m 
 
 I 

 
 GDEN 
 
 L
 
 - , 
 
 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 WITH 
 
 ANNOTATIONS 
 
 BY 
 
 RICHARD WHATELY, D.D. 
 
 ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN. 
 
 FIFTH EDITION, REFISED AND ENLARGED. 
 
 LONDON : 
 JOHN W. PARKER AND SON, WEST STRAND. 
 
 1860.
 
 lOKDOlf : 
 
 SATILL AND BDWAHPK, PRINTERS, CHANDOS-STBKET, 
 COTEMT-6AKDBV.
 
 Stack 
 
 Annex 
 
 wss; 
 i&(oc3 
 
 v.2> 
 PREFACE. 
 
 TTAVING been accustomed to write down, from time to 
 --*- time, such observations as occurred to me on several of 
 Bacon's Essays, and also to make references to passages in 
 various books which relate to the same subjects, I have been 
 induced to lay the whole before the Public in an Edition of 
 these Essays. And in this I have availed myself of the 
 assistance of a friend, who, besides offering several valuable 
 suggestions, kindly undertook the task of revising and arrang- 
 ing the loose notes I had written down, and adding, in foot- 
 notes, explanations of obsolete words and phrases. These 
 notes are calculated, I think, to throw light on the language 
 not only of Bacon's Essays, but also of our Authorized Version 
 of the Scriptures, which belongs to the same Age. There are, 
 in that language, besides some few words that are now wholly 
 obsolete, many times more (as is remarked in the 'Annotations' 
 on Essay XXIV.) which are now as commonly in use as ever, 
 but with a change in their meaning, which makes them far more 
 likely to mislead than those quite obsolete. 1 
 
 In order to guard against the imputation of presumption in 
 venturing to make additions to what Bacon has said on several 
 subjects, it is necessary to call attention to the circumstance 
 that the word ESSAY has been considerably changed in its 
 application since the days of Bacon. By an Essay was origi- 
 nally meant according to the obvious and natural sense of the 
 word a slight sketch, to be filled up by the reader ; brief 
 hints, designed to be followed out ; loose thoughts on some 
 
 1 There is a very useful little work by the Rev. Mr. Booker, a Vocabulary of 
 the Obsolete Words and Phrases in our Version. It is a manual which no reader ot 
 the Bible ought to be without.
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 subjects, thrown out without much regularity, but sufficient to 
 suggest further inquiries and reflections. Any more elaborate, 
 regular, and finished composition, such as, in our days, often 
 bears the title of an Essay, our ancestors called a treatise, 
 tractate, dissertation, or discourse. But the more unpretending 
 title of ' Essay' has in great measure superseded those others 
 which were formerly in use, and more strictly appropriate. 
 
 I have adverted to this circumstance, because it ought to be 
 remembered that an Essay, in the original and strict sense of 
 the word, an Essay such as Bacon's, and also Montaigne's, 
 was designed to be suggestive of further remarks and reflections, 
 and, in short, to set the reader a-thinking on the subject. It 
 consisted of observations loosely thrown out, as in conversation ; 
 and inviting, as in conversation, the observations of others on the 
 subject. With an Essay, in the modern sense of the word, it 
 is not so. If the reader of what was designed to be a regular 
 and complete treatise on some subject (and which would have 
 been so entitled by our forefathers) makes additional remarks 
 on that subject, he may be understood to imply that there is a 
 deficiency and imperfection a something wanting in the 
 work before him ; whereas, to suggest such further remarks to 
 give outlines that the reader shall fill up for himself is the very 
 object of an Essay, properly so called such as those of Bacon. 
 A commentary to explain or correct, few writings need less: 
 but they admit of, and call for, expansion and development. 
 They are gold-ingots, not needing to be gilt or polished, but 
 requiring to be hammered out in order to display their full 
 value. 
 
 He is, throughout, and especially in his Essays, one of the 
 most suggestive authors that ever wrote. And it is remarkable 
 that, compressed and pithy as the Essays are, and consisting 
 chiefly of brief hints, he has elsewhere condensed into a still 
 smaller compass the matter of most of them. In his Rhetoric 
 he has drawn up what he calls ' Antitheta,' or common-places, 
 ' locos,' i.e. pros and cons, opposite sentiments and reasons, on
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 various points, mo^t of them the same that are discussed in the 
 Essays. It is a compendious and clear mode of bringing 
 before the mind the most important points in any question, to 
 place in parallel columns, as Bacon has done, whatever can be 
 plausibly urged, fairly, or unfairly, on opposite sides ; and then 
 you are in the condition of a judge who has to decide some 
 cause after having heard all the pleadings. I have accordingly 
 appended to most of the Essays some of Bacon's ' Antitheta' on 
 the same subjects. 
 
 Several of these ' Antitheta ' were either adopted by Bacon 
 from proverbial use, or have (through him) become Proverbs. 1 
 And, accordingly, I prefixed a brief remark (which I here 
 insert) to the selection from Bacon's ' Antitheta ' appended to 
 the Elements of Rhetoric. For, all the writers on the sub- 
 ject that I have met with (several of them learned, ingenious, 
 and entertaining) have almost entirely overlooked what appears 
 to me the real character, and proper office, of Proverbs. 
 
 ' Considering that Proverbs have been current in all ages and 
 countries, it is a curious circumstance that so much difference 
 of opinion should exist as to the utility, and as to the design 
 of them. Some are accustomed to speak as if Proverbs con- 
 tained a sort of concentrated essence of the wisdom of all Ages, 
 which will enable any one to judge and act aright on every 
 emergency. Others, on the contrary, represent them as fit 
 only to furnish occasionally a motto for a book, a theme for a 
 school-boy's exercise, or a copy for children learning to 
 write. 
 
 * To me, both these opinions appear erroneous. 
 
 ' That Proverbs are not generally regarded, by those who use 
 
 1 There is appended to Prof. Sullivan's Spelling-book superseded, a collec- 
 tion (which is also published separate) of PEOVEKBS for Copy-lines, with short 
 explanations annexed, for the use of young people. As a child can hardly fail to 
 learn hy heart, without effort or design, words which he has written, over and over, 
 as an exercise in penmanship, if these words contain something worth rernemhering, 
 this is so much clear gain.
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 them, as, necessarily, propositions of universal and acknow- 
 ledged truth, like mathematical axioms, is plain from the cir- 
 cumstance that many of those most in use are like these 
 common-places of Bacon opposed to each other; as e.g. 
 f Take care of the pence, and the pounds "will take care of 
 themselves / to * Be not penny- wise and pound-foolish / and 
 again, ' The more haste, the worse speed / or, ' Wait awhile, 
 that we may make an end the sooner / to ' Take Time by the 
 forelock/ or ' Time and tide for no man bide/ &c. 
 
 'It seems, I think, to be practically understood, that a 
 Proverb is merely a compendious expression of some principle, 
 which will usually be, in different cases, and with or without 
 certain modifications, true or false, applicable or inapplicable. 
 When then a Proverb is introduced, the speaker usually 
 employs it as a Major-premise, and is understood to imply, 
 as a Minor, that the principle thus referred to is applicable in 
 the existing case. And what is gained by the employment of 
 the Proverb, is, that his judgment, and his reason for it, are 
 conveyed through the use of a well-known form of expression, 
 clearly, and at the same time in an incomparably shorter space, 
 than if he had had to explain his meaning in expressions 
 framed for the occasion. And the brevity thus obtained is 
 often still further increased by suppressing the full statement 
 even of the very Proverb itself, if a very common one, and 
 merely alluding to it in a word or two. 
 
 'Proverbs accordingly are somewhat analogous to those 
 medical Formulas which, being in frequent use, are kept 
 ready-made-up in the chemists' shops, and which often save 
 the framing of a distinct Prescription. 
 
 ' And the usefulness of this brevity will not be thought, by 
 any one well conversant with Reasoning, to consist merely in 
 the saving of breath, paper, or time. Brevity, when it does 
 not cause obscurity, conduces much to the opposite effect, and 
 causes the meaning to be far more clearly apprehended than it 
 would have been in a longer expression. More than half the 
 cases, probably, in which men either misapprehend what is said,
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 or confuse one question with another, or are misled by any 
 fallacy, are traceable in great measure to a want of sufficient 
 conciseness of expression.' 
 
 Perhaps it may be thought by some to be a superfluous task 
 to say anything at all concerning a work which has been in 
 most people's hands for about two centuries and a-half, and 
 has, in that time, rather gained than lost in popularity. But 
 there are some qualities in Bacon's writings to which it is 
 important to direct, from time to time, especial attention, on 
 account of a tendency often showing itself, and not least at the 
 present day, to regard with excessive admiration writers of a 
 completely opposite character; those of a mystical, dim, half- 
 intelligible kind of affected grandeur. 1 
 
 ' It is well known what a reproach to our climate is the 
 prevalence of fogs, and how much more of risk and of incon- 
 venience results from that mixture of light and obscurity 
 than from the darkness of night. But let any one imagine to 
 himself, if he can, a mist so resplendent with gay prismatic 
 colours, that men should forget its inconveniences in their 
 admiration of its beauty, and that a kind of nebular taste 
 should prevail, for preferring that gorgeous dimness to vulgar 
 daylight ; nothing short of this could afford a parallel to the 
 mischief done to the public mind by some late writers both 
 in England and America ; a sort of ' Children of the Mist,' 
 who bring forward their speculations often very silly, and not 
 seldom very mischievous under cover of the twilight. They 
 have accustomed their disciples to admire as a style sublimely 
 philosophical, what may best be described as a certain haze of 
 words imperfectly understood, through which some seemingly 
 original ideas, scarcely distinguishable in their outlines, loom, 
 as it were, on the view, in a kind of dusky magnificence, that 
 greatly exaggerates their real dimensions.' 
 
 1 The passages that follow are chiefly extracted from No. 29 of the Cautions for 
 the Times ; of which I may be permitted to say, as it was not written by myself 
 that a more admirable composition, both in matter and style, I never met with.
 
 Vlii PREFACE. 
 
 In the October number of the Edinburgh Review, 1851 
 (p. 513), the reviewer, though evidently disposed to regard with 
 some favour a style of dim and mystical sublimity, remarks, that 
 ' a strange notion, which many have adopted of late years, is that 
 a poem cannot be profound unless it is, in whole or in part, 
 obscure ; the people like their prophets to foam and speak 
 riddles/ 
 
 But the reviewer need not have confined his remark to 
 poetry; a similar taste prevails in reference to prose writers 
 also. ' I have ventured,' says the late Bishop Copleston (in a 
 letter published in the Memoir of him by his nephew), ' to give 
 the whole class the appellation of the ' magic-lanthorn school,' 
 for, their writings have the startling effect of that toy ; children 
 delight in it, and grown people soon get tired of it/ 
 
 The passages here subjoined, from modern works in some 
 repute, may serve as specimens (and a multitude of such might 
 have been added) of the kind of style alluded to : 
 
 ' In truth, then, the idea (call it that of day or that of 
 night) is threefold, not twofold : day, night, and their rela- 
 tion. Day is the thesis, night the antithesis, their relation 
 the mesothesis of the triad, for triad it is, and not a mere 
 pair or duad, after all. It is the same with all the other 
 couples cited above, and with all couples, for every idea is a 
 trinitarian. Positive pole, negative one, and that middle term 
 wherein they are made one ; sun, planet, their relation ; solar 
 atom, planetary one, their conjunction, and so forth. The term 
 of relation betwixt the opposites in these ideal pairs is some- 
 times called the point of indifference, the mesoteric point, the 
 mid-point. This mid-point is to be seen standing betwixt its 
 right and left fellow-elements in every dictionary : for example, 
 men, man, women ; or adjectively, male, human, female. ' So 
 God created man in His own image : in the image of God 
 created He him ; male and female created He them/ ' 
 
 ' Now, this threefold constitution of ideas is universal. As 
 all things seem to go in pairs to sense, and to the understand-
 
 PREFACE. IX 
 
 ing, so all are seen in threes by reason. This law of antinomy 
 is no limited, no planetary law, nor yet peculiarly human ; it is 
 cosmical, all-embracing, ideal, divine. Not only is it impossible 
 for man to think beauty without simultaneously thinking de- 
 formity and their point of indifference, justice without injustice 
 and theirs, unity without multiplicity and theirs, but those 
 several theses (beauty, justice, unity, namely) cannot be thought 
 without these their antitheses, and without the respective 
 middle terms of the pairs. As the eye of common-sense cannot 
 have an inside without an outside, nor a solar orb without a 
 planetary orbicle (inasmuch as it ceases to be solar the instant 
 it is stript of its planet), so the eye of reason cannot see an 
 inside without seeing an outside, and also their connexion as 
 the inside and the outside of one and the same thing, nor a 
 sun without his planet and their synthesis in a solar system. 
 In short, three-in-one is the law of all thought and of all 
 things. Nothing has been created, nothing can be thought, 
 except upon the principle of three-in-one. Three-in-one is the 
 deepest-lying cypher of the universe/ 1 
 
 Again : f The ' relativity' of human knowledge, i.e., the meta- 
 physical limitation of it, implies, we are told, the relation of a 
 subject knowing to an object known. And what is known 
 must be qualitatively known, inasmuch as we must conceive 
 every object of which we are conscious, in the relation of a 
 quality depending upon a substance. Moreover, this qualita- 
 tively known object must be protended, or conceived as existing 
 in time, and extended, or regarded as existing in space ; while 
 its qualities are intensive, or conceivable under degree. The 
 thinkable, even when compelled by analysis to make the nearest 
 approach that is possible to a negation of intelligibility, thus 
 implies phenomena objectified by thought, and conceived to exist 
 in space and time. With the help of these data, may we not 
 
 1 This must have been in the mind of the poet who wrote 
 ' So, down thy hill, romantic Ashbourne, glides 
 The Derby Dilly, carrying three insides/ - 
 
 b
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 discover and define the highest law of intelligence, and thus 
 place the key-stone in the raetaphysic arch ?' 
 
 ' If thou hast any tidings' (says Falstaff to Ancient Pistol) 
 ' prithee deliver them like a man of this world/ 
 
 Again : ' Thus to the ancient, well-known logic, which we 
 might call the logic of identity, and which has for its axiom, 
 'A thing can never be the contrary of that which it is,' Hegel 
 opposes his own logic, according to which ' everything is at 
 once that which it is, and the contrary of that which it is' By 
 means of this he advances a priori ; he proposes a thesis, from 
 which he draws a new synthesis, not directly (which might be 
 impossible), but indirectly, by means of an antithesis.' 
 
 Again : ' It [Religion] is a mountain air ; it is the embalmer 
 of the world. It is myrrh, and storax, and chlorine, and rose- 
 mary. It makes the sky and the hills sublime ; and the silent 
 
 song of the stars is it Always the seer is a sayer. 
 
 Somehow his dream is told, somehow he publishes it with 
 solemn joy, sometimes with pencil on canvas, sometimes with 
 chisel on stone ; sometimes in towers and aisles of granite, his 
 soul's worship is builded Man is the wonder- 
 maker. He is seen amid miracles. The stationariness of re- 
 ligion ; the assumption that the age of inspiration is past, that 
 the Bible is closed ; the fear of degrading the character of Jesus 
 by representing him as a man, indicate with sufficient clear- 
 ness the falsehood of our theology. It is the office of a true 
 teacher to show us that God is, not was that He speaketh, 
 not spoke. The true Christianity a faith like Christ's in the 
 infinitude of Man is lost. None believeth in the soul of Man, 
 but only in some man or person old and departed ! In how 
 many churches, and by how many prophets, tell me, is Man 
 made sensible that he is an infinite soul ; that the earth and 
 heavens are passing into his mind ; and that he is drinking for 
 ever the soul of God ! 
 
 ' The very word Miracle, as pronounced by Christian Churches, 
 gives a false impression : it is a monster ; it is not one with the
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 blowing clover and the falling rain. . . . Man's life is a miracle, 
 and all that man doth. ... A true conversion, a true Christ, 
 is now, as always, to be made by the reception of beautiful 
 sentiments. . . . The gift of God to the soul is not a vaunting, 
 overpowering, excluding sanctity, but a sweet natural goodness 
 like thine and mine, and that thus invites thine and mine to be, 
 and to grow/ 1 
 
 Now, without presuming to insinuate that such passages as 
 these convey no distinct meaning to any reader, or to the 
 writer, it may safely be maintained that to above ninety-nine 
 hundredths including, probably, many who admire them as 
 profoundly wise they are very dimly, if at all, intelligible. If 
 the writers of them were called on to explain their meaning, as 
 Mr. Bayes is, in The Rehearsal, they might perhaps confess as 
 frankly as he does, that the object was merely ' to elevate and 
 surprise/ Some knowledge of a portion of human nature was 
 certainly possessed by that teacher of Rhetoric mentioned by 
 Quintilian, whose constant admonition to his pupils was 
 \GKOTiaov\ ' darken, darken !' as the readiest mode of gaining 
 admiration. 
 
 One may often hear some writers of the c magic-lanthorn 
 school' spoken of as possessing wonderful power, even by those 
 who regret that this power is not better employed. ' It is 
 pity/ we sometimes hear it said, ' that such and such an author 
 does not express in simple, intelligible, unaffected English such 
 admirable matter as his/ They little think that it is the 
 strangeness and obscurity of the style that make the power 
 
 1 It is worth observing that this writer, as well as very many others of the 
 same stamp, professes to be a believer in what he chuses to call Christianity ; and 
 would, of course, not scruple to take the oath (so strenuously maintained by some, 
 as a safeguard to the Christian religion) ' on the true faith of a Christian,' though 
 he is further removed from what is commonly meant by ' Christianity,' than a Jew 
 or a Mussulman. And it should be remembered that this case is far different from 
 that (with which it is sometimes confounded) of hypocritical profession. He who 
 uses the word ' Christian' avowedly in a sense quite different from the established 
 one, is to be censured indeed for an unwarrantable abuse of language, but is not 
 guilty of deception.
 
 x ii PREFACE. 
 
 displayed seem far greater than it is ; and that much of what 
 they now admire as originality and profound wisdom, would 
 appear, if translated into common language, to be mere com- 
 mon-place matter. Many a work of this description may 
 remind one of the supposed ancient shield which had been 
 found by the antiquary Martinus Scriblerus, and which he 
 highly prized, incrusted as it was with venerable rust. He 
 mused on the splendid appearance it must have had in its bright 
 newness; till, one day, an over-sedulous house-maid having 
 scoured off the rust, it turned out to be merely an old pot-lid. 
 
 1 ' It is chiefly in such foggy forms that the metaphysics and 
 theology of Germany, for instance, are exercising a greater in- 
 fluence every day on popular literature. It has been zealously 
 instilled into the minds of many, that Germany has something 
 far more profound to supply than anything hitherto extant in 
 our native literature ; though what that profound something is, 
 seems not to be well understood by its admirers. They are, 
 most of them, willing to take it for granted, with an implicit 
 faith, that what seems such hard thinking, must be very accu- 
 rate and original thinking also. What is abstruse and recondite 
 they suppose must be abstruse and recondite wisdom ; though, 
 perhaps, it is what, if stated in plain English, they would throw 
 aside as partly trifling truisms, and partly stark folly. 
 
 ' It is a remark which I have heard highly applauded, that a 
 clear idea is generally a little idea; for there are not a few 
 persons who estimate the depth of thought as an unskilful eye 
 would estimate the depth of water. Muddy water is apt to be 
 supposed to be deeper than it is, because you cannot see to the 
 bottom ; very clear water, on the contrary, will always seem 
 less deep than it is, both from the well-known law of refraction, 
 and also because it is so thoroughly penetrated by the sight. 
 Men fancy that an idea must have been always obvious to 
 every one, when they find it so plainly presented to the mind 
 that every one can easily take it in. An explanation that is 
 
 1 This passage is from the Cautions for the Times, No. 29.
 
 PREFACE. Xlll 
 
 perfectly clear, satisfactory, and simple, often causes the unre- 
 flecting to forget that they had needed any explanation at all. 
 And truths that are, in practice, frequently overlooked, they 
 will deride as ' vapid truisms' if very plainly set forth, and will 
 wonder that any one should think it worth while to notice 
 them/ 
 
 Accordingly, if there should be two treatises on some science, 
 one of them twice as long as the other, but containing nothing 
 of much importance that is not to be found in the other (ex- 
 cept some positions that are decidedly untenable), but in a style 
 much more diffuse, and less simple and perspicuous, with a 
 tone of lofty pretension, and scornful arrogance, many persons 
 will consider this latter as far the more profound a"nd philoso- 
 phical work, and the other as containing merely ' beggarly 
 elements/ fit only for the vulgar. 
 
 Hence it is that some Writers appear to have much more, 
 and others, much less, originality than they really have. A 
 man who with a certain amount of ability, has a larger amount 
 of self-conceit, and a still greater craving for admiration, will 
 often acquire a kind of trick of dressing up in a new and 
 striking and paradoxical form, much that has in it little or 
 nothing of real novelty. And if he also throws out dark hints, 
 in a boastful style, of what wonderful matters he could produce 
 besides, he will commonly pass for a Writer of great originality. 
 Those, again, of an opposite character, wishing more to convey 
 instruction than to excite admiration, will endeavour, and often 
 with success, to connect what is new with what is long esta- 
 blished and well-known, so exactly and so neatly, that the suture, 
 as it were, will be imperceptible, and the readers will so easily 
 and clearly understand what is said, that they will fancy they 
 knew it before, and will consider such Authors as sound, indeed, 
 and clear, but quite destitute of originality, and not at all 
 profound. 
 
 Each kind of writing has its recommendations. Each will 
 obtain, if there be a considerable amount of ability, some degree
 
 XIV PREFACE. 
 
 of popularity : but of immediate popularity, far the larger share 
 will be obtained by a style of boastful pretension, and apparent 
 originality, because it will be admired by that class of persons 
 who are the more numerous. But the other will strike deeper 
 root, and will produce a more powerful, a more beneficial, and a 
 more lasting impression. 
 
 'Now, Bacon is a striking instance of a genius who could 
 think so profoundly, and at the same time so clearly, that an 
 ordinary man understands readily some of his wisest sayings, 
 and, perhaps, thinks them so self-evident as hardly to need 
 mention. But, on re-consideration and repeated meditation, 
 you perceive more and more what extensive and important 
 application one of his maxims will have, and how often it 
 has been overlooked : and on returning to it again and again, 
 fresh views of its importance will continually open on you. 
 One of his sayings will be like some of the heavenly bodies 
 that are visible to the naked eye, but in which you see con- 
 tinually more and more, the better the telescope you apply to 
 them. 
 
 ' The ' dark sayings,' on the contrary, of some admired writers, 
 may be compared to a fog-bank at sea, which the navigator at 
 first glance takes for a chain of majestic mountains, but which, 
 when approached closely, or when viewed through a good glass, 
 proves to be a mere mass of unsubstantial vapours/ 
 
 A large proportion of Bacon's works has been in great 
 measure superseded, chiefly through the influence exerted by 
 those works themselves ; for, the more satisfactory and effectual 
 is the refutation of some prevailing errors, and the establish- 
 ment of some philosophical principles that had been overlooked, 
 the less need is there to resort, for popular use, to the argu- 
 ments by which this has been effected. They are like the 
 trenches and batteries by which a besieged town has been 
 assailed, and which are abandoned as soon as the capture has 
 been accomplished. 
 
 ' I have been labouring,' says some writer who had been 
 engaged in a task of this kind (and Bacon might have said the
 
 PREFACE. XV 
 
 same) 'I have been labouring to render myself useless/ 
 Great part, accordingly, of what were the most important of 
 Bacon's works are now resorted to chiefly as a matter of curious 
 and interesting speculation to the studious few, while the effect 
 of them is practically felt by many who never read, or perhaps 
 even heard of them. 
 
 But his Essays retain their popularity, as relating chiefly to 
 the concerns of every-day life, and which, as he himself expresses 
 it, ' come home to men's business and bosoms/ 
 
 ' In the Pure and in the Physical Sciences/ says an able 
 writer in the Edinburgh Review, 1 ' each generation inherits 
 the conquests made by its predecessors. No mathematician 
 has to redemonstrate the problems of Euclid ; "no physio- 
 logist has to sustain a controversy as to the circulation of 
 the blood; no astronomer is met by a denial of the principle 
 of gravitation. But in the Moral Sciences the ground seems 
 never to be incontestibly won ; and this is peculiarly the case 
 with respect to the sciences which are subsidiary to the arts of 
 administration and legislation. Opinions prevail, and are acted 
 on. The evils which appear to result from their practical 
 application lead to inquiry. Their erroneousness is proved by 
 philosophers, is acknowledged by the educated Public, and at 
 length is admitted even by statesmen. The policy founded on 
 the refuted error is relaxed, and the evils which it inflicted, so 
 far as they are capable of remedy, are removed or mitigated. 
 After a time, new theorists arise, who are seduced or impelled 
 by some moral or intellectual defect or error to reassert the 
 exploded doctrine. They have become entangled by some 
 logical fallacy, or deceived by some inaccurate or incomplete 
 assumption of facts, or think that they see the means of ac- 
 quiring reputation, or of promoting their interests, or of grati- 
 fying their political or their private resentments, by attacking 
 the altered policy. All popular errors are plausible; indeed, if 
 they were not so, they would not be popular. The plausibility 
 
 1 See Edinburgh Review, July, 1843, No. 157. '
 
 XVI PREFACE. 
 
 to which the revived doctrine owed its original currency, makes 
 it acceptable to those to whom the subject is new ; and even 
 among those to whom it is familiar, probably ninety -nine out 
 of every hundred are accustomed to take their opinions on such 
 matters on trust. They hear with surprise that what they 
 supposed to be settled is questioned, and often avoid the trouble 
 of inquiring by endeavouring to believe that the truth is not to 
 be ascertained. And thus the cause has again to be pleaded, 
 before judges, some of whom are prejudiced, and others will 
 not readily attend to reasoning founded on premises which they 
 think unsusceptible of proof/ 
 
 To treat fully of the design and character of Bacon's greater 
 works, and of the mistakes which are not few or unimportant 
 that prevail respecting them, would be altogether unsuited to 
 this Work. But it may be worth while to introduce two brief 
 remarks on that subject. 
 
 (i.) The prevailing fault among philosophers in Bacon's time 
 and long before, was hasty, careless, and scanty observation, 
 and the want of copious and patient experiment. On supposed 
 facts not carefully ascertained, and often on mere baseless con- 
 jecture, they proceeded to reason, often very closely and inge- 
 niously; forgetting that no architectural skill in a superstructure 
 will give it greater firmness than the foundation on which it 
 rests; and thus they of course failed of arriving at true con- 
 clusions; for, the most accurate reasoning is of no avail, if 
 you have not well-established facts and principles to start 
 from. 
 
 Bacon laboured zealously and powerfully to recall philosophers 
 from the study of fanciful systems, based on crude conjectures, 
 or on imperfect knowledge, to the careful and judicious inves- 
 tigation, or, as he called it, ' interrogation ' and ' interpretation 
 of nature ;' the collecting and properly arranging of well-ascer- 
 tained facts. And the maxims which he laid down and enforced 
 for the conduct of philosophical inquiry, are universally admitted
 
 PREFACE. XV11 
 
 to have at least greatly contributed to the vast progress which 
 physical science has been making since his time. 
 
 But though Bacon dwelt on the importance of setting out 
 from an accurate knowledge of facts, and on the absurdity of 
 attempting to substitute the reasoning-process for an investi- 
 gation of nature, it would be a great mistake to imagine that 
 he meant to disparage the reasoning-process, or to substitute 
 for skill and correctness in that, a mere accumulated knowledge 
 of a multitude of facts. And any one would be far indeed 
 from being a follower of Bacon, who should despise logical ac- 
 curacy, and trust to what is often called experience ; meaning, 
 by that, an extensive but crude and undigested observation. 
 For, as books, though indispensably necessary for a student, are 
 of no use to one who has not learned to read, though he dis- 
 tinctly sees black marks on white paper, so is all experience and 
 acquaintance with facts, unprofitable to one whose mind has not 
 been trained to read rightly the volume of nature, and of human 
 transactions, spread before him. 
 
 When complaints are made often not altogether without 
 reason of the prevailing ignorance of facts, on such or such 
 subjects, it will often be found that the parties censured, though 
 possessing less knowledge than is desirable, yet possess more 
 than they know what to do with. Their deficiency in arranging 
 and applying their knowledge, in combining facts, and correctly 
 deducing, and rightly employing, general principles, will be 
 perhaps greater than their ignorance of facts. Now, to attempt 
 remedying this defect by imparting to them additional know- 
 ledge, to confer the advantage of wider experience on those who 
 have not skill in profiting by experience, is to attempt enlarging 
 the prospect of a short-sighted man by bringing him to the 
 top of a hill. Since he could not, on the plain, see distinctly 
 the objects before him, the wider horizon from the hill-top is 
 utterly lost on him. 
 
 In the tale of Sandford and Merton, where the two boys are 
 described as amusing themselves with building a hovel, they lay
 
 XV111 PREFACE. 
 
 poles horizontally on the top, and cover them with straw, so as 
 to make a flat roof; of course the rain comes through ; and 
 Master Merton proposes then to lay on more straw. But Sand- 
 ford, the more intelligent boy, remarks, that as long as the 
 roof is flat, the rain must sooner or later soak through ; and 
 that the remedy is, to alter the building, and form the roof 
 sloping. Now, the idea of enlightening incorrect reasoners by 
 additional knowledge, is an error analogous to that of the flat 
 roof: of course knowledge is necessary; so is straw to thatch 
 the roof; but no quantity of materials will be a substitute for 
 understanding how to build. 
 
 But the unwise and incautious are always prone to rush from 
 an error on one side into an opposite error. And a reaction 
 accordingly took place from the abuse of reasoning, to the undue 
 neglect of it, and from the fault of not sufficiently observing 
 facts, to that of trusting to a mere accumulation of ill-arranged 
 knowledge. It is as if men had formerly spent vain labour in 
 threshing over and over again the same straw, and winnowing 
 the same chaff, and then their successors had resolved to discard 
 those processes altogether, and to bring home and use wheat 
 and weeds, straw, chaff, and grain, just as they grew, and with- 
 out any preparation at all. 1 
 
 If Bacon had lived in the present day, I am convinced he 
 would have made his chief complaint against unmethodized 
 inquiry, and careless and illogical reasoning ; certainly he would 
 not have complained of Dialectics as corrupting philosophy. 
 To guard now against the evils prevalent in his time, would be 
 to fortify a town against battering-rams instead of against 
 cannon. 
 
 (2.) The other remark I would make on Bacon's greater 
 works is, that he does not rank high as a ' Natural-philosopher.' 
 His genius lay another way ; not in the direct pursuit of Phy- 
 sical Science, but in discerning and correcting the errors of 
 philosophers, and laying down the principles on which they 
 
 1 Lectures on Political Economy, lect. ix.
 
 PREFACE. XIX 
 
 ought to proceed. According to Horace's illustration, his office 
 was not that of the razor, but the hone, ' acutum reddere quse 
 ferrura valet, exsors ipsa secandi/ 
 
 The poet Cowley accordingly has beautifully compared Bacon 
 to Moses, 
 
 ' Who did upon the very border stand 
 Of that fair promised land;' 
 
 who had brought the Israelites out of Egypt, and led them 
 through the wilderness, to the entrance into the ' land flowing 
 with milk and honey,' which he was allowed to view from the 
 hill-top, but not himself to enter. 
 
 It requires the master-mind of a great general to form the 
 plan of a campaign, and to direct aright the movements of great 
 bodies of troops : but the greatest general may perhaps fall far 
 short of many a private soldier in the use of the musket or the 
 sword. 
 
 But Bacon, though far from being without a taste for the 
 pursuits of physical science, had an actual inaptitude for it, as 
 might be shown by many examples. The discoveries of Coper- 
 nicus and Galileo, for instance, which had attracted attention 
 before and in his own time, he appears to have rejected or 
 disregarded. 
 
 But one of the most remarkable specimens of his inaptitude 
 for practically carrying out his own principles in matters con- 
 nected with Physical Science, is his speculation concerning the 
 well-known plant called misselto. He notices the popular 
 belief of his own time, that it is a true plant, propagated by 
 its berries, which are dropped by birds on the boughs of other 
 trees ; a fact alluded to in a Latin proverb applicable to those 
 who create future dangers for themselves; for, the ancient 
 Romans prepared birdlime for catching birds from the misselto 
 thus propagated. Now this account of the plant, which has 
 long since been universally admitted, Bacon rejects as a vulgar 
 error, and insists on it that misselto is not a true plant, but an 
 excrescence from the tree it grows on ! Nothing can be con-
 
 XX PREFACE. 
 
 ceived more remote from the spirit of the Baconian philosophy 
 than thus to substitute a random conjecture for careful investi- 
 gation : and that, too, when there actually did exist a prevailing 
 belief, and it was obviously the first step to inquire whether 
 this were or were not well-founded. 
 
 The matter itself, indeed, is of little importance; but it 
 indicates, no less than if it were of the greatest, a deficiency in 
 the application of his own principles. For, one who takes 
 deliberate aim at some object, and misses it, is proved to be a 
 bad marksman, whether the object itself be insignificant or not. 
 
 But rarely, if ever, do we find any such failures in Bacon's 
 speculations on human character and conduct. It was there that 
 his strength lay; and in that department of philosophy it may 
 safely be said that he had few to equal, and none to excel him. 
 
 In several instances I have treated of subjects respecting 
 which erroneous opinions are current; and I have, in other 
 works, sometimes assigned this as a reason for touching on, 
 those subjects. Hence, it has been inferred by more than one 
 critic, that I must be at variance with the generality of mankind 
 in most of my opinions; or, at least, must wish to appear so, 
 for the sake of claiming credit for originality. But there seems 
 no good ground for such an inference. A man might, conceiv- 
 ably, agree with the generality on nineteen points out of twenty, 
 and yet might see reason, when publishing is in question, to 
 treat of the one point, and say little or nothing of the nineteen. 
 For it is evidently more important to clear up difficulties, and 
 correct mistakes, than merely to remind men of what they knew 
 before, and prove to them what they already believe. He may 
 be convinced that the sun is brighter than the moon, and that 
 three and two make five, without seeing any need to proclaim 
 to the world his conviction. There is no necessity to write a 
 book to prove that liberty is preferable to slavery, and that in- 
 temperance is noxious to health. But when errors are afloat 
 on any important question, and especially when they are plausi-
 
 PREFACE. XXI 
 
 bly defended, the work of refuting them, and of maintaining 
 truths that have been overlooked, is surely more serviceable to 
 the Public than the inculcation and repetition of what all men 
 admit. 
 
 I have inserted in the ' Annotations/ extracts from several 
 works of various authors, including some of my own. If I had, 
 instead of this, merely given references, this would have been to 
 expect every reader either to be perfectly familiar with all the 
 works referred to, or at least to have them at hand, and to take 
 the trouble to look out and peruse each passage. This is what 
 I could not reasonably calculate on. And I had seen lament- 
 able instances of an author's being imperfectly understood, and 
 sometimes grievously misunderstood, by many of his readers 
 who were not so familiar as he had expected them to be, with 
 his previous works, and with others which had been alluded to, 
 but not cited. 
 
 Cavillers, however persons of the description noticed in the 
 ' Annotations' on Essay XLVII. will be likely to complain of 
 the reprinting of passages from other books. And if the opposite 
 course had been adopted, of merely giving references to them, 
 the same cavillers would probably have complained that the 
 reader of this volume was expected to sit down to the study of 
 it with ten or twelve other volumes on the table before him, 
 and to look out each of the passages referred to. Again, if an 
 author, in making an extract from some work of his own, gives 
 a reference to it, the caviller will represent him as seeking to 
 puff his own productions : if he omit to give the reference, the 
 same caviller will charge him with seeking to pass off as new 
 what had been published before. And again, a reader of 
 this character, if he meet with a statement of something he 
 was already convinced of, will deride it as a truism not worth 
 mentioning ; while anything that is new to him he will 
 censure as an extravagant paradox. For ' you must think this, 
 look you, that the worm will do his kind/ 1 
 
 1 Antony and Cleopatra, Act v.
 
 XX11 PREFACE. 
 
 I chose, then, rather to incur the blame of the fault if 
 it be one of encumbering the volume with two or three addi- 
 tional sheets, which, to some readers, may be superfluous, than to 
 run the risk of misleading, or needlessly offending, many others, 
 by omitting, and merely referring to, something essential to the 
 argument, which they might not have seen, or might not dis- 
 tinctly remember. 
 
 The passages thus selected are, of course, but a few out of 
 many in which the subjects of these Essays have been treated 
 of. I have inserted those that seemed most to the purpose, 
 without expecting that all persons should agree in approving the 
 selections made. But any one who thinks that some passages 
 from other writers contain better illustrations than those here 
 given, has only to edit the Essays himself with such extracts as 
 he prefers. 
 
 To the present edition some additions have been made ; 
 one of which a short ' Annotation' on Essay XL VI. has 
 been printed separate, for the use of purchasers of the former 
 editions, and may be had of the Publishers.
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 ESSAY PAGE 
 
 I. OP TRUTH I 
 
 II. OF DEATH l6 
 
 III. OF UNITY IN RELIGION 23 
 
 IV. OF REVENGE 58 
 
 V. OF ADVERSITY 69 
 
 VI. OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION ..... 8l 
 
 VII. OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN . . 9! 
 
 VIII. OF MARRIAGE AND SINGLE LIFE 95 
 
 IX. OF ENVY IOO 
 
 X. OF LOVE IIO 
 
 XI. OF GREAT PLACE 115 
 
 XII. OF BOLDNESS *. 135 
 
 XIII. OF GOODNESS, AND GOODNESS OF NATURE . . . 138 
 
 XIV. OF NOBILITY 146 
 
 XV. OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES 15 1 
 
 XVI. OF ATHEISM 167 
 
 XVII. OF SUPERSTITION l8l 
 
 XVIII. OF TRAVEL 2d6 
 
 XIX. OF EMPIRE 212 
 
 XX. OF COUNSEL 221 
 
 XXI. OF DELAYS 23! 
 
 XXII. OF CUNNING 238 
 
 XXIII. OF WISDOM FOR A MAN*S SELF 254 
 
 XXIV. OF INNOVATIONS 26l 
 
 XXV. OF DISPATCH 285 
 
 XXVI. OF SEEMING WISE . 29 1 
 
 XXVIL OF FRIENDSHIP 299
 
 XXIV CONTENTS. 
 
 ESSAY PAGE 
 
 XXVIII. OF EXPENSE 317 
 
 XXIX. OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS AND 
 
 ESTATES 326 
 
 XXX. OF REGIMEN OF HEALTH 345 
 
 XXXI. OF SUSPICION 351 
 
 XXXII. OF DISCOURSE 365 
 
 XXXIII. OF PLANTATIONS 374 
 
 XXXIV. OF RICHES 389 
 
 XXXV. OF PROPHECIES 400 
 
 XXXVI. OF AMBITION . . 407 
 
 XXXVII. OF MASQUES AND TRIUMPHS 4! I 
 
 XXXVIII. OF NATURE IN MEN . . 415 
 
 XXXIX. OF CUSTOM AND EDUCATION 42O 
 
 XL. OF FORTUNE 434 
 
 XLI. OF USURY . 439 
 
 XLII. OF YOUTH AND AGE 446 
 
 XLIII. OF BEAUTY 456 
 
 XLIV. OF DEFORMITY .-..... 458 
 
 XLV. OF BUILDING . . . . 460 
 
 XLVI.*OF GARDENS . . . . . 465 
 
 XLVII. OF NEGOTIATING 474 
 
 XLVII1. OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS 490 
 
 XLIX. OF SUITORS 495 
 
 L. OF STUDIES ...... 498 
 
 LI. OF FACTION .... . -. 54! 
 
 LII. OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS 548 
 
 1,111. OF PRAISE . . ...-.-. 552 
 
 LIV. OF VAIN GLORY 565 
 
 LV. OF HONOUR AND REPUTATION 570 
 
 LV1. OF JUDICATURE . . . . . 578 
 
 LVII. OF ANGER 587 
 
 LVIII. OF VICISSITUDES OF THINGS 593 
 
 A FRAGMENT OF AN ESSAY ON FAME . . . . . . . 6oO 
 
 THE PRAISE OF KNOWLEDGE . 604
 
 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 ESSAY I. OF TRUTH. 
 
 ' TTTHAT 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 1 
 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 2 wits which are of the same veins, though 
 there be not so much blood in them as was in those of the 
 ancients. But it is not only the difficulty and labour which 
 men take in finding out of truth ; nor again, that, when it is 
 found, it imposeth 3 upon men's thoughts, that doth bring lies 
 in favour ; but a natural, though corrupt love of the lie itself. 
 One of the later schools of the Grecians examineth the matter, 
 and is at a stand to think what should be in it, that men should 
 love lies, where neither they make for pleasure, as with 
 poets, nor for advantage, as with the merchant, but for the lie's 
 sake. But I cannot tell : this same truth is a naked and open 
 daylight, that doth not show the masques, and mummeries, and 
 triumphs of the world, half so stately and daintily 4 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 
 
 1 Affect. To aim at ; endeavour after. 
 
 ' This proud man affects imperial sway.' Dryden. 
 ' Discoursing. Discursive ; rambling, 
 
 ' We, through madness, 
 
 Form strange conceits in our discoursing brains, 
 And prate of things as we pretend they were.' Ford. 
 
 3 Impose upon. To lay a restraint upon. (Bacon's Latin original is, ' Cogita- 
 tionibus imponitur captivitas.') 
 
 ' Unreasonable impositions on the mind and practice.' Watts. 
 * Daintily. Elegantly. 
 
 ' The Duke exceeded in that his leg was daintily formed.' Wotton. 
 
 B
 
 2 Of Truth. [Essay i. 
 
 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, 1 
 and the like, but it would leave the minds of a number of men 
 poor shrunken things, full of melancholy and indisposition, and 
 unpleasing 2 to themselves ? One of the fathers, in great seve- 
 rity, called poesy 'vinum daemonum,' 3 because it filleth the 
 imagination, and yet 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 4 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, 5 that beautified the sect 6 that was otherwise inferior to the 
 rest, saith yet excellently well, ' It is a pleasure to stand upon 
 the shore, and to see ships tost upon the sea; a pleasure to 
 stand in the window of a castle, and to see a battle, and the 
 adventures 7 thereof below ; but no pleasure is comparable to the 
 standing upon the vantage ground of truth (a hill not to be 
 
 1 As one would. At pleasure ; unrestrained. 
 
 2 Unpleasing. Unpleasant ; distasteful. 
 
 ' How dares thy tongue 
 Sound the unpleasing news ?' Shakespere. 
 
 3 ' Wine of demons.' Augustine. 
 
 4 Howsoever. Although. 
 
 ' The man doth fear God, howsoever it seems not in him.' Shakespere. 
 
 5 Lucretius, ii. 
 
 c The Epicureans. 
 
 7 Adventures. Fortunes. 
 
 ' She smiled with silver cheer, 
 And wished me fair adventure for the year.' Dryden.
 
 Essay i.] Of Truth. 3 
 
 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 1 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 2 dealing is the honour 
 of man's nature, and that mixture of falsehood is like alloy in 
 coin of gold and silver, which may make the metal work the 
 better, but it embaseth 3 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, ' If it be well weighed, to say that a 
 man lieth, is as much as to say that he is brave towards God, 
 and a coward towards man; for a lie faces God, and shrinks 
 from man.' 4 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 earth.' 
 
 1 So. Provided. ' So that the doctrine be wholesome and edifying, a want 
 of exactness in the manner of speech may be overlooked.' Atterbury. 
 " Round. Plain ; fair ; candid. 
 
 ' I will a round, unvarnished tale deliver.' ShaJcespere. 
 
 3 Embase. To vitiate / to alloy. ' A pleasure, high, rational, and angelic ; a 
 pleasure embased by no appendant sting.' South. 
 
 4 Essais, liv. ii. chap, xviii. 
 
 B 2
 
 4 Of Truth. [Essay i. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' ' What is truth ?' said jesting Pilate, and would not stay for 
 
 an answer.' 
 
 Any one of Bacon's acuteness, or of a quarter of it, might 
 easily have perceived, had he at all attended to the context of 
 the narrative, that never was any one less in a jesting mood 
 than Pilate on this occasion. He was anxious to release Jesus ; 
 which must have been from a knowledge of the superhuman 
 powers of Him he had to do with. A man so unscrupulous 
 as Pilate is universally admitted to have been, could not have 
 felt any anxiety merely from a dislike of injustice ; and there- 
 fore his conduct is one confirmation of the reality of the nu- 
 merous miracles Jesus wrought. They, and they only, must 
 have filled him with dread of the consequences of doing any 
 wrong to such a person, and probably, also, inspired him with 
 a hope of furthering some ambitious views of his own, by 
 taking part with one whom he (in common with so many 
 others) expected to be just about to assume temporal dominion, 
 and to enforce his claim by resistless power. He tries to make 
 Him proclaim Himself a King ; and when Jesus does this, but 
 adds that his kingdom is not of this world, still Pilate catches 
 at the word, and says, ' Art thou a king, then ?' Jesus then 
 proceeds to designate who should be his subjects : ( Every one 
 that is of the Truth heareth my words :' as much as to say, ' I 
 claim a kingdom, not over the Israelites by race ; not over all 
 whom I can subjugate by force, or who will submit to me 
 through fear or interest ; but over the votaries of truth, those 
 who are 'of the truth/ ' those who are willing to receive what- 
 ever shall be proved true, and to follow wherever that shall 
 lead. And Pilate is at a loss to see what this has to do with 
 his inquiry. ' I am asking you about your claims to empire, 
 and you tell me about truth : what has truth to do with the 
 question ?' 
 
 Most readers overlook the drift of our Lord's answer, and 
 interpret the words as a mere assertion (which every teacher 
 makes) of the truth of what He taught ; as if He had said, 
 ' Every one that heareth my words is of the Truth.' 
 
 And commentators usually satisfy themselves with such an
 
 Essay i.] Annotations. 5 
 
 interpretation as makes the expression intelligible in itself, 
 without considering how far it is pertinent. A mere assertion 
 of the truth of his teaching would not have been at all relevant 
 to the inquiry made. But what He did say was evidently a 
 description of the persons who were to be the subjects of the 
 kingdom that ' is not of this world.' 
 
 Much to the same effect is his declaration that those who 
 should be his disciples indeed should 'know the Truth/ and the 
 ' Truth should make them free / and that ' if any man will do' 
 [is willing to do] 'the will of the Father, he shall know of 
 the doctrine/ Men were not to become his disciples in con- 
 sequence of their knowing and perceiving the truth of what He 
 taught, but in consequence of their having sufficient candour 
 to receive the evidence which his miracles afforded, and being 
 so thoroughly ' of the Truth/ as to give themselves .up to follow 
 wherever that should lead, in opposition to any prejudices or 
 inclinations of their own ; and then knowledge of the Truth 
 was to be their reward. There is not necessarily any moral 
 virtue in receiving truth ; for it may happen that our interest, 
 or our wishes, are in the same direction ; or it may be forced 
 upon us by evidence as irresistible as that of a mathematical 
 demonstration. The virtue consists in being a sincere votary 
 of Truth ; what our Lord calls being 'of the Truth/ rejecting 
 'the hidden things of dishonesty/ and carefully guarding against 
 every undue bias. Every one wishes to have Truth on his side ; 
 but it is not every one that sincerely wishes to be on the side 
 of Truth. 
 
 ' The inquiry of truth, which is the love-making or 
 wooing of it.' 1 
 
 This love-making or wooing of Truth implies that first step 
 towards attaining the establishment of the habit of a steady 
 thorough-going adherence to it in all philosophic, and espe- 
 cially religious, inquiry the strong conviction of its value. To 
 this must be united a distrust of ourselves. Men miss truth 
 more often from their indifference about it than from intellec- 
 tual incapacity. A well-known statesman is reported to have 
 said that ' no gentleman would ever change his religion/ And 
 
 1 The chief part of what follows, I hare taken the liherty to extract from the 
 Essay on Tnith (2nd Series). The different senses of the word ' truth ' are treated 
 of in the Elements of Logic, app. i.
 
 6 Of Truth. [Essay i. 
 
 an author of some note, a professed Protestant Christian, has 
 been heard to declare that he thought very ill of any one who 
 did so ; ' unless it were/ he said, 'one man in a million, some 
 person of surpassing genius/ 1 And this sentiment (which 
 implies a total indifference to truth and falsehood) has been 
 cited with approbation. 
 
 Some men, again, from supposing themselves to have found 
 truth, take for granted that it was for truth they were seeking. 
 But if we either care not to be lovers of Truth, or take for 
 granted that we are such, without taking any pains to acquire 
 the habit, it is not likely that we ever shall acquire it. 
 
 Many objections have been urged against the very effort to 
 cultivate such a habit. One is, that we cannot be required to 
 make Truth our main object, but happiness; that our ultimate 
 end is not the mere knowledge of what is true, but the attain- 
 ment of what is good to ourselves and to others. But this, 
 when urged as an objection to the maxim, that Truth should be 
 sought for its own sake, is evidently founded on a mistake as 
 to its meaning. It is evident, in the first place, that it does 
 not mean the pursuit of all truth on all subjects. It would be 
 ridiculous for a single individual to aim at universal knowledge, 
 or even at the knowledge of all that is within the reach of the 
 human faculties and worthy of human study. The question is 
 respecting the pursuit of truth in each subject on which each 
 person desires to make up his mind and form an opinion. And 
 secondly, the purport of the maxim that in these points truth 
 should be our object, is, that not mere barren knowledge with- 
 out practice truth without any ulterior end, should be sought, 
 but that truth should be sought and followed confidently, not 
 in each instance, only so far as we perceive it to be expedient, 
 and from motives of policy, but with a full conviction both that 
 it is, in the end, always expedient, with a view to the attain- 
 ment of ulterior objects (no permanent advantage being attain- 
 able by departing from it), and also, that, even if some end, 
 otherwise advantageous, could be promoted by such a departure, 
 that alone would constitute it an evil ; that truth, in short, is 
 
 1 It was the same person to whom I have alluded in the Thoughts on the Sab' 
 bath, as declaring that a doctrine which he himself thought utterly groundless, 
 ought, as a matter of expediency, to be sedulously inculcated on the mass of man- 
 kind. There is a -strange kind of sincerity in this frank avowal of insincerity. I 
 wish I could he sure that all are scrupulous adherents to truth who do not thus 
 plainly proclaim their contempt of it.
 
 Essay i.] Annotations. 7 
 
 in itself, independently of its results, preferable to error; that 
 honesty claims a preference to deceit, even without taking into 
 account its being the best policy. 
 
 Another objection, if it can be so called, is that a perfectly 
 candid and unbiassed state of mind a habit of judging in each 
 case entirely according to the evidence is unattainable. But 
 the same may be said of every other virtue : a perfect regula- 
 tion of any one of the human passions is probably not more 
 attainable than perfect candour ; but we are not therefore to 
 give a loose to the passions ; we are not to relax our efforts for 
 the attainment of any virtue, on the ground that, after all, we 
 shall fall short of perfection. 
 
 Another objection which has been urged is, that it is not 
 even desirable, were it possible, to bring the mind into a state 
 of perfectly unbiassed indifference, so as to weigh the evidence 
 in each case with complete impartiality. This objection arises, 
 I conceive, from an indistinct and confused notion of the sense 
 of the terms employed. A candid and unbiassed state of mind, 
 which is sometimes called indifference, or impartiality, i.e., of the 
 judgment, does not imply an indifference of the will an absence 
 of all wish on either side, but merely an absence of all influence 
 of the wishes in forming our decision, all leaning of the judg- 
 ment on the side of inclination, all perversion of the evidence 
 in consequence. That we should wish to find truth on one side 
 rather than the other, is in many cases not only unavoidable, 
 but commendable ; but to think that true which we wish, with- 
 out impartially weighing the evidence on both sides, is undeni- 
 ably a folly, though a very common one. If a mode of effectual 
 and speedy cure be proposed to a sick man, he cannot but wish 
 that the result of his inquiries concerning it may be a well- 
 grounded conviction of the safety and efficacy of the remedy 
 prescribed. It would be no mark of wisdom to be indifferent 
 to the restoration of health ; but if his wishes should lead him 
 (as is frequently the case) to put implicit confidence in the 
 remedy without any just grounds for it, he would deservedly be 
 taxed with folly. 
 
 In like manner (to take the instance above alluded to), a 
 good man will indeed wish to find the evidence of the Christian 
 religion satisfactory, but will weigh the evidence the more care- 
 fully, on account of the importance of the question.
 
 8 , Of Truth. [Essay i. 
 
 But indifference of the will and indifference of the judgment 
 are two very distinct things that are often confounded. A 
 conclusion may safely be adopted, though in accordance with 
 inclination, provided it be not founded upon it. No doubt the 
 judgment is often biassed by the inclinations; but it is possible, 
 and it should be our endeavour, to guard against this bias. 
 And by the way, it is utterly a mistake to suppose that the 
 bias is always in favour of the conclusion wished for; it is often 
 in the contrary direction. There is in some minds an unrea- 
 sonable doubt in cases where their wishes are strong a morbid 
 distrust of evidence which they are especially anxious to find 
 conclusive. The proverbial expression of /too good news to be 
 true' bears witness to the existence of this feeling. Each of us 
 probably has a nature leaning towards one or the other (often 
 towards both, at different times) of these infirmities ; the over- 
 estimate or under-estimate of the reasons in favour of a conclu- 
 sion we earnestly desire to find true. Our aim should be, not 
 to fly from one extreme to the other, but to avoid both, and to 
 give a verdict according to the evidence, preserving the indiffe- 
 rence of the judgment even when the will cannot, and indeed 
 should not, be indifferent. 
 
 There are persons, again, who, in supposed compliance with 
 the precept, ' Lean not to thine own understanding/ regard it 
 as a duty to suppress all exercise of the intellectual powers, in 
 every case where the feelings are at variance with the conclusions 
 of reason. They deem it right to { consult the heart more 
 than the head / that is, to surrender themselves, advisedly, to 
 the bias of any prejudice that may happen to be present ; thus 
 deliberately, and on principle, burying in the earth the talent 
 entrusted to them, and hiding under a bushel the caudle that 
 God has lighted up in the soul. Though there never was a 
 time when there was not much absurd falsehood afloat, and 
 when there were not many who believed what they did believe, 
 whether false or true, not on any rational grounds, but according 
 to their feelings or fancies, still, the open approval of all this, 
 the avowed disregard of truth, and contempt of Reason, is 
 somewhat characteristic of the present Age. In some Periodical 
 a reviewer who eulogizes a certain Author on account of his 
 ' glorious imaginings/ gives him a decided preference even when 
 his religious views are erroneous, to others, when they are in the
 
 Essay i.] Annotations. 9 
 
 right, but without these glorious imaginings ! And another 
 Critic declares (expressing at the same time his hearty acqui- 
 escence in this state of things), that ' the Mass of men accept a 
 creed, not because it approves itself to their intellect, but because 
 through electric sympathy it has conquered their whole being.' 
 
 In this there is much truth. For how else could one account 
 for the millions of ancient and of modern Pagans believing in the 
 extravagances of their Mythology : and the millions who believe 
 in the pretensions of Mahomet : and the millions of Christians 
 who believe in the Legends of Saints; besides Mormonites, 
 Irvingites, and many other such? But the curious circum- 
 stance is that the Critic evidently thinks such a procedure 
 quite right and desirable ; he says that ' Faith justifies Reason : 
 that Reason can never justify Faith.' 
 
 The Writers I have referred to (to whom several others might 
 have been added) are not cited as being eminent ones, but just 
 the contrary. For, the opinions of any one who is distinguished 
 by ability, and originality of mind, are only the opinions of an 
 individual. But those who belong to the mere f rank and file/ 
 who are disposed (as Shakespere expresses it) to ' catch the 
 tune of the times,' and rather to follow public opinion than to 
 lead it these afford some indication of what are the prevalent 
 notions. For, ' a straw' according to the Proverb ' best shows 
 how the wind blows.' Any one, therefore, who should resolve 
 not to read or hear anything that is silly or absurd, would 
 remain unacquainted with a large portion of human nature. 
 
 It is not, of course, intended to recommend presumptuous 
 inquiries into things beyond the reach of our faculties, attempts 
 to be wise above what is written, or groundless confidence in 
 the certainty of our conclusions ; but unless reason be employed 
 in ascertaining what doctrines are revealed, humility cannot be 
 exercised in acquiescing in them ; and there is surely at least 
 as much presumption in measuring everything by our own 
 feelings, fancies, and prejudices, as by our own reasonings. 
 Such voluntary humiliation is a prostration, not of ourselves 
 before God, but of one part of ourselves before another part, 
 and resembles the idolatry of the Israelites in the wilderness : 
 ' The people stripped themselves of their golden ornaments, and 
 cast them into the fire, and there came out this calf.' We 
 ought to remember that the disciples were led by the dictates of
 
 io Of Truth. [Essay i. 
 
 a sound understanding to say, ' No man can do these miracles 
 that thou doest, except God be with him / and thence to believe 
 and trust, and obey Jesus implicitly ; but that Peter was led 
 by his heart (that is, his inclinations and prejudices) to say, 'Be it 
 far from thee, Lord ! there shall no such thing happen unto thee/ 
 
 It is to be remembered also that the intellectual powers are 
 sometimes pressed into the service, as it were, of the feelings, 
 and that a man may be thus misled, in a great measure, through 
 his own ingenuity. 'Depend on it/ said a shrewd observer, 
 when inquired of, what was to be expected from a certain man 
 who had been appointed to some high office, and of whose intel- 
 ligence he thought more favourably than of his uprightness, 
 ' depend on it, he will never take any step that is bad, without 
 having a very good reason to give for it/ Now it is common 
 to warn men and they are generally ready enough to take the 
 warning against being thus misled by the ingenuity of another; 
 but a person of more than ordinary learning and ability needs 
 to be carefully on his guard against being misled by his own. 
 Though conscious, perhaps, of his own power to dress up spe- 
 ciously a bad cause, or an extravagant and fanciful theory, he 
 is conscious also of a corresponding power to distinguish sound 
 reasoning from sophistry. But this will not avail to protect 
 him from convincing himself by ingenious sophistry of his own, 
 if he has allowed himself to adopt some conclusion which pleases 
 his imagination, or favours some passion or self-interest. His 
 own superior intelligence will then be, as I have said, pressed 
 into the service of his inclinations. It is, indeed, no feeble 
 blow that will suffice to destroy a giant ; but if a giant resolves 
 to commit suicide, it is a giant that deals the blow. 
 
 When, however, we have made up our minds as to the im- 
 portance of seeking in every case for truth with an unprejudiced 
 mind, the greatest difficulty still remains ; which arises from 
 the confidence we are apt to feel that we have already done this, 
 and have sought for truth with success. For every one must 
 of course be convinced of the truth of his own opinion, if it be 
 properly called his opinion ; and yet the variety of men's 
 opinions furnishes a proof how many must be mistaken. If 
 any one, then, would guard against mistake, as far as his intel- 
 lectual faculties will allow, he must make it the first question in 
 each case, ' Is this true ?' It is not enough to believe what you
 
 Essay i.] Annotations. n 
 
 maintain ; you must maintain what you believe, and maintain 
 it because you believe it ; and that, on the most careful and 
 impartial view of the evidence on both sides. For any one may 
 bring himself to believe almost anything that he is inclined to 
 believe, and thinks it becoming or expedient to maintain. Some 
 persons, accordingly, who describe themselves in one sense, 
 correctly as 'following the dictates of conscience/ are doing 
 so only in the same sense in which a person who is driving in a 
 carriage may be said to follow his horses, which go in whatever 
 direction he guides them. It is in a determination to f obey 
 the Truth/ and to follow wherever she may lead, that the 
 genuine love of truth consists; and this can be realized in 
 practice only by postponing all other questions to that which 
 ought ever to come foremost ' What is the truth V If this 
 question be asked only in the second place, it is likely to receive 
 a very different answer from what it would if it had been asked 
 in the first place. The minds of most men are preoccupied by 
 some feeling or other which influences their judgment (either 
 on the side of truth or of error, as it may happen) and enlists 
 their learning and ability on the side, whatever it may be, 
 which they are predisposed to adopt. 
 
 I shall merely enumerate a few of the most common of these 
 feelings that present obstacles to the pursuit or propagation of 
 truth : Aversion to doubt desire of a supposed happy medium 
 the love of system the dread of the character of inconsistency 
 the love of novelty the dread of innovation undue deference 
 to human authority the love of approbation, and the dread of 
 censure regard to seeming expediency. 
 
 The greatest of all these obstacles to the habit of following 
 truth is the last mentioned the tendency to look, in the first 
 instance, to the expedient. It is this principle that influences 
 men to the reservation, or to the (so-called) development, but 
 real depravation, of truth ; and that leads to pious frauds in 
 one or other of the two classes into which they naturally fall, of 
 positive and negative the one, the introduction and propagation 
 of what is false ; the other, the mere toleration of it. He who 
 propagates a delusion, and he who connives at it when already 
 existing, both alike tamper with truth. We must neither lead 
 nor leave men to mistake falsehood for truth. Not to unde- 
 ceive is to deceive. The giving, or not correcting, false reasons
 
 12 Of Truth. [Essay i. 
 
 for right conclusions false grounds for right belief false prin- 
 ciples for right practice; the holding forth or fostering false 
 consolations, false encouragements, and false sanctions, or con- 
 niving at their being held forth or believed, are all pious frauds. 
 This springs from, and it will foster and increase, a want of 
 veneration for truth ; it is an affront put on ' the Spirit of 
 Truth :' it is a hiring of the idolatrous Syrians to fight the 
 battles of the Lord God of Israel. And it is on this ground 
 that we should adhere to the most scrupulous fairness of state- 
 ment and argument. He who believes that sophistry will 
 always in the end prove injurious to the cause supported by it, 
 is probably right in that belief; but if it be for that reason that 
 he abstains from it, if he avoid fallacy, wholly or partly, through 
 fear of detection, it is plain he is no sincere votary of truth. 
 
 It may be added that many who would never bring them- 
 selves to say anything positively false, yet need to be warned 
 against the falsehood of suppression or extenuation; against 
 the unfairness of giving what is called a one-sided represen- 
 tation. Among writers (whether of argumentative works or 
 of fictions), even such as are far from wholly unscrupulous, 
 there are many who seem to think it allowable and right to set 
 forth all the good that is on one side, and all the evil on the 
 other. They compare together, and decide on, the gardens of 
 A and of B, after having culled from the one a nosegay of the 
 choicest flowers, and from the other all the weeds they could 
 spy. And those who object to this, are often regarded as 
 trimmers, or lukewarm, or inconsistent. But to such as deal 
 evenhanded justice to both sides, and lay down Scylla and 
 Charybdis in the same chart, to them, and, generally speak- 
 ing, to them only, it is given to find that the fair course, 
 which they have pursued because it is the fair course, is also, 
 in the long run, the most expedient. 
 
 On the same principle, we are bound never to countenance any 
 erroneous opinion, however seemingly beneficial in its results 
 never to connive at any salutary delusion (as it may appear), 
 but to open the eyes (when opportunity offers, and in propor- 
 tion as it offers) of those we are instructing, to any mistake they 
 may labour under, though it may be one which leads them 
 ultimately to a true result, and to one of which they might 
 otherwise fail. The temptation to depart from this principle is
 
 Essay i.] Annotations. 13 
 
 sometimes excessively strong, because it will often be the case 
 that men will be in some danger, in parting with a long- 
 admitted error, of abandoning, at the same time, some truth 
 they have been accustomed to connect with it. Accordingly, 
 censures have been passed on the endeavours to enlighten the 
 adherents of some erroneous Churches, on the ground that 
 many of them thence become atheists, and many, the wildest 
 of fanatics. That this should have been in some instances the 
 case is highly probable ; it is a natural result of the pernicious 
 effects on the mind of any system of blind, uninquiring acqui- 
 escence ; such a system is an Evil Spirit, which we must expect 
 will cruelly rend and mangle the patient as it comes out of 
 him, and will leave him half dead at its departure. There will 
 often be, and oftener appear to be, danger in removing a mis- 
 take ; the danger that those who have been long used to act 
 rightly on erroneous principles may fail of the desired conclu- 
 sions when undeceived. In such cases it requires a thorough 
 love of truth, and a firm reliance on divine support, to adhere 
 steadily to the straight course. If we give way to a dread of 
 danger from the inculcation of any truth, physical, moral, or 
 religious, we manifest a want of faith in God's power, or in his 
 will to maintain his own cause. There may be danger attend- 
 ant on every truth, since there is none that may not be per- 
 verted by some, or that may not give offence to others ; but, in 
 the case of anything which plainly appears to be truth, every 
 danger must be braved. We must maintain the truth as we 
 have received it, and trust to Him who is f the Truth' to 
 prosper and defend it. 
 
 One of the strongest and most prevalent temptations is ' the 
 fear of impairing one's influence' A man is often induced to 
 keep back some unwelcome truth, or to abstain from protesting 
 against some prevailing error or fault, lest he should thereby 
 raise a prejudice against himself that would lessen the influence 
 he might hereafter exert beneficially in some other case. And 
 thus he will perhaps be led on to make one concession after 
 another, till he goes down to the grave with his Talent laid up 
 in a napkin; having omitted, through dread of losing his influence, 
 to use it where it was most needed ; like a miser who passes 
 his life practically in abject poverty, for fear of becoming poor. 
 That we shall indeed best further any good cause by fearless per-
 
 I 4 Of Truth. [Essay i. 
 
 severance in an open and straight course, I am firmly persuaded; 
 but it is not only when we perceive the mischiefs of falsehood 
 and disguise, and the beneficial tendency of fairness and can- 
 dour, that we are to be followers of truth; the trial of our faith 
 is when we cannot perceive this : and the part of a lover of Truth 
 is to follow her at all seeming hazards, after the example of 
 Him who ' came into the world that he should bear witness to 
 the Truth/ This straightforward course may not, indeed, obtain 
 f the praise of men.' Courage, liberality, activity, and other 
 good qualities, are often highly prized by those who do not 
 possess them in any great degree ; but the zealous, thorough- 
 going love of truth is not very much admired or liked, or 
 indeed understood, except by those who possess it. But Truth, 
 as Bacon says, ' only doth judge itself/ and, ' howsoever these 
 things are in men's depraved judgments and affections, it 
 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/ 
 
 ' There is no vice that doth so cover a man with shame, as to be 
 found false and perfidious.' 
 
 This holds good when falsehood is practised solely for a man's 
 private advantage : but, in a zealous and able partisan, falsehood 
 in the cause of the party will often be pardoned, and even 
 justified. We have lived to see the system called ' ( phenakism,' 
 1 double-doctrine,' or ' economy' that is, saying something quite 
 different from what is inwardly believed, not only practised, 
 but openly avowed and vindicated, and those who practise it 
 held up as models of pre-eminent holiness, not only by those of 
 their own party, but by others also. 
 
 When men who have repeatedly brought forward, publicly, 
 heavy charges against a certain Church, afterwards openly 
 declare that those charges were what they knew, at the time, 
 to be quite undeserved, they are manifestly proclaiming their 
 own insincerity. Perhaps they did believe and perhaps they 
 believe still that those charges are just ; and if so, their 
 present disavowal is a falsehood. But if, as they now profess, 
 the charges are what they believed to be calumnious falsehoods,
 
 Essay i.] Annotations. 15 
 
 uttered because the same things had been said by some eminent 
 divines, and because they were ' necessary for our position' then, 
 they confess themselves ' false and perfidious / and yet they are 
 not ' covered with shame/ 
 
 It is remarkable, that although it is proverbial that ' a liar 
 is likely to be disbelieved even when he speaks the truth/ yet 
 with some persons the opposite result will sometimes take place. 
 One who has made confession of a long course of imposture will 
 sometimes obtain thenceforward. credit for veracity. 
 
 A remarkable instance of this was an impostor who about 
 forty years ago excited much public attention. She called 
 herself Caraboo (her real name being Mary Baker), and per- 
 suaded many persons in the neighbourhood of Bristol, and else- 
 where, that she was an Oriental Princess. Some of her writing, 
 in her pretended language, was sent to me at Oxford for inspec- 
 tion, and I at once pronounced it to be an imposture. But even 
 after this, many continued deluded by her. When at length 
 she was fully detected, some strange accounts of her early 
 history and of the origin of her imposture were circulated, and 
 were by many believed on her authority. ' This is all very 
 curious; but how do you know that there is any truth in it?' 
 ' Why, she says so herself.' ' But she is a notorious liar/ 
 ' Oh, but she has confessed all her falsehoods, and is now giving 
 the true account/ 
 
 These persons seem to have considered Mendacity as a 
 disease similar to Measles or Smallpox, from which a man is 
 exempted by having once had it ! 
 
 The operation of this strange principle has been largely ex- 
 perienced by those mentioned just above as having not only 
 acted on, but avowed and defended the system of ' Reserve/ 
 ' Economy/ ' Phenakism/ or * Double-doctrine/ Many, 
 even of those who have not joined their party, give them credit 
 for sincerity ; on the ground, apparently, of their having frankly 
 proclaimed their insincerity. 1 
 
 1 See Cautions for the Times, No. xiii. See also Dr. West's Discourse on 
 ' Reserve. 5 (Fellowes.) See also the Essay on ' Simulation.'
 
 ESSAY II. OF DEATH. 
 
 MEN fear death as children fear to go into the dark ; and 
 as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, 
 so is the other. Certainly, the contemplation of death, as the 
 wages of sin, and passage to another world, is holy and reli- 
 gious ; but the fear of it, as a fribute 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 quarn mors 
 ipsa.' 1 Groans, and convulsions, and a discoloured 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 2 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 wiu 
 the combat of him. Revenge triumphs over death: love 
 slights it; honour aspireth to it; grief flieth to it; fear 
 pre-occupateth 3 it ; nay, we read, after Otho the Emperor 
 had slain himself, pity (which is the tenderest of affections) pro- 
 
 1 ' The pomp of death is more terrible than death itself." Probably suggested 
 by a letter of Seneca to Lucilius, 24. 
 
 2 Mate. To subdue ; vanquish; overpower. 
 
 ' The Frenchmen he hath so mated 
 And their courage abated, 
 That they are but half men.' Skelton. 
 
 ' My sense she has mated.' Shakespere. 
 So to give check-mate. 
 
 3 Preoccupate. To anticipate. 
 
 'To provide so tenderly by preoccupation, 
 As no spider may suck poison out of a rose.' Garnet.
 
 Essay ii.] Of Death. 17 
 
 voked 1 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/ 2 ' 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 to the last instant. Augustus Caesar died in a compli- 
 ment : 'Livia, conjugii nostri memor vive, et vale/ 3 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 Roman!/ 5 holding forth his 
 neck : Septimus Severus in dispatch, ' Adeste, si quid mihi 
 restat agendum/ 6 and the like. Certainly the Stoics bestowed 
 too much cost upon death, and by their great preparations made 
 it appear more fearful. Better, saith he, ' qui finem vitse ex- 
 tremum inter munera ponat naturae/ 7 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 some- 
 what that is good, doth avert the dolours 8 of death : but, above 
 all, believe it, the sweetest canticle is, ( Nunc dimittis/ 9 when a 
 man hath obtained worthy ends and expectations. Death hath 
 this also, that it openeth the gate to good fame, and extin- 
 guisheth envy : ' Extinctus amabitur idem/ 10 
 
 1 Provoke. To excite ; to move (to exertion or feeling of any kind, not, as now, 
 merely to anger). ' Your zeal hath provoked very many.' 2 Cor. ix. 2. 
 
 2 Ad I/ucil. 'j'j. 
 
 3 'Li via, mindful of our wedlock, live, and farewell.' Suet. Aug. Vit. c. 100. 
 
 4 ' His powers and bodily strength had abandoned Tiberius, but not his dissimu- 
 lation.' Annal. vi. 50. 
 
 5 ' Strike, if it be for the benefit of the Roman people.' Tacit. Hist. i. 41. 
 
 6 ' Hasten, if anything remains for me to do.' Dio Gas. 76, ad Jin. 
 
 7 ' He who accounts the close of life among the boons of nature.' Juv. Sat. 357. 
 
 8 Dolours. Paim. 
 
 ' He drew the dolours from the wounded part.' Pope's Homer, 
 
 9 * Now lettest thou thy servant depart.' LuTce ii. 29. 
 10 ' The same man shall be beloved when dead.'
 
 j8 Of Death. [Essay ii. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON DEATH, 
 
 PHO. CONTRA. 
 
 ' Non invenias inter humanos affectum ' Prsestat ad omnia, etiam ad virtu- 
 
 tarn pusillvim, qui si intendatur panlo tern, curriculum longum, quam breve, 
 vchementius, non mortis metum superet. ' In all things, even in virtue, a long 
 
 ' There is no human passion so weak race is more conducive to success than a 
 and contemptible, that it may not easily short one.' 
 le so heightened as to overcome the fear 
 
 of death.' 'Absque spatiis vitse majoribus, nee 
 
 perficere datur, nee perdiscere, nee 
 poenitere. 
 
 ' It is only in a long life that time is 
 afforded us to complete anything, to 
 learn anything thoroughly, or to reform 
 oneself' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' There is no passion in the mind of man so weak, but it mates 
 and masters the fear of death' 
 
 Of all the instances that can be given of recklessness of life, 
 there is none that comes near that of the workmen employed 
 in what is called dry-pointing ; the grinding of needles and of 
 table-forks. The fine steel-dust which they breathe brings on a 
 painful disease of which they are almost sure to die before forty. 
 And yet not only are men tempted by high wages to engage in 
 this employment, but they resist to the utmost all the con- 
 trivances devised for diminishing the danger ; through fear that 
 this would cause more workmen to offer themselves, and thus 
 lower wages ! 
 
 The case of sailors, soldiers, miners, and others who engage 
 in hazardous employments, is nothing in comparison of this ; 
 because people of a sanguine temper hope to escape the dangers. 
 13ut the dry- pointers have to encounter, not the risk, but the 
 certainty, of an early and painful death. The thing would seem 
 incredible, if it were not so fully attested. All this proves that 
 avarice overcomes the fear of death. And so may vanity : witness 
 the many women who wear tight dresses, and will even employ 
 washes for the complexion which they know to be highly dan- 
 gerous and even destructive to their health.
 
 Essay ii.] Annotations. 19 
 
 Still more strange is what is reported, on good authority, 
 of the Chinese. It is said to happen not unfrequently, that a 
 man under sentence of death will hire another to take his place ; 
 who, for a sum of no great amount, will submit to death, and 
 that, by torture (according to the barbarous practice of the 
 country), for the sake of securing a provision for his family, 
 and also (what the Chinese make a great point of) a handsome 
 burial-place for himself! 
 
 ' Certainly the contemplation of death, as the wages of sin and 
 the passage to another world, is holy and religious' 
 
 It is when considered as the passage to another world that 
 the contemplation of death becomes holy and religious; th'at 
 is, calculated to promote a state of preparedness for our setting 
 out on this great voyage, our departure from this world to 
 enter the other. It is manifest that those who are engrossed 
 with the things that pertain to this life alone; who are devoted 
 to worldly pleasure, to worldly gain, honour, or power, are cer- 
 tainly not preparing themselves for the passage into another : 
 while it is equally manifest that the change of heart, of desires, 
 wishes, tastes, thoughts, dispositions, which constitutes a meet- 
 ness for entrance into a happy, holy, heavenly state, the hope 
 of which can indeed ' mate and master the fear of death/ 
 must take place here on earth ; not after death. 
 
 There is a remarkable phenomenon connected with insect 
 life which has often occurred to my mind while meditating on 
 the subject of preparedness for a future state, as presenting a 
 curious analogy. 
 
 Most persons know that every butterfly (the Greek name for 
 which, it is remarkable, is the same that signifies also the 
 Soul, Psyche] comes from a grub or caterpillar; in the language 
 of naturalists called a larva. The last name (which signifies 
 literally a mask) was introduced by Linnseus, because the cater- 
 pillar is a kind of outward covering, or disguise, of the future 
 butterfly within. For, it has been ascertained by curious micro- 
 scopic examination, that a distinct butterfly, only undeveloped 
 and not full-grown, is contained within the body of the cater- 
 pillar ; that this latter has its own organs of digestion, respira- 
 tion, &c., suitable to its larva-life, quite distinct from, and inde- 
 
 C 2
 
 2O Of Death. [Essay ii. 
 
 pendent of, the future butterfly which it encloses. When the 
 proper period arrives, and the life of the insect, in this its first 
 stage, is to close, it becomes what is called a pupa, enclosed in 
 a chrysalis or cocoon (often composed of silk ; as is that of the 
 silkworm which supplies us that important article), and lies 
 torpid for a time within this natural coffin, from which it 
 issues, at the proper period, as a perfect butterfly. 
 
 But sometimes this process is marred. There is a numerous 
 tribe of insects well known to naturalists, called Ichneumon- 
 flies ; which in their larva-state are parasitical; that is, inhabit, 
 and feed on, other larvae. The ichneumon-fly, being provided 
 with a long sharp sting, which is in fact an ovipositor (egg- 
 layer), pierces with this the body of the caterpillar in several 
 places, and deposits her eggs, which are there hatched, and 
 feed, as grubs (larvae) on the inward parts of their victim. A 
 most wonderful circumstance connected with this process is, 
 that a caterpillar which has been thus attacked goes on feeding, 
 and apparently thriving quite as well, during the whole of its 
 larva-life, as those that have escaped. For, by a wonderful 
 provision of instinct, the ichneumon-grubs within do not injure 
 any of the organs of the larva, but feed only on the future 
 butterfly enclosed within it. And consequently, it is hardly 
 possible to distinguish a caterpillar which has these enemies 
 within it from those that are untouched. But when the period 
 arrives for the close of the larva-life, the difference appears. 
 You may often observe the common cabbage-caterpillars retiring, 
 to undergo their change, into some sheltered spot, such as the 
 walls of a summer-house ; and some of them those that have 
 escaped the parasites, assuming the pupa-state, from which 
 they emerge, butterflies. Of the unfortunate caterpillar that 
 has been preyed upon, nothing remains but an empty skin. 
 The hidden butterfly has been secretly consumed. 
 
 Now is there not something analogous to this wonderful 
 phenomenon, in the condition of some of our race ? may not 
 a man have a kind of secret enemy within his own bosom, de- 
 stroying his soul, Psyche, though without interfering with 
 his well-being during the present stage of his existence ; and 
 whose presence may never be detected till the time arrives 
 when the last great change should take place ?
 
 Essay ii.] Annotations. 21 
 
 'Death hath this also, that it openeth the gate to good fame, and 
 extinguisheth envy.' 
 
 Bacon might have added, that the generosity extended to 
 the departed is sometimes carried rather to an extreme. To 
 abstain from censure of them is fair enough. But to make 
 an ostentatious parade of the supposed admirable qualities of 
 persons who attracted no notice in their life-time, and again 
 (which is much more common), to publish laudatory biographies 
 (to say nothing of raising subscriptions for monumental testi- 
 monials) of persons who did attract notice in a disreputable 
 way, and respecting whom it would have been the kindest thing 
 to let them be forgotten, this is surely going a little too far. 
 
 But private friends and partisans are tempted to pursue this 
 course by the confidence that no one will come forward to con- 
 tradict them : according to the lines of Swift, 
 
 ' De mortuis nil nisi bonum ; 
 When scoundrels die, let all bemoan 'em.' 
 
 Then, again, there are some who bestow eulogisms that are 
 really just, on persons whom they had always been accustomed 
 to revile, calumniate, thwart, and persecute on every occasion ; 
 and this they seem to regard as establishing their own character 
 for eminent generosity. Nor are they usually mistaken in 
 their calculation ; for if not absolutely commended for their 
 magnanimous moderation, they usually escape, at least, the 
 well-deserved reproach for not having done justice, during his 
 life, to the object of their posthumous praises, for having been 
 occupied in opposing and insulting one who by their own 
 showing deserved quite contrary treatment. 
 
 It may fairly be suspected that the one circumstance respect- 
 ing him which they secretly dwell on with the most satisfaction, 
 though they do not mention it, is that he is dead ; and that 
 they delight in bestowing their posthumous honours on him, 
 chiefly because they are posthumous ; according to the conclud- 
 ing couplet in the Verses on the Death of Dean Swift : 
 
 ' And since you dread no further lashes, 
 Methinks you may forgive his ashes.' 
 
 But the Public is wonderfully tolerant of any persons who 
 will but, in any way, speak favourably of the dead, even when 
 by so doing they pronounce their own condemnation.
 
 22 Of Death. [Essay ii. 
 
 Sometimes, however, the opposite fault is committed. Strong 
 party feeling will lead zealous partisans to misrepresent the con- 
 duct and character of the deceased, or to ignore (according to 
 the modern phrase) some of the most remarkable things done 
 by him. 1 
 
 But then they generally put in for the praise of generosity 
 by eulogizing some very insignificant acts, and thus ' damn with 
 faint praise.' 
 
 1 See an instance of this alluded to in the Remains of Bishop Copleston, 
 pp. 8993.
 
 ESSAY III. OF UNITY IN RELIGION. 
 
 T)ELIGION being the chief bond of human society, it is a 
 \> happy thing when itself is well contained within the true 
 bond of unity. The quarrels and divisions about religion were 
 evils unknown to the heathen. The reason was, because the 
 religion of the heathen 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 1 and fathers of their 
 church were the poets. But the true God hath this attribute, 
 that He is a jealous God ; 2 and therefore his worship and reli- 
 gion will endure no mixture nor partner. We shall therefore 
 speak a few words concerning the unity of the Church; what 
 are the fruits thereof; what the bonds; and what the means. 
 
 The fruits of unity (next unto the well-pleasing of God, 
 which is all in all) are two; 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 3 is worse than a corrupt humour, so in the spiritual : 
 so that nothing doth so much keep men out of the Church, and 
 drive men out of the Church, as breach of unity ; and, there- 
 fore, whensoever it cometh to that pass that one saith, ' Ecce 
 in deserto/ 4 another saith, 'Ecce in peuetralibus/ 5 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/ 6 The Doctor 
 of the Gentiles (the propriety 7 of whose vocation 8 drew him to 
 
 1 Doctors. Teachers. ' Sitting in the midst of the doctors' Luke ii. 46. 
 
 2 Exodus xx. 5. 
 
 3 Solution of continuity. The destruction of the texture, or cohesion of the parts 
 of an animal body. ' The solid parts may be contracted by dissolving their con- 
 tinuity.' Arbuthnot. 
 
 4 ' Lo ! in the desert.' 8 ' Lo ! in the sanctuary.' Matt. xxiv. 26. 
 6 ' Go not out.' ? Propriety. Peculiar quality ; property. 
 
 8 Vocation. Calling ; state of life and duties of the embraced prof ession. 'That 
 every member of thy holy church in his vocation and ministry.' Collect for Good 
 Friday.
 
 24 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 have a special care of those without) saith, ' If a heathen come 
 in, and hear you speak with several tongues, will he not say 
 that you are mad ?' 1 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 e 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 : 3 
 for, indeed, every sect of them hath a diverse 4 posture, or 
 cringe/ by themselves, which cannot but move derision in 
 worldlings and depraved politics, 6 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 labours of writing 
 and reading controversies into treatises of mortification" and 
 devotion. 
 
 Concerning the bonds of unity, the true placing of them 
 importeth 8 exceedingly. There appear to be two extremes ; for 
 to certain zealots all speech of pacification is odious. ' Is it 
 peace, Jehu ?' ' What hast thou to do with peace ? turn thee 
 
 1 I Cor. xiv. 23. 
 
 2 Avert. To repel ; to turn away. ' Even cut themselves off from all oppor- 
 tunities of proselytizing others by averting them from their company.' Venn. 
 
 3 Rabelais. Pantag. ii, 7. 
 
 4 Diverse. Different. ' Four great beasts came up from the sea, diverse one 
 from another.' Daniel vii. 3. 
 
 4 Cringe. A bow. Seldom used as a- substantive. 
 
 ' Far from me 
 
 Be fawning cringe, and false dissembling looks.' Phillips, 
 ' He is the new court-god, and well applyes 
 With sacrifice of knees, of crooks, and cringe.' Sen Jonson. 
 
 6 Politics. Politicians. ' That which time-servers and politics do for earthly 
 advantages, we will do for spiritual.' Bishop Hall. 
 
 7 Mortification. The subduing of sinful propensities. (Our modern use never 
 occurs in Scripture, where the word always means ' to put to death.') ' You see 
 no real mortification, or self-denial, or eminent charity in the common lives of 
 Christians.' Lawe. 
 
 8 Import. To be of weight or consequence. 
 
 ' What else more serious 
 Importeth thee to know this bears.' SliaJcespere.
 
 Essay iii.] Of Unity in Religion. 25 
 
 behind me.' 1 Peace is not the matter, but following and party. 
 Contrariwise, certain Laodiceans and lukewarm persons think 
 they may accommodate 2 points of religion by middle ways, and 
 taking part of both, and witty 3 reconcilements, as if they would 
 make an arbitrement 4 between God and man. Both these 
 extremes are to be avoided ; which will be done if the league of 
 Christians, penned by our Saviour Himself, were in the two 
 cross clauses thereof soundly and plainly expounded : ' He that 
 is not with us is against us ;' and again, ' He that is not 
 against us is with us ;' that is, if the points fundamental, and 
 of substance in religion, were truly discerned and distinguished 
 from points not merely 5 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, nor worth the heat and 
 strife about it, kindled only by contradiction ; for, as it is noted 
 by one of the fathers, Christ's coat indeed had no seam, but the 
 Church's vesture was of divers colours ; whereupon he saith, * In 
 veste varietas sit, scissura non sit,' 6 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 
 
 1 T Kings ix. 13. 
 
 2 Accommodate. To reconcile what seems inconsistent. ' Part know how to 
 accommodate St. James and St. Paul better than some late reconcilers.' Norris. 
 
 3 Witty. Ingenious ; inventive. 
 
 ' The deep-revolving witty Buckingham.' -Shakespere. 
 
 4 Arbitrement. Final decision ; judgment. 
 
 ' We of the offending side 
 Must keep aloof from strict arbitrements.' Shakespere. 
 
 5 Merely. Absolutely ; purely ; unreservedly (from the Latin merus). 
 
 ' We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.' Shakespere. 
 
 6 ' Let there be variety in the robe, but let there be no rent.'
 
 26 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 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 1 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 pro- 
 fauas vocum novitates et oppositiones falsi nominis scientiie.' " 
 Men create oppositions which are not, and put them into new 
 terms so fixed ; as 3 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 
 colours will agree in the dark : the other, when it is pieced up 
 upon a direct admission of contraries in fundamental points; for 
 truth and falsehood in such things are like the iron and clay in 
 the toes of Nebuchadnezzar's image 4 they may cleave but they 
 will not incorporate. 
 
 Concerning the means of procuring unity, men must beware, 
 that in the procuring or muniting 5 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 the 
 temporal, and both have their due office and place in the main- 
 tenance 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 con- 
 sciences except it be in cases of overt scandal, blasphemy, or 
 intermixture of practice against the state; much less to nourish 
 seditions; to authorise 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 ; 
 
 1 Accept of. To approve ; receive favourably. ' I will appease him with the 
 present that goeth before me, . . . peradventure he will accept of me.' Gen. xxxii. 
 
 3 ' Avoid profane and vain babblings, and oppositions of science falsely so called.' 
 \ Tim. vi. 20. 
 
 3 As. That (denoting consequence). ' The mariners were so conquered by the storm 
 as they thought it best with stricken sails to yield to be governed by it.' Sidney. 
 
 4 Daniel ii. 33. 
 
 * Muniting. The defending ; fortifying. ' By protracting of tyme, King Henry 
 might fortify and munite all dangerous places and passages.' Hall. ' All that 
 light against her and her munitions' Jer. xxix. 7. 
 
 ' The arm our soldier, 
 
 Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter, 
 With other muniments and petty helps.' Shakespere.
 
 Essay iii.] Of Unity in Religion. 27 
 
 for this is but to dash the first table against the second ; and 
 so to consider men as Christians, as 1 we forget that they 
 are men. Lucretius the poet, when he beheld the act of Aga- 
 memnon, that could endure the sacrificing of his own daughter, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 'Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum.' 2 
 
 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 3 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 to the anabaptists 
 and other furies. It was great blasphemy when the devil said, 
 ' I will ascend and be like the Highest ;' 4 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 i-eligion to descend to the cruel 
 and execrable actions of murdering princes, butchery of people, 
 and subversion of states and governments ? Surely this is to 
 bring down the Holy Ghost, instead of the likeness of a dove, 
 in the shape of a vulture or raven ; and to set out of the bark 
 of a Christian Church, a flag of a bark of pirates and assassins : 
 therefore it is most necessary that the Church, by doctrine and 
 decree, princes by their sword, and all learning, both Christian 
 and moral, as by their mercury rod to damn and send to hell 
 for ever, those facts and opinions tending to the support of the 
 same, as hath been already in good part done. Surely in 
 councils concerning religion, that counsel of the Apostle should 
 be prefixed, ' Ira hominis non implet justitiam Dei;' 5 and it was 
 a notable observation of a wise father, and no less ingenuously 
 confessed, that those which held and persuaded 6 pressure of 
 consciences, were commonly interested therein themselves for 
 their own ends. 
 
 1 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 2 ' So many evils could religion induce.' Lucret. i. 95. 
 
 3 Epicure. Epicurean; a follower of Epicurus. ' Here he describeth the fury 
 of the Epicures, which is the highest and deepest mischief of all; even to contempne 
 the very God.' 4 Isaiah xiv. 14. 
 
 5 ' The wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God.' James i. 20. 
 
 6 Persuade. To inculcate. 'To children afraid of vain images, we persuade 
 confidence by making them handle and look near such things.' Bishop Taylor.
 
 28 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 f It is a happy thing when Religion is well contained within the 
 true bond of unity' * 
 
 It is, therefore, very important to have a clear notion of the 
 nature of the Christian unity spoken of in, the Scriptures, and 
 to understand in what this ' true bond of unity' consists, so 
 often alluded to and earnestly dwelt on by our Sacred Writers. 
 The unity they speak of does not mean agreement in doctrine, 
 nor yet concord and mutual good will ; though these are strongly 
 insisted on by the Apostles. Nor, again, does it mean that all 
 Christians belong, or ought to belong, to some one society on 
 earth. This is what the Apostles never aimed at, and what 
 never was actually the state of things, from the time that the 
 Christian religion extended beyond the city of Jerusalem. The 
 Church is undoubtedly one, and so is the human race one ; but 
 riot as a society or community, for, as such, it is only one when 
 considered as to its future existence. 2 The teaching of Scrip- 
 ture clearly is, that believers on earth are part of a great society 
 (church or congregation), of which the Head is in heaven, and 
 of which many of the members only * live unto God/ or exist 
 in his counsels, some having long since departed, and some 
 being not yet born. The universal Church of Christ may there- 
 fore be said to be ONE in reference to HIM, its supreme Head 
 in heaven but it is not one community on earth. And even 
 so the human race is one in respect of the One Creator and 
 Governor ; but this does not make it one family or one state. 
 And though all men are bound to live in peace, and to 
 be kindly disposed towards every fellow-creature, and all bound 
 to agree in thinking and doing whatever is right, yet they 
 are not at all bound to live under one single government, 
 extending over the whole world. Nor, again, are all nations 
 bound to have the same form of government, regal or repub- 
 lican, &c. That is a matter left to their discretion. But all 
 are bound to do their best to promote the great objects for 
 which all government is instituted, good order, justice, and 
 public prosperity. 
 
 1 Great part of what follows is extracted from a Charge of some years back. 
 3 See Bishop Hinds' History of the Origin of Christianity. See also Cautions 
 for the Times, No. 2.
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 29 
 
 And even so the Apostles founded Christian Churches, all 
 based on the same principles, all sharing common privileges, 
 ' One Lord, one faith, one baptism/ and all having the same 
 object in view, but all quite independent of each other. And 
 while, by the inspiration of Him who knew what was in Man, 
 they delineated those Christian principles which Man could not 
 have devised for himself, each Church has been left, by the 
 same divine foresight, to make the application of those princi- 
 ples in its symbols, its forms of worship, and its ecclesiastical 
 regulations ; and, while steering its course by the chart and 
 compass which his holy Word supplies, to regulate for itself the 
 sails and rudder, according to the winds and currents it may 
 meet with. 
 
 Now, I have little doubt that the sort of variation resulting 
 from this independence and freedom, so far from breaking the 
 bond, is the best preservative of it. A number of neighbouring 
 families, living in perfect unity, will be thrown into discord as 
 soon as you compel them to form one family, and to observe in 
 things intrinsically indifferent, the same rules. One, for in- 
 stance, likes early hours, and another late ; one likes the windows 
 open, and another shut ; and thus, by being brought top close 
 together, they are driven into ill-will, by one being perpetually 
 forced to give way to another. Of this character were the dis- 
 putations which arose (though they subsequently assumed a 
 different character) about church-music, the posture of the com- 
 municants, the colours of a minister's dress, the time of keeping 
 Easter, &c. 
 
 This independence of each Church is not to be confounded 
 with the error of leaving too much to individual discretion of 
 the minister or members of each Church. To have absolutely 
 no terms of communion at all, no tests of the fitness of any 
 one to be received as a member, or a member of each Church 
 respectively, would be to renounce entirely the character of a 
 Christian Church ; since of such a body it is plain that a Jew, 
 a Polytheist, or an Atheist might, quite as consistently as a 
 Christian, be a member, or even a governor. And though the 
 Scriptures, and the Scriptures only, are to be appealed to for a 
 decision on questions of doctrine, yet to have (as some have 
 wildly proposed) no test of communion but the very words of 
 Scripture, would be scarcely less extravagant than having no
 
 30 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 test at all, since there is no one professing Christianity who 
 does not maintain that his sentiments are in accordance with 
 the true meaning of Scripture, however absurd or pernicious 
 these sentiments may really be. For it is notorious that 
 Scripture itself is at least as liable as human formularies (and 
 indeed more so) to have forced interpretations put on its 
 language. 
 
 Accordingly, there is no Christian community which does 
 not, in some way or other, apply some other test besides the 
 very words of Scripture. Some churches, indeed, do not 
 reduce any such test to writing, or express it in any fixed 
 form, so as to enable every one to know beforehand precisely 
 how much he will be required to bind himself to. But, never- 
 theless, these Churches do apply a test, and very often a much 
 more stringent, elaborate, and minute test than our Liturgy and 
 Articles. In such communities, the candidate-pastor of a 
 congregation is not, to be sure, called on to subscribe in writing 
 a definite confession of faith, drawn up by learned and pious 
 persons after mature deliberation, and publicly set forth by 
 common authority, but he is called upon to converse with the 
 leading members of the congregation, and satisfy them as to 
 the soundness of his views ; not, of course, by merely repeating 
 texts of Scripture which a man of any views might do, and do 
 honestly ; but by explaining the sense in which he understands 
 the Scriptures. Thus, instead of subscribing the Thirty-nine 
 Articles, he subscribes the sentiments of the leading members 
 for the time being of that particular congregation over which 
 he is to be placed as teacher. 1 
 
 And thus it is that tests of some kind or other, written or 
 unwritten (that is, transmitted by oral tradition), fixed for the 
 whole Body, or variable, according to the discretion of par- 
 ticular governors, are, and must be, used in every Christian 
 Church. This is doing no more than is evidently allowable 
 and expedient. But it is quite otherwise when any Church, 
 by an unwarrantable assumption, requires all who would claim 
 
 1 Cautions for the Times, p. 451. I have known, accordingly, a minister of a 
 continental Protestant Church strongly object to all subscriptions to Articles, say- 
 ing, that a man should only be called on to profess his belief in Jesus Christ j and 
 yet, a few minutes afterwards, denouncing as a ' Rationalist ' another Protestant 
 minister.
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 31 
 
 the Christian name to assent to her doctrines and conform to 
 her worship, whether they approve of them or not, to renounce 
 all exercise of their own judgment, and to profess belief in what- 
 ever the Church has received or may hereafter receive. 
 
 ' The religion of the heathen consisted rather in rites and cere- 
 monies than in any constant religious belief. . . . But the 
 true God hath this attribute/ &c. 
 
 Bacon here notices the characteristic that distinguishes the 
 Christian religion from the religion of the heathen. The reli- 
 gion of the heathen not only was not true, but was not even 
 supported as true; it not only deserved no belief, but it 
 demanded none. The very pretension to truth the very de- 
 mand of faith were characteristic distinctions of Christianity. 
 It is truth resting on evidence, and requiring belief in it, on 
 the ground of its truth. The first object, therefore, of the 
 adherents of such a religion must be that Truth which its divine 
 Author pointed out as defining the very nature of his kingdom, 
 of his objects, and of his claims. f For this cause came I into 
 the world, that I might bear witness unto the truth. Every one 
 that is of the truth heareth my voice.' * And if Truth could be 
 universally attained, Unity would be attained also, since Truth 
 is one. On the other hand, Unity may conceivably be attained 
 by agreement in error ; so that while by the universal adoption 
 of a right faith, unity would be secured, incidentally, the attain- 
 ment of unity would be no security for truth. 
 
 It is in relation to the paramount claim of truth that the 
 view we have given of the real meaning of Church Unity in 
 Scripture is of so much importance ; for, the mistake of repre- 
 senting it as consisting in having one community on earth, to 
 which all Christians belong, or ought to belong, and to whose 
 government all are bound to submit, has led to truth being 
 made the secondary, and not the paramount, object. 2 
 
 What the Romanist means by renouncing ' private judgment* 
 and adhering to the decisions of the Church, is, substantially, 
 what many Protestants express by saying, ' We make truth the 
 first and paramount object, and the others, unity.' The two 
 
 1 John xviii. 37. 2 See Charge on the Claims of Truth and of Unity.
 
 32 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 expressions, when rightly understood, denote the same ; but 
 they each require some explanation to prevent their being 
 understood incorrectly, and even unfairly. 
 
 A Roman Catholic does exercise private judgment, once for 
 all, if (not through carelessness, but on earnest and solemn deli- 
 beration) he resolves to place himself completely under the 
 guidance of that Church (as represented by his priest) which he 
 judges to have been divinely appointed for that purpose. And 
 in so doing he considers himself, not as manifesting indifference 
 about truth, but as taking the way by which he will attain 
 either complete and universal religious truth, or at least a 
 greater amount of it than could have been attained otherwise. 
 To speak of such a person as indifferent about truth, would be 
 not only uncharitable, but also as unreasonable as to suppose a 
 man indifferent about his health, or about his property, because, 
 distrusting his own judgment on points of medicine or of law, 
 he places himself under the direction of those whom he has 
 judged to be the most trustworthy physician and lawyer. 
 
 On the other hand a Protestant, in advocating private judg- 
 ment, does not, as some have represented, necessarily maintain 
 that every man should set himself to study and interpret for 
 himself the Scriptures (which, we should recollect, are written 
 in the Hebrew and Greek languages), without seeking or accept- 
 ing aid from any instructors, whether under the title of trans- 
 lators (for a translator, who claims no inspiration, is, manifestly, 
 a human instructor of the people as to the sense of Scripture), 
 or whether called commentators, preachers, or by whatever 
 other name. Indeed, considering the multitude of tracts, 
 commentaries, expositions, and discourses of various forms, that 
 have been put forth and assiduously circulated by Protestants 
 of all denominations, for the avowed purpose (be it well or ill 
 executed) of giving religious instruction, it is really strange 
 that such an interpretation as I have alluded to should ever 
 have been put on the phrase ' private judgment/ For, to 
 advert to a parallel case of daily occurrence, all would recom- 
 mend a student of mathematics, for instance, or of any branch 
 of natural philosophy, to seek the aid of a well-qualified pro- 
 fessor or tutor. And yet he would be thought to have studied 
 in vain, if he should ever think of taking on trust any mathe- 
 matical or physical truth on the word of his instructors. It is,
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 33 
 
 on the contrary, their part to teach him how by demonstration 
 or by experiment to verify each point for himself. 
 
 On the other hand, the adherents of a Church claiming to be 
 infallible on all essential points, and who, consequently, pro- 
 fess to renounce private judgment, these (besides that, as has 
 been just said, they cannot but judge for themselves as to one 
 point that very claim itself) have also room for the exercise of 
 judgment, and often do exercise it, on questions as to what 
 points are essential, and for which, consequently, infallible recti- 
 tude is insured. Thus the Jansenists, when certain doctrines 
 were pronounced heretical by the Court of Rome, which con- 
 demned Jansenius for maintaining them, admitted, as in duty 
 bound, the decision that they were heretical, but denied that 
 they were implied in Jansenius's writings ; and of this latter 
 point the Pope, they said, was no more qualified or authorized 
 to decide than any other man. And we should be greatly 
 mistaken if we were to assume that all who have opposed what 
 we are accustomed to call ' the Reformation ' were satisfied that 
 there was nothing in their Church that needed reform, or were 
 necessarily indifferent about the removal of abuses. We know 
 that, on the contrary, many of them pointed out and complained 
 of, and studied to have remedied, sundry corruptions that had 
 crept into their Church, and which were, in many instances, 
 sanctioned by its highest authorities. 
 
 Sincere, one must suppose, and strong, must have been the 
 conviction of several who both did and suffered much in labour- 
 ing after such remedy. And it would be absurd, as well as 
 uncharitable, to take for granted that Erasmus, for instance, 
 and, still more, Pascal and all the Jansenists, were withheld 
 merely by personal fear, or other personal motives, from revolt- 
 ing against the Church of Rome. But they conceived, no 
 doubt, that what they considered Church-Unity was to be pre- 
 served at any cost ; that a separation from what they regarded 
 as the Catholic (or Universal) Church, was a greater evil than 
 all others combined. If, without loss of unity, they could suc- 
 ceed in removing any of those other evils, for such a reform 
 they would gladly labour. But, if not, to Unity anything and 
 everything was to be sacrificed. 
 
 Such seems to have been the sentiment of a Roman-catholic 
 priest, apparently a man of great simplicity of character, who, 
 
 D
 
 34 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 about three or four years ago, had interviews, at his own desire, 
 with several of our bishops. He spoke very strongly of the 
 unseemly and lamentable spectacle (and who could not but 
 agree with him in thinking it?) of disunion and contention 
 among Christ's professed followers ; and he dwelt much upon 
 the duty of earnestly praying and striving for unity. 
 
 In reference to this point, it was thought needful to remind 
 him, that two parties, while apparently agreeing in their prayers 
 and endeavours for unity, might possibly mean by it different 
 things ; the one understanding by it the submission of all 
 Christians to the government of one single ecclesiastical com- 
 munity on earth ; the other, merely mutual kindness, and agree- 
 ment in faith. Several passages of Scripture were pointed out 
 to him, tending to prove that the Churches founded by the 
 Apostles were all quite independent of each other, or of any 
 one central Body. To one among the many passages which go 
 to prove this, I directed his especial attention ; that in which 
 Paul's final interview (as he believed it) with the elders of 
 Miletus and Ephesus is recorded (Acts xx.). Foreseeing the 
 dangers to which they would be exposed, even from false teachers 
 amongst themselves, and of which he had been earnestly warn- 
 ing them for three years, it is inconceivable that he should not 
 have directed them to Peter or his successors at Rome or else- 
 where, if he had known of any central supreme Church, pro- 
 vided as an infallible guide, to whose decisions they might 
 safely refer when doubts or disputes should arise. It follows 
 therefore inevitably that he knew of none. But all Christians 
 were exhorted to ' keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of 
 peace/ Such unity, the applicant was reminded (for he was 
 formerly a minister of our Church), is the subject of a special peti- 
 tion in our Prayer for all Conditions of Men, and in several others. 
 It was remarked to him, that Truth has a paramount claim 
 to be the first object ; and that since Truth is one, all who 
 reach Truth will reach Unity; but that men may, and often 
 do, gain Unity without Truth. 
 
 He was reminded, moreover, that agreement among Chris- 
 tians, though an object we should wish for, and endeavour by 
 all allowable means to promote, must, after all, depend on others 
 as much as on ourselves ; and our endeavour may be com- 
 pletely defeated through their fault : whereas truth is a benefit
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 35 
 
 and a benefit of the first importance to those who receive it 
 themselves, even though they should have to lament its rejection 
 by many others. 
 
 And it was pointed out to him, that to pray and strive for 
 truth, and to be ever open to conviction, does not (as he seemed 
 to imagine) imply a wavering faith, and an anticipation of 
 change. When any one prints from moveable types, this does 
 not imply that he has committed, or that he suspects, typogra- 
 phical errors, any more than if he had employed an engraved 
 plate. The types are not moveable in the sense of being loose 
 and liable to casual change. He may be challenging all the 
 world to point out an error, showing that any can be corrected 
 if they do detect one ; though, perhaps, he is fully convinced 
 that there are none. 
 
 He was, in conclusion, reminded that 'no man can serve 
 two masters / not because they are necessarily opposed, but 
 because they are not necessarily combined, and cases may arise 
 in which the one must give way to the other. There is no 
 necessary opposition even between ' God and Mammon/ if by 
 f Mammon' we understand worldly prosperity. For it will 
 commonly happen that a man will thrive the better in the 
 world from the honesty, frugality, and temperance which he 
 may be practising from higher motives. And there is not even 
 anything necessarily wrong in aiming at temporal advantages. 
 But whoever is resolved on obtaining wealth in one way or 
 another (' si possis, recte ; si non, quocunque modo, rem') will 
 occasionally be led to violate duty ; and he, again, who is fully 
 bent on ' seeking first the kingdom of God and his righteous- 
 ness/ will sometimes find himself called on to incur temporal 
 losses. And so it is with the occasionally rival claims of Truth, 
 and of Unity, or of any two objects which may possibly be, in 
 some instance, opposed. We must make up our minds which 
 is, in that case, to give way. One must be the supreme, must 
 be the ' master/ 
 
 ' Either he will love the one and hate the other/ This 
 seems to refer to cases in which a radical opposition between 
 the two does exist : ' or else he will cleave to the one, 
 and despise (i.e. disregard and neglect) the other/ This 
 latter seems to be the description of those cases in which 
 there is no *such necessary opposition only, that cases will 
 
 D 2
 
 36 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 sometimes arise, in which the one or the other must be dis- 
 regarded. 
 
 ' When Atheists and profane persons do hear of so many and 
 contrary opinions in religion, it doth avert them from the 
 Church.' 
 
 One may meet with persons, not a few, who represent reli- 
 gious differences as, properly speaking, designed by the Most 
 High, and acceptable to Him. (See the extract from the 
 tragedy of Tamerlane in the Annotations on Essay XVI.) 
 
 Thus, in a very popular children's book (and such books often 
 make an impression which is, unconsciously, retained through 
 life), there is a short tale of a father exhibiting to his son the 
 diversities of worship among Christians of different denomina- 
 tions, and afterwards their uniting to aid a distressed neigh- 
 bour. The one, he tells the child, is ' a thing in which men 
 are born to differ ; and the other, one in which they are born 
 to agree/ Now it is true that persons of different persuasions 
 may, and often do, agree in practising the duties of humanity. 
 .But that they do not often differ, and differ very widely, not 
 only in their actual conduct, but in their principles of conduct, 
 is notoriously untrue. The writer of the tale must have over- 
 looked (or else meant his readers to overlook) the cruel abomi- 
 nations of Paganism, ancient and modern, the human sacri- 
 fices offered by some Pagans the widow-burning and other 
 atrocities of the Hindus; and (to come to the case of pro- 
 fessed Christians) the ' holy wars ' against the Huguenots and 
 the Vaudois, the Inquisition, and all the other instances of 
 persecution practised as a point of Christian duty. Certainly, 
 in whatever sense it is true that men are ' born to differ ' in 
 religion, in the same sense it is true that they are ' born to 
 differ ' in their moral practice as enjoined by their religion. 
 
 Somewhat to the same purpose writes the author of an able 
 article in the Edinburgh Review, and also of an article on this 
 volume, in the North British (Aug. 1857, p. 6), with whom I 
 partly agree and partly not. 
 
 This writer maintains (i) that all, or nearly all, the divisions 
 that have existed among Christians relate to points of a pro- 
 foundly mysterious, and purely speculative character.
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 37 
 
 (2.) That on these points the language of Scripture is so 
 obscure or ambiguous, that we must infer the Author of the 
 revelation to have designed that it should receive different 
 interpretations ; while, on all matters of practical morality, the 
 language is too plain to admit of doubt or difference of opinion. 
 
 (3.) That the dissent and schisms arising from diversity of 
 interpretations of Scripture are on the whole beneficial; because, 
 the union of great masses of men in one community does not 
 tend to their improvement, but the contrary. 
 
 (4.) That the inexpediency of persecution may be demon- 
 strated by an argument of universal application, one to which 
 a Mahometan or a Pagan must yield, as well as a Roman 
 Catholic or a Protestant ; namely, the impossibility of demon- 
 strating that what is persecuted is really error. 
 
 With all this, as I have said, I partly concur, and partly 
 not. 
 
 (I.) It is very true, and is a truth which I have most ear- 
 nestly dwelt on in many publications, that what is practical in 
 the Christian revelation is clearly, and fully, and frequently set 
 forth ; and that, on matters more of a speculative character, 
 we find in Scripture only slight and obscure hints. 1 
 
 But nevertheless it cannot be admitted that no passages of 
 a practical character have been variously interpreted ; or that 
 all, or nearly all, or all the most important, of the differences 
 that have divided Christians, relate to questions purely specu- 
 lative. Take, as one instance, that very early and very wide- 
 spread heresy, of the Gnostics ; most of whom were rank 
 Antinomians, teaching that they, as ' knowing the GospeP 
 (whence their name), were exempt from all moral duty, and 
 would be accounted righteous by imputation, without ' doing 
 righteousness.'' 2 
 
 These, John in his Epistles manifestly had in view ; and no 
 doubt Peter also, when he speaks of those who ' wrest the 
 Scriptures/ especially Paul's Epistles, ' to their own destruc- 
 tion/ They, doubtless, as well as their successors (for, under 
 various names Antinomians have always arisen from time to 
 
 1 This circumstance is pointed out as characteristic of our religion, in the Essay 
 (ist Series) on the ' Practical Character of Revelation,' and also in the Lectures 
 on a, Futwre State. 
 
 2 See John, Epis. i.
 
 2 8 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 time, down to this day 1 ), interpreted in their own way Paul's 
 doctrine that we are 'justified by faith, without the works of 
 the law.' Considering how earnestly that Apostle dwells on 
 the necessity of ' denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, and 
 living soberly and righteously/ it may seem very strange that 
 his language should have been thus ' wrested / and that he 
 should have been thought to be speaking of himself individually, 
 in his then-state, as being 'carnal, sold under sin/ when he 
 had just before been congratulating his hearers on being ' made 
 free from sin/ and just after, speaks of his walking ' not after 
 the flesh, but after the spirit/ * 
 
 But the fact, however strange, cannot be denied. And it is 
 as to the matter of fact that the question now is. For if it be 
 said that such and such passages are not 'susceptible of various 
 interpretations ' according to reasonable principles, this is what 
 most of the contending parties will be disposed to say, each, of 
 the texts they appeal to. They usually maintain, that to a fair 
 and intelligent judge they do not admit of any interpretation 
 but that which they themselves adopt. We can only reply, 
 that, in point of fact they have been variously interpreted. It 
 is probable, indeed, that, in very many instances, the various 
 interpretations of Scripture have been not the came, but the 
 effect of men's differences; and that, having framed certain 
 theories according to their own inclinations or fancies, they 
 have then sought to force Scripture into a support of these. 
 But still the fact remains, that men have differed in their 
 interpretations of Scripture, on the most important practical 
 questions. 
 
 Again, those Anabaptists who taught community of goods, 
 and who were thus striking at the root of all civil society, made 
 their appeal to Scripture. 3 So also do those who teach the 
 doctrine of complete non-resistance ; the consequence of which, 
 if adopted by any one nation, would be to give up the peace- 
 able as a prey to their unscrupulous neighbours. And so again 
 do those who advocate vows of celibacy. 4 
 
 The same may be said of the very principle itself of perse- 
 cution. The supposed duty (above alluded to) of putting do\vn 
 
 1 See Cautions for the Times, No. 26. 2 Rom. vlii. 
 
 3 Acts iv., xix., Matt, xxiv., and Mark x. 21. 4 Matt. xix. 12, and i Cor. vii.
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 39 
 
 false doctrine by the sword, or of excluding men from civil 
 rights on the ground of their religious opinions, has been 
 inculcated on Scripture-authority, not only by Romanists but 
 by Protestants also. Now this is surely a matter which 
 ' comes home to men's business and bosoms :' so that the 
 very question the Reviewer is occupied on that of toleration 
 or non-toleration turns out to be a religious question, most 
 emphatically of a practical character, and on which men have 
 disagreed. 
 
 Far from correct therefore is the observation made in a very 
 able Article (I believe by the same Writer) on Charles the 
 Fifth, in the Edinburgh Review for January, 1855 (p. 91), that 
 ' purely speculative questions are precisely those which have 
 been most furiously debated. They have created more hatred, 
 more bloodshed, more wars, and more persecution than all 
 practical questions put together/ The Writer forgets that one 
 of the chief ' practical questions ' is, the very one, whether 
 religious wars and persecutions are acceptable or odious in God's 
 sight. 
 
 Again, the Scripture-exhortations to ' unity ' have been inter- 
 preted by some as requiring all Christians to live under a single 
 ecclesiastical government; and the passages relating to the 
 Church, 1 and to the powers conferred on the Apostles, as 
 obliging us to renounce all private judgment, and submit 
 implicitly to whatever is decreed by the (supposed) Catholic 
 Church. Now this is most emphatically a practical question, 
 since it involves, not this or that particular point of practice, 
 but an indefinite number. Those who adopt the above inter- 
 pretations must be prepared to acquiesce, at the bidding of 
 their ecclesiastical rulers, in any the most gross superstitions 
 and the most revolting moral corruptions, however disapproved 
 by their own judgment, rather than exclude themselves (as they 
 think) altogether from the Gospel-covenant. 
 
 And the difference between Christians as to this point, 
 which for so many ages has divided so many millions, may be 
 considered as not only the most important of all the divisions 
 that have ever existed, but even greater than all the rest put 
 together. 
 
 1 Matt. xvi. 1 8, and xviii. 17.
 
 4<D Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 It cannot, therefore, be admitted that the practical precepts 
 of Scripture have never admitted of various interpretations ; or 
 that the questions of doctrine on which Christians have been 
 opposed are of a purely speculative character. 
 
 The difference, again, between the Christians and the unbe- 
 lieving Jews, which is, emphatically, on a practical point, turns 
 on the interpretations of the Scripture-prophecies ; which the 
 Jews of old (as at this day also) interpreted as relating to a 
 Messiah who should be a great temporal prince and deliverer. 
 And it was on that ground that they put to death the Lord 
 Jesus as a blasphemous impostor. Indeed, a modern writer 
 (speaking, we may presume, in bitter irony, and meaning a scoff 
 at Christians) represents that murder as ' no crime? because by 
 the sacrifice of Christ mankind were redeemed. 
 
 However clear to us may be the prophecies of a suffering 
 Messiah, it cannot be said, looking to the fact, that ' they 
 admit of no differences of interpretation/ And it is conceivable 
 that they might have been so expressed as to force all men into 
 the reception of Jesus ; if, at least, there had been also such 
 ' signs from Heaven' as they looked for ; if, that is, He had been 
 seen descending from the clouds, accompanied by Moses and 
 Elias, in the splendour which He displayed to three Apostles at 
 the Transfiguration ; and if He had always appeared sur- 
 rounded by a supernatural light (called a GLORY) as painters are 
 accustomed to represent Him, and as he appeared to John the 
 Baptist. 
 
 But as it is, ' because they knew Him not, nor yet the 
 voices of the prophets, which are read every Sabbath day, they 
 fulfilled them in condemning Him/ 1 
 
 (II.) I most fully admit that, in things confessedly beyond 
 human reason, we ought to acquiesce in the scanty and obscure 
 intimations given us in Revelation ; not presuming to frame, on 
 such points, explanations of what Scripture has left unexplained ; 
 nor (much less) to condemn, as unhappily has so often been 
 done, our fellow-Christians who may reject those explanations ; 
 and on such grounds to create hostile separation. 
 
 But it is surely rash to pronounce that such separations were, 
 properly speaking, designed; or, on any point, to draw inferences 
 
 1 Acts xiii. 27.
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 41 
 
 as to the Divine WILL from conjectures of our own, based on 
 the events that actually take place. For, in a certain sense, it 
 may be said that whatever happens must be according to the 
 Will of the Most High, since He does not interpose to prevent 
 it. But ( in our doings' (as is expressed in the lyth Article) 
 ' that Will of God is to be followed which is expressly declared 
 in Scripture/ 
 
 ' It must needs be/ says our Lord, ' that offences come ; but 
 woe unto that man by whom the offence cometh/ And Paul, 
 who tells his converts, that ( there must be heresies, that they 
 who are approved may be made manifest/ bids them, neverthe- 
 less, ' reject a man that is an heretic/ 
 
 As for the analogy of a prince or master who, the reviewer 
 says, always endeavours to give unmistakeable directions, Bishop 
 Butler has touched it very well when he says, 1 ' The reason 
 why a prince would give his directions in this plain manner is, 
 that he absolutely desires such an external action should be 
 done, without concerning himself with the motive or principle 
 on which it is done; i.e., he regards only the external event, 
 or the thing's being done, and not at all the doing it, or the 
 action. Whereas, the whole of morality and religion consisting 
 merely in action itself, there is no sort of parallel between the 
 cases. But if the prince be supposed to regard only the action, 
 i.e., only to desire to exercise, or in any way prove, the 
 understanding or loyalty of a servant, he would not always give 
 his orders in such a plain manner/ 
 
 But as for the question why a state of trial does exist why 
 earth is not heaven why any evil is permitted in the universe, 
 Bishop Butler had too much sense and modesty to attempt 
 any solution. 
 
 (III.) I fully concur with the reviewer in disapproving of the 
 union of vast masses of mankind under one government, eccle- 
 siastical or civil. And in some instances, where men were so 
 wedded to the erroneous view above alluded to, of the character 
 of Christian ( unity/ as to think that the combining of all 
 Christians in a single community on earth is a thing to be 
 aimed at, their doctrinal disagreements, which prevented this, 
 may have incidentally proved a benefit. But it is a mistake 
 
 Analogy, part ii. chap. vi. p. 247, Fitzgerald's edition.
 
 42 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 to suppose that there is no alternative but such a combination, 
 or else, hostile separation and opposition. Considering, indeed, 
 how many religious Bodies of Dissenters there are among us, 
 and that all Protestants are dissenters from the Church of 
 Rome revolted subjects who have renounced their subjection, 
 it is not, perhaps, to be wondered that the two ideas, of 
 independent distinctness, and of disagreement, which have no 
 necessary connexion, should have become associated in men's 
 minds. 1 But the Apostles, who certainly did not encourage 
 diversities of doctrine, founded numerous distinct Churches, 
 several even in the same province; which, though not at all at 
 variance, were not placed under any common authority on earth, 
 except that of the individual Apostle who founded them. And 
 in the earliest ages the Christian Churches were reckoned by 
 hundreds. It was in later times, and very gradually, that the 
 claims of Rome, and of Constantinople, to universal supremacy, 
 were admitted. 
 
 And in the present day, the American Episcopalian Church 
 is kept apart from our own, not by difference of doctrine, but 
 simply by being American. The Churches of Sweden and of 
 Denmark, again, and of some other Protestant States, are not, 
 I believe, at all at variance with each other, though not subject 
 to any common government. 
 
 (IV.) I am as fully convinced as the reviewer that no unin- 
 spired man can justly pretend to infallible certainty as to what 
 opinions are erroneous. But (i) no argument drawn from 
 man's fallibility can at all avail to repress persecution, except 
 with those who acknowledge fallibility. And it is well known 
 that Churches comprising a majority of the Christian world do 
 lay claim to an unerring certainty in matters of doctrine. So 
 that, with them, the argument which it is alleged all must 
 admit, would have no force at all. To tell a Roman Catholic 
 to admit that his Church can have no certainty as to what is or 
 is not an error, would be simply telling him to cease to be a 
 Roman Catholic. 
 
 If, however, all that is meant is that, however certain we 
 may be, ourselves, we cannot always demonstrate to others to 
 the very persons in error that their opinions are wrong, the 
 
 1 I have treated fully of this point in the Lessons on Religious Worship, 
 lesson x.
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 43 
 
 persecutor would answer that since he cannot convince them, 
 he must be content to make sure, in some way, whether by 
 their death, banishment, incarceration, or otherwise, that they 
 shall be effectually prevented from propagating their errors. 
 
 But (2) even if a ruler admits himself to be not completely 
 infallible, still the above argument will not preclude persecu- 
 tion. As I observed in a former work, 1 e In protesting against 
 the claim of the civil magistrate to prescribe to his subjects 
 what shall be their religious faith, I have confined myself to 
 the consideration that such a decision is beyond the province of 
 a secular ruler ; instead of dilating, as some writers have done, 
 on the impossibility of having any ruler whose judgment shall 
 be infallible. That infallibility cannot be justly claimed by 
 uninspired Man, is indeed very true, but nothing to the present 
 purpose. A man may claim as the Apostles did infallibility 
 in matters of faith, without thinking it allowable to enforce 
 conformity by secular coercion ; and, again, on the other hand, 
 he may think it right to employ that coercion, without thinking 
 himself infallible. In fact, all legislators do this in respect of 
 temporal concerns ; such as confessedly come within the pro- 
 vince of human legislation. Much as we have heard of religious 
 infallibility, no one, I conceive, ever pretended to universal 
 legislative infallibility. And yet every legislature enforces 
 obedience, under penalties, to the laws it enacts in civil and 
 criminal transactions; not, on the ground of their supposing 
 themselves exempt from error of judgment ; but because they 
 are bound to legislate though conscious of being fallible 
 according to the best of their judgment ; and to enforce obe- 
 dience to each law till they shall see cause to repeal it. What 
 should hinder them, if religion be one of the things coming 
 within their province, from enforcing (on the same principle) 
 conformity to their enactments respecting that ? A lawgiver 
 sees the expediency of a uniform rule, with regard, suppose, to 
 weights and measures, or to the descent of property; he frames, 
 without any pretensions to infallibility, the best rule he can 
 think of; or, perhaps, merely a rule which he thinks AS GOOD 
 as any other ; and enforces uniform compliance with it : this 
 being a matter confessedly within his province. Now if reli- 
 
 1 Essays on the Dangers to Christian Faith, essay v. II. Third edition.
 
 44 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 gion be so too, he may feel himself called on to enforce 
 uniformity in that also ; not believing himself infallible either 
 in matters of faith or in matters of expediency; but holding 
 himself bound, in each case alike, to frame such enactments as 
 are in his judgment advisable, and to enforce compliance with 
 them ; as King James in his prefatory proclamation respecting 
 the Thirty-nine Articles, announces his determination to allow 
 of ' no departure from them whatever/ I do not conceive 
 that he thought himself gifted with infallibility; but that he 
 saw an advantage in religious uniformity, and therefore held 
 himself authorized and bound to enforce it by the power of the 
 secular magistrate. The whole question therefore turns, not 
 on any claim to infallibility, but on the ^extent of the province 
 of the civil magistrate, and of the applicability of legal coercion, 
 or of exclusion from civil rights/ [pp. 157, 8.] 
 
 And it may be added that (as I have elsewhere remarked) 1 
 a ruler who believed in no religion, as probably was the case 
 with many of the ancient heathen lawgivers, might yet, like 
 them, think the established religion a useful thing to keep the 
 vulgar in awe, and might, on grounds of expediency, enforce 
 conformity. 
 
 'It is certain, that heresies and schisms are, of all others, the 
 
 greatest scandals.' 
 ' Nothing doth so much keep men out of the Church, and drive 
 
 men out of the Church, as breach of unity.' 
 
 If proof of the truth of Bacon's remark were needed, it might 
 be found in the fact, that among the more immediate causes of 
 the stationary, or even receding, condition of the Reformation, 
 for nearly three centuries, a condition so strangely at variance 
 with the anticipations excited in both friends and foes by its 
 first rapid advance, the one which has been most frequently 
 remarked upon is the contentions among Protestants; who, soon 
 after the first outbreak of the revolt from Rome, began to 
 expend the chief part of their energies in contests with each 
 other ; and often showed more zeal, and even fiercer hostility, 
 against rival-Protestants, than against the systems and the 
 principles which they agreed in condemning. The adherents of 
 
 See Essay i. On the Kingdom of Christ.
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 45 
 
 the Church of Rome, on the contrary, are ready to waive all 
 internal differences, and unite actively, as against a common 
 enemy, in opposing the Greek Church, and all denominations 
 of Protestants. They are like a disciplined army under a single 
 supreme leader; in which, whatever jealousies and dissensions 
 may exist among the individual officers and soldiers, every one 
 is at his post whenever the trumpet gives the call to arms, and 
 the whole act as one man against the hostile army. Protestants, 
 on the contrary, labour under the disadvantages which are well 
 known in military history, of an allied army a host of confe- 
 derates, who are often found to forget the common cause, and 
 desert, or even oppose one another. 
 
 Hence, it is continually urged against the Reformed Churches, 
 ' See what comes of allowing private judgment in religion. 
 Protestants, who profess to sacrifice everything to truth, do not, 
 after all, attain it, for if they did, they would all (as has been 
 just observed) be agreed. The exercise of their private judg- 
 ment does but expose them to the disadvantages of divisions, 
 without, after all, securing to them an infallible certainty of 
 attaining truth ; while those who submit to the decisions of one 
 supreme central authority, have at least the advantage of being 
 united against every common adversary/ 
 
 And this advantage certainly does exist, and ought not to be 
 denied, or kept out of sight. The principle is indeed sound, 
 of making truth, as embraced on sincere conviction, the first 
 object, and unity a secondary one ; and if man were a less im- 
 perfect being than he is, all who adhered to that principle 
 would, as has been said, be agreed and united ; and truth and 
 rectitude would have their natural advantages over their oppo- 
 sites. But as it is, what we generally find, is truth mixed with 
 human error, and genuine religion tainted with an alloy of 
 human weaknesses and prejudices. And this it is that gives a 
 certain degree of advantage to any system whether in itself 
 true or false which makes union, and submission to a supreme 
 authority on earth, the first point. 
 
 If you exhort men to seek truth, and to embrace what, on 
 deliberate examination, they are convinced is truth, they may 
 follow this advice, and yet considering what Man is may be 
 expected to arrive at different conclusions. But if you exhort 
 them to agree, and with that view, to make a compromise,
 
 46 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 each consenting (like the Roman Triumvirs of old, who sacrificed 
 to each other's enmity their respective friends) to proscribe some 
 of their own convictions, then, if they follow this advice, the 
 end sought will be accomplished. 
 
 But surely the advantages, great as they are, of union, are 
 too dearly purchased at such a price; since, besides the possi- 
 bility that men may be united in what is erroneous and wrong 
 in itself, there is still this additional evil and this should be 
 remembered above all, that whatever absolute truth there may 
 be in what is assented to on such a principle, it is not truth to 
 those who assent to it not on conviction, but for union's sake. 
 And what is in itself right to be done, is wrong to him who 
 does it without the approbation of his own judgment, at the 
 bidding of others, and with a view to their co-operation. On 
 the other hand, the unity whether among all Christians, or 
 any portion of them which is the result of their all holding 
 the same truth, this unity is not the less perfect from its being 
 incidental, and not the primary object aimed at, and to which 
 all else was to be sacrificed. But those who have only inci- 
 dentally adhered to what is in itself perfectly right, may be them- 
 selves wrong ; even to a greater degree than those who may have 
 fallen into error on some points, but who are on the whole 
 sincere votaries of truth. 
 
 Another disadvantage that is to be weighed against the 
 advantages of an unity based on implicit submission to a certain 
 supreme authority, is that the adherents of such a system are 
 deprived of the character of witnesses. 
 
 When a man professes, and we are unable to disprove the 
 sincerity of the profession, that he has been, on examination, 
 convinced of the truth of a certain doctrine, he is a witness to 
 the force of the reasons which have convinced him. But those 
 who take the contrary course give, in reality, no testimony at 
 all, except to the fact that they have received so and so from 
 their guide. They are like copies of some printed document 
 (whether many or few, makes no difference), struck off from the 
 same types, and which consequently can have no more weight as 
 evidence, than one. So also, the shops supply us with abun- 
 dance of busts and prints of some eminent man, ' all striking 
 likenesses of each other.' 
 
 If there were but a hundred persons in all the world who
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 47 
 
 professed to have fully convinced themselves, independently of 
 each other's authority, of the truth of a certain conclusion, and 
 these were men of no more than ordinary ability, their declara- 
 tion would have incalculably more weight than that of a hun- 
 dred millions, even though they were the most sagacious and 
 learned men that ever existed, maintaining the opposite con- 
 clusion, but having previously resolved to forego all exercise 
 of their own judgment, and to receive implicitly what is dictated 
 to them. For, the testimony (to use a simple and obvious 
 illustration) of even a small number of eye-witnesses of any 
 transaction, even though possessing no extraordinary powers of 
 vision, would outweigh that of countless millions who should 
 have resolved to close their eyes, and to receive and retail the 
 report they heard from a single individual. 
 
 So important in giving weight to testimony, is the absence of 
 all concert, or suspicion of concert, that probably one of the 
 causes which induced the Apostles, under the guidance of the 
 Holy Spirit, to found several distinct and independent Churches, 
 instead of a single community under one government on earth, 
 was, the increased assurance thus afforded of the doctrines and 
 of the Canon of Scripture received by all. For, it was not as 
 some have imagined any General Council or Synod of the 
 Universal Church, that determined what books and what doc- 
 trines should be received. No one of the early General Coun- 
 cils did more than declare what had been already received by 
 the spontaneous decision of each of many distinct Churches, 
 which had thus borne, long before, their independent testimony 
 to the books and the doctrines of Christ's inspired servants. 
 
 So well is all this understood by crafty controversialists, 
 that they usually endeavour to represent all who chance to 
 agree in maintaining what they would oppose, as belonging to 
 some School, Party, or Association of some kind, and in some 
 way combined, and acting in concert ; and this when there is no 
 proof, or shadow of proof, of any such combination, except co- 
 incidence of opinion. They are represented (to serve a purpose) 
 as disciples of such and such a leader. But ' there are three 
 senses in which men are sometimes called ' disciples ' of any 
 other person ; (i) incorrectly, from their simply maintaining 
 something that he maintains, without any profession or proof 
 of its being derived from him. Thus, Augustine was a predesti-
 
 48 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 narian, and so was Mahomet \ yet no one supposes that the one 
 derived his belief from the other. It is very common, however, 
 to say of another, that he is an Arian, Athanasian, Socinian, &c., 
 which tends to mislead, unless it is admitted, or can be proved, 
 that he learnt his opinions from this or that master. (2.) When 
 certain persons avow that they have adopted the views of 
 another, not however on his authority, bu^t from holding them 
 to be agreeable to reason or to Scripture; as the Platonic, and 
 most other philosophical sects : the Lutherans, Zuinglians, &c. 
 (3-) When, like the disciples of Jesus, and, as it is said, of the 
 Pythagoreans, and the adherents of certain Churches, they 
 profess to receive their system on the authority of their master 
 or Church ; to acquiesce in an ' ipse-dixit ;' or, to receive all 
 that the Church receives. These three senses should be carefully 
 kept distinct/ 1 
 
 One of the earliest of the assailants of Bishop Hampclen's 
 Bampton Lectures (a writer who afterwards seceded openly to 
 Borne) distinctly asserted that Dr. H., Dr. Arnold, Dr. Hinds, 
 Mr. Blanco White, and Archbishop Whately were ' united in the 
 closest bonds of private friendship, as well as of agreement in doc- 
 trine/ Whether this was a known falsehood, or a mere random as- 
 sertion, thrown outwithout any knowledge at all about the matter, 
 one cannot decide. But the/ac/ is, that Dr. Arnold never had any 
 close intimacy with Dr. Hampden ; and with Dr. Hinds, and Mr. 
 B. White, he had not so much as a visiting acquaintance ! 2 
 
 Now though the alleged ' private friendship' had it existed 
 would have been nothing in itself blameable, one may easily 
 see the purpose of the fabrication. That purpose evidently was, 
 to impair in some degree the independent testimony of the 
 persons mentioned, as to the points wherein they coincided, by 
 insinuating that they had conspired together to found some 
 kind of school or party ; and that, in furtherance of such a 
 plan, they might possibly have been biassed in their several 
 judgments, or have made something of a compromise. 
 
 How very probable such a result is, was strikingly shown, 
 shortly after, by the formation of the ' Tract-party/ Of the 
 persons who (deliberately and avowedly) combined for the pur- 
 
 Eden's Theol. Diet., Art. ' Disciples.' 
 2 See Letter on the Church and the Universities.
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 49 
 
 pose of advocating certain principles, some as they themselves 
 subsequently declared disapproved of much that was put forth 
 in several of the Tracts for the Times, yet thought it best 
 to suppress their disapprobation, and to continue to favour the 
 publication, till the advocacy of unsound views had reached an 
 alarming height. 
 
 The ingenuity displayed in many of those Tracts has given 
 currency to doctrines in themselves open to easy refutation ; 
 and the high character for learning of some of the writers, 
 doubtless contributed to their success ; but their being known 
 to have combined together (' conspired,' is the term used by one 
 of themselves) for the propagation of certain doctrines agreed 
 upon, took off just so much of the weight of their authority. 
 
 And when ministers of the Church of England, and Mora- 
 vians, and Lutherans, Presbyterians, Methodists, and Congrega- 
 tionalists, &c., are, all and each, without any concert, teaching 
 to their respective congregations certain fundamental Chris- 
 tian doctrines, this their concurrence furnishes a strong 
 presumption in favour of those doctrines. Of these religious 
 communities, some coincide on all fundamental points, while 
 others, unhappily, are, on many important points, opposed to 
 each other : but as long as they are independent of each other, 
 their spontaneous coincidence, where they do coincide, gives 
 great weight to their testimony. But if they formally combine 
 together (in an Association, Alliance, Party, or whatever else it 
 may be called), and pledge themselves to each other to propagate 
 these doctrines, the presumption is proportionably weakened. 1 
 
 It is very strange, that some persons, not deficient, generally, 
 in good sense, should fail to perceive the consequences of thus 
 setting up what is in reality, though not in name, a new Church. 
 Besides that, under a specious appearance of promoting union 
 among Christians, it tends to foster e^s-union and dissension in 
 each Church, between those who do, and who do not, enrol 
 themselves as members besides this, the force of the spon- 
 taneous and independent testimony of members of distinct 
 Churches, is, in great measure, destroyed, by the unwise means 
 used for strengthening it. 
 
 It is important that we should be fully aware, not only of 
 
 1 See Thoughts on the proposed Evangelical AlUanee. 
 E
 
 50 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 the advantages which undoubtedly are obtained by this kind of 
 union, but also of its disadvantages; for neither belong exclu- 
 sively to any particular Church, or other community, but to 
 every kind of Party, Association, Alliance, or by whatever other 
 name it may be called, in which there is an express or under- 
 stood obligation on the members to give up, or to suppress, 
 their own convictions, and submit to the decisions of the leader 
 or leaders under whom they are to act. 
 
 This principle of sacrificing truth to unity, creeps in gradually. 
 The sacrifice first demanded, in such cases, is, in general, not a 
 great one. Men are led on, step by step, from silence as to 
 some mistake, to connivance at fallacies, and thence to suppres- 
 sion, and then to misrepresentation, of truth ; and ultimately to 
 the support of known falsehood. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that I do not advocate the 
 opposite extreme, the too common practice of exaggerating 
 differences, or setting down all who do not completely concur 
 in all our views as ' infidels/ as ' altogether heterodox/ &c. The 
 right maxim is one that we may borrow from Shakespere : 
 * Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice/ But it is 
 worth remarking, that what may be called the two opposite 
 extremes, in this matter, are generally found together. For it is 
 the tendency of party spirit to pardon anything in those who 
 heartily support the party, and nothing in those who do not. 
 
 ' Men ought to take heed of rending God's Church by two kinds 
 of controversies.' 
 
 Controversy, though always an evil in itself, is sometimes a 
 necessary evil. To give up anything worth contending about, 
 in order to prevent hurtful contentions, is, for the sake of extir- 
 pating noxious weeds, to condemn the field to perpetual sterility. 
 Yet, if the principle that it is an evil only to be incurred when 
 necessary for the sake of some important good, were acted upon, 
 the two classes of controversies mentioned by Bacon would 
 certainly be excluded. The first, controversy on subjects too 
 deep arid mysterious, is indeed calculated to gender strife. For, 
 in a case where correct knowledge is impossible to any, and 
 where all are, in fact, in the wrong, there is but little likeli- 
 hood of agreement; like men who should rashly venture to 
 explore a strange land in utter darkness, they will be scattered
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 51 
 
 into a thousand devious paths. The second class of subjects 
 that would be excluded by this principle, are those which relate 
 to matters too minute and trifling. For it should be remem- 
 bered that not only does every question that can be raised lead 
 to differences of opinion, disputes, and parties, but also that the 
 violence of the dispute, and the zeal and bigoted spirit of the 
 party, are not at all proportioned to the importance of the 
 matter at issue. The smallest spark, if thrown among very 
 combustible substances, may raise a formidable conflagration. 
 Witness the long and acrimonious disputes which distracted the 
 Church concerning the proper time for the observance of Easter, 
 and concerning the use of leavened or unleavened bread at the 
 Lord's Supper. We of the present day, viewing these contro- 
 versies from a distance, with the eye of sober reason, and 
 perceiving of how little consequence the points of dispute are 
 in themselves, provided they be so fixed as to produce a decent 
 uniformity, at least among the members of each Church, can 
 hardly bring ourselves to believe that the most important 
 doctrines of the Gospel were never made the subject of more 
 eager contentions than such trifles as these ; and that for these 
 the peace and unity of the Church were violated, and Christian 
 charity too often utterly destroyed. But we should not forget 
 that human nature is still the same as it ever was ; and that 
 though the controversies of one age may often appear ridiculous 
 in another, the disposition to contend about trifles may remain 
 unchanged. 1 
 
 Not only, however, should we avoid the risk of causing 
 needless strife by the discussion of such questions as are in 
 themselves trifling, but those also are to be regarded as to us 
 insignificant, which, however curious, sublime, and interesting, 
 can lead to no practical result, and have no tendency to make 
 us better Christians, but are merely matters of speculative 
 curiosity. Paul is frequent and earnest in his exhortations to 
 his converts to confine themselves to such studies as tend to 
 the edification of the Church, the increase of the fruits of the 
 Spirit, the conversion of infidels, and the propagation of the 
 essential doctrines of the Gospel. And these doctrines are all 
 of a practical tendency. While all the systems framed by 
 
 1 See Lessons on Religious Worship. 
 E 3
 
 5$ Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 human superstition, enthusiasm, and imposture, whether Pagan, 
 Romish, or Mahometan, abound, as might be expected, in mytho- 
 logical fables and marvellous legends, it is one of the most 
 remarkable characteristics of the true religion, that it reveals 
 nothing clearly that is not practically important for us to know 
 with a view to our salvation. Our religion, as might no less be 
 expected of one which comes not from Man, but from God, 
 reveals to us, not the philosophy of the human mind in itself, 
 nor yet the philosophy of the divine Nature in itself, but (that 
 which is properly religion) the relation and connection of the 
 two Beings ; what God is to us, what He has done, and will 
 do for us, and what we are to be and to do, in regard to Him. 1 
 Bacon, doubtless, does not mean to preclude all thought or 
 mention of any subject connected with religion, whose practical 
 utility we are unable to point out. On the contrary, he else- 
 where urges us to pursue truth, without always requiring to 
 perceive its practical application. But all controversy, and 
 everything that is likely, under existing circumstances, to lead 
 to controversy, on such points, must be carefully avoided. 
 "When once a flame is kindled, we cannot tell how far it may 
 extend. And since, though we may be allowed, we cannot be 
 bound in duty to discuss speculative points of theology, the 
 blame of occasioning needless dissension must lie with those 
 who so discuss them as to incur a risk that hostile parties may 
 arise out of their speculations. 
 
 ' 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.' 
 
 So important are words in influencing our thoughts, and so 
 common is the error of overlooking their importance, that we 
 cannot give too much heed to this caution of Bacon as to our 
 use of language in religious discussion. The rules most im- 
 portant to be observed are, first, to be aware of the ambiguity 
 of words, and watchful against being misled by it; since the 
 same word not only may, but often must, be used to express 
 different meanings; and so common a source of dissension is 
 the mistake hence arising of the meaning of others, that the 
 
 Sec Lectures on a Future State, Lecture on the Millennium.
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 53 
 
 word misunderstanding is applied to disagreements in general : 
 secondly (since, on the other hand, the same meaning may be 
 expressed by different words), to guard against attaching too 
 great importance to the use of any particular term : and lastly, 
 to avoid, as much as possible, introducing or keeping up the 
 use of any peculiar set of words and phrases, and ' fixed terms/ 
 as Bacon calls them, as the badge of a party. 
 
 A neglect of this last rule, it is obvious, must greatly pro- 
 mote causeless divisions and all the evils of party-spirit. Any 
 system appears the more distinct from all others, when provided 
 with a distinct, regular, technical phraseology, like a corporate 
 Body, with its coat of arms and motto. By this means, over 
 and above all the real differences of opinion which exist, a fresh 
 cause of opposition and separation is introduced among those 
 who would perhaps be found, if their respective statements were 
 candidly explained, to have in their tenets no real ground of 
 disunion. 1 Nor will the consequences of such divisions be as 
 trifling as their causes ; for when parties are once firmly esta- 
 blished and arrayed against each other, their opposition will 
 usually increase ; and the differences between them, which were 
 originally little more than imaginary, may in time become 
 serious and important. Experience would seem to teach us 
 that the technical terms which were introduced professedly for 
 the purpose of putting down heresies as they arose, did but 
 serve rather to multiply heresies. This, at least, is certain, 
 that as scientific theories and technical phraseology gained 
 currency, party animosity raged the more violently. Those 
 who, having magnified into serious evils by injudicious opposi- 
 tion, heresies in themselves insignificant, appealed to the mag- 
 nitude of those evils to prove that their opposition was called 
 for : like unskilful physicians, who, when by violent remedies 
 they have aggravated a trifling disease into a dangerous one, 
 urge the violence of the symptoms which they themselves have 
 produced, in justification of their practice. They employed that 
 violence in the cause of what they believed to be divine truth, 
 which Jesus Himself and his Apostles expressly forbade in the 
 cause of what they knew to be divine truth. ' The servant of 
 the Lord/ says Paul, ' must not strive, but be gentle unto all 
 men, in meekness instructing them that oppose themselves, if 
 
 1 On this point I have treated fully in the Tract on the Sacraments.
 
 54 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii. 
 
 God, peradventure, will give them repentance to the acknow- 
 ledging of the truth/ 1 
 
 On the whole, there is nothing that more tends to deprave 
 the moral sense than Party, because it supplies that sympathy 
 for which Man has a natural craving. To any one unconnected 
 with Party, the temptations of personal interest or gratification 
 are in some degree checked by the disapprobation of those 
 around him. But a partisan finds himself surrounded by 
 persons most of whom, though perhaps not unscrupulous in 
 their private capacity, are prepared to keep him in countenance 
 in much that is unjustifiable, to overlook or excuse almost 
 anything in a zealous and efficient partisan, and even to applaud 
 what in another they would condemn, so it does but promote 
 some party-object. For, Party corrupts the conscience, by 
 making almost all virtues flow, as it were, in its own channel. 
 Zeal for truth becomes, gradually, zeal for the watchword the 
 shibboleth of the party; justice, mercy, benevolence, are all 
 limited to the members of that party, and are censured if ex- 
 tended to those of the opposite party, or (which is usually even 
 more detested) those of no party. Candour is made to consist 
 in putting the best construction on all that comes from one 
 side, and the worst on all that does not. Whatever is wrong, 
 in any member of the party, is either boldly denied, in the face 
 of all evidence, or vindicated, or passed over in silence ; and 
 whatever is, or can be brought to appear, wrong on the opposite 
 side, is readily credited, and brought forward, and exaggerated. 
 The principles of conduct originally the noblest, disinterested 
 self-devotion, courage, and active zeal, Party perverts to its 
 own purposes : veracity, submissive humility, charity in short, 
 every Christian virtue, it enlists in its cause, and confines 
 within its own limits ; and the conscience becomes gradually so 
 corrupted that it becomes a guide to evil instead of good. The 
 ' light that is in us becomes darkness/ 2 
 
 1 We may not take up Mahomet's sword, or like unto it ; that is, 
 to propagate religion by wars, or by sanguinary persecutions 
 to force consciences.' 
 
 Although Bacon thus protests against the ' forcing of men's 
 
 1 2 Tim. xi. 25. 
 2 See Annotations on Essay XXXIX.
 
 Essay iii.] . Annotations. 53 
 
 consciences/ yet I am not quite sure, whether he fully embraced 
 the principle that all secular coercion, small or great, in what 
 regards religious faith, is contrary to the spirit of Christianity ; 
 and that a man's religion, as long as he conducts himself as a 
 peaceable and good citizen, does not fall within the province of 
 the civil magistrate. Bacon speaks with just horror of ' san- 
 guinary persecutions.' Now, any laws that can be properly 
 called 'sanguinary' any undue severity should be deprecated 
 in all matters whatever ; as if, for example, the penalty of death 
 should be denounced for stealing a pin. But if religious truth 
 does properly fall within the province of the civil magistrate, ' 
 if it be the office of government to provide for the good of the 
 subjects, universally, including that of their souls, the rulers 
 can have no more right to tolerate heresy, than theft or murder. 
 They may plead that the propagation of false doctrine that is, 
 what is contrary to what they hold to be true, is the worst 
 kind of robbery, and is a murder of the soul. On that supposi- 
 tion, therefore, the degree of severity of the penalty denounced 
 against religious offences, whether it shall be death, or exile, or 
 fine, or imprisonment, or any other, becomes a mere political 
 question, just as in the case of the penalties for other crimes.' 1 
 But if, on the contrary, we are to understand and comply 
 
 1 The following is an extract from a Protestant book, published a few years 
 ago : 'The magistrate who restrains, coerces, or punishes one who is propagating 1 
 a true religion, opposes himself to God, and is a persecutor ; but the magistrate 
 who restrains, coerces, or punishes one who is propagating a false religion, obeys 
 the command of God, and is not a persecutor' 
 
 This is a doctrine which every persecutor in the world would fully admit. 
 
 On the other hand, take a passage from a Roman Catholic History of England ; 
 an educational book, which, it may be fairly said, is circulated in England at the 
 public expense, under what is called the ' Separate system ;' the system which 
 many are seeking to introduce into Ireland also. 
 
 ' At last the queen and her council had Cranmer and a great many Protestant 
 bishops put in prison, and they were burnt for heresy. This was very shocking ; 
 but it was much more difficult to know what to do then than it is now. Heresy 
 was punishable by death at that time by the common law of the land, as forgery 
 was some years since, and as murder is now. Those who disturbed the faith, and 
 taught evil doctrines which destroyed the souls of others, were looked upon as 
 malefactors, and as such they were given up to the law. We often hear it said that 
 the Catholic Church must be a cruel Church to sanction such cruel deeds ; but those 
 who say this are mistaken. The punishment was inflicted, like every other penalty 
 of the law, by the Civil Power, not by the Church. 
 
 ' And although burning people at the stake is very shocking, every clear-sighted 
 person must see that it is much more shocking to destroy the souls of men by heresy. 
 This was what the Bishops Gardiner and Bonner thought.'
 
 5 6 Of Unity in Religion, [Essay iii. 
 
 with, in the simple and obvious sense, our Lord's injunction to 
 'render to Csesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the 
 things that are God's ;' and his declaration that his ' kingdom 
 is not of this world ;' and if we are to believe his Apostles 
 sincere in renouncing, on behalf of themselves and their fol- 
 lowers, all design of propagating their faith by secular force, or 
 of monopolizing for Christians as such, or for any particular 
 denomination of Christians, secular power and political rights, 
 then, all penalties and privations, great or small, inflicted on 
 purely religious grounds, must be equally of the character of 
 persecution (though all are not equally severe persecution), and 
 all alike unchristian. Persecution, in short, is not wrong 
 because it is cruel, but it is cruel because it is wrong.' ' 
 
 The Emperor Charles the Fifth, who had a mechanical turn, 
 and amused himself, after his abdication, in making clocks, has 
 been said to have been convinced of the folly of his violent 
 attempts to bring all men to religious agreement, from finding 
 that he could never bring his clocks to keep exactly the same 
 time. But the opposite conclusion would be the more rational. 
 For, if you did succeed in making all your clocks agree, by the 
 internal motions of their works, you would have no need to 
 apply external force. But if you found that when left to 
 themselves they varied, and yet you were resolved that they 
 should exhibit an external agreement, your only resource would 
 be to fix on some one as the standard by which the rest should 
 be regulated ; and to move their hands from time to time 
 so as to make all agree. And even so, if you could induce all 
 men by force of argument to believe exactly as you do, there 
 would be no need of resorting to external coercion : but if you 
 could not bring them to this agreement and yet were resolved 
 to have external conformity, you would then resort to force to 
 make men suppress their real sentiments. 
 
 ' Though religious liberty,' I have heard it said, ' ought to be 
 enjoyed by all, we should remember that religious liberty does 
 not imply irreligious liberty.' This proposition is one which I 
 have known intelligent and well-principled men led to assent 
 to ; and which, I have no doubt, would, in many circles, be 
 received with hearty acquiescence and applause. Yet, according 
 
 1 See Essay ' On Persecution,' 3rd Series.
 
 Essay iii.] Annotations. 57 
 
 to the established usage of language, it is utterly untrue, and 
 self-contradictory. When we speak of a man's being ' at liberty* 
 to act in a certain way, we always understand that he is at 
 liberty to act differently ; that it depends on himself to do, or 
 not to do, so and so. It would be thought absurd to speak of 
 a Dean and Chapter being ' at liberty' to elect a certain indi- 
 vidual, but not at liberty to refuse him; or to say of a man 
 imprisoned, that he is at liberty to remain in jail, though not at 
 liberty to leave it. 1 And any one would say that the freedom 
 of Parliament was at an end, if they were authorized to pass any 
 Bill the Ministry might propose, but not, to reject it. 
 
 According to the usual and proper sense of the words there- 
 fore, it is plain that religious liberty does imply irreligious 
 liberty ; and liberty to do right, liberty to do wrong. 
 
 1 See Essay ' On the Kingdom of Christ,' note A,
 
 ESSAY IV. OF REVENGE. 
 
 "OEVENGE is a kind of wild justice, which the more Man's 
 -L\ nature runs to, the more ought law to weed it out ; for as 
 for the first wrong, it does 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/ l That which is past is gone and irrecoverable, and 
 wise men have enough to do with things present and to come ; 
 therefore they do but trifle with themselves, that labour in past 
 matters. There is no man doth a wrong for the wrong's sake, 
 but thereby to purchase himself profit, or pleasure, or honour, 
 or the like ; therefore why should I be angry with a man for 
 loving himself better than me? And if any man should do 
 wrong, merely out of ill-nature, why, yet it is but like the thorn 
 or brier, which prick and scratch, because they can do no other. 
 The most tolerable sort of revenge is for those wrongs which 
 there is no law to remedy : but then, let a man take heed the 
 revenge be such as there is no law to punish ; else a man's 
 enemy is still beforehand, 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 2 friends, as if those wrongs were un- 
 pardonable. ' You shall read/ saith he, ' that we are com- 
 manded to forgive our enemies, but you never read that we 
 are commanded to forgive our friends.' But yet the spirit of 
 Job 3 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 
 
 1 Prover bs xix. n. 2 Neglecting. Neglectful; negligent. 3 Job ii. 10.
 
 Essay iv.] Annotations. 59 
 
 and do well. Public revenges are for the most part fortunate; 
 as that for the death of Csesar ; for the death of Pertinax ; 
 for the death of Henry III. 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 unfortunate. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON EEVENGE. 
 
 PRO. CONTBA. 
 
 ' Vindicta privata, justitia agrestis. ' Qui injuriam fecit, principium malo 
 
 ' Private revenge is wild justice' dedit; qui reddidit, modum abstulit. 
 
 ' He who has committed an injury 
 
 ' Qui vim rependit, legem fantum has made a beginning of evil ; he who 
 violat, non hominem. returns it, has taken away all limit 
 
 ' He who returns violence for violence, from it' 
 offends against the law only not 
 against the individual.' ' Vindicta, quo magis naturalis, eo 
 
 magis coercenda. 
 
 ' Utilis metus ultionis privates ; nam ' The more natural revenge is to man, 
 
 leges minium saepe donniunt. the more it should be repressed.' 
 
 ' Private vengeance inspires a salu- 
 tary fear, as the laws too often slum- ' Qui facile injuriam reddit, is fortasse 
 ber.' 1 tempore, non voluntate posterior erat. 
 
 ' He who is ready in returning an 
 injury, has, perhaps, been anticipated 
 by his enemy only in time.' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' Some, when they take revenge, are desirous the party should 
 know whence it cometh.' 
 
 It is certainly, as Bacon remarks, ' more generous ' or less 
 tmgenerous to desire that the party receiving the punishment 
 should ( know whence it cometh.' Aristotle distinguishes opytj 
 (' Resentment ' or ' Anger ') from Miaog, ' Hatred/ (and 
 when active, ' Malice') by this. The one who hates, he says, 
 wishes the object of his hatred to suffer, or to be destroyed, no 
 matter by whom ; while Resentment craves that he should know 
 from whom, and for what, he suffers. And he instances Ulysses 
 in the Odyssey, who was not satisfied with the vengeance he had 
 
 1 See, in Guy Mannering, Pleydell's remark, that if you have not a regular 
 chimney for the smoke, it will find its way through the whole house.
 
 60 Of Revenge, [Essay iv. 
 
 taken, under a feigned name, on the Cyclops, till he had told 
 him who he really was. 
 
 So Shakespere makes Macduff, in his eager desire of ven- 
 geance on Macbeth, say, 
 
 ' If thou be slain, and with no sword of mine, 
 My wife's and children's ghosts will haunt me still.' 
 
 ' In taking revenge, a man is but even with his enemy ; but in 
 passing it over he is superior/ &c. 
 
 Bacon, in speaking of the duty, and of the difficulty, of for- 
 giving injuries, might have remarked that some of the things 
 hardest to forgive are not what any one would consider injuries 
 (i.e., wrongs) at all. 
 
 Many would reprobate the use, in such a case, of the word 
 forgive. And the word ought not to be insisted on; though 
 that most intelligent woman, Miss Elizabeth Smith, says (in her 
 commonplace-book, from which posthumous extracts were pub- 
 lished) that ' a woman has need of extraordinary gentleness and 
 modesty to be forgiven for possessing superior ability and learn- 
 ing/ She would probably have found this true even now, to a 
 certain degree ; though less than in her time. 
 
 But not to insist on a word, say, instead of * forgive/ that it 
 is hard to ' judge fairly of ' and to ' feel kindly towards/ 
 
 (i.) One who adheres to the views which were yours, and 
 which you have changed. This was, doubtless, one of the 
 Apostle Paul's trials. But in his case the miracle he had 
 experienced, and the powers conferred on himself, could leave 
 no doubt on his mind. But the trial is much harder when you 
 hear arguments used against you which you had yourself for- 
 merly employed, and which you cannot now refute ; and when 
 you rest on reasons which you had formerly shown to be futile, 
 and which do not quite satisfy you now ; and when you know 
 that you are suspected, and half-suspect yourself, of being in 
 some way biassed. Then it is that you especially need some one 
 to keep you in countenance ; and are tempted to be angry with 
 those who will not, however they may abstain from reproaching 
 you with apostasy. 
 
 Of course there is a trial on the opposite side also ; but it is 
 far less severe. For, a change implies error, first or last ; and 
 this is galling to one's self-esteem. The one who had adhered
 
 Essay iv.] Annotations. 61 
 
 to his system, sect, or opinion, may hug himself on his (so-called) 
 ' consistency ; ' and may congratulate himself inwardly, if not 
 openly, on the thought that at least he may be quite right all 
 through ; whereas the other must have been wrong somewhere. 
 ' I stand/ he may say to himself, ' where he was ; I think as 
 he thought, and do what he did ; he cannot at any rate tax me 
 with fickleness ; nor can he blame anything in me which he 
 was not himself guilty of.' All this is as soothing to the one 
 party, as the thought of it is irritating to the other. 
 
 (2.) One who has proved right in the advice and warning he 
 gave you, and which you rejected. 
 
 ' I bear you no ill-will, Lizzy ' (says Mr. Bennet, in Miss 
 Austen's Pride and Prejudice), 'for being justified in the warn- 
 ing you gave me. Considering how things have turned out, I 
 think this shows some magnanimity/ 
 
 (3.) One who has carried off some prize from you ; whether 
 the woman you were in love with, or some honour, or situation, 
 especially if he has attained with little exertion what you had 
 been striving hard for, without success. 
 
 This last is noticed by Aristotle (Rhetoric, book ii.) as one 
 great ground of envy ((pQovos). 
 
 (4.) One who has succeeded in some undertaking whose 
 failure you had predicted: such as the railroad over Chat Moss, 
 which most of the engineers pronounced impossible; or the 
 Duke of Bridgewater's aqueduct, which was derided as a castle 
 in the air. 
 
 Again, with some minds of a baser nature, there is a diffi- 
 culty, proverbially, in forgiving those whom one is conscious of 
 having injured : and, again, those (especially if equals or infe- 
 riors) who have done very great and important services, beyond 
 what can ever receive an adequate return. Rochefoucault even 
 says that ' to most men it is less dangerous to do hurt than to 
 do them too much good/ But then it was his system to look 
 on the dark side only of mankind. 
 
 Tacitus, also, who is not very unlike him in this respect, says 
 that ' benefits are acceptable as far as it appears they may be 
 repaid; but that when they far exceed this, hatred takes the 
 place of gratitude/ It is only, however, as has been said, the 
 basest natures to whom any of these last-mentioned trials can 
 occur, as trials.
 
 62 Of Revenge. [Essay iv. 
 
 In all these and some other such cases, there is evidently no 
 injury ; and some will, as has been just said, protest against the 
 use of the word 'forgive/ when there is no wrong to be 
 forgiven. 
 
 Then avoid the word, if you will ; only do not go on to ima- 
 gine that you have no need to keep down, with a strong effort, 
 just the same kind of feelings that you would have had if there 
 had been an injury. If you take for granted that no care is 
 needed to repress such feelings, inasmuch as they would be so 
 manifestly unreasonable, the probable result will be, that you 
 will not repress but indulge them. You will not, indeed, 
 acknowledge to yourself the real ground (as you do in the case 
 of an actual injury) of your resentful feeling ; but you will 
 deceive yourself by finding out some other ground, real or ima- 
 ginary. ' It is not that the man adheres to his original views, 
 but that he is an uncharitable bigot / f It is not that I grudge 
 him his success, but that he is too much puffed up with it :' 
 ' It is not that I myself was seeking the situation, but that he 
 is unfit for it ' &c. 
 
 He who cultivates, in the right way, the habit of forgiving 
 injuries, will acquire it. But if you content yourself with this, 
 and do not cultivate a habit of candour in such cases as those 
 above alluded to, you will be deficient in that ; for it does not 
 grow wild in the soil of the human heart. And the unreason- 
 ableness and injustice of the feelings which will grow wild there, 
 is a reason not why you should neglect to extirpate them, but 
 why you should be the more ashamed of not doing so. 
 
 It is worth mentioning, that your judgment of any one's 
 character who has done anything wrong, ought to be exactly 
 the same, whether the wrong was done to you or to any one 
 else. Any one by whom you have yourself been robbed or 
 assaulted, is neither more nor less a robber, or a ruffian, than 
 if he had so injured some other person, a stranger to you. This 
 is evident ; yet there is great need to remind people of it ; for, 
 as the very lowest minds of all regard with far the most disap- 
 probation any wrong from which they themselves suffer, so, 
 those a few steps, and only a few, above them, in their dread of 
 such manifest injustice, think they cannot bend the twig too 
 far the contrary way, and are for regarding (in theory, at least, 
 if not in practice) wrongs to oneself as no wrongs at all. Such
 
 Essay iv.] Annotations. 63 
 
 a person will reckon it a point of heroic generosity to let loose 
 on society a rogue who has cheated him, and to leave uncen- 
 sured and unexposed a liar by whom he has been belied ; and the 
 like in other cases. And if you refuse favour and countenance 
 to those unworthy of it, whose misconduct has at all affected you, 
 he will at once attribute this to personal vindictive feelings ; as 
 if there could be no such thing as esteem and disesteem. One 
 may even see tales, composed by persons not wanting in intelli- 
 gence, and admired by many of what are called the educated 
 classes, in which the virtue held up for admiration and imitation 
 consists in selecting as a bosom friend, and a guide, and a model 
 of excellence, one who had been guilty of manifest and gross 
 injustice ; because the party had suffered personally from that 
 injustice. 
 
 It is thus that ' fools mistake reverse of wrong for right/ 
 The charity of some persons consists in proceeding on the sup- 
 position that to believe in the existence of an injury is to 
 cherish implacable resentment; and that it is impossible to 
 forgive, except when there is nothing to be forgiven. It is 
 obvious that these notions render nugatory the Gospel-precepts. 
 Why should we be called upon to render good for evil, if we 
 are bound always to explain away that evil, and call it good ? 
 Where there is manifestly just ground for complaint, we should 
 accustom ourselves to say, ' That man owes me a hundred 
 pence P thus at once estimating the debt at its just amount, 
 and recalling to our mind the parable of him who rigorously 
 enforced his own claims, when he had been forgiven ten 
 thousand talents. 
 
 There is a whole class of what may be called secondary 
 vulgar errors, errors produced by a kind of re- action from those 
 of people who are the very lowest of all, in point of intellect, or 
 of moral sentiment, errors which those fall into who are a few, 
 and but a very few, steps higher. 
 
 Any one who ventures a remark on the above error, will be 
 not unlikely to hear as a reply, ' Oh, but most men are far more 
 disposed to judge too severely than too favourably of one who 
 has injured themselves or their friends/ And this is true ; but 
 it is nothing to the purpose, unless we lay down as a principle, 
 that when one fault is more prevalent than another, the latter 
 need not be shunned at all. ' Of two evils, chuse the less,' is a
 
 64 Of Revenge. [Essay iv. 
 
 just maxim, then, and then only, when there is no other alter- 
 native, when we must take the one or the other : but it is mere 
 folly to incur either, when it is in our power to avoid both. 
 Those who speak of ' a fault on the right side/ should be 
 reminded that though a greater error is worse than a less, there 
 is no right side in error. And in the present case, it is plain 
 our aim should be to judge of each man's conduct fairly and 
 impartially, and on the same principles, whether we ourselves, 
 or a stranger, be the party concerned. 
 
 It may be added, that though the error of unduly glossing 
 over misconduct when the injury has been done to oneself, is 
 far less common than the opposite, among the mass of mankind, 
 who have but little thought of justice and generosity, it is the 
 error to which those are more liable who belong to a superior 
 class, those of a less coarse and vulgar mind ; and who, if they 
 need admonition less, are more likely to profit by it, because they 
 are striving to act on a right principle. The Patriarch Joseph, 
 for instance, whose generous forgiveness of his brethren is 
 justly admired, went into a faulty extreme when he told them 
 (Gen. xlv. 5) ' not to be angry with themselves/ inasmuch as 
 God had overruled for good the crime they had committed. 
 If they were thence induced to feel no sorrow and shame, he 
 had not done them any real benefit. 
 
 And a person of the disposition alluded to, will be liable to 
 analogous errors in other matters also. For instance, he will 
 perhaps show too little deference, for fear of showing too much 
 for the judgment of those he highly esteems ; and will do 
 injustice to a friend, in some cause he has to decide, through 
 over-dread of partiality. And perhaps he will underrate the 
 evidence for a religion he wishes to believe, from dread of an 
 undue bias in its favour. 1 
 
 An actual case has been known of a person most of whose 
 relatives were accustomed to speak of him much less favour- 
 ably than they really thought ; not from want of good-will, but 
 from dread of being thought partial. And the impression thus 
 produced was such as might have been expected. It was sup- 
 posed very naturally that they were giving the most favour- 
 able picture they could, when the contrary was the fact. 
 
 1 See Elements of Logic, app. i., article, ' Indlfferei.ee,'
 
 Essay iv.] Annotations. 65 
 
 What ought to have been taken at a premium, was taken at a 
 discount, and vice versa: so that they damaged unfairly the 
 reputation of one to whom they wished well. 
 
 It may be thought superfluous to warn any one against an 
 excess of self-distrust. But in truth, there is the more danger 
 of this, from the very circumstance that men are not usually 
 warned against it, and fancy themselves quite safe from it. 
 We should remember, besides all other distrust, to distrust 
 our own self-distrust. 
 
 ' The most tolerable sort of revenge is for those wrongs which 
 there is no law to remedy.' 
 
 This is the ground taken by those who advocate, or palliate, 
 the practice of duelling. The arguments for and against this 
 view, are given in a little work entitled An Expedition to the 
 Interior of New Holland. 
 
 ' On the one side it was contended that the appeal to 
 single combat does not take place in cases where the law of the 
 land provides adequate redress, but in those only where it either 
 cannot or will not afford any, or any but such as would be a 
 mere mockery to the feelings of the sufferer. A man, they 
 urge, does not challenge any one for robbing him of his purse, 
 or for firing his barn, but for injuries of quite a different 
 description, far more grievous to one moving in a certain circle 
 of society, but which the law either refuses to take cognizance 
 of at all, or for which it provides such redress as would 
 aggravate the evil by rendering the sufferer ridiculous. Now a 
 man resigns to the community his natural right of personal 
 self-defence, on the implied condition that the community shall 
 protect him ; and in cases, therefore, where it either cannot, or 
 will not, fulfil this condition, his original natural right remains 
 unimpaired. Thus, when a man is suddenly assaulted by a 
 robber, he is free to defend his person and property as well as 
 he can ; and on the same principle, when the injury is of such 
 a character as the law will not, or cannot, defend him from, he 
 is left to guard his own honour with his own hand. 
 
 ' As to the evils resulting from duels, they observed that it is 
 most unfair not to take into account though to calculate 
 would be impossible the immense amount of evils prevented,
 
 66 Of Revenge. [Essay iv. 
 
 and which there is reason to suppose would take place, but for 
 the apprehension of a duel. The insolence, the falsehood, the 
 slander, the base and the overbearing conduct, which are daily 
 kept in check in many thousands of persons by the recollection 
 that there is such a thing as being 'called out* for such 
 behaviour, is what no one can compute with any approach to 
 accuracy; these being preventive and negative effects, and 
 therefore incapable of being calculated, and liable to be under- 
 rated. 
 
 ' On the other hand, it was maintained that the practice 
 tended to defeat the very end proposed, and to lower (instead 
 of raising, as was pretended) the tone of manners in the society. 
 ' If/ they said, ' there were no such custom, then, any one, 
 whether man or woman, who transgressed the rules which 
 public opinion had sanctioned in the circle of society in which 
 he or she moved, would at once be excluded from that circle. 
 And the apprehension of this exclusion, of thus losing caste, 
 and being sent to Coventry, which is the ultimate penalty that 
 such a society can inflict for a breach of its rules, would be the 
 best preventive of any violation of them, the best preserva- 
 tive of the tone of the society, that it is possible to attain. If, 
 under such a system, any one insulted another, he would be 
 regarded as an ill-mannered brute, and excluded from good 
 company : a woman who displayed levity of conduct would be 
 at once excluded from reputable society : any one, man or 
 woman, who should bring rash imputations against a neigh- 
 bour, would be shunned as a slanderer : and so of the rest. 
 But under the system of duelling, society offers an alternative ; 
 the only effect of which, as far as it operates, is unmixed evil. 
 Instead of saying, absolutely, you must abstain from brutal in- 
 solence of demeanour, on pain of being excluded from our 
 circle, it says, you must either abstain from insolence, or be 
 ready to expose your life; instead of requiring a woman to 
 abstain from levity of conduct, and defamatory language, on 
 pain of forfeiting the countenance of respectable people, it 
 proposes the alternative of either observing those rules, or the 
 being prepared to encounter the ordeal. 1 And the result is, that 
 those who possess personal intrepidity will often be enabled to 
 
 1 This ordeal is described in the book alluded to.
 
 Essay iv.] Annotations. 67 
 
 transgress with impunity those rules of good society, which the 
 duelling system professes to enforce. Nay more : the system 
 tends to invest with a certain degree of dignity, arising from 
 our admiration of personal courage, such conduct as would 
 otherwise excite only unmitigated abhorrence and contempt. 
 An insolent man, for instance, if by his insolence he braved no 
 danger but that of expulsion from good company, would be 
 simply despised : but since he also (under the other system) 
 braves the danger of death, he obtains some degree of honour 
 for his intrepidity. And though some may be deterred from 
 such conduct by the fear of a challenge, others, on the con- 
 trary, may be encouraged to it, by a desire of displaying valour ; 
 especially if they have reason to think, from what they know of 
 the other party, that a challenge will not ensue, and that they 
 shall enjoy their triumph unmolested. 
 
 ' ' Moreover, the magnitude of the injuries which one person 
 actually can do to another is infinitely enhanced by the system 
 of duels, because every affront offered is thus made to carry 
 with it an imputation on one's personal courage, which can 
 only be wiped out by the exposure of life. If, for instance, I 
 am a man of uniform and scrupulous veracity, and some ill- 
 mannered ruffian gives me the lie, then, supposing duels un- 
 known, the attack recoils entirely on the assailant. He is in- 
 capable of proving his charge my life refutes it, and the only 
 result is that he, not I, is set down as a liar, for having falsely 
 called me a liar. But under the other system, I must go out 
 and expose my life, or else I am disgraced disgraced, not as a 
 liar (for that imputation, perhaps, is disbelieved after all), but 
 as a coward, for not daring to risk my life in defence of my 
 honour. And thus a person, who otherwise might have been 
 incapable of doing me any serious hurt at all, has it in his 
 power to propose to me at his pleasure the alternative of hazard 
 to my life and violence to my conscience, or ignominy. A 
 venom is thus added to the sting of the most contemptible 
 insect. 
 
 ' ' So much,' said they, ' for the protection thus provided for 
 us against injuries the most painful to the feelings ! Great 
 part of the disgrace attaching to the authors of such injuries is 
 removed; the injuries are probably rather increased than 
 diminished in frequency ; and in the pain they inflict, they are 
 
 F a
 
 68 Of Revenge. [Essay iv. 
 
 undoubtedly aggravated tenfold/ With regard to the supposed 
 necessity for a person's thus vindicating his own honour in 
 certain cases, on the ground that the parties have no common 
 authority to appeal to, this they flatly denied. The public 
 opinion of the society they belong to, is that common authority. 
 And that it is so, and is competent to decide effectually, is 
 proved, they urged, by the very existence of duelling ; for the 
 duel itself is enforced by nothing else but public opinion. I 
 am obliged, it is said, to challenge a man who has affronted 
 me, because there is no authority to appeal to that will compel 
 him to redress the injury. But what, then, compels him to 
 accept the challenge ? Nothing, but the knowledge that if he 
 refused it, society would reject him as disgraced. Then, why 
 should not society at once pronounce on him this sentence of 
 disgrace for the affront itself, unless he makes a satisfactory 
 submission ? If he defies public opinion, and does not care for 
 disgrace, he need not accept the challenge : if he does care for 
 public opinion, then let the disgrace attach at once to the 
 offering of the affront, instead of to the refusal of the chal- 
 lenge? It is manifest that those who have the power to 
 propose the alternative, of either suffering disgrace or fighting, 
 must have the power to discard the latter part of the alterna- 
 tive. Let society, therefore, but do its duty, and it is plain 
 that it may, by a proper exertion of the power which it has, 
 and which it actually exercises even now, restrain, and restrain 
 much more effectually, without duelling, the very evils which 
 duelling professes to remedy.' '
 
 ESSAY V. OF ADVERSITY. 
 
 IT was a high speech of Seneca (after the manner of the 
 Stoics), that the ' good things which belong to prosperity 
 are to be wished, but the good things that belong to adversity 
 are to be admired' ' Bona rerura secundarum optabilia, adver- 
 sarum mirabilia.' 1 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/ 2 This would have done better in 
 poesy, 3 where transcendencies 4 are more allowed ; and the poets, 
 indeed, have been busy with it for it is in effect the thing 
 which is figured in that strange fiction of the ancient poets, 
 which seemeth not to be without mystery ; 5 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 re- 
 presented), 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. 6 
 But to speak in a mean, 7 the virtue of prosperity is temper- 
 ance, 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 
 
 1 Sen. A A Lucil. 66. 2 Sen. Ad Lucil. 53. 
 
 3 Poesy. Poetry. 
 
 ' Musick and Poesy 
 To quicken you.' Shakespere. 
 
 4 Transcendencies. Flights; sdarings. 
 
 6 Mystery. A secret meaning ; an emblem. 
 
 ' Important truths still let your fables hold, 
 
 And moral mysteries with art enfold.' Oranville. 
 6 Apollod. Dear. Orig. u. 
 * Mean. Medium. 
 
 ' Temperance, with golden square, 
 Betwixt them both can measure out a mean.' ShaJcespere.
 
 70 Of Adversity. [Essay v. 
 
 favour. 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 laboured more in de- 
 scribing the afflictions of Job than the felicities 1 of Solomon. 
 Prosperity is not without many fears and distastes ; and adver- 
 sity is not without comforts and hopes. We see in needleworks 
 and embroideries, it is more pleasing to have a lively work 
 upon a sad 2 and solemn ground, than to have a dark and melan- 
 choly work upon a lightsome ground. Judge, therefore, of the 
 pleasure of the heart by the pleasure of the eye. Certainly 
 virtue is like precious odours, most fragrant where they are in- 
 censed 1 or crushed ; for prosperity doth best discover vice, and 
 adversity doth best discover virtue. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 Some kinds of adversity are chiefly of the character of TRIALS, 
 and others of DISCIPLINE. But Bacon does not advert to this 
 difference, nor say anything at all about the distinction between 
 discipline and trial ; which are quite different in themselves, but 
 often confounded together. 
 
 By 'discipline' is to be understood, anything whether of 
 the character of adversity or not that has a direct tendency 
 to produce improvement, or to create some qualification that 
 did not exist before ; and by trial, anything that tends to ascer- 
 tain what improvement has been made, or what qualities exist. 
 Both effects may be produced at once ; but what we speak of 
 is, the proper character of trial, as such, and of discipline, as 
 such. 
 
 A college tutor, for instance, seeks to make his pupils good 
 scholars ; an examiner , to ascertain how far each candidate is 
 such. It may so happen that the Tutor may be enabled to 
 
 1 Felicities (rarely used in the plural). ' The felicities of her wonderful reign.' 
 Atterbury. 
 
 2 Sad. Dark-coloured. ' I met him accidentally in London, in sad-coloured 
 clothes, far from being costly.' Walton's Lives. 
 
 3 Incensed. Set on fire ; burned.
 
 Essay v.] Annotations. 71 
 
 form a judgment of the proficiency of the pupils ; and that a 
 candidate may learn something from the Examiner. But what 
 is essential in each case, is incidental in the other. For, no one 
 would say that a course of lectures was a failure, if the pupils 
 were well instructed, though the teacher might not have ascer- 
 tained their proficiency ; or that an examination had not an- 
 swered its purpose, if the qualifications of the candidates were 
 proved, though they might have learnt nothing from it. 
 
 A corresponding distinction holds good in a great many 
 other things : for instance, what is called 'proving a gun/ that 
 is, loading it up to the muzzle and firing it does not at all 
 tend to increase its strength, but only proves that it is strong. 
 Proper hammering and tempering of the metal, on the other 
 hand, tends to make it strong. 
 
 These two things are, as has j ust been said, very likely to be 
 confounded together : (i.) because very often they are actually 
 combined ; as e.g., well-conducted exercise of the body, both 
 displays, and promotes, strength and agility. The same holds 
 good in the case of music, and various other pursuits, and in 
 none more than in virtuous practice. 
 
 (2.) Because from discipline and from trial, and anything 
 analogous to these, we may often draw the same inference, 
 though by different reasonings : e.g., if you know that a gun- 
 barrel has gone through such and such processes, under a skil- 
 ful metallurgist, you conclude a priori that it will be a strong 
 one; and again you draw the same inference from knowing that 
 it has been 'proved.' This latter is an argument from a sign ; 
 the other, from cause to effect? So also, if you know that 
 a man has been under a good tutor, this enables you to form 
 an a priori conjecture that he is a scholar ; and by a different 
 kind of argument, you infer the same from his having passed 
 an examination. 
 
 Great evils may arise from mistaking the one of these things 
 for the other. For instance, children's lives have been sacrificed 
 by the attempt to make them hardy by exposing them to cold, 
 and wet, and hardship. Those that have been so exposed are 
 (as many of them as survive) hardy ; because their having gone 
 through it proves that they were of a strong constitution, though 
 
 1 Rhetoric, part i. chap. n.
 
 72 Of Adversity. [Essay v. 
 
 it did not make them so. The ' proving ' of a gun is the cause, 
 not of its being strong, but of our knowing it to be strong. 
 And it is wonderful how prevalent in all subjects is the tendency 
 to confound these two things together : e.g., Balak says to 
 Balaam, ' I wot that he whom thou blessest is blessed, and he 
 whom thou cursest is cursed/ And this must have been true, 
 if Balaam was a true prophet ; but the mistake was, to suppose 
 that his curse or blessing brought on these results, when, in 
 truth, it brought only the knowledge of the divine designs and 
 sentences. 
 
 Different kinds of adversity, and also of prosperity, (for both 
 are equally trials, though it is only adversity that is usually 
 called such,) differ in this respect from each other, some being 
 more of the character of Discipline, and others of Trial. 
 
 Generally speaking, a small degree of persecution and oppres- 
 sion is more of a discipline for humanity, than very great and 
 long-continued. It is everywhere observed that a liberated 
 slave is apt to make a merciless master, and that boys who 
 have been cruelly fagged at school are cruel faggers. Sterne 
 introduces a tender-hearted negro girl, of whom it is remarked 
 that ' she had suffered oppression, and had learnt mercy/ as if 
 this was a natural consequence. It would have been more 
 true to have said, ' Although she had suffered much oppres- 
 sion/ &c. 
 
 Most of the early Reformers were intolerant. Most bitter 
 was the persecution, in the Low Countries, of the Arminians by 
 the Calvinists, who had very recently been delivered from perse- 
 cution themselves. 1 And a people who have been so long and 
 so severely persecuted as the Vaudois, and yet retain, as they 
 do, a mild and tolerant character, give strong evidence of the 
 domination of a real Christian principle. 
 
 The celebrated ' Pilgrim Fathers/ who fled from the tyranny 
 of Laud and his abettors, to America, and are described as 
 having ' sought only freedom to worship God,' had no notion 
 of allowing the same freedom to others, but enacted and 
 enforced the most severe penalties against all who differed from 
 
 1 See, in Lord Macaulay's History, a case of most atrocious cruelty perpetrated 
 by Presbyterians who had witnessed cruel persecution of themselves or their fathers. 
 Vol. iv. p. 781.
 
 Essay v.J Annotations. 73 
 
 them, and compelled the ever-venerated Roger Williams, the 
 great champion of toleration, to fly from them to Rhode Island, 
 where he founded a colony on his own truly Christian system. 
 One of the principal founders of the New England colony re- 
 monstrated with these persecutors, saying (in a letter given in 
 a late number of the Edinburgh Review}, 1 ' Reverend and dear 
 sirs, whom I unfeignedly love and respect, it doth not a little 
 grieve my spirit to hear what sad things are reported daily of 
 your tyranny and persecution in New England, as that you fine, 
 whip, and imprison men for their consciences. First, you 
 compel such to come into your assemblies as you know will not 
 join you in your worship ; and when they show their dislike 
 thereof, or witness against it, then you stir up your magistrates 
 to punish them, for such, as you conceive, their public affronts. 
 Truly, friends, this your practice of compelling any, in matters 
 of worship, to that whereof they are not fully persuaded, is to 
 make them sin ; for so the Apostle (Romans xiv. 23) tells us ; 
 and many are made hypocrites thereby, conforming in their 
 outward acts for fear of punishment. We pray for you, and 
 wish you prosperity every way; hoping the Lord would have 
 given you so much light and love there, that you might have 
 been eyes to God's people here, and not to practise those courses 
 in a wilderness which you went so far to prevent/ They replied, 
 ' Better be hypocrites than profane persons. Hypocrites give 
 God part of his due the outward man ; but the profane person 
 giveth God neither outward nor inward man. You know not 
 if you think we came into this wilderness to practise those 
 courses which we fled from in England. We believe there is 
 a vast difference between men's inventions and God's institu- 
 tions : we fled from men's inventions, to which we else should 
 have been compelled ; we compel none to men's inventions/ 
 
 About the same time Williams sent a warm remonstrance to 
 his old friend and governor, Endicott, against these violent 
 proceedings. The Massachusetts theocracy could not complain 
 that none showed them their error : they did not persevere in 
 the system of persecution without having its wrongfulness fully 
 pointed out. 
 
 ' Had Bunyan/ says the Reviewer/ ' opened his conventicle in 
 
 1 Oct. 1855, p. 564. 2 Page 510.
 
 74 Of Adversity. [Essay v. 
 
 Boston, he would have been banished, if not whipped ; had Lord 
 Baltimore appeared there, he would have been liable to perpetual 
 imprisonment. If Penn had escaped with either of his ears, 
 the more pertinacious Fox would, doubtless, have ended by 
 mounting the gallows with Marmaduke Stephenson or William 
 Leddra. Yet the authors of these extremities would have had 
 no admissible pretext. They were not instigated by the dread 
 of similar persecution, or by the impulse to retaliate. There 
 was no hierarchy to invite them to the plains of Armageddon ; 
 there was no Agag to hew in pieces, or kings and nobles to 
 bind with links of iron. They persecuted spontaneously, deli- 
 berately, and securely. Or rather, it might be said, they were 
 cruel under difficulties. They trod the grapes of their wine- 
 press in a city of refuge, and converted their Zoar into a house 
 of Egyptian bondage ; and, in this respect, we conceive they 
 are without a parallel in history/ 
 
 On the other hand, a short or occasional oppression is a good 
 discipline for teaching any one not very ill disposed to feel for 
 others. 
 
 Lord Macaulay beautifully illustrates this from the tale of the 
 Fisherman and the Genie, in the Arabian Nights. ' The genie 
 had at first vowed that he would confer wonderful gifts on 
 any one who should release him from the casket in which he 
 was imprisoned ; and during a second period he had vowed a 
 still more splendid reward. But being still disappointed, he 
 next vowed to grant no other favour to his liberator than to 
 chuse what death he should suffer. Even thus, a people who 
 have been enslaved and oppressed for some years are most 
 grateful to their liberators ; but those who are set free after 
 very long slavery are not unlikely to tear their liberators to pieces.' 
 
 Sickness is a kind of adversity which is both a trial and a 
 discipline ; but much more of a discipline when short, and of a 
 trial when very long. The kindness of friends during sickness 
 is calculated, when it is newly called forth, to touch the heart, 
 and call forth gratitude ; but the confirmed invalid is in danger 
 of becoming absorbed in self, and of taking all kinds of care 
 and of sacrifice as a matter of course. 
 
 Danger of death is another kind of adversity which has both 
 characters; but it is much more of a wholesome discipline
 
 Essay v.] Annotations. 75 
 
 when the danger is from a storm, or from any other external 
 cause than from sickness. The well-known proverb, ' the Devil 
 was sick/ &c., shows how generally it has been observed that 
 people, when they recover, forget the resolutions formed during 
 sickness. One reason of the difference and perhaps the chief 
 is, that it is so much easier to recall exactly the sensations 
 felt when in perfect health and yet in imminent danger, and to 
 act over again, as it were, in imagination, the whole scene, than to 
 recall fully, when in health, the state of mind during some sick- 
 ness, which itself so much affects the mind along with the body. 
 
 But it is quite possible either to improve, or to fail to im- 
 prove, either kind of affliction. 
 
 And, universally, it is to be observed that, though in other 
 matters, there may be trials which are nothing but trials, and 
 have no tendency to improve the subject tried, but merely to 
 test it (as in the case of the proving of a gun alluded to above), 
 this can never be the case in what relates to moral conduct. 
 Every kind of trial, if well endured, tends to fortify the good 
 principle. There are, indeed, many things which are more 
 likely to hurt than to improve the moral character ; and to such 
 trials we should be unjustifiable in exposing ourselves or others 
 unnecessarily. But these, if any one does go through them 
 well, do not merely prove the moral principle to be good, but 
 will have had the effect of still further fortifying it. There 
 is truth, both literally and metaphorically in the proverb, 
 that c The tree roots more fast, which has stood a rough 
 blast/ For it is found that the agitation of a tree in an 
 exposed situation, by winds which do not overthrow it, causes 
 it to put out more and stronger roots. Even so, every temptation 
 that has been withstood, every trial firmly undergone, 
 strengthens the roots of good principle. 
 
 And the converse, unhappily, holds good also. Every kind 
 of improving process religious study, good example, or what- 
 ever else, if it does not leave you the better, will leave you 
 the worse. Let no one natter himself that anything external 
 will make him wise or virtuous, without his taking pains to 
 learn wisdom or virtue from it. And if any one says of any 
 affliction, ' No doubt it is all sent for my good/ he should be 
 reminded to ask himself whether he is seeking to get any good 
 out of it. ' Sweet/ says the poet, ' are the uses of adversity/
 
 76 Of Adversity. [Essay v. 
 
 but this is for those only who take care to make a good use 
 of it. 
 
 Most carefully should we avoid the error which some 
 parents, not (otherwise) deficient in good sense, commit, of im- 
 posing gratuitous restrictions and privations, and purposely 
 inflicting needless disappointments, for the purpose of inuring 
 children to the pains and troubles they will meet with in after- 
 life. Yes, be assured they will meet with quite enough, in 
 every portion of life, including childhood, without your strewing 
 their paths with thorns of your own providing. And often 
 enough will you have to limit their amusements for the sake of 
 needful study, to restrain their appetites for the sake of health, 
 to chastise them for faults, and in various ways to inflict pain 
 or privations for the sake of avoiding some greater evils. Let 
 this always be explained to them whenever it is possible to do 
 so; and endeavour in all cases to make them look on the parent 
 as never the voluntary giver of anything but good. To any 
 hardships which they are convinced you inflict reluctantly, and 
 to those which occur through the dispensations of the All- Wise, 
 they will more easily be trained to submit with a good grace, 
 than to any gratuitous sufferings devised for them by fallible 
 men. To raise hopes on purpose to produce disappointment, to 
 give provocation merely to exercise the temper, and, in short, 
 to inflict pain of any kind merely as a training for patience and 
 fortitude this is a kind of discipline which Man should not 
 presume to attempt. If such trials prove a discipline not so 
 much of cheerful fortitude as of resentful aversion and suspicious 
 distrust of the parent as a capricious tyrant, you will have only 
 yourself to thank for this result. 
 
 ' Since the end of suffering, as a moral discipline/ says an 
 excellent writer in the Edinburgh Review (January, 1847), on 
 the Life of Pascal, ' is only to enable us at last to bear unclouded 
 happiness, what guarantee can we now have of its beneficial 
 effect on us, except by partial experiments of our capacity of 
 recollecting and practising the lessons of adversity in intervals 
 of prosperity ? It is true that there is no more perilous ordeal 
 through which Man can pass no greater curse which can be 
 imposed on him, as he is at present constituted than that of
 
 Essay v.] Annotations. 77 
 
 being compelled to walk his life long in the sunlight of unshaded 
 prosperity. His eyes ache with that too untempered brilliance 
 he is apt to be smitten with a moral coup de soleil. But it 
 as little follows that no sunshine is good for us. He who made 
 us, and who tutors us, alone knows what is the exact measure 
 of light and shade, sun and cloud, storm and calm, frost and heat, 
 which will best tend to mature those flowers which are the 
 object of this celestial husbandry ; and which, when transplanted 
 into the paradise of God, are to bloom there for ever in 
 amaranthine loveliness. Nor can it be without presumption 
 that we essay to interfere with these processes; our highest 
 wisdom, is to fall in with them. And certain it is that every 
 man will find by experience that he has enough to do, to bear 
 with patience and fortitude the real afflictions with which God 
 may visit him, without venturing to fill up the intervals in 
 which He has left him ease, and even invites him to gladness, 
 by a self-imposed and artificial sorrow. Nay, if his mind be 
 well constituted, he will feel that the learning how to apply, in 
 hours of happiness, the lessons which he has learned in the 
 school of sorrow, is not one of the least difficult lessons which 
 sorrow has to teach him ; not to mention that the grateful 
 reception of God's gifts is as true a part of duty and even 
 a more neglected part of it than a patient submission to his 
 chastisements. 
 
 ' It is at our peril, then, that we seek to interfere with the 
 discipline which is provided for us. He who acts as if God had 
 mistaken the proportions in which prosperity and adversity should 
 be allotted to us and seeks by hair shirts, prolonged abstinence, 
 and self-imposed penance, to render more perfect the discipline 
 of suffering, only enfeebles instead of invigorating his piety; 
 and resembles one of those hypochondriacal patients the plague 
 and torment of physicians who having sought advice, and 
 being supposed to follow it, are found not only taking their 
 physician's well-judged prescriptions, but secretly dosing them- 
 selves in the intervals with some quackish nostrum. Thus it 
 was even with a Pascal and we cannot see that the experiment 
 was attended in his case with any better effects/
 
 7 8 Of Adversity. [Essay v. 
 
 ' Prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testament ; Adversity is 
 the blessing of the New' 
 
 The distinguishing characteristic of the Old Covenant, of the 
 Mosaic Law, was that it was enforced by a system of temporal 
 rewards and judgments, administered according to an extra- 
 ordinary [miraculous] providence. The Israelites were promised, 
 as the reward of obedience, long life, and health, and plentiful 
 harvests, and victory over their enemies. And the punishments 
 threatened for disobedience were pestilence, famine, defeat, and 
 a'l] kinds of temporal calamity. These were the rewards and 
 punishments that formed the sanction of the Mosaic Law. But 
 the New Covenant, the Gospel, held out as its sanction rewards 
 and punishments in the next world, and those only. The 
 former kingdom of God was a kingdom of this world. The 
 Lord Jesus, on the contrary, declared that the new kingdom of 
 God, His kingdom, ' was not of this world.' And so far from 
 promising worldly prosperity to his followers as a reward of 
 their obedience to Him, He prepared them for suffering and 
 death in his cause, even such as He endured Himself; and pro- 
 nounced them 'blessed when men should hate and persecute' 
 them in his cause, saying, ' great is your reward in Heaven/ 
 The Disciples were indeed taught, and through them all 
 Christians in every age are taught, that the painful trials sent 
 to them were among the ' things that work together for good 
 (that is, spiritual and eternal good) to them that love God ;' and 
 that they ought not to think it f strange concerning the fiery 
 trial which was to try them, as though some strange thing 
 happened unto them/ but to look to the example of the Lord 
 Jesus, and 'rejoice in Him always.' 
 
 Under the Christian dispensation, therefore, chastisement is 
 for a very different purpose from retribution ; the allotment of 
 good and evil, according to the character of each man (which is 
 properly retribution), is reserved for the next world. The Apostle 
 Paul points out as one of the characteristics of the Gospel, that 
 in it God has ' commanded all men everywhere to repent, inas- 
 much as He has APPOINTED A DAY in which He will judge 
 the world in righteousness.' 
 
 The novelty and peculiarity of this announcement consisted,
 
 Essay v.] Annotations. 79 
 
 not in declaring the Deity to be the Judge of the world (for 
 this the Jews knew, and most of the Pagans believed), but in 
 declaring that He had appointed a day for that judgment, before 
 Christ's tribunal in the next world. They were henceforth to 
 look for a retribution, not, as before with the Jews, regular, and 
 with other nations occasionally, but prepared for all men accord- 
 ing to the character of each ; not, as before, immediate in the 
 present life, but in the life to come. 
 
 It is true that some men, who are nearly strangers to such 
 a habit, may be for a time more alarmed by the denunciation 
 of immediate temporal judgments for their sins, than by any 
 considerations relative to 'the things which are not seen and 
 which are eternal.' And when such denunciations rest not on 
 uncertain predictions, but on an undeniable and notorious con- 
 nexion of cause with effect, as, for instance, of intemperance 
 with disease, or of prodigality with penury a salutary alarm 
 may be created in some who are unmoved by higher considera- 
 tions. But such an alarm should be regarded merely as a first 
 step ; as a scaffolding which is to be succeeded by a building 
 of better foundation. For, the effect thus produced, if we trust 
 to that alone, is much less likely to be lasting, or while it lasts 
 to be salutary, because temporal alarm does not tend to make 
 men spiritually-minded, and any reformation of manners it may 
 have produced, will not have been founded on Christian prin- 
 ciples. A man is not more acceptable in the sight of God than 
 before, though more likely to attain the temporal objects he 
 aims at, if he is acting on no higher motive than the goods and 
 evils of the present world can supply. ' Verily I say unto you, 
 they have their reward/ 
 
 But to look for temporal retribution, is surely inconsistent 
 with the profession of a religion whose Founder was persecuted 
 and crucified, and whose first preachers were exposed to 'hunger, 
 and thirst, and cold, and nakedness/ and every kind of hard- 
 ship, and were ' made the offscouring of all things ; ' so that 
 they declared that ' if in this life only they had hope in Christ, 
 they were of all men most miserable/ We should consider, too, 
 that those very sufferings were a stumblingblock to the unbe- 
 lieving Jews ; not merely from their being unwilling to expose 
 themselves to the like, according to the forewarnings of Jesus, 
 such as 'In this world ye shall have tribulation;' but still more
 
 8o Of Adversity. [Essay v. 
 
 from their regarding these sufferings as a mark of divine dis- 
 pleasure, and consequently a proof that Jesus could not have 
 come from God. Because He was ' a man of sorrows and ac- 
 quainted with grief/ they 'did esteem him stricken, SMITTEN 
 OF GOD, and afflicted/ and they ' hid their face from Him/ 
 
 And it should he remembered, that the Jews, who had been 
 brought up under a dispensation sanctioned by temporal rewards 
 and punishments, were less inexcusable in this their error, than 
 those Christians who presume to measure the divine favour and 
 disfavour by temporal events.
 
 ESSAY VI. OF SIMULATION 1 AND DIS- 
 SIMULATION. 
 
 T\ISSIMULATION is but a faint kind of policy, or wisdom ; 
 -L' for it asketh a strong wit and a strong heart to know 
 when to tell truth, and to do it therefore it is the weaker sort 
 of politicians that are the greatest dissemblers. 
 
 Tacitus saith, ' Li via sorted 2 well with the arts of her hus- 
 band and dissimulation of her son/ 3 attributing arts of 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/ 4 These pro- 
 perties of arts, or policy, and dissimulation, and closeness, are 
 indeed habits and faculties several/ and to be distinguished ; 
 for if a man have that penetration of judgment as 6 he can 
 discern what things are to be laid open, and what to be secreted, 
 and what to l3e 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 hindrance 
 and a poorness. But if a man cannot obtain to 7 that judgment, 
 then it is left to him generally to be close, and a dissembler ; 
 for where a man cannot chuse 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 
 
 1 Simulation. The pretending that to be which is not. ' The feigning to be 
 what one is not by gesture, action, or behaviour, is called simulation.' South. 
 
 2 Sort. To fit; suit. 
 
 ' It sorts well with your fierceness.' ShaTcespere. 
 
 3 Tacit. Annal. v. i. 4 Tacit. Hist. ii. 76. 
 
 5 Several. Different ; distinct. 
 
 1 Four several armies to the field are led, 
 Which, high in equal hopes, four princes lead.' Drgden. 
 
 6 As. That. See pnge 26. 7 Obtain to. Attain to* 
 
 G
 
 8 a Of Simulation and Dissimulation. [Essay vi. 
 
 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 indus- 
 triously and expressly feigns and pretends to be that 1 he is not. 
 
 For the first of these, secrecy, it is indeed the virtue of a 
 confessor; and assuredly the secret man heareth many con- 
 fessions, 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 confessing, 
 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 in body ; and it addeth no small reverence to men's manners 
 and actions, if they be not altogether open. As for talkers, 
 and futile 2 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 a habit of 
 secrecy is both politic and moral ; and in this part it is good 
 that a man's face give his tongue leave to speak ; for the dis- 
 covery of a man's self, by the tracts 3 . 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 4 carriage between 
 
 1 That. What ; that which. ' To do always that is righteous in thy sight.' 
 English Liturgy. 
 
 2 Futile. Talkative ; loquacious. ' The parable (Prov. xxix. 2), it seems, espe- 
 cially corrects not the futility of vaine persons which easily utter as well what may 
 be spoken as what should be secreted ; not garrulity whereby they fill others, even 
 to a surfeit ; but the government of speech.' On Learning. By G. Watts. 
 
 ' Tracts. Traits (traicts) ; features. 
 
 * Indifferent. Impartial. 'That they may truly and indifferently minister 
 justice.' Prayer for the Church Militant.
 
 Essay vi.] Of Simulation and Dissimulation. 83 
 
 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 1 speeches, they cannot hold out long; so that no 
 man can be secret, except he give himself a little scope of dissi- 
 mulation, which is, as it were, but the skirts or train of secrecy. 
 
 But for the third degree, which is simulation and false pro- 
 fession, 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 2 
 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 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 alarm 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 declara- 
 tion, 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 averse, but will (fair 3 ) 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 4 flying up to the mark; the second, 
 
 1 Oraculous. Oracular. 
 
 ' He spoke oraculous and sly ; 
 He'd neither grant the question, nor deny.' King. 
 
 2 Of. From. ' Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness.' 
 Luke xvi. 9. 
 
 3 Fair (adverb). Complaisantly. 
 
 'Thus fair they parted till the morrow's dawn.' Dryden. 
 * Bound. Direct. 
 
 ' Let her be round with him.' Shakespere. 
 G 2
 
 84 Of Simulation and Dissimulation. [Essay vi. 
 
 that it puzzleth and perplexeth the conceits 1 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 2 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. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION. 
 
 PEG. CONTEA. 
 
 ' Dissimulatio, compendiaria sapien- ' Quibus artes civiles supra captum 
 
 tia. ingeuii sunt, iis dissiumlatio pro pru- 
 
 ' The art of concealing is a short cut dentia erit. 
 
 to the most important part of practical ' Those whose minds cannot grasp 
 
 wisdom.' political sagacity, substitute dissimula- 
 tion for prudence' 
 
 ' Sepes consiliorum, dissimulatio. 
 
 ' Concealment is the hedge of our ' Qui dissimulat, prsecipuo ad agen- 
 
 designs' dum instrumento se privat i.e., fide. 
 
 'He who practises concealment de- 
 
 ' Qui indissimulanter omnia agit, aeque ' prives himself of a most important in- 
 
 decipit; nam plurimi, aut non capiunt, strument of action namely, confidence' 
 aut non credunt. 
 
 ' He who acts in all things openly ' Dissimulatio dissimulationera invitat. 
 
 does not deceive the less ; for most ' Dissimulation invites dissimulation.' 
 
 persons either do not understand, or do 
 not believe him.' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' Of Simulation.' 
 
 It is a pity that our language has lost the word ' simulation ;' 
 so that we are forced to make ' dissimulation' serve for both 
 senses. 
 
 ' Id quod abest, simulat, dissimulat quod adest.' 3 
 
 ' The ablest men have all had an openness and frankness/ &c. 
 There is much truth in Bacon's remark in the Antitheta, 
 
 1 Conceits. Conceptions as : 
 
 ' You have a noble and a true conceit 
 Of godlike amity.' Shakespere. 
 
 2 Temperature. Constitution. ' Memory depends upon the temperature of the 
 brain.' Watts. 
 
 * ' Simulates that which is not j dissimulates that which is.'
 
 Essay vi.] Annotations. 85 
 
 that those whose whole conduct is open and undisguised deceive 
 people not the less, because the generality either do not under- 
 stand them, or do not believe them. And this is particularly 
 the case when those you have to deal with are of a crafty cha- 
 racter. They expend great ingenuity in guessing what it is 
 you mean, or what you design to do, and the only thing that 
 never occurs to them, is, just what you have said. 
 
 It is to be observed, however, that some persons, who are not 
 really frank and open characters, appear such, from their want 
 of delicacy and of refined moral taste. They speak openly of 
 things pertaining to themselves (such as most people would 
 suppress), not from incapacity for disguise, or from meaning to 
 making a confidant of you, but from absence of shame. And 
 such a person may be capable of much artifice when it suits his 
 purpose. It is well, therefore, that the inexperienced should 
 be warned against mistaking shamelessness for sincerity of 
 character. 
 
 Those who are habitually very reserved, and (as Miss Edge- 
 worth expresses it in one of her tales) ' think that in general it 
 is best not to mention things/ will usually meet with fewer 
 tangible failures than the more communicative, unless these 
 latter possess an unusual share of sagacity; but the latter will 
 (unless excessively imprudent) have a greater amount of success, 
 on the w r hole, by gaining many advantages which the others 
 will have missed. 
 
 t e They will so beset a man with questions.' 
 
 There is, as Bacon observes, a great difficulty in dealing with 
 such persons; for a true answer to their impertinent questions 
 might do great mischief; and to refuse an answer would be 
 understood as the same thing. ' Pray, do you know the author 
 of that article ? Is it your friend Mr. So-and-so ?' or, ' Is it 
 true that your friend Such-a-one has had heavy losses, and is 
 likely to become insolvent ?' or, ( Is he concealed in such-and- 
 such a place ?' &c. If you reply, ' I do not chuse to answer/ 
 this will be considered as equivalent to an answer in the affir- 
 mative. 
 
 It is told of Dean Swift, that when some one he had lampooned 
 came and asked him whether he was the writer of those verses, 
 he replied, that long ago he had consulted an experienced
 
 86 Of Simulation and Dissimulation. [Essay vi. 
 
 lawyer what was best to be done when some scoundrel who had 
 been shown up in a satire asked him whether he were the 
 author ; and that the lawyer advised him always, whether he had 
 written it or not, to deny the authorship, and, ' accordingly/ 
 said he, ' I now tell you that I am not the author/ 
 
 Some similar kind of rebuke is, perhaps, the best answer to 
 give. 
 
 A well-known author once received a letter from a peer with 
 whom he was slightly acquainted, asking him whether he was 
 the author of a certain article in the Edinburgh Review. He 
 replied that he never made communications of that kind, except 
 to intimate friends, selected by himself for the purpose, when 
 he saw fit. His refusal to answer, however, pointed him out 
 which, as it happened, he did not care for as the author. But 
 a case might occur, in which the revelation of the authorship 
 might involve a friend in some serious difficulties. In any such 
 case, he might have answered something in this style : ( I have 
 received a letter purporting to be from your lordship, but the 
 matter of it induces me to suspect that it is a forgery by some 
 mischievous trickster. The writer asks whether I am the 
 author of a certain article. It is a sort of question which no 
 one has a right to ask ; and I think, therefore, that every one 
 is bound to discourage such inquiries by answering them 
 whether one is or is not the author with a rebuke for asking 
 impertinent questions about private matters. I say ' private/ 
 because, if an article be libellous or seditious, the law is open, 
 and any one may proceed against the publisher, and compel 
 him either to give up the author, or to bear the penalty. If, 
 again, it contains false statements, these, coming from an 
 anonymous pen, may be simply contradicted. And if the 
 arguments be unsound, the obvious course is to refute them. 
 But who wrote it, is a question of idle or of mischievous 
 curiosity, as it relates to the private concerns of an individual. 
 
 ' If I were to ask your lordship, ' Do you spend your income ? 
 or lay by ? or outrun ? Do you and your lady ever have an 
 altercation ? Was she your first love ? or were you attached 
 to some one else before ?' If I were to ask such questions, 
 your lordship's answer would probably be, to desire the footman 
 to show me out. Now, the present inquiry I regard as no less 
 unjustifiable, and relating to private concerns : and, therefore, I
 
 Essay vi.] Annotations. 87 
 
 think every one bound, when so questioned, always, whether he 
 is the author or not, to meet the inquiry with a rebuke. 
 
 ' Hoping that my conjecture is right, of the letter's being a 
 forgery, I remain/ &c. 
 
 In any case, however, in which a refusal to answer does not 
 convey any information, the best way, perhaps, of meeting im- 
 pertinent inquiries, is by saying, ' Can you keep a secret ?' and 
 M'hen the other answers that he can, you may reply, ' Well, so 
 can I.' 
 
 ' Openness in fame and opinion' 
 
 'Everybody (says one of Miss Edgeworth's characters) says 
 that my mother is the most artful woman in the world : and / 
 should think so, if everybody did not say it ; for if she was, you 
 know, nobody would ever find it out/ There is certainly no 
 point in which the maxim is more applicable, that ' it is a 
 matter of Art to conceal the Art/ 
 
 ' The power to feign when there is no remedy.' 
 
 This power is certainly a dangerous one to possess, because 
 one will be tempted to say, again and again, and on slighter and 
 slighter occasions, ' Now, there is no remedy; there is nothing 
 for it but to feign :' that is, perhaps, there is no other mode of 
 effecting the object you have in view. 
 
 Certainly it is a nobler thing to have the power and not to 
 use it, than to abstain from feigning, through incapacity. But 
 there are few cases, and to most people, none, in which it is 
 justifiable. It is indeed quite allowable for a General to deceive 
 the enemy by stratagems (so called from that very circumstance), 
 because where no confidence is reposed, none can be violated. 
 And again it is a kind of war that is carried on between police- 
 men and thieves. In dealing with madmen, again, there is no 
 more fraud in deceiving them than in angling for trout with an 
 artificial fly; because you are not really dealing with fellow- 
 men. For, though an insane patient considered as to his own 
 proper self, apart from his malady, is, of course, entitled to 
 justice and kindness, he is, in his present state, what is usually 
 (and not incorrectly) called ' one beside himself ' not himself 
 ' out of his mind ;' and is regarded as not responsible for his 
 acts, on the very ground that they are not properly his own 
 acts, but those of an irrational being.
 
 88 Of Simulation and Dissimulation. [Essay vi. 
 
 But with the exception of such cases, feigning cannot be 
 justified. 
 
 A pleader is greatly exposed to temptations to this practice. 
 He has indeed a right to urge all that can be fairly said in his 
 client's favour, and to expose any flaws in the opposite evidence. 
 But it will often serve his cause, to protest solemnly his own 
 sincere conviction, when he feels none ; to tax with falsehood 
 the opposed witnesses, when there is no ground for it ; and to 
 bring forward fallacious arguments, and mis-statements of facts. 
 [See the Essay on ' Judicature/] And perhaps he salves his 
 conscience by the consideration that no one is bound to believe 
 him ; though it is evident he says what he does say, in the hope 
 of being believed. 
 
 How little there is in the world of a really scrupulous re- 
 verence for truth, one may see but too many proofs every day. 
 The sentiment expressed by an author of some repute (noticed 
 iu the Annotations on Essay I.), implies not only an utter dis- 
 regard for truth, in what pertains to religion, but also a convic- 
 tion (founded probably on some knowledge of the world) that 
 the open avowal of this was not likely to do him any discredit. 
 We see journalists, again, admitted so they do but write ably 
 to be guides of public opinion, even when it is manifest and 
 notorious that they have no principle but that of writing what 
 will sell best, and are ready to pander to any popular prejudice, 
 and to contradict to-day what they said yesterday, without the 
 least regard for truth and justice, or for the public welfare, or 
 even for decent consistency, when gain is in prospect. 
 
 And we may see men admired not only as eminently pious, 
 but as sincere, who have openly professed and vindicated the 
 system of ' reserve/ (or ' economy/) that is, the concealment of 
 their own real sentiments, and the deliberate suppression of 
 portions of God's revealed truth ; which are to be kept back, it 
 seems, from the mass of mankind. But then, what these men 
 do teach, is, we are told, the truth, though not the whole 
 truth : as if the omission of one portion did not materially 
 affect, in practice, the character of the rest. 1 It has been 
 
 1 The reader is referred to Archdeacon West's Discourse on Reserve ; to the 
 Charge on Instruction in the Scriptures (1857), sec. 7, and to that usefiil and 
 important work, the Index to the Tracts for the Times.
 
 Essay vi.] Annotations. 89 
 
 remarked that in a marble statue, every particle remains in 
 exactly the same position in which it existed in the block; the 
 sculptor has merely removed the other portions, and thus dis- 
 covered the statue. Yet he is generally considered to have 
 made a graven image. 
 
 Then again, these same Divines have found a mode of inter- 
 preting ' in a non-natural sense/ the Articles and other Formu- 
 laries of the Church to which they profess adherence; holding 
 it allowable to take words in any sense they can be brought to 
 bear, in open disregard of the sense in which the writers 
 designed and knew them to be understood. 1 
 
 And the same principle is sometimes acted on by persons of 
 quite a different school. These have been known, for instance, 
 to maintain that our Lord's declaration, ' My kingdom is not 
 of this world/ may be interpreted as relating to the then-present 
 time only, and does not imply that his kingdom though ' not 
 of this world/ then, was not to become such, hereafter ! He 
 however must have known that his words could not have been 
 so understood ; else He would have been pleading guilty to the 
 charge brought against Him. For, the very design imputed to 
 Him and his followers, and which they always disavowed, was 
 that of designing hereafter to subvert existing governments, 
 and monopolize temporal power. If therefore they had 
 cherished such a design, while they expressed themselves ambi- 
 guously, so as to be understood to disclaim it, then, most fairly 
 might the most fraudulent of the Jesuits call themselves ' com- 
 panions of Jesus ! ' 
 
 It is really painful to be compelled to impute disingenuous- 
 ness to persons who manifest much religious zeal. But when 
 men are found using such arguments, and maintaining such 
 principles, on some points, as, on others, they reprobate; 
 setting up, for instance, to serve a purpose, a tradition more 
 recent by several centuries 2 than any of the Romish ones which 
 they deride, it is impossible to give them credit for sincerity 
 iu the means resorted to, however sincere may be their belief 
 in the goodness of their end. 
 
 1 See Tract XC., reprinted by Messrs. Hope, London. 
 2 See Thoughts on the Sabbath.
 
 90 Of Simulation and Dissimulation. [Essay vi. 
 
 ' Dissimulation is but a faint kind of policy' 
 
 "What Bacon says of the inexpediency of all insincere proceed- 
 ings is very true. Nothing but the right can ever be the expedient, 
 since that can never be true expediency which would sacrifice a 
 greater good to a less, ' For what shall it profit a man, if he 
 shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul/ It will be 
 found that all frauds, like the 'wall daubed with untempered 
 mortar/ with which men think to buttress up an edifice, tend to 
 the decay of that which they are devised to support. This truth, 
 however, will never be steadily acted on by those who have no 
 moral detestation of falsehood. It is not given to those who 
 do not prize straightforwardness for its own sake, to perceive 
 that it is the wisest course. The maxim that ( honesty is the 
 best policy' is one which, perhaps, no one ever is habitually 
 guided by in practice. An honest man is always before it, and a 
 knave is generally behind it. He does not find out, till too late, 
 
 ' What a tangled web we weave 
 When first we practise to deceive.' 
 
 No one, in fact, is capable of fully appreciating the ultimate 
 expediency of a devoted adherence to Truth, save the divine 
 Being, who is ' the Truth ;' because He alone comprehends the 
 whole of the vast and imperfectly-revealed scheme of Providence, 
 and alone can see the inmost recesses of the human heart, and 
 alone can foresee and judge of the remotest consequences of 
 human actions.
 
 ESSAY VII. 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 1 utter 
 the other. Children sweeten labours, but they make misfor- 
 tunes more bitter; they increase the cares of life, but they 
 mitigate the remembrance of death. The perpetuity by genera- 
 tion 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 mother ; as Solomon saith, ' A wise son re- 
 joiceth the father, but an ungracious son shames the mother/ 2 
 A man shall see, where there is a house full of children, one or 
 two of the eldest respected, and the youngest made wantons ; 
 but in the midst some that are as it were forgotten, who, many 
 times, nevertheless, prove the best. The illiberality of parents, 
 in allowance towards their children, is a harmful 3 error, and 
 makes them base, acquaints them with shifts, makes them sort 4 
 with mean company, and makes them surfeit more when they 
 come to plenty ; and therefore the proof is best 5 when men keep 
 their authority towards their children, but not their purse. Men 
 have a foolish manner (both parents, and schoolmasters, and ser- 
 vants), in creating and breeding an emulation between brothers 
 
 1 Nor they will not. Nor will they. 2 Proverbs x. I. 
 
 3 Harmful. Pernicious, 
 
 ' Sleepy poppies harmful harvests yield.' Dryden. 
 
 4 Sort. To associate with ; to consort. ' Metals sort and herd with other 
 metals in the earth.' Woodward. 
 
 6 The proof is best. The safest course.
 
 92 Of Parents and Children. [Essay vii. 
 
 during childhood, which many times sorteth 1 to discord when 
 they are men, and disturbeth families. The Italians make 
 little difference between children and nephews, or near kinsfolk ; 
 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 some- 
 times resembleth an uncle, or a kinsman, more than his own 
 parents, as the blood happens. Let parents chuse 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 think- 
 ing they will take best to that which they have most mind to. 
 It is true, that if the affection, 2 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 
 consuetude/ 3 Younger brothers are commonly fortunate, but 
 seldom or never where the elder are disinherited. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ( Let parents chuse betimes the vocations and courses they mean 
 their children should take. . . . And let them not too 
 much apply themselves to the disposition of their children.' 
 
 It is only in very rare and extreme cases that Bacon allows 
 the inclination of children to be followed in the choice of a 
 profession. But he surely makes too little allowance (and, 
 perhaps, the majority of parents do so) for the great diversity 
 of natural faculties. It is not only such marvellous geniuses 
 as occur but in five out of a million, that will succeed in one 
 course far better than in any other. Numbers of men who 
 would never attain any extraordinary eminence in anything, are 
 
 1 Sort. To issue in (from sortir). 
 
 ' All my pains is sorted to no proof.' Shakespere. 
 
 2 Affection. Strong inclination to. ' All the precepts of Christianity command 
 us to temper our affections towards all things below.' Temple. 
 
 3 ' Chuse the best, and custom will render it agreeable and easy.'
 
 Essay vii.] Annotations. 93 
 
 yet so constituted as to make a very respectable figure in the 
 department that is suited for them, and to fall below mediocrity 
 in a different one. 
 
 The world has been compared by some one to a board covered 
 with holes of many various shapes, and pegs fitted for each, but 
 which are scattered about at random, so that it is a mere chance 
 whether a peg falls into the hole that fits it. 
 
 A. B. was the son of a schoolmaster who had a great love of 
 literature. The son had a perfect hatred of it, and was a mere 
 dunce at his book. Various attempts were made, which proved 
 perfect failures, to train him to some of what are called the 
 learned professions ; and he was, to all appearance, turning 
 out what they call a ' ne'er-do-weel/ As a last resource he 
 was sent out to a new colony. There he was in his element ; 
 for, when at school, though dull at learning and soon forgetting 
 what he had read, he never saw a horse nor a carriage, once, 
 that he did not readily recognise; and he really understood all 
 that belonged to each. In the colony he became one of the 
 most thriving settlers ; skilful in making roads, erecting mills, 
 draining, cattle-breeding, &c., and was advanced to a situation 
 of trust in the colony. And it is worth remarking that he be- 
 came a very steady and well-conducted man, having been before 
 the reverse. For it adds greatly to a young man's temptations 
 to fall into habits of idleness and dissipation, if he is occupied 
 in some pursuit in which he despairs of success, and for which 
 he has a strong disinclination. 
 
 C. D., again, was at a university, and was below the average 
 in all academical pursuits ; but he was the greatest mechanical 
 genius in the university ; not excepting the professors. He never 
 examined any machine, however complex, that he could not 
 with his own hands construct a model of it, and sometimes with 
 improvements. He would have made a first-rate engineer ; but 
 family arrangements caused him to take Orders. He was a 
 diligent and conscientious clergyman, but a dull and common- 
 place one ; except that, in repairing, and altering, and fitting up 
 his parsonage and his church, he was unrivalled. In this sense 
 no one could be more edifying, 
 
 When, however, a youth is supposed to have, and believes 
 himself to have, a great turn for such and such a profession, you 
 should make sure that he understands what the profession is,
 
 0,4 Of Parents and Children. [Essay vii. 
 
 and has faculties for what it really does require. A youth, e.g., 
 who is anxious to enter the Navy, and thinks only of sailing 
 about to various countries, having an occasional brush with an 
 enemy, and leading altogether a jolly life, without any notion of 
 the study, and toils, and privations he will have to go through, 
 should have his views corrected. 
 
 E. F. was thought by his friends to have made this mistake ; 
 and when, at his earnest entreaty, he was sent to sea, they 
 secretly begged the captain to make his life as unpleasant as 
 possible : being anxious to sicken him. He was accordingly 
 snubbed, and rated, and set to the most laborious duties, and 
 never commended or encouraged. But he bore all, and did all, 
 with unflinching patience and diligence. At last the captain 
 revealed the whole to him, saying, ' I can carry on this disguise 
 no longer ; you are the finest young man I ever had under me, 
 and I have long admired your conduct while I pretended to 
 scold you.' But perhaps part of his good conduct may have 
 sprung from the cause which Bacon alludes to in the last 
 sentence of his Essay on ' Marriage.' 
 
 G. H., who had, as a youth, a vehement longing to go to sea, 
 was positively interdicted by his father. Hence, though pos- 
 sessing very good abilities, and not without aspirations after 
 excellence, he never could be brought to settle down steadily to 
 anything, but broke off from every promising pursuit that he 
 was successively engaged in, in pursuit of some phantom. 
 
 It is observable that a parent who is unselfish, and who is 
 never thinking of personal inconvenience, but always of the 
 children's advantage, will be likely to make them selfish ; for 
 she will let that too plainly appear, so as to fill the child with 
 an idea that everything is to give way to him, and that his 
 concerns are an ultimate end. Nay, the very pains taken with 
 him in strictly controlling him, heightens his idea of his own 
 vast importance ; whereas a parent who is selfish will be sure 
 to accustom the child to sacrifice his own convenience, and to 
 understand that he is of much less importance than the parent. 
 This, by the way, is only one of many cases in which selfishness 
 is caught from those who have least of it.
 
 ESSAY VIII. 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 impertinencies ; l nay, there are some other that account 
 wife and children but as bills of charges ; 2 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 a 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 3 minds, which are so sensible 
 of every restraint, as 4 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, 
 
 1 Impertinencies. Things wholly irrelevant ; things of little or no importance. 
 
 ' O matter and impertinency mixed, 
 
 Reason and madness.' Shakespere. 
 ' There are many subtle impertinences learnt in schools.' Watts. 
 
 2 Charges. Cost ; expense. 
 
 ' I'll he at charges for a looking-glass, 
 And entertain a score or two of tailors.' Shakespere. 
 
 3 Humorous. Governed by one's own fancy or predominant inclination. 
 
 ' I am known to be a humorous patrician.' Shakespere. 
 
 ' He that would learn to pass a just sentence upon men and things, must beware 
 of a fanciful temper, and a humorous conduct in affairs.' Watts. 
 
 ' Or self-conceited, play the humorous Platonist.' Drayton. 
 
 4 As. That. See page 26.
 
 96 Of Marriage and Single Life. [Essay viii. 
 
 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 among the Turks maketh 
 the vulgar soldier more base. Certainly wife and children are 
 a kind of discipline of humanity : and single men, though they 
 be many times more charitable, because their means are less 
 exhaust, 1 yet, on the other side, they are more cruel and hard- 
 hearted (good to make severe inquisitors), because their tender- 
 ness is not so oft called upon. Grave natures, led by custom, 
 arid therefore constant, are commonly loving husbands, as was 
 said of Ulysses, l Vetulam suam prsetulit 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 thinks 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 3 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.' 4 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 chusing, against 
 their friends' consent ; for then they will be sure to make good 
 their own folly. 
 
 1 Exhaust. Exhamted. 
 
 'The wealth 
 
 Of the Canaries was exhaust, the health 
 Of his good Majesty to celebrate.' Habington. 
 
 * ' He preferred his old woman to immortality/ Pint. Oryll. I. 
 
 3 Quarrel. A reason ; a plea. (Perhaps, from Quare, wherefore, used in law 
 for a plea in trespass.) Or perhaps this oldest use of it for reason or plea, is the 
 original meaning of querela, retained in Querulous putting forth a pitiful plea. 
 ' He thought he had a good quarrel to attack him.' Holinshed. 
 
 * Thales. Vid. Diog. Laert. i. 26.
 
 Essay viii.] Annotations. 97 
 
 ANTITHETA ON WIFE AND CHILDREN. 
 
 PEG. CONTHA. 
 
 ' Charitas reipublicae incipit a familia. ' Qui uxorem duxit, et liberos suscepit, 
 
 ' The love of country has its rise in obsides fortunse dedit. 
 
 family affection' ' He that has a wife and children 
 
 has given hostages to fortune' 
 
 ' Uxor et liberi disciplina qusedam hu- 
 
 manitatis; at cselibes tetrici et severi. ' Brutorum eternitas soboles ; virorum 
 
 ' A wife and children are a sort of fama, merita, et instituta. 
 training in courtesy and kindliness ; ' The perpetuation of brutes is off- 
 white single men, on the other hand, are spring ; but that of man is their glory, 
 hard and severe' their deserts } and their institutions' 
 
 ' Cselibatus et orbitas ad nil aliud ' (Economicae rationes publicas pie- 
 
 conferunt, quam ad fugam. runque evertunt. 
 
 ' Celibacy and absence of kindred are ' Family considerations often over- 
 
 a qualification only for flight.' throw public ones' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 It is remarkable that Bacon does not at all advert to the 
 notion of the superior holiness of a single life, or to the enforced 
 celibacy of the Roman-catholic clergy. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to remark much less to prove that, 
 even supposing there were some spiritual advantage in celibacy, 
 it ought to be completely voluntary from day to day, and not 
 to be enforced by a life-long vow or rule. For in this case, 
 even though a person should not repent of such a vow, no one 
 can be sure that there is not such repentance. Supposing that 
 even a large majority of priests, and monks, and nuns, have no 
 desire to marry, every one of them may not unreasonably be 
 suspected of such a desire ; and no one of them, consequently, 
 can be secure against the most odious suspicions. It has been 
 alleged, in reply to this, that the like reasoning would apply to 
 the case of the marriage contract, since no one can be sure that 
 a married couple may not repent of their union. To the most 
 rightminded persons, the answer would at once occur, that there 
 is a wide difference between any merely human institution, and 
 one that has an express divine sanction : ' what God hath joined 
 together, let not Man put asunder/ This distinction, however, 
 would not be recognised by those who put the decrees of a 
 (supposed) infallible Church on a level with Scripture. But 
 even these may perceive that the permanence of the marriage-tie 
 
 H
 
 98 Of Marriage and Single Life. [Essay viii. 
 
 is necessary for the due care of offspring for the comfort of 
 married life itself and for the morality and welfare of society. 
 And that there is no such necessity for the enforced celibacy 
 of the clergy, is proved, not only by the experience of all 
 Churches except that of Rome, but by the admission of that 
 very Church itself; since it dispenses with the rule in favour 
 of the clergy of the Eastern Churches. 
 
 No doubt there are many Roman-catholic clergymen (as 
 there are Protestant) who sincerely prefer celibacy. But, in 
 the one case we have a ground of assurance of this, which is 
 wanting in the other. No one can be sure, because no proof 
 can be given, that a vow of perpetual celibacy may not some 
 time or other be a matter of regret. But he who continues to 
 live single while continuing to have a free choice, gives a fair 
 evidence of a continued preference for that life. 1 
 
 Accordingly, many of the most intelligent of the Roman- 
 catholic laity are very desirous of having the law of celibacy 
 removed. It is not reckoned an article of the faith, but merely 
 a matter of discipline. And accordingly, those of the Greek and 
 Armenian Churches who have consented to acknowledge Romish 
 supremacy, have been allowed to retain their own practice as to 
 this matter; the Armenian Church allowing the marriage of 
 their priests, and the Greek Church requiring the parish priests 
 to be married. 
 
 When this was urged by an intelligent Roman-catholic 
 layman, to the late Archbishop Murray, he replied that but few 
 Armenian priests do avail themselves of their privilege. This, 
 answered the other, is a strong reason on my side ; for the 
 
 1 It is worth observing, by the way, that if any one should maintain that enforced 
 celibacy of the clergy is essential to such an unrestricted intercourse as is, on religious 
 grounds, desirable between the pastor and the females of his flock, and should 
 allege that a clergyman to whom marriage is permitted could not have any con- 
 fidential communication with them, for fear of exciting rumours of some matri- 
 monial designs if any one should maintain this, he would hardly be thought 
 serious. He would be answered if, indeed, he were considered worth an answer 
 that the reasonable inference is the very opposite. Any groundless rumours of a 
 tender attachment between parties who were free to marry, would be put an end 
 to by their not marrying. But if their marriage were prohibited by law, it would 
 be necessary to avoid any such intimacy as might possibly lead to the existence, or 
 to the suspicion, of that sort of attachment which would naturally lead to matri- 
 mony. But it is remarkable that many persons to whom all this is quite clear, yet 
 use, in a precisely parallel case, the very same kind of reasoning which, in this 
 case, they would deride. See Remains of Bishop Copleston, p. 42.
 
 Essay viii.] Annotations. 99 
 
 advantage which you think there is in an unmarried priesthood 
 is secured in a great majority of instances, with the very great 
 additional advantage that their celibacy is there understood to 
 be completely voluntary. 
 
 But doubtless the Romish hierarchy have been much in- 
 fluenced by the consideration which Bacon mentions, that 
 ' single men are the best servants/ It was wished to keep the 
 clergy, who are the employed servants of the Roman Church, 
 as distinct as possible from the Body of the people. 
 
 In the Greek Church, though every parish priest must be a 
 married man, the bishops never are, being always taken from 
 among the monks. The result of this is (i.) that the parish 
 priests, since they cannot rise any higher, are regarded as an 
 inferior order of men ; and, according to the testimony of all 
 travellers, are a very low set. And (2.) the bishop who has to 
 govern, through the medium of the priests, all the parishes of 
 his diocese, is necessarily a person destitute of all experience. 
 It is as if the command of a fleet were given (as is sometimes 
 doue by the Russians) to a military officer. 
 
 A parish priest in the Greek Church, if his wife dies, is per- 
 manently suspended. For none can officiate who is not 
 married ; and he is not allowed to marry again. It is thus they 
 interpret, as some Protestant divines also have done (besides 
 Doctor Primrose), the rule that he is to be 'the husband of 
 one wife/ 
 
 The rule is manifestly and confessedly of doubtful inter- 
 pretation } some understanding it of a prohibition merely of 
 polygamy ; and others, as relating merely to conjugal fidelity. 
 This last has more to be said in its favour than would appear 
 from our translation ; on account of the double meaning in 
 the original FW?/, and also of Avqp, in Greek, and Vir in 
 Latin. 
 
 It has been urged against this interpretation, that such a 
 rule would have been superfluous; but surely the same might 
 be said against the rule that the deacon should be ' no striker/ 
 and ' not given to much wine/ 
 
 H a
 
 ESSAY IX. 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 imagina- 
 tions and suggestions, and they come easily into the eye, espe- 
 cially upon the presence of the objects ; which are the points 
 that conduce to fascination, if any such thing there be. We 
 see, likewise, the Scripture calleth envy ' an evil eye ;' and the 
 astrologers call the evil influences of the stars evil aspects ; so 
 that still there seemeth to be acknowledged, in the act of envy, 
 an ejaculation l or irradiation of the eye ; nay, some have been 
 so curious 2 as to note, that the times when the stroke or per- 
 cussion 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 3 (though not unworthy to be 
 thought on in fit place), we will handle 4 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 6 wanteth the one will prey upon 
 
 1 Ejaculation. The act of throwing or darting out. ' Which brief prayers of 
 our Saviour (Matt. xxvi. 39) are probably such as we call ejaculation an elegant 
 similitude from the shooting or throwing out a dart or arrow.' South. 
 ' Its active rays ejaculated thence, 
 
 Irradiate all the wide circumference.' Blackmore. 
 
 5 Curious. Subtle ; minutely inquiring ; accurate ; precise. ' Both these senses 
 embrace their objects with a more curious discrimination.' Holden. 'Having 
 inquired of the cwiousest and most observing makers of such tools.' Boyle. 
 
 ' For curious I cannot be with you.' Shakespere. 
 Ingenious. 'To devise curious works.' Exodus xxxv. 32. 
 
 3 Cui-iosities. Niceties. ' Equalities are so weighed, that curiosity in neither 
 can make choice of cither's moiety.' Shakespere. 
 
 4 Handle. To treat ; to discuss. 
 
 ' He left nothing fitting for the purpose 
 
 Untouched or slightly handled in discourse.' Shakespere. 
 * Who. He who. ' Who talks much, must talk in vain.' Gay.
 
 Essay ix.J Of Envy. 101 
 
 the other ; and whoso 1 is out of hope to attain another's virtue, 
 will seek to come at even hand, by depressing another's fortune. 
 
 A man that is busy and inquisitive is commonly envious; 
 for to know much of other men's matters cannot be because all 
 that ado 2 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.' 3 
 
 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 them- 
 selves go back. 
 
 Deformed persons, and eunuchs, and old men, and bastards, 
 are envious ; for he that cannot possibly mend his own case, 
 will do what he can to impair another's ; except these defects 
 light upon a very brave and heroical nature, which thinketh to 
 make his natural wants part of his honour ; in that it should be 
 said, ' That an eunuch, or a lame man, did such great matters ;' 
 affecting 4 the honour of a miracle ; as it was in Narses the 
 eunuch, and Agesilaus and Tamerlane, that were lame men. 
 
 The same is the case of men who rise after calamities and 
 misfortunes : for they are as men fallen out with the times, and 
 think other men's harms a redemption of their own 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, 5 that mortally envied poets and painters, and artificers 
 in works wherein he had a vein 6 to excel. 
 
 Lastly, near kinsfolks and fellows in office, and those that 
 
 1 Whoso. Whoever. ' Whoso offereth praise glorifieth me.' Ps. 1. 23. 
 
 2 Ado. Bustle really the infinitive mood of a verb equivalent to the expres- 
 sion ' to do.' Used in the plural adoes in the old Scottish Acts of Parliament. 
 Rev. H. Cotton. 
 
 ' Let's follow, to see the end of this ado.' 
 ' Much Ado about Nothing.' Shakespere. 
 
 3 'There is none curious that is not also malevolent.' Cf. Pint, de Curios, i. 
 
 4 Affecting. See page i. 5 Spartian. Tit. Adrian. 15. 
 ' Vein. Humour ; fancy. 
 
 ' Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein.' Shakespere.
 
 Of Envy. [Essay ix. 
 
 are 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 remem- 
 brance, and incurreth 1 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, be- 
 cause, when his sacrifice was better accepted, there was nobody 
 to look on. Thus much for those that are apt to envy. 
 
 Concerning those that are more or less 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 arid libe- 
 rality 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, 
 contrary wise, 2 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 to darken it. 
 
 Persons of noble blood are less envied in their rising, for it 
 seemeth but right 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/ 3 
 
 Those that have joined with their honour great travels, cares, 
 or perils, are less subject to envy; for men think that they 
 earn their honours hardly, and pity them sometimes, and pity 
 ever healeth envy : wherefore you shall observe, that the more 
 deep and sober sort of politic persons, in their greatness, are 
 ever bemoaning themselves what a life they lead, chanting a 
 ' quanta patimur ;' 4 not that they feel it so, but only to abate 
 
 1 Incur. To press on. ' The mind of man is helped or hindered in its opera- 
 tions according to the different quality of external objects that incur into the 
 senses.' South. 
 
 3 Contrarywise. On the contrary. * ' At a bound.' 
 
 4 ' How much we suffer !'
 
 Essay ix.] Of Envy. 103 
 
 the edge of envy : but this is to be understood of business that 
 is laid upon men, and not such as they call unto themselves ; 
 for nothing increaseth envy more than an unnecessary and 
 ambitious engrossing of business and nothing doth extinguish 
 envy more than for a great person to preserve all other inferior 
 officers in their full rights and pre-eminences of their places ; 
 for, by that means, there 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 1 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 arro- 
 gancy 2 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 3 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 4 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 
 
 1 Of. By ; of purpose ; by design; intentionally. ' They do of right belong 
 to you.' Tillotson. 
 
 2 Arrogancy. Arrogance. ' Let not arrogancy come out of your mouth.' 
 I Samuel xi. 
 
 3 Derive. To divert ; to turn the course of. ' Company ahates the torrent of a 
 common odium by deriving it into many channels.' South. 
 
 4 Undertaking. 'Enterprising. 'Men of renown, that is, of undertaking and 
 adventurous natures.' Sir Walter Raleigh.
 
 IO4 Of Envy. [Essay ix. 
 
 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 within 
 bounds. 
 
 This envy, being in the Latin word ' invidia/ goeth in the 
 modern languages by the name of discontentment, of which we 
 shall speak in handling sedition. It is a disease in a State 
 like to infection ; for as infection spreadeth upon that which is 
 sound, and tainteth it, so, when envy is gotten once into a 
 State, it traduceth even the best actions thereof, and turneth 
 them into an ill odour ; and therefore there is little won by 
 intermingling of plausible 1 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 bear chiefly upon principal 
 officers or ministers, rather than upon kings and States them- 
 selves. 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 2 and con- 
 tinual; for of other affections there is occasion given but now 
 and then ; and therefore it was well said, ' Invidia festos dies 
 non agit/ 3 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 
 
 1 Plausible. Deserving to meet with applause. ' I hope they will plausibly 
 receive our attempt.' Brown. 
 
 Importune. Importunate; troublesome from frequency. 
 ' More shall thy penitent sighs his endless mercy please 
 Thau their importune suits wluch dreame that words God's wrath appease.' 
 
 Surrey. 
 1 ' Envy keeps no holidays.'
 
 Essay ix.] Annotations. 105 
 
 envious man, that soweth tares among the wheat by night ;' as 
 it always cometh to pass, that envy worketh subtilely, and in 
 the dark, and to the prejudice of good things, such as is the 
 wheat. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON ENVY. 
 
 PEG. CONTEA. 
 
 ' Invidia in rebuspublicis, tanquam ' Nemo virtuti invidiam reconcilia- 
 
 salubris ostracismus. verit prseter mortem. 
 
 ' In public affairs, envy acts the part ' Nothing can reconcile envy to virtue 
 
 of a wholesome ostracism.' but death.' 
 
 'Invidia virtutes laboribus exercet, 
 ut Juno Herculem. 
 
 ' Envy acts towards the virtues as 
 Juno did towards Hercules; she con- 
 demns them to toilsome labours.' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' There seemeth to be acknowledged, in the act of envy, an 
 ejaculation or irradiation of the eye' 
 
 There is a curious passage on this subject in a very able 
 article in the North British Review (Aug. 1857), which I will 
 take the liberty of citing. 
 
 ' We once, in Cairo, conversed on this superstition with an 
 intelligent Cairene, who described it as the great curse of his 
 country. 
 
 ' ' Does the mischievous influence of the evil eye,' we asked, 
 ' depend on the will of the person whose glance does the 
 mischief ?' 
 
 f ' Not altogether/ he answered. f An intention to harm may 
 render more virulent the poison of the glance ; but envy, or the 
 desire to appropriate a thing, or even excessive admiration, may 
 render it hurtful without the consciousness, or even against the 
 will, of the offender. It injures most the thing that it first hits. 
 Hence the bits of red cloth that are stuck about the dresses of 
 women, and about the trappings of camels and horses, and the 
 large spots of lamp black which you may see on the foreheads 
 of children. They are a sort of conductors. It is hoped that 
 they will attract the glance, and exhaust its venom/
 
 io6 Of Envy. [Essay ix. 
 
 ' ' A fine house, fine furniture, a fine camel, and a fine horse, 
 are all enjoyed with fear and trembling, lest they should excite 
 envy and bring misfortune. A butcher would be afraid to 
 expose fine meat, lest the evil eye of passers-by, who might 
 covet it, should taint it, and make it spoil, or become unwhole- 
 some/ 
 
 ' ' Children are supposed to be peculiarly the objects of desire 
 and admiration. When they are suffered to go abroad, they 
 are intentionally dirty and ill-dressed ; but generally they are 
 kept at home, without air or exercise, but safe from admiration. 
 This occasions a remarkable difference between the infant mor- 
 tality in Europe and in Egypt. In Europe it is the children of 
 the rich who live ; in Egypt, it is the children of the poor. The 
 children of the poor cannot be confined. They live in the 
 fields. As soon as you quit the city, you see in every clover 
 field a group, of which the centre is a tethered buffalo, and 
 round it are the children of its owner, with their provision of 
 bread and water, sent thither at sunrise and to remain there till 
 sunset, basking in the sun, and breathing the air from the 
 desert. The Fellah children enter their hovels only to sleep, 
 and that only in the winter. In summer, their days and nights 
 are passed in the open air; and, notwithstanding their dirt and 
 their bad food, they grow up healthy and vigorous. The children 
 of the rich, confined by the fear of the evil eye to the ' hareem/ 
 are puny creatures, of whom not a fourth part reaches adoles- 
 cence. Achmed Pasha Tahir, one of the governors of Cairo 
 under Mehemet Ali, had 380 children ; only six survived 
 him. Mehemet Ali himself had 87; only ten were living at his 
 death. 
 
 ' c I believe,' he added, ' that at the bottom of this superstition 
 is an enormous prevalence of envy among the lower Egyptians. 
 You see it in all their fictions. Half of the stories told in the 
 coffee-shops by the professional story-tellers, of which the 
 Arabian Nights are a specimen, turn on malevolence. Malevo- 
 lence, not attributed, as it would be in European fiction, to 
 sonae insult or injury inflicted by the person who is its object, 
 but to mere envy : envy of wealth, or of the other means of 
 enjoyment, honourably acquired and liberally used/ ' (Pages 
 
 JO-JI.)
 
 Essay ix.] Annotations. 107 
 
 ' Those that are advanced by degrees, are less envied than those 
 that are advanced suddenly.' 
 
 In Adam Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments, the following 
 admirable remarks are made on the envy that attends a sudden 
 rise : 
 
 1 The man who, by some sudden revolution of fortune, is 
 lifted up all at once into a condition of life greatly above what 
 he had formerly lived in, may be assured that the congratula- 
 tions of his best friends are not all of them perfectly sincere. 
 An upstart, though of the greatest merit, is generally disagree- 
 able, and a sentiment of envy commonly prevents us from 
 heartily sympathizing with his joy. If he has any judgment, 
 he is sensible of this, and instead of appearing to be elated with 
 his good fortune, he endeavours, as much as he can, to smother 
 his joy, and keep down that elevation of mind with which his 
 new circumstances naturally inspire him. He affects the same 
 plainness of dress, and the same modesty of behaviour, which 
 became him in his former station. He redoubles his attention 
 to his old friends, and endeavours more than ever to be humble, 
 assiduous, and complaisant. And this is the behaviour which 
 in his situation we must approve of; because we expect, it 
 seems, that he should have more sympathy with our envy and 
 aversion to his happiness, than we have with his happiness. 
 It is seldom that with all this he succeeds. We suspect the 
 sincerity of his humility, and he grows weary of this constraint. 
 In a little time, therefore, he generally leaves all his old friends 
 behind him, some of the meanest of them excepted, who may, 
 perhaps, condescend to become his dependents : nor does he 
 always acquire any new ones ; the pride of his new connections 
 is as much affronted at finding him their equal, as that of his 
 old ones had been by his becoming their superior : and it requires 
 the most obstinate and persevering modesty to atone for this 
 mortification to either. He generally grows weary too soon, 
 and is provoked, by the sullen and suspicious pride of the one, 
 and by the saucy contempt of the other, to treat the first with 
 neglect, and the second with petulance, till at last he grows 
 habitually insolent, and forfeits the esteem of all. If the chief 
 part of human happiness arises from the consciousness of being 
 beloved, as I believe it does, those sudden changes of fortune
 
 ic8 Of Envy. [Essay ix. 
 
 seldom contribute much to happiness. He is happiest who 
 advances more gradually to greatness ; whom the Public destines 
 to every step of his preferment long before he arrives at it ; in 
 whom, upon that account, when it comes, it can excite no ex- 
 travagant joy, and with regard to whom it cannot reasonably 
 create either any jealousy in those he overtakes, or any envy in 
 those he leaves behind/ 1 
 
 Doubtless it is nothing very uncommon for a man who has 
 been greatly elevated, to slight his former friends. But far 
 more common (as a knowledge of human nature would lead one 
 to expect) is the converse case, of the man's former friends 
 gradually drawing back from him. And yet this latter case has 
 been hardly ever noticed, while the other has been often de- 
 scribed and dwelt on. This, however, is easily accounted for. 
 Those who are themselves in low estate (who are incomparably 
 the more numerous class) are much more likely to sympathize 
 with the one of these grievances than the other. 
 
 ( Persons of eminent virtue, when they are advanced, are less 
 
 envied' 
 
 Bacon might have remarked that, in one respect a rise by 
 merit exposes a man to more envy than that by personal favour, 
 through family connection, private friendship, &c. For, in this 
 latter case, the system itself of preferring private considerations 
 to public, is chiefly blamed, but the individual thus advanced is 
 regarded much in the same way as one who is born to an 
 estate or a title. But when any one is advanced on the score 
 of desert and qualifications, the system is approved, but the 
 individual is more envied, because his advancement is felt as an 
 affront to all who think themselves or their own friends more 
 worthy. ' It is quite right to advance men of great merit ; but 
 by this rule, it is I, or my friend So-and-so that should have 
 been preferred/ When, on the other hand, a bishop or a 
 minister appoints his own son or private friend to some office, 
 every one else is left free to think ' If it had gone by merit, I 
 should have been the man/ 
 
 When any person of really eminent virtue becomes the object 
 
 1 Adam Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments, chap. v.
 
 Essay ix.] Annotations. 109 
 
 of envy, the clamour and abuse by which he is assailed, is but 
 the sign and accompaniment of his success in doing service to 
 the Public. And if he is a truly wise man, he will take no 
 more notice of it than the moon does of the howling of the 
 dogs. Her only answer to them is ' to shine on/ 
 
 ' This public envy seemeth to bear chiefly upon principal officers 
 or ministers, rather than upon kings' 
 
 This is a very just remark, and it might have suggested an 
 important argument (touched on in the Lessons on the British 
 Constitution 1 } in favour of hereditary Royalty. It is surely a 
 good thing that there should be some feeling of loyalty unalloyed 
 by envy, towards something in the Government. And this 
 feeling concentrates itself among us upon the Sovereign. But 
 in a pure Republic, the abstract idea of the State the Common- 
 wealth itself is too vague for the vulgar mind to take hold of 
 with any loyal affection. The President, and every one of the 
 public officers, has been raised from the ranks ; and the very 
 circumstance of their having been so raised on the score of 
 supposed fitness, makes them (as was observed above) the more 
 obnoxious to envy, because their elevation is felt as an affront 
 to their rivals. 
 
 An hereditary Sovereign, on the other hand, if believed to 
 possess personal merit, is regarded as a Godsend ; but he does 
 not hold his place by that tenure. 
 
 In Aristotle's Rhetoric, there is a Dissertation on Envy, 
 Emulation, and Indignation (Nemesis), well worthy of Bacon ; 
 who certainly was carried away into an undue neglect and dis- 
 paragement of Aristotle by the absurd idolatry of which he had 
 been made the object. 
 
 ' Conculcatur enim cupide nimis ante metutum.' 
 
 See Introductory Lessons on the British Constitution, lesson i.
 
 ESSAY X. OF LOVE. 
 
 THE stage is more beholding 1 to love than the life of Man ; 
 for as to the stage, love is ever matter of comedies, and 
 now and then of tragedies; but in life it doth much mischief, 
 sometimes like a syren, 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 in an open heart, but also into a 
 heart well fortified, if watch be not well kept. It is a poor 
 saying of Epicurus, e Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus/' 2 
 as if a 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 3 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 a 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 be 
 wise.' 4 Neither doth this weakness appear to others only, and 
 not to the party loved, but to the loved most of all, except the 
 
 1 Beholding. Beholden. 
 
 * ' We are a sufficiently great spectacle to each other.' 
 
 1 Braves. Decorates and exiolls. 
 
 4 ' Amare et sapere vix Deo conceditur.' Pub. Syr. Sent. 15.
 
 Essay x.] Of Love. 1 1 1 
 
 love be reciprocal; for it is a true rule, that love is ever 
 rewarded either with the reciprocal, or with an inward or secret 
 contempt ; by how much more then, 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 preferreth Helena, quitted the gifts of Juno and 
 Pallas/ for whosoever esteemeth too much of amorous affection, 
 quitteth both riches and wisdom. This passion hath its floods 
 in the 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 quarter, 1 and 
 sever it wholly from their serious affairs and actions of life ; for 
 if it check 2 once with business, it troubleth men's fortunes, and 
 maketh men that they can no ways 3 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. 4 There is in Man's nature a secret inclina- 
 tion 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 sometimes in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind; 
 friendly love perfecteth it; but wanton love corrupteth and 
 embaseth 5 it. 
 
 1 Quarter. Proper place (rarely used in the singular). 
 
 ' Swift to their several quarters hasted then 
 The cumbrous elements/ Milton' 
 
 2 Check with. To interfere with ; to clash with. ' It was not comely or fitting 
 that in prayers we should make a God or Saviour of any Saint in heaven ; neither 
 was it fitting to make them check with our Saviour.' Strype, 1535. 
 
 3 No ways. In any wise ; by no means. ' And being no ways a match for the 
 fleet, we set sail to Athens.' Swift. 
 
 4 It is remarked by Aristotle in his Politics that warlike nations are those who 
 pay the highest regard to women. And this he suggests may have given rise to 
 the fable of the love of Mars and Venus. 
 
 > Embase. Degrade. 
 
 ' Love did e.mbase him 
 Into a kitchen-drudge.' Old Ballad, I3th century.
 
 113 
 
 Of Love. [Essay x. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' The Stage is more beholding to Love than the life of Man' 
 
 If Bacon had lived in our day, he would probably have ap- 
 pealed, in confirmation of his views, to our modern use of the 
 words 'fond,' and ' doting,' which originally meant 'foolish,' 
 and are now applied to the passion of Love. 
 
 'Men ought to beware of this passion, which loseth not only 
 other things, but itself.' . . . ' Whosoever esteemeth 
 too much of amorous affection, quitteth both riches and 
 wisdom' 
 
 The following passage is extracted from an article on Miss 
 Austen's novels, in the Quarterly Review (No. 24, p. 374) 
 which was reprinted through a mistake in the Remains of 
 Sir W. Scott, though it was not written by him. 
 
 ' Bacon, in these days, would hardly have needed to urge so 
 strongly the dethronement of the God of Love. The prevailing 
 fault is not now, whatever it may have been, to sacrifice all for 
 love : 
 
 ' Venit enim magnum donandi parca juventus, 
 Nee tantum Veneris quantum studiosa culinse.' 
 
 Mischievous as is the extreme of sentimental enthusiasm, and 
 a romantic and uncalculating extravagance of passion, it is not 
 the one into which the young folks of the present day are the 
 most likely to run. Prudential calculations are not indeed to be 
 excluded in marriage : to disregard the advice of sober-minded 
 friends on an important point of conduct is an imprudence we 
 would by no means recommend; indeed, it is a species of 
 selfishness, if, in listening only to the dictates of passion, a man 
 sacrifices to its gratification the happiness of those most dear to 
 him as well as his own ; though it is not now-a-days the most 
 prevalent form of selfishness. But it is no condemnation of a 
 sentiment to say, that it becomes blameable when it interferes 
 with duty, and is uncontrolled by conscience. The desire of 
 riches, power, or distinction, the taste for ease and comfort,
 
 Essay x.] Annotations. 113 
 
 are to be condemned when they transgress these hounds ; and 
 love, if it keep within them, even though it be somewhat tinged 
 with enthusiasm, and a little at variance with what the worldly 
 call prudence, that is, regard for pecuniary advantage, may 
 afford a better moral discipline to the mind than most other 
 passions. It will not, at least, be denied, that it has often 
 proved a powerful stimulus to exertion, where others have 
 failed, and has called forth talents unknown before, even to the 
 possessor. What though the pursuit may be fruitless, and the 
 hopes visionary ? The result may be a real and substantial 
 benefit, though of another kind; the vineyard may have been 
 cultivated by digging in it for the treasure which is never to be 
 found. What though the perfections with which imagination 
 has decorated the beloved object, may, in fact, exist but in a 
 slender degree? Still they are believed in and admired as 
 real ; if not, the love is such as does not merit the name ; and 
 it is proverbially true that men become assimilated to the cha- 
 racter (that is, what they think the character) of the Being they 
 fervently adore. Thus (as in the noblest exhibitions of the 
 stage), though that which is contemplated be but a fiction, it 
 may be realized in the mind of the beholder ; and, though 
 grasping at a cloud, he may become worthy of possessing a real 
 goddess. Many a generous sentiment, and many a virtuous 
 resolution, have been called forth and matured by admiration of 
 one, who may herself, perhaps, have been incapable of either. 
 It matters not what the object is that a man aspires to be 
 worthy of, and proposes as a model of imitation, if he does but 
 believe it to be excellent. Moreover, all doubts of success (and 
 they are seldom, if ever, entirely wanting) must either produce 
 or exercise humility; and the endeavour to study another's 
 interests and inclinations, and prefer them to one's own, may 
 promote a habit of general benevolence which may outlast the 
 present occasion. Everything, in short, which tends to abstract 
 a man in any degree, or in any way, from self from self- 
 admiration and self-interest, has, so far at least, a beneficial 
 influence on character/ 
 
 The effect of mere familiar intercourse in dispelling the 
 
 vsions of a fancy-founded love, is well described by Crabbe in 
 
 one of the Tales of the Hall, the ' Natural Death of Love/ 
 
 i
 
 H4 Of Love. [Essay x. 
 
 A like effect, resulting from a wider acquaintance with the 
 world, and intercourse with superior persons, is described in a 
 still better poem (which if not by Crabbe also, is a most admi- 
 rable imitation of him in his happiest vein), entitled, ' A 
 Common Tale/ which appeared first in a Periodical called 
 The True Briton, and afterwards in a little book called the 
 Medley, 1 
 
 1 Published by Messrs, Smith, in the Strand.
 
 ESSAY XI. OF GREAT PLACE. 
 
 MEN in great place are thrice servants servants of the 
 sovereign or State, servants of fame, and servants of busi- 
 ness ; so as 1 they have no freedom, neither 2 in their persons, 
 nor 2 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 3 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.' 4 Nay, men cannot retire when 
 they would, neither will they when it were reason, 5 but are im- 
 patient of privateness, 6 even in age and sickness, which require 
 the shadow ; 7 like old townsmen, that will be still sitting at 
 their street door, though thereby they offer age to scorn. Cer- 
 tainly 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 
 
 1 As. That. See page 26. 2 Neither, nor for either, or. 
 
 3 Indignity. Meanness. 
 
 ' Fie on the pelf for which good name is sold, 
 And honour with indignity debased.' Spenser. 
 
 4 ' Since thou art no longer what thou wast, there is no reason why thou shouldst 
 wish to live.' 
 
 5 Reason. Eight ; reasonable. ' It is not reason that we should leave the word 
 of God, and serve tables.' Acts vi. 2. 
 
 8 Privateness. Privacy ; retirement. ' He drew him into the fatal circle from 
 a resolved privateness at his house, when he would well have bent his mind to a 
 retired course.' Wotton. 
 7 Shadow. Shade. 
 
 ' Here, father, talce the shadow of this tree 
 For your good host.' Shakespere. 
 
 I 2
 
 ii6 Of Great Place. [Essay xi. 
 
 mors gravis incubat, qui notus nimis omnibus, ignotus moritur 
 sibi.' 1 
 
 In place there is licence 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. 3 But power to do good is the 
 true and lawful end of aspiring ; for good thoughts, though God 
 accept 4 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 con- 
 science 5 of the same is the accomplishment of man's rest ; for if 
 a man can be a partaker of God's theatre, he shall likewise be 
 partaker of God's rest : ' Et conversus Deus, ut aspiceret opera, 
 quse fecerunt manus suse, vidit quod omnia essent bona nimis ;' G 
 and then the Sabbath. 
 
 In the discharge of thy place set before thee the best 
 examples, for imitation is a globe 7 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 them- 
 selves 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, 8 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 degene- 
 
 1 ' Death falls heavily upon him, who, too well known to all men, dies unac- 
 quainted with himself.' Senec. Thyest. xi. 401. 
 
 2 To will. To be willing , to desire. ' If any man will do his will, he shall 
 know of the doctrine, whether it be of God.' John vii. 1 7. 
 
 3 To can. To be able ; to have power. 
 
 ' Mecsenas and Agrippa who can most with Caesar.' Dryden, 
 
 4 Accept. To regard favourably. ' In every nation, he that feareth Him and 
 worketh righteousness is accepted with Him.' Acts x. 35. 
 
 5 Conscience. Consciousness. ' The reason why the simpler sort are moved 
 with authority is the conscience of their own ignorances.' Hooker. 
 
 6 ' When God turned to behold the works which his hand had made, He saw 
 that they were all very good.' Genesis i. 
 
 ^ Globe. A body. 
 
 ' Him around 
 
 A globe of fiery seraphim enclosed.' Milton. 
 8 Bravery. Sravado ; parade of defiance. 
 
 ' By Ashtaroth, thou shalt ere long lament 
 These braveries in iron.' Milton.
 
 Essay xi.] Of Great Place. 117 
 
 rated ; 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 right of thy place, but stir not questions of juris- 
 diction ; and rather assume thy right in silence, and de facto, 1 
 than voice 2 it with claims and challenges. Preserve likewise the 
 rights of inferior places, and think it more honour to direct in 
 chief than to be busy in all. Embrace and invite helps and 
 advices touching the 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 3 it. 
 A servant or a favourite, if he be inward, 4 and no other appa- 
 rent cause of esteem, is commonly thought but a by-way to 
 close corruption. For roughness, it is a needless cause of 
 discontent : severity breed eth 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 
 
 1 In fact. Beally ; virtually. 
 3 Voice. To assert ; to declare. 
 
 ' When I shall voice aloud how good 
 He is, how great should be/ Lovelace. 
 
 3 SteaL To do secretly. 
 
 ' 'Twere good to steal our marriage.' ShaTcespere. 
 
 4 Inward. Intimate. 
 
 ' Who is most inward with the nohle duke.' Shakespere. 
 'All mj inward friends abhorred me.' Job xix. 19.
 
 ii 8 Of Great Place. [Essay xi. 
 
 come but now aud then ; but if importunity or idle respects 1 
 lead a man, he shall never be without ; as Solomon saith, ' To 
 respect persons it is not good, for such a man will transgress 
 for a piece of bread/ 
 
 It is most true what 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/ z 
 saith Tacitus of Galba ; but of Vespasian he saith, ' Solus 
 imperantium, Vespasianus mutatus in melius' 3 though the one 
 was meant of sufficiency, the other of manners and affection. 4 
 It is an assured sign of a worthy and generous spirit, whom 
 honour amends for honour is, or should be, the place of virtue 
 and as in nature things move violently to their place, and 
 calmly in their place, so virtue in ambition is violent, in au- 
 thority settled aud calm. 
 
 All rising to great place is by a winding stair; and 
 if there be factions, it is good to side a man's self whilst 
 he is in the rising, and to balance himself when he is 
 placed. Use the memory of thy predecessor fairly and 
 tenderly ; for if thou dost not, it is a debt will surely 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 conversa- 
 tion and private answers to suitors; but let it rather be said, 
 ' When he sits in place, he is another man/ 
 
 ANTITHETA ON GREAT PLACE. 
 
 PBO. CONTRA. 
 
 ' Dum honores appetimus, libertatem 
 * * * * exuimus. 
 
 ' While we are seeking for great 
 place, we are stripping ourselves of 
 ^ liberty' 
 
 1 Respects. Considerations ; motives. ' Whatsoever secret respects were likely 
 to move them.' Hooker. 
 
 ' I would have doff'd all other respects.' Shakespere. 
 3 'One whom all would have considered fit for rule, if he had not ruled.' 
 
 3 ' Alone of all the emperors, Vespasian was changed for the better.' Tacit. 
 Hist. i. 9, 50. 
 
 4 Affection. Disposition ; general state of mind. 
 
 ' There grows 
 
 In my most ill composed affection, such 
 A gtanchless avarice.' Shakespere.
 
 Essay xi.] 
 
 Annotations. 
 
 "9. 
 
 PEG. 
 
 ' Honores faciunt et virtutes et vitia 
 conspicua ; itaque illas provocant, hsec 
 refrsenant. 
 
 ' Great place makes both virtues and 
 vices conspicuous ; accordingly it is an 
 incentive to the one and restrains the 
 other.' 
 
 ' Non novit quisquam, quantum in 
 virtutis cursu profecerit ; nisi honores ei 
 campum prsebeant apertum. 
 
 ' No one knows how far he has ad- 
 vanced on the road of virtue, unless 
 public office affords him a field for 
 action,' 
 
 COKTEA. 
 
 ' Honores dant fere potestatem earum 
 rerum, quas optima conditio est nolle, 
 proxima non posse. 
 
 ' The things which are placed in a 
 man's power by high office, are, for the 
 most part, such as it would be the best 
 thing to want the wish, and the next 
 best to want the power to do' 
 
 ' Honorum ascensus arduus, static 
 lubrica, regressus prjeceps. 
 
 ' The ascent to high office is steep, the 
 summit slippery, the descent precipitous.' 
 
 1 Qui in lionore sunt, vulgi opinionein 
 mutuentur oportet, ut seipsos beatos 
 putent. 
 
 ' Those who hold high office must 
 borrow the view which the vulgar take 
 of them, in order to think themselves 
 happy.' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 A work entitled The Bishop (by the late Dr. Cooke Taylor, but without his name), 
 contains ao many appropriate remarks, that I take the liberty of giving several 
 quotations from it. It consists of letters professed to be addressed to a 
 recently-appointed Bishop. 
 
 ' Power to do good is the true and lawful end of aspiring.' 
 
 1 Two classes of men occupy high station ; those whose time 
 has been spent in thinking how it conld be attained ; and those 
 who have mainly bestowed their attention on the use that should 
 be made of it when attained. Were there no world but this, 
 the conduct of the latter would justly be reckoned preposterous ; 
 they would be regarded as ' seers of visions and dreamers of 
 dreams/ When, however, they do by chance find themselves 
 preferred, they are not only well disposed but ready qualified to 
 use their advantages rightly; for the art of true obedience is 
 the best guide to the art of true command. On the contrary, 
 he who has thought only of the means by which he might climb, 
 however good his intentions, is generally somewhat abroad 
 when he has completed the ascent. He is like those whom we 
 frequently meet, that have spent the best part of their life in
 
 T20 Of Great Place. [Essay xi. 
 
 making a fortune, and then do not know what to do with it. 
 Eager to get up, they forget to determine the nature of the 
 ground on which they stand, and they consider not how it is 
 related to that which they desire to attain : when they have 
 ascended, their former station is at too great a distance to be 
 surveyed accurately, and the reciprocal influences cannot be 
 understood, because one side is removed beyond the reach of 
 observation/ (Page 329.) 
 
 ' After a time set before thee thine own example' 
 
 ' There is a strong temptation to sacrifice the consciousness 
 of individuality for the sympathy of the multitude. The peril 
 of being seduced from our proper orbit is not less great, when 
 we seek to join, than when we try to avoid others. There are 
 those who are willing to err with Plato, and there are those 
 who are unwilling to go right with Epicurus. A cause is not 
 necessarily good because some good men have favoured it, nor 
 necessarily bad because bad men have supported it; yet we all 
 know that many well-meaning men voted against the abolition 
 of the slave-trade, because it was advocated by some partisans 
 of the French Revolution. . . ' . 
 
 ' It might at first sight appear that the absurdities of party, 
 so obvious to every thinking man, would render the adoption of 
 a right course a matter of no very great difficulty ; indeed, an 
 aphorism is already provided for our guidance, which apparently 
 is as simple and easy as the rule of party itself: ' Steer clear of 
 both parties ; hold the middle course/ But simple and sound 
 as the maxim may appear, its validity will be greatly weakened 
 by a close examination. Both parties are not absolutely wrong ; 
 each is partially wrong and partially right; to keep always 
 equidistant from both is to keep away from the truths as well 
 as from the falsehoods, and to expose yourself to the chance, or 
 rather to the certainty, of being influenced by each in turn. 
 
 ' It is impossible for a man to realize the fable of Moham- 
 med's coffin, and remain for ever balanced between equipollent 
 attractions; but he may oscillate like a pendulum between the 
 two extremes. In such a case, he will yield to both parties, be 
 duped by both, and be despised by all. The truly independent 
 course is to act as if party had no existence ; to follow that 
 which is wisest and best in itself, irrespective of the side which
 
 Essay xi.] Annotations. 121 
 
 makes the loudest claim to the monopoly of goodness. No 
 doubt, such a course will often approach, or rather be ap- 
 proached by, the orbit of one party at one time, and the other 
 at another, just as each of them chances to come the nearer to 
 what is really right. Nay more, as each party does possess 
 some truth mingled with its falsehoods, it is perfectly possible 
 to be identified with one of two bigoted and opposed parties on 
 some special question, and to be similarly identified with the 
 other party on a different question 
 
 ' These coincidences may be called the Nodes of the different 
 orbits ; and when they occur, the proper movements are most 
 subject to disturbing influences. The attraction of party varies 
 inversely as the square of the distance ; when you are brought 
 near a powerful and organized mass, there is a strong tempta- 
 tion to pass over the intervening space/ (Pages 46-48.) 
 
 ' The demand on a great man's liberality is greatly increased 
 if he holds himself aloof from party; for this offence, forgiveness 
 can only be purchased by a very lavish system of disbursements ; 
 and, after all, he must be prepared to find that every shilling 
 
 bestowed by party-men is equivalent to his pound 
 
 It is not necessary to dilate on the merits of prudent economy, 
 but assuredly nowhere is such a virtue more indispensably 
 required than when demands on expenditure are regulated, not 
 by realities, but by imaginations. 
 
 ' Great as is the evil of having your expenditure of money and 
 time measured by the imagination of persons who do not trouble 
 themselves to investigate realities, the evil is fearfully aggravated 
 by the diversity of objects to which each set of imaginings refers. 
 Those who surround you seem to act literally on Swift's advice 
 to servants, each of whom is recommended to do his best in his 
 own particular department, to spend the whole of his master's 
 property. Thus it is with your money and time ; every person 
 seems to expect that both should be bestowed on his favourite 
 project to their extreme amount; and no one is disposed to take 
 into account that there are other claims and demands which 
 should not be abridged in their fair proportions. There will be 
 a combination to entrap you into a practical exemplification of 
 ' the sophism of composition;' men will say, you can afford this, 
 that, or the other expense : forgetting that all together will ruin 
 you.' (Page 84.)
 
 122 Of Great Place. [Essay xi. 
 
 ' 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' 
 
 ' To warn a public man (says the author of The Bishop) of 
 ordinary sense, against innovation, is just as idle as to warn him 
 against taking physic ; he will have recourse to neither one nor 
 the other, unless forced by necessity. The thing to be feared 
 in both cases is, that he will delay the application of alteratives 
 until the disease can only be cured by violent remedies. One 
 of the finest mills in our manufacturing districts is also one of 
 the oldest ; the machinery in it has always kept abreast with 
 the progress of modern invention, but it has never been closed 
 a single day for the purpose of renovation or repair. I asked 
 its proprietor the explanation of so remarkable a phenomenon ; 
 he gave it in one sentence, ' I am always altering, but never 
 changing.' Men sometimes deal with institutions as Sir John 
 Cutler did with his stockings; they darn them with worsted 
 until, from silken, they are changed into woollen, while the stupid 
 owners persist in asserting their continued identity. The cry 
 of ' innovation' belongs exclusively to the Duncery; but reluc- 
 tance to change is a feeling shared with them by sensible 
 people. 
 
 f Among the many fallacies of the day that pass unquestioned, 
 there is none more general nor more fallacious than that inno- 
 vation is popular ; the truth is, that a judicious innovator is 
 likely to be, at least for a time, the most unpopular man in the 
 universe ; he will be hated by those who are satisfied with old 
 evils ; he will be disliked by the timid and the lazy, who dread 
 the peril and the trouble of change ; and he will receive little 
 favour from those most conscious of the evil, because his 
 remedies will not act as a charm, and remove in an instant the 
 accumulated ills of centuries 
 
 ' Some persons are not aware of the fact, that in all men the 
 love of ease is far superior to the love of change ; in the serious 
 concerns of life, novelty is never desired for its own sake ; then, 
 habit becomes a second nature, and it is only the positive pres- 
 sure of evil that can drive us to alteration. We do find men 
 occasionally rash and insatiable in changing ; but this is only
 
 Essay xi.] Annotations. 123 
 
 from their being impatient under the sense of real evils, and in 
 error as to remedies. The violent vicissitudes of the first 
 French Revolution were not the result of a mad love of experi- 
 ments; they were produced by the national bankruptcy of 
 France, and the starving condition of the people of Paris. An 
 ignorant man suffering under painful disease will try the pre- 
 scription of every mountebank, and without waiting to see how 
 one quack medicine operates, will have recourse to another. A 
 fevered nation, like a feverish patient, turns from side to side 
 not through love of change, but because, while the disease 
 continues, any fixed posture must be painful. The physician 
 who superintends his condition knows that his restlessness and 
 impatience are symptoms of the disease : it would be well if 
 those who superintend our political and ecclesiastical state, 
 while they justly regard discontents and disturbances as evils in 
 themselves, would also look upon them as certain signs that 
 there is something wrong somewhere/ (Pages 315-318.) 
 
 ' Embrace and invite helps and advices touching the execution of 
 
 thy office.' 
 
 ' The dread of unworthy imputations of undue influence may 
 often drive a worthy man into a perilous course. The fear of 
 being deemed an imitator is scarcely less dangerous than that 
 of being supposed to be led. We frequently see those who re- 
 gard the course of a wise and good man with mingled affection 
 and veneration, influenced by his example for the worse rather 
 than for the better, by indulging their ruling passion for origin- 
 ality, and by their abhorrence of being regarded . as followers 
 and imitators. To avoid coincidences becomes the great labour 
 of their lives, and they take every opportunity of ostentatiously 
 declaring the originality and independence of their course. Nay, 
 they will not only declare their originality, but they will seek 
 to make or find opportunities of exhibiting it, though the course 
 they adopt in consequence may be contrary to their own secret 
 judgment. A man who yields to this weakness, which is far 
 more rife than the world generally believes, is the slave of any 
 one who chuses to work upon his foible. The only thing 
 requisite to make him commit any conceivable folly, is to dare 
 him to depart from his friend's counsel or example. Miss
 
 124 Of Great Place. [Essay xi. 
 
 Edgeworth, in her Juvenile Tales, has admirably illustrated the 
 consequence of yielding to such fears ; Tarlton in vain strove to 
 persuade the weak Lovett to break bounds, by appeals to his 
 courage, but when he hinted that his refusal would be attributed 
 to his dependence on the strong-minded Hardy, the poor boy 
 sprang over the wall with nervous alacrity. This dread of 
 imitation often leads to the neglect of valuable suggestions 
 which might be derived from the tactics and example of 
 adversaries. 'Fas est et ab hoste doceri/ is a maxim more 
 frequently quoted than acted on, and yet its wisdom is con- 
 firmed by every day's experience. A casual remark made long 
 ago to me by your Lordship contains the rationale of the whole 
 matter ' It is ignorance, and not knowledge, that rejects 
 instruction; it is weakness, and not strength, that refuses 
 co-operation/ (Page 77.) 
 
 * In bestowing office, and in selecting instruments, a man 
 anxious to do his duty must take into account both the kind 
 and degree of fitness in the candidates. Of the degrees of intel- 
 ligence the world is a very incompetent judge; and of the diffe- 
 rences in kind, it knows little or nothing. With the vulgar 
 everything is good, bad, or middling ; and if three persons are 
 worthy and intelligent men, you will find that the preference 
 you show to any one of them is considered to be the result of 
 mere caprice. For instance, you know that the clerical requi- 
 sites for an agricultural parish are different from those necessary 
 in a manufacturing district, and that both are dissimilar to the 
 qualifications for a chaplaincy to a collegiate institution, or for 
 a prebendal stall. Your choice will be guided by these con- 
 siderations ; but, beyond doubt, you will find very few who can 
 appreciate or even understand such motives. . . . Now, 
 this want of discriminating power and knowledge in the spec- 
 tators of your career, will by no means induce them to suspend 
 the exercise of their fallacious judgment ; on the contrary, 
 opinions will be pronounced most positively by those who are 
 most wanting in opportunity to discover, and in capacity to 
 estimate, your motives. But the erroneous judgments of others 
 must not lead you to be suspicious of your own ; the value of 
 the tree will be finally known by its fruits, it would be folly 
 to neglect its training, or to grub it up, because people ignorant 
 pf the adaptations of soil to growth, tell you that another tree
 
 Essay xi.] Annotations. 125 
 
 in the same place would be more useful or more ornamental. 
 You know both the soil and the plant the vast majority of 
 your censurers will know nothing of the one, and very little of 
 the other/ (Page 174.) 
 
 ' When thou changest thine opinion or course, profess it plainly, 
 and declare it, together with the reasons that moved thee to 
 change. 9 
 
 Considering that the course Bacon here recommends is not 
 only the most ingenuous and dignified, but also the most pru- 
 dent with a view to men's approbation, it is wonderful how 
 often this maxim is violated. Many persons will rather back 
 out of an opinion or course of conduct, by the most awkward 
 shifts, than frankly acknowledge a change of mind. They seem 
 to dread nothing so much as a suspicion of what they call 
 ' inconsistency ;' that is, owning oneself to be wiser to-day than 
 yesterday. 
 
 It has been pointed out in the Elements of Rhetoric,* that 
 there is no inconsistency (though the term is often improperly 
 so applied) in a change of opinion, provided it be frankly 
 avowed ; since this is what any sensible man, conscious of being 
 fallible, holds himself always ready for, if good reasons can be 
 shown. Indeed, any one who, while not claiming infallibility, 
 yet resolves never to alter his opinion, is, in that, manifestly 
 inconsistent. For, real inconsistency is the holding either 
 expressly or impliedly two opposite opinions at the same time ; 
 as, for instance, proclaiming the natural right of all men to 
 freedom, and yet maintaining a system of slavery; or condemn- 
 ing disingenuous conduct in one party, which, in the opposite 
 party, you vindicate ; or confessing yourself fallible, and yet 
 resolving to be immutable. 
 
 It is remarkable that a change of opinions is sometimes falsely 
 imputed to a man in high office, or otherwise influential, as a de- 
 vice of party-craft, or to cover a change in the way of treating 
 him. When somePartyhas been vainly trying to hunt down (as the 
 phrase is) by calumny and vexatious opposition, one who refuses 
 to join them, and they find that their assaults instead of prevail- 
 
 1 Part ii. chap. iii. sec. 5.
 
 126 Of Great Place. [Essay xi. 
 
 ing, rather recoil on themselves, or perhaps that he may be a 
 useful help to them in some object, the most crafty of them 
 will sometimes give out that he has changed, and is converted, 
 or in a fair way to be converted to their party: that he 
 has ' modified his views,' and is becoming (suppose) ' Conserva- 
 tive/ or ' Liberal/ or ' Orthodox/ or ' Evangelical/ &c., as the 
 case may be. Thus they escape the shame (as the vulgar ac- 
 count it) of frankly owning that they were wrong in their 
 former persecution. And, moreover, they perhaps hope actually 
 to win him to their party ; or at least, to persuade the multi- 
 tude that they have done so ; and thus enlist at least the influ- 
 ence of his name in their cause. 
 
 And here it is worth observing that any one who has been 
 brought up in a certain system, true or false (whether of reli- 
 gion, politics, or philosophy), and has never heard, or never 
 listened to, anything against it, will be not unlikely, when he 
 does come to hear objections, to change his views. Any one, 
 again, who has attentively examined the arguments on opposite 
 sides, and has thereupon made up his mind, will be much less 
 likely to change. Yet many instances do occur of such change 
 taking place. But if this does take place, if a man abandons 
 the opinion he had deliberately embraced and long held, then 
 there is little fear, or hope, of his changing for the worse, or 
 for the better. You have a fair chance of converting one who 
 has never yet heard both sides : you have much less, with one 
 who has heard both sides, and embraced the wrong : but still, 
 you have some chance even with him. But with one who has 
 deliberately embraced the right, and then abandoned it, your 
 labour will generally be quite lost. 
 
 ' A servant or a favourite, if he be inward, and no other apparent 
 cause of esteem, is commonly thought but a by-way to close 
 corruption. 3 
 
 ' If the relations you form with your subordinates, particu- 
 larly those whose position brings them into frequent and imme- 
 diate contact with you, be founded on intellectual sympathies, 
 and common views of great principles, efforts will be made to 
 sow discord between you, by representing him as the juggler, 
 and you as the puppet. In this case calumny disguises its
 
 Essay xi.] Annotations. 127 
 
 imputation by flattery, and compliments your heart at the 
 expense of your head. ' He is/ the maligners will say, ' a very 
 worthy, well-meaning man, but he sees only with A. B.'s eyes^ 
 and acts only on A. B/s suggestions ; he is a very good and 
 clever man, but he thinks by proxy/ 
 
 ' If you are a student, if you have acquired any reputation 
 for scholarship or literature, but, above all, if you have ever 
 been an author, this imputation will be circulated and credited; 
 for, one of the most bitter pieces of revenge which readers take 
 on writers, is to receive implicitly the aphorism of the block- 
 heads, that studious habits produce an inaptitude for the busi- 
 ness of active life. 
 
 1 The imputation of being led is not very pleasant, but it may 
 very safely be despised ; in the long run men will learn to judge 
 of your actions from their nature, and not from their supposed 
 origin. But the nature of this calumny deserves to be more 
 closely investigated, because there is nothing more injurious to 
 public men than the jealousy of subordinate strength which it 
 is designed to produce. The cases are, indeed, very rare, of an 
 upright, sensible man being led either by a knave or a fool ; but 
 there are countless examples of a weak man being led by a 
 weaker, or a low-principled man by a downright rogue. Now, 
 in most of these cases, it will be found that the subjugation 
 arose from trusting to the impossibility of being led by one of 
 obviously inferior strength. Cunning is the wisdom of weak- 
 ness, and those who chuse the weak for their instruments, 
 expose themselves to its arts/ (Pages 68-70.) 
 
 And here it is to be observed that it is (as Dr. Taylor hints 
 in the passage above) a common artifice of those who wish to 
 disparage some person of too high character to be assailed 
 openly, to profess great esteem and veneration for him, but to 
 lament his being ' in bad hands ;' misled by evil counsellors, 
 who make him think and do whatever they will. This is just 
 the manifesto put forth by most rebels ; who honour, forsooth, 
 their king, but rise in arms to drive away his bad advisers. 
 Now, though a little boy may be on the whole a promising child, 
 notwithstanding that he may have been seduced or bullied 
 into something wrong, by naughty seniors, a man, and one in 
 high station, if he really does allow himself to be led blindfold 
 by weak or wicked men, is evidently good-for-nothing. And such
 
 128 Of Great Place. [Essay xi. 
 
 therefore must be the opinion really entertained of a person to 
 whom this is imputed, how much soever of esteem and venera- 
 tion may be professed. 
 
 ( As for facility, it is worse than bribery.' 
 
 { It is scarcely necessary to dwell on the necessity of caution 
 in bestowing confidence ; it is the highest favour in your power 
 to confer, and deliberation enhances an act of kindness just as 
 much as it aggravates an act of malice. ' Favours which seem 
 to be dispensed upon an impulse, with an unthinking facility, 
 are received like the liberalities of a spendthrift, and men thank 
 God for them/ It is of more importance to observe that even 
 a greater degree of caution is necessary in suspending or with- 
 drawing confidence ; gross indeed should be the treachery, and 
 unquestionable the proofs, that would justify such a course. 
 The world generally will blame your original choice ; your dis- 
 carded adherent will be lowered in his own esteem, and conse- 
 quently will thus far have made a sad progress in moral 
 degradation ; and your own mind will not escape scatheless ; for 
 greater proneness to suspicion will of necessity develope itself 
 in your character. Most of all is caution required in restoring 
 confidence ; constitutional changes are wrought in every moral 
 principle during its period of suspended animation; though 
 the falling-out of lovers be proverbially the renewal of love, it 
 is questionable whether the suspended confidence of friends 
 is ever wholly effaced in its influences. Had Caesar recovered 
 from the stab which Brutus gave him, he might, with his usual 
 clemency, have pardoned the crime; but he would not have 
 been the Caesar I take him for, if he did not ever after adopt 
 the precaution of wearing armour when he was in company 
 with Brutus. The hatred of an enemy is bad enough, but no 
 earthly passion equals in its intensity the hatred of a friend/ 
 (Page 73.) 
 
 'There are people who believe that the voice of censure 
 should never be heard in an interview, and that you have no 
 right to rebuke presumption, check interference, or make men 
 conscious of their weakness. You are to affect a humility, by 
 which you tacitly confess yourself destitute of moral judgment. 
 But you must remember that, in interviews connected with your
 
 Essay xi.] Annotations. 129 
 
 official station, you appear for the most part as an adjudicator; 
 an appeal is made to you, as holding the balance of justice, and 
 also as wielder of its sword. ' A righteous humility/ says the 
 author of the Statesman, ' will teach a man never to pass a 
 sentence in a spirit of exultation : a righteous courage will 
 teach him never to withhold it from fear of being disliked. 
 Popularity is commonly obtained by a dereliction of the duties 
 of censure, under a pretext of humility/ (Page 256.) 
 
 ' There is great danger of praise from men in high place 
 being identified with promise; and compliment tortured into 
 grounds of hope, not always hope of promotion, but hope of 
 influencing promotion. Your approbation warmly expressed 
 will be deemed to have a value beyond the mere expression of your 
 opinion ; and though you expressly guard against raising expecta- 
 tions, you will nevertheless raise them. A late Chancellor, to 
 whom more books were sent and dedicated than he could possibly 
 have read if his life had been prolonged to antediluvian duration, 
 by the complimentary answers he sent to the authors, gathered 
 round him a host of expectants, and produced a mass of suffering 
 which would scarcely be credited save by those who were per- 
 sonally acquainted with it. Kindness and cordiality of manner 
 are scarcely less pleasing to the feelings than express compli- 
 ment, and they are the more safe for both parties, since they 
 afford no foundation for building up expectations ; a species of 
 architecture sufficiently notorious for the weakness of the foun- 
 dations that support an enormous superstructure/ (Page 163.) 
 
 ' Severity breedeth fear.' 
 
 ' It may be doubted whether it is politic, where a man has 
 wholly lost your esteem, and has no chance of regaining it, to 
 let him know that his doom is fixed irrevocably. The hope of 
 recovering his place in your estimation may be a serviceable 
 check on his conduct ; and if he supposes you to be merely 
 angry with him (a mistake commonly made by vulgar minds), 
 he may hope and try to pacify you by an altered course, trusting 
 that in time you will forget all. In such a case you need not 
 do or say anything deceitful ; you have only to leave him in his 
 error. On the other hand, if he finds that you have no resent- 
 ment, but that your feeling is confirmed disesteem, and that the 
 
 K
 
 130 Of Great Place. [Essay xi. 
 
 absence of all anger is the very consequence of such a feeling 
 for you cannot be angry where you do not mean to trust again 
 he may turn out a mischievous hater. 
 
 f On the whole, however, the frank, open-hearted course is 
 the more politic in the long run. If you use towards all whom 
 you really esteem, a language which in time will come to be 
 fully understood by all, from its being never used except where 
 you really esteem, then, and then only, you will deserve and 
 obtain the full reliance of the worthy. They will feel certain 
 that they possess your esteem, and that if they do anything by 
 which it may be forfeited, it will be lost for ever. To establish 
 such a belief is the best means of preserving the peace and 
 purity of your circle ; and it is worth while risking some enmity 
 to effect so desirable an object. 
 
 ' It must, however, be observed that it is equally politic and 
 christian-like to avoid breaking with anybody . While you pur- 
 chase no man's forbearance by false hopes of his regaining your 
 esteem, you must not drive him into hostility through fear of 
 your doing him a mischief. The rule of Spartan warfare is not 
 inapplicable to the conduct of a Christian statesman ; never give 
 way to an assailing enemy, never pursue a flying foe further 
 than is necessary to secure the victory. Let it be always 
 understood that it is safe to yield to you, and you will remove 
 the worst element of resistance, despair of pardon/ (Pages 
 72-76.) 
 
 ' Be not too remembering of thy place in conversation and private 
 answers to suitors' 
 
 There may, however, be an error on the opposite side. 
 1 Men are often called affable and no way proud/ (says Dr. Cooke 
 Taylor in the work already quoted,) f who really exhibit a vulgar 
 sort of pride in taking liberties, and talking to their inferiors 
 with a kind of condescending familiarity which is gratifying to 
 mean minds, but which to every person of delicacy, is the most 
 odious form of insolence. If you wish to be familiar with an 
 inferior, let him rather feel that you have raised him to your 
 own level than that you have lowered yourself to his. You 
 may see the propriety of this aphorism unfortunately manifested 
 in books written by clever men for the use of the humble
 
 Essay xi.] Annotations. 131 
 
 classes, and for children. Many of these are rejected as offen- 
 sive, because the writers deem it necessary to show that they 
 are going down to a low level of understanding ; their familiarity 
 becomes sheer vulgarity, and their affected simplicity is puzzle- 
 headed obscurity. The condescension of some great people is 
 like the 'letting down' in such authors : they render themselves 
 more ridiculous than Hercules at the court of Omphale; for 
 they assume the distaff without discarding the club and lion's 
 skin. It is also very unfair ; for those who go to admire the 
 spinning, or to be amused at its incongruity, are exposed to 
 the danger of getting an awkward knock from the club/ 
 (Page 180.) 
 
 ' 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.' 
 
 The following passage from The Bishop bears upon this en- 
 grossment in public business : ' There are two opposite errors 
 into which many public men have fallen; on the one hand, 
 allowing family concerns to intermingle with public business, 
 on the other, sacrificing to their station all the enjoyments of 
 private life. The former interference is rare ; it is so obviously 
 a source of perplexity and annoyance, that it soon works its own 
 cure; but the latter 'grows by what it feeds upon.' Unless you 
 habitually court the privacy of the domestic circle, you will find 
 that you are losing that intimate acquaintance with those who 
 compose it which is its chief charm, and the source of all its 
 advantage. In your family alone can there be that intercourse 
 of heart with heart which falls like refreshing dew on the soul 
 when it is withered and parched by the heats of business, and 
 the intense selfishness which you must hourly meet in public 
 life. Unless your affections are sheltered in that sanctuary, 
 they cannot long resist the blighting influence of a constant 
 repression of their development, and a compulsory substitution 
 of calculation in their stead. Domestic privacy is necessary, not 
 only to your happiness, but even to your efficiency; it gives the 
 rest necessary to your active powers of judgment and discrimi- 
 nation ; it keeps unclosed those well-springs of the heart whose 
 flow is necessary to float onwards the determination of the head.
 
 132 Of Great Place. [Essay xi. 
 
 It is not enough that the indulgence of these affections should 
 fill up the casual chinks of your time ; they must have their 
 allotted portion of it, with which nothing but urgent necessity 
 should be allowed to interfere. These things are the aliments 
 of his greatness ; they preserve within him that image of moral 
 beauty which constant intercourse with the public world that 
 is, the world with its worst side outwards is too likely to 
 efface. ' If our clergy had been permitted to marry/ said an 
 intelligent Romanist, ' we never should have had inquisitors.' ' 
 .(Page 327.) 
 
 ' A place showeth the man : and it showeth some to the better, 
 and some to the worse' 
 
 Bacon here quotes a Greek proverb, and a very just one. 
 Some persons of great promise, when raised to high office, either 
 are puffed up with self-sufficiency, or daunted by the ' high 
 winds that blow on high hills/ or in some way or other dis- 
 appoint expectation. And others, again, show talents and 
 courage, and other qualifications, when these are called forth 
 by high office, beyond what any one gave them credit for before, 
 and beyond what they suspected to be in themselves. It is 
 unhappily very difficult to judge how a man will conduct himself 
 in a high office, till the trial has been made. 
 
 It must not, however, be forgotten that censure and commen- 
 dation will, as in other cases, be indiscriminate. By those whose 
 nearness, or easiness of access, enables them to form an accurate 
 judgment, many a public man will be found neither so detestable 
 nor so admirable as perhaps he is thought by opposite parties. 
 This truth is well expressed in the fable of 'The Clouds/ 1 
 
 ' Two children once, at eventide, 
 Thus prattled by their parents' side : 
 ( See, mother, see that stormy cloud ! 
 What can its inky bosom shroud? 
 It looks so black, I do declare 
 I shudder quite to see it there/ 
 
 1 See Fourth Book of the Lessons for the Use of National Schools, p. 49.
 
 Essay xi.] Annotations. 133 
 
 f And father, father, now behold 
 
 Those others, all of pink and gold ! 
 
 How beautiful and bright their hue ! 
 
 I wish that I were up there too : 
 
 For, if they look so fine from here, 
 
 "What must they be when one is near !' 
 
 e Children/ the smiling sire replied, 
 
 ' I've climbed a mountain's lofty side, 
 
 "Where, lifted 'mid the clouds awhile, 
 
 Distance no longer could beguile : 
 
 And closer seen, I needs must say 
 
 That all the clouds are merely grey; 
 
 Differing in shade from one another, 
 
 But each in colour like his brother. 
 
 Those clouds you see of gold and pink, 
 
 To others look as black as ink ; 
 
 And that same cloud, so black to you, 
 
 To some may wear a golden hue. 
 
 E'en so, my children, they whom fate 
 
 Has planted in a low estate, 
 
 Viewing their rulers from afar, 
 
 Admire what prodigies they are. 
 
 O ! what a tyrant ! dreadful doom ! 
 
 His crimes have wrapped our land in gloom ! 
 
 A tyrant ! nay, a hero this, 
 
 The glorious source of all our bliss ! 
 
 But they who haunt the magic sphere, 
 
 Beholding then its inmates near, 
 
 Know that the men, by some adored, 
 
 By others flouted and abhorred, 
 
 Nor sink so low, nor rise so high, 
 
 As seems it to the vulgar eye. 
 
 The man his party deems a hero, 
 
 His foes, a Judas, or a Nero 
 
 Patriot of superhuman worth, 
 
 Or vilest wretch that cumbers earth, 
 
 Derives his bright or murky hues 
 
 From distant and from party views ; 
 
 Seen close, nor black nor gold are they, 
 
 But every one a sober grey' '
 
 134 Of Great Place. [Essay xi. 
 
 In a smaller number, but still, a considerable number, one 
 may find the opposite error to the one just noticed. For, in 
 almost all subjects, each kind of fault may be matched with 
 a contrary one, in those who ' mistake reverse of wrong for 
 right.' And as the great mass of mankind are prone to that 
 kind of exaggeration I have alluded to, so there are some whom 
 one may call levellers ; persons whom the late Mr. Canning 
 in some satirical verses ironically calls the ' candid / men who 
 maintain that (as he expresses it) f Black's not so black, nor 
 white so very white/ 
 
 They are in such dread of indiscriminate and exaggerated 
 views, that they extenuate everything, good or bad, always 
 looking out for some ground of disparagement of whatever is 
 excellent, and for something to excuse, or commend, or admire, 
 in whatever is odious or contemptible ; and bringing each per- 
 son or thing to a kind of Procrustean bed, on which they stretch 
 the short, and curtail the long. Having observed that the 
 vulgar are prone to divide all men into Angels and Fiends to 
 see no fault in those they esteem, and no good in those they dis- 
 approve, these persons cultivate a habit of viewing all small 
 faults, or small merits, through a magnifying glass, and to view 
 all that are great through a reversed telescope. They magnify 
 whatever is little, and extenuate all that is great. 
 
 This is one of what I have ventured to designate as 
 ' Secondary vulgar errors.'
 
 ESSAY XII. OF BOLDNESS. 
 
 IT is a trivial grammar-school text, but yet worthy a wise 
 man's consideration : question was asked of Demosthenes/ 
 what was the chief part of an orator ? He answered, action : 
 what next ? action : what next again ? action. He said it that 
 knew it best, and had by nature himself no advantage in that he 
 commended. A strange thing, that that part of an orator which 
 is but superficial, and rather the virtue of a player, should be 
 placed so high above those other noble parts, of invention, elo- 
 cution, 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 busi- 
 ness; what first ? boldness: what second and third? boldness. 
 And yet boldness is a child of ignorance and baseness, far infe- 
 rior 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 there 
 are mountebanks for the politic 2 Body men that undertake 
 great cures, and perhaps have been lucky in two or three ex- 
 periments, 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 a hill to him, and from the top of it offer up his 
 prayers for the observers of his law. The people assembled ; 
 Mahomet called the hill to come to him again and again; 
 and when the hill stood still, he was never a whit 3 abashed, but 
 
 1 Plut. Tit. Demosth. 17, 1 8. 2 Politic. Political ; civil. 
 
 3 Whit. The least degree ; the smallest particle. ' Not a whit behind the very 
 chiefest Apostles.' 2 Cor. xi. 5.
 
 Of Boldness. [Essay xii. 
 
 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 per- 
 fection of boldness, they will but slight it over, 1 and make a 
 turn, and no more ado. 2 
 
 Certainly, to men of great judgment, bold persons are sport to 
 behold nay, and to the vulgar also boldness hath somewhat of 
 the ridiculous : for, if absurdity be the subject of laughter, doubt 
 you not but great boldness is seldom without some absurdity. 
 Especially it is a sport to see when a bold fellow is out of 
 countenance ; for that puts his face into a most shrunken and 
 wooden posture, as needs it must for in bashfulness the spirits 
 do a little go and come but with bold men, upon like occasion, 
 they stand at a stay; 3 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 dangers and inconveniences : therefore it is ill in 
 counsel, good in execution ; so that the right 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. 
 
 . ANNOTATION. 
 
 ' Boldness is a child of ignorance and baseness, far inferior to 
 
 other parts.' 
 
 Bacon seems to have had that over-estimate of those who 
 are called the * prudent ' which is rather common. One cause 
 of the supposed superiority of wisdom often attributed to the 
 over-cautious, reserved, non-confiding, non- enterprising charac- 
 
 1 Slight over. To treat carelessly. 
 
 ' His death, and your deliverance, 
 
 Were themes that ought not to be slighted over.' Dryden. 
 - Ado. ' Much Ado about Nothing.' ShaJcespere. 
 3 Stay. Stand ; cessation of progression. 
 
 ' Never to decay 
 Until his revolution was at stay' Milton.
 
 Essay xii.] Annotation. 137 
 
 ters, as compared with the more open, free-spoken, active, and 
 daring, is the tendency to overrate the amount of what is 
 distinctly known. The bold and enterprising are likely to 
 meet with a greater number of tangible failures than the over- 
 cautious : and yet if you take a hundred average men of each 
 description, you will find that the bold have had, on the whole, 
 a more successful career. But the failures that is, the non- 
 success of the over-cautious, cannot be so distinctly traced. 
 Such a man only misses the advantages often very great 
 which boldness and free-speaking might have gained. He who 
 always goes on foot will never meet with a fall from a horse, or 
 be stopped on a journey by a restive horse ; but he who rides, 
 though exposed to these accidents, will, in the end, have accom- 
 plished more journeys than the other. He who lets his land 
 lie fallow, will have incurred no losses from bad harvests ; but 
 he will not have made so much of his land as if he had ven- 
 tured to encounter such risks. 
 
 The kind of boldness which is most to be deprecated or at 
 least as much so as the boldness of ignorance is daring, un- 
 accompanied by firmness and steadiness of endurance. Such 
 was that which Tacitus attributes to the Gauls and Britons ; 
 ' Eadem in deposceudis periculis audacia ; eadem in detrectandis, 
 ubi advenerint, formido/ 1 This character seems to belong to 
 those who have in phrenological language Hope, and Com- 
 bativeness, large, and Firmness small. 
 
 1 ' The same daring in rushing into dangers, and the same timidity in shrinking 
 from them when they come.'
 
 ESSAY XIII. OF GOODNESS, AND GOODNESS 
 OF NATURE. 
 
 I TAKE goodness in this sense, the affecting 1 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 or Man come in danger by it. The inclina- 
 tion 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, give alms to dogs and 
 birds ; insomuch as Busbechius 2 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, in goodness or charity, may be 
 committed. The Italians have of it an ungracious proverb, 
 ' Tanto buon che val niente : 53 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 who 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 4 of the errors of a habit 
 so excellent. Seek the good of other men, but be not in 
 
 1 Affecting. The being desirous of; aiming at. See page I. 
 
 2 Busbechius. A learned Fleming of the i6th century, in his Travels in the 
 East. 
 
 8 ' So good that he is good for nothing.' 
 
 4 Take knowledge of. Take cognizance of. ' They took knowledge of them, 
 that they had been with Jesus.' Acts iv. 13.
 
 Essay xiii.] Of Goodness, and Goodness of Nature. 139 
 
 bondage to their faces or fancies ; for that is but facility or 
 softness, which taketh an honest mind prisoner. Neither give 
 thou j3Ssop's cock a gem, who would be better pleased and 
 happier if he had a barley-corn. The example of God teacheth 
 the lesson truly : ' He sendeth his rain, and maketh his sun to 
 shine upon the just and the unjust; 7 but he doth not rain wealth 
 nor shine honour and virtues upon men equally : common 
 benefits are to be communicated 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 neighbours but the portraiture : 
 ' Sell all thou hast, and give it to the poor, and follow me/ but 
 sell not all thou hast, except thou come and follow me that is, 
 except thou have a vocation 1 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 right 
 reason ; but there is in some men, even in nature, a disposi- 
 tion 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 
 difficileness, 2 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 3 part not 
 so good as the dogs that licked Lazarus' sores, but like flies 
 that are still buzzing upon anything that is raw misanthropi 
 [men-haters], that make it their practice to bring men to the 
 bough, and yet never have a tree for the purpose in their 
 gardens, as Timon 4 had : such dispositions are the very errors of 
 human nature, and yet they are the fittest timber to make great 
 politics 5 of like to knee-timber, 6 that is good for ships that are 
 ordained to be tossed, but not for building houses that shall 
 stand firm. 
 
 1 Vocation. See page 23. 
 
 1 Difficileness. Difficulty to be persuaded. ' The Cardinal, finding the Pope 
 difficile in granting the dispensation.' Bacon, Henry VII. 
 
 3 Loading. Loaden; burdened. 
 
 4 See an account of Timon in Plutarch's Life of Marc Antony. 
 
 5 Politics. Politicians. See page 24. 
 
 6 Knee-timber. A timber in the shape of the knee when bent.
 
 140 Of Goodness, and Goodness of Nature. [Essay xiii. 
 
 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 compas- 
 sionate towards the affliction 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 an anathema from 
 Christ, 1 for the salvation of his brethren, it shows much of a 
 divine nature, and a kind of conformity with Christ Himself. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' Goodness admits no excess, but error.' 
 
 In the present day, we employ the term ' good-nature ' in 
 reference to the smaller manifestations of kindness, on ordinary 
 occasions. To speak of any one who devoted himself, like 
 Howard, or Wilberforce, to the promotion of some great benefit 
 to Mankind, as a good-natured man, would sound ridiculous. 
 We should call him a philanthropist. 
 
 Bacon, however, is speaking, universally, of what is now called 
 benevolence and beneficence ; and his remark is very just, that 
 it admits of no excess in quantity, though it may be misdirected 
 and erroneous. For if your liberality be such as to reduce your 
 family to poverty, or like the killing of the hen that laid the 
 golden eggs such as to put it out of your power hereafter to be 
 liberal at all ; or if it be bestowed on the undeserving ; this is 
 rather to be accounted an unwise and misdirected benevolence 
 than an excess of it in quantity. And we have here a remark- 
 able instance of the necessity of keeping the whole character and 
 
 1 Eomans ix. 3.
 
 Essay xiii.] Annotations. 141 
 
 conduct, even our most amiable propensities, under the control 
 of right principle guided by reason ; and of taking pains to un- 
 derstand the subject relating to each duty you are called on to 
 perform. For there is perhaps no one quality that can produce 
 a greater amount of mischief than may be done by thoughtless 
 good-nature. For instance, if any one, out of tenderness of 
 heart, and reluctance to punish or to discard the criminal and 
 worthless, lets loose on society, or advances to important offices, 
 mischievous characters, he will have conferred a doubtful benefit 
 on a few, and done incalculable hurt to thousands. So, also, 
 to take one of the commonest and most obvious cases, that 
 of charity to the poor, a man of great wealth, by freely 
 relieving all idle vagabonds, might go far towards ruining 
 the industry, and the morality, and the prosperity, of a whole 
 nation. ' For there can be no doubt that careless, indiscri- 
 minate alms-giving does far more harm than good ; since it 
 encourages idleness and improvidence, and also imposture. If 
 you give freely to ragged and filthy street- beggars, you are 
 in fact hiring people to dress themselves in filthy rags, and go 
 about begging with fictitious tales of distress. If, on the 
 contrary, you carefully inquire for, and relieve, honest and 
 industrious persons who have fallen into distress through un- 
 avoidable misfortune, you are not only doing good to those 
 objects, but also holding out an encouragement, generally, to 
 honest industry. 
 
 ' You may, however, meet with persons who say, ' As long 
 as it is my intention to relieve real distress, my charity is 
 equally virtuous, though the tale told me may be a false one. 
 The impostor alone is to be blamed who told it me ; I acted on 
 what he said ; and if that is untrue, the fault is his, and not 
 mine/ 
 
 ' Now this is a fair plea, if any one is deceived after making 
 careful inquiry : but if he has not taken the trouble to do this, 
 regarding it as no concern of his, you might ask him how he 
 would act and judge in a case where he is thoroughly in earnest 
 that is, where his own important interests are concerned. Sup- 
 pose he employed a^ steward or other agent, to buy for him a 
 house, or a horse, or any other article, and this agent paid an exor- 
 bitant price for what was really worth little or nothing, giving just 
 the same kind of excuse for allowing his employer to be thus
 
 142 Of Goodness, and Goodness of Nature. [Essay xiii. 
 
 cheated ; saying, ' I made no careful inquiries, but took the 
 seller's word ; and his being a liar and a cheat, is his fault, and 
 not mine;' the employer would doubtless reply, 'The seller 
 indeed is to be condemned for cheating ; but so are you, for 
 your carelessness of my interests. His being greatly in fault 
 does not clear you ; and your merely intending to do what was 
 right, is no excuse for your not taking pains to gain right in- 
 formation.' 
 
 ' Now on such a principle we ought to act in our charities : 
 regarding ourselves as stewards of all that Providence has 
 bestowed, and as bound to expend it in the best way possible, 
 and not shelter our own faulty negligence under the misconduct 
 of another/ 1 
 
 It is now generally acknowledged that relief afforded to want, 
 as mere want, tends to increase that want; while the relief 
 afforded to the sick, the infirm, and the disabled, has plainly no 
 tendency to multiply its own objects. Now it is remarkable, 
 that the Lord Jesus employed his miraculous power in healing 
 the sick, continually, but in feeding the hungry, only twice ; 
 while the power of multiplying food which He then manifested, 
 together with his directing the disciples to take care and gather up 
 the fragments that remained that nothing might be lost, served 
 to mark that the abstaining from any like procedure on other 
 occasions was deliberate design. In this, our Lord had pro- 
 bably in view (besides other objects), to afford us some instruction, 
 from his example, as to the mode of our charity. Certain it is, 
 that the reasons for this distinction are now, and ever must be, 
 the same as at that time. 
 
 Now to those engaged in that important and inexhaustible 
 subject of inquiry, the internal evidences of Christianity, it 
 will be interesting to observe here, one of the instances in which 
 the super-human wisdom of Jesus forestalled the discovery of an 
 important principle, often overlooked not only by the generality 
 of men, but by the most experienced statesmen and the ablest 
 philosophers, even in these later ages of extended human know- 
 ledge, and development of mental power. 
 
 1 See Introductory Lessons on Morals, lesson xvi. p. 139.
 
 Essay xiii.] Annotations. 143 
 
 ' It is good to take knowledge of the errors of a habit so 
 excellent.' 
 
 As there are errors in its direction, so there are mistakes 
 concerning its nature. For instance, some persons have a cer- 
 tain nervous horror at the sight of bodily pain, or death, or 
 blood, which they and others mistake for benevolence; which 
 may or may not accompany it. Phrenologists have been de- 
 rided for attributing large destructiveness (which, however, is 
 not inconsistent with large benevolence, though more promi- 
 nently remarkable when not so combined) to a person who had 
 never killed anything but a flea, or to one who could not bear 
 to crush a wasp or fly that was keeping him awake all night ; 
 as if they had meant 'the organ of killing/ And yet such a 
 person would, according to their own accounts of their own 
 system, bear out their sentence, if he was harsh in admonishing 
 or rebuking, bitter in resentment, trampling without pity on 
 the feelings and the claims of others, &c. 
 
 We should not confound physical delicacy of nerves, with 
 extreme tenderness of heart, and benevolence, and gentleness 
 of character. It is also important to guard against mistaking 
 for good-nature, what is properly good-humour a cheerful flow 
 of spirits, and easy temper not readily annoyed ; winch is com- 
 patible with great selfishness. 
 
 It is curious to observe how people who are always thinking 
 of their own pleasure or interest, will often, if possessing con- 
 siderable ability, make others give way to them, and obtain 
 everything they seek, except happiness. For, like a spoiled 
 child, who at length cries for the moon, they are always dissa- 
 tisfied. And the benevolent, who are always thinking of others, 
 and sacrificing their own personal gratifications, are usually the 
 happiest of mankind. There is this great advantage also that 
 the benevolent have over the selfish, as they grow old: the 
 latter, seeking only their own advantage, cannot escape the 
 painful feeling that any benefit they procure for themselves can 
 last but a short time; but one who has been always seeking 
 the good of others, has his interest kept up to the last, be- 
 cause he of course wishes that good may befal them after he is 
 gone.
 
 144 Of Goodness, and Goodness of Nature. [Essay xiii. 
 
 ' The Turks, a cruel people, are nevertheless kind to beasts' 
 
 In the article formerly mentioned, in the North British 
 Review (Aug. 1857), occurs a curious confirmation of Bacon's 
 remark. And I will accordingly take the liberty of extracting 
 the passage. 
 
 'The European cares nothing for brute life. He destroys 
 the lower animals without scruple, whenever it suits his con- 
 venience, his pleasure, or his caprice. He shoots his favourite 
 horse and his favourite dog, as soon as they become too old for 
 service. The Mussulman preserves the lives of the lower animals 
 solicitously. Though he considers the dog impure, and never 
 makes a friend of him, he thinks it sinful to kill him, and 
 allows the neighbourhood and even the streets of his towns to 
 be infested by packs of masterless brutes, which you would get 
 rid of in London in one day. The beggar does not venture to 
 destroy his vermin : he puts them tenderly on the ground, to 
 be swept up into the clothes of the next passer-by. There are 
 hospitals in Cairo for superannuated cats, where they are fed at 
 the public expense. 
 
 * But to human life he is utterly indifferent. He extinguishes 
 it with much less scruple than that with which you shoot a horse 
 past his worTc. Abbas, the late Viceroy, when a boy, had his 
 pastry-cook bastinadoed to death. Mehemet Ali mildly reproved 
 him for it, as you would correct a child for killing a butterfly. 
 He explained to his little grandson that such things ought not 
 to be done without a motive. ' 
 
 Bacon slightly hints at a truth most important to be kept in 
 mind, that a considerable endowment of natural benevolence is 
 not incompatible with cruelty; and that, consequently, we 
 must neither infer absence of all benevolence from such conduct 
 as would be called ferocious, or ' ill-natured/ nor again calculate, 
 from the existence of a certain amount of good-nature, on a 
 man's never doing anything cruel. 
 
 When Thurtell, the murderer, was executed, there was a 
 shout of derision raised against the phrenologists for saying that 
 his organ of benevolence was large. But they replied, that there 
 was also large destructiveness, and a moral deficiency, which 
 would account for a man goaded to rage (by having been
 
 Essay xiii\] Annotations. 145 
 
 cheated of almost all he had, by the man he killed) committing 
 that act. It is a remarkable confirmation of their view, that a 
 gentleman who visited the prison where Thurtell was confined 
 (shortly after the execution) found the jailors, &c., full of pity 
 and affection for him. They said he was a kind, good-hearted 
 fellow, so obliging and friendly, that they had never had a pri- 
 soner whom they so much regretted. And such seems to have 
 been his general character, when not influenced at once by the 
 desire of revenge and of gain. 
 
 Again, there shall be, perhaps, a man of considerable benevo- 
 lence, but so fond of a joke that he will not be restrained by any 
 tenderness for the feelings of others 
 
 ' Dum inodo risum 
 Excutiat sibi, non hie cuiquam parcit amico.' l 
 
 And he may be, perhaps, also so sensitive himself as to be 
 enraged at any censure or ridicule directed against himself; and 
 also so envious as to be very spiteful against those whom he 
 finds in any way advanced beyond him. Yet this same man 
 may, perhaps, be very kind to his friends and his poor neigh- 
 bours, as long as they are not rivals, and do not at all affront 
 him, nor afford any food for his insatiable love of ridicule. 
 
 A benevolent disposition is, no doubt, a great help towards a 
 course of uniform practical benevolence ; but let no one trust to 
 it, when there are other strong propensities, and no firm good 
 principle. 
 
 1 ' So he can but have his joke, he will spare no friend.'
 
 ESSAY XIV. OF NOBILITY. 
 
 WE will speak of nobility first as a portion of an estate, 1 
 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 sove- 
 reignty, and draws the eyes of the people somewhat aside from 
 the line royal : but for democracies, they need it not, arid 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 ; forutility is their bond, and not 
 respects. 3 The United Provinces of the Low Countries in their 
 government excel ; for where there is an equality, the consulta- 
 tions are more indifferent, 4 and the payments and tributes more 
 cheerful. A great and potent nobility addeth majesty to a 
 monarch, but dimiuisheth 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 5 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 honour and means. 
 
 As for nobility in particular persons, it is a reverend thing 
 to see an ancient castle or building not in decay, or to see a 
 fair timber tree sound and perfect ; how much more to behold 
 an ancient noble family, which hath stood against the waves 
 
 1 Estate. State ; a political body ; a commonwealth. 
 
 ' The estate is green and yet ungoverned.' ShaJcespere. 
 
 5 Stirps. Race ; family. ' Sundry nations got footing on that land, of the 
 which there yet remain divers great families and stirps.' Spenser. 
 
 3 Respects. Personal considerations. See page n 8. 
 * Indifferent. Impartial. See page 83. 
 
 6 Insolency. Insolence. ' The insolencies of traitors, and the violences of rebels.' 
 Bishop Taylor.
 
 Essay xiv.] Of Nobility. 147 
 
 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 1 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 indus- 
 trious, envieth him that is : besides, noble persons cannot go 
 much higher; and he that standeth at a stay 2 when others 
 rise, can hardly avoid motions 3 of envy. On the other side, 
 nobility extinguisheth the passive envy from others towards 
 them, because they are in possession of honour. 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. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON NOBILITY. 
 PEG. CONTBA. 
 
 ' Raro ex virtute nobilitas : rarius ex 
 ' Nobilitas laurea,qua tempus homines nobilitate virtus. 
 
 coronat. ' Nobility has seldom sprung from 
 
 ' High birth is the wreath with which virtue : virtue still more rarely from 
 
 men are crowned by time.' 
 
 ' Antiquitatem etiam in mortals mo- ' Nobiles, majorum deprecatione, ad 
 
 numentis venerainur: quanto rnagis in veniam, ssepius utuntur, quam suffra- 
 vivis ? gatione, ad honores. 
 
 ' We reverence antiquity even in life- ' Persons of high birth oftener resort 
 
 less monuments ; how much more in liv- to their ancestors as a plea for escaping 
 ing ones ?' punishment than as a recommendation 
 
 to high posts.' 
 
 ' Nobilitas virtutem invidiae subducit, 
 
 gratise tradit. ' Tanta solet esse industria hominum 
 
 ' Nobility withdraws virtue from envy, novorum, ut nobiles prae illis tanquam 
 and commends it to favour S statuse videantur. 
 
 ' Such is the activity of upstarts that 
 men of high birth seem statues in com- 
 parison.' 
 
 'Nobiles in stadio respectant nimis 
 saepe ; quod mali cursoris est. 
 
 ' In running their race, men of birth 
 look back too often ; which is the mark 
 of a bad runner.' 
 
 1 Reason. Seasonable; right. Seepage 115. 
 
 2 Stay. Check; cessation of progress. Seepage 136. 
 
 1 Motions. Internal action ; feelings ; impulses. ' The motions of sin, which 
 were by the law.' Somans vii. 5. 
 
 L 2
 
 148 Of Nobility. [Essay xiv. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' We will speak of nobility first as a portion of an estate.' 
 
 In reference to nobility as an institution, it is important to 
 remark how great a difference it makes whether the Order of 
 Nobles shall include as in Germany and most other countries 
 all the descendants of noble families, or, as in ours, only the 
 eldest; the rest sinking down into commoners. The former 
 system is very bad, dividing society into distinct castes, almost 
 like those of the Hindus. Our system, through the numerous 
 younger branches of noble families, shades off, as it were, the 
 distinction between noble and not-noble, and keeps up the con- 
 tinuity of the whole frame. 
 
 ' As for nobility in particular persons.' 
 
 In reference to nobility in individuals, nothing was ever 
 better said than by Bishop Warburton as is reported in the 
 House of Lords, on the occasion of some angry dispute which 
 had arisen between a peer of noble family and one of a new 
 creation. He said that, ' high birth was a thing which he never 
 knew any one disparage, except those who had it not ; and he 
 never knew any one make a boast of it who had anything else 
 to be proud of/ This is worthy of a place among Bacon's 'Pros 
 and Cons,' though standing half-way between the two : ' Nobili- 
 tatem nemo contemnit, nisi cui abest ; nemo jactitat, nisi cui 
 nihil aliud est quo glorietur/ 
 
 It is curious to observe, however, that a man of high family 
 will often look down on an upstart who is exactly such a person 
 in point of merit and achievements as the very founder of his own 
 family ; the one from whom his nobility is derived : as if it 
 were more creditable to be the remote descendant of an eminent 
 man, than to be that very man oneself. 
 
 It is also a remarkable circumstance that noble birth is re- 
 garded very much according to the etymology of the word, from 
 ' nosco :' for, a man's descent from any one who was much 
 known, is much more thought of than the moral worth of his
 
 Essay xiv.] Annotations. 149 
 
 ancestors. And it is curious that a person of so exceptionable 
 a character that no one would like to have had him for a father, 
 may confer a kind of dignity on his great-great-great-grand- 
 children. An instance has been known of persons, who were 
 the descendants of a celebrated and prominent character in the 
 Civil War, and who was one of the Regicides, being themselves 
 zealous royalists, and professing to be ashamed of their ancestor. 
 And it is likely that if he were now living, they would renounce 
 all intercourse with him. Yet it may be doubted whether they 
 would not feel mortified if any one should prove to them that 
 they had been under a mistake, and that they were in reality 
 descended from another person, a respectable but obscure indi- 
 vidual, not at all akin to the celebrated regicide. 
 
 It was a remark by a celebrated man, himself a gentleman 
 born, but with nothing of nobility, that the difference between 
 a man with a long line of noble ancestors, and an upstart, is 
 that ' the one knows for certain, what the other only conjectures 
 as highly probable, that several of his forefathers deserved 
 hanging/ Yet it is certain, though strange, that, generally 
 speaking, the supposed upstart would rather have this very 
 thing a certainty provided there were some great and cele- 
 brated exploit in question than left to conjecture. If he were 
 to discover that he could trace up his descent distinctly to a 
 man who had deserved hanging, for robbing not a traveller of 
 his purse, but a king of his empire, or a neighbouring State of 
 a province, he would be likely to make no secret of it, and 
 even to be better pleased, inwardly, than if he had made out a 
 long line of ancestors who had been very honest farmers. 
 
 The happiest lot for a man, as far as birth is concerned, is 
 that it should be such as to give him but little occasion ever to 
 think much about it; which will be the case, if it be neither too 
 high nor too low for his existing situation. Those who have 
 sunk much below, or risen much above, what suits their birth, 
 are apt to be uneasy, and consequently touchy. The one feels 
 ashamed of His situation ; the other, of his ancestors and other 
 relatives. A nobleman's or gentleman's son, or grandson, feels 
 degraded by waiting at table, or behind a counter; and a 
 member of a liberal profession is apt to be ashamed of his 
 father's having done so ; and both are apt to take offence readily,
 
 150 Of Nobility. [Essay xiv. 
 
 unless they are of a truly magnanimous character. It was 
 remarked by a celebrated person, a man of a gentleman's family, 
 and himself a gentleman by station, ' I have often thought that 
 if I had risen like A. B., from the very lowest of the people, 
 by my own honourable exertions, I should have rather felt 
 proud of so great a feat, than, like him, sore and touchy ; but I 
 suppose I must be mistaken ; for I observe that the far greater 
 part of those who are so circumstanced, have just the opposite 
 feeling/ 
 
 Those, however, of true inward nobility of character are 
 ashamed of nothing but base conduct, and are not ready to 
 take offence at supposed affronts; because they keep clear 
 of whatever deserves contempt, and consider what is undeserved 
 as beneath their notice.
 
 ESSAY XV. OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES. 
 
 QHEPHEBDS of people had need know the calendars of 
 i i 
 
 tempests in State ; which are commonly greatest when things 
 
 grow to equality, as natural tempests about the equinoctia ; J and 
 as there are certain hollow blasts of wind and secret swellings 
 of seas before a tempest, so are there in States : 
 
 ' Ille etiam csecos instare tumultus 
 Ssepe monet, fraudesque et operta tumescere 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 em- 
 braced, 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.' 3 
 
 As if fames 4 were the relics of seditions past ; but they are no 
 less indeed the preludes of seditions to come. Howsoever, he 
 noted it right, that seditious tumults and seditious fames differ 
 no more but as brother and sister, masculine and feminine 
 especially if it come to that, that the best actions of a State, 
 and the most plausible, 5 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." 5 Neither doth it follow, 
 that because these fames are a sign of troubles, that the sup- 
 pressing of them with too much severity should be a remedy 
 
 1 Equinoctia. Equinoxes. 
 
 2 ' He often warns of dark fast-coming tumults, hidden fraud, and open warfare, 
 swelling proud.' Virgil, Georg. i. 465. 
 
 3 Virg. En. iv. 179. 
 
 ' Enraged against the Gods, revengeful Earth 
 Produced her, last of the Titanian birth.' Dryden. 
 
 4 Fames. Reports ; rumours. ' The fame thereof was heard in Pharaoh's house, 
 saying, Joseph's brethren are come.' Genesis xlv. 16. 
 
 "Plausible. Laudable; deserving of applause. See page 104. 
 6 ' Great envy being excited, they condemn acts, whether good or bad.' (Quoted 
 probably from memory.) Tac. Hist. i. 7.
 
 Of Seditions and Troubles. [Essay XT. 
 
 of troubles; 1 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 inaperantium interpretari, quam 
 exequi; 52 disputing, excusing, cavilling upon mandates and 
 directions, is a kind of shaking off the yoke, and assay 3 of dis- 
 obedience : 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 4 parents, make themselves as a party, and lean to a 
 side, that is, as a boat that is overthrown by uneven weight on 
 the one side as was well seen in the time of Henry III. 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 govern- 
 ment is lost; for the motions of the greatest persons in a 
 government ought to be as the motions of the planets under 
 primum mobile 5 (according to the old opinion), which is, that 
 every of them 6 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 ex- 
 presseth it well, 'Liberius quam ut imperantium meminissent ' 7 
 
 1 There is a law in our Statute Book against ' Slanderous Reports and Tales to 
 cause Discord between King and People.' Anno 5 Edward I., Westminster 
 Primer, c. .\.\\i. 
 
 ! ' They were in attendance on their duties, yet preferred putting their own con- 
 struction on the commands of their rulers to executing them.' Tacit. Hist. i. 39. 
 
 3 Assay. The first attempt, or taste, ly way of trial. 
 
 ' For well he weened that so glorious bait 
 Would tempt his guest to make thereof assay.' Spenser. 
 
 4 Common. Serving for all. ' The Book of Common Prayer.' 
 
 ' Primum mobile, in the astronomical language of Bacon's time, meant a body 
 drawing all others into its own sphere. 
 
 6 Every of them. Each of them ; every one of them. ' And it came to pass in 
 every of them' Apocrypha, 2 Esdras iii. 10. 
 
 7 ' More freely than is consistent with remembering the rulers.'
 
 Essay xv.] Of Seditions and Troubles. 153 
 
 it is a sign the orbs are out of frame ; for reverence is that 
 wherewith princes are girt from God, who threateneth the dis- 
 solving 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, neverthe- 
 less, more light might 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 fcenus, 
 Hinc concussa fides, et multis utile bellum.' 2 
 
 This same l multis utile bellum/ is an assured and infallible 
 sign of a State disposed to seditions and troubles ; and if this 
 poverty and broken estate 3 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 humours 
 in the natural, which are apt to gather a preternatural heat, and 
 to inflame ; and let no prince measure the danger of them by 
 this, whether they be just or unjust for that were to imagine 
 people to be too reasonable, who do often spurn at their own 
 good, nor yet by this, whether the griefs 4 whereupon they rise 
 be in fact great or small ; for they are the most dangerous 
 discontentments, where the fear is greater than the feeling : 
 
 1 ' I will loose the bond of kings.' Job xii. t8. 
 
 2 ' Hence usury voracious, and eager for the time of interest ; hence broken faith, 
 and war become useful to many.' Lucan, Phars. i. 181. 
 
 3 Estate. Condition ; circumstances. ' All who are any ways afflicted or dis- 
 tressed in mind, body, or estate' English Liturgy (' Prayer for all Conditions of 
 Men'). 
 
 4 Griefs. Grievances. 
 
 ' The king has sent to know the nature of your griefs.' Shakespere.
 
 1 54 Of Seditions and Troubles. [Essay xv. 
 
 ' Dolendi modus, timendi non item' 1 besides, in great oppres- 
 sions, the same things that provoke the patience do withal 
 mate 2 the courage ; but in fears it is not so neither let any 
 prince, or State, be secure concerning discontentments, because 
 they have been often, or have been long, and yet no peril hath 
 ensued for as it is true that every vapour or fume 3 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, innovations in reli- 
 gion, taxes, alteration of laws and customs, breaking of privi- 
 leges, general oppression, advancement of unworthy persons, 
 strangers, dearths, disbanded soldiers, factions grown desperate ; 
 and whatsoever in offending people joineth arid 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 speak, 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 ven- 
 dible ; 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 low and gather more : 
 therefore the multiplying of nobility, and other degrees 
 of quality, 5 in an over-proportion to the common people, doth 
 
 ' There is a limit to the suffering, but none to the apprehension.' 
 * Mate. To subdue ; to quell. See page 1 6. 
 
 3 Fume. An exhalation. 
 
 ' That memory, the warden of the brain, shall be &fume.' SkaJcespere. 
 
 4 Estate. State. See page 146. 
 
 5 Quality. Persons of superior rank. * I will appear at the masquerade dressed
 
 Essay xv.] Of Seditions and Troubles. 155 
 
 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 in- 
 crease 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 car- 
 riage : so that, if these three wheels go, wealth will flow as in 
 a spring tide. And it cometh many times to pass, that ' mate- 
 riam superabit opus' that ' the work and carriage is worth 
 more 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 treasures 
 and monies 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 the least, keeping a strait 
 hand upon the devouring trades of usury, engrossing 1 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 nobles 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 
 
 in my feather, that the quality may see how pretty they will look in their travel- 
 ling habits.' Addison. 
 
 The common people still speak of the upper classes as ' the quality.' It is to be 
 observed that almost all our titles of respect are terms denoting qualities, ' Her 
 Majesty,' ' his Highness,' ' his Excellency/ ' his Grace,' ' the Most Noble,' ' the 
 Honourable,' ' his Honour,' ' his Worship.' 
 
 1 Engrossing. Forestalling. ' Engrossing was also described to be the getting 
 into one's possession, or buying up large quantities of any kind of victuals, with 
 intent to sell them again.' Blackstone. 
 
 ' What should ye do, then, should ye suppress all this flowery crop of knowledge, 
 and new light sprung up ? Should ye set an oligarchy of twenty engrossers over 
 it, to bring a famine upon our minds ?' Milton, 
 
 2 Discontent. Discontented.
 
 Of Seditions and Troubles. [Essay xv. 
 
 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 1 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 2 ), is 
 a safe way ; for he that turneth the humours back, and maketh 
 the wound bleed inwards, endangereth malign ulcers and per- 
 nicious imposthumations. 
 
 The part of Epimetheus might well become Prometheus, in 
 the case of discontentments ; for there is not a better provision 
 against them. Epimetheus, when griefs and evils flew abroad, 
 at last shut the lid, and kept hope in the 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 3 that which they believe not. 
 
 Also the foresight and prevention, that there be no likely or 
 fit head whereupon 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 dis- 
 contented 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 com- 
 binations that are adverse to the State, and setting them at 
 
 1 Horn. U. i. 398. 2 Bravery. Exultation. 
 
 3 Brave. To boast of.
 
 Essay xv.] Of Seditions and Troubles. 157 
 
 distance, 1 or, at least, distrust among themselves, is not one of 
 the worst remedies ; for it is a desperate case, if those that hold 
 with the proceeding of the State be full of discord and faction, 
 and those that are against it be entire and united. 
 
 I have noted, that some witty and sharp speeches, which 
 have fallen from princes, have given fire to seditions. Csesar 
 did himself infinite hurt in that speech, ' Sylla nescivit literas, 
 non potuit dictare ;' 2 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 ;' 3 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;' 4 a 
 speech of great despair for the soldiers; and many the like. 
 Surely princes had need, in tender matter and ticklish times, to 
 beware what they say, especially in these short speeches, which 
 fly abroad like darts, and are thought to be shot out of their 
 secret intentions ; for, as for large discourses, they are flat things, 
 and not so much noted. 
 
 Lastly, let princes, against all events, not be without some 
 great person, one or rather more, of military valour, 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 trouble 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 ;' 5 but let such military per- 
 sons be assured 6 and well reputed of, rather than factious and 
 
 1 Distance. Enmity. 
 
 ' Banquo was your enemy, 
 So is he mine ; and in such bloody distance, 
 That every minute of his being thrusts 
 Against my near'st of life.' Shakespere. 
 
 2 ' Sylla was ignorant of letters, and could not dictate.' (This pun is attributed 
 to Csesar by Suetonius. Vit. C. Jul. Cas. 77, i.) 
 
 3 ' He levied soldiers, and did not buy them.' Tac. Hist . i. 5. 
 
 4 ' If I live, the Roman Empire will need no more soldiers.' Flav. Ves. Vit. 
 Prob. 20. 
 
 5 ' And such was the state of their minds, that the worst villany a few dared, 
 more approved of it, and all tolerated it.' Hist. i. 28. 
 
 6 Assured. Not to be doubted ; trustworthy. ' It is an assured experience, 
 that flint laid at the root of a tree will make it prosper.' Bacon's Natural
 
 158 Of Seditions and Troubles. [Essay xv. 
 
 popular holding also good correspondence with the other 
 
 great men in the State ; or else the remedy is worse than the 
 disease. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' Neither let any prince or State be secure concerning discontent- 
 ments, because they have been often, or have been long, and 
 yet no peril hath ensued. . . .' 
 
 Men underrate the danger of any evil that has been escaped. 
 An evil is not necessarily unreal, because it has been often 
 feared without just cause. The wolf does sometimes enter in, 
 and make havoc of the flock, though there have been many false 
 alarms. The consequence of feeling too secure, and not being 
 prepared, may be most disastrous when the emergency does 
 arise. And the existence of a power to meet the emergency is 
 not the less important because the occasions for the exercise of 
 it may be very few. If any one should be so wearied with the 
 monotonous 'All's well' of the nightly guardians of a camp, 
 hour after hour, and night after night, as to conclude that their 
 service was superfluous, and, accordingly, to dismiss them, much 
 real danger, and much unnecessary apprehension, would be 
 the result. 
 
 ' Let no prince measure the danger of discontentments by this 
 
 whether the griefs whereupon they rise be great or 
 
 small ' 
 
 The importance of this caution with regard to ' small griefs' 
 will not be denied by any one who has observed the odd 
 limitations of power in those who seem despotic, and yet cannot 
 do what seem little things. E.g., when the Romans took posses- 
 sion of Egypt, the people submitted, without the least resistance, 
 to have their lives and property at the mercy of a foreign 
 nation : but one of the Roman soldiers happening to kill a cat 
 in the streets of Alexandria, they rose on him and tore him 
 limb from limb ; and the excitement was so violent, that the
 
 Essay xv.] Annotations. 159 
 
 generals overlooked the outrage for fear of insurrection ! 
 Claudius Caesar tried to introduce a letter which was wanting 
 in the Roman Alphabet the consonant V as distinct from U, 
 they having but one character for both. He ordered that ^ 
 (an F reversed) should be that character. It appears on some 
 inscriptions in his time ; but he could not establish it, though 
 he could KILL or plunder his subjects at pleasure. So cau the 
 Emperor of Russia ; but he cannot change the style. It would 
 displace the days of saints whom his people worship ; and it 
 would produce a formidable insurrection ! Other instances of 
 this strange kind of anomaly might doubtless be produced. 
 
 ' The causes and motives of seditions are ' 
 
 Amongst the causes of sedition Bacon has not noticed what 
 is, perhaps, the source of the most dangerous kinds of sedition, 
 the keeping of a certain portion of the population in a state of 
 helotism, as subjects without being citizens, or only imper- 
 fectly and partially citizens. For, men will better submit to an 
 undistinguishing despotism that bears down all classes alike, 
 than to an invidious distinction drawn between privileged and 
 subject classes. 
 
 On this point I will take the liberty of citing a passage from 
 a former work : 
 
 ' The exclusion from the rights of citizenship of all except a 
 certain favoured class which was the system of the Grecian 
 and other ancient republics has been vindicated by their ex- 
 ample, and recommended for general adoption, by some writers, 
 who have proposed to make sameness of religion correspond, in 
 modern States, to the sameness of race among the ancients, to 
 substitute for their hereditary citizenship the profession of 
 Christianity in one and the same National Church. 
 
 ' But attentive and candid reflection will show that this 
 would be the worst possible imitation of one of the worst of the 
 Pagan institutions ; that it would be not only still more unwise 
 than the unwise example proposed, but also even more opposite 
 to the spirit of the Christian religion than to the maxims of 
 sound policu. 
 
 ' Of the system itself, under various modifications, and of its 
 effects, under a variety of circumstances, we find abundant re-
 
 160 Of Seditions and Troubles. [Essay xv. 
 
 cords throughout a large portion of history, ancient and modern; 
 from that of the Israelites when sojourners in Egypt, down to 
 that of the Turkish Empire and its Greek and other Christian 
 subjects. And in those celebrated ancient republics of which 
 we have such copious accounts in the classic writers, it is well 
 known that a man's being born of free parents within the 
 territory of a certain State, had nothing to do with conferring 
 civil rights ; while his contributing towards the expenses of its 
 government, was rather considered as the badge of an alien, 1 
 the imposing of a tax on the citizens being mentioned by Cicero 2 
 as something calamitous and disgraceful, and not to be thought 
 of but in some extraordinary emergency. 
 
 ' Nor were the proportionate numbers at all taken into ac- 
 count. In Attica, the metceci or sojourners appear to have 
 constituted about a third of the free population ; but the Helots 
 in Lacedaemon, and the subjects of the Carthaginian and Roman 
 Republics, outnumbered the citizens, in the proportion probably 
 of five, and sometimes of ten or twenty to one. Nor again 
 were alien families considered as such in reference to a more 
 recent settlement in the territory; on the contrary, they were 
 often the ancient occupiers of the soil, who had been subdued 
 by another race; as the Siculi (from whom Sicily derived its 
 Dame), by the Siceliots or Greek colonists. 
 
 ' The system in question has been explained and justified, on 
 the ground that distinctions of Race implied important religious 
 and moral differences ; such that the admixture of men thus 
 differing in the main points of human life, would have tended, 
 unless one Race had a complete ascendancy, to confuse all no- 
 tions of right and wrong. And the principle, accordingly, of 
 the ancient republics, which has been thence commended as 
 wise and good has been represented as that of making agree- 
 ment in religion and morals the test of citizenship. 
 
 ' That this however was not, at least in many instances, even 
 the professed principle, is undeniable. The Lacedaemonians 
 reduced to helotism the Messenians, who were of Doric race, 
 like themselves ; while it appears from the best authorities, that 
 the kings of those very Lacedaemonians were of a different race 
 from the people, being not of Dorian, but of Achaian extrac- 
 
 1 Matt. xvii. 25. 2 De Off. b. 1 1, ch. xxi.
 
 Essay xv.] Annotations. 161 
 
 tion. 1 There could not have been therefore, at least universally, 
 any such total incompatibility between the moral institutions and 
 principles of the different races. The vindication, therefore, of 
 the system utterly fails, even on the very grounds assumed by 
 its advocates. 
 
 ' If, however, in any instance such an incompatibility did 
 exist, or (what is far more probable) such a mutual dislike and 
 jealousy, originating in a narrow spirit of clanship as to render 
 apparently hopeless the complete amalgamation of two tribes as 
 fellow-citizens on equal terms, the wisest the only wise course 
 would have been an entire separation. Whether the one tribe 
 migrated in a mass to settle elsewhere, or the territory were 
 divided between the two, so as to form distinct independent 
 States, in either mode, it would have been better for both 
 parties, than that one should remain tributary subjects of the 
 other. Even the expulsion of the Moors and Jews from Spain, 
 was not, I am convinced, so great an evil, as it would have been 
 to retain them as a degraded and tributary class ; like the Greek 
 subjects of the Turkish empire. 
 
 1 For, if there be any one truth which the deductions of 
 reason alone, independent of history, would lead us to anticipate, 
 and which again history alone would establish independently 
 of antecedent reasoning, it is this : that a whole class of men 
 placed permanently under the ascendancy of another as subjects, 
 without the rights of citizens, must be a source, at the best, of 
 weakness, and generally of danger, to the State. They cannot 
 well be expected, and have rarely been found, to evince 
 much hearty patriotic feeling towards a community in which 
 their neighbours look down on them as an inferior and per- 
 manently degraded species. While kept in brutish ignorance, 
 poverty, and weakness, they are likely to feel like the ass in 
 the fable indifferent whose panniers they bear. If they 
 increase in power, wealth, and mental development, they are 
 likely to be ever on the watch for an opportunity of shaking off 
 a degrading yoke. Even a complete general despotism, weigh- 
 ing down all classes without exception, is, in general, far more 
 
 1 It is very remarkable that this fact has been adverted to, and prominently set 
 forth by an author who, in the very same work, maintains the impossibility of 
 different Races being amalgamated together in the same community. He appears 
 to have quite forgotten that he had completely disproved his own theory.
 
 1 62 Of Seditions and Troubles. [Essay xv. 
 
 readily borne, than invidious distinctions drawn between a 
 favoured and a depressed race of subjects ; for men feel an 
 insult more than a mischief done to them ; ' and feel no insult 
 so much as one daily and hourly inflicted by their immediate 
 neighbours. A Persian subject of the Great King had probably 
 no greater share of civil rights than a Helot ; but he was likely to 
 be less galled by his depression, from being surrounded by those 
 who, though some of them possessed power and dignity, as com- 
 pared with himself, yet were equally destitute of civil rights, and 
 abject slaves, in common with him, of the one gieat despot. 
 
 ' It is notorious, accordingly, how much Sparta was weakened 
 and endangered by the Helots, always ready to avail themselves 
 of any public disaster as an occasion for revolt. The frightful 
 expedient was resorted to of thinning their numbers from time 
 to time by an organized system of massacre ; yet, though a 
 great part of the territory held by Lacedsemon was left a desert, 2 
 security could not be purchased, even at this price. 
 
 ' We find Hannibal, again, maintaining himself for sixteen 
 years in Italy against the Romans; and though scantily sup- 
 plied from Carthage, recruiting his ranks, and maintaining his 
 positions, by the aid of subjects of the Romans. Indeed, almost 
 every page of history teaches the same lesson, and proclaims in 
 every different form, ' How long shall these men be a snare 
 unto us ? Let the people go, that they may serve their God : 
 knowest thou not yet that Egypt is destroyed ?' 3 ' The remnant 
 of these nations which thou shalt not drive out, shall be pricks 
 in thine eyes, and thorns in thy side/ 4 
 
 ' But beside the other causes which have always operated 
 to perpetuate, in spite of experience, so impolitic a system, the 
 difficulty of changing it, when once established, is one of the 
 greatest. The false step is one which it is peculiarly difficult 
 to retrace. Men long debarred from civil rights, almost 
 always become ill-fitted to enjoy them. The brutalizing effects 
 of oppression, which cannot immediately be done away by its 
 removal, at once furnish a pretext for justifying it, and make 
 relief hazardous. Kind and liberal treatment, if very cautiously 
 
 1 ' AS IKOII pivot, oc loiKfv, oi dvQpuiroi ftaXXov t>pyi'(ovrat, / Bia&uivot.- 
 Thucyd. b. i. 77. 
 
 8 Thucyd. b. iv. 3 Exodus x. 7. Numbers xxxiii. 55.
 
 Essay xv.] Annotations. 163 
 
 and judiciously bestowed, will gradually and slowly advance men 
 towards the condition of being worthy of such treatment ; but 
 treat men as aliens or enemies as slaves, as children, or as brutes, 
 and they will speedily and completely justify your conduct/ 1 
 
 ' To which purpose (the removing of sedition) serveth 
 
 the repressing of waste and excess by sumptuary laws 
 .... the regulating of prices of things vendible * 
 
 Bacon here falls into the error which always prevails in the 
 earlier stages of civilization, and which accordingly was more 
 prevalent in his age than in ours that of over-governing. 
 
 It may be reckoned a kind of puerility : for you will generally 
 find young persons prone to it, and also those legislators who 
 lived in the younger (i.e., the earlier) ages of the world. They 
 naturally wish to enforce by law everything that they consider 
 to be good, and forcibly to prevent men from doing anything 
 that is unadvisable. And the amount of mischief is incal- 
 culable that has been caused by this meddlesome kind of 
 legislation. For not only have such legislators been, as often 
 as not, mistaken, as to what really is beneficial or hurtful, but 
 also when they have been right in their judgment on that point, 
 they have often done more harm than good by attempting to 
 enforce by law what had better be left to each man's own 
 discretion. 
 
 As an example of the first kind of error, may be taken the 
 many efforts made by the legislators of various countries to 
 restrict foreign commerce, on the supposition that it would 
 be advantageous to supply all our wants ourselves, and that we 
 must be losers by purchasing anything from abroad. If a 
 weaver were to spend half his time in attempting to make 
 shoes and furniture for himself, or a shoemaker to neglect his 
 trade while endeavouring to raise corn for his own consumption, 
 they would be guilty of no greater folly than has often been, 
 and in many instances still is, forced on many nations by 
 their governments ; which have endeavoured to withdraw from 
 agriculture to manufactures a people possessing abundance of 
 
 1 Essays on some of the Dangers to the Christian Faith. 2nd edition, note F. 
 pp. 212-217. 
 
 M 2
 
 164 Of Seditions and Troubles. [Essay xv. 
 
 fertile land ; or who have forced them to the home cultivation 
 of such articles as their soil and climate are not suited to, and 
 thus compelled them to supply themselves with an inferior 
 commodity at a greater cost. 
 
 On the other hand, there is no doubt that early hours are 
 healthful, and that men ought not to squander their money on 
 luxurious feasts and costly dress, unsuited to their means ; but 
 when governments thereupon undertook to prescribe the hours 
 at which men should go to rest, requiring them to put out their 
 lights at the sound of the curfew-bell, and enacted sumptuary 
 laws as to the garments they were to wear, and the dishes of 
 meat they were to have at their tables, this meddling kind of 
 legislation was always found excessively galling, and moreover 
 entirely ineffectual ; since men's dislike to such laws always 
 produced contrivances for evading the spirit of them. 
 
 Bacon, however, was far from always seeing his way rightly 
 in these questions ; which is certainly not to be wondered at, 
 considering that we, who live three centuries later, have only 
 just emerged from thick darkness into twilight, and are far from 
 having yet completely thrown off those erroneous notions of our 
 forefathers. The regulating of prices by law still existed, in 
 the memory of most of us, with respect to bread and the error 
 of legislating against engrossing of commodities has only very 
 lately been exploded. 
 
 Many restrictions, of various kinds, have been maintained 
 by persons who probably would not themselves have introduced 
 them, but who have an over-dread of innovation ; urging that 
 the burden of proof lies on those who advocate any change ; 
 the presumption being on the side of leaving things unaltered. 
 And as a general rule this is true. But in the case of any 
 restriction, the presumption is the other way. For since no 
 restriction is a good in itself, the burden of proof lies on those 
 who would either introduce or continue it. 
 
 ' Whatsoever is somewhere gotten is somewhere lost' 
 
 This error and it is a very hurtful one was not exploded 
 till long after Bacon's time. The following extract from the 
 Annual Register for 1779 (Appendix, p. 114), may serve to 
 show what absurd notions on political economy were afloat 
 even in the memory of persons now living. The extract is
 
 Essay xv.] Annotations. 165 
 
 from a ' Plan by Dr. Franklin and Mr. Dalrymple for benefiting 
 distant Countries.' 
 
 ' Fair commerce is, where equal values are exchanged for 
 equal, the expense of transport included. Thus, if it costs A 
 in England as much labour and charge to raise a bushel of 
 wheat, as it costs B in France to produce four gallons of wine, 
 then are four gallons of wine the fair exchange for a bushel of 
 wheat, A and B meeting at half distance with their commodities, 
 to make the exchange. The advantage of this fair commerce 
 is, that each party increases the number of his enjoyments, 
 having, instead of wheat alone, or wine alone, the use, of both 
 wheat and wine. 
 
 ' Where the labour and expense of producing both com- 
 modities are known to both parties, bargains will generally be 
 fair and equal. Where they are known to one party only, 
 bargains will often be unequal, knowledge taking its advan- 
 tage of ignorance. 
 
 ' Thus, he that carries a thousand bushels of wheat abroad to 
 sell, may not probably obtain so great a profit thereon as if he 
 had first turned the wheat into manufactures, by subsisting 
 therewith the workmen while producing those manufactures. 
 Since there are many expediting and facilitating methods of 
 working, not generally known; and strangers to the manu- 
 factures, though they know pretty well the expense of raising 
 wheat, are unacquainted with those short methods of working, 
 and thence being apt to suppose more labour employed in the 
 manufactures than there really is, are more easily imposed on 
 in their value, and induced to allow more for them than they 
 are honestly worth. Thus, the advantage of having manufac- 
 tures in a country, does not consist, as is commonly supposed, 
 in their highly advancing the value of rough materials of which 
 they are formed : since though six pennyworths of flax may 
 be worth twenty shillings when worked into lace, yet the very 
 cause of its being worth twenty shillings is, that, besides the 
 flax, it has cost nineteen shillings and sixpence in subsistence 
 to the manufacturer. But the advantage of manufactures is, 
 that under their shape provisions may be more easily carried to 
 a foreign market \ and by their means our traders may more 
 easily cheat strangers. Few, where it is not made, are judges 
 of the value of lace. The importer may demand forty, and
 
 1 66 Of Seditions and Troubles. [Essay xv. 
 
 perhaps get thirty shillings, for that which cost him but 
 twenty. 
 
 ' Finally, there seem to be but three ways for a nation to 
 acquire wealth. The first is by war, as the Romans did, in 
 plundering their conquered neighbours. This is robbery. The 
 second by commerce, which is generally cheating. The third is 
 by agriculture, the only honest way, wherein Man receives a real 
 increase of the seed sown in the ground, in a kind of continual 
 miracle wrought by the hand of God in his favour, as a reward 
 for his innocent life and his virtuous industry.' 
 
 The reader will observe that, in this disquisition, labour is 
 made the sole measure of value, without any regard to the 
 questions, whose labour? or how directed? and, with what 
 results ? On this principle, therefore, if a Raphael takes only 
 as much time and trouble in making a fine picture, as a shoe- 
 maker in making a pair of boots, he is a cheat if he receives 
 more for his picture than the other for the boots ! And if it 
 costs the same labour to produce a cask of ordinary Cape- wine, 
 and one of Constantia, they ought in justice to sell for the 
 same price ! I have heard a groom, who had served in the 
 army, descant on the injustice of paying a soldier less than a 
 general, though he had harder work. Thus our notions of 
 morality, as well as of political economy, are thrown into 
 disorder. 
 
 Yet such nonsense as this passed current in the days of our 
 fathers. And it is only in our own days that people have been 
 permitted to buy food where they could get it cheapest. 
 
 ' There useth to be more trepidation in court upon the first break- 
 ing out of troubles than were fit ... . 3 
 
 To expect to tranquillize and benefit a country by gratifying 
 its agitators, would be like the practice of the superstitious of 
 old with their sympathetic powders and ointments ; who, instead 
 of applying medicaments to the wound, contented themselves 
 with salving the sword which had inflicted it. Since the days 
 of Dane-gelt downwards, nay, since the world was created, 
 nothing but evil has resulted from concessions made to intimi- 
 dation.
 
 ESSAY XVI. 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 miracles to 
 convince 1 atheism, because his ordinary works convince it. It 
 is true, that a little philosophy iuclineth 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 farther ; 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/ 2 it is 
 not said, * The fool hath thought in his heart ;' so as 3 he rather 
 saith it by rote to himself, as that 4 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 5 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 themselves, and would be glad to be strengthened by the 
 consent 6 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 them that will suffer for atheism, and 
 
 1 Convince. Convict ; prove guilty. ' To convince all that are ungodly among 
 them of all their ungodly deeds.' Epistle of Jude. 
 
 2 Psalm xiv. i. 3 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 4 That. What. See page 82. 
 
 5 For whom it maketh. To whom it would le advantageous, 
 
 6 Consent. Agreement in opinion. ' Socrates, by the consent of all excellent 
 writers that followed him, was approved to he the wisest man of all Greece.' Sir 
 J. Elyot.
 
 1 68 Of Atheism. [Essay xvi. 
 
 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 Blest Natures, but such as 
 enjoy 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 tra- 
 duced, 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 2 to deny the administration, he had not the power to 
 deny the nature. The Indians of the West have names for their 
 particular gods, though they have no name for God ; as if the 
 heathens should have had the names Jupiter, Apollo, Mars, &c., 
 but not the word Deus : which shows, that even those barbarous 
 people have the notion, though they have not the latitude and 
 extent of it ; so that against atheists the very savages take 
 part with the very subtilest 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 there 
 be many ; for any one main division addeth zeal to both sides, 
 but many divisions introduce atheism : another is, scandal of 
 priests, when it is come to that which St. Bernard saith, 
 ' Non est jam dicere, ut populus, sic sacerdos ; quia nee sic 
 populus, ut sacerdos/ 3 A third is, a custom of profane scoffing in 
 holy matters, which doth by little and little deface the reverence 
 of religion : and lastly, learned times, especially with peace and 
 prosperity; for troubles and adversities do more bow men's 
 minds to religion. 
 
 1 ' It is not profane to deny the gods of the common people, but it is profane to 
 apply to the gods the notions of the common people.' Diog. Laert. x. 1 23. 
 
 2 Confidence. Boldness. 
 
 ' It is not now to he said, As the people, so the priest ; because the people are 
 not such as the priests are.'
 
 Essay xvi.] Annotations. i6g 
 
 They that deny a God destroy a man's nobility, for cer- 
 tainly 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 
 rising 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 1 which courage is manifestly such as that 
 creature, without that confidence 2 of a better nature than his 
 own, could never attain. So Man, when he resteth and assureth 
 himself upon divine protection and favour, gathereth 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 nee numero Hispanos, nee robore Gallos, 
 nee calliditate Poenos, nee artibus Grsecos, nee denique hoc ipso 
 hujus gentis et terrse domestico nativoque sensu Italos ipsos et 
 Latinos ; sed pietate, ac religione, atque hac una sapientia, quod 
 deorum immortalium numine omnia regi, gubernarique per- 
 speximus, omnes gentes nationesque superavimus.' 3 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 '/ had rather believe all the fables in the Legend, and the Talmud, 
 and the Alcoran, than that this universal frame is without a 
 mind.' 
 
 It is evident from this, that Bacon had seized the just view 
 
 1 A better nature. 
 
 2 Confidence. Firm belief. ' Society is built upon trust, and trust upon confi- 
 dence of one another's integrity.' South. 
 
 3 ' Let us be as partial to ourselves as we will, Conscript Fathers, yet we have 
 not surpassed the Spaniards in number, nor the Gauls in strength, nor the Cartha- 
 ginians in cunning, nor the Greeks in the arts, nor, lastly, the Latins and Italians 
 of this nation and land, in natural intelligence about home-matters; but we have 
 excelled all nations and people in piety and religion, and in this one wisdom of fully 
 recognising that all things are ordered and governed by the power of the immortal 
 gods.' Cic. De Ear. Sesp. 9.
 
 170 Of Atheism. [Essay xvi. 
 
 respecting credulity ; seeing plainly that ' to disbelieve is to 
 believe.' If one man believes that there is a God, and another 
 that there is no God, whichever holds the less reasonable of 
 these two opinions is chargeable with credulity. For, the only 
 way to avoid credulity and incredulity the two necessarily 
 going together is to listen to, and yield to, the best evidence, 
 and to believe and disbelieve on good grounds. 
 
 And however imperfectly and indistinctly we may under- 
 stand the attributes of God of the Eternal Being who made 
 and who governs all things the 'mind of -this universal 
 frame/ the proof of the existence of a Being possessed of 
 them is most clear and full ; being, in fact, the very same evi- 
 dence on which we believe in the existence of one another. How 
 do we know that men exist ? (that is, not merely Beings having 
 a certain visible bodily form for that is not what we chiefly 
 imply by the word Man, but rational agents, such as we call 
 men). Surely not by the immediate evidence of our senses 
 (since mind is not an object of sight), but by observing the 
 things performed the manifest result of rational contrivance. 
 If we land in a strange country, doubting whether it be in- 
 habited, as soon as we find, for instance, a boat, or a house, 
 we are as perfectly certain that a man has been there, as if he 
 had appeared before our eyes. Yet the atheist believes that 
 'this universal frame is without a mind;' that it was the pro- 
 duction of chance ; that the particles of matter of which the 
 world consists, moved about at random, and accidentally fell 
 into the shape it now bears. Surely the atheist has little reason 
 to make a boast of his ' incredulity/ while believing anything so 
 strange and absurd as that ' an army of infinitely small portions 
 or seeds, unplaced, should have produced this order and beauty 
 without a divine marshal.' 
 
 In that phenomenon in language, that both in the Greek and 
 Latin, nouns of the neuter gender, denoting things, invariably 
 had the nominative and the accusative the same, or rather, had 
 an accusative only, employed as a nominative when required, 
 may there not be traced an indistinct consciousness of the 
 persuasion that a mere thing is not capable of being an agent, 
 which a person only can really be ; and that the possession of 
 power, strictly so called, by physical causes, is not conceivable, 
 or their capacity to maintain, any more than to produce at first,
 
 Essay xvi.] Annotations. 171 
 
 the system of the Universe ? whose continued existence, as 
 well as its origin, seems to depend on the continued operation 
 of the great Creator. May there not be in this an admission 
 that the laws of nature presuppose an agent, and are incapable 
 of being the cause of their own observance ? 
 
 ' Epicurus is charged, that he did but dissemble for his credit's sake, 
 when he affirmed there were Blessed Natures .... wherein 
 they say he did but temporize, though in secret he thought 
 there was no God. But certainly he is traduced.' .... 
 
 It is remarkable that Bacon, like many others very con- 
 versant with ancient Mythology, failed to perceive that the 
 pagan nations were in reality atheists. They mistake altogether 
 the real character of the pagan religions. 1 They imagine that 
 all men, in every age and country, had always designed to 
 worship one Supreme God, the Maker of all things; 2 and that 
 the error of the Pagans consisted merely in the false accounts 
 they gave of him, and in their worshipping other inferior gods 
 besides. But this is altogether a mistake. Bacon was, in this, 
 misled by words, as so many have been, the very delusion he 
 so earnestly warns men against. The Pagans used the word 
 which is translated 'God;' but in a different sense from -us. 
 For by the word God, we understand an Eternal Being, who 
 made and who governs all things. And if any one should deny 
 that there is any such Being, we should say that he was an 
 atheist ; even though he might believe that there do exist Beings 
 
 1 See Lessons on Religious Worship, L. ii. 
 
 2 See Pope's Universal Prayer: 
 
 ' Father of all, in every age, 
 
 In every clime adored; 
 By saint, by savage, and by sage, 
 
 Jehovah, Jove, or Lord.' 
 
 See also Howe's Tragedy of Tamerlane, Act 3, Sc. ii. 
 ' Look round how Providence bestows alike 
 Sunshine and rain to bless the fruitful year, 
 On different nations, all of different faiths ; 
 And (tho' by several names and titles worshipp'd) 
 Heaven takes the various tribute of their praise ; 
 Since all agree to own, at least to mean, 
 One best, one greatest, only Lord of all. 
 Thus when he viewed the many forms of Nature 
 He said that all was good, and bless'd the fair variety.
 
 172 Of Atheism. [Essay xvi. 
 
 superior to Man, such as the Fairies and Genii, in whom the 
 uneducated in many parts of Europe still believe. 
 
 Accordingly, the Apostle Paul (Ephes. ii. 12) expressly calls 
 the ancient Pagans atheists (a&oi), though he well knew that 
 they worshipped certain supposed superior Beings which they 
 called gods. But he says in the Epistle to the Romans, that 
 ' they worshipped the creature more than 1 (that is, instead of) 
 the Creator/ And at Lystra (Acts xiv. 15), when the people 
 were going to do sacrifice to him and Barnabas, mistaking them 
 for two of their gods, he told them to ' turn from those vanities, 
 to serve the living God who made heaven and earth' 
 
 This is what is declared in the first sentence of the Book of 
 Genesis. And so far were the ancient Pagans from believing 
 that ' in the beginning God made the heavens and the earth/ 
 that, on the contrary, the heavens, and the earth, and the sea, 
 and many other natural objects, were among the very gods they 
 adored. They did, indeed, believe such extravagant fables as 
 Bacon alludes to, and which he declares to be less incredible 
 than that ' this universal frame is without a mind f and yet, 
 they did also believe that it is without a mind ; that is, without 
 what he evidently means by 'a mind' an eternal, intelligent 
 Maker and Ruler. Most men would understand by ' an atheist* 
 one who disbelieves the existence of any such personal agent ; 
 though believing (as every one must) that there is some kind of 
 cause for everything that takes place. 
 
 It may be added, that, as the pagan-worship has been gene- 
 rally of evil Beings, 2 so, the religions have been usually of a 
 corresponding character. We read of the ancient Canaanites 
 that 'every abomination which the Lord hateth, have these 
 nations done, unto their gods.' And among the Hindus, the 
 foulest impurities, and the most revolting cruelties, are not 
 merely permitted by their religion, but are a part of their 
 worship. Yet one may hear it said, not unfrequently, that 
 ' any religion is better than none/ And a celebrated writer, 
 in an article in a Review (afterwards republished by himself), 
 deriding the attempt to convert the Hindus, represents their 
 religion as being (though absurd) on the whole beneficial; 
 because 'it is better that a man should look for reward 
 
 1 Tlapd TOV Krlaavra. 
 
 2 See Lessons on Religious Worship, L. ii.
 
 Essay xvi.] Annotations. 173 
 
 or punishment from a deity with a hundred arms, than that 
 he should look for none at all.' But he forgot to take into 
 account the question, ' rewarded or punished FOR WHAT ?' The 
 hundred-armed deity makes it an unpardonable sin to put into 
 the mouth a cartridge greased with beef-fat, but a meritorious 
 act to slaughter, with circumstances of unspeakable horror, 
 men, women, and children, of Christians! 1 
 
 ( A custom of profane scoffing in holy matters. 3 
 
 In reference to * the profane scoffing in holy matters/ it is 
 to be observed that jests on sacred subjects are, when men are 
 so disposed, the most easily produced of any; because the 
 contrast between the dignified and a low image, exhibited in 
 combination (in which the whole force of the ludicrous consists), 
 is, in this case, the most striking. It is commonly said, that 
 there is no wit in profane jests ; but it would be hard to frame 
 any definition of wit that should exclude them. It would be 
 more correct to say (and I really believe that is what is really 
 meant) that the practice displays no great powers of wit, because 
 the subject matter renders it so particularly easy; and that (for 
 the very same reason) it affords the least gratification (apart 
 from all higher considerations) to judges of good taste ; since 
 a great part of the pleasure afforded by wit results from a 
 perception of skill displayed, and difficulty surmounted. 
 
 I have said, ' apart from all higher considerations ;' for surely, 
 there is something very shocking to a well-disposed mind in 
 such jests, as those, for instance, so frequently heard, in con- 
 nexion with Satan and his agency. Suppose a rational Being 
 an inhabitant of some other planet could visit this, our 
 earth, and witness the gaiety of heart with which Satan, and 
 his agents, and his victims, and the dreadful doom reserved for 
 them, and everything relating to the subject, are, by many 
 persons, talked of and laughed at, and resorted to as a source 
 of amusement; what inference would he be likely to draw? 
 
 Doubtless he would, at first, conclude that no one believed 
 anything of all this, but that we regarded the whole as a string 
 of fables, like the heathen mythology, or the nursery tales of 
 fairies and enchanters, which are told to amuse children. But 
 when he came to learn that these things are not only true, but 
 
 1 See Lecture on Egypt.
 
 174 Of Atheism. [Essay xvi. 
 
 are actually believed by the far greater part of those who, 
 nevertheless, treat them as a subject of mirth, what would he 
 think of us then? He would surely regard this as a most 
 astounding proof of the great art, and of the great influence 
 of that Evil Being who can have so far blinded men's under- 
 standings, and so depraved their moral sentiments, and so 
 hardened their hearts, as to lead them, not merely to regard 
 with careless apathy their spiritual Enemy, and the dangers they 
 are exposed to from him, and the final ruin of his victims, but 
 even to find amusement in a subject of such surpassing horror, 
 and to introduce allusions to it by way of a jest ! Surely, 
 generally speaking, right-minded persons are accustomed to 
 regard wickedness and misery as most unfit subjects for jesting. 
 They would be shocked at any one who should find amusement 
 in the ravages and slaughter perpetrated by a licentious soldiery 
 in a conquered country; or in the lingering tortures inflicted 
 by wild Indians on their prisoners ; or in the burning of heretics 
 under the Inquisition. Nay, the very Inquisitors themselves, 
 who have thought it their duty to practise such cruelties, would 
 have been ashamed to be thought so brutal as to regard the 
 sufferings of their victims as a subject of mirth. And any one 
 who should treat as a jest the crimes and cruelties of the French 
 Revolution, would generally be deemed more depraved than 
 even the perpetrators themselves. 1 
 
 It is, however, to be observed, that we are not to be offended 
 as if sacred matters were laughed at, when some folly that has 
 been forced into connexion with them is exposed. When things 
 really ridiculous are mixed up with religion, who is to be 
 blamed? Not he who shows that they are ridiculous, and no 
 parts of religion, but those who disfigure truth by blending 
 falsehood with it. It is true, indeed, that to attack even error 
 in religion with mere ridicule is no wise act ; because good 
 things may be ridiculed as well as bad. But it surely cannot 
 be our duty to abstain from showing plainly that absurd things 
 are absurd, merely because people cannot help smiling at them. 
 A tree is not injured by being cleared of moss and lichens; nor 
 truth, by having folly or sophistry torn away from around it. 2 
 
 1 See Lectures on a Future State. 
 * See Cautions for the Times.
 
 Essay xvi.] Annotations. 175 
 
 It is a good plan, with a young person of a character to 
 be much affected by ludicrous and absurd representations, to 
 show him plainly, by examples, that there is nothing which may 
 not be so represented. He will hardly need to be told that 
 everything is not a mere joke ; and he may thus be secured 
 from falling into a contempt of those particular things which 
 he may at any time happen to find so treated ; and, instead 
 of being led by ' profane scoffing on holy matters into atheism/ 
 as Bacon supposes, he will be apt to pause and reflect that it 
 may be as well to try over again, with serious candour, every- 
 thing which has been hastily given up as fit only for ridicule, 
 and to abandon the system of scoffing altogether; looking at 
 everything on the right side as well as on the wrong, and 
 trying how any system will look, standing upright, as well as 
 topsy-turvy. 
 
 ' The causes of atheism are ' 
 
 Among the causes of atheism, Bacon has omitted one noticed 
 by him as one of the causes of superstition, and yet it is not 
 less a source of infidelity f the taking an aim at divine matters 
 by human, which cannot but breed mixture of imaginations/ 
 Now, in human nature there is no more powerful principle than 
 a craving for infallibility in religious matters. To examine and 
 re-examine, to reason and reflect, to hesitate and to decide 
 with caution, to be always open to evidence, and to acknow- 
 ledge that, after all, we are liable to error ; all this is, on many 
 accounts, unacceptable to the human mind, both to its diffidence 
 and to its pride, to its indolence, its dread of anxious cares, 
 and to its love of self-satisfied and confident repose. And 
 hence there is a strong prejudice in favour of any system which 
 promises to put an end to the work of inquiring, at once and 
 for ever, and to relieve us from all embarrassing doubt and 
 uncomfortable distrust. Consequently this craving for infallibi- 
 lity predisposes men towards the pretensions, either of a supposed 
 unerring Church, or of those who claim or who promise imme- 
 diate inspiration. And this promise of infallible guidance, not 
 only meets Man's wishes, but his conjectures also. When we 
 give the reins to our own feelings and fancies, such a provision 
 appears as probable as it is desirable. If antecedently to the
 
 1 76 Of Atheism. [Essay xvi. 
 
 distinct announcement of any particular revelation, men were 
 asked what kind of revelation they would wish to obtain, and 
 again, what kind of revelation they would think it the most 
 reasonable and probable that God should bestow, they would be 
 likely to answer both questions by saying, ' Such a revelation as 
 should provide some infallible guide on earth, readily accessible 
 to every man ; so that no one could possibly be in doubt, on 
 any point, as to what he was required to believe and to do ; but 
 should be placed, as it were, on a kind of plain high road, 
 which he would only have to follow steadily, without taking any 
 care to look around him; or, rather, in some kind of vehicle 
 on such a road, in which he would be safely carried to his 
 journey's end, even though asleep, provided he never quitted 
 that vehicle. For/ a man might say, 'if a book is put into 
 my hands containing a divine revelation, and in which are 
 passages that may be differently understood by different persons, 
 even by those of learning and ability, even by men pro- 
 fessing each to have earnestly prayed for spiritual guidance 
 towards the right interpretation thereof, and if, moreover, this 
 book contains, in respect of some points of belief and of con- 
 duct, no directions at all, then there is a manifest necessity 
 that I should be provided with an infallible interpreter of this 
 book, who shall be always at hand to be consulted, and ready 
 to teach me, without the possibility of mistake, the right 
 meaning of every passage, and to supply all deficiencies and 
 omissions in the book itself. For, otherwise, this revelation is, 
 to me, no revelation at all. Though the book itself be perfectly 
 free from all admixture of error, though all that it asserts be 
 true, and all its directions right, still it is no guide for me, unless 
 I have an infallible certainty, on each point, what its assertions 
 and directions are. It is in vain to tell me that the pole-star 
 is always fixed in the north ; I cannot steer my course by it 
 when it is obscured by clouds, so that I cannot be certain where 
 that star is. I need a compass to steer by, which I can consult 
 at all times. There is, therefore, a manifest necessity for an 
 infallible and universally accessible interpreter on earth, as an 
 indispensable accompaniment and indeed essential part of 
 any divine revelation/ 
 
 Such would be the reasonings, and such the feelings, of a 
 man left to himself to consider what sort of revelation from
 
 Essay xvi.] Annotations. 177 
 
 Heaven would be the most acceptable, and also the most pro- 
 bable, the most adapted to meet his wishes and his wants. 
 And thus are men predisposed, both by their feelings, and their 
 antecedent conjectures, towards the admission of such preten- 
 sions as have been above alluded to. 
 
 And it may be added, that any one who is thus induced to 
 give himself up implicitly to the guidance of such a supposed 
 infallible authority, without presuming thenceforth to exercise 
 his own judgment on any point relative to religion, or to think 
 for himself at all on such matters, such a one will be likely 
 to regard this procedure as the very perfection of pious humility, 
 as a most reverent observance of the rule of ' lean not to 
 thine own understanding ' though in reality it is the very error 
 of improperly leaning to our own understanding. For, to 
 resolve to believe that God must have dealt with mankind just 
 in the way that we could wish as the most desirable, and in the 
 way that to us seems the most probable, this is, in fact, to set 
 up ourselves as his judges. It is to dictate to Him, in the spirit 
 of Naaman, who thought that the prophet would recover him 
 by a touch ; and who chose to be healed by the waters of Abana 
 and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, which he deemed better 
 than all the waters of Israel. 
 
 But anything that falls in at once with men's wishes, and 
 with their conjectures, and which also presents itself to them in 
 the guise of a virtuous humility, this they are often found 
 readily and firmly to believe, not only without evidence, but 
 against all evidence. 
 
 And thus it is in the present case. The principle that every 
 revelation from Heaven necessarily requires, as an indispensable 
 accompaniment, an infallible interpreter always at hand, this 
 principle clings so strongly to the minds of many men, that 
 they are even found still to maintain it after they have ceased 
 to believe in any revelation at all, or .even in the existence of a 
 God. 
 
 There can be no doubt of the fact, that very great numbers 
 of men are to be found, they are much more numerous in 
 some parts of the Continent than among us ; men not deficient 
 in intelligence, nor altogether strangers to reflection who, while 
 they, for the most part, conform externally to the prevailing 
 religion, are inwardly utter unbelievers in Christianity; yet still
 
 178 Of Atheism. [Essay xvi. 
 
 hold to the principle, which, in fact, has had the chief share 
 in making them unbelievers, that the idea of a DIVINE REVE- 
 LATION implies that of a universally accessible, INFALLIBLE 
 INTERPRETER ; and that the one without the other is an absur- 
 dity and contradiction. 
 
 And this principle it is that has mainly contributed to make 
 these men unbelievers. For, when a tolerably intelligent and 
 reflective man has fully satisfied himself that in point of fact 
 no such provision has been made, that no infallible and uni- 
 versally accessible interpreter does exist on earth (and this is a 
 conclusion which even the very words of Paul, in his discourse 
 at Miletus [Acts xx.] would be alone fully sufficient to establish) 
 when he has satisfied himself of the non-existence of this 
 interpreter, yet still adheres to the principle of its supposed 
 necessity, the consequence is inevitable, that he will at once 
 reject all belief of Christianity. The ideas of a REVELATION, 
 and of an unerring INTERPRETER, being, in his mind, inseparably 
 conjoined, the overthrow of the one belief cannot but carry the 
 other along with it. Such a person, therefore, will be apt to 
 think it not worth while to examine the reasons in favour of 
 any other form of Christianity, not pretending to furnish an 
 infallible interpreter. This which, he is fully convinced, is 
 essential to a Revelation from Heaven is, by some Churches, 
 claimed, but not established ; while the rest do not even claim 
 it. The pretensions of the one he has listened to, and delibe- 
 rately rejected ; those of the other he regards as not even worth 
 listening to. 
 
 The system, then, of reasoning from our own conjectures 
 as to the necessity of the Most High doing so and so, tends to 
 lead a man to proceed from the rejection of his own form of 
 Christianity, to a rejection of revelation altogether. But does 
 it stop here ? Does not the same system lead naturally to 
 ATHEISM also ? Experience shows that that consequence, which 
 reason might have anticipated, does often actually take place. 
 He who gives the reins to his own conjectures as to what is 
 necessary, and thence draws his conclusions, will be likely to 
 find a necessity for such divine interference in the affairs of the 
 world as does not in fact take place. He will deem it no less 
 than necessary, that an omnipotent and all-wise and beneficent 
 Being should interfere to rescue the oppressed from the oppressor,
 
 Essay xvi.] Annotations. 179 
 
 the corrupted from the corruptor, to deliver men from such 
 temptations to evil as it is morally impossible they should 
 withstand j and, in short, to banish evil from the universe. 
 And, since this is not done, he draws the inference that there 
 cannot possibly be a God, and that to believe otherwise is a 
 gross absurdity. Such a belief he may, indeed, consider as 
 useful for keeping up a wholesome awe in the minds of the 
 vulgar; and for their sakes he may outwardly profess Christianity 
 also ; even as the heathen philosophers of old endeavoured to 
 keep up the popular superstitions ; but a real belief he will 
 regard as something impossible to an intelligent and reflective 
 mind. 
 
 It is not meant that all, or the greater part, of those who 
 maintain the principle here spoken of, are Atheists. We all 
 know how common it is for men to fail of carrying out some 
 principle (whether good or bad) which they have adopted; how 
 common, to maintain the premises, and not perceive the con- 
 clusion to which they lead. But the tendency of the principle 
 itself is what is here pointed out : and the danger is anything 
 but imaginary, of its leading, in fact, as it does naturally and 
 consistently, to Atheism as its ultimate result. 
 
 But surely, the Atheist is not hereby excused. To reject 
 or undervalue the revelation God has bestowed, urging that it 
 is no revelation to us, or an insufficient one, because unerring 
 certainty is not bestowed also, because we are required to 
 exercise patient diligence, and watchfulness, and candour, and 
 humble self-distrust, this would be as unreasonable as to dis- 
 parage and reject the bountiful gift of eye-sight, because men's 
 eyes have sometimes deceived them because men have mis- 
 taken a picture for the object imitated, or a mirage of the 
 desert for a lake ; and have fancied they had the evidence of 
 sight for the sun's motion ; and to infer from all this that we 
 ought to blindfold ourselves, and be led henceforth by some 
 guide who pretends to be himself not liable to such deceptions. 
 
 Let no one fear that by forbearing to forestall the judgment 
 of the last day, by not presuming to dictate to the Most High, 
 and boldly to pronounce in what way He must have imparted a 
 revelation to Man, by renouncing all pretensions to infallibility, 
 whether an immediate and personal, or a derived infallibility, 
 by owning themselves to be neither impeccable nor infallible 
 
 N a
 
 1 80 Of Atheism. [Essay xvi. 
 
 (both claims are alike groundless), and by consenting to un- 
 dergo those trials of vigilance and of patience which God has 
 appointed for them, let them not fear that by this they will 
 forfeit all cheerful hope of final salvation, all ' joy and peace 
 in believing/ The reverse of all this is the reality. While such 
 Christians as have sought rather for peace, for mental tran- 
 quillity and satisfaction, than for truth, will often fail both of 
 truth and peace, those of the opposite disposition are more 
 likely to attain both from their gracious Master. He has 
 taught us to ' take heed that we be not deceived/ and to 
 ' beware of false prophets / and He has promised us his own 
 peace and heavenly comfort. He has bid us watch and pray; 
 He has taught us, through his blessed Apostle, to * take heed 
 to ourselves/ and to ' work out our salvation with fear and 
 trembling / and He has declared, through the same Apostle, 
 that ' He worketh in us / He has bid us rejoice in hope ; He 
 lias promised that He ' will not suffer us to be tempted above 
 what we are able to bear / and He has taught us to look for- 
 ward to the time when we shall no longer ' see as by means of 
 a mirror, darkly, but face to face / when we shall know, ' not 
 in part, but even as we are known/ when faith shall be 
 succeeded by certainty, and hope be ripened into enjoyment. 
 His precepts and his promises go together. His support and 
 comfort are given to those who seek for them in the way He 
 has Himself appointed.
 
 ESSAY XVII. 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 such a man at all as Plutarch, than that they should say 
 there was one Plutarch, that would eat his children as soon as 
 they were born ;' ' as the poets speak of Saturn : and as the 
 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 atheism did never 
 perturb 2 States ; for it makes men wary of themselves, as look- 
 ing no further ; and we see the times inclined to atheism, as 
 the time of Augustus Caesar, were civil 3 times ; but superstition 
 hath been the confusion of many States, and bringeth in a new 
 primum mobile, 4 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. 
 
 1 Plut. De Superstit. x. 
 
 2 Perturb. To disturb. ' They are content to suffer the penalties annexed, 
 rather than perturb the public peace.' King Charles I. 
 
 3 CiviL Orderly ; tranquil ; civilized. 
 
 1 For rudest minds by harmony were caught, 
 And civil life was by the Muses taught.' Roscommon. 
 
 4 Primum mobile. See page 152.
 
 1 82 Of Superstition. [Essay xvii. 
 
 The causes of superstition are pleasing and sensual 1 rites and 
 ceremonies; excess of outward and pharisaical holiness; over- 
 great reverence of traditions, which cannot but load the Church ; 
 the stratagems of prelates for their own ambition and lucre ; 
 the favouring 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 imagina- 
 tions ; and, lastly, barbarous times, especially joined with cala- 
 mities 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 ; arid as wholesome meat corrupteth to little worms, 
 so good forms and orders corrupt into a number of petty obser- 
 vances. 
 
 There is a superstition in avoiding superstition, when men 
 think to do best if they go farthest from the superstition 
 formerly received; therefore care would 2 be had that (as it 
 fareth in ill purgings) the good be not taken away with the bad, 
 which commonly is done when the people is the reformer. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON SUPERSTITION. 
 
 PEG. CONTKA. 
 
 ' Qui zelo peccant, non probandi, sed ' Ut simiae, similitude* cum homine, 
 
 tamen amandi sunt. deformitatem addit; ita superstitioni, 
 
 ' Those who go wrong from excess of similitude cum religione. 
 
 zeal, cannot indeed be approved, but ' As an ape is the more hideous for 
 
 must nevertheless be loved' its resemblance to a man, so is super- 
 
 * stitionfrom its resemblance to religion.' 
 
 ' Prsestat nullam habere de diis 
 opinionem, quam contumeliosam. 
 
 ' It is better to have no opinion at all 
 of the gods, than a degrading one' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 Some use the word superstition to denote any belief which 
 they hold to be absurd, if those who hold it can give no ex- 
 planation of it. For example, some fancy that the hair will 
 not grow well if it be cut in the wane of the moon ; and that 
 
 1 Sensual. Affecting the senses. * Would. Should.
 
 Essay xvii.] Annotations. 183 
 
 bees will not prosper unless the owner goes to the hives when- 
 ever a marriage or death occurs in his family, and announces it. 
 But such a notion, though it may be a groundless fancy, is not to 
 be called, in the strict sense, a superstition, unless it be connected 
 with some sort of religious reverence for some supposed super- 
 human agent. Neither is superstition (as it has been denned 
 by a popular though superficial writer) * an excess of religion ' 
 (at least in the ordinary sense of the word excess), as if any one 
 could have too much of true religion : but any misdirection of 
 religious feeling ; manifested either in showing religious venera- 
 tion or regard to objects which deserve none ; that is, properly 
 speaking, the worship of false gods ; or, in the assignment of 
 such a degree, or such a kind of religious veneration to any ob- 
 ject, as that object, though worthy of some reverence, does not 
 deserve ; or in the worship of the true God through the medium 
 of improper rites and ceremonies. 
 
 It was the unsparing suppression of both those kinds of 
 superstition which constituted the distinguished and peculiar 
 merit of that upright and zealous prince, Hezekiah. He was 
 not satisfied, like many other kings, with putting down that 
 branch of superstition which involves the breach of the first 
 Commandment the setting up of false gods ; but was equally 
 decisive in his reprobation of the other branch also the wor- 
 ship of the true God by the medium of prohibited emblems, 
 and with unauthorized and superstitious rites. Of these two 
 kinds of superstition, the latter is continually liable, in practice, 
 to slide into the former by such insensible degrees, that it is 
 often hard to decide, in particular cases, where the breach of 
 the second Commandment ends, and that of the first begins. 
 The distinction is not, however, for that reason useless ; perhaps 
 it is even the more useful on that very account, and was for 
 that reason preserved, in those two Commandments, of which 
 the second serves as a kind of outwork to the first, to guard 
 against all gradual approaches to a violation of it to keep men 
 at a distance from infringing the majesty of ' the jealous God/ 
 Minds strongly predisposed to superstition, may be compared 
 to heavy bodies just balanced on the verge of a precipice. The 
 slightest touch will send them over, and then, the greatest 
 exertion that can be made may be insufficient to arrest their 
 fall.
 
 184 Of Superstition. [Essay xvii. 
 
 ' The one is unbelief, the other is contumely ; and certainly 
 superstition is the reproach of the Deity' 
 
 Bacon might have said that both are unbelief ; for, he who 
 rashly gives heed to superstitious delusions, errs not from excess 
 of faith, but from want of faith ; since what is true in his 
 belief, he receives not because it is true, but because it agrees 
 with some prejudice or fancy of his own ; and he is right when 
 he is right, only by chance. Having violated the spirit of the 
 first Commandment, by regarding what is human with the vene- 
 ration due to that only which is divine, his worship, even of the 
 true God, becomes an abomination. ' He has set up idols in 
 his heart, and the Lord, the jealous God, will set his face 
 against that man/ 
 
 And in reference to the contumely of God, it is a circum- 
 stance very remarkable, that, in many instances at least, super- 
 stition not only does not promote true religion, but even tends 
 to generate profaneness. In proof of the strange mixture of 
 superstition and profaneness that leads to the jokes and sallies 
 of wit that are frequently heard among the Spanish peasantry, 
 even in respect of the very objects of superstitious reverence, 
 I can cite the testimony of an eminently competent witness. 
 The like strange mixture is found in other Roman-catholic, and 
 also in Pagan countries, particularly among the Hindus, who 
 are described as habitually reviling their gods in the grossest 
 terms, on the occasion of any untoward event. And in our 
 own country nothing is so common a theme of profane jests 
 among the vulgar of all ranks as the Devil ; a large proportion 
 of the superstition that exists being connected more or less 
 with the agency of Evil Spirits. 
 
 This curious anomaly may perhaps be, in a great measure 
 at least, accounted for, from the consideration, that, as supersti- 
 tion imposes a yoke rather of fear than of love, her votaries are 
 glad to take revenge, as it were, when galled by this yoke, and 
 to indemnify themselves in some degree both for the irksome- 
 ness of their restraints and tasks, and also for the degradation 
 (some sense of which is always excited by a consciousness of 
 slavish dread), by taking liberties whenever they dare, either 
 in the way of insult or of playfulness, with the objects of their 
 dread.
 
 Essay xvii.] Annotations. 185 
 
 But how comes it that they ever do dare, as we see is the 
 fact, to take these liberties ? This will perhaps be explained 
 by its being a characteristic of superstition to enjoin, and to 
 attribute efficacy to, the mere performance of some specific out- 
 ward acts, the use of some material object, without any 
 loyal, affectionate devotion of heart being required to accompany 
 such acts, and to pervade the whole life as a ruling motive. 
 Hence, the rigid observance of the precise directions given, 
 leaves the votary secure, at ease in conscience, and at liberty, 
 as well as in a disposition, to indulge in profaneness. In like 
 manner a patient, who dares not refuse to swallow a nauseous 
 dose, and to confine himself to a strict regimen, yet who is both 
 vexed, and somewhat ashamed, at submitting to the annoy- 
 ance, will sometimes take his revenge as it were, by abusive 
 ridicule of the medical attendant and his drugs; knowing that 
 this will not, so long as he does but take the medicines, dimi- 
 nish their efficacy. Superstitious observances are a kind of 
 distasteful or disgusting remedy, which, however, is to operate 
 if it be but swallowed, and on which accordingly the votary 
 sometimes ventures gladly to revenge himself. Thus does 
 superstition generate profaneness. 
 
 There was an ancient superstition, the baptizing (as it was 
 called) of church-bells, which probably had some share in leading 
 to a profanation existing among us, the ceremony of what is 
 called the christening of a ship. The Sacrament of Baptism is 
 often called christening ; i.e., making a person a Christian ; a 
 member of the Church of Christ. And because it is usual to 
 give a name on that occasion (though this is no essential part 
 of the Sacrament), hence the word is often applied, though 
 most irreverently, to the naming of a dog, a horse, or a ship. 
 And in this last case, it is usual to go through the ceremony 
 of dashing a bottle of wine against the ship's side ; which is 
 in fact a kind of Parody of the Sacrament of Baptism. This 
 profanation is practised and countenanced by persons who, I 
 doubt not, have no deliberate design to do anything profane ; 
 but who are culpably careless of the tendency of what they are 
 doing. And it may be hoped that when they are brought to 
 consider the matter, they will cease to give such occasion to 
 irreligious scoffers.
 
 1 86 Of Superstition. [Essay xvii. 
 
 ' As the contumely is greater towards God, so the danger is 
 greater towards men.' 
 
 It is somewhat strange that it should be necessary to remark 
 on the enormity the noxious character of all superstition. 
 The mischiefs of superstition are, I conceive, much underrated. 
 It is by many regarded, not as any sin, but as a mere harmless 
 folly, at the worst; as, in some instances, an amiable weak- 
 ness, or even a salutary delusion. Its votaries are pitied, as 
 in some cases subjected to needless and painful restraints, 
 and undergoing groundless terrors ; sometimes they are ridi- 
 culed as enslaved to absurd and puerile observances : but 
 whether pitied or laughed at, superstitious Christians are often 
 regarded as likely at least as not the less likely on account 
 of their superstition, to have secured the essentials of religion : 
 as believing and practising what is needful towards salvation, 
 and as only carrying their faith and their practice, unnecessarily 
 and unreasonably, to the point of weak credulity and foolish 
 scrupulosity. This view of the subject has a strong tendency 
 to confirm the superstitious, and even to add to their number. 
 They feel that if there is any doubt, they are surely on the 
 safe side. ( Supposing I am in error on this or that point ' 
 (a man may say), ' I am merely doing something superfluous; 
 at the worst I suffer some temporary inconvenience, and perhaps 
 have to encounter some ridicule ; but if the error be on the other 
 side, I risk my salvation by embracing it; my present course 
 therefore is evidently the safest I am, after all, on the safe side/ 
 As if there were any safe side but the side of truth ; and as 
 if it could be safe to manifest distrust of a skilful physician by 
 combining with his medicines all the nostrums of all the ignorant 
 practitioners in the neighbourhood. 
 
 ' How far the superstition of any individual may be excu- 
 sable or blameable in the sight of God, can be pronounced by 
 Him alone, who alone is able to estimate each man's strength 
 or weakness, his opportunities of gaining knowledge, and his 
 employment or neglect of those opportunities. But the same 
 may be said of every other offence, as well as of those in 
 question. Of superstition itself, in all its various forms and 
 degrees, I cannot think otherwise than that it is not merely a
 
 Essay xvii.] Annotations, 187 
 
 folly to be ridiculed, but a mischief to be dreaded ; and that its 
 tendency is, in most cases, as far as it extends, destructive 
 of true piety. 
 
 f The disposition to reverence some superhuman Power, and 
 in some way or other to endeavour to recommend ourselves to 
 the favour of that Power, is (more or less in different individuals) 
 a natural and original sentiment of the human mind. The 
 great Enemy of Man finds it easier in most cases to misdirect, 
 than to eradicate this. If an exercise for this religious senti- 
 ment can be provided if this natural craving after divine 
 worship (if I may so speak) can be satisfied by the practice of 
 superstitious ceremonies, true piety will be much more easily 
 extinguished ; the conscience will on this point have been set 
 at rest ; God's place in the heart will, as it were, have been 
 pre-occupied by an idol ; and that genuine religion which 
 consists in a devotedness of the affections to God, operating in 
 the improvement of the moral character, will be more effectually 
 shut out, from the religious feelings of our nature having found 
 another vent, and exhausted themselves on vanities of man's 
 devising.' 1 
 
 Too religious, in the proper sense of the word, we cannot be. 
 We cannot have the religious sentiments and principles too 
 strong, or too deeply fixed, if only they have a right object. 
 We cannot love God too warmly or honour Him too highly 
 or strive to serve Him too earnestly or trust Him too impli- 
 citly; because our duty is to love Him 'with all our heart, and 
 all our soul, and all our mind, and all our strength.' 
 
 But too religious, in another sense, we may, and are very 
 apt to be ; that is, we are very apt to make for ourselves too 
 many objects of religious feeling. 
 
 Now, Almighty God has revealed Himself as the proper 
 object of religion as the one only Power on whom we are to 
 feel ourselves continually dependent for all things, and the one 
 only Being whose favour we are continually to seek. And, lest 
 we should complain that an Infinite Being is an object too 
 remote and incomprehensible for our minds to dwell upon, He 
 has manifested Himself in his Son, the man Jesus Christ, whose 
 history and character are largely described to us in the Gospels ; 
 
 1 Errors of Romanism, 3rd edition, Essay I. 3, pp. 34-37-
 
 1 88 Of Superstition. [Essay xvii. 
 
 so that, to love, fear, honour, and serve Jesus Christ, is to love, 
 fear, honour, and serve Almighty God ; Jesus Christ being 
 ' one with the Father/ and ' all the fulness of the Godhead ' 
 dwelling in Him. 
 
 But as long as our characters are not like God's, and we are 
 unwilling to have them made like his, we are naturally averse 
 to being brought thus into immediate contact with Him ; and 
 we shrink from holding (as it were) direct converse, or ' walking 
 with' God, from making Him the object towards which our 
 thoughts and affections directly turn, and the person to whom 
 we come straight in our prayers, and in whose control and 
 presence we feel ourselves at all times. Hence, men wish to 
 put between themselves and God some other less perfect Beings, 
 with whom they can be more familiar, and who (they hope) will 
 * let them off' more easily, when they sin, than He would. 
 
 Now, indulging this disposition is not merely adding to true 
 religion, but destroying, or going near to destroy it. For, when 
 we have once made for ourselves such objects of religious feel- 
 ings, they are objects so much more suited to our corrupt nature 
 than God is, that we soon begin to let Him drop out of our 
 minds entirely, whilst the inferior Powers engross all our serious 
 worship. Thus the heathens, who began with adding the wor- 
 ship of other deities to that of the Supreme, ended with ceasing 
 to worship the Supreme at all. Nor does it make so much 
 difference, as one might at first suppose, whether we think of 
 such inferior Beings as lords, having a direct control over us (as 
 the Pagans commonly did), or as only influencing the Supreme 
 through their favour with Him; as the Greeks and Roman- 
 catholics commonly profess to think of the glorified saints ; 
 because he from whom I expect happiness or misery, becomes 
 the uppermost object in my mind, whether he give or only pro- 
 cure it. If an agent has such influence with the landlord, that 
 the agent's friends are sure of favour, and his foes are sure of 
 hard treatment, it is the agent, and not the landlord, that the 
 tenants will most think about; though all his power comes 
 really from the landlord. Hence we may see the danger of 
 this kind of superstition, by which the heart which should be 
 God's is forestalled, as it were, by other objects.
 
 Essay xvii.] Annotations. 189 
 
 ' Atheism did never perturb States.' 
 
 It may perhaps be inferred from this remark that Bacon 
 entertained an opinion, held by some, that persons indifferent 
 about all religions are the most likely to be tolerant of all, and 
 to be averse to persecution and coercion. But this is a mis- 
 taken notion. Many persons, indeed, perhaps most, are tole- 
 rant or intolerant according to their respective tempers, and not 
 according to their principles. But as far as principles are con- 
 cerned, certainly the latitudinarian is the more likely to be 
 intolerant, and the sincerely conscientious tolerant. A man 
 who is careless about religious sincerity, may clearly see and 
 appreciate the political convenience of religious uniformity; and 
 if he has no religious scruples of his own, he will not be the 
 more likely to be tender of the religious scruples of others : if 
 he is ready himself to profess what he does not believe, he will 
 see no reason why others should not do the same. 
 
 ' Mr. Brydone mentions in his Travels the case of an English- 
 man who attended Mass at a church in Naples through curiosity 
 (which I am far from justifying), and on the elevation of the 
 Host, remained standing, while those around knelt : for this he 
 was reproved by a gentleman near him, as a violation of the 
 rules of delicacy and good breeding, in thus shocking the feel- 
 ings of the congregation : he answered that he did not believe 
 in the real presence ; ' No more do I, sir,' was the reply ; ' and 
 yet you see I kneel.' 
 
 ' Now, without attempting to vindicate the conduct of the 
 Englishman (who was under no compulsion to be present at a 
 service in which he scrupled to join), it may be remarked that 
 the Neapolitan, or Mr. Brydone, would probably have been dis- 
 posed, if entrusted with the government of any country, to 
 compel every one's compliance, in all points, with whatever the 
 feelings of the people required ; not only to kneel before the 
 Host, but to attend in processions the image of St. Januarius, 
 &c., if their omitting it would be likely to give offence. The 
 plea of conscientious scruple they would not have understood. 
 ( I do not believe so and so/ would have been met by the ready 
 answer, ' No more do I ; and yet I kneel.' l 
 
 1 Kingdom of Christ, Essay I. 13, page 59, 4th edition.
 
 190 Of Superstition. [Essay xvii. 
 
 ' As the Protestant is often inclined to look no further than 
 to Romanism for the origin of persecution, so is the Infidel 
 to regard Christianity as the chief cause of it. But both are 
 mistaken. I am convinced that atheists, should they ever 
 become the predominant party, would persecute religion. For 
 it is to human nature we must trace both this and many other 
 of those evils which each man is usually disposed to attribute 
 to the particular system he is opposed to ; and nearly the same 
 causes, which generate especial hostility towards those who 
 differ in faith from ourselves, would be found to exist in the 
 atheists. They would feel themselves to be regarded by the 
 Christians, not indeed as weak and credulous, but as perverse 
 and profane : their confidence again in their own persuasion 
 would be as likely to be shaken by the Christian, as the Chris- 
 tian's, by them : all the human passions, in short, and all the 
 views of political expediency, which have ever tempted the 
 Christian to persecute, would have a corresponding operation 
 with them. 
 
 ' Not that I conceive most of them to have, themselves, any 
 suspicion of this, or to be insincere in their professed abhorrence 
 of persecution . As no one wishes to persecute, so they probably 
 do not anticipate (under the above-mentioned supposition) such 
 a state of things as would seem to call for coercive measures. 
 They imagine, probably, that when they had deprived Christian 
 ministers of endowments, had publicly proclaimed the falsity 
 of the Christian faith, and had taken measures for promoting 
 education, and circulating books calculated to enlighten the 
 people, the whole system of religious belief would gradually, 
 but speedily, die away, and be regarded in the same light with 
 tales of fairies. Such, doubtless, was the notion of some, whom 
 I have known to express regret that Buonaparte did not employ 
 the power he possessed in conferring so great a benefit on 
 society as he might have done, 'by abolishing Christianity/ 
 They were thinking, probably, of no more active measures 
 than the withholding of the support and countenance of govern- 
 ment. 
 
 * In such expectations, every one who believes in Christianity 
 must feel confident that they would be deceived. At first, 
 indeed, appearances probably would be such as to promise 
 favourably to their views. For, most of those who profess
 
 Essay xvii.] Annotations. 191 
 
 Christianity merely for fashion's sake, or in compliance with 
 the laws of their country, would soon fall away ; and would be 
 followed by many of such as wanted firmness to support ridi- 
 cule, or the disfavour of those in power. But after a time the 
 progress of irreligion would be found to have come to a stand. 
 When the plants ' on the stony ground 5 had been all scorched 
 up, those ' on the good soil ' would be found still flourishing. 
 Sincere Christians would remain firm ; and some probably 
 would be roused to exert themselves even with increased zeal ; 
 and some apostates would be reclaimed. Complaints would 
 then be raised, that Christian preachers decried, as profane and 
 mischievous, the books put forth by authority ; and that they 
 represented the rulers as aliens from God, and men whose 
 example should be shunned. Those indeed who had imbibed the 
 true spirit of the Gospel, would not fail to inculcate, after the 
 example of the Apostles, the duty of loyal submission, even to 
 unchristian magistrates; but it is not unlikely that some 
 would even take a contrary course, and would thus help to 
 bring the imputation of sedition on Christian preaching 
 universally. 
 
 ' The rabble, again, would be likely occasionally to assail with 
 tumultuous insult and outrage, the Christians; who would in 
 consequence be represented by their enemies as occasioning 
 these tumults; especially if, as is likely, some among them did 
 not submit patiently to such usage, or even partly provoked it 
 by indiscretion. And however free the generality of the Chris- 
 tians might be from any just suspicion of a design to resort to 
 lawless violence in the cause of their religion, still it would be 
 evident that a revival and renewed diffusion of Christianity, 
 such as they were furthering, must, after it should reach a 
 certain point, endanger the continuance of power in the hands 
 then wielding it ; and that such a change of rulers would put a 
 stop to the plans which had been commenced for the ameliora- 
 tion of society. Representing then, and regarding Christianity 
 as the great obstacle to improvement, as the fruitful source of 
 civil dissensions, and as involving disaffection to the then- 
 existing government, they would see a necessity for actively 
 interfering, with a view (not indeed like religious persecutors, 
 to the salvation of souls, but) to the secular welfare of their 
 subjects, and the security and prosperity of the civil com-
 
 Of Superstition. [Essay xvii. 
 
 munity. They would feel themselves accordingly (to say nothing 
 of any angry passions that might intrude) bound in duty to 
 prohibit the books, the preaching, and the assemblies of Chris- 
 tians. The Christians would then, in violation of the law, 
 circulate Bibles clandestinely, and hold their assemblies in 
 cellars, and on sequestered heaths. Coercion would of course 
 become necessary to repress these (as they would then be) 
 
 illegal acts. And next but I need not proceed any 
 
 further; for I find I have been ^giving almost an exact descrip- 
 tion of the state of things when the Christian Churches were 
 spreading in the midst of Heathenism. And yet I have only 
 been following up the conjectures, which no one (believing in 
 Christianity) could fail to form, who was but tolerably acquainted 
 with human nature. For ' such transactions/ says the great 
 historian of Greece, 'take place, and always will take place 
 (though varied in form, and in degree of violence, by circum- 
 stances), as long as human nature remains the same/ 1 Never 
 can we be secured from the recurrence of the like, but by the 
 implantation of some principle which is able to purify, to reno- 
 vate, to convert that nature ; in short, to ( CREATE THE NEW 
 MAN." Christianity, often as its name has been blazoned on 
 the banners of the persecutor Christianity, truly understood, 
 as represented in the writings of its founders, and honestly 
 applied, furnishes a preventive the only permanently effectual 
 preventive, of the spirit of persecution. For, as with fraudu- 
 lent, so it is also with coercive, measures employed in matters 
 pertaining to religion : we must not expect that the generality 
 will be so far-sighted, as always to perceive their ultimate inex- 
 pediency in each particular case that may occur ; they will be 
 tempted to regard the peculiar circumstances of this or that 
 emergency as constituting an exception to the general rule, and 
 calling for a departure from the general principle. Whereas 
 the plainest Christian, when he has once ascertained, as he 
 easily may, if he honestly consult the Scriptures, what the will 
 of God is, in this point, will walk boldly forward in the path 
 of his duty, though he may not see at every turn whither it is 
 leading him ; and with full faith in the divine wisdom, will 
 
 1 Tbucyd. B. iii. c. 82. * Eph. iv. 24.
 
 Essay xvii.] Annotations. 193 
 
 be ready, in pious confidence, to leave events in the hands of 
 Providence/ 1 
 
 ' The master of superstition is the people.' 
 
 Bacon has here shown that he perceived what is too fre- 
 quently overlooked the real origin of priestcraft. I take leave 
 to quote again from the Errors of Romanism. ' We are accus- 
 tomed to hear much of priestcraft of the subtle arts of de- 
 signing men, who imposed on the simplicity of an ignorant 
 people, and persuaded them to believe that they, the priests, 
 alone understood the nature of the Deity the proper mode in 
 which to propitiate Him and the mysterious doctrines to 
 which the others were to give their implicit assent; and the 
 poor deluded people are represented as prevailed on against 
 their better judgment, by the sophistry, and promises, and 
 threats of these crafty impostors, to make them the keepers of 
 their consciences their mediators, and substitutes in the service 
 of God, and their despotic spiritual rulers. 
 
 ' There is undoubtedly much truth in such a representation ; 
 but it leaves on the mind an erroneous impression, because it is 
 (at the utmost) only half the truth. 
 
 ' If, indeed, in any country, priests had been Beings of a 
 different species or a distinct caste, as in some of the Pagan 
 nations where the priesthood is hereditary; if this race had 
 been distinguished from the people by intellectual superiority 
 and moral depravity, and if the people had been sincerely de- 
 sirous of knowing, and serving, and obeying God for themselves, 
 but had been persuaded by these demons in human form that 
 this was impossible, and that the laity must trust them to per- 
 form what was requisite, in their stead, and submit implicitly 
 to their guidance, then, indeed, there would be ground for 
 regarding priestcraft as altogether the work of the priests, and 
 in no degree of the people. But we should remember, that in 
 every age and country (even where they were, as the Romish 
 priests were not, a distinct caste), priests must have been mere 
 men, of like passions with their brethren ; and though some- 
 times they might have, on the whole, a considerable intellectual 
 
 1 Essay ' On Persecution,' 3rd series. 
 O
 
 194 Of Superstition. [Essay xvii. 
 
 superiority, yet it must always have been impossible to delude 
 men into the reception of such gross absurdities, if they had 
 not found in them a readiness nay, a craving for delusion. 
 The reply which is recorded of a Romish priest, is (not in the 
 sight of God indeed, but), as far as regards any complaint on 
 the part of the laity, a satisfactory defence ; when taxed with 
 some of the monstrous impostures of his Church, his answer 
 was ' The people wish to be deceived ; and let them be de- 
 ceived/ 1 Such, indeed, was the case of Aaron, and similar the 
 defence he offered, for making the Israelites an image, at their 
 desire. Let it not be forgotten, that the first recorded instance 
 of departure from purity of worship, as established by the reve- 
 lation to the Israelites, was forced on the priest by the people. 
 
 ' The truth is, mankind have an innate propensity, as to 
 other errors, so, to that of endeavouring to serve God by proxy; 
 to commit to some distinct Order of men the care of their 
 religious concerns, in the same manner as they confide the care 
 of their bodily health to the Physician, and of their legal 
 transactions to the Lawyer; deeming it sufficient to follow 
 implicitly their directions, without attempting themselves to 
 become acquainted with the mysteries of medicine or of law. 
 For, Man, except when unusually depraved, retains enough of 
 the image of his Maker, to have a natural reverence for reli- 
 gion, and a desire that God should be worshipped ; but, through 
 the corruption of his nature, his heart is (except when divinely 
 purified) too much alienated from God to take delight in 
 serving Him. Hence the disposition men have ever shown, to 
 substitute the devotion of the priest for their own ; to leave the 
 duties of piety in his hands, and to let him serve God in their 
 stead. This disposition is not so much the consequence, as 
 itself the origin of priestcraft. The Romish hierarchy did but 
 take advantage from time to time of this natural propensity, by 
 ingrafting successively on its system such practices and points 
 of doctrine as favoured it, and which were naturally converted 
 into a source of profit and influence to the priesthood. Hence 
 sprung among other instances of what Bacon calls ' the strata- 
 gems of prelates for their own ambition and lucre/ the gradual 
 transformation of the Christian Minister the Presbyter into 
 
 1 ' Populus vult decipi, et decipiatur.'
 
 Essay xvii.] Annotations. 195 
 
 the sacrificing Priest, the Hiereus (in Latin, ' sacerdos,' as the 
 Romanists call theirs) of the Jewish and Pagan religions. 
 Hence sprung the doctrine of the necessity of Confession to a 
 priest, and of the efficacy of the Penance he enjoins, and of the 
 Absolution he bestows. These corruptions crept in one by one ; 
 originating for the most part with an ignorant and depraved 
 people, but connived at, cherished, consecrated, and successively 
 established, by a debased and worldly-minded Ministry; and 
 modified by them just so far as might best favour the views of 
 their secular ambition. The system thus gradually compacted, 
 was not like Mahometism the deliberate contrivance of a 
 designing impostor. Mahomet did indeed most artfully accom- 
 modate his system to Man's nature, but did not wait for the 
 gradual and spontaneous operations of human nature to produce 
 it. He reared at once the standard of proselytism, and im- 
 posed on his followers a code of doctrines and laws ready 
 framed for their reception. The tree which he planted did 
 indeed find a congenial soil ; but he planted it at once with its 
 trunk full formed and its branches displayed. The Romish 
 system, on the contrary, rose insensibly, like a young plant 
 from the seed, making a progress scarcely perceptible from year 
 to year, till at length it had fixed its roots deeply in the soil, 
 and spread its baneful shade far around. 
 
 ' Infecunda quidem, sed laeta et fortia surgunt, 
 Quippe solo natura subest j 1 
 
 it was the natural offspring of man's frail and corrupt character, 
 and it needed no sedulous culture. It had its source in human 
 passions, not checked and regulated by those who ought to have 
 been ministers of the Gospel, but who, on the contrary, were 
 ever ready to indulge and encourage men's weakness and wicked- 
 ness, provided they could turn it to their own advantage. The 
 good seed ' fell among thorns ; ' which, being fostered by those 
 who should have been occupied in rooting them out, not only 
 1 sprang up with it,' but finally choked and overpowered it. 
 
 ' In all superstition wise men follow fools ; and arguments are 
 fitted to practice in a reversed order' 
 
 ' It is a mistake, and a very common, and practically not 
 unimportant one, to conclude that the origin of each tenet or 
 
 o a
 
 jp5 Of Superstition. [Essay xvii. 
 
 practice is to be found in those arguments or texts which are 
 urged in support of it ; that they furnish the cause, on the 
 removal of which the effects will cease of course ; and that when 
 once those reasonings are exploded, and those texts rightly ex- 
 plained, all danger is at an end, of falling into similar errors. 
 
 < The fact is, that in a great number of instances, and by no 
 means exclusively in questions connected with religion, the 
 erroneous belief or practice has arisen first, and the theory has 
 been devised afterwards for its support. Into whatever opinions 
 or conduct men are led by any human propensities, they seek 
 to defend and justify these by the best arguments they can 
 frame : and then, assigning (as they often do in perfect sincerity) 
 these arguments as the cause of their adopting such notions, 
 they misdirect the course of our inquiry ; and thus the chance 
 (however small it may be at any rate) of rectifying their errors, 
 is diminished. For if these be in reality traceable to some 
 deep-seated principle of our nature, as soon as ever one false 
 foundation on which they have been placed is removed, another 
 will be substituted ; as soon as one theory is proved untenable, 
 a new one will be devised in its place. And in the mean time, 
 we ourselves are liable to be lulled into a false security against 
 errors whose real origin is to be sought in the universal pro- 
 pensities of human nature. 
 
 'Not only Romanism, but almost every system of supersti- 
 tion, in order to be rightly understood, should be (if I may so 
 speak) read backwards. To take an instance, in illustration 
 of what has been said, from the mythological system of the 
 ancients : if we inquire why the rites of sepulture were regarded 
 by them as of such vast importance, we are told, that according 
 to their system of religious belief, the souls of those whose 
 bodies were unburied were doomed to wander disconsolate 
 on the banks of the river Styx. Such a tenet, supposing it 
 previously established, was undoubtedly well calculated to pro- 
 duce or increase the feeling in question ; but is it not much the 
 more probable supposition, that the natural anxiety about our 
 mortal remains, which has been felt in every Age and Country, 
 and which many partake of who are at a loss to explain and 
 justify it, drove them to imagine and adopt the theory which 
 gave a rational appearance to feelings and practices already 
 existing ?
 
 Essay xvii.] Annotations. 197 
 
 1 And the same principle will apply to the greater part of 
 the Romish errors ; the cause assigned for each of them will in 
 general be found to be in reality its effect, the arguments by 
 which it is supported, to have gained currency from men's par- 
 tiality for the conclusion. It is thus that we must explain 
 what is at first sight so great a paradox : the vast difference of 
 effect apparently produced in minds of no contemptible powers, 
 by the same arguments, the frequent inefficacy of the most 
 cogent reasonings, and the hearty satisfaction with which the 
 most futile are often listened to and adopted. Nothing is in 
 general easier than to convince one who is prepared and 
 desirous to be convinced ; or to gain any one's full approbation 
 of arguments tending to a conclusion he has already adopted; 
 or to refute triumphantly in his eyes any objections brought 
 against what he is unwilling to doubt. An argument which 
 shall have made one convert, or even' settled one really doubting 
 mind, though it is not of course necessarily a sound argument, 
 will have accomplished more than one which receives the 
 unhesitating assent and loud applause of thousands who had 
 already embraced, or were predisposed to embrace, the con- 
 clusion.' ' -;.' 
 
 ' It is of great practical importance to trace, as far as we are 
 able, each error to its real source. For instance, if we suppose 
 the doctrine of Transubstantiation to have in fact arisen from the 
 misinterpretation of the text, we shall expect to remove the 
 error by showing reasons why the passage should be understood 
 differently : a very reasonable expectation, where the doctrine 
 has sprung from the misinterpretation, but quite otherwise where, 
 as in this case, the misinterpretation has sprung from the doctrine. 
 And that it has so sprung, besides the intrinsic improbability 
 of men being led by the words in question to believe in Tran- 
 substantiation, we have the additional proof that the passage 
 was before the eyes of the whole Christian world for ten cen- 
 turies before the doctrine was thought of. 
 
 ' Another exemplification of this principle may be found in 
 the origin of the belief in Romish supremacy and infallibility. 
 This had been gradually established before it was distinctly 
 
 1 Errors of Romanism, ycA edition, Essay IV. 2, pp. 186-189.
 
 1 98 Of Superstition. [Essay xvii. 
 
 claimed. Men did not submit to the authority, because they 
 were convinced it was of divine origin, and infallible; but 
 on the contrary, they were convinced of this, because they were 
 disposed and accustomed so to submit. The tendency to ' teach 
 for doctrines the commandments of men/ and to acquiesce in 
 such teaching, is not the effect, but the cause, of their being 
 taken for the commandments of God/ 1 
 
 ' The causes of superstition are pleasing and sensual rites and 
 ceremonies ' 
 
 ' The attributing of some sacred efficacy to the performance 
 of an outward act, or the presence of some material object, 
 without any inward devotion of the heart being required to ac- 
 company it, is one of the most prevailing characteristics of super- 
 stition. It is found, at least more or less, in most species of it. 
 The tendency to disjoin religious observances (that is, what are 
 intended to be such), from heartfelt and practical religion, is one 
 of the most besetting evils of our corrupt nature. Now, no one 
 can fail to perceive how opposite this is to true piety. Empty 
 forms not only supersede piety by standing in its place, but 
 gradually alter the habits of the mind, and render it unfit for 
 the exercise of genuine pious sentiment. Even the natural 
 food of religion (if I may so speak) is thus converted into its 
 poison. Our very prayers, for example, and our perusal of the 
 holy Scriptures, become superstitious, in proportion as any one 
 expects them to operate as a charm attributing efficacy to the 
 mere words, while his feelings and thoughts are not occupied in 
 what he is doing. 2 
 
 ' Every religious ceremony or exercise, however well calcu- 
 lated, in itself, to improve the heart, is liable, as I have said, 
 thus to degenerate into a mere form, and consequently to 
 become superstitious : but in proportion as the outward obser- 
 vances are the more complex and operose, and the more un- 
 meaning or unintelligible, the more danger is there of supersti- 
 tiously attaching a sort of magical efficacy to the bare outward 
 act, independent of mental devotion. If, for example, even our 
 prayers are liable, without constant watchfulness, to become a 
 
 1 Errors of Somanism, yrA edition, Essay IV. 2, pp. 192, 193. 
 3 See Essays, (2nd series,) Essay X. ' On Self-denial.'
 
 Essay xvii.] Annotations. 199 
 
 superstitious form, by our r honouring God with our lips, while 
 our heart is far from Him/ this result is almost unavoidable 
 when the prayers are recited in an unknown tongue, and with 
 a prescribed number of ' vain repetitions/ crossings, and telling 
 of beads. And men of a timorous mind, having once taken up 
 a wrong notion of what religion consists in, seek a refuge from 
 doubt and anxiety, a substitute for inward piety, and, too often, 
 a compensation for an evil life, in an endless multiplication of 
 superstitious observances ; of pilgrimages, sprinklings with 
 holy water, veneration of relics, and the like. And hence the 
 enormous accumulation of superstitions, which, in the course 
 of many centuries, gradually arose in the Romish and Greek 
 Churches/ 
 
 But were there no such thing in existence as a corrupt 
 church, we are not to suppose that we are safe from supersti- 
 tion. There are many things which cannot be dispensed, 
 that, though not superstitious in themselves, may be abused 
 into occasions of superstition. Such are the Sacraments; 
 Prayer, public and private ; instructions from the Ministers of 
 the word ; buildings and days set apart, either wholly or partly, 
 for these purposes. ( In a word where anything, not in itself 
 moral or religious, is connected with religion, superstition 
 fastens upon that, because it is ' worldly/ and lets the rest go. 
 Thus, when God's justice is described in Scripture as vengeance, 
 to show us that it pursues the offender as sternly as a revengeful 
 man would pursue his enemy, superstition fastens on the thought 
 of God's thirsting for revenge, and regards sin only as an offence 
 which provokes in God a desire of inflicting pain on somebody. 
 Again, when water, or bread and wine, are made signs of the 
 power of the Holy Spirit, or of Christ's body and blood sacri- 
 ficed for us, superstition fastens on the water, or the bread and 
 wine, as if they were the things themselves. "When a place 
 must be set apart for divine worship, superstition fancies that 
 God dwells in that place, rather than in the hearts of the wor- 
 shippers. When pictures or images of holy persons are set 
 before us, superstition fastens on the image as if it were the 
 reality. "When rites and ceremonies are used to express our 
 devotion, superstition makes them our devotion. When prayers 
 have to be said, superstition makes the saying them, prayer. 
 When good books are to be perused, superstition makes the
 
 2OO Of Superstition. [Essay xvii. 
 
 perusal, edification. When works are to be done from a good 
 motive, superstition makes the outward action, the good works. 
 "When sufferings for righteousness' sake are commended, super- 
 stition takes the suffering for merit; and so in many other 
 instances. It seizes ever on the outward on that which is not 
 moral; on that which strikes the senses or the imagination 
 and fastens there ; while true religion, on the contrary, calls on 
 us to ' lift up our heart ' from the earthly to the heavenly, and 
 use the outward as a help to the ' inward." l 
 
 ' Too great reverence of traditions, over-loading the Church' 
 
 Wonderful is the readiness with which many persons ac- 
 quiesce in tradition, and rest satisfied with an appeal to a 
 standard in all respects so vague and uncertain. For, besides 
 the uncertainty of traditions which are received in the Church 
 of Rome, there is an' additional uncertainty to each individual 
 Roman Catholic, what are so received. If a man when told, 
 1 Such is the tradition of the Church/ should ask, ' how did you 
 learn that ?' it will be found, by pushing such inquiries, that 
 the priest learnt it from a book, which reports that something 
 has been reported by one of the ancient fathers as having been 
 reported to him as believed by those who had heard it reported 
 that the Apostles taught it. So that, to found faith on an ap- 
 peal to such tradition, is to base it on the report of a report 
 of a report of a report. The discussions one sometimes 
 meets with, as to the f credibility of traditions' generally, 
 are as idle as Hume's, respecting the credit due to testimony. 
 One might as well inquire, ' What degree of regard should be 
 paid to books?' Common sense would dictate in reply, 
 'What book?' as also 'Whose testimony? what tradition?' 
 As each particular testimony, and each particular book, just so 
 should each alleged tradition be examined on its own merits. 
 
 ' Tradition is not the interpreter of Scripture, but Scripture 
 is the interpreter of tradition. It is foolish to say that tradi- 
 tion is to be held to, rather than Scripture, because tradition 
 was before Scripture ; since the Scriptures (that is, written re- 
 cords) were used on purpose, after traditions had been tried, to 
 
 1 Cautions for the Times, No. V. p. 8l.
 
 Essay xvii.] Annotations. 201 
 
 guard against the uncertainties of mere tradition. Scripture is 
 the test ; and yet many defend oral tradition on the ground 
 that we have the Scriptures themselves by tradition. Would 
 they think, that because they could trust most servants to de- 
 liver a letter, however long or important, therefore they could 
 trust them to deliver its contents in a message by word of 
 mouth ? Take a familiar case. A footman brings you a letter 
 from a friend, upon whose word you can perfectly rely, giving 
 an account of something that has happened to himself, and the 
 exact account of which you are greatly concerned to know. 
 While you are reading and answering the letter, the footman 
 goes into the kitchen, and there gives your cook an account of 
 the same thing ; which, he says, he overheard the upper servants 
 at home talking over, as related to them by the valet, who said 
 he had it from your friend's son's own lips. The cook relates 
 the story to your groom, and he, in turn, tells you. Would you 
 judge of that story by the letter, or the letter by the story ?' J 
 
 Well might Bacon speak of the ' over-loading' by tradition; 
 for it does over-load, whether according to the pretended dis- 
 tinction it be made co-ordinate with, or subordinate to, Scrip- 
 ture. To make these countless traditions the substitute for 
 Scripture by offering them to the people as proofs of doctrine, 
 is something like offering to pay a large bill of exchange in 
 farthings, which, you know, it would be intolerably troublesome 
 to count or carry. And tradition, when made subordinate to, 
 and dependent on, Scripture, is made so much in the same 
 way that some parasite plants are. dependent on the trees that 
 support them. The parasite at first clings to, and rests on, the 
 tree, which it gradually overspreads with its own foliage, till by 
 little and little, it weakens and completely smothers it. 
 
 ' Miraturque novas frondes, et rion sua porna.' 
 
 But, with regard to this distinction attempted to be set up 
 between co-ordinate and subordinate tradition, it is to be ob- 
 served, that, ' if any human comment or interpretation is to be 
 received implicitly and without appeal, it is placed practically, 
 as far as relates to everything except a mere question of dignity, 
 on a level with Scripture. Among the Parliamentarians at the 
 
 Cautions for the Times, ist edition, No. XI. pp. 20, 21.
 
 2O2 Of Superstition. [Essay xvii. 
 
 time of the Civil War, there were many at first a great 
 majority who professed to obey the King's commands, as 
 notified to them by Parliament, and levied forces in the King's 
 name, against his person. If any one admitted Parliament to 
 be the sole and authoritative interpreter and expounder of the 
 regal commands, and this without any check from any other 
 Power, it is plain that he virtually admitted the sovereignty of 
 that Parliament, just as much as if he had recognized their 
 formal deposition of the King/ 1 
 
 ' The taking aim at divine matters by human' 
 
 The desire of prying into mysteries relative to the invisible 
 world, but which have no connexion with practice, is a charac- 
 teristic of human nature ; and to it may be traced the immense 
 mass of presumptuous speculations about things unrevealed, re- 
 specting God and his designs, and his decrees, ' secret to us/* 
 as well as all the idle legends of various kinds respecting wonder- 
 working saints, &c. The sanction afforded to these by persons 
 who did not themselves believe them, sprang from a dishonest 
 pursuit of the expedient rather than the true ; but it is probable 
 that the far greater part of such idle tales had not their origin 
 in any deep and politic contrivance, but in men's natural passion 
 for what is marvellous, and readiness to cater for that passion in 
 each other; in the universal fondness of the human mind for 
 speculative knowledge respecting things curious and things 
 hidden, rather than (what alone the Scriptures supply) practical 
 knowledge respecting things which have a reference to our wants. 
 It was thus the simplicity of the Gospel was corrupted by ' mix- 
 ture of imaginations/ When the illumination from Heaven 
 the rays of revelation failed to shed the full light men desired, 
 they brought to the dial-plate the lamp of human philosophy. 
 
 * Men think to do best if they go furthest from the superstition 
 formerly received ; therefore care would be had that the good 
 be not taken away with the bad.' 
 
 There is a natural tendency to ' mistake reverse of right for 
 
 1 Kingdom of Christ, 4 th edition, Essay II. 26, p. 216. 3 See i;th Article.
 
 Essay xvii.] Annotations. 203 
 
 wrong.' It is not enough, therefore, to act upon the trite 
 familiar rule of guarding especially against the error which on 
 each occasion, or in each place, you find men especially liable 
 to; but you must remember, at the same time, this other cau- 
 tion, not less important and far more likely to be overlooked 
 to guard against a tendency to a reaction against the proneness 
 to rush from one extreme into the opposite. 
 
 One cause of this is, that a painful and odious association is 
 sometimes formed in men's minds with anything at all connected 
 with that from which they have suffered much ; and thus they 
 are led to reject the good and the evil together. This is figured 
 in the Tale of a Tub, by Jack's eagerness to be ' as unlike that 
 rogue Peter as possible ;' and he accordingly tears off the tail 
 of his coat, and flings it away, because it had been overlaid 
 with lace. 
 
 ' Since almost every erroneous system contains truth blended 
 with falsehood, hence its tendency usually is, first, to recom- 
 mend the falsehood on account of the truth combined with it, 
 and afterwards, to bring the truth into contempt or odium, on 
 account of the intermixture of falsehood. 
 
 ' In no point is the record of past times more instructive to 
 those capable of learning from other experience than their o.wn, 
 than in what relates to the history of reactions. 
 
 ' It has been often remarked by geographers that a river 
 flowing through a level country of soft alluvial soil, never keeps 
 a straight course, but winds regularly to and fro, in the form 
 of the letter S many times repeated. And a geographer, on 
 looking at the course of any stream as marked on a map, can at 
 once tell whether it flows along a plain (like the river Meander, 
 which has given its name to such windings) or through a rocky 
 and hilly country. It is found, indeed, that if a straight 
 channel be cut for any stream in a plain consisting of tolerably 
 soft soil, it never will long continue straight, unless artificially 
 kept so, but becomes crooked, and increases its windings more 
 and more every year. The cause is, that any little wearing 
 away of the bank in the softest part of the soil, on one side, 
 occasions a set of the stream against this hollow, which in- 
 creases it, and at the same time drives the water aslant against 
 the opposite bank a little lower down. This wears away that 
 bank also ; and thus the stream is again driven against a part
 
 204 Of Superstition. [Essay xvii. 
 
 of the first bank, still lower ; and so on, till by the wearing 
 away of the banks at these points on each side, and the deposit 
 of mud (gradually becoming dry land) in the comparatively still 
 water between them, the course of the stream becomes sinuous, 
 and its windings increase more and more. 
 
 ( And even thus, in human affairs, we find alternate move- 
 ments, in nearly opposite directions, taking place from time to 
 time, and generally bearing some proportion to each other in 
 respect of the violence of each ; even as the highest flood-tide 
 is succeeded by the lowest ebb. 
 
 ' We find in the case of political affairs, that the' most 
 servile submission to privileged classes, and the grossest abuses 
 of power by these, have been the precursors of the wildest 
 ebullitions of popular fury, of the overthrow indiscriminately 
 of ancient institutions, good and bad, and of the most turbu- 
 lent democracy; generally proportioned, in its extravagance 
 and violence, to the degree of previous oppression and previous 
 degradation. And again, we find that whenever men have 
 become heartily wearied of licentious anarchy, their eagerness 
 has been proportionably great to embrace the opposite extreme 
 of rigorous despotism ; like shipwrecked mariners clinging to a 
 bare and rugged rock as a refuge from the waves. 
 
 ' And when we look to the history of religious changes, the 
 prospect is similar. The formalism, the superstition, and the 
 priestcraft which prevailed for so many ages throughout Chris- 
 tendom, led, in many instances, by a natural reaction, to the 
 wildest irregularities of fanaticism or profaneness. We find 
 antinomian licentiousness, in some instances, the successor of 
 the pretended merit of what were called ' good works ;' in 
 others, the rejection altogether of the Christian Sacraments, 
 succeeding the superstitious abuse of them; the legitimate 
 claims of every visible Church utterly disowned by the de- 
 scendants of those who had groaned under a spiritual tyranny ; 
 pretensions to individual personal Inspiration, set up by those 
 who had revolted from that tyranny ; and in short, every variety 
 of extravagance that was most contrasted with the excesses and 
 abuses that had before prevailed/ 
 
 Such are the lessons which Reason and wide Experience 
 would teach to those who ' have ears to hear/ and which the 
 wisest men in various ages have laboured, and generally laboured
 
 Essay xvii.] Annotations. 205 
 
 in vain, to inculcate. For, all Reason, all Experience, and the 
 authority of all the wise, are too often powerless when opposed 
 to excited party-spirit. 1 
 
 We cannot, then, be too much on our guard against re- 
 actions, lest we rush from one fault into another contrary fault. 
 We should remember also that all admixture of truth with 
 error has a double danger : some admit both together ; others 
 reject both. And hence, nothing is harmless that is mistaken 
 either for a truth or for a virtue. 
 
 In no point, we may be assured, is our spiritual Enemy more 
 vigilant. He is ever ready not merely to tempt us with the 
 unmixed poison of known sin, but to corrupt even our food, 
 and to taint even our medicine, with the venom of his false- 
 hood. For, religion is a medicine of the soul ; it is the designed 
 and appropriate preventive and remedy for the evils of our 
 nature. The subtle Tempter well knows that no other allure- 
 ments to sin would be of much avail, if this medicine were 
 assiduously applied, and applied in unadulterated purity; and 
 he knows that superstition is the specific poison which may be 
 the most easily blended with true religion, and which will the 
 most completely destroy its efficacy. .. 
 
 It is for us then to take heed that the ' light which is in us 
 be not darkness ;' that our religion be kept pure from the 
 noxious admixture of superstition ; and it is for us to observe 
 the errors of others with a view to our own correction, and to 
 our own preservation, instead of contemplating ' the mote that 
 is in our brother's eye, while we behold not the beam that is in 
 our own eye/ Our conscience, if we carefully regulate, and 
 diligently consult it, will be ready, after we have seen and con- 
 demned (which is no hard task) the faults of our neighbour, to 
 furnish us (where there is need) with that salutary admonition 
 which the self-blinded King of Israel received from the mouth 
 of the Prophet, ' Thou art the man/ 2 
 
 1 See Cautions for the Times, No. XIX. 
 
 2 Essay (4th series) ' On Superstition. 3
 
 ESSAY XVIII. OF TRAVEL. 
 
 HP RAVEL, in the younger sort, is a part of education ; in the 
 JL 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 1 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 havens and harbours, 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, ex- 
 changes, burses, 2 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 
 
 1 Allow. Approve. ' The Lord allowefh the righteous.' Psalms. 
 
 s Burse. Exchange; bourse. 'So called from the sign of a purse being 
 anciently set over the places where merchants met.) ' Fraternities and companies 
 I approve of, such as merchants' burses.' Burton.
 
 Essay xviii.] Of Travel. 207 
 
 triumphs/ masks, feasts, weddings, funerals, capital executions, 
 and such shows, men need not be put in mind of them; yet 
 they are not to be neglected. If you will have a young man 
 to put his travel into a little room, and in short time to gather 
 much, this you must do : first, as was said, he must have some 
 entrance into the language before he goeth ; then he must have 
 such a servant, or tutor, as knoweth the country, as was like- 
 wise 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 de- 
 serveth, 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 2 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 favour 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 secre- 
 taries, 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 mis- 
 tresses, healths, place, and words : and let a man beware how 
 he keepeth company with choleric and quarrelsome persons; 
 for they will engage him into 3 their own quarrels. When a 
 traveller returneth home, let him not leave the countries where 
 he hath travelled altogether behind him, but maintain a corre- 
 
 1 Triumphs. Public shows of any kind. 
 
 ' Hold those justs and triumphs.' Shakespere. 
 * Adamant. For loadstone. 
 
 ' You drew me, you hard-hearted adamant.' Shakespere. 
 
 5 Into. In. ' How much more may education induce by custom good habits 
 into a reasonable creature.' Locke.
 
 2o8 Of Travel. [Essay xviii. 
 
 spondence by letters with those of his acquaintance which are 
 of most worth ; and let his travel appear rather in his dis- 
 course, than in 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 1 he hath learned abroad into the customs of his 
 own country. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' Travel in the younger sort is a part of education ; in the elder 
 a part of experience.' 
 
 The well-known tale for young people, in the Evenings at 
 Home, of ' Eyes and no Eyes/ might be applied to many 
 travellers of opposite habits. 
 
 But there are, moreover, not a few who may be said to be 
 ' one-eyed ' travellers ; who see a great deal of some particular 
 class of objects, and are blind to all others. One, for example, 
 will have merely the eye of a landscape-painter ; another, of a 
 geologist, or a botanist ; another, of a politician ; and so on. 
 And the way in which some men's views are in this way limited, 
 is sometimes very whimsical. For instance A. B. was a man of 
 superior intelligence and extensive reading, especially in ancient 
 history, which was his favourite study. He travelled on the 
 Continent, and especially in Italy, with an eager desire to verify 
 the localities of celebrated battles and other transactions re- 
 corded by the Greek and Roman historians : and he succeeded 
 admirably in fixing on the exact spot of almost every feat per- 
 formed by Hannibal. And when these researches, in each 
 place, were completed, he hurried away without having, or 
 seeking, any intercourse with any of the people now inhabiting 
 Italy, or thinking it worth while to make any inquiries as to 
 their character and social condition ; having set out with the 
 
 1 That. What ; that which. See page 82.
 
 Essay xviii.] Annotations. 209 
 
 conviction that they were, and ever must be, quite unworthy of 
 notice ; and having, of course, left Italy with the same opinion 
 on that point, with which he entered it ; knowing as much of 
 its inhabitants as of those in the interior of Africa; only, with 
 the difference that, concerning the latter, he was aware of his 
 own ignorance, and had formed no opinion at all. 
 
 And travellers who do seek for knowledge on any point, are 
 to be warned against hasty induction, and rash generalization, 
 and consequent presumptuous conclusions. For instance, a lady 
 who had passed six weeks in Jamaica, in the house of a friend, 
 whom she described as eminently benevolent, and remarkably 
 kind to his slaves, spoke with scorn of any one who had not been 
 in the West Indies, and who doubted whether slaves were always 
 well treated. And Goldsmith, who had travelled on the Con- 
 tinent, decided that the higher classes were better off in Repub- 
 lics, but the lower classes in absolute Monarchies. Had he 
 lived a few years longer he might have seen the French popu- 
 lace, goaded to madness by their intense misery under the 
 monarchy, rushing into that awful Revolution. 
 
 During the short reign of Louis the Eighteenth, at his first 
 restoration, a letter was received (by a person who afterwards 
 regretted not having kept it as a curious document) from the 
 nephew of one of our then ministers, saying that all the tra- 
 vellers from France with whom he had conversed, agreed in the 
 conviction that the Bourbon Government was firmly fixed, and 
 was daily gaining strength. The letter was dated on the very 
 day that Buonaparte was sailing from Elba ! and in a few 
 days after, the Bourbons were expelled without a struggle. 
 Those travellers must surely have belonged to the class of the 
 one-eyed. 
 
 It often happens that a man seeks, and obtains, much inter- 
 course with the people of the country in which he travels ; but 
 falls in with only one particular set, whom he takes for repre- 
 sentatives of the whole nation. Accordingly, to Bacon's admo- 
 nition about procuring letters of introduction, we should add a 
 caution as to the point of 'from whom ?' or else the traveller 
 may be consigned, as it were, to persons of some particular 
 party, who will forward him to others, of their own party, in 
 the next city, and so on through the chief part of Europe. 
 And two persons who may have been thus treated, by those of 
 
 p
 
 2io Of Travel. [Essay xviii. 
 
 opposite parties, may perhaps return from corresponding tours, 
 with as opposite impressions of the people of the countries 
 they have visited, as the knights in the fable ; of whom one had 
 seen only the silver side of the shield, and the other only the 
 golden. Both will perhaps record quite faithfully all they have 
 seen and heard ; and one will have reported a certain nation as 
 full of misery and complaint, and ripe for revolt, when the 
 other has found them prosperous, sanguine, and enthusiastically 
 loyal. 
 
 In the days when travelling by post-chaise was common, 
 there were usually certain lines of inns on all the principal 
 roads; a series of good, and a series of inferior ones, each in 
 connexion all the way along ; so that if you once get into the 
 worse line, you could not easily get out of it to the journey's 
 end. The ' White Hart' of one town would drive you almost 
 literally to the ' White Lion* of the next ; and so on, all the 
 way; so that of two travellers by post from London to Exeter 
 or York, the one would have had nothing but bad horses, bad 
 dinners, and bad beds, and the other, very good. This is analo- 
 gous to what befalls a traveller in any new country, with respect 
 to the impressions he receives, if he falls into the hands of a 
 party. They consign him, as it were, to those allied with them, 
 and pass him on, from one to another, all in the same connexion, 
 each showing him and telling him, just what suits the party, 
 and concealing from him everything else. 
 
 This is nowhere more the case than in Ireland ; from a tour 
 in which two travellers will sometimes return, each faithfully 
 reporting what he has seen and heard, and having been told 
 perhaps nothing more than the truth on any point, but only one 
 side of the truth ; and the impressions received will be perhaps 
 quite opposite. The Irish jaunting-car, in which the passengers 
 sit back to back, is a sort of type of what befalls many tourists 
 in Ireland. Each sees a great deal, and reports faithfully what 
 he has seen, one on one side of the road, and the other on the 
 other. One will have seen all that is green, and the other, all 
 that is orange. 
 
 It often, indeed, happens that men place themselves know- 
 ingly and wilfully in the hands of a party. But sometimes 
 they are, from one cause or another, deluded into it, when they ( 
 have no such thought. This sometimes takes place through
 
 Essay xviii.] Annotations. 211 
 
 the ambiguity of words. For instance, if the designation by 
 which, in some parts of the Continent, Protestants are usually 
 known, as distinguished from Romanists, happens to be with us 
 the title denoting a certain party in a Protestant Church, a 
 foreign Protestant, coming among us, or holding intercourse 
 with us, is likely to throw himself into the arms of that party 
 whom, from the name, he supposes to comprise all who agree 
 with him in religion. 
 
 P 2
 
 ESSAY XIX. OF EMPIRE. 
 
 IT is a miserable state of mind to have few things to desire 
 and many things to fear ; and yet that commonly is the case 
 with kings ; who being at the highest, want matter of desire, 
 which makes their minds more languishing, and have many 
 representations of perils and shadows, which make their minds 
 the less clear. And this is one reason also of that effect which 
 the Scripture speaketh of, 'That the king's heart is inscrutable; 3l 
 for, multitudes 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 play- 
 ing 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 2 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, Dioclesian, and in our memory 
 Charles V. ; and others ; for he that is used to go forward, and 
 findeth a stop, falleth out of his own favour, and is not the 
 thing he was. 
 
 To speak now of the true temper 3 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 
 
 1 Prov. xxv. 3. 
 
 1 Stand at a stay. To stand still; not to advance. 'Affairs of state seemed 
 rather to stand at a stay than to advance or decline.' Hayward. 
 
 3 Temper. Due balance of qualities. ' Health itself is but a kind of temper, 
 gotten and preserved by a convenient mixture of contrarieties.' Arbuthnot. 
 ' Between two blades, which bears the better temper ?' Shakespere.
 
 Essay xix.] Of Empire. 213 
 
 to interchange them. The answer of Apollonius to Vespasian 
 is full of excellent instruction. Vespasian asked hirn, ' What 
 was Nero's overthrow?' He answered, ' Nero could touch and 
 tune the harp well, hut in government sometimes he used to 
 wind the pins too high, sometimes to let them down too low ;' l 
 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 for- 
 tune; 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 : ' Surit plerumque regum voluntates vehementes, 
 et inter se contrariae.' 2 For it is the solecism of power to think 
 to command the end, and yet not to endure the mean. 3 
 
 Kings have to deal with their neighbours, their wives, their 
 children, their prelates or clergy, their nobles, their second 
 nobles or gentlemen, their merchants, their commons, and their 
 men of war; 4 and from all these arise dangers, if care and cir- 
 cumspection be not used. 
 
 First, for their neighbours, there can no general rule be 
 given (the occasions are so variable), save one which ever 
 holdeth which is, that princes do keep due sentinel, that none 
 of their neighbours do overgrow so (by increase of territory, by 
 embracing of trade, by approaches, or the like), as 5 they become 
 more able to annoy them than they were ; and this is generally 
 the work of standing councils to foresee and to hinder it. 
 During that triumvirate of kings, King Henry VIII. of England, 
 
 1 Philost. Vit. ApolL Tyan. v. 28. 
 
 2 ' The will of kings is, for the most part, vehement and inconsistent.' Sallust, 
 S. J. 1 13. (Not Tacitus.) 
 
 3 Mean. Means. ' The virtuous conversation of Christians was a mean to work 
 the conversion of the heathen to Christ.' Hooker. 
 
 4 Men of war (now only applied to ships). Warriors; soldiers. 'And Saul 
 set him over the men of war' i Sam. xviii. 5. 
 
 6 As. That. See page 26.
 
 214 Of Empire. [Essay xix. 
 
 Francis I., king of France, and Charles V., emperor, there was 
 such a watch kept that none of the three could win a palm 1 of 
 ground, but the other two would straight ways 2 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 Guicciardine saith was the security of Italy), 
 made between Ferdinando, king of Naples, Lorenzius Medices, 
 and Ludovicus Sforsa, 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 pre- 
 cedent 3 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 war. 
 
 For their wives, there are cruel examples of them. Livia 
 is infamed 4 for the poisoning of her husband ; Roxolana, Soly- 
 man's wife, was the destruction of that renowned prince, Sultan 
 Mustapha, and otherwise troubled his house and succession ; 
 Edward II. of England's queen had the principal hand in the 
 deposing and murder of her husband. This kind of danger is 
 then to be feared chiefly when the wives have plots for the rais- 
 ing of their own children, or else that they be advoutresses. 5 
 
 For their children, the tragedies likewise of dangers from 
 them have been many ; and generally the entering of the 
 fathers into suspicion of their children hath been ever unfor- 
 tunate. 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 II. was thought to be supposi- 
 
 1 Palm. Sand's breadth. ' The palm, or hand's breadth, is a twenty -fourth 
 part of the stature.' Solder. 
 J Straightways. Immediately. 
 
 ' Like to a ship that having 'scap'd a tempest, 
 
 Is straightway claim'd and boarded with a pirate.' Shakespere. 
 3 Precedent. Preceding. 
 
 'Do it at once, 
 
 Or thy precedent services are all 
 But accidents unpurposed.' Shakespere. 
 
 Infamed. Infamous. ' Whosoever for any offence be infamed, by their ears 
 hang rings of gold.' Sir T. More. 
 
 ' Advoutress. Adulteress. (So called from breach of the marriage-vow.) 
 
 ' In advoutry 
 God's commandments break.' Song, 1550.
 
 Essay xix.] Of Empire. 215 
 
 titious. The destruction of Crispus, a young prince of rare 
 towardness, 1 by Constautinus 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 II. 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 dis- 
 trust, except it were where the sons were in open arras against 
 them, as was Selymus I. against Bajazet, and the three sons of 
 Henry II., 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 Beckett, archbishops of Canterbury, who, with their 
 crosiers, did almost try it with the king's sword ; and yet they 
 had to deal with stout and haughty kings William Rufus, 
 Henry I., and Henry II. The danger is not from that estate, 2 
 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 the 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 anything that he desires. I have 
 noted it in my history of King Henry VII. of England, who 
 depressed his nobility, whereupon it came to pass, that his times 
 were full of difficulties 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 3 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, 
 
 1 Towardness. Docility. ' He proved in his youth a personage of great toward- 
 ness, and such as no small hope of him was conceived.' Holinshed. 
 
 2 Estate. Order of men. ' All the estate of the elders.' Acts xxii. 5. 
 
 3 Fain. Compelled ; constrained. ' Whosoever will hear, he shall find God ; 
 whosoever will study to know, shall be a\sofain to helieve.' Hooker. 
 
 ' I was/cu to forswear it. 3 Shakespere.
 
 21 6 Of Empire. [Essay xix. 
 
 being the most immediate in authority with the common people, 
 they do best temper popular commotions. 
 
 For their merchants, they are vena porta, 1 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 which he wins in the hun- 
 dred 2 he loseth in the shire : the particular rates being increased, 
 but the total bulk of trading rather decreased. 
 
 For their commons, there is little danger from them, except 
 it be where they have great and potent heads, or where you 
 meddle with the point of religion, or their customs, or means 
 of life. 
 
 For their men of war, it is a dangerous state where they live 
 and remain in a Body, and are used to donatives, whereof we 
 see 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 pre- 
 cepts concerning kings are in effect comprehended in those two 
 remembrances: 3 'Memento quod es homo/ and 'Memento quod 
 es Deus/ or ' vice Dei' the one bridleth their power, and the 
 other their will. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON EMPIRE. 
 
 PRO. CONTBA. 
 
 'Felicitate frui, magnum bonum est; 'Quam miserum, habere nil fere, 
 
 sed earn et aliis impertiri posse, adhuc quod appetas ; infinita, quae nietuas. 
 
 majus. ' How wretched is he who has hardly 
 
 ' To enjoy happiness is a great good ; anything to hope, and many things to 
 
 but to be able to confer it also on others fear.' 
 is a greater still' 
 
 1 ' The great vein of the body.' 
 
 2 Hundred. A division of a county. 'Lands taken from the enemy were 
 divided into centuries or hundreds, and distributed amongst the soldiers.' 
 Arbuthnot. 
 
 3 ' Remember that thou art man,' and ' Remember that thou art God' or ' God's 
 vice-gerent.'
 
 Essay xix.] Annotations. 217 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' Kings have to deal with their neighbours' &c. 
 
 Some persons, pretending to superior acuteness, are accus- 
 tomed to represent the Sovereign, under the British Constitu- 
 tion, as a mere cypher, a kind of puppet, moving as the strings 
 are pulled, and possessing the semblance of power without any 
 real power. The Sovereign, they say, though called ' Supreme/ 
 can do nothing without his Ministers, who are virtually elected 
 by the people, since no Minister can hold office for more than 
 a very short time, without a majority in the House of Com- 
 mons ; the members of which are dependent on the will of 
 their constituents. The only difference, therefore, they say, 
 between our Government and that of the United States, is that 
 they elect their Premier (under the title of President) once in 
 four years, and we, as often as we think fit. 
 
 This, by the way, would of itself constitute a difference of 
 no small importance. For, everyone would see that there 
 would be a great difference between two steam-engines, one, 
 provided (as is the actual practice) with a safety-valve which is 
 forced open whenever the pressure exceeds a certain degree, and 
 not otherwise, and the other having only a vent-hole opened at 
 certain fixed times, always opened at those times, and always 
 closed during the intervals. 
 
 But this difference, though very important, is far from being the 
 sole, or the principal one. When, indeed, it happens that the public 
 will is nearly unanimous that the whole, or nearly the whole, 
 nation are bent on some point of policy, or on the appoint- 
 ment or the exclusion of a certain Ministry, a compliance with 
 their will is unavoidable. But in all cases (and these are the 
 more numerous) in which there is a division in the popular will, 
 and the opponents and supporters of certain measures or men 
 are nearly equal, the Sovereign has, as it were, the casting voice, 
 and can decide freely on the one side or on the other. Not 
 only when there is a perfect equality of strength between two 
 aspirants to office, can the Sovereign chuse whichever he will; 
 but he can even bring into office and retain in office a Ministry 
 which, if the question had been put to the vote in a popular
 
 2i8 Of Empire. [Essay xix. 
 
 election, would have been in a minority, though a very large 
 minority. 
 
 There have been in the United States several elections of 
 President, in which the candidates were so nearly equal in votes, 
 that no one can doubt that if the Americans had had the same 
 constitution as ours, the Sovereign might have fixed on either 
 as Premier. Now, this is undoubtedly a matter of practical 
 importance ; and whether it be thought a good or an evil that 
 our Sovereign should have such a power, that he does possess it, 
 and that it is no trifle, is evident. 
 
 If, therefore, our Sovereign is to be accounted a cypher, it 
 must be, not in the sense in which that metaphor is ordinarily 
 applied, but in a stricter sense. A cypher, a mere round 0, 
 stands for nothing by itself ; but adds tenfold to whatever 
 figures are placed before it. And even so, our Sovereign, if 
 standing alone, and at variance in his political views with all 
 his subjects, or nearly all of them, is powerless ; but as a sup- 
 porter of this or of that person, party, or measure, that may be 
 favoured by a considerable portion of his subjects, he may give 
 the preponderance to either. 5 is less than 6 ; but 50, i.e. 5 
 with a cypher added, is more. 
 
 And after all, the same kind of check (in a minor degree, 
 and in a less convenient form) on the power of the Sovereign, 
 must exist even under a despotism. No despot can long 
 govern completely against the will of nearly all those of his 
 subjects whether the People or the Army who possess the 
 physical force. A Dey in Barbary must have some and these 
 not inconsiderable in number to execute his commands. He 
 may, however, go on misgoverning longer than a constitutional 
 king could do ; and the check comes at last, not in the shape 
 of a remonstrance, on which he might amend, but of a bow- 
 string or a dagger. 
 
 On the whole, the degree, and the kind, of regal power, and 
 of check to that power, existing under our constitution, are 
 what the most judicious will perceive to be the best adapted to 
 give steadiness to an administration, and to moderate the 
 violence of political agitations in the most effectual way that is 
 consistent with the liberty we enjoy. ' We combine the advan- 
 tages of different forms, by having a king holding the office of 
 highest dignity, which no one of a different family can aspire
 
 Essay xix.] Annotations. 219 
 
 to, and remaining fixed, under all changes of Ministers and 
 Parliaments, and yet restrained by Parliament from oppressing 
 his subjects, or disregarding their wishes. 
 
 ' No good king will feel himself lowered in point of dignity 
 by such restraints ; but the contrary. For as it is a nobler 
 office to have the command of even a small number of men 
 than a large herd of cattle, so it is more honourable to be the 
 ruler of a free People than the absolute master of a multitude 
 of slaves. 
 
 ' And moreover, in an absolute monarchy, a wise and worthy 
 king, who had laboured hard for the welfare of his People, 
 would be grieved at the thought that some of his successors, 
 who might be foolish and tyrannical, would undo all the good 
 he had been doing. 
 
 'It should be remembered, too, that a certain degree of 
 restraint on the power of a Ruler is the best safeguard against 
 the danger of a Revolution, which might destroy his power 
 altogether ; as the experience of what has often taken place in 
 Europe, and other quarters of the world, plainly shows. 
 
 1 This is set forth in the following fable : 
 
 f ' Once on a time a paper kite : . 
 
 Was mounted to a wondrous height, 
 Where, giddy with its elevation, 
 It thus expressed self- admiration : 
 ' See how yon crowds of gazing people 
 Admire my flight above the steeple ; 
 How would they wonder if they knew 
 All that a kite like me can do ? 
 Were I but free, Pd take a flight, 
 And pierce the clouds beyond their sight ; 
 But ah ! like a poor pris'ner bound 
 My string confines me near the ground ; 
 Pd brave the eagle's towering wing, 
 Might I but fly without a string/ 
 It tugged and pull'd, while thus it spoke, 
 To break the string, at last it broke ; 
 Depriv'd at once of all its stay, 
 In vain it try'd to soar away ;
 
 22O Of Empire. [Essay xix. 
 
 Unable its own weight to bear, 
 It fluttered downward in the air ; 
 Unable its own course to guide, 
 The winds soon plung'd it in the tide. 
 Ah ! foolish kite, thou hadst no wing ; 
 How couldst thou fly without a string ? 
 Sovereigns who wish to cast away 
 Wholesome restraints upon your sway, 
 Be taught in time, that moderation 
 Will best secure your lofty station. 
 Who soars uncheck'd may find too late 
 A sudden downfall is his fate/ 
 
 f There are many persons now living who can remember the 
 time when almost all the countries of Europe, except our own, 
 were under absolute governments. Since then, most of those 
 countries have passed through, at least, one or two, and some 
 of them six or seven, violent and bloody revolutions ; and none 
 of them, even yet, have settled under a constitution which even 
 the people of those States themselves would think better than 
 ours, if as good/ l 
 
 1 This passage is from Lessons on the British Constitution, L. ii. 2.
 
 ESSAY XX. 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 counsel- 
 lors 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 the blessed 
 Son, the ' Counsellor/ 1 Solomon hath pronounced that 'in 
 counsel is stability/ a 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 
 persons, and violent counsel, for the matter. 
 
 The ancient times do set forth in figure both the incorpora- 
 tion and inseparable conjimction 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 married 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 
 ate her up, whereby he became himself with child, and was 
 delivered of Pallas armed out of his head. 3 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 
 
 1 Isaiah, ix. 6. s Prov. xx. 18. 3 Hesiod. Theog. 886.
 
 222 Of Counsel. [Essay xx. 
 
 their council, and grow ripe and ready to be brought forth, that 
 then they suffer not their council to go through with the reso- 
 lution * 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 coun- 
 selled, and more for the good of them that counsel, than 
 of him that is counselled for which inconveniences, the doc- 
 trine of Italy, and practice of France, in some kings' times, 
 hath introduced cabinet councils 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 J of their affairs comes not from themselves : 
 and as for cabinet councils, it may be their motto, ' Plenus 
 rimarum sum.' 3 One futile 4 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, be- 
 
 1 Resolution. Final decision. 
 
 ' I* the progress of this business, 
 Ere a determinate resolution, 
 The bishops did require a respite.' Shakespere. 
 
 * Unsecreting. The disclosing; the divulging. Shakespere has the adjective 
 ' unsecret :' 
 
 ' Why have I blabbed ? Who should be true to us 
 When we are so unsecret to ourselves?' Shakespere. 
 
 3 ' Full of chinks am I.' Ter. Eun. 1. 1 1, 25. 
 
 4 Futile. Talkative. See page 82.
 
 Essay xx.] Of Counsel. 223 
 
 sides the secrecy, they commonly go on constantly in one spirit 
 of direction without distraction ; but then it must be a prudent 
 king, such as is able to grind with a hand-mill and those in- 
 ward 1 counsellors had need also be wise men, and especially true 
 and trusty to the king's ends, as it was with King Henry VII. of 
 England, who in his greatest business imparted himself to none, 
 except it were to Morton and Fox. 
 
 For weakness of authority the fable showeth the remedy 
 nay, the majesty of kings is rather exalted than diminished 
 when they are in the chair of council, neither was there 
 ever prince bereaved of his dependencies by his council, except 
 where there hath been either an over-greatness in one coun- 
 sellor, or an over-strict combination in divers ; 2 which are things 
 soon found and holpen. 3 
 
 For the last inconvenience, that men will counsel with an 
 eye to themselves ; certainly, ' Non inveniet fidem super terrain/ 4 
 is meant of the nature of times, and not of all particular per- 
 sons. 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 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 : 
 
 ' Principle est virtus maxima nosse suos.' s 
 
 And on the other side, counsellors should not be too specula- 
 tive into their sovereign's person. The true composition of a 
 counsellor is, rather to be skilful in his master's business, than 
 in his nature ; for then he is like to advise him, and not to feed 
 his humour. It is of singular use to princes if they take the 
 opinions of their council both separately and together; for 
 private opinion is more free, but opinion before others is more 
 reverend. In private, men are more bold in their own humours, 
 
 1 Inward. Intimate. 'All my inward friends abhorred me.' Job xix. 19. 
 
 2 Divers. Several; sundry. 
 
 'Divers new opinions, diverse and dangerous.' STiaJcespere. 
 
 3 Holpen. Helped. ' They shall he holpen with a little help.' Dan. xi. 34. 
 
 4 'He will not find faith upon the earth.' Luke xviii. 18. 
 
 5 ' The greatest virtue of a prince is to know his man.'
 
 224 Of Counsel. [Essay xx. 
 
 and, in consort, 1 men are more obnoxious to others' humours, 
 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' 2 as in an idea of mathematical description, 
 what the kind and character of the person should be ; for the 
 greatest errors are committed, and the most judgment is shown, 
 in the choice of individuals. It was truly said, ' Optimi con- 
 siliarii mortar* 3 '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 the actors upon the 
 stage. 
 
 The councils 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 council. It were 
 better that, in causes of weight, the matter were propounded 
 one day, and not spoken to till next day/ in nocte eonsilium; 54 
 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, 5 that they may ' hoc agere.' 6 In choice 
 of committees for ripening business for the council, it is better 
 to chuse indifferent 7 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, 
 
 1 Consort. Assembly; council. 
 
 ' In one consort there sat, 
 Cruel Revenge, and rancorous Despite, 
 Disloyal Treason, and heart-burning Hate.' Spenser. 
 
 2 ' According to their kinds.' 3 ' The dead are the best counsellors.' 
 4 ' In night is counsel.' 
 
 8 Matters of estate. Public affairs. ' I hear her talk of matters of estate 
 and the Senate.' Sen Jonson. 
 
 6 ' Do this one thing.' 
 
 7 Indifferent. Neutral ; not inclined to one side more than another. 
 
 ' Cato knows neither of them, 
 Indifferent in his choice to sleep or die.' Addison.
 
 Essay xx.] Annotations. 325 
 
 for suits, for some provinces; for where there be divers par- 
 ticular councils, and but one council of estate (as it is in Spain), 
 they are, in effect, no more than standing commissions, save l 
 that they have greater authority. Let such as are to inform 
 councils out of their particular professions (as lawyers, seamen, 
 mintmen, 2 and the like), be first heard before committees, and 
 then, as occasion serves, before the council ; and let them not 
 come in multitudes, or in a tribunitious 3 manner ; for that is to 
 clamour 4 councils, not to inform them. A long table and a 
 square table, or seats about the walls, seem things of form, but 
 are things of substance; for at a long table, a few at the upper 
 end, in effect, sway all the business ; but in the other form 
 there is more use of the counsellors' opinions that sit lower. 
 A king, when he presides in council, let him beware how he 
 opens his own inclination too much in that which he pro- 
 poundeth; for else counsellors will but take the wind of him, 
 and instead of giving free counsel, will sing him a song of 
 ' placebo/ 5 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' It is better to chuse indifferent persons, than to make an indif- 
 ferency by putting in those that are strong on both sides. 1 
 
 Bacon is here speaking of committees ; but there is, in refe- 
 rence to all legislative assemblies, a very general apprehension of 
 a complete preponderance of some extreme party ; which arises, 
 I conceive, from not taking into account the influence which, in 
 every assembly, and every society, is always exercised (except in 
 some few cases of very extraordinary excitement, and almost of 
 
 1 Save. Except. ' Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes, save one.' 
 2 Cor. xi. 
 
 2 Miutman. Skilled in coinage. ' He that thinketh Spain to be some great 
 overmatch for this estate, is no good mintman, but takes greatness of kingdoms 
 according to their bulk and currency, and not after their intrinsic value.' Bacon's 
 War with Spain. 
 
 3 Tribunitious. Like the Roman Plebeian Tribune. 
 
 4 Clamour. To stun with noise. (Rarely used as an active verb.) 
 
 ' Clamour your tongues.' Shakespere. 
 
 5 Placebo. I will please. Used to denote anything soothing. 
 
 Q
 
 226 Of Counsel. [Essay xx. 
 
 temporary disorganization) by those who are in a minority. 
 On this subject I take leave to extract a passage from The 
 Kingdom of Christ. 1 
 
 'It might appear at first sight and such is usually the 
 expectation of a child of ordinary intelligence, and of all those 
 who are deficient in an intelligent study of history, or observa- 
 tion of what is passing in the world, that whatever party 
 might, in any meeting, or in any community, obtain a majority, 
 or in whatever other way, a superiority, would be certain to 
 carry out their own principles to the utmost, with a total dis- 
 regard of all the rest ; so that in a senate for instance, con- 
 sisting, suppose, of 100 members, a majority, whether of 
 51 to 49, or of 70 to 30, or of 95 to 5, would proceed in all 
 respects as if the others had no existence : and that no mutual 
 concessions or compromises could take place except between 
 parties exactly balanced. In like manner a person wholly 
 ignorant of Mechanics might suppose that a body acted on by 
 several unequal forces in different directions would obey alto- 
 gether the strongest, and would move in the direction of that ; 
 instead of moving, as we know it ordinarily does, in a direction 
 not coinciding with any one of them. 
 
 ' And experience shows that in human affairs as well as in 
 Mechanics, such expectations are not well founded. If no 
 tolerably wise and good measures were ever carried except in 
 an assembly where there was a complete predominance of men 
 sufficiently enlightened and public-spirited to have a decided 
 preference for those measures above all others, the world would, 
 I conceive, be much worse governed than it really is. 
 
 ' No doubt, the larger the proportion of judicious and patriotic 
 individuals, the better for the community ; but it seems to be 
 the appointment of Providence that the prejudices, and passions, 
 and interests of different men should be so various as not only 
 to keep one another somewhat in check, but often to bring 
 about, or greatly help to bring about, mixed results, often far 
 preferable to anything devised or aimed at by any of the 
 parties. 
 
 ' The British Constitution, for instance, no intelligent reader 
 
 1 Kingdom of Christ, 4th edition, Appendix to Essay II. note 0, pp. 348, 349, 
 i 35 2 -
 
 Essay xx.] Annotations. 337 
 
 of history would regard as wholly or chiefly the work of men 
 fully sensible of the advantages of a government so mixed and 
 balanced. It was in great measure the result of the efforts, 
 partially neutralizing each other, of men who leaned, more or 
 less, some of them towards pure Monarchy, and others towards 
 Republicanism. And again, though no one can doubt how 
 great an advance (it is as yet only an advance) of the principle 
 of religious toleration, and of making a final appeal to Scripture 
 alone, is due to the Reformation, yet the Reformers were slow 
 in embracing these principles. They were at first nearly as 
 much disposed as their opponents to force their own interpreta- 
 tions of Scripture on every one, and to call in the magistrate 
 to suppress heresy by force. But not being able to agree 
 among themselves whose interpretation of Scripture should be 
 received as authoritative, and who should be entrusted with the 
 sword that was to extirpate heresy, compromises and mutual 
 concessions gradually led more and more to the practical 
 adoption of principles whose theoretical truth and justice is, 
 even yet, not universally perceived. 
 
 ( And similar instances may be found in every part of history. 
 Without entering into a detailed examination of the particular 
 mode in which, on each occasion, a superior party is influenced 
 by those opposed to them either from reluctance to drive them 
 to desperation, or otherwise, certain it is, that, looking only to 
 the results, the practical working of any government, in the 
 long run, and in the general course of measures, we do find 
 something corresponding to the composition of forces in Me- 
 chanics ; and we find, oftener than not, that the course actually 
 pursued is better (however faulty) than could have been cal- 
 culated on from the character of the greater part of those who 
 administer the government. The wisest and most moderate, 
 even when they form but a small minority, are often enabled 
 amidst the conflict of those in opposite extremes, to bring about 
 decisions, less wise and just indeed than they themselves would 
 have desired, but far better than those of either of the extreme 
 parties. 
 
 ' Of course we are not to expect the same exact uniformity of 
 effects in human affairs as in Mechanics. It is not meant that 
 each decision of every Assembly or Body of men will necessarily 
 be the precise ' resultant ' (as it is called in Natural Philosophy) 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 Of Counsel. [Essay xx. 
 
 of the several forces operating, the various parties existing in 
 the Assembly. Some one or two votes will occasionally be 
 passed, by a majority perhaps by no very large majority, in 
 utter defiance of the sentiments of the rest. But in the long 
 run in any course of enactments or proceedings, some degree 
 of influence will seldom fail to be exercised by those who are in 
 a minority. This influence, again, will not always correspond, 
 in kind, and in degree, with what takes place in Mechanics. 
 For instance, in the material world, the impulses which keep a 
 body motionless must be exactly opposite, and exactly balanced ; 
 but in human affairs, it will often happen that there may be a 
 considerable majority in favour of taking some step, or making 
 some enactment, yet a disagreement as to some details will give 
 a preponderance to a smaller party who are against any such 
 step. When the majority, for example, of a garrison are dis- 
 posed to make an attack on the besiegers, but are not agreed as 
 to the time and mode of it, the decision may be on the side of 
 a minority who deem it better to remain on the defensive. Ac- 
 cordingly, it is matter of common remark that a ' Council of 
 War* rarely ends in a resolution to fight a battle. 
 
 ' The results of this cause are sometimes evil, and sometimes 
 perhaps more frequently good. Many troublesome and per- 
 nicious restrictions and enactments, as well as some beneficial 
 ones, are in this way prevented. 
 
 ' And again the delay and discussion which ensue when 
 powerful parties are at all nearly balanced, afford an opening 
 for arguments : and this, on the whole, and in the long run, 
 gives an advantage (more or less, according to the state of 
 intellectual culture and civilization) to the most wise and 
 moderate, in short, to those (even though but a small portion, 
 numerically, of the assembly) who have the best arguments on 
 their side. Some, in each of the opposed parties, may thus be 
 influenced by reason, who would not have waited to listen to 
 reason, but for the check they receive from each other. And 
 thus it will sometimes happen that a result may ensue even 
 better than could have been calculated from the mere mechanical 
 computation of the acting forces/ 
 
 The above views are the more important, because any one 
 who does not embrace them, will be likely, on contemplating 
 any wise institution or enactment of former times, to be thrown
 
 Essay xx.] Annotations. 229 
 
 into indolent despondency, if he find, as he often will, that the 
 majority of those around us do not seem to come up to the 
 standard which those institutions and enactments appear to 
 him to imply. He takes for granted that the whole, or the 
 chief part, of the members of those assemblies, &c., in which 
 such and such measures were carried, must have been men of a 
 corresponding degree of good sense, and moderation, and public 
 spirit : and perceiving (as he thinks) that an assembly of such 
 men could not now be found, he concludes that wisdom and 
 goodness (in governments at least) must have died with our 
 ancestors ; or at least that no good is at present to be hoped 
 from any government. And yet perhaps the truth will be that 
 the greater part of the very assemblies whose measures he is 
 admiring may have consisted of men of several parties, each of 
 which would, if left entirely to itself, have made a much worse 
 decision than the one actually adopted; and that one may have 
 been such, as, though not actually to coincide with, yet most 
 nearly to approach to, the opinions of the wisest and best mem- 
 bers of the assembly, though those may have been but a small 
 minority. And it may be therefore, that he may have around 
 him the materials of an assembly not at all inferior in probity 
 or intelligence to that which he is contemplating with despairing 
 admiration. 
 
 1 1 commend also standing Commissions' 
 
 If a standing Commission were appointed by Parliament, con- 
 sisting of three or four eminent Lawyers, with handsome salaries, 
 whose sole business should be to draw up Bills according to the 
 instructions given by each proposer, this would save an infinity 
 of litigation, and confused and fruitless legislation. No Bill 
 should then be ever altered in its passage through either House ; 
 nor should there ever be such a thing as a ' Committee of the 
 whole House ;' that great source of confusion ; but each Bill 
 should be either passed as it is, or rejected, or referred back to the 
 ' standing Commission' for amendment. And thus we should 
 almost entirely escape the absurdities and inconveniences of 
 ' An Act to amend an Act, to amend an Act/ &c. &c.
 
 230 Of Counsel. [Essay xx. 
 
 ' A king, when he presides in council 
 
 It is remarkable how a change of very great importance in 
 our system of government was brought about by pure accident. 
 The custom of the king's being present in a cabinet council of 
 his ministers, which was the obvious, and had always been the 
 usual state of things, was put an end to when the Hanoverian 
 princes came to the throne, from their ignorance of the English 
 language. The advantage thence resulting, of ministers laying 
 before the sovereign the result of their full and free delibera- 
 tions an advantage not at all originally contemplated, caused 
 the custom to be continued, and so established that it is most 
 unlikely it should ever be changed.
 
 ESSAY XXI. OF DELAYS. 
 
 TT^ORTUNE is like the market, where, many times, if you can 
 J- stay a little, the price will fall ; and again, it is sometimes 
 like Sibylla's 1 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, 2 which is hard to clasp. 3 
 There is surely no greater wisdom than well to time the begin- 
 nings 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' backs), and so to shoot off 
 before the time, or to teach dangers to come on, by over-early 
 buckling 4 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 
 all 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, 5 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. 
 
 1 Sibylla. The Sibyl. 
 
 2 Belly. That protuberance or cavity of anything resembling the human belly. 
 ' An Irish harp hath the concave, or belly, at the end of the strings.' Bacon, 
 Nat. Hist. 3 Phscd. viii. 
 
 4 Buckle. To go ; to hasten towards. 
 
 ' Soon he buckled to the field.' Spenser. 
 
 5 Homer, II. \. 845.
 
 232 Of Delays. [Essay xxi. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON DELAYS. 
 
 PEG. CONTBA. 
 
 ' Fortuna multa festinanti vendit, ' Occasio, instar Sibyllse, minuit obla- 
 
 quibus morantem donat. turn, pretium auget. 
 
 ' Fortune often SELLS to the hasty ' Opportunity, like the Sibyl, dimi- 
 
 what she GIVES to those who wait.' nishes her offering, and increases her 
 
 price, at each visit' 
 
 ' Celeritas, Orci galea. 
 
 ' Speed is the helmet of Pluto.' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 This matter of ' Delays 7 is most emphatically one in which, 
 as Sir Roger de Coverley might have decided, much may be said 
 on both sides. The rules which Bacon does give are very good ; 
 but, as it has been well observed, ' genius begins where rules 
 end/ and there is no matter wherein rules can go a less way, 
 or wherein there is more call for what may be called practical 
 genius : that is, a far-sighted sagacity, as to the probable results 
 of taking or not taking a certain step, and a delicate tact in 
 judging of the peculiar circumstances of each case. 
 
 It is important to keep in mind, that in some cases, where 
 (as Bacon has expressed it) ' not to decide is to decide/ a delay 
 may amount to a wrong decision ; and in other cases may at 
 least produce serious evil. Thus, there was once a very learned 
 and acute Lord Chancellor, none of whose decisions, I believe, 
 were ever reversed, but who very often decided, virtually, 
 against both parties, by delaying his decision till both were 
 beggared by law-expenses, and broken down in mind and body 
 by anxious care. Aud he delayed filling up Livings for two or 
 three years, or more, to the great detriment of the parish, and 
 sometimes with heavy loss of the revenue of the benefice. 
 
 The greater part of men are bigots to one or the other of the 
 opposite systems, of delay, or of expedition ; always for acting 
 either on the maxim of ' never put off till to-morrow what can 
 be done to-day/ or, on the opposite one, which is said to have 
 been in the mouth of Talleyrand, ' never do to-day what can be 
 done to-morrow/
 
 Essay xxi.] Annotations. 233 
 
 But still worse are those mock-wise men who mingle the 
 two systems together, and are slow and quick just in the same 
 degree that a really wise man is ; only, in the wrong places : 
 who make their decisions hastily, and are slow in the execution; 
 begin in a hurry, and are dilatory in proceeding ; who unmask 
 their battery hastily, and then think of loading their guns ; who 
 cut their corn green, (according to the French proverbial ex- 
 pression of ' manger son ble en herbe/) and let their fruit hang 
 to ripen till it has been blown down by the winds and is rotting 
 on the ground. 
 
 ' The ripeness or unripeness of the occasion must ever be well 
 
 weighed.' 
 
 It is a common phrase with the undiscriminating advocates 
 of delay, that ' The World is not yet ripe for such and such a 
 measure/ But they usually forget to inquire ' Is it ripening ? 
 When, and how, is it likely to become ripe ? or, Are men's minds 
 to ripen like winter pears, merely by laying them by, and let- 
 ting them alone ?' 
 
 . ' Time/ as Bishop Copleston has remarked, (Remains, p. 123,) 
 ' is no agent/ When we speak of such and such changes being 
 brought about by time, we mean in time, by the gradual and 
 imperceptible operation of some gentle agency. We should 
 observe, therefore, whether there is any such agency at work, 
 and in what direction ; whether to render a certain change 
 more difficult or easier. If you are surrounded by the waters, 
 and want to escape, you should observe whether the tide is 
 flowing or ebbing. In the one case, you should at once attempt 
 the ford, at all hazards ; in the other, you have to wait patiently. 
 And if the water be still, and neither rising nor falling, then you 
 should consider that though there is no danger of drowning, you 
 must remain insulated for ever, unless you cross the ford ; and 
 that if this is to be done at all, it may be as well done at once. 
 
 The case of slavery in the United States is one of a rising 
 tide. The rapid multiplication of slaves which has already 
 rendered their emancipation a difficult and hazardous step, 
 makes it more so every year, and increases the danger of a 
 servile war such as that of St. Domingo. 
 
 The serfdom of the Russians is, perhaps, rather a case of
 
 234 Of Delays. [Essay xxi. 
 
 still water. There seems no great reason to expect that the 
 state of things will grow either worse or better, spontaneously. 1 
 
 In each of these cases, the slaves and the serfs are not ripe 
 for freedom ; no enslaved people ever are ; and to wait before 
 you bestow liberty, or political rights, till the recipients are fit 
 to employ them aright, is to resolve not to go into the water 
 till you can swim. You must make up your mind to encounter 
 many very considerable evils, at first, and for some time, while 
 men are learning to use the advantages conferred on them. 
 
 It is the part of wisdom, however, to lessen these evils as far 
 as can be done by careful preparation, and by bringing forward 
 the several portions of any measure in the best order. A striking 
 instance of the wisdom of this rule was exhibited in the mea- 
 sures adopted in reference to the Irish Roman-catholics. The 
 first thing done was to bestow political power on the lowest, 
 most ignorant, and most priest-ridden of the people, by giving 
 them the elective franchise; at the same time making this a 
 source of continual irritation and continued agitation, because 
 they were still restricted from electing members of their own 
 persuasion. Roman-catholics were still precluded from sitting 
 in Parliament, because, forsooth, ' no one of that Church could 
 be safely trusted with political power !' So said thousands, and 
 hundreds of thousands, for nearly forty years, during which 
 Roman-catholics had been exercising political power (as free- 
 holders) in the most dangerous way possible. The next step 
 was to admit Roman-catholics to seats; which ought to have 
 preceded as almost every one now admits the conferring of 
 the elective franchise ; because the Roman-catholics who would 
 thus have been admitted to a share of political power would 
 have been few, and would have belonged to the educated classes. 
 And last of all came that which should have been the first of 
 all, the providing of some such schooling for the mass of the 
 people as might render them at least one degree less unfit for 
 political power. 
 
 And, was the long interval between the beginning and the 
 end of this series of measures, occupied in providing against the 
 dangers to be apprehended as resulting? Quite the reverse. 
 Instead of holding out, so as to gain better terms, we held out 
 for worse. The ministry of 1806 provided certain conditions as 
 
 1 Since this was written, there seems good hope of a remedy of this eviL
 
 Essay xxi.] Annotations. 335 
 
 safeguards, which that of 1829 would not venture to insist on. 
 The one ministry would have capitulated on terms; the other 
 surrendered nearly at discretion. The one proposed to confer 
 something of a free-will boon; the other yielded avowedly to 
 intimidation. 
 
 In the Heart of Midlothian there is an amusing scene, where 
 Jeanie, having discovered that the young ruffian, 'the Whistler/ 
 is her nephew, goes to visit him in the outhouse where he is 
 confined, bound hand and foot. She first unbinds him ; and 
 then proceeds to propose conditions of release ; saying ' I will 
 
 not let you out unless you will promise ' ' But I'll make 
 
 you let me out :' and with that he snatches up the candle 
 and sets fire to the hovel. She runs out screaming; and 
 he escapes. 
 
 This may serve as a kind of type of the conduct of those 
 who first grant men enough power to make their demand irre- 
 sistible, and then afterwards think about limitations, and stipu- 
 lations, and oaths, and suchlike securities. 
 
 In reference to the unfitness for freedom (just above alluded 
 to) of those who have been enslaved, there is a just and im- 
 portant remark in a little pamphlet by Bishop Hinds, published 
 several years ago (under the title of a Letter to Lord 
 Brougham] : that the person who has the best opportunity both 
 of judging of any Slave's fitness for liberty, and of training 
 him to that fitness, is, the Master; the very person whose 
 apparent interest is to keep him a slave. The problem is, to 
 make the Master's interest lie the other way. And the pro- 
 posed solution, which is both ingenious and simple, is, a tax on 
 Slaves ; an ad valorem tax, of so much per cent, on the value 
 of each slave, as estimated by the master ; who, however, is to 
 be bound to part with the Slave to Government, if required, at 
 the price fixed by himself; which rule would prevent him from 
 fixing it too low. The slaves would thus be a burden to the 
 master ; and the most so, the most valuable ; that is, the most 
 intelligent, industrious, and trusty ; who are those most quali- 
 fied for liberty. These therefore he would be induced to free 
 speedily ; and the rest, as soon as each could be trained to such 
 habits as would qualify him to be a free labourer. And thus 
 Slavery would gradually melt away, without any dangerous 
 revolution.
 
 235 Of Delays. [Essay xxi. 
 
 ' There is no secrecy comparable to celerity' 
 
 "We have an illustration of the importance of ' celerity in the 
 execution/ in circumstances in the history of our government 
 of a later date than the instance above mentioned. A ministry 
 which had established a certain system about which there had 
 been much controversy, was succeeded by those of the opposite 
 party; and these were eagerly looked to, by men of all parties, 
 to see whether they would support that system in its integrity, 
 or abolish, or materially modify it. They were warned of the 
 importance of coming to a speedy decision one way or the 
 other, and of clearly proclaiming it at once, in order to put a 
 stop to false hopes and false fears. And it was pointed out to 
 them that those who had hitherto opposed that system were 
 now, avowedly, resting on their oars, and waiting to see what 
 course the ministers they favoured would adopt. This warning 
 was conveyed in a letter, pressing for a speedy answer : the 
 answer came in a year and a half! and after every encourage- 
 ment had been given, during the interim of hesitation, to the 
 opponents of the system to come forward to commit themselves 
 anew to their opposition (which they did), then at length the 
 system was adopted and approved, and carried on in the face of 
 these marshalled opponents, embittered by disappointment, and 
 indignant at what they regarded as betrayal ! 
 
 So much for taking one's time, and proceeding leisurely ! 
 
 In another case, a measure of great benefit to the empire was 
 proposed, which was approved by almost all sensible and public- 
 spirited men acquainted with the case, but unacceptable to those 
 who wished to ' fish in troubled waters/ and had sagacity enough 
 to perceive the tendency of the measure, and also by some few 
 whose private interest was opposed to that of the Public, and 
 by several others who were either misled by the above, or afraid 
 of losing popularity with them. The wise course would have 
 been, to make the exact arrangements, secretly, for all the de- 
 tails, and then at once to bring forward the measure ; which 
 would at once, and with ease, have been carried. Instead of 
 this, the design was announced publicly, long before, so as to 
 afford ample time and opportunity for getting up petitions, and 
 otherwise organizing opposition ; and then advantage was taken 
 of some flaw in the details of the measure, which had been 
 overlooked, and might easily have been remedied : and thus the 
 measure was defeated.
 
 Essay xxi.] Annotations. 337 
 
 It was as if a general should proclaim a month beforehand 
 the direction in which he meant to march, so as to allow the 
 enemy to prepare all kinds of obstacles ; and then, when he had 
 begun his march, to be forced to turn back, from having left 
 his pontoons and his artillery behind ! 
 
 ' To shoot off before the time, or to teach dangers to come on by 
 over-early buckling towards them, is another extreme.' 
 
 This error of taking some step prematurely, or of doing at 
 one stride what had better have been done gradually, arises 
 often, in a sensible man, from a sense of the shortness and un- 
 certainty of life, and an impatience to ' see of the labour of his 
 soul and be satisfied/ instead of leaving his designs to be carried 
 into execution, or to be completed, by others, who may perhaps 
 not do the work so well, or may be defeated by some rally of 
 opponents. 
 
 And sometimes it is even wise, under the circumstances, to 
 proceed more hastily than would have been advisable if one 
 could have been sure of being able to proceed without obstacles. 
 It would have been, for instance, in itself, better to relax gra- 
 dually the laws interfering with free-trade, than to sweep them 
 away at once. But the interval would have been occupied in 
 endeavours, which might have been successful, to effect a kind 
 of counter-revolution, and re-establish those laws. And so it 
 is with many other reforms. 
 
 A man who plainly perceives that, as Bacon observes, there 
 are some cases which call for promptitude, and others which 
 require delay, and who has also sagacity enough to perceive 
 which is which, will often be mortified at perceiving that he has 
 come too late for some things, and too soon for others ; that 
 lie is like a skilful engineer, who perceives how he could, fifty 
 years earlier, have effectually preserved an important harbour 
 which is now irrecoverably silted up, and how he could, fifty 
 years hence, though not at present, reclaim from the sea thou- 
 sands of acres of fertile land at the delta of some river. 
 
 Hence the proverb 
 
 ' He that is truly wise and great, 
 Lives botli too early and too late.' 1 
 
 1 See Proverbs and Precepts for Copy -pieces for Schools.
 
 ESSAY XXII. 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 humours, 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 1 the old rule, to know a fool from a wise man, 
 'Mitte ambos nudos ad ignotos, et videbis,' 2 doth scarce hold 
 for them. And because these cunning men are like haber- 
 dashers of small wares, it is not amiss to set forth their shop. 
 
 It is a point of cunning to wait 3 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 4 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 pre- 
 sent dispatch, 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 know 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 
 state, that she might the less mind the bills. 
 
 The like surprise may be made by moving* things when the 
 
 1 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 8 ' Send both naked to strangers, and thou shalt know.' 
 
 3 Wait upon him with your eye. To look watchfully to Mm. ' As the eyes of 
 
 servants look unto the hands of their masters, so our eyes wait upon the 
 
 Lord our God.' Ps. cxxiii. 2. 
 
 4 Would. Should. 
 
 4 Move. To propose. 
 
 ' Let me but move one question to your daughter 'Shakespere.
 
 Essay xxii.] Of Cunning. 339 
 
 party is in haste, and cannot stay to consider advisedly of that 1 
 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 occa- 
 sion for the party to ask what the matter 2 is of the change, as 
 Nehemiah did, ' And I had not before that time been sad 
 before the king/ 3 
 
 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 Nar- 
 cissus did, in relating to Claudius the marriage of Messalina 
 and Silius. 4 
 
 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. 3 
 
 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 
 bye matter. 
 
 I knew another that, when he came to have speech, he would 
 pass over that he intended most, and go forth, and come back 
 again, and speak of it as a thing 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 be found with a letter in their hand, or doing some- 
 what which they are not accustomed, to the end they may 
 
 1 That. That which. See page 82. 
 Matter. Cause. 
 
 'To your quick-conceiving discontent, 
 
 I'll read you matter deep and dangerous.' ShaTcespere. 
 3 Nehemiah ii. i. * Tacit. Ann. xi. 29, seq.
 
 240 Of Cunning. [Essay xxii. 
 
 be apposed 1 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 2 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 3 of a monarchy was a ticklish 
 thing, and that he did not affect 4 it ; the other straight caught 
 up those words, and discoursed with divers 5 of his friends, that 
 he had no reason to desire to be secretary in the declining of a 
 monarchy. The first man took hold of it, and found means it 
 was told the queen; who, hearing of a declination of monarchy, 
 took it so ill, as 6 she would never after hear of the other's suit. 
 
 There is a cunning, which we in England call ' the turning 
 of the cat in the pan ;' 7 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, saying, ' Se non 
 
 1 Apposed. Questioned. (From appono, Lat.) ' Whiles children of that age 
 were playing in the streets, Christ was found sitting in the Temple, not to gaze on 
 the outward glory of the house, or on the golden candlesticks, or tables, hut to hear 
 and oppose the doctors.' Bishop Hall. 
 
 (The office of ' Foreign Apposer ' exists to this day in the Court of Exchequer.) 
 
 3 Quarter. Amity ; concord. 
 
 ' Friends, all but now, 
 In quarter.' Shakespere. 
 * Declination. Decay. 
 
 ' Hope waits upon the flow'ry prime ; 
 
 And summer though it be less gay, 
 Yet is not look'd on as a time 
 
 Of declination or decay.' Waller. 
 
 4 Affect. Aim at ; endeavour after. See page i . 
 
 s Divers. Several; more than one. 'Divers friends thought it strange.' 
 Soyle. 
 
 6 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 7 Cat' in the pan. Pan-cake. (Gate cake pan-cake.) Usually turned by a 
 dexterous toss of the cook. A pan-cake is, in Northamptonshire, still called a 
 pan -cafe.
 
 Essay xxii.] Of Cunning. 241 
 
 diversas spes, sed incolumitatem imperatoris sirapliciter spec- 
 tare.' l 
 
 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 2 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 3 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 4 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 5 and falls 6 
 of business, that cannot sink into the main of it; like a house 
 that hafh convenient stairs and entries, but never a fair room : 
 therefore you shall see them find out pretty 7 looses 8 in the con- 
 
 1 ' He did not look to various hopes, but solely to the safety of the emperor.' 
 Tacit. Ann. xiv. 57. 
 
 2 In. On. 'Let fowl multiply in the earth.' Genesis i. 
 
 3 Stick. To hesitate ; to scruple. ' Rather than impute our miscarriages to 
 our own corruption, we do not stick to arraign Providence.' South. 
 
 4 Straightways. Immediately. 
 
 5 Resorts. Springs. 
 
 ' Fortune, 
 
 Whose dark resorts since prudence cannot know, 
 In vain it would provide for what shall he.' Dryden. 
 
 6 Falls. Chances. ' To resist the falls of fortune.' Golden Book. 
 ~ Pretty. Suitable ; jit ; tolerable. 
 
 ' My daughter's of a pretty age.' Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 8 Looses. Issues; escapes from restraint, such as is difficulty or perplexity in 
 deliberation. 
 
 'And shot they with the square, the round, or forket pile, (head of an arrow) 
 The loose gave such a twang as might be heard a mile.' Dray ton. 
 
 R
 
 243 Of Cunning. [Essay xxii. 
 
 elusion, 1 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 2 of others, and (as we now say) putting tricks upon 
 them, than upon the soundness of their own proceedings ; but 
 Solomon saith, ' Prudens advertit ad gressus suos; stultus 
 divertit ad dolos.' 3 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' We take cunning for a sinister or crooked wisdom' 
 
 Those who are for making etymology decisive as to the 
 actual meaning of words 4 might maintain that, as the word 
 is derived from ( ken' i.e. ( know' it is properly to be applied, 
 now (as it was formerly), to all knowledge and skill. 
 
 And, again, a plausible disquisition might be written on 
 human depravity ; the present use of the word being taken 
 as a proof that all who possess knowledge are likely to make 
 an ill-use of it. Such disquisitions may be met with, by 
 writers who either do not understand, or trust to their readers 
 not understanding, the principles on which languages are 
 formed and modified, and who would fain pass for profound 
 moral philosophers. 5 
 
 But, in truth, it is quite natural, and very common, to use 
 
 This use of the word 'loose' seems to correspond with our use of the word ' solu- 
 tion,' from solvo, to LOOSE ' Solve the question :' 
 
 ' He had red her riddle, which no wight 
 Could ever loose.' Spenser. 
 
 1 Conclusion. The close ; the result of deliberation. ' I have been reasoning, 
 and in conclusion have thought it best to return to what Fortune had made uiy 
 home.' Swift. 
 
 Bacon's meaning in the use of the words taken together, ' Pretty looses in the 
 conclusion,' is best explained by the original Latin of this Essay ' Tales videtis in 
 conclusionibus deliberationum quosdam exitus reperire.' 
 
 2 Abuse. To deceive. 
 
 "The Moor's abused by some most villanous knave.' Shakespere. 
 "The wise man looks to his steps ; the fool turns aside to the snare.' 
 See 'Annotations' on Essay L. See English Synonyms: Preface.
 
 Essay xxii.] Annotations. 243 
 
 softened expressions in speaking of anything odious. Most of 
 the words, accordingly, which now denote something offensive, 
 were originally euphemisms, and gradually became appropriated 
 to a bad sense. Thus (to take one example out of a multitude), 
 ' wicked 1 seems to have originally meant ' lively;' being formed 
 from ' quick/ or ( wick/ i.e. alive. This latter is the word 
 now in use in Cumberland for * alive/ And hence the live 
 i.e. burning part of a lamp or candle, is called the wick. 
 
 ' 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' 
 
 "Whatever a man may be, intellectually, he labours under 
 this disadvantage if he is of low moral principle, that he knows 
 only the weak and bad parts of human nature, and not the 
 better. 
 
 It was remarked by an intelligent Roman Catholic that the 
 Confessional trains the priest to a knowledge not of human 
 nature, but of mental nosology. ' It may therefore qualify 
 them/ he said, ' for the treatment of a depraved, but not of a 
 pure mind/ 
 
 Now, what the Confessional is to the priest, that a knave's 
 own heart is to him. He can form no notion of a nobler 
 nature than his own. He is like the goats in Robii son 
 Crusoe's island, who saw clearly everything below them, but 
 very imperfectly what was above them; so that Robinson Crusoe 
 could never get at them from the valleys, but when he came 
 upon them from the hill-top, took them quite by surprise. 
 
 Miss Edgeworth describes such a person as one who divides 
 all mankind into rogues and fools, and when he meets with an 
 honest man of good sense, does not know what to make of him. 
 Nothing, it is said, more puzzled Buonaparte. He would offer 
 a man money; if that failed, he would talk of glory, or promise 
 him rank and power: but if all these temptations failed, he set 
 him down for an idiot, or a half-mad dreamer. Conscience was 
 a thing he could not understand. Other things, then, being 
 equal, an honest man has this advantage over a knave, that he 
 understands more of human nature : for he knows that one 
 honest man exists ; and concludes that there must be more ; and 
 
 R a
 
 244 Of Cunning. [Essay xxii. 
 
 he also knows, if he is not a mere simpleton, that there are 
 some who are knavish ; but the knave can seldom be brought 
 to believe in the existence of an honest man. The honest man 
 may be deceived in particular persons ; but the knave is sure to 
 be deceived whenever he comes across an honest man who is 
 not a mere fool. 
 
 There are some writers of fiction whose productions have 
 lately (1854) obtained considerable reputation, who have given 
 spirited and just representations of particular characters, but an 
 unnatural picture of society as a whole, from omitting (what 
 they appear to have no notion of) all characters of good sense 
 combined with good principle. They seem to have formed 
 no idea of any, but what one may call tv^Qtig and Ka/coj?0ac ; 
 simpletons and crafty knaves ; together with some who com- 
 bine portions of each; profligacy with silliness. But all their 
 worthy people are represented as weak, and all those of superior 
 intelligence as morally detestable. One of these writers was, in 
 conversation, reprobating as unjust the censure passed on slavery, 
 and maintaining that any ill-usage of a slave was as rare in 
 America, as a hump- back or a club-foot among us; quite an 
 exception. If so, the Americans must be a curious contrast to 
 all that his fictions represent; for, in them, all of superior intelli- 
 gence, and most of those of no superior intelligence, are just 
 the persons who would make the most tyrannical slave-masters ; 
 being not only utterly unprincipled, but utterly hard-hearted, 
 and strangers to all human feeling ! 
 
 The sort of advantage which those of high moral principle 
 possess, in the knowledge of mankind, is analogous to that 
 which Man possesses over the brute. Man is an animal, as 
 well as the brute; but he is something more. He has, and 
 therefore can understand, most of their appetites and propensi- 
 ties : but he has also faculties which they want, and of which 
 they can form no notion. Even so, the bodily appetites, and 
 the desire of gain, and other propensities, are common to the 
 most elevated and the most degraded of mankind; but the 
 latter are deficient in the higher qualifications which the others 
 possess ; and can, accordingly, so little understand them, that, 
 as Bacon remarks, ' of the highest virtues, the vulgar have no 
 perception.' (Supremarum sensus nullus.)
 
 Essay xxii.] Annotations. 345 
 
 ' These small wares and petty points of cunning are infinite. . . .' 
 
 To these small wares, enumerated by Bacon, might be added 
 a very hackneyed trick, which yet is wonderfully successful, 
 to affect a delicacy about mentioning particulars, and hint at 
 what you could bring forward, only you do not wish to give 
 offence. ' We could give many cases to prove that such and 
 such a medical system is all a delusion, and a piece of quackery; 
 but we abstain, through tenderness for individuals, from bring- 
 ing names before the Public/ ( I have observed many things 
 which, however, I will not particularize which convince me 
 that Mr. Such-a-one is unfit for his office ; and others have 
 made the same remark; but I do not like to bring them 
 forward/ &c. &c. 
 
 Thus an unarmed man keeps the unthinking in awe, by 
 assuring them that he has a pair of loaded pistols in his pocket, 
 though he is loth to produce them. 
 
 To deal in obscure hints, boastfully put forward, is a stratagem 
 analogous to that by which the famous Montrose is recorded to 
 have gained one of his victories, over very superior numbers. 
 He placed almost all his men in the two wings ; with nothing 
 in the centre but some thickets among which a very few men 
 were dispersed, who were to show themselves here and there 
 amidst the bushes, so as to give the impression of a concealed 
 force, which the enemy did not venture to attack. 
 
 The following trick is supposed (for no certain knowledge 
 could be, or ever can be, obtained) to have been successfully 
 practised in a transaction which occurred in the memory of 
 persons now living : A person whose conduct was about to 
 undergo an investigation which it could not well stand, commu- 
 nicated to one who was likely to be called on as a witness, all 
 the details a complete fabrication of some atrocious miscon- 
 duct : and when the witness narrated the conversation, utterly 
 denied the whole, and easily proved that the things described 
 could not possibly have occurred. The result was, a universal 
 acquittal, and a belief that all the accusations were the result 
 of an atrocious conspiracy. But those who best knew the 
 characters of the parties, were convinced that the witness had
 
 246 Of Cunning. [Essay xxii. 
 
 spoken nothing but the truth as to the alleged conversation, 
 and had been tricked by the accused party, who had invented 
 a false accusation in order to defeat a true one. 
 
 One not very uncommon device of some cunning people is 
 an affectation of extreme simplicity; which often has the effect, 
 for the time at least, of throwing the company off their guard. 
 And their plan is to affect a hasty, blunt, and what the French 
 call ' brusque ' manner. The simple are apt to conclude that he 
 who is not smooth and cautious, must be honest, and what they 
 call f a rough diamond/ in reality, a rough diamond all but 
 the diamond. Thus Hastings says of Richard III. : 
 
 ' I think there's ne'er a man in Christendom 
 Can lesser hide his love or hate than he ; 
 For hy his face straight you shall know his heart.' 
 
 Another device is, an affectation of extreme modesty. It is 
 a well-known and common art of the orator to extol the inge- 
 nuity arid eloquence of an opponent, that the effect of what he 
 says may be attributed rather to his ability than to the strength 
 of his cause, and that the hearers may even be led to feel a 
 distrust and dread of him. We commonly find a barrister 
 especially when he has a weak cause complimenting his 
 'learned brother' on the skill with which he has pleaded. 
 
 But in other cases besides those of public orations, an exces- 
 sive distrust of superior ability is a kind of fallacy by which 
 weak men often mislead themselves, and cunning ones seek to 
 mislead others. When you have offered strong and unanswer- 
 able reasons in favour of some conclusion, or some line of con- 
 duct, a person of exquisite modest humility will perhaps reply, 
 ' Of course I am not so presumptuous as to attempt to argue 
 with you ; I know well your superior ability and learning ; I 
 have no doubt you could easily defeat me in any discussion ; 
 but you must allow me to retain my own opinion/ 
 
 Thus, if you are supposed to be an able reasoner, all the 
 reasons you can offer are, on that ground, to go for nothing ! 
 The discount at which all you can say is to be taken, amounts 
 to a hundred per cent, or more. You must submit to what is 
 called in Chess a stale-mate. 
 
 Sometimes indeed, even when there is no matter in imme- 
 diate dispute, a man of reputed ability will be altogether
 
 Essay xxii.] Annotations. 247 
 
 shunned by some persons, just as cautious people (according to 
 Dean Swift's illustration) keep out of the way of a gun, which 
 may go off, they know not how, and do mischief. 
 
 A late eminent writer once sought the acquaintance of a 
 clergyman who was a very near neighbour, merely as such, and 
 not with a view to any controversial discussion ; and the other 
 declined all intercourse; alleging that he was fully convinced 
 his neighbour was heretical, but so far his superior in learning 
 arid ability that he could not presume to engage in any dis- 
 cussion with him, and was afraid of some impression being 
 made on himself. This is exactly the ground on which the 
 Emperor Charles V. 1 always refused a hearing to the Lutheran 
 divines. 
 
 And in another instance, a man refused, to the end of his life, 
 to hold any intercourse with one nearly connected with him, as 
 ' believing him to be a man who could prove anything.' He 
 did not allege any abuse of this supposed power; but took for 
 granted that whoever has the power to do evil will be sure to 
 use it. 
 
 Thucydides records (B. 8) the prejudice entertained by the 
 Athenians against one of their most eminent citizens, Antiphon, 
 to whom they were unwilling to allow a hearing, because they 
 had so high an opinion of his abilities that they thought him 
 likely to make a skilful defence. And so they paid him the 
 undesirable compliment of condemning him unheard. 
 
 Of course, if we have any good reason for suspecting a man's 
 uprightness, or candour, we should be the more on our guard 
 against him in proportion to his ability. And, universally, it 
 would be rash for the unlearned to take for granted that they 
 are bound to yield at once to every argument and objection 
 urged by a learned and skilful controversialist, unless they can 
 find an immediate answer. They should take time to consider, 
 and should seek some champion on the opposite side, able to 
 supply their deficiency. But it surely cannot be right that 
 any one should be altogether denied a hearing, merely on the 
 ground of his possessing superior intelligence. It is, no doubt, 
 a compendious mode of getting rid of strong and unanswerable 
 reasons, to make them go for nothing, merely because urged by 
 
 1 See an able article on his life in the Edinburgh Review, Jan. 1 855.
 
 248 Of Cunning. [Essay xxii. 
 
 an able man. But this spurious modesty is, in truth, a fallacy 
 by which (as has been above said) the weak impose on them- 
 selves, and the crafty, on others. 
 
 All Fallacies are pieces of cunning, when used designedly. 
 For by a fallacy is commonly understood any unsound mode of 
 arguing, which appears to demand our conviction, and to be 
 decisive of the question in hand, when in fairness it is not. 
 And many are the contrivances which the sophist, who brings 
 forward the fallacy, deliberately uses to withdraw our attention 
 (his art closely resembling the juggler's) from the quarter where 
 it lies. 1 
 
 Much ingenious artifice is often used to evade the odium of 
 urging a man to do something you wish him to do, or of dis- 
 suading, or preventing him from doing what you wish him 
 not to do, or of refusing to grant something you are asked 
 for, &c. 
 
 The story, which has become proverbial, of ' pray don't nail 
 his ears to the pump/ is a type of one class of these manoeuvres ; 
 where you suggest something, or hold out a temptation, under 
 the pretext of dissuading. 
 
 When an illustrious personage was doubting about coming 
 to England, being offered by government an ample pension for 
 staying abroad, and threatened with a trial (in case of refusal) 
 for alleged misconduct, one of the advisers of the party, wishing 
 for troubled waters, in hopes of catching some fish, said, ' I 
 entreat and implore you to accept the offer, if you are at all 
 conscious that any of the accusations against you are well- 
 founded. By all means stay abroad, unless you are quite sure 
 of being able to establish your innocence.' This, of course, 
 produced the effect he designed ; since it made a consent to 
 remain absent amount to a confession of guilt. 
 
 Again, the granting of some permission, coupled with some 
 
 1 See Elements of Logic, b. iii., ' On Fallacies.' 
 
 It may be as well to mention here that one of the Fallacies there treated of 
 ( 1 8, last paragraph) having lately been much to my surprise brought forward 
 and elaborately defended, I have thought it needful to print a short postscript, 
 giving a somewhat fuller description of it than I had before thought necessary. 
 
 The Fallacy in question consists in confounding together two diflerent questions ; 
 
 (1) 'Whether a certain conclusion is established by this particular argument; and 
 
 (2) ' Whether the conclusion is true.' The subject is more fully discussed in the 
 Articles on 'Cumulative Evidence' in the United Church Journal for August and 
 for October, 1856 ; and also in my edition of Paley's Evidences.
 
 Essay xxii.] Annotations. 249 
 
 condition which you know cannot or will not be fulfilled, is 
 practically a prohibition. 
 
 It is said that a gentleman, who was desirous to distribute 
 Bibles among his poor neighbours, found them willing and 
 desirous to receive them, if permitted by their clergy. He 
 accordingly applied to their bishop ; who applauded his liberality, 
 and expressed his hearty concurrence ; only requiring that each 
 person should come and ask his permission, which he promised 
 never to refuse, except for some special reason. The gentleman, 
 however, found, to his surprise, that no one of his poor neigh- 
 bours went to ask this permission. At length he was told 
 the cause ; viz., that if any man of humble station waits on the 
 bishop, it is understood that this is to obtain absolution for 
 some heinous sin, beyond what the priest has power to pardon; 
 and thus his character is for ever blasted. Thus the bishop 
 was enabled to say that he had never refused any man per- 
 mission to obtain a Bible ! 
 
 Again, a gentleman residing in Brittany, wished, it is said, 
 to distribute Bibles among the people, and found he had to 
 apply to the Authorities for a licence, which the law of France 
 requires, in order to prevent the hawking of seditious publica- 
 tions. The official applied to did not like broadly to refuse, 
 but granted a licence for the distribution of French Bibles ; 
 which are quite unintelligible to the poor Bretons. What was 
 wanted was, of course, a licence to distribute Bibles in their 
 own tongue, which is a dialect of Welsh. But this could not be 
 obtained. He had granted a licence for the sale of Bibles, and 
 that was enough ! 1 
 
 Even so the stork in the fable was welcome to as much 
 soup as she could pick up with her bill, and the wolf to as 
 much mince-meat as he could get out of a narrow-necked 
 bottle. And according to the proverbial caution f You should 
 never rub your eye except with your elbow/ 
 
 Again, a person who had the control of a certain public hall, 
 was asked for the use of it for a meeting of a society established 
 in express opposition to an Institution he was connected with. 
 He might, on that ground, very fairly have refused permission, 
 or have frankly retracted it, on consideration, if hastily and 
 
 1 I do not vouch for the correctness of the above two anecdotes, but merely for 
 having heard them, and having no reason to think them improbable.
 
 250 Of Cunning. [Essay xxii. 
 
 inconsiderately granted. But he readily granted the use of the 
 hall ; and then afterwards inserted the condition that none of 
 the speakers were to say anything against his institution ; and 
 as this was, of course, the principal topic designed to be dwelt 
 on, the condition was refused, and the permission withdrawn. 
 He could no more go straight to any object, than a hare in going 
 from her form to her pasture. 
 
 A skilful sophist will avoid a direct assertion of what he 
 means unduly to assume ; because that might direct the reader's 
 attention to the consideration of the question, whether it be 
 true or not ; since that which is indisputable does not need so 
 often to be asserted. It succeeds better, therefore, to allude to 
 the proposition, as something curious and remarkable : just as 
 the Royal Society were imposed on by being asked to account 
 for the fact that a vessel of water received no addition to its 
 weight by a live fish being put into it. While they were seeking 
 for the cause, they forgot to ascertain the fact; and thus ad- 
 mitted, without suspicion, a mere fiction. So also, an eminent 
 Scotch writer, instead of asserting that ' the advocates of logic 
 have been worsted and driven from the field in every controversy' 
 (an assertion which, if made, would have been the more readily 
 ascertained to be perfectly groundless), merely observes, that ' it 
 is a circumstance not a little remarkable.' 
 
 ' There be that can pack the cards, and yet cannot play well.' 
 
 Those whom Bacon here so well describes, are men of a 
 clear and quick sight, but short-sighted. They are ingenious 
 in particulars, but cannot take a comprehensive view of a whole. 
 Such a man may make a good captain, but a bad general. He 
 may be clever at surprising a piquet, but would fail in the 
 management of a great army and the conduct of a campaign. 
 He is like a chess-player who takes several pawns, but is check- 
 mated. 
 
 One who is clever, but not wise skilful in the details of any 
 transaction, but erroneous in his whole system of conduct 
 resembles a clock whose minute-hand is in good order, but the 
 hour-hand loose; so that while it measures accurately small 
 portions of time, it is, on the whole, perhaps several hours 
 wrong.
 
 Essay xxii.] Annotations. 351 
 
 Goldsmith introduces, in The Vicar of Wakefield, a clever 
 rogue, despising a plain straightforward farmer, whom he 
 generally contrives to cheat once a year; yet he confesses that, 
 in spite of this, the farmer went on thriving, while he was always 
 poor. 
 
 Indeed, it is a remarkable circumstance in reference to 
 cunning persons, that they are often deficient, not only in com- 
 prehensive far-sighted wisdom, but even in prudent, cautious 
 circumspection. 
 
 There was a man of this description, who delighted in taking 
 in every one he had to deal with, and was most ingenious and 
 successful in doing so. And yet his own estate, which was a 
 very large one, he managed very ill; and he bequeathed it abso- 
 lutely to his widow, whom he might have known to be in under- 
 standing a mere child, and who accordingly became the prey of 
 fortune-hunters. 
 
 Numerous are the cases in which the cunning are grossly 
 taken in by the cunning. Liars are often credulous. 
 
 Many travellers have given curious accounts of the subtilty 
 of the North American Indians, in stealing upon their enemies 
 so as to take them by surprise : how they creep silently through 
 the bushes, and carefully cover up their footmarks, &c. But 
 these writers take no notice of the most curious circumstance 
 of all, which is, that the enemies they thus surprise are usually 
 Indians of the same race men accustomed to practise just the 
 same arts themselves. The ingenuity and caution of these 
 people is called forth, and admirably displayed, on the occasion 
 of their setting out on a warlike expedition ; but they have no 
 settled habit of even ordinary prudence. When not roused to 
 the exertion of their faculties by some pressing emergency, they 
 are thoughtless and careless, and liable to be surprised, in their 
 turn. To fortify their villages, so as to make a surprise impos- 
 sible, or to keep up a regular patrol of sentries to watch for the 
 approach of an enemy, has never occurred to them ! A savage 
 is often a cunning, but never a wise, or even a prudent Being. 
 And even so, among us, many who are skilful in playing tricks 
 on others are often tricked themselves. 
 
 Sometimes, indeed, the more crafty of two knaves will 
 take in the other by calculating on his knavery, and thus know- 
 ing how to bait his hook. For instance, there is a story told of
 
 252 Of Cunning. [Essay xxii. 
 
 a merchant who applied to the Agent of an insurance-office 
 to effect a Pollicy 1 on a ship. Immediately after, he heard of 
 the loss of his ship ; and suspecting that perhaps (as was the 
 fact) the insurance might be not completed, he wrote off to the 
 Agent desiring him not to proceed with the business, for that 
 ' he had heard of that ship.' The Agent, taking for granted 
 that he had heard of its safety, hurried to the office, completed 
 the business, and then wrote to the merchant by return of post, 
 expressing his concern that the countermand had arrived a few 
 hours too late, and that the insurance had been effected. Thus 
 the merchant obtained his payment, because he could prove 
 that he had written to forbid the insurance. 
 
 One may be allowed to exult in the defeat of a crafty man 
 who has outwitted himself, and fallen ' into the pit that he 
 digged for others/ The following is an anecdote which I have 
 heard, though I do not pledge myself for its truth. A curate 
 of a London parish, of most exemplary conduct, was accustomed 
 to remonstrate very freely with any of his People whose life 
 was not what it should have been. They wished much to get 
 rid of him, but could find no pretext for complaint either to the 
 Rector or the Bishop. They therefore hit upon this cunning 
 plan : they drew up and signed, a Memorial to the Bishop, set- 
 ting forth the admirable character of the Curate, lamenting 
 that his eminent worth should not be rewarded, and earnestly 
 recommending him for preferment. Soon after, this very living, 
 quite unexpectedly became vacant : whereupon the Bishop con- 
 sidering how acceptable as well as deserving he appeared to be, 
 presented him to it, informing him of the Memorial. The good 
 man thanked his People with tearful eyes, rejoicing that they 
 had taken in good part his freedom of speech, and assuring 
 them that he would continue all his life the course which had 
 won their approbation. 
 
 In a Tale of Grabbers (founded on a fact) which is published 
 in his posthumous Works, the case is described of a worthless 
 spendthrift who disinherited himself, by burning his father's 
 Will to avoid the payment of a legacy. He expected to inherit 
 as heir-at-law; but by his act he gave validity to a former Will 
 which left all the property to another. 
 
 1 This is the right spelling of the word; which is evidently a contraction of 
 pollicitum, a promise, and has no connexion with politics.
 
 Essay xxii.] Annotations. 253 
 
 It may be added that the cunning are often deceived by those 
 who have no such intention. When a plain, straightforward 
 man declares plainly his real motives or designs, they set them- 
 selves to guess what these are, and hit on every possible solution 
 but the right ; taking for granted that he cannot mean what he 
 says. Bacon's remark on this we have already given in the 
 ( Antitheta on Simulation and Dissimulation.' ' He who acts in 
 all things openly, does not deceive the less ; for most persons 
 either do not understand, or do not believe him/ 
 
 'Nothing doth more hurt in a State than that cunning men pass 
 
 for wise.' 
 
 Churchill thus describes the cunning man: 
 
 ' With that low cunning which in fools supplies, 
 And amply too, the place of being wise, 
 Which nature, kind, indulgent parent, gave 
 To qualify the blockhead for a knave ; 
 With that smooth falsehood whose appearance charms, 
 And Reason of its wholesome doubt disarms, 
 Which to the lowest depths of guile descends, 
 By vilest means pursues the vilest ends; 
 Wears friendship's mask for purposes of spite, 
 Fawns in the day, and butchers in the night/ 1 
 
 It is indeed an unfortunate thing for the Public that the 
 cunning pass for wise, that those whom Bacon compares to ' a 
 house with convenient stairs and entry, but never a fair room' 
 should be the men who (accordingly) are the most likely to rise 
 to high office. The art of gaining power, and that of using it 
 well, are too often found in different persons. 
 
 1 The Bosciad, 1. 117.
 
 ESSAY XXIII. OF WISDOM FOR A MAN'S 
 
 SELF. 
 
 AN ant is a wise creature for itself, but it is a shrewd 1 thing 
 in an orchard or garden ; and certainly men that are great 
 lovers of themselves waste 2 the public. Divide with reason 
 between self-love and society ; and be so true to thyself as thou 
 be not false to others, especially to thy king and country. It 
 is a poor centre of a man's actions, himself. It is right earth ; 
 for that only stands fast upon his own centre; whereas all 
 things that have affinity with the heavens 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 3 them to his own ends, which 
 must needs be often eccentric to the ends of his master or 
 State : therefore, let princes or States chuse such servants as 
 have not this mark, except they mean their service should be 
 made but the accessary. That which maketh the effect more 
 pernicious is, that all proportion is 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 the 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 4 upon their bowl, of their own petty ends and 
 
 1 Shrewd. Mischievous. 
 
 ' Do my Lord of Canterbury 
 
 A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever/ ShaTcespere. 
 3 Waste. To lay waste ; to desolate. 
 
 ' Peace to corrupt, no less than war to waste.' Milton. 
 
 3 Crook. To pervert. ' St. Augustine sayeth himself that images be of more 
 force to crooke an unhappye soule than to teach and instruct him.' Homilies 
 ' Sermon against Idolatry.' 
 
 4 Bias. A weight lodged on one side of the bowl, which turns it from the 
 straight line. 
 
 ' Madam, we'll play at bowls, 
 'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs, 
 And that my fortune runs against the bias.' Shakespere.
 
 Essay xxiii.] Annotations. 255 
 
 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 1 they will set 
 a house on fire and 2 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 3 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 some time before its 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' 4 are many times unfortunate; and whereas they 
 have all their time sacrificed to themselves, they become in the 
 end themselves sacrifices to the inconstancy of fortune, whose 
 wings they thought by their self-wisdom to have pinioned. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 'An ant is a shrewd thing in a garden' 
 
 This was probably the established notion in Bacon's time, 
 as it is with some, perhaps, now. People seeing plants in a 
 sickly state covered with ants, attributed the mischief to them ; 
 the fact being that the ants do them neither harm nor good, 
 but are occupied in sucking the secretion of the aphides which 
 swarm on diseased plants, and are partly the cause, partly the 
 effect of disease. If he had carefully watched the ants, he 
 
 1 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 * And. If. 'An' it like you.' Shakespere. 
 
 3 Respect. Consideration. 
 
 ' There's the respect 
 That makes calamity of so long life.' ShaJcespere. 
 
 4 ' Lovers of themselves without a rival.' Cic. ad Q. F. 1 1 1, 8.
 
 256 Of Wisdom for a Man's Self. [Essay xxiii. 
 
 would have seen them sucking the aphides, and the aphides 
 sucking the plant. 
 
 But Bacon, though he had a great fancy for making obser- 
 vations and experiments in every branch of natural philosophy 
 and natural history, was remarkably unskilful in that depart- 
 ment. His observations were slight and inaccurate, and his 
 reasonings from them very rash. It is true we ought not to 
 measure a man of those days by the standard of the present, 
 when science has partly through Bacon's means made such 
 advances. But he was below (in this point) what might have 
 been attained, and was attained, in his own day. Copernicus' 
 theory was not unknown in hia day: yet he seems to have 
 thought lightly of it. Also Gilbert the Magnetist he did not 
 duly appreciate. And most remarkable of all, perhaps, is his 
 error noticed in the preface respecting the Misselto; a 
 trifling matter in itself; but the casting up of a sum is a test of 
 one's arithmetic, whether the items be farthings or pounds. 
 
 Unlike Bacon, Socrates greatly discouraged all branches of 
 natural philosophy. According to Xenophon, he derided those 
 who inquired concerning the motions of the heavenly bodies, 
 the tides, the atmosphere, &c., asking whether they expected to 
 be able to control these things ? or whether, again, they had so 
 completely mastered all that related to human affairs, of which 
 Man does possess the control, that they might afford to devote 
 themselves to speculations remote from practice ? 
 
 That nature can be controlled, by obeying (and only by 
 obeying) her laws (' Naturae non imperatur, nisi parendo '), the 
 maxim which Bacon so earnestly dwells on, and which furnishes 
 the proper answer though well worthy of that earnestness, 
 is what all mankind even savages have always in some degree 
 acted on. For he who sows his corn at the season when he 
 has observed that fertilizing rains may be expected, and so that 
 by the time it approaches maturity the season of sunshine may 
 be expected, does virtually command rain and sun. And the 
 mariner commands the winds and tides, who so times his voyage, 
 from observation, as to be likely to meet with favourable winds 
 and tides. And so in an infinite number of other cases.
 
 Essay xxiii.] Annotations. 257 
 
 ' Divide with reason 1 between self-love and society; and be so true 
 to thyself as thou be not false to others.' 
 
 The difference between self-love and selfishness has been well 
 explained by Aristotle, though he has not accounted for the use 
 of the word <f)i\avria. It is clear that selfishness exists only in 
 reference to others, and could have no place in one who lived 
 alone on a desert island, though he might have of course every 
 degree of self-love; for selfishness is not an excess of self-love, 
 and consists not in an over-desire of happiness, but in placing 
 your happiness in something which interferes with, or leaves 
 you regardless of, that of others. 2 Nor are we to suppose that 
 selfishness and want of feeling are either the same dr insepa- 
 rable. For, on the one hand, I have known such as have had 
 very little feeling, but felt for others as much nearly as for 
 themselves, and were, therefore, far from selfish ; and, on the 
 other hand, some, of very acute feelings, feel for no one but 
 themselves, and, indeed, are sometimes amongst the most cruel. 
 
 Under this head of the ' dividing between self-love and 
 society' may be placed a distinction made by Bishop Copleston 3 
 between two things which he says are occasionally confounded 
 by Locke, as well as most other writers on education. 'Two 
 things/ he remarks, ' ought to be kept perfectly distinct viz., 
 that mode of education which would be most beneficial, as a 
 system, to society at large, with that which would contribute 
 most to the advantage and prosperity of an individual. Now, 
 the peculiar interest of the individual is not always the same, 
 is seldom precisely the same, is even frequently at variance, 
 with the interest of the Public. And he who serves the one 
 most faithfully, always forgets, and often injures, the other. 
 The latter is that alone which deserves the attention of a 
 philosopher ; the former individual interest is narrow, selfish, 
 and mercenary. It is the mode of education which would fit 
 for a specific employment, or contribute most to individual 
 advantage and prosperity, on which the world are most eager to 
 inform themselves ; but the persons who instruct them, how- 
 ever they may deserve the thanks and esteem of those whom 
 
 With reason. Fairly. 2 See Lessons on Morals, L. xvi. 3. 
 
 3 Memoir of Bishop Copleston, p. 307. 
 
 S
 
 258 Of Wisdom for a Man's Self. [Essay xxiii. 
 
 they benefit, do no service to mankind. There are but so many 
 good places in the theatre of life ; and he who puts us in the 
 way of procuring one of them does to us indeed a great favour, 
 but none to the whole assembly/ He adds a little after, ' A 
 wide space is left to the discretion of the individual, where the 
 claims of the community are either not pressing or wholly 
 silent/ 
 
 Another point in which the advantage of the individual is 
 quite distinct from that of the public, I have touched upon in 
 a Lecture on the Professions, 1 from which I take the liberty of 
 adding an extract. ' It is worth remarking that there is one 
 point wherein some branches of the Law differ from others, and 
 agree with some professions of a totally different class. Superior 
 ability and professional skill, in a Judge, or a Conveyancer, 
 are, if combined with integrity, a public benefit. They 
 confer a service on certain individuals, not at the expense of 
 any others : and the death or retirement of a man thus qualified, 
 is a loss to the community. And the same may be said of a 
 physician, a manufacturer, a navigator, &c., of extraordinary 
 ability. A pleader, on the contrary, of powers far above the 
 average, is not, as such, serviceable to the Public. He obtains 
 wealth and credit for himself and his family; but any special 
 advantage accruing from his superior ability, to those who 
 chance to be his clients, is just so much loss to those he chances 
 to be opposed to : and which party is, on each occasion, in 
 the right, must be regarded as an even chance. His death, 
 therefore, would be no loss to the Public ; only, to those parti- 
 cular persons who might have benefited by his superior abilities, 
 at their opponents' expense. It is not that advocates, generally, 
 are not useful to the Public. They are even necessary. But 
 extraordinary ability in an advocate, is an advantage only to 
 himself and his friends. To the Public, the most desirable thing 
 is, that pleaders should be as equally matched as possible ; so 
 that neither John Doe nor Richard Roe should have any advan- 
 tage independent of the goodness of his cause. 2 Extraordinary 
 
 1 Reprinted in the Elements of Rhetoric. 
 
 1 On this it has been remarked by an intelligent writer, that, when there are 
 two very superior pleaders in existence, the death of one of them would be a 
 national loss. And this would hold good, if the two were always engaged on oppo- 
 site sides. But that is so far from being necessarily, or usually, tlie case, that,
 
 Essay xxiii.] Annotations. 
 
 ability in an advocate may indeed raise him to great wealth, or 
 to a seat on the bench, or in the senate ; and he may use these 
 advantages as many illustrious examples show, greatly to the 
 public benefit. But then, it is not as an advocate, directly, 
 but as a rich man, as a judge, or as a senator, that he thus 
 benefits his country/ 
 
 ' Bad officers, treasurers, ambassadors, generals, and other false 
 and corrupt servants, set a bias upon their bowl, of their own 
 petty ends and envies, to the overthrow of their master' s great 
 and important affairs. 
 
 It seems not to have occurred to Bacon that the mischief 
 he so well describes could take place except from the selfish 
 wisdom of persons entrusted with some employment, and sacri- 
 ficing the interest of their employer to their own. But, in 
 truth, the greatest amount of evils of this class that is, the 
 sacrifice of public good to individual profit, has arisen from the 
 favour claimed by, and shown to, certain classes of men, in no 
 official situation, who have persuaded the nation (and, doubtless, 
 sometimes themselves also), that their own interest .was that of 
 the State. Both the Spaniards and the English prohibited 
 their colonies from trading with any but the mother-country; 
 and also from manufacturing for themselves; though the 
 colonists were fellow-citizens, and were virtually taxed for the 
 profit, not of the State, but of certain manufacturers and mer- 
 chants. For, if they had found the goods produced in the 
 mother-country to be cheaper and better than they could make 
 for themselves, or buy elsewhere, they would have supplied 
 themselves with these of their own accord, without need of pro- 
 hibiting laws ; but whenever this was not the case that is, 
 whenever there was any occasion for such a law, it is plain 
 they were paying an extra price, or buying inferior articles, for 
 the profit of the manufacturers at home. Yet this never seemed 
 to strike even the Americans themselves, or their advocates, at 
 the time when the revolt broke out. It was only avowed taxa- 
 
 on the contrary, it is a common practice for a party who has engaged a very 
 eminent barrister to plead for him, to give also to another eminent hamster a 
 retaining-fee (it might be called a restraining-fee), without expecting him to take 
 any part in the pleading, but merely to prevent his being engaged by the opposite 
 party. 
 
 S 2
 
 260 Of Wisdom for a Man's Self. [Essay xxiii. 
 
 tion for the benefit of the government at home (which had laid 
 out something for them) that they complained of. 
 
 And this did not arise from comparative indifference to the 
 welfare of our colonial fellow-subjects; for the like sort of 
 policy has been long pursued at home. We imported timber of 
 inferior quality from Canada, when better was to be had at a 
 tenth part of the distance, lest saw-mills in Canada, and timber- 
 ships engaged in that trade, should suffer a diminution of profit ; 
 though the total value of them all put together did not probably 
 equal the annual loss sustained by the Public. And we pro- 
 hibited the refining of sugar in the sugar colonies, and chose to 
 import it in the most bulky and most perishable form, for the 
 benefit of a few English sugar-bakers ; whose total profits did 
 not probably amount to as many shillings as the nation lost 
 pounds. 
 
 And the land-owners maintained, till very lately, a monopoly 
 against the bread-consumers, which amounted virtually to a tax 
 on every loaf, for the sake of keeping up rents. 
 
 ' Other selfishness/ (says Mr. Senior, in his Lectures on 
 Political Economy,) ' may be as intense, but none is so unblush- 
 ing, because none so much tolerated, as that of a monopolist 
 claiming a vested interest in a public injury/ But, doubtless, 
 many of these claimants persuaded themselves, as well as the 
 nation, that they were promoting the public good.
 
 ESSAY XXIY. OF INNOVATIONS. 
 
 AS the births of living creatures at first are ill-shapen, so are 
 all innovations, which are the births of time : yet, notwith- 
 standing, as those that first bring honour into their family are 
 commonly more worthy than most that succeed, so the first 
 precedent (if it be good) is seldom attained by imitation : for 
 ill, to man's nature as it stands perverted, hath a natural motion, 
 strongest in continuance ; but good, as a forced motion, strongest 
 at first. Surely 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 alters things to 1 
 the worse, and wisdom and counsel shall not alter them to the 
 better, what shall be the end ? 
 
 It is tr,ue 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 with them- 
 selves ; whereas new things piece not so well ; but, though 
 they help by their utility, yet they trouble by their incon- 
 formity; 2 besides, they are like strangers, more admired, 
 and less favoured. All this is true, if time stood still ; 
 which, contrariwise, moveth so round, 3 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, and by degrees scarce to be perceived ; for other- 
 wise, whatsoever is new is unlooked for and ever it mends 
 some, and pairs 4 others ; and he that is holpeii takes it for a 
 fortune, and thanks the time ; and he that is hurt, for a wrong, 
 
 1 To. For. 
 
 ' Marks and points out each man of us to slaughter.' Sen Jonson. 
 
 2 Inconforinity. Incongruity; discordance. 
 
 3 Round. Sapid. ' Sir Roger heard them on a round trot.' Addison. 
 * Pair. To impair. 
 
 ' ' No faith so fast,' quoth she, ' but flesh tloespaire.' 
 ' Flesh may impaire,' quoth he, ' but reason can repaire.' ' Spenser. 
 ' What profiteth it to a man if he wynne all the world, and do peyringe to his 
 soul ? ' Wickliff's Translation of Mark viii.
 
 262 
 
 Of Innovations. 
 
 [Essay xxiv. 
 
 and irnputeth 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 1 the reformation: and lastly, that the novelty, though 
 it be not rejected, yet be held for a suspect; 2 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 
 right way, and so to walk in it/ 3 
 
 ANTITHETA ON INNOVATIONS. 
 
 PEO. 
 
 ' Omnis medicina innovatio. 
 ' Every medicament is an innovation.' 
 
 ' Qui nova remedia fugit, nova mala 
 operitur. 
 
 ' He who shun-s new remedies must 
 expect new evils.' 
 
 ' Novator maximus tempus : quidni 
 igitur tempus imitemur ? 
 
 ' Time is the great innovator ; why 
 then not imitate Time ? ' 
 
 ' Morosa morum retentio, res turbu- 
 lenta est seque ac novitas. 
 
 ' A stubborn adherence to old practices 
 breeds tumults no less than novelty.' 
 
 1 Cum per se res mutentur in deterius, 
 si consilio in metius non mutentur, quis 
 finis erit mali ? 
 
 ' Since things spontaneously change 
 for the worse, if they be not by design 
 changed for the better, evils must accu- 
 mulate without end.' 
 
 CONTBA. 
 
 ' Nullus auctor placet, praeter tempus. 
 ' One bows willingly to no authority 
 but Time.' 
 
 'Nulla novitas absque injuria; nam 
 prasentia convellit. 
 
 ' Every novelty does some hurt, for it 
 unsettles what is established.' 
 
 ' Quae usu obtinuere, si non bona, at 
 saltern apta inter se sunt. 
 
 ' Things that are settled by long use, 
 if not absolutely good, at least fit well 
 together.' 
 
 ' Quis novator tempus imitatur, quod 
 novationes ita insinuat, ut sensus fallant ? 
 
 ' Show me the innovator who imitates 
 Time, that slides in changes imper- 
 ceptibly.' 
 
 ' Quod prseter spem evenit, cui pro- 
 dest, minus acceptum ; cui obest magis 
 molestum. 
 
 ' What happens unexpectedly, is, for 
 that reason, less welcome to him whom 
 it profits, and more galling to him whom 
 it hurls' 
 
 1 Pretend. To put forward or exhibit as a cover. 
 
 ' Lest that heavenly form, pretended 
 To hellish falsehood, snare them.' Milton. 
 
 2 Suspect. Something suspicious. ' If the king ends the difference, and takes 
 away the suspect.' Suckling. 
 
 8 Compare Jer. vi. 16.
 
 Essay xxiv.] Annotations. 263 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' Time is the greatest innovator.' 
 
 When Bacon speaks of time as an ' innovator/ he might 
 have remarked, by the way what of course he well knew 
 that though this is an allowable and convenient form of expres- 
 sion, it is not literally correct. Bishop Copleston, in the remark 
 already referred to in the notes on 'Delays/ terms the regarding 
 time as an agent, one of the commonest errors; for, 'in reality 
 time does nothing and is nothing. We use it/ he goes on to 
 say, 'as a compendious expression for all those causes which 
 act slowly and imperceptibly. But, unless some positive cause 
 is in action, no change takes place in the lapse of one thousand 
 years ; as, for instance, in a drop of water enclosed in a cavity 
 of silex. The most intelligent writers are not free from this 
 illusion. For instance, Simond, in his Switzerland, speaking 
 of a mountain- scene, says ' The quarry from which the mate- 
 rials of the bridge came, is just above your head, and the miners 
 are still at work : air-j water, frost, weight, and time.' Thus, too, 
 those politicians who object to any positive enactments affecting 
 the Constitution, and who talk of the gentle operation of time, 
 and of our Constitution itself being the work of time, forget 
 that it is human agency all along which is the efficient cause. 
 Time does nothing/ Thus far Bishop Copleston. 1 
 
 But we are so much influenced by our own use of language, 
 that, though no one can doubt, when the question is put before 
 him, that effects are produced not by time, but in time, we are 
 accustomed to represent Time as armed with a scythe, and 
 mowing down all before him. 
 
 ' New things are like strangers, more admired, and less 
 favoured.' 
 
 Bacon has omitted to notice, in reference to this point, what 
 nevertheless is well worth remarking as a curious circumstance, 
 that there are in most languages proverbial sayings respecting 
 it, apparently opposed to each other; as for instance, that men 
 are attached to what they have been used to ; that use is a 
 
 Remains of Bishop Copleston.
 
 264 Of Innovations. [Essay xxiv. 
 
 second nature; that they fondly cling to the institutions and 
 practices they have been accustomed to, and can hardly be 
 prevailed on to change them even for better; and then, again, 
 on the other side, that men have a natural craving for novelty; 
 that unvarying sameness is tiresome ; that some variety some 
 change, even for the worse, is agreeably refreshing, &c. 
 
 The truth is, that in all the serious and important affairs of 
 life men are attached to what they have been used to ; in 
 matters of ornament they covet novelty; in all systems and 
 institutions in all the ordinary business of life in all funda- 
 mentals they cling to what is the established course; in matters 
 of detail in what lies, as it were, on the surface they seek 
 variety. Man may, in reference to this point, be compared to 
 a tree, whose stem and main branches stand year after year, but 
 whose leaves and flowers are fresh every season. 
 
 In most countries people like change in the fashions of their 
 dress and furniture; in almost all, they like new music, new 
 poems, and novels (so called in reference to this taste), pictures, 
 flowers, games, &c., but they are wedded to what is established 
 in laws, institutions, systems, and in all that relates to the main 
 business of life. 
 
 This distinction is one which it may often be of great impor- 
 tance to keep in mind. For instance, the ancient Romans and 
 other Pagans seldom objected to the addition of a new god to 
 their list ; and it is said that some of them actually did propose 
 to enrol Jesus among the number. This was quite consonant 
 to the genius of their mythological system. But the overthrow 
 of the whole system itself, and the substitution of a fundamen- 
 tally different religion, was a thing they at first regarded with 
 alarm and horror ; all their feelings were enlisted against such 
 a radical change. So also in the unreformed Churches. The 
 enrolment from time to time of a new Saint in the calendar, or 
 the promulgation of a new Dogma, are acceptable novelties. 
 But those who would abolish all saint-worship, and restore 
 Christianity to its primitive purity, are denounced as heretical 
 innovators. Any one, therefore, who should imagine that the 
 Gospel may have been originally received with some degree of 
 favour on account of its being new, because, forsooth, men 
 like novelties, and that, therefore, something short of the most 
 overpowering miraculous proofs might have sufficed for its in-
 
 Essay xxiv.] Annotations. 
 
 troduetioii and spread, such a person must have entirely over- 
 looked the distinction between the kinds of things in which 
 men do or do not favour what is new. 
 
 And the like holds good in all departments of life. New 
 medicines, for instance, come into vogue from time to time, 
 with or without good reason ; but a fundamentally new system 
 of medicine, whether right or wrong, is sure to have the strongest 
 prejudices enlisted against it. If, when the celebrated Harvey 
 discovered the circulation of the blood, he had, on the ground 
 that people often readily introduced some new medicine, calcu- 
 lated on a favourable reception, or even a fair hearing, for his 
 doctrine, which went to establish a fundamental revolution, he 
 would soon have been undeceived by the vehement and general 
 opposition with which he was encountered. Astronomers, again, 
 hail with glad welcome (as we have often seen of late years) the 
 discovery of a new Planet or Comet. But the doctrine of 
 Copernicus and Galileo, which went to subvert the existing 
 System of astronomy, met with a very different reception. 
 
 And it was the physicians of the highest standing that most 
 opposed Harvey. It was the most experienced navigators that 
 opposed Columbus' views. It was those most conversant with 
 the management of the Post-office that were the last to approve 
 of the plan of the uniform penny- postage. The most eminent 
 Engineers were those most opposed to locomotive steam-carriages; 
 and derided George Stephenson, to whom, chiefly, if not wholly, 
 we owe the great revolution these have produced in the whole 
 civilized World, for his extravagant expectation that they could 
 be propelled at the rate of twelve miles an hour ! For, the 
 greater any one's experience and skill in his own department, 
 and the more he is entitled to the deference which is pro- 
 verbially clue to each man in his own province [' peritis creden- 
 dum est in arte sua'], the more likely, indeed, he will be to be 
 a good judge of improvements in details, or even to introduce 
 them himself; but the more unlikely to give a fair hearing to 
 any proposed radical change. An experienced stage-coachman 
 is likely to be a good judge of all that relates to turnpike- 
 roads and coach-horses; but you should not consult him about 
 railroads and steam- carriages. Again, every one knows how 
 slowly and with what difficulty farmers are prevailed on to 
 adopt any new system of husbandry, even when the faults of an
 
 266 Of Innovations. [Essay xxiv. 
 
 old established usage, and the advantage of a change, can be 
 made evident to the senses. 
 
 An anecdote 1 is told of a gentleman who, in riding through 
 the deep and shady Devonshire lanes, became entangled in the 
 intricacies of their numberless windings ; and not being able to 
 obtain a sufficiently wide view of the country to know where- 
 abouts he was, trotted briskly on, in the confident hope that he 
 should at length come to some house whose inhabitants would 
 direct him, or to some more open spot from which he could 
 take a survey of the different roads, and observe whither they 
 led. After proceeding a long time in this manner, he was sur- 
 prised to find a perfect uniformity in the country through which 
 he passed, and to meet with no human being, nor come in sight 
 of any habitation. He was, however, encouraged by observing, 
 as he advanced, the prints of horses' feet, which indicated that 
 he was in no unfrequented track : these became continually 
 more and more numerous the further he went, so as to afford 
 him a still increasing assurance of his being in the immediate 
 neighbourhood of some great road or populous village ; and he 
 accordingly paid the less anxious attention to the bearings of 
 the country, from being confident that he was in the right way. 
 But still he saw neither house nor human creature; and, at 
 length the recurrence of the same objects by the roadside, 
 opened his eyes to the fact, that all this time, misled by the 
 multitude of the turnings, he had been riding in a circle ; and 
 that the footmarks, the sight of which had so cheered him, 
 were those of his own horse ; their number, of course, increas- 
 ing with every circuit he took. Had he not fortunately made 
 this discovery, perhaps he might have been riding there now. 
 
 The truth of the tale (and we can assure our readers that we 
 at least did not invent it) does not make it the less useful by 
 way of apologue : and the moral we would deduce from it is, 
 that in many parts of the conduct of life, and not least in 
 government and legislation, men are liable to follow the track 
 of their own footsteps, to set themselves an example, and to 
 flatter themselves that they are going right, from their con- 
 formity to their own precedent. 
 
 It is commonly and truly said, when any new and untried 
 
 What follows is extracted from the London Review of 1829.
 
 Essay xxiv.] Annotations. 267 
 
 measure is proposed, that we cannot fully estimate the incon- 
 veniences it may lead to in practice ; but we are convinced this 
 is even still more the case with any system which has long been 
 in operation. The evils to which it may contribute, and the 
 obstacles it may present to the attainment of any good, are 
 partly overlooked, or lightly regarded, on account of their 
 familiarity, partly attributed to such other causes as perhaps 
 really do co-operate in producing the same effects, and ranked 
 along with the unavoidable alloys of human happiness, the 
 inconveniences from which no human policy can entirely exempt 
 us. In some remote and unimproved districts, if you complain 
 of the streets of a town being dirty and dark, as those of 
 London were for many ages, the inhabitants tell you that the 
 nights are cloudy and the weather rainy : as for their streets, 
 they are just such as they have long been ; and the expedient of 
 paving and lighting has occurred to nobody. The ancient 
 Romans had, probably, no idea that a civilized community could 
 exist without slaves. That the same work can be done much 
 better and cheaper by freemen, and that their odious system 
 contained the seeds of the destruction of their empire, were 
 truths which, familiarized as they were to the then existing state 
 of society, they were not likely to suspect. 'If you allow of 
 no plundering/ said an astonished Mahratta chief to some Eng- 
 lish officers, ' how is it possible for you to maintain such fine 
 armies as you bring into the field?' He and his ancestors, 
 time out of mind, had doubtless \teen following their own foot- 
 steps in the established routine ; and had accordingly never 
 dreamed that pillage is inexpedient as a source of revenue, or 
 even one that can possibly be dispensed with. ' That is the way 
 it is always done, Sir;' or ' We always do so and so;'' are the 
 answers generally returned by the vulgar to an inquiry as to 
 the reason of any practice. Recent experiment, indeed, may 
 bring to light and often exaggerate the defects of a new system ; 
 but long familiarity blinds us to those very defects. 1 
 
 And among the obstacles those have to encounter who are 
 advocating any kind of novelty, this is one : that every instance of 
 failure in the application of any new system is sure to be, by 
 most people, attributed to the system itself ; while in the case 
 
 1 London Review, 1829.
 
 268 Of Innovations. [Essay xxiv. 
 
 of an old and established system, any failure is either reckoned 
 a mere unavoidable accident, or is attributed to the individual. 
 
 If, for instance, some crop turns out ill, under an established 
 system of agriculture, this failure is attributed either to, the 
 weather, or else to unskilfulness in the individual farmer ; but 
 if it takes place under a new system of husbandry, it will usually 
 be taken as a decisive proof that the system itself is wrong. 
 So again, if a patient dies, under the routine-system of Medi- 
 cine, blame is laid, if there be any, on the individual practi- 
 tioner : but if a patient die who has been treated according 
 to some new system, this is likely to be taken as conclusive 
 against the system itself. And so, in other cases. 
 
 The reluctance to change operates chiefly in reference to what- 
 ever men have been very long used to, and does not extend to 
 what is recent. And hence, in any case where a change is de- 
 sirable, it is a great point gained, to have brought about some 
 change, even though it may have been little or no improvement ; 
 because we have then a fairer prospect of a further and better 
 change. A remedy of the remedy, a removal of newly-intro- 
 duced inconveniences is a change far easier to be effected than 
 the first change. Alterations in any building are easily made 
 while the mortar is wet. ' So it is in legislation and in all hu- 
 man affairs. While the most inconvenient and absurd laws are 
 suffered to remain unchanged for successive generations, hardly 
 an Act is passed that any defects in it are not met by ' acts to 
 amend ' it, in the next and in succeeding sessions. 
 
 ' Those who remember the University of Oxford at the com- 
 mencement of this century, when, in fact, it hardly deserved 
 the name of an university, who remember with what difficulty, 
 and after what long delay, the first statute for Degree-examina- 
 tions was introduced how palpable were the defects of that 
 statute, and how imperfectly it worked, and, lastly, how easily, 
 in comparison, these defects were, one by one, remedied, and 
 successive improvements from time to time introduced, such 
 persons must have profited little by experience, if they deprecate 
 the application of any remedy to any existing law or institution 
 that is in itself evil, for fear the remedy should not be such, in 
 the first essay, as to meet their wishes/ 1 
 
 1 See Kingdom of Christ, Appendix to Essay ii. note 0, p. 355, 4th edition.
 
 Essay xxiv.] Annotations. 269 
 
 ' A froward retention of custom is as turbulent as an innova- 
 tion ; and they that reverence old times too much are but a 
 scorn to the new.' 
 
 To avoid the two opposite evils the liability to sudden and 
 violent changes, and the adherence to established usage, when 
 inconvenient or mischievous, to give the requisite stability to 
 governments and other institutions, without shutting the door 
 against improvement, this is a problem which both ancient and 
 modern legislators have not well succeeded in solving. Some, 
 like the ancient Medes and Persians, and like Lycurgus, have 
 attempted to prohibit all change ; but those who constantly 
 appeal to the wisdom of their ancestors as a sufficient reason 
 for perpetuating everything these have established, forget two 
 things : first, that they cannot hope to persuade all suc- 
 cessive generations of men that there was once one genera- 
 tion of such infallible wisdom as to be entitled to control all 
 their descendants for ever; which is to make the earth, in fact, 
 the possession not of the living, but of the dead ; and, secondly, 
 that even supposing our ancestors gifted with such infallibility, 
 many cases must arise in which it may be reasonably doubted 
 whether they themselves would not have advocated, if living, 
 changes called for by altered circumstances. For instance, those 
 who denoted the southern quarter from meridies (noon) would 
 not have been so foolish as to retain that language had they 
 gone to live in a hemisphere where the sun at noon is in the 
 north. But, as Dr. Cooke Taylor remarks in The Bishop : 
 ' An antiquated form, however perverted from its original pur- 
 pose, gratifies the lazy in their love of ease ; it saves them the 
 trouble of exchanging their old mumpsimus for the new sump- 
 simus : and new the sumpsimus must appear, though it be a 
 restoration ; it averts the mortification of confessing error, 
 which is always so abhorrent to the self-satisfied stupidity of 
 those who grow old without gaining experience/ 
 
 ' Vel quia nil rectum, nisi quod placuit sibi, ducunt j 
 Vel quia turpe putant parere minoribus, et quae 
 Imberbi didicere, senes perdenda fateri.' 
 
 It is to be observed, however, that in almost every depart- 
 ment of life, the evil that has very long existed will often be
 
 2 7o Of Innovations. [Essay xxiv. 
 
 less clearly perceived, and less complained of, than in propor- 
 tion to the actual extent of the evil. 
 
 ' If you look to any department of government, or to any 
 parish or diocese, that has long been left to the management of 
 apathetic or inefficient persons, you will usually find that there 
 are few or no complaints ; because complaints having long since 
 been found vain, will have long since ceased to be made. There 
 will be no great arrears of business undone, and of applications 
 unanswered ; because business will not have been brought before 
 those who it is known will not transact it ; nor applications 
 made, to which no answer can be hoped for. Abuses, and defects, 
 and evils of various kinds, which ought to have been prevented 
 or remedied, men will have learned to submit to as to visitations 
 of Providence ; having been left without redress till they have 
 at length forgotten that any redress is due, or is possible : and 
 this stagnation will have come to be regarded as the natural 
 state of things. 
 
 1 Hence, it will often happen that in a parish for instance, 
 where for a long time very little has been done, it will appear at 
 first sight as if there were in fact very little to do : the spiritual 
 wants of members of the Church not appearing to be unattended 
 to, because many persons will have ceased to be members of the 
 Church, and many others will be unconscious that they have any 
 spiritual wants. 
 
 ' And in a Church, accordingly, that has been long without an 
 efficient government, the want of such government will often be 
 very inadequately perceived, from its not even occurring to men 
 to consider whether the enormous increase of dissent, of inter- 
 nal discord, and of indifference to the Church, are evils which 
 ' f ' 
 
 it comes within the province of a government in any degree to 
 prevent or mitigate.' 1 
 
 With those who maintain that the present is not the best 
 time, on account of the violence of contending parties for 
 the restoration of a Church-government, T so far agree, that I am 
 convinced it would have been much better to have taken the step 
 several years ago ; before the excitement caused by one of those 
 parties had arisen; and yet better, some years earlier still, when 
 
 1 This, and another passage in this note, are extracted from Thoughts on 
 Chu rch-government.
 
 Essay xxiv.] Annotations. 271 
 
 the removal of religious disabilities first left the Church desti- 
 tute of any legislature consisting exclusively of its own members : 
 and that, again, a still earlier period would have been preferable, 
 when considerable attention was for a time attracted to a 
 work on the subject, by a person, then, holding the office of 
 Archdeacon. 
 
 ' But it is far from being sufficient, as seems to be the 
 notion of some persons to show that the present is not the 
 fittest conceivable occasion for taking a certain step. Besides this, 
 it is requisite to show, not merely that a better occasion may 
 be imagined, or that a better occasion is past; that the 
 Sibylline Books might have been purchased cheaper some time 
 ago; but that a more suitable occasion is likely to arise here- 
 after : and how soon ; and also, that the mischief which may be 
 going on during the interval will be more than compensated by 
 the superior suitableness of that future occasion ; in short, that 
 it will have been worth waiting for. And in addition to all this, 
 it is requisite to show also the probability that when this golden 
 opportunity shall arise, men will be more disposed to take ad- 
 vantage of it than they have heretofore appeared to be ; that 
 they will not again fall into apathetic security, and fondness for 
 indefinite procrastination. 
 
 ( This last point is as needful to be established as any; for it 
 is remarkable that those who deprecate taking any step just now, 
 in these times of extraordinary excitement, did not, on those 
 former occasions, come forward to propose taking advantage of 
 a comparatively calmer state of things. They neither made any 
 call, nor responded to the call made by others. 
 
 ' And indeed all experience seems to show comparing the 
 apathy on the subject which was so general at those periods, 
 with the altered state of feeling now existing, that a great and 
 pressing emergency, and nothing else, will induce men to take 
 any step in this matter; and that a period of dissension and 
 perplexing difficulty, is, though not, in itself, the most suitable 
 occasion for such a step, yet constituted as human nature is 
 the best, because the only occasion on which one can hope that 
 it will be taken. A season of famine may have been, in some 
 respects, a bad occasion for altering the corn-laws; but expe- 
 rience showed that nothing less would suffice. 
 
 ' When the valley of Martigny, in Switzerland, was threatened
 
 272 Of Innovations. [Essay xxiv. 
 
 (a good many years ago) with a frightful deluge from the 
 bursting of a lake formed by a glacier which had dammed up a 
 river, the inhabitants were for some time not sufficiently alarmed 
 to take steps for averting the danger, by cutting channels to let 
 off the water. They cannot, therefore, be said to have chosen 
 the best time for commencing their operations ; for had they 
 begun earlier, as soon as ever the dam was formed the work 
 would have been much easier, and probably all damage would 
 have been prevented. As it was, they had to encounter much 
 difficulty, and, after all, were but partially successful : for the 
 undrained portion of the lake did at length burst the barrier, 
 and considerable damage ensued; perhaps a fourth part of what 
 would have taken place had things been left to themselves. 
 But they were wise in not deferring their operations yet longer, 
 in the hope that matters would mend spontaneously, when they 
 saw that the evil was daily increasing. And after having miti- 
 gated in a great degree the calamity that did ensue, they took 
 measures to provide against the like in future. 
 
 ' Still, however, we must expect to be told by many, that, 
 sooner or later, matters will come right spontaneously, if left 
 untouched ; that, in time, though we cannot tell how soon, a 
 period of extraordinary excitement is sure to be succeeded by 
 one of comparative calm. In the meantime it is forgotten at 
 what cost such spontaneous restoration of tranquillity is usually 
 purchased how much the fire will have consumed before it 
 shall have burnt out of itself. The case is very similar to what 
 takes place in the natural body : the anguish of acute inflam- 
 mation, when left to itself, is succeeded by the calm of a morti- 
 fication : a limb is amputated, or drops off; and the body but 
 no longer the whole body is restored to a temporary ease, at 
 the expense of a mutilation. Who can say that a large pro- 
 portion of those who are now irrecoverably alienated from the 
 Church, might not have been at this moment sound members 
 of it, had timely steps been taken, not by any departure from 
 the principles of our Reformers, but by following more closely 
 the track they marked out for us?' 
 
 One, however, of the greatest difficulties attending the intro- 
 duction of any alteration into any Formulary, is, that inferences 
 from this are likely to be drawn, which would not at all have 
 occurred to any one from the same words, if they had been in
 
 Essay xxiv.] Annotations. 273 
 
 the same place originally. For instance, there are religious 
 Communities who have not introduced into their Services the 
 Creeds, and the Commandments, but which are not thereupon 
 suspected of having denied the Faith, or annulled moral obliga- 
 tion. Yet this suspicion would be likely to arise against any 
 Church which did use those Forms, and afterwards expunged 
 them. Whenever there is an amputation, there will be a 
 wound and a lasting scar. 
 
 It is true, that whatever is established, and already existing, 
 has a presumption on its side; that is, the burden of proof lies 
 on those who propose a change. No one is called on to bring 
 reasons against any alteration, till some reasons have been 
 offered for it. But the deference which is thus claimed for old 
 laws and institutions is sometimes extended (through the ambi- 
 guity of language the use of ( old' for 'ancient') 1 to what are 
 called ' the good old times;' as if the world had formerly been 
 older, instead of younger, than it is now. But it is manifest 
 that the advantage possessed by old men that of long experience 
 must belong to the present age more than to any preceding. 
 
 Is there not, then, some reason for the ridicule which Bacon 
 speaks of, as attaching to those ( who too much reverence old 
 times?' To say that no changes shall take place, is to talk 
 idly. We might as well pretend to control the motions of the 
 earth. To resolve that none shall take place except what are 
 undesigned and accidental, is to resolve that though a clock 
 may gain or lose indefinitely, at least we will take care that it 
 shall never be regulated. ' If time' (to use Bacon's warning 
 words) ' alters things to the worse, and wisdom and counsel 
 shall not alter them to the better, what shall be the end?' 
 
 ( It were good that men, in their innovations, would follow the 
 example of Time itself, which indeed innovateth greatly, but 
 quietly and by degrees scarce to be perceived' 
 
 There is no more striking instance of the silent and imper- 
 ceptible changes brought about by what is called ' Time/ than 
 that of a language becoming dead. To point out the precise 
 period at which Greek or Latin ceased to be a living language, 
 
 See Elements of Logic, Appendix. 
 T
 
 ^74 Of Innovations. [Essay xxiv. 
 
 would be as impossible as to say when a man becomes old. 
 And much confusion of thought and many important practical 
 results arise from not attending to this. For example, many 
 persons have never reflected on the circumstance that one of 
 the earliest translations of the Scriptures into a vernacular 
 tongue was made by the Church of Rome. The Latin Vulgate 
 was so called from its being in the vulgar, i.e. the popular 
 language then spoken in Italy and the neighbouring countries; 
 and that version was evidently made on purpose that the Scrip- 
 tures might be intelligibly read by, or read to, the mass of the 
 people. But gradually and imperceptibly Latin was superseded 
 by the languages derived from it Italian, Spanish, and French, 
 while the Scriptures were still left in Latin : and when it was 
 proposed to translate them into modern tongues, this was re- 
 garded as a perilous innovation ; though it is plain that the real 
 innovation was that which had taken place imperceptibly ; since 
 the very object proposed by the Vulgate-version was, that the 
 Scriptures might not be left in an unknown tongue. Yet we 
 meet with many among the fiercest declaimers against the 
 Church of Rome, who earnestly deprecate any the slightest 
 changes in our authorized version, and cannot endure even the 
 gradual substitution of other words for such as have become 
 obsolete, for fear of ' unsettling men's minds.' It never occurs 
 to them that it was this very dread that kept the Scrip- 
 tures in the Latin tongue, when that gradually became a dead 
 language. 
 
 It has been suggested in a popular Periodical, that if the 
 mass of the People had been habitual readers of the Vulgate, 
 Latin might have never become a dead language. No doubt, if 
 printing had been in use in those days, and the People gene- 
 rally had had as ready access to cheap Bibles as now, this 
 would have retarded and modified the change of the language. 
 But the case which is adduced as parallel is very far from being 
 such : namely, the stability given to our language by the use 
 of our English version. For, it ought not to have been for- 
 gotten that our country was not, like Italy subjugated and 
 overrun (subsequently to the translation of the Bible) by nume- 
 rous tribes speaking a different language. As it is, there can 
 indeed be no doubt that our Authorized Version, and our i 
 Prayer-book (and, in a minor degree, Shakespere and Bacou)
 
 Essay xxiv.] Annotations. 275 
 
 have contributed to give some fixedness to our language : but 
 after all, the changes that have actually taken place in it are 
 greater than perhaps some persons would at first sight suspect. 
 For, though the words in our Bible and Prayer-book which 
 have become wholly obsolete, are but few, the number is many 
 times greater, of words which, though still in common use, have 
 greatly changed their meaning : such as ' conversation/ ' con- 
 venient/ ' carriage/ (Acts xxi. 15) ' prevent/ ' reasonable/ 
 ' lively/ ' incomprehensible/ those most important words ' shall' 
 and 'will/ and many others. 1 And words which have thus 
 changed their meaning are, of course, much more likely to 
 perplex and bewilder the reader, than those entirely out of use. 
 These latter only leave him in darkness ; the others mislead 
 him by a false light. 
 
 Universally, the removal at once of the accumulated effects 
 gradually produced in a very long time, is apt to strike the 
 vulgar as a novelty, when, in truth, it is only a restoration of 
 things to their original state. 2 
 
 For example, suppose a clock to lose only one minute and a 
 few seconds in the week, and to be left unconnected for a year ; 
 it will then have lost a whole hour ; and any one who then sets 
 it right, will appear to the ignorant to have suddenly robbed 
 them of that amount of time. 
 
 This case is precisely analogous to that of the change of 
 style. There was, in what is called the Julian Calendar (that 
 fixed by Julius Csesar), a minute error, which made every fourth 
 year a trifle too long; in the course of centuries the error 
 amounted to eleven days, and when, about a century ago, we 
 rectified this (as had been done in Roman Catholic countries a 
 century earlier), this mode of reckoning was called ' the new 
 style.' The Russians, who still use what is called the ' old 
 style/ are, now, not eleven, but twelve days wrong ; that is, they 
 are one day further from the original position of the days of 
 the month, as fixed in the time of Julius Csesar : and this they 
 call adhering to the Julian Calendar. 
 
 So, also, to reject the religious practices and doctrines that 
 have crept in by little and little since the days of the Apostles, 
 
 1 See Bishop Hinds on the Authorized Version ; and also a most useful little 
 Vocabulary of Obsolete Words in our version, by the Rev. Mr. Booker. 
 
 2 See Cautions for the Times, No. 2. 
 
 T 2,
 
 2j6 Of Innovations. [Essay xxiv. 
 
 and thus to restore Christianity to what it was under them, 
 appears to the unthinking to be forsaking the old religion and 
 bringing in a new. Bishop Hinds's views, in his work on The 
 Three Temples, have been censured (as he himself had antici- 
 pated) as novel ; though so familiar to the Apostles as to have 
 tinged all their language ; as in their use of the word ' edify/ &c. 
 
 It is to be observed that hurtful changes are often attributed 
 to harmless ones; and apprehensions are entertained that a 
 change, however small, is necessarily a dangerous thing, as 
 tending to produce extensive and hurtful innovations. Many 
 instances may be found of small alterations being followed by 
 great and mischievous ones (' Post hoc ; ergo propter hoc'); but 
 I doubt whether all history can furnish an instance of the 
 greater innovation having been, properly speaking, caused by 
 the lesser. Of course, the first change will always precede the 
 second ; and many mischievous innovations have taken place ; 
 but these may often be explained by the too long postponement 
 of the requisite changes ; by the neglect of the homely old 
 proverb l A tile in time saves nine/ A house may stand for 
 ages if some very small repairs and alterations are promptly 
 made from time to time as they are needed ; whereas if decay 
 is suffered to go on unheeded, it may become necessary to pull 
 down and rebuild the whole house. The longer any needful 
 reform is delayed, the greater and the more difficult, and the 
 more sudden, and the more dangerous and unsettling, it will 
 be. And then, perhaps, those who had caused this delay by 
 their pertinacious resistance to any change at all, will point to 
 these evils evils brought on by themselves in justification of 
 their conduct. If they would have allowed a few broken slates 
 on the roof to be at once replaced by new ones, the timbers 
 would not have rotted, nor the walls, in consequence, leaned, 
 nor would the house have thence needed to be demolished and 
 rebuilt. 
 
 It is to be observed, however, that there does exist a danger 
 from any change which, though not bad in itself, is introduced 
 irregularly. And against this danger, a man of real good sense 
 will endeavour to provide, by observing betimes what changes 
 are desirable, or unavoidable, and seeking, not to have them 
 put off for a few years, but introduced in a regular and, conse- 
 quently, a safer mode. If, by competent authority an incon-
 
 Essay xxiv.] Annotations. 277 
 
 venient law is repealed, or some defect supplied in any of our 
 Institutions, civil or Ecclesiastical, this does not shake the whole 
 Fabric. But if, instead of this, the object is accomplished by 
 a violation of law, or by an irregular stretch of power, a dan- 
 gerous PRECEDENT is created, which may lead to evils far greater 
 than the immediate good at first aimed at. Indeed, a very 
 large portion of all the abuses that have ever existed, may be traced 
 to some evil precedent originating in some step that was in 
 itself beneficial. And the obvious precaution against this 
 danger is, (as I have said) to open the door betimes to needful 
 changes, instead of waiting till the door is broken open so that 
 it cannot afterwards be shut against such as are mischievous. 
 
 Most wise, therefore, is Bacon's admonition, to copy the 
 great innovator Time, by vigilantly watching for, and promptly 
 counteracting, the first small insidious approaches of decay, and 
 introducing gradually, from time to time, such small improve- 
 ments (individually small, but collectively great) as there may 
 be room for, and which will prevent the necessity of violent and 
 sweeping reformations. 
 
 ' It is good 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' 
 
 It has been above remarked that most men have no desire 
 for change, as change, in what concerns the serious business of 
 life. True it is, that great and sudden and violent changes do 
 take place that ancient institutions have been recklessly over- 
 thrown that sanguinary revolutions have taken place in quick 
 succession, and that new schemes, often the most wild and 
 extravagant, both in civil and religious matters, have been again 
 and again introduced. We need not seek far to find countries 
 that have had, within the memory of persons now living, not 
 less than nine or ten perfectly distinct systems of government. 
 But no changes of this kind ever originate in the mere love of 
 change for its own sake. Never do men adopt a new form of 
 government, or a new system of religion, merely from that de- 
 light in variety which leads them to seek new amusements, or 
 to alter the fashion of their dress. They seek changes in what 
 relates to serious matters of fundamental importauce, only
 
 278 Of Innovations. [Essay xxiv. 
 
 through the pressure of severe suffering, or of some vehement 
 want, or, at least, from the perception of some great evil or 
 deficiency. Widely as the vulgar are often mistaken as to the 
 causes of any distress, or as to the remedies to be sought, the 
 distress itself is real, when they aim at any great revolution. 
 If an infant beats its nurse, although its acts are as irrational 
 as those of a mad dog, you may be assured that it is really in 
 pain. And when men are suffering from a famine or pesti- 
 lence, though it is absurd for them to seek to obtain relief by 
 establishing a new kind of senate or parliament, or by setting 
 up a dictator, or by slaughtering all people of property, still the 
 evil itself is real, and is keenly felt ; and it is that, and not a 
 mere love of change, for change sake, that drives them to take 
 the most irrational steps. 1 
 
 And when evils are really occasioned by absurd and oppres- 
 sive laws and tyrannical governments, it is right and rational 
 to aim at a change, though the changes which an infuriated 
 populace does bring about will usually be both irrational and 
 wrong will overthrow the good along with the evil, and will 
 be pregnant with worse evils than they seek to remedy. The 
 ancient despotism of France, detestable as it was, did not cause 
 more misery in a century than the Keign of Terror did in a 
 year. And, universally, the longer and the more grievously 
 any people have been oppressed, the more violent and extra- 
 vagant will be the reaction. And the people will often be in 
 the condition of King Lear, going to and fro between his 
 daughters, and deprived first of half his attendants, and then of 
 half the remainder, then of all. 
 
 Talleyrand foretold a revolution in England (similar to that 
 of France) at the time when the agitation about the Reform- 
 Bill was going on. He even said that it was begun ; and 
 claimed to be himself ' well-acquainted with revolutions.' But 
 it is plain he did not understand the difference between the 
 English People and the French ; and indeed that he was ill- 
 acquainted with human nature; not understanding that the 
 violence of any popular movement will be proportioned to the 
 degree in which men have been degraded and brutalized, and 
 
 On this subject there are some excellent observations in an Article in the Edin- 
 burgh Review (Oct. 1842, p. 1 1, 12, 13) on Alison's History.
 
 Essay xxiv.] Annotations. 279 
 
 maddened, by long oppression. If the English had been for 
 one or two centuries trampled down as the ma?s of the French 
 Population had been, and if, moreover, the religious influence 
 exercised on them (as far as they were under any at all) had 
 tended to exclude them from the study of the Scriptures, then, 
 no doubt, they would have rushed into the most frightful ex- 
 cesses. As it was, they broke several windows ; but there were 
 probably not so many paries of glass demolished in all, as there 
 were heads cut off in a mouth, during the worst periods of the 
 French revolution. 
 
 Yet at that time, and also at the beginning of the French 
 revolution, there were many in England who were completely 
 panic-struck, and fully believed that we were on the eve of just 
 such a state of things as then existed in France. They were 
 like a man who seeing a neighbouring cottage, of wood and 
 thatch, in a blaze, thinks he can never sufficiently deluge with 
 water his own house, of brick and stone. 
 
 Some persons, fewer in number, but several of them men of 
 decided ability, committed the converse mistake, of confidently 
 anticipating, at the beginning of the first revolution in France, 
 an abundance of unalloyed advantages to that Country: and 
 they were as much surprised as horrified at the actual course of 
 events. 
 
 Both parties equally manifested an ignorance either of human 
 nature, or of the circumstances of the two countries respec- 
 tively. The one party were soon woefully undeceived by the 
 events : of the other, some are still to be found who cling to 
 the belief, that, but for the war, all the horrors of the French 
 Revolution would have taken place in England. 
 
 But although it is true that innovations in important matters 
 are never sought through mere love of change for its own sake, 
 but for relief from some evil, the danger is not the less, of rash 
 and ill-advised innovations; because evils, greater or less, and 
 more or less of imperfection, always do exist in all human 
 institutions administered by fallible men. 
 
 And what is more, there is seldom any kind of evil that does 
 not admit of a complete and effectual remedy, if we are careless 
 about introducing some different, and, perhaps, greater evil in 
 its place. It is seldom very difficult to dam up a stream that 
 incommodes us ; only we should remember that it will then
 
 280 Of Innovations. [Essay xxiv. 
 
 force for itself a new channel, or else spread out into an 
 unwholesome marsh. The evils of contested elections, the 
 bribery, the intimidation, and the deception which they often 
 give rise to, are undeniable ; and they would be completely 
 cured by suppressing the House of Commons altogether, or 
 making the seats in it hereditary ; but we should not be gainers 
 by the exchange. There are evils belonging specifically to a 
 pure monarchy, and to an oligarchy, and to a democracy, and 
 to a mixed government : and a change in the form of govern- 
 ment would always remedy one class of evils, and introduce 
 another. And under all governments, civil and ecclesiastical, 
 there are evils arising from the occasional incapacity or mis- 
 conduct of those to whom power is entrusted ; evils which 
 might be at once remedied by introducing the far greater evil 
 of anarchy, and leaving every man to ' do as is right in his own 
 eyes/ There are inconveniences, again, from being governed 
 by fixed laws, which must always bear hard on some particular 
 cases ; but we should be no gainers by leaving every judge to 
 act like a Turkish cadi, entirely at his own discretion. And 
 the like holds good in all departments of life. There are 
 careless and inefficient clergymen : abolish endowments, and 
 resort to what is called the ' voluntary system/ and you will 
 have no inactive ministers; only 'preaching' will, as Paley 
 observes, ' become a mode of begging : and a Minister whose 
 flock consists of persons all engaged in some one bad practice, 
 such as smugglers, rebels, slave- dealers, or wreckers, will 
 find that he is a man hired to keep their conscience quiet 
 in a wrong course. 1 This also may be cured by prohibiting 
 the ministers receiving any contributions ; only, this will 
 
 1 It has been urged, as if in answer to this, that there are, under the voluntary 
 system, conscientious Ministers, who would submit to anything rather than suppress 
 important truths. Heaven forbid I should doubt this ! But let one of these consci- 
 entious Ministers try the experiment of preaching Abolitionist- doctrine in a Slave- 
 State; and he will soon find his stipend withdrawn, and a successor appointed. If 
 the congregation find one man not teaching what pleases them, they will look out 
 for another who will. [See Mrs. Stowe's ' DEED/] Far be it from us to reproach 
 those who, in default of endowments, receive or pay wages: for 'the labourer is 
 worthy of his HIKE.' Only, let them not reproach others for having what they 
 call a ' hiied Ministry ;' meaning what is in reality an wnhired ; that is, those who 
 are supported by endowments. [See a Letter to Mr. James, in the Semaint of 
 Sp. Dickinson.~\ One Reviewer however remarks that such a state of things as 
 1 have alluded to, though it may possibly exist somewhere, certainly cannot be 
 found in any pa.-t of the British Empire. Happy ignorance !
 
 Essay xxiv.] Annotations. 281 
 
 confine the ministry to men of fortune. And so of the 
 rest. 
 
 One of the greatest evils produced by the thorough- going 
 Reformer is that the alarm which he excites is the great 
 strengthener of the ultra-conservative principle. ' See what we 
 shall come to if we listen to these lovers of change \' This is 
 one of the infinite number of cases in which evils are brought 
 on by their contraries : in short, by a re-action. 
 
 The mass of mankind rush eagerly into whatever extreme 
 happens to be the fashion of the day ; like planks floating to 
 and fro with the tides. Those a few degrees above them, see, 
 and try to avoid an error, but take no precautions against a 
 contrary extreme. ' Dum vitant stulti vitia, in contraria 
 currunt.' They are like a mariner sailing and rowing with all 
 his might as far as possible against a flood- tide, and never 
 thinking that an ebb is to come. A wise man always antici- 
 pates re-actions, and takes his measures accordingly. But 1 have 
 already dwelt upon this point in the remarks on ' Superstition/ 
 
 It should be remembered, then, that though pure conserva- 
 tism is a folly, and though it is true that men do not covet 
 innovation, as such, with equal blindness, still there is as 
 much folly, and as much danger, in a blindly reformatory prin- 
 ciple. For though men do not seek a change except when they 
 perceive some evil, inconvenience, or imperfection, the thorough- 
 going Reformer always will find some not unreal ground of 
 complaint, in the working of every institution. ' Erunt vitia 
 donee homines/ And if every house is to be pulled down and 
 rebuilt till we have got one that is perfect, and, moreover, that 
 every one will think such, we shall be as constantly in brick 
 and mortar as if we did delight in pulling down for its own sake. 
 
 And we should remember, also, that ' custom will often blind 
 one to the good as well as to the evil effects of any long- 
 established system. The agues engendered by a marsh (like 
 that ancient one which bore the name and surrounded the city 
 of Camarina), and which have so long been common as to be 
 little regarded, may not be its only effects : it may be also a 
 defence against an enemy. The Camarinseans having drained 
 the swamp, their city became healthy, but was soon after 
 besieged and taken. The preventive effects, indeed, whether 
 good or evil, of any long-established system are hardly ever
 
 282 Of Innovations. [Essay xxiv. 
 
 duly appreciated. But though no law or system, whether 
 actually existing or proposed, can be expected to be unexcep- 
 tionable, or should have its defects pointed out without any 
 notice of corresponding advantages, it is most important to 
 examine every measure, whether new or old, and to try it 
 on its intrinsic merits; always guarding against the tendency 
 to acquiesce without inquiry in the necessity of any existing 
 practice. In short, we should, on the one hand, not venture 
 rashly on untrodden paths without a careful survey of the 
 country, and, on the other hand, to be on our guard against 
 following, in confident security, the track of our own footsteps/ 1 
 
 The two kinds of absurdity here adverted to may be compared 
 respectively to the acts of two kinds of irrational animals, a 
 moth, and a horse. The moth rushes into a flame, and is 
 burned : and the horse obstinately stands still in a stable that 
 is on fire, and is burned likewise. One may often meet with 
 persons of opposite dispositions, though equally unwise, who are 
 accordingly prone respectively to these opposite errors : the one 
 partaking more of the character of the moth, and the other of 
 the horse. This comparison, I may add, suggests a practical 
 rule. The only way to lead a horse out of a burning stable, 
 is to put on him his accustomed gear ; the saddle and bridle, 
 if a saddle-horse, or the collar, if a draught-horse ; and then 
 by the force of association, he will submit to be led out. So 
 also, a man of the disposition alluded to, will the more readily 
 comply with a suggestion, if put into the form, as far as may 
 be, of his accustomed practice. He may be led, if put into 
 his usual gear. 
 
 The opposite course to this is taken by not a few, who have 
 a passion to be accounted original. They exaggerate the 
 novelty of anything they propose, and put whatever they say 
 into the most paradoxical form, as if on purpose to make 
 people stare. They must be always broaching something that 
 is new ; or at least, as the phrase is, putting ' old things in a 
 new light/ But if your object be to instruct, convince, or 
 persuade, rather than to astonish, you will find it quite as 
 often advisable to put new things in an old light. 
 
 See Appendix E. to Lectures on Political Economy, p. 225.
 
 Essay xxiv.] Annotations. 283 
 
 Bacon's maxim, therefore, is most wise, to ' make a stand 
 upon the ancient way, and look about us to discover what is the 
 best way ' neither changing at once anything that is established, 
 merely because of some evils actually existing, without con- 
 sidering whether we can substitute something that is, on the 
 whole, better ; nor, again, steadily rejecting every plan or system 
 that can be proposed, till one can be found that is open to no 
 objections at all. For nothing framed or devised by the 
 wit of Man ever was, or can be, perfect ; and therefore to 
 condemn and reject everything that is imperfect, and has some 
 evils attending on it, is a folly which may lead equally and 
 indeed often has led to each of two opposite absurdities : 
 either an obstinate adherence to what is established, however 
 bad, because nothing absolutely unexceptionable can be substi- 
 tuted ; or again, a perpetual succession of revolutions till we 
 can establish which is totally impossible some system com- 
 pletely faultless, or so framed as to keep itself in good order. 
 To conceive such a system, whether actually existing or ideal, 
 is to be beset by the same chimerical hope in human affairs 
 that has misled so many speculators in mechanics, the vain 
 expectation of attaining the perpetual motion. 
 
 To avoid the opposite evils, of rash changes, and of bigoted 
 and blind adherence to whatever is established, to give the 
 requisite stability to laws and institutions, yet without preclud- 
 ing needful alterations this is the problem which (as I have 
 said above) politicians have been vainly attempting to solve for 
 many centuries. A solution of it is suggested in the little 
 Work above alluded to, the Expedition to the Interior of New 
 Holland. The system there described is this : all the laws of 
 the supposed State are divided into two classes; the ordinary 
 laws, and the fundamental laws. These latter, the Legislature 
 has no power, directly and immediately, to enact, alter, or annul ; 
 but it is competent to any Member to move that this or that 
 ordinary -law shall, at the end of the Session, be enrolled in the 
 list of fundamental laws ; or, that such and such a fundamental 
 law, shall, at the end of the Session, be removed from the list, 
 and become an ordinary-law ; still binding ; but open to repeal. 
 But (as a still further safeguard) no such motion can pass but 
 by an absolute majority of the whole House ; all who do not
 
 284 Of Innovations. [Essay xxiv. 
 
 vote for it, being reckoned, whether present or absent, as voting 
 against it. 
 
 Thus a legitimate mode is provided for introducing, when 
 thought needful, any great change, warily and deliberately, but 
 not hastily and rashly. 
 
 The scheme is developed in p. 96-108 of the Work referred to. 
 
 This essay of Bacon's is one of the most instructive arid most 
 generally useful ; ' coming home/ as he himself expresses it, ' to 
 men's business and bosoms.' For though few men are likely 
 to be called on to take part in the reformation of any public 
 institutions, yet there is no one of us but what ought to engage 
 in the important work of self-reformation. And according to 
 the well-known proverb, ' If each would sweep before his own 
 door, we should have a clean street.' Some may have more 
 and some less, of dust and other nuisances to sweep away ; 
 some of one kind, and some of another. But those who have 
 the least to do, have something to do ; and they should feel it 
 an encouragement to do it, that they can so easily remedy the 
 beginnings of small evils before they have accumulated into a 
 great one. 
 
 Begin reforming, therefore, at once : proceed in reforming, 
 steadily and cautiously, and go on reforming for ever.
 
 ESSAY XXV. OF DISPATCH. 
 
 A FFECTED dispatch is one of the most dangerous things to 
 1A. 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 time of sitting, but by the advance- 
 ment 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 1 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 com- 
 monly backward and forward in an unsteady manner. I knew 
 a wise man that had it for a by-word, when he saw men hasten 
 to a conclusion, ' Stay a little, that we may make an end the 
 sooner. 52 
 
 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: 
 1 Mi venga la muerte de Spagna/ 3 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 inter- 
 rupt 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 4 are commonly loss of time : but there is no such 
 
 1 Because. That ; in order that. ' The multitude rebuked them, because they 
 should hold their peace.' Matt. xx. 31. 
 
 2 Sir Amyas Paulet. 3 ' May my death come from Spain.' 
 4 Iteration. Repetition. 
 
 'What means this iteration, woman ?' Shakespere.
 
 286 Of Dispatch. [Essay xxv. 
 
 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 a race. Prefaces, and passages/ 
 and excusations, 2 and other speeches of reference to the person, 
 are great wastes of time; and though they seem to proceed of 3 
 modesty, they are bravery. 4 Yet beware of being too material 5 
 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 chuse time is to save time ; and an unseason- 
 able 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 di- 
 rection than an indefinite, as ashes are more generative than 
 dust. 6 
 
 1 Passages. Introductory approaches. 
 
 ' And with his pointed dart 
 Explores the nearest passage to her heart.' 
 
 ' Excusations. Excuses ; apologies. ' The punishment of his excusations.' 
 Brown. 
 
 3 Of. From. ' I have received of the Lord that which I also delivered unto 
 you.' i Cor. xi. 23. ' A blow whose violence grew not of fury, not of strength ; 
 or of strength proceeding of fury.' Sidney. 
 
 4 Bravery. Boasting. ' For a bravery upon this occasion of power they 
 crowned their new king in Dublin.' Bacon. 
 
 * Material. Full of matter. 
 
 ' A material fool.' Shakespere. 
 ' His speech even charmed his cares, 
 
 So order'd, so material.' Chapman's version of the 24^ Iliad. 
 6 He means doubtless wood-ashes, which are a fertilizing manure.
 
 Essay xxv.] Annotations. 287 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' Time is the measure of business' ' To chuse time is to 
 
 save time, and unseasonable motion is but beating the air' 
 
 Some persons are what is called 'slow and sure;' sure, that 
 is, in cases that will admit of leisurely deliberation; though 
 they require so much time for forming a right judgment, and 
 devising right plans, that in cases where promptitude is called 
 for, they utterly fail. Buonaparte used to say, that one of the 
 principal requisites for a general, was, an accurate calculation 
 of time ; for if your adversary can bring a powerful force to 
 attack a certain post ten minutes sooner than you can bring up 
 a sufficient supporting force, you are beaten, even though all 
 the rest of your plans be never so good. 
 
 So also, if you are overtaken by an inundation, ten minutes 
 spent in deciding on the best road for escaping, may make 
 escape impossible. 
 
 Some again, are admirable at a bright thought a shrewd 
 guess an ingenious scheme hit off on the spur of the moment, 
 but, either will not give themselves time for quiet deliberation 
 in cases where there is no hurry, or cannot deliberate to good 
 purpose. They can shoot flying, but cannot take deliberate aim. 
 
 And some again there are who delay and deliberate, when 
 promptitude is essential, and make up for this by taking a hasty 
 step when they have plenty of time before them ; or they are 
 bold first, and prudent afterwards; first administering the strong 
 dose, and then, when the step cannot be re-called, carefully ex- 
 amining the patient's tongue and pulse. 
 
 It is worth remarking, that many persons are of such a 
 disposition as to be nearly incapable of remaining in doubt on 
 any point that is not wholly uninteresting to them. They 
 speedily make up their minds on each question, and come to 
 some conclusion, whether there are any good grounds for it or 
 not. And judging as men are apt to do, in all matters of 
 others, from themselves, they usually discredit the most solemn 
 assurances of any one who professes to be in a state of doubt 
 on some question ; taking for granted that if you do not adopt 
 their opinion, you must be of the opposite.
 
 288 Of Dispatch. [Essay xxv. 
 
 Others again there are, who are capable of remaining in 
 doubt as long as the reasons on each side seeui exactly balanced; 
 but not otherwise. Such a person, as soon as he perceives any 
 the smallest preponderance of probability on one side of a 
 question, can no more refrain from deciding immediately, and 
 with full conviction, on that side, than he could continue to 
 stand, after having lost his equilibrium, in a slanting position, 
 like the famous tower at Pisa. And he will, accordingly, be 
 disposed to consider an acknowledgment that there are some- 
 what the stronger reasons on one side, as equivalent to a., con- 
 fident decision. 
 
 The tendency to such an error is the greater, from the cir- 
 cumstance, that there are so many cases, in practice, wherein 
 it is essentially necessary to come to a practical decision, even 
 where there are no sufficient grounds for feeling fully convinced 
 that it is the right one. A traveller may be in doubt, and may 
 have no means of deciding, with just confidence, which of two 
 roads he ought to take ; while yet he must, at a venture, take 
 one of them. And the like happens in numberless transactions 
 of ordinary life, in which we are obliged practically to make up 
 our minds at once to take one course or another, even where 
 there are no sufficient grounds for a full conviction of the 
 understanding. 
 
 The infirmities above mentioned are those of ordinary minds. 
 A smaller number of persons, among whom, however, are to be 
 found a larger proportion of the intelligent, are prone to the 
 opposite extreme ; that of not deciding, as long as there are 
 reasons to be found on both sides, even though there may be a 
 clear and strong preponderance on the one, and even though the 
 case may be such as to call for a practical decision. As the 
 one description of men rush hastily to a conclusion, and trouble 
 themselves little about premises, so, the other carefully examine 
 premises, and care too little for conclusions. The one decide 
 without inquiring, the other inquire without deciding. 
 
 ' Beware of being too material.' 
 
 On this point I take the liberty of quoting a passage from 
 the Elements of Rhetoric [p. 3, ch. i. 2] : 
 
 ' It is remarked by anatomists that the nutritive quality is
 
 Essay xxv.] Annotations. 289 
 
 not the only requisite in food, that a certain degree of disten- 
 sion of the stomach is required to enable it to act with its full 
 powers, and that it is for this reason hay or straw must be 
 given to horses as well as corn, in order to supply the neces- 
 sary bulk. Something analogous to this takes place with 
 respect to the generality of minds, which are incapable of 
 thoroughly digesting and assimilating what is presented to them 
 in a very small compass. Many a one is capable of deriving 
 that instruction from a moderate-sized volume, which he could 
 not receive from a very small pamphlet, even more perspicu- 
 ously written, and containing everything that is to the purpose. 
 It is necessary that the attention should be detained for a cer- 
 tain time on the subject ; and persons of unphilosophical mind, 
 though they can attend to what they read or hear, are unapt to 
 dwell upon it in the way of subsequent meditation. 3 1 
 
 ' True dispatch is a rich thing' 
 
 It is a rare and admirable thing when a man is able both to 
 discern which cases admit, and which not, of calm deliberation ; 
 and also to be able to meet both in a suitable manner. Such a 
 character is most graphically described by Thucydides in his 
 account of Themistocles ; who, according to him, was second 'to 
 none in forming his plans on cautious inquiry and calm reflec- 
 tion, when circumstances allowed him, and yet excelled most 
 men in hitting off some device to meet some sudden emergency : 
 
 If you cannot tind a counsellor who combines these two kinds 
 of qualification (which is a thing not to be calculated on), you 
 should seek for some of each sort ; one, to devise and mature 
 measures that will admit of delay; and another, to make prompt 
 guesses, and suggest sudden expedients. A bow, such as is 
 approved by our modern toxophilites, must be backed that in, 
 made of two slips of wood glued together : one a very elastic, 
 but somewhat brittle wood ; the other much less elastic, but 
 very tough. The one gives the requisite spring, the other keeps 
 it from breaking. If you have two such counsellors as are hero 
 spoken of, you are provided with a backed bow. 
 
 1 Elements of Rhetoric, Part III. chap. i. 2. 
 U
 
 290 Of Dispatch. [Essay xxv. 
 
 And if you yourself are of one of the two above-mentioned 
 characters the slow-hound, or the grey-hound you should 
 especially provide yourself with an adviser of the opposite class : 
 one to give you warning of dangers and obstacles, and to cau- 
 tion you against precipitate decisions, if that be your tendency ; 
 or one to make guesses, and suggest expedients, if you are one 
 of the slow and sure. 
 
 Those who are clever [in the proper sense i.e. quick'] are 
 apt to be so proud of it as to disdain taking time for cautious 
 inquiry and deliberation ; and those of the opposite class are 
 perhaps no less likely to pride themselves on their cautious 
 wisdom. But these latter will often, in practice, obtain this 
 advantage over those they are opposed to that they will defeat 
 them without direct opposition, by merely asking for postpone- 
 ment and reconsideration, in cases where (as Bacon expresses 
 it) * not to decide, is to decide/ If you defer sowing a field till 
 the seedtime is past, you have decided against sowing it. If 
 you carry the motion that a Bill be read a second time this day 
 six months, you have thrown it out.
 
 ESSAY XXVI. 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/ 1 so, certainly 
 there are, in points of wisdom and sufficiency, 2 that do nothing 
 or little, very solemnly, Magno conatu nugas. 3 It is a ridiculous 
 thing, and fit for a satire to persons of judgment, to see what 
 shifts these formalists have, and what prospectives 4 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, 5 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 de- 
 presso supercilio, crudelitatem tibi nonplacere/ 6 Some think 
 to bear 7 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 8 or curious, 9 and 
 
 1 2 Timothy iii. 5. 
 
 a Sufficiency. Ability ; adequate power. ' Our sufficiency is of God.' 2 Cor. 
 iii. 5. 
 
 3 Trifles with great effort. 
 
 4 Prospectives. Perspective glasses. 
 
 ' They speke of Alhazen and Vitellon, 
 
 Of queinte mirrours, and of prospectives .' Chaucer. 
 * In Pis. 6. 
 
 6 ' You answer, with one eyebrow up to your forehead and the other down to your 
 chin, that you do not approve of cruelty/ 
 
 7 Bear. To manage; to contrive. 
 
 ' We'll direct her how 'tis hest to tear it.' ShaJcespere. 
 
 8 Impertinent. Irrelevant. 
 
 ' Without the which, this story 
 Were most impertinent.' Shakespere. 
 
 9 Curious. Over-nice. See page IOO. 
 
 II 2
 
 392 Of seeming Wise. [Essay xxvi. 
 
 so would have their ignorance seem judgment. Some are never 
 without a difference/ and commonly by amusing men with a 
 subtlety, blanch 2 the matter ; of whom A. Gellius saith, ' Homi- 
 nem delirum, qui verborum minutiis rerum frangit pondera.' 3 
 Of which kind also Plato, in his Protagoras,* bringeth in Pro- 
 dicus in scorn, and maketh him make a speech that cousisteth 
 of distinctions 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 chuse them for employ- 
 ment ; for, certainly, you were better take for business a man 
 somewhat absurd than over-formal. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 * Some help themselves with countenance and gesture? 
 
 Cowper in his Conversation has well described a man of 
 this class : 
 
 ' A shallow brain behind a serious mask, 
 An Oracle within an empty cask, 
 The solemn fop ; significant and budge ; 
 A fool with judges, amongst fools a judge ; 
 
 1 Difference. A. subtle distinction. 
 
 Blanch. To evade. ' A man horribly cheats his own soul, who upon any pre- 
 tence whatever, or under any temptation, forsakes or llanches the true principles 
 of religion.' Goodman's Conference. 
 
 'A senseless man who fritters away weighty matters by trifling with words.' 
 (This expression not in Aulus Gellius. A passage like it occurs in Quintilian 
 ix I.) 
 
 4 Plato, Protag. i. 337. 
 
 * Inward beggar. One secretly a bankrupt. 
 
 ' To the sight unfold 
 His secret gems, and all the inward gold.' Lansdowne.
 
 Essay xxvi.] . Annotations. 293 
 
 He says but little, and that little said, 
 
 Owes all its weight, like loaded dice, to lead. 
 
 His wit invites you by his looks, to come, 
 
 But when you knock, it never is at home ; 
 
 'Tis like a parcel sent you by the stage, 
 
 Some handsome present, as your hopes presage ; 
 
 "Pis heavy, bulky, and bids fair to prove 
 
 An absent friend's fidelity and love ; 
 
 But when unpacked, your disappointment groans 
 
 To find it stuffed with brickbats, earth, and stones/ 
 
 ' Seeming wise men may make shift to get opinion.' 
 
 There is a way in which some men seem, to themselves, and 
 often to others also, to be much wiser than they are ; by acting 
 as a wise man does, only, on wrong occasions, and altogether 
 under different circumstances. Such a man has heard that it 
 is a wise thing to be neither too daring nor too timid ; neither 
 too suspicious nor too confiding ; too hasty nor too slow, &c., 
 and he ventures and holds back, trusts and distrusts, hastens 
 and delays, spends and spares, &c., just in the same degree that 
 a wise man does, only, he is venturesome where there is real 
 danger, and cautious where there is none ; hasty where there is 
 no cause, and dilatory when everything turns on dispatch; 
 trusting those unworthy of confidence, and suspicious of the 
 trustworthy; parsimonious towards worthy objects, and profuse 
 towards the worthless ; &c. 
 
 Such a character may be called ' the reflection of a wise man.' 
 He is the figure of a wise man shown by a mirror ; which is an 
 exact representation, except that it is left-handed. 
 
 The German child's-story of Hans und Grettel, like many 
 other childish tales, contains, under a surface of mere foolery, 
 an instructive picture of real life. Hans stuck a knife in his 
 sleeve, having been told that was the proper place for the needle ; 
 and put a kid in his pocket, because that was the place for a 
 knife, &c. 
 
 It may be said, almost without qualification, that true wisdom 
 consists in the ready anct accurate perception of analogies. 
 Without the former quality, knowledge of the past is uniii- 
 structive ; without the latter, it is deceptive.
 
 294 Of seeming Wise. [Essay xxvi. 
 
 One way in which many a man aims at and pretends to 
 wisdom, who ' has it not in him/ is this : he has heard that 
 ' the middle course is always the best / that ' extremes are to be 
 avoided/ &c. ; and so he endeavours in all cases to keep at an 
 equal distance from the most opposite parties. As was ob- 
 served in ' Annotation ' the second on Essay XI., he will never 
 quite agree, nor very widely disagree with either : and thus, as 
 almost always each party is right in something, he misses the 
 truth on both sides ; and while afraid of being guided by either 
 party, he is in fact guided by both. His mimic wisdom con- 
 sists in sliding alternately towards each extreme. But if ypur 
 orbit be a true circle, independent of the eccentric elliptical 
 orbits of others, this will make sundry nodes with theirs ; some- 
 times falling within and sometimes without the same eccentric 
 orbit. That is, in some points you will approach nearer to the 
 one than to the other ; in some you will wholly agree with one 
 party, and in some with another ; in some you will differ 
 equally from both ; and in some you will even go further from 
 the one party than the opposite one does. For, true wisdom 
 does not depend on another's extravagance and folly. The 
 varieties of human error have no power to fix the exact place of 
 truth. 
 
 Another exemplification of the golden mean upon which this 
 seeming wise man prides himself, is the adoption of the conclu- 
 sion that where a great deal is said, something must be true ; 
 imagining that he is showing a most judicious and laudable 
 caution in believing only part of what is said, doing what is 
 called 'splitting the difference/ This is the wisdom of the 
 clown, who thinks he has bought a great bargain of a Jew, 
 because he has beat down the price from a guinea to a crown 
 for some article that is not really worth a groat. 
 
 Another of these pretenders to being, or being thought to 
 be, wise, prides himself on what he calls his consistency, on 
 his never changing his opinions or plans ; which, as long as 
 Man is fallible, and circumstances change, is the wisdom of one 
 either too dull to detect his mistakes, or too obstinate to own 
 them. 
 
 Another, having been warned that ( wisdom and wit ' are not 
 the same thing, makes it a part of wisdom to distrust every- 
 thing that can possibly be regarded as witty ; not having judg-
 
 Essay xxvi.] Annotations. 295 
 
 ment to perceive the combination, when it occurs, of wit with 
 sound reasoning. The ivy-wreath conceals from his view the 
 point of the Thyrsus. His is not the wisdom that can laugh 
 at what is ludicrous, and, at the same time, preserve a clear 
 discernment of sound and unsound reasoning. 
 
 Again Some of these seeming wise men pride themselves 
 on their scorn for all systematic knowledge, and on their 
 reliance on what they call common sense and experience. They 
 depend on their 'experience' and their ' common sense' for every- 
 thing, and are continually obtruding what may be called the 
 pedantry of experience and common sense on the most abstruse 
 subjects. They meet all scientific and logical argument with 
 ' Common sense tells me I am right/ and 'My every-day's 
 experience confirms me in the opinion I have formed/ If they 
 are spoken to of Political Economy, they will immediately 
 reply, ' Ah, I know nothing of the dreams of Political Economy' 
 (this is the very phrase I have heard used) ' I never studied 
 it I never troubled myself about it ; but there are some points 
 upon which I have made up my mind, such as the question of 
 free trade and protection, and poor-laws.' ' I do not pro- 
 fess' a man will perhaps say ' to know anything of Me- 
 dicine, or Pharmacy, or Anatomy, or any of those things; 
 but I know by experience that so and so is wholesome for sick 
 people.' 
 
 In former times men knew by experience that the earth 
 stands still, and the sun rises and sets. Common sense taught 
 them that there could be no antipodes, since men could not 
 stand with their heads downwards, like flies on the ceiling. 
 Experience taught the King of Bantam that water can never 
 become solid. And to come to the case of human affairs 
 the experience and common sense of the most intelligent of the 
 Roman historians, Tacitus, taught him that for a mixed govern- 
 ment to be established, combining the elements of royalty, 
 aristocracy, and democracy, would be next to impossible ; and 
 that if it were established, it must speedily be dissolved. 
 Yet, had he lived to the present day, he would have learned 
 that the establishment and continuance of such a form of 
 government was not impossible. So much for experience ! 
 The experience of these wise men resembles the learning 
 of a man who has turned over the pages of a great many
 
 296 Of seeming Wise. [Essay xxvi. 
 
 books without ever having learned to read ; and their so-called 
 'common sense' is often, in reality, nothing else than common 
 prejudice. 
 
 Yet these very persons pass for wise, or, as Bacon expresses 
 it, ' get opinion/ by the oracular decisions they are continually 
 pronouncing on the most difficult scientific questions. For 
 instance, decisions on questions concerning taxation, tithes, the 
 national debt, the poor-laws, the wages which labourers earn 
 or ought to earn, the comparative advantages of different modes 
 of charity, and numberless other questions of Political Economy, 
 are boldly pronounced by them, while not only ignorant, but 
 professedly ignorant, and designing to continue so, of the whole 
 subject : neither having, nor pretending to have, nor seeking for, 
 any fixed principles by which to regulate their judgment on each 
 point. That gentleman equals them in wisdom, while certainly 
 surpassing them in the modesty of his doubt, who, on being 
 asked whether he could play on the violin, made answer that 
 he really did not know whether he could or not, because he had 
 never tried. 
 
 It is somewhat remarkable that this claim to be thought 
 wise, founded on the adherence to so-called common sense, should 
 be so generally allowed as it is. For it not consistent with 
 the universal, though unconscious, and often unwilling, testi- 
 mony of mankind that systematic knowledge is preferable to 
 conjectural judgments, and that common sense is only our second- 
 best guide. This testimony is borne in the fact that the sailor, 
 the architect, the physician, and every other practitioner, each 
 in his own department, gives the preference to unassisted common 
 sense only in those points where he himself has nothing else to 
 trust to, and invariably resorts to the rules of art wherever he 
 possesses the knowledge of them. 1 But most people are apt to 
 give credit for wisdom to those, not whose views are, on the 
 whole, most reasonable, but those whose common sense consists 
 in common notions, and who are free from all errors, except 
 vulgar errors. 
 
 Another mode in which men set up for being wise is, by 
 being fastidious. They are so excessively acute at detecting 
 imperfections, that in looking at a peacock's train, they would 
 
 1 See Elements of Logic, Preface, p. xv.
 
 Essay xxvi.] Annotations. 297 
 
 fix on every spot where the feathers were worn, or the colours 
 faded, and see nothing else. 
 
 Again It is a characteristic of some of these seeming wise 
 men, that not only are ' little things great' to them, as the poet 
 says they are to ' little men/ but great things are little to them. 
 With writers of the ' seeming- wise ' class, it is the com- 
 monest artifice to adopt that style of mysterious grandiloquence 
 which was adverted to in the Preface to this volume. Let a 
 writer on science suppose, Logic, or Metaphysics bring for- 
 ward what knowledge he does possess, in dark hints, insinu- 
 ating that he has a vast store of wisdom unrevealed, and that 
 great discoveries may be expected, some day or other, from 
 himself or some of his disciples, when the world is ripe for 
 them ; and let him speak of all other writers on the subject 
 with insolent contempt ; and it is likely that a large portion of 
 that numerous class, the credulous, will give him credit for 
 being a great philosopher. 
 
 Such persons may remind one of a story told of a certain 
 Banker who bequeathed to his son a nourishing business, 
 together with a large and very strong iron chest, securely 
 locked, and which had always been supposed full of gold. ' To 
 tell you the truth/ said he, ' the chest is empty : but if you keep 
 the secret, the secret will keep you.' 
 
 As to this, and other tricks by which men (in the modern 
 phrase) ' puff themselves/ they might have been introduced by 
 Bacon in the essay ' On Cunning.' But it is worth noticing, 
 that those who assume an imposing demeanour, and seek to 
 puff themselves off for something beyond what they are (and 
 often succeed), are, not unfrequently, as much under-rated by 
 some, as they are over-rated by others. For, as a man (ac- 
 cording to what Bacon says in the essay ' On Discourse') by 
 keeping back some knowledge which he is believed to possess, 
 may gain credit for knowing something of which he is really 
 ignorant, so, if he is once or twice detected in pretending to 
 know what he does not, he is likely to be set down as a mere 
 pretender, and as ignorant of what he does know. 
 
 ' Silver gilt will often pass 
 Either for gold or else for brass/ 1 
 
 See Proverbs and Precepts, as Copy-pieces for National Schools.
 
 298 Of seeming Wise. [Essay xxvi. 
 
 ' You were better take for business a man somewhat absurd 
 than over-formal.' 
 
 By 'absurd' Bacon probably means what we express by 
 'inconsiderate'; what the French call f etourdi.' 1 
 
 The 'over-formal' often impede, and sometimes frustrate, 
 business by a dilatory, tedious, circuitous, and (what in col- 
 loquial language is called) fussy way of conducting the simplest 
 transactions. They have been compared to a dog, which cannot 
 lie down till he has made three circuits round the spot. 
 
 1 See Essay XLVII.
 
 ESSAY XXVII. OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 IT had been hard for him that spake it, to have put more 
 truth and untruth together in few words, than in that speech, 
 ' Whosoever is delighted in solitude, is either a wild beast or a 
 god; 31 for it is most true, that a natural and secret hatred and 
 aversation towards 2 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 3 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; 4 such as is found to 
 have been falsely and feignedly in some of the heathens as 
 Epimenides, the Candian ; Numa, the Roman ; Empedocles, the 
 Sicilian; and Apollonius, of Tyana; and truly, and really, in 
 divers of the ancient hermits and holy fathers of the Church. 
 But little do men perceive what solitude is, and how far it ex- 
 tendeth; for a crowd is not company, and faces are but a 
 gallery of pictures, and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there 
 is no Jove. The Latin adage meeteth with it a little : 'Magna 
 civitas, magna solitude/ 5 because in a great town friends are 
 scattered, so that there is not that fellowship, for the most part, 
 which is in less neighbourhoods. But we may go farther, and 
 affirm most truly, that it is a mere 6 and miserable solitude to 
 want true friends, without which the world is but a wilderness ; 
 and, even in this scene 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. 7 
 
 A principal fruit of friendship is the ease and discharge of 
 the fulness of the heart, which passions of all kinds do cause 
 
 1 Aristotle, Eth. B. 8. 
 
 3 Aversation towards. Aversion to. ' There is such a general aversation in 
 human nature towards contempt, that there is scarcely anything more exasperat- 
 ing.' Government of the Tongue. 
 
 3 Except. Unless. ' Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom 
 of God.' John iii. 3. 
 
 4 Conversation. Course of life. ' What manner of persons ought we to be in 
 all holy conversation and godliness.' 2 Pet. iii. 
 
 5 ' A great city, a great solitude.' 
 
 6 Mere. Absolute. See ' Merely,' page 25. 
 
 7 Humanity. Human nature. ' Look to thyself; reach not beyond humanity.' 
 Sir Philip Sidney.
 
 300 Of Friendship. [Essay xxvii. 
 
 and induce. "We know diseases of stoppings and suffocations 
 are the most dangerous in the body ; and it is not much other- 
 wise in the mind : you may take sarza 1 to open the liver, steel 
 to open the spleen, flower 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, sus- 
 picions, 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 2 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 3 to 
 inconvenience. The modern languages give unto such persons 
 the name of favourites, or privadoes, as if it were matter of 
 grace or conversation ; but the Roman name attaineth the true 
 use and cause thereof, naming them ' participes curarum ;'* for 
 it is that which tieth the knot : and we see plainly that this 
 hath been done, not by weak and passionate princes only, but 
 by the wisest and most politic that ever reigned, who have often- 
 times joined to themselves some of their servants, whom both 
 themselves have called friends, and allowed others 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 him- 
 self for Sylla's over-match ; for when he had carried the consul- 
 ship 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 
 
 1 Sarza. Sarsaparilla. ' Sarza is both a tree and an herb.' Ainsworth. 
 
 8 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 J Sorteth. To result ; to issue in. 
 
 ' Sort how it will, 
 I shall have gold for aM.' 
 4 ' Participators in our cares.'
 
 Essay xxvii.] Of Friendship. 301 
 
 setting. 1 With Julius Csesar, Deciinus Brutus had obtained 
 that interest, as he set him down in his testament for heir in re- 
 mainder 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 especially 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 dreamed a better dream; 2 
 and it seemed his favour was so great, as Antonius, in a letter, 
 which is recited verbatim in one of Cicero's Philippics, called 
 him 'venefica,' witch, as if he had enchanted Caesar. 3 Augustus 
 raised Agrippa, though of mean birth, to that height, as, 4 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 way, 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, ( Hsec pro amicitia nostra non occultavi;' 5 and 
 the whole senate dedicated an altar to Friendship, as to a 
 goddess, in respect of the great dearness 6 of friendship between 
 them two. The like, or more, was between Septimus 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, 7 ' I love the man so well, as I wish he 
 may over-live 8 me.' Now, if these princes had been as a Trajan, 
 or a Marcus Aurelius, a man might have thought that this had 
 proceeded of 9 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 hap- 
 pened to mortal men, but as a half piece, except they might 
 
 1 Plut. Vit. Pomp. ig. ' Plat. Vit. J. COBS. 64. 
 
 3 Cic. Philip, xiii. n. , 4 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 5 ' On account of our friendship, I have not concealed these things.' Tacit. 
 . Ann. iv. 40. 
 
 6 Dearness. Fondness. ' He must profess all the clearness and friendship.' 
 South. 
 
 13 Dion Cass. Ixxv. 
 
 8 Overlive. Survive. ' Musidorus, who showed a mind not to overlive Prorus, 
 prevailed/ Sir P. Sidney. 9 Of. From. See page 286.
 
 302 Of Friendship. [Essay xxvii. 
 
 have a friend to make it entire ; and yet, which 1 is more, they 
 were princes that had wives, sons, nephews, yet all these could 
 not supply the comfort of friendship. 
 
 It is not to be forgotten what Comineus observeth of his 
 first master, Duke Charles the Hardy namely, that he would 
 communicate 2 his secrets with none; and, least of all, those 
 secrets which troubled him most. Whereupon he goeth on, 
 and saith, that towards his latter time, that closeness did impair 
 and a little perish* his understanding. Surely Comineus might 
 have made the same judgment also, if it had pleased him, of 
 his second master, Louis XI., whose closeness was indeed his 
 tormentor. The parable of Pythagoras is dark, but true, ' Cor 
 ne edito' eat not the heart. 4 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 halfs; 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 
 alchymists 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 5 of alchymists, 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 is it of 6 minds. 
 
 1 Which. What. Chaucer. 
 
 2 Communicate with. Communicate to ; impart to. ' He communicated those 
 thoughts only with the Lord Digby.' Clarendon. 
 
 3 Perish. To cause to decay : to destroy. 
 
 1 Thy flinty heart, more hard than they, 
 Might in thy palace perish, Margaret.' ShaJcespere. 
 * Plutarch, De Educat. Puer. 17. 
 
 5 Pray in aid. To be an advocate for. (A term in law for calling in one to 
 help who has interest in a cause.) 
 
 ' You shall find 
 
 A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness, 
 When he for grace is kneeled to.' Shakespere. 
 ' Of. With regard to. 
 
 'This quarrel is not now of fame and tribute, 
 But for your own republick.' Ben Jonson.
 
 Essay xxvii.] Of Friendship. 303 
 
 The second fruit of friendship is healthful and sovereign for 
 the understanding, as the first is for the affections ; for friend- 
 ship 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 who- 
 soever 1 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 2 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' 3 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, re- 
 strained 4 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 briugeth his own thoughts to light, and whetteth 
 his wits as against a stone, which itself cuts not. In a word, a 
 man were 5 better relate himself to a statue or picture, than to 
 suffer his thoughts to pass in smother. 6 
 
 Add now, to make this second fruit of friendship complete, 
 that other point which lieth more open, and falleth within 
 
 1 Whosoever. Whoever, ' W~hosoever hath Christ for his friend shall be sure 
 of counsel; and whosoever is his own friend will be sure to obey it.' South, 
 
 2 Wax. To grow ; to become. 
 
 ' Nature, crescent, does not grow alone 
 In thews and bulk ; but as this temple waxes, 
 The inward service of the mind and soul 
 Grows wide withal.' Shakespere. 
 
 3 Plut. Vlt. Themist. 28. 
 
 4 Restrained. Limited ; confined ; restricted. ' Upon what ground can a man 
 promise himself a future repentance who cannot promise himself a futurity ; whose 
 life is so restrained to the present that it cannot secure to itself the reversion of the 
 very next moment.' South. 
 
 4 Were. Had. 
 
 ' I were best not call.' Shakespere. 
 
 6 Smother (not used as a noun.) A state of being stifled. 
 
 ' Then must I from the smoke into the smother ; 
 From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother.' Shakespere.
 
 304 Of Friendship. [Essay xxvii. 
 
 vulgar 1 observation which is faithful counsel from a friend. 
 Heraclitus saith well, in one of his enigmas, ' Dry light is ever 
 the best ;' 2 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 concern- 
 ing 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 some- 
 times too piercing and corrosive ; reading good books of morality 
 is a little flat and dead ; observing our faults in others is some- 
 times 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 absur- 
 dities 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 3 saith, they are as 
 men ' that look sometimes into a glass, and presently forget 
 their own shape and favour.' 4 As for business, 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-aud-twerity 
 letters ; or, that a musket may be shot off as well upon the arm 
 as upon a rest ; and such other fond 5 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 ; 
 
 1 Vulgar. Common; general; public. 
 
 ' Most sure, and vulgar ; every one hears that.' Shakespere. 
 
 2 Ap. Stob. Serm. v. 120. 3 James i. 23. 
 
 * Favour. Countenance. ' I have surely seen him ; his favour is familiar 
 to me.' 
 
 8 Fond. Foolish; silly; weak. 
 
 ' 'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes, 
 As 'tis to laugh at them.' Shakespere,
 
 Essay xxvii.] O/ Friendship. 305 
 
 asking counsel in one business of one man, and in another 
 business of another man ; it is as 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 1 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 a way for 
 present cure, but overthroweth your health in some other kind, 
 and so cure the disease, and kill the patient : but a friend, that 
 is wholly acquainted with a man's estate, 2 will beware, by further- 
 ing any present business, how he dasheth upon other incon- 
 venience. And, therefore, rest not upon scattered counsels, for 
 they will rather distract and mislead than settle and direct. 
 
 After these two noble fruits of friendship (peace in the affec- 
 tions, 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 f 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 
 
 1 Crook. To pervert. See page 254. 
 
 2 Estate. State; condition; circumstances. 
 
 ' His letter there 
 
 Will show you his estate.' SJialcespere. 
 X
 
 306 Of Friendship. [Essay xxvii. 
 
 face or comeliness, say or do himself? A man can scarce allege 
 his own merits \vith modesty, much less extol them ; a man 
 cannot sometimes stoop 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 1 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 2 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. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 PEO. CONTRA. 
 
 ' Pessima solitude, non veras habere ' Qui amicitias arctas copulat, novas 
 
 amicitias. necessitates sibi imponit. 
 
 ' The worst solitude is to have no real ' He who forms close friendships, im- 
 
 friendships' poses on himself new duties' 
 
 ' Digna malse fidei ultio, amicitiis ' Animi imbecilli est, partiri fortunam. 
 
 privari. ' It is the marie of a feeble mind to 
 
 'To be deprived of friends is a Jit go shares in one's fortune with another? 
 reward of faithlessness' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' It had been hard for him that spake it to have put more truth 
 and untruth together in few words than in that speech, 
 ' Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or 
 a god.' ' 
 
 Aristotle had been so unduly and absurdly worshipped before 
 Bacon's time, that it was not inexcusable to be carried away by 
 the ebb-tide, and unduly to disparage him. But, in truth, Aristotle 
 
 1 Proper. Peculiar. 
 
 ' Faults proper to himself.' ShaTcespere. 
 
 2 Sort. To suit; to fit. 
 
 ' For different styles with different subjects sort, 
 As several garbs with country, town, and court.' Pope.
 
 Essay xxvii.] Annotations. 307 
 
 (for it is of him Bacon is speaking) was quite right in saying 
 that to Man, such as Man is, friendship is indispensable to hap- 
 piness; and that one who has no need, and feels no need of it, 
 must be either much above human nature, or much below it. 1 
 Aristotle does not presume to say that no Being can exist so 
 exalted as to be wholly independent of all other Beings, and to 
 require no sympathy, nor admit of it ; but that such a Being 
 must be a widely different Being from Man. 
 
 ' It is most untrue, that it should have any character at all of 
 divine nature.' 
 
 Well might Bacon doubt, or deny, that incapacity for friend- 
 ship could assimilate Man to the divine nature. We do not 
 find that true Christians those whom Peter describes as ' par- 
 takers of a divine nature through the great and precious promises 
 given unto them' 2 become less and less capable of friendship 
 in proportion as they, in any measure, attain to that resemblance 
 to their divine Master, which is yet to be their perfection and 
 their happiness, when they ' shall see Him as He is/ 3 and after 
 which they are now, here below, continually striving. We do 
 not find that, as they increase in universal charity, particular 
 friendships are swallowed up in it, or that any progress to higher 
 and more exalted Christian attainment makes a partial regard 
 towards one good man more than another, unworthy of them, 
 and too narrow a feeling for them to entertain. Far from it, 
 indeed : it is generally observed, on the contrary, that the best 
 Christians, and the fullest, both of brotherly love towards all 
 ' who are of the household of faith' and of universal tenderness 
 and benevolence towards all their fellow-creatures, are also the 
 warmest and steadiest in their friendships. 
 
 Nor have we any reason to believe that in the future state 
 of blessedness and glory, when the saint is indeed made perfect, 
 any part of his perfection will consist in being no longer 
 capable of special individual friendship. There are many persons, 
 however, who believe that it will be so ; and this is one of the 
 
 1 '"O df [J,rj Swafitvoq KOiViavtlv 77 prjOev SsoptvoQ Ci avrapicuav, ovQiv 
 iroXfdig- wart 77 Qritiiov ) 9io.' Arist. Politics, Book i. Bacon probably quoted 
 from a Latin translation : ' Homo solitarius, aut Deus aut bestia.' 
 
 2 2 Pet. i. 4. 3 I John iii. 2. 
 
 X 2
 
 308 Of Friendship. [Essay xxvii. 
 
 many points in which views of the eternal state of the heirs of 
 salvation are rendered more uninteresting to our feelings, and 
 consequently, more uninviting, than there is any need to make 
 them. Many suppose that when we have attained to that 
 eternal state, the more concentrated and limited affection will 
 be lost in brotherhood with that ' multitude which no man can 
 number, redeemed out of every nation, and kindred, and people/ 
 But if we find, as we do find, that private friendship does not 
 interfere with Christian brotherhood, nor with universal benevo- 
 lence, on earth, why should it do so in heaven ? 
 
 But ' we have more decisive proof than this -, 1 no one can sup- 
 pose that a Christian in his glorified state will be more exalted 
 than his great Master while here on earth ; from Him we must 
 ever remain at an immeasurable distance : we hope, indeed, to 
 be free from the sufferings of our blessed Lord in his state of 
 humiliation here below; but never to equal his perfections. 
 Yet He was not incapable of friendship. He certainly loved, 
 indeed, all mankind, more than any other man ever did ; since 
 (as Paul says) 'while we were yet enemies, He died for us;' 
 He loved especially the disciples who constantly followed Him ; 
 but even among the Apostles, He distinguished one as more 
 peculiarly and privately his friend John was c the disciple whom 
 Jesus loved' Can we then ever be too highly exalted to be 
 capable of friendship ? 
 
 ' I am convinced, on the contrary, that the extension and 
 perfection of friendship will constitute great part of the future 
 happiness of the blest. Many have lived in various and distant 
 ages and countries, perfectly adapted (I mean not merely in 
 their being generally estimable, but in the agreement of their 
 tastes, and suitableness of dispositions) for friendship with each 
 other, but who, of course, could never meet in this world. 
 Many a one selects, when he is reading history, a truly pious 
 Christian, most especially in reading sacred history, some one 
 or two favourite characters, with whom he feels that a personal 
 acquaintance would have been peculiarly delightful to him. Why 
 should not such a desire be realized in a future state ? A wish 
 to see and personally know, for example, the Apostle Paul, or 
 John, is the most likely to arise in the noblest and purest mind ; 
 
 1 From A View of the Scripture Revelations of a Future State.
 
 Essay xxvii.] Annotations. 309 
 
 I should be sorry to think such a wish absurd and presump- 
 tuous, or unlikely to be gratified. The highest enjoyment, 
 doubtless, to the blest, will be the personal knowledge of their 
 divine and beloved Master ; yet I cannot but think that some 
 part of their happiness will consist in an intimate knowledge of 
 the greatest of his followers also ; and of those of them in par- 
 ticular whose peculiar qualities are, to each, the most peculiarly 
 attractive. 
 
 ' In this world, again, our friendships are limited not only to 
 those who live in the same age and country, but to a small 
 portion even of those who are not unknown to us, and whom 
 we know to be estimable and amiable, and who, we feel, might 
 have been among our dearest friends. Our command of time 
 and leisure to cultivate friendships, imposes a limit to their 
 extent; they are bounded rather by the occupation of our 
 thoughts, than of our affections. And the removal of such im- 
 pediments in a better world, seems to me a most desirable, and 
 a most probable change. 
 
 'I see no reason, again, why those who have been dearest 
 friends on earth, should riot, when admitted to that happy state, 
 continue to be so, with full knowledge and recollection of their 
 former friendship. If a man is still to continue (as there is 
 every reason to suppose) a social Being, and capable of friend- 
 ship, it seems contrary to all probability that he should cast off 
 or forget his former friends, who are partakers with him of the 
 like exaltation. He will, indeed, be greatly changed from what 
 he was on earth, and unfitted perhaps for friendship with such 
 a Being as one of us is NOW ; but his friend will have under- 
 gone (by supposition) a corresponding change. 1 And as we have 
 seen those who have been loving playfellows in childhood, grow 
 up, if they grow up with good, and with like, dispositions, into 
 still closer friendship in riper years, so also it is probable that 
 when this our state of childhood shall be perfected, in the 
 maturity of a better world, the like attachment will continue 
 
 1 The same thought is beautifully expressed by one of the most excellent of sacred 
 poets, the author of The Christian Tear : 
 
 4 That so, before the Judgment-seat, 
 
 Though changed and glorified each face, 
 Not unremember'd we may meet, 
 For endless ages to embrace.'
 
 310 Of Friendship. [Essay xxvii. 
 
 between those companions who have trod together the Christian 
 path to Glory, and have ' taken sweet counsel together, and 
 walked in the house of God as friends. 5 A change to indiffe- 
 rence towards those who have fixed their hearts on the same 
 objects with ourselves during this earthly pilgrimage, and have 
 given and received mutual aid during their course, is a change 
 as little, I trust, to be expected, as it is to be desired. It 
 certainly is not such a change as the Scriptures teach us to 
 prepare for. 
 
 'And a belief that, under such circumstances, our earthly 
 attachments will remain, is as beneficial as it is reasonable. It 
 is likely very greatly to influence our choice of friends ; which 
 surely is no small matter. A sincere Christian would not indeed 
 be, at any rate, utterly careless whether those were sincere 
 Christians also, with whom he connected himself: but his care 
 is likely to be much greater, if he hopes, that, provided he shall 
 have selected such as are treading the same path, and if he shall 
 have studied to promote their eternal welfare, he shall meet 
 again, never to part more, those to whom his heart is most 
 engaged here below. The hope also of rejoining in a better 
 state, the friend whom he sees advancing towards that state, is 
 an additional spur to his own virtuous exertions. Everything 
 which can make heaven appear more desirable, is a help towards 
 his progress in Christian excellence ; and as one of the greatest 
 of earthly enjoyments to the best and most exalted Christian, is 
 to witness the happiness of a friend, so, one of the brightest of 
 his hopes will be, that of exulting in the most perfect happiness 
 of those most dear to him. 
 
 'As for the grief, which a man may be supposed to feel, for 
 the loss the total and final loss of some who may have been 
 dear to him on earth, as well as of vast multitudes, I fear, of 
 his fellow-creatures, I have only this to remark : that a wise, and 
 good man in this life, though he never ceases to use his en- 
 deavours to reclaim the wicked, and to diminish every kind of 
 evil and suffering, yet, in cases where it is clear that no good can 
 be done by him, strives, as far as possible (though often without 
 much success), to withdraw his thoughts from evil which he 
 cannot lessen, but which still, in spite of his efforts, will often 
 cloud his mind. We cannot at pleasure draw off our thoughts 
 entirely from painful subjects which it is in vain to meditate
 
 Essay xxvii.] Annotations. 311 
 
 about. The power to do this completely, when we will, would 
 be a great increase of happiness ; and this power, therefore, it is 
 reasonable to suppose the blessed will possess in the world to 
 come that they will occupy their minds entirely with the 
 thoughts of things agreeable, and in which their exertions can 
 be of service ; and will be able, by an effort of the will, com- 
 pletely to banish and exclude every idea that might alloy their 
 happiness.' 
 
 ' A desire to sequester a man's self for a higher conversation 
 such as is found .... really and truly in divers of the 
 ancient hermits and holy fathers of the Church' 
 
 Bacon here seems to agree in that commendation of a mo- 
 nastic life which is sometimes heard even now from Protestants. 
 On this subject I take leave to quote a passage from the 
 Cautions for the Times. 
 
 ' The monks are represented by Roman-catholic writers as all 
 pious men, who, bent upon the cultivation of a religious temper 
 of mind, withdrew from the world for that purpose ; as if the 
 business and duties of this world were not the very discipline 
 which God has appointed for cultivating real righteousness in 
 us. And then, the learning, peace, and piety of the monas- 
 teries is strongly contrasted with the ignorance and irreligion 
 and perpetual wars, of the dark and troublous times, which are 
 commonly called 'the middle ages/ in such a manner that 
 even Protestants are sometimes led to think and say that, at 
 least in former times, and for those times, the monasteries were 
 commendable institutions. But they forget that it was the very 
 system of which these were a part, which made the world so dark 
 and unquiet; and then, like the ivy which has reduced a fine 
 building to a shattered ruin, they held together the fragments 
 of that ruin. 
 
 ' Of course, if you teach men that holiness can be only, or can 
 be best attained by withdrawing from the world into a cloister, 
 all those who are bent on living a holy life will withdraw from 
 the world ; and they will, in so withdrawing, take from the 
 world that which should reform it the benefit of their teaching, 
 and the encouragement of their example. One after another 
 all those most promising men, who should have been, each m
 
 312 Of Friendship. [Essay xxvii. 
 
 the place where Providence had set him, ' the light of the 
 world/ and ' the salt of the earth/ will leave the station to which 
 God had called them, and seclude themselves within the walls 
 of a monastery; and then, in proportion as the influence of 
 good men is removed more and more, society will become every 
 day worse and worse. The business and pleasures of the world 
 will be looked upon as necessarily sinful, and those who mix in 
 them as necessarily unholy; and the thought of using them as 
 a discipline in godliness, and learning how to ' use this world 
 without abusing it/ will be lost out of men's minds ; till at last, 
 by the working of such a system, all appearance of piety will 
 really be confined to the monasteries, and the common state of 
 society, and the ordinary course of life, will be tainted with 
 impurity, and disturbed by violence, and the world will seem 
 again, as it did in heathen times, to ' lie in wickedness.' When 
 the SALT is thus drawn away from the mass, and collected to 
 particular spots, the remainder is left to putrefy. 
 
 ' Let us illustrate this by an example. Some, even English- 
 men, Mho have visited Slave-States, are satisfied at being told 
 that the slaves are far better off and more civilized there than 
 in their own barbarian countries ; which is, probably, for the 
 most part true. But why have the African countries continued 
 so long in gross barbarism ? They have long had intercourse 
 with Europeans, who might have taught them to raise sugar 
 and cotton, &c., at home, for the European markets, and in 
 other ways might have civilized them. And it cannot be said 
 that they are incapable of learning ; since free negroes in various 
 countries, though they have the disadvantage of being a de- 
 graded caste, are yet (however inferior to us) far advanced 
 beyond the savage tribes of Africa. 
 
 ' But it is the very slave-trade itself that has kept them bar- 
 barians, by encouraging wars for the purpose of taking captives 
 to be sold as slaves, and the villanous practices of kidnapping, 
 and trading in each other's happiness and liberties. It is the 
 very system itself, which men seek to excuse by pointing out 
 the comfortable state of slaves when they are caught and sold, 
 that, to a great extent, produces, and must, if persisted in, per- 
 petuate, the barbarous condition with which this comparative 
 comfort is contrasted. The whole of these African tribes might, 
 under a better system, have enjoyed in freedom, far, very far,
 
 Essay xxvii.] Annotations. 313 
 
 greater comfort in their native land, than that which some of 
 them now possess, as slaves, in a foreign land. 
 
 ' So, also, in the case of the monasteries. Those who shut 
 themselves up there might have exercised a much better and 
 more rational piety (like the Apostles and first Christians) out 
 of them, and in the world ; and if they had lived amongst their 
 fellow-men, would have helped to raise the whole tone of society 
 around them. And it was just the same evil system which 
 buried some good men (like lamps in sepulchres) in the cells of 
 monasteries, and made the general mass of society outside the 
 walls of those establishments so bad, that it seemed to excuse 
 their withdrawal from it. 
 
 ' It is to be acknowledged, indeed, that some monks some- 
 times did some good for the rest of the world. They were 
 often engaged in education, attendance on the poor, copying of 
 manuscripts, agriculture, &c., and all these were really useful 
 occupations. It is not to these things we object, when we 
 object to monasteries ; for with monasteries these have no 
 necessary connexion. 
 
 ' Let associations be formed FOR a good object, when need- 
 ful ; instead of first forming an association as an end in itself, 
 and then looking out for something for it to do; else, that 
 something, being a secondary matter, will sometimes be ill 
 done, or neglected, and sometimes will be what had better be 
 left undone/ 
 
 ' 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 a man's self.' 
 
 I have already remarked, in the notes on ' Truth/ that men 
 are in danger of exercising on themselves, when under the in- 
 fluence of some passion, a most pernicious oratorical power, by 
 pleading the cause, as it were, each, before himself, of that 
 passion. Suppose it anger, for instance, that he is feeling ; he 
 is naturally disposed to dwell on, and amplify the aggravating 
 circumstances of the supposed provocation, so as to make out a 
 good case for himself. This of course tends to heighten his re- 
 sentment, and to satisfy him that he ' doth well to be angry ;'
 
 314 Of Friendship. [Essay xxvii. 
 
 or perhaps to persuade him that he is not angry, but is a model 
 of patience under intolerable wrongs. And the like takes place, 
 if it be selfish cupidity, unjust partiality, party-spirit, or any 
 other passion that may be operating. For, universally, men 
 are but too apt to take more pains in justifying their propensi- 
 ties, than it would cost to control them. 
 
 But besides the danger of self-deceit, when under the imme- 
 diate influence of a passion, many a man deceives himself as to 
 what really are his own natural tendencies. For instance, one 
 who is somewhat inclined to the love of money may fancy him- 
 self remarkably liberal ; because every act of liberality will have 
 cost him such an effort, that he will think much of it, as a most 
 heroic sacrifice. A man, again, who has much self-esteem, may 
 fancy himself peculiarly modest and humble, because he will 
 view, as it were, through a maguifying-glass any act of conde- 
 scension, and will seem to himself to be lowering his own just 
 pretensions, when he is taking upon himself less than he thinks 
 he has a fair claim to, though, in reality, more than is right. 
 And so in other cases. 
 
 Now, as the advice of a good physician may be of use in 
 helping us to understand our own bodily constitution, so a 
 judicious friend, a wise and candid counsellor, may perform a 
 like service in the important point of self-knowledge, and help 
 to guard us against this kind of self-deceit. It is said that, 
 according to the Hindu law, the penalty denounced against a 
 breach of conjugal fidelity is remitted only in case of the induce- 
 ment to its commission having been the present of an elephant, 
 this being considered a douceur too magnificent for any one 
 to be expected to refuse. Now, in Europe, though an actual 
 elephant is not the very thing that offers the strongest temptation, 
 there is in most people's conscience something analogous to it ; 
 and different things are ' elephants ' to different people. Happy 
 is that man who has a faithful friend to remind him to be on 
 the look-out for, and to help him to discover, his ' elephant/ 
 
 ' Observing our faults in others is sometimes improper for 
 our case' 
 
 It will always be improper for our case, unless we make the 
 right use of such observation, which is, so to estimate the
 
 Essay xxvii.] Annotations. 315 
 
 temptations of others that we may the better understand our 
 own. 
 
 ' How is it, men, when they in judgment sit 
 On the same faults, now censure, now acquit ? 
 'Tis not that they are to the error blind, 
 But that a different object fills the mind. 
 Judging of others, we can see too well 
 Their grievous fall ; but not, how grieved they fell : 
 Judging ourselves, we to our minds recall, 
 Not how we fell, but how we grieved to fall.' 1 
 
 But though ten thousand of the greatest faults in others are, 
 to us, of less consequence than one small fault in ourselves, yet 
 self-approval is so much more agreeable to us than self-exami- 
 nation which, as Bacon says, f is a medicine sometimes too 
 piercing and corrosive/ that we are more ready to examine 
 our neighbours than ourselves, and to rest satisfied with finding, 
 or fancying, that we are better than they ; forgetting that, even 
 if it really is so, better does not always imply good ; and that 
 our course of duty is not like a race which is won by him who 
 runs, however slowly, if the rest are still slower. It is this 
 forgetfulness that causes bad examples to do much the greatest 
 amount of evil among those who do not follow them. For, 
 among the four kinds of bad examples that do us harm 
 namely, those we imitate those we proudly exult over those 
 which drive us into an opposite extreme and those which 
 lower our standard, this last is the most hurtful. For one 
 who is corrupted by becoming as bad as a bad example, there 
 are ten that are debased by being content with being better. 
 
 But though this observing of faults in another is thus 
 ' sometimes improper for our case' and though, at any time, 
 to dwell on the faults of another is wrong, yet in the case of 
 a friend, though not of a stranger, we are perhaps ready to fall 
 into the opposite error, of overlooking them altogether, or of 
 defending them. Now, it is absolutely necessary to perceive 
 and acknowledge them : for, if we think ourselves bound to 
 vindicate them in our friend, we shall not be very likely to 
 condemn them in ourselves. Self-love will, most likely, demand 
 
 1 Crabbe, Tales of the Hall.
 
 316 Of Friendship. [Essay xxvii. 
 
 fair play, and urge that what is right in our friend is not wrong 
 in us ; and we shall have been perverting our own principles of 
 morality; thus turning the friendship that might yield such 
 ' fair fruit' into a baneful poison-tree. 
 
 ' The two noble fruits of friendship (peace in the affections, and 
 support of the judgment) follow the last fruit, which is, like 
 the pomegranate, full of many kernels . , . ,' 
 
 ' The manifold use of friendship' 
 
 One of these manifold uses of friendship is, the advantage, 
 not noticed by Bacon, to be derived from a very, very discreet 
 and pure-minded friend; that you may trust him to conceal 
 from you some things which you had better not know. There 
 are cases in which there is an advantage in knowing, and an 
 advantage in not knowing; and the two cannot of course be 
 combined, except by the thing being known to your other self 
 your 'alter ipse/ and kept back from you. 
 
 For instance, a man may have done something amiss ; your 
 friend may say to him, ' I have not told my friend of this, and 
 will not, provided you take care to discontinue the practice to 
 rectify what is done wrong, to keep clear of any repetition, 
 &c., as the case may be/ And he will be more encouraged to 
 do so if he knows that your estimation of him is not as yet 
 impaired. And yet such a person has need to be carefully 
 looked after ; which of course your friend will take care to do. 
 
 And there are other cases also in which such a concealment 
 will be advantageous. But of course one who can be so trusted 
 must be, as has been said, one of consummate wisdom and 
 integrity. 
 
 It may be worth noticing as a curious circumstance, when 
 persons past forty before they were at all acquainted, form 
 together a very close intimacy of friendship. For grafts of old 
 wood to take, there must be a wonderful congeniality between 
 the trees.
 
 ESSAY XXVIII. OF EXPENSE. 
 
 RICHES are for spending, and spending for honour and good 
 actions therefore extraordinary expense must be limited 
 by the worth of the occasion : for voluntary undoing 1 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 2 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 3 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 4 to bring 
 themselves into melancholy, in respect 5 they shall find it broken: 
 but wounds cannot be cured without searching. He that can- 
 not look into his own estate at all had need both chuse 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 behoveth 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 6 as interest. Besides, he that 
 clears at once will relapse, for, finding himself out of straits, he 
 
 1 Undoing. Ruin. ' He that ventures to be a surety for another, ventures 
 undoing for his sake.' South. 
 
 2 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 8 Wax. To grow ; to become. See page 303. 
 
 4 Douht. To fear. 
 
 ' I doubt there's deep resentment in his mind.' Otway. 
 
 5 In respect. In case. 
 
 6 Disadvantageable. Disadvantageous. ' The said court had given a very dis- 
 advantageable relation of three great farms.' Addison.
 
 318 Of Expense. [Essay xxviii. 
 
 will revert to his customs ; but he that cleareth by degrees in- 
 duceth a habit of frugality, and gaineth as well upon his mind 
 as upon his estate. Certainly, who 1 hath a state to repair may 
 not despise small things : and, commonly, it is less dishonour- 
 able 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. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 ' Riches are for spending, and spending for honour.' 
 
 For those who are above the poorest classes, the heaviest, or 
 some of the heaviest expenses are, as Bacon expresses it, ( for 
 honour ' i.e. for the display of wealth. "We do not, indeed, 
 commonly speak of ' display of wealth ' except when the wealth 
 and the display of it are something unusually great. We speak 
 rather of ' living in a decent, or in a handsome style/ But this 
 does certainly imply the purchase of many articles which we 
 provide ourselves with because they are costly; which are pro- 
 vided in order to be observed, and observed as costly; or, which 
 comes to the same thing, because the absence of them would be 
 observed as denoting shabbiness. For instance, a silver watch, 
 or a gilt one, is as useful as a gold one ; and beech or cherry- 
 tree makes as useful furniture as mahogany or rosewood. And 
 as for the mere gratification to the eye, of the superior beauty 
 of these latter, this is, to persons of moderate means, no suf- 
 ficient set-off against the difference of cost. Moreover, a bunch 
 of wild flowers, or a necklace of crab's- eye-seeds, &c., are as 
 pretty to look at, and as becoming, as jewels or coral ; and if 
 these latter were to become equally cheap, some other kind of 
 decoration would be sought for, and prized on account of its 
 known costliness. 
 
 For, though people censure any one for making a display 
 beyond his station, yet if he falls below it in what are considered 
 
 Who. He who. See page 100.
 
 Essay xxviii.] Annotations. 319 
 
 the decencies of his station, he is considered as either absurdly 
 penurious, or else very poor. 
 
 And why, it may be asked, should any one be at all ashamed 
 of this latter, supposing his poverty is not the result of any 
 misconduct? The answer is, that though poverty is not ac- 
 counted, by any persons of sense, disgraceful, the exposure of it is 
 felt to be a thing indecent : and though, accordingly, a right- 
 minded man does not seek to make a secret of it, he 
 does not like to expose it, any more than he would to go 
 without clothes. 
 
 The Greeks and Romans had no distinct expressions for the 
 ' disgraceful ' and the ' indecent :' ' turpe ' and aiay^pov served 
 to express both. And some of the ancient philosophers, espe- 
 cially the Cynics (see Cic. de Off.} founded paradoxes on this 
 ambiguity, and thus bewildered their hearers and themselves. 
 For, it is a great disadvantage not to have (as our language has) 
 distinct expressions for things really different. 
 
 There are several things, by the way, besides those just at- 
 tended to, which are of the character of, not disgraceful, but 
 indecent : that is, of the existence of which we are not ashamed, 
 but which we should be ashamed to obtrude on any one's notice : 
 e.g. self-love, which is the deliberate desire for one's own hap- 
 piness ; and regard for the good opinion of others. These are 
 not when not carried to excess vices, and consequently are 
 not disgraceful. Any vice, a man wishes to be thought not 
 to have ; but no one pretends or wishes to be thought wholly 
 destitute of all regard for his own welfare, or for the good 
 opinion of his fellow- creatures. But a man of sense and 
 delicacy keeps these in the background, and, as it were, clothes 
 them ; because they become offensive when prominently dis- 
 played. 
 
 And so it is with poverty. A man of sense is not ashamed 
 of it, or of deliberately confessing it ; but he keeps the marks 
 of it out of sight. 
 
 These observations a person was making to a friend, who 
 strenuously controverted his views, and could not, or would not, 
 perceive the distinction above pointed out. ' I, for my part,' 
 said he, ' am poor, and I feel no shame at all at its being 
 known. Why, this coat that I now have on, I have had turned, 
 because I could not well afford a new one ; and I care not who
 
 320 Of Expense. [Essay xxviii. 
 
 knows it.' He did not perceive that he had established the 
 very point he was controverting ; for if there had been, in his 
 view, nothing indecent in the display of poverty, he would have 
 worn the coat without turning. He might have had it scoured 
 if needful ; but though clean, it would still have looked thread- 
 bare ; and he did not like to make this display of poverty. 
 
 ' Ordinary expense ought to be limited by a man's estate.' 
 
 It is of course a great folly and a very common one, for 
 a man to impoverish himself by a showy expenditure beyond 
 his means. And it is a minor folly, for him without out- 
 running to make a display beyond his station, and to waste 
 money on show such as was not expected of him, when he might, 
 obviously, have found many better uses for it. But when to 
 chuse the time as to each point, would of course be no easy 
 matter. 
 
 Perhaps it may be laid down in reference to what may be 
 called ornamental expense anything that is not so strictly re- 
 quired as a decency, that you would be censured and ridiculed for 
 being without it, that you should have such articles only as 
 you can afford, not only to buy, but to replace ; supposing them 
 of a perishable nature. 
 
 For, the ' honour/ as Bacon calls it, of any display of wealth, 
 consists, surely, in not only having such and such articles, but 
 having them without uneasiness ; without any very anxious 
 care about them. If you have a very fine set of china-ware, and 
 are in a continual apprehension of its being broken, you had 
 better, in point of respectability as well as of comfort, have been 
 content with plain Worcester. If a lady is in a perpetual fever 
 lest some costly veil or gown should be soiled or torn, this 
 indicates that she would have done better to wear a less costly 
 dress. There is something in what is said by little Sandford 
 in the f Tale/ who preferred a horn cup to one of silver, 
 ' because it never made him uneasy.' 
 
 Of course it is not meant that a man should not live in a 
 house such as he could not afford with perfect ease to rebuild 
 if it were burnt down ; or that he ought to be thus prepared to 
 meet with other such extraordinary calamities. But he should 
 be prepared to meet each kind of accident that each kind of
 
 Essay xxviii.] Annotations. 321 
 
 article respectively is commonly liable to : e.g. glass and porce- 
 lain to be broken, trinkets to be dropped and lost, horses to be 
 lamed, &c. If you cannot face the ordinary and average 
 amount of accidents with respect to any such article, or if it is 
 a matter of anxious care and uneasiness, you are better without 
 it. For, this anxious care and uneasiness proves that the ex- 
 pense is a great one to you. You may indeed conceal this 
 anxious care, and show, externally, a feigned composure and 
 indifference. But then you are undergoing all this uneasiness, 
 and also all this labour to hide this uneasiness, for the sake 
 of appearing richer than you are. But to one who has no wish 
 of this kind, the proper measure is, with a view to respectability, 
 as well as peace of mind, not what expenses he can afford, but 
 what he can habitually afford without feeling them a grievous 
 care. 
 
 Of course higher motives come in, when one considers the 
 good that may be done, to our friends and to the poor, by 
 curtailing showy expenditure. 
 
 It is wonderful how some people fail to perceive what an 
 absurd and ridiculous figure a man makes who is continually 
 bemoaning the narrowness of his means, and setting forth the 
 hardship of his case in not having a better income, while he is 
 sitting in a room full of inlaid tables, splendid inkstands and 
 boxes, and other costly gewgaws, which it is no discredit at all 
 to be without, and which are thought desirable chiefly as a 
 display of wealth. 
 
 ' It is no baseness for the greatest to descend and look into 
 their own estate.' 
 
 It is worth remarking, as a curious circumstance, and the 
 reverse of what many would expect, that the expenses called 
 for by a real or imagined necessity, of those who have large 
 incomes, are greater in proportion than those of persons with 
 slender means ; and that consequently a larger proportion of 
 what are called the rich, are in embarrassed circumstances, than 
 of the poorer. This is often overlooked, because the absolute 
 number of those with large incomes is so much less, that, of 
 course, the absolute number of persons under pecuniary difficul- 
 ties, in the poorer classes, must form a very great majority. But 
 
 Y
 
 322 Of Expense. [Essay xxviii. 
 
 if you look to the proportions, it is quite the reverse. Take the 
 numbers of persons of each amount of income, divided into 
 classes, from 100 per annum up to 100,000 per annum, and 
 you will find the per centage of those who are under pecuniary 
 difficulties continually augmenting as you go upwards. And 
 when you come to sovereign States, whose revenue is reckoned 
 by millions, you will hardly find one that is not deeply involved 
 in debt ! So that it would appear that the larger the income, 
 the harder it is to live within it. 
 
 Bacon himself affords a most deplorable instance of this. 
 "With a very large income, he was involved by his extravagance 
 in such pecuniary difficulties as drove him to practise shameful 
 corruption. 
 
 When men of great revenues, whether civil or ecclesiastical, 
 live in the splendour and sensuality of Sardanapalus, they are 
 apt to plead that this is expected of them ; which may be, 
 perhaps, sometimes true, in the sense that such conduct is 
 anticipated as probable ; not true, as implying that it is re- 
 quired or approved. I have elsewhere 1 remarked upon this 
 ambiguity in the word ' expect ' but it is worth noticing as 
 sometimes leading, in conjunction with other causes, to a prac- 
 tical bad effect upon this point of expenses as well as upon 
 many others. It is sometimes used in the sense of ' anticipate/ 
 ' calculate on/ &c. (tA7r/w), in short, ' consider as probable,' 
 sometimes for ' require or demand as reasonable/ ' consider as 
 right' (aid>). Thus, I may fairly 'expect' (aiw) that one who 
 has received kindness from me, should .protect me in distress ; 
 yet I may have reason to expect (eXirifaw) that he will not. 
 'England expects every man to do his duty;' but it would 
 be chimerical to expect, that is, anticipate a universal per- 
 formance of duty. "What may reasonably be expected (in one 
 sense of the word), must be precisely the practice of the 
 majority : since it is the majority of instances that constitutes 
 probability : what may reasonably be expected (in the other 
 sense), is something much beyond the practice of the generality : 
 as long, at least, as it shall be true, that ' narrow is the way 
 that leadeth to life, and few there be that find it/ 
 
 1 Ulementt of Logic, Appendix.
 
 Essay xxviii.] 
 
 Annotations. 
 
 323 
 
 ' He that is plentiful in expenses of all kinds will hardly be 
 preserved from decay.' 
 
 Obviously true as this is, yet it is apparently completely over- 
 looked by the imprudent spendthrift, who, finding that he is 
 able to afford this, or that, or the other, expense, forgets that 
 all of them together will ruin him. This is what, in logical 
 language, is called the ' Fallacy of Composition/
 
 ESSAY XXIX. OF THE TRUE GREATNESS 
 OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. 1 
 
 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/ 2 
 These words (holpen 3 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, 4 but 
 yet are so far from being able to make a small State great, as 5 
 their gift lieth the other way to bring a great and flourishing 
 estate to ruin and decay. And, certainly, those degenerate arts 
 and shifts, whereby many counsellors and governors gain both 
 favour 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 incon- 
 veniences, 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 6 fit for great and mighty princes to 
 
 1 Estates. States. See page 146. " Plut. Fit. Themist. ad init. 
 
 3 Holpen. See page 223. 
 
 4 Cunningly. Skilfully. 
 
 ' And many bards that to the trembling chord 
 Can tune their timely voices cunningly.' Spenser. 
 
 * As. That. See page 26. 
 
 * Argument. Subject. 
 
 ' Sad task ! yet argument 
 Not less, but more, heroic than the wrath 
 Of stern Achilles.' Milton.
 
 Essay xxix.] Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms, fyc. 325 
 
 have in their hand ; to the end that neither by over-measuring 
 their forces, they lose 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 mus- 
 ters, and the number and greatness of cities and towns by cards 
 and maps ; but yet there is not anything, amongst civil affairs, 
 more subject to error, than the right valuation and true judg- 
 ment 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 ; l which is one of the least 
 grains, but hath in it a property and spirit hastily to get up 
 and spread. So are there States great in territory, and yet not 
 apt to enlarge or command : and some that have but a small 
 dimension of stem, and yet are apt 2 to be the foundation of 
 great monarchies. 
 
 Walled towns, stored arsenals and armories, 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 3 not much, where 
 the people are of weak courage ; for, as Virgil saith, ' It never 
 troubles the wolf how many the sheep be/ 4 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 ; but he answered, ' He would not pilfer the 
 victory' 5 and the defeat was easy. When Tigranes, the Ar- 
 menian, 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 
 
 1 Matt. xiii. 31. 
 
 2 Apt. Qualified for ; adapted to. ' All that were strong and apt for war.' 
 2 Kings, 
 
 3 Import. To be of importance. See page 24. 
 
 4 Virgil, Eel. vii. gi. 
 * A. L. I. vii. II.
 
 326 Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms, tyc. [Essay xxix. 
 
 ambassage, 1 and too few for a fight ;' but before the sunset, he 
 found them enow 2 to give him the chase with infinite slaughter. 3 
 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 mili- 
 tary 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 soberly 4 of his 
 forces, except his militia of natives be of good and valiant sol- 
 diers ; 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, what- 
 soever estate or prince doth rest upon them, he may spread his 
 feathers for a time, but he will mew them soon after. 
 
 The blessing of Judas and Issachar 5 will never meet ; that 
 the same people or nation, should be both the lion's whelp, and 
 the ass between burdens, neither will it be, that a people 
 overlaid with taxes, should ever become valiant and martial. 
 It is true, that taxes, levied by consent of the estate, do abate 
 men's courage less, as it hath been seen notably 6 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 7 upon the courage. So that you may 
 
 1 Ambassage. Embassy, ' He sendeth an ambassage, and desireth conditions 
 of peace.' Luke xiv. 32. 
 
 2 Enow. Old plural of enough. 
 
 ' Man hath selfish foes enow besides, 
 
 That day and night for his destruction wait/ Milton. 
 8 Pint. Tit. Luculli, 27. 
 
 * Soberly. Moderately. ' Not to think of himself more highly than he ought 
 to think, but to think soberly.' Romans xii. 3. 
 
 * Gen. xlix. 9, 14. 
 
 ' Notably. In a remarkable manner. (From the adjective notable.) 
 
 ' He is a most notable coward.' Shakespere. 
 7 Diversely. Differently. (From diverse.) See page 24.
 
 Essay xxix.] Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms, fyc. 327 
 
 conclude, that no people overcharged with tribute is fit for 
 empire. 
 
 Let States, that aim at greatness, take heed how their nobi- 
 lity and gentlemen do multiply too fast ; for that maketh the 
 common subject grow to be a peasant and base swain, driven 
 out of heart, and, in effect, but a gentleman's labourer. 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, the 
 commons will be base and you will bring it to that, that not 
 the hundredth 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 no where 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 1 
 the middle people of England make good soldiers, which the 
 peasants of France do not : herein the device of King Henry VII. 
 (whereof I have spoken largely in the history of his life) was 
 profound and admirable, in making farms and houses of hus- 
 bandry of a standard, that is, maintained with such a propor- 
 tion of land unto them, as may breed a subject to live in con- 
 venient 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 glebse/ 2 
 
 Neither is the estate 3 (which for anything 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 question, the splendour and 
 magnificence and great retinues, the hospitality of noblemen and 
 gentlemen received into custom, do much conduce unto martial 
 
 1 In regard. For the reason that; on account of. 'Change was thought 
 necessary in regard of the injury the Church had received.' Hooker. 
 
 2 Virg. Mneid, i. 335. 
 
 ' For deeds of arms, and fertile soil renown'd.' 
 
 3 Estate. Order of men. See page 146.
 
 328 Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms, fyc. [Essay xxix. 
 
 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 Nebu- 
 chadnezzar's tree of monarchy 2 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 strange 
 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 3 people in point of naturalization ; whereby, while 
 they kept their compass, they stood firm, but when they did 
 spread, and their boughs were become too great for their stem, 
 they became a windfall upon the sudden. Never any State 
 was, in this point, so open to receive strangers into their Body 
 as were the Romans; therefore it sorted 4 with them accordingly, 
 for they grew to the greatest monarchy. Their manner was to 
 grant naturalization (which they called 'jus civitatis' 5 ) and to 
 grant it in the highest degree, that is, not only ( jus commercii, 
 jus connubii, jus haereditatis/ but also r 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 
 
 1 Procured. Contrived; cared for. 
 
 ' Proceed, Salinus, to procure my fall.' ShaJcespere. 
 
 2 Dan. iv. 10, seq. * Nice. Difficult. 
 4 Sort. To succeed ; to happen. 
 
 ' And if it sort not well.' ShaJcespere. 
 
 6 ' The right of citizenship.' 
 
 ' The right of traffic, the right of marriage, the right of inheritance, the right 
 of voting, and the right of hearing offices.' 
 
 7 Singular. Single. ' That which represents one determinate thing is called a 
 singular idea.' Watts.
 
 Essay xxix.] Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms, fyc. 329 
 
 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 em- 
 ploy, 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 deli- 
 cate 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 1 neither must they be too much 
 broken off it, if they shall be preserved in vigour : therefore it 
 was great advantage in the ancient States of Sparta, Athens, 
 Rome, and others, that they had the use of slaves, which corn- 
 monly did rid 2 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, &c., not reckon- 
 ing professed soldiers. 
 
 But, above all, for empire and greatness, it importeth 3 most, 
 that a nation do profess arms as their principal honour, study, 
 and occupation ; for the things which we have formerly spoken 
 of are but habilitations 4 towards arms ; and what is habilitation 
 without intention and act ? Romulus, after his death (as they 
 report, or feign), sent a present 5 to the Romans, that above all 
 they should intend 6 arms, and then they should prove the 
 
 1 Travail. Toil ; labour. ' As every thing of price, so this doth require 
 travail.' Hooker. 
 
 2 Rid. To dispatch. 
 
 ' We'll thither straight ; for willingness rids vtay.'Shakespere. 
 
 3 Import. To be of importance. See page 24. 
 
 4 Habilitation. Qualification. 
 
 5 Present. A mandate. 
 
 ' Be it known to all men hy these presents.' ShaTcespere. 
 
 6 Intend. To pay attention to. 
 
 ' Go, therefore, mighty powers ! intend at home, 
 While here shall be our home, what best may ease 
 The present misery.' Milton.
 
 330 Qf the True Greatness of Kingdoms, fyc. [Essay xxix. 
 
 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 great- 
 ness fall into their mouths : and, on the other, side, it is a most 
 certain oracle of time, that those States that continue long in 
 that profession (as the Romans and Turks principally have 
 done), do wonders ; and those that have professed arms but for 
 an age, have, notwithstanding, commonly attained that great- 
 ness in that age which maintained them long after, when their 
 profession and exercise of arms hath grown to decay. 
 
 Incident 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 1 ) 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 2 that 
 he may always command. The Romans, though they esteemed 
 the extending the limits of their empire to be great honour to 
 their generals when it was done, yet they never rested upon 
 that alone to begin a war. First, therefore, let nations that 
 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 3 and ready to give aids and succours to their confederates, 
 as it ever was with the Romans ; insomuch, as if the confede- 
 rates had leagues defensive with divers other States, and, upon 
 
 1 Pretend. To put forward. 
 
 ' And his left foot pretends.' Dry den. 
 a Quarrel. Season ; ground for any action. See page 96. 
 3 Prest. Eager ; quick. 
 
 ' Each mind is prest, and open every ear, 
 
 To hear new tidings.' Fairfax. 
 ' They pour'd presily into the hall.' Old Ballad, 1727.
 
 Essay xxix.] Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms, fyc. 331 
 
 invasion offered, did implore their aids severally, yet the Romans 
 would ever be the foremost, and leave it to none other to have 
 the honour. As for the wars, which were anciently made on 
 the behalf of a kind of party, or tacit conformity of state, I do 
 not see how they may be well justified; as when the Romans 
 made a war for the liberty of Grsecia, 1 or when the Lacedae- 
 monians and Athenians made war to set up or pull down demo- 
 cracies and oligarchies ; or when wars were made by foreigners, 
 under the pretence of justice or protection, to deliver the sub- 
 jects 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 honourable 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, 2 and manners 
 corrupt. But howsoever it be for happiness, without all ques- 
 tion 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 neigh- 
 bour States, as may be well seen in Spain; which hath had, in 
 one part or other, a veteran army almost continually, now by 3 
 the space of six-score years. 
 
 To be master of the sea 4 is an abridgment of a monarchy. 
 Cicero, writing to Atticus of Pompey's preparation against Csesar, 
 saith, ' Consilium Pompeii plane Themistocleum est ; putat enim, 
 qui mari potitur, eum rerum potiri ;' and without doubt, Pompey 
 had tired out Ca3sar, 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 
 
 1 Grsecia. Greece. ' And the rough goat is the King of Grecia.' Dan. viii. 2 1 . 
 
 2 Effeminate. To become effeminate or weak. 
 
 ' In a slothful prince, courage will effeminate.' Pope. 
 
 3 By. During. ' Sy the space of three years I ceased not to warn every one, 
 night and day, with tears.' Acts xx. 31. 
 
 4 ' Pompey's plan is plainly from Themistocles ; for he judges that whoever be- 
 comes master of the sea is master of all things.' Ad Attic, x. 8.
 
 332 Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms, fyc. [Essay xxix. 
 
 is when princes, or States, have set up their rest upon the 
 battles ; but thus much is certain, that he that commands the 
 sea 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 1 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 2 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 later ages seem to be made in the dark, in re- 
 spect of the glory and honour which reflected upon men from 
 the wars in ancieut time. There be now, for martial encourage- 
 ment, some degrees and orders of chivalry, which, nevertheless, 
 are conferred promiscuously upon soldiers and no soldiers, and 
 some remembrance perhaps upon the escutcheon, and some hos- 
 pitals for maimed soldiers, and such like things ; but in ancient 
 times, the trophies erected upon the place of the victory, the 
 funeral laudatives 3 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, 4 but one of 
 the wisest and noblest institutions that ever was : for it con- 
 tained three things, honour to the general, riches to the treasury 
 out of the spoils, and donatives to the army. But that honour, 
 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 5 the actual 
 triumphs to themselves and their sons, for such wars as they did 
 
 1 Vantage. Advantage. 
 
 ' Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong.' Sha&espere. 
 
 2 Merely. Completely. See Note to Essay LVIII. 
 
 3 Laudatives. Panegyrics. ' The first was a laudative of monarchy.' Bacon's 
 Speech. 
 
 4 Gaudery. Ostentatious finery. ' The utmost gaudery of youth.' South. 
 
 6 Impropriate. Appropriate. ' A supercilious tyranny, impropriating the 
 Spirit of God to themselves.' Milton.
 
 Essay xxix.] Annotations. 333 
 
 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/ l 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. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' All States that are liberal of naturalization towards strangers 
 are fit for empire.' 
 
 What Bacon says of naturalization is most true, and im- 
 portant, and not enough attended to. But he attributes more 
 liberality in this point to the Romans than is their due. He 
 seems to have forgotten their ' Social War/ brought on entirely 
 by their refusal to admit their subjects to civil rights. 
 
 It is remarkable that, under the kings, and again under the 
 emperors, there was the most of this liberality, and under the 
 Republic, the least. This is quite natural : when it is the 
 citizens that govern, they naturally feel jealous of others being 
 admitted to an equality with them ; but the sovereign has no 
 reason to wish that one class or portion of his subjects should 
 have an invidious advantage over another. There is an excep- 
 tion to this in cases where religious fanaticism comes in; as is 
 to be seen in the Turkish empire, where Christian subjects have 
 always been kept as a kind of Helots. 
 
 On the ruinous results of keeping a portion of the people in 
 such a state, I have already dwelt in the notes to the Essay on 
 ' Seditions and Troubles/ 
 
 A somewhat similar disadvantage in respect of advancement 
 
 1 Probably r/Xi/a'a means not stature, but age. See John ix. 21-23; ^el. xi. 
 1 1 ; and Luke xii. 20. 
 
 2 Touch. To treat slightly. ' If the antiquaries have touched it, they have 
 immediately quitted it.' Addison.
 
 334 Of M ie True Greatness of Kingdoms, fyc. [Essay xxix. 
 
 in virtue, at least, would attend any community whose institutions 
 were such as tended to arm against the laws large bodies of 
 such persons, as were not, in the outset, destitute of all moral 
 principle, but whose mode of life was a fit training to make 
 them become so. Such are poachers and smugglers. An ex- 
 cessive multiplication of the latter class is produced by the 
 enactment of laws, whose object is, not revenue, but the exclu- 
 sion of foreign productions, for the supposed benefit of domestic 
 industry. Whatever may be thought of the expediency of those 
 laws with a view to national wealth, all must agree that the 
 extension of smuggling must produce the most demoralizing 
 effects. 
 
 ' They enter not upon wars but upon some at least specious 
 
 grounds.' 
 
 It is a very curious fact, that, throughout great part of the 
 world, England has a bad name for perfidy, and for grasping 
 ambition ; while, in truth, it is probably the only great nation 
 that ever was free from ambition ; and is pre-eminent for good 
 faith. Territorial aggrandizement has often been avoided by us, 
 when there would have been a plausible plea for it ; and so far 
 from being [as by most States] welcomed with exultation, even 
 when unjust, is regarded by the English Public as needing 
 apology, even when it is in a manner forced upon us by circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Yet Napoleon the Great never ceased to declaim against 
 the perfidious arts, and the insatiable cupidity of Eng- 
 land. He could hardly have said more, if an English 
 King had, in time of peace, entrapped, under pretext of friend- 
 ship, a King of Spain, and sent an army to place his own 
 brother on the throne : or if he had kidnapped a multitude of 
 harmless non-belligerent French travellers who had entered his 
 territory in time of peace. And if this had been done, the 
 English King would not have found so many admirers and 
 sympathizers in France, as Napoleon found in England. 
 
 The chief cause, probably, of the injustice done to our national 
 character, is, the freedom of the Press, and of speech, beyond 
 what exists in most other Countries, and of which our political 
 partisans so largely avail themselves, in the use [of such 
 language respecting their opponents as would hardly be tole-
 
 Essay xxix.] Annotations. 235 
 
 rated elsewhere. Whatever political Party may chance to 
 be in power, some members of the Opposition generally 
 represent the Ministry as a set of the most unprincipled 
 statesmen that ever existed. Now on the Continent the 
 English Government, that is, the Ministry for the time-being, 
 is considered as the Nation. And those who are predis- 
 posed, through envy, to think ill of the English Nation, have 
 only to adopt the representations which Englishmen themselves 
 that is, those in Opposition give of the existing Government. 
 
 1 Howsoever if be for happiness, without all question, for great- 
 ness, it maketh to be still for the most part in arms. 3 
 
 It is consolatory to think that no one would now venture to 
 write, as Bacon does, about wars of aggrandizement. But it 
 was the doctrine of his day ; and of times not only much earlier, 
 but also much later than his ; for the same sentiments are to be 
 found in authors near two centuries after Bacon. Indeed 
 we read in a Work of the present Generation, that 'War 
 is the condition of this World. From Man to the smallest 
 insect all are at strife ; and the glory of arms, which cannot be 
 obtained without the exercise of honour, fortitude, courage, 
 obedience, modesty and temperance, 1 excites the brave man's 
 patriotism, and is a chastening corrective for the rich man's 
 pride/ But probably no non-military Writer, and very few, even 
 of the Military, would now speak in such a tone. 
 
 True it is, Men are still bad enough in practice ; but the theory 
 must come first ; and we may hope the practice will follow in 
 time. It is certain that the folly as well as the wickedness of 
 wars of aggrandizement is much better understood, and more 
 freely acknowledged, than even fifty years back. And to the 
 shame of Christians, it must be admitted that the more correct 
 discernment of the costliness and consequent inexpediency of even 
 a successful war of conquest which are every day becoming 
 better understood operates more in making men pause before 
 they enter into a war, than motives of humanity. 
 
 1 It is remarkable that the same author has, in the very same Work, cited pas- 
 sages from letters of Sir Arthur Wellesley (afterwards Duke of Wellington), dated 
 in May, 1809, complaining of the Army as ' a rabble who cannot bear success or 
 failure ; behaving terribly ill ; and plundering the country most terribly.'
 
 Of Me True Greatness of Kingdoms, c. [Essay xxix. 
 
 The much agitated questions as to the allowableness of defen- 
 sive war, need not be here discussed. The reader is referred to 
 the Lessons on Morals (L. 14, 5), where it is pointed out 
 that those who hold the principle of complete non-resistance, 
 cannot consistently resort to the law to enforce payment of a 
 debt, or to obtain protection of any kind ; since it is manifest 
 that the law rests ultimately on the appeal to physical force. 
 
 As to the general question concerning the right of self- 
 defence, it would evidently become a merely speculative one, 
 and not at all practical, if all States, and all individuals, would 
 abstain from aggression ; since, then there would be no outrages 
 to repel. But as it is, every State, and every individual, that 
 does abstain from all aggression, is so much gained to the cause 
 of humanity. 
 
 If, however, the principle of non-resistance were adopted by 
 some States, and not by all, this would give up the peaceable 
 to be subjugated by an ambitious and unscrupulous neighbour. 
 And, moreover, they would not even enjoy peace after all. For, 
 the conqueror would doubtless seek to recruit his armies for 
 fresh conquests, from the subjugated nations. And though the 
 adults might steadily refuse to fight for him, and prefer torture 
 or death, he would probably take the finest of their male 
 children to be trained in military seminaries ; as was formerly 
 done by the Turks to their Christian subjects ; whose children 
 formed the original corps of Janissaries : so that the non-resist- 
 ing people would have to see two or three hundred thousand 
 of their finest youths serving in the wars of an ambitious con- 
 queror. 
 
 It is important however to observe that whatever can be urged 
 in vindication of bearing arms, is applicable only to the case of 
 a man serving his own country ; not, of one who enlists in a 
 foreign army; however just for them may be the war they 
 are engaged in. This practice, though countenanced, unhappily, 
 by some persons who are accounted respectable, is surely quite 
 unjustifiable on Christian principles. If one who has delibe- 
 rately gone about to take the lives of men with whom his 
 country was not at war, should be tried as there seems good 
 reason he should be, for MURDER, he could not fairly plead 
 the sanction or command of foreign rulers, who had no 
 right over him, and under whom he has placed himself by
 
 Essay xxix.] Annotations. 337 
 
 his own voluntary act, for the express purpose of fighting their 
 battles. Any one indeed who settles in a foreign country, and 
 becomes a citizen of it, has the rights and the duties of a born- 
 citizen : but not so, one who enlists as a soldier, in foreign 
 service. 
 
 What used to mislead men, and still misleads not a few, as 
 to the costliness of war, and the check it gives to national 
 prosperity is, that they see the expenditure go to our own 
 fellow-subjects. We pay a great deal, it is true, out of the 
 public purse, to soldiers ; but then it is our soldiers, the Queen's 
 subjects, that get it. Powder, and guns, and ships of war, cost 
 a great deal ; but this cost is a gain to the manufacturers of 
 powder and guns, &c. And thus people brought themselves to 
 fancy that the country altogether did not sustain any loss at 
 all. This very doctrine is distinctly maintained by Coleridge, in 
 his periodical, The Friend, within the present century. He cen- 
 sures very strongly some who had bewailed a ' few millions' of 
 war-expenditure, and who had pointed out how many roads 
 might have been made, and fens drained, and other beneficial 
 works accomplished with this money. Coleridge contends 
 against this that the country had not lost it at all, since it was 
 all spent on our own people ; and he parallels it with such cases 
 as that of a man losing money at cards to his own wife, or 
 transferring it from one pocket to another. He was extremely 
 fond of discussing what are really questions of political economy 
 (though the name of it he disliked), and in which he almost 
 always went wrong. 
 
 Of course, if a heavy expenditure is incurred in armaments, 
 when necessary for the defence of our just rights, this is not to 
 be accounted a waste, any more than the cost of bolts and locks 
 to keep out thieves. But the argument of Coleridge does not 
 at all look to any such necessity, but would equally hold good 
 if the money had been expended in gunpowder to be exploded 
 in fire- works, or in paying soldiers for amusing us with sham 
 fights, or for playing cricket. For, in that case also, the ex- 
 penditure would have gone to our own people equally. 
 
 The fallacy consists in not perceiving that, though the labour 
 of the gunpowder-makers, soldiers, &c., is not unproductive to 
 them, inasmuch as they are paid for it, it is unproductive to us, 
 
 z
 
 338 Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms, fyc. [Essay xxix. 
 
 as it leaves no valuable results. If gunpowder is employed in 
 blasting rocks, so as to open a rich vein of ore or coal, or to 
 make a useful road, the manufacturer gets his payment for it 
 just the same as if it had been made into fire-works ; but then, 
 the mine, or the road, will remain as an article of wealth to 
 him who has so employed it. After having paid for the powder, 
 he will still be richer than he was before ; whereas, if he had 
 employed it for fire-works, he would have been so much the 
 poorer, since it would have left no results. 
 
 When, however, war-expenditure does result in the conquest 
 of some territory, and this territory brings in some tribute, or 
 other profit beyond the cost of conquering it and keeping it in 
 subjection which is not often the case, then, it must be 
 admitted waiving all considerations of justice and humanity 
 that something has been gained. But the revenue thus wrested 
 from a subjugated country must evidently impoverish the one 
 party as much (at least) as it enriches the other. The people 
 of the conquered territory have to pay for being ill-governed ; 
 and their increase in prosperity is checked; while the greater 
 part of what is taken from them goes to pay the garrisons that 
 keep them in submission. 
 
 On the other hand, the revenue derived from other lands by 
 commerce, enriches both parties ; since the exchange of a cargo 
 of hardware, for instance, for a cargo of silks, implies that the 
 one who parts with the silk for the hardware, finds the latter 
 the more valuable to him ; and vice versa. And thus both 
 advance in prosperity. 
 
 From all the extensive provinces which the Romans held 
 under their sway, the English, without holding them in subjec- 
 tion at all, derive many times the revenue that the Romans 
 did ; since our commerce with them has caused them to advance 
 and to go on still advancing in prosperity. 
 
 If the Czar had spent half what he has spent in encroaching 
 on his neighbours, in making roads, and draining marshes, and 
 in other ways improving his own soil, he would have had much 
 more of the true ' greatness of empire/ and a greatness far less 
 likely to be overthrown by other States. For, as a general 
 rule, States are not exempt from the influences of the same 
 causes which, in the affairs of individuals, produce good or bad 
 success. That the general tendency of each particular virtue
 
 Essay xxix.] Annotations. 239 
 
 and vice in individuals is, to produce corresponding worldly 
 advantages and disadvantages, is a doctrine which, in a specu- 
 lative point of view at least, few would be disposed to contro- 
 vert. And though this general rule admits of such numerous 
 exceptions, that a right-minded and considerate man would not 
 venture, in the case of any individual, to infer that his success 
 in life had precisely corresponded with his deserts, or decidedly 
 to promise, for example, prosperity to the honest, frugal, and 
 industrious, and denounce certain ruin to the profligate ; yet he 
 would not feel the less convinced of the certainty of the general 
 rule, that such conduct will, for the most part, be attended 
 with such consequences. Thus, though we are not to believe 
 that regular temporal rewards and punishments are dispensed 
 under the moral government of God to nations, yet the general 
 rule by which temperance, and integrity, and industry tend, in 
 private life, to promote each man's health, and reputation, and 
 prosperity, is applicable to nations also. Unprincipled aggres- 
 sion will usually provoke, sooner or later, a formidable retalia- 
 tion ; and, on the other hand, moderation and good faith have 
 manifestly a general tendency to promote peace and internal 
 prosperity. * 
 
 And thus it is that religion, which produces these fruits of 
 moderation and good faith, has an indirect, as well as a direct, 
 influence on national character. Its direct effects few will be 
 disposed to deny, even of those who believe in no religion ; since, 
 of several different forms of superstitious error, supposing all 
 religions to be such, one may at least be more compatible with 
 moral improvement than another. But it has an indirect effect 
 also, through its influence on national prosperity. To take, for 
 instance, the point of which we have just been speaking : War, 
 the direct demoralizing effects of which are probably still greater 
 than its impoverishing effect, would be wholly unknown, if 
 Christianity were heartily and generally embraced ; and, even 
 as it is, it has been much mitigated by that humanizing influ- 
 ence. Slavery, too, equally demoralizing and impoverishing, 
 would cease ; and if both Slavery and War were at an end, 
 the wealth of nations would increase, but their civilization in 
 the most important points, would increase in a still greater ratio. 
 
 1 See Lectures on Political Economy. 
 Z 3
 
 34 Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms, fyc. [Essay x.vix. 
 
 That this progressive civilization, this advancement of man- 
 kind, not merely as individuals, but as communities, is the 
 design of the Almighty Creator, seems evident from the provi- 
 sion made by his divine Wisdom for the progress of Society. 
 This provision is, I think, manifest in many portions of Man's 
 conduct as a member of society, in which is to be traced the 
 operation of impulses which, while tending immediately to some 
 certain end contemplated by the agent, and therefore rational, 
 may yet, as far as respects another and quite different end which 
 he did not contemplate, be referred to a kind of instinct, or 
 something analogous to instinct. He is led, while doing one 
 thing, by choice, for his own benefit, to do another, undesigncdly, 
 under the guidance of Providence, for the service of the 
 community. 
 
 But there is no case in which this providential guidance 
 is more liable to be overlooked no case in which we are more 
 apt to mistake for the wisdom of Man what is, in truth, the 
 wisdom of God. 
 
 In the results of instinct in brutes, we are sure, not only 
 that, although the animals themselves are, in some sort, agents, 
 they could not originally have designed the effects they pro- 
 duce, but that even afterwards, they have no notion of the 
 combination by which these are brought about. But when 
 human conduct tends to some desirable end, and the agents are 
 competent to perceive that the end is desirable, and the means 
 well adapted to it, they are apt to forget that, in the great 
 majority of instances, those means were not devised, nor those 
 ends proposed, by the persons themselves who are thus em- 
 ployed. The workman, for instance, who is employed in casting 
 printing-types, is usually thinking only of producing a commodity 
 by the sale of which he may support himself. With reference 
 to this object, he is acting, not from any impulse that is at all 
 of the character of instinct, but from a rational and deliberate 
 choice : but he is also, in the very same act, contributing most 
 powerfully to the diffusion of knowledge ; about which, perhaps, 
 he has no anxiety or thought : in reference to this latter object, 
 therefore, his procedure corresponds to those operations of 
 various animals which we attribute to instinct ; since they, 
 doubtless, derive some immediate gratification from what they 
 are doing. Indeed, in all departments connected with the
 
 Essay xxix.] Annotations. 34 1 
 
 acquisition and communication of knowledge, a similar procedure 
 may be traced. The greater part of it is the gift, not of human, 
 but of divine benevolence, which has implanted in Man a thirst 
 after knowledge for its own sake, accompanied with a sort of 
 instinctive desire, founded probably on sympathy, of communi- 
 cating it to others, as an ultimate end. This, and also the love 
 of display, are no doubt inferior motives, and will be superseded 
 by a higher principle, in proportion as the individual advances 
 in moral excellence. These motives constitute, as it were, a 
 kind of scaffolding, which should be taken down by little and 
 little, as the perfect building advances, but which is of indis- 
 pensable use till that is completed. 
 
 It is to be feared, indeed, that Society would fare but ill if 
 none did service to the Public, except in proportion as they 
 possessed the rare moral and intellectual endowment of an 
 enlightened public spirit. For, such a spirit, whether in the 
 form of patriotism, or that of philanthropy, implies not merely 
 benevolent feelings stronger than, in fact, we commonly meet 
 with, but also powers of abstraction beyond what the mass of 
 mankind can possess. As it is, many of the most important 
 objects are accomplished by unconscious co-operation ; and that, 
 with a certainty, completeness, and regularity, which probably 
 the most diligent benevolence, under the guidance of the greatest 
 human wisdom, could never have attained. 
 
 For instance, let any one propose to himself the problem of 
 supplying with daily provisions the inhabitants of such a city 
 as London that ' province covered with houses. 5 Let any one 
 consider this problem in all its bearings, reflecting on the enor- 
 mous and fluctuating number of persons to be fed, the im- 
 mense quantity of the provisions to be furnished, and the 
 variety of the supply (not, as for an army or garrison, 
 nearly uniform) the importance of a convenient distribu- 
 tion of them, and the necessity of husbanding them discreetly, 
 lest a deficient supply, even for a single day, should produce 
 distress, or a redundancy produce (from the perishable nature of 
 many of them) a corresponding waste ; and then let him reflect 
 on the anxious toil which such a task would impose on a Board 
 of the most experienced and intelligent commissaries ; who, after 
 all, would be able to discharge their office but very inadequately. 
 Yet this object is accomplished far better than it could be by any
 
 342 Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms, c. [Essay xxix. 
 
 effort of human wisdom, through the agency of men who think 
 each of nothing beyond his own immediate interest who are 
 merely occupied in gaining a fair livelihood ; and, with this end 
 in view, without any comprehensive wisdom, or any need of 
 it, they co-operate, unknowingly, in conducting a system which, 
 we may safely say, no human wisdom directed to that end 
 could have conducted so well the system by which this 
 enormous population is fed from day to day and combine 
 unconsciously to employ the wisest means for effecting an 
 object, the vastness of which it would bewilder them even to 
 contemplate. 
 
 I have said, ' no human wisdom ;' for wisdom there surely is 
 in this adaptation of the means to the result actually produced. 
 And admirable as are the marks of contrivance and design in 
 the anatomical structure of the human body, and in the instincts 
 of the brute-creation, I know not whether it does not even 
 still more excite our admiration of the beneficent wisdom of 
 Providence, to contemplate, not corporeal particles, but rational, 
 free agents, co-operating in systems no less manifestly indi- 
 cating design, yet no design of theirs ; and though acted on, not 
 by gravitation and impulse, like inert matter, but by motives 
 addressed to the will, yet advancing as regularly, and as effec- 
 tually, the accomplishment of an object they never contemplated, 
 as if they were the mere passive wheels of a machine. If one 
 may, without presumption, speak of a more or less in reference 
 to the works of Infinite Wisdom, I would say, that the branch 
 of Natural Theology with which we are now concerned, presents 
 to the reflective mind views even more striking than any other. 
 The heavens do indeed ' declare the glory of God / and the 
 human body is ' fearfully and wonderfully made / but Man, 
 considered not merely as an organized Being, but as a rational 
 agent, and as a member of society, is perhaps the most won- 
 derfully contrived, and to us the most interesting, specimen of 
 divine Wisdom that we have any knowledge of. IIoXAa rd 
 Suva, K ovStv avOpuTrov Stivortpov irtXei. 
 
 Now, it seems to me that, to this proof, that it is the design 
 of Almighty Providence that mankind should advance in civili- 
 zation, may be added one drawn from the fact that, in proportion 
 as the religion of the Bible is embraced, and men become 
 subjects to the revealed law of God, civilization progresses.
 
 Essay xxix.] Annotations. 343 
 
 'And here I would remark, that I do not profess to explain 
 why, in so many particular instances, causes have been permitted 
 to operate, more or less, towards the frustration of this general 
 design, and the retardation, or even reversal, of the course of 
 improvement. The difficulty, in fact, is one which belongs, not 
 to this alone, but to every branch of Natural Theology. In 
 every part of the universe we see marks of wise and benevolent 
 design ; and yet we see, in many instances, apparent frustrations 
 of this design ; we see the productiveness of the earth inter- 
 rupted by unfavourable seasons the structure of the animal- 
 frame enfeebled, and its functions impaired, by disease and 
 vast multitudes of living Beings exposed, from various causes, 
 to suffering, and to premature destruction. In the moral and 
 political world, wars, and civil dissension tyrannical govern- 
 ments, unwise laws, and all evils of this class, correspond to 
 the inundations the droughts the tornados, and the earth- 
 quakes, of the natural world. We cannot give a satisfactory 
 account of either ; we cannot, in short, explain the great diffi- 
 culty, which, in proportion as we reflect attentively, we shall 
 more and more perceive to be the only difficulty in theology, 
 the existence of evil in the Universe. 
 
 Yet many, in almost every past age (and so it will be, I 
 suppose, in all future ages), have shown a tendency towards 
 such presumption as that of our first Parents, in seeking to 
 pass the limits appointed for the human faculties, and to e be 
 
 as Gods, KNOWING GOOD AND EVIL/ 
 
 ' But two things we can accomplish ; which are very impor- 
 tant, and which are probably all that our present faculties and 
 extent of knowledge can attain to. One is, to perceive clearly 
 that the difficulty in question is of no unequal pressure, but 
 bears equally heavy on Deism and on Christianity, and on the 
 various different interpretations of the Christian scheme; and 
 consequently can furnish no valid objection to any one scheme 
 of religion in particular. Even atheism does not lessen our 
 difficulty; it only alters the character of it. For as the believer 
 in a God is at a loss to account for the existence of evil, the 
 believer in no God is equally unable to account for the exis- 
 tence of good ; or indeed of anything at all that bears marks 
 of design. 
 
 ' Another point which is attainable is, to perceive, amidst all
 
 344 Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms, fyc. [Essay xxix. 
 
 the admixture of evil, and all the seeming disorder of con- 
 flicting agencies, a general tendency nevertheless towards the 
 accomplishment of wise and beneficent designs. 
 
 ' As in contemplating an ebbing tide, we are sometimes in 
 doubt, on a short inspection, whether the sea is really receding, 
 because, from time to time, a wave will dash further up the 
 shore than those which had preceded it, but, if we continue our 
 observation long enough, we see plainly that the boundary of 
 the land is on the whole advancing ; so here, by extending our 
 view over many Countries and through several Ages, we may 
 distinctly perceive the tendencies which would have escaped a 
 more confined research/
 
 ESSAY XXX. OF REGIMEN OF HEALTH. 
 
 THERE is a wisdom in this beyond the rules of physic : a 
 man's own observation, what he finds good of, 1 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, f l find no offence 2 
 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 enforce 
 it, fit the rest to it ; for it is a secret, both in nature and state, 
 that it is safer to change many things than one. Examine thy 
 customs of diet, sleep, exercise, apparel, and the like, and try, 
 in anything thou shalt judge hurtful, to discontinue it by little 
 and little ; but so as 3 if thou dost find any inconvenience by 
 the change, thou come back to it again ; for it is hard to dis- 
 tinguish 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 4 
 and sleep, and of exercise, is one of the best precepts of long 
 lasting. As for the passions and studies of the mind, avoid 
 envy, anxious fears, anger, fretting inwards, subtle and knotty 
 inquisitions, joys and exhilarations in excess, sadness not com- 
 municated. 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 
 
 1 Of. From. See page 286. 
 
 2 Offence. Hwrt ; damage. (Now seldom applied to physical injury.) ' The 
 pains of the touch are greater than the offences of other senses.' Bacon. 
 
 ' To do offence and scath in Christendom.' Shakespere. 
 
 3 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 4 Meat. Food; meals. 
 
 ' As he sat at his meat, the music played sweet.' Old Ballad.
 
 Of Regimen of Health. [Essay xxx. 
 
 too familiar, it will work no extraordinary effect when sickness 
 cometh. I commend 1 rather some diet for certain seasons, 
 than frequent use of physic, except it be grown into a custom ; 
 for those diets alter the body more, and trouble it less. Despise 
 no new accident in your body, but ask opinion of it. In sick- 
 ness, respect 2 health principally, and in health, action ; for those 
 that put their bodies to endure in health, may in most sick- 
 nesses 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 exer- 
 cise, 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 humour of the pa- 
 tient, as 3 they press not the true cure of the disease ; and some 
 others 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 4 sort ; and forget not 
 to call as well the best acquainted with your body, as the best 
 reputed of for his faculty. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 'To be free-minded and cheerfully-disposed, at hours of 
 meat is one of the best precepts.' 
 
 Hence, if there is any particular diet which is found neces- 
 sary to one's health, it is best to make arrangements accordingly, 
 
 1 Commend. To recommend. ' I commend unto you Phoebe, our sister.' 
 Romans xvi. i. 
 
 2 Respect. Save regard to. ' In judgment seats, not man's qualities, but 
 causes only ought to be respected.' Kettleworth. 
 
 3 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 4 Either. Each. ' On either side of the river.' Rev. xxii. 2.
 
 Essay xxx.] Annotations. 347 
 
 once for all ; and not to be anxiously thinking at each meal 
 what will agree or disagree. 
 
 A late eminent practitioner made his dyspeptic patients weigh 
 out so many ounces of each kind of food, at each meal. He 
 could not have taken a more effectual mode of impeding good 
 digestion, than by making them thus ' eat bread by weight, 
 and with trembling, and drink water by measure, and with 
 astonishment/ 
 
 It is remarkable that Bacon should have said nothing in this 
 Essay, of early and late hours ; though it is a generally received 
 opinion that early hours are conducive to longevity. There is 
 a proverb that 
 
 ' Early to bed, and early to rise, 
 Makes a man healthy, and wealthy, and wise.' 
 
 And this is the more remarkable as being the proverb of a na- 
 tion whose hours are the latest of any. 
 
 It is reported of some judge, that whenever a witness came 
 before him of extraordinary age (as is often the case when evi- 
 dence is required relative to some remote period) he always 
 inquired into the man's habits of life ; and it is said that he 
 found the greatest differences between them (some temperate, 
 and others free-livers ; some active, and some sedentary), except 
 in the one point that they were all early risers. 
 
 On the connexion between early hours and longevity, the 
 late Mr. Davison wittily remarked that this may be the mean- 
 ing of the fabled marriage of Tithonus and Aurora. ' Longa 
 Tithonum minuit senectus/ 
 
 Some have said, that this matter admits of easy expla- 
 nation : ' as men grow old they find themselves tired early 
 in the evening, and accordingly retire to rest; and hence, 
 in the morning they find themselves wakeful, and rise/ 
 Now, if it be stated as an ultimate fact, not to be ac- 
 counted for, that those who have kept late hours in their youth, 
 adopt, from inclination, early hours as they grow old, then, this 
 statement, whether true or false (and it is one which would not be 
 generally admitted), is at least intelligible. But if it be offered 
 as an explanation, it seems like saying that the earth stands on 
 an elephant, and the elephant on a tortoise, and the tortoise 
 again, on the earth. An old man rises early because he had
 
 348 Of Regimen of Health. [Essay xxx. 
 
 gone to bed early: and he goes to bed early, because he had 
 risen early ! 
 
 Some, when dissuading you from going to bed late, will urge 
 that it is bad to have too little sleep; and when advising you 
 not to lie a-bed late, will urge that it is bad to have too much 
 sleep ; not considering that early or late hours, if they do but 
 correspond with themselves, as to the times of retiring and 
 rising, have nothing to do with the quantity of sleep. For if 
 one man goes to bed at ten, and rises at six, and another goes 
 to bed at two in the morning, and rises at ten, each has the 
 same number of hours in bed. If the one of these is (as is 
 generally believed) more healthful than the other, it must be 
 from some different cause. 
 
 If the prevailing belief be correct, it would seem that there 
 must be some mysterious connexion between the human frame, 
 and the earth's rotation. And this is further indicated by that 
 instinctive perception which most people have, in certain cases, 
 of the rest-time. It is well known that any one who has been 
 long accustomed to rise at a certain hour, will usually wake at 
 that hour, whatever may have been the time of his going to 
 bed. It might have been expected that one who had been used 
 to a certain number of hours' sleep, would, if on some occasion 
 he retired to rest an hour or two earlier, or later, than usual, 
 wake so much the earlier, or the later, when he had had the 
 accustomed time of sleep. But the fact is generally otherwise. 
 He will be likely to wake neither before nor after the accus- 
 tomed hour. 
 
 This, again, may be relied on as a fact : a student at one of 
 the universities, finding that his health was suffering from hard 
 study and late hours, took to rising at five and going to bed at 
 ten, all the year round ; and found his health though he read 
 as hard as ever manifestly improved. But he found himself 
 unable to compose anything in the morning, though he could 
 take in the sense of an author equally well. And having to 
 write for a prize, he could not get his thoughts to flow till just 
 about his usual bedtime. Thinking that this might have some- 
 thing to do with the digestion, he took to dining two hours 
 earlier, in the hopes that then eight o'clock would be to him 
 the same as ten. But it made no difference. And after per- 
 severing in vain attempts for some time, he altered his hours,
 
 Essay xxx.] Annotations. 349 
 
 and for one week, till he had finished his essay, sat up and 
 wrote at night, and lay a-bed in the morning. He could revise 
 and correct in the day-time what he had written; but could 
 not compose except at night. When his essay was finished, he 
 returned to his early habits. 
 
 Now this is a decisive answer to those who say ' it is all 
 custom ; you write better at night, because that is the time you 
 have been accustomed to employ for study/ for here, the 
 custom was just the reverse. And equally vain is the explana- 
 tion, that 'the night hours are quiet, and you are sure of 
 having no interruption.' For this student was sure of being 
 quite free from interruption from five o'clock till chapel-time 
 at eight. And the streets were much more still then than at 
 midnight. And again : any explanation connected with day- 
 light breaks down equally. For, as far as that is concerned, in 
 the winter-time it makes no difference whether you have three 
 hours more candle-light in the earlier part of the night, or before 
 sunrise. 
 
 There is a something that remains to be explained, and it is 
 better to confess ignorance than to offer an explanation that 
 explains nothing. 
 
 One other circumstance connected with hours has not been 
 hitherto accounted for namely, the sudden cold which comes 
 on just at the first peep of dawn. Some say the earth is gra- 
 dually cooling after the sun has set ; and consequently the cold 
 must have reached its height just before the return of the sun. 
 This theory sounds plausible to those who have had little or 
 no personal experience of daybreak ; but it does not agree with 
 the fact. The cold does not gradually increase during the 
 night; but the temperature grows alternately warmer and 
 colder, according as the sky is clouded or clear. And all who 
 have been accustomed to night-travelling must have often ex- 
 perienced many such alternations in a single night. And they 
 also find that the cold at day-break comes on very suddenly : so 
 much so, that in spring and autumn it often happens that it 
 catches the earth-worms, which on mild nights lie out of their 
 holes : and you may often see a whole grass-plat strewed with 
 their frozen bodies in a frosty morning. If the cold had not 
 come on very suddenly, they would have had time to withdraw 
 into their holes.
 
 350 Of Regimen of Health. [Essay xxx. 
 
 And any one who is accustomed to go out before daylight 
 will often, in the winter, find the roads full of liquid mud half- 
 an-hour before dawn, and by sunrise as hard as a rock. Then 
 those who had been in bed will often observe that ' it was a 
 hard frost last night/ when in truth there had been no frost at 
 all till day-break. 
 
 Who can explain all these phenomena? The subject is so 
 curious, that the digression into which it has led, will, I trust, 
 be pardoned. 
 
 ' As for the passions and studies of the mind, avoid . . . ' 
 
 Of persons who have led a temperate life, those will have the 
 best chance of longevity who have done hardly anything else 
 but live; what may be called the neuter verbs not active or 
 passive, but only being: who have had little to do, little to 
 suffer ; but have led a life of quiet retirement, without exertion 
 of body or mind, avoiding all troublesome enterprise, and 
 seeking only a comfortable obscurity. Such men, if of a pretty 
 strong constitution, and if they escape any remarkable cala- 
 mities, are likely to live long. But much affliction, or much 
 exertion, and, still more, both combined, will be sure to tell 
 upon the constitution if not at once, yet at least, as years ad- 
 vance. One who is of the character of an active or passive 
 verb, or, still more, both combined, though he may be said to 
 have lived long in everything but years, will rarely reach the 
 age of the neuters.
 
 ESSAY XXXI. OF SUSPICION. 
 
 CUSPICIONS amongst thoughts are like bats amongst birds, 
 ^ they ever fly by twilight. Certainly they are to be repressed, 
 or, at the least, well guarded, for they cloud the mind, they 
 lose friends, and they check with 1 business, whereby business 
 cannot go on currently 2 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 VII. 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. 4 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 5 to clear the way in this same wood of 
 suspicion, is frankly to communicate them with 6 the party that 
 
 1 Check with. Interfere with. See page in. 
 
 s Currently. With continued progression. 'Time, as it currently goes on, 
 establishes a custom.' Hayward. 
 
 3 Composition. Temperament. 'A very proud or a very suspicious temper, 
 falseness, or sensuality .... these are the ingredients in the composition of that 
 man whom we call a scorner.' Atterbwry. 
 
 4 Smother. A state of being stifled. See page 303. 
 
 5 Mean. Means. See page 213. 
 
 6 Communicate with. Impart to. See page 302.
 
 Of Suspicion. [Essay xxxi. 
 
 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 1 not be done to men of base natures, for they, 
 if they find themselves once suspected, will never be true. 
 The Italian says, ' Sospetto licencia fede/ 2 as if suspicion did 
 give a passport to faith ; but it ought rather to kindle it to 
 discharge itself. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON SUSPICION. 
 
 PRO. CONTBA. 
 
 ***** ' Suspicio fidem absolvit. 
 
 ' Merito ejus fides suspecta est, quam ' He who is suspected is not on his 
 guspicio labefacit. honour' 
 
 ' The fidelity which suspicion over- 
 throws, deserves to le suspected.' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' Suspicions amongst thoughts are like bats amongst birds, 
 they ever fly by twilight.' 
 
 As there are dim-sighted persons, who live in a sort of per- 
 petual twilight, so there are some who, having neither much 
 clearness of head, nor a very elevated tone of morality, are 
 perpetually haunted by suspicions of everybody and everything. 
 Such a man attributes judging in great measure from himself 
 interested and selfish motives to every one. Accordingly, 
 having no great confidence in his own penetration, he gives no 
 one credit for an open and straightforward character, and will 
 always suspect some underhand dealings in every one, even 
 when he is unable to perceive any motive for such conduct, and 
 when the character of the party affords no ground for suspi- 
 cion. ( ( Ill-doers are ill-deemers/ 3 ) One, on the contrary, who 
 has a fair share of intelligence, and is himself thoroughly up- 
 
 1 Would. Should. ' As for percolation, which belongeth to separation, trial 
 would be made by clarifying, by a clarion of milk put into warm beer.' Bacon's 
 Nat. History. 
 
 2 ' Suspicion releases faith.' * See Proverbs for Copy-lines.
 
 Essay xxxi.] Annotations. 353 
 
 right, will be comparatively exempt from this torment. He 
 knows, from consciousness, that there is one honest man in 
 the world ; and he will consider it very improbable that there 
 should be but one. He will therefore look carefully to the 
 general character and conduct of those he has to deal with ; 
 suspecting those and those only who have given some indi- 
 cations of a want of openness and sincerity, trusting those 
 who have given proof of an opposite character, and keeping his 
 judgment suspended as to those of whom he has not sufficient 
 knowledge. 
 
 Such a man has (as was observed in the note on the Essay 
 on ( Cunning') a better knowledge of human nature than another 
 just equal to him in experience and sagacity, whose tone of 
 morality is low. For he knows that there are knaves in the 
 world ; and he knows also that there are honest men ; while 
 the other can hardly be brought to believe in the existence of 
 thorough-going honesty. 
 
 And the frank and simple-hearted will deal better, on the 
 whole, than the suspicious, even with those who are not of the 
 very highest moral character. For these, if they find that they 
 have credit for speaking truth, when there is no good ground 
 for suspecting the contrary, and that insidious designs are not 
 imputed to them without reason, will feel that they have a 
 character to keep up or to lose : and will be, as it were, put 
 upon their honour. But these same persons, perhaps, if they 
 find themselves always suspected, will feel like the foxes in 
 one of Gay's fables, who, finding that they had an incurably 
 bad name for stealing poultry, thought that they might as well 
 go on with the practice, which would, at any rate, be imputed 
 to them. 
 
 A <lean of a college, at one of our universities, told an under- 
 graduate, who was startled and shocked at finding his word 
 doubted, that he could not trust the young men for speaking 
 truth, for that they regarded a lie to the dean as no lie. And, pro- 
 bably, this was really the case with the majority of them. For 
 when they found that a man's word was not believed by him, 
 they had no scruple about saying to him what was untrue ; on 
 the ground that where no confidence was reposed, none could be 
 violated. And these same men, when the office of dean was 
 held by another Fellow, of opposite character, who put them on 
 
 A A
 
 354 Of Suspicion. [Essay xxxi. 
 
 their honour, never thought (except a very few utterly worthless 
 ones) of telling a falsehood to him. 
 
 A person who once held offices of high importance, and of 
 vast difficulty and delicacy, was enabled to say, after more 
 than thirty years' experience, that though he had been obliged 
 to employ many persons in confidential services, and to im- 
 part to them some most momentous secrets, he had never once 
 had his confidence betrayed. No one of them ever let out an 
 important secret confided to him, or in any way betrayed the 
 trust reposed in him. Of course, this person did not trust 
 indiscriminately ; nor did he trust all to an equal extent. And 
 he occasionally found men turn out worse than he had hoped : 
 and often had plots and cabals formed against him, and had 
 lies told to him. But he never was, properly speaking, be- 
 trayed. He always went on the principle of believing that 
 some men are thoroughly honest, and some utterly dishonest, 
 and some intermediate ; and thoroughly trusting, or thoroughly 
 distrusting, where he saw good reasons for doing so ; and sus- 
 pending his judgment respecting the rest : not putting himself 
 in their power yet not making them objects of suspicion with- 
 out cause, but letting them see that he hoped well of them, 
 and considered the presumption to be on the side of innocence 
 till guilt is proved. 
 
 A man of an opposite character, who was long in a very high 
 and important position, afforded matter for doubt and discussion 
 among those who knew him, as to the opinion he entertained of 
 mankind. Some thought that he had a very good, and some a 
 very mean, estimate of men in general. And each were, in a 
 certain sense, right. He seems to have regarded all men as 
 being what a person of truly elevated moral character would 
 have called base and contemptible ; but he did not feel any 
 such disapprobation or contempt for them, because he had no 
 notion of anything better. He was a very good-humoured man, 
 and far from a misanthrope ; and he could no more be said to 
 dislike or despise men for being nothing superior to what he 
 thought them to be, than we should be said to despise horses 
 or dogs for being no more than brutes. He may be said, 
 therefore, to have thought very favourably of mankind, as think- 
 ing most men to be as virtuous as any man need be, or could 
 be and as doing nothing that he, or any one, need be ashamed
 
 Essay xxxi.] Annotations. 
 
 355 
 
 of. And again, he may be said to have thought very wrafavour- 
 ably of mankind, inasmuch as he had no notion at all of a 
 character of exalted virtue, and regarded any indication of pure 
 and high principle as affectation and humbug, and always sus- 
 pected every one of acting for such ends, and employing such 
 means, as a really high-minded man would reject with disdain. 
 
 Yet he was a very intelligent and acute man as far as regards 
 the lower parts of human nature. His constant suspicion of 
 inferior motives and underhand proceeding, arose from the moral 
 twilight of his mind. 
 
 In reference to such suspicions as relate rather to things than 
 persons the doubts which sometimes nutter about in the occa- 
 sional twilight of the mind, respecting the evidence for important 
 and well-established conclusions, I will take the liberty of ex- 
 tracting some admirable passages from the Edinburgh Review 
 for January, 1847, on ' The Genius of Pascal': 
 
 ' Neither has the understanding the absolute dominion in the 
 formation of our judgments, nor does she occupy an ' unshaken 
 throne/ A seditious rabble of doubts, from time to time, rise 
 to dispute her empire. Even where the mind, in its habitual 
 states, is unconscious of any remaining doubt, where it reposes 
 in a vast preponderance of evidence in favour of this or that con- 
 clusion, there may yet be, from one or other of the disturbing 
 causes adverted to, a momentary eclipse of that light in which 
 the soul seemed to dwell ; a momentary vibration of that judg- 
 ment which we so often nattered ourselves was poised for ever. 
 Yet this no more argues the want of habitual faith than the 
 variations of the compass argue the severance of the connexion 
 between the magnet and the pole ; or, than the oscilla- 
 tions of the l rocking stone 3 argue that the solid mass can be 
 heaved from its bed. A child may shake, but a giant cannot 
 overturn it. 
 
 ' And, as a matter of fact, there are, we apprehend, very few 
 who have not been conscious of sudden and almost unaccountable 
 disturbances of the intellectual atmosphere, unaccountable even 
 after the equilibrium has been restored, and the air has again 
 become serene and tranquil. In these momentary fluctuations, 
 whether arising from moral or physical causes, or from causes of 
 both kinds from nervous depression, or a fit of melancholy, or 
 
 A A 2
 
 356 Of Suspicion. [Essay xxxi. 
 
 an attack of pain, or harassing anxieties, or tlie loss of friends, 
 or their misfortunes and calamities, or signal triumphs of base- 
 ness, or signal discomfitures of virtue, or, above all, from con- 
 scious neglect of duty a man shall sometimes feel as if he had 
 lost sight even of those primal truths on which he has been 
 accustomed to gaze as on the stars of the firmament bright, 
 serene, and unchangeable; even such truths as the existence of 
 God, his paternal government of the world, and the divine 
 origin of Christianity. 
 
 ' In these moods, objections which he thought had long since 
 been dead and buried, start again into sudden existence. They 
 do more : like the escaped genius of the Arabian Nights, who 
 rises from the little bottle in which he had been imprisoned, in 
 the shape of a thin smoke, which finally assumes gigantic out- 
 lines, and towers to the skies, these flimsy objections dilate into 
 monstrous dimensions, and fill the whole sphere of mental vision. 
 The arguments by which we have been accustomed to combat 
 them seem to have vanished, or, if they appear at all, look 
 diminished in force and vividness. If we may pursue the allu- 
 sion we have just made, we even wonder how such mighty forms 
 should ever have been compressed into so narrow a space. Bunyau 
 tells us, that when his pilgrims, under the perturbation produced 
 by previous terrible visions, turned the perspective glass towards 
 the Celestial City from the summits of the Delectable Moun- 
 tains, their hands shook so that they could not steadily look 
 through the instrument ; yet they thought they saw 'something 
 like the gate, and also ' some of the glory of the place/ It is 
 even so with many of the moods in which other 'pilgrims' 
 attempt to gaze in the same direction ; a deep haze seems to 
 have settled over the golden pinnacles and the ' gates of pearl;' 
 they, for a moment, doubt whether what others declare they 
 have seen, and what they flatter themselves they have seen them- 
 selves, be anything else than a gorgeous vision in the clouds ; 
 and 'faith' is no longer 'the substance of things hoped for,' 
 and the evidence of ' things not seen.' 
 
 ' And as there are probably few who have profoundly investi- 
 gated the evidences of truth, who have not felt themselves for 
 a moment at least, and sometimes for a yet longer space, as if 
 on the verge of universal scepticism, and about to be driven 
 forth, without star or compass, on a boundless ocean of doubt
 
 Essay xxxi.] Annotations. 357 
 
 and perplexity, so these states of feeling are peculiarly apt to 
 infest the highest order of minds. For if, on the one hand, 
 these can best discern and estimate the evidence which proves 
 any truth, they, on the other, can see most clearly and feel 
 most strongly the nature and extent of the objections which 
 oppose it; while they are, at the same time, just as liable as the 
 vulgar to the disturbing influences already adverted to. This 
 liability is of course doubled, when its subject, as in the case 
 of Pascal, labours under the disadvantage of a gloomy tem- 
 perament. 
 
 'A circumstance which in these conflicts of mind often 
 gives sceptical objections an undue advantage is, that the great 
 truths which it is more especially apt to assail are generally the 
 result of an accumulation of proof by induction, or are even 
 dependent on quite separate trains of argument. The mind, 
 therefore, cannot comprehend them at a glance, and feel at 
 once their integrated force, but must examine them in detail by 
 successive acts of mind, just as we take the measurement of 
 magnitudes too vast to be seen at once, in successive small 
 portions. The existence of God, the moral government of the 
 world, the divine origin of Christianity, are all truths of this 
 stamp. Pascal, in one of his Pense.es, refers to this infirmity 
 of the logical faculties. He justly observes ' To have a series 
 of proofs incessantly before the mind is beyond our power/ 
 D'en avoir toujours les preuves presentes, c'est trop 
 d'affaire. 
 
 ' From the inability of the mind to retain in perpetuity, or 
 to comprehend at a glance, a long chain of evidence, or the 
 total effect of various lines of argument, Pascal truly observes 
 that it is not sufficient for the security of our convictions, and 
 their due influence over our belief and practice, that we have 
 proved them, once for all, by a process of reasoning: they 
 must be, if possible, tinctured and coloured by the imagination, 
 informed and animated by feeling, and rendered vigorous and 
 practical by habit. His words are well worth writing: 
 ' Reason acts slowly, and with so many views upon so many 
 principles which it is necessary should be always present, that 
 it is perpetually dropping asleep, and is lost for want of having 
 all its principles present to it. The affections do not act thus ; 
 they act instantaneously, and are always ready for action. It
 
 358 Qf Suspicion. [Essay xxxi. 
 
 is necessary, therefore, to imbue our faith with feeling; other- 
 wise it will be always vacillating.' 
 
 ' It will not, of course, be imagined that, in the observations 
 we have now made, we are disposed to be the apologists of 
 scepticism ; or even, so far as it is yielded to, of that transient 
 doubt to which we affirm even the most powerful minds are not 
 only liable, but liable in defiance of what are ordinarily their 
 strong convictions. So far as such states of mind are involun- 
 tary (and for an instant they often are, till, in fact, the mind 
 collects itself, and repels them), they are of course the object, 
 not of blame, but of pity. So far as they are dependent upon 
 fluctuations of feeling, or upon physical causes which we can 
 at all modify or control, it is our duty to summon the mind to 
 resist the assault, and reflect on the nature of that evidence 
 which has so often appeared to us little less than demon- 
 strative. 
 
 ' We are not, then, the apologists of scepticism, or anything 
 approaching it ; we are merely stating a psychological fact, for 
 the proof of which we appeal to the recorded confessions of 
 many great minds, and to the experience of those who have 
 reflected deeply enough on any large and difficult subject to 
 know what can be said for or against it. 
 
 ' The asserted fact is, that habitual belief of the sincerest and 
 strongest character is sometimes checkered with transient fits 
 of doubt and misgiving, and that, even when there is no actual 
 disbelief no, not for a moment ; the mind may, in some of its 
 moods, form a very diminished estimate of the evidence on 
 which belief is founded, and grievously understate it accord- 
 ingly. We believe that both these states of mind were occa- 
 sionally experienced by Pascal the latter, however, much more 
 frequently than the former; and hence, as we apprehend, are 
 we to account for those passages in which he speaks of the evi- 
 dence for the existence of a God, or for the truth of Christianity, 
 as less conclusive than he ordinarily believed, or than he has 
 at other times declared them. 
 
 'At such times, the clouds may be supposed to have hung 
 low upon this lofty mind. 
 
 ' So little inconsistent with a habit of intelligent faith are 
 such transient invasions of doubt, or such diminished percep- 
 tions of the evidence of truth, that it may even be said that it
 
 Essay xxxi.] Annotations. 259 
 
 is only those who have in some measure experienced them, who 
 can be said, in the highest sense, to believe at all. He who has 
 never had a doubt, who believes what he believes for reasons 
 which he thinks as irrefragable (if that be possible) as those of 
 a mathematical demonstration, ought not to be said so much to 
 believe as to know ; his belief is to him knowledge, and his mind 
 stands in the same relation to it, however erroneous and absurd 
 that belief may be. It is rather he who believes not indeed 
 without the exercise of his reason, but without the full satis- 
 faction of his reason with a knowledge and appreciation of for- 
 midable objections it is this man who may most truly be said 
 intelligently to believe/ (Pages 213-217.) 
 
 The same thought is thus expressed in a short poem by Bp. 
 Hinds : 
 
 'And the Apostles said unto the Lord, Increase our faith.' Luke xvii. 5. 
 
 ( What ! gazing on your Saviour's face, 
 
 And listening to his word, 
 Dared you to ask for further grace, 
 To credit all you heard ? 
 
 ' Yet so it is ; belief springs still 
 
 In souls that nurture doubt ; . ' 
 
 And we must go to Him who will 
 The baneful weed cast out. 
 
 f Did never thorns thy path beset ? 
 
 Beware be not deceived ; 
 He who has never doubted yet, 
 Has never yet believed/ 
 
 f Wise men assuredly consider it as a most important element 
 in the education of their own children, not indeed that they 
 should be taught to believe what they are told without any 
 reason (and if they have been properly trained, a just confidence 
 in the assurances of their superiors in knowledge will on many 
 subjects be reason sufficient), yet, upon evidence far less than 
 demonstration; indeed, upon evidence far less than they will 
 be able to appreciate, when the lapse of a few brief years has 
 transformed them from children into men. We certainly expect 
 that they will believe many things as facts, which as yet they 
 cannot fully comprehend nay, which they tell us are, in appear-
 
 360 Of Suspicion. [Essay xxxi. 
 
 ance, paradoxical ; and to rest satisfied with the assurance, that 
 it is vain to attempt to explain the evidence until they get older 
 and wiser. We are accustomed even to augur the worst results 
 as to the future course and conduct of a youth who has not 
 learned to exercise thus much of practical faith, and who flip- 
 pantly, on the score of his not being able to comprehend them, 
 rejects truths of which he yet has greater evidence, though not 
 direct evidence, of their being truths, than he has of the con- 
 trary. Now, ' if we have had earthly fathers, and have given 
 them reverence/ after this fashion, and, when we have become 
 men, have applauded our submission as appropriate to our con- 
 dition of dependence, ' shall we not much rather be subject to 
 the Father of Spirits, and live?* If, then, the present be a 
 scene of moral education and discipline, it seems fit in itself 
 that the evidence of the truths we believe should be checkered 
 with difficulties and liable to objections; should be not strong 
 enough to force assent, nor so obscure as to elude sincere inves- 
 tigation. 
 
 ' God, according to the memorable aphorism of Pascal already 
 cited, has afforded sufficient light to those whose object is to 
 see, and left sufficient obscurity to perplex those who have no 
 such wish. All that seems necessary or reasonable to expect is, 
 that as we are certainly not called upon to believe anything 
 without reason, nor without a preponderance of reason, so the 
 evidence shall be such as our faculties are capable of dealing 
 with ; and that the objections shall be only such as equally baffle 
 us upon any other hypothesis, or are insoluble only because they 
 transcend altogether the limits of the human understanding : 
 which last circumstance can be no valid reason, apart from 
 other grounds, either for accepting or rejecting a given 
 dogma. 
 
 ' Now, we contend, that it is in this equitable way that God 
 has dealt with us as moral agents, in relation to all the great 
 truths which lie at the basis of religion and morals; and, we 
 may add, in relation to the divine origin of Christianity. The 
 evidence is all of such a nature as we are accustomed every 
 day to deal with and to act upon ; while the objections are 
 either such as reappear in every other theory, or turn on dif- 
 ficulties absolutely beyond the limits of the human faculties/ 
 (Pages 217-218.)
 
 Essay xxxi.j Annotations. 361 
 
 'It is much the same with the evidences of Christianity. 
 Whether a certain amount and complexity of testimony are 
 likely to be false ; whether it is likely that not one, but a num- 
 ber of men, would endure ignominy, persecution, and the last 
 extremities of torture, in support of an unprofitable lie ; whether 
 such an original fiction as Christianity if it be a fiction is 
 likely to have been the production of Galilean peasants ; whether 
 anything so sublime was to be expected from fools, or anything 
 so holy from knaves; whether illiterate fraud was likely to be 
 equal to such a wonderful fabrication ; whether infinite artifice 
 may be expected from ignorance, or a perfectly natural and suc- 
 cessful assumption of truth, from imposture : these, and a mul- 
 titude of the like questions, are precisely of the same nature, 
 however they may be decided, with those with which the his- 
 torian and the advocate, judges and courts of law, are every day 
 required to deal. On the other hand, whether miracles have 
 ever been, or are ever likely to be, admitted in the administra- 
 tion of the universe, is a question on which it would demand a 
 far more comprehensive knowledge of that administration than 
 we can possibly possess, to justify an a priori decision. That 
 they are possible, is all that is required ; and that, no consistent 
 theist can deny. Other difficulties of Christianity, as Bishop 
 Butler has so clearly shown, baffle us on every other hypothesis ; 
 they meet us as much in the ' constitution of nature/ as in the 
 pages of revelation ; and cannot consistently be pleaded against 
 Christianity without being equally fatal to theism. 
 
 ' There are two things, we will venture to say, at which the 
 philosophers of some future age will stand equally astonished : 
 the one is, that any man should have been called upon to believe 
 any mystery, whether of philosophy or religion, without a pre- 
 ponderance of evidence of a nature which he can grasp, or on 
 the mere ipse dixit of a fallible creature like himself; the other, 
 that where there is such evidence, man should reject a mystery, 
 merely because it is one. 
 
 ' This last, perhaps, will be regarded as the more astonishing 
 of the two. That Man who lives in a dwelling of clay, and 
 looks out upon the illimitable universe through such tiny windows 
 who stands, as Pascal sublimely says, between 'two infinitudes'
 
 362 Of Suspicion. [Essay xxxi. 
 
 who is absolutely surrounded by mysteries, which he over- 
 looks only because he is so familiar with them, should doubt 
 a proposition (otherwise well sustained) from its intrinsic diffi- 
 culty, does not seem very reasonable. But when we further 
 reflect that that very mind which erects itself into a standard 
 of all things, is, of all things, the most ignorant of that which 
 it ought to know best itself, and finds there the most inscrutable 
 of all mysteries, when we reflect that when asked to declare 
 what itself is, it is obliged to confess that it knows nothing about 
 the matter nothing either of its own essence or its mode of 
 operation, that it is sometimes inclined to think itself material, 
 and sometimes immaterial that it cannot quite come to a con- 
 clusion whether the body really exists, or is a phantom, or in 
 what way (if the body really exists) the intimate union between 
 the two is maintained, when we see it perplexed beyond expres- 
 sion, even to conceive how these phenomena can be reconciled 
 proclaiming it to be an almost equal contradiction to suppose 
 that matter can think, or the soul be material, or a con- 
 nexion maintained between two totally different substances, and 
 yet admitting that one of these must be true, though it cannot 
 satisfactorily determine which, when we reflect on all this, 
 surely we cannot but feel that the spectacle of so ignorant a 
 Being refusing to believe a proposition, merely because it is above 
 its comprehension, is, of all paradoxes, the most paradoxical, and 
 of all absurdities, the most ludicrous.' (Pages 219, 220.) 
 
 ' There is nothing makes a man suspect much, more than to know 
 little ; and, therefore, men should remedy suspicion by pro- 
 curing to know more' 
 
 This is equally true of the suspicions that have reference to 
 things as of persons. I extract a passage bearing upon this 
 point, from the Cautions for the Times: 
 
 1 Multitudes are haunted by the spectres, as it were, of vague 
 surmises and indefinite suspicions, which continue thus to haunt 
 them, just because they are vague and indefinite, because the 
 mind has never ventured to look them boldly in the face, and 
 put them into a shape in which reason can examine them. 
 
 ' Now, would it not be an act of great charity towards such 
 persons to persuade them to cast away their unreasonable
 
 Essay xxxi.] Annotations. 363 
 
 timidity, and scrutinize such objections, instead of trying to 
 banish them by force ? For though, no doubt, some difficulties 
 and objections will always remain that cannot be directly cleared 
 up or answered, yet the vastly greatest number of seeming 
 objections and difficulties can be satisfactorily removed by care- 
 ful examination and increased knowledge; and the experience 
 of this will lead us to be confident that, if we could propor- 
 tionately enlarge our faculties and acquirements (which is what 
 we may hope for in a better world), the rest would vanish also. 
 And, in the meanwhile, it is of great importance to know exactly 
 what they are, lest our fancies should unduly magnify their 
 number and weight ; and also in order to make us see that they 
 are as nothing in comparison of the still greater difficulties on 
 the opposite side, namely, the objections which we should have 
 to encounter, if we rejected Christianity. 
 
 ' Well, but/ it is said, ' though that course may be the best 
 for well-read and skilful Divines, it is better not to notice objec- 
 tions generally, for fear of alarming and unsettling the minds 
 of plain unlearned people, who had probably never heard of 
 anything of the kind. Let them continue to read their Bible 
 without being disturbed by any doubts or suspicions that might 
 make them uneasy/ 
 
 * Now, if in some sea-chart for the use of mariners, the various 
 rocks and shoals which a vessel has to pass in a certain voyage, 
 were to be wholly omitted, and no notice taken of them, no doubt 
 many persons might happen to make the voyage safely, and with 
 a comfortable feeling of security, from not knowing at all of the 
 existence of any such dangers. But suppose some one did strike 
 on one of these rocks, from not knowing though the makers of 
 the chart did of its existence, and consequently perished in a 
 shipwreck which he might have been taught to avoid, on whose 
 head would his blood lie ? 
 
 'And again, if several voyagers came to suspect, from vague 
 rumours, that rocks and shoals (perhaps more formidable than 
 the real ones) did lie in their course, without any correct know- 
 ledge where they lay, or how to keep clear of them, then, so far 
 from enjoying freedom from apprehension, they would be exposed 
 to increased alarm and much of it needless alarm, without 
 being, after all, preserved from danger. 
 
 ' And so it is in the present case. Vague hints that learned
 
 364 Of Suspicion. [Essay xxxi. 
 
 men have objected to such and such things, and have questioned 
 this or that, often act like an inward slow-corroding canker in 
 the minds of some who have never read or heard anything dis- 
 tinct on the subject; and who, for that very reason, are apt to 
 imagine these objections, &c., to be much more formidable than 
 they really are. For there are people of perverse mind, who, 
 really possessing both learning and ingenuity, will employ these 
 to dress up in a plausible form something which is, in truth, 
 perfectly silly: and the degree to which this is sometimes done, 
 is what no one can easily conceive without actual experience 
 and examination. 
 
 ' It is, therefore, often useful, in dealing even with the un- 
 learned, to take notice of groundless and fanciful theories and 
 interpretations, contained in books which probably most of them 
 will never see, and which some of them perhaps will never even 
 hear of; because many persons are a good deal influenced by 
 reports, and obscure rumours, of the opinions of some supposed 
 learned man, without knowing distinctly what they are; and 
 are likely to be made uneasy and distrustful by being assured 
 that this or that has been disputed, and so and so maintained, 
 by some person of superior knowledge and talents, who has pro- 
 ceeded on ' rational ' grounds ; when, perhaps, they themselves 
 are qualified by their own plain sense to perceive how zr-rational 
 these fanciful notions are, and to form a right judgment on the 
 matters in question. 
 
 e Suppose you were startled in a dark night by something that 
 looked like a spectre in a winding-sheet, would not he who 
 should bring a lantern, and show you that it was nothing but a 
 white cloth hanging on a bush, give you far better encourage- 
 ment than he who merely exhorted you to ' look another way, 
 keep up your heart, whistle, and pass on ?' ' 
 
 No avowedly anti-christian advocate is half so dangerous as 
 those professed believers who deprecate and deride all study of 
 evidence, all endeavour to ' prove all things, and hold fast that 
 which is good/ and to be always ' ready to give a reason of the 
 hope that is in us/ l 
 
 See Elements of Logic, Appendix iii.
 
 ESSAY XXXII. 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 commonplaces 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 honourablest 
 part of the talk is to give the occasion ; and again to moderate, 1 
 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 2 anything 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 : 
 
 'Farce puer stimulis, et fortius utere loris.' 3 
 
 And, generally, men ought to find the difference between salt- 
 ness 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 ; 4 and let him be sure 
 
 1 Moderate. Regulate. Those who presided at University-disputations were 
 called Moderators. 
 
 2 Jade. To over-ride or drive. 
 
 ' I do not now fool myself to let imagination jade me.'Shakespere. 
 
 3 'Boy, spare the spur, and more tightly hold the reins.' Ovid. Met. ii. 127. 
 
 4 Poser. Examiner. (From pose, to interrogate closely.) ' She posed him, 
 and sifted him to try whether he were the very Duke of York or not.' Bacou's 
 Henry VII.
 
 366 Of Discourse. [Essay xxxii. 
 
 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 bring others on, as musicians used to do 
 with those that dance too long galliards. 1 
 
 If you dissemble sometimes your knowledge of that 2 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 a good 
 grace, and that is in commending virtue in another, especially if it 
 be such a virtue whereunto himself pretendeth. 3 Speech of touch 4 
 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 5 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 6 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 
 
 1 Galliard. A sprightly dance. 
 
 ' Gay galliards here my love shall dance, 
 
 Whilst I my foes goe fighte.' Fair Rosamond. 
 'What is thy excellence in agalliard, Knight ?' Shakespere. 
 
 2 That. What; that which. See page 82. 
 
 3 Pretend to. Lay claim to. ' Those countries that pretend to freedom.' 
 
 4 Touch. Particular application. ' Dr. Parker, in his sermon before them, 
 touched them for their being so near that they went near to touch him for his 
 life.' Hayward. 
 
 6 Flout. Jeer; taunt; gibe. 
 
 ' These doors are barred against a bitter flout ; 
 
 Snarl if you please ; but you shall snarl without.' Dryden. 
 ' Full of comparisons and wounding flouts' ShaJcespere. 
 6 Agreeably. In a manner suited.
 
 Essay xxxii.] Annotations. 367 
 
 turn ; as it is betwixt the greyhound and the hare. To use too 
 many circumstances 1 ere 2 one come to the matter, is wearisome ; 
 to use none at all, is blunt. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 Among the many just and admirable remarks in this essay 
 on ' Discourse/ Bacon does not notice the distinction which is 
 an important one between those who speak because they wish 
 to say something, and those who speak because they have some- 
 thing to say: that is, between those who are aiming at displaying 
 their own knowledge or ability, and those who speak from ful- 
 ness of matter, and are thinking only of the matter, and not of 
 themselves and the opinion that will be formed of them. This 
 latter, Bishop Butler calls (in reference to writings) ' a man's 
 writing with simplicity, and in earnest/ It is curious to observe 
 how much more agreeable is even inferior conversation of this 
 latter description, and how it is preferred by many, they know 
 not why who are not accustomed to analyse their own feelings, 
 or to inquire why they like or dislike. 
 
 Something nearly coinciding with the above distinction, is that 
 which some draw between an ' unconscious ' and a ' conscious ' 
 manner; only that the latter extends to persons who are not 
 courting applause, but anxiously guarding against censure. By 
 a ' conscious ' manner is meant, in short, a continual thought 
 about oneself, and about what the company will think of us. 
 The continual effort and watchful care on the part of the 
 speaker, either to obtain approbation, or at least to avoid dis- 
 approbation, always communicates itself, in a certain degree, to 
 the hearers. 
 
 Some draw a distinction, again, akin to the above, between 
 the desire to please, and the desire to give pleasure ; meaning by 
 the former, an anxiety to obtain for yourself the good opinion 
 
 1 Circumstances. Non-essential particulars ; adjuncts. 
 
 ' This peroration, with such circumstance.' Shakespere. 
 
 2 Ere. Before. ' The nobleman said unto him, Sir, coine down ere my child 
 die." John iv. 49.
 
 368 Of Discourse. [Essay xxxii. 
 
 of those you converse with, and by the other, the wish to gratify 
 them. 
 
 Aristotle, again, draws the distinction between the Eiron and 
 the Bomolochus, that the former seerns to throw out his wit 
 for his own amusement, and the other for that of the company. 
 It is this latter, however, that is really the ' conscious' speaker ; 
 because he is evidently seeking to obtain credit as a wit by his 
 diversion of the company. The word seems nearly to answer to 
 what we call a ' wag.' The other is letting out his good things 
 merely from his own fulness. 
 
 When that which has been called ' consciousness* is combined 
 with great timidity, it constitutes what we call ' shyness;' a 
 thing disagreeable to others, and a most intense torture to the 
 subject of it. 
 
 There are many (otherwise) sensible people who seek to cure 
 a young person of that very common complaint, by exhorting 
 him not to be shy, telling him what an awkward appearance 
 it has, and that it prevents his doing himself justice, &c. 
 All which is manifestly pouring oil on the fire to quench it. 
 For, the very cause of shyness is an over-anxiety as to what 
 people are thinking of you ; a morbid attention to your own 
 appearance. The course, therefore, that ought to be pursued 
 is exactly the reverse. The sufferer should be exhorted to 
 think as little as possible about himself, and the opinion formed 
 of him, to be assured that most of the company do not 
 trouble their heads about him, and to harden him against any 
 impertinent criticisms that may be supposed to be going on, 
 taking care only to do what is right, leaving others to think 
 and say what they will. 
 
 And the more intensely occupied any one is with the subject- 
 matter of what he is saying the business itself that he is 
 engaged in, the less will his thoughts be turned on himself, 
 and what others think of him. 
 
 A. was, as a youth, most distressingly bashful. After he had 
 taken Orders, he was staying at a friend's house, where there was 
 also another clergyman, who was to preach, and who remarked 
 to him how nervous he always felt in preaching in a strange 
 church, asking whether the other did not feel the same. Per- 
 haps he expected to be complimented on his modesty ; but A. 
 replied, ' I never allow myself to feel nervous in preaching ;
 
 Essay xxxii.] Annotations. 369 
 
 I dare not be thinking of myself, and of the opinion formed of 
 me, when I have such a momentous work in hand, as my 
 Master's cause, and the salvation of souls.' The other, a little 
 taken by surprise, admitted that this was what a Christian 
 minister ought to be occupied with ; ' but/ said he, ' he may be 
 allowed, surely, to feel doubts as to his own qualification for so 
 high and important an office/ ' True/ replied A., ' but the 
 proper time for such doubts is before he takes Orders; after 
 that, he should be thinking only of the work itself, and of 
 striving to become more and more qualified for it/ 
 
 As for the greater degree of nervousness [bashfulness] felt 
 in addressing a large assembly than a few, I beg leave to 
 extract a passage from my Elements of Rhetoric, in which I 
 have endeavoured to account for this remarkable phenomenon, 
 for surely it must be considered as such, that a person who is 
 able with facility to express his sentiments in private to a friend, 
 in such language, and in such a manner, as would be perfectly 
 suitable to a certain audience, yet finds it extremely difficult to 
 address to that audience the very same words, in the same man- 
 ner; and is, in many instances, either completely struck dumb, 
 or greatly embarrassed, when he attempts it. ' Most persons are 
 so familiar with the fact, as hardly to have ever considered that 
 it requires explanation : but attentive consideration shows it to 
 be a very curious, as well as important one ; and of which no 
 explanation, as far as I know, has been attempted. It cannot 
 be from any superior deference which the speaker thinks it 
 right to feel for the judgment of the hearers ; for it will often 
 happen that the single friend, to whom he is able to speak 
 fluently, shall be one whose good opinion he more values, and 
 whose wisdom he is more disposed to look up to, than that of 
 all the others together. The speaker may even feel that he 
 himself has a decided and acknowledged superiority over every 
 one of the audience; and that he should not be the least 
 abashed in addressing any two or three of them, separately ; 
 yet, still, all of them, collectively, will often inspire him with a 
 kind of dread. 
 
 ' Closely allied in its causes with the phenomenon I am con- 
 sidering, is that other curious fact, that the very same senti- 
 ments, expressed in the same manner, will often have a far 
 more powerful effect on a large audience than they would have 
 
 B B
 
 370 .Of Discourse. [Essay xxxii. 
 
 on any one or two of these very persons, separately. That is, 
 in a great degree, true of all men, which was said of the 
 Athenians, that they were like sheep, of which a flock is more 
 easily driven than a single one. 
 
 ' Another remarkable circumstance, connected with the fore- 
 going, is the difference in respect of the style which is suitable, 
 respectively, in addressing a multitude, and two or three even 
 of the same persons. A much bolder, as well as less accurate, 
 kind of language is both allowable and advisable, in speaking 
 to a considerable number ; as Aristotle has remarked, 1 in speak- 
 ing of the Graphic and Agonistic styles, the former, suited to 
 the closet, the latter, to public speaking before a large as- 
 sembly. And he ingeniously compares them to the different 
 styles of painting : the greater the crowd, he says, the more 
 distant is the view; so that in scene-painting, for instance, 
 coarser and bolder touches are required, and the nice finish, 
 which would delight a close spectator, would be lost. He does 
 not, however, account for the phenomena in question. 
 
 * The solution of them will be found by attention to a very 
 curious and complex play of sympathies which takes place in a 
 large assembly ; and (within certain limits), the more, in pro- 
 portion to its numbers. First, it is to be observed that we are 
 disposed to sympathize with any emotion which we believe to 
 exist in the mind of any one present ; and hence, if we are at 
 the same time otherwise disposed to feel that emotion, such 
 disposition is in consequence heightened. In the next place, 
 we not only ourselves feel this tendency, but we are sensible 
 that others do the same ; and thus, we sympathize not only 
 with the other emotions of the rest, but also with their sym- 
 pathy towards us. Any emotion, accordingly, which we feel, is 
 still further heightened by the knowledge that there are others 
 present who not only feel the same, but feel it the more strongly 
 in consequence of their sympathy with ourselves. Lastly, we 
 are sensible that those around us sympathize not only with 
 ourselves, but with each other also ; and as we enter into this 
 heightened feeling of theirs likewise, the stimulus to our own 
 minds is thereby still further increased. 
 
 1 The case of the Ludicrous affords the most obvious illustra- 
 
 Rhetor>c t book lii.
 
 Essay xxxii.] Annotations. 37 1 
 
 tion of these principles, from the circumstance that the effects 
 produced are so open and palpable. If anything of this nature 
 occurs, you are disposed, by the character of the thing itself, to 
 laugh ; but much more, if any one else is known to be present 
 whom you think likely to be diverted with it ; even though that 
 other should not know of your presence ; but much more still, 
 if he does know it ; because you are then aware that sympathy 
 with your emotion heightens his : and most of all will the dis- 
 position to laugh be increased, if many are present ; because each 
 is then aware that they all sympathize with each other, as well 
 as with himself. It is hardly necessary to mention the exact 
 correspondence of the fact with the above explanation. So 
 important, in this case, is the operation of the causes here 
 noticed, that hardly any one ever laughs when he is quite alone ; 
 or if he does, he will find, on consideration, that it is from a 
 conception of the presence of some companion whom he thinks 
 likely to have been amused, had he been present, and to whom 
 he thinks of describing, or repeating, what had diverted himself. 
 Indeed, in other cases, as well as the one just instanced, almost 
 every one is aware of the infectious nature of any emotion 
 excited in a large assembly. It may be compared to the 
 increase of sound by a number of echoes, or of light, by. a 
 number of mirrors ; or to the blaze of a heap of firebrands, 
 each of which would speedily have gone out if kindled sepa- 
 rately, but which, when thrown together, help to kindle each 
 other. 
 
 ' The application of what has been said to the case before us 
 is sufficiently obvious. In addressing a large assembly, you 
 know that each of them sympathizes both with your own anxiety 
 to acquit yourself well, and also with the same feeling, in the 
 minds of the rest. You know also, that every slip you may be 
 guilty of, that may tend to excite ridicule, pity, disgust, &c., 
 makes the stronger impression on each of the hearers, from their 
 mutual sympathy, and their consciousness of it. This augments 
 your anxiety. Next, you know that each hearer, putting himself 
 mentally in the speaker's place, 1 sympathizes with this aug- 
 
 1 Hence it is that shy persons are, as is matter of common remark, the more 
 distressed by this infirmity when in company with those who are subject to the 
 same. 
 
 B B 2
 
 Of Discourse. [Essay xxxii. 
 
 raented anxiety : which is, by this thought, increased still further. 
 And if you become at all embarrassed, the knowledge that there 
 are so many to sympathize, not only with that embarrassment, 
 but also with each other's feelings on the perception of it, 
 heightens your confusion to the utmost. 
 
 ' The same causes will account for a skilful orator's being 
 able to rouse so much more easily, and more powerfully, the 
 passions of a multitude : they inflame each other by mutual 
 sympathy and mutual consciousness of it. And hence it is 
 that a bolder kind of language is suitable to such an audience ; 
 a passage which, in the closet, might, just at the first glance, 
 tend to excite awe, compassion, indignation, or any other such 
 emotion, but which would, on a moment's cool reflection, appear 
 extravagant, may be very suitable for the Agonistic style ; 
 because, before that moment's reflection could take place in each 
 hearer's mind, he would be aware, that every one around him 
 sympathized in that first emotion ; which would thus become so 
 much heightened as to preclude, in a great degree, the ingress 
 of any counteracting sentiment. 
 
 f If one could suppose such a case as that of a speaker 
 (himself aware of the circumstance), addressing a multitude, 
 each of whom believed himself to be the sole hearer, it is pro- 
 bable that little or no embarrassment would be felt, and a 
 much more sober, calm, and finished style of language would 
 be adopted/ 
 
 There are two kinds of orators, the distinction between whom 
 might be thus illustrated. When the moon shines brightly 
 we are apt to say, t How beautiful is this moon-light /' but in 
 the day-time, ' How beautiful are the trees, the fields, the 
 mountains !' and, in short, all the objects that are illuminated ; 
 we never speak of the sun that makes them so. Just in the 
 same way, the really greatest orator shines like the sun, making 
 you think much of the things he is speaking of; the second- 
 best shines like the moon, making you think much of him and 
 his eloquence.
 
 Essay xxxii.] Annotations. 373 
 
 * To use too many circumstances, ere you come to the matter, is 
 
 wearisome.' 
 
 Bacon might have noticed some who never l come to the 
 matter/ How many a meandering discourse one hears, in 
 which the speaker aims at nothing, and hits it. 
 
 '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.' 
 
 This suggestion might have come in among the tricks enu- 
 merated in the Essay on ' Cunning,'
 
 ESSAY XXXIII. OF PLANTATIONS. 1 
 
 T)LANTATIONS are amongst ancient, primitive, and heroical 
 JL works. When the world was young it begat more chil- 
 dren, 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 dis- 
 planted 2 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 lose 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 it may stand 3 .with the good of the plantation, but no 
 farther. 
 
 It is a shameful and unblessed thing to take the scum of 
 people, and wicked condemned men, to be the people with 
 whom you plant ; and not only so, but it spoileth the planta- 
 tion ; 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, labourers, 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 ches- 
 nuts, walnuts, pine-apples, olives, dates, plums, cherries, wild 
 honey, and the like, and make use of them. Then consider 
 what victual or esculent things there are, which grow speedily, 
 and within the year; as parsneps, carrots, turnips, onions, ra- 
 
 1 Plantations. Colonies. 'Towns here are few, either of the old or new 
 plantations' Heylin. 
 
 1 Displant. 'Those French pirates that displanted us.' Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 1 Stand. To be consistent with. ' His faithful people, whatsoever they rightly 
 ask, they shall receive, as far as may stand with the glory of God and their own 
 everlasting good.' Hooker.
 
 Essay xxxiii.] . Of Plantations. 375 
 
 dish, artichokes of Jerusalem, 1 maize, and the like : for wheat, 
 barley, and oats, they ask too much labour ; but with peas and 
 beans you may begin, both because they ask less labour, and 
 because they serve for meat as well as for bread ; and of rice 
 likewise cometh a great increase, and it is a kind of meat. 
 Above all, there ought to be brought store of biscuit, oatmeal, 
 flour, meal/ and the like, in the beginning, till bread may be 
 had. For beasts or birds, take chiefly such as are least subject 
 to diseases, and multiply fastest : as swine, goats, cocks, hens, 
 turkeys, geese, house- doves, and the like. The victual in plan- 
 tations 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 3 gardens or corn be to 4 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. 5 Consider likewise, what commo- 
 dities 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 6 commodity where wood aboundeth. 
 Making of bay salt, if the climate be proper for it, would be 
 put in experience ; 7 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, 
 
 1 Artichokes of Jerusalem. A well-known culinary plant, originally of Brazil : 
 the name Jerusalem being merely a corruption of the Italian Girasole that is 
 Sun-flower, or Turn-sole. 
 
 1 ' Flour ' is still used in Suffolk to signify, exclusively, that which is finely sifted j 
 and ' meal ' that which comes from the mill. 
 
 3 To. In. ' Still a greater difficulty upon translators rises from the peculiarities 
 every language has to itself.' Felton. 
 
 4 To. For. See page 261. ' The proper business of the understanding is not 
 that which men always employ it to.' Locke. 
 
 * Private. Particular use or benefit ; private object. 
 ' Nor must I b& unmindful of my private, 
 For which I have called my brother and the tribunes, 
 My kinsfolk, and my clients to be near me.' Ben Jonson. 
 ' Brave. Excellent ; fine. 
 
 ' A brave attendance.' Shalcespere. 
 7 Experience. Experiment ; trial. ' As curious experiences did affirm.' Say.
 
 Of Plantations. [Essay xxxiii. 
 
 cannot but yield great profit; soap ashes likewise, and other 
 things that may be thought of; but moil 1 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 3 in the country that planteth, but upon a 
 temperate number ; and let those be rather noblemen and gentle- 
 men, than merchants; for they look ever to the present gain. 
 Let there be freedoms from custom, till the plantation be of 
 strength, and not only freedom from custom, but freedom to 
 carry their commodities where they may make their best of them, 
 except 4 there be some special cause of caution. Cram not in 
 people, by sending too fast, company after company, but rather 
 hearken 5 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 6 and unwholesome grounds ; therefore, though 
 you begin there, to avoid carriage and other like discommodities, 7 
 yet build still rather upwards from the stream than along it. 
 It concerneth likewise the health of the plantation that they 
 
 1 Moil. To toil; to drudge. 
 
 ' Now he must moil and drudge for one he loathes.' Dryden. 
 
 2 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 8 Undertakers. Managers of affairs. 
 
 ' Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.' Shakespere. 
 (Now confined to the managers of funerals.) 
 
 * Except. Unless. See page 299. 
 
 * Hearken. Watch; observe. 
 
 ' They do me too much injury 
 
 That ever said I hearkened for your death.' Shakespere. 
 ' I mount the terrace, thence the town survey, 
 
 And hearken what the fruitful sounds convey.' Dryden. 
 Marish. Marshy ; swampy, ' The fen and quagmire, so marish by kind, are 
 to be drained.' Tusser. 
 
 7 Discommodities. Inconveniences. ' We stand balancing the discommodities of 
 two corrupt disciplines.' Milton.
 
 Essay xxxiii.] Annotations. 377 
 
 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 favour 
 by helping them to invade their enemies, but for their defence, 
 it is not amiss ; and send oft l 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 2 a 
 plantation once in forwardness ; for, besides the dishonour, it is 
 the guiltiness of blood of many commiserable 3 persons. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 f Plantations are amongst ancient, primitive, and heroical 
 works.' 
 
 Bp. Hinds remarks on the great success with which the 
 ancient Greeks colonized : pursuing an opposite plan from that 
 of all nations since, and, accordingly, with opposite results. 
 
 An ancient Greek colony was like what gardeners call a 
 layer ; a portion of the parent tree, with stem, twigs, and leaves, 
 imbedded in fresh soil till it had taken root, and then severed. 
 A modern colony is like handfuls of twigs and leaves pulled off 
 at random, and thrown into the earth to take their chance. 
 
 1 Oft. Often (chiefly used in poetry). 
 
 ' Oft she rejects, but never once offends.' Pope. 
 
 2 Destitute. To leave destitute. ' Suppose God thus destitute us, yet over- 
 anxiety, or solicitude, or using of unlawful means, can never be able to secure us.' 
 Hammond. 
 
 3 Commiserable. Worthy of compassion. ' This commiserable person, Edward,* 
 Bacon's Henry VII.
 
 Of Plantations. [Essay xxxiii. 
 
 * 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.' 
 
 Yet two-and-a-half centuries after Bacon's time, the English 
 government, in opposition to the remonstrances of the en- 
 lightened and most emphatically experienced philanthropist 
 Howard, established its penal colonies in Australia, and thus, 
 in the language of Shakespere, ' began an impudent nation/ 
 
 It is now above a quarter of a century since I began point- 
 ing out to the public the manifold mischiefs of such a system ; 
 and with Bacon and Howard on my side, I persevered in 
 braving all the obloquy and ridicule that were heaped on me. 
 But successive ministries, of the most opposite political parties, 
 agreed in supporting what the most eminent Political-economist 
 of the present day had described as ' a system begun in defiance 
 of all reason, and persevered in in defiance of all experience/ 
 
 ' And not only so, but it spoileth the plantation.' 
 
 Bacon has not pointed out one particular disadvantage of this 
 mode of colonization-. The emancipists, as they are called 
 those who have come out as convicts, are described, and that 
 by some advocates of the system, as for the most part idle, 
 unthrifty settlers; and the currency, those born in the colony, 
 are represented as generally preferring a seafaring life ; having 
 the odious associations of crime and slavery connected with agri- 
 cultural pursuits, a feeling perfectly natural under such circum- 
 stances, but the very last one we would wish to find in a colony. 
 One of the results not, I apprehend, originally contemplated 
 when penal colonies were established in New South Wales by 
 the English government, is that these ' wicked condemned 
 men' have planted for themselves several volunteer colonies; 
 escaping in . small craft either to the South Sea Islands (in 
 many of which, for a good while past, each native chief has for 
 a prime-minister some choice graduate of the university of 
 Newgate), or, more frequently, to some part of the coast of 
 New Holland. Thus the land is certainly planted, but it is 
 planted with the worst of weeds, according to the ingenious 
 experiment suggested, in the Tempest, for Prospero's island : : 
 
 ' Oonzalo. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord .... 
 Antonio. He'd sow it with nettle seed.'
 
 Essay xxxiii.] Annotations. 279 
 
 This was one of the arguments put forward by me, in the 
 hope of awakening the public mind to the real character and 
 extent of the evil, in a pamphlet in the form of a letter ad- 
 dressed to Earl Grey, from which I give some extracts. 
 
 ' The defenders of the system generally keep out of sight the 
 inconsistency of professing to aim at the mutual benefit of the 
 mother country and the colonies, on a plan which sets the two 
 in direct opposition : and present, separately and alternately, 
 the supposed advantage of ' getting rid' (as it is called) of 
 criminals, and that of encouraging a growing colony; so as to 
 withdraw the attention from the real incompatibility of the 
 two. 
 
 ' In other subjects, as well as in this, I have observed that 
 two distinct objects may, by being dexterously presented, again 
 and again in quick succession, to the mind of a cursory reader, 
 be so associated together in his thoughts, as to be conceived 
 capable, when in fact they are not, of being actually combined 
 in practice. The fallacious belief thus induced bears a striking 
 resemblance to the optical illusion effected by that ingenious 
 and philosophical toy called the ' thaumatrope /'in which two 
 objects painted on opposite sides of a card, for instance, a man, 
 and a horse, a bird, and a cage, are by a quick rotatory 
 motion, made to impress the eye in combination, so as to form 
 one picture, of the man on the horse's back, the bird in the 
 cage, &c. As soon as the card is allowed to remain at rest, the 
 figures, of course, appear as they really are, separate and on 
 opposite sides. A mental illusion closely analogous to this is 
 produced, when, by a rapid and repeated transition from one 
 subject to another, alternately, the mind is deluded into an idea 
 of the actual combination of things that are really incompatible. 
 The chief part of the defence which various writers have advanced 
 in favour of the system of penal colonies consists, in truth, of a 
 sort of intellectual thaumatrope. The prosperity of the colony, 
 and the repression of crime, are, by a sort of rapid whirl, pre- 
 sented to the mind as combined in one picture. A very 
 moderate degree of calm and fixed attention soon shows that 
 the two 'objects are painted on opposite sides of the card. 
 
 ' In aid of this and the other modes of defence resorted to, a 
 topic is introduced from time to time in various forms, which is 
 equally calculated to meet all objections whatever on all subjects :
 
 380 Of Plantations* [Essay xxxiii. 
 
 that no human system can be expected to be perfect ; that 
 some partial inconvenience in one part or in another must be 
 looked for ; and that no plan can be so well devised as not to 
 require vigilant and judicious superintendence, to keep it in 
 effectual operation, and to guard against the abuses to which it 
 is liable, &c. 
 
 ' All this is very true, but does not in reality at all meet the 
 present objections. Though we cannot build a house which 
 shall never need repair, we may avoid such a misconstruction 
 as shall cause it to fall down by its own weight. Though it be 
 impossible to construct a time-piece which shall need no wind- 
 ing up, and which shall go with perfect exactitude, we may 
 guard against the error of making the wheels necessarily obstruct 
 each other's motions. And though a plan of penal legislation, 
 which shall unite all conceivable advantages and be liable to no 
 abuses, be unattainable, it is at least something gained if we do 
 but keep clear of a system which by its very constitution shall 
 have a constant and radically inherent tendency to defeat our 
 
 principal object. 
 
 > 
 
 f For, let any one but calmly reflect for a few moments on 
 the position of a Governor of one of our penal colonies, who has 
 the problem proposed to him of accomplishing two distinct and 
 in reality inconsistent objects : to legislate and govern in the 
 best manner with a view to ist, the prosperity of the colony, 
 and also, 2ndly, the suitable punishment of the convicts. It is 
 well known that slave labour is the least profitable; and can 
 seldom be made profitable at all, but by the most careful, 
 difficult, troublesome, and odious superintendence. The most 
 obvious way, therefore, of making the labour of the convicts as 
 advantageous as possible to the colony, is to make them as 
 unlike slaves as possible, to place them under such regulations, 
 and with such masters, as to ensure their obtaining not only 
 ample supplies both of necessaries and comforts, but in all re- 
 spects favourable and even indulgent treatment ; in short, to put 
 them as much as possible in the comfortable situation which free 
 labourers enjoy, where labour is so valuable, as from the abun- 
 dance of land, and the scarcity of hands, it must be, in a new 
 settlement. 
 
 ' And the masters themselves may be expected, for the most
 
 Essay xxxiii.] Annotations. 
 
 part, to perceive that their own interest (which is the only con- 
 sideration they are expected to attend to) lies in the same 
 direction. They will derive most profit from their servants, by 
 keeping them as much as possible in a cheerful and contented 
 state, even at the expense of connivance at many vices, and of 
 so much indulgence as it would not, in this country, be worth 
 any master's while to grant, when he might turn away an in- 
 different servant and hire another. The master of the convict^ 
 servants would indeed be glad, for his own profit, to exact from 
 them the utmost reasonable amount of labour, and to maintain 
 them in a style of frugality equal to, or even beyond that of a 
 labourer in England : but he will be sure to find that the attempt 
 to accomplish this would defeat his own object ; and he will be 
 satisfied to realize such profit as is within reach. He will find 
 that a labourer who does much less work than would be requisite, 
 here, to earn the scantiest subsistence, and who yet is incom- 
 parably better fed than the best English labourer, does yet (on 
 account of the great value of labour) bring a considerable profit 
 to his master ; though to employ such a labourer on such terms, 
 would, in England, be a loss instead of a profit. It answers to 
 him, therefore, to acquiesce in anything short of the most gross 
 idleness and extravagance, for the sake of keeping his slave (for 
 after all it is best to call things by their true names) in tolerably 
 good humour, rather than resort to the troublesome expedient 
 of coercion, which might be attended with risk to his person or 
 property from an ill-disposed character, and at any rate would 
 be likely to make such a servant sulky, perverse, and wilfully 
 neglectful. ' To give some idea of the serious loss of time, 
 as well as of the great trouble caused by being far removed from 
 a magistrate alone, I need only state, that when a convict-servant 
 misconducts himself, the settler must either send the vagabond 
 to the nearest magistrate, not improbably some thirty or forty 
 miles distant, or he must overlook the offence.' 1 
 
 'It may easily be conceived, therefore, what indulgent treat- 
 ment most of the convicts are likely to receive, even from the 
 more respectable class of settlers. As for the large proportion, 
 who are themselves very little different in character, tastes, and 
 habits, from their convict-servants, they may be expected usually 
 
 
 Excursions in New South Wales, by Lieutenant Breton.
 
 382 Of Plantations. [Essay xxxiii. 
 
 to live (as the travellers who have described the colony assure 
 us they do) on terms of almost perfect equality with them, 
 associating with them as boon -companions. But, to say nothing 
 of these, the more respectable settlers will be led, by a regard 
 for their own interest, to what is called the humane treatment 
 of their servants ; that is, to endeavour to place all those in their 
 employ who are not much worse than such as, in this country, 
 few would think it worth while to employ at all, in a better 
 situation than the most industrious labourers in England. 
 
 * Now, it is evident that the very reverse of this procedure is 
 suitable for a house of correction, a place of punishment. And 
 it is no less evident that a Governor must be led both by his 
 feelings, by his regard for his own ease, and by his wish for 
 popularity with all descriptions of persons around him, as well 
 as by his regard for the prosperity of the colony, to sacrifice to 
 that object the primary and most important one, of making 
 transportation, properly, a penalty. We can seldom expect to 
 find a Governor (much less a succession of Governors) willing, 
 when a choice is proposed of two objects at variance with each 
 other, to prefer the situation of keeper of a house of correction, 
 to that of a Governor of a flourishing colony. The utmost we 
 can expect is to find now and then one, crippling the measures 
 of his predecessors and of his successors, by such efforts to secure 
 both objects as will be most likely to defeat both. But the 
 individual settlers, to whom is intrusted the chief part of the 
 detail of the system, are not (like the Governor) even called on 
 by any requisition of duty, to pay any attention to the most 
 important part of that system. They are not even required to 
 think of anything but their own interest. The punishment and 
 the reformation of convicts are only incidental results. It is 
 trusted that the settler's regard for his own interest will make 
 him exact hard labour and good conduct from the servants 
 assigned to him. But if indulgence is (as we have seen) likely 
 to answer his purpose better than rigid discipline, he cannot even 
 be upbraided with any breach of duty in resorting to it. 
 
 * Of the many extraordinary features in this most marvellous 
 specimen of legislation, it is one of the most paradoxical, that it 
 intrusts a most important public service, in reference to the 
 British nation, to men who are neither selected out of this 
 nation on account of any supposed fitness to discharge it, nor
 
 Essay xxxiii.] Annotations. 383 
 
 even taught to consider that they have any public duty to perform. 
 Even in the most negligently-governed communities, the keeper 
 of a house of correction is always, professedly at least, selected 
 with some view to his integrity, discretion, firmness, and other 
 qualifications; and however ill the selection may be conducted, 
 he is at least taught to consider himself intrusted, for the public 
 benefit, with an office which it is his duty to discharge on public 
 grounds. However imperfectly all this may be accomplished, few 
 persons would deny that it is, and ought to be, at least, aimed 
 at. But this is not the case in the land of ornithorhynchus 
 paradoxus and of other paradoxes. There, each settler is, as 
 far as his own household is concerned, the keeper of a house of 
 correction. To him, so far, is intrusted the punishment and 
 the reformation of criminals. But he is not even called upon 
 to look to these objects, except as they may incidentally further 
 his own interest. He is neither expected nor exhorted to 
 regulate his treatment of convicts with a view to the diminu- 
 tion of crime in the British Isles, but to the profits of his farm 
 in Australia. 
 
 ' It is true, the settler may sometimes be, like other men, 
 actuated by other feelings besides a regard to profit : but these 
 feelings are not likely to be those of public spirit. When the 
 convict does suffer hard usage, it is not much to be expected 
 that this will be inflicted with a view to strike terror into offen- 
 ders in Great Britain, or to effect any other salutary end of 
 punishment. His treatment is likely to depend not so much 
 on the character of the crime for which he was condemned, as 
 on the character of his master. Accordingly, Colonel Arthur 
 (p. 3), in enlarging on the miseries to which a convict is sub- 
 jected, makes prominent mention of this, that ' he is conveyed 
 to a distant country, in the condition of a slave, and assigned 
 to an unknown master, whose disposition, temper, and even 
 caprice, he must consult at every turn, and submit to every 
 moment.' 
 
 1 Colonel Arthur (p. 23), falls into an inaccuracy of language 
 which tends to keep out of sight a most important practical 
 distinction. He says : ' With regard to the fact that convicts 
 are treated as slaves, any difficulty that can be raised upon it 
 must hold good whenever penitentiary or prison discipline is 
 inflicted.' If by a ' slave ' be meant any one who is subjected
 
 384 Of Plantations. [Essay xxxiii. 
 
 to the control of another, this is true. But the word is not in 
 general thus applied. It is not usual to speak of children as 
 slaves to their schoolmasters, or to their parents ; or of prisoners 
 
 being slaves of the jailer; or soldiers of their officers. By 
 
 slaves we generally understand, persons whom their master 
 compels to work for his own benefit. And in this sense Colonel 
 Arthur himself (p. 2) applies the term (I think very properly) 
 to the assigned convict-servants. 
 
 ' It is observed by Homer, in the person of one of his cha- 
 racters in the Odyssey, that ' a man loses half his virtue the 
 day that he becomes a slave ;' he might have added with truth, 
 that he is likely to lose more than half when he becomes a 
 slave-master. And if the convict-servants and their masters 
 have any virtue to lose, no system could have been devised 
 more effectual for divesting them of it. Even the regular 
 official jailers, and governors of penitentiaries, are in danger of 
 becoming brutalized, unless originally men of firm good prin- 
 ciple. And great wisdom in the contrivance of a penitentiary - 
 system, and care in the conduct of it, are requisite, to prevent 
 the hardening and debasing of the prisoners. But when both 
 the superintendent and the convicts feel that they are held in 
 bondage, and kept to work by him, not from any views of public 
 duty, but avowedly for his individual advantage, nothing can be 
 imagined more demoralizing to both parties. 
 
 ' Among all the extravagances that are recorded of capricious 
 and half-insane despots in times of ancient barbarism, I do not 
 remember any instance mentioned, of any one of these having 
 thought of so mischievously absurd a project as that of forming 
 a new nation, consisting of criminals and executioners. 
 
 ' But had such a tyrant existed, as should not only have 
 devised such a plan, but should have insisted on his subjects 
 believing, that a good moral effect would result from the inti- 
 mate association together, in idleness, of several hundreds of 
 reprobates, of various degrees of guilt, during a voyage of four 
 or five months, and their subsequent assignment as slaves to 
 various masters, under such a system as that just alluded to, it 
 would have been doubted whether the mischievous insanity of 
 wanton despotism could go a step beyond this. Another step 
 however there is ; and this is, the pretence of thus benefiting 
 and civilizing the Aborigines ! Surely those who expect the
 
 Essay xxxiii.] Annotations. 385 
 
 men of our hemisphere to believe all this, must suppose us to 
 entertain the ancient notion of the vulgar, that the Antipodes 
 are people among whom everything is reversed. The mode of 
 civilization practised, is of a piece with the rest. 
 
 ' They have (says one of the writers on the Colony) been 
 wantonly butchered ; and some of the Christian (?) whites consi- 
 der it a pastime to go out and shoot them. I questioned a person 
 from Port Stephens concerning the disputes with the Aborigines 
 of that part of the colony, and asked him, if he, or any of his 
 companions, had ever come into collision with them ; as I had 
 heard there prevailed much enmity between the latter and the 
 people belonging to the establishment ? His answer was, ' Oh, 
 we used to shoot them like fun !' It would have been a satis- 
 faction to have seen such a heartless ruffian in an archery 
 ground, with about a score of expert archers at a fair distance 
 from him, if only to witness how well he would personify the 
 representations of St. Sebastian. This man was a shrewd me- 
 chanic, and had been some years at Port Stephens. If such 
 people consider the life of a black of so little value, how is it 
 to be wondered at if the convicts entertain the same opinion? 
 It is to be hoped that the practice of shooting them is at an 
 end ; but they are still subjected to annoyance from the stock- 
 keepers, who take their women, and do them various injuries 
 besides/ 1 
 
 ' But to waive for the present all discussion of the moral 
 effects on the settlers, likely to result from the system, let it be 
 supposed that the labour of convicts may be so employed as to 
 advance the prosperity of the colony, and let it only be remem- 
 bered that this object is likely to be pursued both by governors 
 and settlers, at the expense of the other far. more important 
 one, which is inconsistent with it, the welfare of the mother- 
 country, in respect of the repression of crime. This one consi- 
 deration, apart from all others, would alone be decisive against 
 transportation as a mode of punishment ; since even if the 
 system could be made efficient for that object, supposing it to be 
 well administered with a view to that, there is a moral certainty 
 that it never will be so administered. 
 
 ' If there be, as some have suggested, a certain description 
 
 1 Breton, p. 200. 
 
 c c
 
 386 Of Plantations. [Essay xxxiii. 
 
 of offenders, to whom sentence of perpetual exile from their 
 native country is especially formidable, this object might easily 
 be attained, by erecting a penitentiary on some one of the 
 many small, nearly unproductive, and unoccupied islands in the 
 British seas; the conveyance to which would not occupy so 
 many hours, as that to Australia does weeks. 
 
 ' But as for the attempt to combine salutary punishment 
 with successful colonization, it only leads, in practice, to the 
 failure of both objects ; and, in the mind, it can only be effected 
 by keeping up a fallacious confusion of ideas/ 
 
 In Chambers' s Journal (November, 1859) is a description of 
 the state of society in Sydney, N.S. Wales. I know nothing 
 of the writer, and cannot vouch for the correctness of the ac- 
 count. But it coincides very much with the anticipations I had 
 formed above a quarter of a century before. 
 
 ' Consider likewise what commodities the soil where the 
 Plantation is doth naturally yield.' 
 
 The following humorous verses, descriptive of one of our 
 Colonies, at the time when the ' Assignment-system' was in 
 use, appeared first in Bentley's 'Miscellany. It is not more 
 paradoxical than true : 
 
 'THE LAND OF CONTRARIETIES. 
 
 ' There is a land in distant seas 
 Full of all contrarieties. 
 There beasts have mallards' bills and legs, 
 Have spurs like cocks, like hens lay eggs. 
 There quadrupeds go on two feet, 
 And yet few quadrupeds so fleet : 
 And birds, although they cannot fly, 
 In swiftness with the greyhound vie. 
 "With equal wonder you may see 
 The foxes fly from tree to tree ; 
 And what they value most so wary 
 These foxes in their pockets carry. 
 There parrots walk upon the ground, 
 And grass upon the trees is found.
 
 Essay xxxiii.] Annotations. 387 
 
 On other trees another wonder, 
 
 Leaves without upper side or under. 
 
 There apple-trees no fruit produce, 
 
 But from their trunks pour cid'rous juice. 
 
 The pears you'll scarce with hatchet cut; 
 
 Stones are outside the cherries put; 
 
 Swans are not white, but black as soot. 
 
 There the voracious ewe-sheep crams 
 
 Her paunch with flesh of tender lambs. 
 
 There neither herb, nor root, nor fruit 
 
 Will any Christian palate suit, 
 
 Unless in desp'rate need you'd fill ye 
 
 With root of fern and stalk of lily. 
 
 Instead of bread, and beef, and broth, 
 
 Men feast on many a roasted moth, 
 
 And find their most delicious food 
 
 In grubs picked out of rotten wood. 
 
 There birds construct them shady bowers, 
 
 Deck'd with bright feathers, shells, and flowers ; 
 
 To these the cocks and hens resort, 
 
 Run to and fro, and gaily sport. 
 
 Others a hot-bed join to make, 
 
 To hatch the eggs which they forsake. 
 
 There missiles to far distance sent 
 
 Come whizzing back with force unspent. 
 
 There courting swains their passion prove 
 
 By knocking down the girls they love. 
 
 There every servant gets his place 
 
 By character of foul disgrace. 
 
 There vice is virtue, virtue vice, 
 
 And all that's vile is voted nice. 
 
 The sun, when you to face him turn ye, 
 
 From right to left performs his journey. 
 
 The North winds scorch ; but when the breeze is 
 
 Full from the South, why then it freezes. 
 
 Now of what place can such strange tales 
 
 Be told with truth, but New South Wales ?' 
 
 C C
 
 388 Of Plantations. [Essay xxxiii. 
 
 ' Above all, let men make that profit of being in the wilderness, 
 that they have God always, and his service, before 'their 
 eyes' 
 
 Every settler in a foreign colony is, necessarily, more or less, 
 a missionary to the aborigines a missionary for good, or a 
 missionary for evil, operating upon them by his life and 
 example. 
 
 It is often said that our colonies ought to provide for their 
 own spiritual wants. But the more is done for them in this 
 way, the more likely they will be to make such provision ; and 
 the more they are neglected, the less likely they are to do it. 
 It is the peculiar nature of the inestimable treasure of Christian 
 truth and religious knowledge, that the more it is withheld 
 from people, the less they wish for it ; and the more is bestowed 
 upon them, the more they hunger and thirst after it. If people 
 are kept upon a short allowance of food, they are eager to ob- 
 tain it ; if you keep a man thirsty, he will become more and 
 more thirsty ; if he is poor, he is exceedingly anxious to become 
 rich ; but if he is left in a state of spiritual destitution, after a 
 time, he will, and still more his children, cease to feel it, and 
 cease to care about it. It is the last want men can be trusted 
 (in the first instance) to supply for themselves.
 
 ESSAY XXXIV. OF RICHES. 
 
 I CANNOT call riches better than the baggage of virtue ; the 
 Roman word is better impedimenta ; l 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 
 to consume it j and what hath the owner but the sight of it 
 with his eyes ?' 2 The personal fruition in any man cannot reach 
 to feel great riches : there is a custody of them, or a power of 
 dole, 3 and a 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 4 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 stronghold in the imagination of the rich man :' 5 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 or friarly contempt of them, but distinguish, 
 as Cicero saith well of Rabirius Posthumus, 'In studio rei 
 amplificandse, apparebat, nou avaritiae prsedam, sed instru- 
 mentum bonitati quseri.' 6 Hearken also to Solomon, and 
 beware of hasty gathering of riches : ' Qui festinat ad divitias, 
 non erit insons.' 7 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 ; 
 
 1 Impedimenta. Hindrances. 2 Eccles. v. II. 
 
 3 Dole. A dealing out, or distribution. 
 
 ' It was your pre-surmise, 
 That in the dole of blows, your son might drop.' 
 
 4 Because. For the reason that ; in order that. See page 285. 
 
 5 Proverbs x. irj; cf. xxviii. II. 
 
 6 ' In his desire of increasing his riches, he sought not, it was evident, the 
 gratification of avarice, hut the means of beneficence.' Cic. P. Eabir. 2. 
 
 7 ' He that maketh haste to be rich, shall not be innocent.' Prov. xxviii. 20.
 
 39 Of Riches. [Essay xxxiv. 
 
 meaning, that riches gotten by good means and just labour pace 
 slowly, but when they come by the death of others (as by the 
 course of inheritance, testaments, and the like), they come 
 tumbling upon a man : but it might be applied likewise to Pluto, 
 taking him for the Devil ; for when riches come from the Devil 
 (as by fraud, and oppression, and unjust means) they come upon 1 
 speed. The ways to enrich are many, and most of them foul : 
 parsimony is one of the best ; and yet is not innocent, for it 
 withholdeth men from works of liberality and charity. The 
 improvement of the ground is the most natural obtaining of 
 riches, for it is our great mother's blessing, the earth ; but it is 
 slow : and yet, where men of great wealth do stoop to husbandry, 
 it multiplieth riches exceedingly. I knew a nobleman of England 
 that had the greatest audits of any man in my time, a great 
 grazier, a great sheep master, a great timber man, a great col- 
 lier, a great corn master, a great lead-man, and so of iron, and 
 a number of the like points of husbandry ; so as the earth seemed 
 a sea to him in respect of the perpetual importation. It was 
 truly observed by one, ' That himself came very hardly to little 
 riches, and very easily to great riches ;' for when a man's stock 
 is come to that, that he can expect 2 the prime of markets, and 
 overcome 3 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. 4 The gains of ordinary trades 
 and vocations 5 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 6 by servants, 
 
 1 Upon. At. 
 
 ' Take upon command what help we have.' SJiakespere. 
 
 2 Expect. To wait for. ' Elihu had expected till Job had spoken.' Job 
 xxxii. 14 (marginal reading). ' . . . Expecting till his enemies be made his foot- 
 stool.' Heb. x. 13. 
 
 3 Overcome. Come upon. 
 
 ' Can such things be, 
 And overcome us, like a summer's cloud, 
 Without our special wonder ?' Shakespere. 
 
 4 Mainly. Greatly. 
 
 ' You mainly are stirred up.' Shakespere. 
 
 " Vocation. See page 23. 
 
 6 Broke. To traffic ; to deal meanly. ' This divine, contrary to his profession, 
 took upon him to broke for him in such a manner as was never precedynted by 
 any.' Proceedings in the House of Commons against Bacon.
 
 Essay xxxiv.] Of Riches. 391 
 
 and instruments to draw them on ; put off others cunningly 
 that would be better chapmen, 1 and the like practices, which are 
 crafty and naughty. 2 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. 
 S barings do greatly enrich, if the hands be well chosen that are 
 trusted. . Usury is the certaiuest 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 4 unsound men, to serve their own turn. The 
 fortune in being the first in an invention, or in a privilege, doth 
 cause sometimes a wonderful overgrowth in riches ; as it was 
 with the first sugar-man in the Canaries : therefore, if a man 
 can play the true logician, to have as well judgment as inven- 
 tion, 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 ad- 
 ventures 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 intelli- 
 gence what things are like to come into request, and so store 
 himself beforehand. Riches gotten by service, though it be of 
 the best rise, yet when they are gotten by flattery, feeding 
 humours, and other servile conditions, they may be placed 
 amongst the worst. As for ' fishing for testaments and execu- 
 torships/ (as Tacitus saith of Seneca, ' Testamenta et orbos 
 tanquam indagiiie capi,' 5 ) 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 
 
 1 Chapmen. Purchasers. 
 
 ' Fair Diomede, you do as chapmen do- 
 Dispraise the thing that they intend to huy.' Shakespere. 
 * Naught or Naughty. Bad. ' The water is naught, and the ground barren/ 
 2 Kings xi. in. 3 ' In the sweat of another's brow.' 
 
 4 Value. Represent as trustworthy. 
 
 5 ' Wills and childless parents, taken as with a net.' Tacit. Ann. xiii. 42.
 
 392 Of Riches. [Essay xxxiv. 
 
 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 estate left to an heir, is as a lure to all 
 the birds of prey round about to seize on him, if he be not the 
 better stablished 1 in years and judgment: likewise, glorious 2 
 gifts and foundations are like sacrifices without salt ; and but 
 the painted sepulchres of alms, which soon will putrefy and cor- 
 rupt inwardly. Therefore measure not thine advancements 3 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. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON ETCHES. 
 PEG. CONTEA. 
 
 ' Divitias contemnunt, qui desperant. ' Divitiarum magnarum vel custodia 
 
 ' Riches are despised by those who est, vel dispensatio quaedain, vel fama ; 
 despair of obtaining them.' at nullus usus. 
 
 * * * * ' Great wealth is a thing either to be 
 
 'Dum philosophi dubitaut utrum ad guarded, or dispensed, or displayed; 
 virtutem an ad voluptatem omnia sint but which cannot be used.' 
 referenda, collige instrumenta utriusque. 
 
 ' While philosophers are debating 'Non aliud divitias dixerim, quam 
 
 whether virtue or pleasure be the ulti- impedimenta virtutis j nam virtuti et 
 mate good, do you provide yourself with necessaria? sunt et graves. 
 the instruments of loth' ' Riches are neither more nor lest 
 
 than the baggage of virtue ; for they 
 
 ' Virtus per divitias vertitur in com- are at once necessary and inconvenient 
 mune bonum. appendages to it.' 
 
 ' It is by means of wealth that virtue 
 
 becomes a public good.' ' Multi, dum divitiis suis omnia 
 
 * venalia fore crediderunt, ipsi imprimis 
 
 venerunt. 
 
 ' Many who think that everything 
 may be bought with their own wealth, 
 have been bought themselves first.' 
 
 'Divitiae bona ancilla,pessima domina. 
 ' Wealth is a good handmaid, but a 
 lad mistress.' 
 
 1 Stablish. To establish. 'Now our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, even 
 our Father .... comfort your hearts, and stablish you in every good word and 
 work.' 2 Thess. xi. 16, 17. 
 
 ' Stop effusion of our Christian blood, 
 And stablish quietness on every side/ ShaTcespere. 
 
 2 Glorious. Splendid. 
 
 ' Were not this glorious casket stored.' Shalcespere. 
 bacon's Latin original is ' Fundationes gloriosse et splendidee in usus publicos.' 
 
 3 Advancement. Advances ; gifts in money or property. ' The jointure and 
 advancement of the lady was the third part of the Principality of Wales.' Bacon's 
 Hist.
 
 Essay xxxiv.] Annotations. 393 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' I cannot call riches better than the baggage of virtue ; the Roman 
 word is better, impedimenta it hindereth the march' 
 
 In reference to the effect on the character, both of individuals 
 and nations, of wealth and poverty, I will take leave to insert 
 some extracts from the Lectures on Political Economy. 
 
 ' We should attend to the distinction between an individual 
 and a community, when viewed as possessing a remarkable 
 share of wealth. The two cases differ immensely, as far as the 
 moral effects of wealth are concerned. For, first, the most 
 besetting, probably, of all the temptations, to which a rich man, 
 as such, is exposed, is that of pride an arrogant disdain of 
 those poorer than himself. Now, as all our ideas of great and 
 small, in respect of wealth, and of everything else, are com- 
 parative, and as each man is disposed to compare himself with 
 those around him, it is plain, the danger of priding one's self on 
 wealth, affects exclusively, or nearly so, an individual who is 
 rich, compared with his own countrymen ; and especially one 
 who is richer than most others in his own walk of life, and who 
 reside in his own neighbourhood. Some degree of national 
 pride there may be, connected with national wealth ; but this is 
 not in general near so much the foundation of national pride as 
 a supposed superiority in valour, or in mental cultivation : and 
 at any rate it seldom comes into play. An Englishman who is 
 poor, compared with other Englishmen, is not likely to be much 
 puffed up with pride at the thought of belonging to a wealthy 
 community. Nay, even though he should himself possess pro- 
 perty which, among the people of Timbuctoo, or the aboriginal 
 Britons, would be reckoned great wealth, he will be more likely 
 to complain of his poverty, than to be filled with self- congratu- 
 lation at his wealth, if most of those of his own class are as rich 
 or richer than himself. And even one who travels or resides 
 abroad, does not usually regard with disdain (on the score of 
 wealth at least) those foreigners who are individually as well off 
 in that respect as himself, though their nation may be poorer 
 than his. And, on the other hand, those individuals who, in a
 
 394 Of Riches. [Essay xxxiv. 
 
 poor country, are comparatively rich, are quite as much exposed 
 as any to the temptation of pride. 
 
 ' As for what may be said respecting avarice, selfishness, 
 worldly-mindedness, &c., it may suffice to reply, that not only 
 these vices are found as commonly in poor countries as in rich, 
 but even in the same country the poor are not at all less 
 liable to them than the rich. Those in affluent circumstances 
 may be absorbed in the pursuit of gain ; but they may also, 
 and sometimes do, devote themselves altogether to literature, 
 or science, or other pursuits, altogether remote from this : 
 those, on the other hand, who must maintain themselves by 
 labour or attention to business, are at least not the less 
 liable to the temptation of too anxiously taking thought for the 
 morrow. 
 
 1 Luxury, again, is one of the evils represented as consequent 
 on wealth. The word is used in so many senses, and so often 
 without attaching any precise meaning to it, that great confusion 
 is apt to be introduced into any discussion in which it occurs. 
 Without, however, entering prematurely on any such discussion, 
 it may be sufficient, as far as the present question is concerned, 
 to point out that the terms luxury, and luxurious, are consider- 
 ably modified as to their force, according as they are applied 
 to individuals or to nations. As an individual, a man is called 
 luxurious, in comparison with other men, of the same community 
 and in the same walk of life with himself: a nation is called 
 luxurious in reference to other nations. The same style of 
 living which would be reckoned moderate and frugal, or even 
 penurious among the higher orders, would be censured as ex- 
 travagant luxury in a day-labourer : and the labourer, again, if 
 he lives in a cottage with glass-windows and a chimney, and 
 wears shoes and stockings, and a linen or cotton shirt, is not 
 said to live in luxury, though he possesses what would be thought 
 luxuries to a negro-prince. A rich and luxurious nation, there- 
 fore, does not necessarily contain more individuals who live in 
 luxury (according to the received use of the word) than a poor 
 one ; but it possesses more of such things as would be luxuries 
 in the poor country, while in the rich one they are not. The 
 inclination for self-indulgence and ostentation is not necessarily 
 less strong in poor than in rich nations ; the chief difference is, 
 that their luxury is of a coarser description, and generally has
 
 Essay xxxiv.] Annotations. 395 
 
 more connexion with gross sensuality. Barbarians are almost 
 invariably intemperate. 
 
 ' As for the effeminizing effects that have been attributed to 
 national luxury, which has been charged with causing a decay 
 of national energy, mental and bodily, no such results appear 
 traceable to any such cause. Xenophon, indeed, attributes the 
 degeneracy of the Persians to the inroads of luxury, which was 
 carried, he says, to such a pitch of effeminacy, that they even 
 adopted the use of gloves to protect their hands. We probably 
 have gone as much beyond them, in respect of the common style 
 of living among us, as they, beyond their rude forefathers ; yet 
 it will hardly be maintained that this nation displays, in the 
 employments either of war or peace, less bodily or mental energy 
 than our Anglo-Saxon ancestors. In bodily strength, it has 
 been ascertained by accurate and repeated experiments, that 
 civilized men are decidedly superior to savages ; and that the 
 more barbarian, and those who lead a harder life, are generally 
 inferior in this point to those who have made more approaches 
 to civilization. There is, indeed, in such a country as this, a 
 larger proportion of feeble and sickly individuals ; but this is 
 because the hardship and exposure of a savage life speedily 
 destroy those who are not of a robust constitution. Some 
 there are, no doubt, whose health is impaired by an over- 
 indulgent and tender mode of life ; but as a general rule it may 
 safely be maintained, that the greater part of that over-propor- 
 tion of infirm persons among us, as compared, for instance, 
 with some wild North American tribe, owe, not their infirmity, 
 but their life, to the difference between our habits and those of 
 savages. How much the average duration of human life has 
 progressively increased in later times, is probably well-known 
 to most persons. 
 
 ' Lastly, one of the most important points of distinction 
 between individuals and nations in respect to wealth, is that 
 which relates to industry and idleness. Rich men, though they 
 are indeed often most laboriously and honourably active, yet 
 may, and sometimes do, spend their lives in such idleness as 
 cannot be found among the poor, excepting in the class of 
 beggars. A rich nation, on the contrary, is always an indus- 
 trious nation ; and almost always more industrious than poor 
 ones/
 
 396 Of Riches. [Essay xxxiv. 
 
 . . . . f Among poor and barbarian nations we may find as 
 much avarice, fraud, vanity, and envy, called forth, in reference 
 perhaps to a string of beads, a hatchet, or a musket, as are to 
 be found in wealthier communities/ 
 
 . . . . * The savage is commonly found to be covetous, fre- 
 quently rapacious, when his present inclination impels him to 
 seek any object which he needs, or which his fancy is set on. 
 He is not indeed so steady or so provident, in his pursuit of gain, 
 as the civilized man; but this is from the general unsteadiness 
 and improvidence of his character, not from his being engrossed 
 in higher pursuits. What keeps him poor, in addition to want 
 of skill and insecurity of property, is not a philosophical con- 
 tempt of riches, but a love of sluggish torpor and of present 
 gratification. The same may be said of such persons as con- 
 stitute the dregs of a civilized community; they are idle, 
 thoughtless, improvident, but thievish. Lamentable as it is to 
 see, as we may, for instance, in our own country, multitudes of 
 Beings of such high qualifications and such high destination 
 as Man, absorbed in the pursuit of merely external and merely 
 temporal objects occupied in schemes for attaining wealth and 
 worldly aggrandizement, without any higher views in pursuing 
 them, we must remember that the savage is not above such a 
 life, but below it. It is not from preferring virtue to wealth 
 the goods of the mind to those of fortune the next world to 
 the present that he takes so little thought for the morrow ; 
 but, from want of forethought and of habitual self-command. 
 The civilized man, too often, directs these qualities to an un- 
 worthy object ; the savage, universally, is deficient in the quali- 
 ties themselves. The one is a stream, flowing, too often, in a 
 wrong channel, and which needs to have its course altered ; the 
 other is a stagnant pool/ 1 
 
 ' There is one antecedent presumption that the advancement 
 in national wealth should be, on the whole, favourable to moral 
 improvement, from what we know of the divine dispensations, 
 both ordinary and extraordinary. I am aware what caution is 
 called for in any attempt to reason a priori from our notions 
 of the character and designs of the Supreme Being. But in 
 this case there is a clear analogy before us. We know that God 
 
 1 See Lecture on the Origin of Civilization.
 
 Essay xxxiv.] Annotations. 397 
 
 placed the human species in such a situation, and endued them 
 with such faculties and propensities, as would infallibly tend to 
 the advancement of society in wealth, and in all the arts of 
 life ; instead of either creating Man a different kind of Being, 
 or leaving him in that wild and uniiistructed state, from which 
 he could never have emerged. Now if the natural consequence 
 of this advancement be a continual progress from bad to worse 
 if the increase of wealth, and the development of the in- 
 tellectual powers, tend not to the improvement, but rather to 
 the depravation, of the moral character we may safely pro- 
 nounce this to be at variance with all analogy, a complete 
 reversal of every other appointment that we see throughout 
 creation. 
 
 ' And it is completely at variance with the revealed Will of 
 God. For, the great impediments to the progress I am speak- 
 ing of are, war, and dissension of every kind, insecurity of 
 property indolence, and neglect of providing for ourselves, and 
 for those dependent on us. Now, God has forbidden Man to 
 kill, and to steal ; He has inculcated on him gentleness, honesty, 
 submission to lawful authority, and industry in providing for 
 his own household. If therefore the advancement in national 
 wealth, which is found to be, by the appointment of Provi- 
 dence, the result of obedience to these precepts if, I say, this 
 advancement naturally tends to counteract that improvement of 
 the moral character, which the same God has pointed out to 
 us as the great business of this life, it is impossible to avoid 
 the conclusion, that He has given contradictory commands, 
 that He has directed us to pursue a course of action, which 
 leads to an end the very opposite of what we are required by 
 Himself to aim at/ 
 
 ' But the opposite conclusion is, surely, much more in accor- 
 dance with reason and experience, as well as with every rational 
 wish, that as the Most High has evidently formed society with 
 a tendency to advancement in national wealth, so, He has 
 designed and fitted us to advance, by means of that, in virtue, 
 and true wisdom, and happiness/ 
 
 ' Believe not much them that seem to despise riches' 
 ' The declaimers on the incompatibility of wealth and virtue 
 are mere declaimers, and nothing more. For, you will often
 
 398 Of Riches. [Essay xxxiv. 
 
 find them, in the next breath, applauding or condemning every 
 measure or institution, according to its supposed tendency to 
 increase or diminish wealth. You will find them not only 
 readily accepting wealth themselves from any honourable source, 
 and anxious to secure from poverty their children and all most 
 dear to them (for this might be referred to the prevalence of 
 passion over principle), but even offering up solemn prayers to 
 Heaven for the prosperity of their native country; and con- 
 templating with joy a flourishing condition of her agriculture, 
 manufactures, or commerce; in short, of the sources of her 
 wealth. Seneca's discourses in praise of poverty would, I have 
 no doubt, be rivalled by many writers of this island, if one half 
 of the revenues he drew from the then inhabitants of it, by 
 lending them money at high interest, were proposed as a prize. 
 Such declaimers against wealth resemble the Harpies of Virgil, 
 seeking to excite disgust at the banquet of which they are 
 themselves eager to partake/ 
 
 ' Have no abstract or friarly contempt of them' 
 
 The goods of this world are not at all a trifling concern to 
 Christians, considered as Christians. Whether, indeed, we 
 ourselves shall have enjoyed a large or a small share of them, 
 will be of no importance to us a hundred years hence ; but it 
 will be of the greatest importance whether we shall have em- 
 ployed the faculties and opportunities granted to us, in the 
 increase and diffusion of those benefits among others. For, in 
 regard to wealth, as well as all those objects which the great 
 moralist of antiquity places in the class of things good in them- 
 selves, (arrXwe ayaOd), more depends, as he himself remarks, 1 
 on the use we make of these bounties of Providence, than on 
 the advantages themselves. They are, in themselves, goods; 
 and it is our part, instead of affecting ungratefully to slight or 
 to complain of God's gifts, to endeavour to make them goods 
 to us (hfuv ayaOd), by studying to use them aright, and to 
 promote, through them, the best interests of ourselves and our 
 fellow-creatures. Every situation in which Man can be placed 
 has, along with its own peculiar advantages, its own peculiar 
 
 1 Arist. Mh. b. v. c. 3.
 
 Essay xxxiv.] Annotations. 30,9 
 
 difficulties and trials also ; which we are called on to exert our 
 faculties in providing against. The most fertile soil does not 
 necessarily bear the most abundant harvest ; its weeds, if 
 neglected, will grow the rankest. And the servant who has 
 received but one talent, if he put it out to use, will fare better 
 than he who has been intrusted with five, if he squander or 
 bury them. But still, this last does not suffer because he 
 received five talents; but because he has not used them to 
 advantage/
 
 ESSAY XXXV. OF PEOPHECIES. 
 
 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 1 to Saul, ' To-morrow thou and thy sons 
 shall be with me/ 2 Virgil hath these verses from Homer : 
 
 'At domus uEneae cunctis dominabitur oris, 
 Et nati natorum, et qui nascentur ab illis;' 3 
 
 a prophecy, as it seems, of the Roman empire. Seueca the 
 tragedian hath these verses : 
 
 ' Venient annis 
 Ssecula sens, quibus Oceanus 
 Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens 
 Pateat tellus, Tiphysque novos 
 Detegat orbes ; nee sit terris 
 Ultima Thule :' 4 
 
 a prophecy of the discovery of America. The daughter of 
 Polycrates dreamed that Jupiter bathed her father, and Apollo 
 anointed him ; and it came to pass that he was crucified in an 
 open place, where the sun made his body run with sweat, and 
 the rain washed it. 5 Philip of Macedon 6 dreamed he sealed up 
 his wife's belly ; whereby he did expound it, that his wife 
 should be barren ; but Aristander the soothsayer told him his 
 wife was with child, because men do not use to seal vessels that 
 are empty. A phantom that appeared to M. Brutus in his 
 tent, said to him, 'Philippis iterum me videbis/ 7 Tiberius 
 said to Galba, ' Tu quoque, Galba, degustabis imperium/ 8 In 
 Vespasian's time there went a prophecy in the East, that those 
 that should come forth of Judea should reign over the world ; 
 which, though it may be was meant of our Saviour, yet Tacitus 
 
 1 Pythonissa. Pythoness. J i Sam. xxviii. 19. 
 
 3 ' Over every shore the house of JEneas shall reign ; his children's children, and 
 their posterity likewise.' Mneid, iii. 97. 
 
 4 ' There shall come a time, in later ages, when Ocean shall relax his chains, and 
 a vast continent appear j and a pilot shall find new worlds, and Thule shall be no 
 more earth's bound.' Sen. Med. xi. 375- 
 
 4 Hesiod, iii. 24. 6 Pint. Vit. Alexan. 2. 
 
 7 'Thou shalt see me again at Philippi.' Appian, Sell. Civ. iv. 134. 
 
 8 ' Thou, also, Galba, shalt taste of empire.' Stat. Tit. Galba.
 
 Essay xxxv.] Of Prophecies. 401 
 
 expounds it of Vespasian. 1 Domitian dreamed, the night before 
 he was slain, that a golden head was growing out of the nape 
 of his neck; 2 and, indeed, the succession that followed him, 
 for many years, made golden times. Henry VI. of England 
 said of Henry VII. 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. Pena, 
 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 liempe 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 b.e to 
 God, is verified in the change of the name, for the king's style 
 is now no more of England, but of Britain. There was also 
 another prophecy before the year of eighty-eight, which I do 
 not well understand : 
 
 ' There shall be seen upon a day, 
 Between the Baugh 3 and the May, 
 The Black fleet of Norway. 
 When that is come and gone, 
 England build houses of lime and stone, 
 For after wars shall you have none.' 
 
 It was generally conceived to be meant of the Spanish fleet that 
 came in eighty-eight ; for that the king of Spain's surname, as 
 they say, is Norway. The prediction of Regioraontanus, 
 
 'Octogesimus octavus mirabilis annus;' 4 
 
 was thought likewise accomplished in the sending of that great 
 
 1 Tacit. Hist. v. 13. * Suet - Vit - Domit. 23. 
 
 3 Baugh. Sough (probably). 4 ' Eighty-eight, a wonderful year.' 
 
 D D
 
 4OZ Of Prophecies. [Essay xxxv. 
 
 fleet, being the greatest in strength, though not in number, of 
 all that ever swam upon the sea. As for Cleon's dream, 1 I 
 think it was a jest it was, that he was devoured of 2 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, cousisteth 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 con- 
 jectures, or obscure traditions, many times turn themselves into 
 prophecies : while the nature of Man, which coveteth divination, 
 thinks it no peril to foretell that which indeed they do but 
 collect, as that of Seneca's verse ; for so much was then subject 
 to demonstration, that the globe of the earth had great parts 
 beyond the Atlantic, which might be probably conceived not to 
 be all sea, and adding thereto the tradition in Plato's Timceus 
 and his Atlanticus, 3 it might encourage one to turn it to a pre- 
 diction. The third and last, which is the great one, is, that 
 almost all of them, being infinite in number, have been impos- 
 tures, and by idle and crafty brains, merely contrived and 
 feigned, after the event past. 
 
 1 ArSstopb. Equit. 195. 
 
 2 Of. By. 'Lest a more honourable man thanthou be biddeno/'him.' Luke xiv. 8. 
 
 3 Critias.
 
 Essay xxxv.] Annotations. 403 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' The spreading or publishing of them is in no sort to be despised ; 
 for they have done much mischief.' 
 
 A political prediction, publicly uttered, will often have had, 
 or be supposed to have had, a great share in bringing about its 
 own fulfilment. Accordingly, when a law is actually passed, 
 and there is no reasonable hope of its repeal, we should be very 
 cautious in publicly uttering predictions of dangers and discon- 
 tents, lest we should thus become the means of engendering or 
 aggravating them. He who gives out, for instance, that the 
 people will certainly be dissatisfied with such and such a law, 
 is in this doing his utmost to make them dissatisfied. And 
 this being the case in all unfavourable, as well as favourable, 
 predictions, some men lose their deserved credit for political 
 sagacity, through their fear of contributing to produce the evils 
 they apprehend ; while others, again, contribute to evil results 
 by their incapacity to keep their anticipations locked up in their 
 own bosoms, and by their dread of not obtaining deserved 
 credit. It would be desirable to provide for such men a relief 
 like that which the servant of King Midas found; due care, 
 however, being taken that there should be no whispering reeds 
 to divulge it. 
 
 In another ' New Atlantis/ entitled An Expedition to the 
 Interior of New Holland, 1 a Prediction-office is supposed to exist 
 in several of the States ; namely, an establishment consisting of 
 two or three inspectors, and a few clerks, appointed to receive 
 from any one, on payment of a trifling fee, any sealed-up pre- 
 diction, to be opened at a time specified by the party himself. 
 His name is to be signed to the prediction within ; and on the 
 outer cover is inscribed the date of its delivery, and the time 
 when the seal is to be broken. There is no pretence made 
 to supernatural prophetic powers; only to supposed political 
 sagacity. 
 
 1 Published by Bentley. 
 D D 2
 
 404 Of Prophecies. [Essay xxxv. 
 
 Unless in some case in which very remarkable sagacity has 
 been evinced, the predictions are not made public. But pre- 
 viously to the appointment of any of the authors to any public 
 office, the inspectors are bound to look over their register, and 
 produce, as a set-off against a candidate's claims, any unsuc- 
 cessful prediction he may have made. Many a man there is to 
 whom important public trusts are committed, who, wherever 
 such an institution had been established, would be found to 
 have formally recorded, under the influence of self-conceit, his 
 own incapacity. 
 
 ' Probable conjectures many times turn themselves into 
 prophecies.' 
 
 Yet there have been some which will hardly admit of this 
 explanation. Such is that concerning the Empress Josephine, 
 which is said to be well-attested. She had her fortune told, it 
 is said, in the West Indies, when a girl, by an Obi-woman (as 
 the negroes call them), who told her that she would rise to be 
 greater than a queen, but would die in an hospital. After her 
 divorce, she lived and died at Malmaison, a house which had 
 formerly been an hospital. 
 
 ' Men mark when they hit, and never mark when they miss' 
 
 This remark, as well as the proverb, ' What is hit is history ; 
 what is missed is mystery/ would admit of much generalization. 
 The most general statement would be nearly that of the law- 
 maxim, 'De non apparentibus et non existentibus, eadem est 
 ratio/ for in all matters, men are apt to treat as altogether 
 non-existent, whatever does not come under their knowledge or 
 notice. 
 
 No doubt, if all the pocket-books now existing could be 
 inspected, some thousands of memoranda would be found of 
 dreams, visions, omens, presentiments, &c., kept to observe 
 whether they are fulfilled ; and when one is, out of some 
 hundreds of thousands, this is recorded ; the rest being never 
 heard of. So Bion, when shown the votive offerings of those 
 who had been saved from, shipwreck, asked, ' Where are the 
 records of those who were drowned in spite of their vows?'
 
 Essay xxxv.] Annotations. 405 
 
 Mr. Senior has remarked in his Lectures on Political Economy, 
 that the sacrifice of vast wealth, on the part of a whole people, 
 for the gain and that, comparatively, a trifling gain of a hand- 
 ful of monopolists, is often submitted to patiently, 1 from the 
 gain being concentrated and the loss diffused. But this would 
 not have occurred so often as it has, were it not that this 
 diffusion of the loss causes its existence that is, its existence as 
 a loss so incurred to be unperceived. If a million of persons 
 are each virtually taxed half-a-crown a year in the increased 
 price of some article, through the prohibition of free-trade, per- 
 haps not above a shilling of this goes to those who profit by the 
 monopoly. But this million of shillings, amounting to 50,000 
 per annum, is divided, perhaps, among fifty persons, who clearly 
 perceive whence their revenue is derived; and who, when an 
 income of 1000 is at stake, will combine together, and use 
 every effort and artifice to keep up the monopoly. The losers, 
 on the other hand, not only have, each, much less at stake, but 
 are usually ignorant that they do lose by this monopoly; else 
 they would not readily submit to pay half-a-crown, or even one 
 shilling, as a direct pension to fifty men who had no claim on 
 them. 
 
 Again, an English gentleman who lives on his estate, is con- 
 sidered as a public benefactor, not only by exerting himself if 
 he does so in promoting sound religion, and pure morality, and 
 useful knowledge, in his neighbourhood, but also because his 
 income is spent in furnishing employment to his neighbours, 
 as domestics, and bakers, and carpenters, &c. If he removes 
 and resides in France, his income is, in fact, spent on English 
 cutlers and clothiers ; since it is their products that are exported 
 to France, and virtually exchanged though in a slightly cir- 
 cuitous way, for the services of French domestics, bakers, and 
 carpenters. But the Sheffield cutlers are not aware even of his 
 existence ; while the neighbours of the resident proprietor trace 
 distinctly to him the profits they derive from him. 
 
 Again, one who unprofitably consumes in feasts, and fire- 
 works, and fancy-gardens, &c., the labour of many men, is re- 
 garded as a public benefactor, in furnishing employment to so 
 many; though it is plain, that all unproductive consumption 
 
 1 See 'Annotations' on Essay XXIII.
 
 406 Of Prophecies. [Essay xxxv. 
 
 diminishes by just so much the wealth of the country. He, 
 on the contrary, who hoards up his money as a miser, is abused ; 
 though in fact he is (though without any such design) contri- 
 buting to the public wealth, by lending at interest all he saves ; 
 which finds its way, directly or indirectly, to canals, commerce, 
 manufactures, and other productive courses of expenditure. But 
 this benefit to the Public no one can trace ; any more than we 
 can trace each of the drops of rain that find their way into the 
 sea. On the other, hand, the advantage to the individuals to 
 whom the other is a customer, they distinctly trace to him. 
 
 Again, the increased knowledge of ' accidents and offences/ 
 conveyed through newspapers, in a civilized country, leads some 
 to fancy that these evils occur more frequently, because they 
 hear of them more, than in times of ' primitive simplicity/ But 
 ' there are no more particles of dust in the sun-beam than in 
 the rest of the room ; though we see them better/ 
 
 All these, and a multitude of other cases, come under the 
 general formula above stated: the tendency to overrate the 
 amount of whatever is seen and known, as compared with what 
 is unknown, or less known, unseen, and indefinite. 
 
 Under this head will come the general tendency to under- 
 rate the preventive effects of any measure or system, whether 
 for good or for evil. E. g. in the prevention of crime, it is 
 plain that every instance of a crime committed, and of a penalty 
 actually inflicted, is an instance of failure in the object for 
 which penalties were denounced. We see the crimes that do 
 take place, and the punishments ; we do not see the crimes that 
 would be committed if punishment were abolished.
 
 ESSAY XXXYI. OF AMBITION. 
 
 A MBITION is like choler, which is a humour that maketh 
 -1A- men active, earnest, full of alacrity, and stirring, if it be 
 not stopped ; but if it be stopped, and cannot have its way, it 
 becometh adust, 1 and thereby malign and venomous; so am- 
 bitious 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, 2 
 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 pro- 
 gressive and not retrograde ; which, because it cannot be with- 
 out inconvenience, it is good not to use such natures at all ; for 
 if they rise not with their service, they will take order 3 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 to 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 4 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 5 dove, that mounts and mounts, 
 
 1 Adust. Fiery. 
 
 ' The same adust complexion has impelled 
 
 Charles to the convent, Philip to the field.' Pope. 
 3 Discontent. Discontented. 
 
 ' For e'en with goodness men grow ditcontent, 
 Where states are ripe to fall, and virtue spent.' Daniel. 
 
 3 Order. Measures. 
 
 ' While I take order for mine own affairs.' Shakespere. 
 
 4 Dispense with. To excuse. 
 
 To save a brother's life, 
 Nature dispenseth with the deed.' 
 
 * Seel. To seal up the eyes; to hoodwink; to blind. (A term of falconry.) 
 ' To seel her father's eyes up, close as oak.' Shakespere.
 
 408 Of Ambition. [Essay xxxvi. 
 
 because he cannot see about him. There is use also of am- 
 bitious men in pulling down the greatness of any subject that 
 overtops; as Tiberius used Macro in the pulling down of 
 Sejanus. Since, therefore, they must be used in such cases, 
 there resteth 1 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 2 and fortified in their 
 greatness. It is counted by some a weakness in princes to have 
 favourites, but it is, of all others, the best remedy against 
 ambitious great ones; for when the way of pleasuring 3 and 
 displeasuring 4 lieth by the favourite, it is impossible any other 
 should be over great. Another means to curb them, is to 
 balance them by others as proud as they ; but then there must 
 be some middle counsellors to keep things steady, for without 
 that ballast, the ship will roll too much. At the least, a prince 
 may animate and inure 5 some meaner persons to be scourges to 
 ambitious men. As for the having of them obnoxious 6 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 favours and 
 
 1 Rest. To remain. 
 
 ' Fallen he is ; and now 
 What rests but that the mortal sentence pass 
 On his transgression.' Milton. 
 
 2 Cunning. Experienced; skilful, ' Esau was a cunning hunter.' Gen, xxv. 27. 
 
 3 Pleasure (not used as a verb). To please; to gratify. 'Promising both to 
 give him cattle, and to pleasure him otherwise.' 2 Maccabees xii. n. 
 
 ' Nay, the birds' rural music, too, 
 Is as melodious and as free 
 As if they sang to pleasure you.' Cowley. 
 * Displeasure. To displease. 
 
 6 Inure. To make use of. (From an old word 'ure.') 'Is the warrant 
 sufficient for any man's conscience to build such proceedings upon, as are and have 
 been put in ure for the establishment of that cause?' Hooker. 
 6 Obnoxious. Liable to; in peril of; subject to. 
 
 ' But what will not ambition and revenge 
 Descend to ? Who aspires, must down as low 
 As high he soar'd ; obnoxious, first or last, 
 To basest things.' Milton.
 
 Essay xxxvi.] Annotation. 409 
 
 disgraces, 1 whereby they may not know what to expect, and be, 
 as it were, in a wood. Of ambitious, 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 dependencies. 3 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 cyphers, is the decay of a whole age. 
 
 Honour hath three things in it ; the vantage ground to do 
 good, the approach to kings and principal persons, and the 
 raising of a man's own fortunes. He that hath the best of 
 these intentions, when he aspireth, is an honest man ; and that 
 prince that can discern of these intentions in another that 
 aspireth, is a wise prince. Generally, let princes and States 
 chuse such ministers as are more sensible of duty than of 
 rising, and such as love business rather ,upon conscience than 
 upon bravery; 4 and let them discern a busy nature from a 
 willing mind. 
 
 ANNOTATION. 
 
 ' The vantage-ground to do good' 
 
 Ambition, meaning a desire to occupy a high station for which 
 one thinks himself fit, is not, in itself, anything bad. But 
 its excess being thought much more common, and being cer- 
 tainly much more conspicuous, than a deficiency, and having 
 done so much mischief in the world hence, ambition is com- 
 monly regarded as a mere evil. And if all men were both 
 infallible judges of their own, and of other men's qualifications, 
 
 1 Disgraces. Acts of unkindness; repulses. 'Her disgraces to him were 
 graced by her excellence.' Sir Philip Sidney. 
 
 2 Harmful. Hurtful. See page 91. 
 
 3 Dependencies. Things or persons under command, or at disposal. ' The 
 second natural division of power, is of such men who have acquired large posses- 
 sions, and consequently, dependencies' Swift. 
 
 4 Bravery. Ostentation; parade. 
 
 'The bravery of his grief did put me into a towering passion.' Shalcespere.
 
 410 Of Ambition. [Essay xxxvi. 
 
 and also completely devoted to the public good, and utterly 
 regardless of personal inconvenience and toil, it would be well 
 that there should be no such thing as ambition. But as things 
 are, an excessive dread of indulging ambition, or of being sus- 
 pected of it, may keep back some from acting a great and useful 
 part for which they were well fitted. Thus, some have thought 
 that it would have been well for America if Washington had 
 had enough ambition to have made himself perpetual President, 
 and established the office as hereditary.
 
 ESSAY XXXVII. OF MASQUES 1 AND' 
 TRIUMPHS. 2 
 
 HPHESE things are but toys to come amongst such serious 
 -I- observations ; but yet, since princes will have such things, 
 it is better they should be graced with elegancy, 3 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 4 
 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 5 be strong and manly (a bass and a tenor, no treble), 
 and the ditty high and tragical, not nice 6 or dainty. 7 Several 
 quires placed one over against another, and taking the voice 
 by catches, anthem-wise, 8 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 na- 
 turally take the sense, and not respect petty wonderments. 9 
 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 
 
 1 Masque. A dramatic performance on festive occasions. ' Comus. A masque 
 presented at Ludlow Castle, 1634.' 
 
 2 Triumphs. Public shows. 
 
 ' What news from Oxford ? Hold those justs and triumphs !' ShaJcespere. 
 
 3 Elegancy. Elegance. ' St. Augustine, out of a kind of elegancy in writing, 
 makes some difference.' Saleigh. 
 
 4 Ditty. A poem to be sung. (Now only used in burlesque.) 
 
 ' Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, 
 Tempered to the oaten flute.' Milton. 
 6 Would. Should. See page 352. 
 
 6 Nice. Minutely accurate. 
 
 ' The letter was not nice, but full of charge 
 Of dear import.' Shakespere. 
 
 7 Dainty. Affectedly fine. 
 
 ' Your dainty speakers have the curse, 
 To plead bad causes down to worse.' Prior. 
 
 8 Wise. Ways ; manner or mode. (Seldom now used as a simple word.) 
 
 ' This song she sings in most commanding wise.' Spenser. 
 
 9 Wonderment. Astonishment; surprise. 
 
 ' Ravished with Fancy's wonderment.' Spenser.
 
 412 Of Masques and Triumphs. [Essay xxxvii. 
 
 the scenes abound with light, especially coloured 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 1 it cannot perfectly 
 discern. Let the songs be loud and cheerful, and not chirpings 
 or pulings ;" let the music likewise be sharp and loud, and well 
 placed. The colours that show best by candle-light are white, 
 carnation, and a kind of sea-water green ; and ouches, 3 or 
 spangs, 4 as they are of no great cost, so they are of most glory. 5 
 As for rich embroidery, it is lost and not discerned. Let the 
 suits of the masquers be graceful, and such as become the 
 person when the vizards 6 are off, not after examples of known 
 attires, Turks, soldiers, mariners, and the like. Let anti- 
 masques 7 not be long ; they have been commonly of fools, satyrs, 
 baboons, wild men, antics, 8 beasts, sprites, 9 witches, jEthiopes, 10 
 
 1 That. What. See page 82. 
 
 2 Puling. Whining. 
 
 ' To speak puling, like a beggar at Halimass.' Shakespere. 
 
 3 Ouches. Ornaments of gold in which jewels may be set. 'Thou shalt make 
 the two stones to be set in ouches of gold.' Exodus xxviii. n. 
 
 4 Spangs. Spangles. 
 
 ' A vesture sprinkled, here and there, 
 
 With glittering spangs that did like stars appere.' Spenser. 
 * Glory. Lustre. 
 
 ' The moon, serene in glory.' Pope. 
 
 6 Vizard Visor. A mask used to disguise. 'A lie is like a vizard, that may 
 cover the face, indeed, but can never become it.' South. 
 
 7 Anti-masques. Short masques, or light interludes, played between the parts 
 of the principal masques. 
 
 8 Antics. Buffoons. 
 
 ' If you should smile, he grows impatient, 
 Fear not, my Lord ; we can contain ourselves, 
 Were he the veriest antick in the world.' Shakespere. 
 
 ' Within the hollow crown 
 That rounds the mortal temples of a king 
 Keeps Death his court : and there the antick sits, 
 Scoffing his state.' Shakespere. 
 
 9 Sprites. Spirits. 
 
 ' And forth he call'd out of deep darkness drear 
 
 Legions of sprites.' Spenser. 
 1 Of these am I who thy protection claim, 
 
 A watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name.' Pope. 
 10 Ethiops. Ethiopians ; blacks. 
 
 ' Since her time colliers are counted fair, 
 
 And Ethiops of their sweet complexion crack.' Shakespere.
 
 Essay xxxvii.] Annotation. 413 
 
 pigmies, turquets, 1 nymphs, rustics, Cupids, statues moving, and 
 the like. As for angels, it is not comical 2 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 
 odours 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, 3 and barriers, the glories 4 of them 
 are chiefly in the chariots, wherein the challengers make their 
 entry, especially if they be drawn with strange beasts, as lions, 
 bears, camels, and the like ; or, in the devices of their entrance, 
 or in bravery 5 of their liveries, or in the goodly furniture of 
 their horses and armour. But enough of these toys. 
 
 ANNOTATION. 
 
 ( These things are but toys . . . ' 
 
 Bacon seems to think some kind of apology necessary for 
 treating of matters of this kind in the midst of grave treatises. 
 But his taste seems to have lain a good deal this way. He is 
 reported to have always shown a great fondness for splendour 
 and pageantry, and everything that could catch the eye, and 
 
 1 Turquets. (Probably) Turks. 
 
 2 Comical. Comic. 
 
 3 Tourneys. Tournaments. 
 
 ' Not but the mode of that romantic age, 
 The age of tourneys, triumphs, and quaint masques, 
 Glared with fantastic pageantry which dimmed 
 The sober eye of truth, and dazzled e'en 
 The sage himself.' Mason. 
 
 4 Glory. Splendour ; magnificence. ' Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed 
 like one of these.' Matthew. 
 
 5 Bravery. Finery. ' In that day the Lord will take away the bravery of their 
 tinkling ornaments about their feet.' Isaiah iii. 1 8. 
 
 ' A stately ship, with all her bravery on, 
 And tackle trim.' Milton.
 
 414 Of Masques and Triumphs. [Essay xxxvii. 
 
 make a display of wealth and magnificence. This may be 
 accounted, in such a great philosopher, something frivolous. It 
 is worth remarking that the term ' frivolous' is always applied 
 (by those who use language with care and correctness) to a great 
 interest shown about things that are little to the person in ques- 
 tion. For, little and great, trifling or important, are relative 
 terms. If a grown man or woman were to be occupied with a 
 doll, this would be called excessively frivolous ; but no one calls 
 a little girl frivolous for playing with a doll.
 
 ESSAY XXXVIII. OF NATURE IN MEN. 
 
 ATATURE is often hidden, sometimes overcome, seldom ex- 
 -L 1 tinguished. Force maketh nature more violent in the 
 return ; doctrine and discourse maketh nature less importune ; l 
 but custom only doth alter and subdue nature. He that seeketh 
 victory over his nature, let him not set himself too great nor 
 too small tasks ; for the first will make him dejected by often 
 failing, and the second will make him a small proceeder, though 
 by often prevailing. 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, Isedentia pectus 
 VLncula qui rupit, dedoluitque semel.' 2 
 
 Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend nature as a wand, to 
 a contrary extreme, whereby to set it right ; understanding it 
 where the contrary extreme is no vice. Let not a man force a 
 habit upon himself with a perpetual continuance, but with some 
 intermission, for both the pause 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 
 intermission. But let not a man trust his victory over his nature 
 too far, for nature will lie buried a great time, and yet revive 
 upon the occasion or temptation ; like as it was with ^Esop's 
 
 1 Importune. Importunate ; troublesome. See page 104.' 
 
 2 ' He is the best assertor of the soul, who bursts the bonds that gall his breast, 
 and suffers all, at once/ Ovid, E. Amor. 293.
 
 4i 6 Of Nature in Men. [Essay xxxviii. 
 
 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, 1 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 2 
 with their vocations ; 3 otherwise they may say, ( Multum incola 
 fuit anima mea,' 4 when they converse 5 in those things they do 
 not affect. 6 In studies, whatsoever a man commaudeth 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. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON NATURE IN MEN. 
 
 PSO. CONTEA. 
 
 ' Consuetudo contra naturam, quasi ' Cogitamus secundum naturam ; lo- 
 
 tyrannis qusedam est j et cito, ac levi quimur secundum prsecepta ; sed agimus 
 
 occasione corruit. secundum consuetudinem. 
 
 ' Custom, when contrary to nature, ' We think according to our nature ; 
 
 is a kind of usurpation over it ; and is we speak according to instruction ; but 
 
 quickly overthrown on the most trifling we act according to custom.' 
 
 1 Privateness. Privacy. See page 115. 3 Sort. Suit. See page 8l. 
 
 3 Vocation. Calling in life. See page 23. 
 
 4 ' My soul has been long a sojourner.' 
 
 5 Converse. To have one's way of life in. See ' Conversation/ page 299. ' Let 
 your conversation be as becometh the Gospel of Christ.' Phil. i. 27. 
 
 ' Octavia is of a holy and still conversation.' Shakespere. 
 
 6 Affect. To like. 
 
 ' Dost thou affect her ?' Shakespere.
 
 Essay xxxviii.] Annotations. 417 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend Nature as a wand, 
 to the contrary extreme, whereby to set it right. 3 
 
 This 'ancient rule' 1 needs to be qualified by a caution 
 against ' bending the wand' too far : an error sometimes 
 committed by well-intentioned persons. If A. confesses, and 
 with truth, that he is conscious of a natural tendency 
 towards parsimony, and B. that his natural leaning is 
 towards careless prodigality, it is yet possible we may find, 
 in practice, greatly to the astonishment of some that A. 
 errs, when he does err, generally on the side of profusion, 
 and B. on that of parsimony; each having guarded exclusively 
 against a danger on one side, and thinking that he cannot go 
 too far the other way. So, also, one who is excessively in dread 
 of over-deference for some highly-esteemed and venerated friend, 
 may, perhaps, in practice, ' bend the wand' too far the other 
 way. His veneration will then be theoretical and general; 
 while, practically, and in almost every particular instance, he 
 will be cherishing, as a matter of duty, a strong prejudice 
 against every proposal, decision, measure, institution, person, 
 or thing, that his friend approves. 
 
 I have noticed in the ' Annotations' on Essay VI. a like error, 
 in carrying to a faulty excess the endeavour to repress all ill 
 feelings towards one who has injured one's self: the error, 
 namely, of breaking down, in his favour, the boundaries of 
 right and wrong, and treating a man as blameless or laudable, 
 because it is to us he has done a wrong. 
 
 ' A man's nature is best perceived in privateness ; . ... in 
 passion ...... and in a new case or experiment.' 
 
 To this excellent list of things that show nature, Bacon 
 might have added, in small things rather than great. ' A straw 
 best shows how the wind blows.' The most ordinary and un- 
 important actions of a man's life will often show more of his 
 natural character and his habits, than more important actions 
 
 1 Aristotle's : see Mh. Nicom. b. ii. 
 E
 
 418 Of Nature in Men. [Essay xxxviii. 
 
 which are done deliberately, and sometimes against his natural 
 inclinations. 
 
 On this is founded the art which many persons (the majority 
 of them probably empty pretenders) now practise, called by 
 some ' Graptomancy' the judging of character from hand- 
 writing. Amidst much delusion and quackery, it is certain 
 that some persons do possess a gift by which they have made 
 some wonderful hits. And to those who deride the whole 
 matter as absurd, it may easily be proved not only that there 
 is something in it, but that they themselves think so. For, all 
 are accustomed to speak of a f man's hand ' and a ' woman's : ' 
 and it is plain the difference must depend on something mental ; 
 since there is no call for muscular strength. Almost all, 
 again, speak of a ' genteel ' and a ' vulgar ' hand-writing. There 
 is, however (as was justly remarked by the late Bishop Cople- 
 ston), no greater indication of character in a man's way of 
 writing, than in his way of walking, or of wiping his face, &c. 
 But the difference is, that, in all the other ordinary actions, 
 the observation of manner is only momentary; whereas, in 
 writing, there is a permanent record of it, which may be 
 examined at leisure. 
 
 ' A man's nature runs either to herbs or weeds : therefore let him 
 seasonably water the one and destroy the other' 
 
 There are some considerations with regard to human nature, 
 unnoticed by Bacon, which are very important, as involving the 
 absolute necessity of great watchfulness, candour, and diligence, 
 in those who would, indeed, desire to ' destroy the weeds/ 
 Human nature (as I have observed in a former work) is always 
 and everywhere, in the most important points, substantially the 
 same; circumstantially and externally, men's manners and 
 conduct are infinitely various in various times and regions. If 
 the former were not true, if it were not for this fundamental 
 agreement, history could furnish no instruction ; if the latter 
 were not true, if there were not these apparent and circum- 
 stantial differences, hardly any one could fail to profit by that 
 instruction. For, few are so dull as not to learn something 
 from the records of past experience in cases precisely similar to 
 their own. But as it is, much candour and diligence are called
 
 Essay xxxviii.] Annotations. 419 
 
 for in tracing the analogy between cases which, at the first 
 glance, seem very different in observing the workings of the 
 same human nature under all its various disguises, in recog- 
 nizing, as it were, the same plant in different stages of its 
 growth, and in all the varieties resulting from climate and culture, 
 soil and season. For, so far as any fault or folly is peculiar to 
 any particular age or country, its effects may be expected to pass 
 away soon, without spreading very widely; but so far as it 
 belongs to human nature in general, we must expect to find the 
 evil effects of it reappearing, again and again, in various forms, 
 in all ages, and in various regions. Plants brought from a 
 foreign land, and cultivated by human care, may often be, by 
 human care, extirpated, or may even perish for want of care; 
 but the indigenous product of the soil, even when seemingly 
 eradicated, will again and again be found springing up afresh : 
 
 ' Sponte sua quse se tollunt in luminis oras 
 Infecunda quidem, sed laeta et fortia surgunt, 
 Quippe solo natura subest.' 
 
 If we would be really safe from the danger of committing 
 faults of a like character with those which we regard with 
 abhorrence in men removed from us either by time or place, we 
 must seek that safety in a vigilant suspicion of the human heart. 
 We can be secured from the recurrence of similar faults in some 
 different shapes, only by the sedulous cultivation of that Chris- 
 tian spirit, whose implantation is able to purify, to renovate, to 
 convert that nature in short, to 'ORE ATE THE NEW MAN/ 
 Christian principle only can overthrow the ' idols of the race ' 
 (idola tribus), as Bacon elsewhere calls them ; the errors spring- 
 ing out of man's nature. 1 
 
 See Essays, 3rd series. 
 
 E E 1
 
 ESSAY XXXIX. 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 1 as 2 they have 
 been accustomed : and, therefore, as Machiavel well noteth 
 (though in an evil-favoured instance), there is no trusting to the 
 force of nature, nor to the bravery of words, except it be corro- 
 borate 3 by custom. His instance is, that for the achieving of 
 a desperate conspiracy, a man should not rest upon the fierce- 
 ness of any man's nature, or his resolute undertakings, but take 
 such a 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 4 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 5 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 stack 
 of wood, and so sacrifice themselves by fire : nay, the wives 
 
 1 After. According to. ' That ye seek not after your own heart.' Num. xv. 39. 
 ' He who was of the bondwoman was born after the flesh/ Gal. iv. 23. 'Deal 
 not with us after our sins.' Litany. 
 
 2 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 3 Corroborate. Corroborated; strengthened; made firm. 
 
 ' His heart is corroborate.' Shakespere. 
 
 4 Nor are not. This double negative is used frequently by old writers. 
 
 ' Nor to no Roman else.' Shakespere. 
 ' Another sort there be, that will 
 Be talking of the fairies still, 
 Nor never can they have their fill.' -Drayton. 
 4 Votary. Consecrated by a vow.
 
 Essay xxxix.] Of Custom and Education. 421 
 
 strive to be burned with the corpse of their husbands. The 
 lads of Sparta/ of ancient time, were wont to be scourged upon 
 the altar of Diana, without so much as queching. 2 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, 3 and not in a 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 magis- 
 trate of man's life, let men by all means endeavour to obtain good 
 customs. Certainly, custom is most perfect when it beginneth 
 in young years : this we call education ; which is, in effect, but an 
 early custom. So we see in languages, the tone is more pliant to 
 all expressions and sounds, the joints are more supple to all feats 
 of activity and motions, in youth than afterwards ; for it is true, 
 the late learners cannot so well take up the ply, except it be in 
 some minds, that have not suffered themselves to fix, but have 
 kept themselves open and prepared to receive continual amend- 
 ment, 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, 4 emulation quickeneth, glory 
 raiseth; so as in such places the force of custom is in his* 
 exaltation. Certainly, the great multiplication 6 of virtues upon 
 human nature resteth upon societies well ordained and dis- 
 
 1 Cic. Tuscul. Dial. ii. 14. 
 
 2 Quech (properly quich). To mote ; to stir. 
 
 1 Underre her feet, there as she sate, 
 An huge great lyon laye, that mote appalle 
 An hardy courage ; like captived thrall 
 With a strong iron chain and collar bounde 
 Not once he could nor move nor quick.' Spenser. 
 
 3 Withs. Twigs, or bands of twigs. ' If they bind me with seven green with, 
 then shall I be weak. 5 Judges xvi. 7. 
 
 4 Comfort. To strengthen as an auxiliary ; to help. (The meaning of the 
 original Latin word, Conforto.) 'Now we exhort you brethren, comfort the feeble- 
 minded.' i Thess. v. 14. 
 
 5 His. Its. ' But God giveth it a body as it hath pleased Him, and to every 
 seed his own body.' i Cor. xv. 38. 
 
 6 Multiplication upon. ' Increase and multiply upon us thy mercy.' Collect for 
 the <th Sunday after Trinity.
 
 422 Of Custom and Education. [Essay xxxix. 
 
 ciplined ; for commonwealths and good governments do nourish 
 virtue grown, but do not much mend the seeds : but the misery 
 is, that the most effectual means are now applied to the ends 
 least to be desired. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' 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' 
 
 This remark, like many others, Bacon has condensed in 
 Latin into the very brief and pithy apophthegm which I have 
 given in the ' Antitheta on Nature in Men/ ' Cogitamus 
 secundum naturam ; loquimur secundum praecepta ; sed agimus 
 secundum consuetudinem.' Of course, Bacon did not mean his 
 words to be taken literally in their utmost extent, and without 
 any exception or modification ; as if natural disposition and 
 instruction had nothing to do with conduct. And, of course, 
 he could not mean anything so self- contradictory as to say 
 that all action is the result of custom : for it is plain that, 
 in the first instance, it must be by actions that a custom is 
 formed. 
 
 But he uses a strong expression, in order to impress it on 
 our mind that, for practice, custom is the most essential thing, 
 and that it will often overbear both the original disposition, and 
 the precepts which have been learnt : that whatever a man may 
 inwardly think, and (with perfect sincerity) say, you cannot 
 fully depend on his conduct till you know how he has been 
 accustomed to act. For, continued action is like a continued 
 stream of water, which wears for itself a channel that it will 
 not easily be turned from. The bed which the current had 
 gradually scooped at first, afterwards confines it. 
 
 Bacon is far from meaning, I conceive, when he says that 
 ' men speak as they have learned' to limit himself to the case 
 of insincere professions ; but to point out how much easier it 
 is to learn to repeat a lesson correctly, than to bring it into 
 practice, when custom is opposed to it.
 
 Essay xxxix.] Annotations. 423 
 
 This is the doctrine of one whom Bacon did not certainly 
 regard with any undue veneration Aristotle; who, in his Ethics, 
 dwells earnestly on the importance of being early accustomed to 
 right practice, with a view to the formation of virtuous habits. 
 And he derives the word ' ethics' from a Greek word signifying 
 custom ; even as the word ' morality' is derived from the cor- 
 responding Latin word ' mos.' 
 
 It is to be observed that, at the present day, it is common to 
 use the words ' custom' and ' habit' as synonymous, and often 
 to employ the latter where Bacon would have used the former. 
 But, strictly speaking, they denote respectively the cause and 
 the effect. Repeated acts constitute the ' custom ;' and the 
 ' habit' is the condition of mind or body thence resulting. For 
 instance, a man who has been accustomed to rise at a certain 
 hour, will have acquired the habit of waking and being ready to 
 rise as soon as that hour arrives. And one who has made it 
 his custom to drink drams will have fallen into the habit of 
 craving for that stimulus, and of yielding to that craving ; and 
 so of the rest. 
 
 Those are, then, in error who disparage (as Mrs. Hannah 
 More does) all practice that does not spring from a formed 
 habit. For instance, they censure those who employ children 
 as almoners, handing them money or other things to relieve the 
 poor with. For, say they, no one can give what is not his own : 
 there is no charity unless you part with something that you 
 might have kept, and which it is a self-denial to part with. The 
 answer is, that if the child does this readily and gladly, he has 
 already learnt the virtue of ^charity ; but if it is a painful self- 
 denial which you urge him to, as a duty, you are creating an 
 association of charity with pain. On the contrary, if you 
 accustom him to the pleasure of seeing distress relieved, and of 
 being the instrument of giving pleasure, and doing good, the 
 desire of this gratification will lead him, afterwards, to part with 
 something of his own rather than forego it. Thus it is to use 
 Horace's comparison that the young hound is trained for the 
 chase in the woods, from the time that he barks at the deer- 
 skin in the hall. 1 
 
 i Venations, ex quo 
 
 Tempore cervinam pellem latravit in aula, 
 
 Militat in silvis catulus.' Horace, Book i. ep. 2, 1. 65.
 
 424 Of Custom and Education. [Essay xxxix. 
 
 The precept is very good, to begin with swimming with corks. 
 
 There is an error somewhat akin to the one I have been com- 
 bating, which may be worth noticing here. Declamations are 
 current in the present day against the iniquity of giving a bias 
 to the minds of young persons, by teaching them our own inter- 
 pretation of the Sacred Volume, instead of leaving them to in- 
 vestigate for themselves ; that is, against endeavouring to place 
 them in the same situation with those to whom those very 
 Scriptures were written; instead of leaving them to struggle 
 with difficulties which the Scriptures nowhere contemplate or 
 provide against. The maintainers of such a principle would do 
 well to consider, whether it would not, if consistently pursued, 
 prove too much. Do you not, it might be asked, bias the minds 
 of children by putting into their hands the Scriptures themselves, 
 as the infallible word of God ? If you are convinced that they 
 are so, you must be sure that they will stand the test of un- 
 prejudiced inquiry. Are you not, at least, bound in fairness to 
 teach them, at the same time, the systems of ancient Mythology, 
 the doctrines of the Koran, and those of modern philosophers, 
 that they may freely chuse amongst all ? Let any one who 
 is disposed to deride the absurdity of such a proposal, consider 
 whether there is any objection to it, which would not equally 
 lie against the exclusion of systematic religious instruction, or 
 indeed systematic training in any science or art. 
 
 It is urged, however, that since a man must wish to find the 
 system true in which he has been trained, his judgment must be 
 unduly biassed by that wish. It would follow from this principle, 
 that no physician should be trusted who is not utterly indifferent 
 whether his patient recovers or dies, and who is not wholly free 
 from any favourable hope from the mode of treatment pursued ; 
 since else his mind must be unfairly influenced by his wishes ! 
 
 ' 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.' 
 
 This ' predominancy of custom' is remarkably exemplified in 
 the case of soldiers who have long been habituated to obey, as 
 if by a mechanical impulse, the word of command.
 
 Essay xxxix.] Annotations. 425 
 
 It happened, in the case of a contemplated insurrection, in a 
 certain part of the British Empire, that the plotters of it sought 
 to tamper with the soldiers who were likely to be called out 
 against them ; and, for this purpose, frequented the public- 
 houses to which the soldiers resorted, and drew them into con- 
 versation. Reports of these attempts reached the officers ; who, 
 however, found that so little impression was made, that they 
 did not think it needful to take any notice of them. On one 
 occasion it appeared that a sergeant of a Scotch regiment was 
 so far talked over as to feel and express great sympathy with 
 the agitators, on account of their alleged grievances, as laid be- 
 fore him by the seducer. ' Weel, now, I did na ken that ; 
 indeed that seems unco hard ; I can na wonder that ye should 
 complain o' that/ &c., &c. 
 
 The other, seeking to follow up his blow, then said ' I 
 suppose now such honest fellows as you, if you were to be 
 called out against us, when we were driven to rise in a good 
 cause, would never have the heart to fire on poor fellows who 
 were only seeking liberty and justice/ The sergeant replied 
 {just as he was reaching down his cap and belt, to return to 
 barracks), ' I'd just na advise ye to try I 3 
 
 He felt conscious misled as he had been respecting the. jus- 
 tice of the cause, that, whatever might be his private opinions 
 and inward feelings, if the word of command were given to 
 ' make ready, present, fire/ he should instinctively obey it. 
 
 And this is very much the case with any one who has been 
 long drilled in the ranks of a party. Whatever may be his 
 natural disposition whatever may be the judgment his unbiassed 
 understanding dictates on any point whatever he may inwardly 
 feel, and may (with perfect sincerity) have said, 1 it is most likely 
 that, when you come to action, the habit of going along with 
 his party will prevail. And the more general and indefinite the 
 purpose for which the party, or society (or by whatever name it 
 may be called) is framed, and the less distinctly specified are its 
 objects, the more will its members be, usually, under the con- 
 trol and direction of its leaders. 2 
 
 He who joins some Association formed for a distinctly defined 
 
 1 Thoughts on the Evangelical Alliance. 
 2 See the 'Annotations' on the Essay on 'Unity in Religion,' and on 'Factions.'
 
 O/ Custom and Education. [Essay xxxix. 
 
 object, and under fixed rules, is like one who engages in a com- 
 mercial speculation on the system of what is called ' limited lia- 
 bility;' where a man stakes nothing beyond what was expressly 
 stipulated. But he who joins a Party, resembles one who enters 
 into an ordinary Trade-partnership, and who becomes responsible 
 for all the proceedings, and all the debts, of the Firm. 
 
 I was once conversing with an intelligent and liberal-minded 
 man, who was expressing his strong disapprobation of some late 
 decisions and proceedings of the leading persons of the Body 
 he belonged to, and assuring me that the greater part of the 
 subordinates regarded them as wrong and unjustifiable. ' But/ 
 said I, ' they will nevertheless, I suppose, comply, and act as 
 they are required ?' ' Oh, yes, they must do that \' 
 
 Of course, there are many various degrees of partisanship, as 
 there are also different degrees of custom in all other things : 
 and it is not meant that all who are in any degree connected 
 with any party, must be equally devoted adherents of it. But I 
 am speaking of the tendency of party-spirit, and describing a 
 party-man so far forth as he is such. And persons of much ex- 
 perience in human affairs lay it down accordingly as a maxim, 
 that you should be very cautious how you fully trust a party- 
 man, however sound his own judgment, and however pure the 
 principles on which he acts, when left to himself. A sensible 
 and upright man, who keeps himself quite unconnected with 
 party, may be calculated on as likely to act on the views which 
 you have found him to take on each point. In some things, 
 perhaps, you find him to differ from you ; in others, to agree ; 
 but when you have learnt what his sentiments are, you know in 
 each case what to expect. But it is not so with one who is 
 connected with, and consequently controlled by, a party. In 
 proportion as he is so, he is not fully his own master; and in 
 some instances you will probably find him take you quite by 
 surprise, by assenting to some course quite at variance with the 
 sentiments which you have heard him express probably with 
 perfect sincerity as his own. When it comes to action, a 
 formed habit of following the party will be likely to prevail over 
 everything. At least, ( I'd just na advise ye to try!' 
 
 It is important to keep in mind that as is evident from 
 what has been said just above habits are formed, not at one 
 stroke, but gradually and insensibly ; so that unless vigilant
 
 Essay xxxix.] Annotations. 427 
 
 care be employed, a great change may come over the character 
 without our being conscious of any. For, as Dr. Johnson has 
 well expressed it, ' The diminutive chains of habit are seldom 
 heavy enough to be felt, till they are too strong to be broken/ 
 
 And this is often strongly exemplified in the case just 
 adverted to that of party-spirit. It is not often that a man, 
 all at once, resolves to join himself to a party ; but he is drawn 
 in by little and little. Party is like one of those perilous 
 whirlpools sometimes met with at sea. When a vessel reaches 
 the outer edge of one of them, the current moves so slowly, 
 and with so little of a curve, that the mariners may be uncon- 
 scious of moving in any curve at all, or even of any motion 
 whatever. But each circuit of the spiral increases the velocity, 
 and gradually increases the curvature, and brings the vessel 
 nearer to the centre. And perhaps this rapid motion, and the 
 direction of it, are for the first time perceived, when the force 
 of the current has become irresistible. 
 
 Some, no doubt, there were, of those who originally joined 
 the Association called ' United Irishmen/ who, entertaining no 
 evil designs, were seduced by specious appearances and fair pro- 
 fessions, and did not enough consider that when once embarked 
 on the stream of Party, no one can be sure how far he may 
 ultimately be carried. They found themselves, doubtless most 
 unexpectedly to many of them, engaged in an attempted revo- 
 lution, and partners of men in actual rebellion. 
 
 No doubt many did draw back, though not without difficulty, 
 and danger, and shame, when they perceived whither they were 
 being hurried ; though it is also, I think, highly probable that 
 many were prevented by that difficulty and shame from stopping 
 short and turning back in time; and having ' stepped in so 
 far/ persevered in a course which, if it v had been originally 
 proposed to them, they would have shrunk from with horror, 
 saying, ' Is thy servant a dog that he should do this great 
 thing?' 
 
 ' It is true that a man may, if he will, withdraw from, and 
 disown, a party which he had formerly belonged to. But this 
 is a step which requires no small degree of moral courage. 
 And not only are we strongly tempted to shrink from taking 
 such a step, but also our dread of doing so is likely rather to 
 mislead our reason than to overpower it. A man will wish to
 
 428 Of Custom and Education. [Essay xxxix. 
 
 think it justifiable to adhere to the party; and this wish is 
 likely to bias his judgment, rather than to prevail on him to 
 act contrary to his judgment. For, we know how much the 
 judgment of men is likely to be biassed, as well as how much 
 they are tempted to acquiesce in something against their judg- 
 ment, when earnestly pressed by the majority of those who are 
 acting with them, whom they look up to, whose approbation 
 encourages them, and whose censure they cannot but dread. 
 
 ' Some doctrine, suppose, is promulgated, or measure pro- 
 posed, or mode of procedure commenced, which some members 
 of a party do not, in their unbiassed judgment, approve. But 
 any one of them is disposed, first to wish, then to hope, and 
 lastly to believe, that those are in the right whom he would be 
 sorry to think wrong. And again, in any case where his judg- 
 ment may still be unchanged, he may feel that it is but a small 
 concession he is called on to make, and that there are great 
 benefits to set against it ; and that, after all, he is perhaps 
 called on merely to acquiesce silently in what he does not quite 
 approve ; and, he is loth to incur censure, as lukewarm in the 
 good cause, as presumptuous, as unfriendly towards those 
 who are acting with him. To be 'a breaker up of the Club ' 
 (tratpiae SiaAimje) was a reproach, the dread of which, we learn 
 from the great historian of Greece, carried much weight with it 
 in the transactions of the party-warfare he is describing. And 
 we may expect the like in all similar cases. 
 
 ' One may sometimes hear a person say in so many words 
 though far oftener, in his conduct ' It is true I do not alto- 
 gether approve of such and such a step ; but it is insisted on as 
 essential by those who are acting with us ; and if we were to 
 hold out against it, we should lose their co-operation; which 
 would be a most serious evil. There is nothing to be done, 
 therefore, but to comply/ ' 
 
 ' Certainly custom is most perfect when it beginneth in young 
 years : this we call education ; which is, in effect, but an early 
 custom.' 
 
 Education may be compared to the grafting of a tree. Every 
 gardener knows that the younger the wilding-stock is that is to 
 be grafted, the easier and the more effectual is the operation,
 
 Essay xxxix.] Annotations. 429 
 
 because, then, one scion put on just above the root, will become 
 the main stem of the tree, and all the branches it puts forth 
 will be of the right sort. When, on the other hand, a tree is 
 to be grafted at a considerable age (which may be very success- 
 fully done), you have to put on twenty or thirty grafts on the 
 several branches ; and afterwards you will have to be watching 
 from time to time for the wilding-shoots which the stock will 
 be putting forth, and pruning them off. And even so, one 
 whose character is to be reformed at mature age, will find it 
 necessary not merely to implant a right principle once for all, 
 but also to bestow a distinct attention on the correction of this, 
 that, and the other, bad habit. 
 
 It is wonderful that so many persons should confound to- 
 gether being accustomed to certain objects, and accustomed to 
 a certain mode of acting. Aristotle, on the contrary, justly 
 remarks that opposite habits are formed by means of the same 
 things (e/c TUV aurwv, /cat Sea TWV avTwv) treated in opposite 
 ways; as, for instance, humanity and inhumanity by being 
 accustomed to the view of suffering, with and without the effort 
 to relieve it. Of two persons who have been accustomed to 
 the sight of much human misery, one, who has been used to 
 pass it by without any effort to relieve it, will become careless 
 and hardened to such spectacles ; while another, who has been 
 in the practice of relieving sufferers, will acquire a strong habit 
 of endeavouring to afford relief. These two persons will both 
 have been accustomed to the same objects, but will have 
 acquired opposite habits, from being accustomed to act in oppo- 
 site ways. 
 
 ' Suppose that there is in your neighbourhood a loud bell that 
 is rung very early every morning to call the labourers in some 
 great manufactory. At first, and for some time, your rest will 
 be broken by it ; but if you accustom yourself to lie still, and 
 try to compose yourself, you will become in a few days so used 
 to it, that it will not even wake you. But any one who makes 
 a point of rising immediately at the call, will become so used 
 to it in the opposite way, that the sound will never fail to rouse 
 him from the deepest sleep. Both will have been accustomed 
 to the same bell, but will have formed opposite habits from their 
 contrary modes of action.
 
 43 Of Custom and Education. [Essay xxxix. 
 
 ' And we may see the same thing even in the training of brute 
 animals. For instance, of sporting dogs, there are some, such 
 as the greyhound, that are trained to pursue hares ; and others, 
 which are trained to stand motionless when they come upon a 
 hare, even though they see it running before them. Now, both 
 kinds are accustomed to hares; and both have originally the 
 same instincts ; for all dogs have an instinctive tendency to 
 pursue game. But the one kind of dog has always been en- 
 couraged to run after a hare, and the other has always been 
 chastised if it attempts to do so, and has been trained to stand 
 still." 
 
 But it must not be forgotten that education resembles the 
 grafting of a tree in this point also, that there must be some 
 affinity between the stock and the graft, though a very important 
 practical difference may exist ; for example, between a worthless 
 crab, and a fine apple. Even so, the new nature, as it may be 
 called, superinduced by education, must always retain some rela- 
 tion to the original one, though differing in most important 
 points. You cannot, by any kind of artificial training, make 
 any thing of any one, and obliterate all trace of the natural 
 character. Those who hold that this is possible, and attempt 
 to effect it, resemble Virgil, who (whether in ignorance or, as 
 some think, by way of ' poetical licence') talks of grafting an 
 oak on an elm : ' glandesque sues fregere sub ulmis.' 
 
 One of Doctor Johnson's paradoxes, more popular in his 
 time than now, but far from being now exploded, was, that a 
 given amount of ability may be turned in any direction, ' even 
 as a man may walk this way or that/ And so he can \ because 
 walking is the action for which the legs are fitted ; but though 
 he may use his eyes for looking at this object or that, he cannot 
 hear with his eyes, or see with his ears. And the eyes and ears 
 are not more different than, for instance, the poetical faculty, 
 and the mathematical. ' Oh, but if Milton had turned his mind 
 to mathematics, and if Newton had turned his mind to poetry, 
 the former might have been the great mathematician, and the 
 latter the great poet.' This is open to the proverbial reply, 
 ' If my aunt had been a man, she would have been my uncle.' 
 For, the supposition implied in these ifs is, that Milton and 
 
 1 Lessons on Morals.
 
 Essay xxxix.] Annotations. 49 x 
 
 Newton should have been quite different characters from what 
 they were. 
 
 ' . . . . Minds that have not suffered themselves to fix, but have 
 kept themselves open and prepared to receive continual 
 amendment ; which is exceeding rare. 1 
 
 And as admirable as it is rare. Such minds may indeed 
 print their opinions, but do not stereotype them. Nor does the 
 self-distrust, the perpetual care, the diligent watchfulness, the 
 openness to conviction, the exercise of which is implied in 
 Bacon's description, necessarily involve a state of painful and 
 unceasing doubt. For, in proportion as a man is watchfully 
 and prayerfully on his guard against the unseen current of 
 passions and prejudices, which is ever tending to drive him out 
 of the right course, in the same degree he will have reason for 
 cherishing an humble hope that He, the Spirit of Truth, is, and 
 will be, with him, to enlighten his understanding, to guide his 
 conduct, and to lead him onwards to that state in which Faith 
 shall be succeeded by sight, and hope by enjoyment. 
 
 ' The force of custom, copulate and conjoined, and collegiate, 
 is far greater.' 
 
 For this reason it is, that what is said or done by very in- 
 ferior persons, is the best sign of what is commonly said or done 
 in the place and time in which they live. A man of resolute 
 character, and of an original turn of thought, being more likely 
 to resist this force of ' copulate and collegiate' custom, does not 
 furnish so good a sign of what are the prevailing opinions and 
 customs. Hence the proverb : 
 
 ' A straw best shows 
 How the wind blows.' 
 
 A bar of heavy metal would not be perceptibly influenced by 
 the wind. 
 
 I wish I could feel justified in concluding this head without 
 saying anything of Bacon's own character; without holding 
 him up as himself a lamentable example of practice at variance 
 with good sentiments, and sound judgment, and right precepts. 
 He thought well, and he spoke well ; but he had accustomed
 
 432 Qf Custom and Education. [Essay xxxix. 
 
 himself to act very far from well. And justice requires that he 
 should be held up as a warning beacon to teach all men an 
 important lesson ; to afford them a sad proof that no intellectual 
 power no extent of learning, not even the most pure and 
 exalted moral sentiments, confined to theory, will supply the 
 want of a diligent and watchful conformity in practice to Chris- 
 tian principle. All the attempts that have been made to vindi- 
 cate or palliate Bacon's moral conduct, tend only to lower, and 
 to lower very much, the standard of virtue. He appears but 
 too plainly to have been worldly, ambitious, covetous, base, 
 selfish, and unscrupulous. 1 And it is remarkable that the 
 Mammon which he served proved but a faithless master in the 
 end. He reached the highest pinnacle, indeed, to which his 
 ambition had aimed ; but he died impoverished, degraded, de- 
 spised, and broken-hearted. His example, therefore, is far from 
 being at all seductive. 
 
 To Bacon, and unhappily to many others also, will apply the 
 satirical lines of the poet: 2 
 
 ' Our better thoughts 
 Are as our Sunday garments, then put on 
 When we have nought to .do; in working days 
 We wear a worse, for thrift.' 
 
 But let no one, thereupon, undervalue or neglect the lessons 
 of wisdom which his writings may supply, and which we may, 
 through divine grace, turn to better account than he did him- 
 self. It would be absurd to infer, that because Bacon was a 
 great philosopher, and far from a good man, therefore you will 
 be the better man for keeping clear of his philosophy. His 
 intellectual superiority was no more the cause of his moral 
 
 1 This censure of Bacon has actually been complained of as undeserved; not 
 on the ground that his conduct was any better than it is but too well known to 
 have been, but on the ground that his writings contain excellent views of Gospel- 
 truth ! 
 
 This is exactly the doctrine of the ancient Gnostics ; who held that their (so- 
 called) knowledge [Gnosis] of the Gospel would save them, though leading a 
 vicious life. 
 
 But when instances of such teaching in our own days are adduced (as unhappily 
 may be done to a great extent), some persons including some who are themselves 
 of blameless life resolutely shut their ears to evidence, and will not be brought 
 to perceive, or at least to acknowledge, that any such thing as Gnosticism exists 
 among us, or that we are in any danger of antinomian doctrine. 
 
 So strong is the force of Party ! 
 
 3 Crowe; formerly Public Orator at Oxford.
 
 Essay xxxix.] , Annotations. 
 
 433 
 
 failures, than Solomon's wisdom was of his. You may be as 
 faulty a character as either of them was, without possessing a 
 particle of their wisdom, and without seeking to gain instruction 
 from it. The intellectual light which they enjoyed did not, 
 indeed, keep them in the right path ; but you will not be the 
 more likely to walk in it, if you quench any light that is 
 afforded you. 
 
 The Canaanites of old, we should remember, dwelt in ' a 
 good land, flowing with milk and honey/ though they wor- 
 shipped not the true God, but served abominable demons, with 
 sacrifices of the produce of their soil, and even with the blood 
 of their children. But the Israelites were invited to go in, and 
 take possession of ' well-stored houses that they builded not, 
 and wells which they digged not / and they ' took the labours 
 of the people in possession / only, they were warned to beware 
 lest, in their prosperity and wealth, they should 'forget the 
 Lord their God/ and to offer to Him the first fruits of their 
 land. 
 
 Neglect not, then, any of the advantages of intellectual 
 cultivation which God's providence has placed within your 
 reach; nor 'think scorn of that pleasant land/ and prefer 
 wandering by choice in the barren wilderness of ignorance ; 
 but let the intellect which God has endowed you with be cul- 
 tivated as a servant to Him ; and then it will be, not a master, 
 but a useful servant, to you. 
 
 F F
 
 ESSAY XL. OF FORTUNE. 
 
 IT cannot be denied but outward accidents conduce much to 
 fortune ; favour, opportunity, death of others, occasion fitting 
 virtue : but chiefly the mould of a man's fortune is in his own 
 hands. Taber quisque fortunse suse/ saith the poet: 1 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 ; ' serpensnisi serpentem comederit non fit draco. " 
 Overt and apparent 3 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, ' disemboltura,' 4 partly expresseth them, when there be 
 not stonds 5 and restiveness in a man's nature, but that the 
 wheels of his mind keep way 6 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 qnocunque 
 loco natus esset, fortunam sibi facturus videretur')' falleth upon 
 that he had, ' versatile ingenium.' 8 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 9 way in the sky ; which is a meeting, or knot, of a 
 
 1 ' Every man the artificer of his own fortune.' Appius Claudius ; hut attri- 
 huted by Bacon elsewhere {Advancement of Learning) to Plautus. 
 
 2 ' Unless the serpent devours the serpent, it does not become a dragon.' 
 
 3 Apparent. Evident; known; visible. 
 
 ' As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent, 
 In my mind ought to be prevented.' Shakespere. 
 ' The outward and apparent sanctity should flow from purity of heart.' Atferbury. 
 
 4 Desenvoltura. Graceful ease. 
 
 5 Stonds. Stops. ' The removal of the stonds and impediments of the mind, 
 that often clears the passage and current to a man's fortune.' Bacon's Letter to 
 Sir Henry Temple. 
 
 6 Way. Time. The time in which a certain space can be passed through or 
 over. 
 
 'A mile-way.' Chaucer. 
 
 " ' In that man there was so much strength of body and of mind, that it seems 
 that in whatever place he had been, he would have made fortune his own.' 
 
 8 ' A versatile mind.' 
 
 9 Milken. Milky. ' The remedies are to be proposed from a constant course 
 of the milken diet.' Temple.
 
 Essay xl.] Of Fortune. 435 
 
 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;' 1 and, certainly, there be not two more fortunate pro- 
 perties than to have a little of the fool, and not too much of 
 the honest : therefore extreme lovers of their country, or masters, 
 were never fortunate; neither can they be; for when a man 
 placeth his thoughts without himself, he goeth not his own way. 
 A hasty fortune maketh an enterpriser 2 and remover 3 (the 
 French hath it better, ( entreprenant/ or 'remuant'), but the 
 exercised 4 fortune maketh the able man. Fortune is to be 
 honoured and respected, and 3 it be but for her daughters, Con- 
 science 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 8 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, ' Csesarem portas, et fortunam ejus.' 7 So Sylla 
 chose the name of 'felix/ and not of 'magnus:' 8 and it hath 
 been noted, that those who ascribe openly too much to their 
 own wisdom and policy, end unfortunate. It is written, that 
 Timotheus the Athenian, after 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 
 
 1 'A little of the fool.' 
 
 2 Enterpriser. An adventurer; a bold projector. 
 
 ' Wit makes an enterpriser, sense a man.' Young. 
 
 3 Remover. Agitator. 
 
 4 Exercised. Made familiar by me. ' A heart exercised with covetous prac- 
 tices.' 2 Pet. ii. 14. 
 
 5 And. If. 
 
 ' Nay, and I suffer this, I may go craze.' Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 6 Decline. To avoid. 
 
 ' Since the Muses do invoke my power, 
 I shall no more decline the sacred bower 
 Where Gloriana, the great mistress, lies.' Sir P. Sidney. 
 
 7 ' You carry Caesar and his fortunes.' Plut. Vlt. Casar. 38. 
 
 8 'Fortunate/ (and not of) 'great.' Plut. Syll. 34. 
 
 F F 2
 
 436 Of Fortune. [Essay xl. 
 
 he undertook afterward. Certainly there be whose fortunes are 
 like Homer's verses, that have a slide 1 and an easiness more 
 than the verses of other poets; as Plutarch saith of TimoleonV 
 fortune, in respect of that of Agesilaus, or Epaminondas ; and 
 that this should be, no doubt it is much in a man's self. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON FORTUNE. 
 
 PEG. CONTBA. 
 
 ' Virtutes apertse laudes pariunt j oc- ' Stultitia unius, fortuna alterius. 
 
 cultse fortunas. ' The folly of one is the good fortune 
 
 ' Virtues that are openly seen obtain of another' 
 praise ; but what is called luck is the 
 result of unperceived virtues.' 
 
 'Fortuna veluti galaxia; hoc est, 
 nodus quarundam obscurarum virtutum, 
 sine nomine. 
 
 ' Fortune is like a galaxy ; that is to 
 say, a collection of certain unseen and 
 nameless endoivments.' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' So are there a number of little and scarce discerned faculties 
 or customs, that make men fortunate.' 
 
 It is common to hear the lower orders speak of luck, either as 
 their mode of expressing what Bacon here calls ' small faculties 
 and customs/ or, as attributing to fortune what is a kind of 
 indescribable and imperceptible skill. You may hear them 
 speak of a woman who has good luck in her butter-making or 
 in bread-making j of a gardener who is lucky or who is unlucky 
 in grafting, or in raising melons, &c. 
 
 ' When they (the Italians] speak of one that cannot do amiss, 
 they will throw into his other conditions, that he hath ' Poco 
 di matto' [a little of the fool}' 
 
 This is in accordance with the proverb, ' Fortune favours 
 fools;' and it would have been well if Bacon had said some- 
 
 1 Slide. Fluency. ' Often he had used to be an actor in tragedies, where he 
 had learned, besides a slidingness of language, acquaintance with my passions.' 
 Sidney. 3 Vit. Timol. 36.
 
 Essay xl.] Annotations. 437 
 
 thing more of it. Fortune is said to favour fools, because they 
 trust all to fortune. When a fool escapes any danger, or 
 succeeds in any undertaking, it is said that fortune favours him ; 
 while a wise man is considered to prosper by his own prudence 
 and foresight. For instance, if a fool who does not bar his 
 door, escapes being robbed, it is ascribed to his luck ; but the 
 prudent man, having taken precautions, is not called fortunate. 
 But a wise man is, in fact, more likely to meet with good 
 fortune than a foolish one ; because he puts himself in the way 
 of it. If he is sending off a ship he has a better chance of 
 obtaining a favourable wind, because he chuses the place and 
 season in which such winds prevail as will be favourable to him. 
 If the fool's ship arrives safely, it is by good luck alone ; while 
 both must be in some degree indebted to fortune for success. 1 
 
 One way in which fools succeed where wise men fail is, that, 
 through ignorance of the danger, they sometimes go coolly 
 about some hazardous business. Hence the proverb that ' The 
 fairies take care of children, drunken men, and idiots/ 
 
 A surgeon was once called in to bleed an apoplectic patient. 
 He called the physician aside, and explained to him that in this 
 particular subject the artery lay so unusually over the vein, that 
 there was imminent risk of pricking it. ' Well, but he must 
 be bled at all hazards ; for he is sure to die without/ ' I am 
 so nervous/ said the surgeon, f that my hand would be unsteady. 
 But I know of a barber hard by who is accustomed to bleed ; 
 and as he is ignorant of anatomy, he will go to work coolly/ 
 The barber was summoned, and performed the operation readily 
 and safely. When it was over, the surgeon showed him some 
 anatomical plates, and explained to him that he had missed 
 the artery only by a hair's breadth. He never ventured to 
 bleed again. 
 
 One sometimes meets with an ' ill-used man ;' a man with 
 whom everything goes wrong; who is always thinking how 
 happy he should be to exchange his present wretched situation 
 for such and such another ; and when he has obtained it, find- 
 ing that he is far worse off than before, and seeking a remove ; 
 and as soon as he has obtained that, discovering that his last 
 
 1 See Proverbs and Precepts for Copy-pieces.
 
 438 Of Fortune. [Essay xl. 
 
 situation was just the thing for him, and was beginning to open 
 to him a prospect of unbroken happiness, far beyond his present 
 state, &c. To him a verse of Shakespere well applies : 
 
 ' O thoughts of men accurst ! 
 Past, and to come, seem best, things present, worst.' 
 
 One is reminded of a man travelling in the African desert, sur- 
 rounded by mirage, with a (seeming) lake behind him, and 
 another lake before him, which, when he has reached, he finds 
 to be still the same barren and scorching sand. A friend 
 aptly remarked, ' This man's happiness has no present tense.'
 
 ESSAY XLI. OF USURY. 1 
 
 MANY have made witty invectives against usury. They 
 say, that it is pity 2 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;' 3 
 
 that the usurer breaketh the first law that was made for man- 
 kind after the fall, which was, ' In sudore vultus tui comedes 
 panem tuum/ 4 not ' In sudore vultus alieni;' 5 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 :' 6 for since there must be borrowing and lend- 
 ing, and men are so hard of heart as 7 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 9 and commodities 9 
 of usury, that the good may be either weighed out or culled 
 
 1 Usury. Interest on money (not, as now, unlawful interest). ' Thou oughtest, 
 therefore, to have put my money to the exchangers, and then, at my coming, I 
 should have received mine own with usury.' Matt, xxv. 27. ' Our angles are like 
 money put to usury ; they may still thrive, though we sit still, and do nothing.' 
 Isaak Walton. 
 
 J It is pity. It is a pity. 
 
 ' That he is mad, 'tis true; 'tis true, 'tis pity; 
 And pity 'tis, 'tis true.' ShaJcespere. 
 
 a 'They drive from the hive the lazy swarm of drones.' Georg. iv. 1 68. 
 
 * ' In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat oread.' Gen. iii. 19. 
 
 4 ' In the sweat of another's face.' 
 
 6 ' A concession on account of hardness of heart.' See Matt. xix. 8. 
 
 7 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 8 Incommodity. Inconvenience; disadvantage. 'The uncouth incommodity of 
 my solitary life.' Bishop Hall. ' What incommodity have you conceived to be in 
 the common law.' Spenser. 
 
 8 Commodities. Advantages. 
 
 ' I will turn diseases to commodity.' ShaJcespere,
 
 44 Qf Usury. [Essay xli. 
 
 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 1 of usury are, first, that it makes fewer 
 merchants : for were it not for this lazy trade of usury, money 
 \vould not lie still, but it would in great part be employed upon 
 merchandising, 2 which is the vena porta 3 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 estates, 4 which ebb or flow with merchan- 
 dising : the fourth, that it bringeth the treasure of a realm or 
 State into a few hands ; for the usurer being at certainties, and 
 the other at uncertainties, at the end of the game most of the 
 money will be in the box ; and ever a State flourisheth when 
 wealth is more equally spread : the fifth, that it beats down the 
 price of land ; for the employment of money is chiefly either 
 merchandising, 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 5 usury in some respects hindereth merchandising, yet 
 in some other it advanceth it ; for it is certain that the greatest 
 part of trade is driven by young merchants upon borrowing at 
 interest ; so as 6 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, 7 
 in that 8 they would be forced to sell their means (be it lands 
 
 1 Discommodities. Inconveniences. See page 376. 
 
 2 Merchandising. Trading. ' The Phenicians, of whose exceeding merchandis- 
 ing we read so much in ancient histories, were Canaanites, whose very name sig- 
 nifies merchants.' Brerewood. 
 
 3 The great vein. * Estates. States. See page 146. 
 6 Howsoever. Although. See page 2. ' As. That. See page 26. 
 
 ' Undoing. See page 317. 
 
 8 In that. Inasmuch as. ' Things are preached not in that they are taught, 
 but in that they are published.' Hooker.
 
 Essay xli.] Of Usury. 441 
 
 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 2 without use/ or if they do, they 
 will look precisely for the forfeiture. I remember a cruel 
 monied 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 reglement 4 of usury, 
 how the discommodities of it may be best avoided, and the 
 commodities retained. It appears by the balance of commo- 
 dities and discommodities of usury, two things are to be recon- 
 ciled ; the one that the tooth of usury be grinded, that it bite 
 not too much ; the other that there be left open a means to 
 invite monied men to lend to the merchants, for the continuing 
 and quickening 5 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 merchandise being the most 
 lucrative, may bear usury at a good rate other contracts not so. 
 
 To serve both intentions, 6 the way would be briefly thus : 
 that there be two rates of usury; the one free and general for 
 all, the other under licence only to certain persons, and in 
 certain places of merchandising. 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 
 
 i 
 
 Under foot. Too low. 'What a stupidness is it, then, that we should deject 
 ourselves to such a sluggish, and underfoot philosophy.' Milton. 
 
 2 Pawns. Pledges. 
 
 ' Her oath for love, her honour's pawn.' Shakespere. 
 
 3 Use. Interest. " Reglement. Regulation. 
 
 5 Quicken. To give life to. 'You hath He quickened, who were dead in tres- 
 passes and sins.' Ephes. ii. I. . 
 
 6 Intention. Object. 'The principal intention (in chronic distempers) is tc 
 restore the tone of the solid parts.' Arluthnot.
 
 442 Of Usury. [Essay xli. 
 
 out to take any penalty for the same. This will preserve bor- 
 rowing 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 licenced to lend to known merchants 
 upon usury, at a high rate, and let it be with the cautions fol- 
 lowing. 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 reforma- 
 tion, be he merchant or whosoever 1 let it be no bank, or com- 
 mon stock, but every man be master of his own money; not 
 that I altogether mislike 2 banks, but they will hardly be brooked, 
 in regard 3 of certain suspicions. Let the State be answered 4 
 some small matter for the licence, and the rest left to the 
 lender ; for if the abatement be but small, it will no whit 5 
 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 this trade of usury, and go from certain 
 gains to gains of hazard. Let these licenced lenders be in 
 number indefinite, but restrained to certain principal cities and 
 towns of merchandise ; for then they will be hardly able to 
 colour 6 other men's monies in the country, so as the licence of 
 
 1 Whosoever. Whoever ' Whosoever should give the blow, the murder would 
 be his. We are guilty of all the evil we might have hindered.' Bishop Sail. 
 
 * MLslike. Dislike. 
 
 ' And Israel, whom I lov'd so dear, 
 Misliked me for his choice.' Milton. 
 
 * In regard. On account. See page 327. 
 4 Answer. To pay. 
 
 ' Who studies day and night 
 To answer all the debts he owes to you.' Shakespere. 
 
 * Whit. In the least ; in the smallest degree. ' I was not a whit behind the 
 very chiefest apostles.' 2 Cor. xi. 5. 
 
 ' We love, and are no whit regarded.' Sidney. 
 
 * Colour. To pass for their own. ' To colour a stranger's goods is, when a 
 freeman allows a foreigner to enter goods at the Custom-house in his name.' 
 Phillips.
 
 Essay xli.] Annotations. 
 
 443 
 
 nine will not suck away the current rate of five ; for no man 
 will lend his monies far off, nor put them into unknown hands. 
 If it be objected that this doth in any sort authorise 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. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 It is wonderful how late any right notions on this subject 
 were introduced ; and not even now have they been universally 
 adopted. I have already remarked, in the notes to the Essay 
 on ' Seditions and Troubles/ that the error of over-governing 
 always prevails in the earlier stages of civilization, even as the 
 young are more liable to it than the experienced. And that 
 Bacon shared in this error is evident from his advocating 
 sumptuary laws the regulating of prices the legislating against 
 engrossers prohibiting the laying down of land in pasture, &c. 
 All these puerilities are to be found in the earlier laws of all 
 countries. In this Essay on ' Usury/ he does not go the whole 
 length of the prejudices existing in his time, though he partakes 
 of them in a great degree. In his day, and long before, there 
 were many who held it absolutely sinful to receive any interest 
 for money, on the ground of the prohibition of it to the 
 Israelites in their dealings with each other ; though the Mosaic 
 law itself proves the contrary, since it allows lending at interest 
 to a stranger ; and certainly the Israelites were not permitted 
 to oppress and defraud strangers. 
 
 ' Since there must be borrowing and lending, and men are so 
 hard of heart as they will not lend freely ' 
 
 It seems strange that a man of Bacon's acuteness should not 
 have perceived but it is far more strange that legislators in 
 the nineteenth century should not have perceived that there is 
 no essential difference between the use of any other kind of 
 property, and money, which represents, and is equivalent to, 
 any and all kinds. It never occurred to Bacon, seemingly,
 
 444 Of Usury. [Essay xli. 
 
 that no man is called hard-hearted for not letting his land or 
 his house rent-free, or for requiring to be paid for the use of 
 his horse, or his ship, or any other kind of property. 
 
 As for the lending of money making ' fewer merchants/ and 
 1 causing money to lie still/ it is evident that this is the very 
 reverse of the fact ; as indeed is hinted in the Essay. Great 
 part of the trade and manufactures in every prosperous country 
 is carried on with borrowed capital, lent by those who have not 
 the skill and leisure to carry on such business themselves ; and 
 who, if they were prevented from thus investing their capital, 
 would be driven either to let their ' money lie stilP in a strong 
 box, or else to engage in a business for which they were not 
 fitted. 
 
 If I build a mill or a ship, and let it to a manufacturer or 
 merchant, every one would allow that this is a very fair way of 
 investing capital ; quite as fair, and much wiser, than if, being 
 ignorant of manufactures and trade, I were to set up as a manu- 
 facturer or merchant. Now if, instead of this, I lend a merchant 
 money to buy or build a ship for himself, or advance money to 
 the manufacturer to erect his buildings and machinery, he will 
 probably suit himself better than if I had taken this on myself, 
 without his experience. 
 
 No doubt, advantage is often taken of a man's extreme ne- 
 cessity, to demand high interest, and exact payment with rigour. 
 But it is equally true that advantage is taken, in some crowded 
 town, of a man's extreme need of a night's lodging. And it 
 is but too well known, that where there is an excessive compe- 
 tition for land, as almost the sole mode of obtaining a sub- 
 sistence, it is likely that an exorbitant rent will be asked, and 
 that this will be exacted with unbending severity. But who 
 would thereupon propose that the letting of land should be 
 prohibited, or that a maximum of rent should be fixed by law ? 
 For, legislative interposition in dealings between man and man, 
 except for the prevention of fraud, generally increases the evil 
 it seeks to remedy. A prohibition of interest, or which is 
 only a minor degree of the same error a prohibition of any 
 beyond a certain fixed rate of interest, has an effect similar to 
 that of a like interference between the buyers and sellers of any 
 other commodity. If, for example, in a time of scarcity it were 
 enacted, on the ground that cheap food is desirable, that bread
 
 Essay xli.] Annotations. 445 
 
 and meat should not be sold beyond such and such a price, the 
 result would be that every one would be driven unless he 
 would submit to be starved to evade the law ; and he would 
 have to pay for his food more than he otherwise would, to cover 
 
 (1) the cost of the contrivances for the evasion of the law, and 
 
 (2) a compensation to the seller for the risk, and also for the 
 discredit, of that evasion. Even so, a man who is in want of 
 money, and can find no one to lend it him at legal interest, is 
 either driven (as Bacon himself remarks), to sell his property at 
 a ruinous loss, or else he borrows of some Jew, who contrives 
 to evade the law ; and he has to pay for that evasion. Suppose, 
 for instance, he could borrow (if there were no usury laws) at 
 eight per cent., he will have to pay, perhaps, virtually, twelve 
 per cent., because (i) he has to resort to a man who incurs 
 disgrace by his trade, and who will require a greater profit to 
 compensate for the discredit; and (2) he will have to receive 
 part of his loan in goods which he does not want, at an exorbi- 
 tant price, or in some other way to receive less, really, than he 
 does nominally.
 
 ESSAY XLIL 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 
 Csesar 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 2 na- 
 tures may do well in youth, as it is seen in Augustus Caesar, 
 Cosmus Duke of Florence, Gaston de Fois, and others. On the 
 other side, heat and vivacity in age is an excellent composition 3 
 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 4 them. The errors of young men are the ruin of busi- 
 ness, 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 6 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 6 to innovate, which 
 
 1 ' His youth was not only full of errors, but of frantic passions/ Spartian, 
 Vit. Sev. 
 
 2 Reposed. Calm. ' With wondrous reposedness of mind, and gentle words, 
 Reputation answered.' Translation of Boccalini, 1626. 
 
 3 Composition. Temperament. See page 351. 
 
 * Abuse. To deceive ; to lead astray. 
 
 ' Nor be with all those tempting words abused.' Pope. 
 
 * Manage. Management. 
 
 ' The manage of my state.' Shakespere. 
 6 Care not. Are not cautious.
 
 Essay xlii.] Of Youth and Age. 447 
 
 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, 1 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 2 accidents, because 
 authority followeth old men, and favour 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/ 3 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 4 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 after- 
 wards waxed 5 stupid : a second sort is of those that have some 
 natural dispositions which have better grace in youth than in 
 age ; such as is a fluent and luxurious speech, which becomes 
 youth well, but not age ; so Tully saith of Hortensius, ' Idem 
 
 i 
 
 Period. Completion ; perfection. ' In light-conserving stones the light will 
 appear greater or lesser, until they come to their utmost period.' Digfy. 
 2 Extern. External. 
 
 ' When my outward action doth demonstrate 
 The native act and figure of my heart, 
 In compliment extern, 'tis not long after, 
 But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve, 
 For daws to peck at.' Shakespere. 
 
 1 Joel\\. 28. 
 
 4 Profit, To improve. ' That thy profiting may appear unto all men. 
 l Tim. iv. 15. ' It is a great means of profiting yourself to copy diligently excel- 
 lent designs.' Dry den. 
 
 5 Waxed. To grow; to become. 'Paul and Barnahas waxed bold. Acts 
 
 xiii. 46.
 
 448 Of Youth and Age. [Essay xlii. 
 
 manebat, neque idem decebat : M the third is of such as take too 
 high a strain at the first, and are magnanimous more than tract 2 
 of years can uphold; as was Scipio Africanus, of whom Livy 
 saith in effect, ' Ultima primis cedebant.' 3 
 
 ANTITHETA ON YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 PEG. COKTBA. 
 
 ***** ' Juventus poenitentise campus. 
 
 ' Seneg sibi sapiunt magis, aliis et ' Youth is the field for the seeds of 
 
 reipublicse minus. repentance.' 
 
 ' Old men have more wisdom for 
 
 themselves, and less for others, and for ' Ingenitus est juvenibus senllis auc- 
 
 the public' toritatis contemptus; ut quisque suo 
 
 periculo sapiat. 
 
 ' Si conspici daretur, magis deformat ' A contempt for the judgments of 
 
 animos, quam corpora, senectus. age is implanted in youth, in order that 
 
 ' If the mind could be an object of every one may be sentenced to learn 
 tight, it would be seen that old age wisdom at his own risk.' 
 deforms it more than the body' 
 
 ' Tempus, ad qua? consilia non advo- 
 
 Senes omnia metuunt, praeter Deos. catur, nee rata habet. 
 ' Old men fear everything but the ' When time is not called in as a 
 
 gods' counsellor, neither does it ratify the 
 
 decision' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 Many readers of Aristotle's admirable description (in the 
 Rhetoric) of the Young and the Old, (in which he gives so decided 
 a preference to the character of the young,) forget, that he is 
 describing the same man at different periods of life, since the 
 old must have been young. As it is, he gives just the right 
 view of the character of the ' natural man/ (as the Apostle Paul 
 expresses it,) which is, to become on the whole, gradually 
 
 1 'He remained the same; but the same was no longer becoming to him.'- 
 dc. Brut. 95. 
 
 2 Tract. Course. 
 
 ' My fansies all are fled, 
 And tract of time begins to weave 
 Grey haires upon my head.' Lord Vaux. 
 (This is supposed to be the original of Shakespere's 
 
 grave-digger's song in Hamlet?) 
 1 ' The last fell short of the first.' Livy, xxxviii. 53.
 
 Essay xlii.] Annotations. 449 
 
 worse, when no superior and purifying principle has been im- 
 planted. Some people fancy that a man grows good by grow- 
 ing old, without taking any particular pains about it. But ' The 
 older the crab-tree, the more crabs it bears/ says the proverb. 
 Unless a correcting principle be engrafted, though a man may, 
 perhaps, outgrow the vices and follies of youth, other vices, 
 and even worse, will come in their stead. If, indeed, a wilding 
 tree be grafted, when young, with a good fruit tree, then, the 
 older it is, if it be kept well pruned, the more good fruit it will 
 bear. 
 
 ' A man that is young in years may be old in hours, if he have 
 
 lost no time' 
 
 Many are apt to overlook, with regard to mental qualifica- 
 tions, what Bacon has here said, that the junior in years maybe 
 the senior in experience. And this may be, not only from his 
 having had better opportunities, but also from his understanding 
 better how to learn* from experience. ' Several different men, 
 who have all had equal, or even the very same, experience, that 
 is, have been witnesses or agents in the same transactions, will 
 often be found to resemble so many different men looking at 
 the same book : one, perhaps, though he distinctly sees black 
 marks on white paper, has never learned his letters ; another 
 can read, but is a stranger to the language in which the book is 
 written; another has an acquaintance with the language, but 
 understands it imperfectly ; another is familiar with the lan- 
 guage, but is a stranger to the subject of the book, and lacks 
 power or previous instruction to enable him fully to take in the 
 author's drift; while another again perfectly comprehends the 
 whole. 
 
 ' The object that strikes the eye is to all of these persons the 
 same ; the difference of the impressions produced on the mind 
 of each is referable to the differences in their minds.' 1 
 
 And this explains the fact, which I have already touched 
 upon in the notes on the Essay ' Of seeming Wise,' namely, 
 the great discrepancy that we find in the results of what are 
 called Experience and Common-sense, as contradistinguished 
 from Theory. 
 
 1 Political Economy, Lect. iii. 
 G G
 
 450 Of Youth and Age. [Essay xlii. 
 
 ' Men are apt not to consider with sufficient attention, what 
 it is that constitutes Experience in each point ; so that frequently 
 one man shall have credit for much Experience in what relates 
 to the matter in hand, and another, who, perhaps, possesses as 
 much, or~ more, shall be underrated as wanting it. The vulgar, 
 of all ranks, need to be warned, first, that time alone does not 
 constitute Experience ; so that many years may have passed over 
 a man's head, without his even having had the same opportunities 
 of acquiring it, as another, much younger : secondly, that the 
 longest practice in conducting any business in one way, does not 
 necessarily confer any experience in conducting it in a different 
 way. For instance, an experienced Husbandman, or Minister of 
 State, in Persia, would be much at a loss in Europe ; and if they 
 had some things less to learn than an entire novice, on the other 
 hand they would have much to unlearn ; and, thirdly, that 
 merely being conversant about a certain class of subjects, does 
 not confer Experience in a case, where the Operations, and the 
 End proposed, are different. It is said that there was an 
 Amsterdam merchant, who had dealt largely in corn all his life, 
 who had never seen a field of wheat growing : this man had 
 doubtless acquired, by Experience, an accurate judgment of the 
 qualities of each description of corn, of the best methods of 
 storing it, of the arts of buying and selling it at proper 
 times, &c. ; but he would have been greatly at a loss in its cul- 
 tivation ; though he had been, in a certain way, long conversant 
 about corn. Nearly similar is the Experience of a practised 
 lawyer, (supposing him to be nothing more,) in a case of Legis- 
 lation. Because he has been long conversant about Law, the 
 unreflecting attribute great weight to his legislative judgment ; 
 whereas his constant habits of fixing his thoughts on what the 
 law is, and withdrawing it from the irrelevant question of what 
 the law ought to be ; his careful observance of a multitude of 
 rules, (which afford the more scope for the display of. his skill, 
 in proportion as they are arbitrary and unaccountable,) with a 
 studied indifference as to that which is foreign from his business, 
 the convenience or inconvenience of those Rules may be expected 
 to operate unfavourably on his judgment in questions of Legis- 
 lation : and are likely to counterbalance the advantages of his 
 superior knowledge, even in such points as do bear on the 
 question.
 
 Essay xlii.] Annotations. AC.I 
 
 ' Again,, a person who is more properly to be regarded as an 
 Antiquarian than anything else, will sometimes be regarded as 
 high authority in some subject respecting which he has perhaps 
 little or no real knowledge or capacity, if he have collected a 
 multitude of facts relative to it. Suppose for instance a man of 
 much reading, and of retentive memory, but of unphilosophical 
 mind, to have amassed a great collection of particulars respecting 
 the writers on some science, the times when they flourished, 
 the numbers of their followers, the editions of their works, &c., 
 it is not unlikely he may lead both others and himself into the 
 belief that he is a great authority in that science ; when perhaps 
 he may in reality know though a greal deal about it nothing 
 of it. Such a man's mind, compared with that of one really 
 versed in the subject, is like an antiquarian armoury, full of 
 curious old weapons, many of them the more precious from 
 having been long since superseded, as compared with a well- 
 stocked arsenal, containing all the most approved warlike imple- 
 ments fit for actual service. 
 
 ' In matters connected with Political-economy, the experience 
 of practical men is often appealed to in opposition to those who 
 are called theorists ; even though the latter perhaps are deducing 
 conclusions from a wide induction of facts, while the experience 
 of the others will often be found only to amount to their having 
 been long conversant with the details of office, and having all 
 that time gone on in a certain beaten track, from which they 
 never tried, or witnessed, or even imagined a deviation. 
 
 ' So also the authority derived from experience, of a practical 
 miner, i. e. one who has wrought all his life in one mine, will 
 sometimes delude a speculator into a vain search for metal or 
 coal, against the opinion perhaps of Theorists, i. e. persons of 
 extensive geological observation. 
 
 ' ' It may be added, that there is a proverbial maxim which 
 bears witness to the advantage sometimes possessed by an obser- 
 vant bystander over those actually engaged in any transaction : 
 ' The looker-on often sees more of the game than the players/ 
 Now the looker-on is precisely (in Greek 0eo>poc) the Theo- 
 rist. 
 
 ' ' When then you find any one contrasting, in this and in 
 other subjects, what he calls ' experience/ with < theory/ you will 
 usually perceive, on attentive examination, that he is in reality 
 
 G G a
 
 453 Of Youth and Age. [Essay xlii. 
 
 comparing the results of a confined, with that of a wider expe- 
 rience; a more imperfect and crude theory, with one more 
 cautiously framed, and based on a more copious induction/ ' l 
 
 ' The experience of age in new things abuseth them' 
 
 The old are more liable to the ' rashness of the horse,' and the 
 younger, to that of the moth ; the distinction between which 
 I have before pointed out. The old again are more likely than 
 the young, to claim, and to give, an undue deference to the 
 judgment, in reference to some new plan or system, of those 
 who are the most thoroughly familiar with the old one. On 
 this point I have already dwelt in my remarks on Innovation. 
 
 '' Natures that have much heat are not ripe for action till they 
 have passed the meridian of their years' 
 
 There is a strange difference in the ages at which different 
 persons acquire such maturity as they are capable of, and at 
 which some of those who have greatly distinguished themselves 
 have done, and been, something remarkable. Some of them 
 have left the world at an earlier age than that at which others 
 have begun their career of eminence. It was remarked to the 
 late Dr. Arnold by a friend, as a matter of curiosity, that 
 several men who have filled a considerable page in history 
 have lived but forty-seven years ; (Philip of Macedon, Joseph 
 Addison, Fielding the novelist, Sir William Jones, Nelson, 
 Pitt,) and he was told in a jocular way to beware of the forty- 
 seventh year. He was at that time in robust health ; but he 
 died at forty-seven ! Alexander died at thirty-two ; Sir Stamford 
 Raffles at forty-five : Clive, one of the most extraordinary 
 generals that ever existed, at forty-nine. Sir Isaac Newton 
 did indeed live to a great age; but it is said that all his dis- 
 coveries were made before he was forty; so that he might have 
 died at that age, and been as celebrated as he is. 
 
 On the other hand, Herschel is said to have taken to 
 astronomy at forty-seven. Swedenborg, if he had died at sixty, 
 would have been remembered by those that did remember him, 
 
 1 See Elements of Rhetoric, Part II., ch. iii., 5, pp. 221 224.
 
 Essay xlii.] Annotations. 
 
 453 
 
 merely as a sensible worthy man, and a very considerable 
 mathematician. The strange fancies which took possession of 
 him, and which survive in the sect which goes by his name, all 
 came on after that age. 
 
 Some persons resemble certain trees, such as the nut, which 
 flowers in February, and ripens its fruit in September ; or the 
 juniper and the arbutus, which take a whole year or more to 
 perfect their fruit ; and others the cherry, which takes between 
 two and three months. 
 
 1 There be some have an over early ripeness in their years, which 
 fadeth betimes' 
 
 One may meet with some who are clever as children, and 
 without falling back, remain stationary at a certain age, and 
 thus are neither more nor less than clever children all their 
 life. You may find one who has thus stood still at about nine 
 or ten ; another at about fourteen ; another at about seventeen 
 or eighteen, and so on. And it is a curious thing to meet, at 
 pretty long intervals, a person whom one has known as a 
 remarkably forward, and (supposed) promising youth, and to 
 find that at forty, fifty, sixty, he has hardly either gained or 
 lost anything since he was in his teens. An elder-tree will 
 grow as much in the first three or four years as an oak in ten 
 or twelve ; but at thirty years the oak will have outgrown the 
 elder, and will continue gaining on it ever after. 
 
 As for the decay of mental faculties which often takes place 
 in old age, every one is aware of it ; but many overlook one 
 kind of it which is far from uncommon ; namely, when a man 
 of superior intelligence, without falling into anything like 
 dotage, sinks into an ordinary man. Whenever there is a mix- 
 ture of genius with imbecility, every one perceives that a decay 
 has taken place. But when a person of great intellectual 
 eminence becomes (as is sometimes the case) an ordinary average 
 man, just such as many have been all their life, no one is likely 
 to suspect that the faculties have been impaired by age, except 
 those who have seen much of him in his brighter days. 
 
 Even so, no one, on looking at an ordinary dwelling-house 
 in good repair, would suspect that it had been once a splendid 
 palace; but when we view a stately old castle, or cathedral,
 
 454 Of Youth and Age. [Essay xlii. 
 
 partly in ruins, we see at once that it cannot be what it 
 originally was. 
 
 This kind of decline is furthered, and sometimes perhaps in 
 great measure caused, by a man's associating for a long time 
 chiefly with persons of inferior mind, and gradually imbibing 
 their prejudices, and discontinuing such studies and such mental 
 exercise as they have no sympathy with. He thus becomes 
 what has been called a Palimpsest. A literal ' palimpsest' is 
 as is generally known a parchment from which the original 
 manuscript perhaps some precious work of an ancient classic 
 has been scraped off, to make room for some monkish legend, 
 or mediseval treatise. But by holding it in a strong light, a 
 person of good eyes, may, by great patience, make out (as 
 Signer Angelo Maio has) the faint traces of the old writing. 
 
 A man who in early life has resided in a University, or a 
 Metropolis, among men of superior mind, and of literary and 
 scientific tastes, will sometimes retire for the rest of his life to 
 some locality where he is surrounded by persons comparatively 
 unintellectual and narrow-minded ; and will then perhaps have 
 so completely let himself down to their level, that one of his 
 former associates would hardly recognise him : though in the 
 course of conversation he may by degrees recall some portion 
 of the former man. He may, as it were, gaze steadily on the 
 Palimpsest till he perceives the traces of the original writing, 
 which had been nearly obliterated, and replaced by a legend. 
 
 The decay which is most usually noticed in old people, both 
 by others and by themselves, is a decay of memory. But this 
 is perhaps partly from its being a defect easily to be detected 
 and distinctly proved. When a decay of judgment takes place 
 which is perhaps oftener the case than is commonly supposed 
 the party himself is not likely to be conscious of it ; and his 
 friends are more likely to overlook it, and even when they do 
 perceive it, to be backward in giving him warning, for fear of 
 being met with such a rebuff as Gil Bias received in return for 
 his candour, from the Archbishop, his patron. 
 
 It is remarkable, that there is nothing less promising than, 
 in early youth, a certain full-formed, settled, and, as it may be 
 called, adult character. A lad who has, to a degree that excites 
 wonder and admiration, the character and demeanour of an 
 intelligent man of mature age, will probably be that, and
 
 Essay xlii.] Annotations. 455 
 
 nothing more, all his life, and will cease accordingly to be any- 
 thing remarkable, because it was the precocity alone that ever 
 made him so. It is remarked by greyhound-fanciers that a 
 well-formed, compact-shaped puppy never makes a fleet dog. 
 They see more promise in the loose-jointed, awkward, clumsy 
 ones. And even so, there is a kind of crudity and unsettled- 
 ness in the minds of those young persons who turn out ulti- 
 mately the most eminent. 
 
 ' Some natural dispositions which have better grace in youth 
 than in age, such as is a fluent and luxuriant speech' 
 
 It is remarkable, that, in point of style of writing, Bacon 
 himself, at different periods of life, showed differences just 
 opposite to what most would have expected. His earlier writings 
 are the most unornamented ; and he grew more ornate as he 
 advanced. So also Burke. His earliest work, On the Sublime, 
 is in a brief, dry, philosophical style ; and he became florid to 
 an excess as he grew older.
 
 ESSAY XLIII. OF BEAUTY. 
 
 T7IRTUE 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 1 seen that very beautiful 
 persons are otherwise of great virtue, as if nature were rather 
 busy not to err, than in labour to produce excellency, 2 and 
 therefore they prove accomplished, but not of great spirit, and 
 study rather behaviour than virtue. But this holds not always ; 
 for Augustus Caesar, Titus Vespasianus, Philip le Bel of France, 
 Edward IV. of England, Alcibiades of Athens, Ismael the 
 sophy 3 of Persia, were all high and great spirits, and yet the 
 most beautiful men of their times. In beauty, that of favour 4 
 is more than that of colour, and that of decent 5 and gracious 6 
 motion more than that of favour. That is the best part of 
 beauty which a picture cannot express, no, nor the first sight 
 of the life. There is no excellent beauty that hath not some 
 strangeness in the proportion. A man cannot tell whether 
 Apelles or Albert Durer were the more 7 trifler ; whereof the one 
 
 1 Almost. For the most part ; generally. ' Who is there almost, whose mind 
 at some time or other, love or anger, fear or grief, has not fastened to some clog, 
 that it could not turn itself to any other object ?' 
 
 2 Excellency. Excellence. ' That the excellency of the power may be of God, 
 and not of us.' 2 Cor. iv. 7. 
 
 8 Sophy. Sultan. 
 
 ' With letters, him in cautious wise, 
 They straightway sent to Persia; 
 But wrote to the Sophy him to kill.' 
 
 St. George and the Dragon. 
 * Favour. Countenance. 
 
 ' I know your favour well, Percy, 
 
 Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.' ShaTcespere. 
 5 Decent. Becoming; fit. 'All pastimes, generally, which be joyned with 
 labour and in open place, and on the day-lighte, be not only comelie and decent, 
 but verie necessarie for a courtly gentleman.' Roger Ascham. 
 ' Those thousand decencies that daily flow 
 
 From all her words and actions.' Milton. 
 ' Gracious. Graceful. 
 
 'There was ne'er such a gracious creature born.' Shakespere. 
 
 7 More. Greater ; great. ' The moreness of Christ's virtues are not measured 
 by worldly moreness.' Wivkliff.
 
 Essay xliii.] Of Beauty. 457 
 
 would make a personage by geometrical proportions, the other, 
 by taking the best parts out of divers 1 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 2 though persons in 
 years seem many times more amiable : ' Pulchrorum autumnus 
 pulcher' 3 for no youth can be comely but by pardon, and con- 
 sidering 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. 
 
 1 Divers. Many. ' For that divers of the English do maintain and succour 
 sundry thieves, robbers, and rebels, because that the same do put them into their 
 safeguard and counsel . . . ' Statutes and Ordinances made in the 4th year of 
 Henry VI., before the Most Reverend Richard, Archbishop of Dublin, and Lord 
 Justice of Ireland, A.D. 1440. 
 
 2 Marvel. A wonder. 'No marvels for Satan himself is transformed into an 
 angel of light.' 2 Cor. xi. 14. 
 
 3 ' The autumn of the beautiful is beautiful.'
 
 ESSAY XLIV. 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 r" and so they have their revenge of nature. 2 Cer- 
 tainly there is a consent 3 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 inclina- 
 tion 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 him- 
 self to rescue and deliver himself from scorn ; therefore, all 
 deformed persons are extreme 4 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, 8 in a great wit, deformity is an advantage 
 to rising. Kings, in ancient times (and at this present, in 
 
 1 Rom. i. 31. 
 
 8 ' Then since the Heavens have shaped my body so, 
 Let Hell make crook't my mind to answer it.' 
 
 Shakespere's Richard III. 
 1 Consent. Agreement. 
 
 ' With one consent, let all the earth 
 
 To God their cheerful voices raise.' Tate's Version of Psalm c. 
 4 Extreme. Extremely. 
 
 8 Matter. Whole. (' Upon the matter ' On the whole.) ' He grants the deluge 
 to have come so very near the matter, that but very few escaped.' Tillotson.
 
 Essay xliv.] Annotation. 
 
 some countries), were wont 1 to put great trust in eunuchs, 
 because they that are envious towards all are obnoxious 2 and 
 officious towards one : but yet their trust towards them hath 
 rather been as to good spials 3 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 ; 4 and therefore, let it not be marvelled, 5 if 
 sometimes they prove excellent persons ; as was Agesilaus, 
 Zanger the son of Solyman, ^Esop, Gasca, president of Peru; 
 and Socrates may go likewise amongst them, with others. 
 
 ANNOTATION. 
 
 Bacon is speaking principally of original deformities ; not such 
 as result from accident or disease. And it is very remarkable 
 how much less tendency these latter have, than the other, to 
 produce such effects as he is speaking of. 
 
 1 Wont. To ~be accustomed. ' Now at the feast the governor was wont to 
 release unto them a prisoner.' Matt, xxvii. 15. 
 
 ' I this night, have dream'd, 
 If dream'd, not as I oft am wont, of thee.' Milton. 
 
 2 Obnoxious. Subject; submissive. ' The writings of lawyers, which are tied 
 and obnoxious to their particular laws.' Bacon. 
 
 3 Spials. Spies. 
 
 ' The Prince's spials have informed me.' ShaTcespere. 
 
 4 Malice. Vice. (Not, as now, restricted to malevolence.) 'In malice be ye 
 children.' I Cor. xiv. 2O. ' Not using your liberty for a cloak of maliciousness.' 
 I Pet. ii. 1 6. 
 
 5 Marvel. To wonder at. ' Marvel not that I said unto thee, ye must be born 
 again.' John iii.
 
 ESSAY XLV. OF BUILDING. 
 
 HOUSES are built to live in, and not to look on ; therefore, 
 let use be preferred before 1 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, 2 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 3 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 4 you shall have, and that suddenly, as great 
 diversity of heat and cold as if you dwelt in several places. 
 Neither is it ill 5 air only that maketh an ill seat, but ill ways, 
 ill markets ; and if you consult with Momus, ill neighbours. I 
 speak not of many more ; want of water, want of wood, shade, 
 and shelter, want of 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 6 
 of navigable rivers, or the discommodity of their overflowing ; 
 too far off from great cities, which may hinder business ; or too 
 
 1 Preferred before. Preferred to. 
 
 ' O Spirit that dost prefer 
 Before all temples, the upright heart and pure, 
 Instruct me.' Milton. 
 
 8 Seat. Site. 'It remaineth now that we find out the seat of Eden.' 
 Maleigh. 
 
 a Knap. A prominence ; a knoll. 
 
 ' Hark, on knap of yonder hill, 
 
 Some sweet shepherd tunes his quill.' Brown. 
 4 As. That. See page 26. 
 6 111. Bad. 
 
 ' There some ill planet reigns.' Shakespere. 
 6 Commodity. Advantage ; convenience. See page 439.
 
 Essay xlv.] Of Building. 461 
 
 near them, which lurcheth 1 all provisions, and maketh every- 
 thing dear ; where a man hath a great living laid together, and 
 where he is scanted ; 2 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 3 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 fowls are, that ever 
 change their abode towards the winter ?' 4 
 
 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 5 room in them. 
 
 First, therefore, I say, you cannot have a perfect palace, 
 except you have two several 6 sides; a side for the banquet, as 
 is spoken of in the book of Esther, and a side for the house^ 
 hold ; the one for feasts and triumphs, 7 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 
 
 1 Lurch. To absorb. (From I'ourchea, game in which the stakes are put into 
 a box, where the loser is obliged to leave them. Hence perhaps the expression ' to 
 be left in the lurch.') 
 
 2 Scanted. Limited ; restricted. ' I am scanted in the pleasure of dwelling or 
 your actions.' Dryden. 
 
 3 Sort. To chuse. 
 
 ' To sort some gentlemen well skilled in music.' Shakespere. 
 
 4 Pint. Vit. Lucull. 30. 
 
 5 Fair. Handsome. 
 
 ' Carry him to my fairest chamber.' Shakespere. 
 * Several. Separate. ' He dwelt in a several house.' 2 Kings xv. 5. 
 7 Triumphs. Shows on festive occasions. Seepage 411.
 
 462 Of Building. [Essay xlv. 
 
 side of the banquet in front, one only goodly room above stairs, 
 of some forty feet high ; and under it a room for a dressing, or 
 preparing place, at times of triumphs. On the other side, 
 which is the hoiisehold 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 farther end a winter and a summer parlour, 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 storeys, of 
 eighteen feet high a-piece above the two wings ; and goodly leads 
 upon the top, railed with statues 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 and 
 open newel, and finely railed in with images of wood cast into a 
 brass colour, and a very fair landing place at the top. But this 
 to be, if you do not point 2 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 feet, 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 rows 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 galleries let there be three or five fine 
 cupolas in the length of it, placed at equal distance, and fine 
 coloured windows of several works; on the household side, 
 
 1 Bigness. Size, whether great or small. ' Several sorts of rays make vibrations 
 of several bignesses.' Sir Isaac Newton. 
 
 2 Point. To appoint. 
 
 ' To celebrate the solemn bridall cheere 
 'Twixt Peleus and dame Thetis pointed there.' Spenser.
 
 Essay xlv.] Of Building. 46 ^ 
 
 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 1 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 2 to be out of 
 the sun or cold. For embowed 3 windows, I hold them of good 
 use ; in cities, indeed, upright do better, in respect of the uni- 
 formity 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 4 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 storey ; on the under 
 storey, towards the garden, let it be turned to a grotto, or place 
 of shade, or estivation; and only have opening and windows 
 towards the garden, and be level upon the floor, no whit 5 sunk 
 under ground, to avoid all dampishness; and let there be a 
 fountain, or some fair work of statues in the midst of the 
 court, and to be paved as the other court was. These buildings 
 to be for privy lodgings on both sides, and the end for privy 
 galleries ; whereof you must foresee that one of them be for an 
 infirmary, if the prince or any special person should be sick, 
 with chambers, bed-chamber, 'antecamera' [' anti-chamber '], 
 
 1 Cast. To plan. 
 
 ' From that day forth, I cast in careful mind 
 
 To keep her out.' Spenser. 
 Become. To betake oneself. 
 
 ' I cannot joy until I be resolved 
 Where oiir right valiant father 
 Is become.' Shakespere. 
 
 3 Embowed. Sowed. 
 
 ' I saw a bull as white as driven snow, 
 With gilden horns, embowed like the moon.' Spenser. 
 
 4 Inward. Inner. ' Though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is 
 renewed day by day.' 2 Cor. iv. 
 
 5 Whit. The least degree. See page 442.
 
 Of Building. [Essay xlv. 
 
 and 'recamera/ ['retiring-chamber/ or ' back-chamber'] join- 
 ing to it ; this upon the second storey. Upon the ground storey, 
 a fair gallery, open, upon pillars; and upon the third storey 
 likewise, an open gallery upon pillars, to take the prospect and 
 freshness of the garden. At both corners of the farther side, 
 by way of return, let there be two delicate or rich cabinets, 
 daintily 1 paved, richly hanged, 2 glazed with crystalline glass, 
 and a rich cupola in the midst, and all other elegancy that may 
 be thought upon. In the upper gallery, too, I wish that there 
 may be, if the place will yield it, some fountains running in 
 divers 3 places from the wall, with some fine avoidances. 4 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. 
 
 1 Daintily. Elegantly. See page I. 
 
 2 Hanged. Sung (with draperies). ' Music is better in rooms wainscotted than 
 hanged.' Bacon. 
 
 * Divers. Many. See page 223. 
 
 4 Avoidances. Water-courses. ' The two avoidances or passages of water.' 
 Statute 8th year of King Henry VII.
 
 ESSAY XL VI. OF GARDENS. 
 
 GOD ALMIGHTY first planted a garden, and, indeed, it is 
 the purest of human pleasures ; it is the greatest refresh- 
 ment to the spirits of man, without which building and palaces 
 are but gross handyworks : and a man shall ever see, that when 
 ages grow to civility 1 and elegancy, 2 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 3 may be then in season. For De- 
 cember and January, and the latter part of November, you 
 must take such things as are green all winter ; 4 holly, ivy, bays, 
 juniper, cypress- trees, yew, pines, fir-trees, rosemary, lavender; 
 periwinkle, the white, the purple, and the blue; germander, 
 flag, orange-trees, lemon-trees, and myrtles, if they be stoved ; 
 and sweet marjoram, warm set. There followeth, for the latter 
 part of January and February, the mezereon tree, which then 
 blossoms ; crocus vernus, both the yellow and the grey ; prim- 
 roses, anemones, the early tulip, hyacinthus orientalis, chamairis, 
 fritellaria. For March, there come violets, especially the single 
 blue, which are the earliest ; the early daffodil, the daisy, the 
 almond-tree in blossom, the peach-tree in blossom, the cornelian- 
 tree in blossom, sweetbriar. In April, follow the double white 
 violet, the wall-flower, the stock-gilliflower, the cowslip, flower- 
 de-luces, 5 and lilies of all natures; rosemary-flowers, the tulip, 
 the double peony, the pale daffodil, the French honeysuckle, the 
 cherry-tree in blossom, the damascene and plum-trees in blossom, 
 
 1 Civility. Civilization. 
 
 ' Wheresoe'er her conquering engles fled, 
 Arts, learning, and civility were spread.' Denham. 
 
 2 Elegancy. See page 411. 
 
 s Things of beauty. Beautiful things. 
 
 ' A thing of beauty is a joy for ever ! ' 
 
 4 As for the cherry-laurel, the rhododendron, and even the laurustinus and the 
 ilex, though natives of Portugal, Bacon seems not to have known them. But it is 
 strange he does not mention the box, which is indigenous. Evelyn notices it ; hut 
 with a caution against placing it too near the house, on account of its odour ; 
 which, to him, it seems was offensive, though, to others, a most delicious fragrance. 
 
 5 Flower-de-luces. The iris. 
 
 H H
 
 66 Of Gardens. [Essay xlvi. 
 
 the white thorn in leaf, the lilac-tree. In May and June come 
 pinks of all sorts, especially the blush pink ; roses of all kinds, 
 except the musk, which comes later ; honeysuckles, strawberries, 
 bugloss, columbine, the French marigold, flos Africanus, cherry- 
 tree in fruit, ribes, 1 figs in fruit, rasps, 2 vine flowers, lavender 
 in flowers, the sweet satyrian, with the white flower : herba 
 muscaria, lilium convallium, the apple-tree in blossom. In 
 July come gilliflowers of all varieties, musk roses, the lime-tree 
 in blossom, early pears, and plums in fruit, gennitings, 3 quodlins. 4 
 In August come plums of all sorts in fruit, pears, apricocks, 5 
 barberries, 6 filberds/ musk melons, monks-hoods, of all colours. 
 In September come grapes, apples, poppies of all colours, 
 peaches, melocotones, 8 nectarines, cornelians, 9 wardens, 10 quinces. 
 In October and the beginning of November come services, 11 
 medlars, bullaces, roses cut or removed to come late, hollyoaks, 12 
 and such like. These particulars are for the climate of London ; 
 but my meaning is perceived, that you may have ver perpetuum, 13 
 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 
 
 1 Ribes. Currants. 
 1 Rasps. Raspberries. 
 
 ' Now will the corinths, now the rasps, supply 
 
 Delicious draughts.' Phillips. 
 
 8 Gennitings. Jennethings (June-eating ; hut supposed by some to be a corrup- 
 tion from Janeton, being so called after a Scotch lady of that name). 
 * Quodlins. Cod/ins. 
 6 Apricocks. Apricots. 
 
 ' Go bind thou up yon dangling apricocks, 
 Which, like unruly children, make their sire 
 Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight.' Shakespere. 
 
 6 Barberries. Berberries. 
 
 7 Filberds. Filberts. 
 
 ' I'll bring thee 
 To clustering filberds.' Shakespere. 
 
 8 Melocotone. A large peach. 9 Cornelians. Cherries. 
 
 10 Wardens. A large keeping pear. 
 
 ' Now must all shoots of pears alike be set, 
 Crustinian, Syrian pears, and wardens great.' May's Virgil. 
 
 11 Services. A plant and fruit (Sorbus). ' October is drawn in a garment of 
 yellow and carnation ; in his left hand a basket of services, medlars, and other 
 fruits that ripen late.' Peacham. 
 
 12 Hollyoaks. Hollyhocks. ' Hollyoaks far exceed poppies for their durableness, 
 and are far more ornamental.' Mortimer. 
 
 13 A perpetual spring.
 
 Essay xlvi.] Of Gardens. 467 
 
 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 1 flowers of their smell ; 
 so that you may walk by a whole row of them, and find 
 nothing of their sweetness, yea, 2 though it be in a morning'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 ; especially the white 
 double violet, which comes twice a-year about the middle of 
 April, and about Bartholomew-tide. Next to that is the musk 
 rose ; then the strawberry leaves dying, with a most excellent 
 cordial smell ; then the flower of the vines it is a little dust 
 like the dust of a bent, 3 which grows upon the cluster in the 
 first coming forth then sweetbriar, then wall-flowers, which 
 are very delightful to be set under a parlour or lower chamber 
 window ; then pinks and gilliflowers, 4 especially the matted pink 
 and clave gilliflowers ; then the flowers of the lime-tree ; then 
 the honeysuckles, so they be somewhat afar off. Of bean- 
 flowers 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 water-mints ; 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,' prince- 
 like, 5 as we have done of buildings), the contents ought not well 
 
 1 Fast. Tenacious. 
 
 'Yet all this while in a most fast sleep.' ShaJcespere. 
 
 * Yea. Nay : not only this, but more than this. < For behold this self-same thing 
 that ye sorrowed after a godly sort, what carefulness it wrought in you, what 
 clearing of yourselves, yea what indignation, yea what fear, yea what vehement 
 desire, yea what zeal, yea what revenge.' 2 Cor. vii. n. 
 
 ' I am weary ; yea my memory is tired.' Shakespere. 
 
 3 Bent. Bent-grass. 
 
 ' His spear a bent both stiff and strong, 
 
 And well near of two inches long.' Drayton. 
 
 ' June is drawn in a mantle of dark grass green upon a garland of bents, king-cups, 
 and maiden-hair.' Peacham. 
 
 4 This name probably comes from the old French gilofre, for girofle, a clove, 
 derived from caryophyllus. 
 
 5 Prince -like. Princely. 
 
 ' The wrongs he did me have nothing prince-like' Shakespere. 
 H H 1
 
 468 Of Gardens. [Essay xlvi. 
 
 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 1 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 carpenters' work, about twelve 
 feet in height, by which you may go in shade into the garden. 
 As for the making of knots, or figures, with divers-coloured 2 
 earths, that they may lie under the windows of the house on 
 that side on which the garden stands, they be but toys : you 
 may see as good sights many times in tarts. The garden is 
 best to be square, encompassed on all the four sides with a 
 stately arched hedge ; the arches to be upon pillars of car- 
 penters* work, of some ten feet high, and six feet broad, and 
 the spaces between of the same dimensions with the breadth of 
 the arch. Over the arches let there be an entire hedge of 
 some four feet high, framed also upon carpenters' work ; and 
 upon the upper hedge, over every arch, a little turret with a 
 belly 3 enough to receive a cage of birds : and over every space 
 between the arches some other little figure, with broad plates 
 of round coloured glass gilt, for the sun to play upon : but this 
 hedge I intend to be raised upon a bank, not steep, but gently 
 slope, 4 of some six feet, set all with flowers. Also, I under- 
 
 1 Either. Each. See page 346. 
 
 s Divers-coloured. Of various colours. 
 
 ' Smiling Cupids, 
 With divers-coloured fans.' Shalcespere. 
 
 * Belly. See page 231. 
 
 * Slope. Sloping. 
 
 ' Murmuring waters fall 
 Down the slope hills, dispersed, or in a lake, 
 That to the fringed hanks, with myrtle crown'd, 
 Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams.' Milton.
 
 Essay xlvi.] Of Gardens. 469 
 
 stand that this square of the garden shall 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 1 your prospect upon this fair hedge from 
 the green nor at the farther end, for letting your prospect from 
 the hedge through the arches upon the heath. 
 
 For the ordering of the ground within the great hedge, I 
 leave it to variety of device, advising, nevertheless, that what- 
 soever 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, 3 with some pretty pyramids, I like 
 well; and in some places fair columns, upon frames of car- 
 penters' 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 ; 4 and the whole mount to be thirty 
 feet 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 feet square, but without any 
 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 6 it never stay, either in the 
 
 1 Let. To hinder. ' Ofttimes I purposed to come unto you, but was let hitherto.' 
 Romans i. 13. 
 
 2 Busy (now only applied to the agent, and not to the subject). Elaborate. ^ 
 
 3 Welts. Edging ; border. ' Certain scioli, or smatterers, may have some edging 
 or trimming, of a scholar, a welt or so ; but no more.' Ben Jonson. 
 
 4 Embossments. Anything standing out from the rest. ' It expresses the great 
 embossment of the figure.' Addison. 
 
 5 Receipt. Receptacle; place for receiving. 'He saw Matthew sitting at the receipt 
 of custom.' Mark ii. 14. 
 
 6 As. That. See page 26.
 
 470 Of Gardens. [Essay xlvi. 
 
 bowls or in the cistern that the water be never by rest disco- 
 loured, 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, do well. As for the other kind of fountain, which we may 
 call a bathing-pool, it may admit much curiosity 1 and beauty, 
 wherewith we will not trouble ourselves : as, that the bottom 
 be finely paved, and with images ; the sides likewise ; and withal 
 embellished with coloured glass, and such things of lustre, 
 encompassed also with fine rails of low statuas ; 2 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 wished 
 it to be framed, as much as may be, to a natural wildness. 
 Trees I would have none in it, but some thickets made only of 
 sweetbriar and honeysuckle, and some wild vines amongst, and 
 the ground set with violets, strawberries, and primroses; for 
 these are sweet, and prosper in the shade, and these are to be 
 in the heath here and there, not in any order. I like also little 
 heaps, in the nature of mole-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 peri- 
 winkle, 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 to be with standards of little bushes pricked 
 upon their top, and part without the standards to be roses, 
 juniper, holly, berberries (but here and there, because of the 
 
 1 Curiosity. Elegance. 
 3 ' Even at the base of Pompey's statua.' Shakespere, Jul. Caesar.
 
 Essay xlvi.] Of Gardens. 471 
 
 smell of their blossom), 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 grpunds, 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 shel- 
 ter, 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 should be generally 
 observed, that the borders wherein you plant your fruit-trees be 
 fair, and large, and low, and not steep, and set with fine flowers, 
 but thin and sparingly, lest they deceive 1 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 arbours 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 feel 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 large- 
 ness as they may be turfed, and have living plants and bushea 
 set in them, that the birds may have more scope and natural 
 nestling, and that no foulness appear on the floor of the aviary. 
 So I have made a platform of a princely garden, partly by pre- 
 cept, partly by drawing not a model, but some general lines 
 
 1 Deceive. To deprive by stealth; to rob. 'And so deceive the spirits of the 
 body, and rob them of their nourishment.' -Bacon. ' Rather than I would embezzle 
 or deceive him of a mite, I would it were moult, and put into my mouth.' Caven- 
 dish, Life of Cardinal Wolsey.
 
 Of Gardens. [Essay xlvi. 
 
 of it and in this I have spared 1 for no cost; but it is nothing 
 for great princes, that, for the most part, taking advice with 
 workmen, with no less cost set their things together, and some- 
 times add statues, and such things, for state and magnificence, 
 but nothing to the true pleasure of a garden. 
 
 ANNOTATION. 
 
 ' I for my part do not like images cut out in juniper.' 
 
 This childish taste, as Bacon rightly calls it, prevailed to a 
 great degree long after his time. But what is now called 
 ' Landscape-gardening' is, of all the fine arts (it may fairly 
 be accounted one), the latest in its origin ; having, arisen not 
 very early in the last century. 
 
 The earliest writer, I believe, on the subject was my uncle 
 Thomas Whately. From his work (which went through several 
 editions) subsequent writers have borrowed largely, and gene- 
 rally with little or no acknowledgment. The French poet De 
 Lille, however, in his poem of Les Jardins, does acknowledge 
 him as his master. 
 
 Mr. W. was distinguished as a man of taste in more than 
 one department. Being by many looked up to with deference 
 in such matters, it was he that first brought into notice 
 Thomson's Seasons, and thus laid the foundation of its great 
 popularity. And the portion that was completed of his work 
 on the Characters of Shakespere (left unfinished at his death, 
 but edited first by my father, and afterwards by myself) is con- 
 sidered by competent judges to be one of the ablest critical 
 works that ever appeared. 2 
 
 1 Spare. To restrict oneself; to forbear. 
 
 ' We might have spared our coming.' Milton. 
 
 9 This Work was very severely criticized in a pamphlet published a good many 
 years ago, by Mr. John Kemble, which is something of a curiosity in its way ; on 
 account of the vehement indignation with which he comes forward to vindicate the 
 character of Macbeth, which had been, as he thinks, unduly disparaged. If Shake- 
 spere's Macbeth had been a real person, and had been a dear friend of Mr. Kemble's, 
 more wrathful zeal could hardly have been manifested. And the reckless haste of 
 the writing appears in the circumstance that he had (with the book before him) 
 mistaken the Author's Christian name, and mis-spelt his surname. It is true, it is
 
 Essay xlvi.] Annotation. 472 
 
 His treatise on Modern Gardening (as it was then called) 
 would form the most suitable annotation on this Essay of 
 Bacon's. But it is far too long to be inserted entire ; and any 
 extracts or abridgment would be far from doing justice either 
 to the Author, or to the subject. 
 
 It is worth observing, that of what is now called picturesque 
 beauty, the ancients seem to have had no perception. A 
 modern reader does indeed find in their writings descriptions 
 which in his mind excite ideas of that kind of beauty. But 
 the writers themselves seem to have felt delight only in the 
 refreshing coolness of streams and shady trees, in the softness 
 of a grassy couch, and in the gay colours and odours of 
 flowers. And as for rocky mountains, and everything that we 
 admire as sublime scenery, this they seem to have regarded 
 merely with aversion and horror; as the generality of the un- 
 educated do, now, and as our ancestors did, not many years 
 ago. Cotton, for instance, the contemporary and friend of 
 Isaac Walton, and an author of some repute in his day, speaks 
 of his own residence on the romantic river Dove, which 
 tourists now visit on account of its surpassing beauty, as 
 
 ' A place 
 
 Where Nature only suffers in disgrace. 
 Environ'd round with Nature's shames and ills, 
 Black heaths, wild crags, black rocks, and naked hills.' 
 
 And most even of Mr. Whately's contemporaries seem to 
 have regarded the Scotch Highlands as frightful. 
 
 a matter of no intrinsic importance whether he was christened Thomas or William, 
 or whether his surname was written with seven letters, or eight. But to make 
 two blunders in the title-page of the book one is reviewing, indicates careless im- 
 petuosity.
 
 ESSAY XLVII. 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 in- 
 terrupted, or heard by pieces. To deal in person is good, when 
 a man's face breedeth regard, as commonly with inferiors ; or 
 in tender cases, where a man's eye upon the countenance of 
 him with whom he speaketh may give him a direction how far 
 to go ; and generally, where a man will reserve to himself liberty, 
 either to disavow or expound. In choice of instruments, it is 
 better to chuse 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 1 to contrive out of other 
 men's business somewhat to grace themselves, and will help the 
 matter in report, for satisfaction sake. Use also such persons 
 as affect 2 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 
 men for inquiry and observation, froward and absurd 3 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, 4 than with those that are where they would be. If 
 
 1 Cunning. Skilful. ' I will take away the cunning artificer.' Isaiah iii. 3. 
 
 ' I will send you a man of mine, 
 Cunning in music and the mathematics.' Shakespere. 
 
 2 Affect. To like. See page 416. 
 
 * Absurd. See Annotation on Essay XXVI. 
 4 Appetite. Desire. 
 
 ' Dexterity so obeying appetite, 
 TLat what he wills, he does.' Shakespere
 
 Essay xlvii.] Annotations. 475 
 
 a man deal with another upon conditions, the start of 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 houester man. All practice 1 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 or fashions, 2 and so lead him ; or 
 his ends, and so persuade him ; or his weakness and disad- 
 vantages, 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. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' It is generally better to deal by speech than by letter.' 
 
 It is a pity Bacon did not say more, though what he does 
 say is very just on the comparative reasons for discussing each 
 matter orally, or in writing. Not that a set of rules could be 
 devised for the employment of each, that should supersede 
 the need of cautious observation, and sagacious reflection; 
 for ' what art/ as he himself has observed, < can teach the suit- 
 
 1 Practice. Negotiation ; sUlful management. ' He ought to have that by 
 practice, which he could not by prayer.' Sidney. Thus, also, the verb : 
 
 ' I have practised with him, 
 And found means to let the victor know, 
 That Syphax and Sempronius are his friends.' Addison. 
 
 ' Fashion. Way ; manner ; habit. 
 
 ' Pluck Casca by the sleeve, 
 And he will, after his own fashion, tell you 
 What hath proceeded.' Shakespere.
 
 476 Of Negotiating. [Essay xlvii. 
 
 able employment of an art ?' ' Genius begins/ as some one 
 has remarked, ' where rules end.' But well-framed rules 
 such as Bacon doubtless could have given us in this matter 
 instead of cramping genius, enable it to act more efficiently. 
 
 One advantage which, in some cases, the speaker possesses 
 over the writer is, that he can proceed exactly in the order 
 which he judges to be the best ; establishing each point in suc- 
 cession, and perhaps keeping out of sight the conclusion to 
 which he is advancing, if it be one against which there exists a 
 prejudice. For sometimes men will feel the force of strong 
 arguments which they would not have listened to at all, if they 
 had known at the outset to what they were ultimately leading. 
 Thus the lawyer, in the fable, is drawn into giving a right 
 decision as to the duty of the owner of an ox which had gored 
 a neighbour's. Now, though you may proceed in the same 
 order, in a letter or a book, you cannot if it is all to be laid 
 before the reader at once prevent his looking first at the end, 
 to see what your ultimate design is. And then you may be 
 discomfited, just as a well-drawn-up army might be, if attacked 
 in the rere. 
 
 Many writers of modern tales have guarded against this, and 
 precluded their readers from forestalling the conclusion, by pub- 
 lishing in successive numbers. And an analogous advantage 
 may sometimes be secured by writing two or more letters in 
 succession, so as gradually to develop the arguments in their 
 proper order. 
 
 In oral discussions, quickness may give a man a great advan- 
 tage over those who may, perhaps, surpass him in sound judg- 
 ment, but who take more time to form their opinions, and to 
 develop their reasons ; and, universally, speaking has an advan- 
 tage over writing, when the arguments are plausible, but flimsy. 
 There is a story of an Athenian, who had a speech written for 
 him in a cause he was to plead, by a professional orator, and 
 which he was to learn by heart. At the first reading, he was 
 delighted with it ; but less at the second ; and at the third, it 
 seemed to him quite worthless. He went to the composer to 
 complain ; who reminded him that the judges were only to hear 
 it once. 
 
 And hence, as has been justly remarked, the very early prac- 
 tice of much public speaking, tends to cultivate, in the person
 
 Essay xlvii.] Annotations. 477 
 
 himself, a habit of readiness and fluency, at the expense of 
 careful investigation and accurate reasoning. 1 A work requiring 
 these qualities such as, for instance, a sound treatise on Poli- 
 tical Economy ' might better be expected/ says Lord Macaulay, 
 * from an apothecary in a country town, or a minister in the 
 Hebrides, than from a man who, from the age of twenty-one, 
 had been a practised debater in public/ 
 
 For sound reasoning, on the other hand, when opposed to 
 existing prejudices, writing has a corresponding advantage over 
 speaking. Some plausible, though insufficient, objection to 
 what has been urged, may at once start up, as soon as the 
 argument meets the ear or the eye ; and in an oral discussion 
 this may seem to have finally disposed of the matter, and the 
 whole may pass away from the mind. But written words re- 
 main, as it were, staring you in the face, and are virtually 
 repeated over and over again each time of re-perusal. It must 
 be a really satisfactory refutation that can set the mind quite at 
 ease in this case. For this is the converse of the case of the 
 speech above alluded to. Sound arguments appear stronger 
 and stronger each time they are re-considered. 
 
 Oral discussion has this advantage in favour of the disin- 
 genuous and crafty that something may be conveyed by the 
 tone of voice, looks, and gestures, which cannot be accurately 
 reported, or at least so as to be satisfactorily proved ; and 
 thus contempt, or suspicion, or incredulity, or disapprobation, 
 &c., may be so conveyed as not to commit a man. And even 
 words actually spoken may be denied ; or some (alleged) expla- 
 nation of them may be added j and it will be difficult to bring 
 home to a man conclusively what he did, or did not, say ; because 
 few witnesses will be prepared to make oath as to the very 
 words spoken. What is written, on the other hand, is a stand- 
 ing witness, and cannot be so easily explained away. 
 
 There is an advantage, again, in requiring of candidates for 
 the Ministry a written subscription to certain fixed Formularies, 
 in preference to the system alluded to in Annotation (i) to Essay 
 III. It is true, indeed, that a man may explain away in ' a 
 non-natural sense' what he has subscribed to; according to the 
 principle avowed by a certain Party, and practised^ only by 
 
 ' Oral translation from a foreign language, it is remarked by Dr. Arnold, gives 
 fluency of speech without carelessness of thought.
 
 4/8 Of Negotiating. [Essay xlvii. 
 
 them, but by some of their opponents also. But it is plain 
 that it must be much more easy to back out of what has passed 
 in a mere oral discussion. 
 
 There is this difference again between speaking and writing ; 
 that there is no use in saying anything, however reasonable and 
 forcible, which you are sure will have no weight with the persons 
 you are speaking to. For there are persons whom to attempt 
 to convince by even the strongest reasons, and most cogent 
 arguments, is like King Lear putting a letter before a man 
 without eyes, and saying, ' Mark but the penning of it \' to 
 which he answers, ' Were all the letters suns, I could not see 
 one/ But it may be well worth while sometimes to write to 
 such a person much that is not likely to influence him at all, 
 if you have an opportunity of showing it to others, as a proof 
 that he ought to have been convinced by it. 
 
 As for speeches in public, they may be considered as par- 
 taking of both characters ; for, as they are taken down by the 
 reporters, and printed, they are, so far, of the character of 
 written compositions. 
 
 Bacon remarks in his Essay ' On Cunning/ that when there 
 are two persons only conferring together, it is impossible to 
 make it clear which of them said what. If either of them is 
 trying to back out of something he has said, or practising any 
 other kind of craft, he will be likely to say, ' I understood you 
 to say so and so / or ' You misunderstood me. I did not say so 
 and so/ And when both parties are honest, there will be some- 
 times a real misapprehension of what passed orally; which is 
 so frequent a cause of quarrels, that the very word ( misunder- 
 standing' has come to be used in that sense. 
 
 It is to be observed that when the expressions in dispute are 
 not merely what lawyers call ' obiter dicta' something hastily 
 and incidentally thrown out, but contain the very drift and 
 general tenor of a full and leisurely discussion of some matter, 
 it is much more likely other things being equal that A. 
 should have forgotten what he said, than that B. should 
 have imagined what never took place. Yet there are 
 some persons who, without any disingenuous design, but 
 merely from a groundless confidence in the infallibility of 
 their own memory, will insist on it that another has totally 
 mistaken the whole drift of their discourse, and that they
 
 Essay xlvii.] Annotations. 470 
 
 never said anything at all like what he distinctly remembers 
 though it is what he closely attended to and what made a 
 strong impression on his mind. In such a case, he might fairly 
 reply, ' Well, it cannot be denied to be possible that one man 
 may mistake another, to any extent, and under any circum- 
 stances ; but if this is the case with me, there is no use in 
 your speaking to me at all, now, or at any time. For if I am 
 unable to understand aright the general drift of a discus- 
 sion, in plain English, and to which I paid the closest atten- 
 tion, how can I be sure that the sense I understand your words 
 to convey at this very moment, may not be something quite as 
 different from your real meaning, as that which I formerly 
 understood you to say ? There must be an end therefore of all 
 oral conference between us. Anything that you wish to com- 
 municate, you must put down on paper, and let me, on reading 
 it, express, on paper also, in my own words, what it is that I 
 understand from it; and then, these must be shown to one or 
 two other persons, who must declare whether I have rightly 
 understood you or not ; and must explain my mistake if I have 
 made any/ 
 
 For people who are slippery, either from design or from 
 treacherous memory, there is nothing like writing. 
 
 But it may be remarked generally, that a person who is apt 
 to complain of ' not being understood/ even by such as possess 
 ordinary intelligence and candour, is one who does not well 
 understand himself. 
 
 A remark of Dr. Cooke Taylor, in The Bishop, bears upon 
 this subject: 'Much judgment is required to discriminate 
 between the occasions when business can be best done per- 
 sonally, and when best by letter. One general rule may be 
 noted : disagreements will be best prevented by oral communi- 
 cations, for then each man may throw out what occurs to him, 
 without being committed in writing to something from which 
 he would be ashamed to draw back. ' There is room for mutual 
 explanation for softening down harsh expressions for coming 
 to an understanding about common objects, which very probably 
 are not inconsistent so long as the elements of discord retain 
 the vagueness of spoken words. Liter a scripta manet. 1 
 
 1 See Annotation on Essay III. p. 30.
 
 480 Of Negotiating. [Essay xlvii. 
 
 'When, however, disagreements actually exist, the opposite 
 course must be pursued. In such a case conversation has an 
 inevitable tendency to become debate ; and in the heat of argu- 
 ment something is likely to be thrown out offensive to one 
 side or the other. Adversaries generally meet, not to end a 
 dispute, but to continue it ; not to effect reconciliation, but to 
 gain a victory; they are, therefore, likely to remember dif- 
 ferently what is said, to put very varied interpretations on tones 
 and looks, and to find fresh aliment of strife in the means em- 
 ployed for its termination. Even when adversaries meet for the 
 express purpose of being reconciled, they are very apt to slide 
 insensibly into the opposite course, and thus to widen the breach 
 which you are anxious to have closed. It would be an odd way 
 of preventing a fight between game cocks to bring them into 
 the same pit/ 
 
 It is important to observe, that where there are a number 
 of persons possessed with some strong prejudices which you 
 wish to break down, you have a much better chance by dealing 
 with them one by one, than together ; because they keep each 
 other in countenance in holding out against strong reasons to 
 which they can find no answer ; and are ashamed each in 
 presence of the rest to go back from what they have said, and 
 own conviction. But if you untie the faggot, you may break 
 the sticks one by one. 
 
 And again, if you wish to make the most of your station and 
 character, so as to overbear superior reasons on the other side, 
 do not brmg them together, lest some of them should press you 
 with arguments or objections which you cannot answer, and the 
 rest should be ashamed to decide, through mere deference to 
 you, against what each feels must be the general conviction ; 
 but if you take them one by one, each will probably be ashamed 
 of setting up himself singly against you ; you will be likely to 
 prevail at least with each one who cannot himself refute you ; 
 and these will probably be the majority. 1 
 
 1 Some Reviewer, if I recollect rightly, takes for granted that I am here de- 
 scribing my own practice. On the same principle he would, one may suppose, if 
 he heard of some anatomist, who had pointed out the situation of the vital parts 
 of the human frame, where a wound was likely to prove mortal, conclude that 
 the man must be an assassin ! 
 
 It is not perhaps wonderful that a person of low moral principle should infer 
 judging from himself that one who knows of some crafty trick will be sure to
 
 Essay xlvii.] Annotations. 481 
 
 But, on the other hand, if there are some prevailing prejudices 
 that are on your side, and cool argument would weigh against you, 
 then, according to what has been said just above, you can more 
 easily manage a number of men together, than each singly. 
 
 It is told of the celebrated Wilkes, that at some public 
 meeting he sat next to a person who, being ill-pleased with the 
 course matters were taking, kept exclaiming, ' I cannot allow 
 this to go on ! I must take the sense of the Meeting on this 
 point/ Whereupon Wilkes is said to have whispered to him, 
 ' Do so, if you will ; I'll take the nonsense of the Meeting 
 against you, and beat you/ 
 
 Some persons have an excessive dread of following in the 
 wake of another; wishing to be accounted the originators of 
 any measure they advocate. In dealing with a man of this 
 character, you must be ready (supposing you are more anxious 
 to effect some good object, than to obtain the credit of it) to 
 humour this kind of vanity, by allowing him to take the lead, 
 and to fancy, if he insists on it, that the view he adopts was a 
 suggestion of his own. Many a man's co-operation may be 
 purchased at this price, who would have disdained the thought 
 of favouring another person's scheme. You must be prepared, 
 therefore, if you are acting with true singleness of purpose, to 
 say, with the hero in the ^Eneid, 
 
 . . . . ' hsec dira meo dum vulnere pestis 
 Pulsa cadat, patriam remeabo inglorius urbem.' 
 
 In dealing with those who have prejudices to be got over, 
 and whose co-operation or conviction you wish for, it is well 
 worth remembering that there are two opposite kinds of dispo- 
 sition in men, requiring opposite treatment. One man, perhaps 
 intelligent, and not destitute of candour, but with a consider- 
 able share of what phrenologists call the organs of Firmness, 
 and of Combativeness, will set himself to find objections to your 
 proposals or views ; and the more you urge him to come to an 
 immediate decision on your side, and own himself overcome by 
 your arguments, the more resolutely he will maintain his first 
 position, and will at length commit himself irrecoverably to 
 
 practise it. But any one of even a moderate degree of acuteness, will perceive 
 that a person who does practise such tricks, is not very likely to publish a descrip- 
 tion of them. Burglars do not send word to the master of a house at what point 
 they design to break in. 
 
 I I
 
 482 Of Negotiating. [Essay xlvii. 
 
 opposition. Your wisest course, therefore, with such a man 
 will be, after having laid before him your reasons, to recommend 
 him to reflect calmly on them, and so leave him to consult his 
 pillow. And it will often happen that he will reason himself 
 into your views. Leave the arrow sticking in his prejudice, 
 and it will gradually bleed to death. 
 
 With another man, of a very different character, it will be 
 wise to pursue an opposite course. If you urge him with the 
 strongest reasons, and answer all his objections, and then leave 
 him apparently a convert, you will find the next time you meet 
 him, that you have all to do over again ; everything that you 
 had said having faded away. Your only security with such a 
 man, is to continue pressing him, till he has distinctly given 
 his consent, or plainly declared his acquiescence ; till you have 
 brought him, as it were, formally to pass the Act in the Par- 
 liament of his own mind, and to have thus committed himself 
 in your favour. 
 
 Of course, you must watch for any symptoms that may in- 
 dicate which kind of man you have to deal with. 
 
 It is worth remarking that a person who has been led by 
 plausible arguments to adopt some erroneous notions, is not un- 
 likely to be reasoned out of them : but not so, if he has adopted 
 them from some feeling, fancy, or unreasoning prejudice, or 
 under some half-mad delusion ; or from the influence of strong 
 passion, or of self-interest. In such a case, though he may 
 bring forward what are meant for arguments to justify his con- 
 viction, it will be but lost labour to refute those arguments. 
 He will bring forward others, no matter how futile ; and when 
 all are refuted, he will still adhere to his belief. It may be laid 
 down as a general rule, with few or no exceptions, that what 
 did not come in by the door of Reason, will not be driven out at 
 that door. 
 
 A person under partial derangement, will often be haunted 
 by a delusion which he half suspects to be such, but which he 
 cannot completely shake off; like a troublesome Dream which 
 we sometimes suspect to be but a dream, but are unable (espe- 
 cially in sickness) to get rid of. In such a case, if you attempt 
 to argue the man out of his delusion, you will be the more 
 likely to confirm him in it ; because he will set him self earnestly 
 to defend it. It will be better to try to draw off his attention
 
 Essay xlvii.] Annotations. 483 
 
 to some other subject; as poor Cowper's was, for a time, 
 by his translation of Homer. And thus there will be a 
 little chance of its spontaneously fading away from his mind 
 altogether. 
 
 And the like holds good with respect to all convictions founded 
 in such prejudices as I have just alluded to. If the man is 
 left to himself, the passion may perhaps cool ; the fanciful no- 
 tion may as it were evaporate of itself; and on beginning to 
 think rationally he may cure his own error himself. Small as 
 the chance may be, of such a cure, there is, I conceive, no other 
 chance. Your arguments only arouse pertinacious opposition ; 
 and, as Lady Macbeth says of her husband, 
 
 'Question 1 enrages him; he grows worse and worse.' 
 
 Reason has no authority except over her own children. 
 
 Another caution to be observed is, that in combating, whether 
 as a speaker or a writer, deep-rooted prejudices, and maintain- 
 ing unpopular truths, the point to be aimed at should be, to 
 adduce what is sufficient, and not much more than is sufficient 
 to prove your conclusion. If you can but satisfy men that 
 your opinion is decidedly more probable than the opposite, you 
 will have carried your point more effectually than if you go on, 
 much beyond this, to demonstrate, by a multitude of the most 
 forcible arguments, the extreme absurdity of thinking differently, 
 till you have affronted the self-esteem of some, and awakened 
 the distrust of others. ' Some will be stung by a feeling of 
 shame passing off into resentment, which stops their ears 
 against argument. They could have borne perhaps to change 
 their opinion : but not, so to change it as to tax their former 
 opinion with the grossest folly. They would be so sorry to 
 think they had been blinded to such an excess, and are so angry 
 with him who is endeavouring to persuade them to think so, 
 that these feelings determine them not to think it. They try 
 (and it is an attempt which few persons ever make in vain) to 
 shut their eyes against an humiliating conviction : and thus, 
 the very triumphant force of the reasoning adduced, serves to 
 harden them against admitting the conclusion : much as one 
 
 1 Question. Discussion. 
 112
 
 484 Qf Negotiating. [Essay xlvii. 
 
 may conceive Roman soldiers desperately holding out an un- 
 tenable fortress to the last extremity, from apprehension of 
 being made to pass under the yoke by the victors, should they 
 surrender. 
 
 ' Others again, perhaps comparatively strangers to the ques- 
 tion, and not prejudiced, or not strongly prejudiced, against 
 your conclusion, but ready to admit it if supported by sufficient 
 arguments, will sometimes, if your arguments are very much 
 beyond what is sufficient, have their suspicions roused by this 
 very circumstance. ' Can it be possible/ they will say, ' that a 
 conclusion so very obvious as this is made to appear, should 
 not have been admitted long ago ? Is it conceivable that such 
 and such eminent philosophers, divines, statesmen, &c., should 
 have been all their lives under delusions so gross?' Hence 
 they are apt to infer, either that the author has mistaken the 
 opinions of those he imagines opposed to him, or else, that 
 there is some subtle fallacy in his arguments/ 1 
 
 This is a distrust that reminds one of the story related by a 
 French writer, M. Say, of some one who, for a wager, stood a 
 whole day on one of the bridges in Paris, offering to sell a five- 
 franc piece for one franc, and (naturally) not finding a purchaser. 
 Tn this way the very clearness and force of the demonstration 
 will, with some minds, have an opposite tendency to the one 
 desired. Labourers who are employed in driving wedges into a 
 block of wood, are careful to use blows of no greater force than 
 is just sufficient. If they strike too hard, the elasticity of the 
 wood will throw out the wedge. 
 
 It may be noticed here that the effect produced by any 
 writing or speech of an argumentative character, on any subjects 
 on which diversity of opinion prevails, may be compared sup- 
 posing the argument to be of any weight to the effects of a 
 fire-engine on a conflagration. That portion of the water which 
 falls on solid stone walls, is poured out where it is not needed. 
 That, again, which falls on blazing beams and rafters, is cast off 
 in volumes of hissing steam, and will seldom avail to quench 
 the fire. But that which is poured on wood- work that is just 
 beginning to kindle, may stop the burning ; and that which 
 wets the rafters not yet ignited, but in danger, may save them 
 
 Elements of Rhetoric, Part I. ch. iii.
 
 Essay xlvii.] Annotations. 485 
 
 from catching fire. Even so, those who already concur with 
 the writer as to some point, will feel gratified with, and perhaps 
 bestow high commendation on an able defence of the opinions 
 they already held ; and those, again, who have fully made up 
 their minds on the opposite side, are more likely to be displeased 
 than to be convinced. But both of these parties are left nearly 
 in the same mind as before. Those, however, who are in a 
 hesitating and doubtful state, may very likely be decided by 
 forcible arguments. And those who have not hitherto consi- 
 dered the subject, may be induced to adopt opinions which they 
 find supported by the strongest reasons. But the readiest and 
 warmest approbation a writer meets with, will usually be from 
 those whom he has not convinced, because they were convinced 
 already. And the effect the most important and the most diffi- 
 cult to be produced, he will usually, when he does produce it, 
 hear the least of. Those whom he may have induced to recon- 
 sider, and gradually to alter, previously fixed opinions, are not 
 likely, for a time at least, to be very forward in proclaiming the 
 change. 
 
 It is worth observing however that as a stream of water 
 will sometimes a little allay the fierceness of a flame which it 
 cannot extinguish, so, very forcible reasons even when they 
 fail to convince some who have resolutely made up their minds, 
 will sometimes a little mitigate their violence, when they come 
 to reflect that it is at least evident there is something to be said 
 on both sides. 
 
 One of the most troublesome kinds of person to deal with, 
 in any kind of negotiation, is a caviller. Of these, some are 
 such from insidious design, and some from intellectual deficiency. 
 A caviller is on the look-out for objections, valid or invalid, to 
 everything that is proposed, or done, or said ; and will seldom 
 fail to find some. No power, no liberty, can be entrusted to 
 any one, which may not, possibly or conceivably, be abused ; 
 and the caviller takes for granted that it always will be abused ; 
 that everything that is left to any one's discretion, must be 
 left to his indiscretion ; and that, in short, no one will ever be 
 restrained from doing any thing that he may do, by a sense of 
 honour, or by common prudence, or by regard for character. 
 
 It would be easy for such a man to prove a priori, that it is
 
 486 Of Negotiating. [Essay xlvii. 
 
 impossible for such a system as the British Constitution to 
 work well, or to continue to subsist at all. The King may put 
 his veto on a Bill which has passed both Houses ; and when 
 this is done, the Public will refuse supplies ; and so, the govern- 
 ment must come to a dead lock. Or, the King may create a 
 great batch of Peers, and bribe a majority of the Commons, 
 and so make himself absolute. Or again, the King may pardon 
 all criminals, and thus nullify the administration of justice. Or 
 again, he may appoint to all the Bishopricks, and to a great 
 number of Livings, men of Socinian or Romish tendencies, who 
 will explain away all our formularies, and wholly subvert the 
 system of our Church. 
 
 The institution of an Order of persons called Parochial Visi- 
 tors, having the office of assisting and acting under the Minister 
 of each parish, and serving as a medium of communication be- 
 tween him and the parishioners, and standing in a relation to 
 each, analogous to that of the attendants in an hospital towards 
 the physician and the patients this has been assailed in a 
 similar way by cavillers. ' Are these Visitors/ it was said, ' to 
 have the cure of souls ? Are they to expound Scripture to the 
 people, and give them religious instruction and admonitions, 
 just as the pastor does ? If so, they ought to be regularly 
 ordained clergymen ; and should be called curates. Or, are they 
 merely to be the bearers of communications between the people 
 and the pastor, and not to venture, without his express orders, 
 to read a passage of Scripture to a sick man, or to explain to 
 him the meaning of such words as ' Publican' or ' Pharisee?' 
 In that case they will fall into contempt as triflers/ 
 
 If you answer that they are not to be so rigidly restricted as 
 that ; but are to reserve for the Minister any important or diffi- 
 cult points ; the caviller will reply 'And who is to be the judge 
 what are the most important and difficult points, and what 
 the easier and more obvious. If this is to be left to the discre- 
 tion of the Visitor himself, he will take everything into his 
 own hands ; but if it is to be referred to the Minister, then, the 
 Visitor will be nothing but a mere messenger/ In like manner 
 it might be asked, whether the nurse in an hospital is to admi- 
 nister or withhold medicines, and perform surgical operations, 
 at discretion, and, in short, to usurp all the functions of the 
 physician, or whether she is not to be allowed to smooth a
 
 Essay xlvii.] Annotations. 487 
 
 patient's pillow, or moisten his lips, or wipe his brow, without a 
 written order from the doctor. 
 
 The Israelites in the Wilderness were perverse enough, no 
 doubt; but if there had been cavillers among them, it would 
 have been easy to find plausible objections to the appointment 
 by Moses of the seventy Elders, who were to decide all small 
 matters, and to reserve the weightier ones for him. ' Who is 
 to be the judge/ it might have been said, ' which are the 
 weightier causes ? If, the Elders themselves, then they may 
 keep all matters in their own hands, and leave no jurisdiction at 
 all in Moses : but if he is to be consulted on each point, he will 
 not be saved any trouble at all ; because every case will have to 
 be laid before him/ 
 
 Nevertheless the plan did seem on the whole to work well ; 
 and so it was found, in practice, with the institution of Parochial 
 Visitors ; and so, with the British Constitution. 
 
 One course generally adopted by the caviller, with respect to 
 any proposal that is brought forward, is, if it be made in general 
 terms, to call for detailed particulars, and to say, ' explain dis- 
 tinctly what kind of regulations you wish for, and what are the 
 changes you think needful, and who are the persons to whom 
 you would entrust the management of the matter/ &c. If again, 
 any of these details are given, it will be easy to find some 
 plausible objection to one or more of these, and to join issue on 
 that point, as involving the whole question. Sancho Panza's 
 Baratarian physician did not at once lay down the decision that 
 his patient was to have no dinner at all ; but only objected to 
 each separate dish to which he was disposed to help himself. 
 
 The only way to meet a caviller is to expose the whole system 
 of cavilling, and say, ' If I had proposed so and so, you would 
 have had your cavil ready ; just as you have now/ 
 
 But in proposing any scheme, the best way is, to guard, in 
 the first instance, against cavils on details, and establish, first 
 that some thing of such and such a character is desirable ; then 
 proceeding to settle each of the particular points of detail, one 
 by one. And this is the ordinary course of experienced men ; 
 who, as it were, cut a measure into mouthfuls, that it may be 
 the more readily swallowed ; dividing the whole measure into a 
 series of resolutions ; each of which will perhaps pass by a large 
 majority, though the whole at once, if proposed at once as a
 
 Of Negotiating. [Essay xlvii. 
 
 whole, might have been rejected. For, supposing it to consist 
 of four clauses, A, B, C, and D, if out of an assembly of one 
 hundred persons, twenty are opposed to clause A, and eighty in 
 favour of it, and twenty others are opposed to clause B, which 
 is supported by all the rest, and the like with C, and D, then, 
 if the whole were put to the vote at once, there would be a 
 strong majority against it : whereas, if divided, there would be 
 that majority in favour of it. 
 
 It is fairly to be required, however, that a man should 
 really have though he may not think it wise to produce it 
 in the first instance some definite plan for carrying into effect 
 whatever he proposes. Else, he may be one of another class of 
 persons as difficult to negotiate with, and as likely to baffle any 
 measure, as the preceding. There are some, and not a few, 
 who cast scorn on any sober practical scheme by drawing bright 
 pictures of a Utopia which can never be realized ; either from 
 their having more of imagination than judgment, or from a 
 deliberate design to put one out of conceit with everything that 
 is practicable, in order that nothing may be done. 
 
 E. g. ' What is wanted, is, not this and that improvement in 
 the mode of electing Members of Parliament, but a Parliament 
 consisting of truly honest, enlightened, and patriotic men. It 
 is vain to talk of any system of Church-government, or of 
 improved Church-discipline, or any alterations in our Services, 
 or revision of the Bible-translation ; what we want is a zealous 
 and truly evangelical ministry, who shall assiduously inculcate 
 on all the People pure Gospel-doctrine. It is vain to cast cannon 
 and to raise troops; what is wanted, for the successful conduct 
 of the war, is a large army of well-equipped and well-disciplined 
 men, under the command of generals who are thoroughly masters 
 of the art of war/ &c. And thus one may, in every department 
 of life, go on indefinitely making fine speeches that can lead to 
 no practical result, except to create a disgust for everything that 
 is practical. 
 
 When (in 1832) public attention was called to the enormous 
 mischiefs arising from the system of Transportation, we were 
 told in reply, in a style of florid and indignant declamation, that 
 the real cause of all the enormities complained of, was, a ' want 
 of sufficient fear of God ; (!) and that the only remedy wanted 
 was, an increased fear of God !' As if, when the unheal thine. s
 
 Essay xlvii.] Annotations. 489 
 
 of some locality had been pointed out, and a suggestion had 
 been thrown out for providing sewers, and draining marshes, 
 it had been replied that the root of the evil was, a prevailing 
 want of health ; that it was strange, this the true cause 
 should have been overlooked; and that the remedy of all 
 would be to provide restored health ! 
 
 As for the penal colonies, all that is required to make them 
 efficient, is, we must suppose, to bring in a Bill enacting that 
 ' Whereas, &c., be it therefore enacted, that from and after the 
 first of January next ensuing, all persons shall fear God ! n 
 
 It is such Utopian declaimers that give plausibility to the 
 objections of the cavillers above noticed. 
 
 It is but fair, after one has admitted (supposing it is what 
 ought to be admitted) the desirableness of the end proposed, to 
 call on the other party to say whether he knows, or can thiuk 
 of, any means by which that end can be attained. 
 
 ' In dealing with cunning persons, we must ever consider 
 their ends.' 
 
 It is a most important caution, never to allow yourself to .be 
 entrapped into a confidence. A person will perhaps tell you the 
 particulars of some delicate and important matter, and, at the 
 end, will say ' of course you will not mention to any one what I 
 have been saying. I trust to your honour not to violate the 
 confidence reposed in you/ And if you then give a hasty 
 assent (as the young and unwary are not unlikely to do) you 
 are thenceforward bound by an engagement which perhaps will 
 prove a very troublesome one. The prudent course will be, to 
 reply, ' I have made no promise of secrecy, nor will I make any. 
 If you wished to impart a secret, you should have told me so 
 at the outset ; and I should then have considered maturely 
 whether it were advisable to take on me the office of a Father- 
 Confessor. As it is, I am free to use my own discretion. I 
 do not say that I will, or that I will not, divulge what you have 
 told me. I will act as I may see occasion. But I will not 
 submit to have a confidence forced on me/ 
 
 See Letters to Earl Grey ; and also Lectures on Political Economy.
 
 ESSAY XLVI1I. OF FOLLOWERS AND 
 FRIENDS. 
 
 /MOSTLY followers are not to be liked, lest, while a man 
 \J 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 1 in suits. Ordinary fol- 
 lowers ought to challenge no higher conditions than countenance, 
 recommendation, and protection from wrongs. Factious fol- 
 lowers are worse to be liked, which follow not upon 2 affection 
 to him with whom they range themselves, but upon discontent- 
 ment 3 conceived against some other; whereupon commonly 
 ensueth that ill intelligence 4 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 honour from a man, and make 
 him a return in envy. There is a kind of followers, likewise, 
 which are dangerous, being indeed espials, 6 which inquire the 
 secrets of the house, and bear tales of them to others ; yet such 
 men many times are in great favour, for they are officious, 7 and 
 commonly exchange tales. The following by certain estates 8 of 
 
 1 Importune. Importunate. 
 
 ' More shall thy penytent sighs, his endlesse mercy please ; 
 Than their importune suits which dreame that wordes God's wrathe appease.' 
 
 Surrey. 
 
 2 Upon. In consequence of. ' Upon pity they were taken away ; upon ignorance 
 they were again demanded.' Hayward. 
 
 3 Discontentment. Discontent. ' Tell of your enemies, and discontentments' 
 State Trials, 1600. 
 
 4 111 intelligence. Sad terms. ' He lived rather in a fair intelligence, than in 
 any friendship with the favourites.' Clarendon. 
 
 5 Glorious. Boastful. 
 
 ' We have not 
 
 Received into our bosom, and our grace, 
 A glorious lazy drone.' Massinger. 
 
 6 Espials. Spials ; spies. 
 
 7 Officious. Useful ; doing good offices. 
 
 ' Yet, not to earth are those bright luminaries 
 Officious ; but to thee, earth's habitant.' - Milton. 
 
 8 Estates of men. Orders of men. See page 215.
 
 Essay xlviii.] Of Followers and Friends. 491 
 
 men, answerable to that which a great man himself professeth 
 (as of soldiers to him that hath been employed in the wars, and 
 the like), hath ever been a thing civil, 1 and well taken even in 
 monarchies, so it be without too much pomp or popularity: but 
 the most honourable kind of following is to be followed as one 
 that apprehendeth 2 to advance virtue and desert in all sorts of 
 persons ; and yet, where there is no eminent odds in sufficiency, 3 
 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 discon- 
 tent, 4 because they may claim a due ; but contrariwise in favour, 
 to use men with much difference 5 and election, is good; for it 
 maketh the persons preferred more thankful, and the rest more 
 officious ; because all is of favour. 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, 6 and gives a freedom to 
 scandal and disreputation; 7 for those that would not censure or 
 speak ill of a man immediately, will talk more boldly of those 
 that are so great with them, and thereby wound their honour ; 
 yet to be distracted with many, is worse, for it makes men to 
 be of the last impression, and full of change. To take advice 
 
 1 Civil. Decorous. 
 
 ' Where civil speech and soft persuasion hung.' Pope. 
 
 2 Apprehend. To conceive ; to take in as an object. 
 
 ' Can we want obedience, then, 
 To Him, or possibly his love desert, 
 Who formed us from the dust, and placed us here, 
 Full to the utmost measure of what bliss 
 Human desires can seek, or apprehend.' Milton. 
 
 3 Sufficiency. Ability. See page 291. 
 
 4 Discontent. Discontented. ' The discountenanced and discontent, these the 
 Earl singles out, as best for his purpose.' Hayward. 
 
 * Difference. Distinction. ' Our constitution does not only make a difference 
 between the guilty and the innocent, but even among the guilty, between such as 
 are more or less observed.' Addison. 
 
 6 Softness. Weakness. 
 
 ' Under a shepherd softe and negligent, 
 The wolfe hath many a sheep and lambe to rent.' Chaucer. 
 
 7 Disreputation. Disrepute. ' Gluttony is not in such disreputation among 
 men as drunkenness.' Bishop Taylor.
 
 492 Of Followers and Friends. [Essay xlviii. 
 
 of some few friends, is ever honourable; 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 1 to be magnified. That 
 that is, is between superior and inferior, whose fortunes may 
 comprehend the one the other. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' They taint business through want of secrecy' 
 
 Henry Taylor, in the Statesman, has a good remark on the 
 advantage of trusting thoroughly rather than partially. For 
 there are some who will be more likely to betray one secret, if 
 one only is confided, than if they felt themselves confidants 
 altogether. They will then, he thinks, be less likely to give a 
 boastful proof of the confidence reposed in them, by betray- 
 ing it. 
 
 1 A kind of followers which bear tales' 
 
 It is observable that flatterers are usually tale-bearers. Thus 
 we have in Proverbs the caution, ' He that goeth about as a 
 tale-bearer, revealeth secrets; therefore meddle not with him 
 that flattereth with his lips.' 
 
 ' Lookers-on many times see more than gamesters' 
 
 This proverbial maxim, which bears witness to the advantage 
 sometimes possessed by an observant by-stander over those 
 actually engaged in any transaction, has a parallel in an Irish 
 proverb : 
 
 at) -c 
 
 He is a good hurler that's on the ditch. 1 
 
 1 Wont. Accustomed. See page 459. 
 
 2 In Ireland, a bank is so called.
 
 Essay xlviii.] Annotations. 403 
 
 ' To countenance some extraordinarily is to make them insolent.' 
 
 Men very often raise up some troublesome persons into 
 importance, and afterwards try in vain to get rid of them. So 
 also, they give encouragement to some dangerous principle or 
 practice, in order to serve a present purpose, and then find it 
 turned against themselves. The horse in the fable, who seek- 
 ing aid against his enemy, the stag, had allowed an insidious 
 ally to mount, and to put his bit into his mouth, found it 
 afterwards no easy matter to unseat him. Thus, too, according 
 to the proverb, the little birds, which are chasing about the 
 full-grown cuckoo, had themselves reared it as a nestling. 
 
 ' The Spring was come, and the nest was made, 
 And the little bird all her eggs had laid, 
 When a cuckoo came to the door to beg 
 She would kindly adopt another egg; 
 For I have not leisure, upon my word, 
 To attend to such things, said the roving bird. 
 There was hardly room for them all in the nest, 
 But the egg was admitted along with the rest; 
 And the foster-birds played their part so well, 
 That soon the young cuckoo had chipped the shell : 
 For the silly birds ! they could not see 
 That their foster-chick their plague would be; 
 And so big and saucy the cuckoo grew, 
 That no peace at last in the nest they knew. 
 He peck'd and he hustled the old birds about ; 
 And as for the young ones, he jostled them out. 
 Till at length they summoned their friends to their aid, 
 Wren, robin, and sparrow, not one delayed, 
 And joining together, neighbour with neighbour, 
 They drove out the cuckoo with infinite labour. 
 But the cuckoo was fledged, and laughed to see 
 How they vainly chased him from tree to tree : 
 They had nursed him so well, he was grown the stronger, 
 And now he needed their help no longer.
 
 494 Q/* Followers and Friends. [Essay xlviii. 
 
 Give place, or power, or trust, to none 
 
 Who will make an ill use of what they have won. 
 
 For when you have rear'd the cuckoo-guest, 
 
 'Twill be hard to drive him out of the nest ; 
 
 And harder still, when away he's flown, 
 
 To hunt down the cuckoo now fully grown." 
 
 From a periodical called The True Briton.
 
 ESSAY XLIX. 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, 1 they 
 will be content to win a thank, 2 or take a second 3 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 4 an information, whereof they could not otherwise have 
 apt pretext, without care what become of the suit when the 
 turn is served; or, generally, to make other men's business a 
 kind of entertainment 5 to bring in their own ; nay, some under- 
 take suits with a full purpose to let them fall, to the end to 
 gratify the adverse party, or competitor. Surely there is in 
 some sort a right in every suit : either a right of equity, if it .be 
 a suit of controversy, or a right of desert, if it be a suit of 
 petition. If affection lead a man to favour the wrong side in 
 justice, let him rather use his countenance to compound the 
 matter than to carry it. If affection lead a man to favour the 
 less worthy in desert, let him do it without depraving 6 or dis- 
 abling the better deserver. In suits which a man doth not 
 well understand, it is good to refer them to some friend of trust 
 
 1 Mean. Means. Seepage 213. 
 
 2 A thank. Seldom used in the singular. ' The fool saith I have no thank for 
 all my good deed ; and they that eat my bread speak evil of me.' Ecclus. xx. 16. 
 
 3 Second. Secondary ; inferior. 
 
 ' Each glance, each grace, 
 
 Keep their first lustre and maintain their place, 
 Not second yet to any other face.' Dr'yden. 
 
 4 Make. Give. 'They all with one consent began to make excuse.' Luke 
 xiv. 1 8. 
 
 5 Entertainment. Preliminary communication. ' The queen desires you to 
 some gentle entertainment to Laertes, before you fall to play.' Shakespere. 
 
 6 Deprave To vilify. ' And that knoweth conscience, ich cam nogt to chide, 
 ne to deprave the personne.' Piers Ploughman. 'Envy is blind, and can do 
 nothing but deprave and speak ill of virtuous doing.' Bennett.
 
 496 Of Suitors. [Essay xlix. 
 
 and judgment, that may report whether he may deal in them 
 with honour; but let him chuse well his referendaries/ for else 
 he may be led by the nose. Suitors are so distasted 2 with 
 delays and abuses, 3 that plain dealing in denying to deal in 
 suits at first, and reporting the success barely, and in chal- 
 lenging no more thanks than one hath deserved, is grown not 
 only honourable, but also gracious. In suits of favour, the 
 first coming ought to take little place; 4 so far forth 5 considera- 
 tion 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, 6 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 right thereof is want of conscience. Secrecy in suits is a 
 great mean of obtaining ; for voicing 7 them to be in forwardness 
 may discourage some kind of suitors, but doth quicken 8 and 
 awake others ; but timing of the suit is the principal timing, 
 I say, not only in respect of the person who should grant it, 
 but in respect of those which are like to cross it. Let a man, 
 in the choice of his mean, 9 rather chuse the fittest mean than 
 the greatest mean ; and rather them that deal in certain things, 
 
 1 Referendaries. Referees. 'Who was legate at the dooings, who was 
 referenda/trie, who was presidente, who was presented Bishop Jewell. 
 
 ~ Distaste. To disgitst. 'These new edicts, that so distaste the people.' 
 ffeywood. 
 
 3 Abuses. Deception. 
 
 ' Lend me your kind pains to find out this abuse.' ShaJcespere. 
 
 4 Place. Effect. 
 
 ' Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him, 
 That they take place, when virtue's steely bones 
 Look bleak in the cold wind.' Shakespere. 
 
 5 So far forth. To the degree. ' The substance of the service of God, so far 
 forth as it hath in it anything more than the love of reason doth teach, must not 
 
 be invented of man, but received from God himself.' Hooker. 
 ' Arraied for this feste, in every wise 
 
 So far forth as his connynge may suffice.' Chaucer. 
 8 Note. Notification ; information. 
 
 ' She that from Naples 
 
 Can have no note, unless the sun were past, 
 (The man i' the moon's too slow.)' Shakespere. 
 
 7 Voice. To report. ' It was voiced that the king proposed to put to death 
 Edward Plantagenet.' Shakespere. 
 
 8 Quicken. To bring to life. See page 441. 
 
 9 Mean. Instrument. ' Pamela's noble heart would needs gratefully make 
 known the valiant mean of her safety.' Sidney.
 
 Essay xlix.] Annotation. 497 
 
 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 favour ; but other- 
 wise, a man were better rise in his suit, for he that would have 
 ventured at first to have lost 2 the suitor, will not, in the con- 
 clusion, lose both the suitor and his own former favour. 
 
 Nothing is thought so easy a request to a great person, as his 
 letter ; and yet, if it be not in a good cause, it is so much out 
 of his reputation. There are no worse instruments than these 
 general contrivers of suits, for they are but a kind of poison 
 and infection to public proceedings. 
 
 ANNOTATION. 
 
 1 If it be not in a good cause, it is so much out of his 
 reputation.' 
 
 To this very just and important remark Bacon might have 
 added, that even in ' a good cause/ a recommendation of any 
 one is likely to be regarded as a favour asked, for which a return 
 will be expected. Nor is this, perhaps, altogether unreasonable. 
 For, a Minister of State, for instance, may say, ' if we had 
 wanted your advice for our own sake, we should have consulted 
 you ; but if you offer a suggestion unasked, our complying with 
 it must be reckoned a kindness done to you, for which we may 
 expect a return/ And one who has laid himself under an 
 obligation to a Minister, if he is afterwards asked to vote, or to 
 dispense patronage, contrary to his own judgment, must feel it 
 very awkward either to comply or to refuse. 
 
 The best course, in general is, to write a letter to the person 
 himself whose views you would promote, expressing your 
 opinion of him, with liberty to show the letter, and to make 
 reference to you for character. 
 
 1 Ask for what is unjust, in order that thou mayest obtain what is just.' 
 
 2 Lost. Ruined. 
 
 ' Therefore mark my counsel 
 .... or both yourself and me 
 Cry, lost.' Sltakespere. 
 K K
 
 ESSAY L. OF STUDIES. 
 
 OTUDIES serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. 
 Their chief use for delight, is in privateness 1 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 affecta- 
 tion ; to make 2 judgment wholly by their rules, is the humour 
 of a scholar; they perfect nature, and are perfected by expe- 
 rience for natural abilities are like natural plants, that need 
 pruning by study; and studies themselves do give forth direc- 
 tions 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; 3 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 4 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 
 
 1 Privateness. Privacy. Seepage 115. * Make. Give. See page 495. 
 
 3 Curiously. Attentively. ' At first I thought there had been no light reflected 
 from the water; but observing it more curiously, I saw within it several spots, 
 which appeared darker than the rest.' Sir Isaac Newton. 
 
 * Would. Should. See page 352.
 
 Essay 1.] Of Studies. 
 
 499 
 
 need have a present wit ; and if he read little, he had need have 
 much cunning, to seem to know that 1 he doth not. 
 
 Histories make men wise; poets witty; the mathematics subtle; 
 natural philosophy deep ; moral, grave ; logic and rhetoric, ahle to 
 contend : ' Abeunt studia in mores' 2 nay, there is no stond 3 or 
 impediment in the wit, but may be wrought 4 out by fit studies, 
 like as diseases of the body may have appropriate exercises 
 bowling is good for the stone and reins, 5 shooting for the lungs 
 and breast, gentle walking for the stomach, riding for the head, 
 and the like. So, if a man's wits be wandering, let him study 
 the mathematics; for in 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, 6 let him study the schoolmen, 
 for they are ( cymini sectores ;' 7 if he be not apt to beat over 
 matters, and to call upon one thing to prove and illustrate 
 another, let him study the lawyers' cases so every defect of 
 the mind may have a special receipt. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON STUDIES. 
 
 PRO. CONTBA. 
 
 ' Lectio est conversatio cum prudeii- ' Quse unquain ars docuit tempesti- 
 
 tibus ; actio fere cum stultis. vum artis usnm ? 
 
 ' In reading, we hold converse with ' What art has ever taught us the 
 
 the wise ; in the business of life, gene- suitable use of an art ? ' 
 rally with the foolish.' 
 
 Artis ssepissime ineptus usus est, ne 
 
 ' Non inutiles scientise existimandse sit nullus. 
 
 sunt, quarum in se nullus est usus, si ' A branch of knowledge is often put 
 
 ingenia acuant, et ordineut. to an improper use, for fear of its being 
 
 ' We should not consider even those idle.' 
 sciences which have no actual practical 
 application in themselves, as without 
 value, if they sharpen and train the intel- 
 lect.' 
 
 1 That. What. See page 82. 
 
 - ' Moral habits are influenced by studies.' 
 
 3 Stond. Hindrances. See page 434. 
 
 4 Wrought. Worked. ' Who, through faith, wrought righteousness.' Heft. xi. 
 33. ' How great is Thy goodness, which Thou hast wrought for them that trust 
 in Thee ! ' Psalm xxxi. 19. 
 
 * Reins. Kidneys; inward parts. 'Whom I shall see for myself, though my 
 reins be consumed within me.' Job xix. 27. 
 
 6 Differences. Distinctions. See page 491. 
 
 7 ' Splitters of cummin.' 
 
 K K 2
 
 500 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' Studies serve for deliyht,for ornament, and for ability' 
 
 We should, then, cultivate, not only the corn-fields of our 
 minds, but the pleasure-grounds also. Every faculty and every 
 study, however worthless they may be, when not employed in 
 the service of God, however debased and polluted when de- 
 voted to the service of sin, become ennobled and sanctified, 
 when directed, by one whose constraining motive is the love of 
 Christ, towards a good object. Let not the Christian then 
 think ' scorn of the pleasant land/ That land is the field of 
 ancient and modern literature of philosophy, in almost all its 
 departments of the arts of reasoning and persuasion. Every 
 part of it may be cultivated with advantage, as the Land of 
 Canaan when bestowed upon God's peculiar People. They were 
 not commanded to let it lie waste, as incurably polluted by the 
 abominations of its first inhabitants; but to cultivate it, and 
 dwell in it, living in obedience to the divine laws, and dedicating 
 its choicest fruits to the Lord their God. 
 
 ' Crafty men contemn studies.' 
 
 It is not unlikely that by the ' crafty' (in the Latin c cal- 
 lidi') Bacon meant not exactly what the word now denotes, but 
 in agreement with the ancient use of the word ' craft/ for an 
 occupation' what we commonly call practical men ; those ex- 
 pert in the details of business, and exclusively conversant in 
 these. Some such men resemble a clock with a minute-hand 
 but no hour-hand. These are apt to take for granted that a 
 student, and especially an author, must be unfit for business. 
 And the vulgar sometimes go further, and are disposed to give 
 a man credit for practical sagacity, merely on account of his 
 being illiterate. 
 
 It is worth observing that some of those who disparage some 
 branch of study in which they are deficient, will often affect 
 more contempt for it than they really feel. And not unfre- 
 
 1 See Acts xix. 25-27.
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 
 
 501 
 
 quently they will take pains to have it thought that they are 
 themselves well versed in it, or that they easily might be, if 
 they thought it worth while ; in short, that it is not from 
 hanging too high that the grapes are called sour. 
 
 Thus, Swift, in the person of Gulliver, represents himself, 
 while deriding the extravagant passion for Mathematics among 
 the Laputans, as being a good mathematician. Yet he betrays 
 his utter ignorance, by speaking of ' a pudding iu the form of 
 a cycloid :' evidently taking a cycloid for a figure, instead of 
 a line. This may help to explain the difficulty he is said to 
 have had in obtaining his Degree. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield, again, when writing to his son in dispa- 
 ragement of classical studies, gives him to understand that he 
 is himself quite at home in the classics. But when he pro- 
 ceeds to criticise Homer for celebrating the courage of Achilles, 
 who could show none, being invulnerable, he betrays his having 
 never read even a translation of the Iliad. For not only does 
 Homer make no mention of his hero's being invulnerable, but 
 he even represents him as receiving a wound ; and a great 
 part of the poem turns on his being detained from the fight for 
 want of his armour. 
 
 The contempt of studies, whether of crafty men or narrow- 
 minded men, often finds its expression in the word 'smatter- 
 ing ;' and the couplet is become almost a proverb, 
 
 ' A little learning is a dangerous thing ; 
 Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.' 
 
 But the poet's remedies for the dangers of a little learning are 
 both of them impossible. None can ' drink deep' enough to be, 
 in truth, anything more than very superficial ; and every human 
 Being, that is not a downright idiot, must taste. 
 
 It is plainly impossible that any man should acquire a know- 
 ledge of all that is to be known, on all subjects. But is it then 
 meant that, on each particular subject on which he does learn 
 anything at all, he should be perfectly well informed ? Here it 
 may fairly be asked, what is the ' well ?' how much knowledge 
 is to be called ' little' or ' much ?' For, in many departments, 
 the very utmost that had been acquired by the greatest profi- 
 cients, a century and a half back, falls short of what is familiar 
 to many a boarding-school miss now. And it is likely that our
 
 502 Of Studies. [Essay 1, 
 
 posterity, a century arid a half hence, will in many things be 
 just as much in advance of us. And in most subjects, the 
 utmost knowledge that any man can attain to, is but ' a little 
 learning' in comparison of what he remains ignorant of. The 
 view resembles that of an American forest, in which the more 
 trees a man cuts down, the greater is the expanse of wood he 
 sees around him. 
 
 But supposing you define the ' much' and the ' little' with 
 reference to the existing state of knowledge in the present age 
 and country, would anyone seriously advise that those who are 
 not proficients in astronomy should remain ignorant whether 
 the earth moves, or the sun? that unless you are complete 
 master of agriculture, as far as it is at present understood,there 
 is no good in your knowing wheat from barley ? that unless 
 you are such a Grecian as Porson, you had better not learn to 
 construe the Greek Testament ? 
 
 The other recommendation of the poet, ' taste not' that is to 
 say, have no learning, is equally impossible. The truth is, every- 
 body has, and everybody ought to have, a slight and superficial 
 knowledge a ' smattering,' if you will of more subjects than 
 it is possible for the most diligent student to acquire thoroughly. 
 It is very possible, and also very useful, to have that slight 
 smattering of chemistry which will enable one to distinguish 
 from the salts used in medicine, the oxalic acid, with which, 
 through mistake, several persons have been poisoned. Again, 
 without being an eminent botanist, a person may know what 
 it is most important to know the difference between cherries 
 and the berries of the deadly nightshade ; the want of which 
 knowledge has cost many lives. 
 
 Again, there is no one, even of those who are not profound 
 politicians, who is not aware that we have Rulers ; and is it not 
 proper that he should understand that government is necessary 
 to preserve our lives and property ? Is he likely to be a worse 
 subject for knowing that ? That depends very much on the 
 kind of government you wish to establish. If you wish to 
 establish an unjust and despotic government or, if you wish 
 to set up a false religion then it would be advisable to avoid 
 the danger of enlightening the people. But if you wish to 
 maintain a good government, the more the people understand 
 the advantages of such a government, the more they will respect
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 503 
 
 it ; and the more they know of true religion, the more they 
 will value it. 
 
 There is nothing more general among uneducated people than 
 a disposition to socialism ; and yet nothing is more injurious to 
 their own welfare. An equalization of wages would be most in- 
 jurious to themselves ; for it would, at once, destroy all emulation. 
 All motives for the acquisition of skill, and for superior in- 
 dustry, would he removed. Now, it is but a little knowledge of 
 political economy that is needed for the removal of this error j 
 but that little is highly useful. 
 
 Again, every one knows, no matter how ignorant of medicine, 
 that there is such a thing as disease. But as an instance of 
 the impossibility of the ' taste not' recommendation of the 
 poet, a fact may be mentioned, which is known to most. 
 When the cholera broke out in Poland, the peasantry of that 
 country took it into their heads that the nobles were poisoning 
 them, in order to clear the country of them ; they believed the 
 rich to be the authors of that terrible disease ; and the conse- 
 quence was that the peasantry rose in masses, broke into the 
 houses of the nobility, and finding some chloride of lime, which 
 had been used for the purpose of disinfecting, they took it for 
 the poison which had caused the disease ; and they murdered 
 them. Now, that was the sort of ' little learning' which was 
 very dangerous. 
 
 Again, we cannot prevent people from believing that there is 
 some superhuman Being who has regard to human affairs. 
 Some clowns in the Weald of Kent, who had been kept as 
 much as possible on the ( taste not' system, left in a state of 
 gross ignorance, yet believed that the Deity did impart special 
 powers to certain men : and that belief, coupled with excessive 
 stupidity, led them to take an insane fanatic for a prophet. In 
 this case, this ' little learning' actually caused an insurrection 
 in his favour, in order to make him king, priest, and prophet of 
 the British empire ; and many lives were sacrificed before this 
 insane insurrection was put down. If a ' little learning' is a 
 ' dangerous thing/ you will have to keep people in a perfect 
 state of idiotcy in order to avoid that danger. I would, there- 
 fore, say that both the recommendations of the poet are im- 
 practicable. 
 
 The question arises, what are we to do ? Simply to impress
 
 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 upon ourselves and upon all people the importance of labouring 
 in that much neglected branch of human knowledge the know- 
 ledge of our own ignorance ; and of remembering that it is by 
 a confession of real ignorance that real knowledge must be 
 gained. But even when that further knowledge is not attained, 
 still even the knowledge of the ignorance is a great thing in 
 itself; so great, it seems, as to constitute Socrates the wisest 
 of his time. 
 
 Some of the chief sources of unknown ignorance may be worth 
 noticing here. They are to be found in our not being fully aware, 
 
 1 . How inadequate a medium language is for conveying thought. 
 
 2. How inadequate our very minds are for the comprehension 
 of many things. 3. How little we sometimes understand a word 
 which may yet be familiar to us, and which we may use in 
 reasoning. This piece of ignorance is closely connected with the 
 two foregoing. (Hence, frequently, men will accept as an expla- 
 nation of a phenomenon, a mere statement of the difficulty in 
 other words.) 4. How utterly ignorant we are of efficient 
 causes ; and how the philosopher who refers to the ' law of gra- 
 vitation' the falling of a stone to the earth, no further explains 
 the phenomenon than the peasant, who would say it is the 
 nature of it. The philosopher knows that the stone obeys the 
 same law to which all other bodies are subject, and to which, 
 for convenience, he gives the name of gravitation. His know- 
 ledge is only more general than the peasant's ; which, however, 
 is a vast advantage. 5. How many words there are that ex- 
 press, not the nature of the thing they are applied to, but the 
 manner in which they affect us : and which, therefore, give 
 about as correct a notion of those things, as the word ' crooked' 
 would if applied to a stick half immersed in water. (Such is 
 the word Chance, with all its family.) 6. How many causes 
 may and usually do, conduce to the same effect. 7. How liable 
 the faculties, even of the ablest, are, to occasional failure ; so 
 that they shall overlook mistakes (and those often the most at 
 variance with their own established notions) which, when once 
 exposed, seem quite gross even to inferior men. 8. How much 
 all are biassed, in all their moral reasonings, by self-love, or 
 perhaps, rather, partiality to human nature, and other passions. 
 9. Dugald Stewart would add very justly, How little we know 
 of matter ; no more indeed than of mind ; though all are prone
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. CQ c 
 
 to attempt explaining the phenomena of mind by those of mat- 
 ter : for, what is familiar, men generally consider as well under- 
 stood ; though the fact is oftener otherwise. 
 
 The errors arising from these causes, and from not calcu- 
 lating on them, that is, in short, from ignorance of our own 
 ignorance, have probably impeded philosophy more than all 
 other obstacles put together. 
 
 Certain it is, that only by this ignorance of our ignorance can 
 ' a little learning' become 'a dangerous thing/ The dangers 
 of knowledge are not to be compared with the dangers of igno- 
 rance. A man is more likely to miss his way in darkness than 
 in twilight : in twilight than in full sun. And those contemners 
 of studies who say (with Mandeville, in his Treatise against 
 Charity-schools), f If a horse knew as much as a man, I should 
 not like to be his rider/ ought to add, ' If a man knew as little 
 as a horse, I should not like to trust him to ride.' It is indeed 
 possible to educate the children of the poor so as to disqualify 
 them for an humble and laborious station in life; but this 
 mistake does not so much consist in the amount of the know- 
 ledge imparted, as in the kind and the manner of education. 
 Habits early engrafted on children, of regular attention, of 
 steady application to what they are about, of prompt obedience 
 to the directions they receive, of cleanliness, order, and decent 
 and modest behaviour, cannot but be of advantage to them in 
 after life, whatever their station may be. And certainly, their 
 familiar acquaintance with the precepts and example of Him 
 who, when all stations of life were at his command, chose to be 
 the reputed son of a poor mechanic, and to live with peasants 
 and fishermen ; or, again, of his apostle Paul, whose own hands 
 ' ministered to his necessities/ and to those of his companions : 
 such studies, I say, can surely never tend to unfit any one for 
 a life of humble and contented industry. 
 
 What, then, is the ' smattering' the imperfect and superficial 
 knowledge that really does deserve contempt ? A slight and 
 superficial knowledge is justly condemned, when it is put in the 
 place of more full and exact knowledge. Such an acquaintance 
 with chemistry and anatomy, e.g., as would be creditable, and 
 not useless, to a lawyer, would be contemptible for a physician ; 
 and such an acquaintance with law as would be desirable for 
 him, would be a most discreditable smattering for a lawyer*
 
 506 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 It is to be observed that the word smattering is applied to 
 two different kinds of scanty knowledge the rudimentary and 
 the superficial; though it seems the more strictly to belong to 
 the latter. Now, as it is evident that no one can learn all 
 things perfectly, it seems best for a man to make some pursuit 
 his main object, according to. first, his calling ; secondly, his 
 natural bent ; or thirdly, his opportunities : then, let him get a 
 slight knowledge of what else is worth it, regulated in his choice 
 by the same three circumstances ; which should also determine, 
 in great measure, where an elementary, and where a superficial 
 knowledge is the more desirable. Such as are of the most dig- 
 nified and philosophical nature are most proper for elementary 
 study; and such as we are the most likely to be called upon to prac- 
 tise for ourselves, the most proper for superficial. E.g., it would 
 be to most men of no practical use, and, consequently, not worth 
 while, to learn by heart the meaning of some of the Chinese 
 characters ; but it might be very well worth while to study the 
 principles on which that most singular language is constructed : on 
 the other hand, there is nothing very curious or interesting in the 
 structure of the Portuguese language ; but if one were going to 
 travel in Portugal, it would be worth while to pick up some words 
 and phrases. If both circumstances conspire, then, both kinds 
 of information are to be sought for ; and such things should be 
 learned a little at both ends ; that is, to understand the ele- 
 mentary and fundamental principles, and also to know some of 
 the most remarkable results a little of the rudiments, and a 
 little of what is most called for in practice. E.g., a man who 
 has not made any of the physical or mathematical sciences his 
 favourite pursuit, ought yet to know the principles of geome- 
 trical reasoning, and the elements of mechanics ; and also know, 
 by rote, something of the magnitude, distances, and motions of 
 the heavenly bodies, though without having gone over the inter- 
 mediate course of scientific demonstration. 
 
 Grammar, Logic, Rhetoric, and Metaphysics, (or the philosophy 
 of Mind,) are manifestly studies of an elementary nature, being 
 concerned about the instruments which we employ in effecting 
 our purposes ; and Ethics, which is, in fact, a branch of meta- 
 physics, may be called the elements of conduct. Such know- 
 ledge is far from showy. Elements do not much come into 
 sight ; they are like that part of a bridge which is under water,
 
 Essay ].] Annotations. 507 
 
 and is therefore least admired, though it is not the work of least 
 art and difficulty. Ou this ground it is suitable to females, as 
 least leading to that pedantry which learned ladies must ever 
 be peculiarly liable to, as well as least exciting that jealousy to 
 which they must ever be exposed, while learning in them con- 
 tinues to be a distinction. A woman might, in this way, be very 
 learned without any one's finding it out. 
 
 It may be worth while to suggest, that any student who is 
 conscious of some indolence, and a disposition to procrastinate, 
 Avill do well to task himself; laying down some rules not hard 
 ones which he resolves to conform to, strictly. If, for in- 
 stance, he has a mind to master some science or language, or 
 to read through some book, or to write one, let him resolve to 
 sit down to this work and do something of it, however little, 
 every day, or on certain fixed days in every week, as the case 
 may be. And it will often happen, that when, in compliance 
 with his rule, he does thus set himself, perhaps reluctantly, to 
 the task, he will, on some days, go beyond his resolution, and 
 make a sensible progress. But if he had allowed himself to 
 wait for the humour, it might, perhaps, have never come at 
 all. 
 
 But the rule should be, as I have said, not a severe one; 
 lest, like over-severe laws, (and a resolution is a self-imposed 
 law,) it should be violated ; according to the Proverb, that 
 ' Wide will wear, but tight will tear.' 1 
 
 A. B. was a young man of respectable ability, who was 
 making such encouraging progress in studying at college for 
 his Degree, that he was in a fair way to gain a high Honour. 
 He was obliged, however, to go, for his health, to pass a winter 
 in another country, where he had many relatives. A friend 
 advised him to form a resolution to. sit down to his studies 
 happen what might for one hour every day, and to let nothing 
 divert him from this ; never allowing any extra work on one day 
 to compensate for a departure from the rule, the next. You 
 will thus, said he, make sure of at least retaining what you 
 have acquired ; which, otherwise, you will, in the present stage, 
 be liable rapidly to lose. 
 
 Oh, he replied, I mean to study hard : I shall read eight hours 
 
 See Proverbs and Precepts.
 
 508 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 a day during the whole of my absence. Well, said his friend, 
 your resolve to read at least one hour, will be no impediment 
 to your doing more. But I fear that numerous invitations to 
 parties, &c., will call you off; and if you calculate on doing 
 much, it may end in your doing nothing. 
 
 He was deaf, however, to this reasoning, and went off, 
 designing, and continuing to design, for nearly a year, to begin 
 to-morrow, or next week, reading eight hours a-day. And he 
 came home without having once opened his books; and was 
 so disheartened at finding that he had forgotten as much as 
 it would cost him several months' hard work to recover, so as 
 to put himself just where he had been before his departure, 
 that he abandoned his studies in disgust, and never did any- 
 thing to signify for the rest of his life. 
 
 t Read not to contradict and confute ; nor to believe and take for 
 
 granted.' 
 
 With respect to the deference due to the opinions (written 
 or spoken) of intelligent and well-informed men, it may be 
 remarked, that before a question has been fully argued, there is 
 a presumption that they are in the right ; but afterwards, if 
 objections have been brought which they have failed to answer, 
 the presumption is the other way. The wiser, and the more 
 learned, and the more numerous, are those opposed to you, and 
 the more strenuous and persevering their opposition, the greater 
 is the probability that if there were any flaw in your argument 
 they would have refuted you. And therefore your adhering to 
 an opposite opinion from theirs, so far from being a mark of 
 arrogant contempt, is, in reality, the strongest proof of a high 
 respect for them. For example The strongest confirmation of 
 the fidelity of the translations of Scripture, published by the 
 Irish School-Commissioners, is to be found in the many futile 
 attempts, made by many able and learned men, to detect errors 
 in them. 
 
 This important distinction is often overlooked. 
 
 * Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some 
 few to be chewed and digested.' 
 
 It would have been well if Bacon had added some hints as
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 509 
 
 to the mode of study : how books are to be chewed, and swal- 
 lowed, and digested. For, besides inattentive readers, who 
 measure their proficiency by the pages they have gone over, it 
 is quite possible, and not uncommon, to read most laboriously, 
 even so as to get by heart the words of a book, without really 
 studying it at all; that is, without employing the thoughts on 
 the subject. 
 
 In particular, there is, in reference to Scripture, 1 ' a habit 
 cherished by some persons, of reading assiduously, indeed, 
 but without any attentive reflection and studious endeavour to 
 ascertain the real sense of what they read concluding that 
 whatever impression is found to be left on the mind after a bare 
 perusal of the words, must be what the Sacred Writers designed. 
 They use, in short, little or none of that care which is employed 
 on any other subject in which we are much interested, to read 
 through each treatise consecutively as a whole, to compare one 
 passage with others that may throw light on it, and to consider 
 what was the general drift of the author, and what were the 
 occasions, and the persons he had in view. 
 
 c In fact, the real students of Scripture, properly so called, 
 are, I fear, fewer than is commonly supposed. The theological 
 student is often a student chiefly of some human system of 
 divinity, fortified by references to Scripture, introduced from 
 time to time as there is occasion. He proceeds often uncon- 
 sciously by setting himself to ascertain, not what is the infor- 
 mation or instruction to be derived from a certain narrative or 
 discourse of one of the sacred Writers, but what aid can be 
 derived from them towards establishing or refuting this or that 
 point of dogmatic theology. Such a mode of study surely 
 ought at least not to be exclusively pursued. At any rate, it 
 cannot properly be called a study of Scripture. 
 
 f There is, in fact, a danger of its proving a great hindrance to 
 the profitable study of Scripture ; for, so strong an association is 
 apt to be established in the mind between certain expressions, 
 and the technical sense to which they have been confined in 
 some theological svstem, that when the student meets with 
 
 V 
 
 them in Scripture, he at once understands them in that sense, 
 in passages where perhaps an unbiassed examination of the 
 
 See Essays on the Difficulties of St. Paul's Epistles, Essay x. p. 233.
 
 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 context would plainly show that such was not the author's 
 meaning. And such a student one may often find expressing 
 the most unfeigned wonder at the blindness of those who 
 cannot find in Scripture such and such doctrines, which appear 
 to him to be as clearly set forth there as words can express ; 
 which perhaps they are, on the (often gratuitous) supposition, 
 that those words are everywhere to be understood exactly in 
 the sense which he has previously derived from some human 
 system, a system through which, as through a discoloured 
 medium, he views Scripture. But this is not to take Scripture 
 for one's guide, but rather to make one's self a guide to 
 Scripture. 
 
 ' Others, again, there are, who are habitual readers of the 
 Bible, and perhaps of little else, but who yet cannot properly 
 be said to study anything at all on the subject of religion, 
 because, as was observed just above, they do not even attempt 
 to exercise their mind on the subject, but trust to be sufficiently 
 enlightened and guided by the mere act of perusal, while their 
 minds remain in a passive state. And some, I believe, proceed 
 thus on principle ; considering that they are the better re- 
 cipients of revealed truth the less they exercise their own 
 reason. 
 
 ' But this is to proceed on a totally mistaken view of the 
 real province of reason. It would, indeed, be a great error to 
 attempt substituting for revelation, conjectures framed in our 
 own mind, or to speculate on matters concerning which we 
 have an imperfect knowledge imparted to us by revelation, and 
 could have had, without it, none at all. But this would be, 
 not to use, but to abuse, our rational faculties. By the use of 
 our senses, which are as much the gift of the Creator as any- 
 thing else we enjoy, and by employing our reason on the 
 objects around us, we can obtain a certain amount of valuable 
 knowledge. And beyond this, there are certain other points of 
 knowledge unattainable by these faculties, and which God has 
 thought fit to impart to us by his inspired messengers. But 
 both the volumes that of Nature and that of Revelation 
 which He has thought good to lay before us, are to be carefully 
 studied. On both of them we must diligently employ the 
 faculties with which He, the Author of both, has endued us, if 
 we would derive the full benefit from his gifts.
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 
 
 ' The telescope, we know, brings within the sphere of our 
 own vision much that would be undiscernible by the naked 
 eye ; but we must not the less employ our eyes in making use 
 of it ; and we must watch and calculate the motions, and reason 
 on the appearances, of the heavenly bodies, which are visible 
 only through the telescope, with the same care we employ in 
 respect of those seen by the naked eye. 
 
 ' And an analogous procedure is requisite if we would derive 
 the intended benefit from the pages of inspiration ; which were 
 designed not to save us the trouble of inquiring and reflecting, 
 but to enable us, on some points, to inquire and reflect to better 
 purpose not to supersede the use of our reason, but to supply 
 its deficiencies/ 
 
 Although, however, it is quite right, and most important, 
 that the thoughts should be exercised on the subject of what 
 you are reading, there is one mode of exercising the thoughts 
 that is very hurtful ; which is, that of substituting conjectures 
 for attention to what the author says. Preliminary reflection 
 on the subject is very useful in many cases; though, by the 
 way, it is unsafe as a preparation for the study of Scripture; 
 and, in all studies, care should be taken to guard against 
 allowing the judgment to be biassed by notions hastily and 
 prematurely adopted. And again, after you have studied an 
 author, it will be very advisable (supposing it is an uninspired 
 and consequently fallible one) to reflect on what he says, and 
 consider whether he is right, and how far. 
 
 But while actually engaged in perusal, attend to what the 
 writer actually says, and endeavour fairly to arrive at his 
 meaning, before you proceed to speculate upon it for yourself. 
 
 The study of a book, in short, should be conducted nearly 
 according to the same rule that Bacon lays down for the study 
 of nature. He warns philosophers, earnestly and often, against 
 substituting for what he calls the ' interrogatio naturae/ the 
 'anticipatio naturae/ that is, instead of attentive observation 
 and experiment, forming conjectures as to what seems to us 
 likely, or fitting, according to some hypothesis devised by our- 
 selves. In like manner, in studying an author, you should 
 keep apart interpretation and conjecture. 
 
 A good teacher warns a student of some book in a foreign 
 language that he is learning, not to guess what the author is
 
 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 likely to have meant, and then twist the words into that sense, 
 against the idiom of the language ; but to be led by the words 
 in the first instance ; and then, if a difficulty as to the sense 
 remains, to guess which of the possible meanings of the words 
 is the most likely to be the right. 
 
 E.g. The words in the original of John xviii. 15, ' o aXXoc 
 p.aOr)Tr)Q,' plainly signify 'the other disciple/ and one of the 
 commentators, perceiving that this is inconsistent with the 
 opinion he had taken up, that this disciple was John himself 
 (since John had not been mentioned before, and the Article, 
 therefore, would make it refer to Judas, who alone had been 
 just above named), boldly suggests that the reading must be 
 wrong (though all the MSS. agree in it), and that the Article 
 ought to be omitted, because it spoils the sense; that is, the 
 sense which agrees with a conjecture adopted in defiance of the 
 words of the passage. 
 
 This one instance may serve as a specimen of the way in 
 which some, instead of interpreting an author, undertake to 
 re-write what he has said. 
 
 The like rule holds good in other studies, quite as much as 
 in that of a language. We should be ever on our guard against 
 the tendency to read through coloured spectacles. 
 
 Educational habits of thought, analogies, antecedent reason- 
 ings, feelings, and wishes, &c., will be always leading us to 
 form some conjectural hypothesis, which is not necessarily 
 hurtful, and may sometimes furnish a useful hint, but which 
 must be most carefully watched, lest it produce an unfair bias, 
 and lead you to strain into a conformity with it the words or 
 the phenomena before you. 
 
 A man sets out with a conjecture as to what the Apostles 
 are likely to have said, or ought to have said, in conformity 
 with the theological system he has learnt ; or what the Most 
 High may have done or designed ; or what is, or is not, agree- 
 able to the ' analogy of faith -, ' 1 i.e., of a piece with the Christian 
 system, namely, that which he has been taught, by fallible 
 men, to regard as the Christian system ; and then he proceeds 
 to examine Scripture, as he would examine, with leading 
 questions, a witness whom he had summoned in his cause. 
 
 See Campbell On the Gospels.
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 513 
 
 ' As the fool thinketh, 
 So the bell chinketh.' 
 
 Perhaps he 'prays through ' all the Bible ; not with a candid 
 and teachable mind, seeking instruction, but (unconsciously) 
 praying that he may find himself in the right. And he will 
 seldom fail. 
 
 ' Hie liber est in quo quserit sua dogmata quisque ; 
 
 Invenit et pariter dogmata quisque sua.' 1 
 1 In this book many students seek each one to find 
 
 The doctrine or precept that's most to his mind ; 
 
 And each of them finds what he earnestly seeks ; 
 
 For as the fool thinks, even so the bell speaks.' 
 
 It is the same with philosophy. If you have a strong wish 
 to find phenomena such as to confirm the conjectures you have 
 formed, and allow that wish to bias your examination, you are 
 ill-fitted for interrogating Nature. Both that, and the other 
 volume of the records of what God does, Revelation, are to 
 be interrogated, not as witnesses, but as instructors. You must 
 let all your conjectures hang loose upon you; and be prepared 
 to learn from what is Written in each of those volumes, with 
 the aid of the conjectures of reason ; not from reason (nor, by 
 the bye, from feelings and fancies, and wishes, and human 
 authority), with Scripture for your aid. 
 
 This latter procedure, which is a very common one with 
 theological students, may be called making an anagram of 
 Scripture, taking it to pieces and reconstructing it on the 
 model of some human system of ' Institutes :' building a Temple 
 of one's own, consisting of the stones of the true one, pulled 
 down, and put together in a new fashion. 
 
 Yet Divines of this description are often considered by others 
 as well as by themselves, pre-eminently scriptural, from their 
 continual employment of the very words of Scripture, and their 
 readiness in citing a profusion of texts. But, in reality, instead 
 of using a human commentary on Scripture, they use Scripture 
 itself as a kind of commentary on some human system. They 
 make the warp human, and interweave an abundance of Scrip- 
 ture as a woof; which is just the reverse of the right procedure. 
 
 1 These lines were by Samuel Wesenfels, a Swiss theologian, who lived in the 
 early part of the last century. 
 
 L L
 
 514 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 But this may be called, truly, in a certain sense, 'taking a 
 text from Scripture/ ' preaching such and such a doctrine out 
 of Scripture/ and ' improving Scripture/ 
 
 Thus it is that men, when comparing their opinions with the 
 standard of God's Word, suffer these opinions to bend the rule 
 by which they are to be measured. But he who studies the 
 Scriptures, should remember that he is consulting the Spirit of 
 Truth, and if he would hope for his aid, through whose en- 
 lightening and supporting grace alone those Scriptures can be 
 read with advantage, he must search honestly and earnestly for 
 the truth. 
 
 It is worth remarking that some of the books which are the 
 best worth being ' chewed and digested/ and which perhaps will 
 have produced a lasting effect on the public mind, will be such 
 as have not attained the very first place in immediate popularity. 
 The first place will oftener be gained, for a season, by Writers 
 who understand well how (as Shakespere has expressed it) ' to 
 catch the tune of the times / who bring forward a showy 
 defence of popular prejudices; or who advance amusing and 
 striking paradoxes, which will not bear the test of calm ex- 
 amination, but are made plausible by declamatory eloquence, or 
 by a parade of supposed learning, and pretensions to profound 
 Philosophy ; or who throw themselves into the extreme views 
 of some prevalent Party ; and universally, those who address 
 themselves to (what will ever be the majority) such as are not 
 accurate and clear reasoners, or thoughtful students. 
 
 One who sets himself,. successfully, to bring to light neglected 
 and forgotten truths, and to clear away any prevailing confusion 
 of thought, and to refute popular fallacies, and who addresses 
 himself to the judicious, and considerate, and candid, will indeed 
 perhaps attract no inconsiderable degree of attention, but must 
 be prepared to content himself with the second place in present 
 popularity; though he may be remembered and appreciated 
 when the other class of Writers are forgotten. If you wish 
 your garden to make a fine show, speedily, you must sow it 
 with gaudy Annuals, rather than plant it with forest-trees. 
 
 The former class of Writers resemble the heavy showers 
 which drench the land at once with wet which soon runs off.
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 
 
 The others are like a heavy fall of snow, which lies for a time 
 on the dry surface of the frozen ground, but gradually melts 
 and sinks into the earth to supply the springs for the ensuing 
 summer. 
 
 ' Reading maketh a full man, conference a ready man, and 
 writing an exact man' 
 
 Writing an Analysis, table of Contents, Index, or Notes to 
 any book, is very important for the study, properly so called, of 
 any subject. And so, also, is the practice of previously con- 
 versing or writing on the subject you are about to study. 
 
 I have elsewhere alluded to this kind of practice, 1 and sug- 
 gested to the teacher ' to put before his pupils, previously to 
 their reading each lesson, some questions pertaining to the 
 matter of it; requiring of them answers, oral or written, the 
 best they can think of without consulting the book. Next, let 
 them read the lesson, having other questions, such as may lead 
 to any needful explanations, put before them as they proceed. 
 And afterwards let them be examined (introducing numerous 
 examples framed by themselves, and by the teacher) as to the 
 portion they have learned, in order to judge how far . they 
 remember it. 
 
 ' Of the three kinds of questions, which may be called, 
 i, preliminary questions ; 2,, questions of instruction ; and 
 3, questions of examination, the last alone are, by a consi- 
 derable portion of instructors, commonly employed. And the 
 elementary books commonly known as ' catechisms/ or 'books 
 in question and answer/ consist, in reality, of questions of this 
 description. 
 
 ' But the second kind, what is properly to be called in- 
 structive questioning, is employed by all who deserve to be 
 reckoned good teachers. 
 
 1 The first kind the preliminary questioning is employed 
 (systematically and constantly) but by few. And, at first sight, 
 it might be supposed by those who have not had experience of 
 it, that it would be likely to increase the learners' difficulties. 
 
 1 See Preface to Easy Lessons on Reasoning, p. v. 
 L L 2
 
 5i 6 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 But if any well-qualified instructor will but carefully and judi- 
 ciously try the experiment (in teaching any kind of science), he 
 will be surprised to find to how great a degree this exercise of 
 the student's mind on the subject will contribute to his advance- 
 ment. He will find that what has been taught in the mode 
 above suggested, will have been learnt in a shorter time, will 
 have been far the more thoroughly understood, and will be fixed 
 incomparably the better in the memory/ 
 
 Curiosity is as much the parent of attention, as attention is 
 of memory ; therefore the first business of a teacher first, not 
 only in point of time, but of importance should be to excite, 
 not merely a general curiosity on the subject of the study, but 
 a particular curiosity on particular points in that subject. To 
 teach one who has no curiosity to learn, is to sow a field with- 
 out ploughing it. 
 
 And this process saves a student from being (as many are) 
 intellectually damaged by having a very good memory. For, 
 an unskilful teacher is content to put before his pupils what 
 they have to learn, and ascertaining that they remember it. 
 And thus those of them whose memory is ready and retentive, 
 have their mind left in a merely passive state, and are like a 
 person always carried about in a sedan chair, till he has almost 
 lost the use of his limbs. And then it is made a wonder that 
 a person who has been so well taught, and who was so quick 
 in learning and remembering, should not prove an able man ; 
 which is about as reasonable as to expect that a capacious 
 cistern, if filled, should be converted into a perennial fountain. 
 Many are saved, by the deficiency of their memory, from being 
 spoiled by their education ; for, those who have no extraordinary 
 memory are driven to supply its defects by thinking. If they 
 do not remember a mathematical demonstration, they are driven 
 to devise one. If they do not exactly retain what Aristotle or 
 Smith have said, they are driven to consider what they were 
 likely to have said, or ought to have said. And thus their 
 faculties are invigorated by exercise. 
 
 Now, this kind of exercise a skilful teacher will afford to 
 all ; so that no one shall be spoiled by the goodness of his 
 memory. 
 
 A very common practice may be here noticed, which should
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 
 
 be avoided, if we would create a habit of studying with profit 
 that of making children learn by rote what they do not under- 
 stand. ' It is done on this plea that they will hereafter learn 
 the meaning of what they have been thus taught, and will be 
 able to make a practical use of it. M But no attempt at economy 
 of time can be more injudicious. Let any child whose capacity 
 is so far matured as to enable him to comprehend an explana- 
 tion, e.g., of the Lord's Prayer have it then put before him 
 for the first time, and when he is made acquainted with the 
 meaning of it, set to learn it by heart ; and can any one doubt 
 that, in less than half a day's application, he would be able 
 to repeat it fluently ? And the same would be the case with 
 other forms. All that is learned by rote by a child before 
 he is competent to attach a meaning to the words he utters, 
 would not, if all put together, amount to so much as would 
 cost him, when able to understand it, a week's labour to learn 
 perfectly. Whereas, it may cost the toil, often the vain toil, 
 of many years, to unlearn the habit of formalism of repeating 
 words by rote without attending to their meaning ; a habit 
 which every one conversant with education knows to be, in all 
 subjects, most readily acquired by children, and with difficulty 
 avoided, even with the utmost care of the teacher ; but which 
 such a plan must inevitably tend to generate. It is often said, 
 and very truly, that it is important to form early habits of 
 piety ; but to train a child in one kind of habit, is not the 
 most likely way of forming the opposite one ; and nothing can 
 be more contrary to true piety, than the Romish superstition 
 (for such in fact it is) of attaching efficacy to the repetition of 
 a certain form of words as a charm, independent of the under- 
 standing and of the heart. 
 
 ' It is also said, with equal truth, that we ought to take advan- 
 tage of the facility which children possess of learning words : but 
 to infer from thence, that Providence designs us to make such 
 a use (or rather abuse) of this gift as we have been censuring, is 
 as if we were to take advantage of the readiness with which a 
 new-born babe swallows whatever is put into its mouth, to dose 
 it with ardent spirits, instead of wholesome food and necessary 
 
 1 London Review, No. 2, pp. 412, 413-
 
 5 1 8 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 medicine. The readiness with which children learn and re- 
 member words, is in truth a most important advantage if rightly 
 employed; viz. if applied to the acquiring that mass of what 
 may be called arbitrary knowledge of insulated facts, which can 
 only be learned by rote, and which is necessary in after life ; 
 when the acquisition of it would both be more troublesome, 
 and would encroach on time that might otherwise be better em- 
 ployed. Chronology, names of countries, weights and measures, 
 and indeed all the words of any language, are of this descrip- 
 tion. If a child had even ten times the ordinary degree of 
 the faculty in question, a judicious teacher would find abun- 
 dance of useful employment for it, without resorting to any that 
 could possibly be detrimental to his future habits, moral, reli- 
 gious, or intellectual.' 
 
 One very useful precept for students, is never to remain long 
 puzzling at any difficulty ; but to lay the book and the subject 
 aside, and return to it some hours after, or next day ; after 
 having turned the attention to something else. Sometimes a 
 person will weary his mind for several hours in some efforts 
 (which might have been spared) to make out some difficulty; and 
 next day, when he returns to the subject, will find it quite 
 easy. 
 
 The like takes place in the effort to recollect some name. 
 You may fatigue yourself in vain for hours together ; and if 
 you turn to something else (which you might as well have 
 done at once) the name will, as it were, flash across you with- 
 out an effort. 
 
 There is something analogous to this, in reference to the 
 scent of dogs. When a wounded bird, for instance, has been 
 lost in the thicket, and the dogs fail, after some search, to find 
 it, a skilful sportsman always draws them off, and hunts them 
 elsewhere for an hour, and then brings them back to the spot 
 to try afresh ; and they will often, then, find their game readily; 
 though, if they had been hunting for it all the time, they would 
 have failed. 
 
 It seems as if the dog and the mind having got into a kind 
 of wrong track, continued in the same error, till drawn com- 
 pletely away elsewhere.
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 
 
 Always trust, therefore, for the overcoming of a difficulty, 
 not, to long continued study after you have once got bewildered, 
 but to repeated trials, at intervals. 
 
 It may be here observed that the student of any science or 
 art, should not only distinctly understand all the technical lan- 
 guage, and all the rules of the art, but also learn them by- 
 heart, so that they may be remembered as familiarly as the 
 alphabet, and employed constantly and with scrupulous exact- 
 ness. Otherwise, technical language will prove an encumbrance 
 instead of an advantage; just as a suit of clothes would be, if, 
 instead of putting them on and wearing them, one should carry 
 them about in his hands. 
 
 ' Writing maketh an exact man.' 
 
 It conduces much to mental improvement to keep a Common- 
 place-book, in which to record any valuable remarks you may 
 have heard in conversation, or thoughts that may have occurred 
 to your own mind. And you should not scruple to put down 
 the crudest and wildest speculations ; since when you are writ- 
 ing for no eye but your own, you will not have committed 
 yourself to any erroneous views. 
 
 I would not recommend (as some have done) transcribing 
 long passages out of books that are easily accessible. Mere 
 references will fully answer the purpose, except in the case of 
 any work that is scarce. But you should put down any re- 
 marks that you may have heard made, or that occur to you, 
 respecting what you have been reading. 
 
 Put down the date of every article you enter ; that you may 
 thus have something of a record of your own mental progress ! 
 And write on only one side of the paper, that you may have 
 room for subsequent remarks. 
 
 And I would add, do not encumber yourself at once with a 
 huge book full of blank leaves, which it would take years to 
 fill, and which would be inconvenient for carrying about with 
 you : but use a common copy-book ; and when that is filled, 
 stitch on another to it. 
 
 And take care to keep a table of Contents, with references to
 
 520 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 the pages of your manuscript, so that you may easily refer to 
 any Article you wish to look at. 
 
 I believe hardly any one who adopts this suggestion will fail 
 to find benefit from it. Besides other advantages of greater 
 importance, it will help to cultivate an easy, unaffected, and 
 simple Style of writing; since when a man is writing only for 
 his own use, he will write not as if he wanted to say something, 
 but as if he had something to say. 
 
 ' There is no stond or impediment in the wit, but may be 
 wrought out by fit studies' 
 
 There are some kinds of crops which, besides the direct 
 return to the husbandman, tend to improve the soil; and some 
 are even cultivated for the express and sole purpose of being 
 ploughed in as manure. And so it is with studies : though 
 there is hardly any branch of knowledge of which one could 
 venture to pronounce that it could not, in good hands, prove of 
 direct utility. The calculation of the eclipses of Jupiter's satel- 
 lites, many a man might have been disposed, originally, to re- 
 gard as a most unprofitable study. But the utility of it to navi- 
 gation (in the determination of longitudes) is now well known. 
 
 It is remarkable that the cry of ( What is the use ?' is often 
 in the mouths of persons whose own favourite pursuits are just 
 those whose utility it is the most difficult to make out. A 
 man who was an excellent Greek scholar, knowing the right 
 quantity of every syllable in the language, and skilful in scan- 
 ning a Greek chorus, but quite ignorant of, and contemning, all 
 Philosophy, including that of the ancient Greeks, used to be 
 often saying that he ' did not see the use of all that/ Aris- 
 totle's works he admired as very good Greek ; but neither valued, 
 nor understood, the matter of them. He was compared to the 
 Cossack soldier, of whom the story is told that having found, 
 among his plunder, a finely-embroidered casket full of pearls 
 and precious stones, he emptied out the jewels into the kennel, 
 and eagerly pocketed the casket ! 
 
 Another person (I pledge myself for the truth of the anec- 
 dote) told a friend of his, whom he guessed, he said, to have a 
 natural turn for Logic, that he was impressed with a belief
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 
 
 (though confessing his entire ignorance of it) of the utter use- 
 lessness of the study. He was, himself, an ardent Naturalist ; 
 especially knowing in butterflies. Now without any disparage- 
 ment of the pursuits of the Naturalist, it may surely be doubted 
 whether the investigation of what relates to the Reasoning-pro- 
 cess, which is characteristic of MAN, and which is going on, well 
 or ill, in the mind of every man, every day, can fairly be 
 reckoned either less useful, or, as a mere amusing exercise of 
 the mind (like chess, and other games), less rationally interest- 
 ing, than the examination of the wings of butterflies. 
 
 It is a pity that Bacon did not more fully explain the mode 
 in which different kinds of studies act on the mind. As an ex- 
 ercise of the reasoning faculty, pure mathematics is an admirable 
 exercise, because it consists of reasoning alone, and does not 
 encumber the student with any exercise of judgment : and it is 
 well always to begin with learning one thing at a time, and to 
 defer a combination of mental exercises to a later period. But 
 then it is important to remember that mathematics does not 
 exercise the judgment; and consequently, if too exclusively 
 pursued, may leave the student very ill qualified for moral 
 reasonings. 
 
 1 ' The definitions, which are the principles of our reasoning, 
 are very few, and the axioms still fewer ; and both are, for the 
 most part, laid down and placed before the student in the outset ; 
 the introduction of a new Definition or Axiom being of com- 
 paratively rare occurrence, at wide intervals, and with a formal 
 statement ; besides which, there is no room for doubt concerning 
 either. On the other hand, in all reasonings which regard 
 matters of fact, we introduce, almost at every step, fresh and 
 fresh propositions (to a very great number), which had not been 
 elicited in the course of our reasoning, but are taken for granted ; 
 viz., facts, and laws of nature, which are here the principles of 
 our reasoning, and maxims, or ' elements of belief/ which 
 answer to the axioms in mathematics. If, at the opening of a 
 treatise, for example, on chemistry, on agriculture, on political- 
 economy, &c., the author should make, as in mathematics, a 
 
 1 Elements of Logic.
 
 522 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 formal statement of all the propositions he intended to assume 
 as granted, throughout the whole work, both he and his readers 
 would be astonished at the number ; and, of these, many would 
 be only probable, and there would be much room for doubt as 
 to the degree of probability, and for judgment in ascertaining 
 that degree. 
 
 'Moreover, mathematical axioms are always employed pre- 
 cisely in the same simple form : e. ff., the axiom that ( things 
 equal to the same are equal to one another/ is cited, whenever 
 there is need, in those very words ; whereas the maxims em- 
 ployed in the other class of subjects, admit of, and require, 
 continual modifications in the application of them. E.g., ' the 
 stability of the laws of nature/ which is our constant assump- 
 tion in inquiries relating to natural philosophy, appears in many 
 different shapes, and in some of them does not possess the same 
 complete certainty as in others. E.g., when, from having always 
 observed a certain sheep ruminating, we infer, that this indi- 
 vidual sheep will continue to ruminate, we assume that ' the 
 property which has hitherto belonged to this sheep will remain 
 unchanged/ when we infer the same property of all sheep, we 
 assume that 'the property which belongs to this individual belongs 
 to the whole Species :' if, on comparing sheep with some other 
 kinds of horned animals, 1 and finding that all agree in ruminat- 
 ing, we infer that 'all horned animals ruminate/ we assume 
 that f the whole of a genus or class are likely to agree in any 
 point wherein many species of that genus agree :' or in other 
 words, ' that if one of two properties, &c., has often been found 
 accompanied by another, and never without it, the former will 
 be universally accompanied by the latter/ Now all these are 
 merely different forms of the maxim, that ' nature is uniform 
 in her operations / which, it is evident, varies in expression in 
 almost every different case where it is applied, and the applica- 
 tion of which admits of every degree of evidence, from perfect 
 moral certainty, to mere conjecture. 
 
 ' The same may be said of an infinite number of principles 
 
 1 Viz., having horns on the sJcv.ll. What are called the horns of the rhinoceros 
 are quite different in origin, and in structure, as well as in situation, from what are 
 properly called horns.
 
 Essay L] Annotations. 523 
 
 and maxims appropriated to, and employed in, each particular 
 branch of study. Hence, all such reasonings are, in comparison 
 of mathematics, very complex ; requiring so much more than 
 that does, beyond the process of merely deducing the conclusion 
 logically from the premises : so that it is no wonder that the 
 longest mathematical demonstration should be so much more 
 easily constructed and understood, than a much shorter train 
 of just reasoning concerning real facts. The former has been 
 aptly compared to a long and steep, but even and regular, flight 
 of steps, which tries the breath, and the strength, and the per- 
 severance only; while the latter resembles a short, but rugged 
 and uneven, ascent up a precipice ; which requires a quick eye, 
 agile limbs, and a firm step ; and in which we have to tread 
 now on this side, now on that ever considering, as we proceed, 
 whether this or that projection will afford room for our foot, or 
 whether some loose stone may not slide from under us. There 
 are probably as many steps of pure reasoning in one of the 
 longer of Euclid's demonstrations, as in the whole of an argu- 
 mentative treatise on some other subject, occupying perhaps a 
 considerable volume. 
 
 c Hence it is that mathematical reasoning, as it calls for no 
 exercise of judgment respecting probabilities, is the best kind 
 of introductory exercise; and from the same cause, is apt, 
 when too exclusively pursued, to make men incorrect moral- 
 reasoners. 
 
 ' As for those ethical and legal reasonings which in some 
 respects resemble those of mathematics, (viz. such as keep 
 clear of all assertions respecting facts) they have this 
 difference ; that not only men are not so completely agreed 
 respecting the maxims and principles of Ethics and Law, 
 but the meaning also of each term cannot be absolutely, and 
 for ever, fixed by an arbitrary definition ; on the contrary, a 
 great part of our labour consists in distinguishing accurately the 
 various senses in which men employ each term, ascertaining 
 which is the most proper, and taking care to avoid confounding 
 them together. 
 
 ' It may be worth while to add in this place, that, as a candid 
 disposition, a hearty desire to judge fairly, and to attain truth, 
 are evidently necessary with a view to give fair play to the
 
 524 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 reasoning-powers, in subjects where we are liable to a bias from 
 interests or feelings, so, a fallacious perversion of this maxim 
 finds a place in the minds of some persons : who accordingly 
 speak disparagingly of all exercise of the reasoning-faculty in 
 moral and religious subjects ; declaiming on the insufficiency of 
 mere intellectual power for the attainment of truth in such 
 matters, on the necessity of appealing to the heart rather than 
 to the head, &c., and then leading their readers or themselves 
 to the conclusion that the less we reason on such subjects the 
 safer we are. 
 
 ' But the proper office of candour is to prepare the mind not 
 for the rejection of all evidence, but for the right reception of 
 evidence ; not, to be a substitute for reasons, but to enable us 
 fairly to weigh the reasons on both sides. Such persons as I 
 am alluding to are in fact saying that since just weights alone, 
 without a just balance, will avail nothing, therefore we have 
 only to take care of the scales, and let the weights take care of 
 themselves. 
 
 ' This kind of tone is of course most especially to be found 
 in such writers as consider it expedient to inculcate on 
 the mass of mankind what there is reason to suspect 
 they do not themselves fully believe, and which they appre- 
 hend is the more likely to be rejected the more it is 
 investigated/ * 
 
 A curious anecdote (which I had heard, in substance, some 
 years before) was told me by the late Sir Alexander Johnstone. 
 When he was acting as temporary governor of Ceylon (soon 
 after its cession), he sat once as judge in a trial of a prisoner 
 for a robbery and murder ; and the evidence seemed to him so 
 conclusive, that he was about to charge the jury (who were 
 native Cingalese) to find a verdict of guilty. But one of the 
 jurors asked and obtained permission to examine the witnesses 
 himself. He had them brought in one by one, and cross- 
 examined them so ably as to elicit the fact that they were 
 themselves the perpetrators of the crime, which they afterwards 
 
 * I have inserted in the Appendix to the Elements of Logic, and also in the 
 Edition of Paley's Evidences, some extracts from Writers of this description.
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 525 
 
 had conspired to impute to the prisoner. And they were 
 accordingly put on their trial and convicted. 
 
 Sir A. J. was greatly struck by the intelligence displayed by 
 this juror ; the more, as he was only a small farmer, who was 
 not known to have had any remarkable advantages of education. 
 He sent for him, arid after commending the wonderful sagacity 
 he had shown, inquired eagerly what his studies had been. The 
 man replied that he had never read but one book, the only one 
 he possessed, which had long been in his family, and which he 
 delighted to study in his leisure-hours. This book he was pre- 
 vailed on to show to Sir A. J., who put it into the hands of 
 one who knew the Cingalese language. It turned out to be a 
 translation into that language of a large portion of Aristotle's 
 Organon. It appears that the Portuguese, when they first 
 settled in Ceylon and other parts of the East, translated into the 
 native languages several of the works then studied in the 
 European Universities ; among which were the Latin versions 
 of Aristotle. 
 
 The Cingalese in question said that if his understanding had 
 been in any degree cultivated and improved, it was to that book 
 he owed it. 
 
 It is likely, however (as was observed to me by the .late 
 Bishop Copleston), that any other book, containing an equal 
 amount of close reasoning and accurate definition, might have 
 answered the same purpose in sharpening the intellect of this 
 Cingalese. 
 
 It is very important to warn all readers of the influence 
 likely to be exercised in the formation of their opinions, indi- 
 rectly, and by works not professedly argumentative, such as 
 Poems and Tales. Fletcher of Saltoun said, he would let any 
 one have the making of the laws of a country, if he might have 
 the making of their ballads. 
 
 An observation in the Lectures on Political Economy on one 
 cause which has contributed to foster an erroneous opinion of 
 the superior moral purity of poor and half-civilized countries, 
 is equally applicable to a multitude of other cases, on various 
 subjects. ' One powerful, but little suspected cause, I take to 
 be, an early familiarity with poetical descriptions of pure, unso-
 
 526 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 phisticated, rustic life, in remote, sequestered, and unenlightened 
 districts ; of the manly virtue and practical wisdom of our 
 simple forefathers, before the refinements of luxury had been 
 introduced ; of the adventurous wildness, so stimulating to the 
 imagination, of savage or pastoral life, in the midst of primaeval 
 forests, lofty mountains, and all the grand scenery of unculti- 
 vated nature. Such subjects and scenes are much better 
 adapted for poets than thronged cities, workshops, coalpits, 
 and iron-foundries. And poets, whose object is to please, of 
 course keep out of sight all the odious or disgusting circum- 
 stances pertaining to the life of the savage or the untutored 
 clown, and dwell exclusively on all the amiable and admirable 
 parts of that simplicity of character which they feign or fancy. 
 Early associations are thus formed, whose influence is often the 
 stronger and the more lasting, from the very circumstance 
 that they are formed unconsciously, and do not come in the form 
 of propositions demanding a deliberate assent. Poetry does 
 not profess to aim at conviction ; but it often leaves impressions 
 which affect the reasoning and the judgment. And a false 
 impression is perhaps oftener conveyed in other ways than by 
 sophistical argument; because that rouses the mind to exert its 
 powers, and to assume, as it were, a reasoning mood. M 
 
 The influence exercised by such works is overlooked by those 
 who suppose that a child's character, moral and intellectual, is 
 formed by those books only which are put into his hands \dth 
 that design. As hardly anything can accidentally touch the 
 soft clay without stamping its mark on it, so, hardly any reading 
 can interest a child without contributing in some degree, though 
 the book itself be afterwards totally forgotten, to form the cha- 
 racter ; and the parents, therefore, who, merely requiring from 
 him a certain course of study, pay little or no attention to story- 
 books, are educating him they know not how. 
 
 And here, I would observe, that, in books designed for 
 children, there are two extremes that should be avoided. The 
 
 1 In an article in a Review I have seen mention made of a person who dis- 
 covered the falsity of a certain doctrine (which, hy the way, is nevertheless a true 
 one, that of Malthus) instinctively. This kind of instinct, i. e. the habit of form- 
 ing opinions at the suggestion rather of feeling than of reason, is very common.
 
 Essay L] Annotations. 52 7 
 
 one, a reference to religious principles in connexion with 
 matters too trifling and undignified; arising from a well-inten- 
 tioned zeal, causing a forgetfulness of the maxim whose 
 notorious truth has made it proverbial, ' Too much familiarity 
 breeds contempt/ And the other is the contrary, and still more 
 prevailing, extreme, arising from a desire to preserve a due 
 reverence for religion, at the expense of its useful application in 
 conduct. But a line may be drawn which will keep clear of 
 both extremes. We should not exclude the association of 
 things sacred with whatever are to ourselves trifling matters, 
 (for ' these little things are great' to children), but, with what- 
 ever is viewed by them as trifling. Everything is great or 
 small in reference to the parties concerned. The private 
 concerns of any obscure individual are very insignificant to the 
 world at large, but they are of great importance to himself. 
 And all worldly affairs must be small in the sight of the Most 
 High ; but irreverent familiarity is engendered in the mind of 
 any one, then, and then only, when things sacred are associated 
 with such as are, to him, insignificant things. 
 
 And I would add that those works of fiction are worse 
 than unprofitable that inculcate morality, with an exclusion of 
 all reference to religious principle. This is obviously and noto- 
 riously the character of Miss Edgeworth's moral tales. And 
 so entire and resolute is this exclusion, that it is maintained at 
 the expense of what may be called poetical truth : it destroys, 
 in many instances, the probability of the tale, and the natural- 
 ness of the characters. That Christianity does exist, every one 
 must believe as an incontrovertible fact ; nor can any one deny, 
 that, whether true or false, it does exercise, at least is supposed 
 to exercise, an influence on the feelings and conduct of some 
 of the believers in it. To represent, therefore, persons of 
 various ages, sex, country, and station in life, as practising, on 
 the most trying occasions, every kind of duty, and encountering 
 every kind of danger, difficulty, and hardship, while none of 
 them ever makes the least reference to a religious motive, is as 
 decidedly at variance with reality what is called in works of 
 fiction, unnatural as it would be to represent Mahomet's 
 enthusiastic followers as rushing into battle without any thought 
 of his promised paradise. This, therefore, is a blemish in point
 
 528 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 of art, which every reader possessing taste must perceive, what- 
 ever may be his religious or non-religious persuasion. But a 
 far higher, and more important, question than that of taste is 
 involved. For though Miss Edgeworth might entertain opinions 
 which would not permit her, with consistency, to attribute more 
 to the influence of religion than she has done, and in that case 
 may stand acquitted, in foro conscientice, of wilfully suppressing 
 anything which she acknowledges to be true and important; 
 yet, as a writer, it must still be considered as a great blemish, 
 in the eyes at least of those who think differently, that virtue 
 should be studiously inculcated, with scarcely any reference to 
 what they regard as the mainspring of it that vice should be 
 traced to every other source except the want of religious 
 principle that the most radical change from Avorthlessness to 
 excellence should be represented as wholly independent of that 
 Agent, which they consider as the only one that can accomplish 
 it and that consolation under affliction should be represented 
 as derived from every source, except the one which they look to 
 as the only true and sure one. c Is it not because there is no 
 God in Israel, that ye have sent to inquire of Baalzebub, the 
 God of Ekron?' This vital defect in such works should be 
 constantly pointed out to the young reader ; and he should be 
 warned that, to realize the picture of noble, disinterested, 
 thorough-going virtue, presented in such and such an instance, 
 it is absolutely necessary to resort to those principles which, in 
 these fictions, are unnoticed. He should, in short, be reminded, 
 that all these ' things that are lovely and of good report,' which 
 have been placed before him, are the genuine fruits of the Holy 
 Land ; though the spies who have brought them bring also an 
 evil report of that land, and would persuade us to remain wan- 
 dering in the wilderness. 
 
 The student of history, also, should be on his guard against 
 the indirect influence likely to be exercised on his opinions. 
 l 'An injudicious reader of history is liable to be misled by 
 the circumstance, that historians and travellers occupy them- 
 
 1 Lectures on Political Economy.
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 
 
 selves principally (as is natural) with the relation of whatever is 
 remarkable, and different from what commonly takes place in 
 their own time or country. They do not dwell on the ordinary 
 transactions of human life (which are precisely what furnish the 
 data on which Political-economy proceeds), but on everything 
 that appears an exception to general rules, and in any way such 
 as could not have been anticipated. The sort of information 
 which the Political-economist wants, is introduced, for the most 
 part, only incidentally and obliquely; and is to be collected, 
 imperfectly, from scattered allusions. So that if you will give 
 a rapid glance, for instance, at the history of these islands from 
 the time of the Norman conquest to the present day, you will 
 find that the differences between the two states of the country, 
 in most of the points with which that science is conversant, are 
 but very imperfectly accounted for in the main outline of the 
 narrative. 
 
 ' If it were possible that we could have a full report of the 
 common business and common conversation, in the markets, 
 the shops, and the wharfs of Athens and Piraeus, for a single 
 day, it would probably throw more light on the state of things 
 in Greece at that time, in all that Political-economy is most 
 concerned with, than all the histories that are extant put 
 together. 
 
 ' There is a danger, therefore, that the mind of the student, 
 who proceeds in the manner I have described, may have been 
 even drawn off from the class of facts which are, for the purpose 
 in question, the most important to be attended to. 
 
 ' For, it should be' observed that, in all studies there is a 
 danger to be guarded against, which Bacon, with his usual 
 acuteness, has pointed out : that most men are so anxious to 
 make or seek for, some application of what they have been 
 learning, as not unfrequently to apply it improperly, by endea- 
 vouring, lest their knowledge should lie by them idle, to bring 
 it to bear on some question to which it is irrelevant; like 
 Horace's painter, who, being skilful in drawing a cypress, was 
 for introducing one into the picture of a shipwreck. Bacon 
 complains of this tendency among the logicians and metaphy- 
 sicians of his day, who introduced an absurd and pernicious 
 application of the studies in which they had been conversant, 
 
 M M
 
 53 
 
 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 into natural philosophy : ' Artis saepe ineptus fit usus, ne sit 
 nullus,' But the same danger besets those conversant in every 
 other study likewise, that may from time to time have occupied 
 a large share of each man's attention. He is tempted to seek 
 for a solution of every question on every subject, by a reference 
 to his own favourite science or branch of knowledge; like a 
 schoolboy when first entrusted with a knife, who is for trying 
 its edge on everything that comes in his way/ 
 
 Etymology which may be reckoned a branch of antiquarian 
 study is very liable to this kind of abuse. The study is 
 curious and interesting, and may be so applied as to be very 
 useful. It may supply a useful hint a slight presumption 
 as to the sense of some word. But etymologists are apt to fall 
 into the error of pretending to decide on the actual meaning of 
 a word, and even the nature of the thing denoted by it, from 
 the Root to which they have traced it; forgetting that the 
 ' true sense ' of a word must be, that which is understood by it. 
 Thus, Home Tooke, having traced the word ' TRUTH ' from the 
 verb to ' trow ' i. e. believe, infers that there can be no such 
 thing as absolute 'truth/ independent of men's belief. And 
 another writer has argued that the word Hiereus, which was 
 applied to the Jewish and Pagan sacrificing-priests (and answer- 
 ing to the Latin sacerdos), may rightly be applied to a Christian 
 Minister, because, forsooth, it is derived from ' hieros,' sacred, 
 and our ministers are concerned about things sacred. 1 The 
 Apostles, however, thought otherwise. They were doubtless 
 aware of the etymology of the word Hiereus ; but they knew 
 what kind of office it did, actually, in their day, denote ; and if 
 they had meant to ordain men to any such office, they would 
 not have carefully abstained as they did from applying it to 
 any of the Elders they appointed. 2 But if we are to be com- 
 pletely led by etymology, we must maintain that Priest (or 
 Presbyter) can never mean anything but a man advanced in 
 years : and the same with the word ' Sir,' which is evidently a 
 contraction from Senior. And we must go on to maintain that 
 
 1 See Charge of 1857, i. 
 
 1 See Discourse on the Christian Priesthood, and also Essay on the Kingdom of 
 Christ.
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 
 
 ' Pontifex ' can only mean a ' bridge-builder/ and that Septem- 
 ber must denote the month commonly called July, since that is 
 the seventh month, and ' septem ' signifies seven. 
 
 It may be added that, besides this kind of misapplication of 
 any branch of knowledge and skill [' artis ineptus usus '] there 
 is also another, to which those are liable, who are, or believe 
 themselves to be, eminent in some department. They are 
 tempted to feel a bias in favour of the more paradoxical side of 
 any question, that which affords the most scope for the display 
 of their professional learning and ingenuity, and is the most 
 remote from what would naturally occur to a man of mere 
 plain good sense. A very profound lawyer, e.g., or a deeply- 
 read theologian, will be tempted to feel a preference for some 
 subtle and farfetched interpretation of a clause in any law, or 
 of a passage of Scripture, such as calls for much recondite 
 learning and skill to maintain it. For they are likely to feel 
 that if they come to the conclusion which would at once sug- 
 gest itself to an ordinary man, they have their superior learning 
 and skill for nothing. In this way there is a danger of mis- 
 applying art [_' ne sit usus nullus ; ] that it may not lie idle. 
 
 Hence the ancient remark has become proverbial : ' There 
 is no absurdity so gross that has not been maintained by one 
 or other of the philosophers/ One remarkable instance of the 
 kind of bias alluded to, was, a decision of a most learned and 
 acute Lord Chancellor, that the Court ought not to grant an 
 injunction against the piracy of a book, if there could be the 
 most remote suspicion that it might be of an immoral ten- 
 dency ; and that the piratical Publisher should be allowed (as 
 accordingly was soon after done) himself to plead this as a bar 
 to an injunction. 
 
 Now any man of plain good sense, and honesty, unversed in 
 legal subtleties, would have decided that a work (as well as a 
 person) should be presumed innocent, in the absence of all proof 
 of guilt ; and that no one should be allowed to plead his own 
 wrong-doing in his own defence. 
 
 There is a remarkable instance of perverted ingenuity, in 
 the interpretation which was once put on one of the Rules of 
 the Irish Education-Board. Among the books for united edu- 
 cation sanctioned by the unanimous approval of the original 
 
 M M 2
 
 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 Commissioners, were some extracts from the Scriptures, and 
 some other books of a religious character, but without anything 
 controversial. It was provided, however, that no child whose 
 parents might object, should be obliged to use these books. 
 And though it scarcely ever did happen that there was any call 
 for the application of that rule, this provision for any even 
 excessive scruple, gave complete confidence and satisfaction 
 for many years. But when some new Commissioners came 
 into office, with different views, they discovered that the rule 
 (which had been worded not very guardedly, or with any thought 
 of special-pleading subtleties) might be brought to bear a sense 
 quite un thought of. It might be interpreted to mean that, if 
 any one child (in a school of, perhaps, hundreds) objected to 
 these books, they were to be altogether withheld from the 
 general instruction of all the rest ! And the words certainly 
 will bear that meaning, if you lay aside all regard for reason, 
 and for justice, and the known design of the framers of the 
 rule, and the constant practice of many years, and the fair 
 expectations of the Public. The main object was, doubtless, 
 the gratification of a certain Party. But some degree of exulta- 
 tion also was probably felt, at the ingenuity of hitting on an 
 interpretation of a rule, so wide from its design. A witness 
 who was examined as to this matter before a Parliamentary 
 Committee, remarked to them that hardly any formula can be 
 so framed as not to admit of being thus ingeniously wrested 
 into a new meaning, by one who should set at nought common 
 sense and common honesty. For instance, the ' Oath of Ab- 
 juration' which many regard as a bulwark of Church and 
 State, reprobates the doctrine ' that princes deprived by the 
 Pope may be deposed or murdered by their subjects;' and de- 
 clares that ' no foreign prelate, &c., has any authority' over us. 
 Now, a subtle Jesuit might instruct his pupil to take this oath 
 while meditating the overthrow of our Government and Reli- 
 gion. For not to mention that the word ' Princes' is mascu- 
 line, and therefore does not extend to a Queen he might say 
 that a sovereign deprived by the Pope cannot be deposed by his 
 subjects, because he is already deposed, and has no subjects ; 
 nor can he be murdered, if the Pope (possessing rightful power) 
 has declared his life forfeit ; since murder always implies wrong-
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 533 
 
 ful slaying ; else, the public executioner would be guilty of it. 
 And the Pope, if he is the legitimate Head of the \vhole Chris- 
 tian Church, cannot be, anywhere, a 'foreign prelate/ As for 
 his being, perhaps, a native of Italy, and temporal Sovereign 
 of the Papal States, that is nothing to the purpose. For, our 
 ancestors, while administering this very oath, were governed by 
 a king who was a native German, and Sovereign of Hanover ; but 
 whom yet they certainly did not reckon a ' foreign potentate/ 
 
 Again, learned divines have maintained, with apparent 
 seriousness, that all the ' tongues' spoken by the Disciples on 
 the day of Pentecost, were merely Greek, in a somewhat unusual 
 style; Greek having been, it seems, the universal language of 
 Jews, Romans, Parthians, Medes, &c., each of them, moreover, 
 recognising with much wonder, this odd kind of Greek as their 
 ' own tongue wherein they were born ! ' Pilate must, there- 
 fore, have been mistaken in affixing to the cross an inscription 
 in three languages ; and so must the chief Captain, Claudius 
 Lysias, who wondered that Paul, whom he took for an Egyp- 
 tian (Acts xxi.), could ' speak Greek V 
 
 Others, again, have maintained that the ' gift of tongues' 
 consisted in the utterance of sounds which had no meaning at 
 all, either to the hearers or the speaker. 1 . . 
 
 Again, any man of plain good sense would be likely to per- 
 ceive, (at least when his attention is called to the point), that 
 the Apostle Paul (i Cor. i.) is dwelling on the humble and, 
 humanly-speaking, powerless, instruments of the propagation of 
 the Gospel : ' the weak things of the world, chosen by the 
 Most High to confound the strong/ thus laying bare as it 
 were the superhuman power which alone could have enabled 
 them to succeed : and that the ' calling/ therefore, which he 
 speaks of, must mean those thus chosen by their divine Master 
 to call disciples. But some learned men, misled by their own 
 ingenuity, have maintained that by the weak and unlearned of 
 whom Paul is speaking, he meant the converts themselves ; as 
 if he could have been so silly as to bring forward, as a proof of 
 divine power, that the Gospel was received by hardly any but 
 
 1 A similar instance of misapplied and absurd ingenuity, is noticed in a note to 
 Lecture vi. on Good and Evil Angels, p. 143.
 
 534 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 the lowest and most ignorant ! But this, we are told, he did, 
 in order to rouse the emulation of the learned and great ! it 
 being just what would have excited their disgust and scorn. 
 
 As for the supposed miracle of walking on the water, that 
 is explained to have been merely wading in a shallow part of 
 the lake ! And the multitudes who were fed in the wilderness, 
 were supplied, it seems, by some of their own number, who had 
 brought with them great plenty of provisions, and were induced 
 by the example of Jesus and his Apostles, to supply their 
 neighbours ! 
 
 To represent the whole of the Scripture-narrative as a string 
 of mere fabrications, is a position which, untenable as it is, is a 
 degree less absurd than such theories. 
 
 Ingenious explainers of this kind seem to have arisen in the 
 earliest days of the Church. Such, no doubt, were those men- 
 tioned by the Apostle Paul as teaching that ' the Resurrection 
 was past already ; ' and to whom he probably alludes in i Cor. 
 xv. For, the expression of * the Resurrection' being 'past' 
 implies that they did not avowedly deny the statements of the 
 Christian teachers, but explained them as a kind of Myth or 
 Parable ; representing the ' resurrection ' as being a figurative 
 term, to denote, perhaps, the raising up of mankind from igno- 
 rance to knowledge, or from vice to virtue. These men were 
 probably the forerunners and first leaders of those Docetts we 
 read of, who taught (as the Mahometans do to this day) that our 
 Lord did not really suffer death and rise again, but that there 
 was an optical illusion which deceived his enemies, and that 
 the sacred narrative was a kind of Parable, containing a hidden 
 meaning, relating to the rejection at first, and triumph after- 
 wards, of Christianity. And in our own days we have been 
 told by an ingenious Divine that ' the whole Bible is ONE GREAT 
 
 PARABLE/ 
 
 Now, to ordinary men of plain sense, the word Parable 
 denotes a fictitious narrative that is known and designed to be 
 understood not literally but figuratively. But as for a pro- 
 fessed narrative of facts known to be understood as such, and 
 yet, as such, untrue, though capable of being interpreted (as 
 any conceivable story might) as a Parable, emblematically con- 
 taining some secret meaning which few or none would suspect,
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 535 
 
 this is what any plain man would be likely to call by a very 
 different name from ' Parable' l 
 
 When a man has once begun to indulge in the exercise of 
 perverted ingenuity, one can no more guess what extrava- 
 gance he will next strike out, than one could foresee the course 
 of a mettlesome but blind horse that has broken loose. For 
 instance, perhaps some German professor, with Englishmen for 
 his disciples, may hereafter devise a theory to explain and 
 rationalize the transaction of Elijah's sacrifice. The prophet, 
 he may suggest, had secretly invented the art of distilling 
 Alcohol, or had discovered a spring of Naphtha (such as Hero- 
 dotus describes), which is fluid and colourless like water, but 
 highly inflammable ; and then he instructed some accomplices 
 to pour barrels of this seeming water over the wood on the 
 altar; and having also forestalled the invention of lucifer- 
 matches, he craftily kindled one, and thus set the pile in a 
 blaze. Such a theory would not be a whit less plausible, or 
 more absurd, than some such as those above noticed that are 
 afloat. 
 
 ' But, in reference to the point immediately before us, he who 
 is well read in history and in travels, should be warned of the 
 danger (the more on account of the real high importance of 
 such knowledge) of misapplying it ; of supposing that because 
 Political-economy is conversant with human transactions, and he 
 is acquainted with so much greater an amount of human trans- 
 actions than the generality of men, he must have an advantage 
 over them in precisely the same degree, in discussing questions 
 of Political-economy. Undoubtedly he has a great advantage, 
 if he is careful to keep in view the true principles of the science ; 
 but otherwise he may even labour under a efe- advantage, by 
 forgetting that (as I have above observed) the kind of transactions 
 which are made most prominent, and occupy the chief space, in 
 the works of historians and travellers, are usually not those of 
 every-day life, with which Political-economy is conversant. It 
 is in the same way that an accurate military survey of any 
 district, or a series of sketches accompanying a picturesque tour 
 
 1 See Lectures on the Parables.
 
 536 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 through it, may even serve to mislead one who is seeking for a 
 knowledge of its agricultural condition, if he does not keep in 
 mind the different objects which different kinds of survey have 
 in view. 
 
 ' Geologists, when commissioning their friends to procure 
 them from any foreign country such specimens as may convey 
 an idea of its geological character, are accustomed to warn them 
 against sending over collections of curiosities i.e. specimens of 
 spars, stalactites, &c., which are accounted, in that country, 
 curious, from being rarities, and which consequently convey no 
 correct notion of its general features. What they want is, 
 specimens of the commonest strata, the stones with which the 
 roads are mended, and the houses built, &c. And some frag- 
 ments of these, which in that country are accounted mere 
 rubbish, they sometimes, with much satisfaction, find casually 
 adhering to the specimens sent them as curiosities, and consti- 
 tuting, for their object, the most important part of the collec- 
 tion. Histories are in general, to the political economist, what 
 such collections are to the geologist. The casual allusions to 
 common, and what are considered insignificant matters, convey, 
 to him, the most valuable information. 
 
 ' An injudicious study of history, then, may even prove an 
 hindrance instead of a help to the forming of right views of 
 political economy. For not only are many of the transactions 
 which are, in the historian's view, the most important, such as 
 are the least important to the Political-economist, but also a 
 great proportion of them consists of what are in reality the 
 greatest impediments to the progress of a society in wealth : viz. 
 wars, revolutions, and disturbances of every kind. It is not in 
 consequence of these, but in spite of them, that society has 
 made the progress which in fact it has made. So that in 
 taking such a survey as history furnishes of the course 
 of events, for instance, for the last eight hundred years, 
 not only do we find little mention of the causes which have 
 so greatly increased national wealth during that period, but 
 what we do chiefly read of is, the counteracting causes; 
 especially the wars which have been raging from time to time, 
 to the destruction of capital, and the hindrance of improve- 
 ment. Now, if a ship had performed a voyage of eight
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 537 
 
 hundred leagues, and the register of it contained an account 
 chiefly of the contrary winds and currents, and made little 
 mention of favourable gales, we might well be at a loss to 
 understand how she reached her destination ; and might even 
 be led into the mistake of supposing that the contrary winds 
 had forsvarded her in her course. Yet such is history V 
 
 In reference to the study of history, I have elsewhere re- 
 marked upon the importance, among the intellectual qualifica- 
 tions for such a study, of a vivid imagination, 1 a faculty which, 
 consequently, a skilful narrator must himself possess, and to 
 which he must be able to furnish excitement in others. Some 
 may, perhaps, be startled at this remark, who have been accus- 
 tomed to consider imagination as having no other office than to 
 feign and to falsify. Every faculty is liable to abuse and mis- 
 direction, and imagination among the rest ; but it is a mistake 
 to suppose that it necessarily tends to pervert the truth of 
 history, and to mislead the judgment. On the contrary, our 
 view of any transaction, especially one that is remote in time 
 or place, will necessarily be imperfect, generally incorrect, 
 unless it embrace something more than the bare outline of the 
 occurrences, unless we have before the mind a lively idea of 
 the scenes in which the events took place, the habits of thought 
 and of feeling of the actors, and all the circumstances connected 
 with the transaction ; unless, in short, we can in a considerable 
 degree transport ourselves out of our own Age, and country, 
 and persons, and imagine ourselves the agents or spectators. 
 It is from consideration of all these circumstances that we are 
 enabled to form a right judgment as to the facts which history 
 records, and to derive instruction from it. What we imagine 
 may indeed be merely imaginary, that is, unreal ; but it may 
 again be what actually does or did exist. To say that imagi- 
 nation, if not regulated by sound judgment and sufficient 
 knowledge, may chance to convey to us false impressions of 
 past events, is only to say that Man is fallible. But such false 
 impressions are even much the more likely to take possession of 
 those whose imagination is feeble or uncultivated. They are 
 apt to imagine the things, persons, times, countries, &c., which 
 
 1 See Lessons on the Mind.
 
 538 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 they read of, as much less different from what they see around 
 them than is really the case. 
 
 The practical importance of such an exercise of imagination 
 to a full, and clear, and consequently profitable view of the 
 transactions related in history, can hardly be over-estimated. 
 In respect of the very earliest of all human transactions, it is 
 matter of common remark how prone many are to regard with 
 mingled wonder, contempt, and indignation, the transgression 
 of our first Parents ; as if they were not a fair sample of the 
 human race ; as if any of us would not, if he had been placed 
 in precisely the same circumstances, have acted as they did. 
 The Corinthians, probably*, had perused with the same barren 
 wonder, the history of the backslidings of the Israelites ; and 
 needed that Paul should remind them, that these things were 
 written for their example and admonition. And all, in almost 
 every portion of history they read, have need of a corresponding 
 warning, to endeavour to fancy themselves the persons they 
 read of, that they may recognise in the accounts of past times 
 the portraiture of our own. From not putting ourselves in the 
 place of the persons living in past times, and entering fully 
 into all their feelings, we are apt to forget how probable many 
 things might appear, which we know did not take place; and 
 to regard as perfectly chimerical, expectations which we know 
 were not realized, but which, had we lived in those times, we 
 should doubtless have entertained ; and to imagine that there 
 was no danger of those evils which were, in fact, escaped. We 
 are apt also to make too little allowances for prejudices arid 
 associations of ideas, which no longer exist precisely in the 
 same form among ourselves, but which, perhaps, are not more 
 at variance with right reason than others with which ourselves 
 are infected. 
 
 e Some books are to be tasted' 
 
 For various reasons it will often be necessary to ' taste ' 
 some books which will be, to the most discerning palates, very 
 nauseous, or very insipid. For if you know only what is said, 
 and done, and written, and read, and approved, by the wise and 
 the high-minded, you will remain unacquainted with a portion, 
 and that, alas! the larger portion of mankind. The pre- 
 vailing prejudices and weaknesses of each Age, and Country,
 
 Essay 1.] Annotations. 
 
 and class of men, and the peculiar kind of sophistry by which 
 each are most liable to be misled, must be understood by any 
 one who would have a correct acquaintance with that Age, &c. 
 And one who would be an efficient instructor of any class of 
 persons, either orally or by his writings, must not only have 
 personal intercourse which is essential with those of that 
 class, 1 but must also know something of the books which they 
 approve or delight in. And, again, some very valuable books 
 can be but imperfectly understood without a knowledge of those 
 they were designed to refute. 
 
 For such purposes as I have alluded to, one must submit to 
 ' taste/ occasionally, much that is disgusting. There was a 
 poem that once passed through a surprising number of editions 
 in a very short time, which was characterized by such dull 
 silliness, combined with malignant bigotry, as to deserve 
 the description applied to one of the Roman Emperors, ' Mire 
 mingled with Blood.' 2 But without submitting to read some 
 portion of it, one might have remained ignorant of the degree 
 and extent of the prevalence of bad taste and bad sentiment. 
 And it is important to be aware, what, and from what quarters, 
 are the dangers to religion and virtue. The avowedly profane 
 and profligate works which the present century has produced, 
 are far less noxious than a professedly religious Work that is 
 likely to excite horror, loathing, and contempt, in persons of 
 good feeling and good taste. 
 
 For various reasons, therefore, it will often be worth while 
 to submit to the task of ' tasting ' what may create disgust. 
 
 There are four books which contain perhaps as much 
 absurd trash as any in existence, which yet no educated man 
 ought to be wholly unacquainted with, (i.) The Jewish Misna 
 the traditional rules for the observance of the Law. It 
 
 1 See Charge of 1857. 
 
 2 One is tempted to apply to such a Work the lines of .Eschylus's Eumenides, 
 in which Apollo bids the Furies depart out of his Temple : 
 
 .... 
 
 OVTOI cfojuoim rotffSf \^i}nrT(.aQai irpeirti. 
 'AX\' ov KapaviffrfipfG 6<f>8a\pu>pvxoi 
 At/cat, ff^ayat rt, <T7rsp/iarof T diro<j>9opai 
 Haidwv, KO.KOV re x\ot)vi, ?)$' aicpwvia, 
 KtvapoQ Tt, KM pvZovoiv aKTiopov iro\i>v
 
 540 Of Studies. [Essay 1. 
 
 throws great light on the discourses of our Lord, who charges 
 the Jews with having in some instances made ' the Word of 
 God of none effect by their Tradition/ 1 (2.) The Toldoth 
 Jeschu [Generation of Jesus] is the account given by the unbe- 
 lieving Jews, of our Saviour's history. It contains, amidst 
 much blasphemy and nonsense, a most important confirmation 
 of what is recorded by our Evangelists, that the enemies of 
 Jesus admitted the fact of his miracles, though they denied his 
 resurrection. For, if the facts had been denied at the time, it 
 is inconceivable that a subsequent generation of adversaries 
 should have admitted the miracles, and resorted to the hypo- 
 thesis of Magic. (3.) The Spurious Gospels, of which a trans- 
 lation is given in Jones's Canon of the New Testament, are a 
 striking and edifying contrast to our sacred books. (4.) The 
 same may be said of The Koran ; and also of that recent 
 imposture, The Book of Mormon. It is very instructive 
 to observe the absurdities men fall into when they set them- 
 selves to frame a sham-revelation. 
 
 1 Selections from the Misna, with a translation and very useful notes, are to be 
 found in a publication by Dr. Wotton.
 
 ESSAY LI. 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 to factions, is a principal part of policy : 
 whereas, contrariwise/ the chiefest 3 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 con- 
 sideration of factions is to be neglected. Mean men, in their 
 rising, must adhere ; but great men, that have strength in them- 
 selves, were better to maintain themselves indifferent 4 and 
 neutral ; yet even in beginners, to adhere so moderately, as he be 
 a man of the one faction, which is most passable 5 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 Octavius Caesar against Brutus and Cassius, held out 
 likewise for a time ; but when Brutus and Cassius were over- 
 thrown, then, soon after, Antonius and Octavius brake, and 
 subdivided. These examples are of wars, but the same holdeth 
 in private factions; and, therefore, those that are seconds iu 
 factions, do many times, when the faction subdivideth, prove 
 principals; but many times also they prove cyphers and 
 cashiered; for many a man's strength is in opposition, and, 
 when that faileth, he groweth out of use. It is commonly 
 
 1 Estate. State. See page 146. 
 
 2 Contrariwise. On the contrary. See page 102. 
 
 3 Cbiefest. Chief. ' Not a whit behind the very chiefest Apostles.' 2 Cor. xi. 5. 
 
 ' Antiochus the Great 
 Built up this city as his chiefest seat.' ShaTcespere. 
 
 4 Indifferent. See page 2 24. 
 
 * Passable. Capable of being received. ' It is with men as with false money ; 
 one piece is more or less passable than another.' L' Estrange.
 
 Of Faction. [Essay li. 
 
 seen, that men once placed, take in with the contrary faction 
 to that by which they enter : thinking, belike, 1 that they have 
 their first sure, and now are ready for a new purchase. The 
 traitor in faction lightly 2 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 3 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 4 in popes, when 
 they have often in their mouth, 'Padre commune;' 5 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 6 
 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 carried too 
 high and too violently, it is a sign of weakness in princes, and 
 much to the prejudice both of their authority and business. 
 The motions of factions under kings ought to be like the 
 motions (as the astronomers speak) of the inferior orbs, which 
 may have their proper motions, but yet still are quietly carried 
 by the higher motion of ' primum mobile/ 8 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 Bacon's remark, that a prince ought not to make it his policy 
 to ' govern according to respect to factions,' suggests a strong 
 
 1 Belike. Probably. 'That good Earl of Huntingdon, who well esteemed my 
 father j having belike, heard some hetter words of me than I could deserve ; made 
 earnest enquiry after me.' Bishop Hall. 
 8 Lightly. Easily; readily. 
 
 ' Believe 't not lightly that your son 
 Will not exceed the common.' Shalcespere. 
 * Of. From. See page 286. 
 4 Suspect. Suspicious. 
 
 'Certes, it is to mee suspect.' Chaucer. 
 6 ' Common Father.' 
 
 Side. To take a side. ' As soon as discontents drove men into siding.' 
 As one of m.' a <p r i mum mo bii e .' See p. 152.
 
 Essay li.] Annotations. 
 
 ground of preference of hereditary to elective sovereignty. For 
 when a Chief whether called King, Emperor, President, or by 
 whatever name is elected (whether for life, or for a term of 
 years), he can hardly avoid being the head of a party. ' He 
 who is elected will be likely to feel aversion towards those who 
 have voted against him : who may be, perhaps, nearly half of 
 his subjects. And they again will be likely to regard him as 
 an enemy, instead of feeling loyalty to him as their prince. 
 
 ' And those again who have voted for him, will consider him 
 as being under an obligation to them, and expect him to show 
 them more favour than to the rest of his subjects ; so that he 
 will be rather the head of a party than the king of a people. 
 
 ' Then, too, when the throne is likely to become vacant 
 that is, when the king is old, or is attacked with any serious 
 illness, what secret canvassing and disturbance of men's minds 
 will take place. The king himself will most likely wish that 
 his son, or some other near relative or friend, should suc- 
 ceed him ; and he will employ all his patronage with a view to 
 such an election ; appointing to public offices, not the fittest 
 men, but those whom he can reckon on as voters. And 
 others will be exerting themselves to form a party against him ; 
 so that the country will be hardly ever tranquil, and very 
 seldom well-governed. 
 
 ' If, indeed, men were very different from what they are, there 
 might be superior advantages in an elective royalty; but in 
 the actual state of things, the disadvantages will in general 
 greatly outweigh the benefits. 
 
 * Accordingly most nations have seen the advantage of 
 hereditary royalty, notwithstanding the defects of such a con- 
 stitution/ 1 
 
 ' Kings had need beware how they side themselves.' 
 
 The observation, that kings who make themselves members 
 of a party, 'raise an obligation paramount to obligation of 
 sovereignty' that is, are likely to substitute party-spirit for 
 public-spirit, is one which applies in a great degree to all par- 
 tisans, and to all parties, whether political or ecclesiastical. 
 
 1 Lesson I., On, the British Constitution, pp. 15, 16.
 
 544 Of Faction. [Essay li. 
 
 We see in Thucydides' History of the Peloponnesian War (and 
 the like has been seen in many ages and regions) how much the 
 attachment to the democratic or the oligarchical parties pre- 
 vailed over Patriotism. And, in religious concerns, attachment 
 to some party will often be found overcoming that to a Church ; 
 so that men belonging to different, and even avowedly opposed 
 Churches, will sometimes be found combined in bitter hostility 
 against other members of their own respective Churches, who 
 are not of their religious party. 
 
 Ou any point, indeed, which the State, or the Church, has left 
 as an open question, allowing each person to judge and act 
 therein as he may think fit, on such a point, a man may per- 
 haps find himself differing from some individuals who belong to 
 his own community, and in agreement with some who do not ; 
 and he is not precluded from joining with these latter in for- 
 warding some definite object in which they agree. For instance, 
 the question of ' Free-trade or Protection ' is not involved in 
 the British Constitution, and is one on which loyal subjects 
 may differ. And any one Mho advocates Free-trade might al- 
 lowably join with some foreigners of the same opinion, in cir- 
 culating tracts in favour of it. So also, a member of some 
 Protestant Church might chance to agree with the late Pope 
 Gregory on the subject of Slavery, disagreeing on that point 
 with some fellow-members of his own Church, which has pro- 
 nounced no decision thereon : and he may, accordingly, join 
 with some Roman-catholics in discountenancing Slavery. 
 
 But most watchful care is requisite, to guard against being 
 imperceptibly led on, without any such design originally, into 
 enrolling oneself in a party, properly so called, (in Bacon's 
 language, a ' faction '} ; that is, a combination formed indefinitely 
 for the advocacy of certain general principles, and the promo- 
 tion of a certain class of objects, without a distinct specification 
 of each precise object to be arrived at, and of the means to be 
 employed ; so that the members of the party do, in fact, place 
 themselves under the guidance of their leaders, without any 
 exact knowledge whither they will be led. 1 
 
 1 See the Essay, 'Of Unity in Religion.' See also, Essay III., 4th Series, 3, 
 on ' Party Spirit. 5 See also Thoughts on the Evangelical Alliance.
 
 Essay li.J Annotations. 
 
 ' 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.' 
 
 Arid thorough-going partizans usually attribute this to every 
 one who keeps aloof from Party; or else they suspect him of 
 seeking to set up some new party, in which he may be a leader ; 
 or they regard him as a whimsical Being, who differs in opinion 
 from everybody. 
 
 A zealous anti-Calvinist at Oxford denounced as Calvinistic 
 a series of Discourses delivered there some years ago, because 
 they were not Arminian : and when those same Discourses were 
 afterwards published, a Reviewer spoke of the author as Arminian 
 because he was not a Calvinist : ' since every one/ he said, ' must 
 be supposed to be either the one or the other/ 
 
 A large portion of mankind enrol themselves in the ranks of 
 a party, to be saved the trouble of examining for themselves 
 each of a great number of particular points. They like to 
 have a ready-made set of opinions; like a lot of goods at an 
 auction. And they conclude that others must do the like. 
 Moreover, Man is a classifying animal. It is a convenience to 
 be able to refer each individual to a Class, whose name describes 
 him, instead of going through all the particulars of his opinions. 
 And one who cannot be so described, though perhaps he does 
 not differ more from his neighbours than many of them do 
 from each other is an inconvenient individual ; a kind of odd 
 volume on a library-table, for which we cannot find a place on 
 any of the shelves. He is one who refuses to say ' I am of 
 Paul, or I, of Apollos, or I, of Cephas, or, of Luther, or 
 Calvin, or Arminius/ And those, therefore, who prefer con- 
 venience to accuracy, will be likely to place him in the ranks 
 of some Party, according to their fancy ; or else they will 
 denounce him as ' eccentric/ and affecting ' singularity/ 
 
 And as I have observed above (in the Annotations on the 
 Essay on 'Custom') that a prudent man who is no partizan will 
 never trust those who decidedly belong to a party, so, these will 
 never fully trust any one who does not. They may perhaps 
 gladly co-operate with him in some particular matter in which 
 he agrees with them : but they cannot rely on him for going 
 along with them throughout. In some other matter he may 
 
 N N
 
 546 Of Faction. [Essay li. 
 
 perhaps be opposed to them ; because he means to use his own 
 judgment in each case; and what the decision of that judgment 
 may be, they cannot foresee with any certainty. They set him 
 down therefore as a man who may chance to be sometimes 
 useful, but who is 'one not to be depended on/ And they 
 usually attribute to him, as Bacon has observed, motives of pure 
 self-interest. 
 
 From one or other of the above-mentioned causes, he is likely 
 to be regarded by the most zealous party-men, with at least 
 as much hostility as those of an opposite party. And accord- 
 ingly, Thucydides, in describing the party- contests at Corcyra 
 and other Greek States, remarks that ( those who held a middle 
 course were destroyed by both parties/ 
 
 And it is remarkable that party-spirit tends so much to 
 lower the moral standard, that it makes men regard with less 
 abhorrence what is wrong, not only on their own side, but even 
 on the opposite. Their feelings towards those of the opposed 
 party are very much those of a soldier towards the soldiers of 
 the hostile army. He fires at them for that reason alone, and 
 expects that they should fire at him. If they fight bravely, or 
 if they out-manoeuvre him, he admires their courage or their 
 skill. He does not think the worse of them for reckless 
 plundering, ravaging, and slaughtering, just as he would do in 
 their place, and as he does, on the opposite side. Even so, the 
 most thorough-going partizaus attribute to every one who is, 
 or is supposed to be (often without any good grounds) a mem- 
 ber of the opposite party, such conduct as is in reality unjustifi- 
 able, without thinking at all the worse of him for it. It is only 
 what they would do in his place : and though they dislike him 
 for being of the opposite party, they dislike him for nothing else. 
 
 And as there is often a strong resemblance in character 
 between the soldiers of two hostile armies, so, those whom some 
 perhaps slight circumstance has enrolled in the ranks of oppo- 
 site parties, will often be found to be very much alike in the 
 most essential points of personal character. Thus, two similar 
 mountain -streams near the summit of the great mountain- 
 ridges which divide Europe, will sometimes be separated by a 
 small fragment of rock, which sends the waters of the one into 
 the Atlantic, and of the other into the Mediterranean. 
 
 And not only are the feelings of zealous party-men hostile
 
 Essay li.] Annotations. 547 
 
 to one of moderate views, who keeps clear of opposite extremes, 
 but their moral-judgment also such as it is condemns him. 
 If, for instance, he has been raised to some high office without 
 solicitation, and unconditionally, and afterwards refuses to vote 
 through thick and thin with the Party of the Ministry that 
 appointed him, against his own judgment, and without any 
 regard for justice and the public good, he is likely to be 
 denounced as an ungrateful traitor. And if he advocates some 
 enlargement of popular rights, and also some wholesome restric- 
 tions, he will be reproached with ' inconsistency ;' just as the 
 Satyr, in the Fable, rebukes the inconsistency of the traveller, 
 whose breath warmed his fingers, and cooled his porridge. 
 
 The effects of party-spirit in lowering the moral standard are 
 gradual, and usually rather slow. But it often happens, on the 
 occasion of some violent party-contest, that an apparently 
 sudden change will take place in men's characters; and we are 
 surprised by an unexpected outbreak of unscrupulous baseness, 
 cruel injustice, and extravagant folly. In such cases, however, 
 there can be little doubt that the evil dispositions thus displayed 
 were lurking in the breasts of the individuals before, unknown 
 by themselves and by those around them ; and are merely, called 
 into activity by the occasion ; even as a storm of wind raises 
 the dust which it did not create. According to the proverb, 1 
 
 ' The pond that when stirred does muddy appear, 
 Had inud at the bottom when still and clear.' 
 
 See Proverbs and Precepts. 
 
 N N 2
 
 ESSAY LII. OF CEREMONIES AND 
 RESPECTS. 1 
 
 HE that is only real had need have exceeding great pSirts 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 commenda- 
 tion 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 con- 
 tinually 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 per- 
 petual letters commendatory, to have good forms. To attain 
 them, it almost sufficeth not to despise them; for so shall a 
 man observe them in others, and let him trust himself with the 
 rest ; for if he labour too much to express them, he shall lose 
 their grace, which is to be natural and unaffected. Some men's 
 behaviour 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? 2 Not to use ceremonies 
 at all, is to teach others not to use them again, and so diminish 
 respect to himself; especially they are not to be omitted to 
 strangers and formal natures; but the dwelling upon them, and 
 exalting them above the moon, is not only tedious, but both 
 diminish the faith and credit of him that speaks ; and, certainly, 
 there is a kind of conveying of effectual and imprinting 3 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 fami- 
 liarity, and therefore it is good a little to keep state ; amongst 
 
 1 Ceremonies and respects. Conventional forms of politeness, and rules of 
 etiquette. 
 
 ' The sauce to meat is ceremony ; 
 Meeting were bare without it.' ShaTcespere. 
 ' What art thou, thou idle ceremony ? 
 
 Art thou aught else but place, degree and form ? ' Shakespere. 
 'The Duke's carriage to the gentlemen was of fair respects' Wotton. 
 1 Observations. Observances. ' He freed the Christian Church from the exter- 
 nal observation.' White. 
 3 Imprinting. Impressive.
 
 Essay lii.] Of Ceremonies and Respects. 549 
 
 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 any- 
 thing, so that he giveth another occasion of satiety, maketh him- 
 self cheap. To apply one's self to others is good, so it be ^vith 
 demonstration that a man doth it upon 1 regard and not upon 
 facility. It is a good precept generally in seconding another, 
 yet to ajdd 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 farther reason. Men had need beware how 
 they be too perfect in compliments ; for be they never so suffi- 
 cient 2 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 too curious 3 
 in observing times and opportunities. Solomon saith, c He that 
 considereth the wind shall not sow, and he that looketh to the 
 clouds shall not reap/ 4 A wise man will make more opportu- 
 nities than he finds. Men's behaviour should be like their 
 apparel, not too strait or point device, 5 but free for exercise or 
 motion. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS. 
 PRO. CONTBA. 
 
 'Si et in verbis vulgo paremus, 'Quid deformius, quam scenam in 
 
 quidni in habitu, et gestu ? vitam transferre ? 
 
 ' If we accommodate ourselves to the ' What can be more disgusting than 
 
 vulgar in our speech, why not also in to transfer the stage into common life ?' 
 our deportment ?' 
 
 1 Magis placent cerussatai buccse, et 
 
 'Virtus et prudentia sine punctis, calamistrata coma, quam cerussati et 
 velut peregrinse linguse sunt ; nam vulgo calamistrati mores, 
 non intelliguntur. ' Rouged cheeks and curled hair are 
 
 ' Virtue and wisdom without forms of less offensive than rouged and curled 
 politeness are strange languages, for manners' 
 they are not ordinarily understood.' 
 
 ' Puncti translatio sunt virtutis in 
 linguam vernaculam. 
 
 ' Forms are the translation of virtue 
 into the vulgar tongue.' 
 
 1 Upon. In consequence of. See page 490. 
 
 2 Sufficient. Able. ' Who is sufficient for these things?' 2 Cor. Si. 1 6. 
 
 3 Curious. Exact ; precise. ' Both these senses embrace their objects with a 
 more curious discrimination.' Holder. * Eccles. xi. 4. 
 
 5 Point device. Extremely exact (with the nicety and precision of a stitch 
 [French point] devised or made with the needle). ' Everything about you should 
 demonstrate a careless desolation ; but you are rather point de vise in your accou- 
 trements, as loving yourself, than the lover of another.' Shakespere.
 
 Of Ceremonies and Respects. [Essay lii. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 ' He that is only real had need have exceeding great parts of 
 
 virtue. 3 
 
 To attach as much importance (which a good many do) or 
 more, to refined and graceful manners, than to more substantial 
 qualities ; to prefer, as it were, a Pumpkin to a Pine-apple, 
 because it has a smoother coat does, certainly, show a frivolous 
 turn, and a lack of wisdom. But there is no wisdom in need- 
 lessly incurring the ill will or contempt of that numerous class, 
 the frivolous and unwise. 
 
 * Not to use ceremonies at all, is to teach others not to use them 
 
 again.' 
 
 Good manners are a part of good morals; and when form is 
 too much neglected, true politeness suffers diminution : then we 
 are obliged to bring some back ; or we find the want of them. 
 The same holds good in a higher department. Mankind are 
 not formed to live without ceremony and form : the ' inward 
 spiritual grace' is very apt to be lost without the ' external 
 visible sign/ Many are continually setting up for the expulsion 
 of ceremonies from this or that ; and often with advantage, when 
 they have so multiplied as to grow burdensome ; but, if ever 
 they have carried this too far, they have been forced to bring 
 back some ceremonies. 
 
 Upon the whole, we may conclude that ceremony and form 
 of every kind derive their necessity from our imperfection. 
 If we were perfectly spiritual, we might worship God without 
 any form at all, without even uttering words; as we are 
 not, it is a folly to say, ( One may be just as pious on 
 one day as another, in one place, or posture, as another/ &c., I 
 answer, angels may ; Man cannot. Again, if we were all per- 
 fectly benevolent, good-tempered, attentive to the gratifying of 
 others, &c., we might dispense with all the forms of good- 
 breeding ; as it is, we cannot ; we are not enough of heroes to 
 fight without discipline. Selfishness will be sure to assail us if
 
 Essay lii.] Annotations. 551 
 
 we once let the barriers be broken down. At the same time it 
 is evident from what has been said, that the higher our nature 
 is carried, the less form we need. 
 
 But though we may deservedly congratulate society on being 
 able to dispense with this or that ceremony, do not let us be in 
 a hurry to do so, till we are sure we can do without it. It is 
 taking away crutches, to cure the gout. The opposite extreme 
 of substituting the external form for the thing signified, is not 
 more dangerous or more common than the neglect of that form. 
 It is all very well to say, ' There is no use in bidding good- 
 morrow or good-night, to those who know I wish it ; of sending 
 one's love, in a letter, to those who do not doubt it/ &c. All 
 this sounds very well in theory, but it will not do for practice. 
 Scarce any friendship, or any politeness, is so strong as to be 
 able to subsist without any external supports of this kind ; and 
 it is even better to have too much form than too little. 
 
 It is worth observing, in reference to conventional forms, that 
 the ' vernacular tongue/ in which the forms of civility are ex- 
 pressed, differs in different times and places. For instance, in 
 Spain it is a common form of civility to ask a man to dinner, 
 and for the other to reply, ' Sure you would not think of such 
 a thing.' To accept a first or second invitation would be as 
 great a blunder as if, among us, any one who signed himself 
 ' your obedient servant' should be taken literally, and desired 
 to perform some menial office. If a Spanish gentleman really 
 means to ask you to dinner, he repeats the invitation a third 
 time ; and then he is to be understood literally. 
 
 Serious errors may, of course, arise in opposite ways, by not 
 understanding aright what is and is not to be taken as a mere 
 complimentary form.
 
 ESSAY LIII. OF PRAISE. 
 
 T)EAISE is the reflection of virtue : but it is as the glass, or 
 JL body, which giveth the reflection ; if it be from the com- 
 mon people, it is commonly false and naught, 1 and rather fol- 
 loweth 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 or 
 perceiving 2 at all; but shows, and 'species virtutibus similes" 
 serve best with them. Certainly, fame is like a river, that 
 beareth up things light and swollen, and drowns things weighty 
 and solid ; but if persons of quality and judgment concur, then 
 it is (as the scripture saith) ' Nomen bonum instar unguenti 
 fragrantis;' 4 it filleth all round about, and will not easily away; 5 
 for the odours of ointments are more durable than those of 
 flowers. 
 
 There be so many false points of praise, that a man may 
 justly hold it in suspect. 6 Some praises proceed merely of 
 flattery; and if it 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 arch-flatterer, 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.' 7 
 Some praises come of good wishes and respects, which is a form 
 due in civility to kings and great persons, ' laudando prsecipere ;' 8 
 when by telling them what they are, they represent to them 
 
 1 Naught. Worthless; despicable. See page 301. 
 
 J Perceiving. Perception. 3 ' Appearances like virtues.' 
 
 4 'A good name is like a fragrant ointment.' Secies, vii. I. 
 
 * Away. Pass away. 
 
 ' I have a pain upon my forehead here. 
 
 Why that's with watching ; 'twill away again.' ShaJcespere. 
 8 Suspect. Suspicion. 7 Despising conscience.' 
 
 ' To instruct by praising.'
 
 Essay liii.] Of Praise. 553 
 
 what they should be. Some men are praised maliciously to their 
 hurt, thereby to stir envy and jealousy towards them; 'pessi- 
 mum genus inimieorum laudautium;' 1 insomuch as it was a 
 proverb amongst the Grecians, that ' He that was praised to his 
 hurt, should have a push 2 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 doeth the good. Solomon saith, ' He that praiseth his 
 friend aloud, rising early, it shall be to him no better than a 
 curse.' 3 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, 4 and friars, and schoolmen, have a phrase of 
 notable 5 contempt and scorn towards civil business : for they call 
 all temporal business of wars, embassages, judicature, and other 
 employments, sherrerie, which is under- sheriff ries, as if they were 
 but matters for under-sheriffs and catch-poles; though many 
 times those under- sheriffries do more good than their high 
 speculations. St. Paul, when he boasts of himself, doth oft 
 interlace, ' I speak like a fool ;' 6 but speaking of his calling, he 
 saith, ' Magnificabo apostolatum meum.' 7 
 
 ANTITHETA ON PEAISE. 
 
 PEG. CONTBA. 
 
 ' Virtutis radii reflexi laudes. 'Fama. deteriorjudex, quam nuncia. 
 
 ' Praises are the reflected rays of ' Common fame is a bad messenger, 
 
 virtue.' tut a worse judge.' 
 
 ' Laus honor is est, ad quern liberis ' Fama veluti fluvius, levia attollit, 
 
 suffragiis pervenitur. solida mergit. 
 
 ' Praise is that kind of honor which ' Fame, like a river, bears up what is 
 
 is conferred by free votes.' light, and sinks what is solid.' 
 
 ' Honores diverse a diversis politiis ' Infimarum virtutum apud vulgus 
 
 1 ' The worst kind of enemies are those who praise.' 
 
 2 Push. A pustule; a pimple. 8 Proverbs xxvii. 14. 
 
 4 Theologue. A theologian; a Divine. 
 
 ' A theologue more by need than genial bent.' Dryden. 
 
 5 Notable. Remarkable. 'And they had then a notable prisoner.' Matt. 
 xxvii. 1 6. 
 
 e 2 Cor. xi. 23. 7 'I magnify mine office.' Romans xi. 13.
 
 554 ^f Praise- [Essay liii. 
 
 conferuntur ; sed laudes ubique sunt laus est, mediarum admiratio, suprema- 
 
 libertatis. rum sensus nullus. 
 
 ' Honors are conferred differently ' The lowest of the virtues the vulgar 
 
 in different governments ; but praises praise; the middle ones they admire; 
 
 everywhere by popular suffrage.' of the highest they have no perception' 
 ***** 
 
 ' Ne mireris, si vulgus verius loquatur, 
 quam honoratiores ; quia etiam tutius 
 loquitur. 
 
 * It is no wonder that the vulgar some- 
 times speak more truly than those of 
 high place, because they speak more 
 safely.' 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 'If it be from the common people, it is commonly false and 
 naught' 
 
 It was remarked by a sensible man, that any one who has 
 been 'raised from the ranks' (as the phrase is) about middle- 
 life, to a high station, is in danger of being over- sensitive to 
 public opinion ; too anxiously watchful of what is said of him by 
 this, that, and t'other set of men, and thence liable to be blown 
 about to and fro, by the breath of popular applause and censure, 
 from various quarters. A man, on the contrary, who has, from 
 his youth up, occupied a high station, will have been hardened, 
 sometimes perhaps even too much hardened, against all this ; 
 and having been always used to live, as it were, in public, and 
 to have all his movements commented on with praise or dis- 
 praise, will have acquired a habit of regarding public opinion 
 with something of the indifference which is the proverbial effect 
 of long familiarity. 
 
 The one of these needs to be warned against too much at- 
 tention, the other, against too much inattention, to what is said 
 of him. [See the Annotation on ' Nobility.']
 
 Essay Kii.] Annotations. 555 
 
 ' 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 or perceiving at all' 
 
 What a pregnant remark is this ! By the lowest of the 
 virtues he means probably such as hospitality, liberality, grati- 
 tude, good-humoured courtesy, and the like ; and these he says 
 the common run of mankind are accustomed to praise. Those 
 which they admire, such as daring courage, and firm fidelity to 
 friends, or to the cause or party one has espoused, are what he 
 ranks in the next highest place. But the most elevated virtues 
 of all, such as disinterested and devoted public spirit, thorough- 
 going even-handed justice, and disregard of unpopularity when 
 duty requires, of these he says the vulgar have usually no notion. 
 And he might have gone further; for it often happens that a 
 large portion of mankind not only do not praise or admire the 
 highest qualities, but even censure and despise them. Cases 
 may occur in which, though you may obtain the high approba- 
 tion of a very few persons of the most refined and exalted moral 
 sentiments, you must be prepared to find the majority (even of 
 such as are not altogether bad men) condemning you as un- 
 natural, unkind, faithless, and not to be depended on; or 
 deriding you as eccentric, crotchety, fanciful, or absurdly scru- 
 pulous. 1 
 
 Mr. Pitt, it is reported, said of the celebrated Mr. Wilber- 
 force, that he was ' always to be had, except when he was 
 wanted' Whether this particular anecdote is true or not, 
 there can be no doubt that many a Statesman will think 
 lightly of the support afforded to measures, or to persons, that 
 are sufficiently recommended by their intrinsic goodness ; but 
 when the object is to screen the guilty, or (as Thucydides ex- 
 presses it) to f carry through by a plausible speech some objec- 
 tionable measure/ 2 then it is that the support of a man of 
 high character is much ' wanted / and the scruples which pre- 
 vent his affording it, are likely to cause much vexation. 
 ' Heaven forbid, Sir/ (says Davy to Justice Shallow), ' but a 
 
 1 See Lessons on Morals. 
 
 \6yow Iiri<p06vu<; ri 5iairpd%aa9a*
 
 556 Of Praise. [Essay liii. 
 
 kuave should have some countenance at his friend's request. 
 An honest man, Sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave 
 is not. I have served your Worship truly, Sir, these eight 
 years ; and if I cannot once or twice in a quarter bear out a 
 knave against an honest man, I have very little credit with 
 your Worship." 
 
 And such a disparagement of the highest virtues as has been 
 above described, is the more likely to occur, because there are 
 many cases in which the same conduct may result either from 
 the very highest motive, or from a base one; and then, those 
 of the noblest character, and who are also cautious and intel- 
 ligent, will judge from your general conduct and character 
 which motive to assign; while those who are themselves 
 strangers to the highest principle, will at once attribute your 
 acts to the basest. For example, if you shrink from some 
 daring or troublesome undertaking which is also unjustifiable, 
 this may be either from cowardice or indolence, or from scru- 
 pulous integrity ; and the worse motive will be at once assigned 
 by those who have no notion of the better. If you are tolerant 
 in religion, this may be either from utter carelessness, like 
 Gallio's, or from a perception of the true character of the 
 Gospel : and those who want this latter, will be sure to attri- 
 bute to you at once the other. If you decline supporting a 
 countryman against foreigners when they have right on their 
 side, or a friend against a stranger, this may be either from 
 indifference to your country, or your friend, or from a strong 
 love of justice ; and those who have but dim views of justice 
 will at once set you down as unpatriotic or unfriendly. And 
 so in many other cases. 
 
 If, accordingly, you refuse to defend, or to deny, or to 
 palliate, the faults of those engaged in a good cause, and if you 
 are ready to bear testimony to whatever there may be that is 
 right on the opposite side, you will be regarded by many as 
 treacherous, or lukewarm, or inconsistent. If you advocate 
 toleration for an erroneous faith, and protest against forcing, or 
 entrapping, or bribing any persons into the profession of a true 
 one, many will consider you as yourself either tainted with 
 error, or indifferent about religious truth. If, again, you con- 
 
 1 Second Part of King Henry IV., Act v.
 
 Essay liii.] Annotations. 557 
 
 sider a seat in Parliament, or any other place you may occupy, 
 or the power of appointing another to such a place, as a sacred 
 trust for the public service, and, therefore, requiring sometimes 
 the sacrifice of private friendship, if you do justice to an oppo- 
 nent against a friend, or to a worse man (when he happens to 
 have right on his side) against a better, if you refuse to sup- 
 port your friends, or those you have been accustomed to act 
 with, or those to whom you have a personal obligation, when 
 they are about doing something that is wrong, if you decline 
 making application on behalf of a friend to those who would expect 
 you, in return, to place your votes and interest at their disposal, 
 whether your own judgment approved of their measures or not, 
 in these and other such cases, you will be perhaps more blamed 
 or despised by the generality, than commended or admired. 
 For, party-men will usually pardon a zealous advocate of their 
 party for many great faults, more readily than they will pardon 
 the virtue of standing quite aloof from party, and doing strict 
 justice to all. It will often happen, therefore, that when a man 
 of very great real excellence does acquire great and general 
 esteem, four-fifths of this will have been bestowed on the minor 
 virtues of his character ; and four-fifths of his admirers will have 
 either quite overlooked the most truly admirable of his qualities, 
 or else regarded them as pardonable weaknesses. 
 
 You should guard, then, against the opposite dangers of 
 either lowering your own moral standard to the level of some of 
 your neighbours, or judging too hardly of them. Your general 
 practical rule should be, to expect more of yourself than of 
 others. Of course it is not meant that a man is to think over- 
 highly of himself and ' despise others/ He is not to think his 
 conduct better than others, only his capabilities. A man who 
 feels himself capable of generous and exalted conduct (I do not 
 mean, feels that he shall always act thus, for who dares pro- 
 mise himself this? but who feels that it is not beyond his 
 conception, or unnatural to him), when he measures others by 
 his own standard, and is disappointed with them, will remember 
 that every man shall be judged ' according to that he hath, and 
 not according to that he hath not/ He will feel that more is 
 required of him, as being placed in a higher walk of duty; and 
 will thus be even the less satisfied with his conformity to so 
 lofty a standard.
 
 558 Of Praise. [Essay liii. 
 
 This is a point which it is important to dwell on, because, be- 
 sides those who (as Bacon has elsewhere expressed it) are, intel- 
 lectually, ' soaring angels/ and morally, ' crawling serpents ;' 
 there are also some whose moral superiority does not keep pace 
 with their intellectual ; who are indeed much better men than 
 the common run, but yet not so much above them in that, as 
 they are in intelligence. Such a person has been compared to 
 the Image in the King of Babylon's dream, with a head of gold, 
 and a breast of silver a precious metal indeed, but inferior to 
 that of the head. 
 
 Although, then, a man of elevated character will be humbled 
 by his frequent failures, yet, as a fair and due sense of dignity, 
 which arises from a consciousness of superior station, is not 
 only right but needful, in a gentleman, a peer, or a king, to 
 make them fill their stations gracefully; so it is here : that 
 proper sense of his own moral dignity is necessary for a great 
 and generous disposition, if he would act up to his character. 
 The excess thereof will be checked by habits of true piety, which 
 cannot but make him feel his own littleness in the strongest 
 manner ; and by continually asking himself ' Who made thee to 
 differ from another? or, What hast thou that thou didst not 
 receive?' he will be guarded against despising his inferiors. 
 For, generous and ungenerous pride are not only different (as 
 all would allow), but, in most points, opposite. A man of the 
 former character makes allowances for others which he will not 
 make for himself; the latter, allowances for himself, which he 
 will not, for others : he is ready enough to think that this, and 
 that, is not good enough for him ; but the other thinks a base 
 action not good enough for him, and does not regard his supe- 
 riority as a privilege to act in a manner which, in his view, 
 would degrade him from it ; and, while doing the most generous 
 actions himself, as things of course, he will make the readiest 
 allowance for others' deficiencies. He will do good without 
 calculating upon much gratitude; yet will be grateful, with 
 most generous ardour, himself. To take any unfair advan- 
 tages, or even to take all fair ones to press his rights to the 
 utmost to press close to the limits of what is wrong, and 
 anxiously consider whether he may be allowed to do this, or 
 omit that, he disdains, and would feel degraded by it. Of the vir- 
 tues of such a man as this, the vulgar have indeed no perception. 
 He that assails error because it is error, without respect of
 
 Essay liii.] Annotations. 
 
 persons, must be prepared for a storm from the party who were 
 fanning him with the gentle breath of praise, so long as he 
 had been dealing with the errors of the party opposed to them. 
 They say with the rat to the mouse (in a ludicrous poem, on a 
 house much infested with rats and mice, into which a cat had 
 been brought), 
 
 ' Said the other, this cat, if she murder a rat, 
 Must needs be a very great sinner, 
 But to feed upon mice can't be counted a vice 
 I myself like a mouse for my dinner.' 
 
 It should be added, however, for the credit of human nature, 
 that, by a steady adherence to high principles, a man is likely 
 in the long run, though not speedily, to create such a public 
 confidence as will give him an influence beyond that of other 
 men, of equal or of superior ability. 
 
 The following anecdote may be relied on : When the Poor- 
 law-amendment Bill was going through the House of Commons, 
 Lord Althorp, who was then the ministerial leader in the 
 House, was called on to answer a strong objection which was 
 raised to one of the clauses. He rose and said that ' this very 
 objection had occurred to himself; and that he had thereupon 
 stated it to the framers of the Bill, who had given an answer 
 which completely met the objection. But what that answer 
 was, he was sorry to say, he could not at that moment recollect ; 
 though he assured the House that it was perfectly satisfactory.' 
 This satisfied every one, such was the confidence felt in his 
 judgment and his integrity : the clause was allowed to pass 
 without further opposition ! 
 
 f There are so many false points of praise' 
 
 That censure and commendation should in so many instances 
 be indiscriminate, can surprise no one who recollects how rare 
 a quality discrimination is, and how much better it suits indo- 
 lence, as well as ignorance, to lay down a rule, than to ascertain 
 the exceptions to it. 
 
 ' Some praises come of good wishes' 
 
 The word 'macarize' has been adopted by some Oxford- men 
 who are familiar with Aristotle, to supply a word wanting in our
 
 560 Of Praise. [Essay liii. 
 
 language. ' Felicitate ' and 'congratulate' are (in actual usage) 
 confined to events. A man is congratulated on his marriage, 
 but not on having a good wife. And sometimes ' I envy you* 
 is used, when it is understood that there is no envy in the bad 
 (which is the proper) sense. I believe the French sometimes 
 say * Je vous en fais mes compliments.' It may be said that 
 men are admired for what they are, commended for what they 
 do, and macarized for what they have. 
 
 Of the ( praises that come of good wishes/ none have such 
 influence as the daily droppings of domestic flattery to use the 
 word flattery in the sense of undue praise merely. Laudari a 
 laudato viro 1 is what every one would prize most ; but other 
 praises may make up in tale what they want in weight. 
 
 It has been observed, however, by some writer, that ' no one 
 is a hero to his valet.' This may be sometimes from the in- 
 capacity (above noticed) of the vulgar for appreciating the 
 highest qualities. The valet has opportunities of knowing that 
 his master needs to eat, drink, and sleep, &c., like other 
 mortals ; and perhaps he has seen him subject to sickness and 
 other human infirmities. Caesar is represented by Shakespere as 
 disparaged by those who remembered him ' shaking in an ague/ 
 and calling out ' Give me some drink, Titinius ! like a sick girl/ 
 
 Perhaps, too, the valet has found his own superiority in some 
 of the minor details of every- day life. He is more handy in 
 packing up a trunk, or setting a razor ; and more skilful in the 
 arrangements for a journey, &c. And of the higher qualifica- 
 tions of the hero, he may have perhaps [_' sensus nullus'] no 
 perception. 
 
 With some minds, again, mere familiarity produces its pro- 
 verbial effect. The highest intellectual and moral qualities may 
 cease to excite any great admiration in one who has become so 
 thoroughly used to them as to look for their manifestation as a 
 matter of course : while any imperfection, on the other hand, 
 strikes him by its contrast, even as ' the smallest speck is seen 
 on snow.' It is at a meteor or a comet that men gaze with 
 awe and admiration, who feel little or none at the splendid 
 spectacle of th.e sun, moon, and stars, which they are used to. 
 And to view all such objects with indifference, was considered 
 
 ^ * To be praised by one who is himself thought praiseworthy.
 
 Essay liii.] Annotations. 561 
 
 by Horace no very profound philosopher as a mark of 
 wisdom. 
 
 The above is the description of the most unthinking. Those, 
 again, who are a little and but a little more reflective, finding 
 that most people impute to them, as a matter of course, an 
 over-veneration for any eminent person they may be connected 
 with, are not unlikely to think that they cannot go too far in 
 the opposite direction, and (as was observed in the ' Annotations' 
 on Essays IV. and XXXVIII.) rush into the contrary extreme. 
 And this dread of partiality, combined with the usual effect of 
 familiarity, sometimes leads to an undue depreciation of what 
 is excellent. 
 
 In one of the comedies of the early part of last century 
 (many of which, though in bad taste, have considerable wit, 
 and some wisdom) a man is represented complaining to a friend 
 how desperately he is in love with a lady, in spite of her faults ; 
 though he has noted them, and written a list of them, which 
 he has dwelt on till quite familiar with them ; and still, he 
 complained, he was more and more in love. ' Oh, I will tell 
 you a remedy,' says the other : ' marry her ; get as familiar 
 with her virtues, as you are with her faults ; and your passion 
 will be cured/ 
 
 Hence, perhaps, partly, it may be that the proverb is some- 
 times applicable, of ( a prophet being without honour in his own 
 country/ 
 
 ' Certainly moderate praise, used with opportunity, and not 
 vulgar, is that which doeth the good.' 
 
 It is worth remarking that praise is one of the things which 
 almost everyone must wish for, and be glad of, yet which it is 
 not allowable to seek for as an end. To obtain the approbation 
 of the wise and good, by doing what is right, simply because it 
 is right, is most gratifying to the natural and allowable wish to 
 escape the censure and gain the approbation f our fellow- 
 creatures ; but to make this gratification, either wholly or 
 partly, our object to hold up a finger on purpose (and for 
 that sole purpose) to gain the applause of the whole world, is 
 unjustifiable. 
 
 A well-known writer once acknowledged his having said what 
 
 o o
 
 3 6s Of Praise. [Essay liii. 
 
 he did from ' a \vish to be orthodox/ Now, such a wish merely 
 as a wish is quite natural and allowable ; for almost everyone 
 would prefer being on the side of the majority; and this will of 
 course be, by the majority, accounted orthodoxy. But he evi- 
 dently meant that he was practically influenced by the wish, 
 that he acted with a view to the reputation for orthodoxy, and 
 did not merely welcome it if it came spontaneously while he 
 was aiming simply at truth. And accordingly he had his 
 reward, in becoming a great party-leader ; and he abandoned 
 truth. 
 
 ' No man can serve two masters ;' not because they are ne- 
 cessarily at variance, but because they are two, and do not 
 necessarily draw the same way. Even worldly profit (Mammon) 
 will often be secured by the same conduct as would be dictated 
 by a regard for divine favour ; for ' honesty is in general the 
 best policy/ But sometimes the two will pull different ways ; 
 and then it is that it will appear which master a man is serving. 
 The desire of Truth must reign supreme, and everything else be 
 welcomed only if coming in her train. 
 
 Deference for the (supposed) wise and good, and love of 
 approbation, are two very distinct things, though in practice 
 very difficult to be distinguished. The former may be felt to- 
 wards those whom we never can meet with, who perhaps were 
 dead, ages before we were born, and survive only in their 
 writings. It may be misplaced, or excessive ; but it is quite 
 different from the desire of their applause or sympathy, or dread 
 of their displeasure or contempt. A man's desire to find him- 
 self in agreement with Aristotle, or Bacon, or Locke, or Paley, 
 &c., whether reasonable or unreasonable, can have nothing to 
 do with their approbation of him. But when we are glad to 
 concur with some living friends, whom we think highly of, and 
 dread to differ from, then it is very difficult to decide how far 
 this feeling is the presumption formed by our judgment in favour 
 of the correctness of their views, and how far it is the desire 
 of their approbation and sympathy, and dread of the reverse. 
 It is the desire of personal approbation, the excessive care con- 
 cerning what is thought of ourselves, that we are bound so 
 severely to check.
 
 Essay liii.] Annotations. 563 
 
 There is a distinction (alluded to above) between the love of 
 admiration and the love of commendation, that is worth remark- 
 ing. The tendency of the love of commendation is, chiefly, to 
 make a man exert himself; of the love of admiration, to make 
 him puff himself. The love of admiration leads to fraud, much 
 more than the love of commendation ; but, on the other hand, 
 the latter is much more likely to spoil our good actions by the 
 substitution of an inferior motive. And if we would guard 
 against this, we must set ourselves resolutely to act as if we 
 cared neither for praise nor censure, for neither the bitter nor 
 the sweet; and in time a man gets hardened. And this will 
 always be the case, more or less, -through God's help, if we will 
 but persevere, and persevere from a right motive. One gets 
 hardened, as the Canadians do to walking in snow shoes [raquets]; 
 at first a man is almost crippled with the ' mal au raquet' 
 the pain and swelling of the feet ; but the prescription is, to 
 go on walking in them, as if you felt nothing at all ; and in a 
 few days you do feel nothing. 
 
 Much eloquence and ingenuity is often exerted, in descanting 
 on the propriety of not being wholly indifferent to the opinions 
 formed of us the impossibility of eradicating the regard for 
 approbation and the folly of attempting it, or pretending to 
 it, &c. Now, this is very true. The propensity to desire to gain 
 approval and escape censure, we are not called upon to extir- 
 pate (that being, I conceive, impossible) ; but our care and 
 pains are better bestowed in keeping under the feeling than 
 in eradicating it. It must be treated like the grass on a 
 lawn which you wish to keep in good order : you neither 
 attempt, nor wish, to destroy the grass; but you mow it down 
 from time to time, as close as you possibly can, well trusting 
 that there will be quite enough left, and that it will be sure to 
 grow again. 
 
 One difficulty in acting upon this principle is, that it is often 
 even a duty to seek the good opinion of others, not as an 
 ultimate object for its own sake, but for the sake of influencing 
 them for their own benefit, and that of others. ' Let your 
 light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, 
 and glorify your Father which is in heaven/ But we are to 
 watch and analyse the motives even of actions which we are 
 sure are in themselves right. ' Take heed that ye do not 
 
 003
 
 Of Praise. [Essay liii'. 
 
 your alms before men, to be seen of them.' And this is 
 a kind of vigilance which human nature is always struggling 
 to escape. One class of men are satisfied so long as they 
 do what is justifiable; what may be done from a good motive, 
 and, when so done, would be right, and which therefore may 
 be satisfactorily defended. Another class the ascetic are 
 for cutting off everything that may be a snare. They have 
 heard of 'the deceitfulness of riches/ and so they vow poverty; 
 which is less trouble than watching their motives in gaining, 
 and in spending, money. And so on with the rest. But if 
 we would cut off all temptations, we must cut off our heads at 
 once. 
 
 The praise of men is not the test of our praiseworthiness ; 
 nor is their censure ; but either should set us upon testing our- 
 selves. 
 
 It is to be observed that, in some cases, censure is equivalent 
 to high praise. If, for instance, those who wish to perpetuate 
 some abuse, fiercely assail one who advocates needful reform, or 
 if revolutionists of any description decry some defender of law 
 and order, this affords a presumption that he is a formidable 
 champion. And the more pains they take to assure us that 
 his arguments deserve nothing but contempt, the more they 
 prove that they themselves do not feel any. Again, if any de- 
 fender of the truth of Christianity, who refuses to join any 
 Party in the Church, is thereupon denounced as unsound by 
 zealous party-men, this adds to the force of his arguments, by 
 indicating that the belief he professes is sincere, and not assumed 
 for the sake of popularity. And if, again, some violent and in- 
 judicious advocates of a good cause are doing it harm instead 
 of good, so that it is needful for a wise and moderate man to 
 repudiate all connexion with them, no disclaimer on his part 
 will have so much weight, as their vehemently reviling him.
 
 ESSAY LIY. OF VAIN GLORY. 
 
 IT was prettily devised of JEsop, 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 1 must needs be factious ; for all bravery 2 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, pen de fruit' much bruit, 3 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 yEtolians, there are sometimes 
 great effects of 5 cross lies, as if a man that negotiates between 
 two princes, to draw them to join in a war against a third, doth 
 extol the forces of either of them above measure, the one to 
 the other : and sometimes he that deals between man and man 
 raiseth his own credit with both, by pretending greater in- 
 terest that 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 sub- 
 stance. 
 
 In military commanders and soldiers, vain glory is an essen- 
 tial point; for as iron sharpens iron, so by glory 6 one courage 
 sharpeneth another. In cases of great enterprise upon 7 charge 
 
 1 Glorious. Boastful. See page 490. 
 
 2 Bravery. Ostentation. See page 409. 
 
 3 Bruit. Noise ; report. (This proverb has its parallel in the English one, 
 ' Great cry and little wool.') ' All that hear the bruit of thee/ Nahum iii. 19. 
 
 4 Vid. Liv. xxxvii. 48. & Of. From. See page 286. 
 
 6 Glory. Vaunting ; boastfulness. ' I will punish the glory of his high looks.' 
 Isaiah x. 
 
 ' On death-beds some in conscious glory lie, 
 
 Since of the doctor in the mode they die.' Young. 
 Upon. At. See p;ige 390.
 
 566 Of Vain Glory. [Essay liv. 
 
 and adventure, 1 a composition of glorious natures doth put life 
 into business ; and those that are of solid and sober natures, 
 have more of the ballast than of the sail. In fame of learning, 
 the flight .will be slow without some feathers of ostentation : 
 ' Qui de conternnenda gloria libros scribunt, nomen suum in- 
 Bcribunt." Socrates, Aristotle, Galen, were men full of osten- 
 tation : certainly vain glory helpeth to perpetuate a man's 
 memory ; and virtue was never so beholden 3 to human nature, 
 as 4 it received its 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, ' Om- 
 nium, quse dixerat feceratque, arte quadam ostentator : >& for that 
 proceeds not of vanity, but of natural magnanimity and discre- 
 tion ; and in some persons it is not only comely, but gracious : 6 
 for excusations, 7 cessions, 8 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 wittingly, 
 ' In commending another, you do yourself right ;' 9 for he that 
 you commend is either superior to you in that 10 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. 
 
 1 Charge and adventure. Cost and risk. ' That I may make the gospel of 
 Christ without charge,' i Cor. ix. 18. 'One castle yielded; hut two stood on 
 their adventure.' Hayward. 
 
 ' ' Those who write books on despising glory inscribe their names therein.' 
 Cicero, Tu.sc. Disp. i. 15. 
 
 3 Beholden. Indebted. 
 
 ' We are not much beholden to your love.' ShaTcespere. 
 
 4 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 | ' By a certain art he made a display of all he had said or done.' Hist. xi. So. 
 
 6 Gracious. Graceful. See page 456. 
 
 7 Excusation. Excuse} apology. 
 
 ' He made his excusaiion, 
 And feigneth cause of pure drede.' ShaJcespere. (Gower.) 
 
 8 Cessions. Concessions. 
 
 9 Plin. Epist. vi. 17. 
 
 10 That. What. See page 82.
 
 Essay liv.] Annotation. 567 
 
 Vain glorious men are the scorn of wise men, the admiration 
 of fools, the idols of parasites, and the slaves of their own 
 vaunts. 
 
 ANTITHETA ON VAIN GLOEY. 
 
 PEG. CONTBA. 
 
 'Qui suas laudes appetit, aliorum ***** 
 
 simul appetit utilitates. ' Turpe est proco solicitare ancillain 
 
 ' He who earnestly seeks glory for est autera virtutis ancilla laus. 
 himself, is seeking, at the same time, ' It is disgraceful for a wooer to pay 
 
 the ivelfare of others,' court to the handmaid; now glory is 
 
 the handmaid of virtue.' 
 
 ANNOTATION. 
 
 f 
 
 The following passage from the Lessons on Morals is some- 
 what to the purpose of this Essay : 
 
 ' It is a mistake to think that any one who does happen to 
 be superior to the generality, intellectually or morally, is bound, 
 as a point of modesty, to be ignorant of this, or to pretend to 
 be so, and to think, or profess to think, himself inferior to 
 what he really is. For, on the one hand, it cannot be a part 
 of Duty to be under any kind of mistake ; and, on the other 
 hand, there cannot be any virtue in feigning or affectation of 
 any kind. 
 
 1 Properly speaking, self-conceit and modesty have reference 
 to a man's estimate of himself as compared with the reality. A 
 conceited man oyer-rates himself; aud a modest man does not. 
 But many people do not at all take this into account. They 
 are apt to reckon a man conceited who has a high opinion 
 (whether rightly or wrongly) of his own powers ; and him 
 modest who forms a low one. And yet it may so happen that 
 this latter may be in reality over-rating himself in thinking 
 himself not below the average, or only a little below : and the 
 other may possibly be even under-rating himself in thinking 
 himself only a little above it. 
 
 ' If you could imagine a mouse imagining itself just equal to 
 such a small animal as a rabbit, and an elephant believing 
 itself only equal to such a large animal as an ox, they would be 
 making opposite mistakes.
 
 568 Of Vain Glory. [Essay liv. 
 
 'But if your belief is, that you do possess some superior 
 endowments as to any point, take care as far as regards your- 
 self to be thankful to the Giver of all such advantages, and 
 to remember that for every Talent entrusted to you, you are 
 accountable to Him. And, as far as regards others, take care 
 to avoid ostentation, and disdainful assumption of superiority. 
 For, this is offensive, even in such matters of fact as admit of 
 no possible mistake or doubt. A person, for instance, who 
 should have gained some great prize in a competition, or dis- 
 covered a new Planet, or invented a new Telegraph, or performed 
 some other notable exploit, must not boast, nor be always 
 reminding people of what he has done. 
 
 'And, on the other hand, even if he should be mistaken in 
 his opinion of his own abilities, and think them greater than 
 they are, a mere error of judgment will not be imputed to him 
 as a sin, provided he keep clear of pride ; nor will he be offen- 
 sive to others, if he is but free from disdainful arrogance, and 
 from ostentation. 
 
 f Again, there is no humility in a mere general confession 
 that you are a ' miserable sinner,' if in each particular case 
 you always stoutly justify yourself, and can never be brought to 
 own a fault. 
 
 ' Lastly, there is no humility in confessing any faults which 
 you do not strive to correct. It would indeed be a shocking 
 presumption to think that you need not aim at improvement, 
 but are quite good enough, being without faults ; but it is still 
 greater presumption to think that you are good enough with all 
 your faults. ' If we say that we have no sin, we deceive our- 
 selves ;' but if we say that we have sins, and yet do not earnestly 
 seek God's promised help ' to cleanse us from all unrighteous- 
 ness/ this would be even a more fatal self-deception. 
 
 ' Remember then that the virtue of Christian Humility is not 
 to be considered as some bitter potion which you can swallow 
 in a large dose, once for all, and so have done with it ; but 
 rather as a kind of alterative medicine, to be taken daily, and 
 drop by drop. 
 
 ' You must study, daily, to be open to conviction patient of 
 opposition ready to listen to reproof, even when you are not 
 convinced that it is deserved ready, when you are convinced, 
 to confess an error and glad to receive hints, and suggestions,
 
 Essay liv.] Annotation. 569 
 
 and corrections, even from your inferiors in ability and never 
 overbearing or uncharitable towards those who differ from you, 
 or ostentatious of superiority. 
 
 ' All this will be a more laborious and difficult task than to 
 make fine speeches about your ignorance, and weakness, and 
 sinfulness ; but it is thus that true Humility is shown, and is 
 exercised, and cultivated/
 
 ESSAY LV. OF HONOUR AND REPUTATION. 
 
 HHHE winning of honour is but the revealing of a man's virtue 
 -L and worth without disadvantage; for some in their actions 
 do woo and affect 1 honour and reputation which sort of men 
 are commonly much talked of, but inwardly little admired 
 and some contrariwise, 2 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 honour than by effecting a matter of 
 greater difficulty, or virtue, wherein he is but a follower. If a 
 man so temper his actions, as 4 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 5 of his honour that 
 entereth into any action, the failing wherein may disgrace him 
 more than the carrying of it through can honour him. Honour 
 that is gained and broken upon another 8 hath the quickest 
 reflection, like diamonds cut with fascets ; and, therefore, let a 
 man contend to excel any competitors of his honour, in out- 
 shooting them if he can, in their own bow. Discreet followers 
 and servants help much to reputation : ' Omnis fama a domes- 
 ticis emanat/ 7 Envy, which is the canker of honour, is best 
 extinguished 3 by declaring a man's self, in his ends rather to 
 
 1 Affect. To desire earnestly ; to aim at. See page i. 
 
 2 Contrariwise. On the contrary. See page 102. 
 
 3 Circumstances. Adjuncts. 
 
 ' The pomp and circumstance of glorious war.' Shakespere. 
 
 4 As. That. See page 26. 
 6 Husband. An economist. 
 
 ' You have scarce time 
 To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span, 
 To keep your earthly audit : sure, in that 
 I deem you an ill husband.' Shakespere. 
 
 Gained and broken upon another. (The Latin essay has, ' Honor qui com- 
 parativus est, et alium prscgravat.') Weighs down or depresses others. 
 * ' All fame emanates from domestics.' Q. Cic. de Petit. Consul, v. 17. 
 
 Most editions have 'distinguished' instead of 'extinguished' But the Latin 
 essay has ' extinguitur.'
 
 Essay lv.] Of Honour and Reputation. 571 
 
 seek merit than fame : and by attributing a man's successes 
 rather to divine Providence and felicity, than to his own 
 virtue or policy. 
 
 The true marshalling of the degrees of sovereign honour 
 are these : in the first place are ' conditores imperiorum/ 
 founders of States and commonwealths; such as were Ro- 
 mulus, Cyrus, Csesar, Ottoman, Ismael: in the second place 
 are ' legislatores/ lawgivers; which are also called second 
 founders, or ' perpetui principes/ 1 because they govern by their 
 ordinances after they are gone : such were Lycurgus, Solon, 
 Justinian, Edgar, Alphonsus of Castile, the wise, that made the 
 'Siete partidas:' 2 in third place are ' liberatores,' or 'salva- 
 tores ;' 3 such as compound 4 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 ' propugna- 
 tores imperii/ such as in honourable wars enlarge their terri- 
 tories, or make noble defence against invaders : and in the last 
 place, are ' patres patrise/ 6 which reign justly, and make the 
 times good wherein they live; both which last kinds need no 
 examples, they are in such number. Degrees of honour in 
 subjects, are, first, 'participes curarum/ 7 those upon whom, 
 princes do discharge the greatest weight of their affairs; their 
 right hands, as we may call them : the next are ' duces belli/ 8 
 great leaders; such as are princes' lieutenants, arid do them 
 notable 9 services in the wars : the third are ' gratiosi/ favourites ; 
 such as exceed not this scantling, 10 to be solace to the sovereign, 
 and harmless to the people: and the fourth, 'negotiis pares;" 1 
 
 I ' Perpetual rulers.' 
 
 - The ' Siete Partidas.' An ancient Spanish code of laws, divided into seven 
 parts ; hence its name. 
 
 3 ' Liberators' or ' preservers.' 
 
 4 Compound. To put an end to by adjustment of differences. 
 
 ' I would to God all strifes were well compounded.' Shakespere. 
 'Who should compound the controversies ?' Whitgift. 
 
 5 ' Extenders' or ' defenders of the empire.' 6 ' Fathers of their country.' 
 " ' Participators in cares.' 8 ' Leaders in wars.' 
 
 9 Notable. Remarkable. See page 553. 
 
 10 Scantling. A small proportion. ' In this narrow scantling of capacity we 
 enjoy but one pleasure at once.' Locke. ' A scantling of wit lay gasping for life 
 and groaning beneath a heap of rubbish.' Dryden. 
 
 II ' Equal to the management of affairs.'
 
 cfi2 Of Honour and Reputation. [Essay Iv. 
 
 such as have great places under princes, and execute their 
 places with sufficiency. 1 There is an honour, likewise, which 
 may be ranked amongst the greatest, which happen eth rarely ; 
 that is, of such as sacrifice themselves 2 to death or danger for 
 the good of their country; as was M. Regulus, and the two 
 Decii. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 Bacon does not advert to the circumstance, that one man 
 often gets the credit which is due to another ; one being the 
 ostensible, and another principally the real author of something 
 remarkable ; according tp the proverb, that ' little dogs find the 
 hare, but the big ones catch it/ And sometimes, again, the 
 thing itself that is the most difficult and the most important 
 will be overlooked, while much admiration is bestowed on 
 something else which was an easy, natural, and almost inevitable 
 result of it. 
 
 There cannot be a more striking example of this than the 
 vast importance attached to the invention of printing, and the 
 controversies as to who was the inventor; when, in fact, it was 
 the invention of a cheap paper that was the really important 
 step, and which could not but be speedily followed by the use 
 of printing. I say the use, because, when introduced, it could 
 hardly be called a new invention. The loaves of bread found 
 at Pompeii and Herculaneum were stamped with the baker's 
 name. And, in fact, the seals used by the ancients were a 
 stamp of the name, which was wetted with ink, and impressed 
 on the parchment; so that signing and sealing were one and 
 the same. Now all this is, substantially, of the character of 
 printing. "Whether we use fixed types, like the Chinese, or 
 moveable, is a mere matter of detail. 
 
 But the only cause why this was not applied by the ancients 
 to books, handbills, &c., was the costliness of papyrus and 
 
 1 Sufficiency. Ability. See page 29 1 . 
 5 Sacrifice themselves. Devote themselves.
 
 Essay Iv.] Annotations. 
 
 parchment. This limited the sale to so small a number of 
 copies, that printing would have cost more than transcribing. 
 As soon as a cheap material for books was invented, it was 
 likely to occur, and probably did occur, to many, that a lower 
 price, and a wider sale, would be secured by some kind of 
 stamp. 
 
 Then, as to the real performers of some great feat, or ori- 
 ginators of some measure or institution, History would furnish 
 many instances of mistakes that have prevailed. A poem has 
 come down to us celebrating Harmodius and Aristogeiton as 
 having slain the tyrant of Athens, and restored liberty to their 
 country. And Thucydides, who lived among the grandchildren 
 of those who remembered the transaction, complains that such, 
 was the prevalent belief in his own day ; though Hipparchus, 
 whom those men assassinated, was not the tyrant, but was 
 brother of Hippias, the actual sovereign, and who continued to 
 reign some years longer. 
 
 In our own day, three of the most important measures were 
 brought about, ostensibly, by ministers who, so far from being 
 the real authors of them, were, in their own judgment and 
 inclination, decidedly opposed to them the repeal of the 
 Roman-catholic disabilities, the abolition of slavery, and 
 the introduction of free trade in corn. The ministries of 
 the Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel are well known 
 to have been hostile to what was called Roman-catholic 
 emancipation, and advocates of the corn laws, and to have 
 been driven by necessity to take the steps they did. Yet it 
 is possible that they may go down to posterity as the authors 
 of those two great changes. It is not so generally known that 
 Lord Melbourne, then one of the ministers, on going out of 
 the House of Lords on the night that the bill passed for 
 abolishing slavery, remarked to an acquaintance that if he could 
 have had his own way in that matter, he would have left it 
 quite alone. 
 
 It is remarkable that Bacon has said nothing about men's 
 solicitude concerning posthumous reputation, that delusion of 
 the imagination (for it surely is such) of which there is perhaps 
 no one quite destitute, and which is often found peculiarly 
 strong in those who disbelieve a Future State, and deride the 
 believers. Yet granting that these latter are mistaken, and are
 
 574 Of Honour and Reputation. [Essay Iv. 
 
 only grasping at a shadow, still they are hoping for what they 
 at least believe to be real. They expect whether erroneously 
 or no t to have an actual consciousness of the enjoyment they 
 look forward to. The others are aware that, when they shall 
 have attained the prize of posthumous glory, they shall have no 
 perception of it. They know that it is a shade they are grasp- 
 ing at. Yet Hume had this solicitude about his posthumous 
 fame. ' Knowing/ says the Edinburgh Revieiv, 1 ' from Pope 
 what is meant by a ruling passion, it is a poor thing to set it 
 on the die of literary fame. In one way, he made the most of 
 it ; for his prescience of his growing reputation certainly soothed 
 him in his last illness. 2 This was something ; but it is surely 
 singular. Delusion for delusion, the manes fabulaque of another 
 world are at least an improvement on the after-life of post- 
 humous renown. Immortality on earth fades away before the 
 light of immortality in a future state. On the other hand, 
 what is to be said but ' vanity of vanities \' when a philosopher 
 who has no expectation of a future state, and who is contem- 
 plating annihilation with complacency, is found, notwithstand- 
 ing this, busied on his death-bed about his posthumous fame? 
 careful what men may be saying of his essays and his 
 histories, after he himself is sleeping in the grave, where all 
 things are forgotten 1' 
 
 ' . . . Which sort of men are commonly much talked of.' 
 
 'A sort of man' that is not only much talked of, but com- 
 monly admired, is a man who, along with a considerable degree 
 of cleverness and plausible fluency, is what is called puzzle- 
 headed : destitute of sound, clear, cautious judgment. This 
 puzzle-headeduess conduces much to a very sudden and rapid 
 rise to a (short-lived) celebrity. 
 
 Such was the description once given of an author, who was 
 
 1 See an article on David Hume, Edinburgh Review, No. clxxi. January, 1847. 
 
 * There is a rumour afloat, which it is said has been traced up to the nurse who 
 attended him in his last illness, that the cheerful calmness with which he is recorded 
 to have awaited death, was only assumed in the presence of his old associates, to 
 keep up his credit with them to the last, and that inwardly he was a prey to the 
 most gloomy feelings, which were manifested when those friends were absent. 
 
 The truth or falsity of this account can never be fully ascertained in this world. 
 It certainly is not at all intrinsically improbable.
 
 Essay lv.] . Annotations. 
 
 at that time more talked about than almost any individual in 
 the empire, and whom many admired as a surpassing genius, 
 who had fully confuted the doctrines of Malthus, and made pro- 
 digious discoveries in political science. One of the company 
 took up the speaker very sharply ; observing that it was strange 
 to speak disparagingly of a man who, without wealth, birth, or 
 high connexions, had so very rapidly acquired great celebrity. 
 The other replied by making the observation just above given. 
 For, men do not, said he, give up their prejudices, and adopt 
 new views, very readily ; and consequently, one who refutes pre- 
 vailing errors, and brings to light new or forgotten truths, will 
 at first, and for a good while, find favour with but few. He will 
 therefore have to wait (as was the case with Malthus) many 
 years, and perhaps to his life's end, before he is appreciated. 
 His credit will be lasting, but slow of growth. But the way to 
 rise to sudden popularity, is to be a plausible advocate of pre- 
 vailing doctrines, and to defend, with some appearance of origi- 
 nality, something which men like to believe, but have no good 
 reason for believing. 
 
 Now this will never be done so well by the most skilful dis- 
 sembler, as by one who is himself the sincere dupe of his own 
 fallacies, and brings them forward accordingly with an .air of 
 simple earnestness. And this implies his being with whatever 
 ingenuity and eloquence puzzle-headed. 
 
 There seemed to the company to be something in this ; but 
 they were as loth to admit it, as (according to the remark 
 just above) men usually are in such a matter. ' What do you 
 say/ they replied, ' to Mr. Pitt ? He was an admired states- 
 man at the age of twenty-three; and was he a puzzle-headed 
 man?' 
 
 ( Why, not generally such/ was the answer ; ' but he was such 
 in reference to the particular point which mainly contributed to 
 obtain him that very early and speedy popularity. Look at the 
 portraits of him at that time, and you will see a paper in his 
 hand, or on his table, inscribed ' Sinking Fund/ It was his 
 eloquent advocacy of that delusion (as all, now, admit it to have 
 been) which brought him such sudden renown. And he could 
 not have so ably recommended nor indeed would he probably 
 have adopted that juggle of Dr. Price's, if he had not been him- 
 self the dupe of his fallacy ; as Lord Grenville also was ; who
 
 Of Honour and Reputation. [Essay Iv. 
 
 afterwards published a pamphlet in which he frankly exposed 
 the delusion/ 
 
 This could not be denied to be a confirmation of the paradox. 
 And then another case, the converse of the above was adduced 
 on the same side : a case in which the whole British nation were, 
 in one particular, manifestly puzzle-headed, except one man : 
 who was accordingly derided by all. In the dispute between 
 Great Britain and her American colonies, though there were 
 great differences of opinion some being for, and others against 
 taxing them ; some for force, and some for conciliation all 
 agreed that the loss of them the dismemberment of the Empire 
 would be a heavy calamity ; and how to keep them was the 
 problem to be solved. But Dean Tucker, standing quite alone, 
 wrote a pamphlet to show that the separation would be NO loss 
 at all, and that we had best give them the independence they 
 coveted, at once, and in a friendly way. Some thought he was 
 writing in jest : the rest despised him as too absurd to be worth 
 answering. But now (and for above half a century) every one 
 admits that he was quite right, and regrets that his view was 
 not adopted. He might well have used the description of 
 Thucydides applied to his own work ; KT^IO. SQ atl na\\ov, T) 
 ayuviapa sq TO Trapayj)r)/j.a. aKoveiv, ^vyKfirai. 1 
 
 By the bye, it is remarkable that Professor Smyth, who gives 
 him due praise for this view, remarks, at the same time, on his 
 strange absurdity in saying, that it would be very easy (though 
 not at all worth while) to subdue the American insurgents; 
 and that a hastily raised, disorderly militia could have no chance 
 against a well disciplined and well commanded regular army. 
 
 But from the documents brought forward in an admirable 
 article in the Edinburgh Review (January, 1846), on European 
 and American State-Confederacies, it appears that Dean Tucker 
 was right there also that the game was in our hands, and 
 Washington reduced to the brink of despair, and that nothing 
 would have saved his cause, but such a series of blundering 
 follies on the part of the British commanders, as never occurred 
 before or since, and such as no one would have calculated on. 
 
 Of all the clever men then that at that time existed, and 
 many of whom spoke eloquently on each side, Tucker was the 
 
 1 It is composed so as to be regarded as a possession for ever, rather than as a 
 prize declamation, intended only tor the present.
 
 Essay lv.] Annotations. 577 
 
 only one who was not puzzle-headed. And he obtained some 
 small share of late credit, but present contempt. 
 
 A very clear-headed man will always have detected some 
 popular fallacies, and perceived some truths generally overlooked; 
 and, in short, will always be somewhat in advance of the common 
 run of his contemporaries. And if he has the courage to speak 
 out on these points, he must wait till the next generation for 
 the chief part at least of his popularity. The fame of clever 
 but puzzle-headed advocates of vulgar errors, will spring up like 
 a mushroom in a night, which rots in a day. His will be a 
 tree, ' seris factura iiepotibus umbram.' ' 
 
 The author in question furnished a striking confirmation of 
 the paradox. In two or three years he and his book were 
 totally forgotten. He himself outlived, by a good many years, 
 his own mushroom-celebrity. He went off, like a comet into 
 its aphelion, and became invisible. It would be difficult to find 
 a copy of his works, except at the trunk-maker's. And the 
 prophecy concerning him, in the conversation above recorded, 
 is probably forgotten also by those who took part in it. ( Ipsse 
 periere ruinse.' 2 
 
 The truth is, that what people in general most readily and 
 most cordially approve, is the echo of their own sentiments ; 
 and whatever effect this may produce must be short-lived. We 
 hear of volcanic islands thrown up in a few days to a formidable 
 size, and, in a few weeks or months, sinking down again or 
 washed away ; while other islands, which are the summits of 
 banks covered with weed and drift sand, continue slowly in- 
 creasing year after year, century after century. The man that 
 is in a hurry to see the full effect of his own tillage, should cul- 
 tivate annuals, and not forest trees. The clear-headed lover of 
 truth is content to wait for the result of his. If he is wrong 
 in the doctrines he maintains, or the measures he proposes, at 
 least it is not for the sake of immediate popularity. If he is 
 right, it will be found out in time, though, perhaps, not in his 
 time. The preparers of the mummies were (Herodotus says) 
 driven out of the house by the family who had engaged their 
 services, with execrations and stones ; but their work remains 
 sound after three thousand years. 
 
 1 Destined to afford shade to one's grandchildren. 
 8 The very ruins are lost. 
 
 P P
 
 ESSAY LVI. 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 Scrip- 
 ture, doth not stick 1 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. 
 f Cursed (saith the law) is he that removeth the landmark/ 2 
 The mislayer of a mere stone is to blame ; but it is the unjust 
 judge that is the capital remover of landmarks, when he de- 
 fineth amiss of land and property. One foul sentence doth 
 more hurt than many foul examples ; for these do but corrupt 
 the stream, the other corrupteth the fountain so saith Solo- 
 mon, ' Fons turbatus, et vena corrupta est Justus cadens in 
 causa sua coram adversario/ 3 
 
 The office of judges may have a reference unto the parties 
 that sue, unto the advocates that plead, unto clerks and minis- 
 ters of justice underneath them, and to the sovereign or State 
 above them. 
 
 First, for the causes of parties that sue. There be (saith 
 the Scripture) 'that turn judgment into wormwood;' 4 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 5 out as the surfeit of courts. A judge ought to 
 
 1 Stick. To scruple ; to hesitate. ' Rather than impute our miscarriages to our 
 own corruptions, we do not stick to arraign Providence itself.' L' Estrange. 
 
 2 Deul. xxvii. 17. 
 
 5 ' A righteous man falling in his cause before his adversary is as a troubled 
 fountain and a corrupt spring.' Prov. xxv. 26. 
 
 4 Amos v. 7. * 
 
 1 Spew. To eject with loaiUng. ' Because thou art lukewarm, and neither 
 cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my mouth.' Eevel. iii. 16.
 
 Essay Ivi.] Of Judicature. 
 
 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 a high hand, violent persecution, cun- 
 ning 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 even ground. ' Qui fortiter 
 emungit, elicit sanguinem; 1 ' and where thewine-press is hard 
 wrought, 2 it yields a harsh wine, that tastes of the grape-stone. 
 Judges must beware of hard constructions and strained infe- 
 rences ; for there is no worse torture than the torture of laws ; 
 especially in case of laws penal, they ought to have care, that 
 that which was meant for terror/ be not turned into rigour : 
 and that they bring not upon people that shower whereof the 
 Scripture speaketh, ' Pluet super eos laqueos ;' 4 for penal laws 
 pressed, are a shower of snares upon the people : therefore let 
 penal laws, if they have been sleepers of long, 5 or if they be 
 grown unfit for the present time, be by wise judges confined in 
 the execution : ' Judicis ofncium est, ut res, ita tempora rerum/ 
 &c. 6 In causes of life and death, judges ought (as far as the law 
 pernritteth) 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 
 over-speaking judge is no well-tuned cymbal. 7 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 8 in cutting 
 off evidence or counsel too short, or to prevent 9 information by 
 questions, though pertinent. The parts of a judge in hear- 
 ing are four : to direct the evidence ; to moderate length, 
 
 1 ' Who wrings hard draws forth blood/ Cf. Prov. xxx. 33. 
 
 2 Wrought. Worked. ' It had been a breach of peace to have wrought any 
 mine of his.' Raleigh. 
 
 3 Terror. What may excite dread. ' Rulers are not a terror to good works, 
 but to evil.' Romans xiii. 3. 
 
 4 ' He shall rain snares upon them.' Psalm xi. 6. 
 
 5 Of. For; during. 'He was desirous to see him of a long season.' Luke 
 xxiii. 8. 
 
 6 ' It is the duty of a judge to take into consideration the times, as well as the 
 circumstances, of facts.' Ovid, Trist. 1. i. 37. 
 
 7 Psalm cl. 5. 
 
 8 Conceit. Conception ; apprehension. ' I shall be found of a quick conceit in 
 judgment, and I shall be admired.' Wisdom viii. n. 
 
 9 Prevent. Forestall. See Matt, xvii.25- 
 
 P P 2
 
 580 Of Judicature. [Essay Ivi. 
 
 repetition, or impertinency 1 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 2 glory 3 and willingness to 
 speak, or of impatience to hear, or of shortness of memory, or 
 of want of a stayed 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 favourites, 
 which cannot but cause multiplication of fees and suspicion of 
 by-ways. There is due from the judge to the advocate some 
 commendation and gracing, 4 where causes are well handled and 
 fair 6 pleaded, especially towards the side which obtaineth 6 not; 
 for that upholds in the client the reputation of his counsel, and 
 beats down in him the conceit 7 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 over-bold defence. And let not the 
 counsel at the bar chop 8 with the judge, nor wind himself into 
 the handling of the cause anew, after the judge hath declared 
 his sentence ; but, on the other side, let not the judge meet the 
 cause half-way, nor give occasion to the party to say his counsel 
 or proofs were not heard. 
 
 Thirdly, for that that concerns clerks and ministers. The 
 place of justice is a hallowed place ; and therefore not only the 
 
 1 Impertinency. Irrelevancy. See page os. 
 8 Of. From. See page 286. 
 
 3 Glory. Display ; vaunting. See page 565. 
 
 4 Grace. To favour. 
 
 ' Regardless pass'dher o'er, nor grac'd with kind adieu.' Dry den. 
 s Fair. Fairly. 
 
 ' Entreat her /air.' Shakespere. 
 
 8 Obtain. To prevail ; succeed. ' Thou shalt not obtain nor escape by fleeing.' 
 Ecclesiasticus xi. IO. 
 
 7 Conceit. Opinion. ' Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit ? There is 
 more hope of a fool than of him.' Prov. xxvi. 12. 
 
 ' I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit 
 The king hath of you.' Shakespere. 
 
 8 Chop. To bandy words. 
 
 The chopping French we do not understand.' Shakespere.
 
 Essay IvL] Of Judicature. 581 
 
 bench, but the footpace 1 and precincts, and purprise 2 thereof, 
 ought to be preserved without scandal and corruption; for, 
 certainly, grapes (as the Scripture saith) ' will not be gathered 
 of thorns or thistles/ 3 neither can justice yield her fruit with 
 sweetness amongst the briars and brambles of catching and 
 polling 4 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 curise/ but ' parasiti 
 curiae/ 5 in puffing a court up beyond her bounds for their own 
 scraps and advantages : the third sort is of those that may be 
 accounted the left hands of courts : 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 5 and exacter 
 of fees, which justifies the common resemblance of the courts 
 of justice to the bush, whereunto while the sheep flies for de- 
 fence in weather, he is sure to lose part of the fleece. On the 
 other side, an ancient 7 clerk, skilful in precedents, wary in pro- 
 ceedings, and understanding in the business of the court, is an 
 excellent figure of a court, and doth many times point the way 
 to the judge himself. 
 
 Fourthly, for that which may concern the sovereign and 
 estate. Judges ought, above all, to remember the conclusion 
 of the Roman twelve tables, ' Salus populi suprema lex/ 8 and 
 to know that laws, except they be in order to that end, are but 
 things captious, and oracles not well inspired : therefore it is a 
 happy thing in a State, when kings and states do often consult 
 
 1 Footpace. A lobby. 
 
 2 Purprise. Enclosure. ' But their wives and children were to assemble toge- 
 ther in a certain place in Phocis, and they filled the purprises and precincts 
 thereof with a huge quantity of food.' Holland. 
 
 3 Matt. vii. 1 6. 
 
 4 Polling. Plundering. ' Peeling and polling were voyded, and in place thereof 
 succeeded liberality.' Erasmus. 
 
 * ' Friends of the court,' but ' parasites of the court.' 
 
 6 Poller. Plunderer. ' With Sallust, he may rail downright at a spoiler of 
 countries, and yet in office to be a most grievous poller himself.' Burton. 
 
 1 Ancient. Senior. ' Junius and Andronicus were in Christianity his ancients' 
 Hooker. 
 
 8 ' The safety of the people is the supreme law.'
 
 582 Of Judicature. [Essay Ivi. 
 
 with judges : and again, when judges do often consult with the 
 king and State : the one, where there is matter of law inter- 
 venient 1 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/ J 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 : s let them be lions, but yet lions under 
 the throne ; being circumspect, that they do not check or oppose 
 any points of sovereignty. Let not judges also be so ignorant 
 of their own right as to think there is not left them, as a prin- 
 cipal 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/ 4 
 
 ANTITHETA. 
 
 PBO. CONTRA. 
 
 ' Non est interpretatio, sed divinatio, ' Ex omnibus verbis eliciendus est 
 
 quse recedit a litera. sensus, qui interpretur singula. 
 
 ' If we depart from the letter, we are ' The sense of the whole should be 
 
 not interpreting the law, but guessing at taken as the interpreter of each single 
 
 the law.' word.' 
 
 ' Cum receditur a litera, judex transit ' Pessima tyrannis lex in equuleo. 
 
 in legislatorem. Law put to the rack is the worst of 
 
 ' When we depart from the letter, the tyrannies' 
 judge w changed into a legislator' 
 
 1 Intervenient. Intervening. ' I omit things intervenient.' Wotton. 
 
 2 ' Mine' and ' thine.' 
 
 3 i Kings x. 20. 
 
 4 ' We know that the law is good, if a man use it lawfully.' i Tim. i. 8.
 
 Essay Ivi.] Annotation. 383 
 
 ANNOTATION. 
 
 ' There is due to the public a civil reprehension of advocates, 
 
 where there appeareth cunning counsel, indiscreet 
 
 pressing, or an over-bold defence.' 
 
 The temptation to an ' over-bold defence' to a wilful mis- 
 leading of a judge or jury by specious sophistry, or seeking to 
 embarrass an honest witness, and bring his testimony into dis- 
 credit is one to which the advocate is, undeniably, greatly ex- 
 posed. Nay, it has even been maintained by no mean authority, 1 
 ' that it is part of a pleader's duty to have no scruples about 
 any act whatever that may benefit his client/ ' There are 
 many whom it may be needful to remind/ says an eminent 
 lawyer, f that an advocate, by the sacred duty of his connexion 
 with his client, knows, in the discharge of that office, but one 
 person in the world that client, and none other. To serve 
 that client, by all expedient means, to protect that client at all 
 hazards and costs to all others (even the party already injured) 
 and amongst others, to himself, is the highest and most unques- 
 tioned of his duties. And he must not regard the alarm, the 
 suffering, the torment, the destruction, which it may. bring 
 upon any others. Nay, separating even the duties of a patriot 
 from those of an advocate, he must go on, reckless of the con- 
 sequences, if his fate should unhappily be to involve his country 
 in confusion, for his client/ [Licence of Counsel, p. 3.] 
 
 On the other hand, it is recorded that ' Sir Matthew Hale, 
 whenever he was convinced of the injustice of any cause, would 
 engage no more in it than to explain to his client the grounds 
 of that conviction ; he abhorred the practice of misreciting 
 evidence, quoting precedents in books falsely or unfairly, so as 
 to deceive ignorant juries or inattentive judges ; and he adhered 
 to the same scrupulous sincerity in his pleadings which he 
 observed in the other transactions of life. It was as great a 
 dishonour as a man was capable of, that for a little money he 
 was hired to say otherwise than he thought/ [Licence of 
 Counsel, p. 4.] 
 
 1 ' Lecture on the Intellectual and Moral Influences of the Professions,' reprinted 
 in the Elements of Rhetoric.
 
 584 Of Judicature. [Essay Ivi. 
 
 ' The advocate/ says another eminent legal writer, ' observ- 
 ing in an honest witness a deponent whose testimony promises 
 to be adverse, assumes terrific tones and deportment, and pre- 
 tending to find dishonesty on the part of the witness, strives 
 to give his testimony the appearance of it. I say a bond fide 
 witness ; for in the case of a witness who, by an adverse inter- 
 rogator, is really looked upon as dishonest, this is not the 
 proper course, nor is it taken with him. For bringing to light 
 the falsehood of a witness really believed to be mendacious, the 
 more suitable, or rather the only suitable course is to forbear 
 to express the impression he has inspired. Supposing his tale 
 clear of suspicion, the witness runs on his course with fluency 
 till he is entangled in some irretrievable contradiction, at 
 variance with other parts of his own story, or with facts noto- 
 rious in themselves, or established by proofs from other sources.' 
 [Licence of Counsel, p. 5.] 
 
 ' We happen to be aware, from the practice of persons of the 
 highest experience in the examinations of witnesses, that this 
 description is almost without exception correct, and that, as a 
 general rule, it is only the honest and timid witness who is 
 confounded by imperious deportment. The practice gives pre- 
 eminence to the unscrupulous witness who can withstand such 
 assaults. Roger North, in his life of Sir Dudley North, 
 relates that the law of Turkey, like our absurd law of evidence 
 in some cases, required the testimony of two witnesses in proof 
 of each fact ; and that a practice had in consequence arisen, and 
 had obtained the sanction of general opinion, of using a false 
 witness in proof of those facts which admitted of only one 
 witness. Sir Dudley North, while in Turkey, had numerous 
 disputes which it became necessary to settle by litigation, 
 1 and/ says his biographer, ' our merchant found by experience, 
 that in a direct fact a false witness was a surer card than a true 
 one ; for if the judge has a mind to baffle a testimony, an honest, 
 harmless witness, that doth not know his play, cannot so well 
 stand his many captious questions, as a false witness, used to the 
 trade, will do ; for he hath been exercised, and is prepared for 
 such handling, and can clear himself, when the other will be 
 confounded : therefore circumstances may be such as to make 
 the false one more eligible/ 
 
 According to one, then, of the writers I have cited, an
 
 Essay Ivi.] Annotation. 585 
 
 advocate is justified, and is fulfilling a duty, not only in pro- 
 testing with solemnity his own full conviction of the justice of 
 his client's cause, though he may feel no such conviction, not 
 only in feigning various emotions (like an actor ; except that 
 the actor's credit consists in its being known that he is only 
 feigning), such as pity, indignation, moral approbation, or 
 disgust, or contempt, when he neither feels anything of the 
 kind, nor believes the case to be one that justly calls for such 
 feelings ; but he is also occasionally to entrap or mislead, to 
 revile, insult, and calumniate persons whom he may in his heart 
 believe to be respectable persons and honest witnesses. Another 
 on the contrary observes : ' We might ask our learned friend 
 and fellow-Christian, as well as the learned and noble editor of 
 Paley's Natural Theology, and his other fellow-professors of the 
 religion which says ' that lying lips are an abomination to the 
 Lord/ to explain to us how they reconcile the practice under 
 their rule, with the Christian precepts, or avoid the solemn 
 scriptural denunciation ' Woe unto them that call evil good, 
 and good evil ; that put darkness for light, and light for dark- 
 ness ; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter ; . . which 
 justify the wicked for reward, and take away the righteousness 
 of the righteous from him." [Licence of Counsel, p. 10.]. 
 
 Of the necessity and allowableness of the practices upon 
 which these opposite legal opinions have been given, I leave 
 every one to judge for himself. For my own part, I think that 
 the kind of skill by which a cross-examiner succeeds in alarm- 
 ing, misleading, or bewildering an honest witness, may be cha- 
 racterized as the most, or one of the most, base and depraved 
 of all possible employments of intellectual power. Nor is it 
 by any means the most effectual way of eliciting truth. The 
 mode best adapted for attaining this object is, I am convinced, 
 quite different from that by which an honest, simple-minded 
 witness is most easily baffled and confused. I have seen the 
 experiment tried, of subjecting a witness to such a kind of cross- 
 examination by a practical lawyer as would have been, I am 
 convinced, the most likely to alarm and perplex many an honest 
 witness; and all, without any effect in shaking the testimony; and 
 afterwards by a totally opposite mode of examination, such as 
 would not have at all perplexed one who was honestly telling the 
 truth, that same witness was drawn on, step by step, to acknow-
 
 Of Judicature. [Essay Ivi. 
 
 ledge the utter falsity of the whole. Generally speaking, a quiet, 
 gentle, and straightforward, though full and careful, examination, 
 will be the most adapted to elicit truth ; and the manoeuvres, 
 and the browbeating, which are the most adapted to confuse 
 an honest, simple-minded witness, are just what the dishonest 
 one is the best prepared for. The more the storm blusters, the 
 more carefully he wraps round him the cloak, which a warm 
 sunshine will often induce him to throw off. 
 
 I will add one remark upon the danger incurred by the 
 advocate even if he be one who would scruple either wilfully 
 to use sophistry to mislead a judge, or to perplex and browbeat 
 an honest witness of having his mind alienated from the 
 investigation of truth. Bishop Butler observes, and laments, 
 that it is very common for men to have ' a curiosity to know 
 what is said, but no curiosity to know what is true.' Now, 
 none can be (other points being equal) more in need of being 
 put on his guard against this fault than he who is professionally 
 occupied with a multitude of cases, in each of which he is to 
 consider what may be plausibly urged on both sides ; while the 
 question what ought to be the decision is out of his province as 
 a pleader. I am supposing him not to be seeking to mislead 
 by urging fallacious arguments ; but there will often be sound 
 and valid arguments real probabilities on opposite sides. A 
 Judge, or any one whose business it is to ascertain truth, is to 
 decide according to the preponderance of the reasons ; but the 
 pleader's business is merely to set forth as forcibly as possible 
 those on his own side. And if he thinks that the habitual 
 practice of this has no tendency to generate in him, morally, 
 any indifference, or, intellectually, any incompetency, in respect 
 of the ascertainment of truth, if he consider himself quite safe 
 from any such danger, I should then say that he is in very 
 great danger.
 
 ESSAY LVII. OF ANGEE. 
 
 TO seek to extinguish anger utterly is but a bravery 1 of the 
 Stoics. We have better oracles : ' Be angry, but sin not ; 
 let not the sun go down upon your anger/ 2 Anger must be 
 limited and confined, both in place and in time. We will first 
 speak how the natural inclination and habit ' to be angry/ may 
 be attempered 3 and calmed; secondly, how the particular 
 motions of anger may be repressed, or, at least, refrained 4 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 rain, which breaks itself upon that it falls/ 5 The Scrip, 
 ture exhorteth us ' to possess our souls in patience :' 6 whosoever 
 is out of patience, is out of possession of his soul. Men. must 
 
 not turn bees : 
 
 'Animasque in vulnere ponunt.' 7 
 
 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. 
 
 1 Bravery. 'Bravado. ' One Tait, who was then of the Lord's party, came 
 forth in a bravery, asking if any had courage to break a lance for his mistress.' 
 Spottiswode. 
 
 2 Ephes. iv. 26. 
 
 3 Attemper. To temper ; soften. 
 
 ' Those smiling eyes, attempting every ray.' Pope. 
 
 4 Refrain. To restrain. 
 
 ' I refrain my lips. 
 I refrain my soul and keep it low.' 
 
 5 Sen. De Ira, i. I. 6 Luke xxi. 19. 
 7 ' And leave their lives in the wound.' Virg. Georg. iv. 238.
 
 588 Of Anger. [Essay Ivii. 
 
 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 1 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 con- 
 tempt 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 2 
 of a man's reputation doth multiply and sharpen anger, wherein 
 the remedy is, that a man should have, as Gonsalvo was wont 
 to say, ' telam honoris crassiorem.' 3 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 
 mean time, and reserve it. 
 
 To contain 4 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 5 and proper; 6 for ' communia maledicta' 7 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 8 you show bitterness, do not act anything 
 that is not revocable. 
 
 For raising and appeasing anger in another, it is done chiefly 
 
 1 Oft. Often. See page 377. 
 
 2 Touch. Censure. ' I never bare any touch of conscience with greater regret.' 
 King Charles. 
 
 8 ' A thicker web of honour.' A. L. II. xx. 12. 
 * Contain. To restrain. 
 
 ' Fear not, my lord, we can contain ourselves.' Shakespere. 
 
 5 Aculeate. Pointed ; sharp ; stinging. 
 
 6 Proper. Appropriate. 
 
 ' In Athens all was pleasure, mirth, and play, 
 All proper to the Spring and sprightly May.' Dryden. 
 ' ' General reproaches.' 
 
 8 Howsoever. However. 'Berosua, who, after Moses, was one of the most 
 ancient, howsoever he has since been corrupted, doth in the substance of all agree.' 
 Baletffh.
 
 Essay Ivii.] Annotation. 589 
 
 by chusing of times when men are frowardest and worst dis- 
 posed 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 1 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. 
 
 ANNOTATION. 
 
 Aristotle, in his Rhetoric (book ii. chap. 2) a work with 
 which Bacon seems to have been little, if at all, acquainted 
 defines anger to be ' a desire, accompanied by mental 
 uneasiness, of avenging oneself, or, as it were, inflicting 
 punishment for something that appears an unbecoming slight, 
 in things which concern either one's self, or some of one's 
 friends/ And he hence infers that, if this be anger, it must 
 be invariably felt towards some individual, not against a class 
 or description of persons. And he afterwards grounds upon this 
 definition a distinction between anger and hatred; between 
 which, he says, there are several points of comparison. Anger 
 arises out of something having a personal reference to ourselves ; 
 whereas hatred is independent of such considerations, since it is 
 borne towards a person, merely on account of the believing him 
 to be of a certain description or character. In the next place, 
 anger is accompanied by pain ; hatred is not so. Again, anger 
 would be satisfied to inflict some pain on its object, but hatred 
 desires nothing short of deadly harm ; the angry man desires 
 that the pain he inflicts should be known to come from him ; 
 but hatred cares not for this. Again, the feeling of auger is 
 softened by time, but hatred is incurable. Once more, the 
 angry man might be induced to pity the object of his anger, if 
 many misfortunes befel him ; but he who feels hatred cannot 
 
 1 Angry. Provoking anger. 
 
 ' That was to him an angry jape (trick).' Shakespere.
 
 59 
 
 Of Anger. [Essay Ivii. 
 
 be thus moved to pity, for he desires the destruction of the 
 object of his hatred. 1 
 
 Adam Smith, in his Theory of Moral Sentiments, seems to 
 consider as the chief point of distinction (and this, too, is 
 noticed by Aristotle also) between anger and hatred, the neces- 
 sity to the gratification of the former that the object of it 
 should not only be punished, but punished by means of the 
 offended person, and on account of the particular injury 
 inflicted. Anger requires ' that the offender should not only 
 be made to grieve in his turn, but to grieve for that particular 
 wrong which has been done by him. The natural gratification 
 of this passion tends, of its own accord, to produce all the 
 political ends of punishment; the correction of the criminal, 
 and example to the Public." 
 
 It is to be observed, that in seeking to pacify one who is 
 angry, opposite courses must be pursued with persons of two 
 opposite dispositions. 
 
 One man is at once calmed by submission, and readily 
 accepts an apology. Another is more and more irritated the 
 more you acknowledge a fault, and is led, by the earnestness of 
 your entreaty for pardon, to think himself more grievously 
 wronged than he had at first supposed. The former has some- 
 thing of the character of the dog, which will never bite a man, 
 or another dog, who lies down. And he will sometimes come 
 to convince himself that he had no reason to be so angry, 
 unless you deny that he had. The other can only be pacified 
 by stoutly defending yourself, and maintaining that he was 
 wrong to be displeased. These persons resemble respectively 
 the thistle and the nettle ; of which the one hurts most when 
 pressed hard, and the other, when touched gently. 
 
 There is a kind of false courage noticed by Aristotle (Ethics, 
 book iii.) produced by Anger [Stytoc], which he calls the courage 
 of brutes. Savages accordingly work themselves up into a 
 rage by their war-dance, preparatory to going into battle ; just 
 as the lion was believed by the ancients to lash himself into 
 fury with his tail. And one may find not a few, in civilized 
 
 1 Aristotle's Rhetoric. Book II., chap. iv. 
 
 "Adam Smith. Theory of Moral ^Sentiments. Part II., chap. i. p. 113. 
 Eleventh edition.
 
 Essay Ivii.] Annotation. 
 
 society, who are brave only under the excitement of anger. 
 But it is cool courage that is the most to be relied on. The 
 firmest men are almost always calm. 
 
 A man of violent and revengeful temper will sometimes 
 exercise great self-control from motives of prudence, when he 
 sees that he could not vent his resentment without danger or loss 
 to himself. Such self-restraint as this does not at all tend to 
 subdue or soften his fierce and malignant passions, and to 
 make him a mild arid placable character. It only keeps the fire 
 smouldering within, instead of bursting out into a flame. He 
 is not quelling the desire of revenge, but only repressing it till 
 he shall have an opportunity of indulging it more safely and 
 effectually. And, accordingly, he will have to exercise the same 
 painful self-restraint again and again on every fresh occasion. 
 But to exert an equal self-restraint, on a good principle, 
 with a sincere and earnest desire to subdue revengeful feelings, 
 and to form a mild, and generous, and forgiving temper, this 
 will produce quite a different result. A man who acts thus oh 
 a right motive, will find his task easier and easier on each oc- 
 casion ; because he will become less sensitive to provocations, 
 and will have been forming a habit of not merely avoiding any 
 outward expression of anger in words or acts, but also of 
 indulging no resentful feelings within. 
 
 It is to be observed, that generous forgiveness of injuries is 
 a point of Christian duty respecting which some people fall 
 into confusion of thought. They confound together personal 
 resentment, and disapprobation of what is morally wrong. As 
 was remarked above (Essay IV.) , a man who has cheated you, or 
 slandered, or otherwise wronged you, is neither more nor less a 
 cheat or a slanderer, than if he had done the same to a stranger. 
 And in that light he ought to be viewed. Such a person is one 
 on whom you should not indeed wish to inflict any suffering 
 beyond what may be necessary to reform him, and to deter other 
 wrong-doers ; and you should seek to benefit him in the highest 
 degree by bringing him to a sense of his sin. But you ought 
 not to chuse such a man as an associate, or to trust him, and in 
 all respects treat him as if he had done nothing wrong. You 
 should therefore take care, on the one hand, that the personal
 
 Of Anger. [Essay Ivii. 
 
 injury you may have suffered does not lead you to think worse 
 of a man than he deserves, or to treat him worse ; and, on the 
 other hand, you should not allow a false generosity to destroy 
 in your mind the distinctions of right and wrong. Nor, again, 
 should the desire of gaining credit for magnanimity, lead you to 
 pretend to think favourably of wrong conduct, merely because 
 it is you that have suffered from it. None but thoughtless or 
 misjudging people will applaud you for this. The duty of 
 Christian forgiveness does not require you, nor are you allowed, 
 to look on injustice, or any other fault, with indifference, as if 
 it were nothing wrong at all, merely because it is you that have 
 been wronged. 
 
 But even where we cannot but censure, in a moral point of 
 view, the conduct of those who have injured us, we should 
 remember that such treatment as may be very fitting for them 
 to receive, may be very unfitting for us to give. To cherish, or 
 to gratify, haughty resentment, is a departure from the pattern 
 left us by Him who 'endured such contradiction of sinners against 
 Himself/ and is not to be justified by any offence that can be 
 committed against us. And it is this recollection of Him who, 
 faultless Himself, deigned to leave us an example of meekness 
 and long-suffering, that is the true principle and motive of 
 Christian forgiveness. We shall best fortify our patience under 
 injuries, by remembering how much we ourselves have to be 
 forgiven, and that it was ' while we were yet sinners, Christ 
 died for us/ Let the Christian therefore accustom himself 
 to say of any one who has greatly wronged him, * that man 
 owes me an hundred pence ; n while / hope to be pardoned a debt 
 of ' ten thousand talents/ 
 
 An old Spanish writer says, ' To return evil for good is 
 devilish ; to return good for good is human ; but to return good 
 for evil is godlike/ 
 
 1 Matt, xviii.
 
 ESSAY LYIII. OF VICISSITUDES OF THINGS. 
 
 Q OLOMON saith, ' There is no new thing upon the earth :' l 
 O so that as Plato had an imagination that all knowledge was 
 but remembrance, 2 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 at 
 like distance one from another, and never come nearer together, 
 nor go farther asunder ; the other, that the diurnal motion per- 
 petually keepeth time), no individual would last one moment/ 
 Certain it is that matter is in a perpetual flux, 3 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 4 dispeople 5 or destroy. 
 Phaeton's car went but a day ; and the three years' drought, 
 in the time of Elias, 6 was but particular, arid left people alive. 
 As for the great burnings by lightnings, which are often in the 
 "West Indies, 7 they are but narrow ; but in the other two de- 
 structions, by deluge and earthquake, it is farther to be noted, 
 that the remnant of people which hap 8 to be reserved, are com- 
 monly 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 
 
 1 Eccles. i. p. 
 
 3 See Advancement of Learning. Dedication. 
 
 3 Flux. Fluctuation. ' Our language, like our bodies, is in a perpetual jtfwa;.' 
 Felton. 
 
 4 Merely. Completely. In the Latin it is penitus. See Essay xxix. 
 * Dispeople. Depopulate. 
 
 ' Kings, furious and severe, 
 
 Who claimed the skies, dispeopled air and floods, 
 The lonely lords of empty wilds and woods.' Pope. 
 
 6 I Kings xvii. 
 
 7 West Indies. ' In Bacon's time iyas meant by West Indies all the countries 
 included under the name of the Spanish Main : that is, all the continental parts of 
 America discovered by the Spaniards, or the countries which now form Venezuela, 
 New Granada, Central America, Peru, &c.' Spiers. 
 
 8 Hap. Happen. ' To brandish the tongue wantonly, to slash and smite with 
 it any that Tiappeth to come in our way, doth argue malice or madness.' Sorrow. 
 
 Q Q
 
 594 Of Vicissitudes of Things. [Essay Iviii. 
 
 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, 1 that it was swallowed 
 by an earthquake), but rather, that it was desolated by a par- 
 ticular 2 deluge for earthquakes are seldom in those parts : but, 
 on the other side, they have such pouring rivers, as 3 the rivers 
 of Asia, and Africa, and Europe, are but brooks to them. Their 
 Andes likewise, or mountains, are far higher than those with 
 us ; whereby it seems, that the remnants of generations of men 
 were in such a particular -deluge saved. As for the observation 
 that Machiavel 4 hath, that the jealousy of sects doth much ex- 
 tinguish the memory of things traducing 5 Gregory the Great, 
 that he did what in him lay to extinguish all heathen antiqui- 
 ties I do not find that those zeals 6 do any great effects, nor 
 last long; as it appeared in the succession of Sabinian, who 
 did revive the former antiquities. 
 
 The vicissitudes, or mutations, in the superior globe, are no 
 fit matter for this present argument. 7 It may be, Plato's great 
 year, 8 if the world should last so long, would have some effect, 
 not in renewing the state of like individuals (for that is the 
 fume 9 of those that conceive the celestial bodies have more 
 accurate influences upon these things below, than indeed they 
 have), but in gross. 10 Comets, out of question, have likewise 
 
 1 Vid. Plat. Tim, iii. 24, seq. 
 
 z Particular. Partial ; not general. 
 
 3 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 4 Mach. Disc. Sop. liv. ii. 5. 
 
 5 Traduce. To condemn ; to censure, whether justly or unjustly. (Now, to 
 calumniate, to slander.) 
 
 fi Zeals. (Not now used in the plural.) 
 
 7 Argument. Subject. 
 
 ' She who even but now was your best object, 
 Your praise's argument, balm of your age, 
 Dearest and best.' Shakespere. 
 
 8 Plat. Tim. iii. 38, seq. 
 
 9 Fume. Idle conceit ; vain imagination. ' If his sorrow bring forth amend- 
 ment, he hath the grace of hope, though it be clouded over with a melancholy 
 fume.' Hammond. 
 
 10 Gross. On the whole. ' The confession of our sins to God may be general, 
 when we only confess in gross that we are sinful ; or particular, when we mention 
 the several sorts and acts of our sins.' Duty of Man.
 
 Essay Iviii.] Of Vicissitudes of Things. 595 
 
 power and effect over the gross 1 and mass of things; but they 
 are rather gazed upon, and waited upon 2 in their journey, than 
 wisely observed in their effects, especially in their respective 
 effects; that is, what kind of comet, for magnitude, colour, 
 version 3 of the beams, placing in the region of heaven or last- 
 ing, 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 sute 4 of years and 
 weathers comes 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 men- 
 tion, because, computing backwards, I have found some concur- 
 rence. 
 
 But to leave these points of nature, and to come to men. 
 The greatest vicissitude of things amongst men, is the vicissi- 
 tude of sects and religions ; for these 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 5 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 6 the times be stupid, ignorant, and 
 barbarous, you may doubt 7 the springing up of a new sect ; if 
 
 1 Gross. The chief part ; the main body. ' The gross of the people can have 
 no other prospect in changes and revolutions than of public blessings.' Addison. 
 
 2 Waited upon. Watched. See page 238. 
 
 3 Version. Direction. 
 
 4 Sute or suit. Order ; correspondence. ' Touching matters belonging to the 
 Church of Christ, this we conceive that they are not of one sute.' Hooker. For 
 our expression ' out of sorts/ Shakespere has ' out of sutes.' 
 
 5 Stay. Check. 
 
 ' With prudent stay he long deferred 
 The fierce contention/ Philips. 
 
 6 Withal. Likewise ; besides. 
 
 ' God, when He gave me strength, to shew withal 
 How slight the gift was, hung it in my hair.' Milton. 
 
 1 Doubt. To fear; to apprehend. 'This is enough for a project without any 
 name. I doubt more than will be reduced into practice.' Swift. 
 
 Q Q 2
 
 Of Vicissitudes of Things. [Essay Iviii. 
 
 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 pro- 
 perties, fear it not, for it will not spread : the one is the sup- 
 plauting, or the opposing of authority established for nothing 
 is more popular than that; the other is the giving licence to 
 pleasures and a voluptuous life : for as for speculative heresies 
 (such as were in ancient times the Arians, and now the Armi- 
 nians), though they work mightily upon men's wits, they do not 
 produce any great alteration in States, except it be by the help 
 of civil occasions. There be three manner of plantations of 
 new sects by the power of signs and miracles ; 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 dif- 
 ferences; to proceed mildly, and not with sanguinary persecu- 
 tions ; and rather to take off the principal authors, by winning 
 and advancing them, than to enrage them by violence and 
 bitterness. 
 
 The changes and vicissitudes in wars are many, but chiefly 
 in three things; in the seats or stages of the war, in the 
 weapons, and in the manner of the conduct. Wars, in 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-Grsecia, 
 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 1 
 whereby it is manifest that the northern track 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 
 
 Contrariwise. On the contrary. See page 102.
 
 Essay Iviii.] Of Vicissitudes of Things. 597 
 
 almost all sea ; or (which is most apparent) of the cold of the 
 northern parts, which is that, which, without aid of discipline, 
 doth make the bodies hardest, and the courage warmest. 
 
 Upon the breaking and shivering of a great State and empire, 
 you may be sure to have wars ; for great empires, while they 
 stand, 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 it was in the decay of the Roman empire, and like- 
 wise in the empire of Almaigne, 1 after Charles the Great, every 
 bird taking a feather, and were not unlike to befall to 2 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 people, 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 popu- 
 late, without foreseeing means of life and sustentation, 3 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 Avere wont to do by lot casting lots what part should 
 stay at home, and what should seek their fortunes. When a 
 warlike State grows soft and effeminate, they may be sure of a 
 war; for commonly such States are grown rich in the time of 
 their degenerating, and so the prey inviteth, and their decay in 
 valour encourageth a war. 
 
 As for the weapons, it hardly falleth under rule and observa- 
 tion ; yet we see even they have returns and vicissitudes ; for 
 
 1 Almaigne. Germany. 
 
 3 
 
 ' Then I stoutly won in fight 
 The Emperour's daughter of Almaigne' Sir Guy of Warwick. 
 
 2 Befall to (unusual with to). To happen. 
 
 ' Some great mischief hath befallen 
 To that meek man.' Milton. 
 
 3 Sustentation. Support. ' He (Malcolm) assigned certain rents for the svs- 
 lentation of the canons he had placed there of the order of St. Augustine.' 
 Holinshed.
 
 598 Of Vicissitudes of Things. [Essay Iviii. 
 
 certain it is, that ordnance was known in the city of the Oxy- 
 draces in India, and was that which the Macedonians called 
 thunder, and lightning, and magic, and it is well known that 
 the use of ordnance hath been in China above two thousand 
 years. The conditions of weapons and their improvements are, 
 first, the fetching ' afar off, for that outruns the danger, as it is 
 seen in ordnance and muskets ; secondly, the strength of the 
 percussion, wherein likewise ordnance do exceed all arietations 2 
 and ancient inventions ; the third is, the commodious use of 
 them, as that they may serve in all weathers, that the carriage 
 may be light and manageable, and the like. 
 
 For the conduct of the war : at the first men rested extremely 
 upon number; they did put the wars likewise upon main force 
 and valour, pointing 3 days for pitched fields, 4 and so trying it 
 out upon an even match, and they were more ignorant in 
 ranging and arraying their battles. 6 After, they grew to rest 
 upon number rather competent than vast, they grew to advan- 
 tages 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 nourish, 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 merchandise. 
 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 ; 6 and, 
 lastly, his 7 old age, when it waxeth dry and exhaust. 8 But it is 
 not good to look too long upon these turning wheels of vicissi- 
 tude, lest we become giddy. As for the philology of them, that 
 is but a circle of tales, and therefore not fit for this writing. 
 
 1 Fetch. To strike from a distance. 
 
 2 Arietation. The use of battering-rams. 
 
 3 Point. To appoint. See page 462. 
 
 4 Fields. Eattles. 
 
 'And whilst afield should bedispatch'd and fought, 
 You are disputing of your generals.' Shakespere. 
 8 Battles. Forces. 
 
 ' What may the king's whole battle reach unto ?' Shakespere. 
 
 6 Reduced. Subjected (to rule). ' The Romans reduced Spain, Gaul, and 
 Britain by their arms.' Ogilvie. 
 J His. Its. See page 421. 
 * Exhaust. Exhausted. See page 96.
 
 Essay Iviii.] Annotation. 599 
 
 ANNOTATION. 
 
 ' Speculative Heresies, such as the Arminians.' 
 
 Bacon very coolly sets down the Arminians as Heretics, 
 though never so pronounced by our Church. But they were 
 cruelly persecuted by fellow-Protestants in Holland ; and their 
 tenets probably misrepresented; as they are by some at this 
 day. And hence probably he took for granted without inquiry 
 that they must have taught something very shocking.
 
 A FRAGMENT OF AN ESSAY ON 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 
 day -time 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 anger brought forth Fame ; for certain it is that 
 rebels, figured by the giants, and seditious fames 1 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 2 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 4 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 there- 
 fore speak of these points ; what are false fames, and what are 
 true fames, and how they may be best discerned, 5 how fames 
 may be sown and raised, how they may be spread and multi- 
 plied, and how they may be checked and laid dead, and other 
 
 'Fames. Report s; rumours. See page 151. 
 
 2 Fly. To fly at ; to attack. 
 
 ' Fly everything you see, and censure it freely.' Sen Jonson. 
 
 3 Ravening. Predatory ; rapacious. ' As a ravening and roaring lion.' 
 Ps. xxii. 13. < Sad. Grave. 
 
 ' A sad, wise valour is the crave complexion 
 
 That leads the van.' Herbert. 
 
 * Discerned. Distinguished. ' Then shalt thou return, and discern between 
 the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that scrveth 
 Him not.' Mai. iii. 18.
 
 A fragment of an Essay on Fame. 60 1 
 
 things concerning the nature of fame. Fame is of that force, 
 as 1 there is scarcely any great action whei'ein it hath not a 
 great part, especially in the war. Mucianus undid 2 Vitellius 
 by a fame that he scattered, that Vitellius had in purpose to 
 move the legions of Syria into Germany, and the legions of 
 Germany into Syria ; \vhereupon the legions of Syria were in- 
 finitely inflamed. 3 Julius Caesar took Pompey unprovided, and 
 laid asleep Jiis industry and preparations by a fame that he 
 cunningly gave out, how 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. 4 Livia 
 settled all things for the succession of her sou Tiberius, by con- 
 tinually giving out that her husband Augustus was upon recovery 
 and amendment ; and it is a usual thing with the bashaws 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 6 out of Grecia, 7 by giving out that the 
 Grecians had a purpose to break his bridge of ships which he 
 had made athwart 8 the Hellespont. 9 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 ; 
 wherefore, let all wise governors have as great a watch and 
 care over fames, as they have of the actions and designs them- 
 selves. 
 
 1 As. That. See page 26. 
 
 2 Undid. Ruined. (Not so frequently used in this sense as are the other tenses 
 of the verb ' to uudo.') 
 
 ' Where, with like haste, through several ways they run, 
 Some to undo, and some to be undone.' Deriham. 
 
 3 Tacit. Hist. ii. 80. 4 Cues, de Sell. Civ. i. 6. 
 Tacit. Ann. i. 5. 
 
 6 Apace. Speedily. 
 
 'Ay, quoth my uncle Glo'ster, 
 
 Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace; 
 And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast, 
 Because sweet flowers are slow, and weeds make haste.' Shakespere. 
 
 ~ Grecia. Greece. ' Through his riches he shall stir up all against the realm 
 of Grecia.' Dan. xi. 2. 
 3 Athwart. Across. 
 
 ' Execrable Shape ! 
 
 That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance 
 Thy miscreated front athwart, my way.' Milton. 
 
 9 Vid. Serod. viii. 108, 109.
 
 6o2 A Fragment of an Essay on Fame. 
 
 ANNOTATIONS. 
 
 [This Essay is reckoned a fragment, as it is supposed Bacon must have written 
 much more on the subject: but it is complete as far as it goes ; and there are 
 many of the other Essays that would have borne to be much enlarged.] 
 
 ' Fame is of that force as there is scarcely any great action 
 wherein it hath not a great party as .... a man 
 meeteth with them everywhere. 3 
 
 By ' fame/ Bacon means what we call ' report/ or ' rumour/ 
 or the French on dit. 
 
 One remarkable instance of the effects produced by rumours 
 might be added to those Bacon mentions. When Buonaparte's 
 return from Elba was plotted, his partisans went all about 
 France, pretending to seek to purchase land ; and when in 
 treaty for a field, and seemingly about to close the bargain, they 
 inquired about the title ; and when they found, as they generally 
 did, that it was land which had been confiscated at the Revolu- 
 tion, they broke off at once, declaring that the title was inse- 
 cure: thus spreading throughout France the notion that the 
 Bourbons meditated the resumption of all those lands the chief 
 part of France to restore them to the former owners. And 
 thus, most of the proprietors were eager for their downfall. 
 
 Some remarks on political predictions, already made in my 
 notes on the Essay ' Of Prophecies/ might come in under this 
 head. 
 
 * Let all wise governors have as great a watch and care over 
 fames as they have of the actions and designs themselves' 
 
 The necessity of this watchfulness from the effects produced 
 by them seems to have been recognised at a very early period 
 iu our legislative history. We have before noticed a statute 
 respecting them made in the reign of Edward the First. It 
 enacts that ' forasmuch as there have been oftentimes found in 
 the country Devisors of Tales, whereby discord [or occasion] of 
 discord hath arisen many times between the King and his 
 people, or great men of this realm ; for the damage that hath
 
 Annotations. 603 
 
 and may thereof ensue ; it is commanded, that from henceforth 
 none be so hardy to tell or publish any false news or tales, 
 whereby discord, or [matter] of discord or slander may grow 
 between the King and his people, or the great men of the 
 realm ; and he that doth so shall be taken and kept in prison, 
 until he hath brought him into the Court which was the first 
 which did speak the same/ 3 Edw. I. Slat. Westmonast. i, 
 c. xxxiv. 
 
 The framing and circulating of ' politic fames' might have 
 been set down by Bacon as one of the points of cunning.
 
 THE PRAISE OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 O ILENCE were the best celebration of that which I mean to 
 O commend ; for who would not use silence, where silence is 
 not made ? and what crier can make silence in such a noise and 
 tumult of vain and popular opinions ? My praise shall be 
 dedicated to the mind itself. The mind is the man, and the 
 knowledge of the mind. A man is but what he knoweth. The 
 mind itself is but an accident to knowledge, for knowledge is 
 a double of that which is. The truth of being, and the truth of 
 knowing, is all one ; and the pleasures of the affections greater 
 than the pleasures of the senses. And are not the pleasures of the 
 intellect greater than the pleasures of the affections ? Is it not 
 a true and only natural pleasure, whereof there is no satiety ? 
 Is it not knowledge that doth alone clear the mind of all per- 
 turbations ? How many things are there which we imagine not ! 
 How many things do we esteem and value otherwise than they 
 are ! This ill-proportioned estimation, these vain imaginations, 
 these be the clouds of error that turn into the storms of pertur- 
 bation. Is there any such happiness as for a man's mind to be 
 raised above the confusion of things, where he may have the 
 prospect of the order of nature, and the error of men ? Is this 
 but a vein only of delight, and not of discovery ? of content- 
 ment and not of benefit? Shall we not as well discern the 
 riches of nature's warehouse as the benefit of her shop? Is 
 truth ever barren ? Shall we not be able thereby to produce 
 worthy effects, and to endow the life of man with infinite com- 
 modities? But shall I make this garland to be put upon a 
 wrong head ? Would anybody believe me if I should verify 
 this, upon the knowledge that is now in use ? Are we the richer 
 by one poor invention, by reason of all the learning that hath 
 been these many hundred years? The industry of artificers 
 maketh some small improvement of things invented ; and chance 
 sometimes, in experimenting, 1 maketh us to stumble upon some- 
 
 1 Experimenting. To make experiments. ' Francisco Redi, by experimenting 
 found that . . . .' Bay.
 
 The Praise of Knowledge. 605 
 
 what which is new ; but all the disputation of the learned never 
 brought to light one effect of nature before unknown. When 
 things are known and found out, then they can descant upon 
 them, they can knit them into certain causes, they can reduce 
 them to their principles. If any instance of experience stand 
 against them, they can range it in order by some distinctions. 
 But all this is but a web of the wit; 1 it can work nothing. I 
 do not doubt but that common notions, which we call reason, 
 and the knitting of them together, which we call logic, are the 
 art of reason and studies. But they rather cast obscurity, than 
 gain light to 2 the contemplation of nature. 
 
 All the philosophy of nature which is now received, is either 
 the philosophy of the Grecians, or that of the alchemists. That 
 of the Grecians hath the foundations in words, in ostentation, 
 in confutation, in sects, in schools, in disputations. The Gre- 
 cians were, as one of themselves saith, you Grecians, ever 
 children? They knew little antiquity; they knew, except 
 fables, not much above five hundred years before themselves. 
 They knew but a small portion of the world. That of the 
 alchemists hath the foundation in imposture, in auricular tradi- 
 tions and obscurity. It was catching hold of religion, but the 
 principle of it is, Populus vult decipi* So that I know no 
 great difference between these great philosophers, but that the 
 one is a loud crying folly, and the other is a whispering folly. 
 The one is gathered out of a few vulgar observations, and the 
 other out of a few experiments of a furnace. The one never 
 faileth to multiply words, and the other ever faileth to multiply 
 gold. Who would not smile at Aristotle, when he admireth 
 the eternity and invariableness of the heavens, as there were 
 not the like in the bowels of the earth ? Those be the confines 
 and borders of these two kingdoms, where the continual altera- 
 tion and incursion are* The superficies and upper parts of the 
 earth are full of varieties. The superficies and lower parts of 
 the heavens, which we call the middle region of the air, are full 
 of variety. There is much spirit iu the one part that cannot 
 be brought into mass. There is much massy body in the other 
 
 1 Wit. Intellect. ' Will puts in practice what the wit devu>eth.' Davies. 
 1 To. For. See page 261. 
 
 3 Plato. See Adcancement of Learning, book i. 
 
 4 The people wish to be deceived.
 
 606 The Praise of Knowledge. 
 
 place that cannot be refined to spirit. The common air is as 
 the waste ground between the borders. Who would not smile 
 at the astronomers, I mean not these few carmen which drive 
 the earth about, 1 but the ancient astronomers, which feign the 
 moon to be the swiftest of the planets in motion, and the rest 
 in order, the higher the slower; and so are compelled to ima- 
 gine a double motion; whereas how evident is it, that that 
 which they call a contrary motion, is but an abatement of 
 motion? The fixed stars overgo 2 Saturn, and so in them and 
 the rest, all is but one motion, and the nearer the earth the 
 slower a motion also whereof air and water do participate, 
 though much interrupted. 
 
 But why do 1 in a conference of pleasure enter into these 
 great matters, in sort 3 that pretending to know much, I 
 should forget what is seasonable? Pardon me, it was because 
 all things may be endowed and adorned with speeches, but 
 knowledge itself is more beautiful than any apparel of words 
 that can be put upon it. And let not me seem arrogant 
 without respect to these great reputed authors. Let me so 
 give every man his due, as I give time his due, which is 
 to discover truth. Many of these men had greater wits, 
 far above mine own, and so are many in the universities of 
 Europe at this day. But, alas ! they learn nothing there 
 but to believe; first to believe that others know that which 
 they know not; and after, themselves know that which they 
 know not. But, indeed, facility to believe, impatience to doubt, 
 temerity to answer, glory to know, doubt to contradict, end to 
 gain, sloth to search, seeking things in words, resting in part of 
 nature ; these, and the like, have been the things which have 
 forbidden the happy match between the mind of Man and the 
 nature of things, and in place thereof have married it to vain 
 
 1 Probably a sneer at Copernicus. His disparagement of him, I have alluded 
 to in the preface. 
 
 3 Overgo. To past over. 
 
 ' How many weary steps 
 Of many weary miles you have o'ergone, 
 Are numbered in the travel of one mile.' Shakespere. 
 
 J In sort. In such a manner. ' Flowers worn in such sort can neither be seen 
 well, nor smelt by those that wear them/ Hooker. 
 
 ' Let's on our way in silent sort.' Shakespere.
 
 The Praise of Knowledge. 607 
 
 notions and blind experiments; and what the posterity and 
 issue of so honourable a match may be, it is not hard to 
 consider. 
 
 Printing, a gross 1 invention; artillery, a thing that lay not 
 far out of the way ; the needle, a thing partly known before : 
 what a change have these three made in the world in these 
 times ; the one in state of learning, the other in state of the 
 war, the third in the state of treasure, commodities, and navi- 
 gation ! And those, I say, were but stumbled upon and lighted 
 upon by chance. Therefore, no doubt, the sovereignty of Man 
 lieth hid in knowledge; wherein many things are reserved, 
 which kings with their treasure cannot buy, nor with their 
 force command ; their spials 2 and intelligencers can give no 
 news of them, their seamen and discoverers cannot sail where 
 they grow ; now we govern nature in opinions, but we are thrall 3 
 unto her in necessity ; but if we would be led by her in inven- 
 tion, we should command her in action. 
 
 ANTITHETA. 
 
 PEG. CONTBA. 
 
 ' Ea demnm voluptas est secundum ' Contemplatio, speciosa inertia, 
 
 naturain, cujus non est satietas. ' Contemplation is a specious indo- 
 
 ' The only pleasure which can be con- lence.' 
 
 formable to nature is that which knows ;. 
 
 no satiety.' ' Bene cogitare, non multo melius est, 
 
 quain bene somniare. 
 
 ' Thinking well is not very different 
 
 ' Ornnes affectus pravi, falsae estima- from dreaming well.' 
 tiones sunt ; atque eadem sunt bonitas 
 et veritas. 
 
 ' Bad tendencies are, in fact, false 
 judgments of things ; for truth and 
 goodness are the same' 
 
 1 Gross. Probably palpably obvious ; which it was (as has been above remarked) 
 as soon as a cheap paper was invented. 
 
 2 Spials. Scouts. 
 
 ' For he by faithful spials was assured 
 That Egypt's king was forward on his way.' Fairfax. 
 
 3 Thrall. Slave. 
 
 ' No thralls like them that inward bondage have.'
 
 608 The Praise of Knowledge. 
 
 ANNOTATION. 
 
 No better annotation can be given than in Bacon's own 
 words, 'The mistaking or misplacing of the last or farthest 
 end of knowledge, is the greatest error of all the rest : For, men 
 have entered into a desire of learning and knowledge, sometimes 
 upon a natural curiosity, and inquisitive appetite; sometimes 
 to entertain their minds with variety and delight ; sometimes 
 for ornament and reputation ; and sometimes to enable them to 
 victory of wit and contradiction ; and most times for lucre and 
 profession ; but seldom sincerely to give a true account of their 
 gift of reason, to the benefit and use of men : As if there were 
 sought in knowledge, a couch whereupon to rest a searching 
 and restless spirit; or a terras for a wandering and variable 
 mind to walk up and down with a fair prospect; or a tower of 
 state for a proud mind to raise itself upon ; or a fort or com- 
 manding ground for strife and contention ; or a shop for profit 
 or sale ; and not a rich store-house for the glory of the Creator, 
 and the relief of man's estate.' ' 
 
 1 Advancement of Learning.
 
 INDEX TO ESSAYS. 
 
 ESSAY OF PAGE 
 
 Adversity . . . . . . . . . .69 
 
 Ambition . . . . . . . . . 407 
 
 Anger 587 
 
 Atheism .......... 167 
 
 Beauty . . . . . . . . . . 456 
 
 Boldness . . 135 
 
 Building . . . . . . . . , 460 
 
 Ceremonies and Respects . . . .'.',.;-, 548 
 
 Children (Parents and) . . . . . . . .91 
 
 Counsel . . . . . . . . . .221 
 
 Cunning . . . . . . . , 238 
 
 Custom and Education . . . . . . . * . 420 
 
 Death 1 6 
 
 Deformity 458 
 
 Delays . . . . . . . . . .231 
 
 Discourse . . . . . . . ....... 365 
 
 Dispatch . . . . . . . .",*....' 285 
 
 Dissimulation (Simulation and) 81 
 
 Education (Custom and) . . . . . . ".420 
 
 Empire . . . . . . . . . . .212 
 
 Envy ........... 100 
 
 Expense . . , -317 
 
 Faction .- . . . .... ' 541 
 
 Fame (Fragment of an Essay on) 600 
 
 Followers and Friends . . ... . . . 490 
 
 Fortune . . . ..'.... . . 434 
 
 Friendship .... . 299 
 
 Gardens . - . 465 
 
 Glory (Vain) ' - . ' , . . 565 
 
 Goodness, and Goodness of Nature . . -. . . ' r 138 
 
 Great Place .115 
 
 Health (Regimen of) ^ 345 
 
 Honour and Reputation . . . . . . -570 
 
 Innovations . . . . . . . . .261 
 
 Judicature . . . . . . . . . 578 
 
 Kingdoms and Estates (the True Greatness of) . .324 
 
 Knowledge (the Praise of) . . . . . .604 
 
 Love . , . . . . . . no 
 
 R R
 
 6lO INDEX TO ESSAYS. 
 
 ESSAY OF PAGE 
 
 Man's Self (Wisdom for a) . . . . . . . 254 
 
 Marriage and Single Life ....... 95 
 
 Masques and Triumphs ..411 
 
 Nature in Men . . -415 
 
 Negotiating . . -474 
 
 Nobility 146 
 
 Parents and Children . . . . . . . .91 
 
 Plantations 374 
 
 Praise ........... 552 
 
 Prophecies 400 
 
 Revenge .......... 58 
 
 Riches . . . 389 
 
 Seditions and Troubles . . . . . . . .151 
 
 Self (Wisdom for a Man's) .'. . . .. .254 
 
 Simulation and Dissimulation . . . . . .81 
 
 Single Life (Marriage and) . ' , . . . . -95 
 
 Studies . . .",.". . . . . . 498 
 
 Suitors " . . . . . . . . . 495 
 
 Superstition . . . '-, - 18 1 
 
 Suspicion . . . . . . . ... . 351 
 
 Things (Vicissitudes of) . , . . . . . -593 
 
 Travel . . . . . . . . . . . 206 
 
 Truth i 
 
 Unity in Religion . . . . . . . . -23 
 
 Usury . . . '. ' 1 ........ 439 
 
 Vicissitudes of Things . . . ,~ . . . 593 
 
 Vain Glory 565 
 
 Wisdom for a Man's Self . ... . . . 254 
 
 Wise (Seeming) . .291 
 
 Youth and Age 446
 
 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 ABSURD, Bacon's use of the word, 298. 
 
 Advocates, temptations of, 583. 
 
 Age, old, Aristotle's description of, 448 ; and youth, mental qualities 
 
 of, 452. 
 
 Agreement, external, in religion, 56. 
 Althorp, Lord, anecdote of, 559. 
 
 Ambition, true end of, 119 ; not essentially evil, 409. 
 Anger, different modes of appeasing, 591; distinguished from hatred, 
 
 590- 
 
 Ants, mistake concerning, 255. 
 
 Approbation, love of, 561 ; distinct from love of admiration, 562. 
 Aristotle, 59, 61, 109, 257, 306, 368, 417, 429, 448, 590. 
 Arminians, the, 599. 
 
 Associations, definite object in, 313, 425, 544. 
 Atheism, causes of, 175 ; credulity of, 169 ; of Pagan nations, 171. 
 
 BACON, moral character of, 431. 
 
 Bending the wand, 417. 
 
 Benevolence, example of our Lord the rule for, 142 ; ill-directed, 
 
 evils of, 140; nature of, mistaken, 143. 
 
 Birth, noble, aphorism of Warburton respecting, 148 ; how estimated, 149. 
 Bomolochus, 368. 
 Booker, his vocabulary of obsolete words in our Authorized Version 
 
 recommended, iii. 
 
 Books for children, 36, 130, 526 ; popular, 514 ; some to be tasted, 538. 
 Bow, a backed, 289. 
 Brute life, Turkish regard for, 144. 
 
 CABINET council, presidency of, 230. 
 
 Candid men, 134. 
 
 Caution, defect of, in the cunning, 251. 
 
 Cavillers, difficulty of dealing with, xxi., 485. 
 
 Celerity in decision and execution, importance of, illustrated, 232, 236, 
 
 271, 287, 296. 
 Celibacy of clergy, 97, 131. 
 Censure, equivalent to praise, 564. 
 
 Ceremonies, necessity of, 550; religious, multiplication of, 198. 
 Change of course, 125 ; irregularly introduced, 276. 
 Character, similarity of, in men of opposite parties, 546. 
 Children, books for, 36, 130, 526; employment of, as almoners, 423 ; 
 
 gratuitous disappointment of, 76; learning by rote, 516; choice 
 
 of a profession for, 92 ; precocious, 453. 
 Chinese, recklessness of life in, 1 9. 
 Christening of a ship, 185. 
 Cingalese farmer, anecdote of, 524. 
 Clouds, fable of the, 132.
 
 6l2 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 Colonies, ancient Greek, 377; penal, 378; provision for spiritual 
 
 wants of, 388. 
 Common-place book, 519. 
 Common sense, 295. 
 Concession to intimidation, 166. 
 Condescension, spurious, 130. 
 Confidence, partial, evil of, 492 ; confidences, 489. 
 Consistency, 125. 
 Contrarieties, the land of, 386. 
 Controversy, two kinds of, to be avoided, 50. 
 Conviction, openness to, 431. 
 Courage, false, 590. 
 
 Cowper, the poet, quotation from, 292. 
 Crabbe, extract from, 315. 
 Crafty men, 252. 
 
 Credit, undeserved, instances of, 572. 
 Credulity of unbelief, 170. 
 
 Cruelty, not inconsistent with natural benevolence, 144. 
 Cuckoo, the fable of, 219. 
 
 Cunning not wisdom, 250 ; Churchill's description of, 253. 
 Curiosity, a pupil's, importance of exciting, 516. 
 Custom, power of, 424. 
 
 DEFERENCE, mistakes concerning, 64, 417, 508, 562. 
 
 Deformities, original, 459. 
 
 Diet, remark concerning, 346. 
 
 Differences in doctrine and morals, whether designed, 36, 171 ; reli- 
 gious, not confined to speculative points, 37. 
 
 Difficulties in study, rule for, 518. 
 
 Dignity, moral, sense of, essential, 558. 
 
 Disciples, three applications of the term, 47. 
 
 Discipline and trial, 76. 
 
 Discussion, oral and written, compared, 476 ; cautions to be observed 
 in, 480. 
 
 Doubt, impatience of, 288 ; not inconsistent with a habit of faith, 
 358 j of persons, 352 ; of things, 355 ; remedy for, 362. 
 
 Duelling, remarks respecting, 65. 
 
 ECONOMY, 14. 
 
 Education, like the grafting of a tree, 428, 429 ; Irish Board of, 531. 
 
 Egypt, prevalence of envy in, 106. 
 
 Eiron and Bomolochus, 368. 
 
 Embarrassment, pecuniary, of the rich, 321. 
 
 England, freedom of, from ambition, 334. 
 
 English, injustice done to the, 334. 
 
 Errors, vulgar, secondary, 63. 
 
 Erroneous notions, how to be dealt with, 482. 
 
 Etymology, abuse of, 242, 530. 
 
 Evils, escaped, underrating of, 158. 
 
 Examples, bad, 315. 
 
 Expect, ambiguity of the word, 322. 
 
 Expediency, 6. 
 
 Expenditure, showy, 320.
 
 GENERAL INDEX. 613 
 
 Experience, not to be measured by age, 273, 449 ; and common sense, 
 
 294, 449. 
 Eye, the evil, 105. 
 
 FACULTIES, decay of the, 453. 
 
 Fallacy of composition, in the spendthrift's case, 323. 
 
 Faults, observing of, 314. 
 
 Feigning, power of, 87. 
 
 Flattery, domestic, 560. 
 
 Followers of their own footsteps, 266, 282. 
 
 Fond, modern use of the word, 112. 
 
 Forgiveness, Christian, mistakes concerning, 63, 417, 592 ; of real 
 
 injuries, not the hardest, 60. 
 Forest, American, 502. 
 Formulary, alterations in a, 272. 
 Fortune favours fools, 436. 
 Friendship, indispensable, 306 ; continuance of, in the future state, 
 
 307; uses of, 313, 316. 
 
 Frivolous, proper application of the term, 414. 
 Future state, the preparedness for, illustrated, 19. 
 
 GARDENING, landscape, earliest writers on, 472. 
 Good-humour and good-nature, 143. 
 Grafting, 428. 
 Graptomancy, 418. 
 Grey, Earl, letter to, 379. 
 
 HABIT and custom, distinction between, 423 ; an opposite, formed by 
 
 the same thing, 428. 
 Helotism, 160. 
 
 History, study of, 418, 528, 536. 
 Holland, New, 65. 
 Horse-rashness, 282. 
 Hume, last hours of, 574. 
 
 ICHNEUMON fly, 20. 
 
 Idols of the race, 419. 
 
 Ignorance of our ignorance, 54 
 
 Ill-used man, an, 437. 
 
 Inconsistency, imputation of, 125. 
 
 Indifference of the judgment and of the will, 7 4 2 4> 5 2 3- 
 
 Infallibility, a craving for, a cause of atheism, 175 ; pretension to, 
 
 unconnected with persecution, 42. 
 Influence, fear of impairing our, 1 3. 
 Ingenuity, perverted, instances of, 53 * 
 
 JESTING, profane, 173, 184. 
 Johnson, a paradox of, 430. 
 Johnstone, Sir Alexander, 524. 
 Joseph, the Patriarch, generosity of, 64. 
 Judgment, private, 31. 
 
 KITE, fable of the, 219. 
 
 Knowledge, misapplication of, 529 ; its true end, 608.
 
 614 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 LANGUAGE, changes in, 274; technical, 52, 518. 
 
 Latitudinarianism, intolerance of, 189. 
 
 Life, recklessness of, 18 ; domestic, necessary to public men, 131. 
 
 Longevity and early hours, 347. 
 
 Love, romantic, 112. 
 
 MANNER, a conscious, 367. 
 
 Mathematics, study of, 521. 
 
 Mean, the golden, 120, 294. 
 
 Meander, the, 203. 
 
 Melbourne, Lord, 573. 
 
 Measures, order of, important, 236. 
 
 Minority, influence of, 227. 
 
 Mirror of a wise man, 293. 
 
 Monastic life, 311. 
 
 Monopoly, 259, 405. 
 
 Moral principle, trials of, advantageous, 75 ; value of, to knowledge ot 
 
 mankind, 243, 352 ; effect of party-spirit upon, 546. 
 Motives of right actions, 563. 
 Moth -rashness, 282. 
 Mummies, preparers of the, 577- 
 Myths, supposed, 534. 
 
 NATURALIZATION, 333. 
 
 Nobility, British, system of, 148. 
 
 Non-resistance, 335. 
 
 Nosology, mental, 243. 
 
 Novelty, love of, 264, 277 ; exaggeration of, 282. 
 
 OATH of abjuration, 532. 
 Oppression, effects of, on character, 72, 74. 
 Orators, two kinds of, 372. 
 Oratory exercised on a man's self, 10, 313. 
 Over-governing, error of, 163, 443. 
 
 Over-rating of cautious characters, 136 ; of reserved characters, 85 ; 
 of the seen and known, 404. 
 
 PAGANS, atheism of, 171 ; objects of their worship, 172. 
 
 Palimpsest, a human, 454. 
 
 Parable, what properly so called, 534. 
 
 Parochial visitors, 486. 
 
 Party spirit, 47, 54, 425, 543 ; effect of, on the moral standard, 546. 
 
 Peel, Sir Eobert, 573. 
 
 Penal colonies, 378. 
 
 Persecution, principle of, 38 ; by what argument precluded, 42 ; not 
 
 consisting in severity of penalty, 55. 
 Phenakism, 14. 
 
 Pilate's question, 4. 
 
 Pilgrim Fathers, intolerance of, 72. 
 
 Poems and tales, influence of, 36, 525. 
 
 Political economy, absurd notions of, 165. 
 
 Poverty, exposure of, 319 : praise of, 397. 
 
 Power, despotic, anomaly in, 158. 
 
 Predictions, political, 403, 602.
 
 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 Prejudices, cautions to be observed in combating, 480. 
 
 Priestcraft, exclusion of, from Christianity, 195 ; true origin of, 193. 
 
 Procrastination in study, 507. 
 
 Profaneness, 173, 184. 
 
 Prophecies, 404. 
 
 Proverbs, true character of, v. 
 
 Pumpkin and pine-apple, 550. 
 
 Puzzle-headedness conducive to sudden celebrity, 574. 
 
 QUESTIONS, impertinent, how to deal with, 85 ; in teaching, three 
 kinds of, recommended, 515. 
 
 RASHNESS of the horse and moth, 282, 452. 
 
 Reactions, danger of, 203, 280. 
 
 Reading through coloured spectacles, 512. 
 
 Reason, proper employment of, 9. 
 
 Recommendations, 497. 
 
 Religion, ' any better than none,' fallacy of the maxim, 172; effect 
 
 of, on national character, 339. 
 Religious liberty, 56. 
 
 Remedy of a remedy, comparatively easy, 268. 
 Reputation, posthumous, 21, 573. 
 Reserve, 85. 
 
 Restoration mistaken for innovation, 274. 
 Revolution, best safeguard against, 218, 283. 
 Rewards and punishments, temporal, a distinctive characteristic of the 
 
 Mosaic dispensation, 78. 
 Ridicule, 173. 
 Rise by merit, 108. 
 River, windings of, 203. 
 Robinson Crusoe's goats, 243. 
 Rumours, effects of, 403, 602. 
 
 SANDFOKD and Merton, xviii. 
 Satan scoffing, 173. 
 
 Scripture, rationalistic explainers of, 534 ; study of, 509. 
 Secondary vulgar errors, 134. 
 Self-conceit and modesty, 567. 
 Self-distrust, 65 ; flattery, 10, 313 ; torment, 78. 
 Selfishness, distinct from self-love, 257 ; taught by the unselfish, 94. 
 Self-love and social, 257. 
 Senior, Professor, remark of, 260. 
 Sergeant, a Scotch, anecdote of, 425. 
 Shakespere, Whately on, 472. 
 Slaves, ad valorem tax on, 235. 
 Smattering, 502. 
 
 Society, progress of, how provided for, 339, 397. 
 
 Sovereign, British, power of, 217 ; hereditary, some reasons for pre- 
 ferring, 109, 332. 
 
 Stability in laws and institutions, 283. 
 Standing commissions, 229. 
 Station, high, two classes of men in, 119; their relation with subor-
 
 6l6 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 dinates, 126; rule for Spartan warfare applicable to, 130; praise 
 
 and censure of, indiscriminate, 132. 
 Studies, contempt of, 500, 505. 
 
 Style, dim and mystical, a, viii, 297 ; at different periods of life, 455. 
 Suppression, falsehood of, 12. 
 Sydney, society-in, 386. 
 Sympathy, reflex, phenomena referred to, 369. 
 
 TALLEYRAND, anecdote of, 278. 
 Temperature, alternations of, 349. 
 Terms, fixed, 52. 
 
 Territory, aggrandizement of, avoided by England, 334. 
 Tests of church-communion necessary, 29. 
 Thaumatrope, fallacy of the, 379. 
 
 Thomson's Seasons, by whom first brought into notice, 472. 
 Time not properly an agent, 233, 263. 
 Toldoth Jeschu, 540. 
 
 Tradition, vagueness of, 200 ; co-ordinate and sub-ordinate, not prac- 
 tically distinct, 201. 
 Translation, oral, utility of, 477. 
 Travellers, owe-eyed, 208; in Ireland, 210. 
 Tricks of cunning, 245, 250, 297, 373, 602. 
 Trifles, importance of, as tests, 256, 417. 
 Truth, disregard of, 8 ; obstacles to the pursuit of, u. 
 Turks, indifference of, to human life, 144. 
 
 UNBELIEF, credulity of, 170; intolerance of, 43, 189. 
 United States, President of the, 218, 410. 
 Unity and truth, 34, 43. 
 Use, what is the, 520. 
 
 VERBS neuter, 350. 
 
 Veracity, credit obtained for, by impostors, 1 5. 
 Virtues, the higher, disparagement of, 555. 
 Voluntary system, the, 280. 
 
 WAR, fallacy with regard to its costliness, 337. 
 
 Warburton, Bishop, his aphorism on nobility, 148. 
 
 Washington, General, 410. 
 
 Wellington, Duke of, 573. 
 
 Wealth, influence of, on character, 393 ; not to be despised, 398. 
 
 'What is the use?' 520. 
 
 Whately, Thomas, on Landscape-Gardening, 472. 
 
 Wilkes, a saying of, 481. 
 
 Will of God, the, two senses of, confounded, 40. 
 
 Williams, Roger, 73. 
 
 Wisdom, pretensions to, 293 ; of ancestors, 269, 273. 
 
 Wise man, the mirror of a, 293. 
 
 Words, change in meaning of, 275. 
 
 Writers, original, xiii. 
 
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