains of pearl. So in frosts, the inside of glass windows gather- eth a dew; Qu. if not more without. Qu. Whether the sweating of marble and stones be in frost, or towards rain. Oil in time of frost gathereth to a substance, as of tallow ; and it is said to sparkle some time, so as it giveth a light in the dark. The countries which lie covered with snow, have a hastier maturation of all grain than in other 225 countries, all being within three months, or there- abouts. Qu. It is said, that compositions of honey, as mead, do ripen, and are most pleasant in the great colds. The frosts with us are casual, and not tied to any months, so as they are not merely caused by the recess of the sun, but mixed with some inferior causes. In the inland of the northern countries, as in Russia, the weather for the three or four months of November, December, January, Febru- ary is constant, viz. clear and perpetual frost, without snows or rains. There is nothing in our region, which by ap- proach 6f a matter hot, will not take heat by tran- sition or excitation. There is nothing hot here with us, but is in a kind of consumption if it carry heat in itself; for all fired things are ready to consume, chafed things are ready to fire, and the heat of mens bodies needeth aliment to restore. The transition of heat is without any imparting of substance, and yet remaineth after the body heated is withdrawn ; for it is not like smells, for they leave some airs or parts not like light, for that abideth not when the first body is removed, not unlike to the motion of the load-stone, which is lent with- out adhesion of substance ; for if the iron be filed where it was rubbed, yet it will draw or turn. Q 226 THE CHARACTERS OF A BELIEVING CHRISTIAN, IN PARADOXES AND SEEMING CONTRADICTIONS. 1 . A CHRISTIAN is one that believes things his reason cannot comprehend; he hopes for things which neither he nor any man alive ever saw : he labours for that which he knoweth he shall never obtain ; yet in the issue, his belief appears not to be false ; his hope makes him not ashamed ; his labour is not in vain. 2. He believes three to be one, and one so be three ; a Father not to be elder than his Son ; a Son to be equal with his Father; and one proceeding .from both to be equal with both ; he believing three persons in one nature, and two natures in one per- son. 3. He believes a Virgin to be a Mother of a Son ; and that very Son of hers to be her Maker. He believes him to have been shut up in a narrow room, whom heaven and earth could not contain. He believes him to have been born in time, who was and is from everlasting. He believes him to have been a w 7 eak child carried in arms, who is the Almighty ; and him once to have died, who only hath life and immortality in himself. 4. He believes the God of all grace to have been angry with one that hath never offended him ; 227 and that God, that hates sin, to be reconciled to himself, though sinning continually, and never mak- ing or being able to make him satisfaction. He believes a most just God to have punished a most just person, and to have justified himself though a most ungodly sinner. He believes himself freely pardoned, and yet a sufficient satisfaction was made for him. 5. He believes himself to be precious in God's sight, and yet Ioaths himself in his own. He dares not justify himself even in those things wherein he can find no fault with himself, and yet believes God accepts him in those services wherein he is able to find many faults. 6. He praises God for his justice, and yet fears him for his mercy. He is so ashamed as that he dares not open his mouth before God ; and yet he comes with boldness to God, and asks him any thing he needs. He is so humble as to acknowledge himself to deserve nothing but evil ; and yet be- lieves that God means him all good. He is one that fears always, yet is as bold as a lion. He is often sorrowful, yet always rejoicing ; many times complaining, yet always giving of thanks. He is the most lowly-minded, yet the greatest aspirer ; most contented, yet ever craving. 7. He bears a lofty spirit in a mean condition ; when he is ablest he thinks meanest of himself, He 228 is rich in poverty, and poor in the midst of riches. He believes all the world to be his, yet he dares take nothing without special leave from God. He covenants with God for nothing, yet looks for a great reward. He loseth his life and gains by it ; and whilst he loseth it, he saveth it. 8. He lives not to himself, yet of all others he is most wise for himself. He denieth himself often, yet no man loveth himself so well as he. He is most reproached, yet most honoured. He hath most afflictions, and most comforts. 9. The more injury his enemies do him, the more advantages he gains by them. The more he forsakes worldly things, the more he enjoys them. 10. He is the most temperate of all men, yet fares most tleliciously ; he lends and gives most freely, yet he is the greatest usurer ; he is meek towards all men, yet inexorable by men. He is the best child, husband, brother, friend; yet hates father and mother, brother and sister. He loves all men as himself, yet hates some men with a per- fect hatred. ] 1 . He desires to have more grace than any man hath in the world, yet is truly sorrowful when he seeth any man have less than himself; heknoweth no man after the flesh, yet gives all men their due respects ; he knoweth if he please man he cannot be the servant of Chris yet for Christ's sake he 229 pleaseth all men in all things. He is a peace- maker, yet is a continual fighter, and an irrecon- cilable enemy. 12. He believes him to be worse than an infidel that provides not for his family, yet himself lives and dies without care. He accounts all his supe- riors, yet stands stiffly upon authority. He is se- vere to his children because he loveth them ; and by being favourable unto his enemy, he revengeth himself upon him. 1 3. He believes the angels to be more excellent creatures than himself and yet counts them his ser- vants. He believes that he receives many good things by their means, and yet he neither prays for their assistance, nor offers them thanks, which he doth not disdain to do to the meanest Christian. 14. He believes himself to be a king, how mean soever he be ; and how great soever he be, yet he thinks himself not too good to be a servant to the poorest saint. 15. He is often in prison yet always at liberty: a freeman though a servant. He loves not honour amongst men, yet highly prizeth a good name. 1 6. He believes that God had bidden every man that doeth him good, to do so ; he yet of any man is the most thankful to them that do aught for him> He would lay down his life to save the soul of his 230 enemy, yet he will not adventure upon one sin to save the life of him, who saved his. 17. He swears to his own hindrance, and ehang- eth not; yet knoweth that his oath cannot tie him to sin. 18. He believes Christ to have no need of any thing he doth, yet maketh account that he doth re- lieve Christ in all his acts of charity. He knoweth he can do nothing of himself, yet labours to work out his own salvation. He professeth he can do nothing, yet as truly professeth he can do all things : he knoweth that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, yet believeth he shall go to heaven both body and soul. 19. He trembles at God's word, yet counts it sweeter to him than honey, and the honey-comb, and dearer than thousands of gold and silver. 20. He believes that God will never damn him, and yet fears God for being able to cast him into hell. He knoweth he shall not be saved by, nor for his good works, yet he doth all the good works he can. 21. He knoweth God's providence is in all things, yet is so diligent in his calling and busi- ness, as if he were to cut out the thread of his hap- piness. He believes before-hand that God hath proposed what he shall be, and that nothing can 231 make him lo alter his purpose ; yet prays and en- deavours, as if he would force God to save him for ever. 22. He prays and labours for that which he is confident God means to give ; and the more as- sured he is, the more earnest he prays for that he knows he shall never obtain, and yet gives not over. He prays and labours for that which he knows he shall be no less happy without ; he prays with all his heart not to be led into temptation, yet rejoiceth when he is fallen into it ; he believes his prayers are heard, even when they are denied ; and gives thanks for that, which he prays against. 23. He hath within him both flesh and spirit, yet he is not a double-minded man ; he is often led cap- tive by the law of sin, yet k never gets dominion over him ; he cannot sin, yet can do nothing with- out sin : he doth nothing against his will, yet main- tains he doth what he would not. He wavers and doubteth, yet obtains. 24. He is often tossed and shaken, yet is as mount Sion; he is a serpent and a dove; a lamb and a lion; a reed and a cedar. He is sometimes so troubled that he thinks nothing to be true in reli- gion; yet if he did think so, he could not at all be troubled. He thinks sometimes that God hath no mercy for him, yet resolves to die in the pursuit of it. He believes like Abraham against hope, and 232 though he cannot answer God's logic, yet with the woman of Canaan, he hopes to prevail with the rhetoric of importunity. 25. He wrestles and yet prevails; and though yielding himself unworthy of the least blessing he enjoys, yet Jacob like, he will not let him go with- out a new blessing. He sometimes thinks himself to have no grace at all, and yet how poor and af- flicted soever he be besides, he would not change conditions with the most prosperous man under heaven, that is a manifest worldling. 26. He thinks sometimes that the ordinances of God do him no good, yet he would rather part with his life than be deprived of them. 27. He was born dead ; yet so that it had been murder for any to have taken his life away. After he began to live, he was ever dying. 28. And though he hath an eternal life begun in him, yet he makes account he hath a death to pass through. 29. He counts self-murther a heinous sin, yet is ever busied in crucifying the flesh, and in putting to death his earthly members : not doubting, but there will come a time of glory, where he shall be esteemed precious in the sight of the great God of heaven and earth, appearing with boldness at his throne, and asking any thing he needs ; being en- dued with humility, by acknowledging his great ^33 crimes and offences, and that he deserveth nothing but severe punishment. 30. He believes his soul and body shall be as full of glory, as them that have more; and no more full, than theirs that have less. 3 1 . He lives invisible to those that see him, and those that know him best do but guess at him ; yet those many times judge more truly of him than he doth of himself. 32. The world will sometimes account him a saint, when God accounteth him a hypocrite; and afterwards when the world branded him for an hy- pocrite, then God owned him for a saint. 33. His death makes not an end of him. His soul which was put into his body, is not to be per- fected without his body ; yet his soul is more happy, when it is separated from his body, than when it was joined unto it : and his body though torn in pieces, burnt to ashes, ground to powder, turned to rottenness, shall be no loser. 34. His advocate, his surety shall be his judge; his mortal part shall become immortal; and what was sown in corruption and defilement shall be raised in incorruption and glory ; and a finite crea- ture shall possess an infinite happiness. Glory be to God. 234 PRAYER MADE AND USED BY THE LORD CHAN- CELLOR BACON. O ETERNAL God, and most merciful Father in Jesus Christ : Let the words of our mouths, and the meditations of our hearts be now and ever gracious in thy sight, and acceptable unto thee, O Lord, our God, our strength, and our re- deemer. O eternal God, and most merciful Father in Jesus Christ; in whom thou hast made a covenant of grace and mercy with all those that come unto thee in him, in his name and mediation, we hum- bly prostrate ourselv€s before the throne of thy mercies' seat, acknowledging that by the breach of all thy holy laws and commandments, we are be- come wild olive-branches, strangers to thy cove- nant of grace ; we have defaced in ourselves thy sacred image imprinted in us by creation ; we have sinned against heaven and before thee, and are no more worthy to be called thy children. O admit us into the place even of hired servants. Lord thou hast formed us in our mothers wombs, thy providence hath hitherto watched over us, and pre- served us unto this period of time : O stay not the 235 course of thy mercies and loving-kindness towards us: have mercy upon us, O Lord, for thy dear Son Christ Jesus sake, who is the way, the truth, and the life. In him, O Lord, we appeal from thy justice to thy mercy, beseeching thee in his name, and for his sake only, thou wilt be graciously pleased freely to pardon, and forgive us all our sins and disobedience, whether in thought, word, or deed, committed against thy divine Majesty; and in his precious blood-shedding, death, and perfect obedience, free us from the guilt, the stain, the punishment and dominion of all our sins, and clothe us with his perfect righteousness. There is mercy w r ith thee, O Lord, that thou mayest be feared ; yea, thy mercies swallow up the greatness of our sins: speak peace to our souls and consciences, make us happy in the free remission of all our sins, and be reconciled to thy poor servants in Jesus Christ, in whom thou art well pleased : suffer not the works of thine own hands to perish, thou art not delighted in the death of sinners, but in their conversion. Turn our hearts, and we shall be turned ; convert us, and we shall be converted ; illuminate the eyes of our minds and understanding with the bright beams of thy Holy Spirit, that we may daily grow in the saving knowledge of the heavenly mystery of our redemption, wrought by our dear Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ ; sanctify 236 our wills and affection by the same Spirit, the most sacred fountain of all grace and goodness ; reduce them to the obedience of thy most holy will in the practice of all piety toward thee, and charity to- wards all men. Inflame our hearts with thy love, cast forth of them what displeaseth thee, all infi- delity, hardness of heart, prophaneness, hypocrisy, contempt of thy holy word and ordinances, all un- cleanness, and whatsoever advanceth itself in op- position to thy holy will. And grant that hence- forth, through thy grace we may be enabled to lead a godly, holy, sober, and christian life in true since- rity and uprightness of heart before thee. To this end, plant thy holy fear in our hearts, grant that it may never depart from before our eyes, but conti- nually guide our feet in the paths of thy righteous- ness, and in the ways of thy commandments: in- crease our weak faith, grant it may daily bring forth (he true fruits of unfeigned repentance, that by the power of the death of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, we may daily die unto sin, and by the power of his resurrection we may be quickened, and raised up to newness of life, may be truly born anew, and may be effectually made partakers of the first resurrection, that then the second death may never have dominion over us. Teach us, O Lord, so to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom ; make us ever mindful of 237 our last end, and continually to exercise the know- ledge of grace in our hearts, that in the said divorce of soul and body, we may be translated here to that kingdom of glory prepared for all those that love thee, and shall trust in thee ; even then and ever, O Lord, let thy holy angels pitch their tents round about us, to guard and defend us from all the malice of Satan, and from all perils both of soul and body. Pardon all our unthankfulness, make us daily more and more thankful for all thy mercies and benefits daily poured down upon us. Let these our humble prayers ascend to the throne of grace, and be granted not only for these mercies, but for whatsoever else thy wisdom knows needful for us ; and for all those that are in need, misery, and distress, whom, Lord, thou hast afflicted either in soul or body; grant them patience and perse- verance in the end, and to the end: And that, O Lord, not for any merits of ours, but only for the merits of thy Son, and our alone Saviour Christ Jesus ; to whom with thee, and the Holy Spirit, be ascribed all glory, &c. Amen. 238 AN ESSAY ON DEATH. 1. I HAVE often thought upon death, and I find it the least of all evils. All that which is past is as a dream ; and he that hopes or depends upon time coming, dreams waking. So much of our life as we have discovered is already dead ; and all those hours which we share, even from the breasts of our mothers until we return to our grand-mother the earth, are part of our dying days ; whereof even this is one, and those that succeed are of the same nature, for we die daily ; and as others have given place to us, so we must in the end give way to others. 2. Physicians in the name of death, include all sorrow, anguish, disease, calamity, or whatsoever can fall in the life of man, either grievous or un- welcome: But these things are familiar unto us, and we suffer them every hour ; therefore we die daily, and I am older since I affirmed it. 3. I know many wise men that fear to die; for the change is bitter, and flesh would refuse to prove it : besides, the expectation brings terror, and that exceeds the evil. But I do not believe, that any man fears to be dead, but only the stroke of death ; and such are my hopes, that if heaven be pleased, and nature renew but my lease for 239 twenty-one years more, without asking longer days, I shall be strong enough to acknowledge without mourning, that I was begotten mortal. Virtue walks not in the high- way, though she go per alta ; this is strength and the blood to virtue, to contemn things that be desired, and to neglect that which is feared. 4. Why should man be in love with his fetters- though of gold ? Art thou drowned in security ? Then I say thou art perfectly dead. For though thou movest, yet thy soul is buried within thee, and thy good angel either forsakes his guard or sleeps. There is nothing under heaven, saving a true friend, (who cannot be counted within the number of moveables) unto which my heart doth lean. And this dear freedom hath begotten me this peace, that I mourn not for that end which must be, nor spend one wish to have one minute added to the uncertain dale of my years. It w T as no mean apprehension of Lucian, who says of Menippus, that in his travels through hell, he knew not the Kings of the earth from other men, but only by their louder cryings and tears : which was fostered in them through the remorseful memory of the good days they had seen, and the fruitful havings which they so unwillingly left behind them : he that was well seated, looked back at his portion, and w T as loth to forsake his farm ; and others either minding 240 marriages, pleasures, profit, or preferment, desired to be excused from death's banquet : they had made an appointment with earth, looking at the blessings, not the hand that enlarged them, forget- ting how unclothedly they came hither, or with what naked ornaments they were arrayed. 5. But w r ere we servants of the precept given, and observers of the heathens rule, memento mori, and not become benighted with this seeming feli- city, we should enjoy it as men prepared to lose, and not wind up our thoughts upon so perishing a fortune : he that is not slackly strong (as the ser- vants of pleasure) how can he be found unready to quit the veil and false visage of his perfection ? The soul having shaken off her flesh, doth then sei: up for herself, and contemning things that are under, shews what finger hath enforced her ; fo r the souls of ideots are of the same piece with those of statesmen, but now and then nature is at a fault, and this good guest of ours, takes soil in an imperfect body, and so is slackened from shewing her wonders ; like an excellent musician, which cannot utter himself upon a defective instrument. 6. But see how I am swerved, and lose my course, touching at the soul that doth least hold action with death, who hath the surest property in this frail act ; his style is the end of all flesh, and the beginning of incorruption. 241 This ruler of monuments, leads men for the most part out of this world with their heels forward ; in token that he is contrary to life ; which being ob- tained, sends man headlong into ■ this wretched theatre, • where being arrived, their first language is that of mourning. Nor in my own thoughts, can I compare men more fitly to any thing, than to the Indian fig-tree, which being ripened to his full height, is said to decline his branches down to the earth ; whereof she conceives again, and they become roots in their own stock. So man having derived his being from the earth, first lives the life of a tree, drawing his nourishment as a plant, and made ripe for death he tends down- wards, and is sowed again in his mother the earth, where he perisheth not, but expects a quickening, 7. So we see death exempts not a man from being, but only presents an alteration ; yet there are some men (I think) that stand otherwise per- suaded. Death finds not a worse friend than an alderman, to whose door I never knew him wel- come ; but he is an importunate guest, and will not be said nay. And though they themselves shall affirm, that they are not within, yet the answer will not be taken ; and that which heightens their fear is, that they know they are in danger to forfeit their flesh, but are not wise of the payment day : which sickly un- 242 certainty, is the occasion that (for the most part) they step out of this world unfurnished for their general account, and being all unprovided, desire yet to hold their gravity, preparing their souls to answer in scarlet. Thus I gather, that death is disagreeable to most citizens, because they commonly die intestate ; this being a rule, that when their will is made, they think themselves nearer a grave than before : now they, out of the wisdom of thousands, think to scare destiny, from which there is no appeal, by not making a will, or to live longer by protestation of their unwillingness to die. They are for the most part well made in this world (accounting their treasure by legions, as men do devils :) their fortune looks toward them, and they are willing to anchor at it, and desire (if it be possible) to put the evil day far off from them, and to adjourn their ungrate- ful and killing period. No, these are not the men which have bespoken death, or whose looks are assured to entertain a thought of him. 8. Death arrives gracious only to such as sit in darkness, or lie heavy burthened with grief and irons; to the poor Christian, that sits bound in the galley; to despairful widows, pensive pri- soners, and deposed Kings ; to them, whose for- tune runs back, and whose spirit mutinies : unto 243 such death is a redeemer, and the grave a place for retiredness and rest. These wait upon the shore of death, and waft unto him to draw near, wishing above all others, to see his star, that they might be led to his place ; wooing the remorseless sisters to wind down the watch of their life, and to break them off before the hour. 9. But death is a doleful messenger to an usurer, and fate untimely cuts their thread ; for it is never mentioned by him, but when rumours of war, and civil tumults put him in mind thereof. And when many hands are armed, and the peace of a city in disorder, and the foot of the com- mon soldiers sounds an alarm on his stairs, then perhaps such a one (broken in thoughts of his moneys abroad, and cursing the monuments of coin which are in his house) can be content to think of death, and (being hasty of perdition) will perhaps hang himself, lest his throat should be cut ; provided, that he may do it in his study, surrounded with wealth, to which his eye sends a faint and languishing salute, even upon the turning off; re- membring always, that he have time and liberty, by writing, to depute himself as his own heir. For that is a great peace to his end, and recon- ciles him wonderfully upon the point. 244 10. Herein we all dally with ourselves, and are without proof till necessity. I am not of those, that dare promise to pine away myself in vain- glory, and I hold such to be but feat boldness, and them that dare commit it, to be vain. Yet for my part, I think nature should do me great wrong, if I should be so long in dying, as I was in being born. To speak truth, no man knows the lists of his own patience ; nor can divine how able he shall be in his sufferings, till the storm come (the per- fectest virtue being tried in action :) but I would (out of a care to do the best business well) ever keep a guard, and stand upon keeping faith and a good conscience. 1 1 . And if wishes might find place, I would die together, and not my mind often, and my body once; that is, I would prepare for the messengers of death, sickness, and affliction, and not wait long, or be attempted by the violence of pain. Herein I do not profess myself a Stoic, to hold grief no evil, but opinion, and a thing indifferent. But I consent with Caesar, and that the sudden- est passage is easiest, and there is nothing more awakens our resolve and readiness to die than the quieted conscience, strengthened with opinion, that we shall be well spoken of upon earth by those 245 that are just, and of the family of virtue ; the op- posite whereof, is a fury to man, and makes even life unsweet. Therefore, what is more heavy than evil fame deserved ? Or likewise, who can see worse days, than he that yet living doth follow at the funerals of his own reputation ? I have laid up many hopes, that I am privileged from that kind of mourning, and could wish that like peace to all those with whom I wage love. 12. I might say much of the commodities that death can sell a man ; but briefly, death is a friend of ours, and he that is not ready to entertain him, is not at home. Whilst I am, my ambition is not to fore-flow the tide ; I have but so to make my interest of it as I may account for it ; I would wish nothing but what might better my days, nor desire any greater place than the front of good opinion. I make not love to the continuance of days, but to the goodness of them ; nor wish to die, but refer myself to my hour, which the great dispenser of all things hath appointed me ; yet as I am frail, and suffered for the first fault, were it given me to chuse, I should not be earnest to see the evening of my age ; that extremity of itself being a disease, and a mere return into infancy : so that if per- petuity of life might be given me, I should think what the Greek poet said, such an age is a mortal 246 evil. And since I must needs be dead, I require it may not be done before mine enemies, that I be not stript before I be cold ; but before my friends. The night was even now ; but that name is lost ; it is not now too late, but early. Mine eyes begin to discharge their watch, and compound with this fleshly weakness for a time of perpetual rest ; and I shall presently be as happy for a few hours, as I had died the first hour I was born. 247 LETTER TO THE MARQUIS FIAT, RELATING TO THE ESSAYS. Monsieur V Ambassadeur mon File, VOYANT que vostre Excellence faict & traite manages, non seulement entre les Princes d'Angle- terre & de France, mais aussi entre les langues (puis que faictes traduire non livre de Tadvance- ment des sciences en Francois) j'ai bien voulu vous envoyer mon livredernierement imprime, que j avois pour veu pour vous, mais j' estois en doubte, de le vous envoyer, pour ce qu* il estoit escrit en Anglois. Mais a' cest'heure pour la raison susdicte je le vous envoye. C'est un Reconcilement de mes Essayes Morales & Civiles, mais telement en- largies & enrichies, tant de nombre que de poix, que c' est de fait un oeuvre nouveau. Je vous baise les mains, & reste. Vostre tres affection£e ami, & tres humble serviteur. 248 TO THE EARL OF ARUNDEL AND SURREY: Just before his death, being the last letter he ever wrote. MY VERY GOOD LORD, I WAS likely to have had the fortune of Caius Plinius the elder, who lost his life by trying an ex- periment about the burning of the mountain Vesu- vius : for I was also desirous to try an experiment or two, touching the conservation and induration of bodies. As for the experiment itself, it suc- ceeded excellently well: but in the journey (be- tween London and Highgate) I was taken with such a fit of casting, as I knew not whether it were the stone, or some surfeit, or cold, or indeed a touch of them all three. But when I came to your lordship's house, I was not able, to go back, and therefore was forced to take up my lodging here, where your house-keeper is very careful and dili- gent about me; which I assure myself your lord- ship will not only pardon towards him, but think the better of him for it. For indeed your lordship's house was happy to me ; and I kiss your noble hands for the welcome which I am sure you give me to it, &c. I know how unfit it is for me to write to your lordship with any other hand than my own ; but by my troth my fingers are so disjointed with this fit of sickness, that I cannot steadily hold a pen. 249 E. Regr. Curia Pr&rogat. Cantura. Extract. THE LAST WILL OF FRANCIS BACON VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN. r IRST, I bequeath my soul and body into the hands of God by the blessed oblation of my Saviour; the one at the time of my dissolution, the other at the time of my resurrection. For my burial I de- sire it may be in St. Michael's Church near St. Albans : there was my mother buried, and it is the parish church of my mansion-house of Gorhambury, and it is the only christian church within the walls of Old Verulam. I would have the charge of my funeral not to exceed three hundred pounds at the most. For my name and memory I leave it to mens charitable speeches, and to foreign nations, and the next ages. But as to that durable part of my memory, which consisteth in my works and wri- tings, I desire my executors, and especially sir John Constable and my very good friend Mr. Bosvile, to take care that of all my writings, both of English and of Latin, there may be books fair bound and placed in the king's library, and in the 250 library of the university of Cambridge, and in the library of Trinity college, where myself was bred, and in the library of Bennet college, where my fa- ther was bred, and in the library of the university of Oxonford, and in the library of my lord of Can- terbury, and in the library of Eaton. Also whereas I have made up two register books, the one of my orations or speeches, the other of my epistles or letters, whereof there may be use ; and yet because they touch upon business of state, they are not fit to be put into the hands but of some counsellor, I do devise and bequeath them to the right honourable my very good lord the lord bishop of Lincoln, and the chancellor of his majesty's dutchy of Lancaster. Also I desire my executors, especially my brother Constable, and also Mr. Bos- vile, presently after my decease to take into their hands all my papers whatsoever, which are either in cabinets, boxes or presses, and them to seal up until they may at their leisure peruse them. I give and bequeath unto the poor of the parishes where I have at any time rested in my pilgrimage, some little relief according to my poor means ; to the poor of St. Martin's in the fields where I was born, and lived in my first and last days, forty pounds; to the poor of St. Michael's near St. Albans where I desire to be buried, because the day of death is better than the day of birth, fifty 251 pounds ; to the poor of St. Andrew's in Holborn, in respect of my long abode in Gray's-Inn, thirty pounds ; to the poor of the Abbey church parish in St. Albans, twenty pounds ; to the poor of St. Peter's there, twenty pounds ; to the poor of St. Stephen's there, twenty pounds ; to the poor of Redborn twenty pounds ; to the poor of Hemstead, where I heard sermons and prayers to my comfort in the time of the former great plague, twenty pounds ; to the poor of Twickenham, where I lived some time at Twickenham park, twenty pounds. I intreat Mr. Shute of Lombard-street , to preach my funeral sermon, and to him in that respect I give twenty pounds ; or if he cannot be had, Mr. Peterson my late chaplain, or his bro- ther. Devises and legacies to my wife : I give, grant and confirm to my loving wife by this my last will, whatsoever hath been assured to her, or men- tioned or intended to be assured to her by any former deed, be it either my lands in Hertford- shire, or the farm of the seal, or the gift of goods in accomplishment of my covenants of marriage ; and I give her also the ordinary stuff at Gorham- bury, as wainscot tables, stools, bedding, and the like; (always reserving and excepting the rich hangings with their covers, the table carpets, and the long cushions, and all other stuff which was or 252 is used in the long gallery ; and also a rich chair, which was my niece C sesar's gift, and also the armour, and also all tables of marble and towch.) I give also to my wife my four coach geldings and my best caroache, and her own coach mares and caroache : I give also and grant to my wife the one half of the rent which was reserved upon Reaed's lease for her life ; which rent although I intended to her merely for her better maintenance while she lived at her own charge and not to con- tinue after my death, yet because she has begun to receive it, I am content to continue it to her; and I conceive by this advancement, which first and last I have left her, besides her own inheritance, I have made her of competent abilities to maintain the estate of a viscountess, and given sufficient tokens of my love and liberality towards her; for I do reckon (and that with the least) that Gorhambury and my lands in Hertfordshire, will be worth unto her seven hundred pounds per Annum, besides Woodfells and the leases of the houses, whereof five hundred pounds per Annum only I was tied unto by cove- nants upon marriage : so as the two hundred pounds and better was mere benevolence ; the six hundred pounds per Annum upon the farm of the writs, was likewise mere benevolence ; her own inheritance also, with that she purchased with part of her portion, is two hundred pounds per Annum 253 and better, besides the wealth she hath in jewels, plate or otherwise, wherein I was never straight- handed. All which I here set down, not because I think it too much, but because others may not think it less than it is. Legacies to my friends : I give unto the right honourable my worthy friend the marquis Fiat, late lord ambassador of France, my books of ori- sons or psalms curiously rhymed : 1 give unto the right honourable my noble friend Edward earl of Dorset, my ring, with the crushed diamond, which the king that now is gave me when he was prince : I give unto my right honourable friend the lord Cavendish, my casting bottle of gold: I give to my brother Constable all my books, and one hun- dred pounds to be presented to him in gold: I give to my sister Constable some jewels, to be bought for her of the value of fifty pounds : I give to Nail her daughter some jewels, to be bought for her of the value of forty pounds : I give to my lady Cooke some jewels, to be bought for her of the value of fifty pounds : And to her daughter Anne Cooke, to buy her a jewel, forty pounds : And to her son Charles, some little jewel to the value of thirty pounds. I will also that my executors sell my chambers in Grays-Inn, which (now the lease is full) I conceive may yield some three hundred pounds ; one hundred pounds for the ground storv, 254 and two hundred pounds for the third and fourth stories ; which money, or whatsoever it be, I desire my executors to bestow for some little present re- lief upon twenty five poor scholars in both univer- sities, fifteen in Cambridge and ten in Oxonford. I give to Mr. Thomas Meautis, some jewel to be bought for him of the value of fifty pounds, and my footcloth horse : I give to my ancient good friend sir Toby Matthews, some ring to be bought for him of the value of fifty pounds: I give to my very good friend sir Christopher Darcy, some ring to be bought for him of the value of thirty pounds : I give to Mr. Henry Percy one hundred pounds : I give to Mr. Henry Goodricke forty pounds : I give to my God-son Francis Lowe son of Hum- phrey Lowe, one hundred and fifty pounds: I give to my God-son Francis Hatcher son of Mr. William Hatcher, one hundred pounds: I give to my God- son Francis Fleetwood son of Henry Fleetwood Esq; fifty pounds : I give to my God-son Philips son of auditor Philips, twenty pounds : I give to every of my executors a piece of plate of thirty pounds value. Legacies to my servants now, or late servants : I give to my servant Robert Halpeny four hundred pounds, and the one half of my provisions of hay, firewood and timber, which shall remain at the time of my decease : I give to my servant Stephen 255 Paise three hundred and fifty pounds, and my bed with the appurtenances, bed linen and apparel linen as shirts, pillowbiers, sheets, caps, handker- chiefs, &c. I give to my servant Wood three hundred and thirty pounds, with all my apparel, as doublets, hose, and to his wife ten pounds : I give to my late servant Francis Edney two hundred pounds, and my rich gown : I give to my ancient servant Throughton one hundred pounds : I give to my chaplain Dr. Rawleigh one hundred pounds : I give to my ancient servant Welles one hundred pounds : I give to my ancient servant Fletcher one hundred pounds, and to his brother ten pounds; and if my servant Fletcher be dead, -then the whole to his brother: I give to my w r ife's late wait- ing gentlewoman Mrs. Wagstaffe, one hundred pounds : I give to Morrice Davis one hundred pounds : I give to old John Bayes one hundred pounds : I give to my ancient servant Woder threescore and ten pounds : I give to my ancient servant Guilman threescore pounds : I give to my ancient servant Faldo forty pounds : I give to London my coachman forty pounds : I give to Harsnepp my groom forty pounds : I give to Abra- ham my footman forty pounds : I give Smith my bayliff and his wife forty pounds: I give to my ancient servant Bowes thirty pounds : I give to my servant Atkins thirty pounds : I give to old Tho- 256 mas Gotherum, who was bred with me from a child, thirty pounds : I give to my servant Plomer twenty pounds: I give to Daty my cook twenty pounds : I give to Henry Brown twenty pounds : I give to Richard Smith twenty pounds : I give to William Sayers ten pounds: I give to John Large twenty pounds : 1 give to old good wife Smith ten pounds: I give to Peter Radford's wife five pounds : I give to every mean servant that attends me and is not already named, five pounds. The general devise and bequest of all my lands and goods to the performance of my will. Whereas by former assurance made to sir John Constable knight, my brother-in-law, and to sir Thomas Crewe, and sir Thomas Hedley, knighr, and Serjeants at law, and some other persons now deceased ; all my lands and tenements in Hertford- shire, were by me conveyed in trust: And whereas of late my fine, and the whole benefit thereof, was by his majesty's letters patents conveyed to Mr. Justice Hutton, Mr. Justice Chamberlain, sir Fran- cis Barneham and sir Thomas Crewe knight, per- sons by me named in trust ; I do devise by this my will, and declare, that the trust by me reposed/ as well touching the said lands as upon the said letters patents, is, that all and every the said persons so trusted, shall perform all acts and assurances that 257 by my executors, or the survivor or survivors of them shall be thought fit and required, for the pay- ment and satisfaction of my debts and legacies, and performance of my will, having a charitable care that the poorest either of my creditors or legataries be first satisfied. I do farther give and devise all my goods, chat- tels and debts due to me whatsoever, as well my pension of twelve hundred pounds per Annum from the king for certain years yet to come, as all my plate, jewels, houshold stuff, goods and chat- tels whatsoever, (except such as by this my last will I have especially bequeathed to my executors, for the better and more ready payment of my debts, and performance of my will.) And because I conceive there will be upon the moneys raised by sale of my lands, leases, goods and chatties, a good round surplusage, over and above that which may serve to satisfy my debts and legacies, and perform my will; I do devise and declare, that my executors shall employ the said surplusage in manner and form following; that is to say, that they purchase there with so much land of inheritance, as may esect and endow two lec- tures in either the universities, one of which lec- tures shall be of natural philosophy, and the sci- ences in general thereunto belonging ; hoping that the stipends or salaries of the lectures may amount 258 to two hundred pounds a year for either of them; and for the ordering of the said lectures from time to time, I leave it to the care of my executors, to be established by the advice of the lords bishops of Lincoln and Coventry and Lichfield. Nevertheless thus much I do direct, that none shall be lecturer (if he be English) except he be master of arts of seven years standing, and that he be not professM in divinity, law or physic, as long as he remains lecturer; and that it be without dif- ference whether [he] be a stranger or English : and I wish my executors to consider of the president of Sir Henry SavihVs lectures for their better in- struction. I constistute and appoint for my executors of this my last will and testament, my approved good friend the right honourable Sir Humphrey Maye chancellor of his majesty's duchy of Lancaster, Mr. Justice Hutton, Sir Thomas Crewe, Sir Francis Barneham, Sir John Constable, and Sir Euball Thel- wall ; and I name and intreat to be one of my su- pervisors, my most noble, constant and true friend the duke of Buckingham, unto whom I do most humbly make this my last request, that he will reach forth his hand of grace to assist the just perfor- mance of this my will, and likewise that he will be graciously pleased for my sake to protect and help such of my good servants, as my executors shall at <259 any time recommend to his grace's favour; and also I do desire bis grace in all humbleness to com- mend the memory of my long continued and faith- ful service unto my most gracious sovereign, who ever when he was prince was my pa ron, as I shall (who have now, I praise God, one foot in heaven) pray for him while I have breath. And because of his grace's great business, I pre- sume also to Lame for another of my supervisors, my good friend and near ally the Master of the Rolls. And I do most earnestly intreat both my execu- tors and supervisors, that although I know well it is matter of trouble and travail unto them, yet con- sidering what I have been, that they would vouch- safe to do this last office to my memory and good name, and to the discharge of mine honour and conscience ; that all men may be duly paid their own, that my good mind by their good care may erFect that good work. Whatsoever I have given, granted, confirmed or appointed to my wife, in the former part of this my will, I do now for just and great causes utterly re- voke and make void, and leave her to her right only. I desire my executors to have special care to dis- charge a debt by bond (now made in my sickness to Mr. Thomas Mewtes) he discharging me fully 260 towards Sir Robert Douglass, and to procure Sir Robert Douglass his patent to be delivered to him. Fr. St Alban. Published the nineteenth day of December, 1625, in the presence of W. Rawley, Ro. Halpeny, Stephen Raise, Will. Atkins, Thomas Kent, Edward Legge. Decimo tertio die mensis Julii Anno Domini millesimo sexcen- tesimo vicesimo septimo emanavit commissio domino Roberto Rich militi supreme curies cancellariae magistror' uni, Sr Thomas Meautys armigero, creditorihus honor andi viri domini Francisci Bacon militis domini Verulam vicecomitis sancti Albani defunct', habentibus *n . , ^ ' & ,0o. <> % °4. \ X y