Glass. Book. THE TWO BOOKS OF FRANCIS BACON, OF THE PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, DIVINE AND HUMAN. Em -red 5+*J» q^THE KING. LONDON: PRINTED BY J. Maux a celle des objets particu- liers, il semble pourtant par l'emploi frequent qu'il fait des termes de l'6cole, quelque fois meme par celui des principes Scholastiques, et par des divisions et subdivisions dont l'usage etoit alors fort a la mode, avoir marque un peu trop de management ou de deference pour le gout dominant de son siecle, Ce grand homme, apres avoir brise tant de fers, £toit encore retenu par quelques chaines qu'il ne pouvoit ou n'osoit rompre. Discours Priliminaire de V Encyclopidie* XV11 II. NATURAL PHILOSOPHY .... 183 1 Of Natural Science, or Speculative Phi- losophy 185 g Of Natural Prudence, or Operative Phi- losophy 203 III. SELF KNOWLEDGE, OR HUMA- NITY 215 1 Of Discovery . ; 217 2 Of Impression 219 PHILOSOPHY OF THE BODY .... 222 1 Medicine 223 2 Cosmetic 237 3 Athletic 4 Sensuality 238 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND .... 239 1 Of the nature of the Soul or Mind . . 2 Of the faculties of the Soul or Mind . . 244 RATIONAL PHILOSOPHY ..... 247 1 Art of Enquiry, or Invention .... 249 2 Art of Examination, or Judgment . . . 262 3 Art of Custody, or Memory .... 273 4 Art of Elocution, or Tradition .... 275 MORAL PHILOSOPHY 307 1 Of the nature of Good 310 The Christian Law determines most of the Controversies in Morals .... 314 Of Good with respect to Society, or of Duty 326 2 Of the Culture of the Mind . . . . 334 CIVIL KNOWLEDGE . 353 1 Of Conversation 360 2 Of Negotiation, or Business .... 362 Of Prudential Wisdom, or the Art of rising in Life 37 6 Of marshalling our pursuits ..... 400 3 Of Government 409 DIVINITY 417 1 The nature of the Revelation .... 425 2 The Matter revealed ....... 437 Conclusion of this General Survey of Learning 441 c TO SIR THOMAS BODLEY. SlK, I think no man may more truly say, with the Psalm, Multum incola fuit anima mea, than myself; for I do confess since I was of any understanding, my mind hath in effect been absent from that I have done : and in absence are many errors, which I do willingly acknowledge ; and amongst the rest, this great one that led the rest ; that knowing myself by inward calling to be fitter to hold a book than to play a part, I have led my life in civil causes ; for which I was not very fit by nature, and more unfit by the preoccupation of my mind. Therefore calling myself home, I have now for a time enjoyed myself; whereof likewise I desire to make the world partaker. My labours (if I may so term that which was the comfort of my other labours) I have dedicated to the King ; desirous if there be any good in them, it may be as the fat of a sacrifice, incensed to his honour : and the second copy I have sent unto you, not only in good affection, but in a kind of congruity, in regard of your great and rare desert of learning. For Books are the Shrines where the Saint is, or is believed to be : and you having built an Ark to save Learning from Deluge, (a) deserve propriety in any new instrument or engine, whereby Learning should be improved or advanced. 1605. (a) The Bodleian Library. XIX TO THE EARL OF SALISBURY. It may please your Good Lordship, I present your Lordship with a work of my vacant time ; which if it had been more, the work had been better. It appertained to your Lordship (besides my particular respects) in some propriety ; in regard you are a great Governour in a province of Learn- ing, (a) And (that which is more) you have added to your place affection towards Learning; and to your affection, judgment. Of which, the last I could be content were (for the time) less, that you might the less exquisitely censure that which I offer unto you. But sure I am, the argument is good, if it had lighted upon a good author. But I shall content myself to awake better spirits ; like a bell-ringer, which is first up to call others to church. So with my humble desire of your Lordship's good acceptation, I re- main. 1605. («) Chancellor of the University of Cambridge. THE TWO BOOKS OF FRANCIS BACON, OF THE PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, DIVINE AND HUMAN. TO THE KING. THE FIRST BOOK OF FRANCIS BACON: OF THE PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, DIVINE AND HUMAN. TO THE KING There were under the law, excellent king, both daily sacrifices, and freewill offerings \ the one proceeding upon ordinary observ- ance, the other upon a devout chearfulness : in like manner there belongeth to kings from their servants both tribute of duty, and pre- sents of affection. In the former of these! hope I shall not live to be wanting, accord- ing to my most humble duty, and the good pleasure of your majesty's employments : for the latter, I thought it more respective to make choice of some oblation, which might b 2 rather refer to the propriety and excellency of your individual person, than to the business of your crown and state. Wherefore representing your majesty many times unto my mind, and beholding you not with the inquisitive eye of presumption, to discover that which the Scripture telleth me is inscrutable, but with the observant eye of duty and admiration ; leaving aside the other parts of your virtue and fortune, I have been touched, yea, and possessed with an extreme wonder at those your virtues and faculties, which the philosophers call intellectual ; the largeness of your capacity, the faithfulness of your memory, the swiftness of your ap- prehension, the penetration of your judg- ment, and the facility and order of your elocution : and I have often thought, that of all the persons living that I have known, your majesty were the best instance to make a man of Plato's opinion, that all knowledge is but remembrance, and that the mind of man by nature knoweth all things, and hath but her own native and original notions (which by the strangeness and darkness of this ta- bernacle of the body are sequestered) again revived and restored : such a light of nature I have observed in your majesty, and such a readiness to take flame, and blaze from the least occasion presented, or the least spark of another's knowledge delivered. And as the Scripture saith of the wisest king, That his heart tuas as the sands of the sea; which though it be one of the largest bodies, yet it con- sisteth of the smallest and finest portions ; so hath God given your majesty a composition of understanding admirable, being able to compass and comprehend the greatest mat- ters, and nevertheless to touch and apprehend the least ; whereas it should seem an impos- sibility in nature, for the same instrument to make itself fit for great and small works. And for your gift of speech, I call to my mind what Cornelius Tacitus saith of Augus- tus Caesar ; August o prqfluens^ et quw prin- cipem deceret, eloquentia fait : For, if we note it well, speech that is uttered with labour and difficulty, or speech that savoureth of the affectation of art and precepts, or speech that is framed after the imitation of some pattern of eloquence, though never so excel- lent ; all this has somewhat servile, and hold- ing of the subject. But your majesty's man* ner of speech is indeed prince-like, flowing as from a fountain, and yet streaming and branching itself into nature's order, full of facility and felicity, imitating none, and ini- mitable by any. And as in your civil estate there appeareth to be an emulation and con- tention of your majesty's virtue with your fortune ; a virtuous disposition with a fortu-^ nate regiment ; a virtuous expectation, when time was, of your greater fortune, with a prosperous possession thereof in the due time ; a virtuous observation of the laws of marriage, with most blessed and happy fruit of marriage ; a virtuous and most christian desire of peace, with a fortunate inclina- tion in your neighbour princes thereunto : so likewise, in these intellectual matters, there seemeth to be no less contention be- tween the excellency of your majesty's gifts of nature, and the universality and perfec- tion of your learning. For I am well as- sured that this which I shall say is no am- plification at all, but a positive and measur- ed truth ; which is, that there hath not been since Christ's time any king or temporal monarch, which hath been so learned in all literature and erudition, divine and human. For let a man seriously and diligently revolve and peruse the succession of the emperors of Rome ; of which Caesar the dictator* who lived some years before Christ, and Marcus Antonjus, were the best learned ; and so de- scend to the emperors of Graecia, or of the West ; and then to the lines of France* Spain, England* Scotland and the rest, and he shall find this judgment is truly made* For it seemeth much in a king, if, by the com- pendious extractions of other men's wits and labours, he can take hold of any superficial ornaments and shews of learning ; or if he countenance and prefer learning and learned men : but to drink indeed of the true foun- tains of learning, nay, to have such a foun- tain of learning in himself, in a king, and in a king born, is almost a miracle. And the more because there is met in your ma- jesty a rare conjunction, as well of divine and sacred literature, as of profane and human ; so as your majesty standeth invest- ed of that triplicity, which in great venera- tion was ascribed to the ancient Hermes ; the power and fortune of a king, the know- ledge and illumination of a priest, and the learning and universality of a philosopher. This propriety, inherent and individual at- tribute in your majesty, deserveth to be ex- pressed not only in the fame and admiration of the present time, rior in the history or tradition of the ages succeeding;' but^also in some solid work, fixed memorial, and im- mortal monument, bearing a character or signature both of the power of a king, and the difference and perfection of such a king. object of this Therefore I did conclude with myself, that work. . 1 could not make unto your majesty a better oblation, than of some treatise tending to that end, whereof the sum will consist of these two parts ; the former, concerning the excellency of learning and knowledge, and the excellency of the merit and true glory in the augmentation and propagation thereof: the latter, what the particular acts and works are, which have been embraced and under- taken for the advancement of learning; and again, what defects and undervalues I find in such particular acts : to the end, that though I cannot positively or affirmatively advise your majesty, or propound unto you framed particulars ; yet I may excite your princely cogitations to visit the excellent treasure of your own mind, and thence to extract parti- culars for this purpose, agreeable to your magnanimity and wisdom. LEARNING, HOW DISCREDITED. In the entrance to the former of these, to clear the way, and, as it were, to make si- lence, to have the true testimonies concern- ing the dignity of learning to be better heard, without the interruption of tacit objections \ I think good to deliver it from the discredits and disgraces which it hath received, all from ignorance, but ignorance severally disguised ; appearing sometimes in the zeal and jea- lousy of divines, sometimes in the severity and arrogancy of politicians, and sometimes in the errors and imperfections of learned men themselves. I hear the former sort say, that knowledge objections of is of those things which are to be accepted of with great limitation and caution ; that the aspiring to overmuch knowledge, was ,10 the original temptation and sin, whereupon ensued the fall of man ; that knowledge hath in it somewhat of the serpent, and therefore where it entereth into a man it makes him swell; Scientia inflat : that Solomon gives a censure, That there is no end of making books* and that much reading is a iveariness of the flesh) and again in another place, That in spacious knowledge there is much contristation, and that he that increaseth knoivledge increaseth anxiety ; that St. Paul gives a caveat, That we be not spoiled through vain philosophy ; that experience demonstrates how learned men have been arch-heretics, how learned times have been inclined to atheism, and how the contemplation of second causes, doth dero- gate from our dependance upon God who is the first cause, No danger To discover then the ignorance and error quantity of of this opinion, and the misunderstanding in the grounds thereof, it may well appear these men do not observe or consider, that it was not the pure knowledge of nature and universali- ty, a knowledge by the light whereof man did give names unto other creatures in para-- dise, as they were brought before him, ac- 11 cording unto their proprieties, which gave occasion to the fall; but it was the proud knowledge of good and evil, with an intent in man to give law unto himself, and to de- pend no more upon God's commandments, which was the form of the temptation* Nei- ther is it any quantity of knowledge, how great soever, that can make the mind of man to swell ; for nothing can .fill, much less ex* tend the soul of man, but God, and the con- templation of God ; and therefore Solomon, speaking of the two principal senses of inqui- sition, the eye and the ear, affirmeth that the eye is never satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with hearing ; and if there be no fulness, then is the continent greater than the content: so of knowledge itself, and the mind of man, whereto the senses are but reporters, he de- fineth likewise in these words, placed after that calendar or ephemerides, which he maketh of the diversities of times and sea- sons for all actions and purposes ; and con- cludeth thus : God hath made all things beau+ tiful, or decent, in the true return of their sea- sons: Also he hath placed the world in man's heart, yet cannot man find out the work which 12 God ivorketk from the beginning to the end: declaring, not obscurely, that God hath fram- ed the mind of man as a mirror, or glass, ca- pable of the image of the universal world, and joyful to receive the impression thereof, as the eye joyeth to receive light; and not only delighted in beholding the variety of things, and vicissitude of times, but raised also to find out and discern the ordinances and de- crees, which throughout all those changes are infallibly observed. And although he doth insinuate, that the supreme or summary law of nature, which he calleth, The ivork which God worketh from the beginning to the end, is not possible to be found out by man ; yet that doth not derogate from the capacity of the mind, but may be referred to the impedi- ments, as of shortness of life, ill conjunction of labours, ill tradition of knowledge over from hand to hand, and many other incon- veniencies, whereunto the condition of man is subject. For that nothing parcel of the world is denied to man's inquiry and inven- tion, he doth in another place rule over, when he saith, The spirit of man is as the lamp of God, wherewith he searcheth the in- 13 wariness of all secrets. If then such be the capacity and receipt of the mind of man, it is manifest, that there is no danger at all in the proportion or quantity of knowledge, how large soever, lest it should make it swell or out compass itself; no, but it is merely the quality of knowledge, which be it in quan- tity more or less, if it be taken without the corrective thereof, hath in it some nature of venom or malignity, and some effects of that venom, which is ventosity or swelling. This corrective spice, the mixture whereof maketh knowledge so sovereign, is charity, which the apostle immediately addeth to the former clause ; for so he saith, knowledge bloiveth up, but charity buildeth up; not unlike unto that which he delivereth in another place : If I spake, saith he, with the tongues of men and an- gels, and had not charity, it voere but as a tink- ling cymbal; not but that it is an excellent thing to speak with the tongues of men and angels, but because, if it be severed from charity, and not referred to the good of men and mankind, it hath rather a sounding and unworthy glory, than a meriting and sub- stantial virtue. And as for that censure of 14 Solomon, concerning the excess of writing and reading books, and the anxiety of spirit which redoundeth from knowledge ; and that admonition of St. Paul, That we be not seduced hy vain philosophy ; let those places be rightly understood, and they do indeed excellently set forth the true bounds and limitations, whereby human knowledge is confined and circumscribed; and yet without any such contracting or coarctation, but that it may comprehend all the universal nature of things ; The proper f or these limitations are three ; the first, that bounds of knowledge. W e do not so place our felicity in knowledge, as to forget our mortality. The second, that we make application of our knowledge, to giye ourselves repose and contentment, and not distaste or repining. The third, that we do not presume by the contemplation of na- ture to attain to the mysteries of God. For as touching the first of these, Solomon doth excellently expound himself in another place of the same book, where he saith ; / satv well that knowledge recedeth as far from Ignorance, as light doth from darkness ; and that the wise man's eyes keep watch in his head, whereas the fool roundeth about in darkness : but withal I 15 learned, that the same mortality involveth them both. And for the second, certain it is, there, is no vexation or anxiety of mind, which re- sulteth from knowledge, otherwise than mere- ly by accident; for all knowledge, and won- der (which is the seed of knowledge) is an im- J pression of pleasure in itself: but ...when men fall to framing conclusions out of their know- ledge, applying it to their particular, and mi- nistring to themselves thereby weak fears, or vast desires, there groweth that carefulness and trouble of mind which is spoken of: for then knowledge is no more Lumen siccum, whereof Heraclitus, the profound, said, Lu-. men siccum optima anima; but it becometh Lumen madidum, or maceratum, being steeped and infused in the humours of the affections; And as for the third point, it deserveth to be The contem- ,.-,-, t iTii plation of se- a little stood upon, and not to be lightly pass- cond causes does not lea the gross and palpable flattery, whereunto many not unlearned have abased and abused their wits and pens, turning, as Du Bartas saith> Hecuba into Helena, and Faustina into Lucretia, hath most diminished the price and estimation of learning. Nei- ther is the modern dedication of books and 44 writings, as to patrons, to be commended: for that books, such as are worthy the name of books, ought to have no patrons but truth and reason. And the ancient custom was, to dedicate them only to private and equal friends, or to intitle the books with their names ; or if to kings and great persons, it was to some such as the argument of the book was fit and proper for : but these and the like courses may deserve rather repre- hension than defence. Not that I can tax or condemn the mori- geration or application of learned men to men in fortune. For the answer was good that Diogenes made to one that asked him in mockery, " How it came to pass that philo- " sophers were the followers of rich men, " and not rich men of philosophers?" He answered soberly, and yet sharply, " Be- " cause the one sort knew what they had " need of, and the other did not/' And of the like nature was the answer which Ari- stippus made, when having a petition to Dionysius, and no ear given to him, he fell down at his feet 5 whereupon Dionysius staid, and gave him the hearing, and granted it ; 45 and afterward some person, tender on the behalf of philosophy, reproved Aristippus, that he would offer the profession of philo- sophy such an indignity, as for a private suit to fall at a tyrant's feet : but he answered, " It was not his fault, but it was the fault of Dionysius that he had his ears in his feet." Neither was it accounted weakness, but dis- cretion in him that would not dispute his best with Adrianus Csesar; excusing him- self, " That it was reason to yield to him " that commanded thirty legions." These and the like applications, and stooping to points of necessity and convenience, cannot be disallowed : for though they may have some outward baseness, yet in a judgment truly made, they are to be accounted submis* sions to the occasion, and not to the person. THREE DISTEMPERS OF LEARNING. Now I proceed to those errors and vani- ties which have intervened amongst the stu- dies themselves of the learned, which is that which is principal and proper to the present argument ; wherein my purpose is not to 4G make a justification of the errors, but, by a censure and separation of the errors, to make a justification of that which is good and sound, and to deliver that from the asper- sion of the other. For we see, that it is the manner of men to scandalize and deprave that which retaineth the state and virtue, by taking advantage upon that which is corrupt and degenerate : as the heathens in the pri- mitive church used to blemish and taint the Christians with the faults and corruptions of hereticks. But nevertheless I have no mean- ing at this time to make any exact animad- version of the errors and impediments in matters of learning, which are more secret and remote from vulgar opinion, but only to speak unto such as do fall under or near unto a popular observation. There be therefore chiefly three vanities in studies, whereby learning hath been most traduced. For those things we do esteem vain, which are either false or frivolous, those which either have no truth, or no use : and those persons we esteem vain, which are either credulous or curious ; and curiosity is either iu matter or words : so that in reason, as well 47 as in experience, there fall out to be these three distempers, as T may term them, of learning ; the first, fantastical learning ; the second, contentious learning ; and the last, delicate learning ; vain imaginations, vain altercations, and vain affectation ; and with the last I will begin, Martin Luther, conducted no doubt by an of de ^' cate higher providence, but in discourse of reason, ^^affecS finding what a province he had undertaken Uons * against the bishop of Rome and the degene- rate traditions of the church, and finding his own solitude, being no ways aided by the opinions of his own time, was enforced to awake all antiquity, and to call former times to his succour, to make a party against the present time. So that the ancient authors, both in divinity and in humanity, which had long time slept in libraries, began generally to be read and revolved. This by conse- quence did draw on a necessity of a more exquisite travel in the languages original, wherein those authors did write, for the bet- ter understanding of those authors, and the better advantage of pressing and applying their words. And thereof grew again a delight 48 in their manner of style and phrase, and an admiration of that kind of writing ; which was much furthered and precipitated by the enmity and opposition that the propounders of those primitive, but seeming new opi- nions had against the schoolmen ; who were generally of the contrary part, and whose writings were altogether in a differing stile and form, taking liberty to coin and frame" new terms of art to express their own sense, ^ and to avoid circuit of speech, without regard^ -o to the pureness, pleasantness, and, as I may call it, lawfulness of the phrase or word. The study And again, because the great labour then was of eloquence promoted by w ith the people, (of whom the Pharisees were four causes. A wont to say, Execrabilis ista turba, quiz non novit legem } ) for the winning and persuading of them, there grew of necessity in chief price and request eloquence and variety of discourse, as the fittest and forciblest access into the capacity of the vulgar sort : so that these four causes concurring, the admiration of ancient authors, the hate of the school- men, the exact study of languages, and the efficacy of preaching, did bring in an affect- aftfectionxte ed study of eloquence and copia of speech, 49 which then began to flourish. This grew speedily to an excess ; for men began to hunt more after words than matter ; and more after the choiceness of the phrase, and the round and clean composition of the sen- tence, and the sweet falling of the clauses, and the varying and illustration of their works with tropes and figures, than after the ^> weight of matter, worth of subject, sound- ness of argument, life of invention, or depth ^ of judgment. Then grew the flowing and watry vein of Osorius, the Portugal bishop, to be in price. Then did Sturm ius spend such infinite and curious pains upon Cicero the orator, and Hermogenes the rhetorician, besides his own books of periods, and imi- tation, and the like. Then did Car of Cam- bridge, and Ascham, with their lectures and writings, almost deify Cicero and Demosthe- nes, and allure all young men, that were studious, unto that delicate and polished kind of learning. Then did Erasmus take occasion to make the scoffing echo ; Decern annos con* sumpsi in legendo Cicerone : and the echo an- swered in Greek, "ovs, Asine. Then grew the learning of the schoolmen to be utterly de- E m spised as barbarous. In sum, the whole in- clination and bent of those times was rather towards copid than weight. Here therefore is the first distemper of learning, when men study words, and not matter : whereof though I have represented an example of late times, yet it hath been, and will be secundum majus et minus in all time. And how is it possible but this should have an operation to discredit learning, even with vulgar capacities, when they see learn- ed men's works like the first letter of a pa- tent or limned book ; which though it hath large flourishes, yet it is but a letter? It seems to me that Pygmalion's frenzy is a good emblem or portraiture of this vanity : for words are but the images of matter; and except they have life of reason and inven- tion, to fall in love with them is all one as to fall in love with a picture. How far eio« But yet, notwithstanding, it is a thing not fee useful. hastily to be condemned, to clothe and adorn the obscurity, even of philosophy itself, with sensible and plausible elocution ; for hereof we have great examples in Xenophon, Cicero, Seneca, Plutarch, and of Plato also in some 51 degree; and hereof likewise there is great use : for surely, to the severe inquisition of truth, and the deep progress into philosophy, it is some hindrance ; because it is too early satis- factory to the mind of man, and quencheth the desire of farther search, before we come to a just period: but then if a man be to have any use of such knowledge in civil oc- casions, of conference, counsel, persuasion, discourse, or the like ; then shall he find it prepared to his hands in those authors which write in that manner. But the excess of this is so justly contemptible, that as Hercules, when he saw the image of Adonis, Venus' s minion, in a temple, said in disdain, Nil sacri es ; so there is none of Hercules's fol- lowers in learning, that is, the more severe and laborious sort of inquirers into truth, but will despise those delicacies and affectations, as indeed capable of no divineness, And thus much of the first disease or distemper of learning. The second, which followeth, is in nature $• ^ Of content!- worse than the former : for as substance of °us learning, or vain alter matter is better than beauty of words, so, cations. contrariwise, vain matter is worse than vain 52 words; wherein it seemeth the reprehen- sion of St. Paul was not only proper for those times, but prophetical for the times follow- ing ; and not only respective to divinity, but extensive to all knowledge : Demta profanas vocum novitates, et oppositiones falsi nominis scientice. For he assigneth two marks and Marks of badges of suspected and falsified science : the raise science. one, the novelty and strangeness of terms ; the other, the strictness of positions, which of necessity doth induce oppositions, and so questions and altercations. Surely, like as many substances in nature, which are solid, do putrify and corrupt into worms; so it is the property of good and sound knowledge, to putrify and dissolve into number of subtle, idle, unwholesome, and, as I may term them, vermiculate questions, which have indeed a kind of quickness, and life of spirit, but no soundness of matter, or goodness of quality. This kind of degenerate learning did chiefly reign amongst the schoolmen ; who having sharp and strong wits, and abundance of lei- sure, and small variety of reading, (but their wits being shut up in the cells of a few au- thors, chiefly Aristotle their dictator, as their 53 persons were shut up in the cells of monas- teries and colleges,) and knowing little history, either of nature or time, did out of no great quantity of matter, and infinite agitation of wit, spin out unto us those laborious webs of learning, which are extant in their books. For the wit and mind of man, if it work upon matter, which is the contemplation of the creatures of God, worketh according to the stuffy and is limited thereby : but if it work upon itself, as the spider worketh his web, then it is endless, and brings forth in- deed cobwebs of learning, admirable for the fineness of thread and work, but of no sub- stance or profit. The same unprofitable subtilty or curiosity Two kinds r J J of unprofit- is of two sorts; either in the subject itself able subtlety. that they handle, when it is a fruitless specu- lation or controversy, whereof there are no small number both in divinity and philosophy ; or in the manner or method of handling of a knowledge, which amongst them was this ; upon every particular position or assertion to frame objections, and to those objec- tions, solutions ; which solutions were for the most part not confutations, but distinctions ; 54 whereas indeed the strength of all sciences is, as the strength of the old man's faggot* in the band* For the harmony of a science* supporting each part the other, is and ought to be the true and brief confutation and sup- pression of all the smaller sort of objections. But> on the other side, if you take out every axiom, as the sticks of the faggot, one by one, you may quarrel with them, and bend them, and break them at your pleasure : so that as was said of Seneca, Verhorum minutiis rerum frangit ponder a : so a man may truly say of the schoolmen, Qucestionum minutiis scientiarum frangunt soliditatem. For were it not better for a man in a fair room to set up one great lights or branching candlestick of lights* than to go about with a small watch candle into every corner ? And such is their method, that rests not so much upon evi- dence of truth proved by arguments* author rities, similitudes> examples, as upon parti- cular confutations and solutions of every scru- ple, cavillation, and objection ; breeding for the most part one question, as fast as it solveth another ; even as in the former resemblance, when you carry the light into one corner* you darken the f est : so that the fable and fiction of Scylla seemeth to be a lively image of this kind of philosophy or knowledge ; who was transformed into a comely virgin for the upper parts ; but then, Candida succinctam, latrantibus inguina monstris: so the generali- ties of the schoolmen are for a while good and proportionable ; but then, when you descend into their distinctions and decisions, instead of a fruitful womb, for the use and benefit of man's life, they end in monstrous altercations and barking questions. So as it is not possible but this quality of knowledge must fall under popular contempt, the people being apt to contemn truth upon occasion of controversies and altercations, and to think they are all out of their way which never meet : and when they see such digladiation about subtilties, and matters of no use or moment, they easily fall upon that judgment of Dionysius of Syracuse, Verba ista sunt senum otiosorum* Notwithstanding, certain it is that if those schoolmen, to their great thirst of truth and unwearied travel of wit, had joined va- riety and universality of reading and con- templation, they had proved excellent lights, 56 to the great advancement of all learning and knowledge ; but as they are, they are great undertakers indeed, and fierce with dark keeping t but as in the inquiry of the divine truth, their pride inclined to leave the oracle of God's word, and to vanish in the mixture of their own inventions ; so in the inquisi* tion of nature, they ever left the oracle of God's works, and adored the deceiving and deformed images, which the unequal mirror of their own minds, or a few received authors or principles, did represent unto them. And thus much for the second disease of learn- ing, s. For the third vice or disease of learning, Of fantastical > m learning or which concerneth deceit or untruth, it is of vain imagina- tions, all the rest the foulest; as that which doth destroy the essential form of knowledge, which is nothing but a representation of truth ; for the truth of being and the truth of knowing are one, differing no more than the direct beam and the beam reflected. This vice therefore brancheth itself into two sorts ; delight in deceiving, and aptness to be deceived; imposture and credulity; which, although they appear to be of a diverse na- 57 txire, the one seeming to proceed of cun* ning, and the other of simplicity, yet cer- tainly they do for the most part concur : for as the verse noteth, Percontatorem fugito, nam garrulus idem est : an inquisitive man is a prattler : so upon the like reason, a credulous man is a deceiver t as we see it in fame, that he that will easily believe rumours, will as easily augment ru- mours, and add somewhat to them of his own ; which Tacitus wisely noteth, when he saith, Fingunt simul creduntque : so great an affinity hath fiction and belief. This facility of credit, and accepting or Two kinds of , . . -, . , , , . f credulity. admitting things weakly authorized or war* ranted, is of two kinds, according to the sub- ject: for it is either a belief of history, as the lawyers speak 3 matter of fact ; or else of mat- ter of art and opinion. As to the former, we see the experience and inconvenience of this error in ecclesiastical history ; which hath too easily received and registered reports and narrations of miracles wrought by martyrs, hermits, or monks of the desart, and other holy men, and their relicks, shrines, chapels, and images: which though they had a pas- 58 sage for time, by the ignorance of the peo* pie, the superstitious simplicity of some, and the politic toleration of others holding them but as divine poesies ; yet after a period of time, when the mist began to clear up, they grew to be esteemed but as old wives' fables, impostures of the clergy, illusions of spirits, and badges of antichrist, to the great scan- dal and detriment of religion* So in natural history, we see there hath not been that choice and judgment used as ought to have been ; as may appear in the writings of Plinius, Cardanus, Albertus, and divers of the Arabians, being fraught with much fabulous matter, a great part not only- untried, but notoriously untrue* to the great derogation of the credit of natural philosophy with the grave and sober kind of wits: Diligence and wherein the wisdom and integrity of Aris- Aristotie. totle is worthy to be observed, that, having made so diligent and exquisite a history of living creatures, hath mingled it sparingly with any vain or feigned matter: and yet, on the other side, hath cast all prodigious narrations, which he thought worthy the re- cording, into one book : excellently discern- 59 ing that matter of manifest truth, (such, whereupon observation and rule was to be built,) was not to be mingled or weakened with matter of doubtful credit; and yet again, that rarities and reports that seem in- credible are not to be suppressed or denied to the memory of men. And as for the facility of credit which is Undue credit given to arts. yielded to arts and opinions, it is likewise of two kinds ; either when too much belief is attributed to the arts themselves, or to cer- tain authors in any art. The sciences them- selves* which have had better intelligence and confederacy with the imagination of man than with his reason, are three in number; astrology, natural magic, and al- chemy; of which sciences, nevertheless, the ends or pretences are noble. For astrology pretendeth to discover that correspondence or concatenation, which is between the su- perior globe and the inferior : natural ma- gic pretendeth to call and reduce natural phi- losophy from variety of speculations to the magnitude of works: and alchemy pre- tendeth to make separation of all the unlike parts of bodies, which in mixtures of nature 60 are incorporate. But the derivations and prosecutions to these ends, both in the theo- ries and in the practices, are full of error and vanity ; which the great professors them-* selves have sought to veil over and conceal by enigmatical writings, and referring them* selves to auricular traditions and such other devices, to save the credit of impostors : and yet surely to alchemy this right is due, that it may be compared to the husbandman whereof iEsop makes the fable ; that, when he died, told his sons, that he had left unto them gold buried under ground in his vine- yard ; and they digged over all the ground, and gold they found none ; but by reason of their stirring and digging the mould about the roots of their vines, they had a great vin- tage the year following: so assuredly the search and stir to make gold hath brought to light a great number of good and fruitful in* ventions and experiments* as well for the disclosing of nature, as for the use of man's life, trndue credit Aftd as to the overmuch credit that hath Suthor^. been given unto authors in sciences, in mak- ing them dictators, that their words should 61 stand ; and not consuls, to give advice ; the damage is infinite that sciences have re- ceived thereby, as the principal cause that hath kept them low, at a stay, without growth or advancement. For hence it hath come, that in arts mechanical the first deviser comes shortest, and time addeth and per- fecteth: but in sciences the first author goeth farthest, and time loseth and cor- rupted]. So we see, artillery, sailing, print- ing, and the like, were grossly managed at the first, and by time accommodated and re- fined : but contrariwise, the philosophies and sciences of Aristotle, Plato, Democritus, Hippocrates, Euclides, Archimedes, of most vigour at the first, are by time degenerate and imbased ; whereof the reason is no other, butf that in the former many wits and indus- tries have contributed in one; and in the latter many wits and industries have been spent about the wit of some one, whom many times they have rather depraved than il- lustrated. For as water will not ascend higher than the level of the first spring-head from whence it descendeth, so knowledge derived from Aristotle, and exempted from liberty 62 of examination, will not rise again higher than the knowledge of Aristotle. And there- fore although the position be good, Oportet discentem credere; yet it must be coupled with this, Oportet edoctum judicare; for dis- ciples do owe unto masters only a temporary belief, and a suspension of their own judg- ment till they be fully instructed, and not an absolute resignation, or perpetual cap- tivity : and therefore, to conclude this point, I will say no more, but so let great authors have their due, as time, which is the author of authors, be not deprived of his due, which is, farther and farther to discover truth. VARIOUS ERRORS IN THE PURSUIT OF LEARNING. Thus I have gone over these three diseases of learning; besides the which, there are some other rather peccant humours than formed diseases ; which nevertheless are not so secret and intrinsic, but that they fall un- der a popular observation and traducement, and therefore are not to be passed over. 63 The first of these is the extreme affecting: „ *•. Affectation of of two extremities; the one antiquity, the antiquity; osl other novelty : wherein it seemeth the chil- dren of time do take after the nature and ma- lice of the father. For as he devoureth his children, so one of them seeketh to devour and suppress the other ; while antiquity en- vieth there should be new additions, and no- velty cannot be content to add, but it must deface : surely, the advice of the prophet is the true direction in this matter, State super vias antiquasy et videte quamam sit via recta et bona, et ambulate in ea. Antiquity deserveth that re- verence, that men should make a stand there- upon, and discover what is the best way; but when the discovery is well taken, then to make progression. And to speak truly, An- tiquitas mculi juventus mundi: These times are the ancient times, when the world is an- cient, and not those which we account an- cient ordine retrograde, by a computation backward from ourselves. Another error, induced by the former, is 2. Despair of 1 a distrust that any thing should be now to new truths. be found out, which the world should have missed and passed over so long time ; as if the 6i same objection were to be made to time, that Lucian maketh to Jupiter and other the hea~ then gods ; of which he wondereth that they begot so many children in old time, and begot none in his time ; and asketh whether they were become septuagenary, or whether the law Papia, made against old men's marriages, had restrained them. So it seemeth men doubt lest time is become past children and generation; wherein, contrariwise, we see commonly the levity and inconstancy of men's judgments, which till a matter be done* Wonder that it can be done ; and, as soon as it is done, wonder again that it was no sooner done ; as we see in the expedition of Alexander into Asia, which at first was prejudged as a vast and impossible enter- prise : and yet afterwards it pleaseth Livy to make no more of it than this ; Nil aliud qudm bene ausus est vanq contemnere : and the same Jiappened to Columbus in the western navi* gation. But in intellectual matters it is much more common ; as may be seen in most of the propositions of Euclid: which till they be demonstrated, they seem strange to our as- lent j but being Remonstrated, our mind ac«* 65 cepteth of them by a kind of relation, as the lawyers speak, as if we had known them before. Another error, that hath also some affinity „ ,. 3 - ' J Reliance on with the former, is a conceit that of former received opi opinions or sects, after variety and examina- tion, the best hath still prevailed, and sup- pressed the rest : so as, if a man should be- gin the labour of a new search, he were but like to light upon somewhat formerly re- jected, and by rejection brought into obli^ vion : as if the multitude, or the wisest, for the multitude's sake, were not ready to give passage rather to that which is popular and superficial, than to that which is substantial and profound : for the truth is, that time seemeth to be of the nature of a river or stream, which earrieth down to us that which is light and blown up, and sinketh and drowneth that which is weighty and solid. . Another error, of a diverse nature from all 4. . Reducing the former, is the over early and peremptory knowledge A J into methods. reduction of knowledge into arts and me- thods ; from which time commonly sciences receive small or no augmentation. But as young men, when they knit and shape per- fectly, do seldom grow to a farther stature ; so knowledge, while it is in aphorisms and observations, it is in growth ; but when it once is comprehended in exact methods, it may perchance be farther polished and illus^ trated, and accommodated for use and prac- tice ; but it increaseth no more in bulk and substance. 5. Another error w 7 hich doth succeed that TSTeglect of . universal phi- which we last mentioned, is, that after the losophy. distribution of particular arts and sciences, men have abandoned universality, or philoso- pliia prima; which cannot but cease and stop all progression. For no perfect disco- very can be made upon a flat or a level : nei- ther is it possible to discover the more re- mote and deeper parts of any science, if you stand but upon the level of the same science, and ascend not to a higher science. 6. Another error hath proceeded from too inteiiectu- 16 great a reverence, and a kind of adoration of the mind and understanding of man ; by means whereof, men have withdrawn them- selves too much from the contemplation of nature, and the observations of experience, and have tumbled up and down in their own reason and conceits. Upon these intellect alists. 67 tualists; which are, notwithstanding, com- monly taken for the most sublime and divine philosophers, Heraclitus gave a just censure, saying, " Men sought truth in their own i( little worlds, and not in the great and com-^ " mon world ;" for they disdain to spell, and so by degrees to read in the volume of God's works ; and contrariwise, by continual medi^ tation and agitation of wit, do urge and as it were invocate their own spirits to divine, and give oracles unto them, whereby they are deservedly deluded. Another error that hath some connexion y . , , . , "i i t Intermixture wvth this latter, is tnat men have used to in- of favourite feet their meditations, opinions, and doc^ trines, with some conceits which they have most admired, or some sciences which they have most applied ; and given all things else a tincture according to them, utterly untrue and improper. So hath Plato intermingled his philosophy with theology, and Aristotle with logic ; and the second school of Plato, Proclus and the rest, with the mathematics, For these were the arts which had a kind of primogeniture with them severally. So have the alchemists made a philosophy out of a f2 6S 8. Bogmatism, Perempto- ffiacss. few experiments of the furnace ; and Gilber- tus, our countryman, hath made a philoso- phy out of the observations of a loadstone. So Cicero, when, reciting the several opi- nions of the nature of the soul, he found a musician that held the soul was but a har- mony, saith pleasantly, Hie ab arte sua non recessit, etc. But of these conceits Aristotle speaketh seriously and wisely, when he saith, Qui respieiunt ad pauca de facili pro* nunciant. Another error is an impatience of doubt, and haste to assertion without due and ma- ture suspension of judgment. For the two ways of contemplation are not unlike the two ways of action, commonly spoken of by the ancients; the one plain and smooth in the beginning, and in the end impassable; the other rough and troublesome in the entrance, but after a while fair and even : so it is con- templation ; if a man will begin with certain- ties, he shall end in doubts ; but if he will be content to begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties. Another error is in the manner of the tra- dition and delivery of knowledge, which is 69 for the most part magisterial and peremp- tory, and not ingenuous and faithful; in a sort as may be soonest believed, and not easiliest examined. It is true, that in com- pendious treatises for practice, that form is not to be disallowed. But in the true hand- ling of knowledge, men ought not to fall either, on the one side, into the vein of Vel- leius the Epicurean : Nil tain metuens, qudm ne dubitare aliqua de re videretur : nor, on the other side, into Socrates his ironical doubting of all things ; but to propound things sin- cerely, with more or less asseveration, as they stand in a man's own judgment proved more or less, Other errors there are in the scope that iu-judged men propound to themselves, whereunto they bend their endeavours : for whereas the more constant and devote kind of professors of any science ought to propound to them- selves to make some additions to their science, they convert their labours to aspire to cer- tain second prizes : as to be a profound in- terpreter or commentator; to be a sharp champion or defender; to be a methodical compounder or abridger ; and so the patrr* 70 inony of knowledge cometh t'6 be sometimes improved, but seldom augmented. Mistake of ^ ut ^ e £ reatest error of all the rest, is pur "scT^ 3 ^ e m i s ^ a,Km g or misplacing of the last or farthest end of knowledge i for men have entered into a desire of learning and know^ ledge, sometimes upon a natural curiosity, and inquisitive appetite ; sometimes to en- tertain their minds with variety and delight ; sometimes for ornament and reputation; and sometimes to enable them to victory of wit and contradiction ; and most times for lucre and profession ; and seldom sincerely to give a true account of their gift of reason, to the benefit and use of men : as if there were sought in knowledge a couch, whereupon to rest a searching and restless spirit ; or a terras, for a wandering and variable mind to walk up and down with a fair prospect ; or a tower of state, for a proud mind to raise itself upon ; or a fort or commanding ground> for strife and contention; or a shop* for profit or sale ; and not a rich storehouse, for the glory of the Creator, and the relief of man's iiowtbpur^ estate. But this is that which will indeed sue know- ledge. dignify and exalt knowledge, if contenipla- 71 lion and action may be more nearly and straitly conjoined and united together than they have been; a conjunction like unto that of the two highest planets, Saturn, the planet of rest and contemplation* and Jupi- ter, the planet of civil society and action : howbeit, I do not mean> when I speak of Use and action, that end before-mentioned of the applying of knowledge to lucre and profession ; for I am not ignorant how much that diverteth and interrupteth the prose- cution and advancement of knowledge, like unto the golden ball thrown before Atalanta, which while she goeth aside and stoopeth to take up, the race is hindered; Declinat cursus, aurumque volubile tdllit. Neither is my meaning, as was spoken of Socrates* to call philosophy down from heaven to converse upon the earth ; that is, to leave natural philosophy aside, and to apply know- ledge only to manners and policy. But as both heuven and earth do conspire and contribute to the use and benefit of man; so the end ought to be* from both philoso* phies to separate and reject vain speculat- ions, and whatsoever is empty and void^ n and to preserve and augment whatsoever .is solid and fruitful : that knowledge may not be, as a courtesan, for pleasure and vanity only, or as a bond-woman, to acquire and gain to her master's use ; but as a spouse^ for generation, fruit, and comfort. OF THE DIGNITY OF KNOWLEDGE Thus have I described and opened, as by a kind of dissection, those peccant humours, the principal of them, which have not only given impediment to the proficience of learn- ing, but have given also occasion to the tra- ducement thereof : wherein if I have been too plain, it must be remembered, Fidelia bulnera amantis, sed dohsa oscida malignantis. This, I think, I have gained> that I ought to be the better believed in that which I shall say pertaining to commendation; be- cause I have proceeded so freely in that which concern eth censure. And yet I have no purpose to enter into a laudative of learn- ing, or to make a hymn to the muses ; though I am of opinion that it is long since their 73 rites were duly celebrated: but my intent is, without varnish or amplification, justly to weigh the dignity of knowledge in the ba- lance with other things, and to take the true value thereof by testimonies and argu- ments divine and human. First therefore, let us seek the dignity i. Divine of knowledge in the archetype or first plat- proofs. form, which is in the attributes and acts of God, as far as they are revealed to man, and feisty be observed with sobriety ; wherein we may not seek it by the name of learning ; for all learning is knowledge acquired, and all knowledge in God is original : and therefore we must look for it by another name, that of wisdom or sapience, as the Scriptures call it. It is so then, that in the work of the crea- in the attri. butes and tion we see a double emanation of virtue acts of God. from God ; the one referring more properly to power, the other to wisdom : the one ex- pressed in making the subsistence of the matter, and the other in disposing the beauty of the form. This being supposed, it is to 74 be observed, that, for any thing which ap- peared! in the history of the creation, the confused mass and matter of heaven and earth was made in a moment; and the order and disposition of that chaos or mass was the work of six days ; such a note of dif- ference it pleased God to put upon the works of power, and the works of wisdom : where^ with concurreth, that in the former it is not set down that God said, Let there be heaven and earth, as it is set down of the works fol- lowing ; but actually, that God made heaven and earth : the one carrying the stile of a manufacture, and the other of a law, decree> or council. in the order To proceed to that which is next in or* der, from God to spirits* We find, as far as credit is to be given to the celestial hie- rarchy of that supposed Dionysius the sena- tor of Athens, the first place or degree is given to the angels of love, which are termed Seraphim ; the second to the angels of light, which are termed Cherubim ; and the third, and so following places, to thrones, princi- palities, and the rest, which are all angels "of power and ministry ; so as the angels of 15 knowledge and illumination are placed before the angels of office and domination. To descend from spirits and intellectual f" r ™ s aterial forms to sensible and material forms ; we read the first form that w T as created was light, which hath a relation and correspondence in nature and corporal things to knowledge in spirits and incorporal things. So in the distribution of days, we see, the day wherein God did rest, and contemplate his own works, was blessed above all the days wherein he did effect and accomplish them. After the creation was finished, it is set down unto us, that man was placed in the garden to work therein ; which work, so ap- pointed to him, could be no other than work of contemplation ; that is> when the end of work is but for exercise and experiment, not necessity ; for there being then no relucta- tion of the creature, nor sweat of the brow, man's employment must of consequence have been matter of delight in the experiment, and not matter of labour for the use. Again, the first acts which man performed in pa- radise consisted of the two summary parts of knowledge ; the view of creatures, and 76 the imposition of names. As for the know- ledge which induced the fall, it was, as was touched before, not the natural knowledge of creatures, but the moral knowledge of good and evil ; wherein the supposition was, that God's commandments or prohibitions w r ere not the originals of good and evil, but that they had other beginnings, which man aspired to know ; to the end to make a total defection from God, and to depend wholly upon himself. intiiepH- To pass on : in the first event or occur- mitive occu- pations of rence after the fall of man, we * see, (as the Scriptures have infinite mysteries, not vio- lating at all the truth of the story ot letter,) an image of the two estates, the contempla- tive state and the active state, figured in the two persons of Abel and Cain, and in the two simplest and most primitive trades of life; that of the shepherd, (who, by reason of his leisure, rest in a place, and living in view of heaven, is a lively image of a contemplative life,) and that of the husband- man : where we see again the favour and election of God went to the shepherd,, and ttot to the tiller of the ground. man. 77 So in the age before the flood, the holy records, within those few memorials which are there entered and registered, have vouch- safed to mention arid honour the name of the inventors and authors of music and works in metal. In the age after the flood, the first great judgment of God upon the ambition of man was the confusion of tongues ; whereby the open trade and intercourse of learning and knowledge was chiefly imbarred. To descend to Moses the lawgiver, and In the c J ia - ° racter or God's first pen : he is adorned by the Scrip- Moses * tures with this addition and commendation, that he was seen in all the learning of the ^Egyptians ; which nation, we know, was one of the most ancient schools of the world: for so Plato brings in the ^Egyptian priest saying unto Solon : " You Grecians are " ever children; you have no knowledge " of antiquity, nor antiquity of know- iC ledge." Take a view of the ceremonial law of Moses ; you shall find, besides the prefiguration of Christ, the badge or diffe- rence of the people of God, the exercise and impression of obedience, and other divine ajses and fruits thereof, that some of the 7a most learned Rabbins have travelled profit- ably and profoundly to observe, some of them a natural, some of them a moral sense, or a reduction of many of the ceremonies and ordinances. As in the law of the le- prosy, where it is said, If the ivhiteness have overspread the flesh, the patient may pass abroad for clean ; hut if there he any whole flesh re* maining, he is to he shut up for unclean ; one of them noteth a principle of nature, that putrefaction is more contagious before matu- rity than after: and another noteth a posi- tion of moral philosophy, that men aban- doned to vice do not so much corrupt man- ners, as those that are half- good and half- evil. So in this, and very many other places in that law, there is to be found, besides the theological sense, much aspersion of philosophy. In the writ- ^° hkewise in that excellent book of Job, ingsof job, jf j t -fog revolved with diligence, it will be found pregnant and swelling with natural philosophy j as for example, cosmography, and the roundness of the world: Qui ex-* tendit aquilonem super vacuum, et appendit ter^ ram super nihilum ; wherein the pensileness 79 of the earth, the pole of the north, and the finiteness or convexity of heaven are manifestly touched: So again, matter of astronomy ; Spiritus ejus ornavit ccelos, et ob- stetricante manu ejus eductas est Coluber tor-* tuosus. And in another place ; Nunquid con* jungere valebis micantes Stellas Pleiadas, aut gyrum Arcturi poteris dissipare ? Where the fixing of the stars, ever standing at equal distance, is with great elegancy noted. And in another place, Qui facit Arcturum, et Oriona, et Hyadas, et interiora Austri ; where again he takes knowledge of the depression of the southern pole, calling it the secrets of the south, because the southern stars were in that climate unseen : Matter of generation ; Annon sicut lac mulsisti me, et sicut caseum coagulasti me, etc. Matter of minerals ; Habet argentum venarum suarum principia : et aaro locus est in quo corvflatur, ferritin de terra tol- litur, et lapis solutus colore in as vertitur ; and so forwards in that chapter. So likewise in the person of Solomon the ln the perS0J ^ king, we see the gift or endowment of wis- of Solomou ' dom and learning, both in Solomon's peti- tion, and in God's assent thereunto, preferred 80 before all other terrene and temporal feli- city. By virtue of which grant or donative of God, Solomon became enabled, not only to write those excellent parables, or apho- risms concerning divine and moral philoso- phy ; but also to compile a natural history of all verdure, from the cedar upon the moun- tain to the moss upon the wall, (which is but a rudiment between putrefaction and an herb,) and also of all things that breathe or move. Nay, the same Solomon the king, although he excelled in the glory of trea- sure and magnificent buildings, of shipping and navigation, of service and attendance, of fame and renown, and the like, yet he maketh no claim to any of those glories, but only to the glory of inquisition of truth ; for so he saith expressly, The glory of God is to conceal a tiling, hut the glory of the king is to find it out ; as if, according to the in- nocent play of children, the Divine Majesty took delight to hide his works, to the end to have them found out ; and as if kings could not obtain a greater honour than to be God's playfellows in that game ; considering the ^jreat cornmandment of wits and i means^ 81 whereby nothing needeth to be hidden from them. Neither did the dispensation of God vary in the cha- racter of in the times after our Saviour came into the Jesus. world ; for our Saviour himself did first shew his power to subdue ignorance, by his conference with the priests and doctors of the law, before he shewed his power to subdue nature by his miracles. And the coming of the Holy Spirit was chiefly figured and expressed in the similitude and gift of tongues, which are but vehicula scientiw. So in the election of those instruments, j n the apos- which it pleased God to use for the planta- tion of the faith, notwithstanding that at the first he did employ persons altogether un- learned, otherwise than by inspiration, more evidently to declare his immediate work- ing, and to abase all human wisdom or knowledge ; yet, nevertheless, that counsel of his was no sooner performed, but in the next vicissitude and succession, he did send his divine truth into the world, waited on with other learnings, as with servants or hand-maids : for so we see St. Paul, who was only learned amongst the apostles, had fathers . 82 his pen most used in the Scriptures of the New Testament, in the early $0 again, we find that many of the an- cient bishops and fathers of the church were excellently read, and studied in all the learn- ing of the heathen ; insomuch, that the edict of the emperor Julianus, whereby it was interdicted unto Christians to be admitted into schools, lectures, or exercises of learn- ing, was esteemed and accounted a more pernicious engine and machination against the Christian faith, than were all the san- guinary prosecutions of his predecessors ; neither could the emulation and jealousy of Gregory the First of that name, bishop of Rome, ever obtain the opinion of piety or devotion ; but contrariwise received the cen- sure of humour, malignity, and pusillani- mity, even amongst holy men ; in that he designed to obliterate and extinguish the memory of heathen antiquity and authors. But contrariwise it was the Christian church, which, amidst the inundations of the Scy- thians on the one side from the north-west, and the Saracens from the east, did pre- serve, in the sacred lap and bosom thereof^ the precious relicks even of heathen learn- ing, which otherwise had been extinguished, as if no such thing had ever been. And we see before our eyes, that in the i n the re- age of ourselves and our fathers, when it orma pleased God to call the church of Rome to account for their degenerate manners and ceremonies, and sundry doctrines obnoxious, and framed to uphold the same abuses ; at one and the same time it was ordained by the divine providence, that there should at- tend withal a renovation, and new spring of all other knowledges : and, on the other side, we see the Jesuits, (who partly in them^ selves, and partly by the emulation and pro- vocation of their example, have much quick- ened and strengthened the state of learn- ing,) we see, I say, what notable service and reparation they have done to the Roman see. Wherefore, to conclude this part, let it be Two chief observed, that there be two principal duties learning to , . , religion. and services, besides ornament and illustra- tion, which philosophy and human learn- ing do perform to faith and religion. The g 2 84 one, because they are an effectual induce- ment to the exaltation of the glory of God. For as the Psalms and other Scriptures do often invite us to consider, and magnify the great and wonderful works of God ; so if we should rest only in the contemplation of the exterior of them, as they first offer themselves to our senses, we should do a like injury unto the majesty of God, as it we should judge or construe of the store of some excellent jeweller, by that only which is set out toward the street in his shop. The other, because they minister a singular help and preservative against unbelief and error : for our Saviour saith, You err, not knoiving the Scriptures, nor the power of God; laying before us two books or volumes to study, if we will be secured from error; first, the Scriptures, revealing the will of God ; and then the creatures expressing his power : whereof the latter is a key unto the former : not only opening our understand- ing to conceive the true sense of the Scrip- tures, by the general notions of reason and rules of speech ; but chiefly opening our belief, in drawing us into a due medita- 85 tion of the omnipotency of God, which is chiefly signed and engraven upon his works. Thus much therefore for divine testimony and evidence, concerning the true dignity and value of learning. As for human proofs, it is so large a field, ^oofs* as, in a discourse of this nature and brevity, it is fit rather to use choice of those things of an immor- which we shall produce, than to embrace the variety of them. First, therefore, in the de- grees of human honor amongst the heathen, it was the highest to obtain to a veneration and adoration as a God. This unto the Christians is as the forbidden fruit. But we speak now separately of human testimony; according to which, that which the Grecians call apotheosis, and the Latins, relatio inter divos, was the supreme honour which man could attribute unto man ; especially when it was given, not by a formal decree or act of state, as it was used among the Roman em- perors, but by an inward assent and belief. Which honour being so high had also a de- gree or middle term : for there were reckoned, above human honors, honors heroical and divine : in the attribution and distribution of which honors, we see, antiquity made this difference : that whereas founders and uniters of states and cities, lawgivers, extirpers of tyrants, fathers of the people, and other eminent persons in civil merit, were honor- ed but with the titles of worthies or demi- gods ; such as were Hercules, Theseus, Minos, Romulus, and the like : on the other side, such as were inventors and authors of new arts, endowments, and commodities towards man's life, were ever consecrated amongst the gods themselves : as were Ceres, Bacchus, Mercurius, Apollo, and others ; and justly : for the merit of the former is confined with- in the circle of an age or a nation ; and is like fruitful showers, which though they be profitable and good, yet serve but for that season, and for a latitude of ground where they fall; but the other is indeed like the be- nefits of heaven, which are permanent and universal. The former, again, is mixed with strife and perturbation ; but the latter hath the true character of divine presence, com- ing in aura leni, without noise or agitation. Se S pas d siin?. Neither is certainly that other merit of learning, in repressing the inconveniencies 87 which grow from man to man, much inferior to the former, of relieving the necessities which arise from nature ; which merit was lively set forth by the ancients in that feign- ed relation of Orpheus's theatre, where all beasts and birds assembled, and, forgetting their several appetites, some of prey, some of game, some of quarrel, stood all sociably together listening to the airs and accords of the harp ; the sound whereof no sooner ceased, or was drowned by some louder noise, but every beast returned to his own nature : wherein is aptly described the nature and condition of men, who are full of savage and unreclaimed desires of profit, of lust, of re- venge ; which as long as they give ear to pre- cepts, to laws, to religion, sweetly touched with eloquence and persuasion of books, of sermons, of harangues, so long is society and peace maintained; but if these instru- ments be silent, or that sedition and tumult make them not audible, all things dissolve into anarchy and confusion. But this appeareth more manifestly, when in its use- . . fulness to kings themselves, or persons of authority un- princes. der them, or other governors in common- wealths and popular estates, are endued with learning. For although he might be thought partial to his own profession, that said, " Then should people and estates be happy, r ? when either kings were philosophers, or " philosophers kings 5" yet so much is ve- rified by experience, that under learned princes and governors there have been ever the best times : for howsoever kings may have their imperfections in their passions and customs ; yet if they be illuminated by learning, they have those notions of religion, policy, and morality, which do preserve them, and refrain them from all ruinous and peremptory errors and excesses ; whispering evermore in their ears, when counsellors and servants stand mute and silent. And se- nators or counsellors likewise, which be learned, do proceed upon more safe and sub- stantial principles, than counsellors which are only men of experience; the one sort keeping dangers afar off, whereas the other discover them not till they come near hand> and then trust to the agility of their wit to ward off or avoid them. Which felicity of times under learned princes, (to keep still the law of brevity, by Exemplified •. , . in the hap- using the most eminent and selected exam- piest period _ , -i i • i of the Roman pies,) doth best appear in the age which empire- passed from the death of Domitian the em- peror until the reign of Commodus; com- prehending a succession of six princes, all learned, or singular favourers and advancers of learning; which age, for temporal re- spects, was the most happy and flourishing that ever the Roman empire, which then was a model of the world, enjoyed: a matter re- vealed and prefigured unto Domitian in a dream, the night before he was slain ; for he thought there was grown behind upon his shoulders a neck and a head of gold : which came accordingly to pass in those golden times which succeeded ; of which princes we will make some commemoration : wherein although the matter will be vulgar, and may be thought fitter for a declamation than agreeable to a treatise enfolded as this is, yet because it is pertinent to the point in hand, neque semper arcum tendit Apollo, and to name them only were too naked and cursory, I will not omit it altogether. The first was Nerva ; the excellent temper in Neiva. 90 of whose government is by a glance in Cor- nelius Tacitus touched to the life : Postquam divus Nerva res olim insociabiles miscuisset, im- perium et libertatem. And in token of his learning, the last act of his short reign, left to memory, was a missive to his adopted son Trajan, proceeding upon some inward dis- content at the ingratitude of the times, com- prehended in a verse of Homer's : Telis, Phcebe, tuis lacrymas ulciscere nostras. in Trajan. Trajan, who succeeded, was for his per- son not learned : but if we will hearken to the speech of our Saviour, that saith, He that receiveth a prophet in the name of a pro- phet, shall have a prophet's reward, he de- serveth to be placed amongst the most learn- ed princes ; for there was not a greater ad- mirer of learning, or benefactor of learning; a founder of famous libraries, a perpetual advancer of learned men to office, and a fa- miliar converser with learned professors and preceptors, who were noted to have then most credit in court. On the other side, how. much Trajan's virtue and government was admired and renowned, surely no testimony of grave and faithful history doth more lively 91 set forth, than that legend tale of Gregorius Magnus, bishop of Rome, who was noted for the extreme envy he bore towards all heathen excellency : and yet he is reported, out of the love and estimation of Trajan's moral virtues, to have made unto God pas- sionate and fervent prayers for the delivery of his soul out of hell : and to have obtained it, with a caveat that he should make no more such petitions. In this prince's time also, the persecutions against the Christians received intermission, upon the certificate of Plinius Secundus, a man of excellent learn- ing, and by Trajan advanced. Adrian, his successor, was the most curi- In Adnam ous man that lived, and the most universal inquirer ; insomuch as it was noted for an error in his mind, that he desired to compre- hend all things, and not to reserve himself for the worthiest things ; falling into the like humour that was long before noted in Philip of Macedon ; who, when he would needs over-rule and put down an excellent musi- cian, in an argument touching music, was well answered by him again, " God forbid, " Sir," saith he, " that your fortune should 92 " be so bad, as to know these things better " than I." It pleased God likewise to use the curiosity of this emperor as an induce- ment to the peace of his church in those days. For having Christ in veneration, not as a God or Saviour, but as a wonder or no- velty ; and having his picture in his gallery, matched it with Apollonius, with whom, in his vain imagination, he thought he had some conformity; yet it served the turn to allay the bitter hatred of those times against the christian name, so as the church had peace during his time. And for his govern- ment civil, although he did not attain to that of Trajan's in the glory of arms, or per- fection of justice, yet in deserving of the weal of the subject he did exceed him. For Tra- jan erected many famous monuments and buildings ; insomuch as Constantine the Great in emulation was wont to call him Parieta- ria, wall-flower, because his name was upon so many walls: but his buildings and works were more of glory and triumph than use and necessity. But Adrian spent his whole reign, which was peaceable, in a perambu- lation or survey of the Roman empire ; giv- 93 ing order, and making assignation where he went, for re-edifying of cities, towns, and forts decayed, and for cutting of rivers and streams, and for making bridges and pas- sages, and for policying of cities and com- monalties with new ordinances and consti- tutions, and granting new franchises and incorporations ; so that his whole time was a very restoration of all the lapses and decays of former times. Antoninus Pius, who succeeded him, was in Antoni- nus Pius, a prince excellently learned; and had the patient and subtle wit of a schoolman ; inso- much as in common speech, which leaves no virtue untaxed, he was called cymini sector, a carver, or a divider of cumin seed, which is one of the least seeds ; such a patience he had and settled spirit, to enter into the least and most exact diiFerences of causes, a fruit no doubt of the exceeding tranquillity and serenity of his mind ; which being no ways charged or incumbered, either with fears, remorses, or scruples, but having been noted for a man of the purest goodness, without all fiction or affectation, that hath reigned or lived, made his mind continually present 94 and intire. He likewise approached a de- gree nearer unto Christianity, and became, as Agrippa said unto St. Paul, half a Chris- tian; holding their religion and law in good opinion, and not only ceasing persecution, but giving way to the advancement of Christians. _ _ _ Tr There succeeded him the first dim fr aires, In L. C. Ve- u ' rus, and m. j-]^ ^- wo a( j ptive brethren, Lucius Commo- wus dus Verus, (son to iElius Verus, who delight- ed much in the softer kind of learning, and was wont to call the poet Martial his Virgil,) and Marcus Aurelius Antoninus ; whereof the latter, who obscured his colleague and survived him long, was named the philoso- pher : who as he excelled all the rest in learn- ing, so he excelled them likewise in perfec- tion of all royal virtues ; insomuch as Ju- lianus the emperor, in his book intitled Casares, being as a pasquin or satire to de- ride all his predecessors, feigned that they were all invited to a banquet of the gods, and Silenus the Jester sat at the nether end of the table, and bestowed a scoff on every one as they came in ; but when Marcus Phi- losophies came in, Silenus was gravelled, and 95 out of countenance, not knowing where to carp at him, save at the last he gave a glance at his patience towards his wife. And the virtue of this prince, continued with that of his predecessor, made the name of Antoni- nus so sacred in the world, that though it were extremely dishonoured in Commodus, Caracalla, and Heliogabalus, who all bore the name, yet when Alexander Severus re- fused the name, because he was a stranger to the family, the Senate with one acclama- tion said, Quo modo Augustus, sic et Antoninus. In such renown and veneration was the name of these two princes in those days, that they would have had it as a perpetual addition in all the emperor's stiles. In this emperor's time also the church for the most part was in peace ; so as in this sequence of six princes we do see the blessed effects of learning in sovereignty, painted forth in the greatest table of the world. But for a tablet, or picture of smaller vo- In Queen lume, not presuming to speak of your ma- Ellzabetkk jesty that liveth, in my judgment the most excellent is that of queen Elizabeth, your immediate predecessor in this part of Britain ; 96 a princess that, if Plutarch were now alive to write lives by parallels, would trouble him, T think, to find for her a parallel amongst women. This lady was endued with learning in her sex singular, and great even amongst masculine princes; whether we speak of learning, of language, or of science, modern or ancient, divinity or humanity r and unto the very last year of her life she accustomed to appoint set hours for reading j scarcely any young student in an university more daily, or more duly. As for her govern- ment, I assure myself, I shall not exceed, if I do affirm that this part of the island never had forty -five years of better times; and yet not through the calmness of the season, but through the wisdom of her re- gimen. For if there be considered of the one side, the truth of religion established ; the con- stant peace and security; the good admi- nistration of justice ; the temperate use of the prerogative, not slackened, nor much strained; the flourishing state of learning, sortable to so excellent a patroness ; the con- venient estate of wealth and means, both 97 of crown and subject ; the habit of* obedi- ence, and the moderation of discontents: and there be considered, on the other side, the differences of religion, the troubles of neighbour countries, the ambition of Spain, and opposition of Rome ; and then, that she was solitary, and of herself: these things, I say, considered, as I could not have chosen an instance so recent and so proper, so, I suppose, I could not have chosen one more remarkable or eminent to the purpose now in hand, which is concerning the con- junction of learning in the prince with feli- city in the people. Neither hath learning an influence and 1. i Its influence operation only upon civil merit and moral on martial virtues. virtue, and the arts or temperature of peace and peaceable government ; but likewise it hath no less power and efficacy in en- ablement towards martial and military vir- tue and prowess; as may be notably re- presented in the examples of Alexander the great, and Caesar the dictator, mentioned be- fore, but now in fit place to be resumed ; of whose virtues and acts in war there needs no note or recital, having been the wonders H 9S of time in that kind : but of their affec- tions towards learning, and perfections in learning, it is pertinent to say somewhat. in Aiexan* Alexander was bred and taught under Aristotle the great philosopher, who dedi- cated divers^ophisCbooks of philosophy unto him : he A attended with Callisthenes and divers other learned persons, that followed him in camp, throughout his journeys and conquests. What price and estimation he had learning in doth notably appear in these three particulars : first, in the envy he used to express that he bore towards Achilles, in this, that he had so good a trumpet of his praises as Homer's verses: secondly, in the judgment or solution he gave touching that precious cabinet of Darius, which was found amongst his jewels; whereof question was made what thing was worthy to be put into it, and he gave his opinion for Homer's works : thirdly, in his letter to Aristotle, after he had set forth his books of nature, wherein he expostulate th with him for publishing the secrets or mysteries of philosophy ; and gave him to understand that himself esteemed it more to excel other £9 men in learning and knowledge,, than in power and empire. And what use he had of learning* doth appear, or rather shine, in all his speeches and answers, being full of sci- ence and use of science, and that in all variety. 33^^ ' And here again it may seem a thing scholastical, and somewhat idle, to recite- things that every man knoweth; but yet, since the argument I handle leadeth me thereunto, I am glad that men shall per- ceive I am as willing to flatter, if they will so call it, an Alexander, or a Caesar, or an Antoninus, that are dead many hun- dred years since, as any that now liveth : for it is the displaying the glory of learn- ing in sovereignty that I propound to myself, and not an humour of declaiming in any man's praises. Observe then the speech he used of Diogenes, and see if it tend not to the true state of one of the greatest questions of moral philosophy ; whether the enjoying of outward things, or the contemn- ing of them, be the greatest happiness : for when he saw Diogenes so perfectly con- tented with so little, he said to those that h 2 100 mocked at his condition; "Were I not Alexander, I would wish to be Diogenes.'* But Seneca inverteth it, and saith ; Plus eratj quod hie nollet accipere, qudm quod ilk posset dare. " There were more things f l which Diogenes would have refused, than " those were, which Alexander could have H. given or enjoyed." Observe again that speech which was usual with him, " That he felt his mortality chiefly " in two things, sleep and lust;" and see if it were not a speech extracted out of the depth of natural philosophy, and liker to have come out of the mouth of Aristotle* or Democritus, than from Alexander. See again that speech of humanity and poesy ; when upon the bleeding of his wounds, he called unto him one of his flat- terers, that was wont to ascribe to him divine honor, and said, " Look, this is very " blood; this is not such liquor as Homer " speaketh of, which ran from VenusVhand, " when it was pierced by Diomedes." See likewise his readiness in reprehension of logic, in the speech he used to Cassander, upon a complaint that was made against 101 his father Antipater: for when Alexander happened to say/ *' Do you think these men " would have come from so far to complain, 55 except they had just cause of grief?" And Cassander answered, f € Yea, that was " the matter, because they thought they " should not be disproved." Said Alexander laughing : " See the subtilties of Aristotle, " to take a matter both ways, pro et con- " tra," etc. But note again how well he could use the same art, which he reprehended, to serve his own humour: when bearing a se- cret grudge to Callisthenes, because he was against the new ceremony of his adoration, feasting one night where the same Callis- thenes was at the table, it was moved by some after supper, for entertainment sake, that Callisthenes, who was an eloquent man, might, speak of some theme or purpose, at his own choice : which Callisthenes did ; choosing the praise of the Macedonian na- tion for his discourse, and performing the same with so good manner, as the hearers were much ravished : whereupon Alexander, nothing pleased, said, " It was easy to be 102 46 eloquent upon so good a subject. But/* saith he, " turn your stile, and let us hear ff what you can say against us :" which Callisthenes presently undertook, and did with that sting and life, that Alexander in- terrupted him, and said, « The goodness of 4C the cause made him eloquent before, and f* despite made him eloquent then again." Consider farther, for tropes of rhetoric, that excellent use of a metaphor or trans- lation, wherewith he taxed Antipater, who was an imperious and tyrannous governor : for when one of Antipater's friends com- mended him to Alexander for his modera- tion, that he did not degenerate, as his other lieutenants did, into the Persian pride in use of purple, but kept the ancient habit of Macedon, of black : " True," saith Alex- ander, " but Antipater is all purple within." Or that other, when Parmenio came to him in the plain of Arbela, and shewed him the innumerable multitude of his enemies, espe- cially as they appeared by the infinite num- ber of lights, as it had been a new firma- ment of stars, and thereupon advised him to assail them by night : whereupon he 103 answered, " That he would not steal the victory." For matter of policy weigh that significant distinction, so much in all ages embraced, that he made between his two friends, He- phsestion and Craterus, when he said, '* That " the one loved Alexander, and the other " loved the king : describing the principal difference of princes best servants, that some in affection love their person, and others in duty love their crown. Weigh also that excellent taxation of an error, ordinary with counsellors of princes, that they counsel their masters according to the model of their own mind and fortune, and not of their masters; when, upon Da- rius's great offers, Parmenio had said, " Surely " I would accept these offers, were I as Alex- " ander ;" saith Alexander, " So would I, " were I as Parmenio." Lastly, weigh that quick and acute reply, which he made when he gave so large gifts to his friends and servants, and was asked what he did reserve for himself, and he an- swered, " Hope :" weigh, I say, whether he had not cast up his account right, because 104 hope must be the portion of all that resolve upon great enterprises. For this was Caesar's portion when he went first into Gaul, his estate being then utterly overthrown with largesses. And this was likewise the portion of that noble prince, howsoever transported with ambition, Henry duke of Guise, of whom it was usually said, that he was the greatest usurer in France, because he had turned all his estate into obligations. To conclude therefore : as certain critics are used to say hyperbolically, <( That if all " sciences were lost, they might be found " in Virgil;" so certainly this may be said truly, there are the prints and footsteps of all learning in those few speeches which are reported of this prince : the admiration of whom, when I consider him not as Alex- ander the great, but as Aristotle's scholar, hath carried me too far. in Caesar. As f° r Julius Caesar, the excellency of his learning needeth not to be argued from his education, or his company, or his speeches ; but in a farther degree doth declare itself in his writings and works ; whereof some are extant and permanent and some unfor- 105 Innately perished. For, first, we see, there is left unto us that excellent history of his own wars, which he intitled only a com- mentary, wherein all succeeding times have admired the solid weight of matter, and the real passages and lively images of actions and persons, expressed in the greatest pro- priety of words and perspicuity of narra- tion that ever was ; which that it was not the effect of a natural gift, but of learn- ing and precept, is well witnessed by that work of his, intitled, De analogia, being a grammatical philosophy, wherein he did la- bour to make this same vox ad placitum to be become vox ad licitum, and to reduce custom of speech to congruity of speech ; and took, as it were, the picture of words from the life of reason. So we receive from him, as a monument both of his power and learning, the then reformed computation of the year ; well ex- pressing, that he took it to be as great a glory to himself to observe and know the law of the heavens, as to give law to men upon the earth. £o likewise in that book of his, Anti-^ 106 Cato, it may easily appear that he did as- pire as well to victory of wit as victory of war; undertaking therein a conflict against the greatest champion with the pen that then lived, Cicero the orator. So again in his book of Apophthegms, which he collected, we see that he esteemed it more honor to make himself but a pair of tables, to take the wise and pithy words of others, than to have every word of his own to be made an apophthegm or an oracle ; as vain princes, by custom of flat- tery, pretend to do. And yet if I should enumerate divers of his speeches, as I did those of Alexander, they are truly such as Solomon noteth, when he saith, Verba sa~ pientum tanquam aculei, et tanquam clavi in altum defixi : whereof, I will only recite three, not so delectable for elegancy, but admirable for vigour and efficacy. As first, it is reason he be thought a master of words, that could with one word appease a mutiny in his army, which was thus : The Romans, when their generals did speak to their army, did use the word Militcs, but when the magistrates spake to 107 to the people, they did use the word Quirites. The soldiers were in tumult, and seditiously prayed to be cashiered ; not that they so meant, but by expostulation thereof to draw Caasar to other conditions ; wherein he being resolute not to give way, after some silence, he began his speech, Ego, Quirites : which did admit them already cashiered ; wherewith they were so sur- prised, crossed, and confused, as they would not suffer him to go on in his speech, but relinquished their demands, and made it their suit to be again called by the name of Milites. The second speech was thus: Caesar did extremely affect the name of king ; and some were set on, as he passed by, in popu- lar acclamation to salute him king; where- upon, finding the cry weak and poor, he put it off thus, in a kind of jest, as if they had mistaken his sirname ; Non rex sum, sed C&sar ; a speech, that if it be searched, the life and fulness of it can scarce be ex- pressed : for, first, is was a refusal of the name, but yet not serious : again, it did signify an infinite confidence and magna- 108 nimity, as if he presumed .Caesar was the greater title; as by his worthiness it is come to pass till this day: but chiefly, it was a speech of great allurement toward his own purpose; as if the state did strive with him but for a name, whereof mean families were vested ; for Rex was a surname with the Romans, as well as King is with us. The last speech which I will mention, was used to Metellus ; when Caesar, after war de- clared, did possess himself of the city of Rome ; at which time entering into the inner treasury to take the money there accumu- lated, Metellus, being tribune, forbad him : whereto Caesar said, " That if he did not f desist, he would lay him dead in the '£ place," And presently taking himself up, he added, " Young man, it is harder " for me to speak it, than to do it ;" Ado- lescens, durius est mihi hoc dicere qudm fa- cere. A speech compounded of the greatest terror and greatest clemency that could pro- ceed out of the mouth of man. \ But to return, and conclude with him : it is evident, himself knew well his own per- fection in learning, and took it upon him ; 103 as appeared when, upon occasion that some spake what a strange resolution it was in Lucius Sylla to resign his dictature ; he scof- fing at him, to his own advantage, answered, ee That Sylla could not skill of letters, and ec therefore knew not how to dictate." And here it were fit to leave this point, Extraordinary instance in touching the concurrence of military virtue Xenophon. and learning, for what example would come with any grace after those two of Alexander and Caesar? were it not in regard of the rareness of circumstance, that I find in one particular, as that which did so suddenly pass from extreme scorn to extreme wonder ; and it is of Xenophon the philosopher, who w r ent from Socrates's school into Asia, in the expedition of Cyrus the younger, against king Artaxerxes. This Xenophon at that time was very young, and never had seen the wars before ; neither had any command in the army, but only followed the war as a vo- luntary, for the love and conversation of Proxenus his friend. He was present w r hen Falinus came in message from the great king to the Grecians, after that Cyrus was slain in the field, and they a handful of men left to no themselves in the midst of the king's territo- ries, cut off from their country by many na- vigable rivers, and many hundred miles. The message imported, that they should de- liver up their arms, and submit themselves to the king's mercy. To which message be- fore answer was made, divers of the army conferred familiarly with Falinus: and amongst the rest Xenophon happened to say, " Why, Falinus, we have now but these " two things left, our arms and our virtue ? " and if we yield up our arms, how shall we " make use of our virtue ?" Whereto Falinus, smiling on him, said, " If I be not deceived, " young gentleman, you are an Athenian, " and, I believe, you study philosophy, and " it is pretty that you say; but you are " much abused, if you think your virtue can " withstand the king's power." Here was the scorn : the wonder followed ; which was, that this young scholar, or philosopher, after all the captains were murdered in parley by treason, conducted those ten thousand foot, through the heart of all the king's high coun- tries, from Babylon to Graecia in safety, in despite of all the king's forces, to the asto- Ill nishment of the world, and the encourage- ment of the Grecians in time succeeding to make invasion upon the kings of Persia ; as was after purposed by Jason the Thessalian, attempted by Agesilaus the Spartan, and at- chieved by Alexander the Macedonian, all upon the ground of the act of that young scholar. To proceed now from imperial and mili- T . . 2 - * * its import- tar y virtue to moral and private virtue : ^ ce al t0 ^ he first, it is an assured truth, which is contain- ^ ate vk " ed in the verses : Scilicet ingenuas didicisse fiddlier artes, Emollit mores, nee sinit esseferos. It taketh away the wildness and barbarism and fierceness of men's minds : but indeed the accent had need be upon fideliter : for a little superficial learning doth rather work a contrary effect. It taketh away all levity, temerity, and insolency, by copious sugges- tion of all doubts and difficulties, and ac- quainting the mind to balance reasons on both sides, and to turn back the first offers and conceits of the mind, and to accept of nothing but examined and tried. It taketh away vain admiration of any thing, which 112 is the root of all weakness: for all things are admired, either because they are new, or because they are great. For novelty, no man that wadeth in learning or contempla- tion throughly, but will find that printed in his heart Nil novi super terrain. Neither can any man marvel at the play of puppets, that goeth behind the curtain, and adviseth weP of the motion. And for magnitude, as Alex- ander the Great after that he was used to great armies, and the great conquests of the spacious provinces in Asia, when he received letters out of Greece, of some fights and ser- vices there, which were commonly for a pas- sage or a fort or some walled town at the most, he said, ec It seemed to him, that he " was advertised of the battle of the frogs " and the mice, that the old tales went of." So certainly, if a man meditate upon the uni- versal frame of nature, the earth with men upon it, the divineness of souls excepted, will not seem much other than an ant-hill, where some ants carry corn, and some carry their young, and some go empty, and all to-and- fro a little heap of dust. It taketh away or mitigate th fear of death, or adverse fortune j' 113 which is one of the greatest impediments of virtue, and imperfections of manners. For if a man's mind be deeply seasoned with the consideration of the mortality and corruptible nature of things, he will easily concur with Epictetus, who went forth one day and saw a woman weeping for her pitcher of earth that was broken ; and went forth the next day, and saw a woman weeping for her son that was dead; and thereupon said, Heri vidi fragilem frangi, hodie vidi mortalem morL And therefore Virgil did excellently and pro- foundly couple the knowledge of causes and the conquest of all fears together, as concomi- tantia : Felix 3 qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas, Quique metus omnes, et inexorabile fatum Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis a van. It were too long to go over the particular remedies which learning doth minister to all the diseases of the mind ; sometimes purging the ill-humours, sometimes opening the ob- structions, sometimes helping digestion, some- times increasing appetite, sometimes healing the wounds and exulcerations thereof, and 1.14 the like ; and therefore I will conclude with that which hath rationem totius, which is, that it disposeth the constitution of the mind not to be fixed or settled in the defects there- of, but still to be capable and susceptible of growth and reformation. For the unlearned man knows not what it is to descend into himself, or to call himself to account ; nor the pleasure of that suavissima vita, indies sentire se fieri meliorem. The good parts he hath he will learn to shew to the full, and use them dexterously, but not much to in- crease them: the faults he hath he will learn how to hide and colour them, but not much to amend them : like an ill mower, that mows on still, and never whets his scythe. Whereas with the learned man it fares otherwise, that he doth ever intermix the correction and amendment of his mind with the use and employment thereof. Nay farther, in general and in sum, certain it is that Veritas and bonitas differ but as the seal and the print : for truth prints goodness ; and they be the clouds of error which descend in the storms of passions and perturbations, From moral virtue let us pass on to matter 115 ©f power and commandment, and consider its help to T>QTITpr whether in right reason there be any com- parable with that, wherewith knowledge in- vested! and crowneth man's nature. We see the dignity of the commandment is accord- ing to the dignity of the commanded : to have commandment over beasts, as herdmen have, is a thing contemptible ; to have com- mandment over children, as schoolmasters have, is a matter of small honor; to have commandment over galley slaves is a dispa- ragement rather than an honor. Neither is the commandment of tyrants much better, over people which have put off the genero- sity of their minds : and therefore it was ever holden, that honors in free monarchies and commonwealths had a sweetness more than in tyrannies, because the commandment ex- tendeth more over the wills of men, and not only over their deeds and services. And therefore, when Virgil putteth himself forth to attribute to Augustus Cassar the best of human honors, he doth it in these words : victor que volentes Perpopulos datjura, viamque affect at Qtympo* 116 But yet the commandment of knowledge is higher than the commandment over the will ; for it is a commandment over the reason, belief, and understanding of man, which is the highest part of the mind, and giveth law to the will itself : for there is no power ©n earth which setteth up a throne or chair of state in the spirits and souls of men, and in their cogitations, imaginations, opinions, and beliefs, but knowledge and learning. And therefore we see the detestable and ex- treme pleasure that arch-heretics, and false prophets, and impostors are transported with, when they once find in themselves that they have a superiority in the faith and conscience of men ; so great, as, if they have once tasted of it, it is seldom seen that any torture or persecution can make them relinquish or abandon it. But as this is what the author of the Revelation calleth the depth or profoundness of Satan; so by argument of contraries, the just and lawful sovereignty over men's understanding, by force of truth rightly interpreted, is that which approacheth nearest to the similitude of the divine rule. To fortune. ^ f or fortune and advancement, the bene- 117 licence of learning is not so confined to give fortune only to states and commonwealths, as it doth not likewise give fortune to particu- lar persons. For it was well noted long ago, that Homer hath given more men their liv- ings, than either Sylla, or Caesar, or Augus- tus ever did, notwithstanding their great largesses and donatives, and distributions of lands to so many legions; and no doubt it is hard to say, whether arms or learning have advanced greater numbers. And in case of sovereignty we see, that if arms or descent have carried away the kingdom, yet learning hath carried the priesthood, which ever hath been in some competition with empire, Again, for the pleasure and delight of To Pleasure. knowledge and learning, it far surpasseth all other in nature : for, shall the pleasures of the affections so exceed the pleasure of the senses, as much as the obtaining of desire or victory exceedeth a song or a dinner; and must not, of consequence, the pleasures of the intellect or understanding exceed the pleasures of the affections ? We see in all other pleasures there is satiety, and after they be used, their verdure departeth ; which 118: sheweth well they be but deceits of pleasure* and not pleasures; and that it was the no- velty which pleased, and not the quality: and therefore we see that voluptuous men turn friers, and ambitious princes turn me- lancholy. But of knowledge there is no sa- tiety, but satisfaction and appetite are per- petually interchangeable ; and therefore it ap- peareth to be good in itself simply, without fallacy or accident. Neither is that pleasure of small efficacy and contentment to the mind of man, which the poet Lucretius de- scribeth elegantly, Suave mari magno, turbantibus aquoraventis, etc. (' It is a view of delight," saith he, " to stand " or walk upon the shore side, and to see " a ship tossed with tempest upon the sea ; " or to be in a fortified tower, and to see two " battles join upon a plain ; but it is plea- " sure incomparable, for the mind of man " to be settled, landed, and fortified in the I refer myself to the particulars ; for the last, touching im- possibility, I take it those things are to be held possible which may be done by some person, though not by every one ; and which may be done by many, though not by any one ; and which may be done in succession of ages, though not within the hour-glass of one man's life ; and which may be done by public designation, though not by private endeavour. But, notwithstanding, if any man will take to himself rather that of Solomon, Dicit piger, Leo est in via, than that of Virgil, Possunt, quia posse videntur ; I shall be content that my labours be esteemed but as the better sort of wishes ; for as it asketh some know- ledge to demand a question not impertinent, so it requireth some sense to make a wish not absurd. THE parts of human learning have re- Distribution of the parts ference to the three parts of man's Under- of Learning. 140 standing, which is the seat of learning : His- tory to his Memory, Poesy to his Imagina- tion, and Philosophy to his Reason. Divine learning receiveth the same distribution ; for the spirit of man is the same, though the revelation of oracle and sense be diverse : so as theology consisteth also of history of the church ; of parables, which is divine poesy ; and of holy doctrine or precept : for as for that part which seemeth supernumerary, which is prophecy, it is but divine history; which hath that prerogative over human^ as the narration may be before the fact as well as after HISTORY. History is Natural, Civil, Ecclesiastical^ and Literary ; whereof the three first I allow 1. as extant, the fourth I note as deficient. For tory. no man hath propounded to himself the ge- neral state of Jearning to be described and represented from age to age, as many have done the works of nature, and the state civil and ecclesiastical ; without which the history 141 of the world seemeth to me to be as the statue of Polyphemus with his eye out ; that part being wanting which doth most shew the spirit and life of the person : And yet I am not ignorant that in divers particular sciences, as of the jurisconsults, the mathematicians, the rhetoricians, the philosophers, there are set down some small memorials of the schools, authors and books; and so likewise some barren relations touching the invention of arts or usages. But a just story of learning, containing the antiquities and originals of knowledges and their sects, their inventions, their traditions, their diverse administrations and managings, their flourishings, their oppositions, decays, depressions, oblivions, removes, with the causes and occasions of them, and all other events concerning learning, throughout the ages of the world, I may truly affirm to be wanting. The use and end of which work I do not so much design for curiosity, or satisfaction of those that are the lovers of learning, but chiefly for a more serious and grave purpose ? which is this in few words, that it will make 142 learned men wise in the use and administra- tion of learning. For it is not St. Augustine's nor St. Ambrose's works that will make so wise a divine as ecclesiastical history tho- roughly read and observed; and the same reason is of learning. ^ a t U rai His- History of Nature is of three sorts ; of na- t0ly * ture in course, of nature erring or varying, and of nature altered or wrought; that is history of creatures, history of marvels, and history of arts. The first of these, no doubt, is extant, and that in good perfection ; the two latter are handled so weakly and unprofitably, as I am moved to note them as deficient. History of ;p or j £ n( j no sufficient or competent col- marvels den- r dent. lection of the works of nature which have a digression and deflexion from the ordinary course of generations, productions, and mo- tions ; whether they be singularities of place and region, or the strange events of time and chance, or the effects of yet unknown pro- perties, or the instances of exception to ge- neral kinds : it is true, I find a number of books of fabulous experiments and secrets, and frivolous impostures for pleasure and strange- 143 ness ; but a substantial and severe collection of the heteroclites or irregulars of nature, well examined and described, I find not, especially not with due rejection of fables and popular errors: for as things now are, if an untruth in nature be once on foot, what by reason of the neglect of examination, and countenance of antiquity, and what by reason of the use of the opinion in similitudes and ornaments of speech, it is never called down. The use of this work, honoured with a precedent in Aristotle, is nothing less than to give contentment to the appetite of curi- ous and vain wits, as the manner of mira- bilaries is to do ; but for two reasons, both of great weight ; the one, to correct the par- tiality of axioms and opinions, which are commonly framed only upon common and familiar examples; the other, because from the wonders of nature is the nearest intelli- gence and passage towards the wonders of art : for it is no more but by following, and as it were hounding nature in her wan- derings, to be able to lead her afterwards to the same place again. Neither am I of opinion, in this history of 144 marvels, that superstitious narrations of sor- ceries, witchcrafts, dreams, divinations, and the like, where there is an assurance and clear evidence of the fact, be altogether ex- cluded. For it is not yet known iu what cases and how far effects attributed to super- stition do participate of natural causes : and therefore howsoever the practice of such things is to be condemned, yet from the spe- culation and consideration of them light may be taken, not only for the discerning of the offences, but for the farther disclosing of na- ture. Neither ought a man to make scruple of entering into these things for inquisition of truth, as your majesty hath shewed in your own example ; who with the two clear eyes of religion and natural philosophy have looked deeply and wisely into these shadows, and yet proved yourself to be of the nature of the sun, which passeth through pollutions, and itself remains as pure as before. But this I hold fit, that these narrations, which have mixture with superstition, be sorted by themselves, and not be mingled with the narrations which are merely and sincerely natural. 145 But as for the narrations touching the pro- digies and miracles of religions, they are either not true, or not natural ; and there- fore impertinent for the story of nature. For history of nature wrought or mecha- History of • ", T > t « • 1 O ArtS defiCi " meal, I hnd some collections made ot agn- ent. culture, and likewise of manual arts; but commonly with a rejection of experiments familiar and vulgar. For it is esteemed a kind of dishonour unto learning to descend to inquiry or medita- tion upon matters mechanical, except they be such as may be thought secrets, rarities, and special subtilties ; which humour of vain and supercilious arrogancy is justly derided in Plato; where he brings in Hippias, a vaunting sophist, disputing with Socrates, a true and unfeigned inquisitor of truth; where the subject being touching beauty, Socrates, after his wandering manner of inductions, put first an example of a fair virgin, and then of a fair horse, and then of a fair pot well glazed, whereat Hippias was offended ; and said, " More^ than for courtesy's sake, he " did think much to dispute with any that if did aliedge such base and sordid in- 146 te stances :" whereunto Socrates answered, " You have reason, and it becomes you well, " being a man so trim in your vestments." etc. And so goeth on in irony. But the truth is, they be not the highest instances that give the securest information ; as may be well expressed in the tale so com- mon of the philosopher, that while he gazed upwards to the stars fell into the water ; for if he had looked down he might have seen the stars in the water, but looking aloft he could not see the water in the stars. So it cometh often to pass, that mean and small things discover great, better than great can discover the small ; and therefore Aristotle noteth well, " that the nature of every thing " is best seen in its smallest portions." And for that cause he inquireth the nature of a commonwealth, first in a family, and the sim- ple conjugations of man and wife, parent and child, master and servant, which are in every cottage. Even so likewise the nature of this great city of the world, and the policy thereof, must be first sought in mean con- cordances and small portions. So we see how that secret of nature, of the turning of iron 147 touched with the loadstone towards the north, was found out in needles of iron, not in bars of iron. But if my judgment he of any weight, the use of History Mechanical is of all others the most radical and fundamental towards natural philosophy ; such natural philosophy as shall not vanish in the fume of subtile, sub- lime, or delectable speculation, but such as ■shall be operative to the endowment and be- nefit of man's life : for it will not only mi- nister and suggest for the present many in- genious practices in all trades, by a connexion and transferring of the observations of one art to the use of another, when the experi- ences of several mysteries shall fall under the consideration of one man's mind; but far- ther, it will give a more true and real illumi- nation concerning causes and axioms than is hitherto attained. For like as a man's disposition is never well known till he be crossed, nor Proteus ever changed shapes till he was straitened and held fast ; so the passages and variations of nature cannot appear so fully in the liberty l2 148 of nature, as in the trials and vexations of art. ^ ., 3 - For Civil History, it is of three kinds; Civil History. J 9 not unfitly to be compared with the three kinds of pictures or images : for of pictures or images, we see, some are unfinished, some are perfect, and some are defaced. So of histories we may find three kinds, Memorials, Perfect Histories, and Antiquities; for me- morials are history unfinished, or the first or rough draughts of history ; and antiquities are history defaced, or some remnants of his- tory which have casually escaped the ship- wreck of time. Of Memo- Memorials, or preparatory history, are of ~~ two sorts ; whereof the one may be termed Commentaries, and the other Registers. Com- mentaries are they which set down a con- tinuance of the naked events and actions, without the motives or designs, the counsels, the speeches, the pretexts, the occasions and other passages of action : for this is the true nature of a Commentary ; though Caesar, in modesty mixed with greatness, did for his 149 pleasure apply the name of a Commentary to the best history of the world. Registers are collections of public acts, as decrees of council, judicial proceedings, declarations and letters of state, orations and the like, without a perfect continuance or contexture of the thread of the narration. Antiquities? or remnants of history, are, ^o* as was said, tanquam tabula naufragii ; when industrious persons, by an exact and scrupu- lous diligence and observation, out of monu*- ments, names, words, proverbs, traditions, private records and evidences, fragments of stories, passages of books that concern not story, and the like, do save and recover somewhat from the deluge of time. In these kinds of imperfect histories I do assign no deficience, for they are tanquam im~ perfecte mista ; and therefore any deficience in them is but their nature* As for the corruptions and moths of his- Epitomes, tory, which are Epitomes, the use of them deserveth to be banished, as all men of sound judgment have confessed ; as those that have fretted- and corroded the sound bodies of many 150 excellent histories, and wrought them into base and unprofitable dregs. Perfect His- History, which may be called Just and Per* tory of three * J kinds. f ec t History, is of three kinds, according to the object which it propoundeth, or pre- tendeth to represent: for it either repre- sented a time, or a person, or an action. The first we call Chronicles, the second Lives, and the third Narrations or Relations. Of these, although the first be the most complete and absolute kind of history, and hath most estimation and glory, yet the se- cond excelleth it in profit and use, and the third in verity and sincerity : for history of times representeth the magnitude of actions, and the public faces and deportments of per- sons, and passeth over in silence the smaller passages and motions of men and matters. But such being the workmanship of God, as he doth hang the greatest weight upon the smallest wires, maxima e minimis sus- pendens, it comes therefore to pass, that such histories do rather set forth the pomp of busi- ness than the true and inward resorts there- of. But Lives, if they be well written, pro-* pounding to themselves a person to repre- 151 sent, m whom actions both greater and -smaller, public, and private, have a commix- ture, must of a necessity contain a more true> native, and lively representation. So again narrations and relations of actions, as the War of Peloponnesus, the Expedition of Cyrus Minor, the Conspiracy of Catiline, cannot but be more purely and exactly true than histories of times, because they may choose an argument comprehensible within the notice and instructions of the writer: whereas he that undertaketh the story of a time, especially of any length, cannot but meet with many blanks and spaces which he must be forced to fill up out of his own wit and conjecture. For the History of Times, I mean of civil of history, the providence of God hath made the distribution: for it hath pleased God to, or- dain and illustrate two exemplar states of the world for arms, learning, moral virtue, po- licy, and laws; the state of Graecia, and the state of Rome ; the histories whereof, occu- pying the middle part of time, have more an- cient to them, histories which may by one common name be termed the Antiquities of \5t the world; and after them, histories which may be likewise called by the name of Mo* dern History. Heathen An- Now to speak of the deficiencies. As to tiquities. x the heathen antiquities of the world, it is in vain to note them for deficient: deficient they are no doubt> consisting mostly of fables and fragments ; but the deficience cannot be holpen ; for antiquity is like fame, caput inter nubila condit, her head is muffled from our sight. For the history of the exemplar states, it is extant in jgood perfection. Not but I could wish there were a perfect course of history for Graecia from Theseus to Philo- pcemen, (what time the affairs of Graecia were drowned and extinguished in the affairs of Rome ;) and for Rome from Romulus to Justinianus, who may be truly said to be ultimus Romanorum. In which sequences of story the text of Thucydides and Xenophon in the one, and the text of Livius, Polybius, ' Sallustius, Caesar, Appianus, Tacitus, Hero- dianus in the other, to be kept intire with- out any diminution at all, and only to be supplied and continued. But this is matter of magnificence, rather to be commended 153 than required : and we speak now of parts of learning supplemental, and not of superero- gation. But for modern Histories, whereof there Unworthi- ness of the are some few very worthy, but the greater histories of J < J to England and part beneath mediocrity, (leaving the care Scotland. of foreign stories to foreign states, because I will not be curiosus in aliena republica,) I cannot fail to represent to your majesty the unworthiness of the history of England in the main continuance thereof, and the partiality and obliquity of that of Scotland in the latest and largest author that I have seen : supposing that it would be honour for your majesty, and a work very me- morable, if this island of Great Britain, as it is now joined in monarchy for the ages to come, so were joined in one history for the times passed ; after the manner of the sacred history, which draweth down the story of the ten tribes and of the two tribes, as twins, together. And if it shall seem that the greatness of this work may make it less exactly performed, there is an excellent period of a smaller compass of time, as to the story of England ; that is to say, from 154 the uniting of the roses to the uniting of the kingdoms ; a portion of time, wherein, to my understanding, there hath been the rarest varieties that in like number of suc- cessions of any hereditary monarchy hath been known : for it beginneth with the mix- ed adeption of a crown by arms and title ; an entry by battle, an establishment by mar- riage ; and therefore times answerable, like waters after a tempest, full of working and swelling, though without extremity of storm ; but well passed through by the wisdom of the pilot, being one of the most sufficient kings of all the number. Then followeth the reign of a king, whose actions, howso- ever conducted, had much intermixture with the affairs of Europe, balancing and in- clining them variably ; in whose time also began that great alteration in the state ec- clesiastical, an action which seldom cometh upon the stage. Then the reign of a minor : then an offer of an usurpation, though it was but as febris ephemera: then the reign of a queen matched with a foreigner : then of a queen that lived solitary and unmar- ried, and yet her government so masculine 155 as it had greater impression and operation upon the states abroad than it any ways re^- ceived from thence. And now last, this most happy and glorious event, that this island of Britain, divided from all the world, should be united in itself : and that oracle of rest, given to iEneas, Antiquam exquirite ?natrem, should now be performed and fulfilled upon the nations of England and Scotland, being now reunited in the ancient mother name of Britain, as a full period of all instabi- lity and peregrinations : so that as it cometh to pass in massive bodies, that they have certain trepidations and waverings before they fix and settle ; so it seemeth that by the providence of God this monarchy, be- fore it was to settle in your majesty and your generations, (in which, I hope, it is now established for ever,) it had these pre- lusive changes and varieties. For Lives, I do find strange that these of Lives, times have so little esteemed the virtues of the times, as that the writing of lives should be no more frequent. For although there be not many sovereign princes or absolute commanders, and that states are most col- 156 lected into monarchies, yet there are many worthy personages that deserve better than dispersed report or barren eulogies. For herein the invention of one of the late poets is proper, and doth well enrich the ancient fiction : for he feigneth that at the end of the i thread or web of every man's life there was a little medal containing the person's name, and that Time waited upon the shears ; and as soon as the thread was cut, caught the medals, and carried them to the river of Lethe ; and about the bank there were many birds flying up and down, that would get the medals and carry them in their beak a little while, and then let them fall into the river : only there were a few swans, which if they got a name, would carry it to a temple where it was consecrated. And though many men, more mortal in their affections than in their bodies, do esteem desire of name and memory but as a vanity and ventosity, Animi nil magna laudis egentes ; which opinion cometh from the root, non prius laudes contempsimus, quam laudanda fa* 157 cere desivimus ; yet that will not alter Solo- mon's judgment, Memoria justi cum laudi- bus, at impiorum nomen putrescet : the one flourisheth, the other either consumeth to present oblivion, or turneth to an ill odour. And therefore in that stile or addition, which is and hath been long well received and brought in use, felicis memories, pi& memoriae, bonce memories, we do acknowledge that which Cicero saith, borrowing it from Demosthenes, that bona fama propria possessio defunctorum ; which possession I cannot but note that in our times it lieth much waste, and that therein there is a deficience. For Narrations and Relations of particu- of Nan*. lar actions, there were also to be wished a greater diligence therein ; for there is no great action but hath some good pen which attends it. And because it is an ability not eommon to write a good history, as may well appear by the small number of them ; yet if par* ticularity of actions memorable were but tolerably reported as they pass, the com- piling of a complete history of times might be the better expected, when a writer should 158 arise that were fit for it : for the collection of such relations might be as a nursery- garden, whereby to plant a fair and stately garden, when time should serve. Annals and There is yet another partitionSrf history Journals. which Cornelius Tacitus maketh, which is not to be forgotten, especially with that ap- plication which he accoupleth it withal* Annals and Journals : appropriating to the former matters of state, and to the latter acts and accidents of a meaner nature. For giving but a touch of certain magnificent buildings, he addeth, Cum ex dignitate populi Romani repertum sit, res illustres annalibus, talia diurnis urbis actis mandare. So as there is a kind of contemplative heraldry, as well as civil. And as nothing doth derogate from the dignity of a state more than confusion of degrees ; so it doth not a little embase the authority of an history, to intermingle matters of triumph, or matters of ceremony, or matters of novelty, with matters of state. But the use of a journal hath not only been in the history of time, but likewise in the history of persons, and chiefly of actions ; for princes in ancient time had, upon point 159 of honor and policy both, journals kept of what passed day by day : for we see the Chronicle which was read before Ahasuerus, when he could not take rest, contained matter of affairs indeed, but such as had passed in his own time, and very lately be- fore : but the journal of Alexander's house expressed every small particularity, even concerning his person and court ; and it is yet an use well received in enterprises me- morable, as expeditions of war, navigations, and the like, to keep diaries of that which passeth continually. I cannot likewise be ignorant of a form Ruminated « . . l • i i or philoso- ot writing, which some grave and wise men pnicai his- have used, containing a scattered history of those actions which they have thought worthy of memory, with politic discourse and ob- servation thereupon ; not incorporated into the history, but separately, and as the more principal in their intention ; which kind of ruminated history I think more fit to place amongst books of policy, whereof w r e shall hereafter speak, than amongst books of his- tory : for it is the true office of history to represent the events themselves together with the counsels, and to leave the observations and conclusions thereupon to the liberty and faculty of every man's judgment ; but mix- tures are things irregular, whereof no man can define. History of So also is there another kind of history phy. ° manifoldly mixed, and that is History of Cosmography; being compounded of natural history, in respect of the regions themselves ; of history civil, in respect of the habitations, regimens, and manners of the people ; and the mathematics, in respect of the climates and configurations towards the heavens : which part 01 learning of all others, in this latter time, hath obtained most proficience # For it may be truly affirmed to* the honour of these times, and in a virtuous emulation with antiquity, that this great building of the world had never thorough lights made in it, till the age of us and our fathers : for although they had knowledge of the antipodes, Nosque ubi primus equis oriens afflavit anhelis, . Iilic sera rubens accendit lumina Vesper : yet that might be by demonstration, and not in fact; and if by travel, it requiretk 161 the voyage but of half the globe. But to circle the earth, as the heavenly bodies do, was not done or enterprised till these latter times: and therefore these times may justly bear in their word, not only plus ultra, in precedence of the ancient non ultra, and imi- tabile fulmen, in precedence of the ancient non imitabile fulmen , Demens qui nimbos et non imitabile fulmen, etc. but likewise imitabile codum; in respect of the many memorable voyages, after the manner of heaven, about the globe of the earth. And this proficience in navigation and dis- coveries may plant also an expectation of the farther proficience and augmentation of all sciences ; because it may seem they are or- dained by God to be coevals, that is, to meet one age. For so the prophet Daniel, speak- ing of the latter times, foretelleth, Plurimi pertransibunt, et multiplex erit scientia; as if the openness and thorough passage of the world and the increase of knowledge were appointed to be in the same ages, as we see it is already performed in great part; the learning of these latter times not much giv- ing place to the former two periods- or re- 162 turns of learning, the one of the Grecians, the other of the Romans. Ecclesiastical History. History of the Church. History of 2 5 rophecy. History ecclesiastical receiveth the same divisions with history civil: but farther, in the propriety thereof, may be divided into the History of the church, by a general name; History of prophecy ; and History of providence. The first describeth the times of the mili- tant church, whether it be fluctuant, as the ark of Noah ; or moveable, as the ark in the wilderness ; or at rest, as the ark in the temple ; that is, the state of the church in persecution, in remove, and in peace. This part I ought in no sort to note as deficient, only I would that the virtue and sincerity of it were according to the mass and quantity. But I am not now in hand with censures, but with omissions. The second, which is history of prophecy, consisteth of two relatives, the prophecy, and the accomplishment; and therefore the na- ture of such a work ought to be, that every prophecy of the scripture be sorted with the event fulfilling the same, throughout the ages 163 of the world; both for the better confirma- tion of faith, and for the better illumination of the church touching those parts of prophe- cies which are yet unfulfilled : allowing- never- theless that latitude which is agreeable and familiar unto divine prophecies; being of the nature of their author, with whom a thousand years are but as one day; and therefore are not fulfilled punctually at once, but have springing and germinant accom- plishment throughout many ages; though the height or fulness of them may refer to some one age. This is a work which I find deficient ; but is to be done with wisdom, sobriety, and re- verence, or not at all. The third, which is history of providence, History of containeth that excellent correspondence which is between God's revealed will and his secret will : which though it be so ob- scure, as for the most part it is not legible to the natural man; no, nor many times to those who behold it from the tabernacle; yet at some times it pleaseth God, for our better establishment, and the confuting of m 2 164 those which are as without God in the world, to write it in such text and capital letters/ that as the prophet saith, he that runneth by may read it; that is, mere sensual persons, which hasten by God's judgments and never bend or fix their cogitations upon them, are nevertheless in their passage and race urged to discern it. Such are the notable events and examples of God's judgments, chastise- ments, deliverances, and blessings ; and this is a work which hath passed through the la- bours of many, and therefore I cannot pre- sent as omitted. of the Ap- There are also other parts of learning ffi»toiy. which are Appendices to history : for all the exterior proceedings of man consist of words and deeds ; whereof history doth properly receive and retain in memory the deeds; and if words, yet but as inducements and passages to deeds : so are there other books and writings, which are appropriated to the custody and receipt of words only; which likewise are of three sorts ; Orations, Letters, and brief Speeches or Sayings. Orations are pleadings, speeches of conn- 165 sel, laudatives, invectives, apologies, repre- hensions, orations of formality or ceremony, and the like. Letters are according to all the variety of occasions, advertisements, advices, directions, propositions, petitions, commendatory, ex- postulatory, satisfactory; of compliment, of pleasure, of discourse, and all other passages of action. And such as are written from wise men, are of all the words of man, in my judgment, the best; for they are more natural than orations and public speeches, and more advised than conferences or pre- sent speeches. So again letters of affairs from such as manage them, or are privy to them, are of all others the best instructions for history, and to a diligent reader the best histories in themselves. For Apophthegms, it is a great loss of that book of Caesar's ; for as his history, and those few letters of his which we have, and those apophthegms which were of his own, excel all mens' else, so I suppose would his collec- tion of apophthegms have done ; for as for those which are collected by others, either I have no taste in such matters, or else their 166 choice hath not been happy. But upon these three kinds of writings I do not insist, be- cause I have no deficiencies to propound con- cerning them. Thus much therefore concerning history ; which is that part of learning which an- swereth to one of the cells, domiciles, or of- fices of the mind of man ; which is that of the memory. POESY. The nature Poesy is a part of learning in measure of of Poesy : it's L ° two senses. WO rds for the most part restrained, but in all other points extremely licensed, and doth truly refer to the imagination ; which, being not tied to the laws of matter, may at plea- sure join that which nature hath severed, and sever that which nature hath joined; and so make unlawful matches and divorces of things ; Pictoribus atque poetis, etc. It is taken in two senses, in respect of words, or matter; in the first sense it is but a charac- ter of stile, and belongeth to arts of speech, and is not pertinent for the present : in the 167 latter, it is, as hath been said, one of the principal portions of learning, and is nothing else but feigned history, which may be stiled as well in prose as in verse. The use of this feigned history hath been Use of Poesy. to give some shadow of satisfaction to the mind of man in those points wherein the na- ture of things doth deny it, the world being in proportion inferior to the soul ; by reason whereof there is, agreeable to the spirit of man, a more ample greatness, a more exact goodness, and a more absolute variety, than can be found in the nature of things. There- fore, because the acts or events of true his- tory have not that magnitude which satis- fieth the mind of man, poesy feigneth acts and events greater and more heroical : be- cause true history propoundeth the successes and issues of actions not so agreeable to the merits of virtue and vice, therefore poesy feigns them more just in retribution, and more according to revealed providence : because true history representeth actions and events more ordinary, and less inter- changed, therefore poesy endueth them with more rareness, and more unexpected 168 and alternative variations : so as it appeareth that poesy serveth and conferreth to mag- nanimity, morality, and to delectation. And therefore it was ever thought to have some participation of divineness, because it doth raise and erect the mind, by submitting the shews of things to the desires of the mind ; whereas reason doth buckle and bow the mind unto the nature of things. And we see, that by these insinuations and congruities with man's nature and plea- sure, joined also with the agreement and consort it hath with music, it hath had access and estimation in rude times and barba- rous regions, where other learning stood ex- cluded. Poesy, nar- The division of poesy, which is aptest in rative, repre- f ,'.,... sentathe, and the propriety thereof, (besides those divisions allusive. which are common unto it with history, as feigned chronicles, feigned lives, and the appendices of history, as feigned epistles, feigned orations, and the rest) is into Poesy Narrative, Representative, and Allusive. The Narrative is a mere imitation of his- tory, with the excesses before remember- ed; choosing for subject commonly wars and 169 love, rarely state, and sometimes pleasure or mirth. Representative is as a visible history ; and is an image of actions as if they were present, as history is of actions in nature as they are, that is past. Allusive or parabolical is a narration ap- plied only to express some special purpose or conceit: which latter kind of parabolical wisdom was much more in use in the ancient times, as by the fables of iEsop, and the brief sentences of the Seven, and the use of hiero- glyphics, may appear. And the cause was, for that it was then of necessity to express any point of reason, which was more sharp or subtile than the vulgar, in that manner ; because men in those times wanted both va- riety of examples and subtilty of conceit : and as hieroglyphics were before letters, so parables were before arguments. And never- theless now, and at all times, they do retain much life and vigour ; because reason cannot be so sensible, nor examples so fit. " But there remaineth yet another use of poesy parabolical, opposite to that which we last mentioned : for that tendeth to demon- 170 strate and illustrate that which is taught or delivered, and this other to retire and ob- scure it : that is, when the secrets and mys- teries of religion, policy, or philosophy, are involved in fables and parables. Exposition Of this in divine poesy we see the use is of certain febies. authorised. In heathen poesy we see the ex- position of fables doth fall out sometimes with great felicity ; as in the fable that the giants being overthrown in their war against the gods, the Earth their mother in revenge thereof brought forth Fame : Illam terra parens ira irritata deorutn, Extremam, ut perhibent, Cceo Enceladoque sororem Progenuit. Expounded, that when Princes and mo- narchies have suppressed actual and open rebels, then the malignity of people, which is the mother of rebellion, doth bring forth libels and slanders, and taxations of the state, which is of the same kind with rebellion, but more feminine. So in the fable, that the rest of the gods having conspired to bind Ju- piter, Pallas called Briareus with his hun- dred hands to his aid : expounded, that mo- 171 narchies need not fear any curbing of their absoluteness by mighty subjects, as long as by wisdom they keep the hearts of the peo- ple, who will be sure to come in on their side. So in the fable, that Achilles was brought up under Chiron the Centaur, who was part a man and part a beast ; expound- ed ingeniously, but corruptly by Machiavel, that it belongeth to the education and disci- pline of princes to know as well how to play the part of the lion in violence, and the fox in guile, as of the man in virtue and jus- tice. Nevertheless, in many the like encounters, I do rather think that the fable was first, and the exposition devised, than that the mo- ral was first, and thereupon the fable framed. For I find it was an ancient vanity in Chry- sippus, that troubled himself with great con- tention to fasten the assertions of the Stoics upon fictions of the ancient poets ; but yet that all the fables and fictions of the poets were but pleasure and not figure, I inter- pose no opinion. Surely of those poets which are now ex- tant, even Homer himself, notwithstanding 172 he was made a kind of Scripture by the lat- ter schools of the Grecians, yet I should with- out any difficulty pronounce that his fables had no such inwardness in his own meaning ; but what they might have upon a more ori- ginal tradition, is not easy to affirm, for he was not the inventor of many of them. In this third part of learning, which is poesy, I can report no deficience. For be- ing as a plant that cometh of the lust of the earth, without a formal seed, it hath sprung up and spread abroad more than any other kind : but to ascribe unto it that which is due, for the expression of affections, pas- sions, corruptions, and customs, we are be- holden to poets more than to philosophers' works ; and for wit and eloquence, not much less than to orators' harangues. But it is not good to stay too long in the theatre. Let us now pass to the judicial place or palace of the mind, which we are to approach and view with more reverence and attention. PHILOSOPHY. The knowledge of man is as the waters, some descending from above, and some 173 springing from beneath ; the one informed by the light of nature/ the other inspired by divine revelation. The light of nature consisteth in the no- tions of the mind and the reports of the senses : for as for knowledge which man receiveth by teaching, it is cumulative and not original ; as in a water that, besides his own spring-head, is fed with other springs and streams. So then, according to these two differing illuminations or originals, knowledge is first of all divided into Divi- nity and Philosophy. In Philosophy, the contemplations of man Three enqui- do either penetrate unto God, — or are cir- lophy. * °" cumferred to nature, — or are reflected or reverted upon himself. Out of which seve- ral enquiries there do arise three know- ledges, Divine philosophy, Natural philoso- phy, and Human philosophy or Humanity. For all things are marked and stamped with this triple character, of the power of God, the difference of nature, and the use of man. But because the distributions and parti- Primitive or niii summary tions ot knowledge are not like several lines Philosophy, 1.74 that meet in one angle, and so touch but in a point; but are like branches of a tree, that meet in a stem, which hath a dimen- sion and quantity of intireness and conti- nuance, before it come to discontinue and break itself into arms and boughs ; there- fore it is good, before we enter into the former distribution, to erect and constitute one universal science, by the name of Phi- losophia prima, primitive or summary phi- losophy, as the main and common way, before we come where the ways part and divide themselves ; which science whether I should report as deficient or no, I stand doubtful. For I find a certain rhapsody of natural theology, and of divers parts of logic ; and of that olbw part of natural philosophy which concerneth the principles; and of that other part of natural philosophy which concerneth the soul or spirit; all these strangely commixed and confused; but be- ing examined, it seemeth to me rather a depredation of other sciences, advanced and exalted unto some height of terms, than any thing solid or substantial of itself. 175 Nevertheless I cannot be ignorant of the distinction which is current, that the same things are handled but in several respects. As for example, that logic considereth of many things as they are in notion ; and this philosophy as they are in nature ; the one in appearance, the other in existence: but I find this difference better made than pursued. For if they had considered quan- tity, similitude, diversity, and the rest of those external characters of things, as phi- losophers, and in nature, their inquiries must of force have been of a far other kind than they are. For doth any of them, in handling quan- tity, speak of the force of union, how and how far it multiplieth virtue ? Doth any give the reason, why some things in nature are so common, and in so great mass, and others so rare, and in so small quantity ? Doth any, in handling similitude and di- versity, assign the cause why iron should not move to iron, which is more like, but move to the loadstone which is less like? Why in all diversities of things there should be certain participles in nature, which are 176 almost ambiguous/ to which kind they should be referred ? But there is a mere and deep silence touching the nature and operation of those common adjuncts of things, as in nature ; and only a resuming and repeat- ing of the force and use of them in speech or argument. Meaning of Therefore, because in a writing of this primitive ° Philosophy. na ture I avoid all subtilty, my meaning touching this original or universal philoso- phy is thus, in a plain and gross descrip- tion by negative ; " That it be a receptacle " for all such profitable observations and " axioms as fall not within the compass of " any of the special parts of philosophy or " sciences, but are more common and of