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TREATISE 
 
 ON THE CONDUCT OF THE 
 
 UNDERSTANDS G. 
 
 JOHN LOCKE, GENT. 
 
 TO WHICH IS NOW ADDED 
 
 A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 A NEW EDITION. 
 
 HARTFORD: 
 PUBLISHED BY S. ANDRUS & SON. 
 
 1851. 
 
 V 
 
^.vs»\ 
 
 
 %c\ 
 
 B.oio. 
 
 AUG 11 i90*» 
 
 ?ub. Lin* 
 
/ 
 
 LIFE OF LOCKE. 4* 
 
 John Locke ; one of the greatest philosophers and most 
 valuable writers who have adorned this country, was born 
 at Wrington, in Somersetshire, on the twenty-ninth of Au- 
 gust, 1032. His father, who had been bred to the law, 
 acted in the capacity of steward, or court-keeper, to colonel 
 Alexander Popham 3 and, upon the breaking out of the civil 
 war, became a captain in the service of the parliament. 
 He was a gentleman of strict probity and economy, and 
 possessed of a handsome fortune 5 but, as it came much 
 impaired into the hands of his son, it was probably injured 
 through the misfortunes of the times. However, he took 
 great pains in his son ? s education, and though while he was 
 a child he behaved towards him with great distance and 
 severity, yet as he grew up, he treated him with more 
 familiarity, till at length they lived together rather as friends, 
 than as two persons, one of whom might justly claim respect 
 from the other. When he was of a proper age, young 
 Locke was sent to Westminster school, where he continued 
 till the year 1651 5 when he was entered a student of 
 Christ church-college, in the university of Oxford. Here 
 he so greatly distinguished himself by his application and 
 proficiency, that he was considered to be the most inge- 
 nious young man in the college. But, though he gained such 
 reputation in the university, he was afterwards often heard 
 to complain of the little satisfaction which he had found 
 in the method of study which had been prescribed to him, 
 and of the little service which it had afforded him, in en- 
 lightening and enlarging his mind, or in making him more 
 exact in his reasonings. The first books which gave him 
 a relish for the study of philosophy, were the writings of 
 Des Cartes ; for though he did not approve of all his notions, 
 yet he found that he wrote with great perspicuity. Having 
 taken his degree of B. A. in 1655, and that of M. A. in 
 1G58, Mr. Locke for some time closely applied himself to 
 the study of physic, going through the usual courses prepar- 
 atory to the practice j and it is said that he got some busi- 
 
IV LIFE OF LOCKE. 
 
 ness in that profession at Oxford. So great was the deli- 
 cacy of his constitution, however, that he was not capable 
 of a laborious application to the medical art ; and it is not 
 improbable that his principal motive in studying* it was, that 
 he mig;ht be qualified, when necessary, to act as his own 
 physician. In the year 1664, he accepted of an offer to go 
 abroad, in the capacity of secretary to sir William Swan, 
 who was appointed envoy from king Charles II. to the 
 elector of Brandenburg, and some other German princes 
 but returning to England again within less than a year, he 
 resumed his studies at Oxford with renewed vigour, and 
 applied himself particularly to natural philosophy. While 
 he was at Oxford in 1666/ an accident introduced him to 
 the acquaintance of lord Ashley, afterwards earl of Shaftes- 
 bury, which resulted in his inviting Mr. Locke to his house ; 
 and, in the year 1667, he prevailed on him to take up his 
 residence with him atLunning-hill. 
 
 By his acquaintance with this nobleman, Mr. Locke was 
 introduced to the conversation of the duke of Buckingham, 
 the earl of Halifax, and other of the most eminent persons 
 of that age, who were all charmed with his conversation. 
 In the year 1668, at the request of the earl and countess of 
 Northumberland, Mr. Locke accompanied them in a tour to 
 France, and staid in that country with-the countess, while the 
 earl went towards Italy, with an intention of visiting Rome. 
 But this nobleman dying on his journey at Turin, the countess 
 came back to England sooner than was at first designed, and 
 Mr. Locke with her, who continued to reside, as before, at 
 lord Ashley's. That nobleman, who was then chancellor of 
 the exchequer, having, in conjunction with other lords, ob- 
 tained a grant of Carolina, employed Mr. Locke to draw up 
 the fundamental constitutions of that province. In exe- 
 cuting this task, our author had formed articles relative to 
 religion, and public worship, on those liberal and enlarged 
 principles of toleration, which were agreeable to the senti- 
 ments of his enlightened mind 5 but some of the clergy, 
 jealous of such provisions as might prove an obstacle to 
 their ascendency, expressed their disapprobation of them, 
 and procured an additional article to be inserted, securing 
 the countenance and support of tne state only to the exer- 
 cise of religion according to the discipline of the established 
 church. Mr. Locke still retained his student's place at 
 Christ-church, and made frequent visits to Oxford, for the 
 
LIFE OF LOCKE. V 
 
 sake of consulting books in the prosecution of his studies, 
 and for the benefit of change of air. At lord Ashley's, he 
 inspected the education of his lordship's only son, who was 
 then about sixteen years of age ; and executed that prov- 
 ince with the greatest care, and to the entire satisfaction of 
 his noble patron. As the young lord was but of a weakly 
 constitution, his father thought proper to marry him early, 
 lest the family should become extinct by his death. And, 
 since he was too young, and had too little experience to 
 choose a wife for himself, and lord Ashley had the highest 
 opinion of Mr. Locke's judgment, as well as the greatest 
 confidence in his integrity, he desired him to make a suita- 
 ble choice for his son. This was a difficult and delicate 
 task ; for though lord Ashley did not insist on a great for- 
 tune for his son, yet he would have him marry a lady of 
 a good family, an agreeable temper, a fine person, and, 
 above all, of good education and good understanding, 
 whose conduct would be very different from that of the gen- 
 erality of court ladies. Notwithstanding the difficulties at- 
 tending such a commission, Mr. Locke undertook it, and 
 executed it very happily. The eldest son by this marriage, 
 afterwards the" noble author of the Characteristics, was 
 committed to the care of Mr. Locke in his education, and 
 
 fave evidence to the world of the master-hand which had 
 irected and guided his genius. 
 
 In 1670, and in the following year, Mr. Locke began to form 
 the plan of his Essay on the Human Understanding, at the 
 earnest request of some of his friends, who were accustomed 
 to meet in his chamber, for the purpose of conversing on 
 philosophical subjects ; but the employments and avocations 
 which were found for him by his patron would not then suf- 
 fer him to make any great progress in that work. About 
 this time, it is supposed, he was made fellow of the Royal 
 Society. In 1672, lord Ashley, having been created earl 
 of Shaftesbury, and raised to the dignity of lord high chan- 
 cellor of England, appointed Mr. Locke secretary of the 
 presentations 5 but he held that place only till the end of 
 the following year, when the earl was obliged to resign the 
 great seal. Trlis dismissal was followed by that of Mr. 
 Locke, to whom the earl had communicated his most secret 
 affairs, and who contributed towards the publication of 
 some treatises, which were intended to excite the nation to 
 watch the conduct of the Roman Catholics, and to oppose 
 
VI LIFE OF LOCKE. 
 
 the arbitrary designs of the court. After this, his lordship, 
 who was still president of the board of trade, appointed Mr. 
 Locke secretary to the same, which office he retained not 
 long", the commission being 1 dissolved in the year 1674. In 
 the following year, he was admitted to the degree of bache- 
 lor of physic j and it appears that he continued to prosecute 
 this study, and to keep up his acquaintance with several of 
 the faculty. In what reputation he was held by some of 
 the most eminent of them, we may judge from the testimo- 
 nial that was given of him by the celebrated Dr. Sydenham, 
 in his book, entitled, Observationes Medicae circa Morbo- 
 rum Acutorum Historiam et Curationem, &c. " You know, 
 likewise, 77 says he, " how much my method has been 
 approved of by a person who has examined it to the bottom, 
 and who is our common friend : I mean Mr. John Locke, 
 who, if we consider his genius and penetrating and exact 
 judgment, or the strictness of his morals, has scarcely any 
 superior, and few equals now living." In the summer of 
 1675, Mr. Locke, being apprehensive of a consumption, 
 travelled into France, and resided for some time at Mont- 
 pellier, where he became acquainted with Mr. Thomas 
 Herbert, afterwards earl of Pembroke, to whom he com- 
 municated his design of writing- his Essay on Human 
 Understanding. From Montpellier he went to Paris, where 
 he contracted a friendship with M. Justel, the celebrated 
 civilian, whose house was at that time the place of resort 
 for men of letters 5 and where a familiarity commenced 
 between him and several other persons of eminent learning-. 
 In 1679, the earl of Shaftesbury > being again restored to 
 favour at court, and made president of the council, sent to 
 request that Mr. Locke would return to England, which he 
 accordingly did. Within six months, however, that noble- 
 man was again displaced, for refusing his concurrence with 
 the designs of the court, which aimed at the establishment 
 of popery and arbitrary power 5 and, in 1682, he was 
 obliged to retire to Holland, to avoid a prosecution for 
 high treason, on account of pretended crimes of which he 
 was accused. Mr. Locke remained steadily attached to 
 his patron, following him into Holland 5 and upon his lord- 
 ship's death, which happened soon afterwards, he did not 
 think it safe to return to England, where his intima'e con- 
 nexion with lord Shaftesbury had created him some 
 powerful and malignant enemies. Before he had been a 
 
LIFE OF LOCKE. Vll 
 
 year in Holland, he was accused at the English court of 
 being the author of certain tracts which had been published 
 against the government ; and, notwithstanding that another 
 person was soon afterwards discovered to be the writer of 
 them, yet as he was observed to join in company at the 
 Hague with several Englishmen who were the avowed 
 enemies of the system of politics on which the English 
 court now acted, information of this circumstance was con- 
 veyed to the earl of Sunderland, then secretary of state. 
 This intelligence lord Sunderland communicated to the 
 king, who immediately ordered that bishop Fell, then dean 
 of Christ-church, should receive his express command to 
 eject Mr. Locke from his student's place, which the bishop 
 executed accordingly. After this violent procedure of the 
 court against him in England, he thought it prudent to 
 remain in Holland, where he was at the accession of king 
 James II. Soon after that event, William Penn, the famous 
 quaker, who had known Mr. Locke at the university, used 
 his interest with the king to procure a pardon for him ; and 
 .vould have obtained it had not Mr. Locke declined the 
 acceptance of such an offer, nobly observing, that he had 
 no occasion for a pardon, since he had not been guilty of 
 any crime. 
 
 In the year 1685 ; when the duke of Monmouth and his 
 party were making ] no para lions in Holland for his rasa 
 and unfortunate enterprise, the English envoy at the Hague 
 demanded that Mr. Locke, with several others, should be 
 delivered up to him, on suspicion of his being engaged in 
 that undertaking. And though this suspicion was not on y 
 groundless, but without even a shadow of probability, it 
 obliged him to lie concealed nearly twelve months, till it 
 was sufficiently known Hint he had no concern whatever in 
 that business. Towards the latter end of the year 1686, 
 he appeared again in public; and in the following year 
 formed a literary society at Amsterdam, of which Limborch, 
 Le Clerc, and other learned men, were members, who met 
 together weekly for conversation upon subjects of universal 
 learning. About the end of the year 1687, our author 
 finished the composition of his great work, the Essay con- 
 cerning Human Understanding, which had been the principal 
 object of his attention for some years ; and that the public 
 might be apprised of the outlines of his plan, he made an 
 abridgment of it himself, which his friend Le Clerc trans- 
 
Vlll LIFE OF LOCKE. 
 
 lated into French, and inserted in one of his "Biblio- 
 theques." This abridgment was so highly approved of by 
 all thinking 1 persons, and sincere lovers of truth, that they 
 expressed the strongest desire to see the whole work. 
 During the time of his concealment, he wrote his first 
 Letter concerning Toleration, in Latin, which was first 
 printed at Gouda, in 1689, under the title of Epistola de 
 Tolerantia, &c. 12mo. This excellent performance, which 
 has ever since been held in the highest esteem by the best 
 judges, was translated into Dutch and French, in the same 
 year, and was also printed in English, in 4to. Before this 
 work made its appearance, the happy Revolution in 1688, 
 effected by the courage and good conduct of the prince of 
 Orange, opened the way for Mr. Locke's return to his 
 native country ; whither he came in the fleet which con- 
 veyed the princess of Orange. After public liberty had 
 been restored, our author thought it proper to assert his 
 own private rights ; and therefore put in his claim to the 
 student's place in Christ-church, of which he had been 
 unjustly deprived. Finding, however, that the society 
 resisted his pretensions, on the plea that their proceedings 
 had been conformable to their statutes, and that they could 
 not be prevailed upon to dispossess the person who had 
 been elected in his room, he desisted from his claim. It is 
 true, that they made him an offer of being admitted a 
 supernumerary student ; but, as his sole motive in endeav- 
 ouring to procure his restoration was, that such a measure 
 might proclaim the injustice of the mandate for his ejection, 
 he did not think proper to accept it. As Mr. Locke was 
 justly considered to be a sufferer for the principles of the 
 devolution, he might without much difficulty have obtained 
 some very considerable post; but he contented himself 
 with that of commissioner of appeals, worth about £200 
 per annum. In July, 1689, he wrote a letter to his friend 
 Limborch, with whom he frequently corresponded, in which 
 he took occasion to speak of the act of toleration, which 
 had then just passed, and at which he expressed his satis- 
 faction; though he at the same time intimated, that he 
 considered it to be defective, and not sufficiently compre- 
 hensive. " I doubt not," says he, " but you have already 
 heard, that toleration is at length established among us by 
 law; not, however, perhaps, with that latitude which you, 
 and such as you, true Christians, devoid of envy and ambi- 
 
LIFE OF LOCKE. IX 
 
 tion, would have wished. But it is somewhat to have 
 proceeded thus far. And 1 hope these beginnings are the 
 foundations of liberty and peace 7 which shall hereafter be 
 established in the church of Christ." 
 
 About this time, Mr. Locke had an offer to go abroad in 
 a public character 3 and it was left to his choice whether 
 he would be envoy at the court of the emperor, the elector 
 of Brandenburg, or any other, where he thought that the 
 air would best agree with him; but he declined it on 
 account of the infirm state of his health. In the year 1690, 
 he published his celebrated Essay concerning Human Un- 
 derstanding, in folio; a work which has made the author's 
 name immortal, and does honour to our country ; which an 
 eminent and learned writer has styled, u one of the noblest, 
 the usefulest, the most original books the world ever saw. 7 ' 
 But, notwithstanding its extraordinary merit, it gave great 
 offence to many people at the first publication, and was 
 attacked by various writers, most of whose names are now 
 forgotten. It was even proposed, at a meeting of the 
 heads of houses of the university of Oxford, to censure and 
 discourage the reading of it 3 and, after various debates 
 among themselves, it was concluded, that each head of a 
 house should endeavour to prevent it from being- read in 
 his college. They were afraid of the light which it poured 
 in upon the minds of men. But all their efforts were in 
 vain 5 as were also the attacks of its various opponents on 
 the reputation either of the work or its author, which con- 
 tinued daily to increase in every part of Europe. It was 
 translated into French and Latin ; and the fourth in English, 
 with alterations and additions, was printed in the year 
 1700 3 since which time it has past through a vast number of 
 editions. In the year 1690, Mr. Locke published his IVo 
 Treatises on Government, 8vo. — Those valuable treatises, 
 which are some of the best extant on the subject, in any 
 language, are employed in refuting and overturning sir 
 Robert Filmer's false principles, and in pointing out the 
 true origin, extent, and end of civil government. About 
 this time, the coin of the kingdom was in a very bad state, 
 owing to its having been so much clipped, that it wanted 
 above a third of the standard weight. The magnitude of 
 this evil, and the mischiefs whicli it threatened, having 
 engaged the serious consideration of parliament, Mr. Locke, 
 with the view of assisting those who were at the head of 
 
X LIFE OF LOCKE. 
 
 affairs to form a right understanding of this matter, and to 
 excite them to rectify such shameful abuse, printed Some 
 Considerations of the Consequences of lowering 1 the Interest, 
 and raising- the Value of Money, 1691, 8vo. Afterwards 
 he published some other small pieces on the same subject ; 
 by which he convinced the world, that he was as able to rea- 
 son on trade and business, as on the most abstract parts of 
 science. These writings occasioned his being frequently 
 consulted by the ministry, relative to the new coinage of 
 silver, and other topics. Willi the earl of Pembroke, then 
 lord keeper of the privy seal, he was for some time accus- 
 tomed to hold weekly conferences ; and when the air of 
 London began to affect his lungs, he sometimes went to the 
 earl of Peterborough's seat, near Fulham, where he always 
 met with the most friendly reception. He was afterwards, 
 however, obliged to quit London entirely, at least during 
 the winter season, and to remove to some place at a greater 
 distance. He had frequently paid visits to sir Francis 
 Masham, at Oates, in Essex, about twenty miles from 
 London, where he found that the air agreed admirably well 
 with his constitution, and where he also enjoj'ed the most 
 delightful society. We may imagine, therefore, that he 
 was persuaded, without much difficulty, to accept of an 
 offer which sir Francis made, to give him apartments in his 
 house, where he might settle during the remainder of his 
 life. Here he was received upon his own terms, that he 
 might have his entire liberty, and look upon himself as at 
 his own house 5 and here he chiefly pursued his future 
 studies, being seldom absent, because the air of London 
 grew more and more troublesome to him. 
 
 In 1693, Mr. Locke published his Thoughts concerning 
 Education, 8vo. which he greatly improved in subsequent 
 editions. In 1695, king William, who knew how to appre- 
 ciate his abilities for serving the public, appointed him one 
 of the commissioners of trade and plantations ; which 
 obliged him to reside more in London than he had done 
 for some time past. In the same year, he published his 
 excellent treatise, entitled The Reasonableness of Chris- 
 tianity, as delivered in the Scriptures, 8vo. which was 
 written, it is said, in order to promote the scheme which 
 king William had so much at heart, of a compromise with 
 the dissenters. 
 
 The asthmatic complaint, to which Mr. Locke had been 
 
LIFE OF LOCKE. XI 
 
 long subject increasing with his years, began now to subdue 
 his constitution, and rendered him very infirm. He there- 
 fore, determined to resign his post of commissioner of trade 
 and plantations 5 but he acquainted none of his friends with 
 his design, till he had given up his commission into the 
 king's own hand. . His majesty was very unwilling to 
 receive it, and told our author, that he would be well 
 pleased with his continuance in that office, though he should 
 give little or no attendance 5 for that he did not desire him 
 to stay in town one day to the injury of his health. But 
 Mr. Locke told the king, that he could not in conscience 
 hold a place to which a considerable salary was annexed, 
 without discharging the duties of it 3 upon which the king 
 reluctantly accepted his resignation. Mr. Locke's behaviour 
 in this instance discovered such a degree ot integrity and 
 virtue, as reflects more honour on his character than his 
 extraordinary intellectual endowments. His majesty enter 
 tained a great esteem for him, and would sometimes desire 
 his attendance, in order to consult with him on public affairs 
 and to know his sentiments of things. From this time, Mr. 
 Locke continued altogether at Oates, in which agreeable 
 retirement he applied himself wholly to the study of the 
 sacred Scriptures. In this employment he found so much 
 pleasure, that he regretted his not having devoted more of 
 his time to it in the former part of his lite. And his great 
 regard for the sacred writings appears from his answer to a 
 relation, who had inquired of him what was the shortest and 
 surest way for a young gentleman to attain a true knowl- 
 edge of the Christian religion. " Let him study," said 
 Mr. Locke, "the holy Scripture, especially in the New 
 Testament. Therein are contained the words of eternal 
 life. It has God for its author 3 salvation for its end 5 and 
 truth, without any mixture of error, for its matter." Mr. 
 Locke now found his asthmatic disorder growing extremely 
 troublesome, though it did not prevent him from enjoying 
 great cheerfulness of mind. In this situation, his sufferings 
 were greatly alleviated by the kind attention and agreeable 
 conversation of the accomplished lady Masham, who was 
 the daughter of the learned Dr. Cudworth 3 as this lady 
 and Mr. Locke had a great esteem and friendship for each 
 other. At the commencement of the summer of the year 
 1703, a season which, in former years, had always restored 
 him some degrees of strength, he perceived that it haa 
 
Xll LIFE OF LOCKE. 
 
 begun to fail him more remarkably than ever. This con- 
 vinced him that his dissolution was at no great distance; 
 and he often spoke of it himself, but always with great com- 
 posure 5 while he omitted none of the precautions which, 
 from his skill in physic , he knew had a tendency to prolong 
 his life. At length his legs began to swell 5 and that 
 swelling 1 increasing every day, his strength visibly dimin- 
 ished. He therefore prepared to take leave of the world, 
 deeply impressed with a sense of God's manifold blessings 
 to him, which he took delight in recounting to his friends, 
 and full of a sincere resignation to the divine will, and of 
 firm hopes in the promises of future life. As he had been 
 incapable for a considerable time of going to church, he 
 thought proper to receive the sacrament at home 5 and two 
 of his friends communicating with him, as soon as the 
 ceremony was finished, he told the minister, "that he was 
 in perfect charity with all men, and in a sincere communion 
 with the church of Christ, by what name soever it might be 
 distinguished." He lived some months after this 3 which 
 time he spent in acts of piety and devotion. On the day 
 before his death, lady Masham being alone with him, and 
 sitting by his bed-side, he exhorted her to regard this world 
 only as a state of preparation for a better ; adding " that 
 he had lived long enough, and that he thanked God he had 
 enjoyed a happy life 5 but that, after all, he looked upon 
 this life to be nothing but vanity." He had no rest that 
 night, and resolved to try to rise on the following morning, 
 which he did, and was carried into his study, where he was 
 placed in an easy chair, and slept for a considerable time 
 Seeming a little refreshed, he would be dressed as he used 
 to be, and observing lady Masham reading to herself in the 
 Psalms while he was dressing, he requested her to read 
 aloud. She did so, and he appeared very attentive, till, 
 feeling the approach of death, he desired her to break off, 
 and in a few minutes expired, on the twenty-eighth of 
 October, 1704, in the seventy-third year of his age. He 
 was interred in the church of Oates, where there is a decent 
 monument erected to his memory, with a modest inscription 
 in Latin, written by himself. 
 
X1U 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Introduction, 3 
 
 Parts, 6 
 
 Reasoning, 7 
 
 Practice and Habits, 16 
 
 Ideas, 19 
 
 Principles, 20 
 
 Mathematics, 29 
 
 Religion, 34 
 
 Ideas, 36 
 
 Indifferency, 41 
 
 Examine, 41 
 
 Observations, 46 
 
 Bias, 48 
 
 Arguments, 49 
 
 Haste, 51 
 
 Desultory, 53 
 
 •Smattering, 54 
 
 Universality, 54 
 
 Reading, 58 
 
 Intermediate Principles, 61 
 
 Partiality, G2 
 
 Theology, 63 
 
 Partiality, 65 
 
 Haste, 75 
 
 Anticipation, 78 
 
 Resignation 79 
 
XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 Practice; 80 
 
 Words, 53 
 
 Wandering, • 85 
 
 Distinction, 87 
 
 Similes, 93 
 
 Assent, 95 
 
 Indifferency, 97 
 
 Question, 104 
 
 Perseverance, 104 
 
 Presumption, 105 
 
 Despondency, 106 
 
 Analogy, 110 
 
 Association, Ill 
 
 Fallacies, 115 
 
 Fundamental Verities, 120 
 
 Bottoming, 122 
 
 Transferring of Thoughts, 123 
 
LOCKE'S ESSAY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 CONDUCT OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 
 
 Quid tarn teinerarium tamque indig-num sapientis gra*n« 
 tate atque constantia, quam aut falsum sontire, aut quod non 
 satis explorate perceptum sit et cognitum sine uHa dubitation« 
 defendere ? Cic. de Natura Deorum, lib. 1. 
 
 § 1". Introduction. 
 
 The last resort a man has recourse to in 
 the conduct of himself, is his understanding : 
 for though we distinguish the faculties of the 
 mind, and give the supreme command to the 
 will, as to an agent ; yet the truth is, the 
 man who is the agent determines himself to 
 this or that voluntary action, upon some pre- 
 cedent knowledge, or appearance of knowl- 
 edge in the understanding. No man ever 
 sets himself about any thing but upon some 
 view or other, which serves him for a reason 
 for what he does : and whatsoever faculties 
 he employs, the understanding with such light 
 as it has, well or ill informed, constantly 
 leads ; and by that light, true or false, all hi*? 
 operative powers are directed. The will it- 
 self, how absolute and uncontrollable soever k- 
 may be thought, never fails in its obedience 
 to the dictates of the understanding. Tern- 
 
4 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 pies have their sacred images, and we see 
 what influence they have always had over a 
 great part of mankind. But in truth, the 
 ideas and images in men's minds are the in- 
 visible powers that constantly govern them ; 
 and to these they all universally pay a ready 
 submission. It is, therefore, of the highest 
 concernment, that great care should be taken 
 of the understanding, to conduct it right in 
 the search of knowledge, and in the judg- 
 ments it makes. 
 
 The logic now in use, has so long possessed 
 the chair, as the only art taught in the schools 
 for the direction of the mind in the study of 
 the arts and sciences, that it would perhaps 
 be thought an affectation of novelty to suspect, 
 that rules, that have served the learned world 
 these two or three thousand years, and which 
 without any complaint of defects, the learned 
 have rested in, are not sufficient to guide the 
 understanding. — And I should not doubt but 
 this attempt would be censured as vanity or 
 presumption, did not the great lord Verulam's 
 authority justify it: who, not servilely thinking 
 learning could not be advanced beyond what 
 it was, because for many ages it had not been, 
 did not rest in the lazy approbation and ap- 
 plause of what was, because it was ; but en- 
 larged his mind to what it might be. In his 
 preface to his Novum Organum concerning lo- 
 gic, he pronounces thus: Qui summas dialectical 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 5 
 
 partes tribuerunt, alque inde jidissima scientiis 
 prcesidia comparari pidarunt, verissime et optime 
 viderunt intellectum humanum sibi permissum me- 
 rito suspectum esse debere. Verum injirmior om- 
 nino est malo medicina ; nee ipsa mail expers. 
 Siquidem dialedica, quce recepta est, licet ad civi- 
 lia et artes, quce in sermone et opinione positce 
 sunt, reclissime adhibeatur ; naturce tamen sub- 
 lilitalem longo intervallo non attingit, et pren- 
 sando quod non capit, ad errores potius slabilien- 
 dos et quasi jigendos, quam ad viam veritaii 
 aperiendam valuit. 
 
 u They, says he, who attributed so much to 
 logic, perceived very well and truly, that it 
 was not safe to trust the understanding to it- 
 self, without the guard of any rules. But 
 the remedy reached not the evil, but became 
 a part of it : for the logic which took place, 
 though it might do well enough in civil affairs, 
 and the arts which consisted in talk and opin- 
 ion ; yet comes very far short of subtilty in 
 the real performances of nature, and catch- 
 ing at what it cannot reach, has served to 
 confirm and establish errors, rather than to 
 open a way to truth." And therefore a little 
 after he says, " That it is absolutely necessary 
 that a better and perfecter use and employ- 
 ment of the mind and understanding should 
 be introduced." " Necessamo requirelur ut me- 
 lior et perfectior mentis et intellectus humani uses 
 et adoperatio introducatur" 
 B 
 
6 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 § 2. Parts. 
 
 There is, it is visible, great variety in men's 
 understandings, and their natural constitutions 
 put so wide a difference between some men 
 in this respect, that art and industry would 
 never be able to master ; and their very na- 
 tures seem to want a foundation to raise on it 
 
 that which other men easily attain unto 
 
 Amongst men of equal education there is 
 great inequality of parts. And the woods of 
 America, as well as the schools of Athens, 
 produce men of several abilities in the same 
 kind. Though this be so, yet I imagine most 
 men come very short of what they might attain 
 unto in their several degrees by a neglect of 
 their understandings. A few rules of logic 
 are thought sufficient in this case for those 
 who pretend to the highest improvement ; 
 whereas, I think there are a great many na- 
 tural defects in the understanding capable of 
 amendment, which are overlooked and wholly 
 neglected. And it is easy to perceive that 
 men are guilty of a great many faults in the 
 exercise and improvement of this faculty of 
 the mind, which hinder them in their progress, 
 and keep them in ignorance and error all 
 their lives. Some of them I shall take notice 
 of, and endeavour to point out proper reme- 
 dies for in the following discourse. 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 7 
 
 § 3. Reasoning 
 
 Besides the want of determined ideas, and 
 of sagacity, and exercise in finding out, and 
 laying in order intermediate ideas, there 
 are three miscarriages that men are guilty of 
 in reference to their reason, whereby this 
 faculty is hindered in them from that service 
 it might do and was designed for. And he 
 that reflects upon the actions and discourses of 
 mankind, will find their defects in this kind 
 very frequent, and very observable. 
 
 1. The first is of those who seldom reason 
 at all, but do and think according to the ex- 
 ample of others, whether parents, neighbours, 
 ministers, or w r ho else they are pleased to 
 make choice of to have an implicit faith in, 
 for the saving of themselves the pains and 
 trouble of thinking and examining for them- 
 selves. 
 
 2. The second is of those who put passion 
 in the place of reason, and being resolved 
 that shall govern their actions and arguments, 
 neither use their own, nor hearken to other 
 people's reason, any farther than it suits their 
 humour, interest, or party ; and these one 
 may observe commonly content themselves 
 with words which have no distinct ideas to 
 them, though, in other matters that they 
 come with an unbiassed indiflerency to, they 
 
» OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 want not abilities to talk and hear reason, 
 where they have no secret inclination that 
 hinders them from being tractable to it. 
 
 3. The third sort is of those who readily 
 and sincerely follow reason, but for want of 
 having that which one may call large, sound, 
 round-about sense, have not a full view of all 
 that relates to the question, and may be of 
 moment to decide it. We are all short- 
 sighted, and very often see but one side of a 
 matter ; our views are not extended to all 
 that has a connection with it. From this de- 
 fect I think no man is free. We see but in 
 part, and we know but in part, and there- 
 fore it is no wonder we conclude not right 
 from our partial views. This might instruct 
 the proudest esteemer of his own parts, 
 how useful it is to talk and consult with 
 others, even such as come short of him in 
 capacity, quickness and penetration : for, 
 since no one sees all, and we generally have 
 different prospects of the same thing, accord- 
 ing to our different, as I may say, positions 
 to it, it is not incongruous to think, nor 
 beneath any man to try, whether another 
 may not have notions of things which have 
 escaped him, and which his reason would 
 make use of if they came into his mind. 
 The faculty of reasoning seldom or never 
 deceives those who trust to it ; its conse- 
 quences from what it builds on are evident 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 9 
 
 and certain, but that which it oftenest, if not 
 only, misleads us in, is, that the principles 
 from Avhich we conclude, the grounds upon 
 which we bottom our reasoning, are but a 
 part, something is left out which should go 
 into the reckoning to make it just and exact. 
 Here we may imagine a vast and almost in- 
 finite advantage that angels and separate 
 spirits may have over us ; who, in their sever- 
 al degrees of elevation above us, may be 
 endowed with more comprehensive faculties, 
 and some of them perhaps having perfect 
 and exact views of all finite beings that come 
 under their consideration, can as it were, in 
 the twinkling of an eye, collect together all 
 their scattered and almost boundless relations 
 A mind so furnished, what reason has it to 
 acquiesce in the certainty of its conclusions ! 
 In this we may see the reason why some 
 men of study and thought, that reason right, 
 and are lovers of truth, do make no great 
 advances in their discoveries of it. Error 
 and truth are uncertainly blended in their 
 minds ; their decisions are lame and defec- 
 tive, and they are very often mistaken in 
 their judgments : the reason whereof is, they 
 converse but with one sort of men, they read 
 but one sort of books, they will not come in 
 the hearing but of one sort of notions ; the 
 truth is they canton out to themselves a little 
 Goshen in the intellectual world, where light 
 
10 OP THF CONDUCT 
 
 shines, and as they con&lude, day blesses 
 them ; but the rest of that vast expansion 
 they give up to night and darkness, and 
 so avoid coming near it. They have a pretty 
 traffic with known correspondents in some 
 little creek ; within that they confine them- 
 selves, and are dexterous managers enough 
 of the wares and products of that corner with 
 which they content themselves, but will not 
 venture out into the great ocean of knowledge, 
 to survey the riches that nature hath stored 
 other parts with, no less genuine, no less solid, 
 no less useful, than what has fallen to their lot 
 in the admired plenty and sufficiency of their 
 own little spot, w r hich to them contains what- 
 soever is good in the universe. Those who 
 live thus mewed up within their own con- 
 tracted territories, and will not look abroad 
 beyond the boundaries that chance, conceit, 
 or laziness has set to their inquires, but live 
 separate from the notions, discourses, and at- 
 tainments of the rest of mankind, may not 
 amiss be represented by the inhabitants of 
 the Marian islands ; who being separated by 
 a large tract of sea from all communion with 
 the habitable parts of the earth, thought 
 themselves the only people of the world. 
 And though the straitness of the convenien- 
 ces of life amongst them had never reached 
 so far as to the use of fire, till the Span- 
 iards, not many years since, in iheir voyages 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 11 
 
 from Acapulco to Manilla, brought it amongst 
 them : yet in the want and ignorance of al- 
 most ali things, they looked upon themselves, 
 even after that the Spaniards had brought 
 amongst them the notice of variety of nations 
 abounding in sciences, arts, and conveniences 
 of life, of which they knew nothing, they 
 looked upon themselves, I say, as the hap- 
 piest and wisest people of the universe. But 
 for all that, nobody, I think, will imagine 
 them deep naturalists, or solid metaphysi- 
 cians ; nobody will deem the quickest-sighted 
 among them to have very enlarged views in 
 ethics or politics, nor can any one allow the 
 most capable amongst them to be advanced so 
 far in his understanding, as to have any other 
 knowledge but of the few little things of his 
 and the neighbouring islands within his com- 
 merce ; but far enough from that comprehen- 
 sive enlargement of mind which adorns a 
 soul devoted to truth, assisted with letters, 
 and a free generation of the several views 
 and sentiments of thinking men of all sides. 
 Let not men, therefore, that would have 
 a sight of what every one pretends to be 
 desirous to have a sight of, truth in its full 
 extent, narrow and blind their own prospect. 
 Let not men think there is no truth but in 
 the sciences that they study, or the books 
 that they read. To prejudge other men's 
 notions before we have looked into them, is 
 
12 OF THF CONDUCT 
 
 not to show their darkness, but to put out our 
 own eyes. Try all things, holdfast that which 
 is good, is a divine rule, coming from the Fa- 
 ther of light and truth ; and it is hard to 
 know what other way men can come at truth, 
 to lay hold of it, if they do not dig and search 
 for it as for gold and hid treasure : but he 
 that does so must have much earth and rub 
 bish before he gets the pure metal ; sand, 
 and pebbles, and dross usually lie blended 
 with it, but the gold is nevertheless gold, and 
 will enrich the man that employs his pains to 
 seek and separate it. Neither is there any 
 danger he should be deceived by the mixture 
 Every man carries about him a touchstone, 
 if he will make use of it, to distinguish sub- 
 stantial gold from superficial glitterings, truth 
 from appearances. And indeed the use and 
 benefit of this touchstone, which is natural 
 reason, is spoiled and lost only by assuming 
 prejudices, over-weening presumption, and 
 narrowing our minds. The want of exercis- 
 ing it in the full extent of things intelligible, 
 is that which weakens and extinguishes this 
 noble faculty in us. Trace it, and see whe- 
 ther it be not so. The day-labourer in a 
 country village has commonly but a small 
 pittance of knowledge, because his ideas and 
 notions have been confined to the narrow 
 bounds of a poor conversation and employ- 
 ment : the low mechanic of a country town 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. Y3 
 
 does somewhat outdo him ; porters and coolers 
 of great cities surpass them. A country gen- 
 tleman who, leaving Latin and learning in the 
 university, removes thence to his mansion- 
 house, and associates with neighbours of the 
 same strain, who relish nothing but hunting 
 and a bottle ; with those alone he spends his 
 time, with those alone he converses, and can 
 away with no company whose discourse goes 
 beyond what claret and dissoluteness inspire. 
 Such a patriot formed in this happy way of 
 improvement, cannot fail, as we see, to give 
 notable decisions upon the bench at quarter- 
 sessions, and eminent proofs of his skill in 
 politics when the strength of his purse and party 
 have advanced him to a more conspicuous 
 station. To such a one truly an ordinary 
 coffee-house gleaner of the city is an errant 
 statesman, and as much superior to, as a man, 
 conversant about Whitehall' and the court, is 
 to an ordinary shopkeeper. To carry this a 
 little farther Here is one muffled up in the 
 zeal and infallibility of his own sect, and will 
 not touch a book, or enter into debate with a 
 person that will question any of those things 
 which to him are sacred. Another surveys our 
 differences in religion with an equitable and 
 fair indifference, and so finds probably that 
 none of them are in every thing unexception- 
 able. These divisions and systems were made 
 by men, and carry the mark of fallible ou 
 c 
 
14 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 them ; and in those whom he differs from, and 
 till he opened his eyes, had a general prejudice 
 against, he meets with more to be said for a 
 great many things than before he was aware 
 of, or could have imagined. Which of these 
 two, now, is most likely to judge right in our 
 religious controversies, and to be most stored 
 with truth, the mark all pretend to aim at ? 
 All these men, that I have instanced in, thus 
 unequally furnished with truth, and advanced 
 in knowledge, I suppose of equal natural parts ; 
 all the odds between them has been the differ- 
 ent scope that has been given to their under- 
 standings to range in, for the gathering up of 
 information, and furnishing their heads with 
 ideas and notions and observations, whereon 
 to employ their mind and form their under- 
 standings. 
 
 It will possibly be objected, " who is suffi- 
 cient for all this ?" I answer, more than can 
 be imagined. Every one knows what his 
 proper business is, and what, according to the 
 character he makes of himself, the world may 
 justly expect of him ; and, to answer that, he 
 will find he will have time and opportunity 
 enough to furnish himself, if he will not deprive 
 himself, by a narrowness of spirit, of those 
 helps that are at hand. I do not say, to be a 
 good geographer, that a man should visit 
 every mountain, river, promontory, and creek, 
 upon the face of the earth, view the buildings, 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 15 
 
 and survey the land every where, as if he 
 were going to make a purchase ; but yet every 
 one must allow that he shall know a country 
 better, that makes often sallies into it, and 
 traverses up and down, than he that, like 
 a mill-horse, goes still round in the same 
 track, or keeps within the narrow bounds of a 
 field or two that delight him. He that will 
 inquire out the best books in every science, 
 and inform himself of the most material au- 
 thors of the several sects of philosophy and 
 religion, will not find it an infinite work to 
 acquaint himself with the sentiments of man- 
 kind, concerning the most weighty and com- 
 prehensive subjects. Let him exercise the 
 freedom of his reason and understanding in 
 such a latitude as this, and his mind will be 
 strengthened, his capacity enlarged, his facul- 
 ties improved ; and the light, which the remote 
 and scattered parts of truth will give to one 
 another, will so assist his judgment, that he 
 will seldom be widely out, or miss giving proof 
 of a clear head and a comprehensive know- 
 ledge. At least, this is the only way I know 
 to give the understanding its due improvement 
 to the full extent of its capacity, and to dis- 
 tinguish the two most different things I know 
 in the world, a logical chicaner from a man of 
 reason. Only he, that would thus give the 
 mind its flight, and send abroad his inquiries 
 into all parts after truth, must be sure to settle 
 
16 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 in his head determined ideas of all that he 
 employs his thoughts about, and never fail to 
 judge himself, and judge unbiassedly, of all 
 that he receives from others, either in their 
 writings or discourses. Reverence or prejudice 
 must not be suffered to give beauty or de- 
 formity to any of their opinions. 
 
 § 4. Of Practice and Habits. 
 
 We are born with faculties and powers 
 capable almost of any thing, such at least as 
 would carry us farther than can easily be ima- 
 gined : but ic is only the exercise of those 
 powers which gives us ability and skill in any 
 thing, and leads us towards perfection. 
 
 A middle-aged ploughman will scarce ever 
 be brought to the carriage and language of a 
 gentleman, though his body be as well propor- 
 tioned, and his joints as supple, and his natural 
 parts not any way inferior. The legs of a 
 dancing-master, and the fingers of a musician, 
 fall as it were naturally, without thought or 
 pains, into regular and admirable- motions. 
 Bid them change their parts, and they will in 
 vain endeavour to produce like motions in the 
 members not used to them, and it will require 
 length of time and long practice to attain but 
 some degrees of a like ability. What incredi- 
 ble and astonishing actions do w r e find rope- 
 dancers and tumblers bring their bodies to ! 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 17 
 
 Not but that sundry, in almost all manna! arts, 
 are as wonderful ; but I name those which the 
 world takes notice of for such, because on that 
 very account they give money to see them. 
 All these admired motions, beyond the reach 
 and almost conception of unpractised specta- 
 tors, are nothing but the mere effects of use 
 and industry in men, whose bodies have noth- 
 ing peculiar in them from those of the amazed 
 lookers on. 
 
 As it is in the body, so it is in the mind ; 
 practice makes it what it is, and most even 
 of those excellencies, which are looked on as 
 natural endowments, will be found, when ex- 
 amined into more narrowly, to be the produci 
 of exercise, and to be raised to that pitch only 
 by repeated actions. Some men are remarked 
 for pleasantness in raillery ; others for apo- 
 logues and apposite diverting stories. This is 
 apt to be taken for the effect of pure nature, 
 and that the rather, because it is not got by 
 rules, and those who excel in either of them 
 never purposely set themselves to the study of 
 it, as an art to be learnt. But yet it is true 
 that at first some lucky hit, which took with 
 somebody, and gained him commendation, 
 encouraged him to try again, inclined his 
 thoughts and endeavours that way, till at last 
 he insensibly got a facility in it, without per- 
 ceiving how ; and that is attributed wholly to 
 nature, which was much more the effect of 
 c 2 
 
IB OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 use and practice. I do not deny that natural 
 disposition may often give the first rise to it, 
 but that never carries a man far, without use 
 and exercise ; and it is practice alone that 
 brings the powers of the mind, as well as those 
 of the body, to their perfection. Many a good 
 poetic vein is buried under a trade, and never 
 produces any thing for want of improvement. 
 We see the ways of discourse and reasoning 
 are very different, even concerning the same 
 matter, at court and in the university. And 
 he that will go but from Westminster-hall to 
 the Exchange, will find a different genius and 
 turn in their ways of talking ; and yet one 
 cannot think that all whose lot fell in the city 
 were born with different parts from those who 
 were bred at the university or inns of court. 
 
 To what purpose all this, but to show that 
 the difference, so observable in men's under- 
 standings and parts, does not arise so much 
 from their natural faculties as acquired habits. 
 He would be laughed at that should go about 
 to make a fine dancer out of a country hed- 
 ger, at past fifty. And he will not have much 
 better success, w r ho shall endeavour, at that 
 age, to make a man reason well, or speak 
 handsomely, who has never been used to it, 
 though you should lay before him a collection 
 of all the best precepts of logic or oratory. 
 Nobody is made any thing by hearing of 
 rules, or laying, them up in his memory ; 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 19 
 
 practice must settle the habit of doing with- 
 out reflecting on the rule, and you may as 
 well hope to make a good painter or musician 
 extempore by a lecture and instruction in the 
 arts of music and painting, as a coherent 
 thinker, or a strict reasoner, by a set of rules, 
 showing him wherein right reasoning consists. 
 This being so, that defects and weakness 
 in men's understandings, as well as other 
 faculties, come from want of a right use of 
 their own minds, I am apt to think the fault 
 is generally mislaid upon nature, and there 
 is often a complaint of want of parts, when 
 the fault lies in want of a due improvement 
 of them. We see men frequently dexter- 
 ous and sharp enough in making a bargain, 
 who, if you reason with them about matters 
 of religion, appear perfectly stupid. 
 
 § 5. Ideas. 
 
 I will not here, in what relates to the right 
 conduct and improvement of the under- 
 standing, repeat again the getting clear and 
 determined ideas, and the employing our 
 thoughts rather about them than about sounds 
 put for them, nor cf settling the signification 
 of words which we use with ourselves in the 
 search of truth, or with others in discoursing 
 about it. — -Those hinderances of our under- 
 standings in the pursuit of knowledge I have 
 
20 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 sufficiently enlarged upon in another place , 
 so that nothing more needs here to be said 
 of those matters. 
 
 6. Principles. 
 
 There is another fault that stops or misleads 
 men in their knowledge, which I have also 
 spoken something of, but yet is necessary to 
 mention here again, that we may examine it 
 to the bottom, and see the root it springs 
 from, and that is a custom of taking up with 
 principles that are not self-evident, and very 
 often not so much as true. It is not unusual 
 to see men rest their opinions upon founda- 
 tions that have no more certainty and solidity 
 than the propositions built on them, and em- 
 braced for their sake. Such foundations are 
 these and the like, viz. The founders or lead- 
 ers of my party are good men, and therefore 
 their tenets are true ; it is the opinion of a sect 
 that is erroneous, therefore it is false ; it hath 
 been long received in the world, therefore 
 it is true ; or it is new, and therefore false.. 
 
 These, and many the like, which are by no 
 means the measures of truth and falsehood, 
 the generality of men make the standards by 
 which they accustom their understanding 
 to judge. And thus they falling into a habit 
 of determining of truth and falsehood by such 
 wrong measures, it is no wonder they should 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 21 
 
 embrace error for certainty, and be very 
 positive in things they have no ground for. 
 
 There is not any, who pretends to the 
 least reason, but, when any of these his false 
 maxims are brought to the test, must ac- 
 knowledge them to be fallible, and such as he 
 will not allow in those that differ from him ; 
 and yet after he is convinced of this, you 
 shall see him go on in the use of them, and the 
 very next occasion that offers, argue again 
 upon the same grounds. Would one not be 
 ready to think that men are willing to impose 
 upon themselves, and mislead their own 
 understandings, who conduct them by such 
 wrong measures, even after they see they 
 cannot be relied on ? But yet they will not 
 appear so blameable as may be thought at 
 first sight ; for I think there are a great 
 many that argue thus in earnest, and do it 
 not to impose on themselves or others. They 
 are persuaded of what they say, and think 
 there is weight in it, though in a like casp 
 they have been convinced there is none ; but 
 men would be intolerable to themselves, and 
 contemptible to others, if they should em- 
 brace opinions without any ground, and hold 
 ivhat they could give no manner of reason 
 for. True or false, solid or sandy, the mind 
 must have some foundation to rest itself 
 upon, and, as I have remarked in another 
 place, it no sooner entertains any proposi- 
 
22 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 tion, but it presently hastens to some hy- 
 pothesis to bottom it on, till then it is un- 
 quiet and unsettled. — So much do our own 
 very tempers dispose us to a right use of 
 our understandings, if we would follow as 
 we should the inclinations of our nature. 
 
 In some matters of concernment, especial- 
 ly those of religion, men are not permitted 
 to be always wavering and uncertain, they 
 must embrace and profess some tenets or 
 other ; and it would be a shame, nay a con- 
 tradiction too heavy for any one's mind to 
 lie constantly under, for him to pretend seri- 
 ously to be persuaded of the truth of any 
 religion, and yet not be able to give any rea- 
 son of his belief, or to say any thing for his 
 preference of this to any other opinion ; and 
 therefore they must make use of some prin- 
 ciples or other, and those can be no other 
 than such as they have and can manage : and 
 to say they are not in earnest persuaded by 
 them, and do not rest upon those they make 
 use of, is contrary to experience, and to al- 
 lege that they are not misled when we com- 
 plain they are. 
 
 If this be so, it will be urged, why then do 
 they not make use of sure and unquestionable 
 principles, rather than rest on such grounds 
 as may deceive them, and will, as is visible, 
 serve to support error as well as truth ? 
 
 To this I answer, the reason why they do 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 23 
 
 not make use of better and surer principles, 
 is because they cannot : but this inability 
 proceeds not from want of natural parts (for 
 those few whose case that is are to be ex- 
 cused) but for want of use and exercise. 
 Few men are from their youth accustomed 
 to strict reasoning, and to trace the depen- 
 dence of any truth in a long train of conse- 
 quences to its remotest principles, and to ob- 
 serve its connection ; and he that by frequent 
 practice has not been used to this employ- 
 ment of his understanding, it is no more won- 
 der that he should not, when he is grown into 
 years, be able to bring his mind to it, than 
 that he should not be on a sudden able to 
 grave or design, dance on the ropes, or write 
 a good hand, who has never practised either 
 of them. 
 
 - Nay, the most of men are so wholly strangers 
 to this, that they do not so much as perceive 
 their want of it ; they despatch the ordinary 
 business of their callings by rote, as we say, 
 as they have learned it ; and if at any time 
 they miss success, they impute it to any thing 
 rather than want of thought or skill ; that 
 they conclude (because they know no better) 
 they have in perfection ; or if there be any 
 subject that interest or fancy has recom- 
 mended to their thoughts, their reasoning 
 about it is still after their own fashion ; be it 
 better or worse, it serves their turns, and 
 
£4 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 is the best they are acquainted with ; and 
 therefore when they are led by it into mis- 
 takes, and their business succeeds according- 
 ly, they impute it to any cross accident, oi 
 default of others, rather than to their own 
 want of understanding ; that is, what nobody 
 discovers or complains of in himself. What- 
 soever made his business to miscarry, it was 
 not want of right thought and judgment in 
 himself : he sees no such defect in himself, 
 but is satisfied 4 hat he carries on his designs 
 well enough b^ his own reasoning, or at least 
 should have done, had it not been for unlucky 
 traverses not in his power. Thus being con- 
 tent with this short and very imperfect use of 
 his understanding, he never troubles himself 
 to seek out methods of improving his mind, 
 and lives all his life without any notion of 
 close reasoning^ in a'continued connection of a 
 long train of consequences from sure foun- 
 dations, such as is requisite for the making 
 out and clearing most of the speculative 
 truths most men own to believe and are most 
 concerned in. Not to mention here what I 
 shall have occasion to insist on by and by 
 more fully, viz. that in many cases it is not 
 one series of consequences will serve the 
 turn, but many different and opposite deduc- 
 tions must be examined and laid together, 
 before a man can come to make a right 
 judgment of the point in question. What 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 25 
 
 then can be expected from men that neither 
 see the want of any such kind of reasoning as 
 this : nor, if they do, know how to set about 
 it, or could perform it ? You may as well set 
 a countryman, who scarce knows the figures, 
 and never cast up a sum of three particulars, 
 to state a merchant's long account, and find 
 the true balance of it. 
 
 What then should be done in the case ? I 
 answer, we should always remember what I 
 said above, that the faculties of our souls are 
 improved and made useful to us just after the 
 same manner as our bodies are. Would you 
 have a man write or paint, dance or fence 
 well, or perform any other manual operation 
 dexterously and with ease ; let him have ever 
 so much vigour and activity, suppleness and 
 address naturally, yet nobody expects this 
 from him, unless he has been used to it, and 
 has employed time and pains in fashioning 
 and forming his hand, or outward parts to these 
 motions. Just so it is in the mind : would you 
 have a man reason well, you must use him to 
 it betimes, exercise his mind in observing the 
 connexion of ideas, and following them in 
 train. Nothing does this better than mathe- 
 matics, which, therefore, I think should be 
 taught all those who have the time and oppor- 
 tunity ; not so much to make them mathema- 
 ticians, as to make them reasonable creatures ; 
 for though we all call ourselves so, because 
 
 D 
 
26 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 we are born to it, if we please ; yet we may 
 truly say, nature gives us but the seeds of it : 
 we are born to be, if we please, rational crea- 
 tures ; but it is use and exercise only that 
 make us so, and we are, indeed, so no farther 
 than industry and application have carried us. 
 And, therefore, in ways of reasoning, which 
 men have not been used to, he that will observe 
 the conclusions they take up, must be satisfied 
 they are not all rational. 
 
 This has been the less taken notice of, be- 
 cause every one, in his private affairs, uses 
 some sort of reasoning or other, enough to 
 denominate him reasonable. But the mistake 
 is, that he that is found reasonable in one 
 thing, is concluded to be so in all, and to think 
 or to say otherwise is thought so unjust an af- 
 front, and so senseless a censure, that nobody 
 ventures to do it. It looks like the degradation 
 of a man below the dignity of his nature. It 
 is true, that he that reasons well in any one 
 thing has a mind naturally capable of reasoning 
 well in others, and to the same degree of 
 strength and clearness, and possibly much 
 greater, had his understanding been so em- 
 ployed. But it is as true that he who can 
 reason well to-day about one sort of matters, 
 cannot at all reason to-day about others, 
 though perhaps a year hence he may. But 
 wherever a man's rational faculty fails him, 
 and will not serve him to reason, there we 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 27 
 
 cannot say he is rational, how capable soev- 
 er he may be, by time and exercise, to be- 
 come so. 
 
 Try in men of low and mean education, who 
 have never elevated their thoughts above the 
 spade and the plough, nor looked beyond the 
 ordinary drudgery of a day-labourer. Take 
 the thoughts of such an one, used for many 
 years to one track, out of that narrow com- 
 pass, he has been all his life confined to, you 
 will find him no more capable of reasoning 
 than almost a perfect natural. Some one or 
 two rules, on which their conclusion imme- 
 diately depend, you will find in most men have 
 governed all their thoughts ; these, true or 
 false, have been the maxims they have been 
 guided by : take these from them, and they 
 are perfectly at a loss, their compass and pole- 
 star then are gone, and their understanding is 
 perfectly at a nonplus ; and therefore they 
 either immediately return to their old maxims 
 again, as the foundations of all truth to them, 
 notwithstanding all that can be said to show 
 their weakness ; o .* if they give them up to 
 their reasons, they, with them, give up all 
 truth and farther inquiry, and think there is 
 no such thing as certainty. For if you would 
 enlarge their thoughts, and settle them upon 
 more remote and surer principles, they either 
 cannot easily apprehend them ; or, if they 
 can, know not what use to make of them ; for 
 
28 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 long deductions from remote principles are 
 what they have not been used to, and cannot 
 manage. 
 
 What then, can grown men never be im- 
 proved, or enlarged in their understandings ? 
 I say not so ; but this I think I may say, that 
 it will not be done without industry and appli- 
 cation, which will require more time and 
 pains than grown men, settled in their course 
 of life, will allow to it, and therefore very sel- 
 dom is done. And this very capacity of at- 
 taining it, by use and exercise only, brings us 
 back to that which I laid down before, that it 
 is only practice that improves our minds as 
 well as bodies, and we must expect nothing 
 from our understandings, any farther than they 
 are perfected by habits. 
 
 The Americans are not all born with worse 
 understandings than the Europeans, though we 
 see none of them have such reaches in the arts 
 and sciences. And, among the children of a 
 poor countryman, the lucky chance of educa- 
 tion, and getting into the world, gives one in- 
 finitely the superiority in parts over the rest, 
 who, continuing at home, had continued also 
 just of the same size with his brethren. 
 
 He that has to do with young scholars, 
 especially in mathematics, may perceive how 
 their minds open by degrees, and how it is ex- 
 ercise alone that opens them. Sometimes they 
 will stick a long t v ime at a part of demonstra- 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 29 
 
 tion, not for want of will and application, but 
 really for want of perceiving the connexion of 
 two ideas, that, to one whose understanding is 
 more exercised, is as visible as any thing can 
 be. The same would be with a grown man 
 beginning to study mathematics ; the under- 
 standing, for want of use, often sticks in eve- 
 ry plain way, and he himself that is so puz- 
 zled, when he comes to see the connexion, 
 wonders what it was he stuck at, in a case so 
 plain. 
 
 § 7. Mathematics. 
 
 I have mentioned mathematics as a way to 
 settle in the mind a habit of reasoning closely 
 and in train ; not that I think it necessary 
 that all men should be deep mathematicians, 
 but that, having got the way of reasoning, 
 which that study necessarily brings the mind 
 to, they might be able to transfer it to other 
 parts of knowledge, as they shall have occa- 
 sion. For, in all sorts of reasoning, every sin- 
 gle argument should be managed as a mathe- 
 matical demonstration : the connexion and de- 
 pendence of ideas should be followed, till the 
 mind is brought to the source on which it bot- 
 toms, and observes the coherence all along, 
 though in proofs of probability one such train 
 is not enough to settle the judgment, as in de- 
 monstrative knowledge. 
 n2 
 
30 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 Where a truth is made out by one demon- 
 stration, there needs no farther inquiry ; but 
 in probabilities, where there wants demonstra- 
 tion to establish the truth beyond doubt, there 
 it is not enough to trace one argument to its 
 source, and observe its strength and weakness, 
 but all the arguments, after having been so 
 examined on both sides, must be laid in bal- 
 ance one against another, and, upon the whole, 
 the understanding determine its assent. 
 
 This is a way of reasoning the understand- 
 ing should be accustomed to, which is so dif- 
 ferent from what the illiterate are used to, 
 that even learned men oftentimes seem to 
 have very little or no notion of it. Nor is it 
 to be wondered, since the way of disputing, 
 in the schools, leads them quite away from it, 
 by insisting on one topical argument, by the 
 success of which the truth or falsehood of the 
 question is to be determined, and victory ad- 
 judged to the opponent or defendant ; which 
 is all one as if one should balance an account 
 by one sum, charged and discharged, when 
 there are an hundred others to be taken into 
 consideration. 
 
 This, therefore, it would be well if mens' 
 minds were accustomed to, and that early ; 
 that they might not erect their opinions upon 
 one single view, when so many other are requi- 
 site to make up the account, and must come 
 into the reckoning, before a man can form a 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 31 
 
 right judgment. This would enlarge their 
 minds, and give a due freedom to their under- 
 standings, that they might not be led into er- 
 ror by presumption, laziness, or precipitancy ; 
 for I think nobody can approve such a con- 
 duct of the understanding as should mislead it 
 from truth, though it be ever so much in fash- 
 ion to make use of it. 
 
 To this perhaps it will be objected, that to 
 manage the understanding as I propose would 
 require every man to be a scholar, and to be 
 furnished with all the materials of knowledge, 
 and exercised in all the ways of reasoning. 
 To which I answer, that it is a shame for 
 those that have time, and the means to attain 
 knowledge, to want any helps or assistance, 
 for the improvement of their understandings, 
 that are to be got ; and to such I would be 
 thought here chiefly to speak. Those me- 
 thinks, who by the industry and parts of their 
 ancestors, have been set free from a constant 
 drudgery to their backs and their bellies, 
 should bestow some of their spare time on 
 their heads, and upon their minds, by some 
 trials and essays, in all the sorts and matters 
 of reasoning. I have before mentioned ma- 
 thematics, wherein algebra gives new helps 
 and views to the understanding. If I propose 
 these, it is not, as I said, to make every man 
 a thorough mathematician, or a deep algebra- 
 ist ; but yet I think the study of them is of 
 
32 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 infinite use, even to grown men ; first, by ex- 
 perimentally convincing them, that to make 
 any one reason well, it is not enough to have 
 parts wherewith he is satisfied, and that serve 
 him well enough in his ordinary course. A 
 man in those studies will see, that however 
 good he may think his understanding, yet in 
 many things, and those very visible, it may fail 
 him. This would take off that presumption 
 that most men have of themselves in this 
 part ; and they would not be so apt to think 
 their minds wanted no helps to enlarge them, 
 that there could be nothing added to the 
 acuteness and penetration of their understand- 
 ings. 
 
 Secondly, The study of mathematics would 
 show them the necessity there is in reasoning, 
 to separate all the distinct ideas, and see the 
 habitudes that all those concerned in the pres- 
 ent inquiry have to one another, and to lay by 
 those which relate not to the proposition in 
 hand, and wholly to leave them out of the 
 reckoning. This is that which in other sub- 
 jects, besides quantity, is what is absolutely 
 requisite to just reasoning, though in them it 
 is not so easily observed, nor so carefully 
 practised. In those parts of knowledge where 
 it is thought demonstration has nothing to do, 
 men reason as it were in the lump ; and if, 
 upon a summary and confused view, or upon 
 a partial consideration, they can raise the ap- 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 33 
 
 pearance of a probability, they usually rest 
 content ; especially if it be in a dispute where 
 every little straw is laid hold on, and every 
 thing that can but be drawn in any way to 
 give colour to the argument is advanced with 
 ostentation. But that mind is not in a posture 
 to find the truth, that does not distinctly take 
 all the parts asunder, and, omitting what is 
 not at all to the point, draw a conclusion from 
 the result of all the particulars which any 
 way influence it. There is another no less 
 useful habit to he got by an application to 
 mathematical demonstrations, and that is, of 
 using the mind to a long train of consequen- 
 ces ; but having mentioned that already, J 
 shall not again here repeat it. 
 
 As to men whose fortunes and time are 
 narrower, what may suffice them is not of 
 that vast extent as may be imagined and so 
 comes not within the objection. 
 
 Nobody is under an obligation to know 
 every thing. Knowledge and science in gen- 
 eral is the business onlv of those^who are at 
 ease and leisure. Those who have particular 
 callings ought to understand them ; and it is 
 no unreasonable proposal, nor impossible to 
 be compassed, that they should think and 
 reason right about what is their daily employ- 
 ment. This one cannot think them incapable 
 of, without levelling them with the brutes, 
 
34 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 and charging them with a stupidity below the 
 rank of rational creatures. 
 
 5} 8. Religion. 
 
 Besides his particular calling for the support 
 of this life, every one has a concern in a fu- 
 ture life, which he is bound to look after. 
 This engages his thoughts in religion ; and 
 here it mightily lies upon him to understand 
 and reason right. Men, therefore, cannot 
 be excused from understanding the words, and 
 framing the general notions relating to reli- 
 gion, right. The one day of seven, besides 
 other days of rest, allows in the Christian 
 world time enough for this (had they no other 
 idle hours) if they would but make use of 
 these vacancies from their daily labour, and 
 apply themselves to an improvemnt of knowl- 
 edge with as much diligence as they often do 
 to a great many other things that are useless, 
 and had but those that would enter them ac- 
 cording to their several capacities in a right 
 way to this knowledge. The original make 
 of their minds is like that of other men, and 
 they would be found not to want understand- 
 ing fit to receive the knowledge of religion, if 
 they were a little encouraged and helped in it, 
 as they should be. For there are instances 
 of very mean people, who have raised their 
 minds to a great sense and understanding of 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 35 
 
 religion : and though these have not been so 
 frequent as could be wished ; yet they are 
 enough to clear that condition of life from a 
 necessity of gross ignorance, and to show 
 that more might be brought to be rational 
 creatures and Christians (for they can hardly 
 be thought really to be so, who, wearing the 
 name, know not so much as the very princi- 
 ples of that religion) if due care were taken 
 of them. For, If I mistake not, the peas- 
 antry lately in France (a rank of people un- 
 der a much heavier pressure of want and 
 poverty than the day-labourers in England) 
 of the reformed religion understood it much 
 better, and could say more for it than those 
 of a higher condition among us. 
 
 But if it shall be concluded that the mean- 
 er sort of people must give themselves up to 
 brutish stupidity in the things of their nearest 
 concernment, which I see no reason for, this 
 excuses not those of a freer fortune and 
 education, if they neglect their understand- 
 ings, and take no care to employ them as 
 they ought, and set them right in the knowl- 
 edge of those things for which principally 
 they were given them. At least those, whose 
 plentiful fortunes allow them the opportunities 
 and helps of improvements, are not so few, 
 but that it might be hoped great advance- 
 ments might be made in knowledge of all 
 kinds, especially in that of the greatest con- 
 
36 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 cern and largest views, if men would make 
 a right use of their faculties, and study their 
 own understandings. 
 
 § 9. Ideas. 
 
 Outward corporeal objects, that constantly 
 importune our senses, and captivate our ap- 
 petites, fail not to fill our heads with lively 
 and lasting ideas of that kind. Here the 
 mind needs not to be set upon getting greater 
 store ; they offer themselves fast enough, and 
 are usually entertained in such plenty, and 
 lodged so carefully, that the mind wants room 
 or attention for others that it has more use and 
 need of. To fit the understanding therefore 
 for such reasoning as I have been above 
 speaking of, care should be taken to fill it 
 with moral and more abstract ideas ; for 
 these not offering themselves to the senses, 
 but being to be framed to the understanding 
 people are generally so neglectful of a faculty 
 they are apt to think wants nothing, that I 
 fear most men's minds are more unfurnished 
 with such ideas than is imagined. They often 
 use the words, and how can they be suspected 
 to want the ideas ? What I have said in the 
 third book of my Essay, will excuse me from 
 any other answer to this question. But to 
 convince people of what moment it is to 
 their understandings to be furnished with 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 37 
 
 such abstract ideas steady and settled in 
 them, give me leave to ask how any one shall 
 be able to know whether he be obliged to be 
 just, if he has not established ideas in his 
 mind of obligation and of justice, since knowl- 
 edge consists in nothing but the perceived 
 agreement or disagreement of those ideas ? 
 and so of all others the like, which concern 
 our lives and manners. And if men do find 
 a difficulty to see the agreement or disagree- 
 ment of two angles which lie before their 
 eyes, unalterable in a diagram, how utterly 
 impossible will it be to perceive it in ideas 
 that have no other sensible objects to repre- 
 sent them to the mind but sounds, with which 
 they have no manner of conformity, and 
 therefore had need to be clearly settled in 
 the mind themselves, if we would make any 
 clear judgment about them. This therefore 
 is one of the first things the mind should be 
 employed about in the right conduct of the 
 understanding, without which it is impossible 
 it should be capable of reasoning right about 
 those matters. But in these, and all other 
 ideas, care must be taken that they harbour 
 no inconsistencies, and that they have a real 
 existence where real existence is supposed, 
 and are not mere chimeras with a supposed 
 existence. 
 
 D 
 
38 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 §10. Prejudice. 
 
 Every one is forward to complain of the 
 prejudices that mislead other men or parties, 
 as if he were free, and had none of his own. 
 This being objected on all sides, it is agreed, 
 that it is a fault and an hinderance to knowl- 
 edge. What now is the cure ? No other but 
 this, that every man should let alone other's 
 prejudices, and examine his own. — Nobody 
 is convinced of his by the accusation of 
 another, he recriminates by the same rule, 
 and is clear. The only way to remove this 
 great cause of ignorance and error out of 
 the world is for every one impartially to ex- 
 amine himself. If others will not deal fairly 
 with their own minds, does that make mv 
 errors truths ? or ought it to make me in love 
 with them, and willing to impose on myself ? 
 If others love cataracts in their eyes, should 
 that hinder me from couching mine as soon 
 as I can ? Every one declares against blind- 
 ness, and yet who almost is not fond of that 
 which dims his sight and keeps the clear light 
 out of his mind, which should lead him into 
 truth and knowledge ? False or doubtful 
 positions, relied upon as unquestionable max- 
 ims, keep those in the dark from truth who 
 build on them. Such are usually the preju- 
 dices imbibed from education, party, rever- 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 39 
 
 ence, fashion, interest. See. This is the mote 
 which every one sees in his brother's eye, 
 but never regards the beam in his own. For 
 who is there almost that is ever brought fairly 
 to examine his own principles, and see whe- 
 ther they are such as will bear the trial ? But 
 yet this should be one of the first things every 
 one should set about, and be scrupulous in, 
 who would rightly conduct his understanding 
 in the search of truth and knowledge. 
 
 To those who are willing to get rid of this 
 great hinderance of knowledge (for to such 
 only I write) to those who would shake off 
 this great and dangerous impostor prejudice, 
 who dresses up falsehood in the likeness of 
 truth, and so dexterously hoodwinks men's 
 minds , as to keep them in the dark, with a 
 belief that they are more in the light than 
 any that do not see with their eyes ; I shall 
 offer this one mark whereby prejudice may 
 be known. He that is strongly of any opin- 
 ion, must suppose (unless he be self-con- 
 demned) that his persuasion is built upon 
 good grounds ; and that his assent is no 
 greater than what the evidence of the truth 
 lie holds forces him to ; and that they are 
 arguments, and not inclination or fancy, that 
 make him so confident and positive in his 
 tenets. Now, if after all his profession, he 
 cannot bear any opposition to his opinion, if 
 
40 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 he carrot so much as give a patient hearing, 
 much less examine and weigh the arguments 
 on the other side, does he not plainly confess 
 it is prejudice governs him ? and it is not the 
 evidence of truth, but some lazy anticipation, 
 some beloved presumption that he desires to 
 rest undisturbed in. For if what he holds be, 
 as he gives out, well fenced with evidence, and 
 he sees it to be true, what need he fear to put 
 it to the proof ? If his opinion be settled upon 
 a firm foundation, if the arguments that sup- 
 port it, and have obtained his assent, be clear 
 good, and convincing, why should he be shy if 
 have it tried whether they be proof or t 
 He whose assent goes beyond his evu 
 owes this excess of his adherence only to ^ - 
 judice, and does in effect own it, when 
 refuses to hear what is offered against it 
 declaring thereby, that it is not evidence k 
 seeks, but the quiet enjoyment of the opinio 
 he is fond of, with a forward condemnatio 
 of all that may stand in opposition to it, un 
 heard and unexamined ; which, what is it bu 
 prejudice ? Qui cequum statuerit parte inaudiib 
 altered eliamsi cequum statuerit, haud cequusfuer 
 it. He that would acquit himself in this case 
 as a lover of truth, not giving way to any 
 preoccupation or bias that may mislead him, 
 must do two things that are not very common, 
 nor very easy. 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 4 
 
 5) 11. Indifferency. 
 
 First, he must not be in love with any opin 
 ion, or wish it to be true, till he knows it tc 
 be so, and then he will not need to wish it 
 for nothing that is false can deserve our good 
 wishes, nor a desire that it should have the 
 place and force of truth ; and yet nothing is 
 more frequent than this. Men are fond of 
 certain tenets upon no other evidence but 
 respect and custom, and think they must 
 maintain them, or all is gone ; though they 
 have never examined the ground they stand 
 on, nor have ever made them out to them- 
 selves, or can make them out to others : we 
 should contend earnestly for the truth, but 
 we should first be sure that it is truth, or else 
 we fight against God, who is the God of truth, 
 and do the work of the devil, who is the 
 father and propagator of lies ; and our zeal, 
 though ever so warm, will not excuse us, for 
 this is plainly prejudice. 
 
 § 12. Examine. 
 
 Secondly, he must do that which he will find 
 himself very averse to, as judging the thing 
 unnecessary, or himself incapable of doing 
 it. He must try whether his principles be 
 certainly true, or not, and how far he may 
 safely rely upon them. This, whether fewer 
 e2 
 
42 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 have the heart or the skill to do, T shall not 
 determine ; but this, I am sure, is that which 
 every one ought to do, who professes to love 
 truth, and would not impose upon himself ; 
 which is a surer way to be made a fool of 
 than by being exposed to the sophistry of 
 others. The disposition to put any cheat 
 upon ourselves works constantly, and we are 
 pleased with it, but are impatient of being ban- 
 tered or misled by others. The inability I here 
 speak of is not any natural defect that makes 
 men incapable of examining their own princi- 
 ples. To such, rules of conducting their 
 understandings are useless; and that is the case 
 of very few. The great number is of those 
 whom the ill habit of never exerting their 
 thoughts has disabled ; the powers of their 
 minds are starved by disuse, and have lost 
 that reach and strength which nature fitted 
 them to receive from exercise. Those who 
 are in a condition to learn the first rules of 
 plain arithmetic, and could be brought to cast 
 up an ordinary sum, are capable of this, if 
 they had but accustomed their minds to rea- 
 soning : but they that have wholly neglected 
 the exercise of their understandings in this 
 way, will be very far, at first, from being 
 able to do it, and as unfit for it as one un- 
 practised in figures to cast up a shop-book, 
 and, perhaps, think it as strange to be set 
 about it. And yet it must nevertheless be 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 43 
 
 confessed to be a wrong use of our understand- 
 ings, to build our tenets (in things where we 
 are concerned to hold the truth) upon prin- 
 ciples that may lead us into error. We take 
 our principles at hap-hazard, upon trust, and 
 without ever having examined them, and then 
 believe a whole system, upon a presumption 
 that they are true and solid ; and what is all 
 this, but childish, shameful, senseless cre- 
 dulity ? 
 
 In these two things, viz. an equal in- 
 differency for all truth ; I mean the receiving 
 it, the love of it, as truth, but not loving it 
 for any other reason, before we know it to 
 be true ; and in the examination of our prin- 
 ciples, and not receiving any for such, nor 
 building on them, till we are fully convinced, 
 as rational creatures, of their solidity, truth, 
 and certainty ; consists that freedom of the 
 understanding which is necessary to a rational 
 creature, and without w r hich it is not truly 
 an understanding. It is conceit, fancy, ex- 
 travagance, any thing rather than under- 
 standing, if it must be under the constraint 
 of receiving and holding opinions by the 
 authority of any thing but their own, not 
 fancied, but perceived, evidence. This was 
 rightly called imposition, and is of all other 
 the worst and most dangerous sort of it. For 
 we impose upon ourselves, which is the 
 strongest imposition of all others ; and we 
 
44 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 impose upon ourselves in that part which 
 ought with the greatest care to be kept free 
 from all imposition. The world is apt to cast 
 great blame on those who have an indifferen- 
 cy for opinions, especially in religion. I fear 
 this is the foundation of great error and 
 worse consequences. To be indifferent which 
 of two opinions is true, is the right temper of 
 the mind that preserves it from being imposed 
 on, and disposes it to examine with that in- 
 differency, till it has done its best to find the 
 truth, and this is the only direct and safe way to 
 it. But to be indifferent whether we embrace 
 falsehood or truth, is the great road to error. 
 Those who are not indifferent which opinion 
 is true, are guilty of this ; they suppose with- 
 out examining, that what they hold is true, 
 and they think they ought to be zealous for 
 it. Those, it is plain by their warmth and 
 eagerness, are not indifferent for their own 
 opinions, but methinks are very indifferent 
 whether they be true or false ; since they 
 cannot endure to have any doubts raised, 
 or objections made against them ; and it is 
 visible they never have made any themselves, 
 and so, never having examined, know not, 
 nor are concerned, as they should be, to 
 know whether they be true or false. 
 
 These are the common and most general 
 miscarriages which I think men should avoid, 
 or rectify, in a right conduct of their under- 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 45 
 
 standings, and should be particularly taken 
 care of in education. The business whereof, 
 in respect of knowledge, is not, as I think, to 
 perfect a learner in all or any one of the 
 sciences, but to give his mind that freedom, 
 that disposition, and those habits, that may 
 enable him to attain any part of knowledge 
 he shall apply himself to, or stand in need of 
 in the future course of his life. 
 
 This, and this only, is well principling, and 
 not the instilling a reverence and veneration 
 for certain dogmas, under the specious title 
 of principles, which are often so remote from 
 that truth and evidence which belongs to prin- 
 ciples, that they ought to be rejected, as false 
 and erroneous ; and often cause men so edu- 
 cated, when they come abroad into the world, 
 and find they cannot maintain the principles 
 so taken up and rested in, to cast oft* all prin- 
 ciples, and turn perfect skeptics, regardless 
 of knowledge and virtue. 
 
 There are several weaknesses and defects 
 in the understanding, either from the natural 
 temper of the mind, or ill habits taken up, 
 which hinder it in its progress to knowledge. 
 Of these, there are as many, possibly, to be 
 found, if the mind were thoroughly studied, as 
 there are diseases of the body, each whereof 
 clogs and disables the understanding to some 
 degree, and therefore deserves to be looked 
 after and cured \ shall set down some few 
 
46 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 to excite men, especially those who make 
 knowledge their business, to look into them- 
 selves, and observe whether they do not in- 
 dulge some weaknesses, allow some miscar- 
 riages in the management of their intellect- 
 ual faculty, which is prejudicial to them in 
 the search of truth. 
 
 §13. Observations 
 
 Particular matters of fact are the un- 
 doubted foundations on which our civil and 
 natural knowledge is built : the benefit the 
 understanding makes of them is to draw from 
 them conclusions, which may be as standing 
 rules of knowledge, and consequently of 
 practice. The mind often makes not that 
 benefit it should of the information it receives 
 from the accounts of civil or natural histo- 
 rians, by being too forward or too slow in 
 making observations on the particular facts 
 recorded in them. 
 
 There are those who are very assiduous, 
 in reading, and yet do not much advance 
 their knowledge by it. They are delighted 
 with the stories that are told, and perhaps 
 can tell them again, for they make all they 
 read nothing but history to themselves ; but 
 not reflecting on it, not making to them- 
 selves observations from what they read, they 
 are very little improved by all that crowd of 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 47 
 
 particulars, that either pass through, or lodge 
 themselves in, their understandings. They 
 dream on in a constant course of reading and 
 cramping themselves, but not digesting any 
 thing, it produces nothing but a heap of cru- 
 dities. 
 
 If their memories retain well, one may say 
 they have the materials of knowledge, but 
 like those for building, they are of no advan- 
 tage, if there be no other use made of them 
 but to let them lie heaped up together. — Op- 
 posite to these there are others who lose the 
 improvement they should make of matters of 
 fact by a quite contrary conduct. They are 
 apt to draw general conclusions, and raise ax- 
 ioms from every particular they may meet 
 with. These make as little true benefit of 
 history as ihe other ; nay, being of forward 
 and active spirits, receive more harm by it ; 
 it being of worse consequence to steer one's 
 thoughts by a wrong rule, than to have none 
 at all ; error doing to busy men much more, 
 harm than ignorance to the slow and sluggish. 
 Between these, those seem to do best, who 
 taking material and useful hints, sometimes 
 from single matters of fact, carry them into 
 their minds to be judged of, by what they 
 shall find in history to confirm or reverse these 
 imperfect observations ; which may be estab- 
 lished into rules fit to be relied on, when they 
 are justified by a suificient and wary induction 
 
48 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 of particulars. He that makes no such re 
 flections on what he reads, only loads his mind 
 with a rhapsody of tales fit in winter nights 
 for the entertainment of others : and he that 
 will improve every matter of fact into a max- 
 im, will abound in contrary observations, that 
 can be of no other use but to perplex and 
 pudder him if he compares them ; or else to 
 misguide him, if he gives himself up to the 
 authority of that, which for its novelty, or 
 for some other fancy, best pleases him. 
 
 §14. Bias. 
 
 Next to these, we may place those, who suffer 
 their own natural tempers and passions they are 
 possessed with to influence their judgments, es- 
 pecially of men and things that may any way 
 relate to their present circumstances and in- 
 terest. Truth is all simple, all pure, will bear 
 no mixture of any thing else with it. It is 
 rigid and inflexible to any bye interests ; and 
 so should the understanding be, whose use a»ad 
 excellency lies in conforming itself to it. To 
 think of every thing just as it is in itself, is 
 the proper business of the understanding, 
 though it be not that which men always em- 
 ploy it to. This all men, at first hearing, al- 
 low is the right use every one should make of 
 his understanding. Nobody will be at such an 
 open defiance with common sense, as to pro 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 49 
 
 fess that we should not endeavour to know, 
 and think of things as they are in themselves, 
 and yet there is nothing more frequent than 
 to do the contrary ; and men are apt to ex- 
 cuse themselves, and think they have reason to 
 do so, if they have but a pretence that it is 
 for God, or a good cause ; that is, in effect for 
 themselves, their own persuasion or party ; for 
 to those in their turns the several sects of men 
 especially in matters of religion, entitle God 
 and a good cause. But God requires not men 
 to wrong or misuse their faculties for him, nor 
 to lie to others or themselves for his sake : 
 which they purposely do, who will not suffer 
 their understandings to have right conceptions 
 of the things proposed to them, and design- 
 edly restrain themselves from having just 
 thoughts of every thing, as far as they are 
 concerned to inquire. And as fcr a good 
 cause, that needs not such ill helps ; if it be 
 good, truth will support it, and it has no need 
 of fallacy or falsehood. 
 
 § 15. Arguments. 
 
 Very much of kin to this is the hunting after 
 arguments to make good one side of a ques- 
 tion, and wholly to neglect and refuse those 
 which favour the other side. What is this 
 but wilfully to misguide the understanding, 
 and is so far from giving truth its due value, 
 w 
 
50 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 that it wholly debases it : espouse opinions 
 that best comport with their power, profit, or 
 credit, and then seek arguments to support 
 them ? Truth lit upon this way is of no 
 more avail to us than error ; for what is so ta- 
 ken up by us maybe false as well as true, and 
 he has not done his duty who has thus stum- 
 bled upon truth in his way to preferment. 
 
 There is another but more innocent way of 
 collecting arguments, very familiar among 
 bookish men, which is to furnish themselves 
 with the arguments they meet with pro and 
 con in the questions they study. This helps 
 them not to judge right, nor argue strongly, 
 but only to talk copiously on either side, 
 without being steady and settled in their own 
 judgments : for such arguments gathered from 
 other men's thoughts, floating only in the me- 
 mory, are there ready indeed to supply copi- 
 ous talk with some appearance of reason, but 
 are far from helping us to judge right. Such 
 variety of arguments only distract the under- 
 standing that relies on them, unless it has gone 
 farther than such a superficial way of examin- 
 ing : this is to quit truth for appearance, only 
 to serve our vanity. The sure and only way 
 to get true knowledge, is to form in our minds 
 clear settled notions of things, with names an- 
 nexed to those determined ideas. These we 
 are to consider, with their several relations 
 and habitudes, and not amuse ourselves with 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 5\ 
 
 floating names, and words of indetermined 
 signification, which we can use in several 
 senses to serve a turn. It is in the perception 
 of the habitudes and respects our ideas have 
 one to another, that real knowledge consists ; 
 and when a man once perceives how far they 
 agree or disagree one with another, he will be 
 able to judge of what other people say, and 
 will not need to be led by the arguments of 
 others, which are many of them nothing but 
 plausible sophistry. This will teach him to 
 state the question right, and see whereon it 
 turns ; and thus he will stand upon his own 
 legs, and know by bis own understanding, 
 whereas by collecting and learning arguments 
 by heart, he will be but a retainer to others ; 
 and when any one questions the foundations 
 they are built upon, he will be at a nonplus, 
 and be fain to give up his implicit knowledge. 
 
 § 16. Haste. 
 
 Labour for labour-sake is against nature. 
 The understanding, as well as all the other 
 faculties, chooses always the shortest way to 
 its end, would presently obtain the knowledge 
 it is about, and then set upon some new in- 
 quiry. But this, whether laziness or haste, 
 often misleads it, and makes it content itself 
 with improper ways of search, and such as 
 will not serve the turn : sometimes it rests 
 
52 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 upon testimony, when testimony of right has 
 nothing to do, because it is easier to believe 
 than to be scientifically instructed: sometimes 
 it contents itself with one argument, and rests 
 satisfied with that, as it were a demonstra- 
 tion ; whereas the thing under proof is not 
 capable of demonstration, and therefore must 
 be submitted to the trial of probabilities, and 
 all the material arguments pro and con be ex- 
 amined and brought to a balance. In some 
 cases the mind is determined by probable 
 topics in inquiries, where demonstration may 
 be had. AH these and several others, which 
 laziness, impatience, custom, and want of use 
 and attention lead men into, are misapplica- 
 tions of the understanding in the search of 
 truth. In every question the nature and man- 
 ner of the proof it is capable of should be con- 
 sidered, to make our inquiry such as it should 
 be. This would save a great deal of frequent- 
 ly misemployed pains, and lead us sooner to 
 that discovery and possession of truth we are 
 capable of. The multiplying variety of ar- 
 guments, especially frivolous ones, such as are 
 all that are merely verbal, is not only lost la- 
 bour, but cumbers the memory to no pur- 
 pose, and serves only to hinder it from siez- 
 ing and holding of the truth in all those cases 
 which are capable of demonstration. In such 
 a way of proof the truth and certainty is seen, 
 and the mind fully possesses itself of it ; 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 63 
 
 when in the other way of assent it only- 
 hovers about it, is amused with uncertainties. 
 In this superficial way, indeed, the mind is 
 capable of more variety of plausible talk 5 
 but is not enlarged, as it should be, in its 
 knowledge. It is to this same haste and im- 
 patience of the mind also, that a not due 
 tracing of the arguments to their true foun- 
 dation is owing ; men see a little, presume a 
 great deal, and so jump to the conclusion. 
 This is a short way to fancy and conceit, and 
 (if firmly embraced) to opinionatry, but is 
 certainly the farthest way about to knowl- 
 edge. For he that will know, must by the 
 connexion of the proofs see the truth, and 
 the ground it stands on ; and therefore, if 
 he has for haste skipped over what he should 
 have examined, he must begin and go over 
 all again, or else he will never come to knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 § 17. Desultory. 
 
 Another fault of as ill consequence as this, 
 which proceeds also from laziness, with a 
 mixture of vanity, is the skipping from one 
 sort of knowledge to another. Some men's 
 tempers are quickly weary of any one thing. 
 Constancy and assiduity is what they cannot 
 bear : the same study long continued in is as 
 intolerable to them as the appearing long in 
 E 
 
54 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 the same clothes , or fashion, is to a court- 
 lady. 
 
 § 18. Smattering. 
 
 Others, that they may seem universally 
 knowing, get a little smattering in every 
 thing. Both these may fill their heads with 
 superficial notions of things, hut are very 
 much out of the way of attaining truth or 
 knowledge. 
 
 § 19. Universality. 
 
 I do not here speak against the taking a taste 
 of every sort of knowledge ; it is certainly 
 very useful and necessary to form the mind ; 
 but then it must he done in a different way, 
 and to a different end. Not for talk and 
 vanity to fill the head with shreds of all kinds, 
 that he who is possessed of such a frippery 
 may be able to match the discourses of all 
 he shall meet with, as if nothing could come 
 amiss to him ; and his head was so well 
 stored a magazine, that nothing could be pro- 
 posed which he was not master of, and was 
 readily furnished to entertain any one. — 
 This is an excellency, indeed, and a great 
 one too, to have a real and true knowledge iu 
 all, or most of the objects of contemplation. 
 But it is what the mind of one and the same 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING OO 
 
 man can hardly attain unto ; and the instan- 
 ces are so few of those who have, in any 
 measure, approached towards it, that I know 
 not whether they are to he proposed as ex- 
 amples in the ordinary conduct of the under- 
 standing. For a man to understand fully the 
 business of his particular calling in the com- 
 monwealth, and of religion, which is his call- 
 ing as he is a man in the world, is usually 
 enough to take up his whole time ; and there 
 are few that inform themselves in these, 
 which is every man's proper and peculr 
 business, so to the bottom as they should u-j. 
 But though this be so, and there are very 
 few men that extend their thoughts toward 
 universal knowledge ; jet I do not doubt, but 
 if the right way were taken, and the methods 
 of inquiry were ordered as they should be, 
 men of little business and great leisure might 
 go a great deal farther in it than is usually 
 done. To return to the business in hand; the 
 end and use of a little insight in those parts 
 of knowledge, which are not a man's proper 
 business, is to accustom our minds to all sorts 
 of ideas, and the proper ways of examining 
 their habitudes and relations. This gives 
 the mind a freedom, and the exercising the 
 understanding in the several ways of inquiry 
 and reasoning, which the most skilful have 
 made use of, teaches the mind sagacity and 
 wariness, and a suppleness to apply itself 
 
56 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 more closely and dexterously to the bents 
 and turns of the matter in all its researches. 
 Besides, this universal taste of all the scien- 
 ces, with an indifferency before the mind is 
 possessed with any one in particular, and 
 grown into love and admiration of what is made 
 its darling, will prevent another evil, very 
 commonly to be observed in those who have 
 from the beginning been seasoned only by 
 one part of knowledge. Let a man be given 
 up to the contemplation of one sort of knowl- 
 edge, and that will become every thing. The 
 mind will take such a tincture from a famili- 
 arity with that object, that every thing else, 
 how remote soever, will be brought under 
 the same view. A metaphysician will bring 
 ploughing and gardening immediately to ab- 
 stract notions : the history of nature shall 
 signify nothing to him. An alchymist, on 
 the contrary, shall reduce divinity to the 
 maxims of his laboratory ; explain morality 
 by sal, sulphur, and mercury ; and allegorize 
 the Scripture itself, and the sacred mysteries 
 thereof, into the philosopher's stone. And X 
 heard once a man, who had a more than 
 ordinary excellency in music, seriously ac- 
 commodate Moses's seven days of the first 
 week to the notes of music, as if from thence 
 had been taken the measure and method of 
 the creation. It is of no small consequence 
 to keep the mind from such a possession, 
 
OP THE UNDERSTANDING. 51 
 
 which I think is best done by giving it a fair 
 and equal view of the whole intellectual 
 world, wherein it may see the order, rank, 
 and beauty of the whole, and give a just 
 allowance to the distinct provinces of the 
 several sciences in the due order and useful- 
 ness of each of them. 
 
 If this be that which old men will not think 
 necessary, nor be easily brought to ; it is fit, 
 at least, that it should be practised in the 
 breeding of the young. The business of 
 education, as I have already observed, is not, 
 as I think, to make them perfect in any one 
 of the sciences, but so to open and dispose 
 their minds, as may best make them capable 
 of any, when they shall apply themselves to 
 it. If men are, for a long time, accustomed 
 only to one sort or method of thoughts, their 
 minds grow stiff in it, and do not readily turn 
 to another. It is, therefore, to give them 
 this freedom, that I think they should be 
 made to look into all sorts of knowledge, and 
 exercise their understandings in so wide a 
 variety and stock of knowledge. But I do 
 not propose it as a variety and stock of knowl- 
 edge, but a variety and freedom of think- 
 ing, as an increase of the powers and activi- 
 ty of the mind, not as an enlargement of its 
 possessions. 
 
58 OF THE CONIKJCT 
 
 5)20. Reading. 
 
 This is that which I think great readers are 
 apt to be mistaken in. Those who have read 
 of every thing, are thought to understand 
 every thing too ; but it is not always so. 
 Reading furnishes the mind only with materi- 
 als of knowledge ; it is thinking makes what 
 we read ours. We are of the ruminating 
 kind, and it is not enough to cram ourselves 
 with a great load of collections, unless we 
 chew them over again, they will not give us 
 strength and nourishment. There are, in- 
 deed, in some writers visible instances of deep 
 thoughts, close and acute reasoning, and ideas 
 well pursued. The light these would give 
 would be of great use, if their reader would 
 observe and imitate them ; all the rest at 
 best are but particulars fit to be turned into 
 knowledge ; but that can be done only by 
 our own meditation, and examining the reach, 
 force, and coherence of what is said ; and 
 then, as far as we apprehend and see the 
 connexion of ideas, so far it is ours ; without 
 that, it is but so much loose matter floating 
 in our brain. The memory may be stored, 
 but the judgment is little better, and the 
 stock of knowledge not increased, by being 
 able to repeat what others have said, or pro- 
 duce the arguments we have found in them 
 Such a knowledge as this is but knowledge by 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 59 
 
 hearsay, and the ostentation of it is at best 
 but talking by rote, and very often upon 
 weak and wrong principles For all that is to 
 be found in books is not built upon true foun- 
 dations, nor always rightly deduced from the 
 principles it is pretended to be built on. Such 
 an examen as is requisite to discover that, 
 every reader's mind is not forward to make ; 
 especially in those who have given themselves 
 up to a party, and only hunt for what they 
 can scrape together, that may favour and 
 support the tenets of it. Such men wilfully 
 exclude themselves from truth, and from all 
 true benefit to be received by reading. Others 
 of more indifferency often want attention and 
 industry. The mind is backward in itself to 
 be at the pains to trace every argument to its 
 original, and to see upon what basis it stands, 
 and how firmly ; but yet it is this that gives 
 so much the advantage to one man more 
 than another in reading. The mind should by 
 severe rules be tied down to this, at first, un- 
 easy task ; use and exercise will give it facili- 
 ty. So that those who are accustomed to it 
 readily, as it were with one cast of the eye, 
 take a view of the argument, and presently, 
 in most cases, see where it bottoms. Those 
 who have got this faculty, one may say, have 
 got the true key of books, and the clue to 
 lead them through the mizmaze of variety 
 oi' opinions and authors to truth and certain- 
 
60 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 ty. This young beginners should be entered 
 in, and showed the use of, that they may 
 profit by their reading. Those who are stran- 
 gers to it will be apt to think it too great a 
 clog in the way of men's studies, and they 
 will suspect they shall make but small pro- 
 gress, if, in the books they read, they must 
 stand to examine and unravel every argument, 
 and follow it step by step up to its original. 
 
 I answer, this is a good objection, and 
 ought to weigh with those whose reading is 
 designed for much talk and little knowledge, 
 and I have nothing to say to it. But I am 
 here inquiring into the conduct of the under- 
 standing in its progress towards knowledge ; 
 and to those who aim at that, I may say, that 
 he who fair and softly goes steadily forward 
 in a course that points right, will sooner be at 
 his journey's end, than he that runs after 
 every one he meets, though he gallop all day 
 full-speed. 
 
 To which let me add, that this way of 
 thinking on, and profiting by, what we read, 
 will be a clog and rub to any one only in 
 the beginning : when custom and exercise 
 have made it familiar it will be despatched, 
 on most occasions, without resting or inter- 
 ruption in the course of our reading. The 
 motions and views of a mind exercised that 
 way are wonderfully quick ; and a man used 
 to such sort of reflections see as much at, 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 61 
 
 one glimpse as would require a long discourse 
 to lay before another, and make out in an en- 
 tire and gradual deduction. Besides, that 
 when the first difficulties are over, the delight 
 and sensible advantage it brings, mightily en- 
 courages and enlivens the mind in reading, 
 which without this is very improperly called 
 study. 
 
 §21. Intermediate principles 
 
 As an help to this, I think it may be proposed, 
 that, for the saving the long progression of 
 the thoughts to remote and first principles in 
 every case, the mind should provide its sever- 
 al stages ; that is to say, intermediate princi- 
 ples, w r hich it might have recourse to in the 
 examining those positions that come in its 
 way. These, though they are not self-evi- 
 dent principles, yet if they have been made 
 out from them by a wary and unquestionable 
 deduction, may be depended on as certain 
 and infallible truths, and serve as unquestion- 
 able truths to prove other points depending on 
 them by a nearer and shorter view than re- 
 mote and general maxims. These may serve 
 as land-marks to show what lies in the direct 
 way of truth, or is quite besides it. And thus 
 mathematicians do, who do not in every new 
 problem run it back to the first axioms, 
 through all the whole train of intermediate 
 
62 OP THE CONDUCT 
 
 propositions. Certain theorems, that they 
 have settled to themselves upon sure demon- 
 stration, serve to resolve to them multitudes 
 of propositions which depend on them, and 
 are as firmly made out from thence, as if the 
 mind went afresh over every link of the whole 
 chain that ties them to first self-evident prin- 
 ciples. Only in other sciences great care is 
 to he taken that they establish those interme- 
 diate principles with as much caution, exact- 
 ness, and indifTerency, as mathematicians use 
 in the settling any of their great theorems. 
 When this is not done, but men take up the 
 principles in this or that science upon credit, 
 inclination, interest, &lc. in haste, without due 
 examination, and most unquestionable proof, 
 they lay a trap for themselves, and as much as 
 in them lies captivate their understandings to 
 mistake, falsehood, and error. 
 
 § 22. Partiality. 
 
 As there is a partiality to opinions, which, as 
 we have already observed, is apt to mislead 
 the understanding ; so there is often a partial- 
 ity to studies, which is prejudicial also to 
 knowledge and improvement. Those sciences, 
 which men are particularly versed in, they are 
 apt to value and extol, as if that part of know- 
 ledge, which every one has acquainted him- 
 self with, were that alone which was worth 
 
OP THE UNDERSTANDING. 63 
 
 the having, and alj the rest were idle, and 
 empty amusements, comparatively of no use 
 or importance. This is the effect of ignorance 
 and not knowledge, the being vainly puffed up 
 with a flatulency, arising' from a weak and 
 narrow comprehension. It is not amiss that 
 every one should relish the science that he has 
 made his peculiar study : a view of its beau- 
 ties, and a sense of its usefulness, carries a 
 man on with the more delight and warmth in 
 the pursuit and improvement of it. But the 
 contempt of all other knowledge, as if it were 
 nothing in comparison of law or physic, of as- 
 tronomy or chemistry, or perhaps some yet 
 meaner part of knowledge, wherein I have 
 got some smattering, or am somewhat advan- 
 ced, is not only the mark of a vain or little 
 mind ; but does this prejudice in the conduct 
 of the understanding, that it coops it up with- 
 in narrow bounds, and hinders it from looking 
 abroad into other provinces of the intellectu- 
 al world, more beautiful possibly, and more 
 fruitful than that which it had till then labour- 
 ed in ; wherein it might find, besides new 
 knowledge, ways or hints whereby it might be 
 enabled the better to cultivate its own. 
 
 § 23. Theology 
 
 There is indeed one science (as they are now 
 distinguished) incomparably above all the rest, 
 
64 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 where it is not by corruption narrowed into a 
 trade of faction, for mean or ill ends, and 
 secular interests ; I mean theology, which, 
 containing the knowledge of God and his 
 creatures, our duty to him and our fellow- 
 creatures and a view of our present and fu- 
 ture state, is the comprehension of all other 
 knowledge directed to its true end ; i. e. the 
 honour and veneration of the Creator, and 
 the happiness of mankind. This is that noble 
 study which is every man's duty, and every 
 one that can be called a rational creature is 
 capable of. The works of nature, and the 
 words of revelation, display it to mankind in 
 characters so large and visible, that those who 
 are not quite blind may in them read, and see 
 the first principles and most necessary parts 
 of it ; and from thence, as they have time 
 and industry, may be enabled to go on to the 
 more abstruse parts of it, and penetrate into 
 those infinite depths filled with the treasures 
 of wisdom and knowledge. This is that sci- 
 ence which would truly enlarge men's minds, 
 were it studied, or permitted to be studied ev- 
 ery where, with that freedom, love of truth 
 and charity which it teaches, and were not 
 made, contrary to its nature, the occasion of 
 strife, faction, malignity, and narrow imposi- 
 tions. I shall say no more here of this, but 
 that it is undoubtedly a wrong use of my un- 
 derstanding, to make it the rule and measur 
 
 • 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 65 
 
 a use which it is neither 
 fit for, nor capable of. 
 
 § 24. Partiality. 
 
 This partiality, where it is not permitted an 
 authority to render all other studies insignifi- 
 cant or contemptible, is often indulged so far 
 as to be idied upon, and made use of in other 
 parts of knowledge, to which it does not at all 
 belong, and wherewith it has no manner of 
 affinity. Some men have so used their heads 
 to mathematical figures, that, giving a prefer- 
 ence to the methods of that science, they in- 
 troduce lines and diagrams into their study of 
 divinity, or politic inquiries, as if nothing 
 could be known without them ; and others, 
 accustomed to retired speculations, run natu- 
 ral philosophy into metaphysical notions, and 
 the abstract generalities of logic ; and how 
 often may one meet with religion and morali- 
 ty treated of in the terms of the laboratory, 
 and thought to be improved by the methods 
 and notions of chemistry ? But he, that will 
 take care of the conduct of his understand- 
 ing to direct it right to the knowledge of 
 things, must avoid those undue mixtures, and 
 not by a fondness for what he has found useful 
 and necessary in one, transfer it to another 
 science, where it serves only to perplex and 
 confound the understanding. It is a certain 
 c2 
 
66 OF .THE CONDUCT 
 
 truth, that res nolunt male administrari ; it is 
 no less certain res nolunt male intelligi. Things 
 themselves are to be considered as they are 
 in themselves, and then they will show as in 
 what way they are to be understood. For to 
 have right conceptions about them, we must 
 bring our understandings to the inflexible na- 
 tures, and unalterable relations of things, and 
 not endeavour to bring things to any precon- 
 ceived, notions of our own. 
 
 There is another partiality very commonly 
 observable in men of study, no less prejudi- 
 cial nor ridiculous than the former ; and that 
 is a fantastical and wild-attributing all know- 
 ledge to the ancients alone, or to the moderns 
 This raving upon antiquity in matter of poe- 
 try, Horace has wittily described and exposed 
 in one of his satires. The same sort of mad- 
 ness may be found in reference to all the 
 other sciences. Some will not admit an opin- 
 ion not authorised by men of old, who were 
 then all giants in knowledge. Nothing is to 
 be put into the treasury of truth or knowledge, 
 Avhich has not the stamp of Greece or Rome 
 upon it ; and, since their days, will scarce al- 
 low that men have been able to see, think, or 
 write. Others, with a like extravagancy, 
 contemn all that the ancients have left us, and 
 being taken with the modern inventions and 
 discoveries, lay by all that went before, as if 
 whatever is called old must have the decay of 
 
OF THE- UNDERSTANDING. 67 
 
 time upon it, and truth too were liable to 
 mould and rottenness. Men, I think, have 
 been much the same for natural endowments 
 in all times. Fashion, discipline, and educa- 
 tion, have put eminent differences in the ages 
 of several countries, and made one generation 
 much differ from another in arts and sciences: 
 but truth is always the same ; time alters it 
 not, nor is it the better or worse for being of 
 ancient or modern tradition. Many were 
 eminent in former ages of the world for their 
 discovery and delivery of it ; but though the 
 knowledge they have left us be worth our 
 study, yet they exhausted not all its treasure; 
 they left a great deal for the industry and 
 sagacity of after-ages, and so shall we. That 
 was once new to them which any one now 
 receives with veneration for its antiquity, nor 
 was it the worse for appearing as a novelty ; 
 and that which is now embraced for its new- 
 ness will to posterity be old, but not thereby 
 be less true or less genuine. There is no occa- 
 sion, on this account, to oppose the ancients 
 and the moderns to one another, or to be 
 squeamish on either side. He that wisely 
 conducts his mind in the pursuit of knowledge 
 will gather what lights, and get what helps he 
 can, from either of them, from whom they are 
 best to be had, without adoring the errors, or 
 rejecting the truths^ which he mav find ming- 
 led in them 
 
68 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 Another partiality may be observed, in some 
 to vulgar, in others to heterodox tenets: some 
 are apt to conclude that what is the common 
 opinion cannot but be true ; so many men's 
 eyes they think cannot but see right ; so 
 many men's understandings of all sorts can- 
 not be deceived ; and, therefore, will net ven- 
 ture to look beyond the received notions of 
 the place and age, nor have so presumptuous 
 a thought as to be wiser than their neighbours. 
 They are content to go with the crowd, and 
 so go easily, which they think is going right, 
 or at least serves them as well. But, however 
 vox pofwli vox Dei has prevailed as a maxim, 
 yet I do not remember where ever God de- 
 livered his oracles by the multitude, or nature 
 truths by the herd. On the other side, some 
 fly all common opinions as either false or 
 frivolous. The title of many-headed beast is 
 a sufficient reason to them to conclude that 
 no truths of weight or consequence can be 
 lodged there. Vulgar opinions are suited to 
 vulgar capacities, and adapted to the ends of 
 those that govern. He that will know the 
 truth of things must leave the common and 
 beaten track, which none but weak and ser- 
 vile minds are satisfied to trudge along con- 
 tinually in. Such nice palates relish nothing 
 but strange notions quite out of the way: 
 whatever is commonly received, has the mark 
 of the beast on it ; and they think it a lessen- 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 69 
 
 ing to them to hearken to it, or receive it ; 
 their mind runs only after paradoxes ; these 
 they seek, these they embrace, these alone 
 they vent ; and so, as they think, distinguish 
 themselves from the vulgar. But common or 
 uncommon are not the marks to distinguish 
 truth or falsehood, and therefore should not 
 be any bias to us in our inquiries. We should 
 not judge of things by men's opinions, but of 
 opinions by things. The multitude reason 
 but ill, and therefore may be well suspected, 
 and cannot be relied on, nor should be follow- 
 ed as a sure guide ; but philosophers, who 
 have quitted the orthodoxy of the community, 
 and the popular doctrines of their countries, 
 have fallen into as extravagant and as absurd 
 opinions as ever common reception counten- 
 anced. Jt would be madness to refuse to 
 breathe the common air, or quench one's 
 thirst with water, because the rabble use them 
 to these purposes : and if there are conven- 
 iences of life which common use reaches not, 
 it is not reason to reject them because they 
 are not grown into the ordinary fashion of the 
 country, and every villager doth not know 
 them. 
 
 Truth, whether in or out of fashion, is the 
 
 measure of knowledge, and the business of 
 
 the understanding ; whatsoever is besides 
 
 that, however authorized by consent, or re- 
 
 F 
 
70 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 commended by rarity, is nothing but lgno 
 ranee, or something worse. 
 
 Another sort of partiality there is, whereby 
 men impose upon themselves, and by it make 
 their reading little useful to themselves : I 
 mean the making use of the opinions of wri- 
 ters, and laying stress upon their authorities, 
 wherever they find them to favour their own. 
 opinions. 
 
 There is nothing almost has done more 
 harm to men dedicated to letters than giving 
 the name of study to reading, and making a 
 man of great reading to be the same with a 
 man of great knowledge, or at least to be 
 a title of honour. All that can be recorded 
 in writing are only facts or reasonings. Facts 
 are of three sorts ; 
 
 1. Merely of natural agents, observable in 
 the ordinary operations of bodies one upon 
 another, whether in the visible course of 
 things left to themselves, or in experiments 
 made by men, applying agents and patients 
 to one another, after a peculiar and artificial 
 manner. 
 
 2. Of voluntary agents, more especially 
 the actions of men in society, which makes 
 civil and moral history. 
 
 3. Of opinions. 
 
 In these three consists, as it seems to me, 
 that which commonly has the name of learn- 
 ing ; to which perhaps some may add a dis- 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 71 
 
 tinct head of critical writings, which indeed 
 at bottom is nothing but matter of fact ; and 
 resolves itself into this, that such a man, or 
 set of men, used such a word, or phrase, in 
 such a sense i. e. that they made such sounds 
 the marks of such ideas. 
 
 Under reasonings I comprehend all the dis- 
 coveries of general truths made by human 
 reason, whether found by intuition, demon- 
 stration or probable deductions. And this is 
 that which is, if not alone knowledge, (be- 
 cause the truth or probability of particular 
 propositions may he known too) yet is, as 
 may be supposed, most properly, the busi- 
 ness of those who pretend to improve their 
 understandings, and make themselves know- 
 ing by reading. 
 
 Books and reading are looked upon to be 
 the great helps of the understanding, and in- 
 struments of knowledge, as it must be allowed 
 that they are ; and yet I beg leave to ques- 
 tion whether these do not prove a hinderance 
 to many, and keep several bookish men from 
 attaining to solid and true knowledge. This, I 
 think, I may be permitted to say, that there is 
 no part wherein the understanding needs a more 
 careful and wary conduct than in the use of 
 books ; without which they will prove rather 
 innocent amusements than profitable employ- 
 ments of our time, and bring but small ad 
 ditions to our knowledge. 
 
72 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 There is not seldom to be found, even 
 among those who aim at knowledge, who with 
 an unwearied industry employ their whole time 
 in books, who scarce allow themselves time to 
 eat or sleep, but read, and read, and read on, 
 yet make no great advances in real knowl- 
 edge, though there be no defect in their 
 intellectual faculties, to which their little pro- 
 gress can be imputed. The mistake here is, 
 that it is usually supposed that by reading, the 
 author's knowledge is transfused into the 
 readers's understanding ; and so it is, but not 
 by bare reading, but by reading and under- 
 standing what he writ. Whereby I mean, 
 not barely comprehending what is affirmed or 
 denied in each proposition (though that great 
 readers do not always think themselves con- 
 cerned precisely to do,) but to see and follow 
 the train of reasonings, observe the strength 
 and clearness of their connexion, and examine 
 upon what they bottom. Without this a man 
 may read the discourses of a very rational 
 author, writ in a language, and in propositions, 
 that he very well understands, and yet ac- 
 quire not one jot of his knowledge ; which 
 consisting only in the perceived, certain, or 
 probable connexion of the ideas made use of 
 in his reasonings, the reader's knowledge is 
 no farther increased than he perceives that ; 
 so much as he sees of this connexion, so much 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 73 
 
 he knows of the truth or probability of that 
 author's opinions. 
 
 All that he relies on without this perception, 
 he takes upon trust upon the author's credit, 
 without any knowledge of it at all. Tftis 
 makes me not at all wonder to see some men 
 so abound in citations, and build so much upon 
 authorities, it being the sole foundation on 
 which they bottom most of their own tenets ; 
 so that, in effect, they have but a second- 
 hand, or implicit knowledge, i. e. are in the 
 right if such an one, from whom they borrow- 
 ed it, were in the right in that opinion which 
 they took from him ; which indeed is no know- 
 ledge at all. Writers of this or former ages may 
 be good witnesses of matters of fact which they 
 deliver, which we may do well to take upon 
 their authority ; but their credit can go no 
 farther than this, it cannot at all affect the 
 truth and falsehood of opinions, which have 
 no other sort of trial but reason and proof, 
 which they themselves made use of to make 
 themselves knowing, and so must others too 
 that will partake in their knowledge. Indeed 
 it is 'In advantage that they have been at the 
 pains to find out the proofs, and lay them in 
 that order that may show the truth or proba- 
 bility of their conclusions ; and for this we 
 owe them great acknowledgements for saving 
 us the pains in searching those proofs which 
 they have collected for us, and which possi- 
 
 H 
 
74 OP THE CONDUCT 
 
 bly, after all our pains, we might not have 
 found, nor been able to have set them in so 
 good a light as that which they left them us 
 in. — Upon this account we are mightily be- 
 holden to judicious writers of all ages, for 
 those discoveries and discourses they have left 
 behind them for our instruction, if we know how 
 to make a right use of them ; which is not to 
 run them over in a hasty perusal, and perhaps 
 lodge their opinions, or some remarkable pas- 
 sages in our memories ; but to enter into their 
 reasonings, examine their proofs, and then 
 judge of the truth or falsehood, probability or 
 improbability of what they advance ; not by 
 any opinion we have entertained of the au- 
 thor, but by the evidence he produces, and 
 the conviction he affords us, drawn from things 
 tnemselves. Knowing is seeing, and if it be 
 so, it is madness to persuade ourselves that we 
 do so by another man's eyes, let him use ever 
 so many words to tell us, that what he asserts 
 is very visible. Till we ourselves see it with 
 our own eyes, and perceive it by our own un- 
 derstandings, we are as much in the dark, and 
 as void of knowledge as before, let us believe 
 any learned author as much as we will. 
 
 Euclid and Archimedes are allowed to be 
 knowing, and to have demonstrated what they 
 say ; and yet whoever shall read over their 
 writings without perceiving the connexion of 
 their proofs, and seeing what they show, though 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 75 
 
 he may understand all their words, yet he is 
 not the more knowing : he may believe in- 
 deed, but does not know what they say, and 
 so is not advanced one jot in mathematical 
 knowledge by all his reading of those approv- 
 ed mathematicians. 
 
 § 25. Haste. 
 
 The eagerness and strong bent of the mind af- 
 ter knowledge, if not warily regulated, is of- 
 ten an hindrance to it. It still presses into 
 farther discoveries and new objects, and catch- 
 es at the variety of knowledge, and therefore 
 often stays not long enough on what is before 
 it, to look into it as it should, for haste to pur- 
 sue what is yet out of sight. He that rides 
 post through a country, may be able, from the 
 transient view, to tell how in general the parts 
 lie, and may be able to give some loose de- 
 scription of here a mountain, and there a 
 plain, here a morass, and there a river ; wood- 
 land in one part, and savannahs in another. 
 Such superficial ideas and observations as 
 these he may collect ii galloping over it : but 
 the more useful observations of the soil, 
 plants, animals, and inhabitants, with their 
 several sorts and properties, mii2>t necessarily 
 escape him ; and it is seldom men ever dis- 
 cover the rich mines, without some digging. 
 
76 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 Nature commonly lodges her treasures and 
 jewels in rocky ground. If the matter be 
 knotty, and the sense lies deep, the mind must 
 stop and buckle to it, and stick upon it with 
 labour and thought, and close contemplation, 
 and not leave it till it has mastered the diffi- 
 culty, and got possession of truth. But here 
 care must be taken to avoid the other extreme: 
 a man must not stick at every useless nicety, 
 and expect mysteries of science in every tri- 
 vial question or scruple that he may raise. 
 He that will stand to pick up and examine ev- 
 ery pebble that comes in his way, is as unlike- 
 ly to return enriched and laden with jewels, as 
 the other that travelled full speed. Truths 
 are not the better nor the worse for their ob- 
 viousness or difficulty, but their value is to be 
 measured by their usefulness and tendency. 
 Insignificant observations should not take up 
 any of our minutes, and those that enlarge our 
 view, and give light towards farther and use- 
 ful discoveries, should not be neglected, though 
 they stop our course, and spend some of our 
 time in a fixed attention 
 
 There is another haste that does often, and 
 will mislead the mind if it be left to itself and 
 its own conduct. The understanding is natu- 
 rally forward, not only to learn its knowledge 
 by variety (which makes it skip over one to 
 get speedily to another part of knowledge) 
 but also eager to enlarge its views, by running 
 
 ^.=~. 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 77 
 
 too fast into general observations and conclu- 
 sions, without a due examination of particu- 
 lars enough whereon to found those general 
 axioms. This seems to enlarge their stock, 
 but it is of fancies, not realities ; such the- 
 ories built upon narrow foundations stand but 
 weakly, and, if they fall not of themselves, 
 are at least very hardly to be supported 
 against the assaults of opposition. — And thus 
 men being too hasty to erect to themselves 
 general notions and ill-grounded theories, find 
 themselves deceived in their stock of know- 
 ledge, when they come to examine their hastily 
 assumed maxims themselves,ortohave them*at- 
 tacked by others. General observations drawn 
 from particulars, are the jewels of knowledge, 
 comprehending great store in a little room ; 
 but they are therefore to be made with the 
 greater care and caution, lest if we take coun- 
 terfeit for true, our loss and shame be the 
 greater when our stock comes to a severe 
 scrutiny. One or two particulars may suggest 
 hints of inquiry, and they do well to take 
 those hints ; but if they turn them into con- 
 clusions, and make them presently general 
 rules, they are forward indeed, but it is only 
 to impose on themselves by propositions as- 
 sumed for truths without sufficient warrant 
 To make such observations, is, as has been 
 already remarked, to make the head a maga- 
 zine of materials, which can hardly ne called 
 h2 
 
78 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 knowledge, or at least it is but like a collec- 
 tion of lumber not reduced to use or order ; 
 and he that makes every thing an observation, 
 has the same useless plenty, and much more 
 falsehood mixed with it. The extremes on 
 both sides are to be avoided, and he will be 
 able to give the best account of his studies 
 who keeps his understanding in the right mean 
 between them. 
 
 §26. Anticipation. 
 
 Whether it be a love of that which brings the 
 first light and information to their minds, and 
 want of vigour and industry to inquire ; or else 
 that men content themselves with any appear- 
 ance of knowledge, right or wrong ; which, 
 when they have once got, they will hold fast : 
 this is visible, that many men give themselves 
 up to the first anticipations of their minds, and 
 are very tenacious of the opinions that first 
 possess them ; they are often as fond of their 
 first conceptions as of their first born, and will 
 by no means recede from the judgment they 
 have once made, or any conjecture or conceit 
 which they have once entertained. This is a 
 fault in the conduct of the understanding, since 
 this firmness, or rather stiffness of the mind, 
 is not from an adherence to truth, but a sub- 
 mission to prejudice. It is an unreasonable 
 homage paid to prepossession, wdiereby we 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING, 79 
 
 show a reverence not to (what we pretend to 
 seek) truth, but what by hap-hazard we chance 
 to light on, be it what it will. This is visibly 
 a preposterous use of our faculties, and is a 
 downright prostituting of the mind to resign it 
 thus, and put it under the power of the first 
 comer. This can never be allowed, or ought 
 to be followed as a right way to knowledge, 
 till the understanding (whose business it is to 
 conform itself to what it finds in the objects 
 without) can by its own opinionatry change 
 that, and make the unalterable nature of things 
 comply with its own hasty determinations, 
 which will never be. Whatever we fancy, 
 things keep their course ; and the habitudes, 
 correspondences, and relations, keep the same 
 to one another. 
 
 § 27. Resignation. 
 
 Contrary to these, but by a like dangerous 
 excess on the other side, are those who always 
 resign their judgment to the last man they 
 heard or read. Truth never sinks into these 
 men's minds, nor gives any tincture to them, 
 but cameleon-like, they take the colour of 
 what is laid before them, and as soon lose and 
 resign it to the next that happens to come in 
 their way. The order wherein opinions are 
 proposed or received by us, is no rule of their 
 rectitude, nor ou«rht to be a cause of their pre- 
 
80 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 Terence. First or last in this case, is the ef- 
 fect of chance, and not the measure of truth 
 or falsehood. This every one must confess, 
 and therefore should, in the pursuit of truth, 
 keep his mind free from the influence of any 
 such accidents. A man may as reasonably 
 draw cuts for his tenets, regulate his persuasion 
 the cast of a die, as take it up for its novelty, 
 or retain it because it had his first assent, and 
 he was never of another mind. Well-weigh- 
 ed reasons are to determine the judgment ; 
 those the mind should be always ready to 
 hearken and submit to, and by their testimo- 
 ny and suffrage, entertain or reject any tenet 
 indifferently, whether it be a perfect stranger, 
 or an old acquaintance. 
 
 § 28. Practice. 
 
 Though the faculties of the mind are improv- 
 ed by exercise, yet they must not be put to a 
 stress beyond their strength. Quid valeant 
 humeri, quid ferre recusent, must be made the 
 measure of every one's understanding who has 
 a desire not only to perform well, but to keep 
 up the vigour of his faculties, and not to ba^lk 
 his understanding by what is too hard for it. 
 The mind, by being engaged in a task beyond 
 its strength, like the body, strained by lifting 
 at a weight too heavy, has often its force 
 broken, and thereby gets an unaptness or an 
 
OP THE UNDERSTANDING. 81 
 
 aversion to any vigorous attempt ever after 
 A sinew cracked seldom recovers its former 
 strength, or at least the tenderness of the 
 sprain remains a good while after, and the 
 memory of it longer, and leaves a lasting cau- 
 tion in the man not to put the part quit kly 
 again to any robust employment. So it hive* 
 in the mind once jaded by an attempt above 
 its power ; it either is disabled for the future, 
 or else checks at any vigorous undertaking 
 ever after, at least is very hardly brought to 
 exert its force again on any subject that re- 
 quires thought and meditation. The under- 
 standing should be brought to the difficult and 
 knotty parts of knowledge, that try the 
 strength of thought, and a full bent of the 
 mind by insensible degrees, and in such a 
 gradual proceeding nothing is too hard for it. 
 Nor let it be objected, that such a slow pro- 
 gress will never reach the extent of some sci- 
 ences. — It is not to be imagined how far con- 
 stancy will carry a man ; however, it is better 
 walking slowly in a rugged way, than to break 
 a leg and be a cripple. He that begins with 
 the calf may carry the ox ; but he that will at 
 first go to take up an ox, may so disable him- 
 self, as not be able to lift up a calf after that. 
 When the mind, by insensible degrees, has 
 brought itself to attention and close thinking, 
 it will be able to cope with difficulties, and 
 master them without any prejudice to itself, 
 
82 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 and then it may go on roundly. Every ab- 
 struse problem, every intricate question, will 
 not baffle, discourage, or break it. But 
 though putting the mind unprepared upon an 
 unusual stress, that may discourage or damp 
 it for the future, ought to be avoided ; yet 
 this must not run it, by an over-great shyness 
 of difficulties, into a lazy sauntering about or- 
 dinary and obvious things, that demand no 
 thought or application. This debases and en- 
 ervates the understanding, makes it weak and 
 unfit for labour. This is a sort of hovering 
 about the surface of things, without any in- 
 sight into them or penetration ; and when the 
 mind has been once habituated to this laxy re- 
 cumbency and satisfaction on the obvious sur- 
 face of things, it is in danger to rest satisfied 
 there, and go no deeper, since it cannot do it 
 without pains and digging. He that has for 
 some time accustomed himself to take up with 
 what easily offers itself at first view 3 has rea- 
 son to fear he shall never reconcile himself to 
 the fatigue of turning and tumbling of things in 
 his mind, to discover their more retired and 
 more valuable secrets. 
 
 It is not strange that methods of learning, 
 which scholars have been accustomed to in 
 their beginning and entrance upon the sci- 
 ences, should influence them all their lives, 
 and be settled in their minds by an over-ru- 
 ling reverence, especially if they be such as 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 83 
 
 universal use has established. Learners must 
 at first be believers, and their master's rules 
 having been once made axioms to them, it is 
 no wonder they should keep that dignity, and 
 by the authority they have once got, mislead 
 those who think it sufficient to excuse them, 
 if they go out of their way in a well-beaten 
 track. 
 
 §29. Words. 
 
 I have copiously enough spoken of the abuse 
 of words in another place, and therefore shall 
 upon this reflection, that the sciences are full 
 of them, warn those that would conduct their 
 understandings right not to take any term, 
 howsoever authorized by the language of the 
 schools, to stand for any thing till they have 
 an idea of it. A word may be of frequent 
 use, and great credit, with several authors, 
 and be by them made use of as if it stood 
 for some real being ; but yet, if he that reads 
 cannot frame any distinct idea uf that being, 
 it is certainly to him a mere empty sound 
 without a meaning ; and he learns no more 
 by all that is said of it, or attributed to it, 
 than if it were affirmed only of that bare 
 empty sound. They who would advance in 
 knowledge, and not deceive and swell them- 
 selves with a little articulated air, should lay 
 down this as a fundamental rule, not to take 
 
84 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 words for things, nor suppose that names in 
 books signify veal entities in nature, till they 
 can frame clear and distinct ideas of those en- 
 tities. It will not perhaps be allowed, if I 
 should set down " substantial forms" and "in- 
 tentional species," as such that may justly be 
 suspected to be of this kind of insignificant 
 terms : but this I am sure, to one that can 
 form no determined ideas of what they stand 
 for, they signify nothing at all ; and all that 
 he thinks he knows about them is to him so 
 much knowledge about nothing, and amounts 
 at most but to a learned ignorance. It is 
 not without all reason supposed that there are 
 many such empty terms to be found in some 
 learned writers, to which they had recourse 
 to etch out their systems, where their under- 
 standings could not furnish them with concep- 
 tions from things. But yet I believe the sup- 
 posing of some realities in nature, answering 
 those and the like words, have much perplex- 
 ed some, and quite misled others in the study 
 of nature. That which in any discourse sig- 
 nifies, " I know not what," should be consi- 
 dered " I know not when." Where men 
 have any conceptions, they can, if they are 
 ever so abstruse or abstracted, explain them r 
 and the terms they use for them. For our 
 conceptions being nothing but ideas, which 
 are all made up of simple ones, if they can- 
 not give us the ideas their words stand for, it 
 
OF THE UNDERSTAxNDING. 85 
 
 is plain they have none. To what purpose can 
 it be to hunt after his conceptions who has 
 none, or none distinct ? He that knew not 
 what he himself meant by a learned term 
 cannot make us know any thing by his use of 
 it, let us beat our heads about it ever so 
 long. Whether we are able to comprehend 
 all the operations of nature, and the manners 
 of them, it matters not to inquire ; but this is 
 certain, that we can comprehend no more of 
 them than we can distinctly conceive ; and 
 therefore to obtrude terms where we have 
 no distinct conceptions, as if they did con- 
 tain, or rather conceal something, is but an 
 artifice of learned vanity to cover a defect in 
 a hypothesis or our understandings. Words 
 are not made to conceal, but to declare 
 and show something ; where they are by 
 those, who pretend to instruct, otherwise used, 
 they conceal indeed something ; but that 
 which they conceal is nothing but the igno- 
 rauce, error, or sophistry of the talker ; for 
 there is, in truth, nothing else under them. 
 
 § 30. Wandering. 
 
 That there is a constant succession and flux 
 of ideas in our minds, I have observed in the 
 former part of this Essay ; and every one 
 may take notice of it in himself. This, I 
 suppose, may deserve some part of our care 
 G 
 
86 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 in the conduct of oar understandings ; and 
 I think it may be of great advantage, if we 
 can by use get that power over our minds, as 
 to be able to direct that train of ideas, that 
 so, since there will new ones perpetually come 
 into our thoughts by a constant succession, 
 we may be able by choice so to direct them, 
 that none may come in view but such as are 
 pertinent to our present inquiry, and in such 
 order as may be most useful to the discovery 
 we are upon ; or at least, if some foreign and 
 unsought ideas will offer themselves, that yet we 
 might be able to reject them, and keep them 
 from taking off our minds from its present pur- 
 suit, and hinder them from running away with 
 our thoughts quite from the subject in hand. 
 This is not, 1 suspect, so easy to be done as 
 
 ferhaps may be imagined ; and yet, for aught 
 know, this may be, if not the chief, yet one 
 of the great differences that carry some men 
 in their reasoning so far beyond others, where 
 they seem to be naturally of equal parts. A 
 proper and effectual remedy for this wander- 
 ing of thoughts I would be glad to find. He 
 that shall propose such an one, would do great 
 service to the studious and contemplative 
 part of mankind, and perhaps help unthink* 
 ing men to become thinking. I must ac- 
 knowledge that hitherto I have discovered no 
 other way to keep our thoughts close to their 
 business, but the endeavouring as much as we 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 87 
 
 can, and by frequent attention and applica- 
 tion, getting the habit of attention and appli- 
 cation. He that will observe children will find, 
 that even when they endeavour their utmost, 
 they cannot keep their minds from straggling. 
 The way to cure it, I am satisfied, is not 
 angry chiding or beating, for that presently 
 fills their heads with all the ideas that fear, 
 dread, or confusion can ofTer to them. To bring 
 back gently their wandering thoughts, by 
 leading them into the path, and going before 
 them in the train they should pursue, without 
 any rebuke, r«r so much as taking notice 
 (where it can be avoided) of their roving, I 
 suppose w r ould sooner reconcile and inure 
 them to attention than all those rougher me- 
 thods which more distract their thought, and, 
 hindering the application they would promote, 
 introduce a contrary habit. 
 
 §31. Distinction 
 
 Distinction and division are (if I mistake 
 not the import of the words) very different 
 things ; the one being the perception of a 
 difference that nature has placed in things ; 
 the other, our making a division where there 
 is yet none ; at least, if I may be permitted 
 to consider them in this sense, I think I may 
 say of them that one of them is the moist 
 necessary and conducive to true knowledge 
 
88 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 that can be ; the other, when too much made 
 use of, serves only to puzzle and confound 
 the understanding. To observe every the 
 least difference that is in things argues a quick 
 and clear sight; and this keeps the understand- 
 ing steady, and right in its way to knowledge. 
 But though it be useful to discern every 
 variety that is to be found in nature, yet it is 
 not convenient to consider every difference 
 that is in things, and divide them into dis- 
 tinct classes under every such difference. 
 This will run us, if followed, into particulars 
 (for every individual has something that 
 differences it from another,") and we shall 
 be able to establish no general truths, or 
 else at least shall be apt to perplex the mind 
 about them. The collection of several 
 things into several classes, gives the mind more 
 general and larger views ; but we must take 
 care to unite them only in that, and so far as 
 they do agree ; for so far they may be uni- 
 ted under the consideration : for entity itself, 
 that comprehends all things, as general as it 
 is, may afford us clear and rational concep- 
 tions. If we would weigh and keep in our 
 minds what it is we are considering, that would 
 best instruct us when we should, or should not 
 branch into farther distinctions, which are to 
 be taken only from a due contemplation of 
 things ; to which there is nothing more oppo- 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 89 
 
 site than the art of verbal distinctions, made 
 at pleasure in learned and arbitrarily invented 
 terms, to be applied at a venture, without 
 comprehending or conveying any distinct no- 
 tions, and so altogether fitted to artificial talk, 
 or empty noise in dispute, without any clear- 
 ing of difficulties, or advance in knowledge. 
 Whatsoever subject we examine and would 
 get knowledge in, we should, I think, make 
 as general and as large as it will bear ; nor 
 can there be any danger of this, if the idea of 
 it be settled and determined : for if that be so, 
 we shall easily distinguish it from any other 
 idea, though comprehended under the same 
 name. For it is to fence against the entan- 
 glements of equivocal words, and the great 
 art of sophistry which lies in them, that dis- 
 tinctions have been multiplied, and their use 
 thought so necessary. But had every distinct 
 abstract idea a distinct known name, there 
 would be little need of these multiplied scho- 
 lastic distinctions, though there would be nev- 
 ertheless as much need still of the mind's ob- 
 serving the differences that are in things, and 
 discriminating them thereby one from anoth- 
 er. It is not, therefore, the right way to 
 knowledge, to hunt after, and fill the head 
 with abundance of artificial and scholastic 
 distinctions, wherewith learned men's writings 
 are often filled ; we sometimes find what they 
 treat of so divided and subdivided, that the 
 i •> 
 
90 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 mind of the most attentive reader loses the 
 sight of it, as it is more than probable the 
 writer himself did ; for in things crumbled in- 
 to dust, it is in vain to affect or pretend order, 
 or expect clearness. To avoid confusion by 
 too few or too many divisions, is a great skill 
 in thinking as well as writing, which is but the 
 copying our thoughts ; but what are the boun- 
 daries of the mean between the two vicious 
 excesses on both hands, I think is hard to set 
 down in words : clear and distinct ideas is all 
 that I yet know able to regulate it. But as to 
 verbal distinctions received and applied to 
 common terms, i. e. equivocal words ; they 
 are more properly, I think, the business of 
 criticisms and dictionaries than of real know- 
 ledge and philosophy, since they, for the most 
 part, explain the meaning of words, and give 
 us their several significations. The dexterous 
 management of terms, and being able to fend 
 and prove with them, I know has, and does pass 
 in the world for a great part of learning ; but 
 it is learning distinct from knowledge ; for 
 knowledge consists only in perceiving the hab- 
 itudes and relations of ideas one to another, 
 which is done without words ; the interven- 
 tion of a sound helps nothing to it. And hence 
 we see that there is least use of distinctions 
 where there is most knowledge ; I mean in 
 mathematics, where men have determined 
 ideas without known names to them ; and so 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 91 
 
 there being no room for equivocations, there 
 is no need of distinctions. In arguing, the 
 opponent uses as comprehensive and equivocal 
 terms as he can to involve his adversary in 
 the doubtfulness of his expressions : this is ex- 
 pected, and therefore the answer on his side 
 makes it his play to distinguish as much as he 
 can, and thinks he can never do it too much ; 
 nor can he indeed in that way wherein victo- 
 ry may be had without truth and without 
 knowledge. This seems to me to be the art 
 of disputing. Use your words as captiously 
 as you can in your arguing on one side, and 
 apply distinctions as much as you can on the 
 other side to every term, to nonplus your op- 
 ponent ; so that in this sort of scholarship, 
 there being no bounds set to distinguishing, 
 some men have thought all acuteness to have 
 lain in it : and therefore in all they have read 
 or thought on, their great business has been 
 to amuse themselves with distinctions, and 
 multiply to themselves divisions, at least, more 
 than the nature of the thing required. There 
 seems to me, as I said, to be no other rule for 
 this, but a due and right consideration of things 
 as they are in themselves. He that has set- 
 tled in his mind determined ideas, with names 
 affixed to them, will be able both to discern 
 their differences one from another, which 
 is really distinguishing ; and, where the penu- 
 ry of words affords not terms answering every 
 
92 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 distinct idea, will be able, to apply proper dis- 
 tinguishing terms to the comprehensive and 
 equivocal names he is forced to make use of. 
 This is all the need I know of distinguishing 
 terms ; and in such verbal distinctions, each 
 term of the distinction, joined to that whose 
 signification it distinguishes, is but a distinct 
 name for a distinct idea. Where they are so, 
 and men have clear void distinct conceptions 
 that answer their verbal distinctions, they are 
 right, and are pertinent as far as they serve 
 to clear any thing in the subject under con- 
 sideration. And this is that which seems to 
 me the proper and only measure of distinc- 
 tions and divisions ; which he that will con- 
 duct his understanding right, must not look 
 for in the acuteness of invention, nor the au- 
 thority of writers, but will find only in the 
 consideration of things themselves, whether he 
 is led into it by his own meditations, or the 
 information of books. 
 
 An aptness to jumble things together, where- 
 in can be found any likeness, is a fault in the 
 understanding on the other side, which will 
 not fail to mislead it, and by thus lumping of 
 things, hinder the mind from distinct and ac- 
 curate conceptions of them. 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 93 
 
 § 32. Similes. 
 
 To which let me here add another near of kin 
 to this, at least in name, and that is letting the 
 mind upon the suggestion of any new notion, 
 run immediately after similes to make it the 
 clearer to itself ; which, though it may be a 
 good way, and useful in the explaining our 
 thoughts to others ; yet it is by no means a 
 right method to settle true notions of any 
 thing in ourselves, because similes always fail 
 in some part, and come short of that exact- 
 ness which our conceptions should have to 
 things, if we would think aright. This in- 
 deed makes men plausible talkers ; for those 
 are always most acceptable in discourse who 
 have the way to let their thoughts into other 
 men's minds with the greatest ease and facili- 
 ty ; whether those thoughts are well formed 
 and correspond with things, matters not ; few 
 men care to be instructed but at an easy rate. 
 They, who in their discourse strike the fancy, 
 and take the hearer's conceptions along with 
 them as fast as their words flow, are the ap- 
 plauded talkers, and go for the only men of 
 clear thoughts. Nothing contributes so much 
 to this as similes, whereby men think they 
 themselves understand better, because they 
 are the better understood. But it is one thing 
 to think right, and another thing to know the 
 
94 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 right way to lay our thoughts before others 
 with advantage and clearness, be they right 
 or wrong. Well chosen similes, metaphors, 
 and allegories, with method and order, do this 
 the best of any thing, because being taken 
 from objects already known, and familiar to 
 the understanding, they are conceived as fast 
 as spoken ; and the correspondence being 
 concluded, the thing they are brought to ex- 
 plain and elucidate is thought to be under- 
 stood too. Thus fancy passes for knowledge, 
 and what is prettily said is mistaken for sol- 
 id. I say not this to decry metaphor, or 
 with design to take away that ornament of 
 speech ; my business here is not with rheto- 
 ricians and orators, but with philosophers and 
 lovers of truth ; to whom T would beg leave 
 to give this one rule whereby to try whether, 
 in the application of their thoughts to any 
 thing for the improvement of their knowledge, 
 they do in truth comprehend the matter be- 
 fore them really such as it is in itself. The 
 way to discover this is to observe, whether in 
 the laying it before themselves or others, they 
 make use only of borrowed representations 
 and ideas foreign to the things which are ap- 
 plied to it by way of accommodation, as 
 bearing some proportion or imagined likeness 
 to the subject under consideration. Figured 
 and metaphorical expressions do well to illus- 
 trate more abstruse and unfamiliar ideas which 
 
OT THE UNDERSTANDING. 95 
 
 (lie mind is not yet thoroughly accustomed to : 
 but then they must be made use of to illus- 
 trate ideas that we already have, not to paint 
 to us those which we yet have not. Such bor- 
 rowed and allusive ideas may follow real and 
 solid truth, to set it off wi-en found, but must 
 by no means be set in its place, and taken 
 for it. If all our search has yet reached no 
 farther than simile and metaphor, we may as- 
 sure ourselves we rather fancy than know, and 
 are not yet penetrated into the inside and re- 
 ality of the thing, be it what it will, but con- 
 tent ourselves with what our imaginations, not 
 things themselves, furnish us with. 
 
 § 33. Assent 
 
 In the whole conduct of the understanding, 
 there is nothing of more moment than to know 
 when and where, and how far to give assent, 
 and possibly there is nothing harder. It is very 
 easily said and nobody questions it, that giving 
 and with-holding our assent, and the degrees 
 of it, should be regulated by the evidence 
 which things carry with them ; and yet we see 
 men are not the better for this rule ; some 
 firmly embrace doctrines upon slight grounds, 
 some upon no grounds, and some contrary to 
 appearance : some admit of certainty, and are 
 not to be moved in what they hold : others 
 waver in every thing, and there want not 
 
96 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 those that reject all as uncertain. What then 
 shall a novice, an inquirer, a stranger do in 
 the case ? I answer, use his eyes. There is 
 a correspondence in things, and agreement and 
 disagreement in ideas, discernible in very dif- 
 ferent degrees, and there are eyes in men to 
 see them if they please, only their eyes may 
 be dimmed or dazzled, and the discerning 
 sight in them impaired or lost. Interest and 
 passion dazzles ; the custom of arguing on 
 any side, even against our persuasions, dims 
 the understanding, and makes it by degrees 
 lose the faculty of discerning clearly between 
 truth and falsehood, and so of adhering to the 
 right side. — It is not safe to play with error, 
 and dress it up to ourselves or others in the 
 shape of truth. The mind by degrees loses 
 its natural relish of real solid truth, is recon- 
 ciled insensibly to any thing that can be dres- 
 sed up into any faint appearance of it ; and 
 if the fancy be allowed the place of judgment 
 at first in sport, it afterwards comes by use to 
 usurp it, and what is recommended by this flat- 
 terer (that studies but to please) is received for 
 good. There are so manyways of fallacy, such 
 arts of giving colours, appearances, and resem- 
 blances by this court-dresser, the fancy, that 
 he who is not wary to admit nothing but truth 
 itself, very careful not to make his mind sub- 
 servient to anything else, cannot but be caught. 
 He that has a mind to believe, has half assent- 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 97 
 
 ed already ; and he that, by often arguing 
 against his own sense, imposes falsehood on 
 others, is not far from believing himself. This 
 takes away the great distance there is betwixt 
 truth and falsehood ; it brings them almost to- 
 gether, and makes it no great odds, in things 
 that approach so near, which you take ; and 
 when things are brought to that pass, passion 
 or interest, Sec. easily and without being per- 
 ceived, determine which shall be the right. 
 
 § 34. Indifferency . 
 
 I have said above, that we should keep a 
 perfect inditferency for all opinions, not wish 
 any of them true, or try to make them appear 
 so ; but being indifferent, receive and em- 
 brace them according as evidence, and thai 
 alone gives the attestation of truth. They 
 that do thus, i. e. keep their minds indifferent 
 to opinions, to be determined only by evi- 
 dence, will always find the understanding has 
 perception enough to distinguish between 
 evidence and no evidence, betwixt plain 
 and doubtful ; and if they neither give nor re- 
 fuse their assent but by that measure, they 
 will be safe in the opinions they have. Which 
 being perhaps but few, this caution will have 
 also this good in it, that it will put them upon 
 considering, and teach them the necessity of 
 examining more than they do ; without which 
 
 K 
 
OS OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 the mind is but a receptacle of inconsistencies, 
 not the store-house of truths. They that do 
 not keep up this indifFerency in themselves for 
 all but truth, not supposed, but evidenced in 
 themselves, put coloured spectacles before 
 their eyes, and look on things through false 
 glasses, and then think themselves excused in 
 following the false appearances which they 
 themselves put upon them. I do not expect 
 that by this way the assent should in every one 
 be proportioned to the grounds and clearness 
 wherewith every truth is capable to be made 
 out ; or that men should be perfectly kept 
 from error : that is more than human nature 
 can by any means be advanced to ; I aim at 
 no such unattainable privilege ; I am only 
 speaking of what they should do, who would 
 deal fairly with their own minds, and make a 
 right use of their faculties in the pursuit of 
 truth ; we fail them a great deal more than 
 they fail us. It is mismanagement more than 
 want of abilities that men have reason to 
 complain of, and which they actually do com- 
 plain of in those that differ from them. He 
 that by an indifFerency for all but truth suf- 
 fers not his assent to go faster than his evi- 
 dence, nor beyond it, will learn to examine, 
 and examine fairly, instead of presuming, and 
 nobody will be at a loss, or in danger for want 
 of embracing those truths which are necessa- 
 ry in his station and circumstances. In any 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 99 
 
 other way but this, all the world are born to 
 orthodoxy ; they imbibe at first the allowed 
 opinions of their country and party, and so 
 never questioning their truth, not one of a 
 hundred ever examines. They are applauded 
 for presuming they are in the right. He that 
 considers, is a foe to orthodoxy, because possi- 
 bly he may deviate from some of the received 
 doctrines there. And thus men, without any 
 industry or acquisition of their own, inherit lo- 
 cal truths, (for it is not the same every where) 
 and are inured to assent without evidence. 
 This influences farther than is thought ; for 
 what one of a hundred of the zealous bigots 
 in all parties ever examined the tenets he is 
 so stiff in, or ever thought it his business or 
 duty so to do ? It is suspected of luke-warm- 
 ness. to suppose it necessary, and a tendency 
 to apostacy to go about it. And if a man can 
 bring his mind once to be positive and fierce 
 for positions whose evidence he has never 
 once examined, and that in matters of great- 
 est concernment to him ; what shall keep him 
 from this short and easy way of being in the 
 right in cases of le.,s moment ? Thus we are 
 taught to clothe our minds as we do our bodies, 
 after the fashion in vogue, and it is accounted 
 fantasticalness, or something worse, not to do 
 so. This custom (which who dares oppose) 
 makes the short-sighted bigots, and the warier 
 skeptics, as far as it prevails : and those that 
 
100 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 break from it are in danger of heresy : for 
 taking the whole world, how much of it doth 
 truth and orthodoxy possess together ? 
 Though it is by the last alone (which has the 
 good luck to be every where) that error and 
 heresy are judged of : for argument and evi- 
 dence signify nothing in the case, and excuse 
 nowhere, but are sure to be borne dow r n in all 
 societies by the infallible orthodoxy of the 
 place. Whether this be the way to truth and 
 right assent, let the opinions, that take place 
 and prescribe in the several habitable parts of 
 the earth, declare. I never saw any reason 
 yet why truth might not be trusted on its own 
 evidence : I am sure if that be not able to 
 support it, there is no fence against error ; and 
 then truth and falsehood are but names that 
 stand for the same things. Evidence there- 
 fore is that by which alone every man is (and 
 should be) taught to regulate his assent, who 
 is then, and then only, in the right way, when 
 he follows it. 
 
 Men deficient in knowledge are usually in 
 one of these three states ; either wholly igno- 
 rant, or as doubting of some proposition they 
 have either embraced formerly or at present 
 are inclined to ; or lastly, they do with assu- 
 rance hold and profess without ever having ex- 
 amined, and being convinced by well-grounded 
 arguments. 
 
 The first of these are in the best state of 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 101 
 
 the three, by having their minds yet in their 
 perfect freedom and indifferency ; the likelier 
 to pursue truth the better, having no bias yet 
 clapped on to mislead them 
 
 §35. 
 
 For ignorance, with an indifferency for truth, 
 isnearertoitthan opinion with ungrounded in- 
 clination, which is the great source of error ; 
 and they are more in danger to go out of the 
 way who are marching under the conduct of a 
 guide, that it is a hundred to one will mislead 
 them, than he that has not yet taken a step, 
 and is likelier to be prevailed on to inquire af- 
 ter the right way. The last of the three sorts 
 are in the worst condition of all ; for if a man 
 can be persuaded and fully assured of any- 
 thing for a truth, without having examined, 
 what is there that he may not embrace for 
 truth ? and if he has given himself up to be- 
 lieve a lie, what means is there left to recover 
 one who can be assured without examining ? 
 To the other two this I crave leave to say, 
 that as he that is ignorant is in the best state of 
 the two, so he should pursue truth in a method 
 suitable to that state ; i. e. by inquiring di- 
 rectly into the nature of the thing itself, with- 
 out minding the opinions of others, or troub- 
 ling himself with their questions or disputes 
 about it ; but to see what he himself can, sin- 
 H 
 
i02 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 cerely searching for truth, find out. He that 
 proceeds on other principles in his inquiry in- 
 to any sciences, though he he resolved to ex- 
 amine them and judge of them freely, does yet 
 at least put himself on that side, and post him- 
 self in a party which he will not quit till he 
 be beaten out ; by which the mind is insensibly 
 engaged to make what defence it can, and so 
 is unawares biassed. I do not say but a man 
 should embrace some opinion when he has ex- 
 amined, else he examines to no purpose ; but 
 the surest and safest way is to have no opin- 
 ion at all till he has examined, and that with- 
 out any the least regard to the opinions or sys- 
 tems of other men about it. For example, 
 were it my business to understand physic, 
 would not the safe and readier way be to con- 
 sult nature herself, and inform myself in the 
 history of diseases and their cures, than es- 
 pousing the principles of the dogmatists, meth- 
 odists, or chymists, to engage in all the dis- 
 putes concerning either of those systems, and 
 suppose it to be true, till I have tried what 
 they can say to beat me out of it ? Or sup- 
 posing that Hippocrates, or any other book, 
 infallibly contains the whole art of physic, 
 would not the direct way be to study, read, 
 and consider that book, weigh and compare 
 the parts of it to find the truth, rather than 
 espouse the doctrines of any party ? who, 
 though they acknowledge his authority, have 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 103 
 
 already interpreted and wiredrawn all his text 
 to their own sense ; the tincture whereof, 
 when I have imbibed, I am more in danger to 
 misunderstand his true meaning, than if I had 
 come to him with a mind unprepossessed by 
 doctors and commentators of my sect ; whose 
 reasonings, interpretation, and language, which 
 I have been used to, will of course make alj 
 chime that way, and make another, and per- 
 haps the genuine meaning of the author seem 
 harsh, strained, and uncouth to me. For 
 words having naturally none of their own, car- 
 ry that signification to the hearer that he is 
 used to put upon them, whatever be the sense 
 of h':n that uses them. This, I think, is visi- 
 bly so ; and if it be, he that begins to have any 
 doubt of any of his tenets, which he received 
 without examination, ought, as much as he 
 can, to put himself wholly into this state of ig- 
 norance in reference to that question ; and 
 thro wii lg wholly by all his former notions, and 
 the opinions of others, examine, with a per- 
 fect indiflerency, the question in its source ; 
 without any inclination to either side, or any 
 regard to his or others' unexamined opinion*. 
 This I own is no easy thing to do ; but I am 
 not enquiring the easy way to opinion, but the 
 right way to truth ; which they must follow 
 who will deal fairly with their own understand- 
 ings and their own souls. 
 
104 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 § 36. Question. 
 
 The indifferency that I here propose will 
 also enable them to state the question right, 
 which they are in doubt about, without which 
 they can never come to a fair and clear de- 
 cision of it. 
 
 m 
 
 § 37. Perseverance. 
 
 Another fruit from this indifferency, and 
 the considering things in themselves abstract 
 from our own opinions and other men's no- 
 tions and discourses on them, will be, that 
 each man will pursue his thoughts in that 
 method which will be most agreeable to the 
 nature of the thing, and to his apprehension 
 of what it suggests to him ; in which he ought 
 to proceed with regularity and constancy, un- 
 til he come to a well-grounded resolution 
 wherein he may acquiesce. If it be objected 
 that this will require every man to be a schol- 
 ar, and quit all his other business, and betake 
 himself wholly to study ; I answer, I propose 
 no more to any one than he has time for. 
 Some men's state and condition requires no 
 great extent of knowledge ; the necessary 
 provision for life swallow r s the greatest part of 
 their time. But one man's want of leisure is 
 no excuse for the ositancy and ignorance of 
 those who have time to spare ; and every one 
 
OF THE UNDERSTAND TNG, 105 
 
 has enough to get as much knowledge as is 
 required and expected of him, and he that 
 does not that-, is in love with ignorance, and is 
 accountable for it. 
 
 § 38. Presumption. 
 
 The variety of distempers in men's minds is 
 as great as of those in their bodies ; some are 
 epidemic, few escape them ; and every one 
 too, if he would look into himself, would find 
 tome defect of his particular genius. There is 
 scarce any one without some idiosyncrasy that 
 he suffers by. This man presumes upon his 
 parts, that they will not fail him at time of 
 need ; and so thinks it superfluous labour to 
 make any provision beforehand. His under- 
 standing is to him like Fortunatus's purse, 
 which is always to furnish him, without ever 
 putting any thing into it before-hand ; and so 
 he sits still satisfied, without endeavouring to 
 store his understanding with knowledge. It is 
 the spontaneous product of the country, and 
 what need of labour in tillage ? Such men 
 may spread their native riches before the ig- 
 norant ; but they were best not come to stress 
 and trial with the skilful. We are born ig- 
 norant of every thing. The superficies of 
 things that surround them make impressions 
 on the negligent, but nobody penetrates into 
 the inside without labour, attention, and mdus- 
 
106 OP THE CONDUCT 
 
 try. Stones and timber grow of themselves, 
 but yet there is no uniform pile with symme- 
 try and convenience to lodge in without toil 
 and pains. God has made the intellectual 
 world harmonious and beautiful without us ; 
 but it wiil never come into our heads all at 
 once ; we must bring it home peice-meal, and 
 there set it up by our own industry, or else 
 we shall have nothing but darkness and a 
 chaos within, whatever order and light there 
 be in things without us. 
 
 § 39. Despondency. 
 
 On the other side, there are others that de- 
 press their own minds, despond at the first 
 difficulty, and conclude that the getting an in- 
 sight in any of the sciences, or making any 
 progress in knowledge farther than serves 
 their ordinary buisiness, is above their capa- 
 cities. These sit still, because they think 
 they have not legs to go as the others I last 
 mentioned do, because they think they have 
 wings to fly, and can soar on high when they 
 please. To these latter one may for answer 
 apply the proverb, " Use legs and have legs." 
 Nobody knows what strength of parts he has 
 till he has tried them. And of the under- 
 standing one may most truly say, that its 
 force is greater generally than it thinks, till 
 it is put to it. Viresqite aeqmrit eundo. 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 107 
 
 And therefore the proper remedy here is 
 but to set the mind to work, and apply the 
 thoughts vigorously to the business ; for it 
 holds in the struggles of the mind as in those 
 of war, " Dum putant se vincere vicere ;" v a 
 persuasion that we shall overcome any diffi- 
 culties that we meet with in the sciences, sel- 
 dom fails to carry us through them. Nobody 
 knows the strength of his mind, and the force 
 of steady and regular application, till he has 
 tried. This is certain, he that sets out upon 
 weak legs will not only go farther, but grow 
 stronger too, than one who, with a vigorous 
 constitution and firm limbs, only sitsstill. 
 
 Something of kin to this men may observe 
 in themselves, when the mind frights itself (as 
 it often does) with any thing reflected on in 
 gross, and transiently viewed confusedly, and 
 at a distance. Things thus offered to the 
 mind carry the show of nothing but difficulty 
 in them, and are thought to be wrapt up in 
 impenetrable obscurity. But the truth is, 
 these are nothing but spectres that the under- 
 standing raises to itself to flatter its own lazi- 
 ness. It sees nothing distinctly in things re- 
 mote, and in a huddle ; and therefore con- 
 cludes too faintly, that there is nothing more 
 clear to be discovered in them. It is but to ap- 
 proach nearer, and that mist of our own rais- 
 ing that enveloped them will remove ; and 
 those that in that mist appeared hideous giants 
 
108 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 not to be grappled with, will be found to be 
 of the ordinary and natural size and shape. 
 Things, that in a remote and confused view 
 seem very obscure, must be approached by 
 gentle aKid regular steps ; and what is most 
 visible, easy, and obvious in them first con- 
 sidered. Reduce them into their distinct 
 parts ; and then in their due order bring all 
 that should be known concerning every one 
 of those parts into plain and simple questions ; 
 and then what was thought obscure, perplex- 
 ed, and too hard for our weak parts, will lay 
 itself open to the understanding in a fair view, 
 and let the mind into that which before it was 
 awed with, and kept at a distance from, as 
 wholly mysterious. I appeal to my reader's 
 experience, whether this has never happened 
 to him, especially when, busy on one thing, he 
 has occasionally reflected on another. I ask 
 him whether he has never thus been scared 
 with a sudden opinion of mighty difficulties, 
 which yet have vanished, when he has serious- 
 ly and methodically applied himself to the 
 consideration of this seeming terrible subject, 
 and there has been no other matter of aston- 
 ishment left, but that he amused himself with 
 so discouraging a prospect, of his own raising, 
 about a matter which in the handling was 
 found to have nothing in it more strange nov 
 intricate than several other things which he 
 had long since and with ease mastered ? This 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 109 
 
 experience would teach us how to deal with such 
 bugbears another time, which shouid rather 
 serve to excite our vigour than enervate our 
 industry. The surest way for a learner in this, 
 as in all other cases, is not to advance by jumps 
 and large strides ; let that which he sets him- 
 self to learn next be indeed the next ; i. e. as 
 nearly conjoined with what he knows already 
 as is possible ; let it be distinct but not remote 
 from it : let it be new, and what he did not 
 know before, that the understanding may ad- 
 vance ; but let it be as little at once as may 
 be, that its advances may be clear and sure. 
 All the ground that it gets this way it will 
 hold. This distinct gradual growth in knowl- 
 edge is firm and sure ; it carries its own light 
 with it in every step of its progression, in 
 an easy and orderly train ; than which there 
 is nothing of more use to the understanding. 
 And though this perhaps may seem a very 
 slow and lingering way to knowledge, yet I 
 dare confidently affirm, that whoever will try 
 it in himself, or any one he will teach, shall find 
 the advances greater in this method than 
 they would in the same space of time have 
 been in any other he could have taken. The 
 greatest part of true knowledge lies in a dis- 
 tinct perception of things in themselves dis- 
 tinct. And some men give more clear light 
 and knowledge by the bare distinct stating of a 
 
 L 
 
110 OP THE CONDUCT 
 
 question, than others by talking of it in gross 
 whole hours together. In this, they who so 
 state a question do no more but separate and 
 disentangle the parts of it one from another, 
 and lay them, when so disentangled, in their 
 due order. This often, without any more ado, 
 resolves the doubt, and shews the mind where 
 the truth lies. The agreement or disagree- 
 ment of the ideas in question, when they are 
 once separated and distinctly considered, is, in 
 many cases, presently perceived, and thereby 
 clear and lasting knowledge gained ; whereas 
 things in gross taken up together, and so lying 
 together in confusion, can produce in the mind 
 but a confused, which in effect is no knowl- 
 edge ; or at least, when it comes to be exam- 
 ined and made use of, will prove little better 
 than none. I therefore take the liberty to 
 repeat here again w r hat I have said elsewhere, 
 that in learning any thing as little should be 
 proposed to the mind at once as is possible ; 
 and, that being understood and fully mastered, 
 to proceed to the next adjoining part yet un- 
 known, simple, unperplexed proposition be- 
 longing to the matter in hand, and tending to 
 the clearing what is principally designed. 
 
 § 40. Analogy. 
 
 Analogy is of great use to the mind in many 
 cases, especially in natural philosophy ; and 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 1 1 1 
 
 thai part of it chiefly which consists in happy 
 and successful experiments. But here we 
 must take care that we keep ourselves within 
 that wherein the analogy consists. For ex- 
 ample, the acid oil of vitriol is found to be 
 good in such a case, therefore the spirit of ni- 
 tre or vinegar may be used in the like case. 
 If the good effect of it be owing wholly to the 
 acidity of it, the trial may be justified ; but if 
 there be something else besides the acidity in 
 the oil of vitriol which produces the good we 
 desire in the case, we mistake that for analo- 
 gy, which is not, and suffer our understand- 
 ing to be misguided by a wrong supposition of 
 analogy where there is none 
 
 § 41. Association. 
 
 Though I have, in the second book of my Es- 
 say concerning Human Understanding, treated 
 of the association of ideas ; yet having done 
 it there historically, as giving a view of the 
 understanding in this as well as its several 
 other ways of operating, rather than designing 
 there to inquire into the remedies that ought 
 to be applied to it ; it will under this latter 
 consideration, afford other matter of thought 
 to those who have a mind to instruct them- 
 selves thoroughly in the right way of con- 
 ducting their understandings ; and that the 
 rather, because this, if I mistake not, is as 
 
112 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 frequent a cause of mistake and error in us as 
 perhaps any thing else that can be named, and 
 is a disease of the mind as hard to be cured as 
 any ; it being a very hard thing to convince 
 any one that things are not so, and naturally 
 so, as they constantly appear to him. 
 
 By this one easy and unheeded miscarriage 
 of the understanding, sandy and loose founda- 
 tions become infallible principles, and will not 
 suffer themselves to be touched or questioned: 
 such unnatural connexions become by custom 
 as natural to the mind as sun and light, fire 
 and warmth go together, and so seem to carry 
 with them as natural an evidence as self-evi- 
 dent truths themselves. And where then shall 
 one with hopes of success begin the cure ? 
 Many men firmly embrace falsehood for truth, 
 not only because they never thought otherwise, 
 but also because, thus blinded as they have 
 been from the beginning, they never could 
 think otherwise, at least without a vigour of 
 mind able to contest the empire of habit, and 
 look into its own principles ; a freedom which 
 few men have the notion of in themselves, and 
 fewer are allowed the practice of by others ; 
 it being the great art andbusiness of the teach- 
 ers and guides in most sects to suppress, as much 
 as they can, this fundamental duty which every 
 man owes himself, and is the first steady step 
 towards right and truth in the whole train of 
 bis actions and opinions. This would give one 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 1 i 3 
 
 reason to suspect that such teachers are con- 
 scious to themselves of the falsehood or weak- 
 ness of the tenets they profess, since they will 
 not suffer the grounds whereon they are built 
 to be examined : whereas those who seek 
 truth only, and desire to own and propagate 
 nothing else, freely expose their principles to 
 the test, are pleased to have them examined, 
 give men leave to reject them if they can ; 
 and if there be any thing weak and unsound 
 in them, are willing to have it detected, that 
 they themselves as well as others, may not lay 
 any stress upon any received proposition be- 
 yond what the evidence of its truths will war- 
 rant and allow. 
 
 There is, I know, a great fault among all 
 sorts of people of principling their children 
 and scholars, which at last, when looked into, 
 amounts to no more but making them imbibe 
 their teacher's notions and tenets by an im 
 plicit faith, axd firmly to adhere to them 
 whether true or false. What colours may be 
 given to this, op of what use it may be when 
 practised upon the vulgar, destined to labour, 
 and given up to the service of their bellies, I 
 will not here inquire. But as to the ingenu- 
 ous part of mankind, whose condition allows 
 them leisure, and letters, and inqury after 
 truth, I can see no other right way of penci- 
 ling them but to take heed, as much as may 
 be, that in their tender years ideas that have 
 
114 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 no natural cohesion come not to be united in 
 their heads ; and that this rule be often incul- 
 cated to them to be their guide in the whole 
 course of their lives and studies, viz. that they 
 never suffer any ideas to be joined in their un- 
 derstandings in any other or stronger combina- 
 tion than what their own nature and corres- 
 pondence give them, and that they often ex- 
 amine those that they find linked together in 
 their minds, whether this association of ideas 
 be from the visible agreement that is in the 
 ideas themselves, or from the habitual and 
 prevailing custom of the mind joining them 
 thus together in thinking. 
 
 This is for caution against this evil, before it 
 be thoroughly rivetted by custom in the under- 
 standing ; but he that would cure it when 
 habit has established it, must nicely observe 
 the very quick and almost imperceptible mo- 
 tions cf the mind in its habitual actions. 
 What I have said in another place about the 
 change of the ideas of sense into those of 
 judgment, may be proof of this. Let any one 
 not skilled in painting be told, when he sees 
 bottles, and tobacco-pipes, and other things so 
 painted as they are in some places shown, 
 that he does not see protuberances, and you 
 will not convince him but by the touch: he will 
 not believe that by an instantaneous legerde- 
 main of his own thoughts, one idea is substi- 
 tuted for another. How frequent instances 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 115 
 
 may one meet with of this in the arguings of 
 the learned, who not seldom, in two ideas 
 that they have been accustomed to join in 
 their minds, substitute one for the other ; and, 
 I am apt to think, often without perceiving it 
 ihemselves ? This, whilst they are under the 
 deceit of it, makes them incapable of convic- 
 tion, and they applaud themselves as zealous 
 champions for truth, when indeed, they are 
 contending for error. And the confusion of 
 two different ideas, which a customary con- 
 nexion of them in their minds hath made to 
 them almost one, fills their head with false 
 views, and their reasonings with false con- 
 sequences. 
 
 § 42. Fallacies. 
 
 Right understanding consists in the discovery 
 and adherence to truth, and that in the per- 
 ception of the visible or probable agreement 
 or disagreement of ideas, as they are affirmed 
 and denied one of another. From whence it 
 is evident, that the right use and conduct of 
 the understanding, whose business is purely 
 truth and nothing else, is, that the mind should 
 be kept in a perfect indifferency, not incli- 
 ning to either side, any farther than evidence 
 settles it by knowledge, or the over-balance of 
 probability gives it the turn of assent, and be- 
 lief ; but yet it is very hard to meet with any 
 
116 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 discourse wherein one may not perceive 
 the author not only maintain (for that is 
 reasonable and fit) but inclined and biassed 
 to one side of the question, with marks of 
 a desire that that should be true. If it be 
 asked me, how authors who have such a bias 
 and lean to it may be discovered? I answer, by 
 observing how in their writings or arguings they 
 are often led by their inclinations to change 
 the ideas of the question, either by changing the 
 terms, or by adding and joining others to them, 
 whereby the ideas under consideration are so 
 varied as to be more serviceable to their pur- 
 pose, and to be thereby brought to an easier 
 and nearer agreement, or more visible or re- 
 moter disagreement one with another. This 
 is plain and direct sophistry ; but I am far 
 from thinking that wherever it is found it is 
 made use of with design to deceive and mis- 
 lead the readers. It is visible that men's pre- 
 judices and inclinations by this way impose of- 
 ten upon themselves ; and their affection for 
 truth, under their prepossession in favour of 
 one side, is the very thing that leads them 
 from it. Inclination suggests and slides into 
 their discourse favourable terms, which intro- 
 duce favourable ideas ; till at last, by this 
 means, that is concluded clear and evident, 
 thus dressed up, which taken in its native 
 state, by making use of none but the precise 
 determined ideas, would find no admittance at 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 117 
 
 all. The putting these glosses on what they 
 affirm ; these as they are thought, handsome, 
 easy, and graceful explications of what they 
 are discoursing on, is so much the character of 
 what is called and esteemed writing well, that 
 it is very hard to think that authors will ever 
 be persuaded to leave what serve so well to 
 propagate their opinions, and procure them- 
 selves credit in the world, for 'a more jejune 
 and dry way of writing, by keeping to the 
 same terms precisely annexed to the same 
 ideas ; a sour and blunt stiffness, tolerable in 
 mathematicians only, who force their way, and 
 make truth prevail by irresistible demonstra- 
 tion. 
 
 But yet if authors cannot be prevailed with 
 to quit the looser, though more insinuating 
 w r ays of writing : if they will not think fit to 
 keep close to truth and instruction by unva- 
 ried terms, and plain unsophisticated argu- 
 ments ; yet it concerns readers not to be im- 
 posed on by fallacies, and the prevailing ways 
 of insinuation. To do this, the surest and most 
 effectual remedy is to fix in the mind the clear 
 and distinct ideas of the question stripped of 
 words ; and so likewise in the train of argu- 
 mentation, to take up the author's ideas, neg- 
 lecting his words, observing how they connect 
 or separate those in the question. He that 
 does this will be able to cast off all that is su- 
 perfluous ; he will see what is pertinent, what 
 
118 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 coherent, what is direct to, what slides by ths 
 question. This will readily show him all the 
 foreign ideas in the discourse, and where they 
 were brought in ; and though they perhaps 
 dazzled the writer, yet he will perceive that 
 they give no light nor strength to his reasonings. 
 This though it be the shortest and easiest 
 way of reading books with profit, and keep- 
 ing one's self from being misled by great 
 names or plausible discourses ; yet it being 
 hard and tedious to those who have not accus- 
 tomed themselves to it, it is not to be expected 
 that every one (among those few who really 
 pursue truth") should this way guard his under- 
 standing from being imposed on by the wilful, 
 or at least undesigned sophistry, which creeps 
 into most of the books of argument. They, 
 that write against their conviction, or that, 
 next to them, are resolved to maintain the te- 
 nets of a party they are engaged in, cannot 
 be supposed to reject any arms that may help 
 to defend their cause, and therefore such 
 should be read with the greatest caution. 
 And they who write for opinions they are sin- 
 cerely persuaded of, and believe to be true, 
 think they may so far allow themselves to 
 indulge their laudable affection to truth, as to 
 permit their esteem of it to give it the best col- 
 ours, and set it off with the best expressions and 
 dress they can, thereby to gain it the easi- 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. \\9 
 
 est entrance into the minds of their readers, 
 and fix it deepest there. 
 
 One of those being the state of mind we 
 may justly suppose most writers to be in, it w 
 fit their readers, who apply to them for in- 
 struction, should not lay by that caution which 
 becomes a sincere pursuit of truth, and should 
 make them always watchful against whatever 
 might conceal or misrepresent it. If they have 
 not the skill of representing to themselves the 
 author's sense by pure ideas separated from 
 sounds, and thereby divested of the false lights 
 and deceitful ornaments of speech, this yet they 
 should do, they should keep the precise ques- 
 tion steadily in their minds, carry it along with 
 them through the whole discourse, and suffer 
 not the least alteration in the terms, either by 
 addition, subtraction, or substituting any other. 
 This every one can do who has a mind to it; and 
 he that has not a mind to it, it is plain, makes 
 his understanding only the warehouse of other 
 men's lumber ; I mean false and unconcluding 
 reasonings, rather than a repository of truth 
 for his own use ; which will prove substantial, 
 and stand him instead, when he has occassion 
 for it. And whether such an one deals fairly 
 by his own mind, and conducts his own under- 
 standing right, I leave to his own understand- 
 ing to judge 
 
V20 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 § 43. Fundamental Verities. 
 
 The mind of man being very narrow, and so 
 slow in making acquaintance with things, and 
 taking in new truths, that no one man is ca- 
 pable, in a much longer life than ours, to know 
 all truths ; it becomes our prudence, in our 
 search after knowledge, to employ our thoughts 
 about fundamental and material questions, 
 carefully avoiding those that are trifling, and 
 not suffering ourselves to be diverted from our 
 main even purpose, by those that are merely 
 incidental. How much of many young men's 
 time is thrown away in purely logical inqui- 
 ries, I need not mention. This is no better 
 than if a man, who was to be a painter, should 
 spend all his time in examining the threads of 
 the several cloths he is to paint upon, and 
 counting the hairs of each pencil and brush he 
 intends to use in the laying on of his colours. 
 Nay, it is much worse than for a young painter 
 to spend his apprenticeship in such useless ni- 
 ceties ; for he, at the end of all his pains to no 
 purpose, finds that it is not painting, nor any 
 help to it, and so is really to no purpose: 
 whereas men designed for scholars have often 
 their heads so filled and warmed with disputes 
 on logical questions, that they take those airy 
 useless notions for real and substantial knowl- 
 edge, and think their understandings so well 
 furnished with science, that they need not look 
 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 121 
 
 any farther into the nature of things, or des- 
 cend to the mechanical drudgery of experi- 
 ment and inquiry. This is so obvious a mis- 
 management of the understanding, and that in 
 the professed way to knowledge, that it could 
 not be passed by ; to which might be joined 
 abundance of questions, and the way of hand- 
 ling of them in the schools. What faults in par- 
 ticular of this kind every man is, or may be 
 guilty of, would be infinite to enumerate ; it 
 suffices to have shown that superficial and 
 slight discoveries and observations that contain 
 nothing of moment in themselves, nor serve as 
 clues to lead us into farther knowledge, should 
 not be thought worth our searching after. 
 
 There are fundamental truths that lie at the 
 bottom, the basis upon which a great many 
 others rest, and in which they have their con- 
 sistency. These are teeming truths, rich in 
 store, with which they furnish the mind, and, 
 like the lights of heaven, are not only beauti- 
 ful and entertaining in themselves, but give 
 light and evidence to other things, that without 
 them could not be seen or known. Such is 
 that admirable discovery of Mr. Newton, that 
 all bodies gravitate to one another, which may 
 be counted as the basis of natural philoso- 
 phy ; which of what use it is to the under- 
 standing of the great frame of our solar sys- 
 tem, he has to the astonishment of the learn- 
 ed world shown ; and how much farther it would 
 
 M 
 
122 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 guide us in other things if rightly pursued, 
 is not yet kiown. Our Saviour's great rule, 
 that " we should love oar neighbour as our- 
 selves," is such a fundamental truth for the 
 regulating human society, that, I think, by 
 that alone, one might without difficulty deter- 
 mine all the cases and doubts in social morality. 
 These and such as these are the truths we 
 should endeavour to find out, and store our 
 minds with. Which leads me to another thing in 
 the conduct of the understanding that is no less 
 necessary, viz. 
 
 § 44. Bottoming. 
 
 To accustom ourselves, in any question propo- 
 sed, to examine and find out upon what it bot- 
 toms. Most of the difficulties that come in 
 our way, when well considered and traced, 
 lead us to some proposition, which, known to 
 be true, clears the doubt, and gives an easy 
 solution of the question ; whilst topical and 
 superficial arguments, of which there is store 
 to be found on both sides, filling the head with 
 variety of thoughts, and the mouth with co- 
 pious discourse, serve only to amuse the un- 
 derstanding, and entertain company, without 
 coming to the bottom of the question, the 
 only place of rest and stability for an inquisi- 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 123 
 
 tive mind, whose tendency is only to truth and 
 knowledge. 
 
 For example, if it be demanded, whether 
 the Grand Seignor can lawfully take what he 
 will from any of his people ? This question 
 cannot be resolved without comiri£ to a cer- 
 tainty, whether all men are naturally equal ; 
 for upon that it turns ; and that truth well 
 settled in the understanding, and carried in 
 the mind through the various debates concer- 
 ning the various rights of men in society, will go 
 a great way in putting an end to them, and 
 showing on which side the truth is. 
 
 § 45. Transfenng of thoughts. 
 
 There is scarce any thing more for the im- 
 provement of knowledge, for the ease of life, 
 and for the dispatch of business, than for a 
 man to be able to dispose of his own thoughts ; 
 and there is scarce any thing harder in the 
 whole conduct of the understanding than to 
 ^et a full mastery over it. The mind, in a 
 waking man, has always some object that it 
 applies itself to ; which, when we are lazy or 
 unconcerned, we can easily change, and at 
 pleasure transfer our thoughts to another, and 
 from thence to a third, which has no relation 
 to either of the former. Hence men forward- 
 ly conclude, and frequently say, nothing is so 
 free as thought, and it were well it were so ; but 
 
124 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 the contrary will be found true in several in- 
 stances ; and there are many cases wherein 
 there is nothing more resty and ungovernable 
 than our thoughts : they will not be directed 
 what objects to pursue, nor be taken off from 
 those they have once fixed on ; but run away 
 with a man in pursuit of those ideas they have 
 in view, let him do what he can. 
 
 I will not here mention again what I have 
 above taken notice of, how hard it is to get the 
 mind, narrowed by a custom of thirty or forty 
 years* standing to a scanty collection of ob- 
 vious and common ideas, to enlarge itself to a 
 more copious stock, and grow into an acquain- 
 tance with those that would afford more abun- 
 dant matter of useful contemplation; it is not of 
 this I am here speaking. The inconveniency 
 I would here represent, and find a remedy for, 
 is the difficulty there is sometimes to transfer 
 our minds from one subject to another in ca- 
 ses where the ideas are equally familiar to us. 
 
 Matters, that are recommended to our 
 thoughts by any of our passions, take pos- 
 session of our minds with a kind of authority, 
 and will not be kept out or dislodged ; but, as 
 if the passion that rules were, for the time, the 
 sheriff of the place, and came with all the posse, 
 the understanding is seized and taken with the 
 object it introduces, as if it had a legal right to 
 be alone considered there. There is scarce 
 any body, I think, of so calm a temper who 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 12-5 
 
 hath not some time found this tyranny on his 
 understanding, and suffered under the inconve- 
 nience of it. Who is there almost, whose 
 mind, some time or other, love or anger, fear 
 or grief, has not so fastened to some clog, that 
 it could not turn itself to any other object ? 
 I call it a clog, for it hangs upon the mind so 
 as to hinder its vigour and activity in the pursuit 
 of other contemplations ; and advances itseli 
 little or not at all in the knowledge of the thing 
 which it so closely hugs and constantly pores 
 on. Men thus possessed are sometimes as if 
 they were so in the worst sense, and lay under 
 the power of an enchantment. They see not 
 what passes before their eyes ; hear not the 
 audible discourse of the company ; and when 
 by any strong application to them they are 
 roused a little, they are like men brought to 
 themselves from some remote region ; where- 
 as in truth they come no farther than their 
 secret cabinet within, where they have been 
 wholly taken up with the puppet, which is for 
 that time appointed for their entertainment. 
 The shame that such dumps cause to well-bred 
 people, ^'hen it carries them away from the 
 company, where they should bear a part in the 
 conversation, is a sufficient argument that it is 
 a fault in the conduct of our understanding, 
 not to have that power over it as to make 
 use of it to those purposes, and on those occa- 
 sions, wherein we have need of its assi>tance 
 m 2 
 
126 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 The mind should be always free and ready to 
 turn itself to the variety of objects that occur, 
 and allow them as much consideration as shall 
 for that time be thought fit. To be engrossed 
 so by one object, as not to be prevailed on to 
 leave it for another that we judge fitter for 
 our contemplation, is to make it of no use to us. 
 Did this state of mind remain always so, every 
 one w r ould, without scruple, give it the name of 
 perfect madness ; and whilst it does last, at 
 whatever intervals it returns, such a rotation 
 of thoughts about the same object no more car- 
 ries us forward towards the attainment of 
 knowledge, than getting upon a mill horse 
 whilst he jogs on in his circular track would 
 carry a man a journey. 
 
 I grant something must be allowed to legiti- 
 mate passions, and to natural inclinations. 
 Every man, besides occasional affections, has 
 beloved studies, and those the mind will more 
 closely stick to ; but yet it is best that it should 
 be always at liberty, and under the free disposal 
 of the man, and to act how and upon what he 
 directs. This we should endeavour to obtain, 
 unless we would be content with such a flaw in 
 our understanding, that sometimes we should 
 be as it were without it ; for it is very little 
 better than so in cases where we cannot make 
 use of it to those purposes we would, and 
 which stand in present need of it. 
 
 But before fit remedies can be thought no 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING 127 
 
 for this disease, we must know the several 
 causes of it, and thereby regulate the cure, if 
 we will hope to labour with success. 
 
 One we have already instanced in, whereof 
 all men that reflect have so general a knowl- 
 edge, and so often an experience in themselves, 
 that nobody doubts of it. A prevailing pas- 
 sion so pins down our thoughts to the object 
 and concern of it, that a man passionately in 
 love cannot bring himself to think of his ordi- 
 nary affairs, or a kind mother drooping under 
 the loss of a child, is not able to bear a part as 
 she was wont in the discourse of the company, 
 or conversation of her friends. 
 
 But though passion be the most obvious and 
 general, yet it is not the only cause that binds 
 up the understanding, and confines it for the 
 time to one object, from which it will not be 
 taken off. 
 
 Besides this, we may often find that the un- 
 derstanding, when it has awhile employed it- 
 self upon a subject which either chance, or 
 some slight accident, offered to it, without the 
 interest or recommendation of any passion, 
 works itself into a warmth, and by degrees gets 
 into a career, wherein, like a bowl down a 
 bill, it increases its motion by going, and will 
 not be stopped or diverted ; though, when the 
 heat is over, it sees all this earnest application 
 was about a trifle not worth a thought, and all 
 the pains employed about it lost labour 
 
a 28 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 There is a third sort, if I mistake not, yet 
 lower than this ; it is a sort of childishness, if 
 I may so say, of the understanding, wherein, 
 during the fit, it plays with and dandles some 
 insignificant puppet to no end, nor with any de- 
 sign at all, and yet cannot easily be got off 
 from it. Thus some trivial sentence, or a 
 scrap of poetry, will sometimes get into men's 
 heads, and make such a chiming there, that 
 there is no stilling of it ; no peace to he ob- 
 tained, nor attention to any thing else, but this 
 impertinent guest will take up the mind and 
 possess the thoughts in spite of all endeavours 
 to get rid of it. Whether every one hath ex- 
 perimented in themselves this troublesome in- 
 trusion of some frisking ideas which thus im- 
 portune the understanding, and hinder it from 
 being better employed, I know not. But per- 
 sons of very good parts, and those more than 
 one, I have heard speak and complain of it 
 themselves. The reason I have to make this 
 doubt, is from what I have known in a case 
 something of kin to this, though much odder, 
 and that is of a sort of visions that some people 
 have lying quiet, but perfectly awake, in the 
 dark, or with their eyes shut. It is a great va- 
 riety of faces, most commonly very odd ones, 
 that appear to them in a train one ofter ano- 
 ther ; so that having had just the sight of the 
 one, it immediately passes away to give place 
 io another, that the same instant succeeds, and 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 129 
 
 has as quick an exit as its leader ; and so they 
 march on in a constant succession ; nor can 
 any one of them by any endeavour be stepped 
 or retained beyond the instant of its appear- 
 ance, but is thrust out by its follower, which 
 will have its turn. Concerning this fantastical 
 phenomenon I have talked with several people, 
 whereof some have been perfectly acquainted 
 with it, and others have been so wholly stran- 
 gers to it, that they could hardly be brought to 
 conceive or believe it. I knew a lady of ex- 
 cellent parts, who had got past thirty without 
 having ever had the least notice of any such 
 thing ; she was so great a stranger to it, that 
 when she heard me and another talking of it, 
 could scarce forbear thinking we bantered her; 
 but some time after drinking a large dose of 
 dilute tea, (as she was ordered by a physician) 
 going to bed, she told us at next meeting, that 
 she had now experimented what our discourse 
 had much ado to persuade her of. She had 
 seen a great variety of faces in a long train, 
 succeeding one another, as we had described ; 
 they were all strangers and intruders, such as 
 she had no acquaintance with before, nor 
 sought after then ; and as they came of them- 
 selves they went too ; none of fchem stayed a 
 moment, nor could be detained by all the en 
 deavours she could use, but went on in their 
 solemn procession, just appeared and then van- 
 ished This odd phenomenon seems to have 
 
130 OF THE CONDUCT 
 
 a mechanical cause, and to depend upon the 
 matter and motion of the blood or animal 
 spirits. 
 
 When the fancy is bound by passion, I 
 know no way to set the mind free, and at lib- 
 erty to prosecute what thoughts the man would 
 make choice of, but to allay the present pas- 
 , sion, or counterbalance it with another ; which 
 is an art to be got by study, and acquaintance 
 with the passions. 
 
 Those who find themselves apt to be carried 
 away with the spontaneous current of their own 
 thoughts, not excited by any passion or inte- 
 rest, must be be very wary and careful in all 
 the instances of it to stop it, and never hu- 
 mour their minds in being thus triflingly busy. 
 Men know the value of their coporeal liberty, 
 and therefore suffer not willingly fetters and 
 chains to be put upon them. To have the 
 mind captivated is, for the time, -certainly the 
 greater evil of the two, and deserves our ut- 
 most care and endeavours to preserve the 
 freedom of our better part. In this case our 
 pains will not be lost ; striving and struggling 
 will prevail, if we constantly, on all such oc- 
 casions, make use of it. We must never in- 
 dulge these trivial attentions of thought ; as 
 soon as we find the mind makes itself a busi- 
 ness of nothing, we should immediately dis- 
 turb and check it, introduce new and more se- 
 rious considerations, and not leave till we 
 
OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 131 
 
 have beaten it off from the pursuit it was 
 upon. This, at first, if we have let the con- 
 trary practice grow to a haVit, will perhaps be 
 difficult ; but constant endeavours will by de- 
 grees prevail, and at last make it easy. And 
 when a man is pretty well advanced, and can 
 command his mind off at pleasure from .inci- 
 dental and undesigned pursuits, it may not be 
 amiss for him to go on farther, and make at- 
 tempts upon meditations or greater moment, 
 that at the last he may have a full power over 
 his own mind, and be so fully master of his 
 own thoughts, as to be able to transfer them 
 from one subject to another, w r ith the same 
 ease that he can lay by any thing he has in his 
 hand, and take something else that he has a 
 mind to in the room of it. This liberty of 
 mind is of great use both in business and study; 
 and he that has got it will have no small ad- 
 vantage of ease and despatch in all that is the 
 chosen and useful employment of his under- 
 standing. 
 
 The third and last way which I mentioned 
 the mind to be sometimes taken up with, I 
 mean the chiming of some particular words or 
 sentence in the memory, and, as it were, ma- 
 king a noise in the head, and the like, seldom 
 lappens but when the mind is lazy, or very 
 loosely and negligently employed. It were bet- 
 ter indeed to be without auch impertinent and 
 useless repetitions : any obvious idea, when it 
 
132 OF THE CONDUCT &C. 
 
 is roving carelessly at a venture, being o! 
 more use, and apter to suggest something 
 worth consideration, than the insignificant buzz 
 of purely empty sounds. But since the rous- 
 ing of the mind, and setting the understanding 
 on work with some degrees of vigour, does for 
 the most part presently set it free from these 
 idle companions ; it may not be amiss, when- 
 ever we find ourselves troubled with them, to 
 make use of so profitable a remedy that is al* 
 ways at hand. 
 
MORAL, 
 ECONOMICAL, AND POLITICAL 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 BY FRANCIS BACON, 
 
 8A.I3IT OF YERULAM, VISCOUNT ST. ALBANS, AND LORD 0IOH 
 
 CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND, 
 
 a tfeto SMltim. 
 
 HARTFORD: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY S. ANDRUS & SON 
 
 1651. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Prefatory Epistle 5 
 
 Of Truth 7 
 
 Death 10 
 
 Unity in Religion 12 
 
 Revenge 18 
 
 Adversity 20 
 
 Simulation and Dissimulation 22 
 
 Parents and Children » 26 
 
 Marriage and Single Life 28 
 
 Envy 30 
 
 Love 37 
 
 Great Place 40 
 
 Boldness 44 
 
 Goodness, and Goodness of Nature 46 
 
 A King 50 
 
 Nobility 53 
 
 Seditions and Troubles 55 
 
 Atheism 64 
 
 Superstition 68 
 
 Travel 70 
 
 Empire 7C 
 
 Counsel 79 
 
 Delays 86 
 
 Cunning S7 
 
 Wisdom for a Man's Self. 92 
 
 Innovations 94 
 
 Despatch 96 
 
 Seeming Wise 98 
 
 Friendship 100 
 
 Expense 110 
 
 The true Greatness of Kingdoms and Estates ..111 
 Regimen of Health 124 
 
4 CONTENTS. 
 
 Pago 
 
 Of Suspicion.... 126 
 
 Discourse .123 
 
 Plantations ...... 131 
 
 Riches 135 
 
 Prophecies .139 
 
 Ambition , 143 
 
 Masques and Triumphs 146 
 
 Nature in Men * . . . . 143 
 
 Custom and Education 150 
 
 Fortune 153 
 
 Usury 155 
 
 Youth and Age 160 
 
 Beauty 162 
 
 Deformity 164 
 
 Building t 166 
 
 Gardens 171 
 
 Negotiating 180 
 
 Followers and Friends 182 
 
 Suitors 135 
 
 Studies 187 
 
 Faction 189 
 
 Ceremonies and Respects 191 
 
 Praise 193 
 
 Vainglory 169 
 
 Honour and ReputaMon . .» . . „ • • , 198 
 
 Judicature 201 
 
 Anger 206 
 
 Vicissitude of Things. t 209 
 
 
PREFATORY EPISTLE. 
 
 TO MR. ANTHONY BACON, 
 
 HIS DEAR BROTHER. 
 
 Loving and beloved brother, I do now 
 like some that have an orchard ill neigh- 
 boured, that gather their fruit before it is 
 ripe, to prevent stealing. These fragments 
 of my conceits were going to print : to 
 labour the stay of them had been trouble- 
 some, and subject to interpretation; to let 
 them pass had been to adventure the wrong 
 they might receive by untrue copies, or 
 by some garnishment which it might please 
 any that should set them forth to bestow 
 upon them : therefore I held it best dis- 
 cretion to publish them myself, as they 
 passed long ago from my pen, without any 
 further disgrace than the weakness of the 
 author ; and as I did ever hold, there might 
 be as great a vanity in retiring and with- 
 drawing men's conceits (except they be 
 of some nature) from the world as in ob- 
 truding them ; so in these particulars I 
 have played myself the inquisitor, and find 
 
6 PREFATORY EPISTLE. 
 
 nothing to my understanding in them 
 contrary or infectious to the state of reli- 
 gion or manners, but rather, as I suppose, 
 medicinable : only I dislike now to put 
 them out, because they will be like the 
 late new halfpence, which though the sil- 
 ver were good, yet the pieces were small ? 
 but since they would not stay with their 
 master, but would needs travel abroad, I 
 have preferred them to you, that are next 
 myself; dedicating them, such as they are, 
 to our love ; in the depth whereof, I assure 
 you, I sometimes wish your infirmities 
 translated upon myself, that her majesty 
 might have the service of so active and 
 able a mind ; and I might be with excuse 
 confined to these contemplations and stu- 
 dies, for which I am fittest ; so commend 
 I you to the preservation of the Divine 
 Majesty. 
 
 Your entire ouing brother, 
 
 FRAN. BACON. 
 
 From my Chamber at Grav f t l*n t 
 this 30th of January 15$r 
 
ESSAYS, 
 
 CIVIL AND MORAL. 
 
 OF TRUTH. 
 
 What is truth? said jesting Pilate, and 
 would not stay for an answer. Certainly there 
 be that delight in giddiness, and count it a 
 bondage to fix a belief ; affecting free will in 
 thinking, as well as in acting : and though the 
 sects of philosophers of that kind be gone, yet 
 there remain certain discoursing wits which 
 are of the same veins, though there be not so 
 much blood in them as was in those of the 
 ancients. But it is not only the difficulty and 
 labour which men take in finding out of truth ; 
 nor again, that, when it is found, it imposeth 
 upon men's thoughts, that doth bring lies in 
 favour ; but a natural, though corrupt love of 
 the lie itself. One of the later schools of the 
 Grecians examineth the matter, and is at a 
 stand to think what should be in it, that men 
 should love lies, where neither they make for 
 pleasure, as with poets ; nor for advantage, as 
 with the merchant; but for the lie's sake. 
 But I cannot tell : this same truth is a naked 
 and open daylight, that doth not show the 
 masques, and mummeries, and triumphs of the 
 
OF TRUTH. 
 
 world, half so stately and daintily as candle- 
 lights. Truth may perhaps come to the price 
 of a pearl, that showeth best by day ; but it 
 will not rise to the price of a diamond or car- 
 buncle, that showeth best in varied lights. 
 A mixture of a lie doth ever add pleasure. 
 Doth any man doubt, that if there were taken 
 out of men's minds vain opinions, flattering 
 hopes, false valuations, imaginations as one 
 would, and the like, but it would leave the 
 minds of a number of men poor shrunken 
 things, full of melancholy and indisposition, 
 and unpleasing to themselves ? One of the 
 fathers, in great severity, called poesy " vinum 
 daemonum," because it filleth the imagination, 
 and yet it is but with the shadow of a lie. 
 But it is not the lie that passeth through the 
 mind, but the lie that sinketh in and settleth 
 in it, that doth the hurt, such as we spake of 
 before. But howsoever these things are thus 
 in men's depraved judgments and affections, 
 yet truth, which only doth judge itself, teach- 
 eth that the inquiry of truth, which is the 
 love-making or wooing of it ; the knowledge 
 of truth, which is the presence of it ; and the 
 belief of truth, which is the enjoying of it ; 
 is the sovereign good of human nature. The 
 first creature of God, in the works of the 
 days, was the light of the sense ; the last was 
 the light of reason ; and his sabbath work, 
 ever since, is the illumination of his Spirit. 
 First he breathed light upon the face of the 
 matter, or chaos ; then he breatheth light into 
 
OF TRUTH. 
 
 the face of man ; and still he breatheth and 
 inspireth light into the face of his chosen. 
 The poet that beautified the sect, that was 
 otherwise inferior to the rest, saith yet excel- 
 lently well, " It is a pleasure to stand upon 
 the shore, and to see ships tossed upon the sea : 
 a pleasure to stand in the window of a castle, 
 and to see a battle, and the adventures thereof 
 below : but no pleasure is comparable to the 
 standing upon the vantage ground of truth, (a 
 hill not to be commanded, and where the air 
 is always clear and serene,) and to see the 
 errors, and wanderings, and mists, and tem- 
 pests in the vale below :" so always that this 
 prospect be with pity, and not with swelling 
 or pride. Certainly it is heaven upon earth to 
 have a man's mind move in charity, rest in 
 providence, and turn upon the poles of truth. 
 
 To pass from theological and philosophical 
 truth to the iruth of civil business, it will be 
 acknowledged, even by those that practise it 
 not, that clear and round dealing is the honour 
 of man's nature, and that mixture of false- 
 hood is like alloy in coin of gold and silver, 
 which may make the metal work the better, 
 but it embaseth it : for these winding and 
 crooked courses are the goings of the serpent, 
 which goeth basely upon the belly, and not 
 upon the feet. There is no vice that doth so 
 cover a man with shame as to be found false 
 and perfidious : and therefore Montaigne saith 
 prettily, when he inquired the reason why the 
 word of the lie should be such a disgrace, and 
 
10 OP DEATH. 
 
 such an odious charge, " If it be well weigh- 
 ed, to say that a man lieth, is as much as to 
 say that he is brave towards God, and a cow r - 
 ard towards men: for a lie faces God, and 
 shrinks from man." Surely the wickedness 
 of falsehood and breach of faith cannot possi- 
 bly be so highly expressed as in that it rfiall 
 be the last peal to call the judgments of God 
 upon the generations of men : it being fore- 
 told th?t when "Christ cometh," he shall not 
 " find faith upon earth." 
 
 OF DEATH. 
 
 Men fear death as children fear to go into 
 the dark ; and as that natural fear in children 
 is increased with tales, so is the other. Cer- 
 tainly, the contemplation of death, as the 
 wages of sin and passage to another world, is 
 holy and religious ; but the fear of it, as a tri- 
 bute due unto nature, is weak. Yet in reli- 
 gious meditations there is sometimes mixture 
 of vanity and of superstition. You shall read in 
 some of the friars' books of mortification, that 
 a man should think with himself what the 
 pain is, if he have but his finger's end pressed, 
 or tortured, and thereby imagine what the 
 pains of death are when the whole body is 
 corrupted and dissolved; when many times 
 death passeth with less pain than the torture 
 of a limb ; for the most vital parts are not the 
 quickest of sense : and by him that spake only 
 
OP DEATH. 11 
 
 as a philosopher and natural man, it was well 
 said, " Pompa mortis magis terret quam mors 
 ipsa." Groans, and convulsions, and a dis- 
 coloured face, and friends weeping, and blacks 
 and obsequies, and the like, show death terri- 
 ble. It is worthy the observing, that there is 
 no passion in the mind of man so weak, but it 
 mates and masters the fear of death ; and, there- 
 fore, death is no such terrible enemy when a 
 man hath so many attendants about him that 
 can win the combat of him. Revenge triumph? 
 over death ; love slights it ; honour aspireth 
 to it ; grief flieth to it $ fear preoccupieth it , 
 nay, we read, after Otho the emperor had slab 
 himself, pity (which is the tenderest of affec- 
 tions) provoked many to die out of mere" 
 compassion to their sovereign, and as the tru- 
 est sort of followers. Nay, Seneca add? 
 niceness and satiety : u Cogita quamdiu eadem 
 feceris ; mori velle, non tantum fortis, aut 
 miser, sed etiam fastidiosus potest." A man 
 would die, though he were neither valiant nor 
 miserable, only upon a weariness to do the 
 same thing so oft over and over. It is no less 
 worthy to observe, how little alteration in good 
 spirits the approaches of death make ; for they 
 appear to be tile same men till the last instant. 
 Augustus Caesar died in a compliment : " Livia, 
 conjugii nostri memcr, vive et vale :" Tibe- 
 rius in dissimulation, as Tacitus saith of him, 
 u Jam Tiberium vires et corpus, non dissimu- 
 latio, deserebant : n Vespasian in a jest, sitting 
 upon the stool, u Ut puto Deus fio :" Galba 
 
12 OP UNITY IN RELIGION. 
 
 with a sentence, " Feri, si ex re sit populi 
 Romani," holding forth his neck : Septimus 
 Sevems in despatch, "Adeste, si quid mihi 
 restat agendum," and the like. Certainly the 
 Stoics bestowed too much cost upon death, and 
 by their great preparations made it appear 
 more fearful. Better, saith he, "qui finem 
 vitse extremum inter munera, ponat naturae." 
 It is as natural to die as to be born ; and to a 
 little infant^ perhaps, the one is as painful as 
 the other. He that dies' in an earnest pursuit 
 is like one that is wounded in hot blood ; who, 
 for the time, scarce feels the hurt; and there- 
 fore a mind fixed and bent upon somewhat 
 that is good, doth avert the dolours of death : 
 but, above all, believe it, the sweetest canticle 
 is, " Nunc dimittis," when a man hath ob- 
 tained worthy ends and expectations. Death 
 hath this also, that it openeth the gate to good 
 fame, and extinguish eth envy : " Extinctus 
 amabitur idem." 
 
 
 OF UNITY IN RELIGION. 
 
 Religion being the chief bond of human 
 society, it is a happy thing when itself is well 
 contained within the true bond of unity. The 
 quarrels and divisions about religion were 
 evils unknown to the heathen. The reason 
 was, because the religion of the heathen con- 
 sisted rather in rites and ceremonies than in 
 any constant belief; for you may imagine what 
 
OP UNITY IN RELIGION. 13 
 
 Kind of faith theirs was, when the chief doc- 
 tors and fathers of their church were the 
 poets. But the true God hath this attribute, 
 that he is a jealous God ; and therefore his 
 worship and religion will endure no mixture 
 nor partner. We shall therefore speak a few 
 words concerning the unity of the church; 
 what are the fruits thereof; what the bonds ; 
 and what the means. 
 
 The fruits of unity (next unto the well 
 pleasing of God, which is all in all) are two f 
 the one towards those that are without the 
 church, the other towards those that are 
 within. For the former, it is certain, that 
 heresies and schisms are of all others the 
 greatest scandals ; yea, more than corruption 
 of manners ; for as in the natural body a 
 wound or solution of continuity is worse than 
 a corrupt humour, so in the spiritual : so that 
 nothing doth so much keep men out of the 
 church, and drive men out of the church, as 
 breach of unity ; and, therefore, whensoever it 
 cometh to that pass that one saith, u ecce in de- 
 serto," another saith, u ecce in penetralibus ;" 
 that is, when some men seek Christ in the con- 
 venticles of heretics, and others in an outward 
 face of a church, that voice had need continu- 
 ally to sound in men's ears, " nolite exire," — - 
 " go not out." The doctor of the Gentiles 
 (the propriety of whos2 vocation drew him to 
 have a special care of those without) saith, 
 " If an heathen come in, and hear you speak 
 with several tongues, will he not say that you 
 2 
 
14 OF UNITY IN RELIGUOff. 
 
 are mad ?" and, certainly, it is little better ; 
 when atheists and profane persons do hear of 
 so many discordant and contrary opinions in 
 religion, it doth avert them from the church, 
 and maketh them " to sit down in the chair of 
 the scorners. 55 It is but a light thing to be 
 vouched in so serious a matter, but yet it ex- 
 presseth well the deformity. There is a mas- 
 ter of scoffing, that, in his catalogue of books 
 of a feigned library, sets down this title of a 
 book, "The Morris-Dance of Heretics: 55 for, 
 indeed, every sect of them hath a diverse pos- 
 ture, or cringe, by themselves, which cannot 
 but move derision in worldlings and depraved 
 politics, who are apt to contemn holy things. 
 
 As for the fruit towards those that are 
 within, it is peace which containeth infinite 
 blessings ; it establisheth faith ; it kindleth 
 chanty ; the outward peace of the church dis- 
 tilleth into peace of conscience, and it turneth 
 the labours of writing and reading contro- 
 versies into treatises of mortification and 
 devotion. 
 
 Concerning the bonds of unity, the true 
 placing of them importeth exceedingly. There 
 appear to be two extremes : for to certain zea- 
 lots all speech of pacification is odious. " Is 
 it peace, Jehu ? w — " What hast thou to do 
 with peace? turn thee behind me. 55 Peace is 
 not the matter, but following and party. Con- 
 trariwise, certain Laodiceans and lukewarm 
 persons think they may accommodate points of 
 religion by middle ways, and taking part of 
 
OP UNITY IN RELIGION. 15 
 
 both, and witty reconcilements, as if they 
 would make an arbitrement between God and 
 man. Both these extremes are to be avoided ; 
 which will be done if the league of Christians 
 penned by our Saviour himself, were in 
 the two cross clauses thereof soundly and 
 plainly expounded : " He that is not with us 
 is against us;" and again, " He that is not 
 against us is with us;" that is, if the points 
 fundamental, and of substance in religion, 
 were truly discerned and distinguished from 
 points not merely of faith, but of opinion, or- 
 der, or good intention. This is a thing may 
 seem to many a matter trivial, and done al- 
 ready ; but if it were done less partially, it 
 would be embraced more generally. 
 
 Of this I may give only this advice, accord- 
 ing to my small model. Men ought to take 
 heed of rending God's church by two kinds of 
 controversies ; the one is, when the matter of 
 the point controverted is too small and light, 
 not worth the heat and strife about it, kindled 
 only by contradiction ; for, as it is noted by one 
 of the fathers, Christ's coat indeed had no 
 seam, but the church's vesture was of divers 
 colours ; whereupon he saith, u in veste vari 
 etas sit, scissura non sit," they be two things, 
 unity and uniformity : the other is, when the 
 matter of the point controverted is great, but it 
 is driven to an overgreat subtilty and obscurity, 
 so that it becometh a thing rather ingenious 
 than substantial. A man that is of judgment 
 and understanding shall sometimes hear igno- 
 
16 OF UNITY IN RELIGION. 
 
 rant men differ, and know well within him 
 self, that those which so differ mean one 
 thing, and yet they themselves would never 
 agree : and if it come so to pass in that distance 
 of judgment, which is between man and man, 
 shall we not think that God above, that knows 
 the heart, doth not discern that frail men, in 
 some of their contradictions, intend the same 
 thing, and accepteth of both ? The nature of 
 such controversies is excellently expressed by 
 St. Paul, in the warning and precept that he 
 giveth concerning the same, " devita profanas 
 vocum novitates, et oppositiones falsi nominis 
 scientiae." Men create oppositions which are 
 not, and put them into new terms so fixed, as 
 whereas the meaning ought to govern the 
 term, the term in effect governeth the mean- 
 ing. There be also two false peaces or unities : 
 the one, when the peace is grounded but upon 
 an implicit ignorance; for all colours will 
 agree in the dark: the other, when it is 
 pieced up upon a direct admission of contraries 
 in fundamental points ; for truth and falsehood, 
 in such things, are like the iron and clay in 
 the toes of Nebuchadnezzar's image ; they 
 may cleave, but they will not incorporate. 
 
 Concerning the means of procuring unity, 
 men must beware, that, in the procuring or 
 muniting of religious unity, they do not dis- 
 solve and deface the laws of charity and of 
 human society. There be two swords amongst 
 Christians, the spiritual and temporal; and 
 both have iheir due oifice and place in the 
 
OF UNITY IN RELIGION. 17 
 
 maintenance of religion but we may not take 
 up the third sword, which is Mahomet's 
 sword, or like unto it : that is, to propagate 
 religion by wars, or by sanguinary persecu- 
 tions to force consciences; except it be in 
 cases of overt scandal, blasphemy, or intermix- 
 ture of practice against the state ; much less 
 to nourish seditions ; to authorize conspiracies 
 and rebellions ; to put the sword into the 
 people's hands, and the like, tending to 
 the subversion of all government, which is the 
 ordinance of God : for this is but to dash the 
 first table against the second ; and so to consi- 
 der men as Christians, as we forget that they 
 are men. Lucretius the poet, when he beheld 
 the act of Agamemnon, that could endure the 
 sacrificing of his own daughter, exclaimed : 
 
 " Tanturn religio potuit suadere malorum." 
 
 What would he have said, if he had known of 
 the massacre in France, or the powder treason 
 of England ? He would have been seven 
 times more epicure and atheist than he was : 
 for as the temporal sword is to be drawn with 
 great circumspection in cases of religion, so it 
 is a thing monstrous to put into the hands of 
 the common people ; let that be left unto the 
 anabaptists, aud other furies. It was great 
 blasphemy, when the devil said, " I will as- 
 cend, and be like the Highest ;" but it is greater 
 blasphemy to personate God, and bring him in 
 saying, " I will descend, and be like the prince 
 of larkness :" and what is it better, to make 
 Li 
 
18 OF REVENGE. 
 
 the cause of religion to descend to the cruel 
 and execrable actions of murdering princes, 
 butchery of people, and subversion of states 
 and governments? Surely this is to bring 
 down the Holy Ghost, instead of the likeness 
 of a dove, in the shape of a vulture or raven ; 
 and to set out of the bark of a Christian church 
 a flag of a bark of pirates and assassins : 
 therefore it is most necessary, that the church 
 by doctrine and decree, princes by their sword, 
 and all learnings, both Christain and moral, as 
 by their mercury rod to damn, and send to hell 
 for ever, those facts and opinions tending to 
 the support of the same, as hath been already 
 in good part done. Surely in councils con- 
 cerning religion, that counsel of the apostle 
 would be prefixed, " Ira hominis non implet 
 justitkm Dei :" and it was a notable observa- 
 tion of a wise father, and no less ingenuously 
 confessed, that those which held and persuaded 
 pressure of consciences were commonly inter- 
 ested therein themselves for their own ends. 
 
 OF REVENGE. 
 
 Revenge is a kind of wild justice, which 
 the more man's nature runs to, the more 
 ought law to w r eed it out : for as for the first 
 wrong, it doth but offend the law, but the re- 
 venge of that wrong putteth the law out of of- 
 fice. Certainly, in taking revenge, a man is 
 />ut even with his enemy; but in passing it 
 
OF REVENGE. 19 
 
 over he is superior ; for it is a prince's part 
 to pardon : and Solomon, I am sure, saith, 
 " It is the glory of a man to pa&3 by an of- 
 fence." That which is passed is gone and 
 irrecoverable, and wise men have enough to do 
 with things present and to come; therefore 
 they do but trifle with themselves that labour 
 in past matters. There is no man dotb a 
 wrong for the wrong's sake, but thereby to 
 purchase himself profit, or pleasure, or honour, 
 or the like ; therefore why should I be angry 
 with a man for loving himself better than me ? 
 And if any man should do wrong, merely out 
 of ill nature, why, yet it is but like the thorn 
 or brier, which prick and scratch, because they 
 can do no other. The most tolerable sort of 
 revenge is for those wrongs which there is no 
 law to remedy : but then, let a man take heed 
 the revenge be such as there is no law to pun- 
 ish, else a man's enemy is still beforehand, and 
 it is two for one. Some, when they take re- 
 venge, are desirous the party should know 
 when it cometh : this is the more generous; 
 for the delight seemethto be not so much in do- 
 ing the hurt as in making the party repent ; but 
 base and crafty cowards are like the arrow 
 that flieth in the dark. Cosmus, Duke of 
 Florence, had a desperate saying against per- 
 fidious or neglecting friends, as if those wrongs 
 were unpardonable. " You shall read," saith 
 he, u that we are commanded to forgive oui 
 enemies, but you never read that we are com 
 manded to forgive our friends " But yet the 
 
20 OP ADVERSITY. 
 
 spirit of Job was in a better tune : " Shall 
 we," saith he, " take good at God's hands, 
 and not be content to take evil also ?" and so 
 of friends in a proportion. This is certain, that 
 a man that studieth revenge keeps his own 
 wounds green, which otherwise would heal, 
 and do well. Public revenges are for the most 
 part fortunate ; as that for the death of Caesar ; 
 for the death of Pertinax ; for the death of 
 Henry the Third of France ; and many more. 
 But in private revenges it is not so ; nay, rath- 
 er vindicative persons live the life of witches ; 
 ivho, as they are mischievous, so end they 
 unfortunate. 
 
 OF ADVERSITY. 
 
 It was a high speech of Seneca, (after the 
 manner of the Stoics,) that the good things 
 which belong to prosperity are to be wished, 
 but the good things that belong to adversity 
 are to be admired : " Bona rerum secundarum 
 optabilia, adversarum mirabilia." Certainly, 
 if miracles be the command over nature, they 
 appear most in adversity. It is yet a higher 
 speech of his than the other, (much too high 
 for a heathen,) " It is true greatness to have 
 in one the frailty of a man, and the security of 
 a God :" — " Vere magnum habere fragilitatem 
 hominis, securitatem Dei." This would have 
 done better in poesy where transcendencies 
 
OF ADVERSITY. 21 
 
 are more allowed ; and the poets, indeed, have 
 been busy with it ; for it is in effect the thing 
 which is figured in that strange fiction of the 
 ancient poets, which seemeth not to be with- 
 out mystery ; nay, and to have some approach 
 to the state of a Christian, u that Hercules, 
 when he went to unbind Prometheus, (by whom 
 human nature is represented,) sailed the length 
 of the great ocean in an earthen pot or pitcher, 
 lively describing Christian resolution, that 
 saileth in the frail bark of the flesh through 
 the waves of the world." But, to speak in a 
 mean, the virtue of prosperity is temperance, 
 the virtue of adversity is fortitude, which in 
 morals is the more heroical virtue. Prosperity 
 is the blessing of the Old Testament, adver- 
 sity is the blessing of the New, which carrieth 
 the greater benediction, and the clearer reve- 
 lation of God's favour. Yet even in the Old 
 Testament, if you listen to David's harp, you 
 shall hear as many hearselike airs as carols ; 
 and the pencil of the Holy Ghost hath la- 
 boured more in describing the afflictions of Job 
 than the felicities of Solomon. Prosperity is 
 not without many fears and distastes ; and ad- 
 versity is not without comforts and hopes. 
 We see in needleworks and embroideries, it is 
 more pleasing to have a lively work upon a 
 sad and solemn ground, than to have a dark 
 and melancholy work upon a lightsome ground : 
 judge, therefore, of the pleasure of the heart 
 by the pleasure of the eye. Certainly virtue 
 
22 OF SIMULATION AND 
 
 is like precious odours, most fragrant where 
 they are incensed or crushed : for prosperity 
 doth best discover vice, but adversity doth best 
 discover virtue. 
 
 OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION. 
 
 Dissimulation is but a faint kind of policy 
 or wisdom ; for it asketh a strong wit and a 
 strong heart to know when to tell truth, and 
 to do it : therefore it is the weaker sort of 
 politicians that are the greatest dissemblers. 
 
 Tacitus saith, u Livia sorted well with the 
 arts of her husband and dissimulation of her 
 son; attributing arts or policy to Augustus, 
 and dissimulation to Tiberius :" and again, 
 when Mucianus encourageth Vespasian to take 
 arms against Viteilius, he saith, " We rise 
 not against the piercing judgment of Augustus, 
 nor the extreme caution or closeness of Tibe- 
 rius :" these properties of arts, or policy, and 
 dissimulation and closeness, are indeed habits 
 and faculties several, and to be distinguished ; 
 for if a man have that penetration of judgment 
 as he can discern what things are to be laid 
 open, and what to be secreted, and what to be 
 showed at half lights, and to whom and when, 
 (which indeed are arts of state, and arts of 
 life, as Tacitus well calleth them,) to him a 
 habit of dissimulation is a hinderance and a 
 poorness. But if a man cannot attain to that 
 judgment, then it is left to him generally to be 
 
DISSIMULATION. 23 
 
 close, and a dissembler ; for where a man can- 
 not choose or vary in particulars, there it is 
 good to take the safest and wariest way in 
 general, like the going softly by one that can- 
 not well see. Certainly the ablest men that 
 ever were have had all an openness and frank- 
 ness of dealing, and a name of certainty and 
 veracity : but then they were like horses well 
 managed, for they could tell passing well when 
 to stop or turn ; and at such times, when they 
 thought the case indeed required dissimulation, 
 if then they used it, it came to pass that the 
 former opinion spread abroad, of their good 
 faith and clearness of dealing, made them al- 
 most invisible. 
 
 There be three degrees of this hiding and 
 veiling of a man's self; the first, closeness, 
 reservation, and secreey, when a man leaveth 
 himself without observation, or without hold 
 to be taken, what he is ; the second, dissimu- 
 lation in the negative, when a man lets fall 
 signs and arguments, that he is not that he is ; 
 and the third, simulation in the affirmative, 
 when a man industriously and expressly feigns 
 and pretends to be that he is not. 
 
 For the first of these, secrecy, it is indeed 
 the virtue of a confessor ; and assuredly the 
 secret man heareth many confessions: ; for who 
 will open himself to a blab or a babbfer ? 
 But if a man be thought secret, it inviteth dis- 
 covery, as the more close air sucketh in the 
 more open ; and, as in confessing, the reveal- 
 ing is not for worldly use, but for the ease of 
 
24 OP SIMULATION AND 
 
 a man's heart, so secret men come to the 
 knowledge of many things in that kind ; while 
 men rather discharge their minds than impart 
 their minds. In few words, mysteries are due 
 to secrecy. Besides (to say truth) nakedness 
 is uncomely, as well in mind as in body ; and 
 it addeth no small reverence to men's manners 
 and actions, if they be not altogether open. 
 As for talkers and futile persons, they are com- 
 monly vain, and credulous withal : for he that 
 talketh what he knoweth will also talk what 
 he knoweth not ; therefore set it down, that a 
 habit of secrecy is both politic and moral : 
 and in this part it is good, that a man's face 
 give his tongue leave to speak ; for the discov- 
 ery of a man's self, by the tracts of his coun- 
 tenance 7 is a great weakness and betraying, by 
 how much it is many times more marked and 
 believed than a man's words. 
 
 For the second, which is dissimulation, it 
 follow -ih many times upon secrecy by a ne- 
 ces°,£tj ) so that he that will be secret must be 
 a Assembler in some degree : for men are too 
 canning to suffer a man to keep an indifferent 
 carriage between both, and to be secret, with- 
 out swaying the balance on either side. They 
 will so beset a man with questions, and draw 
 him on, and pick it out of him, that, without 
 an absurd silence, he must show an inclina- 
 tion one way ; or, if he do not, they will gath- 
 er as much by his silence as by his speech. 
 As for equivocations, or oraculous speeches, 
 they cannot hold out long. So that no man 
 
DISSIMULATION. 25 
 
 can be secret, except he give himself a little 
 scope of dissimulation, which is, as it were, 
 b?it the skirts or train of secrecy. 
 
 But for the third degree, which is simula- 
 tion and false profession, that I hold more cul- 
 pable, and less politic, except it be in great 
 and rare matters : and, therefore, a general 
 custom of simulation (which is this last de- 
 gree) is a vice rising either of a natural false- 
 ness, or tearfulness, or of a mind that hath 
 some main faults ; which, because a man 
 must needs disguise, it maketh him practise 
 simulation in ether things, lest his hand should 
 be out of use. 
 
 The advantages of simulation and dissimu- 
 lation are tfiree : first, to lay asleep opposition, 
 and to surprise; for where a man's intentions 
 are published, it is an alarm to call up all that 
 are against them ; the second is, to reserve to 
 h man's self a fair retreat ; for if a man en- 
 gage himself by a manifest declaration, he 
 must go through, or take a fall : the third is, 
 the better to discover the mind of another; 
 lor to him that opens himself men will hardly 
 a dow themselves averse; but will (fair) let 
 Lim go on, and turn their freedom of speech 
 1 1 freedom of thought ; and therefore it is a 
 good shrewd proverb of the Spaniard, u Tell 
 b lie and find a troth," as if there were no way 
 <«(' discovery but by simulation. There be also 
 tnree disadvantages to set it even ; the first, 
 that simulation and dissimulation commonly 
 carry with them a show of fearfulness, which 
 3 
 
26 OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 
 
 m any business doth spoil the feathers of round 
 flying up to the mark ; the second, that it puz- 
 zleth and perpiexeth the conceits of many, 
 that perhaps would otherwise cooperate with 
 him, and makes a man walk almost alone to his 
 own ends ; the third and greatest is, that it 
 depriveth a man of one of the most principal 
 instruments for action, which is trust and be- 
 lief. The best composition and temperature 
 is, to have openness in fame and opinion ; se- 
 crecy in habit; dissimulation in seasonable 
 use, and a power to feign, if there be no 
 remedy. 
 
 OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 
 
 The joys of parents are secret, and so are 
 their griefs and fears ; they cannot utter the 
 one, nor they will not utter the other. Chil- 
 dren sweeten labours, but they make misfor- 
 tunes more bitter ; they increase the cares of 
 life, but they mitigate the remembrance of 
 death. The perpetuity by generation is com- 
 mon to beasts ; but memory, merit, and noble 
 works are proper to men : and surely a man 
 shall see the noblest works and foundations 
 have proceeded from childless men, which 
 have sought to express the images of their 
 minds, where those of their bodies have failed ; 
 so the care of posterity is most in them that 
 have no posterity. They that are the first 
 raisers of their houses are most indulgent 
 
OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 27 
 
 towards their children, beholding them as the 
 continuance, not only of their kind, but of 
 their work ; and so both children and creatures. 
 The difference in affection of parents to- 
 wards their several children is many times un- 
 equal and sometimes unworthy, especially in 
 the mother ; as Solomon saith, " a wise son 
 rejoiceth the father, but an ungracious son 
 shames the mother. 3 ' A man shall see, 
 where there is a house full of children, one or two 
 of the eldest respected, and the youngest made 
 wantons ; but in the midst some that are as it 
 were forgotten, who, many times, nevertheless, 
 prove the best. The illiberality of parents, in 
 allowance towards their children, is a harmful 
 error ; and makes them base ; acquaints them 
 with shifts ; makes them sort with mean com- 
 pany ; and makes them surfeit more when they 
 come to plenty : and therefore the proof is best 
 when men keep their authority towards their 
 children, but not their purse. Men have a 
 foolish manner (both parents and school- 
 masters and servants) in creating and breeding 
 an emulation between brothers during child- 
 hood, which many times sorteth to discord 
 when they are men, and disturbeth families. 
 The Italians make little difference between 
 children and nephews, or near kinsfolks ; but 
 so they be of the lump, they care not, though 
 they pass not through their own body ; and, to 
 say truth, in nature, it is much a like matter; 
 insomuch that we see a nephew sometimes re- 
 sembleth an uncle or a kinsman more than his 
 
28 
 
 OF MARRIAGE AND SINGLE LIFE. 
 
 own parents, as the blood happens. Let pa- 
 rents choose betimes the vocations and courses 
 they mean their children should take, for then 
 they are most flexible ; and let them not too 
 much apply themselves to the disposition of 
 their children, as thinking they will take best 
 to that which they have most mind to. It is 
 true, that, if the affection or aptness of the 
 children be extraordinary, then it is good not 
 to cross it ; but generally the precept is good, 
 " optimum elige, suave et facile illud faciet 
 consuetudo." Younger brothers are com- 
 monly fortunate, but seldom or never where 
 the elder are disinherited. 
 
 OF MARRIAGE AND SINGLE LIFE. 
 
 He that hath wife and children hath given 
 hostages to fortune ; for they are impediments 
 to great enterprises, either of virtue or mis- 
 chief. Certainly the best works, and of great- 
 est merit for the public, have proceeded from 
 the unmarried or childless men ; which, both in 
 affection and means, have married, and endow- 
 ed the public. Yet it were great reason that 
 those that have children should have greatest 
 care of future times, unto which they know 
 they must transmit their dearest pledges. 
 Some there are, who, though they lead a 
 single life, yet their thoughts do end with 
 themselves, and account future times imper- 
 tinences ; nay, there are some other that 
 
OP MARRIAGE AND SINGLE LIFE. 29 
 
 account wife and children but as bills oi 
 charges : nay, more, there are some foolish, rich, 
 covetous men, that take a pride in having no 
 children, because they may be thought so much 
 the richer ; for perhaps they have heard some 
 talk, " Such an one is a great rich man," and 
 another except to it, " Yea, but he hath a 
 great charge of children;" as if it were an 
 abatement to his riches : but the most ordi- 
 nary cause of a single life is liberty, especially 
 in certain self-pleasing and humorous minds, 
 which are so sensible of every restraint, as 
 they will go near to think their girdles and 
 garters to be bonds and shackles. Unmarried 
 men are best friends, best masters, best ser- 
 vants, but not always best subjects ; for they 
 are light to run away; and almost all fugitives 
 are of that condition. A single life doth well 
 with churchmen, for charity will haidly watei 
 the ground where it must first fill a pool. It is 
 indifferent for judges and magistrates ; for, if they 
 be facile and corrupt, you shall have a servant 
 five times worse than a wife. For soldiers, I 
 find the generals commonly, in their hortatives, 
 put men in mind of their wives and children ; 
 and I think the despising of marriage among 
 the Turks maketh the vulgar soldier more 
 base. Certainly wife and children are a kind 
 of discipline of humanity ; and single men, 
 though they be many times more charitable, 
 because their means are less exhaust, yet, on 
 the other side, they are more cruel and hard- 
 hearted, (good to make severe inquisitors,) 
 3 # 
 
30 OF ENVY. 
 
 because their tenderness is not so oft called 
 upon. Grave natures, led by custom, a-nd 
 therefore constant, are commonly loving hus- 
 bands, as was said of Ulysses, " vetulam suam 
 praetulit immortalitatL'' Chaste women are of- 
 ten proud and froward, as presuming upon 
 the merit of their chastity. It is one of the 
 best bonds, both of chastity and obedience, 
 in the wife, if she think her husband wise, 
 which she will never do if she find him jealous. 
 Wives are young men's mistresses, compan- 
 ions for middle age, and old men's nurses ; so 
 as a man may have a quarrel to marry when 
 he will : but yet he was reputed one of the 
 wise men that made answer to the question 
 when a man should marry : — " A young man 
 not yet, an elder man not at all." It is often 
 seen, that bad husbands have very good wives ; 
 whether it be that it raiseth the price of their 
 husbands' kindness when it comes, or that the 
 wives take a pride in their patience ; but this 
 never fails if the bad husbands were of their 
 own choosing, against their friends' consent, 
 for then they will be sure to make good their 
 own folly. 
 
 OF ENVY. 
 
 There be none of the affections which 
 have been noted to fascinate, or bewitch, but 
 love and envy: they both have vehement 
 wishes ; they frame themselves readily into 
 
OF ENVY. 31 
 
 imaginations and suggestions ; and they come 
 easily into the eye, especially upon the pres- 
 ence of the objects which are the points that 
 conduce to fascination, if any such thing there 
 be. We see, likewise, the scripture calleth 
 envy an evil eye ; and the astrologers call the 
 evil influences of the stars evil aspects ; sc that 
 still there seemeth to be acknowledged, in the 
 act of envy, an ejaculation, or irradiation of the 
 eye: nay, some have been so curious as to 
 note, that the times when the stroke or 
 percussion of an envious eye doth most hurt, 
 &re, when the party envied is beheld in glory 
 or triumph ; for that sets an edge upon envy : 
 and, besides, at such times the spirits of the 
 person envied do come forth most into the 
 outward parts, and so meet the blow. 
 
 But, leaving these curiosities, (though not 
 unworthy to be thought on in fit place,) we 
 will handle what persons are apt to envy 
 others; what persons are most subject to be 
 envied themselves ; and what is the differ- 
 ence between public and private envy. 
 
 A man that hath no virtue in himself ever 
 envieth virtue in others ; for men's minds will 
 either feed upon their own good, or upon oth- 
 ers' evil ; and who wanteth the one will prey 
 upon the other : and whoso is out of hope to 
 attain another's virtue will seek to come at 
 even hand by depressing another's fortune. 
 
 A man that is busy and inquisitive is com- 
 monly envious ; for to know much of other 
 men's mat ers cannot be, because all that ado 
 
52 OP ENVY. 
 
 may concern nis own estate ; therefore it must 
 needs be that he taketh a kind of play-pleasure 
 in looking upon the fortunes of others ; neither 
 can he that mindeth but his own business find 
 much matter for envy ; for envy is a gadding 
 passion, and walketh the streets, and doth not 
 keep at home : " Non est curiosus, quin idem 
 sit rnalevolus." 
 
 Men of noble birth are noted to be envious 
 towards new men when they rise ; for the dis- 
 tance is altered ; and it is like a deceit of the 
 eye, that when others come on they think 
 themselves go back. 
 
 Deformed persons and eunuchs, and old men 
 and bastards, are envious : for he that cannot 
 possibly mend his own case will do what he 
 can to impair another's ; except these defects 
 light upon a very brave and heroical nature, 
 which thinketh to make his natural wants part 
 of his honour ; in that it should be said, " that 
 an eunuch, or a lame man, did such great 
 matters ;" affecting the honour of a miracle : 
 as it was in Narses, the eunuch, and Agesilaus 
 and Tamerlane, that were lame men. 
 
 The same is the case of men who rise after 
 calamities and misfortunes; for they are as 
 men fallen out with the times, and think other 
 men's harms a redemption of their own suf- 
 ferings. 
 
 They that desire to excel in too many mat- 
 ters, out of levity and vain glory, are ever en- 
 vious, for they cannot want work; it being 
 
OF ENVY. 33 
 
 Impossible but many, in some one of those 
 things, should surpass them; which was the 
 character of Adrian the emperor, that mortally 
 envied poets, and painters, and artificers in 
 works, wherein he had a vein to excel. 
 
 Lastly, near kinsfolks, and fellows in office, 
 and those that are bred together, are more apt 
 to envy their equals when they are raised ; 
 for it doth upbraid unto them their own for- 
 tunes, and pointeth at them, and cometh of- 
 tener into their remembrance, and incurreth 
 likewise more into the note of others; and 
 envy ever redoubleth from speech and fame. 
 Cain's envy was the more vile and malignant 
 towards his brother Abel, because, when his 
 sacrifice was better accepted, there was nobody 
 to look on. Thus much for those that are apt 
 to envy. 
 
 Concerning those that are more or less sub- 
 ject to envy : First, persons of eminent virtue, 
 when they are advanced, are less envied ; for 
 their fortune seemeth but due unto them ; and 
 no man envieth the payment of a debt, but 
 rewards and liberality rather. Again, envy is 
 ever joined with the comparing of a man's 
 self; and where there is no comparison, no 
 envy ; and therefore kings are not envied but 
 by kings. Nevertheless it is to be noted, that 
 unworthy persons are most envied at their first 
 coming in, and afterwards overcome it better ; 
 whereas, contrariwise / persons of worth and 
 merit are most envied when their fortune coil- 
 M 
 
34 OF ENVl'. 
 
 tinueth long; for by that time, though their 
 virtue be the same, yet it hath not the same 
 lustre, for fresh men grow up to darken it. 
 
 Persons of noble blood are less envied in 
 their rising ; for it seemeth but right done tc 
 their birth : besides, there seemeth not much 
 added to their fortune ; and envy is as the sun- 
 beams, that beat hotter upon a bank or steep 
 rising ground than upon a flat ; and for the same 
 reason, those that are advanced by degrees are 
 less envied than those that are advanced sud- 
 denly, and "per sal turn." 
 
 Those that have joined with their honour 
 great travels, cares, and perils, are less subject 
 to envy ; for men think that they earn their 
 honours hardly, and pity them sometimes ; and 
 pity ever healeth envy : wherefore you shall 
 observe, that the more deep and sober sort of 
 politic persons, in their greatness, are ever be- 
 moaning themselves what a life they lead, 
 chanting a "quanta patimur;" not that they 
 feel it so, but only to abate the edge of envy : 
 but this is to be understood of business that is 
 laid upon men, and not such as they call unto 
 themselves ; for nothing increaseth envy more 
 than an unnecessary and ambitious engrossing 
 of business ; and nothing doth extinguish envy 
 more than for a great person to preserve all 
 other inferior officers in their full rights and 
 pre-eminences of their places; for by that 
 means there b^ so many screens between him 
 and envy. 
 
 / 
 
. OP ENVY. 35 
 
 Above all, those are most subject to envy, 
 v;hich carry the greatness of their fortunes in 
 an insolent and proud manner : being never 
 well but while they are showing how great 
 they are, either by outward pomp, or by tri- 
 umphing over all opposition or competition : 
 whereas wise men will rather do sacrifice to 
 envy, in suffering themselves sometimes ot 
 purpose to be crossed and overborne in 
 things that do not much concern them. Not- 
 withstanding so much is true, that the carriage 
 of greatness in a plain and open manner (so 
 it be without arrogancy and vain glory) doth 
 draw less envy than if it be in a more crafty 
 and cunning fashion ; for in that course a man 
 doth but disavow fortune, and seemeth to be 
 conscious of his own want in worth, and doth 
 but teach others to envy him. 
 
 Lastly, to conclude this part ; as we said 
 in the beginning that the act of envy had 
 somewhat in it of witchcraft, so there is no 
 other care of envy but the cure of witchcraft ; 
 and that is, to remove the lot, (as they call it,) 
 and to lay it upon another ; for which purpose 
 the wiser sort of great persons bring in ever 
 upon the stage somebody upon whom to de- 
 rive the envy that would come upon them- 
 selves; sometimes upon ministers and ser- 
 vants, sometimes upon colleagues and associ- 
 ates, and the like ; and for that turn there are 
 never wanting some persons of violent and 
 undertaking natures, who, so they may have 
 power and business, will take it at any cost. 
 
36 OP ENVY. 
 
 Now, to speak of public envy : there is yet 
 some good in public envy, whereas in private 
 there is none; for public envy is as an ostra- 
 cism, that eclipseth men when they grow too 
 great : and therefore it is a bridle also to great 
 ones to keep within bounds. 
 
 This envy being in the Latin word " invi- 
 dia," goeth in the modern languages by the 
 name of discontentment ; of which we shall 
 speak in handling sedition : it is a disease in 
 a state like to infection : for as infection 
 spreadeth upon that which is sound, and taint- 
 eth it ; so, when envy is gotten once into a 
 state, it traduceth even the best actions thereof, 
 and turneth them into an ill odour ; and there- 
 fore there is little won by intermingling of 
 plausible actions : for that doth argue but a 
 weakness and fear of envy, which hurteth so 
 much the more, as it is likewise usual in in- 
 fections, which, if you fear them, you call them 
 upon you. 
 
 This public envy seemeth to bear chiefly 
 upon principal officers or ministers, rather than 
 upon kings and states themselves. But this is 
 a sure rule, that if the envy upon the minister 
 be great, when the cause of it in him is small ; 
 or if the envy be general in a manner upon all 
 the ministers of an estate, then the envy 
 (though hidden) is truly upon the state itself 
 And so much of public envy or discontent, and 
 the difference thereof from private envy, which 
 was handled in the first place* 
 
OF LOVE. 37 
 
 We will add this in general, touching the af- 
 fection of envy, that of all other affections it 
 is the most importune and continual ; for of 
 other affections there is occasion given but now 
 and then; and therefore it was well said, 
 " Invidia festos dies non agit :" for it is ever 
 working upon some or other. And it is also 
 noted, that love and envy do make a man pine, 
 which other affections do not, because they are 
 not so continual. It is also the vilest affection, 
 and the most depraved ; for which cause it is 
 the proper attribute of the devil, who is called, 
 " The envious man, that soweth tares amongst 
 the wheat by night;" as it always cometh to 
 pass, that envy worketh subtly, and in the 
 dark, and to the prejudice of good things, such 
 as is the wheat. 
 
 OF LOVE. 
 
 The stage is more beholding to love than 
 the life of man ; for as to the stage, love is 
 ever matter of comedies, and now and then 
 of tragedies ; but in life it doth much mis- 
 chief ; sometimes like a siren, sometimes like 
 a fury. You may observe, that, amongst all 
 the groat and worthy persons, (whereof the 
 raemorv remaineth, either ancient or recent,) 
 there is not one that hath been transported to 
 the mad degree of love ; which shows that 
 great spirits and great business do keep out 
 4 
 
38 OP LOVE. 
 
 this weak passion. You must except, never- 
 theless, Marcus Antonius, the half partner of 
 the empire of Rome, and Appius Claudius, the 
 decemvir and lawgiver; whereof the former 
 was indeed a voluptuous man and inordinate ; 
 hut the latter was an austere and wise man : 
 and therefore it seems (though rarely) that 
 love can find entrance, not only into an open 
 heart, but also into a heart well fortified, if 
 watch be not well kept. It is a poor saying 
 of Epicurus, " Satis magnum alter alteri thea- 
 trum sumus ;" as if man, made for the con- 
 templation of heaven, and all noble objects, 
 should do nothing but kneel before a little 
 idol, and make himself a subject, though not 
 of the mouth, (as beasts are,) yet of the eye, 
 which was given him for higher purposes. It 
 is a strange thing to note the excess of this 
 passion, and how it braves the nature and value 
 of things by this, that the speaking in a per- 
 petual hyperbole is comely in nothing but in 
 love : neither is it merely in the phrase ; for 
 whereas it hath been well said, "that the 
 arch flatterer, with whom all the pretty flat- 
 terers have intelligence, is a man's self;" cer- 
 tainly the lover is more ; for there was never 
 a proud man thought so absurdly well of him- 
 self as the lover doth of the person loved; 
 and therefore it was well said, "that it is 
 impossible to love and to be wise." Neither 
 doth this weakness appear to others only, and 
 not to the party loved, but to the loved most 
 of all, except the love be reciprocal ; for it is 
 
OF LOVE. 39 
 
 a true rule, that love is ever rewarded either 
 with the reciprocal or with an inward or secret 
 contempt ; by how much more the men ough' 
 to beware of this passion, which loseth noi 
 only other things, but itself. As for the other 
 losses, the poet's relation doth well figure 
 them ; u that he that preferred Helena quitted 
 the gifts of Juno and Pallas ;" for whoso- 
 ever esteemeth too much of amorous affection 
 quitteth both riches and wisdom. This pas- 
 sion hath its floods in the very times of weak- 
 ness, which are, great prosperity and great ad- 
 versity, though this latter hath been less 
 observed; both which times kindle love, and 
 make it more fervent, and therefore show it to 
 be the child of folly. They do best, who, if 
 they cannot but admit love, yet make it keep 
 quarter, and sever it wholly from their serious 
 affairs and actions of life ; for, if it check once 
 with business, it troubleth men's fortunes, and 
 maketh men chat they can no ways be true to 
 their own ends. I know not how, but mar- 
 tial men are given to love ; I think it is but as 
 they are given to wine ; for perils commonly 
 ask to be paid in pleasures. There is in man's 
 nature a secret inclination and motion towards 
 love of others, which, K it be not spent upon 
 some one, or a few, doth naturally spread it- 
 self towards many, and maketh men become 
 humane and charitable, as it is seen sometimes 
 in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind; 
 friendly love perfecteth it; but wanton love 
 corrupt rlh and embaseth it. 
 
40 OP GREAT PLACE 
 
 OF GREAT PLACE. 
 
 Men in great place are thrice servants 
 servants of the sovereign or state, servants of 
 fame, and servants of business; so as they 
 have no freedom, neither in their persons, nor 
 in their actions, nor in their times. It is a 
 strange desire to seek power and to lose 
 liberty ; or to seek power over others, and to 
 lose power over a man's self. The rising unto 
 place is laborious, and by pains men come to 
 greater pains ; and it is sometimes base, and 
 by indignities men come to dignities. The 
 standing is slippery, and the regress is either 
 a downfall, or at least an eclipse, which is a 
 melancholy thing : " Cum non sis qui fueris, 
 non esse cur velis vivere ?" Nay, retire men 
 cannot when they would, neither will they 
 when it were reason; but are impatient of 
 privateness even in age and sickness, which 
 require the shadow ; like old townsmen, that 
 will be still sitting at their street door, though 
 thereby they offer age to scorn. Certain- 
 ly great persons had need to borrow other 
 men's opinions to think themselves happy ; 
 for if they judge by their own feeling, they 
 cannot find it : but if they think with them- 
 selves what other men think of them, and that 
 other men would fain be as they are, then they 
 are happy as it were by report, when perhaps 
 they find the contrary within : for they are 
 the first that find their own griefs, though they 
 
OF GREAT PLACE. 41 
 
 be the last that find their own faults. Cer- 
 tainly, men in great fortunes are strangers to 
 themselves, and while they are in the puzzle 
 of business they have no time to tend their 
 health either of body or mind : " Illi mors 
 gravis incubat, qui notus nimis omnibus, igno- 
 tus moritur sibi." In place there is license to 
 do good and evil ; whereof the latter is a 
 curse : for in evil the best condition is not to 
 will ; the second not to can. But power to do 
 good is the true and lawful end of aspiring : for 
 good thoughts (though God accept them, yet) 
 towards men are little better than good dreams 
 except they be put in act ; and that cannot be 
 without power and place, as the vantage and 
 commanding ground. Merit and good works is 
 the end of man's motion ; and conscience o e 
 the same is the accomplishment of man's rest : 
 for if a man can be partaker of God's theatre, 
 he shall likewise be partaker of God's rest : 
 " Et conversus Deus, ut aspiceret opera, qu?e 
 fecenmt manus suse, vidit quod omnia essent 
 bona nimis ;*' and then the sabbath. In the 
 discharge of thy place set before thee the best 
 examples ; for imitation is a.^lobe of precepts ; 
 and after a time set before thee thine own ex- 
 ample ; and examine thyself strictly whetner 
 thou didst not best at first. Neglect not also 
 the examples of those that have carried them- 
 selves ill in the same place ; not to set off thy- 
 self by taxing their memory, but to direct thy- 
 self what to avoid. Reform, therefore, without 
 bravery or scandal of former times and persons ; 
 4* 
 
42 OF GREAT PLACE. 
 
 but yet set it down to thyself, as well to create 
 good precedents as to follow thern. Reduce 
 things to the first institution, and observe 
 wherein and how they have degenerated ; but 
 yet ask counsel of both times ; of the ancient 
 time what is best ; and of the latter time what 
 is fittest. Seek to make thy course regular, 
 that men may know beforehand what they 
 may expect; but be not too positive and peremp- 
 tory ; and express thyself well when thou di- 
 gressest from thy rule. Preserve the right of 
 thy place, but stir not questions of jurisdiction ; 
 and rather assume thy right in silence, and 
 " de facto," than voice it with claims and 
 challenges. Preserve likewise the rights of 
 inferior places ; and think it more honour to 
 direct in chief than to be busy in all. Embrace 
 and invite helps and advices touching the exe- 
 cution of thy place , and do not drive awa) 
 such as bring thee information as meddlers, but 
 accept of them in good part. The vices of 
 authority are chiefly four ; delays, corruption, 
 roughness, and facility. For delays, give easy 
 access ; keep times appointed ; go through 
 with that which is in hand, and interlace not 
 business but of necessity. For corruption, 
 do not only bind thine own hands or thy ser- 
 vant's hands from taking, but bind the hands 
 of suitors also from offering ; for integrity used 
 doth the one ; but integrity professed, and with 
 a manifest detestation of bribery, doth the 
 other ; and avoid not only the fault, but the 
 suspicion. Whosoever is found variable, and 
 
OF GREAT PLACE. 43 
 
 changeth manifestly without manifest cause, 
 giveth suspicion of corruption ; therefore, al- 
 ways, when thou changest thine opinion or 
 course, profess it plainly, and declare it, to- 
 gether with the reasons that move thee to 
 change, and do not think to steal it. A ser- 
 vant or a favourite, if he be inward, and no 
 other apparent cause of esteem, is commonly 
 thought but a by-way to close corruption. For 
 roughness, it is a needless cause of discontent : 
 severity breedeth fear, but roughness breedeth 
 hate. Even reproofs from authority ought to 
 be grave, and not taunting. As for facility, it 
 is worse than bribery ; for bribes come but 
 now and then ; but if importunity or idle re- 
 spects lead a man, he shall never be without ; 
 as Solomon saith, " To respect persons it is not 
 good, for such a man will transgress for a piece 
 of bread." It is most true that w r as anciently 
 spoken, " A place showeth the man ; and it 
 showeth some to the better, and some to the 
 worse :" " omnium consensu, capax imperii, 
 nisi imperasset," saith Tacitus of Galba; but 
 of Vespasian he saith, " solus imperantium, 
 Vespasianus mutatus in melius;" though the 
 one was meant of sufficiency, the other of 
 manners and affection. It is an assured sign 
 of a worthy and generous spirit, whom honour 
 amends ; for honour is, or should be, the place 
 of virtue ; and as in nature things move vio- 
 lently to their place, and calmly in their place, 
 so virtue in ambition is violent, in authority 
 settled and calm. All rising to great place is 
 
44 OF BOLDNESS. 
 
 by a winding stair : and, if there be factions, it 
 is good to side a man's self whilst he is in the 
 rising, and to balance himself when he is 
 placed. Use the memory of thy predecessor 
 fairly and tenderly; for, if thou dost not, it 
 is a debt will sure be paid when thou art 
 gone. If thou have colleagues, respect them ; 
 and rather call them when they look not for it, 
 than exclude them when they have reason to 
 look to be called. Be not too sensible or too 
 remembering of thy place in conversation and 
 private answers to suitors ; but let it rather be 
 said, " When he sits in place he is another 
 man." 
 
 OF BOLDNESS. 
 
 It is a trivial grammar-school text, but yet 
 worthy a wise man's consideration. Question 
 was asked of Demosthenes what was the chief 
 part of an orator ? he answered, action : what 
 next ? action : what next again ? action. He 
 said it that knew it best, and had by nature 
 himself no advantage in that he commended. 
 A strange thing, that that part of an orator 
 which is but superficial, and rather the virtue 
 of a player, should be placed so high above 
 those other noble parts of invention, elocution, 
 and the rest; nay, almost alone, as if it were 
 all in all. But the reason is plain. There is 
 in human nature generally more of the fool 
 than of the wise ; and therefore those facul- 
 
OF BOLDNESS. 45 
 
 ties by which the foolish part of men's minds 
 is taken are most potent. Wonderful like 
 is the case of boldness in civil business; 
 what first ? boldness : what second and third ? 
 boldness. And yet boldness is a child of ig- 
 norance and baseness, far inferior to other 
 parts : but, nevertheless, it doth fascinate, and 
 bind hand and foot those that are either shal- 
 low in judgment or weak in courage, which 
 are the greatest part : yea, and prevaileth with 
 wise men at weak times ; therefore we see it 
 hath done wonders in popular states, but with 
 senates and princes less ; and more, ever upon 
 the first entrance of bold persons into action 
 than soon after ; for boldness is an ill keeper 
 of promise. Surely, as there are mountebanks 
 for the natural body, so are there mountebanks 
 for the politic body ; men that undertake great 
 cures, and perhaps have been lucky in two or 
 three experiments, but want the ground of 
 science, and therefore cannot hold out : nay, 
 you shall see a bold fellow many times do Ma- 
 homet's miracle. Mahomet made the people 
 believe that he would call a hill to him, and 
 from the top of it offer up his prayers for the 
 observers of his law. The people assembled : 
 Mahomet called the hill to come to him again 
 and again ; and when the hill stood still he was 
 never a whit abashed, but said, " If the hill 
 will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to 
 the fiii)." So these men, when they have prom- 
 ised great matters, and failed most shamefully, 
 yet (if they have the perfection of boldness) 
 
46 OF GOODNESS, AND 
 
 they will but slight it over, and make a turn, and 
 no more ado. Certainly, to men of great judg- 
 ment, bold men are sport to behold ; nay, and 
 to the vulgar, also, boldness hath somewhat of 
 the ridiculous : for, if absurdity be the subject 
 of laughter, doubt you not but great boldness 
 is seldom without some absurdity ; especially 
 it is a sport to see when a bold fellow is out 
 of countenance, for that puts his face into a 
 most shrunken and wooden posture, as needs 
 it must : for in bashfulness the spirits do a lit- 
 tle go and come ; but with bold men, upon like 
 occasion, they stand at a stay ; like a stale at 
 che«s, where it is no mate, but yet the game 
 cannot stir : but this last were fitter for a sat- 
 ire than for a serious observation. This is 
 well to be weighed, that boldness is ever 
 blind ; for it seeth not dangers and inconve- 
 niences : therefore it is ill in counsel, £ood in 
 execution ; so that the right use of bold per- 
 sons is, that they never command in chief, but 
 be seconds, and under the direction of others I 
 for in counsel it is good to see dangers, and in 
 execution not to see them, except they be very 
 great. 
 
 Ol GOODNESS, AND GOODNESS OF NATURE 
 
 I take goodness in this sense, the affecting 
 of the weal of men, which is that the Gre- 
 cians cali Philanthropia ; and the word hu- 
 manity (as it is used) is a little too light to 
 express it. Goodness I call the habit, and 
 
GOODNESS OF NATURE. 47 
 
 goodness of nature the inclination. This, oJ 
 all virtues and dignities of the mind, is th< 
 greatest, being the character of the Deity 
 and without it man is a busy, mischievous 
 wretched thing, no better than a kind of ver 
 min. Goodness answers to the theological 
 virtue charity, and admits no excess but error. 
 The desire of power in excess caused the an- 
 gels to fall ; the desire of knowledge in excess 
 caused man to fall : but in charity there is no ex- 
 cess, neither can angel or man come in danger 
 by it. The inclination to goodness is imprinted 
 deeply in the nature of man ; insomuch that, 
 if it issue not towards men, it will take unto 
 other living creatures ; as it is seen in the 
 Turks, a cruel people, who nevertheless are 
 kind to beasts, and give alms to dogs and 
 birds; insomuch, as Busbechius reporteth, a 
 Christian boy in Constantinople had like to 
 have been stoned for gagging in a waggishness 
 a long-billed fowl. Errors, indeed, in this vir- 
 tue, in goodness or charity, may be committed. 
 The Italians have an ungracious proverb, 
 " Tanto buon che val niente ;" " So good, that 
 he is good for nothing:" and one of the doc- 
 tors of Italy, Nicholas Machiavel, had the 
 confidence to put in writing, almost in plain 
 terms, " That the Christian faith had given up 
 good men in prey to those that are tyrannical 
 and unjust ;" which he spake, because, indeed, 
 there was never law, or sect, or opinion, did so 
 much magnify goodness as the Christian reli- 
 gion doth * therefore, to avoid the scandal, and 
 
< 
 
 48 OF GOODNESS, AND 
 
 the danger both it is good to take knowledge 
 of the errors of a habit so excellent. Seek 
 the good of other men, but be not in bondage 
 to their faces or fancies ; for that is but facility 
 or softness, which taketh an honest mind pris- 
 oner. Neither give thou iEsop's cock a gem, 
 who would be better pleased and happier if he 
 had a barley-corn. The example of God 
 teacheth this lesson truly ; " He sendeth his 
 rain, and maketh his sun to shine upon the 
 just and the unjust;" but he doth not rain 
 wealth, nor shine honour and virtues upon 
 men equally : common benefits are to be com- 
 municated with all, but peculiar benefits with 
 choice. And beware how, in making the por- 
 traiture, thou breakest the pattern : for divinity 
 maketh the love of ourselves the pattern ; the 
 love of our neighbours but the portraiture. 
 " Sell all thou hast, and give it to the poor, and 
 follow me :" but sell not all thou hast, except 
 thou come and follow me ; that is, except thou 
 nave a vocation wherein thou mayest do as 
 much good with little means as with great ; 
 for, otherwise, in feeding the streams, thou dri- 
 est the fountain. Neither is there only a habit 
 of goodness directed by right reason; but 
 there is in some men, even in nature, a dispo- 
 sition towards it; as, on the other side, there 
 is a natural malignity : for there be that in 
 their nature do not affect the good of others 
 The lighter sort of malignity turneth but to a 
 crossness, or frowardness, or aptness to oppose, 
 or dirhcileness, or the like ; but the deeper 
 
GOODNESS OP NATURE. 49 
 
 sort to envy or mere mischief. Such men, in 
 other men's calamities, are, as it were, in sea- 
 son, and are ever on the loading parts : not so 
 good as the dogs that licked Lazarus' sores, 
 but like Hies that are still buzzing upon any 
 thing that is raw ; misanthropi, that make it 
 their practice to bring men to the bough, and yet 
 have never a tree for the purpose in their gar- 
 dens, as Timon had : such dispositions are the 
 very errors of human nature, and yet they are 
 the fittest timber to make great politics of; 
 like to knee timber, that is good for ships that 
 are ordained to be tossed, but not for building 
 houses that shall stand firm. The parts and 
 signs of goodness are many. If a man be 
 gracious and courteous to strangers, it shows 
 he is a citizen of the world, and that his heart 
 is no island cut oif from other lands, but r. 
 continent that joins to them : if he be com- 
 passionate towards the afflictions of others, it 
 shows that his heart is like the noble tree that 
 is wounded itself when it gives the balm : if 
 he easily pardons and remits offences, it shows 
 that his mind is planted above injuries, so that 
 he cannot be shot : if he be thankful for small 
 benefits, it shows that he weighs men's minds, 
 and not their trash : but, above all, if h? have 
 St. Paul's perfection, that he would wish to be 
 an anathema from Christ, for the salvation of 
 his brethren, it shows much of a divine na- 
 ture, and a kind of conformity with Christ 
 himself. 
 
 N 
 
50 OP A KiNG. 
 
 OF A KING. 
 
 1. A king is a mortal god on earth, untc 
 whom the living God hath lent his own name 
 as a great honour ; but withal told him, he 
 should die like a man, lest he should be proud, 
 and flatter himself that God hath with his 
 name imparted unto him his nature also. 
 
 2. Of all kind of men, God is the least be- 
 holding unto them; for he doeth most for 
 them, and they do ordinarily least for him. 
 
 3. A. king, that would not feel his crown too 
 heavy for him, must wear it every day ; but il 
 he think it too light, he knoweth not of what 
 metal it is made. 
 
 4. He must make religion the rule of gov- 
 ernment, and not to balance the scale ; for he 
 that casteth in religion only to make the scales 
 even, his own weight is contained in those char- 
 acters, " Mene, mene, tekel upharsin," " He 
 is found too light, his kingdom shall be taken 
 from him." 
 
 5. And that king that holds not religion the 
 best reason of state, is void of all piety and 
 justice, the supporters of a king. 
 
 6. He must be able to give counsel himself, 
 but not rely thereupon ; for though happy 
 events justify their counsels, yet it is better 
 that the evil event of good advice be rather 
 imputed to a subject than a sovereign. 
 
 7. He is the fountain of lioncur, which 
 should not run with a waste pine, lest the 
 
OF A KING. 51 
 
 courtiers sell the water, and then (as papists 
 say of their holy wells) it loses the virtue. 
 
 8. He is the life of the law, not only as he 
 is " lex loquens" himself, but because he an- 
 imateth the dead letter, making it active to- 
 wards all his subjects, "praemio et poena." 
 
 9. A wise king must do less in altering his 
 laws than he may ; for new government is ever 
 dangerous ; it being true in the body politic, as 
 in the corporal, that " omnis subita immutatio 
 est periculosa:" and though it be for the bet- 
 ter, yet it is not without a fearful apprehen- 
 sion; for he that changeth the fundamental 
 laws of a kingdom thinketh there is no good 
 title to a crown but by conquest. 
 
 10. A king that setteth to sale seats of jus- 
 tice oppresseth the people ; for he teacheth his 
 judges to sell justice ; and " precio parata pre- 
 cio venditur justitia." 
 
 11. Bounty and magnificence are virtues 
 very regal, but a prodigal king is nearer a ty- 
 rant than a parsimonious ; for store at home 
 draweth not his contemplations abroad; but 
 want suppiieth itself of what is next, and 
 many times the next way : a king herein must 
 be wise, and know what he may justly do. 
 
 12. That king which is not feared is not 
 loved ; and he that is well seen in his craft 
 must as well study to be feared as loved ; yet 
 not loved for fear, but feared for love. 
 
 13. Therefore, as he must always resemble 
 him whose great name he beareth, and that as 
 in manifesting the sweet influence of his mercy 
 
£2 OP A KING. 
 
 on the severe stroke of his justice sometimes, 
 so in this not to suffer a man of death to live ; 
 for, besides that the land doth mourn, the re- 
 straint of justice towards sin doth more retard 
 the affection of love than the extent of mercy 
 doth inflame it ; and sure where love is [ill] 
 bestowed, fear is quite lost. 
 
 14. His greatest enemies are his flatterers ; 
 for though they ever speak on his side, yet 
 their words still make against him. 
 
 15 t The love which a king oweth to a weal 
 public should not be restrained to any one par- 
 ticular ; yet that his more special favour do re- 
 flect upon some worthy ones is somewhat 
 necessary, because there are few of that 
 capacity. 
 
 16. He must have a special care of five 
 things, if he would not have his crown to be 
 put to him " infelix felicitas :" 
 
 First, that " simulata sanctitas" be not in 
 the church ; for that is " duplex iniquitas :" 
 
 Secondly, that "inutilis sequitas" sit. not 
 in the chancery : for that is " inepta miseri- 
 cordia :" 
 
 Thirdly, that "utilis iniquitas" keep not 
 the exchequer : for that is " crudele latrocin- 
 ium:" 
 
 Fourthly, that " fidelis temeritas" be not 
 his general : for that will bring but " seram 
 poenitentiam :" 
 
 Fifthly, that "infidelis prudentia*' be not 
 his secretary : for that is " anguis sub viridi 
 herba." 
 
OF NOBILITY. 53 
 
 lb conclude ; as he is of the greatest pow- 
 er, so he is subject to the greatest cares, made 
 the servant of his people, or else he were 
 without a calling at all. 
 
 He, then, that honoureth him not is next 
 an atheist, wanting the fear of God in his 
 heart. 
 
 OF NOBILITY. 
 
 We will speak of nobility first as a portion 
 of an estate, then as a condition of particular 
 persons. A monarchy, where there is no nobil- 
 ity at all, is ever a pure and absolute tyranny, 
 as that of the Turks ; for nobility attempers 
 sovereignty, and draws the eyes of the people 
 somewhat aside from the line loyal : but for 
 democracies they need it not ; and they are 
 commonly more quiet, and less subject to sedi- 
 tion, than where there are stirps of nobles , 
 for men's eyes are upon the business, and not 
 upon the persons ; or if upon the persons, it is 
 for the business' sake, as fittest, and not for 
 flags and pedigree. We see the Switzers last 
 well, notwithstanding their diversity of reli- 
 gion and of cantons ; for utility is their bond, 
 and not respects. The united provinces of 
 the Low Countries in their government ex- 
 cel ; fcr where there is an equality the con- 
 sultations are more indifferent, and the pay- 
 ments and tributes more cheerful. A great 
 and potent nobility addeth majesty to a mon- 
 
54 OP NOBILITY. 
 
 arch, but diminisheth power ; and putteth lile 
 and spirit into the people, but presseth their 
 fortune. It is well when nobles are not too 
 great'for sovereignty nor for justice ; and yet 
 maintained in that height, as the insolency of 
 inferiors may be broken upon them before it 
 come on too fast upon the majesty of kings. 
 A numerous nobility causeth poverty and in- 
 convenience in a state, for it is a surcharge of 
 expense ; and, besides, it being of necessity 
 that many of the nobility fall in time to be 
 weak in fortune, it maketh a kind of dispro- 
 portion between honour and means. 
 
 As for nobility in particular persons, it is a 
 reverend thing to see an ancient castle or 
 building not in decay, or to see a fair timber 
 tree sound and perfect; how much mure to 
 behold an ancient noble family, which hath 
 stood against the waves and weathers of time ? 
 for new nobility is but the act of power, but an- 
 cient nobility is the act of time. Those that 
 are first raised to nobility are commonly more 
 virtuous, but less innocent than their descend- 
 ants ; for there is rarely any rising but by a 
 commixture of good and evil arts : but it is 
 reason the memory of their virtues remain to 
 their posterity, and their faults die with them- 
 selves. Nobility of birth commonly abateth 
 industry ; and he that is not industrious envi- 
 eth him that is ; besides, noble persons cannot 
 go much higher : and he that standeth at a 
 stay when others rise can hardly avoid mo- 
 tions of envy. On the other side, nobility ex- 
 
 
>F SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES. 55 
 
 ti»£«fcrsnc4;h the passive envy from others 
 towards the,m, because they are in posses- 
 sion ot honour Certainly, kings that have 
 able men of their noDihty shall find ease in 
 employing them, and a better slide into their 
 business ; for people naturally bend to them 
 as born in some sort to command. 
 
 OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES 
 
 Shepherds of people had need know tile 
 calendars of tempests in states, which are com- 
 monly greatest when things grow to equality , 
 as natural tempests are greatest about the equi- 
 noctia ; and as there are certain hollow blasts 
 of wind and secret swellings of seas before a 
 tempest, so are there in states : 
 
 "Ille etiam easels instare tumultus 
 
 Saepe monet, fraudesque et operta tumescere bella." 
 
 Libels and licentious discourses against the 
 state, when they are frequent and open ; and 
 in like sort false newr often running up and 
 down, to the disadvantage of the state, and 
 hastily embraced, are amongst the signs of 
 troubles. Virgil, giving the pedigree of Fame, 
 saith she was sister to the giants : 
 
 11 Illam terra parens, ira irritata deorum, 
 Extremam (ut perhibent) Cceo Enceladoque sororem 
 Progenuit." JEneid, IV. 177. 
 
 As if fames were the relics of seditions past ; 
 but they are no less indeed the preludes of se- 
 
56 OF SEDITIONS 
 
 ditions to come. Howsoever he notetfe it 
 right, that seditious tumults and seditious 
 fames differ no more but as brother and^ sister, 
 masculine and feminine ; especially if it come 
 to that, that the best actions of a state, and 
 the most plausible, and which ought to give 
 greatest contentment, are taken in ill sense, 
 and traduced : for that shows the envy great, 
 as Tacitus saith, u conflata, magna invidia, seu 
 bene, seu male, gesta premunt." Neither 
 doth it follow, that because these fames are a 
 sign of troubles, that the suppressing of them 
 with too much severity should be a remedy 
 of troubles ; for the despising of them many 
 times checks them best, and the going about 
 to stop them doth but make a wonder long 
 lived. Also that kind of obedience, which 
 Tacitus speaketh of, is to be held suspected : 
 " Erant in officio, sed tamen qui mallent man- 
 data imperantium interpietari, quam exequi ;" 
 disputing, excusing, cavilling upon mandates 
 and directions, is a kind of shaking off the 
 yoke, and assay of disobedience ; especially 
 if- in those disputings, they which are for the 
 direction speak fearfully and tenderly, and 
 those that are against it audaciously. 
 
 Also, as Machiavel noteth well, when prin- 
 ces, that ought to be common parents, make 
 themselves as a party, and lean to a side ; it is 
 as a boat that is overthrown by uneven weight 
 on the one side : as was well seen in the 
 time of Henry the Third of France ; for first 
 himself entered league for the extirpation of 
 
AND TROUBLES. 67 
 
 the protestants, and presently after the same 
 league was turned upon himself: for when the 
 authority of princes is made but an accessary 
 to a cause, and that there be other bands that 
 tie faster than the band of sovereignty, kings 
 begin to be put almost out of possession. 
 
 Also, when discords, and quarrels, and fac- 
 tions, are carried openly and audaciously, it is 
 a sign the reverence of government is lost ; 
 for the motions of the greatest persons in a 
 government ought to be as the motions of the 
 planets under "primum mobile,' 5 (according 
 to the old opinion,) which is, that every of 
 them is carried swiftly by the highest motion, 
 and softly in their own motion : and, there- 
 fore, when great ones in their own particular 
 motion move violently, and, as Tacitus ex- 
 presseth it well, " liberius quam ut imperanti- 
 um meminissent," it is a sign the orbs are out 
 of frame : for reverence is that wherewith 
 princes are girt from God, who threateneth 
 the dissolving thereof; " solvam cingula re- 
 gum." 
 
 So when any of the four pillars of government 
 are mainly shaken, or weakened, (which are 
 religion, justice, counsel, and treasure,) men 
 had need to pray for fair weather. But let us 
 pass from this part of predictions, (concerning 
 which, nevertheless, more light may be taken 
 from that, which followeth,) and let us speak 
 first of the materials of seditions, then of the 
 motives of them, and thirdly of the reme- 
 dies. 
 
58 OF SEDITIONS 
 
 Concerning the materials of seditions, it is 
 a thing well to be considered ; for the surest 
 way to prevent seditions (if the times do bear 
 it) is to take away the matter of them ; for, 
 if there be fuel prepared, it is hard to tell 
 whence the spark shall come that shall set it 
 on fire. The matter of seditions is of two 
 kinds, much poverty and much discontent- 
 ment. It is certain, so many overthrown es- 
 tates, so many votes for troubles. Lucan noteth 
 well the state of Rome before the civil war: 
 
 u Hinc usura vorax, rapidumque in tempore feenus, 
 Hinc concussa fides, et niultis utile bellum." 
 
 This same " multis utile bellum" is an assur- 
 ed and infallible sign of a state disposed to se- 
 ditions and troubles ; and if this poverty and 
 broken estate in the better sort be joined with 
 a want and necessity in the mean people, the 
 danger is imminent and great : for the rebel- 
 lions of the belly are the worst. As for dis- 
 contentments, they are in the politic body like 
 to humours in the natural, which are apt to 
 gather a preternatural heat and to inflame ; and 
 let no prince measure the danger of them by 
 this, whether they be just or unjust : for that 
 were to imagine people to be too reasonable, 
 who do often spurn at their own good; nor 
 yet by this, whether the griefs whereupon they 
 rise be in fact great or small ; for they are the 
 most dangerous discontentments where the 
 fear is greater than the feeling : " Dolendi mo- 
 dus, timendi non item :" besides, in great op- 
 
AND TROUBLES. 59 
 
 pressions, the same things that provoke the 
 patience do withal meet the courage ; but in 
 fears it is not so : neither let any prince, or 
 state, be secure concerning discontentments 
 because they have been often, or have been 
 long, and yet no peril hath ensued : for as it is 
 true that every vapour, or fume, doth not turn 
 into a storm, so it is nevertheless true, that 
 storms, though they blow over divers times, yet 
 may fall at last ; and, as the Spanish proverb 
 noteth well, " The cord breaketh at the last 
 by the weakest pull." 
 
 The causes and motives of seditions are, 
 innovation in religion, taxes, alteration of laws 
 and customs, breaking of privileges, general 
 oppression, advancement of unworthy persons, 
 strangers, deaths, disbanded soldiers, factions 
 grown desperate ; and whatsoever in offending 
 people joineth and knitteth them in a common 
 cause. 
 
 For the remedies, there may be some gen- 
 eral preservatives, whereof we will speak : as 
 for the just cure, it must answer to the partic- 
 ular disease ; and so be left to counsel rather 
 than rule. 
 
 The first remedy, or prevention, is to re- 
 move, by all means possible, that material 
 cause of sedition whereof we speak, which 
 is, want and poverty in the estate ; to which 
 purpose serveth the opening and well balanc- 
 ing of trade ; the cherishing of manufactures , 
 the banishing of idleness ; the repressing oi 
 waste and excess, bv sumptuary laws ; the im- 
 
60 OF SEDITIONS 
 
 provement and husbanding of the soil; the 
 regulating of prices of things vendible; the 
 moderating of taxes and tributes, and the like. 
 Generally, it is to be foreseen that the popula- 
 tion of a kingdom (especially if it be not 
 mown down by wars) do not exceed the stock 
 of the kingdom which should maintain them : 
 neither is the population to be reckoned only 
 by number ; for a smaller number that spend 
 more and earn less, do wear out an estate 
 sooner than a greater number that live low 
 and gather more : therefore, the multiplying 
 of nobility, and other degrees of quality, in 
 an over-proportion to the common people, doth 
 speedily bring a state to necessity ; and so 
 doth likewise an overgrown clergy, for they 
 bring nothing to the stock; and in like man- 
 ner, when more are bred scholars than pre- 
 ferments can take off. 
 
 It is likewise to be remembered that, foras- 
 much as the increase of any estate must be up- 
 on the foreigner, (for whatsoever is somewhere 
 gotten is somewhere lost,) there be but three 
 things which one nation selleth unto another ; 
 the commodity as nature yieldeth it ; the man- 
 ufacture ; and the vecture, or carriage ; so that, 
 if these three wheels go, wealth will flow as 
 in a spring tide. And it cometh many times 
 to pass, that " materiam superabit opus," that 
 the work and carriage is worth more than the 
 material, and enricheth a state more ; as is no- 
 tably seen in the Low Country men, who have 
 lie best mines above ground in the world. 
 
AND TK0UBLES. CI 
 
 Above all things, good policy is to be used. 
 that the treasure and moneys in a state be not 
 gathered into few hands; for, otherwise, a 
 state may have a great stock, and yet starve : 
 and money i^ like muck d except it be 
 
 spread. This is done chierly-by suppressing, 
 the least, keeping a strait hand upon the 
 devouring trades of usury, engrossing, great 
 id the like. 
 For removing discontentments, or, at least, 
 inger of them, there is in every state (as 
 low) two portions of subjects, the nobles 
 and the commonalty. When one of these is 
 discontent, the danger is not great : for com- 
 mon people are ot slow motion, if ftey be not 
 excited by the greater sort ; ana he greater 
 re of small strength, except the multi- 
 tude be apt, and ready to move o{ hemselves : 
 then is the danger, when the greater sort 
 do but wait for the troubling A the waters 
 gst the meaner, that then they may de- 
 themselves. The poets feign that the 
 f the gods would have bound Jupiter, 
 he hearing of, by the counsel oi Pallas, 
 sent for Briareus, with his hundred hand-, to 
 in to his aid : an emblem, no doubt, to 
 how safe it is for monarchs to make sure 
 _^ good will of common people. 
 give moderate liberty for griefs and dis- 
 contentments to evaporate (ao it be without 
 too great insolency or bravery' is a safe way : 
 for he that turneth the humours back, and 
 maketh the wound bleed inwards, endan- 
 6 
 
62 OF SEDITIONS 
 
 gereth malign ulcers and pernicious irnposthu- 
 mations. 
 
 The part of Epimetheus might well become 
 Prometheus, in the case of discontentments, 
 for there is not a better provision against them. 
 Epimetheus, when griefs and evils flew abroad, 
 at last shut the lid, and kept hope in the bot- 
 tom of the vessel. Certainly, the politic and 
 artificial nourishing and entertaining of hopes, 
 and carrying men from hopes to hopes, is one 
 of the best antidotes against the poison of dis- 
 contentments : and it is a certain sign of a 
 wise government and proceeding, when it can 
 hold men's hearts by hopes, when it cannot 
 by satisfaction ; and when it can handle things 
 in such manlier as no evil shall appear so per- 
 emptory but that it hath some outlet of hope : 
 which is the less hard to do, because both 
 particular persons and factions are apt enough 
 to flatter themselves, or, at least, to brave that 
 which they believe not. 
 
 Also the foresight and prevention, that there 
 be no likely or fit head whereunto discontented 
 persons may resort, and under whom they may 
 join, is a known, but an excellent point of 
 caution. I understand a fit head to be one 
 that hath greatness and reputation, that hath 
 confidence with the discontented ^arty, and 
 upon whom they turn their eyes, and that 
 is thought discontented in his own particular ; 
 which kind of persons are either to be won 
 and reconciled to the state, and that in a fast 
 and true manner ; o r be fronted with some 
 
AND TROUBLES. 63 
 
 other of the same party that may oppose them, 
 and so divide the reputation. Generally, the 
 dividing and breaking of all factions and com- 
 binations' that are adverse to the stable and set- 
 ting them at a distance, or, at least, distrust 
 among themselves, is not one of the worst 
 remedies ; for it is a desperate case, if those 
 that hold with the proceeding of the state be 
 full of discord and faction, and those that are 
 against it be entire a^d united. 
 
 I have noted, thaft some witty and sharp 
 speeches, which have fallen from princes, have 
 given fire to seditions. Caesar did himself in- 
 finite hurt in that speech, " Sylla nescivit lite- 
 ras, non potuit dictare ;" for it did utterly cut 
 oif that hope which men had entertained, that 
 he would at one time or other give over his 
 dictatorship. Galba undid himself by that 
 speech, " legi a se militem, non emi ;" for it 
 put the soldiers out of hope of the donative : 
 Probus, likewise, by that speech, " si vixero, 
 non opus erit amplius Romano imperio militi- 
 bus;" a speech of great despair for the sol- 
 diers : and many the like. Surely princes had 
 need, in tender matter and ticklish times, to 
 beware what they say, especially in these 
 short speeches, which fly abroad like darts, 
 and are thought to be shot out of their secret 
 intentions ; for as for large discourses, they 
 are flat things, and not so much noted. 
 
 Lastly, let princes, againiSt all events, not be 
 without some great person, one, or rather more, 
 of military valour, near unto them, for the re- 
 
64 OF ATHEISM. 
 
 pressing of seditions in their beginnings ; for 
 without that, there useth to be more trepida- 
 tion in court upon the first breaking out of 
 trouble than were fit ; and the state runneth 
 the danger of that which Tacitus saith, " at- 
 que is habitus animorum fuit, ut pessimum fa- 
 cinus auderent pauci, plures vellent, omnes 
 paterentur :" but let such military persons be 
 assured, and well reputed of, rather than fac- 
 tious and popular; holding also good corre- 
 spondence with the other great men in the 
 state, or else the remedy is worse than the 
 disease. 
 
 OF ATHEISM. 
 
 I had rather believe all the fables in the le- 
 gend, and the Talmud, and the Alcoran, than 
 that this universal frame is without a mind; 
 and, therefore, God never wrought miracles to 
 convince atheism, because his ordinary works 
 convince it. It is true, that a little philosophy 
 inclineth man's mind to atheism, but depth in 
 philosophy bringeth men's minds about to re- 
 ligion ; for, while the mind of man looketh 
 upon the second causes scattered, it may some- 
 times rest in them, and go no farther ; but when 
 it beholdeth the chain of them confederate, 
 and linked together, it must needs fly to Prov- 
 idence and Deity: nay, even that school, 
 which is most accused of atheism, doth most 
 demonstrate religion; that is, the school of 
 
OF ATHEISM. 65 
 
 Leucippus, and Democritus, and Epicurus : 
 for it is a thousand times more credible, that 
 four mutable elements and one immutable fifth 
 essence, duly and eternally placed, need no 
 God, than that an army of infinite small por- 
 tions, or seeds unplaced, should have produced 
 this order and beauty without a divine mar- 
 shal. The scripture saith, " The fool hath 
 said in his heart. There is no God;" it is not 
 said, " The fool hath thought in his heart ;" so 
 as he rather saith it by rote to himself, as that he 
 would have, than that he can thoroughly be- 
 lieve it, or be persuaded of it ; for none deny 
 there is a God but those for whom it maketh 
 that there were no God. It appeareth in 
 nothing more, that atheism is rather in the lip 
 than in the heart of man, than by this, that 
 atheists will ever be talking of that their opin- 
 ion, as if they fainted in it within themselves, 
 and would be glad to be strengthened by the 
 opinion of others : nay, more, you shall have 
 atheists strive to get disciples, as it fareth with 
 other sects ; and, which is most of all, you shall 
 have of them that will suffer for atheism, and 
 not recant ; whereas, if they did truly think that 
 there were no such thing as God, why should 
 they trouble themselves ? Epicurus is charg- 
 ed, that he did not dissemble for his credit's 
 sake, when he affirmed there were blessed na- 
 tures, but such as enjoyed themselves without 
 having respect to the government of the world ; 
 whe r iin they say he did temporize, though in 
 secret he thought there \vas no God : but cer- 
 
 
66 OF ATHEISM. 
 
 tainly he is traduced, for his words are noble 
 and divine: " Non Deos vulgi negare profa- 
 num ; sed vulgi opiniones diis applicare profa- 
 num." Plato could have said no more ; and, 
 although he had the confidence to deny the 
 administration, he had not the power to deny 
 the nature. The Indians of the west have 
 names for their particular gods, though they 
 have no name for God ; as if the heathens 
 should have had the names Jupiter, Apollo, 
 Mars, &c. but not the word Deus, which 
 shows, that even those barbarous people 
 have the notion, though they have not the lat- 
 itude and extent of it : so that against atheists 
 the very savages take part with the very subtl- 
 est philosophers. The contemplative atheist 
 is rare, a Diagoras, a Bion, a Lucian, perhaps, 
 and some others ; and yet they seem to be more 
 than they are ; for that all that impugn a re- 
 ceived religion, or superstition, are, by the ad- 
 verse part, branded with the name of atheists : 
 but the great atheists indeed are hypocrites, 
 which are ever handling holy things, but with- 
 out feeling; so as they must needs be cau- 
 terized in the end. The causes of atheism 
 are, divisions in religion, if there be many; 
 for any one main division addeth zeal to both 
 sides, but many divisions introduce atheism 
 another is, scandal of priests, when it is come 
 to that which St- Bernard saith, "non est jam 
 dicere, ut populus, sic sacerdos ; quia nee sic 
 populus, ut sacerdos :" a third is, a custom of 
 profane scoffing in holy matters, which dotii 
 
OF ATHEISM. 67 
 
 by little and little, deface the reverence of re- 
 ligion; and, lastly, learned times, especially 
 with peace and prosperity; for troubles and 
 adversities do more bow men's minds to reli- 
 gion. They that deny a God destroy a man's 
 nobility; for certainly man is of kin to the 
 beasts by his body ; and, if he be not of kin 
 to God by his spirit, he is a base and ignoble 
 creature. It destroys, likewise, magnanimity, 
 and the raising human nature ; for, take an ex- 
 ample of a dog, and mark what a generosity 
 and courage he will put on when he finds him- 
 self maintained by a man, who to him is instead 
 of a God, or " melior natura ;" which courage 
 is manifestly such as that creature, without 
 that confidence of a better nature than his 
 own, could never attain. So man, when he 
 resteth and assureth himself upon divine pro- 
 tection and favour, gathereth a force and faith, 
 which human nature in itself could not ob- 
 tain ; therefore, as atheism is in all respects 
 hateful, so in this, that it depriveth human na- 
 ture of the means to exalt itself above human 
 frailty. As it is in particular persons, so it is 
 in nations : never was there such a state for 
 magnanimity as Rome : of this state hear 
 what Cicero saith : " Quam volumus, licet, pa- 
 ties conscripti, nos amemus, tamen nee nume- 
 ro Hispanos, nee robore Gallos, nee calliditate 
 Pcenos, nee artibus Graecos, nee denique hoc 
 ipso hujus gentis et terrae domestico nativoque 
 sensu Italos ipsos et Latinos ; sed pietate, ac 
 
t>8 OF SUPERSTITION. 
 
 religione, atque hac una sapientia, quod deo- 
 rum immortalium numine omnia regi, guber- 
 narique per speximus, omnes gentes nationes- 
 que superavimus." 
 
 OF SUPERSTITION. 
 
 It were better to have no opinion of God at 
 all than such an opinion as is unworthy of 
 him ; for the one is unbelief, the other is con- 
 tumely; and certainly superstition is the re- 
 proach of the Deity. Plutarch saith well to 
 that purpose : " Surely (saith he) I had rath- 
 er a great deal men should say there was no 
 such a man at all as Plutarch, than that they 
 should say there was one Plutarch, that would 
 eat his children as soon as they were born ;" 
 as the poets speak of Saturn : and, as the con- 
 tumely is greater towards God, so the danger 
 is greater towards men. Atheism leaves a 
 man to sense, to philosophy, to natural piety, 
 to laws, to reputation : all which may be 
 guides to an outward moral virtue, though re- 
 ligion were not ; but superstition dismounts 
 all these, and erecteth an absolute monarchy 
 in the minds of men : therefore atheism did 
 never perturb states : for it makes men wary 
 of themselves, as looking no farther, and we 
 see the times inclined to atheism (as the time 
 of Augustus Caesar) were civil times : but su- 
 perstition hath been the confusion of many 
 
OF SUPERSTITION. 69 
 
 states, and bringeth in a new " primum mo- 
 bile," that ravisheth all the spheres of gov- 
 ernment. The master of superstition is the 
 people, and in all superstition wise men fol- 
 low fools ; and arguments are fitted to prac- 
 tice in a reversed order. It was gravely said, 
 by some of the prelates in the council of 
 Trent, where the doctrine of the schoolmen 
 bare great sway, that the schoolmen were like 
 astronomers, which did feign eccentrics and 
 epicicles, and such engines of orbs, to save the 
 phenomena, though they knew there were no 
 such things : and, in like manner, that the 
 schoolmen had framed a number of subtile and 
 intricate axioms and theorems, to save the 
 practice of the church. The causes of super- 
 stition are pleasing and sensual rites and cere- 
 monies ; excess of outward and pharisaical 
 holiness; over-great reverence of traditions, 
 which cannot but load the church ; the strata- 
 gems of prelates for their own ambition and 
 lucre ; the favouring too much of good inten- 
 tions, which openeth the gate to conceits and 
 novelties ; the taking an aim at divine mat- 
 ters by human, which cannot but breed mix- 
 ture of imaginations; and, lastly, barbarous 
 times, especially joined with calamities and 
 disasters. Superstition, without a veil, is a 
 deformed thing ; for, as it addeth deformity to 
 an ape to be so like a man, so the similitude 
 of superstition to religion makes it the more 
 deformed : and, as wholesome meat corrupteth 
 to little worms, so good forms and orders cor- 
 
70 OP TRAVEL. 
 
 nipt into a number of petty observances. 
 There is a superstition in avoiding supersti- 
 tion, when men think to do best if they go 
 farthest from the superstition formerly receiv- 
 ed; therefore care should be had that (as it 
 fareth in ill purgings) the good be not taken 
 away with the bad, which commonly is done 
 when the people is the reformer. 
 
 OF TRAVEL. 
 
 Travel, in the younger sort, is part of 
 education ; in the elder, a part of experience. 
 He that travelleth into a country, before he 
 hath some entrance into the language, goeth 
 to school, and not to travel. That young men 
 travel under some tutor, or grave servant, I al- 
 low well ; so that he be such a one that hath 
 the language, and hath been in the country 
 before ; whereby he may be able to tell them 
 what things are worthy to be seen in the coun- 
 try where they go, what acquaintances they 
 are to seek, what exercises or discipline the 
 place yieldeth; for else young men shall go 
 hooded, and look abroad little. It is a strange 
 thing that, in sea voyages, where there is 
 nothing to be seen but sky and sea, men 
 should make diaries; but in land travel, 
 wherein so much is to be observed, for the 
 most part they omit it ; as if chance were fitter 
 to be registered than observation : let diaries, 
 therefore, be brought in use. The things to 
 
OF TRAVEL. 71 
 
 be seen and observed are the courts of prin- 
 ces, especially when they give audience to 
 imbassadors ; the courts of justice, while they 
 sit and hear causes ; and so of consistories ec 
 clesiastic ; the churches and monasteries, with 
 the monuments that are therein extant; the 
 walls and fortifications of cities and towns; 
 and so the havens and harbours, antiquities and 
 ruins, libraries, colleges, disputations, and lec- 
 tures, where any are ; shipping and navies ; 
 houses and gardens of state and pleasure, near 
 great cities; armories-, arsenals, magazines, 
 exchanges, burses, warehouses, exercises of 
 horsemanship, fencing, training of soldiers, and 
 the like ; comedies, such whereunto the better 
 sort of persons do resort ; treasuries of jewels 
 and robe* ; cabinets and rarities ; and, to con- 
 clude, whatsoever is memorable in the places 
 where they go ; after all which the tutors or 
 servants ought to make diligent inquiry. As 
 for triumphs, masks, feasts, weddings, funerals, 
 capital executions, and such shows, men need 
 not be put in mind of them : yet they are not 
 to be neglected. If you will have a young 
 man to put his travel into a little room, and in 
 short time to gather much, this you must do : 
 first, as was said, he must have some entrance 
 into the language before he goeth ; then he 
 must have such a servant, or tutor, as knoweth 
 the country, as was likewise said : let him 
 carry with him also some card, or book, de- 
 scribing the country where he traveLeth, which 
 will be a good key to his inquirv , let him 
 
"12 OF TRAVEL. 
 
 keep also a diary; let him not stay long in 
 one city or town, more or less as the place de- 
 serveth, but not long ; nay, when he stayeth 
 in one city or town, let him change his lodg- 
 ing from one end and part of the town to an- 
 other, which is a great adamant of acquaint- 
 ance; let him sequester himself from the 
 company of his countrymen, and diet in such 
 places where there is good company of the 
 nation where he travelleth : let him, upon his 
 removes from one place to another, procure 
 recommendation to some person of quality re- 
 siding in the place whither he removeth, that 
 he may use his favour in those things he 
 desireth to see or know : thus he may abridge 
 his travel with much profit. As for the ac- 
 quaintance which is to be sought in travel, 
 that which is most of all profitable is acquaint- 
 ance with the secretaries and employed men 
 of ambassadors : for so. in travelling in one 
 country, he shall suck the experience of many : 
 let him also see and visit eminent persons in 
 all kinds, which are of great name abroad, 
 that he may be able to tell how the life agreeth 
 with the fame. For quarrels, they a^e with 
 care and discretion to be avoided; they arc 
 commonly for mistresses, healths, place, and 
 words : and let a man beware how he keepeth 
 company with choleric and quarrelsome per- 
 sons, for they will engage him into their own 
 quarrels. When a traveller returneth home, 
 *et him not leave the countries where he hath 
 travelled altogether behind him ; but maintair 
 
OF EMPIRE. 73 
 
 a correspondence by letters with those of his 
 acquaintance which are of most worth ; and 
 let his travel appear rather in his discourse 
 than in his apparel or gesture ; and in his dis 
 course let him be rather advised in his an- 
 swers than forward to tell stories : and let it 
 appear that he doth not change his country- 
 manners for those of foreign parts ; but only 
 prick in some flowers of that he hath learned 
 abroad into the customs of his own country. 
 
 OF EMPIRE. 
 
 It is a miserable state of mind to have few 
 things to desire, and many things to fear ; and 
 yet that commonly is the case with kings, who, 
 being at the highest, want matter of desire, 
 which makes their minds more languishing ; 
 and have many representations of perils and 
 shadows, which make their minds the less 
 clear : and this is one reason, also, of that ef- 
 fect which the scripture speaketh of, " that 
 the king's heart is inscrutable :" for multitude 
 of jealousies, and lack of some predominant 
 desire, that should marshal and put in order all 
 the rest, maketh any man's heart hard to find 
 or sound. Hence it comes likewise, that prin- 
 ces many times make themselves desires, and 
 set their hearts upon toys ; sometimes upon a 
 building : sometimes unon the erecting of an 
 order sometimes upon the advancing of a 
 7 
 
74 OF EMPIRE. 
 
 person ; sometimes upon obtaining excellence 
 in some art, or feat of the hand ; as Nero, for 
 playing on the harp ; Domitian, for certainty of 
 the hand with the arrow ; Commodus, for 
 playing at fence ; Caracalla, for driving chari- 
 ots, and the like. This seemeth incredible 
 unto those that know not the principle, that 
 the mind of man is more cheered and re- 
 freshed by profiting in small things than by 
 standing at a stay in great. We see also 
 that kings that have been fortunate conquerors 
 in their first years, it being not possible for 
 them to go forward infinitely, but that they 
 must have some check or arrest in their for- 
 tunes, turn, in their latter years, to be supersti- 
 tious and melancholy ; as did Alexander the 
 Great, Dioclesian, and in our memory Charles 
 the Fifth, and others : for he that is used to 
 go forward, and findeth a stop, falleth out of 
 his own favour, and is not the thing he was. 
 
 To speak now of the true temper of empire, 
 it is a thing rare and hard to keep ; for both 
 temper and distemper consist of contraries : 
 but it is one thing to mingle contraries, anoth- 
 er to interchange them. The answer of Apol- 
 lonius to Vespasian is full of excellent instruc- 
 tion. Vespasian asked him, what was Nero's 
 overthrow. He answered, Nero could touch 
 and tune the harp well, but in government 
 sometimes he used to wind the pins too high, 
 sometimes to let them down too low ; and cer- 
 tain it is, that nothing destroy eth authority so 
 
OP EMPIRE. 75 
 
 much as the unequal and untimely interchange 
 of power pressed too far, and relaxed too 
 much. 
 
 This is true, that the wisdom of all these 
 latter times in princes' affairs, is rather fine 
 deliveries, and shiftings of dangers and mis- 
 chiefs, when they are near, than solid and 
 grounded courses to keep them aloof : but this 
 is but to try masteries with fortune ; and let 
 men beware how they neglect and suffer mat- 
 ter of trouble to be prepared ; for no man can 
 forbid the spark, nor tell whence it may come. 
 The difficulties in princes' business are many 
 and great ; but the greatest difficulty is often 
 in their own mind; for k is common with 
 princes (saith Tacitus) to will contradictories ; 
 " Sunt plerumque regum voluntates vehemen- 
 tes, et inter se contrariae;" for it is the sole- 
 cism of power to think to command the end, 
 and yet not to endure the means. 
 
 Kings have to deal with their neighbours, 
 their wives, their children, their prelates or 
 clergy, their nobles, their second nobles or gen- 
 tlemen, their merchants, their commons, and 
 their men of war; and from all these arise 
 dangers, if care and circumspection be not 
 used. 
 
 First, for their neighbours, there can no gen- 
 eral rule be given, (the occasions are so vari- 
 able,) save one, which ever holdeth ; which is, 
 that princes do keep due sentinel, that none 
 of their neighbours do overgrow so (by in- 
 crease of territory, by embracing of trade, by 
 
76 OF EMPIRE. 
 
 approaches, or the like,) as they become more 
 able to annoy them than they were ; and this 
 is generally the work of standing counsels to 
 foresee and to hinder it. During that triumvi- 
 rate of kings, king Henry the Eighth, of Eng- 
 land, Francis the First, king of France, and 
 Charles the Fifth, emperor, there was such a 
 watch kept, that none of the three could win 
 a palm of ground, but the other two would, 
 straightways balance it, either by confedera- 
 tion, or, if need were, by war ; and would not 
 in any wise take up peace at interest : and the 
 like was done by that league (which Guicci- 
 ardine saith was the security of Italy) made 
 between Ferdinando, king of Naples, Foren- 
 zius Medices, and Ludovicus Sforsa, poten- 
 tates, the one of Florence, the other of Milan. 
 Neither is the opinion of some of the school- 
 men to be received, that a war cannot justly 
 be made but upon a precedent injury or provo- 
 cation ; for there is no question, but a just 
 fear of an imminent danger, though there be 
 no blow given, is a lawful cause of a war. 
 
 For their wives, there are cruel examples of 
 them. Livia is infamed for the poisoning of 
 her husband ; Roxalana, Soly man's wife, was 
 the destruction of that renowned prince, Sul- 
 tan Mustapha, and otherwise troubled his 
 house and succession ; Edward the Second of 
 England's queen had the principal hand in the 
 deposing and murder of her husband. This 
 kind of danger is then to be feared chiefly 
 when the wives have plots for the raising of 
 
OF EMPIRE. 77 
 
 their own children, or else that they be advou- 
 tresses. 
 
 For their children, the tragedies likewise of 
 dangers frcm them have been many ; and gen- 
 erally the entering of the fathers into suspicion 
 of their children hath been ever unfortunate. 
 The destruction of Mustapha (that we named 
 before) was so fatal to Soly man's line, as the 
 succession of the Turks from Solyman until 
 this day is suspected to be untrue, and of 
 strange blood ; for that Selymus the Second 
 was thought to be supposititious. The de- 
 struction of Crispus, a young prince of rare 
 towardness, by Constantinus the Great, his 
 father, was in like manner fatal to his house, 
 for both Constantinus and Constance, his sons, 
 died violent deaths ; and Constantius, his oth- 
 er son, did little better, who died indeed of 
 sickness, but after that Julianus had taken 
 arms against him. The destruction of Deme- 
 trius, son of Philip the Second of Macedon, 
 turned upon the father, who died of repent- 
 ance : and many like examples there are, but 
 few or none where the fathers had good by 
 such distrust, except it wer^ where the sons 
 were in open arms against them ; as was Sel 
 ymus the First against Eajazet, and the three 
 sons of Henry the Second, king of England. 
 
 For their prelates, when they are proud and 
 great, there is also danger fiom them ; as it 
 was in the times of Anselmus and Thomas 
 Beckett, archbishops of Canterbury, who with 
 their crosiers did almost try it with the king's 
 7* 
 
78 OF EMPIRE. 
 
 sword ; and yet they had to deal with stout 
 and haughty kings, William Rufus, Henry the 
 First, and Henry the Second. The danger is 
 not from that state, hut where it hath a depen- 
 dence of foreign authority ; or where the 
 churchmen come in and are elected, not by 
 the collation of the king, or particular patrons, 
 but by the people. 
 
 For their nobles, to keep them at a distance 
 it is not amiss ; but to depress them may 
 make a king more absolute, but less safe, and 
 less able to perform any thing that he desires. 
 I have noted it in my History of king Henry 
 the Seventh, of England, who depressed his 
 aobility, whereupon it came to pass that his 
 jmes were full of difficulties and troubles ; for 
 the nobility, though they continued loyal unto 
 him, yet did they not cooperate with him in 
 his business; so that in effect he was fain to 
 do all things himself. 
 
 For their second nobles, there is not much 
 danger from them, being a body dispersed : 
 they may sometimes discourse high, but that 
 doth little hurt; besides, they are a counter- 
 poise to the higher nobility, that they grew not 
 too potent ; and, lastly, being the most imme- 
 diate in authority with the common people, 
 they do best temper popular commotions. 
 
 For their merchants, they are " vena porta;" 
 and if they flourish not, a kingdom may have 
 good limbs, but will have empty veins, and 
 nourish little. Taxes and imposts upon them 
 Jo seldom good to tne king's revenue, for that 
 
OF COUNSEL. 79 
 
 which he wins in the hundred, he loseth in 
 the shire ; the particular rates being increased, 
 but the total bulk of trading rather decreased. 
 
 For their commons, there is little danger 
 from them, except it be where they have great 
 and potent heads ; or where you meddle with 
 the point of religion, or their customs, or 
 means of life. 
 
 For their men of war, it is a dangerous 
 state where they live and remain in a body, 
 and are used to donatives, whereof we see ex- 
 amples iit the janizaries, and pretorian bands 
 of Rome ; but trainings of men, and arming 
 of them in several places, and under several 
 commanders, and without donatives, are things 
 of defence and no danger. 
 
 Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which 
 cause good or evil times ; and which have 
 much veneration, but no rest. All piecepts 
 concerning kings are in effect comprehended 
 in those two remembrances, u memento quod 
 es homo ;" and " memento quod es Deus, ci 
 vice Dei;" the one bridleth their power, and 
 the other their will. 
 
 OF COUNSEL. 
 
 The greatest trust between man and man is 
 the trust of giving counsel ; for in other con- 
 fidences men commit the parts of life, their 
 lands, their goods, their children, their credit, 
 some particular affair; but to such as they 
 
80 OF COUNSEL. 
 
 make their counsellors they commit the whole 
 by how miich the more they are obliged to all 
 faith and integrity. The wisest princes need 
 not think it any diminution to their greatness, 
 or derogation to their sufficiency, to rely upon 
 counsel. God himself is not without, but 
 hath made it one of the great names of his 
 blessed Son, "The Counsellor." Solomon 
 hath pronounced, that " in counsel is stabil- 
 ity." Things will have their first or second 
 agitation : if they be not tossed upon the argu- 
 ments of counsel, they will be tosse^ upon the 
 waves of fortune, and be full of inconstancy, 
 doing and undoing, like the reeling of a drunk- 
 en man. Solomon's son found the force of 
 counsel, as his father saw the necessity of it : 
 for the beloved kingdom of God was first rent 
 and broken by ill counsel ; upon which coun- 
 sel there are set for our instruction the two 
 marks whereby bad counsel is for ever best 
 discerned, that it was young counsel for the 
 persons, and violent counsel for the matter. 
 
 The ancient times do set forth in figure both 
 the incorporation and inseparable conjunction 
 of counsel with kings, and the wise and poli- 
 tic use of counsel by kings : the one, in that 
 they say Jupiter did marry Metis, which sig- 
 nified! counsel : whereby they intend that 
 sovereignty is married to counsel : the othei 
 in that which followeth, which was thus : they 
 say, after Jupiter was married to Metis, she 
 conceived by him and was with child, but Ju- 
 piter suffered her not to stay till she brought 
 
OF COUNSEL. 81 
 
 forth, but eat her no ; whereby he became 
 himself with child, and was delivered of Pal- 
 las armed out of his head. Which monstrous 
 fable containeth a secret of empire, how kings 
 are to make use of their council of state : that 
 first, they ought to refer matters unto them, 
 which is the first begetting of impregnation : 
 but when they are elaborate, moulded, and 
 shaped in the womb of their council, and 
 grow ripe and ready to be brought forth, that 
 then they suffer not their council to go througli 
 with the resolution and direction, as if it de- 
 pended on them ; but take the matter back 
 into their own hands, and make it appear to 
 the world, that the decrees and final directions 
 (which, because they come forth with pru- 
 dence and power, are resembled to Pallas 
 armed) proceeded from themselves ; and not 
 only from their authority, but (the more to add 
 reputation to themselves ^ from their head 
 and device. 
 
 Let us now speak of the inconveniences of 
 counsel, and of the remedies. The inconve- 
 niences that have been noted in calling and 
 using counsel, are three : first, the revealing 
 of affairs, whereby they become less secret ; 
 secondly, the weakening of the authority of 
 princes, as if they were less of themselves ; 
 thirdly, the danger of being unfaithfully coun- 
 selled, and more for the good of them that 
 counsel than of him that is counselled ; for 
 which inconveniences, the doctrine of Italy, and 
 praf tice of France in some kings' times, hath 
 
82 OF COUNSEL. 
 
 introduced cabinet councils ; a remedy wore 
 than the disease. 
 
 As to secrecy, princes are not bound to 
 communicate all matters with all counsellors, 
 but may extract and select ; neither is it ne- 
 cessary, that he that consulteth what he should 
 do should declare what he will do; but let 
 princes beware that the unsecreting of their 
 affairs comes not from themselves : and, as for 
 cabinet councils, it may be their motto, " ple- 
 nus rimarum sum :" one futile person, that 
 maketh it his glory to tell, will do more hurt 
 than many that know it their duty to conceal. 
 It is true there be some affairs which require 
 extreme secrecy, which will hardly go beyond 
 one or two persons beside the king : neither 
 are those counsels unprosperous ; fbr, besides 
 the secrecy, they commonly go on constantly 
 in one spirit of direction without distraction : 
 but then it must be a prudent king, such as is 
 able to grind with a hand-mill ; and those in- 
 ward counsellors had need also be wise men, 
 and especially true and trusty to the king's 
 ends ; as it was with king Henry the Seventh 
 of England, who in his greatest business im- 
 parted himself to none, except it were to Mor- 
 ton and Fox. 
 
 For weakness of authority the fable show- 
 eth the remedy : nay, the majesty of kings is 
 rather exalted than diminished when they are 
 in the chair of council : neither was there ev- 
 er prince bereaved of his dependencies by his 
 council except where there hath been either 
 
OF COUNSEL. 83 
 
 an overgreatness in one counsellor, or an over- 
 strict combination in divers, which are things 
 soon found and holpen. 
 
 For the last inconvenience, that men will 
 counsel with an eye to themselves ; certainly, 
 " non inveniet fidem super terrain," is meant 
 of the nature of times, and not of all particu- 
 lar persons. There be that are in nature faith- 
 ful and sincere, and plain and direct, not crafty 
 and involved : let ponces, above all, draw to 
 themselves such natures. Besides, counsel- 
 lors are not commonly so united, but that one 
 counsellor keepeth sentinel over another ; so 
 that if any counsel out of faction or private 
 ends, it commonly comes to the king's ear :" 
 but the best remedy is, if princes know their 
 counsellors, as well as their counsellors know 
 them, 
 
 " Principis est virtus maxima nosse suoe." 
 
 And, on the other side, counsellors should not 
 be too speculative into their sovereign's per- 
 son. The true composition of a counsellor is, 
 rather to be skilful in his master's business 
 than in his nature ; for then he is like to ad- 
 vise him, and not to feed his humour. It is 
 of singular use to' princes if they take the 
 opinions of their council" both separately and 
 together ; for private opinion, is more free, but 
 opinion before others is more reverend. In 
 private, men are more bold in their own hu- 
 mours ; and in consort, men are more obnox- 
 ious to others' humours ; therefore it is good to 
 
*\ OP COUNSEL. 
 
 take both, and of the inferior sort rather in 
 private, to preserve freedom ; of the greater, 
 rather in consort, to preserve respect. It is in 
 vain for princes to take counsel concerning 
 matters, if they take no counsel likewise con- 
 cerning persons ; for all matters are as dead 
 images; and the life of the execution of af- 
 fairs resteth in the good choice of persons : 
 neither is it enough to consult concerning 
 persons, u secundum genera," as in an idea of 
 mathematical description, what the kind and 
 character of the person should be ; for the 
 greatest errors are committed, and the most 
 judgment is shown, in the choice of individu- 
 als. It was truly said, " optimi consiliarii 
 mortui : v " books will speak plain when coun- 
 sellors blanch ;" therefore it is good to be con- 
 versant in them, especially the books of such 
 as themselves have been actors upon the 
 stage. 
 
 The councils at this day in most places are 
 but familiar meetings, where matters are rath- 
 er talked on than debated ; and they run too 
 swift to the order or act of council. It were 
 better that in causes of weight the matter 
 were propounded one day, and not spoken to 
 till next day; "in nocte consilium :" so was 
 it done in the commission of union between 
 England and Scotland, which was a grave and 
 orderly assembly. I commend set days for 
 petitions; for both it gives the suitors more 
 certainty for their attendance, and it frees 
 the meetings for matters of estate, that 4- 
 
OF COUNSEL. S# 
 
 may " hoc agere." In choice of committees 
 for ripening business for the council, it is bet- 
 ter to choose indifferent persons than to make 
 an indifferency by putting in those that are 
 strong on both sides. I commend, also, stand- 
 ing commissions ; as for trade, for treasure, for 
 war, for suits, for some provinces ; for where 
 there be divers particular councils, and but one 
 council of estate, (as it is in Spain,) they are, 
 in effect, no more than standing commissions, 
 save that they have greater authority. Let 
 such as are to inform councils out of their par- 
 ticular professions, (as lawyers, seamen, mint- 
 men, and the like,) be first heard before com- 
 mittees ; and then, as occasion serves, before 
 the council ; and let them not come in multi- 
 tudes, or in a tribunitious manner ; for that is 
 to clamour councils, not to inform them. A 
 long table and a square table, or seats about 
 the walls, seem things of form, but are things 
 of substance ; for at a long table, a few at the 
 upper end, in effect, sway all the business ; 
 but in the other form there is more use of the 
 counsellors' opinions that sit lower. A king, 
 when he presides in council, let him beware 
 how he opens his own inclination too much in 
 that which he propoundeth ; for else coun- 
 sellors will but take the wind of him, and, in- 
 stead of giving free counsel, will sing him a 
 song of " placebo." 
 8 
 
66 OF DELAYS. 
 
 OF DELAYS. 
 
 Fortune is like the market, where, many 
 times, if you can stay a little, the price will 
 fall; and, again, it is sometimes like Sibylla's 
 offer, which at first offeieth the commodity at 
 full, then consumeth part and part, and. still 
 holdeth up the price ; for occasion (as it is in 
 the common verse) turneth a bald noddle after 
 she hath presented her locks in front, and no 
 hold taken ; or, at least, turneth the handle of 
 the bottle first to be received, and after the 
 belly, which is hard to clasp. There is sure- 
 ly no greater wisdom than well to time the 
 beginnings and onsets of things. Dangers 
 are no more light, if they once seem light ; 
 and more dangers have deceived men than 
 forced them : nay, it were better to meet some 
 dangers half way, though they come nothing 
 near, than to keep too long a watch upon their 
 approaches ; for if a man watch too long, it is 
 odds he will fall asleep. On the other side, 
 to be deceived with too long shadows, (as some 
 have been when the moon was low, and shone 
 on their enemies' back,) and so to shoot off 
 before the time ; or to teach dangers to come 
 on by over-early buckling towards them, is an- 
 other extreme. The ripeness or unripeness of 
 the occasion (as we said) must ever be well 
 weighed ; and generally it is good to commit 
 the beginnings of all great actions to Argos 
 with his hundred eyes, and the ends to Bria- 
 
OF CUNNING. 87 
 
 reus with his hundred hands ; first to watch, 
 and then to speed ; for the helmet of Pluto, 
 -vhich maketh the politic man go invisible, is 
 secrecy in the council, and celerity in the exe- 
 cution ; for when things are once come to the 
 execution, there is no secrecy comoarable to 
 celerity; like the motion of a bullet in the 
 air, which fiieth so swift as it outruns the eye. 
 
 OF CUNNING. 
 
 Wk take cunning for a sinister or crooktd 
 wisdom ; and certainly there is a great difference 
 between a cunning man and a wise man, not 
 only in point of honesty, but in point of abil- 
 ity. There be that can pack the cards, and 
 yet cannot play well ; so there are some that 
 are good in canvasses and factions, that are 
 otherwise weak men. Again, it is one thing 
 to understand persons, and another thing to 
 understand matters ; for many are perfect in 
 men's humours, that are not greatly capable of 
 the real part of business, which is the consti- 
 tution of one that hath studied men more than 
 books. Such men are fitter for practice than 
 for counsel, and they are good but in their own 
 alley : turn them to new men, and they have 
 lost their aim : so as the old rule, to know a 
 fool from a wise man, " Mitte ambos nudos ad 
 ignotos, et videbis," doth scarce hold for them; 
 am 1 , because these cunning men are like hab- 
 
88 OP CUNNING. 
 
 erdashers of small wares, it is not amiss to set 
 forth their shop. 
 
 It is a point of cunning to wait upon him 
 with whom you speak with your eye, as the 
 Jesuits give it in precept ; for there be many 
 wise men that have secret hearts and transpa- 
 rent countenances: yet this would be done 
 with a demure abasing of your eye sometimes, 
 as the Jesuits also do use. 
 
 Another is, that when you have any thing 
 to obtain of present despatch, you entertain 
 and amuse the party with whom you deal with 
 some other discourse, that he be not too much 
 awake to make objections. I knew a coun- 
 sellor and secretary, that never came to queen 
 Elizabeth of England with bills to sign, but 
 he would always first put her into some dis- 
 course of state, that she might the less mind 
 the bills. 
 
 The like surprise may be made by moving 
 things when the party is in haste, and cannot 
 stay to consider advisedly of that is moved. 
 
 If a man would cross a business that he 
 doubts some other would handsomely and ef- 
 fectually move, let him pretend to wish it 
 well, and move it himself, in such sort as may 
 soil it. 
 
 The breaking o3f in the midst of that one 
 was about to say, as if he took himself up, 
 breeds a greater appetite in him, with whom 
 you confer, to know more. 
 
 And because it works better when any thing 
 seemeth to be gotten from you by question, 
 
OF CUNNING. 89 
 
 than if you offer it of yourself, you may lay a 
 bait for a question, by showing anotner visage 
 and countenance than you are wont; to the 
 end, to give occasion for the party to ask what 
 the matter is of the change, as Nehemiah did, 
 " And I had not before that time been sad be- 
 fore the king." 
 
 In things that are tender and unpleasing, it 
 is good to break the ice by some whose words 
 are of less weight, and to reserve the more 
 weighty voice to come in as by chance, so 
 that he may be asked the question upon the 
 other's speech; as Narcissus did, in relating 
 to Claudius the marriage of Messalina and 
 Silius. 
 
 In things that a man would not be seen in 
 himself, it is a point of cunning to borrow 
 the name of the world ; as to say, " The 
 world says," or, " There is a speech abroad." 
 
 I knew one that, when he wrote a letter, 
 he would put that which was most material 
 in the postscript, as if it had been a by mat- 
 ter. 
 
 I knew another that, when he came to have 
 speech, he would pass over that that he in- 
 tended most; and go forth and come back 
 again, and speak of it as a thing he had al- 
 most forgot. 
 
 Some procure themselves to be surprised at 
 such times as it is like the party that they 
 work upon will suddenly come upon them, 
 and be found with a letter in their hand, or 
 doing somewhat which they are not accustom- 
 8 * 
 
90 OF CUNNING. 
 
 ed, to the end they may be opposed of those 
 things which of themselves they are desirous 
 to utter. 
 
 It is a point of cunning, to let fall those 
 words in a man's own name, which he would 
 have another man learn and use, and there- 
 upon take advantage. I knew two that were 
 competitors for the secretary's place, in queen 
 Elizabeth's time, and yet kept good quarter 
 between themselves, and would confer one 
 with another upon the business ; and the one 
 of them said, that to be a secretary in the de- 
 clination of a monarchy was a ticklish thing, 
 and that he did not affect it ; the other straight 
 caught up those words, and discoursed with 
 divers of his friends, that he had no reason to 
 desire to be secretary in the declining of a mon- 
 archy. The first man took hold of it, and 
 found means it was told the queen ; who, 
 hearing of a declination of monarchy, took it 
 so ill, as she would never after hear of the 
 other's suit. 
 
 There is a cunning, which we in England 
 call "The turning of the cat in the pan;" 
 which is, when that which a man says to an- 
 other, he lays it as if another had said it 
 to him ; and, to say truth, it is not easy when 
 such a matter passed between two, to make it 
 appear from which of them it first moved and 
 began. 
 
 It is a way that some men have, to glance 
 and dart at others by justifying themselves by 
 negatives; as to say, "This I do not;" as 
 
OF CUNNING. 91 
 
 Tigellinus did towards Burrhus, " se non di- 
 versas spes, sed incolumitatem imperatoris 
 simpliciter spectare." 
 
 Some have in readiness so many tales and 
 stories, as there is nothing they would insinuate, 
 but they can wrap it into a tale ; which serv- 
 eth both to keep themselves more on guard, 
 and to make others carry it with more pleas- 
 ure. 
 
 It is a good point of cunning for a man to 
 shape the answer he would have in his own 
 words and propositions ; for it makes the other 
 party stick the less. 
 
 It is strange how long; some men will lie in 
 wait to speak somewhat they desire to say ; 
 and how far about they will fetch, and how 
 many other matters they will beat over, to come 
 near it : it is a thing of great patience, but yet 
 of much use. 
 
 A sudden, bold, and unexpected question 
 doth many times surprise a man, and lay him 
 open. Like to him, that, having changed his 
 name, and walking in Paul's, another sud- 
 denly came behind him, and called him by his 
 true name, whereat straightways he looked 
 back. 
 
 But these small wares and petty points of 
 cunning are infinite, and it were a good deed 
 to make a list of them ; for that nothing doth 
 more hurt in a state than that cunning men 
 pass for wise. 
 
 But certainly some there are that know the 
 resorts and falls of business, that cannot sink 
 
92 OP WISDOM FOR A MAN'S SELF. 
 
 into the main of it ; like a house that hath 
 convenient stairs and entries, but never a fail 
 room : therefore you shall see them find out 
 pretty looses in the conclusion, but are no 
 ways able to examine or debate matters ; and 
 yet commonly they take advantage of their in- 
 ability, and would be thought wits of direc- 
 tion. Some build rather upon the abusing of 
 others, and (as we now say) putting tricks 
 upon them, than upon the soundness of their 
 own proceedings : but Solomon saith, " Pru- 
 dens ddvertit ad gressus suos : stultus divertit 
 ad dolos." 
 
 OF WISDOM FOR A MAN'S SELF. 
 
 An ant is a wise creature for itself, but it is 
 a shrewd thing in an orchard or garden ; and 
 certainly men that are great lovers of them- 
 selves waste the public. Divide with reason 
 between self-love and society ; and be so true 
 to thyself, as thou be not false to others, espe- 
 cially to thy king and country. It is a poor 
 centre of a man's actions, himself. It is right 
 earth ; for that only stands fast upon his own 
 centre ; whereas, all things that have affinity 
 with the heavens meve upon the centre of an- 
 other, which they benefit. The referring of 
 all to a man's self is more tolerable in a sove- 
 reign prince, because themselves are not only 
 themselves, but their good and evil is at the 
 peril of the public fortune : but it is a despe- 
 
OF WISDOM FOR A MAN'S SELF. 93 
 
 rate evil in a servant to a prince, or a citizen 
 in a republic ; for whatsoever affairs pass such 
 a man's hands, he crooketh them to his own 
 ends ; which must needs be often eccentric tG 
 the ends of his master or state : therefore let 
 princes or states choose such servants as have 
 not this mark ; except they mean their service 
 should be made but the accessary. That 
 which maketh the effect more pernicious is, 
 that all proportion is lest ; it were dispropor- 
 tion enough for the servant's good to be pre- 
 ferred before the master's; but yet it is a 
 greater extreme, when a little good of the 
 servant shall carry things against the great 
 good of the master's : and yet that is the case 
 of bad officers, treasurers, ambassadors, gener- 
 als, and other false and corrupt servants ; which 
 set a bias upon their bowl, of their own petty 
 ends and envies, to the overthrow of their 
 master's great and important affairs : and, for 
 the most part, the good such servants receive 
 is after the model of their own fortune ; but 
 the hurt they sell for that good is after the 
 model of their master's fortune : and certainly 
 it is the nature of extreme self-lovers, as they 
 will set a house on fire, and it were but to 
 roast their eggs ; and yet these men many 
 times hold credit with their masters, because 
 their study is but to please them and profit 
 themselves; and for either respect they will 
 abandon the good of their affairs. 
 
 Wisdom for a man's self is, in many bran- 
 ches thereof a depraved thing : it is die wis- 
 
94 OF INNOVATIONS. 
 
 doni ot rats, that will be sure to leave a house 
 sometime before it fall : it is the wisdom of 
 the fox, that thrusts out the badger who dig- 
 ged and made room for him : it is the wis- 
 dom of crocodiles, that shed tears when they 
 would devour. But that which is specially to 
 be noted is, that those which (as Cicero says 
 of Pompey) are " sui amante, sine rivali,^ 
 are many times unfortunate ; and whereas they 
 have all their time sacrificed to themselves, 
 they become in the end themselves sacrifices 
 to the inconstancy of fortune, whose wings they 
 thought by their self-wisdom to have pinioned. 
 
 OF INNOVATIONS. 
 
 As the births of living creatures at first are 
 ill shapen, so are all innovations, which are 
 the births of time; yet notwithstanding, as 
 those that lirst bring honour into their family 
 are commonly more worthy than most that 
 succeed, so the first precedent (if it be good) 
 is seldom attained by imitation ; for ill to man's 
 nature, as it stands perverted, hath a natural 
 motion strongest in continuance ; but good, as 
 a forced motion, strongest at first. Surely ev- 
 ery medicine is an innovation, and he that will 
 not apply new remedies must expect new 
 evils; for time is the greatest innovator; and 
 if time of course alter things to the worse, and 
 wisdom and counsel shall not alter them to the 
 better, what shall be the end ? It is true, that 
 
OF INNOVATIONS. 95 
 
 what is settled by custom, though it be not 
 good, yet at least it is fit; and those things 
 which have long gone together are, as it were, 
 confederate within themselves ; whereas new 
 things piece not so well ; but, though they 
 help by their utility, yet they trouble by their 
 inconformity : besides, they are like strangers, 
 more admired, and less favoured. All this is 
 true, if time stood still ; which, contrariwise 
 moveth so round, that a froward retention oi 
 custom is as turbulent a thing as an innova- 
 tion ; and they that reverence too much old 
 times are but a scorn to the new. It- were 
 good, therefore, that men, in their innovations, 
 would follow the example of time itself, which 
 indeed innovateth greatly, but quietly, and by 
 degrees scarce to be perceived ; for otherwise, 
 whatsoever is new is unlooked for; and ever 
 it mends some, and pairs others ; and he that 
 is holpen takes it for a fortune, and thanks the 
 tinie ; and he that is hurt, for a wrong, and 
 imputeth it to the author. It is good also not 
 to try experiments in states, except the neces- 
 sity be urgent, or the utility evident ; and well 
 to beware that it be the reformation that draw- 
 eth on the change, and not the desire of 
 change that pretendeth the reformation : and, 
 lastly, that the novelty, though it be not re- 
 jected, yet be held for a suspect ; and, as the 
 scripture saith, u That we make a stand upon 
 the ancient way, and then look about us, and 
 discover what is the straight and right way, 
 nri 1 ] so to walV in it.* 1 
 
96 OF DESPATCH. 
 
 OF DESPATCH. 
 
 Affected despatch is one of the most dan- 
 gerous things to business that can be : it is 
 like that which the physicians call prediges- 
 tion, or hasty digestion ; which is sure to fill 
 the body full of crudities, and secret seeds of 
 diseases : therefore measure not despatch by 
 the time of sitting, but by the advancement of 
 the business : and as, in races, it is not the large 
 stride, or high lift, that makes the speed ; so, 
 in business, the keeping close to the matter, 
 and not taking of it too much at once, procur- 
 eth despatch. It is the care of some only to 
 come off speedily for the time, or to contrive 
 some false periods of business, because they 
 may seem men of despatch : but it is one 
 thing to abbreviate by contracting, another by 
 cutting off; and business so handled at several 
 sittings, or meetings, goeth commonly back- 
 ward and forward in an unsteady manner. I 
 knew a wise man, that had it for a by-word, 
 when he saw men hasten to a conclusion, 
 " Stay a little, that we may make an end the 
 sooner." 
 
 On the other side, true despatch is a rich 
 thing ; for time is the measure of businesses 
 money is of wares ; and business is bought at 
 a dear hand where there is small despatch. 
 The Spartans and Spaniards have been noted 
 to fee of small despatch : " Mi venga la muerte 
 de Spagna ;" — " Let my death come from 
 
OP DESPATCH. 97 
 
 Spain," for then it will be sure to be long in 
 coming. 
 
 Give good hearing to those that give the 
 first information in business, and rather direct 
 them in the beginning than interrupt them in 
 tbe continuance of their speeches ; for he that 
 is put out of his own order will go forward 
 and backward, and be more tedious while he 
 waits upon his memory, than he could have 
 been if he had gone on in his own course ; 
 but sometimes it is seen that the moderator is 
 more troublesome than the actor. 
 
 Iterations are commonly loss of time ; but 
 there is no such gain of time as to iterate of- 
 ten the state of the question ; for it chaseth 
 away many a frivolous speech as it is coming 
 forth. Long and curious speeches are as fit 
 for despatch as a robe, or mantle, with a long 
 train, is for a race. Prefaces, and passages, 
 and excusations, and other speeches of refer- 
 ence to the person, are great wastes of time ; 
 and, though they seem to proceed of modesty, 
 they are bravery. Yet beware of being too 
 material when there is any impediment, or ob- 
 struction, in men's wills ; for pre-occupation 
 of mind ever requireth preface of speech, like 
 a fomentation to make the unguent enter. 
 
 Above all things, order and distribution, and 
 singling out of parts, is the life of despatch ; 
 so as the distribution be not too subtile : for 
 he that doth not divide will never enter well 
 into business ; and he that divideth too much 
 will never come out of it clearly. To ^hoost 
 Q 
 
98 OP SEEMING WISE. 
 
 time is to save time ; and an unseasonable mo- 
 tion is but beating the ah. There be three 
 parts of business ; the preparation ; the debate 
 or examination ; and the perfection ; whereof, 
 if you look for despatch, let the middle only 
 be the work of many, and the first and last 
 the work of few. The proceeding upon some- 
 what conceived in writing doth, for the most 
 part, facilitate despatch : for though it should 
 be wholly rejected, yet that negative is more 
 pregnant of direction than an indefinite, as 
 ashes are more generative than dust. 
 
 OF SEEMING WISE. 
 
 It hath been an opinion, that the French 
 are wiser than they seem, and the Spaniards 
 seem wiser than they are : but, howsoever it 
 be between nations, certainly it is so between 
 man and man ; for, as the apostle saith of god- 
 liness, " having a show of godliness, but de- 
 nying the power thereof;" so certainly there 
 are in points of wisdom and sufficiency, that 
 do nothing or little very solemnly : " magno 
 conatu nugas." It is a ridiculous thing, and 
 fit for a satire to persons of judgment, to see 
 what shifts these formalists have, and what 
 prospectives to make superfices to seem body 
 that hath depth and bulk. Some are so close 
 and reserved, as they will not show their 
 wares but by a dark light, and seem always to 
 
OF SEEMING WISE. 99 
 
 keep back somewhat ; and, when they know 
 within themselves they speak of that they do 
 not well know, would nevertheless seem to oth- 
 ers to know of that which they may not well 
 speak. Some help themselves with counte- 
 nance and gesture, and are wise by signs ; as 
 Cicero saith of Piso, that when he answered 
 him he fetched one of his brows up to his fore- 
 head, and bent the other down to his chin ; 
 " respondes, altero ad fruntem sublato, altero ad 
 mentum depresso supercilio, crudelitatem tibi 
 non placere." Some think to bear it by speak- 
 ing a great; word, and being peremptory ; and go 
 on, and take by admittance that which they 
 cannot make good. Some, whatsoever is be- 
 yond their reach, will seem to despise, or make 
 light of it, as impertinent or curious : and so 
 would have their ignorance seem judgment. 
 Some are never without a difference, and com- 
 monly, by amusing men with a subtilty, blanch 
 the matter ; of whom A. Gellius saith, " ho- 
 minem delirium, qui verborum, minutirs rerum 
 frangit pondera." Of which kind also Plato, 
 in his Protagoras, bringeth in Prodicus in 
 scorn, and maketh him make a speech that 
 consisteth of distinctions from the beginning 
 to the end. Generally such men, in all delib- 
 erations, find ease to be of the negative side, 
 and affect a credit to object and foretell difficul- 
 ties ; for when propositions are denied, there 
 is an end of them ; but if they be allowed, it 
 requireth a new work ; which false point of 
 wisdom is the bane of business. To conclude, 
 
100 OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 there is no decaying merchant, or inward beg- 
 gar, hath so many tricks to uphold the Gredit 
 of their wealth, as these empty persons have 
 to maintain the credit of their sufficiency. 
 Seeming wise men may make shift to get 
 opinion ; but let no man choose them for em- 
 ployment ; for, certainly, you were better take 
 for business a man somewhat surd than over- 
 formal. 
 
 OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 It had been hard for him that spake it to 
 have put more truth and untruth together in 
 few words than in that speech, " Whosoever 
 is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast 
 or a god:" for it is most true, that a natural 
 and secret hatred and aversion towards society 
 in any man hath somewhat of the savage 
 beast; but it is most untrue, that it should 
 have any character at all of the divine nature, 
 except it proceed, not out of a pleasure in sol- 
 itude, but out of a love and desire to sequester 
 a man's self for a higher conversation : such 
 as is found to have been falsely and feignedly 
 in some of the heathens ; as Epimenides, the 
 Candian ; Numa, the Roman ; Empedocles, 
 the Sicilian ; and Apollonius of Tyana ; and 
 truly and really in divers of the ancient her- 
 mits and holy fathers of the church. But lit- 
 tle do men perceive what solitude is, and how 
 far it extendeth ; for a crowd is not company, 
 
OP FRIENDSHIP. 101 
 
 and faces are but a gallery of pictures, and 
 talk but a tinkling cymbal where there is no 
 love. The Latin adage meeteth with it a 
 little; " magna civitas, magna solitudo;" be- 
 cause in a great town friends are scattered, so 
 that there is not that fellowship, for the most 
 part, which is in less neighbourhoods : but we 
 may go farther, and affirm most truly, that it is 
 a mere and miserable solitude to want true 
 friends, without which the world is but a wil- 
 derness ; and even in this scene also of soli- 
 tude, whosoever in the frame of his nature and 
 affections is unfit for friendship, he taketh it 
 of the beast, and not from humanity. 
 
 A principal fruit of friendship is the ease 
 and discharge of the fulness of the heart, 
 which passions of all kinds do cause and in- 
 duce. We know diseases of stoppings and 
 suffocations are the most dangerous in the 
 body ; and it is not much otherwise ia the 
 mind , you may take sarza to open the liver,' 
 steel to open the spleen, flower of sulphur for 
 the lungs, castoreum for the brain ; but no re- 
 ceipt openeth the heart but a true friend, to 
 whom you may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, 
 suspicion^ ;ounsels, and whatsoever lieth upon 
 the heart to oppress it, in a kind of civil shrift 
 or confession. 
 
 It is a strange thing to observe how high a 
 rate g?eat kings and monarchs do set upon 
 this fruit of friendship whereof we speak': so 
 great, as they purchase it many times at the 
 hazard of their own safety and greatness : for 
 
102 OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 princes, in regard of the distance of their for- 
 tune from that of their subjects and servants, 
 cannot gather this fruit except (to make them- 
 selves capable thereof) they raise some per- 
 sons to be as it were companions, and almost 
 equals to themselves, which many times sort- 
 eth to inconvenience. The modern languages 
 give unto such persons the name of favourites, 
 or privadoes, as if it were matter of grace, or 
 conversation; but the Roman name attaineth 
 the true use and cause thereof, naming them 
 " participes curarum ;" for it is that which 
 tieth the knot : and we see plainly that this 
 hath been done, not by weak and passionate 
 princes only, but by the wisest and most poli- 
 tic that ever reigned, who have oftentimes 
 joined to themselves some of their servants, 
 whom both themselves have called friends, 
 and allowed others likewise to call them in the 
 same«nanner, using the word which is receiv- 
 ed between private men. 
 
 L. Sylla, when he commanded Rome, raised 
 Pompey (after surnamed the Great) to that 
 height, that Pompey vaunted himself for Syl- 
 la's overmatch ; for, when he had carried the 
 consulship for a friend of his, against the pur- 
 suit of Sylla, and that Sylla did a little resent 
 thereat, and began to speak great, Pompey 
 turned upon him again, and in effect bade him 
 be quiet ; for that more men adored the sun 
 rising than the sun setting. With Julius Cae- 
 sar, Decimus Brutus had obtained that interest, 
 ac he set him down in his testament for heir 
 
OF FRIENDSHIP 103 
 
 in remainder after his nephew; and this 
 was the man that had power with him to 
 draw him forth to his death : for when Cae- 
 sar would have discharged the senate, in 
 regard of some ill presages, and specially 
 a dream of Calpurnia, this man lifted him 
 gently by the arm out of his chair, telling him 
 he hoped he would not dismiss tho senate tiJl 
 his wife had dreamed a better dream ; and it 
 seemed his favour was so great as Anto^ius, in 
 a letter which is recited verbatim in one of 
 Cicero's Philippics, called him " venefica," — 
 " witch ; M as if he had enchanted Caesar. 
 Augustus raised Agrippa (though of mean 
 birth) to that height, as, when he consulted 
 with Maecenas about the marriage of his 
 daughter Julia, Maecenas took the liberty to 
 tell him, that he must either marry his daugh- 
 ter to x\grippa, or take away his life : there 
 was no third way, he had made him so great. 
 With Tiberius Caesar, Sejanus had ascended to 
 that height, as they two were termed and reck- 
 oned as a pair of friends. Tiberius, in a let- 
 ter to him, saith, u haec pro amicitia nostra non 
 occultavi;" and the whole senate dedicated 
 an altar to Friendship, as to a goddess, in re- 
 spect of the great dearness of friendship be- 
 tween them two. The like, or more, was be- 
 tween Septimius Severus and Plautianus ; for 
 he forced his eldest son to marry the daughter 
 of Plautianus, and would often maintain Plau- 
 tianus in doing affronts to his son : and did 
 write, also, in a letter to the senate, by these 
 
104 OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 words : " I love the man so well as I wish 
 he may overlive me." Now, if these princes 
 had been as a Trajan, or a Marcus Aurelius, a 
 man might have thought that this had proceed- 
 ed of an abundant goodness of nature ; but 
 being men so wise, of such strength and se- 
 verity of mind, and so extreme lovers of them- 
 selves, as all these were, it proveth, most 
 plainly, that they found their ow:. felicity 
 (though as great as ever happened to mortal 
 men) but as an halfpiece, except they might 
 have a friend to make it entire ; and yet, 
 which is more, they were princes that had 
 wives, sons, nephews : yet all these could not 
 supply the comfort of friendship. 
 
 It is not to be forgotten what Comineus ob- 
 serveth of his first master, Duke Charles the 
 Hardy, namely, that he would communicate 
 his secrets with none ; and, least of all, those 
 secrets which troubled him most. Whereupon 
 he goeth on, and saith, that, towards his latter 
 time, that closeness did impair and a little 
 perish his understanding. Surely Comineus 
 might have made the same judgment also, it 
 it had pleased him, of his second master, 
 Lewis the Eleventh^ whose closeness was in- 
 deed his tormentor. The parable of Pythag- 
 oras is dark, but true, "cor ne edito," — 
 " eat not the heart." Certainly, if a man 
 would give it a hard phrase, those that want 
 friends to open themselves unto are cannibals 
 of their cwn hearts ; but one thing is most 
 admirable, (wherewith I will conclude this 
 
OF FRIENDSHIP. 105 
 
 first fruit of friendship,) which is, that this 
 communicating of a man's self to his friend 
 works to contrary effects, for it redoubleth 
 joys and cutteth griefs in halves ; for there is 
 no man that imparteth his joys to his friend, 
 but he joyeth the more ; and no man that im- 
 parteth his griefs to his friend, but he grieve th 
 the less. So that it is, in truth, of operation 
 upon a man's mind, of like virtue as the al- 
 chymists use to attribute to their stone for 
 man's body, that it worketh all contrary effects, 
 bat still to the good and benefit of nature : 
 but yet, without praying in aid of alchymists, 
 there is a manifest image of this in the ordi- 
 nary course of nature ; for, in bodies, union 
 strengtheneth and cherisheth any natural ac- 
 tion ; and, on the other side, weakeneth and 
 dulleth any violent impression ; and even so is 
 it of minds. 
 
 The second fruit of friendship is healthful 
 and sovereign fcr the understanding, as the 
 first is for the affections ; for friendship maketh 
 indeed a fair day in the affections from st^rm 
 and tempests, but it maketh daylight in the 
 understanding, out of darkness and confusion 
 of thoughts : neither is this to be understood 
 only of faithful counsel, which a man receiveth 
 from his friend ; but before you come to that, 
 certain it is, that whosoever hath his mind 
 fraught with many thoughts, his wits and un- 
 derstanding do clarify and break up, in the 
 communicating and discoursing with another; 
 he tosseth his thoughts more easily ; he mar- 
 
106 OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 shalleth them more orderly ; he seeth how 
 they look when they are turned into words ; 
 finally, he waxeth wiser than himself; and 
 that more by an hour's discourse than by a 
 day's meditation. It was well said by The- 
 mistocles to the king of Persia, " that speech 
 was like cloth of Arras, opened and put 
 abroad :" whereby the imagery doth appear in 
 figure j whereas in thoughts they lie but as in 
 packs. Neither is this second fruit of friend- 
 ship, in opening the understanding, restrained 
 only to such friends as are able to give a man 
 counsel, (they indeed are best,) but even 
 without that a man learneth of himself, and 
 bringeth his own thoughts to light, and whet- 
 teth his wits as against a stone, which itself 
 cuts not. In a word, a man were better relate 
 himself to a statue or picture than to suffer his 
 thoughts to pass in smother. 
 
 Add, now, to make this second fruit of 
 friendship complete, that other point which 
 lieth more open, and falleth within vulgar 
 observation : which is faithful counsel from a 
 friend. Heraclitus saith well in one of his 
 enigmas, "Dry light is ever the best," and 
 certain it is, that the light that a man receiveth 
 by counsel from another is drier and purer 
 than that which cometh from his own under- 
 standing and judgment ; which is ever infused 
 and drenched in his affections and customs. 
 So as there is as much difference between the 
 counsel that a friend giveth, and that a man 
 giveth himself, as there is between the coun- 
 
OF FRIENDSHIP. 107 
 
 sel of a friend and of a flatterer; lor there is 
 no such flatterer as is a man's self, and there 
 is no such remedy against flattery or a man's 
 self as the liberty of a friend. Counsel is of 
 two sorts ; the one concerning manners, the 
 other concerning business; for the first the 
 best preservative to keep the mind in health 
 is the faithful admonition of a friend. The 
 calling of a man's self to a strict account is a 
 medicine sometimes too piercing and corro- 
 sive ; reading good books of morality is a 
 little _ q ^t and dead ; observing our faults in 
 others is sometimes improper for our case ; 
 but Jie best receipt (best I say to work and 
 best to take) is the admonition of a friend. 
 It is a strange thing to behold what gross er- 
 rors and extreme absurdities many ^ especially 
 of the greater sort) do commit for want of 
 a friend to tell them of them, to the great 
 damage both of their fame and fortune : for, 
 as St. James saith, they are as men " that look 
 sometimes into a glass, and presently forgot 
 their own shape and favour ;" as for business, 
 a man may think, if he will, that two eyes see 
 no more than one ; or, that a gamester seeth 
 always more than a looker-on ; or, that a man 
 in anger is as wise as he that hath said over 
 the four-and-twenty letters ; or, that a musket 
 may be shot off* as well upon the arm as upon 
 a rest ; and such other fond and high imagi- 
 nations, to think himself all in all ■ but. when 
 all Is done, the help of good counsel is that 
 which settleth busiuess straight; and if any 
 
108 OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 man think that he will take counsel, but it 
 shall be by pieces ; asking counsel in one bu- 
 siness of one man, and in another business of 
 another man ; it is as well, (that is to say, bet- 
 ter, perhaps, than if he asked none at all,) but 
 he runneth two dangers ; one, that he shall 
 not be faithfully counselled ; for it is a rare 
 thing, except it be from a perfect and entire 
 friend, to have counsel given, but such as shall 
 be bowed and crooked to some ends which he 
 hath that giveth it: the other, that he shall 
 have counsel given, hurtful and unsafe, (though 
 with good meaning,) and mixed partly of mis- 
 chief, and partly of remedy ; even as if you 
 would call a physician, that is thought good 
 hr the cure of the disease you complain of, 
 but is unacquainted with your body ; and, 
 therefore, may put you in a way for present 
 cure, but overthroweth your health in some 
 other kind, and so cure the disease, and kill 
 the patient : but a friend, that is w T holly ac- 
 quainted with a man's estate, will beware, by 
 furthering any present business, how he dash- 
 eth upon other inconvenience ; and, therefore, 
 rest not upon scattered counsels ; for they will 
 rather distract and mislead than settle and 
 direct. 
 
 After these two noble fruits of friendship 
 (peace in the affections and support of the judg- 
 ment) followeth the last fruit, which is, like 
 the pomegranate, full of many kernels ; I mean, 
 aid and bearing a part in all actions and occa- 
 sions. Here the best way to represent to life 
 
OF FRIENDSHIP. 109 
 
 the manifold use of friendship, is to cast and 
 see how many things there are which a man 
 cannot do himself; and then it will appear 
 that it was a sparing speech of the ancients to 
 say, "that a friend is another himself; for 
 that a friend is far more than himself." Men 
 have their time, and die many time-s in desire 
 of some things which they principally take to 
 heart ; the bestowing of a child, the finishing 
 of a work, or the like. If a man have a true 
 friend, he may rest almost secure that the care 
 of those things will continue after him ; so 
 that a man hath, as it were, two lives in his 
 desires. A man hath a body, and that body 
 is confined to a place ; but where friendship 
 is, all offices of life are, as it were, granted to 
 him and his deputy ; for he may exercise them 
 ty his friend. How many things are there 
 which a man cannot, with any face or comeli- 
 ness, say or do himself! A man can scarce 
 allege his own merits with modesty, much less 
 extol them ; a man cannot sometimes brook 
 to supplicate, or beg, and a number of the like : 
 but all these things are graceful in a friend's 
 mouth, which are blushing in a man's own. 
 So again, a man's person hath many proper 
 relations which he cannot put off. A man 
 cannot speak to his son but as a father ; to his 
 wife but as a husband; to his enemy but upon 
 terms . whereas a friend may speak as the 
 case requires, and not as it sorteth with the 
 person ; but to enumerate these things were 
 10 
 
110 OP EXPENSE. 
 
 endless , I have given the rule, where a man 
 cannot fitly play his own part ; if he have not 
 a friend, he may quit the stage. 
 
 OF EXPENSE. 
 
 Riches are for spending, and spending for 
 honour and good actions ; therefore extraordi- 
 nary expense must be limited by the worth of 
 the occasion; for voluntary undoing may be 
 as well for a man's country as for the kingdom 
 of heaven ; but ordinary expense ought to be 
 limited by a man's estate, and governed with 
 such regard as it be within his compass , 
 and not subject to deceit and abuse of ser- 
 vants ; and ordered to the best show, that the 
 bills may be less than the estimation abroad. 
 Certainly, if a man will keep but of even 
 hand, his ordinary expenses ought to be but 
 to the half of his receipts ; and if he think to 
 wax rich, but to the third part. It is no base- 
 ness for the greatest to descend and look into 
 their own estate. Some forbear it, not upon 
 negligence alone, but doubting to bring them- 
 selves into melancholy, in respect they shall 
 find it broken : but wounds cannot be cured 
 without searching. He that cannot look into 
 his own estate at all had need both choose 
 well those whom he employeth, and change 
 them often ; for new are more timorous and 
 less subtle. He that can look into his estate 
 
OP THE TRUE GREATNESS, &C. Ill 
 
 but seldom, it behooveth him to turn all to cer- 
 tainties. A man had need, if he be plentiful 
 in some kind of expense, to be as saving again 
 in some other; as, if he be plentiful in diet, 
 to be saving in apparel ; if he be plentiful in 
 the hall, to be saving in the stable, and the 
 like : for he that is plentiful in expenses of all 
 kinds will hardly be preserved from decay. 
 In clearing of a man's estate, he may as well 
 hurt himself in being too sudden, as in letting 
 it run on too long ; for hasty selling is com- 
 monly as disadvantageable as interest. Be- 
 sides, he thatf clears at once will relapse ; for, 
 finding himself out of straits, he will revert to 
 his customs ; but he that cleareth by degrees 
 induceth a habit of frugality, and gaineth as 
 well upon his mind as upon his estate. Cer- 
 tainly, who hath a state to repair may not de- 
 spise small tnings ; aiid, commonly, it is less 
 dishonourable to abridge petty charges than to 
 stoop to petty gettings. A man ought warily 
 to begin charges, which once begun will con- 
 tinue : but in matters that return not he may 
 be more magnificent. 
 
 OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS 
 AND ESTATES. 
 
 The speech of Themistocles the Athenian, 
 which was haughty and arrogant, in takiag so 
 much to himself, had been a grave and wise 
 observation and censure, applied, at large, to 
 
112 OF THE TRUE GREATNESS 
 
 others. Desired at a feast to touch a lute, he 
 said, a he could not riddle, but yet he could 
 make a small town a great city." These 
 words (holpen a little with a metaphor) may 
 express two differing abilities in those that deal 
 in business of estate ; for, if a true survey be 
 taken of counsellors and statesmen, there may 
 be found (though rarely) those which can 
 make a small state great, and yet cannot fid- 
 dle ; as, on the other side, there will be found 
 a great many that can fiddle very cunningly, 
 but yet are so far from being able to make a 
 small state great, as their gift lieth the other 
 way ; to bring a great and flourishing estate to 
 ruin and decay ; and, certainly, those degene- 
 rate arts and shifts, whereby many counsellors 
 and governors gain both favour with their 
 masters, and estimation with the vulgar, de- 
 serve no better name than fiddling ; being 
 things rather pleasing for the time, and grace- 
 ful to themselves only, than tending to the 
 weal and advancement of the state which they 
 serve. There are also (no doubt) counsellors 
 and governors which may be held sufficient, 
 u negotiis pares," able to manage affairs, and 
 to keep them from precipices and manifest in- 
 conveniences ; which, nevertheless, are far 
 from the ability to raise and amplify an estate 
 in power, means, and fortune : but be the 
 workmen what they may be. let us speak of 
 the work ; that is, the true greatness of king- 
 doms and estates, and the means thereof. An 
 argument fit for great and mighty princes to 
 
OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. 113 
 
 nave in their hand ; to the end, that neither 
 by overmeasuring their forces they lose them- 
 selves in vain enterprises; nor, on the other 
 side, by undervaluing them, they descend to 
 fearful and pusillanimous counsels. 
 
 The greatness of an estate, in bulk and ter- 
 ritory, doth fall under measure ; and the great- 
 ness of finances and revenue doth fall under 
 computation. The population may appear by 
 musters ; and the number and greatness of 
 cities and towns by cards and maps ; but yet 
 there is not any thing, amongst civil affairs, 
 more subject to error than the right valuation 
 and true judgment concerning the power and 
 forces of an estate. The kingdom of heaven 
 is compared, not to any great kernel, or nut, 
 but to a grain of mustard-seed ; which is one 
 of the least grains, but hath in it a property 
 and spirit hastily to get up and spread. So 
 are there states great in territory, and yet not 
 apt to enlarge or command : and some that 
 have but a small dimension of stem, and yet 
 are apt to be the foundation of great monar- 
 chies. 
 
 Walled towns, stored arsenals and armories, 
 goodly races of horse, chariots of war, ele- 
 phants, ordnance, artillery, and the like ; all 
 this is but a sheep in a lion's skin, except the 
 breed and disposition of the people be stout 
 and war ike. Nay, number (itself) in armies 
 importeth not much, where the people are of 
 weak courage ; for, as Virgil saith, " it never 
 troubles the wolf how many the sheep be.' 
 R 
 
114 OF THE TRUE GREATNESS 
 
 The army of the Persians, in the plains of Ar- 
 bela, was such a vast sea of people as it did 
 somewhat astonish the commanders in Alex- 
 ander's army, who came to him, therefore, and 
 wished him to set upon them by night ; but he 
 answered, "he would not pilfer the victory;" 
 and the defeat was easy. When Tigranes, the 
 Armenian, being encamped upon a hill with 
 four hundred thousand men, discovered the 
 army of the Romans, being not above fourteen 
 thousand, marching towards him, he made him- 
 self merry with it, and said, " Yonder men are 
 too many for an embassage, and too few for a 
 fight:" but before the sun set, he found them 
 enow to give him the chase, with infinite slaugh- 
 ter. Many are the examples of the great odds 
 between number and courage : so that a man 
 may truly make a judgment, that the prin- 
 cipal point of greatness in any state is to 
 have a race of military men. Neither is 
 money the sinews of war (as it is trivially 
 said) where the sinews of men's arms in base 
 and effeminate people are failing; for Solon 
 said well to Crcesus, (when in ostentation he 
 showed him his gold,) " Sir, if any othei 
 come that hath better iron than you, he will 
 be master of all this gold." Therefore, let 
 any prince, or state, think soberly of his forces, 
 except his militia of natives be of good and 
 valiant soldiers ; and let princes on the other 
 side, that have subjects of martial disposition, 
 know their own strength, unless they be other- 
 wise wanting unto themselves. As for mer- 
 
OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. lib 
 
 cenary forces, (which is the help in this case,) 
 all examples show that, whatsoever estate, or 
 prince, doth rest upon them, he may spread 
 his feathers for a time, but he will mew them 
 soon after. 
 
 The blessing of Judas and Issachar will 
 never meet ; that the same people, or nation, 
 should be both the lion's whelp and the ass 
 between burdens ; neither will it be, that a 
 people overlaid with taxes should ever become 
 valiant and martial. It is true, that taxes, levi- 
 ed by consent of the estate, do abate men's 
 courage less ; as it hath been seen notably m 
 the exercises of the Low Countries ; and, in 
 some degree, in the subsidies of England : for, 
 you must note, that we speak now of the heart, 
 and not of the purse ; so that, although trie 
 same tribute and tax, laid by consent or by 
 imposing, be all one to the purse, yet it works 
 diversely upon the courage. So that you may 
 conclude, that no people overcharged with 
 tribute is fit for empire. 
 
 Let states, that aim at greatness, take heed 
 how their nobility and gentlemen do multiply 
 too fast; for that maketh the common subject 
 grow to be a peasant and base swain, driven 
 out of heart, and, in effect, but a gentleman'** 
 labourer. Even as you may see in coppice 
 woods, if you leave your straddles too thick, 
 you shall never have clean underwood, but 
 shrubs and bushes. So in countries, if the 
 gentlemen be too many, the commons will be 
 base; and you will bring it to that, that not 
 
116 OP THE TRUE GREATNESS 
 
 the hundredth poll will be fit for a helmet ; 
 especially as to the infantry, which is the 
 nerve of an army : and so there will be great 
 population and little strength. This which I 
 speak of hath been no where better seen than 
 by comparing of England and France ; whereof 
 England, though far less in territory and pop- 
 ulation, hath been (nevertheless) an over- 
 match ; in regard the middle people of Eng- 
 land make good soldiers, which the peasants 
 of France do not : and herein the device of 
 King Henry the Seventh (whereof I have 
 spoken largely in the history of his life) was 
 profound and admirable ; in making farms and 
 nouses of husbandry of a standard; that is, 
 maintained with such a proportion of land unto 
 them as may breed a subject to live in conve- 
 nient plenty, and no servile condition ; and 
 to keep the plough in the hands of the owners, 
 and not mere hirelings ; and thus indeed ye 
 shall attain to Virgil's character, which he gives 
 to ancient Italy : 
 
 " Terra potens armis atque ubere glebae." 
 
 Neither is that state (which, for any thing I 
 know, is almost peculiar to England, and 
 hardly to be found any where else, except it 
 be perhaps in Poland) to be passed over ; I 
 mean the state of free servants and attendants 
 upon noblemen and gentlemen, which are no 
 ways inferiour unto the yeomanry for arms ; 
 and, therefore, out of all question, the splen- 
 dour and magnificence, and great retinues, the 
 
OP KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. 117 
 
 hospitality of noblemen and gentlemen re- 
 ceived into custom, do much conduce unto 
 martial greatness : whereas, contrariwise, the 
 close and reserved living of noblemen and 
 gentlemen causeth a penury of military forces. 
 By all means it is to be procured, that the 
 trunk of Nebuchadnezzar's tree of monarchy 
 be great enough to bear the branches and the 
 boughs ; that is, that the natural subjects of the 
 ^rown or state bear a sufficient proportion to the 
 strange subjects that they govern : therefore, 
 all states that are liberal of naturalization to- 
 wards strangers are fit for empire : for to think 
 that a handful of people can, with the greatest 
 courage and policy in the world, embrace too 
 large extent of dominion, it may hold for a 
 time, but it will fail suddenly. The Spartans 
 were a nice people in point of naturalization : 
 whereby, while they kept their, compass, they 
 stood firm ; but when they did spread, and 
 their boughs were become too great for their 
 stem, they became a windfall upon the sudden. 
 Never any state was, in this point, so open to 
 receive strangers into their body as were the 
 Romans; therefore it sorted with them ac- 
 cordingly, for they grew to the greatest mon- 
 archy. Their manner was to grant naturaliza- 
 tion, (which they called "jus civitatis,") and 
 to grant it in the highest degree, that is, not 
 only " jus commercii, jus connubii. jus haere- 
 ditatis ;" but also " jus suffragii," and "jus 
 honorum ;" and this not to singular persons 
 alone, but likewise tc whote families ; yea, to 
 
118 OF THE TRUE GREATNESS 
 
 citiesj and sometimes to nations. Add to this 
 their custom of plantation of colonies, where- 
 by the Roman plant was removed into the soil 
 of other nations ; and, putting both constitu- 
 tions together, you will say, that it was not the 
 Romans that spread upon the world, but it 
 was the world that spread upon the Romans ; 
 and that was the sure way of greatness. I 
 have marvelled sometimes at Spain, how they 
 clasp and contain so large dominions with so 
 few natural Spaniards : but sure the whole 
 compass of Spain is a very great body of a 
 tree, far above Rome and Sparta at the first ; 
 and, besides, though they have not had that 
 usage to naturalize liberally, yet they have that 
 which is next to it ; that is, to employ, almost 
 indifferently, all nations in their militia of or- 
 dinary soldiers ; yea, and sometimes in their 
 highest commands : nay, it seemeth, at this in- 
 stant, they are sensible of tHs want of natives : 
 as by the pragmatical sanction, now published, 
 appeareth. 
 
 It is. certain, that sedentary and within-door 
 arts, and delicate manufactures (that require 
 rather the finger than the arm) have in their 
 nature a contrariety to a military disposition ; 
 and, generally, all warlike people are a little 
 idle, and love danger better than travail , nei- 
 ther must they be too much broken of it, if 
 they shall bo preserved in vigour : therefore, 
 it was great advantage in the ancient states 
 of Sparta, Athens, Rome, and others, that they 
 had the use of slaves, which commonly did 
 
OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. 119 
 
 rid those manufactures ; but that is abolished, 
 in greatest part, by the Christian law. That 
 which cometh nearest to it is, to leave those 
 arts chiefly to strangers, (which, for that pur- 
 pose, are the more easily to be received,) and 
 to contain the principal bulk of the vulgar na- 
 tives within those three kinds, tillers of the 
 ground, free servants, and handicraftsmen of 
 strong and manly arts ; as smiths, masons, 
 carpenters, &c, not reckoning professed sol- 
 diers. 
 
 But, above all, for empire and greatness, il 
 importeth most, that a nation do profess arms 
 as their principal honour, study, and occupa- 
 tion ; lor the things which we formerly have 
 spoken of, are but habilitations towards arms ; 
 and what is habitation without intention and 
 act ? Romulus, after his death, (as they report 
 or feign,) sent a present to the Romans, that 
 above all they should intend arms, and then 
 they should prove the greatest empire of the 
 world. The fabric of the state of Sparta was 
 wholly (thongh not wisely) framed and com- 
 posed to that scope and end ; the Persians and 
 Macedonians had it for a flash ; the Gauls, 
 Germans, Goths, Saxons, Normans, and oth- 
 ers, had it for a time : the Turks have it at 
 this day, though in great declination. Of 
 Christian Europe, they that have it are, in ef- 
 fect, only the Spaniards : but it is so plain, that 
 every man proflteth in that he most intendeth, 
 that it needeth not to be stood upon : it is 
 enough to point at it ; that no nation, which 
 
120 OF THE TRUE GREATNESS 
 
 doth not directly profess arms, may look to 
 have greatness fall into their mouths ; and, on 
 the other side, it is a most certain oracle of 
 time, that those states that continue long in 
 that profession (as the Romans and Turks 
 principally have done) do wonders; and those 
 that have professed arms but for an age have, 
 notwithstanding, commonly attained that great- 
 ness in that age which maintained them long 
 after, when their profession and exercise* of 
 arms hath grown to decay. 
 
 Incident t3 this point is for a state to have 
 those laws or customs which may reach forth 
 unto them just occasions (as may be pretend- 
 ed) of war ; for there is that justice imprinted 
 in the nature of men, that they enter not upon 
 wars, (whereof so many calamities do ensue,) 
 but upon some, at the least specious, grounds 
 and quarrels. The Turk hath at hand, for 
 cause of war, the propagation of his lav/ or 
 sect, a quarrel that he may always command. 
 The Romans, though they esteemed the ex- 
 tending the limits of their empire to be great 
 honour to their generals when it was done, 
 yet they never rested upon that alone to begin 
 a war : first, therefore, let nations that pre- 
 tend to greatness have this, that they be sen- 
 sible of wrongs, either upon borderers, mer- 
 chants, or politic ministers ; and that they sit 
 not too long upon a provocation : secondly, let 
 them be pressed and ready to give aids and 
 succours to their confederates as it ever was 
 with the Romans : insomuch as if the confed* 
 
OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. 121 
 
 erates had leagues defensive with divers other 
 states, and, upon invasion offered, did implore 
 their aids severally, yet the Romans would 
 ever be the foremost, and leave it to none 
 other to have the honour. As for the wars, 
 which were anciently made on the behaif of 
 a kind of party, or tacit conformity of state, I 
 do not see how they may be well justified : as 
 when the Romans made a war for the liberty 
 cf Graecia ; or, when the Lacedaemonians and 
 Athenians made war to set up Or pull down 
 democracies and oligarchies : or, when wars 
 were made by foreigners, under the pretence 
 of justice or protection, to deliver the subjects 
 of others from tyranny and oppression, and the 
 like. Let it suffice, that no estate expect to 
 be great, that is not awake upon any just oc- 
 casion of arming. 
 
 No body can be healthful without exercise, 
 neither natural body nor politic ; and, certain- 
 ly, to a kingdom, or estate, a just and honour- 
 able war is the true exercise. A civil war, 
 indeed, is like the heat of a fever ; but a for- 
 eign war is like the heat of exercise, and 
 serveth to keep the body in health ; for, in a 
 slothful peace, both courages will effeminate, 
 and manners corrupt ; but howsoever it be for 
 luippiness, without all question for greatness, 
 it maketh to be still for the most part in arms : 
 and the strength of a veteran army, (though it 
 be a chargeable business,) always on foot, is that 
 which commonly giveth the law; or, at least, 
 the reputation amongst all neighbour states, as 
 11 
 
122 OF THE TRUE GREATNESS 
 
 may be well seen in Spain ; which hath had, 
 in one part or other, a veteran army almost 
 continually, now by the space of six score 
 years. 
 
 To be master of the sea is an abridgment 
 of a monarchy. Cicero, writing to Atticus of 
 Pompey's preparation against Caesar, saith, 
 "Consilium Pompeii plane Themistocleum 
 est ; putat enim, qui mari potitur, eum rerum 
 potiri ;" and, without doubt, Pompey had tired 
 out Csesar, if upon vain confidence he had not 
 left that way. We see the great effects of 
 battles by sea : the battle of Actium decided 
 the empire of the world ; the battle of Lepanto 
 arrested the greatness of the Turk. Tliere 
 be many examples, where sea fights have been 
 final to the war . but this is when princes, or 
 states, have set up their rest upon the battles ; 
 but thus much is certain, that he that com- 
 mands the sea is at grea., liberty, and may 
 take as much and as little of the war as he 
 will ; whereas, those that be strongest by 
 land are many times, nevertheless, in great 
 straits. Surel)% at this day, with us of Eu- 
 rope, the vantage of strength at sea (which is 
 one of the principal dowries of this kingdom 
 of Great Britain) is great ; both because most 
 of the kingdoms of Europe are not merely 
 inland, but girt with the sea most part of their 
 compass; and because the wealth of both 
 Indies seems, in great part, but an accessary 
 to the command of the seas. 
 
 The wars of later ages seem to be made in 
 
OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. 123 
 
 the dark, in respect of the glory and honour 
 which reflected upon men from the wars in 
 ancient time. There be now, for martial encour- 
 agement, some degrees and orders of chivalry, 
 which, nevertheless, are conferred promiscuous- 
 ly upon soldiers and no soldiers, and some re- 
 membrance perhaps upon the escutcheon, and 
 some hospitals for maimed soldiers, and such 
 like things ; but, in ancient times, the trophies 
 erected upon the place of the victory ; the 
 funeral laudatives and monuments for those 
 that died in the wars ; the crowns and gar- 
 lands personal; the style of emperor, which 
 the great kings of the world after borrowed ; 
 the triumphs of the generals upon their return ; 
 the great donatives and largesses upon the dis- 
 banding of the armies, — were things able to in- 
 flame all men's courages ; but, above all, that 
 of the triumph amongst the Romans was not 
 pageants, or gaudery, but one of the wisest 
 and noblest institutions that ever was ; for it 
 contained three things, honour to the genera^ 
 riches to the treasury out of the spoils, and 
 donatives to the army : but tkat honour, per- 
 haps, were not fit for monarchies ; except it 
 be in the person of the monarch himself, or 
 his sons; as it came to pass in the times 
 of the Roman emperors, who did impro- 
 priate the actual triumphs to themselves 
 and their sons, for such wars as they did 
 achieve in person, and left only for wars 
 achieved by subjects some triumphal garments 
 and ensigns to the general. 
 
1^4 OF REGIMEN OF HEALTH. 
 
 To conclude : no man can, by care taking, 
 (as the scripture saith,) " add a cubit to his 
 stature," in this little model of a man's body ; 
 but in the great frame of kingdoms and com- 
 monwealths, it is in the power of princes, or 
 estates, to add amplitude and greatness to their 
 kingdoms ; for, by introducing such ordi- 
 nances, constitutions, and customs, as we have 
 now touched, they may sow greatness to their 
 posterity and succession : but these things are 
 commonly not observed, but left to take their 
 chance. 
 
 OF REGIMEN OF HEALTH. 
 
 There is a wisdom in this beyond the rules 
 of physic ; a man's own observation, what he 
 finds good of, and what he finds hurt of, is the 
 best physic to preserve health ; but it is a 
 safer conclusion to say, " This agreeth not 
 well with me, therefore I will not continue 
 it," than this, " I find no offence of this, 
 therefore I maj use it :" for strength of na- 
 ture in youth passeth over many excesses 
 which are owing a man till his age. Discern 
 of the coming on of years, and think not to do 
 the same things still ; for age will not be de- 
 fied. Beware of sudden change in any great 
 point of diet, and, if necessity enforce it, fit 
 the rest to it ; for it is a secret, both in nature 
 and state, that it is safer to change many 
 things than one. Examine thy customs of 
 
OP REGIMEN OF HEALTH. 125 
 
 diet, sleep, exercise, apparel, and the like ; 
 and try, in any thing thou sh alt judge hurtful, 
 to discontinue it by little and little ; but so as, 
 if thou dost find any inconvenience by the 
 change, thou come back to it again : for it is 
 hard to distinguish that which is generally 
 held good and wholesome from that which is 
 good particularly, and fit for thine own body. 
 To be free-minded and cheerfully disposed at 
 hours of meat and sleep, and of exercise, is 
 one of the best precepts of long lasting. As 
 for the passions and studies of the mind, avoid 
 envy, anxious fears, anger, fretting inwards, 
 subtile and knotty inquisitions, joys and exhil- 
 arations in access, sadness not communicated. 
 Entertain hopes, mirth rather than joy, variety 
 of delights rather than surfeit of th^m ; won- 
 der and admiiation, and therefore novelties ; 
 studies that fill the mind with splendid and 
 illustrious objects, as histories, fables, and 
 contemplations of nature. If you fly physic 
 in health altogether, it will be too strange for 
 your body when you shall need it ; if you 
 make it too familiar, it will work no extraor- 
 dinary effect when sickness cometh. I com- 
 mend rather some diet for certain seasons than 
 frequent use of physic, except it be grown into 
 a custom ; for those diets alter the body more, 
 and trouble it less. Despise no new accident 
 in your body, but ask opinion of it. In sick- 
 ness, respect health principally ; and in health, 
 action : for those that put their bodies to en- 
 dure health, may, in most sicknesses which 
 11 * 
 
126 OF SUSPICION. 
 
 are not very sharp, be cured only with diet 
 and tendering. Celsus oould never have 
 spoken it as a physician, had he not been a 
 wise man withal, when he giveth it for one of 
 tiie great precepts of health and lasting, that 
 a man do vary and interchange contraries ; 
 but with an inclination to the more benign 
 extreme : use fasting and full eating, but 
 rather full eating; watching and sleep, but 
 rather sleep ; sitting and exercise, but rather 
 exercise, and the like : so shall nature be 
 cherished, and yet taught masteries. Physi- 
 cians are some of them so pleasing and com- 
 formable to the humour of the patient, as they 
 press not the true cure of the disease ; and 
 some other are so regular in proceeding ac- 
 cording to art for the disease, as they respect 
 not sufficiently the condition of the patient. 
 Take one of a middle temper ; or, if it may 
 not be found in one man, combine two of 
 either sort; and forget not to call as well 
 the best acquainted with your body, as the 
 best reputed of for his faculty. 
 
 OF SUSPICION. 
 
 Suspicions amongst thoughts are like bats 
 amongst birds, they ever fly by twilight : cer- 
 tainly they are to be repressed, or, at the least, 
 well guarded ; for they cloud the mind, they 
 lose friends, and they check with business, 
 whereby business cannot go on currently and 
 
OF SUSPICION. 127 
 
 constantly: they dispose kings to tyranny, 
 husbands to jealousy, wise men to irresolution 
 and melancholy : they are defects, not in the 
 heart, but in the brain ; for they take place in 
 the stoutest natures : as in the example of 
 Henry *the Seventh of England ; there was 
 not a more suspicious man nor a more stout : 
 and in such a composition they do small hurt ; 
 for commonly they are not admitted but with 
 examination, whether they be likely or no ; 
 but in fearful natures they gain ground too 
 fast. There is nothing makes a man suspect 
 much, more than to know little ; and, there- 
 fore, men should remedy suspicion by procur- 
 ing to know more, and not to keep their sus- 
 picions in smother. What would men have ? 
 do they think those they employ and deal with 
 are saints ? do they not think they will have 
 their own ends, and be truer to themselves 
 than to them ? therefore there is no better 
 way to moderate suspicions than to account 
 upon such suspicions as true, and yet to bridle 
 them as false : for so far a man ought to 
 make use of suspicions as to provide, as if 
 that should be true that he suspects, yet it may 
 do him no hurt. Suspicions that the mind of 
 itself gathers are but buzzes; but suspicions 
 that are artificially nourished, and put into 
 men's heads by the tales and whisperings of 
 others, have stings. Certainly, the best mean 
 to clear the way in this same wood of suspi- 
 cions, is frankly to communicate them with the 
 party that he suspects ; for thereby he shall 
 
128 OP DISCOURSE. 
 
 be sure to know more of the truth of them 
 than he did before ; and withal shall make 
 that party more circumspect, not to give fur- 
 ther cause of suspicion ; but this would not be 
 done to men of base natures ; for they, if they 
 find themselves once suspected, will never be 
 true. The Italian says, " Sospetto licentia 
 fede;" as if suspicion did give a passport to 
 faith ; but it ought rather to kindle it to dis- 
 charge itself. 
 
 OF DISCOURSE. 
 
 Some in their discourse desire rather com- 
 mendation of wit, in being able to hold all ar- 
 guments, than of judgment, in discerning what 
 is true ; as if it were a praise to know what 
 might be said, and not what should be thought. 
 Some have certain common places and themes, 
 wherein they are good, and want variety; 
 which kind of poverty is, for the most part, 
 tedious, and, when it is once perceived, ridic- 
 ulous. The honourablest part of talk is to 
 give the occasion ; and again to moderate and 
 pass to somewhat else, for then a man leads 
 the dance. It is good in discourse, and speech 
 of conversation, to vary and intermingle speech 
 of the present occasion with arguments, tales 
 with reasons, asking of questions with telling 
 of opinions, and jest w T ith earnest : for it is a 
 dull thing to tire, and, as we say now, to jade 
 any thing too far. As for jest, there be cer- 
 
OF DISCOURSE. 129 
 
 tain things which ought to be privileged from 
 it ; namely, religion, matters of state, great per 
 sons, any man's present business of importance, 
 and any case that deserveth pity ; yet there be 
 some that think their wits have been asleep, 
 except they dart out somewhat that is piquant, 
 and to the quick ; that is a vein which should 
 be bridled : 
 
 " Parce puer stimulis, et fortius utere loris." 
 
 And, generally, men ought to find the differ- 
 ence between saltness and bitterness. Cer- 
 tainly, he that hath a satirical vein, as he 
 maketh others afraid of his wit, so he had 
 need be afraid of others' memory. He that 
 questioneth much shall learn much, and con- 
 tent much ; but especially if he apply his 
 questions to the skill of the persons whom he 
 asketh ; for he shall give them occasion tc 
 please themselves in speaking, and himself 
 shall continually gather knowledge ; but let 
 his questions not be troublesome, for that is fit 
 for a poser ; and let him be sure to leave other 
 men their turns to speak : nay, if there be any 
 that would reign, and take up ail the time, let 
 him find means to take them off, and bring 
 others on : as musicians use to do with those 
 that dance too long galliards. If you dissem- 
 ble sometimes your knowledge of that you are 
 thought to know, you shall be thought, another 
 time, to know that you know not. Speech 
 of a man's self ought to be seldom, and well 
 chosen. I knew one was wont to say in scorn, 
 S 
 
130 OF DISCOURSE. 
 
 " He must needs be a wise man, he speaks so 
 much of himself:" and there is but one case 
 wherein a man may commend himself with 
 good grace, and that is in commending virtue 
 in another, especially if it be such a virtue 
 whereunto himself pretendeth. Speech of 
 touch towards others should be sparingly used , 
 'or discourse ought to be as a field, without 
 Coming home to any man. I knew two no- 
 blemen, of the west part of England, whereof 
 the one was given to scoff, but kept ever 
 royal cheer in his house ; the other would ask 
 of those that had been at the other's table, 
 4< Tell truly, was there never a flout or dry 
 blow given ?" to which the guest would an- 
 swer, " Such and such a thing passed :" the 
 lord would say, " I thought he would mar a 
 good dinner." Discretion of speech is more 
 than eloquence; and to speak agreeably to 
 him with whom we deal, is more than to 
 speak in good words, or in good order. A 
 good continued speech, without a good speech 
 of interlocution, shows slowness ; and a good 
 reply, or second speech, without a good settled 
 speech, showeth shallowness and weakness. 
 As we see in beasts ; those that are weakest in 
 the course, are yet nimblest in the turn ; as it 
 is betwixt the greyhound and the hare. To 
 use too many circumstances, ere one come to 
 the liiatter, is wearisome ; to use none at 
 all, is blunt. 
 
OF PLANTATIONS. 131 
 
 OF PLANTATIONS. 
 
 Plantations are amongst ancient, primitive 
 and heroical works. When the world was 
 young it begat more children ; but now it is 
 old it begets fewer : for I may justly account 
 new plantations to be the children of former 
 kingdoms. I like a plantation in a pure soil ; 
 that is, where people are not displanted to the 
 end to plant in others ; for else it is rather an 
 extirpation than a plantation. Planting of 
 countries is like pi anting of woods ; for you must 
 make account to lose almost twenty years' 
 profit, and expect your recompense in the end : 
 for the principal thing that hath been the de- 
 struction of most plantations hath been the 
 base and hasty drawing of profit in the first 
 years. It is true, speedy profit is not to be 
 neglected, as far as it may stand with the good 
 of the plantation, but no farther. It is a 
 shameful and unblessed thing to take the scum 
 of people, and wicked, condemned men, to be 
 the people with whom you plant; and not 
 only so, but it spcileth the plantation; for 
 they will ever live like rogues, and not fall to 
 work, but be lazy, and do mischief, and spend 
 victuals, and be quickly weary, and then cer- 
 tify over to their country to the discredit of 
 the plantation. The people wherewith you 
 plant ought to be gardeners, ploughmen, la- 
 bourers, smiths, carpenters, joiners, fishermen, 
 fowlers, with some few apothecaries, surgeons, 
 
132 OF PLANTATIONS. 
 
 cooks, and bakers. In a country of planta- 
 tion, first look about what kind of victual the 
 country yields of itself to hand : as chestnuts, 
 walnuts, pine-apples, olives, dates, plums, 
 cherries, wild honey, and the like, and make 
 use of them. Then consider what victual, 
 or esculent things there are, which grow speed- 
 ily, and within the year ; as parsnips, carrots, 
 turnips, onions, radish, artichokes of Jerusa- 
 lem, maize, and the like : for wheat, barley, 
 and oats, they ask too much labour ; but with 
 pease and beans you may begin ; both because 
 they ask less labour, and because they serve 
 for meat as well as for bread ; and of rice, 
 likewise, cometh a greart increase, and it is a 
 kind of meat. Above all, there ought to be 
 brought store of biscuit, oatmeal, flour, meal, 
 and the like, in the beginning, till bread may 
 be had. For beasts or birds, take chiefly such 
 as are least subject to diseases, and multiply 
 fastest ; as swine, goats, cocks, hens, turkeys, 
 geese, house-doves, and the like. The victual 
 in plantations ought to be expended almost as 
 in a besieged town ; that is, with certain al- 
 lowance : and let the main part of the ground, 
 employed to gardens or corn, be to a common 
 stock ; and to be laid in, and stored up, and 
 then delivered out in proportion ; besides some 
 spots of ground that any particular person 
 will manure for his own private use. Consid- 
 er, likewise, what commodities the soil where 
 the plantation is doth naturally yield, that they 
 may some way help to defray the charge of 
 
OF PLANTATIONS. 133 
 
 the plantation 3 so it be not, as was said, to 
 the untimely prejudice of the main business, 
 as it hath fared with tobacco in Vir^niia. 
 AYood commonly aboundeth but too much ; 
 and therefore timber is fit to be one. If there 
 be iron ore, and streams whereupon to set the 
 mills, iron is a brave commodity where wood 
 aboundeth. Making of bay-sait, if the climate 
 be proper for it, would be put in experience : 
 growing silk, likewise, if any be, is a likely 
 commodity : pitch and tar, where store of firs 
 and pines are, will not fail ; so drugs and 
 sweet woods, where they are, cannot but yield 
 profit; soap-ashes, likewise, and other things 
 that may be thought of; but moil not too 
 much under ground, for the hope of mines is 
 very uncertain, and useth to make the planters 
 lazy in other things. For government, let it 
 be in the hands of one, assisted with some 
 counsel ; and let them have commission to ex- 
 ercise martial laws, with some limitation ; and, 
 above all, let men make that profit of being 
 in the wilderness, as they have God always, 
 and his service, before their eyes : let not the 
 government of the plantation depend upon too 
 many counsellors and undertakers in the coun- 
 try that planteth, but upon a temperate num- 
 ber ; and let those be rather noblemen and 
 gentlemen than merchants ; for they look ever 
 to the present gain : let there be freedoms 
 from custom, till the plantation be of strength ; 
 and not only freedom from custom, but free- 
 dom to carry their commodities where they 
 12 
 
134 OF PJ.ANTATJON3. 
 
 may make their best of them, except there be 
 some special cause of caution. Cram not in 
 people, by sending too fast company after 
 company ; but rather hearken how they waste, 
 and send supplies proportionably ; but so as 
 the number may live well in the plantation, 
 and not by surcharge be in penury. It hath 
 been a great endangering to the health of some 
 plantations, that they have built along the 
 sea and rivers, in marish and unwholesome 
 grounds : therefore, though ycu begin there 
 to avoid carriage and other like discommodi- 
 ties, yet build still rather upwards from the 
 stream than along. It concerneth, likewise, 
 the health of the plantation, that they have 
 good store of salt with them, that they may 
 use it m their victuals when it shall be neces- 
 sary. If you plant where savages are, do not 
 only entertain them with trifles and gingles, 
 but use them justly and graciously, with suffi- 
 cient guard nevertheless ; and do not win their 
 favour by helping them to invade their ene- 
 mies, but for their defence it is not amiss ; and 
 send oft of them over to the country that 
 plants, that they may see a better condition 
 than their own, and commend it when they 
 return. When the plantation grows to strength, 
 then it is time to plant with women as well as 
 with men ; that the plantation may spread into 
 generations, and not be ever pierced from 
 without. It is the sinfulest thing in the 
 world to forsake or destitute a plantation 
 once in forwardness; for, besides the dis- 
 
OP RICHES. 135 
 
 honour, it is the guiltiness of blood of many 
 eommiserable persons. 
 
 OF RICHES. 
 
 I cannot call riches better than the baggage 
 of virtue ; the Roman word is better, " imped- 
 imenta ;" for as the baggage is to an army, so 
 is riches to virtue; it cannot be spared nor 
 left behind, but it hindereth the march ; yea, 
 and the care of it sometimes loseth or disturb- 
 eth the victory; of great riches there is no 
 real use, except it be in the distribution ; the 
 rest is but conceit ; so saith Solomon, u Where 
 much is, there are many to consume it ; and 
 what hath the owner but the sight of it with 
 his eyes ?" The personal fruition in any man 
 cannot reach to feel great riches : there is a 
 custody of them; or a power of doie and 
 donative of them ; or a fame of them ; but no 
 solid use to the owner. Do you not see what 
 feip-ned prices are set upon little stones and 
 rarities ? and what works of ostentation are 
 undertaken, because there might seem to be 
 some use of great riches ? But then you will 
 say, they may be of use to buy men out cf 
 dangers or troubles ; as Solomon saith, 
 " Riches are as a strong hold in the imagina- 
 tion of the rich man :" but this is excellently 
 expressed, that it is in imagination, and 
 not always in fact : for, certainly, great riches 
 have sold more men than they have bought 
 
136 OF RICHES. 
 
 out. Seek not proud riches, but such as thou 
 mayst get justly, use soberly, distribute cheer- 
 fully, and leave contentedly ; yet have no ab- 
 stract or friarly contempt of them ; but distin- 
 guish, as Cicero saith well of Rabirius Post- 
 humus, " in studio rei amplificandse appare- 
 bat, non avaritiae prsedam, sed instrumentum 
 bonitati quseri." Hearken also to Solomon, 
 and beware of hasty gathering of riches; 
 " Qui festinat ad divitias, non erit insons." 
 The poets feign that when Plutus (which is 
 riches) is sent from Jupiter, he limps, and 
 goes slowly ; but when he is sent from Pluto, 
 he runs, and is swift of foot ; meaning, that 
 riches gotten by good means and just labour 
 pace slowly ; but when they come by the 
 death of others, (as by the course of inheri- 
 tance, testaments, and the like,) they come 
 tumbling upon a man : but it might be applied 
 likewise to Pluto, taking him for the devil : 
 for when riches come from the devil, (as by 
 fraud and oppression, and unjust means,) they 
 3ome upon speed. The ways to enrich are 
 many, and most of them foul : parsimony is 
 one of the best, and yet is not innocent ; for it 
 withholdeth men from works of liberality and 
 charity. The improvement of the ground is 
 the most natural obtaining of riches ; for it is 
 our great mother's blessing, the earth ; but it 
 is slow : and yet, where men of great wealth 
 do stoop to husbandry, it multiplieth riches 
 exceedingly. I knew a nobleman of England, 
 that had the greatest audits of any man in my 
 
OF RICHES. 137 
 
 time, a great grazier, a great sheep master, a 
 great timber man, a great collier, a great corn 
 master, a great lead man, and so of iron, and a 
 number of the like points of husbandry ; so as 
 the earth seemed a sea to him in respect of the 
 perpetual importation. It was truly observed 
 by one, " That himself came very hardly to 
 little riches, and very easily to great riches ;" 
 for when a man's stock is come to that, that 
 he can expect the prime of markets, and over- 
 come those bargains, which for their greatness 
 are few men's money, and be partner in the 
 industries of younger men, he cannot but 
 increase mainly. The gains of ordinary trades 
 and vocations are honest, and furthered by two 
 things, chiefly, by diligence, and by a good 
 name for good and fair dealing; but the gains 
 of bargains are of a more doubtful nature, 
 when men shall wait upon others' necessity ; 
 broke by servants and instruments to draw 
 them on ; put off others cunningly that would 
 be better chapmen, and the like practices, 
 which are crafty and naughty : as for the 
 chopping of bargains when a man buys not to 
 hold, but to sell over again, that commonly 
 grindeth double, both upon the seller and upon 
 the buyer. Sharings do greatly enrich, if the 
 hands be well chosen that are trusted. Usury 
 is the certainest means of gain, though one ol 
 the worst, as that whereby a man doth eat his 
 bread, " in sudorevultus alieni;" and besides, 
 doth plough upon Sundays : but yet, certain 
 though it be, it hath flaws ; for that the scriv- 
 12* 
 
138 
 
 OF RICHES. 
 
 eners and brokers do value unsound men to 
 serve their own turn. The fortune, in being 
 the first in an invention, or in a privilege, 
 doth cause sometimes a wonderful overgrowth 
 in riches ; as it was with the first sugar man 
 in the Canaries ; therefore, if a man can play 
 the true logician, to have as well judgment as 
 invention, he may do great matters, especially 
 if the times be fit : he that resteth upon gains 
 certain shall hardly grow to great riches ; and 
 he that puts all upon adventures, doth often- 
 times break and come to poverty : it is good, 
 therefore, to guard adventures with certainties 
 that may uphold losses. Monopolies, and co- 
 emption of wares for resale, where they are 
 not restrained, are great means to enrich ; 
 especially if the party have intelligence what 
 things are like to come into request, and so 
 store himself beforehand. Riches gotten by 
 service, though it be of the best rise, yet when 
 they are gotten by flattery, feeding humours, 
 and other servile conditions, they may be 
 placed amongst the worst. As for fishing for 
 testaments and executorships, (as Tacitus saith 
 of Seneca, " testamenta et orbos tanquam 
 indagine capi,") it is yet worse, by how much 
 men submit themselves to meaner persons than 
 in service. Believe not much them that seem 
 to despise riches, for they despise them that 
 despair of them ; and none worse when they 
 come to them. Be not penny-wise; riches 
 have wings, and sometimes they fly away of 
 themselves, sometimes they must be set flying 
 
OP PROPHECIES. 139 
 
 to bring in more. Men leave their riches 
 either to their kindred or to the public ; and 
 moderate portions prosper best in both. A 
 great estate left to an heir is as a lure to all the 
 birds of prey round about to seize on him, if he 
 be not the better established in years and judg- 
 ment : likewise glorious gifts and foundations 
 are like sacrifices without salt ; and but the 
 painted sepulchres of alms, which soon will 
 putrify and corrupt inwardly : therefore, meas- 
 ure not thine advancements by quantity, but 
 frame them by measure : and defer not chari- 
 ties till death : for certainly, if a man weigh it 
 rightly, he that doth so is rather liberal of 
 another man's than of his own. 
 
 OF PROPHECIES. 
 I mean not to speak of divine prophecies, 
 nor of heathen oracles, nor of natural predic- 
 tions ; but only of prophecies that have been 
 of certain memory, and from hidden causes. 
 Saith the Pythonissa to Saul, "Tomorrow 
 thou and thy s^ns shall be with me." YirgiJ 
 hath these verses from Homer : 
 
 " At domus ^Eneas cunctis dominabitur oris, 
 
 Et nati natorum, et qui nascentur ab illis." JEn. iii. 97. 
 
 A prophecy as it seems of the Roman empire 
 Seneca, the tragedian, hath these verses : 
 
 : Venient annis 
 
 Sfficula seris, quibus oceanus 
 Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens 
 Pa'.eat tellus, Tiphysque novo* 
 Detegat orbes ; nee sit terria 
 Ultima Tiiule ;" 
 
140 OF PROPHECIES. 
 
 a prophecy of the discovery of" America. The 
 daughter of Polycrates dreamed that Jupiter 
 bathed her father, and Apollo anointed him ; 
 and it came to pass that he was crucified in an 
 open place, where the sun made his body run 
 with sweat, and the rain washed it. Philip 
 of Macedon dreamed he sealed up his wife's 
 belly; whereby he did expound it, that his 
 wife should be barren ; but Aristander, the 
 soothsayer, told him his wife was with child, 
 because men do not use to seal vessels that 
 are empty. A phantom, that appeared to M. 
 Brutus in his teat, said to him, " Philippis 
 iterum me videbis." Tiberius said to Galba, 
 " tu quoque, Galba, degustabis imperium." 
 In Vespasian's time there went a prophecy in 
 the East, that those that should come forth of 
 Judea should reign over the world ; which 
 though it may be was meant of our Saviour, 
 yet Tacitus expounds it of Vespasian. Dom- 
 itian dreamed, the night before he was slain, 
 that a golden head was growing out of the 
 nape of his neck ; and indeed *he succession 
 that followed him, for many years, made golden 
 times. Henry the Sixth of England said of 
 Henry the Seventh, when he was a lad, and 
 gave him water, " this is the lad that shall 
 enjoy the crown for which we strive.' 5 When 
 I was in France, I heard from one Dr. Pena, 
 that the queen mother, who was given to curi- 
 ous arts, caused the king her husband's nativ- 
 ity to be calculated under a false name ; and the 
 astrologer gave a judgment, that he should be 
 
OF PROPHECIES. 141 
 
 killed in a duel ; at which the queen laughed, 
 thinking her husband to be above challenges 
 and duels : but he was slain upon a course 
 at tilt, the splinters of the staff of Montgomery 
 going in at his beaver. The trivial prophecy 
 which I heard when I was a child, and queen 
 Elizabeth was in the flower of her years, was, 
 
 " When hempe is spun 
 England's done:" 
 
 whereby it was generally conceived, that after 
 the princes had reigned which had the princi- 
 pal letters of the w T ord hempe, (which were 
 Henry, Edward, Mary, Philip, and Elizabeth,) 
 England should come to utter confusion ; 
 which, thanks be to God, is verified in the 
 change of the name ; for the king's style is 
 now no more of England but of Britain, 
 There was also another prophecy before the 
 year of eighty-eight, which I do not well 
 understand : 
 
 " There shall be seen upon a day, 
 Between the Baugh and the May, 
 The black fleet of Norway. 
 When that is come and gone, 
 England build houses of lime and stone, 
 For after wars shall you have none." 
 
 It was generally conceived to be meant of the 
 Spanish fleet that came in eighty-eight: for 
 that the king of Spain's surname, as they say, is 
 Norway. The prediction of Regiomontanus, 
 
 11 Octogesimus octavus mirabilis annus," 
 
 was thought likewise accomplished in the 
 sending of that great fleet, being the greatest 
 
142 OP PROPHECIES. 
 
 in strength, though not in number, of all that 
 ever swam upon the sea. As for Cleon's 
 dream, I think it was a jest ; it was, that he 
 was devoured of a long dragon ; and it was 
 expounded of a maker of sausages, that trou- 
 bled him exceedingly. There are numbers 
 of the like kind ; especially if you include 
 dreams, and predictions of astrology; but I 
 have set down these few only of certain credit, 
 for example. My judgment is, that they 
 ought all to be despised, and ought to serve 
 but for winter talk by the fireside. Though, 
 when I say despised, I mean it as for belief; 
 for otherwise, the spreading or publishing of 
 them is in no sort to be despised, for they 
 have done much mischief; and I see many 
 severe laws made to suppress them. That 
 that hath given them grace, and some credit, 
 consisteth in three things. First, that men 
 mark when they hit, and never mark when 
 they miss; as they do, generally, also of 
 dreams. The second is, that probable conjec- 
 tures, or obscure traditions, many times turn 
 themselves into prophecies : while the nature 
 of man, which coveteth divination, thinks it 
 no peril to foretell that which indeed they do 
 but collect : as that of Seneca's verse ; for so 
 much was then subject to demonstration, that 
 the globe of the earth had great parts beyond 
 the Atlantic, which might be probably con- 
 ceived not to be all sea : and, adding thereto 
 the tradition in Plato's Timaeus, and his Atlan- 
 ticus, it might encourage one to turn it to a 
 
OP AMBITION. 143 
 
 prediction. The third and last (which is the 
 great one) is, that almost all of them, being 
 infinite in number, have been impostures, and, 
 by idle and crafty brains, merely contrived 
 and feigned, after the event passed. 
 
 OF AMBITION. 
 
 Ambition is like cholcr, which is a hu- 
 mour that maketh men active, earnest, fuJi of 
 alacrity, and stirring, if it be not stopped : but 
 if it be stopped, and cannot have its way, it 
 becometh a dust, and thereby malign and ven 
 omous : so ambitious men, if they find thf 
 way open for their rising, and still get forward, 
 they are rather busy than dangerous ; but, if 
 they be checked in their desires, they become 
 secretly discontent, and look upon men and 
 matters with an evil eye, and are best pleased 
 when things go backward ; which is the worst 
 property in a servant of a prince or state : 
 therefore it is good for princes, if they use 
 ambitious men, to handle it so, as they be still 
 progressive, and not retrograde, which, be- 
 cause it cannot be without inconvenience, it is 
 good not to use such natures at all ; for, if they 
 rise not with their service, they will take order 
 to make their service fall with them. But 
 sinee we have said, it were good not to uce 
 men of ambitious natures, except it be upon 
 necessity, it is fit we speak in what cases they 
 are of necessity. Good commanders in the 
 
144 OF AMBITION. 
 
 wars must be taken, be they never so ambi 
 tious ; for the use of their service dispenseth 
 with the rest ; and to take a soldier without 
 ambition is to pull off his spurs. There is also 
 great use of ambitious men in being screens 
 to princes in matters of danger and envy ; for 
 no man will take that part except he be like a 
 sealed dove, that mounts and mounts, because 
 he cannot see about him. There is use also 
 of ambitious men in pulling down the great- 
 ness of any subject that overtops ; as Tiberius 
 used Macro in the pulling down of Sejanus. 
 Since, therefore, they must be used in such 
 cases, there resteth to speak how they are to be 
 riddled, that they may be less dangerous : 
 there is less danger of them if they be of 
 mean birth than if they be noble ; and if they 
 be rather harsh of nature than gracious and 
 popular : and if they be rather new raised 
 than grown cunning and fortified in their 
 greatness. It is counted by some a weakness 
 in princes to have favourites ; but it is, of all 
 others, the best remedy against ambitious 
 great ones ; for when the way of pleasuring 
 and displeasuring lieth by the favourite, it is 
 impossible any other should be over great. 
 Another means to curb them is, to balance 
 them by others as proud as they ; but then 
 there must be some middle counsellors, to keep 
 things steady ; for without that ballast the 
 ghip will roll too much. At the least, a prince 
 may animate and inure some meaner persons 
 to be, as it were 3 scourges to ambitious men. 
 
OF AMBITION. 145 
 
 \s for the having of them obnoxious to nun, 
 if they be of fearful natures, it may do well ; 
 but if they be stout and daring, it may precip- 
 itate their designs, and prove dangerous. As 
 for the pulling of them down, if the affairs 
 require it, and that it may not be done with 
 safety suddenly, the only way is, the inter- 
 change continually of favours and disgraces, 
 whereby they may not know what to expect, 
 and be, as it were, in a wood. Of ambitions, 
 it is less harmful the ambition to prevail in 
 great things, than that other to appear in every 
 thing; for that breeds confusion, and mars 
 business : but yet it is less danger to have an 
 ambitious man stirring in business than great 
 in dependences. He that seeketh to be emi- 
 nent amongst able men hath a great task ; but 
 that is ever good for the public : but he that 
 plots to be the only figure amongst ciphers is 
 the decay of a whole age. Honour hath three 
 things in it ; the vantage ground to do good ; 
 the approach to kings and principal persons ; 
 and the raising of a man's own fortunes. He 
 that hath the best of these intentions, when 
 he aspireth, is an honest man ; and that prince 
 that can discern of these intentions in another 
 that aspireth, is a wise prince. Generally let 
 princes and states choose such ministers as 
 are more sensible of duty than of rising, and 
 such as love business rather upon conscience 
 han upon bravery ; and let them discern a 
 ousy nature from a willing mind. 
 T 
 
146 OF MASQUES AND TRIUMPHS. 
 
 OF MASQUES AND TRIUMPHS. 
 
 These things are but toys to come ainongs 4 
 such serious observations ; but yet, since 
 princes will have such things, it is better they 
 should be graced with elegancy than daubed 
 with cost. Dancing to song is a thing of great 
 state and pleasure. I understand it that the 
 song be in quire, placed aloft, and accompanied 
 with some broken music ; and the ditty fitted 
 to the device. Acting in song, especially in 
 dialogues, hath an extreme good grace ; I say 
 acting, not dancing, (for that is a mean and 
 vulgar thing;) and the voices of the dialogue 
 would be strong and manly, (a bass and a 
 tenor ; no treble,) and the ditty high and trag- 
 ical ; not nice or dainty. Several quires 
 placed one over against another, and taking 
 the voice by catches, anthemwise, give great 
 pleasure. Turning dances into figure is a 
 childish curiosity; and generally let it be 
 noted, that those things which I here set 
 down are such as do natuially take the sense, 
 and not respect petty wonderments. It is true, 
 the alterations of scenes, so it be quietly and 
 without noise, are things of great beauty and 
 pleasure; for they feed and relieve the eye 
 before it be full of the same object. Let the 
 scenes abound with light, especially coloured 
 and varied ; an^TTet the masquers, or any other 
 that are,t@i£6me down from the scene, have 
 
 ^ 
 
OF MASQUES AND TRIUMPHS. 147 
 
 some motions upon the scene itself before their 
 coming down ; for it draws the eye strangely, 
 and makes it with great pleasure to desire to 
 see that it cannot perfectly discern. Let the 
 songs be loud and cheerful, and not chirpings 
 or pulings : let the music likewise be sharp 
 and loud, and well placed. The colours that 
 show best by candle-light are white, carnation, 
 and a kind of sea-water green ; and cuches, 
 or spangs, as they are of no great cost, so they 
 are of most glory. As for rich embroidery, it 
 is lost and not discerned. Let the suits of the 
 masquers be graceful, and such as become the 
 person when the vizards are off; not after ex- 
 amples of known attires ; Turks, soldiers* 
 mariners, and the like. Let anti-masques not 
 be long ; they have been commonly of fools, 
 satyrs, baboons, wild men, antics, beasts, 
 spirits, witches, Ethiopes, pigmies, turquets, 
 nymphs, rustics, cupids, statues moving, and 
 the like. As for angels, it is not comical 
 enough to put them in anti-masques : and any 
 thing that is hideous, as devils, giants, is, on 
 the other side, as unfit ; but, chiefly, let the 
 music of them be recreative, and with some 
 strange changes. Some sweet odours suddenly 
 coming forth, without any drops failing, are, 
 in such a company as there is steam and heat, 
 things of great pleasure and refreshment. 
 Double masques, one of men, another of ladies, 
 addeth state and variety ; but all is nothing, 
 except the room be kept clean and neat. 
 
148 OF NATURE IN MEN. 
 
 For justs, and tourneys, and barriers, the 
 glories of them are chiefly in the chariots 
 wherein the challengers make their entry; 
 especially if they be drawn with strange 
 beasts : as lions ? bears, camels, and the like ; 
 or in the devices of their entrance, or in 
 bravery of their liveries, or in the goodly 
 furniture of their horses and armour. But 
 enough of these toys. 
 
 OF NATURE IN MEN. 
 
 Nature is often hidden, sometimes over- 
 come, seldom extinguished. Force maketh 
 nature more violent in the return; doctrine 
 and discourse maketh nature less importune ; 
 but custom only doth alter and subdue nature. 
 He that seeketh victory over his nature, let 
 him not set himself too great nor too small 
 tasks ; for the first will make him dejected 
 by often failing, and the second will make 
 him a small proceeder, though by often pre- 
 vailing : and, at the first, let him practise with 
 helps, as swimmers do with bladders <;«• rushes ; 
 but, after a time, let him practise with disad- 
 vantages, as dancers do with thick shoes ; for 
 it breeds great perfection if the practice be 
 harder than the use. Where nature is mighty, 
 and therefore the victory hard, the degrees 
 had need be, first, to stay and arrest nature in 
 time; like to him that would say over the 
 
 
OF NATURE IN MEN. 149 
 
 four-and-twenty letters when he was angry ; 
 then to go less in quantity : as if one should T 
 in forbearing wine, come from drinking healths 
 to a draught at a meal ; and, lastly, to discon- 
 tinue altogether : but if a man have the forti- 
 tude and resolution to enfranchise himself at 
 once, that is the best : 
 
 " Optimus iile animi vindex, lscdantis pectus 
 Vincula qui rupit, dedoluiique semel." 
 
 Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend na- 
 ture as a wand to a contrary extreme, whereby 
 to set it right; understanding it where the 
 contrary extreme is no vice. Let not a man 
 force a habit upon himself with a perpetual 
 continuance, but with some intermission ; for 
 both the pause reenforceth the new onset : 
 and, if a man that is not perfect be ever in 
 practice, he shall as well practise his errors as 
 his abilities, and induce one habit of both ; 
 and there is no means to help this but by sea- 
 sonable intermission : but let not a man trust 
 his victory over his nature too far ; for nature 
 will lie buried a great time, and yet revive 
 upon the occasion, or temptation ; like as it 
 was with JEsop's damsel, turned from a cat to 
 a woman, who sat very demurely at the board's 
 end till a mouse ran before her : therefore, let 
 a man either avoid the occasion altogether, or 
 put himself often to it, that he may be little 
 moved with it. A man's nature is best per- 
 ceived in privateness ; for there is no affecta 
 tion in passion ; for that putteth a man out ^ 
 13* 
 
150 OF CUSTOM AND EDUCATION. 
 
 his precepts, and in a new case or experiment, 
 Tor there custom leaveth him. They are hap- 
 py men whose natures aort with their voca- 
 tions; otherwise they may say, "multum 
 incola fuit anima mea," when they con- 
 verse in those things they do not affect. In 
 6 tu dies, whatsoever a man commandeth upon 
 iiimself, let him set hours for it ; but whatso- 
 ever is agreeable to his nature, let him take no 
 care for any set times ; for his thoughts will rly 
 to it of themselves, so as the spaces of other 
 business or studies will . suffice. A man's 
 nature runs either to herbs or weeds : therefore, 
 let him seasonably water the one, and destroy 
 the other. 
 
 OF CUSTOM AND EDUCATION. 
 
 Men's thoughts are much according to 
 their inclination ; their discourse and speeches 
 according to their learning and infused opin- 
 ions.; but their deeds are after as they have 
 been accustomed : and, therefore, as Machi- 
 avel well noteth, (though in an ill favoured 
 instance,) there is no trusting to the force of 
 nature, nor to the bravery of words, except it be 
 corroborate by custom. His instance is that, 
 for the achieving of a desperate conspiracy, a 
 man should not rest upon the fierceness of any 
 man's nature, or his resolute undertakings; 
 but take such a one as hath bad his hands for- 
 merly in blood but Machiavel knew not of a 
 
OF OttSTOM AND EDUCATION. 351 
 
 friar Clement, nor a Ravillac, nor a Jaureguy, 
 nor a Baltazar Gerard ; yet his rule holdeth 
 «till, that nature, nor the engagement of words, 
 are not so forcible as custom. Only supersti- 
 tion is now so well advanced, that men of the 
 first blood are as firm as butchers by occupa- 
 tion ; and votary resolution is made equipol- 
 lent to custom even in matter of blood. In 
 other things, the predominancy of custom is 
 every where visible, insomuch as a man 
 would wonder to hear men profess, protest, 
 engage, give great w T ords, and then do just as 
 they have done before, as if they were dead 
 images and engines, moved only by the wheels 
 of custom. We see also the reign or tyranny 
 of custom, what it is. The Indians (I mean 
 the sect of their wise men) lay themselves 
 quietly upon a stack of wood, and so sacrifice 
 themselves by fire : nay, the wives strive to 
 be burned with the corpse of their husbands 
 The lads of Sparta, of ancient time, were 
 wont to be scourged upon the altar of Diana, 
 without so much as squeaking. I remember, 
 in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's time of 
 England, an Irish rebel, condemned, put up 
 a petition to the deputy that he might be 
 hanged in a withe, and not in a halter 
 because it had been so used w r ith former 
 rebels. There be monks in Russia, for pen- 
 ance, that will sit a whole night in a vessel 
 of water, till they be engaged with hard ice 
 Many examples may be put of the force 
 of custom, both upon mind and body : there 
 
152 OP CUSTOM AND EDUCATION. 
 
 fore, since custom is the principal magis- 
 trate of man's life, let men by all means 
 endeavour to obtain good customs. Certainly, 
 custom is most perfect when it beginneth in 
 young years : this we call education, which 
 is in effect but an early custom. So we 
 see, in languages, the tone is more pliant 
 to all expressions and sounds, the joints are 
 more supple to all feats of activity and motions 
 in youth, than afterwards ; for it is true, the 
 late learners cannot so well take up the ply, 
 except it be in some minds that have not suf- 
 fered themselves to fix, but have kept them- 
 selves opened and prepared to receive contin- 
 ual amendment, which is exceeding rare : 
 but if the force of custom, simple and sepa- 
 rate, be great, the force of custom, copulate 
 and conjoined and collegiate, is far greater ; 
 for their example teacheth, company comfort- 
 eth, emulation quickeneth, glory raiseth ; so 
 as in such places the force of custom is in its 
 exaltation. Certainly, the great multiplication 
 of virtues upon human nature resteth upon 
 societies well ordained and disciplined; for 
 commonwealths and good governments do 
 nourish virtue grown, but do not much mend 
 the seeds : but the misery is, that the most 
 effectual means are now applied to the ends 
 least to be desired. 
 
OF FORTUNE. 153 
 
 OF FORTUNE. 
 
 It cannot be denied but outward accidents 
 conduce much to fortune ; favour, opportunity, 
 death of others, occasion fitting virtue : but, 
 chiefly, the mould of a man's fortune is in his 
 own hands : '' Faber quisque fortune suae," 
 saith the poet ; and the most frequent of ex- 
 ternal causes is, that the folly of one man is 
 the fortune of another ; for no man prospers 
 so suddenly as by others' errors ; u serpens 
 nisi serpentem comederit non sit draco." 
 Overt and apparent virtues bring forth praise ; 
 but there be secret and hidden virtues that 
 bring forth fortune ; certain deliveries of a 
 man's self, which have no name. The Span- 
 ish name, " disemboltura," partly expresseth 
 them, when there be not stands nor restive- 
 ness in a man's nature, but that the wheels of 
 his mind keep way w T ith the w T heels of his 
 fortune ; for so Livy (after he had described 
 Cato Major in these words, u in illo viro, tan- 
 tum robur corporis et animi fuit, ut quocunque 
 loco natus esset, fortunam sibi facturus videre- 
 tur,") falleth upon that he had, "versatile 
 ingenium :" therefore, if a man look sharply 
 and attentively, he shall see Fortune ; for 
 though she be blind, yet she is not invisible. 
 The w r ay of fortune is like the milky way in 
 the sky ; which is a meeting, or knot of a 
 number of small stars, not seen asunder, but 
 giving light together : so are there a number 
 
154 OF FORTUNE. 
 
 of little and scarce discerned virtues, or rathe* 
 faculties and customs that make men fortunate 
 the Italians note some of them, such as a man 
 would little think. When they speak of one 
 that cannot do amiss, they will throw it in'o 
 his other conditions, that he hath " Poco di 
 matto ;" and, certainly, there be not two more 
 fortunate properties, than to have a little of 
 the fool, and not too much of the honest : 
 therefore extreme lovers of their country, or 
 masters, were never fortunate : neither can 
 they be ; for when a man placeth his thoughts 
 without himself, he goeth not his own way. 
 A hasty fortune maketh an enterpriser and 
 remover ; (the French hath it better, " entre- 
 prenant," or " remuant ;") but the exercised 
 fortune maketh the able man. Fortune is to 
 be honoured and respected, and it be but for 
 her daughters, Confidence and Reputation ; 
 for those two felicity breedeth ; the first within 
 a man's self, the latter in others towards him. 
 All wise men, to decline the envy of their 
 own virtues, use to ascribe them to Provi- 
 dence and Fortune ; for so they may the bet- 
 ter assume them : and, besides, it is greatness 
 in a man to be the care of the higher powers. 
 So Caesar said to the pilot in the tempest, 
 " Caesarem portas, et fortunam ejus." So Syl- 
 la chose the name of " felix," and not of 
 " magnus :" and it hath been noted, that those 
 who ascribe openly too much to their own 
 wisdom and policy, end unfortunate. It is 
 written, that Timotheus, the Athenian, after 
 
OF USURY. 155 
 
 iie had, in the account he gave to the state of 
 his government, often interlaced this speech, 
 " And in this fortune had no part," never pros- 
 pered in any thing he undertook afterwards. 
 Certainly there be whose fortunes are like 
 Homer's verses, that have a slide and easi- 
 ness more than the verses of other poets ; as 
 Plutarch saith of Timoleon's fortune in respect 
 of that of Agesilaus, or Epaminondas ; and 
 that this should be, no doubt it is much in a 
 man's self. 
 
 OF USURY. 
 
 Many have made witty invectives against 
 usury. They say, that it is pity the devil 
 should have God's part, which is the tithe ; 
 that the usurer is the greatest sabbath breaker, 
 because his plough goeth every Sunday ; that 
 the usurer is the drone that Virgil speaketh of; 
 
 " Ignavum fucoq pccus a praesepibus arcent ;" 
 
 that the usurer breaketh the first law that was 
 made for mankind after the fall, which w r as, " in 
 sudore vultus tui comedes panem tuum ;" not 
 " in sudore vultus alieni ;" that usurers should 
 have orange-tawny bonnets, because they do 
 Judaize ; that it is against nature for money to 
 beget money, and the like. I say this only, 
 that usury is a " concessum propter duritiem 
 cordis *" for, since there must be borrowing 
 ind ending, and men are so hard of heart as 
 hey will d®£ lend freely, usury must be per- 
 
156 OF USURY. 
 
 rnitted. Some others have made suspicious 
 and cunning propositions of banks, discovery 
 of men's estates, and other inventions ; but 
 few have spoken of usury usefully. It is good 
 to set before us the incommodities and com- 
 modities of usury, that the good may be either 
 weighed out, or culled out : and warily to 
 provide; that, while we make forth to that 
 which is better, we meet not with that which 
 is w r orse. 
 
 The discommodities of usury are, first, that 
 it makes fewer merchants ; for, were it not for 
 this lazy trade of usury, money would not lie 
 still, but it would in great part be employed 
 upon merchandising ; which is the " vena 
 porta" of wealth in a state : the second, that 
 it makes poor merchants ; for, as a farmer can- 
 not husband his ground so well if he sit at a 
 great rent, so the merchant cannot drive his 
 trade so well if he sit at great usury : the 
 third is incident to the other two ; and that is, 
 the decay of customs of kings, or estates, 
 which ebb or flow with merchandising : the 
 fourth, that it bringeth the treasure of a realm or 
 state into a few hands ; for the usurer being at 
 certainties, and the other at uncertainties, at 
 the end of the game most of the money will 
 be in the box ; and ever a state flourisheth 
 when w r ealth is more equalty spread : the 
 fifth, that it beats down the price of land ; for 
 the employment of money is chiefly either 
 merchandising, or purchasing ; and usury way- 
 lays both : the sixth, that it doth dull and 
 
OF USURY. 157 
 
 damp all industries, improvements, and new 
 inventions, wherein money would be stirring, 
 if it were not for this slug : the last, that it is the 
 canker and ruin of many men's estates, which 
 in process of time breeds a pubh'c poverty. 
 
 On the other side, the commodities of usury 
 are, first, that howsoever usury in some respect 
 hindereth merchandising, yet in some other it 
 advanceth it ; for it is certain that the greatest 
 part of trade is driven by young merchants 
 upon borrowing at interest ; so as if the usurer 
 either call in, or keep back his money, there 
 will ensue presently a great stand of trade : 
 the second is, that, were it not for this easy 
 borrowing upon interest, men's necessities 
 would draw upon them a most sudden undo- 
 ing, in that they would be forced to sell their 
 means (be it land or goods) far under foot, 
 and so, whereas usury doth but gnaw upon 
 them, bad markets would swallow them quite 
 up. As for mortgaging, or pawning, it will 
 little mend the matter : for either men will not 
 take pains without use, or, if they do, they 
 will look precisely for the forfeiture. I re- 
 member a cruel monied man in the country, 
 that would say, u The devil take this usury, 
 it keeps us from forfeitures of mortgages and 
 bonds." The third and last is, that it is a 
 vanity to conceive that there would be ordi- 
 nary borrowing without profit ; and it is im- 
 possible to conceive the number of inconve- 
 niences that will ensue, if borrowing be 
 cramped : therefore to speak of the abolishin 
 14 
 
158 OF USURY. 
 
 of usury is idle ; all states have ever had it in 
 one kind or rate, or other : so as that opinion 
 must be sent to Utopia. 
 
 To speak now of the reformation and regle- 
 ment of usury, how the discommodities of it 
 may be best avoided, and the commodities 
 retained. It appears, by the balance of 
 commodities and discommodities of usury, 
 two things are to be reconciled ; the one that 
 the tooth of usury be grinded, that it bite not 
 too much; the other, that there be left open 
 a means to invite monied men to lend to the 
 merchants, for the continuing and quickening 
 of trade. This cannot be done, except you 
 introduce two several sorts of usury, a less 
 and a greater ; for, if you reduce usury to one 
 low rate, it will ease the common borrower, 
 but the merchant will be to seek for money : 
 and it is to be noted, that the trade of mer- 
 chandise being the most lucrative, may bear 
 usury at a good rate : other contracts not so. 
 
 To serve both intentions, the way would be 
 briefly thus : that there be two rates of usury ; 
 the one free and general for all ; the other 
 under license only to certain persons, and in 
 certain places of merchandising. First, there- 
 fore, let usury in general be reduced to five in 
 the hundred ; and let that rate be proclaimed 
 to be free and current ; and let the state shut 
 itself out to take any penalty for the same : 
 this will preserve borrowing from any general 
 stop or dryness ; this will ease infinite bor- 
 rowers in the country ; this will, in good part, 
 
OF USURY. 159 
 
 raise the price of land, because land purchased 
 at sixteen years' purchase will yield six m the 
 hundred, and somewhat more, whereas this 
 rate of interest yields but five ; this by like 
 reason will encourage and edge industrious 
 and profitable improvements, because many 
 will rather venture in that kind, than take 
 five in the hundred, especially having been 
 used to greater profit. Secondly, let there be 
 certain persons licensed to lend to known mer- 
 chants upon usury, at a high rate, and lei it be 
 with the cautions following : let the rate be, 
 even with the merchant himself, somewhat 
 more easy than that he used formerly to 
 pay; for by that means all borrowers shall 
 have some ease by this reformation, be he 
 merchant or whosoever : let it be no bank, or 
 common stock, but every man be master 
 of his own money ; not that I altogether dis- 
 like banks, but they will hardly be brooked, 
 in regard of certain suspicions. Let the state 
 be answered some small matter for the 
 license, and the rest left to the lender ; for, 
 if the abatement be but small, it will no 
 whit discourage the lender; for he, for ex- 
 ample, that took before ten or nine in the 
 hundred, will sooner descend to eight in the 
 hundred than give over this trade of usury, 
 and go from certain gains to gains of hazard. 
 Let these licensed lenders be in number inde- 
 fini e, but restrained to certain principal cities 
 and towns of merchandising ; for then they 
 will be hardly able to colour other men's 
 
160 OF YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 moneys in the country : so as the license of 
 nine will not suck away the current rate of 
 five ; for no man will lend his moneys far off, 
 nor put them into unknown hands. 
 
 If it be objected, that this doth in a sort 
 authorize usury, which before was in some 
 places but permissive ; the answer is, that it 
 is better to mitigate usury by declaration than 
 to suffer it to rage by connivance. 
 
 OF YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 A man that is young in years may be old in 
 hours, if he have lost no time ; but that hap- 
 peneth rarely. Generally, youth is like the 
 first cogitations, not so wise as the second : 
 for there is a youth in thoughts as well as in 
 ages ; and yet the invention of young men is 
 more lively than that of old, and imaginations 
 stream into their minds better, and, as it were, 
 more divinely. Natures that have much heat, 
 and great and violent desires and perturbations, 
 are not ripe for action till they have passed 
 the meridian of their years : as it was with 
 Julius Caesar and Septimius Severus : of the 
 latter of whom it is said, "juventutem egit, 
 erroribus, imo furoribus plenam :" and yet he 
 was the ablest emperor, almost, of all the list : 
 but reposed natures may do well in youth, as 
 it is seen in Augustus Caesar, Cosmes, duke 
 of Florence, Gaston de Fois, and others. On 
 the other side, heat and vivacity in age is an 
 
OF YOUTH AND AGE. 161 
 
 excellent composition for business. Young 
 men are fitter to invent than to judge ; fitter 
 for execution than for counsel ; and fitter for 
 new projects than for settled business ; for the 
 experience of age, in things that fall within 
 the compass of it, directeth them ; but in new 
 things abuseth them. The errors of young 
 men are the ruin of business ; but the errors 
 of aged men amount but to this, that more 
 might have been done, or sooner. Young 
 men, in the conduct and manage of actions, 
 embrace more than they can hold ; stir more 
 than they can quiet ; fly to the end, without 
 consideration of the means and degrees ; pur- 
 sue some few principles which they have 
 chanced upon absurdly ; care not to innovate, 
 which draws unknown inconveniences; use 
 extreme remedies at first; and that, which 
 doubleth all errors, will not acknowledge or 
 retract them, like an unready horse, that will 
 neither stop nor turn. Men of age object too 
 much, consult too long, adventure too little, 
 repent too soon, and seldom drive business 
 home to the full period, but content themselves 
 with a mediocrity of success. Certainly it is 
 good to compound employments of both ; for 
 that will be good for the present, because the 
 virtues of either age may correct the defects 
 of both ; and good for succession, that, young 
 men may be learners, while men in age are 
 actors ; and, lastly, good for external accidents, 
 because authority followeth old men, and 
 favour and popularity youth : but for the moral 
 U 
 
162 OF BEAUTY. 
 
 part, perhaps, youth will have the pre-emi 
 nence, as age hath for the politic. A certain 
 rabbin, upon the text, " Your young men 
 shall see visions, and your old men shall 
 dream dreams," inferreth that young men are 
 admitted nearer to God than old, because 
 vision is a clearer revelation than a dream : 
 and, certainly, the more a man drinketh of the 
 world, the more it intoxicateth : and age doth 
 profit rather in the powers of understanding 
 than in the virtues of the will and affections. 
 There be some have an over-early ripeness in 
 their years, which fadeth betimes : these are, 
 first, such as have brittle wits, the edge whereof 
 is soon turned : such as was Hermogenes the 
 rhetorician, whose books are exceeding subtle, 
 who afterwards waxed stupid : a second sort 
 is of those that have some natural dispositions, 
 which have better grace in youth than in age ; 
 such as is a fluent and luxurious speech, 
 which becomes youth well, but not age : so 
 Tully saith of Hortensius, " idem manebat, 
 neque idem decebat:" the third is of such as 
 take too high a strain at the first, and are 
 magnanimous more than tract of years can 
 uphold ; as was Scipio Africanus, of whom 
 Livy saith in effect, " ultima primis cedebant." 
 
 OF BEAUTY. 
 
 Virtue is like a rich stone, best plain set; 
 and surely virtue is best in a body that is 
 
OF BEAUTY. 163 
 
 comely, though not of delicate features ; and 
 that hath rather dignity of presence than beau- 
 ty of aspect ; neither is it almost seen, that 
 very beautiful persons are otherwise of great 
 virtue ; as if nature were rather busy not to 
 err, than in labour to produce excellency ; and 
 therefore they prove accomplished, but not of 
 great spirit ; and study rather behaviour than 
 virtue, But this holds not always : for Augus- 
 tus Caesar, Titus Vespasianus, Philip le Belle 
 of France, Edward the Fourth of England, 
 Al-eibiades of Athens, Ismael the sophy of 
 Persia, were all high and great spirits, and yet 
 the most beautiful men of their times. In 
 beauty, that of favour is more than that of 
 colour ; and that of decent and gracious mo- 
 tion more than that of favour. That is the 
 best part of beauty which a picture cannot 
 express ; no, nor the first sight of the life. 
 There is no excellent beauty that hath not 
 some strangeness in the proportion. A man 
 cannot tell whether Apelles, or Albert Durer, 
 were the more trifler ; whereof the one would 
 make a personage by geometrical proportions : 
 the other, by taking the best parts out of divers 
 faces, to make one excellent. Such person- 
 ages, I think, would please nobody but the 
 painter that made them : not but I think a 
 painter may make a better face than ever 
 was ; but he must do it by a kind of felicity, 
 (as a musician that maketh an excellent air in 
 music,) and not by rule. A man shall see 
 faces, that, if you examine them part by part, 
 
164 OF DEFORMITY, 
 
 you shall find never a good ; and yet, altogether, 
 do well. If it be true, that the principal part 
 of beauty is in decent motion, certainly it is 
 no marvel, though persons in years seem many 
 times more amiable ; " pulchrorum autumnus 
 pulcher ;" for no youth can be comely but by 
 pardon, and considering the youth as to make 
 up the comeliness, Beauty is as summer 
 fruits, which are easy to corrupt, and cannot 
 last ; and, for the most part, it makes a disso- 
 lute youth, and an age a little out of counte- 
 nance ; but yet certainly again, if it light well, 
 it maketh virtues shine and vices blush. 
 
 OF DEFORMITY. 
 
 Deformed persons are commonly even with 
 nature ; for, as nature hath done ill by them, 
 so do they by nature, being for the most part 
 (as the scripture saith) "void of natural 
 affection :" and so they have their revenge of 
 nature. Certainly there is a consent between 
 the body and the mind, and where Nature 
 erreth m the one, she ventureth in the other . 
 il ubi peccat in uno, periclitatur in altero :" 
 but because there is in man an election, 
 touching the frame of his mind, and a neces- 
 sity in the frame of his body, the stars of 
 natural inclination are sometimes obscured by 
 the sun of discipline and virtue ; therefore it 
 is good to consider of deformity, not as a sign 
 which is more deceivable, but as a cause 
 
OF DEFORMITY. 165 
 
 which seldom faileth of the effect. Who- 
 soever hath any thing fixed in his person 
 that doth induce contempt, hath also a perpet- 
 ual spur in himself to rescue and deliver him- 
 self from scorn ; therefore, all deformed per 
 sons are extreme bold ; first, as in their own 
 defence, as being exposed to scorn, but in pro- 
 cess of time by a general habit. Also it stir- 
 re th in them industry, and especially of this 
 kind, to watch and observe the weakness of 
 others, that they may have somewhat to repay. 
 Again, in their superiors, it quencheth jealousy 
 towards them, as persons that they think they 
 may at pleasure despise : and it layeth their 
 competitors and emulators asleep, as never 
 believing they should be in possibility of ad- 
 vancement till they see them in possession : 
 so that upon the matter, in a great wit, defor- 
 mity is an advantage to rising. Kings, in an- 
 cient times, (and at this present in some coun- 
 tries,) were wont to put great trust in eunuchs, 
 because they that are envious towards all are 
 more obnoxious and officious towards one ; 
 but yet their trust towards them hath rather 
 been as to good spials, and good whisperers, 
 than good magistrates and officers : and much 
 like is the reason of deformed persons. Still 
 the ground is, they will, if they be of spirit, 
 seek to free themselves from scorn ; which 
 must be either by virtue or malice ; and, 
 therefore, let it not be marvelled, if sometimes 
 they prove excellent persons ; as was Agesi- 
 laus, Zanger the son of Solyman, ^sop, 
 
166 OF BUILDING. 
 
 Gasca, president of Peru ; and Socrates may 
 go likewise amongst them, with others. 
 
 OF BUILDING. 
 
 Houses are huilt to live in, and not to look 
 on; therefore, let use be preferred before uni- 
 formity, except where both may be had. 
 Leave the goodly fabrics of houses, for beauty 
 only, to the enchanted palaces of the poets, 
 who build them with small cost. He that 
 builds a fair house upon an ill seat committeth 
 himself to prison ; neither do I reckon it an 
 ill seat only where the air is unwholsome, but 
 likewise where the air is unequal; as you 
 shall see many fine seats set upon a knap of 
 giound, environed with higher hills round 
 about it, whereby the heat of the sun is pent 
 in, and the wind gatliereth as in troughs ; so 
 as you shall have, and that suddenly, as great 
 diversity of heat and cold as if you dwelt in 
 several places. Neither is it ill air only that 
 maketh an ill seat ; but ill ways, ill markets ; 
 and, if you consult with Momus, ill neighbours. 
 I speak not of many more ; want of water, 
 want of wood, shade, and shelter; want of 
 fmitfulness, and mixture of grounds of several 
 natures ; want of prospect, want of level 
 grounds, want of places at some near distance 
 for sports of hunting, hawking, and races ; too 
 near the sea ; too remote ; having the com- 
 
OP BUILDING. 167 
 
 modity of navigable rivers, or the discom- 
 modity of their overflowing ; too far off from 
 great cities, which may hinder business; or 
 too near them, which lurcheth all provisions, 
 and maketh every thing dear ; where a man 
 hath a great living laid together, and where he 
 is scanted ; all which, as it is impossible per- 
 haps to find together, so it is good to know them, 
 and think of them, that a man may take as many 
 as he can ; and, if he have several dwellings, 
 that he sort them so, that what he wanteth in 
 the one, he may find in the other. Lucullus 
 answered Pompey well, who, when he saw 
 his stately galleries and rooms so Urge and 
 lightsome, in one of his houses, said, u Surely 
 an excellent place for summer, but how do 
 you in winter ?" Lucullus answered, " Why, 
 do you not think me as wise as some fools are, 
 that ever change their abode towards the 
 winter ?" 
 
 To pass from the seat to the house itself, we 
 will do as Cicero doth in the orator's art, who 
 writes books De Oratore, and a book he enti- 
 tles Orator; whereof the former delivers the 
 precepts of the art, and the latter the perfec- 
 tion. We will therefore describe a princely 
 palace, making a brief model thereof ■ for it is 
 strange to see, now, in Europe, such huge 
 buildings as the Vatican and the Escurial, and 
 some others be, and yet scarce a very fair 
 room in them. 
 
 First, therefore, I say, you cannot have a 
 perfect palace, except you have two several 
 
168 OF BUILDING. 
 
 sides ; a side for the banquet, as is spoken 
 of in the book of Esther, and a side for the 
 household ; the one for feasts and triumphs, 
 and the other for dwelling. I understand 
 both these sides to be not only returns, but 
 parts of the front ; and to be uniform without, 
 though severally partitioned within ; and to 
 be on both sides of a great and stately tower 
 in the midst of the front, that, as it were, join- 
 eth them together on either hand. I would 
 have, on the side of the banquet in front, 
 one Gnly goodly room above stairs, of some 
 forty foot high ; and under it a room for 
 a dressing, or preparing place, at times of tri- 
 umphs. On the other side, which is the 
 household side, I wish it divided at the first 
 into a hall and a chapel, (with a partition be- 
 tween,) both of good state and bigness ; and 
 those not to go all the length, but to have at 
 the farther end a winter and a summer par- 
 lour, both fair ; and under these rooms a fair 
 and large cellar sunk under ground ; and like- 
 wise some privy kitchens, with butteries and 
 pantries, and the like. As for the tower, I 
 would have it two stories, of eighteen foot 
 high apiece above the two wings ; and goodly 
 leads upon the top, railed with statues inter- 
 posed ; and the same tower to be divided into 
 rooms, as shall be thought fit. The stairs, 
 likewise, to the upper rooms, let them be upon 
 a fair and open newel, and finely railed in with 
 images of wood cast into a brass colour ; and 
 a very fair landing-place at the top. But this 
 
OF BUILDING. 169 
 
 to be, if you do not point any of the lower 
 rooms for a dining place of servants ; for, 
 otherwise, you shall have the servants' dinner 
 after your own : for the steam of it will come 
 up as in a tunnel ; and so much for the front : 
 only I understand the height of the first stairs 
 to be sixteen foot, which is the height of the 
 lower room. 
 
 Beyond this front is there to be a fair court, 
 but three sides of it of a far lower building than 
 the front ; and in all the four corners of that 
 court fail* staircases, cast into turrets on the out- 
 side, and not within the row of buildings them- 
 selves : but those towers are not to be of the 
 height of the front, but rather proportionable to 
 the lower building. Let the court not be pav- 
 ed, for that striketh up a great heat in summer, 
 and much cold in winter : but only some side 
 alleys with a cross, and the quarters to graze, 
 being kept shorn, but not too near shorn. The 
 row of return on the banquet side, let it be 
 all stately galleries : in which galleries let 
 there be three or five fine cupolas in the length 
 of it, placed at equal distance, and fine col- 
 oured windows of several works : on the 
 household side, chambers of presence and 
 ordinary entertainments, with some bed-cham- 
 bers : and let all three sides be a double 
 house, without thorough lights on the sides, 
 that you may have rooms from the sun, both 
 for forenoon and afternoon. Cast it also, 
 that you may have rooms both for summer 
 and winter; shady for summer and warm 
 15 
 
170 OF BUILDING. 
 
 for winter. You shall have sometimes fair 
 houses so full of glass, that one cannot tell 
 where to become to be out of the sun or cold. 
 For embowed windows, I hold them of good 
 use ; (in cities, indeed, upright do better, in 
 respect of uniformity towards the street;) for 
 they be pretty retiring places for conference ; 
 and, besides, they keep both the wind and sun 
 off; for that which would strike almost 
 through the room doth scarce pass the win- 
 dow : but let them be but few, four in the 
 court, on the sides only. 
 
 Beyond this court, let there be an inward 
 court, of the same square and height, which 
 is to be environed with the garden on all 
 sides ; and in the inside, cloistered on all 
 sides upon decent and beautiful arches, as 
 high as the first story : on the under story, 
 towards the garden, let it be turned to a grotto, 
 or place of shade, or estivation; and only 
 have opening and windows towards the gar- 
 den, and be level upon the floor, no whit sunk 
 under ground, to avoid all dampishness : and let 
 there be a fountain, or some fair work of stat- 
 ues, in the midst of the court, and to be paved 
 as the other court was. These buildings to be 
 for privy lodgings on both sides, and the end 
 for privy galleries : whereof you must foresee 
 that one of them be for an infirmary, if the 
 prince or any special person should be sick, 
 with chambers, bed-chamber, " antecamera," 
 and " recamera," joining to it : this upon the 
 second story. Upon the ground story, a fair 
 
OF GARDENS. 171 
 
 gallery, open, upon pillars ; and upon the 
 third story likewise, an open gallery upon pil- 
 lars, to take the prospect and freshness of the 
 garden. At both corners of the farther side, 
 by way of return, let there be two delicate or 
 rich cabinets, daintily paved, richly hanged, 
 glazed with crystalline glass, and a rich cupola 
 in the midst ; and all other elegancy that may 
 be thought upon. In the upper gallery too, I 
 wish that there may be, if the place will yield 
 it, some fountains running in divers places 
 from the wall, with some fine avoidances. 
 And thus much for the model of the palace ; 
 save that you must have, before you c >me to 
 the front, three courts ; a green court piain, 
 with a wall about it ; a second com I of the 
 same, but more garnished with little turrets, 
 or rather embellishments, upon the wall ; and 
 a third court, to make a square with the front, 
 but not to be built, nor yet enclosed with a 
 naked wall, but enclosed with terraces leaded 
 aloft, and fairly garnished on the three sides ; 
 and cloistered on the inside with pillars, ana 
 not with arches below. As for offices, lcc 
 them stand at distance, with some low galle- 
 ries to pass from them to the palace itself. 
 
 OF GARDENS. 
 
 God Almighty first planted a garden ; and, 
 indeed, it is the purest of human pleasures ; il 
 is the greatest refreshment to the spirits of 
 
172 OF GARDENS. 
 
 man; without which buildings and palaces 
 are but gross handiworks : and a man shall 
 ever see, that, when ages grow to civility and 
 elegancy, men come to build stately, sooner 
 than to garden finely ; as if gardening were 
 the greater perfection. I do hold it ? in the 
 royal ordering of gardens, there ought to be 
 gardens for all the months in the year, in 
 which, severally, things of beauty may be 
 then in season. For December and January, 
 and the latter part of November, you must 
 take such things as are green all winter ; holly, 
 ivy, bays, juniper, cypress trees, yew, pines, 
 fir trees, rosemary, lavender; periwinkle, the 
 white, the purple, and the blue ; germander, 
 flag, orange trees, lemon trees, and myrtles, if 
 they be stoved ; and sweet marjoram, warm 
 set. There followeth, for the latter part of 
 January and February, the mezeron tree, 
 which then blossoms ; crocus vermis, both the 
 yellow and the gray ; primroses, anemones, 
 the early tulip, the hyacinthus, orientalis, 
 chamairis fritellaria. For March there come 
 violets, especially the single blue, which are 
 the earliest ; the early daffodil, the daisy, the 
 almond tree in blossom, the peach tree in blos- 
 som, the cornelian tree in blossom, sweetbriar. 
 [n April follow the double white violet, the 
 wallflower, the stock gilMower, the cowslip, 
 flower-de-luces, and lilies of all natures ; 
 rosemary flowers, the tulip, the double peony, 
 the pale daffodil, the French honey-suckle, 
 the cherry tree in blossom, the damascene and 
 
OF GARDENS. 173 
 
 plum trees in blossom, the white thorn in leaf, 
 the lilach tree. In May and June come pinks 
 of all sorts, especially the blush pink; roses 
 of all kinds, except the musk, which comes 
 later; honey-suckles, strawberries, bugloss, 
 columbine, the French marigold, flos Africa- 
 nus, cherry tree in fruit, ribes, figs in fruit, 
 rasps, vine-flowers, lavender in flowers, the 
 sweet satyrian, with the white flower ; herba 
 muscaria lilium convallium, the apple tree in 
 blossom. In July come gilliflowers of all 
 varieties, musk-roses, the lime tree in blossom, 
 early pears, and plums in fruit, gennitings, 
 codlins. In August come plums of all sorts 
 in fruit, pears, apricots, berberries, filberds, 
 musk-mellons, monks-hoods of all colours. 
 In September come grapes, apples, poppies of 
 all colours, peaches, melocotones, nectarines, 
 cornelians, wardens, quinces. In October and 
 the beginning of November come services, 
 medlars, bull aces, roses cut or removed to 
 come late, hollyoaks, and such like. These 
 particulars are for the climate of London : but 
 my meaning is perceived, that you may have 
 " ver perpetuum," as the place affords. 
 
 And because the breath of flowers is far 
 sweeter in the air, where it comes and goes, 
 (like the warbling of music,) than in the 
 hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that 
 delight than to know what be the flowers and 
 plants that do best perfume the air. Roses, 
 damask and red, are fast flowers of their 
 smells ; so that you may walk by a whole row 
 15 • 
 
174 OF GARDENS. 
 
 of them, and find nothing of their sweetness ; 
 yea, though it be in a morning's dew. Bays, 
 likewise, yield no smell as they grow, rose- 
 mary little, nor sweet marjoram ; that which, 
 above all others, yields the sweetest smell in 
 the airj is the violet, especially the white 
 double violet, which comes twice a year, about 
 the middle of April, and about Bartholomew- 
 tide. Next to that is the musk-rose ; then the 
 strawberry leaves dying, with a most excellent 
 cordial smell ; then the flower of the vines, it is 
 a little dust like the dust of a bent, which grows 
 upon the cluster in the first coming forth ; then 
 sweetbriars, then wallflowers, which are very 
 delightful to be set under a parlour or lower 
 chamber window ; then pinks and giJliflowers, 
 especially the matted pink and clove-gilli- 
 flower ; then the flowers of the lime tree ; 
 then the honey-suckles, so they be somewhat 
 afar off. Of bean-flowers I speak not, be- 
 cause they are field flowers ; but those which 
 perfume the air most delightfully, not passed by 
 as the rest, but being trodden upon and crush- 
 ed, are three; that is, burnet, wild thyme, 
 and watermints ; therefore, you are to set 
 whole alleys of them, to have the pleasure 
 when you walk or tread. 
 
 For gardens, (speaking of those which are, 
 indeed, princelike, as we have done of build- 
 ings,) the contents ought not well to be under 
 thirty acres of ground, and to be divided into 
 three parts ; a green in the entrance, a heath 
 or desert in the going forth, and the main gar- 
 
OF GARDENS. 17.5 
 
 den in the midst, besides alleys on both side^ ; 
 and I like well that four acres of ground be 
 assigned to the green, six to the heath, four 
 and four to either side, and twelve to the main 
 garden. The green hath two pleasures : the 
 one, because nothing is more pleasant to the 
 eye than green grass kept finely shorn ; the 
 other, because it will give you a fair alley in 
 the midst, by which you may go in front upon 
 a stately hedge, which is to enclose the gar- 
 den ; but because the alley will be long, and, 
 in great heat of the year, or day, you ought 
 net to buy the shade in the garden by going 
 in the sun through the green ; therefore you 
 are, of either side the green, to plant a covert 
 alley, upon carpenter's work, about twelve 
 foot in height, by which you may go in shade 
 into the garden. As for the making of knots, 
 or figures, with divers coloured earths, that 
 they may lie under the windows of the house 
 on that side on which the garden stands, they 
 be but toys : you may see as good sights many 
 times in tarts. The garden is best to be 
 square, encompassed on all the four sides with 
 a stately arched hedge ; the arches to be upon 
 pillars of carpenter's work, of some ten foot 
 high, and six foot broad, and the spaces between 
 of the same dimensions with the breadth of the 
 arch. Over the arches let there be an entire 
 hedge of some four foot high, framed also upon 
 carpenter's work ; and upon the other hedge 
 over every arch, a little turnet, with a belly 
 enough to receive a cage of birds : and ovei 
 
176 OF GARDENS. 
 
 every space between the arches some othei 
 little figure, with broad plates of round col- 
 oured glass gilt for the sun to play upon : but 
 this hedge I intend to be raised upon a bank, 
 not steep, but gently slope, of some six foot, 
 set all with flowers. Also I understand, that 
 this square of the garden should not be the 
 whole breadth of the ground, but to leave on 
 either side ground enough for diversity of side 
 alleys, unto which the two covert alleys of 
 the green may deliver you ; but there must be 
 no alleys with hedges at either end of this 
 great enclosure ; not at the hither end, for let- 
 ting your prospect upon this fair hedge from 
 the green ; nor at the farther end, for letting 
 your prospect from the hedge through the 
 arches upon the heath. 
 
 For the ordering of the ground within the 
 gieat hedge, I leave it to variety of device; 
 advising, nevertheless, that whatsoever form 
 you cast it into first, it be not too busy or full 
 of work ; wherein I, for my part, do not like 
 images cut out in juniper or other garden stuff, 
 they be for children. Little low hedges, like 
 round welts, with some pretty pyramids, I like 
 well ; and in some places fair columns, upon 
 frames of carpenter's work. I would also 
 have the alleys spacious and fair. You may 
 have closer alleys upon the side grounds, but 
 none in the main garden. I wish also, in the 
 very middle, a fair mount, with three ascents 
 and alleys, enough for four to walk abreast 
 which I would have to be perfect circle* 
 
OF GARDENS. 177 
 
 without any bulwarks or embossments ; and 
 the whole mount to be thirty feet high, and 
 some fine banqueting house, with some chim- 
 neys neatly cast, and without too much glass. 
 For fountains, they are a great beauty and 
 refreshment ; but pools mar all, and make the 
 garden unwhoisome, and full of flies and frogs. 
 Fountains I intend to be of two natures ; the 
 one that sprinkleth or spouteth water ; the 
 other a fair receipt of water, of some thirty or 
 forty feet square, but without fish, or slims, 01 
 mud. For the first, the ornaments of images, 
 gilt or of marble, which are in use, do well : 
 but the main matter is so to convey the 
 water, as it never stay, either in the bowls 
 or in the cistern : that the water be never 
 by rest discoloured, green or red, or the 
 like, or gather any mossiness or putrefac- 
 tion ; besides that, it is to be cleansed every 
 day by the hand : also some steps up to it. 
 and some fine pavement about it do well. As 
 for the other kind of fountain, which we may 
 call a bathing pool, it may admit much curios- 
 ity and beauty, wherewith we will not trouble 
 ourselves : as, that the bottom be finely paved, 
 and with images; the sides likewise; and 
 withal embellished with coloured glass, and 
 such things of lustre ; encompassed also with 
 fine rails of low statues : but the main point 
 is the same which we mentioned in the for- 
 mer kind of fountain ; which is, that the water 
 bs in perpetual motion, fed by a water higher 
 V 
 
178 OF GARDENS, 
 
 than the pool, and delivered into it by fair 
 spouts, and then discharged away under 
 ground, by some equality of bores, that it stay 
 little ; and for fine devices, of arching water 
 without spilling, and making it rise in several 
 forms, (of feathers, drinking glasses, canopies, 
 and the like,) they be pretty things to look 
 on, but nothing to health and sweetness. 
 
 For the heath, which was the third part of 
 our plot, I wished it to be framed as much as 
 may be to a natural wildness. Trees, I would 
 have none in it, but some thickets made only 
 of sweetbriar and honey-suckle, and some 
 wild vine amongst ; and the ground set with 
 violets, strawberries, and primroses; for 
 these are sweet, and prosper in the shade ; 
 and these are to be in the heath here and 
 there, not in any order. I like also little 
 heaps, in the nature of mole-hiils, (^such as 
 are in wild heaths,) to be set, some with wild 
 thyme, some with pinks, some with german- 
 der, that gives a good flower to the eye ; some 
 with periwinkle, some with violets, some with 
 strawberries, some with cowslips, some with 
 daisies, some with red roses, some with lilium 
 convallium, some with sweet-williams red, seme 
 with bear's-foot, and the like low flowers, 
 being withal sweet and sightly: part of 
 which heaps to be with standaids of little 
 bushes pricked upon their top, and part 
 without: the standards to be roses, juniper, 
 holly, berberries, (but here and there because 
 
OF GARDENS. 179 
 
 of the smell of their blossoms,) red currants, 
 gooseberries, rosemary, bays, sweetbriar, and 
 such like ; but these standards to be kept with 
 cutting, that they grow not out of course. 
 
 For the side grounds, you are to fill them 
 with variety of alleys, private, to give a full 
 shade ; some of them wheresoever the sun 
 be. You are to frame some uf them likewise 
 for shelter, that, when the wind blows sharp, 
 you may walk as in a gallery : and those 
 alleys must be likewise hedged at both ends 
 to keep out the wind ; and these closer alleys 
 must be ever finely gravelled, and no grass, be- 
 cause of going wet. In many of these alleys, 
 likewise, you are to set fruit-trees of all sorts, 
 as well upon the walls as in ranges ; and this 
 should be generally observed, that the borders 
 wherein you plant your fruit-trees be fair, and 
 large, and low, and not steep ; and set with 
 fine flowers, but thin and sparingly, lest they 
 deceive the trees. At the end of both the 
 side grounds I would have a mount of some 
 pretty height, leaving the wall of the enclo- 
 sure breast-high, to look abroad into the fields. 
 
 For the main garden, I do not deny but 
 there should be some fair alleys ranged on 
 both sides, with fruit-trees, and some pretty 
 tufts of fruit-trees, and arbours with seats, set 
 in some decent order ; but these to be by no 
 means set too thick, but to leave the main gar- 
 den so as it be not close, but the air open and 
 free. For as for shade, I would have you rest 
 upon the alleys of the side grounds, the r e 
 
180 OF NEGOTIATING. 
 
 to walk, if you be disposed, in the heat of 
 the year or day ; but to make account that the 
 main garden is for the more temperate parts 
 of the year, and, in the heat of summer, for 
 the morning and the evening, or overcast 
 days. 
 
 For aviaries, I like them not, except they 
 be of that largeness as they may be turfed, 
 and have living plants and bushes set in them ; 
 that the birds may have more scope and natu- 
 ral nestling, and that no foulness appear on 
 the floor of the aviary. 
 
 So I have made a platform of a princely 
 garden, partly by precept, partly by drawing ; 
 not a model, but some general lines of it ; and 
 in this I have spared for no cost : but it 
 is nothing for great princes, that, for the most 
 part taking advice with workmen, with no 
 less cost set their things together ; and some- 
 times add statues, and such things, for state 
 and magnificence, but nothing to the true 
 pleasure of a garden. 
 
 OF NEGOTIATING. 
 
 It is generally better to deal by speech than 
 by letter; and by the mediation of a third 
 than by a man's self. Letters are good, when 
 a man would draw an answer by letter back 
 again ; or when it may serve for a man's jus- 
 tification afterwards to produce his own letter ; 
 or where it may be in danger L .o >e interrupted 
 
OF NEGOTIATING. 1S1 
 
 or heard by pieces. To deal in person is 
 good, when a man's face breedeth regard, as 
 commonly with inferiors ; or in tender cases, 
 where a man's eye upon the countenance of 
 him with whom he speaketh, may give him a 
 direction how far to go ; and, generally, where 
 a man will reserve to himself liberty, either 
 to disavow or expound. In choice of instru- 
 ments, it is better to choose men of a plainer 
 sort, that are like to do that that is committed 
 to them, and to report back again faithfully 
 the success, than those that are cunning to 
 contrive out of other men's business some- 
 what to grace themselves, and will help the 
 matter in report, for satisfaction sake. Use 
 also such persons as effect the business where- 
 in they are employed, for that quiekeneth 
 much ; and such as are fit for the matter, as 
 bold men for expostulation, fair-spoken men 
 for persuasion, crafty men for inquiry ana ob- 
 servation, froward and absurd men for busi- 
 ness that doth not well bear out itself. Use 
 also such as have been lucky, and prevailed 
 before in things wherein you have employed 
 them ; for that breeds confidence, and they 
 will strive to maintain their prescription. It 
 is better to sound a person w : th whom one 
 deals afar off, than to fall upon the point at 
 first; except you mean to surprise him by 
 some short question. It is better dealing with 
 men in appetite, than with those that are where 
 they would be. If a man dual with another 
 upon conditions, the start of first performance is 
 16 
 
182 OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS. 
 
 all : which a man cannot reasonably demand, 
 except either the nature of the thing be such 
 which must go before; or else a man can 
 persuade the other party, that he shall still 
 need him in some other thing ; or else that he 
 be counted the honester man. All practice is 
 to discover, or to work. Men discover them- 
 selves in trust,- in passion, at unawares ; and 
 of necessity, when they would have somewhat 
 done, and cannot find an apt pretext. If you 
 would work any man, you must either know 
 his nature or fashions, and so lead him ; or his 
 ends, and so persuade him ; cr his weakness 
 and disadvantages, and so awe him ; or those 
 that have interest in him, and so govern him. 
 In dealing with cunning persons, we must 
 ever consider their ends to interpret their 
 speeches ; and it is good to say little to them, 
 and that which they least look for. In all ne- 
 gotiations of difficulty, a man may not look to 
 sow and reap at once ; but must prepare busi- 
 ness, and so ripen it by degrees. 
 
 OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS. 
 
 Costly followers are not to be liked ; lest, 
 while a man maketh his train longer, he make 
 his wings shorter. I reckon to be costly, not 
 them alone which charge the purse, but which 
 are wearisome and importune in suits. Ordi- 
 nary followers ought to challenge no higher 
 conditions than countenance, recommendation, 
 
OP FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS. 183 
 
 and protection from wrongs. Factious fol- 
 lowers are worse to be liked, which follow 
 not upon affection to him, with whom they 
 range themselves, but upon discontentment 
 conceived against some other; whereupon 
 commonly ensueth that ill intelligence that we 
 many times see between great personages. 
 Likewise glorious followers, who make them- 
 selves as trumpets of the commendation of 
 those they follow, are full of inconvenience, 
 for they taint business through want of secre- 
 cy ; and they export honour from a man, and 
 make him a return in envy. There is a kind 
 of followers, likewise, which are dangerous, 
 being indeed espials ; which inquire the 
 secrets of the house, and bear tales of them 
 to others ; yet such men, many times, are in 
 great favour ; for they are officious, and com- 
 monly exchange tales. The following by 
 certain estates of men, answerable to that 
 which a great man himself professeth, (as of 
 soldiers to him that hath been employed in the 
 wars, and the like,) hath ever been a thing 
 civil, and well taken even in monarchies, so it 
 be without too much pomp or popularity : but 
 the most honourable kind of following is, to 
 be followed as one that apprehendeth to ad- 
 vance virtue and desert in all sorts of persons ; 
 and yet, where there is no eminent odds in 
 sufficiency, it is better to take with the more 
 passable than with the more able ; and, be- 
 sides, to speak truth in base times, active men 
 are of more use than virtuous. It is true, 
 
184 OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS. 
 
 that in government, it is good to use men of 
 one rank equally: for to countenance some 
 extraordinarily, is to make them insolent, and 
 the rest discontent ; because they may claim 
 a due : but contrariwise in favour, to use men 
 with much difference and election is good ; 
 for it maketh the person preferred more thank- 
 ful, and the rest more officious ; because all is 
 of favour. It is good discretion net to make 
 too much of any man at the first ; because one 
 cannot hold out that proportion. To be gov- 
 erned (as we call it) by one is not safe ; for 
 it shows softness, and gives a freedom to 
 scandal and disreputation ; for those that 
 would not censure, or speak ill of a man im- 
 mediately, will talk more boldly of those that 
 are so great with them, and thereby wound 
 their honour ; yet to be distracted with many 
 is worse; for it makes men to be of the last 
 impression, and full of change. To take 
 advice of some few friends is ever honoura- 
 ble ; for lookers-en many times see more than 
 gamesters ; and the vale best discovereth the 
 hill. There is little friendship in the world, 
 and least of all between equals, which was 
 wont to be magnified. That that is, is be- 
 tween superior and inferior, whose fortunes 
 may comprehend the one the other. 
 
OF SUITORS. 185 
 
 OF SUITORS. 
 
 Many ill matters and projects are under- 
 taken ; and private suits do putrefy the public 
 good. Many good matters are undertaken 
 with bad minds ; I mean not only corrupt 
 minds, but crafty minds, that intend not per- 
 formance. Some embrace suits which never 
 mean to deal effectually in them'; but if tlrey 
 see there may be life in the matter, by sotie 
 other mean, they will be content to win a 
 thank, or take a second reward, or, at least, 
 to make use in the mean time of the suitor's 
 hopes. Some take hold of suits only for an 
 occasion to cross some other, or to make an 
 information, whereof they could not otherwise 
 have apt pretext, without care what become 
 of the suit when the turn is served ; or, gen- 
 erally, to make other men's business a kind 
 of entertainment to bring in their own : nay, 
 some undertake suits with a full purpose to let 
 them fall ; to the end to gratify the adverse 
 party or competitor. Surely there is in some 
 sort a right in every suit ; either a right of 
 equity, if it be a suit of controversy; or a 
 right of desert, if it be a suit of petition. If 
 affection lead a man to favour the wrong side 
 in justice, let him rather use his countenance 
 to compound the matter thar to carry it, If 
 affection lead a man to favour he less worthy in 
 desert, let him do it wilhouf depraving or dis- 
 abling the better dese/ ? ir. In suits which & 
 16 * 
 
186 OF SUITORS. 
 
 man doth not well understand, it is good to 
 refer them to some friend of* trust and judg- 
 ment, that may report whether he may deal 
 in them with honour : but let him choose 
 well his referendaries, for else he may be led 
 by the nose. Suitors are so distasted with 
 delays and abuses, that plain dealing in deny- 
 ing to deal in suits at first, ard reporting the 
 success barely, and in challenging no more 
 thanks than one hath deserved, is grown not 
 only honourable, but also gracious. In suits 
 of favour, the first coming ought to take little 
 place ; so far forth consideration may be had 
 of his trust, that if intelligence of the mattei 
 could not otherwise have been had but by him, 
 advantage be not taken of the note, but the 
 party left to his other means ; and in some 
 sort recompensed for his discovery. To be 
 ignorant of the value of a suit is simplicity ; 
 as well to be ignorant of the right thereof is 
 want of conscience. Secrecy in suits is a 
 great mean of obtaining ; for voicing them to 
 be in forwardness may discourage some kind of 
 suitors ; but doth quicken and awake others ; 
 but timing of the suit is the principle ; timing, 
 I say, not only in respect of the person who 
 should grant it, but in respect of those which 
 are like to cross it. Let a man, in the choice 
 of his mean, rather choose the fittest mean 
 than the greatest mean ; and rather them 
 that deal in certain things than those that are 
 general. The reparation of a denial is some- 
 times equal to the first grant, if a man show 
 
OF STUDIES. 187 
 
 himself neither dejected nor discontented. 
 i; Iniquum petas, nt aequum feras," is a good 
 rule, where a man hath strength of favour : 
 but otherwise, a man were better rise in his 
 suit ; for he that would have ventured at first 
 to have lost the suitor, will not, in the conclu- 
 sion, lose both the suitor and his own former 
 favour. Nothing is thought so easy a request 
 to a great person as his letter ; and yet, if it be 
 not in a good cause, it is so much out of his 
 reputation. There are no worse instruments 
 than these general contrivers of suits ; for 
 they are but a kind of poison and infection to 
 public proceeding. 
 
 OF STUDIES. 
 
 Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and 
 for ability. Their chief use for delight is in 
 privateness and retiring ; for ornament, is in 
 discourse ; and for ability, is in the judg- 
 ment and disposition of business ; for expert 
 men can execute, and perhaps judge of pai- 
 ticulars one by one : but the general counsels, 
 and the plots and marshalling of affairs, come 
 best fioin those that are learned. To spend 
 too much time in studies is sloth ; to use them 
 too much for ornament is affectation ; to make 
 judgment wholly by their rules is the humour 
 of a scholar : they perfect nature, and are 
 perfected by experience : for natural abilities* 
 are like natural plants, that need pruning by 
 
188 OP STUDIES. 
 
 study ; and studies themselves do give forth 
 directions too much at large, except they be 
 bounded in by experience. Crafty men con- 
 temn studies, simple men admire, and wise 
 men use them ; for they teach not their own 
 use ; but that is a wisdom without them, and 
 above them, won by observation. Read not 
 to contradict and confute, nor to believe and 
 take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse, 
 but to weigh and consider. Some books are 
 to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some 
 few to be chewed and digested ; that is, some 
 books are to be read only in parts ; others to 
 be read, but not curiously ; and some few to 
 be read wholly, and with diligence and atten 
 tion. Some books also may be read by dep- 
 uty, and extracts made of them by others; 
 but that would be only in the less important 
 arguments, and the meaner sort of books ; 
 else distilled books are, like common distilled 
 waters, flashy things. Reading maketh a full 
 man ; conference a ready man ; and writing an 
 exact man ; and, therefore, if a man write lit- 
 tte, he had need have a great memory : if he 
 confer little, he had need have a present wit : 
 and if he read little, he had need have much 
 cunning, to seem to know that he doth not. 
 Histories make men wise ; poets witty ; the 
 mathematics subtile ; natural philosophy deep ; 
 moral, grave ; logic and rhetoric, able to con- 
 tend ; " Abeunt studia in mores ;" nay, there 
 ik no stand or impediment in the wit, but may 
 be wrought out by fit studies : like as diseases 
 
OF PACTION. 189 
 
 of the body may have appropriate exercises ; 
 bowling is good for the stone and reins, shoot- 
 ing for the lungs and breast, gentle walking 
 for the stomach., riding for the head, and the 
 like ; so, if a man's wits be wandering, let 
 him study the mathematics, for in demonstra- 
 tions, if his wit be called away never so little, 
 he must begin again ; if his wit be not apt to 
 distinguish or find differences, let him study 
 the schoolmen, for they are u Cymini sec- 
 tores;" if he be not apt to beat over matters, 
 ' and to call upon one thing to prove and illus- 
 trate another, let him study the lawyers- cases ; 
 so every delect of the mind may have a spe- 
 cial receipt. 
 
 OF FACTION. 
 
 Many have an opinion not wise, that for a 
 prince to govern his estate, or for a great per- 
 son to govern his proceedings, according to 
 the respect to factions, is a principal part of 
 policy ; whereas, contrariwise, the chiefest 
 wisdom is, either in ordering those things 
 which are general, and wherein men of several 
 factions do nevertheless agree, or in dealing 
 with correspondence to particular persons, one 
 by one : but I say not, that the consideration 
 of factions is to be neglected. Mean men, in 
 their rising, must adhere ; but great men, that 
 have strength in themselves, were better to 
 maintain themselves indifferent and neutral : 
 yet even in beginners, to adhere so moderately, 
 
190 OF FACTION. 
 
 as he be a man of the one faction, which is 
 most pa-ssable with the other, commonly giveth 
 best way. The lower and weaker faction is 
 the firmer in conjunction ; and it is often seen 
 that a few that are stiff do tire out a greater 
 number that are more moderate. When one 
 of the factions is extinguished, the remaining 
 subdivideth ; as the faction between Lucullus 
 and the rest of the nobles of the senate 
 (which they called " optimates") held out 
 awhile against the faction of Pompey and 
 Csesar ; but when the senate's authority was 
 pulled down, Csesar and Pompey soon after 
 brake. The faction or party of Antonius and 
 Octavianus Caesar, against Brutus and Cassius, 
 held out likewise for a time ; but when Brutus 
 and Cassius were overthrown, then soon after 
 Antonius and Octavianus brake and subdivided. 
 These examples are of wars, but the same 
 holdeth in private factions : and, therefore, 
 those that are seconds in factions, do many 
 times, when the faction subdivideth, prove 
 principals ; but many times also they prove 
 ciphers and cashiered ; for many a man's 
 strength is in opposition ; and when that fail- 
 eth, he groweth out of use. It is commonly 
 seen that men once placed, take in with the 
 contrary faction to that by which they enter 
 thinking, belike, that they have their first sure, 
 and now are ready for a new purchase. The 
 traitor in faction lightly goeth away with it, for 
 when matters have stuck long in balancing, 
 the winning of some one man casteth them, 
 
OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS. 191 
 
 and he gettetli all the thanks. The even car- 
 riage between two factions proceedeth not 
 always of moderation, but of a trueness to a 
 man's self, with end to make use of both. 
 Certainly, in Italy, they hold it a little suspect 
 in popes, when they have often in their mouth 
 " Padre commune :" and take it to be a sign 
 of one that meaneth to refer all to the great- 
 ness of his own house. Kings had need be- 
 ware how they side themselves, and make 
 themselves as of a faction or party ; for leagues 
 within the state are ever pernicious to monar- 
 chies ; for they raise an obligation paramount 
 to obligation of sovereignty, and make the 
 king " tanquam unus ex nobis ;" as was to be 
 seen in the league of France. When factions 
 are carried too high and too violently, it is a 
 sign of weakness in princes, and much to the 
 prejudice both of their authority and business. 
 The motions of factions under kings ought to 
 be like the motions (as the astronomers speak) 
 of the inferior orbs, which may have their 
 proper motions, but yet still are quietly carried 
 by the higher motion of "primum mobile." 
 
 OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS. 
 
 He that is only real had need have exceed- 
 ing great parts of virtue ; as the stone had 
 need to be rich that is set without foil : but if 
 a man mark it well, it Is in praise and commen- 
 dation of men, as it is in gettings and gains ■ 
 
192 OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS. 
 
 for the proverb is true, " that light gains make 
 heavy purses ;" for light gains come thick, 
 whereas great come but now and then : so it 
 is true, that small matters win great commen- 
 dation, because they are continually in use and 
 in note : whereas the occasion of any great 
 virtue cometh but on festivals : therefore it 
 doth much add to a man's reputation, and is 
 (as queen Isabella said) like perpetual letters 
 commendatory, to have good forms : to attain 
 them, it almost sufficeth not to despise them ; 
 for so shall a man observe them in others ; and 
 let him trust himself with the rest ; for if he 
 labour too much to express them, he shall lose 
 their grace ; which is to be natural and unaf- 
 fected. Some men's behaviour is like a verse, 
 wherein every syllable is measured ; how can 
 a man comprehend great matters that breaketb 
 his mind too much to small observations ? 
 Not to use ceremonies at all, is to teach oth- 
 ers not to use them again ; and so diminisheth 
 respect to himself; especially they are not to 
 be omitted to strangers and formal natures : 
 but the dwelling upon them, and exalting them 
 above the moon, is not only tedious, but doth 
 diminish the faith and credit of him that 
 speaks : and, certainly, there is a kind of con- 
 veying of effectual and imprinting passages 
 amongst compliments, which is of singular 
 use 9 if a man can hit upon it. Amongst a 
 man's peers, a man shall be sure of familiarity ; 
 and therefore it is good a little to keep state : 
 amongst a man's inferiors, one shall be sure 
 
 
OF PRAISE. 193 
 
 of reverence ; and therefore it is good a little 
 to be familiar. He that is too much in any 
 thing, so that he giveth another occasion of 
 society, maketh himself cheap. To apply 
 one's self to others is good ; so it be with demon- 
 stration, that a man doth it upon regard, ana 
 not upon facility. It is a good precept, gener- 
 ally, in seconding another, yet to add some- 
 what of one's own : as if you will grant his 
 opinion, let it be with some distinction ; if 
 you will follow his motion, let it be with con- 
 dition ; if you allow his counsel, let it be wit' 
 alleging farther reason. Men had need be- 
 ware how they be too. perfect in compliments ; 
 for, be they never so sufficient otherwise, their 
 enviers will be sure to give them that attribute, 
 to the disadvantage of their greater virtues. 
 It is loss also in business to be too full of re- 
 spects, or to be too curious in observing times 
 and opportunities. Solomon saith, " He that 
 considereth the wind shall not sow, and he 
 that looketh to the clouds shall not reap." A 
 wise man will make more opportunities than 
 he finds. Men's behaviour should be like 
 their apparel, not too strait or point device, but 
 free for exercise or motion. 
 
 OF FRAISE. 
 
 Praise is the reflection of virtue, but it is 
 as the glass, or body which giveth the reflec 
 W 
 
194 OF PRAISE. 
 
 tion ; if it be from the common people, it is 
 commonly false and nought ; and rather fol- 
 loweth vain persons than virtuous : for the 
 common people understand not many excel- 
 lent virtues : the lowest virtues draw praise 
 from them, the middle virtues work in them 
 astonishment or admiration ; but of the high- 
 est virtues they have no sense or perceiving 
 at all; but shows and "species virtutibus 
 similes" serve best with them. Certainly, 
 fame is like a river, that beareth up things 
 light and swollen, and drowns things weighty 
 and solid ; but if persons of quality and judg- 
 ment concur, then it is, (as the scripture saith,) 
 " Nomen bonum instar unguenti fragrantis;" 
 it filleth all round about, and will not easily 
 away ; for the odours of ointments are more 
 durable than those of flowers. There be so 
 many false points of praise, that a man may 
 justly hold it in suspect. Some praises pro- 
 ceed merely of flattery ; and if he be an ordi- 
 nary flatterer, he will have certain common 
 attributes, which may serve every man ; if he 
 be a cunning flatterer, he will follow the arch 
 flatterer, which is a man's self, and wherein a 
 man thinketh best of himself, therein the flat- 
 terer will uphold him most ; but if he be an 
 impudent flatterer, look wherein a man is con- 
 scious to himself that he is most defective, and 
 is most out of countenance in himself, that 
 will the flatterer entitle him to perforce, 
 " Spreta conscientia." Some praises come of 
 
OF TRAISE. 195 
 
 good wishes and respects, which is a form due 
 in civility to kings and great persons, 4S lau- 
 dando praecipere ;" when, by telling men what 
 they are, they represent to them what they 
 should be : some men are praised maliciously 
 to their hurt, thereby to stir envy and jealousy 
 towards them ; " pessimum genus inimicorum 
 laudantium ;" insomuch as it was a proverb 
 amongst the Grecians, that " he that was 
 praised to his hurt should have a push rise 
 upon his nose ;" as we say, that a blister will 
 rise upon one's tongue that tells a lie ; cer- 
 tainly, moderate praise, used with opportunity, 
 and not vulgar, is that which doth the good. 
 Solomon saith, " He that praiseth his friend 
 aloud, rising early, it shall be to him no better 
 than a curse." Too much magnifying of 
 man or matter doth irritate contradiction, and 
 procure envy and scorn. To praise a man's 
 self cannot be decent, except it be in rare 
 cases ; but to praise a man's office or profes 
 sion, he may do it with good grace, and with 
 a kind of magnanimity. The cardinals of 
 Rome, which are theologues, and friars, and 
 schoolmen, have a phrase of notable contempt 
 and scorn towards civil business ; for they call 
 all temporal business of wars, embassages, 
 judicature, and other employments, sherrerie, 
 which is under sherifferies, as if they were but 
 matters for under sheriffs and catchpoles ; 
 though many times those under sherifTeries do 
 more good than their high speculations. St 
 
196 OF VAINGLORY. 
 
 Paul, when he boasts of himself, doth oft 
 interlace, " I speak like a fool;" but, speaking 
 of his calling, he saith, " magnificabo aposto- 
 latum meum." 
 
 OF VAINGLORY. 
 
 It was prettily devised of iEsop, the fly sat 
 upon the axie+ree of the chariot wheel, and 
 said, " What a dust do I raise !" So are there 
 some vain persons, that, whatsoever goeth 
 alone, or moveth upon greater means, if they 
 have never so little hand in it, they think it is 
 they that carry it. They that are glorious 
 must needs be factious ; for all bravery stands 
 upon comparisons. They must needs be vio- 
 lent to make good their own vaunts ; neither 
 can they be secret, and therefore not effectual ; 
 but, according to the French proverb, " beau- 
 coup de bruits pen de fruit ;"- — " much bruit, 
 little fruit." Yet, certainly, there is use of this 
 qnality in civil affairs : where there is an 
 opinion and fame to be created, either of virtue 
 or greatness, these men are good trumpeters. 
 Asgain, as Titus Livius noteth, in the case of 
 Antiochus and the iEtolians, there are some- 
 times great effects of cross lies : as if a man 
 that negotiates between two princes, to draw 
 them to join in a war against a third, doth extol 
 the forces of either of them above measure, 
 the one to the other : and sometimes he that 
 deals between man and man raiseth his own 
 
OF VAINGLORY. 197 
 
 credit with both, by pretending greater inter- 
 est than he hath in either : and in these, and 
 the like kinds, it often fails out, that somewhat 
 is produced of nothing ; for lies are sufficient 
 to breed opinion, and opinion brings on sub- 
 stance. In military commanders and soldiers, 
 vainglory is an essential point; for as iron 
 sharpens iron, so by glory one courage sharp- 
 eneth another. In cases of great enterprise 
 upon charge and adventure, a composition of 
 glorious natures doth put life into business ; 
 and those that are of solid and sober natures 
 have more of the ballast than of the sail. In 
 fame of learning the flight will be slow with- 
 out some feathers of ostentation : " Qui de 
 contemnenda gloria libros scribunt, nomen 
 suum inscribunt." Socrates, Aristotle, Galen, 
 were men full of ostentation : certainly, vain- 
 glory heipeth to perpetuate a man's memory ; 
 and virtue was never so beholden to human 
 nature, as it received its due at the second 
 hand. Neither had the fame of Cicero, Sen- 
 eca, Plinius Secundus, borne her age so well, 
 if it had not been joined with some vanity in 
 themselves; like unto varnish, that makes 
 ceilings not only shine but last. But all this 
 while, when I speak of vainglory, I mean not 
 of that property that Tacitus doth attribute to 
 Mucianus, " Omnium, quae dixeiat feceratque, 
 arte quadam ostentator :" for that proceeds 
 not of vanity, but of natural magnanimity and 
 discretion ; and, in some persons, is not only 
 comely, but gracious : for excusations, ces- 
 17* 
 
198 OF HONOUR AND REPUTATION* 
 
 sions, modesty itself, well governed, are but 
 arts of ostentation; and amongst those arts 
 there is none better than that which Plinius 
 Secundus speakeih of, which is to be liberal 
 of praise and commendation to others, in that 
 wherein a man's self hath any perfection : for, 
 saith Pliny, very wittingly, u In commending 
 another you do yourself right; 5 ' for he thaf 
 you commend is either superior to you in that 
 you commend, or inferior; if he be inferior, 
 if he be to be commended, you much more ; 
 if he be superior, if he be not to be com- 
 mended, you much less. Vainglorious men 
 are the scorn of wise men, the admiration of 
 fools, the idols of parasites, and the slaves of 
 their own vaunts. 
 
 OF HONOUR AND REPUTATION. 
 
 The winning of honour is but the reveal 
 ing of a man's virtue and worth without disad- 
 vantage ; for some in their actions do woo 
 and affect honour and reputation ; which sort 
 of men are commonly much talked of, but 
 inwardly little admired : and some, contrari- 
 wise, darken their virtue in the show of it; 
 so as they be undervalued in opinion. If a 
 man perform that which hath not been at- 
 tempted before, or attempted and given over, 
 or hath been achieved, but not with so good 
 circumstance, he shall purchase more honour 
 than by affecting a matter of greater difficulty 
 
OP HONOUR AND REPUTATION. 199 
 
 or virtue wherein he is but a follower. If a 
 man so temper his actions, as in some * ue of 
 them he doth content every faction or c ombi 
 nation of people, the music will be the iuller 
 A man is an ill husband of his honour thai 
 entereth into any action, the failing wherein 
 may disgrace him more than the carrying of it 
 through can honour him. Honour that is 
 gained and broken upon another hath the 
 quickest reflection, like diamonds cut with 
 fascets ; and, therefore, let a man contend to 
 excel any competitors of his honour, in out- 
 shooting them, if he can, in their own bow. 
 Discreet followers and servants help much to 
 reputation : u Omnis fama a domesticis ema- 
 nat." Envy, which is the canker of honour, 
 is best distinguished by declaring a man's self 
 in his ends, rather to seek merit than fame ; 
 and by attributing a man's successes rather to 
 divine Providence and felicity than to his own 
 virtue or policy. The true marshalling of the 
 degrees of sovereign honour are these : 5n the 
 first place are u conditores imperiorum," foun 
 ders of states and commonwealths ; such as 
 were Romulus, Cyrus, Caesar, Ottoman, Is- 
 mael : in the second place are " legislatores," 
 lawgivers ; which are also called second foun- 
 ders, or "perpetui principes," because they 
 govern by their ordinances after they are 
 gone ; such were Lycurgus, Solon. Justinian, 
 Edgar, Alphonsus of Castile, the wise, that 
 made the i% Siete patridas :" in the third 
 place are " liberatores," or " salvatores ;" such 
 
200 OP HONOJR AND REPUTATION. 
 
 as compound the long miseries of civil wars, 
 or deliver their countries from servitude of 
 strangers or tyrants ; as Augustus Caesar, Ves- 
 pasianus, Aurelianus, Theodoricus, king Hen- 
 ry the Seventh of England, king Henry the 
 Fourth of France: in the fourth place are 
 " propagatores," or " propugnatores imperii," 
 such as in honourable wars enlarge their ter- 
 ritories, or make noble defence against inva- 
 ders : and, in the last place, are " patres 
 patriae," which reign justly, and make the 
 times good wherein they live ; both which 
 last kinds need no examples, they are in such 
 number. Degrees of honour in subjects are, 
 first, " participes curarum," those upon whom 
 princes do discharge the greatest weight of 
 their affairs ; their right hands, as we may call 
 them : the next are " duces belli," great lead- 
 ers; such as*are princes' lieutenants, and do 
 them notable services in the wars : the third 
 are " gratiosi," favourites ; such as exceed not 
 this scantling, to be solace to the sovereign, 
 and harmless to the people : and the fourth 
 "negotiis pares;" such as have great places 
 under princes, and execute their places with 
 sufficiency. There is an honour, likewise, 
 which may be ranked amongst the greatest, 
 which happeneth rarely; that is, of such as 
 sacrifice themselves to death or danger for the 
 good of their country ; as was M. Regulus, 
 and the two Decii. 
 
OF JUDICATURE. 201 
 
 OF JUDICATURE. 
 
 Judges ought to remember that their office 
 is "jus dicere," end not "jus dare;" to inter- 
 pret law, and not to make law, or give law; 
 else will it be like the authority claimed by 
 the church of Rome, which, under pretext of 
 exposition of scripture, doth not stick to add 
 and alter; and to pronounce that which they 
 do not find, and by show of antiquity to intro- 
 duce novelty. Judges ought to be more learn- 
 ed than witty, more reverend than plausible, 
 and more advised than confident. Above all 
 things, integrity is their portion and propei 
 virtue. " Cursed (saith the law) is he that 
 removeth the landmark." The mislayer of a 
 mere stone is to blame ; but it is the unjust 
 judge that is the capital remover of landmarks, 
 when he defineth amiss of land and property. 
 One foul sentence doth more hurt than many 
 foul examples; for these do but corrupt the 
 stream, the other corrupteth the fountain : so 
 saith Solomon, " Fons turbatus, et vena cor- 
 rupta est Justus cadens in causa sua coram 
 adversario." The office of judges may have 
 reference unto the parties that sue, unto the 
 advocates that plead, unto the clerks and min- 
 isters of justice underneath them, and to the 
 sovereign or state above them. 
 
 First, for the causes or parties that sue. 
 There be (saith the scripture) "that turn 
 judgment into wormwood ;" and surely there 
 
202 OF JUDICATURE. 
 
 be also that turn it into vinegar ; for injustice 
 rnaketh it bitter, and delays make it sour. 
 The principal duty of a judge is to suppress 
 force and fraud ; whereof force is the more 
 pernicious when it is open, and fraud when it 
 is close and disguised. Add thereto conten- 
 tious suits, which ought to be spewed out, as 
 the surfeit of courts. A judge ought to pre- 
 pare his way to a just sentence, as God useth 
 to prepare his way, by raising valleys and 
 taking down hills : so when there appeareth 
 on either side a high hand, violent prosecu- 
 tion, cunning advantages taken, combination, 
 power, great counsel, then is the virtue of a 
 judge seen to make inequality equal ; that he 
 may plant his judgment as upon an even 
 ground. " Qui fortiter emungit, elicit sangui- 
 nem;" and where the wine-press is hard 
 wrought, it yields a harsh wine, that tastes of 
 the grape-stone. Judges must beware of hard 
 constructions, and strain Jd inferences; for 
 there is no worse torture than the torture of 
 laws : especially in case of laws penal, they 
 ought to have care, that that, which was meant 
 for terror, be not turned into rigour : and that 
 they bring not upon the people that shower 
 whereof the scripture speaketh, u Pluet super 
 eos laqueos ; M for penal laws pressed are a 
 shower of snares upon the people : therefore, 
 let penal laws, if they have been sleepers of 
 long, or if they be grown unfit for the present 
 time, be by wise judges confined in the exe- 
 cution : " Judicis officium est, ut res, ita tern 
 
OP JUDICATURE. 203 
 
 pora rerum," &c. In causes of life and death, 
 judges ought (as far as the lawpermitteth) in 
 justice to remember mercy, and to cast a 
 severe eye upon the example, but a merciful 
 eye upon the person. 
 
 Secondly, for the advocates and counsel that 
 plead. Patience and gravity of hearing is an 
 essential part of justice ; and an overspeaking 
 judge is no well-tuned cymbal. It is no 
 grace to a judge first to find that which he 
 might have heard in due time from the ba^ ; 
 or to show quickness of conceit in cutting off 
 evidence or counsel too short, or to prevent 
 information by questions, though pertinent. 
 The parts of a judge in hearing are four : to 
 direct the evidence ; to moderate length, repe- 
 tition, or impertinency of speech ; to recapit- 
 ulate, select, and collate the material points of 
 that which hath been said, and to give the 
 rule, or sentence. Whatsoever is above these 
 is too much, and proceedeth either of glory 
 and willingness to speak, or of impatience 1o 
 hear, or of shortness of memory, or of want of a 
 staid and equal attention. It is a strange thing 
 to see that the boldness of advocates should 
 prevail with judges ; whereas they should im- 
 itate God, in whose seat they sit ; who repress- 
 eth the presumptuous, and giveth grace to 
 the modest : but it is more strange, that judges 
 should have noted favourites, which cannot but 
 cause multiplication of fees, and suspicion of 
 by-ways. There is due from the judge to the 
 advocate some commendation and gracing, 
 
204 OF JUDICATURE. 
 
 where causes are well handled and fair piead- 
 ed, especially towards the side which obtain- 
 eth not: for that upholds in the client the 
 reputation of his counsel, and beats down in 
 him the conceit of his cause. There is like- 
 wise due to the public a civil reprehension of 
 advocates, where there appeareth cunning 
 counsel, gross neglect, slight information, in- 
 discreet pressing, or an overbold defence ; and 
 let not the counsel at the bar chop with the 
 judge, nor wind himself into the handling of 
 the cause anew after the judge hath declared 
 his sentence ; but, on the other side, let not 
 the judge meet the cause half way, nor give 
 occasion to the party to say, his counsel or 
 proofs were not heard. 
 
 Thirdly, for that that concerns clerks and 
 ministers. The place of justice is a hallowed 
 place ; and therefore not only the bench, but 
 the footpace and precincts, and purprise there- 
 of, ought to be preserved without scandal and 
 corruption ; for, certainly, grapes (as the scrip- 
 ture saith) " will not be gathered off thorns 
 and thistle-s;" neither can Justice yield her 
 fruit with sweetness amongst the briers and 
 brambles of catching and pulling clerks and 
 ministers. The attendance of courts is sub- 
 ject to four bad instruments : first, certain per- 
 sons that are sowers of suits, which make the 
 court swell and the country pine : the second 
 sort is of those that engage courts in quarrels 
 of jurisdiction, and are not truly " amici cu- 
 riae," but u parasiti curiae," in puffing a court 
 
OF JUDICATURE. 205 
 
 up beyond her bounds for their own scraps and 
 advantages : the third sort is of those that may 
 be accounted the left hands of courts ; per- 
 sons that are full of nimble and sinister tricks 
 and shifts, whereby they pervert the plain and 
 direct courses of courts, and bring justice into 
 oblique lines and labyrinths : and the fourth 
 is the poller and exacter of fees ; which justi- 
 fies the common resemblance of the courts of 
 justice to the bush, whereunto, while the 
 sheep flies for defence in weather, he is sure 
 to lose part of the fleece. On the other side, 
 an ancient clerk, skilful in precedents, wary 
 in proceeding, and understanding in the busi- 
 ness of the court, is an excellent figure of a 
 court, and doth many times point the way to 
 the judge himself. 
 
 Fourthly, for that which may concern the 
 sovereign and estate. Judges ought, above 
 all, to remember the conclusion of the Roman 
 twelve tables, " Salus populi suprema lex ;" 
 and to know that laws, except they be in 
 order to that end, are but things captious, and 
 oracles not well inspired : therefore it is a 
 happy thing in a state, when kings and states 
 do often consult with judges ; and, again, when 
 judges do often consult with the king and 
 state ; the one, where there is matter of law 
 intervenient in business of state; the other, 
 when there is some consideration of state in- 
 tervenient in matter of law ; for many times 
 the things deduced to judgment may be 
 u meum" and u tuum," when the reason and 
 18 
 
206 OP ANGER. 
 
 consequence thereof may trench to point of 
 estate : I call matter of estate, not only the 
 parts of sovereignty, but whatsoever intro- 
 duced any great alteration or dangerous pre- 
 cedent; or coneerneth manifestly any great 
 portion of people : and let no man weakly 
 conceive, that just laws and true policy have 
 any antipathy ; for they are like the spirits 
 and sinews, that one moves with the other. 
 Let judges also remember, that Solomon's 
 throne was supported by lions on both sides : 
 let them be lions, but yet lions under the 
 throne : being circumspect, that they do not 
 check or oppose any points of sovereignty. 
 Let not judges also be so ignorant of their own 
 right, as to think there is not left them, as a 
 principal part of their office, a wise use and 
 application of laws ; for they may remember 
 what the apostle saith of a greater law than 
 theirs ; " Nos scimus quia lex bona est, modo 
 quis ea utatur legitime.'' 
 
 OF ANGER. 
 
 To seek to extinguish anger utterly is but a 
 bravery of the Stoics. We have better ora- 
 cles : " Be angry, but sin not : let not the sun 
 go down upon your anger." Anger must be 
 limited and confined, both in race and in time. 
 We will first speak how the natural inclina- 
 tion and habit, " to be angry," may be attemper- 
 ed and calmed ; secondly, how the particular 
 
OF ANGER. 207 
 
 •notions of anger may be repressed, or, at 
 least, refrained from doing mischief ; thirdly, 
 how to raise anger, or appease anger in an- 
 other. 
 
 For the first, there is no other way but to 
 meditate and ruminate well upon the effects of 
 anger, how it troubles man's life: and the best 
 time to do this, is to look back upon anger 
 when the fit is thoroughly over. Seneca saith 
 well, " that anger is like rain, which breaks 
 itself upon that it falls." The scripture ex- 
 horteth us u to possess our souls in patience ;" 
 whosoever k out of patience, is out of posses- 
 sion of his soul. Men must not turn bees : 
 
 " Animasqua in vulnere ponunt." 
 
 Anger is certainly a kind of baseness ; as it 
 appears well in the weakness of those subjects 
 in whom it reigns, children, women, old folks, 
 sick folks. Only men must beware that they 
 carry their anger rather with scorn than with 
 fear; so that they may seem rather to be 
 above the injury than below it ; which is a 
 thing easily done, if a man will give law to 
 himself in it. 
 
 For the second point, the causes and mo- 
 tives of anger are chiefly three : first, to be 
 sensible of hurt ; for no man is angry that feels 
 not himself hurt ; and, therefore, tender and 
 delicate persons must needs be oft angry, they 
 have so many things to trouble them, which 
 more robust natures have little sense of : the 
 next is, the apprehension and construction of 
 
208 OP ANGER. 
 
 the injury offered to be, in the circumstances 
 thereof, full of contempt ; for contempt is that 
 which putteth an edge upon anger, as much 
 or more than the hurt itself; and, therefore, 
 when men are ingenious in picking out cir- 
 cumstances of contempt, they do kindle their 
 anger much : lastly, opinion of the touch of a 
 man's reputation doth multiply and sharpen 
 anger ; wherein the remedy is, that a man 
 should have, as Gonsalvo was wont to say, 
 "telam honoris crassiorem." But in all re- 
 frainings of anger, it is the best remedy to win 
 time, and to make a man's self believe that the 
 opportunity of his revenge is not yet come ; 
 but that he foresees a time for it, and so to 
 still himself in the mean time, and reserve it. 
 
 To contain anger from mischief, though it 
 take hold of a man, there be two things 
 whereof you must have special caution : the 
 one of extreme bitterness of words, especially 
 if they be aculeate and proper ; for " comrau- 
 nia maledicta" are nothing so much; and 
 again, that in anger a man reveal no secrets ; 
 for that makes him not fit for society : the 
 other, that you do not peremptorily break off 
 in any business in a fit of anger ; but howso- 
 ever you show bitterness, do not act any thing 
 that is not revocable. 
 
 For raising and appeasiag anger in another, 
 it is done chiefly by choosing of times, when 
 men are frowardest and worst disposed, to in- 
 cense them; again, by gathering (as was 
 touched before) all that you can find out to 
 
OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS. 209 
 
 aggravate the contempt : and the two reme- 
 dies are by the contraries : the former to take 
 good times, when first to relate to a man an 
 angry business, for the first impression is 
 much ; and the other is, to sever, as much as 
 may be, the construction of the injury from the 
 point of contempt ; imputing it to misunder 
 standing, fear, passion, or what you will. 
 
 OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS. 
 
 Solomon saith, " there is no new thing upon 
 the earth :" so that as Plato had an imagina- 
 tion that all knowledge was but remembrance ; 
 so Solomon giveth his sentence, " that all 
 novelty is but oblivion ;" whereby ycu may 
 see, that the river of Lethe runneth as well 
 above ground as below. There is an abstruse 
 astrologer that saith, if it were not for two 
 things that are constant, (the one is, that the 
 fixed stars ever stand at like distance one from 
 another, and never come nearer together, nor 
 go farther asunder ; the other, that the diurnal 
 motion perpetually keepeth time,) no individ- 
 ual would last one moment : certain it is, that 
 matter is in a perpetual flux, and never at a 
 stay. The great winding sheets that bury all 
 things in oblivion are two ; deluges and earth- 
 quakes. As for conflagrations and great 
 droughts, they do not merely dispeople, but 
 destroy. Phaeton's car went but a day ; and 
 the three years' drought, in the time of Elias. 
 X 
 
210 OF VICISSITUDE OP THINGS. 
 
 was but particular, and left people alive. As 
 for the great burnings by lightnings, which are 
 often in the West Indies, they are but narrow ; 
 but in the other two destructions, by deluge 
 and earthquake, it is farther to be noted, 
 that the remnant of people which happen 
 to be reserved are commonly ignorant and 
 mountainous people, that can give no accoup* 
 of the time past ; so that the oblivion is all on 
 as if none had been left. If you consider 
 well of the people of the West Indies, it is 
 very probable that they are a newer or a 
 younger people than the people of the old 
 world ; and it is much more likely that the 
 destruction that hath heretofore been there, 
 was not by earthquakes, (as the ^Egyptian 
 priest told Solon, concerning the island of At- 
 lantis, that it was swallowed by an earthquake,) 
 but rather that it was desolated by a particular 
 deluge : for earthquakes are seldom in those 
 parts : but on the other side, they have such 
 pouring rivers, as the rivers of Asia and Africa 
 and Europe are but brooks to them. Their 
 Andes, likewise, or mountains, are far higher 
 than those with us ; whereby it seems, that 
 the remnants of generations of men were in 
 such a particular deluge saved. As for the 
 observation that Machiavel hath, that the 
 jealousy of sects doth much extinguish the 
 memory of things; traducing Gregory the 
 Great, that he did what in him lay to extin- 
 guish all heathen antiquities; I do not find 
 that those zeals do any great effects, nor last 
 
OF VICISSITUDE OF THiNGS. 211 
 
 long ; as it appeared in the succession of 
 Sabinian, who did revive the former anti- 
 quities. 
 
 The vicissitude, or mutations, in the supe- 
 rior globe are no fit matter for this present 
 argument. It may be Plato's great year, if 
 the world should last so long, would have some 
 effect, not in renewing the state of like indi- 
 viduals, (for that is the fume of those thai 
 conceive the celestial bodies have more accu- 
 rate influences upon these things below than 
 indeed they have,) but in gross. Comets, out 
 of question, have likewise power and effect 
 over the gross and mass of things : but they 
 are rather gazed upon, and waited upon in 
 their journey, than wisely observed in theii 
 effects ; especially in their respective effects ; 
 that is, what kinS of comet for magnitude, 
 colour, version of the beams, placing in the 
 region of heaven, or lasting, produceth what 
 kind of effects. 
 
 There is a toy, which I have heard, and I 
 would not have it given over, but waited upon 
 a little. They say it is observed in the Low 
 Countries, (I know not in what part,) that 
 every five-and-thirty years the same kind and 
 suit of years and weathers come about again ; 
 as great frosts, great wet, great droughts, warm 
 winters, summers with little heat, and the like ; 
 and they call it the prime : it is a thing I do 
 the rather mention, because, computing back- 
 wards, I have found some concurrence. 
 
212 OF VICISSITUDE OP THINGS. 
 
 But to leave these points of nature, and to 
 come to men. The great vicissitude of things 
 amongst men is the vicissitude of sects and 
 religions ; for those orbs rule in men's minds 
 most. The true religion is built upon the 
 rock ; the rest are tossed upon the waves of 
 time. To speak, therefore, of the causes of 
 new sects, and to give some counsel concern- 
 ing them, as far as the weakness of human 
 judgment can give stay to so great revolutions. 
 
 When the religion formerly received is rent 
 by discords, and when the holiness of the pro- 
 fessors of religion is decayed and full of scan- 
 dal, and withal the times be stupid, ignorant, 
 and barbarous, you may doubt the spring- 
 ing up of a new sect : if then, also, there 
 should arise any extravagant and strange spirit 
 to make himself author thereof: all which 
 points held when Mahomet published his law. 
 If a new sect have not two properties, fear it 
 not, for it will not spread : the one is the sup- 
 planting, or the opposing of authority estab- 
 lished ; for nothing is more popular than that ; 
 the other is the giving license to pleasures and 
 a voluptuous life : for as for speculative here- 
 sies, (such as were in ancient times the All- 
 ans, and now the Arminians,) though they 
 work mightily upon men's wits, yet they do 
 not produce any great alteration in states, 
 except it be by the help of civil occasions. 
 There be three manner of plantations of new 
 sects ; by the power of signs and miracles ; 
 
OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS. 213 
 
 by the eloquence and wisdom of speech and 
 persuasion ; and by the sword. For martyr- 
 doms, I reckon them amongst miracles, be- 
 cause they seem to exceed the strength of 
 human nature : and I may do the like of 
 superlative and admirable holiness of life. 
 Surely there is no better way to stop the rising 
 of new sects and schisms than to reform 
 abuses; to compound the smaller diffeiences; 
 to proceed mildly, and not with sanguinary 
 persecutions ; and rather to take off the prin- 
 cipal authors, by winning and advancing them, 
 then to enrage them by violence and bitter- 
 ness. 
 
 The changes and vicissitudes in wars are 
 many, but chiefly in three things; in the 
 seats or stages of the war, in the weapons, and 
 in the manner of the conduct. Wars, in an- 
 cient time, seemed more to move from east to 
 west; for the Persians, Assyrians, Arabians, 
 Tartars, (which were the invaders,) were all 
 eastern people. It is true, the Gauls were 
 western ; but we read but of two incursions 
 of theirs ; the one to Gallo-Graecia, the other 
 to Rome : but east and west have no certain 
 points of heaven ; and no more have the wars, 
 either from the east or west, any certainty of 
 observation : but north ana south are fixed ; 
 and it hath seldom or never been seen that the 
 far southern people have invaded the north- 
 ern, but contrariwise ; whereby it is manifest 
 that the northern tract of the world is in na- 
 ture the more martial region : be it in respect 
 
214 OP VICISSITUDE OF THINGS. 
 
 of the stars of that hemisphere, or of the great 
 continents that are upon the north ; whereas 
 the south part, for aught that is known, is 
 almost all sea ; or (which is most apparent) 
 of the cold of the northern parts, which is that 
 which, without aid of discipline, doth make the 
 bodies hardest, and the courage warmest. 
 
 Upon the breaking and shivering of a great 
 state and empire, you may be sure to have 
 wars ; for great empires, while they stand, du 
 enervate and destroy the forces of the natives 
 which they have subdued, resting upon their 
 own protecting forces ; and then, when they 
 fail also, all goes to ruin, and they become a 
 prey ; so it was in the decay of the Roman 
 empire, and likewise in the empire of Al- 
 maigne, after Charles the Great, every bird 
 taking a feather ; and were not unlike to be- 
 fall to Spain if it should break. The great ac- 
 cessions and unions of kingdoms do likewise 
 stir up wars : for when a state grows to an 
 overpower, it is like a great flood that will be 
 sure to overflow ; as it hath been seen in the 
 states of Rome, Turkey, Spain, and others. 
 Look when the world hath fewest barbarous 
 people, but such as commonly will not marry, 
 or generate, except they know means to live, 
 (as it is almost every where at this day, ex- 
 cept Tartary,) there is no danger of inunda- 
 tions of people: but when there be great 
 shoals of people which go on to populate, 
 without foreseeing means of life and sustenta- 
 tion, it is of necessity that once in an age or 
 
OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS. 215 
 
 two they discharge a portion of their people 
 upon other nations, which the ancient north- 
 ern people were wont to do by lot ; casting 
 lots what part should stay at home, and what 
 should seek their fortunes. When a warlike 
 state grows soft and effeminate, they may be 
 sure of a war : for commonly such states are 
 grown rich in the time of their degenerating ; 
 and so the prey inviteth, and their decay in 
 valour encourageth a war. 
 
 As for the weapons, it hardly falleth under 
 rule and observation : yet we see even they 
 have returns and vicissitudes ; for certain it is, 
 that ordnance was known in the city of Oxy- 
 draces, in India; and was that which the 
 Macedonians called thunder and lightning, 
 and magic ; and it is well known that the use 
 of ordnance hath been in China above two 
 thousand years. The conditions of weapons, 
 and their improvements are, first, the fetching 
 afar off; for that outruns the danger, as it is 
 seen in ordnance and muskets : secondly, the 
 strength of the percussion ; wherein likewise 
 ordnance do exceed all arietations and ancient 
 inventions : the third is, the commodious use of 
 them ; as that they may serve in all weathers, 
 that the carriage may be light and manageable, 
 and the like. 
 
 For the conduct of the war : at the first, 
 men rested extremely upon number ; they did 
 put the wars likewise upon main force and 
 valour, pointing days for pitched fields, and so 
 trying it out upon an even match ; and thev 
 
216 OP FAME. 
 
 were more ignorant in ranging and arraying 
 their battles. After they grew to rest upon 
 number, rather competent than vast, they 
 grew to advantages of place, cunning diver- 
 sions, and the like; and they grew more skil- 
 ful in the ordering of their battles. 
 
 In the youth of a state arms do flourish ; in 
 the middle age of a state, learning ; and then 
 both of them together for a time ; in the de- 
 clining age of a state, mechanical arts and 
 merchandise. Learning hath its infancy, when 
 it is but beginning, and almost childish ; then 
 its youth, when it is luxuriant and juvenile ; 
 then its strength of years, when it is solid 'and 
 reduced; and, lastly, its old age, when it 
 waxeth dry and exhaust ; but it is not good 
 to look too long upon these turning wheels of 
 vicissitude, lest we become giddy : as for the 
 philology of them, that is but a circle of tales, 
 and therefore not fit for this writing. 
 
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