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1601

by Francis Bacon

OF TRUTH

What is truth? said jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an

answer. Certainly there be, that delight in giddiness, and count it

a bondage to fix a belief; affecting free-will in thinking, as well as

in acting. And though the sects of philosophers of that kind be

gone, yet there remain certain discoursing wits, which are of the same

veins, though there be not so much blood in them, as was in those of

the ancients. But it is not only the difficulty and labor, which men

take in finding out of truth, nor again, that when it is found, it

imposeth upon men's thoughts, that doth bring lies in favor; but a

natural though corrupt love, of the lie itself. One of the later

school of the Grecians, examineth the matter, and is at a stand, to

think what should be in it, that men should love lies; where neither

they make for pleasure, as with poets, nor for advantage, as with

the merchant; but for the lie's sake. But I cannot tell; this same

truth, is a naked, and open day-light, that doth not show the masks,

and mummeries, and triumphs, of the world, half so stately and

daintily as candle-lights. Truth may perhaps come to the price of a

pearl, that showeth best by day; but it will not rise to the price

of a diamond, or carbuncle, that showeth best in varied lights. A

mixture of a lie doth ever add pleasure. Doth any man doubt, that if

there were taken out of men's minds, vain opinions, flattering

hopes, false valuations, imaginations as one would, and the like,

but it would leave the minds, of a number of men, poor shrunken

things, full of melancholy and indisposition, and unpleasing to

themselves?

One of the fathers, in great severity, called poesy vinum

doemonum, because it filleth the imagination; and yet, it is but

with the shadow of a lie. But it is not the lie that passeth through

the mind, but the lie that sinketh in, and settleth in it, that doth

the hurt; such as we spake of before. But, howsoever these things

are thus in men's depraved judgments, and affections, yet truth, which

only doth judge itself, teacheth that the inquiry of truth, which is

the love-making, or wooing of it, the knowledge of truth, which is the

presence of it, and the belief of truth, which is the enjoying of

it, is the sovereign good of human nature. The first creature of

God, in the works of the days, was the light of the sense; the last,

was the light of reason; and his sabbath work ever since, is the

illumination of his Spirit. First he breathed light, upon the face

of the matter or chaos; then he breathed light, into the face of

man; and still he breatheth and inspireth light, into the face of

his chosen. The poet, that beautified the sect, that was otherwise

inferior to the rest, saith yet excellently well: It is a pleasure, to

stand upon the shore, and to see ships tossed upon the sea; a

pleasure, to stand in the window of a castle, and to see a battle, and

the adventures thereof below: but no pleasure is comparable to the

standing upon the vantage ground of truth (a hill not to be commanded,

and where the air is always clear and serene), and to see the

errors, and wanderings, and mists, and tempests, in the vale below; so

always that this prospect be with pity, and not with swelling, or

pride. Certainly, it is heaven upon earth, to have a man's mind move

in charity, rest in providence, and turn upon the poles of truth.

To pass from theological, and philosophical truth, to the truth of

civil business; it will be acknowledged, even by those that practise

it not, that clear, and round dealing, is the honor of man's nature;

and that mixture of falsehoods, is like alloy in coin of gold and

silver, which may make the metal work the better, but it embaseth

it. For these winding, and crooked courses, are the goings of the

serpent; which goeth basely upon the belly, and not upon the feet.

There is no vice, that doth so cover a man with shame, as to be

found false and perfidious. And therefore Montaigne saith prettily,

when he inquired the reason, why the word of the lie should be such

a disgrace, and such an odious charge? Saith he, If it be well

weighed, to say that a man lieth, is as much to say, as that he is

brave towards God, and a coward towards men. For a lie faces God,

and shrinks from man. Surely the wickedness of falsehood, and breach

of faith, cannot possibly be so highly expressed, as in that it

shall be the last peal, to call the judgments of God upon the

generations of men; it being foretold, that when Christ cometh, he

shall not find faith upon the earth.

OF DEATH

Men fear death, as children fear to go in the dark; and as that

natural fear in children, is increased with tales, so is the other.

Certainly, the contemplation of death, as the wages of sin, and

passage to another world, is holy and religious; but the fear of it,

as a tribute due unto nature, is weak. Yet in religious meditations,

there is sometimes mixture of vanity, and of superstition. You shall

read, in some of the friars' books of mortification, that a man should

think with himself, what the pain is, if he have but his finger's

end pressed, or tortured, and thereby imagine, what the pains of death

are, when the whole body is corrupted, and dissolved; when many

times death passeth, with less pain than the torture of a limb; for

the most vital parts, are not the quickest of sense. And by him that

spake only as a philosopher, and natural man, it was well said,

Pompa mortis magis terret, quam mors ipsa. Groans, and convulsions,

and a discolored face, and friends weeping, and blacks, and obsequies,

and the like, show death terrible. It is worthy the observing, that

there is no passion in the mind of man, so weak, but it mates, and

masters, the fear of death; and therefore, death is no such terrible

enemy, when a man hath so many attendants about him, that can win

the combat of him. Revenge triumphs over death; love slights it; honor

aspireth to it; grief flieth to it; fear preoccupateth it; nay, we

read, after Otho the emperor had slain himself, pity (which is the

tenderest of affections) provoked many to die, out of mere

compassion to their sovereign, and as the truest sort of followers.

Nay, Seneca adds niceness and satiety: Cogita quamdiu eadem feceris;

mori velle, non tantum fortis aut miser, sed etiam fastidiosus potest.

A man would die, though he were neither valiant, nor miserable, only

upon a weariness to do the same thing so oft, over and over. It is

no less worthy, to observe, how little alteration in good spirits, the

approaches of death make; for they appear to be the same men, till the

last instant. Augustus Caesar died in a compliment; Livia, conjugii

nostri memor, vive et vale. Tiberius in dissimulation; as Tacitus

saith of him, Jam Tiberium vires et corpus, non dissimulatio,

deserebant. Vespasian in a jest, sitting upon the stool; Ut puto

deus fio. Galba with a sentence; Feri, si ex re sit populi Romani;

holding forth his neck. Septimius Severus in despatch; Adeste si

quid mihi restat agendum. And the like. Certainly the Stoics

bestowed too much cost upon death, and by their great preparations,

made it appear more fearful. Better saith he qui finem vitae

extremum inter munera ponat naturae. It is as natural to die, as to be

born; and to a little infant, perhaps, the one is as painful, as the

other. He that dies in an earnest pursuit, is like one that is wounded

in hot blood; who, for the time, scarce feels the hurt; and

therefore a mind fixed, and bent upon somewhat that is good, doth

avert the dolors of death. But, above all, believe it, the sweetest

canticle is, Nunc dimittis; when a man hath obtained worthy ends,

and expectations. Death hath this also; that it openeth the gate to

good fame, and extinguisheth envy. -Extinctus amabitur idem.

OF UNITY IN RELIGION

Religion being the chief band of human society, is a happy thing,

when itself is well contained within the true band of unity. The

quarrels, and divisions about religion, were evils unknown to the

heathen. The reason was, because the religion of the heathen,

consisted rather in rites and ceremonies, than in any constant belief.

For you may imagine, what kind of faith theirs was, when the chief

doctors, and fathers of their church, were the poets. But the true God

hath this attribute, that he is a jealous God; and therefore, his

worship and religion, will endure no mixture, nor partner. We shall

therefore speak a few words, concerning the unity of the church;

what are the fruits thereof; what the bounds; and what the means.

The fruits of unity (next unto the well pleasing of God, which is

all in all) are two: the one, towards those that are without the

church, the other, towards those that are within. For the former; it

is certain, that heresies, and schisms, are of all others the greatest

scandals; yea, more than corruption of manners. For as in the

natural body, a wound, or solution of continuity, is worse than a

corrupt humor; so in the spiritual. So that nothing, doth so much keep

men out of the church and drive men out of the church, as breach of

unity. And therefore, whensoever it cometh to that pass, that one

saith, Ecce in deserto, another saith, Ecce in penetralibus; that

is, when some men seek Christ, in the conventicles of heretics, and

others, in an outward face of a church, that voice had need

continually to sound in men's ears, Nolite exire, -Go not out. The

doctor of the Gentiles (the propriety of whose vocation, drew him to

have a special care of those without) saith, if an heathen come in,

and hear you speak with several tongues, will he not say that you

are mad? And certainly it is little better, when atheists, and profane

persons, do hear of so many discordant, and contrary opinions in

religion; it doth avert them from the church, and maketh them, to

sit down in the chair of the scorners. It is but a light thing, to

be vouched in so serious a matter, but yet it expresseth well the

deformity. There is a master of scoffing, that in his catalogue of

books of a feigned library, sets down this title of a book, The

Morris-Dance of Heretics. For indeed, every sect of them, hath a

diverse posture, or cringe by themselves, which cannot but move

derision in worldlings, and depraved politics, who are apt to

contemn holy things.

As for the fruit towards those that are within; it is peace; which

containeth infinite blessings. It establisheth faith; it kindleth

charity; the outward peace of the church, distilleth into peace of

conscience; and it turneth the labors of writing, and reading of

controversies, into treaties of mortification and devotion.

Concerning the bounds of unity; the true placing of them,

importeth exceedingly. There appear to be two extremes. For to certain

zealants, all speech of pacification is odious. Is it peace, Jehu?

What hast thou to do with peace? turn thee behind me. Peace is not the

matter, but following, and party. Contrariwise, certain Laodiceans,

and lukewarm persons, think they may accommodate points of religion,

by middle way, and taking part of both, and witty reconcilements; as

if they would make an arbitrament between God and man. Both these

extremes are to be avoided; which will be done, if the league of

Christians, penned by our Savior himself, were in two cross clauses

thereof, soundly and plainly expounded: He that is not with us, is

against us; and again, He that is not against us, is with us; that is,

if the points fundamental and of substance in religion, were truly

discerned and distinguished, from points not merely of faith, but of

opinion, order, or good intention. This is a thing may seem to many

a matter trivial, and done already. But if it were done less

partially, it would be embraced more generally.

Of this I may give only this advice, according to my small model.

Men ought to take heed, of rending God's church, by two kinds of

controversies. The one is, when the matter of the point

controverted, is too small and light, not worth the heat and strife

about it, kindled only by contradiction. For, as it is noted, by one

of the fathers, Christ's coat indeed had no seam, but the church's

vesture was of divers colors; whereupon he saith, In veste varietas

sit, scissura non sit; they be two things, unity and uniformity. The

other is, when the matter of the point controverted, is great, but

it is driven to an over-great subtilty, and obscurity; so that it

becometh a thing rather ingenious, than substantial. A man that is

of judgment and understanding, shall sometimes hear ignorant men

differ, and know well within himself, that those which so differ, mean

one thing, and yet they themselves would never agree. And if it come

so to pass, in that distance of judgment, which is between man and

man, shall we not think that God above, that knows the heart, doth not

discern that frail men, in some of their contradictions, intend the

same thing; and accepteth of both? The nature of such controversies is

excellently expressed, by St. Paul, in the warning and precept, that

he giveth concerning the same, Devita profanas vocum novitates, et

oppositiones falsi nominis scientiae. Men create oppositions, which

are not; and put them into new terms, so fixed, as whereas the meaning

ought to govern the term, the term in effect governeth the meaning.

There be also two false peaces, or unities: the one, when the peace is

grounded, but upon an implicit ignorance; for all colors will agree in

the dark: the other, when it is pieced up, upon a direct admission

of contraries, in fundamental points. For truth and falsehood, in such

things, are like the iron and clay, in the toes of Nebuchadnezzar's

image; they may cleave, but they will not incorporate.

Concerning the means of procuring unity; men must beware, that in

the procuring, or muniting, of religious unity, they do not dissolve

and deface the laws of charity, and of human society. There be two

swords amongst Christians, the spiritual and temporal; and both have

their due office and place, in the maintenance of religion. But we may

not take up the third sword, which is Mahomet's sword, or like unto

it; that is, to propagate religion by wars, or by sanguinary

persecutions to force consciences; except it be in cases of overt

scandal, blasphemy, or intermixture of practice against the state;

much less to nourish seditions; to authorize conspiracies and

rebellions; to put the sword into the people's hands; and the like;

tending to the subversion of all government, which is the ordinance of

God. For this is but to dash the first table against the second; and

so to consider men as Christians, as we forget that they are men.

Lucretius the poet, when he beheld the act of Agamemnon, that could

endure the sacrificing of his own daughter, exclaimed: Tantum

Religio potuit suadere malorum.

What would he have said, if he had known of the massacre in

France, or the powder treason of England? He would have been seven

times more Epicure, and atheist, than he was. For as the temporal

sword is to be drawn with great circumspection in cases of religion;

so it is a thing monstrous, to put it into the hands of the common

people. Let that be left unto the Anabaptists, and other furies. It

was great blasphemy, when the devil said, I will ascend, and be like

the highest; but it is greater blasphemy, to personate God, and

bring him in saying, I will descend, and be like the prince of

darkness; and what is it better, to make the cause of religion to

descend, to the cruel and execrable actions of murthering princes,

butchery of people, and subversion of states and governments? Surely

this is to bring down the Holy Ghost, instead of the likeness of a

dove, in the shape of a vulture or raven; and set, out of the bark

of a Christian church, a flag of a bark of pirates, and assassins.

Therefore it is most necessary, that the church, by doctrine and

decree, princes by their sword, and all learnings, both Christian

and moral, as by their Mercury rod, do damn and send to hell for ever,

those facts and opinions tending to the support of the same; as hath

been already in good part done. Surely in counsels concerning

religion, that counsel of the apostle would be prefixed, Ira hominis

non implet justitiam Dei. And it was a notable observation of a wise

father, and no less ingenuously confessed; that those which held and

persuaded pressure of consciences, were commonly interested therein,

themselves, for their own ends.

OF REVENGE

Revenge is a kind of wild justice; which the more man's nature

runs to, the more ought law to weed it out. For as for the first

wrong, it doth but offend the law; but the revenge of that wrong,

putteth the law out of office. Certainly, in taking revenge, a man

is but even with his enemy; but in passing it over, he is superior;

for it is a prince's part to pardon. And Solomon, I am sure, saith, It

is the glory of a man, to pass by an offence. That which is past is

gone, and irrevocable; and wise men have enough to do, with things

present and to come; therefore they do but trifle with themselves,

that labor in past matters. There is no man doth a wrong, for the

wrong's sake; but thereby to purchase himself profit, or pleasure,

or honor, or the like. Therefore why should I be angry with a man, for

loving himself better than me? And if any man should do wrong,

merely out of ill-nature, why, yet it is but like the thorn or

briar, which prick and scratch, because they can do no other. The most

tolerable sort of revenge, is for those wrongs which there is no law

to remedy; but then let a man take heed, the revenge be such as

there is no law to punish; else a man's enemy is still before hand,

and it is two for one. Some, when they take revenge, are desirous, the

party should know, whence it cometh. This is the more generous. For

the delight seemeth to be, not so much in doing the hurt, as in making

the party repent. But base and crafty cowards, are like the arrow that

flieth in the dark. Cosmus, duke of Florence, had a desperate saying

against perfidious or neglecting friends, as if those wrongs were

unpardonable; You shall read (saith he) that we are commanded to

forgive our enemies; but you never read, that we are commanded to

forgive our friends. But yet the spirit of Job was in a better tune:

Shall we (saith he) take good at God's hands, and not be content to

take evil also? And so of friends in a proportion. This is certain,

that a man that studieth revenge, keeps his own wounds green, which

otherwise would heal, and do well. Public revenges are for the most

part fortunate; as that for the death of Caesar; for the death of

Pertinax; for the death of Henry the Third of France; and many more.

But in private revenges, it is not so. Nay rather, vindictive

persons live the life of witches; who, as they are mischievous, so end

they infortunate.

OF ADVERSITY

It was an high speech of Seneca (after the manner of the Stoics),

that the good things, which belong to prosperity, are to be wished;

but the good things, that belong to adversity, are to be admired. Bona

rerum secundarum optabilia; adversarum mirabilia. Certainly if

miracles be the command over nature, they appear most in adversity. It

is yet a higher speech of his, than the other (much too high for a

heathen), It is true greatness, to have in one the frailty of a man,

and the security of a God. Vere magnum habere fragilitatem hominis,

securitatem Dei. This would have done better in poesy, where

transcendences are more allowed. And the poets indeed have been busy

with it; for it is in effect the thing, which figured in that

strange fiction of the ancient poets, which seemeth not to be

without mystery; nay, and to have some approach to the state of a

Christian; that Hercules, when he went to unbind Prometheus (by whom

human nature is represented), sailed the length of the great ocean, in

an earthen pot or pitcher; lively describing Christian resolution,

that saileth in the frail bark of the flesh, through the waves of

the world. But to speak in a mean. The virtue of prosperity, is

temperance; the virtue of adversity, is fortitude; which in morals

is the more heroical virtue. Prosperity is the blessing of the Old

Testament; adversity is the blessing of the New; which carrieth the

greater benediction, and the clearer revelation of God's favor. Yet

even in the Old Testament, if you listen to David's harp, you shall

hear as many hearse-like airs as carols; and the pencil of the Holy

Ghost hath labored more in describing the afflictions of Job, than the

felicities of Solomon. Prosperity is not without many fears and

distastes; and adversity is not without comforts and hopes. We see

in needle-works and embroideries, it is more pleasing to have a lively

work, upon a sad and solemn ground, than to have a dark and melancholy

work, upon a lightsome ground: judge therefore of the pleasure of

the heart, by the pleasure of the eye. Certainly virtue is like

precious odors, most fragrant when they are incensed, or crushed:

for prosperity doth best discover vice, but adversity doth best

discover virtue.

OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION

Dissimulation is but a faint kind of policy, or wisdom; for it

asketh a strong wit, and a strong heart, to know when to tell truth,

and to do it. Therefore it is the weaker sort of politics, that are

the great dissemblers.

Tacitus saith, Livia sorted well with the arts of her husband, and

dissimulation of her son; attributing arts or policy to Augustus,

and dissimulation to Tiberius. And again, when Mucianus encourageth

Vespasian, to take arms against Vitellius, he saith, We rise not

against the piercing judgment of Augustus, nor the extreme caution

or closeness of Tiberius. These properties, of arts or policy, and

dissimulation or closeness, are indeed habits and faculties several,

and to be distinguished. For if a man have that penetration of

judgment, as he can discern what things are to be laid open, and

what to be secreted, and what to be showed at half lights, and to whom

and when (which indeed are arts of state, and arts of life, as Tacitus

well calleth them), to him, a habit of dissimulation is a hinderance

and a poorness. But if a man cannot obtain to that judgment, then it

is left to him generally, to be close, and a dissembler. For where a

man cannot choose, or vary in particulars, there it is good to take

the safest, and wariest way, in general; like the going softly, by one

that cannot well see. Certainly the ablest men that ever were, have

had all an openness, and frankness, of dealing; and a name of

certainty and veracity; but then they were like horses well managed;

for they could tell passing well, when to stop or turn; and at such

times, when they thought the case indeed required dissimulation, if

then they used it, it came to pass that the former opinion, spread

abroad, of their good faith and clearness of dealing, made them almost

invisible.

There be three degrees of this hiding and veiling of a man's self.

The first, closeness, reservation, and secrecy; when a man leaveth

himself without observation, or without hold to be taken, what he

is. The second, dissimulation, in the negative; when a man lets fall

signs and arguments, that he is not, that he is. And the third,

simulation, in the affirmative; when a man industriously and expressly

feigns and pretends to be, that he is not.

For the first of these, secrecy; it is indeed the virtue of a

confessor. And assuredly, the secret man heareth many confessions. For

who will open himself, to a blab or a babbler? But if a man be thought

secret, it inviteth discovery; as the more close air sucketh in the

more open; and as in confession, the revealing is not for worldly use,

but for the ease of a man's heart, so secret men come to the knowledge

of many things in that kind; while men rather discharge their minds,

than impart their minds. In few words, mysteries are due to secrecy.

Besides (to say truth) nakedness is uncomely, as well in mind as body;

and it addeth no small reverence, to men's manners and actions, if

they be not altogether open. As for talkers and futile persons, they

are commonly vain and credulous withal. For he that talketh what he

knoweth, will also talk what he knoweth not. Therefore set it down,

that an habit of secrecy, is both politic and moral. And in this part,

it is good that a man's face give his tongue leave to speak. For the

discovery of a man's self, by the tracts of his countenance, is a

great weakness and betraying; by how much it is many times more

marked, and believed, than a man's words.

For the second, which is dissimulation; it followeth many times upon

secrecy, by a necessity; so that he that will be secret, must be a

dissembler in some degree. For men are too cunning, to suffer a man to

keep an indifferent carriage between both, and to be secret, without

swaying the balance on either side. They will so beset a man with

questions, and draw him on, and pick it out of him, that, without an

absurd silence, he must show an inclination one way; or if he do

not, they will gather as much by his silence, as by his speech. As for

equivocations, or oraculous speeches, they cannot hold out long. So

that no man can be secret, except he give himself a little scope of

dissimulation; which is, as it were, but the skirts or train of

secrecy.

But for the third degree, which is simulation, and false profession;

that I hold more culpable, and less politic; except it be in great and

rare matters. And therefore a general custom of simulation (which is

this last degree) is a vice, rising either of a natural falseness or

fearfulness, or of a mind that hath some main faults, which because

a man must needs disguise, it maketh him practise simulation in

other things, lest his hand should be out of use.

The great advantages of simulation and dissimulation are three.

First, to lay asleep opposition, and to surprise. For where a man's

intentions are published, it is an alarum, to call up all that are

against them. The second is, to reserve to a man's self a fair

retreat. For if a man engage himself by a manifest declaration, he

must go through or take a fall. The third is, the better to discover

the mind of another. For to him that opens himself, men will hardly

show themselves adverse; but will fair let him go on, and turn their

freedom of speech, to freedom of thought. And therefore it is a good

shrewd proverb of the Spaniard, Tell a lie and find a troth. As if

there were no way of discovery, but by simulation. There be also three

disadvantages, to set it even. The first, that simulation and

dissimulation commonly carry with them a show of fearfulness, which in

any business, doth spoil the feathers, of round flying up to the mark.

The second, that it puzzleth and perplexeth the conceits of many, that

perhaps would otherwise co-operate with him; and makes a man walk

almost alone, to his own ends. The third and greatest is, that it

depriveth a man of one of the most principal instruments for action;

which is trust and belief. The best composition and temperature, is to

have openness in fame and opinion; secrecy in habit; dissimulation

in seasonable use; and a power to feign, if there be no remedy.

OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN

The joys of parents are secret; and so are their griefs and fears.

They cannot utter the one; nor they will not utter the other. Children

sweeten labors; but they make misfortunes more bitter. They increase

the cares of life; but they mitigate the remembrance of death. The

perpetuity by generation is common to beasts; but memory, merit, and

noble works, are proper to men. And surely a man shall see the noblest

works and foundations have proceeded from childless men, which have

sought to express the images of their minds, where those of their

bodies have failed. So the care of posterity is most in them, that

have no posterity. They that are the first raisers of their houses,

are most indulgent towards their children; beholding them as the

continuance, not only of their kind, but of their work; and so both

children and creatures.

The difference in affection, of parents towards their several

children, is many times unequal; and sometimes unworthy; especially in

the mothers; as Solomon saith, A wise son rejoiceth the father, but an

ungracious son shames the mother. A man shall see, where there is a

house full of children, one or two of the eldest respected, and the

youngest made wantons; but in the midst, some that are as it were

forgotten, who many times, nevertheless, prove the best. The

illiberality of parents, in allowance towards their children, is an

harmful error; makes them base; acquaints them with shifts; makes them

sort with mean company; and makes them surfeit more when they come

to plenty. And therefore the proof is best, when men keep their

authority towards the children, but not their purse. Men have a

foolish manner (both parents and schoolmasters and servants) in

creating and breeding an emulation between brothers, during childhood,

which many times sorteth to discord when they are men, and

disturbeth families. The Italians make little difference between

children, and nephews or near kinsfolks; but so they be of the lump,

they care not though they pass not through their own body. And, to say

truth, in nature it is much a like matter; insomuch that we see a

nephew sometimes resembleth an uncle, or a kinsman, more than his

own parent; as the blood happens. Let parents choose betimes, the

vocations and courses they mean their children should take; for then

they are most flexible; and let them not too much apply themselves

to the disposition of their children, as thinking they will take

best to that, which they have most mind to. It is true, that if the

affection or aptness of the children be extraordinary, then it is good

not to cross it; but generally the precept is good, optimum elige,

suave et facile illud faciet consuetudo. Younger brothers are commonly

fortunate, but seldom or never where the elder are disinherited.

OF MARRIAGE AND SINGLE LIFE

He that hath wife and children hath given hostages to fortune; for

they are impediments to great enterprises, either of virtue or

mischief. Certainly the best works, and of greatest merit for the

public, have proceeded from the unmarried or childless men; which both

in affection and means, have married and endowed the public. Yet it

were great reason that those that have children, should have

greatest care of future times; unto which they know they must transmit

their dearest pledges. Some there are, who though they lead a single

life, yet their thoughts do end with themselves, and account future

times impertinences. Nay, there are some other, that account wife

and children, but as bills of charges. Nay more, there are some

foolish rich covetous men that take a pride, in having no children,

because they may be thought so much the richer. For perhaps they

have heard some talk, Such an one is a great rich man, and another

except to it, Yea, but he hath a great charge of children; as if it

were an abatement to his riches. But the most ordinary cause of a

single life, is liberty, especially in certain self-pleasing and

humorous minds, which are so sensible of every restraint, as they will

go near to think their girdles and garters, to be bonds and

shackles. Unmarried men are best friends, best masters, best servants;

but not always best subjects; for they are light to run away; and

almost all fugitives, are of that condition. A single life doth well

with churchmen; for charity will hardly water the ground, where it

must first fill a pool. It is indifferent for judges and

magistrates; for if they be facile and corrupt, you shall have a

servant, five times worse than a wife. For soldiers, I find the

generals commonly in their hortatives, put men in mind of their

wives and children; and I think the despising of marriage amongst

the Turks, maketh the vulgar soldier more base. Certainly wife and

children are a kind of discipline of humanity; and single men,

though they may be many times more charitable, because their means are

less exhaust, yet, on the other side, they are more cruel and

hardhearted (good to make severe inquisitors), because their

tenderness is not so oft called upon. Grave natures, led by custom,

and therefore constant, are commonly loving husbands, as was said of

Ulysses, vetulam suam praetulit immortalitati. Chaste women are

often proud and froward, as presuming upon the merit of their

chastity. It is one of the best bonds, both of chastity and obedience,

in the wife, if she think her husband wise; which she will never do,

if she find him jealous. Wives are young men's mistresses;

companions for middle age; and old men's nurses. So as a man may

have a quarrel to marry, when he will. But yet he was reputed one of

the wise men, that made answer to the question, when a man should

marry,- A young man not yet, an elder man not at all. It is often seen

that bad husbands, have very good wives; whether it be, that it

raiseth the price of their husband's kindness, when it comes; or

that the wives take a pride in their patience. But this never fails,

if the bad husbands were of their own choosing, against their friends'

consent; for then they will be sure to make good their own folly.

OF ENVY

There be none of the affections, which have been noted to

fascinate or bewitch, but love and envy. They both have vehement

wishes; they frame themselves readily into imaginations and

suggestions; and they come easily into the eye, especially upon the

present of the objects; which are the points that conduce to

fascination, if any such thing there be. see likewise, the Scripture

calleth envy an evil eye; and the astrologers, call the evil

influences of the stars, evil aspects; so that still there seemeth

to be acknowledged, in the act of envy, an ejaculation or

irradiation of the eye. Nay, some have been so curious, as to note,

that the times when the stroke or percussion of an envious eye doth

most hurt, are when the party envied is beheld in glory or triumph;

for that sets an edge upon envy: and besides, at such times the

spirits of the person envied, do come forth most into the outward

parts, and so meet the blow.

But leaving these curiosities (though not unworthy to be thought on,

in fit place), we will handle, what persons are apt to envy others;

what persons are most subject to be envied themselves; and what is the

difference between public and private envy.

A man that hath no virtue in himself, ever envieth virtue in others.

For men's minds, will either feed upon their own good, or upon others'

evil; and who wanteth the one, will prey upon the other; and whoso

is out of hope, to attain to another's virtue, will seek to come at

even hand, by depressing another's fortune.

A man that is busy, and inquisitive, is commonly envious. For to

know much of other men's matters, cannot be because all that ado may

concern his own estate; therefore it must needs be, that he taketh a

kind of play-pleasure, in looking upon the fortunes of others. Neither

can he, that mindeth but his own business, find much matter for

envy. For envy is a gadding passion, and walketh the streets, and doth

not keep home: Non est curiosus, quin idem sit malevolus.

Men of noble birth, are noted to be envious towards new men, when

they rise. For the distance is altered, and it is like a deceit of the

eye, that when others come on, they think themselves, go back.

Deformed persons, and eunuchs, and old men, and bastards, are

envious. For he that cannot possibly mend his own case, will do what

he can, to impair another's; except these defects light upon a very

brave, and heroical nature, which thinketh to make his natural wants

part of his honor; in that it should be said, that an eunuch, or a

lame man, did such great matters; affecting the honor of a miracle; as

it was in Narses the eunuch, and Agesilaus and Tamberlanes, that

were lame men.

The same is the case of men, that rise after calamities and

misfortunes. For they are as men fallen out with the times; and

think other men's harms, a redemption of their own sufferings.

They that desire to excel in too many matters, out of levity and

vain glory, are ever envious. For they cannot want work; it being

impossible, but many, in some one of those things, should surpass

them. Which was the character of Adrian the Emperor; that mortally

envied poets, and painters, and artificers, in works wherein he had

a vein to excel.

Lastly, near kinsfolks, and fellows in office, and those that have

been bred together, are more apt to envy their equals, when they are

raised. For it doth upbraid unto them their own fortunes, and pointeth

at them, and cometh oftener into their remembrance, and incurreth

likewise more into the note of others; and envy ever redoubleth from

speech and fame. Cain's envy was the more vile and malignant,

towards his brother Abel, because when his sacrifice was better

accepted, there was no body to look on. Thus much for those, that

are apt to envy.

Concerning those that are more or less subject to envy: First,

persons of eminent virtue, when they are advanced, are less envied.

For their fortune seemeth, but due unto them; and no man envieth the

payment of a debt, but rewards and liberality rather. Again, envy is

ever joined with the comparing of a man's self; and where there is

no comparison, no envy; and therefore kings are not envied, but by

kings. Nevertheless it is to be noted, that unworthy persons are

most envied, at their first coming in, and afterwards overcome it

better; whereas contrariwise, persons of worth and merit are most

envied, when their fortune continueth long. For by that time, though

their virtue be the same, yet it hath not the same lustre; for fresh

men grow up that darken it.

Persons of noble blood, are less envied in their rising. For it

seemeth but left done to their birth. Besides, there seemeth not much

added to their fortune; and envy is as the sunbeams, that beat

hotter upon a bank, or steep rising ground, than upon a flat. And

for the same reason, those that are advanced by degrees, are less

envied than those that are advanced suddenly and per saltum.

Those that have joined with their honor great travels, cares, or

perils, are less subject to envy. For men think that they earn their

honors hardly, and pity them sometimes; and pity ever healeth envy.

Wherefore you shall observe, that the more deep and sober sort of

politic persons, in their greatness, are ever bemoaning themselves,

what a life they lead; chanting a quanta patimur! Not that they feel

it so, but only to abate the edge of envy. But this is to be

understood, of business that is laid upon men, and not such, as they

call unto themselves. For nothing increaseth envy more, than an

unnecessary and ambitious engrossing of business. And nothing doth

extinguish envy than for a great person to preserve all other inferior

officers, in their full rights and pre-eminences of their places.

For by that means, there be so many screens between him and envy.

Above all, those are most subject to envy, which carry the greatness

of their fortunes, in an insolent and proud manner; being never

well, but while they are showing how great they are, either by outward

pomp, or by triumphing over all opposition or competition; whereas

wise men will rather do sacrifice to envy, in suffering themselves

sometimes of purpose to be crossed, and overborne in things that do

not much concern them. Notwithstanding, so much is true, that the

carriage of greatness, in a plain and open manner (so it be without

arrogancy and vain glory) doth draw less envy, than if it be in a more

crafty and cunning fashion. For in that course, a man doth but disavow

fortune; and seemeth to be conscious of his own want in worth; and

doth but teach others, to envy him.

Lastly, to conclude this part; as we said in the beginning, that the

act of envy had somewhat in it of witchcraft, so there is no other

cure of envy, but the cure of witchcraft; and that is to remove the

lot (as they call it) and to lay it upon another. For which purpose,

the wiser sort of great persons, bring in ever upon the stage somebody

upon whom to derive the envy, that would come upon themselves;

sometimes upon ministers and servants; sometimes upon colleagues and

associates; and the like; and for that turn there are never wanting,

some persons of violent and undertaking natures, who, so they may have

power and business, will take it at any cost.

Now, to speak of public envy. There is yet some good in public envy,

whereas in private, there is none. For public envy, is as an

ostracism, that eclipseth men, when they grow too great. And therefore

it is a bridle also to great ones, to keep them within bounds.

This envy, being in the Latin word invidia, goeth in the modern

language, by the name of discontentment; of which we shall speak, in

handling sedition. It is a disease, in a state, like to infection. For

as infection spreadeth upon that which is sound, and tainteth it; so

when envy is gotten once into a state, it traduceth even the best

actions thereof, and turneth them into an ill odor. And therefore

there is little won, by intermingling of plausible actions. For that

doth argue but a weakness, and fear of envy, which hurteth so much the

more, as it is likewise usual in infections; which if you fear them,

you call them upon you.

This public envy, seemeth to beat chiefly upon principal officers or

ministers, rather than upon kings, and estates themselves. But this is

a sure rule, that if the envy upon the minister be great, when the

cause of it in him is small; or if the envy be general, in a manner

upon all the ministers of an estate; then the envy (though hidden)

is truly upon the state itself. And so much of public envy or

discontentment, and the difference thereof from private envy, which

was handled in the first place.

We will add this in general, touching the affection of envy; that of

all other affections, it is the most importune and continual. For of

other affections, there is occasion given, but now and then; and

therefore it was well said, Invidia festos dies non agit: for it is

ever working upon some or other. And it is also noted, that love and

envy do make a man pine, which other affections do not, because they

are not so continual. It is also the vilest affection, and the most

depraved; for which cause it is the proper attribute of the devil, who

is called, the envious man, that soweth tares amongst the wheat by

night; as it always cometh to pass, that envy worketh subtilly, and in

the dark, and to the prejudice of good things, such as is the wheat.

OF LOVE

The stage is more beholding to love, that the life of man. For as to

the stage, love is ever matter of comedies, and now and then of

tragedies; but in life it doth much mischief; sometimes like a

siren, sometimes like a fury. You may observe, that amongst all the

great and worthy persons (whereof the memory remaineth, either ancient

or recent) there is not one, that hath been transported to the mad

degree of love: which shows that great spirits, and great business, do

keep out this weak passion. You must except, nevertheless, Marcus

Antonius, the half partner of the empire of Rome, and Appius Claudius,

the decemvir and lawgiver; whereof the former was indeed a

voluptuous man, and inordinate; but the latter was an austere and wise

man: and therefore it seems (though rarely) that love can find

entrance, not only into an open heart, but also into a heart well

fortified, if watch be not well kept. It is a poor saying of Epicurus,

Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus; as if man, made for the

contemplation of heaven, and all noble objects, should do nothing

but kneel before a little idol and make himself a subject, though

not of the mouth (as beasts are), yet of the eye; which was given

him for higher purposes. It is a strange thing, to note the excess

of this passion, and how it braves the nature, and value of things, by

this; that the speaking in a perpetual hyperbole, is comely in nothing

but in love. Neither is it merely in the phrase; for whereas it hath

been well said, that the arch-flatterer, with whom all the petty

flatterers have intelligence, is a man's self; certainly the lover

is more. For there was never proud man thought so absurdly well of

himself, as the lover doth of the person loved; and therefore it was

well said, That it is impossible to love, and to be wise. Neither doth

this weakness appear to others only, and not to the party loved; but

to the loved most of all, except the love be reciproque. For it is a

true rule, that love is ever rewarded, either with the reciproque,

or with an inward and secret contempt. By how much the more, men ought

to beware of this passion, which loseth not only other things, but

itself! As for the other losses, the poet's relation doth well

figure them: that he that preferred Helena, quitted the gifts of

Juno and Pallas. For whosoever esteemeth too much of amorous

affection, quitteth both riches and wisdom. This passion hath his

floods, in very times of weakness; which are great prosperity, and

great adversity; though this latter hath been less observed: both

which times kindle love, and make it more fervent, and therefore

show it to be the child of folly. They do best, who if they cannot but

admit love, yet make it keep quarters; and sever it wholly from

their serious affairs, and actions, of life; for if it check once with

business, it troubleth men's fortunes, and maketh men, that they can

no ways be true to their own ends. I know not how, but martial men are

given to love: I think, it is but as they are given to wine; for

perils commonly ask to be paid in pleasures. There is in man's nature,

a secret inclination and motion, towards love of others, which if it

be not spent upon some one or a few, doth naturally spread itself

towards many, and maketh men become humane and charitable; as it is

seen sometime in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind; friendly love

perfecteth it; but wanton love corrupteth, and embaseth it.

OF GREAT PLACE

Men in great place are thrice servants: servants of the sovereign or

state; servants of fame; and servants of business. So as they have

no freedom; neither in their persons, nor in their actions, nor in

their times. It is a strange desire, to seek power and to lose

liberty: or to seek power over others, and to lose power over a

man's self. The rising unto place is laborious; and by pains, men come

to greater pains; and it is sometimes base; and by indignities, men

come to dignities. The standing is slippery, and the regress is either

a downfall, or at least an eclipse, which is a melancholy thing. Cum

non sis qui fueris, non esse cur velis vivere. Nay, retire men

cannot when they would, neither will they, when it were reason; but

are impatient of privateness, even in age and sickness, which

require the shadow; like old townsmen, that will be still sitting at

their street door, though thereby they offer age to scorn. Certainly

great persons had need to borrow other men's opinions, to think

themselves happy; for if they judge by their own feeling, they

cannot find it; but if they think with themselves, what other men

think of them, and that other men would fain be, as they are, then

they are happy, as it were, by report; when perhaps they find the

contrary within. For they are the first, that find their own griefs,

though they be the last, that find their own faults. Certainly men

in great fortunes are strangers to themselves, and while they are in

the puzzle of business, they have no time to tend their health, either

of body or mind. Illi mors gravis incubat, qui notus nimis omnibus,

ignotus moritur sibi. In place, there is license to do good, and evil;

whereof the latter is a curse: for in evil the best condition is not

to will; the second, not to can. But power to do good, is the true and

lawful end of aspiring. For good thoughts (though God accept them)

yet, towards men, are little better than good dreams, except they be

put in act; and that cannot be, without power and place, as the

vantage, and commanding ground. Merit and good works, is the end of

man's motion; and conscience of the same is the accomplishment of

man's rest. For if a man can be partaker of God's theatre, he shall

likewise be partaker of God's rest. Et conversus Deus, ut aspiceret

opera quae fecerunt manus suae, vidit quod omnia essent bona nimis;

and then the sabbath. In the discharge of thy place, set before thee

the best examples; for imitation is a globe of precepts. And after a

time, set before thee thine own example; and examine thyself strictly,

whether thou didst not best at first. Neglect not also the examples,

of those that have carried themselves ill, in the same place; not to

set off thyself, by taxing their memory, but to direct thyself, what

to avoid. Reform therefore, without bravery, or scandal of former

times and persons; but yet set it down to thyself, as well to create

good precedents, as to follow them. Reduce things to the first

institution, and observe wherein, and how, they have degenerate; but

yet ask counsel of both times; of the ancient time, what is best;

and of the latter time, what is fittest. Seek to make thy course

regular, that men may know beforehand, what they may expect; but be

not too positive and peremptory; and express thyself well, when thou

digressest from thy rule. Preserve the left of thy place; but stir

not questions of jurisdiction; and rather assume thy left, in silence

and de facto, than voice it with claims, and challenges. Preserve

likewise the rights of inferior places; and think it more honor, to

direct in chief, than to be busy in all. Embrace and invite helps, and

advices, touching the execution of thy place; and do not drive away

such, as bring thee information, as meddlers; but accept of them in

good part. The vices of authority are chiefly four: delays,

corruption, roughness, and facility. For delays: give easy access;

keep times appointed; go through with that which is in hand, and

interlace not business, but of necessity. For corruption: do not

only bind thine own hands, or, thy servants' hands, from taking, but

bind the hands of suitors also, from offering. For integrity used doth

the one; but integrity professed, and with a manifest detestation of

bribery, doth the other. And avoid not only the fault, but the

suspicion. Whosoever is found variable, and changeth manifestly

without manifest cause, giveth suspicion of corruption. Therefore

always, when thou changest thine opinion or course, profess it

plainly, and declare it, together with the reasons that move thee to

change; and do not think to steal it. A servant or a favorite, if he

be inward, and no other apparent cause of esteem, is commonly thought,

but a by-way to close corruption. For roughness: it is a needless

cause of discontent: severity breedeth fear, but roughness breedeth

hate. Even reproofs from authority, ought to be grave, and not

taunting. As for facility: it is worse than bribery. For bribes come

but now and then; but if importunity, or idle respects, lead a man, he

shall never be without. As Solomon saith, To respect persons is not

good; for such a man will transgress for a piece of bread. It is

most true, that was anciently spoken, A place showeth the man. And

it showeth some to the better, and some to the worse. Omnium

consensu capax imperii, nisi imperasset, saith Tacitus of Galba; but

of Vespasian he saith, Solus imperantium, Vespasianus mutatus in

melius; though the one was meant of sufficiency, the other of manners,

and affection. It is an assured sign of a worthy and generous

spirit, whom honor amends. For honor is, or should be, the place of

virtue and as in nature, things move violently to their place, and

calmly in their place, so virtue in ambition is violent, in

authority settled and calm. All rising to great place is by a

winding star; and if there be factions, it is good to side a man's

self, whilst he is in the rising, and to balance himself when he is

placed. Use the memory of thy predecessor, fairly and tenderly; for if

thou dost not, it is a debt will sure be paid when thou art gone. If

thou have colleagues, respect them, and rather call them, when they

look not for it, than exclude them, when they have reason to look to

be called. Be not too sensible, or too remembering, of thy place in

conversation, and private answers to suitors; but let it rather be

said, When he sits in place, he is another man.

OF BOLDNESS

It is a trivial grammar-school text, but yet worthy a wise man's

consideration. Question was asked of Demosthenes, what was the chief

part of an orator? he answered, action; what next? action; what next

again? action. He said it, that knew it best, and had, by nature,

himself no advantage in that he commended. A strange thing, that

that of an orator, which is but superficial and rather the virtue of a

player, should be placed so high, above those other noble parts, of

invention, elocution, and the rest; nay, almost alone, as if it were

all in all. But the reason is plain. There is in human nature

generally, more of the fool than of the wise; and therefore those

faculties, by which the foolish part of men's minds is taken, are most

potent. Wonderful like is the case of boldness in civil business: what

first? boldness; what second and third? boldness. And yet boldness

is a child of ignorance and baseness, far inferior to other parts. But

nevertheless it doth fascinate, and bind hand and foot, those that are

either shallow in judgment, or weak in courage, which are the greatest

part; yea and prevaileth with wise men at weak times. Therefore we see

it hath done wonders, in popular states; but with senates, and princes

less; and more ever upon the first entrance of bold persons into

action, than soon after; for boldness is an ill keeper of promise.

Surely, as there are mountebanks for the natural body, so are there

mountebanks for the politic body; men that undertake great cures,

and perhaps have been lucky, in two or three experiments, but want the

grounds of science, and therefore cannot hold out. Nay, you shall

see a bold fellow many times do Mahomet's miracle. Mahomet made the

people believe that he would call an hill to him, and from the top

of it offer up his prayers, for the observers of his law. The people

assembled; Mahomet called the hill to come to him, again and again;

and when the hill stood still, he was never a whit abashed, but

said, If the hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet, will go to the

hill. So these men, when they have promised great matters, and

failed most shamefully, yet (if they have the perfection of

boldness) they will but slight it over, and make a turn, and no more

ado. Certainly to men of great judgment, bold persons are a sport to

behold; nay, and to the vulgar also, boldness has somewhat of the

ridiculous. For if absurdity be the subject of laughter, doubt you not

but great boldness is seldom without some absurdity. Especially it

is a sport to see, when a bold fellow is out of countenance; for

that puts his face into a most shrunken, and wooden posture; as

needs it must; for in bashfulness, the spirits do a little go and

come; but with bold men, upon like occasion, they stand at a stay;

like a stale at chess, where it is no mate, but yet the game cannot

stir. But this last were fitter for a satire than for a serious

observation. This is well to be weighed; that boldness is ever

blind; for it seeth not danger, and inconveniences. Therefore it is

ill in counsel, good in execution; so that the left use of bold

persons is, that they never command in chief, but be seconds, and

under the direction of others. For in counsel, it is good to see

dangers; and in execution, not to see them, except they be very great.

OF GOODNESS & GOODNESS OF NATURE

I take goodness in this sense, the affecting of the weal of men,

which is that the Grecians call philanthropia; and the word

humanity, (as it is used) is a little too light to express it.

Goodness I call the habit, and goodness of nature, the inclination.

This of all virtues, and dignities of the mind, is the greatest; being

the character of the Deity: and without it, man is a busy,

mischievous, wretched thing; no better than a kind of vermin. Goodness

answers to the theological virtue, charity, and admits no excess,

but error. The desire of power in excess, caused the angels to fall;

the desire of knowledge in excess, caused man to fall: but in

charity there is no excess; neither can angel, nor man, come in danger

by it. The inclination to goodness, is imprinted deeply in the

nature of man; insomuch, that if it issue not towards men, it will

take unto other living creatures; as it is seen in the Turks, a

cruel people, who nevertheless are kind to beasts, and give alms, to

dogs and birds; insomuch, as Busbechius reporteth, a Christian boy, in

Constantinople, had like to have been stoned, for gagging in a

waggishness a long-billed fowl. Errors indeed in this virtue of

goodness, or charity, may be committed. The Italians have an

ungracious proverb, Tanto buon che val niente: so good, that he is

good for nothing. And one of the doctors of Italy, Nicholas Machiavel,

had the confidence to put in writing, almost in plain terms, That

the Christian faith, had given up good men, in prey to those that

are tyrannical and unjust. Which he spake, because indeed there was

never law, or sect, or opinion, did so much magnify goodness, as the

Christian religion doth. Therefore, to avoid the scandal and the

danger both, it is good, to take knowledge of the errors of an habit

so excellent. Seek the good of other men, but be not in bondage to

their faces or fancies; for that is but facility, or softness; which

taketh an honest mind prisoner. Neither give thou AEsop's cock a

gem, who would be better pleased, and happier, if he had had

barley-corn. The example of God, teacheth the lesson truly: He sendeth

his rain, and maketh his sun to shine, upon the just and unjust; but

he doth not rain wealth, nor shine honor and virtues, upon men

equally. Common benefits, are to be communicate with all; but peculiar

benefits, with choice. And beware how in making the portraiture,

thou breakest the pattern. For divinity, maketh the love of

ourselves the pattern; the love of our neighbors, but the portraiture.

Sell all thou hast, and give it to the poor, and follow me: but,

sell not all thou hast, except thou come and follow me; that is,

except thou have a vocation, wherein thou mayest do as much good, with

little means as with great; for otherwise, in feeding the streams,

thou driest the fountain. Neither is there only a habit of goodness,

directed by left reason; but there is in some men, even in nature,

a disposition towards it; as on the other side, there is a natural

malignity. For there be that in their nature do not affect the good of

others. The lighter sort of malignity, turneth but to a crossness,

or frowardness, or aptness to oppose, or difficulties, or the like;

but the deeper sort, to envy and mere mischief. Such men, in other

men's calamities, are, as it were, in season, and are ever on the

loading part: not so good as the dogs, that licked Lazarus' sores; but

like Ries, that are still buzzing upon any thing that is raw;

misanthropi, that make it their practice, to bring men to the bough,

and yet never a tree for the purpose in their gardens, as Timon had.

Such dispositions, are the very errors of human nature; and yet they

are the fittest timber, to make great pontics of; like to knee timber,

that is good for ships, that are ordained to be tossed; but not for

building houses, that shall stand firm. The parts and signs of

goodness, are many. If a man be gracious and courteous to strangers,

it shows he is a citizen of the world, and that his heart is no

island, cut off from other lands, but a continent, that joins to them.

If he be compassionate towards the afflictions of others, it shows

that his heart is like the noble tree, that is wounded itself, when it

gives the balm. If he easily pardons, and remits offences, it shows

that his mind is planted above injuries; so that he cannot be shot. If

he be thankful for small benefits, it shows that he weighs men's

minds, and not their trash. But above all if he have St. Paul's

perfection, that he would wish to be anathema from Christ, for the

salvation of his brethren, it shows much of a divine nature, and a

kind of conformity with Christ himself.

OF NOBILITY

We will speak of nobility, first as a portion of an estate, then

as a condition of particular persons. A monarchy, where there is no

nobility at all, is ever a pure and absolute tyranny; as that of the

Turks. For nobility attempers sovereignty, and draws the eyes of the

people, somewhat aside from the line royal. But for democracies,

they need it not; and they are commonly more quiet, and less subject

to sedition, than where there are stirps of nobles. For men's eyes are

upon the business, and not upon the persons; or if upon the persons,

it is for the business' sake, as fittest, and not for flags and

pedigree. We see the Switzers last well, notwithstanding their

diversity of religion, and of cantons. For utility is their bond,

and not respects. The united provinces of the Low Countries, in

their government, excel; for where there is an equality, the

consultations are more indifferent, and the payments and tributes,

more cheerful. A great and potent nobility, addeth majesty to a

monarch, but diminisheth power; and putteth life and spirit into the

people, but presseth their fortune. It is well, when nobles are not

too great for sovereignty nor for justice; and yet maintained in

that height, as the insolency of inferiors may be broken upon them,

before it come on too fast upon the majesty of kings. A numerous

nobility causeth poverty, and inconvenience in a state; for it is a

surcharge of expense; and besides, it being of necessity, that many of

the nobility fall, in time, to be weak in fortune, it maketh a kind of

disproportion, between honor and means.

As for nobility in particular persons; it is a reverend thing, to

see an ancient castle or building, not in decay; or to see a fair

timber tree, sound and perfect. How much more, to behold an ancient

noble family, which has stood against the waves and weathers of

time! For new nobility is but the act of power, but ancient nobility

is the act of time. Those that are first raised to nobility, are

commonly more virtuous, but less innocent, than their descendants; for

there is rarely any rising, but by a commixture of good and evil arts.

But it is reason, the memory of their virtues remain to their

posterity, and their faults die with themselves. Nobility of birth

commonly abateth industry; and he that is not industrious, envieth him

that is. Besides, noble persons cannot go much higher; and he that

standeth at a stay, when others rise, can hardly avoid motions of

envy. On the other side, nobility extinguisheth the passive envy

from others, towards them; because they are in possession of honor.

Certainly, kings that have able men of their nobility, shall find ease

in employing them, and a better slide into their business; for

people naturally bend to them, as born in some sort to command.

OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES

Shepherds of people, had need know the calendars of tempests in

state; which are commonly greatest, when things grow to equality; as

natural tempests are greatest about the Equinoctia. And as there are

certain hollow blasts of wind, and secret swellings of seas before a

tempest, so are there in states:

--Ille etiam caecos instare tumultus

Saepe monet, fraudesque et operta tunescere bella.

Libels and licentious discourses against the state, when they are

frequent and open; and in like sort, false news often running up and

down, to the disadvantage of the state, and hastily embraced; are

amongst the signs of troubles. Virgil, giving the pedigree of Fame,

saith, she was sister to the Giants:

Illam Terra parens, ira irritata deorum,

Extremam (ut perhibent) Coeo Enceladoque sororem

Progenuit.-

As if fames were the relics of seditions past; but they are no less,

indeed, the preludes of seditions to come. Howsoever he noteth it

left, that seditious tumults, and seditious fames, differ no more but

as brother and sister, masculine and feminine; especially if it come

to that, that the best actions of a state, and the most plausible, and

which ought to give greatest contentment, are taken in ill sense,

and traduced: for that shows the envy great, as Tacitus saith;

conflata magna invidia, seu bene seu male gesta premunt. Neither

doth it follow, that because these fames are a sign of troubles,

that the suppressing of them with too much severity, should be a

remedy of troubles. For the despising of them, many times checks

them best; and the going about to stop them, doth but make a wonder

long-lived. Also that kind of obedience, which Tacitus speaketh of, is

to be held suspected: Erant in officio, sed tamen qui mallent

mandata imperantium interpretari quam exequi disputing, excusing,

cavilling upon mandates and directions, is a kind of shaking off the

yoke, and assay of disobedience; especially if in those disputings,

they which are for the direction, speak fearfully and tenderly, and

those that are against it, audaciously.

Also, as Machiavel noteth well, when princes, that ought to be

common parents, make themselves as a party, and lean to a side, it

is as a boat, that is overthrown by uneven weight on the one side;

as was well seen, in the time of Henry the Third of France; for first,

himself entered league for the extirpation of the Protestants; and

presently after, the same league was turned upon himself. For when the

authority of princes, is made but an accessory to a cause, and that

there be other bands, that tie faster than the band of sovereignty,

kings begin to be put almost out of possession.

Also, when discords, and quarrels, and factions are carried openly

and audaciously, it is a sign the reverence of government is lost. For

the motions of the greatest persons in a government, ought to be as

the motions of the planets under primum mobile; according to the old

opinion: which is, that every of them, is carried swiftly by the

highest motion, and softly in their own motion. And therefore, when

great ones in their own particular motion, move violently, and, as

Tacitus expresseth it well, liberius quam ut imperantium

meminissent; it is a sign the orbs are out of frame. For reverence

is that? wherewith princes are girt from God; who threateneth the

dissolving thereof; Solvam cingula regum.

So when any of the four pillars of government, are mainly shaken, or

weakened (which are religion, justice, counsel, and treasure), men had

need to pray for fair weather. But let us pass from this part of

predictions (concerning which, nevertheless, more light may be taken

from that which followeth); and let us speak first, of the materials

of seditions; then of the motives of them; and thirdly of the

remedies.

Concerning the materials of seditions. It is a thing well to be

considered; for the surest way to prevent seditions (if the times do

bear it) is to take away the matter of them. For if there be fuel

prepared, it is hard to tell, whence the spark shall come, that

shall set it on fire. The matter of seditions is of two kinds: much

poverty, and much discontentment. It is certain, so many overthrown

estates, so many votes for troubles. Lucan noteth well the state of

Rome before the Civil War,

Hinc usura vorax, rapidumque in tempore foenus,

Hinc concussa fides, et multis utile bellum.

This same multis utile bellum, is an assured and infallible sign, of a

state disposed to seditions and troubles. And if this poverty and

broken estate in the better sort, be joined with a want and

necessity in the mean people, the danger is imminent and great. For

the rebellions of the belly are the worst. As for discontentments,

they are, in the politic body, like to humors in the natural, which

are apt to gather a preternatural heat, and to inflame. And let no

prince measure the danger of them by this, whether they be just or

unjust: for that were to imagine people, to be too reasonable; who

do often spurn at their own good: nor yet by this, whether the

griefs whereupon they rise, be in fact great or small: for they are

the most dangerous discontentments, where the fear is greater than the

feeling. Dolendi modus, timendi non item. Besides, in great

oppressions, the same things that provoke the patience, do withal mate

the courage; but in fears it is not so. Neither let any prince, or

state, be secure concerning discontentments, because they have been

often, or have been long, and yet no peril hath ensued: for as it is

true, that every vapor or fume doth not turn into a storm; so it is

nevertheless true, that storms, though they blow over divers times,

yet may fall at last; and, as the Spanish proverb noteth well, The

cord breaketh at the last by the weakest pull.

The causes and motives of seditions are, innovation in religion;

taxes; alteration of laws and customs; breaking of privileges; general

oppression; advancement of unworthy persons; strangers; dearths;

disbanded soldiers; factions grown desperate; and what soever, in

offending people, joineth and knitteth them in a common cause.

For the remedies; there may be some general preservatives, whereof

we will speak: as for the just cure, it must answer to the

particular disease; and so be left to counsel, rather than rule.

The first remedy or prevention is to remove, by all means

possible, that material cause of sedition whereof we spake; which

is, want and poverty in the estate. To which purpose serveth the

opening, and well-balancing of trade; the cherishing of

manufactures; the banishing of idleness; the repressing of waste,

and excess, by sumptuary laws; the improvement and husbanding of the

soil; the regulating of prices of things vendible; the moderating of

taxes and tributes; and the like. Generally, it is to be foreseen that

the population of a kingdom (especially if it be not mown down by

wars) do not exceed the stock of the kingdom, which should maintain

them. Neither is the population to be reckoned only by number; for a

smaller number, that spend more and earn less, do wear out an estate

sooner, than a greater number that live lower, and gather more.

Therefore the multiplying of nobility, and other degrees of quality,

in an over proportion to the common people, doth speedily bring a

state to necessity; and so doth likewise an overgrown clergy; for they

bring nothing to the stock; and in like manner, when more are bred

scholars, than preferments can take off.

It is likewise to be remembered, that forasmuch as the increase of

any estate must be upon the foreigner (for whatsoever is somewhere

gotten, is somewhere lost), there be but three things, which one

nation selleth unto another; the commodity as nature yieldeth it;

the manufacture; and the vecture, or carriage. So that if these

three wheels go, wealth will flow as in a spring tide. And it cometh

many times to pass, that materiam superabit opus; that the work and

carriage is more worth than the material, and enricheth a state

more; as is notably seen in the Low-Countrymen, who have the best

mines above ground, in the world.

Above all things, good policy is to be used, that the treasure and

moneys, in a state, be not gathered into few hands. For otherwise a

state may have a great stock, and yet starve. And money is like

muck, not good except it be spread. This is done, chiefly by

suppressing, or at least keeping a strait hand, upon the devouring

trades of usury, ingrossing great pasturages, and the like.

For removing discontentments, or at least the danger of them;

there is in every state (as we know) two portions of subjects; the

noblesse and the commonalty. When one of these is discontent, the

danger is not great; for common people are of slow motion, if they

be not excited by the greater sort; and the greater sort are of

small strength, except the multitude be apt, and ready to move of

themselves. Then is the danger, when the greater sort, do but wait for

the troubling of the waters amongst the meaner, that then they may

declare themselves. The poets feign, that the rest of the gods would

have bound Jupiter; which he hearing of, by the counsel of Pallas,

sent for Briareus, with his hundred hands, to come in to his aid. An

emblem, no doubt, to show how safe it is for monarchs, to make sure of

the good will of common people. To give moderate liberty for griefs

and discontentments to evaporate (so it be without too great insolency

or bravery), is a safe way. For he that turneth the humors back, and

maketh the wound bleed inwards, endangereth malign ulcers, and

pernicious imposthumations.

The part of Epimetheus mought well become Prometheus, in the case of

discontentments: for there is not a better provision against them.

Epimetheus, when griefs and evils flew abroad, at last shut the lid,

and kept hope in the bottom of the vessel. Certainly, the politic

and artificial nourishing, and entertaining of hopes, and carrying men

from hopes to hopes, is one of the best antidotes against the poison

of discontentments. And it is a certain sign of a wise government

and proceeding, when it can hold men's hearts by hopes, when it cannot

by satisfaction; and when it can handle things, in such manner, as

no evil shall appear so peremptory, but that it hath some outlet of

hope; which is the less hard to do, because both particular persons

and factions, are apt enough to flatter themselves, or at least to

brave that, which they believe not.

Also the foresight and prevention, that there be no likely or fit

head, whereunto discontented persons may resort, and under whom they

may join, is a known, but an excellent point of caution. I

understand a fit head, to be one that hath greatness and reputation;

that hath confidence with the discontented party, and upon whom they

turn their eyes; and that is thought discontented, in his own

particular: which kind of persons, are either to be won, and

reconciled to the state, and that in a fast and true manner; or to

be fronted with some other, of the same party, that may oppose them,

and so divide the reputation. Generally, the dividing and breaking, of

all factions and combinations that are adverse to the state, and

setting them at distance, or at least distrust, amongst themselves, is

not one of the worst remedies. For it is a desperate case, if those

that hold with the proceeding of the state, be full of discord and

faction, and those that are against it, be entire and united.

I have noted, that some witty and sharp speeches, which have

fallen from princes, have given fire to seditions. Caesar did

himself infinite hurt in that speech, Sylla nescivit literas, non

potuit dictare; for it did utterly cut off that hope, which men had

entertained, that he would at one time or other give over his

dictatorship. Galba undid himself by that speech, legi a se militem,

non emi; for it put the soldiers out of hope of the donative. Probus

likewise, by that speech, Si vixero, non opus erit amplius Romano

imperio militibus; a speech of great despair for the soldiers. And

many the like. Surely princes had need, in tender matters and ticklish

times, to beware what they say; especially in these short speeches,

which fly abroad like darts, and are thought to be shot out of their

secret intentions. For as for large discourses, they are flat

things, and not so much noted.

Lastly, let princes, against all events, not be without some great

person, one or rather more, of military valor, near unto them, for the

repressing of seditions in their beginnings. For without that, there

useth to be more trepidation in court upon the first breaking out of

troubles, than were fit. And the state runneth the danger of that

which Tacitus saith; Atque is habitus animorum fuit, ut pessimum

facinus auderent pauci, plures vellent, omnes paterentur. But let such

military persons be assured, and well reputed of, rather than factious

and popular; holding also good correspondence with the other great men

in the state; or else the remedy, is worse than the disease.

OF ATHEISM

I had rather believe all the fables in the Legend, and the Talmud,

and the Alcoran, than that this universal frame is without a mind. And

therefore, God never wrought miracle, to convince atheism, because his

ordinary works convince it. It is true, that a little philosophy

inclineth man's mind to atheism; but depth in philosophy bringeth

men's minds about to religion. For while the mind of man looketh

upon second causes scattered, it may sometimes rest in them, and go no

further; but when it beholdeth the chain of them, confederate and

linked together, it must needs fly to Providence and Deity. Nay,

even that school which is most accused of atheism doth most

demonstrate religion; that is, the school of Leucippus and

Democritus and Epicurus. For it is a thousand times more credible,

that four mutable elements, and one immutable fifth essence, duly

and eternally placed, need no God, than that an army of infinite small

portions, or seeds unplaced, should have produced this order and

beauty, without a divine marshal. The Scripture saith, The fool hath

said in his heart, there is no God; it is not said, The fool hath

thought in his heart; so as he rather saith it, by rote to himself, as

that he would have, than that he can thoroughly believe it, or be

persuaded of it. For none deny, there is a God, but those, for whom it

maketh that there were no God. It appeareth in nothing more, that

atheism is rather in the lip, than in the heart of man, than by

this; that atheists will ever be talking of that their opinion, as

if they fainted in it, within themselves, and would be glad to be

strengthened, by the consent of others. Nay more, you shall have

atheists strive to get disciples, as it fareth with other sects.

And, which is most of all, you shall have of them, that will suffer

for atheism, and not recant; whereas if they did truly think, that

there were no such thing as God, why should they trouble themselves?

Epicurus is charged, that he did but dissemble for his credit's

sake, when he affirmed there were blessed natures, but such as enjoyed

themselves, without having respect to the government of the world.

Wherein they say he did temporize; though in secret, he thought

there was no God. But certainly he is traduced; for his words are

noble and divine: Non deos vulgi negare profanum; sed vulgi

opiniones diis applicare profanum. Plato could have said no more.

And although he had the confidence, to deny the administration, he had

not the power, to deny the nature. The Indians of the West, have names

for their particular gods, though they have no name for God: as if the

heathens should have had the names Jupiter, Apollo, Mars, etc., but

not the word Deus; which shows that even those barbarous people have

the notion, though they have not the latitude and extent of it. So

that against atheists, the very savages take part, with the very

subtlest philosophers. The contemplative atheist is rare: a

Diagoras, a Bion, a Lucian perhaps, and some others; and yet they seem

to be more than they are; for that all that impugn a received

religion, or superstition, are by the adverse part branded with the

name of atheists. But the great atheists, indeed are hypocrites; which

are ever handling holy things, but without feeling; so as they must

needs be cauterized in the end. The causes of atheism are: divisions

in religion, if they be many; for any one main division, addeth zeal

to both sides; but many divisions introduce atheism. Another is,

scandal of priests; when it is come to that which St. Bernard saith,

non est jam dicere, ut populus sic sacerdos; quia nec sic populus ut

sacerdos. A third is, custom of profane scoffing in holy matters;

which doth, by little and little, deface the reverence of religion.

And lastly, learned times, specially with peace and prosperity; for

troubles and adversities do more bow men's minds to religion. They

that deny a God, destroy man's nobility; for certainly man is of kin

to the beasts, by his body; and, if he be not of kin to God, by his

spirit, he is a base and ignoble creature. It destroys likewise

magnanimity, and the raising of human nature; for take an example of a

dog, and mark what a generosity and courage he will put on, when he

finds himself maintained by a man; who to him is instead of a God,

or melior natura; which courage is manifestly such, as that

creature, without that confidence of a better nature than his own,

could never attain. So man, when he resteth and assureth himself, upon

divine protection and favor, gathered a force and faith, which human

nature in itself could not obtain. Therefore, as atheism is in all

respects hateful, so in this, that it depriveth human nature of the

means to exalt itself, above human frailty. As it is in particular

persons, so it is in nations. Never was there such a state for

magnanimity as Rome. Of this state hear what Cicero saith: Quam

volumus licet, patres conscripti, nos amemus, tamen nec numero

Hispanos, nec robore Gallos, nec calliditate Poenos, nec artibus

Graecos, nec denique hoc ipso hujus gentis et terrae domestico

nativoque sensu Italos ipsos et Latinos; sed pietate, ad religione,

atque hac una sapientia, quod deorum immortalium numine omnia regi

gubernarique perspeximus, omnes gentes nationesque superavimus.

OF SUPERSTITION

It were better to have no opinion of God at all, than such an

opinion, as is unworthy of him. For the one is unbelief, the other

is contumely; and certainly superstition is the reproach of the Deity.

Plutarch saith well to that purpose: Surely (saith he) I had rather

a great deal, men should say, there was no sitch man at all, as

Plutarch, than that they should say, that there was one Plutarch, that

would eat his children as soon as they were born; as the poets speak

of Saturn. And as the contumely is greater towards God, so the

danger is greater towards men. Atheism leaves a man to sense, to

philosophy, to natural piety, to laws, to reputation all which may

be guides to an outward moral virtue, though religion were not; but

superstition dismounts all these, and erecteth an absolute monarchy,

in the minds of men. Therefore theism did never perturb states; for it

makes men wary of themselves, as looking no further: and we see the

times inclined to atheism (as the time of Augustus Caesar) were

civil times. But superstition hath been the confusion of many

states, and bringeth in a new primum mobile, that ravisheth all the

spheres of government. The master of superstition, is the people;

and in all superstition, wise men follow fools; and arguments are

fitted to practice, in a reversed order. It was gravely said by some

of the prelates in the Council of Trent, where the doctrine of the

Schoolmen bare great sway, that the Schoolmen were like astronomers,

which did feign eccentrics and epicycles, and such engines of orbs, to

save the phenomena; though they knew there were no such things; and in

like manner, that the Schoolmen had framed a number of subtle and

intricate axioms, and theorems, to save the practice of the church.

The causes of superstition are: pleasing and sensual rites and

ceremonies; excess of outward and pharisaical holiness; overgreat

reverence of traditions, which cannot but load the church; the

stratagems of prelates, for their own ambition and lucre; the favoring

too much of good intentions, which openeth the gate to conceits and

novelties; the taking an aim at divine matters, by human, which cannot

but breed mixture of imaginations: and, lastly, barbarous times,

especially joined with calamities and disasters. Superstition, without

a veil, is a deformed thing; for, as it addeth deformity to an ape, to

be so like a man, so the similitude of superstition to religion, makes

it the more deformed. And as wholesome meat corrupteth to little

worms, so good forms and orders corrupt, into a number of petty

observances. There is a superstition in avoiding superstition, when

men think to do best, if they go furthest from the superstition,

formerly received; therefore care would be had that (as it fareth in

the good be not taken away with the bad; which commonly is done,

when the people is the reformer.

OF TRAVEL

Travel, in the younger sort, is a part of education, in the elder, a

part of experience. He that travelleth into a country, before he

hath some entrance into the language, goeth to school, and not to

travel. That young men travel under some tutor, or grave servant, I

allow well; so that he be such a one that hath the language, and

hath been in the country before; whereby he may be able to tell them

what things are worthy to be seen, in the country where they go;

what acquaintances they are to seek; what exercises, or discipline,

the place yieldeth. For else, young men shall go hooded, and look

abroad little. It is a strange thing, that in sea voyages, where there

is nothing to be seen, but sky and sea, men should make diaries; but

in land-travel, wherein so much is to be observed, for the most part

they omit it; as if chance were fitter to be registered, than

observation. Let diaries, therefore, be brought in use. The things

to be seen and observed are: the courts of princes, especially when

they give audience to ambassadors; the courts of justice, while they

sit and hear causes; and so of consistories ecclesiastic; the churches

and monasteries, with the monuments which are therein extant; the

walls and fortifications of cities, and towns, and so the heavens

and harbors; antiquities and ruins; libraries; colleges, disputations,

and lectures, where any are; shipping and navies; houses and gardens

of state and pleasure, near great cities; armories; arsenals;

magazines; exchanges; burses; warehouses; exercises of horsemanship,

fencing, training of soldiers, and the like; comedies, such

whereunto the better sort of persons do resort; treasuries of jewels

and robes; cabinets and rarities; and, to conclude, whatsoever is

memorable, in the places where they go. After all which, the tutors,

or servants, ought to make diligent inquiry. As for triumphs, masks,

feasts, weddings, funerals, capital executions, and such shows, men

need not to be put in mind of them; yet are they not to be

neglected. If you will have a young man to put his travel into a

little room, and in short time to gather much, this you must do.

First, as was said, he must have some entrance into the language

before he goeth. Then he must have such a servant, or tutor, as

knoweth the country, as was likewise said. Let him carry with him

also, some card or book, describing the country where he travelleth;

which will be a good key to his inquiry. Let him keep also a diary.

Let him not stay long, in one city or town; more or less as the

place deserveth, but not long; nay, when he stayeth in one city or

town, let him change his lodging from one end and part of the town, to

another; which is a great adamant of acquaintance. Let him sequester

himself, from the company of his countrymen, and diet in such

places, where there is good company of the nation where he travelleth.

Let him, upon his removes from one place to another, procure

recommendation to some person of quality, residing in the place

whither he removeth; that he may use his favor, in those things he

desireth to see or know. Thus he may abridge his travel, with much

profit. As for the acquaintance, which is to be sought in travel; that

which is most of all profitable, is acquaintance with the

secretaries and employed men of ambassadors: for so in travelling in

one country, he shall suck the experience of many. Let him also see,

and visit, eminent persons in all kinds, which are of great name

abroad; that he may be able to tell, how the life agreeth with the

fame. For quarrels, they are with care and discretion to be avoided.

They are commonly for mistresses, healths, place, and words. And let a

man beware, how he keepeth company with choleric and quarrelsome

persons; for they will engage him into their own quarrels. When a

traveller returneth home, let him not leave the countries, where he

hath travelled, altogether behind him; but maintain a correspondence

by letters, with those of his acquaintance. which are of most worth.

And let his travel appear rather in his discourse, than his apparel or

gesture; and in his discourse, let him be rather advised in his

answers, than forward to tell stories; and let it appear that he

doth not change his country manners, for those of foreign parts; but

only prick in some flowers, of that he hath learned abroad, into the

customs of his own country.

OF EMPIRE

It is a miserable state of mind, to have few things to desire, and

many things to fear; and yet that commonly is the case of kings;

who, being at the highest, want matter of desire, which makes their

minds more languishing; and have many representations of perils and

shadows, which makes their minds the less clear. And this is one

reason also, of that effect which the Scripture speaketh of, That

the king's heart is inscrutable. For multitude of jealousies, and lack

of some predominant desire, that should marshal and put in order all

the rest, maketh any man's heart, hard to find or sound. Hence it

comes likewise, that princes many times make themselves desires, and

set their hearts upon toys; sometimes upon a building; sometimes

upon erecting of an order; sometimes upon the advancing of a person;

sometimes upon obtaining excellency in some art, or feat of the

hand; as Nero for playing on the harp, Domitian for certainty of the

hand with the arrow, Commodus for playing at fence, Caracalla for

driving chariots, and the like. This seemeth incredible, unto those

that know not the principle, that the mind of man, is more cheered and

refreshed by profiting in small things, than by standing at a stay, in

great. We see also that kings that have been fortunate conquerors,

in their first years, it being not possible for them to go forward

infinitely, but that they must have some check, or arrest in their

fortunes, turn in their latter years to be superstitious, and

melancholy; as did Alexander the Great; Diocletian; and in our memory,

Charles the Fifth; and others: for he that is used to go forward,

and findeth a stop, falleth out of his own favor, and is not the thing

he was.

To speak now of the true temper of empire, it is a thing rare and

hard to keep; for both temper, and distemper, consist of contraries.

But it is one thing, to mingle contraries, another to interchange

them. The answer of Apollonius to Vespasian, is full of excellent

instruction. Vespasian asked him, What was Nero's overthrow? He

answered, Nero could touch and tune the harp well; but in

government, sometimes he used to wind the pins too high, sometimes

to let them down too low. And certain it is, that nothing destroyeth

authority so much, as the unequal and untimely interchange of power

pressed too far, and relaxed too much.

This is true, that the wisdom of all these latter times, in princes'

affairs, is rather fine deliveries, and shiftings of dangers and

mischiefs, when they are near, than solid and grounded courses to keep

them aloof. But this is but to try masteries with fortune. And let men

beware, how they neglect and suffer matter of trouble to be prepared

for no man can forbid the spark, nor tell whence it may come. The

difficulties in princes' business are many and great; but the greatest

difficulty, is often in their own mind. For it is common with

princes (saith Tacitus) to will contradictories, Sunt plerumque

regum voluntates vehementes, et inter se contrariae. For it is the

solecism of power, to think to command the end, and yet not to

endure the mean.

Kings have to deal with their neighbors, their wives, their

children, their prelates or clergy, their nobles, their

second-nobles or gentlemen, their merchants, their commons, and

their men of war; and from all these arise dangers, if care and

circumspection be not used.

First for their neighbors; there can no general rule be given (for

occasions are so variable), save one, which ever holdeth, which is,

that princes do keep due sentinel, that none of their neighbors do

ever grow so (by increase of territory, by embracing of trade, by

approaches, or the like), as they become more able to annoy them, than

they were. And this is generally the work of standing counsels, to

foresee and to hinder it. During that triumvirate of kings, King Henry

the Eighth of England, Francis the First King of France, and Charles

the Fifth Emperor, there was such a watch kept, that none of the three

could win a palm of ground, but the other two would straightways

balance it, either by confederation, or, if need were, by a war; and

would not in any wise take up peace at interest. And the like was done

by that league (which Guicciardini saith was the security of Italy)

made between Ferdinando King of Naples, Lorenzius Medici, and

Ludovicus Sforza, potentates, the one of Florence, the other of Milan.

Neither is the opinion of some of the Schoolmen, to be received,

that a war cannot justly be made, but upon a precedent injury, or

provocation. For there is no question, but a just fear of an

imminent danger, though there be no blow given, is a lawful cause of a

war.

For their wives; there are cruel examples of them. Livia is infamed,

for the poisoning of her husband; Roxalana, Solyman's wife, was the

destruction of that renowned prince, Sultan Mustapha, and otherwise

troubled his house and succession; Edward the Second of England, his

queen, had the principal hand in the deposing and murder of her

husband. This kind of danger, is then to be feared chiefly, when the

wives have plots, for the raising of their own children; or else

that they be advoutresses.

For their children; the tragedies likewise of dangers from them,

have been many. And generally, the entering of fathers into

suspicion of their children, hath been ever unfortunate. The

destruction of Mustapha (that we named before) was so fatal to

Solyman's line, as the succession of the Turks, from Solyman until

this day, is suspected to be untrue, and of strange blood; for that

Selymus the Second, was thought to be suppositious. The destruction of

Crispus, a young prince of rare towardness, by Constantinus the Great,

his father, was in like manner fatal to his house; for both

Constantinus and Constance, his sons, died violent deaths; and

Constantius, his other son, did little better; who died indeed of

sickness, but after that Julianus had taken arms against him. The

destruction of Demetrius, son to Philip the Second of Macedon,

turned upon the father, who died of repentance. And many like examples

there are; but few or none, where the fathers had good by such

distrust; except it were, where the sons were up in open arms

against them; as was Selymus the First against Bajazet; and the

three sons of Henry the Second, King of England.

For their prelates; when they are proud and great, there is also

danger from them; as it was in the times of Anselmus, and Thomas

Becket, Archbishops of Canterbury; who, with their croziers, did

almost try it with the king's sword; and yet they had to deal with

stout and haughty kings, William Rufus, Henry the First, and Henry the

Second. The danger is not from that state, but where it hath a

dependence of foreign authority; or where the churchmen come in and

are elected, not by the collation of the king, or particular

patrons, but by the people.

For their nobles; to keep them at a distance, it is not amiss; but

to depress them, may make a king more absolute, but less safe; and

less able to perform, any thing that he desires. I have noted it, in

my History of King Henry the Seventh of England, who depressed his

nobility; whereupon it came to pass, that his times were full of

difficidties and troubles; for the nobility, though they continued

loyal unto him, yet did they not co-operate with him in his

business. So that in effect, he was fain to do all things himself.

For their second-nobles; there is not much danger from them, being a

body dispersed. They may sometimes discourse high, but that doth

little hurt; besides, they are a counterpoise to the higher

nobility, that they grow not too potent; and, lastly, being the most

immediate in authority, with the common people, they do best temper

popular commotions.

For their merchants; they are vena porta; and if they flourish

not, a kingdom may have good limbs, but will have empty veins, and

nourish little. Taxes and imposts upon them, do seldom good to the

king's revenue; for that that wins in the hundred, he leeseth in the

shire; the particular rates being increased, but the total bulk of

trading, rather decreased.

For their commons; there is little danger from them, except it be,

where they have great and potent heads; or where you meddle with the

point of religion, or their customs, or means of life.

For their men of war; it is a dangerous state, where they live and

remain in a body, and are used to donatives; whereof we see examples

in the janizaries, and pretorian bands of Rome; but trainings of

men, and arming them in several places, and under several

commanders, and without donatives, are things of defence, and no

danger.

Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which cause good or evil times;

and which have much veneration, but no rest. All precepts concerning

kings, are in effect comprehended in those two remembrances: memento

quod es homo; and memento quod es Deus, or vice Dei; the one

bridleth their power, and the other their will.

OF COUNSEL

The greatest trust, between man and man, is the trust of giving

counsel. For in other confidences, men commit the parts of life; their

lands, their goods, their children, their credit, some particular

affair; but to such as they make their counsellors, they commit the

whole: by how much the more, they are obliged to all faith and

integrity. The wisest princes need not think it any diminution to

their greatness, or derogation to their sufficiency, to rely upon

counsel. God himself is not without, but hath made it one of the great

names of his blessed Son: The Counsellor. Solomon hath pronounced,

that in counsel is stability. Things will have their first, or

second agitation: if they be not tossed upon the arguments of counsel,

they will be tossed upon the waves of fortune; and be full of

inconstancy, doing and undoing, like the reeling of a drunken man.

Solomon's son found the force of counsel, as his father saw the

necessity of it. For the beloved kingdom of God, was first rent, and

broken, by ill counsel; upon which counsel, there are set for our

instruction, the two marks whereby bad counsel is for ever best

discerned; that it was young counsel, for the person; and violent

counsel, for the matter.

The ancient times, do set forth in figure, both the incorporation,

and inseparable conjunction, of counsel with kings, and the wise and

politic use of counsel by kings: the one, in that they say Jupiter did

marry Metis, which signifieth counsel; whereby they intend that

Sovereignty, is manied to Counsel: the other in that which

followeth, which was thus: They say, after Jupiter was married to

Metis, she conceived by him, and was with child, but Jupiter

suffered her not to stay, till she brought forth, but eat her up;

whereby he became himself with child, and was delivered of Pallas

armed, out of his head. Which monstrous fable containeth a secret of

empire; how kings are to make use of their counsel of state. That

first, they ought to refer matters unto them, which is the first

begetting, or impregnation; but when they are elaborate, moulded,

and shaped in the womb of their counsel, and grow ripe, and ready to

be brought forth, that then they suffer not their counsel, to go

through with the resolution and direction, as if it depended on

them; but take the matter back into their own hands, and make it

appear to the world, that the decrees and final directions (which,

because they come forth, with prudence and power, are resembled to

Pallas armed) proceeded from themselves; and not only from their

authority, but (the more to add reputation to themselves) from their

head and device.

Let us now speak of the inconveniences of counsel, and of the

remedies. The inconveniences that have been noted, in calling and

using counsel, are three. First, the revealing of affairs, whereby

they become less secret. Secondly, the weakening of the authority of

princes, as if they were less of themselves. Thirdly, the danger of

being unfaithfully counselled, and more for the good of them that

counsel, than of him that is counselled. For which inconveniences, the

doctrine of Italy, and practice of France, in some kings' times,

hath introduced cabinet counsels; a remedy worse than the disease.

As to secrecy; princes are not bound to communicate all matters,

with all counsellors; but may extract and select. Neither is it

necessary, that he that consulteth what he should do, should declare

what he will do. But let princes beware, that the unsecreting of their

affairs, comes not from themselves. And as for cabinet counsels, it

may be their motto, plenus rimarum sum: one futile person, that maketh

it his glory to tell, will do more hurt than many, that know it

their duty to conceal. It is true there be some affairs, which require

extreme secrecy, which will hardly go beyond one or two persons,

besides the king: neither are those counsels unprosperous; for,

besides the secrecy, they commonly go on constantly, in one spirit

of direction, without distraction. But then it must be a prudent king,

such as is able to grind with a handmill; and those inward counsellors

had need also be wise men, and especially true and trusty to the

king's ends; as it was with King Henry the Seventh of England, who, in

his great business, imparted himself to none, except it were to Morton

and Fox.

For weakening of authority; the fable showeth the remedy. Nay, the

majesty of kings, is rather exalted than diminished, when they are

in the chair of counsel; neither was there ever prince, bereaved of

his dependences, by his counsel, except where there hath been,

either an over-greatness in one counsellor, or an over-strict

combination in divers; which are things soon found, and holpen.

For the last inconvenience, that men will counsel, with an eye to

themselves; certainly, non inveniet fidem super terram is meant, of

the nature of times, and not of all particular persons. There be, that

are in nature faithful, and sincere, and plain, and direct; not crafty

and involved; let princes, above all, draw to themselves such natures.

Besides, counsellors are not commonly so united, but that one

counsellor, keepeth sentinel over another; so that if any do counsel

out of faction or private ends, it commonly comes to the king's ear.

But the best remedy is, if princes know their counsellors, as well

as their counsellors know them:

Principis est virtus maxima nosse suos.

And on the other side, counsellors should not be too speculative

into their sovereign's person. The true composition of a counsellor,

is rather to be skilful in their master's business than in his nature;

for then he is like to advise him, and not feed his humor. It is of

singular use to princes, if they take the opinions of their counsel,

both separately and together. For private opinion is more free; but

opinion before others, is more reverent. In private, men are more bold

in their own humors; and in consort, men are more obnoxious to others'

humors; therefore it is good to take both; and of the inferior sort,

rather in private, to preserve freedom; of the greater, rather in

consort, to preserve respect. It is in vain for princes, to take

counsel concerning matters, if they take no counsel likewise

concerning persons; for all matters are as dead images; and the life

of the execution of affairs, resteth in the good choice of persons.

Neither is it enough, to consult concerning persons secundum genera,

as in an idea, or mathematical description, what the kind and

character of the person should be; for the greatest errors are

committed, and the most judgment is shown, in the choice of

individuals. It was truly said, optimi consiliarii mortui: books

will speak plain, when counsellors blanch. Therefore it is good to

be conversant in them, specially the books of such as themselves

have been actors upon the stage.

The counsels at this day, in most places, are but familiar meetings,

where matters are rather talked on, than debated. And they run too

swift, to the order, or act, of counsel. It were better that in causes

of weight, the matter were propounded one day, and not spoken to

till the next day; in nocte consilium. So was it done in the

Commission of Union, between England and Scotland; which was a grave

and orderly assembly. I commend set days for petitions; for both it

gives the suitors more certainty for their attendance, and it frees

the meetings for matters of estate, that they may hoc agere. In choice

of committees; for ripening business for the counsel, it is better

to choose indifferent persons, than to make an indifferency, by

putting in those, that are strong on both sides. I commend also

standing commissions; as for trade, for treasure, for war, for

suits, for some provinces; for where there be divers particular

counsels, and but one counsel of estate (as it is in Spain), they are,

in effect, no more than standing commissions: save that they have

greater authority. Let such as are to inform counsels, out of their

particular professions (as lawyers, seamen, mintmen, and the like)

be first heard before committees; and then, as occasion serves, before

the counsel. And let them not come in multitudes, or in a tribunitious

manner; for that is to clamor counsels, not to inform them. A long

table and a square table, or seats about the walls, seem things of

form, but are things of substance; for at a long table a few at the

upper end, in effect, sway all the business; but in the other form,

there is more use of the counsellors' opinions, that sit lower. A

king, when he presides in counsel, let him beware how he opens his own

inclination too much, in that which he propoundeth; for else

counsellors will but take the wind of him, and instead of giving

free counsel, sing him a song of placebo.

OF DELAYS

Fortune is like the market; where many times if you can stay a

little, the price will fall. Again, it is sometimes like Sibylla's

offer; which at first, offereth the commodity at full, then

consumeth part and part, and still holdeth up the price. For

occasion (as it is in the common verse) turneth a bald noddle, after

she hath presented her locks in front, and no hold taken or at least

turneth the handle of the bottle, first to be received, and after

the belly, which is hard to clasp. There is surely no greater

wisdom, than well to time the beginnings, and onsets, of things.

Dangers are no more light, if they once seem light; and more dangers

have deceived men, than forced them. Nay, it were better, to meet some

dangers half way, though they come nothing near, than to keep too long

a watch upon their approaches; for if a man watch too long, it is odds

he will fall asleep. On the other side, to be deceived with too long

shadows (as some have been, when the moon was low, and shone on

their enemies' back), and so to shoot off before the time; or to teach

dangers to come on, by over early buckling towards them; is another

extreme. The ripeness, or unripeness, of the occasion (as we said)

must ever be well weighed; and generally it is good, to commit the

beginnings of an great actions to Argus, with his hundred eyes, and

the ends to Briareus, with his hundred hands; first to watch, and then

to speed. For the helmet of Pluto, which maketh the politic man go

invisible, is secrecy in the counsel, and celerity in the execution.

For when things are once come to the execution, there is no secrecy,

comparable to celerity; like the motion of a bullet in the air,

which flieth so swift, as it outruns the eye.

OF CUNNING

We take cunning for a sinister or crooked wisdom. And certainly

there is a great difference, between a cunning man, and a wise man;

not only in point of honesty, but in point of ability. There be,

that can pack the cards, and yet cannot play well; so there are some

that are good in canvasses and factions, that are otherwise weak

men. Again, it is one thing to understand persons, and another thing

to understand matters; for many are perfect in men's humors, that

are not greatly capable of the real part of business; which is the

constitution of one that hath studied men, more than books. Such men

are fitter for practice, than for counsel; and they are good, but in

their own alley: turn them to new men, and they have lost their aim;

so as the old rule, to know a fool from a wise man, Mitte ambos

nudos ad ignotos, et videbis, doth scarce hold for them. And because

these cunning men, are like haberdashers of small wares, it is not

amiss to set forth their shop.

It is a point of cunning, to wait upon him with whom you speak, with

your eye; as the Jesuits give it in precept: for there be many wise

men, that have secret hearts, and transparent countenances. Yet this

would be done with a demure abasing of your eye, sometimes, as the

Jesuits also do use.

Another is, that when you have anything to obtain, of present

despatch, you entertain and amuse the party, with whom you deal,

with some other discourse; that he be not too much awake to make

objections. I knew a counsellor and secretary, that never came to

Queen Elizabeth of England, with bills to sign, but he would always

first put her into some discourse of estate, that she mought the

less mind the bills.

The like surprise may be made by moving things, when the party is in

haste, and cannot stay to consider advisedly of that is moved.

If a man would cross a business, that he doubts some other would

handsomely and effectually move, let him pretend to wish it well,

and move it himself in such sort as may foil it.

The breaking off, in the midst of that one was about to say, as if

he took himself up, breeds a greater appetite in him with whom you

confer, to know more.

And because it works better, when anything seemeth to be gotten from

you by question, than if you offer it of yourself, you may lay a

bait for a question, by showing another visage, and countenance,

than you are wont; to the end to give occasion, for the party to

ask, what the matter is of the change? As Nehemias did; And I had

not before that time, been sad before the king.

In things that are tender and unpleasing, it is good to break the

ice, by some whose words are of less weight, and to reserve the more

weighty voice, to come in as by chance, so that he may be asked the

question upon the other's speech: as Narcissus did, relating to

Claudius the marriage of Messalina and Silius.

In things that a man would not be seen in himself, it is a point

of cunning, to borrow the name of the world; as to say, The world

says, or There is a speech abroad.

I knew one that, when he wrote a letter, he would put that, which

was most material, in the postscript, as if it had been a by-matter.

I knew another that, when he came to have speech, he would pass over

that, that he intended most; and go forth, and come back again, and

speak of it as of a thing, that he had almost forgot.

Some procure themselves, to be surprised, at such times as it is

like the party that they work upon, will suddenly come upon them;

and to be found with a letter in their hand or doing somewhat which

they are not accustomed; to the end, they may be apposed of those

things, which of themselves they are desirous to utter.

It is a point of cunning, to let fall those words in a man's own

name, which he would have another man learn, and use, and thereupon

take advantage. I knew two, that were competitors for the

secretary's place in Queen Elizabeth's time, and yet kept good quarter

between themselves; and would confer, one with another, upon the

business; and the one of them said, That to be a secretary, in the

declination of a monarchy, was a ticklish thing, and that he did not

affect it: the other straight caught up those words, and discoursed

with divers of his friends, that he had no reason to desire to be

secretary, in the declination of a monarchy. The first man took hold

of it, and found means it was told the Queen; who, hearing of a

declination of a monarchy, took it so ill, as she would never after

hear of the other's suit.

There is a cunning, which we in England can, the turning of the

cat in the pan; which is, when that which a man says to another, he

lays it as if another had said it to him. And to say truth, it is

not easy, when such a matter passed between two, to make it appear

from which of them it first moved and began.

It is a way that some men have, to glance and dart at others, by

justifying themselves by negatives; as to say, This I do not; as

Tigellinus did towards Burrhus, Se non diversas spes, sed

incolumitatem imperatoris simpliciter spectare.

Some have in readiness so many tales and stories, as there is

nothing they would insinuate, but they can wrap it into a tale;

which serveth both to keep themselves more in guard, and to make

others carry it with more pleasure. It is a good point of cunning, for

a man to shape the answer he would have, in his own words and

propositions; for it makes the other party stick the less.

It is strange how long some men will lie in wait to speak somewhat

they desire to say; and how far about they will fetch; and how many

other matters they will beat over, to come near it. It is a thing of

great patience, but yet of much use.

A sudden, bold, and unexpected question doth many times surprise a

man, and lay him open. Like to him that, having changed his name,

and walking in Paul's, another suddenly came behind him, and called

him by his true name whereat straightways he looked back.

But these small wares, and petty points, of cunning, are infinite;

and it were a good deed to make a list of them; for that nothing

doth more hurt in a state, than that cunning men pass for wise.

But certainly some there are that know the resorts and fans of

business, that cannot sink into the main of it; like a house that hath

convenient stairs and entries, but never a fair room. Therefore you

shall see them find out pretty looses in the conclusion, but are no

ways able to examine or debate matters. And yet commonly they take

advantage of their inability, and would be thought wits of

direction. Some build rather upon the abusing of others, and (as we

now say) putting tricks upon them, than upon soundness of their own

proceedings. But Solomon saith, Prudens advertit ad gressus suos;

stultus divertit ad dolos.

OF WISDOM FOR A MAN'S SELF

An ant is a wise creature for itself, but it is a shrewd thing, in

an orchard or garden. And certainly, men that are great lovers of

themselves, waste the public. Divide with reason; between selflove and

society; and be so true to thyself, as thou be not false to others;

specially to thy king and country. It is a poor centre of a man's

actions, himself. It is left earth. For that only stands fast upon

his own centre; whereas all things, that have affinity with the

heavens, move upon the centre of another, which they benefit. The

referring of all to a man's self, is more tolerable in a sovereign

prince; because themselves are not only themselves, but their good and

evil is at the peril of the public fortune. But it is a desperate

evil, in a servant to a prince, or a citizen in a republic. For

whatsoever affairs pass such a man's hands, he crooketh them to his

own ends; which must needs be often eccentric to the ends of his

master, or state. Therefore, let princes, or states, choose such

servants, as have not this mark; except they mean their service should

be made but the accessory. That which maketh the effect more

pernicious, is that all proportion is lost. It were disproportion

enough, for the servant's good to be preferred before the master's;

but yet it is a greater extreme, when a little good of the servant,

shall carry things against a great good of the master's. And yet

that is the case of bad officers, treasurers, ambassadors, generals,

and other false and corrupt servants; which set a bias upon their

bowl, of their own petty ends and envies, to the overthrow of their

master's great and important affairs. And for the most part, the

good such servants receive, is after the model of their own fortune;

but the hurt they sell for that good, is after the model of their

master's fortune. And certainly it is the nature of extreme

self-lovers, as they will set an house on fire, and it were but to

roast their eggs; and yet these men many times hold credit with

their masters, because their study is but to please them, and profit

themselves; and for either respect, they will abandon the good of

their affairs.

Wisdom for a man's self is, in many branches thereof, a depraved

thing. It is the wisdom of rats, that will be sure to leave a house,

somewhat before it fall. It is the wisdom of the fox, that thrusts out

the badger, who digged and made room for him. It is the wisdom of

crocodiles, that shed tears when they would devour. But that which

is specially to be noted is, that those which (as Cicero says of

Pompey) are sui amantes, sine rivali, are many times unfortunate.

And whereas they have, all their times, sacrificed to themselves, they

become in the end, themselves sacrifices to the inconstancy of

fortune, whose wings they thought, by their self-wisdom, to have

pinioned.

OF INNOVATIONS

As the births of living creatures, at first are ill-shapen so are

all innovations, which are the births of time. Yet notwithstanding, as

those that first bring honor into their family, are commonly more

worthy than most that succeed, so the first precedent (if it be

good) is seldom attained by imitation. For ill, to man's nature, as it

stands perverted, hath a natural motion, strongest in continuance; but

good, as a forced motion, strongest at first. Surely every medicine is

an innovation; and he that will not apply new remedies, must expect

new evils; for time is the greatest innovator; and if time of course

alter things to the worse, and wisdom and counsel shall not alter them

to the better, what shall be the end? It is true, that what is settled

by custom, though it be not good, yet at least it is fit; and those

things which have long gone together, are, as it were, confederate

within themselves; whereas new things piece not so well; but though

they help by their utility, yet they trouble by their inconformity.

Besides, they are like strangers; more admired, and less favored.

All this is true, if time stood still; which contrariwise moveth so

round, that a froward retention of custom, is as turbulent a thing

as an innovation; and they that reverence too much old times, are

but a scorn to the new. It were good, therefore, that men in their

innovations would follow the example of time itself; which indeed

innovateth greatly, but quietly, by degrees scarce to be perceived.

For otherwise, whatsoever is new is unlooked for; and ever it mends

some, and pairs others; and he that holpen, takes it for a fortune,

and thanks the time; and he that is hurt, for a wrong, and imputeth it

to the author. It is good also, not to try experiments in states,

except the necessity be urgent, or the utility evident; and well to

beware, that it be the reformation, that draweth on the change, and

not the desire of change, that pretendeth the reformation. And lastly,

that the novelty, though it be not rejected, yet be held for a

suspect; and, as the Scripture saith, that we make a stand upon the

ancient way, and then look about us, and discover what is the straight

and left way, and so to walk in it.

OF DISPATCH

Affected dispatch is one of the most dangerous things to business

that can be. It is like that, which the physicians call

predigestion, or hasty digestion; which is sure to fill the body

full of crudities, and secret seeds of diseases. Therefore measure not

dispatch, by the times of sitting, but by the advancement of the

business. And as in races it is not the large stride or high lift that

makes the speed; so in business, the keeping close to the matter,

and not taking of it too much at once, procureth dispatch. It is the

care of some, only to come off speedily for the time; or to contrive

some false periods of business, because they may seem men of dispatch.

But it is one thing, to abbreviate by contracting, another by

cutting off. And business so handled, at several sittings or meetings,

goeth commonly backward and forward in an unsteady manner. I knew a

wise man that had it for a byword, when he saw men hasten to a

conclusion, Stay a little, that we may make an end the sooner.

On the other side, true dispatch is a rich thing. For time is the

measure of business, as money is of wares; and business is bought at a

dear hand, where there is small dispatch. The Spartans and Spaniards

have been noted to be of small dispatch; Mi venga la muerte de Spagna;

Let my death come from Spain; for then it will be sure to be long in

coming.

Give good hearing to those, that give the first information in

business; and rather direct them in the beginning, than interrupt them

in the continuance of their speeches; for he that is put out of his

own order, will go forward and backward, and be more tedious, while he

waits upon his memory, than he could have been, if he had gone on in

his own course. But sometimes it is seen, that the moderator is more

troublesome, than the actor.

Iterations are commonly loss of time. But there is no such gain of

time, as to iterate often the state of the question; for it chaseth

away many a frivolous speech, as it is coming forth. Long and

curious speeches, are as fit for dispatch, as a robe or mantle, with a

long train, is for race. Prefaces and passages, and excusations, and

other speeches of reference to the person, are great wastes of time;

and though they seem to proceed of modesty, they are bravery. Yet

beware of being too material, when there is any impediment or

obstruction in men's wills; for pre-occupation of mind ever

requireth preface of speech; like a fomentation to make the unguent

enter.

Above all things, order, and distribution, and singling out of

parts, is the life of dispatch; so as the distribution be not too

subtle: for he that doth not divide, will never enter well into

business; and he that divideth too much, will never come out of it

clearly. To choose time, is to save time; and an unseasonable

motion, is but beating the air. There be three parts of business;

the preparation, the debate or examination, and the perfection.

Whereof, if you look for dispatch, let the middle only be the work

of many, and the first and last the work of few. The proceeding upon

somewhat conceived in writing, doth for the most part facilitate

dispatch: for though it should be wholly rejected, yet that negative

is more pregnant of direction, than an indefinite; as ashes are more

generative than dust.

OF SEEMING WISE

It hath been an opinion, that the French are wiser than they seem,

and the Spaniards seem wiser than they are. But howsoever it be

between nations, certainly it is so between man and man. For as the

Apostle saith of godliness, Having a show of godliness, but denying

the power thereof; so certainly there are, in point of wisdom and

sufficiently, that do nothing or little very solemnly: magno conatu

nugas. It is a ridiculous thing, and fit for a satire to persons of

judgment, to see what shifts these formalists have, and what

prospectives to make superficies to seem body, that hath depth and

bulk. Some are so close and reserved, as they will not show their

wares, but by a dark light; and seem always to keep back somewhat; and

when they know within themselves, they speak of that they do not

well know, would nevertheless seem to others, to know of that which

they may not well speak. Some help themselves with countenance and

gesture, and are wise by signs; as Cicero saith of Piso, that when

he answered him he fetched one of his brows up to his forehead, and

bent the other down to his chin; Respondes, altero ad frontem sublato,

altero ad mentum depresso supercilio, crudelitatem tibi non placere.

Some think to bear it by speaking a great word, and being

peremptory; and go on, and take by admittance, that which they

cannot make good. Some, whatsoever is beyond their reach, will seem to

despise, or make light of it, as impertinent or curious; and so

would have their ignorance seem judgment. Some are never without a

difference, and commonly by amusing men with a subtilty, blanch the

matter; of whom A. Gellius saith, Hominem delirum, qui verborum

minutiis rerum frangit pondera. Of which kind also, Plato, in his

Protagoras, bringeth in Prodius in scorn, and maketh him make a

speech, that consisteth of distinction from the beginning to the

end. Generally, such men in all deliberations find ease to be of the

negative side, and affect a credit to object and foretell

difficulties; for when propositions are denied, there is an end of

them; but if they be allowed, it requireth a new work; which false

point of wisdom is the bane of business. To conclude, there is no

decaying merchant, or inward beggar, hath so many tricks to uphold the

credit of their wealth, as these empty persons have, to maintain the

credit of their sufficiency. Seeming wise men may make shift to get

opinion; but let no man choose them for employment; for certainly

you were better take for business, a man somewhat absurd, than

over-formal.

OF FRIENDSHIP

It had been hard for him that spake it to have put more truth and

untruth together in few words, than in that speech. Whatsoever is

delighted in solitude, is either a wild beast or a god. For it is most

true, that a natural and secret hatred, and aversation towards

society, in any man, hath somewhat of the savage beast; but it is most

untrue, that it should have any character at all, of the divine

nature; except it proceed, not out of a pleasure in solitude, but

out of a love and desire to sequester a man's self, for a higher

conversation: such as is found to have been falsely and feignedly in

some of the heathen; as Epimenides the Candian, Numa the Roman,

Empedocles the Sicilian, and Apollonius of Tyana; and truly and

really, in divers of the ancient hermits and holy fathers of the

church. But little do men perceive what solitude is, and how far it

extendeth. For a crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery

of pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love.

The Latin adage meeteth with it a little: Magna civitas, magna

solitudo; because in a great town friends are scattered; so that there

is not that fellowship, for the most part, which is in less

neighborhoods. But we may go further, and affirm most truly, that it

is a mere and miserable solitude to want true friends; without which

the world is but a wilderness; and even in this sense also of

solitude, whosoever in the frame of his nature and affections, is

unfit for friendship, he taketh it of the beast, and not from

humanity.

A principal fruit of friendship, is the ease and discharge of the

fulness and swellings of the heart, which passions of all kinds do

cause and induce. We know diseases of stoppings, and suffocations, are

the most dangerous in the body; and it is not much otherwise in the

mind; you may take sarza to open the liver, steel to open the

spleen, flowers of sulphur for the lungs, castoreum for the brain; but

no receipt openeth the heart, but a true friend; to whom you may

impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, and

whatsoever lieth upon the heart to oppress it, in a kind of civil

shrift or confession.

It is a strange thing to observe, how high a rate great kings and

monarchs do set upon this fruit of friendship, whereof we speak: so

great, as they purchase it, many times, at the hazard of their own

safety and greatness. For princes, in regard of the distance of

their fortune from that of their subjects and servants, cannot

gather this fruit, except (to make themselves capable thereof) they

raise some persons to be, as it were, companions and almost equals

to themselves, which many times sorteth to inconvenience. The modern

languages give unto such persons the name of favorites, or

privadoes; as if it were matter of grace, or conversation. But the

Roman name attaineth the true use and cause thereof, naming them

participes curarum; for it is that which tieth the knot. And we see

plainly that this hath been done, not by weak and passionate princes

only, but by the wisest and most politic that ever reigned; who have

oftentimes joined to themselves some of their servants; whom both

themselves have called friends, and allowed other likewise to call

them in the same manner; using the word which is received between

private men.

L. Sylla, when he commanded Rome, raised Pompey (after surnamed

the Great) to that height, that Pompey vaunted himself for Sylla's

overmatch. For when he had carried the consulship for a friend of his,

against the pursuit of Sylla, and that Sylla did a little resent

thereat, and began to speak great, Pompey turned upon him again, and

in effect bade him be quiet; for that more men adored the sun

rising, than the sun setting. With Julius Caesar, Decimus Brutus had

obtained that interest, as he set him down, in his testament, for heir

in remainder, after his nephew. And this was the man that had power

with him, to draw him forth to his death. For when Caesar would have

discharged the senate, in regard of some ill presages, and specially a

dream of Calpurnia; this man lifted him gently by the arm out of his

chair, telling him he hoped he would not dismiss the senate, till

his wife had dreamt a better dream. And it seemeth his favor was so

great, as Antonius, in a letter which is recited verbatim in one of

Cicero's Philippics, calleth him venefica, witch; as if he had

enchanted Caesar. Augustus raised Agrippa (though of mean birth) to

that height, as when he consulted with Maecenas, about the marriage of

his daughter Julia, Maecenas took the liberty to tell him, that he

must either marry his daughter to Agrippa, or take away his life;

there was no third war, he had made him so great. With Tiberius

Caesar, Sejanus had ascended to that height, as they two were

termed, and reckoned, as a pair of friends. Tiberius in a letter to

him saith, Haec pro amicitia nostra non occultavi; and the whole

senate dedicated an altar to Friendship, as to a goddess, in respect

of the great dearness of friendship, between them two. The like, or

more, was between Septimius Severus and Plautianus. For he forced

his eldest son to marry the daughter of Plautianus; and would often

maintain Plautianus, in doing affronts to his son; and did write

also in a letter to the senate, by these words: I love the man so

well, as I wish he may over-live me. Now if these princes had been

as a Trajan, or a Marcus Aurelius, a man might have thought that

this had proceeded of an abundant goodness of nature; but being men so

wise, of such strength and severity of mind, and so extreme lovers

of themselves, as all these were, it proveth most plainly that they

found their own felicity (though as great as ever happened to mortal

men) but as an half piece, except they mought have a friend, to make

it entire; and yet, which is more, they were princes that had wives,

sons, nephews; and yet all these could not supply the comfort of

friendship.

It is not to be forgotten, what Comineus observeth of his first

master, Duke Charles the Hardy, namely, that he would communicate

his secrets with none; and least of all, those secrets which

troubled him most. Whereupon he goeth on, and saith that towards his

latter time, that closeness did impair, and a little perish his

understanding. Surely Comineus mought have made the same judgment

also, if it had pleased him, of his second master, Lewis the Eleventh,

whose closeness was indeed his tormentor. The parable of Pythagoras is

dark, but true; Cor ne edito; Eat not the heart. Certainly if a man

would give it a hard phrase, those that want friends, to open

themselves unto are cannibals of their own hearts. But one thing is

most admirable (wherewith I will conclude this first fruit of

friendship), which is, that this communicating of a man's self to

his friend, works two contrary effects; for it redoubleth joys, and

cutteth griefs in halves. For there is no man, that imparteth his joys

to his friend, but he joyeth the more; and no man that imparteth his

griefs to his friend, but he grieveth the less. So that it is in

truth, of operation upon a man's mind, of like virtue as the

alchemists use to attribute to their stone, for man's body; that it

worketh all contrary effects, but still to the good and benefit of

nature. But yet without praying in aid of alchemists, there is a

manifest image of this, in the ordinary course of nature. For in

bodies, union strengtheneth and cherisheth any natural action; and

on the other side, weakeneth and dulleth any violent impression: and

even so it is of minds.

The second fruit of friendship, is healthful and sovereign for the

understanding, as the first is for the affections. For friendship

maketh indeed a fair day in the affections, from storm and tempests;

but it maketh daylight in the understanding, out of darkness, and

confusion of thoughts. Neither is this to be understood only of

faithful counsel, which a man receiveth from his friend; but before

you come to that, certain it is, that whosoever hath his mind

fraught with many thoughts, his wits and understanding do clarify

and break up, in the communicating and discoursing with another; he

tosseth his thoughts more easily; he marshalleth them more orderly, he

seeth how they look when they are turned into words: finally, he

waxeth wiser than himself; and that more by an hour's discourse,

than by a day's meditation. It was well said by Themistocles, to the

king of Persia, That speech was like cloth of Arras, opened and put

abroad; whereby the imagery doth appear in figure; whereas in thoughts

they lie but as in packs. Neither is this second fruit of

friendship, in opening the understanding, restrained only to such

friends as are able to give a man counsel; (they indeed are best;) but

even without that, a man learneth of himself, and bringeth his own

thoughts to light, and whetteth his wits as against a stone, which

itself cuts not. In a word, a man were better relate himself to a

statua, or picture, than to suffer his thoughts to pass in smother.

Add now, to make this second fruit of friendship complete, that

other point, which lieth more open, and falleth within vulgar

observation; which is faithful counsel from a friend. Heraclitus saith

well in one of his enigmas, Dry light is ever the best. And certain it

is, that the light that a man receiveth by counsel from another, is

drier and purer, than that which cometh from his own understanding and

judgment; which is ever infused, and drenched, in his affections and

customs. So as there is as much difference between the counsel, that a

friend giveth, and that a man giveth himself, as there is between

the counsel of a friend, and of a flatterer. For there is no such

flatterer as is a man's self; and there is no such remedy against

flattery of a man's self, as the liberty of a friend. Counsel is of

two sorts: the one concerning manners, the other concerning

business. For the first, the best preservative to keep the mind in

health, is the faithful admonition of a friend. The calling of a man's

self to a strict account, is a medicine, sometime too piercing and

corrosive. Reading good books of morality, is a little flat and

dead. Observing our faults in others, is sometimes improper for our

case. But the best receipt (best, I say, to work, and best to take) is

the admonition of a friend. It is a strange thing to behold, what

gross errors and extreme absurdities many (especially of the greater

sort) do commit, for want of a friend to tell them of them; to the

great damage both of their fame and fortune: for, as St. James

saith, they are as men that look sometimes into a glass, and presently

forget their own shape and favor. As for business, a man may think, if

he will, that two eyes see no more than one; or that a gamester

seeth always more than a looker-on; or that a man in anger, is as wise

as he that hath said over the four and twenty letters; or that a

musket may be shot off as well upon the arm, as upon a rest; and

such other fond and high imaginations, to think himself all in all.

But when all is done, the help of good counsel is that which setteth

business straight. And if any man think that he will take counsel, but

it shall be by pieces; asking counsel in one business, of one man, and

in another business, of another man; it is well (that is to say,

better, perhaps, than if he asked none at all); but he runneth two

dangers: one, that he shall not be faithfully counselled; for it is

a rare thing, except it be from a perfect and entire friend, to have

counsel given, but such as shall be bowed and crooked to some ends,

which he hath, that giveth it. The other, that he shall have counsel

given, hurtful and unsafe (though with good meaning), and mixed partly

of mischief and partly of remedy; even as if you would call a

physician, that is thought good for the cure of the disease you

complain of, but is unacquainted with your body; and therefore may put

you in way for a present cure, but overthroweth your health in some

other kind; and so cure the disease, and kill the patient. But a

friend that is wholly acquainted with a man's estate, will beware,

by furthering any present business, how he dasheth upon other

inconvenience. And therefore rest not upon scattered counsels; they

will rather distract and mislead, than settle and direct.

After these two noble fruits of friendship (peace in the affections,

and support of the judgment), followeth the last fruit; which is

like the pomegranate, full of many kernels; I mean aid, and bearing

a part, in all actions and occasions. Here the best way to represent

to life the manifold use of friendship, is to cast and see how many

things there are, which a man cannot do himself; and then it will

appear, that it was a sparing speech of the ancients, to say, that a

friend is another himself; for that a friend is far more than himself.

Men have their time, and die many times, in desire of some things

which they principally take to heart; the bestowing of a child, the

finishing of a work, or the like. If a man have a true friend, he

may rest almost secure that the care of those things will continue

after him. So that a man hath, as it were, two lives in his desires. A

man hath a body, and that body is confined to a place; but where

friendship is, all offices of life are as it were granted to him,

and his deputy. For he may exercise them by his friend. How many

things are there which a man cannot, with any face or comeliness,

say or do himself? A man can scarce allege his own merits with

modesty, much less extol them; a man cannot sometimes brook to

supplicate or beg; and a number of the like. But all these things

are graceful, in a friend's mouth, which are blushing in a man's

own. So again, a man's person hath many proper relations, which he

cannot put off. A man cannot speak to his son but as a father; to

his wife but as a husband; to his enemy but upon terms: whereas a

friend may speak as the case requires, and not as it sorteth with

the person. But to enumerate these things were endless; I have given

the rule, where a man cannot fitly play his own part; if he have not a

friend, he may quit the stage.

OF EXPENSE

Riches are for spending, and spending for honor and good actions.

Therefore extraordinary expense must be limited by the worth of the

occasion; for voluntary undoing, may be as well for a man's country,

as for the kingdom of heaven. But ordinary expense, ought to be

limited by a man's estate; and governed with such regard, as it be

within his compass; and not subject to deceit and abuse of servants;

and ordered to the best show, that the bills may be less than the

estimation abroad. Certainly, if a man will keep but of even hand, his

ordinary expenses ought to be but to the half of his receipts; and

if he think to wax rich, but to the third part. It is no baseness, for

the greatest to descend and look into their own estate. Some forbear

it, not upon negligence alone, but doubting to bring themselves into

melancholy, in respect they shall find it broken. But wounds cannot be

cured without searching. He that cannot look into his own estate at

all, had need both choose well those whom he employeth, and change

them often; for new are more timorous and less subtle. He that can

look into his estate but seldom, it behooveth him to turn all to

certainties. A man had need, if he be plentiful in some kind of

expense, to be as saving again in some other. As if he be plentiful in

diet, to be saving in apparel; if he be plentiful in the hall, to be

saving in the stable; and the like. For he that is plentiful in

expenses of all kinds, will hardly be preserved from decay. In

clearing of a man's estate, he may as well hurt himself in being too

sudden, as in letting it run on too long. For hasty selling, is

commonly as disadvantageable as interest. Besides, he that clears at

once will relapse; for finding himself out of straits, he will

revert to his custom: but he that cleareth by degrees, induceth a

habit of frugality, and gaineth as well upon his mind, as upon his

estate. Certainly, who hath a state to repair, may not despise small

things; and commonly it is less dishonorable, to abridge petty

charges, than to stoop to petty gettings. A man ought warily to

begin charges which once begun will continue; but in matters that

return not, he may be more magnificent.

OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES

The speech of Themistocles the Athenian, which was haughty and

arrogant, in taking so much to himself, had been a grave and wise

observation and censure, applied at large to others. Desired at a

feast to touch a lute, he said, He could not fiddle, but yet he

could make a small town, a great city. These words (holpen a little

with a metaphor) may express two differing abilities, in those that

deal in business of estate. For if a true survey be taken of

counsellors and statesmen, there may be found (though rarely) those

which can make a small state great, and yet cannot fiddle; as on the

other side, there will be found a great many, that can fiddle very

cunningly, but yet are so far from being able to make a small state

great, as their gift lieth the other way; to bring a great and

flourishing estate, to ruin and decay. And certainly whose

degenerate arts and shifts, whereby many counsellors and governors

gain both favor with their masters, and estimation with the vulgar,

deserve no better name than fiddling; being things rather pleasing for

the time, and graceful to themselves only, than tending to the weal

and advancement of the state which they serve. There are also (no

doubt) counsellors and governors which may be held sufficient

(negotiis pares), able to manage affairs, and to keep them from

precipices and manifest inconveniences; which nevertheless are far

from the ability to raise and amplify an estate in power, means, and

fortune. But be the workmen what they may be, let us speak of the

work; that is, the true greatness of kingdoms and estates, and the

means thereof. An argument fit for great and mighty princes to have in

their hand; to the end that neither by over-measuring their forces,

they leese themselves in vain enterprises; nor on the other side, by

undervaluing them, they descend to fearful and pusillanimous counsels.

The greatness of an estate, in bulk and territory, doth fall under

measure; and the greatness of finances and revenue, doth fall under

computation. The population may appear by musters; and the number

and greatness of cities and towns by cards and maps. But yet there

is not any thing amongst civil affairs more subject to error, than the

left valuation and true judgment concerning the power and forces of

an estate. The kingdom of heaven is compared, not to any great

kernel or nut, but to a grain of mustard-seed: which is one of the

least grains, but hath in it a property and spirit hastily to get up

and spread. So are there states, great in territory, and yet not apt

to enlarge or command; and some that have but a small dimension of

stem, and yet apt to be the foundations of great monarchies.

Walled towns, stored arsenals and armoiies, goodly races of horse,

chariots of war, elephants, ordnance, artillery, and the like; all

this is but a sheep in a lion's skin, except the breed and disposition

of the people, be stout and warlike. Nay, number (itself) in armies

importeth not much, where the people is of weak courage; for (as

Virgil saith) It never troubles a wolf, how many the sheep be. The

army of the Persians, in the plains of Arbela, was such a vast sea

of people, as it did somewhat astonish the commanders in Alexander's

army; who came to him therefore, and wished him to set upon them by

night; and he answered, He would not pilfer the victory. And the

defeat was easy. When Tigranes the Armenian, being encamped upon a

hill with four hundred thousand men, discovered the army of the

Romans, being not above fourteen thousand, marching towards him, he

made himself merry with it, and said, Yonder men are too many for an

embassage, and too few for a fight. But before the sun set, he found

them enow to give him the chase with infinite slaughter. Many are

the examples of the great odds, between number and courage; so that

a man may truly make a judgment, that the principal point of greatness

in any state, is to have a race of military men. Neither is money

the sinews of war (as it is trivially said), where the sinews of men's

arms, in base and effeminate people, are failing. For Solon said

well to Croesus (when in ostentation he showed him his gold), Sir,

if any other come, that hath better iron, than you, he will be

master of all this gold. Therefore let any prince or state think

solely of his forces, except his militia of natives be of good and

valiant soldiers. And let princes, on the other side, that have

subjects of martial disposition, know their own strength; unless

they be otherwise wanting unto themselves. As for mercenary forces

(which is the help in this case), all examples show, that whatsoever

estate or prince doth rest upon them, he may spread his feathers for a

time, but he will mew them soon after.

The blessing of Judah and Issachar will never meet; that the same

people, or nation, should be both the lion's whelp and the ass between

burthens; neither will it be, that a people overlaid with taxes,

should ever become valiant and martial. It is true that taxes levied

by consent of the estate, do abate men's courage less: as it hath been

seen notably, in the excises of the Low Countries; and, in some

degree, in the subsidies of England. For you must note, that we

speak now of the heart, and not of the purse. So that although the

same tribute and tax, laid by consent or by imposing, be all one to

the purse, yet it works diversely upon the courage. So that you may

conclude, that no people overcharged with tribute, is fit for empire.

Let states that aim at greatness, take heed how their nobility and

gentlemen do multiply too fast. For that maketh the common subject,

grow to be a peasant and base swain, driven out of heart, and in

effect but the gentleman's laborer. Even as you may see in coppice

woods; if you leave your staddles too thick, you shall never have

clean underwood, but shrubs and bushes. So in countries, if the

gentlemen be too many, commons will be base; and you will bring it

to that, that not the hundred poll, will be fit for an helmet;

especially as to the infantry, which is the nerve of an army; and so

there will be great population, and little strength. This which I

speak of, hath been nowhere better seen, than by comparing of

England and France; whereof England, though far less in territory

and population, hath been (nevertheless) an overmatch; in regard the

middle people of England make good soldiers, which the peasants of

France do not. And herein the device of king Henry the Seventh

(whereof I have spoken largely in the History of his Life) was

profound and admirable; in making farms and houses of husbandry of a

standard; that is, maintained with such a proportion of land unto

them, as may breed a subject to live in convenient plenty and no

servile condition; and to keep the plough in the hands of the

owners, and not mere hirelings. And thus indeed you shall attain to

Virgil's character which he gives to ancient Italy:

Terra potens armis atque ubere glebae.

Neither is that state (which, for any thing I know, is almost peculiar

to England, and hardly to be found anywhere else, except it be perhaps

in Poland) to be passed over; I mean the state of free servants, and

attendants upon noblemen and gentlemen; which are no ways inferior

unto the yeomanry for arms. And therefore out of all questions, the

splendor and magnificence, and great retinues and hospitality, of

noblemen and gentlemen, received into custom, doth much conduce unto

martial greatness. Whereas, contrariwise, the close and reserved

living of noblemen and gentlemen, causeth a penury of military forces.

By all means it is to be procured, that the trunk of

Nebuchadnezzar's tree of monarchy, be great enough to bear the

branches and the boughs; that is, that the natural subjects of the

crown or state, bear a sufficient proportion to the stranger subjects,

that they govern. Therefore all states that are liberal of

naturalization towards strangers, are fit for empire. For to think

that an handful of people can, with the greatest courage and policy in

the world, embrace too large extent of dominion, it may hold for a

time, but it will fail suddenly. The Spartans were a nice people in

point of naturalization; whereby, while they kept their compass,

they stood firm; but when they did spread, and their boughs were

becomen too great for their stem, they became a windfall, upon the

sudden. Never any state was in this point so open to receive strangers

into their body, as were the Romans. Therefore it sorted with them

accordingly; for they grew to the greatest monarchy. Their manner

was to grant naturalization (which they called jus civitatis), and

to grant it in the highest degree; that is, not only jus commercii,

jus connubii, jus haereditatis; but also jus suffragii, and jus

honorum. And this not to singular persons alone, but likewise to whole

families; yea to cities, and sometimes to nations. Add to this their

custom of plantation of colonies; whereby the Roman plant was

removed into the soil of other nations. And putting both constitutions

together, you will say that it was not the Romans that spread upon the

world, but it was the world that spread upon the Romans; and that

was the sure way of greatness. I have marvelled, sometimes, at

Spain, how they clasp and contain so large dominions, with so few

natural Spaniards; but sure the whole compass of Spain, is a very

great body of a tree; far above Rome and Sparta at the first. And

besides, though they have not had that usage, to naturalize liberally,

yet they have that which is next to it; that is, to employ, almost

indifferently, all nations in their militia of ordinary soldiers; yea,

and sometimes in their highest commands. Nay, it seemeth at this

instant they are sensible, of this want of natives; as by the

Pragmatical Sanction, now published, appeareth.

It is certain that sedentary, and within-door arts, and delicate

manufactures (that require rather the finger than the arm), have, in

their nature, a contrariety to a military disposition. And

generally, all warlike people are a little idle, and love danger

better than travail. Neither must they be too much broken of it, if

they shall be preserved in vigor. Therefore it was great advantage, in

the ancient states of Sparta, Athens, Rome, and others, that they

had the use of slaves, which commonly did rid those manufactures.

But that is abolished in greatest part, by the Christian law. That

which cometh nearest to it, is to leave those arts chiefly to

strangers (which, for that purpose, are the more easily to be

received), and to contain the principal bulk of the vulgar natives,

within those three kinds,-tillers of the ground; free servants; and

handicraftsmen of strong and manly arts, as smiths, masons,

carpenters, etc.; not reckoning professed soldiers.

But above all, for empire and greatness, it importeth most, that a

nation do profess arms, as their principal honor, study, and

occupation. For the things which we formerly have spoken of, are but

habilitations towards arms; and what is habilitation without intention

and act? Romulus, after his death (as they report or feign), sent a

present to the Romans, that above all, they should intend arms; and

then they should prove the greatest empire of the world. The fabric of

the state of Sparta was wholly (though not wisely) framed and

composed, to that scope and end. The Persians and Macedonians had it

for a flash. The Gauls, Germans, Goths, Saxons, Normans, and others,

had it for a time. The Turks have it at this day, though in great

declination. Of Christian Europe, they that have it are, in effect,

only the Spaniards. But it is so plain, that every man profiteth in

that, he most intendeth, that it needeth not to be stood upon. It is

enough to point at it; that no nation which doth not directly

profess arms, may look to have greatness fall into their mouths. And

on the other side, it is a most certain oracle of time, that those

states that continue long in that profession (as the Romans and

Turks principally have done) do wonders. And those that have professed

arms but for an age, have, notwithstanding, commonly attained that

greatness, in that age, which maintained them long after, when their

profession and exercise of arms hath grown to decay.

Incident to this point is, for a state to have those laws or

customs, which may reach forth unto them just occasions (as may be

pretended) of war. For there is that justice, imprinted in the

nature of men, that they enter not upon wars (whereof so many

calamities do ensue) but upon some, at the least specious, grounds and

quarrels. The Turk hath at hand, for cause of war, the propagation

of his law or sect; a quarrel that he may always command. The

Romans, though they esteemed the extending the limits of their empire,

to be great honor to their generals, when it was done, yet they

never rested upon that alone, to begin a war. First, therefore, let

nations that pretend to greatness have this; that they be sensible

of wrongs, either upon borderers, merchants, or politic ministers; and

that they sit not too long upon a provocation. Secondly, let them be

prest, and ready to give aids and succors, to their confederates; as

it ever was with the Romans; insomuch, as if the confederate had

leagues defensive, with divers other states, and, upon invasion

offered, did implore their aids severally, yet the Romans would ever

be the foremost, and leave it to none other to have the honor. As

for the wars which were anciently made, on the behalf of a kind of

party, or tacit conformity of estate, I do not see how they may be

well justified: as when the Romans made a war, for the liberty of

Grecia; or when the Lacedaemonians and Athenians, made wars to set

up or pull down democracies and oligarchies; or when wars were made by

foreigners, under the pretence of justice or protection, to deliver

the subjects of others, from tyranny and oppression; and the like. Let

it suffice, that no estate expect to be great, that is not awake

upon any just occasion of arming.

No body can be healthful without exercise, neither natural body

nor politic; and certainly to a kingdom or estate, a just and

honorable war, is the true exercise. A civil war, indeed, is like

the heat of a fever; but a foreign war is like the heat of exercise,

and serveth to keep the body in health; for in a slothful peace,

both courages will effeminate, and manners corrupt. But howsoever it

be for happiness, without all question, for greatness, it maketh to be

still for the most part in arms; and the strength of a veteran army

(though it be a chargeable business) always on foot, is that which

commonly giveth the law, or at least the reputation, amongst all

neighbor states; as may well be seen in Spain, which hath had, in

one part or other, a veteran army almost continually, now by the space

of six score years.

To be master of the sea, is an abridgment of a monarchy. Cicero,

writing to Atticus of Pompey his preparation against Caesar, saith,

Consilium Pompeii plane Themistocleum est; putat enim, qui mari

potitur, eum rerum potiri. And, without doubt, Pompey had tired out

Caesar, if upon vain confidence, he had not left that way. We see

the great effects of battles by sea. The battle of Actium, decided the

empire of the world. The battle of Lepanto, arrested the greatness

of the Turk. There be many examples, where sea-fights have been

final to the war; but this is when princes or states have set up their

rest, upon the battles. But thus much is certain, that he that

commands the seal is at great liberty, and may take as much, and as

little, of the war as he will. Whereas those that be strongest by

land, are many times nevertheless in great straits. Surely, at this

day, with us of Europe, the vantage of strength at sea (which is one

of the principal dowries of this kingdom of Great Britain) is great;

both because most of the kingdoms of Europe, are not merely inland,

but girt with the sea most part of their compass; and because the

wealth of both Indies seems in great part, but an accessory to the

command of the seas.

The wars of latter ages seem to be made in the dark, in respect of

the glory, and honor, which reflected upon men from the wars, in

ancient time. There be now, for martial encouragement, some degrees

and orders of chivalry; which nevertheless are conferred

promiscuously, upon soldiers and no soldiers; and some remembrance

perhaps, upon the scutcheon; and some hospitals for maimed soldiers;

and such like things. But in ancient times, the trophies erected

upon the place of the victory; the funeral laudatives and monuments

for those that died in the wars; the crowns and garlands personal; the

style of emperor, which the great kings of the world after borrowed;

the triumphs of the generals, upon their return; the great donatives

and largesses, upon the disbanding of the armies; were things able

to inflame all men's courages. But above all, that of the triumph,

amongst the Romans, was not pageants or gaudery, but one of the wisest

and noblest institutions, that ever was. For it contained three

things: honor to the general; riches to the treasury out of the

spoils; and donatives to the army. But that honor, perhaps were not

fit for monarchies; except it be in the person of the monarch himself,

or his sons; as it came to pass in the times of the Roman emperors,

who did impropriate the actual triumphs to themselves, and their sons,

for such wars as they did achieve in person; and left only, for wars

achieved by subjects, some triumphal garments and ensigns to the

general.

To conclude: no man can by care taking (as the Scripture saith)

add a cubit to his stature, in this little model of a man's body;

but in the great frame of kingdoms and commonwealths, it is in the

power of princes or estates, to add amplitude and greatness to their

kingdoms; for by introducing such ordinances, constitutions, and

customs, as we have now touched, they may sow greatness to their

posterity and succession. But these things are commonly not

observed, but left to take their chance.

OF REGIMENT OF HEALTH

There is a wisdom in this; beyond the rules of physic: a man's own

observation, what he finds good of, and what he finds hurt of, is

the best physic to preserve health. But it is a safer conclusion to

say, This agreeth not well with me, therefore, I will not continue it;

than this, I find no offence of this, therefore I may use it. For

strength of nature in youth, passeth over many excesses, which are

owing a man till his age. Discern of the coming on of years, and think

not to do the same things still; for age will not be defied. Beware of

sudden change, in any great point of diet, and, if necessity inforce

it, fit the rest to it. For it is a secret both in nature and state,

that it is safer to change many things, than one. Examine thy

customs of diet, sleep, exercise, apparel, and the like; and try, in

any thing thou shalt judge hurtful, to discontinue it, by little and

little; but so, as if thou dost find any inconvenience by the

change, thou come back to it again: for it is hard to distinguish that

which is generally held good and wholesome, from that which is good

particularly, and fit for thine own body. To be free-minded and

cheerfully disposed, at hours of meat, and of sleep, and of

exercise, is one of the best precepts of long lasting. As for the

passions, and studies of the mind; avoid envy, anxious fears; anger

fretting inwards; subtle and knotty inquisitions; joys and

exhilarations in excess; sadness not communicated. Entertain hopes;

mirth rather than joy; variety of delights, rather than surfeit of

them; wonder and admiration, and therefore novelties; studies that

fill the mind with splendid and illustrious objects, as histories,

fables, and contemplations of nature. If you fly physic in health

altogether, it will be too strange for your body, when you shall

need it. If you make it too familiar, it will work no extraordinary

effect, when sickness cometh. I commend rather some diet for certain

seasons, than frequent use of physic, except it be grown into a

custom. For those diets alter the body more, and trouble it less.

Despise no new accident in your body, but ask opinion of it. In

sickness, respect health principally; and in health, action. For those

that put their bodies to endure in health, may in most sicknesses,

which are not very sharp, be cured only with diet, and tendering.

Celsus could never have spoken it as a physician, had he not been a

wise man withal, when he giveth it for one of the great precepts of

health and lasting, that a man do vary, and interchange contraries,

but with an inclination to the more benign extreme: use fasting and

full eating, but rather full eating; watching and sleep, but rather

sleep; sitting and exercise, but rather exercise; and the like. So

shall nature be cherished, and yet taught masteries. Physicians are,

some of them, so pleasing and conformable to the humor of the patient,

as they press not the true cure of the disease; and some other are

so regular, in proceeding according to art for the disease, as they

respect not sufficiently the condition of the patient. Take one of a

middle temper; or if it may not be found in one man, combine two of

either sort; and forget not to call as well, the best acquainted

with your body, as the best reputed of for his faculty.

OF SUSPICION

Suspicions amongst thoughts, are like bats amongst birds, they

ever fly by twilight. Certainly they are to be repressed, or at

least well guarded: for they cloud the mind; they leese friends; and

they check with business, whereby business cannot go on currently

and constantly. They dispose kings to tyranny, husbands to jealousy,

wise men to irresolution and melancholy. They are defects, not in

the heart, but in the brain; for they take place in the stoutest

natures; as in the example of Henry the Seventh of England. There

was not a more suspicious man, nor a more stout. And in such a

composition they do small hurt. For commonly they are not admitted,

but with examination, whether they be likely or no. But in fearful

natures they gain ground too fast. There is nothing makes a man

suspect much, more than to know little; and therefore men should

remedy suspicion, by procuring to know more, and not to keep their

suspicions in smother. What would men have? Do they think, those

they employ and deal with, are saints? Do they not think, they will

have their own ends, and be truer to themselves, than to them?

Therefore there is no better way, to moderate suspicions, than to

account upon such suspicions as true, and yet to bridle them as false.

For so far a man ought to make use of suspicions, as to provide, as if

that should be true, that he suspects, yet it may do him no hurt.

Suspicions that the mind of itself gathers, are but buzzes; but

suspicions that are artificially nourished, and put into men's

heads, by the tales and whisperings of others, have stings. Certainly,

the best mean, to clear the way in this same wood of suspicions, is

frankly to communicate them with the party, that he suspects; for

thereby he shall be sure to know more of the truth of them, than he

did before; and withal shall make that party more circumspect, not

to give further cause of suspicion. But this would not be done to

men of base natures; for they, if they find themselves once suspected,

will never be true. The Italian says, Sospetto licentia fede; as if

suspicion, did give a passport to faith; but it ought, rather, to

kindle it to discharge itself.

OF DISCOURSE

Some in their discourse, desire rather commendation of wit, in being

able to hold all arguments, than of judgment, in discerning what is

true; as if it were a praise, to know what might be said, and not,

what should be thought. Some have certain common places, and themes,

wherein they are good, and want variety; which kind of poverty is

for the most part tedious, and when it is once perceived,

ridiculous. The honorablest part of talk, is to give the occasion; and

again to moderate, and pass to somewhat else; for then a man leads the

dance. It is good, in discourse and speech of conversation, to vary

and intermingle speech of the present occasion, with arguments,

tales with reasons, asking of questions, with telling of opinions, and

jest with earnest: for it is a dull thing to tire, and, as we say now,

to jade, any thing too far. As for jest, there be certain things,

which ought to be privileged from it; namely, religion, matters of

state, great persons, any man's present business of importance, and

any case that deserveth pity. Yet there be some, that think their wits

have been asleep, except they dart out somewhat that is piquant, and

to the quick. That is a vein which would be bridled:

Parce, puer, stimulis, et fortius utere loris.

And generally, men ought to find the difference, between saltness

and bitterness. Certainly, he that hath a satirical vein, as he maketh

others afraid of his wit, so he had need be afraid of others'

memory. He that questioneth much, shall learn much, and content

much; but especially, if he apply his questions to the skill of the

persons whom he asketh; for he shall give them occasion, to please

themselves in speaking, and himself shall continually gather

knowledge. But let his questions not be troublesome; for that is fit

for a poser. And let him be sure to leave other men, their turns to

speak. Nay, if there be any, that would reign and take up all the

time, let him find means to take them off, and to bring others on;

as musicians use to do, with those that dance too long galliards. If

you dissemble, sometimes, your knowledge of that you are thought to

know, you shall be thought, another time, to know that you know not.

Speech of a man's self ought to be seldom, and well chosen. I knew

one, was wont to say in scorn, He must needs be a wise man, he

speaks so much of himself: and there is but one case, wherein a man

may commend himself with good grace; and that is in commending

virtue in another; especially if it be such a virtue, whereunto

himself pretendeth. Speech of touch towards others, should be

sparingly used; for discourse ought to be as a field, without coming

home to any man. I knew two noblemen, of the west part of England,

whereof the one was given to scoff, but kept ever royal cheer in his

house; the other would ask, of those that had been at the other's

table, Tell truly, was there never a flout or dry blow given? To which

the guest would answer, Such and such a thing passed. The lord would

say, I thought, he would mar a good dinner. Discretion of speech, is

more than eloquence; and to speak agreeably to him, with whom we deal,

is more than to speak in good words, or in good order. A good

continued speech, without a good speech of interlocution, shows

slowness: and a good reply or second speech, without a good settled

speech, showeth shallowness and weakness. As we see in beasts, that

those that are weakest in the course, are yet nimblest in the turn; as

it is betwixt the greyhound and the hare. To use too many

circumstances, ere one come to the matter, is wearisome; to use none

at all, is blunt.

OF PLANTATIONS

Plantations are amongst ancient, primitive, and heroical works. When

the world was young, it begat more children; but now it is old, it

begets fewer: for I may justly account new plantations, to be the

children of former kingdoms. I like a plantation in a pure soil;

that is, where people are not displanted, to the end, to plant in

others. For else it is rather an extirpation, than a plantation.

Planting of countries, is like planting of woods; for you must make

account to leese almost twenty years'profit, and expect your

recompense in the end. For the principal thing, that hath been the

destruction of most plantations, hath been the base and hasty

drawing of profit, in the first years. It is true, speedy profit is

not to be neglected, as far as may stand with the good of the

plantation, but no further. It is a shameful and unblessed thing, to

take the scum of people, and wicked condemned men, to be the people

with whom you plant; and not only so, but it spoileth the

plantation; for they will ever live like rogues, and not fall to work,

but be lazy, and do mischief, and spend victuals, and be quickly

weary, and then certify over to their country, to the discredit of the

plantation. The people wherewith you plant ought to be gardeners,

ploughmen, laborers, smiths, carpenters, joiners, fishermen,

fowlers, with some few apothecaries, surgeons, cooks, and bakers. In a

country of plantation, first look about, what kind of victual the

country yields of itself to hand; as chestnuts, walnuts, pineapples,

olives, dates, plums, cherries, wild honey, and the like; and make use

of them. Then consider what victual or esculent things there are,

which grow speedily, and within the year; as parsnips, carrots,

turnips, onions, radish, artichokes of Hierusalem, maize, and the

like. For wheat, barley, and oats, they ask too much labor; but with

pease and beans you may begin, both because they ask less labor, and

because they serve for meat, as well as for bread. And of rice,

likewise cometh a great increase, and it is a kind of meat. Above all,

there ought to be brought store of biscuit, oat-meal, flour, meal, and

the like, in the beginning, till bread may be had. For beasts, or

birds, take chiefly such as are least subject to diseases, and

multiply fastest; as swine, goats, cocks, hens, turkeys, geese,

house-doves, and the like. The victual in plantations, ought to be

expended almost as in a besieged town; that is, with certain

allowance. And let the main part of the ground, employed to gardens or

corn, be to a common stock; and to be laid in, and stored up, and then

delivered out in proportion; besides some spots of ground, that any

particular person will manure for his own private. Consider likewise

what commodities, the soil where the plantation is, doth naturally

yield, that they may some way help to defray the charge of the

plantation (so it be not, as was said, to the untimely prejudice of

the main business), as it hath fared with tobacco in Virginia. Wood

commonly aboundeth but too much; and therefore timber is fit to be

one. If there be iron ore, and streams whereupon to set the mills,

iron is a brave commodity where wood aboundeth. Making of bay-salt, if

the climate be proper for it, would be put in experience. Growing silk

likewise, if any be, is a likely commodity. Pitch and tar, where store

of firs and pines are, will not fail. So drugs and sweet woods,

where they are, cannot but yield great profit. Soap-ashes likewise,

and other things that may be thought of. But moil not too much under

ground; for the hope of mines is very uncertain, and useth to make the

planters lazy, in other things. For government, let it be in the hands

of one, assisted with some counsel; and let them have commission to

exercise martial laws, with some limitation. And above all, let men

make that profit, of being in the wilderness, as they have God always,

and his service, before their eyes. Let not the government of the

plantation, depend upon too many counsellors, and undertakers, in

the country that planteth, but upon a temperate number; and let

those be rather noblemen and gentlemen, than merchants; for they

look ever to the present gain. Let there be freedom from custom,

till the plantation be of strength; and not only freedom from

custom, but freedom to carry their commodities, where they may make

their best of them, except there be some special cause of caution.

Cram not in people, by sending too fast company after company; but

rather harken how they waste, and send supplies proportionably; but

so, as the number may live well in the plantation, and not by

surcharge be in penury. It hath been a great endangering to the health

of some plantations, that they have built along the sea and rivers, in

marish and unwholesome grounds. Therefore, though you begin there,

to avoid carriage and like discommodities, yet build still rather

upwards from the streams, than along. It concerneth likewise the

health of the plantation, that they have good store of salt with them,

that they may use it in their victuals, when it shall be necessary. If

you plant where savages are, do not only entertain them, with

trifles and gingles, but use them justly and graciously, with

sufficient guard nevertheless; and do not win their favor, by

helping them to invade their enemies, but for their defence it is

not amiss; and send oft of them, over to the country that plants, that

they may see a better condition than their own, and commend it when

they return. When the plantation grows to strength, then it is time to

plant with women, as well as with men; that the plantation may

spread into generations, and not be ever pieced from without. It is

the sinfullest thing in the world, to forsake or destitute a

plantation once in forwardness; for besides the dishonor, it is the

guiltiness of blood of many commiserable persons.

OF RICHES

I cannot call riches better than the baggage of virtue. The Roman

word is better, impedimenta. For as the baggage is to an army, so is

riches to virtue. It cannot be spared, nor left behind, but it

hindereth the march; yea, and the care of it, sometimes loseth or

disturbeth the victory. Of great riches there is no real use, except

it be in the distribution; the rest is but conceit. So saith

Solomon, Where much is, there are many consume it; and what hath the

owner, but the sight of it with his eyes? The personal fruition in any

man, cannot reach to feel great riches: there is a custody of them; or

a power of dole, and donative of them; or a fame of them; but no solid

use to the owner. Do you not see what feigned prices, are set upon

little stones and rarities? and what works of ostentation are

undertaken, because there might seem to be some use of great riches?

But then you will say, they may be of use, to buy men out of dangers

or troubles. As Solomon saith, Riches are as a strong hold, in the

imagination of the rich man. But this is excellently expressed, that

it is in imagination, and not always in fact. For certainly great

riches, have sold more men, than they have bought out. Seek not

proud riches, but such as thou mayest get justly, use soberly,

distribute cheerfully, and leave contentedly. Yet have no abstract nor

friarly contempt of them. But distinguish, as Cicero saith well of

Rabirius Posthumus, In studio rei amplificandae apparebat, non

avaritiae praedam, sed instrumentum bonitati quaeri. Harken also to

Solomon, and beware of hasty gathering of riches; Qui festinat ad

divitias, non erit insons. The poets feign, that when Plutus (which is

Riches) is sent from Jupiter, he limps and goes slowly; but when he is

sent from Pluto, he runs, and is swift of foot. Meaning that riches

gotten by good means, and just labor, pace slowly; but when they

come by the death of others (as by the course of inheritance,

testaments, and the like), they come tumbling upon a man. But it

mought be applied likewise to Pluto, taking him for the devil. For

when riches come from the devil (as by fraud and oppression, and

unjust means), they come upon speed. The ways to enrich are many,

and most of them foul. Parsimony is one of the best, and yet is not

innocent; for it withholdeth men from works of liberality and charity.

The improvement of the ground, is the most natural obtaining of

riches; for it is our great mother's blessing, the earth's; but it

is slow. And yet where men of great wealth do stoop to husbandry, it

multiplieth riches exceedingly. I knew a nobleman in England, that had

the greatest audits of any man in my time; a great grazier, a great

sheep-master, a great timber man, a great collier, a great

corn-master, a great lead-man, and so of iron, and a number of the

like points of husbandry. So as the earth seemed a sea to him, in

respect of the perpetual importation. It was truly observed by one,

that himself came very hardly, to a little riches, and very easily, to

great riches. For when a man's stock is come to that, that he can

expect the prime of markets, and overcome those bargains, which for

their greatness are few men's money, and be partner in the

industries of younger men, he cannot but increase mainly. The gains of

ordinary trades and vocations are honest; and furthered by two

things chiefly: by diligence, and by a good name, for good and fair

dealing. But the gains of bargains, are of a more doubtful nature;

when men shall wait upon others' necessity, broke by servants and

instruments to draw them on, put off others cunningly, that would be

better chapmen, and the like practices, which are crafty and naught.

As for the chopping of bargains, when a man buys not to hold but to

sell over again, that commonly grindeth double, both upon the

seller, and upon the buyer. Sharings do greatly enrich, if the hands

be well chosen, that are trusted. Usury is the certainest means of

gain, though one of the worst; as that whereby a man doth eat his

bread, in sudore vultus alieni; and besides, doth plough upon Sundays.

But yet certain though it be, it hath flaws; for that the scriveners

and brokers do value unsound men, to serve their own turn. The fortune

in being the first, in an invention or in a privilege, doth cause

sometimes a wonderful overgrowth in riches; as it was with the with

the first sugar man, in the Canaries. Therefore if a man can play

the true logician, to have as well judgment, as invention, he may do

great matters; especially if the times be fit. He that resteth upon

gains certain, shall hardly grow to great riches; and he that puts all

upon adventures, doth oftentimes break and come to poverty: it is

good, therefore, to guard adventures with certainties, that may uphold

losses. Monopolies, and coemption of wares for re-sale, where they are

not restrained, are great means to enrich; especially if the party

have intelligence, what things are like to come into request, and so

store himself beforehand. Riches gotten by service, though it be of

the best rise, yet when they are gotten by flattery, feeding humors,

and other servile conditions, they may be placed amongst the worst. As

for fishing for testaments and executorships (as Tacitus saith of

Seneca, testamenta et orbos tamquam indagine capi), it is yet worse;

by how much men submit themselves to meaner persons, than in

service. Believe not much, them that seem to despise riches for they

despise them, that despair of them; and none worse, when they come

to them. Be not penny-wise; riches have wings, and sometimes they

fly away of themselves, sometimes they must be set flying, to bring in

more. Men leave their riches, either to their kindred, or to the

public; and moderate portions, prosper best in both. A great state

left to an heir, is as a lure to all the birds of prey round about, to

seize on him, if he be not the better stablished in years and

judgment. Likewise glorious gifts and foundations, are like sacrifices

without salt; and but the painted sepulchres of alms, which soon

will putrefy, and corrupt inwardly. Therefore measure not thine

advancements, by quantity, but frame them by measure: and defer not

charities till death; for, certainly, if a man weigh it rightly, he

that doth so, is rather liberal of another man's, than of his own.

OF PROPHECIES

I mean not to speak of divine prophecies; nor of heathen oracles;

nor of natural predictions; but only of prophecies that have been of

certain memory, and from hidden causes. Saith the Pythonissa to

Saul, To-morrow thou and thy son shall be with me. Homer hath these

verses:

At domus Aeneae cunctis dominabitur oris,

Et nati natorum, et qui nascentur ab illis.

A prophecy, as it seems, of the Roman empire. Seneca the tragedian

hath these verses:

--Venient annis

Saecula seris, quibus Oceanus

Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens

Pateat Tellus, Tiphysque novos

Detegat orbes; nec sit terris

Ultima Thule:

a prophecy of the discovery of America. daughter of Polycrates,

dreamed that Jupiter bathed her father, and Apollo anointed him; and

it came to the sun made his body run with sweat, and the rain washed

it. Philip of Macedon dreamed, he sealed up his wife's belly;

whereby he did expound it, that his wife should be barren; but

Aristander the soothsayer, told him his wife was with child because

men do not use to seal vessels, that are empty. A phantasm that

appeared to M. Brutus, in his tent, said to him, Philippis iterum me

videbis. Tiberius said to Galba, Tu quoque, Galba, degustabis

imperium. In Vespasian's time, there went a prophecy in the East, that

those that should come forth of Judea, should reign over the world:

which though it may be was meant of our Savior; yet Tacitus expounds

it of Vespasian. Domitian dreamed, the night before he was slain, that

a golden head was growing, out of the nape of his neck: and indeed,

the succession that followed him for many years, made golden times.

Henry the Sixth of England, said of Henry the Seventh, when he was a

lad, and gave him water, This is the lad that shall enjoy the crown,

for which we strive. When I was in France, I heard from one Dr.

Penal that the Queen Mother, who was given to curious arts, caused the

King her husband's nativity to be calculated, under a false name;

and the astrologer gave a judgment, that he should be killed in a

duel; at which the Queen laughed, thinking her husband to be above

challenges and duels: but he was slain upon a course at tilt, the

splinters of the staff of Montgomery going in at his beaver. The

trivial prophecy, which I heard when I was a child, and Queen

Elizabeth was in the flower of her years, was,

When hempe is spun

England's done:

whereby it was generally conceived, that after the princes had

reigned, which had the principal letters of that word hempe (which

were Henry, Edward, Mary, Philip, and Elizabeth), England should

come to utter confusion; which, thanks be to God, is verified only

in the change of the name; for that the King's style, is now no more

of England, but of Britian. There was also another prophecy, before

the year of '88, which I do not well understand.

There shall be seen upon a day,

Between the Baugh and the May,

The black fleet of Norway.

When that that come and gone,

England build houses of lime and stone,

For after wars shall you have none.

It was generally conceived to be meant, of the Spanish fleet that came

in '88: for that the king of Spain's surname, as they say, is

Norway. The prediction of Regiomontanus,

Octogesimus octavus mirabilis annus,

was thought likewise accomplished in the sending of that great

fleet, being the greatest in strength, though not in number, of all

that ever swam upon the sea. As for Cleon's dream, I think it was a

jest. It was, that he was devoured of a long dragon; and it was

expounded of a maker of sausages, that troubled him exceedingly. There

are numbers of the like kind; especially if you include dreams, and

predictions of astrology. But I have set down these few only, of

certain credit, for example. My judgment is, that they ought all to be

despised; and ought to serve but for winter talk by the fireside.

Though when I say despised, I mean it as for belief; for otherwise,

the spreading, or publishing, of them, is in no sort to be despised.

For they have done much mischief; and I see many severe laws made,

to suppress them. That that hath given them grace, and some credit,

consisteth in three things. First, that men mark when they hit, and

never mark when they miss; as they do generally also of dreams. The

second is, that probable conjectures, or obscure traditions, many

times turn themselves into prophecies; while the nature of man,

which coveteth divination, thinks it no peril to foretell that which

indeed they do but collect. As that of Seneca's verse. For so much was

then subject to demonstration, that the globe of the earth had great

parts beyond the Atlantic, which mought be probably conceived not to

be all sea: and adding thereto the tradition in Plato's Timaeus, and

his Atlanticus, it mought encourage one to turn it to a prediction.

The third and last (which is the great one) is, that almost all of

them, being infinite in number, have been impostures, and by idle

and crafty brains merely contrived and feigned, after the event past.

OF AMBITION

Ambition is like choler; which is an humor that maketh men active,

earnest, full of alacrity, and stirring, if it be not stopped. But

if it be stopped, and cannot have his way, it becometh adust, and

thereby malign and venomous. So ambitious men, if they find the way

open for their rising, and still get forward, they are rather busy

than dangerous; but if they be checked in their desires, they become

secretly discontent, and look upon men and matters with an evil eye,

and are best pleased, when things go backward; which is the worst

property in a servant of a prince, or state. Therefore it is good

for princes, if they use ambitious men, to handle it, so as they be

still progressive and not retrograde; which, because it cannot be

without inconvenience, it is good not to use such natures at all.

For if they rise not with their service, they will take order, to make

their service fall with them. But since we have said, it were good not

to use men of ambitious natures, except it be upon necessity, it is

fit we speak, in what cases they are of necessity. Good commanders

in the wars must be taken, be they never so ambitious; for the use

of their service, dispenseth with the rest; and to take a soldier

without ambition, is to pull off his spurs. There is also great use of

ambitious men, in being screens to princes in matters of danger and

envy; for no man will take that part, except he be like a seeled dove,

that mounts and mounts, because he cannot see about him. There is

use also of ambitious men, in pulling down the greatness of any

subject that over-tops; as Tiberius used Marco, in the pulling down of

Sejanus. Since, therefore, they must be used in such cases, there

resteth to speak, how they are to be bridled, that they may be less

dangerous. There is less danger of them, if they be of mean birth,

than if they be noble; and if they be rather harsh of nature, than

gracious and popular: and if they be rather new raised, than grown

cunning, and fortified, in their greatness. It is counted by some, a

weakness in princes, to have favorites; but it is, of all others,

the best remedy against ambitious great-ones. For when the way of

pleasuring, and displeasuring, lieth by the favorite, it is impossible

any other should be overgreat. Another means to curb them, is to

balance them by others, as proud as they. But then there must be

some middle counsellors, to keep things steady; for without that

ballast, the ship will roll too much. At the least, a prince may

animate and inure some meaner persons, to be as it were scourges, to

ambitions men. As for the having of them obnoxious to ruin; if they be

of fearful natures, it may do well; but if they be stout and daring,

it may precipitate their designs, and prove dangerous. As for the

pulling of them down, if the affairs require it, and that it may not

be done with safety suddenly, the only way is the interchange,

continually, of favors and disgraces; whereby they may not know what

to expect, and be, as it were, in a wood. Of ambitions, it is less

harmful, the ambition to prevail in great things, than that other,

to appear in every thing; for that breeds confusion, and mars

business. But yet it is less danger, to have an ambitious man stirring

in business, than great in dependences. He that seeketh to be

eminent amongst able men, hath a great task; but that is ever good for

the public. But he, that plots to be the only figure amongst

ciphers, is the decay of a whole age. Honor hath three things in it:

the vantage ground to do good; the approach to kings and principal

persons; and the raising of a man's own fortunes. He that hath the

best of these intentions, when he aspireth, is an honest man; and that

prince, that can discern of these intentions in another that aspireth,

is a wise prince. Generally, let princes and states choose such

ministers, as are more sensible of duty than of rising; and such as

love business rather upon conscience, than upon bravery, and let

them discern a busy nature, from a willing mind.

OF MASQUES AND TRIUMPHS

These things are but toys, to come amongst such serious

observations. But yet, since princes will have such things, it is

better they should be graced with elegancy, than daubed with cost.

Dancing to song, is a thing of great state and pleasure. I

understand it, that the song be in quire, placed aloft, and

accompanied with some broken music; and the ditty fitted to the

device. Acting in song, especially in dialogues, hath an extreme

good grace; I say acting, not dancing (for that is a mean and vulgar

thing); and the voices of the dialogue would be strong and manly (a

base and a tenor; no treble); and the ditty high and tragical; not

nice or dainty. Several quires, placed one over against another, and

taking the voice by catches, anthem-wise, give great pleasure. Turning

dances into figure, is a childish curiosity. And generally let it be

noted, that those things which I here set down, are such as do

naturally take the sense, and not respect petty wonderments. It is

true, the alterations of scenes, so it be quietly and without noise,

are things of great beauty and pleasure; for they feed and relieve the

eye, before it be full of the same object. Let the scenes abound

with light, specially colored and varied; and let the masquers, or any

other, that are to come down from the scene, have some motions upon

the scene itself, before their coming down; for it draws the eye

strangely, and makes it, with great pleasure, to desire to see, that

it cannot perfectly discern. Let the gongs be loud and cheerful, and

not chirpings or pulings. Let the music likewise be sharp and loud,

and well placed. The colors that show best by candle-light are

white, carnation, and a kind of sea-water-green; and oes, or spangs,

as they are of no great cost, so they are of most glory. As for rich

embroidery, it is lost and not discerned. Let the suits of the

masquers be graceful, and such as become the person, when the vizors

are off; not after examples of known attires; Turke, soldiers,

mariners, and the like. Let anti-masques not be long; they have been

commonly of fools, satyrs, baboons, wild-men, antics, beasts, sprites,

witches, Ethiops, pigmies, turquets, nymphs, rustics, Cupids,

statuas moving, and the like. As for angels, it is not comical enough,

to put them in anti-masques; and anything that is hideous, as

devils, giants, is on the other side as unfit. But chiefly, let the

music of them be recreative, and with some strange changes. Some sweet

odors suddenly coming forth, without any drops falling, are, in such a

company as there is steam and heat, things of great pleasure and

refreshment. Double masques, one of men, another of ladies, addeth

state and variety. But all is nothing except the room be kept clear

and neat.

For justs, and tourneys, and barriers; the glories of them are

chiefly in the chariots, wherein the challengers make their entry;

especially if they be drawn with strange beasts: as lions, bears,

camels, and the like; or in the devices of their entrance; or in the

bravery of their liveries; or in the goodly furniture of their

horses and armor. But enough of these toys.

OF NATURE IN MEN

Nature is often hidden; sometimes overcome; seldom extinguished.

Force, maketh nature more violent in the return; doctrine and

discourse, maketh nature less importune; but custom only doth alter

and subdue nature. He that seeketh victory over his nature, let him

not set himself too great, nor too small tasks; for the first will

make him dejected by often failings; and the second will make him a

small proceeder, though by often prevailings. And at the first let him

practise with helps, as swimmers do with bladders or rushes; but after

a time let him practise with disadvantages, as dancers do with thick

shoes. For it breeds great perfection, if the practice be harder

than the use. Where nature is mighty, and therefore the victory

hard, the degrees had need be, first to stay and arrest nature in

time; like to him that would say over the four and twenty letters when

he was angry; then to go less in quantity; as if one should, in

forbearing wine, come from drinking healths, to a draught at a meal;

and lastly, to discontinue altogether. But if a man have the

fortitude, and resolution, to enfranchise himself at once, that is the

best:

Optimus ille animi vindex laedentia pectus

Vincula qui rupit, dedoluitque semel.

Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend nature, as a wand, to a

contrary extreme, whereby to set it left, understanding it, where the

contrary extreme is no vice. Let not a man force a habit upon'

himself, with a perpetual continuance, but with some intermission. For

both the pause reinforceth the new onset; and if a man that is not

perfect, be ever in practice, he shall as well practise his errors, as

his abilities, and induce one habit of both; and there is no means

to help this, but by seasonable intermissions. But let not a man trust

his victory over his nature, too far; for nature will lay buried a

great time, and yet revive, upon the occasion or temptation. Like as

it was with AEsop's damsel, turned from a cat to a woman, who sat very

demurely at the board's end, till a mouse ran before her. Therefore,

let a man either avoid the occasion altogether; or put himself often

to it, that he may be little moved with it. A man's nature is best

perceived in privateness, for there is no affectation; in passion, for

that putteth a man out of his precepts; and in a new case or

experiment, for there custom leaveth him. They are happy men, whose

natures sort with their vocations; otherwise they may say, multum

incola fuit anima mea; when they converse in those things, they do not

affect. In studies, whatsoever a man commandeth upon himself, let

him set hours for it; but whatsoever is agreeable to his nature, let

him take no care for any set times; for his thoughts will fly to it,

of themselves; so as the spaces of other business, or studies, will

suffice. A man's nature, runs either to herbs or weeds; therefore

let him seasonably water the one, and destroy the other.

OF CUSTOM AND EDUCATION

Men's thoughts, are much according to their inclination; their

discourse and speeches, according to their learning and infused

opinions; but their deeds, are after as they have been accustomed. And

therefore, as Machiavel well noteth (though in an evil-favored

instance), there is no trusting to the force of nature, nor to the

bravery of words, except it be corroborate by custom. His instance is,

that for the achieving of a desperate conspiracy, a man should not

rest upon the fierceness of any man's nature, or his resolute

undertakings; but take such an one, as hath had his hands formerly

in blood. But Machiavel knew not of a Friar Clement, nor a Ravillac,

nor a Jaureguy, nor a Baltazar Gerard; yet his rule holdeth still,

that nature, nor the engagement of words, are not so forcible, as

custom. Only superstition is now so well advanced, that men of the

first blood, are as firm as butchers by occupation; and votary

resolution, is made equipollent to custom, even in matter of blood. In

other things, the predominancy of custom is everywhere visible;

insomuch as a man would wonder, to hear men profess, protest,

engage, give great words, and then do, just as they have done

before; as if they were dead images, and engines moved only by the

wheels of custom. We see also the reign or tyranny of custom, what

it is. The Indians (I mean the sect of their wise men) lay

themselves quietly upon a stock of wood, and so sacrifice themselves

by fire. Nay, the wives strive to be burned, with the corpses of their

husbands. The lads of Sparta, of ancient time, were wont to be

scourged upon the altar of Diana, without so much as queching. I

remember, in the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's time of England, an

Irish rebel condemned, put up a petition to the deputy, that he

might be hanged in a withe, and not in an halter; because it had

been so used, with former rebels. There be monks in Russia, for

penance, that will sit a whole night in a vessel of water, till they

be engaged with hard ice. Many examples may be put of the force of

custom, both upon mind and body. Therefore, since custom is the

principal magistrate of man's life, let men by all means endeavor,

to obtain good customs. Certainly custom is most perfect, when it

beginneth in young years: this we call education; which is, in effect,

but an early custom. So we see, in languages, the tongue is more

pliant to all expressions and sounds, the joints are more supple, to

all feats of activity and motions, in youth than afterwards. For it is

true, that late learners cannot so well take the ply; except it be

in some minds that have not suffered themselves to fix, but have

kept themselves open, and prepared to receive continual amendment,

which is exceeding rare. But if the force of custom simple and

separate, be great, the force of custom copulate and conjoined and

collegiate, is far greater. For there example teacheth, company

comforteth, emulation quickeneth, glory raiseth: so as in such

places the force of custom is in his exaltation. Certainly the great

multiplication of virtues upon human nature, resteth uponsocieties

well ordained and disciplined. For commonwealths, and good

governments, do nourish virtue grown, but do not much mend the

deeds. But the misery is, that the most effectual means, are now

applied to the ends, least to be desired.

OF FORTUNE

It cannot be denied, but outward accidents conduce much to

fortune; favor, opportunity, death of others, occasion fitting virtue.

But chiefly, the mould of a man's fortune is in his own hands. Faber

quisque fortunae suae, saith the poet. And the most frequent of

external causes is, that the folly of one man, is the fortune of

another. For no man prospers so suddenly, as by others' errors.

Serpens nisi serpentem comederit non fit draco. Overt and apparent

virtues, bring forth praise; but there be secret and hidden virtues,

that bring forth fortune; certain deliveries of a man's self, which

have no name. The Spanish name, desemboltura, partly expresseth

them; when there be not stonds nor restiveness in a man's nature;

but that the wheels of his mind, keep way with the wheels of his

fortune. For so Livy (after he had described Cato Major in these

words, In illo viro tantum robur corporis et animi fuit, ut

quocunque loco natus esset, fortunam sibi facturus videretur)

falleth upon that, that he had versatile ingenium. Therefore if a

man look sharply and attentively, he shall see Fortune: for though she

be blind, yet she is not invisible. The way of fortune, is like the

Milken Way in the sky; which is a meeting or knot of a number of small

stars; not seen asunder, but giving light together. So are there a

number of little, and scarce discerned virtues, or rather faculties

and customs, that make men fortunate. The Italians note some of

them, such as a man would little think. When they speak of one that

cannot do amiss, they will throw in, into his other conditions, that

he hath Poco di matto. And certainly there be not two more fortunate

properties, than to have a little of the fool, and not too much of the

honest. Therefore extreme lovers of their country or masters, were

never fortunate, neither can they be. For when a man placeth his

thoughts without himself, he goeth not his own way. An hasty fortune

maketh an enterpriser and remover (the French hath it better,

entreprenant, or remuant); but the exercised fortune maketh the able

man. Fortune is to be honored and respected, and it be but for her

daughters, Confidence and Reputation. For those two, Felicity

breedeth; the first within a man's self, the latter in others

towards him. All wise men, to decline the envy of their own virtues,

use to ascribe them to Providence and Fortune; for so they may the

better assume them: and, besides, it is greatness in a man, to be

the care of the higher powers. So Caesar said to the pilot in the

tempest, Caesarem portas, et fortunam ejus. So Sylla chose the name of

Felix, and not of Magnus. And it hath been noted, that those who

ascribe openly too much to their own wisdom and policy, end

infortunate. It is written that Timotheus the Athenian, after he

had, in the account he gave to the state of his government, often

interlaced this speech, and in this, Fortune had no part, never

prospered in anything, he undertook afterwards. Certainly there be,

whose fortunes are like Homer's verses, that have a slide and easiness

more than the verses of other poets; as Plutarch saith of Timoleon's

fortune, in respect of that of Agesilaus or Epaminondas. And that this

should be, no doubt it is much, in a man's self.

OF USURY

Many have made witty invectives against usury. They say that it is a

pity, the devil should have God's part, which is the tithe. That the

usurer is the greatest Sabbath-breaker, because his plough goeth every

Sunday. That the usurer is the drone, that Virgil speaketh of;

Ignavum fucos pecus a praesepibus arcent.

That the usurer breaketh the first law, that was made for mankind

after the fall, which was, in sudore vultus tui comedes panem tuum;

not, in sudore vultus alieni. That usurers should have orange-tawny

bonnets, because they do judaize. That it is against nature for

money to beget money; and the like. I say this only, that usury is a

concessum propter duritiem cordis; for since there must be borrowing

and lending, and men are so hard of heart, as they will not lend

freely, usury must be permitted. Some others, have made suspicious and

cunning propositions of banks, discovery of men's estates, and other

inventions. But few have spoken of usury usefully. It is good to set

before us, the incommodities and commodities of usury, that the

good, may be either weighed out or called out; and warily to

provide, that while we make forth to that which is better, we meet not

with that which is worse.

The discommodities of usury are, First, that it makes fewer

merchants. For were it not for this lazy trade of usury, money would

not he still, but would in great part be employed upon

merchandizing; which is the vena porta of wealth in a state. The

second, that it makes poor merchants. For, as a farmer cannot

husband his ground so well, if he sit at a great rent; so the merchant

cannot drive his trade so well, if he sit at great usury. The third is

incident to the other two; and that is the decay of customs of kings

or states, which ebb or flow, with merchandizing. The fourth, that

it bringeth the treasure of a realm, or state, into a few hands. For

the usurer being at certainties, and others at uncertainties, at the

end of the game, most of the money will be in the box; and ever a

state flourisheth, when wealth is more equally spread. The fifth, that

it beats down the price of land; for the employment of money, is

chiefly either merchandizing or purchasing; and usury waylays both.

The sixth, that it doth dull and damp all industries, improvements,

and new inventions, wherein money would be stirring, if it were not

for this slug. The last, that it is the canker and ruin of many

men's estates; which, in process of time, breeds a public poverty.

On the other side, the commodities of usury are, first, that

howsoever usury in some respect hindereth merchandizing, yet in some

other it advanceth it; for it is certain that the greatest part of

trade is driven by young merchants, upon borrowing at interest; so

as if the usurer either call in, or keep back, his money, there will

ensue, presently, a great stand of trade. The second is, that were

it not for this easy borrowing upon interest, men's necessities

would draw upon them a most sudden undoing; in that they would be

forced to sell their means (be it lands or goods) far under foot;

and so, whereas usury doth but gnaw upon them, bad markets would

swallow them quite up. As for mortgaging or pawning, it will little

mend the matter: for either men will not take pawns without use; or if

they do, they will look precisely for the forfeiture. I remember a

cruel moneyed man in the country, that would say, The devil take

this usury, it keeps us from forfeitures, of mortgages and bonds.

The third and last is, that it is a vanity to conceive, that there

would be ordinary borrowing without profit; and it is impossible to

conceive, the number of inconveniences that will ensue, if borrowing

be cramped. Therefore to speak of the abolishing of usury is idle. All

states have ever had it, in one kind or rate, or other. So as that

opinion must be sent to Utopia.

To speak now of the reformation, and reiglement, of usury; how the

discommodities of it may be best avoided, and the commodities

retained. It appears, by the balance of commodities and discommodities

of usury, two things are to be reconciled. The one, that the tooth

of usury be grinded, that it bite not too much; the other, that

there be left open a means, to invite moneyed men to lend to the

merchants, for the continuing and quickening of trade. This cannot

be done, except you introduce two several sorts of usury, a less and a

greater. For if you reduce usury to one low rate, it will ease the

common borrower, but the merchant will be to seek for money. And it is

to be noted, that the trade of merchandize, being the most

lucrative, may bear usury at a good rate; other contracts not so.

To serve both intentions, the way would be briefly thus. That

there be two rates of usury: the one free, and general for all; the

other under license only, to certain persons, and in certain places of

merchandizing. First, therefore, let usury in general, be reduced to

five in the hundred; and let that rate be proclaimed, to be free and

current; and let the state shut itself out, to take any penalty for

the same. This will preserve borrowing, from any general stop or

dryness. This will ease infinite borrowers in the country. This

will, in good part, raise the price of land, because land purchased at

sixteen years' purchase will yield six in the hundred, and somewhat

more; whereas this rate of interest, yields but five. This by like

reason will encourage, and edge, industrious and profitable

improvements; because many will rather venture in that kind, than take

five in the hundred, especially having been used to greater profit.

Secondly, let there be certain persons licensed, to lend to known

merchants, upon usury at a higher rate; and let it be with the

cautions following. Let the rate be, even with the merchant himself,

somewhat more easy than that he used formerly to pay; for by that

means, all borrowers, shall have some ease by this reformation, be

he merchant, or whosoever. Let it be no bank or common stock, but

every man be master of his own money. Not that I altogether mislike

banks, but they will hardly be brooked, in regard of certain

suspicions. Let the state be answered some small matter for the

license, and the rest left to the lender; for if the abatement be

but small, it will no whit discourage the lender. For he, for example,

that took before ten or nine in the hundred, will sooner descend to

eight in the hundred than give over his trade of usury, and go from

certain gains, to gains of hazard. Let these licensed lenders be in

number indefinite, but restrained to certain principal cities and

towns of merchandizing; for then they will be hardly able to color

other men's moneys in the country: so as the license of nine will

not suck away the current rate of five; for no man will send his

moneys far off, nor put them into unknown hands.

If it be objected that this doth in a sort authorize usury, which

before, was in some places but permissive; the answer is, that it is

better to mitigate usury, by declaration, than to suffer it to rage,

by connivance.

OF YOUTH AND AGE

A man that is young in years, may be old in hours, if he have lost

no time. But that happeneth rarely. Generally, youth is like the first

cogitations, not so wise as the second. For there is a youth in

thoughts, as well as in ages. And yet the invention of young men, is

more lively than that of old; and imaginations stream into their minds

better, and, as it were, more divinely. Natures that have much heat,

and great and violent desires and perturbations, are not ripe for

action, till they have passed the meridian of their years; as it was

with Julius Caesar and Septimius Severus. Of the latter, of whom it is

said, Juventutem egit erroribus, imo furoribus, plenam. And yet he was

the ablest emperor, almost, of all the list. But reposed natures may

do well in youth. As it is seen in Augustus Caesar, Cosmus Duke of

Florence, Gaston de Foix, and others. On the other side, heat and

vivacity in age, is an excellent composition for business. Young men

are fitter to invent, than to judge; fitter for execution, than for

counsel; and fitter for new projects, than for settled business. For

the experience of age, in things that fall within the compass of it,

directeth them; but in new things, abuseth them.

The errors of young men, are the ruin of business; but the errors of

aged men, amount but to this, that more might have been done, or

sooner. Young men, in the conduct and manage of actions, embrace

more than they can hold; stir more than they can quiet; fly to the

end, without consideration of the means and degrees; pursue some few

principles, which they have chanced upon absurdly; care not to

innovate, which draws unknown inconveniences; use extreme remedies

at first; and, that which doubleth all errors, will not acknowledge or

retract them; like an unready horse, that will neither stop nor

turn. Men of age object too much, consult too long, adventure too

little, repent too soon, and seldom drive business home to the full

period, but content themselves with a mediocrity of success. Certainly

it is good to compound employments of both; for that will be good

for the present, because the virtues of either age, may correct the

defects of both; and good for succession, that young men may be

learners, while men in age are actors; and, lastly, good for extern

accidents, because authority followeth old men, and favor and

popularity, youth. But for the moral part, perhaps youth will have the

pre-eminence, as age hath for the politic. A certain rabbin, upon

the text, Your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall

dream dreams, inferreth that young men, are admitted nearer to God

than old, because vision, is a clearer revelation, than a dream. And

certainly, the more a man drinketh of the world, the more it

intoxicateth; and age doth profit rather in the powers of

understanding, than in the virtues of the will and affections. There

be some, have an over-early ripeness in their years, which fadeth

betimes. These are, first, such as have brittle wits, the edge whereof

is soon turned; such as was Hermogenes the rhetorician, whose books

are exceeding subtle; who afterwards waxed stupid. A second sort, is

of those that have some natural dispositions which have better grace

in youth, than in age; such as is a fluent and luxuriant speech; which

becomes youth well, but not age: so Tully saith of Hortensius, Idem

manebat, neque idem decebat. The third is of such, as take too high

a strain at the first, and are magnanimous, more than tract of years

can uphold. As was Scipio Africanus, of whom Livy saith in effect,

Ultima primis cedebant.

OF BEAUTY

Virtue is like a rich stone, best plain set; and surely virtue is

best, in a body that is comely, though not of delicate features; and

that hath rather dignity of presence, than beauty of aspect. Neither

is it almost seen, that very beautiful persons are otherwise of

great virtue; as if nature were rather busy, not to err, than in labor

to produce excellency. And therefore they prove accomplished, but

not of great spirit; and study rather behavior, than virtue. But

this holds not always: for Augustus Caesar, Titus Vespasianus,

Philip le Belle of France, Edward the Fourth of England, Alcibiades of

Athens, Ismael the Sophy of Persia, were all high and great spirits;

and yet the most beautiful men of their times. In beauty, that of

favor, is more than that of color; and that of decent and gracious

motion, more than that of favor. That is the best part of beauty,

which a picture cannot express; no, nor the first sight of the life.

There is no excellent beauty, that hath not some strangeness in the

proportion. A man cannot tell whether Apelles, or Albert Durer, were

the more trifler; whereof the one, would make a personage by

geometrical proportions; the other, by taking the best parts out of

divers faces, to make one excellent. Such personages, I think, would

please nobody, but the painter that made them. Not but I think a

painter may make a better face than ever was; but he must do it by a

kind of felicity (as a musician that maketh an excellent air in

music), and not by rule. A man shall see faces, that if you examine

them part by part, you shall find never a good; and yet altogether

do well. If it be true that the principal part of beauty is in

decent motion, certainly it is no marvel, though persons in years seem

many times more amiable; pulchrorum autumnus pulcher; for no youth can

be comely but by pardon, and considering the youth, as to make up

the comeliness. Beauty is as summer fruits, which are easy to corrupt,

and cannot last; and for the most part it makes a dissolute youth, and

an age a little out of countenance; but yet certainly again, if it

light well, it maketh virtue shine, and vices blush.

OF DEFORMITY

Deformed persons are commonly even with nature; for as nature hath

done ill by them, so do they by nature; being for the most part (as

the Scripture saith) void of natural affection; and so they have their

revenge of nature. Certainly there is a consent, between the body

and the mind; and where nature erreth in the one, she ventureth in the

other. Ubi peccat in uno, periclitatur in altero. But because there

is, in man, an election touching the frame of his mind, and a

necessity in the frame of his body, the stars of natural inclination

are sometimes obscured, by the sun of discipline and virtue. Therefore

it is good to consider of deformity, not as a sign, which is more

deceivable; but as a cause, which seldom faileth of the effect.

Whosoever hath anything fixed in his person, that doth induce

contempt, hath also a perpetual spur in himself, to rescue and deliver

himself from scorn. Therefore all deformed persons, are extreme

bold. First, as in their own defence, as being exposed to scorn; but

in process of time, by a general habit. Also it stirreth in them

industry, and especially of this kind, to watch and observe the

weakness of others, that they may have somewhat to repay. Again, in

their superiors, it quencheth jealousy towards them, as persons that

they think they may, at pleasure, despise: and it layeth their

competitors and emulators asleep; as never believing they should be in

possibility of advancement, till they see them in possession. So

that upon the matter, in a great wit, deformity is an advantage to

rising. Kings in ancient times (and at this present in some countries)

were wont to put great trust in eunuchs; because they that are envious

towards all are more obnoxious and officious, towards one. But yet

their trust towards them, hath rather been as to good spials, and good

whisperers, than good magistrates and officers. And much like is the

reason of deformed persons. Still the ground is, they will, if they be

of spirit, seek to free themselves from scorn; which must be either by

virtue or malice; and therefore let it not be marvelled, if

sometimes they prove excellent persons; as was Agesilaus, Zanger the

son of Solyman, AEsop, Gasca, President of Peru; and Socrates may go

likewise amongst them; with others.

OF BUILDING

Houses are built to live in, and not to look on; therefore let use

be preferred before uniformity, except where both may be had. Leave

the goodly fabrics of houses, for beauty only, to the enchanted

palaces of the poets; who build them with small cost. He that builds a

fair house, upon an ill seat, committeth himself to prison. Neither do

I reckon it an ill seat, only where the air is unwholesome; but

likewise where the air is unequal; as you shall see many fine seats

set upon a knap of ground, environed with higher hills round about it;

whereby the heat of the sun is pent in, and the wind gathereth as in

troughs; so as you shall have, and that suddenly, as great diversity

of heat and cold as if you dwelt in several places. Neither is it

ill air only that maketh an ill seat, but ill ways, ill markets;

and, if you will consult with Momus, ill neighbors. I speak not of

many more; want of water; want of wood, shade, and shelter; want of

fruitfulness, and mixture of grounds of several natures; want of

prospect; want of level grounds; want of places at some near

distance for sports of hunting, hawking, and races; too near the

sea, too remote; having the commodity of navigable rivers, or the

discommodity of their overflowing; too far off from great cities,

which may hinder business, or too near them, which lurcheth all

provisions, and maketh everything dear; where a man hath a great

living laid together, and where he is scanted: all which, as it is

impossible perhaps to find together, so it is good to know them, and

think of them, that a man may take as many as he can; and if he have

several dwellings, that he sort them so, that what he wanteth in the

one, he may find in the other. Lucullus answered Pompey well; who,

when he saw his stately galleries, and rooms so large and lightsome,

in one of his houses, said, Surely an excellent place for summer,

but how do you in winter? Lucullus answered, Why, do you not think

me as wise as some fowl are, that ever change their abode towards

the winter?

To pass from the seat, to the house itself; we will do as Cicero

doth in the orator's art; who writes books De Oratore, and a book he

entitles Orator; whereof the former, delivers the precepts of the art,

and the latter, the perfection. We will therefore describe a

princely palace, making a brief model thereof. For it is strange to

see, now in Europe, such huge buildings as the Vatican and Escurial

and some others be, and yet scarce a very fair room in them.

First, therefore, I say you cannot have a perfect palace except

you have two several sides; a side for the banquet, as it is spoken of

in the book of Hester, and a side for the household; the one for

feasts and triumphs, and the other for dwelling. I understand both

these sides to be not only returns, but parts of the front; and to

be uniform without, though severally partitioned within; and to be

on both sides of a great and stately tower, in the midst of the front,

that, as it were, joineth them together on either hand. I would have

on the side of the banquet, in front, one only goodly room above

stairs, of some forty foot high; and under it a room for a dressing,

or preparing place, at times of triumphs. On the other side, which

is the household side, I wish it divided at the first, into a hall and

a chapel (with a partition between); both of good state and bigness;

and those not to go all the length, but to have at the further end,

a winter and a summer parlor, both fair. And under these rooms, a fair

and large cellar, sunk under ground; and likewise some privy kitchens,

with butteries and pantries, and the like. As for the tower, I would

have it two stories, of eighteen foot high apiece, above the two

wings; and a goodly leads upon the top, railed with statuas

interposed; and the same tower to be divided into rooms, as shall be

thought fit. The stairs likewise to the upper rooms, let them be

upon a fair open newel, and finely railed in, with images of wood,

cast into a brass color; and a very fair landing-place at the top. But

this to be, if you do not point any of the lower rooms, for a dining

place of servants. For otherwise, you shall have the servants'

dinner after your own: for the steam of it, will come up as in a

tunnel. And so much for the front. Only I understand the height of the

first stairs to be sixteen foot, which is the height of the lower

room.

Beyond this front, is there to be a fair court, but three sides of

it, of a far lower building than the front. And in all the four

corners of that court, fair staircases, cast into turrets, on the

outside, and not within the row of buildings themselves. But those

towers, are not to be of the height of the front, but rather

proportionable to the lower building. Let the court not be paved,

for that striketh up a great heat in summer, and much cold in

winter. But only some side alleys, with a cross, and the quarters to

graze, being kept shorn, but not too near shorn. The row of return

on the banquet side, let it be all stately galleries: in which

galleiies let there be three, or five, fine cupolas in the length of

it, placed at equal distance; and fine colored windows of several

works. On the household side, chambers of presence and ordinary

entertainments, with some bed-chambers; and let all three sides be a

double house, without thorough lights on the sides, that you may

have rooms from the sun, both for forenoon and afternoon. Cast it

also, that you may have rooms, both for summer and winter; shady for

summer, and warm for winter. You shall have sometimes fair houses so

full of glass, that one cannot tell where to become, to be out of

the sun or cold. For inbowed windows, I hold them of good use (in

cities, indeed, upright do better, in respect of the uniformity

towards the street); for they be pretty retiring places for

conference; and besides, they keep both the wind and sun off; for that

which would strike almost through the room, doth scarce pass the

window. But let them be but few, four in the court, on the sides only.

Beyond this court, let there be an inward court, of the same

square and height; which is to be environed with the garden on all

sides; and in the inside, cloistered on all sides, upon decent and

beautiful arches, as high as the first story. On the under story,

towards the garden, let it be turned to a grotto, or a place of shade,

or estivation. And only have opening and windows towards the garden;

and be level upon the floor, no whit sunken under ground, to avoid all

dampishness. And let there be a fountain, or some fair work of

statuas, in the midst of this court; and to be paved as the other

court was. These buildings to be for privy lodgings on both sides; and

the end for privy galleries. Whereof you must foresee that one of them

be for an infirmary, if the prince or any special person should be

sick, with chambers, bed-chamber, antecamera, and recamera joining

to it. This upon the second story. Upon the ground story, a fair

gallery, open, upon pillars; and upon the third story likewise, an

open gallery, upon pillars, to take the prospect and freshness of

the garden. At both corners of the further side, by way of return, let

there be two delicate or rich cabinets, daintily paved, richly hanged,

glazed with crystalline glass, and a rich cupola in the midst; and all

other elegancy that may be thought upon. In the upper gallery tool I

wish that there may be, if the place will yield it, some fountains

running in divers places from the wall, with some fine avoidances. And

thus much for the model of the palace; save that you must have, before

you come to the front, three courts. A green court plain, with a

wall about it; a second court of the same, but more garnished, with

little turrets, or rather embellishments, upon the wall; and a third

court, to make a square with the front, but not to be built, nor yet

enclosed with a naked wall, but enclosed with terraces, leaded

aloft, and fairly garnished, on the three sides; and cloistered on the

inside, with pillars, and not with arches below. As for offices, let

them stand at distance, with some low galleries, to pass from them

to the palace itself.

OF GARDENS

God Almighty planted a garden. And indeed it is the purest of

human pleasures. It is the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man;

without which, buildings and palaces are but gross handiworks; and a

man shall ever see, that when ages grow to civility and elegancy,

men come to build stately sooner than to garden finely; as if

gardening were the greater perfection. I do hold it, in the royal

ordering of gardens, there ought to be gardens, for all the months

in the year; in which severally things of beauty may be then in

season. For December, and January, and the latter part of November,

you must take such things as are green all winter: holly; ivy; bays;

juniper; cypress-trees; yew; pine-apple-trees; fir-trees; rosemary;

lavender; periwinkle, the white, the purple, and the blue;

germander; flags; orange-trees; lemon-trees; and myrtles, if they be

stoved; and sweet marjoram, warm set. There followeth, for the

latter part of January and February, the mezereon-tree, which then

blossoms; crocus vernus, both the yellow and the grey; primroses;

anemones; the early tulippa; hyacinthus orientalis; chamairis;

fritellaria. For March, there come violets, specially the single blue,

which are the earliest; the yellow daffodil; the daisy; the

almond-tree in blossom; the peach-tree in blossom; the

cornelian-tree in blossom; sweet-briar. In April follow the double

white violet; the wallflower; the stock-gilliflower; the cowslip;

flower-delices, and lilies of all natures; rosemary-flowers; the

tulippa; the double peony; the pale daffodil; the French

honeysuckle; the cherry-tree in blossom; the damson and plum-trees

in blossom; the white thorn in leaf; the lilac-tree. In May and June

come pinks of all sorts, specially the blushpink; roses of all

kinds, except the musk, which comes later; honeysuckles; strawberries;

bugloss; columbine; the French marigold, flos Africanus; cherry-tree

in fruit; ribes; figs in fruit; rasps; vineflowers; lavender in

flowers; the sweet satyrian, with the white flower; herba muscaria;

lilium convallium; the apple-tree in blossom. In July come

gilliflowers of all varieties; musk-roses; the lime-tree in blossom;

early pears and plums in fruit; jennetings, codlins. In August come

plums of all sorts in fruit; pears; apricocks; berberries; filberds;

musk-melons; monks-hoods, of all colors. In September come grapes;

apples; poppies of all colors; peaches; melocotones; nectarines;

cornelians; wardens; quinces. In October and the beginning of November

come services; medlars; bullaces; roses cut or removed to come late;

hollyhocks; and such like. These particulars are for the climate of

London; but my meaning is perceived, that you may have ver

perpetuum, as the place affords.

And because the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air (where

it comes and goes like the warbling of music) than in the hand,

therefore nothing is more fit for that delight, than to know what be

the flowers and plants that do best perfume the air. Roses, damask and

red, are fast flowers of their smells; so that you may walk by a whole

row of them, and find nothing of their sweetness; yea though it be

in a moming's dew. Bays likewise yield no smell as they grow. Rosemary

little; nor sweet marjoram. That which above all others yields the

sweetest smell in the air is the violet, specially the white double

violet, which comes twice a year; about the middle of April, and about

Bartholomew-tide. Next to that is the musk-rose. Then the

strawberry-leaves dying, which yield a most excellent cordial smell.

Then the flower of vines; it is a little dust, like the dust of a

bent, which grows upon the cluster in the first coming forth. Then

sweet-briar. Then wall-flowers, which are very delightful to be set

under a parlor or lower chamber window. Then pinks and gilliflowers,

especially the matted pink and clove gilliflower. Then the flowers

of the lime-tree. Then the honeysuckles, so they be somewhat afar off.

Of beanflowers I speak not, because they are field flowers. But

those which perfume the air most delightfully, not passed by as the

rest, but being trodden upon and crushed, are three; that is,

burnet, wild-thyme, and watermints. Therefore you are to set whole

alleys of them, to have the pleasure when you walk or tread.

For gardens (speaking of those which are indeed princelike, as we

have done of buildings), the contents ought not well to be under

thirty acres of ground; and to be divided into three parts; a green in

the entrance; a heath or desert in the going forth; and the main

garden in the midst; besides alleys on both sides. And I like well

that four acres of ground be assigned to the green; six to the

heath; four and four to either side; and twelve to the main garden.

The green hath two pleasures: the one, because nothing is more

pleasant to the eye than green grass kept finely shorn; the other,

because it will give you a fair alley in the midst, by which you may

go in front upon a stately hedge, which is to enclose the garden.

But because the alley will be long, and, in great heat of the year

or day, you ought not to buy the shade in the garden, by going in

the sun through the green, therefore you are, of either side the

green, to plant a covert alley upon carpenter's work, about twelve

foot in height, by which you may go in shade into the garden. As for

the making of knots or figures, with divers colored earths, that

they may lie under the windows of the house on that side which the

garden stands, they be but toys; you may see as good sights, many

times, in tarts. The garden is best to be square, encompassed on all

the four sides with a stately arched hedge. The arches to be upon

pillars of carpenter's work, of some ten foot high, and six foot

broad; and the spaces between of the same dimension with the breadth

of the arch. Over the arches let there be an entire hedge of some four

foot high, framed also upon carpenter's work; and upon the upper

hedge, over every arch, a little turret, with a belly, enough to

receive a cage of birds: and over every space between the arches

some other little figure, with broad plates of round colored glass

gilt, for the sun to play upon. But this hedge I intend to be raised

upon a bank, not steep, but gently slope, of some six foot, set all

with flowers. Also I understand, that this square of the garden,

should not be the whole breadth of the ground, but to leave on

either side, ground enough for diversity of side alleys; unto which

the two covert alleys of the green, may deliver you. But there must be

no alleys with hedges, at either end of this great enclosure; not at

the hither end, for letting your prospect upon this fair hedge from

the green; nor at the further end, for letting your prospect from

the hedge, through the arches upon the heath.

For the ordering of the ground, within the great hedge, I leave it

to variety of device; advising nevertheless, that whatsoever form

you cast it into, first, it be not too busy, or full of work.

Wherein I, for my part, do not like images cut out in juniper or other

garden stuff; they be for children. Little low hedges, round, like

welts, with some pretty pyramids, I like well; and in some places,

fair columns upon frames of carpenter's work. I would also have the

alleys, spacious and fair. You may have closer alleys, upon the side

grounds, but none in the main garden. I wish also, in the very

middle a fair mount, with three ascents, and alleys, enough for four

to walk abreast; which I would have to be perfect circles, without any

bulwarks or embossments; and the whole mount to be thirty foot high;

and some fine banqueting-house, with some chimneys neatly cast, and

without too much glass.

For fountains, they are a great beauty and refreshment; but pools

mar all, and make the garden unwholesome, and full of flies and frogs.

Fountains I intend to be of two natures: the one that sprinkleth or

spouteth water; the other a fair receipt of water, of some thirty or

forty foot square, but without fish, or slime, or mud. For the

first, the ornaments of images gilt, or of marble, which are in use,

do well: but the main matter is so to convey the water, as it never

stay, either in the bowls or in the cistern; that the water be never

by rest discolored, green or red or the like; or gather any

mossiness or putrefaction. Besides that, it is to be cleansed every

day by the hand. Also some steps up to it, and some fine pavement

about it, doth well. As for the other kind of fountain, which we may

call a bathing pool, it may admit much curiosity and beauty; wherewith

we will not trouble ourselves: as, that the bottom be finely paved,

and with images; the sides likewise; and withal embellished with

colored glass, and such things of lustre; encompassed also with fine

rails of low statuas. But the main point is the same which we

mentioned in the former kind of fountain; which is, that the water

be in perpetual motion, fed by a water higher than the pool, and

delivered into it by fair spouts, and then discharged away under

ground, by some equality of bores, that it stay little. And for fine

devices, of arching water without spilling, and making it rise in

several forms (of feathers, drinking glasses, canopies, and the like),

they be pretty things to look on, but nothing to health and sweetness.

For the heath, which was the third part of our plot, I wish it to be

framed, as much as may be, to a natural wildness. Trees I would have

none in it, but some thickets made only of sweet-briar and

honeysuckle, and some wild vine amongst; and the ground set with

violets, strawberries, and primroses. For these are sweet, and prosper

in the shade. And these to be in the heath, here and there, not in any

order. I like also little heaps, in the nature of mole-hills (such

as are in wild heaths), to be set, some with wild thyme; some with

pinks; some with germander, that gives a good flower to the eye;

some with periwinkle; some with violets; some with strawberries;

some with cowslips; some with daisies; some with red roses; some

with lilium convallium; some with sweet-williams red; some with

bear's-foot: and the like low flowers, being withal sweet and sightly.

Part of which heaps, are to be with standards of little bushes pricked

upon their top, and part without. The standards to be roses;

juniper; hory; berberries (but here and there, because of the smell of

their blossoms); red currants; gooseberries; rosemary; bays;

sweetbriar; and such like. But these standards to be kept with

cutting, that they grow not out of course.

For the side grounds, you are to fill them with variety of alleys,

private, to give a full shade, some of them, wheresoever the sun be.

You are to frame some of them, likewise, for shelter, that when the

wind blows sharp you may walk as in a gallery. And those alleys must

be likewise hedged at both ends, to keep out the wind; and these

closer alleys must be ever finely gravelled, and no grass, because

of going wet. In many of these alleys, likewise, you are to set

fruit-trees of all sorts; as well upon the walls, as in ranges. And

this would be generally observed, that the borders wherein you plant

your fruit-trees, be fair and large, and low, and not steep; and set

with fine flowers, but thin and sparingly, lest they deceive the

trees. At the end of both the side grounds, I would have a mount of

some pretty height, leaving the wall of the enclosure breast high,

to look abroad into the fields.

For the main garden, I do not deny, but there should be some fair

alleys ranged on both sides, with fruit-trees; and some pretty tufts

of fruit-trees; and arbors with seats, set in some decent order; but

these to be by no means set too thick; but to leave the main garden so

as it be not close, but the air open and free. For as for shade, I

would have you rest upon the alleys of the side grounds, there to

walk, if you be disposed, in the heat of the year or day; but to

make account, that the main garden is for the more temperate parts

of the year; and in the heat of summer, for the morning and the

evening, or overcast days.

For aviaries, I like them not, except they be of that largeness as

they may be turfed, and have living plants and bushes set in them;

that the birds may have more scope, and natural nestling, and that

no foulness appear in the floor of the aviary. So I have made a

platform of a princely garden, partly by precept, partly by drawing,

not a model, but some general lines of it; and in this I have spared

for no cost. But it is nothing for great princes, that for the most

part taking advice with workmen, with no less cost set their things

together; and sometimes add statuas and such things for state and

magnificence, but nothing to the true pleasure of a garden.

OF NEGOTIATING

It is generally better to deal by speech than by letter; and by

the mediation of a third than by a man's self. Letters are good,

when a man would draw an answer by letter back again; or when it may

serve for a man's justification afterwards to produce his own

letter; or where it may be danger to be interrupted, or heard by

pieces. To deal in person is good, when a man's face breedeth

regard, as commonly with inferiors; or in tender cases, where a

man's eye, upon the countenance of him with whom he speaketh, may give

him a direction how far to go; and generally, where a man will reserve

to himself liberty, either to disavow or to expound. In choice of

instruments, it is better to choose men of a plainer sort, that are

like to do that, that is committed to them, and to report back again

faithfully the success, than those that are cunning, to contrive,

out of other men's business, somewhat to grace themselves, and will

help the matter in report for satisfaction's sake. Use also such

persons as affect the business, wherein they are employed; for that

quickeneth much; and such, as are fit for the matter; as bold men

for expostulation, fair-spoken men for persuasion, crafty for

inquiry and observation, froward, and absurd men, for business that

doth not well bear out itself. Use also such as have been lucky, and

prevailed before, in things wherein you have employed them; for that

breeds confidence, and they will strive to maintain their

prescription. It is better to sound a person, with whom one deals afar

off than to fall upon the point at first; except you mean to

surprise him by some short question. It is better dealing with men

in appetite, than with those that are where they would be. If a man

deal with another upon conditions, the start or first performance is

all; which a man cannot reasonably demand, except either the nature of

the thing be such, which must go before; or else a man can persuade

the other party, that he shall still need him in some other thing;

or else that he be counted the honester man. All practice is to

discover, or to work. Men discover themselves in trust, in passion, at

unawares, and of necessity, when they would have somewhat done, and

cannot find an apt pretext. If you would work any man, you must either

know his nature and fashions, and so lead him; or his ends, and so

persuade him or his weakness and disadvantages, and so awe him or

those that have interest in him, and so govern him. In dealing with

cunning persons, we must ever consider their ends, to interpret

their speeches; and it is good to say little to them, and that which

they least look for. In all negotiations of difficulty, a man may

not look to sow and reap at once; but must prepare business, and so

ripen it by degrees.

OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS

Costly followers are not to be liked; lest while a man maketh his

train longer, he make his wings shorter. I reckon to be costly, not

them alone which charge the purse, but which are wearisome, and

importune in suits. Ordinary followers ought to challenge no higher

conditions, than countenance, recommendation, and protection from

wrongs. Factious followers are worse to be liked, which follow not

upon affection to him, with whom they range themselves, but upon

discontentment conceived against some other; whereupon commonly

ensueth that ill intelligence, that we many times see between great

personages. Likewise glorious followers, who make themselves as

trumpets of the commendation of those they follow, are full of

inconvenience; for they taint business through want of secrecy; and

they export honor from a man, and make him a return in envy. There

is a kind of followers likewise, which are dangerous, being indeed

espials; which inquire the secrets of the house, and bear tales of

them, to others. Yet such men, many times, are in great favor; for

they are officious, and commonly exchange tales. The following by

certain estates of men, answerable to that, which a great person

himself professeth (as of soldiers, to him that hath been employed

in the wars, and the like), hath ever been a thing civil, and well

taken, even in monarchies; so it be without too much pomp or

popularity. But the most honorable kind of following, is to be

followed as one, that apprehendeth to advance virtue, and desert, in

all sorts of persons. And yet, where there is no eminent odds in

sufficiency, it is better to take with the more passable, than with

the more able. And besides, to speak truth, in base times, active

men are of more use than virtuous. It is true that in government, it

is good to use men of one rank equally: for to countenance some

extraordinarily, is to make them insolent, and the rest discontent;

because they may claim a due. But contrariwise, in favor, to use men

with much difference and election is good; for it maketh the persons

preferred more thankful, and the rest more officious: because all is

of favor. It is good discretion, not to make too much of any man at

the first; because one cannot hold out that proportion. To be governed

(as we call it) by one is not safe; for it shows softness, and gives a

freedom, to scandal and disreputation; for those, that would not

censure or speak in of a man immediately, will talk more boldly of

those that are so great with them, and thereby wound their honor.

Yet to be distracted with many is worse; for it makes men to be of the

last impression, and fun of change. To take advice of some few

friends, is ever honorable; for lookers-on many times see more than

gamesters; and the vale best discovereth the hill. There is little

friendship in the world, and least of all between equals, which was

wont to be magnified. That that is, is between superior and

inferior, whose fortunes may comprehend the one the other.

OF SUITORS

Many ill matters and projects are undertaken; and private suits do

putrefy the public good. Many good matters, are undertaken with bad

minds; I mean not only corrupt minds, but crafty minds, that intend

not performance. Some embrace suits, which never mean to deal

effectually in them; but if they see there may be life in the

matter, by some other mean, they will be content to win a thank, or

take a second reward, or at least to make use, in the meantime, of the

suitor's hopes. Some take hold of suits, only for an occasion to cross

some other; or to make an information, whereof they could not

otherwise have apt pretext; without care what become of the suit, when

that turn is served; or, generally, to make other men's business a

kind of entertainment, to bring in their own. Nay, some undertake

suits, with a full purpose to let them fall; to the end to gratify the

adverse party, or competitor. Surely there is in some sort a left

in every suit; either a left of equity, if it be a suit of

controversy; or a left of desert, if it be a suit of petition. If

affection lead a man to favor the wrong side in justice, let him

rather use his countenance to compound the matter, than to carry it.

If affection lead a man to favor the less worthy in desert, let him do

it, without depraving or disabling the better deserver. In suits which

a man doth not well understand, it is good to refer them to some

friend of trust and judgment, that may report, whether he may deal

in them with honor: but let him choose well his referendaries, for

else he may be led by the nose. Suitors are so distasted with delays

and abuses, that plain dealing, in denying to deal in suits at

first, and reporting the success barely, and in challenging no more

thanks than one hath deserved, is grown not only honorable, but also

gracious. In suits of favor, the first coming ought to take little

place: so far forth, consideration may be had of his trust, that if

intelligence of the matter could not otherwise have been had, but by

him, advantage be not taken of the note, but the party left to his

other means; and in some sort recompensed, for his discovery. To be

ignorant of the value of a suit, is simplicity; as well as to be

ignorant of the left thereof, is want of conscience. Secrecy in

suits, is a great mean of obtaining; for voicing them to be in

forwardness, may discourage some kind of suitors, but doth quicken and

awake others. But timing of the suit is the principal. Timing, I

say, not only in respect of the person that should grant it, but in

respect of those, which are like to cross it. Let a man, in the choice

of his mean, rather choose the fittest mean, than the greatest mean;

and rather them that deal in certain things, than those that are

general. The reparation of a denial, is sometimes equal to the first

grant; if a man show himself neither dejected nor discontented.

Iniquum petas ut aequum feras is a good rule, where a man hath

strength of favor: but otherwise, a man were better rise in his

suit; for he, that would have ventured at first to have lost the

suitor, will not in the conclusion lose both the suitor, and his own

former favor. Nothing is thought so easy a request to a great

person, as his letter; and yet, if it be not in a good cause, it is so

much out of his reputation. There are no worse instruments, than these

general contrivers of suits; for they are but a kind of poison, and

infection, to public proceedings.

OF STUDIES

Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their

chief use for delight, is in privateness and retiring; for ornament,

is in discourse; and for ability, is in the judgment, and

disposition of business. For expert men can execute, and perhaps judge

of particulars, one by one; but the general counsels, and the plots

and marshalling of affairs, come best, from those that are learned. To

spend too much time in studies is sloth; to use them too much for

ornament, is affectation; to make judgment wholly by their rules, is

the humor of a scholar. They perfect nature, and are perfected by

experience: for natural abilities are like natural plants, that need

proyning, by study; and studies themselves, do give forth directions

too much at large, except they be bounded in by experience. Crafty men

contemn studies, simple men admire them, and wise men use them; for

they teach not their own use; but that is a wisdom without them, and

above them, won by observation. Read not to contradict and confute;

nor to believe and take for granted; nor to find talk and discourse;

but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be

swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books

are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously;

and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention. Some

books also may be read by deputy, and extracts made of them by others;

but that would be only in the less important arguments, and the meaner

sort of books, else distilled books are like common distilled

waters, flashy things. Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready

man; and writing an exact man. And therefore, if a man write little,

he had need have a great memory; if he confer little, he had need have

a present wit: and if he read little, he had need have much cunning,

to seem to know, that he doth not. Histories make men wise; poets

witty; the mathematics subtile; natural philosophy deep; moral

grave; logic and rhetoric able to contend. Abeunt studia in mores.

Nay, there is no stond or impediment in the wit, but may be wrought

out by fit studies; like as diseases of the body, may have appropriate

exercises. Bowling is good for the stone and reins; shooting for the

lungs and breast; gentle walking for the stomach; riding for the head;

and the like. So if a man's wit be wandering, let him study the

mathematics; for in demonstrations, if his wit be called away never so

little, he must begin again. If his wit be not apt to distinguish or

find differences, let him study the Schoolmen; for they are cymini

sectores. If he be not apt to beat over matters, and to call up one

thing to prove and illustrate another, let him study the lawyers'

cases. So every defect of the mind, may have a special receipt.

OF FACTION

Many have an opinion not wise, that for a prince to govern his

estate, or for a great person to govern his proceedings, according

to the respect of factions, is a principal part of policy; whereas

contrariwise, the chiefest wisdom, is either in ordering those

things which are general, and wherein men of several factions do

nevertheless agree; or in dealing with correspondence to particular

persons, one by one. But I say not that the considerations of

factions, is to be neglected. Mean men, in their rising, must

adhere; but great men, that have strength in themselves, were better

to maintain themselves indifferent, and neutral. Yet even in

beginners, to adhere so moderately, as he be a man of the one faction,

which is most passable with the other, commonly giveth best way. The

lower and weaker faction, is the firmer in conjunction; and it is

often seen, that a few that are stiff, do tire out a greater number,

that are more moderate. When one of the factions is extinguished,

the remaining subdivideth; as the faction between Lucullus, and the

rest of the nobles of the senate (which they called Optimates) held

out awhile, against the faction of Pompey and Caesar; but when the

senate's authority was pulled down, Caesar and Pompey soon after

brake. The faction or party of Antonius and Octavianus Caesar, against

Brutus and Cassius, held out likewise for a time; but when Brutus

and Cassius were overthrown, then soon after, Antonius and

Octavianus brake and subdivided. These examples are of wars, but the

same holdeth in private factions. And therefore, those that are

seconds in factions, do many times, when the faction subdivideth,

prove principals; but many times also, they prove ciphers and

cashiered; for many a man's strength is in opposition; and when that

faileth, he groweth out of use. It is commonly seen, that men, once

placed, take in with the contrary faction, to that by which they

enter: thinking belike, that they have the first sure, and now are

ready for a new purchase. The traitor in faction, lightly goeth away

with it; for when matters have stuck long in balancing, the winning of

some one man casteth them, and he getteth all the thanks. The even

carriage between two factions, proceedeth not always of moderation,

but of a trueness to a man's self, with end to make use of both.

Certainly in Italy, they hold it a little suspect in popes, when

they have often in their mouth Padre commune: and take it to be a sign

of one, that meaneth to refer all to the greatness of his own house.

Kings had need beware, how they side themselves, and make themselves

as of a faction or party; for leagues within the state, are ever

pernicious to monarchies: for they raise an obligation, paramount to

obligation of sovereignty, and make the king tanquam unus ex nobis; as

was to be seen in the League of France. When factions are canied too

high and too violently, it is a sign of weakness in princes; and

much to the prejudice, both of their authority and business. The

motions of factions under kings ought to be, like the motions (as

the astronomers speak) of the inferior orbs, which may have their

proper motions, but yet still are quietly carried, by the higher

motion of primum mobile.

OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECT

He that is only real, had need have exceeding great parts of virtue;

as the stone had need to be rich, that is set without foil. But if a

man mark it well, it is, in praise and commendation of men, as it is

in gettings and gains: for the proverb is true, That light gains

make heavy purses; for light gains come thick, whereas great, come but

now and then. So it is true, that small matters win great

commendation, because they are continually in use and in note: whereas

the occasion of any great virtue, cometh but on festivals. Therefore

it doth much add to a man's reputation, and is (as Queen Isabella

said) like perpetual letters commendatory, to have good forms. To

attain them, it almost sufficeth not to despise them; for so shall a

man observe them in others; and let him trust himself with the rest.

For if he labor too much to express them, he shall lose their grace;

which is to be natural and unaffected. Some men's behavior is like a

verse, wherein every syllable is measured; how can a man comprehend

great matters, that breaketh his mind too much, to small observations?

Not to use ceremonies at all, is to teach others not to use them

again; and so diminisheth respect to himself; especially they be not

to be omitted, to strangers and formal natures; but the dwelling

upon them, and exalting them above the moon, is not only tedious,

but doth diminish the faith and credit of him that speaks. And

certainly, there is a kind of conveying, of effectual and imprinting

passages amongst compliments, which is of singular use, if a man can

hit upon it. Amongst a man's peers, a man shall be sure of

familiarity; and therefore it is good, a little to keep state. Amongst

a man's inferiors one shall be sure of reverence; and therefore it

is good, a little to be familiar. He that is too much in anything,

so that he giveth another occasion of satiety, maketh himself cheap.

To apply one's self to others, is good; so it be with demonstration,

that a man doth it upon regard, and not upon facility. It is a good

precept generally, in seconding another, yet to add somewhat of

one's own: as if you will grant his opinion, let it be with some

distinction; if you will follow his motion, let it be with

condition; if you allow his counsel let it be with alleging further

reason. Men had need beware, how they be too perfect in compliments;

for be they never so sufficient otherwise, their enviers will be

sure to give them that attribute, to the disadvantage of their greater

virtues. It is loss also in business, to be too full of respects, or

to be curious, in observing times and opportunities. Solomon saith, He

that considereth the wind, shall not sow, and he that looketh to the

clouds, shall not reap. A wise man will make more opportunities,

than he finds. Men's behavior should be, like their apparel, not too

strait or point device, but free for exercise or motion.

OF PRAISE

Praise is the reflection of virtue; but it is as the glass or

body, which giveth the reflection. If it be from the common people, it

is commonly false and naught; and rather followeth vain persons,

than virtuous. For the common people understand not many excellent

virtues. The lowest virtues draw praise from them; the middle

virtues work in them astonishment or admiration; but of the highest

virtues, they have no sense of perceiving at an. But shows, and

species virtutibus similes, serve best with them. Certainly fame is

like a river, that beareth up things light and swoln, and drowns

things weighty and solid. But if persons of quality and judgment

concur, then it is (as the Scripture saith) nomen bonum instar

unguenti fragrantis. It filleth all round about, and will not easily

away. For the odors of ointments are more durable, than those of

flowers. There be so many false points of praise, that a man may

justly hold it a suspect. Some praises proceed merely of flattery; and

if he be an ordinary flatterer, he will have certain common

attributes, which may serve every man; if he be a cunning flatterer,

he will follow the archflatterer, which is a man's self; and wherein a

man thinketh best of himself, therein the flatterer will uphold him

most: but if he be an impudent flatterer, look wherein a man is

conscious to himself, that he is most defective, and is most out of

countenance in himself, that will the flatterer entitle him to

perforce, spreta conscientia. Some praises come of good wishes and

respects, which is a form due, in civility, to kings and great

persons, laudando praecipere, when by telling men what they are,

they represent to them, what they should be. Some men are praised

maliciously, to their hurt, thereby to stir envy and jealousy

towards them: pessimum genus inimicorum laudantium; insomuch as it was

a proverb, amongst the Grecians, that he that was praised to his hurt,

should have a push rise upon his nose; as we say, that a blister

will rise upon one's tongue, that tells a lie. Certainly moderate

praise, used with opportunity, and not vulgar, is that which doth

the good. Solomon saith, He that praiseth his friend aloud, rising

early, it shall be to him no better than a curse. Too much

magnifying of man or matter, doth irritate contradiction, and

procure envy and scorn. To praise a man's self, cannot be decent,

except it be in rare cases; but to praise a man's office or

profession, he may do it with good grace, and with a kind of

magnanimity. The cardinals of Rome, which are theologues, and

friars, and Schoolmen, have a phrase of notable contempt and scorn

towards civil business: for they call all temporal business of wars,

embassages, judicature, and other employments, sbirrerie, which is

under-sheriffries; as if they were but matters, for under-sheriffs and

catchpoles: though many times those under-sheriffries do more good,

than their high speculations. St. Paul, when he boasts of himself,

he doth oft interlace, I speak like a fool; but speaking of his

calling, he saith, magnificabo apostolatum meum.

OF VAIN-GLORY

It was prettily devised of AEsop, The fly sat upon the axle-tree

of the chariot wheel, and said, What a dust do I raise! So are there

some vain persons, that whatsoever goeth alone, or moveth upon greater

means, if they have never so little hand in it, they think it is

they that carry it. They that are glorious, must needs be factious;

for an bravery stands upon comparisons. They must needs be violent, to

make good their own vaunts. Neither can they be secret, and

therefore not effectual; but according to the French proverb, Beaucoup

de bruit, peu de fruit; Much bruit little fruit. Yet certainly,

there is use of this quality in civil affairs. Where there is an

opinion and fame to be created, either of virtue or greatness, these

men are good trumpeters. Again, as Titus Livius noteth, in the case of

Antiochus and the AEtolians, There are sometimes great effects, of

cross lies; as if a man, that negotiates between two princes, to

draw them to join in a war against the third, doth extol the forces of

either of them, above measure, the one to the other: and sometimes

he that deals between man and man, raiseth his own credit with both,

by pretending greater interest than he hath in either. And in these

and the like kinds, it often falls out, that somewhat is produced of

nothing; for lies are sufficient to breed opinion, and opinion

brings on substance. In militar commanders and soldiers, vain-glory is

an essential point; for as iron sharpens iron, so by glory, one

courage sharpeneth another. In cases of great enterprise upon charge

and adventure, a composition of glorious natures, doth put life into

business; and those that are of solid and sober natures, have more

of the ballast, than of the sail. In fame of leaming, the flight

will be slow without some feathers of ostentation. Qui de

contemnenda gloria libros scribunt, nomen, suuminscribunt. Socrates,

Aristotle, Galen, were men full of ostentation. Certainly vain-glory

helpeth to perpetuate a man's memory; and virtue was never so

beholding to human nature, as it received his due at the second

hand. Neither had the fame of Cicero, Seneca, Plinius Secundus,

borne her age so well, if it had not been joined with some vanity in

themselves; like unto varnish, that makes ceilings not only shine

but last. But all this while, when I speak of vain-glory, I mean not

of that property, that Tacitus doth attribute to Mucianus; Omnium quae

dixerat feceratque arte quadam ostentator: for that proceeds not of

vanity, but of natural magnanimity and discretion; and in some

persons, is not only comely, but gracious. For excusations,

cessions, modesty itself well governed, are but arts of ostentation.

And amongst those arts, there is none better than that which Plinius

Secundus speaketh of, which is to be liberal of praise and

commendation to others, in that, wherein a man's self hath any

perfection. For saith Pliny, very wittily, In commending another,

you do yourself left; for he that you commend, is either superior

to you in that you commend, or inferior. If he be inferior, if he be

to be commended, you much more; if he be superior, if he be not to

be commended, you much less. Glorious men are the scorn of wise men,

the admiration of fools, the idols of parasites, and the slaves of

their own vaunts.

OF HONOR AND REPUTATION

The winning of honor, is but the revealing of a man's virtue and

worth, without disadvantage. For some in their actions, do woo and

effect honor and reputation, which sort of men, are commonly much

talked of, but inwardly little admired. And some, contrariwise, darken

their virtue in the show of it; so as they be undervalued in

opinion. If a man perform that, which hath not been attempted

before; or attempted and given over; or hath been achieved, but not

with so good circumstance; he shall purchase more honor, than by

effecting a matter of greater difficulty or virtue, wherein he is

but a follower. If a man so temper his actions, as in some one of them

he doth content every faction, or combination of people, the music

will be the fuller. A man is an ill husband of his honor, that

entereth into any action, the failing wherein may disgrace him, more

than the carrying of it through, can honor him. Honor that is gained

and broken upon another, hath the quickest reflection, like diamonds

cut with facets. And therefore, let a man contend to excel any

competitors of his in honor, in outshooting them, if he can, in

their own bow. Discreet followers and servants, help much to

reputation. Omnis fama a domesticis emanat. Envy, which is the

canker of honor, is best extinguished by declaring a man's self in his

ends, rather to seek merit than fame; and by attributing a man's

successes, rather to divine Providence and felicity, than to his own

virtue or policy.

The true marshalling of the degrees of sovereign honor, are these:

In the first place are conditores imperiorum, founders of states and

commonwealths; such as were Romulus, Cyrus, Caesar, Ottoman, Ismael.

In the second place are legislatores, lawgivers; which are also called

second founders, or perpetui principes, because they govern by their

ordinances after they are gone; such were Lycurgus, Solon,

Justinian, Eadgar, Alphonsus of Castile, the Wise, that made the Siete

Partidas. In the third place are liberatores, or salvatores, such as

compound the long miseries of civil wars, or deliver their countries

from servitude of strangers or tyrants; as Augustus Caesar,

Vespasianus, Aurelianus, Theodoricus, King Henry the Seventh of

England, King Henry the Fourth of France. In the fourth place are

propagatores or propugnatores imperii; such as in honorable wars

enlarge their territories, or make noble defence against invaders. And

in the last place are patres patriae; which reign justly, and make the

times good wherein they live. Both which last kinds need no

examples, they are in such number. Degrees of honor, in subjects, are,

first participes curarum, those upon whom, princes do discharge the

greatest weight of their affairs; their left hands, as we call

them. The next are duces belli, great leaders in war; such as are

princes' lieutenants, and do them notable services in the wars. The

third are gratiosi, favorites; such as exceed not this scantling, to

be solace to the sovereign, and harmless to the people. And the

fourth, negotiis pares; such as have great places under princes, and

execute their places, with sufficiency. There is an honor, likewise,

which may be ranked amongst the greatest, which happeneth rarely; that

is, of such as sacrifice themselves to death or danger for the good of

their country; as was M. Regulus, and the two Decii.

OF JUDICATURE

Judges ought to remember, that their office is jus dicere, and not

jus dare; to interpret law, and not to make law, or give law. Else

will it be like the authority, claimed by the Church of Rome, which

under pretext of exposition of Scripture, doth not stick to add and

alter; and to pronounce that which they do not find; and by show of

antiquity, to introduce novelty. Judges ought to be more learned, than

witty, more reverend, than plausible, and more advised, than

confident. Above all things, integrity is their portion and proper

virtue. Cursed (saith the law) is he that removeth the landmark. The

mislayer of a mere-stone is to blame. But it is the unjust judge, that

is the capital remover of landmarks, when he defineth amiss, of

lands and property. One foul sentence doth more hurt, than many foul

examples. For these do but corrupt the stream, the other corrupteth

the fountain. So with Solomon, Fons turbatus, et vena corrupta, est

justus cadens in causa sua coram adversario. The office of judges

may have reference unto the parties that use, unto the advocates

that plead, unto the clerks and ministers of justice underneath

them, and to the sovereign or state above them.

First, for the causes or parties that sue. There be (saith the

Scripture) that turn judgment, into wormwood; and surely there be

also, that turn it into vinegar; for injustice maketh it bitter, and

delays make it sour. The principal duty of a judge, is to suppress

force and fraud; whereof force is the more pernicious, when it is

open, and fraud, when it is close and disguised. Add thereto

contentious suits, which ought to be spewed out, as the surfeit of

courts. A judge ought to prepare his way to a just sentence, as God

useth to prepare his way, by raising valleys and taking down hills: so

when there appeareth on either side an high hand, violent prosecution,

cunning advantages taken, combination, power, great counsel, then is

the virtue of a judge seen, to make inequality equal; that he may

plant his judgment as upon an even ground. Qui fortiter emungit,

elicit sanguinem; and where the wine-press is hard wrought, it

yields a harsh wine, that tastes of the grape-stone. Judges must

beware of hard constructions, and strained inferences; for there is no

worse torture, than the torture of laws. Specially in case of laws

penal, they ought to have care, that that was meant for terror, be not

turned into rigor; and that they bring not upon the people, that

shower whereof the Scripture speaketh, Pluet super eos laqueos; for

penal laws pressed, are a shower of snares upon the people.

Therefore let penal laws, if they have been sleepers of long, or if

they be grown unfit for the present time, be by wise judges confined

in the execution: Judicis officium est, ut res, ita tempora rerum,

etc. In causes of life and death, judges ought (as far as the law

permitteth) in justice to remember mercy; and to cast a severe eye

upon the example, but a merciful eye upon the person.

Secondly, for the advocates and counsel that plead. Patience and

gravity of hearing, is an essential part of justice; and an

overspeaking judge is no well-tuned cymbal. It is no grace to a judge,

first to find that, which he might have heard in due time from the

bar; or to show quickness of conceit, in cutting off evidence or

counsel too short; or to prevent information by questions, -though

pertinent. The parts of a judge in hearing, are four: to direct the

evidence; to moderate length, repetition, or impertinency of speech;

to recapitulate, select, and collate the material points, of that

which hath been said; and to give the rule or sentence. Whatsoever

is above these is too much; and proceedeth either of glory, and

willingness to speak, or of impatience to hear, or of shortness of

memory, or of want of a staid and equal attention. It is a strange

thing to see, that the boldness of advocates should prevail with

judges; whereas they should imitate God, in whose seat they sit; who

represseth the presumptuous, and giveth grace to the modest. But it is

more strange, that judges should have noted favorites; which cannot

but cause multiplication of fees, and suspicion of by-ways. There is

due from the judge to the advocate, some commendation and gracing,

where causes are well handled and fair pleaded; especially towards the

side which obtaineth not; for that upholds in the client, the

reputation of his counsel, and beats down in him the conceit of his

cause. There is likewise due to the public, a civil reprehension of

advocates, where there appeareth cunning counsel, gross neglect,

slight information, indiscreet pressing, or an overbold defence. And

let not the counsel at the bar, chop with the judge, nor wind

himself into the handling of the cause anew, after the judge hath

declared his sentence; but, on the other side, let not the judge

meet the cause half way, nor give occasion to the party, to say his

counsel or proofs were not heard.

Thirdly, for that that clerks and ministers. The place of justice is

an hallowed place; and therefore not only the bench, but the

foot-place; and precincts and purprise thereof, ought to be

preserved without scandal and corruption. For certainly grapes (as the

Scripture saith) will not be gathered of thorns or thistles; either

can justice yield her fruit with sweetness, amongst the briars and

brambles of catching and polling clerks, and ministers. The attendance

of courts, is subject to four bad instruments. First, certain

persons that are sowers of suits; which make the court swell, and

the country pine. The second sort is of those, that engage courts in

quarrels of jurisdiction, and are not truly amici curiae, but parasiti

curiae, in puffing a court up beyond her bounds, for their own

scraps and advantage. The third sort, is of those that may be

accounted the left hands of courts; persons that are full of nimble

and sinister tricks and shifts, whereby they pervert the plain and

direct courses of courts, and bring justice into oblique lines and

labyrinths. And the fourth, is the poller and exacter of fees; which

justifies the common resemblance of the courts of justice, to the bush

whereunto, while the sheep flies for defence in weather, he is sure to

lose part of his fleece. On the other side, an ancient clerk,

skilful in precedents, wary in proceeding, and understanding in the

business of the court, is an excellent finger of a court; and doth

many times point the way to the judge himself.

Fourthly, for that which may concern the sovereign and estate.

Judges ought above all to remember the conclusion of the Roman

Twelve Tables; Salus populi suprema lex; and to know that laws, except

they be in order to that end, are but things captious, and oracles not

well inspired. Therefore it is an happy thing in a state, when kings

and states do often consult with judges; and again, when judges do

often consult with the king and state: the one, when there is matter

of law, intervenient in business of state; the other, when there is

some consideration of state, intervenient in matter of law. For many

times the things deduced to judgment may be meum and tuum, when the

reason and consequence thereof may trench to point of estate: I call

matter of estate, not only the parts of sovereignty, but whatsoever

introduceth any great alteration, or dangerous precedent; or

concerneth manifestly any great portion of people. And let no man

weakly conceive, that just laws and true policy have any antipathy;

for they are like the spirits and sinews, that one moves with the

other. Let judges also remember, that Solomon's throne was supported

by lions on both sides: let them be lions, but yet lions under the

throne; being circumspect that they do not check or oppose any

points of sovereignty. Let not judges also be ignorant of their own

left, as to think there is not left to them, as a principal part of

their office, a wise use and application of laws. For they may

remember, what the apostle saith of a greater law than theirs; Nos

scimus quia lex bona est, modo quis ea utatur legitime.

OF ANGER

To seek to extinguish anger utterly, is but a bravery of the Stoics.

We have better oracles: Be angry, but sin not. Let not the sun go down

upon your anger. Anger must be limited and confined, both in race

and in time. We will first speak how the natural inclination and habit

to be angry, may be attempted and calmed. Secondly, how the particular

motions of anger may be repressed, or at least refrained from doing

mischief. Thirdly, how to raise anger, or appease anger in another.

For the first; there is no other way but to meditate, and ruminate

well upon the effects of anger, how it troubles man's life. And the

best time to do this, is to look back upon anger, when the fit is

thoroughly over. Seneca saith well, That anger is like ruin, which

breaks itself upon that it falls. The Scripture exhorteth us to

possess our souls in patience. Whosoever is out of patience, is out of

possession of his soul. Men must not turn bees;

... animasque in vulnere ponunt.

Anger is certainly a kind of baseness; as it appears well in the

weakness of those subjects in whom it reigns; children, women, old

folks, sick folks. Only men must beware, that they carry their anger

rather with scorn, than with fear; so that they may seem rather to

be above the injury, than below it; which is a thing easily done, if a

man will give law to himself in it.

For the second point; the causes and motives of anger, are chiefly

three. First, to be too sensible of hurt; for no man is angry, that

feels not himself hurt; and therefore tender and delicate persons must

needs be oft angry; they have so many things to trouble them, which

more robust natures have little sense of. The next is, the

apprehension and construction of the injury offered, to be, in the

circumstances thereof, full of contempt: for contempt is that, which

putteth an edge upon anger, as much or more than the hurt itself.

And therefore, when men are ingenious in picking out circumstances

of contempt, they do kindle their anger much. Lastly, opinion of the

touch of a man's reputation, doth multiply and sharpen anger.

Wherein the remedy is, that a man should have, as Consalvo was wont to

say, telam honoris crassiorem. But in all refrainings of anger, it

is the best remedy to win time; and to make a man's self believe, that

the opportunity of his revenge is not yet come, but that he foresees a

time for it; and so to still himself in the meantime, and reserve it.

To contain anger from mischief, though it take hold of a man,

there be two things, whereof you must have special caution. The one,

of extreme bitterness of words, especially if they be aculeate and

proper; for cummunia maledicta are nothing so much; and again, that in

anger a man reveal no secrets; for that, makes him not fit for

society. The other, that you do not peremptorily break off, in any

business, in a fit of anger; but howsoever you show bitterness, do not

act anything, that is not revocable.

For raising and appeasing anger in another; it is done chiefly by

choosing of times, when men are frowardest and worst disposed, to

incense them. Again, by gathering (as was touched before) all that you

can find out, to aggravate the contempt. And the two remedies are by

the contraries. The former to take good times, when first to relate to

a man an angry business; for the first impression is much; and the

other is, to sever, as much as may be, the construction of the

injury from the point of contempt; imputing it to misunderstanding,

fear, passion, or what you will.

OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS

Solomon saith, There is no new thing upon the earth. So that as

Plato had an imagination, That all knowledge was but remembrance; so

Solomon giveth his sentence, That all novelty is but oblivion. Whereby

you may see, that the river of Lethe runneth as well above ground as

below. There is an abstruse astrologer that saith, If it were not

for two things that are constant (the one is, that the fixed stars

ever stand a like distance one from another, and never come nearer

together, nor go further asunder; the other, that the diurnal motion

perpetually keepeth time), no individual would last one moment.

Certain it is, that the matter is in a perpetual flux, and never at

a stay. The great winding-sheets, that bury all things in oblivion,

are two; deluges and earthquakes. As for conflagrations and great

droughts, they do not merely dispeople and destroy. Phadton's car went

but a day. And the three years' drought in the time of Elias, was

but particular, and left people alive. As for the great burnings by

lightnings, which are often in the West Indies, they are but narrow.

But in the other two destructions, by deluge and earthquake, it is

further to be noted, that the remnant of people which hap to be

reserved, are commonly ignorant and mountainous people, that can

give no account of the time past; so that the oblivion is all one,

as if none had been left. If you consider well of the people of the

West Indies, it is very probable that they are a newer or a younger

people, than the people of the Old World. And it is much more

likely, that the destruction that hath heretofore been there, was

not by earthquakes (as the Egyptian priest told Solon concerning the

island of Atlantis, that it was swallowed by an earthquake), but

rather that it was desolated by a particular deluge. For earthquakes

are seldom in those parts. But on the other side, they have such

pouring rivers, as the rivers of Asia and Africk and Europe, are but

brooks to them. Their Andes, likewise, or mountains, are far higher

than those with us; whereby it seems, that the remnants of

generation of men, were in such a particular deluge saved. As for

the observation that Machiavel hath, that the jealousy of sects,

doth much extinguish the memory of things; traducing Gregory the

Great, that he did what in him lay, to extinguish all heathen

antiquities; I do not find that those zeals do any great effects,

nor last long; as it appeared in the succession of Sabinian, who did

revive the former antiquities.

The vicissitude of mutations in the superior globe, are no fit

matter for this present argument. It may be, Plato's great year, if

the world should last so long, would have some effect; not in renewing

the state of like individuals (for that is the fume of those, that

conceive the celestial bodies have more accurate influences upon these

things below, than indeed they have), but in gross. Comets, out of

question, have likewise power and effect, over the gross and mass of

things; but they are rather gazed upon, and waited upon in their

journey, than wisely observed in their effects; specially in their

respective effects; that is, what kind of comet, for magnitude, color,

version of the beams, placing in the reign of heaven, or lasting,

produceth what kind of effects.

There is a toy which I have heard, and I would not have it given

over, but waited upon a little. They say it is observed in the Low

Countries (I know not in what part) that every five and thirty

years, the same kind and suit of years and weathers come about

again; as great frosts, great wet, great droughts, warm winters,

summers with little heat, and the like; and they call it the Prime. It

is a thing I do the rather mention, because, computing backwards, I

have found some concurrence.

But to leave these points of nature, and to come to men. greatest

vicissitude of things amongst men, is the vicissitude of sects and

religions. For those orbs rule in men's minds most. The true

religion is built upon the rock; the rest are tossed, upon the waves

of time. To speak, therefore, of the causes of new sects; and to

give some counsel concerning them, as far as the weakness of human

judgment can give stay, to so great revolutions.

When the religion formerly received, is rent by discords; and when

the holiness of the professors of religion, is decayed and full of

scandal; and withal the times be stupid, ignorant, and barbarous;

you may doubt the springing up of a new sect; if then also, there

should arise any extravagant and strange spirit, to make himself

author thereof. All which points held, when Mahomet published his law.

If a new sect have not two properties, fear it not; for it will not

spread. The one is the supplanting, or the opposing, of authority

established; for nothing is more popular than that. The other is the

giving license to pleasures, and a voluptuous life. For as for

speculative heresies (such as were in ancient times the Arians, and

now the Arminians), though they work mightily upon men's wits, yet

they do not produce any great alterations in states; except it be by

the help of civil occasions. There be three manner of plantations of

new sects. By the power of signs and miracles; by the eloquence, and

wisdom, of speech and persuasion; and by the sword. For martyrdoms,

I reckon them amongst miracles; because they seem to exceed the

strength of human nature: and I may do the like, of superlative and

admirable holiness of life. Surely there is no better way, to stop the

rising of new sects and schisms, than to reform abuses; to compound

the smaller differences; to proceed mildly, and not with sanguinary

persecutions; and rather to take off the principal authors by

winning and advancing them, than to enrage them by violence and

bitterness.

The changes and vicissitude in wars are many; but chiefly in three

things; in the seats or stages of the war; in the weapons; and in

the manner of the conduct. Wars in ancient time, seemed more to move

from east to west; for the Persians, Assyrians, Arabians, Tartars

(which were the invaders) were all eastern people. It is true, the

Gauls were western; but we read but of two incursions of theirs: the

one to Gallo-Grecia, the other to Rome. But east and west have no

certain points of heaven; and no more have the wars either from the

east or west, any certainty of observation. But north and south are

fixed; and it hath seldom or never been seen that the far southern

people have invaded the northern, but contrariwise. Whereby it is

manifest that the northern tract of the world, is in nature the more

martial region: be it in respect of the stars of that hemisphere; or

of the great continents that are upon the north, whereas the south

part, for aught that is known, is almost all sea; or (which is most

apparent) of the cold of the northern parts, which is that which,

without aid of discipline, doth make the bodies hardest, and the

courages warmest.

Upon the breaking and shivering of a great state and empire, you may

be sure to have wars. For great empires, while they stand, do enervate

and destroy the forces of the natives which they have subdued, resting

upon their own protecting forces; and then when they fail also, all

goes to ruin, and they become a prey. So was it in the decay of the

Roman empire; and likewise in the empire of Almaigne, after Charles

the Great, every bird taking a feather; and were not unlike to

befall to Spain, if it should break. The great accessions and unions

of kingdoms, do likewise stir up wars; for when a state grows to an

over-power, it is like a great flood, that will be sure to overflow.

As it hath been seen in the states of Rome, Turkey, Spain, and others.

Look when the world hath fewest barbarous peoples, but such as

commonly will not marry or generate, except they know means to live

(as it is almost everywhere at this day, except Tartary), there is

no danger of inundations of people; but when there be great shoals

of people, which go on to populate, without foreseeing means of life

and sustentation, it is of necessity that once in an age or two,

they discharge a portion of their people upon other nations; which the

ancient northern people were wont to do by lot; casting lots what part

should stay at home, and what should seek their fortunes. When a

warlike state grows soft and effeminate, they may be sure of a war.

For commonly such states are grown rich in the time of their

degenerating; and so the prey inviteth, and their decay in valor,

encourageth a war.

As for the weapons, it hardly falleth under rule and observation:

yet we see even they, have returns and vicissitudes. For certain it

is, that ordnance was known in the city of the Oxidrakes in India; and

was that, which the Macedonians called thunder and lightning, and

magic. And it is well known that the use of ordnance, hath been in

China above two thousand years. The conditions of weapons, and their

improvement, are; First, the fetching afar off; for that outruns the

danger; as it is seen in ordnance and muskets. Secondly, the

strength of the percussion; wherein likewise ordnance do exceed all

arietations and ancient inventions. The third is, the commodious use

of them; as that they may serve in all weathers; that the carriage may

be light and manageable; and the like.

For the conduct of the war: at the first, men rested extremely

upon number: they did put the wars likewise upon main force and valor;

pointing days for pitched fields, and so trying it out upon an even

match and they were more ignorant in ranging and arraying their

battles. After, they grew to rest upon number rather competent, than

vast; they grew to advantages of place, cunning diversions, and the

like: and they grew more skilful in the ordering of their battles.

In the youth of a state, arms do flourish; in the middle age of a

state, learning; and then both of them together for a time; in the

declining age of a state, mechanical arts and merchandize. Learning

hath his infancy, when it is but beginning and almost childish; then

his youth, when it is luxuriant and juvenile; then his strength of

years, when it is solid and reduced; and lastly, his old age, when

it waxeth dry and exhaust. But it is not good to look too long upon

these turning wheels of vicissitude, lest we become giddy. As for

the philology of them, that is but a circle of tales, and therefore

not fit for this writing.

OF FAME

The poets make Fame a monster. They describe her in part finely

and elegantly, and in part gravely and sententiously. They say, look

how many feathers she hath, so many eyes she hath underneath; so

many tongues; so many voices; she pricks up so many ears.

This is a flourish. There follow excellent parables; as that, she

gathereth strength in going; that she goeth upon the ground, and yet

hideth her head in the clouds; that in the daytime she sitteth in a

watch tower, and flieth most by night; that she mingleth things

done, with things not done; and that she is a terror to great

cities. But that which passeth all the rest is: They do recount that

the Earth, mother of the giants that made war against Jupiter, and

were by him destroyed, thereupon in an anger brought forth Fame. For

certain it is, that rebels, figured by the giants, and seditious fames

and libels, are but brothers and sisters, masculine and feminine.

But now, if a man can tame this monster, and bring her to feed at

the hand, and govern her, and with her fly other ravening fowl and

kill them, it is somewhat worth. But we are infected with the style of

the poets. To speak now in a sad and serious manner: There is not,

in all the politics, a place less handled and more worthy to be

handled, than this of fame. We will therefore speak of these points:

What are false fames; and what are true fames; and how they may be

best discerned; how fames may be sown, and raised; how they may be

spread, and multiplied; and how they may be checked, and laid dead.

And other things concerning the nature of fame. Fame is of that force,

as there is scarcely any great action, wherein it hath not a great

part; especially in the war. Mucianus undid Vitellius, by a fame

that he scattered, that Vitellius had in purpose to remove the legions

of Syria into Germany, and the legions of Germany into Syria;

whereupon the legions of Syria were infinitely inflamed. Julius Caesar

took Pompey unprovided, and laid asleep his industry and preparations,

by a fame that he cunningly gave out: Caesar's own soldiers loved

him not, and being wearied with the wars, and laden with the spoils of

Gaul, would forsake him, as soon as he came into Italy. Livia

settled all things for the succession of her son Tiberius, by

continual giving out, that her husband Augustus was upon recovery

and amendment, and it is an usual thing with the pashas, to conceal

the death of the Great Turk from the janizaries and men of war, to

save the sacking of Constantinople and other towns, as their manner

is. Themistocles made Xerxes, king of Persia, post apace out of

Grecia, by giving out, that the Grecians had a purpose to break his

bridge of ships, which he had made athwart Hellespont. There be a

thousand such like examples; and the more they are, the less they need

to be repeated; because a man meeteth with them everywhere.

Therefore let all wise governors have as great a watch and care over

fames, as they have of the actions and designs themselves.

[This essay was not finished]

GLOSSARY

A GLOSSARY OF ARCHAIC WORDS AND PHRASES

Abridgment: miniature

Absurd: stupid, unpolished

Abuse: cheat, deceive

Aculeate: stinging

Adamant: loadstone

Adust: scorched

Advoutress: adultress

Affect: like, desire

Antic: clown

Appose: question

Arietation: battering-ram

Audit: revenue

Avoidance: secret outlet

Battle: battalion

Bestow: settle in life

Blanch: flatter, evade

Brave: boastful

Bravery: boast, ostentation

Broke: deal in brokerage

Broken: shine by comparison

Broken music: part music

Cabinet: secret

Calendar: weather forecast

Card: chart, map

Care not to: are reckless

Cast: plan

Cat: cate, cake

Charge and adventure: cost and risk

Check with: interfere

Chop: bandy words

Civil: peaceful

Close: secret, secretive

Collect: infer

Compound: compromise

Consent: agreement

Curious: elaborate

Custom: import duties

Deceive: rob

Derive: divert

Difficileness: moroseness

Discover: reveal

Donative: money gift

Doubt: fear

Equipollent: equally powerful

Espial: spy

Estate: state

Facility: of easy persuasion

Fair: rather

Fame: rumor

Favor: feature

Flashy: insipid

Foot-pace: lobby

Foreseen: guarded against

Froward: stubborn

Futile: babbling

Globe: complete body

Glorious: showy, boastful

Humorous: capricious

Hundred poll: hundredth head

Impertinent: irrelevant

Implicit: entangled

In a mean: in moderation

Insmoother: suppressed

Indifferent: impartial

Intend: attend to

Knap: knoll

Leese: lose

Let: hinder

Loose: shot

Lot: spell

Lurch: intercept

Make: profit, get

Manage: train

Mate: conquer

Material: business-like

Mere-stone: boundary stone

Muniting: fortifying

Nerve: sinew

Obnoxious: subservient, liable

Oes: round spangles

Pair: impair

Pardon: allowance

Passable: mediocre

Pine-apple-tree: pine

Plantation: colony

Platform: plan

Plausible: praiseworthy

Point device: excessively precise

Politic: politician

Poll: extort

Poser: examiner

Practice: plotting

Preoccupate: anticipate

Prest: prepared

Prick: plant

Proper: personal

Prospective: steroscope

Proyne: prune

Purprise: enclosure

Push: pimple

Quarrel: pretext

Quech: flinch

Reason: principle

Recamera: retiring-room

return: reaction

Return: wing running back

Rise: dignity

Round: straight

Save: account for

Scantling: measure

Seel: blind

shrewd: mischievous

Sort: associate

Spial: spy

Staddle: sapling

Steal: do secretly

Stirp: family

Stond: stop, stand

Stove: hot-housed

Style: title

Success: outcome

Sumptuary law: law against extravagance

Superior globe: the heavens

Temper: proportion

Tendering: nursing

Tract: line, trait

Travel: travail, labor

Treaties: treatises

Trench to: touch

Trivial: common

Turquet: Turkish dwarf

Under foot: below value

Unready: untrained

Usury: interest

Value: certify

Virtuous: able

Votary: vowed

Wanton: spoiled

Wood: maze

Work: manage, utilize

.