THE. LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA BEQUEST OF Mrs. Marion Randall Parsons Digitized by tine Internet Archive in 2007 witii funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.arcliive.org/details/essaysorcounselsOObacoricli ^ ? THE ENGLISH WORKS OF FRANCIS BACON VOLUME I r T •^' Methuen's STANDARD UBRARYl THE ESSAYS OR COUNSELS CIVIL AND MORAL AND THE NEW ATLANTIS OF FRANCIS LORD VERULAM VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN METHUEN & CO. 36 ESSEX STREET W. C. LONDON Published in Methuen^s Standard Library in 1905 Add»l . GIFT Bat JL. FRANCIS BACON Francis Bacon, son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of England, was bom at his father's official residence, York House, near the Strand, London, on 22nd January 1561. His mother (his father's second wife) was sister of the wife of Lord Burghley, Queen Elizabeth's Lord Treasurer and chief minister. After spending two years (1573-5) at Trinity College, Cambridge, Bacon was admitted student at Gray's Inn. Three years of his youth (1576-9) were spent at the English Embassy in Paris. In 1582 he was called to the Bar, and in 1584, at the early age of twenty-three, he entered the House of Commons. He was re-elected to every Parliament that met during the next thirty years, and formed enlightened opinions on many political questions. From boyhood until death, however, the dominating interest of his life lay outside politics or law. He consistently cherished the ambition of extending the limits of human knowledge and of helping his fellow-men to understand and control the forces of nature. He regarded the emoluments and influence, which political and legal prefer- ment might bring, as necessary means of reaching his intel- lectual goal. In view of his exalted intellectual aims he deemed himself entitled to override ordinary laws of morality in the ancillary pursuit of remunerative and influential office. He drew up a series of cynical rules of practical conduct on which he relied to secure his worldly advancement. In accordance with these rules he enlisted his abilities about 1591 in the service of the Queen's favourite, the Earl of Essex. He under- vi FRANCIS BACON took to supply the Earl with political advice, for which he hoped to receive in return profitable promotion. The arrange- ment worked ill. The Earl was by temperament incapable of benefiting by Bacon's sagacity. He was dismissed from all his offices in 1600 for misconduct in the government of Ireland, and next year was executed for stin-ing up treasonable rebellion in London. Bacon, in defiance of all considerations of honour or propriety, sought to turn Essex's misfortunes to his own advantage, and appeared as one of the counsel for the prosecu- tion at the two trials of Essex. But Bacon's unprincipled action did not bring the preferment for which he yearned, and his prospects remained unpromising until Queen Eliza- beth died in 1603. On James i.*s succession Bacon was more successful in winning the royal favour, and material recog- nition ultimately came his way. In 1607, at the age of forty- six, he was made Solicitor- General, and in 1613 he received the higher office of Attorney -General. Meanwhile he had pursued his literary and scientific labours with eminent success. In 1597 he published the first edition of his Essays, and in 1605 there was issued his greatest contribution in English to philosophical literature, his Advarice- ment of Learning. Until his death his intellectual enthusiasm steadily grew. But in practical affairs his conduct came to defy more and more openly lofty principles. In order to enhance his worldly position, he lost no opportunity through middle life of conciliating the goodwill of those in power, no matter how disastrous to the public welfare he knew their policy to be. His subservience to the King's worthless favourite, George Villiers, afterwards Duke of Buckingham, was richly rewarded. In 1617 he was admitted to the high legal office of Lord Keeper. Next year he was made Lord Chancellor, and was created a peer of the realm, with the title of Lord Verulam. In the early days of 1621 he was promoted to be Viscount St. Alban. Both his titles commemorated his association with the city of St. Albans, the PREFATORY NOTE vii Verulamium of Roman Britain, near which lay the estate of Gorhambury. He inherited tliis property from his father, and built upon it a sumptuous mansion, where he lived in great ostentation and at ruinous cost. In 1620 Bacon's worldly fortune reached its zenith. He some- what paradoxically signalised that year by publishing the only part of his philosophical system, which he formally completed. The great book was written in Latin, and was entitled the Novum Organum, A year later Bacon's worldly career ended in disgrace. A charge was brought against him of taking bribes from suitors in the Court of Chancery, over which he presided. The shock of the accusation completely disabled him. He admitted his guilt, and the House of Lords in his absence con- demned him to pay a fine of .£'40,000, to be imprisoned for life, and to be incapable of holding office in the State. The fine and imprisonment were remitted by the King, and Bacon made strenuous efforts to obtain reinstatement in public life. But there he failed completely. He spent his enforced retirement at Gorhambury in scientific and literary research. His health was shattered, and he died five years after his degradation, on 9th April 1626, in his sixty-sixth year. He was buried in the Church of St. Michael's, St. Albans. Bacon's scientific and literary achievements offer a strange contrast to the pitiful details of his public career. His fame mainly rests on his advocacy of the application of inductive principles to scientific research, and on the eloquence with which he preached the doctrine that the fit organisation of knowledge would ultimately give man control of all the forces of nature. He failed to keep abreast of the scientific dis- coveries of his own day, and showed little personal aptitude for conducting original scientific investigation. But his intuitive appreciation of right scientific method and his insistence on the nobility of serious study invested his scientific writings with a rare power of stimulation and suggestion. viii FRANCIS BACON In pure literature Bacon's chief work is his Essays. The first edition, which appeared in 1597, consisted only of ten essays, together with two pieces called respectively Sacred Meditations and Coulers of Good arid Evil. A revised version, which came out in 1612, brought the number of essays up to thirty-eight. The final edition, which Bacon superintended, was dated 1625, the year before his death, and supplied as many as fifty-eight essays. A previous unpublished fragment of an essay on " Fame " appeared posthumously in a volume of miscellaneous pieces by Bacon, which was edited by his chaplain, Dr. William Rawley, under the title of Resiiscitatio, in 1657. The present text of the Essays reprints the edition of 1625, with the addition of the fragment on " Fame " from the Resuscitatio. Bacon's Essays supply penetrating reflections on almost every phase of human conduct and sentiment. They betray a wide personal experience and singularly acute powers of observation. Bacon's views of morality did not differ widely from those of Macchiavelli, with whose writings he was acquainted. But Bacon's practical philosophy of life is somewhat less cynical than that of the Italian master. Although he treats material prosperity as the highest aim, he recognises the beneficent influence of virtue and religion. The folly and ignorance with which he credits mankind excite in him a profound pity. But it is the terseness and pithiness of expression which give Bacon's Essays their main literary interest. The vocabulary is for the most part simple and at times homely. But Bacon contrives to invest his phraseology with a sustained dignity and stimu- lating force which no other aphoristic writer in English approached. The New Atlantis, which is also printed in this volume, is a literary effort in a different field from that which the Essays cover. It is a mere fragment, which was begun by Bacon a year before his death and was left unfinished. His intention was to PREFATORY NOTE ix expound his scientific aspirations in the shape of fiction. He set out to depict an imaginary State, the subjects of which devote all their resources and energy to the organisation and practice of scientific research. The New Atlantis embodies Bacon's faith in the limitless capacity of scientific study, when fittingly endowed and pursued methodically and disinterestedly, to unravel the secrets of nature. The New Atlantis was first published in 1627, the year following Bacon's death, under the editorship of Dr. Rawley ; it formed an appendix to the volume called Sylva Sylvarum, a miscellaneous collection of Bacon's scientific observations. The present text is from the original edition. SIDNEY LEE TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE MY VERY GOOD LORD THE DUKE OF BUCKING- HAM HIS GRACE, LORD HIGH ADMIRAL OF ENGLAND. Excellent Lord. SALOMON says, " A good name is as a precious ointment ; " and I assure myself, such will your Grace's name be, with posterity. For your fortune, and merit both, have been eminent. And you have planted things, that are like to last. I do now publish my Essays \ which of all my other works have been most current: for that, as it seems, they come home, to men's business, and bosoms. I have enlarged them, both in number, and weight ; so that they are indeed a new work. I thought it therefore agreeable, to my affection, and obligation to your Grace, to prefix your name before them, both in English, and in Latin. For I do conceive, that the Latin volume of them, (being in the universal language) may last, as long as books last. My Instaura- lion, I dedicated to the King : My History of Henry the Seventh- (which I have now also translated into Latin) and my portions of Natural History, to the Prince : and these I dedicate to your Grace ; being of the best fruits, that by the good increase, which God gives to my pen and labours, I could yield. God lead your Grace by the hand. Your Grace's most obliged and faithful Servant, Fr. St. ALBAN. THE TABLE I. Of Truth 1 II. Of Death 3 III. Of Unity in Religion 6 IV. Of Revenge . 9 V. Of Adversity. . 11 VI. Of Simulation and Dissimulation . 12 VII. Of Parents and Children . 15 VIII. Of Marriage and Single Life . 17 IX. Of Envy . 19 X. Of Love . 23 XI. Of Great Place . 25 XII. Of Boldness . . 28 XIII. Of Goodness and Goodness of Nature . 30 XIV. Of Nobility . . 32 XV. Of Seditions and Troubles . 34 XVI. Of Atheism . . 39 XVII. Of Superstition . 41 XVIII. Of Travel . . 43 XIX. Of Empire . . 45 XX. Of Counsel . . 49 XXI. Of Delays . . 63 XXII. Of Cunning . . 54 XXIII. Of Wisdom for a Man's Self . 57 XXIV. Of Innovations . 59 XXV. Of Despatch . . 60 XXVI. Of Seeming Wise . . 62 XXVII. Of Friendship . 64 XXVIII. Of Expense . . 70 XXIX. Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms AND Estates. 71 XXX. Of Regimen of Health . , . 78 XXXI. Of Suspicion . . . 80 XXXII. Of Discourse , . 81 xiii XIV THE TABLE ESSAY PAGE XXXIII. Of Plantations 83 XXXIV. Of Kiches .... 86 XXXV. Of Prophecies 89 XXXVI. Of Ambition 92 XXXVII. Of Masques and Triumphs 94 XXXVIII. Of Nature in Men 96 XXXIX. Of Custom and Education 98 XL. Of Fortune 1.00 XLI. Of Usury .... 102 XLII. Of Youth and Age 105 XLIII. Of Beauty .... 107 XLIV. Of Deformity 108 XLV. Of Building 109 XLVI. Of Gardens 112 XLVII. Of Negotiating . 117 XLVIII. Of Followers and Friends 119 XLIX. Of Suitors . 121 L. Of Studies . 123 LI. Of Faction . 125 LII. Of Ceremonies and Respects 127 LIII. Of Praise . 129 LIV. Of Vainglory . 131 LV. Of Honour and Reputation . 133 LVI. Of Judicature . 135 LVII. Of Anger . . 138 LVIII. Of Vicissitude of Things . 140 Of Fame, a Fragment . 144 THE NEW ATLANTIS 147 ESSAYS OR COUNSELS CIVIL AND MORAL OF TRUTH WHAT is truth ? said jesting Pilate ; and would not stay for an answer. Certainly there be, that delight in giddiness ; and count it a bondage, to fix a belief; affecting freewill in think- ing, as well as in acting. And though the sects of philosophers of that kind be gone, yet there remain certain discoursing wits, which are of the same veins, though there be not so much blood in them, as was in those of the ancients. But it is not only the difficulty, and labour, which men take in finding out of truth; nor again, that when it is found, it imposeth upon men's thoughts ; that doth bring lies in favour : but a natural, though coiTupt, love of the lie itself. One of the later school of the Grecians examineth the matter, and is at a stand, to think what should be in it, that men should love lies; where neither they make for pleasure, as with poets ; nor for advantage, as with the merchant ; but for the lie's sake. But I cannot tell : this same truth is a naked, and open daylight, that doth not show the masks, and mummeries, and triumphs of the world, half so stately, and daintily, as candle-lights. Truth may perhaps come to the price of a pearl, that showeth best by day : but it will not rise to the price of a diamond, or carbuncle, that showeth best in varied lights. A mixture of a lie doth ever add pleasure. Doth any man doubt, that, if there were taken out of men's minds vain opinions, flatter- ing hopes, false valuations, imaginations as one would, and the like, but it would leave the minds of a number of men poor shrunken things, full of melancholy, and indisposition, and un- pleasing to themselves ? One of the Fathers, in great severity, called poesy, Vinum Daemonum ; because it filleth the imagination, and yet it is but with the shadow of a lie. But it is not the lie 2 FRANCIS BACON [essay i. that passeth through the mind, but the lie that sinketh in, and settleth in it, that doth the hurt, such as we spake of before. But howsoever these things are thus, in men's depraved judgments, and affections, yet truth, which only doth judge itself, teacheth, that the inquiry of truth, which is the love-making, or wooing of it ; the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it ; and the belief of truth, which is the enjoying of it ; is the sovereign good of human nature. The first creature of God, in the works of the days, was the light of the sense ; the last, was the light of reason ; and His Sabbath work, ever since, is the illumination of His Spirit. First He breathed light, upon the face of the matter or chaos ; then He breathed light, into the face of man ; and still He breatheth and inspireth light, into the face of His chosen. The poet, that beautified the sect that was otherwise inferior to the rest, saith yet excellently well : " It is a pleasure to stand upon the shore, and to see ships tossed upon the sea : a pleasure to stand in the window of a castle, and to see a battle, and the adventures thereof, below: but no pleasure is comparable to the standing upon the vantage ground of truth : " (a hill not to be commanded, and where the air is always clear and serene ;) " and to see the errors, and wanderings, and mists, and tempests, in the vale below : " so always, that this prospect be with pity, and not with swelling, or pride. Certainly, it is heaven upon earth, to have a man's mind move in charity, rest in Providence, and turn upon the poles of truth. To pass from theological, and philosophical truth, to the truth of civil business; it will be acknowledged, even by those that practise it not, that clear and round dealing is the 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 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 there- fore Mountaigny saith prettily, when he inquired the reason, why the word of the lie should be such a disgrace, and such an odious charge ? Saith he, " If it be well weighed, to say that a man lieth, is as much to say as, that he is brave towards God, and a coward towards men." For a lie faces God, and shrinks from man. Surely the wickedness of falsehood, and breach of faith, cannot possibly be so highly expressed, as in that it shall be the last peal, to call the judgments of God upon the generations of men, it being foretold that, when Christ cometh, "He shall not find faith upon the earth." II OF DEATH MEN fear death, as children fear to go in the dark : and as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. Certainly, the contemplation of death, as the wages of sin, and passage to another world, is holy, and religious ; but the fear of it, as a tribute due unto nature, is weak. Yet in religious meditations, there is sometimes mixture of vanity, and of superstition. You shall read, in some of the friars' books of mortification, that a man should think with himself what the pain is, if he have but his finger's end pressed, or tortured ; and thereby imagine what the pains of death are, when the whole body is corrupted and dissolved ; when many times death passeth with less pain than the torture of a limb : for the most vital parts are not the quickest of sense. And by him, that spake only as a philosopher, and natural man, it was well said ; "Pompa mortis magis i arret y quam mors ipsa." 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, and masters, the fear of death : and therefore death is no such terrible enemy, when a man hath so many attendants, about him, that can win the combat of him. Revenge triumphs over death ; love slights it ; honour aspireth to it ; grief flieth to it ; fear pre-occupateth it ; nay, we read, after Otho the Emperor had slain himself, pity (which is the tenderest of affections) provoked many to die, out of mere compassion to their sovereign, and as the truest sort of followers. Nay, Seneca adds niceness and satiety ; " Cogita quam diu eadem feceris ; mori velle, non tantum, Jbrtis, aid miser, sed etiam fastidiosus potest." A man would die, though he were neither valiant, nor miserable, only upon a weariness to do the same thing, so oft over and over. It is no less worthy to observe, how little alteration, in good spirits, the approaches of death make ; for they appear to be the same men, till the last instant. Augustus Caesar died in a compUment ; " Livia, conjugii nostri memor, vive et vale." Tiberius in dissimulation ; as Tacitus saith of him ; *' Ja?n Tiberium vires, et corpus, non dissimulatio, deserehant," Vespasian in a jest; 3 4 FRANCIS BACON [essay it. sitting upon the stool, " Ut puto Deiisjio." Galba with a sentence ; "Feri, si ex re sit populi Romani; " holding forth his neck. Septimius Severus in despatch ; " Adeste, si quid mihi restat agendum." And the like. Certainly, the Stoics bestowed too much cost upon death, and by their great preparations made it appear more fearful. Better saith he, "Qui Jinevi vitce extremum inter munera ponai naturce." It is as natural to die, as to be born ; and to a little infant, perhaps, the one is as painful as the other. He that dies in an earnest pursuit is like one that is wounded in hot blood ; who, for the time, scarce feels the hurt; and therefore, a mind fixed, and bent upon somewhat that is good, doth avert the dolours of death : but above all, believe it, the sweetest canticle is. Nunc dimittis ; when a man hath obtained worthy ends, and expecta- tions. Death hath this also ; that it openeth the gate to good fame^ and extinguisheth en\y. ** Extinct us amabitur taem.** Ill OF UNITY IN RELIGION RELIGION being the chief band of human society, it is a happy thing when itself is well contained within the true band of unity. The quarrels, and divisions about religion, were evils unknown to the heathen. The reason was, because the religion of the heathen consisted rather in rites and ceremonies, than in any constant belief. For you may imagine, what kind of faith theirs was, when the chief Doctors, and Fathers of their Church, were the poets. But the true God hath this attribute, that He is a jealous God ; and therefore, His worship and religion will endure no mixture, nor partner. We shall therefore speak a few words, concerning the unity of the Church ; what are the fruits thereof ; what the bounds ; and what the means ? The fruits of unity (next unto the well-pleasing of God, which is all in all) are two ; the one, towards those that are without the Church ; the other, towards those that are within. For the former ; it is certain, that heresies, and schisms, are of all others the greatest scandals ; yea more than corruption of manners. For as in the natural body, a wound or solution of continuity is worse than a corrupt humour; so in the spiritual. So that nothing doth so much keep men out of the Church, and drive men out of the Church, as breach of unity : and therefore, whensoever it cometh to that pass, that one saith, "Ecce in deserto;" another saith, " Ecce in peneiralibus ; " that is, when some men seek Christ, in the conventicles of heretics, and others, in an outward face of a church, that voice had need continually to sound in men's ears, " Nolite exire," go not out. The Doctor of the Gentiles (the pro- priety of whose vocation drew him to have a special care of those without) saith ; " If an heathen come in, and hear you speak with several tongues, will he not say that you are mad ? " And certainly, it is little better, when atheists, and profane persons, do hear of so many discordant, and contrary opinions in religion ; it doth avert them from the Church, and maketh them, " to sit down in the chair of the scomers." It is but a light thing, to be vouched in so serious a matter, but yet it expresseth well the deformity. There 6 FRANCIS BACON [essay hi. is a master of scoffing, that in his catalogue of books, of a feigned library, sets down this title of a book ; " The Morris-dance of Heretics." For indeed, every sect of them hath a divers posture, or cringe by themselves, which cannot but move derision, in worldlings, and depraved politics, wh« 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 of controversies, into treaties of mortification, and devotion. Concerning the bounds of unity; the true placing of them importeth exceedingly. There appear to be two extremes. For to certain zelants all speech of pacification is odious. " Is it peace, Jehu ? What hast thou to do with peace ? Turn thee behind me." Peace is not the matter, but following and party. Contrari- wise, certain Laodiceans, and luke-warm persons, think they may accommodate points of religion, by middle ways, and taking part of both, and witty reconcilements ; as if they would make an arbitrement, between God and man. Both these extremes are to be avoided ; which will be done, if the league of Christians, penned by our Saviour Himself, were in the two cross clauses thereof soundly and plainly expounded ; " he that is not with us, is against us : " and again, " he that is not against us, is with us : " that is, if the points fundamental and of substance in religion were truly discerned and distinguished, from points not merely of faith, but of opinion, order, or good intention. This is a thing, may seem to many a matter trivial, and done already: but if it were done less partially, it would be embraced more generally. Of this I may give only this advice, according to my small model. Men ought to take heed, of rending God's Church, by two kinds of controversies. The one is, when the matter of the point controverted is too small and light, not worth the heat, and strife about it, kindled only by contradiction. For, as it is noted by one of the Fathers, " Christ's coat, indeed, had no seam : but the Church's vesture was of divers colours ; " whereupon he saith, " In veste varietas sit, scissura non sit ; " they be two things, unity, and uniformity. The other is, when the matter of the point controverted is great ; but it is driven to an over-great subtlety, and obscurity; so that it becometh a thing, rather ingenious, than substantial. A man that is of judgment and understanding, shall sometimes hear ignorant men differ, and know well within himself, that those which so differ, mean one thing, and yet they themselves would never agree. And if it come so to pass, in that distance of judgment, which is between man and man ; shall we ESSAY III.] OF UNITY IN RELIGION 7 not think that God above, that knows the heart, doth not discern, that frail men, in some of their contradictions, intend the same thing; and accepteth of both? The nature of such contro- versies is excellently expressed, by St. Paul, in the warning and precept, that he giveth, concerning the same, " Devita prof anas vocum novitateSf et oppositiones falsi nominis sciential." Men create oppositions, which are not ; and put them into new terms, so fixed, as, whereas the meaning ought to govern the term, the term in effect governeth the meaning. There be also two false peaces, or unities ; the one, when the peace is grounded but upon an implicit ignorance ; for all 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 Nabucadnezar's image ; they may cleave, but they will not incorporate. Concerning the means of procuring unity ; men must beware, that in the procuring, or muniting, of religious unity, they do not dissolve and deface the laws of charity, and of human society. There be two swords amongst Christians ; the spiritual, and temporal ; and both have their due office, and place, in the maintenance of religion. But we may not take up the third sword, which is Mahomet's sword, or like unto it ; that is, to propagate religion by wars, or by sanguinary persecutions, to force consciences ; except it be in cases of overt scandal, blasphemy, or intermixture of practice against the state ; much less to nourish seditions ; to 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. For this is but to dash the first table against the second ; and so to consider men as Christians, as we forget that they are men. Lucretius the poet, when he beheld the act of Agamemnon, that could endure the sacrificing of his own daughter, exclaimed ; ** Tantum relligio potuit suadere malorum.'" What would he have said, if he had known of the massacre in France, or the powder treason of England } He would have been seven times more epicure and atheist than he was. For as the temporal sword is to be drawn, with great circumspection, in cases of religion ; so it is a thing monstrous, to put it into the hands of the common people. Let that be left unto the ana- baptists, and other furies. It was great blasphemy, when the devil said ; " I will ascend, and be like the Highest ; " but it is greater blasphemy, to personate God, and bring Him in saying ; " I will descend, and be like the Prince of Darkness ; " and what is it better, to make the cause of religion to descend to the cruel and execrable actions of murdering princes, butchery of 8 FRANCIS BACON [essay hi. people, and subversion of states, and governments ? Surely, this is to bring down the Holy Ghost, instead of a likeness of a dove, in the shape of a vulture, or raven : and to set, out of the bark of a Christian Church, a flag of a bark of pirates, and assassins. Therefore it is most necessary, that the Church by doctrine and decree ; princes by their sword ; and all learnings, both Christian and moral, as by their mercury rod ; do damn and send to hell, for ever, those facts and opinions tending to the support of the same; as hath been already in good part done. Surely in counsels, concerning religion, that counsel of the apostle would be prefixed ; " Ira hominis non (triplet jusiiciam Dei." And it was a notable observation of a wise Father, and no less ingenuously confessed ; " that those, which held and persuaded pressure of consciences, were commonly interested therein, themselves, for their own ends." IV OF REVENGE REVENGE is a kind of wild justice ; which, the more man's nature runs to, the more ought law to weed it out. For as for the first wrong, it doth but offend the law ; but the revenge of that wrong putteth the law out of office. Certainly, in taking revenge, a man is but even with his enemy ; but in passing it over, he is superior : for it is a prince's part to pardon. And Salomon, I am sure, saith, " It is the glory of a man to pass by an offence." That which is past, is gone, and irrevocable ; and wise men have enough to do with things present, and to come : therefore, they do but trifle with themselves, that 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 briar, which prick, and scratch, because they can do no other. The most tolerable sort of revenge is for those wrongs which there is no law to remedy : but then, let a man take heed the revenge be such, as there is no law to punish : else, a man's enemy is still 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 friends, as if those wrongs were unpar- donable : " You shall read," saith he, " that we are commanded to forgive our enemies; but you never read, that we are com- manded, to forgive our friends." But yet the spirit of Job was in a better tune; "Shall we," saith he, "take good at God's hands, and not be content to take evil also ? " And so of friends in a proportion. This is certain; that a man who studieth revenge, keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal, and do well. Public revenges are, for the most part, fortunate; as 10 FRANCIS BACON [essay iv. that for the death of Caesar ; for the death of Pertinax ; for the death of Henry the Third of France ; and many more. But in private revenges it is not so. Nay rather, vindictive persons live the life of witches; who as they are mischievous, so end they unfortunate. OF ADVERSITY IT was an high speech of Seneca, (after the manner of the Stoics) " that the good things, which belong to prosperity, are to be wished ; but the good things, that belong to adversity, are to be admired." " Bona rerum secundarum, optabilia ; adversarum, mirabilia." Cei-tainly, 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 gi*eatness, to have in one, the frailty of a man, and the security of a God." " Fere magmtm, habere fragilitatem hominisj securitatem Dei." This would have done better in poesy ; where transcendences are more allowed. And the poets, indeed, have been busy with it ; for it is, in effect, the thing which is figured in that strange fiction, of the ancient poets, which seemeth not to be without mystery ; nay, and to have some approach to the state of a Christian ; that Hercules, when he went to unbind Prometheus, (by whom human nature is represented) sailed the length of the great ocean, in an earthen pot, or pitcher : lively describing Christian resolution ; that saileth, in the frail bark of the flesh, through the waves of the world. But to speak in a mean. The virtue of prosperity is temperance ; the virtue of adversity is fortitude : which in morals is the more heroical virtue. Prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testament ; adversity is the blessing of the New ; which carrieth the greater benediction, and the clearer revelation of God's 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 of Salomon. Prosperity is not without many fears and distastes ; and adversity is not without comforts and hopes. We see in needle-works, and embroideries, it is more pleasing, to have a lively work, upon a sad and solemn ground ; than to have a dark and melancholy work, upon a lightsome ground : judge therefore, of the pleasure of the heart, by the pleasure of the eye. Cei*tainly, virtue is like precious odours, most fragrant, when they are incensed, or crushed : for prosperity doth best discover vice ; but adversity doth best discover virtue. 11 VI OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION DISSIMULATION is but a faint kind of policy, or wisdom ; for it asketh a strong wit, and a strong heart, to know when to tell truth, and to do it. Therefore it is the weaker sort of politics that are the great dissemblers. Tacitus saith ; " Livia sorted well with the arts of her hus- band, and dissimulation of her son : " attributing arts or policy to Augustus, and dissimulation to Tiberius. And again, when Mucianus encourageth Vespasian to take arms against Vitellius, he saith ; " We rise not against the piercing judgment of Augustus, nor the extreme caution or closeness of Tiberius." These properties of arts or policy, and dissimulation or closeness, are indeed habits and faculties several, and to be distinguished. For if a man have that penetration of judgment, as he can discern what things are to be laid open, and what to be secreted, and what to be showed at half-lights, and to whom, and when, (which indeed are arts of state, and arts of life, as Tacitus well calleth them) to him, a habit of dissimulation is a hindrance, and a poorness. But if a man cannot obtain to that judgment, then it is left to him, generally, to be close, and a dissembler. For where a man cannot choose, or vary in particulars, there it is good to take the safest and wariest way in general ; like the going softly by one that cannot well see. Certainly, the ablest men, that ever were, have had all an openness, and frankness of dealing ; and a name of certainty, and veracity ; but then they were like horses well managed ; for they could tell passing well when to stop, or turn : and at such times, when they thought the case, indeed, required dissimulation, if then they used it, it came to pass, that the former opinion, spread abroad of their good faith, and clearness of dealing, made them almost invisible. There be three degrees of this hiding, and veiling of a man's self. The first, closeness, reservation, and secrecy ; when a man leaveth himself without observation, or without hold to be taken, what he is. The second, dissimulation, in the negative ; when a man lets fall signs, and arguments, that he is not that he is. And the third, simulation, in the affirmative; when a man 12 ESSAY VI.] OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION 13 industriously, and expressly, feigns, and pretends to be that he is not. For the first of these, secrecy : it is, indeed, the virtue of a confessor ; and, assuredly, the secret man heareth many 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 confession, the revealing is not for worldly use, but for the ease of a man's heart, so secret men come to the knowledge of many things, in that kind ; while men rather discharge their minds, than impart their minds. In few words, mysteries are due to secrecy. Besides (to say truth) nakedness is uncomely, as well in mind, as body ; and it addeth no small reverence to men's manners, and actions, if they be not altogether open. As for talkers and futile persons, they are commonly vain, and credulous withal. For he that talketh what he knoweth, will also talk what he knoweth not. Therefore set it down, that 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 discovery of a man's self, by the tracts of his countenance, is a great weakness, and betraying ; by how much, it is many times more marked and believed, than a man's words. For the second, which is dissimulation. It foUoweth many times upon secrecy, by a necessity : so that, he that will be secret, must be a dissembler, in some degi'ee. For men are too cunning to suffer a man to keep an indifferent carriage between both, and to be secret, without swaying the balance, on either side. They will so beset a man with questions, and draw him on, and pick it out of him, that without an absurd silence he must show an inclination, one way ; or if he do not, they will gather as much by his silence, as by his speech. As for equivocations, or oraculous speeches, they cannot hold out long. So that no man can be secret, except he give himself a little scope of dissimulation ; which is, as it were, but the skirts or train of secrecy. But for the third degree, which is simulation, and false profession ; that I hold more culpable, and less politic ; except it be in great and rare matters. And therefore a general custom of simulation (which is this last degree) is a vice, rising, either of a natural falseness, or fearfulness ; or of a mind that hath some main faults ; which because a man must needs disguise, it maketh him practise simulation, in other things^ lest his hand should be out of ure. The great advantages of simulation and dissimulation are three. First to lay asleep opposition, and to surprise. For where a man's intentions are published, it is an 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 declaration. 14 FRANCIS BACON [essay vi. 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 hai*dly show themselves adverse ; but will (faire) 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 truth." As if there were no way of discovery, but by simulation. There be also three disadvantages, to set it even. The first, that simulation, and dissimulation, commonly carry with them a show of fearfulness, which in any business doth spoil the feathers of round flying up to the mark. The second, that it puzzleth and perplexeth the conceits of many, that perhaps would otherwise co-operate with him, and makes a man walk, almost alone, to his own ends. The third, and greatest is, that it depriveth a man of one of the most principal instruments for action ; which is trust and belief. The best composition, and temperature is, to have openness in fame and opinion ; secrecy in habit ; dissimulation in seasonable use ; and a power to feign, if there be no remedy. 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 utter the other. Children sweeten labours ; but they make mis- fortunes more bitter : they increase the cares of life ; but they mitigate the remembrance of death. The perpetuity by generation is common to beasts ; but memory, merit, and noble works, are proper to men : and surely a man shall see the noblest works, and foundations have proceeded from childless men ; which have sought to express the images of their minds ; where those of their bodies have failed : so the care of posterity is most in them that have no posterity. They that are the first raisers of their houses, are most indulgent towards their children ; beholding them, as the continuance, not only of their kind, but of their work ; and so both children, and creatures. The difference in affection, of parents, towards their several children, is many times unequal ; and sometimes unworthy ; especially in the mother ; as Salomon saith ; " A wise son rejoiceth the father ; but an ungracious son shames the mother." A man shall see, where there is a house full of children, one or two of the eldest, respected, and the youngest made wantons; but in the midst, some that are, as it were, forgotten, who, many times, nevertheless, prove the best. The illiberality of parents, m allowance towards their children, is a harmful error ; makes them base ; acquaints them with shifts ; makes them sort with mean company ; and makes them surfeit more, when they come to plenty: and therefore, the proof is best, when men keep their authority towards their children, but not their purse. Men have a foolish manner (both parents, and schoolmasters, and servants) in creating and breeding an emulation between brothers, during childhood, which many times sorteth to discord, when they are men ; and disturbeth families. The Italians make little difference between children, and nephews, or near 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, sometimes, resembleth an uncle, 16 i6 FRANCIS BACON [essay vii. or a kinsman, more than his own parent ; as the blood happens. Let parents choose betimes the vocations, and courses, they mean their children should take ; for then they are most flexible ; and let them not too much apply themselves to the disposition of their children, as thinking they will take best to that which they have most mind to. It is true, that if the affection or aptness of the children be extraordinary, then it is good not to cross it ; but generally, the precept is good; "Optimum elige^ suave et facile illud faciei consuetudo." Younger brothers are commonly fortunate, but seldom or never where the elder are disinherited. 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 unmanned, or childless men ; which, both in affection, and means, have married and endowed the public. Yet it were great reason, that those that have children, should have greatest care of future times ; unto which, they know, they must transmit their dearest pledges. Some there are, who though they lead a single life, yet their thoughts do end with themselves, and account future times impertinences. Nay, there are some other, that account wife and children but as bills of charges. Nay more, there are some foolish rich covetous men, that take a pride in having no children, because they may be thought so much the richer. For perhaps, they have heard some talk ; " Such 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 minds, which are so sensible of every restraint, as they will go near to think their girdles, and garters, to be bonds and shackles. Unmarried men are best friends ; best masters ; best servants ; but not always best subjects ; for they are light to run away ; and almost all fugitives are of that condition. A single life doth well with Churchmen: for charity will hardly water the ground where it must first fill a pool. It is indifferent for judges and magistrates ; for if they be facile, and corrupt, you shall have a servant five times worse than a wife. For soldiers, I find the generals commonly in their hortatives, put men in mind of their wives and children: and I think the despising of mamage, amongst the Turks, maketh the vulgar soldier more base. Certainly, wife and children are a kind of discipline of humanity : and single men, though they be many times more charitable, because their means are less exhaust ; yet, on the other side, they are more cruel, and hard-hearted, (good to make severe inquisitors) because their tenderness is not so oft 2 1 8 FRANCIS BACON [essay viii. called upon. Grave natures, led by custom, and therefore con- stant, are commonly loving husbands ; as was said of Ulysses ; " Vetulani suam prcetulit immortalitati. Chaste women are often proud, and froward, as presuming upon the merit of their chastity. It is one of the best bonds, both of chastity and obedience, in the wife, if she think her husband wise ; which she will never do, if she find him jealous. Wives are young men's mistresses ; companions for middle age ; and old men's nurses. So as a man may have a quarrel to marry, when he will. But yet, he was reputed one of the wise men, that made answer to the question ; When a man should marry ? "A young man not yet, an elder man not at all." It is often seen, that bad husbands have very good wives ; whether it be, that it raiseth the price of their husband's kindness, when it comes ; or that the wives take a pride in their patience. But this never fails, if the bad husbands were of their own choosing, against their friends' consent ; for then, they will be sure to make good their own folly. 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 ; especially 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, or irradiation of the eye. Nay, some have been so curious, as to note, that the times, when the stroke, or percussion of an envious eye doth most hurt, are when the party envied is beheld in glory, or triumph ; for that sets an edge upon envy ; and besides, at such times, the spirits of the person envied do come forth most into the outward parts, and so meet the blow. But leaving these curiosities, (though not unworthy to be thought on, in fit place,) we will handle what persons are apt to envy others ; what persons are most subject to be envied them- selves; and, what is the difference between public, and private envy. A man, that hath no virtue in himself, ever envieth virtue in others. For men's minds will either feed upon their own good, or upon others' evil ; and who wanteth the one, will prey upon the other ; and whoso is out of hope to attain to another's virtue, will seek to come at even hand by depressing another's fortune. A man that is busy, and inquisitive, is commonly envious : for to know much of other men's matters, cannot be, because all that ado may concern his own estate : therefore it must needs be, that he taketh a kind of play-pleasure, in looking upon the fortunes of others ; neither can he that mindeth but his own business, find much matter for envy. For envy is a gadding passion, and walketh the streets, and doth not keep home ; " Non est curiosus, quin idem sit ?nalevolus." Men of noble birth are noted to be envious tow^ards new men, 19 20 FRANCIS BACON [essay ix. 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 defocts light upon a very brave, and heroical nature ; which thinketh to make his natural wants part of his honour: in that it should be said that an eunuch, or a lame man, did such great matters ; affecting the honour of a miracle ; as it was in Narses the eunuch, and Agesilaus, and Tamberlanes, that were lame men. The same is the case of men, that rise after calamities, and misfortunes ; for they are as men fallen out with the times ; and think other men's harms a redemption of their own sufferings. They, that desire to excel in too many matters, out of levity, and vainglory, are ever envious ; for they cannot want work ; it being impossible, but many, in some one of those things, should surpass them. Which was the character of Adrian the emperor, that mortally envied poets, and painters, and artificers, in works wherein he had a vein to excel. Lastly, near kinsfolk, and fellows in office, and those that have been bred together, are more apt to envy their equals, when they are raised. For it doth upbraid unto them their own fortunes ; and pointeth at them, and cometh oftener into their remembrance, and incurreth likewise more into the note of others : and envy ever redoubleth from speech and fame. Cain's envy was the more vile, and malignant, towards his brother Abel because, when his sacrifice was better accepted, there was 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, and liberality rather. Again, envy is ever joined with the comparing of a man's self ; and where there is no comparison, no envy ; and therefore kings are not envied, but by kings. Nevertheless, it is to be noted, that unworthy persons are most envied at their first coming in, and afterwards overcome it better ; whereas contrari- wise, persons of worth, and merit are most envied when their fortune continueth long. For by that time, though their virtue be the same, yet it hath not the same lustre ; for fresh men grow up, that darken it. Persons of noble blood, are less envied, in their rising : for it seemeth but 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 ESSAY IX.] OF ENVY 21 de^ees, are less envied than those that are advanced suddenly, and per saltvm. 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 patimtir." Not that they feel it so, but only to abate the edge of envy. But this is to be understood of business that is laid upon men, and not such as they call unto themselves. For nothing increaseth envy more, than an unnecessary, and ambitious engrossing of business. And nothing doth extinguish envy more, than for a great person to preserve all other inferior officers, in their full rights, and pre-eminences, of their places. For by that means, there be so many screens between him, and envy. Above all, those are most subject to envy, which carry the greatness of their fortunes in an insolent and proud manner: being never well, but while they are showing how great they are, either by outward pomp, or by triumphing over all opposition, or competition ; whereas wise men will rather do sacrifice to envy, in suffering themselves, sometimes of purpose, to be crossed, and overborne in things, that do not much concern them. Notwith- standing, so much is true ; that the carriage of greatness, in a plain and open manner (so it be without arrogancy, and vainglory) doth draw less envy, than if it be in a more crafty, and cunning fashion. For in that course, a man doth but disavow fortune ; and seemeth to be conscious of his own want in worth ; and doth but teach others to envy him. Lastly, to conclude this part ; as we said in the beginning, that the act of envy had somewhat in it of witchcraft ; so there is no other cure of envy, but the cure of witchcraft : and that is, to remove the lot (as they call it) and to lay it upon another. For which purpose, the wiser sort of great persons, bring in ever upon the stage somebody, upon whom to derive the envy, that would come upon themselves ; sometimes upon ministers, and sei-vants ; sometimes upon colleagues and associates ; and the like ; and for that turn, there are never wanting some persons of violent and undertaking natures, who so they may have power, and business, will take it at any cost. Now to speak of public envy. There is yet some good in public envy ; whereas, in private, there is none. For public envy is as an ostracism, that eclipseth men, when they grow too great. And therefore it is a bridle also to great ones, to keep them within bounds. This envy, being in the Latin word invidia, goeth in the modem languages by the name of discontentment : of which we 22 FRANCIS BACON [essay ix. 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 tumeth them into an ill odour. And therefore, there is little won by intermingling of plausible actions. For that doth argue but a weakness, and fear of envy, which hurteth so much the more, as it is likewise usual in infections ; which if you fear them, you call them upon you. This public envy seemeth to beat chiefly upon principal officers, or ministers, rather than upon kings, and estates themselves. But this is a sure rule, that if the envy upon the minister be great, when the cause of it, in him, is small ; or if the envy be general, in a manner, upon all the ministers of an estate ; then the envy (though hidden) is truly upon the state itself. And so much of public envy or discontentment, and the difference thereof from private envy, which was handled in the first place. We will add this, in general, touching the affection of envy ; that of all other affections, it is the most importunate and continual. For of other affections there is occasion given but now and then : and therefore, it was well said, " Invidia festos dies non agit." For it is ever working upon some, or other. And it is also noted, that love and envy do make a man pine, which other affections do not ; because they are not so continual. It is also the vilest affection, and the most depraved; for which cause, it is the proper attribute of the devil, who is called ; " the envious man, that soweth tares amongst the wheat by night." As it always cometh to pass, that envy worketh subtly, and in the dark ; and to the prejudice of good things, such as is the wheat. OF LOVE THE stage is more beholding to love, than the life of man. For as to the stage, love is ever matter of comedies, and now and then of tragedies : but in life, it doth much mischief: some- times like a siren ; sometimes like a fury. You may observe, that amongst all the great and worthy persons, (whereof the memory remaineth, either ancient or recent) there is not one, that hath been transported to the mad degree of love : which shows, that great spirits, and great business, do keep out this weak passion. You must except, nevertheless, Marcus Antonius the half- partner of the Empire of Rome; and Appius Claudius the decemvir, and lawgiver: whereof the former was indeed a voluptuous man, and inordinate ; but the latter was an austere, and wise man : and therefore it seems (though rarely) that love can find entrance, not only into an open heart ; but also into a heart well fortified ; if watch be not well kept. It is a poor saying of Epicurus ; " Satis magnuin alter alteri theatrum suvuis : *' as if man, made for the contemplation of heaven, and all noble objects, should do nothing but kneel before a little idol, and make himself subject, though not of the mouth (as beasts are) yet of the eye ; which was given him for higher purposes. It is a strange thing, to note the excess of this passion ; and how it braves the nature, and value of things ; by this, that the speaking in a perpetual hyperbole is comely in nothing, but in love. Neither is it merely in the phrase ; for whereas it hath been well said, that the arch-flatterer, with whom all the petty flatterers have intelligence, is a man's self; certainly, the lover is more. For there was never proud man thought so absurdly well of himself, as the lover doth of the person loved : and therefore, it was well said, that it is impossible to love, and to be wise. Neither doth this weakness appear to others only, and not to the party loved ; but to the loved, most of all : except the love be reciproque. For, it is a true rule, that love is ever rewarded, either with the reciproque, or with an inward, and secret contempt. By how much the more, men ought to beware of this passion, which loseth not only other things, but itseff. As for the other 2S 24 FRANCIS BACON [essay x. losses, the poet's relation doth well figure them; that he that preferred Helena quitted the gifts of Juno, and Pallas. For whosoever esteemeth too much of amorous affection quitteth both riches, and wisdom. This passion hath his floods, in the very times of weakness ; which are, great prosperity ; and great ad- versity ; though this latter hath been less observed. Both which times kindle love, and make it more fervent, and therefore show it to be the child of folly. They do best, who, if they cannot but admit love, yet make it keep quarter : and sever it wholly from their serious affairs, and actions of life : for if it check once with business, it troubleth men's fortunes, and maketh men that they can no ways be true to their own ends. I know not how, but martial men are given to love: I think it is but as they are given to wine ; for perils commonly ask to be paid in pleasures. There is in man's nature a secret inclination, and motion, towards love of others ; which, if it be not spent, upon some one, or a few, doth naturally spread itself, towards many ; and maketh men become humane, and charitable ; as it is seen sometimes in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind; friendly love perfecteth it; but wanton love corrupteth, and imbaseth it XI OF GREAT PLACE MEN in great place are thrice servants : servants of the sovereign or state ; servants of fame ; and servants of business. So as they have no freedom ; neither in their persons ; nor in their actions ; nor in their times. It is a strange desire, to seek power, and to lose liberty ; or to seek power over others, and to lose power over a man's self. The rising unto place is laborious ; and by pains men come to greater pains ; and it is sometimes base ; and by indignities, men come to dignities. The standing is slippery, and the regress is either a downfall, or at least an eclipse, which is a melancholy thing. ** Cum non sis, quifueris, non esse, cur velis vivere." Nay, retire men cannot, when they would ; neither will they, when it were reason : but are impatient of privateness, even in age, and sickness, which require the shadow : Hke old townsmen, that will be still sitting at their street door ; though thereby they offer age to scorn. Certainly great pei*sons had need to borrow other men's opinions, to think themselves happy ; for if they judge by their own feeling, they cannot find it : but if they think with themselves, what other men think of them, and that other men would fain be as they are, then they are happy, as it were by report; when perhaps they find the contrary within. For they are the first, that find their own griefs ; though they be the last, that find their own faults. Certainly, men in great fortunes are strangers to themselves, and, while they are in the puzzle of business, they have no time to tend their health, either of body, or mind. " Illi mors gravis incubai, qui Tiotus nimis omnibus, igiiotus moritur sibi." In place, there is licence to do good, and evil ; whereof the latter is a cui*se ; for in evil, the best condition is, not to will ; the second, not to can. But power to do good is the true and lawful end of aspiring. For good thoughts (though God accept them,) yet towards men, are little better than good dreams ; except they be put in act ; and that cannot be vdthout power, and place ; as the vantage, and commanding ground. Merit, and good works, is the end of man's motion ; and conscience of the same is the accomplishment of man's rest. For if a man can be partaker of 26 26 FRANCIS BACON [essay xi. God's theatre, he shall likewise be partaker of God's rest. " Et con- verstisDeus, tit aspiceret opera , quce fccerunt manus suae, vidit quod omnia essent bona nimis ; " and then the Sabbath. In the discharge of thy place, set before thee the best examples ; for imitation is a globe of precepts. And after a time, set before thee thine own example ; and examine thyself strictly, whether thou didst not best at first. Neglect not also the examples of those, that have carried 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, 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 institu- tion, and observe, wherein, and how, they have degenerated ; but yet ask counsel of both times; of the ancient times, 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. Pre- serve the right of thy place ; but stir not questions of jurisdiction : and rather assume thy right, in silence, and de facto, than voice it, with claims, and challenges. Preserve likewise the rights of inferior places ; and think it more honour to direct in chief, than to be busy in all. Embrace, and invite helps, and advices, touching the execution of thy place ; and do not drive away such as bring thee information, as meddlers ; but accept of them in good part. The vices of authority are chiefly four : delays ; corruption ; roughness ; and facility. For delays ; give easy access ; keep times appointed. Go through with that which is in hand ; and interlace not business, but of necessity. For corruption ; do not only bind thine own hands, or thy servants' hands, from taking; but bind the hands of suitors also from offering. For integrity used doth the one ; but integrity professed, and with a manifest detestation of bribery, doth the other. And avoid not only the fault, but the suspicion. Whosoever is found variable, and changeth manifestly, without manifest cause, giveth suspicion of corruption. Therefore, always, when thou changest thine opinion, or course, profess it plainly, and declare it, together with the reasons, that move thee to change ; and do not think to steal it. A servant, or a favourite, if he be inward, and no other apparent cause of esteem, is commonly thought but a by-way to close corruption. For roughness ; it is a needless cause of dis- content: severity breedeth fear, but roughness breedeth hate. Even reproofs from authority ought to be grave, and not taunting. As for facility ; it is worse than bribery. For bribes come but now and then ; but if importunity, or idle respects lead a man, he shall never be without. As Salomon saith; "To respect persons, is not good ; for such a man will transgress for a piece of ESSAY XI.] OF GREAT PLACE 27 bread." It is most true, that was anciently spoken ; " A place showeth the man : " and it showeth some to the better, and some to the worse : " Omnium consensu^ capaa: imperii nisi imperassct ; " saith Tacitus of Galba : but of Vespasian he saith : " Soltu imper- antivm Vespasianus mutatus in melius." Though the one was meant of sufficiency, the other of manners, and affection. It is an assured sign, of a worthy and generous spirit, whom honour amends. For honour is, or should be, the place of virtue: and as in nature, things move violently to their place, and calmly in their place : so virtue in ambition is violent, in authority settled and calm. All rising to great place is by a winding stair : and if there be factions, it is good to side a man's self, whilst he is in the rising; and to balance himself, when he is placed. Use the memory of thy predecessor fairly, and tenderly ; for if thou dost not, it is a debt will sure be paid, when thou art gone. If thou have colleagues, respect them, and rather call them, when they look not for it, than exclude them, when they have reason to look to be called. Be not too sensible, or too remembering, of thy place, in con- versation, and private answers to suitors ; but let it rather be said ; " When he sits in place, he is another man." 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, elocution, and the rest : nay almost alone, as if it were all in all. But the reason is plain. There is in human nature, generally, more of the fool than of the wise ; and therefore those faculties, by which the foolish part of men's minds is taken, are most potent. Wonderful like is the case of boldness, in civil business ; what first ? Boldness ; what second, and third ? Boldness. And yet boldness is a child of ignorance, and base- ness, far inferior to other parts. But nevertheless, it doth fascinate, and bind hand and foot, those, that are either shallow in judgment ; or weak in courage, which are the greatest part ; yea, and prevaileth with wise men, at weak times. Therefore, we see it hath done wonders, in popular states ; but with senates and princes less ; and more ever upon the first entrance of bold persons into action, than soon after ; for boldness is an ill keeper of promise. Surely, as there are mountebanks for the natural body : so are there mountebanks for the politic body : men that undertake great cures ; and perhaps have been lucky, in two or three experiments, but want the grounds of science ; and therefore cannot hold out. Nay you shall see a bold fellow, many times, do Mahomet's miracle. Mahomet made the people believe, that he would call an hill to him ; and from the top of it, offer up his prayers, for the observers of his law. The people assembled ; Mahomet called the hill to come to him, again, and again ; and when the hill stood still, he was never a whit abashed, but said ; " If the hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the hill." So these men, when they have promised great matters, and failed most shamefully, (yet if they have the perfection of 28 ESSAY XII.] OF BOLDNESS 29 boldness) they will but slight it over, and make a turn, and no more ado. Certainly, to men of great judgment, bold persons are a sport to behold ; nay and to the vulgar also, boldness 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 bash- fulness, the spirits do a little go and come ; but with bold men, upon like occasion, they stand at a stay ; like a stale at chess, where it is no mate, but yet the game cannot stir. But this last were fitter for a satire, than for a serious observation. This is well to be weighed ; that boldness is ever blind : for it seeth not 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. XIII OF GOODNESS AND GOODNESS OF NATURE I TAKE goodness in this sense, the affecting of the weal of men, which is that the Grecians call phila7ithropia ; and the word humanity (as it is used) is a little too light, to express it. Good- ness 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 inclination to goodness is imprinted deeply in the nature of man : insomuch, that if it issue not towards men, it will take unto other living creatures : as it is seen in the Turks, a cruel people, who, nevertheless, are kind to beasts, and give alms to dogs, and birds : insomuch, as Busbechius report eth, a Christian boy in Constantinople had like to have been stoned for gagging, in a waggishness, a long-billed fowl. Errors, indeed, in this virtue of goodness, or charity, may be committed. The Italians have an ungracious proverb ; " Tanto huon che val niente : " " So good, that he is good for nothing." And one of the doctors of Italy, Nicholas Macciavel, had the confidence to put in writing, almost in plain terms : " that the Christian faith had given up good men, in prey, to those that are tyrannical, and unjust." Which he spake, because indeed there was never law, or sect, or opinion, did so much magnify goodness, as the Christian religion doth. Therefore to avoid the scandal, and the danger both, it is good to take knowledge of the eiTors of a habit so excellent. Seek the good of other men, but be not in bondage to their faces, or fancies ; for that is but facility, or softness ; which taketh an honest mind prisoner. Neither give thou iEsop's cock a gem, who would be better pleased, and happier, if he had had a barley-corn. The example of God teach eth the lesson truly : " He sendeth His rain, and maketh His sun to shine, upon the just, and unjust ; " but He doth not rain wealth, nor shine honour, and virtues, upon 30 ESSAY XIII.] GOODNESS OF NATURE 31 men equally. Common benefits are to be communicate with all ; but peculiar benefits, with choice. And beware, how, in making the portraiture, thou breakest the pattern : for divinity maketh the love of ourselves the pattern ; the love of our 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, wherein thou mayest do as much good, with little means, as with great : for other- wise, 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 disposition towards it : as, on the other side, there is a natural malignity. For there be, that in their nature do not affect the good of others. The lighter sort of malignity tumeth but to a crossness, or frowardness, or aptness to oppose, or difficilness, or the like ; but the deeper sort, to envy, and mere mischief. Such men, in other men's calamities, are, as it were, in season, and are ever on the loading part ; not so good as the dogs, that licked Lazarus' sores ; but like flies, that are still buzzing, upon anything that is raw ; misanthropes, that make it their practice to bring men to the bough ; and yet have never a tree, for the purpose, in their gardens, as Timon had. Such dis- positions are the very eiTors of human nature : and yet they are the fittest timber to make great politiques of: like to knee- timber, that is good for ships, that are ordained to be tossed ; but not for building houses, that shall stand firm. The parts and signs of goodness are many. If a man be gracious, and courteous to strangers, it shows he is a citizen of the world ; and that his heart is no island, cut off from other lands ; but a continent, that joins to them. If he be compassionate, towards the afflictions of others, it shows that his heart is like the noble tree, that is wounded itself when it gives the balm. If he easily pardons and remits offences, it shows, that his mind is planted above injuries, so that he cannot be shot. If he be thankful for small benefits, it shows, that he weighs men's minds, and not their trash. But above all, if he have St. Paul's perfection, that he would wish to be an anathema from Christ, for the salvation of his brethren, it shows much of a divine nature, and a kind of conformity with Christ Himself. XIV OF NOBILITY WE will speak of nobility, first as a portion of an estate ; then as a condition of particular persons. A monarchy, where there is no nobility at all, is ever a pure, and absolute tyranny ; as that of the Turks. For nobility attempers sovereignty, and draws the eyes of the people somewhat aside from the line royal. But for democracies, they need it not ; and they are commonly more quiet, and less subject to sedition, than where there are stirps of nobles. For men's eyes are upon the business, and not upon the persons : or if upon the persons, it is for the business' sake, as fittest, and not for flags and pedigree. We see the Switzers last well, notwithstanding their diversity of religion, and of cantons. For utility is their bond, and not respects. The united provinces of the Low Countries, in their government, excel : for where there is an equality, the consultations are more indifferent, and the pay- ments and tributes more cheerful. A great and potent nobility addeth majesty to a monarch, but diminisheth power ; and putteth life and spirit into the people, but presseth their fortune. It is well, when nobles are not too great for sovereignty, nor for justice ; and yet maintained in that height, as the insolence 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 and weathers of time. For new nobility is but the act of power ; but ancient nobility is the act of time. Those that are first raised to nobility are commonly more virtuous, but less innocent, than their descendants : for there is, rarely, any rising, but by a commixture of good and evil arts. But it is reason the memory of their virtues remain to their posterity ; and their faults die with them- ESSAY XIV.] OF NOBILITY 33 selves. Nobility of birth commonly abateth industry: and he that is not industrious envieth him that is. Besides, noble persons cannot go much higher ; and he that standeth at a stay, when others rise, can hardly avoid motions of envy. On the other side, nobility extinguisheth the passive envy from others towards them ; because they are in possession of honour. Certainly kmgs^ 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 bom in some sort to command. XV OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES SHEPHERDS of people had need know the calendars of tempests in state ; which are commonly greatest when things grow to equality; as natural tempests are greatest about the ^quinoctia. And as there are certain hollow blasts of wind, and secret swellings of seas, before a tempest, so are there in states : * ' lUe etiam cacos instare tumultus Seepe monet, fraudesque, et operta tumescere bdla.^^ Libels, and licentious discourses against the state, when they are frequent and open ; and in like sort, false news, often running up and down, to the disadvantage of the state, and hastily embraced ; are amongst the signs of troubles. Virgil, giving the pedigree of Fame, saith she was sister to the giants. ^^ lUam terra parens ira irriiata dear urn ^ Extremam {ut perhibent) cao enceladoque sororem Progenuit." As if fames were the relics of seditions past ; but they are no less, indeed, the preludes of seditions to come. Howsoever, he noteth it right, that seditious tumults, and seditious fames, differ no more but as brother and sister, masculine and feminine ; especially, if it come to that, that the best actions of a state, and the most plausible, and which ought to give greatest contentment, are taken in ill sense, and traduced : for that shows the envy great, as Tacitus saith ; " Conjiata magna invidia, seu bene, sen male, gestapre- munt." Neither doth it follow, that because these fames are a sign of troubles, that the suppressing of them, with too much severity, should be a remedy of troubles. For the despising of them, many times, checks them best ; and the going about to stop them, doth but make a wonder long-lived. Also that kind of obedience, which Tacitus speaketh of, is to be held suspected ; " Erant in officio, sed tamen qui mallent mandata impera7itium interpretari, qudm exequi;" disputing, excusing, cavilling upon mandates and direc- tions, is a kind of shaking off the yoke, and assay of disobedience : especially, if in those disputings, they, which are for the direction, 84 ESSAY XV.] OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES 35 speak fearfully, and tenderly ; and those that are against it, audaciously. Also, as Macciavel noteth well, when princes, that ought to be common parents, make themselves as a party, and lean to a side, it is as a boat that is overthrown, by uneven weight, on the one side ; as was well seen, in the time of Henry the Third of France : for first, himself entered league for the extirpation of the Protestants ; and presently after, the same league was turned upon himself. For when the authority of princes is made but an accessary to a cause ; and that there be other bands, that tie faster than the band of sovereignty, kings begin to be put almost out of possession. Also, when discords, and quarrels, and factions, are earned openly, and audaciously ; it is a sign the reverence of government is lost. For the motions of the greatest persons, in a government, ought to be as the motions of the planets, under primum mobile ; (according to the old opinion :) which is, that every of them is carried swiftly, by the highest motion, and softly in their own motion. And therefore, when great ones, in their own particular motion, move violently, and, as Tacitus expresseth it well, " Liberiiis, qudm id imperantiuin meminissent ; " it is a sign the orbs are out of frame. For reverence is that wherewith princes are girt from God ; who threateneth the dissolving thereof ; ^' Solvam cingula I'egum." So when any of the four pillars of government are mainly shaken, or weakened (which are religion, justice, counsel, and treasure,) men had need to pray for fair weather. But let us pass from this part of predictions, (concerning which, nevertheless, more light may be taken, from that which followeth ;) and let us speak first of the materials of seditions ; then of the motives of them ; and thirdly of the remedies. Concerning the materials of seditions. It is a thing well to be considered : for the surest way to prevent seditions, (if the times do bear it,) is to take away the matter of them. For if there be fuel prepared, it is hard to tell whence the spark shall come, that shall set it on fire. The matter of seditions is of two kinds ; much poverty, and much discontentment. It is certain, so many overthrown estates, so many votes for troubles. Lucan noteth well the state of Rome, before the Civil War. ^^ Hinc usura vorax, rapidumque in tempore fttnui^ Hinc concuss a Jides, et mult is utile helium." This same multis utile bellunij is an assured and infallible sign of a state disposed to seditions, and troubles. And if this poverty, and broken estate, in the better sort, be joined with a want and necessity, in the mean people, the danger is imminent, and great. For the rebellions of the belly are the worst. As for discontent- 36 FRANCIS BACON [essay xv. ments, they are in the politic body, like to humours in the natural, which are apt to gather a preternatural heat, and to inflame. And let no prince measure the danger of them, by this ; whether they be just or unjust ? For that were to imagine people to be too reasonable ; who do often spurn at their own good : nor yet by this ; whether the griefs, whereupon they rise, be in fact, great or small : for they are the most dangerous discontentments, where the fear is greater than the feeling. " Dolefidi modus, timendi iion item." Besides, in great oppressions, the same things that provoke the patience, do withal mate the courage : but in fears it is not so. Neither let any prince, or state, be secui'e concerning discontentments, because they have been often, or have been long and yet no peril hath ensued ; for as it is true, that eveiy vapour, or fume, doth not turn into a storm; so it is, nevertheless, true, that storms, though they blow over divers times, yet may fall at last ; and as the Spanish proverb noteth well ; " The cord breaketh at the last by the weakest pull." The causes and motives of seditions are ; innovation in religion ; taxes ; alteration of laws and customs, breaking of privileges ; general oppression ; advancement of unworthy persons ; strangers ; dearths ; disbanded soldiers ; factions grown desperate ; and whatsoever in offending people joineth and knitteth them in a common cause. For the remedies ; there may be some 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 spoke ; which is want and poverty in the estate. To which purpose, serveth the opening, and well-balancing of trade ; the cherishing of manufactures ; the banishing of idleness ; the repressing of waste and excess by sumptuary laws ; the improvement and husbanding of the soil ; the regulating of prices of things vendible ; the moderating of taxes and tributes ; and the like. Generally, it is to be foreseen, that the population of a kingdom, (especially if it be not mown down by wars) do not exceed the stock of the kingdom, which should maintain them. Neither is the population to be reckoned only by number : for a smaller number, that spend more, and earn less, do wear out an estate sooner than a greater number, that live lower, and gather more. Therefore the multi- plying of nobility, and other degrees of quality, in an over pro- portion to the common people, doth speedily bring a state to necessity : and so doth likewise an overgrown clergy ; for they bring nothing to the stock ; and in like manner, when more are bred scholars than preferments can take off. It is likewise to be remembered, that forasmuch as the ESSAY XV.] OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES 37 increase of any estate must be upon the foreigner, (for whatso- ever is somewhere gotten, is somewhere lost) there be but three things which one nation selleth unto another ; the commodity as nature yieldeth it ; the manufacture ; and the vecture or carriage. So that if these three wheels go, wealth will flow as in a spring tide. And it cometh many times to pass, that " matcriam super- ohit opus;" that the work, and carriage, is more worth than the material, and enricheth a state more ; as is notably seen in the Low Countrymen, who have the best mines, above ground, in the world. Above all things, good policy is to be used that the treasure and moneys, in a state, be not gathered into few hands. For otherwise, a state may have a great stock, and yet starve. And money is like muck, not good except it be spread. This is done, chiefly, by suppressing, or at the least, keeping a strait hand, upon the devouring trades of usury, engrossing, great pasturages, and the like. For removing discontentments, or at least, the danger of them ; there is in every state (as we know) two portions of subjects ; the noblesse, and the commonalty. When one of these is discontent, the danger is not great ; for common people are of slow motion, if they be not excited by the greater sort ; and the greater sort are of small strength, except the multitude be apt and ready to move of themselves. Then is the danger, when the greater sort do but wait for the troubling of the watei-s amongst the meaner, that then they may declare themselves. The poets feign, that the rest of the gods would have bound Jupiter ; w hich he hearing of, by the counsel of Pallas, sent for Briareus, with his hundred hands, to come in to his aid. An emblem, no doubt, to show, how safe it is for monarchs to make sure of the goodwill of common people. To give moderate liberty for griefs, and discontentments to evaporate, (so it be without too great insolence or bravery) is a safe way. For he that tumeth the humours back, and maketh the wound bleed inwards, endangereth malign ulcers, and pernicious impostumations. 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 entertain- ing of hopes, and carrying men from hopes to hopes; is one of the best antidotes against the poison of discontentments. And it is a cei*tain 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 38 FRANCIS BACON [essay xv. persons, and factions, are apt enough to flatter themselves, or at least to brave, that which they believe not. Also, the foresight, and prevention, that there be no likely or fit head, whereunto discontented persons may resort, and under whom they may join, is a known, but an excellent point of caution. I understand a fit head, to be one that hath greatness, and reputa- tion ; that hath confidence with the discontented party ; and upon whom they turn their eyes ; and that is thought discontented in his own particular ; which kind of persons are either to be won, and reconciled to the state, and that in a fast and true manner ; or to be fronted with some other of the same party, that may oppose them, and so divide the reputation. Generally, the dividing and breaking of all factions, and combinations that are adverse to the state, and setting them at distance, or at least distrust amongst themselves, is not one of the worst remedies. For it is a desperate case if those, that hold with the proceeding of the state, be full of discord and faction ; and those that are against it, be entire and united. I have noted, that some witty and sharp speeches, which have fallen from princes, have given fire to seditions. Caesar did himself infinite hurt, in that speech ; " Sylla nescivit literas, non potuit dictare : " for it did, utterly, cut off" that hope, which men had entertained, that he would, at one time or other, give over his dictatorship. Galba undid himself, by that speech ; " Legi a se milUeiny non emi : " for it put the soldiers out of hope of the donative. Probus likewise, by that speech : " Si vixero, non opus erit amplius Romano imperio militibus." A speech of great despair, for the soldiers : and many the like. Surely, princes had need, in tender matters, and ticklish times, to beware what they say ; especially in these short speeches, which fly abroad like darts, and are thought to be shot out of their secret intentions. For as for large discourses, they are flat things, and not so much noted. Lastly, let princes, against all events, not be without some great person, one, or rather more, of military 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 troubles, than were fit. And the state runneth the danger of that, which Tacitus saith ; " Atque is habitus anirnorum fuit, ut pessimum facinus auderent pauci plures vellent, omnes paterentur." But let such military persons be assured, and well reputed of, rather than factious, and popular; holding also good correspondence with the other great men in the state ; or else the remedy is worse than the disease. 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 miracle to convince atheism, because His ordinary works convince it. It is true, that a little philosophy inclineth man's mind to atheism ; but depth in philosophy bringeth men's minds about to religion : for while the mind of man looketh upon second causes scattered, it may sometimes rest in them, and go no further ; but when it beholdeth the chain of them, confederate and linked together, it must needs fly to Providence, and Deity. Nay even that school, which is most accused of atheism, doth most demonstrate religion ; that is, the school of Leucippus, and Democritus, and Epicurus. For it is a thousand times more credible, that four mutable ele- ments, and one immutable fifth essence, duly and eternally placed, need no God ; than that an army, of infinite small portions, or seeds unplaced, should have produced this order, and beauty, without a divine marshal. The Scripture saith ; " The fool hath said in his heart. There is no God : " it is not said ; " The fool hath thought in his heart : " so as, he rather saith it by rote to himself, as that he would have, than that he can thoroughly believe it, or be persuaded of it. For none deny there is a God but those for whom it maketh that there were no God. It appeareth in nothing more that atheism is rather in the lip, than in the heart of man, than by this ; that atheists will ever be talking of that their opinion, as if they fainted in it, within themselves, and would be glad to be strengthened, by the consent of others : nay more, you shall have atheists strive to get disciples, as it fareth with other sects : and, which is most of all, you shall have of them, that will suffer for atheism and not recant ; whereas, if they did truly think, that there were no such thing as God, why should they trouble themselves r Epicurus is charged, that he did but dissemble, for his credit's sake, when he affirmed ; there were blessed natures, but such as enjoyed themselves, without having respect to the government of the world. Wherein, they say, he did temporise ; though in secret, he thought there was no God. But certainly, he is traduced ; for his words are noble and divine : " Non deos 40 FRANCIS BACON [essay xvi. rnlgi negare profannm ; sed vulgi opmiones diis appUcare profanum." Plato could have said no more. And although he had the con- fidence to deny the administration, he had not the power to deny the nature. The Indians of the West have names for their particular gods, though they have no name for God : as if the heathens should have had the names Jupiter, Apollo, Mars, etc. But not the word T>eus : which shows, that even those barbarous people have the notion, though they have not the latitude, and extent of it. So that against atheists, the very savages take part ■with the very subtlest philosophers. The contemplative atheist is rare ; a Diagoras, a Bion, a Lucian perhaps, and some others ; and yet they seem to be more than they are ; for that, all that impugn a received religion, or superstition, are, by the adverse part, branded with the name of atheists. But the great atheists, indeed, are hypocrites ; which are ever handling holy things, but without feeling. So as they must needs be cauterised in the end. The causes of atheism are ; divisions in religion, if they be many ; for any one main division addeth zeal to both sides ; but many divisions introduce atheism. Another is, scandal of priests ; when it is come to that which St. Bernard saith ; " is on est jam dicere, ut popultis, sic sacerdos : quia nee sic populus, ut sacerdos," A third is, custom of profane scoffing in holy matters ; which doth, by little and little, deface the reverence of religion. And lastly, learned times, specially with peace, and prosperity : for troubles and adversities do more bow men's minds to religion. They that deny a God, destroy man's nobility : for certainly, man is of kin to the beasts, by his body ; and if he be not of kin to God, by his spirit, he is a base and ignoble creature. It destroys likewise mag- nanimity, and the raising of human nature : for take an example of a dog ; and mark what a generosity, and courage he will put on, when he finds himself maintained by a man ; who to him is instead of a God, or melior natura : which courage is manifestly such, as that creature, without that confidence of a better nature than his own, could never attain. So man, when he resteth and assureth himself upon divine protection, and 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 conscnpti, nos amemus, tamen nee mimero Hispanos, nee robore Gallos, nee eallidiiate Pcenos, nee artibus Grceeos, nee denique hoc ipso hujus genfis et terrce domestieo nativoque sensii Italos ipsos et Latinos; sed pietate, ac religione, atque hdc und sapientid, quod deorum immortalium numine, omnia regi, gubernarique perspeximus, omnes gentes nationesque super- avimus." XVII OF SUPERSTITION T T 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 tlie Deity. Plutarch saith well to that purpose : " Surely," saith he, " I had rather, a great deal, men should say, there was no such man, at all, as Plutarch ; than that they should say, that there was one Plutarch, that would eat his children, as soon as they were bom, as the poets speak of Satume." 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 states ; for it makes men wary of themselves, as looking no further: and we see the times in- clined to atheism (as the time of Augustus Caesar) were civil times. But superstition hath been the confusion of many states ; and bringeth in a new primum mobile, that ravisheth all the spheres of government. The master of superstition is the people ; and in all superstition, wise men follow fools ; and arguments are fitted to practice, in a reversed order. It was gravely said, by some of the prelates, in the Council of Trent, where the doctrine of the school- men bore great sway ; " that the schoolmen were like astronomers, which did feign eccentrics and epicycles, and such engines of orbs, to save the phenomena ; though they knew there were no such things : " and, in like manner, that the schoolmen, had framed a number of subtle and intricate axioms, and theorems, to save the practice of the Church. The causes of superstition are : pleasing and sensual rites and ceremonies: excess of outward and Pharisaical holiness ; 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 inten- tions, which openeth the gate to conceits and novelties ; the taking an aim at divine matters by human, which cannot but breed mixture of imaginations ; and lastly, barbarous times, especially 41 42 FRANCIS BACON [essay xvii. joined with calamities and disasters. Superstition, without a veil, is a deformed thing ; for, as it addeth defoi*mity to an ape to be so like a man ; so the similitude of superstition to religion makes it the more deformed. And as wholesome meat corrupteth to little worms ; so good forms and orders corrupt into a number ot petty obsei*vances. There is a superstition in avoiding supersti- tion ; when men think to do best, if they go furthest from the superstition formerly received : therefore, care would be had, that, (as it fareth in ill-purgings) the good be not taken away with the bad ; which commonly is done, when the people is the reformer. XVIII OF TRAVEL TRAVEL, in the younger sort, is a part of education ; in the elder, a part of experience. He that travelleth into a country, before he hath some entrance into the language, goeth to school, and not to travel. That young men travel under some tutor, or grave servant, I allow well ; so that he be such a one that hath the language, and hath been in the country before; whereby he may be able to tell them what things are worthy to be seen in the country where they go ; what acquaintances they are to seek ; what exercises or discipline the place yieldeth. For else young men shall go hooded, and look abroad little. It is a strange thing, that in sea-voyages, where there is nothing to be seen but sky and sea, men should make diaries ; but in land- travel, wherein so much is to be observed, for the most part they omit it ; as if chance were fitter to be registered than observation. Let diaries, therefore, be brought in use. The things to be seen and observed are : the courts of princes, specially 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 : exchanges : burses ; ware- houses : exercises of horsemanship ; fencing ; training of soldiers ; and the like : comedies ; such whereunto the better sort of persons do resort ; treasuries of jewels, and robes ; cabinets, and rarities : and to conclude, whatsoever is memorable in the places where they go. After all which, the tutors or servants ought to make diligent inquiry. As for triumphs ; masks ; feasts ; weddings ; funerals ; capital executions ; and such shows ; men need not to be put in mind of them ; yet are they not to be neglected. If you will have a young man to put his travel into a little room, and in short time to gather much, this you must do. First, as was said, he must have some entrance into the language, before 43 44 FRANCIS BACON [essay xviii. he goeth. Then he must have such a servant, or tutor, as knoweth the country, as was hkewise said. Let him cany with him also some card or book describing the country where he travelleth ; which will be a good key to his inquiry. Let him keep also a diary. Let him not stay long in one city, or town ; more or less as the place deserveth, but not long : nay, when he stayeth in one city or town, let him change his lodging, from one end and part of the town to another ; which is a great adamant of acquaint- ance. Let him sequester himself from the company of his country- men, 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 secretaries, and employed men of ambassadors ; for so in travelling in one country he shall suck the experience of many. Let him also see and visit eminent persons, in all kinds, which are of great name abroad ; that he may be able to tell, how the life agreeth with the fame. For quarrels, they are with care and discretion to be avoided : they are, commonly, for mistresses ; healths ; place ; and words. And let a man beware, how he keepeth company with choleric and quarrelsome persons ; for they will engage him into their own quarrels. When a traveller retumeth home, let him not leave the countries, where he hath travelled, altogether behind him; but maintain a correspondence, by letters, with those of his acquaint- ance which are of most worth. And let his travel appear rather in his discourse, than in his apparel, or gesture : and in his dis- course, let him be rather advised in his answers, than forward to tell stories : and let it appear, that he doth not change his country manners, for those of foreign parts ; but only prick in some flowers, of that he hath learned abroad, into the customs of his own country. 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 of kings ; who, being at the highest, want matter of desu*e, which makes their minds more languishing ; and have many representa- tions of perils and shadows, which make their minds the less clear. And this is one reason also of that effect which the Scrip- ture speaketh of; "that the king's heart is inscrutable." For multitude of jealousies, and lack of some predominant desire, that should marshal and put in order all the rest, maketh any man's heart hard to find, or sound. Hence it comes likewise, that princes, many times, make themselves desires, and set their hearts upon toys : sometimes upon a building ; sometimes upon erecting of an order ; sometimes upon the advancing of a pereon ; some- times upon obtaining excellency in some art, or feat of the hand ; as Nero for playing on the harp, Domitian for cei*tainty of the hand with the arrow, Commodus for playing at fence, Caracalla for driving chariots, and the Hke. This seemeth incredible unto those that know not the principle ; " That the mind of man is more cheered, and refreshed, by profiting in small things, than by standing at a stay in great." We see also that kings, that have been fortunate conquerors in their first years ; it being not possible for them to go forward infinitely, but that they must have some check or arrest in their fortunes ; turn, in their latter years, to be superstitious and melancholy : as did Alexander the Great ; Dioclesian ; and in our memory, Charles the Fifth ; and others : for he that is used to go forward, and findeth a stop, falleth out of his own favour, and is not the thing he was. To speak now of the true temper of empire : it is a thing rare, and hard to keep : for both temper and distemper consist of contraries. But it is one thing to mingle contraries, another to interchange them. The answer of Apollonius to Vespasian is full of excellent instruction ; Vespasian asked him ; " What was Nero's overthrow ? " He answered ; " Nero could touch and tune the harp well ; but in government, sometimes he used to wind the pins too high, sometimes to let them down too low." And certain it is. 46 FRANCIS BACON [essay xix. that nothing destroyeth authority so much as the unequal and untimely interchange of power pressed too far, and relaxed too much. This is true ; that the wisdom of all these latter times in princes' affairs is rather fine deliveries, and shiftings of dangers and mischiefs, when they are near; than solid and grounded courses to keep them aloof. But this is but to try masteries with fortune : and let men beware, how they neglect, and suffer matter of trouble to be prepared : for no man can forbid the spark, nor tell whence it may come. The difficulties in princes' business are many and great ; but the greatest difficulty is often in their own mind. For it is common with princes, (saith Tacitus) to will contradictories. " Sunt plerumque regum voluntates vekementes, et inter se contrarice." For it is the solecism of power, to think to command the end, and yet not to endure the mean. Kings have to deal with their 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 ; and from all these arise dangers, if care and circum- spection 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 they become more able to annoy them than they were. And this is, generally, the work of standing counsels to foresee, and to hinder it. During that triumvirate of kings. King Henry the Eighth of England, Francis the First, King of France, and Charles the Fifth, Emperor, there was such a watch kept, that none of the three could win a palm of ground, but the other two would straightways balance it, either by confederation, or, if need were, by a war : and would not, in anywise, 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 Sforza, potentates, the one of Florence, the other of Millaine. Neither is the opinion, of some of the schoolmen, to be received ; "that a war cannot justly be made, but upon a precedent injury or provocation." For there is no question, but a just fear of an imminent danger, though there be no blow given, is a lawful cause of a war. For their wives ; there are cruel examples of them. Livia is infamed for the poisoning of her husband : Roxolana, Solyman's wife, was the destruction, of that renowned prince, Sultan Mustapha ; and otherwise troubled his house, and succession : Edward the Second of England, his queen, had the principal hand in the deposing and murder of her husband. This kind of danger ESSAY XIX.] OF EMPIRE 47 is then to be feared, chiefly, when the wives have plots for the mising of their own children ; or else that they be advoutresses. For their children : the tragedies, likewise, of dangers from them have been many. And generally, the entering of fathers into suspicion of their children hath been ever unfortunate. The destruction of Mustapha, (that we named before) was so fatal to Solyman's line, as the succession of the Turks, from Solyman, until this day, is suspected to be unti*ue, and of strange blood ; for that Selymus the Second was thought to be supposititious. The destruction of Crispus, a young prince of rare towardness, by Constantinus the Great, his father, was in like manner fatal to his house ; for both Constantinus, and Constance, his sons, died violent deaths ; and Constantius his other son, did little better ; who died, indeed, of sickness, but after that Julianus had taken amis against him. The destruction of Demetrius, son to Philip the Second, of Macedon, turned upon the father, who died of repentance. And many like examples there are: but few, or none, where the fathers had good by such distrust ; except it were, where the sons were up, in open arms against them ; as was Sel\nnus the First against Bajazet : and the three sons of Henrj' the Second, King of England. For their prelates ; when they are proud and great, there is also danger from them : as it was, in the times of Anselmus, and Thomas Becket, Archbishops of Canterbury ; who, with their crosiars, did almost try it with the king's sword ; and yet they had to deal with stout and haughty kings ; William Rufus, Henry the First, and Henry the Second. The danger is not from that state but where it hath a dependence of foreign authority ; or where the Churchmen come in, and are elected, not by the colla- tion of the king, or particular patrons, but by the people. For their nobles ; to keep them at a distance, it is not amiss ; but to depress them, may make a king more absolute, but less safe ; and less able to perform anything that he desires. I have noted it, in my History of King Henry the Seventh, of England, who depressed his nobility ; whereupon, it came to pass, that his times were full of 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 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 countei-poise to the higher nobility, that they grow not too potent : and lastly, being the most immediate in authority, with the common people, they do best temper popular commotions. For their merchants ; they are vena poHa ; and, if they flourish not, a kingdom may have good limbs, but will have empty veins. 48 FRANCIS BACON [essay xix. and nourish little. Taxes, and imposts upon them, do seldom good to the king's revenue ; for that that he wins in the hundred, he loseth in the shire ; the particular rates being increased, but the total bulk of trading rather decreased. For their commons ; there is little danger from them, except it be where they have great and potent heads ; or where you meddle with the point of religion ; or their customs, or means of life. For their men of war ; it is a dangerous state where they live and remain in a body, and are used to donatives ; whereof we see 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 hke 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 : " Memento quod es homo ; " and " Meme7ito quod es Deus," or " vice Dei ; " the one bridleth their power, and the other their wilL 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 His blessed Son, " the Counsellor." Salomon hath pronounced, that *'in counsel is stability." Things will have their first, or second agitation ; if they be not tossed upon the arguments of counsel, they will be tossed upon the waves of fortune; and be full of inconstancy, doing, and undoing, like the reeling of a di-unken man. Salomon'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 in- struction, the two marks, whereby bad counsel is, for ever, best discerned : that it was young counsel, for the persons ; and violent counsel, for the matter. The ancient times do set forth in figure both the incorporation, and inseparable conjunction of counsel with kings ; and the wise and poHtic 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 foUoweth, 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. Which monstrous fable con- taineth a secret of empire ; how kings are to make use of their coimcil of state. That first, they ought to refer matters unto them, which is the first begetting or impregnation ; but when they are elaborate, moulded, and shaped, in the womb of their council, and grow ripe, and ready to be brought forth ; that then, 4 so FRANCIS BACON [essay xx. they suffer not their council to go through with the resolution, and direction, as if it depended on them; but take the matter back into their own hands, and make it appear to the world, that the decrees, and final directions, (which, because they come forth with prudence, and power, are resembled to Pallas armed) pro- ceeded 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 reveal- ing of affairs, whereby they become less secret. Secondly, the weakening of the authority of princes, as if they were less of themselves. Thirdly, the danger of being unfaithfully counselled, and more for the good of them that counsel than of him that is counselled. For which inconveniences, the doctrine of Italy, and practice of France, in some kings' times, hath introduced cabinet councils ; a remedy worse than the disease. As to secrecy ; princes are not bound to communicate all matters, \vith all counsellors ; but may extract and select. Neither is it necessary, that he that consulteth what he should do, should declare what he will do. But let princes beware, that the unsecreting of their affairs comes not from themselves. And as for cabinet councils, it may be their motto ; " Plenus rimarum Sinn." One futile person, that maketh it his glory to tell, will do more hurt than many, that know it their duty to conceal. It is true, there be some affairs which require extreme secrecy, which will hardly go beyond one or two persons, besides the king: neither are those counsels unprosperous : for besides the secrecy, they commonly go on constantly in one spirit of direction, without distraction. But then it must be a prudent king, such as is able to grind with a hand-mill ; and those inward counsellors had need also be wise men, and especially true and trusty to the king's ends ; as it was with King Henry the Seventh of England, who in his greatest business imparted himself to none, except it were to Morton and Fox. For weakening of authority; the fable showeth the remedy. Nay, the majesty of kings is rather exalted, than diminished, when they are in the chair of counsel : neither was there ever prince bereaved of his dependencies, by his council ; except where there hath been, either an over-greatness in one counsellor, or an over-strict combination in divers ; which are things soon found, and holpen. For the last inconvenience, that men will counsel with an eye to themselves ; certainly, " Non wveniet fid em super terram " is meant of the nature of times, and not of all particular persons ; ESSAY XX.] OF COUNSEL 51 there be, that are in nature, faithful, and sincere, and plain, and direct ; not crafty, and involved : let princes, above all, draw to themselves such natures. Besides, counsellors are not commonly so united, but that one counsellor keepeth sentinel over another ; so that if any do counsel out of faction, or private ends, it com- monly comes to the king's ear. But the best remedy is if princes know their counsellors, as well as their counsellors know them : *' Pr'mcipu est virtus maxima nosse suos.'* And on the other side, counsellors should not be too specu- lative into their sovereign's person. The true composition of a counsellor is rather to be skilful in their master's business, than in his nature : for then he is like to advise him, and not 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; and in consort, 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, as in an idea, or mathematical description, what the kind and character of the person should be ; for the greatest errors are committed, and the most judgment is shown, in the choice of individuals. It was truly said ; " Optimi consiliarii mortui ; " books will speak plain, when counsellors blanch. Therefore it is good to be conversant in them; specially the books of such as themselves have been actors upon the stage. The 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 the next day; "In nocte consilium.** So was it done, in the commission of union between England and Scotland ; which was a grave and orderly assembly. I commend set days for petitions : for both it gives the suitors more certainty for their attendance; and it frees the meetings for matters of estate, that they may hoc agere. In choice of committees, for ripen- ing business for the council, it is better to choose indifferent persons, than to make an indifferency, by putting in those that are strong, on both sides. I commend also standing commissions ; as for trade ; for treasure ; for war ; for suits ; for some provinces : for where there be divers particular councils, and but one council of 52 FRANCIS BACON [essay xx. estate, (as it is in Spain) they are in effect no more than standing commissions ; save that they have greater authority. Let such as are to inform councils, out of their particular professions, (as lawyers, seamen, mintmen, 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 manner ; for that is to clamour councils, not to inform them. A long table, and a square table, or seats about the walls, seem things of form, but are things of substance ; for at a long table, a few at the upper end, in effect, sway all the business ; but in the other form, there is more use of the counsellors' opinions that sit lower. A king, when he presides in council, let him beware how he opens his own inclination too much, in that which he propoundeth : for else counsellors will but take the wind of him; and instead o/ giving free counsel, sing him a song of Placebo. XXI OF DELAYS FORTUNE is like the market ; where many times, if you can stay a little, the price will fall. And again, it is sometimes like Sybilla's offer ; which at first offereth the commodity at full, then consumeth part and part, and still holdeth up the price. For occasion (as it is in the common verse) tumeth a bald noddle, after she hath presented her locks in front, and no hold taken ; or at least turneth the handle of the bottle first to be received, and after the belly, which is hard to clasp. There is surely no greater wisdom than well to time the beginnings, and onsets of things. Dangers are no more light, if they once seem light : and more dangers have deceived men, than forced them. Nay, it were better to meet some dangers half-way, though they come nothing near, than to keep too long a watch upon their approaches ; for if a man watch too long, it is odds he will fall asleep. On the other side, to be deceived, with too long shadows, (as some have been, when the moon was low, and shone on their enemies' back) and so to shoot off before the time ; or to teach dangers to come on, by over-early buckling towards them, is another extreme. The ripeness, or unripeness, of the occasion (as we said) must ever be well weighed ; and generally, it is good to commit the beginnings of all great actions to Argos with his hundred eyes ; and the ends to Briareus with his hundred hands : first to watch, and then to speed. For the helmet of Pluto, which maketh the politic man go invisible, is, secrecy in the counsel, and celerity in the execution. For when things are once come to the execution, there is no secrecy comparable to celerity ; like the motion of a bullet in the air, which flieth so swift, as it outruns the eye. 98 XXII OF CUNNING WE take cunning for a sinister or crooked wisdom. And certainly, there is 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 the old rule, to know a fool from a wise man ; " Mitte umbos nudos ad ignotos, et videbis;" doth scarce hold for them. And because these cunning men are like haberdashers of small wares it is not amiss to set forth their shop. It is a point of cunning to wait upon him with whom you speak, with your eye ; as the Jesuits give it in precept : for there be many wise men that have secret hearts, and transparent countenances. Yet this would be done with a demure abasing of your eye sometimes, as the Jesuits also do use. Another is, that when you have anything to obtain of present despatch, you entertain, and amuse the party, with whom you deal, with some other discourse ; that he be not too much awake, to make objections. I knew a counsellor and secretary, that never came to Queen Elizabeth of England, with bills to sign, but he would always first put her into some discourse of estate, that she might the less mind the bills. The like surprise may be made by moving things, when the party is in haste, and cannot stay to consider advisedly of that is moved. If a man would cross a business that he doubts some other would handsomely and 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, 64 ESSAY XXII.] OF CUNNING 55 as if he took himself up, breeds a greater appetite in him with whom you confer to know more. And because it works better, when anything seemeth to be gotten from you by question, than if you offer it of yourself, you may lay a bait for a question, by showing another visage and countenance than you are wont ; to the end, to give occasion for the party to ask, what the matter is of the change? As Nehemias did ; " And I had not before that time been sad before the king." In things that are tender and unpleasing, it is good to break the ice by some whose words are of less weight, and to reserve the more weighty voice, to come in, as by chance, so that he may be asked the question upon the other's speech. As Narcissus did, in relating to Claudius the marriage of Messalina and Sihus. In things that a man would not be seen in, himself; it is a point of cunning to borrow the name of the world ; as to say ; " The world says," or, " There is a speech abroad." I knew one, that when he wrote a letter, he would put that which was most material in the postscript, as if it had been a by-matter. I knew another, that when he came to have speech, he would pass over that that he intended most, and go forth, and come back again, and speak of it as of a thing that he had almost forgot. Some procure themselves to be surprised, at such times, as, it is like, the party that they work upon, will suddenly come upon them : and to be found with a letter in their hand, or doing somewhat which they are not accustomed ; to the end, they may be apposed of those things which of themselves they are desirous to utter. It is a point of cunning, to let fall those words in a man's o\Mi name, which he would have another man learn, and use, and thereupon take advantage. I knew two, that were com- petitors for the secretary's place, in Queen Elizabeth's time, and yet kept good quarter between themselves ; and would confer, one with another, upon the business ; and the one of them said, that to be a secretary, in the declination of a monarchy, was a ticklish thing, and that he did not affect it : the other, straight caught up those words, and discoursed with divers of his friends, that he had no reason to desire to be secretary, in the declination of a monarchy. The first man took hold of it, and found means it was told the Queen ; who hearing of a declination of a monarchy, took it so ill as she would never after hear of the other's suit. There is a cunning, which we in England call " the turning of the cat in the pan ; " which is, when that which a man says to another, he lays it as if another had said it to him. And to say 56 FRANCIS BACON [essay xxii. 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 Tigillinus did towards BuiThus ; " Se non diversas speSj sed incolumitatem imperatoris simpliciter spectare." Some have in readiness so many tales and stories, as there is nothing they would insinuate but they can wrap it into a tale : which serveth both to keep themselves more in guard, and to make others carry it with more pleasure. It is a good point of cunning, for a man to shape the answer he would have in his own words, and propositions ; for it makes the other party stick the less. It is strange, how long some men will lie in wait to speak somewhat they desire to say ; and how far about they will fetch ; and how many other matters they will beat over, to come near it. It is a thing of great patience, but yet of much use. A sudden, bold, and unexpected question, doth many times sur- prise a man, and lay him open. Like to him, that having changed his name, and walking in Paul's, another suddenly came behind him, and called him by his true name, whereat straightways he looked back. But these small wares, and petty points of cunning, are in- finite : and it were a good deed to make a list of them : for that nothing doth more hurt in a state than that cunning men pass for wise. But certainly, some there are that know the resorts and falls of business, that cannot sink into the main of it : like a house that hath convenient stairs, and entries, but never a fair room. Therefore, you shall see them find out pretty looses in the con- clusion, but are no ways able to examine, or debate matters. And yet commonly they take advantage of their inability, and would be thought wits of direction. Some build rather upon the abusing of others, and (as we now say) putting tricks upon them ; than upon soundness of their own proceedings. But Salomon saith; " Prudens advertit ad gressus suos : stultus divertit ad dohs" XXIII OF WISDOM FOR A MAN'S SELF A N ant is a wise creature for itself ; but it is a shrewd thing in -^^ an orchard, or garden. And certainly, men that are great lovers of themselves waste the public. Divide with reason between self-love, and society : and be so true to thyself, as thou be not false to others ; .' pecially 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 them to his own ends : which must needs be often eccentric to the ends of his master, or state. Therefore let princes, or states, choose such servants, as have not this mark; except they mean their service should be made but the 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 prefeiTed before the master's ; but yet it is a greater extreme, when a little good of the servant shall carry things, against a great good of the master's. And yet that is the case of bad officers, treasurers, ambassadors, generals, and other false and corrupt servants ; which set a bias upon their bowl, of their own petty ends, and envies, to the overthrow of their master's great and important affairs. And for the most part, the good such servants receive is after the model of their own fortune ; but the hurt they sell for that good is after the model of their master's fortune. And certainly, it is the nature of extreme self- lovers ; as they will set a house on fire, and it were but to roast their eggs : and yet these men, many times, hold credit with their master's ; because their study is but to please them, and profit themselves : and, for either respect, they will abandon the good of their affairs. Wisdom for a man's self is, in many branches thereof, a 67 58 FRANCIS BACON [essay xxiii. depraved thing. It is the wisdom of rats, that will be sure to leave a house somewhat before it fall. It is the wisdom of the fox, that thrusts out the badger who digged and made room for him. It is the wisdom of crocodiles, that shed tears when they would devour. But that which is specially to be noted, is, that those which (as Cicero says of Pompey) are " Sui amantes sine rivali," are many times unfortunate. And whereas they have all their 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. XXIV 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, alter things to the worse, and wisdom, and counsel shall not alter them to the better, what shall be the end ? It is true, that what is settled by custom, though it be not good, yet at least it is fit. And those things which have long gone together are as it were confederate within themselves : whereas new things piece not so well ; but though they help by their utility, yet they trouble by their inconformity. Besides, they are like strangers ; more admired, and less favoured. All this is true, if time stood still ; which contrariwise moveth so round, that a froward retention of custom is as turbulent a thing as an innovation : and they that reverence too much old times are but a scorn to the new. It were good therefore, that men in their innovations would follow the example of time itself ; which indeed innovateth greatly, but quietly, and by degrees, scarce to be per- ceived : for otherwise, whatsoever is new is unlooked for ; and ever it mends some, and pairs other : and he that is holpen takes it for a fortune, and thanks the time ; and he that is hurt, for a wrong, and imputeth it to the author. It is good also, not to try experiments in states; except the necessity be urgent, or the utility evident: and well to beware, that it be the reformation that draweth on the change ; and not the desire of change that pretendeth the reformation. And lastly, that the novelty, though it be not rejected, yet be held for a suspect : and, as the Scripture saith ; " that we make a stand upon the ancient way, and then look about us, and discover, what is the straight, and right way, and so to walk in it." (9 XXV OF DESPATCH AFFECTED despatch is one of the most dangerous things to business that can be. It is like that which the physicians call predigestion, or hasty digestion ; which is sure to fill the body full of crudities, and secret seeds of diseases. Therefore, measure not despatch, by the times of sitting, but by the advancement of the business. And as in races, it is not the large stride, or high lift, that makes the speed : so in business, the keeping close to the matter, and not taking of it too much at once, procureth despatch. It is the care of some only to come off speedily, for the time ; or to contrive some false periods of business, because they may seem men of despatch. But it is one thing, to abbreviate by contracting, another by cutting off: and business so handled at several sittings or meetings, goeth commonly backward and forward, in an unsteady manner. I knew a wise man, that had it for a byword, when he saw men hasten to a conclusion ; " Stay a little, that we may make an end the sooner." On the other side, time despatch 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 despatch. The Spartans, and Spaniards, have been noted to be of small despatch : " Mi venga la muerte de Spagna ; " let my death come from Spain ; for then it will be sure to be long in coming. Give good hearing to those, that give the first information in business ; and rather direct them in the beginning, than interrupt them in the continuance of their speeches : for he that is put out of his own order, will go forward and backward, and be more tedious while he waits upon his memory, than he could have been, if he had gone on, in his own course. But sometimes it is seen that the moderator is more troublesome than the actor. Iterations are commonly loss of time: but there is no such gain of time as to iterate often the state of the question : for it chaseth away many a frivolous speech, as it is coming forth. Long and curious speeches are as fit for despatch, as a robe or mantle with a long train is for race. Prefaces, and passages, and excusations, and other speeches of reference to the person, are ESSAY XXV.] OF DESPATCH 6i great wastes of time ; and though they seem to proceed of modesty, they are bravery. Yet beware of being too material, when there is any impediment or obstruction in men's wills ; for preoccupation of mind ever requireth preface of speech ; like a fomentation to make the unguent enter. Above all things, order, and distribution, and singling out of parts, is the life of despatch ; so as the distribution be not too subtle : for he that doth not divide will never enter well into busmess ; and he that divideth too much will never come out of it clearly. To choose time, is to save time ; and an imseasonable 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 despatch, 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 despatch : for though it should be wholly rejected, yet that negative is more pregnant of direction than an indefinite ; as ashes are more generative than dust. 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;" so certainly, there are in point of wisdom, and sufficiency, that do nothing or little, very solemnly; "Magna conatu nugas." It is a ridiculous thing, and fit for a satire, to persons of judgment, to see what shifts these formalists have, and what prospectives, to make superficies to seem body, that hath depth and bulk. Some are so close and reserved, as they will not show their wares, but by a dark light; and seem always to keep back somewhat: and when they know within themselves, they speak of that they do not well know, would nevertheless seem to others, to know of that which they may not well speak. Some help themselves with countenance, and gesture, and are wise by signs; as Cicero saith of Piso, that when he answered him, he fetched one of his brows up to his forehead, and bent the other down to his chin: " Respondes, altera ad frantem sublata, altera ad mentum depressa supercilia ; crudehtatem tibi nan placer e.'* Some think to bear it by speaking a great word, and being peremptory; and go on, and take by admittance that which they cannot make good. Some, whatsoever is beyond their reach, will seem to despise or make light of it, as impertinent, or curious ; and so would have their ignorance seem judgment. Some are never without a difference, and commonly by amusing men with a subtlety, blanch the matter; of whom A. Gellius saith ; " Hamvnen delirum, qui verharum minutiis rerum frangit pondera." Of which kind also, Plato in his Pratagaras bringeth in Prodicus, in scorn, and maketh him make a speech, that consisteth of distinctions from the beginning to the end. Generally, such men in all 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: ESSAY XXVI.] OF SEEMING WISE 63 which false point of wisdom is the bane of business. To con- clude, there is no decaying merchant, or inward beggar, hath so many tricks, to uphold the credit of their wealth, as these empty persons have, to maintain the credit of their sufficiency. Seeming wise men may make shift to get opinion : but let no man choose them for employment; for certainly, you were better take for business a man somewhat absurd, than over formal. 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." For it is most true, that a natural and secret hatred, and aversation towards society, in any man, hath some- what of the savage beast ; but it is most untrue, that it should have any character, at all, of the divine nature ; except it proceed, not out of a pleasure in solitude, but out of a love and desire to sequester a man's self for a higher conversation : such as is found to have been falsely and feignedly in some of the heathen ; as Epimenides the Candian, Numa the Roman, Empedocles the Sicilian, and Apollonius of Tyana; and truly and really, in divers of the ancient hermits, and holy fathers of the Church. But little do men perceive what solitude is and how far it extend eth. For a crowd is not company ; and faces are but a gallery of pictures ; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love. The Latin adage meeteth with it a little ; " Magna civitas, magna solitudo ; " because in a great town friends are scattered ; so that there is not that fellowship, for the most part, which is in less neighbourhoods. But we may go further, and affirm most truly; that it is a mere, and miserable solitude, to want true friends ; without which the world is but a wilderness : and even in this sense also of solitude, whosoever in the frame of his nature and affections is unfit for friendship, he taketh it of the beast, and not from humanity. A principal fruit of friendship is the ease and discharge of the fulness and swellings of the heart, which passions of all kinds do cause and induce. We know diseases of stoppings, and suffocations, are the most dangerous in the body; and it is not much otherwise in the mind : you may take sarza to open the liver ; steel to open the spleen ; 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, suspicions, counsels, and whatsoever lieth €4 ESSAY XXVII.] OF FRIENDSHIP 65 upon the heart, to oppress it, in a kind of civil shrift or con- fession. It is a strange thing to observe, how high a rate great kings and monarchs, do set upon this fruit of friendship, whereof we speak : so great, as they purchase it, many times, at the hazard of their own safety, and greatness. For princes, in regard of the distance of their fortune, from that of their subjects and servants, cannot gather this fruit ; except (to make themselves capable thereof) they raise some persons, to be as it were companions, and almost equals to themselves, which many times sorteth to inconvenience. The modem 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 oftentimes 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 sumamed the Great) to that height, that Pompey vaunted himself for Sylla' s overmatch. For when he had carried the consulship for a friend of his, against the pursuit of Sylla, and that Sylla did a little resent thereat, and began to speak great, Pompey turned upon him again, and in effect bade him be quiet ; "for that more men adored the sun rising, than the sun setting." With Julius Caesar, Decimus Brutus had obtained that interest, as he set him down, in his testament, for heir in remainder, after his nephew. And this was the man that had power with him to draw him forth to his death. For when Caesar would have discharged the senate, in regard of some ill presages, and specially a dream of Calpumia, 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. And it seemeth, his favour was so great, as Antonius in a letter, which is recited verbatim, in one of Cicero's Philippics, calleth him venerea, witch ; as if he had enchanted Caesar. Augustus raised Agrippa (though of mean birth) to that height, as when he consulted with Maecenas, about the mamage 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 gi^eat." 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 ; " Hcec pro amicitid nostrd non occultavi." And the 5 66 FRANCIS BACON [essay xxvii. whole senate dedicated an altar to friendship, as to a goddess, in respect of the great deamess of friendship between them two. The like or more was between Septimius Severus, and Plautianus. For he forced his eldest son to marry the daughter of Plautianus ; and would often maintain Plautianus, in doing affronts to his son : and did write also in a letter to the senate, by these words ; " I love the man so well, as I wish he may over- live me." Now if these princes had been as a Trajan, or a Marcus Aurelius, a man might have thought that this had proceeded of an abundant goodness of nature ; but being men so wise, of such strength and severity of mind, and so extreme lovers of themselves, as all these were ; it proveth most plainly, that they found their own felicity (though as great as ever happened to mortal men) but as a half- piece, except they might have a friend to make it entire : and yet, which is more, they were princes that had wives, sons, nephews ; and yet all these could not supply the comfort of friendship. It is not to be forgotten, what Commineus observeth, of his first master Duke Charles the Hardy; namely, that he would communicate his secrets with none ; and, least of all, those secrets which troubled him most. Whereupon he goeth on, and saith, that towards his latter time ; " that closeness did impair, and a little perish his understanding." Surely Commineus might have made the same judgment also, if it had pleased him, of his second master Lewis the Eleventh, whose closeness was indeed his tormentor. The parable of Pythagoras is dark, but true ; " Cor ne edito " (" eat not the heart "). Certainly, if a man would give it a hard phrase, those that want friends to open themselves unto are cannibals of their own hearts. But one thing is most admirable, (wherewith I will conclude this first fruit of friendship) which is, that this communicating of a man's self to his friend, works two contrary effects ; for it redoubleth joys, and cutteth griefs in halves. For there is no man, that imparteth his joys to his friend, but he joyeth the more; and no man, that imparteth his griefs to his friend, but he grieveth the less. So that it is, in truth of operation upon a man's mind, of like virtue as the alchemists use to attribute to their stone for man's body ; that it worketh all contrary effects, but still to the good, and benefit of nature. But yet, without praying in aid of alchemists, there is a manifest image of this in the ordinary course of nature. For in bodies union strengtheneth and cherisheth any natural action ; and, on the other side, weakeneth and dulleth any violent impression: and even so is it of minds. The second fruit of friendship is healthful and sovereign for the understanding, as the first is for the affections. For friendship maketh indeed a fair day in the affections, from storm and ESSAY XXVII.] OF FRIENDSHIP t-j tempests; but it maketh daylight in the understanding, out of darkness and confusion of thoughts. Neither is this to be understood only of faithful counsel, which a man receiveth from his friend ; but before you come to that, certain it is, that whosoever hath his mind fraught with many thoughts, his wits and understanding do clarify and break up, in the communicating and discoursing with another: he tosseth his thoughts more easily ; he marshalleth them more orderly ; he seeth how they look when they are turned into woixls ; finally, he waxeth wiser than himself; and that more by an hour's discourse, than by a day's meditation. It was well said by Themistocles to the King of Persia ; " That speech was like cloth of Arras, opened, and put abroad ; whereby the imagery doth appear in figure ; whereas in thoughts, they lie but as in packs." Neither is this second fruit of friendship, in opening the understanding, restrained only to such friends as are able to give a man counsel : (they indeed are best) but even, without that, a man leameth of himself, and bringeth his own thoughts to light, and whetteth his wits as against a stone, which itself cuts not. In a word, a man were better relate himself to a statue, or picture, than to suffer his thoughts to pass in smother. Add now, to make this second fruit of friendship complete, that other point, which lieth more open, and falleth within vulgar observation ; which is faithful counsel from a friend. Heraclitus saith well, in one of his enigmas ; " Dry light is ever the best." And certain it is, that the light that a man receiveth by counsel from another, is drier, and purer, than that which cometh from his own understanding, and judgment ; which is ever infused and drenched in his affections and customs. So as, there is as much difference between the counsel that a friend giveth, and that a man giveth himself, as there is between the counsel of a friend, and of a flatterer. For there is no such flatterer as is a man's self ; and there is no such remedy, against flattery of a man's self, as the liberty of a friend. Counsel is of two sorts ; the one concerning manners, the other concerning business. For the first ; the best preservative to keep the mind in health is the faithful admonition of a friend. The calling of a man's self to a strict account is a medicine sometime too piercing and coiTosive. Reading good books of morality is a little flat, and dead. Ob- serving our faults in others is sometimes improper for our case. But the best receipt (best (I say) to work, and best to take) is the admonition of a friend. It is a strange thing to behold, what gross errors, and extreme absurdities, many (especially of the greater sort) do commit, for want of a friend, to tell them of them ; to the great damage, both of their fame and fortune. For, as St. James saith, they are as men, "that look sometimes into a glass, and presently forget their own shape, and favour." 68 FRANCIS BACON [essay xxvii. As for business, a man may think, if he will, that two eyes see no more than one ; or that a gamester seeth always more than a looker-on ; or that a man in anger is as wise as he that hath said over the four-and-twenty letters ; or that a musket may be shot off as well upon the arm, as upon a rest ; and such other fond and high imaginations, to think himself all in all. But when all is done, the help of good counsel is that which setteth business straight. And if any man think that he will take counsel, but it shall be by pieces ; asking counsel in one business of one man, and in another business of another man ; it is well, (that is to say, better perhaps than if he asked none at all ;) but he runneth two dangers : one, that he shall not be faithfully counselled ; for it is a rare thing, except it be from a perfect and entire friend, to have counsel given, but such as shall be bowed and crooked to some ends, which he hath that giveth it. The other, that he shall have counsel given, hurtful and unsafe, (though with good meaning) and mixed, partly of mischief, and partly of remedy : even as if you would call a physician, that is thought good, for the cure of the disease you complain of, but is unacquainted with your body ; and therefore, may put you in way for a present cure, but over- throweth your health in some other kind ; and so cure the disease, and kill the patient. But a friend, that is wholly acquainted with a man's estate, will beware by furthering any present business how he dasheth upon other inconvenience. And therefore, rest not upon scattered counsels ; they will rather distract, and mislead, than settle and direct. After these two noble fruits of friendship (peace in the affections, and support of the judgment,) foUoweth the last fruit ; which is like the pomegranate, full of many kernels ; I mean aid, and bearing a part, in all actions, and occasions. Here, the best way to represent to life the manifold use of friendship is to cast and see how many things there are which a man cannot do himself ; and then it will appear, that it was a sparing speech of the ancients to say " That a friend is another himself : " for that a friend is far more than himself. Men have their time, and die many times in desire of some things which they principally take to heart ; the bestowing of a child, the finishing of a work, or the like. If a man have a true friend, he may rest almost secure that the care of those things will continue after him. So that a man hath as it were two lives in his desires. A man hath a body, and that body is confined to a place ; but where friendship is, all offices of life are as it were granted to him, and his .deputy. For he may exercise them by his friend. How many things are there which a man cannot, with any face or comeliness, say or do himself? A man can scarce allege his own merits with modesty, much less extol them : a man cannot sometimes brook to suppli- cate or beg: and a number of the like. But all these things ESSAY XXVII.] OF FRIENDSHIP 69 are graceful in a friend's mouth, which are blushing in a man's own. So again, a man's person hath many proper relations, which he cannot put off. A man cannot speak to his son, but as a father ; to his wife, but as a husband ; to his enemy, but upon terms : whereas a friend may speak, as the case requires, and not as it sorteth with the person. But to enumerate these things were endless : I have given the rule, where a man cannot fitly play his own part : if he have not a friend, he may quit the stage. 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 may be as well for a man's country as for the kingdom of heaven. But ordinary expense ought to be limited by a man's estate ; and governed with such regard as it be within his compass ; and not subject to deceit and abuse of servants ; and ordered to the best show, that the bills may be less than the estimation abroad. Certainly, if a man will keep but of even hand, his ordinary expenses ought to be but to the half of his receipts ; and if he think to wax rich, but to the third part. It is no baseness for the greatest to descend and look into their own estate. Some forbear it, not upon negligence alone, but doubting to bring themselves into melancholy, in respect they shall find it broken. But wounds cannot be cured without searching. He that cannot look into his own estate at all, had need both choose well those whom he employeth, and change them often : for new are more timorous, and less subtle. He that can look into his estate but seldom, it 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 as interest. Besides, he that clears at once will relapse ; for, finding himself out of straits, he will revert to his customs : but he that cleareth by degrees induceth a habit of frugality, and gaineth as well upon his mind, as upon his estate. Certainly, who hath a state to repair, may not despise small things : and commonly, it is less dishonourable to abridge petty charges than to stoop to petty gettings. A man ought warily to begin charges which once begun will continue : but in matters that return not he may be more magnificent. 70 XXIX OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES THE speech of Themistocles the Athenian, which was haughty and arrogant, in taking so much to himself, had been a grave and wise observation and censure, appHed at large to others. Desired at a feast to touch a lute, he said ; " He could not fiddle, but yet he could make a small town, a great city." These words (holpen a little with a metaphor) may express two differing abilities, in those that deal in business of estate. For if a true survey be taken, of counsellors and statesmen, there may be found (though rarely) those, which can make a small state great, and yet cannot fiddle: as on the other side, there will be found a great many, that can fiddle very cunningly, but yet are so far from being able to make a small state great, as their gift lieth the other way ; to bring a great and flourishing estate to ruin and decay. And certainly, 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 ad- vancement of the state, which they serve. There are also (no doubt) counsellors and governors, which may be held sufficient, (negotiis pares,) able to manage affairs, and to keep them from precipices, and manifest inconveniences ; which, nevertheless, are far from the ability to raise and amplify an estate, in power, means, and fortune. But be the workmen what they may be, let us speak of the work ; that is ; the true greatness of kingdoms and estates ; and the means thereof. An argument fit for great and mighty princes to have in their hand ; to the end, that neither by over-measuring their forces, they leese themselves in vain enterprises ; nor on the other side, by undei-valuing them, they descend to fearful and pusillanimous counsels. The greatness of an estate in bulk and territory doth fall under measure ; and the greatness of finances and revenue doth fall under computation. The population may appear by musters : and the number and greatness of cities and towns by cards and maps. But yet there is not anything amongst civil affairs more 71 72 FRANCIS BACON [essay xxix. subject to error than the right valuation, and true judgment, concerning the power and forces of an estate. The kingdom of heaven is compared, not to any great kernel or nut, but to a grain of mustard-seed ; which is one of the least grains, but hath in it a property and spirit hastily to get up and spread. So are there states, great in temtory, and yet not apt to enlarge, or command ; and some, that have but a small dimension of stem, and yet apt to be the foundations of great monarchies. Walled towns, stored arsenals and armouries, 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 dis- position of the people be stout and warlike. Nay number (itself) in armies importeth not much, where the people is of weak courage : for (as Virgil saith) " it never troubles a wolf, how many the sheep be." The army of the Persians, in the plains of Arbela, was such a vast sea of people, as it did somewhat astonish the commanders in Alexander's army ; who came to him therefore, and wished him to set upon them by night; but he answered, " he would not pilfer the victory." And the defeat was easy. When Tigranes the Annenian, being encamped upon a hill, with 400,000 men, discovered the army of the Romans, being not above 14,000, marching towards him, he made himself merry with it, and said ; " Yonder men are too many for an embassage, and too few for a fight." But before the sun set, he found them enough to give him the chase, with infinite slaughter. Many are the examples of the great odds between number and courage : so that a man may truly make a judgment ; that the principal point of greatness in any state is to have a race of military men. Neither is money the sinews of war, (as it is trivially said) where the sinews of men's arms, in base and effeminate people, are failing. For Solon said well to Croesus (when in ostentation he showed him his gold) " Sir, if any other come, that hath better iron than you, he will be master of all this gold." Therefore let any prince or state think soberly of his forces, except his militia of natives be of good and valiant soldiers. And let princes, on the other side, that have subjects of martial disposition, know their own strength ; unless they be otherwise wanting unto themselves. As for mercenary forces, (which is the help in this case) all examples show ; that, whatsoever estate or prince doth rest upon them, he may spread his feathers for a time, but he will mew them soon after. The blessing of Judah and Issachar will never meet ; that the same people or nation should be both the lion's whelp, and the ass between 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 in the excises of the Low ESSAY XXIX.] OF THE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS 73 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 con- sent, or by imposing, be all one to the purse, yet it works diversely upon the courage. So that you may conclude ; that no people, overcharged with tribute, is fit for empire. Let states that aim at greatness take heed how their nobility and gentlemen do multiply too fast. For that maketh the common subject grow to be a peasant, and base swain, driven out of heart, and in effect but the gentleman's 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 hundred poll will be fit for a helmet : especially as to the infantry, which is the nerve of an army : and so there will be great population, and little strength. This, which I speak of, hath been nowhere better seen than by comparing of England and France ; whereof England, though far less in territory and population, hath been (neverthe- less) an overmatch ; in regard, the middle people of England make good soldiers, which the peasants of France do not. And herein, the device of King Henry the Seventh, (whereof I have spoken largely in the history of his life) was profound, and admir- able ; in making farms, and houses of husbandry, of a standard ; that is, maintained with such a proportion of land unto them as may breed a subject to live in convenient plenty, and no servile condition ; and to keep the plough in the hands of the owners, and not mere hirelings. And thus indeed, you shall attain to Virgil's character, which he gives to ancient Italy. " Turra pottns armis atque ubere glebaJ** Neither is that state (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 noways inferior unto the yeomanry for anus. And therefore, out of all question, the splendour, and magnificence, and great retinues, and hospitality of noblemen, and gentlemen, received into custom, doth much conduce unto martial greatness. Whereas, contrariwise, the close and reserved living of noblemen, and gentle- men, causeth a penury of military forces. By all means, it is to be procured, that the trunk of Nebuchad- nezzar's tree of monarchy be great enough to bear the branches and the boughs ; that is, that the natural subjects of the crown or state, bear a sufficient proportion to the stranger subjects that they govern. Therefore all states, that are liberal of naturalisa- tion towards strangers^ are fit for empiie. For to think, that a 74 FRANCIS BACON [essay xxix. handful of people can, with the greatest courage, and policy in the world, embrace too large extent of dominion, it may hold for a time, but it will fail suddenly. The Spartans were a nice people, in point of naturalisation ; whereby, while they kept their compass, they stood firm ; but when they did spread, and their boughs were becommen too great for their stem, they became a windfall upon the sudden. Never any state was, in this point, so open to receive strangers, into their body, as were the Romans. Therefore it sorted with them accordingly ; for they grew to the greatest monarchy. Their manner was, to grant naturalisation, (which they called jtis civitalis) and to grant it in the highest degree ; that is, not only jus commercii, jus connubii, jus hoereditatis ; but also jus suffragii, and jus honorum. And this, not to singular persons alone, but likewise to whole families ; yea, to cities, and sometimes to nations. Add to this, their custom of plantation of colonies; whereby the Roman plant was removed into the soil of other nations. And, putting both constitutions together, you will say, that it was not the Romans that spread upon the world ; but it was the world that spread upon the Romans : and that was the sure way of greatness. I have marvelled sometimes at Spain, how they clasp and contain so large dominions, with so few natural Spaniards : but sure, the whole compass of Spain is a very great body of a tree ; far above Rome, and Sparta, at the first. And besides, though they have not had that usage, to naturalise liberally; yet they have that which is next to it; that is, to employ, almost indifferently, all nations, in their militia of ordinary soldiers: yea, and sometimes in their highest com- mands. Nay, it seemeth at this instant, they are sensible of this want of natives ; as by the pragmatical sanction, now published, appeareth. It is certain, that sedentary, and within-door arts, and delicate manufactures (that require rather the finger, than the arm) have, in their nature, a contrariety to a military disposition. And generally, all warlike people are a little idle ; and love danger better than travail: neither must they be too much broken of it, if they shall be preserved in vigour. Therefore, it was great advantage, in the ancient states of Sparta, Athens, Rome, and others, that they had the use of slaves, which commonly did rid those manufactures. But that is abolished, in greatest part, by the Christian law. That which cometh nearest to it, is, to leave those arts chiefly to strangers, (which for that purpose are the more easily to be received) and to contain the principal bulk of the vulgar natives within those three kinds; tillers of the ground ; free servants ; and handicraftsmen, of strong and manly arts, as smiths, masons, carpenters, etc. ; not reckoning professed soldiers. But above all, for empire and greatness, it importeth most, ESSAY XXIX.] OF THE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS 75 that a nation do profess arms, as their principal honour, study, and occupation. For the things, whicli we formerly have spoken of, are but habiUtations towards arms : and what is habiHtation with- out intention and act } Romulus, after his death (as they report, or feign) sent a present to the Romans ; that, above all, they should intend arms ; and then, they should prove the greatest empire of the world. The fabric of the state of Sparta was wholly (though not wisely) framed, and composed, to that scope and end. The Persians, and Macedonians, had it for a flash. The Galls, Germans, Goths, Saxons, Normans, and othere, had it for a time. The Turks have it, at this day, though in great declination. Of Christian Europe, they that have it, are, in effect, only the Spaniards. But it is so plain, that every man profiteth in that he most intendeth, that it needeth not to be stood upon. It is enough to point at it ; that no nation, which doth not directly profess arms, may look to have greatness fall into their mouths. And, on the other side, it is a most certain oracle of time ; that those states, that continue long in that profession (as the Romans and Turks principally have done) do wonders. And those that have professed arms but for an age have, notwithstanding, commonly attained that greatness in that age which maintained them long after, when their profession and exercise of arms hath grown to decay. Incident to this point is, for a state to have those laws or customs which may reach forth unto them just occasions (as may be pretended) of war. For there is that justice imprinted, in the nature of men, that they enter not upon wars (whereof so many calamities do ensue) but upon some, at the least specious, grounds and quarrels. The Turk hath at hand, for cause of war, the propagation of his law or sect ; a quari'el 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 great- ness, have this ; that they be sensible of wrongs, either upon borderei-s, merchants, or politic ministers ; and that they sit not too long upon a provocation. Secondly, let them be pressed, and ready to give aids and succours, to their confederates : as it ever was with the Romans : insomuch, as if the confederate had leagues defensive with divers other states, and upon in- vasion 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 estate, I do not see how they may be well justified : as when the Romans made a war for the liberty of Grecia : or when the Lacedemonians, and Athenians, made wars, to set up or pull down democracies, and 76 FRANCIS BACON [essay xxix. oligarchies : or when wars were made by foreigners, under the pretence of justice, or protection, to deliver the subjects of others from tyranny, and oppression ; and the like. Let it suffice, that no estate expect to be great that is not awake, upon any just occasion of arming. No body can be healthful without exercise, neither natural body, nor politic : and certainly, to a kingdom or estate, a just and 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, and manners corrupt. But howsoever it be for happiness, without all question, for greatness, it maketh, to be still, for the most part, in arms : and the strength of a veteran army, (though it be a chargeable business) always on foot, is that which commonly giveth the law ; or at least the reputation amongst all neighbour states ; as may well be seen in Spain ; which hath had, in one part or other, a veteran army, almost continually, now by the space of six-score years. To be master of the sea, is an abridgment of a monarchy. Cicero writing to Atticus, of Pompey his preparation against Caesar, saith ; *^ Consilium Pompeii plane Themistocleum est ; putat enim, qui mari potitur, eiim rerum potiri." And, without doubt, Pompey had tired out Caesar if, upon vain confidence, he had not left that way. We see the great effects of battles by sea. The battle of Actium decided the empire of the world. The battle of Lepanto arrested the greatness of the Turk. There be many examples, where sea-fights have been final to the war ; but this is, when princes or states, have set up their rest, upon the battles. But thus much is certain ; that he that commands the 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 of strength at sea (which is one of the principal dowries of this kingdom of Great Britain) is great : both because most of the kingdoms of Europe are not merely inland, but girt with the sea, most part of their compass ; and because the wealth of both Indies seems in great part but an accessary to the command of the seas. The wars of latter ages seem to be made in the dark, in respect of the glory and honour which reflected upon men from the wars in ancient time. There be now, for martial encouragement, some degrees and orders of chivalry ; which nevertheless, are conferred promiscuously, upon soldiers, and no soldiers ; and some remembrance perhaps upon the escutcheon ; and some hospitals for maimed soldiers ; and suchlike things. But in ancient times, the trophies erected upon the place of the victory ; ESSAY XXIX.] OF THE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS ^^ the funeral laudatives and monuments for those that died in the wars ; the crowns and garlands personal ; the style of Emperor, which the great kings of the world after borrowed ; the triumphs of the generals upon their return ; the great donatives and largesses upon the disbanding of the armies ; were things able to inflame all men's courages. But above all, that of the triumph, amongst the Romans, was not pageants or gaudery, but one of the wisest and noblest institutions that ever was. For it contained three things ; 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 the actual triumphs to themselves, and their sons, for such wars as they did achieve in person: and left only, for wars achieved by subjects, some triumphal garments, and ensigns, to the general. To conclude ; no man can, by care-taking (as the Scripture saith) add a cubit to his stature, in this little model of a man's body : but in the great frame of kingdoms, and common- wealths, it is in the power of princes, or estates, to add amplitude and greatness to their kingdoms. For by introducing such ordin- ances, 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. 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, 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, there- fore I will not continue it ; " than this ; " I find no offence of this, therefore I may use it." For strength of nature in youth passeth over many excesses, which are owing a man till his age. Discern of the coming on of years, and think not to do the same things still; for age will not be defied. Beware of sudden change in any great point of diet and, if necessity 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 if thou dost find any inconvenience by the change, thou come back to it again : for it is hard to distinguish that which is generally held good, and wholesome, from that which is good particularly, and fit for thine own body. To be free-minded, and cheerfully disposed, at hours of meat, and of sleep, and of exercise, is one of the best precepts of long lasting. As for the passions and studies of the mind ; avoid envy ; anxious fears ; anger fretting inwards ; subtle and knotty inquisitions ; joys, and exhilarations in excess; sadness not communicated. Entertain hopes ; mirth rather than joy ; variety of delights, rather than surfeit of them ; wonder, and admiration, and therefore novelties ; studies that fill the mind with splendid and illustrious objects, as histories, fables, and contemplations of nature. If you fly physic in health altogether, it will be too strange for your body, when you shall need it. If you make it too familiar, it will work no extraordinary effect, when sickness cometh. I commend, rather, some diet, for certain seasons, than frequent use of physic, except it be grown into a custom. For those diets alter the body more, and trouble it less. Despise no new accident, in your body, but ask opinion of it. In sickness, respect health principally; and in health, action. For those that put their 78 ESSAY XXX. J OF REGIMEN OF HEALTH 79 bodies to endure in health, may in most sicknesses, which are not very sharp, be cured only with diet, and tendering. Celsus could never have spoken it as a physician, had he not been a wise man withal, when he giveth it, for one of the great precepts of health and lasting, that a man do vary, and interchange con- traries ; but with an inclination to the more benign extreme : use fasting, and full eating, but rather full eating ; watching and sleep, but rather sleep ; sitting, and exercise, but rather exercise ; and the like. So shall nature be cherished, and yet taught masteries. Physicians are some of them so pleasing, and con- formable to the humour of the patient, as they press not the true cure of the disease ; and some other are so regular, in proceeding according to art, for the disease, as they respect not sufficiently the condition of the patient. Take one of a middle temper ; or if it may not be found in one man, combine two of either sort : and forget not to call, as well the best acquainted with your body, as the best reputed of for his faculty. XXXI OF SUSPICION SUSPICIONS 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 leese friends ; and they check with business, whereby business cannot go on, currently, and constantly. They dispose kings to tyranny, husbands to jealousy, wise men to irresolution and melancholy. They are defects, not in the heart, but in the brain ; for they take place in the stoutest natures : as in the example of Henry the Seventh of England : there was not a more suspicious man, nor a more stout. And in such a composition, they do small hurt. For commonly they are not admitted but with examination, whether they be likely or no ? But in fearful natures, they gain ground too fast. There is nothing makes a man suspect much, more than to know little : and therefore men should remedy suspicion, by procuring to know more, and not to keep their suspicions in smother. What would men have.^ Do they think those they employ and deal with are saints ? Do they not think they will have their own ends, and be truer to themselves, than to them ? Therefore, there is no better way to moderate suspicions, than to account upon such suspicions as true, and yet to bridle them, as false. For so far, a man ought to make use of suspicions, as to provide, as if that should be true that he suspects, yet it may do him no hurt. Suspicions, that the mind, of itself, gathers, are but buzzes ; but suspicions, that are artificially nourished, and put into men's heads, by the tales, and whisperings of others, have stings. Certainly, the best mean, to clear the way, in this same wood of suspicions, is frankly to communicate them, with the party that he suspects : for thereby, he shall be sure to know more of the truth of them than he did before ; and withal, shall make that party more circumspect not to give further cause of suspicion. But this would not be done to men of base natures : for they, if they find themselves once suspected, will never be true. The Italian says: "Sospetto licentia fede : " as if suspicion did give a passport to faith ; but it ought rather to kindle it, to discharge itself. 80 XXXII OF DISCOURSE SOME in their discourse desire rather commendation of wit, in being able to hold all arguments, than of judgment, in discern- ing what is true : as if it were a praise to know what might be said, and not what should be thought. Some have certain common places, and themes, wherein they are good, and want variety : which kind of poverty is for the most part tedious, and when it is once perceived ridiculous. The honourablest part of talk is to give the occasion ; and again to moderate and pass to somewhat else ; for then a man leads the dance. It is good, in discourse, and speech of conversation, to vary, and intermingle speech, of the present occasion with arguments ; tales with reasons ; asking of questions, with telling of opinions ; and jest with earnest : for it is a dull thing to tire, and, as we say now, to jade, anything too far. As for jest, there be certain things which ought to be privi- leged 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." And generally, men ought to find the difference between saltness and bitterness. Certainly, he that hath a satirical vein, as he maketh others afraid of his wit, so he had need be afraid of others' memory. He that questioneth much, shall learn much, and con- tent much ; but especially, if he apply his questions to the skill of the persons whom he asketh : for he shall give them occasion to please themselves in speaking, and himself shall continually gather knowledge. But let his questions not be troublesome ; for that is fit for a poser. And let him be sure to leave other men their turns to speak. Nay, if there be any that would reign, and take up all the time, let him find means to take them off, and to bring others on ; as musicians used to do, with those that dance too long galliards. If you dissemble sometimes your knowledge, of that you are thought to know, you shall be thought another time, 6 82 FRANCIS BACON [essay xxxii. to know that, you know not. Speech of a man's self ought to be seldom, and well chosen. I knew one, was wont to say, in scorn ; "He must needs be a wise man, he speaks so much of himself:" and there is but one case, wherein a man may commend himself, with good grace ; and that is in commending virtue in another ; especially, if it be such a virtue whereunto himself pretendeth. Speech of touch towards others should be sparingly used : for discourse ought to be as a field, without coming home to any man. I knew two noblemen, of the west part of England, whereof the one was given to scoff, but kept ever royal cheer in his house : the other would ask of those that had been at the other's table ; " Tell truly, was there never a flout or dry blow given ; " to which the guest would answer ; " Such and such a thing passed : " the lord would say ; " I thought he would mar a good dinner." Dis- cretion of speech is more than eloquence ; and to speak agreeably to him with whom we deal is more than to speak in good words, or in good order. A good continued speech, without a good speech of interlocution, shows slowness : and a good reply, or second speech, without a good settled speech, showeth shallow- ness and weakness. As we see in beasts, that those that are weakest in the coui*se, are yet nimblest in the turn : as it is betwixt the greyhound, and the hare. To use too many circum- stances, ere one come to the matter, is wearisome ; to use none at all, is blunt. XXXIII OF PLANTATIONS PLANTATIONS are amongst ancient, primitive, and heroical works. When the world was young, it begat more children ; but now it is old, it begets fewer: for I may justly account new plantations to be the children of former kingdoms. I like a plantation in a pure soil ; that is, where people are not displanted, to the end to plant in others. For else, it is rather an extirpation, than a plantation. Planting of countries is like planting of woods ; for you must make account, to leese almost twenty years' profit, and expect your recompense in the end. For the principal thing, that hath been the destruction of most plantations, hath been the base, and hasty drawing of profit, in the first years. It is true, speedy profit is not to be neglected, as far as may stand with the good of the plantation, but no further. It is a shameful and unblessed thing, to take the scum of people, and wicked condemned men, to be the people with whom you plant : and not only so, but it spoileth the plantation ; for they will ever live like rogues, and not fall to work, but be lazy, and do mischief, and spend victuals, and be quickly weary, and then certify over to their country, to the discredit of the plantation. The people wherewith you plant ought to be gardeners, ploughmen, 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 chestnuts, walnuts, pine-apples, olives, dates, plums, cherries, wild honey, and the like : and make use of them. Then consider, what victual or esculent things there are, which grow speedily, and within the year ; as parsnips, caiTots, turnips, onions, radish, arti- chokes of Jerusalem, 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 83 84 FRANCIS BACON [essay xxxiii. fastest : as swine, goats, cocks, hens, turkeys, geese, house-doves, and the like. The victual in plantations ought to be expended, almost as in a besieged town ; that is, with certain allowance. And let the main part of the ground employed to gardens or corn be to a common stock ; and to be laid in, and stored up, and then delivered out in proportion ; besides some spots of ground that any particular person will manure for his own private. Consider likewise, what commodities the soil where the plantation is doth naturally yield, that they may some way help to defray the charge of the plantation : so it be not, as was said, to the untimely pre- judice of the main business ; as it hath fared with tobacco in Virginia. Wood commonly aboundeth but too much ; and there- fore, timber is fit to be one. If there be iron ore, and streams whereupon to set the mills, iron is a brave commodity, where wood aboundeth. Making of bay salt, if the climate be proper for it, would be put in experience. Growing silk likewise, if any be, is a likely commodity. Pitch and tar, where store of firs and pines are, will not fail. So drugs, and sweet woods, where they are, cannot but yield great profit. Soap-ashes likewise, and other things, that may be thought of. But moile not too much under ground : for the hope of mines is very uncertain, and useth to make the planters lazy in other things. For government, let it be in the hands of one, assisted with some counsel : and let them have commission to exercise martial laws, with some limitation. And above all, let men make that profit of being in the wilderness, as they have God always, and His service, before their eyes. Let not the government of the plantation depend upon too many counsellors, and undertakers, in the country that planteth, but upon a temperate number : and let those be rather noblemen, and gentlemen, than merchants: for they look ever to the present gain. Let there be 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 there be some special cause of caution. Cram not in people, by sending too fast company after company ; but rather hearken how they waste, and send supplies proportionably ; but so, as the number may live well, in the plantation, and not by sur- charge 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 marsh and unwholesome grounds. Therefore, though you begin there, to avoid carriage, and other like discommodities, yet build still rather upwards, from the streams, than along. It concemeth likewise the health of the plantation, that they have good store of salt with them, that they may use it in their victuals, when it shall be necessary. If you plant where savages are, do not only entertain them with trifles, and gingles ; but use them justly, and graciously, with sufficient guard nevertheless : and do ESSAY xxxiii.] OF PLANTATIONS 85 not win their favour by helping them to invade their enemies, but for their defence it is not amiss. And send oft of them over to the country that plants, that they may see a better condition than their own, and commend it when they return. When the plantation grows to strength, then it is time to plant with women, as well as with men ; that the plantation may spread into generations, and not be ever pieced from without. It is the sinfullest thing in the world to forsake or destitute a plantation, once in forwardness : for besides the dishonour, it is the guiltiness of blood of many commiserable persons. XXXIV OF RICHES I CANNOT call riches better than the baggage of virtue. The Roman word is better, impedimenta. For as the baggage is to an army, so is riches to virtue. It cannot be spared, nor left behind, but it hindereth the march ; yea, and the care of it, some- times, 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 Salomon ; " Where much is, there are many to consume it ; and what hath the owner, but the sight of it, with his eyes ? " The personal fruition in any man cannot reach to feel great riches ; there is a custody of them ; or a power of dole and donative of them ; or a fame of them ; but no solid use to the owner. Do you not see what feigned prices are set upon little stones, and rarities ? and what works of ostentation are undertaken, because there might seem to be some use of great riches } But then you will say, they may be of use, to buy men out of dangers or troubles. As Salomon saith ; " Riches are as a stronghold, in the imagination of the rich man." But this is excellently expressed, that it is in imagination, and not always in fact. For certainly great riches have sold more men than they have bought out. Seek not proud riches, but such as thou mayest get justly, use soberly, distribute cheer- fully, and leave contentedly. Yet have no abstract nor friarly con- tempt of them. But distinguish, as Cicero saith well of Rabirius Posthumus ; " In studio rei amplificandoe, apparehat, non avaritiw prcedam, sed instrumentum honitati, quceri." Hearken also to Salomon, and beware of hasty gathering of riches : " Qui festinai ad divitias, non erit insons." The poets feign that when Plutus, (which is riches,) is sent from Jupiter, he limps, and goes slowly ; but when he is sent from Pluto, he runs, and is swift of foot. Meaning, that riches gotten by good means, and just labour, pace slowly ; but when they come by the death of others, (as by the course of 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 speed. The ways to enrich are many, and most of them foul. ESSAY XXXIV.] OF RICHES 87 Parsimony is one of the best, and yet is not innocent : for it with- holdeth men from works of liberality, and charity. The improve- ment of the ground is the most natural obtaining of riches ; for it is our great mother's blessing, the earth's ; but it is slow. And yet, where men of great wealth do stoop to husbandry, it multi- plieth riches exceedingly. I knew a nobleman in England that had the greatest audits of any man in my time : a great grazier, a great sheepmaster, a great timber-man, a great collier, a great corn- master, a great lead-man, and so of iron, and a number of the like points of husbandry, so as the earth seemed a sea to him, in respect of the perpetual importation. It was truly observed by one, that himself came very hardly to a little riches, and very easily to great riches. For when a man's stock is come to that, that he can expect the prime of markets, and overcome those bargains, which for their greatness are few men's money, and be partner in the industries of younger men, he cannot but increase mainly. The gains of ordinary trades and vocations are honest ; and furthered by two things, chiefly : by diligence, and by a good name, for good and fair dealing. But the gains of bargains are of a more doubtful nature ; when men shall wait upon others' necessity, broake by servants and instruments to draw them on, put off others cunningly that would be better chapmen, and the like practices, which are crafty and naught. As for the chopping of bargains, when a man buys, not to hold, but to sell over again, that commonly grindeth double, both upon the seller, and upon the buyer. Sharings do greatly enrich, if the hands be well chosen that are trusted. Usury is the certainest means of gain, though one of the worst ; as that whereby a man doth eat his bread ; " In sudore vultus alieni : " and besides, doth plough upon Sundays. But yet certain though it be, it hath flaws; for that the scriveners and brokers do valew unsound men, to serve their own turn. The fortune, in being the first in an invention, or in a privilege, doth cause sometimes a wonderful overgrowth in riches ; as it was with the first sugar man, in the Canaries : therefore, if a man can play the true logician, to have as well judgment, as invention, he may do great matter ; 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 adven- tures with certainties, that may uphold losses. Monopolies, and coemption of wares for resale, where they are not restrained, are great means to enrich ; especially, if the party have intelligence what things are like to come into request, and so store himself beforehand. Riches gotten by service, though it be of the best rise, yet when they are gotten by flattery, feeding humours, and other servile conditions, they may be placed amongst the worst. As for fishing for testaments and executorships (as Tacitus saith of 88 FRANCIS BACON [essay xxxiv. Seneca ; " Testamenta et orbos, tanqudm indagine capi ; ") it is yet worse ; by how much men submit themselves to meaner persons, than in service. Believe not much them that seem to despise riches : for they despise them that despair of them ; and none worse when they come to them. Be not penny-wise ; riches have wings, and sometimes they fly away of themselves, sometimes they must be set flying to bring in more. Men leave their riches either to their kindred, or to the public : and moderate portions prosper best in both. A great state left to an heir is as a lure to all the birds of prey, round about, to seize on him, if he be not the better stablished in years and judgment. Likewise glorious gifts and foundations are like sacrifices without salt ; and but the painted sepulchres of alms, which soon will putrefy, and corrupt inwardly. Therefore, measure not thine advancements by quantity, but frame them by measure ; and defer not charities till death : for certainly, if a man weigh it rightly, he that doth so is rather liberal of another man's than of his own. XXXV OF PROPHECIES I ME AN not to speak of divine prophecies; nor of heathen oracles ; nor of natural predictions ; but only of prophecies, that have been of certain memory, and from hidden causes. Saith the Pythonissa to Saul ; " To-morrow thou and thy son shall be with me." Homer hath these verses. ** At domus JEne