part I

think more proper to handle when I shall speak of rhetoric.

(9) But lastly, there is yet a much more important and profound kind of fallacies in the mind of man, which I find not observed or inquired at all, and think good to place here, as that which of all others appertaineth most to rectify judgment, the force whereof is such as it doth not dazzle or snare the understanding in some particulars, but doth more generally and inwardly infect and corrupt the state thereof. For the mind of man is far from the nature of a clear and equal glass, wherein the beams of things should reflect according to their true incidence; nay, it is rather like an enchanted glass, full of superstition and imposture, if it be not delivered and reduced. For this purpose, let us consider the false appearances that are imposed upon us by the general nature of the mind, beholding them in an example or two; as first, in that instance which is the root of all superstition, namely, that to the nature of the mind of all men it is consonant for the affirmative or active to affect more than the negative or privative. So that a few times hitting or presence countervails ofttimes failing or absence, as was well answered by Diagoras to him that showed him in Neptune’s temple the great number of pictures of such as had escaped shipwreck, and had paid their vows to Neptune, saying, “Advise now, you that think it folly to invocate Neptune in tempest.” “Yea, but,” saith Diagoras, “where are they painted that are drowned?” Let us behold it in another instance, namely, that the spirit of man, being of an equal and uniform substance, doth usually suppose and feign in nature a greater equality and uniformity than is in truth. Hence it cometh that the mathematicians cannot satisfy themselves except they reduce the motions of the celestial bodies to perfect circles, rejecting spiral lines, and labouring to be discharged of eccentrics. Hence it cometh that whereas there are many things in Nature as it were _monodica_, _sui juris_, yet the cogitations of man do feign unto them relatives, parallels, and conjugates, whereas no such thing is; as they have feigned an element of fire to keep square with earth, water, and air, and the like. Nay, it is not credible, till it be opened, what a number of fictions and fantasies the similitude of human actions and arts, together with the making of man _communis mensura_, have brought into natural philosophy; not much better than the heresy of the Anthropomorphites, bred in the cells of gross and solitary monks, and the opinion of Epicurus, answerable to the same in heathenism, who supposed the gods to be of human shape. And, therefore, Velleius the Epicurean needed not to have asked why God should have adorned the heavens with stars, as if He had been an _ædilis_, one that should have set forth some magnificent shows or plays. For if that great Work-master had been of a human disposition, He would have cast the stars into some pleasant and beautiful works and orders like the frets in the roofs of houses; whereas one can scarce find a posture in square, or triangle, or straight line, amongst such an infinite number, so differing a harmony there is between the spirit of man and the spirit of Nature.

(10) Let us consider again the false appearances imposed upon us by every man’s own individual nature and custom in that feigned supposition that Plato maketh of the cave; for certainly if a child were continued in a grot or cave under the earth until maturity of age, and came suddenly abroad, he would have strange and absurd imaginations. So, in like manner, although our persons live in the view of heaven, yet our spirits are included in the caves of our own complexions and customs, which minister unto us infinite errors and vain opinions if they be not recalled to examination. But hereof we have given many examples in one of the errors, or peccant humours, which we ran briefly over in our first book.

(11) And lastly, let us consider the false appearances that are imposed upon us by words, which are framed and applied according to the conceit and capacities of the vulgar sort; and although we think we govern our words, and prescribe it well _loquendum ut vulgus sentiendum ut sapientes_, yet certain it is that words, as a Tartar’s bow, do shoot back upon the understanding of the wisest, and mightily entangle and pervert the judgment. So as it is almost necessary in all controversies and disputations to imitate the wisdom of the mathematicians, in setting down in the very beginning the definitions of our words and terms, that others may know how we accept and understand them, and whether they concur with us or no. For it cometh to pass, for want of this, that we are sure to end there where we ought to have begun, which is, in questions and differences about words. To conclude, therefore, it must be confessed that it is not possible to divorce ourselves from these fallacies and false appearances because they are inseparable from our nature and condition of life; so yet, nevertheless, the caution of them (for all elenches, as was said, are but cautions) doth extremely import the true conduct of human judgment. The particular elenches or cautions against these three false appearances I find altogether deficient.

(12) There remaineth one part of judgment of great excellency which to mine understanding is so slightly touched, as I may report that also deficient; which is the application of the differing kinds of proofs to the differing kinds of subjects. For there being but four kinds of demonstrations, that is, by the immediate consent of the mind or sense, by induction, by syllogism, and by congruity, which is that which Aristotle calleth demonstration in orb or circle, and not _a notioribus_, every of these hath certain subjects in the matter of sciences, in which respectively they have chiefest use; and certain others, from which respectively they ought to be excluded; and the rigour and curiosity in requiring the more severe proofs in some things, and chiefly the facility in contenting ourselves with the more remiss proofs in others, hath been amongst the greatest causes of detriment and hindrance to knowledge. The distributions and assignations of demonstrations according to the analogy of sciences I note as deficient.

XV. (1) The custody or retaining of knowledge is either in writing or memory; whereof writing hath two parts, the nature of the character and the order of the entry. For the art of characters, or other visible notes of words or things, it hath nearest conjugation with grammar, and, therefore, I refer it to the due place; for the disposition and collocation of that knowledge which we preserve in writing, it consisteth in a good digest of common-places, wherein I am not ignorant of the prejudice imputed to the use of common-place books, as causing a retardation of reading, and some sloth or relaxation of memory. But because it is but a counterfeit thing in knowledges to be forward and pregnant, except a man be deep and full, I hold the entry of common-places to be a matter of great use and essence in studying, as that which assureth copy of invention, and contracteth judgment to a strength. But this is true, that of the methods of common-places that I have seen, there is none of any sufficient worth, all of them carrying merely the face of a school and not of a world; and referring to vulgar matters and pedantical divisions, without all life or respect to action.

(2) For the other principal part of the custody of knowledge, which is memory, I find that faculty in my judgment weakly inquired of. An art there is extant of it; but it seemeth to me that there are better precepts than that art, and better practices of that art than those received. It is certain the art (as it is) may be raised to points of ostentation prodigious; but in use (as is now managed) it is barren, not burdensome, nor dangerous to natural memory, as is imagined, but barren, that is, not dexterous to be applied to the serious use of business and occasions. And, therefore, I make no more estimation of repeating a great number of names or words upon once hearing, or the pouring forth of a number of verses or rhymes _extempore_, or the making of a satirical simile of everything, or the turning of everything to a jest, or the falsifying or contradicting of everything by cavil, or the like (whereof in the faculties of the mind there is great copy, and such as by device and practice may be exalted to an extreme degree of wonder), than I do of the tricks of tumblers, funambuloes, baladines; the one being the same in the mind that the other is in the body, matters of strangeness without worthiness.

(3) This art of memory is but built upon two intentions; the one prenotion, the other emblem. Prenotion dischargeth the indefinite seeking of that we would remember, and directeth us to seek in a narrow compass, that is, somewhat that hath congruity with our place of memory. Emblem reduceth conceits intellectual to images sensible, which strike the memory more; out of which axioms may be drawn much better practice than that in use; and besides which axioms, there are divers more touching help of memory not inferior to them. But I did in the beginning distinguish, not to report those things deficient, which are but only ill managed.

XVI. (1) There remaineth the fourth kind of rational knowledge, which is transitive, concerning the expressing or transferring our knowledge to others, which I will term by the general name of tradition or delivery. Tradition hath three parts: the first concerning the organ of tradition; the second concerning the method of tradition; and the third concerning the illustration of tradition.

(2) For the organ of tradition, it is either speech or writing; for Aristotle saith well, “Words are the images of cogitations, and letters are the images of words.” But yet it is not of necessity that cogitations be expressed by the medium of words. For whatsoever is capable of sufficient differences, and those perceptible by the sense, is in nature competent to express cogitations. And, therefore, we see in the commerce of barbarous people that understand not one another’s language, and in the practice of divers that are dumb and deaf, that men’s minds are expressed in gestures, though not exactly, yet to serve the turn. And we understand further, that it is the use of China and the kingdoms of the High Levant to write in characters real, which express neither letters nor words in gross, but things or notions; insomuch as countries and provinces which understand not one another’s language can nevertheless read one another’s writings, because the characters are accepted more generally than the languages do extend; and, therefore, they have a vast multitude of characters, as many, I suppose, as radical words.

(3) These notes of cogitations are of two sorts: the one when the note hath some similitude or congruity with the notion; the other _ad placitum_, having force only by contract or acceptation. Of the former sort are hieroglyphics and gestures. For as to hieroglyphics (things of ancient use and embraced chiefly by the Egyptians, one of the most ancient nations), they are but as continued impresses and emblems. And as for gestures, they are as transitory hieroglyphics, and are to hieroglyphics as words spoken are to words written, in that they abide not; but they have evermore, as well as the other, an affinity with the things signified. As Periander, being consulted with how to preserve a tyranny newly usurped, bid the messenger attend and report what he saw him do; and went into his garden and topped all the highest flowers, signifying that it consisted in the cutting off and keeping low of the nobility and grandees. _Ad placitum_, are the characters real before mentioned, and words: although some have been willing by curious inquiry, or rather by apt feigning, to have derived imposition of names from reason and intendment; a speculation elegant, and, by reason it searcheth into antiquity, reverent, but sparingly mixed with truth, and of small fruit. This portion of knowledge touching the notes of things and cogitations in general, I find not inquired, but deficient. And although it may seem of no great use, considering that words and writings by letters do far excel all the other ways; yet because this part concerneth, as it were, the mint of knowledge (for words are the tokens current and accepted for conceits, as moneys are for values, and that it is fit men be not ignorant that moneys may be of another kind than gold and silver), I thought good to propound it to better inquiry.

(4) Concerning speech and words, the consideration of them hath produced the science of grammar. For man still striveth to reintegrate himself in those benedictions, from which by his fault he hath been deprived; and as he hath striven against the first general curse by the invention of all other arts, so hath he sought to come forth of the second general curse (which was the confusion of tongues) by the art of grammar; whereof the use in a mother tongue is small, in a foreign tongue more; but most in such foreign tongues as have ceased to be vulgar tongues, and are turned only to learned tongues. The duty of it is of two natures: the one popular, which is for the speedy and perfect attaining languages, as well for intercourse of speech as for understanding of authors; the other philosophical, examining the power and nature of words, as they are the footsteps and prints of reason: which kind of analogy between words and reason is handled _sparsim_, brokenly though not entirely; and, therefore, I cannot report it deficient, though I think it very worthy to be reduced into a science by itself.

(5) Unto grammar also belongeth, as an appendix, the consideration of the accidents of words; which are measure, sound, and elevation or accent, and the sweetness and harshness of them: whence hath issued some curious observations in rhetoric, but chiefly poesy, as we consider it, in respect of the verse and not of the argument. Wherein though men in learned tongues do tie themselves to the ancient measures, yet in modern languages it seemeth to me as free to make new measures of verses as of dances; for a dance is a measured pace, as a verse is a measured speech. In these things this sense is better judge than the art:

“Cœnæ fercula nostræ Mallem convivis quam placuisse cocis.”

And of the servile expressing antiquity in an unlike and an unfit subject, it is well said, “_Quod tempore antiquum videtur_, _id incongruitate est maxime novum_.”

(6) For ciphers, they are commonly in letters or alphabets, but may be in words. The kinds of ciphers (besides the simple ciphers, with changes, and intermixtures of nulls and non-significants) are many, according to the nature or rule of the infolding, wheel-ciphers, key-ciphers, doubles, &c. But the virtues of them, whereby they are to be preferred, are three; that they be not laborious to write and read; that they be impossible to decipher; and, in some cases, that they be without suspicion. The highest degree whereof is to write _omnia per omnia_; which is undoubtedly possible, with a proportion quintuple at most of the writing infolding to the writing infolded, and no other restraint whatsoever. This art of ciphering hath for relative an art of deciphering, by supposition unprofitable, but, as things are, of great use. For suppose that ciphers were well managed, there be multitudes of them which exclude the decipherer. But in regard of the rawness and unskilfulness of the hands through which they pass, the greatest matters are many times carried in the weakest ciphers.

(7) In the enumeration of these private and retired arts it may be thought I seek to make a great muster-roll of sciences, naming them for show and ostentation, and to little other purpose. But let those, which are skilful in them, judge whether I bring them in only for appearance, or whether in that which I speak of them (though in few words) there be not some seed of proficience. And this must be remembered, that as there be many of great account in their countries and provinces, which, when they come up to the seat of the estate, are but of mean rank and scarcely regarded; so these arts, being here placed with the principal and supreme sciences, seem petty things: yet to such as have chosen them to spend their labours and studies in them, they seem great matters.

XVII. (1) For the method of tradition, I see it hath moved a controversy in our time. But as in civil business, if there be a meeting, and men fall at words, there is commonly an end of the matter for that time, and no proceeding at all; so in learning, where there is much controversy, there is many times little inquiry. For this part of knowledge of method seemeth to me so weakly inquired as I shall report it deficient.

(2) Method hath been placed, and that not amiss, in logic, as a part of judgment. For as the doctrine of syllogisms comprehendeth the rules of judgment upon that which is invented, so the doctrine of method containeth the rules of judgment upon that which is to be delivered; for judgment precedeth delivery, as it followeth invention. Neither is the method or the nature of the tradition material only to the use of knowledge, but likewise to the progression of knowledge: for since the labour and life of one man cannot attain to perfection of knowledge, the wisdom of the tradition is that which inspireth the felicity of continuance and proceeding. And therefore the most real diversity of method is of method referred to use, and method referred to progression: whereof the one may be termed magistral, and the other of probation.

(3) The latter whereof seemeth to be _via deserta et interclusa_. For as knowledges are now delivered, there is a kind of contract of error between the deliverer and the receiver. For he that delivereth knowledge desireth to deliver it in such form as may be best believed, and not as may be best examined; and he that receiveth knowledge desireth rather present satisfaction than expectant inquiry; and so rather not to doubt, than not to err: glory making the author not to lay open his weakness, and sloth making the disciple not to know his strength.

(4) But knowledge that is delivered as a thread to be spun on ought to be delivered and intimated, if it were possible, in the same method wherein it was invented: and so is it possible of knowledge induced. But in this same anticipated and prevented knowledge, no man knoweth how he came to the knowledge which he hath obtained. But yet, nevertheless, _secundum majus et minus_, a man may revisit and descend unto the foundations of his knowledge and consent; and so transplant it into another, as it grew in his own mind. For it is in knowledges as it is in plants: if you mean to use the plant, it is no matter for the roots—but if you mean to remove it to grow, then it is more assured to rest upon roots than slips: so the delivery of knowledges (as it is now used) is as of fair bodies of trees without the roots; good for the carpenter, but not for the planter. But if you will have sciences grow, it is less matter for the shaft or body of the tree, so you look well to the taking up of the roots. Of which kind of delivery the method of the mathematics, in that subject, hath some shadow: but generally I see it neither put in use nor put in inquisition, and therefore note it for deficient.

(5) Another diversity of method there is, which hath some affinity with the former, used in some cases by the discretion of the ancients, but disgraced since by the impostures of many vain persons, who have made it as a false light for their counterfeit merchandises; and that is enigmatical and disclosed. The pretence whereof is, to remove the vulgar capacities from being admitted to the secrets of knowledges, and to reserve them to selected auditors, or wits of such sharpness as can pierce the veil.

(6) Another diversity of method, whereof the consequence is great, is the delivery of knowledge in aphorisms, or in methods; wherein we may observe that it hath been too much taken into custom, out of a few axioms or observations upon any subject, to make a solemn and formal art, filling it with some discourses, and illustrating it with examples, and digesting it into a sensible method. But the writing in aphorisms hath many excellent virtues, whereto the writing in method doth not approach.

(7) For first, it trieth the writer, whether he be superficial or solid: for aphorisms, except they should be ridiculous, cannot be made but of the pith and heart of sciences; for discourse of illustration is cut off; recitals of examples are cut off; discourse of connection and order is cut off; descriptions of practice are cut off. So there remaineth nothing to fill the aphorisms but some good quantity of observation; and therefore no man can suffice, nor in reason will attempt, to write aphorisms, but he that is sound and grounded. But in methods,

“Tantum series juncturaque pollet, Tantum de medio sumptis accedit honoris,”

as a man shall make a great show of an art, which, if it were disjointed, would come to little. Secondly, methods are more fit to win consent or belief, but less fit to point to action; for they carry a kind of demonstration in orb or circle, one part illuminating another, and therefore satisfy. But particulars being dispersed do best agree with dispersed directions. And lastly, aphorisms, representing a knowledge broken, do invite men to inquire further; whereas methods, carrying the show of a total, do secure men, as if they were at furthest.

(8) Another diversity of method, which is likewise of great weight, is the handling of knowledge by assertions and their proofs, or by questions and their determinations. The latter kind whereof, if it be immoderately followed, is as prejudicial to the proceeding of learning as it is to the proceeding of an army to go about to besiege every little fort or hold. For if the field be kept, and the sum of the enterprise pursued, those smaller things will come in of themselves: indeed a man would not leave some important piece enemy at his back. In like manner, the use of confutation in the delivery of sciences ought to be very sparing; and to serve to remove strong preoccupations and prejudgments, and not to minister and excite disputatious and doubts.

(9) Another diversity of method is, according to the subject or matter which is handled. For there is a great difference in delivery of the mathematics, which are the most abstracted of knowledges, and policy, which is the most immersed. And howsoever contention hath been moved, touching a uniformity of method in multiformity of matter, yet we see how that opinion, besides the weakness of it, hath been of ill desert towards learning, as that which taketh the way to reduce learning to certain empty and barren generalities; being but the very husks and shells of sciences, all the kernel being forced out and expulsed with the torture and press of the method. And, therefore, as I did allow well of

## particular topics for invention, so I do allow likewise of particular

methods of tradition.

(10) Another diversity of judgment in the delivery and teaching of knowledge is, according unto the light and presuppositions of that which is delivered. For that knowledge which is new, and foreign from opinions received, is to be delivered in another form than that that is agreeable and familiar; and therefore Aristotle, when he thinks to tax Democritus, doth in truth commend him, where he saith “If we shall indeed dispute, and not follow after similitudes,” &c. For those whose conceits are seated in popular opinions need only but to prove or dispute; but those whose conceits are beyond popular opinions, have a double labour; the one to make themselves conceived, and the other to prove and demonstrate. So that it is of necessity with them to have recourse to similitudes and translations to express themselves. And therefore in the infancy of learning, and in rude times when those conceits which are now trivial were then new, the world was full of parables and similitudes; for else would men either have passed over without mark, or else rejected for paradoxes that which was offered, before they had understood or judged. So in divine learning, we see how frequent parables and tropes are, for it is a rule, that whatsoever science is not consonant to presuppositions must pray in aid of similitudes.

(11) There be also other diversities of methods vulgar and received: as that of resolution or analysis, of constitution or systasis, of concealment or cryptic, &c., which I do allow well of, though I have stood upon those which are least handled and observed. All which I have remembered to this purpose, because I would erect and constitute one general inquiry (which seems to me deficient) touching the wisdom of tradition.

(12) But unto this part of knowledge, concerning method, doth further belong not only the architecture of the whole frame of a work, but also the several beams and columns thereof; not as to their stuff, but as to their quantity and figure. And therefore method considereth not only the disposition of the argument or subject, but likewise the propositions: not as to their truth or matter, but as to their limitation and manner. For herein Ramus merited better a great deal in reviving the good rules of propositions—Καθολον πρωτον, κυτα παντος &c.—than he did in introducing the canker of epitomes; and yet (as it is the condition of human things that, according to the ancient fables, “the most precious things have the most pernicious keepers”) it was so, that the attempt of the one made him fall upon the other. For he had need be well conducted that should design to make axioms convertible, if he make them not withal circular, and non-promovent, or incurring into themselves; but yet the intention was excellent.

(13) The other considerations of method, concerning propositions, are chiefly touching the utmost propositions, which limit the dimensions of sciences: for every knowledge may be fitly said, besides the profundity (which is the truth and substance of it, that makes it solid), to have a longitude and a latitude; accounting the latitude towards other sciences, and the longitude towards action; that is, from the greatest generality to the most particular precept. The one giveth rule how far one knowledge ought to intermeddle within the province of another, which is the rule they call Καθαυτο; the other giveth rule unto what degree of

## particularity a knowledge should descend: which latter I find passed over

in silence, being in my judgment the more material. For certainty there must be somewhat left to practice; but how much is worthy the inquiry? We see remote and superficial generalities do but offer knowledge to scorn of practical men; and are no more aiding to practice than an Ortelius’ universal map is to direct the way between London and York. The better sort of rules have been not unfitly compared to glasses of steel unpolished, where you may see the images of things, but first they must be filed: so the rules will help if they be laboured and polished by practice. But how crystalline they may be made at the first, and how far forth they may be polished aforehand, is the question, the inquiry whereof seemeth to me deficient.

(14) There hath been also laboured and put in practice a method, which is not a lawful method, but a method of imposture: which is, to deliver knowledges in such manner as men may speedily come to make a show of learning, who have it not. Such was the travail of Raymundus Lullius in making that art which bears his name; not unlike to some books of typocosmy, which have been made since; being nothing but a mass of words of all arts, to give men countenance, that those which use the terms might be thought to understand the art; which collections are much like a fripper’s or broker’s shop, that hath ends of everything, but nothing of worth.

XVIII. (1) Now we descend to that part which concerneth the illustration of tradition, comprehended in that science which we call rhetoric, or art of eloquence, a science excellent, and excellently well laboured. For although in true value it is inferior to wisdom (as it is said by God to Moses, when he disabled himself for want of this faculty, “Aaron shall be thy speaker, and thou shalt be to him as God”), yet with people it is the more mighty; for so Solomon saith, _Sapiens corde appellabitur prudens_, _sed dulcis eloquio majora reperiet_, signifying that profoundness of wisdom will help a man to a name or admiration, but that it is eloquence that prevaileth in an active life. And as to the labouring of it, the emulation of Aristotle with the rhetoricians of his time, and the experience of Cicero, hath made them in their works of rhetoric exceed themselves. Again, the excellency of examples of eloquence in the orations of Demosthenes and Cicero, added to the perfection of the precepts of eloquence, hath doubled the progression in this art; and therefore the deficiences which I shall note will rather be in some collections, which may as handmaids attend the art, than in the rules or use of the art itself.

(2) Notwithstanding, to stir the earth a little about the roots of this science, as we have done of the rest, the duty and office of rhetoric is to apply reason to imagination for the better moving of the will. For we see reason is disturbed in the administration thereof by three means—by illaqueation or sophism, which pertains to logic; by imagination or impression, which pertains to rhetoric; and by passion or affection, which pertains to morality. And as in negotiation with others, men are wrought by cunning, by importunity, and by vehemency; so in this negotiation within ourselves, men are undermined by inconsequences, solicited and importuned by impressions or observations, and transported by passions. Neither is the nature of man so unfortunately built, as that those powers and arts should have force to disturb reason, and not to establish and advance it. For the end of logic is to teach a form of argument to secure reason, and not to entrap it; the end of morality is to procure the affections to obey reason, and not to invade it; the end of rhetoric is to fill the imagination to second reason, and not to oppress it; for these abuses of arts come in but _ex oblique_, for caution.

(3) And therefore it was great injustice in Plato, though springing out of a just hatred to the rhetoricians of his time, to esteem of rhetoric but as a voluptuary art, resembling it to cookery, that did mar wholesome meats, and help unwholesome by variety of sauces to the pleasure of the taste. For we see that speech is much more conversant in adorning that which is good than in colouring that which is evil; for there is no man but speaketh more honestly than he can do or think; and it was excellently noted by Thucydides, in Cleon, that because he used to hold on the bad side in causes of estate, therefore he was ever inveighing against eloquence and good speech, knowing that no man can speak fair of courses sordid and base. And therefore, as Plato said elegantly, “That virtue, if she could be seen, would move great love and affection;” so seeing that she cannot be showed to the sense by corporal shape, the next degree is to show her to the imagination in lively representation; for to show her to reason only in subtlety of argument was a thing ever derided in Chrysippus and many of the Stoics, who thought to thrust virtue upon men by sharp disputations and conclusions, which have no sympathy with the will of man.

(4) Again, if the affections in themselves were pliant and obedient to reason, it were true there should be no great use of persuasions and insinuations to the will, more than of naked proposition and proofs; but in regard of the continual mutinies and seditious of the affections—

“Video meliora, proboque, Deteriora sequor,”

reason would become captive and servile, if eloquence of persuasions did not practise and win the imagination from the affections’ part, and contract a confederacy between the reason and imagination against the affections; for the affections themselves carry ever an appetite to good, as reason doth. The difference is, that the affection beholdeth merely the present; reason beholdeth the future and sum of time. And, therefore, the present filling the imagination more, reason is commonly vanquished; but after that force of eloquence and persuasion hath made things future and remote appear as present, then upon the revolt of the imagination reason prevaileth.

(5) We conclude, therefore, that rhetoric can be no more charged with the colouring of the worst part, than logic with sophistry, or morality with vice; for we know the doctrines of contraries are the same, though the use be opposite. It appeareth also that logic differeth from rhetoric, not only as the fist from the palm—the one close, the other at large—but much more in this, that logic handleth reason exact and in truth, and rhetoric handleth it as it is planted in popular opinions and manners. And therefore Aristotle doth wisely place rhetoric as between logic on the one side, and moral or civil knowledge on the other, as participating of both; for the proofs and demonstrations of logic are toward all men indifferent and the same, but the proofs and persuasions of rhetoric ought to differ according to the auditors:

“Orpheus in sylvis, inter delphinas Arion.”

Which application in perfection of idea ought to extend so far that if a man should speak of the same thing to several persons, he should speak to them all respectively and several ways; though this politic part of eloquence in private speech it is easy for the greatest orators to want: whilst, by the observing their well-graced forms of speech, they leese the volubility of application; and therefore it shall not be amiss to recommend this to better inquiry, not being curious whether we place it here or in that part which concerneth policy.

(6) Now therefore will I descend to the deficiences, which, as I said, are but attendances; and first, I do not find the wisdom and diligence of Aristotle well pursued, who began to make a collection of the popular signs and colours of good and evil, both simple and comparative, which are as the sophisms of rhetoric (as I touched before). For example—

“Sophisma.

Quod laudatur, bonum: quod vituperatur, malum.

Redargutio.

Laudat venales qui vult extrudere merces.”

_Malum est_, _malum est_ (_inquit emptor_): _sed cum recesserit_, _tum gloriabitur_! The defects in the labour of Aristotle are three—one, that there be but a few of many; another, that there elenches are not annexed; and the third, that he conceived but a part of the use of them: for their use is not only in probation, but much more in impression. For many forms are equal in signification which are differing in impression, as the difference is great in the piercing of that which is sharp and that which is flat, though the strength of the percussion be the same. For there is no man but will be a little more raised by hearing it said, “Your enemies will be glad of this”—

“Hoc Ithacus velit, et magno mercentur Atridæ.”

than by hearing it said only, “This is evil for you.”

(7) Secondly, I do resume also that which I mentioned before, touching provision or preparatory store for the furniture of speech and readiness of invention, which appeareth to be of two sorts: the one in resemblance to a shop of pieces unmade up, the other to a shop of things ready made up; both to be applied to that which is frequent and most in request. The former of these I will call _antitheta_, and the latter _formulæ_.

(8) _Antitheta_ are theses argued _pro et contra_, wherein men may be more large and laborious; but (in such as are able to do it) to avoid prolixity of entry, I wish the seeds of the several arguments to be cast up into some brief and acute sentences, not to be cited, but to be as skeins or bottoms of thread, to be unwinded at large when they come to be used; supplying authorities and examples by reference.

“_Pro verbis legis_. Non est interpretatio, sed divinatio, quæ recedit a litera: Cum receditur a litera, judex transit in legislatorem.

_Pro sententia legis_. Ex omnibus verbis est eliciendus sensus qui interpretatur singula.”

(9) _Formulæ_ are but decent and apt passages or conveyances of speech, which may serve indifferently for differing subjects; as of preface, conclusion, digression, transition, excusation, &c. For as in buildings there is great pleasure and use in the well casting of the staircases, entries, doors, windows, and the like; so in speech, the conveyances and passages are of special ornament and effect.

“_A conclusion in a deliberative_. So may we redeem the faults passed, and prevent the inconveniences future.”

XIX. (1) There remain two appendices touching the tradition of knowledge, the one critical, the other pedantical. For all knowledge is either delivered by teachers, or attained by men’s proper endeavours: and therefore as the principal part of tradition of knowledge concerneth chiefly writing of books, so the relative part thereof concerneth reading of books; whereunto appertain incidently these considerations. The first is concerning the true correction and edition of authors; wherein nevertheless rash diligence hath done great prejudice. For these critics have often presumed that that which they understand not is false set down: as the priest that, where he found it written of St. Paul _Demissus est per sportam_, mended his book, and made it _Demissus est per portam_; because _sporta_ was a hard word, and out of his reading: and surely their errors, though they be not so palpable and ridiculous, yet are of the same kind. And therefore, as it hath been wisely noted, the most corrected copies are commonly the least correct.

The second is concerning the exposition and explication of authors, which resteth in annotations and commentaries: wherein it is over usual to blanch the obscure places and discourse upon the plain.

The third is concerning the times, which in many cases give great light to true interpretations.

The fourth is concerning some brief censure and judgment of the authors; that men thereby may make some election unto themselves what books to read.

And the fifth is concerning the syntax and disposition of studies; that men may know in what order or pursuit to read.

(2) For pedantical knowledge, it containeth that difference of tradition which is proper for youth; whereunto appertain divers considerations of great fruit.

As first, the timing and seasoning of knowledges; as with what to initiate them, and from what for a time to refrain them.

Secondly, the consideration where to begin with the easiest, and so proceed to the more difficult; and in what courses to press the more difficult, and then to turn them to the more easy; for it is one method to practise swimming with bladders, and another to practise dancing with heavy shoes.

A third is the application of learning according unto the propriety of the wits; for there is no defect in the faculties intellectual, but seemeth to have a proper cure contained in some studies: as, for example, if a child be bird-witted, that is, hath not the faculty of attention, the mathematics giveth a remedy thereunto; for in them, if the wit be caught away but a moment, one is new to begin. And as sciences have a propriety towards faculties for cure and help, so faculties or powers have a sympathy towards sciences for excellency or speedy profiting: and therefore it is an inquiry of great wisdom, what kinds of wits and natures are most apt and proper for what sciences.

Fourthly, the ordering of exercises is matter of great consequence to hurt or help: for, as is well observed by Cicero, men in exercising their faculties, if they be not well advised, do exercise their faults and get ill habits as well as good; so as there is a great judgment to be had in the continuance and intermission of exercises. It were too long to

## particularise a number of other considerations of this nature, things but

of mean appearance, but of singular efficacy. For as the wronging or cherishing of seeds or young plants is that that is most important to their thriving, and as it was noted that the first six kings being in truth as tutors of the state of Rome in the infancy thereof was the principal cause of the immense greatness of that state which followed, so the culture and manurance of minds in youth hath such a forcible (though unseen) operation, as hardly any length of time or contention of labour can countervail it afterwards. And it is not amiss to observe also how small and mean faculties gotten by education, yet when they fall into great men or great matters, do work great and important effects: whereof we see a notable example in Tacitus of two stage players, Percennius and Vibulenus, who by their faculty of playing put the Pannonian armies into an extreme tumult and combustion. For there arising a mutiny amongst them upon the death of Augustus Cæsar, Blæsus the lieutenant had committed some of the mutineers, which were suddenly rescued; whereupon Vibulenus got to be heard speak, which he did in this manner:—“These poor innocent wretches appointed to cruel death, you have restored to behold the light; but who shall restore my brother to me, or life unto my brother, that was sent hither in message from the legions of Germany, to treat of the common cause? and he hath murdered him this last night by some of his fencers and ruffians, that he hath about him for his executioners upon soldiers. Answer, Blæsus, what is done with his body? The mortalest enemies do not deny burial. When I have performed my last duties to the corpse with kisses, with tears, command me to be slain besides him; so that these my fellows, for our good meaning and our true hearts to the legions, may have leave to bury us.” With which speech he put the army into an infinite fury and uproar: whereas truth was he had no brother, neither was there any such matter; but he played it merely as if he had been upon the stage.

(3) But to return: we are now come to a period of rational knowledges; wherein if I have made the divisions other than those that are received, yet would I not be thought to disallow all those divisions which I do not use. For there is a double necessity imposed upon me of altering the divisions. The one, because it differeth in end and purpose, to sort together those things which are next in nature, and those things which are next in use. For if a secretary of estate should sort his papers, it is like in his study or general cabinet he would sort together things of a nature, as treaties, instructions, &c. But in his boxes or particular cabinet he would sort together those that he were like to use together, though of several natures. So in this general cabinet of knowledge it was necessary for me to follow the divisions of the nature of things; whereas if myself had been to handle any particular knowledge, I would have respected the divisions fittest for use. The other, because the bringing in of the deficiences did by consequence alter the partitions of the rest. For let the knowledge extant (for demonstration sake) be fifteen. Let the knowledge with the deficiences be twenty; the parts of fifteen are not the parts of twenty; for the parts of fifteen are three and five; the parts of twenty are two, four, five, and ten. So as these things are without contradiction, and could not otherwise be.

XX. (1) We proceed now to that knowledge which considereth of the appetite and will of man: whereof Solomon saith, _Ante omnia_, _fili_, _custodi cor tuum_: _nam inde procedunt actiones vitæ_. In the handling of this science, those which have written seem to me to have done as if a man, that professed to teach to write, did only exhibit fair copies of alphabets and letters joined, without giving any precepts or directions for the carriage of the hand and framing of the letters. So have they made good and fair exemplars and copies, carrying the draughts and portraitures of good, virtue, duty, felicity; propounding them well described as the true objects and scopes of man’s will and desires. But how to attain these excellent marks, and how to frame and subdue the will of man to become true and conformable to these pursuits, they pass it over altogether, or slightly and unprofitably. For it is not the disputing that moral virtues are in the mind of man by habit and not by nature, or the distinguishing that generous spirits are won by doctrines and persuasions, and the vulgar sort by reward and punishment, and the like scattered glances and touches, that can excuse the absence of this part.

(2) The reason of this omission I suppose to be that hidden rock whereupon both this and many other barks of knowledge have been cast away; which is, that men have despised to be conversant in ordinary and common matters, the judicious direction whereof nevertheless is the wisest doctrine (for life consisteth not in novelties nor subtleties), but contrariwise they have compounded sciences chiefly of a certain resplendent or lustrous mass of matter, chosen to give glory either to the subtlety of disputatious, or to the eloquence of discourses. But Seneca giveth an excellent check to eloquence, _Nocet illis eloquentia_, _quibus non rerum cupiditatem facit_, _sed sui_. Doctrine should be such as should make men in love with the lesson, and not with the teacher; being directed to the auditor’s benefit, and not to the author’s commendation. And therefore those are of the right kind which may be concluded as Demosthenes concludes his counsel, _Quæ si feceritis_, _non oratorem dumtaxat in præsentia laudabitis_, _sed vosmetipsos etiam non ita multo post statu rerum vestraram meliore_.

(3) Neither needed men of so excellent parts to have despaired of a fortune, which the poet Virgil promised himself, and indeed obtained, who got as much glory of eloquence, wit, and learning in the expressing of the observations of husbandry, as of the heroical acts of Æneas:

“Nec sum animi dubius, verbis ea vincere magnum Quam sit, et angustis his addere rebus honorem.”

And surely, if the purpose be in good earnest, not to write at leisure that which men may read at leisure, but really to instruct and suborn

## action and active life, these Georgics of the mind, concerning the

husbandry and tillage thereof, are no less worthy than the heroical descriptions of virtue, duty, and felicity. Wherefore the main and primitive division of moral knowledge seemeth to be into the exemplar or platform of good, and the regiment or culture of the mind: the one describing the nature of good, the other prescribing rules how to subdue, apply, and accommodate the will of man thereunto.

(4) The doctrine touching the platform or nature of good considereth it either simple or compared; either the kinds of good, or the degrees of good; in the latter whereof those infinite disputatious which were touching the supreme degree thereof, which they term felicity, beatitude, or the highest good, the doctrines concerning which were as the heathen divinity, are by the Christian faith discharged. And as Aristotle saith, “That young men may be happy, but not otherwise but by hope;” so we must all acknowledge our minority, and embrace the felicity which is by hope of the future world.

(5) Freed therefore and delivered from this doctrine of the philosopher’s heaven, whereby they feigned a higher elevation of man’s nature than was (for we see in what height of style Seneca writeth, _Vere magnum_, _habere fragilitatem hominis_, _securitatem Dei_), we may with more sobriety and truth receive the rest of their inquiries and labours. Wherein for the nature of good positive or simple, they have set it down excellently in describing the forms of virtue and duty, with their situations and postures; in distributing them into their kinds, parts, provinces, actions, and administrations, and the like: nay further, they have commended them to man’s nature and spirit with great quickness of argument and beauty of persuasions; yea, and fortified and entrenched them (as much as discourse can do) against corrupt and popular opinions. Again, for the degrees and comparative nature of good, they have also excellently handled it in their triplicity of good, in the comparisons between a contemplative and an active life, in the distinction between virtue with reluctation and virtue secured, in their encounters between honesty and profit, in their balancing of virtue with virtue, and the like; so as this part deserveth to be reported for excellently laboured.

(6) Notwithstanding, if before they had come to the popular and received notions of virtue and vice, pleasure and pain, and the rest, they had stayed a little longer upon the inquiry concerning the roots of good and evil, and the strings of those roots, they had given, in my opinion, a great light to that which followed; and specially if they had consulted with nature, they had made their doctrines less prolix and more profound: which being by them in part omitted and in part handled with much confusion, we will endeavour to resume and open in a more clear manner.

(7) There is formed in everything a double nature of good—the one, as everything is a total or substantive in itself; the other, as it is a part or member of a greater body; whereof the latter is in degree the greater and the worthier, because it tendeth to the conservation of a more general form. Therefore we see the iron in particular sympathy moveth to the loadstone; but yet if it exceed a certain quantity, it forsaketh the affection to the loadstone, and like a good patriot moveth to the earth, which is the region and country of massy bodies; so may we go forward, and see that water and massy bodies move to the centre of the earth; but rather than to suffer a divulsion in the continuance of nature, they will move upwards from the centre of the earth, forsaking their duty to the earth in regard of their duty to the world. This double nature of good, and the comparative thereof, is much more engraven upon man, if he degenerate not, unto whom the conservation of duty to the public ought to be much more precious than the conservation of life and being; according to that memorable speech of Pompeius Magnus, when being in commission of purveyance for a famine at Rome, and being dissuaded with great vehemency and instance by his friends about him, that he should not hazard himself to sea in an extremity of weather, he said only to them, _Necesse est ut eam_, _non ut vivam_. But it may be truly affirmed that there was never any philosophy, religion, or other discipline, which did so plainly and highly exalt the good which is communicative, and depress the good which is private and particular, as the Holy Faith; well declaring that it was the same God that gave the Christian law to men, who gave those laws of nature to inanimate creatures that we spake of before; for we read that the elected saints of God have wished themselves anathematised and razed out of the book of life, in an ecstasy of charity and infinite feeling of communion.

(8) This being set down and strongly planted, doth judge and determine most of the controversies wherein moral philosophy is conversant. For first, it decideth the question touching the preferment of the contemplative or active life, and decideth it against Aristotle. For all the reasons which he bringeth for the contemplative are private, and respecting the pleasure and dignity of a man’s self (in which respects no question the contemplative life hath the pre-eminence), not much unlike to that comparison which Pythagoras made for the gracing and magnifying of philosophy and contemplation, who being asked what he was, answered, “That if Hiero were ever at the Olympian games, he knew the manner, that some came to try their fortune for the prizes, and some came as merchants to utter their commodities, and some came to make good cheer and meet their friends, and some came to look on; and that he was one of them that came to look on.” But men must know, that in this theatre of man’s life it is reserved only for God and angels to be lookers on. Neither could the like question ever have been received in the Church, notwithstanding their _Pretiosa in oculis Domini mors sanctorum ejus_, by which place they would exalt their civil death and regular professions, but upon this defence, that the monastical life is not simple contemplative, but performeth the duty either of incessant prayers and supplications, which hath been truly esteemed as an office in the Church, or else of writing or taking instructions for writing concerning the law of God, as Moses did when he abode so long in the mount. And so we see Enoch, the seventh from Adam, who was the first contemplative and walked with God, yet did also endow the Church with prophecy, which Saint Jude citeth. But for contemplation which should be finished in itself, without casting beams upon society, assuredly divinity knoweth it not.

(9) It decideth also the controversies between Zeno and Socrates, and their schools and successions, on the one side, who placed felicity in virtue simply or attended, the actions and exercises whereof do chiefly embrace and concern society; and on the other side, the Cyrenaics and Epicureans, who placed it in pleasure, and made virtue (as it is used in some comedies of errors, wherein the mistress and the maid change habits) to be but as a servant, without which pleasure cannot be served and attended; and the reformed school of the Epicureans, which placed it in serenity of mind and freedom from perturbation; as if they would have deposed Jupiter again, and restored Saturn and the first age, when there was no summer nor winter, spring nor autumn, but all after one air and season; and Herillus, which placed felicity in extinguishment of the disputes of the mind, making no fixed nature of good and evil, esteeming things according to the clearness of the desires, or the reluctation; which opinion was revived in the heresy of the Anabaptists, measuring things according to the motions of the spirit, and the constancy or wavering of belief; all which are manifest to tend to private repose and contentment, and not to point of society.

(10) It censureth also the philosophy of Epictetus, which presupposeth that felicity must be placed in those things which are in our power, lest we be liable to fortune and disturbance; as if it were not a thing much more happy to fail in good and virtuous ends for the public, than to obtain all that we can wish to ourselves in our proper fortune: as Consalvo said to his soldiers, showing them Naples, and protesting he had rather die one foot forwards, than to have his life secured for long by one foot of retreat. Whereunto the wisdom of that heavenly leader hath signed, who hath affirmed that “a good conscience is a continual feast;” showing plainly that the conscience of good intentions, howsoever succeeding, is a more continual joy to nature than all the provision which can be made for security and repose.

(11) It censureth likewise that abuse of philosophy which grew general about the time of Epictetus, in converting it into an occupation or profession; as if the purpose had been, not to resist and extinguish perturbations, but to fly and avoid the causes of them, and to shape a

## particular kind and course of life to that end; introducing such a health

of mind, as was that health of body of which Aristotle speaketh of Herodicus, who did nothing all his life long but intend his health; whereas if men refer themselves to duties of society, as that health of body is best which is ablest to endure all alterations and extremities, so likewise that health of mind is most proper which can go through the greatest temptations and perturbations. So as Diogenes’ opinion is to be accepted, who commended not them which abstained, but them which sustained, and could refrain their mind _in præcipitio_, and could give unto the mind (as is used in horsemanship) the shortest stop or turn.

(12) Lastly, it censureth the tenderness and want of application in some of the most ancient and reverend philosophers and philosophical men, that did retire too easily from civil business, for avoiding of indignities and perturbations; whereas the resolution of men truly moral ought to be such as the same Consalvo said the honour of a soldier should be, _e telâ crassiore_, and not so fine as that everything should catch in it and endanger it.

XXI. (1) To resume private or particular good, it falleth into the division of good active and passive; for this difference of good (not unlike to that which amongst the Romans was expressed in the familiar or household terms of _promus_ and _condus_) is formed also in all things, and is best disclosed in the two several appetites in creatures; the one to preserve or continue themselves, and the other to dilate or multiply themselves, whereof the latter seemeth to be the worthier; for in nature the heavens, which are the more worthy, are the agent, and the earth, which is the less worthy, is the patient. In the pleasures of living creatures, that of generation is greater than that of food. In divine doctrine, _beatius est dare quam accipere_. And in life, there is no man’s spirit so soft, but esteemeth the effecting of somewhat that he hath fixed in his desire, more than sensuality, which priority of the

## active good is much upheld by the consideration of our estate to be

mortal and exposed to fortune. For if we might have a perpetuity and certainty in our pleasures, the state of them would advance their price. But when we see it is but _magni æstimamus mori tardius_, and _ne glorieris de crastino_, _nescis partum diei_, it maketh us to desire to have somewhat secured and exempted from time, which are only our deeds and works; as it is said, _Opera eorum sequuntur eos_. The pre-eminence likewise of this active good is upheld by the affection which is natural in man towards variety and proceeding, which in the pleasures of the sense, which is the principal part of passive good, can have no great latitude. _Cogita quamdiu eadem feceris_; _cibus_, _somnus_, _ludus per hunc circulum curritur_; _mori velle non tantum fortis_, _aut miser_, _aut prudens_, _sed etiam fastidiosus potest_. But in enterprises, pursuits, and purposes of life, there is much variety; whereof men are sensible with pleasure in their inceptions, progressions, recoils, reintegrations, approaches and attainings to their ends. So as it was well said, _Vita sine proposito languida et vaga est_. Neither hath this

## active good an identity with the good of society, though in some cases it

hath an incidence into it. For although it do many times bring forth acts of beneficence, yet it is with a respect private to a man’s own power, glory, amplification, continuance; as appeareth plainly, when it findeth a contrary subject. For that gigantine state of mind which possesseth the troublers of the world, such as was Lucius Sylla and infinite other in smaller model, who would have all men happy or unhappy as they were their friends or enemies, and would give form to the world, according to their own humours (which is the true theomachy), pretendeth and aspireth to active good, though it recedeth furthest from good of society, which we have determined to be the greater.

(2) To resume passive good, it receiveth a subdivision of conservative and effective. For let us take a brief review of that which we have said: we have spoken first of the good of society, the intention whereof embraceth the form of human nature, whereof we are members and portions, and not our own proper and individual form; we have spoken of active good, and supposed it as a part of private and particular good. And rightly, for there is impressed upon all things a triple desire or appetite proceeding from love to themselves: one of preserving and continuing their form; another of advancing and perfecting their form; and a third of multiplying and extending their form upon other things: whereof the multiplying, or signature of it upon other things, is that which we handled by the name of active good. So as there remaineth the conserving of it, and perfecting or raising of it, which latter is the highest degree of passive good. For to preserve in state is the less, to preserve with advancement is the greater. So in man,

“Igneus est ollis vigor, et cælestis origo.”

His approach or assumption to divine or angelical nature is the perfection of his form; the error or false imitation of which good is that which is the tempest of human life; while man, upon the instinct of an advancement, formal and essential, is carried to seek an advancement local. For as those which are sick, and find no remedy, do tumble up and down and change place, as if by a remove local they could obtain a remove internal, so is it with men in ambition, when failing of the mean to exalt their nature, they are in a perpetual estuation to exalt their place. So then passive good is, as was said, either conservative or perfective.

(3) To resume the good of conservation or comfort, which consisteth in the fruition of that which is agreeable to our natures; it seemeth to be most pure and natural of pleasures, but yet the softest and lowest. And this also receiveth a difference, which hath neither been well judged of, nor well inquired; for the good of fruition or contentment is placed either in the sincereness of the fruition, or in the quickness and vigour of it; the one superinduced by equality, the other by vicissitude; the one having less mixture of evil, the other more impression of good. Whether of these is the greater good is a question controverted; but whether man’s nature may not be capable of both is a question not inquired.

(4) The former question being debated between Socrates and a sophist, Socrates placing felicity in an equal and constant peace of mind, and the sophist in much desiring and much enjoying, they fell from argument to ill words: the sophist saying that Socrates’ felicity was the felicity of a block or stone; and Socrates saying that the sophist’s felicity was the felicity of one that had the itch, who did nothing but itch and scratch. And both these opinions do not want their supports. For the opinion of Socrates is much upheld by the general consent even of the epicures themselves, that virtue beareth a great part in felicity; and if so, certain it is, that virtue hath more use in clearing perturbations then in compassing desires. The sophist’s opinion is much favoured by the assertion we last spake of, that good of advancement is greater than good of simple preservation; because every obtaining a desire hath a show of advancement, as motion though in a circle hath a show of progression.

(5) But the second question, decided the true way, maketh the former superfluous. For can it be doubted, but that there are some who take more pleasure in enjoying pleasures than some other, and yet, nevertheless, are less troubled with the loss or leaving of them? So as this same, _Non uti ut non appetas_, _non appetere ut non metuas_, _sunt animi pusilli et diffidentis_. And it seemeth to me that most of the doctrines of the philosophers are more fearful and cautious than the nature of things requireth. So have they increased the fear of death in offering to cure it. For when they would have a man’s whole life to be but a discipline or preparation to die, they must needs make men think that it is a terrible enemy, against whom there is no end of preparing. Better saith the poet:—

“Qui finem vitæ extremum inter munera ponat Naturæ.”

So have they sought to make men’s minds too uniform and harmonical, by not breaking them sufficiently to contrary motions; the reasons whereof I suppose to be, because they themselves were men dedicated to a private, free, and unapplied course of life. For as we see, upon the lute or like instrument, a ground, though it be sweet and have show of many changes, yet breaketh not the hand to such strange and hard stops and passages, as a set song or voluntary; much after the same manner was the diversity between a philosophical and civil life. And, therefore, men are to imitate the wisdom of jewellers: who, if there be a grain, or a cloud, or an ice which may be ground forth without taking too much of the stone, they help it; but if it should lessen and abate the stone too much, they will not meddle with it: so ought men so to procure serenity as they destroy not magnanimity.

(6) Having therefore deduced the good of man which is private and

## particular, as far as seemeth fit, we will now return to that good of man

which respecteth and beholdeth society, which we may term duty; because the term of duty is more proper to a mind well framed and disposed towards others, as the term of virtue is applied to a mind well formed and composed in itself; though neither can a man understand virtue without some relation to society, nor duty without an inward disposition. This part may seem at first to pertain to science civil and politic; but not if it be well observed. For it concerneth the regiment and government of every man over himself, and not over others. And as in architecture the direction of framing the posts, beams, and other parts of building, is not the same with the manner of joining them and erecting the building; and in mechanicals, the direction how to frame an instrument or engine is not the same with the manner of setting it on work and employing it; and yet, nevertheless, in expressing of the one you incidently express the aptness towards the other; so the doctrine of conjugation of men in society differeth from that of their conformity thereunto.

(7) This part of duty is subdivided into two parts: the common duty of every man, as a man or member of a state; the other, the respective or special duty of every man in his profession, vocation, and place. The first of these is extant and well laboured, as hath been said. The second likewise I may report rather dispersed than deficient; which manner of dispersed writing in this kind of argument I acknowledge to be best. For who can take upon him to write of the proper duty, virtue, challenge, and right of every several vocation, profession, and place? For although sometimes a looker on may see more than a gamester, and there be a proverb more arrogant than sound, “That the vale best discovereth the hill;” yet there is small doubt but that men can write best and most really and materially in their own professions; and that the writing of speculative men of active matter for the most part doth seem to men of experience, as Phormio’s argument of the wars seemed to Hannibal, to be but dreams and dotage. Only there is one vice which accompanieth them that write in their own professions, that they magnify them in excess. But generally it were to be wished (as that which would make learning indeed solid and fruitful) that active men would or could become writers.

(8) In which kind I cannot but mention, _honoris causa_, your Majesty’s excellent book touching the duty of a king; a work richly compounded of divinity, morality, and policy, with great aspersion of all other arts; and being in some opinion one of the most sound and healthful writings that I have read: not distempered in the heat of invention, nor in the coldness of negligence; not sick of dizziness, as those are who leese themselves in their order, nor of convulsions, as those which cramp in matters impertinent; not savouring of perfumes and paintings, as those do who seek to please the reader more than nature beareth; and chiefly well disposed in the spirits thereof, being agreeable to truth and apt for

## action; and far removed from that natural infirmity, whereunto I noted

those that write in their own professions to be subject—which is, that they exalt it above measure. For your Majesty hath truly described, not a king of Assyria or Persia in their extern glory, but a Moses or a David, pastors of their people. Neither can I ever leese out of my remembrance what I heard your Majesty in the same sacred spirit of government deliver in a great cause of judicature, which was, “That kings ruled by their laws, as God did by the laws of nature; and ought as rarely to put in use their supreme prerogative as God doth His power of working miracles.” And yet notwithstanding in your book of a free monarchy, you do well give men to understand, that you know the plenitude of the power and right of a king, as well as the circle of his office and duty. Thus have I presumed to allege this excellent writing of your Majesty, as a prime or eminent example of tractates concerning special and respective duties; wherein I should have said as much, if it had been written a thousand years since. Neither am I moved with certain courtly decencies, which esteem it flattery to praise in presence. No, it is flattery to praise in absence—that is, when either the virtue is absent, or the occasion is absent; and so the praise is not natural, but forced, either in truth or in time. But let Cicero be read in his oration _pro Marcello_, which is nothing but an excellent table of Cæsar’s virtue, and made to his face; besides the example of many other excellent persons, wiser a great deal than such observers; and we will never doubt, upon a full occasion, to give just praises to present or absent.

(9) But to return; there belongeth further to the handling of this part, touching the duties of professions and vocations, a relative or opposite, touching the frauds, cautels, impostures, and vices of every profession, which hath been likewise handled; but how? rather in a satire and cynically, than seriously and wisely; for men have rather sought by wit to deride and traduce much of that which is good in professions, than with judgment to discover and sever that which is corrupt. For, as Solomon saith, he that cometh to seek after knowledge with a mind to scorn and censure shall be sure to find matter for his humour, but no matter for his instruction: _Quærenti derisori scientiam ipsa se abscondit_; _sed studioso fit obviam_. But the managing of this argument with integrity and truth, which I note as deficient, seemeth to me to be one of the best fortifications for honesty and virtue that can be planted. For, as the fable goeth of the basilisk—that if he see you first, you die for it; but if you see him first, he dieth—so is it with deceits and evil arts, which, if they be first espied they leese their life; but if they prevent, they endanger. So that we are much beholden to Machiavel and others, that write what men do, and not what they ought to do. For it is not possible to join serpentine wisdom with the columbine innocency, except men know exactly all the conditions of the serpent; his baseness and going upon his belly, his volubility and lubricity, his envy and sting, and the rest—that is, all forms and natures of evil. For without this, virtue lieth open and unfenced. Nay, an honest man can do no good upon those that are wicked, to reclaim them, without the help of the knowledge of evil. For men of corrupted minds presuppose that honesty groweth out of simplicity of manners, and believing of preachers, schoolmasters, and men’s exterior language. So as, except you can make them perceive that you know the utmost reaches of their own corrupt opinions, they despise all morality. _Non recipit stultus verba prudentiæ_, _nisi ea dixeris quæ_, _versantur in corde ejus_.

(10) Unto this part, touching respective duty, doth also appertain the duties between husband and wife, parent and child, master and servant. So likewise the laws of friendship and gratitude, the civil bond of companies, colleges, and politic bodies, of neighbourhood, and all other proportionate duties; not as they are parts of government and society, but as to the framing of the mind of particular persons.

(11) The knowledge concerning good respecting society doth handle it also, not simply alone, but comparatively; whereunto belongeth the weighing of duties between person and person, case and case, particular and public. As we see in the proceeding of Lucius Brutus against his own sons, which was so much extolled, yet what was said?

“Infelix, utcunque ferent ea fata minores.”

So the case was doubtful, and had opinion on both sides. Again, we see when M. Brutus and Cassius invited to a supper certain whose opinions they meant to feel, whether they were fit to be made their associates, and cast forth the question touching the killing of a tyrant being a usurper, they were divided in opinion; some holding that servitude was the extreme of evils, and others that tyranny was better than a civil war: and a number of the like cases there are of comparative duty. Amongst which that of all others is the most frequent, where the question is of a great deal of good to ensue of a small injustice. Which Jason of Thessalia determined against the truth: _Aliqua sunt injuste facienda_, _ut multa juste fieri possint_. But the reply is good: _Auctorem præsentis justitiæ habes_, _sponsorem futuræ non habes_. Men must pursue things which are just in present, and leave the future to the Divine Providence. So then we pass on from this general part touching the exemplar and description of good.

XXII. (1) Now, therefore, that we have spoken of this fruit of life, it remaineth to speak of the husbandry that belongeth thereunto, without which part the former seemeth to be no better than a fair image or statue, which is beautiful to contemplate, but is without life and motion; whereunto Aristotle himself subscribeth in these words: _Necesse est scilicet de virtute dicere_, _et quid sit_, _et ex quibus gignatur_. _Inutile enum fere fuerit virtutem quidem nosse_, _acquirendæ autem ejus modos et vias ignorare_. _Non enum de virtute tantum_, _qua specie sit_, _quærendum est_, _sed et quomodo sui copiam faciat_: _utrumque enum volumeus_, _et rem ipsam nosse_, _et ejus compotes fieri_: _hoc autem ex voto non succedet_, _nisi sciamus et ex quibus et quomodo_. In such full words and with such iteration doth he inculcate this part. So saith Cicero in great commendation of Cato the second, that he had applied himself to philosophy, _Non ita disputandi causa_, _sed ita vivendi_. And although the neglect of our times, wherein few men do hold any consultations touching the reformation of their life (as Seneca excellently saith, _De partibus vitæ quisque deliberat_, _de summa nemo_), may make this part seem superfluous; yet I must conclude with that aphorism of Hippocrates, _Qui gravi morbo correpti dolores non sentiunt_, _iis mens ægrotat_. They need medicine, not only to assuage the disease, but to awake the sense. And if it be said that the cure of men’s minds belongeth to sacred divinity, it is most true; but yet moral philosophy may be preferred unto her as a wise servant and humble handmaid. For as the Psalm saith, “That the eyes of the handmaid look perpetually towards the mistress,” and yet no doubt many things are left to the discretion of the handmaid to discern of the mistress’ will; so ought moral philosophy to give a constant attention to the doctrines of divinity, and yet so as it may yield of herself (within due limits) many sound and profitable directions.

(2) This part, therefore, because of the excellency thereof, I cannot but find exceeding strange that it is not reduced to written inquiry; the rather, because it consisteth of much matter, wherein both speech and

## action is often conversant; and such wherein the common talk of men

(which is rare, but yet cometh sometimes to pass) is wiser than their books. It is reasonable, therefore, that we propound it in the more

## particularity, both for the worthiness, and because we may acquit

ourselves for reporting it deficient, which seemeth almost incredible, and is otherwise conceived and presupposed by those themselves that have written. We will, therefore, enumerate some heads or points thereof, that it may appear the better what it is, and whether it be extant.

(3) First, therefore, in this, as in all things which are practical we ought to cast up our account, what is in our power, and what not; for the one may be dealt with by way of alteration, but the other by way of application only. The husbandman cannot command neither the nature of the earth nor the seasons of the weather; no more can the physician the constitution of the patient nor the variety of accidents. So in the culture and cure of the mind of man, two things are without our command: points of Nature, and points of fortune. For to the basis of the one, and the conditions of the other, our work is limited and tied. In these things, therefore, it is left unto us to proceed by application:—

“Vincenda est omnis fertuna ferendo:”

and so likewise,

“Vincenda est omnis Natura ferendo.”

But when that we speak of suffering, we do not speak of a dull and neglected suffering, but of a wise and industrious suffering, which draweth and contriveth use and advantage out of that which seemeth adverse and contrary; which is that properly which we call accommodating or applying. Now the wisdom of application resteth principally in the exact and distinct knowledge of the precedent state or disposition, unto which we do apply; for we cannot fit a garment except we first take measure of the body.

(4) So, then, the first article of this knowledge is to set down sound and true distributions and descriptions of the several characters and tempers of men’s natures and dispositions, specially having regard to those differences which are most radical in being the fountains and causes of the rest, or most frequent in concurrence or commixture; wherein it is not the handling of a few of them in passage, the better to describe the mediocrities of virtues, that can satisfy this intention. For if it deserve to be considered, that there are minds which are proportioned to great matters, and others to small (which Aristotle handleth, or ought to have bandied, by the name of magnanimity), doth it not deserve as well to be considered that there are minds proportioned to intend many matters, and others to few? So that some can divide themselves: others can perchance do exactly well, but it must be but in few things at once; and so there cometh to be a narrowness of mind, as well as a pusillanimity. And again, that some minds are proportioned to that which may be dispatched at once, or within a short return of time; others to that which begins afar off, and is to be won with length of pursuit:—

“Jam tum tenditqus fovetque.”

So that there may be fitly said to be a longanimity, which is commonly also ascribed to God as a magnanimity. So further deserved it to be considered by Aristotle, “That there is a disposition in conversation (supposing it in things which do in no sort touch or concern a man’s self) to soothe and please, and a disposition contrary to contradict and cross;” and deserveth it not much better to be considered. “That there is a disposition, not in conversation or talk, but in matter of more serious nature (and supposing it still in things merely indifferent), to take pleasure in the good of another; and a disposition contrariwise, to take distaste at the good of another?” which is that properly which we call good nature or ill nature, benignity or malignity; and, therefore, I cannot sufficiently marvel that this part of knowledge, touching the several characters of natures and dispositions, should be omitted both in morality and policy, considering it is of so great ministry and suppeditation to them both. A man shall find in the traditions of astrology some pretty and apt divisions of men’s natures, according to the predominances of the planets: lovers of quiet, lovers of action, lovers of victory, lovers of honour, lovers of pleasure, lovers of arts, lovers of change, and so forth. A man shall find in the wisest sort of these relations which the Italians make touching conclaves, the natures of the several cardinals handsomely and lively painted forth. A man shall meet with in every day’s conference the denominations of sensitive, dry, formal, real, humorous, certain, _huomo di prima impressione_, _huomo di ultima impressione_, and the like; and yet, nevertheless, this kind of observations wandereth in words, but is not fixed in inquiry. For the distinctions are found (many of them), but we conclude no precepts upon them: wherein our fault is the greater, because both history, poesy, and daily experience are as goodly fields where these observations grow; whereof we make a few posies to hold in our hands, but no man bringeth them to the confectionary that receipts might be made of them for use of life.

(5) Of much like kind are those impressions of Nature, which are imposed upon the mind by the sex, by the age, by the region, by health and sickness, by beauty and deformity, and the like, which are inherent and not extern; and again, those which are caused by extern fortune, as sovereignty, nobility, obscure birth, riches, want, magistracy, privateness, prosperity, adversity, constant fortune, variable fortune, rising _per saltum_, _per gradus_, and the like. And, therefore, we see that Plautus maketh it a wonder to see an old man beneficent, _benignitas hujis ut adolescentuli est_. Saint Paul concludeth that severity of discipline was to be used to the Cretans, _increpa eos dure_, upon the disposition of their country, _Cretensus semper mendaces_, _malæ bestiæ_, _ventres_. Sallust noteth that it is usual with kings to desire contradictories: _Sed plerumque regiæ voluntates_, _ut vehementes sunt_, _sic mobiles_, _sæpeque ipsæ sibi advers_. Tacitus observeth how rarely raising of the fortune mendeth the disposition: _solus Vespasianus mutatus in melius_. Pindarus maketh an observation, that great and sudden fortune for the most part defeateth men _qui magnam felicitatem concoquere non possunt_. So the Psalm showeth it is more easy to keep a measure in the enjoying of fortune, than in the increase of fortune; _Divitiæ si affluant_, _nolite cor apponere_. These observations and the like I deny not but are touched a little by Aristotle as in passage in his Rhetorics, and are handled in some scattered discourses; but they were never incorporate into moral philosophy, to which they do essentially appertain; as the knowledge of this diversity of grounds and moulds doth to agriculture, and the knowledge of the diversity of complexions and constitutions doth to the physician, except we mean to follow the indiscretion of empirics, which minister the same medicines to all patients.

(6) Another article of this knowledge is the inquiry touching the affections; for as in medicining of the body, it is in order first to know the divers complexions and constitutions; secondly, the diseases; and lastly, the cures: so in medicining of the mind, after knowledge of the divers characters of men’s natures, it followeth in order to know the diseases and infirmities of the mind, which are no other than the perturbations and distempars of the affections. For as the ancient politiques in popular estates were wont to compare the people to the sea, and the orators to the winds; because as the sea would of itself be calm and quiet, if the winds did not move and trouble it; so the people would be peaceable and tractable if the seditious orators did not set them in working and agitation: so it may be fitly said, that the mind in the nature thereof would be temperate and stayed, if the affections, as winds, did not put it into tumult and perturbation. And here again I find strange, as before, that Aristotle should have written divers volumes of Ethics, and never handled the affections which is the principal subject thereof; and yet in his Rhetorics, where they are considered but collaterally and in a second degree (as they may be moved by speech), he findeth place for them, and handleth them well for the quantity; but where their true place is he pretermitteth them. For it is not his disputations about pleasure and pain that can satisfy this inquiry, no more than he that should generally handle the nature of light can be said to handle the nature of colours; for pleasure and pain are to the particular affections as light is to particular colours. Better travails, I suppose, had the Stoics taken in this argument, as far as I can gather by that which we have at second hand. But yet it is like it was after their manner, rather in subtlety of definitions (which in a subject of this nature are but curiosities), than in active and ample descriptions and observations. So likewise I find some particular writings of an elegant nature, touching some of the affections: as of anger, of comfort upon adverse accidents, of tenderness of countenance, and other. But the poets and writers of histories are the best doctors of this knowledge; where we may find painted forth, with great life, how affections are kindled and incited; and how pacified and refrained; and how again contained from act and further degree; how they disclose themselves; how they work; how they vary; how they gather and fortify: how they are enwrapped one within another; and how they do fight and encounter one with another; and other the like particularities. Amongst the which this last is of special use in moral and civil matters; how, I say, to set affection against affection, and to master one by another; even as we used to hunt beast with beast, and fly bird with bird, which otherwise percase we could not so easily recover: upon which foundation is erected that excellent use of _præmium_ and _pæna_, whereby civil states consist: employing the predominant affections of fear and hope, for the suppressing and bridling the rest. For as in the government of states it is sometimes necessary to bridle one faction with another, so it is in the government within.

(7) Now come we to those points which are within our own command, and have force and operation upon the mind, to affect the will and appetite, and to alter manners: wherein they ought to have handled custom, exercise, habit, education, example, imitation, emulation, company, friends, praise, reproof, exhortation, fame, laws, books, studies: these as they have determinate use in moralities, from these the mind suffereth, and of these are such receipts and regiments compounded and described, as may serve to recover or preserve the health and good estate of the mind, as far as pertaineth to human medicine: of which number we will insist upon some one or two, as an example of the rest, because it were too long to prosecute all; and therefore we do resume custom and habit to speak of.

(8) The opinion of Aristotle seemeth to me a negligent opinion, that of those things which consist by Nature, nothing can be changed by custom; using for example, that if a stone be thrown ten thousand times up it will not learn to ascend; and that by often seeing or hearing we do not learn to see or hear the better. For though this principle be true in things wherein Nature is peremptory (the reason whereof we cannot now stand to discuss), yet it is otherwise in things wherein Nature admitteth a latitude. For he might see that a strait glove will come more easily on with use; and that a wand will by use bend otherwise than it grew; and that by use of the voice we speak louder and stronger; and that by use of enduring heat or cold we endure it the better, and the like: which latter sort have a nearer resemblance unto that subject of manners he handleth, than those instances which he allegeth. But allowing his conclusion, that virtues and vices consist in habit, he ought so much the more to have taught the manner of superinducing that habit: for there be many precepts of the wise ordering the exercises of the mind, as there is of ordering the exercises of the body, whereof we will recite a few.

(9) The first shall be, that we beware we take not at the first either too high a strain or too weak: for if too high, in a diffident nature you discourage, in a confident nature you breed an opinion of facility, and so a sloth; and in all natures you breed a further expectation than can hold out, and so an insatisfaction in the end: if too weak, of the other side, you may not look to perform and overcome any great task.

(10) Another precept is to practise all things chiefly at two several times, the one when the mind is best disposed, the other when it is worst disposed; that by the one you may gain a great step, by the other you may work out the knots and stonds of the mind, and make the middle times the more easy and pleasant.

(11) Another precept is that which Aristotle mentioneth by the way, which is to bear ever towards the contrary extreme of that whereunto we are by nature inclined; like unto the rowing against the stream, or making a wand straight by bending him contrary to his natural crookedness.

(12) Another precept is that the mind is brought to anything better, and with more sweetness and happiness, if that whereunto you pretend be not first in the intention, but _tanquam aliud agendo_, because of the natural hatred of the mind against necessity and constraint. Many other axioms there are touching the managing of exercise and custom, which being so conducted doth prove indeed another nature; but, being governed by chance, doth commonly prove but an ape of Nature, and bringeth forth that which is lame and counterfeit.

(13) So if we should handle books and studies, and what influence and operation they have upon manners, are there not divers precepts of great caution and direction appertaining thereunto? Did not one of the fathers in great indignation call poesy _vinum dæmonum_, because it increaseth temptations, perturbations, and vain opinions? Is not the opinion of Aristotle worthy to be regarded, wherein he saith, “That young men are no fit auditors of moral philosophy, because they are not settled from the boiling heat of their affections, nor attempered with time and experience”? And doth it not hereof come, that those excellent books and discourses of the ancient writers (whereby they have persuaded unto virtue most effectually, by representing her in state and majesty, and popular opinions against virtue in their parasites’ coats fit to be scorned and derided), are of so little effect towards honesty of life, because they are not read and revolved by men in their mature and settled years, but confined almost to boys and beginners? But is it not true also, that much less young men are fit auditors of matters of policy, till they have been thoroughly seasoned in religion and morality; lest their judgments be corrupted, and made apt to think that there are no true differences of things, but according to utility and fortune, as the verse describes it, _Prosperum et felix scelus virtus vocatur_; and again, _Ille crucem pretium sceleris tulit_, _hic diadema_: which the poets do speak satirically and in indignation on virtue’s behalf; but books of policy do speak it seriously and positively; for so it pleaseth Machiavel to say, “That if Cæsar had been overthrown, he would have been more odious than ever was Catiline;” as if there had been no difference, but in fortune, between a very fury of lust and blood, and the most excellent spirit (his ambition reserved) of the world? Again, is there not a caution likewise to be given of the doctrines of moralities themselves (some kinds of them), lest they make men too precise, arrogant, incompatible; as Cicero saith of Cato, _In Marco Catone hæc bona quæ videmus divina et egregia_, _ipsius scitote esse propria_; _quæ nonunquam requirimus ea sunt omnia non a natura_, _sed a magistro_? Many other axioms and advices there are touching those proprieties and effects, which studies do infuse and instil into manners. And so, likewise, is there touching the use of all those other points, of company, fame, laws, and the rest, which we recited in the beginning in the doctrine of morality.

(14) But there is a kind of culture of the mind that seemeth yet more accurate and elaborate than the rest, and is built upon this ground; that the minds of all men are at some times in a state more perfect, and at other times in a state more depraved. The purpose, therefore, of this practice is to fix and cherish the good hours of the mind, and to obliterate and take forth the evil. The fixing of the good hath been practised by two means, vows or constant resolutions, and observances or exercises; which are not to be regarded so much in themselves, as because they keep the mind in continual obedience. The obliteration of the evil hath been practised by two means, some kind of redemption or expiation of that which is past, and an inception or account _de novo_ for the time to come. But this part seemeth sacred and religious, and justly; for all good moral philosophy (as was said) is but a handmaid to religion.

(15) Wherefore we will conclude with that last point, which is of all other means the most compendious and summary, and again, the most noble and effectual to the reducing of the mind unto virtue and good estate; which is, the electing and propounding unto a man’s self good and virtuous ends of his life, such as may be in a reasonable sort within his compass to attain. For if these two things be supposed, that a man set before him honest and good ends, and again, that he be resolute, constant, and true unto them; it will follow that he shall mould himself into all virtue at once. And this indeed is like the work of nature; whereas the other course is like the work of the hand. For as when a carver makes an image, he shapes only that part whereupon he worketh; as if he be upon the face, that part which shall be the body is but a rude stone still, till such times as he comes to it. But contrariwise when nature makes a flower or living creature, she formeth rudiments of all the parts at one time. So in obtaining virtue by habit, while a man practiseth temperance, he doth not profit much to fortitude, nor the like but when he dedicateth and applieth himself to good ends, look, what virtue soever the pursuit and passage towards those ends doth commend unto him, he is invested of a precedent disposition to conform himself thereunto. Which state of mind Aristotle doth excellently express himself, that it ought not to be called virtuous, but divine. His words are these: _Immanitati autem consentaneum est opponere eam_, _quæ supra humanitatem est_, _heroicam sive divinam virtutem_; and a little after, _Nam ut feræ neque vitium neque virtus est_, _swic neque Dei_: _sed hic quidem status altius quiddam virtute est_, _ille aluid quiddam a vitio_. And therefore we may see what celsitude of honour Plinius Secundus attributeth to Trajan in his funeral oration, where he said, “That men needed to make no other prayers to the gods, but that they would continue as good lords to them as Trajan had been;” as if he had not been only an imitation of divine nature, but a pattern of it. But these be heathen and profane passages, having but a shadow of that divine state of mind, which religion and the holy faith doth conduct men unto, by imprinting upon their souls charity, which is excellently called the bond of perfection, because it comprehendeth and fasteneth all virtues together. And as it is elegantly said by Menander of vain love, which is but a false imitation of divine love, _Amor melior Sophista lœvo ad humanam vitam_—that love teacheth a man to carry himself better than the sophist or preceptor; which he calleth left-handed, because, with all his rules and preceptions, he cannot form a man so dexterously, nor with that facility to prize himself and govern himself, as love can do: so certainly, if a man’s mind be truly inflamed with charity, it doth work him suddenly into greater perfection than all the doctrine of morality can do, which is but a sophist in comparison of the other. Nay, further, as Xenophon observed truly, that all other affections, though they raise the mind, yet they do it by distorting and uncomeliness of ecstasies or excesses; but only love doth exalt the mind, and nevertheless at the same instant doth settle and compose it: so in all other excellences, though they advance nature, yet they are subject to excess. Only charity admitteth no excess. For so we see, aspiring to be like God in power, the angels transgressed and fell; _Ascendam_, _et ero similis altissimo_: by aspiring to be like God in knowledge, man transgressed and fell; _Eritis sicut Dii_, _scientes bonum et malum_: but by aspiring to a similitude of God in goodness or love, neither man nor angel ever transgressed, or shall transgress. For unto that imitation we are called: _Diligite inimicos vestros_, _benefacite eis qui oderunt vos_, _et orate pro persequentibus et calumniantibus vos_, _ut sitis filii Patris vestri qui in cœlis est_, _qui solem suum oriri facit super bonos et malos_, _et pluit super justos et injustos_. So in the first platform of the divine nature itself, the heathen religion speaketh thus, _Optimus Maximus_: and the sacred Scriptures thus, _Miscericordia ejus super omnia opera ejus_.

(16) Wherefore I do conclude this part of moral knowledge, concerning the culture and regiment of the mind; wherein if any man, considering the arts thereof which I have enumerated, do judge that my labour is but to collect into an art or science that which hath been pretermitted by others, as matter of common sense and experience, he judgeth well. But as Philocrates sported with Demosthenes, “You may not marvel (Athenians) that Demosthenes and I do differ; for he drinketh water, and I drink wine;” and like as we read of an ancient parable of the two gates of sleep—

“Sunt geminæ somni portæ: quarum altera fertur Cornea, qua veris facilis datur exitus umbris: Altera candenti perfecta nitens elephanto, Sed falsa ad cœlum mittunt insomnia manes:”

so if we put on sobriety and attention, we shall find it a sure maxim in knowledge, that the more pleasant liquor (“of wine”) is the more vaporous, and the braver gate (“of ivory”) sendeth forth the falser dreams.

(17) But we have now concluded that general part of human philosophy, which contemplateth man segregate, and as he consisteth of body and spirit. Wherein we may further note, that there seemeth to be a relation or conformity between the good of the mind and the good of the body. For as we divided the good of the body into health, beauty, strength, and pleasure, so the good of the mind, inquired in rational and moral knowledges, tendeth to this, to make the mind sound, and without perturbation; beautiful, and graced with decency; and strong and agile for all duties of life. These three, as in the body, so in the mind, seldom meet, and commonly sever. For it is easy to observe, that many have strength of wit and courage, but have neither health from perturbations, nor any beauty or decency in their doings; some again have an elegancy and fineness of carriage which have neither soundness of honesty nor substance of sufficiency; and some again have honest and reformed minds, that can neither become themselves nor manage business; and sometimes two of them meet, and rarely all three. As for pleasure, we have likewise determined that the mind ought not to be reduced to stupid, but to retain pleasure; confined rather in the subject of it, than in the strength and vigour of it.

XXIII. (1) Civil knowledge is conversant about a subject which of all others is most immersed in matter, and hardliest reduced to axiom. Nevertheless, as Cato the Censor said, “That the Romans were like sheep, for that a man were better drive a flock of them, than one of them; for in a flock, if you could get but some few go right, the rest would follow:” so in that respect moral philosophy is more difficile than policy. Again, moral philosophy propoundeth to itself the framing of internal goodness; but civil knowledge requireth only an external goodness; for that as to society sufficeth. And therefore it cometh oft to pass that there be evil times in good governments: for so we find in the Holy story, when the kings were good, yet it is added, _Sed adhuc poulus non direxerat cor suum ad Dominum Deum patrum suorum_. Again, states, as great engines, move slowly, and are not so soon put out of frame: for as in Egypt the seven good years sustained the seven bad, so governments for a time well grounded do bear out errors following; but the resolution of particular persons is more suddenly subverted. These respects do somewhat qualify the extreme difficulty of civil knowledge.

(2) This knowledge hath three parts, according to the three summary

## actions of society; which are conversation, negotiation, and government.

For man seeketh in society comfort, use, and protection; and they be three wisdoms of divers natures which do often sever—wisdom of the behaviour, wisdom of business, and wisdom of state.

(3) The wisdom of conversation ought not to be over much affected, but much less despised; for it hath not only an honour in itself, but an influence also into business and government. The poet saith, _Nec vultu destrue verba tuo_: a man may destroy the force of his words with his countenance; so may he of his deeds, saith Cicero, recommending to his brother affability and easy access; _Nil interest habere ostium apertum_, _vultum clausum_: it is nothing won to admit men with an open door, and to receive them with a shut and reserved countenance. So we see Atticus, before the first interview between Cæsar and Cicero, the war depending, did seriously advise Cicero touching the composing and ordering of his countenance and gesture. And if the government of the countenance be of such effect, much more is that of the speech, and other carriage appertaining to conversation; the true model whereof seemeth to me well expressed by Livy, though not meant for this purpose: _Ne aut arrogans videar_, _aut obnoxius_; _quorum alterum est àlienæ libertatis obliti_, _alterum suæ_: the sum of behaviour is to retain a man’s own dignity, without intruding upon the liberty of others. On the other side, if behaviour and outward carriage be intended too much, first it may pass into affectation, and then _Quid deformius quam scenam in vitam transferre_—to act a man’s life? But although it proceed not to that extreme, yet it consumeth time, and employeth the mind too much. And therefore as we use to advise young students from company keeping, by saying, _Amici fures temporis_: so certainly the intending of the discretion of behaviour is a great thief of meditation. Again, such as are accomplished in that form of urbanity please themselves in it, and seldom aspire to higher virtue; whereas those that have defect in it do seek comeliness by reputation; for where reputation is, almost everything becometh; but where that is not, it must be supplied by _puntos_ and compliments. Again, there is no greater impediment of action than an over-curious observance of decency, and the guide of decency, which is time and season. For as Solomon saith, _Qui respicit ad ventos_, _non seminat_; _et qui respicit ad nubes_, _non metet_: a man must make his opportunity, as oft as find it. To conclude, behaviour seemeth to me as a garment of the mind, and to have the conditions of a garment. For it ought to be made in fashion; it ought not to be too curious; it ought to be shaped so as to set forth any good making of the mind and hide any deformity; and above all, it ought not to be too strait or restrained for exercise or motion. But this part of civil knowledge hath been elegantly handled, and therefore I cannot report it for deficient.

(4) The wisdom touching negotiation or business hath not been hitherto collected into writing, to the great derogation of learning and the professors of learning. For from this root springeth chiefly that note or opinion, which by us is expressed in adage to this effect, that there is no great concurrence between learning and wisdom. For of the three wisdoms which we have set down to pertain to civil life, for wisdom of behaviour, it is by learned men for the most part despised, as an inferior to virtue and an enemy to meditation; for wisdom of government, they acquit themselves well when they are called to it, but that happeneth to few; but for the wisdom of business, wherein man’s life is most conversant, there be no books of it, except some few scattered advertisements, that have no proportion to the magnitude of this subject. For if books were written of this as the other, I doubt not but learned men with mean experience would far excel men of long experience without learning, and outshoot them in their own bow.

(5) Neither needeth it at all to be doubted, that this knowledge should be so variable as it falleth not under precept; for it is much less infinite than science of government, which we see is laboured and in some part reduced. Of this wisdom it seemeth some of the ancient Romans in the saddest and wisest times were professors; for Cicero reporteth, that it was then in use for senators that had name and opinion for general wise men, as Coruncanius, Curius, Lælius, and many others, to walk at certain hours in the Place, and to give audience to those that would use their advice; and that the particular citizens would resort unto them, and consult with them of the marriage of a daughter, or of the employing of a son, or of a purchase or bargain, or of an accusation, and every other occasion incident to man’s life. So as there is a wisdom of counsel and advice even in private causes, arising out of a universal insight into the affairs of the world; which is used indeed upon

## particular causes propounded, but is gathered by general observation of

causes of like nature. For so we see in the book which Q. Cicero writeth to his brother, _De petitione consulatus_ (being the only book of business that I know written by the ancients), although it concerned a

## particular action then on foot, yet the substance thereof consisteth of

many wise and politic axioms, which contain not a temporary, but a perpetual direction in the case of popular elections. But chiefly we may see in those aphorisms which have place amongst divine writings, composed by Solomon the king, of whom the Scriptures testify that his heart was as the sands of the sea, encompassing the world and all worldly matters, we see, I say, not a few profound and excellent cautions, precepts, positions, extending to much variety of occasions; whereupon we will stay a while, offering to consideration some number of examples.

(6) _Sed et cunctis sermonibus qui dicuntur ne accommodes aurem tuam_, _ne forte audias servum tuum maledicentem tibi_. Here is commended the provident stay of inquiry of that which we would be loth to find: as it was judged great wisdom in Pompeius Magnus that he burned Sertorius’ papers unperused.

_Vir sapiens_, _si cum stulto contenderit_, _sive irascatur_, _sive rideat_, _non inveniet requiem_. Here is described the great disadvantage which a wise man hath in undertaking a lighter person than himself; which is such an engagement as, whether a man turn the matter to jest, or turn it to heat, or howsoever he change copy, he can no ways quit himself well of it.

_Qui delicate a pueritia nutrit servum suum_, _postea sentiet eum contumacem_. Here is signified, that if a man begin too high a pitch in his favours, it doth commonly end in unkindness and unthankfulness.

_Vidisti virum velocem in opere suo_? _coram regibus stabit_, _nec erit inter ignobiles_. Here is observed, that of all virtues for rising to honour, quickness of despatch is the best; for superiors many times love not to have those they employ too deep or too sufficient, but ready and diligent.

_Vidi cunctos viventes qui ambulant sub sole_, _cum adolescente secundo qui consurgit pro eo_. Here is expressed that which was noted by Sylla first, and after him by Tiberius. _Plures adorant solem orientem quam occidentem vel meridianum_.

_Si spiritus potestatem habentis ascenderit super te_, _locum tuum ne demiseris_; _quia curatio faciet cessare peccata maxima_. Here caution is given, that upon displeasure, retiring is of all courses the unfittest; for a man leaveth things at worst, and depriveth himself of means to make them better.

_Erat civitas parva_, _et pauci in ea viri_: _venit contra eam rex magnus_, _et vallavit eam_, _instruxitque munitones per gyrum_, _et perfecta est obsidio_; _inventusque est in ea vir pauper et sapiens_, _et liberavit eam per sapientiam suam_; _et nullus deinceps recordatus est huminis illius pauperis_. Here the corruption of states is set forth, that esteem not virtue or merit longer than they have use of it.

_Millis responsio frangit iram_. Here is noted that silence or rough answer exasperateth; but an answer present and temperate pacifieth.

_Iter pigrorum quasi sepes spinarum_. Here is lively represented how laborious sloth proveth in the end; for when things are deferred till the last instant, and nothing prepared beforehand, every step findeth a briar or impediment, which catcheth or stoppeth.

_Melior est finis orationis quam principium_. Here is taxed the vanity of formal speakers, that study more about prefaces and inducements, than upon the conclusions and issues of speech.

_Qui cognoscit in judicio faciem_, _non bene facit_; _iste et pro buccella panis deseret veritatem_. Here is noted, that a judge were better be a briber than a respecter of persons; for a corrupt judge offendeth not so lightly as a facile.

_Vir pauper calumnians pauperes simils est imbri vehementi_, _in quo paratur fames_. Here is expressed the extremity of necessitous extortions, figured in the ancient fable of the full and the hungry horseleech.

_Fons turbatus pede_, _et vena corrupta_, _est justus cadens coram impio_. Here is noted, that one judicial and exemplar iniquity in the face of the world doth trouble the fountains of justice more than many

## particular injuries passed over by connivance.

_Qui subtrahit aliquid a patre et a matre_, _et dicit hoc non esse peccatum_, _particeps est homicidii_. Here is noted that, whereas men in wronging their best friends use to extenuate their fault, as if they might presume or be bold upon them, it doth contrariwise indeed aggravate their fault, and turneth it from injury to impiety.

_Noli esse amicus homini iracundo_, _nec ambulato cum homine furioso_. Here caution is given, that in the election of our friends we do principally avoid those which are impatient, as those that will espouse us to many factions and quarrels.

_Qui conturbat domum suam_, _possidebit ventum_. Here is noted, that in domestical separations and breaches men do promise to themselves quieting of their mind and contentment; but still they are deceived of their expectation, and it turneth to wind.

_Filius sapiens lætificat patrem_: _filius vero stultus mæstitia est matri suæ_. Here is distinguished, that fathers have most comfort of the good proof of their sons; but mothers have most discomfort of their ill proof, because women have little discerning of virtue, but of fortune.

_Qui celat delictum_, _quærit amicitiam_; _sed qui altero sermone repetit_, _separat fæderatos_. Here caution is given, that reconcilement is better managed by an amnesty, and passing over that which is past, than by apologies and excuses.

_In omni opere bono erit abundantia_; _ubi autem verba sunt plurima_, _ibi frequenter egestas_. Here is noted, that words and discourse aboundeth most where there is idleness and want.

_Primus in sua causa justus_: _sed venit altera pars_, _et inquiret in eum_. Here is observed, that in all causes the first tale possesseth much; in sort, that the prejudice thereby wrought will be hardly removed, except some abuse or falsity in the information be detected.

_Verba bilinguis quasi simplicia_, _et ipsa perveniunt ad interiora ventris_. Here is distinguished, that flattery and insinuation, which seemeth set and artificial, sinketh not far; but that entereth deep which hath show of nature, liberty, and simplicity.

_Qui erudit derisorem_, _ipse sibi injuriam facit_; _et qui arguit impium_, _sibi maculam generat_. Here caution is given how we tender reprehension to arrogant and scornful natures, whose manner is to esteem it for contumely, and accordingly to return it.

_Da sapienti occasionem_, _et addetur ei sapientia_. Here is distinguished the wisdom brought into habit, and that which is but verbal and swimming only in conceit; for the one upon the occasion presented is quickened and redoubled, the other is amazed and confused.

_Quomodo in aquis resplendent vultus prospicientium_, _sic corda hominum manifesta sunt prudentibus_. Here the mind of a wise man is compared to a glass, wherein the images of all diversity of natures and customs are represented; from which representation proceedeth that application,

“Qui sapit, innumeris moribus aptus erit.”

(7) Thus have I stayed somewhat longer upon these sentences politic of Solomon than is agreeable to the proportion of an example; led with a desire to give authority to this part of knowledge, which I noted as deficient, by so excellent a precedent; and have also attended them with brief observations, such as to my understanding offer no violence to the sense, though I know they may be applied to a more divine use: but it is allowed, even in divinity, that some interpretations, yea, and some writings, have more of the eagle than others; but taking them as instructions for life, they might have received large discourse, if I would have broken them and illustrated them by deducements and examples.

(8) Neither was this in use only with the Hebrews, but it is generally to be found in the wisdom of the more ancient times; that as men found out any observation that they thought was good for life, they would gather it and express it in parable or aphorism or fable. But for fables, they were vicegerents and supplies where examples failed: now that the times abound with history, the aim is better when the mark is alive. And therefore the form of writing which of all others is fittest for this variable argument of negotiation and occasions is that which Machiavel chose wisely and aptly for government; namely, discourse upon histories or examples. For knowledge drawn freshly and in our view out of

## particulars, knoweth the way best to particulars again. And it hath much

greater life for practice when the discourse attendeth upon the example, than when the example attendeth upon the discourse. For this is no point of order, as it seemeth at first, but of substance. For when the example is the ground, being set down in a history at large, it is set down with all circumstances, which may sometimes control the discourse thereupon made, and sometimes supply it, as a very pattern for action; whereas the examples alleged for the discourse’s sake are cited succinctly, and without particularity, and carry a servile aspect towards the discourse which they are brought in to make good.

(9) But this difference is not amiss to be remembered, that as history of times is the best ground for discourse of government, such as Machiavel handleth, so histories of lives is the most popular for discourse of business, because it is more conversant in private actions. Nay, there is a ground of discourse for this purpose fitter than them both, which is discourse upon letters, such as are wise and weighty, as many are of Cicero _ad Atticum_, and others. For letters have a great and more

## particular representation of business than either chronicles or lives.

Thus have we spoken both of the matter and form of this part of civil knowledge, touching negotiation, which we note to be deficient.

(10) But yet there is another part of this part, which differeth as much from that whereof we have spoken as _sapere_ and _sibi sapere_, the one moving as it were to the circumference, the other to the centre. For there is a wisdom of counsel, and again there is a wisdom of pressing a man’s own fortune; and they do sometimes meet, and often sever. For many are wise in their own ways that are weak for government or counsel; like ants, which is a wise creature for itself, but very hurtful for the garden. This wisdom the Romans did take much knowledge of: _Nam pol sapiens_ (saith the comical poet) _fingit fortunam sibi_; and it grew to an adage, _Faber quisque fortunæ propriæ_; and Livy attributed it to Cato the first, _In hoc viro tanta vis animi et ingenii inerat_, _ut quocunque loco natus esset sibi ipse fortunam facturus videretur_.

(11) This conceit or position, if it be too much declared and professed, hath been thought a thing impolitic and unlucky, as was observed in Timotheus the Athenian, who, having done many great services to the state in his government, and giving an account thereof to the people as the manner was, did conclude every particular with this clause, “And in this fortune had no part.” And it came so to pass, that he never prospered in anything he took in hand afterwards. For this is too high and too arrogant, savouring of that which Ezekiel saith of Pharaoh, _Dicis_, _Fluvius est neus et ego feci memet ipsum_; or of that which another prophet speaketh, that men offer sacrifices to their nets and snares; and that which the poet expresseth,

“Dextra mihi Deus, et telum quod missile libro, Nunc adsint!”

For these confidences were ever unhallowed, and unblessed; and, therefore, those that were great politiques indeed ever ascribed their successes to their felicity and not to their skill or virtue. For so Sylla surnamed himself Felix, not Magnus. So Cæsar said to the master of the ship, _Cæsarem portas et fortunam ejus_.

(12) But yet, nevertheless, these positions, _Faber quisque fortunæ suæ_: _Sapiens dominabitur astris_: _Invia virtuti null est via_, and the like, being taken and used as spurs to industry, and not as stirrups to insolency, rather for resolution than for the presumption or outward declaration, have been ever thought sound and good; and are no question imprinted in the greatest minds, who are so sensible of this opinion as they can scarce contain it within. As we see in Augustus Cæsar (who was rather diverse from his uncle than inferior in virtue), how when he died he desired his friends about him to give him a _plaudite_, as if he were conscious to himself that he had played his part well upon the stage. This part of knowledge we do report also as deficient; not but that it is practised too much, but it hath not been reduced to writing. And, therefore, lest it should seem to any that it is not comprehensible by axiom, it is requisite, as we did in the former, that we set down some heads or passages of it.

(13) Wherein it may appear at the first a new and unwonted argument to teach men how to raise and make their fortune; a doctrine wherein every man perchance will be ready to yield himself a disciple, till he see the difficulty: for fortune layeth as heavy impositions as virtue; and it is as hard and severe a thing to be a true politique, as to be truly moral. But the handling hereof concerneth learning greatly, both in honour and in substance. In honour, because pragmatical men may not go away with an opinion that learning is like a lark, that can mount and sing, and please herself, and nothing else; but may know that she holdeth as well of the hawk, that can soar aloft, and can also descend and strike upon the prey. In substance, because it is the perfect law of inquiry of truth, that nothing be in the globe of matter, which should not be likewise in the globe of crystal or form; that is, that there be not anything in being and action which should not be drawn and collected into contemplation and doctrine. Neither doth learning admire or esteem of this architecture of fortune otherwise than as of an inferior work, for no man’s fortune can be an end worthy of his being, and many times the worthiest men do abandon their fortune willingly for better respects: but nevertheless fortune as an organ of virtue and merit deserveth the consideration.

(14) First, therefore, the precept which I conceive to be most summary towards the prevailing in fortune, is to obtain that window which Momus did require; who seeing in the frame of man’s heart such angles and recesses, found fault there was not a window to look into them; that is, to procure good informations of particulars touching persons, their natures, their desires and ends, their customs and fashions, their helps and advantages, and whereby they chiefly stand, so again their weaknesses and disadvantages, and where they lie most open and obnoxious, their friends, factions, dependences; and again their opposites, enviers, competitors, their moods and times, _Sola viri molles aditus et tempora noras_; their principles, rules, and observations, and the like: and this not only of persons but of actions; what are on foot from time to time, and how they are conducted, favoured, opposed, and how they import, and the like. For the knowledge of present actions is not only material in itself, but without it also the knowledge of persons is very erroneous: for men change with the actions; and whilst they are in pursuit they are one, and when they return to their nature they are another. These informations of particulars, touching persons and actions, are as the minor propositions in every active syllogism; for no excellency of observations (which are as the major propositions) can suffice to ground a conclusion, if there be error and mistaking in the minors.

(15) That this knowledge is possible, Solomon is our surety, who saith, _Consilium in corde viri tanquam aqua profunda_; _sed vir prudens exhauriet illud_. And although the knowledge itself falleth not under precept because it is of individuals, yet the instructions for the obtaining of it may.

(16) We will begin, therefore, with this precept, according to the ancient opinion, that the sinews of wisdom are slowness of belief and distrust; that more trust be given to countenances and deeds than to words; and in words rather to sudden passages and surprised words than to set and purposed words. Neither let that be feared which is said, _Fronti nulla fides_, which is meant of a general outward behaviour, and not of the private and subtle motions and labours of the countenance and gesture; which, as Q. Cicero elegantly saith, is _Animi janua_, “the gate of the mind.” None more close than Tiberius, and yet Tacitus saith of Gallus, _Etenim vultu offensionem conjectaverat_. So again, noting the differing character and manner of his commending Germanicus and Drusus in the Senate, he saith, touching his fashion wherein he carried his speech of Germanicus, thus: _Magis in speciem adornatis verbis_, _quam ut penitus sentire crederetur_; but of Drusus thus: _Paucioribus sed intentior_, _et fida oratione_; and in another place, speaking of his character of speech when he did anything that was gracious and popular, he saith, “That in other things he was _velut eluctantium verborum_;” but then again, _solutius loquebatur quando subveniret_. So that there is no such artificer of dissimulation, nor no such commanded countenance (_vultus jussus_), that can sever from a feigned tale some of these fashions, either a more slight and careless fashion, or more set and formal, or more tedious and wandering, or coming from a man more drily and hardly.

(17) Neither are deeds such assured pledges as that they may be trusted without a judicious consideration of their magnitude and nature: _Fraus sibi in parvis fidem præstruit ut majore emolumento fallat_; and the Italian thinketh himself upon the point to be bought and sold, when he is better used than he was wont to be without manifest cause. For small favours, they do but lull men to sleep, both as to caution and as to industry; and are, as Demosthenes calleth them, _Alimenta socordiæ_. So again we see how false the nature of some deeds are, in that particular which Mutianus practised upon Antonius Primus, upon that hollow and unfaithful reconcilement which was made between them; whereupon Mutianus advanced many of the friends of Antonius, _Simul amicis ejus præfecturas et tribunatus largitur_: wherein, under pretence to strengthen him, he did desolate him, and won from him his dependents.

(18) As for words, though they be like waters to physicians, full of flattery and uncertainty, yet they are not to be despised specially with the advantage of passion and affection. For so we see Tiberius, upon a stinging and incensing speech of Agrippina, came a step forth of his dissimulation when he said, “You are hurt because you do not reign;” of which Tacitus saith, _Audita hæc raram occulti pectoris vocem elicuere_: _correptamque Græco versu admonuit_, _ideo lædi quia non regnaret_. And, therefore, the poet doth elegantly call passions tortures that urge men to confess their secrets:—

“Vino torus et ira.”

And experience showeth there are few men so true to themselves and so settled but that, sometimes upon heat, sometimes upon bravery, sometimes upon kindness, sometimes upon trouble of mind and weakness, they open themselves; specially if they be put to it with a counter-dissimulation, according to the proverb of Spain, _Di mentira_, _y sacar as verdad_: “Tell a lie and find a truth.”

(19) As for the knowing of men which is at second hand from reports: men’s weaknesses and faults are best known from their enemies, their virtues and abilities from their friends, their customs and times from their servants, their conceits and opinions from their familiar friends, with whom they discourse most. General fame is light, and the opinions conceived by superiors or equals are deceitful; for to such men are more masked: _Verior fama e domesticis emanat_.

(20) But the soundest disclosing and expounding of men is by their natures and ends, wherein the weakest sort of men are best interpreted by their natures, and the wisest by their ends. For it was both pleasantly and wisely said (though I think very untruly) by a nuncio of the Pope, returning from a certain nation where he served as lidger; whose opinion being asked touching the appointment of one to go in his place, he wished that in any case they did not send one that was too wise; because no very wise man would ever imagine what they in that country were like to do. And certainly it is an error frequent for men to shoot over, and to suppose deeper ends and more compass reaches than are: the Italian proverb being elegant, and for the most part true:—

“Di danari, di senno, e di fede, C’è ne manco che non credi.”

“There is commonly less money, less wisdom, and less good faith than men do account upon.”

(21) But princes, upon a far other reason, are best interpreted by their natures, and private persons by their ends. For princes being at the top of human desires, they have for the most part no particular ends whereto they aspire, by distance from which a man might take measure and scale of the rest of their actions and desires; which is one of the causes that maketh their hearts more inscrutable. Neither is it sufficient to inform ourselves in men’s ends and natures of the variety of them only, but also of the predominancy, what humour reigneth most, and what end is principally sought. For so we see, when Tigellinus saw himself outstripped by Petronius Turpilianus in Nero’s humours of pleasures, _metus ejus rimatur_, he wrought upon Nero’s fears, whereby he broke the other’s neck.

(22) But to all this part of inquiry the most compendious way resteth in three things; the first, to have general acquaintance and inwardness with those which have general acquaintance and look most into the world; and specially according to the diversity of business, and the diversity of persons, to have privacy and conversation with some one friend at least which is perfect and well-intelligenced in every several kind. The second is to keep a good mediocrity in liberty of speech and secrecy; in most things liberty; secrecy where it importeth; for liberty of speech inviteth and provoketh liberty to be used again, and so bringeth much to a man’s knowledge; and secrecy on the other side induceth trust and inwardness. The last is the reducing of a man’s self to this watchful and serene habit, as to make account and purpose, in every conference and

## action, as well to observe as to act. For as Epictetus would have a

philosopher in every particular action to say to himself, _Et hoc volo_, _et etiam institutum servare_; so a politic man in everything should say to himself, _Et hoc volo_, _ac etiam aliquid addiscere_. I have stayed the longer upon this precept of obtaining good information because it is a main part by itself, which answereth to all the rest. But, above all things, caution must be taken that men have a good stay and hold of themselves, and that this much knowing do not draw on much meddling; for nothing is more unfortunate than light and rash intermeddling in many matters. So that this variety of knowledge tendeth in conclusion but only to this, to make a better and freer choice of those actions which may concern us, and to conduct them with the less error and the more dexterity.

(23) The second precept concerning this knowledge is, for men to take good information touching their own person, and well to understand themselves; knowing that, as St. James saith, though men look oft in a glass, yet they do suddenly forget themselves; wherein as the divine glass is the Word of God, so the politic glass is the state of the world, or times wherein we live, in the which we are to behold ourselves.

(24) For men ought to take an impartial view of their own abilities and virtues; and again of their wants and impediments; accounting these with the most, and those other with the least; and from this view and examination to frame the considerations following.

(25) First, to consider how the constitution of their nature sorteth with the general state of the times; which if they find agreeable and fit, then in all things to give themselves more scope and liberty; but if differing and dissonant, then in the whole course of their life to be more close retired, and reserved; as we see in Tiberius, who was never seen at a play, and came not into the senate in twelve of his last years; whereas Augustus Cæsar lived ever in men’s eyes, which Tacitus observeth, _alia Tiberio morum via_.

(26) Secondly, to consider how their nature sorteth with professions and courses of life, and accordingly to make election, if they be free; and, if engaged, to make the departure at the first opportunity; as we see was done by Duke Valentine, that was designed by his father to a sacerdotal profession, but quitted it soon after in regard of his parts and inclination; being such, nevertheless, as a man cannot tell well whether they were worse for a prince or for a priest.

(27) Thirdly, to consider how they sort with those whom they are like to have competitors and concurrents; and to take that course wherein there is most solitude, and themselves like to be most eminent; as Cæsar Julius did, who at first was an orator or pleader; but when he saw the excellency of Cicero, Hortensius, Catulus, and others for eloquence, and saw there was no man of reputation for the wars but Pompeius, upon whom the state was forced to rely, he forsook his course begun towards a civil and popular greatness, and transferred his designs to a martial greatness.

(28) Fourthly, in the choice of their friends and dependents, to proceed according to the composition of their own nature; as we may see in Cæsar, all whose friends and followers were men active and effectual, but not solemn, or of reputation.

(29) Fifthly, to take special heed how they guide themselves by examples, in thinking they can do as they see others do; whereas perhaps their natures and carriages are far differing. In which error it seemeth Pompey was, of whom Cicero saith that he was wont often to say, _Sylla potuit_, _ego non potero_? Wherein he was much abused, the natures and proceedings of himself and his example being the unlikest in the world; the one being fierce, violent, and pressing the fact; the other solemn, and full of majesty and circumstance, and therefore the less effectual.

But this precept touching the politic knowledge of ourselves hath many other branches, whereupon we cannot insist.

(30) Next to the well understanding and discerning of a man’s self, there followeth the well opening and revealing a man’s self; wherein we see nothing more usual than for the more able man to make the less show. For there is a great advantage in the well setting forth of a man’s virtues, fortunes, merits; and again, in the artificial covering of a man’s weaknesses, defects, disgraces; staying upon the one, sliding from the other; cherishing the one by circumstances, gracing the other by exposition, and the like. Wherein we see what Tacitus saith of Mutianus, who was the greatest politique of his time, _Omnium quæ dixerat feceratque arte quadam ostentator_, which requireth indeed some art, lest it turn tedious and arrogant; but yet so, as ostentation (though it be to the first degree of vanity) seemeth to me rather a vice in manners than in policy; for as it is said, _Audacter calumniare_, _semper aliquid hæret_; so, except it be in a ridiculous degree of deformity, _Audacter te vendita_, _semper aluquid hæret_. For it will stick with the more ignorant and inferior sort of men, though men of wisdom and rank do smile at it and despise it; and yet the authority won with many doth countervail the disdain of a few. But if it be carried with decency and government, as with a natural, pleasant, and ingenious fashion; or at times when it is mixed with some peril and unsafety (as in military persons); or at times when others are most envied; or with easy and careless passage to it and from it, without dwelling too long, or being too serious; or with an equal freedom of taxing a man’s self, as well as gracing himself; or by occasion of repelling or putting down others’ injury or insolency; it doth greatly add to reputation: and surely not a few solid natures, that want this ventosity and cannot sail in the height of the winds, are not without some prejudice and disadvantage by their moderation.

(31) But for these flourishes and enhancements of virtue, as they are not perchance unnecessary, so it is at least necessary that virtue be not disvalued and embased under the just price, which is done in three manners—by offering and obtruding a man’s self, wherein men think he is rewarded when he is accepted; by doing too much, which will not give that which is well done leave to settle, and in the end induceth satiety; and by finding too soon the fruit of a man’s virtue, in commendation, applause, honour, favour; wherein if a man be pleased with a little, let him hear what is truly said: _Cave ne insuetus rebus majoribus videaris_, _si hæc te res parva sicuti magna delectat_.

(32) But the covering of defects is of no less importance than the valuing of good parts; which may be done likewise in three manners—by caution, by colour, and by confidence. Caution is when men do ingeniously and discreetly avoid to be put into those things for which they are not proper; whereas contrariwise bold and unquiet spirits will thrust themselves into matters without difference, and so publish and proclaim all their wants. Colour is when men make a way for themselves to have a construction made of their faults or wants, as proceeding from a better cause or intended for some other purpose. For of the one it is well said,

“Sæpe latet vitium proximitate boni,”

and therefore whatsoever want a man hath, he must see that he pretend the virtue that shadoweth it; as if he be dull, he must affect gravity; if a coward, mildness; and so the rest. For the second, a man must frame some probable cause why he should not do his best, and why he should dissemble his abilities; and for that purpose must use to dissemble those abilities which are notorious in him, to give colour that his true wants are but industries and dissimulations. For confidence, it is the last but the surest remedy—namely, to depress and seem to despise whatsoever a man cannot attain; observing the good principle of the merchants, who endeavour to raise the price of their own commodities, and to beat down the price of others. But there is a confidence that passeth this other, which is to face out a man’s own defects, in seeming to conceive that he is best in those things wherein he is failing; and, to help that again, to seem on the other side that he hath least opinion of himself in those things wherein he is best: like as we shall see it commonly in poets, that if they show their verses, and you except to any, they will say, “That that line cost them more labour than any of the rest;” and presently will seem to disable and suspect rather some other line, which they know well enough to be the best in the number. But above all, in this righting and helping of a man’s self in his own carriage, he must take heed he show not himself dismantled and exposed to scorn and injury, by too much dulceness, goodness, and facility of nature; but show some sparkles of liberty, spirit, and edge. Which kind of fortified carriage, with a ready rescussing of a man’s self from scorns, is sometimes of necessity imposed upon men by somewhat in their person or fortune; but it ever succeedeth with good felicity.

(33) Another precept of this knowledge is by all possible endeavour to frame the mind to be pliant and obedient to occasion; for nothing hindereth men’s fortunes so much as this: _Idem manebat_, _neque idem decebat_—men are where they were, when occasions turn: and therefore to Cato, whom Livy maketh such an architect of fortune, he addeth that he had _versatile ingenium_. And thereof it cometh that these grave solemn wits, which must be like themselves and cannot make departures, have more dignity than felicity. But in some it is nature to be somewhat vicious and enwrapped, and not easy to turn. In some it is a conceit that is almost a nature, which is, that men can hardly make themselves believe that they ought to change their course, when they have found good by it in former experience. For Machiavel noted wisely how Fabius Maximus would have been temporising still, according to his old bias, when the nature of the war was altered and required hot pursuit. In some other it is want of point and penetration in their judgment, that they do not discern when things have a period, but come in too late after the occasion; as Demosthenes compareth the people of Athens to country fellows, when they play in a fence school, that if they have a blow, then they remove their weapon to that ward, and not before. In some other it is a lothness to lose labours passed, and a conceit that they can bring about occasions to their ply; and yet in the end, when they see no other remedy, then they come to it with disadvantage; as Tarquinius, that gave for the third part of Sibylla’s books the treble price, when he might at first have had all three for the simple. But from whatsoever root or cause this restiveness of mind proceedeth, it is a thing most prejudicial; and nothing is more politic than to make the wheels of our mind concentric and voluble with the wheels of fortune.

(34) Another precept of this knowledge, which hath some affinity with that we last spoke of, but with difference, is that which is well expressed, _Fatis accede deisque_, that men do not only turn with the occasions, but also run with the occasions, and not strain their credit or strength to over-hard or extreme points; but choose in their actions that which is most passable: for this will preserve men from foil, not occupy them too much about one matter, win opinion of moderation, please the most, and make a show of a perpetual felicity in all they undertake: which cannot but mightily increase reputation.

(35) Another part of this knowledge seemeth to have some repugnancy with the former two, but not as I understand it; and it is that which Demosthenes uttereth in high terms: _Et quemadmodum receptum est_, _ut exercitum ducat imperator_, _sic et a cordatis viris res ipsæ ducendæ_; _ut quæipsis videntur_, _ea gerantur_, _et non ipsi eventus persequi cogantur_. For if we observe we shall find two differing kinds of sufficiency in managing of business: some can make use of occasions aptly and dexterously, but plot little; some can urge and pursue their own plots well, but cannot accommodate nor take in; either of which is very imperfect without the other.

(36) Another part of this knowledge is the observing a good mediocrity in the declaring or not declaring a man’s self: for although depth of secrecy, and making way (_qualis est via navis in mari_, which the French calleth _sourdes menées_, when men set things in work without opening themselves at all), be sometimes both prosperous and admirable; yet many times _dissimulatio errores parit_, _qui dissimulatorem ipsum illaqueant_. And therefore we see the greatest politiques have in a natural and free manner professed their desires, rather than been reserved and disguised in them. For so we see that Lucius Sylla made a kind of profession, “that he wished all men happy or unhappy, as they stood his friends or enemies.” So Cæsar, when he went first into Gaul, made no scruple to profess “that he had rather be first in a village than second at Rome.” So again, as soon as he had begun the war, we see what Cicero saith of him, _Alter_ (meaning of Cæsar) _non recusat_, _sed quodammodo postulat_, _ut_ (_ut est_) _sic appelletur tyrannus_. So we may see in a letter of Cicero to Atticus, that Augustus Cæsar, in his very entrance into affairs, when he was a darling of the senate, yet in his harangues to the people would swear, _Ita parentis honores consequi liceat_ (which was no less than the tyranny), save that, to help it, he would stretch forth his hand towards a statue of Cæsar’s that was erected in the place: and men laughed and wondered, and said, “Is it possible?” or, “Did you ever hear the like?” and yet thought he meant no hurt; he did it so handsomely and ingenuously. And all these were prosperous: whereas Pompey, who tended to the same ends, but in a more dark and dissembling manner as Tacitus saith of him, _Occultior non melior_, wherein Sallust concurreth, _Ore probo_, _animo inverecundo_, made it his design, by infinite secret engines, to cast the state into an absolute anarchy and confusion, that the state might cast itself into his arms for necessity and protection, and so the sovereign power be put upon him, and he never seen in it: and when he had brought it (as he thought) to that point when he was chosen consul alone, as never any was, yet he could make no great matter of it, because men understood him not; but was fain in the end to go the beaten track of getting arms into his hands, by colour of the doubt of Cæsar’s designs: so tedious, casual, and unfortunate are these deep dissimulations: whereof it seemeth Tacitus made this judgment, that they were a cunning of an inferior form in regard of true policy; attributing the one to Augustus, the other to Tiberius; where, speaking of Livia, he saith, _Et cum artibus mariti simulatione filii bene compostia_: for surely the continual habit of dissimulation is but a weak and sluggish cunning, and not greatly politic.

(37) Another precept of this architecture of fortune is to accustom our minds to judge of the proportion or value of things, as they conduce and are material to our particular ends; and that to do substantially and not superficially. For we shall find the logical part (as I may term it) of some men’s minds good, but the mathematical part erroneous; that is, they can well judge of consequences, but not of proportions and comparison, preferring things of show and sense before things of substance and effect. So some fall in love with access to princes, others with popular fame and applause, supposing they are things of great purchase, when in many cases they are but matters of envy, peril, and impediment. So some measure things according to the labour and difficulty or assiduity which are spent about them; and think, if they be ever moving, that they must needs advance and proceed; as Cæsar saith in a despising manner of Cato the second, when he describeth how laborious and indefatigable he was to no great purpose, _Hæc omnia magno studio agebat_. So in most things men are ready to abuse themselves in thinking the greatest means to be best, when it should be the fittest.

(38) As for the true marshalling of men’s pursuits towards their fortune, as they are more or less material, I hold them to stand thus. First the amendment of their own minds. For the removal of the impediments of the mind will sooner clear the passages of fortune than the obtaining fortune will remove the impediments of the mind. In the second place I set down wealth and means; which I know most men would have placed first, because of the general use which it beareth towards all variety of occasions. But that opinion I may condemn with like reason as Machiavel doth that other, that moneys were the sinews of the wars; whereas (saith he) the true sinews of the wars are the sinews of men’s arms, that is, a valiant, populous, and military nation: and he voucheth aptly the authority of Solon, who, when Crœsus showed him his treasury of gold, said to him, that if another came that had better iron, he would be master of his gold. In like manner it may be truly affirmed that it is not moneys that are the sinews of fortune, but it is the sinews and steel of men’s minds, wit, courage, audacity, resolution, temper, industry, and the like. In the third place I set down reputation, because of the peremptory tides and currents it hath; which, if they be not taken in their due time, are seldom recovered, it being extreme hard to play an after-game of reputation. And lastly I place honour, which is more easily won by any of the other three, much more by all, than any of them can be purchased by honour. To conclude this precept, as there is order and priority in matter, so is there in time, the preposterous placing whereof is one of the commonest errors: while men fly to their ends when they should intend their beginnings, and do not take things in order of time as they come on, but marshal them according to greatness and not according to instance; not observing the good precept, _Quod nunc instat agamus_.

(39) Another precept of this knowledge is not to embrace any matters which do occupy too great a quantity of time, but to have that sounding in a man’s ears, _Sed fugit interea fugit irreparabile tempus_: and that is the cause why those which take their course of rising by professions of burden, as lawyers, orators, painful divines, and the like, are not commonly so politic for their own fortune, otherwise than in their ordinary way, because they want time to learn particulars, to wait occasions, and to devise plots.

(40) Another precept of this knowledge is to imitate nature, which doth nothing in vain; which surely a man may do if he do well interlace his business, and bend not his mind too much upon that which he principally intendeth. For a man ought in every particular action so to carry the motions of his mind, and so to have one thing under another, as if he cannot have that he seeketh in the best degree, yet to have it in a second, or so in a third; and if he can have no part of that which he purposed, yet to turn the use of it to somewhat else; and if he cannot make anything of it for the present, yet to make it as a seed of somewhat in time to come; and if he can contrive no effect or substance from it, yet to win some good opinion by it, or the like. So that he should exact an account of himself of every action, to reap somewhat, and not to stand amazed and confused if he fail of that he chiefly meant: for nothing is more impolitic than to mind actions wholly one by one. For he that doth so loseth infinite occasions which intervene, and are many times more proper and propitious for somewhat that he shall need afterwards, than for that which he urgeth for the present; and therefore men must be perfect in that rule, _Hæc oportet facere_, _et illa non imittere_.

(41) Another precept of this knowledge is, not to engage a man’s self peremptorily in anything, though it seem not liable to accident; but ever to have a window to fly out at, or a way to retire: following the wisdom in the ancient fable of the two frogs, which consulted when their plash was dry whither they should go; and the one moved to go down into a pit, because it was not likely the water would dry there; but the other answered, “True, but if it do, how shall we get out again?”

(42) Another precept of this knowledge is that ancient precept of Bias, construed not to any point of perfidiousness, but to caution and moderation, _Et ama tanquam inimicus futurus et odi tanquam amaturus_. For it utterly betrayeth all utility for men to embark themselves too far into unfortunate friendships, troublesome spleens, and childish and humorous envies or emulations.

(43) But I continue this beyond the measure of an example; led, because I would not have such knowledges, which I note as deficient, to be thought things imaginative or in the air, or an observation or two much made of, but things of bulk and mass, whereof an end is more hardly made than a beginning. It must be likewise conceived, that in these points which I mention and set down, they are far from complete tractates of them, but only as small pieces for patterns. And lastly, no man I suppose will think that I mean fortunes are not obtained without all this ado; for I know they come tumbling into some men’s laps; and a number obtain good fortunes by diligence in a plain way, little intermeddling, and keeping themselves from gross errors.

(44) But as Cicero, when he setteth down an idea of a perfect orator, doth not mean that every pleader should be such; and so likewise, when a prince or a courtier hath been described by such as have handled those subjects, the mould hath used to be made according to the perfection of the art, and not according to common practice: so I understand it, that it ought to be done in the description of a politic man, I mean politic for his own fortune.

(45) But it must be remembered all this while, that the precepts which we have set down are of that kind which may be counted and called _Bonæ Artes_. As for evil arts, if a man would set down for himself that principle of Machiavel, “That a man seek not to attain virtue itself, but the appearance only thereof; because the credit of virtue is a help, but the use of it is cumber:” or that other of his principles, “That he presuppose that men are not fitly to be wrought otherwise but by fear; and therefore that he seek to have every man obnoxious, low, and in straits,” which the Italians call _seminar spine_, to sow thorns: or that other principle, contained in the verse which Cicero citeth, _Cadant amici_, _dummodo inimici intercidant_, as the triumvirs, which sold every one to other the lives of their friends for the deaths of their enemies: or that other protestation of L. Catilina, to set on fire and trouble states, to the end to fish in droumy waters, and to unwrap their fortunes, _Ego si quid in fortunis meis excitatum sit incendium_, _id non aqua sed ruina restinguam_: or that other principle of Lysander, “That children are to be deceived with comfits, and men with oaths:” and the like evil and corrupt positions, whereof (as in all things) there are more in number than of the good: certainly with these dispensations from the laws of charity and integrity, the pressing of a man’s fortune may be more hasty and compendious. But it is in life as it is in ways, the shortest way is commonly the foulest, and surely the fairer way is not much about.

(46) But men, if they be in their own power, and do bear and sustain themselves, and be not carried away with a whirlwind or tempest of ambition, ought in the pursuit of their own fortune to set before their eyes not only that general map of the world, “That all things are vanity and vexation of spirit,” but many other more particular cards and directions: chiefly that, that being without well-being is a curse, and the greater being the greater curse; and that all virtue is most rewarded and all wickedness most punished in itself: according as the poet saith excellently:

“Quæ vobis, quæ digna, viri pro laudibus istis Præmia posse rear solvi? pulcherrima primum Dii _moresque_ dabunt vestri.”

And so of the contrary. And secondly they ought to look up to the Eternal Providence and Divine Judgment, which often subverteth the wisdom of evil plots and imaginations, according to that scripture, “He hath conceived mischief, and shall bring forth a vain thing.” And although men should refrain themselves from injury and evil arts, yet this incessant and Sabbathless pursuit of a man’s fortune leaveth not tribute which we owe to God of our time; who (we see) demandeth a tenth of our substance, and a seventh, which is more strict, of our time: and it is to small purpose to have an erected face towards heaven, and a perpetual grovelling spirit upon earth, eating dust as doth the serpent, _Atque affigit humo divinæ particulam auræ_. And if any man flatter himself that he will employ his fortune well, though he should obtain it ill, as was said concerning Augustus Cæsar, and after of Septimius Severus, “That either they should never have been born, or else they should never have died,” they did so much mischief in the pursuit and ascent of their greatness, and so much good when they were established; yet these compensations and satisfactions are good to be used, but never good to be purposed. And lastly, it is not amiss for men, in their race towards their fortune, to cool themselves a little with that conceit which is elegantly expressed by the Emperor Charles V., in his instructions to the king his son, “That fortune hath somewhat of the nature of a woman, that if she he too much wooed she is the farther off.” But this last is but a remedy for those whose tastes are corrupted: let men rather build upon that foundation which is as a corner-stone of divinity and philosophy, wherein they join close, namely that same _Primum quærite_. For divinity saith, _Primum quærite regnum Dei_, _et ista omnia adjicientur vobis_: and philosophy saith, _Primum quærite bona animi_; _cætera aut aderunt_, _aut non oberunt_. And although the human foundation hath somewhat of the sands, as we see in M. Brutus, when he broke forth into that speech,

“Te colui (Virtus) ut rem; ast tu nomen inane es;”

yet the divine foundation is upon the rock. But this may serve for a taste of that knowledge which I noted as deficient.

(47) Concerning government, it is a part of knowledge secret and retired in both these respects in which things are deemed secret; for some things are secret because they are hard to know, and some because they are not fit to utter. We see all governments are obscure and invisible:

“Totamque infusa per artus Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet.”

Such is the description of governments. We see the government of God over the world is hidden, insomuch as it seemeth to participate of much irregularity and confusion. The government of the soul in moving the body is inward and profound, and the passages thereof hardly to be reduced to demonstration. Again, the wisdom of antiquity (the shadows whereof are in the poets) in the description of torments and pains, next unto the crime of rebellion, which was the giants’ offence, doth detest the offence of futility, as in Sisyphus and Tantalus. But this was meant of particulars: nevertheless even unto the general rules and discourses of policy and government there is due a reverent and reserved handling.

(48) But contrariwise in the governors towards the governed, all things ought as far as the frailty of man permitteth to be manifest and revealed. For so it is expressed in the Scriptures touching the government of God, that this globe, which seemeth to us a dark and shady body, is in the view of God as crystal: _Et in conspectu sedis tanquam mare vitreum simile crystallo_. So unto princes and states, and specially towards wise senates and councils, the natures and dispositions of the people, their conditions and necessities, their factions and combinations, their animosities and discontents, ought to be, in regard of the variety of their intelligences, the wisdom of their observations, and the height of their station where they keep sentinel, in great part clear and transparent. Wherefore, considering that I write to a king that is a master of this science, and is so well assisted, I think it decent to pass over this part in silence, as willing to obtain the certificate which one of the ancient philosophers aspired unto; who being silent, when others contended to make demonstration of their abilities by speech, desired it might be certified for his part, “That there was one that knew how to hold his peace.”

(49) Notwithstanding, for the more public part of government, which is laws, I think good to note only one deficiency; which is, that all those which have written of laws have written either as philosophers or as lawyers, and none as statesmen. As for the philosophers, they make imaginary laws for imaginary commonwealths, and their discourses are as the stars, which give little light because they are so high. For the lawyers, they write according to the states where they live what is received law, and not what ought to be law; for the wisdom of a law-maker is one, and of a lawyer is another. For there are in nature certain fountains of justice whence all civil laws are derived but as streams; and like as waters do take tinctures and tastes from the soils through which they run, so do civil laws vary according to the regions and governments where they are planted, though they proceed from the same fountains. Again, the wisdom of a law-maker consisteth not only in a platform of justice, but in the application thereof; taking into consideration by what means laws may be made certain, and what are the causes and remedies of the doubtfulness and uncertainty of law; by what means laws may be made apt and easy to be executed, and what are the impediments and remedies in the execution of laws; what influence laws touching private right of _meum_ and _tuum_ have into the public state, and how they may be made apt and agreeable; how laws are to be penned and delivered, whether in texts or in Acts, brief or large, with preambles or without; how they are to be pruned and reformed from time to time, and what is the best means to keep them from being too vast in volume, or too full of multiplicity and crossness; how they are to be expounded, when upon causes emergent and judicially discussed, and when upon responses and conferences touching general points or questions; how they are to be pressed, rigorously or tenderly; how they are to be mitigated by equity and good conscience, and whether discretion and strict law are to be mingled in the same courts, or kept apart in several courts; again, how the practice, profession, and erudition of law is to be censured and governed; and many other points touching the administration and (as I may term it) animation of laws. Upon which I insist the less, because I purpose (if God give me leave), having begun a work of this nature in aphorisms, to propound it hereafter, noting it in the meantime for deficient.

(50) And for your Majesty’s laws of England, I could say much of their dignity, and somewhat of their defect; but they cannot but excel the civil laws in fitness for the government, for the civil law was _nonhos quæsitum munus in usus_; it was not made for the countries which it governeth. Hereof I cease to speak because I will not intermingle matter of action with matter of general learning.

XXIV. Thus have I concluded this portion of learning touching civil knowledge; and with civil knowledge have concluded human philosophy; and with human philosophy, philosophy in general. And being now at some pause, looking back into that I have passed through, this writing seemeth to me (_si nunquam fallit imago_), as far as a man can judge of his own work, not much better than that noise or sound which musicians make while they are in tuning their instruments, which is nothing pleasant to hear, but yet is a cause why the music is sweeter afterwards. So have I been content to tune the instruments of the Muses, that they may play that have better hands. And surely, when I set before me the condition of these times, in which learning hath made her third visitation or circuit in all the qualities thereof; as the excellency and vivacity of the wits of this age; the noble helps and lights which we have by the travails of ancient writers; the art of printing, which communicateth books to men of all fortunes; the openness of the world by navigation, which hath disclosed multitudes of experiments, and a mass of natural history; the leisure wherewith these times abound, not employing men so generally in civil business, as the states of Græcia did, in respect of their popularity, and the state of Rome, in respect of the greatness of their monarchy; the present disposition of these times at this instant to peace; the consumption of all that ever can be said in controversies of religion, which have so much diverted men from other sciences; the perfection of your Majesty’s learning, which as a phœnix may call whole volleys of wits to follow you; and the inseparable propriety of time, which is ever more and more to disclose truth; I cannot but be raised to this persuasion, that this third period of time will far surpass that of the Grecian and Roman learning; only if men will know their own strength and their own weakness both; and take, one from the other, light of invention, and not fire of contradiction; and esteem of the inquisition of truth as of an enterprise, and not as of a quality or ornament; and employ wit and magnificence to things of worth and excellency, and not to things vulgar and of popular estimation. As for my labours, if any man shall please himself or others in the reprehension of them, they shall make that ancient and patient request, _Verbera_, _sed audi_: let men reprehend them, so they observe and weigh them. For the appeal is lawful (though it may be it shall not be needful) from the first cogitations of men to their second, and from the nearer times to the times further off. Now let us come to that learning, which both the former times were not so blessed as to know, sacred and inspired divinity, the Sabbath and port of all men’s labours and peregrinations.

XXV. (1) The prerogative of God extendeth as well to the reason as to the will of man: so that as we are to obey His law, though we find a reluctation in our will, so we are to believe His word, though we find a reluctation in our reason. For if we believe only that which is agreeable to our sense we give consent to the matter, and not to the author; which is no more than we would do towards a suspected and discredited witness; but that faith which was accounted to Abraham for righteousness was of such a point as whereat Sarah laughed, who therein was an image of natural reason.

(2) Howbeit (if we will truly consider of it) more worthy it is to believe than to know as we now know. For in knowledge man’s mind suffereth from sense: but in belief it suffereth from spirit, such one as it holdeth for more authorised than itself and so suffereth from the worthier agent. Otherwise it is of the state of man glorified; for then faith shall cease, and we shall know as we are known.

(3) Wherefore we conclude that sacred theology (which in our idiom we call divinity) is grounded only upon the word and oracle of God, and not upon the light of nature: for it is written, _Cæli enarrant gloriam Dei_; but it is not written, _Cæli enarrant voluntatem Dei_: but of that it is said, _Ad legem et testimonium_: _si non fecerint secundum verbum istud_, &c. This holdeth not only in those points of faith which concern the great mysteries of the Deity, of the creation, of the redemption, but likewise those which concern the law moral, truly interpreted: “Love your enemies: do good to them that hate you; be like to your heavenly Father, that suffereth His rain to fall upon the just and unjust.” To this it ought to be applauded, _Nec vox hominem sonat_: it is a voice beyond the light of nature. So we see the heathen poets, when they fall upon a libertine passion, do still expostulate with laws and moralities, as if they were opposite and malignant to nature: _Et quod natura remittit_, _invida jura negant_. So said Dendamis the Indian unto Alexander’s messengers, that he had heard somewhat of Pythagoras, and some other of the wise men of Græcia, and that he held them for excellent men: but that they had a fault, which was that they had in too great reverence and veneration a thing they called law and manners. So it must be confessed that a great part of the law moral is of that perfection whereunto the light of nature cannot aspire: how then is it that man is said to have, by the light and law of nature, some notions and conceits of virtue and vice, justice and wrong, good and evil? Thus, because the light of nature is used in two several senses: the one, that which springeth from reason, sense, induction, argument, according to the laws of heaven and earth; the other, that which is imprinted upon the spirit of man by an inward instinct, according to the law of conscience, which is a sparkle of the purity of his first estate: in which latter sense only he is

## participant of some light and discerning touching the perfection of the

moral law; but how? sufficient to check the vice but not to inform the duty. So then the doctrine of religion, as well moral as mystical, is not to be attained but by inspiration and revelation from God.

(4) The use notwithstanding of reason in spiritual things, and the latitude thereof, is very great and general: for it is not for nothing that the apostle calleth religion “our reasonable service of God;” insomuch as the very ceremonies and figures of the old law were full of reason and signification, much more than the ceremonies of idolatry and magic, that are full of non-significants and surd characters. But most specially the Christian faith, as in all things so in this, deserveth to be highly magnified; holding and preserving the golden mediocrity in this point between the law of the heathen and the law of Mahomet, which have embraced the two extremes. For the religion of the heathen had no constant belief or confession, but left all to the liberty of agent; and the religion of Mahomet on the other side interdicteth argument altogether: the one having the very face of error, and the other of imposture; whereas the Faith doth both admit and reject disputation with difference.

(5) The use of human reason in religion is of two sorts: the former, in the conception and apprehension of the mysteries of God to us revealed; the other, in the inferring and deriving of doctrine and direction thereupon. The former extendeth to the mysteries themselves; but how? by way of illustration, and not by way of argument. The latter consisteth indeed of probation and argument. In the former we see God vouchsafeth to descend to our capacity, in the expressing of His mysteries in sort as may be sensible unto us; and doth graft His revelations and holy doctrine upon the notions of our reason, and applieth His inspirations to open our understanding, as the form of the key to the ward of the lock. For the latter there is allowed us a use of reason and argument, secondary and respective, although not original and absolute. For after the articles and principles of religion are placed and exempted from examination of reason, it is then permitted unto us to make derivations and inferences from and according to the analogy of them, for our better direction. In nature this holdeth not; for both the principles are examinable by induction, though not by a medium or syllogism; and besides, those principles or first positions have no discordance with that reason which draweth down and deduceth the inferior positions. But yet it holdeth not in religion alone, but in many knowledges, both of greater and smaller nature, namely, wherein there are not only _posita_ but _placita_; for in such there can be no use of absolute reason. We see it familiarly in games of wit, as chess, or the like. The draughts and first laws of the game are positive, but how? merely _ad placitum_, and not examinable by reason; but then how to direct our play thereupon with best advantage to win the game is artificial and rational. So in human laws there be many grounds and maxims which are _placita juris_, positive upon authority, and not upon reason, and therefore not to be disputed: but what is most just, not absolutely but relatively, and according to those maxims, that affordeth a long field of disputation. Such therefore is that secondary reason, which hath place in divinity, which is grounded upon the _placets_ of God.

(6) Here therefore I note this deficiency, that there hath not been, to my understanding, sufficiently inquired and handled the true limits and use of reason in spiritual things, as a kind of divine dialectic: which for that it is not done, it seemeth to me a thing usual, by pretext of true conceiving that which is revealed, to search and mine into that which is not revealed; and by pretext of enucleating inferences and contradictories, to examine that which is positive. The one sort falling into the error of Nicodemus, demanding to have things made more sensible than it pleaseth God to reveal them, _Quomodo possit homo nasci cum sit senex_? The other sort into the error of the disciples, which were scandalised at a show of contradiction, _Quid est hoc quod dicit nobis_? _Modicum et non videbitis me_; _et iterum_, _modicum_, _et videbitis me_, &c.

(7) Upon this I have insisted the more, in regard of the great and blessed use thereof; for this point well laboured and defined of would in my judgment be an opiate to stay and bridle not only the vanity of curious speculations, wherewith the schools labour, but the fury of controversies, wherewith the Church laboureth. For it cannot but open men’s eyes to see that many controversies do merely pertain to that which is either not revealed or positive; and that many others do grow upon weak and obscure inferences or derivations: which latter sort, if men would revive the blessed style of that great doctor of the Gentiles, would be carried thus, _ego_, _non dominus_; and again, _secundum consilium meum_, in opinions and counsels, and not in positions and oppositions. But men are now over-ready to usurp the style, _non ego_, _sed dominus_; and not so only, but to bind it with the thunder and denunciation of curses and anathemas, to the terror of those which have not sufficiently learned out of Solomon that “The causeless curse shall not come.”

(8) Divinity hath two principal parts: the matter informed or revealed, and the nature of the information or revelation; and with the latter we will begin, because it hath most coherence with that which we have now last handled. The nature of the information consisteth of three branches: the limits of the information, the sufficiency of the information, and the acquiring or obtaining the information. Unto the limits of the information belong these considerations: how far forth

## particular persons continue to be inspired; how far forth the Church is

inspired; and how far forth reason may be used; the last point whereof I have noted as deficient. Unto the sufficiency of the information belong two considerations: what points of religion are fundamental, and what perfective, being matter of further building and perfection upon one and the same foundation; and again, how the gradations of light according to the dispensation of times are material to the sufficiency of belief.

(9) Here again I may rather give it in advice than note it as deficient, that the points fundamental, and the points of further perfection only, ought to be with piety and wisdom distinguished; a subject tending to much like end as that I noted before; for as that other were likely to abate the number of controversies, so this is likely to abate the heat of many of them. We see Moses when he saw the Israelite and the Egyptian fight, he did not say, “Why strive you?” but drew his sword and slew the Egyptian; but when he saw the two Israelites fight, he said, “You are brethren, why strive you?” If the point of doctrine be an Egyptian, it must be slain by the sword of the Spirit, and not reconciled; but if it be an Israelite, though in the wrong, then, “Why strive you?” We see of the fundamental points, our Saviour penneth the league thus, “He that is not with us is against us;” but of points not fundamental, thus, “He that is not against us is with us.” So we see the coat of our Saviour was entire without seam, and so is the doctrine of the Scriptures in itself; but the garment of the Church was of divers colours and yet not divided. We see the chaff may and ought to be severed from the corn in the ear, but the tares may not be pulled up from the corn in the field. So as it is a thing of great use well to define what, and of what latitude, those points are which do make men mere aliens and disincorporate from the Church of God.

(10) For the obtaining of the information, it resteth upon the true and sound interpretation of the Scriptures, which are the fountains of the water of life. The interpretations of the Scriptures are of two sorts: methodical, and solute or at large. For this divine water, which excelleth so much that of Jacob’s well, is drawn forth much in the same kind as natural water useth to be out of wells and fountains; either it is first forced up into a cistern, and from thence fetched and derived for use; or else it is drawn and received in buckets and vessels immediately where it springeth. The former sort whereof, though it seem to be the more ready, yet in my judgment is more subject to corrupt. This is that method which hath exhibited unto us the scholastical divinity; whereby divinity hath been reduced into an art, as into a cistern, and the streams of doctrine or positions fetched and derived from thence.

(11) In this men have sought three things, a summary brevity, a compacted strength, and a complete perfection; whereof the two first they fail to find, and the last they ought not to seek. For as to brevity, we see in all summary methods, while men purpose to abridge, they give cause to dilate. For the sum or abridgment by contraction becometh obscure; the obscurity requireth exposition, and the exposition is deduced into large commentaries, or into commonplaces and titles, which grow to be more vast than the original writings, whence the sum was at first extracted. So we see the volumes of the schoolmen are greater much than the first writings of the fathers, whence the master of the sentences made his sum or collection. So in like manner the volumes of the modern doctors of the civil law exceed those of the ancient jurisconsults, of which Tribonian compiled the digest. So as this course of sums and commentaries is that which doth infallibly make the body of sciences more immense in quantity, and more base in substance.

(12) And for strength, it is true that knowledges reduced into exact methods have a show of strength, in that each part seemeth to support and sustain the other; but this is more satisfactory than substantial, like unto buildings which stand by architecture and compaction, which are more subject to ruin than those that are built more strong in their several parts, though less compacted. But it is plain that the more you recede from your grounds, the weaker do you conclude; and as in nature, the more you remove yourself from particulars, the greater peril of error you do incur; so much more in divinity, the more you recede from the Scriptures by inferences and consequences, the more weak and dilute are your positions.

(13) And as for perfection or completeness in divinity, it is not to be sought, which makes this course of artificial divinity the more suspect. For he that will reduce a knowledge into an art will make it round and uniform; but in divinity many things must be left abrupt, and concluded with this: _O altitudo sapientiæ et scientiæ Dei_! _quam incomprehensibilia sunt juducua ejus_, _et non investigabiles viæ ejus_. So again the apostle saith, _Ex parte scimus_: and to have the form of a total, where there is but matter for a part, cannot be without supplies by supposition and presumption. And therefore I conclude that the true use of these sums and methods hath place in institutions or introductions preparatory unto knowledge; but in them, or by deducement from them, to handle the main body and substance of a knowledge is in all sciences prejudicial, and in divinity dangerous.

(14) As to the interpretation of the Scriptures solute and at large, there have been divers kinds introduced and devised; some of them rather curious and unsafe than sober and warranted. Notwithstanding, thus much must be confessed, that the Scriptures, being given by inspiration and not by human reason, do differ from all other books in the Author, which by consequence doth draw on some difference to be used by the expositor. For the Inditer of them did know four things which no man attains to know; which are—the mysteries of the kingdom of glory, the perfection of the laws of nature, the secrets of the heart of man, and the future succession of all ages. For as to the first it is said, “He that presseth into the light shall be oppressed of the glory.” And again, “No man shall see My face and live.” To the second, “When He prepared the heavens I was present, when by law and compass He enclosed the deep.” To the third, “Neither was it needful that any should bear witness to Him of man, for He knew well what was in man.” And to the last, “From the beginning are known to the Lord all His works.”

(15) From the former two of these have been drawn certain senses and expositions of Scriptures, which had need be contained within the bounds of sobriety—the one anagogical, and the other philosophical. But as to the former, man is not to prevent his time: _Videmus nunc per speculum in ænigmate_, _tunc autem facie ad faciem_; wherein nevertheless there seemeth to be a liberty granted, as far forth as the polishing of this glass, or some moderate explication of this enigma. But to press too far into it cannot but cause a dissolution and overthrow of the spirit of man. For in the body there are three degrees of that we receive into it—aliment, medicine, and poison; whereof aliment is that which the nature of man can perfectly alter and overcome; medicine is that which is

## partly converted by nature, and partly converteth nature; and poison is

that which worketh wholly upon nature, without that nature can in any part work upon it. So in the mind, whatsoever knowledge reason cannot at all work upon and convert is a mere intoxication, and endangereth a dissolution of the mind and understanding.

(16) But for the latter, it hath been extremely set on foot of late time by the school of Paracelsus, and some others, that have pretended to find the truth of all natural philosophy in the Scriptures; scandalising and traducing all other philosophy as heathenish and profane. But there is no such enmity between God’s Word and His works; neither do they give honour to the Scriptures, as they suppose, but much embase them. For to seek heaven and earth in the Word of God, whereof it is said, “Heaven and earth shall pass, but My word shall not pass,” is to seek temporary things amongst eternal: and as to seek divinity in philosophy is to seek the living amongst the dead, so to seek philosophy in divinity is to seek the dead amongst the living: neither are the pots or lavers, whose place was in the outward part of the temple, to be sought in the holiest place of all where the ark of the testimony was seated. And again, the scope or purpose of the Spirit of God is not to express matters of nature in the Scriptures, otherwise than in passage, and for application to man’s capacity and to matters moral or divine. And it is a true rule, _Auctoris aliud agentis parva auctoritas_. For it were a strange conclusion, if a man should use a similitude for ornament or illustration sake, borrowed from nature or history according to vulgar conceit, as of a basilisk, a unicorn, a centaur, a Briareus, a hydra, or the like, that therefore he must needs be thought to affirm the matter thereof positively to be true. To conclude therefore these two interpretations, the one by reduction or enigmatical, the other philosophical or physical, which have been received and pursued in imitation of the rabbins and cabalists, are to be confined with a _a noli akryn sapere_, _sed time_.

(17) But the two latter points, known to God and unknown to man, touching the secrets of the heart and the successions of time, doth make a just and sound difference between the manner of the exposition of the Scriptures and all other books. For it is an excellent observation which hath been made upon the answers of our Saviour Christ to many of the questions which were propounded to Him, how that they are impertinent to the state of the question demanded: the reason whereof is, because not being like man, which knows man’s thoughts by his words, but knowing man’s thoughts immediately, He never answered their words, but their thoughts. Much in the like manner it is with the Scriptures, which being written to the thoughts of men, and to the succession of all ages, with a foresight of all heresies, contradictions, differing estates of the Church, yea, and particularly of the elect, are not to be interpreted only according to the latitude of the proper sense of the place, and respectively towards that present occasion whereupon the words were uttered, or in precise congruity or contexture with the words before or after, or in contemplation of the principal scope of the place; but have in themselves, not only totally or collectively, but distributively in clauses and words, infinite springs and streams of doctrine to water the Church in every part. And therefore as the literal sense is, as it were, the main stream or river, so the moral sense chiefly, and sometimes the allegorical or typical, are they whereof the Church hath most use; not that I wish men to be bold in allegories, or indulgent or light in allusions: but that I do much condemn that interpretation of the Scripture which is only after the manner as men use to interpret a profane book.

(18) In this part touching the exposition of the Scriptures, I can report no deficiency; but by way of remembrance this I will add. In perusing books of divinity I find many books of controversies, and many of commonplaces and treatises, a mass of positive divinity, as it is made an art: a number of sermons and lectures, and many prolix commentaries upon the Scriptures, with harmonies and concordances. But that form of writing in divinity which in my judgment is of all others most rich and precious is positive divinity, collected upon particular texts of Scriptures in brief observations; not dilated into commonplaces, not chasing after controversies, not reduced into method of art; a thing abounding in sermons, which will vanish, but defective in books which will remain, and a thing wherein this age excelleth. For I am persuaded, and I may speak it with an _absit invidia verbo_, and nowise in derogation of antiquity, but as in a good emulation between the vine and the olive, that if the choice and best of those observations upon texts of Scriptures which have been made dispersedly in sermons within this your Majesty’s Island of Brittany by the space of these forty years and more (leaving out the largeness of exhortations and applications thereupon) had been set down in a continuance, it had been the best work in divinity which had been written since the Apostles’ times.

(19) The matter informed by divinity is of two kinds: matter of belief and truth of opinion, and matter of service and adoration; which is also judged and directed by the former—the one being as the internal soul of religion, and the other as the external body thereof. And, therefore, the heathen religion was not only a worship of idols, but the whole religion was an idol in itself; for it had no soul; that is, no certainty of belief or confession: as a man may well think, considering the chief doctors of their church were the poets; and the reason was because the heathen gods were no jealous gods, but were glad to be admitted into part, as they had reason. Neither did they respect the pureness of heart, so they might have external honour and rites.

(20) But out of these two do result and issue four main branches of divinity: faith, manners, liturgy, and government. Faith containeth the doctrine of the nature of God, of the attributes of God, and of the works of God. The nature of God consisteth of three persons in unity of Godhead. The attributes of God are either common to the Deity, or respective to the persons. The works of God summary are two, that of the creation and that of the redemption; and both these works, as in total they appertain to the unity of the Godhead, so in their parts they refer to the three persons: that of the creation, in the mass of the matter, to the Father; in the disposition of the form, to the Son; and in the continuance and conservation of the being, to the Holy Spirit. So that of the redemption, in the election and counsel, to the Father; in the whole act and consummation, to the Son; and in the application, to the Holy Spirit; for by the Holy Ghost was Christ conceived in flesh, and by the Holy Ghost are the elect regenerate in spirit. This work likewise we consider either effectually, in the elect; or privately, in the reprobate; or according to appearance, in the visible Church.

(21) For manners, the doctrine thereof is contained in the law, which discloseth sin. The law itself is divided, according to the edition thereof, into the law of nature, the law moral, and the law positive; and according to the style, into negative and affirmative, prohibitions and commandments. Sin, in the matter and subject thereof, is divided according to the commandments; in the form thereof it referreth to the three persons in Deity: sins of infirmity against the Father, whose more special attribute is power; sins of ignorance against the Son, whose attribute is wisdom; and sins of malice against the Holy Ghost, whose attribute is grace or love. In the motions of it, it either moveth to the right hand or to the left; either to blind devotion or to profane and libertine transgression; either in imposing restraint where God granteth liberty, or in taking liberty where God imposeth restraint. In the degrees and progress of it, it divideth itself into thought, word, or act. And in this