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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