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 THK 
 
 W () K K S 
 
 1)1" 
 
 FRANCIS BACON, 
 
 BARON OF VERULAM, 
 
 VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN, 
 
 ANT) 
 
 Horn IDigl) CbanccUor of ^nglanu. 
 
 NEW EDITION. 
 
 IN TEN VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED rOR C. AND J. ItlTINGTON ; J. CUTHELL ; T. EGRRTON : J. NUNN ; LONGMAN, HURST, 
 AND CO.; T. CADELt; J. AND W. T. CLARKE; J. AND A. ARCH; J. RICHARDSON; J. M. 
 RICHARDSON: JEFFERY AND SON; BAYNBS AND SON; J. BOOKER; R. SCROLbY ; HATCHARO 
 
 AND son; s. bagster ; j. m awm an ; Baldwin and co. ; j. booth; j. bohn; hauilton, 
 
 ADAMS, AND CO.; W. STEWART; G. B. WHITTAKER; J. DUNCAN; HARDING, LEPARD, AND 
 
 CO.; w. mason; saunders and iiodgson ; j. dowding ; r. biaynaied; j. brumby; 
 J. colungwood; and c. wicksteed. 
 
 1826.
 
 ( . Baldwin. I'l inter, 
 New BiidEc- hircct, Lnnilnn.
 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS. 
 
 OF THE PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT OF 
 LEARNING, DIVINE AND MORAL. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 Page 
 
 Thk objections against learning considered 6 
 
 The objections of di\dnes 6 
 
 The objections of politicians 11 
 
 Objections drawn from the fortune, manners, or studies of 
 
 learned men 18 
 
 The diseases of learning 26" 
 
 The dignity of learning shown , 40 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 Public obstacles to learning considered 0'8 
 
 The distribution of knowledge into particular sciences 74 
 
 Knowledge divided, according to man's three principal 
 faculties, into, I. History, which relates to memory. 
 II. PoKSY, which flows from the imagination. III. Phi- 
 losophy, which is the produce of reasoning ...,,..'..'• 75 
 
 a 2 ...... 
 
 42C870
 
 iv CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 History divided into, 1. Natural. 2. Civil 75 
 
 Natural history is of three sorts, 1. The history of genera- 
 tions. 2. Of preter-generations. 3. Of arts 7(i 
 
 Civil history divided into, 1. Memoirs. 2. Just history. 
 
 3. Antiquities 79 
 
 Just history divided into chronicles, lives, and narratives 
 
 or relations 80 
 
 History divided also into annals and journals 84- 
 
 History ecclesiastical, divided into the history of the 
 Church ; the history of prophecj' ; and the history of 
 
 providence 86 
 
 Appendices to history: speeches, letters, apophthegms .... 87 
 Poetry divided into, 1. Narrative. 2. Dramatical. 3. Pa- 
 rabolical 89 
 
 Philosophy divided into three branches, 1. Divine. 
 
 2. Natural. 3. Human 91 
 
 The trunk of all, a primitive or summary philosophy y2 
 
 Divine philosophy, or natural theology, relates to the 
 being and attributes of God ; and the nature of angels 
 
 or spirits 95 
 
 Natural philosophy, divided into speculative and practical. . Qd 
 Speculative philosophy, or natural science, divided into 
 
 physics and metaphysics 97 
 
 Physics divided into, 1. The doctrine of the principles of 
 things. 2. The doctrine of the formation of things, or 
 the world. 3. The doctrine concerning the variety of 
 
 things 100 
 
 Metaphysics divided into, 1 . The doctrine of forms. 2. The 
 
 doctrine of final causes 1 00 
 
 Mathematics divided into, 1. Pure. 2. Mixed 106 
 
 Pure mathematics divided into geometry and arithmetic .... 106 
 Mixed mathematics divided into perspective, music, astro- 
 nomy, cosmography, architecture, enginery, &c 106 
 
 Practical philosophy, or natural prudence, divided into 
 
 mechanics and magic 107 
 
 Human philosopliy has two parts, human and civil 112 
 
 Human doctrine divided into, 1. The doctrine of the human 
 
 body. 2. The doctrine of the human soul 113 
 
 The doctrine of the union of soul and body divided into, 
 1. The doctrine of notices. 2. The doctrine of impres- 
 sion 114
 
 CONTENTS. V 
 
 Page 
 
 The doctrine of the human body divided into, 1. Medicine. 
 2. Cosmetics. 3. Athletics. 4. Arts of elegance 116' 
 
 The doctrine of the human soul divided into, 1. The doc- 
 trine of the nature of the soul. 2. The doctrine of the 
 faculties of the soul 125 
 
 Appendices to the doctrine of the soul. 1. Divination. 
 2. Fascination 125, 126' 
 
 The doctrine of the faculties of the soul divided into, 
 
 1. Logics. 2. Ethics 129 
 
 The intellectual arts are four, 1. The art of inquiry or 
 
 invention. 2. The art of examination. 3. The art of 
 custody or memory. 4. The art of elocution or tradi- 
 tion 129, 130 
 
 Ethics divided into, 1 . The doctrine of the image of good. 
 
 2. The georgics or cultivation of the mind l60, l6l 
 
 Good divided into simple and compound ; Private good, and 
 
 the good of society l6l 
 
 The cultivation of the mind regards, 1. Different disposi- 
 tions. 2. Affections. 3. Remedies 174, 186 
 
 Civil doctrine divided into three kinds of doctrine or pru- 
 dence. 1. Prudence in conversation. 2. Prudence in 
 business. 3. Prudence in government 186 
 
 SYLVA SYLVARUM ; OR A NATURAL HISTORY, 
 IN TEN CENTURIES. 
 
 CENTUllY I. 
 
 Of straining or percolation, outw^ard and inward 239 
 
 Of motion upon pressure 241 
 
 Of separations of bodies liquid, by weight 243 
 
 Of infusions, in water and air 244 
 
 Of the appetite of continuation in liquids 247 
 
 Of artificial springs 247 
 
 Of the venomous quality of man's flesh 248 
 
 Of turning air into water 248 
 
 Of helping or altering the shape of the body 250 
 
 Of condensing of air, to yield weight or nourishment 250
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Of flame and air commixed 251 
 
 Of the secret nature of flame S.'JS 
 
 Of flame, in the midst, and on the sides 253 
 
 Of motion of gravity ^ 254 
 
 Of contraction of bodies in bulk 254 
 
 Of making vines more fruitful , 255 
 
 Of the several operations of purging medicines 255 
 
 Of meats and drinks most nourishing 259 
 
 Of medicines applied in order 2fi() 
 
 Of cure by custom 266 
 
 Of cure by excess 267 
 
 Of cure by motion of consent 267 
 
 Of cure of diseases contrary to predisposition 268 
 
 Of prepai-ation before and after purging 268 
 
 Of stanching blood 269 
 
 Of change of aliments and medicines 269 
 
 Of diets 270 
 
 Of jiroduction of cold 270 
 
 Of turning air into water 272 
 
 Of induration of bodies 275 
 
 Of preying of air upon water 278 
 
 Of the force of union 279 
 
 Of making feathers and hairs of divers colours 279 
 
 Of nourishment of young creatures in the egg, or womb . . 280 
 
 Of sympathy and antipathy 280 
 
 Of the spirits, or pneumaticals in bodies 281 
 
 Of the power of heat 283 
 
 Of impossibility of annihilation 285 
 
 CENTURY II. 
 
 Of music 286 
 
 Of the nullity and entity of sounds 291 
 
 Of production, conservation, and delation of sounds 295 
 
 Of magnitude, exility, and damps of sounds , . 300 
 
 Of loudness and softness of sounds 'i05 
 
 Of communication of sounds 30G 
 
 Of cf|uality and inequality of sounds, 307 
 
 Of more treble and base tones 309
 
 CONTENTS. vii 
 
 Page 
 
 Of proportion of treble and base 311 
 
 Of exterior and interior sounds 312 
 
 Of articulation of sounds 313 
 
 CENTURY III. 
 
 Of the lines in which sounds move 317 
 
 Of the lasting and perishing of sounds 318 
 
 Of the jnxssage in interception of sounds 320 
 
 Of the medium of sounds 321 
 
 Of the figures of bodies yielding sounds 322 
 
 Of mixture of sounds 324- 
 
 Of melioration of sounds 325 
 
 Of imitation of sounds 327 
 
 Of reflection of sounds 329 
 
 Of consent and dissent between audibles and visiblcs 332 
 
 Of sjnnpathy and antipathy of sounds 337 
 
 Of hindering or helping of hearing 338 
 
 Of the spiritual and fine nature of sounds 339 
 
 Of orient colours in dissolutions of metals 341 
 
 Of prolongation of life 341 
 
 Of the appetite of union in bodies 342 
 
 Of the like operations of heat and time 342 
 
 Of the differing operations of fire and time 343 
 
 Of motions by imitation 343 
 
 Of infectious diseases 344 
 
 Of the incorporation of powders and liquors 344 
 
 Of exercise of the body, and the benefits or evils thereof 344 
 
 Of meats soon glutting, or not glutting 345 
 
 CENTURY IV. 
 
 Of clarification of liquors, and the acceleration thereof .... 34() 
 Of maturation, and the accelerating thereof; and of the 
 
 maturation of drinks and fruits 349 
 
 Of making gold 352 
 
 Of the several natures of gold 355 
 
 Of inducing and accelerating putrefaction 355 
 
 Of prohibiting and preventing putrefaction 358 
 
 Of rotten wood shining 36' I 
 
 Of acceleration of birth 3&2
 
 Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Of acceleration of growth and stature 363 
 
 Of bodies sulphureous and mercurial 364 
 
 Of the chameleon 366 
 
 Of subterrany fires 367 
 
 Of nitrous water 367 
 
 Of congealing of air 367 
 
 Of congealing of water into crystal 368 
 
 Of preserving the smell and colour in rose leaves 368 
 
 Of the lasting of flame 369 
 
 Of infusions or burials of divers bodies in earth 373 
 
 Of the affects of men's bodies from several winds 374 
 
 Of winter and summer sicknesses 374 
 
 Of pestilential years 374 
 
 Of epidemical diseases 375 
 
 Of preservation of liquors in wells, or deep vaults 375 
 
 Of stutting 376 
 
 Of sweet smells 376 
 
 Of the goodness and choice of waters 377 
 
 Of temperate heats under the equinoctial 379 
 
 Of the coloration of black and tawny moors 380 
 
 Of motion after the instant of death 380 
 
 CENTURY V. 
 
 Of accelerating or hastening forward germination 382 
 
 Of retarding or putting back germination 386 
 
 Of meliorating, or making better, fruits and plants 388 
 
 Of compound fruits and flowers 400 
 
 Of sympathy and antipathy of plants 402 
 
 Of making herbs and fruits medicinablc 408 
 
 CENTURY A^I. 
 
 Of curiosities about fruits and plants 410 
 
 Of the degenerating of plants, and of their transmutation 
 
 one into another 415 
 
 Of the procerity and lowness of plants, and of artificial 
 
 dwarfing them 4 If)
 
 CONTEXTS. IK 
 
 Page 
 Of the rudiments of plants, and of the excrescences of plants, 
 
 or super-plants 420 
 
 Of producing perfect plants without seed 426 
 
 Of foreign plants 428 
 
 Of the seasons of several plants 429 
 
 Of the lasting of plants 43 1 
 
 Of several figures of plants 432 
 
 Of some principal diiferences in plants 434 
 
 Of all manner of composts and helps for ground 435 
 
 CENTURY VII. 
 
 Of the affinities and differences between plants, and bodies 
 
 inanimate 439 
 
 Of affinities and differences between plants and living crea- 
 tures, and of the confiners and participles of both. ....... 441 
 
 Of plants experiments promiscuous 442 
 
 Of the healing of wounds 462 
 
 Of fat diffused in flesh 463 
 
 Of ripening drink speedily 463 
 
 Of pilosity and plumage ... 463 
 
 Of the quickness of motion in birds 46*4 
 
 Of the clearness of the sea, the north wind blowing 464 
 
 Of the different heats of fire and boiling water 464 
 
 Of the qualification of heat by moisture 465 
 
 Of yawning 465 
 
 Of the hiccough 466 
 
 Of sneezing 466 
 
 Of the tenderness of the teeth 466 
 
 Of the tongue 46? 
 
 Of the mouth out of taste 46? 
 
 Of some prognostics of pestilential seasons 46? 
 
 Of special simples for medicines 467 
 
 Of Venus 468 
 
 Of the insecta, or creatures bred of putrefaction 470 
 
 Of leaping 474 
 
 Of the pleasures and displeasures of hearing, and of the other 
 
 senses 474
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CENTURY VIII. 
 
 Page 
 
 Of veins of earth medicinal 476 
 
 Of spunges 476 
 
 Of sea-fisli in fresh waters 476 
 
 Of attraction by similitude of substance 477 
 
 Of certain drinks in Turkey 478 
 
 Of sweat 478 
 
 Of the glow-worm 480 
 
 Of the impressions upon the body from several passions of 
 
 the mind 480 
 
 Of drunkenness 485 
 
 Of the hurt or help of wine, taken moderately 486 
 
 Of caterpillars 486 
 
 Of the flies cantharides > . . . . 487 
 
 Of lassitude 487 
 
 Of casting the skin, and shell, in some creatures 488 
 
 Of the postures of the body 489 
 
 Of pestilential years 489 
 
 Of some prognostics of hard winters . 490 
 
 Of certain medicines that condense and relieve the spirits . , . 4,90 
 
 Of paintings of the body 49I 
 
 Of the use of bathing and anointing 49I •. 
 
 Of chambletting of paper- 492 
 
 Of cuttle ink . 492 
 
 Of earth increasing in weight 492 
 
 Of sleep 493 
 
 Of teeth, and hard substances in the bodies of living crea- 
 tures 493 
 
 Of the generation, and bearing of living creatures in the 
 
 womb 497 
 
 Of species visible 499 
 
 Of impulsion and percussion 500 
 
 Of titillation 501 
 
 Of scarcity of rain in Egypt 501 
 
 Of clarification 502 
 
 Of plants without leaves 502 
 
 Of the materials of glass . 502 

 
 CONTENTS. xi 
 
 Of in-ohibition of putrefaction, ami the long conservation of 
 
 Ijodics 503 
 
 Of abundance of nitre in certain sea-shores 504 
 
 Of bodies borne up by water 505 
 
 Of fuel consuming little or nothing 505 
 
 Of cheap fuel 505 
 
 Of gathering of wind for freshness 506" 
 
 Of trials of air 506 
 
 Of increasing milk in milch beasts 507 
 
 Of sand of the nature of glass 507 
 
 Of the growth of coral 507 
 
 Of the gathering'of manna 507 
 
 Of the correcting of wines 508 
 
 Of bitumen, one of the materials of wild-fire 508 
 
 Of plaister growing as hard as marble 509 
 
 Of the cure of some ulcers and hurts 509 
 
 Of the healthfulness or unhealthfulness of the southern wind 509 
 
 Of wounds made with brass, and with iron 510 
 
 Of mortification by cold 510 
 
 Of weight 510 
 
 Of supernatation of bodies 511 
 
 Of the flying of unequal bodies in the air 511 
 
 Of water, that it may be the medium of sounds 512 
 
 Of the flight of the spirits upon odious objects 512 
 
 Of the super-reflection of echos 512 
 
 Of the]^forcc of imagination imitating that of the sense .... 513 
 
 Of preservation of bodies 513 
 
 Of the growth or multiplying of metals 514 
 
 Of the drowning the more base metal in the more precious 514 
 
 Of fixation of bodies , 515 
 
 Of the restless nature of things in themselves, and their desire 
 to change 515
 
 THE LIFE 
 
 OK 
 
 FRANCIS BACON, 
 
 LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND. 
 
 The ancieiU Egyiitians had a law, which ordamed 
 tliat tlie actions and cliaracters of their dead should 
 ho solemnly canvassed hefore certain judges; in 
 order to regulate what was due to their memory. 
 No quality, however exalted: no ahilities, however 
 eminent; could exempt the possessors from this last 
 and impartial trial. To ingenuous minds this was 
 a powerful incentive, in the pursuit of virtue ; and 
 a strong restraint on tlie most ahandoned, in tJieir 
 career of vice. AVhoever undertakes to write tlie 
 life of any ])erson, deservi\!g to bo remembered })v 
 posterity, ought to look upon tliis law a.s prescribed 
 to liim. lie is fairly to record t]ie faults as well as 
 the good (jualities, the failings as well as the perfec- 
 tions, of tlie dead ; \Nith this grand view, to warn and 
 improve tlie living. For this reason, tliough I sJiall 
 dwell with pleasure on the shining part of my lord 
 Bacon's character, as a writer ; I shall not dare 
 either to conceal or palliate his bleniislics, as a ma?), 
 ft equally concerns the public to ])c made acquainted 
 witli both. 
 
 Sii- Nicholas Bacon was the first lord Keeper of 
 the seals invested with all the dignity, and trusted 
 with all the power, of a lord Chancellor. This 
 high employment he held under queen Elizabeth 
 
 Niji.. 1. b
 
 11 THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 near twenty years : a minister considerably learned, 
 of remarkable prudence and honesty ; serving his 
 country with the integrity of a good man, and pre- 
 serving, through the whole course of his prosperity, 
 that moderation and plainness of manners which 
 adorn a great man. His second wife was a daughter 
 of Sir Antony Cooke, who had been preceptor to 
 Edward the Sixth, and of whom historians have made 
 honourable mention for his skill in the learned lan- 
 guages. Neither have they forgot to celebrate this 
 Parsons lady ou tlic sauio account. To the truth of which 
 the Jesuit. QyQii an enemy bore testimony, while he reproaclied 
 her with having translated, from tlic Latin, bislio]) 
 Jewel's Apology for the (Jliurch of England. 
 
 Such were the parents of Francis Bacon, whose 
 life I am writing. Of two sons, by this marriage, 
 he was the youngest : and born at York-house in the 
 1561. Strand, the twenty-second of January, 1561. Ashe 
 had the good fortune to come into the world at a 
 period of time when arts and sciences were esteemed 
 and cultivated, by the great and powerful, almost in 
 the same degree they are now neglected, so he 
 brought with him a capacity for every kind of know- 
 ledge, useful and ornamental. An original genius, 
 formed not to receive im])licit notions of think- 
 ing and reasoning from what was admitted and 
 taught before him ; but to prescribe laws himself, in 
 the empire of learning, to his own and succeeding 
 ages. 
 
 He gave marks, very early, of a pregnant and 
 liappy disposition, far above liis years. Wc are told 
 tliat queen Eliza])etli took a particular delight in 
 trying him witli questions ; and received so much 
 satisfaction from tlic good sense and manliness of his 
 answers, that she was wont to call him, in mirth, her 
 young lord keeper. One saying of his deserves to 
 be remembered. 'J^'he queen having asked liim his 
 age, while he was yet a boy; he answered readily, that 
 he was just two years younger than her happy reign. 
 
 Of liis education I know no particulars, till he 
 was sent to study in the university of (Cambridge,
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. Hi 
 
 under ])r. Wliitgift, afterwards arclibishop of Can- 
 terbury : and I find he was entered of Trinity college iGthof 
 in his twelfth year. The progress he made was ra--'""^- 1^^^- 
 pid and uncommon ; for he had run througli the 
 whole circle of the liberal arts, as they were tlien 
 taught, before he was sixteen. But what is far more 
 surprising ; he began, even then, to see through the 
 emptiness and futility of the pliilosophy in vogue : 
 and to conjecture, that useful knowledge must ])e 
 raised on otlier foundations, and built up with other 
 materials, than had been employed through a tract 
 of many centuries backward. In this, his own ge- 
 nius, aided by a singular discernment, must have been 
 his only preceptor. In matters of reasoning, tlie 
 authority of Aristotle was still acknowledged in- 
 fallible in the schools ; as much as that of the 
 pope, in affairs of religion, had lately been acknow- 
 ledged there and every where else. And our au- 
 thor may be justly styled the first great reformer of 
 philosophy. He had the prepossessions, the volumi- 
 nous and useless reading, nay he had the vanity of 
 men grown old in contrary opinions, to struggle with : 
 )^et he lived to see a considerable revolution on his 
 side. Another age brought over the learned of all 
 nations to his party. 
 
 It may be justly wondered at, that the lord 
 Keeper, a minister of great observation on men and 
 things, should have sent his son to travel at the age of 
 sixteen ; as we find he did ; for, by a letter from Sir 
 Amias Powlet, then ambassador in France, it is cer- 
 tain that young I5acon was at Paris, and under his 
 roof, in the year 1.577. ^^^e need but look around 
 us, to be convinced how little our youth of quality, 
 who visit foreign countries about that age, are wont 
 to profit either in taste, wisdom, or morals. But 
 perhaps he discovered in his son a maturity of discre- 
 tion and judgment beyond what is common to that 
 early season of life. However that was, the am- 
 bassador conceived a very favourable opinion of 
 Bacon ; for he sent him over to the queen with a 
 commission that required secrecv and dispatch : of 
 
 1)2
 
 IV TIIK LIFE OF THE 
 
 which lie acquitted himself with applause, and then 
 returned to finish his travels. The native bent of his 
 mind, strongly turned to reflection and inquiry, suf- 
 fered him not to stop short at the study of languages, 
 but led liim higher, to remark accurately on the cus- 
 toms and manners of those that spoke them ; on the 
 characters of their princes, and on the constitution 
 of their several governments. In proof of this, there 
 is still extant among his works, a paper of observa- 
 tions on tlic general state of Europe, written by him 
 sliortly after this time ; as I have discovered by a 
 circumstance mentioned in it \ 
 
 Pie was the youngest son, and seems to have been 
 the favourite of his father ; who had set apart a consi- 
 derable sum of money to purchase an estate for him, 
 in his absence. But before that kind intention could 
 take effect, tlie lord Keeper died suddenly, by the fol- 
 lowing accident. He was under the hands of his liar- 
 bcr, and, the weatlier being warmer than usual, had 
 ordered a window before him to be thrown open. 
 As he was become very corpident, he presently fell 
 asleep in the current of fresh air that was blowing in 
 upon him; and awaked after some time distempered 
 all o^er. ^A'hy, said he to the servant, did you suffer 
 me to sleep tlius exposed? The follovv' replied, that 
 he durst not presume to disturb him. Then, said the 
 lord Keeper, by your civility I lose my life; and so 
 removed into liis bed-chamber, where he died a few 
 days after. Thus there remained to his youngest son 
 only the small })roportion of a sum, Avhich was to be 
 divided among five brothers. 
 
 TJie narrowness of his circumstances obliged him 
 to think of some profession for a subsistence : and 
 he applied hiiiiselt^ nnne through necessity than 
 dioice, to the study of the common law. For that 
 purpose, lie ])laced himself in the society of Gray's 
 Jnn : wlu-re his superior talents rendered him the or- 
 
 ' He STVs lI'M Ihiiiy 1(1. (if J'raiirc wns then 30 years did : now tli;il king 
 he;:an lii' reiv:» in l.'><4, at iIk- ajro of iJ4 years. So thai I'acou wri-> \hcu 
 liiK'tTn.
 
 I.OUI) CllAN'Cl'>i.l-OR LAtON. 
 
 iiamciit of the house : as the gentleness and affa- 
 ])ility of liis deportment won him tlie affection of 
 all its members. In his profession, lie quickly rose 
 to so mi;c]\ eminence and reputation, that, at the age 
 of twenty-eight years, he was named by Elizabeth her 
 h^ariied counsel extraordinary : a distinction which he 
 needed no assistance from his fatlier's merit with her 
 to deserve. It was however next to impossible that so 
 noble a genius, born to embrace tlie wliolc compass 
 of scieiu-e. should confine its researches within the 
 narrow and perplexed study of precedents and autho- 
 rities ; a study licdged round with brambles and 
 thorns, dark and barbarous iji its beginnings, and ren- 
 dered in its progress still more obscure, by the learned 
 dulness of commentators and compilers: men, for the 
 most part, of indefatigable industry, and of no spirit 
 or discernment. Accordingly we find that in this 
 interval he often gave full scope to his conceptions ; 
 surveying the whole state of learning, observing its 
 defects, and imagining the proper methods to supply 
 tliem. This he first attempted in a treatise whicli lie 
 iutitledTuE Gki:ati:st Bikth or Time; as ap- 
 ]ioars from a letter, written after his retirement, to 
 f'tber Fulgcntio, the A^nietian, in whicli he passes a 
 kiiul of censure on the pompous and swelling title 
 prefixed to it. Though the piece itself is lost, it ap- 
 ])ears to have been the first outlines of that amazing 
 design, wliich he afterwards filled up and finished in 
 his grand Instauration of the Sciences. As there is 
 not a more amusing, perhaps a more useful specula- 
 tion, than that of tracing the history of the Inunan 
 mind, if I may so express myself, in its progression 
 from truth to truth, and from discovery to discovery; 
 the intelligent reader would doubtless have been 
 pleased to see, in the tract I am speaking of, by what 
 ste])s and gradations a spirit like Bacon's advanced 
 in building up, for more than thirty years together, 
 his new and universal theory, jtle thought him- 
 self born for the use of human kind : and, in the 
 letter before mentioned, styles himself the servant of 
 posterity.
 
 VI THE LIFE OP THE 
 
 These few hints for filling up this first part of our 
 author's life., trivial and unsatisfactory as they may 
 appear, I have yet been obliged to glean here and 
 there in the rubbish of several collections, where they 
 lav scattered, without order or connection. But I shall 
 now no longer regard Bacon as a mere philosopher ; 
 as a man of speculation who conversed only Vvith books 
 and his own thoughts in the shade of retirement and 
 leisure. The course of his fortunes produced him on 
 the great theatre of the world, involved him in business, 
 and complicated him with the most considerable per- 
 sons of the age he lived in. He was honourably 
 employed by one prince, and highly preferred under 
 another. It will be therefore necessary, that this 
 history may have its due extent and usefulness, to 
 exhibit a general prospect of the two reigns in Avhich 
 Bacon flourished and fell, at least in their principal 
 points of view. The characters of those with whom 
 he had any connection will illustrate his, and shew 
 it in a truer, as well as a fuller light. 
 
 I have yet another reason for enlarging this 
 account beyond the ordinary limits. Our author's 
 letters arc written, many of them at least, on public 
 occasions, and may be considered as the most au- 
 thentic vouchers for several remarkable occurrences, 
 in which he himself was an actor, and well ac- 
 quainted with the secret motives on which others 
 acted. But as those things are for the most part 
 only hinted at, or no farther opened than to serve the 
 present purpose of his letter ; they will require to be 
 developed at some length, and ranged into their 
 proi)cr ])laces. 
 
 Elizabeth had a larger share of good sense and 
 sound judgment than is commonly to be met with 
 among women ; accompanied with a greatness of 
 mind and steadiness of purpose that might do honour 
 to the best of men. These her natural endow- 
 ments received much, though severe, improvement 
 from the dangers she was exposed to in the first 
 part of her life. She grew up in a strict attention 
 over licr own actions, even over her looks and
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. Vil 
 
 words, from the rigour of her father's temper, and 
 particularly from the jealous cruelty of her sister's 
 administratiou : a sliort hut uicmorahle period of 
 time, when Englaud hclield, under a female reign, 
 such instances of merciless rage, such scenes of 
 horror, as had of old startled the lloman world, under 
 a Nero and a Domitian. The dreadful genius of 
 thai superstition to which she had devoted herself, 
 then exerted its si)irit undisguised, in hetraying, tor- 
 menting, hutchering, hy the ministry of inhuman 
 priests and inquisitors, whoever would not profess 
 what he could not possibly believe. If we may credit 
 historians, they had even doomed Elizabeth herself 
 to die ; and she escaped, miraculously, not by the 
 kindness, but the policy of Philip ; himself a tyrant, 
 the coolest and most determined of these latter 
 ages. 
 
 At her accession to the throne, she found her reve- 
 nues anticipated or exhausted ; her kingdom, through 
 the sanguinary madness of her predecessor, disjointed 
 and broken of its vigour within ; at the same time 
 unsupported by allies and without consideration 
 abroad, Her good sense led her to see, by the errors 
 of her father and her sister, that she could expect to 
 reign with security, only by deserving the confidence 
 and gaining the love of the nation : and that in order 
 thereto, she must propose to herself no other end of 
 ruling but the happiness and honour of all her people. 
 This system of policy, so simple in itself, so glorious 
 in its consequences, and yet by princes so seldom 
 pursued, she adhered to steadily, almost uniformly, 
 through a long and triumphant reign ; for this very 
 reason triumphant ! 
 
 The reformation of religion she attempted and 
 effected, at a season when her power was uncon- 
 iirmed, and in probable danger from intestine com- 
 motions. For revolutions in religion arc apt to put 
 the whole constitution of a society into ferment, even 
 more strongly tlian alterations in government ; as 
 every individual is immediately and intimately actu- 
 ated by what seems to him of highest and most last-
 
 ^11'- THE LIFE or THE 
 
 iiig concern. She kept awake, and aniiriated, with 
 vvonderiiil address, the divisions in Scotland, in 
 France, in tlic Netherlands : and that with more 
 Justice on hvv part, than is usually ohserved hy 
 }v,-iiK:os when they woiild do ill offices to tlieir neigh- 
 hours. The sovereigns of tliosc countnes, when they 
 agreed in nothing else, v^ere ever comhined in a 
 eonnnon eniJiity to her : at a time too when she had 
 nothing to o])pose against their pretensions, their 
 conspiracies, their open attacks, hut her own courage 
 and the native strength of Jl^ngland alone. And yet, 
 hy hel])ing forward the reformation in Scotland ; by 
 supporting- the ])rotestants in France ; hy the wise 
 and well-managed supplies she sent to the ])utch, 
 who were strueolins: hard for their lives and liberties 
 
 or? o 
 
 with an unrelenting tyrant : by this series of conduct, 
 steadily pursued, slie triumphed over ail opposition, 
 and rendered herself the arbitress of Europe. For it 
 may be affirmed, that her administration made a 
 greater impression on all the states round her, than 
 it received itself from any : an undoubted proof of 
 its firmness and active \ igour. 
 
 "Wlien she came to the crown, she found tlie nation 
 four millions in debt : a sum then almost incredible ! 
 and vet her aconomv alone enabled her to discharo-c 
 it. The coil], whicli had been mucli end)ased by 
 Henry the eighth, and by Mary wholly neglected, 
 she quickly lestorcd to its just standard ; and there- 
 w^ith the pubhc laith and credit. Her magazines she 
 carefully replenished with arms, ammunition, war- 
 like stores of every kind ; and the youth all over 
 England were ordered to be duly trained in military 
 exercises. Her navy was fallen to decay, and almost 
 abandoned. Tjiis slie set herself to repair with an 
 attention wliich the great bulwark of this kingdom 
 will c\cY deserve from a prince who understands in 
 what his own strength and that of his dominions 
 naturally consist. Her fleet was at last a match for 
 the mighty armada of Spain : that armada, which 
 was boasted to be invincible, and was in truth a 
 desperate effort of the whole power and resentment
 
 I. OKI) t IIANCELI.OR UACOX. 136 
 
 of lier bitterest enemy. Her victory over liiui, as 
 entire as it was glorious, gave security and renown to 
 this island : and, wliate\ er the ])artialit\' of foreign 
 writers may have iiisinviated to the contrary, she 
 owed it to her own heroical conduct, and the unex- 
 ampled bravery of Iicr subjects. 
 
 She ^vas tlic Hrst of our })riuces v.ho pursued, in 
 any consider;t))]o degree, tlie only siu'e method of 
 makiui!; England greiit and i)owerful : })v encourairinsr 
 and extendnig our commerce ; which, inider her 
 protection, grew high, and spread itself through the 
 Nortli. and to both tlic Indies. In a word, such was 
 her conduct, sucli her good fortune, in this island 
 and on the continent, that her allies had the strongest 
 confidence in her assistance and good faith : that her 
 enemies stood in awe of her }>o\vcr, and were forced 
 to an unwilling approbation of her prudence. The 
 ap])lauso of such as tliink they have cause to hate, 
 and distress us, is the sincerest, as it is the noblest 
 ])raise. Her oeconomy was admirable. 8he hus- 
 banded the public money for her peo])le's ease : she 
 laid it out, on proper occasions, for tlicir safety and 
 honour. The undertakirigs of tlic government were 
 never greater ; the charge was never less. Tliis 
 gives the highest idoa of her ministry, and places 
 their characters, in general, above imputation or 
 rej)roach. 
 
 Of Sir Nicholas Bacon, our autlior's father, I have 
 already given some account : and shall only add here, 
 that he never aspired beyond the rank he brought 
 witli liim to court. His moderation in all other re- 
 spects was the same. Vi'hen the (pu^n visited him 
 at his seat in Hertfordsliire, she told him with an air 
 of pleasantry, that bis house was too little for him. 
 No, readied the lord Keeper ; but your majesty has 
 made me too great for my house. 
 
 \\'alsingham, in his private character, was of un- 
 blemisiied honesty. ^Vs a minister he had singular 
 sagacity in procuring intelligence ; whicii he knew 
 to apply, with great dexterity, to the purposes of 
 government : devoting himself, with so generous a
 
 X. THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 self-neglect, to the service of his country, that he 
 gained a reputation for contempt of riches, which 
 would have been highly reverenced in the best times 
 of antiquity ; and will go near, in these days, to be 
 thought either folly or frenzy. 
 
 The lord treasurer Burleigh, for his consummate 
 abilities as a statesman, was reckoned the first name 
 of his age : and is still pointed out as a pattern, 
 which we rather wish, than expect, to see fully 
 copied by his successors in power. As he had strong 
 natural parts, and was of unwearied application to 
 business, his experience must have been universal 
 and unequalled ; for he was at the head of the 
 government almost forty years. He seems, in par- 
 ticular, to have been eminently possessed of that 
 intrepidity of head, that civil courage, so necessary 
 in a great minister : and without which no minister 
 will ever do any thing truly noble, or of lasting 
 utility to mankind. Inviolably attached to his 
 mistress, he served her with equal fidelity and success; 
 and had the singular felicity to promote the good 
 of his country by the same arts that he employed to 
 gratify the inclinations of his sovereign. 
 
 The glory of this princess will receive a new 
 lustre by comparing the state of England with that 
 of almost all other nations in Europe, at the same 
 time. It must have been no common addition to 
 the tranquillity and happiness of our ancestors, that 
 they enjoyed both, uninterrupted, for such a length 
 of years ; while Scotland and France, Spain and 
 Holland, were torn with continual divisions, and 
 bleeding by the wounds of foreign and domestic 
 wars. Her's too was tlie age of heroes both in arts 
 and arms. Great captains, able statesmen, writers 
 of the liighest order arose, and under her influence 
 flourislied together. Thus Bacon had all the incen- 
 tives that could kindle liim uj) to a generous ambi- 
 tion, and quicken his emulation in the pursuit of 
 knowledge and lioncst fame. And indeed his letters 
 remain a proof, that if lie courted the proper oppor- 
 tunities of raising his name, he lost none that might
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. Xt 
 
 improve and enlarge his mind. As tlie lord treasurer Bacon 
 had married his aunt, vvc find him frequent in his Letter vil 
 applications to tliat minister for some place of credit 
 and service in tlie state. He professes, too, that his 
 views on this head are as moderate, as his aims ano- 
 ther -way are amhitions and vast ; for that lie had 
 taken all philosophy for his province. i\ly lord 
 Burleigh interested himself so far on his hehalf as 
 to procure for him, against violent opposition, the 
 office of register to the Star-cliamber, worth about 
 1600/. a year: but it was only in reversion, and did 
 not fall to him till near twenty years afterwards. 
 Neither did he obtain any other preferment all this 
 reign : though his winning address, his eloquence, 
 his large and systematical learning had raised him 
 to the admiration of the greatest men at court. He 
 was particularly esteemed and patronized by Robert 
 Devereux, the famous and unfortunate earl of Essex ; 
 to whom he attached himself in his younger years, 
 and by whose interest in the queen he flattered him- 
 self with the prospect of bettering his condition. 
 Elizabetli herself shewed him several marks of dis- 
 tinction, admitted him often to her presence, and 
 even consulted him on the state of her affairs: as 
 her ministers sometimes made use of his pen in the 
 vindication of her government. And yet, notwith- 
 standing these fair appearances, he met with no 
 preferment from that queen answerable to the idea 
 we have of his merit, or her discernment in the 
 distribution of favours. This deserves some expla- 
 nation ; as it will discover to us the true genius of 
 those ministers, who pretending to merit themselves, 
 are jealous of it in all other men : who are equally 
 poor-spirited and aspiring. 
 
 The whole court was at this time rent into fac- 
 tions, headed on one part by the earl of Essex ; on 
 the other by the (,'ecils, father and son. Essex was 
 then in all the flower of his youth, and remarkable 
 for the gracefulness of his person. In his nature, 
 brave, ambitious, popular : and what is uncommon, 
 at once the favourite of the sovereign and of the
 
 Xii TliE i.iii: OF Tilt 
 
 nation. Fond of military glory : liberal to profu- 
 sion ; devoted entirely to his friends, and keeping no 
 measures ^vith his enemies ; of competent learning 
 himself, and a signal benefactor to learned men. 
 One quality lie liad, which distinguishes him emi- 
 nently from sucli as are personally beloved by 
 princes : in the height of his favour he received the 
 admonitions, tlie remonstrances of his friends with 
 all gentleness ; and was ever most patient of the 
 truth. But then he wanted those arts which are 
 most nccessiiry in a courtier ; and are indeed the 
 only qualities which tlie rabble of courtiers value 
 themselves upon ; circumspection, cunning, affec- 
 tation of secrecy, with a servile obsequiousness to 
 the humours of their superiors, and a mean but 
 anxious attention to their own interest, whether at 
 the expence of their patrons, or of their country. A 
 different turn of mind gave the earl's enemies great 
 advantages against him. They failed not to repre- 
 sent to the queen, on several occasions, that this 
 young lord, not satisfied with the distinction of being 
 her favourite, p^retended to be her master ; and ])re- 
 scribcd lo her judgment on affairs of state, witli a 
 haniilitiness ill becoming; the distance betwixL a 
 sovereign and the creature of her bounty. Such in- 
 sinuations, as they were partly true, could not fail of 
 making an impression on J^ylizabeth, who was natu- 
 rally high-spirited, and infinitely jealous of her 
 authority. Though she had a particular fondness for 
 the earl, she took occasion every now and then to 
 mortify his jiride, by refusing to advance those friends 
 of his whom he recomnu^nded for preferment. After 
 his return fron) ilie expedition to Cadiz, in which lie 
 had behaved himselt wiih much gallantry, she raiseil 
 his enemy. Sir Robert ( 'ecil, to be secretary of state ; 
 thongli he had earnestly solicited that post for another. 
 He liad often applied to her in behalf of J5acon, and 
 asked for liini, with all the warmth of friendship, 
 the place of Solicitor (n'ueral, but liad lieen always 
 refused. Cecil, who mortally hated Essex, and had 
 entertained a secret jealousy of J3acon, on account
 
 LORD CIIAXCHLI-Olt BACOX. xiii 
 
 of his superior talents, represented the latter to the 
 queen as a man of mere speculation ; as one wholly 
 given up to philosophical incjuhics, new indeed and 
 amusing, but fanciful and unsolid : ami therefore 
 more likely to distract her affairs, than to serve her 
 usefully and with proper jud(j;nient. Bacon however 
 was tliis man's cousin-german ; his father and the 
 lord Burleigh having nuuried two sisters : but am- 
 bition knows neither merit nor relation. This 
 unworthy treatment from so near a kinsman carried 
 Bacon into very free expostulations on his courtly 
 artifices, as he endeavoured in secret to crush the 
 man whom yet he pretended openly to serve : and 
 these repeated disappointments sunk so deep into his 
 spirit, that he was several times on tlie ])oint of 
 retiring for ever, and even of hiding his grief and 
 resentment in some foreign country. Essex, who 
 could Init ill brook the mortification of a denial, 
 thiding himself unable to ser\e his friend in a public 
 way, would needs make up the loss to him out of 
 his own ])rivate fortune : and if we may believe 
 Bushell, he bestowed upon him about this time Biisiuirs 
 Twickenham-Park and its garden of Paradise. AVhe- f„'^"'*^' ^ 
 ther it >\as that or some other of his lands, the 
 donation was so very considerable, that Bacon, as 
 himself acknowledges in his Apology, sold it after- 
 wards, even at an under price, for no less than 
 eighteen hundred pounds A bounty so noble, ac- 
 companied too, as we know it was, with all those 
 agreeable distinctions tliat to a mind, dclieattly 
 sensible, are more obliging than the bounty itself", 
 must kindle in the breast of a good man the mo>.t 
 ardent sentiments of gratitude, and create an in- 
 violable attachment to siicli a benefactor. ^\'hat 
 then are we to think of Bacon, when we find him, 
 after tliis nobleman's unhappy fate, publishing to all 
 Kngland a Declaration of the treasons of Robert carl 
 of Essex ? This behaviour drew upon him a heavy 
 and general hatred at tliat time : which was not 
 extinouished even by his death, but continues still, 
 in the writings of more than one historian, an im-
 
 xiv THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 putation on his memory. As this transaction is of 
 importance to his moral character, I will lay it before 
 the reader as impartially as 1 can. 
 
 Elizabeth had raised that young lord, through a 
 series of honours, to be earl Marshal of England : and 
 was every day giving him new proofs of a particular 
 and uncommon esteem. This only served to exas- 
 pei'ate his enemies. They were powerful, and 
 closely united. But as they durst not attack him 
 openly, they had recourse to dark and surer arts of 
 vengeance : against which his openness of temper, 
 unsuspecting and improvident, was no wise guarded. 
 In truth, his imperious humour, which he could 
 seldom disguise, aided their designs ; for it often 
 broke forth into downright abuse and scorn of those 
 who thwarted his projects, or dissented from his 
 opinions : and he once, in some dispute with the 
 Queen herself, turned his back abruptly upon her 
 with all the marks of disrespect and contempt. 
 Provoked at this insolence, Elizabeth forgetting her 
 sex, and the dignity of her character, struck the earl 
 a box on the car ; which he on his part, with a 
 meanness of passion yet less excusable in a man, 
 resented so highly as to lay his hand on his sword, 
 against a woman and his sovereign. No subsequent 
 favours could wear this imaginary affront out of his 
 memory ; thougli she pardoned him the insult that 
 occasioned it, and sent him sliortly after into Ireland, 
 as her vicegerent, "witli a commission almost unli- 
 mited. His conduct there has not escaped the cen- 
 sure of historians, who have remarked severely on 
 the unjustifiable treaty he made with tlie arcli-rebel 
 Tyrone, on the private conference tliey lield toge- 
 ther, and on his precipitate return to l^ngland, 
 Mem. ..f against the queen's ex])ress orders. This last ill stej) 
 u'li^s^' ^^^ ^'^^^ betrayed into, if we may belie^■e Osborn, by 
 an artifice of Cecil : who first inflamed Elizabeth's 
 sus])icions of tlie earl, and tlien stopped all vessels 
 that were to sail for Ireland, except one, whicli he 
 ordered tliither on purpose witli a feigned report of 
 her deatlj. Fatally deceived by tliis intelligence.
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. XV 
 
 Essex sailed away in a liurry for J^^nglaiul, attended 
 only by a few of his friends. The queen received 
 him witliout any emotion either of anger or aifec- 
 tion, and, having' confined him to his own house, 
 ordered his conduct to be examined in the 8tar- 
 Chamber. At this usage of him, liowever gracious 
 and moderate, the people, whose idol he was, loudly 
 exclaimed : and their unseasonable partiality, re- 
 presented by his iidversaries as of dangerous ten- 
 dency to the state, kindled anew the queen's indig- 
 nation against Jiim. Thus tliat popularity he had so 
 eagerly courted, and so much depended upon, served 
 now only to hasten forward his destruction. He was 
 sentenced by the council to be removed from his 
 place at that board ; to be suspended from his offices 
 of earl INIarshal and Master of the ordnance, and to 
 be imprisoned during the queen's pleasure. Having 
 humbled him thus far, she stopped short, forbidding 
 his sentence to be entered on record, and still con- 
 tinuing him jNIaster of the horse. She even gave 
 him the full enjoyment of his liberty, upon his ex- 
 pressing a perfect resignation to her pleasure ; but 
 withal advised him to be liis own keeper. His seem- 
 ing repentance was of short duration ; for upon the 
 queen's refusal to grant him tlie farm of sweet wines, 
 which he had very imprudently petitioned for, he 
 returned out of the country, and again abandoned 
 himself to all the impetuosity of his temi)er ; or 
 rather to the pernicious suggestions of his followers. 
 Indeed the presumption that naturally grows out of 
 successful ambition, and the interested counsels of 
 those whose fortunes were involved with his, seem 
 to have entirely turned his head : for his actions 
 henceforward were the genuine effects of frenzy and 
 despair. In conjunction with his friends, of several 
 conditions, lie meditated no less an attempt than to 
 seize on the palace, to make himself master of tlie 
 queen's person, and to banish from about her all 
 those whom he reputed his enemies. Ts'ever was 
 conspiracy so ill laid, or conducted with so little 
 probability of success. The court was presently
 
 .jjyi THK l.TTK OF Tlir, 
 
 alarmed, his hour,e invested, himself and his friends 
 made prisoners, \vithont any resistance on his part ; 
 for thongh he was emharked in a kind of rebellion, 
 he knew not how to he a rebel. The particnlars of 
 his trial are foreign to my pnrpose. It v. as managed 
 against him by Sir Edward (.'oke, the attorney gene- 
 ral, and by Bacon as one of the queen's counsel. It 
 stateTriais, ought not to bc forgot that tlie former treated this 
 "^"'- ]■ unfortunate no))lenian with a strain of petulant dulness 
 ^' ^' and scurrility that makes us contcinn his talent as 
 a pleader, while we ablior the purpose to which he 
 made it subservient. .15iicon was moderate and de- 
 cent. The crime was proved by a cloud of witnesses : 
 and the unanimous sulfrage of liis peers found him 
 guiltv. After his sentence he appeared Avholly indif- 
 ferent to life or deatli : though the queen seemed still 
 irresolute, or rather inclining to save him. He died 
 with the tenderness of a penitent, and the firmness 
 of a hero : though tlie nuirshal de liiron jested on 
 his deportment in that last scene of life, as suiting 
 rather a monk than a soldier. 
 
 Tlie untimely fate of this nobleman, who died on 
 a scaffold in the })rime and vigour of his years, excited 
 universal pity, and v/as nmriiiured against by all con- 
 ditions of people. Their reflections on the prevail- 
 ing })arty at court, even on the queen herself, were 
 so bold and injurious, that tlie administration thought 
 it necessary to vindicate their conduct in a public 
 V d appeal to the people. This task was assigned to 
 ciarat. of Bacou, Q\Qn tlicu iu high esteem for his excellencies 
 ihfitTeh',i.us ^g r^ writer. Some say it v»as by his enemies insidi- 
 eari oT ously iuiposcd Oil him, to divert tlie national resent- 
 v'm'ii J^^'it from themselves uj'on a paiticular person, who 
 p. 136. was known to have lived in friendship witli j^^sse.x, 
 and vv'hom tliey intended to ruin in the public 
 esteem, li' such was their intention, they snccecd(a 
 but too well in it. iSever man incurred more uni- 
 versal or more lasting censure than iJaeon by this 
 writing. He was e\ery where traduced as one wlio 
 endejjvourcd to mra-der the good name of his bene- 
 factor, after the ministry had destroyed his person :
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. XVU 
 
 his life was even threatened ; and he went in daily 
 hazard of assassination. This obliged him to publish, 
 in his own defence, the Apology we find among 
 his writings. It is long and elaborate; but not, 
 })crhaps, in every part satisfactory. Let us believe Apology, 
 him on his own testimony, that he had never done y"';//^' 
 that nobleman any ill offices with the queen ; though 
 she herself had, it seems, insinuated the contrary : 
 that on the other hand he had always, during the 
 time of their intimacy, given him advice no less 
 useful than sincere ; that he had wished, nay en- 
 deavoured the earl's preservation even at last, purely 
 from affection to him, without any regard to his own 
 interest in that endeavour : let all this be allowed ; 
 some blemish will still remain on his character. 
 
 Essex deserved the fate he underwent : but he 
 had paid his debt to justice : and the commonwealth 
 had now nothing to fear from any of his party. 
 The declaration above mentioned could therefore be 
 intended only to still the present clamours of the 
 multitude ; and though the matter of it might be 
 true, Bacon was not the man who should have pub- 
 lished those truths. lie had been long and highly 
 indebted to the earl's friendship, almost beyond the 
 example even of that age. In another man this 
 proceeding might not have been blameable; in him 
 it cannot be excused. In the next reign 8ir Henry AuI. Co- 
 Yelverton ventured on the displeasure both of the i"'- p- ^^^• 
 king and his minion, rather than do the ministry of 
 his office, by pleading against the earl of Somerset, 
 who had made him solicitor general. Had Bacon 
 refused that invidious part, there were others, among 
 the herd of aspiring and officious lawyers, ready 
 enough to have performed it : and his very enemies 
 must have thought more advantageously of him for 
 declining a task, in itself of no essential import- 
 ance to the state, and in him unjust to friendship, 
 obligation, gratitude, the most sacred regards among 
 men. 
 
 Elizabeth survived her favourite about a year ; and, Osbom, 
 if we may credit Osborn, grief and remorse for his p- '*^^' 
 VOL. I. c
 
 XVm THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 * He is fate accompanied her to the grave *. She died the 
 
 liuhJr'lho twenty-fourth of JNIarch, 1603, in the fuhiess of days 
 
 mentions and honoui*. Her reign had been long and triumph- 
 
 thc rinu^ ° ^^t I and slio had through the whole course of it 
 
 preserved, wliat she so justly merited, the love and 
 
 veneration of her people ; the truest glory, the rarest 
 
 1603. felicity of a sovereign ! yhe was succeeded by James 
 
 the sixtli of Scotland, under whom Bacon ascended, 
 
 by several steps, to the highest dignity of the law. 
 
 This prince, the most unwarlike that ever lived, 
 Avas born in the midst of ci^"il commotions ; at a 
 time w'hen his whole kingdom was torn into factions, 
 betwixt the party who had espoused the interests of 
 his mother, and those who had declared for him. 
 After he had taken the administration into his own 
 hands, he was hardly ever his own master ; suffering 
 himself to be led implicitly by the cabal in whose 
 power he then happened to be. The moment he 
 thought himself at liberty from either, like a boy 
 escaped from under the eye of a rigid preceptor, he 
 forgot all liis uneasinesses, and abandoned himself 
 to his favourite amusements of hawking and hun.ting, 
 as if his kingdom had been in the profoundest tran- 
 quillity. He grev\^ up in an unaccountable fondness 
 for favourites. The first, who took deep root with 
 him, was likewise the worst ; not only encouraging 
 hhn in a total inapplication to business, but tinctur- 
 ing his youth with the poison of all debauchery. 
 Meivii's 'X'he name of this man was Stuart, afterwards earl 
 p. 131. of Arran ; one who had great and dangerous vices, 
 without a single virtue, private or public, to atone 
 for them : an open scoffer at the obligations of 
 morality, insolent, rapacious, sanguinary, hated by, 
 and hating, all good men. The honester part of the 
 nol)iiity often remonstrated against the credit and 
 pernicious influence of this minion : James acknow- 
 ledged tlie justice of their remonstrances ; banished 
 him several times from court ; and several times 
 jMeivii, received him into new favour. He was at length sliot 
 p. 200. ijy .^ private liand in revenge for the death of the 
 earl of iMorton, to which he had basely contributed.
 
 LOUD CHANCELLOR BACON. xix 
 
 James hated the churcli of Scotland ; and con- ^Mcivii, 
 firmed its aiitliority. He declared the attempt of''"^^~' 
 those lords, ^vho had rescued him out of the hands 
 of Arran and J^enox, to he just and scrviceahle : he 
 afterwards banished them, and would have confis- 1>. 159. 
 cated their estates, on that very account. When they 
 had made themselves masters of his person a second 
 time, he pronounced them all traitors ; and pardoned v- 169. 
 them. 
 
 Elizabeth, who knew his genius perfectly, sent 
 Mr. Wottcn on an embassy to him in 1585. Her 
 intention was to divert him from a marriage with the 
 princess of Denmark, and to give his counsels what 
 other turn her interests might require. The ambassa- 
 dor, a man of address and intrigue, had, by long ha- 
 bitude, learnt to personate all characters, and to as- 
 sume, with an ease that seemed altogether unaffected, 
 whatever shape might serve most effectually the pur- 
 poses of hie superiors. At the age of twenty-one p. lei. 
 he had been em^^loyed to sound the intentions of the 
 court of France : and had well nigh duped the famous 
 constable de IMontmorcncy, a minister grown grey in 
 the observation of human falsehood and artifice. To 
 his natural talent he had now added the experience 
 of thirty years more. By accompanying King James 
 in his sports ; by falling in frankly, and as it were 
 naturally, with all his passions; by making a jest of 
 business ; by entertaining him pleasantly with an ac- 
 count of foreign fashions and follies; this man gained 
 an absolute ascendant not only over his understand- 
 ing, but over his humour. His most faithful subjects, 
 who had served him longest and best, who had even 
 warned him against the subtleties of this stranger, he 
 received with approbation or dislike, just as Wotton 
 inspired him. He was even brought by him to be se- p. lei 
 riously persuaded that the king of Denmark was 
 descended from a race of merchants, and that an al- 
 liance witli his daughter was therefore infinitely be- 
 neath a king of Scotland's dignity. 
 
 Such was the prince who now mounted that throne. An. i60». 
 which Elizabeth had filled with so great capacity and 
 
 c 2
 
 XX THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 reputation. The union of the two crowns in the 
 person of one sovereign, was extremely dreaded by 
 foreigners, and in particidar by Henry the fourth of 
 France. The accession of a new kingdom to the 
 native force of England, which even alone had been 
 long formidable on the continent ; the alhance of 
 James with the most potent monarch of the North ; 
 his relation to the house of Lorrain, which had lately 
 embroiled all France, rendered such fears very pro- 
 bable. But his conduct dissipated them for ever : and 
 all Europe quickly saw, that no people but his own 
 had any thing to apprehend from his power. At his 
 arrival in England, he bestowed titles and honours 
 with so wild a profusion, that there hardly remained 
 any other mark of distinction but tliat of having 
 Wilson, escaped them. The public stood amazed ; and pas- 
 ^' ' quinades were openly affixed, undertaking to assist 
 
 weaker memories to a competent knowledge of the 
 nobility. Sir Francis Bacon, who had been early in 
 his homage, and ap])lication for favour, to the new 
 sovereign, was knighted by him in person : and has 
 left us the following picture of him, strongly touched 
 Bacon, in its most obvious features. "His speech," says he, 
 Letter ' " ^^ swift and cursory ; and in the full dialect of his 
 Lxxiii. " country : in matters of business, short ; in general 
 " discourse, large. He affecteth popularity, by gracing 
 " such as he hath heard to be popular ; not by any 
 " fashions of liis own. He is thought somewhat gc- 
 " neral in his favours ; and his easiness of access is 
 " rather because he is much abroad and in a crowd, 
 " than that he givctli easy audience. He hastencth 
 '• to a mixture of botli kingdoms and occasions faster, 
 " perhaps, than policy will v.ell bear." 
 An. 1605. jji i()05, Sir Francis l^acon recommended himself 
 to the king's particular notice, as v.eli as to the ge- 
 neral esteem of his cotemporarics, by publishing a 
 work he liad long meditated ; The Progress and Ad- 
 vancement of l^earning. Tlie great aim of this treatise, 
 no less original in the design than happy in tlie exe- 
 cution, was to survey accurately the whole state and 
 extent of the intellectual world ; what parts of it had
 
 LOUD CHANCELLOR BACON. XXI 
 
 been unsuccessfully cultivated ; what lay still ueg- 
 lected, or uuknowu ; and by what methods these 
 might be discovered, and those improved to the 
 farther advantage of society and human nature. By 
 ex])osing the errors and imperfections of our know- 
 ledge, he led mankind into the only right way of sup- 
 plying the one, and reforming the other : he taught 
 them to know their wants. He even went farther, 
 and himself })ointe{l out to them the general methods 
 of correction and im})rovement in the whole circle of 
 arts and sciences. This work he first published in Tennison's 
 English ; but to render it of more extensive use. he ^.^2.5?'^"^' 
 recommended a translation of it into Latin to Dr. 
 Playfer of Cambridge. Playfer, with the scrupulous 
 accuracy of a grammarian, was more attentive to 
 fashion liis style to purity and roundness of periods, 
 made out of the phraseology he had gleaned from 
 classic writers, than to render his author's meaning in 
 clear and masculine language. After the sight of a 
 specimen or two, Sir Francis did not encourage him 
 to proceed in it. He himself, after his retirement, 
 very much enlarged and corrected the original, and 
 with the assistance of some friends, turned the whole 
 into Latin. This is the edition of 1()23 ; and stands p. 27. 
 as the first part to his great Instauration of the 
 Sciences. 
 
 I have already observed that Cecil, now earl of 
 Salisbury, op))osed the progress of our author's for- 
 tune under Elizabeth ; and he seems to have ob- 
 served the same conduct towards him in the present 
 reign, till he had fixed himself in the king's con- 
 fidence so firmly as to be above all fear of a rival. 
 Besides him, Sir Francis Bacon found a violent and 
 lasting enemy in a man of his own profession, Sir 
 Edward Coke ; who, with great parts, had many and stcpiien,'* 
 signal failings. The quarrel betwixt them seems to f;";'!"''"""' ' 
 have been personal : and it lasted to the end of 
 their lives. Coke was jealous of Bacon's reputation 
 in many parts of knowledge : by whom, again, he 
 was envied for the high reputation he had acquired
 
 XXll THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 in one; each aiming to be admired, particularly, 
 for that in which the other excelled. This affec- 
 tation in two extraordinary men has something in 
 it very mean, and is not uncommon. The former 
 was the greatest lawyer of his time ; but could be 
 nothing more. If the latter was not so, we can 
 ascribe it only to his aiming at a more exalted cha- 
 racter. The universality of his genius could not be 
 confined within one inferior province of learning. 
 If learning thus divided is not so proper to raise a 
 singular name in one way, it serves to enlarge the 
 understanding on every side, and to enlighten it in 
 all its views. As the name of Sir Edward Coke will 
 occur oftener than once in tliis history, and as he 
 stood in particular competition to Bacon, I beg leave 
 to dwell a little longer on his character. In his 
 pleadings he was apt to insult over misery. Of 
 this we have a detestable instance in his behaviour 
 to Sir Walter Raleigh. He inveighed against that 
 stateTii- bravo man on his trial with all the bitterness of 
 p. 207', &;c. cruelty, and in a style of such abandoned railing as 
 bordered almost on fury : I wish I could not add, 
 that this bitterness, this intemperance of tongue, 
 seem to be the genuine effusions of his heart '^. He 
 conversed, it seems, more with books than men ; 
 and among the latter, with those only to whom he 
 could dictate and give tlic law. The consequence 
 of which was, tliat his conversation had all the air 
 of a lecture ; and that ho retailed for new, a hun- 
 dred stories that v>'ere eitlicr stale or trivial. He 
 affected raillery, which v^-as by no means his talent. 
 His wit was often ill aimed, as it was always inde- 
 licate and vulgar; tlie rough horse-play of a pe- 
 dant. Though he had accumulated immense wealth, 
 
 " The ollices of Attorney and Solicitor General have been rocks upon wliicli 
 many aspiring lawyers liavc made shipwreck of their virtue and hmnan nature. 
 Some of those gentlemen Iiave acted at the bar as if they thought lliemselves, 
 by the duty of their places, absolved from all the obligations of truth, liotiour, 
 and decency. Uut their names are upon record, antl will be transmitted to 
 after ages nith those characters of reproach and abhorrence that are due to the 
 worst sort of nmrdercrs j those that murder under the sanction of justice.
 
 LOUD CHANCELLOR KACOX. XXlll 
 
 in his profession and by several rich marriages, Jie 
 was of a sordid avarice ; a severe master, a griping 
 landlord ; in prosperity insolent, dejected and fawn- 
 ing in adversity : the same poorness of spirit influenc- 
 ing his behaviour in both conditions. One example 
 of this may serve in place of several : after liis dis- 
 grace, he submissively courted Uuckingliam's brother 
 to a matcli with liis daughter : in the height of his 
 favour he had rejected the same proposal with scorn. 
 His profoiuul skill in the common law has been uni- 
 versally allowed : and to this we cannot have a more 
 unquestionable witness than Sir Francis Bacon ; one's latoTr. 
 every v/ay tit to judge, and an enemy. He was ^ "}^-^l^- 
 raised to be Cliief Justice of the Common Pleas in 
 1606, and of tlic Kings Bench in 1613. On the 
 bencli he was above corruption : and had this saying 
 frequently in his mouth, that a judge should neither 
 give nor take a bribe. In the case of Peacham, in Bacon, 
 the business of Commendams, he behaved himself Leie^" 
 with the honesty and firmness of one who knew that '^xiv. 
 a judge ought neither to be flattered nor menaced out 
 of his integrity. Towards the latter part of his life, 
 he struck in with the country party in parliament, and 
 stood in tlie In-cacli against the arbitrary measures of 
 James and Charles. He died in the reign of the 
 latter, aged 88 years. 
 
 At length Sir Francis ]3acoii obtained tlie place he Am. 1607. 
 had so long expected; and in 1607 was declared 
 Solicitor (reneral. This preferment was tlie effect of 
 many letters and nnicli instance on liis part, to the 
 earl of Salisburv, the lord chancellor Egcrton, and 
 tlie king himself. Neither do I fmd that he was ever 
 promoted to any post witliout repeated and earnest 
 application to ministers and favourites : a reflection 
 that may serve at once to mortify and instruct an am- 
 bitious man of parts. 
 
 James had, from the beginning of his reign, pas- 
 sionately desired an union of Scotland and England : 
 but his unreasonable partiality to the former, reckoning- 
 it as an equal half oi' the island, rendered the design 
 abortive. Though Sir Francis Bacon laboured tliis
 
 XXIV THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 argument with all the arts of wit and reason, his elo- 
 quence, powerful as it was, had no effect on the 
 house of commons. The parliament even shewed 
 itself averse to this union, in proportion as the court 
 appeared zealous for it. The new sovereign's con- 
 duct had alarmed them. They saw that, with a 
 strong disposition to be profuse, he was absolutely in 
 the power of favourites ; and that some of the least 
 valuable among his subjects were most in his favour. 
 They saw farther, that he began already to propagate 
 maxims of government destructive to liberty, and 
 inconsistent with the whole tenor of the constitution. 
 These things filled observing men with apprehensions 
 for the future, which unhappily were but too well 
 founded. The whole sum of his politics, both now 
 and afterwards, was to distaste and alienate his sub- 
 jects at home ; to dishonour both himself and them 
 abroad. It was a reign of embassies and negotiations, 
 alike fruitless and expensive : a reign of favourites and 
 proclamations, of idle amusements and arbitrary im- 
 positions. It was besides the great era of flattery. 
 The ancient national simplicity of manners which 
 ever accompanies magnanimity, and manly freedom 
 of speech the noble effect of both, were now in a 
 great measure lost ; altered and effeminated into pro- 
 stitute adulation and servile homage. This w\as be- 
 come the fasliionable language among the clergy as 
 well as laity, and James heard himself daily ad- 
 dressed to, by the titles of sacred and divine : titles 
 which discover the meanness rather than the dignity 
 of human nature ; and which, applied to him, were 
 glaringly ridiculous. He had not one princely qua- 
 lity. The arts of governing a kingdom in peace he 
 either did not, or would not understJind : and his 
 horror of war was constitutional and unconquerable. 
 It may tlierefore seem unaccountable tliat a king of 
 this tcm]K'r sliould treat his parliaments witli more 
 haughtiness than any of liis predecessors had ever 
 done. lint lie had been told tliat England was nei- 
 ther to be exhausted nor provoked: and his actions 
 shewed that he believed so, according to the letter.
 
 LOUD CHANCELI-OK BACON. XXV 
 
 The truth is, that as pusillanimity will talk higger on 
 some occasions than true valour on any ; he meant to 
 make himself formidahle to his people, that they 
 might not discover how much he was afraid of them. 
 
 Though he did not succeed in the union of the 
 kingdoms, he found his judges, in an affair of a simi- 
 lar kind, more com})laisant tlian the great council of 
 the nation had heen : I mean the naturalization of all 
 Scotsmen bom since his accession to the throne of 
 England. This was adjudged by Sir Edward (,'oke in Casuof tiie 
 the great case of ( alvin ; as it had been argued at (oi'Tv' 
 large before all the judges by Sir Francis Bacon. The 
 aftair is now no longer of importance to either king- 
 dom : but one assertion of our author, on that occa- 
 sion, ought not to be forgot. He roundly affirms 
 that monarchies do not subsist like other govern- 
 ments, by a precedent law ; and that submission to 
 them is grounded upon nature. 
 
 In 1610 he published another treatise, intitled, An. leio. 
 " Of the Wisdom of the Ancients." This work 
 bears the same stamp of an original and inventive 
 genius with his other performances. Resolving not 
 to tread in the stejis of those who had gone before 
 him, men, according to his own expression, not 
 learned beyond certain common places ; he strikes 
 out a new tract for himself, and enters into the most 
 secret recesses of this vvild and shadowy region ; so 
 as to appear new on a known and beaten subject. 
 I 'pon the whole, if we cannot bring ourselves readily 
 to believe that there is all the physical, moral, and 
 political meaning veiled under those fables of an- 
 tiquity, which he has discovered in them, we must 
 own that it required no common penetration to be 
 mistaken with so great an appearance of probability 
 on his side. Though it still remains doubtful whe- 
 ther the ancients were so knowing as he attempts to 
 shew they were, the variety and depth of his own 
 knowledge are, in that very attempt, unquestionable. 
 
 Hobart being advanced to the place of Chief An. 1613. 
 Justice of the Common Pleas, Sir Francis Bacon suc- 
 ceeded him as Attorney General in 1013; about
 
 XXVI THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 three months after the death of his kinsman and 
 enemy the lord treasurer Salisbm-y : a minister fertile 
 in expedients for sii])plying his master's ^vants, and 
 well acquainted with the temper of England : a man 
 of dexterity, craft, and intrigue, rather than a great 
 man. The office that Bacon now entered upon was 
 of exorbitant profit for that age. He owns, in one 
 of his letters to the king, that it w\as worth to him 
 (iOOOl. a year ; and his employment of register to the 
 8 tar-Chamber, which I mentioned above, now 
 brought him in I6OOI. a year more. By what fata- 
 lity w-as it that so extraordinary a man did not add to 
 his other virtues tliat of a reasonable oeconomy ? Had 
 he done so, it had preserved him from one transcen-^ 
 dent fault : and the other blemishes on his moral 
 name had been lost in the brightness of his intellectual 
 qualities. But he was remarkably subject to the 
 same weakness that so much dishonoured his master. 
 His dependents had him wholly in tlieir power, and 
 squandered his fortmie away, shamefully and without 
 measure. In a private family, this begot disorder, 
 necessity, corruption : and all England beheld, from 
 the same management in administring the public, 
 the same effects ; only more felt and fatal, as they 
 were universal. 
 
 It was not however till the year I6II that James 
 abandoned himself to one sole favourite. About that 
 time was brought to court Robert Cur, a Scotsman, 
 then in the iirst bloom of his youth, and of distin- 
 guished beauty ; by w'hich he at once engaged the 
 king's attention, and in a little wliile engrossed all 
 his affection. As he vcas wliolly illiterate, James 
 himself w'ould needs be his preceptor : and it must 
 have been a scene altogether new and ridiculous, to 
 see the sovereign of three kingdoms daily instructing, 
 in the first elements of grammar, the man who was 
 shortly after to govern those kingdoms. In his 
 bounty to tliis stripling, he observed no other measure 
 but that of his passion, which was as extreme as it 
 '^""'', ,, seemed unacconntal>le. Car, in four or five vears of 
 
 uroiinlit to ^ J 
 
 lighi, 1). B9. favour, from a mere adventurer was raised to be earl
 
 LORD CHANCELLOll BACON. XXVU 
 
 of Somerset : and amassed an enormous estate of 
 nineteen thousand pounds a year in land ; besides 
 plate, money, and jewels, to the amount of two 
 hundred thousand pounds more. And yet he de- 
 serves a place in hisioiy, only for his scandalous 
 amour with the countess of Essex ; for j)rocuring her An. 1013. 
 to be divorced from her husband, and for combining 
 witli her to poison his friend, who had dissuaded him 
 from that ill step. The fate of 8ir Thomas Over- 
 bury ; the dark and dreadful scene of guilt that 
 ushered it in ; and the Y>i\Yt those two great criminals 
 acted in that tragedy, are recounted by all historians. 
 Though the horrible transaction lay yet wrapt up in 
 darkness, and was not discovered till two years after, 
 remorse and the upbraidings of conscience pursued 
 Somerset every where. Tlirougli all the splendour of 
 fortune and favour, the trouble of his mind was visible 
 in his countenance, in his whole deportment. He 
 grew by degrees to neglect his person and dress ; his Coke. 
 sprightliness of temper left him : and his conversation, 
 from being gay and entertaining, was become cold, 
 serious, and gloomy. This alteration in him was 
 quickly followed by a change in the king's affections ; 
 which had no deeper or more solid foundation than 
 these external and slight accomplishments. The 
 courtiers, whom envy and interest render extremely 
 sharpsighted, quickly discovered this change, and 
 improved it. Luckily for their designs, there now An. u-,i5. 
 appeared at court another young man, fitted by nature 
 to draw the curiosity of James, and to supplant the 
 earl of Somerset in his favour. This was the famous ^viis(>n, 
 George \'^illiers, the younger son of a good family in 
 Leicestershire ; afterwards duke of J^uckingham. As 
 the surprising elevation of this youth had a particular 
 influence on the future fortunes, and even on the fall, 
 of Sir Francis Bacon, his character will deserve a 
 place at large in this history. 
 
 His mother, who could not give him a fortune, be- 
 stowed on him such an education as might enable him 
 to acquire one, especially in a court like this. The 
 advantages he owed to nature, such as a ha,ndsome
 
 XXviii THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 face, a body exactly proportioned, an ease and grace- 
 fulness in bis motions, sbc bad taken care to improve 
 witb tbat elegance of manners, tbat artificial polite- 
 ness, and skill of excelling in trifles, wbicb are tbe 
 last finisbings of a Frcncb education. In a word, 
 he was just returned from bis travels, and accom- 
 plisbed in all tbose agreeable and frivolous arts, wliicb 
 were a certain recommendation to tbe favour of 
 James. Tbe earls of Pembroke and Bedford, witli 
 some otber lords \vbo were secret enemies to Somer- 
 set, after dressing out tbis youtb witb a studied exact- 
 ness, placed bim to advantage in tbe king's eye, at 
 a comedy. Tbat monarcb was immediately smitten 
 witb bis face, air, and appearance ; wbicb yet be 
 endeavoured for some time to conceal. Nay be car- 
 ried tbis dissinudation so far, tbat be would needs be 
 solicited by tbe queen to receive A'^illiers into bis 
 bosom : imaoinino- tbe world would be tbus deceived 
 into a belief tbat lie ratber followed ber advice, in 
 tbis matter, tban bis own inclination. Sucb was tbe . 
 kingcraft on wbicb be so biglily valued bimself. Tbe 
 queen was not easily prevailed witb to take tbis step ; 
 of wbicb sbc foresaw all tbe consequences. At last, 
 
 Rush worth howcver, slic yielded to tbe arcbbisliop's importunity ; 
 
 ch. 1. °'' telling bim at tbe same time, tbat tliosc wbo laboured 
 most to promote A'^illiers migbt be tbe first to feel liis 
 ingratitude. Upon tbis be was immediately knigbted, 
 and declared gentleman of tbe bed-cbamber : tbe 
 berd of courtiers rivallino- cacli otber in tbeir offers of 
 
 Weidon, fricudsbip and service to bim. Some of tliem even 
 
 i'- ^*- descended to undertake bis quarrels, and brave such 
 as were still in Somerset's interest. 
 
 Among tbose who courted tbe rising favourite, 
 none was more zealous tlian Sir Francis ]5acon ; as 
 none was able to serve bim more nobly, or more 
 usefully. Villiers bad at tbis time sense enough to 
 feel bis inex])erience in l)usiiu^ss, and tlierefore bad 
 recourse to our autlior for bis advice : Avbicb be gave 
 him fully in a letter, still extant among his works ; 
 
 VoL°l'ii. written with so su])eri()r a judgment and so much 
 
 A<ivi<<- to lionest freedom, that it does honour equally to his head 
 
 Sir G. \ ii. ' ^ ^
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. Xxix 
 
 and heart. He has miigcd his thoughts under seven 
 or ciglit principal topics of consideration, and entered 
 into an accurate detail of what a minister onglit to 
 know and practise. In another letter to him, he has 
 these remarkahle words : ''It is now time that you 
 " should refer your actions chiefly to the good of your 
 " sovereign, and your country. It is the life of a 
 " beast always to eat, and never to exercise. In 
 " this dedication of yourself to the pu])lic, I recom- 
 " mend to you principally that which I think was 
 " never done since I was born, and which, not done, 
 " hath bred almost a wilderness and solitude in the 
 " king's service : which is, tliat you countenance, 
 " and encourage, and advance able and virtuous men 
 *' in all kinds, degrees, and professions." This ex- 
 cellent advice the favourite received with thankful- 
 ness ; and neglected. 
 
 Though the king's passion was now wliolly di- An. 16I6, 
 verted upon a new object, he still affected to treat 
 Somerset with kindness and distinction ; even after 
 the discovery of his being an accomplice in poisoning 
 Sir Thomas Overbury had rendered this dissimulation 
 not only mean but criminal. Yet he continued it to wiiM.n. 
 the last, embracing with fondness the man whom he ''" 
 had secretly ordered to be arrested : and entreating 
 him to hasten his return, when he believed he should 
 ne^■er see him more. In such trifles he was fond to 
 exert his talent of political iiunagement. The carl's 
 unhappy passion for tlic young countess of Essex 
 was the source of all his misfortunes, and drew after 
 it the most terrible consequences : endirig, as I have 
 already observed, in the nuu'der of his friend ; in tlic 
 ruin of himself, and of licr to wliom lie liad trcache-. 
 rously sacrificed that friend Tlic wliole aflf'air is 
 displayed at full length in our author's cliarges 
 against these two prime agents in tliat infernal con- 
 spiracy. They were both found guilty, sentenced .Mayi>4, 
 to die, and afterwards pardoned by the king, iiot- j';J^^\'r', 
 withstanding his solemn imprecations to the contrary, 1. p. ssi. 
 on himself and his posterity. ^^^'
 
 XXX THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 Certain historians lia"\'e remarked, tliat there was 
 something, in the behavionr of Somerset before his 
 trial, singular and mysterious ; and that his master 
 likewise seemed to labour under a secret anxiety of 
 mind, equally surprising. The earl, they pretend, 
 said aloud in the Tower, that the king durst not 
 bring him to a trial. Others reject this account as 
 a downright calumny, invented merely to fix a black 
 and cruel imputation on that prince's memory : or 
 affirm at least that it was founded only in popular 
 rumour and malicious conjecture. But that there was 
 more in it than conjecture, may be proved by un- 
 doubted authority ; by some original letters of Sir 
 Francis Bacon, then Actorney General, and particu- 
 larly emj^loyed in this very affair. Those letters 
 have, I think, escaped the observation of all our 
 writers : I shall therefore quote from them such pas- 
 sages as may serve to throw some light on this dark 
 transaction ; though not enough perhaps to discover 
 the darker motives that influenced the king's and the 
 earl's behaviour in it. 
 Bacon, Jamcs himsclf selected certain persons to examine 
 
 Letter Somersct with all secrecy, and marked out to them 
 cxxxvi. ^i^^ particular articles on which they were to interro- 
 gate him. They had withal orders to work upon his 
 obstinate temper by every method of persuasion and 
 terror : to give him now hopes of the king's compas- 
 sion and mercy ; and now to assure him that the 
 evidence was full to convict him, so as there needed 
 neither confession nor supply of examination. Ba- 
 con, who was one of them, adds that they found his 
 deportment sober and modest, different apparently 
 from other times. In anotlier letter he has these 
 Vol. V. remarkable words; " That same little charm 
 *' which may be secretly infused into Somerset's ear 
 " some hours before his trial, was excellently well 
 " thought of by his majesty : only I could wish it a 
 '* little enlarged ; for if it be no more but to spare his 
 " blood, lie hatli a kind of proud luunour tliat may 
 " over-work the medicine." All this was to be done 
 with much caution and privacy ; for the very ser- 
 
 Letter 
 
 CXXXIX
 
 LORD CIlANCELLOrv BACON. XXXi 
 
 jeaiits, appointed to niaiiao:e ])art of the trial, were 
 not yet in the secret how the king would have it car- 
 ried on : and tliercfore Bacon, to cover from them 
 wliat lie knew of tlie matter, desired tliat some ge- 
 neral heads of direction might be sent to them all. 
 From hence it a])pear:s that James shewed an ex- 
 treme solicitude about the earl's behaviour, and the 
 event of this affair. To what can it be attributed ? 
 His affection for Somerset was extinguished : and he 
 lay under the strongest obligations of public honour 
 and justice not to screen, from the censure of the 
 law, a man whose guilt was of the most crying enor- 
 mity. The earl's standing mute, or denying that 
 guilt, especially as the proofs of it were strong and 
 pregnant, could bring no possible imputation on his 
 name. ^Vhy then all this dark practice ? all these 
 artifices of the persons who examined him, only to 
 make him submit to be tried, and to keep him in due 
 temper during his trial ? There is still more. James Bacon, 
 ordered his Attorney General to forecast and put in l"j"J' 
 writing every possible case with regard to the trial, cxxxviu. 
 and accompany them with his own opinion on each ; 
 that no surprise might happen, but that things duly 
 foreseen might have their directions and remedies in 
 readiness. According-ly Sir Francis Bacon sent a 
 writing of that purport, on which there are several 
 observations in the king's own hand. I will only 
 quote one passage from it : " All these points of 
 " mercy and favour to Somerset are to be understood 
 " with this limitation ; if he do not, by his con- 
 " temptuous and insolent carriage at the bar, make 
 *' himself incapable and unworthy of them." The 
 king's lemark in the margin is in these words : " That 
 " danger is well to be foreseen, lest he upon the one 
 " part commit unpardonable errors ; and I on the 
 " other part seem to punish him in the spirit of 
 " revenge." Somerset was not to be tried for any 
 offence against the king ; but for the barbarous mur- 
 der of a private man and his friend. "^Vhat then 
 means the contemptuous carriage that is so much ap- 
 prehended ? What are the unpardonable errors it may
 
 XXXii THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 lead him to commit? If lie reflected on a master, to 
 whom he had been so much obliged, oidy for giving 
 him up to a fair and equal trial, to a trial by many 
 circumstances rendered inevitable ; that would, in 
 the opinion of all mankind, only aggravate his crime, 
 and furnish a new motive to that master for letting 
 the sentence of justice pass upon him in all its rigour. 
 Court vf After these particulars, I may venture to mention a 
 p. iod."" fact related by JSir Antony Weldon, who says, that 
 when the lieutenant of the Tower, Sir George JMore, 
 came and told the earl he must prepare for his trial 
 on the morrow, he absolutely refused to appear un- 
 less they dragged him to it by violence ; adding, that 
 the king durst not bring him to trial. Astonished at 
 such rash and dangerous expressions, the lieutenant, 
 though it was then midnight, went and demanded 
 an audience of the king, to inform him of what had 
 passed. James, upon hearing his story, burst into a 
 passion of tears, and entreated ]\Iore to use his 
 utmost skill upon his prisoner and soothe him, by 
 whatever means, into proper temper and submission. 
 This More undertook to do, and by a stratagem 
 effected it. Weldon affirms he had this story from 
 the lieutenant's own mouth: and though he is a partial 
 writer, and indulges himself in a humour of licentious 
 scandal, the authentic vouchers I have jnoduced 
 render his anecdote not improbable. Other circum- 
 stances, mentioned by those who have professedly 
 written of this reign, I therefore omit, and shall only 
 Cabala, ^f\^[^ ^jj-it thcrc is iu the Cabala a letter to king 
 edit. 1691. James from Somerset after his condemnation, of a 
 very peculiar turn. He desires that his estate may 
 be continued to him entire, in a style rather of expos- 
 tulation and demand than of humility and supplica- 
 tion : and through the affected obscurity of some ex- 
 pressions, one may discover, that there was an im- 
 portant secret in his keeping of which the king 
 dreaded a discovery. The issue was, that James 
 continued to him a pension of four thousand pounds 
 a year, as long as he lived. 
 
 Prince Henry died in the year 1612, universally
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. XXXllI 
 
 lamented. His excellent qualities had endeared him 
 to tlic love and expectations of all England. Ger- 
 manicus was not more the darling of the Roman 
 jieople : and the untimely death of both those princes 
 was universally believed to have been procured by 
 poison, lie had expressed, on all occasions, an ab- 
 horrence of minions, and an utter contempt of 
 Somerset : he had even declared a firm resolution, to 
 humble both him and the family into which he was 
 allied, if ever he came to reign. Whether the unac- 
 countable transaction I liave been relating has any 
 reference to the death of this amiable prince, or whe- 
 ther it does not point rather to an affair of a very 
 different nature, the reader is left to determine. 
 
 Villiers, now without a rival in the king's affec- 
 tions, was every day receiving new proofs of his 
 bounty ; at the same time that he more than shared 
 with him the exercise of his authority. In the course 
 of a few years he was made Gentleman of the bed- 
 chamber, JNlaster of the horse, Knight of the garter, 
 earl, marquis and duke of Buckingham, Chief justice 
 in eyre of all the forests, and lord High Admiral of 
 England. One of those prodigies of fortune, who 
 rise now and then upon the world, as the vulgar 
 imagine of comets, at once to astonish and scourge 
 it : a signal instance of the wantoiniess of sovereign 
 power, and how far it may insult human kind in 
 exalting and adorning what it should neglect or con- 
 temn. He drew up after him an obscure kindred, 
 numerous and indigent, bestowed on them places of 
 trust and profit, married them into the noblest families, 
 and graced them all with dignities, which were to be 
 supported at the common cxpence of a whole people ; 
 to whom if any one of them was merely harmless, it 
 was his utmost praise. After having read, not only 
 what the enemies of this favourite have said against 
 lum, but all that his partizans ha^ c alledgcd on his 
 behalf, I do not find, during the whole time of his 
 influence under two reigns, an influence supreme and 
 unbounded, that he ever projected one scheme for the 
 benefit of his country, or ever executed one under- 
 
 VOL. I. ' d
 
 XXXIV THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 taking to its honour ; the only great criterion by 
 Avhich we ought to judge those men that administer 
 the public. The breaking off the Spanish match at 
 last was solely a sacrifice to his own vanity and re- 
 sentment. On the caprice of this youth, liowever, 
 the first and ablest men in the kingdom were to de- 
 pend entirely, for their access ;it court, for their 
 advancement, for any opportunity of being able to 
 serve their country and their sovereign. Sir Francis 
 Bacon was sensible of this, and courted his friendship 
 with a particular application. But he must have felt 
 all the servitude and disagrceableness of his situation, 
 Bacon. when, to be well with the king, he found it necessary 
 Zvuf]' to tiu'U steward to the estate newly bestowed on this 
 cLxvr. young man ; to study the ways and means of im- 
 proving his lands, and of rendering his places most 
 profitable to him. It is true he found his account in 
 this service ; as it proved the surest means of his 
 own preferment : but, to a great and worthy mind, 
 preferment so meanly obtained is disgrace, only a 
 little disguised and gilded over. 
 
 The Lord Chancellor Jl)gerton, broken with age 
 and infirmities, liad often petitioned the king to be 
 dismissed from his laborious employment. He was 
 now seventy-seven years old, and had presided in the 
 court of cliancery from the year 1596, with an un- 
 blemished reputation as a judge in privr.te cases ; but 
 his public conduct had been always framed to the 
 directions of the court with an obsequiousness of 
 dangerous example in one, who lielu so great and 
 important a trust. To this high dignity Sir Francis 
 Bacon privately aspired : and as it was the utmost 
 scope of his ambition, he liad aimed all his endeavours 
 in the king's service to merit it at liis hands. He 
 took care, at the same time, to strengthen his pre- 
 tensions by the credit of Buckingliam. His ambition 
 even made him descend to artifices, tliat are as com- 
 mon in courts, as they are mean and unwarrantable ; 
 for lie endeavoured to ruin in tlie king's good opi- 
 nion such men as the voice of the public might 
 probably design to the same office, and whom he 
 therefore considered as his rivals. He was parti- 
 
 Cahala 
 p. 219
 
 I.OrvD CHANCELLOR BACON. XXXV 
 
 cularly jealous of Sir Eilward Coke, and represented Racon, 
 liim as one who abounded in liis own sense; one l^^'^/ 
 who affected popnhuity, and hkely to court the good cxxvu. 
 will of the nation at the hazard of the prerogative. 
 For himself, he })laccd his great merit in obedience 
 and submission ; in the interest he had among the 
 (^ommons, and in being able to influence the lower 
 liousc of parliament : a service which he magnifies 
 as more important in a Chancellor, than to judge in 
 equity between party and ])arty. This opinion of 
 his own popularity in the nation was not groundless. 
 The parliament that met in 1614, though extremely Petyfs 
 out of humour with the ministers in general, distin- p!j°7/am. 
 guished him by an uncommon mark of favour and p. i74. 
 confidence. An objection having been started in 
 the house of commons, that a seat there was in- 
 compatible with the office of Attorney General, 
 which required his frequent attendance in the upper 
 house : the commons, from their particular regard 
 for Sir Francis Bacon, and for that time only, over- 
 ruled the objection ; and he was accordingly allowed 
 to take his place among them. If I observe farther, 
 that the king raised him to the dignity of a privy- 
 counsellor while he was still in this very office, it 
 will be instead, of many instances to shew, with what 
 an addressful prudence he steered his course betwixt 
 the court and the nation. He was thus favoured by 
 a ])rince, who exacted from all his servants an im- 
 plicit submission to his maxims of government : he 
 gave no umbrage to a parliament whom these maxims 
 had rendered jealous of tlie prince, and of almost 
 every man in his favour. But to return. 
 
 These insinuations had their desired effect. Upon An. leir. 
 the Chancellor's voluntary resignation of the seals, 
 they were given to Sir Francis Bacon, with the title 
 of lord Keeper, on the seventh of JMarch 1617- To Bacon 
 what interest he more particularly owed this pro- ]^'^l^^' 
 motion we may learn from his letter of acknowledge- cLxm. 
 ment, written that very day, to tlic earl of Buck- 
 ingham. 
 
 A few days after he had the seals delivered to him, 
 d 2
 
 XXXVl THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 the king went a progress into Scotland, carrying with 
 him the favourite, who was hkewise his prime mini- 
 ster : for to him all business, public or private, was 
 addressed ; and, according to his fancy, for the most 
 part determined. The great affair that employed the 
 deliberations of his council about this time, and had 
 a fatal influence on his conduct ever after, was the 
 marriage of prince Charles with the Infanta of Spain. 
 In this resolution, though contrary to all the rules of 
 good policy, he persisted for seven years together ; 
 against his own interest, against the universal voice 
 of his people : only to procure the imaginary honour 
 of an alliance with a crowned head ; for all other 
 BacQi), alliances he thought below his dignity. Sir Francis 
 Letter ' Bacon, who saw through the vanity and danger of 
 cLxxv. ^iijs intention, but who wanted resolution to be 
 greatly honest, contented himself with insinuating 
 softly, that it would be necessary to have the council 
 unanimous in tlieir suffrage on the occasion, what- 
 ever might be their private sentiments. This hint 
 was not sufficient to open the king's eyes. On the 
 contrary, he run blindfold into the snare that Gun- 
 damor was spreading for him. That famous states- 
 man, as much by his buffooneries as by his talent for 
 intrigue, had gained an absolute ascendant over 
 James, leading him on from error to error : till in the 
 end he made him sacrifice his conscience to the pope, 
 and his honour to tlie resentments of Philij), in the 
 murder of his bravest subject, Sir Walter Raleigh ; 
 the last terror of Spain, and the only surviving favou- 
 rite of Queen Elizabeth. The Dutch too made ad- 
 vantage of the king's weakness and necessities. As 
 R^P'"- the cautionary towns were still in the hands of the 
 English, the States were under some apprehensions 
 that the Spanish ministry might prevail upon James, 
 who could not possibly conceal his fondness for 
 the matcli in treaty, to put tliosc important places 
 into tlu'ir power. They knew at the same time 
 that his treasury was exhausted, and that his courtiers 
 were insatiable. 'i'o bring their purpose about, 
 they ceased all at once to pay the English who
 
 LOTID CIIAXCKLLOII BACON. XXXVll 
 
 garrisoned tliose places, as by tlieir treaties they 
 were obliged to do. Complaint being made of 
 this to the Dutch envoy at London, he insinuated, 
 as from himself, to some of the ministers, that if 
 king James would desire it of the States, they would, 
 out of consideration for him, take up money at 
 exorbitant interest, and in one payment discharge 
 the whole debt due to the crown of England. This 
 stratagem took effect. James wrote to the States ; 
 and the matter was immediately put into negotia- 
 tion. The pensionary J5arnevelt, whom they sent 
 over, conducted the affair with so much address, 
 that the king agreed to deliver up the cautionary 
 towns for less than three millions of florins, in lieu 
 of eight millions they had engaged to pay Elizabeth, 
 besides the interest that had been running on for 
 eighteen years. Such are the events of this reign ; 
 fit only to depress the writer, and distaste the reader. 
 During the king's absence in Scotland there hap- 
 pened an affair, otherwise of small importance, but 
 as it lets us into the true genius of those times, and 
 serves to shew in what miserable subjection the fa- 
 vourite held all those who v>ere in public employ- 
 ments. He was upon the point of ruining Sir 
 Francis Bacon, the person he had just contributed 
 to raise, not for any error or negligence in their 
 master's service, but merely for an opinion given in 
 a thing that only regarded his own family. In- 
 deed such was the levity, such the insolence of his 
 power, that the capricious removal of men from their 
 places became the prime distinction of his thirteen 
 years favour ; wliich, as bisliop Hacket observes, was lko of 
 like a sweeping Hood, that at every spring-tide takes j^.^''i^- ^^'' 
 from one land to cast what it has taken upon ano- Vnn \\. 
 ther. The affair was this. The year before, my lord ''" ^'^' 
 Coke had been removed from his place of Chief 
 Justice, and disgraced : the court having found him, 
 in several instances, no friend to arbitrary will and 
 pleasure, or to the prerogative, as it was called ; but 
 resolutely bent to maintain tlie integrity and honour 
 of his post. One Peacham had been accused of in-
 
 CXLV 
 
 XXXVlll THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 sertiiig in a sermon several passages accounted trea- 
 sonable, for it seems they reflected on the ministry ; 
 but in a sermon never preached, nor ever intended to 
 be made pnblic. The king, who was beyond measure 
 jealous on this head, fearing the man might either be 
 acquitted on his trial, or not condemned to a capital 
 y*?°y punishment, had ordered his attorney general Bacon 
 Letter to souud the judgcs beforc-liand, and gather their 
 txii. opinions secretly and apart. My lord Coke obsti- 
 nately refused to declare his ; looking on this auri- 
 cular taking of opinions, for so he named it, as 
 not according to the custom of the realm, but new, 
 and of pernicious tendency. About the same time 
 he had determined a cause at common law. The 
 Bacon, plaintiff, who thought himself injured, would not 
 Letter ' ^bidc by his decision, but applied to chancery for 
 cxxviii, relief: where the defendant refused to appear, dis- 
 claiming the authority of that court : in which he 
 was supported by the Chief Justice, who threat- 
 ened the Chancellor with a premunire, grounded 
 on a statute made 27th Edw. III. for thus in- 
 vading the limits of his jurisdiction. The king, who 
 thought his prerogative struck at anew in this attack 
 on the court of his absolute power, as Bacon styles 
 it, had the matter examined before the council ; 
 who condemned the Chief Justice for what he liad 
 done, and obliged him to make a submission on his 
 knees. But what completed the distaste taken at 
 him, was his behaviour in a cause of the bishop 
 of Litchfield and Coventry, to whom the king had 
 granted a vacant church in commaidam. Serjeant 
 Letter Chiborne, who was counsel against the bisliop, in 
 arguing the case had maintained several positions, 
 reckoned prejudicial and derogatory to the king's su- 
 preme and imperial power, which was affirmed to be 
 distinct from, and of a higher nature than his ordinary 
 autliority. Informed of tliis, James, by bis attorney 
 general 15acon, ordered the judges to stay further 
 proceedings in tliat business, till they had consulted 
 with hinL Tlic judges assembled, and unanimously 
 agTccd, that they could not obey this order ; that 
 
 CXI.V, 
 
 cxi.vir.
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACOX. XXXIX 
 
 the letter they had l•ecei^■ed \vas contrary to law ; that 
 by their oath and the duty of their places they were 
 not to delay justice ; that they had therefore proceeded 
 in the canse at the time fixed : and of this they certified 
 the king in a writing under all their hands. Upon 
 this remonstrance, he writ them an angry letter, and 
 peremptorily commanded them to stay all proceed- 
 ings, till his return to London. They were then 
 snmmoncd before the council, and sharply repri- 
 manded for suffering the popular lawyers to question 
 his prerogative, which was represented as sacred and 
 transcendent, not to be handled or mentioned in vid- 
 gar argument. At last raising his voice, to frighten 
 them into submission, he put this question to them 
 severally : " If, at any time, in a case depending be- 
 " fore the judges, he conceived it to concern him 
 '• either in profit or power, and thereupon required to 
 " consult with them, and that they should stay pro- 
 " ceedings in the mean time ; whether they ought 
 " nor to stay them accordingly? " They all, the Chief 
 Justice only excepted, acknowledged it their duty 
 to do so. His answer deserves to be for ever re- 
 membered : " That when such a case happened, he Bacon, 
 " would do that which should be fit for a iudffe to)"'-^'* 
 
 O o Letter 
 
 " do." CXLVIII. 
 
 Yet this great lawyer, who had the honest courage 
 to resist tlie king to his face, wanted that inde- 
 jiendence of mind whicli alone enables a man to 
 bear solitude, and an acquaintance with himself. 
 His disgrace, which reflected more honour on him 
 than all his preferments, he was unable to support ; 
 and therefore he soon after sued to be reinstated in 
 the king's favour. To recover it, he meanly enough 
 courted the favourite with an offer, which he would 
 not hear of when it was formerly made to him. 
 While in power, he had refused to give his daughter \'oi. v. 
 in marriaoe to Sir John A^illiers, not without marks ^^'*^'" 
 of disrespect: he now submissively intreated thecxxl 
 same person to honoiu- him with his alliance : and 
 employed Secretary Winwood to inform the earl of 
 Buckingham of his extreme concern for what had
 
 xl 
 
 THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 Bacon, 
 Letter 
 
 CXLII, to 
 
 L. Coke. 
 
 Letter 
 
 CLXXXIV. 
 
 passed with regard to the earl's brother ; that he now 
 passionately wished the treaty might be renewed and 
 accomplished ; adding, that they should make their 
 own terms of settlement, if his proposal was ac- 
 cepted. As the young lady was not only a celebrated 
 beauty, but a great fortune, the person most interested 
 made no difficulty to close with this proposal ; and 
 his mother recommended it to her second son with 
 warmth. This alarmed the lord keeper Bacon. Ever 
 jealous of Coke's reputation, and at odds with him, 
 he dreaded his alliance with so powerful a family. 
 His imagination suggested to him all the danger that 
 threatened his present and future fortunes from this 
 union : and he could not forget that he had lately 
 treated his antagonist with a freedom that rather in- 
 sulted than admonished him. These apprehensions 
 made him cast about how to defeat the intended 
 match, by raising such objections to it as might touch 
 the king and his favourite in point of public honour 
 and advantage. His letters to both, on that occa- 
 sion, are written with the perplexity of a man who 
 fears something he is unwilling to own ; which yet 
 his prudence passes over with a seeming unconcern, 
 to enlarge only upon considerations that regard those 
 whom he would be thought to serve. But this ma- 
 nagement proved ineffectual. It was resented by the 
 earl of Buckingham, and checked by a rough answer 
 from the king. The lady Compton too, informed 
 of the part he was acting, gave a loose to her tongue, 
 and railed at him with a bitterness natural to women 
 when they arc thwarted in any favourite pursuit of 
 interest or passion. Having thus, to prevent a distant 
 and uncertain danger, involved himself in one that 
 was real and immediate, he made no scruple to change 
 sides at once ; to go directly against his former opi- 
 nion ; and to offer miasked his interest in the young 
 lady's mother for promoting the match he had just 
 been labouring to disappoint. On such trivial acci- 
 dents do the fortunes of ministers depend : and to 
 such little and sliameful arts is ambition often obliged 
 to stoop. Nor even thus did lie presently regain his
 
 I-ORD CHANCELLOR BACON. XH 
 
 credit with Buckingham. The family continued to 
 load him with reproaches ; and he remained long 
 under that agony of heart which an aspiring man must 
 feel, wlien his power and dignity are at the mercy 
 of a king's minion, young, and giddy with liis eleva- 
 tion, and who thinks himself offended. Tliey were 
 however reconciled at last ; and their friendship, if 
 ohsequiousness in one to all the humours of the other 
 deserves the name of friendsliip, continued without 
 interruption for some years ; while 13uckingham went 
 on daily to place and dis])lace the great officers of the 
 crown, as wantonness of fancy, or anger, or interest 
 led him ; to recommend or discountenance every pri- 
 vate person who had a suit depending in any court, 
 just as he was influenced ; to authorize and protect 
 every illegal project, that could serve most speedily 
 to enrich himself or his kindred. In a word, he he- 
 caine formidable even to the master who had raised 
 him from the dust, and who should have srill awed 
 him by his authority : and this amidst the dissipation 
 of a life, given up to idle amusements, or sullied with 
 criminal pleasures. 
 
 In tlie beginning of 1619, Sir Francis Bacon was An. igi9. 
 created lord high Chancellor of England, and sliortly 
 after baron of Verulam ; which title he exchanged, 
 the year following, lor that of viscount 8t. Albans. 
 8uch events in his life as these may be passed over 
 slightly : he was so great a man, that external honours 
 could add no lustre to his name. Indeed had they 
 been the immediate reward of those nobler services 
 he had done, and was still meditating to do his 
 country, they might deserve more particular notice, 
 for the sake of him who bestowed them. 
 
 Neither the weight and variety of business, nor the 
 pomps of a court, could divert his attention from the 
 study of phi]osophy. Those were his avocations and 
 incumbrances; this was his beloved employment, and 
 almost the only pleasure in which he indulged his 
 freer and better hours. He gave to the public in 
 1020 his Novum Orgauo7i, as a second part to his An. icso. 
 grand Instauration of the Sciences : a work that for
 
 Xlii THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 twelve years together he had been metlioclizing', alter- 
 ing, polishing ; till he had laboured the whole into 
 a series of Aphorisms, as it now appears. Of all 
 his ^vritings this seems to have undergone the strict- 
 est revision, and to be finished with the severest 
 judgment. Indeed the form into which it is cast 
 admits of nothing foreign, of nothing merely orna- 
 mental. The lights and embellishments of imagina- 
 tion, the grace and harmony of style, are rejected 
 here, as beauties either superfluous, or of an inferior 
 nature. The author has, besides, made use of several 
 xerms in a new and peculiar sense, which may have 
 discouraged some readers, as it has made others ima- 
 gine them equally unintelligible with the horrors of 
 a vacuum, the quiddities, and substantial forms, of 
 the philosophy which he attempted to discredit : and 
 therefore, of all his writings it has been the least 
 read, or understood. It was hitended as a more use- 
 ful, a more extensive logic than the world had yet 
 been acquainted watli; an art not conversant about 
 syllogisms, and modes of argumentation, that maybe 
 serviceable sometimes in arranging truths already 
 known, or in detecting fallacies that lie concealed 
 amonff our own reasoninsrs and those of other men ; 
 but an art inventive of arts ; productive of new dis- 
 coveries, real, important, and of general use to hiunan 
 life. This he proposed, by turning our attention 
 from notions to things ; from those subtle and frivo- 
 lous speculations that dazzle, not enliglitcn, the un- 
 derstanding, to a sober and sensible investigation of 
 the laws and ])owers of nature, in a way becoming 
 sages who make truth and information the sole aim 
 of their inquiries. In order to this, his first endeavour 
 was to weed out of the mind such errors as naturally 
 grow in it, or have been planted there by education, 
 and cherished by the influence of men. whose writ- 
 ings had long claimed a right of prescription to rule 
 and mislead mankind. To a mind thus prepared for 
 instruction, he proposes the second and scientifical 
 part of his scheme, the true method of interpreting 
 nature, by fact and obser^•ation ; by sound and ge-
 
 LORD CHANCELI.O]{ UACOX. xliii 
 
 nuine induction, \vidcly differing- from that puerile 
 art which till then hud solely prevailed in philosophy. 
 His requires a sufficient, an accurate collection of in- 
 stances, gathered with sagacity and recorded with 
 impartial plainness, on both sides of the question : 
 from which, after viewing them in all possible lights, 
 to be sure that no contradictory instances can be 
 brought, some portion of useful truth, leading on to 
 further discoveries, may be at last fairly deduced. 
 In this way, experiments and reasonings grow u]> 
 together, to support and illustrate each other mutu- 
 ally, in every part of science. 
 
 As we are now approaching tow^ards the most An. 1621. 
 memorable event of our author's public life, which 
 ended in a melancholy reverse of his fortune and 
 honour, it will be necessary to trace, step by step, the 
 causes that produced it : esj)ccially as the affair has 
 not been hitherto considered in the point of view that 
 renders it most interesting and instructive. It will, I 
 believe, appear with evidence, that, whatever his 
 crimes might be, he was sacrificed to the safety of 
 another, far more criminal than himself: and that 
 this was the act of an ill-judging master, with whom 
 it was a greater merit to be amusing in any degree, 
 than to be serviceable in the greatest. 
 
 Among the weaknesses of king James, his vanity 
 was the most pernicious to his own family, and to 
 the nation in general. He ])laced an infinite value 
 on certain chimerical advantages that met in his per- 
 son ; on that inherent riglit by which, he pretended, 
 the crown of ICngland was devolved to him ; on his 
 long acquaintance witli the prime mysteries of govern- 
 ment, and on his unconnnon accomplishments in 
 learning. His favoinite maxim was, that he who 
 knows not how to dissemble, knows not how to 
 reign : but he seems not to have heard of a second 
 maxim, without whicli tlie first cannot be successful, 
 even for a time ; to conceal every appearance of 
 cunning, and to deceive under the guise of candour 
 and good faith. He, on the contrary, shewed his 
 whole game at once, to his own subjects and to
 
 Xliv THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 foreigners alike : so that in his attempts upon the 
 former, in his negotiations with tlie latter, this Solo- 
 mon was the only dn})e. A great share of learning 
 he certainly had, bnt of learning that a king onght 
 not to be acquainted with ; the very refuse of the 
 schools, which served for little else but to furnish 
 him with an impertinent fluency, on every subject : 
 and he indulged himself in the sovereign pedantry 
 of setting it. to show, on every occasion. On all these 
 heads, he was extolled without measure by the most 
 pestilent of flatterers, grave and reverend ecclesiastics : 
 for which, and because they encouraged him in an 
 iinprincely application of his talent, he, on many 
 occasions, made his power the mean instrument to 
 gratify their passions and lust of dominion. They, 
 in return, found out for him a title antecedent and 
 superior to human laws, even a divine right of being 
 weak or wicked, without controul. And this doctrine, 
 horrible as it is, they dared to derive from Scripture : 
 where if it could be found, which to affirm were 
 blasphemy, it would be the triumph of infidelity, and 
 demonstration that those sacred writings were inspired, 
 not by God, but by some being, his opposite and 
 the enemy of all goodness. This doctrine, meeting 
 with his own perverted habits of tliinking, made 
 king James look upon his subjects as slaves ; upon 
 his parliaments as usurpers of a power to which they 
 had no right, or at best a precarious one : and he had 
 now, for seven years togetlicr, affected to govern with- 
 out them ; to set up an interest separate from that 
 of his people, and to su])])ly liis wants by all ways 
 and means, but such as the constitution prescribed, 
 ilacket, These metliods were suggested to liim by the worst 
 p. 50. enemies of tlie commonwealth, the tribe of projectors 
 and monopolists : miscreants who slicltered them- 
 selves under the name and influence of Buckingham, 
 and who repaid his protection extravagantly, at the 
 expence of a people whom they w^re grinding and 
 devouring. His mother too, now created a countess 
 in lier own right, a woman born for mischief, of a 
 meddling spirit and insatiably greedy, was deep in
 
 LORD CHANCEI.LOR BACON. xlv 
 
 the guilt of these transactions ; forwarding every bad 
 project that brouglit her in money; and, by the 
 mighty poAvcr slie Jiad over her son, succeeding in 
 every scandalous job slic undertook, lender an ad- 
 ministration like this, when England was in effect 
 governed by a dissolute youth, himself in the hands 
 of an intriguing, ra})acious woman, it cannot be sur- 
 ])rising that the people were vexed and j)lundered by 
 illegal patents, by monopolies, by other mischievous 
 projects, calculated to enrich a few, and to ruin 
 thousands. To all these patents, however procured, 
 the chancellor had readily, almost implicitly, affixed 
 the seal, as the mere creature of Buckingham : or if 
 he ever ventured to insinuate that any of them were 
 contrary to law, his remonstrance was too fearful 
 and unsupported to produce any effect. This is the 
 great stain on his character, that he deserted, or neg- 
 lected, the post of honour where Providence had ])laced 
 him, on the frontier, if I may so speak, betwixt 
 Prerogative and 1 -liberty ; that, if he did not encou- 
 rage, he at least connived at, the invasions that were 
 every day making into the latter. Yet this was against 
 his inclination, as well as against his better sense of 
 things ; for as he knew well that his master's true 
 interest lay in a good understanding with his people, 
 he had often advised him to call frequent parliaments, 
 and to throw himself on the affections of the nation 
 for the support of his government. Though such 
 advice was repugnant to all the maxims by which 
 that monarch wished to establish his power ; though 
 he had resolved to lay parliaments aside for ever, as 
 daring encroachcrs u}>on his prerogative, who made 
 themselves greater and their prince less than became 
 either : yet he was now prevailed upon to meet the 
 two houses once more. Indeed the exigency of his 
 affairs rendered it necessary. His subjects, it is true, 
 were harassed and pillaged ; but he was still in ex- 
 treme want of money : those wretches, to whom he 
 delegated his authority, leaving to him little else 
 besides the public hatred, occasioned by their rapines 
 committed in his name. Add to this, that the June-
 
 Xlvi THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 ture appeared favourable for obtaining large supplies 
 from the commons. As the whole body of the nation 
 expressed an uncommon zeal for recovering the Pala- 
 tinate to his unfortunate son-in-law, he had reason to 
 expect, tliat, on the assurance of his entering heartily 
 into a war, they would vote him considerable aids of 
 monev ; which he might afterwards divert, as he 
 actually did, to other purposes that better suited his 
 genius and notions. 
 
 A parliament was accordingly summoned : and it 
 met on the 20th of January, 1621. The king was 
 not wholly mistaken in his conjecture : for the com- 
 mons immediately voted him two entire subsidies : 
 but went at the same time upon a strict enquiry into 
 those arbitrary impositions, that, in a period of seven 
 years, were become insupportable to the people. 
 Among the monopolies, in particular, there were 
 three of flagrant injustice and oppression. Certain 
 persons had obtained patents from the king, which 
 impowered them to set an annual fine on such as 
 kept inns, or alehouses, throughout England. AVith- 
 out a licence from the patentees, no man could hold 
 either : and whoever would not readily pay the sum, 
 at which tliosc low instruments of power thought fit 
 to excise him, was sure of being harassed and plun- 
 dered, or thrown into a jail. This proved a fruitful 
 source of vexations, and fell heavy on the poorer sort. 
 The third was yet more enormous ; a patent for the 
 sole making and vending of gold and silver lace, 
 which had been granted to two infamous tools of the 
 favourite, JMompesson and Miclicl ; the Dudley and 
 Empson of that age. The first a man of fortune, 
 whose sole ambition was to make himself considered, 
 though but by his crimes : the other an obscure 
 justice of the peace, who, in a remote quarter of the 
 town, picked up a sordid maintenance from the 
 stews. They had, it seems, shamefully abused the 
 power their exclusive patent gave them, by putting 
 off, for true, great quantities of counterfeit lace, 
 wrought up and embased with copper, or other ma- 
 terials of a poisonous nature : and whoever presumed
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. xlvii 
 
 to make or sell any other was cruelly punished, by 
 fine and imprisonment. In these outrages they were Hackn, 
 the more daring, because Sir Edward Villiers, half- l^lyjj'-'- 
 brother to the favourite, was associated into their 
 patent, though not named in it. These, with many 
 other grievances, were laid open in parliament, and 
 severely censured. JJut the commons did not stop 
 here. They were for carrying their search up to 
 the prime cause of iiU grievances, in order to discover 
 by whose influence the several patents had been pro- 
 cured, and how tliey had passed the seals. Com- 
 plaints were brouglit into the house, about tlic same 
 time, of corrupt practices even in the higli court of 
 Equity. This alarmed the king for his chancellor, 
 and still more for his minion : as private intimation 
 had been sent to Buckingham, of a severe scrutiny Cahaia 
 that was making into all his management, and of '^''"''^ ^^ 
 frequent meetings that were held, with great secrecy, 
 by certain members of the lower house ; in order to 
 fix on him the guilt of whatever was most imjustifia- 
 ble and oppressive. Buckingham's creatures, anxious 
 and alarmed at this intelligence, persuaded him that 
 he could secure impunity to himself and them, only 
 by bringing his master forthwith to dissolve the 
 parliament : and James liad certainly been frightened 
 into that rash and hazardous step, but for the sober 
 remonstrances of AVilliains dean of AV^estminster, 
 That politic courtier advised him to cancel at once, 
 by proclamation, all monopolies and vexatious grants; 
 to sacrifice inferior criminals to the public resent- 
 ment, and to soothe the })arliament with an assurance 
 that this reformation was first proposed by his favou- 
 rite, on finding how much he had been abused by 
 designing and knavisli projectors. This counsel the 
 king resolved to follow ; but it did not Avholly free 
 him from the perplexity he was under. The chan- 
 cellor, whom his interest led him to preserve, was 
 openly accused of corruption : the favourite, whom 
 his tenderness could not resign, was secretly, and 
 therefore more dangerously attacked ; as the encou- 
 rager, if not the author, of whatever was deemed
 
 Xlviii THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 Bushel's most illegal and oppressive. To save both, at this 
 Polt^' juncture, would be impossible: and he found he 
 p-2,3. must either part with the object of his inclinations, 
 or with the oracle of his counsels. How such a 
 2>rince would determine, is easy to guess. His pas- 
 sion prevailed over his reason : and my lord 8t. Al- 
 bans was made the scape-goat of Buckingham. He 
 was even obliged to abandon his defence. As he had 
 gained universal esteem by his learning ; and as his 
 eloquence was equal to his parts, superior and com- 
 manding, the king would not hazard his appearing 
 before the lords to plead his own cause. In the course 
 of such an inquiry, he miglit have diverted the public 
 odium from himself, by laying open the long series 
 of bad administration to which he had been privy ; 
 the many illegal patents he had been compelled to 
 pass ; and all this came fidl home to Buckingham, the 
 great object of national vengeance. The faults, too, 
 imputed to himself, he might have extenuated so far 
 as to procure a great mitigation of the censure that 
 must otherwise fall upon him in its utmost rigour. 
 All this he foresaw and felt : but the king absolutely 
 commanded him not to be present at his trial ; pro- 
 mising, on his royal word, to screen him in the last 
 determination ; or if that could not be, to reward 
 him afterwards with ample retribution of protection 
 and favour. He obeyed, and was undone. 
 State Tri. ^" ^lic twclftli of March, a committee for inspect- 
 Voi. I. inir into the abuses of the courts of iustice was 
 appointed by tlic commons, home days after, Sn* 
 Robert Phillips, a gentleman eminent for public spirit 
 and humanity, reported from thence to the house, 
 that complaints had been brought before them, by 
 two persons, against the lord Chancellor, for bribery 
 and corruption. This report he made not only with- 
 out bitterness, but in terms of great regard and ten- 
 derness for the accused ; moving, that the business 
 might be presented to the peers, singly, and without 
 exaggeration. At a conference, on the nineteenth, 
 between certain members of both houses, the lords 
 agreed to take the matter into their speedy consider- 
 
 p. 3b3, etc.
 
 I.ORD CHANCELLOR BACON. xlix 
 
 ation. As soon as this affair was become the public 
 talk, a new crowd of accusers appeared, and charged 
 home the unhappy chancellor with otlier and flagrant 
 instances of bribery ; such persons especially as had 
 courted him with presents, and afterwards received 
 a judgment unfavourable to their expectations : ani- 
 mated more by that disappointment, than by the 
 iniquity of his decisions ; for it does not appear that Rush- 
 any of his decrees were ever reversed. He was all yoS'^'''' 
 this while confined to his house by an indisposition, 
 real or pretended : but if his body was in health, 
 wliat must have been the condition of his mind, in 
 this interval of suspense and anxiety ? a great mind, 
 already self- convicted, yet exquisitely sensible to good 
 fame, which it has long enjoyed, and is upon the 
 j>oint of losing for ever ! His reflections, whether he 
 looked back on the past, or forward to the prospect 
 before him, must have been terrible : as they were at 
 the same time inflamed by peculiar circumstances of 
 shame and confusion ; that he was now, at the age of 
 sixty-one, falling a victim to the rapine and insolence 
 of his domestics, which he had weakly connived at, 
 rather than to any faults of his own. 
 
 On the twenty-sixth of ]\farch, the king came to 
 the house of peers; and, in expressions of studied 
 popularity, ovrned the errors of his government, ex- 
 claimed against the patents complained of, frankly 
 gave up to justice the lesser criminals concerned in 
 them : and all this for the sake of his favourite, 
 whom in the end he endeavoured to screen by the 
 poorest reasons imaginable. Indeed, no good reasons 
 could be alledged in defence of him, who was the 
 greatest criminal ; and without whose concurrence 
 the wretches in question could not have been guilty, 
 '^riie lords were not imposed upon by this speech : 
 however, thinking it sufficient to have reduced their 
 sovereign to the necessity of an apology, they feigned 
 to be of his opinion. Thus Buckingham escaped for 
 the present ; to accumulate new guilt, and to fall 
 at last, ignobly, by a private hand : after he had been 
 devoted, by the curses of a wliole people, and more 
 
 VOL. 1. e
 
 THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 solemuly still by the deiiimciations of their repre- 
 sentatives. After a recess of three weeks, the house 
 met again : but the weight of then* indignation fell 
 singly, and therefore without mercy, on the chan- 
 cellor. They were not satisfied with his letter of 
 general confession, though delivered to them by the 
 prince of Wales ; in which he renounced all justifica- 
 tion of himself, and sued for no other favour, " but 
 " that his penitent submission might be his sentence, 
 " and the loss of the seals his punishment." He 
 was obliged to put in a particular answer to every 
 point of his accusation : which he did on the first of 
 May, 1621 ; acknowledging, in the most explicit 
 words, the corruption charged upon him in twenty- 
 eight several articles, and throwing his cause entu'ely 
 on the compassion of his judges. His sentence was, 
 " to undergo a fine of forty thousand pounds ; to be 
 " imprisoned in the Tower dming the king's plea- 
 " sure ; to be for ever uncapable of any office, place, 
 " or employment in the commonwealth ; and never 
 " to sit again in parliament, or come within the verge 
 " of the court." Thus he lost the great privilege of 
 his peerage; a severity unusual, except in cases of 
 treason and attainder. 
 
 The last article of his charge furnishes matter for 
 much reflection. It alledges, " that he had given 
 " way to great exactions in his servants, both in 
 " respect of private seals, and otherwise for sealing in- 
 " junctions." This indulgence to his domestics, which 
 was certainly extreme, has been generally, and I be- 
 lieve truly, reckoned the principal cause of those irre- 
 wiison. gularities that drew on his disgrace. Liberal in his 
 Bushel's own temper, or rather profuse beyond the condition 
 Port. p. 2. of a man who means to preserve his integrity, he al- 
 lowed his family in every kind of extravagance : and 
 as many of his retinue were young, dissipated, giddy 
 in the pursuit of pleasme, they squandered without 
 measme, where they were indulged without controul ^. 
 
 ' One (lay, during his trial, as he was passing through a room where sereral 
 of his domestics were sitting, upon their getting up to salute him, Sit down, my 
 maiten, he cried ; your rise hath been my fall.
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. li 
 
 Whether he did not discover this error till it was 
 too late, or whether a soul like his, lost in the great- 
 ness and immensity of its own views, could not 
 attend to that detail of little and disagreeable parti- 
 culars, which yet occonomy requires ; however that 
 Was, to support his ordinary train of living, he fell 
 into corruption himself, and connived at it in his 
 dependents. Thus we behold him, a memorable 
 example of all that is great and exalted, of all that 
 is little and low, in man. Such inconsistencies in 
 our human nature cannot but alarm and terrify even 
 those who are most confinned in a habit of virtue. 
 
 After a short confinement in the Tower, the king 
 restored him to his liberty, and forgave the fine in 
 which the parliament had amerced him. As this 
 fine was very considerable, he managed so as to have 
 it assigned over to some of his fiiends, under the 
 notion of beinff his creditors : and we find Williams, Cabaia, 
 his successor in the seals, complaining hea\'ily of^^ igc,!, 
 this stratagem ; as if he thereby intended to defraud 
 those persons to whom he was really in debt, who 
 were many and in danger of being ruined by his fall. 
 But I am inclined to hope, that he made use of this 
 artifice with a more innocent view : namely, to pro- 
 cure himself a short respite from their importunities, 
 till he could settle his private affairs, extremely per- 
 plexed by fonner ill management, and now by the 
 loss of his emjoloyments rendered desperate. That I 
 may not be obliged to mention any more an affair 
 alike ungrateful to the reader and wTiter, I will ob- 
 serve here, that about three years after this, he peti- 
 tioned king James for a total remission of his cen- 
 sure : " to the end that this blot of ignominy might Bacon. 
 " be removed from him, and from his memory with Letter ' 
 " posterity." What lay in a king's power, James ccxciv. 
 readily granted, a full and entire pardon of his w^hole p.^249.' 
 sentence "*. Posterity, likewise, to which he appealed, 
 has seemed unwilling to remember that he ever 
 
 * Accordingly he was samnioned to the first parliament of king Charles. 
 
 e 2
 
 ]ii THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 offended : and those who record his failings, like 
 those who have made observations on the spots in 
 the sun, neither pretend to diminish his real bright- 
 ness in himself, nor deny his universal influence on 
 the world of learning. Thus he withdrew from the 
 glare of a public station into the shade of retirement 
 Bushel's and studious leisure ; often lamenting that ambition 
 Postal 3 ^"^ ^^^^^ gloiy liad so long diverted him from the 
 noblest as well as the most useful employments of a 
 reasonable being : mortified, no doubt, into these sen- 
 timents by a severe conviction, in his own person, of 
 the instability and emptiness of all human grandeur. 
 Hitherto we have followed him through the bustle 
 and obliquity of business. We shall find him hence- 
 forth in a more pleasing, though a less conspicuous, 
 situation ; freed from the servitude of a court ; from 
 an intolerable attendance there, on the vices and fol- 
 lies of men every way his inferiors (for in this reign 
 no one could rise to power on more honourable 
 terms :) in a condition now to pursue the native bent 
 of his genius ; to live to himself, and for the advan- 
 tage, not of one age, or one people only, but of all 
 mankind, and all times to come. 
 An. 1622. The first considerable work he engaged in, after 
 his retirement, was the history of Henry the seventh ; 
 which he undertook at the desire of king James, and 
 published in the year 1 623. Whatever some writers 
 may have insinuated of his melancholy and dejection, 
 we find every where, in this performance, evident 
 traces of a spirit unbroken by age, and unsubdued by 
 misfortunes. It has been highly applauded, and as 
 much condemned : a proof that it has more than 
 common merit. And we may venture to affirm, that, 
 whatever its faults arc, they arise from no want of 
 vigour in the understanding, or of warmth in the 
 imagination of the writer. King James affi3cted to con- 
 sider his great grandfather Henry as a perfect model 
 for the imitation of other monarchs : and as his was 
 the reign of flattery, this quickly grew to be the pre- 
 valent and fashionable opinion at court. Though in
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. liii 
 
 truth, that prince's character was, in every part of it, 
 unamiable ; and his conduct, on many occasions, 
 weak or wicked. If my lord Bacon has not wholly 
 escaped the infection of his age ; if he has here and 
 there attempted to brighten the imperfections, and 
 throw in shades the bad features of the original he 
 was drawing ; yet, through these softenings we can 
 easily see this king as he was, and in all his genuine 
 deformity. Suspicion and avarice, his own historian 
 acknowledges, were the chief ingredients in his com- 
 position : and therefore his politics, both at home and 
 abroad, were narrow, selfish, and false. Void of all 
 great and extensive prudence, he endeavoured to 
 supply that want by temporary shifts, and the little 
 expedients of cunning. By these he commonly had 
 the luck to extricate himself out of difficulties, which 
 a wiser man would have timely foreseen, and a better 
 man have wholly prevented. But as his genius was 
 unsociable and solitary, the darkness in his temper 
 passed on mankind for depth and sagacity in his 
 understanding- His avarice too, was sordid and 
 shameless. Nothing seemed mean, nothing unjust in 
 his eyes, that could fill his coffers : and merely to 
 fill them, for of wealth he had no enjoyment, he 
 descended to arts of rapine no less scandalous than 
 they were oppressive. 
 
 I have acknowledged that my lord Bacon's History 
 has been taxed of partiality, and I will not dissemble 
 that his style has been objected to, as fiill of affecta- 
 tion, full of false eloquence. But that was the vice, 
 not of the man, but of the times he lived in : and 
 particularly of a court, that, after the sovereign's 
 example, delighted in the tinsel of wit and writing, 
 in the poor ingenuity of punning and quibbling. 
 
 His Essays have, of all his works, been most cur- 
 rent, and are still very justly esteemed. Towards the 
 close of his life he greatly enlarged them both in 
 number and weight ; and published them anew, not 
 only in English, but in a more universal language, 
 which, he imagined, may preserve them as long as 
 books shall last. As they are intended not to anuisc
 
 Xliv THE IJFE OF THE 
 
 foreigners alike : so that in his attempts upon the 
 former, in his negotiations with the latter, this Solo- 
 mon was the only du})e. A great share of learning 
 he certainly had, bnt of learning that a king onght 
 not to be acquainted with ; the very refnse of the 
 schools, which served for little else bnt to furnish 
 him with an impertinent fluency, on every subject : 
 and he indulged himself in the sovereign pedantry 
 of setting it. to show, on every occasion. On all these 
 heads, he was extolled without measure by the most 
 pestilent of flatterers, grave and reverend ecclesiastics : 
 for which, and because they encoin-aged him in an 
 nnprincely application of his talent, he, on many 
 occasions, made his power the mean instrument to 
 gratify their passions and lust of dominion. They, 
 in return, found out for him a title antecedent and 
 superior to human laws, even a divine right of being 
 weak or wicked, without controul. And this doctrine, 
 horrible as it is, they dared to derive from Scripture : 
 where if it could be found, which to affirm were 
 blasphemy, it would be the triumph of infidelity, and 
 demonstration that those sacred writings were inspired, 
 not by God, bnt by some being, his opposite and 
 the enemy of all goodness. This doctrine, meeting 
 with liis own perverted habits of thinking, made 
 king James look npon his subjects as slaves ; upon 
 his parliaments as usurpers of a po^ver to which they 
 had no right, or at best a precarious one : and he had 
 now, for seven years together, affected to govern with- 
 out them ; to set up an interest separate from that 
 of his peo2)le, and to sup})ly liis wants by all ways 
 and means, but such as the constitution prescribed. 
 Hacket, Thcse mctliods were suggested to liim by tlie worst 
 p. 50. enemies of the commonwealtli, tlie tribe of projectors 
 and monopolists : miscreants who slieltered them- 
 selves under the name and influence of Buckingham, 
 and who re])aid liis j)rotection extravagantly, at the 
 expencc of a people whom they were grinding and 
 devouring. His mother too, now created a countess 
 in lier own right, a woman born for mischief, of a 
 meddling spirit and insatiably greedy, was deep in
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. xlv 
 
 the guilt of these transactions ; forwarding every bad 
 })roject tliat broiiglit lier in money ; and, by the 
 mighty power she had over licr son, succeeding in 
 every scandalous job she luidertook. Under an ad- 
 ministration like this, when lOngland was in effect 
 governed by a dissolute youth, himself in the hands 
 of an intriguing, rapacious woman, it cannot be sur- 
 prising that the people were vexed and plundered by 
 illegal patents, by mouo])olies, by other mischievous 
 projects, calculated to enrich a few, and to ruin 
 thousands. To all these patents, however procured, 
 the chancellor had readily, almost implicitly, affixed 
 the seal, as the mere creature of Buckingham : or if 
 he ever ventured to insinuate that any of them were 
 contrary to law, his remonstrance was too fearful 
 and unsupported to produce any effect. This is the 
 great stain on his character, that he deserted, or neg- 
 lected, the post of honour where Providence had placed 
 him, on the frontier, if I may so speak, betwixt 
 Prerogative and ] liberty ; that, if he did not encou- 
 rage, he at least connived at, the invasions that were 
 every day making into the latter. Yet this was against 
 his inclination, as well as against his better sense of 
 things ; for as he knew well that his master's true 
 interest lay in a good understanding with his people, 
 he had often advised him to call frequent parliaments, 
 and to throw himself on the affections of the nation 
 for the support of his government. Though such 
 advice was repugnant to all the maxims by which 
 that monarch wished to establish his power ; though 
 he had resolved to lay parliaments aside for ever, as 
 daring cncroachers ujwu his prerogative, who made 
 themselves greater and their prince less than became 
 either : yet he was now prevailed upon to meet the 
 two houses once more. Indeed the exigency of his 
 affairs rendered it necessary. His subjects, it is true, 
 were harassed and pillaged ; but he was still in ex- 
 treme want of money : those wretches, to whom he 
 delegated his authority, leaving to him little else 
 besides the ])ublic hatred, occasioned by their rapines 
 committed in his name. Add to this, that the June-
 
 hi THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 memory will wish he had never uttered. Those wha 
 insist on the meanness, those who plead for the dig- 
 nity, of human nature, may. in this one man, find 
 abundant matter to support their several opinions. 
 But let us draw a veil over imperfections, and at the 
 same time acknowledge, that a very ordinary pene- 
 tration may serve to discover remarkable blemishes 
 and failings in the most comprehensive minds, 
 in the greatest characters, that ever adorned morta- 
 lity. 
 
 An. J 625. King James died in 1625 ; after an inglorious and 
 a fatal reign of three and twenty years : despised by 
 foreigners, despised and hated by his own subjects. 
 The mischievous notions he broached, the perverse 
 conduct he held, gave rise to those divisions that 
 quickly after involved his kingdoms in all the guilt 
 and misery of a civil war : that shook the British 
 constitution to its foundations, and in the end over- 
 turned it ; though apparently framed to last for ages, 
 as it had been ages in building up and perfecting. 
 
 His unfortunate chancellor survived him something 
 above a year. The multiplicity of business and study 
 in which he had been long engaged, but above all 
 the anguish of mind he secretly laboured under, had 
 undermined and broken into his health. After hav- 
 ing been for some time infirm and declining, he 
 owed his death at last to an excess, not unbecoming 
 a philosopher; in pursuing, with more application 
 than his strength could bear, certain experiments 
 touching the conservation of bodies. He was so 
 suddenly struck in his head and stomach, that he 
 found himself obliged to retire into the earl of Arun- 
 del's house at Highgate, near which he then hap- 
 pened to be. There he sickened of a fever, attended 
 with a defluxion on his breast ; and, after a week's 
 
 An. J 6<!6. illness, expired; on the nintli of April, in the sixty- 
 sixtli year of his age. How he bore this indisposi- 
 tion, or wliat discourses he lield at the nearer ap- 
 [)r()aclies of deatli, no account is to be found ; an 
 omission which every reader must feel and regret:
 
 I.OUD CHANCELLOR BACON- Ivii 
 
 as nothing can awaken the attention, nothing affect 
 the heart of man more strongly than the behaviour of 
 eminent personages in their last moments ; in that 
 only scene of life wherein we are all sure, later or 
 sooner, to resemble them. There remains only aBac.n, 
 letter, the last he ever wrote, addressed to that noble- Y°}: ^^' 
 man under whose roof he died ; in which he com- 
 pares himself to a celebrated philosopher of anti- 
 quity, Pliny the elder ; who lost* his life by inquiring, 
 with too dangerous a curiosity, into the first great 
 eruption of Vesuvius. 
 
 Thus lived and died the lord chancellor Bacon.^ 
 He was buried privately in St. Michael's church 
 near St. Alban's. The spot that contains his re- 
 mains lay obscure and undistinguished, till the gra- 
 titude of a private man, formerly his servant, erected Sir Tiiuin«» 
 a monument to his name and memory. In another ^^^^^^y^- 
 country, in a better age, his monument would have 
 stood a public proof in what veneration the whole 
 society held a citizen, whose genius did them honour, 
 and whose writings will instruct their latest poste- 
 rity. 
 y^ One passage in his will is remarkable. After 
 bequeathing his soid and body in the usual form, he 
 adds, " my name and memory I leave to foreign Baconiana, 
 " nations ; and to mine own' countrymen, after some p- ^''^* 
 
 * He continued single till after forty, and then t«ok to wife a daughter of 
 alderman Bamliam, of London, with whom he received a plentiful fortune, but 
 liad hy her no children : and she outlived liim upwards of twenty years. Such 
 readers as have any curiosity to know wliat regimen he observed, may take the 
 followhig account of it in the words of his chaplain : " His diet was rather 
 '' plentiful and liberal tlian restrained. In his younger years he was much given 
 " to the finer and lighter sorts of meats : but afterwards he preferred the 
 " stronger, sucii as the shambles afforded ; as those which bred the more firm 
 " and substantial juices, and less dissipablc. He did not, you may be sure, 
 " neglect that himself, which he so much extolled to others in his writings, 
 " the frequent use of nitre ; whereof he took the quantity of about three grains 
 " in thin warm broth every inorniug for thirty years together. His ordinary 
 " physic was a maceration of rhubarb, infused in a draught of white wine and 
 " beer mingled together for (he space of half an hour, once in six or seven days, 
 " iunncdiatuly before his meal, wiietlicr dinner or supper ; that it might dry the 
 " body less. His receipt for the gout, whicii constantly gave him ease within 
 •• two hours, is set down iu the cud of the Natural History." See Vol. 11.
 
 Iviii THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 " time be passed over." As to the former, he was, 
 even in his life-time, looked upon with admiration by 
 the most eminent men that France and Italy could 
 then boast of; and by some of them visited, as one 
 Voltaire's whose talcuts wcrc an ornament, not only to his age, 
 ^/[g" but to human nature itself. When the marquis 
 Angiois, D'Effiat brought into England the princess Henrietta- 
 ^' ^^' Maria, wife to Charles the first, he paid a visit to my 
 lord Bacon ; who being then sick in bed, received 
 him with the curtains drawn. " You resemble the 
 " angels," said that minister to him : " we hear those 
 " beings continually talked of, we believe them su- 
 " perior to mankind, and we never have the conso- 
 " lation to see them." Among his countrymen, the 
 names, alone, of those who have adopted his notions, 
 and proceeded on his plan, are his highest encomium. 
 To pass over a long line of philosophers, all illustri- 
 ous ; he reckons in the list of his followers a Boyle, a 
 Locke, a Newton himself. 
 Rawiey's Quc siugiUarity there was in his temperament, not 
 bLcoI easily to be accounted for : in every eclipse of the 
 moon, whether he observed it or not, he was cer- 
 tainly seized with a sudden fit of fainting; which 
 left him, without any remaining weakness, as soon as 
 Evelyn of tlic cclipse cudcd. He was of a middling stature ; 
 J.*34o.'' hi's forehead spacious and open, early impressed with 
 the marks of age ; his eye lively and penetrating ; 
 his whole appearance venerably pleasing : so that the 
 beholder was insensibly drawn to love, before he 
 knew how much reason there was to admire him. In 
 this respect, we may apply to my lord Bacon what 
 Tacitus finely observes of his father-in-law, Agricola : 
 a good man you would readily have judged him to be, 
 and been pleased to find him a great man. 
 
 Those talents that commonly appear single in 
 
 others, and they too men of reputation, shone forth 
 
 in him united and eminent. All his contemporaries, 
 
 even those who hated the courtier, stand up and bear 
 
 Osbon.s ^vitncss together to the superior abilities of the writer 
 
 Son*."^*^ and pleader, of the philosopher and companion. In
 
 LORD CHANCEM.OIJ BACON. lix 
 
 conversation he could assume the most differino^ cha- 
 racters, and speak the language proper to eacli, with 
 a facility that was perfectly natural ; or the dexterity 
 of the habit concealed every appearance of art: a 
 happy versatility of genius, which all men wish to 
 arrive at, and one or two, once in an age, are seen 
 to possess. In public he commanded the attention 
 of his hearers, and had their affections wholly in his 
 power. As he accompanied what he spoke with all 
 the expression and grace of action, his pleadings, 
 that are now perhaps read mthout emotion, never 
 failed to awaken in his audience the several passions 
 he intended they should feel. This is not a picture 
 of him drawn from fancy ; it is copied, and that too b. Jonson, 
 but in miniature, after another taken by one who '" '"^^'*- 
 knew him well ; a good judge of merit, and seldom 
 known to err, at least in heightening a favourable 
 likeness. As a philosopher, it is scarce hyperbolical 
 to say of him, in Mr. Addison's words, that he had 
 the sound, distinct, comprehensive knowledge of 
 Aristotle, with all the beautiful lights, graces, and em- 
 bellishments of Cicero. To this commendation of his 
 talents, the learned throughout Europe have given their 
 common sanction, and own him for the father of the 
 only valuable philosophy, that of fact and observation. 
 It remains then to consider him, more particularly 
 than we have hitherto done, in this most known and 
 conspicuous part of his character ; where his merit is 
 unquestionably great and entirely his own. For, to 
 the writings of the ancients he was not, he could not, 
 be obliged. They had either mistaken the right road 
 to natural knowledge ; or if any of them struck into 
 it by chance, finding the way difficult, obscure, and 
 tedious, they soon abandoned it for ever. He owed 
 to himself alone, to a certain intellectual sagacity, 
 that beam of true discernment which shewed him at 
 once, and as it were by intuition, what the most 
 painful inquirers, for more than twenty ages back- 
 ward, had searched after in vain. And here let me 
 observe towards him the same impartiality I have 
 hitherto aimed at : and, in order to know what he
 
 Ix 
 
 THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 really did as a philosopher, place before the reader a 
 short view of the state of learning in Europe, from 
 the dark period of Gothicism down to the sixteenth 
 century. But let me at the same time acknowledge, 
 that this account will be only a rude and imperfect 
 sketch ; consisting of a few detached particulars, 
 without much order or method. 
 
 Although the great era of ignorance has been fixed, 
 justly enough, to those times when the northern na- 
 tions, like a mighty inundation, overspread the face 
 of Europe ; yet it is no less certain that barbarism 
 and corruption were entered into arts and sciences 
 ere the savages had made any impression on the Ro- 
 man empire. Under them indeed, that darkness 
 which had been long growing on the world, and 
 gradually extinguishing every light of knowledge, 
 soon became total, and threatened to be perpetual. 
 In the eighth century, we find that the highest am- 
 bition of the clergy was to vie with one another in 
 chanting the public service, which yet they hardly 
 understood. This important emulation run so high 
 between the Latin and French priesthood, that Char- 
 An.787. lemagne, who was then at Rome, found it necessary 
 to interpose, and decide the controversy in person, 
 ir^'oii '^^^^ monk, who relates this affair with a most cir- 
 Op.t.iv. cumstantial exactness, adds, that the emperor in- 
 P- ^' treated pope Adrian to procure him certain persons, 
 who might teach his subjects the first principles of 
 grammar and arithmetic ; arts that were then utterly 
 unknown in his dominions. This warlike monarch, 
 though his own education had been so far neglected 
 that he had never learned to write, discovered, by 
 his natural good sense, the value of knowledge, and 
 set himself to be its promoter and patron. He even 
 allowed a public school to be opened in the imperial 
 palace, under the direction of our famous country- 
 man Alcuin ; on whom he chiefly relied for intro- 
 ducing into France some tincture of that philosophy 
 which was still remaining in Britain. But how slow 
 and ineffectual the progress of any learning must 
 have been, vvc may guess from an edict of the coun-
 
 LORD CHANCELI.OH BACON. 1x1 
 
 cil of Challons, in tlie next century ; wliich earnestly An. eis. 
 exhorts all monasteries to be careful in having their 
 manuals of devotion correctly transcribed : lest, while Launoii, 
 they piously mean to ask of God one thing, some ^' ^" 
 inaccurate manuscript may betray them into praying 
 for the quite contrary. 
 
 As to Britain, if learning had still some footing Hist, et 
 there in the eighth century, it was so totally exter- ^'',I|^;r. 
 minated from thence in the ninth ; that, throughout ^-^xon. 
 the whole kingdom of the West-Saxons, no man ^'" 
 could be found who was scholar enough to instruct 
 our king Alfred, then a child, even in the first ele- 
 ments of reading : so that he was in his twelfth year 
 before he could name the letters of the alphabet. 
 When that renowned prince ascended the throne, he 
 made it his study to draw his people out of the sloth 
 and stupidity in which they lay : and became, as 
 much by his own example, as by the encouragement 
 lie][gave to learned men, the great restorer of arts in 
 his dominions. And here we are called upon to 
 observe, that as France had been formerly obliged 
 to England in the person of Alcuin, who planted 
 the sciences there under Charlemagne ; oiu* island 
 now received the same friendly assistance from thence 
 by Grimbald, whom king Alfred had invited hither, An. 879. 
 and made chancellor of Oxford. Such events as 
 these are too considerable in the literary history of 
 the ninth age, to be passed over unobserved. The 
 rise of a noted grammarian, the voyage of an ap- 
 plauded doctor, are recorded, by the chroniclers of 
 that century, with the same reverence that an ancient 
 writer would mention the appearance of a Lycurgus, 
 or a Timoleon ; of a lawgiver who new-models a 
 state, or a hero who rescues a whole people from 
 slavery. 
 
 But these fair appearances were of short duration. 
 A night of thicker darkness quickly overspread the 
 intellectual world : and in the moral, followed a 
 revolution still more deplorable. To common sense 
 and piety, succeeded dreams and fables, visionary 
 legends and ridiculous penances. The clergy, now
 
 Ixii THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 utter strangers to all good learning, instead of guiding 
 a rude and vicious laity by the precepts of the gospel, 
 which they no longer read, amused them with forged 
 miracles, or overawed them by the ghostly terrors of 
 demons, spectres, and chimeras. This was more easy, 
 and more profitable too, than the painful example of 
 a virtuous life. The profound depravity that was 
 spread through all conditions of men, ecclesiastic and 
 secular, appears in nothing more plain than in the 
 reasons assigned for calling several councils about 
 this time. In one, new canons were to be made, 
 forbidding adultery, incest, and the practice of pagan 
 superstitions : as if these things had not till then been 
 Giannone, accountod criminal. In another, it was found neces- 
 mpou! sary to declare, that a number of angels worshipped 
 '•5. universally under certain names were altogether 
 
 unknown : and that the Church could not warrant 
 the particular invocation of more than three. A 
 third, which the empress Irene had summoned for 
 the reformation of discipline, ordained, that no pre- 
 late should thenceforth convert his episcopal palace 
 into a common inn ; nor, in consideration only of any 
 sum of money given him by one man, curse and ex- 
 communicate another. A fourth and fifth censure 
 the indecency of avowed concubinage : and enjoin 
 that friers and nuns should no longer converse or live 
 promiscuously in the same convent. 
 
 The see of Rome, which should have been a pattern 
 to the rest, was of all Christian Churches the most 
 licentious ^ ; and the pontifical chair often filled with 
 
 " The book entitled, The Tax of the Roman Chaiieery, published first at Rome, 
 ill the year 1514, furnishes us witli a flagrant instance of this iu the following 
 passage, which I choose not to translate. " Absolutio a lapsu carnis super quocun- 
 " que actu libidinoso comniisso perC/mrKw, etiani cum monialibus, intra et extra 
 " septa monasterii ; aut cum coitsanguineis vel affinibus, aut filia spirituali, aut 
 " quibusdam aliis, sive ab unoquoque de per se, sive siinul ab omnibus absolutio 
 " petatur, cum dispensatione ad ordines et beneficia, cum inhibitione, tur. 36, due. 3. 
 " Si vcro cum iliis petatur absolutio etiani a criminc comniisso contra naturam, 
 " vel cum brulis, cum dispensatione, ut supra, et cum inhibitione, tur. 90, due. 
 " 12, carl. 16. Si vero petatur tantum absolutio acriminef();ttro»iat«raw, velcum 
 " brutis, cum dispensatione ot inhibitione, turon. 36, due. 9. Absolutio pro 
 " Mo^iiali, quae se pcrniisit pluries cognosci intra et extra septa monasterii, cum
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. Ixili 
 
 men, who, instead of adorning their sacred character, 
 niade human nature itself detestable : a truth by 
 many catholic writers acknowledged and lamented. 
 Several popes were by their successors excommuni- 
 cated, their acts abrogated, and the sacraments ad- 
 ministered by them pronounced invalid. No less idem, i, r. 
 than six were expelled by others who usurped their 
 seat ; two were assassinated : and the infamous The- 
 odora, infamous even in that age, by her credit in 
 the holy city, obtained the triple crown for the most 
 avowed of her gallants, who assumed the name of 
 John the tenth. Another of the same name was John XL 
 called to govern the Christian world at the age of 
 twenty-one ; a bastard son of Pope Sergius who died 
 eighteen years before. If such were the men who 
 arrogated to themselves titles and attributes peculiar 
 to the Deity, can we wonder at the greatest enor- 
 mities among lay-men ? Their stupidity kept pace 
 with the dissolution of their manners, which was ex- 
 treme : they still preserved, for the very clergy we 
 have been speaking of, a reverence they no longer 
 had for their God. The most abandoned among 
 them, miscreants, familiar with crimes that humanity 
 startles at, would yet, at the hazard of their lives, 
 defend the immunities of a church, a consecrated 
 utensil, or a donation made to a convent. In such 
 times as those, it were in vain to look for useful 
 learning and philosophy. Not only the light of sci- 
 ence, but of reason, seems to have been well-nigh 
 extinguished. 
 
 It was not till late, after the sack of Constantinople An. 1473. 
 by the Turks, that the writings of Aristotle began to 
 be universally known and studied. They were then, 
 by certain fugitive Greeks, who had escaped the 
 fury of the Ottoman arms, brought away and dis- 
 persed through the Western parts of Europe. Some 
 particular treatises of his, it is true, had been long 
 
 ♦• rehabilitate ad dignitates illius ordinis, etiam abbatialem, turon. 36, due. 9." 
 In the edition of Bois-le-duc, there is " Absolutio pro eo, qui interfecit patreni, 
 " inatrem, sororem, uxorem .... g. 5, vei 7." Vide Baylc, art. Banck.
 
 Ixiv THE I.IFE OF THE 
 
 made public; but chiefly in translations from the 
 Arabic, clone by men who, far from rendering faith- 
 fully the author's sense, hardly understood his lan- 
 guage. These however gave birth to the scholastic 
 philosophy ; that motley offspring of error and inge- 
 nuity : and to speak freely, the features of both pa- 
 rents were all along equally blended in the com- 
 j)lexion of the daughter. To trace at length the rise, 
 progress, and variations of this philosophy, would be 
 an undertaking not only curious but instructive, as 
 it would unfold to us all the mazes in which the 
 force, the subtlety, the extravagance of human wit 
 can lose themselves : till not only profane learning 
 but divinity itself was at last, by the refined frenzy 
 of those who taught both, subtilized into mere notion 
 and air. 
 
 Their philosophy \vas neither that of Aristotle en- 
 tirely, nor altogether differing from his. Whatever 
 opinions the first founders of it had been able to 
 draw, from Boetius his Latin commentator, or from 
 the wretched translations above-mentioned, these 
 they methodized and illustrated, each according to 
 his several talent, and the genius of the age he lived 
 in. But this, instead of producing one regular and 
 consistent body of science, even from wrong prin- 
 ciples, ended in a monster, made up of parts every 
 where mishapen and dissimilar. Add to this, that 
 they left natural knowledge wholly uncultivated ; to 
 hunt after occult qualities, abstract notions, and 
 questions of impertinent curiosity, by which they ren- 
 dered the very logic their labours chiefly turned upon 
 intricate, useless, unintelligible. 
 
 Alstedius, in his chronology of the schoolmen, has 
 divided their history into three principal periods or 
 
 An. 1050. successions : the first beginning with Lanfranc, arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury, who flourished about the middle 
 of the eleventh century ; and ending with Albert the 
 
 An. 1320. Great two ages later : the second, that commences 
 from him, determining in l^urand ; as the third and 
 
 Poi^histor. last ended in Luther, at the reformation. IMorhoflP, 
 
 p.7.n, <(c. however, strenuously contends, that Kucelinus, an
 
 LOKI) CHANCELLOR BACON. IxV 
 
 Englishman, was properly the father of the schoolmen: 
 and that to him the sect of the Nominalists owed its 
 rise and credit. He adds that it revived afterwards 
 in the person of Occam, another of our countrymen, 
 and the perpetual antagonist of Duns Scotus, who 
 had declared for the Realists, and was reckoned their 
 ablest champion. The learned reader needs not be 
 told, that the scholastic doctors were all distin- 
 guished into these two sects ; formidable party-names, 
 which are now as little known or mentioned as the 
 controversies that once occasioned them. It is suffi- 
 cient to say, that, like all other parties, they hated 
 each other heartily ; treated each other as heretics in 
 logic ; and that their disputes were often sharp and 
 bloody ; ending not only in the metaphorical destruc- 
 tion of common sense and language, but in the 
 real mutilation and death of the combatants. For, 
 to the disgrace of human reason, mankind in all 
 their controversies, whether about a notion or a 
 thing, a predicament or a province, have made their 
 last appeal to brute force and violence. The titles " 
 with which these leaders were honoured by their fol- ' 
 lowers, on account of the sublime reveries they 
 taught, are at once magnificent and absurd : and 
 prove rather the superlative ignorance of those times, 
 than any transcendent merit in the men to whom the}^ 
 were applied. From this censure we ought never- 
 theless to except one, who was a prodigy of know- 
 ledge for the age he lived in, and is acknowledged as 
 such by the age to which I am writing, I mean the 
 renowned frier Bacon, who shone forth singly 
 through the profound darkness of those times ; but 
 rather dazzled than enlightened the weaker eyes of 
 his contemporaries. As if the name of Bacon were 
 auspicious to philosophy, this man, not only without 
 assistance or encouragement, but insulted and per- 
 secuted, by the unconquerable force of his genius 
 penetrated far into the mysteries of nature, and made 
 
 • The proftniiiii. lliesiiliMli', (lie ninrvollons, tin- imlrfiitigable, »lio inefr.ig iIjIo, 
 tlie angelic, tin- M'r.tjjliic, ilie t'oiintaiii of liri', lip.hl uf the world, etc. 
 VOL. L f
 
 Ixvi THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 SO many new discoveries in astronomy and perspec- 
 tive, in mechanics and chemistry, that the most sober 
 writers even now cannot mention them without some 
 marks of emotion and wonder. It is Dr. Freind's 
 observation, that he was ahnost the only astronomer 
 of his age : and the reformation of the calendar, by 
 him attempted and in a manner perfected, is a noble 
 proof of his skill in that science. The construction 
 of spectacles, of telescopes, of all sorts of glasses that 
 magnify or diminish objects, the composition of gun- 
 powder (which Bartholdus Swartz is thought to have 
 first hit upon almost a century later) are some of the 
 many inventions with justice ascribed to him. For 
 all which, he was in his life-time calumniated, im- 
 prisoned, oppressed : and after his death wounded in 
 his good name, as a magician who had dealt in 
 arts, infernal and abominable. He tells us, that 
 there were but four persons then in Eiu^ope who had 
 made any progress in the mathematics ; and in che- 
 mistry yet fewer : that those who undertook to trans- 
 late Aristotle were every way unequal to the task ; 
 and that his writings, which, rightly understood. 
 Bacon considered as the fountain of all knowledge, 
 had been lately condemned and burned, in a synod 
 held at Paris. 
 
 The works of that celebrated ancient have, in truth, 
 more exercised the hatred and admiration of man- 
 kind, than those of all the other philosophers toge- 
 
 Lib. de ther. Launoy enumerates no less than thirty-seven ; 
 
 fortuna, fatlicrs of tlic Churcli who have stigmatized his name, 1 
 
 Tom. IV. and endeavoured to reprobate his doctrines. Mor- ! 
 
 Poi;> histor. hofF has reckoned up a still greater number of his 
 commentators, who were at the same time implicitly 
 his disciples : and yet both these authors are far from 
 having given a complete list cither of his friends or 
 enemies. In his life-time he was suspected of irre- 
 ligion, and, by the pagan priesthood, marked out 
 for destruction : the successors of those very men 
 were his partizans and admirers. His works met 
 with much the same treatment from the Christian
 
 LORD CHANCEM.On RACOX. Ixvil 
 
 clergy : sometimes proscribed for heretical ; some- 
 times triumphant and acknowledged the great bul- 
 wark of orthodoxy. Launoy has written a particular 
 treatise on the subject, and mentioned eight different 
 revolutions in the fortune and reputation of Aristotle's 
 philosophy. To pass over the intermediate changes, I 
 will just mention two, that make a full and ridiculous 
 contrast. In the above-mentioned council held at 
 Paris about the year 1209, the bishops there censured Laimr.ii, 
 his writings, without discrimination, as the pestilent "'^' '"'*'^"* 
 sources of error and heresy ; condemned them to the 
 flames, and commanded all persons, on pain of ex- 
 communication, not to read, transcribe, or keep any 
 copies of them. They went farther, and delivered 
 over to the secular arm no less than ten persons, who 
 were burned alive, for certain tenets, drawn, as those 
 learned prelates had heard, from the pernicious books 
 in question. In the sixteenth century, those very 
 books were not only read with impunity, but every 
 where taught with applause : and whoever disputed 
 their orthodoxy, I had almost said their infallibility, 
 was persecuted as an infidel and miscreant. Of this 
 the sophister Ramus is a memorable instance. Cer- 
 tain animadversions of his on the peripatetic philo- 
 sophy occasioned a general commotion in the learned 
 world. The university of Paris took the alarm hotly, 
 and cried out against this attempt as destructive of all 
 good learning, and of fatal tendency to religion 
 itself. The affair was brought before the parliament; Launoii, 
 and appeared of so much consequence to Francis the *°"' ^y 
 first, that he would needs take it under his own im- ^" 
 mediate cognizance. The edict is still extant, which 
 declares Ramus insolent, impudent, and a lyar. His lotix.f 
 books are thereby for ever condemned, suppressed, J 
 abolished : and, what is a strain of unexampled seve- 
 rity, the miserable author is solemnly interdicted 
 from transcribing, even from reading his own com- 
 positions ! 
 
 We might from hence be led to imagine, that 
 when the authority of an ancient philosopher was held 
 so sacred, philosophy itself must have been thoroughly 
 
 f 2 
 
 ]\Iav, All, 
 54^.
 
 Ixviii THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 understood, and cultivated with uncommon success ; 
 but the attachment of those doctors was to a name, 
 not to truth, or valuable science : and our author very 
 Bacon's justly comparcs them to the Olympic wrestlers, who 
 Apopiitheg. abstained from necessary labours, that they might be 
 fit for such as were not so. Under their manage- 
 ment it was a philosophy of words and notions, that 
 seemed to exclude the study of nature ; that, instead 
 of inquiring into the properties of bodies, into the 
 laws of motion by which all effects are produced, 
 was conversant only in logical definitions, distinc- 
 tions, and abstractions, utterly barren and unpro- 
 ductive of any advantage to mankind. The great 
 aim of those solemn triflers was rather to perplex a 
 dispute, than to clear up any point of useful dis- 
 quisition ; to triumph over an enemy, than to enlarge 
 the knowledge, or better the morals of their fol- 
 lowers. So that this captious philosophy was a real 
 obstacle to all advances in sound learning, human 
 and divine. After it had been adopted into the 
 Christian theology, far from being of use to explain 
 and ascertain mysteries, it served to darken and ren- 
 der doubtful the most necessary truths ; by the chi- 
 canery of argumentation with which it supplied each 
 sect, in defence of their peculiar and favorite illu- 
 sions. To so extravagant a height did they carry 
 their idolatry of Aristotle, that some of them disco- 
 vered, or imagined they discovered in his writings, 
 the doctrine of the Trinity; that others published 
 formal dissertations to prove the certainty of his sal- 
 vation, though a heathen : and that a patriarch of 
 Venice is said to have called up the devil expressly, 
 in order to learn from him the meaning of a hard 
 Bayie.art. word iu Aristotlc's Physics. But the crafty demon, 
 Baruauo. who perhaps did not understand it himself, answered 
 in a voice so low and inarticulate, that the good 
 prelate knew not a word he said. This was the 
 famous Hermolaus Barbaro : and the Greek word, 
 that occasioned his taking so extraordinary a step, is 
 the Entelechia of the Peripatetics ; from whence the 
 schoolmen raised their substantial forms, and which
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. Ixix 
 
 Ijeibnitz, towards the end of the last century, at- 
 tempted to revive in his theory of motion. 
 
 The reformation itself, that diffused a new light 
 over Europe, that set men upon inquiring into errors 
 and prepossessions of every kind, served only to 
 confirm the dominion of this philosophy : protestants 
 as well as papists entrenching themselves behind the 
 authority of Aristotle, and defending their several 
 tenets by the weapons with which he furnished 
 them. This unnatural alliance of theology with the 
 peripatetic doctrines rendered his opinions not only 
 venerable but sacred : they were reckoned as the 
 land-marks of both faith and reason, which to pull 
 up or remove would be daring and impious. Inno- 
 vations in philosophy, it was imagined, would gra- 
 dually sap the very foundations of religion, and in 
 the end lead to downright atheism. If that veil of 
 awful obscurity, which then covered the face of na 
 tare, should be once drawn ; the rash curiosity of 
 mankind would lead them to account for all appear- 
 ances in the visible world, by second causes, by the 
 powers of matter and mechanism : and thus they 
 might come insensibly to forget or neglect the great 
 original cause of all. This kind of reasoning con- 
 vinced the multitude, overawed the wiser few, 
 and effectually put a stop to the progress of useful 
 knowledge. 
 
 Such, in general, were the dispositions of mankind 
 when Sir Francis Bacon came into the world ; 
 whom we will not consider as the founder of a new 
 sect, but as the great assertor of human liberty ; as 
 one who rescued reason and truth from the slavery in 
 which all sects alike had, till then, held them. As a 
 plausible hypothesis, a shining theory, are more 
 amusing to the imagination, and a shorter way to 
 fame, than the patient and humble method of expe- 
 rimenting, of pursuing nature through all her laby- 
 rinths by fact and observation ; a philosophy built on 
 this principle, could not, at first, make any sudden 
 or general revolution in the learned world. But its 
 progress, like that of time, quiet, slow, and sure.
 
 IXX THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 has in the end been mighty and universal. He was 
 not howerer the first among the moderns who veu- 
 tm-ed to dissent from Aristotle. Ramus, Patricius, 
 Bruno, Severinus, to name no more, had already 
 attacked the authority of that tyrant in learning, who 
 had long reigned as absolutely over the opinions of 
 men, as his restless pupil had of old affected to do 
 over their persons. But these writers invented little 
 that was valuable themselves, however justly they 
 might reprehend many things in him. And as to 
 the real improvements made in some parts of natural 
 knowledge before our author appeared, by Gilbert, 
 Harvey, Copernicus, father Paul, and some few 
 others, they are well known, and have been de- 
 servedly celebrated. Yet there was still wanting one 
 great and comprehensive plan, that might embrace 
 the almost infinite varieties of science, and guide 
 our inquiries aright in all. This Sir Francis Bacon 
 first conceived, in its utmost extent ; to his own last- 
 ing honour, and to the general utility of mankind. 
 If we stand surprised at the happy imagination of 
 such a system, our surprise redoubles upon us when 
 we reflect, that he invented and methodized this 
 system, perfected so much, and sketched out so 
 much more of it, amidst the drudgery of business and 
 the civil tumults of a court. Nature seems to have 
 intended him iicculiarly for this province, by be- 
 stowing on him with a liberal hand all the qualities 
 requisite: a fancy voluble and prompt to discover 
 the similitudes of things ; a judgment steady and in- 
 tent to note their subtlest differences ; a love of me- 
 ditation and inquiry ; a patience in doubting ; a 
 slowness and diffidence in affirming ; a facility of 
 retracting ; a careful anxiety to plan and dispose. 
 A mind of such a cast, that neither affected novelty, 
 nor idolized antiquity, that 'vas an enemy to all im- 
 posture, must have had a certain congeniality and 
 relation to trutli. These characters, whicli, with a 
 noble confidence, he has applied to himself, are obvi- 
 ous and eminent in his Instauration of tlie Sciences: 
 a work by him designed, not as a monument to his
 
 I.OllJ) CHANCELLOR BACON. Ixxi 
 
 own fame, but a perpetual legacy to the coinmoii 
 benefit of others. He has divided the whole of it 
 into six capital })arts ; with a sliort account of wliich 
 we shall close this imperfect relation of his life and 
 writings. 
 
 1. The first part of this Instauration proposes a Ue aug. 
 general survey of human knowledge : and this he s"fen,Tarum. 
 executed in that admirable treatise entitled, The 
 Advancement of Learning. As he intended to raise 
 a new and lasting structure of philosopliy, founded 
 not in arbitrary opinions or specious conjectures, but 
 in truth and experience ; it was absolutely necessary 
 to his design, first to review accurately the state of 
 learning as it then stood, through all its provinces and 
 divisions. To do this effectually required, with an 
 uncommon measure of knowledge, a discernment 
 not only exquisite but universal : tlie \vhole intellec- 
 tual world was subjected to its examination and 
 censure. That he might not lose himself on a subject 
 so vast and of sucli variety ; he has, according to the 
 three faculties of the soul, memory, fancy, under- 
 standing, ranged the numerous train of arts under 
 three great classes, history, poetry, philosophy. 
 These may be considered as the principal trunks from 
 which shoot forth, in prodigious diversity, the lesser 
 parts and branches of science. Whatever is deficient, 
 erroneous, or still wanting in each, he has pointed 
 out at large : together with the properest means for 
 amending the defects, for rectifying the errors, and 
 for supplying the omissions in all. Upon the whole, 
 he was not only well acquainted with every thing 
 that had been discovered in books before his time, 
 and able to pronounce critically on those discoveries : 
 he saw clearly, and at the end of this treatise has 
 marked out in one general chart, the several tracts of 
 science that lay still neglected or unknown. And to 
 say truth, some of the most valuable improvements 
 since made have grown out of the hints and notices 
 scattered throujjli this work : from which the moderns 
 have selected, each according to his fancy, one or 
 more plants to cultivate and bring to perfection.
 
 Ixxii 
 
 THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 Novum 2. The design of the Novum Organoii, which 
 
 rganoii. j^|.,^^jjj|g ^^ ^.j-^g sccoiid pait to his Instauration, and 
 may be reckoned the most considerable, was to raise 
 and enlarge the powers of the mind, by a more use- 
 fid application of its reasoning faculty to all the dif- 
 ferent objects that philosophy considers. In this 
 place om- author offers to the world a new and 
 better logic ; calculated not to supply arguments for 
 controversy, but arts for the use of mankind ; not to 
 triumph over an enemy by the sophistry of disputa- 
 tion, but to subdue nature itself by experiment and 
 inquiry. As it differs fi'om the vulgar logic in its 
 aim, it varies no less from that captious art in the 
 form of demonstrating ; for it generally rejects syllo- 
 gism, as an instrument rather hurtful than service- 
 able to the investigation of nature, and uses in its 
 stead a severe and genuine induction. Not the trivial 
 method of the schools, that, proceeding on a sim- 
 ple and superficial enumeration, pronounces at once 
 from a few particulars, exposed to the danger of con- 
 tradictory instances : but an induction that examines 
 scrupvdously the experiment in question, views it in 
 all possible lights, rejects and excludes whatever 
 does not necessarily belong to the subject; then, 
 and not till then, concluding from the affirmatives 
 left. A crowd of instances might be brought to 
 shew how greatly this method of inquiry has pro- 
 spered in the hands of the moderns ; and how fruit- 
 ful it has been of new discoveries, unknown and un- 
 imagined by antiquity. But I will only mention one 
 that may stand in place of many ; the Optics of our 
 immortal Newton : where, in a variety of experi- 
 ments, he has analysed the nature and properties of 
 light itself, of the most subtile of all bodies, with an 
 accuracy, a precision, that could hardly have been 
 expected from examining the grossest and most 
 palpable. From whence, by the method of induction, 
 he lias raised the noblest theory that any age or 
 country can sliew. 
 Phatiu. 3. Jt has been the fate of almost every considera- 
 
 u'niviisi. ble scheme for the good of mankind to be treated,
 
 I,OIlU CHANCELLOR BACON. Ixxui 
 
 at iirst, as visionary, or impracticable, merely for 
 being new. Tliis our autlior foresaw, and endea- 
 voured to obviate, in the third part of liis Instaura- 
 tion ; by furnishing materials himself towards a 
 natural and experimental history ; a work which he 
 thought so indispensably necessary, that without it 
 the united endeavours of all mankind, in all ages, 
 would be insufficient to rear and perfect the great 
 structure of the sciences. He was aware too, that 
 even men of freer and more extensive notions, who 
 relished his new logic, might be deterred fi-om re- 
 ducing it to practice, by the difficulties they would 
 meet with in experimenting, according to the rules 
 by him prescribed. He therefore led the way to 
 other inquirers, in his Sylva Sylvariun, or history of 
 nature : which, however imperfect in many respects, 
 ought to be looked upon as extensive and valuable for 
 that age, when the whole work was to be begun. This 
 collection, which did not appear till after his death, 
 has been generally considered as detached from, and 
 independent on his general plan : and therefore his 
 design in making and recording these experiments has 
 not been duly attended to by the reader. They are a 
 common repository or store-house of materials, not 
 arranged for ornament and show, but thrown loosely 
 together for the service of the philosopher : who may 
 from thence select such as fit his present purpose ; 
 and with them, by the aid of that organ or engine 
 already described, build up some part of an axiomati- 
 cal philosophy, which is the crown and completion 
 of this system. The pha^nomena of the universe 
 he ranges under three principal divisions : the history 
 of generations, or the production of all species ac- 
 cording to the common laws of nature ; that of pre- 
 ter-generations, or of births deviating from the stated 
 rule ; and thirdly, the history of nature as confined 
 or assisted, changed or tortured by the art of man : 
 which last discloses to us a new face of things, and 
 as it were another world of appearances. The use 
 of such a history he reckons two-fold; either the know- 
 ledge of (qualities in themselves : or to serve for the
 
 Ixxiv THE LIFE OE THE 
 
 first matter of a true and useful philosophy. With 
 this view only did our author make and gather toge- 
 ther the miscellaneous collection I am speaking of. 
 That many particular experiments have been found 
 doubtful or false cannot be wondered at : the whole 
 was then a tract of science uncultivated and desert. 
 If several considerable men, treading in the path he 
 struck out for them, have gone farther and surveyed it 
 more exactly than he did, yet to him is the honour 
 of their discoveries in a manner due. It was Colum- 
 bus alone who imagined there might be a new 
 world ; and who had the noble boldness to go in 
 search of it through an ocean unexplored and im- 
 mense. He succeeded in the attempt ; and led his 
 followers into a spacious continent, rich and fruitful. 
 If succeeding adventurers have penetrated farther than 
 he into its several regions, marked out and distin- 
 guished them with more accuracy ; the residt of 
 these discoveries has less extended their fame than it 
 has raised and enlarged his. 
 Scaiain. 4. After these preparations, nothing seems want- 
 teiiecius. jjjg |j^^ ^Q enter at once on the last and most exalted 
 kind of philosophy: but the author judged, that, in an 
 affair so complicated and important, some otlicr things 
 ought to precede, partly for instruction, and partly for 
 present use. He therefore interposed a fourth and 
 fifth part : the former of which he named Scala In- 
 tellectus, or a series of steps by which the understand- 
 ing might regularly ascend in its philosophical re- 
 searches. For this purpose he proposed examples of 
 inquiry and investigation, agreeable to his own me- 
 thod, in certain subjects ; selecting such especially as 
 are of the noblest order, and most widely differing 
 from one another ; that instances of every sort miglit 
 not be wanting. The fourth jiart then was to con- 
 tain a particular appHcation and illustration of the 
 second. In this light we choose to consider tlie six 
 montlily histories which he proposed to write on 
 six principal topics in natural history : namely, of 
 winds ; of life and death ; of rarefaction and con- 
 densation ; of the three chemical principles, salt, sul-
 
 LORD CHANCELLUll BACON. IxXV 
 
 phiir, mercury ; of bodies heavy and light: of sympathy 
 and antipathy. The first three, in the order I have 
 liere placed them, he prosecuted at some length ; and 
 in a manner that shews with what a happy sagacity 
 he could apply his own rules to the interpretation of 
 nature. The wonder is, that other inquirers since his 
 time have done so little towards perfecting the two 
 first mentioned, things of so great concern to human 
 society, and to every individual. As to the three last, 
 we have only a short introduction to each : death 
 having prevented him from vnriting any thing on the 
 subjects themselves. Such is our condition here : 
 whoever is capable of planning useful and extensive 
 schemes dies always too soon for mankind, even in 
 the most advanced age. 
 
 5. Of the fifth part he has left nothing but the Antidpa- 
 title and scheme. It was indeed to be only a tem- pJ||J* 
 porary structure, raised with such materials as he secunds. 
 himself had either invented, or tried, or improved ; 
 
 not according to the due form of genuine induction, 
 but by the same common use of the understanding 
 that others had employed. And this was to remain 
 no longer than till he had raised, 
 
 6. The sixth and sublimest part of this grand In- Pi.iiosophja 
 stauration, to which all the preceding are merely |J^i"a'/"'^ 
 subservient ; a philosophy purely axiomatical and sci- 
 entific; flowing from that just, castigated, genuine 
 manner of inquiry, which the author first invented 
 
 and applied. But this he despaired of being able to 
 accomplish ; and the learned of all countries from 
 his days have been only labouring some separate or 
 lesser parts of this amazing edifice, which ages to 
 come may not see finished according to the model left 
 them by this one man. 
 
 Such, and so unlimited were his views for the uni- 
 versal advancement of science ; the noble aim to 
 which he directed all his philosophic labours. What 
 Cajsar said, in compliment, to Tully, may, with strict 
 justice, be applied to him ; that it was more glorious 
 to have extended the limits of human wit, than to 
 have enlarged the bounds of the Roman world. Sir
 
 Ixxvi THE LIFE OF THE LORD CHANCELLOR BACON. 
 
 Francis Bacon really did so : a truth acknowledged 
 not only by the greatest private names in Europe, but 
 by all the public societies of its most civilized na- 
 tions. France, Italy, Germany, Britain, I may add 
 even Russia, have taken him for their leader, and 
 submitted to be governed by his institutions. The 
 empire he has erected in the learned world is as uni- 
 versal as the free use of reason : and one must con- 
 tinue, till the other is no more.
 
 PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS. 
 
 TWO BOOKS 
 
 OF 
 
 FRANCIS BACON, 
 
 OF THE 
 
 PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT 
 
 OF 
 
 LEARNING, 
 DIVINE AND HUMAN. 
 
 Co the i^ing.
 
 THE 
 
 FIRST BOOK 
 
 OP 
 
 FRANCIS BACON: 
 
 OP THE 
 
 PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT OF 
 
 LEARNING, 
 
 DIVINE AND HUMAN. 
 
 There were under the law, excellent king, both 
 daily sacrifices, and freewill offerings : the one pro- 
 ceeding upon ordinary observance, the other upon a 
 devout chearfulness : in like manner there belongeth 
 to kings from their servants, both tribute of duty, 
 and presents of affection. In the former of these, I 
 hope I shall not live to be wanting, according to my 
 most humble duty, and the good pleasure of your 
 majesty's employments : for the latter, I thought it 
 more respective to make choice of some oblation, 
 which might rather refer to the propriety and excel- 
 lency of your individual person, than to the business 
 of your crown and state. 
 
 Wherefore representing your majesty many times 
 unto my mind, and beholding you not with the in- 
 quisitive eye of presumption, to discover that which 
 the Scripture telleth me is inscrutable, but with the 
 observant eye of duty and admiration : leaving aside 
 the other parts of your virtue and fortune, I have | 
 been touched, yea, and possessed with an extreme! 
 wonder at those your virtues and faculties, which the '* 
 philosophers call intellectual : the largeness of your 
 capacity, the faithfulness of your memory, the swift-
 
 OF THE ADVANCEMENT [BOOK I. 
 
 ness of your apprehension, the penetration of your 
 judgment, and the facility and order of your elocu- 
 tion : and I have often thought, that of all the persons 
 living, that I have known, your majesty were the best 
 insjtance to make a man of Pla Lu's"'D|)i*niou,"that all 
 knowledge is but remembrance, and that the mind of 
 man by nature knoweth all things, and hath but her 
 own native and original notions (which by the strange- 
 ness and darkness of this tabernacle of the body are 
 sequestered) again revived and restored : such a light 
 of nature I have observed in your majesty, and such 
 a readiness to take flame, and blaze from the least 
 occasion presented, or the least spark of another's 
 knowledge delivered. And as the Scripture saith of 
 the wisest king, " That his heart was as the sands of 
 the sea ; " which though it be one of the largest bodies, 
 yet it consisteth of the smallest and finest portions : so 
 hath God given your majesty a composition of under- 
 standing admirable, being able to compass and com- 
 prehend the greatest matters, and nevertheless to 
 touch and apprehend the least • whereas it should 
 seem an impossibility in nature, for the same instru- 
 ment to make itself fit for great and small works. 
 And for your gift of speech, I call to mind what 
 Cornelius Tacitus saith of Augustus Cassar: " Augusto 
 proflucns, et quae principem deceret, eloquentia fuit :" 
 For, if we note it well, speech that is uttered with 
 labour and difficulty, or speech that savourcth of the 
 affectation of art and precepts, or speech that is 
 framed after the imitation of some pattern of elo- 
 quence, though never so excellent ; all this has some- 
 what servile, and holding of the subject. But your 
 majesty's manner of speech is indeed prince-like, flow- 
 ing as from a fountain, and yet streaming and branch- 
 ing itself into nature's order, full of facility and feli- 
 city, imitating none, and inimitable by any. And as 
 in your civil estate there appeareth to be an emula- 
 tion and contention of your majesty's virtue with your 
 fortune ; a virtuous disposition with a fortunate regi- 
 ment ; a virtuous expectation, when time was, of 
 your greater fortune, with a pros])erous possession 
 thereof in tlic i\\\c time ; a virtuous observation of the
 
 Book I.] ADVA XCEM EXT OF LEAT^NIXO 
 
 laws of marriage, with most blessed aiul liappy fruit 
 of marriage ; a virtuous ami most Christian desire of 
 peace, with a fortunate inclination in your neighhour 
 princes tlicrcunto : so likewise in these intellectual 
 matters, tlierc seemeth to be no less coiitention be- 
 tween the excellency of your INIajesty's gifts of nature, 
 and the universality and perfection of your learning. 
 For I am well assured, that this which I shall say is 
 no amplification at all, but a positive and measured 
 truth ; wliicli is, tliat there hath not been since Christ's 
 time any king, or temporal monarch, which hath been 
 so learned in all literature and erudition, divine and 
 human. For let a man seriously and diligently 
 revolve and peruse the succession of the emperors of 
 Rome, of which Cagsar the dictator, who lived some 
 years before Christ, and Marcus Antoninus, were the 
 best learned ; and so descend to the emperors of 
 Grajcia, or of the West ; and then to the lines of 
 France, Spain, England, Scotland, and the rest, and he 
 shall find this judgnient is truly made. For it seemeth 
 much hi a king, if, by the compendious extractions 
 of otlier men's wits and labours, he can take hold 
 of any superficial ornaments and slicws of learning, 
 or if he countenance and prefer learning and learned 
 men : but to drink indeed of the true fountains 
 of learning, nay, to have such a fountain of learn- 
 ing in himself, in a king, and in a king born, is 
 almost a miracle. And the more, because therc is 
 met in your majesty a rare conjuuctiou^ a& welLof 
 divine and sacred literature, as of profane and human ; 
 so as your majesty standeth invested of that triplicity, 
 which in great veneration was ascribed to the ancient 
 Hermes : the power and fortune of a king, the know- 
 ledge and illumination of a priest, and the learning 
 and universality of a philosopher. This propriety, 
 inherent and individual attribute in your majesty, 
 deserveth to be expressed, not only in the fame and 
 admiration of the present time, nor in the history 
 or tradition of the ages succeeding ; but also in some 
 solid work, fixed memorial, and immortal monument, 
 bearing a character or signature, both of the power 
 
 \'OI,. I. B
 
 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 of a king, and the difference and perfection of such 
 a king. 
 
 Therefore I did conclude with myself, that I could 
 not make unto your majesty a better oblation, than of 
 some treatise tending to that end, whereof the sum 
 will consist of t hese two jarts ; the former conc^rn- 
 I ing the excellency of learning and kiiowlcclge, and 
 I the excellency orfFe'merit and true glory in theaug- 
 • mentation and propagation thereof ; the latter2_what 
 the particular acts and works are, whicTi have been 
 ■ embraced and undertaken for the advancement of 
 i learning ; and again, what defects and undervaruesn[ 
 find in such particular acts : to the end, that though 
 I cannot j)ositively or affirmatively advise your ma- 
 jesty, or propound unto you framed particidars ; yet I 
 may excite your princely cogitations to visit the 
 excellent treasure of your own mind, and thence to 
 extract particulars for this purpose, agreeable to your 
 magnanimity and wisdom. 
 
 In the entrance to the former of these, to clear the 
 way, and, as it were, to make silence, to have the true 
 testimonies concerning the dignity of learning to be 
 better heard, without the interruption of tacit objec- 
 tions ; I think good to deliver it from the discredits 
 and disgraces which it hath received, all from igno^^ — 
 ranee, but ignorance severally disguised; appearing 
 sometiines in the zeal and jealousy of divines, some- 
 times in the severity and arrogancy of politicians, and 
 sometimes in the errors and imperfections of learned 
 men themselves. 
 
 r hear the former sort say, that knowledge is of 
 those things which are to be accepted of with great 
 , limitation and caution ; that the aspiring to oyer- 
 j much knowledge, was the original temptation and sin, 
 whereupon ensued the fall of man; that knowledge 
 hath in it somewhat of the serpent, and therefore 
 where it entereth into a man it makes him swell ; 
 Scientia inflat : that Solomon gives a censure, " That 
 there is no end of making books, and that much 
 reading is weariness of the flesh;" and again in
 
 Book r.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 
 
 another place, " That in spacious knowledge there is 
 much contristation, and that he that increaseth 
 knowledge increaseth anxiety ; " that St. Paul gives 
 a caveat, " That we be not spoiled througli vain phi- 
 losophy; " that experience demonstrates how learned 
 men have been arch -heretics, how learned times have 
 been inclined to atheism, and how the contemplation 
 of second causes doth derogate from our dependence 
 upon God, who is the first cause. 
 
 To discover then the ignorance and error of this 
 opinion, and the misunderstanding in the grounds 
 thereof^ it may well appear these men do not observe 
 or consider, that it was not the pure knowledge of 
 nature and universality, a knowledge by the light 
 whereof man did give names unto other creatures in 
 paradise, as they were brought before him, according 
 unto their proprieties, which gave the occasion to the 
 fall ; but it was the proud knowledge of good and 
 evil, with an intent in man to give law unto himself, 
 and to depend no more upon God's commandments, 
 which was the form of the temptation. Neither is 
 is it any quantity of knowledge, how great soever, that 
 can make the mind of man to swell ; for nothing can 
 fill, much less extend the soul of man, but God, 
 and the contemplation of God ; and therefore Solo- 
 mon, speaking of the two principal senses of inquisi- 
 tion, the eye and the ear, affirmeth that the eye is 
 never satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with hearing ; 
 and if there be no fulness, then is the continent 
 greater than the content : so of knowledge itself, 
 and the mind of man, whereto the senses are but 
 reporters, he defineth likewise in these words, placed 
 after that calendar or ephemerides, which he maketh 
 of the diversities of times and seasons for all actions 
 and purposes ; and concludeth thus : " God hath made 
 all things beautiful, or decent, in the true return of 
 their seasons: Also he hath placed the world in man's 
 heart, yet cannot man find out the work which God 
 worketh from the beginning to the end : " declaring, 
 not obscurely, that GocLhath framed tlieixiind- of man 
 as a mirror, or gl as s^ capal)leof the r magcjof thejuniKer- 
 
 B 2 '
 
 8 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 sal world, and joyful to receive the impression thereof, 
 as thT eye joyetli to receive light : and not only de- 
 lighted in beholding the variety of things, and vicis- 
 situde of times, but raised also to find out and discern 
 the ordinances and decrees, which throughout all those 
 changes are infallibly observed. And althougli he doth 
 insinuate, that the supreme or summary law of nature, 
 which he calleth, " The work which God worketh 
 from the beginning to the end, is not possible to be 
 found out by man ; " yet that doth not derogate 
 from the capacity of the mind, but may be referred 
 to the impediments, as of shortness of life, ill 
 conjunction of labours, ill tradition of knowledge over 
 from hand to hand, and many other inconveniencies, 
 where unto the condition of man is subject. For that 
 nothing parcel of the world is denied to man's in- 
 quiry and invention, he doth in another place rule 
 over, when he saith, " The spirit of man is as the lamp 
 of God, wherewith he searcheth the inwardness of 
 all secrets." If then such be the capacity and receipt 
 of the mind of man, it is manifest, that there_is_iiD 
 danger at all in the proportfcHT'or quantity oLknoHt 
 ledge, how large soever, lest it should make itjswell 
 or OUt-compaSs itself ; no, but it is merely the gu ality 
 of knowledge, which, be it in quantity more or less, 
 if it be taken without the true corrective thereof, hath 
 in it some nature of venom or malignity, and some 
 effects of that venom, which is ventosity or swelling. 
 This corrective spice, the mixture whereof maketh 
 knowledge so sovereigiiriscBarityr which the apostle 
 immediately addifith to the former clause ; for so he 
 saith, " knowledge bloweth up, but charity buildetli 
 up ; " not unlike unto that which he delivereth in 
 another place : " If I spake," saith he, " with the 
 tongues of men and angels, and had not charity, it 
 were but as a tinkling cymbal ; " not but that it 
 is an excellent thing to speak with the tongues of men 
 and angels, but because, if it be severed from charity, 
 and not referred to the good of men and mankind, it 
 hath rather a sounding and unworthy glory, than a 
 meriting and substantial virtue. And as for that
 
 Jiook I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 
 
 censure of Solomon, concerning the excess of %vTiting 
 and reading books, and the anxiety of spirit which re- 
 doundeth from knowledge; and that admonition of 
 St. Paul, " That we be not seduced by vain philoso- 
 phy ; " let those places be rightly understood, and 
 they do indeed excellently set forth the true bounds 
 and limitations, whereby human knowledge is con- 
 fined and circumscribed ; and yet without any such con- 
 tracting or coarctation, but that it may comprehend all 
 the universal nature of things: for these limitations are 
 three : the first, that we do not so place our feli city i n 
 knowledge, as we forget our mortality: Tlie second, 
 that we make application of our knowledge, tq^ive i 
 ourselves rcpose~aiid cbii tcii tmch f ^ aji^'nof distaste or 
 repining. [The third, tliat wc do not presume by the 
 contemplation of nature to attain to the. mysteries of 
 G^dTiTor as touching the first of these, Solomon 
 doth excellently expound himself in another place of 
 the same book, where he saith ; •' I saw well that 
 knowledge reccdeth as far from ignorance, as light 
 doth from darkness ; and that the wise man's eyes 
 keep watch in his head, whereas the fool roundeth 
 about in darkness : but withal I learned, that the 
 same mortality involveth them both." And for the 
 second, certain it is, there is no vexation or anxiety of 
 mind which resulteth from knowledge, otherwise than 
 merely by accident; for all knowledge and wonder 
 (which is the seed of knowledge) is an impression of 
 pleasure in itself : but when men fall to framing con- 
 clusions out of their knowledge, applying it to their 
 particular, and ministring to themselves thereby weak 
 fears, or vast desires, there groweth that carefulness 
 and trouble of mind which is spoken of: for then know- 
 ledge is no more Lumen siccum, whereof Heraclitus 
 the profound said, '' Lumen siccum optima anima;" but 
 it bccometh Lumen madidam, or maceratum, being 
 steeped and infused in the humours of the affections. 
 And as for the third point, it deserveth to be a little 
 stood upon, and not to be lightly passed over : for if 
 any man shall think by view and inquiry into these 
 sensible and material things to attain that light, where-
 
 10 ADYANX'EAIENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 by he inay reveal unto himself the nature or will of 
 God, then indeed is he spoiled by vain philosophy ; 
 for the contemplation of God's creatures and woiks 
 produceth (having regard, to the \vorks and creatures 
 themselves) knowledge ; but, having regard to God, 
 no perfect knowledge, but wonder, which is broken 
 knowledge. And therefore it was most aptly said 
 by one of Plato's school, " That the sense of man 
 carrieth a resemblance with the sun, which, as we 
 see openeth and revealeth ail the terrestrial globe ; 
 but then again it obscureth and concealeth the 
 stars and celestial globe : so doth the sense dis- 
 cover natural things, but it darkeneth and shutteth 
 up divine." And hence it is true, that it hath 
 proceeded, that divers great learned men have been 
 heretical, whilst they have sought to fly up to the 
 secrets of the Deity by the waxen wings of the 
 senses : and as for the conceit, that too much know- 
 ledge should incline a man to atheism, and that the 
 ignorance of second causes should make a more 
 devout dependence upon God, who is the first cause : 
 First, it is good to ask the question which Job asked 
 of his friends : " Will you lie for God, as one man will 
 ** do for another, to gratify him ? " For certain it is, 
 that God worketh nothing in nature but by second 
 causes ; and if they would have it otherwise believed, it 
 is mere imposture, as it were in favour towards God ; 
 and nothing else but to offer to the author of truth 
 the unclean sacrifice of a lie. But farther, it is an 
 assured truth, and a conclusion of experience, that a 
 little or superficial knowledge of philosophy may 
 I incline the mind of man to atheism, but_j^- farther 
 proceeding therein doth bring the mind back again 
 to religion ; for in the entrance of philosophy, when 
 the second causes, which are next unto the senses, do 
 offer themselves to the mind of man, if it dwell and 
 stay there, it may induce some oblivion of tlie highest 
 cause ; but when a man passeth on farther, and 
 secth the dependence of causes and the works of 
 providence ; tlien, according to the allegory of the 
 |)0€ts, he will easily believe that the highest link of
 
 l?00k I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. Il 
 
 nature's chain must needs be tied to tlie foot of 
 Jupiter's chair. To conclude therefore : let no man, 
 upon a weak conceit of sobriety, or an ill-applied 
 moderation, think or maintain, that a man can search 
 too far, or be too well studied in the book of God's 
 word, or in the book of God's works ; divinity or 
 philosophy ; but rather let men endeavour an endless 
 progress, or proficience in both ; only let men beware 
 that they apply both to charity, and not to swelling ; 
 to use, and not to ostentation ; and again, that they 
 do not unwisely mingle, or confound these learnings 
 together. 
 
 And as for the disgraces which learning rcceiveth 
 from politicians, they be of this nature ; that learning 
 doth soften mens minds, and makes themliiiore una]Tl| 
 for fhe hoiToiir aiidT exercise of arms; that it doth mat^ 
 and pervert mens dispositions for matfer of govern-| 
 ment and policy, in making them too curious and^ 
 irresolute by variety of reading, or too peremptory or 
 positive by strictness of rules and axioms, or too im- 
 moderate aud overweening by reason of the greatness 
 of examples, or too incompatible and differing from 
 the times, by reason of the dissimilitude of examples ; 
 or at least, that it doth divert mens travels from action 
 and business, and bringeth them to a love of leisure 
 and privateness ; and that it doth bring into states a 
 relaxation of discipline, whilst every man is more 
 ready to argue than to obey and execute. Out of 
 this conceit, Cato, sumamed the Censor, one of the 
 wisest men indeed that ever lived, when Carneades 
 the philosopher came in embassage to Rome, and that 
 the young men of Rome began to flock about him, 
 being allured with the sweetness and majesty of his 
 eloquence and learning, gave counsel in open senate, 
 that they should give him his dispatch with all speed, 
 lest he should infect and inchant the minds and affec- 
 tions of the youth, and at unawares bring in an altera- 
 tion of the manners and customs of the state. Out 
 of the same conceit, or humour, did Virgil, turning 
 his pen to the advantage of his country, and the 
 disadvantage of his own profession, make a kind of
 
 12 ADVANCEMENT OF LEAKNING. [Book I. 
 
 separation between policy and government, and be- 
 tween arts and sciences, in the verses so mnch re- 
 nowned, attributing and challenging the one to tlie 
 Romans, and leaving and yielding the other to the 
 Grecians ; " Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, me- 
 mento, Has tibi erunt artes, etc." So likewise we 
 see that Anytus, the accuser of Socrates, laid it as an 
 article of charge and accusation against him, that he 
 did, with the variety and power of his discourses and 
 disputations, withdraw young men from due reverence 
 to the laws and customs of their country ; and that 
 he did profess a dangerous and pernicious science, 
 which was, to make the worse matter seem the better, 
 and to suppress truth by force of eloquence and 
 speech. 
 
 But these, and the like imputations, have rather 
 a countenance of gravity, than any ground of justice : 
 for experience doth warrant, that, both in persons and 
 in times, therfijiajdij^een^ajneeting and concurrence 
 in leanriii^' and /arnas,..,gflaumhing and excelling injtiie 
 sam&,iaen, and, the same ages For, as for men, there 
 cannot be a better, nor the like instance, as of that 
 pair, Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar the 
 dictator ; whereof the one was Aristotle's scholar in 
 philosophy, and the other was Cicero's rival in elo- 
 quence : or if any man had rather call for scholars, 
 that were great generals, than generals that were great 
 scholars, let him take Epaminondas the Theban, or 
 Xenophon the Athenian ; whereof the one was the 
 first that abated the power of Sparta, and the other 
 was the first that made way to the overthrow of the 
 monarchy of Persia. And this concurrence is yet 
 more visible in times than in persons, by how much 
 an age is greater object than a man. For botli in 
 jEgypt, Assyria, Persia, Graicia, and Rome, the same 
 times that are most renowned for arms, are likewise 
 most admired for learning ; so that the greatest au- 
 thors and philosophers, and the greatest captains and 
 governors have lived in the same ages. Neither can 
 it otherwise be : for as, in man, tlie ripeness of the 
 strength of body and mind cometli mucli about an age,
 
 J3ook 1.] ADVANCKiMENT OF LEARNING. 13 
 
 save that tlic strciigtli of the body comctli somewhat 
 the more early; so, in states, arms and leaniing, where- 
 of the one correspoudeth to the body, the other to the 
 soul of man, have a concurrence or near sequence in 
 times. 
 
 And for matter of policy and government, that 
 learning should rather liurt, tlian enable thereunto, 
 is a thing very im})robable : we see it is accounted 
 an error to commit a natural body to empiric physi- 
 cians, which commonly have a few pleasing receipts, 
 whereupon tliey are confident and adventurous, but 
 know neither the causes of diseases, nor the com- 
 plexions of patients, nor peril of accidents, nor the 
 true method of cures : we see it is a like error to rely 
 upon advocates or lawyers, which are only men of 
 practice, and not grounded in their books, who arc 
 many times easily surprised, when matter falleth out 
 besides tlicir experience, to the jH'ejudice of the causes 
 they handle : so, by like reason, it cannot be but a 
 matter of doubtful con segueu ce> if states be maji^ed 
 by empnic statesmen, not well mingled with njen 
 r^'^lllJjJi^LJilAf.it'U"'^'^ But contrari\vise, it is almost 
 without instance contradictory, that ever any goveni- 
 meut was disastrous that was in the hands of learned 
 governors. For howsoever it hath been ordinary with 
 ])olitic men to extenuate and disable learned men by 
 the names of pedants ; yet in the records of time it 
 appeareth, in many particulars, that the governments 
 of princes in minority (notwithstanding the infinite 
 disadvantage of that kind of state) have nevertheless 
 excelled the government of princes of mature age, 
 even for that reason which they seek to traduce, 
 which is, that by that occasion the state hath been 
 in the hands of pedants : for so was the state of 
 Rome for the first five years, which are so much mag- 
 nified, during the minority of Nero, in the hands of 
 Seneca, a pedant : so it was again for ten years space 
 or more during the minority of Gordianus the younger, 
 witli great applause and contentation in the hands of 
 Misitheus, a pedant : so was it before that, in the 
 minority of Alexander Severus, in like happiness, in
 
 14 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 hands not much unhke, by reason of the rule of the 
 women, who were aided by the teachers and precep- 
 tors. Nay, let a man look into the government of 
 the bishops of Rome, as by name, into the government 
 of Pius Quintus, and Sextus Quintus, in our times, 
 who were both at their entrance esteemed but as 
 pedautical friars, and he shall find that such popes do 
 greater things, and proceed upon truer principles of 
 state, than those which have ascended to the papacy 
 from an education and breeding in affairs of state and 
 courts of princes ; for although men bred in learning 
 are perhaps to seek in points of convenience, and ac- 
 commodating for the present, wliich the Italians call 
 ragioni di stato, whereof the same Pius Quintus could 
 not hear spoken with patience, terming them inven- 
 tions against religion and the moral virtues ; yet on 
 the other side, to recompense that, they are perfect 
 in those same plain grounds of religion, justice, ho- 
 nour, and moral virtue, which if tliey be well and 
 watchfully pursued, there will be seldom use of those 
 other, no more than of physic in a sound or well- 
 dieted body. Neither can the experience of one 
 man's life furnish examples and precedents for the 
 events of one man's life : for as it happeneth some- 
 times that the grandchild, or other descendent, re- 
 sembleth the ancestor, more than the son ; so many 
 times occurrences of present times may sort better 
 with ancient examples, than with those of the later 
 or immediate times : and lastly, the wit of one man 
 can no more countervail learning, than one man's 
 means can hold way with a common purse. 
 
 And as for those particular seduccments, or indis- 
 positions of the mind for policy and government, which 
 learning is pretended to insinuate ; if it be granted 
 that any such tiling be, it must be remembered withal, 
 that learning miiiistcreth in every of them greater 
 strength of medicine or remedy, than it offereth cause 
 of indisposition or infirmity : for if, by a secret ope- 
 ration, it make men perplexed and irresolute, on the 
 other side, by plain precept, it teacheththem when, and 
 upon what ground, to resolve ; yea, and how to carry
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEAllNING. 15 
 
 things in suspense without prejudice, till they resolve : 
 if it make men positive and regular, it teacheth them 
 what things are in their nature demonstrative, and 
 what are conjectural ; and as well the use of distinc- 
 tions and exceptions, as tlic latitude of principles and 
 rules. If it mislead by disproportion, or dissimilitude 
 of examples, it teacheth men the force of circum- 
 stances, the errors of comparisons, and all the cau- 
 tions of application : so that in all these it doth rec- 
 tify more effectually than it can pervert. And these 
 medicines it conveyeth into mens minds much more 
 forcibly by the quickness and penetration of examples. 
 For let a man look into the errors of Clement the se- 
 venth, so lively described by Guicciardinc, who served 
 under him, or into the errors of Cicero, painted out 
 by his own pencil in his epistles to Atticus, and he will 
 fly apace from being irresolute. Let him look into the 
 errors of Phocion, and he will beware how he be ob- 
 stinate or inflexible. Let him but read the fable of 
 Ixion, and it will hold him from being vaporous or 
 imaginative. Let him look into the errors of Cato 
 the second, and he will never be one of the Anti- 
 podes, to tread opposite to the present world. 
 
 And fot.th e co nceit, that learning should dispose 
 men to leisure and jirivatencs^, and make men slothful ; 
 it were~arstrange thing if that, which accustometh 
 the mind to a perpetual motion and agitation, shoidd 
 induce slothfulness ; whereas contrariwise it may be 
 truly affirmed, that no kind of men love business for 
 itself but those that are learned : for other persons 
 love it lor profit ; as an hireling, that loves the work for 
 the wages ; or for honour, as because it beareth them 
 up in the eyes of men, and refresheth their reputa- 
 tions, which otherwise would wear ; or because it 
 putteth them in mind of their fortune, and giveth 
 them occasion to pleasure and displeasure; or because 
 it exerciseth some faculty wherein they take pride, 
 and so entertaineth them in good humour and pleas- 
 ing conceits toward themselves ; or because it ad- 
 vanceth any other their ends. 80 that, as it is said 
 of untrue valours, that some mens valoiu's are in the
 
 lb' ABVANCFMEXT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 eyes of them that look on : so such mens industries 
 are in the eyes of others, or at least in regard of their 
 OAvn designments : only learned men love business, 
 as an action according to nature, as agiejeaels^^to 
 health-jlL-KUiidj, as exercise is to health of body, tak-^ 
 ing pleasure in the action itself, and not in the pur- 
 chase : so that of all men they are the most indefati- 
 gable, if it be towards any business which can hold 
 or detain their mind, 
 j And if any man be laborious in reading and study, 
 I and yet idle in business and action, it grovveth from 
 f some weakness of body, or softness of spirit ; such as 
 Seneca speaketh of: " Quidam tarn sunt umbratiles, 
 ut putent in turbido esse, quicquid in luce est;" and 
 not of learning : well may it be, that such a point of 
 a man's nature may make him give himself to learn- 
 ing, but it is not learning that breedeth any sucli 
 point in his nature. 
 
 And that learning should take up too much time or 
 leisure : I answer ; the most active or busy man, that 
 hath been or can be, hatli, no question, many vacant 
 times of leisure, while he expectcth the tides and re- 
 turns of business (except he be either tedious and of 
 no dispatch, or lightly and unworthily ambitious to 
 meddle in things that may be better done by others :) 
 and then the question is but, how those spaces and 
 times of leisure shall be filled and spent ; whether in 
 pleasures, or in studies ; as was well answered by De- 
 mosthenes to his adversary .^.schines, that was a man 
 given to pleasure, and told him, " that his orations did 
 smell of the lamp : " " Indeed," said Demosthenes, 
 " there is a great difference between the things that 
 you and I do by lamp-light." / So as no man need 
 doubt, that learning will expulscljusiness, but ra- 
 ther it will keep and defend the possession of the 
 mind against idleness and pleasure ; which otherwise, 
 at unawares, may enter to the prejudice of botli. 
 
 iVgain, for that other conceit, that learning should 
 undermine the reverence of laws and government, 
 it is assuredly a mere ~^cpravation and calumny, with- 
 out all shadow of truth. For to say, that a blind
 
 Book. I.] ADVANCEMENT OV LEARNING. 17 
 
 custom of obedience sliould be a surer obligation, 
 than duty tauglit and understood ; it is to affirm, that 
 a blind num may tread surer by a guide, than a seeing 
 man can by a light. And it is without all contro- 
 versy, that learning doth make the minds of men 
 gentle, generous, maniable, and pliant to government ; 
 whereas ignorance makes them churlish, thwarting, 
 and mutinous : and the evidence of time doth clear 
 this assertion, considering that th.o most l)arl)arous, -y 
 rude, and unlearned, times have been most sul'ijdct 
 to tumults, seditions, and changes. 
 
 And as to tile judgment of Cato the Censor, he 
 was well punished for his blasphemy against learning, 
 in the same kind wherein he offended ; for when he 
 was past threescore years old, he was taken with an 
 extreme desire to go to school again, and to learn 
 the Greek tongue, to the end to peruse the Greek 
 authors, which doth well demonstrate, that his former 
 censure of the Grecian learning was rather an 
 affected gravity, than according to the inward sense 
 of his own opinion. And as for Mrgil's verses, 
 though it pleased him to brave the world, in taking to 
 the Romans the art of empire, and leaving to others 
 the arts of subjects ; yet so much is manifest, that the 
 Romans never ascended to that height of empire, till 
 the time they had ascended to the height of other 
 arts. For in the time of the two first Caesars, which 
 had the art of government in greatest perfection, there 
 lived the best poet, Virgilius Maro ; the best historio- 
 grapher, Titus Livius ; the best antiquary, Marcus 
 Varro ; and the best or second orator, ^larcus Cicero, 
 that to the memory of man are known. As for the 
 accusation of Socrates, the time must be remembered 
 when it was prosecuted ; which was under the thirty 
 tyrants, the most base, bloody, aud envious persons 
 that have governed ; which revolution of state was 
 no sooner over, but Socrates, whom they had made 
 a person criminal, was made a person heroical, and 
 his memory accumulate with honours divine and 
 human ; and those discourses of his, which were then 
 termed corrupting of manners, were after acknow-
 
 LC'«^ 
 
 18 ABTANCEMENT OF I.EArcNIXG. [Book I. 
 
 ledged for sovereign medicines of the mind and man- 
 ners, and so have been received ever since, till this day. 
 Let this therefore serve for answer to politicians, 
 which, in their humorous severity, or in their feigned 
 gravity, have presumed to throw imputations upon 
 learning ; which redargution, nevertheless, (save that 
 we know not whether our labours may extend to 
 other ages) were not needful for the present, in 
 regard of the love and reverence towards learning, 
 which the example and countenance of two so 
 learned princes, queen Elizabeth and your majesty, 
 being as Castor and Pollux, lucida sidera, stars 
 of excellent light and most benign influence, hath 
 wrought in all men of place and authority in our 
 nation. 
 A^> Now therefore we come to th^t . third sort^f dis- 
 credit^ or diminution of credit, that groweth unto 
 learning from learned men themselves, which com- 
 monly cleaveth fastest : it is„either from their fortune, 
 or froni their manners, or from the nature oF. their 
 studies. For the first, it is not in their power ; and 
 the second is accidental ; the third only is proper 
 to be handled : but because we are not in hand with 
 true measure, but with popular estimation and con- 
 ceit, it is not amiss to speak somewhat of the two 
 former. The derogations therefore, which grow to 
 learning from the fortune or condition of learned 
 men, are either in respect of scarcity of means, or 
 in respect of privateness of life, and meanness of 
 employments. 
 
 Cojicerning want, and that it is the case of learned 
 men usually to Begin with little, and not to grow 
 '^'' ricli so fast as other men, by reason they convert nof 
 their laboiu-s cliiefly to lucre and increase : It were 
 good to leave the common place in commendation of 
 poverty to some frier to handle, to whom much 
 was attributed by Machiavel in this point ; when he 
 said, " that the kingdom of the clergy had been 
 long before at an end, if the reputation, and re- 
 verence towards the poverty of friers had not borne 
 out the scandal of the superfluities and excesses of
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT 01" LEARNING. Id 
 
 bishops and prelates." So a man niiglit say, that the 
 felicity and delicacy of princes and great persons had 
 long since turned to rudeness and barbarism, if the , 
 poverty of learning had not kept up civility and " 
 lionourof life : but, without any such advantages, it is ' 
 worthy the observation, what a reverend and honoured 
 thing poverty of fortune was, for some ages, in the 
 Roman state, which nevertheless was a state wdthout 
 paradoxes ; for we see what Titus Livius saith in his 
 introduction : " Caeterum aut me amor negotii suscepti 
 fallit, aut nulla unquam respublica nee major, nee 
 sanctior, nee bonis exemplis ditior fuit ; nee in quam 
 tarn serae avaritia luxuriaque immigraverint ; nee 
 ubi tantus ac tarn diu paupertati ac parsimonias 
 lionos fuerit." We see likewise, after that the state 
 of Rome was not itself, but did degenerate, how that 
 person, that took upon him to be counsellor to Julius 
 Ceesar, after his victory, where to begin his restoration 
 of the state, maketh it of all points the most summary 
 to take away the estimation of wealth : " Verum haec 
 et omnia mala pariter cum honore pecuniae desinent, 
 si neque magistratus, neque alia vulgo cupienda, 
 venalia erunt." To conclude this point, as it was 
 truly said, that " rubor est virtutis color," though some- 
 times it comes from vice : so it may be fitly said, that 
 " paupertas est virtutis fortuna ; " though sometimes it 
 may proceed from misgovernment and accident. Surely 
 Solomon hath pronounced it both in censure, " Qui 
 festinat ad divitias, non erit insons;" and in precept; 
 " Buy the truth and sell it uat4-" and so of wisdom 
 and knowledge ; judging that means were to be spent 
 upon learning, and not learning to be applied to 
 means. And as for the privateness, or obscureness (as 
 it may be in vulgar estimation accounted) of life of 
 contemplative men ; it is a theme so common, to extol 
 a private life, not taxed with sensuality and sloth, in 
 comparison, and to the disadvantage of a civil life, for 
 safety, liberty, pleasure, and dignity, or at least 
 freedom from indignity, as no man haudleth it, but 
 handleth it well : such a consonancy it hath to mens 
 conceits in the expressing, and to mens consents in the
 
 ABVANCKMENT OF I.EaENIXG. [Book I. 
 
 allowing. This only I will add, that learned men, 
 forgotten in states, and not living in the eyes of men, 
 are like the images of Cassius and Brntus in the 
 funeral of Junia ; of which not being represented, 
 as many others were, Tacitus saith, " Eo ipso prsc- 
 fulgebant, quod non visebantur." 
 
 And for the meanness of employment, that which is 
 most traduced to contempt, is, that the government of 
 youth is commonly allotted to them ; wliich age, be- 
 cause it is the age of least authority, it is transferred 
 to the disesteeming of those employments wherein 
 youth is conversant, and which are conversant about 
 youth. But how unjust this traducement is (if you 
 will reduce things from popularity of opinion to 
 measure of reason) may appear in that we see men 
 are more curious what they put into a now vessel, 
 than into a vessel seasoned ; and what mould they lay 
 about a young plant, than about a plant corroborate ; 
 so as the weakest terms and times of all things use 
 to have the best applications and helps. And will you 
 hearken to the Hebrew Rabbins ? " Your young men 
 ** shall see visions, and your old men shall dream 
 *' dreams;" say they,youthisthe w^orthierage, forthat 
 visions are nearer apparitions of God than dreams. 
 And let it be noted, that howsoever tlie condition of 
 life of pedants hath been scorned upon theatres, as the 
 ape of tyranny ; and that the modern looseness or 
 negligence hath taken no due regard to the choice of 
 schoolmasters and tutors ; yet the ancient wisdom of 
 the best times did always make a just complaint, that 
 states were too busy with their laws, and too negli- 
 genFlii point of education iwhicji a:^cellent part or 
 ancient discipline liath been in some sort revived, of 
 late times, by the colleges of the Jesuits ; of whom, 
 although in regard of tlieir superstition I may say 
 " quo mcliores, eo deteriores ;" yet in regard of this, 
 and some other points concerning human learning and 
 moral matters, I may say, as Agesilaus said to his 
 enemy Pharnabasus, " Talis quum sis, utinam noster 
 esses." And thus much touching tlie dircrcdits drawn 
 from the fortunes of learned men.
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 21 
 
 As touching the manners of learned men, i^ is a 
 thing personal and individual : and no doubt tHere be 
 amongst them, as in other professions, of all tempe- 
 ratures ; but yet so as it is not without truth, which 
 is said, that " abeunt studia in mores," studies have 
 an influence and operation upon the manners of those 
 that are conversant in them. 
 
 But upon an attentive and indifferent review, I, for 
 my part, cannot find any disgrace to learning can 
 proceed from the manners of learned men not inhe- 
 rent to them as they are learned; except it be a 
 fault (wliich was the supposed fault of Demosthenes, 
 Cicero, Cato the second, Seneca, and many more) 
 that, because the times they read of are commonly 
 better than the times they live in, and the duties 
 taught better than the duties practised, they contend 
 sometimes too far to bring things to perfection, and 
 to reduce the corruption of manners to honesty of 
 precepts, or examples of too great height. And yet 
 hereof they have caveats enough in their own walks. 
 For Solon, when he was asked whether he had given 
 his citizens the best laws, answered wisely, " Yea, of 
 " such as they would receive : " And Plato, finding that 
 his own heart could not agree with the corrupt man- 
 ners of his country, refused to bear place or office ; 
 saying, " That a man's country was to be used as his 
 parents were, that is, with humble persuasions, and 
 not with contestations." And Caesar's counsellor 
 put in the same caveat, " Non ad Vetera instituta revo- 
 cans, quae jampridem corruptis moribus ludibrio 
 sunt :" and Cicero noted this error directly in Cato the 
 second, when he writes to his friend Atticus ; " Cato 
 optime sentit, sed nocet interdum reipublicae ; loqui- 
 tur enim tanquam in republica Platonis, non tanquam 
 in fsDce Romuli." And the same Cicero doth excuse 
 and expound the philosophers for going too far, and 
 being too exact in their prescripts, when he saith, " Isti 
 ipsi prajceptores virtutis et magistri videntm* fines 
 officiorum paulo longius, quam natura vellet, protu- 
 lisse, ut cum ad ultimum animo contendissemus, ibi 
 tamen, ubi oportef, consisteremus : " and yet himself 
 
 VOL. L c
 
 22 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 might have said, "Monitis sum minor ipse meis;" for it 
 was his o\Mi fault, though not in so extreme a degree. 
 Another fault likewise much of this kind hath 
 been incident to learned men ; which is, tha±_ihey 
 have esteemed the preservation, good, and lioiunuL.of 
 theu;_comi tries or masters, before their own fortunes 
 or safeties.. For so saith Demosthenes unto the 
 Athenians : " If it please you to note it, my counsels 
 unto you are not such, whereby I should grow great 
 amongst you, and you become little amongst the 
 Grecians: but they be of that nature, as they 
 are sometimes not good for me to give, but are 
 always good for you to follow." And so Seneca, after 
 he had consecrated that Quinquennium Neronis 
 to the eternal glory of learned governors, held on his 
 honest and loyal course of good and free counsel, 
 after his master grew extremely corrupt in his go- 
 vernment. Neither can this point otherwise be ; for 
 learning endueth mens minds with a true sense of 
 the frailty of their persons, the casualty of their 
 fortunes, and the dignity of their soul and vocation : so 
 that it is impossible for them to esteem that any great- 
 ness of their own fortune can be a true or worthy end 
 of their being and ordainment; and therefore are 
 desirous to give their account to God, and so like- 
 wise to their masters under God (as kings and the 
 states that they serve) in these words ; " Ecce tibi 
 lucrifeci," and not " Ecce mihi lucrifeci : " whereas 
 the corrupter sort of mere politicians, that have not 
 their thoughts established by learning in the love and 
 apprehension of duty, nor ever look abroad into uni- 
 versality, do refer all things to themselves, and thrust 
 themselves into the centre of the world, as if all lines 
 should meet in them and their fortunes ; never caring, 
 in all tempests, what becomes of the sliip of state, so 
 they may save themselves in the cock-boat of their 
 own fortune; whereas men that feel tlie weight of 
 duty, and know the limits of self-love, use to make 
 good their places and duties, though with peril. And 
 if they stand in seditious and violent alterations, it is 
 rather the reverence which manv times both adverse
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 23 
 
 l)arts do give to honesty, than any versatile advan- 
 tage of their own carriage. But for this point of 
 tender sense, and fast obhgation of duty, which learn- 
 ing doth endue the mind withal, howsoever fortune 
 may tax it, and many in the depth of their corrupt 
 principles may despise it, yet it will receive an open 
 allowance, and therefore needs the less disproof or 
 excusation. 
 
 Another fault incident commonly to learned men, 
 which may be more probably defended than truly 
 denied, is, that they fail sometimes in applying them- 
 selves to particular persons : wTiTcli'^'ant of exact 
 application ariseth^frohiTvvt) causes ; the one, because 
 the larffcness of their mind can hardly confine itself 
 to dweU in tlic exquisite observation or examination 
 of the nature and customs of one person : for it is a 
 speech for a lover, and not for a wise man : " Satis 
 magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus." Nevertheless 
 I shall yield, that he that cannot contract the sight of 
 his mind, as well as disperse and dilate it, wanteth 
 great fliculty, But there is a second cause, which 
 is no inability, but a rejection upon choice and judg- 
 ment : for the honest and just bounds of observation, 
 by one person upon another, extend no farther, but 
 to understand him sufficiently, whereby not to give 
 him offence, or whereby to be able to give him faith- 
 ful counsel, or whereby to stand upon reasonable 
 guard and caution, in respect of a man's self. But to 
 be speculative into another man, to the end to know 
 how to work him, or wind him, or govern him, pro- 
 ceedeth from a heart that is double and cloven, and 
 not entire and ingenuous ; which, as in friendship, it 
 is want of integrity, so towards princes or superiors, 
 is want of duty. For the custom of the Levant, 
 which is, that subjects do forbear to gaze or fix their 
 eyes upon princes, is in the outward ceremony barba- 
 rous, but the moral is good : for men ought not, by 
 cunning and bent observations, to pierce and penetrate 
 into the hearts of kings, which the Scripture hath de- 
 clared to be inscrutable. 
 
 There is yet another fault (with which I will con 
 c 2
 
 2i ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Boolc I. 
 
 elude this part) which is often noted in learned men, 
 that they„do, many times fail to observe decency.^nd 
 discretion in their beliaxioiU'.aud ^carriage, .a^ti*SS^" 
 mit errors in small and ordinary points oLa^on, 
 so as the vnlgar sort of capacities do make a judg- 
 ment of them in greater matters, by that which they 
 find wanting in them in smaller. But this conse- 
 quence doth often deceive men, for which I do refer 
 them over to that which was said by Themistocles, 
 arrogantly and uncivilly, being applied to himself out 
 of his own mouth ; but, being applied to the general 
 state of this question, pertinently and justly ; when, 
 being invited to touch a lute, he said, " He could 
 not fiddle, but he could make a small town a great 
 state." So, no doubt, many may be well seen in 
 the passages of government and policy, which are to 
 seek in little and punctual occasions. I refer them 
 also to that which Plato said of his master Socrates, 
 whom he compared to the gallypots of apothecaries, 
 which on the outside had apes and owls, and antiques, 
 but contained within sovereign and precious liquors 
 and confections ; acknowledging, that to an external 
 report, he was not without superficial levities and 
 deformities, but was inwardly replenished with ex- 
 cellent virtues and powers. And so much touching 
 the point of manners of learned rnen. 
 
 But in the mean time I have no purpose to give 
 allowance to some conditions and courses base and 
 unworthy, wherein divers professors of learning have 
 wronged themselves, and gone too far ; such as were 
 those trencher philosophers, which in the later age 
 of the Roman state were usually in the houses of 
 great persons, being little better than solemn pa- 
 rasites ; of which kind Lucian niaketh a merry de- 
 scription of the philosopher that the great lady took 
 to ride with her in her coach, and would needs have 
 him carry her little dog, which he doing officiously, 
 and yet uncomely, the page scoffed, and said, " That 
 he doubted, the philosopher of a Stoic would turn 
 to be a Cynic." But above all the rest, the gross 
 and palpable Hattcry, whcrcunto many, not un-
 
 Book I.] AUVANCEIVIENT OF LEARNING. 25 
 
 learned, have abased and abused their wits and pens, 
 turning, as Du Bartas saith, Hecuba into Helena, and 
 Faustina into Lueretia, hath most diminished the 
 price and estimation of learning. Nqther is the mo- ^ 
 dern dedications ofbooks and writings,„as to patrons, 
 to b^^commended : j^r that books, such as are wortKy 
 the name of books, ought to have no patrons but 
 trutK' and reason. And the ancient custom was, to 
 dedicate them only to private and ccjual friends, or 
 to intitlc the books with their names ; or if to kings 
 and great persons, it was to some such as the argu- 
 ment of the book was lit and proper for : but these 
 and the like courses may deserve rather reprehension 
 than defence. 
 
 Not that I can tax or condemn the morigeration or 
 application of learned men to men in fortune. For the 
 answer was good that Diogenes made to oiie that asked 
 him in mockery, " How it came to pass that philoso- 
 phers were the followers of rich men, and not rich 
 men of philosophers?" He answered soberly, and 
 yet sharply, " Because the one sort knew what they 
 had need of, and the other did not." And of the 
 like nature was the answer which Aristippus made, 
 when having a petition to Dionysius, and no ear given 
 to him, he fell down at his feet ; whereupon Diony- 
 sius staid, and gave him the hearing, and granted 
 it ; and afterwards some person, tender on the behalf 
 of philosophy, reproved Aristippus, that he would 
 offer the profession of philosophy such an indignity, 
 as for a private suit to fall at a tyrant's feet. But 
 he answered, "It was not his fault, but it was the 
 fault of Dionysius, that he had his ears in his feet." 
 Neither was it accounted weakness, but discretion 
 in him that would not dispute his best with Adria- 
 nus Caesar ; excusing himself, '* That it was reason 
 to yield to him that commanded thirty legions." These 
 and the like applications, and stooping to points of 
 necessity and convenience, cannot be disallowed : 
 for though they may have some outward baseness, yet 
 in a judgment truly made, they are to be aceounte^ 
 submissions to, the occasion^ and not to the person. '
 
 26 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 Now I proceed to those errors and vanities, which 
 have intiervened amongst the studies themsclvcj^j^ the 
 learned, which is that which is principal and proper 
 to file present argument ; Avherein my purpose is not 
 to make a justification of the errors, but, by a 
 censure and separation of the errors, to make a justi- 
 fication of that which is good and sound, and to deli- 
 ver that from the aspersion of the other. For we see, 
 that it is the manner of men to scandalize and 
 deprave that whicli retaineth the state and virtue, by 
 taking advantage upon that which is corrupt and de- 
 generate ; as the heatliens in the primitive Church 
 used to blemish and taint the Christians with the 
 faults and corruptions of heretics. But nevertheless I 
 have no meaning at this time to make any exact ani- 
 madversion of the errors and impediments in matters 
 of learning, which are more secret and remote from 
 vulgar opinion, but only to speak unto such as do fall 
 under, or near unto, a popular observation. 
 
 There be therefore chiefly three vanities Jii s:tudies, 
 whereby learning hath been mosTTraiTiicetT. For fho^ 
 things we do esteem vain, which are either false or fri- 
 V olous, those which either have no truth, or no use: and 
 those persons we esteem vain, which are either credu- 
 lous or curious ; and curiosity is either in matter, or 
 words : so that in reason, as well as in experience, there 
 fall out to be these three distempers, as I may term 
 them, of learning:' xhc first, fantastical Icanujig ; the 
 
 < second, contentious le(iri|twg°5'itnd the "last, del icate _ 
 learning; vain imaginations, vain altercations, and vam 
 affectations; and witli_ the last I will begin. 
 ^ C^' Martin Luther, conducted no doubt by an higher 
 
 ^rovideiice,n[iifl:~ln discourse of reason, finding what 
 a province he had undertaken against the bisliop of 
 Rome, and the degenerate traditions of the church, 
 and finding his own solitude being no ways aided 
 by the opinions of liis own time, was enforced to 
 awake all antiquity, and to (?all former times to his 
 succour, to make a party ngainst tlic present time. 
 So that the ancient authors, both in divinity, and in 
 humanity, which had long time slept in libraries, began
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 47 
 
 generally to be read and revolved. This by consequence 
 did draw on a necessity of a more exquisite travel in 
 the languages original, wherein those authors did write : 
 for the better understanding of tliosc authors, and the 
 better advantage of pressing and applying their words. 
 And thereof grew again a delight in tlieir manner and 
 style of phrase, and an admiration of tliat kind of 
 writing; which was much furthered and precipitated by 
 the enmity and opposition, that the propoundersof thovse 
 primitive, but seeming new, opinions had against the 
 schoolmen, who were generally of the contrary part, 
 and whose writings were altogether in a differing style 
 and form ; taking liberty to coin, and frame new terms 
 of art to express their own sense, and to avoid circuit 
 of speech, without regard to the pureness, pleasant- 
 ness, and, as I may call it, lawfulness of the phrase 
 or word. And again, because the great labour then 
 was with the people, of whom the Pharisees were wont 
 to say, " Execrabilis ista turba, qux non novit 
 legem ; " for the winning and jjersuading of them, 
 there grew of necessity in chief price and request, 
 eloquence and variety of discourse, as the fittest and 
 forciblest access into the capacity of the vulgar sort : 
 so that these four causes concurring, the admiration 
 of ancient authors, the hate of the scHoolmen, the 
 exact"study of llmguages, and the eflicacy of preach- 
 ing, did bring in an affectionate study of eloquence, 
 and'Wpia of speech, which then began to flourisli. 
 This grew speedily to an excess ; for men began to 
 hunt more after words than matter ; and more after 
 the choiceness of the phrase, and the round and 
 clean composition of the sentence, and the sweet falling 
 of the clauses, and the varying and illustration of 
 their works with tropes and figures, than after the 
 weight of matter, worth of subject, soundness of 
 argument, life of invention, or depth of judgment. 
 Then grew the flowing and watery vein of Osorius, 
 the Portugal bishop, to be in price. Then did Stur- 
 mius spend such infinite and curious pains upon 
 Cicero the orator, and Hermogenes the rhetorician, 
 besides his own books of periods, and imitation, and
 
 ADVANCEMEMT OF LEAKNING. [Book I. 
 
 the like. Then did Car of Cambridge, and Aschara, 
 M^ith their lectures and writings, almost deify Cicero 
 and Demosthenes, and allure all young men, that 
 were studious, unto that delicate and polished kind of 
 leamins'. Then did Erasmus take occasion to make 
 the scoffing echo ; " Decern annos consumpsi in le- 
 gendo Cicerone : " and the echo answered in Greek, 
 " Oi/f, Asine. Then grew the learning of the schoolmen 
 to be utterly despised as barbarous, Iii^suni, the 
 whole -ineliiiatioii aiid-'bent-of - those .tiuifis.ma&j:atlier 
 towards co/;za, than weiglit.. 
 
 Here therefore is the first dbteniper of leari^ing, 
 when meixj^tiwly-words, and not majy^er: whereof 
 though I have represented an example of late times, 
 yet it hath been, and will be secutidum majus et minus 
 in all time. And how is it possible but this should 
 have an operation to discredit learning, even with 
 vulgar capacities, when they see learned mens works 
 like the first letter of a patent, or limned book ; which 
 though it hath large flourishes, yet it is but a letter ? 
 It seems to me that Pygmalion's frenzy is a good em- 
 blem or portraiture of this vanity : for words are but 
 the images of matter, and except they have life 
 of reason and invention, to fall in love with them is 
 all one as to fall in love with a pictiu'e. 
 
 But yet, notwithstanding, it is a thing not hastily 
 to be condemned, to clothe and adorn the obscurity, 
 even of philosophy itself, with sensible and plausible 
 elocution. For hereof we have great examples in 
 Xenophon, Cicero, 8eneca, Plutarch, and of Plato 
 also in some degree; and hereof likewise there is 
 great use : for surely, to the severe inquisition of 
 truth, and the deep progress into philosophy, it is 
 some hindrance ; because it is too early satisfactory 
 to the mind of man, and qucncheth tlie desire of 
 farther. searcli, before we come to a just period: 
 but then, if a man be to have any use of such know- 
 ledge in civil occasions, of conference, counsel, per- 
 suasion, discourse, or the like ; then shall he find it 
 prepared to his hands in those autliors whicli write 
 in tliat manner. But the excess of this is so justly 
 
 I
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF I.EAIINING. 29 
 
 contcinptiblc, that as Hercules, when he saw the 
 image of Adonis, Vcnns's minion, in a temple, said 
 in disdain, " Nil sacri es ;" so there is none of Her- 
 cules's followers in learning, that is, the more severe 
 and laborious sort of inquirers into truth, but will de- 
 spise those delicacies and affectations, as indeed capa- 
 ble of no divineness. And thus much of the first dis- 
 ease or distemper of learning. 
 
 The second, which followeth, is in nature worse / *>,) 
 than the former : for as substance of matter is better 
 than beauty of words, so, contrariwise, XQinmatte^ 
 is wsr§£jtoL,.Xaift^^;jQj:ils ; wherein it seemetlT the 
 reprehension of St. Paul was not only proper for 
 those times, but prophetical for the times following ; 
 and not only respective to divinity, but extensive to 
 all knowledge : " Devita profanas vocum novitates, et 
 oppositiones falsi nominis scientiflD." For he assignetli 
 two marks and badges of suspected and falsified 
 science: the one, the novelty and strangeness of 
 terms ; the other, the strictness of positions, which 
 of necessity doth induce oppositions, and so questions 
 and altercations. Surely, like as many substances in 
 nature which are solid, do putrify and corrupt into 
 worms ; so it is the propriety of good and sound 
 knowledge, to putrify and dissolve into a number of 
 subtle, idle, unwholesome, and, as I may term them, 
 vermiculate questions, which have indeed a kind of 
 quickness, and life of spirit, but no soundness of 
 matter, or goodness of quality. This kind of dege- \ 
 nerate learning did chiefly reigu amongst the schodh r 
 men, who, having sharp and strong wits, and abun- j 
 dance of leisure, and small variety of reading ; but 
 their wits being shut up in the cells of a few authors, 
 chiefly Aristotle their dictator, as their persons were 
 shut up in the cells of monasteries and colleges, and i 
 knowing little history, either of nature or time, did, ' 
 out of no great quantity of matter, and infinite agi- 
 tation of wit, spin out unto us those laborious webs of 
 learning, which are extant in their books. For the 
 wit and mind of man, if it work upon matter, which 
 is the contemplation of the creatures of God, worketh
 
 30 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 according to the stuff, and is limited thereby : but if 
 it work upon itself, as the spider worketh his web, 
 tlien it is endless, and brings forth indeed cobwebs of 
 learning, admirable for the fineness of thread and 
 work, but of no substance or profit. 
 
 This same unprofitable subtility or curiosity is of 
 two sorts; either in the subject itself that tlicy han- 
 dle, when it is fruitless speculation, or controversy, 
 whereof there are no small number both in divinity 
 and philosophy ; or in the manner or method of hand- 
 ling of a knowledge, which amongst them was this ; 
 upon every particular position or assertion to frame 
 objections, and to those objections, solutions ; which 
 solutions were for the most part not confutations, 
 but distinctions : whereas indeed the strengtli of all 
 sciences is, as the strength of the old man's faggot, 
 in the band. For the harmony of a science, support- 
 ing each part the other, is and ouglit to be the true 
 and brief confutation and supj)ression of all the 
 smaller sort of objections. But, on the other side, 
 if you take out every axiom, as the sticks of the 
 faggot, one by one, you may quarrel with them, and 
 bend them, and break them at your pleasure : so that 
 as was said of Seneca, " Verborum minutiis rerum 
 frangit pondera ; " so a man may truly say of the 
 schoolmen, " Quaestionum minutiis scientiaruni fran- 
 gunt soiiditatem." For were it not better for a man 
 in a fair room, to set up one great light, or branching 
 candlestick of lights, than to go about with a small 
 watch candle into every corner ? And such Jji.Jjb£ir 
 method, that rests not so much upon evidence of truth 
 proved by arguments, authorities, similitudes, exam- 
 ples, as upon particular confutations and solutions of 
 every scruple, cavillation, and objection ; breeding for 
 the most part one question, as fast as it solvetli an- 
 other ; even as in the former resemblance, when you 
 carry tlie light into one corner, you darken the rest : 
 so that the fable and fiction of Scylla seemeth to be a 
 lively image of this kind of pliilosopliy or knowledge, 
 whicli was transformed into a comely virgin for the 
 upper parts ; but then, '* Candida succinctam latranr
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 31 
 
 tibiis inguina moiistris : " so tlic generalities of the 
 schoolmen arc for a wliilc good and proportionable ; 
 but then, when you descend into their distinctions 
 and decisions, instead of a fruitful womb, for the use 
 and benefit of man's life, they end in monstrous alter- 
 cations, and barking questions. So as it is not possi- 
 ble but this quality of knowledge must fall under 
 popular contempt, the people being apt to contemn 
 truth upon occasion of controversies and altercations, 
 and to think they arc all out of their way which 
 never meet : and wjien they see such digladiatiou 
 about subtilties, and matters of no use or moment, 
 they easily fall upon that judgment of Dionysius of 
 Syracusae, " Verba ista sunt senum otiosorum." 
 
 Notwithstanding, certain it is, that if those school- 
 men, to their great thirst of truth, and unwearied 
 travel of wit, had joined variety and universality of 
 reading and contemplation, they had proved excel- 
 lent lights, to the great advancement of all learning 
 and knowledge ; but as they are, they are great un- 
 dertakers indeed, and fierce. wijdi dark kcepii^^ But as 
 in the inquiry of the divine truth, their pride inclined 
 to leave the oracle of God*s word, and to vanish in the 
 mixture of their own inventions ; so in the inquisition 
 of nature, they ever left the oracle of God's works, 
 and adored the deceiving and deformed images, which " 
 the unequal mirror of their own minds, or a few re- 
 ceived authors or principles, did reiiresent unto them. 
 And thus much for the second disease of learning. 
 
 For the third vice or disease of learning, Avliidi (jA 
 conQcrneth deceit or untruth, it is of all_the_rest the 
 foulest ; as that which doth destroy the essentiaf mrm 
 of knowledge ; which is nothing but a representation 
 of truth ; for the truth of being, and the truth of 
 knowing are one, differing no more than the direct 
 beam, and the beam reflected. This vice therefore 
 brancheth itself into two sorts ; delight in deceiving, 
 aud„ aptness to be deceived ; imposture aiicT crediiirfy; 
 which, although they appear to be of a diverse nature, 
 the one seeming to proceed of cunning, and the other
 
 32 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 of simplicity ; yet certainly they do for the most part 
 concur : for as the verse noteth, 
 
 " Percontatoreiu fagito, nam garrulus idem est: " 
 an inquisitive man is a prattler : so upon the like 
 reason, a credulous man is a deceiver: as vve see it in 
 fame, that he_JliatwiU. easily believe rumours^ will 
 as easily augment rumours, and add somewhat to 
 them bi his own ; which Tacitus wisely noteth, when 
 he saith, " Fingunt simul creduutque : " so great an 
 affinity hath fiction and belief. 
 
 Tiiis facility of. credit, and accepting or admitting 
 things weakly authorized or warranted, is of two 
 kinds, according to the subject : for it is either aTBe- 
 lief of history, or, as the lawyers speak,, matter of fact ; 
 or else of matter of art and opinion : as to the^rmcr, 
 we see the experience and inconvenience of tins error 
 in ecclesiastical history, which hath too easily receivecl 
 and registered reports and narrations of mhraclcs 
 wrought by martyrs, hermits, or monks of the desert, 
 and other holy men, and their relicks, shrines, chapels, 
 and images ; which though they had a passage for a 
 time, by the ignorance of the people, the superstitious 
 simplicity of some, and the politic toleration of others, 
 holding them but as divine poesies : yet after a period 
 of time, when the mist began to clear up, they grew 
 to be esteemed but as old wives fables, impostures of 
 the clergy, illusions of spirits, and badges of anti- 
 christ, to the great scandal and detriment of religion. 
 
 So in natural history, we see there hath not been 
 thatf clioice and judgment used as ought to have been, 
 as may appear in the writings of Plinius, Cardanus, 
 Albertus, and divers of the Arabians, being fraught 
 with much fabulous matter, a great part not only 
 untried, but notoriously untrue, to the great deroga- 
 tion of the credit of natural philosophy with the grave 
 and sober kind of wits : wherein the wisdom and 
 integrity of Aristotle is worthy to be observed, that, 
 having made so diligent and exquisite a history of 
 living creatures, hath mingled it sparingly with any 
 vain or feigned matter ; and yet, on the other side.
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF I,EARNING. 33 
 
 hath cast all prciligious narrations, which he thought 
 worthy the recording, into one hook : excellently 
 discerning that matter of manifest trnth, such where- 
 upon ohservation and rule was to be built, was not to 
 be mingled or weakened with matter of doubtful 
 credit ; and yet again, that rarities and reports, that 
 seem incredible, are not to be suppressed or denied to 
 the memory of men. 
 
 An.djis for the Jfacility of credit which is yielded to 
 arts and opinions, it is likewise of two kinds, eitlier 
 whcii too much belief is attributed to the arts them-" 
 selves, or to certain aiithors in any art. The sciences 
 themselves, which have had better intelligence and 
 confederacy with the imagination of man, than with 
 his reason, are three in number : astrology, natural 
 magic, and alchemy ; of which sciences, nevertheless, 
 the ends or pretences are noble. For astrology pre- 
 tendeth to discover that correspondence, or concate- 
 nation, which is between the superior globe and the 
 inferior. Natural magic pretendeth to call and reduce 
 natural philosophy from variety of speculations to the 
 magnitude of works ; and alchemy pretendeth to 
 make separation of all the unlike parts of bodies, 
 which in mixtures of nature are incorporate. But the 
 derivations and prosecutions to these ends, both in the 
 theories and in the practices, are full of error and 
 vanity ; which the great professors themselves have 
 sought to veil over and conceal by enigmatical wri- 
 tings, and referring themselves to auricular traditions 
 and such other devices, to save the credit of impostors: 
 and yet surely to alchemy this right is due, that it 
 may be compared to the husbandman whereof ^sop 
 makes the fable ; that, when he died, told his sons, 
 that he had left unto them gold buried under ground 
 in his vineyard ; and they digged over all the ground, 
 and gold they found none ; but by reason of their 
 stirring and digging the mould about the roots of 
 their vines, they had a great vintage the year follow- 
 ing : so assuredly the search and stir to make gold 
 hath brought to light a great number of good 
 and fruitful inventions and experiments, as well
 
 34 ADVANCEMENT OP LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 for the disclosing of nature, as for the use of man's 
 life. 
 
 And as for the overmuch credit that hath, .been 
 given unto authors in sciences, injnaking them dic- 
 tatOfsr that their words should stand ; and not con- 
 suls'tb' give advice; the damage is infinite that sci- 
 ences have received thereby, as the principal cause 
 that hath kept them low, at a stay, without growth 
 or advancement. For hence it hath come, that in 
 arts mechanical, the first deviser comes shortest, and 
 time addeth and perfecteth : but in sciences, the first 
 author goeth farthest, and time loseth and corruptetli. 
 So we see, artillery, sailing, printing, and the like, 
 were grossly managed at the first, and by time ac- 
 commodated and refined : but contrariwise the philo- 
 sophies and sciences of Aristotle, Plato, Democritus, 
 Hippocrates, Euclides, Archimedes, of most vigour at 
 the first, and by time degenerate and embased ; 
 whereof the reason is no other, but that in the former 
 many wits and industries have contributed in one ; 
 and in the latter, many wits and industries have been 
 spent about the wit of some one, whom many times 
 they have rather depraved than illustrated. For as 
 water will not ascend higher than the level of the 
 first spring-head from whence it descendeth, so know- 
 ledge derived from Aristotle, and exempted from 
 liberty of examination, will not rise again higher than 
 the knowledge of Aristotle. And therefore, although 
 the position be good, " Oportet discentem credere ; " 
 yet it must be coupled with this, " Oportet edoctum 
 judicare : " for^djscijilcs, do o^vc iiuto masters only a 
 temporary belief, and a suspension of their own judg- 
 ment till they be fidly instructed, and not an absolute 
 resignation, or perpetual captivity : and, therefore, to 
 conclude this point, I will say no more ; but so let 
 great authors have their due, as time, which is the 
 author of authors, be not deprived of his due, which 
 is, farther and farther to discover truth. Thu s I have 
 gone over these three diseases of learning ; besides 
 the which, there are some other rather peccant -hu- 
 mours than formed diseases, which nevertheless are
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 35 
 
 not so secret and intrinsic, but that they fall under a 
 popular observation and traducement, and therefore 
 are not to be passed over. 
 
 The first of these is the extreme aifectixjg^of two J 
 extremitics"r tlicJcHie antiquity, the other novelty-; 
 wherein it seemcth the children of time do take after 
 the nature and malice of the father. For as he de- 
 voureth his children, so one of them seeketh to de- 
 vour and suppress the other, while antiquity envieth 
 there should be new additions, and novelty cannot 
 be content to add, but it must deface ; surely, the 
 advice of the prophet is the true direction in this mat- 
 ter, " State super vias antiquas, et videte quaenam 
 sit via recta et bona, et ambulate in ea." Antiquity 
 deserveth that reverence, that men should make a 
 staiTdr^hereupon, and discover what is the best way ; 
 but when the'discovery is well taken, then to make 
 progression. And to speak truly, " Antiquitas seculi, 
 juventus mundi." These times are the ancient times, 
 when the v/orld is ancient, and not those which we 
 account ancient ordine retrogrado, by a computa- 
 tion backward from ourselves. 
 
 Another error, induced by the former, is j. distrust 
 that any thing should be now to be found out, which 
 the world should have missed and passed over so long 
 time ; as if the same objection were to be made to 
 time, that Lucian maketh to Jupiter and other the 
 heathen gods, of which he wondereth, that they begot 
 so many children in old time, and begot none in his 
 time ; and asketh, whether they were become septua- 
 genary, or whether the law Papia, made against old 
 mens marriages, had restrained them. So it seemeth 
 men doubt, lest time is become past children and 
 generation ; wherein, contrariwise, we see commonly 
 the levity and unconstancy of mens judgments, 
 which, till a matter be done, wonder that it can be 
 done ; and, as soon as it is done, wonder again that 
 it was no sooner done ; as we see in the expedition of 
 Alexander into Asia, which at first was prejudged as 
 a vast and impossible enterprise : and yet afterwards 
 it pleaseth Livy to make no more of it than this ; 
 ** Nil aliud. quam bene ausus est vana contemnere : "
 
 36 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNIKG. [Book L 
 
 and the same happened to Columbus in the western 
 navigation. But in intellectual matters, it is much 
 more common ; as may be seen in most of the proposi- 
 tions of Euclid, which till they be demonstrated, they 
 seem strange to our assent ; but being demonstrated, 
 our mind accepteth of them by a kind of relation, as 
 the lawyers speak, as if we had known them 
 before. 
 
 Another error that hath also some affinity with the 
 former, is a conceit, that of former opinions or sects, 
 after variety and examinatToai7^ffieBi&tliath still pre- 
 vailed^^ and suppressed the rest: so as, if a man shoTild 
 begin the labour of a new search, he were but like to 
 light upon somewhat formerly rejected, and by rejec- 
 tion brought into oblivion ; as if the multitude, or the 
 wisest, for the multitude's sake, were not ready to give 
 passage, rather to that which is popular and superfi- 
 cial, than to that which is substantial and profound : 
 for the truth is, that time seemeth to be of the nature 
 of a river or stream, which carrieth down to us that 
 which is light and blown up, and sinketh and drown- 
 eth that which is weighty and solid. 
 
 Another error, of a diverse nature from all the 
 former, is the over-ear|y and peremptory reduction 
 of knowk.dg£^«i»~ai'tsa»d- methods ; from which 
 time commonly sciences receive small or no augmen- 
 tation. But as young men, when they knit and 
 shape perfectly, do seldom grow to a farther stature : 
 so knowledge, while it is in aphorisms and observa- 
 tions, it is in growth ; but when it once is compre- 
 hended in exact methods, it may perchance be farther 
 polished and illustrated, and accommodated for use 
 and practice ; but it increaseth no more in bulk and 
 substance. 
 
 * Another error which doth succeed tliat which we 
 last mentioned, is, that after the distribution of par- 
 ticular arts and sciences, men have abandoned univer- 
 sality, or /?/«i/o*o/)///^ /;rmz«; which cannot but cease, 
 and stop all progression. For no perfect discovery 
 can be made upon a Hat or a level : neither is it 
 possible to discover the more remote, and deeper 
 parts of any science, if you stand but upon the level
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF I-EARNING. 37 
 
 of the same science, and ascend not to a higher 
 science. 
 
 Another error hat]i proceeded from too great a 
 reverence, and a kind of adoration of the mind and 
 understanding of man : by means whereof, men have 
 withdrawn themselves too much from the contem- 
 plation of nature, and the observations of experience, 
 and have tumbled up and down in their own reason 
 andj, conceits, U'pon these intcllectualists, which are, 
 notwithstanding, commonly taken for the most sub- 
 lime and divine philosophers, Hcraclitus gave a just 
 censure, saying, " INIen sought truth in their own 
 little worlds, and not in the great and common 
 world ;" for they disdain to spell, and so by de- 
 grees to read in the volume of God's works ; and con- 
 trariwise, by continual meditation and agitation of 
 wit, do urge and as it were invocate their own spirits 
 to divine, and give oracles unto them, whereby they 
 are deservedly deluded. 
 
 Another error that hath some connexion with this 
 latter, is, that_mexiJl5tYe_usedJio infect theirjnedita- 
 tions^ opinions, and doctrines, with some conceits 
 which tlicy have most admired, or .some scieiaces 
 which,j;heyjiav.e most applied; and given all things 
 else a tincture according to them, utterly untrue and 
 unproper. So hath Plato intermingled his philosophy 
 with theology, and Aristotle with logic ; and the 
 second school of Plato, Proclus, and the rest, with 
 the mathematics. For these were the arts which had 
 a kind of primogeniture with them severally. So 
 have the alchemists made a philosophy out of a few 
 experiments of the furnace; and Gilbertus, our 
 countryman, hath made a philosophy out of the 
 observations of a loadstone. So Cicero, when, re- 
 citing the several opinions of the nature of the soul, 
 he found a musician, that held the soul was but a 
 harmony, saith pleasantly, " Hie ab arte sua non re- 
 cessit," etc. But of these conceits Aristotle speaketh 
 seriously and wisely, when he saith, " Qui respiciunt 
 ad pauca, de facili pronuntiant." 
 
 Another error is. an impatience J3fdou,b,t»9Ad,h^ste^ 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
 4£G870
 
 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 to assertion without due and mature suspension of 
 judgment. For the two ways of contemphition are 
 not unlike the two ways of action, commonly spoken 
 of by the ancients : the one plain and smooth in the 
 beginning, and in the end impassable ; the other 
 rough and troublesome in the entrance, but after a 
 while fair and even: so it is in contemplation ; jf a 
 man. will be^in with certainties, he shall end in 
 doubts; but if he mil be content to begin with 
 doubts, he shall end in certainties. 
 
 Another error is in the manner of the tradition and 
 delivery of knowledge, which is for the most part 
 magistral and peremptory ; and not ingenuous and 
 faithful, in a sort, as may be soonest believed, and 
 not easiliest examined. It is true, that in compen- 
 dious treatises for practice, that form is not to be dis- 
 allowed. But in the true handling of knowledge, 
 men ought not to fall eitlier, on the one side, into the 
 vein of Velleius the Epicurean: "Nil tam metuens, 
 quam ne dubitare aliqua de re videretur:" nor, on the 
 other side, into Socrates his ironical doubting of all 
 things ; but to propound things sincerely, with more 
 or less asseveration, as they stand in a man's own 
 judgment proved more or less. 
 
 Other errors there are in the scope that men pro- 
 pound to themselves, whcreunto they bend their en- 
 deavours : for whereas the more constant and devote 
 kind of professors of any science ought to propound to 
 themselves to make some additions to their science ; 
 they convert their labours to aspire to certain second 
 prizes ; as to be a profound interpreter, or commenta- 
 tor ; to be a sharp champion or defender ; to be a 
 methodical compounder or abridger ; and so the patri- 
 mony of knowledge cometh to be sometimes improved, 
 but seldom augmented. 
 I But the gi'catcst error of all the reslj is tj^ o mist ake 
 f ing or misjiTacing o? tlie last or farthest end of know- 
 I ledge : for men have entered into a desire of learning 
 and knowledge, sometimes upon a iiatitTatTTTriosity, 
 and inquisitive appetite ; sometimes to enteftam their 
 minds with variety and delight ; sometimes for orna-
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 30 
 
 ment and reputation ; and sometimes to enable them 
 to victory of wit and contradiction ; and most times 
 for lucre and profession ; and seldom sincerely to give 
 a true account of their gift of reason, to the benefit 
 and use of men : as if there were sought in knowledge 
 a couch, whereupon to rest a searching and restless 
 spirit ; or a terras, for a wandering and variable mind 
 to walk up and down with a fair jirospect ; or a tower 
 of state, for a proud mind to raise itself upon ; or a 
 fort or commanding ground, for strife and contention ; 
 or a shop, for profit, or sale ; and not a rich storehouse, 
 for the glory of tlie Creator, and the relief of man's 
 estate. But this is that which will indeed dignify 
 and exalt knowledge, if contemplation and action may 
 be more nearly and straitly conjoined and united to- 
 gether than they have been ; a conjunction like unto 
 that of the two highest planets, Saturn, the planet of 
 rest and contemjilation, and Jupiter, the planet of 
 civil society and action. Howbeit, I do not mean, 
 when I speak of use and action, that end before-men- 
 tioned of the applying of knowledge to lucre and 
 profession ; for I am not ignorant how much that 
 diverteth and interrupteth the prosecution and ad- 
 vancement of knowledge, like unto the golden ball 
 thrown before Atalanta, which while she goeth aside 
 and stoopeth to take up, the race is hindered ; 
 Declinat cursus, aurumque volubile toUit. 
 Neither is my meaning, as was spoken of Socrates, 
 to call philosophy down from heaven to converse upon 
 the earth ; that is, to leave natural philosophy aside, 
 and to apply knowledge only to manners and policy. 
 £7 But as both heaven and earth do conspire and contri- 
 bute to the use and benefit of man ; so the end ought j 
 to be, from both philosophies to separate and reject n^ 
 vain speculations, and whatsoever is empty and void,; "" 
 
 and to preserve and augment whatsoever is solid and \ 
 fruitful : that knowledge may not be, as a courtesan, ' j 
 for pleasure and vanity only, or, as a bond- woman, to 1 1 
 acquire and gain to her master's use ; but».55-a spouse, I. » 
 for^generation, fruit, and comfort. 7 
 
 Thus have TdescrTHed and opened, as by a kind ol" 
 n 2
 
 40 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 dissection, those peccant humours, the principal of 
 them, which have not only given impediment to the 
 proficience of learning, but have given also occasion 
 to the traducement thereof: wherein if I have been 
 too plain, it must be remembered, " Fidelia vulnera 
 amantis, sed dolosa oscula malignantis." 
 
 This, I think, I have gained, that I ought to be 
 the better believed in that which I shall say pertain- 
 ing to commendation ; because I have proceeded so 
 freely in that which concerueth censure. And yet I 
 have no purpose to enter into a laudative of learning, 
 or to make a hymn to the JMuses, though I am 
 of opinion that it is long since their rites were duly 
 celebrated : but my intent is, without varnish or am- 
 plification, justly to weigh the dignity of knowledge 
 in the balance with'otlier things, and to take tlie l;rue 
 value thereof by testimoiiies and arguments divine 
 and human. 
 
 First therefore, let us seek the_di^iityofknow- 
 "w^ ledg^e in the archetype or first^^Iatibrra, ""wEEi^' is 
 the attributes and acts of God, as far as they are 
 revealed to man, and may be observed with sobriety ; 
 wherein we may not seek it by the name of learning; 
 for all learning is knowledge acquired, and all know- 
 ledge in God is original ; and therefore we must look 
 for it by another name, that of wisdom or sapience, 
 as the Scriptures call it. 
 
 It is so then, that in the work of the creatioiijve 
 see a double emanation of virtue from God ; the one 
 referring more properly to power, the other to wis- 
 dom ; the one expressed in making the subsistence of 
 the matter, and the other in disposing the beauty of 
 the form. This being supposed, it is to be observed, 
 that, for any thing which appeareth in the history of 
 the creation, the confused mass and matter of heaven 
 and earth was made in a moment ; and the order and 
 disposition of that chaos, or mass, was the work of six 
 days ; such a note of difference it pleased God to put 
 upon the works of power, and the works of wisdom : 
 wherewith concurreth, that in the former it is not set
 
 Book I.J ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 41 
 
 down that God said, " Let there be heaven and 
 earth," as it is set down of the works following ; but 
 actually, that God made heaven and earth : the one 
 carrying the stile of a manufacture, and the other of 
 a law, decree, or council. 
 
 To proceed to that which is next in order, from 
 God^o^ spirits. We find, as far as credit is to be 
 given to the celestial hierarchy of that supposed 
 Dionysius the senator of Athens, the first place or 
 degree is given to the angels of love, which are termed 
 Seraphim ; the second to the angels of light, which 
 are termed Cherubim ; and the third, and so follow- 
 ing places, to thrones, principalities, and the rest, ^ 
 which are all angels of power and ministry ; so as the Ua^ '>■$■■■ 
 angels of knowledge and illumination are placed 
 before the angels of office and domination. 
 
 To descend from spirits and intellectual forms to 
 sensible and material forms ; we read the first form 
 that was created was light, which hath a relation and 
 correspondence in nature and corporal things to know- 
 ledge in spirits and in corporal things. 
 
 80 in the distribution of days, we see, the day 
 wherein God did rest, and contemplate his own works, 
 was blessed above all the days wherein he did effect 
 and accomplish them. 
 
 After the creation was finished, it is set down unto 
 us, that man was placed in the garden to woric 
 therein ;. which work, so appointed to him, could be 
 no other than work of contemplation; that is, when 
 the end of the work is but for exercise and experiment, 
 not for necessity ; for there being then no reluctation 
 of the creature, nor sweat of the brow, man's employ- 
 ment must of consequence have been matter of delight 
 in the experiment, and not matter of labour for the 
 use. Again, the first acts which man performed in 
 paradise, consisted of the two summary parts of know- 
 ledge ; the view of creatures, and the imposition of 
 names. As foiL the knowledge wliicli induced the 
 fall, it was, as was toud[ie€l before, not the natural 
 knowledge of creatures but the moral kiiowiedge of
 
 42 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 good and evil^- wherein the supposition was, that 
 God's commandments or prohibitions were not the 
 originals of good and evil, but that they had other 
 beginnings, which man aspired to know, to the end 
 to make a total defection from God, and to depend 
 wholly upon himself. 
 
 To pass on : in the first event or occurrence after 
 the fall of man, we see, as the Scriptures have infinite 
 mysteries, not violating at all the truth of the 
 story or letter, an image of the two estates, the con- 
 templative state, and the active state, figured in the 
 two persons of Abel and Cain, and in the two sim- 
 plest and most primitive trades of life, that of the 
 shepherd, who, by reason of his leisure, rest in a place, 
 and living in view of heaven, is a lively image of a 
 .contemplative life ; and that of the husbandman ; 
 where we see again, the favour and election of God 
 went to the shepherd, and not to the tiller of the 
 ground. 
 
 So in the age before the flood, the holy records 
 within those few^meinorials, which are there entered 
 and registered, have vouchsafed to mention, and ho- 
 nour the name of the inventors and authors of music, 
 and works in metal. In the age after the flood, the 
 first great judgment of God upon the ambition of man 
 was the confusion of tongues ; whereby the open trade 
 and intercourse of learning and knowledge was chiefly 
 imbarred. 
 
 To descend to Moses the lawgiver, and God's first 
 pen : he is adornectl5y*^e Scriptures with this addi- 
 tion and commendation, that he was " s aen in a ll the 
 leaming of tlie TRgyptians ; " whicli nation, weknow, 
 was oiie of the most ancient scliools of the world: 
 for so Plato brings in tlie i^.gyptian priest saying 
 unto Solon, " You (irecians are ever children ; you 
 have no knowledge of antiquity, nor antiquity of 
 knowledge." Take a view of the ceremonial law 
 of Moses ; you shall find, besides the prcfiguration 
 of Ghrist, the badge or difference of the people of 
 God, the exercise and impression ol" obedience, and
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 
 
 other divine uses and fruits thereof, that some of the 
 most learned Rabbins have travelled profitably, and 
 profoundly to observe, some of them a natural, some 
 of them a moral sense, or reduction of many of the 
 ceremonies and ordinances. As in the law of the 
 leprosy, where it is said, " If the whiteness have over- 
 spread the flesh, the patient may pass abroad for 
 clean ; but if there be any whole flesh remaining, he 
 is to be shut up for imclean : " one of them noteth a 
 principle of nature, that putrefaction is more conta- 
 gious before maturity, than after : and another noteth 
 a position of moral philosophy, that men, abandoned to 
 vice, do not so much corrupt manners, as those that are 
 half good and half evil. So in this, and very many 
 other places in that law, there is to be found, besides 
 the theological sense, much aspersion of philosophy. 
 
 So likewise in that excellent book of Job, if it be 
 revolved^mjEli (Tiligence, it will be foumT pregnant, and 
 swelling with^nat.UKll philosophy; as for example, 
 cosmograpliy, and the roundness of tlie world : " Qui 
 extendit aquilonem super vacuum, et appendit terrain 
 super nihilum ; " wherein the pensileness of the earth, 
 the pole of the north, and the finiteness or convexity 
 of heaven are manifestly touched. So again, matter 
 of [istronomy; *' Spiritus ejus ornavit coelos, et ob- 
 stetricante manu ejus eductus est Coluber tortuosus." 
 And in another place ; " Nimquid conjungere valebis 
 micantes stellas Pleiadas, aut gyrum Arcturi poteris 
 dissipare ? " Where the fixing of the stars, ever stand- 
 ing at equal distance, is with great elegancy noted. 
 And in another place ; " Qui facit Arcturum, et 
 Oriona, et Hyadas, et interiora Austri ; " where again 
 he takes knowledge of the depression of the southern 
 pole, calling it the secrets of the south, because the 
 southern stars were in that climate unseen. Matter 
 of generation, " Annoii sicut lac mulsisti me, et sicut 
 caseum coagulasti me," etc. Matter of minerals, 
 " Habet argentum venarum suarum principia : et auro 
 locus est in quo conflatur, ferrum de terra toUitur, et 
 lapis solutus calore in aes vertitur : " and so forwards 
 in that chapter.
 
 44 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 So likev^ise m.the person of Solomon tlie king, we 
 see the gift or endowment of wisdom and - learning, 
 both in Solomon's petition, and in God's assent there- 
 nnto, preferred before all other terrene and temporal 
 felicity. By virtue of which grant or donative of 
 God, Solomon became enabled, not only to write those 
 excellent parables, or aphorisms, concerning divine and 
 moral philosophy ; but alfjo to compile a natural history 
 of all verdure, from the cedar upon the mountain to 
 the moss upon the wall, which is but a rudiment 
 between putrefaction and an herb, and also of all 
 things that breathe or move. Nay, the same Solo- 
 mon the king, although he excelled in the glory of 
 treasure and magnificent buildings, of shipping and 
 navigation, of service and attendance, of fame and 
 renown ; and the like, yet he maketh no claim to any 
 of those glories, but only to the glory of inquisition 
 of truth ; for so he saith expressly, " The glory of 
 God is to conceal a thing, but the glory of the king is 
 to find it out ; " as if, according to the innocent play 
 of children, the Divine Majesty took delight to hide 
 his works, to the end to have them found out ; and 
 as if kings could not obtain a greater honour than to be 
 (xod's playfellows in that game, considering the great 
 commandment of wits and means, whereby nothing 
 ncedcth to be hidden from them. 
 
 Neither did the dispensation of God vary in the 
 times after our Saviour came into the world ; for our 
 Savjoiii- Irinisclf did first shew his power to subdue 
 ignorance, by his conference with the priests and doc- 
 tors of the law, before he shewed his power to sUbdiQe 
 , nature by his miracles^ And the coming of the Holy 
 Spirit was chiefly figured and expressed in the simili- 
 tude andgiftof tongues, which are hYxir chiculasciciitia'. 
 
 So in the election of those instruments, which it 
 pleased God to use for the plantation of the faith, 
 notwithstanding that at the first he did em])loy per- 
 sons altogether luilearned, otherwise than by inspira- 
 tion, more evidently to declare his immediate working, 
 and to abase all human wisdom or knowledge ; yet, 
 nevertheless, thai counsel of his was no sooner per-
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF I, EARNING. 45 
 
 formed, but in the next vicissitude and succession, 
 lie did send his divine tiutli into the world, waited 
 on with other learnings, as with servants or hand- 
 maids : for so we see St. Paul, who was only learned 
 amongst the apostles, ha^HTs" pcIT ffiosi iised in the 
 Scriptures of the New Testament. 
 
 So again, we find that many of the ancient bishops 
 and fathers of the Churcli were^'excellently read and 
 studied in all the learning of the heathen ; insomuch, 
 that the edict of the emperor Julianus, whereby it was 
 interdicted unto Christians to be admitted into schools, 
 lectures, or exercises of learning, was esteemed and 
 accounted a more pernicious engine and machination 
 against the Christian faith, than were all the sangui- 
 nary prosecutions of his predecessors ; neither could 
 the emulation and jealousy of Gregory, the first of 
 that name, bishop of Rome, ever obtain the oj)inion 
 of piety or devotion ; but contrariwise received the 
 censure of humour, malignity, and pusillanimity, even 
 amongst holy men ; in that he designed to obliterate 
 and extinguish the memory of heathen antiquity and 
 authors. But contrariwise it was the Christian Church, 
 which, amidst the inundations of the Scythians on the 
 one side from the north-west, and the Saracens from 
 the east, did preserve, in the sacred lap and bosom 
 thereof, the precious relicks even of heathen learning, 
 which otherwise had been extinguished, as if no such 
 thing had ever been. 
 
 And we see before our eyes, that in the age of our- 
 selves and our fathers, when it pleased God to call 
 the church of Rome to account for their degenerate 
 manners and ceremonies, and sundry doctrines obnox- 
 ious, and framed to uphold the same abuses ; at one 
 and the same time it was ordained by tlie divine pro- 
 vidence, that there should attend withal a renovation, 
 and new spring of all other knowledges : and, on the 
 other side, we see the Jesuits, who partly in themselves, 
 and partly by the enrutZITioir an cT provocation of their 
 example, liave mucli quickened and strengthened the 
 state of lcaruiiigT^'^c'"st^T f "'^Jij^" "^^'^^^^^ 
 and reparation they have done to the Roman see.
 
 46 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 Wherefore, to conclude this part, let it be observed, 
 that there be two prim^ipal 4litie§jya,d-5ei;Yice^^^ 
 oruameut and ilTustratioii, which philosophy and hu- 
 man learning do perform to faith. and religion. The 
 one, l)ecause they ajg^j^jglfectnaLiBdwcemeiJillQ the 
 (^V exaltation of the ^'loiy of Gojd.^ For as the Psalms 
 and other Scriptures do often invite us to consider, 
 and magnify the great and wonderful works of God : 
 so if we should rest only in the contemplation of the 
 exterior of them, as they first offer themselves to our 
 senses, we shoidd do a like injury unto the majesty 
 of God, as if we should judge or construe of the 
 store of some excellent jeweller, by that only which 
 is set out toward the street in his shop. The other, 
 ( • ; because they minister a singular help and preservative 
 ' ^ against unbelief and error; ibr our Saviour saitb, " You 
 err, not knowing the Scriptures, nor the power of God;" 
 laving before us two books or volumes to study, if we 
 will be secured from error ; first, the Scriptures, re- 
 vealing the will of God; and then the creatures, express- 
 ing his power : whereof the latter is a key unto the for- 
 mer : not only opening our vuulerstanding to conceive 
 the true sense of the Scriptiu'es, by the general notions 
 of reason and rules of speech ; but chiefly opening our 
 bchef, in drawing us into a due meditation of the omni- 
 potency of God, which is chiefly signed and engraven 
 upon his works. Thus much therefore for diviuej;cs- 
 timony and evidence, concerning the true dig»ifey-aBd 
 value of learning. 
 
 As tisL.^^^"^^^^ proofs, it is so large a field, as, in 
 a discourse of tliis nature and brevity, it is fit rather 
 to use choice of those tilings which we shall produce, 
 than to embrace the variety of them. First, there- 
 fore, in the degrees of human honour amongst the 
 heathen, it was the highest, to obtain to a veneration 
 and adoration as a God. This unto the Christians is 
 as the forbidden fruit. But we speak now separately 
 of human testimony ; according to wliich, tliat which 
 the Grecians call " apotheosis," and the Latins, " re- 
 latio inter divos," was the supreme honour which man 
 could attribute luito man; especially when it was given,
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT C3F LEARNING. 47 
 
 not by a formal decree or act of state, as it was used 
 among the Roman Emperors, but by an inward assent 
 and belief. AVhich honour being so high had also a 
 degree or middle term ; for there were reckoned above 
 human honours, honours heroical and divine : in the 
 attribution and distribution of which honours, we see, 
 antiquity made this difference : that whereas founders 
 and uniters of states and cities, lawgivers, extirpers of 
 tyrants, fathers of the people, and other eminent per- 
 sons in ci\il merit, were honoured but with the titles 
 of worthies or demigods, such as were Hercules, The- 
 seus, j\Iinos, Romulus, and the like : on the other 
 side, such as were inventors and autljors^of new .^t^ 
 endowments and commodities towards man's life^ were 
 ever consecrated amongst tlie gods themselves : as 
 we re"'Cere srT^acchus, i\rercurius, Apollo, and others ; 
 and~ justly : 1of"lhe iiici it of Theloraier is confined 
 within the circle of an age or a nation ; and is like 
 fruitful showers, which though they be profitable and 
 good, yet serve but for that season, and for a latitude 
 of ground where they fall ; but the other is indeed 
 like the benefits of heaven, which are permanent and 
 universal. The former, again, is mixed with strife 
 and perturbation ; but the latter hath the true cha- 
 racter of divine presence, coming in aura leni, with- 
 out noise or agitation. 
 
 Neither is certainly that other merit of learning, in 
 repressing the inconveniencies which grow from man 
 to man, much inferior to the former, of relieving the 
 necessities which arise from nature ; which merit was 
 lively set forth by the ancients in that feigned relation 
 of Orpheus's theatre, where all beasts and birds assem- 
 bled, and, forgetting their several appetites, some of 
 prey, some of game, some of quarrel, stood all socia- 
 bly together, listening to the airs and accords of the 
 harp ; the sound whereof no sooner ceased, or was 
 drowned by some louder noise, but every beast returned 
 to his own nature : wherein is aptly described the 
 nature and condition of men, wlio are full of savage 
 and unreclaimed desires of profit, of lust, of revenge ; 
 which as long as they give ear to precepts, to laws, to
 
 48 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 religion, sweetly touched with eloquence and persua- 
 sion of books, of sermons, of harangues, so long is 
 society and peace maintainerl ; butif these instruments 
 be silent, or that sedition and tumult make them 
 not audible, all things dissolve into anarchy and con- 
 fusion. 
 
 But this appeareth more manifestly, when kings 
 themselves, or persons of authority under them, or 
 other governors in commonwealths and popular estates, 
 are endued with learning. For although he might be 
 thought partial to his own profession, that said, 
 " Then should people and estates be happy, when 
 either kings were philosophers, or philosophers kings ; " 
 yet so much is verified by experience, that u nder wise 
 and learned princes and governors there hayiT)efiILexer, 
 the best times : for howsoever kings may have their 
 imperfection's" in their passions and customs ; yet if 
 they be illuminate by learning, they have those 
 notions of religion, policy, and morality, which do 
 preserve them ; and refrain them from all ruinous and 
 peremptory errors and excesses, whispering evermore 
 in their ears, when counsellors and servants stand 
 mute and silent. And senators, or counsellors like- 
 wise, which be learned, do proceed upon more safe 
 and substantial principles, than counsellors which are 
 only men of experience ; the one sort keeping dangers 
 afar off, whereas the other discover them not till they 
 come near hand, and then trust to the agility of their 
 wit to ward or avoid them. 
 
 Which felicity of times under learned princes, to 
 keep still the law of brevity, by using the most emi- 
 nent and selected examples, doth best appear in the 
 age which passed from the death of Domitianus the 
 emperor, until the reign of Commodus ; comprehend- 
 ing a succession of six princes, all learned, or singular 
 favourers and advancers of learning ; which age, 
 for temporal respects, was the most happy and flou- 
 rishing that ever the Roman empire, which then was 
 a model of the world, enjoyed ; a matter revealed and 
 prefigured unto Domitian in a dream the night 
 before he was slain ; for lie thought there was grown 
 
 I
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 49 
 
 behind upon his shoulders a neck and a head of gold : 
 which came accordingly to pass in those golden times 
 which succeeded ; of which princes we will make some 
 commemoration : wherein although the matter will 
 be vulgar, and may be thought fitter for a declama- 
 tion, than agreeable to a treatise enfolded as this is; yet 
 because it is pertinent to the point in hand, "neque sem- 
 per arcum tendit Apollo," and to name them only were 
 too naked and cursory, I will not omit it altogether. 
 
 The first was Nerva, the excellent temper of whose 
 government, is by a glance in Cornelius Tacitus touched 
 to the life : " Postquam divus Nerva res olim insocia- 
 biles miscuisset, imperium et libertatem." And in to- 
 ken of his learning, the last act of his short reign, left to 
 memory, was a missive to his adopted son Trajan, pro- 
 ceeding upon some inward discontent at the ingratitude 
 of the times, comprehended in a verse of Homer's. 
 Telis, Phoebe, tuis lacrymas ulciscere nostras. 
 
 Trajan, who succeeded, was for his person not 
 learned : but if we will hearken to the speech of our 
 Saviour, that saith, '•' He that receiveth a prophet in 
 the name of a prophet, shall have a prophet's reward," 
 he deserveth to be placed amongst the most learned 
 princes ; for there was not a greater admirer of learn- 
 ing, or benefactor of learning ; a founder of famous 
 libraries, a perpetual advancer of learned men to office, 
 and a familiar converser with learned professors and 
 preceptors, who were noted to have then most credit 
 in court. On the other side, how much Trajan's virtue 
 and government was admired and renowned, surely 
 no testimony of grave and faithful history doth more 
 lively set forth, than that legend tale of Gregorius 
 ]\Iagnus, bishop of Rome, who was noted for the 
 extreme envy he bore towards all heathen excellency ; 
 and yet he is reported, out of the love and estimation 
 of Trajan's moral virtues, to have made unto God 
 passionate and fervent prayers for the delivery of his 
 soul out of hell; and to have obtained it, with a caveat, 
 that he should make no more such petitions. In this 
 prince's time also, the persecutions against the Chris- 
 tians received intermission, upon the certificate of Pli-
 
 50 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 nius Secundus, a man of excellent learning, and by 
 Trajan advanced. 
 
 Adrian, his successor, was the most curious man 
 that lived, and the most universal inquirer ; insomuch 
 as it was noted for an error in his mind, that he de- 
 sired to comprehend all things, and not to reserve 
 himself for the worthiest things ; falling into the like 
 humour that was long before noted in Philip of Ma- 
 cedon, who, when he would needs over-rule and put 
 down an excellent musician, in an argument touching- 
 music, was well answered by him again, " God 
 forbid. Sir," saith he, " that your fortune should be 
 so bad, as to know these things better than I.** It 
 pleased God likewise to use the curiosity of this 
 emperor, as an inducement to the peace of his Churcli 
 in those days. For having Christ in veneration, not 
 as a God or Saviom*, but as a wonder or novelty ; 
 and having his picture in his gallery, matched with 
 Apollonius, with whom, in his vain imagination, he 
 thought he had some conformity, yet it served the 
 turn to allay the bitter hatred of those times against 
 the Christian name, so as the Church had peace 
 during his time. And for his government civil, 
 although he did not attain to that of Trajan's, 
 in the glory of arms, or perfection of justice ; yet in 
 deserving of the weal of the subject he did exceed him. 
 For Trajan erected many famous monuments and 
 buildings, insomuch as Constantine the Great in emu- 
 lation was wont to call him " Parietaria," wall-flower, 
 because his name was upon so many walls: but his build- 
 ings and works were more of glory and triumph than 
 use and necessity. But Adrian spent his whole reign, 
 which was peaceable, in a perambulation, or survey of 
 the Roman empire, giving order, and making as.signa- 
 tion where he went, for re-edifying of cities, towns, and 
 forts decayed, and for cutting of rivers and streams, 
 and for making bridges and passages, and for policy- 
 ing of cities and commonalties with new ordinances 
 and constitutions, and granting new franchises and 
 incorporations ; so that his whole time was a very re- 
 stauration of all the lapses and decavs of former times.
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 51 
 
 Antoninus Pius, vvlio succeeded him, was a prince 
 excellently learned ; and had the patient and subtle 
 wit of a schoolman ; insomuch as in common speech, 
 which leaves no virtue untaxed, he was called " Cymini 
 sector," a carver, or a divider of cumin seed, which is 
 one of the least seeds ; such a patience he had and 
 settled spirit, to enter into the least and most exact 
 differences of causes, a fruit no doubt of the exceed- 
 ing tranquillity and serenity of his mind ; which being 
 no ways charged or encumbered, either with fears, 
 remorses, or scruples, but having been noted for a 
 man of the purest goodness, without all fiction or affec- 
 tation, that hath reigned or lived, made his mind 
 continually present and entire. He likewise approached 
 a degree nearer unto Christianity, and became, as 
 Agrippa said unto St. Paul, " half a Christian ; " hold- 
 ing their religion and law in good opinion, and not only 
 ceasing persecution, but giving way to the advance- 
 ment of Christians. 
 
 There succeeded him the first divijratres, the two 
 adoptive brethren, Lucius Commodus Verus, son to 
 yf'lius Verus, who delighted much in the softer kind of 
 learning, and was wont to call the poet JMartial his 
 Virgil : and Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, whereof the 
 latter, who obscured his colleague, and survived him 
 long, was named the philosopher ; who, as he excelled 
 all the rest in learning, so he excelled them likewise 
 in perfection of all royal virtues ; insomuch as Julia- 
 nus the emperor, in his book, intitled " Cassares," being 
 as a pasquil or satire to deride all his predecessors, 
 feigned, that they were all invited to a banquet of the 
 gods, and Silenus the jester sat at the nether end of 
 the table, and bestowed a scoff on every one as they 
 came in ; but when Marcus Philosophus came in, 
 Silenus was gravelled, and out of countenance, not 
 knowing where to carp at him, save at the last he gave a 
 glance at his patience towards his wife. And the 
 virtue of this prince, continued with that of his pre- 
 decessor, made the name of Antoninus so sacred in 
 the world, that though it were extremely dishonoured 
 in Commodus, Caracalla, and Heliogabalus,who all bore
 
 52 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 the name ; yet when Alexander Severus refused the 
 name, because he was a stranger to the family, the 
 Senate with one acclamation said, " Quo modo Au- 
 gustus, sic et Antoninus." In such renown and vene- 
 ration was the name of these two princes in those days, 
 that they would have had it as a perpetual addition 
 in all the emperors stile. In this emperor's time also, 
 the Church for the most part was in peace ; so as in 
 this sequence of six princes, we do see the blessed 
 effects of learning in sovereignty, painted forth in the 
 greatest table of the world. 
 
 But for a tablet, or picture of smaller volume, not 
 presuming to speak of your majesty that liveth, in 
 my judgment, the most excellent is ,that of jg^ueen 
 Elizabeth, jour immediate predecessor in this part of 
 Bfitam ; a princess that if Plutarch were now alive 
 to write lives by parallels, would trouble him, I think, 
 to find for her a parallel amongst women. This lady 
 '^'' was eiidued with -learning in her sex siii^iTar,Hnd 
 rare even amongst masculine princes ; whether we 
 speak of learning of language, or of science, modern 
 or ancient, divinity or humanity : and unto the very 
 last year of her life, she accustomed to appoint set 
 hours for reading ; scarcely any young student in an 
 university, more daily, or more duly. As for her govern- 
 ment, I assure myself, I shall not exceed, if I do affirm, 
 that this part of the island never had forty-five years 
 of better times ; and yet not through the calmness of 
 the season, but through the wisdom of her regiment. 
 
 For if there be considered, of the one side, the 
 truth of religion established ; the constant peace and 
 security; the good administration of justice; the tem- 
 perate use of the prerogative, not slackened, nor much 
 strained ; the flourishing state of learning, sortable to 
 so excellent a patroness ; the convenient estate of 
 wealth and means, botli of crown and subject ; the 
 habit of obedience, and the moderation of discontents ; 
 and there be considered, on the other side, the differ- 
 ences of religion, the troubles of neighbour countries, 
 the ambition of Spain, and opposition of Rome : 
 and then, that she was solitary, and of herself: these
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF I.EARNlNCi. 53 
 
 things, I say, considered ; as I could not have chosen 
 an instance so recent and so proper, so, I suppose, I 
 could not have chosen one more remarkable, or emi- 
 nent, to the purpose now in hand, which is concern- 
 ing the conjunction of learning in the prince, with 
 felicity in the people. 
 
 Neither hath learning an influence and operationN 
 only upon civil merit and moral virtue, and the arts 
 or temperature of peace and peaceable government ; ( 
 but likewise it hath no less power and cilicacy in ' 
 enablcaaaiLjtfiAiaids^anartiaL aaid railitaiy -vklue,^ I 
 prowgss-;- .as may be notably represented in the exam- \ 
 pies of Alexander the great, and Cajsar the dictator, I 
 mentioned before, but now in fit place to be resumed; 
 of whose virtues and acts in war there needs no note 
 or recital, having been the wonders of time in that 
 kind : but of their affections towards learning, and 
 perfections in learning, it is pertinent to say somewhat. 
 
 Alexander was bred and taught under Aristotle 
 the great philosopher, who dedicated divers of his 
 boo£s of philosophy unto him : he was attended with 
 Callisthenes, and divers other learned persons, that 
 followed him in camp, throughout his journeys and 
 conquests. What price and estimation he had learn- 
 ing in, doth notably appear in these three particulars: 
 first, in the envy he used to express that he bore to- 
 wards Achilles, in this, that he had so good a trum- 
 pet of his praises as Homer's verses : secondly, in the 
 judgment or solution he gave touching that precious 
 cabinet of Darius, which was found amongst his jewels, 
 ■whereof question was made what thing was worthy to 
 be put into it, and he gave his opinion for Homer's 
 works : thirdly, in his letter to Aristotle, after he had 
 set forth his books of nature, wherein he expostulateth 
 with him for publishing the secrets or mysteries of 
 philosophy, and gave him to understand that himself 
 esteemed it more to excel other men in learning and 
 knowledge, than in power and empire. And what 
 use he had of learning doth appear, or rather shine, 
 in all his speeches and answers, being full of science 
 and use of science, and that in all variety. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 X 
 
 54 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 And here again it may seem a thing scholastical, 
 and somewhat idle, to recite things that every man 
 knoweth; but yet, since the argument I handle leadeth 
 me thereunto, I am glad that men shall perceive 1 am 
 as willing to flatter, if they will so call it, an Alexander, 
 or a Caesar, or an Antoninus, that are dead many 
 hundred years since, as any that now liveth : for it is 
 the displaying of the glory of learning in sovereignty 
 that J propound to myself, and not an humour of 
 declaiming any man's praises. Observe then the 
 speech he used of Diogenes, and see if it tend not to 
 the true estate of one of the greatest questions of moral 
 philosophy : whether the enjoying of outward things, 
 or the contemning of them, be the greatest happi- 
 ness : for when he saw Diogenes so perfectly contented 
 with so little, he said to those that mocked at his 
 condition ; " Were I not Alexander, I would wish to 
 be Diogenes." But Seneca ^inverteth it, and saith ; 
 " Plus erat, quod hie nollet accipere, quam quod illc 
 l)0sset dare." " There were more things which Dio- 
 genes would have refused, than those were, which 
 Alexander could have given or enjoyed." 
 
 Observe again that speech which was usual with 
 him, " That he felt his mortality chiefly in two 
 things, sleep and lust ; " and see if it were not a 
 speech extracted out of the depth of natural philo- 
 sophy, and liker to have come out of the mouth of 
 Aristotle, or Democritus, than from Alexander. 
 
 See again that speech of humanity and poesy; when 
 upon the bleeding of his wounds, he called unto him 
 one of his flatterers, that was wont to ascribe to him 
 divine honour, and said, " Look, this is very blood ; this 
 is not such liquor as Homer speaketh of, which ran from 
 Venus's hand, when it was j)icrccd by Diomedes." 
 
 See likewise his readiness m reprehension of logic, 
 in the speech he used to Cassander, upon a complaint 
 that was made against his father Antipater : for when 
 Alexander happened to say, " Do you think these men 
 would have come from so far to complain, except they 
 had just cause of grief?" And ('assander answered, 
 " Yea, that was the matter, because they thought
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 55 
 
 they should not be disproved." Said AleXcandcr 
 laughing : " See tlie subtilties of Aristotle, to take a 
 matter both ways, pro et contra^^ etc. 
 
 But note again how well he could use the same art, 
 which he reprehended, to serve his own humour, when 
 beaiing a secret grudge to Callisthenes, because he was 
 against the new ceremony of his adoration : feasting 
 one night, where the same Callisthenes was at the 
 table, it was moved by some, after supper, for entertain- 
 ment sake, that Callisthenes, who was an eloquent man, 
 might speak of some theme or purpose at his own 
 clioice : which Callisthenes did ; choosing the praise 
 of the ISIacedonian nation for his discourse, and per- 
 forming the same with so good manner, as the hearers 
 were much ravished : whereupon Alexander, nothing 
 pleased, said, "It was easy to be eloquent upon so 
 good a subject. " But," saith he, " turn your stile, 
 and let us hear what you can say against us : " which 
 Callisthenes presently undertook, and did with that 
 sting and life, that Alexander interrupted him, and 
 said, " The goodness of the cause made him eloquent 
 before, and despite made him eloquent then again." 
 
 Consider farther, for tropes of rhetoric, that excel- 
 lent use of a metaphor or translation, wherewith he 
 taxed Antipater, who was an imperious and tyrannous 
 governor : for when one of Antipater's friends com- 
 mended him to Alexander for his moderation, that he 
 did not degenerate, as his other lieutenants did, into 
 the Persian pride in use of purple, but kept the ancient 
 habit of Macedon, of black : " True," saith Alexander, 
 " but Antipater is all purple within." Or that other, 
 when Parmenio came to him in the plain of Arbela, 
 and shewed him the innumerable multitude of his 
 enemies, especially as they appeared by the infinite 
 number of lights, as it had been a new firmament of 
 stars, and thereupon advised him to assail them by 
 night : whereupon he answered, " That he would not 
 steal the victory." 
 
 For matter of policy, weigh that significant dis- 
 tinction, so much in all ages embraced, that he made 
 between his two friends, Hephaestion and Craterus, 
 
 E 2
 
 56 ADVANCEME]SIT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 when he said, '* That the one loved Alexander, and 
 the other loved the king : " describing the principal 
 difference of princes best servants, that some in affec- 
 tion love their person, and others in duty love their 
 crown. 
 
 Weigh also that excellent taxation of an error ordi- 
 nary with counsellors and princes, that they counsel their 
 masters according to the model of their own mind and 
 fortune, and not of their masters ; when, upon Da- 
 rius's great offers, Parmenio had said, " Surely I would 
 accept these offers, were I as Alexander ; " saith 
 Alexander, " So would I, were I as Parmenio." 
 
 Lastly, weigh that quick and acute reply, which he 
 made when he gave so large gifts to his friends and 
 servants, and was asked what he did reserve for him- 
 self, and he answered, " Hope : " weigh, I say, whether 
 he had not cast up his account right, because hope 
 must be the portion of all that resolve upon great 
 enterprises. For this was Caesar's portion when he 
 went first into Gaul, his estate being then utterly over- 
 thrown wih largesses. And this was likewise the por- 
 tion of that noble prince, howsoever transported with 
 ambition, Henry duke of Guise, of whom it was usually 
 said, that he was the greatest usurer in France, because 
 he had turned all his estate into obligations. 
 
 To conclude therefore : as certain critics are used 
 to say hyperbolically, " That if all sciences were lost, 
 they might be found in Virgil ; " so certainly this 
 may be said truly, there are the prints and footsteps of 
 all learning in those few speeches which are reported 
 of this prince : the admiration of whom, when I con- 
 sider him not as Alexander the great, but as Aristotle's 
 scholar, hath carried me too far. 
 ^\ T As for Julius Caesar, the excellency of his learning 
 
 needeth not to be argued from his education, or his 
 company, or his speeches ; but in a farther degree doth 
 declare itself in his writings and works ; wliereof some 
 are extant and permanent, and some unfortunately 
 perished. For, first, we see, there is left unto us that 
 excellent history of his own wars, which he intitled 
 only a coniinentary, wlierein all succeeding times have
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 57 
 
 admired the solid weight of matter, and the real pas- 
 sages, and lively images of actions and persons, ex- 
 pressed in the greatest propriety of words and perspi- 
 cuity of narration that ever was ; which that it was not 
 the effect of a natural gift, but of learning and precept, 
 is well witnessed by that work of his, intitled " De 
 Analogia," being a grammatical philosophy, wherein 
 he did labour to make this same vo,v ad placitum to 
 become vox ad liciftwi, and to reduce custom of speech 
 to congruity of speech ; and took, as it were, the pic- 
 ture of words from the life of reason. 
 
 So we receive from him, as a monument both of his 
 power and learning, the then reformed computation of 
 the year; well expressing that he took it to be as great 
 a glory to himself to observe and know the law of the 
 heavens, as to give law to men upon the earth. 
 
 So likewise in that book of his, " Anti-Cato," it 
 may easily appear that he did aspire as well to victory 
 of wit as victory of war; undertaking therein a con- 
 flict against the greatest champion with the pen that 
 then lived, Cicero the orator. 
 
 So again in his book of " Apophthegms," which he 
 collected, we see that he esteemed it more honour to 
 make himself but a pair of tables, to take the wise and 
 pithy words of others, than to have every word of his 
 own to be made an apophthegm, or an oracle; as 
 vain princes, by custom of flattery, pretend to do. 
 And yet if I should enumerate divers of his speeches, 
 as I did those of Alexander, they are truly such as 
 Solomon noteth, when he saith, " Verba sapientuni 
 tanquam aculei, et tanquam clavi in altum defixi : " 
 whereof I will only recite three, not so delectable for 
 elegancy, but admirable for vigour and efficacy. 
 
 As first, it is reason he be thought a master of words, 
 that could with one word appease a mutiny in his 
 army, which was thus : The Romans, when their ge- 
 nerals did speak to their army, did use the word 
 AJilites, but when the magistrates spake to the people, 
 they did use the word Quiritcs. The soldiers were in 
 tumult, and seditiously prayed to be cashiered ; not 
 that they so meant, but by expostulation thereof to
 
 58 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 draw Caesar to other conditions ; wherein he being re- 
 sokite not to give way, after some silence, he began his 
 speech, " Ego, Quirites:" which did admit them ah-eady 
 cashiered : wherewith they were so surprised, crossed, 
 and confused, as they would not suffer him to go on in 
 his speech, but relinquished their demands, and made 
 it their suit, to be again called by the name of " Militcs." 
 The second speech was thus : Caesar did extremely 
 affect the name of king ; and some were set on, as he 
 passed by, in popular acclamation to salute him king ; 
 whereupon, finding the cry weak and poor, he put it 
 off thus, in a kind of jest, as if they had mistaken 
 his surname; " Non rex sum, sed Caesar; " a speech, that 
 if it be searched, the life and fulness of it can scarce 
 be expressed : for, first, it was a refusal of the name, 
 but yet not serious : again, it did signify an infinite 
 confidence and magnanimity, as if he presumed Caesar 
 was the greater title, as by his worthiness it is come to 
 pass till this day : but chiefly, it was a speech of great 
 allurement toward his own purpose ; as if the state 
 did strive with him but for a name, whereof mean 
 families were vested ; for Rex was a surname with the 
 Romans, as well as King is with us. 
 
 The last speech which I will mention, was used to 
 Metellus ; when Caesar, after war declared, did possess 
 himself of the city of Rome, at which time entering 
 into the inner treasury to take the money there accu- 
 mulated, Metellus, being tribune, forbad him : whereto 
 Caesar said, " That if he did not desist, he would lay 
 him dead in the place." And presently taking him- 
 self up, he added, " Young man, it is harder for me 
 to speak it, than to do it ;" " Adolescens, durius est 
 milii hoc dicere, quam faccre." A speech conqioundcd 
 of the greatest terror and greatest clemency that could 
 proceed out of the mouth of man. 
 
 But to return, and conclude with him : it is evident, 
 himself knew well his own perfection in learning, and 
 took it uj)on him: as appeared, when, upon occasion that 
 some spake, wluit a strange resolution it was in Lucius 
 Sylla to resign his dictature ; he scoffing at him, to his 
 own advantage, answered, " That Sylla could not
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 5^1 
 
 skill of letters, and therefore knew not how to dic- 
 tate." 
 
 And here it were fit to leave this point, touching 
 the concurrence of military virtue and learning, for 
 what example should come with any grace, after those 
 two of Alexander and Caesar ? were it not in regard 
 of the rareness of circumstance, that I find in one other 
 particular, as that which did so suddenly pass from 
 extreme scorn to extreme wonder ; and it is of Xeno- 
 phon the philosopher, who went from Socrates's 
 school into Asia, in the expedition of Cyrus the 
 younger, against king Artaxerxes. This Xenophon 
 at that time was very young, and never had seen the 
 wars before ; neither had any command in the army, 
 but only followed the war as a voluntary, for the love 
 and conversation of Proxenus his friend. He was 
 present when Falinus came in message from the great 
 king to the Grecians, after that Cyrus was slain in 
 the field, and they a handful of men left to themselves 
 in the midst of the king's territories, cut off from 
 their country by many navigable rivers, and many 
 hundred miles. The message imported that they 
 should deliver up their arms, and submit themselves 
 to the king's mercy. To which message before answer 
 was made, divers of the army conferred familiarly 
 with Falinus : and amongst the rest Xenophon hap- 
 pened to say, " Why, Falinus, we have now but these 
 two things left, our arms and our virtue ; and if we 
 yield up our arms,how shall we make use of our virtue?" 
 Whereto Falinus, smiling on him, said, " If I be not 
 deceived, young gentleman, you are an Athenian, and, 
 I believe, you study philosophy, and it is pretty that 
 you say ; but you are much abused, if you think your 
 virtue can withstand the king's power." Here was the 
 scorn : the wonder followed ; which was, that this 
 young scholar, or philosopher, after all the captains 
 were murdered in parley by treason, conducted those 
 ten thousand foot, through the heart of all the king's 
 high countries, from Babylon to Graecia in safety, in 
 despite of all the king's forces, to the astonishment 
 of the world, and the encouragement of the Grecians
 
 60 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 in time succeeding to make invasion upon the kings of 
 Persia ; as was after purposed by Jason the Thessa- 
 lian, attempted by Agesilaus the Spartan, and 
 achieved by Alexander the IVIacedonian, all upon the 
 ground of the act of that young scholar. 
 
 To proceed now from iniperial and military virtue 
 to moral and private^\djt;tiiej first, it is an assured 
 trutET'v^Tiich is contained in the verses ; 
 
 " Scilicet ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes, 
 Emollit mores, nee sinit esse feros." 
 
 It taketh away the wildness, and barbarism, and 
 fierceness of mens minds : but indeed the accent had 
 need be n])0\\ Jide liter : for a little superficial learning 
 doth rather work a contrary effect. It taketh away 
 all levity, temerity, and insolency, by copious sugges- 
 tion of all doubts and difficulties, and acquainting 
 the mind to balance reasons on both sides, and to 
 turn back the first offers and conceits of the mind, 
 and to accept of nothing but examined and tried. It 
 taketh away vain admiration of any thing, which is 
 the root of all weakness : for all things are admired, 
 either because they are new, or because they are great. 
 For no\^elty, no man that wadeth in learning or con- 
 templation throughly, but will find that printed in his 
 heart, " Nil novi super terram." Neither can any 
 man marvel at the play of puppets, that goeth behind 
 the curtain, and adviseth well of the motion. And for 
 magnitude, as Alexander the great, after he was used 
 to great armies, and the conquests of the spacious pro- 
 vinces in Asia, when he received letters out of Greece, 
 of some fights and services there, which were com- 
 monly for a passage, or a fort, or some walled iowa at 
 the most, he said, " It seemed to him, that he was 
 advertised of the battle of the frogs and the mice, that 
 the old tales went cf." So certainly, if a man meditate 
 upon the universal frame of nature, the eartli with men 
 upon it. the divinencss of souls excepted, will not seem 
 much other than an ant-hill, where some ants carry 
 cora.and some carry theiryoung,andsomegoempty, and 
 all to and fro a little lieap of dust. It taketh away or 
 mitigateth fear of death, or adverse fortune ; which is.
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 
 
 61 
 
 one of the greatest impediments of virtue, and imper- 
 fections of manners. For if a man's mind be deeply 
 seasoned with the consideration of the mortality and 
 corruptible nature of things, he will easily concur with 
 Epictetus, who went forth one day, and saw a woman 
 weeping for her pitcher of earth that was broken ; and 
 went forth the next day, and saw a woman weeping 
 for her son that was dead ; and thereupon said, " Heii 
 vidi fragilem frangi, hodie vidi mortalem mori." And 
 therefore did Virgil excellently and profoundly couple 
 the knowledge of causes, and the conquest of all fears 
 together, as concomitantia : 
 
 " Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere cnusas, 
 Quique inetus omnes, et inexorabilc fatum 
 Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari." 
 
 It were too long to go over the particular remedies 
 which learning doth minister to all the diseases of the 
 mind, sonietim'es purging tlic ill humours, sometimes 
 opening the obstructions, sometimes helping digestion, 
 sometimes increasing appetite, sometimes healing the 
 wounds and exulcerations thereof, and the like ; and 
 therefore I will conclude with that which hath " ratio- 
 nem totius," which is, that it disposeth the constitutionlv 
 of the mind not to be fixed or settled in the defects Tj 
 thereof, but still to be capable and susceptible of || 
 growth and reformation. For the unlearned man ■ 
 knows not what it is to descend into himself, or to call 
 himself to account ; nor the pleasure of that " sua- 
 vissima vita, indies sentire so fieri meliorem." The 
 good parts he hath, he will learn to shew to the full, 
 and use them dexterously, but not much to increase 
 them : tlie faults he liath, he will learn to hide and 
 coloiu' them, but not much to amend them : like an 
 ill mower, that mows on still, and never whets his 
 scythe. ^Vhereas, with the learned man it fares other- 
 wise that he doth ever intermix the correction and 
 amendment of his mind, with the use and employ- 
 nient thereof Nay, farther, in general and in sum, 
 certain it is, that Veritas and hointas differ but 
 as the seal and the print : for truth prints goodness ; 
 and they be the clouds of error, whicli descend in tlie 
 storms of passions and perturbations.
 
 62 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 From moral virtue let us pass on t o mat ter of power 
 and comm^iidm^utju.and consider -vvliethcr in rigTit 
 reason there be any comparable with that, where- 
 with knowledge investeth and crowneth man's na- 
 ture. We see the dignity of the commandment is 
 according to the dignity of the commanded : to have 
 commandment over beasts, as herdmen have, is a 
 thing contemptible ; to have commandment over 
 children, as schoolmasters have, is a matter of small 
 honour ; to have commandment over galley-slaves, is 
 a disparagement, rather than an honour. Neither is 
 the commandment of tyrants much better, over people 
 which have put off the generosity of their minds : 
 and therefore it was ever holden, that honours in free 
 monarchies and commonwealths had a sweetness more 
 than in tyrannies, because the commandment extend- 
 eth more over the wills of men, and not only over their 
 deeds and services. And therefore when Virgil putteth 
 himself forth to attribute to Augustus Caesar the best 
 of human honours, he doth it in these words : 
 
 " victorque voleiites 
 
 Per populos dat jura, viamque affectat Olynipo." 
 
 But the commandment of knowledge is yet higher 
 than the commandment over the will ;: for it is*a'com- 
 mandment over the reason, belief, and understanding 
 of inan, which is the highest part of the mind, and 
 givcth law to the will itself: for there is no power 
 on earth, which settetli up a throne, or chair of 
 state, in the spirits and souls of men, and in their co- 
 «;itations, imaginations, opinions, and beliefs, but know- 
 ledge and learning. And therefore we see the detest- 
 able and extreme pleasure that arch-heretics, and false 
 prophets arc transported with, when they once find in 
 themselves tliat they have a superiority in the faith 
 and conscience of men ; so great, as, if they have once 
 tasted of it, it is seldom seen that any torture or per- 
 secution can make them relinquish or abandon it. 
 But as this is that which the author of the " Revela- 
 tion'' calloth '* the depth," or profoundness, " of Satan ;" 
 so, by argument of contraries, the just and lawful 
 sovereignty over mens understanding, by force of
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 6S 
 
 truth lightly interpreted, is that which approachctli 
 nearest to the simiHtude of the divine rule. 
 
 As for fortune and advancement, the beneficence 
 of learning is not so confined to give fortune only to 
 states and commonwealths, as it doth not likewise give 
 fortune to particular persons. For it was well noted 
 long ago, that Homer hath given more men their 
 livings, than either Sylla, or Caesar, or Augustus ever 
 did, notwithstanding their great largesses and dona- 
 tives, and distributions of lands to so many legions ; 
 and no doubt it is hard to say, whether arms or learning 
 have advanced greater numbers. And in case of sove- 
 reignty we see, that if arms or descent have carried away 
 the kingdom, yet learning hath carried the priesthood, 
 which ever hath been in some competition with empire. 
 Again, for the pleasure and delight of knowledge 
 and learniuir, it far siirpasscth all other iu uatiu"c : for 
 shall tlie pleasures of the affections so exceed the plea- 
 sures of the senses, as much as the obtaining of desire 
 or victory exceedeth a song or a dinner ? and must not, 
 of consequence, the pleasures of the intellect, or under- 
 standing, exceed the pleasures of the affections ? We 
 see in all other pleasures there is a satiety, and after 
 they be used, their verdure departeth ; which sheweth 
 well they be but deceits of pleasure, and not pleasures ; 
 and that it was the novelty which pleased, and not 
 the quality ; and therefore we soc that voluptuous 
 men turn friers, and ambitious princes turn melancholy. 
 But o f knowle dge there is no satiety, but satisfaction 
 and appetite are perpetually interchangeable ; and 
 therefore appearcth to be good in itself simply, with- 
 out fallacy or accident. Neither is that pleasure 
 of small efficacy and contentment to the mind of 
 man, which the poet Lucretius describeth elegantly : 
 " Suave mari magno, turbantibus aequora ventis, etc." 
 " It is a view of delight, saith he, to stand or walk 
 upon the shore side, and to see a ship tossed with tem- 
 pest upon the sea ; or to be in a fortified tower, and 
 to see two battles join upon a plain ; but it is a pleasure 
 incomparable for the mind of man to be settled, landed, 
 and fortified in the certainly of truth, and from thence
 
 64 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book I. 
 
 to descry and behold the errors, perturbations, labours, 
 and wanderings up and down of other men." 
 
 Lastly, leaving the vulgar arguments that by learn- 
 ing man excelleth man in that wherein man excelleth 
 beasts ; that by learning man ascendeth to the heavens 
 and their motions, where in body he cannot come, 
 and the like : let us conclude with the dignity and 
 excellency of knowtedgg^and lieaTning in -that where- 
 unto man's nature doth most aspire, which isVlmmor- 
 tality or continuance : for to this tendeth generation, 
 and raising of houses and families ; to this tend build- 
 ings, foundations, and monuments ; to this tendeth 
 the desire of memory, fame, and celebration, and in 
 effect the strength of all other human desires. We 
 see then how far the monuments of wit and learning 
 are more durable than the monuments of power, or 
 of the hands. For have not the verses of Homer 
 continued twenty-five hundred years, or more, without 
 the loss of a syllable or letter ; during which time, 
 infinite palaces, temples, castles, cities, have been de- 
 cayed and demolished ? It is not possible to have the 
 true pictures or statues of Cyrus, Alexander, Caesar ; 
 no, nor of the kings or great personages of much later 
 years ; for the originals cannot last, and the copies 
 cannot but lose of the life and truth. But the images of 
 mens wits and knowledges remain in books, exempted 
 from the wrong of time, and capable of perpetual 
 renovation. Neither are they fitly to be called images, 
 because they generate still, and cast their seeds in the 
 mind of others, provoking and causing infinite actions 
 and opinions in succeeding ages : so that if the inven- 
 tion of the ship was thought so noble, which carrieth 
 riches and commodities from place to place, and conso- 
 ciateth the most remote regions in participation 
 of their fruits ; how much more are letters to be mag- 
 nified, which, as ships, pass through the vast seas 
 of time, and make ages so distant to participate 
 of the wisdom, illuminations, and inventions, the 
 one of the other ? Nay farther, we see, some of the 
 philosopliers which were least divine, and most 
 immersed in tlie senses, and denied generally the
 
 Book I.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 65 
 
 immortality of the soul ; yet came to this point, that 
 whatsoever motions the spirit of man could act and 
 perform without the organs of the body, they thought 
 might remain after death, which were only those of 
 the understanding, and not of the affections ; so 
 immortal and incorruptible a thing did knowledge 
 seem unto them to be. But we, that know by divine 
 revelation, that not only the understanding, but the 
 affections purified ; not only the spirit, but the body 
 changed, shall be advanced to immortality, do disclaim 
 in these rudiments of the senses. But it must be remem- 
 bered both in this last point, and so it may likewise be 
 needful in other places, that in probation of the dig- 
 nity of knowledge or learning, I did in the beginning 
 separate divine testimony from human, which method 
 I have pursued, and so handled them both apart. 
 
 Nevertheless I do not pretend, and I know it will be 
 impossible for me, by any pleading of mine, to reverse 
 the judgment, either of jEsop's cock, that preferred 
 the barley-corn before the gem; or of Midas, that being 
 chosen judge between Apollo, president of the Muses, 
 and Pan, god of the flocks, judged for plenty ; or of 
 Paris, that judged for beauty and love, against wisdom 
 and power ; or of Agrippina, " Occidat matrem, modo 
 imperet," that preferred empire with any condition 
 never so detestable ; or of Ulysses, " qui vetulam 
 prajtulit immortalitati," being a figure of those which 
 prefer custom and habit before all excellency ; or of a 
 number of the like popular judgments. For these 
 things must continue as they have been ; but so will 
 that also continue, whereupon learning hath ever relied, 
 and which faileth not : " Justificata est Sapientia a 
 filiis suis."
 
 THE 
 
 SECOND BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 FRANCIS BACON : 
 
 OF THE 
 
 PllOFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT OF 
 
 LEARNING, 
 
 DIVINE AND HUMAN. 
 
 It might seem to have more conveiiience, though it 
 come often otherwise to pass, excellent king, that 
 those, which are fruitful in their generations, and 
 have in themselves the foresight of immortality in 
 their descendants, should likewise be more careful of 
 the good estate of future times, unto which, they 
 know, they must transmit and commend over their 
 dearest pledges. Queen Elizabeth was a sojourner in 
 the world, in respect of her unmarried life, and was a 
 blessing to her own times ; and yet so as the im- 
 pression of her good government, besides her happy 
 memory, is not without some effect which doth sur- 
 vive her. But to your majesty, whom God hath al- 
 ready blessed with so much royal issue, worthy to 
 continue and represent you for ever; and whose 
 youthful and fruitful bed doth yet promise many the 
 like renovations ; it is proper and agreeable to be 
 conversant, not only in the transitory parts of good 
 government, but in tliose acts also which are in their 
 nature permanent and perpetual : amongst the which, 
 if affection do not transport me, there is not any more 
 worthy, than the farther endowment of the world 
 with sound and fruitfid knowledge. For why should
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 67 
 
 a few received authors stand up like Hcrcules's 
 columns ; beyond which there should he no sailing or 
 discovering, since we have so bright and benign a star 
 as your majesty, to conduct and prosper us? To return 
 therefore where we left, it remaineth to consider of 
 what kind those acts are, which have been undertaken 
 and performed by kings and others, for the increase 
 and advancement of learning, wherein I purpose to 
 speak actively, without digressing or dilating. 
 
 Let this ground therefore be laid, that all works are 
 overcome by amplifcuxle— of rewa,rd, by soundness of 
 direction, and by the conjunction of labours. The 
 first multiplieth endeavour, the second preventeth 
 error, and the third supplieth the frailty of man ; but 
 the principal of these is direction : for " claudus in via 
 antevertit cursorem extra viam ; " and Solomon excel- 
 lently setteth it down, " If the iron be not sharp, it 
 requireth more strength ; but wisdom is that which 
 prcvaileth : " signifying, that the invention or election 
 of the mean is more effectual than any inforcement 
 or accumulation of endeavours. This I am induced 
 to speak, for that, not derogating from the noble in- 
 tention of any that have been deservers towards the 
 state of learning, I do observe, nevertheless, that their 
 works and acts are rather matters of magnificence and 
 memory, than of progression and proficience, and tend 
 rather to augment the mass of learning, in the multi- 
 tude of learned men, than to rectify or raise the 
 sciences themselves. 
 
 The works or acts, of mer^ towards learning are 
 conversant about three Qbjccts'^ ;' ihe places of learning, 
 ^he books of learning, and the persons of the learned. 
 ^ For as water, whether it be the dew of heaven, or the 
 springs of the earth, doth scatter and lose itself in the 
 ground, except it be collected into some receptacle, 
 where it may by union comfort and sustain itself; and 
 for that cause the industry of man hath made and 
 framed spring-heads, conduits, cisterns, and pools, 
 which men have accustomed likewise to beautify and 
 adorn with accomplishments of magnificence and state, 
 as well as of use and necessity ; so this excellent
 
 68 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 liquor of knowledge, whether it descend from divine 
 inspiration, or spring from human sense, would spo^ 
 perish and vanish to oblivion, if it were not preseri^^ 
 in books, traditions, conferences, and places appointed; 
 as universities, colleges, and schools, for the receipt 
 and comforting of the same. 
 
 r^ J The works which concern the i^eats aud places 
 
 \~,i^--^ of learning are four : foundations and buildings, en- 
 dowineiits with revenues, endowments with fran- 
 chises and privileges, institutions and ordinances for 
 government ; all tending to quietness and privateness 
 of life, and discharge of cares and troubles ; much 
 like the stations which Virgil prcscribeth for the 
 hiving of bees : 
 
 " Principio sedes apibus statioque petenda, 
 Quo neque sit ventis aditus," etc. 
 
 The works touching books are two ; first, lil)rgjg,cSj_ 
 which are as the shrines where all the relicks of tlie 
 ancient saints, full of true virtue, and that without 
 delusion or imposture, are preserved and reposed : 
 secondly, new^editions of authors, with more correct 
 impressions, more Faithful translations, more profitable 
 glosses, more diligent annotations, and the like. 
 ^ The works pertaining to the persons of learned 
 men, besides the advancement and countenancing of 
 them in general, are two : the reward and designation 
 of readers in sciences already extant and invented ; 
 and the reward and designation of writers and in- 
 quirers concerning any parts of iGaruiugnot suffici- 
 ently laboured and prosecuted. 
 
 These are summarily the works and acts, wherein 
 the merits of many excellent princes and other worthy 
 personages have been conversant. As for any par- 
 ticular commemorations, I call to mind what Cicero 
 said, when he gave general thanks; " Difficile non 
 aliquem, ingratum quenquam praeterire." Let us ra- 
 tlier, according to the Scriptures, look unto the part 
 of the race which is before us, than look back to that 
 which is already attained. 
 
 First therefore, amongst so many great foundations 
 of colh'gcs in Kurope, 1 find strange tlmtthiiyjire
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OE EEARNING. 6}) 
 
 all dedicated to prof^sjjigi^s,, aud uone lei't free to arts 
 and sci£J]££§^,ayQ^-gc. , 1^^^^ if men judge that learning 
 should he referred to action, they judge well ; but in 
 this they fall into the error described in the ancient 
 fable, in which the other parts of tlie body did suppose 
 the stomach had been idle, because it neither performed 
 the office of motion, as the limbs do, nor of sense, as 
 the head doth ; but yet, notwithstanding, it is the 
 stomach that digesteth and distributeth to all the 
 rest: so if any man think philosophy and uni- \ 
 vcrsality to be idle studies, he doth not consider that \ 
 all professions are from thence served and supplied. > 
 And this I take to be a great cause that hath hin- 
 dered the progression of learning, because these fun- 
 damental knowledges have been studied but in 2:)assage. 
 For if you will have a tree bear more fruit than it hath 
 used to do, it is not any thing you can do to the 
 boughs, but it is the stirring of the earth, and putting 
 new mould about the roots, that must work it. Nei- 
 ther is it to be forgotten, that this dedicating of foun- 
 dations and dotations to professory learning, hath not 
 only had a malign aspect and influence upon the growth 
 of sciences, but hath also been prejudicial to states 
 and governments. For hence it proceedeth that 
 princes find a solitude in regard of able men to serve 
 them in causes of estate, because there is no education 
 collegiate which is free, where such as were so disposed 
 might give themselves to histories, modern lan- 
 guages, books of policy and civil discourse, and other 
 the like enablements unto service of state. 
 
 And because founders of colleges do plant, and 
 founders of lectures do water, it followeth well in 
 order, to speak of the defect which is in public lectures; 
 namely^i the smallness and mcaujiess <>f the salary ^. ' 
 orx^Miiii'd, which in most places is assigned unto them ; 
 whether they be lectures of arts or of professions. 
 For it is necessary to the progression of sciences, that 
 readers be of the most able and sufficient men, as 
 those which are ordained for generating and propaga- 
 ting of sciences, and not for transitory use. This 
 cannot be, except their condition and endowment be 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 70 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 such as may content the ablest man to appropriate his 
 whole labour, and continue his whole age in that 
 function and attendance, and tlierefore must have a 
 proportion answerable to that mediocrity or compe- 
 tency of advancement, which may be expected from 
 a profession, or the practice of a profession. So as, 
 if you will have sciences flourish, you must observe 
 David's military law, which was, " That those which 
 staid with the carriage, should have equal part with 
 those which were in the action ; " else will the car- 
 riages be ill attended. So readers in sciences are 
 indeed the guardians of the stores and provisions of sci- 
 ences, whence men in active courses are furnished, and 
 therefore ought to have equal entertainment with 
 them; otherwise if the fathers in sciences be of the 
 weakest sort, or be ill-maintained, 
 
 • " Et patrum invalidi referent jejunia nati." 
 Another defect I note, wherein I shall need some 
 alchemist to help me, who call upon men to sell tlieir 
 books, and to build furnaces, quitting and forsaking 
 INIinerva and the j\Iuses as barren virgins, and relying 
 upon Vulcan. But certain it is, that unto the deep, 
 fruitful, and operative study of many sciences, espe- 
 cially natural philosophy and physic, books be not only 
 the instrumentals wherein also the beneficence of men 
 hath not been altogether wanting : for we see spheres, 
 globes, astrolabes, maps, and the like, have been pro- 
 vided as appurtenances to astronomy and cosmography, 
 as well as books ; we see likewise, that some places 
 instituted for physic have annexed tlie commodity of 
 gardens for simples of all sorts, and do likewise com- 
 mand the use of dead bodies for anatomies. But these 
 do respect but a few things. In general, there will 
 hardly be any main proficience in the disclosing of 
 nature, exccpt_thcrc be some allowance for expences 
 about experiments f whether they be cxjicfimcnts 
 appertaining to Vulcanus or Daedalus, furnace or 
 engine, or any other kind ; and therefore as secretaries 
 and spials of princes and states bring in bills for 
 intelligence, so you must allow the spials and intelli-
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OV EEARNING. 71 
 
 gcncers of nature to bring in their bills, or else you 
 shall be ill a(l\ crtised. 
 
 And if Alexander made such a liberal assignation 
 to Aristotle of treasure for the allowance of hunters, 
 fowlers, fishers, and the like, that he might compile ■ 
 
 an history of nature, much better do they deserve it : 
 
 that Travel in arts of nature. 
 
 Another defect which 1 note, is an intermission or 
 neglect, in tliose which are governors in universities, 
 of consultation ; and in princes, or superior persons, 
 of visitation : to enter into account and consideration, 
 whether the readings, exercises, and other customs, 
 apjiei-taining unto Icarniiig, anciently begun, and 
 since continued, be well instituted or no, and there- 
 upon to ground an amendment or reformation in that 
 which shall be fo\nid inconvenient. For it is one of 
 your majesty's own most wise and princely maxims, 
 " That in all usages and precedents, the times be con- 
 sidered wherein they first began, which if they were 
 weak or ignorant, it derogate th from tlie authority of 
 the usage, and leaveth it for suspect." And therefore 
 in as much as most of the usages and orders of the 
 universities were derived from more obscure times, it 
 is the more requisite they be re-examined. In this 
 kind I will give an instance or two, for example sake, 
 of things that are the most obvious and familiar : the 
 one is a matter, which though it be ancient and gene- 
 ral, yet I hold to be an error, which is, that scholars 
 in universities come too soon and too unripe to 
 logic and rhetoric, arts fitter for graduates than chil- 
 dren and novices ; for these two, rightly taken, are the 
 gravest of sciences, being the arts of arts, the one for 
 judgment, the other for ornament. And they be the 
 rules and directions how to set fortli and dispose 
 matter ; and therefore for minds empty and imfrauglit 
 with matter, and which have not gathered that which 
 Cicero calleth syha and siipellex, stuff and variety, 
 to begin with those arts, as if one should leain to 
 weigh, or to measure, or to paint the wind, doth work 
 but this efl^'ect, that the wisdom of those arts, whicli
 
 72 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 is great and universal, is almost made contemptible, 
 and is degenerate into childish sophistry and ridicu- 
 lous affectation. And farther, the untimely learning 
 of them hath drawn on, by consequence, the super- 
 ficial and unprofitable teaching and writing of them, 
 as fitteth indeed to the capacity of children. Another, 
 is a lack I find in the exercises used in the univer- 
 sities, whicii do make too great a divorce between 
 invention and memory ; for their speeches are either 
 premeditate in verbis conceptis, where nothing is left 
 to invention ; or merely extemporal, where little is 
 left to memory ; whereas in life and action there is 
 least use of either of these, but rather of intermix- 
 tures of premeditation and invention, notes and 
 memory ; so as the exercise fitteth not the practice, 
 nor the image the life ; and it is ever a true rule in 
 exercises, that they be framed as near as may be to 
 the life of practice, for otherwise they do pervert the 
 motions and faculties of the mind, and not prepare 
 them. The truth whereof is not obscure, when scho- 
 lars come to the practices of professions, or other 
 actions of civil life, which when they set into, this 
 want is soon found by themselves, and sooner by others. 
 But this part, touching the amendment of the insti- 
 tutions and orders of universities, I will conclude 
 with the clause of Caesar's letter to Oppius and Balbus, 
 " Hoc quemadmodum fieri possit, nonuulla mihi in 
 mentem veniunt, et multa reperiri possunt : de iis 
 rebus rogo vos, ut cogitationem suscipiatis." 
 
 Another defect, which I note, ascendeth a little 
 higher than the precedent ; for as the proficiencc of 
 learning consisteth much in the orders and institutions 
 of universities in the same states and kingdoms, so it 
 would be yet more advanced, if there wercjuore 
 j intetligep.cc mutual between the universities of Eu- 
 j rope Wan now there is. We see there be many 
 orders and foundations, which though they be di- 
 vided under several sovereignties and territories, yet 
 they take themselves to have a kind of contract, fra- 
 ternity, and correspondence one with another, inso- 
 nujch as they have ])rovincials and generals. And
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 73 
 
 surely as nature createth brotherhood in families, and 
 arts mechanical contract brotherhoods in common- 
 alties, and the anointment of God superinduceth a 
 brotherhood in kings and bishops : so in like manner 
 there cannot but be a fraternity in learning and 
 illumination, relating to that paternity which is attri- 
 buted to God, who is called the Father of illumina- 
 tions or lights. 
 
 The last defect ydlicliXjYill. note .isj,^ that there hath 
 noti)eenj,_or_very ^^TpJv been, any public designation 
 of writers or inqiiirers concerning such parts of know- 
 ledge, "as niay appear not to have been already suffi- 
 cientTylaboured or undertaken : unto which point it 
 is an inducement to entcrTnto a view and examination 
 what parts of learning have been prosecuted, and what 
 omitted : for the opinion of plenty is amongst the 
 causes of want, and the great quantity of books 
 maketh a shew rather of superfluity than lack ; which 
 surcharge, nevertheless, is not to be remedied by 
 making no more books, but by making more good 
 books, which, as the serpent of Moses, might devour 
 the serpents of the enchanters. 
 
 The removing of all the defects formerly enume- 
 rated, except the last, and of the active part also of 
 the last, which is the designation of writers, are opera 
 basilica; towards which the endeavours of a private man 
 may be but as an image in a cross-way, that may point 
 at the way, but cannot go it. But the inducing part 
 of the latter, which is the survey of learning, may 
 be set forward by private travel : wlierefore I will now 
 attempt to make a general and faithful perambu- 
 lation of learning, with an inquiry what parts thereof 
 lie fresh and waste, and not improved and converted 
 by the industry of man ; to the end that such a plot, 
 made and recorded to memory, may both minister 
 light to any public designation, and also serve to 
 excite voluntary endeavours: wherein, nevertlieless , my 
 purpose-is-at-thi& time to iK)teonly omissions and defi- 
 ciences, and not to make any redargiifion of errors, or 
 incomplete prosecutions : for it is one thing to set 
 forth Avhat ground lieth unmanured, and another thing 
 to correct ill husbandrv in that which is manured.
 
 74 
 
 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 In the handling and undertakhig of which work I 
 am not ianorant what it is that I do now move and 
 attempt, nor insensible of mine own weakness to sus- 
 tain my pm-pose ; but my hope is, that if my extreme 
 love to learning carry me too far, I may obtain the 
 excuse of affection ; for that " it is not granted to 
 man to love and to be wise." But, I know well, I can 
 use no other liberty of judgment than I must leave to 
 others ; and I, for my part, shall be indifferently 
 glad either to perform myself, or accept from another, 
 that duty of humanity " Nam qui erranti comiter 
 monstrat viam," etc. I do foresee likewise, that of 
 those things which I shall enter and register, as defi- 
 ciencies and omissions, many will conceive and censure, 
 that some of them are already done and extant ; 
 others to be but curiosities, and things of no great 
 use ; and others to be of too great difficulty, and almost 
 impossibility to be compassed and effected : but for 
 the two first, I refer myself to the particulars ; for the 
 last, touching impossibility, I take it, those things 
 are to be held possible, which may be done by some 
 person, though not by every one ; and which may be 
 done by many, though not by any one ; and which may 
 be done in succession of ages, though not within the 
 hour-glass of one man's life; and which may be done by 
 public designation, though not by pri\'atc endeavour. 
 
 But, notwithstanding, if any man will take to him- 
 self rather that of Solomon, " Dicit piger, Leo est in 
 via," than that of Virgil, " Possimt quia posse viden- 
 tur : " I shall be content that my labours be esteemed 
 but as the better sort of wishes ; for as it asketh some 
 knowledge to demand a question not impertinent, so 
 it rcquireth some sense to make a wish not absurd. 
 
 The parts of human learning have reference to 
 the three parts of man's Understanding, which is the 
 seat of learning: History to his Memory, Poesy to 
 his Imagination, and Pliilosophy to his Reason. 
 Divine learning receiveth the same distribution, for 
 the spirit of man is tlie same, though the revelation 
 of oracle and sense be diverse : so as theology consist-
 
 J5ook II.] ADVANCEMENT Ol' I.1<:aJ{NIN(;. 75 
 
 etli also of history of tlic Cliuich ; of parables, 
 vvliicli is divine poesy ; and of holy doctrine or precept: 
 for as for tliat part wliicli scenicth supernumerary, 
 which is prophecy, it is but divine history ; wliicli 
 hath that prerogative over human, as the narration 
 may be before tlie fact, as well as after. 
 
 HiS T()]iY is Na tural, CivlU Eccl0uislwal^^ui(LLi- nist^ria 
 /(^gn^^j-vjicrcot' the tlircc iirst I allow as extant, the ''*''''"^""'- 
 fourtliT note as "TTcHci^rt. For no man hatli pro- 
 pounded to himself the general state of learning to be 
 described and represented from age to age^ as many 
 have done the works of nature, and the state civil and 
 ecclesiastical ; without which the history of the world 
 seemcth to me to be as the statua of Polyphemus with 
 his eye out, that ])art being wanting which doth most 
 shew the spirit and life of the person : And yet 1 am not 
 ignorant, that in divers particular sciences, as of the 
 jurisconsults, the mathematicians, the rhetoricians, the 
 philosopliers, there arc set down some small memorials 
 of the scliools, authors, and books ; and so likewise 
 some barren relations touching the invention of arts 
 or usages. 
 
 lilit_ji just storv of learning, containing the anti- 
 (piitics ana originjils of knowledges and their sects, 
 their inventions, their traditions, their diverse admi- 
 nistrations and managings, their flourishings, their 
 op])ositions, decays, depressions, oblivions, removes, 
 with the causes and occasions of them, and all other 
 events concerning learning, throughout the ages of the 
 world, JLinay truly affirm to be wanting. 
 
 The use and end of which work, I do not so much 
 design for curiosity, or satisfaction of those that arc 
 the lovers of learning, but chiefly for a more serious 
 and grave purpose, which is this in few words, that 
 it wil l make lear ned men wise in_thc_iise_aiid. admi- 
 nist i:ation o f learning. ForTt is not 8t. Augustine's 
 nor St. Ambrose's works that will make so wise a 
 divine, as ecclesiastical history throughly read and 
 observed ; and the same reason is of learning.
 
 76 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 -^ V, History of Nature is of three sorts'^ oi^ii<itiire 
 in course, of nature erring or varying, and of jjature 
 r;^-, altered or wrought ; that is, history of creatures, history 
 *"" — of marvels, and history of arts. 
 
 The first of these, no douht, is extant, and that in 
 good perfection ; the two latter are handled so weakly 
 and unprofitably, as I am moved to note them as de- 
 ficient. 
 Historic' JO For I find no sufficient or competent collection of 
 naturs ^|^ works of uaturc, which have a dio-ression and 
 
 errantis. ' =3 " '■ 
 
 deflexion from the ordinary course of generations, 
 productions, and motions, whether they be singularities 
 of place and region, or the strange events of time 
 ancl chance, or the effects of yet unknown properties, 
 or the instances of exception to general kinds : it is 
 true, I find a number of books of fabulous experi- 
 ments and secrets, and frivolous impostures for plea- 
 sure and strangeness: but a substantial and severe 
 collection of the heteroclites, or irregularsoT nature;, 
 well examined and described, I find not, especially 
 not with due rejection of fables, and popular errors : 
 for as things now are, if an untruth in nature be once 
 on foot, what by reason of the neglect of examina- 
 tion and countenance of antiquity, and what by rea- 
 son of the use of the opinion in simihtudes and orna- 
 ments of speech, it is never called down. 
 
 The vise of this work, honoured with a precedent 
 in Aristotle, is nothing less than to give contentment 
 to the appetite of curious and vain wits, as the man- 
 ner of mirabilarics is to do ; but for two reasons, both 
 of great weight : the one, to correct the partiality of 
 axioms and opinions, which are commonly framed only 
 upon common and familiar examples ; the other, be- 
 cause from the wonders of nature is the nearest intel- 
 ligence and passage towards the wonders of art : for 
 it is no more, but by following, and as it were hound- 
 ing nature in her wanderings, to be able to lead her 
 afterwards to the same place again. 
 
 Neither am I of opinion, in this history of marvels, 
 that superstitious narrations of sorceries, witchcrafts, 
 dreams, divinations, and the like, where there is an
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 77 
 
 assurance and clear evidence of the fact, be altogether 
 excluded. For it is not yet known in what cases, 
 and how far, effects attributed to superstition do par- 
 ticipate of natural causes : and therefore howsoever 
 the practice of such tilings is to be condemned, yet 
 from the speculation and consideration of them light 
 may be taken, not only for the discerning of the 
 offences, but for the fartlicr disclosing of nature. Nei- 
 ther ought a man to make scruple of entering into 
 these things for inquisition of truth, as your majesty 
 hath shewed in your own example ; who with the two 
 clear eyes of religion and natural philosophy have 
 looked deeply and wisely into these shadows, and yet 
 ])roved yourself to be of the nature of the sun, which 
 passeth through pollutions, and itself remains as pure 
 as before. 
 
 But this I hold fit, that these narrations, which have 
 mixture with superstition, be sorted by themselves, 
 and not to be mingled with the narrations, which are 
 merely and sincerely iiatural. 
 
 But as for the narrations touching the prodigies 
 and miracles of religions, they are either not true, or 
 not natural ; and therefore impertinent for the story 
 of nature. 
 
 For history of nature wrought, or mechanical, I iiistoria 
 find some collections made of agriculture, and like- "'^•^*"'*^*- 
 wise of manual arts, but commonly with a rejection '^^ 
 of experiments familiar and vulgar. 
 
 ^or it is esteemed a kind of dishonour unto learn- 
 ingjto descend to inquiry or meditation upon matters 
 mecKamcal, except they be such as may be thought 
 secrets, rarities, and special subtilties ; which hu- 
 mour of vain and supercilious arrogancy is justly 
 derided in Plato ; where he brings in Hippias, a 
 vaunting sophist^ disputing with Socrates, a true and 
 unfeigned inquisitor of truth ; where the subject being 
 touching beauty, Socrates, after his wandering manner 
 of inductions, put first an example of a fair virgin, and 
 then of a fair horse, and then of a fair pot well glazed, 
 whereat Hippias was offended ; and said, " i\Iorc than 
 for courtesy's sake, he did not think much to dispute
 
 78 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 with any that did alledge such base and sordid in- 
 stances: whereunto Socrates answered, " You liave 
 reason, and it becomes you well, being a man so trim 
 in your vestments," etc. And so goeth on in an irony. 
 But the truth is, they be not the highest imtancQS 
 that give the securest information ; as may be well 
 expressed in the tale so common of the philosopher, 
 that while he gazed upwards to the stars fell into the 
 water ; for if he had looked down he might have seen 
 the stars in the water, but looking aloft, he could not 
 see the water in the stars. So it_cometh^j^enJo_^ss, 
 that mean and small things discover great, byattextliaiv 
 grea'tcaii discover the small; and therefore Aristotle 
 noteth well, ." that the nature^of every thino;_is^st 
 seen in his ..sinAUest_ portions,." And for that cause 
 he inquireth the nature of a commonwealth, fust in a 
 family, and the simple conjugations of man and wife, 
 parent and child, master and servant, which are in 
 every cottage. Even so likewise the nature of this 
 great city of the world, and the policy thereof, must 
 be first sought in mean concordances and small por- 
 tions. So we see how that secret of nature, of tlie 
 turning of iron, touched with the loadstone, towards 
 the north, was found out in needles of iron, not in 
 bars of iron. 
 
 IBut if myjudgment be of any weight, thejosfi^pf 
 History Mechanical is, of allothi'rs, tlic most radjcal 
 and fundamental towards natural philosophy ; sucli 
 natural philosophy as shall not vanish in the fnme of 
 subtile, sublime, or delectable speculation, but sucli 
 as shall be operative to the endowment and benefit of 
 man's life: for it will not only minister and suggest 
 for the present many ingenious practices in all trades, 
 by a connexion and transferring of the observations of 
 one art to the use of another, wlien the experiences of 
 several mysteries shall fall under the consideration 
 of one man's mind ; but farther, it will give a more 
 true and real illumination concerning causes and 
 axioms than is hitherto attained. 
 
 For like as a man's disjiosition is never well known 
 till he be crossed, nor Proteus ever changed shapes 
 till he was straitened and held fast ; so tlic passages
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 79 
 
 aiul variations of nature cannot appear so fully in the 
 liberty of nature, as in the trials and vexations of art. 
 
 rf / , 
 
 ^ '' For Civil History, it is of three kinds, not unfitly 
 to be compared with the three kinds of pictures or 
 images : for of pictures or images, we see, some are 
 unfinished, some are perfect, and some are defaced. 
 IS(Li)fJnst()ries we may find three kinds;- ^Memorials, 
 Perfect Histories, and Antiquities ; for memorials are 
 liisfory luifinished, or the first or rough draughts of 
 history ; and antiquities are history defaced, or some 
 remnants of history which have casually escaped the 
 shipwreck of time. 
 
 Manoriab, or preparatory history, are of two sorts, si^ 
 whereof the one may be term edjUo m m en tarie s, and 
 the other R egisters. Qommeiitaries lire they which 
 set down g_r.oin ti n unn rp nf th p _n nJ££ j,^.YC?\t '^ and ac- 
 tions, without the motives or designs, the counsels, the 
 speeches, the pretexts, the occasions, and other pas- 
 sages of action : for this is the true nature of a Com- 
 mentary, tliough Caesar, in modesty mixed with 
 greatness, did for his pleasure apply the name of a 
 Commentary to the best history of the world. Rcgisi,. -^ 
 te rs are col lections of public acts, as decrees of council, 
 judicial proceedings, declarations and letters of state, 
 orations, and the like, without a perfect continuance 
 or contexture of the thread of the narration. 
 
 Ajiligiijjjes, j)Y reuiuants of history, are, as waS; j>} 
 said, taiiquam tabula naufragii, wlien industrious 
 persons, by an exact and scrupulous diligence and ob-"' 
 servatron, but of iiiohuments, names, words, proverbs, 
 traditions, private records and evidences, fragments 
 of stories, passages of books that concern not story, 
 and the like, do save and recover somewhat from^^the 
 deluge of time. 
 
 In tliese kinds of i mper fect histories I do assign no 
 dcficience, for they are tamjuam impcrfectc mist a, and 
 therefore any dcficience in them is but their nature. 
 
 As for the corruptions and moths of history, which 
 are JipitiluicSjthc use of them deservctli to be banislied, 
 as all men of sound Judgment have confessed, as those
 
 80 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 that have fretted and corroded the soimd bodies of 
 many excellent histories, and ^vronght them into base 
 
 ^^i,.»„^ and unprofitable dregs. 
 
 \2^' History, which may be called Just and JReJof^e^ 
 Hut or y, is of three kinds , according to the object 
 which it pfopoundeth, or pretendeth to represent : for 
 it either representeth a time, or a person, or an action. 
 The first we call Chi-x micles, the second. _Lives, an d 
 the third~Narratians*,or Relations. 
 
 Of these, although the first be the most complete 
 and absolute kind of history, and hath most estima- 
 tion and glory, yet the second excelleth it in profit 
 and use, and the third in verity and sincerity. For 
 history of times representeth the magnitude of actions, 
 and the public faces and deportments of persons, and 
 passeth over in silence the smaller passages and mo- 
 tions of men and matters. 
 
 But such being the workmanship of God, as he 
 doth hang the greatest weight upon the smallest wires, 
 maxima e mmimis suspendens, it comes therefore to 
 pass, that such histories do rather set forth the pomp 
 of business than the true and inward resorts thereof. 
 But lives, if they be well written, propounding to 
 themselves a person to represent, in whom actions, 
 both greater and smaller, public and private, have a 
 commixture, must of a necessity contain a more true, 
 native, and lively representation. So again narrations 
 and relations of actions, as the War of Peloponnesus, 
 the Expedition of Cyrus Minor, the Conspiracy of 
 Catiline, cannot but be more purely and exactly true, 
 than liistories of times, because they may choose an 
 argument comprehensible within the notice and in- 
 structions of the writer : whereas he that undertaketh 
 the story of a time, especially of any length, cannot 
 but meet with many blanks and spaces, which he must 
 be forced to fill up out of his own wit and conjecture. 
 For the History of Times, I mean of civil history, 
 the providence of (Tod hath made the distribution : for 
 it hath pleased (lod to ordain and illustrate twoexcmplar 
 states of the world for axnjs, learning, moral yirtuc, 
 policy, uud laws. Tlie state of Grfecia, and t he statc^^
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 81 
 
 of Rome : Jthe histories whereof occupying the middle 
 parl'o]rtrme, have more ancient to them, histories 
 which may hy one common name be termed the Anti- 
 quities of the world ; and after them, histories which 
 may be likewise called by the name of Modern History. 
 
 Now to speak of th^jicfici©»eies. As to the hea- 
 then antiquities of the world, it is in vain to note 
 them for deficient : deficient they are no doubt, con- 
 sisting most of fables and fragments, but the dcfici- 
 ence cannot be holpen ; for antiquity is like fame, caput 
 ititcr nabila condit, her head is muffled from our sight. 
 For the history of the exemplar states, it is extant 
 in good perfection. Not but I could wish there were 
 a perfect course of history for Grsecia from Theseus to 
 Philopoemen, what time the affairs of Graecia were 
 drowned and extinguished in the affairs of Rome ; and 
 for Rome from Romulus to Justinianus, who may be 
 truly said to be ultimus Rotnano7^um. In which se- 
 quences of story the text of Thucydides and Xeno- 
 phon in the one, and the text of Livius, Polybius, Sa- 
 lustius, Caesar, Appianus, Tacitus, Herodianus, in the 
 other, to be kept entire, without any diminution at all, 
 and only to be supplied and continued. But this is 
 matter of magnificence, rather to be commended than 
 required ; and we speak now of parts of leaniing sup- 
 plemental, and not of supererogation. 
 
 But for Modern Histories, whereof there are some 
 few very worthy, but the greater part beneath medio- 
 crity, leaving the care of foreign stories to foreign 
 states, because I \vill not be curiosus in aliena repub- 
 lican I cannot fail to represent to your majesty the un- 
 worthiness of the history of England in the main con- 
 tinuance thereof, and'fhc partiality and obliquity of 
 that of Scotland, in the latest and largest author that I 
 have seen ; supposing that it would be honour for your 
 majesty, and a work very memorable, if this island of 
 Great Britain, as it is now joined in monarchy for the 
 ages to come, so were joined in one history for the 
 times passed, after the manner of the sacred history, 
 which draweth down the story of the ten tribes, and of 
 the two tribes, as twins, together. And if it shall seem
 
 82 ADVANCiEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 that the greatne.ss of this work may make it less exactly 
 performed, there is an excellent period of a much 
 smaller compass of time, as to the story of England ; 
 that is to say, from the uniting of the roses to the 
 uniting of the kingdoms : a portion of time, 
 wherein, to my understanding, there hath heen the 
 rarest varieties, that in like number of successions of 
 any hereditary monarchy hath been known : for it 
 beginneth %\ith the mixed adoption of a crown by arms 
 and title; an entry by battle, an establishment by mar- 
 riage ; and therefore times answerable, like waters after 
 a tempest, full of working and swelling, though with- 
 out extremity of storm : but well passed through 
 by the wisdom of the pilot, being one of the most 
 sufficient kings of all the number. Then followcth 
 the reign of a king, whose actions, howsoever conducted, 
 had much intermixture with the affairs of Europe, 
 balancing and inclining them variably; in whose time 
 also began that great alteration in the state ecclesias- 
 tical, an action which seldom cometh upon the stage. 
 Then the reign of a minor : then an offer of an usur- 
 pation, though it was but as fehris ephemera: 
 then the reign of a queen matched with a foreigner : 
 then of a queen that lived solitary and unmarried, 
 and yet her government so masculine, as it had greater 
 impression and operation upon the states abroad than 
 it any ways received from thence. And now last, this 
 most happy and glorious event, tliat this island of 
 Britain, divided from all the world, should be united 
 in itself: and that oracle of rest, given to iRneas, " An- 
 tiquam exquirite matrem," should now be performed 
 and fulfilled upon the nations of England and Scot- 
 land, being now reunited in the ancient mother 
 name of Britain, as a full period of all instability 
 and peregrinations : so that as it cometh to pass in 
 massive bodies, that they have certain tre})idations 
 and waverings before they fix and settle ; so it seemeth 
 that by the providence of (iod this monarchy, before 
 it was to settle in your majesty and your generations, 
 in whicli I hope it is now established for ever, it had 
 these prelusive changes and varieties. 
 
 Vox Lives; I do find strange that these. timciL have
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 83 
 
 SO little esteemed the virtues of the times, as that the 
 writing' of lives should be no more frequent. For 
 although there be not many sovereign princes or ab- 
 solute commanders, and that states are most collected 
 into monarchies, yet there arc many worthy person- 
 ages that deserve better than dispersed report or barren 
 elegies. For herein the invention of one of the late 
 poets is proper, and doth well inrich the ancient fiction: 
 for he feigncth, that at the end of the thread or web 
 of every man's life there was a little medal containing 
 the ])erson's name, and that Time waited upon the 
 shears ; and as soon as the thread was cut, caught the 
 medals, and carried them to the river of Lethe ; and 
 about the bank there were many birds flying np and 
 down, that would get the medals, and carry them in 
 their beak a little while, and then let them fall into 
 the river : only there were a few swans, which if they 
 got a name, would carry it to a temple, where it was 
 consecrated. 
 
 And though many men, more mortal in their affec- 
 tions than in their bodies, do esteem desire of name 
 and memory but as a vanity and ventosity, 
 " Animi nil inagnoe laudis cgentes;" 
 which opinion cometh from the root, " non prius laudes 
 contempsimus, quam laudanda faccre desivimus :" yet 
 that will not alter Solomon's judgment, " JMemoria 
 justi cum laudibus, at impiorum nomen putrescet : " 
 the one flourisheth, the other cither consumeth to pre- 
 sent oblivion, or turneth to an ill odour. 
 
 And therefore in that stile or addition, w^hich is and 
 hath been long well received and brought in use, 
 " felicis memoriae, \nx memoria?, bonae memorise," we 
 do acknowledge that which Cicero saith, borrowing it 
 from Demosthenes, that " bona fama propria posscssio 
 defunctorum ; " which possession I cannot but note, 
 that in our times it lieth much waste, and that therein 
 there is a deficience. 
 
 For Narrations and Relations oi [mrtici\\a,Y actions, 
 there were also to "be wIsTied a greater diligence therein; 
 common way, before we come \vhere the ways part 
 for there is no great action but iiath some good pen 
 which attends it.
 
 84 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 And because it is an ability not common to write 
 a good history, as may well appear by the small number 
 of them ; yet if particularity of actions memorable 
 were but tolerably reported as they pass, the compiling 
 of a complete history of times might be the better 
 expected, when a wi-iter should arise that were fit for 
 it ; for the collection of such relations might be as a 
 nursery garden, whereby to plant a fair and stately 
 garden, when time should serve. 
 
 There is yet another partition of history which Cor- 
 nelius Tacitus maketh, which is not to be forgotten, 
 especially with that application which he accou- 
 plieth it withal. Annals and Journals : appropriating 
 to the former, matters of state ; and to the latter, acts 
 and accidents of a meaner nature. For giving but a 
 touch of certain magnificent buildings, he addeth, 
 " Cum ex dignitate populi Romani repertum sit, res 
 illustres annalibus, talia diurnis m'bis actis mandare." 
 . So as there is a kind of contemplative heraldry, as well 
 as civil. And as nothing doth derogate from the dig- 
 nity of a state more than confusion of degrees ; so it 
 , doth not a little embase the authority of an history, 
 ^ to intermingle matters of triumph, or matters of cere- 
 mony, or matters of novelty, with matters of state. 
 But the use of a journal hath not only been in the 
 history of time, but likewise in the history of persons, 
 and chiefly of actions ; for princes in ancient time 
 had, upon point of honour and policy both, journals 
 kept, what passed day by day : for we see the chro- 
 nicle which was read before Ahasuerus, when he could 
 not take rest, contained matters of affairs indeed, but 
 such as had passed in his own time, and very lately 
 before : but the journal of Alexander's house expressed 
 every small j)articularity even concerning his person 
 and court ; and it is yet an use well received in enter- 
 prises memorable, as expeditions of war, navigations, 
 and the like, to keep diaries of that which passeth 
 continually. 
 
 I cannot likewise be ignorant of a form of writing, 
 wliich some grave and wise men have used, containing 
 a scattered history of those actions whicli they have
 
 Book II. J Aj;VANCi:.MENT OF l.KAUNING. 85 
 
 thought worthy of memory, with politic discourse and 
 observation thereupon ; not incorporutetl into the his- 
 tory, but se})arately, and as the mere principal in their 
 intention ; which kind of ruminated history 1 think 
 more fit to place amongst books of policy, where- 
 of we sliall hereafter speak, tlian amongst books 
 of history : for it is the true office of history to repre- 
 sent the events themselves together with the counsels, 
 and to leave the observations and conclusions there- 
 upon to the liberty and faculty of every man's judg- 
 ment ; but mixtures are things irregular, whereof no 
 man can define. 
 
 So also is there another kind of history manifoldly 
 mixed, and that i&^Iiistoxy,cQf . <>t^ig!;Og$|l^ being 
 
 compounded of natural history, in respect of the regions 
 tlicmselves ; of history civil, in respect of the habita- 
 tions, regiments, and manners of the people ; and the 
 mathematics, in respect of the climates and configura- 
 tions tow^ards the heavens: which part of learning of all 
 others, in this later time, hath obtained most profi- 
 cieuce. For it may be truly affirmed to the honour 
 of these times, and in a virtuous emulation with anti- 
 quity, that this great building of the world had never 
 thorough lights made in it, till the age of us and our 
 fathers : for although they had knowledge of the 
 antipodes, 
 
 " Nosque ubi primus cquis oriens afflavit anhelis, 
 lllic sera rubens accendit lumina Vesper : " 
 
 yet that might be by demonstration, and not in fact ; 
 and if by travel, it requireth the voyage but of half 
 the globe. But to circle the earth, as the heavenly 
 bodies do, was not done or enterprised till these later 
 times : and therefore these times may justly bear in 
 their word, not only plus ultra in precedence of the 
 ancient non ultra, and imitabile fulmtn, in prece- 
 dence of the ancient non imitabile. fulmai. 
 
 " Demens qui nimbos ct non imitabile fulmcn," etc. 
 
 but likewise imitabile coilam : in respect of the many 
 memorable voyages, after the manner of heaven, about 
 the globe of the earth. 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 Si) ADVANCFiVIENT OF I.l.AUNINM. [Book II. 
 
 And this proficieiice in navigation and discoveries 
 may plant also an expectation of the farther proficience 
 and augmentation of all sciences ; because, it may 
 seem, they are ordained by God to be coevals, that is, 
 to meet in one age. For so the prophet Daniel, speak- 
 ing of the latter times, foretelleth ; " Plurimi per- 
 transibunt, et multiplex erit scientia ;" as if the open- 
 ness and thorough passage of the world, and the in- 
 crease of knowledge, were appointed to be in the same 
 ages, as we see it is already performed in great part ; 
 the learning of these latter times not much giying^lace 
 to theTornier tvvo periods or returns of Jearniug^- :fl*e 
 one of the Grecians, the other of the Romans. 
 
 HiSTOUY ecclesiastical receiveth the same divisions 
 with history civil ; bat/arther, in the proprietyHiei^f, 
 may be divided, into the History^joJLtlie^GlHH'eh, by a 
 general name ; !^istpry of Prophecy Ltin d History o f 
 Providence. . 
 ; ;"") The first describeth the times of the militant Church, 
 '" whether it be fluctuant, as the"aTirori!^oairT oTniove- ' 
 able, as the ark in the wilderness ; or at rest, as the ark 
 in the temple ; that is, the statej)f the Church in per- 
 secution, in remove, and in peace. This part I ought 
 in no sort to note as deficient, only I would the virtue 
 and sincerity of it were according to the mass and 
 quantity. But I am not now in hand with censures, 
 but with omissions. 
 Historia Thc sccoud, wliicli is history of prophecy, consisteth 
 
 rop etica. ^^ ^^^^^ rclativcs, the prophecy, and the accomplish- 
 ment ; and therefore the nature of such a work ought 
 to be, that evei^^ prophecy of the Scripture be sorted 
 with the event fulfilling the same, throughout the ages 
 of the world ; both for the better confirmation of faith, 
 and for thc better illumination of thc Church touch- 
 ing those parts of prophecies which are yet unfulfilled : 
 allowing nevertheless that latitude which is agreeable 
 and familiar unto divine prophecies, being of the na- 
 ture of their Author, with whom a thousand years are 
 but as one day, and therefore arc not fulfilled punc- 
 tually at once, but have springing and germinant
 
 Ph)o\< ir.] ADVANCKMKNT OF LKARMXC. S7 
 
 accomplishment throughout many ages; though the 
 heiglit or fuhiess of them may refer to some one age. 
 
 This is a work which I find deficient, but is to be 
 done with wisdom, sobriety, and reverence, or not at all. 
 
 The third, which is history^fjjTDjddencc^QiLtaineth 
 that excellent correspondence wliich is between God's 
 re\'e alecr \vill and his . acq- c t will : which though it be 
 so obscure, as for the most part it is not legible to the 
 natural man ; no, nor many times to those that behold 
 it from the tabernacle ; yet at some times it pleaseth 
 God, for our better establishment, and the confuting of 
 those which are as without God in the world, to write it 
 in such text andcapitalletters,that,as the prophet saith, 
 " he that runneth by may read it;" that is, mere sensual 
 persons, which hasten by God's judgments, and never 
 bend or fix their cogitations upon them, are neverthe- 
 less in their passage and race urged to discern it. j Such 
 are tlie notable events and examples of God's judg- 
 ments, chastisements, deliverances, and blessingsjj and 
 this is a work which hath passed through the labours 
 of many, and therefore I cannot present as omitted. 
 
 There are also other parts of learning which are 
 Appendices to history ; for all the exterior proceedings 
 of man consist of words and deeds ; whereof history 
 doth properly receive and retain in memory the deeds ; 
 and if words, yet but as inducements and passages to 
 deeds ; so are there other books and writings, which are 
 appropriate to the custody and receipt of words only, 
 which likewise are of three sorts ; Orations, Letters, 
 and Brief Speeches or Sayings. 
 
 Grations are pleadings, speeches of counsel, lauda- 
 tives, invectives, apologies, reprehensions ; orations of 
 formality or ceremony, and the like. 
 
 Letters are according to all the variety of occasions, 
 advertisements, advices, directions, propositions, peti- 
 tions, commendatory, expostulatory, satisfactory ; of 
 compliment, of pleasure, of discourse, and all other 
 passages of action. And such as are written from wise 
 men, are of all the words of man, in my judgment, 
 the best ; for they arc more natural than orations and 
 public speeches, and more advised than conferences or 
 
 G 2 
 
 ^ 1
 
 88 ADVANCEMENT Ol' LEAIINING. [Book II. 
 
 present speeches. So again letters of affiiirs from 
 such as manage them or are privy to them, are of all 
 others the best instructions for history, and to a dili- 
 gent reader the best histories in themselves. 
 
 For Apophthegms, it is a great loss of that book of 
 Cassar's ; for as his history, and those few letters of his 
 which we have, and those apophthegms which were of 
 his own, excel all mens else, so I suppose would his 
 collection of apophthegms ha\'c done ; for as for those 
 which are collected by otliers, either I have no taste 
 in such matters, or else their choice hath not been 
 happy. But upon these three kinds of writings I do 
 not insist, because I have no deficiencies to propound 
 concerning them. 
 
 Thus much therefore concerning History, which is 
 that part of learning which answercth to one of the 
 cells, domiciles, or offices of the mind of man, which 
 is that of the Memory. 
 
 Poesy is a part of learning in measure of words 
 for the most part restrained, but in all other points 
 extremely licensed, and doth truly refer to the imagi- 
 gination ; which being not tied to the laws of matter, 
 may at pleasure join that which nature hath severed, 
 and sever that which nature hath joined, and so make 
 unlawful matches and divorces of things, Pictoribus 
 at(jue poctis,etc. Jt is taken in two scu&eSj in re- 
 spect of words, or matter ; in the first sense, it is but 
 a character of stile, and belongeth to arts of speech, 
 and is not pertinent for the present : in the latter, it 
 is, as hath been said, one of the principal portions of 
 learning, and is nothing else but feignecyii^toryj_wJ]ijclL-_ 
 inay be stiled as well in prose as in verse. 
 
 The use of this feigned history hath been to give 
 some shadow of satisfaction to the mind of man in 
 those points wherein the nature of things doth deny 
 it, the world being in })ioportion inferior to the soul ; 
 by reason wliereof there is, agreeable to the spirit of 
 man, a more ample greatness, a more exact goodness, 
 and a more absolute variety, tlian can be found in the 
 nature of things, 'i'lierefore, because the acts or
 
 15uok II. J ADVANCEMENT OF MCAUNIXG. 89 
 
 events of true history have not tliat magnitude which 
 satisiieth the mind of iiiaii, poesy feigucth. acts__aiid 
 eve nts gro^ttcr and more heroical i_b ecausc true history 
 ])ropoundetli the successes and issues of actions not so 
 agreeable to the merits of virtue and vice, therefore 
 poesy feigns them more just in retribution, and more 
 according to revealed providence : because true history 
 representetli actions and events more ordinary, and less 
 interchanged; tliereforc poesy endueth them vvitli 
 more rareness, and more unexpected and alternative 
 ^'ariations : so as it apuearcth th at pgesj:j;eryc.tli and 
 conferreth to nKUj,i5aminity5 nioralityj and to. d.clcxiUl- 
 tion.2~AlTt!''^Tere^ol•e It was ever thoiiglit to have some 
 participation of divinencss, because it doth raise and 
 erect the mind, by submitting the shews of things to 
 tlie desires of the mind ; whereas reason doth buckle 
 and bow the mind urito the nature of things. 
 
 And we see, that by these insinuations and congrui- 
 ties witli man's nature and pleasure, joined also with 
 the agreement and consort it hutli with ran sic, it hath 
 had access and estimation in rude times and barbarous 
 regions, where other learning stood excluded. 
 
 The _di\ ision of j[)oesv, j.vhieh is aptest in tb.e pro- 
 ])riety thereof, besides those divisions which are com- 
 mon unto it with history; as feigned clironicles, feigned 
 lives, and the appendices of history, as feigned epistles, 
 feigned orations, and the rest, is into Poesy Narrative, 
 RepresentativQj. and xMlusive. 
 
 The ^^arralive is.a. incLaiiiiiiiition of history, with 
 the excesses before remembered, choosing for subject 
 commonly w-ars and love ; rarely state, and sometimes 
 pleasure or mirth. 
 
 Representative is as a visible history, and is an 
 image of action s as If they were prcsciiT, as history 
 is of actions in nature as they are, that is, past. 
 
 Allusive or parabolical, is a narration ap[)licd only 
 to express some special purpose or conceit ; which 
 latter Iciud of parabolical wisdom was much riiore in 
 use in the ancient times, a^j2X_yiyJiLble^ pf-Ji'^sop. nnd 
 the brief sentences of the Seven, and the use of hiero- 
 glyphics, may appear. And the cause was, for that it
 
 90 ADVANCF.MKNT OF LEAllNING. [Book II. 
 
 was then of necessity to express any point of reason, 
 
 which was more sharp or subtile than the vulgar, in 
 
 that manner, because men in those times wanted both 
 
 variety of examples and subtilty of conceit : and^s 
 
 hieroglyphics were J)efgre.j£,ttfira^.sa-parabljes_jE^£re 
 
 before,.argumeut.s. And nevertheless now, and at all 
 
 times, they do retain much life and vigour, because 
 
 reason cannot be so sensible, nor examples so fit. 
 
 /'" But there remaineth yet another use of poesy para- 
 
 I bolical, opposite to that which we last mentioned : for 
 
 / that tendeth to demonstrate and illustrate that which 
 
 I is taught or delivered, and this other to retire and ob- 
 
 1 scure it : that is, when the secrets and mysteries of 
 
 V religion, policy, or philosophy, are involved in fables 
 
 and parables. 
 
 Of this in divine poesy, we see the use is authorised. 
 In heathen poesy, we see, the exposition of fables doth 
 fall out sometimes witli great felicity, as in the fable 
 that the giants being overthrown in their war against 
 the gods, the Earth their mother, in revenge thereof, 
 brought forth Fame: 
 " Illam Terra parens ira irritata deorum, 
 Extremam, ut perhibent, Coeo Enceladoque sororem 
 Progenuit." 
 
 Expounded, that when princes and monarchies have sup- 
 pressed actual and open rebels, then the malignity of 
 people, which is the mother of rebellion, doth bring 
 forth libels and slanders, and taxations of the states, 
 which is of the same kind with rebellion, but more 
 feminine. So in the fable, that the rest of the gods 
 having conspired to bind Jupiter, Pallas called Bria- 
 reus with his hundred hands to his aid : expounded, 
 that monarchies need not fear any curbing of their 
 absoluteness by mighty subjects, as long as by wisdom 
 they keep the hearts of the people, who will be sure to 
 come in on their side. iSo in the fable, that Achilles was 
 brought up under Chiron the Centaur, who was part a 
 man and part a beast : cxi)ounded ingeniously, but 
 corruptly by Machiavcl, that it bclongeth to the edu- 
 cation and discipline of princes, to know as well how
 
 Book II.] AI)VANCJ:i\JENT Ol LEARNING. 91 
 
 to })lay tlie part of tlic lion in violence, and the fox in 
 guile, as of the man in virtue and justice. 
 
 Nevertheless in many the like encounters, I do rather 
 think that tlic fable was first, and the exposition de- 
 vised, than that the moral was first, ajjidjhereujiou 
 th e fable frame d. For 1 find it was an ancient vanity 
 in Chrysippus7"that troubled himself with great con- 
 tention to fasten the assertions of the Stoics upon the 
 fictions of the ancient poets ; but yet that all the fables 
 and fictions of the poets were but pleasure and not 
 figure, I interpose no opinion. 
 
 Surely of those poets which are now extant, even 
 Homer himself, notwithstanding he was made a kind 
 of Scripture by the latter schools of the Grecians, yet 
 1 should without any difficulty pronounce, that his 
 fables liad no such inwardness in his own meaning ; 
 but what they miglit Iiavc, upon a more original tra- 
 dition, is not easy to affirm, for he was not the in- 
 ventor of many of them. 
 
 In this third part of learning, which is poesy, I | 
 can report no deficience. For being as a plant that ■ 
 cdfifefli of the lust of the earth, without a formal seed, 
 it hath sprung up and spread abroad more than any 
 other kind : but to ascribe unto it that which is due, 
 for the expression of aflfectjous^ passions, corruptions, 
 and customs, \ve are beholden to poets more than to 
 tTiejJKIosopTiers w^^^ and eloquence, 
 
 no t mu ch less than to orators harangues. But it is 
 not good to stay too long in the theatre. Let us now 
 pass on to the judicial place or palace of the mind, which 
 we are to approach and view with more reverence and 
 attention. 
 
 The knowledge of man is as the waters, some I 
 descendmg_from above, and so me springin g froniTie- 1 
 neathjntneoiie informed by the lig'ht ornature,~TlTie 
 other inspired by divine revelation. 
 
 The light of nature consisteth in the notions of the 
 mind, and the reports of the senses ; for as for know- 
 ledge which man receiveth by teaching, it isLCumula-
 
 92 ADVANCEME^^T OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 live, and not original, as in a water, that, besides his 
 own spring-head, is fed with other springs and streams. 
 
 I So then, according to these two differing iUumiriatiojis 
 
 >} or origmals, knowledge is first of all divided -into 
 
 i Divinity and Pliilosoi>hy. 
 -^"^j^ In philosophy, the contemplations of man do either 
 
 ff penetrate unto God, or are circumferred to nature, or 
 are reflected or reverted upon himself. Out of which 
 several inquiries tlierc do arise three knowledges,JDi- 
 vine philosophy^ Natural philosojihy^ ahd HmTian_ 
 philosophy or liumanity. For all things arc marked 
 and stamped with this triple character, of the power 
 of God, the difference of nature, and the use of man. 
 But because the distributions and partitions of know- 
 ledge are not like several lines that meet in one angle, 
 and so touch but in a point ; but are like branches of 
 a tree, that meet in a stem, which hath a dimension 
 and quantity of entireness and continuance, before it 
 come to discontinue and break itself into arms and 
 boughs ; therefore it is good, before we enter into the 
 former distribution, to ..erejct and coniStitiiie ong^ni- 
 versal science, by the name of Phlloiiophui^jjjna^ 
 primitive or summary philosophy, as the maiii and 
 common way, before we come where the ways part 
 and divide themselves ; which science, whether I 
 should report as deficient or no, I stand doubtful. 
 
 For I find a certain rhapsody of natural theology, 
 and of divers parts of logic ; and of that other part 
 of natural philosophy, which concerneth the princii)les; 
 and of that other part of natural philosophy, which 
 concerneth the soul or spirit ; all these strangely 
 commixed and confused : but being examined, it 
 seemeth to me rather a depredation of other sciences, 
 advanced and exalted unto some height of terms, 
 than any thing solid or substantive of itself. 
 
 Nevertheless I cannot be ignorant of the distinc- 
 tion which is current, that the same things are han- 
 dled but in several respects. As for exam.ple, that 
 logic considereth of many things as they are in 
 notion; and tliis ]»liil(i.sop]i)% as tliey are in nature ; 
 the one in appearance, the other in existence : but I find
 
 Book 11.] ADVANCEINIKNT OF hEARNINCJ. 98 
 
 this clifFerence better made than pursued. For if tliey 
 had considered quantity, similitude, diversity, and the 
 rest of those external characters of things, as philoso- 
 phers, and in nature ; tlieir inquiries must of force 
 have been of a far other kind than they arc. 
 
 For doth any of them, in handling quantity, speak 
 of the force of union, how, and how far it multi})lieth 
 virtue ? l^oth any give the reason, why some things 
 in nature are so common and in so great mass, and 
 others so rare, and in so small quantity ? Doth any, 
 in handling similitude and diversity, assign the cause 
 why iron should not move to iron, wliich is more like, 
 but move to the loadstone, which is less like ? Why, in 
 all diversities of things, there should be certain parti- 
 ciples in nature, which are almost ambiguous, to which 
 kind they sliould be referred ? But there is a mere 
 and deep silence touching the nature and operation 
 of those common adjuncts of things, as in nature ; 
 and only a resuming and repeating of the force and 
 use of them, in speech or argument. 
 
 Therefore because in a writing of this nature I avoid 
 all subtilty, my meaning touching this origin al_or_uni- 
 versal ph ilosophy is thus, in a plain and gross descrip-" 
 tion by negative ; " That it be a receptacle for all '"^'■<^ ^^J 
 such profitable observations and axioms, as fall not \ "^^ 
 within the compass of any of the special parts of phi- 1 
 losophy or sciences, but are more common and of a \ 
 higher stage." 
 
 Now that there are many of that kind, need not to 
 be doubted. For example : is not the rule, " Si inac- 
 qualibus a?qualia addas, omnia erunt inaequalia," an 
 axiom as well of justice as of the mathematics ? And 
 is there not a true coincidence between commutative 
 and distributive justice, and arithmetical and geo- 
 metrical proportion ? Is not that other rule, " Qua? in 
 eodem tertio conveniunt, et inter se conveniunt," a 
 rule taken from the mathematics, but so potent in 
 logic, as all syllogisms are built upon it ? Is not the 
 observation, " Omnia mutantur, nil interit," a con- 
 templation in philosophy thus, that the (juantum of 
 nature is eternal ? iu natural theology thus ; that it
 
 94 ADVANCEMENT Ol' LEARNING. [Book IJ. 
 
 requiretli the same omnipotence to make somewhat 
 nothing, which at the first made nothing somewhat ? 
 according to the Scripture, " Didici quod omnia opera, 
 quae fecit Deus, perseverent in perpetuum ; non pos- 
 sumus eis quicquam addcre, nee auferre." 
 
 Is not the ground, which jMachiavel wisely and 
 largely discourseth concerning governments, that the 
 way to establish and preserve them, is to reduce them 
 ad principia ; a rule in religion and nature, as well as 
 in civil administration ? Was not the Persian magic 
 a reduction or correspondence of the principles and 
 architectures of nature, to the rules and policy of go- 
 vernments ? Is not the precept of a musician, to fall 
 from a discord or harsh accord upon a concord or sweet 
 accord, alike true in affection ? Is not the trope of 
 music, to avoid or slide from the close or cadence, 
 common with the trope of rhetoric, of deceiving expec- 
 tation ? Is not the delight of the quavering upon a 
 stop in music, the same with the playing of light 
 upon the water ? 
 
 " Splendet tremulo sub lumine poiitus." 
 
 Are not the organs of the senses of one kind with the 
 organs of reflection, the eye Avith a glass, the ear with 
 a cave or strait determinetl and bounded ? Neither 
 are these only similitudes, as men of narrow observation 
 may conceive them to be, but tlie same footsteps of 
 nature, treading or printing upon several subjects or 
 matters. 
 rhiiosophia This science therefore, as I understand it, Lmay 
 prima, sivej^jg^ly j-q-jQj.^ as deficient ; for I see sometimes the 
 gdeniTa rum! profoundcr sort of wits, in handling some particular 
 argument, will now and then draw a bucket of water 
 out of this well for their present use ; but the spring- 
 head thereof seemeth to me not to have been visited ; 
 being of so excellent use, both for the disclosing of 
 nature, and the abridgement of art. 
 
 This science being therefore first placed.AS_ajCom- 
 mon parent, like unto Berccyntliia, which had so much 
 heavenly issue, " Onmes coelicolas, omnes supera alta 
 tenentes," we may return to the former distribution of 
 the three philosophies, divine, natural, and human. 
 
 /
 
 Book II.] AJ3\"AXCEME]ST OF J.EAllNING. 05 
 
 And as conccnuilg.„cUYiim_.pMlQsophy, or Natural 1^ 
 Theology, it is that knowledge or rucUmeut of know- r'^^i^^^vO ^ 
 le clgcTonc erning God, which may be obtained by the -a^V^^ 
 contemplation of TiTs crcstnres ; which knowledge may 
 bcTtrniy teriTicd divine, in respect of the object, and 
 natural in respect of the light. 
 
 Tliejbouiuls of this knowledge are, that it sufficeth 
 to convince atlieism, but not to inform religion ; and 
 therefore there Xvas'iiever miracle wrought by God to 
 convert an atheist, because the light of nature might 
 have led him to confess a God : but miracles have 
 been wrought to convert idolaters and the supersti- 
 tious, because no light of nature extendeth to declare 
 the will and true worship of God. 
 
 For as all works do shew forth the power and skill 
 of the workman, and not his image, so it is of the 
 works of God, which do sliew the omnipotency and 
 wisdom of the Maker, but not his image : and therefore 
 therein the heathen opinion differeth from the sacred 
 truth ; for they supposed the world to be the image of 
 God, and man to be an extract or compendious image 
 of the world ; but the Scriptures never vouchsafe to 
 attribute to tlie world that honour, as to be the image 
 of God, but only the w'ork of his hands ; neither do 
 they speak of any other image of God, but man ; 
 wherefore by the contemplation of nature, to induce 
 and inforce the acknowledgement of God, and to 
 demonstrate his power, providence, and goodness, is 
 an excellent argument, and hath been excellently 
 handled by divers. 
 
 But on the other side, out of the contemplation of 
 nature or ground of human knowledges, to induce any 
 verity or persuasion concerning the points of faith, is 
 in my judgment not safe : "Dafidei, quae fidei sunt." 
 For the heathen themselves conclude as much in that 
 excellent and divine fable of the golden chain ; 
 " That men and gods were not able to draw Jupiter 
 down to the earth ; but contrariwise, Jupiter was able 
 to draw them up to heaven." 
 
 So as we ought not to attempt to draw down or 
 submit thc^mysterLcs of God to our reason ; but con-
 
 96 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 trariwise, to raise and advance our reason to the 
 divine truth. So as in this part of knowledge, 
 touching divine philosophy, I am so far from noting 
 any deficiencc, as I rather note~an excess ; wherennto 
 I have digressed, tjccause of the extreme prejudice 
 which hoth religion and philosophy hath received, and 
 may receive, by being commixed together ; as that 
 which undoubtedly will make an heretical religion, 
 and an imaginary and fabulous philosophy. 
 
 Otherwise it is of the nature of angels and spirits, 
 which is an appendix of theology, both divine and 
 natural, and is neither inscrutable nor interdicted : for 
 although the Scripture saith, " Let no man deceive 
 you in sublime discourse touching the worship of 
 angels, pressing into that he kno^veth not," etc. yet 
 notwithstanding, if you observe well that precept, it 
 may appear thereby that there be two things only 
 forbidden, adoration of them, and opinion fantastical 
 of tliem, either to extol them farther than appertaincth 
 to the degree of a creature,or toextol a mau'sknowledge 
 of them farther than he hath ground. But the sober 
 and grounded inquiry, which may arise out of the pas- 
 sages of Holy Scriptures, or out of the gradations of 
 nature, is not restrained. So of degenerate and re- 
 volted spirits, the conversing with them, or the em- 
 ployment of them, is prohibited, much more any 
 veneration towards them. But the contemplation or 
 science of their nature, their power, their illusions, 
 either by Scriptui'c or reason, is a part of spiritual wis- 
 dom. For so the apostle saith, " We are not ignorant 
 of his stratagems." And it is no more unlawful to in- 
 quire the nature of evil spirits, than to inquire the 
 force of poisons in nature, or the nature of sin and vice 
 in morality. But this part, touching angels and spirits, 
 I cannot note as deficient, for many have occupied 
 themselves in it : I may rather challenge it, in many 
 of the writers thereof, as fabidous and fantastical. 
 
 Leaving therefore divine pliiloso])liy or natural 
 
 ~ thj^9gy7"iiof di\iiiity, or inspired theology, wTiicli 
 
 we resenc i'^i" ^^A^-^^^t pf all, as the haven aiid JiabbaE'th
 
 Book II.] advance3ii:nt of leaunixc;. 97 
 
 of all man's coiitcinplations, wc will now proceed to 
 Natural Philoso})liy, ' 
 
 If tTTcii it be true that J )emocritus said, " That the 
 truth of nature licth hid in certain deep mines and 
 caves:" and if it be true likewise, that the alchemists do 
 so much inculcate, tliat Vulcan is a second nature, and 
 imitateth that dexterously and compendiously, which 
 nature w'orketh by ambages and length of time ; it were 
 good to divide natural philosophy into the mine and the 
 furnace, and to make t\vo professions or occupations of 
 natural philosophers, some to be pioneers, and some 
 smiths ; some to dig, and some to refine and hammer : 
 and surely I do best allow of a division of that kind, 
 though in more familiar and scholastical terms: namely, 
 that these be thej;wp parts of uatui'al philosophy, the 
 inquisition of causcs^j _aiid ^ the productm^^ effects : 
 specuTatlve and^operative ; natural science, and natural 
 prudence. 
 
 For as in civil matters there is a wisdom of discourse, 
 and a wisdom of direction ; so is it in natural. And 
 here I will make a request, that for the latter, or at 
 least for a part thereof, I may revive and reintegrate 
 the misapplied and abused name of natural magic, 
 which, in the true sense, is but natural wisdom, or 
 natural prudence ; taken according to the ancient ac- 
 ception, purged from vanity and superstition. 
 
 Now although it be true, and I know it well, that 
 there is an intercourse between causes and effects, so 
 as both these knowledges, speculative and operative, 
 have a great connexion between themselves ; yet be- 
 cause all true and fruitful natural philosophy hath a 
 double scale or ladder, ascendent and descendent ; as- 
 cending from experiments, to the invention of causes ; 
 and descencUng from causes, to the invention of new 
 experiments ; therefore I judge it most requisite that 
 these two parts be severally considered and handled. 
 
 Na tJiy^l sciea^ flw or theory, is divided into Physic f\-« 
 and jNIetapihysic.; wlierein I desire it may be conceived, 5^t< ^ 
 that I use the word jMetaphysic in a differing sense 
 from that that is ix^ceiyed: and, in like manner, I doubt 
 not but it will easily appear to men of judgment, that
 
 9S ADVANCEMENT OF LEAllXlXG. [Book II. 
 
 in this and other particulars, wheresoever mycouception 
 and notion may differ from the ancient, yet I am stu- 
 dious to keep the ancient terms. 
 
 For hoping well to deliver myself from mistaking, 
 by the order and perspicuous expressing of that I do 
 propound ; I am otherwise zealous and affectionate to 
 recede as little from antiquity, either in terms or 
 opinions, as may stand with truth, and the proficience 
 of knowledge. 
 
 And herein I cannot a little marvel at the philoso- 
 pher Aristotle that did proceed in such a spirit of 
 difference and contradiction towards all antiquity, 
 undertaking not only to frame new words of science 
 at pleasure, but to confound and extinguish all ancient 
 wisdom : insomuch as he never nameth or mentioneth 
 an ancient author or opinion, but to confute and re- 
 prove ; wherein for glory, and drawing followers and 
 disciples, he took the right course. 
 
 For certainly there cometh to pass, and hath place 
 in human truth, that which was noted and pronounced 
 in the highest truth, " Veni in nomine Patris, nee re- 
 cipitis me ; si quis venerit in nomine suo, eum reci- 
 pietis." But in this divine aphorism, considering to 
 whom it was applied, namely to Antichrist, the highest 
 deceiver, we may discern well, that the coming in a 
 man's own name, without regard of antiquity or pater- 
 nity, is no good sign of truth, although it be joined with 
 the fortune and success of an " Eum recipietis." 
 
 But for this excellent person, Aristotle, I will think 
 of him, that he learned that humour of his scholar, 
 with whom, it seemeth, he did emulate, the one to 
 conquer all opinions, as the other to conquer all na- 
 tions : wherein nevertheless, it may be, he may at 
 some mens hands, that are of a bitter disposition, get 
 a like title as his scholar did. 
 
 So 
 
 Felix terrarum praedo, non utile mundo 
 Editus exemplum," etc. 
 
 " Felix doctrinae praedo." 
 But to me, on the other side, that do desire as much 
 as lieth in my pen to ground a sociable intercourse
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 99 
 
 between antiquity and pioficience, it scemeth best to 
 keep way \yith an ticjmtY, i/sgue adorns vJUJcV there- 
 fore to retain tne^ncicnt ternis, though I sometimes 
 al terthe uses and definitions ; according to the mode- 
 rate proceeding in civil government, where, although 
 there be some alteration, yet that holdeth which Ta- 
 citus wisely notcth, "eadem magistratuum vocabula." 
 
 To return therefore to the use and acccption of 
 the term metaphysic, as I do now understand the word; 
 it appeareth, by that which hath been already said, 
 ih2Lt I mi^ni\^liilosuphia prima, jm\};^^ i w 
 
 and metaphysic7whicinTefetofore have been confouiided \ '^ 
 as oixe»-io_lie--t3vjQ,jlistiu.Qt things. . For the one I have , 
 made as a parent, or common ancestor, to all know- 
 ledge ; and the other I have now brought in, as a I 
 branch, or descendent, of natural science. It appear- 
 eth likewise that I have assigned to summary philo- 
 sophy the common principles and axioms which are 
 promiscuous and indifferent to several sciences : I have 
 assigned unto it likewise the inquiry touching the 
 operation of the relative and adventive characters of 
 essences, as quantity, similitude, diversity, possibility, 
 and the rest ; with this distinction and provision ; 
 that they be handled as they have efficacy in nature, 
 and not logically. Itajipcareth likewise, that natiu'al 
 theology, which heretofore hath been handled con- 
 fusedly with metaphysic, I have inclosed and bounded 
 by itself. 
 
 It is therefore now a question, what is left remaining 
 for metaphysic ; wherein I may without prejudice 
 preserve thus much of the conceit of antiquity, that 
 physic should contemplate that which is inherent inj 
 maJEEElTTaud therefore transitory ; and metaphysicj 
 that whiclijis abstracted and fixed. r 
 
 And again, that physic should handle that which 
 supposeth in nature only a being and moving ; and 
 metaphysic should handle that which supposeth far- 
 ther in nature a reason, understanding, and platform. 
 But the difference perspicuously expressed, is most 
 familiar and sensible. 
 
 For as we divided natural philosophy in general
 
 c^ 
 
 100 ADVANCEMENT OF LEAllNING. [Book II. 
 
 into the inquiry of causes, and productions of effects ; 
 so that part which concerneth the inquiry of causes, 
 we do subdivide according to the received and sound 
 division of causes ; the one part, vvli ich is phygic, 
 / inquireth and handleth the material and^efficient 
 I causes; and the other, whrcli^^^^ietyoj^^ic^^^ 
 the formal and final causes. 
 
 Physic, taking it acconling to the derivation, and 
 
 not according to our idiom for medicine, is situate in 
 
 a middle term, or distance, b etween natura l hi<^tory and 
 
 i metaphysics J'oLP^turalh istoryJ£scribeth the variet y 
 
 f of things, physic the causes, but vaiiaBIe^o/respective 
 
 I pauses ; and metaphysic, the fixed and constant causes. 
 
 " Limus ut hie durescit, et h^c ut cera quiescir, 
 
 Uno eodemque igni." 
 
 Fire is the cause of induration, but respective to clay : 
 fire is the cause of colliquation, but respective to wax. 
 But fire is no constant cause either of induration or 
 colliquation : so then the physical causes are but the 
 efficient and the matter. 
 
 Physic hath three parts, whereof two respect nature 
 united or collected, the third contemplateth nature 
 diffused or distributed. 
 
 Nature is collected either into one entire total, or 
 else into the same principles or seeds. So as the first 
 doctrine is touching the contexture or configuration of 
 things, as de mumlo, cle uni'versitate rerum. 
 
 The second is the doctrine concerning the principles 
 or originals of things. 
 
 The third is the doctrine concerning all variety and 
 particularity of things ; whether it be of the differing 
 substances, or their differing qualities and natures ; 
 whereof there needeth no enumeration, this part being 
 but as a gloss, or paraphrase, that attendeth upon the 
 text of natural history. 
 
 Of these three I cannot report any as deficient. In 
 what truth or perfection they are handled, I make not 
 now any judgment : but tliey are parts of knowledge 
 not deserted by the labour of man. 
 
 For Metaphysic, we have a.ssigned uutoit the in- 
 ((uiry of formal and final causes; which assignation, 
 
 ^^
 
 Book ir.J ADVANCEMKNT OF LKAllNlXti. lUl 
 
 as to the former of tlicm, may seem to be nugatory and 
 void, because of the received and inveterate opinion, 
 that the inquisition of man is not competent to find 
 out essential form.^, or true differences : of which 
 opinion we will take this liold, that the invention of 
 forms is of all other parts of knowledge the worthiest 
 to be sought, if it be possible to be found. 
 
 As for thepossibility,tlicyare illdiscoverersthattliink 
 lliere is no land, when they can see nothing but sea. 
 
 But it is manifest, tliat Plato, in his opinion of ideas, 
 as one tliat had a wit of elevation situate as upon a 
 cliff, did descry, " T hat fo rinsjffiiiL'C-llia-trnc-Qljjcct. of ^ ^ 
 knowledge ; " but lost the real fruit of his opinion, 
 by considering of forms as absolutely abstracted from 
 matter, and not confined and determined by matter ; 
 and so timiiiig his opinion upon tlieolog^j wherewith 
 all his natural pliilosophy is infected. 
 
 But if any man shall keep a continual watchful and 
 severe eye upon action, operation, and the use of know- 
 ledge, he may advise and take notice what are the 
 forms, the disclosures whereof are fruitful and impor- 
 tant to the state of man. For as to the forms of sub- 
 stances, man only except, of whom it is said, " Forma- 
 vit hominem de limo terrse, et spiravit in faciem ejus 
 spiraculum vita?," and not as of all other creatures, 
 " Producant aquas, producat terra ; " the forms of sub- 
 stances, I say, as they are now by compounding and 
 transplanting multiplied, are so perplexed, as they 
 are not to be inquired ; no more than it were either 
 possible or to purpose, to seek in gross the forms 
 of those sounds which make words, which by compo- 
 sition and transposition of letters are infinite. 
 
 But, on the other side, to inquire the form of those 
 sounds or voices, which make simple letters, is easily 
 comprehensible ; and being known, induceth and ma- 
 nifesteth the forms of words, which consist and are 
 compounded of them. In the same manner to inquii-e 
 the form of a lion, of an oak7 of gold ; iiay, of water, 
 of air, is a vain pursuit ; but to inq\iirc the forms 
 of sense, of voluntary motion, of vegetation, of co- 
 lours,' of "gravity and levity, of density, of tenuity, of 
 VOL. I. H
 
 102 ADVANCEMENT OF I-EAIINING. [Book II. 
 
 heat;, of cold, aud all other natures and qualities, which, 
 
 like an alphabet, are not many, and of which the 
 
 essences, upheld by matter, of all creatures do consist : 
 
 to inquire, I say, the true forms of tlicse, is that part 
 
 of metaphysic which we now define of. 
 
 I Not biit that^physic doth-make, inquiry, and take 
 
 consideration of the same natm-es:. but howT^insly 
 
 as to the material and efficient causes of them, amT 
 
 not as to the forms. For example ; if the caTiSc~^f 
 
 whiteness in snow or froth be inquired, and it lie ren- 
 
 j dered thus ; that the subtile intermixture of air and 
 
 f water is the cause, it is well rendered ; but neverthe- 
 
 I less, is this the form of wdiiteness ? No ; but it is the 
 
 * efficient, which is ever but vehkulum forma:. 
 
 Metaphy. This part of metaphysic I do not find laboured and 
 
 Si^et fi- perfornied^ whereat--X ^narvel not : because I hold it 
 
 nibus rerun). Hot possiblc to be invented by that course of invention 
 
 which hath been used, in regard that men, which is the 
 
 root of all error, have made too untimely a departure, 
 
 and too remote a recess from particulars. 
 
 But the use of this part of metaphysic which I report 
 as deficient, is of the rest the most excellent in two 
 respects : the one, because it is the duty and virtue of 
 all knowledge to abridge the infinity of individual 
 experience, as much as the conception of truth will 
 permit, and to remedy the complaint of vita brevis, 
 ars longa ; which is performed by uniting the notions 
 / and conceptions of sciences : for knowledges arenas 
 pyramids, whereof history is the basis. So of natural 
 philosophy, the basis is natural history; the stage next 
 the basis is physic ; the stage next the vertical point 
 is metaphysic. As for the vertical point, " Opus quod 
 operatur Deus a principio usque ad finem," the sum- 
 mary law of nature, we know not whether man's in- 
 quiry can attain unto it. But these three be the true 
 stages of knowledge, and arc to them that are de- 
 praved no better than the giants hills. 
 Ter sunt conati imponere Pelio Ossam 
 Scilicet, atque Ossae frondosiini involvero Olympum. 
 
 But to those which refer all things to the glory of 
 God, they are as the three acclamations, Sanete^sanctd
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 1 0'i 
 
 sancte ; holy in tlic description, or dilatation of his 
 works ; holy in the connexion or concatenation of them ; 
 and holy in the union of them in a perj)ctual and uni- 
 form law. 
 
 And therefore the speculation was excellent in Par- 
 menides and Plato, although but a speculation in them, 
 that all things by scale did ascend to unity. So then 
 always tliat knowledge is worthiest, which is charged 
 with the least multi})licity ; which appeareth to be 
 metaphysic, as that which considereth the simple forms 
 or differences of things, which are few in number, and 
 the degrees and co-ordinations whereof make all this 
 variety. 
 
 The second respect which valueth and commendeth 
 this part of metai^hysic is, that it doth enfranchise 
 the power of man unto the greatest liberty and possi- 
 bility of works and effects. For physic carrieth men 
 in narrow and restrained ways, subject to many acci- 
 dents of impediments, imitating the ordinary flexu- 
 ous courses of nature ; but " latae undique sunt sa- 
 pientibus vise : " to sapience, wliich was anciently de- 
 fined to be " rerum divinarum ct humanarum scientia," 
 there is ever choice of means : for physical causes give 
 light to new invention in simili materia. But who- 
 soever knoweth any form, knoweth the utmost possi- 
 bility of super-inducing that nature upon any variety 
 of matter, and so is less restrained in operation, either 
 to the basis of the matter, or the condition of the effi- 
 cient : which kind of knowledge Solomon likewise, 
 though in a more divine sense, elegantly describeth : 
 " Non arctabuntur grcssus tui, ct currens non habebis 
 offendiculum." The ways of sapience are not much 
 liable either to particularity or chance. 
 
 The second part of metaphysic is the inquiry of 
 final causes, which I am moved to report, not as 
 omitted, but as misplaced ; and yet if it were but a 
 fault in order, I would not speak of it : for order is 
 matter of illustration, but pertaineth not to the sub- 
 stance of sciences. But this misplacing hath caused 
 a deficience, or at least a great imi)roiicience in the 
 sciences themselves. For the handling of final causes, 
 
 H 2
 
 104 advance]me:nt of learning. [Book II. 
 
 mixed with the rest in physical inquiries, hath inter- 
 cepted the severe and diligent inquiry of all real and 
 physical causes, and given men the occasion to stay 
 upon these satisfactory and specious causes, to the 
 great arrest and prejudice of farther discovery. 
 
 For this I find done not only by Plato, who ever 
 anchoreth upon that shore, but by Aristotle, Galen, 
 and others, which do usually likewise fall upon these 
 flats of discoursing causes. For to say that the 
 hairs of the eyelids are for a quickset and fence 
 about the sight ; or, that the firmness of the skins 
 and hides of living creatures is to defend them 
 from the extremities of heat or cold; or, that the bones 
 are for the columns or beams, whereupon the frame 
 of the bodies of living creatures are built ; or, that 
 the leaves of trees are for the protecting of the fruit ; 
 or, that the clouds are for watering of the earth ; 
 or, that the solidness of the earth is for the sta- 
 tion and mansion of living creatures, and the like, 
 is well inquired and collected in metaphysic ; but in 
 physic they are impertinent. Nay, they are indeed 
 but remoras and hinderances to stay and slug the ship 
 from farther sailing, and have brought this to pass, 
 that the search of the physical causes hath been neg- 
 lected, and passed in silence. 
 
 And therefore the natural philosophy of Democritus, 
 and some others, who did not suppose a mind or 
 reason in the frame of things, but attributed the form 
 thereof, able to maintain itself, to infinite essays or 
 proofs of nature, which they term fortune ; seemeth 
 to me, as far as I can judge by the recital and frag- 
 ments which remain unto us, in particularities of 
 physical causes, more real and better inquired than 
 that of Aristotle and Plato ; whereof both inter- 
 mingled final causes, the one as a part of theology, 
 and the other as a part of logic, which were the 
 favourite studies respectively of both those persons. 
 Not because those final causes are not true, and wor- 
 thy to be inquired, being kept within their own pro- 
 vince ; but because their excursions into the limits of 
 physical causes hath bred a vastness and solitude in
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF EEAlCNINC; . 105 
 
 that track. For, otherwise, keeping their precincts 
 and borders, men are extremely deceived if they 
 tliink there is an enmity or repugnancy at all be- 
 tween them. For the cause rendered, that the hairs 
 about the eye-lids are for the safeguard of the sight, 
 doth not impugn the cause rendered, that pilosity is 
 incident to orifices of moisture; Muscosi f antes y etc. 
 Nor the cause rendered, that the firmness of hides is 
 for the armour of the body against extremities of heat 
 or cold, doth not impugn the cause rendered, that con- 
 traction of pores is incident to the outwardest parts, 
 in regard of their adjacence to foreign or unlike bo- 
 dies ; and so of the rest : both causes being true and 
 compatible, the one declaring an intention, the other 
 a consequence only. 
 
 Neither doth this call in question, or derogate from 
 divine providence, but highly confirm and exalt it. 
 For as in civil actions he is the greater and deeper 
 politician, that can make other men the instruments 
 of his will and ends, and yet never acquaint them with 
 his purpose, so as they shall do it, and yet not know what 
 they do ; than he that imparteth his meaning to those 
 he employeth : so is the wisdom of God more admira- 
 ble, when nature intendeth one thing, and providence 
 draweth forth another ; than if he had communicated 
 to particular creatures, and motions, the characters 
 and impressions of his providence. And thus much 
 for metaphysic ; the latter part whereof I allow as 
 extant, but wish it confined to its proper place. 
 
 Nevertheless there remaineth yet a.JlQther part of 
 natural philosophy, which is commonly made a princi- 
 pal part, and holdeth rank with physic special, and j ^ j 1 
 metaphysic, ^vllich is mathematic ; but I think it more 
 agreeable to the nature of things, and to the light of 
 order, to place it as a branch of metaphysic : for the 
 subject of it being quantity, not quantity indefinite, 
 which is but a relative, and belongeth to philosophia 
 pynma, as hath been said, but quantity determined, 
 or proportionable ; it appeareth to be one of the essen- 
 tial forms of things ; as that that is causative in nature 
 of a number of effects ; insomuch as we sec, in the
 
 106 ADVANCEMENT OF LEAllNIXG. [Book IL 
 
 schools both of Demoeritus and Pythagoras, that the 
 one did ascribe Figure to the first seeds of things, and 
 the other did suppose Numbers to be the principles 
 and originals of things ; and it is true also, that of 
 all other forms, as we understand forms, it is the most 
 abstracted and separable from matter, and therefore 
 most proper to metapliysic ; which hath likewise been 
 the cauf^e why it hath been better laboured and 
 inquired, than any of the other forms, which are more 
 immersed into matter. 
 
 For it being the nature of the mind of man, to 
 the extreme prejudice of knowledge, to delight in the 
 spacious liberty of generalities, as in a champain re- 
 gion, and not in the inclosures of particularity ; the 
 mathematics of all other knowledge were the goodliest 
 fields to satisfy the appetite. 
 
 But for the placing of these sciences, it is not much 
 material ; only we have endeavoured, in these our 
 partitions, to observe a kind of perspective, that one 
 part may cast light upon another. 
 
 The ^lathematics are cither pure or mixed. To 
 the pure mathematics are those sciences Tjelonging 
 which handle quantity determinate, merely severed 
 from any axioms of natural philosophy ; and these are 
 two. Geometry, and Arithmetic ; the one handling 
 quantity continued, and the other dissevered. 
 
 Mixed hath for subject some axioms or parts of 
 natural philosophy, and considereth quantity deter- 
 mined, as it is auxiliary and incident unto them. 
 
 For many parts of nature can neither be invented 
 with sufficient subtilty, nor demonstrated with suffi- 
 cient perspicuity, nor accommodated unto use with 
 sufficient dexterity, without the aid and intervening 
 of the mathematics : of which sort arc perspective, 
 music, astronomy, cosmograpliy, architecture, engi- 
 nery, and divers others. 
 
 In the mathematics I can report no deficience, ex- 
 cept it be that men do not sufficiently understand the 
 excellent use of tlic pure mathematics, in that they do 
 remedy and cure many defects in the wit and faculties 
 intellectual. For, if the wit be dull, they sharpen
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 107 
 
 it ; if too waiidcriiig', they fix it ; if too iiilicrcnt iu 
 the sense, they abstract it. So that as tennis is a 
 game of no use in itself, but of great use in respect it 
 niaketh a quick eye, and a body ready to put itself into 
 all postures ; so in the mathematics, that use which is 
 collateral and intervenient, is no less worthy than that 
 which is principal and intended. 
 
 And ns for the mixed mathematics, I may only 
 make this ))rediction, that there cannot fail to be more 
 kinds of them, as nature grows further disclosed. 
 
 Thus uuidi pf natui'al science, or thej^art of nature 
 speculative: ' "" -— .— - 
 
 For Natural Prudence, or the part operative of ^ ■ 
 natural philosophy, 'we will divide it into three parts, ;^<^ ff'ft'^' 
 expeiimental, philosophical, and magical ; which three 
 parts active have a correspondence and analogy with 
 the three parts speculative, natural history, physic, 
 and metaphysic : for many operations have been in- 
 vented sometimes by a casual incidence and occur- 
 rence, sometimes by a purposed experiment ; and of 
 those which have been found by an intentional expe- 
 riment, some have been found out by varying or ex- 
 tending the same experiment, some by transferring and 
 compounding divers experiments, the one into the other, 
 which kind of invention an empiric may manage. 
 
 Again, by the knowledge of physical causes, there 
 cannot fail to follow many indications and designa- 
 tions of new particulars, if men in their speculation 
 will keep one eye upon use and practice. But these 
 are but coastings along the shore, prcmendo littus 
 iniqiium : for, it seemetli to me, there can hardly be 
 discovered any radical or fundamental alterations and 
 innovations in nature, either by the fortune and essays 
 of experiments, or by the light and direction of physi- 
 cal causes. 
 
 If therefore we have reported metaphysic deficient, Naturaiis 
 it musno!Tdw,~That we do the like of natural magic, "IJ^rca' "^ 
 whiclr"hTrth~fc!ation tliereunto. For as for thenatm-al opcmtiva 
 magic whereof now there is mention in books, contain- '"''•'"'^' 
 ing certain credidous and superstitious conceits and 
 observations of sym))athies, and antipathies, and hidden
 
 108 ADVANCEMENT OF LEAllNING. [Book II. 
 
 proprieties, and some frivolous experiments, strange 
 rather by disguisemcnt, than in themselves : it is as 
 far differing in truth of nature from such a knowledge 
 as we require, as the story of king Arthur of Britain, 
 or Hugh of Bourdeaux, differs from Csesar's commen- 
 taries in truth of story. For it is manifest that 
 Caesar did greater things dt vero, than those imagi- 
 nary heroes were feigned to do ; but he did them not 
 in that fabulous manner. Of this kind of learning 
 the fable of Ixion was a figure, w^ho designed to 
 enjoy Juno, the goddess of pow^r ; and instead of her 
 had copulation with a cloud, of which mixture were 
 begotten centaurs and chimeras. 
 
 So whosoever shall entertain high and .vaporous 
 imaginallons, instead of a laborious and sober inquiry 
 of truth, shall beget hopes and beliefs of strange-aud^ 
 impossible shapes. And therefore we may note in these 
 sciences, which hold so much of imagination and belief, 
 as this degenerate natural magic, alchemy, astrology, 
 and the like, that, in their propositions, the description 
 of the means is ever more monstrous than the pretence 
 or end. 
 
 For it is a thing more probable, that he that 
 knoweth well the natures of weight, of colour, of 
 pliant and fragile in respect of the hammer, of volatile 
 and fixed in respect of the fire, and the rest, may 
 superinduce upon some metal the nature and form of 
 gold by such mechanic as longeth to the production 
 of the natures afore rehearsed, than that some grains 
 of the medicine projected should in a few moments 
 of . time turn a sea of quicksilver, or other ma- 
 terial, into gold : so it is more probable, that he, 
 that knoweth the natiuc of arefaction, the nature of 
 assimilation, of nourishment to the thing nourished, 
 the manner of increase and clearing of spirits, the 
 manner of the depredations which spirits make upon 
 the humours and solid parts ; shall, by ambages of 
 diets, bathings, anointings, medicines, motions, and 
 tlie like, prolong life, or restore some degree of youth 
 or vivacity, tlian tliat it can be done with the use of 
 a few drops, or scruples of a iiquor or receipt. To con-
 
 um 
 niana- 
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 109 
 
 cliule tlicrcforc, tlicjtruc natural magic, wliicli is tliat 
 great liberty and latitmlc of operation which dcpend- 
 eth u"pol^ltlckno^\ ledge of forms, I may report defi- 
 cientpasTIic relative thereof is ; to wliich part, if we 
 be scHous, and incline not to vanities and plausible 
 discourse, besides the deriving and deducing the ope- 
 rations themselves from metaphysic, there are perti- 
 nent two points of much purpose, the one by way of 
 preparation, the other by way of caution : the first is, 
 that there be made a kalendar resembling an inven- invcniari- 
 tory of the estate of man, containing all the inven- "'" "'' 
 tions, being the works or iruits oi nature or art, which mm. 
 arc now extant, and whereof man is already possessed, 
 out of which doth naturally result a note, what things 
 are yet held impossible or not invented : which kalen- 
 dar will be the more artificial and serviceable, if to 
 every reputed impossibility you add what thing is ex- 
 tant, which cometh the nearest in degree to that im- 
 possibility ; to the end, that by these optatives and 
 potentials man's inquiry may be the more awake in 
 deducing direction of works from the speculation of 
 causes : and secondly, that those experiments be not 
 only esteemed wliich have an immediate and present 
 use, but those principally which are of most universal 
 consequence for invention of other experiments, and 
 those which give most light to the invention of causes ; 
 for the invention of the mariner's needle, which givetli 
 the direction, is of no less benefit for navigation, than 
 the invention of the sails, which give the motion. 
 
 Thusjiaye I .pajssed through natural philosophy, . 
 and the deficiencies thereof, wherein if I have differed 
 from the ancient and received doctrines, and thereby 
 shall move contradiction ; for my part, as I affect not 
 to dissent, so I purpose not to contend. If it be truth, 
 
 Non canimus surdis, respondent omnia sylvae : 
 the voice of nature will consent, whether the voice of 
 man do or no. And as Alexander Borgia was wont to 
 say of the expedition of the French for Naples, that 
 they came with chalk in their hands to mark up their 
 lodgings, and not with weapons to fight : so I like 
 better that entry of truth, wliich cometh peaceably
 
 110 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Cook II. 
 
 with chalk to mark up those minds which arc capable 
 to lodge and harbour it, than that which comcth with 
 pugnacity and contention. 
 
 But there remaineth a division of natural philoso- 
 phy according to the report of the inquiry, and nothing 
 concerning the matter or subject ; and that is positive 
 and considerative ; when the inquiry reportctli eitlier 
 an assertion, or a doubt. These doubts, or non liquets, 
 are of two sorts, particular, and total. For the first, 
 we see a good example thereof in Aristotle's Problems, 
 which deserved to have had a better continuance ; but 
 so nevertheless, as there is one point whereof warning- 
 is to be given and taken. The registring of doubts 
 hath t\yp excellent uses : The one, that it savelli phi- 
 losophy, from errors and__fols^^^ when that which 
 is not fully appearing is not collected into assertion, 
 whereby error might draw error, but reserved in doubt. 
 The other, tha,t the eatry of doubts are as so many 
 suckers or spunges to draw use of knowledge ; inso- 
 much, as that which, if doubts had not preceded, a 
 man should never have advised, but passed it over 
 without note, by the suggestion and solicitation of 
 doubts is made to be attended and applied. But both 
 these commodities do scarcely countervail an inconve- 
 nience which will intrude itself, if it be not debarred; 
 which is, that, when a doubt is once received, men 
 labour rather how to keep it a doubt still, than how to 
 solve it, and accordingly bend their wits. Of this we 
 see the familiar example in lawyers and scholars, both 
 which, if they have once admitted a doubt, it goeth 
 ever after authorized for a doubt. But that use of wit 
 and knowledge is to be allowed, which labouretli to 
 make doubtful things certain, and not those which 
 Continuafio labour to make certain things doubtful. Therefore 
 r,m!';n '.?!.'„ these kalendars of doubts I commend as excellent 
 "• things, so that there be this caution used, that wlipn 
 they be throughly sifted and brought to rcsoliition, 
 they be from thenceforth omitted, discarded, and not 
 continued to chcrisli and encourage men in doubting. 
 To which kalendar of doubts or problems, I advise to 
 be annexed another kalcnduxv-as nuich or more mate-
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. Ill 
 
 rial, wliich is n kalendar of pomilnv errors, I mean cataiocus 
 listory, such as pass in speech and |«''^'^aium 
 conceit, and are nevertheless apparently detected and ri.nn in 
 convicted of untruth, that man's knowledge be not '"='/""^ 
 
 1 1 1 T 1 11 1 • iialurifi. 
 
 weakened nor embased by such dross and vanity. 
 
 As for the doubts or non liqucts general or in total, 
 I understand those differences of opinions touching the 
 principles of nature, and the fundamental points of the 
 same, which have caused the diversity of sects, schools, 
 and philosophies, as that of Empedocles, Pythagoras, 
 Dcmocritus, Parmenidcs, and the rest. For although 
 Aristotle, as though he had been of the race of the 
 Ottomans, thought he could not reign, except the first 
 thing he did he killed all his brethren ; yet to those 
 that seek truth and not magistrality, it cannot but 
 seem a matter of great profit, to see before them the 
 several opinions touching the foundations of nature ; 
 not for any exact truth that can be expected in those 
 theories : for as the same phaenomena in astronomy 
 are satisfied by the received astronomy of the diurnal 
 motion, and the proper motions of the planets, with 
 their eccentrics, and epicycles ; and likewise by the 
 theory of Copernicus, who supposed the earth to move, 
 and the calculations are indifferently agreeable to both: 
 so the ordinary face and view of experience is many 
 times satisfied by several theories and philosophies ; 
 whereas to find the real truth requireth another man- 
 ner of severity and attention. For, as Aristotle saith, 
 that children at the first will call every woman mother, 
 but afterward they come to distinguish according to 
 truth; so experience, if it be in childhood, will call 
 every philosophy mother, but when it cometh to ripe- 
 ness, it will discern the true mother ; so as in the 
 mean tinie it is good to see the several glosses and 
 opinions upon nature, whereof it may be every one in 
 some one point hath seen clearer than his fellows ; 
 therefore I wish some collection to be made painfully 
 and understandingly de antiquis phUosophiis, out ofDeaiui- 
 all the posiblc light which rcmaineth to us of them : s^,",pi,ii!,." '*' 
 which kind of work I find deficient. But here I must 
 give warning, that it be done distinctly and severally.
 
 112 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 the pliilosophies of every one throughout by themselves, 
 and not by titles packed and fagotted up together, as 
 hath been done by Plutarch. For it is the harmony 
 of a philosophy in itself, which giveth it light and 
 credence ; whereas if it be singled and broken, it will 
 seem more foreign and dissonant. For as when I read 
 in Tacitus the actions of Nero or Claudius, with cir- 
 cumstances of times, inducements and occasions, I find 
 them not so strange ; but when I read them in Sueto- 
 nius Tranquillus, gathered into titles and bundles, 
 and not in order of time, they seem more monstrous 
 and incredible ; so is it of any philosophy reported en- 
 tire, and dismembered by articles. Neither do I Ex- 
 clude opinions of latter times to be likewise represented 
 in this kalendar of sects of philosophy, as that of Theo- 
 phrastus Paracelsus, eloquently reduced into an har- 
 mony by the pen of Severinus the Dane, and that of 
 Tilesius, and his scholar Donius, being as a pastoral 
 philosophy, full of sense, but of no great depth : and 
 that of Fracastorius, who though he pretended not to 
 make any new philosophy, yet did use the absoluteness 
 of his own sense upon the old: and tliat of Gilbertus, 
 our countryman, who revived, with some alterations 
 and demonstrations, the opinions of Xenophanes : and 
 any other worthy to be admitted. 
 
 Thus have we now dealt with two of the tJi i£.e 
 beams of man's knowledge, that is, Radius directus, 
 which is referred to nature; Radius 7'efractus, ys\xid\ 
 is referred to God, and cannot report truly because, of 
 the inequality of the medium ; there rcsteth Radiy^s 
 refiexust, whereby man beholdeth and contemplatcth 
 himself. 
 
 (2) 
 
 We come therefore now to that knowledge wherc- 
 unto the ancient oracle directeth us, which isjtlicjcnow- 
 Icdge of ourselves ; which descrveth the more accurate 
 handliiig, by how much it touchctli us more nearly. 
 This knowledge, as it is the end and term of natural 
 ])hilosophy in the intention of man, so, notwithstand- 
 ing, it is but a portion of natural ])hilosopliy in the con- 
 tinent of nature ; and generally let this be a rule, that
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMKNT OF LEARNING. IIS 
 
 all partitions of knowledges be accepted ratliev for 
 lines and veins, than, for sections and separations ; and 
 that the continuance and cntirencss of kuowledge.be 
 preserveoT For~fhe contrary liereof hath made par- 
 ticiilaf'^ciences to become barren, shallow, and erro- 
 neous, while they have not been nourished and main- 
 tained from the common fountain. So we see Cicero 
 the orator complained of Socrates and his school, that 
 he was the first that separated philosophy and rheto- 
 ric, whereupon rhetoric became an empty and verbal 
 art. So we may see, that the opinion of Copernicus 
 touching the rotation of the earth, which astronomy 
 itself cannot correct, because it is not repugnant to 
 any of the phenomena, yet natural philosophy may 
 correct. So we see also that the science of medicine, 
 if it be destitute and forsaken by natural philosophy, 
 it is not much better than an empirical practice. 
 
 With this reservation therefore we proceed to Hu- 
 man Philosophy, or humanity, which hath two parts :,v 
 the one considereth man segregate or distributively ;' ^\ 
 {^^\ie other congregate or in society. So as human phi- 
 . losophy is either simple and particular, or conjugate 
 \^ \^and civil. Huiuaxdty particular consisteth of the same (f\ | 
 parts whereof man consisteth, that is, of knowledges 
 which respect the body, and of knowledges that respect 
 the mind ; but before we distribute so far, it is good 
 to constitute. For I do take the consideration in 
 general, and at large, of human nature to be fit 
 to be emancipated and made a knowledge by it- 
 self ; not so much in regard of those delightful and 
 elegant discourses which have been made of the dig- 
 nity of man, of his miseries, of his state and life, and 
 the like adjuncts of his common and undivided nature; 
 but chiefly in regard of the knowledge concerning the 
 sympathies and concordances^"lween the mind and 
 bodyi which being mixed, cannot be properly assigned 
 to tlie sciences of either. 
 
 This knowledge hath two branches : for as all 
 leagues and amities consist of mutual intelligence 
 and mutual offices, so this league of mind and body 
 hath these two parts, how tlie one discloscth tlic
 
 114- ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 other, and how the one worketli upon the other; 
 i. "^ Discovery, and Impression. 
 
 TTTeToriner of these Tiath begotten two arts, both 
 ^ of prediction or prenotion, whereof the one is ho- 
 noured with the inquiry of Aristotle, and the other of 
 Hippocrates. And although they have of later time 
 been used to be coupled with superstitious and fan- 
 tastical arts, yet being pui'ged and restored to their 
 true state, they have both of them a solid ground in 
 Pars phy- naturo, aud a profitable use in life. The fii'^sj)hy- 
 de g"stu^' siognomy, which discovereth the disposition^ of the 
 siveniotu mind by the lineaments of the body. The second is 
 corporis. ^ ^]jg ■^xposition of natiu'al . d^'c^i^^^^^ which discovereth 
 the state of the body by the imaginations of the 
 mind. In the former of these I note a deficience, 
 for Aristotle hath very ingeniously and diligently 
 handled the factures of the body, but not the gestures 
 of the body, which are no less comprehensible by art, 
 and of greater use and advantage. For the linea- 
 ments of the body do disclose the disposition and in- 
 clination of the mind in general ; but the motions of 
 the countenance and parts do not only so, but do far- 
 ther disclose the present humour and state of the 
 mind and will. For, as your majesty saith most 
 aptly and elegantly, " As the tongue speaketh to the 
 ear, so the gesture speaketh to the eye." And 
 therefore a number of subtle persons, whose eyes do 
 dwell upon the faces and fashions of men, do well 
 know the advantage of this observation, as being most 
 part of their ability ; neither can it be denied but 
 that it is a great discovery of dissimulations, and a 
 great direction in business. 
 
 The latter branch, touching impression, hath not 
 been collected into art, but hath been Handled dis- 
 persedly ; and it hath the same relation or anti- 
 strophe that the former hath. For the consideration 
 is double ; " Either how, and how far the humours 
 and effects of the body do alter or work upon the 
 mind ; or again, How, and how far the passLoils or 
 apprehensions of the mind do alter or work upon 
 tlie body." The former of these hath beeiT *lll'=~~ 
 
 a)
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 115 
 
 quired and considered, as a part and appendix of 
 medicine, but much more as a part of religion or 
 superstition : for the physician prescribeth cures of 
 the mind in frenzies and melancholy passions, and pre- 
 tendeth also to exhibit medicines to exhilarate the 
 mind, to confirm the courage, to clarify the wits, to 
 corroborate tlie memory, and the like : but the scru- 
 ples and superstitions of diet, and other regiment of 
 the body, in the sect of the Pythagoreans, in the he- 
 resy of the JManicheans, and in the law of JMahomet, 
 do exceed : So likewise the ordinances in the cere- 
 monial law, interdicting the eating of the blood and 
 the fat, distinguishing between beasts clean and un- 
 clean for meat, are many and strict. Nay the faith 
 itself, being clear and serene from all clouds of cere- 
 mony, yet retaineth the use of fastings, abstinences, 
 and other ]nacerations and humiliations of the body, as 
 things real and not figurative. The root and life of all 
 which prescripts is, besides the ceremony, the consi- 
 deration of that de])endency which the affections of 
 the mind are submitted unto upon the state and dis- 
 position of the body. And if any man of weak judg- 
 ment do conceive, that this suffering of the mind from 
 the body, doth either question the immortality, or de- 
 rogate from the sovereignty of the soul, he may be 
 taught in easy instances, that the infant in the mo- 
 ther's womb is compatible with the mother, and yet 
 separable : and the most absolute monarch is some- 
 times led by his servants, and yet without subjection. 
 As for the reciprocal knowledge, which is the opera- 
 tion of the conceits and passions of the mind upon the 
 body ; we see all wise physicians, in the prescriptions 
 of their regiments to their patients, do ever consider 
 accidentia animi, as of great force to further or hinder 
 remedies, or recoveries ; and more especially it is an 
 inquiry of great depth and worth concerning imagi- 
 nation, how, and how far it altereth the body proper 
 of the imaginant. For although it hath a manifest 
 power to hmt, it foUoweth not it hath the same de- 
 gree of power to help ; no more than a man can con- 
 clude, that because there be pestilent airs, able sud-
 
 116 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 denly to kill a man in health, therefore there should 
 be sovereign airs, able suddenly to cure a man in 
 sickness. But the inquisition of this part is of great 
 use, though it ueedeth, as Socrates said, " a Delian 
 diver," being difficult and profound. But unto all 
 this knowledge de communi vinculo, of tlie concord- 
 ances between the mind and the body, that part of 
 inquiry is most necessaryj which cQnsicWreth~~of ~the 
 seats and domiciles, which the several faculties of the 
 mind do take and occupate in the organs of the body; 
 which knowledge hath been attempted, and is con- 
 troverted, and deserveth to be much better inquired. 
 For the opinion of Plato, who placed the under- 
 standing in the brain, animosity (which he did un- 
 fitly call anger, having a greater mixture with pride) 
 in the heart, and concupiscence or sensuality in the 
 liver, deserveth not to be despised, but much less to 
 be allowed. So then we have constituted, as in our 
 own wish and advice, the inquiry touching human 
 nature entire, as a just portion of knowledge to be 
 handled apart. 
 
 The knowledge that concemeth man's Body, is 
 divided as the good of man's body is divided, unto 
 i^'t' ' which it referreth. The good of man's body is of 
 
 four kinds, health, beauty, strength, and pleasure j_ 
 So the knowledges are medicine, or art of cure ; art 
 of decoration, which is called cosmetic ; art of acti- 
 vity, which is called athletic; and art voluptuary," 
 which Tacitus truly calleth " eruditus luxus." This 
 subject of man's body is of all other things in nature 
 most susceptible of remedy ; but then that remedy 
 is most susceptible of error. For the same subtility 
 of the subject doth cause large possibility, and easy 
 failing ; and therefore the inquiry ought to be the 
 more exact. 
 
 To speak therefore of medicine, and to resume 
 that we have said, ascendinglTlitne" higher ; the an- 
 cient opinion that man was microcosmus, an ab- 
 tract or model of tlie world, hatli been fantastically 
 strained by Paracelsus and the alchemists, as if there 
 were to be found in man's body certain correspond-
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OV LEAllNING. il7 
 
 enccs and parallels, wliich should have respect to all 
 varieties of things, as stars, planets, minerals, which 
 are extant in the great world. But thus much is 
 evidently true, that of all Guhstances which nature 
 hath produced, main's botly is the most extremely 
 compounded : For we see herbs and plants are nou- 
 risHedby earth and water ; beasts for the most part 
 by herhs and fruits ; man hy the flesh of beasts, birds, 
 fishes, herbs, grains, fruits, water, and tlic manifold 
 alterations, dressings, and preparations of these several 
 bodies, before they come to be his food and aliment. 
 Add hereunto, that beasts have a more simple order 
 of life, and less change of affections to work upon 
 their bodies ; whereas man, in his mansion, sleep, 
 exercise, passions, hath infinite variations; and it can- 
 not be denicjl, but that the body of man of all other 
 things is of the most compoiuided mass. The soul 
 on the other side is the simplest of substances, as is 
 well expressed : 
 
 Purumque reliquit 
 
 yEthcreum sensiim, atquc aurai" simplicis io-nem. 
 
 So that it is no marvel though the soul so placed en- 
 joy uo rest, if that principle be true, that " JNIotus re- 
 rum est rapidus extra locum, placidus in loco." But 
 to the purpose : this variable composition of man's 
 body hath made it as an instrument easy to distemper, 
 and therefore the poets did vv^eli to conjoin music and 
 medicine in Apollo, because the office of medicine is 
 but to tune this £ujjqus luM^P-cf fflaii*sl)ocl^^^ 
 rediiccTt^jto.Ijiu:iiionyv So then the subject being so 
 variable, hath made the art by consequence more 
 conjectural ; and the art being conjectural, hath 
 made so much the more place to be left for im- 
 posture. For almost all other arts and sciences are 
 judged by acts or master-pieces, as I may term them, 
 and not by the successes and events. The lawyer is 
 judged by the virtue of his pleading, and not by the 
 issue of the cause. The master of the ship is judged 
 by the directing his course aright, and not by the for- 
 tune of the A^oyage. But the physician, and per- 
 haps the politician, hath no particular acts demon- 
 
 VOL. T. I
 
 118 ADVANCEMENT OF I,EARNINC^. [Book IL 
 
 strative of his ability, hut is judged most by the event; 
 which is ever but as it is taken : for who can tell, if a 
 patient die or recover, or if a state be preserved or 
 ruined, whether it be art or accident ? And therefore 
 many times the impostor is prized, and the man of 
 virtue taxed. Nay, we see the weakness and credu- 
 lity of men is such, as they will often prefer a moun- 
 tebank or witch before a learned physician. And 
 therefore the poets were clear-sighted in discerning 
 this extreme folly, when they made iE,sculapius and 
 Circe brother and sister, both children of the sun, as 
 in the verses ; Mn. vii. 772. 
 
 Ipse repertorem medicinae talis et artis 
 
 Fulmine Phoebigenam Stygias detrusit ad nndas : 
 
 And again. 
 
 Dives inaccessos ubi Solis filia luces, etc. ^n vii. 11. 
 For in all times, in the opinion of the multitude, 
 witches, and old women, and impostors, have had a 
 competition with physicians. And what followeth ? 
 Even this ; that physicians say to themselves, as So- 
 lomon expresseth it u})on an higher occasion ; " If it 
 befal to me, as befalleth to the fools, why should I la- 
 bour to be Uiore wise ? " And therefore I cannot much 
 blame physicians, that they use commonly to intend 
 some other art or practice, which they fancy more 
 than their profession. For you shall have of them, an- 
 tiquaries, poets, humanists, statesmen, merchants, di- 
 vines, and in every of these better seen than in their 
 profession; and no doubt, upon this ground, that 
 they find that mediocrity and excellency in their- art 
 maketh no difference in profit or reputation towards 
 their fortune ; for the weakness of patients, and 
 sweetness of life, and nature of hope, maketh men de- 
 pend on physicians with all their defects. But, 
 nevertheless, these things, which wo have spoken of, 
 are courses begotten between a little occasion, and a 
 great deal of sloth and default ; for if we will excite 
 and awake our observation, we shall sec, in familiar 
 instances, what a predominant faculty the subtilty of 
 spirit hath over the variety of matter or form : no- 
 thing more variable than faces and countenances, yet
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 119 
 
 men can bear in memory the infinite distinction.? of 
 them ; nay, a painter with a few shells of colours, and 
 the benefit of his eye, iind habit of his imagination, 
 can imitate them all that ever have been, are, or may 
 be, if they were brought before him. Nothing more 
 variable than voices, yet men can likewise discern 
 them personally ; nay, you shall have a buffoon, or 
 panto))iimus, will express as many as he pleascth. 
 Nothing more variable than the differing .sounds of 
 words, yet men have found the way to reduce them 
 to a few siinple letters. So that it is not the insuffi- 
 ciency or incapacity of man's mind, but it is the re- 
 mote standing or placing thereof, that breedcth these 
 mazes and incomprehensions : for as the sense afar off 
 is full of mistaking, but is exact at hand, so it is of 
 the understanding; the remedy whereof is not to 
 quicken or strengthen the organ, but to go nearer to 
 the object ; and therefore there is no doubt, but if 
 the physicians will learn and use the true approaches 
 and avenues of nature, they may assume as much as 
 the poet saith : 
 
 Et quorum variant morbi, variabimus artes : 
 Mille niali species, mille salutis erunt. 
 
 Which that they should do, the nobleness of their 
 art doth deserve, well shadowed by the poets, in that 
 they made iEsculapius to be the son of the Sun, the 
 one being the fountain of life, the other as the second 
 stream ; but infinitely more honoured by the example 
 of our Saviour, who made the body of man the object 
 of his miracles, as the soul was the object of his doc- 
 trine. For we read not that ever he vouchsafed to do 
 any miracle about honour or money, except that one 
 for giving tribute to CaBsar, but only about the pre- 
 serving, sustaining, and healing the body of man. 
 
 iSIedicine is a science which hath been, as we have 
 said, more proiesscdthaiV laboured, and yet more la- 
 boured than advanced ; the labour having been, in 
 my judgment, rather in circle than in progression. 
 For I find much iteration, but small addition. It 
 considereth the causes of diseases, with the occasions 
 or impulsions ; the diseases themselves, with the ac- 
 
 I 2
 
 medici- 
 nales. 
 
 120 ADVANCEMENT OF EEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 cidents ; and the cures, with the preservations. The 
 deiicicnces which I think good to note, heing a few 
 of~mtiiiy7"and those such as are of a more open and 
 manifest nature, I will enumerate and not place. 
 Narraiioiies The first is tlic discoutinuauce of the ancient and 
 serious Hiligence of Hippocrates, which used to set 
 down a narrative of the special cases of his patients, 
 and how they proceeded, and how they were judged 
 by recovery or death. Therefore having an example 
 proper in the father of the art, I shall not need to 
 allcdge an example foreign, of the wisdom of the 
 lawyers, who are careful to report new cases and de- 
 cisions for the direction of future judgments. This 
 continuance of Medicinal History I find deficient, 
 which I understand neither to be so infinite as to 
 extend to every common case, nor so reserved, as to 
 admit none but wonders ; for many things are new 
 in the manner, which are not new in the kind ; and 
 if men will intend to observe, they shall find much 
 worthy to observe. 
 Anatomia Ju tlic inquiry which is made by anatomy, I find 
 comparata. j^^^^,]^ deficicuce '. for they inquire of tli'e'pafts, and 
 their substances, figures, and collocations ; but they 
 inquire not of the diversities of the par ts^. the seca'ecies 
 of the passages, and the seats or nestlings of the 
 humours, nor much of the footsteps and impressions 
 of diseases ; the reason of which omission I suppose 
 to be, because the first inquiry may be satisfied in the 
 view of one or a few anatomies ; but the latter, being 
 comparative and casual, must arise from the view of 
 many. And as to the diversity of parts, there is no 
 doubt but the facture or framing of the inward parts 
 is as full of difference as the outward, and in that is 
 the cause continent of many diseases, which not 
 being observed, they quarrel many times with the 
 humours, which are not in fault, the fault being in 
 the very frame and mechanic of the part, which can- 
 not be removed by medicine alterative, but must be 
 accommodated and palliated by diets and medicines 
 familiar. And for the passages and pores, it is true, 
 which was anciently noted, that the more subtile
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 121 
 
 of tliem appear not in anatomies, because tliey are 
 shut and latent in dead bodies, though they be open 
 and manifest in life : which being supposed, though 
 the inhumanity of anatomia vlvorum was by Celsus 
 justly approved ; yet in regard of the great use of tliis 
 observation, the inquiry needed not by him so slightly 
 to have been relinquished altogether, or referred to 
 the casual practices of surgery, but might have been 
 well diverted upon dissection of beasts alive, 
 which, notwithstanding the dissimilitude of their 
 parts, may sufficiently satisfy this inquiry. And for the 
 humours, they are commonly passed over in anatomies 
 as purgaments, whereas it is most necessary to observe, 
 what cavities, nests, and receptacles the humours do 
 find in the parts, with the differing kind of the hu- 
 mour so lodged and received. And as for the foot- 
 steps of diseases, and their devastations of the inward 
 parts, impostumations, exulcerations, discontinuations, 
 putrefactions, consumptions, contractions, extensions, 
 convulsions, dislocations, obstructions, repletions, to- 
 gether with all preternatural substances, as stones, 
 carnosities, excrescences, worms, and the like ; they 
 ought to have been exactly observed by multitude of 
 anatomies, and the contribution of mens several ex- 
 periences, and carefully set down, both historically, 
 according to the appearances, and artificially, with a 
 reference to the diseases and symptoms which result- 
 ed from them, in case where the anatomy is of a de- 
 funct patient : whereas now, upon opening of bodies, 
 they are passed over slightly and in silence. 
 
 In the inquiry of diseases they do abandon tlie cures inquisuio 
 of many, some as in their nature incurable, and others ,",'J,"'iTb^ 
 as past the period of cure ; so that Sylla and the tri- sanai)iiii>us 
 lunvirs never proscribed so many men to die, as they 
 do by their ignorant edicts, whereof numbers do es- 
 cape with less difficulty, than they did in the Roman 
 proscriptions. Therefore I will not doubt to note as 
 a deficiencc, that they inquire not the perfect cures oT 
 many diseases, or extremities of diseases, but pro- 
 nouncing them incurable, do enact a law of neglect, 
 and exempt ignorance from,discrctlit.
 
 122 
 
 ADVANCEMENT OF LEAIINING. [Book II. 
 
 De eutba- Nay farther, 1 esteem it the office of a physician not 
 riore. ^''^^' only to restore health, but to mitigate pain and dolors, 
 and not only when such mitigation may conduce to 
 recovery, but when it may serve to make a fair and 
 easy passage : for it is no small felicity which Augustus 
 Csesar was wont to wish to himself, that same eutha- 
 nasia, and which was specially noted in the death of 
 Antoninus Pius, whose death was after the fashion and 
 semblance of a kindly and pleasant sleep, 80 it is 
 written of Epicurus, that after his disease was judged 
 desperate, he drowned his stomach and senses with a 
 large draught and ingurgitation of wine ; whereupon 
 the epigram was made, " Hinc Stygias ebrius hausife 
 aquas :" he was not sober enough to taste any bitter- 
 ness of the Stygian water. But the physicians, con- 
 trariwise, do make a kind of scruple and religion to stay 
 with the patient after the disease is deplored ; whereas, 
 in my judgment, they ought both to inquire the skill, 
 and to give the attendances for the facilitating and 
 asswaging of the pains and agonies of death. 
 Medicinae In tliejconsideration of^tlie cures..Qf diseases^ J find 
 nSaks. ^ deficience in the receipts of propriety, respecting tLc 
 particular cures of diseases: for the physicians have 
 frustrated the fruit of tradition and experience by their 
 magistralitics, in adding, and taking out, and chang- 
 ing rjiiid pro quo, in their receipts, at their pleasures, 
 commanding so over the medicine, as the medicine 
 cannot command over the disease ; for except it be 
 treacle, and JVlithridatum, and of late diascordium, and 
 a few more, tliey tie themselves to no receipts severe- 
 ly and religiously : for as to the confections of sale 
 wliich are in the shops, tliey are for readiness, atid not 
 for i)ropriety ; for they are upon general intentions of 
 purging, opening, comforting, altering, and not much 
 appropriated to particular (Hscases ; and tliis is the 
 cause wliy empirics and old women are more happy 
 many times in their cures than learned physicians, 
 because they are more religious in holding their me- 
 dicines. Therefore here is the deficience which I 
 find, that physicians have not, partly out of their own 
 jnacticc, j)artly out of the constant probations reported
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 123 
 
 in books, and jiartly ont of the traditions of empirics, 
 set dovCTTTind dcli\crcd over certain cxpcrimentarme- 
 dicineS^for the cure of particular diseases, besides their 
 own cbiijcctural and magistral descriptions. For as 
 they were tlic men of the best composition in the state 
 of Rome, which either being consuls inclined to the 
 people, or being tribunes inclined to the senate ; so in 
 the matter we now handle^ they be the best physicians, 
 which being learned, incline to the traditions of expe- 
 rience, or being empirics, incline to the methods of 
 learning. 
 
 In preparation of medicines, 1 do find strange, imitatio 
 especially, considering how mineral medicines have ^^1.1^'" 
 been extolled, and that they are safer for the outward ct aquis 
 than inward parts, that no man hath sought to make "i'bus?"" 
 an imitation by art of natural baths, and medicinable 
 fountains : which nevertheless are confessed to receive 
 their virtues from minerals ; and not so only, but dis- 
 cerned and distinguished from what particular mine- 
 ral they receive tincture, as sulphur, vitriol, steel, or 
 the like ; which nature, if it may be reduced to com- 
 positions of art, both the variety of them will be in- 
 creased, and the temper of them will be more com- 
 manded. 
 
 But lest I grow to be more particular than is agree- F'';" 
 
 nil lue- 
 
 able, either to my intention or to proportion ; I will sive de ' 
 
 vicibus me- 
 licinaruni. 
 
 conclude this part with the note of onc_defieifiiice.mQr_e»Jl^ 
 which seemeth to mc of greatest consequence ; which 
 is, that the prescripts ill use are too compendious~to 
 attain their end ; for to my understanding, it is a vain 
 antl flaTteriiig opinion to tliink any medicine can be 
 so sovereign, or so happy, as that the receipt or use of 
 it can work any great effect upon the body of man : 
 it were a strange speech, which spoken, or spoken oft, 
 should reclaim a man from a vice to which he were by 
 nature subject ; it is order, piu'suit, sequence, and in- 
 terchange of application, which is mighty in nature ; 
 which although it require more exact knowledge in 
 prescribing, and more precise obedience in observing, 
 yet is recompensed with the magnitude of effects. And 
 although a man would think by the daily visitations
 
 124 ADVANCEMENT OF EEAllNING. [Book II. 
 
 of the physicians, that there ^vc^c a pursuance in the 
 cure ; yet let a man look into their prescripts and 
 ministrations, and he shall find them hut inconstan- 
 cies, and every day's devices, without any settled pro- 
 vidence or project ; not that every scrupulous or super- 
 stitious prescript is effectual, no more than every strait 
 way is the way to heaven, but the truth of the direc- 
 tion must precede severity of observance. 
 I -w For Cosmetic, it hath parts civil, and parts cffcmi- 
 nate :"fbr cleanness of body was ever esteemed to pro- 
 ceed from a due reverence to God, to society, and to 
 ourselves. As for artificial decoration, it is well wor- 
 thy of the deficiences which it hath ; being neitlier 
 fine enough to deceive, nor handsome to use, nor whole- 
 some to please. 
 ^ For Athletic, I take the subject of itjaxgely, that 
 
 is to say, for any point of ability, whereunto the body 
 of man may be brought, whether it be of activity, or of 
 patience ; whereof activity hath two parts,, stren^h anil 
 swiftness ; and patience likewise hath two parts, hard- 
 ness asaiiist wants and extremities, and indurance of 
 pain and torment, whereof we see the practices in tum- 
 blers, in savages, and in those that suffer punishment : 
 nay, if there be any other faculty which falls not within 
 any of the former divisions, as in those that dive, that 
 obtain a strange power of containing respiration, and 
 the like, 1 refer it to this part. Of tliese things the 
 practices are known, but the philosophy that concern- 
 cth them is not much inquired ; the rather, I think, 
 because they arc supposed to be obtained, cither by an 
 aptness of nature, whioli cannot be taught, or only by 
 continual custom, which is soon prescribed ; which 
 tliougli it be not true, yet I forbear to note any defi- 
 ciences, for tlic Olympian p;ames are down long since, 
 and the mediocrity of these things is for use ; as for 
 tlie excellency of them, it scrveth for the most part 
 but for mercenary ostentation. 
 {/' For arts of Pleasure sensual, the chief deficienccjij 
 them is of laws to repress them. For as it hath been 
 well observed, that the arts which flourish in times 
 while virtue is in growtli, are military, and while vir- 
 tue is in state, arc liberal, and while virtue is in decli-
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 123 
 
 nation, arc voluptuary; so I doubt, tliat this age of the 
 world is somewhat upon the descent of the wheel. With 
 arts voluptuury I couple practices jocuhir ; for the de- 
 ceiving of the senses is one of the pleasures of the senses. 
 As for games of recreation, I hold them to belong to 
 civil life and education. And tlnis much of that par- 
 ticular human philosophy which concerns the body, 
 which is but the tabernacle of the mind. 
 
 Foil Human Knowled^Cj which concerns the Mind, 
 it hatliTwo^iai^s, The oiie that inquiictli of tlic.sub- 
 sta nce or nature of the soul or mind ; the other.tb^'^t 
 inquireth of the faculties or functions thereof. 
 
 Unto tTicTfirsi of tTiesc,'flie considerations of the 
 original of the soul, whether it be native or advcntive, 
 and how far it is exempted from laws of matter, and 
 of the immortality thereof, and many other points, do 
 appertain ; whicli have lieen not more laboriously in- 
 quired than variously reported ; so as the travel therein 
 taken, seemeth to have been rather in a maze than in 
 a way. But although I am of opinion, that this knov/- 
 ledge may be more really and soundly inquired even 
 in nature than it hath been ; yet I hold, that^iii the 
 end it must be bounded by religion^ or else it v.ill be 
 subjecf^fo Jleceit andTdelusiou : for as the substance 
 of the soul fn the creation was not extracted out of 
 the mass of heaven and earth, by the benediction of a 
 producat, but was immediately inspired from God; so 
 it is not possible that it should be, otherwise than by 
 accident, subject to the laws of heaven and earth, which 
 are the subject of philosophy ; and therefore the true 
 knowledge of the nature, and state of the soul, must 
 come by the same inspiration that gave the substance. 
 Unto this part of knowledge touching the soul there 
 be two appendixes, which, as they have been handled, 
 have rather vapoured forth fables than kindled truth, 
 divination, and fascination. 
 
 Divination hath been anciently and fitly divided 
 into arFifrcial, and natural : whereof artificial is, when 
 the mind maketh a prediction by argument, concluding 
 upon signs and, tokens : natmal is, vyhen the mind hath 
 a presentiou by an internal j)ower, without the induce-
 
 126 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 ment of a sign. Artificial is of two sorts, either when 
 the argument is coupled with a derivation of causes, 
 which is rational ; or when it is only grounded upon 
 a coincidence of the effect, which is experimental ; 
 whereof the latter for the most part is superstitious : 
 such as were the heathen ohservations upon the in- 
 spection of sacrifices, the flights of birds, the swarm- 
 ing of bees, and such as was the Chaldean astrology, 
 and the like. For artificial divination, the several 
 kinds thereof are distributed amongst particular know- 
 ledges. The astronomer hath his predictions, as of 
 conjunctions, aspects^ eclipses, and the like. The phy- 
 sician hath his predictions, of death, of recovery, of the 
 accidents and issues of diseases. The politician hath 
 his predictions ; " O urbem venalem, et cito peritu- 
 ram, si emptorem invenerit ! " which stayed not long 
 to be performed in Sylla first, and after in Caesar ; so 
 as these predictions are now impertinent, and to be 
 referred over. But the divination which spriiigeth 
 from the internal nature of the soul, is that which we 
 now speak of, which hath been made to be of two sorts, 
 primitive, and by influxion. Primitive is grounded 
 upon the supposition, that the mind, when it is with- 
 drawn and collected into itself, and not diffused into 
 the organs of the body, hath some extent and latitude 
 of prenotion, which therefore appeareth most in sleep, 
 in extasics, and near death, and more rarely in w^aking 
 apprehensions ; and is induced and furthered by those 
 abstinences and observances which make the mind 
 most to consist in itself By influxion, is grounded 
 upon the conceit that the mind, as a mirror or glass, 
 should take illumination from the foreknowledge of 
 God and spirits ; unto which the same regiment doth 
 likewise conduce. For the retiring of the mind within 
 itself, is the state which is most susceptible of divine 
 influxions, save that it is accompanied in this case witli 
 a fervency and elevation, which the ancients noted by fu- 
 ry, and not with a repose and quiet, as it is in the other. 
 Fascination is the power and act of imagination more 
 intensive upon other bodies than tlie body of tlie imagi- 
 nant : for of that we speak in the proper place; wherein
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OK EEAllNING. 127 
 
 the scliool of Paracelsus, and the disciples of pretended 
 natiu-al magic, have been so intemperate, as they have 
 exalted the power of the imagination to be much one 
 witlrthc power of miracle-working faith : others, that 
 draw^ltcarer to probability, calling to their view the 
 secret passages of things, and especially of the conta- 
 gion that passeth from body to body, do conceive it 
 should likewise be agreeable to nature, that there 
 should be somctransniissionsand operations from spirit 
 to spirit without the mediation of the senses : whence 
 the conceits have grown, now almost made civil, of the 
 mastering spirit, and the force of confidence, and the 
 like. Incident unto this is the inquiry how to raise and 
 fortify the imagination ; for if the imagination fortified 
 have power, then it is material to know how to fortify 
 and exalt it. And herein comes in crookedly and dan- 
 gerously, a palliation of a great part of ceremonial ma- 
 gic. For it may be pretended, that ceremonies, charac- 
 ters, and charms, do work, not by any tacit or sacra- 
 mental contract with evil spirits, but serve only to 
 strengthen the imagination of him that useth it ; as 
 images are said by the Koman church to fix the cogi- 
 tations, and raise the devotions of them that pray be- 
 fore them. I5ut for mine ownjudgment, if it be admit- 
 ted that imagination Iiatli power, and that ceremonies 
 fortify imngination, and that they be used sincerely 
 and fntentionally for that purpose ; yet I should hold 
 thein Uni^awiiil, as opposing to that first edict which 
 God gavclVnto man, " In sudore vultus comedes panem 
 tuimi." For tliey propound those noble effects, which 
 God hatli set forth unto man to be bought at the price 
 of labour, to be attained by a few easy and slothful 
 observances. Deficiencies in these knowledges I will 
 report none, other than the general deficience, that it 
 is not known how much of them is verity, and how 
 much vanity. 
 
 The knowledge Avhicli rcspectcth the faculties of the W ^'"'^ 
 
 mind of man, is of two khids ; the one fcspcctiTig his . 
 
 [understanding and rjcason^ and tlie other hisjvillj ap- 1 
 
 'petite, and affection ; whereof the fornier produceth I 
 
 dircdigjU^r decfee,"'tlie Litter action or execution. It is
 
 128 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 true that the imagination js an ag^eut or nuncius in 
 both provinces, both the judicial and the miiuste"riall 
 For sense sendeth over to imagination before reason 
 have judged, and reason sendeth over to imagination 
 before the decree can be acted : for imagination ever 
 precedeth vokmtary motion, saving that this Janus of 
 imagination hath differing faces ; for the face towards 
 reason hath the print of truth, but the face towards 
 action hath the print of good, which nevertheless are 
 faces, 
 
 Quales decet esse sororum. 
 Neither is the imagination simply and only a messen- 
 ger, but is invested with, or at leastwise usurpeth no 
 small authority in itself, besides the duty of the mes- 
 sage. For it was well said by Aristotle, " That the 
 mind hath over the body that commandment, which 
 the lord hath over a bondman ; but that reason hath 
 over the imagination that commandment, which a ma- 
 gistrate hath over a free citizen," who may come also 
 to rule in his turn. For we see that, in matteisuofjGaith 
 and religion, we raise our imagination above our rea- 
 son, wdiich is the cause why religion sought ever ac- 
 cess to the mind by similitudes, types, parables, visions, 
 dreams. And again, in all persuasions, that are ^vl•ought 
 by eloquence, and other impressions of like nature, 
 wliich do paint and disguise the true appearance of 
 things, the chief recommendation unto reason is from 
 the imagination. Nevertheless, because I find not 
 any science that doth properly or fitly pertain to the 
 imagination, I see no cause to alter the former division. 
 For as for poesy, it is rather pleasure, or play of ima- 
 gination, than a work or duty thereof. And if it be 
 a work, we speak not now of such parts of learning as 
 the imagination produceth, but of such sciences as 
 handle and consider of the imagination ; no more than 
 we shall speak now of such knowledges as reason pro- 
 duceth, for that cxtendeth to all philosophy, but of 
 such knowledges as do handle and inquire of the fa- 
 culty of reason ; so as poesy had its true place. As 
 for tlie power of the imagination in nature, and the 
 manner of fortifying the same, we have mentioned it in
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 129 
 
 the doctrine " T>c aiiima," whereiinto most fitly it bc- 
 longctli : and lastly, for imaginative or insinuative rea- 
 son, which is tlie subject of rhetoric, we think it best 
 to refer it to the arts of reason. So therefore we con- 
 tent ourselves with the former division, that Human 
 Philosox)lTQ^^which resx}ectQth tlic faeultics of tlic'mintr 
 of man, hath two parts, Rational and IVIoral. 
 
 The part of Human PliiTosopliy which is Rational, 
 is of all knowledges, to the most wits, theTcast (Te- 
 liglitful, and scemeth but a net of subtilty and spino- 
 sity : for as it was truly said, that knowledge is " pa- 
 bulum animi ; " so in the nature of mens appetite to 
 this food, most men are of the taste and stomach of the 
 Israelites in the desert, that would fain have returned 
 " ad ollas carnium," and were weary of manna; which 
 thougli it were celestial, yet seemed less nutritive 
 and comfortable. So generally men taste well know- 
 ledges that are drenched in flesh and blood, civil his- 
 tory, morality, policy, about the which mens affections, 
 praises, fortunes, do turn and are conversant ; but this 
 same " lumen siccum " doth parch and offend most 
 mens watery and soft natures. But to speak truly of 
 things as they are in worth, " rational knowledges '' arc 
 the keys of all other arts ; for as Aristotle saith aptly 
 and elegantly, " That the hand is the instrument of 
 instruments, and the mind is the form of forms ; " so 
 these be truly said to be the art of arts ; neither do 
 they only direct, but likewise confirm and strengthen : 
 even as the habit of shooting doth not only enable to 
 shoot a nearer shoot, but also to draw a stronger bow. 
 
 The^rts intellectual are four in number, divided ac- 
 cording to tlie eiids whereiiiito they are referred ; for 
 man's labour is to invent that which is sought or pro- 
 pounded ; or to judge that which is invented ; or to 
 retain that which is judged ; or to deliver over that 
 which is retained. vSo as the arts must be four ; art • 
 of ingiiir^ or invention ; art of examination or judg- - 
 ment ;'art of custody or mempry ; and art_of elociition 
 or tradition. 
 
 Inveiition is of two kinds, much differing ; the one 
 of arts and sciences, and the other of speech and argu-
 
 130 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Boolc II. 
 
 raeiits. -The formeiiQfjtliese I jlp report deficient ; 
 which seemeth to mc to be such a deficience, as if in 
 the making of an inventory, touching the state of a 
 defunct, it shoukl be set down, That there is no ready 
 money. For as money will fetch all other commodi- 
 ties, so this knowledge is that which should purchase 
 all the rest. And like as the West-Indies had never 
 been discovered, if the use of the mariner's needle had 
 not been first discovered, though the one be vast regions, 
 and the other a small motion ; so it cannot be found 
 strange, if sciences be no farther discovered, if the art 
 itself of invention and discovery hath been passed over. 
 That .tlm part of knowledge is wanting, to _my 
 judgmejit, standeth plainly confessed : for first, logic 
 doth not pretend to invent sciences, or the axioms of 
 sciences, but passeth it over with a cuique in sua arte 
 credendum. And Celsus acknowledgeth it gravely, 
 speaking of the empirical and dogmatical sects of 
 physicians, " That medicines and cures were first found 
 out, and then after the reasons and causes were dis- 
 coursed ; and not the causes first found out, and by 
 light from them the medicines and cures discovered." 
 And Plato, in his Thecetetus> noteth well, " That par- 
 ticulars are infinite, and the higher generalities give no 
 sufficient direction ; and that the pith of all sciences, 
 which maketh the artsman differ from the inexpert, is 
 in the middle propositions, which in every particular 
 knowledge are taken from tradition and experience." 
 And therefore we see, that they which discoAU'SQ,, of the 
 inventions and originals"oF things, refer them rather to 
 chance than to art, and rather to beasts, birds, fishes, 
 serpents, than to men. 
 
 Dictamnum genetrix Crctaea carpit ab Ida, 
 Puberibus caulom foliis, ct flore comantcin 
 Purpurco : non ilia feris incognita capris, 
 Graniina cum tor<>;o vokicrcs hajserc sagittoe. 
 
 So that it was no marvel, the manner of antiquity 
 being to consecrate inventors, that the A^^igyi)tians had 
 so few human idols in their temples, butalmost all brute; 
 
 Omnigcminiquc Dcmn moiistra, ct latiator Aniibis, 
 Contra Ncptunum, ct Vcnorom, contracjuc Minervatn, etc.
 
 Book II.] xVUVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. ISl 
 
 And if you like better the tradition of the Grecians, 
 and ascribe the first inventions to men, yet you will 
 rather believe that Prometheus first struck the flints, 
 and marvelled at the spark, than that when he first 
 struck the flints he expected the spark ; and therefore 
 we sec the West-Indian Prometheus had no intelli- 
 gence with the European, because of the rareness 
 with them of flint, that gave the first occasion : so as 
 it should seem, that hitherto men are rather beholden 
 to a wild goat for surgery, or to a nightingale for music, 
 or to the ibis for some part of physic, or to the potlid 
 that flew open for artillery, or generally to chance, or 
 any thing else, than to logic, for the invention of 
 arts and sciences. Neither is the form of invention 
 which Virgil describeth much other. 
 
 Ut varias usus meditando extunderet artes 
 Paulatim. 
 
 For if you observe the words well, it is no other me- 
 thod than that which brute beasts are capable of and do 
 put in ure ; which is a perpetual intending or practi- 
 sing some one thing, urged and imposed by an abso- 
 lute necessity of conservation of being ; for so Cicero 
 saith very truly, " Usus uni rei deditus, et naturam et 
 artem saepe vincit." And therefore if it be said of men. 
 
 Labor omnia vincit 
 Improbus, et duris urgens in rebus egestas ; 
 
 it is likewise said of beasts, "Quis psittaco docuit suum 
 ;;^a7^: ; " Who taught the raven in a drought to throw 
 pebbles into an hollow tree, where she espied water, 
 that the water might rise so as she might come to it ? 
 Who taught the bee to sail through such a vast sea of 
 air, and to find the way from a field in flower, a great 
 way off, to her hive ? Who taught the ant to bite 
 every grain of corn that she burieth in her hill, lest it 
 should take root and grow^? Add then the word e.vtun- 
 dere, which importeth the extreme difficulty ; and the 
 word paulatuji, which importeth the extreme slowness; 
 and we are where we were, even amongst the -Egyptian 
 gods ; there being little left to the faculty of reason, and 
 nothing to the duty of art, for matter of invention. 
 Secondly, the induction which the logicians speak
 
 132 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 of, and which seeineth famiUar vvitli Plato, whereby 
 the princijiles of sciences may be pretended to be 
 invented, and so the middle propositions by derivation 
 from the principles ; their form of induction, I say, is 
 utterly vicious and incompetent ; wherein their error 
 is the fouler, because it is the duty of art to perfect and 
 exalt nature ; but they contrariwise have wronged, 
 abused, and traduced nature. For he that shall at- 
 tentively observe how tlie mind doth gather this ex- 
 cellent dew of knowledge, like unto that which the poet 
 speaketh of, " Aerei mellis ccelestia dona," distilling 
 and contriving it out of particulars natural and artifi- 
 cial, as the flowers of the field and garden, shall find, 
 that the mind of herself by nature doth manage and 
 act an induction much better than they describe it. 
 For to conclude upon an enumeration of particulars 
 without instance contradictory, is no conclusion, but 
 a conjecture ; for who can assure, in many subjects, 
 upon those particulars which appear of a side, that there 
 are not other on the contrary side which appear not. 
 As if Samuel should have rested upon those sons of 
 Jesse, which were brought before him, and failed of 
 David which was in the field. And this form, to say 
 truth, is so gross, as it had not been possible for wits so 
 subtile, as have managed these things, to have offered 
 it to the world, but that they hasted to their theories 
 and dogmaticals, and were imperious and scornful to- 
 ward particulars, which their manner was to use but 
 as lictores and viatoi^es, for Serjeants and whifflers, ad 
 summoveudam turbam, to make way and make room 
 for their opinions, rather than in their true use and 
 service : certainly it is a thing may touch a man with 
 a religious wonder to see liow the footsteps of seducc- 
 ment are the very same in divine and human truth ; 
 for as in divine truth man cannot endure to become as 
 a child ; so in human, they reputed the attending the 
 inductions, whereof wc speak, as if it were a second 
 infancy or childhood. 
 
 Thirdly, allow some principles or axioms were 
 rightly induced, yet nevertliclcss certain it is tliat 
 middle propositions cannot be deduced from them in
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF I,EARNING. 133 
 
 subject of nature by syllogism, that is, by touch and 
 reduction of them to principles in a middle term. 
 It is true that in sciences popular, as moralities, laws, 
 and the like; yea and divinity, because it pleascth God 
 to apply himself to the capacity of the simplest, that 
 form may have use, and in natural philosophy likewise, 
 by way of argument or satisfactory reason, " Quae as- 
 sensum parit, operis efFoeta est ; " but the subtilty of 
 nature and operations will not be enchained in those 
 bonds ; for arguments consist of propositions, and pro- 
 jwsitions of wwds, and words are but the current to- 
 kens or marks of popular notions of things ; which 
 notions, if they be grossly and variably collected out of 
 particulars, it is not the laborious examination cither 
 of consequences of arguments, or of the truth of jiropo- 
 sitions, that can ever correct that error, being, as the 
 physicians speak, in the first digestion ; and therefore 
 it was not without cause, that so many excellent phi- 
 losophers became sceptics and academics, and denied 
 any certainty of knowledge or comprehension, and held 
 opinion, that the knowledge of man extended only to 
 appearances and probabilities. It is true that in So- 
 crates it was supposed to be but a form of irony, 
 *' Scientiam dissimulando simulavit : " for he used to 
 disable his knowledge, to the end to enhance his know- 
 ledge, like the humour of Tiberius in his beginnings, 
 that would reign, but would not acknowledge so much ; 
 and in the later academy, which Cicero embraced, this 
 opinion also of acatalepsia, I doubt, was not held sin- 
 cerely : for that all those which excelled in copy of 
 speech, seem to have chosen that sect as that which 
 was fittest to give glory to their eloquence, and varia- 
 ble discourses ; being rather like progresses of plea- 
 sure, than jounieys to an end. But assuredly many 
 scattered in both academies did hold it in subtilty and 
 integrity. But here was their chief error ; they charged 
 the deceit upon the senses, which in my judgment, 
 notwithstanding all their cavillations, are very suffi- 
 cient to certify and report truth, though not ahvays 
 immediately, yet by comparison, by help of instru- 
 ment, and by producing and urging such things as 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 134 ADVANCEMENT OF LEATINING. [Book II. 
 
 are too subtile for the sense, to some effect compre- 
 hensible by the sense, and other Hke assistance. But 
 they ought to have charged the deceit upon the weak- 
 ness of the intellectual powers, and upon the manner 
 of collecting and concluding upon the reports of the 
 senses. This I speak not to disable the mind of man, 
 but to stir it up to seek help : for no man, be he never 
 so cunning or practised, can make a straight line or 
 perfect circle by steadiness of hand, which may be 
 easily done by help of a ruler or compass. 
 Experientia This part of invention, concerning the invention 
 literata, et of scicuces, I purposc, if God givc me leave, hereafter to 
 tio naturaj. propouud, liavlug digested it into two parts ; whereof 
 the one I term cvperientia literata^ and the other in- 
 terpretatio natures : the former being but a degree 
 and rudiment of the latter. But I will not dwell too 
 long, nor speak too great upon a promise. 
 
 The invention of speech or argument is not properly 
 an invention : for to invent, is to discover that avo 
 know not, and not to recover or resummon that which 
 we already know ; and the use of this invention is no 
 other, but out of the knowledge, whereof our mind is 
 already possessed, to draw forth or call before us that 
 which may be pertinent to the purpose which we take 
 into our consideration. So as, to speak truly, it is no 
 invention, but a remembrance or suggestion, witli an 
 application ; which is the cause why the schools do 
 place it after judgment, as subsequent and not prece- 
 dent. Nevertheless, because we do account it a chace, 
 as well of deer in an inclosed park, as in a forest at 
 large, and that it hath already obtained the name ; let 
 it be called invention, so as it be perceived and dis- 
 cerned that the scope and end of this invention is rea- 
 diness and present use of our knowledge, and not 
 addition or amplification thereof 
 
 To procure this ready use of knowledge there are 
 two courses, preparation and suggestion. The former 
 of these seemeth scarcely a part of knowledge, con- 
 sisting rather of diligence than of any artificial eru- 
 dition. And herein Aristotle wittily, but hurtfully, 
 doth deride the sophists near his time, saying, " They
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 135 
 
 did as if one that professed the art of shoemaking 
 should not teach liow to make up a shoe, but only 
 exhibit in a readiness a number of slioes of all fashions 
 and sizes." But yet a man might reply, that if a shoe- 
 maker should have no shoes in his shop, but only work 
 as he is bespoken, he should be weakly customed. 
 But our Saviour, speaking of divine knowledge, saith, 
 " that the kingdom of heaven is like a good house- 
 holder, that bringeth forth both new and old store:" and 
 we see the ancient writers of rhetoric do give it in pre- 
 cept that pleaders should have the places whereof they 
 have most continual use, ready handled in all the variety 
 that may be ; as that, to speak for the literal inter- 
 pretation of the law against equity, and contrary; 
 and to speak for presumptions and inferences against 
 testimony, and contrary. And Cicero himself, being 
 broken unto it by great experience, delivereth it 
 plainly ; that whatsoever a man shall have occasion 
 to speak of, if he will take the pains, may have it in 
 effect premeditate, and handled iji thesi : so that when 
 he comcth to a particular, he shall have nothing to do, 
 but to put to names, and times, and places, and such 
 other circumstances of individuals. We see like\\ise 
 the exact diligence of Demosthenes, who in regard of 
 the great force that the entrance and access into causes 
 hath to make a good impression, had ready framed a 
 number of prefaces for orations and speeches. All 
 which authorities and precedents may overweigh Aris- 
 totle's opinion, that would have us change a rich ward- 
 robe for a pair of shears. 
 
 But the nature of the collection of this provision 
 or preparatory store, though it be common both to logic 
 and rhetoric, yet having made an entry of it here, 
 where it came first to be spoken of, I think fit to refer 
 over the farther handling of it to rhetoric. 
 
 The other part of invention, which I term sugges- 
 tion, doth assign and direct us to certain marks or 
 places, which may excite our mind to retiu'u and pro- 
 duce such knowledge, as it hath formerly collected, 
 to the end we may make use thereof. Neither is this 
 use, truly taken, only to furnish argument to dispute 
 
 K 2
 
 136 
 
 ADVANCEMENT Ol I.EAliNING. [Book II. 
 
 i^^) 
 
 M-V 
 
 probably with others, but likewise to minister unto 
 our judgment to conclude aright within ourselves. 
 Neither may these places serve only to prom])t our in- 
 vention, but also to direct our inquiry. For a faculty 
 of wise interrogating is half a knowledge. For as Plato 
 saith, " Whosoever seeketh, knoweth that which he 
 seeketh for in a general notion, else how shall he 
 know it when he hath found it? " And therefore the 
 larger your anticipation is, the more direct and com- 
 pendious is your search. But the same places which 
 will help us what to produce of that which we know 
 already, will also help us, if a man of experience were 
 before us, what questions to ask : or, if we have books 
 and authors to instruct us, what points to search and 
 revolve : so as I cannot report, that this part of inven- 
 tion, which is that which the schools call topics, is 
 deficient. 
 
 Nevertheless topics are of two sorts, general and 
 special. The general we have spoken to, but the par- 
 ticular hath been touched by some, but rejected gene- 
 rally as inartificial and variable. But leaving the 
 liumour which hath reigned too much in the schools, 
 which is, to be vainly subtile in a few things, which arc 
 within their command, and to reject the rest, I do re- 
 ceive particular topics, that is, places or directions of in- 
 vention and inquiry in every particular knowledge, as 
 things of great use, being mixtures of logic with the 
 matter of sciences : for in these it holdeth, " Ars invc- 
 niendi adolescit cum inventis;" for as in going of away, 
 we do not only gain that part of the way which is passed, 
 but we gain the better sight of that part of the way 
 which remaineth; so every degree of proceeding in a sci- 
 ence giveth a light to that which foUoweth, which light 
 if we strengthen, by drawing it forth into questions or 
 places of inquiry, we do greatly advance our pursuit. 
 
 Now we pass unto the arts of judgment, -i^Mch 
 handle the natures of proofs and demonstrations^^ which 
 as to induction hath a coincidence with invention : for 
 in all inductions, whether in good or vicious form, the 
 same action of the mind which invcnteth, judgeth^ 
 all one as in .the sense : but otherwise it is in proof by 
 syllogism ; for the proof being not immediate, but by
 
 Rook rr.] ADVANCKMKNT OT T>EAUNING. 137 
 
 mean, the invcntioii of the mean is one thing, and the \ 
 jndgmeiit of the consequence is another; the one ex- I 
 citing only, the other examining Therefore, for the 
 real and exact form of judgment, we refer ourselves to 
 that which we have spoken of interpretation of nature. 
 
 For the other judgment hy syllogism, as it is a 
 thing most agrecahlc> to tlic mind of man, so it hath 
 heen vehemently and excellently lahoured : for the 
 nature of man doth extremely covet to have somewhat 
 in his imderstauding fixed and unmoveable, and as a 
 rest and support of the mind. And therefore as Aris- 
 totle endeavoureth to prove, that in all motion there 
 is some point quiescent ; and as he elegantly expound- 
 eth the ancient fable of Atlas, that stood fixed, and 
 bare up the heaven from falling, to be meant of the 
 poles or axle-tree of heaven, whereupon the conver- 
 sion is accomplished ; so assuredly men have a desire 
 to have an Atlas or axle-tree within, to keep them 
 from fluctuation, which is like to a perpetual peril of 
 falling ; therefore men did hasten to set down some 
 principles about which tlie variety of their disputa- 
 tions might turn. 
 
 So then this art of judgment is but the reduction 
 of propositions to principles in a middle term,. The 
 principles to be agreed by all, and exempted from ar- 
 gument ilhe midcTle term to be elected at the liberty 
 of every man's invention : the reduction to be of two 
 kinds, direct and inverted ; the one when the proposi- 
 tion is reduced to the principle, which they term a 
 probation ostensive ; the other, when the contradictory 
 of the proposition is reduced to the contradictory of 
 the principle, which is that which they call po' incom- 
 modiwi, or pressing an absurdity ; the number of mid- 
 dle terms to be as the proposition standeth degrees 
 more or less removed from the principle. 
 
 But this art hath two several methods of doctrine, 
 the one by way of direction, the other by way of cau- 
 tion ; the former frameth and setteth down a true form 
 of consequence, by the variations and deflections from 
 which errors and inconsequences may be exactly 
 judged. Toward the composition and structure of
 
 138 ADVANCEMENT OF LEAllNING. [Book II. 
 
 which form it is iiiciclent to handle the parts thereof, 
 which are propositions, and the parts of propositions, 
 which are simple words ; and this is that part of logic 
 which is comprehended in the analytics. 
 
 The second method of doctrine was introduced for 
 expedite use and assurance sake discovering the more 
 subtile forms of sophisms and illaqueations, with their 
 redargutions, which is that which is termed clenches. 
 For although in the more gross sorts of fallacies it 
 happeneth, as Seneca maketh the comparison well, as 
 in juggling feats, which though we know not how they 
 are done, yet we know well it is not as it seemeth to 
 be , yet the more subtile sort of them doth not only 
 put a man besides his answer, bvit doth many times 
 abuse his judgment. 
 
 This part concerning Elenches is excellently han- 
 dled by Aristotle in precept, but more excellently by 
 Plato in example ; not only in the persons of the so- 
 phists, but even in Socrates himself, who professing 
 to affirm nothing, but to infirm that which was 
 affirmed by another, hath exactly expressed all the 
 forms of objection, fallacy, and redargution. And 
 although we have said that the use of this doctrine 
 is for redargution ; yet it is manifest, the degenerate 
 and corrupt use is for caption and contradiction, 
 which passeth for a great faculty, and no doubt is of 
 very great advantage, though the diffi2rence be good 
 which was made between orators and sophisters, that 
 the one is as the greyhound, which hath liis advan- 
 tage in the race, and the other as the hare, which hath 
 her advantage in the turn, so as it is the advantage of 
 the weaker creature. 
 
 But yet farther, this doctrine of Elenches hath a 
 more ample latitude and extent, than is perceived ; 
 namely, unto divers parts of knowledge; whereof some 
 are laboured, and others omitted. For first, I con- 
 ceive, though it may seem at first somewhat strange, 
 that that part which is variably referred, sometimes to 
 logic, sometimes to metaphysic, touching the common 
 adjuncts of essences, is but an Elcnche ; for the great 
 sophism of all sophisms being equivocation or ambi-
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT Ol- LEAllNINCJ. 139 
 
 giiity of words and plirasc, especially of such words as 
 arc most general and intervene in every inquiry ; it 
 seemetli to nie that the true and fruitful uses, leaving 
 vain subtilties and speculations, of the inquiry of ma- 
 jority, minority, priority, posteriority, identity, diversi- 
 ty, possibility, act, totality, parts, existence, privation, 
 and the like, arc but wdse cautions against ambigui- 
 ties of speech. Ho again, the distribution of things 
 into certain tribes, which we call categories or predi- 
 caments, are but cautions against the confusion of de- 
 finitions and divisions. 
 
 Secondly, there is a scducement that worketh by 
 the strength of the impression, and not by the sub- 
 tilty of the illaqucation, not so much perplexing the 
 reason, as over-ruling it by power of the imagination. 
 But this j)art I think more proper to handle, v;hen I 
 shall speak of rlietoric. 
 
 But lastly, there is yet a much more important and 
 profound kind of fallacies in the mind of man, which 
 1 find not observed or inquired at all, and think good 
 to place here, as that which of all others appertaineth 
 most to rectify judgment : the force whereof is such, 
 as it doth not dazzle or snare the understanding in 
 some particulars, but doth more generally and in- 
 wardly infect and corrupt the state thereof. For the 
 mind of man is far from the nature of a clgai'-and 
 equal glass, wherein the beams of things should reflect 
 according to their true incidence ; nay, it is rather 
 like an inchanted glass, full of superstition and im- 
 posture, if rtHbciiot delivered and reduced. For this 
 purpose, let us consider the false appearances that are 
 imposed upon us by the general nature of the mind, 
 beholding them in an example or two ; as first in that 
 instance which is the root of all superstition, namely, 
 that to the nature of the mind of all men it is conso- 
 nant for the affirmative or active to effect, more than 
 the negative or privative. So that a few times hit- 
 ting, or presence, countervails oft-times failing, or 
 absence ; as was well answered by Diagoras to him 
 that showed him, in Neptune's temple, the great 
 number of pictures of such as had escaped shipwreck,
 
 140 ADVANCEMENT OF LEAKNING. [Book IL 
 
 and had paid their vows to Neptune, saying, " Ad- 
 vise now, you that think it folly to invocate Neptune 
 in tempest. Yea, but, saith Diagoras, where are they 
 painted that are drowned ? " Let us behold it in an- 
 other instance, namely. That the spirit of man, be- 
 ing of an equal .and uniform substance, doth usually 
 suppose and feign in nature a greater equality and 
 uniformity than is in truth." Hence it cometh, that 
 the mathematicians cannot satisfy themselves, except 
 they reduce the motions of the celestial bodies to per- 
 fect circles, rejecting spiral lines, and labouring to 
 be discharged of eccentrics. Hence it cometh, that 
 whereas there are many things in nature, as it were, 
 monodica, sui juris ; yet the cogitations of man do 
 feign unto them relatives, parallels, and conjugates, 
 whereas no such thing is ; as they have feigned an 
 element of fire to keep square with earth, water, and 
 air, and the like ; nay, it is not credible, till it be 
 opened, what a number of fictions and fantasies, the 
 similitude of human actions and arts, together with 
 the making of man co)nmunis mensura^ have brought 
 into natural philosophy, not much better than the he- 
 resy of the Anthropomorphites, bred in the cells of 
 gross and solitary monks, and the opinion of Epicurus, 
 answerable to the same in heathenism, who supjiosed 
 the gods to be of human shape. And therefore Velleius 
 the Epicurean needed not to have asked, why God 
 should have adorned the heavens with stars, as if he 
 had been an iEdilis ; one that should have set forth 
 some magnificent shows or plays. For if that great 
 work-master had been of an human disposition, he 
 would have cast the stars into some pleasant and beau- 
 tiful works and orders, like the frets in the roofs of 
 houses; whereas one can scarce find a posture in square, 
 or triangle, or straight line, amongst such an infinite 
 number ; so differing an harmony there is between the 
 spirit of man, and the spirit of nature. 
 
 Let us consider, again, the false appearances imposed 
 upon us by every man's own individual nature and cus- 
 tom, in that feigned supposition that Plato maketh 
 of the cave ; for certainly, if a child were continued
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 141 
 
 in a grot or cave under the earth until maturity of age, 
 and came suddenly abroad, he would have strange and 
 absurd imaginations. So in like manner, although 
 our persons live in the view of heaven, yet our spirits 
 are included in the caves of our own complexions and 
 customs, which minister unto us infinite errors and vain 
 opinions, if they be not recalled to examination. But 
 hereof we have given many examples in one of the 
 errors, or peccant humours, which we ran briefly over 
 in our first book. 
 
 And lastly, let us consider the false appearances that 
 are imposed upon us by words, which are framed and 
 applied according to the conceit and capacities of the 
 vulgar sort ; and although we think we govern our 
 words, and prescribe it well, " Loquendum ut vulgus, 
 sentiendum ut sapientes ;" yet certain it is, that words, 
 as a Tartar's bow, do shoot back upon the understand- 
 ing of the wisest, and mightily intangle and pervert 
 the judgment ; so as it is almost necessary in all con- 
 troversies and disputations, to imitate the wisdom of 
 the mathematics, in setting down in the very begin- 
 ning the definitions of our very words and terms, that 
 others may know how we accept and understand them, 
 and whether they concur with us or no. For it cometh 
 to pass, for want of this, that we are sure to end there 
 where we ought to have begun, which is in questions 
 and differences about words. To conclude therefore, Eicndii 
 it must be confessed that it is not possible to clivorce XTde 
 ourselves fmm these fallacies and false appearances, idpii* ani- 
 because they are inseparable from our nature and con- ""tivirct' 
 dition of life ; so yet nevertheless the caution of them, advcmitiis. 
 for all clenches, as was said, are but cautions, doth 
 extremely import the true conduct of human judg- 
 ment. The particular clenches or cautions against 
 these three false appearances, I find altogether de- 
 ficient. 
 
 There remaineth one part of judgment of great 
 excellency, which to mine understanding is so slightly 
 touched, as I may report that also deficient ; which is, 
 the application of the differing kinds of proofs to the 
 differing khids of siibjects ; for there being' but four
 
 X42 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 De ana- \ kinds of dcmoiistrations,that is, by the immediate con- 
 moZiT^' I sent of the mind or sense, hy indiiction_, by sytlogism, 
 tioiium. I and by^eongruity ; which is that which Aristotle call- 
 ^ etir^emonstration in orb, or circle, and not a notiori- 
 bus ; every of these Jiath certain subjects in the. mat- 
 ter ^f sciences, in which respectively they hay cchief- 
 est use ; and certain others, from which respectively 
 they ought to be excluded, and the rigour and curio- 
 sity in requiring the more severe proofs in some things, 
 and chiefly the facility in contenting ourselves with 
 the more remiss proofs in others, hath been amongst 
 the greatest causes of detriment and hindrance to know- 
 ledge. The distributions and assignations of demon- 
 strations, according to the analogy of sciences, I note 
 as deficient. 
 
 Tlie custody or retaining of knowledge is either in 
 writing or memory ; whereof writing hath tW(T~pni*ts, 
 the nature of the character, and the order of the entry: 
 for the art of characters, or other visible notes of words 
 or things, it hath nearest conjugation with grammar; 
 and therefore I refer it to the due place : for the dis- 
 position and collocation of that knowledge which we 
 preserve in writing, it consisteth in a good digest of 
 common-places wherein I am not ignorant of the pre- 
 judice imputed to the use of common-place books, as 
 causing a retardation of reading, and some sloth or re- 
 laxation of memory. But because it is but a counter- 
 feit thing in knowledges to be forward and pregnant, 
 except a man be deep and full, I hold the entry of 
 common-places to be a matter of great use and essence 
 in studying, as that which assureth copy of invention, 
 and contracteth judgment to a strength. But this is 
 true, that of the methods of common-places that I 
 have seen, there is none of any sufficient worth, all of 
 them carrying merely the face of a school, and not of 
 a world, and referring to vulgar matters, and pedan- 
 tical divisions, without all life, or respect to action. 
 
 For tlie other principal part of the custody of know- 
 ledge, which is memory, I find that facility in my 
 judgment weakly inquired of An art there is extant 
 of it ; but it scemcth to me that there are better pre-
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 143 
 
 cepts than that art, and hcttcr practices of that art, 
 than those received. It is certain the art, as it is, may 
 be raised to points of ostentation prodigious : but iu 
 use, as it is now managed, it is barren, not burden- 
 some, nor dangerous to naturaTnicmory, as is imagined, 
 but barren ; that is, not dexterous to be applied to the 
 serious use of business and occasions. And therefore 
 I make no more estimation of repeating a great num- 
 ber of names or words upon once hearing, or the pour- 
 ing forth of a number of verses or rhimes ej: tempore, 
 or the making of a satirical simile of every thing, or 
 the turning of every thing to a jest, or the falsifying 
 or contradicting of every thing by cavil, or the like, 
 whereof in the faculties of the mind there is great 
 copia, and such as by device and practice may be ex- 
 alted to an extreme degree of wonder, than I do of the 
 tricks of tumblers, funambuloes, baladines ; the one 
 being the same in the mind, that the other is in the 
 body ; matters of strangeness without worthiness. 
 
 This art of memory is but built upou two intentions; 
 the one prenotion, the otlier emblem. Prenotion dis- 
 chargeth the indefinite seeking of that we would re- 
 meiiiTjgf^and directeth us to seek in a narrow compass ; 
 that is, somewhat that hath congruity with our place 
 of memory. Emblem reduceth conceits intellectual 
 to images seusiblej, which strike the memory more ; 
 out of which axioms may be drawn much better prac- 
 tic than that in use : and besides which axioms, there 
 are divers more touching help of memory, not inferior 
 to them. But I did in the beginning distinguish, 
 not to report those things deficient, which are but only 
 ill managed. 
 
 There remaineth the fourth kind of rational know- ^\ 
 ledge, which is transitive, concerning the expressing 
 or transferri^ig^our knowledge to others, which I will 
 term byTTie general name of tradition or delivery. 
 Tradition hatli tbree parts : the first concerning the 
 ^ organ of tradition ; the second, concerning the method 
 of tradition ; and the third, concerning the illustra- 
 tion of tradition. 
 
 For the. organ of tradition, it is cither speech or "^
 
 144 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNIN(;. [Book II. 
 
 writing: for Aristotle saith well, "Words arcthe images 
 of cogitations, and letters are the images of words;" 
 but yet it is not of necessity that cogitations be ex- 
 pressed by the medium of words. For whatsoever is 
 capable of sufficient differences, and those perceptible 
 by the sense, is in nature competent to express cogi- 
 tations. And therefore we see in the commerce of 
 barbarous people, that understand not one another's 
 language, and in the practice of divers that are dumb 
 and deaf, that mens minds are expressed in gestures, 
 though not exactly, yet to serve the turn. And we 
 understand farther, that it is the use of China, and 
 the kingdoms of the high Levant, to write in charac- 
 ters real, which express neither letters nor words in 
 gross, but things or notions ; insomuch as countries and 
 provinces, which understand not one another's lan- 
 guage, can nevertheless read one another's writings, 
 because the characters are accepted more generally than 
 the languages do extend ; and therefore they have a 
 vast multitude of characters, as many, I suppose, as 
 radical words. 
 
 These notes of cogitations are of two sorts ; the one 
 when the note hath some similitude or congruity with 
 the notion ; the other ad placiturn, having force only 
 by contract or acceptation. Of the former sort are hicro; 
 glyphics and gestures. For as to hieroglypliics, things 
 of ancient use, and embraced chiefly by the Egyptians, 
 one of the most ancient nations, they are but as con- 
 tinued impresses and emblems. And as for gestures, 
 they are as transitory hieroglyphics, and are to hiero- 
 glyphics as words spoken are to words written, in that 
 they abide not : but they have evermore, as well as 
 the other, an affinity with tlie things signified ; as 
 Periander, being consulted with, how to preserve a 
 tyranny newly usurped, bid the messenger attend and 
 report wliat he saw him do, and went into his garden 
 and topped all the highest flowers ; signifying, that it 
 consisted in the cutting off and keeping low of the nobi- 
 lity and grandees. Ad placitum arc the characters 
 real before mentioned, and words : altliough some have 
 been willing by curious inquiry, or rather hy apt feign- 
 ing, to have derived imposition of names from reason
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OI' I.EAltNING, 145 
 
 and iiitcndinciit ; a speculation elegant, and, by reason 
 it scarchcth into antiquity, reverent ; but sparingly 
 mixed vvitli trutli, and of small fruit. This portion of ^'^ ""*'" 
 knowledge, touching the notes of things, and cogita- 
 tions m general^ I find not inquired, but deficient. 
 And although it may seem of no great use, consider- 
 ing that words and writings by letters do far excel all 
 the other ways ; yet because this part concerneth, as 
 it were, the mint of knowledge, for words arc the to- 
 kens current and accepted for conceits, as moneys arc 
 for values, and that it is fit men be not ignorant that 
 moneys may be of another kind than gold and silver, 
 I thought to propound it to better inquiry. 
 
 Concerning speech and words, the consideration of 
 them hath produced the science of Grammar ; for man 
 still strivcth to reintegrate himself in those benedic- 
 tions, from which by his fault he hath been deprived ; 
 and as he hath striven against the first general curse, 
 by the invention of all other arts ; so hath he sought 
 to come forth of the second general curse, which was 
 the confusion of tongues, by the art of grammar, whereof 
 the use in a mother tongue is small ; in a foreign tongue 
 more ; but most in such foreign tongues as have ceased 
 to be vidgar tongues, and are turned only to learned 
 tongues. The duty of it is of two natures; the one 
 popular, which is for the speedy and perfect attaining 
 languages, as well for intercourse of speech, as for un- 
 derstanding of authors ; the other philosophical, ex- 
 amining the power and nature of words, as they are 
 the footsteps and prints of reason : which kind of ana- 
 logy between words and reason is handled sparsim, 
 brokenly, though not entirely ; and therefore I cannot 
 report it deficient, though I think it very worthy to be 
 reduced into a science by itself. 
 
 Unto Grammar also belongeth, as an appendix, the con- 
 sideration of the accidents of words, which are measure, 
 sound, and elevation or accent, and the sweetness and 
 harshness of them : whence hath issued some curious 
 observations in rhetoric, butchieflypoesy,as we consider 
 it, in respect of the verse, and not of the argument ; 
 wherein though men in learned tongues do tie them- 
 selves to the ancient measures, yet in modern Ian-
 
 146 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 guages it seemeth to me, as free to make new measures 
 of verses as of dances ; for a dance is a measm'ed pace, 
 as a verse is a measured speech. In these things the 
 sense is better judge than the art ; 
 
 CcEiise fercula nostrse, 
 Malleni convivis, quam placuisse cocis. 
 
 And of the servile expressing antiquity in an unlike 
 and imfit subject, it is v^^ell said, " Quod tempore an- 
 tiquum videtur, id incongruitate est maxime novum." 
 
 For ciphers, they are commonly in letters or alpha- 
 bets, t)iif may be in words. The kinds of ciphers, be- 
 sides the simple ciphers, with changes, and intermix- 
 tures of nulls and non-significants, are many, according 
 to the nature or rule of the infolding : wheel-ciphers, 
 key-ciphers, doubles, etc. But the virtues of them, 
 whereby they are to be Preferred, are three ; that they 
 be not laborious to write and read ; that they be im- 
 possible to decipher ; and in some cases, that they be 
 without suspicion. The highest degree whereof is to 
 write omnia per omnia ; which is undoubtedly possi- 
 ble with a proportion quincuple at most, of the writing 
 infolding to the writing infolded, and no other restraint 
 whatsoever. This art of ciphering hath for relative 
 an art of deciphering, by supposition unprofitable, but, 
 as things are, of great use. For suppose that ciphers 
 were well managed, there be multitudes of them which 
 exclude the decipherer. But in regard of the rawness 
 and unskilfulncss of the hands througli which they 
 pass, the greatest matters are many times carried in 
 the weakest ciphers. 
 
 In the enumeration of these private and retired 
 arts, it may be thought I seek to make a great mus- 
 ter-roll of sciences, naming them for shew and osten- 
 tation, and to little other purpose. But let those 
 wliich are skilful in them judge, whether I bring them 
 in only for appearance, or whether in that which I 
 speak of them, though in few words, there be not 
 some seed of proficience. And this must be remem- 
 bered, that as there be many of great account in their 
 countries and provinces, which when they come up to 
 the seat of tlie estate, are but of mean rank, and 
 scarcely regarded ; so these arts being licre placed witli
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 147 
 
 the principal and supreme sciences, seem petty things ; 
 yet to sucli as have chosen them to spend their lahours 
 and studies in them, they seem great matters. 
 
 For the method of tradition, I see it hatli moved a 
 controversy in our time. But as in civil business, if 
 there be a meeting, and men fall at words, there is com- 
 monly an end of the matter for that time, and no pro- 
 ceeding at all : so in learning, where there is much con- 
 troversy, there is many times little inquiry. For this 
 part of knowledge of method seemeth to me so 
 weakly inquired, as I shall report it deficient. 
 
 JMethod hath been placed, and that not amiss, in 
 logic, as a part of judgment : for as the doctrine of 
 syllogisms comprehendeth the rules of judgment upon 
 that which is invented, so the doctrine of method con- 
 taineth the rules of judgment upon that which is to 
 be delivered; for judgment precedeth delivery, as it 
 followeth invention. Neither is the method or the na- 
 tm*e of the tradition material only to the use of know- 
 ledge, but likewise to the progression of knowledge : 
 for since the labour and life of one man cannot at- 
 tain to perfection of knowledge, the wisdom of the 
 tradition is that which inspireth the "felicity of conti- 
 nuance and proceeding. And therefore the most real 
 diversify of method, is of method referred to use, and 
 method referred to progression, whereof the one may 
 be termed magistral, and the other of probation. 
 
 The latter whereof seemeth tobe'syi^ deserta et iii- 
 terclusa. For as knowledges are now delivered, there 
 is a kind of contract oreiTor,' between the deliverer^ 
 and the receiver ; for he that delivereth knowledge, 
 desireth to deliver it in such form as may be best be- 
 lieved, and not as may be best examined : and he that 
 receiveth knowledge, desireth rather present satisfac- 
 tion, than expectant inquiry : and so rather not to 
 doubt, than not to err ; glory making the author not to 
 lay open his weakness, and sloth making the disciple 
 not to know his strength. 
 
 But knowledge, that is delivered as a thread to be 
 spun on, ought to be delivered and intimated, if it 
 were possible, in the same method wherein it was in-
 
 entiarum. 
 
 148 ADVANCEMENT OF I.EAUNING. [Book II. 
 
 vented, and so is it possible of knowledge induced. 
 But in this same anticipated and prevented know- 
 ledge, no man knoweth how he came to tlie knowledge 
 which he hath obtained. But yet nevertheless, aecuti- 
 dum majiis et minus^ a man may revisit and descend 
 unto the foundations of his knowledge and consent ; 
 and so transplant it into another, as it grew in his 
 own mind. For it is in knowledges, as it is in plants, 
 if you mean to use the plant, it is no matter for the 
 roots ; but if you mean to remove it to grow, then it 
 is more assured to rest upon roots than slips : so the 
 delivery of knowledges, as it is now used, is as of fair 
 bodies of trees without the roots ; good for the car- 
 De metho- pcutcr, but uot for the planter. But if you will have 
 five* ad^'^' scicuccs grow, it is less matter for the shaft or body of 
 fiiios sci. the tree, so you look well to the taking up of the 
 roots : of which kind of delivery the method of the 
 mathematics, in that subject, hath some shadow ; but 
 generally I see it neither put in ure nor put in inqui- 
 sition, and therefore note it for deficient. 
 
 Another diversity of method there is, which hath 
 some affinity with the former, used in some cases by 
 the discretion of the ancients, but disgraced since by 
 the impostures of many vain persons, who have made 
 it as a Mse light for their counterfeit merchandises ; 
 and that is, enigmatical and disclosed. The pretence 
 whereof is to remove the vulgar capacities from being 
 admitted to the secrets of knowledges, and to reserve 
 them to selected auditors, or wits of such sharpness as 
 can pierce the veil. 
 
 Another diversity of method, whereof the conse- 
 quence is great, is the delivery of knowledge in apho- 
 risms, or in methods ; wherein we may observe, thai" 
 it hath been too much taken into custom, out of a few 
 axioms or observations upon any subject to make a 
 solemn and formal art, filling it with some discourses, 
 and illustrating it with examples, and digesting it 
 into a sensible method ; but the writing in aphorisms 
 hath many excellent virtues, whereto the writing in 
 metliod doth not approach. 
 
 For first it tricth tlie writer, whether he be super-
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMKNT OF LEARNING. 149 
 
 ficial or solid : for aphorisms, except they should be 
 ridiculous, cannot Be inadc but of the pith and heart 
 of sciences \ for discourse of illustration is cut off, re- 
 citals of examples are cutoff; discourse of connection 
 and order is cut off; descriptions of practice are cut 
 off; so there remaineth nothing to fill the aphorisms, 
 but some good quantity of observation : and therefore 
 no man can suffice, nor in reason will attempt to write 
 aphorisms, but he that is sound and grounded. But 
 in methods, 
 
 Tantum series juncturaque pellet, 
 Taiitum de medio sumptis accedit honoris ; 
 
 as a man shall make a great show of an art, which, if 
 it were disjointed, would come to little. Secondly, 
 methods are more fit to win consent or belief, but less 
 fit to point to action ; for they carry a kind of demon- 
 stration in orb or circle, one part illuminating another, 
 and therefore satisfy. But particulars being dispersed, 
 do best agree with dispersed directions. And lastly, 
 aphorisms, representing a knowledge broken, do in- 
 vite men to inquire farther ; whereas methods carry- 
 ing the show of a total, do secure men as if they were 
 at farthest. 
 
 Another diversity of method, which is likewise of 
 great weight, is, the liandling of knowledge by as- 
 sertions, and their proofs ; or by questions, and their 
 determinations ; the latter kind whereof, if it be im- 
 mddefately followed, is as prejudicial to the proceed- 
 ing of learning, as it is to the ])roceeding of an army 
 to go about to besiege every little fort or hold. For 
 if the field be kept, and the sum of the enterprise 
 pursued, those smaller things will come in of them- 
 selves ; indeed a man would not leave some important 
 piece enemy at his back. In like manner, the use of 
 confutation in the delivery of sciences ought to be very 
 sparing ; and to serve to remove strong preoccupations 
 and prejudgments, and not to minister and excite 
 disputations and doubts. 
 
 Anotljcr_diyers ity o f metliods is according to the 
 subject or matteF which is Tiandled ; for there is a 
 great difference in delivery of the mathematics, which 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 150 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 are the most abstracted of knowledges, and policy, 
 which is the most immersed ; and howsoever conten- 
 tion hath been removed, touching the uniformity of 
 method in multiformity of matter ; yet we see how that 
 opinion, besides the weakness of it, hath been of ill 
 desert towards learning, as that which taketh the way 
 to reduce learning to certain empty and barren gene- 
 ralities ; being but the very husks and shells of sci- 
 ences, all the kernel being forced out and expulsed with 
 the torture and press of the method: And therefore as 
 I did allow well of particular topics for invention, so do 
 I allow likewise of particular methods of tradition. 
 
 Another diversity of judgment in the delivery and 
 teaching of knowledge, is according unto the light and 
 presuppositions of that which is delivered ; for that 
 knowledge which is new and foreign from opinions re- 
 ceived, is to be delivered in another form than that 
 that is agreeable and familiar ; and therefore Aristotle, 
 when he thinks to tax Democritus, doth in truth com- 
 mend him, where he saith, " If we shall indeed dis- 
 pute, and not follow after similitudes," etc. For 
 those, whose conceits are seated in popular opinions, 
 need only but to prove or dispute ; but those whose 
 conceits are beyond popular opinions, have a double 
 labour ; the one to make themselves conceived, and 
 the other to prove and demonstrate : so tliat it is of 
 necessity with them to have recourse to similitudes 
 and translations to express themselves. And tliere- 
 fore in the infancy of learning, and in rude times, 
 when those conceits wliich are now trivial were then 
 new, the world was full of parables and similitudes ; 
 for else would men either liave passed over without 
 mark, or else rejected for paradoxes, tliat whicli was 
 offered, before they had understood or judged. tSo in 
 divine learning, we see how frequent jiarables and 
 tropes are : for it i« a rule, " Tliat whatsoever science 
 is not consonant to i)resu})positions, must pray in aid 
 of similitudes." 
 
 There be also other diversities of mctliods vulgar 
 and received : as that of resolution or analj/sis, of con- 
 stitution or systasis, of concealment or cryptic, etc.
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 151 
 
 which I do allow well of, though I have stood upon 
 
 those which are least handled and ohserved. All which De pmHcn- 
 
 I have rememhered to this purpose, hecause I would "'^. ^'^aditi- 
 
 11 ' onis, 
 
 erect and constitute one general inquiry, which seems 
 to me deficient, touching the wisdom of tradition. 
 
 But unto thisjiartofknawledge concerning mctJiod, 
 doth farther belong, not only tlie architecture of the 
 whole frame of a work, but also the several beams and 
 columns thereof, not as to their stuff, but as to their 
 quaatity and figure : and therefore method consider- 
 eth not only the disposition of tlie argument or subject, 
 but likewise the propositions ; not as to their truth 
 or matter, but as to their limitation and manner. For 
 herein Ramus merited better a great deal in reviving 
 the good rules of propositions, Kcc^oXa TrpuTov kocto. 
 TravToc, etc. than he did in introducing the canker of 
 epitomes ; and yet, as it is the condition of human 
 things, that, according to the ancient fables, " The 
 most precious things have the most pernicious keep- 
 ers ;" it was so, that the attempt of the one made him 
 fall upon the other. For he had need be well con- 
 ducted, that should design to make axioms converti- 
 ble ; if he make them not withal circular, and ?2on 
 promovent, or incurring into themselves : but yet the 
 intention was excellent. 
 
 The other considerations of method concerning pro- 
 positions, are chiefly touching the utmost propositions, 
 which limit the dimensions of sciences ; for every 
 knowledge may be fitly said, besides the profundity, 
 which is the truth and substance of it that makes it 
 solid, to have a longitude and a latitude, accounting 
 the latitude towards other sciences, and the longitude 
 towards action ; that is, from tlie greatest generality, 
 to the most particular preccj)t : The one giveth rule 
 how far one knowledge ouffht to intermeddle within 
 the province of another, which is the rule they call 
 xaOauTo : the other giveth rule, unto what degree of 
 particularity a knowledge should descend : which lat- 
 ter I find passed over in silence, being in my judgment 
 the more material : for certainly there must be some- 
 what left to practice ; but how much is worthy the 
 
 1. 2
 
 1^2 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 inquiry. We see remote and superficial generalities 
 do but offer knowledge to scorn of practical men, and 
 are no more aiding to practice, than an Ortelius's uni- 
 versal map is to direct the way between London and 
 De pruduc- York. The better sort of rules have been not unfit- 
 tione axio- ly comparcd to glasses of steel unpolished ; where you 
 niatum. j^^y g^^ ^^le iuiagcs of thiugs, but first they must be 
 filed : so the rules will help, if they be laboured and 
 polished by practice. But how crystalline they may 
 be made at the first, and how far forth they may 
 be polished aforehand, is the question ; the inquiry 
 whereof seemeth to me deficient. 
 
 There hath been also laboured, and put in practice, 
 a method, which is not a lawful method, but a method 
 of imposture, which is, to deliver knowledges in such 
 manner as men may speedily come to make a show of 
 learning, who have it not ; such was the travel of Ray- 
 mundus Lullius in making that art, which bears his 
 name, not unlike to some books of typocosmy which 
 have been made since, being nothing but a mass of 
 words of all arts, to give men countenance, that those 
 which use the terms might be thought to understand 
 the art ; which collections are much like a fripper's 
 or broker's shop, that hath ends of every thing, but 
 nothing of worth. 
 .ys^' Now we descend to that part which concerneth the 
 illustration of tradition, comprehended in that science 
 which we call Rhetoric, or art of eloquence ; a science 
 excellent, ancTcxccTIciitry well laboured. For althougli 
 in true value it is inferior to wisdom, as it is said by 
 God to Moses, when he disabled himself for want of 
 this faculty, " Aaron shall be thy speaker, and thou 
 shalt be to him as God :" Yet with people it is the 
 more mighty : for so Solomon saith, " Sapiens corde 
 appellabitur prudens, sed dulcis eloquio majora repc- 
 riet;" signifying, that profoundness of wisdom will 
 help a man to a name or admiration, but that it is 
 eloquence that prevaileth in an active life ; and as to 
 the labouring of it, the emulation of Aristotle with the 
 rhetoricians of his time, and the experience of Cicero, 
 hath made them in their works of rhetorics exceed
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 153 
 
 tlicmsclvcs. Again, the excellency of examples of elo- 
 quence in the orations of Demosthenes and Cicero, ad- 
 ded to the perfection of the precepts of eloquence, hath 
 douhled the progression in this art : and therefore the 
 deficiencies wliich I shall note, will rather be in some 
 collections, which may as handmaids attend the art, 
 than in the rules or use of the art itself. 
 
 Notwithstanding, to stir the earth a little about the 
 roots of this science, as we have done of the rest ; the ^, 
 dutv^tTtu d office of r hfijoric 'i§_tQ apply reason to ima- ; 
 8'»iatioiiJ«l.tMiiet!t£X^ for we see • 
 
 reason is disturbed in the administratToiiT thereof by 
 three means ; by illaqueation or sophism, which per- 
 tains to logic ; by imagination or impression, which 
 pertains to rhetoric ; and by passion or affection, which 
 pertains to morality. And as in negotiation with 
 others, men are wrought by cunning, by importunity, 
 and by vchemency ; so in this negotiation within our- 
 selves, men are undermined by inconsequences, soli- 
 cited and importuned by impressions or observations, 
 and transported by passions. Neither is the nature 
 of man so unfortunately built, as that those powers 
 and arts should have force to disturb reason, and not 
 to establish and advance it; for the end of logic is to 
 teach a form of argument to secure reason, and not to 
 entrap it. Tiie end of morality, is to procure the af- 
 fections to obey reason, and not to invade it. The 
 end of rhetoric, is to fill the imagination to second 
 reason, and not to oppress it; for these abuses of arts 
 come in but ea: obliquo for caution. 
 
 And therefore it was great injustice in Plato, though 
 springing out of a just hatred of the rhetoricians of 
 his time, to esteem of rhetoric but as a voluptuary art, 
 resembling it to cookery, tliat did mar wholesome 
 meats, and help unwholesome by variety of sauces, to 
 the pleasure of the taste. For we see that speech is 
 much more conversant in adorning that which is good, 
 than in colouring that which is evil ; for there is no 
 man but speaketh more honestly than he can do or 
 think ; and it was excellently noted by Thucydides 
 in Cleon, that because he used to hold on the bad
 
 154 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 side in causes of estate, therefore he was ever inveigh- 
 ing against eloquence and good speech, knowing that 
 no man can speak fair of coiu'ses sordid and base. 
 And therefore as Plato said elegantly, " That Virtue, 
 if she could be seen, would move great love and affec- 
 tion :" so seeing that she cannot be shewed to the sense 
 by corporal shape, the next degree is, to shew her to 
 the imagination in lively representation : for to shew 
 her to reason only in subtilty of argument, was a thing 
 ever derided in Chrysippus, and many of the Stoics, 
 who thought to thrust virtue upon men by sharp dis- 
 putations and conclusions, which have no sympathy 
 vnth the will of man. 
 
 Again, if the affections in themselves were pliant 
 and obedient to reason, it were true, there should be 
 no great use of persuasions and insinuations to the will, 
 more than of naked proposition and proofs : but in re- 
 gard of the continual mutinies and seditions of the 
 affections. 
 
 Video meliora, proboque ; 
 Deterioia sequor ; 
 
 ,' Reason would become captive and servile, if eloquence 
 I of pcr&iia'sions did not practise 9,ndwili„Uie imagination 
 from the afFectJQJas part, . and. coJitrapt,, a_ confederacy 
 between the reason and imagination against the affec- 
 tions ; for the affections themselves carry ever an appe- 
 tite to good, as reason doth. The difference is, that 
 tlie"affection b'ehoTdetli merely the present, reason 
 beholdeth the future and sum of time. And there- 
 fore the present filling the imagination more, reason is 
 commonly vanquished; but after that force of eloquence 
 and persuasion hath made things future and remote 
 appear as present, then upon the revolt of the imagi- 
 nation reason prevaileth. 
 
 We conclude therefore, that rhetoric can be no 
 more charged with the colouring of the worst part, 
 tlian logic with sopliistry, or morality with vice. For we 
 know the doctrines of contraries are tlie same, though 
 the use be opposite. It appearcth also, that Iqgi^ 
 differeth from rhetoric, not only as the fist from the 
 palm, the one close, the other at large ; but much
 
 Book IL~\ ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 155 
 
 more in this, thatipgic huudlcth reason exact, and in 
 truth ; and rlictoric handlcth it as it is planted in 
 popular ()])iiii()ns and manners. And therefore Ari- 
 stotle doth wisely place rhetoric as between logic on 
 the one side, and moral or civil knowledge on the 
 other, as participating of both : for the proofs and de- 
 monstrations of logic are toward all men indifferent 
 and the same : but the proofs and persuasions of 
 rhetoric ought to differ according to the auditors : 
 
 Orpheus in sylvis, inter delphinas Arion. 
 Which application, in perfection of idea, ought to ex- 
 tend so far, that if a man should speak of the same thing 
 to several persons, he should speak to them all respec- 
 tively, and several ways : though this politic part of 
 eloquence in private speech, it is easy for the greatest 
 orators to want; whilst by the observing their wellgraced De pruden- 
 forms of speech, they lose the volubility of application : ",^2^^^""°'"* 
 and therefore it shall not be amiss to recommend this 
 to better inquiry, not being curious whether we place 
 it here, or in that part which concerneth policy. 
 
 Now therefore will I descend to the deficiences, Coioresboni 
 which, as I said, are but attendances : and first, I do not ^t maii.sun. 
 
 ' ' -11 plicis et 
 
 find the wisdom and diligence of Aristotle well pursued, comparati. 
 who began to make a collection of the popular signs and 
 colours of good and evil, both simple and comparative, 
 wliich are as the sophisms of rhetoric, as I touched be- 
 fore. For example ; 
 
 SOPHISMA. 
 Quod laudatur, bonum : quod vituperatur, malum. 
 
 REDARGUTIO. 
 
 Laudat venalcs qui vult extrudere merces. 
 Malum est, malum est, inqult emptor; sed cum recesse- 
 rit, tum gloriabitur. 
 
 The defects in the labour of Aristotle are three ; 
 one, that there be but a few of many ; another, that 
 their elenchus's are not annexed ; and the third, that 
 he conceived but a part of the use of them : for their 
 use is not only in probation, but much more in im- 
 pression. For many forms are equal in signification, 
 which are differing in impression ; as the difference is
 
 rorum. 
 
 156 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 great in the piercing of that which is sharp, and that 
 which is flat, thovigh the strength of the percussion be 
 the same : for there is no man but will be a little more 
 raised by hearing it said ; " Your enemies will be glad 
 of this ;" 
 
 Hoc Ithacus velit, et niagno mercentur Atridae ; 
 
 than by hearing it said only ; " This is evil for you." 
 
 Secondly, I do resume also that which I mentioned 
 before, touching provision or preparatory store, for the 
 furniture of speech and readiness of invention, which 
 appeareth to be of two sorts ; the one in resemblance 
 to a shop of pieces unmade up, the other to a shop of 
 things ready made up, both to be applied to that 
 which is frequent and most in request : the former of 
 these I will call autitheta, and the \vi\XeY formul(jB. 
 Aiititheia Antitheta are theses argued pro et contra, wherein 
 men may be more large and laborious ; but, in such as 
 are able to do it, to avoid prolixity of entry, I wish 
 the seeds of the several arguments to be cast up into 
 some brief and acute sentences, not to be cited, but 
 to be as scanes or bottoms of thread, to be un winded 
 at large when they come to be used ; supplying au- 
 thorities and examples by reference. 
 
 PRO VERBIS LEGIS. 
 
 Non est interpretatio, sed divinatio, quae recedit a litera. 
 Cum receditur a Htera judex transit in legislatoreni. 
 
 PRO SENTENTIA I>EGIS. 
 
 Ex omnibus verbis est eliciendus sensus, qui interpretatur 
 singula. 
 
 FormulfE are but decent and apt passages or con- 
 veyances of speech, which may serve indifferently for 
 differing subjects ; as of preface, conclusion, digression, 
 transition, excusation, etc. For as in buildings there is 
 great pleasure and use in the well-casting of the stair- 
 cases, entries, doors, windows, and the like; so in speech, 
 the conveyances and passages arc of special ornament 
 and effect.
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 157 
 
 A CONCLUSION IN A DELIBERATIVE. 
 
 iSo may we redeem the faults passed, and prevent the 
 
 inconveniences future. 
 
 There remain two appendices touching the tradition 
 of knowledge, the one critical, the other pedantical ; 
 for all knowledge is either delivered by teachers, or 
 attained hy men's proj)er endeavours : and therefore 
 as the principal part of tradition of knowledge con- 
 cerncth chiefly writing of books, so the relative part 
 thereof concerncth reading of books : whereunto ap- 
 pertain incidently these considerations. The first is 
 concerning the true correction and edition of authors, 
 wherein nevertheless rash diligence hath done great 
 prejudice. For these critics have often presumed that 
 that which they understand not, is false set down. 
 As the priest, that where he found it wiitten of 8t. Paul, 
 " Demissus est per sportam," mended his book, and 
 made it " Demissus est per portam," because sporta was 
 an hard word, and out of his reading : and surely their 
 errors, though they be not so palpable and ridiculous, 
 yet are of the same kind. And therefore as it hath been 
 wisely noted, the most corrected copies are commonly 
 the least correct. 
 
 The second is concerning the exposition and expli- 
 cation of authors, which resteth in annotations and 
 commentaries, wherein it is over usual to blanch the 
 obscure places, and discourse upon the plain. 
 
 The third is concerning the times, which in many 
 cases give great light to true interpretations. 
 
 The fourth is concerning some brief censure and 
 judgment of the authors, that men thereby may make 
 some election unto themselves what books to read. 
 
 And the fifth is concerning the syntax and disposi- 
 tion of studies, that men may know in what order or 
 pursuit to read. 
 
 For pedantical knowledge, it containeth that dif- 
 ference of traVlition which is proper for youth, where- 
 unto appertain divers considerations of great fruit. 
 
 As first the timing and seasoning of knowledges ;
 
 158 advanceme:nt of learning. [Book II. 
 
 as with what to initiate them, and froniwhat^^Jor a time, 
 to refrain them. 
 
 Secondly, the consideration where to begin with the 
 easiest, and so proceed to the more difficult, and in 
 what courses to press the more difficult, and then to 
 turn them to the more easy ; for it is one method to 
 practise swimming with bladders, and another to prac- 
 tise dancing with heavy shoes, 
 
 A third is the application of learning according un- 
 to the propriety of the wits ; for there is no defect in 
 the faculties intellectual but seemeth to have a proper 
 cure contained in some studies : as for example, if a 
 child be bird-witted, that is, hath not the fjiculty of 
 attention, the mathematics giveth a remedy thereunto, 
 for in them, if the wit be caught away but a moment, 
 one is new to begin : and as sciences have a propriety 
 towards faculties for cure and help, so faculties or powers 
 have a sympathy towards sciences for excellency or 
 speedy profiting ; and therefore it is an inquiry of great 
 wisdom what kinds of wits and natures are most pro- 
 per for what sciences. 
 
 Fourthly, the ordering of exercisesis mattej; Qflgreat 
 consequence to hurt or help : for, as is well observed 
 by Cicero, men in exercising their faculties, if they be 
 not well advised, do exercise their faults, and get ill 
 habits as well as good ; so there is a great judgment 
 to be had in the continuance and intermission of exer- 
 cises. It were too long to particularize a number of 
 other considerations of this nature; things but of mean 
 appearance, but of singular efficacy : for as the wrong- 
 ing or cherishing of seeds or young plants, is that that 
 is most important to their thriving ; and as it was 
 noted, that the first six kings, being in truth as tutors 
 of the state of Rome in the infancy thereof, was the 
 principal cause of the immense greatness of that state 
 which followed ; so the culture and manurance of minds 
 in youth hath such a forcible, though unseen, opera- 
 tion, as hardly any length of time or contention of la- 
 bour can countervail it afterwards. And it is not amiss 
 to observe also, how small and mean faculties gotten 
 by education, yet when they fall into great men or great
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 159 
 
 matters, do work great and important effects ; whereof 
 we see a notable example in Tacitns, of two stage play- 
 ers, Percenniiis and Vibnlenus, who by their faculty of 
 playing put the Pannonian armies into an extreme tu- 
 mult and combustion ; for therearisingamutinyamongst 
 them, upon the death of Augustus Caesar, Blsesus the 
 lieutenant had committed some of the mutineers, which 
 were suddenly rescued ; whereupon Vibulenus got to 
 be heard speak, which he did in this manner : " These 
 poor innocent wretches appointed to cruel death, you 
 have restored to behold the light : but who shall re- 
 store my brother to me, or life unto my brother, that 
 was sent hither in message from the legions of Ger- 
 many, to treat of the common cause ? And he hath 
 murdered him this last nigjit by some of his fencers 
 and ruffians, that he hath about him for his execution- 
 ers upon soldiers. Answer, Blaesus, what is done with 
 his body ? The mortalest enemies do not deny burial ; 
 when I have performed my last duties to the corpse 
 with kisses, with tears, command me to be slain besides 
 him, so that these my fellows, for our good meaning, 
 and our true hearts to the legions, may have leave 
 to bury us." With which speech he put the army 
 into an infinite fury and uproar ; whereas truth was 
 he had no brother, neither was there any such matter, 
 but he played it merely as if he had been upon the 
 stage. 
 
 But to return, we are now come to a period of ra- 
 tional knowledges, wherein if I have made the divi- 
 sions other than those that are received, yet would I 
 not be thought to disallow all those divisions which I 
 do not use ; for there is a double necessity imposed 
 upon me of altering the divisions. The one, because 
 it differeth in end and purpose, to sort together those 
 things which are next in nature, and those things 
 which are next in use; for if a secretary of estate should 
 sort his papers, it is like in his study, or general cabi- 
 net, he would sort together things of a nature, as trea- 
 ties, instructions, etc. but in his boxes, or particular 
 cabinet, he would sort together those that he were like 
 to use together, though of several natures ; so in this
 
 160 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 general cabinet of knowledge it was necessary for me 
 to follow the divisions of the nature of things; whereas 
 if myself had been to handle any particular knowledge 
 I w^ould have respected the divisions fittest for use. 
 The other, because the bringing in of the deficiencies 
 did by consequence alter the partitions of the rest : for 
 let the knowledge extant, for demonstration sake, be 
 fifteen, let the knowledge with the deficiencies be twenty, 
 the parts of fifteen are not the parts of twenty, for the 
 parts of fifteen are three and five, the parts of twenty 
 are two, four, five and ten ; so as these things are with- 
 out contradiction, and could not otherwise be. 
 
 We proceed now to that knowledge which consi- 
 dereth of the Appetite and Will of^ Ian, whereof Solo- 
 mon saith, " Ante omnia, iili, custodi cor tuum, nam 
 inde procedunt actiones vitse." In the handling of this 
 science, those which have written seem to me to have 
 done as if a man that professed to teach to write, did 
 only exhibit fair copies of alphabets, and letters joined, 
 without giving any precepts or directions for the car- 
 riage of the hand and framing of the letters ; so have 
 they made _gQycuLand fair £xemplars and copies, carry-^ 
 ing the draughts and portraitures of good, virtue, duty, 
 felicity ; propounding them well describ^ed as tHeTrue 
 objects and scopes of man's will and desire s ; but how 
 to attahi J;licse_cxcellciit. ixuirks^an.d how to lFame and, 
 ; subc[uc the will of man to become true and conform- 
 I able to these jmrsuits^ they pass it over altogetlierToF 
 1 slightly and unprofitably ; for it is not the disputing 
 that moral virtues arc in the mind of man by habit 
 and not by nature, or the distinguishing that generous 
 spirits are won by doctrines and persuasions, and the 
 vulgar sort by reward and punishment, and the like 
 scattered glances and touches, that can excuse the 
 absence of this jiart. 
 
 The reason of this omission I suppose to be that 
 liidden rock whereupon botli this and many other barks 
 of knowledge have been cast away ; which is, that men 
 have despised to be conversant in ordinary and common 
 matters, tlie judicious direction whereof nevertheless
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. I6l 
 
 is the wisest doctrine ; for life consisteth not in novel- 
 ties nor subtilities : but contrariwise they have com- 
 pounded sciences chiefly of a certain resplendent or 
 lustrous mass of matter, chosen to give glory either to 
 the subtlety of disputations, or to the eloquence of dis- 
 courses. But 8eneca givetli an excellent check to elo- 
 quence : " Nocet illis eloquentia, quibus non rerum 
 cupiditatem facit, sed sui." Doctrine should be such 
 as should make men in lo^e with Tlie lesson, and ijdt 
 with fITeteac'lier, being directed to the auditor's benefit, 
 and not to the author's commendation ; and therefore 
 those are of the right kind which may be concluded as 
 Demosthenes concludes his counsel, " Qua? si feceritis, 
 non oratorem duntaxat in praesentia laudabitis, sed 
 vosmctipsos etiam, non ita multo post statu rerum 
 vestrarum meliore." Neither needed men of so excel- 
 lent parts to have despaired of a fortune, which the 
 poet Virgil promised himself, and indeed obtained, 
 who got as much glory of eloquence, wit, and learning 
 in the expressing of the observations of husbandry, as 
 of the heroical acts of iEneas : 
 
 Nee sum animi dubius, verbis ea vincere magnum 
 Quam sit, et angustis hunc addere rebus honorem. 
 
 Georg. iii. 289. 
 
 And surely if the purpose be in good earnest not to 
 write at leisure that which men may read at leisure, 
 but really to instruct and suborn action and active life, / 
 
 these gcorgics of the mind concerning the husbandry 
 and tillage thereof, arc no less worthy than the heroical 
 descriptions of virtue, duty, and felicity. Wherefore 
 the main and primitive division of moral knowledge 
 seemetlTto Be into the Exemplar or Platform of Good, 
 and the Regiment or Culture of the Mind; the one ^n ) 
 describing the nature of good, the other prcscribiiig" 
 rules how to subdue, apply, and accommodate the wiir^ ' 
 of man tliereunto. 
 
 The doctrine touching the Platform or Nature of 
 Gooil cpnsidereth it either siinpTc'or compared, either 
 the kinds of good, or the degrees of good ; in the lat- 
 ter whereof those infinite disputations which were touch-
 
 162 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 ing the supreme degree thereof, which they term feli- 
 city, beatitude, or the highest good, the doctrines con- 
 cerning which were as the heathen divinity, are by the 
 Christian faith discharged. And, as Aristotle saith, 
 " That young men may be happy, but not otherwise 
 but by hope ; " so we must all acknowledge our mino- 
 rity, and embrace the felicity which is by hope of the 
 future world. 
 
 Freed therefore, and delivered from this doctrine of 
 the philosophers heaven , whereby they feigned an higher 
 elevation of man's nature than was, for we see in what 
 an height of stile Seneca writeth, " Vere magnum, 
 habere fragilitatem hominis, securitatem Dei," we may 
 with more sobriety and truth receive the rest of their 
 inquiries and labours ; wherein for the nature of good, 
 positive or simple, they have seFit down exc ellen tly, 
 in describing the forms of virtue and duty with their 
 situations and postures, in distributing them into their 
 kinds, parts, provinces, actions, and administrations, 
 and the like : nay farther, they have commended them 
 to man's nature and spirit, with great quickness of 
 argument and beauty of persuasions ; yea, and forti- 
 fied and intrenched them, as much as discourse can do, 
 against corrupt and popular opinions. Again, for the 
 degrees and comparative nature of good, they "liave 
 also excellently handled it in their triplicity of good, 
 in the comparison between a contemplative and an ac- 
 tive life, in the distinction between virtue with reluc- 
 tation, and virtue secured, in their encounters between 
 honesty and profit, in their balancing of virtue with 
 virtue, and the like ; so as this part descrveth to be 
 reported for excellently laboured. 
 
 Notwitlistanding, if })eforc they had come to the po- 
 pular and received iiotions of virtue and vice, pleasure 
 and pain, and the rest, they had s.tciyccLa littlc-Ionger 
 upon tlie inquiry concerning the roots of good and evil, 
 and tlie strings of tliose roots, they had given, iivmy 
 opinion, a gi*eat light to that which followed ; and 
 specially if they had consulted with nature, they had 
 made tlieir doctrines less prolix and more proiound : 
 which being by them in part omitted and in part
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 16S 
 
 handled with much confusion, wc will endeavour to 
 resume and open in a more clear manner. 
 
 There is formed in everyjthhig a double nature jQf 
 good,.Jthe one as every thing is a total or substantive 
 hi itself, the other as it is a part or member of a greater 
 body ; whereof the latter is iu degree the greater and 
 the worthier, because it tendeth to the conservation of 
 a more general form : therefore we see the iron in par- 
 ticular sympathy moveth to the loadstone, but yet if it 
 exceed a certain quantity, it forsaketh the affection to 
 the loadstone, and like a good patriot moveth to the 
 earth, which is the region and country of massy bodies; 
 so may we go forward and see that water and massy 
 bodies move to the centre of the earth, but rather than 
 to suffer a divulsion in the continuance of nature they 
 will move ujiwards from the centre of the earth, for- 
 saking their duty to the earth in regard of their dutv to 
 the world. This double nature of good and the com- 
 parative thereof is much more engraven upon man, if 
 he degenerate not, unto wliom the conservation of duty y 
 to the public oiight to be much more precious than the 
 conservation of life and being ; according to that me- 
 morable~s]5eccli of Pompeius Magnus, when being in 
 commission of purveyance for a famine at Rome, and 
 being dissuaded with great vehemency and instance by 
 his friends about him, that he should not hazard him- 
 self to sea in an extremity of weather, he said only to 
 them " Necesse est ut eam, non ut vivam : " but it ' 
 may be truly affirmed that there was never any philo- 
 sophy, religion, or other discipline, whicli did so plainly '^Jo^ 
 and highly exalt tlie good which is communicative, and •" 
 depress the good which is private and particular, as 
 the holy faith : well declaring, that it was the same 
 God that gave the Christian law to men, who gave 
 those laws of nature to inanimate creatures that we 
 spake of before ; for we read that the elected saints of 
 God have wished themselves anathematized and razed 
 out of the book of life, in an extasy of charity, and in- 
 finite feeling of communion. 
 
 This being set down and strongly planted, doth judge 
 and determine most of the controversies wherein moral
 
 164 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 philosophy is conversant. For first, it decideth. the 
 question touching the preferment of the contemplative 
 or active life, and decideth it against Aristotiei-^ all 
 the reasons which he bringeth for the contemplative, 
 / are private, and respecting the pleasure and dignity of 
 a man's self, in which respects, no question, the con- 
 templative life hath the pre-eminence ; not much un- 
 like to that comparison, which Pythagoras made for the 
 gracing and magnifying of philosophy and contempla- 
 tion ; who being asked what he was, answered, " That 
 if Hiero were ever at the Olympian games, he knew 
 the manner, that some came to try their fortune for 
 the prizes, and some came as merchants to utter their 
 commodities, and some came to make good cheer and 
 meet their friends, and some came to look on, and that 
 he was one of them that came to look on." But men 
 must know, that in this theatre of man's life, it is re- 
 served only for God and angels to be lookers on : nei- 
 ther could the like question ever have been received in 
 the Church, notwithstanding their " Pretiosa in oculis 
 Domini mors sanctorum ejus ; " by which place they 
 would exalt their civil death and regular professions, 
 but upon this defence, that the monastical life is not 
 simply contemplative, but performeth the duty either 
 of incessant prayers and supplications, which hath been 
 truly esteemed as an office in the Church, or else of writ- 
 ing or taking instructions for writing concerning the 
 law of God; as Moses did when he abode so long in the 
 mount. And so we see Enoch the seventh from Adam, 
 who was the first contemplative, and walked with God ; 
 yet did also endow the (Jhurch with prophecy, which 
 St. Jude citeth. But for contemplation which shoukl 
 / be finished in itself, without casting beams upon -so- 
 
 ciety, assuredly divinity knowctli it not. 
 
 It decideth also the controversies between Zeno and 
 Socrates, and their schools and successions on the one 
 side, who placed felicity in virtue simply or attended ; 
 the actions and exercises wliereof do chiefly embrace 
 and concern society ; and on the other side, the (^yre- 
 naics and Epicureans, who placed it in })leasure, and 
 made virtue, as it is used in some comedies of errors.
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 165 
 
 wherein the mistress and the maid change hahits, to be 
 but as a servant, without which pleasure cannot be 
 served and attended : and tlie reformed school of the 
 Epicureans, which placed it in serenity of mind and 
 freedom from perturbation ; as if they would have 
 deposed Jupiter again, and restored Saturn and the 
 first age, when there was no summer nor winter, spring 
 nor autumn, but all after one air and season ; and 
 Herillus, who placed felicity in extinguishment of the 
 disputes of the mind, making no fixed nature of good 
 and evil, esteeming things according to the clearness 
 of the desires, or the reluctation ; which opinion was 
 revived in the heresy of the Anabaptists, measuring 
 things according to the motions of the spirit, and the 
 constancy or wavering of belief: all which are mani- 
 fest to tend to private repose and contentment, and not 
 to point of society. 
 
 It censureth also the philosophy of Epictetus, which 
 presupposeth that felicity must be placed in those 
 things which are in our power, lest we be liable to 
 fortune and disturbance ; as if it were not a thing- 
 much more happy to fail in good and virtuous ends for 
 the public, than to obtain all that we can wish to our- 
 selves in our proper fortune ; as Consalvo said to his 
 soldiers, shewing them Naples, and protesting. " He 
 had rather die one foot forwards, than to have his life 
 secured for long, by one foot of retreat." Whereunto 
 the wisdom of that heavenly leader hath signed, who 
 hath affirmed " that a good conscience is a continual 
 feast ; " shewing plainly, that the conscience of good 
 intentions, howsoever succeeding, is a more continual 
 joy to nature, than all the provision which can be made 
 for security and repose. 
 
 It censureth likewise that abuse of pliilosophy, 
 which grew general about the time of Epictetus, in 
 converting it into an occupation or profession ; as if the 
 purpose had been not to resist and extinguish pertur- 
 bations, but to fly and avoid the causes of them, and to 
 shape a particular kind and course of life to that end, 
 introducing such an health of mind, as was that health 
 of body, of which Aristotle speaketh of Herodicus, who 
 
 VOT,. I. M
 
 166 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 (lid nothing all his life long but intend his health : 
 whereas if men refer themselves to duties of society, as 
 that health of body is best, which is ablest to endure 
 all alterations and extremities ; so likewise that health 
 of mind is most proper, which can go through the 
 greatest temptations and perturbations. 80 as Dio- 
 genes's opinion is to be accepted, who commended not 
 them which abstained, but them whicli sustained, and 
 could refrain their mind in prcBcipitio, and could 
 give unto the mind, as is used in horsemanship, the 
 shortest stop or turn. 
 
 Lastly, it censureth the tenderness and want of ap- 
 plication in some of the most ancient and reverend 
 philosophers and philosophical men, that did retire too 
 easily from civil business, for avoiding of indignities 
 and perturbations ; whereas the resolution of men truly 
 moral, ought to be such as the same Consalvo said 
 the honour of a soldier should be, e tela crassiore, 
 and not so fine, as that every thing should catch in it 
 and endanger it. 
 
 To resume private or particular good, it falletli into 
 the division of good active and passive : for tliis dif- 
 ference of good, not unlike to tliat which amongst 
 the Romans was expressed in the familiar or household 
 terms of Promu^- and Condus, is formed also in all 
 things, and is best disclosed in the two several appetites 
 in creatures ; the one to preserve or continue them- 
 selves, and the other to dilate or multiply themselves; 
 whereof the latter seemeth to be the worthier ; for in 
 nature the heavens, which are the more worthy, are the 
 agent ; and the earth, which is the less worthy, is the 
 patient : in the pleasures of living creatures, that of 
 generation is greater than that of food : in divine doc- 
 trine, " Beatius est dare, quam accipere : " and in life 
 there is no man's spirit so soft, but esteemeth the 
 effecting of somewhat that he hath fixed in his desire, 
 more than sensuality. Whicli priority of the active 
 good is much upheld by the consideration of our estate 
 to be mortal and exposed to fortiuie : for if we might 
 iiave a perpetuity and certainty in our pleasures, the 
 state of them would advance tlieir price ; but when
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 16? 
 
 wc see it is but " Magni aestimamus mori tardius,'" 
 and " Ne glorieris de crastino, nescis partum diei," it 
 maketh us to desire to have somewhat secured and 
 exempted from time, which are only our deeds and 
 works; as it is said " Opera eorum sequuntur eos." The 
 pre-eminence likewise of this active good is u))held by 
 the affection which is natural in man towards variety 
 and proceeding, which in the pleasures of the sense, 
 which is the principal part of ])assive good, can have no 
 great latitude. " (-ogita quamdiu eadem feceris: cibus, 
 somnus, Indus per hunc circulum curritur ; mori velle 
 non tantum fortis, aut miser, aut prudens, sed etiam 
 fastidiosus potest." But in enterprises, pursuits, and 
 purposes of life, there is much variety, whereof men 
 are sensible wdth pleasure in their inceptions, progres- 
 sions, recoils, re-integrations, approaches and attain- 
 ings to their ends. So as it was well said, " Vita sine 
 proposito languida et vaga est." Neither hath this active 
 good any identity with the good of society, though 
 in some case it hath an incidence into it: for although K' 
 
 it do many times bring forth acts of beneficence, yet , 
 it is with a respect private to a man's own power, glory, ' 
 amplification, continuance ; as appeareth plainly, when 
 it findeth a contrary subject. For that gigantine state 
 of mind which possesseth the troublers of the world, 
 such as was Lucius Sylla, and infinite other in smaller 
 model, who would have all men happy or unhappy as 
 they were their friends or enemies, and would give 
 form to the world according to their own humours, 
 which is the true theomachy, pretendeth, and aspireth 
 to active good, though it recedeth farthest from good 
 of society, which we have determined to be the greater. 
 To resume passive good, it receiveth a subdivision 
 of conservative and perfective. For let us take a brief 
 review of that which we have said ; we have sjioken 
 first of the good of society, the intention whereof em- 
 braceth the form of human nature, whereof we are 
 members and portions, and not our own proper and 
 individual form ; we have spokeii of active good, and 
 supposed it as a part of private and particular good. 
 And rightly, for there is impressed upon all things a 
 
 INI 2
 
 168 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 triple desire or appetite proceeding from love to them- 
 selves ; one of preserving and continuing their form ; 
 another of advancing and perfecting their form ; and 
 a third of multiplying and extending their form upon 
 other things ; whereof the multiplying or signature of 
 it upon other things, is that which we handled hy the 
 name of active good. 80 as there remaineth the con- 
 serving of it, and perfecting or raising of it; which latter 
 is the highest degree of passive good. For to preserve 
 in state is the less, to preserve witli advancement is 
 the greater. So in man, 
 
 Igneus est ollis vigor, et coelestis origo. 
 His approach or assumption to divine or angelical na- 
 tm'e is the perfection of his form ; the error or false 
 imitation of which good, is that which is the tempest 
 of human life, while man, upon the instinct of an 
 advancement formal and essential, is carried to seek an 
 advancement local. For as those which are sick, and 
 find no remedy, do tumble up and down and change 
 place, as if by a remove local they could obtain a re- 
 move internal : so is it with men in ambition, when 
 failing of the means to exalt their nature, they are in 
 a perpetual estuation to exalt their place. 80 then 
 passive good is, as was said, either conservative or per- 
 fective. 
 
 To resume the good of conservation or comfort, whicli 
 consisteth in the fruition of that which is agreeable to 
 our natures; it seemeth to be the most pure and natu- 
 ral of pleasures, but yet the softest and the lowest. 
 And this also rccciveth a difference, which hath neither 
 been well judged of, nor well inquired. For the good 
 of fruition or contentment, is placed either in the sin- 
 cereness of the fruition, or in the quickness and vigour 
 of it : the one superinduced by equality, the other by 
 vicissitude ; the one having less mixture of evil, the 
 other more impression of good. Whether of these is 
 the greater good, is a question controverted ; but whe- 
 ther man's nature may not be capable of both, is a 
 question not inquired. 
 
 The former question being debated between So- 
 crates and a sophist, Socrates placing felicity in an
 
 Book 11.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 169 
 
 equal and constant peace of mind, and the sophist in 
 much desiring and much enjoying, they fell from argu- 
 ment to ill words: the sophist saying that Socrates's fe- 
 licity was the felicity of a hlock or stone ; and Socrates 
 saying that the sophist's felicity was the felicity of one 
 that had the itch/,vho did nothing but itch and scratch. 
 And both these opinions do not want their supports : 
 for the opinion of Socrates is much upheld by the ge- 
 neral consent even of the Epicures themselves, that 
 virtue beareth a great part in felicity : and if so, certain 
 it is, that virtue hath more use in clearing perturba- 
 tions, than in compassing desires. The sophist's opi- 
 nion is much favoured by the assertion we last spake 
 of, that good of advancement is greater than good of 
 simple preservation ; because every obtaining a desire 
 hath a shew of advancement, as motion though in a 
 circle hath a shew of progression. 
 
 But the second question decided the true way 
 maketh the former superfluous : for can it be doubted 
 but that there are some who take more pleasure in 
 enjoying pleasures, than some other, and yet never- 
 theless are less troubled with the loss or leaving of 
 them : so as this same, " Non uti, ut non appetas ; non 
 appetere, ut non nietuas ; sunt animi pusilli et diffi- 
 dentis." And it seemeth to me that most of the doc- 
 trines of the philosophers are more fearful and caution- 
 ary than the nature of things requireth : so have they 
 increased the fear of death in offering to cure it : for 
 when they would have a man's whole life to be but a 
 discipline or preparation to die, they must needs make 
 men think that it is a terrible enemy against whom 
 there is no end of preparing:. Better saith the poet. 
 
 Qui finem vitae extremum inter munera ponat 
 Naturae : 
 
 So have they sought to make mens minds too uniform 
 and harmonical, by not breaking them sufficiently to 
 contrary motions : the reason whereof I suppose to be, 
 because they themselves were men dedicated to a pri- 
 vate, free, and unapplied course of life. For as we see, 
 upon the lute or like instrument, a ground, though it 
 be sweet and have shew of many changes, yet break-
 
 170 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 eth not the hand to such strange and hard stops and 
 passages, as a set song or voluntary : much after the 
 same manner was the diversity between a philosophi- 
 cal and a civil life. And therefore men are to imitate 
 the wisdom of jewellers, who if there be a grain, or a 
 cloud, or an ice which may be ground forth without 
 taking too much of the stone, they help it ; but if it 
 should lessen and abate the stone too much, they will 
 not meddle with it ; so ought men so to procure sere- 
 • nity, as they destroy not magnanimity. 
 
 Having therefore deduced the good of man, which 
 is private and particular, as far as seem eth lit, we will 
 now return to that good of man which rcspecteth and 
 beholdeth Society, which we may term duty ; because 
 the term of duty is more proper to a mind well framed 
 and disj)osed towards others, as the term of virtue4e 
 applied to a mind well formed and composed in itself; 
 though neither can a man understand virtue without^ 
 some relation to society, nor duty without an inward 
 disposition. This part may seem at first to pertain to 
 science civil and politic, but not if it be well observed ; 
 for it concerneth the regiment and government of every 
 man over himself, and not over others. And as in 
 architecture the direction of the framing the posts, 
 beams, and other parts of building, is not the same with 
 the manner of joining tliem and erecting the building ; 
 and in mechanicals, tlie direction liow to frame an in- 
 strument or engine, is not the same with the manner 
 of setting it on work and employing it ; and yet never- 
 theless in expressing of the one you incidcntly express 
 the aptness towards the other : so the doctrine of con- 
 jugation of men in society differeth from that of their 
 conformity thereunto. 
 
 This part of duty is subdivided into two parts j the 
 commoiTdiily of every man as a man or member of a 
 state, the other the respective or special duty of every 
 man in his profession, vocation, imd place. I'he first of 
 these is extant and well laboured, as hath been said. 
 The second likewise I may report ratlicr dispersed, 
 than deficient ; wliich manner of dispersed writing in 
 this kind of argument I acknowledge to be best : for
 
 Book II. J ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 171 
 
 who can take upon him to write of the proper duty, 
 virtue, challenge, and right of every several vocation, 
 profession, and place? For although sometimes a looker 
 on may see more than a gamester, and there be a pro- 
 verb more arrogant than sound, " That the vale best 
 discovereth the hills ; " yet there is small doubt but 
 that men can write best, and most really and materially 
 in their own professions ; and that the writing of spe- 
 culative men of active matter, for the most part, doth 
 seem to men of ex})erience, as Phormio's argument of 
 the wars seemed to Hannibal, to be but dreams and 
 dotage. Only there is one vice which accompanieth 
 them that v/rite in their own professions, that they 
 magnify them in excess ; but generally it were to be 
 wished, as that which would make learning indeed 
 solid and fruitful, that active men would or could be- 
 come writers. 
 
 In which I cannot but mention, honoris causa, your 
 majesty's excellent book touching the duty of a king, a 
 work richly compounded of divinity, morality, and po- 
 licy, with great aspersion of all other arts ; and being 
 in mine opinion one of the most sound and healthful 
 writings that I have read, not distempered in the heat 
 of invention, nor in the coldness of negligence ; not 
 sick of business, as those are who lose themselves in 
 their order, nor of convulsions, as those which cramp 
 in matters impertinent ; not savouring of perfumes 
 and paintings, as those do who seek to please the reader 
 more than nature beareth ; and chiefly well disposed 
 in the spirits thereof, being agreeable to truth and apt 
 for action, and far removed from that natural infirmity 
 whereunto I noted those that write in their own pro- 
 fessions to be subject, wbich is, that they exalt it above 
 measure : for your majesty hath truly described, not a 
 king of Assyria, or Persia, in their extern glory, but 
 a Moses, or a David, pastors of their people. Neither 
 can I ever lose out of my remembrance, what I heard 
 your majesty in the same sacred spirit of government 
 deliver in a great cause of judicature, which was, " That 
 kings ruled by their laws as God did by the laws of na- 
 ture, and ought as rarely to put in use their supreme
 
 172 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 prerogative, as God doth his power of working mira- 
 cles." And yet notwithstanding, in your book of a 
 free monarchy, you do well give men to understand, 
 that you know the plenitude of the power and right 
 of a king, as well as the circle of his office and duty. 
 Thus have I presumed to alledge this excellent writing 
 of your majesty, as aprime or eminent example of Trac- 
 tates concerning special and respective duties, wherein 
 I should have said as much if it had been written a 
 thousand years since : neither am I moved with cer- 
 tain courtly decencies, which esteem it flattery to praise 
 in presence ; no, it is flattery to praise in absence, that 
 is, when either the virtue is absent, or the occasion is 
 absent, and so the praise is not natural but forced, either 
 in truth or in time. But let Cicero be read in his ora- 
 tion pro Marcdlo, which is nothing but an excellent 
 table of Csesar's virtue, and made to his face ; besides 
 the example of many other excellent persons wiser a 
 great deal than such observers, and we will never doubt, 
 upon a full occasion, to give just praises to present or 
 absent. 
 
 But to return, there belongeth farther to the handling 
 of this part, touching the duties of professions and vo- 
 cations, a relative or opposite touching the frauds, cau- 
 tels, impostures, and vices of every profession, which 
 hath been likewise handled. But how? Rather in 
 a satire and cynically, than seriously and wisely ; for 
 men have rather sought by wit to deride and traduce 
 much of that which is good in professions, than witli 
 judgment to discover and sever that which is corrupt. 
 For, as Solomon saith, he that cometh to seek after 
 knowledge with a mind to scorn and censure, shall be 
 sure to find matter for his humour, but no matter for 
 his instruction : " Quaerenti derisori scicntiam, ipsasc 
 abscondit : sed studioso fit obviam." But the ma- 
 Dc cauuiis naging of this argument witli integrity and truth, 
 !!.;k?.'."* which I note as deficient, scemeth to me to be one of 
 the best fortifications for honesty and virtue that can 
 be planted. For, as the fable goeth of the basilisk, 
 that if he sec you first, you die for it ; but if you see 
 him first, he diieth : so is it with deceits and evil arts,
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 178 
 
 which, if they he first espied, lose their life ; b\it 
 if they prevent, they indangcr. So that we arc 
 much beholden to Machiavel and others, that write 
 what men do, and not what they ought to do : for it 
 is not possible to joiii serpentine wisdom with the co- 
 lumbine innocency, except men know exactly all the 
 conditions of the ser})cnt ; his baseness and going upon 
 his belly, his volubility and lubricity, his envy and 
 sting, and the rest ; that is, all forms and natures of 
 evil : for without this, virtue lieth open and unfenced. 
 Nay, an honest man can do no good upon those that 
 are wicked, to reclaim them, without the help of the 
 knowledge of evil : for men of corrupted minds pre- 
 suppose that honesty groweth out of simplicity of man- 
 ners, and believing of preachers, schoolmasters, and 
 mens exterior language. So as, except you can make 
 them perceive that you know the utmost reaches of 
 their own corrupt opinions, they despise all morality ; 
 " Non recipit stultus verba prudential, nisi ea dixeris, 
 qua} versantur in corde ejus." 
 
 Unto this part touching respective duty doth also 
 appertain the duties between husband and wife, parent 
 and child, master and servant : so likewise the laws of 
 friendship and gratitude, the civil bond of companies, 
 colleges, and politic bodies, of neighbourhood, and all 
 other proportionaie duties ; not as they are parts of 
 government and society, but as to the framing of the 
 mind of particular persons. 
 
 The knowledge concerning good respecting society 
 doth handle it also not simply alone, but comparatively, 
 whereunto belongcth the weighing of duties between 
 person and person, case and case, particular and pub- 
 lic : as we see in tlie proceeding of Lucius Brutus 
 against his own sons, which was so much extolled ; 
 yet what was said ? 
 
 Infelix, utcunque ferent oa t'nta niinores. 
 
 So the case was doubtful, and had opinion on both sides. 
 Again, we see when iM. Brutus and Cassius invited to a 
 supper cercaiu whose opinions they meant to feel, whe- 
 ther they were fit to be made their associates, and cast
 
 174 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 forth the question touching the kilhng of a tyrant be- 
 ing an usurper, they were divided in opinion, some 
 holding that servitude was the extreme of evils, and 
 others that tyranny was better than a civil war ; and a 
 number of the like cases there are of comparative duty : 
 amongst which that of all others is the most frequent, 
 where the question is of a great deal of good to ensue 
 of a small injustice, which Jason of Thessalia deter- 
 mined against the truth : " Aliqua sunt injuste faci- 
 enda, ut multa juste fieri possint." But the reply is 
 good, " Auctorem praesentis justitiae habes, sponsorem 
 futurae non habes ; " men must pursue things which 
 are just in present, and leave the future to the divine 
 providence. So then we pass on from this general part 
 touching the exemplar and description of good. 
 
 Now therefore that we have spoken of this Iruit of 
 
 ( ' 1 life, it remaincth to speak of the husbandry. tbiit_be- 
 lon^eth thereunto, without whicli part the former 
 seemeth to be no better than a fair image, or statua, 
 which is beautiful to contemplate, but is without life 
 and motion : whereunto Aristotle himself subscribeth in 
 
 De ciiitura thcsc words, " Ncccssc cst scilicct de virtute dicere, 
 et quid sit, et ex quibus gignatur. Inutile enim fere 
 fuerit, virtutem quidem nosse, acquirendaa autem ejus 
 modos et vias ignorare : non enim de virtute tantum, 
 qua specie sit, quEerendum est, sed et quomodo sui co- 
 piam faciat ; utrumque enim volumus, et rem ipsam 
 nosse et ejus compotes fieri : hoc autem ex voto non 
 succedet, nisi sciamus et ex quibus et quomodo." In 
 such full words and with such iteration doth he incul- 
 cate this part : so saith Cicero in great commendation 
 of Cato the second, that he had applied himself to i)hi- 
 losophy, " non ita disputandi causa, sed ita vivendi." 
 And although the neglect of our times, wherein fevvmen 
 do hold any consultations touching the retbrmation of 
 their life, as Seneca excellently saith, " De partibus 
 vitae quisque delibcrat, de summa nemo," may make 
 this part seem superfluous ; yet I must conclude with 
 that aphorism of Hippocrates, " Qui gravi morbo cor- 
 repti dolorcs non sentiunt, iis mens jcgrotat ; " they 
 need medicine not only to assuage the disease, but to 
 awake the sense. And if it be said, that the cure of 
 
 animi
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 175 
 
 mens minds belongeth to sacred divinity, it is most 
 true : but yet moral philosophy may be preferred mito 
 her as a wise servantand humble handmaid For as the 
 Psalm saith, that " the eyes of the handmaid look per- 
 petually towards the mistress," and yet no doubt many 
 things are left to the discretion of the handmaid, to dis- 
 cern of the mistress's will ; so ought moral pliilosophy 
 to give a constant attention to the doctrines of divinity, 
 and yet so as it may yield of herself, within due limits, 
 many sound and profitable directions. 
 
 This part therefore, because of the excellency thereof, 
 I cannot but iiud exceeding strange that it is not re- 
 duced to written inquiry, the rather because it con- 
 sisteth of much matter, wherein both speech and action 
 is often conversant, and such wherein the common talk 
 of men, which is rare, but yet cometh sometimes to 
 pass, is wiser tlian their books. It is reasonable there- 
 fore that we propound it in the more particularity, 
 both for the worthiness, and because we may acquit 
 ourselves for reporting it deficient, which seemetli al- 
 most incredible, and is otherwise conceived and pre- 
 supposed by those themselves that have written. We 
 will therefore enumerate some heads or points thereof, 
 that it may appear the better what it is, and whether 
 it be extant. 
 
 Firstj^ therefore, in this, as in all things which are 
 practical, we oygli t to cast up our account, what is in 
 our power, and what not ; for the one may be dealt 
 witTi by way of alteration, but the other by way of ap- 
 plication only. The husbandman cannot command, 
 neither tlie nature of the earth, nor the seasons of the 
 weather, no more can the physician the constitution of 
 the patient, nor the variety of accidents. So in the 
 culture and cure of the mind of man, two things are 
 without our coiiimand ; points of nature, and points 
 of fortune ; for to the basis of the one, and the condi- 
 tions of the other, our work is limited and tied. In 
 these things therefore, it is left unto us to proceed by 
 application ; 
 
 Vincenda est oiiinis fortuna terendo : 
 
 and so likewise, 
 
 \'ini-cucl;i obl onuu> nalura Icicndo.
 
 176 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 But when that we speak of suffering, we do not speak 
 of a dull and neglected suffering, but of a wise and in- 
 dustrious suflfering, which draweth and contriveth use 
 and advantage out of that which seemeth adverse and 
 contrary, which is that properly which we call accom- 
 modating or applying. Now the wisdom of applica- 
 tion resteth principally in the exact and distinct know- 
 ledge of the precedent state or disposition, unto which 
 we do apply ; for we cannot fit a garment, except we 
 
 ,^ first take measure of the body. 
 
 ' I So then the first article of this knowledge is to set 
 I downjound and true distributions, and descriptions of 
 ' the several characters and tempers of mens natures and 
 _ dispositions, specially having regard to those differ- 
 I ences which are most radical, in being the fountains^ 
 and causes of the rest, or most frequent in concurrence 
 or commixture ; wherein it is not the handling of a 
 few of them in passage, the better to describe the me- 
 diocrities of virtues, that can satisfy this intention : 
 for if it deserve to be considered, " that there are 
 minds which are proportioned to great matters, and 
 others to small," which Aristotle handleth or ought to 
 have handled by the name of magnanimity, doth it 
 not deserve as well to be considered, " that there are 
 ndnds proportioned to intend many matters, and 
 others to few ? " So that some can divide themselves, 
 others can perchance do exactly well, but it must be 
 but in few things at once ; and so there cometh to be 
 a narrowness of mind, as well as a pusillanimity. And 
 again, " that some minds are proportioned to that 
 which may be dispatched at once, or within a short 
 return of time ; others to that which begins afar ofl', 
 and is to be won with length of pursuit," 
 
 .Jam tuni tenditque fovetque. 
 
 I So that there may be fitly said to be a longanimity, 
 which is commonly ascribed to God, as a magnanimity. 
 So farther deserved it to be considered by Aristotle, 
 " that there is a disposition in conversation, supposing 
 it in things which do in no sort touch or concern a 
 man's self, to sooth and please ; and a disposition 
 contrary to contradict and cross:" and deserveth it
 
 y 
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. I77 
 
 not much better to be considered, " that there is a dis- 
 position, not in conversation or talk, but in matter of 
 more serious nature, and supposing it still in things 
 merely indifferent, to take pleasure in the good of 
 another, and a disposition contrariwise, to take dis- 
 taste at the good of another ? " which is that properly 
 which we call good-nature or ill-nature, benignity or 
 malignity. And therefore I cannot sufficiently mar- 
 vel, that this part of knowledge, touching the several 
 characters of natures and dispositions, should be omit- 
 ted botli in morality and policy, considering it is of 
 so great ministry and suppeditation to them both. A 
 man shall find in the traditions of astrology some 
 pretty and apt divisions of mens natures, according to 
 the predominances of the planets ; lovers of quiet, 
 lovers of action, lovers of victory, lovers of honour, 
 lovers of pleasure, lovers of arts, lovers of change, and 
 so forth. A man shall find in the wisest sort of these 
 relations, which the Italians make touching conclaves, 
 the natures of the several cardinals handsomely and 
 lively painted forth ; a man shall meet with, in every 
 day*s conference, the denominations of sensitive, dry, 
 formal, real, humourous, certain, " huomo di prima 
 impression c, huomo di ultima impressione," and the 
 like : and yet nevertheless this kind of observations 
 wandereth in words, but is not fixed in inquiry. For 
 the distinctions are found, many of them, but we con- 
 clude no precepts upon them : wherein our fault is the 
 greater, because both history, poesy, and daily experi- 
 ence, are as goodly fields where these observations grow; 
 whereof we make a few poesies to hold in our hands, 
 but no man bringeth them to the confectionary, that 
 receipts might be made of them for the use of life. 
 
 Of much like kind are those impressions of nature, 
 which are imposed upon the mind by the sex, by the 
 age, by the region, by health and sickness, by beauty 
 and deformity, and the like, which are inherent, and 
 not extern ; and again, those which are caused by ex- 
 tern fortune ; as sovereignty, nobility, obscure birth, 
 riches, want, magistracy, privatcness, prosperity, ad- 
 versity, constant fortune, variable fortune, rising per
 
 / 
 
 178 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 saltum, per gradus, and the like. And therefore we 
 see that Plautus maketh it a wonder to see an old man 
 beneficent, " benignitas hujus ut adolescentuli est." 
 St. Paul concludeth, that severity of discipline was to 
 be used to the Cretans, " Increpa eos dure," upon the 
 disposition of their country, " Cretenses semper men- 
 daces, malae bestiae, ventres pigri." Sallust noteth, 
 that it is usual with kings to desire contradictories ; 
 " Sed plerumque regiae vokintates, ut vehementes sunt, 
 sic mobiles, saepeque ipsas sibi adversae." Tacitus ob- 
 / serveth how rarely raising of the fortune mendeth the 
 disposition, " Solus Vespasianus mutatus in melius." 
 Pindarus maketh an observation, that great and sud- 
 den fortune for the most part defeateth men, " Qui 
 magnam felicitatem concoquere non possunt." So the 
 Psalm showeth it is more easy to keep a measure in the 
 enjoying of fortune, than in the increase of fortune : 
 " Divitiae si affluant, nolite cor apponere." These 
 observations, and the like, I deny not but are touched 
 a little by Aristotle, as in passage in his Rhetorics, and 
 : i^^ are handled in some scattered discourses ; but they 
 >rc r> were never incorporate into moral philosophy to which 
 they do essentially appertain ; as the knowledge of the 
 diversity of grounds and moulds doth to agriculture, 
 and the knowledge of the diversity of complexions and 
 ' constitutions doth to the physician ; except we mean 
 
 to follow the indiscretion of empirics, which minister 
 the same medicines to all patients. 
 
 Another article of this knowledge, is the inquiry 
 touching the affections; for as in mcdicining of the 
 body, it is in order first to know the divers complexions 
 and constitutions ; secondly, the diseases ; and lastly, 
 tlic cures ; so in medicining of the mind, after know- 
 ledge of the divers characters of mens natures, it fol- 
 lowetli, in order, to know the diseases and infirinjiies 
 of the mind, which arc no other than the perturba- 
 tions and distempers of the affections. For as tlie 
 ancient ])oliticians in popular estates were wont to com- 
 pare the people to the sea, and the orators to the winds; 
 because as the sea would of itself be calm and quiet, 
 if the winds did not move and trouble it ; so the peo-
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 179 
 
 pie would be peaceable and tractable if the seditious 
 orators did not set them in working and agitation : so 
 it may be fitly said, that the mind in the nature there- 
 of would be temperate and stayed, if the affections, as 
 winds, did not put it into tumult and perturbation. 
 And here again I find strange as before, that Ads- 
 totle should have wi'itten divers volumes of Ethics, 
 and never handled the affections, which is the prin- 
 cipal subject thereof; and yet in his Rhetorics, where 
 they are considered but collaterally, and in a second 
 degree, as they may be moved by speech, he findeth 
 place for them, and handleth them well for the quan- 
 tity ; but w^here their true place is, he pretermitteth 
 them. For it is not his disputations about pleasure 
 and pain that can satisfy this inquiry, no more than 
 he that should generally handle the nature of light, 
 can be said to handle the nature of colours ; for plea- 
 sure and pain are to the particular affections, as light 
 is to particular coloiu's. Better travels, I suppose, 
 had the Stoics taken in this argument, as far as I can 
 gather by that which we have at second hand. But 
 yet, it is like, it w\as after their manner, rather in 
 subtility of definitions, which, in a subject of this na- 
 ture, are but curiosities, than in active and ample de- 
 scriptions and observations. So likewise I find some 
 particular writings of an elegant nature, touching some 
 of the affections ; as of anger, of comfort upon adverse 
 accidents, of tenderness, of countenance, and other. 
 But the poets and writers of histories are the best 
 doctors of this knowledge, where we may find painted 
 forth witli great life, how affections are kindled and 
 incited ; and how pacified and refrained ; and how 
 again contained from act, and farther degree : how 
 they disclose themselves ; how they work ; how they 
 vary ; how they gather and fortify ; how they are in- 
 wrapped one within another ; and how they do fight 
 and encounter one witli another ; and other the like 
 particularities. Amongst tlie which, this last is of 
 special use in moral and civil matters : how, I say, to 
 set affection against affection, and to master one by 
 another, even as we use to hunt Ix'ast with beast, and 
 
 /
 
 180 advaN'cement of learning. [Book II. 
 
 fly bird with bird, which otherwise percase we could 
 not so easily recover : upon which foundation is erect- 
 ed that excellent use o^ prcemium and pos7ia, whereby 
 civil states consist, employing the predominant affec- 
 tions of fear and hope, for the suppressing and brid- 
 ling the rest. For as in the government of states, it 
 is sometimes necessary to bridle one faction with ano- 
 ther, so it is in the government within. 
 
 Now come we to those points which are within our 
 own command, and have force and operation upon the 
 mind, to affect the will and appetite, and io. alter 
 manners ; wherein they ought to have handled cus- 
 tom, exercise, habit, education, example, imitation, 
 emulation, company, friends, praise, reproof, exhorta- 
 tion, fame, laws, books, studies : these as they have 
 determinate use in moralities, for from these the mind 
 suffereth, and of these are such receipts and regiments 
 compounded and described, as may serve to recover or 
 preserve the health and good estate of the mind, as far 
 as pertaineth to human medicine ; of which number we 
 will insist upon some one or two, as an example of the 
 rest, because it were too long to prosecute all; and 
 therefore we do resume custom and habit to speak of. 
 
 The opinion of Aristotle seemeth to me a negligent 
 opinion, that of those things which consist by nature, 
 nothing can be changed by custom; using for example, 
 that if a stone be thrown ten thousand times up, it 
 will not learn to ascend, and that by often seeing or 
 hearing, we do not learn to hear or see the better. 
 For though this principle be true in things wherein 
 nature is peremptory, the reason whereof we cannot 
 now stand to discuss, yet it is otherwise in things 
 wherein nature admitteth a latitude. For he might 
 see tbat a strait glove will come more easily on with 
 use ; and that a wand will by use bend otlierwise tlian 
 it grew ; and that by use of the voice we speak louder 
 and stronger ; and that by use of enduring heat or 
 cold, we endure it the better, and the like : which lat- 
 ter sort have a nearer resemblance unto that subject 
 of manners hehandleth, than those instances which he 
 alledgeth. But allowing his conclusion, th at virt ues
 
 Book 11.] ADV'ANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 181 
 
 and vices consist in habit, he ought so much the more 
 to TiaSOaught the manner of superinducing that ha- 
 bit : for there be many precepts of the wise ordering 
 the exercises of the mind, as there is of ordering the 
 exercises of the body, whereof we will recite a few. 
 
 Tlie,firjS.t_shall be, that we beware we take not at 
 the firsL-either too high a strain, or too weak : for if 
 too high in a diffident nature you discourage ; in a con- 
 fident nature you breed an opinion of facility, and so 
 a sloth : and in all natures you breed a farther expec- 
 tation than can hold out, and so an insatisfaction in 
 the end : if too weak of the other side, you may not 
 look to j)erform and overcome any great task. 
 
 Another precept is, to practise all things chiefly at 
 two several times, the one when the mind is best dis- 
 posed, the other when it is worst disposed ; that by the 
 one you may give a great step, by the other you may 
 work out the knots and stonds of the mind, and make 
 the middle times the more easy and pleasant. 
 
 Another precept is that which Aristotle mentioneth 
 by the way, which is, to bear ever towards the con- 
 trary extreme of that where unto we are by nature in- 
 clined : like unto the rowing against the stream, or 
 making a wand straight, by binding him contrary to 
 his natural crookedness. 
 
 Another precept is, that the mind is brought to any 
 thing better, and with more sweetness and happiness, 
 if that whereunto you pretend be not first in the in- 
 tention, but tanquam a/iud agefido, because of the natu- 
 ral hatred of the mind against necessity and constraint. 
 Many other axioms there are touching the managing 
 of exercise and custom ; which being so conducted, doth 
 prove indeed another nature ; but being governed by 
 chance, doth commonly prove but an ape of nature, and 
 bringetli forth that which is lame and counterfeit. 
 
 So if we should handle books aiid studies, and what 
 influence and operation they have upon manners, are 
 there not divers precepts of great caution and direc- 
 tion appertaining thereunto ? Did not one of the fa- 
 thers in great indignation call poesy vinum dcemunum, 
 because it increaseth temptations, pertiu-bations, and 
 
 VOL. 1. N
 
 182 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 vain opinions ? Is not the opinion of Aristotle wor- 
 thy to be regarded, wherein he saith, " That young 
 men are no fit auditors of moral philosophy, because 
 they are not settled from the boiling heat of their af- 
 fections, nor attempered with time and experience?" 
 And doth it not hereof come, that those excellent 
 books and discourses of the ancient writers, whereby 
 they have persuaded unto virtue most effectually, by 
 representing her in state and majesty ; and popular 
 opinions against virtue in their parasites coats, fit to 
 be scorned and derided, are of so little effect towards 
 honesty of life, because they are not read, and revolv- 
 ed by men in their mature and settled years, but con- 
 fined almost to boys and beginners ? But is it not 
 true also, that much less young men are fit auditors of 
 matters of policy, till they have been tlioroughly sea- 
 soned in religion and morality, lest their judgments 
 be corrupted, and made apt to think that there are no 
 true differences of things, but according to utility and 
 fortune, as the verse describes it ? 
 
 Prosperum et felix scehis virtus vocatur. 
 And again, 
 
 lUe crucem pretium sceleris tulit, hie diadema : 
 which the poets do speak satirically, and in indigna- 
 tion on virtue's behalf: but books of policy do speak 
 it seriously and positively ; for it so pleaseth Machiavel 
 to say, " that if Caesar had been overthrown, he would 
 have been more odious than ever was Catiline : " as if 
 there had been no difference, but in fortune, between 
 a very fury of lust and blood, and the most excellent 
 spirit, his ambition reserved, of the world ? Again, is 
 there not a caution likewise to be given of the doc- 
 trines of moralities themselves, some kinds of them, 
 lest they make men too precise, arrogant, incompati- 
 ble, as Cicero saith of Cato in Marco Catone : " Haec 
 bona, quae videmus, divina et egrcgia, ipsius scitote esse 
 propria : qua? nonnunquam requirimus, ca sunt omnia 
 non a natura, sed a magistro ? " Many other axioms 
 and advices there are touching those proprieties and 
 effects, which studies do infuse and instil into manners. 
 And so likewise is there touching the use of all those
 
 Book I I.J ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 183 
 
 other points, of company, fame, laws, and the rest, 
 which we recited in the beginning in the doctrine of 
 moraUty. 
 
 But there is a kind of culture of the mind that 
 seemeth yet more accurate and elaborate than the 
 rest, and is built upon this ground : that the minds of 
 all men are sometimes in a state more perfect, and 
 at other times in a state more depraved. The purpose 
 therefore of this practice is, to fix and cherish the gooci 
 hours of the mind, and to obliterate and take forth 
 the^evil. The fixing of the good hath been practised 
 by two means, vows or constant resolutions, and obser- 
 vances or exercises ; which are not to be regarded so 
 much in themselves, as because they keep the mind 
 in continual obedience. The obliteration of the evil 
 hath been practised by two means, some kind of re- 
 demption or expiation of that which is past, and an 
 inception or account de?iovo, for the time to come: but 
 this part seemeth sacred and religious, and justly ; for 
 all good moral philosophy, as was said, is but an hand- 
 maid.JtP religipn. 
 
 Wherefore we will conclude with that last point, 
 which is of all other means the most compendious and 
 summary ; and, again, the most noble and effectual to 
 the reducing of the mind unto virtue and good estate ; 
 which is, the electing and propounding unto a man's 
 self good and virtuous ends of his life, such as may be 
 in a reasonable sort within his compass to attain. For 
 if thesetwo things be supposed, that a man set before 
 him Eonesf and good ends, and again that he be reso- 
 lute, constant, and true unto them ; it will follow, 
 that he shall mould himself into all virtue at once. 
 And this is indeed like the work of nature, w^hereas 
 the other course is like the work of the hand : for as 
 when a carver makes an image, he shapes only that 
 part whereupon heworketh, as if he be upon the face, 
 that part which shall be the body is but a rude stone 
 still, till such time as he comes to it: but, contrariw'ise, 
 when nature makes a flower or living creature, she 
 formeth rudiments of all the parts at one time : so in 
 obtaining virtue by habit, while a man practiseth tem- 
 
 N 2
 
 '^. 
 
 184 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 perance, he doth not profit much to fortitude, nor the 
 like ; but when he dedicateth and appheth himself 
 to good ends, look, what virtue soever the pursuit and 
 passage towards those ends doth commend unto him, 
 he is invested of a precedent disposition to conform 
 himself thereunto. Which state of mind Aristotle 
 doth excellently express himself, that it ought not to 
 ^ \^ ^ be called virtuous but divine : his words are these ; 
 y/ } S" " Immanitati autem consentaneum est, opponere earn, 
 .f^^/ quae supra humanitatem est, heroicam sive divinam 
 
 « virtutem." And a little after, " Nam ut ferae neque 
 
 vitium neque virtus est, sic neque Dei. Sed hie 
 r v V quidem status altius quiddam virtute est, ille aliud 
 
 J Y- ^^' quiddam a vitio." And therefore we may see what 
 celsitude of honour Plinius Secundus attributeth to 
 Trajan in his funeral oration ; where he said, " that 
 men needed make no other prayers to the gods, but 
 that they would continue as good lords to them as 
 Trajan had been ; " as if he had not been only an imi- 
 ^^ tation of divine nature, but a pattern of it. But these 
 
 be heathen and profane passages, having but a shadow 
 of that divine state of mind, which religion and the holy 
 faith doth conduct men unto, by imprinting upon their 
 souls charity, which is excellently called the bond of 
 perfection, because it comprehendeth and fasteneth all 
 virtues together. And as it is elegantly said by Me- 
 nander, of vain love, which is but a false imitation of 
 divine love, " Amor melior sophista laevo ad huma- 
 nam vitam," that love teacheth a man to carry himself 
 better than the sophist or preceptor, which he calleth 
 left-handed, because, with all his rules and preceptions, 
 he cannot form a man so dexterously, nor with that 
 facility, to prize himself, and govern himself, as love 
 can do : So certainly if a man's mind be truly inflamed 
 with charity, it dotli work him suddenly into greater 
 perfection than all the doctrine of morality can do, 
 which is but a sophist in comparison of the other. Nay 
 farther, as Xenophon observed truly, that all other 
 affections, though they raise the mind, yet they doit 
 by distorting and uncomcliness of ecstasies or excesses ; 
 but only love doth exalt the mind, and nevertheless at
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 185 
 
 the same instant doth settle and compose it : so in all 
 other excellencies, though they advance nature, yet 
 they are subject to excess. Only charity admitteth 
 no excess ; for so wc see by aspiring to be like God in 
 power the angels transgressed and fell ; " Ascendam, 
 et ero similis Altissimo ;" by aspiring to be like God 
 in knowledge, man transgressed and fell ; " Eritis 
 sicut i)ii, scientes bonum et malum :" but by aspiring 
 to a similitude of God in goodness, or love, neither 
 man nor angel ever transgressed, or shall transgress. 
 For unto that imitation we are called ; " Diligite 
 inimicos vestros, benefacite eis qui oderunt vos, et 
 orate pro persequentibus et calumniautibus vos, ut 
 sitis filii Patris vestri, qui in coelis est, qui solem suum 
 oriri facit super bonos et males, et pluit super justos 
 et injustos." 80 in the first platform of the divine 
 nature itself, the heathen religion speaketh thus, 
 " Optimus Maximus;" and the sacred Scriptures thus, 
 " Misericordia ejus super omnia opera ejus." 
 
 Wherefore I do conclude this part of moral know- 
 ledge, concerning the culture and regiment of the mind; 
 wherein if any man, considering the parts thereof, which 
 I have enumerated, do judge that my labour is but to 
 collect into an art or science, that which hath been 
 pretermitted by others, as matters of common sense 
 and experience, he judgeth well : but as Philocrates 
 sported with Demosthenes, "You may not marvel, Athe- 
 nians, that Demosthenes and I do differ, for he drinketh 
 water, and I drink wine." And like as we read of an 
 ancient parable of the two gates of sleep. 
 
 Sunt geminae somni portae, quarum altera fertur 
 Cornea, qua veris facilis datur exitus utnbris: 
 Altera candenti perfecta nitens elephanto, 
 Sed falsa ad ccelum mittunt insomnia manes : 
 
 So if we put on sobriety and attention, we shall find it 
 a sure maxim in knowledge, that the more pleasant 
 liquor, of wine, is the more vaporous, and the braver 
 gate of ivory sendeth forth the falser dreams. 
 
 But we have now concluded that general part of 
 human philosophy, which con tcmplateth man segregate, 
 and as he consisteth of body and spirit. Wherein we
 
 186 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 may farther note, that there seemeth to be a relation 
 or conformity between the good of the mind and the 
 good of the body. For as we divided the good of the 
 body into health, beanty, strength, and pleasure ; so 
 the good of the mind, inquired in rational and moral 
 knowledges, tendeth to this, to make the mind sound 
 and without perturbation ; beautiful and graced with 
 decency ; and strong and agile for all duties of life. 
 These three, as in the body, so in the mind, seldom 
 meet, and commonly sever. For it is easy to observe, 
 / that many have strength of wit and covu'age, but have 
 
 neither health from perturbations, nor any beauty or 
 decency in their doings : some again have an elegancy 
 and fineness of carriage, which have neither sound- 
 ness of honesty, nor substance of sufficiency: and some 
 again have honest and reformed minds, that can nei- 
 ( ther become themselves nor manage business. And 
 sometimes two of them meet, and rarely all three. 
 As for pleasure, we have likewise determined, that the 
 mind ought not to be reduced to stupid, but to retain 
 • > pleasvn*e ; confined rather in the subject of it, than in 
 the strength and vigour of it. 
 
 •^ 'Civi l Knowledge i s conversant about a subject 
 which of all others is most immersed in matter, and 
 hardlicst reduced to axiom. Nevertheless, as Cato 
 the Censor said, " that the Romans were like sheep, 
 for that a man might better drive a flock of them, than 
 one of them ; for in a flock, if you could get but 
 some few go right, the rest would follow:" so in that 
 respect moral philosophy is more difficile than policy. 
 Again, moral philosophy propoundeth to itself the 
 framing of internal goodness; but^ civil knowledge 
 requircth only an external goodness ; for that as Jo 
 society sufficcth. And therefore it cometh oft to pass 
 that there be evil times in good governments : for so 
 we find in the holy story, when the kings were good ; 
 yet it is added, " Sed adhuc populus non direxerat cor 
 suum ad Dominum Deum patrum suorum." Again, 
 states, as great engines, move slowly, and arc not so 
 soon put out of frame : for as in Egypt the seven
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 187 
 
 good years sustained the seven bad ; so governments 
 for a time well grounded, do bear out errors following. 
 But the resolution of particular persons is more sud- 
 denly subverted. These respects do somewhat qualify 
 the extreme difficulty of civil knowledge. 
 
 This k nowledg e hath three parts, according to the 
 three summary actions of sociely7wliJ£lLA^Qa Con ver- , .. 
 
 sation,JS[egQjtiatioii, and Government. -For man seek- '^ 
 
 eth in society comfort, use, and protection : and they 
 be three wisdoms of divers natures, which do often 
 sever ; wisdom of beha\dour, wisdom of business, and 
 wisdom of state. 
 
 The wisdom of conve rsation ought not to be , oj'er 
 much affected, but much less despised : for it hath not 
 onlyTnriiTJTrSufin itself, but an influence also into 
 business and government. The poet saith, " Nee vultu 
 destrue verba tuo." A man may destroy the force of 
 his words with his countenance: so may he of his deeds, 
 saith Cicero, recommending to his brother affability 
 and easy access, " Nil interest habere ostium apertum, 
 vultum clausum." It is nothing won to admit men 
 with an open door, and to receive them mth a shut 
 and reserved countenance. So, we see, Atticus, be- 
 fore the first interview between Caesar and Cicero, the 
 war depending, did seriously advise Cicero touching 
 the composing and ordering of his countenance and 
 gesture. And if the government of the countenance 
 be of such effect, much more is that of the speech, and 
 other carriage appertaining to conversation ; the true 
 model whereof seemeth to me well expressed by Livy, 
 though not meant for this purpose ; " Ne aut arro- 
 gans videar, aut obnoxius ; quorum alterum est alienae 
 libertatis obliti, alterum suae : " " The sum of beha- 
 viour is to retain a man's own dignity, mthout intruding 
 upon the liberty of others." On the other side, if be- 
 haviour and outward carriage be intended too much, 
 first it may pass into affectation, and then " Quid de- 
 formius quam scenam in vitam transferre," to act a 
 man's life ? But although it proceed not to that ex- 
 treme, yet it consumeth time, and employeth the mind 
 too much. And therefore as we use to advise young
 
 188 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 students from company keeping, by saying, ** Amici, 
 fares temporis ; " so certainly the intending of the 
 discretion of behaviour is a great thief of medi- 
 tation. Again, such as are accomplished in that 
 form of urbanity, please themselves in it, and sel- 
 dom aspire to higher virtue ; whereas those that 
 have defect in it, do seek comeliness by reputation ; 
 for where reputation is, almost every thing becometh ; 
 but where that is not, it must be supplied by puntos 
 and compliments. Again, there is no greater impe- 
 diment of action, than an over-curious observance of 
 decency, and the guide of decency, which is time and 
 season. For as Solomon saith, " Qui respicit ad ven- 
 tos, non seminat ; et qui respicit ad nubes, non metet : " 
 a man must make his opportunity as oft as find it. To 
 conclude ; behaviour seemeth to me as a garment of 
 t]ie_mind, and to have the conditions of a garment. 
 For it ought to be made in fashion ; it ought not to 
 be too curious ; it ought to be shaped so as to set forth 
 any good making of the mind, and hide any deformity ; 
 and above all, it ought not to be too strait, or restrained 
 for exercise or motion. But this part of civil know- 
 ledge hath been elegantly handled, and therefore I can- 
 not report it for deficient. 
 De nego- ~ The wisdom touching Negotiation or Business hath 
 rendis. "ot beeu hitherto collected into writing, to the great 
 derogation of learning, and the professors of learning. 
 For from this root springeth chiefly that note or opinion, 
 which by us is expressed in adage to this effect ; that 
 there is no great concurrence between learning and 
 wisdom. For of the three wisdoms which we have set 
 down to pertain to civil life, for wisdom of behaviour, 
 it is by learned men for the most part despised, as an 
 inferior to virtue, and an enemy to meditation ; for 
 wisdom of government, they acquit themselves well 
 when they are called to it, but that happeneth to few: 
 but for the wisdom of business, wherein man's life is 
 most conversant, there be no books of it, except some 
 few scattered advertisements, that have no proportion 
 to the magnitude of this subject. For if books were 
 written of this, as the other, I doubt not but learned 
 men, witli mean experience, would far excel men of
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 189 
 
 long experience, without learning, and outshoot them 
 in their own bow. 
 
 Neither needeth it at all to be doubted, that this 
 knowledge should be so variable, as it fallcth not un- 
 der precept ; for it is much less infinite than science 
 of government, which, we see, is laboured, and in some 
 part reduced. Of this wisdom, it seemeth, some of 
 the ancient Romans, in the saddest and wisest times, 
 were professors ; for Cicero reporteth, that it was then 
 in use for senators that had name and opinion for ge- 
 neral wise men, as Coruncunius, Curius, Laelius, and 
 many others, to walk at certain hours in the place, and 
 to give audience to those that would use their advice ; 
 and that the particular citizens would resortuuto them, 
 and consult with them of the marriage of a daughter, 
 or of the employing of a son, or of a purchase or bar- 
 gain, or of an accusation, and every other occasion inci- 
 dent to man's life. So as there is a wisdom of counsel 
 and advice even in private cases, arising out of an 
 universal insight into the affairs of the world ; which 
 is used indeed upon particular cases propounded, but 
 is gathered by general observation of cases of like na- 
 ture. For so we see in the book which Q. Cicero 
 writeth to his brother, " De petitione consulatus,** 
 being the only book of business, that I know, written 
 by the ancients, although it concerned a particular 
 action then on foot, yet the substance thereof consist- 
 eth of many wise and politic axioms, which contain not 
 a temporary, but a perpetual direction in the case of 
 po])ular elections. But chiefly we may see in those 
 aphorisms which have place amongst divine writings, 
 composed by Solomon the king, of whom the Scrip- 
 tm'cs testify, that his heart was as the sands of the 
 sea, encompassing the world and all worldly matters: 
 wc see, I say, not a few profound and excellent cautions, 
 precepts, positions, extending to much variety of occa- 
 sions ; whereupon we will stay a while, offering to con- 
 sideration some number of examples. 
 
 Sed el cunctis sermonibus, qui dicuntur, ne accoinniodes 
 aurem tuam, ne forte audias servum tuum maledicentem 
 tibi.
 
 190 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 Here is recommended the provident stay of inquiry 
 of that ^vhich we would be loath to find : as it was 
 judged great wisdom in Pompeius Magnus that he 
 burned Sertorius's papers unperused. 
 
 Vir sapiens, si cum stulto contenderit, sive irascatur, sive 
 rideat, non inveniet requiem. 
 
 Here is described the great disadvantage which a 
 wise man hath in undertaking a lighter person than 
 himself, which is such an engagement, as whether a 
 man turn the matter to jest, or turn it to heat, or how- 
 soever he change copy, he can no ways quit himself well 
 of it. 
 
 Qui delicate a pueritia nutrit servum suum, postea sentiet 
 eum contumacem. 
 
 Here is signified, that if a man begin too high a 
 pitch in his favours, it doth commonly end in unkind- 
 ness and unthankfulness. 
 
 Vidisti virum velocem in opere sue, coram regibus stabit, 
 nee erit inter ignobiles. 
 
 Here is observed, that of all virtues for rising to ho- 
 nour, quickness of dispatch is the best ; for superiors 
 many times love not to have those they employ too 
 deep or too sufficient, but ready and diligent. 
 
 Vidi cunctos viventes, qui ambulant sub sole, cum adoles- 
 cente secundo, qui consurgit pro eo. 
 
 Here is expressed that which was noted by Sylla 
 first, and after him by Tiberius ; "Plures adorant so- 
 lem orientem, quam occidentem vel meridianum." 
 
 Si spiritus potestatem habentis ascenderit super te, locum 
 tuum ne dimiseris, quia curatio faciet cessare peccata 
 maxima. 
 
 Here caution is given, that upon displeasure, retiring 
 is of all courses the unfittcst ; for a man leaveth things 
 at worst, and depriveth himself of means to make them 
 better, 
 
 Erat civitas parva, et pauci in ea viri ; venit contra earn rex 
 magnus, ct vadavit eam, instruxitquc munitiones per gy- 
 rum, et pcrfecta est obsidio; invcntusque est in ea vir 
 pauper ct sapiens, et liberavit eam per sapientiam suam, 
 ct nullus deinceps recordatus est hominis illius pauperis.
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 191 
 
 Here the corruption of states is set forth, that esteem 
 not virtue or merit longer than they have use of it. 
 Mollis responsio frangit iram. 
 
 Here is noted, that silence or rough answer exas- 
 peratcth ; hut an answer present and temperate pa- 
 cific th. 
 
 Iter pigroruni, quasi sepes spinarum. 
 Here is lively represented how laborious sloth 
 provcth in the end ; for when tilings are deferred to the 
 last instant, and nothing jjrcparcd beforehand, every 
 step findcth a brier or an impediment, which catcheth 
 or stoppcth. 
 
 MeHor est finis orationis, quani principium. 
 Here is taxed the vanity of formal speakers, that 
 study more about prefaces and inducements, than 
 upon the conclusions and issues of speech. 
 
 Qui cognoscit in judicio facieni, non bene facit; iste et pro 
 buccella panis deseret veritatem. 
 
 Here is noted, that a judge were better be a briber, 
 than a respecter of persons ; for a corrupt judge offend- 
 eth not so lightly as a facile. 
 
 Vir pauper calumnians pauperes, similis est imbri vehe- 
 nienti, in quo paratur fames. 
 
 Here is expressed the extremity of necessitous ex- 
 tortions, figured in the ancient fable of the full and 
 the hungry horse-leech. 
 
 Fens turbatus pede, et vena corrupta, est Justus cadens co- 
 ram impio. 
 
 Here is noted, that one judicial and exemplar ini- 
 quity in the face of the world, doth trouble the foun- 
 tains of justice more than many particvdar injuries 
 passed over by connivance. 
 
 Qui subtrahit aliquid a patre et a raatre, et dicit hoc non 
 esse peccatum, particeps est homicidii. 
 
 Here is noted, that whereas men in wronging their 
 best friends, use to extenuate their fault, as if they 
 might presume or be bold upon them, it doth contrari- 
 wise indeed aggravate their tault, and turneth it from 
 injury to impiety.
 
 192 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 Noli esse amicus homini iracundo, nee ambulato cum ho- 
 mine furioso. 
 
 Here caution is given, that in the election of our 
 friends we do principally avoid those which are im- 
 patient, as those that will espouse us to many factions 
 and quarrels. 
 
 Qui conturbat domum suam, possidebit ventum. 
 Here is noted, that in domestical separations and 
 breaches men do promise to themselves quieting of 
 their mind and contentment, but still they are de- 
 ceived of their expectation, and it turneth to wind. 
 
 Filius sapiens laetificat patrem : filius vero stultus moestitia 
 est matri suae. 
 
 Here is distinguished, that fathers have most com- 
 fort of the good proof of their sons ; but mothers have 
 most discomfort of their ill proof, because women have 
 little discerning of virtue, but of fortune. 
 
 Qui celat delictum, quaerit amicitiam ; sed qui altero ser- 
 mone repetit, separat foetieratos. 
 
 Here caution is given, that reconcilement is better 
 managed by an amnesty, and passing over that which 
 is past, than by apologies and excusations. 
 
 In omni opere bono erit abundantia ; ubi autem verba sunt 
 plurima, ibi frequenter egestas. 
 
 Here is noted, that words and discourse abound 
 most, where there is idleness and want. 
 
 Primus in sua causa Justus; sed venit altera pars, et inqui- 
 rit in eum. 
 
 Here is observed that in all causes the first tale 
 possesseth much, in such sort, that the prejudice 
 thereby wrought will be hardly removed, except some 
 abuse or falsity in the information be detected. 
 
 Verba bilinguis quasi simplicia, et ipsa perveniunt ad inte- 
 riora ventris. 
 
 Here is distinguished, that flattery and insinuation, 
 which seemeth set and artificial, sinketh not far ; but 
 that entereth deep which hath show of nature, liberty, 
 and simplicity. 
 Qui crudit derisorem, ipse sibi injuriam facit; et qui arguit 
 
 mpium, sibi maculam gcnerat.
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 193 
 
 Here caution is given how we tender reprehension 
 to arrogant and scornful natures, whose manner is to 
 esteem it for contumely, and accordingly to return it. 
 
 Da sapienti occasionem, et addetur ci sapientia. 
 Here is distinguished the wisdom brought into ha- 
 bit, and that which is but verbal, and swimming only 
 in conceit ; for the one upon the occasion presented 
 is quickened and redoubled, the other is amazed and 
 confused. 
 
 Quomodo in aquis resplendent vultus prospicientium, sic 
 
 corda hominum manifesta sunt prudentibus. ^. 
 
 Here the mind of a wise man is compared to a 
 glass, wherein the images of all diversity of natures 
 and customs are represented, from which representa- 
 tion proceedeth that appHcation, 
 
 Qui sapit, innumeris moribus aptus erit. 
 
 Thus have I staid somewhat longer upon these sen- 
 tences politic of Solomon than is agreeable to the pro- 
 portion of an example, led with a desire to give au- 
 thority to this part of knowledge, which I noted as de- 
 ficient, by so excellent a precedent ; and have also 
 attended them with brief observations, such as to my 
 understanding offer no violence to the sense, though I 
 know they may be applied to a more divine use : but 
 it is allowed even in divinity, that some interpreta- 
 tions, yea and some writings, have more of the eagle 
 than other ; but taking them as instructions for life, 
 they might have received large discourse, if I would 
 have broken them and illustrated them by deduce- 
 ments and examples. 
 
 Neither was this in use only with tlie Hebrews, but 
 it is generally to be found in the wisdom of the more 
 ancient times ; that as men found out any observation 
 that they thought was good for life, they would gather j 
 it and express it in parable, or aphorism, or fable. 1 
 But for fables, they were vicegerents and supplies ) 
 where examples failed : now that the times abound 
 with history, tlie aim is better when the mark is alive. 
 And therefore the form of writing, which of all others 
 is the fittest for this variable argument of negotiation
 
 194 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 and occasions, is that which Machiavel chose wisely 
 and aptly for government ; namely, discourse upon his- 
 tories or examples : for knowledge drawn freshly, and 
 in our view, out of particulars, knoweth the way best 
 to particulars again ; and it hath m ch greater life for 
 practice when the discourse attendeth upon the ex- 
 ample, than when the example attendeth upon the dis- 
 course. For this is no point of order, as it seemeth 
 at first, but of substance : for when the example is the 
 ground, being set down in an history at large, it is set 
 down with all circumstances, which may sometimes 
 controul the discourse thereupon made, and sometimes 
 supply it as a very pattern for action ; whereas the 
 examples alledged for the discourse's sake, are cited 
 succinctly, and without particularity, and carry a ser- 
 vile aspect toward the discourse which they are brought 
 in to make good. 
 
 But this difference is not amiss to be remembered, 
 that as history of times is the best ground for discourse 
 of government, such as Machiavel handleth, so history 
 of lives is the most proper for discourse of business, be- 
 cause it is more conversant in private actions. Nay, 
 there is a ground of discourse for this purpose fitter 
 than them both, which is discourse upon letters; such 
 as are wise and weighty, as many are of Cicero " ad At- 
 ticum," and others. For letters have a great and more 
 particular representation of business than cither chro- 
 nicles or lives. Thus have we spoken both of the 
 matter and form of this part of civil knowledge, touch- 
 ing negotiation, which we note to be deficient. 
 
 But yet there is another part of this part, which 
 difFereth as much from that wliercof we have spoken, 
 as sapere and sibi sapcre ; the one moving as it were 
 to the circumference, the other to the centre : for there 
 is a wisdom of counsel, and again there is a wisdom 
 of pressing a man's own fortune, and they do some- 
 times meet, and often sever ; for many are wise in their 
 own ways that are weak for government or counsel ; 
 like ants, which is a wise creature for itself, but very 
 hurtful for the garden. This wisdom the Romans did 
 take much knowledge of: " Nam pol sapiens," saith
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 195 
 
 the comical poet, " fingit fortunam sibi ;" and it grew 
 to an adage, " Faber quisque fortunaj propria^ : " and 
 Livy attributeth it to Cato the first, " in hoc viro tanta 
 vis animi et ingcnii inerat, ut quocunqne loco natus 
 esset, sibi ipse fortunam facturus videretur." 
 
 This conceit or position, if it be too much declared 
 and professed, hath been thought a thing impolitic 
 and unlucky, as was observed in Timotheus the Athe- 
 nian ; who having done many great services to the 
 estate in his government, and giving an account thereof 
 to the people, as the manner was, did conclude every 
 particular with this clause, " and in this Fortune had no 
 part." And it came so to pass that he never prospered 
 in any thing he took in hand afterwards ; for this is 
 too high and too arrogant, savouring of that which 
 Ezekiel saith of Pharaoh, " Dicis, Fluvius est mens, et 
 ego feci memetipsum :" or of that which another pro- 
 phet speaketh, that " men offer sacrifices to their nets 
 and snares ; " and that which tlie poet expresseth, 
 
 Dextra mihi Deus, et telum, quod missile libro, 
 Nunc adsint. 
 
 For these confidences were ever unhallowed and un- 
 blessed : and therefore those that were great politicians 
 indeed ever ascribed their successes to their felicity, 
 and not to their skill or virtue. For so Sylla sur- 
 named himself Felix not Magnus : so Caesar said to 
 the master of the ship, " ('aesarem portas et fortunam 
 ejus." 
 
 But yet nevertheless these positions, " Faber quis- 
 que fortunae sua? ; Sapiens doniinabitur astris ; In via 
 virtuti nulla est via ; " and the like, being taken and 
 used as spurs to industry, and not as stirrups to in- 
 solency, rather for resolution than for presumption or 
 outward declaration, have been ever thought sound and 
 good, and are, no question, imprinted in the greatest 
 minds, who are so sensible of this opinion, as they 
 can scarce contain it within : As we see in Augustus 
 Caesar, who was rather diverse from his uncle, than in- 
 ferior in virtue, how when he died, he desired his friends 
 about him to give him a Plaudite, as if he were con- 
 scient to himself that he had played his part well upon
 
 196 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 the stage. This part of knowledge we do report also 
 as deficient ; not but that it is practised too much, but 
 it hath not been reduced to writing. And therefore 
 lest it should seem to any that it is not comprehensi- 
 ble by axiom, it is requisite, as we did in the former, 
 that we set down some heads or passages of it. 
 Faberfortu- Whcrciu it may appear at the first a new and un- 
 ambhuvits. wouted argument to teach men how to raise and make 
 their fortune; a doctrine, wherein every man perchance 
 will be ready to yield himself a disciple till he seetli 
 difficulty ; for fortune layeth as heavy impositions as 
 virtue, and it is as hard and severe a thing to be a 
 true politician, as to be truly moral. But the hand- 
 ling hereof concerneth learning greatly, both in ho- 
 nour and in substance : In honour, because pragmati- 
 cal men may not go away with an opinion that learn- 
 ing is like a lark, that can mount, and sing, and please 
 herself, and nothing else ; but may know that she 
 holdeth as well of the hawk, that can soar aloft, and 
 can also descend and strike upon the prey. In sub- 
 stance, because it is the perfect law of inquiry of truth, 
 " that nothing be in the globe of matter, which should 
 not be likewise in the globe of crystal, or form ; " that 
 is, that there be not any thing in being and action, 
 which should not be drawn and collected into contem- 
 plation and doctrine. Neither doth learning admire 
 or esteem of this architecture of fortune, otherwise than 
 as of an inferior work : for no man*s fortune can be an 
 end worthy of his being, and many times the worthiest 
 men do abandon their fortune willingly for better re- 
 spects ; but nevertheless fortune, as an organ of vir- 
 tue and merit, deserveth the consideration. 
 
 First, therefore, the precept which I conceive to be 
 most summary towards the [)rcvailing in fortune, is to 
 obtain tliat window which JNIomus did require ; who 
 seeing in the frame of man's heart such angles and re- 
 cesses, found fault there was not a window to look in- 
 to tlicm ; tliat is, to procure good informations of par- 
 ticulars touching persons, their natures, their desires 
 and ends, their customs and fashions, their helps and 
 advantages, and whereby they chiefly stand ; so again
 
 Book IJ.] ADVAXCLMCNT OV LEARNING. 197 
 
 their weaknesses and disadvantages, and v/heie they 
 lie most open and obnoxious ; their friends, factions, 
 and dependcnrjies ; and again their op))osites, enviers, 
 competitors, their moods and times, " Sola viri moUes 
 aditus ct tempora noras ; " tlioir principles, rules, and 
 observations, and the like : and this not only of persons 
 but of actions, what are on foot from time to time, and 
 how they are coiiducted, favoured, ()})posed, and 
 how they import, and the like. For the knowledge of 
 present actions is not only material in itself, but with- 
 out it also the knowledge of persons is very erroneous ; 
 for men change with the actions, and whilst they 
 are in pursuit they are one, and v.hen thqy return to 
 their nature, they are another. These informations of 
 particulars, touching persons and actions, are as the 
 minor propositions in every active syllogism, for no 
 excellency of observations, which are as the major 
 propositions, can suffice to ground a conclusion if there 
 be error and mistaking in the minors. 
 
 That this knowledge is possible, Solomon is our 
 surety, who saith, " Consilium in corde viri tanquam 
 aqua profunda, sed vir prudens exhauriet illud : " 
 And althoug-h the knowledge itself falleth not under 
 precept, because it is of individuals, yet the instruc- 
 tions for the obtaining of it may. 
 
 We will.. begin -iberefore with this precept,- accord- 
 ing to the ancient opinion, that the sinews of wisdom 
 are slowness of belief and distrust : that more trust 
 be given to countenances and deeds than to woids ; 
 and in words rather to sudden passages and surprised 
 words than to set and purposed words. Neither let 
 that be feared which is said, Fronti nulla Jidts; which 
 is meant of a general outward behaviour, and not of 
 the private and subtle motions and labours of the 
 countenance and gesture; which, as Q. Cicero ele- 
 gantly saith, is ammijanua, " the gate of the mind." 
 None more close than Tiberius, an.d yet Tacitus saith 
 of Gallus, " Etenim vultu ofFensionem conjectaverat." 
 So again, noting the differing character and manner of 
 his commending Germanicus and Drusus in the senate, 
 he saith, touching his fashion, wherein he carried his 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 198 ADVANCEIMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 speech of Gerinanicus, thus ; " Magis in speciem ador- 
 natis verbis, quam ut penitus sen tire videretur ;" but 
 of Urusus thus, " Paucioribus, sed intentior, et fida 
 oratione : " and in another place, speaking of this cha- 
 racter of speech when he did any thing that was gra- 
 cious and popuhir, lie saith, that in other things he 
 was '• velut eluctantium verborum : " but then again, 
 " Solutius vero loquebatur quando subveniret." So that 
 there is no such artificer of dissimulation, nor no such 
 commanded countenance, vuitiis Justus, that can se- 
 ver from a feigned tale some of these fashions, either 
 a more slight and careless fashion, or more set and 
 formal, or more tedious and wandering, or coming from 
 a man more drily and hardly. 
 
 Neither are deeds such assured pledges, as that 
 they may be trusted without a judicious consideration 
 of their magnitude and nature : " Fraus sibi in parvis 
 fidem prcestruit, ut majore emolumento tallat : " and 
 the Italian thinketh himself upon the point to be bought 
 and sold, when he is better used than he was wont to be, 
 without manifest cause. For small favours, they do but 
 lull men asleep both as to caution and as to industry, 
 and are, as Demosthenes calleth them, " Alimenta so- 
 cordiae." So again we see how false the nature of some 
 deeds are, in that particular which Mutianus practised 
 upon Antonius Primus, upon that hollow and unfaithful 
 reconcilement which was made between them : where- 
 upon Mutianus advanced many of the friends of An- 
 tonius: " simul amicis ejus pra}fecturas ct tribunatus 
 largitur :" wherein, under pretence to strengthen him, 
 he diddesolate him,andwon from liim his dependencies. 
 
 As for words, though they be, like waters to phy- 
 sicians, full of flattery and uncertainty, yet they arc 
 not to be despised, specially with the advantage of pas- 
 sion and affection. For so wc sec Tiberius, upon a sting- 
 ing and incensing speech of Agrippina,came a step forth 
 of his dissimulation, when lie said, " You arc hurt be- 
 cause you do not reign ; " of which Tacitus saith, " Au- 
 dita Ikcc raram occulti pectoris vocem clicuere, correp- 
 tamquc ( rineco versu admonuit : ideo laedi, quia non 
 rognarct." And therefore the poet doth elegantly call
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 199 
 
 passions, tortures, that urge men to confess their secrets : 
 
 Vino tortus ct ira. 
 And experience sheweth, there are few men .so true to 
 themselves, and so settled, but that sometimes upon 
 heat, sometimes upon bravery, sometimes upon kind- 
 ness, sometimes upon trouble of mind and ■weakness, 
 they open themselves ; specially if they be put to it 
 with a counter-dissimulation, according to the proverb 
 of Spain, " Di mentira, y sacaras verdad," *' Tell a 
 lie, and find a truth." 
 
 As for the knowing of men, which is at second hand 
 from reports: mens weakness and faults are best known 
 from their enemies, their virtues and abilities from 
 their friends, their customs and times from their ser- 
 vants, their conceits and opinions from their familiar 
 friends, with whom they discourse most. General fame 
 is light, and the opinions conceived by superiors or 
 equals are deceitful ; for to such, men are more masked, 
 " Verior fama e domesticis emanat." 
 
 But the soundest disclosing and expounding of men 
 is, by their natures and ends ; wherein the weakest 
 sort of men are best interpreted by their natures, and 
 the wisest by their ends. For it was both pleasantly 
 and wisely said, though I think very untruly, by a 
 nuncio of the pope, returning from a certain nation, 
 where he served as lieger ; whose opinion being asked 
 touching the appointment of one to go in his place, he 
 wished that in any case they did not send one that was 
 too wise ; because no very wise man would ever ima- 
 gine, what they in that country were like to do : and 
 certainly it is an error frequent for men to shoot over, 
 and to suppose deeper ends, and more compass reaches 
 than are : the Italian proverb being elegant, and for 
 the most part true, 
 
 Di danari, di senno, e di fede, 
 Ce' ne manco che noii credi: 
 
 " There is commonly less money, less wisdom, and less 
 good faith, than men do account upon." 
 
 But princes, upon a far other reason, are best inter- 
 preted by their natures, and private persons by their ^ 
 ends : for princes being at the top of human desires, 
 
 o 2
 
 200 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book 11. 
 
 they have for the most part no particular ends whereto 
 they aspire, hy distance from which a man might take 
 measure and scale of the rest of their actions and de- 
 sires ; which is one of the causes that maketh their 
 hearts more inscrutable. Neither is it sufficient to 
 inform ourselves in mens ends and natures of the va- 
 riety of them only, but also of the predominancy, what 
 humour reigneth most, and wliat end is principally 
 sought. For so we see, when Tigellinus saw himself 
 out-stripped by Petronius Turpilianus in Nero*s hu- 
 mours of pleasures ; '• metus ejus riraatur," he wrought 
 upon Nero's fears, whereby he broke the other's neck. 
 
 But to all this part of inquiry, the most compendi- 
 ous way restcth in three things ; the first, to have ge- 
 neral acquaintance and inwardness with those which 
 have general acquaintance, and look most into the 
 world ; and especially according to the diversity of 
 business, and the diversity of persons, to have pri- 
 vacy and conversation w-ith some one friend at least, 
 which is perfect and well intelligenced in every se- 
 veral kind. The second is, to keep a good mediocrity 
 in liberty of speech and secrecy : in most things 
 liberty, secrecy where it importcth; for liberty of speech 
 inviteth and provckcth liberty to be used again, and 
 no bringeth much to a man's knovvdcdge; and secrecy, 
 on the other side, induceth trust and inwardness. The 
 last is the reducing of a man's self to this watchful 
 and serene habit, as to make account and purpose, in 
 every conference and action, as well to observe as to 
 act. For as Epictetus would have a philosopher in 
 every particular action to say to himself, '•' Ethoc volo, 
 et etiam institutum servare : " so a politic man in 
 every thing should say to himself, " Et hoc volo, ac 
 etiam aliquid addisccrc^ I hjuC-JStaycd the longer 
 upon this precept of obtaining good iufoi-mationj^^i?- 
 cause it is a main part by itself, which answereth to 
 all the rest. But above all things caution must be 
 taken, that men have a good stay and hold of them- 
 selves, and tliat this nuich knowing do not draw on 
 much nieddling : for nothing is more unfortunate than 
 light and rasji intermeddling in many matters. So that 
 this variety of knowledge tendeth in conclusion but
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 201 
 
 only to this, to make a better and freer choice of those 
 actions which may concern us, and to conduct them 
 with the less error and the more dexterity. 
 
 Th e seco nd precept concernin^this knovvledgej^is for 
 men J^'xak^L-^^MliifofmHIoirtoiicKug their own per- 
 sons, and well to understand themselves: knowing 
 tnat, asl?t. James saitb., though men look oft in a 
 glass, yet they do suddenly forget themselves; wherein 
 as the divine glass is the word of God, so the j)olitic 
 glass is the state of the world, or times wherein we 
 live, in the which we are to behold ourselves. 
 
 For men onght to take an impartial view of their own 
 abilities and virtues ; and again of their wants and 
 impediments ; accounting these with the most ; and 
 those other with the least ; and from this view and 
 examination, to frame the considerations following. 
 
 First, to consider how the constitution of their nature 
 sorteth with the general state of the times ; w'hich it 
 they find agreeable and nt, then in all things to give 
 themseh es more scope and liberty ; but if differing 
 and dissonant, then in the whole course of their life 
 to be more close, retired, and reserved : as we see in 
 Tiberius, who was never seen at a play, and came 
 not into the senate in twelve of his last years ; where- 
 as Augustus Caesar lived ever in mens eyes, which Taci- 
 tus observeth : " Alia Tiberio morum via." 
 
 Secondly, to consider how their nature sorteth with 
 professions and courses of life, and accordingly to make 
 election, if they be free ; and, if engaged, to make the 
 departure at the first opportunity, as we see was done 
 by duke Valentine, that was designed by his father to 
 a sacerdotal profession, but quitted it soon after in re- 
 gard of his parts and inclination ; being such never- 
 theless, as a man cannot tell •well whether they were 
 worse for a prince or for a priest. 
 
 Thirdly, to consider how they sort with those whom 
 they are like to have competitors and concurrents, and 
 to take that course wherein there is most solitude, and 
 themselves like to be most eminent ; as Julius Caev.ar 
 did, who at first was an orator or pleader ; but when 
 he saw the excellency of Cicero, Hortensius, Caiulus,
 
 :202 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 and others, for eloquence, and saw there was no man 
 of reputation for the wars but Porapeius, upon whom 
 the state was forced to rely ; he forsook his course 
 begun toward a civil and popular greatness, and 
 transferred his designs to a martial greatness. 
 
 Fourthly, in the choice of their friends and depen- 
 dences, to proceed according to the composition of 
 their own nature ; as we may see in Caesar ; all whose 
 friends and followers were men active and effectual, 
 but not solemn, or of reputation. 
 
 Fifthly, to take special heed how they guide them- 
 selves by examples, in thinking they can do as they 
 see others do; whereas perhaps their natures and car- 
 riages are far differing. In which error it seemeth Pom- 
 pey was, of whom Cicero saith, that he was wont often 
 to say, " Sylla potuit, ego non potero ? " Wherein he 
 was much abused, the natures and proceedings of him- 
 self and his example being the unlikest in the world ; 
 the one being fierce, violent, and pressing the fact ; 
 the other solemn, and full of majesty and circum- 
 stance ; and therefore the less effectual. 
 
 But this precept touching the politic knowledge of 
 ourselves, hath many other branches whereupon we 
 cannot insist. 
 ^ Next to the well understanding and discerning of a 
 1 man's self, there fojlpwcth the well opening and reveal- 
 ing a man's self; wherein .we see iVothing more usual 
 than for the more able man to make the less shew. 
 For there is a great advantage in the well setting forth 
 of a man's virtues, fortunes, merits ; and again, in the 
 artificial covering of a man's weaknesses, defects, tlis- 
 graccs, staying upon the one, sliding from the other ; 
 cherishing the one by circumstances, gracing tlie other 
 by exposition, and the like ; wherein we see what Ta- 
 citus saith of Mutianus, who was the greatest politician 
 of his time, " Omnium, quae dixerat, feceratque, arte 
 quadam ostentator ;" wliicli requireth indeed some art, 
 lest it turn tedious and arrogant ; but yet so, as osten- 
 tation, thougli it be to the first degree of vanity, seemeth 
 to me rather a vice in manners tlian in policy : for as 
 it is said, " Audacter calumniarc, semper aliquid hac-
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 203 
 
 1 
 
 ret ; " so except it be in a ridiculous degree of de- 
 formity, " Audacter tc veudita, semper aliquid haeret." 
 For it will stick with the more ignorant and inferior 
 sort of men, though men of wisdom and rank do smile 
 at it, and despise it ; and yet tlic authority won with 
 many, doth countervail the disdain of a few. But ii 
 it be carried with decency and government, as with a 
 natural, pleasant, and ingenuous fashion, or at times 
 when it is mixed with some peril and unsafety, as in 
 military persons, or at times when others are most 
 envied ; or with easy and careless passage to it and 
 from it, without dwelling too long, or being too 
 serious ; or with an equal freedom of taxing a man's 
 self, as well as gracing himself; or hy occasion of re- 
 pelling or putting down others injury or insolence ; it 
 doth greatly add to reputation : and surely not a few 
 solid natures that want this ventosity, and cannot sail 
 in the height of the winds, are not without some pre- 
 judice and disadvantage by their moderation. 
 
 But for these flourishes and enhancements of virtue, 
 as they arc not perchance unnecessary, so it is at least 
 necessary tliat virtue be not disvalued and embased 
 under tlie just price, which is done in three manners; 
 by offering and obtruding a man's self, wherein men 
 think he is rewarded, wlien he is accepted: by doing too 
 much, which will not give that which is well done 
 leave to settle, and in the end inducetli satiety : and 
 by finding too soon the fruit of a man's virtue, in com- 
 mendation, applause, honour, favour ; wherein if a 
 man be pleased witli a little, let him hear what is truly 
 said ; " Cave ne insuctus rebus majoribus videaris, si 
 haec te res parva, sicuti magna, delectat." 
 
 But the covering of defects is of no less importance 
 than J^lie valuing of good parts: which maybe done like- 
 wise in three manners, by caution, by colour, and by 
 con^dence. Caution is, when men do ingeniously and 
 discreetly avoid to be ]Hit into those things for which 
 they are not proper : whereas contrariwise, bold and 
 unquiet spirits will thrust themselves into matters 
 without difference, and so publish and ])roclaim all 
 their wants : colour is, when men make a way for them-
 
 204 ADVANCEMENT OF LEAENIXG. [Boolc II. 
 
 selves, to have a construction made of their faults or 
 wants, as proceeding from a better cause, or intended 
 for some other purpose : for of the one it is well said, 
 
 Saepe latet vitium proximilate boni. 
 
 And therefore whatsQevex . w.aula.mmiia$b«JigJOa»st 
 see that he pretend tlie virtue that shadowetl;! |j; j §§_,if 
 he be dull, he must affect g-ravitv : if a cow^r^ j ^ J^^^^- 
 ness ; and so the rest. For the second, a man must 
 frame some probable cause why he should not do his 
 best, and why he should dissemble his abilities ; and 
 for that purpose must use to dissemble those abilities 
 which are notorious in him, to give colour that his 
 true wants are but industries and dissimulations. For 
 confidence, it is the last, but surest remedy ; namely, 
 to depress and seem to despise whatsoever a man can- 
 not attain, observing the good principle of the mer- 
 chants, who endeavour to raise the price of their own 
 commodities, and to beat down the price of others. 
 But there is a confidence that passeth this other, which 
 is, to face out a man's own defects, in seeming to con- 
 ceive that he is best in those things wherein he is fail- 
 ing ; and, to help that again, to seem on the other 
 side that he hath least opinion of himself in those 
 things wherein he is best ; like as we shall see it com- 
 monly in poets, that if they shew their verses, and you 
 except to any, they will say, " that that line cost them 
 more labour than any of the rest ; " and presently will 
 seem to disable and susjiect rather some other line, 
 which they know well enough to be the best in the 
 number. But above all, in this rigliting and helping 
 of a man's self in his own carriage, he must take heed 
 he shew not himself dismantled, and exposed to scorn 
 and injury, by too mucli dulccness, goodness, and faci- 
 lity of nature, but shew some sparkles of liberty, spirit, 
 and edge : which kind of fortified carriage, with a 
 ready rescuing of a man's self from scorns, is some- 
 times of necessity imposed upon men by somewhat in 
 their person or fortune, but it ever succeedetli with 
 good felicity. 
 
 Another precept of this. knowledge j§, by all^Jfi&si-
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 20,5 
 
 blc endeavour to frame tlie iniiul to be pliaut and obe- 
 dieut.to occasum ; for nothing liindereth mens fortunes 
 so much as tliis : '" Idem manebat, neque idem dece- 
 bat." Afen are where they were, when occasions turn ; 
 and therefore to Cato, whom Jiivymaketli such an ar- 
 chitect of fortune, he addeth, tliat lie had versatile 
 ingenhim. And tiiereof it cometh, tliat these grave 
 solemn wits, wliicli must he hke themselves, and can- 
 not make departures, have more dignity than felicity. 
 But in some it is nature to be somewhat viscous and 
 inwrappcd, and not easy to turn. In some it is a con- 
 ceit, that is almost a nature, which is, that men can 
 hardly make themselves believe that they ought to 
 change their course, when they have found good by it- 
 in former experience; fo r M achiave l ^ notet h ^ w isel v. 
 how Fabius Maximus would have been temporizing 
 still, according to his old bias, when tlie nature of the 
 war was altered, and required hot pursuit. In some 
 other it is want of point and penetration in their judg- 
 ment, that they do not discern when things have a 
 period, but come in too late after the occasion ; as De- 
 mosthenes compareth the peoiile of Athens to country 
 fellows, when they play in a fence school, that if they 
 have a blow, then they remove their weapon to that 
 ward, and not before, fn some other it is a loath- 
 ness to lose labours passed, and a conceit that they 
 can bring about occasions to their ply ; and yet in the 
 end, when they sec no other remedy, then they come to 
 it witli disadvantage; as Tarquinius, that gave for the 
 third part of Sibylla's books the treble price, when he 
 might at first have had all three for the simple. But 
 from whatsoever root or cause this restiveness cfmind 
 proceedeth, it is a thing most prejudicial, and upthing 
 is m ore po litic than to make the wheels of our mind 
 conce^ricaii'(l3''oliible with the wheels of fortune. 
 
 AnotHerprecept of this knowledge, which hath some 
 affinity w-ithlTiat we last spake of, but with difference, 
 is that which is well expressed, " fatis accede deis- 
 quc," that men do not only turn with the occasions, 
 but also run with the occasions, and not strain their 
 credit or strength to over-hard or extreme points ; but
 
 206 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Bouk IL 
 
 choose in their action that which is most passable: for 
 this will preserve men from foil, and not occnpy them 
 too much about one matter, win opinion of modera- 
 tion, please the most, and make a show of a perpe- 
 tual felicity in all they undertake ; w^hicli cannot but 
 mightily increase reputation. 
 
 Another part of this knowledge seemeth to have 
 some repugnancy with the former two, but not as I 
 understand it, and it is tliat which Demosthenes ut- 
 tereth in high terms : " Et quemadmodum receptum 
 est, ut excrcitum ducat imperator, sic et a cordatis 
 viris res ipsae ducendte ; ut quae ipsis videntur, ea ge- 
 rantur, et non ipsi eventus tan turn perscqui cogan- 
 tur." For, if we observe, we shall find two differing 
 kinds of sufficiency in managing of business : some can 
 make use of occasions aptly and dexterously, but plot 
 little : some can urge and pursue their own plots well, 
 but cannot accommodate nor take in ; either of which 
 is very imperfect without the other. 
 
 Another part of this knowledge is the pbserving^ji 
 good mediocrity in the declaring, or not declaring a 
 man's self: for although depth of secrecy, and making 
 way, " qualis est via navis in mari," which the French 
 calleth '" sourdes menees," when men set things in 
 work without opening themselves at all, l)e sometimes 
 both prosperous and admirable, yet many times " Dis- 
 simulatio errorcs parit, qui dissimulatorem ipsum iila- 
 queant." And therefore, we see, the greatest politi- 
 cians have in a natural and free manner ])rofessed 
 their desires, rather than been reserved and disguised 
 in them : for so we see that laicius Sylla made a kind 
 of profession, " that he wislied all men ha})py or lui- 
 happy, as they stood his friends or enemies." So 
 Ca?sar, when he went first into Gaul, made no scruple 
 to profess, " that he had rather be iirst in a village, 
 than second at Rome." So again, as soon as he had 
 begun the war, we see what ( 'icero saith of him, " Al- 
 ter," meaning of Caesar, " non recusat, sed quodam- 
 modo postulat, ut, ut est, sic appelletur tyrannus." So 
 we may see in a letter of Cicero to Atticus, that Au- 
 gustus Caesar, in his very entrance into aflairs, when
 
 Book II.] ADVAXCKMEXT OF I.KARNINC!. 207 
 
 he was a darling of the senate, yet in his harangues 
 to tlie people would swear, " I ta parentis honores con- 
 sequi liceat" (which was no less than the tyranny), save 
 that, to help it, he would stretch forth liis liand to- 
 wards a statue of Caesar's, that was erected in the same 
 place : and men laughed, and wondered, and said, Is 
 it possible, or. Did you ever hear the like ? and yet 
 thought he meant no hurt, he did it so handsomely 
 and ingenuously. And all these were prosperous : 
 whereas Pom})cy, who tended to the same ends, but in 
 a more dark and dissembling manner, as Tacitus saith 
 of him, " Occultior, non melior," wherein Sallust con- 
 curreth, " ore probo, animo inverecundo," made it his 
 design, by infinite secret engines, to cast the state into 
 an absolute anarchy and confusion, that the state might 
 cast itself into his arms for necessity and protection, 
 and so the sovereign power be put upon him, and he 
 never seen in it : and when he had brouglit it, as he 
 thought, to that point when he was chosen consul 
 alone, as never any was, yet he could make no great 
 matter of it, because men understood him not ; but was 
 fain in the end to go the beaten track of getting arms 
 into his hands, by colour of the doubt of Caisar's de- 
 signs : so tedious, casual, and unfortunate are these 
 deep dissimulations; whereof, it seemeth, Tacitus made 
 this judgment, that they were a cunning of an inferior 
 form in regard of true policy, attributing the one to 
 Augustus, the other to Tiberius, where, speaking of 
 Livia, he saith, " Et cum artibus mariti simulatione 
 filii bene composita ; " for surely the continual habit 
 of dissimulation is but a weak and sluggish cunning, 
 and not greatly politic. 
 
 Anotlicrjirccept of this architecture of fortune is, 
 to accustom our minds to judge of the proportion, or 
 value_of things, as they conduce and are materi;d to 
 our particular ends ; andjthat.to do substantially and 
 not superficially. For we shall find the logicalpart, 
 as I may term it, of some mens minds good, but the 
 mathematical part erroneous ; that is, they can well 
 judge of consequences, but not of proportions and com- 
 parisons, preferring things of show and sense before
 
 208 ADVANCEMENT OF lEAKNING. [Book II. 
 
 things of substance and effect. So some fall in love 
 with access to princes, others with popular fame and 
 applause, supposing they are things of great purchase ; 
 when, in many cases, they are but matters of envy, 
 peril, and impediment. 
 
 80 some measure things according to the labom* and 
 difficulty, or assiduity, which are spent about them ; 
 and think if they be ever moving, that they must needs 
 advance and proceed : as Csesar saitli in a despising 
 manner of Cato the second, when he describeth how 
 laborious and indefatigable he vvas to no great purpose; 
 " Ha^c omnia magno studio agebat." 80 in most things 
 men are ready to abuse themselves in thinking the 
 greatest means to be best, when it should be the fittest. 
 As for the true marshalling of mens pursuits towards 
 their fortune, as they are more or less material, I hold 
 them to stand thus : first, the amendment of thdr ov.n 
 minds ; for the remo^ e of the impediments of the 
 mind will sooner clear the passages of fortune, than the 
 obtaining fortune will remove the impediments of the 
 mind. In second place I set down wealth and means, 
 which, I know, most men would have placed first, be- 
 cause of the general use which it beareth towards all 
 variety of occasions. But that opinion I may condemn 
 with like reason as Machiavcl doth that other, that 
 moneys were the sinews of the wars, v/liereas, saith he, 
 the true sinews of the wars are the sinews of mens 
 arms, that is, a valiant, populous, and military nation ; 
 and he voucheth aptly the authority of Holon, who, 
 when Croesus showed him his treasury of gold, said to 
 him, that if anotlier came that had better iron, he 
 1 would be master of lii.s gold. In like manner it may 
 be truly affirmed, that it is not moneys that are the 
 sinews of fortune, but it is the sinews and steel of mens 
 minds, wit, courage, audacity, resolution, temper, in- 
 dustry, and the like. In third place I set down repu- 
 tation, because of the peremptory tides and currents it 
 hath, which, if they be not taken in their due time, are 
 seldom recovered, it being extreme hard to play an 
 after-game of reputation. And lastly I place honour, 
 which is moie easily won by any of the other three.
 
 Book II.] ADVAXOE.MEXT OF I.F.ARXIXO. ^QQ 
 
 much more by all, than any of them can be purchased 
 by honour. To conclude this precept, as there is or- 
 der and priority in matter, so is there in time, the pre- 
 posterous placing whereof is one of the commonest er- 
 rors, while men fly to their ends when they should in- 
 tend their beginnings ; and do not take things in order 
 of time as they come on, but marshal them according to 
 greatness, and not according to instance, not observing 
 the good precept, " Quod nunc instat agamus." 
 
 Another precept of tliis knowledge is, not to em- 
 brace any matters which do occupy too great a quan- 
 tity oFtime, but to have that sounding in a man's 
 earg, " 8ed fugit interea, fugit irrcparabile tempus : " 
 and that is the cause why those which take their course 
 of rising by professions of burden, as lawyers, orators, 
 painful divines, and the like, are not commonly so po- 
 litic for their own fortunes, otherwise than in their 
 ordinary way, because they want time to learn parti- 
 culars, to wait occasions, and to devise plots. 
 
 AnotliCL. precept of this knowledge is, to imitate 
 nature, which doth nothing in vain ; which surely a 
 man Inay do if lie do well interlace his husiness, and 
 bend not his mind too nnich upon that which he prin- 
 cipally intendeth. For a man ought in every parti- 
 cular action so to carry the motions of his mind, and 
 so to have one thing under another, as if he cannot 
 have tliat he seeketh in the best degree, yet to have it 
 in a second, or so in a third ; and if he can have no 
 part of that which he purposed, yet to turn the use of 
 it to somewhat else ; and if he cannot make any thing 
 of it for the present, yet to make it as a seed of some- 
 what in time to come ; and if he can contrive no effect 
 or substance from it, yet to win some good opinion by 
 it, or the like. So that he should exact an account 
 of himself of every action, to reap somewhat, and not 
 to stand amazed and confused if he fail of that he 
 chiefly meant : for nothing is more impolitic than to 
 mind actions wholly one by one ; for he that doth so, 
 loseth infinite occasions wliich intervene, and are many 
 times more proper and propitious for somewhat that 
 he shall need afterwards, than for that which he urg-
 
 210 ADVAXCEMKXT OF LEAUNING. [15ook II. 
 
 eth for the present ; and therefore men must be perfect 
 in that rule, " Hsec oportet facere, et illanon omittere." 
 
 Another jyecept of this knowledge is, not to engage 
 a man's self peremptorily in tmy tiling, tliough it se'effT' 
 not liable to accident, but ever to have a window to fly 
 out at, or a way to retire ; following the wisdom in the 
 ancient fable of the two frogs, which consulted when 
 their plash was dry whither they should go, and the 
 one moved to go down into a pit, because it was not 
 likely the water would dry there, but the other answer- 
 ed, " True, but if it do, how shall we get out again ? " 
 
 Another precept of this knowledge is, that ancient 
 precept of Bias, construed not to any point of perfidi- 
 ousness, but only to caution and moderation, " Et ama 
 tanquam inimicus futurus, et odi tanquam amaturus:" 
 for it utterly betray eth all utility, for men to embark 
 themselves too far into unfortunate friendships, trou- 
 blesome spleens, and childish and humorous envies or 
 emulations. 
 
 But I continue this beyond the measure of an ex- 
 ample, led, because I would not have such knowledges, 
 which I note as deficient, to be thought things ima- 
 ginative, or in the air ; or an observation or two much 
 made of, but things of bulk and mass, whereof an end 
 is hardlier made than a beginning. It must be like- 
 wise conceived that in those points which I mention 
 and set down, they are far from com]ilete tractates of 
 them, but only as small pieces for patterns : and lastly, 
 no man, I suppose, will think that I mean fortunes are 
 not obtained without all this ado ; for I know they 
 come tumbling into some mens laps, and a number ob- 
 tain good fortunes by diligence in a plain way, little 
 intermeddling, and keeping themselves from gross 
 errors. 
 
 But as Cicero, when he setteth down an idea of a 
 perfect orator, doth not mean that every pleader should 
 be such ; and so likewise, when a prince or a courtier 
 hath been described by such as have handled those 
 subjects, the mould hath used to be made according to 
 the perfection of the art, and not according to common 
 practice : so I understand it, tliat it ought to be done
 
 Book II. J ADVAXCEMEXT OF LEAllXINO. 211 
 
 in the description of a politic man, I mean politic for 
 his own fortune. 
 
 But it must be remembered all this while, that tlie 
 precepts which we liavc set. down arc of .that kind 
 wliic'li may Ix' counted and called boricB artes. As for 
 evil art^, if a man would set down for himself that 
 principle of IMachiavel ; " that a man seek not to at- I 
 tain virtue itself, but the appearance only thereof; be- 
 cause the credit of virtue is a help, but the use of it 
 IF. cumber :" or that other of his principles ; " that he 
 presuppose that men are not fitly to be wrought other- 
 wise but by fear, and therefore that he seek to have 
 every man obnoxious, low, and in strait," which the 
 Italians call " seminar spine," to sow thorns : or that 
 other principle contained in the verse which Cicero 
 citeth, " Cadant amici, dummodo inimici intercidant," 
 as the Triumvirs, which sold, every one to other, the 
 lives of their friends, for the deaths of their enemies : 
 or that other protestation of L. Catilina, to set on fire, 
 and trouble states, to the end to fish in droumy wa- 
 ters, and to unwrap their fortunes, " Ego si quid in 
 fortunis meis excitatum sit incendium, id non aqua, 
 sed ruina restinguam :" or that other principle of Ly- 
 sander, " that children are to be deceived with com- 
 fits, and men with oaths:" and the like evil and cor-\ 
 rupt positions, whereof, as in all things, there are more 1 
 in nnrnber than of the good : certainly, with these dis- \ 
 pensations irom the laws of charity and integrity, the 
 pressiligOf a man's fortune may be more hasty and 
 compendious. But it is in life, as it is in ways, the 
 shortest way is commonly the foulest, and surely the 
 fairer way is not much about. 
 
 But men, if they be in their own power, and do bear 
 and sustain themselves, and be not carried away with 
 a whirlwind or tempest of ambition, ought, in the pur- 
 suit of their own fortune, to set before their eyes, not 
 only that general map of the world, that " all things 
 are vanity and vexation of spirit," but many other 
 more particular cards and directions : chiefly that, that 
 being, without well-being, is a curse, and tlie greater 
 being the greater curse ; and that all virtue is most
 
 212 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 rewarded, and all wickedness most punished in it&elf : 
 according as the poet saith excellently : 
 
 Quae vobis, quae difrna, viri, pro laudibus istis 
 Pr£emia posse rear solvi ? pulcherrima primum 
 Dii nioresque dabunt vestri. 
 
 And so of the contrary. And, secondly, they ought 
 to look up to the eternal providence and divine judg- 
 ment, which often subverteth the wisdom of evil plots 
 and imaginations, according to that Scripture, " He 
 hatli conceived mischief, and shall bring forth a vain 
 thing." And although men should refrain themselves 
 from injury and evil arts, yet this incessant and Sab- 
 bathless pursuit of a man's fortune leaveth not that 
 tribute which we owe to God of our time : who, we 
 see, demandeth a tenth of our substance, and a seventh, 
 which is more strict, of our time : and it is to small 
 piu"pose to have an erected face towards heaven, and a 
 perpetual groveling spirit upon earth, eating dust, as 
 doth the serpent, " Atque affigit humo divina? particu- 
 1am aurae." And if any man flatter himself that he will 
 employ his fortune well, though he should obtain it ill, 
 as was said concerning Augustus Caesar, and after of 
 SeptimiusSeverus, " that either they should never have 
 been born, or else they should never have died," they 
 did so much mischief in the pursuit and ascent of their 
 greatness, and so much good when they were establish- 
 ed : yet these compensations and satisfactions are good 
 to be used, but never good to be purposed. And, lastly, 
 it is not amiss for men in their race towards their 
 fortune, to cool themselves a little with that conceit 
 which is elegantly expressed by the emperor (Jharles 
 the fifth, in his instructions to the king his son, " that 
 fortune hath soTuev/hat of the nature of a woman, that 
 if she be too much wooed, she is the farther off," 
 But this last is but a remedy for those whose tastes 
 are corrupted : let men rather build upon that foun- 
 dation which is as a corner-stone of divinity and phi- 
 losophy, wherein they join close, namely, that same 
 Primum (juciritc. For divinity saith, " Primum 
 quaerite regnum Dei, et ista omnia adjicicntur vobis:" 
 and philosophy saith, " IVimum quaerite bona animi.
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF I-EARNING. 213 
 
 caetera aut adcnnit, aut non obcnnit.'* And although 
 thclmniaii foundation hath somewhat of tlic.sands,aswc 
 see in I\f . Brutus, when he brake forth into that speech, 
 
 Te cohii, virtus, ut rem : ast tu nonien inane es : 
 yet the divine foundation is upon tlie rock. But this 
 may serve for a taste of that knowledge which I noted 
 as deficient. 
 
 Concer ning ^overnme ijt, it is a part of knowledge, 
 secret and retired in both these respects, in which 
 things arc (TccnVcd secret ; for some things are secret r 
 becaiise^flrey nrc hard to know, and some because they ; 
 are nor Jit to utter ; we see all governments are ob- J 
 sciu*e and invisible. 
 
 Totamque infusa per artus, 
 Mens agitat niolem, et niagno se corpore miscet. 
 
 Such is the description of governments : we see the 
 government of God over the world is hidden, insomuch 
 as it seemeth to participate of nuich irregularity and 
 confusion : the government of the soul in moving the 
 body is inward and profound, and the passages thereof 
 hardly to be reduced to demonstration. Again, the wis- 
 dom of antiquity, the shadows whereof are in the poets, 
 in the description of torments and pains, next unto the 
 crime of rebellion, which was the giants offence, doth 
 detest the crime of futility, as in Sisyphus and Tanta- 
 lus. But this was meant of particulars ; nevertheless, 
 ex en unto the general rules and discourses of policy and 
 government there is due a reverent and reserved hand- 
 ling. 
 
 But, contrari\yisej_ in the governors to\vards the go- 
 verned, all things ought, as far as the frailty of mau 
 permittcth, to be manifest and revealed. For so it is 
 expressed in the Scriptures touching the government 
 of God, that this globe which seemeth to us a dark 
 and shady body, is in the view of God as crystal, " Et 
 in conspectu sedis tanquam mare vitreum simile crys- 
 tallo." 80 unto princes and states, specially towards wise 
 senates and councils, the natures and dispositions of 
 the people, their conditions and necessities, their fac- 
 tions and combinations, their animosities and discon- 
 
 VOL, I. V
 
 214 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNENG. [Book II. 
 
 tents, ought to be, in regard of the variety of their in- 
 telhgences, the wisdom of their observations, and the 
 height of the station where they keep centinel, in 
 great part clear and transparent. Wherefore, consi- 
 dering that I write to a king that is a master of this 
 science, and is so well assisted, I think it decent to pass 
 over this part in silence, as willing to obtain the cer- 
 tificate w4iich one of the ancient philosophers aspired 
 unto; who being silent, when others contended to make 
 demonstration of their abilities by speech, desired it 
 might be certified for his part, " that there was one that 
 knew how to " hold his peace." 
 
 Notwithstanding, for the more public part of gp- 
 vernment, wliTcTi Ts"Taws^~I think good to note oiilv one 
 ; deficiehce : whicli is, that all those which hate written 
 of laws, have written either as philosophers, or a§"taw- 
 yers, and none as statesmen. As for the philosopheTST' 
 they make imaginary laws for imaginary common- 
 wealths, and their discourses are as the stars, which 
 give little light, because they are so high. For tlie law^- 
 yers, they write according to the states where they live, 
 what is received law, and not what ought to be law ; 
 for the wisdom of a law-maker is one, and of a lawyer 
 is another. For there are in nature certain fountains 
 of justice, whence all civil laws are derived but as 
 streams : and like as waters do take tinctures and 
 tastes from the soils throng:}] which tliev run. so do civil 
 laws vary according to the regions and governments 
 where they are planted, though they proceed from the 
 same fountains. Asain, the wisdom of a law-maker 
 consisteth not only in a platform of justice, but in the 
 application thereof; taking into consideration, by what 
 means laws may be made certain, and what are the 
 causes and remedies of tlie doubtfulness and incertainty 
 of law ; by what means laws may be made apt and easy 
 to be executed, and what are the impediments and 
 remedies in the execution of laws ; what influence laws 
 touching private right of meum and tuum have into 
 the public state, and how they may be made apt and 
 agreeable ; how laws are to be penned and delivered, 
 whether in texts or in acts, brief or large, with- pre-
 
 15ook II.] AI)VANCEi\rENT OF LEARNING. 215 
 
 ambles, or without ; how they are to be pruned and 
 reformed from time to time, and w^hat is the best 
 means to keep them from being too vast in volumes, 
 or too full of multiplicity or crossness ; liow they are 
 to be expounded, when upon causes emergent, and 
 judicially discussed ; and when upon responses and 
 conferences touching general ])oints or questions : how 
 they are to be pressed, rigorously or tenderly ; how 
 they are to be mitigated by equity and good conscience, 
 and whether discretion and strict law are to be min- 
 gled in the same courts, or kept apart in several 
 courts; again, how the practice, profession, and erudition De pruden- 
 of law is to be censured and governed : and many '/^.'<'?'?'*- 
 other points touching the administration, and, as I de fonUbus 
 may term it, animation of laws. Upon which I insist J""^' 
 the less, because I propose, if T^od give me leave, 
 having begun a work of this nature, in aphorisms, to 
 jnopound it hereafter, noting it in the mean time for 
 deficient. 
 
 And for your majesty's laws of England, I could 
 say much of their dignity, and somewhat of their de- 
 fect ; but they cannot but excel the civil law^s in fitness 
 for the government ; for the civil law was, " Non hos 
 quaesitum munus in usus ; it was not made for the 
 countries which it governeth : hereof I cease to speak, 
 because I will not intermingle matter of action with 
 matter of general learning. 
 
 Thus have I concluded this portion of learning 
 touching civil knowledge, and with civil knowledge 
 have concluded human philosophy; and with human 
 philosophy, philosophy in general ; and being now at 
 some pause, looking back into that I have passed 
 through, this writing sccmcth to me, ,si mniquam fallit 
 imago, as far as a man can judge of his own work, not 
 much better than that noise or sound w^hicli musicians 
 make while they are in tuning their instruments, 
 which is nothing pleasant to hear, but yet is a cause 
 why the music is sweeter afterwards. So have I been 
 content to tune the instruments of the Muses, that 
 they may play that have better hands. And surely, 
 
 p a
 
 216 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 when I set before me the condition of these times, in 
 which learning hath made her third visitation or circuit 
 in all tlie qualities thereof; as the excellency and vi- 
 vacity of the wits of this age ; the noble helps and 
 lights which we have by the travels of ancient writers; 
 the art of printing, which communicateth books to 
 men of all fortunes ; the openness of the world by na- 
 vigation, which hath disclosed multitudes of experi- 
 ments, and a mass of natural history; the leisure 
 wherewith these times aboimd, not employing men so 
 generally in civil business, as the states of Gra?cia did, 
 in respect of their popularity and the state of Rome in 
 respect of the greatness of their monarchy ; the pre- 
 sent disposition of these times at this instant to 
 I peace ; the consumption of all that ever can be said 
 in controversies of religion, which have so much di- 
 verted men from other sciences ; the perfection of your 
 majesty's learning, which asa phoenix may call whole vol- 
 lies of wits to follow you; and the inseparable propriety 
 of time, which is ever more and more to disclose truth ; 
 I cannot but be raised to this pcrsuasioUj that this 
 third-^^eriod of time will far surpass that of tue^Grae- 
 cia^^aiid Roman learning: only if men will know their 
 own strength, and their own weakness both ; and 
 take, one from the other, light of invcntTon"; and 
 not fire of contradiction ; and esteem of the inquisi- 
 tion of truth, as of an enterprise, and not as of a qua- 
 lity or ornament ; and employ wit and magnificence to 
 things of worth and excellency, and not to things vulgar 
 and of popular estimation. As for my labours, if any 
 man should please himself, or others, in the reprehen- 
 sion of them, they shall make that ancient and patient 
 request, " Verbcra, scd audi." Let men reprcliend 
 them, so they observe and weigh them. For the ap- 
 peal is lawful, though it may be it shall not be need- 
 ful, from the first cogitations of men to their second, 
 and from the nearer times to the times farther off. 
 Now let us come to that learning, which both_the for- 
 mer times were not so blessed as to know, sacred and 
 inspired Divinity, the sabbath and pprt of all mens la-^ 
 hours and peregrinations. "
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEAR>fING. 217 
 
 The prerggg,tivc of God extendeth as well to thej 
 reason, as to the will of man ; so that as we are toj 
 obey his law, tliough we find a reluctation in our will;! 
 so we are to believe his word, though we find a reluc->| 
 tation in our reason. For if we believe only that which 
 is agreeable to our sense, we give consent to the matter, 
 and not to the author, which is no more than we would 
 do towards a suspected and discredited witness : but 
 that faith which was " accounted to Abraham for righ- 
 teousness," was of such a point, as whereat Sarah 
 laughed, who therein was an image of natural reason. 
 
 Howbeit, if we will truly consider it, more worthy 
 it is to believe than to know as we now know. For 
 in knowledge man's mind suffereth from sense, but in 
 belief it sufFereth from spirit, such one as it holdeth 
 for more authorised than itself; and so suffereth from 
 the worthier agent. Otherwise it is of the state of 
 man glorified, for then faith shall cease, and " we shall 
 know as we are known." 
 
 Wherefore we conclude, tha^sacred theology, which 
 in our idiom we call divinity, is grounded only uppn 
 the word and oracle of JSoclj and not upon the light 
 of oiaiaixe /Tor it is written, " Coeli enarrant gloriam 
 Dei : " but it is not written, " Coeli enarrant volunta- 
 tem Dei : " but of that it is said, " Ad legem et tes- 
 timonium, si non fecerint secundum verbum istud," etc. 
 This holdeth not only in those points of faith which 
 concern the great mysteries of the Deity, of the creation, 
 of the redemption, but likewise those which concern 
 the law moral truly interpreted ; " Love your enemies : 
 do good to them that hate you: be like to your heavenly 
 Father, that suffereth his rain to fall upon the just 
 and unjust." To this it ought to be applauded, " Nee 
 vox hominem sonat," it is a voice beyond the light of 
 nature. So we see the heatlien poets, when they fall 
 upon a libertine passion, do still expostulate with laws 
 and moralities, as if they were opposite and malignant 
 to nature ; " Et quod natura remittit, Invida jura ne- 
 gant." So said Dendamis the Indian unto Alexan- 
 der's messengers ; " That he had heard somewhat of 
 Pythagoras, and some other of the wise men of Grsecia, 
 
 it
 
 218 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 and that he held them for excellent men : but that 
 they had a fault, which was, that they had in too great 
 reverence and veneration a thing they called law and 
 manners."' So it must be confessed. that a great part 
 of the law moral is of that perfection, whereun to the 
 ^ig^jSO^itjirJS-c^^^^^t-^spdre,: how then is it, that man 
 is said to have, by the light and law of nature, some 
 notions and conceits of virtue and vice, justice and 
 wrong, good and evil ? Thus : because the light of 
 nature is used in two several senses ; the one, that 
 which springeth from reason, sense, induction, argu- 
 ment, according to the laws of heaven and earth ; the 
 other, that which is imprinted upon the spirit of man 
 by an inward instinct, according to the law of con- 
 science, which is a sparkle of the purity of his first 
 estate : in which latter sense only he is participant of 
 some light and discerning touching the perfection of 
 the moral law : but how ? Sufficient to check the 
 vice, but not to inform tlie duty. So then the doc- 
 trine of religion, as well moral as mystical, is nof tb1)e 
 attainHO)utri5yiRs^piratioJft.^^^ God. 
 
 The use, notwithstanding, of reason, in spiritual 
 things, and^"We" latitude thereof, is very great" and ge- 
 neral ; for it is not for nothing that the apostle calleth 
 religion our reasonable service of God, insomuch as 
 the very ceremonies and figures of the old law were 
 full of reason and signification, much . more than the 
 ceremonies of idolatry and magic, that are full of non- 
 significants and surd characters. But most especially 
 the Christian faith, as in all things, so in this, de- 
 serveth to be highly magnified, holding and preserving 
 the golden mediocrity in this point, between the law of 
 the heatlien, and the lavv of iVIahomet, which have 
 embraced the two extremes. For the religion of the 
 heathen had no constant belief or confession, but left 
 all to tlic liberty of argument ; and the religion of 
 Mahomet, on the other side, interdicteth argument 
 altogether : the one having the very face of error, and 
 the other of imposture ; whereas the faith doth both 
 admit and reject disputation witli difference. 
 
 Thcjnsej)njjijinan m^^^ in religion is of two sorts:
 
 Book JI.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 219 
 
 the former, in the conception and apprehension of the 
 ^y^?t'?!'i:?^9^^^^t^ "'^ revealed ; thq other, in the mfer- 
 ring and deri\iiig of doctrine and dirqctiou thereupon? 
 The former extendeth to tlie mysteries themselves ; 
 but how ? By way of illustration, and not by way of 
 argument. The latter consisteth indeed of probation 
 and argument. In the former, we see, God vouch- 
 safeth to descend to our capacity, in the expressing of 
 his mysteries in sort as may be sensible unto us ; and 
 doth graft his revelations and holy doctrine upon the 
 notions of our reason, and applieth his inspirations to 
 open our understanding, as the form of the key to the 
 ward of the lock. For the latter, there is allowed us 
 an use of reason and argument, secondary and re- 
 spective, although not original and absolute. For after 
 the articles and principles of religion are placed and 
 exempted from examination of reason, it is then per- 
 mitted unto us to make derivations and inferences 
 from, and according to the analogy of them, for our 
 better direction. In nature this holdeth not, for both 
 the principles arc examinable by induction, though not 
 by a medium or syllogism ; and, besides, those princi- 
 ples or first positions have no discordance with that 
 reason, which draweth down and deduceth the infe- 
 rior positions. But yet it holdeth not in religion alone, 
 but in many knowledges, both of greater and smaller 
 nature, namely, wherein there are not only posita but 
 placita ; for in such there can be no use of absolute 
 reason : we see it familiarly in games of wit, as chess, 
 or the like ; the draughts and first laws of the game 
 are positive, but how ? merely ad placitum, and not 
 examinable liy reason : but then how to direct our 
 play thereupon with best advantage to win the game, 
 is artificial and rational. 80 in human laws, there be 
 many grounds and maxims, which are placita Juris, 
 positive upon authority, and not upon reason, and 
 therefore not to be disputed : but what is most just, 
 not absolutely, but relatively and according to those 
 maxims, that affordeth a long field of disputation. Such 
 therefore is that secondary reason, which hath place in 
 divinity, which is grounded upon the placets of God. 
 
 y
 
 220 
 
 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 De usu 
 legitirao 
 rationis 
 humans 
 in divjnis. 
 
 (/ 
 
 Here therefore I note this dcficience, that there hath 
 not been, to my understaiidmg, sufficiently hic[uired 
 and handled the true limits and use of reason in spi- 
 ritual things, as a kind of divine dialectic : wliicH for " 
 that it is not done, it seemeth to me a thing' usual, by 
 pretext of true conceiving that which is revealed, to 
 search and mine into that which is not revealed, and, 
 by pretext of enucleating inferences and contradicto- 
 ries, to examine that whicli is positive : the one sort 
 falling into the error of Nicodemus, demanding to 
 have things made more sensible tlian it pleaseth God 
 to reveal them, " Quomodo possit homo nasci cum sit 
 senex ? " the other sort into the error of the disciples, 
 which were scandalized at a shew of contradiction, 
 " Quid est hoc, quod dicit nobis ? IModicum et non 
 videbitisme, etiterum modicum, et videbitis me," etc. 
 
 Upon this I have insisted the more, in regard of the 
 great and blessed use thereof; for this point, well 
 laboured and defined of, would, in my judgment, be 
 an opiate to stay and bridle not only the vanity of cu- 
 rious speculations, wherewith the schools labour, but 
 the fury of controversies, wherewith the Church labour- 
 eth. For it cannot but open mens eyes, to see that 
 many controversies do merely pertain to that which is 
 either not revealed, or positive, and that many others 
 do grow upon weak and obscure inferences or deriva- 
 tions ; which latter sort, if men would revive the 
 blessed stile of that great doctor of the Gentiles, would 
 be carried thus ; Ego, own Dominus ; and again. 
 Secundum coiuiliuvi nieum ; in opinions and counsels, 
 and not in positions and oppositions. But men are 
 now over-ready to usurp the stile, Non ego, sed Do7Jii- 
 nus ; and not so only, but to bind it with the thun- 
 der and denunciation of curses and anathemas, to the 
 terror of those which have not sufficiently learned out 
 of Solomon, that " tlic causeless curse shall not come." 
 
 Divinit}^ hath two principal J^nirts ; the inatte r in. 
 formecT or revealed, and the nature of th^iiitbrmatioii 
 or revelation : and with the latter we will begin, be- 
 cause it hath most colicrence with that wliicli we have 
 now last handled. 'J'lie nature of the informiition^n- 
 pisteth of three brandies ; the limits of the inform a-
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 221 
 
 tion, tlic sufficiency of the information, and the ac- 
 qiiirhig qrj^btaining tlic information. Unto the limits 
 of tlie information helong these considerations; how far 
 forth particular persons continue to be inspired; liow far 
 fortli the (yhurch is inspired ; and how far forth reason 
 may be used : the last point whereof I have denoted as 
 deficient. Unto the sufHciency of the information belong 
 two considerations : what points of religion are funda- 
 mental, and what perfective, being matter of farther 
 building and perfection upon one and the same foun- 
 dation ; and again, how the gradations of light, ac- 
 cording to the dispensation of times, are material to 
 the sufHciency of belief. 
 
 Here again I may rather give it in advice, than note Dc gradi- 
 it as deficient, that the points fundamental, and the j'n civJufe'* 
 points of farther perfection, only ought to be with piety i)e«. 
 and wisdom distinguished ; a subject tending to much 
 like end, as that I noted before ; for as that other 
 were likely to abate the number of controversies, so 
 this is like to abate the heat of many of them. We 
 see Moses when he saw the Israelite and the jEgyp- 
 tian fight, he did not say, " Why strive you? " but 
 drew his sword, and slew the Egyptian : but when 
 he saw the two Israelites fight, he said, " You are bre- 
 thren, why strive you ? " If the point of doctrine be 
 an ^Egyptian, it must be slain by " the sword of the 
 Spirit," and not reconciled : but if it be an Israelite, 
 though in the wrong, then, " AVhy strive you ? " We 
 see of the fundamental points, our Saviour penneth 
 the league thus ; " He that is not with us, is against 
 us ; " but of points not fundamental, thus ; " He that 
 is not against us, is with us." So we see the coat of 
 our Saviour was entire without seam, and so is the doc- 
 trine of the Scriptures in itself; but the garment of 
 the Church was of divers colours, and yet not divided: 
 we see the chaff may and ought to be severed Ironi 
 the corn in the car, but the tares may not be pulled 
 up from the corn in the field. So as it is a thing of 
 great use well to define, what, and of what latitude 
 those points are, which do make men merely aliens and 
 disincorporate from the Uhurch of God. 
 
 For the obtaining of the infornuitiou, it resteth upon
 
 222 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 the true and soimd interpretation of the Scriptures, 
 which are the fountains of the water of Hfe. The in- 
 terpretations of the Scriptures are of two sorts : me- 
 thodical, and sokite or at large. For this divine water, 
 which excelleth so much that of Jacob's well, is drawn 
 forth much in the same kind, as natural water useth 
 to be out of wells and fountains ; either it is first 
 forced up into a cistern, and from thence fetched and 
 derived for use ; or else it is drawn and received in 
 buckets and vessels immediately where it springeth. 
 The former sort whereof, though it seem to be the 
 more ready, yet, in my judgment, is more subject to 
 corrupt. This is that method which hath exhibited 
 unto us the scholastical divinity, whereby divinity hath 
 been reduced into an art as into a cistern, and the 
 streams of doctrine or positions fetched and derived 
 from thence. 
 
 In this men have sought three things, a summary 
 brevity, a compacted strength, and a complete perfec- 
 tion ; whereof the two first they fail to find, and the 
 last they ought not to seek. For as to brevity, we see, 
 in all summary methods, while men purpose to abridge, 
 they give cause to dilate. For the sum, or abridg- 
 ment, by contraction becometh obscure : the obscurity 
 requireth exposition, and the exposition is deduced into 
 large commentaries, or into common places and titles, 
 which grow to be more vast than the original writ- 
 ings, whence the sum was at first extracted. So, we 
 see, the volumes of the schoolmen are greater much 
 than the first writings of the fathers, whence the mas- 
 ter of the sentences made his sum or collection. So, 
 in like manner, the volumes of the modern doctors of 
 the civil law exceed those of the ancient jurisconsults, 
 of which Trebonian compiled the digest. So as this 
 course of sums and commentaries is that which doth 
 infallibly make tlie body of sciences more immense in 
 quantity, and more base in substance. 
 
 And for strength, it is true, that knowledges re- 
 duced into exact methods have a show of strength, in 
 that eacli part seemeth to support and sustain the 
 other ; but this is more satisfactory than substantial :
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEAllNING. 223 
 
 like unto buildings which stand by architecture and 
 compaction, whicli are more subject to ruin, than those 
 that are built more strong in their several parts, thougli 
 less compacted. But it is plain, that the more you 
 recede from your grounds, the weaker do you conclude: 
 and as in nature, tlie more you remove yourself from 
 particulars, tlie greater peril of error you do incur ; so 
 mucli more in divinity, the more you recede from the 
 Scriptures, by inferences and consequences, the more 
 weak and dilute are your positions. 
 
 And as for perfection, or completeness in divinity, 
 it is not to be sought ; which makes this course of 
 artificial divinity the more suspect. For he that will 
 reduce a knowledge into an art, will make it round and 
 uniform : but, in divinity, many things must be left 
 abrupt and concluded with this : " O altitude sapien- 
 tiae et scientiaB Dei ! quam incomprehensibilia sunt 
 judicia ejus, et non investigabiles viae ejus?" So 
 again the apostle saith, " Ex parte scimus ; " and to 
 have the form of a total, where there is but matter for 
 a part, cannot be without supplies by supposition and 
 presumption. And therefore I conclude, that the true 
 use of these sums and methods hath place in institu- 
 tions or introductions preparatory vmto knowledge ; 
 but in them, or by deducement from them, to handle 
 the main body and substance of a knowledge, is in all 
 sciences prejudicial, and in divinity dangerous. 
 
 As to the interpretation of the Scriptures solute 
 and at large, there have been divers kinds introduced 
 and devised ; some of them rather curious and unsafe, 
 than sober and warranted. Notwithstanding, thus 
 much must be confessed, that the Scriptures being 
 given by inspiration, and not by human reason, do 
 differ from all other books in the author ; which by 
 consequence doth draw on some difference to be used 
 by the expositor. For the inditer of them did know 
 four things which no man attains to know ; which are, 
 the mysteries of the kingdom of glory, tlie perfection 
 of the laws of nature, the secrets of the heart of man, 
 and the future succession of all ages. For as to tlie 
 first, it is said, " He that presseth into the light, shall
 
 224 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 be oppressed of the glory." And again, " No man 
 shall see my face and live." To the second, " When 
 he prepared the heavens I was present, when by law 
 and compass he enclosed the deep." To the third, 
 " Neither was it needful that any should bear witness 
 to him of man, for he knew well what was in man." 
 And to the last, " From the beginning are known to 
 the Lord all his works." 
 
 From the former of these two have been drawn cer- 
 tain senses and expositions of Scriptures, which had 
 need be contained within the bounds of sobriety ; the 
 one anagogical, and the other philosophical. But as 
 to the former, man is not to prevent his time, " Vi- 
 demus nunc per speculum in aenigmate, tunc autem 
 facie adfaciem ;" wherein, nevertheless, there seemeth 
 to be a liberty granted, as far forth as the polishing of 
 this glass, or some moderate explication of this enig- 
 ma. But to press too far into it, cannot but cause a 
 dissolution and overthrow of the spirit of man : for in 
 the body there are three degrees of that we receive into 
 it, aliment, medicine, and poison ; whereof aliment is 
 that which the nature of man can perfectly alter and 
 overcome ; medicine is that which is partly converted 
 by nature, and partly convertcth nature ; and poison 
 is that which worketh wholly upon nature, without 
 that, that nature can in any part work upon it : so in 
 the mind, whatsoever knowledge reason cannot at all 
 work upon and convert, is a mere intoxication, and 
 indangereth a dissolution of the mind and under- 
 standing. 
 
 But for the latter, it hath been extremely set on foot 
 of late time by the school of Paracelsus, and some 
 others, that have pretended to find the truth of all 
 natural pliiloso})hy in the Scriptures ; scandalizing and 
 traducing all other pliilosophy as heathenisli and pro- 
 fane. But there is no such enmity between (tocI's 
 word and his works ; neither do they give honoiu- to 
 the Scriptures, as they suppose, but much embasc 
 them. F(>r to seek heaven and cartli in tlie word ot 
 God, whereof it is said, " heaven and earth shall pass, 
 but my word shall not pass," is to seek temporary
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 225 
 
 things amongst eternal ; and as to seek divinity in 
 philosophy, is to seek the living amongst tlie dead ; so 
 to seek philosophy in divinity, is to seek the dead 
 amongst the living ; neither are the pots or lavers, 
 whose place was in the ontward part of the temple, to 
 be sought in the holiest place of all, where the ark of 
 the testimony was seated. And again, the scope or 
 purpose of the Spirit of God is not to express matters 
 fif nature in the Scriptures, otherwise than in passage, 
 and for apjilication to man's capacity, and to matters 
 moral or divine. And it is a true rule, " Auctoris 
 aliud agentis parva auctoritas : " for it were a strange 
 conclusion, if a man should use a similitude for orna- 
 ment or illustration sake, borrowed from nature or his- 
 tory, according to vulgar conceit, as of a basilisk, an 
 unicorn, a centaur, a Briareus, an Hydra, or the like, 
 that therefore he must needs be thought to affirm the 
 matter thereof positively to be true. To conclude 
 therefore, these two interpretations, the one by re- 
 duction or enigmatical, the other philosophical or phy- 
 sical, which have been received and pursued in imita- 
 tion of the rabbins and cabalists, are to be confined 
 with a " noli altum sapere, sed time." 
 
 But the two latter points, known to God, and un- 
 known to man, touching the secrets of the heart, and 
 the successions of time, do make a just and sound dif- 
 ference between the manner of the exposition of the 
 Scriptures and all other books. For it is an excellent 
 observation which hath been made upon the answers 
 of our Saviour Christ to many of the questions which 
 were pro})ounded to him, how tliat they are imperti- 
 nent to the state of the question demanded ; the rea- 
 son whereof is, because not being like man, which 
 knows man's thoughts by his words, but knowing man's 
 thoughts immediately, he never answered their words 
 but their thoughts : much in the like manner it is with 
 the Scriptures, which being written to the thoughts 
 of men, and to the succession of all ages, with a fore- 
 sight of all heresies, contradictions, differing estates 
 of the Church, yea, and particularly of the elect, are 
 not to be interpreted only according to the latitude of
 
 296 ADVANCEMENT OT' LEAKNING. [Book II. 
 
 the proper sense of the place, and respectively towards 
 that present occasion, whereupon the words were ut- 
 tered, or in precise congruity or contexture with the 
 words before or after, or in contemplation of the prin- 
 cipal scope of the place ; but have in themselves, not 
 only totally or collectively, but distributively in clauses 
 and words, infinite springs and streams of doctrine to 
 water the Church in every part : and therefore as the 
 literal sense is, as it were, the main stream or river, so 
 the moral sense chiefly, and sometimes the allegorical 
 or typical, are they whereof the Church hath most use: 
 not that I wish men to be bold in allegories, or indul- 
 gent or light in allusions ; but that I do mucli condemn 
 that interpretation of the Scripture, which is only 
 after the manner as men use to interpret a profane 
 book. 
 
 In this part, touching the exposition of jthe Scrij)- 
 tures, I can report no deficience ; but by way of re- 
 membrance, this I will add, in perusing books of di- 
 vinity, I find many books of controversies, and many 
 of common places, and treatises, a mass of positive 
 divinity, as it is made an art ; a number of sermons and 
 lectures, and many prolix commentaries upon the 
 Scriptures, with harmonies and concordances: but that 
 form of writing in divinity, which in my judgment is 
 of all others most rich and precious, is positive divi- 
 nity, collected upon particular texts of Scriptures in 
 brief observations, not dilated into common places ; 
 not chasing after controversies ; not reduced into me- 
 thod of art ; a thing abounding in sermons, which will 
 vanish, but defective in books which will remain, and 
 a thing wherein this age excelleth. For I am per- 
 suaded, and I may speak it, with an " Absit invidia 
 verbo," and no ways in derogation of antiquity, but 
 as in a good emulation between the vine and the olive. 
 That if the choice and best of those observations upon 
 texts of Scriptures, which have been made dispersedly 
 in sermons within this your majesty's island of Bri- 
 tain, by the space of these forty years and more, leaving 
 out tlie largeness of exliortations and applications 
 thereupon, liad been set down in a continuance, it
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 227 
 
 had been the best work in divinity, which had been 
 written since the apostles times. 
 
 Thejnattcr mformed by divinity is of two kinds ; hi 
 matter of belief, and truth of opinion ; and matter of 
 service and adoration ; which is also judged and di- 
 rected by the former ; the one being as the internal 
 soul of religion, and the otlier as the external body 
 thereof. And therefore the heathen religion was not 
 only a worship of idols, but the whole religion was an 
 idol in itself, for it had no soul ; that is, no certainty 
 of belief or confession ; as a man may well think, con- 
 siderine' tlic chief doctors of their church were the 
 poets : and the reason was, because the heathen gods 
 were no jealous gods, but were glad to be admitted 
 into part, as they had reason. Neither did they re- 
 spect the purcncss of heart, so they might have ex- 
 ternal honour and rites. 
 
 But out of thcje^twQ do. j:£sult and issue four i«a«i 
 branches of divinity ; Faith, Manners, Liturgy, and 
 Governmeiit."" Faitti cbntaiheth the doctrine of the 
 naturc^oFnoH, of the attributes of God, and of the 
 works of God. The nature of God consisteth of three 
 persons in unity of Godhead. The attributes of God 
 are either common to tlie Deity, or lespective to the 
 persons. The works of God summary are two, that of 
 the creation, and that of the redemption ; and both these 
 works, as in total they appertain to the unity of the 
 (Todhead, so in their parts they refer to the thiee per- 
 sons : that of the creation, in the mass of the matter, 
 to the Father ; in the disposition of the form, to the 
 Son ; and in the continuance and conversation of the 
 being, to the Holy Spirit ; so that of the redemption, 
 in the election and counsel, to the Father ; in the whole 
 act and consummation, to the Son ; and in the appli- 
 cation, to the Holy Spirit : for by the Holy Ghost was 
 Christ conceived in flesh, and by the Holy Ghost are 
 the elect regenerate in spirit. This work likewise we 
 consider either effectually, in the elect : or privately, in 
 the reprobate ; or according to appearance, in the vi- 
 sible Church. 
 
 For manners, the doctrine thereof is contained in the
 
 228 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 law, which disclosetli sin. The law itself is divided, 
 according to the edition thereof, into tlie law of nature, 
 the law moral, and the law positive ; and, according to 
 the stile, into negative and affirmative, prohibitions 
 and commandments. Sin, in the matter and subject 
 thereof, is divided according to the commandments ; 
 in the form thereof, it referreth to the three persons 
 in Deity, Sins of infirmity against the Father, whose 
 more special attribute is power ; sins of ignorance 
 against the Son, whose attribute is wisdom ; and sins 
 of malice against the Holy Ghost, whose attribute is 
 grace or love. In the motions of it, it either moveth 
 to the right hand or to the left, either to blind devo- 
 tion, or to profane and libertine transgression ; either 
 in imposing restraint where God granteth liberty, or 
 in taking liberty where God imposeth restraint. In 
 the degrees and progress of it, it divideth itself into 
 thought, word, or act. And in this part I commend 
 much the deducing of the law of God to cases of con- 
 science, for that I take indeed to be a breaking, and 
 not exhibiting whole of the bread of life. But that 
 which quickeneth both these doctrines of faith and 
 manners, is the elevation and consent of the heart ; 
 whereunto appertain books of exhortation, holy medi- 
 tation. Christian resolution, and the like. 
 
 For the liturgy or service, it consisteth of the reci- 
 procal acts between God and man : which, on the part 
 of God, are the preaching of the word, and the sacra- 
 ments, which are seals to the covenant, or as the visi- 
 ble word ; and on the part of man, invocation of the 
 name of God ; and, under the law, sacrifices ; which 
 were as visible prayers or confessions ; but now the 
 adoration being iji .spiritu et veritate, there rcmain- 
 eth only vituli labiorum, although the use of holy 
 vows of thankfulness and retribution may be accounted 
 also as sealed petitions. 
 
 And for the government of the Church, it consist- 
 eth of the patrimony of the Church, the franchises of 
 the Church, and the offices and jurisdictions of the 
 Church, and the laws of the Church directing the 
 whole ; all which have two considerations, the one in
 
 Book II.] ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 229 
 
 themselves, the other how they stand compatible and 
 agreeable to the civil estate. 
 
 This matter of divinity is handled either in form of 
 instruction of truth, or in form of confutation of fals- 
 hood. The declinations from religion, besides the pri- 
 vative, which is atheism, and the branches thereof, are 
 three ; heresies, idolatry, and witchcraft : heresies, 
 when we serve the true God with a false worship ; 
 idolatry, when we worship false gods, supposing them 
 to be true ; and witchcraft, when we adore false gods, 
 knowing them to be wicked and false. For so your 
 majesty doth excellently well observe, that witchcraft 
 is the height of idolatry. And yet we see though 
 these be true degrees, Samuel teach eth us that they 
 are all of a nature, when there is once a receding from 
 the word of God ; for so he saith, " Quasi peccatum 
 ariolandi est repugnare, et quasi scelus idololatrise nolle 
 acquiescere." 
 
 These things I have passed over so briefly, because 
 I can report no deficience concerning them : for I can 
 find no space or ground that lietli vacant and unsown 
 in the matter of divinity ; so diligent have been men, 
 either in sowing of good seed, or in sowing of tares. 
 
 Thus have I made, as it were, a small globe of the 
 intellectual world, as truly and faithfully as I could 
 discover, with a note and description of those parts 
 which seem to me not constantly occupate, or not well 
 converted by the labour of man. In which, if I have 
 in any point receded from that which is commonly 
 received, it hath been with a purpose of proceeding 
 ill niclius, and not in aliud : a mind of amendment 
 and proficience, and notof cliangeand difference For 
 I could not be true and constant to the argument I 
 handle, if I were not willing to go beyond others, but 
 yet not more willing than to have others go beyond 
 me again ; which may the better appear by this, that 
 I have propounded my opinions naked and unarmed, 
 not seeking to preoccupate the liberty of mens judg- 
 ments by confutations. Fo r in any tilin g which is well 
 set down, I am in good hope, that if tHe first reading 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 230 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Book II. 
 
 move an objection, the second reading will make an 
 answer. And in those things wherein I have erred, 
 I am sure, I have not prejudiced the right by litigious 
 arguments, which certainly have this contrary effect 
 and operation, that they add authority to error, and 
 destroy the authority of that which is well invented. 
 For question is an honour and preferment to falshood, 
 as on the other side it is a repulse to truth. But the 
 errors I claim and challenge to myself as my own. 
 The good, if any be, is due tanquam adeps sacrificii, 
 to be incensed to the honour first of the Divine Ma- 
 jesty, and next of your majesty, to whom on earth I 
 am most bounden.
 
 MAGNALIA NATURE, 
 
 PRiECIPUE QUOAD USUS HUMANOS. 
 
 The prolongation of life : the restitution of youth 
 in some degree ; the retardation of age : the curing 
 of diseases counted incurable : the mitigation of pain : 
 more easy and less loathsome purgings : the increas- 
 ing of strength and activity : the increasing of ability 
 to suffer torture or pain : the altering of complexions, 
 and fatness and leanness : the altering of statures : the 
 altering of features : the increasing and exalting of 
 the intellectual parts : versions of bodies into other 
 bodies : making of new species : transplanting of 
 one species into another : instruments of destruction, 
 as of war and poison : exhilaration of the spirits, and 
 putting them in good disposition : force of the ima- 
 gination, either upon another body, or upon the body 
 itself: acceleration of time in maturations : accelera- 
 tion of time in clarifications : acceleration of putre- 
 faction : acceleration of decoction ; acceleration of 
 germination : making rich composts for the earth : 
 impressions of the air, and raising of tempests : great 
 alteration ; as in induration, emollition, etc. turning 
 crude and watery substances into oily and unctuous 
 substances : drawing of new foods out of substances 
 not now in use : making new threads for apparel ; and 
 new stuffs, such as are paper, glass, etc. : natural divi- 
 nations : deceptions of the senses : greater pleasures 
 of the senses : artificial minerals and cements. 
 
 q2
 
 SYLVA SYLVARUM . 
 
 OR, 
 
 A NATURAL HISTORY. 
 
 TEN CENTURIES.
 
 THE READER. 
 
 Having had the honour to be continually with my 
 lord in compiling of this work, and to be employed 
 therein, I have thought it not amiss, with his lord- 
 ship's good leave and liking, for the better satisfac- 
 tion of those that shall read it, to make known 
 somewhat of his lordship's intentions touching the 
 ordering, and publishing of the same. I have heard 
 his lordship often say, that if he should have served 
 the glory of his own name, he had been better not to 
 have published this Natural History: for it may 
 seem an undigested heap of particulars, and cannot 
 have that lustre, which books cast into methods have; 
 but that he resolved to prefer the good of men, and 
 that which might best secure it, before any thing 
 that might have relation to himself. And he knew 
 well, that there was no other way open to unloose 
 mens minds, being bound, and, as it were, maleficiate, 
 by the charms of deceiving notions and theories, and 
 thereby made impotent for generation of works, but 
 only no where to depart from the sense, and clear 
 experience, but to keep close to it, especially in the 
 beginning ; besides, this Natural History was a debt 
 of his, being designed and set down for a third part 
 of the " Instauration." I have also heard his lord- 
 ship discourse, that men, no doubt, will think many
 
 236 TO THE READER. 
 
 of the experiments, contained in this collection, to be 
 vulgar and trivial, mean and sordid, curious, and 
 fruitless, and therefore he wisheth that they vv^ould 
 have perpetually before their eyes what is now in 
 doing, and the difference between this Natural His- 
 tory and others. For those Natural Histories which 
 are extant, being gathered for delight and use, are 
 full of pleasant descriptions and pictures, and affect 
 and seek after admiration, rarities, and secrets. 
 But, contrariwise, the scope which his lordship in- 
 tendeth, is to write such a Natural History as may 
 be fundamental to the erecting and building of a 
 true philosophy, for the illumination of the un- 
 derstanding, the extracting of axioms, and the pro- 
 ducing of many noble works and effects. For he 
 hopeth by this means to acquit himself of that for 
 which he taketh himself in a sort bound, and that 
 is, the advancement of all learning and sciences. 
 For, having in this present work collected the ma- 
 terials for the building, and in his " Novum Organum," 
 of which his lordship is yet to publish a second part, 
 set down the instruments and directions for the 
 work ; men shall now be wanting to themselves, if 
 they raise not knowledge to that perfection whereof 
 the nature of mortal men is capable. And in this 
 behalf, I have heard his lordship speak complain- 
 jngly, that his lordship, who thinketh he deserveth 
 to be an architect in tliis building, should be forced 
 to be a workman, and a labourer, and to dig the 
 clay, and burn the brick ; and, more than that, ac- 
 cording to the hard condition of the Israelites at 
 the latter end, to gather the straw and stubble, over 
 »U the tields, to burn the bricks withal. For he
 
 TO THE READER. 237 
 
 knoweth, that except he do it, nothing will be done : 
 men are so set to despise the means of their own 
 good. And as for the baseness of many of the expe- 
 riments ; as long as they be God's works, they are ho- 
 nourable enough. And for the vulgarness of them, true 
 axioms must be drawn from plain experience and not 
 from doubtful; and his lordship's course is to make won- 
 ders plain, and not plain thing wonders ; and that ex- 
 perience likewise must be broken and grinded, and not 
 whole, or as it groweth. And for use; his lordship hath 
 often in his mouth the two kinds of experiments ; 
 cxperimenta fnictifera, and cjcperimenta lucifera : 
 experiments of use, and experiments of light : and he 
 reporteth himself, whether he were not a strange man, 
 that should think that light hath no use, because it 
 hath no matter. Further his lordship thought good 
 also to add unto many of the experiments themselves 
 some gloss of the causes ; that in the succeeding work 
 of interpreting nature, and framing axioms, all things 
 may be in more readiness. And for the causes herein 
 by him assigned ; his lordship persuadeth himself, 
 they are far more certain than those that are rendered 
 by others ; not for any excellency of his own wit, as his 
 lordship is wont to say, but in respect of his continual 
 conversation with nature and experience. He did 
 consider likewise, that by this addition of causes, mens 
 minds, which make so much haste to find out the 
 causes of things, would not think themselves utterly 
 lost in a vast wood of experience, but stay upon these 
 causes, such as they are, a little, tiU true axioms may 
 be more fully discovered. I have heard his lordship 
 say also, that one great reason, why he would not put 
 these particulars into any exact method, though lie
 
 ^38 TO THE READER. 
 
 that looketh attentively into them shall find that they 
 have a secret order, was, because he conceived that 
 other men would now think that they could do the 
 like ; and so go on with a further collection : which, 
 if the method had been exact, many would have 
 despaired to attain by imitation. As for his lordship's 
 love of order, I can refer any man to his lordship's 
 Latin Book, " De Augmentis Scientiarum ; " which, if 
 my judgment be any thing, is written in the exactest 
 order that I know any writing to be. I will conclude 
 with an usual speech of his lordship's : That this work 
 of his Natural History is the World as God made it, 
 and not as men have made it ; for that it hath no- 
 thing of imagination. 
 
 W. RAWLEY. 
 
 This epistle is the same, that should have been prefixed to 
 this book, if his lordship had lived.
 
 NATURAL HISTORY. 
 
 CENTURY I. 
 
 Expeiime7its in consort, touching the straining and passing of 
 bodies one through another; which they call Percolation. 
 
 Dig a pit upon the sea-shore, somewhat above the 
 high water-mark, and sink it as deep as the low-water 
 mark ; and as the tide cometli in, it will fill with water, 
 fresh and potable. This is commonlypractised upon the 
 coast of Barbary, where other fresh water is wanting. 
 And Caasar knew this well when he was besieged in 
 Alexandria ; for by digging of pits in the sea-shore, 
 he did frustrate the laborious works of the enemies, 
 which had turned the sea-water upon the wells of 
 Alexandria ; and so saved his army being then in 
 desperation. But Caesar mistook the cause, for he 
 thought that all sea-sands had natural springs of fresh 
 water : but it is plain, that it is the sea-water : be- 
 cause the pit fiUeth according to the measure of the 
 tide ; and the sea-water passing or straining through 
 the sands, Icaveth the saltness. 
 
 2. I remember to have read, that trial hath been 
 made of salt-water passed through earth, through ten 
 vessels, one within another ; and yet it hath not lost 
 its saltness, as to become potable : but the same man 
 saith,that, by the relation of another, salt-water drained 
 through twenty vessels hath become fresh. This ex- 
 periment seemeth to cross that other of pits made by 
 the sea-side ; and yet but in part, if it be true that 
 twenty repetitions do the effect. But it is worth the 
 note, how poor the imitations of nature are in common 
 course of experiments, except they be led by great 
 judgment, and some good light of axioms. For first, 
 there is no small difference between a jnissage of water
 
 24)0 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 through twenty small vessels, and through such a dis- 
 tance, as between the low- water and high- water mark. 
 Secondly, there is a great difference between earth and 
 sand ; for all earth hath in it a kind of nitrous salt, 
 from which sand is more free ; and besides, earth doth 
 not strain the water so finely as sand doth. But there 
 is a third point, that I suspect as much or more than 
 the other two ; and that is, that in the experiment of 
 transmission of the sea- water into the pits, the water 
 riseth ; but in the experiment of transmission of the 
 water through the vessels, it falleth. Now certain it 
 is that the Salter part of water, once salted through- 
 out, goeth to the bottom. And therefore no marvel, 
 if the draining of water by descent doth not make it 
 fresh : besides, I do somewhat doubt, that the very 
 dashing of the water, that cometh from the sea, is 
 more proper to strike off the salt part, than where the 
 water slideth of its own motion. 
 
 3. It seemeth percolation, or transmission, which 
 is commonly called straining, is a good kind of sepa- 
 ration, not only of thick fi-om thin, and gross from fine^ 
 but of more subtile natures ; and varieth according to 
 the body through which the transmission is made : as 
 if through a woollen bag, the liquor leaveth the fat- 
 ness ; if through sand, the saltness, etc. They speak 
 of severing wine from water, passing it through ivy 
 wood, or through other the like porous body ; but von 
 constat. 
 
 4. The gum of trees, which wc see to be commonly 
 shining and clear, is but a fine passage or straining of 
 the juice of the tree through the wood and bark. And 
 in like manner, Cornish diamonds, and rock rubies, 
 which are yet more resplendent than gums, are the 
 fine exudations of stone. 
 
 5. Aristotle giveth the cause, vainly, why the 
 feathers of birds are of moie lively colours than the 
 hairs of beasts ; for no beast hath any fine azure, or 
 carnation, or green hair. He saitli, it is because birds 
 arc more in the beams of the sun than beasts ; but 
 that is manifestly untrue ; for cattle are more in the 
 sun tlian birds, that live commonly in the woods, or in
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAi; HISTORY. 241 
 
 some covert. Tlie true cause is, that tlie excremen- 
 titious moisture of living creatures, which maketh as 
 well the feathers in birds, as the hair in beasts, passeth 
 in birds through a finer and more delicate strainer 
 than it doth in beasts : for feathers pass through quills ; 
 and hair through skin. 
 
 6. The clarifying of liquors by adhesion, is an in- 
 ward percolation ; and is effected, when some cleaving 
 body is mixed and agitated with the liquors ; whereby 
 the grosser part of the liquor sticks to that cleaving 
 body; and so the finer parts are freed from the grosser. 
 So the apothecaries clarify their syrups by whites of 
 eggs, beaten with the juices which they would clarify; 
 which whites of eggs gather all the dregs and grosser 
 parts of the juice to them ; and after the syrup being 
 set on the fire, the whites of eggs themselves harden, 
 and are taken forth. So hippocras is clarified by 
 mixing with milk, and stirring it about, and then pass- 
 ing it through a woollen bag, which they call Hippo- 
 crates's Sleeve, and the cleaving nature of the milk 
 draweth the powder of the spices, and grosser parts of 
 the liquor to it ; and in the passage they stick upon 
 the woollen bag. 
 
 7. The clarifying of water is an experiment tending 
 to health ; besides the pleasure of the eye, when water 
 is crystalline. It is effected by casting in and placing 
 pebbles at the head of the current, that the water 
 may strain through them. 
 
 8. It may be, percolation doth not only cause clear- 
 ness and splendour, but sweetness of savour ; for that 
 also foUoweth as well as clearness, when the finer parts 
 are severed from the grosser. So it is found, that the 
 sweats of men, that have much heat, and exercise much, 
 and have clean bodies, and fine skins, do smell sweet; 
 as was said of Alexander ; and we see commonly that 
 gums have sweet odours. 
 
 Experimenis in consort, touching motion of bodies upon their 
 pressure. 
 
 9. Take a glass, and put water into it, and wet your 
 finger, and draw it round about the lip of the glass.
 
 242 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 pressing it somewhat hard ; and after you have drawn 
 it some few times about, it will make the water frisk 
 and sprinkle up in a fine dew. This instance doth 
 excellently demonstrate the force of compression in a 
 soHd body : for whensoever a soHd body, as wood, 
 stone, metal, etc. is pressed, there is an inward tumult 
 in the parts thereof seeking to deliver themselves from 
 the compression : and this is the cause of all violent 
 motion. Wherein it is strange, in the highest degree, 
 that this motionhath never been observed, nor inquired; 
 it being of all motions the most common, and the 
 chief root of all mechanical operations. This motion 
 worketh in round at first, by way of proof and search 
 which way to dehver itself; and then worketh in pro- 
 gress, where it findeth the deliverance easiest. In 
 liquors this motion is visible ; for all liquors strucken 
 make round circles, and withal dash ; but in solids, 
 which break not, it is so subtile, as it is invisible ; but 
 nevertheless bewrayeth itself by many effects ; as in 
 this instance whereof we speak. For the pressure of 
 the finger, furthered by the wetting, because it stick- 
 eth so much the better unto the lip of the glass, after 
 some continuance, putteth all the small parts of the 
 glass into work ; that they strike the water sharply ; 
 from which percussion that sprinkling cometh. 
 
 10. If you strike or pierce a solid body that is brit- 
 tle, as glass, or sugar, it breaketh not only where the 
 immediate force is ; but breaketh all about into shivers 
 and fitters ; the motion, upon the pressure, searching 
 all ways, and breaking where it findeth the body weakest. 
 
 11. The powder in shot, being dilated into such a 
 flame as endureth not compression, moveth likewise in 
 round, the fiamc being in the nature of a liquid body, 
 sometimes recoiling, sometimes breaking the piece, but 
 generally discharging the bullet, because there it find- 
 eth easiest deliverance. 
 
 12. This motion upon pressure, and the reciprocal 
 thereof, whicli is motion upon tcnsure, we use to call, 
 by one common name, motion of liberty ; which is, when 
 any body, being forced to a preternatural extent or di- 
 mension, dclivereth and rcstoreth itself to the natural:
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HISTORY. 24S 
 
 as when a blown bladder, pressed, riseth again ; or 
 when leather or cloth tentured, spring back. These 
 two motions, of which there be infinite instances, we 
 shall handle in due place. 
 
 13. This motion upon pressure is excellently also 
 demonstrated in sounds ; as when one chimeth upon a 
 bell, it soundeth ; but as soon as he layeth his hand 
 upon it, the sound ceaseth ; and so the sound of a vir- 
 ginal string, as soon as the quill of the jack falleth from 
 it, stoppeth. For these sounds are produced by the 
 subtile percussion of the minute parts of the bell, or 
 string, upon the air ; all one, as the water is caused 
 to leap by the subtile percussion of the minute parts 
 of the glass upon the w^ater, whereof we spake a lit- 
 tle before in the ninth experiment. For you must 
 not take it to be the local shaking of the bell, or string, 
 that doth it : as we shall fully declare, when we come 
 hereafter to handle sounds. 
 
 Experiments in consort, touching separations of bodies by 
 
 weight. 
 
 14. Take a glass with a belly and a long neb; fill 
 the belly, in part, with water : take also another glass, 
 whereinto put claret wine and water mingled ; reverse 
 the first glass, with the belly upwards, stopping the neb 
 with your finger ; then dip the mouth of it within the 
 second glass, and remove your finger : continue it in 
 that posture for a time ; and it will unmingle the wine 
 from the water : the wine ascending and settling in 
 the top of the upper glass ; and the water descending 
 and settling in the bottom of the lower glass. The 
 passage is apparent to the eye ; for you shall see the 
 wine, as it were, in a small vein, rising through the 
 water. For handsomeness sake, because the working 
 requireth some small time, it were good you hang the 
 upper glass upon a nail. But as soon as there is 
 gathered so much pure and unmixed water in the bot- 
 tom of the lower glass, as that the mouth of the upper 
 glass dippeth into it, the motion ceaseth. 
 
 15. Let the upper glass be wine, and the lower 
 water; there followeth no motion at all. Let the upper
 
 244 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 glass be water pure, the lower water coloured, or con- 
 trariwise, there foUoweth no motion at all. But it 
 hath been tried, that though the mixture of wine and 
 water, in the lower glass, be three parts water and but 
 one wine, yet it doth not dead the motion. This sepa- 
 ration of water and wine appeareth to be made by 
 weight ; for it must be of bodies of unequal weight, or 
 else it worketh not ; and the heavier body must ever 
 be in the upper glass. But then note withal, that the 
 water being made pensile, and there being a great 
 weight of water in the belly of the glass, sustained by 
 a small pillar of water in the neck of the glass, it is 
 that which setteth the motion on work : for water and 
 wine in one glass, with long standing, will hardly sever. 
 
 16. This experiment would be extended from mix- 
 tures of several liquors, to simple bodies which consist 
 of several similar parts : try it therefore with brine or 
 salt-water, and fresh-water ; placing the salt-water, 
 which is the heavier, in the upper-glass ; and see whe- 
 ther the fresh will come above. Try it also with water 
 thick sugared, and pure water ; and see whether tlie 
 water, which cometh above, will lose its sweetness : for 
 which purpose it were good there were a little cock 
 made in the belly of the upper glass. 
 
 Experiments in consort, touching judicious and accurate 
 infusions, both in liquors and air. 
 
 17. In bodies containing fine spirits, which do easily 
 dissipate, when you make infusions, the rule is ; a short 
 stay of the body in the liquor, receiveth the spirit; and 
 a longer stay confoundeth it ; because it draweth forth 
 the earthly part withal, which embaseth the finer. And 
 therefore it is an error in physicians, to rest simply 
 upon the length of stay for increasing the virtue. But 
 if you will have the infusion strong, in those kinds of 
 bodies which have fine spirits, your way is not to give 
 longer time, but to repeat the infusion of the body 
 oftener. Take violets, and infuse a good pugil of them 
 in a quart of vinegar ; let tliem stay three quarters of 
 an hour, and take them forth, and refresh the infusion 
 with like quantity of new violets, seven times ; and it
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HISTORY. 245 
 
 will make a vinegar so fresh of the flower, as if, a twelve- 
 month after, it be brought you in a saucer, you shall 
 smell it before it come at you. Note, that it smelleth 
 more perfectly of the flower a good while after than 
 at first. 
 
 18. This rule, which we have given, is of singular 
 use for the preparations of medicines, and other infu- 
 sions. As for example : the leaf of burrage hath an 
 excellent spirit to repress the fuliginous vapour of 
 dusky melancholy, and so to cure madness : but never- 
 theless, if the leaf be infused long, it yieldeth forth but 
 a raw substance, of no virtue ; therefore I suppose, 
 that if in the must of wine, or wort of beer, while it 
 worketh, before it be tunned, the burrage stay a small 
 time, and be often changed with fresh ; it will make 
 a sovereign drink for melancholy passions. And the 
 like I conceive of orange flowers. 
 
 19. llhubarb hath manifestly in it parts of con- 
 trary operations : parts that purge ; and parts that 
 bind the body : and the first lie looser, and the latter 
 lie deeper : so that if you infuse rhubarb for an hour, 
 and crush it well, it will purge better, and bind the 
 body less after the purging, than if it had stood twenty- 
 four hours ; this is tried : but I conceive likewise, that 
 by repeating the infusion of rhubarb, several times, as 
 was said of violets, letting each stay in but a small 
 time ; you may make it as strong a purging medicine 
 as scaramony. And it is not a small thing won in 
 physic, if you can make rhubarb, and other medicines 
 that are benedict, as strong purgers as those that are 
 not without some malignity. 
 
 20. Pm-ging medicines, for the most part, have 
 their purgative virtue in a fine spirit ; as appeareth 
 by that they endure not boiling without much loss of 
 virtue. And therefore it is of good use in physic, if 
 you can retain the purging virtue, and take away the 
 unpleasant taste of the purger ; which it is like you 
 may do, by this course of infusing oft, with little stay. 
 For it is probable that the horrible and odious taste is 
 in the grosser part. 
 
 21. Generally, the working by infusion.*: is gro.s.s 
 
 TOL. I. K
 
 246 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 and blind, except you first try the issuing of the seve- 
 ral parts of the body, which of them issue more speedi- 
 ly, and which more slowly ; and so by apportioning the 
 time, can take and leave that quality which you de- 
 sire. This to know there are two ways ; the one to 
 try what long stay, and what short stay worketh, as 
 hath been said ; the other to try in order the succeed- 
 ing infusions of one and the same body, successively, 
 in several liquors. As for example ; take orange pills, 
 or rosemary, or cinnamon, or what you will ; and let 
 them infuse half an hour in water : then take them 
 out, and infuse them again in other water ; and so the 
 third time : and then taste and consider the first wa- 
 ter, the second, and the third ; and you will find them 
 differing, not only in strength and weakness, but other- 
 wise in taste or odour ; for it may be the first water 
 will have more of the scent, as more fragrant; and the 
 second more of the taste, as more bitter or biting, etc. 
 
 22. Infusions in air, for so we may well call 
 odours, have the same diversities wdth infusions in wa- 
 ter ; in that the several odours, which are in one flower, 
 or other body, issue at several times ; some earlier, 
 some later : so we find that violets, woodbines, straw- 
 berries, yield a pleasing scent, that cometh forth first ; 
 but soon after an ill scent quite differing from the 
 former. AVliich is caused, not so much by mellowing, 
 as by the late issuing of the grosser spirit. 
 
 23. As we may desire to extract the finest spirits 
 in some cases ; so we may desire also to discharge them, 
 as hurtfid, in some other. So wine burnt, by reason 
 of the evaporating of the finer spirit, inflameth less, 
 and is best in agues : opium looseth some of its poi- 
 sonous quality, if it be vapoured out, mingled with 
 spirit of wine, or the like : sena loseth somewhat of its 
 windiness by decocting; and, generally, subtile or 
 windy spirits are taken off by incension,or evaporation. 
 And even in infusions in things that are of too high a 
 spirit, you were better pour off the first infusion, after 
 a small time, and use the latter.
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HISTORY. 247 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the appetite of coiitinuatioii 
 in licjuids. 
 
 24. Bubbles arc in the form of an hemisphere ; air 
 within, and a little skin of water without : and it 
 seemeth somewhat strange, that the air should rise so 
 swiftly while it is in the water ; and when it cometh 
 to the top, should be stayed by so weak a cover as that 
 of the bubble is. But as for the swift ascent of the 
 air, while it is under the water, that is a motion of 
 percussion from the water ; which itself descending 
 driveth up the air ; and no motion of levity in the air. 
 And this Democritus called mot us plag(E. In this 
 common experiment, the cause of the inclosure of the 
 bubble is, for that the appetite to resist separation, 
 or discontinuance, which in solid bodies is strong, is 
 also in liquors, though fainter and weaker ; as we see in 
 this of the bubble : we see it also in little glasses of 
 spittle that children make of rushes ; and in castles of 
 bubbles, which they make by blowing into water, hav- 
 ing obtained a little degree of tenacity by mixture of 
 soap : wc see it also in the stillicidcs of water, which, 
 if there be water enough to follow, will draw them- 
 selves into a small thread, because they will not dis- 
 continue ; but if there be no remedy, then they cast 
 themselves into round drops ; which is the figure that 
 savetli the body most from discontinuance : the same 
 reason is of the roundness of the bubble, as well for 
 the skin of water, as for the air within : for the air 
 likewise avoideth discontinuance; and therefore casteth 
 itself into a round figure. And for the stop and arrest 
 of the air a little while, it shcweth that the air of itself 
 hath little or no appetite of ascending. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the making of artificial springs. 
 
 25. The rejection, which I continually use, of ex- 
 periments, though it appeavcth not, is infinite ; but 
 yet if an experiment be probable in the work, and of 
 great use, 1 receive it, but deliver it as doubtfid. It 
 was reported by a sober man, that an artificial spring 
 may be made thus : Find out a hanging ground, where 
 there is a good quick fall of rain-water. Lay a half- 
 
 R 2
 
 248 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 trough of stone, of a good length, three or four foot 
 deep within the same ground ; with one end upon the 
 high ground, the other upon the low. Cover the trough 
 with brakes a good thickness, and cast sand upon the 
 top of the brakes : you shall see, saith he, that after 
 some showers are past, the lower end of the trough 
 will run like a spring of water : which is no marvel, 
 if it hold while the rain-water lasteth ; but he said it 
 would continue long time after the rain is past : as if 
 the water did multiply itself upon the air, by the help 
 of the coldness and condensation of the earth, and the 
 consort of the first water. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the venomous quality of 
 man's Jlesh. 
 
 26. The French, which put off the name of the 
 French disease unto the name of the disease of Naples, 
 do report, that at the siege of Naples, there were cer- 
 tain wicked merchants that barrelled up man's flesh, 
 of some that had been lately slain in Barbary, and 
 sold it for tunny ; and that upon that foul and high 
 nourishment was the original of that disease. Which 
 may well be; for that it is certain that the cannibals in 
 the West Indies eat man's flesh ; and the West Indies 
 were full of the pox when they were first discovered : 
 and at this day the mortalest poisons, practised by the 
 West Indians, have some mixture of the blood, or fat, 
 or flesh of man : and divers witches and sorceresses, 
 as well amongst the heathen as amongst the Chris- 
 tians, have fed upon man's flesh, to aid, as it seemeth, 
 their imagination, with high and foul vapours. 
 
 Experiment solitary touchi?ig the version and transmuta- 
 tion of air into water. 
 
 27- It seemeth that there be these ways, in likeli- 
 hood, of version of vapours or air, into water and mois- 
 ture. The first is cold ; whicli doth manifestly con- 
 dense ; as we see in the contracting of the air in the 
 weather-glass ; whereby it is a degree nearer to water. 
 We see it also in the generation of springs, which the 
 ancients thought, very probably, to be made by the 
 version of air into water, holpen by the rest, which the
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HLSTOUY 1249 
 
 air hath in those parts ; whereby it cannot dissipate. 
 And by the coldness of rocks ; for there springs are 
 chiefly generated. We see it also in the effects of the 
 cold of the middle region, as they call it, of the air ; 
 which produccth dews and rains. And the experi- 
 ment of turning water into ice, by snow, nitre, and 
 salt, whereof we shall speak hereafter, would be trans- 
 ferred to the turning of air into water. The second 
 way is by compression ; as in stillatories, where the 
 vapour is turned back upon itself, by the encounter of 
 the sides of the stillatory ; and in the dew upon the 
 covers of boiling pots ; and in the dew towards rain, 
 upon marble and wainscot. ]5ut this is like to do no 
 great effect ; except it be upon vapours, and gross air, 
 that are already very near in degree to water. The 
 third is that, which may be searched into, but doth 
 not yet appear ; which is, by mingling of moist va- 
 pours with air ; and trying if they will not bring a 
 return of more water, than the water was at first : for 
 if so, that increase is a version of the air : therefore 
 put water into the bottom of a stillatory, with the neb 
 stopped ; weigh the water first ; hang in the middle 
 of a stillatory a large spunge ; and see what quantity 
 of water you can crush out of it ; and what it is more, 
 or less, compared with the water spent ; for you must 
 understand, that if any version can be wrought, it will 
 be easiliest done in small pores : and that is the rea- 
 son why we prescribe a spunge. The fourth way is 
 probable also, though not appearing ; which is, by re- 
 ceiving the air into the small pores of bodies : for, as 
 hath been said, every thing in small quantity is more 
 easy for version ; and tangible bodies have no pleasure 
 in the consort of air, but endeavour to subact it into a 
 more dense body ; but in entire bodies it is checked ; 
 because if the air should condense, there is nothing to 
 succeed : therefore it must be in loose bodies, as sand, 
 and powder ; which, we see, if they lie close, of them- 
 selves gather moisture.
 
 250 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching helps towards tlie beauty 
 and good features of persons. 
 
 28. It is reported by some of the ancients ; that 
 whelps, or other creatures, if they be put young into 
 such a cage or box, as they cannot rise to their stature, 
 but may increase in breadth or length, will grow ac- 
 cordingly as they can get room : which if it be true 
 and feasible, and that the young creature so pressed 
 and straitened, doth not thereupon die ; it is a means 
 to produce dwarf creatures, and in a very strange 
 figure. This is certain, and noted long since, that 
 the pressure or forming of parts of creatures, when 
 they are very young, doth alter the sliape not a little; 
 as the stroking of the lieads of infants, between the 
 hands, was noted of old, to make Macrucephali ; which 
 shape of the head, at that time, was esteemed. And the 
 raising gently of the bridge of the nose, doth prevent 
 the deformity of a saddle nose. Which observation 
 well weighed, may teach a means to make the persons 
 of men and women, in many kinds, more comely and 
 better featured than otherwise they would be ; by the 
 forming and shaping of them in their infancy ; as by 
 stroking up the calves of the legs, to keep them from 
 falling down too low ; and by stroking up the forehead, 
 to keep them from being low-foreheaded. And it is a 
 common practice to swathe infants, that they may grow 
 more straight and better shaped : and we see young 
 women, by wearing strait bodice, keep themselves from 
 being gross and corpulent. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the condensing of air in such 
 sort as it may put on iveight, and yield nourishment. 
 
 29- Onions, as they hang, will many of them shoot 
 forth ; and so will penny-royal ; and so will an herb 
 called orjiin ; with which they use in the country to 
 trim their houses, binding it to a lath or stick, and 
 setting it against the wall. We see it likewise, more 
 especially, in tlie greater scmper-vive, which will put 
 out branches two or tln*ec years : but it is true, that 
 commonly they wrap the root in a cloth besmeared 
 with oil, and renew it once in half a year. The like
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HISTORY. 251 
 
 is reported by some of the ancients, of the stalks of 
 lilies. The cause is ; for that these plants have a 
 strong, dense, and succulent moisture, which is not apt 
 to exhale ; and so is able, from the old store, without 
 drawing help from the earth, to suffice the sprouting 
 of the plant : and this sprouting is chiefly in the late 
 spring, or early summer; which are the times of put- 
 ting forth. We see also, that stumps of trees, lying out 
 of the ground, will put forth sprouts for a time. But it 
 is a noble trial, and of very great consequence, to try 
 whether these things, in the sprouting, do increase 
 weight ; which must be tried, by weighing them before 
 they are hanged up ; and afterwards again, when they 
 are sprouted. For if they increase not in weight, then 
 it is no more but this ; that what they send forth in the 
 sjirout, they lose in some other part : but if they ga- 
 ther weight, then it is magnate naturcE ; for it sheweth 
 that air may be made so to be condensed, as to be con- 
 verted into a dense body ; whereas the race and period 
 of all things, here above the earth, is to extenuate and 
 turn things to be more pneumatical and rare ; and not 
 to be retrograde, from pneumatical to that which is 
 dense. It sheweth also that air can nourish ; which 
 is another great matter of consequence. Note, that 
 to try this, the experiment' of the semper-vive must be 
 made without oiling the cloth ; for else, it may be, 
 the plant receiveth nourishment from the oil. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the commixture of flame and 
 air, and the great force thereof. 
 
 30. Flame and air do not mingle, except it be in 
 an instant ; or in the vital spirit of vegetables and 
 living creatures. In gun-powder, the force of it hath 
 been ascribed to rarefaction of the earthy substance 
 into flame ; and thus for it is true : and then, forsooth, 
 it is become another element ; the form whereof occu- 
 pieth more place ; and so, of necessity, foUow-eth a di- 
 latation : and therefore, lest two bodies should be in 
 one place, there must needs also follow an expulsion 
 of the pellet ; or blowing up of the mine. But these 
 are crude and ignorant speculations. For flame, if
 
 252 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 there were nothing else, except it were in very great 
 quantity, will be suffocate with any hard body, such 
 as a pellet is ; or the barrel of a gun ; so as the flame 
 would not expel the hard body ; but the hard body 
 would kill the flame, and not sufffer it to kindle or 
 spread. But the cause of this so potent a motion, is 
 the nitre, which we call otherwise saltpetre, which 
 having in it a notable crude and windy spirit, first by 
 the heat of the fire suddenly dilateth itself; and we 
 know that simple air, being preternaturally attenuated 
 by heat, will make itself room, and break and blow up 
 that which resisteth it ; and secondly, when the nitre 
 hath dilated itself, it bloweth abroad the flame, as an 
 inward bellows. And therefore we see that brimstone, 
 pitch, camphire, wild-fire, and divers other inflamma- 
 ble matters, though they burn cruelly, and are hard 
 to quench, yet they make no such fiery wind as gun- 
 powder doth : and on the other side, we see that 
 quick-silver, which is a most crude and watery body, 
 heated, and pent in, hath the like force with gun-powder. 
 As for living creatures, it is certain, their vital spirits are 
 a substance compounded of an airy and flamy matter ; 
 and though air and flame being free, will not well min- 
 gle ; yet bound in by a body that hath some fixing, they 
 will. For that you may best see in those two bodies, which 
 are their aliments, water and oil ; for they likewise will 
 not well mingle of themselves ; but in the bodies of 
 plants, and living creatures, they will. It is no mar- 
 vel therefore, that a small quantity of spirits, in the 
 cells of the brain, and canals of the sinews, are able 
 to move the whole body, which is of so great mass, 
 both with so great force, as in wrestling, leaping ; and 
 with so great swiftness, as in playing division ujion the 
 lute. Such is the force of these two natures, air and 
 flame, when they incorporate. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the secret nature of flame. 
 
 31. Take a small wax candle, and put it in a 
 socket of brass or iron ; then set it upright in a por- 
 ringer full of spirit of wine heated : then set both the 
 candle and spirit of wine on fire, and you shall see the
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HISTORY. 253 
 
 flame of the candle open itself, and become four or five 
 times bigger than otherwise it would have been ; and 
 appear in figiu-e globular, and not in pyramis. You 
 shall see also, that the inward flame of the candle 
 keepeth colour, and doth not wax any whit blue to- 
 wards the colour of the outward flame of the spirit of 
 wine. This is a noble instance ; wherein two things 
 are most remarkable ; the one, that one flame within 
 another quencheth not ; but is a fixed body, and con- 
 tinucth as air or water do. And therefore flame would 
 still ascend upwards in one greatness, if it were not 
 quenched on the sides : and the greater the flame is at 
 the bottom, the higher is the rise. The other, that 
 flame doth not mingle with flame, as air doth with 
 air, or water with water, but only remaineth contigu- 
 ous ; as it Cometh to pass betwixt consisting bodies. 
 It appeareth also, that the form of a pyramis in flame, 
 which we usually see, is merely by accident, and that 
 the air about, by quenching the sides of the flame, 
 crusheth it, and extenuateth it into that form ; for of 
 itself it would be round ; and therefore smoke is in the 
 figure of a pyramis reversed ; for tlie air quencheth 
 the flame and receiveth the smoke. Note also, that 
 the flame of the candle, within the flame of the spirit 
 of wine, is troubled; and doth not only open and move 
 upwards, but moveth waving, and to and fro ; as if 
 flame of its own nature, if it were not quenched, would 
 roll and turn, as well as move upwards. By all which 
 it should seem, that the celestial bodies, most of them, 
 are true fires or flames, as the Stoics held ; more fine, 
 perhaps, and rarified, than our flame is. For they are 
 all globular and determinate ; they have rotation ; and 
 they have the colour and splendor of flame : so that 
 flame above is durable, and consistent, and in its na- 
 tural place ; but witli us it is a stranger, and momen- 
 tany, and impure: like Vulcan that halted with his fall. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the differejit force of flame 
 in the midst and on the sides, 
 
 32. Take an arrow, and liold it in flame for the 
 space of ten pulses, and when it cometh forth you shall
 
 254 NATURAL HISTOllY. [cENT. I. 
 
 find those parts of the arrow which were on the outsides 
 of the flame more burned, blacked, and turned almost 
 hito a coal, whereas that in the midst of the flame will 
 be as if the fire had scarce touched it. This is an in- 
 stance of great consequence for the discovery of the 
 nature of flame ; and sheweth manifestly, that flame 
 burnetii more violently towards the sides than in the 
 midst : and, which is more, that heat or fire is not vio- 
 lent or furious, but where it is checked and pent. And 
 therefore the Peripatetics, howsoever their opinion of 
 an element of fire above the air is justly exploded, in 
 that point they acquit themselves well : for being op- 
 posed, that if there were a sphere of fire, that encom- 
 passed the earth so near hand, it were impossible but 
 all things should be burnt up ; they answer, that the 
 pure elemental fire, in its own place, and not irritated, 
 is but of a moderate heat. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the decrease of the 7iat//ral 
 motionof gravity , in great distancejrom the earth; or within 
 some depth of the earth. 
 
 SS. It is affirmed constantly by many, as an usual 
 experiment ; that a lump of ore, in the bottom of a 
 mine, will be tumbled and stirred by twomens strength ; 
 which if you bring it to the top of the earth, will ask 
 six mens strength at the least to stir it. It is a noble 
 instance, and is fit to be tried to the full ; for it is very 
 probable, that the motion of gravity worketh weakly, 
 both far from the earth, and also within the earth : 
 the former, because the appetite of imion of dense 
 bodies with the earth, in respect of the distance, is more 
 dull : the latter, because the body hath in part attained 
 its nature when it is some depth in the eartli. For as 
 for the moving to a point or place, which was the opi- 
 nion of the ancients, it is a mere vanity. 
 
 Experiment solitaiy touching the contraction of bodies in bnlk^ 
 by the mixture of tJie more liquid body ivith the more solid. 
 
 34. It is strange how the ancients took up experi- 
 ments upon credit, and yet did build great matters 
 upon them. The o])scrvation of some of the l)est of
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HISTORY. 
 
 them, delivered confidently, is, that a vessel filled with 
 ashes will receive the like quantity of water, that it 
 would have done if it had been empty. But this is 
 utterly untrue, for the water will not go in by a fifth 
 part. And I suppose, that that fifth part is the difference 
 of the lying close, or open, of the ashes ; as we see that 
 ashes alone, if they be hard pressed, will lie in less 
 room : and so the ashes with air between, lie looser ; 
 and with water, closer. For I have not yet found 
 certainly, that the water itself, by mixture of ashes or 
 dust, will shrink or draw into less room. 
 
 Experiment solitary toncldiig the making viJies more fruitful. 
 
 35. It is reported of credit, that if you lay good 
 store of kernels of grapes about the root of a vine, it 
 will make the vine come earlier and prosper better. 
 It may be tried with other kernels laid about the root 
 of a plant of the same kind ; as figs, kernels of apples, 
 etc. The cause may be, for that the kernels draw out 
 of the earth juice fit to nourish the tree, as those that 
 would be trees of themselves, though there were no 
 root ; but the root being of greater strength robbeth 
 and devoureth the nourishment, when they have drawn 
 it ; as great fishes devour little. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching purging medicines. 
 
 36. The operation of purging medicines, and the 
 causes thereof, have been thought to be a great secret; 
 and so, according to the slothful manner of men, it is 
 referred to a hidden propriety, a specifical virtue, and 
 a fourth quality, and the like shifts of ignorance. 
 The causes of purging are divers : all plain and per- 
 spicuous ; and throughly maintained by experience. 
 Tlic first is, that whatsoever cannot be overcome and 
 digested by the stomach, is by the stomach either put 
 up by vomit, or put down to the guts ; and by that 
 motion of expulsion in the stomach and guts, other 
 parts of the body, as the orifices of the veins, and the 
 like, are moved to expel by consent. For nothing is 
 more frequent than motion of consent in the body of 
 man. This surcharge of the stomach is caused either 
 
 0,55
 
 256 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 by the quality of the medicine, or by the quantity. 
 The qualities are three : extreme bitter, as in aloes, 
 coloquintida, etc. loathsome and of horrible taste, as in 
 agaric, black hellebore, etc. and of secret malignity, 
 and disagreement towards man's body, many times not 
 appearing much in the taste, as in scammony, mecho- 
 achan, antimony, etc. And note well, that if there be 
 any medicine that purgeth, and hath neither of the 
 first two manifest qualities, it is to be held suspected 
 as a kind of poison : for that it worketh either by cor- 
 rosion, or by a secret malignity, and enmity to nature, 
 and therefore such medicines are warily to be prepared 
 and used. The quantity of that which is taken doth 
 also cause purging ; as we see in a great quantity of 
 new milk from the cow ; yea and a great quantity of 
 meat ; for surfeits many times turn to purges, both up- 
 w^ards and downwards. Therefore we see generally, 
 that the working of purging medicines cometh two or 
 three hours after the medicines taken ; for that the 
 stomach first maketh a proof, whether it can concoct 
 them. And the like happeneth after surfeits, or milk 
 in too great quantity. 
 
 37. A second cause is mordication of the orifices of 
 the parts ; especially of the mesentery veins ; as it is 
 seen, that salt, or any such thing that is sharp and bit- 
 ing, put into the fundament, doth provoke the part to 
 expel ; and mustard provoketh sneezing: and any sharp 
 thing to the eyes provoketh tears. And therefore we 
 see that almost all purgers have a kind of twitching 
 and vellication, besides the griping which cometh of 
 wind. And if this mordication be in an over-high de- 
 gree, it is little better than the corrosion of poison ; as 
 it cometh to pass sometimes in antimony, esi^ecially if 
 it be given to bodies not replete with humours ; for 
 where humours abound, the humours save the parts. 
 
 38. The third cause is attraction : for I do not 
 deny, but that purging medicines have in them a di- 
 rect force of attraction ; as drawing plaisters have in 
 surgery : and we see sage or betony bruised, sneezing 
 powder, and other powders, or liquor, which the pliy- 
 sicians call trrhm€i>, put into the nose, draw phlegm
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HISTORY. 257 
 
 and water from the head ; and so it is in apophlegma- 
 tisms and gargarisms that draw the rheum down by the 
 palate. And by this virtue, no doubt, some purgers 
 draw more one humour, and some another, according to 
 the opinion received : as rhubarb draweth choler ; sena 
 melancholy ; agaric phlegm, etc. but yet, more or less, 
 they draw promiscuously. And note also, that besides 
 sympathy between the purger and the humour, there 
 is also another cause, why some medicines draw some 
 humour more than another. And it is, for that some 
 medicines work quicker than others : they that draw 
 quick, draw only the lighter and more fluid humours; 
 and they that draw slow, work upon the more tough 
 and viscous humours. And therefore men must be- 
 ware how they take rhubarb, and the like, alone fami- 
 liarly ; for it taketh only the lightest part of the hu- 
 mour away, and leaveth the mass of humours more 
 obstinate. And the like may be said of wormwood, 
 which is so much magnified. 
 
 39- The fourth cause is flatuosity ; for wind stirred 
 moveth to expel: and we find that, in cflfect, all purgers 
 have in them a raw spirit or wind ; which is the prin- 
 cipal cause of tortion in the stomach and belly. And 
 therefore purgers lose, most of them, the virtue, by 
 decoction upon the fire ; and for that cause are given 
 chiefly in infusion, juice, or powder. 
 
 40. The fifth cause is compression or crushing: as 
 when water is crushed out of a spunge : so we see that 
 taking cold moveth looseness by contraction of the 
 skin and outward parts ; and so doth cold likewise 
 cause rheums, and defluxions from the head ; and some 
 astringent plaisters crush out purulent matter. Tliis 
 kind of operation is not found in many medicines : 
 myrobalaneshave it; and it may be thebarks of peaches; 
 for this virtue requircth an astriction ; but such an as- 
 triction as is not grateful to the body ; for a pleasing 
 astriction doth rather bind in the humours than expel 
 them : and therefore, such astriction is found in things 
 of an harsh taste. 
 
 41. The sixth cause is lubrefaction and relaxation. 
 As we see in medicines emollient ; such as are milk.
 
 258 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 honey, mallows, lattice, mercurial, pellitory of the wall, 
 and others. There is also a secret virtue of relaxation 
 in cold : for the heat of the body bindeth the parts and 
 humours together, which cold relaxeth : as it is seen 
 in urine, blood, pottage, or the like ; which, if they be 
 cold, break and dissolve. And by this kind of relaxa- 
 tion, fear looseneth the belly ; because the heat retir- 
 ing inwards towards the heart, the guts and other 
 parts are relaxed ; in the same manner as fear also 
 causeth trembling in the sinews. And of this kind 
 of purgers are some medicines made of mercury. 
 
 42. The seventh cause is abstersion ; which is 
 plainly a scouring off, or incision of the more viscous 
 humours, and making the humours more fluid ; and 
 cutting between them and the part : as is found in 
 
 . nitrous water, which scoureth linen cloth speedily from 
 the foulness. But this incision must be by a sharp- 
 ness, without astriction : which we find in salt, worm- 
 wood, oxymel, and the like. 
 
 43. There be medicines that move stools, and not 
 urine ; some other, urine, and not stools. Those that 
 purge by stool, are such as enter not at all, or little, 
 into the mesentery veins ; but either at the first are 
 not digestible by the stomach, and therefore move im- 
 mediately downwards to the guts ; or else are after- 
 wards rejected by the mesentery veins, and so turn 
 likewise downwards to the guts ; and of these two kinds 
 are most purgers. I5ut those that move urine, are such 
 as are well digested of the stomach, and well received 
 also of the mesentery veins ; so they come as far as the 
 liver, which sendeth urine to the bladder, as the whey 
 of blood : and those medicines being opening and pier- 
 cing, do fortify the operation of the liver, in sending 
 down tlie wheyey part of the blood to the reins. For 
 medicines urinative do not work by rejection and in- 
 digestion, as solutive do. 
 
 44. There be divers medicines, which in greater 
 quantity move stool, and in smaller, urine : and so con- 
 trariwise, some that in greater quantity move urine, 
 and in smaller, stool. Of the former sort is rhubarb, 
 and some others. The cause is, for that rhubarb is a
 
 CENTi I.] NATURAL HISTORY. 259 
 
 medicine which the stomach in a small quantity doth 
 digest and overcome, being not fiatuous nor loathsome, 
 and so sendeth it to the mesentery veins ; and so being 
 opening, it helpeth down urine : but in a greater quan- 
 tity, the stomach cannot overcome it, and so it goeth 
 to the guts. Pepper by some of the ancients is noted 
 to be of the second sort ; which being in small quantity, 
 moveth wind in the stomach and guts, and so expelleth 
 by stool ; but being in gi'eater quantity, dissipateth the 
 wind ; and itself getteth to the mesentery veins, and 
 so to the liver and reins ; where, by heating and open- 
 ing, it sendeth down urine more plentifidly. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching meats and drinks that 
 are most nourishing. 
 
 45. We have spoken of evacuating of the body; we 
 will now speak something of the filling of it by resto- 
 ratives in consumptions and emaciating diseases. In 
 vegetables, there is one part that is more nourishing 
 than another ; as grains and roots nourish more than 
 the leaves ; insomuch as the order of the Folietanes 
 was put down by the pope, as finding leaves unable to 
 nourish man's body. Whether there be that differ- 
 ence in the flesh of living creatures, is not well in- 
 quired : as whether livers, and other entrails, be not 
 more nourishing than the outward flesh. We find 
 that amongst the Romans, a goose's liver was a great 
 delicacy ; insomuch as they had artificial means to 
 make it fair and great ; but whether it were more 
 nourishing appeareth not. It is certain, that marrow is 
 more nourishing than fat. And I conceive that some 
 decoction of bones and sinews, stamped and well 
 strained, would be a very nourishing broth : we find 
 also that Scotch skinck, which is a pottage of strong 
 nourishment, is made with the knees and sinews of 
 beef, but long boiled : jelly also, which they use for 
 a restorative, is chiefly made of knuckles of veal. The 
 pulp that is within the crawfish or crab, which they 
 spice and butter, is more nourishing than the flesh of 
 the crab or crawfish. The yolks of eggs are clearly more 
 nourishins: than the whites. So that it should seem.
 
 260 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. L 
 
 that the parts of living creatures that lie more inwards, 
 nourish more than the outward flesh ; except it be the 
 brain : which the spirits prey too much upon, to leave 
 it any great virtue of nourishment. It seemeth for the 
 nourishing of aged men, or men in consumptions, some 
 such thing should be devised, as should be half cliylus, 
 before it be put into the stomach. 
 
 46. Take two large capons ; parboil them upon a 
 soft fire, by the space of an hour or more, till in effect 
 all the blood be gone. Add in the decoction the pill 
 of a sweet lemon, or a good part of the pill of a citron, 
 and a little mace. Cut off the shanks, and throw them 
 away. Then with a good strong chopping-knife mince 
 the two capons, bones and all, as small as ordinary 
 minced meat ; put them into a large neat boulter ; 
 then take a kilderkin, sweet and well seasoned, of four 
 gallons of beer, of 8s. strength, new as it cometh from 
 the tunning ; make in the kilderkin a great bung- 
 hole of purpose : then thrust into it the boiUter, in 
 which the capons are, drawn out in length ; let it 
 steep in it three days and three nights, the bung-hole 
 open, to work ; then close the bung-hole, and so let it 
 continue a day and a half ; then draw it into bottles, 
 and you may drink it well after three days bottling ; 
 and it will last six weeks : approved. It drinketh 
 fresh, flowereth and mantleth exceecHngly ; it drink- 
 eth not newish at all ; it is an excellent drink for a 
 consumption, to be drunk either alone, or carded with 
 some other beer. It quencheth thirst, and hath no 
 whit of windiness. Note, tliat it is not possible, that 
 meat and bread, either in broths, or taken with drink, 
 as is used, should get forth into the veins and outward 
 parts, so finely and easily, as when it is thus incorpo- 
 rate, and made almost a chylus aforehand. 
 
 47. Trial would be made of the like brew with 
 potatoe roots, or burr roots, or the pith of artichokes, 
 which are nourishing meats : it may be tried also with 
 other flesh ; as ])hcasant, partridge, young pork, pig, 
 venison, especially of young deer, etc. 
 
 48. A mortress made with the brawn of capons.
 
 CHNT. I.J XATTRAI. HISTORY. 261 
 
 staiii})e(l, and sLraincd, and mingled, after it is made, 
 witli like (quantity, at the least, of almond butter, is an 
 excellent meat to nourish those that are weak ; better 
 than blackmanj>;cr, or jelly ; and so is the cullice of 
 cocks, boiled thick with the like mixture of almond 
 butter ; for the mortress or cullice, of itself, is more 
 savoury and strong, and not so fit for nourishing of 
 weak bodies ; but the almonds, that are not of so high 
 a taste as flesh, do excellently qualify it. 
 
 49. Indian maiz hath, of certain, an excellent spirit 
 of nourishment ; but it must be throughly boiled, and 
 made into a maiz-cream like a barley-cream. I judge 
 the same of rice, made into a cream ; for rice is in Tur- 
 key, and other countries of the cast, most fed upon; but 
 it must be throughly boiled in respect of the hardness 
 of it, and also because otherwise it bindeth the body 
 too much. 
 
 50. Pistachoes, so they be good, and not musty, 
 joined with almonds in almond milk ; or made into a 
 milk of themselves, like unto almond milk, but more 
 green, are an excellent nourisher: but you shall do well, 
 to add a little ginger, scraped, because they are not 
 without some subtile windiness. 
 
 5 1 . Milk warm from the cow, is found to be a great 
 nourisher, and a good remedy in consumptions : but 
 then you must put into it, when you milk the cow, 
 two little bags ; the one of powder of mint, the other 
 of powder of red roses ; for they keep the milk some- 
 what from turning or curdling in the stomach ; and 
 put in sugar also, for the same cause, and partly for 
 the taste's sake ; but you must drink a good draught, 
 that it may stay less time in the stomach, lest it cur- 
 dle : and let the cup into which you milk the cow, be 
 set in a greater cup of hot water, that you may take it 
 warm. And cow milk thus prepared, I judge to be 
 better for a consumption, than ass milk, which, it is 
 true, turneth not so easily, but it is a little harsh ; 
 marry it is more proper for sharpness of urine, and 
 exulceration of the bladder, and all manner of lenify- 
 ings. Woman's milk likewise is prescribed, when all 
 fail ; but I commend it not, as being a little too near 
 
 VOT,. T. s
 
 262 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 the juice of man's body, to be a good nourisher ; ex- 
 cept it be in infants, to whom it is natural. 
 
 52. Oil of sweet almonds, newly drawn, with sugar, 
 and a little spice, spread upon bread toasted, is an ex- 
 cellent noiu:isher : but then to keep the oil from fry- 
 ing in the stomach, you must drink a good draught of 
 mild beer after it ; and to keep it from relaxing the 
 stomach too much, you must put in a little powder of 
 cinnamon. 
 
 53. The yolks of eggs are of themselves so well pre- 
 pared bynature for nourishment, as, so they be poached, 
 or rare boiled, they need no other preparation or mix- 
 ture ; yet they may be taken also raw, when they are 
 new laid, with Malmsey, or sweet wine ; you shall do 
 well to put in some few slices of eryngium roots, and 
 a little ambergrice ; for by this means, besides the bu- 
 rn ediate faculty of nourishment, such drink will 
 strengthen the back, so that it will not draw down the 
 urine too fast ; for too much urine doth always hin- 
 der nourishment. 
 
 54. Mincing of meat, as in pies,and buttered minced 
 meat, saveth the grinding of the teeth ; and therefore, 
 no doubt, it is more nourishing, especially in age, or 
 to them that have weak teeth ; but the butter is not 
 so proper for weak bodies ; and therefore it were good 
 to moisten it with a litle claret wine, pill of lemon or 
 orange, cut small, sugar, and a very little cinnamon 
 or nutmeg. As for chuets, which are likewise minced 
 meat, instead of butter and fat, it were good to moisten 
 them, partly with cream, or almond, or pistacho milk ; 
 or barley, or maiz-cream ; adding a little coriander 
 seed and caraway seed, and a very little saffron. The 
 more full handling of alimentation we reserve to the 
 due place. 
 
 Wc have hitherto handled the particulars which 
 yield best, and easiest, and plentifullest nourishment ; 
 and now we will speak of the best means of conveying 
 and converting the nourishment. 
 
 55. The first means is, to procure that the nourish- 
 ment may not be robbed and drawn away ; wherein 
 that which wc have ahcady said is very material ; to 
 provide tliat the reins draw not too strongly an over
 
 CKNT. I.] MATTTRAI, HISTOKY. 263 
 
 great part of llio blood into iirin.?. To this add that 
 precept of Aristotle, that wine be forborn in all con- 
 sumptions ; for that the spirits of the wine do prey 
 upon the roscid juice of the body, and inter-common 
 with the spirits of tiie body, and so deceive and rob 
 them of their nourishment. And therefore if the con- 
 sumption growing from the weakness of the stomach 
 do force you to use wine, let it always be burnt, that 
 the quicker spirits may eva])orate ; or, at the least, 
 quenched with two little wedges of gold, six or seven 
 times repeated. Add also this provision, that there 
 be not too nuich expence of the nourishment, by ex- 
 haling and sweating ; and therefore if the patient be 
 apt to sweat, it must be gently restrained. But chiefly 
 Hippocrates's rule is to be followed, who adviseth 
 quite C(mtvary to that which is in use : namely, that 
 the linen or garment next the flesh be, in winter, dry 
 and oft changed; and in summer seldom changed, 
 and smeared over with oil ; for certain it is, that any 
 substance that is fat, doth a little fill the pores of the 
 body, and stay sweat in some degree : but the more 
 cleanly way is, to have the linen smeared lightly over 
 with oil of sweet almonds ; and not to forbear shifting 
 as oft as is fit. 
 
 56. The second means is, to send forth the nourish- 
 ment into the parts more strongly ; for which the 
 working must be by strengthening of the stomach ; 
 and in this, because the stomach is chiefly comforted 
 by wine and hot things, which otherwise hurt ; it is 
 good to resort to outward applications to the stomach : 
 ^Vherein it hath been tried, tliat the quilts of roses, 
 spices, mastic, wormwood, mint, etc. are nothing so 
 helpful, as to take a cake of new bread, and to bedew 
 it with a little sack, or Alicant ; and to dry it ; and 
 after it be dried a little before the fire, to put it within 
 a clean napkin, and to lay it to the stomach ; for it is 
 certain, that all flour hath a potent virtue of astric- 
 tion ; in so much as it hardeneth a piece of flesh, 
 or a flower, that is laid in it : and therefore a bag 
 quilted with bran is likewise very good ; but it drieth 
 somewhat too much, and therefore it must not lie 
 long. 
 
 s 2
 
 264 NATUEAL HISTORY. [cENT. I. 
 
 57. The third means, which may be a branch of the 
 former, is to send forth the nourishment the better by 
 sleep. For we see, that bears, and other creatures 
 that sleep in the winter, wax exceeding fat : and cer- 
 tain it is, as it is commonly believed, that sleep doth 
 nourish much ; both for tliat the spirits do less spend 
 the nourishment in sleep, than when living creatures 
 are awake ; and because, that which is to the present 
 purpose, it helpeth to thrust out the nourishment into 
 the parts. Therefore in aged men, and weak bodies, 
 and such as abound not with choler, a short sleep after 
 dinner doth help to nourish ; for in such bodies there 
 is no fear of an over-hasty digestion, which is the in- 
 convenience of postmeridian sleeps. Sleep also in the 
 morning, after the taking of somewhat of easy diges- 
 tion, as milk from the cow, nourishing broth, or the 
 like, doth further nourishment : but this would be 
 done sitting u])right, that the milk or broth may pass 
 the more speedily to the bottom of the stomach, 
 
 58. The fourth means is, to provide that the parts 
 themselves may draw to them the nourishment strongly. 
 There is an excellent observation of Aristotle ; that a 
 great reason, why plants, some of them, are of greater 
 age than living creatures, is, for that they yearly put 
 forth new leaves and boughs : whereas living creatures 
 put forth, after their period of gi'owth, nothing that is 
 young, but hair and nails, which are excrements, and 
 no parts. And it is most certain, that whatsoever is 
 young, doth draw nourishment better than that which 
 is old ; and then, that which is the mystery of that 
 observation, young boughs, and leaves, calling the sap 
 up to them, the same nourisheth the body in the 
 passage. And this we see notably proved also, in that 
 the oft cutting, or polling of hedges, trees, and herbs, 
 doth conduce much to their lasting. Transfer there- 
 fore this observation to the helping of nourishment in 
 living creatures : the noblest and principal use whereof 
 is, for the prolongation of life ; restoration of some 
 degree of youth ; and intcneration of tlie parts : for 
 certain it is, that there are in living creatures parts 
 that nourish and repair easily, and parts that nourish
 
 CENT. I.] NATlMfAL HISTORY. 265 
 
 and repair hardly : and you must refresh and renew 
 those that are easy to nourish, that the other may be 
 refreshed, and, as it were, drink in nourishment in 
 the passage. Now^ we see that draught oxen, put in- 
 to good pasture, recover the flesli of young beef ; and 
 men after long emaciating diets wax plump and fat, 
 and almost new : so that you may surely conclude, 
 that the frequent and wise use of those emaciating 
 diets, and of purgings, and perhaps of some kind of ■ 
 bleeding, is a principal means of prolongation of life, 
 and restoring some degree of youth : for as we have 
 often said, death comcth upon living creatures like 
 the torment of IMezentius : 
 
 Mortua quin ctiuni jungebat corpora vivis, 
 Componens manibusque manus, atque oribus ora. 
 
 ^N. viii. 485. 
 
 For the parts in man's body easily reparable, as spirits, 
 blood, and flesh, die in the embracement of the parts 
 hardly reparable, as bones, nerves, and membranes ; 
 and likewise some entrails, whicli they reckon amongst 
 the spermatical parts, are hard to repair : though that 
 division of spermatical and menstrual parts be but a 
 conceit. And this same observation also may be drawn 
 to the present purpose of nourishing emaciated bodies: 
 and therefore gentle fricationdrawetli forth the nourish- 
 ment, by making tlie parts a little hungry, and heating 
 them; whereby they call forth nourishment the better. 
 This frication I wish to be done in the morning. It is 
 also best done by the hand, or a piece of scarlet wool, 
 wet a little with oil of almonds, mingled with a small 
 quantity of bay-salt, or saffron : we see that the very 
 currying of horses doth make them fat, and in good 
 liking. 
 
 59. The fifth means is, to further the very act of 
 assimilation of nourishment ; which is done by some 
 outward emollients, that make the parts more apt to 
 assimilate. For which I have compounded an ointment 
 of excellent odour, which I call Roman ointment; vide 
 the receipt. The use of it would be between sleeps ; 
 for in the latter sleep the parts assimilate chiefly.
 
 :QQ natural history. [cent. I. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching Filum viedicinale, 
 
 60. There be many medicines, which by themselves 
 would do no cure, but perhaps hurt ; but being ap- 
 plied in a certain order, one after another, do great 
 cures. I have tried, myself, a remedy for the gout, 
 which hath seldom failed, but driven it away in twenty- 
 four hours space : it is first to apply a poultis, of which 
 vide the receipt, and then a bath, or fomentation, of 
 which vide the receipt ; and then a plaister, vide the 
 receipt. The poultis relaxeth the pores, and maketh 
 the humour apt to exhale. The fomentation calleth 
 forth the humour by vapours ; but yet in regard of the 
 way made by the poultis, draweth gently ; and there- 
 fore draweth the humour out, and doth not draw more 
 to it ; for it is a gentle fomentation, and hath withal a 
 mixture, though very little, of some stupefactive. The 
 plaister is a moderate astringent plaister, which re- 
 pelleth new humour from falling. The poultis alone 
 would make the part more soft and weak, and apter 
 to take the defluxion and impression of the humour. 
 The fomentation alone, if it were too weak, without 
 way made by the ])oultis, would draw forth little ; if 
 too strong, it would draw to the part, as well as draw 
 from it. The plaistei* alone would pen the humour 
 already contained in the part, and so exasperate it, as 
 well as forbid new humour. Therefore they must be 
 all taken in order, as is said. The poultis is to be laid 
 to for two or three hours : the fomentation for a quar- 
 ter of an hour, or somewhat better, being used hot, and 
 seven or eight times repeated : the plaister to continue 
 on still, till the part be well contirmed. 
 
 Experiment solitary toncliing cure by custom. 
 
 61. There is a secret way of cure, unpractised, by 
 assuetude of tliat whicli in itself luu'teth. Poisons 
 have been made, by some, familiar, as hath been said. 
 Ordinary keepers of the sick of the plague arc seldom 
 infected. Enduring of tortures, by custom, hath been 
 made more easy : the brooking of enormous quantity 
 of meats, and so of wine or strong drink, hath been, by 
 custom, made to be without surfeit or drunkenness.
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HISTORY. 267 
 
 And generally, diseases tliat arc clironical, as coughs, 
 phthisics, some kinds of ]ialsics, lunacies, etc. are most 
 dangerous at the first : therefore a wise physician will 
 consider whether a disease be incurable ; or whether 
 the just cure of it be not full of peril ; and if he find 
 it to be such, let him resort to palliation ; and allevi- 
 ate the symptom, without busying himself too nmch 
 with the perfect cure : and many times, if the patient 
 be indeed patient, that course will exceed all expecta- 
 tion. Likewise the patient himself may strive, by lit- 
 tle and little, to overcome the symptom in the exacer- 
 bation, and so, by time, turn suffering into nature. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching cure by excess. 
 
 62. Divers diseases, especially chronical, such as 
 quartan agues, are sometimes cured by surfeit and ex- 
 cesses : as excess of meat, excess of drink, extraordi- 
 nary fasting, extraordinary stirring or lassitude, and the 
 like. The cause is, for that diseases of continuance get 
 an adventitious strength from custom, besides their ma- 
 terial cause from the humours ; so that the breaking 
 of the custom doth leave them only to their first cause : 
 which if it be any thing weak will fall off. Besides, 
 such excesses do excite and spur nature, which there- 
 upon rises more forcibly against the disease. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching cure by motion of consent. 
 
 63. There is in the body of man a great consent in 
 the motion of the several parts. We see, it is childrens 
 sport, to prove whether they can rub upon their breast 
 with one hand, and pat upon their forehead with an- 
 other ; and straightways they shall sometimes rub with 
 both hands, or pat with both hands. We see, that 
 when the spirits that come to the nostrils expel a bad 
 scent, the stomach is ready to expel by vomit. We 
 find that in consumptions of the lungs, when nature 
 cannot expel by cough, men fall into fluxes of the belly, 
 and then they die. So in pestilent diseases, if they 
 cannot be expelled by sweat, they fall likewise into 
 looseness ; and that is commonly mortal. Therefore 
 physicians should ingeniously contrive, how by mo- 
 tions that are in their power, they may excite inward
 
 268 NATURAL HISTORY. [cENT. I. 
 
 motions that are not in their power, by consent : as by 
 the stench of feathers, or the like, they cure the rising 
 of the mother. 
 
 Experiment solitary toiiching aire of diseases which are con- 
 trary to predisposition. 
 
 64. Hippocrates' aphorism, " in morbis minus," is a 
 good profound aphorism. It importeth, that diseases 
 contrary to the complexion, age, sex, season of the year, 
 diet, etc. are more dangerous than those that are con- 
 current. A man would think it should be otherwise; 
 for that, when the accident of sickness, and the natu- 
 ral disposition, do second the one the other, the disease 
 should be more forcible : and so, no doubt, it is, if you 
 suppose like quantity of matter. But that which 
 maketh good the aphorism is, because such diseases do 
 shew a greater collection of matter, by that they are 
 able to overcome those natural inclinations to the con- 
 trary. And therefore in diseases of that kind, let the 
 physician apply himself more to purgation than to al- 
 teration ; because the offence is in the quantity ; and 
 the qualities are rectified of themselves. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching preparations before purging^ 
 and settling of the body afterwards. 
 
 (o5. Physicians do wisely prescribe, that there be 
 preparatives used before just purgations ; for certain 
 it is, that purgers do many times great hurt, if the 
 body be not accommodated both before and after the 
 purging. The hurt that they do, for want of prepa- 
 ration before purging, is by the sticking of the hu- 
 mours, and their not coming fair away ; which causetJi 
 in the body great perturbations and ill accidents dur- 
 ing the purging ; and also the diminishing and dul- 
 ling of the working of the medicine itself, that it purg- 
 eth not sufficiently : therefore the work of preparation 
 is double ; to make the humours fluid and mature, and 
 to make the passages more open : for both those help 
 to make the humours pass readily. And for the former 
 of these, syrups are most profitable ; and for the latter, 
 apozemes, or preparing broths ; clysters also help, lest 
 the medicine stop in the guts, and work gripingly. 
 But it is true, that bodies abounding with humours,
 
 CENT. 1.] NATURAL HISTORY 269 
 
 and fat bodies, and open weather, are preparatives in 
 themselves ; because they make the humours more 
 fluid. But let a physician beware, how he purge after 
 hard frosty weather, and in a lean body, without pre- 
 paration. For the hurt that they may do after purg- 
 ing, it is caused by the lodging of some humours in ill 
 places : for it is certain, that tliere be humours, which 
 somewhere placed in the body, are quiet, and do little 
 hurt ; in other places, especially passages, do much 
 mischief. Therefore it is good, after purging, to use 
 apozemes and broths, not so much opening as those 
 used before purging ; but abstersive and mundifying 
 clysters also are good to conclude with, to draw away 
 the reliqucs of the humours, that may have descended 
 to the lower region of the body. 
 
 Experlmeui solitary touching stanching of blood. 
 
 66. Blood is stanch etl divers ways. First, by astrhi- 
 gents, and repercussive medicines. Secondly, by draw- 
 ing of the s})irits and blood inwards ; which is done 
 by cold ; as iron or a stone laid to the neck doth stanch 
 the bleeding at the nose ; also it hath been tried, that 
 the testicles being ])ut into sharp vinegar, hath made 
 a sudden recess of the spirits, and stanched blood. 
 Thirdly, by the recess of the blood by sympathy. So 
 it hath been tried, that the part that bleedeth, being 
 thrust into the body of a capon or sheep, new ript and 
 bleeding, hath stanched blood ; the blood, as it seem- 
 cth, sucking and drawing up, by similitude of sub- 
 stance, the blood it meeteth with, and so itself going 
 back. Fourthly, by custom and time ; so the Prince 
 of Orange, in his first hurt by the Spanish boy, could 
 find no means to stanch the blood, either by medicine 
 or ligament ; but was fain to have the orifice of the 
 wound stopped by mens thumbs, succeeding one an- 
 other, for the space at the least of two days ; and at the 
 last the blood by custom only retired. There is a fifth 
 way also in use, to let blood in an adverse part, for a 
 revulsion. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching change of aliments and medicines. 
 
 67. It helpeth, both in medicine and aliment, to 
 change and not to continue the same medicine and ali-
 
 270 NATURAL HIST Oil Y. [CENT. I. 
 
 ment still. The cause is, for that nature, by continual 
 use of any thing, groweth to a satiety and dulness, 
 either of appetite or working. And we see thatassuetude 
 of things hurtful doth make tlieni lose their force to 
 hurt ; as poison, which with use some have brought 
 themselves to brook. And therefore it is no marvel 
 though things helpful by custom lose their force to 
 help: I count intermission almost the same thing with 
 change ; for that, that Imth been intermitted, is after 
 a sort new. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching diets. 
 
 68. It is found by experience, that in diets of guai- 
 acum, sarza, and the like, especially if they be strict, 
 the patient is more troubled in the beginning than 
 after continuance ; which hath made some of the more 
 delicate sort of patients give them over in the midst; 
 supposing that if those diets trouble them so much at 
 first, they shall not be able to endure them to the end. 
 But the cause is, for that all those diets do dry up hu- 
 mours, rheums, and the like ; and they cannot dry up 
 until they have first attenuated ; and while the hu- 
 mour is attenuated, it is more fluid than it was before, 
 and troubleth the body a great deal more, until it be 
 dried up and consumed. And therefore patients must 
 expect a due time, and not keck at them at the first. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the production of cold. 
 
 69. The producing of cold is a thing very worthy the 
 inquisition ; both for the use and disclosure of causes. 
 For heat and cold are nature's two hands, whereby she 
 chiefly worketh ; and heat we have in readiness, in re- 
 spect of the fire ; but for cold we must stay till it 
 cometh, or seek it in deep caves, or high mountains : 
 and when all is done, we cannot obtain it in any great 
 degree : for furnaces of fire are far hotter than a sum- 
 mer's sun ; but vaults or hills are not much colder than 
 a winter's frost. 
 
 Tlic first means of producing cold, is that which 
 nature prcsenteth us withal; namely, the expiring 
 of cold out of the inward parts of the earth in winter, 
 when the sun hath no power to overcome it ; the earth
 
 CENT. I.] NATUKAl. HISTORY. 271 
 
 being, as hath been noted by some, " primum frigi- 
 dum." This hath been asserted, as well by ancient 
 as by modern philosophers : it was the tenet of Parme- 
 nides. It was the opinion of the author of the discourse 
 in Plutarch, for I take it that book was not Plutarch's 
 own, " l)e primo frigido." It was the opinion of Te- 
 lesius, who hath renewed the philosophy of Parmeni- 
 des, and is the l)est of the no\'elists. 
 
 70. The second cause of cold is the contact of cold 
 bodies ; for cold is active and transiti\e into bodies 
 adjacent, as well as heat : which is seen in those things 
 that are touched with snow or cold water. And there- 
 fore, whosoever will be an inquirer into natm'e, let him 
 resort to a conservatory of snow and ice ; such as they 
 use for delicacy to cool wine in summer : which is a 
 poor and contemptible use, in respect of other uses, 
 that may be made of such conservatories. 
 
 71. The third cause is the primary nature of all 
 tangible bodies : for it is well to be noted, that all 
 things whatsoever, tangible, are of themselves cold ; 
 exce})t they have an accessory heat by fire, life, or mo- 
 tion : for even the spiiit of wine, or chemical oils, which 
 are so hot in operation, arc to tlie first touch cold; and 
 air itself compressed, and condensed a little by blow- 
 ing, is cold. 
 
 72. The fourth cause is the density of the body ; 
 for all dense bodies are colder than most other bodies 
 as metals, stone, glass ; and they are longer in heating 
 than softer bodies. And it is certain, that earth, 
 dense, tangible, hold all of the nature of cold. The 
 cause is, for that all matters tangible being cold, it 
 must needs follow, that where the matter is most con- 
 gregate, the cold is the greater. 
 
 7S. The fifth cause of cold, or rather of increase 
 and vehemency of cold, is a quick spirit inclosed in a 
 cold body : as will appear to any that shall attentive- 
 ly consider of nature in many instances. We see 
 nitre, which hath a quick spirit, is cold ; more cold to 
 the tongue than a stone ; so water is colder than oil, 
 because it hath a quicker spirit ; for all oil, though it 
 hath the tangible parts better digested than water.
 
 2'/2 NATURAL HISTOllY. [CENT. I. 
 
 yet hath it a duller spirit: so snow is colder than water, 
 because it hath more spirit within it ; so we see that 
 salt put to ice, as in the producing of the artificial ice, 
 increaseth the activity of cold : so some insecta which 
 have spirit of life, as snakes and silk-worms, are to the 
 touch cold : so quicksilver is the coldest of metals, be- 
 cause it is fullest of spirit. 
 
 74. The sixth cause of cold is the chasing and driv- 
 ing away of spirits, such as have some degree of heat : 
 for the banishing of the heat must needs leave any 
 body cold. This we see in the operation of opium and 
 stupefactives upon the spirits of living creatures : and 
 it were not amiss to try opium, by laying it upon the 
 top of a weather-glass, to see whether it will contract 
 the air : but I doubt it will not succeed ; for besides 
 that the virtue of opium will hardly penetrate through 
 such a body as glass, I conceive that opium, and the 
 like, make the spirits fly rather by malignity, than 
 by cold. 
 
 75. Seventhly, the same effect must follow upon the 
 exhaling or drawing out of the warm spirits, that doth 
 upon the flight of the spirits. There is an opinion, 
 that the moon is magnetical of heat, as the sun is of 
 cold and moisture : it were not amiss therefore to try 
 it, with warm waters ; the one exposed to the beams 
 of the moon, the other with some skreen betwixt the 
 beams of the moon and the water, as we use to the sun 
 for shade ; and to see whether the former will cool 
 sooner. And it were also good to inquire, what other 
 means there may be to draw forth the exile heat which 
 is in the air ; for that may be a secret of great power 
 to produce cold weather. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the version and transmutation 
 of air into water. 
 
 We have formerly set down the means of turning 
 air into water, in the experiment 27. But because it 
 is magtiale naturce, and tendeth to the subduing of a 
 very great effect, and is also of manifold use, we will add 
 some instances in consort that give light thereunto. 
 
 76. It is reported by some of the ancients, that 
 sailors have used, every night, to hang fleeces of wool
 
 CENT, 1.] NATIJUAL HISTORY. 273 
 
 on the sides of their ships, the wool towards the water; 
 and that they have crushed fresh water out of them, 
 in the morning for their use. And thus much we have 
 tried, tliat a quantity of wool tied loose together, be- 
 ing let down into a deep well, and hanging in the 
 middle, some three fathom from the water, for a night, 
 in the winter time ; increased in weight, as I now re- 
 member, to a fifth part. 
 
 77. It is reported by one of the ancients, that in 
 Lydia, near Pergamus, there were certain workmen in 
 time of wars fled into caves ; and the mouth of the 
 caves being stopped by the enemies, they were famished. 
 But long time after the dead bones were found ; and 
 some vessels which they had carried with them ; and 
 the vessels full of water ; and that water thicker, and 
 more towards ice, than common water : which is a no- 
 table instance of condensation and induration by biu-ial 
 under earth, in caves, for a long time ; and of version 
 also, as it should seem, of air into water; if any of 
 those vessels were empty. Try therefore a small blad- 
 der hung in snow, and the like in nitre, and the like 
 in quicksilver : and if you find the bladders fallen or 
 shrunk, you maybe sure the air is condensed by the cold 
 of those bodies, as it would be in a cave under earth. 
 
 ?8. It is reported of very good credit, that in the 
 East Indies, if you set a tub of water open in a room 
 where cloves are kept, it will be drawn dry in twenty- 
 four hours ; though it stand at some distance from the s 
 cloves. In the country, they use many times, in deceit, 
 when their wool is new shorn, to set some pails of water 
 by in the same room, to increase the weight of the wool. 
 But it may be, that the heat of the wool, remaining 
 from the body of the sheep, or the heat gathered by 
 the lying close of the wool, helpeth to draw the wa- 
 tery vapour : but that is nothing to the Acrsion. 
 
 79. It is reported also credibly, that wool new shorn, 
 being laid casually upon a vessel of verjuice, after some 
 time had drunk up a great part of the verjuice, though 
 the vessel were whole without any flaw, and had not 
 the bimg-hole open. In this instance, there is, upon 
 the by, to be noted, the percolation or suing of the
 
 274 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 verjuice througli the wood ; for verjuice of itself would 
 never have passed through the wood : so as, it seemeth, 
 it must be first in a kind of vapour, before it pass. 
 
 80. It is especially to be noted, that the cause that 
 doth facilitate the version of air into water, when the 
 air is not in gross, but subtilly mingled with tangible 
 bodies, is, as hath been partly touched before, for that 
 tangible bodies have an antipathy with air ; and if 
 they find any liquid body that is more dense near them, 
 they will draw it: and after they have drawn it, tlicy will 
 condense it more, and in effect incorporate it ; for we 
 see that a spunge, or wool, or sugar, or a woollen cloth, 
 being put but in part in water or wine, will draw the 
 liquor higher, and beyond the place where the water 
 or wine cometh. We see also, that wood, lute strings, 
 and the like, do swell in moist seasons ; as appearelh 
 by the breaking of the strings, the hard turning of 
 the pegs, and the hard drawing forth of boxes, and 
 opening of wainscot doors : which is a kind of infusion : 
 and is much like to an infusion in water, which will 
 make wood to swell ; as we see in the filling of the 
 chops of bowls, by laying them in water. But for that 
 part of these experiments which concerneth attraction, 
 we will reserve it to the proper title of attraction. 
 
 81. There is also a version of air into water seen 
 in the sweating of marbles and other stones ; and of 
 wainscot before and in moist weather. This must be, 
 either by some moisture the body yieldeth, or else by 
 the moist air thickened against the hard body. But it 
 is plain, that it is the latter ; for that we see wood 
 painted with oil colour, will sooner gather drops in a 
 moist night, than wood alone ; which is caused by the 
 smoothness and closeness ; which letteth in no part 
 of the vapour, and so turneth it back, and thickeneth 
 it into dew. We see also, that breathing upon a glass, 
 or smooth body, giveth a dew ; and in frosty mornings, 
 such as we call rime frosts, you shall find drops of dew 
 upon the inside of glass windows ; and the frost itself 
 upon the ground is but a version or condensation of 
 the moist vapours of the night, into a watery substance: 
 dews likewise, and rain, are but the returns of moist
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HLSTORV. 2^5 
 
 vapours condensed ; the dew, by the cold only of the 
 sun's departure, which is the gentler cold; rains, by 
 the cold of that which they call the middle region of 
 the air ; which is the more violent cold. 
 
 82. It is very probable, as hath been touched, that 
 that which will turn w ater into ice, will likewise turn 
 air some degree nearer unto water. Therefore try the 
 experiment of the artificial turning water into ice, 
 whereof we shall speak in another place, with air in 
 place of water, and the ice about it. And although 
 it be a greater alteration to turn air into water, than 
 water into ice ; yet there is this hope, that by conti- 
 nuing the air longer time, the effect will follow : for 
 that artificial conversion of water into ice, is the work 
 of a few hours ; and this of air may be tried by a 
 month's space or the like. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching induration of bodies. 
 
 Induration, or lapidification of substances more soft, 
 is likewise another degree of condensation ; and is a 
 great alteration in nature. The effecting and accele- 
 rating thereof is very worthy to be inquired. It is 
 effected by three means. The first is by cold ; whose 
 property is to condense and constipate, as hath been 
 said. The second is by heat ; which is not proper but 
 by consequence ; for the heat doth attenuate ; and 
 by attenuation doth send forth the spirit and moister 
 part of a body ; and ujion that, the more gross of the 
 tangible parts do contract and serre themselves toge- 
 ther ; both to avoid vacuum, as they call it, and also 
 to munite themselves against the force of the fire, 
 which they have suffered. And the third is by assi- 
 milation ; when a hard body assimilateth a soft, being 
 contiguous to it. 
 
 The examples of indui'ation, taking them promis- 
 cuously, are many : as the generation of stones within 
 the earth, which at the first are but rude earth or clay ; 
 and so of minerals, which come, no doubt, at first 
 of juices concrete, which afterwards indurate : and so 
 of porcellane, which is an artificial cement, buried in 
 the earth a long time ; and so the making of brick
 
 276 NATURAL HISTORY. [CEKT. T. 
 
 and tile : also the making of glass of a certain sand and 
 brake-roots, and some other matters ; also the exuda- 
 tions of rock-diamonds and crystal, which harden 
 with time ; also the indiu-ation of bead-amber, which 
 at first is a soft substance ; as appcareth by the flies 
 and spiders which are found in it ; and many more : 
 but we will speak of them distinctly. 
 
 83. For indurations bv cold, there be few trials of 
 it ; for we have no strong or intense cold here on the 
 surface of the earth, so near the beams of the sun, 
 and the heavens. The likeliest trial is by snow and 
 ice ; for as snow and ice, especially being holpen and 
 their cold activated by nitre, or salt, will turn water 
 into ice, and that in a few hours ; so it may be, it will 
 turn wood or stiff clay into stone, in longer time. Put 
 therefore into a conserving pit of snow and ice, add- 
 ing some quantity of salt and nitre, a piece of wood, or 
 a piece of tough clay, and let it lie a month or more. 
 
 84. Another trial is by metalline waters, which have 
 virtual cold in them. Put therefore wood or clay into 
 smiths water, or other metalline water, and try whe- 
 ther it ^vill not harden in some reasonable time. But I 
 understand it of metalline waters that come by washing 
 or quenching ; and not of strong waters that come by 
 dissolution; for they are too corrosive to consolidate. 
 
 85. It is already found that there are some natural 
 spring waters, that will inlapidate wood ; so that you 
 shall see one piece of wood, whereof the part above the 
 water shall continue wood ; and the part under the 
 water shall be turned into a kind of gravelly stone. It 
 is likely those waters are of some metalline mixture ; 
 but there would be more particular inquiry made of 
 them. It is certain, that an egg was found, having 
 lain many years in the bottom of a moat, where the 
 earth had somewhat overgrown it ; and this egg was 
 come to the hardness of a stone, and had the colours 
 of the white and yolk perfect, and the shell shining 
 in small grains like sugar or alabaster. 
 
 86. Another experience there is of induration by 
 cold, which is already found ; which is, that metals 
 themselves are hardened by often heating and quench-
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HISTOllY. 277 
 
 iiig in cold water : for cold ever worketh most potently 
 upon heat precedent. 
 
 87. For induration by heat, it must be considered, 
 that heat, by the exhaling of the moister parts, doth 
 either harden the body, as in bricks, tiles, &c. or if tlic 
 heat be more fierce, maketh the grosser part itself run 
 and melt ; as in the making of ordinary glass ; and 
 in the vitrification of earth, as we see in the inner parts 
 of furnaces, and in the vitrification of brick, and of 
 metals. And in the former of these, which is the 
 hardening by baking without melting, the heat hath 
 these degrees ; first, it indurateth, and then maketh 
 fragile ; and lastly it doth incinerate and calcinate. 
 
 88. But if you desire to make an induration with 
 toughness, and less fragility, a middle way would be 
 taken ; which is that which Aristotle hath well noted ; 
 but would be throughly verified. It is to decoct bodies 
 in water for two or three days ; but they must be such 
 bodies into which the water will not enter ; as stone 
 and metal : for if they be bodies into which the water 
 will enter, then long seething will rather soften than 
 indurate them ; as hath been tried in eggs, &c. there- 
 fore softer bodies must be put into bottles, and the 
 bottles hung into water seething, with the mouths open 
 above the water, that no water may get in ; for by this 
 means the virtual heat of the water will enter ; and 
 such a heat, as v/ill not make the body adust or fragile ; 
 but the substance of the water will be shut out. This 
 experiment we made ; and it sorted thus. It was tried 
 with a piece of free-stone, and with pewter, put into 
 the water at large. The free-stone we found received 
 in some water ; for it was softer and easier to scrape 
 than a piece of the same stone kept dry. But the 
 pewter, into which no water could enter, became more 
 white, and liker to silver, and less flexible by much. 
 There were also put into an earthen bottle, placed as 
 before, a good pellet of clay, a piece of cheese, a piece 
 of chalk, and a piece of free-stone. The clay came 
 forth almost of the hardness of stone ; the cheese like- 
 wise very hard, and not well to be cut ; the chalk and 
 the free-stone much harder than they were. The 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 278 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. 1. 
 
 colour of the clay inclined not a whit to the colour of 
 brick, but rather to white, as in ordinary drying by the 
 sun. Note, that all the former trials were made by 
 a boiling upon a good hot fire, renewing the water as 
 it consumed, with other hot water ; but the boiling was 
 but for twelve hours only ; and it is like that the 
 experiment would have been more effectual, if the 
 boiling had been for two or three days, as we prescribed 
 before. 
 
 89. As touching assimilation, for there is a degree 
 of assimilation even in inanimate bodies, we see ex- 
 amples of it in some stones in clay-grounds, lying near 
 to the top of the earth, where pebble is ; in which you 
 may manifestly see divers pebbles gathered together, 
 and a crust of cement or stone between them, as hard 
 as the pebbles themselves ; and it were good to make 
 a trial of purpose, by taking clay, and putting in it 
 divers pebble stones, thick set, to see whether, in con- 
 tinuance of time, it will not be harder than other clay 
 of the same lump, in which no pebbles are set. We 
 see also in ruins of old walls, especially towards the 
 bottom, the mortar will become as hard as the brick : 
 we see also, that the wood on the sides of vessels of wine, 
 gathereth a crust of tartar, harder than the wood itself ; 
 and scales likewise grow to the teeth, harder than the 
 teeth themselves. 
 
 90. INIost of all, induration by assimilation aj/pear- 
 eth in the bodies of trees and living creatures : for no 
 nourishment that the tree rccciveth, or that the living 
 creature receiveth, is so hard as wood, bone, or horn, &c, 
 but is indurated after by assimilation. 
 
 Eocperiment solitary touching the version x)f water into air. 
 
 91 . The eye of the understanding is like the eye of 
 the sense : for as you may see great objects through 
 small crannies, or levels ; so you may see great axioms 
 of nature through small and contemptible instances. 
 The speedy depredation of air upon watery moisture, 
 and version of the same into air, appcareth in nothing 
 more visible, than in the sudden discharge or vanishing 
 of a little cloud of breath or vapour from glass, or the
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HISTORY. 279 
 
 blade of a sword, or any such polished body, such as 
 doth not at all detain or imbibe the moisture ; for the 
 mistiness scattereth and breaketh up suddenly. But 
 the like cloud, if it were oily or fatty, will not discharge ; 
 not because it sticketh faster ; but because air preycth 
 upon water ; and flame and fire upon oil ; and therefore 
 to take out a spot of grease they use a coal upon brown 
 paper ; because fire worketh upon grease or oil, as air 
 doth upon water. And we see paper oiled, or wood 
 oiled, or the like, last long moist ; but wet with water, 
 dry or putrify sooner. The cause is, for that air 
 meddleth little with the moisture of oil. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the force of union. 
 
 92. There is an admirable demonstration in the 
 same trifling instance of the little cloud upon glass, or 
 gems, or blades of swords, of the force of union, even 
 in the least quantities, and weakest bodies, how much 
 it conduceth to preservation of the present form, and 
 the resisting of a new. For mark well the discharge 
 of that cloud ; and you shall see it ever break up, first 
 in the skirts, and last in the midst. We see likewise, 
 that much water draweth forth the juice of the body 
 infused ; but little water is imbibed by the body : and 
 this is a principal cause, why in operation upon bodies 
 for their version or alteration, the trial in great quanti- 
 ties dotli not answer the trial in small ; and so deceiveth 
 many : for that, I say, the greater body resisteth more 
 any alteration of form, and requireth far greater 
 strength in the active body that should subdue it. 
 
 Experiment solitary touchinp the producing of feathers and 
 hairs of divers colours. 
 
 93. We have spoken before, in the fifth instance, of 
 the cause of orient colours in birds ; which is by the 
 fineness of the strainer ; we will now endeavour to 
 reduce the same axiom to a work. For this writing of 
 our " Sylva Sylvarum" is, to speak properly, not natural 
 history, but a high kind of natural magic. For it is 
 not a description only of nature, but a breaking of 
 nature into great and strange works. Try therefore 
 the anointing over of pigeons, or other birds, when they 
 
 T *i
 
 280 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 are but in their down ; or of whelps, cutting their hair 
 as short as may be ; or of some other beast ; with some 
 ointment that is not hurtful to the flesh, and that will 
 harden and stick very close ; and see whether it will 
 not alter the colours of the feathers or hair. It is 
 received, that the pulling off the first feathers of birds 
 clean, will make the new come forth white : and it is 
 certain that white is a penurious colour, and where 
 moisture is scant. So blue violets, and other flowers, 
 if they be starved, turn pale and white ; birds and 
 horses, by age or scars, tarn white ; and the hoar 
 hairs of men come by the same reason. And therefore 
 in birds, it is very likely, that the feathers that come 
 first will be many times of divers colours, according to 
 the nature of the bird, for that the skin is more porous ; 
 but when the skin is more shut and close, the feathers 
 will come white. This is a good experiment, not only 
 for the producing of birds and beasts of strange colours ; 
 but also for the disclosure of the nature of colours them- 
 selves ; which of them require a finer porosity, and 
 which a grosser. 
 
 Experiment solitary iouching the notirishment of livi7ig a'ea- 
 tiires before they he brought forth. 
 
 94. It is a work of providence, that hath been truly 
 observed by some, that the yolk of the egg conducctli 
 little to the generation of the bird, but only to the 
 nourishment of the same ; for if a chicken be opened, 
 when it is new hatched, you shall find much of the yolk 
 remaining. And it is needful, that birds that are 
 shaped without the female's womb have in the egg, as 
 well matter of nourishment, as matter of generation 
 for the body. For after the egg is laid, and severed 
 from the body of the hen, it hath no more nourish- 
 ment from the hen, but only a quickening heat wlien 
 she sitteth. But beasts and men need not the matter 
 of nourishment within themselves, because they are 
 shaped within the womb of the female, and are nou- 
 rished continually from her body. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching sympathy and antipathy for 
 medicinal use. 
 
 95. It is an inveterate and received opinion, that 
 cantharides applied to any part of the body, touch tlie
 
 CENT. 1.] NATURAL HISTORY. 281 
 
 bladder, and exulcerate it, if they stay on long. It is 
 likewise received, that a kind of stone, which they 
 bring out of the West-Indies, hath a peculiar force to 
 move gravel, and to dissolve the stone : insomuch, as 
 laid but to the wrist, it hath so forcibly sent down 
 gravel, as men have been glad to remove it, it was so 
 violent. 
 
 96. It is received, and confirmed by daily experience, 
 that the soles of the feet have great affinity with the 
 head and the mouth of the stomach ; as we see going 
 wet-shod, to those that use it not, affecteth both : 
 applications of hot powders to the feet attenuate first, 
 and after dry the rheum : and therefore a physician 
 that would be mystical, prescribeth, for the cure of the 
 rheum, that a man should walk continually upon a 
 camomile-alley ; meaning, that he should put camomile 
 within his socks. Likewise pigeons bleeding, applied 
 to the soles of the feet, ease the head : and soporiferous 
 medicines applied unto them, provoke sleep. 
 
 97. It seemeth, that as the feet have a sympathy 
 with the head, so the wrists and hands have a sympathy 
 with the heart ; we see the affects and passions of the 
 heart and spirits are notably disclosed by the pulse: 
 and it is often tried, that juices of stock-gilly-flowers, 
 rose-campian, garlick, and other things, applied to the 
 wrists, and renewed, have cured long agues. And I 
 conceive, that washing witli certain liquors the palms 
 of the hands doth much good : and they do well in 
 heats of agues, to hold in the hands eggs of alabaster 
 and balls of crystal. 
 
 Of these things wc shall speak more, when we 
 handle the title of sympathy and antipathy in the 
 proper place. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the secret processes of nature. 
 
 98. The knowledge of man hitherto hath been 
 determined by the view or sight ; so that whatsoever 
 is invisible, either in respect of the fineness of the body 
 itself, or the smallness of the parts, or of the subtilty 
 of the motion, is little inquired. And yet these be the 
 things that govern nature principally ; and without
 
 282 NATURAL HISTOIIY. [CENT. I. 
 
 which you cannot make any true analysis and indica- 
 tion of the proceedings of nature. The spirits or 
 pneumaticals, that are in all tangible bodies, are scarce 
 kno\\Ti. Sometimes they take them for vacuum ; 
 whereas they are the most active of bodies. Sometimes 
 they take them for air ; from which they differ exceed- 
 ingly, as much as wine from water ; and as wood from 
 earth. Sometimes thev will have them to be natural 
 heat, or a portion of the element of fire ; whereas some 
 of them are crude and cold. And sometimes they will 
 have them to be the virtues and qualities of the tan- 
 gible parts which they see ; whereas they are things 
 by themselves. And then, when they come to plants 
 and living creatures, they call tlieni souls. And such 
 superficial speculations they have ; like prospectives, 
 that shew things inward, when they are but paintings. 
 Neither is this a question of words, but infinitely 
 material in nature. For spirits are nothing else but 
 a natural body, rarified to a proportion, and included 
 in the tangible parts of bodies, as in an integument. 
 And they be no less differing one from the other, than 
 the dense or tangible parts ; and they are in all tangible 
 bodies whatsoever, more or less ; and they are never 
 almost at rest; and from them, and their motions, 
 principally proceed arefaction, colliquation, concoction, 
 maturation, putrefaction, vivification, and most of the 
 effects of nature : for, as we have figured them in our 
 *' Sapientia Veterum," in the fable of Proserpina, you 
 shall in the infernal regiment hear little doings of 
 Pluto, but most of Proserpina : for tangible parts in 
 bodies are stupid things ; and the spirits do in effect 
 all. As for the differences of tangible parts in bodies, 
 the industry of the chemists hath given some light, in 
 discerning by their separations the oily, crude, pure, 
 impure, fine, gross parts of bodies, and the like. And 
 the pliysicians are content to acknowledge, that herbs 
 and drugs have divers j)arts ; as tliat opium hath a 
 stupefactive part, and a heating part ; the one moving 
 sleep, tile other a sweat following ; and that rhubarb 
 hath purging parts, and astringent })avts, &c. But this 
 whole inquisition is weakly and negligently handled.
 
 CENT. I.] NATURAL HISTORY. 283 
 
 And for the more subtle differences of the minute parts, 
 and tlie posture of them in the body, which also hath 
 great effects, they are not at all touched : as for the 
 motions of the minute parts of bodies, which do so great 
 effects, they have not been observed at all ; because 
 they are invisible, and incur not to the eye ; but yet 
 they are to be deprehendcd by experience : as Demo- 
 critus said well, when they charged him to hold, that 
 the world was made of such little motes, as were seen 
 in the sun : " Atomus," saith he, " necessitate rationis 
 et cxperientiae esse convincitur ; atomum enim nemo 
 unquam vidit." And therefore the tumult in the 
 parts of solid bodies, when they are compressed, which 
 is the cause of all flight of bodies through the air, and 
 of other mechanical motions, as hath been partly 
 touched before, and shall be throughly handled in due 
 place, is not seen at all. But nevertheless, if you know 
 it not, or inquire it not attentively and diligently, you 
 shall never be able to discern, and much less to produce, 
 a number of mechanical motions. Again, as to the 
 motions corporal, within the inclosures of bodies, 
 whereby the effects, which were mentioned before, pass 
 between the spirits and the tangible parts, which are 
 arefaction, coUiquation, concoction, maturation, &c. 
 they are not at all handled. But they are put off by 
 the names of virtues, and natures, and actions, and 
 passions, and such other logical words. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the pouer of heat. 
 
 99. It is certain, that of all powers in nature heat 
 is the chief ; both in the frame of nature, and in the 
 works of art. Certain it is likewise, that the effects 
 of heat are most advanced, when it worketh upon a body 
 without loss or dissipation of the matter ; for that ever 
 betray etli the account. And therefore it is true, that 
 the power of heat is best perceived in distillations, 
 which are performed in close vessels and receptacles. 
 But yet there is a higher degree ; for howsoever dis- 
 tillations do keep the body in cells and cloisters, mth- 
 out going abroad, yet they give space unto bodies to 
 turn into vapour ; to return into liquor ; and to sepa-
 
 284; NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. I. 
 
 rate one part from another. t>o as nature doth expa- 
 tiate, although it hath not full liberty ; whereby the 
 true and ultimate operations of heat are not attained. 
 But if bodies may be altered by heat, and yet no such 
 reciprocation of rarefaction, and of condensation, and 
 of separation, admitted; then it is like that this Proteus 
 of matter, being held by the sleeves, will turn and 
 change into many metamorphoses. Take therefore a 
 square vessel of iron, in form of a cube, and let it have 
 good thick and strong sides. Put into it a cube of 
 w ood, that may fill it as close as may be ; and let it 
 have a cover of iron, as strong at least as the sides ; and 
 let it be well luted, after the manner of the chemists. 
 Then place the vessel within burning coals, kept quick 
 kindled for some few hours space. Then take the 
 vessel from the fire, and take off the cover, and see 
 what is become of the wood. I conceive, that since 
 all inflammation and evaporation are utterly prohibited, 
 and the body still turned upon itself, that one of these 
 two effects will follow : either that the body of the wood 
 will be turned into a kind of amalgama^ as the che- 
 mists call it ; or that thefi' erpart will be turned into 
 air, and the grosser stick as it were baked, and incrus- 
 tate upon the sides of the vessel, being become of a 
 denser matter than the wood itself crude. And for 
 another trial, take also water, and put it in the like 
 vessel, stopped as before ; but use a gentler heat, and 
 remove the vessel sometimes from the fire ; and again, 
 after some small time, when it is cold, renew the heat- 
 ing of it ; and repeat this alteration some few times : 
 and if you can once bring to pass, that the water, which 
 is one of the simplest of bodies, be changed in colour, 
 odour, or taste, after the manner of compound bodies, 
 you may be sure that there is a great work wrought in 
 nature, and a notable entrance made into strange 
 changes of bodies and productions ; and also a way 
 ' made to do that by fiie, in small time, which the sun 
 and age do in long time. But of tlie admirable effects 
 of this distillation in close, for so we will call it, which 
 is like the wombs and matrices of living creatures, 
 where nothing expireth nor scparateth, we will speak
 
 CENT. 1.] NATURAL HISTORY. 285 
 
 fully, in the due place ; not that we aim at the making 
 of Paracelsus's pygmies, or any such prodigious follies ; 
 but that we know the effects of heat will be such, as 
 will scarce fall under the conceit of man, if the force 
 of it be altogether kept in. 
 
 Experiments solitary touching the impossibility of annihilation. 
 
 100. There is nothing more certain in nature than 
 that it is impossible for any body to be utterly anni- 
 hilated ; but that as it was the work of the omnipo- 
 tency of God to make somewhat of nothing, so it re- 
 quireth the like omnipotency to turn somewhat into 
 nothing. And therefore it is well said by an obscure 
 writer of the sect of the chemists, that there is no such 
 way to effect the strange transmutations of bodies, as 
 to endeavom* and urge by all means the reducing of 
 them to nothing. And herein is contained also a great 
 secret of preservation of bodies from change ; for if you 
 can prohibit, that they neither turn into air, because 
 no air cometh to them ; nor go into the bodies adja- 
 cent, because they are utterly heterogeneal ; nor make 
 a round and circulation within themselves ; they will 
 never change, though they be in their nature never so 
 perishable or mutable. We see how flics, and spiders, 
 and the like, get a sepulchre in amber, more durable 
 than the monument and embalming of the body of 
 any king. And \ conceive the like will be of bodies 
 put into quicksilver. But then they must be but 
 thin, as a leaf, or a piece of paper or parchment ; for 
 if they have a greater crassitude, they will alter in 
 their own body, though they spend not. But of this 
 we shall speak more when we handle the title of con- 
 servation of bodies.
 
 NATURAL HISTORY. 
 
 CENTURY II. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching Music. 
 
 Music, in the practice, hath been well pursued, 
 and in good variety ; but in the theory, and especially 
 in the yielding of the causes of the practic, very 
 weakly ; being reduced into certain mystical subtilties 
 of no use and not much truth. We shall, therefore, 
 after our manner, join the contemplative and active 
 part together. 
 
 101. All sounds are either musical sounds, which 
 we call tones ; whereunto there may be an harmony ; 
 which sounds are ever equal ; as singing, the sounds 
 of stringed and wind instruments, the ringing of bells, 
 etc. or immusical sounds, which are ever unequal ; 
 such as are the voice in speaking, all whisperings, all 
 voices of beasts and birds, except they be singing- 
 birds, all percussions of stones, wood, parchment, skins, 
 as in drums, and infinite others. 
 
 102. The sounds that produce tones, are ever from 
 such bodies as are in their parts and pores equal ; as 
 well as the sounds themselves are equal ; and such are 
 the percussions ofmetal, asin bells; of glass, as in the 
 fiUipping of a drinking glass ; of air, as in mens voices 
 whilst they sing, in pipes, whistles, organs, stringed 
 instruments, etc. and of water, as in the nightingale 
 pipes of regals, or organs, and other hydraulics ; which 
 the ancients liad, and Nero did so mucli esteem, but 
 are now lost. And if any man think, that the string 
 of the bow and the string of the viol are neither of 
 them equal bodies, and yet produce tones, he is in an 
 error. For the sound is not created between the bow 
 or plect?ii7n and the string ; but between the string 
 and the air ; no more tlian it is between the finger or
 
 CENT. II.] NATURAl, HISTORY. 287 
 
 quill, and the string in other intruments. So there 
 are, in effect, but three percussions that create tones; 
 percussions of metals, comprehending glass and the 
 like, percussions of air, and percussions of water. 
 
 103. The diapason or eight in music is the sweet- 
 est concord, in so much as it is in effect an unison; as 
 we see in lutes that are strung in the base strings with 
 two strings, one an eight above another ; which make 
 but as one sound. And every eighth note in ascent, 
 as from eight to fifteen, from fifteen to twenty-two, 
 and so in injinititm, are but scales of diapason. The 
 cause is dark, and hath not been rendered by any; and 
 tlierefore would be better contemplated. It seemeth 
 that air, which is the subject of sounds, in sounds that 
 are not tones, which are all unequal, as hath been said, 
 admitteth much variety ; as we see in the voices of 
 living creatures ; and likewise in the voices of several 
 men, for we are capable to discern several men by their 
 voices ; and in the conjugation of letters, whence arti- 
 culate sounds proceed ; which of all others are most 
 various. But in the sounds which we call tones, that 
 are ever equal, the air is not able to cast itself into 
 any such variety ; but is forced to recur into one and 
 the same posture or figure, only differing in greatness 
 and smallness. So we see figures may be made of lines, 
 crooked and straight, in infinite variety, where there is 
 inequality ; but circles, or squares, or triangles equi- 
 lateral, which are all figures of equal lines, can differ 
 but in greater or lesser. 
 
 104. It is to be noted, the rather lest any man should 
 think, that there is any thing in tliis number of eight, 
 to create the diapason, that this computation of eight 
 is a thing rather received, than any true computation. 
 For a true computation ought ever to be by distribu- 
 tion into equal portions. Now there be intervenient 
 in the rise of eight, in tones, two bemolls, or half-notes: 
 so as if you divide the tones equally, the eight is but 
 seven whole and equal notes ; and if you subdivide 
 that into half-notes, as it is in the stops of a lute, it 
 maketli the number of thirteen. 
 
 105. Yet this is true, that in the ordinary rises
 
 288 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. II. 
 
 and falls of the voice of man, not measuring the tone 
 by whole notes, and half-notes, which is the equal 
 measure, there fall out to he two bemolls, as hath been 
 said, between the unison and the diapason : and this 
 varying is natural. For if a man would endeavour to 
 raise or fall his voice, still by half-notes, like the stops 
 of a lute ; or by whole notes alone without halfs, as 
 far as an eight ; he will not be able to frame his 
 voice unto it. Which sheweth, that after every three 
 whole notes, nature requireth, for all harmonical use, 
 one half-note to be interposed. 
 
 106. It is to be considered, that whatsoever virtue 
 is in numbers, for conducing to concent of notes, is 
 rather to be ascribed to the ante-number, than to the 
 entire number ; as namely, that the soimd returneth 
 after six or after twelve ; so that the seventh or the 
 thirteenth is not the matter, but the sixth or the 
 twelfth ; and the seventh and the thirteenth are but 
 the limits and boundaries of the return. 
 
 107. The concords in music which are perfect or 
 semiperfect, between the unison and the diapason, are 
 the fifth, which is the most perfect ; the third next ; 
 and the sixth, which is more harsh : and, as the 
 ancients esteemed, and so do myself and some other 
 yet, the fourth which they call diatessaron. As for 
 the tenth, twelfth, thirteenth, and so in infinitum ; 
 they be but recurrences of the former, viz. of the 
 third, the fifth, and the sixth ; being an eight re- 
 spectively from them. 
 
 108. For discords, the second and the seventh are 
 of all others the most odious, in harmony, to the sense; 
 whereof the one is next above the unison, the other 
 next under the diapason : which may shew, that har- 
 mony requireth a competent distance of notes. 
 
 109. In hannony, if there be not a discord to the 
 base, it doth not disturb the harmony, though there 
 be a discord to the higher parts ; so the discord be not 
 of the two that are odious ; and therefore the ordinary 
 concent of four parts consistcth of an eight, a fifth, and 
 a third to the base ; but that fifth is a fourth to the 
 treble, and the third is a sixth. And the cause is, for 
 that the base striking more air, doth overcome and
 
 CENT. II.] NATURAL HISTORY. 289 
 
 drown the treble, unless the discord be very odious ; 
 and so hideth a small imperfection. For we see, that 
 in one of the lower strings of a lute, there soundeth not 
 the sound of the treble, nor any mixt sound, but only 
 the sound of the base. 
 
 110. We have no music of quarter^ notes ; and it 
 may be they are not capable of harmony : for we see 
 the half-notes themselves do but interpose sometimes. 
 Nevertheless we have some slides or relishes of the 
 voice or strings, as it were continued without notes, 
 from one tone to another, rising or falling, which are 
 delightful. 
 
 111. The causes of that which is pleasing or ingrate 
 to the hearing, may receive light by that which is 
 pleasing or ingrate to the sight. There be two things 
 pleasing to the sight, leaving pictures and shapes aside, 
 which are but secondary objects ; and please or dis- 
 please but in memory ; these two are colours and or- 
 der. The pleasing of colour symbolizeth with the 
 pleasing of any single tone to the ear ; but the pleas- 
 ing of order doth symbolize with harmony. And there- 
 fore we see in garden-knots, and the frets of houses, and 
 all equal and well answering figures, as globes, pyramids, 
 cones, cylinders, etc. how they please; whereas unequal 
 figures are but deformities. And both these plea- 
 sures, that of the eye, and that of the ear, are but the 
 effects of equality, good proportion, or correspondence: 
 so that, out of question, equality and correspondence 
 are the causes of harmony. But to find the propor- 
 tion of that correspondence, is more abstruse ; whereof 
 notwithstanding we shall speak somewhat, when we 
 handle tones, in the general enquiry of sounds. 
 
 112. Tones are not so apt altogetlier to procure 
 sleep as some other sounds ; as the wind, the purling 
 of water, humming of bees, a sweet voice of one that 
 readeth, etc. The cause whereof is, for that tones, 
 because they are equal and slide not, do more strike 
 and erect the sense than the other. And overmuch 
 attention hindereth sleep. 
 
 113. There be in music certain figures or tropes, 
 almost agreeing with the figures of rhetoric, and with 
 the affections of the mind, and other senses. First,
 
 290 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. II. 
 
 the division and quavering', which please so much in 
 music, have an agreement with the glittering of light; 
 as the moon-beams playing upon a wave. Again, the 
 falling from a discord to a concord, which maketh 
 great sweetness in music, hath an agreement with the 
 affections, which are reintegrated to the better^ after 
 some dislikes ; it agreeth also with the taste, which is 
 soon glutted with that which is sweet alone. The sli- 
 ding from the close or cadence, hath an agreement 
 with the figure in rhetoric, which they call prczter 
 expect atuvi ; for there is a pleasure even in being de- 
 ceived . The reports, and fuges, have an agreement with 
 the figures in rhetoric, of repetition and traduction. 
 The triplas, and changing of times, have an agreement 
 with the changes of motions ; as when galliard time, 
 and measure time, are in the medley of one dance. 
 
 114. It hath been anciently held and observed, that 
 the sense of hearing, and the kinds of music, have 
 most operation upon manners ; as, to encourage men, 
 and make them warlike ; to make them soft and effe- 
 minate ; to make them grave ; to make them light ; 
 to make them gentle and inclined to pity, etc. The 
 cause is, for that the sense of hearing striketh the 
 spirits more immediately than the other senses ; and 
 more incorporeally than the smelling ; for the sight, 
 taste, and feeling, have their organs not of so present 
 and immediate access to the spirits, as the hearing hath. 
 And as for the smelling, which indeed worketh also 
 immediately upon the spirits, and is forcible while the 
 object remaineth, it is with a communication of the 
 breath or vapour of the object odorate ; but harmony 
 entering easily, and mingling not at all, and coming 
 with a manifest motion, doth by custom of often af- 
 fecting the spirits, and putting them into one kind of 
 posture, alter not a little the nature of the spirits, even 
 when the object is removed. And therefore we see, 
 that tunes and airs, even in their own nature, have in 
 themselves some affinity with the affections ; as there 
 be merry tunes, doleful tunes, solemn tunes ; tunes 
 inclining mens minds to pity ; warlike tunes, etc. 80 
 as it is no marvel if they alter the s})irits, considering 
 that tunes liave a predis])osition to the motion of the
 
 CENT. II.] NATURAL HISTORY. 291 
 
 spirits in themselves. But yet it hath been noted, that 
 though this variety of tunes doth dispose the spirits to 
 variety of passions, conform unto them, yetgenerally mu- 
 sic feedeth that disposition of the spirits, which it find- 
 eth. We see also, that several airs and tunes do please 
 several nations and persons, according to the sympa- 
 thy they have with their spirits. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching sounds ; and first touching 
 the nullity and entity oj' sounds. 
 
 Perspective hath been with some diligence enquired; 
 and so hath the nature of sounds, in some sort, as far 
 as coucerneth music : but the nature of sounds in ge- 
 neral hath been superficially observed. It is one of 
 the subtilest pieces of nature. And besides, I prac- 
 tise, as I do advise ; which is, after long enquiry of 
 things immersed in matter, to interpose some subject 
 which is immateriatc, or less matoriate ; such as this 
 of sounds ; to the end, that the intellect may be recti- 
 fied, and become not partial. 
 
 115. It is first to be considered, what great motions 
 there arc in nature, which pass without sound or noise. 
 The heavens turn about in a most rapid motion, with- 
 out noise to us perceived ; though in some dreams 
 they have been said to make an excellent music. 80 
 the motions of the comets, and fiery meteors, as Stella 
 cadens, etc. yield no noise. And if it be thought, 
 that it is the greatness of distance from us, whereby 
 the sound cannot be heard ; we see that lightnings^ 
 and coruscations, which arc near at hand, yield no 
 sound neither : and yet in all these, there is a per- 
 cussion and division of the air. The winds in the 
 up])er region, which move the clouds above, wliicli we 
 call the rack, and are not perceived below, pass with- 
 out noise. The lower winds in a plain, except they 
 be strong, make no noise ; but amongst trees, 
 the noise of such winds will be perceived. And the 
 winds, generally, when they make a noise, do ever 
 make it unequally, rising and falling, and sometimes, 
 when they are vehement, trembling at the height of 
 their blast. Rain or hail falling, though vehemently, 
 yieldeth no noise in passing througli tlie air, till it fall
 
 292 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. II. 
 
 uix)n the ground, water, houses, or the like. Water 
 in a river, though a swift stream, is not heard in the 
 channel, but runneth in silence, if it be of any depth ; 
 but the very stream upon shallows, of gravel, or peb- 
 ble, will be heard. And waters, when they beat upon 
 the shore, or are straitened, as in the falls of bridges, 
 or are dashed against themselves, by winds, give a 
 roaring noise. Any piece of timber, or hard body, 
 being thrust forwards by another body contiguous, with- 
 out knocking, giveth no noise. And so bodies in 
 weighing one upon another, though the upper body 
 press the lower body down, make no noise. So the 
 motion in the minute parts of any solid body, which 
 is the principal cause of violent motion, though un- 
 obsen-ed, passeth without sound ; for that sound that 
 is heard sometimes, is produced only by the breaking 
 of the air ; and not by the impulsion of the parts. So 
 it is manifest, that where the anterior body giveth 
 way, as fast as the posterior cometh on, it maketh no 
 noise, be the motion never so great or swift. 
 
 116. Air open, and at large, maketh no noise, ex- 
 cept it be sharply percussed ; as in the sound of a 
 string, where air is percussed by a hard and stiff body, 
 and with a sharp loose: for if the string be not strained, 
 it maketh no noise. But where the air is pent and strait- 
 ened, there breath or other blowing, which carry but a 
 gentle percussion, suffice to create sound ; as in pipes 
 and wind-instruments. But then you must note, that 
 in recorders, which go with a gentle breath, the concave 
 of the pipe, were it not for the fipple that straiteneth 
 the air, much more than the simple concave, would 
 yield no sound. For as for other wind-instruments, 
 they require a forcible breath ; as trumpets, cornets, 
 hunters horns, etc. which appeareth by the blown 
 cheeks of him that windcth them. Organs also are 
 blown with a strong wind by the bellows. And note 
 again, that some kind of wind-instruments are blown 
 at a small hole in the side, which straiteneth the breath 
 at the first entrance; the rather, in respect of their tra- 
 verse and stop above tlie hole, which performeth the 
 fipples part ; as it is seen in flutes and fifes, which will 
 not give sound by a blast at the end, as recorders, etc.
 
 CKNT. II.] NATUKAI. llISTOltV. 293 
 
 do. Likewise in all whistling, yon contract the month : 
 and to make it more sharp, men sometimes use their 
 finger. )^nt in open air, if you tlirov/ a stone or a 
 dart, they give no sound ; no more do bullets, except 
 tliey happen to l)c a little hollowed in the casting ; 
 which hollowness pcniicth the air : nor yet arrows, 
 except they be ruffled in their feathers, which like- 
 wise penneth the air. As for sniall whistles or shep- 
 herds oaten pipes, tliey give a sound because of their 
 extreme slcnderness, whereby tlie air is more pent 
 than in a wider pipe. Again, the voices of men and 
 living creatures pass through the throat, which pen- 
 nctli the breath. As for the Jews-liarp, it is a sharp 
 percussion ; and, besides, hath the advantage of pen- 
 ning the air in the mouth. 
 
 117. Solid bodies, if they be very softly percussed, 
 give no sound ; as when a man treadeth very softly 
 upon boards. So chests or doors in fair weather, when 
 they open easily, give no sound. And cart-wheels 
 squeak not when they are liquored. 
 
 118. Tiie (lame of tapers or candles, though it be 
 a swift motion and bveaketh the air, yet passeth with- 
 out sound. Air in ovens, though, no doubt, it dotli, 
 as it were, boil and dilate itself, and is repercussed ; 
 yet it is without noise. 
 
 119. Flame percussed by air giveth a noise: as in 
 blowing of the five by bellov.'s ; greater than if the 
 bellows should blow upon the air itself. And so like- 
 wise flame percussing the air strongly, as when flame 
 suddenly takcth andopcneth, giveth a noise ; so great 
 flames, while the one impellcth the other, give a bel- 
 lowing sound. 
 
 120. There is a conceit runiieth abroad, that there 
 should 1)0 a white powder, which will discharge a piece 
 without noise ; which is a dangerous experiment if it 
 should be true : for it may cause secret murders. But 
 it seemeth to me impossible ; for, if tiie air pent be 
 driven forth and strike the air open, it will certainly 
 make a noise. As for the white powder, if any such 
 thing be, that may extinguish or dead the noise, it 
 is like to b:> a mixture of petre and sulphur, without 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 294 NATURAL HISTORY. [cENT. II. 
 
 coal. For petre alone will not take lire. And if any 
 man think, that the sound may be extinguished or 
 deaded by discharging the pent air, before it cometh 
 to the mouth of the piece and to the open air, that is 
 not probable ; for it will make more divided sounds ; 
 as if you should make a cross-barrel hollow through 
 the barrel of a piece, it may be it would give several 
 sounds, both at the nose and at the sides. But I 
 conceive, that if it were possible to bring to pass, that 
 there should be no air pent at the mouth of the piece, 
 the bullet might fly with small or no noise. For first it 
 is certain, there is no noise in the percussion of the 
 flame upon the bullet. Next the bullet, in piercing 
 through the air, maketh no noise ; as hath been said. 
 And then, if there be no pent air that striketh upon 
 open air, there is no cause of noise ; and yet the fly- 
 ing of the bullet will not be stayed. For that mo- 
 tion, as hath been oft said, is in the parts of the bul- 
 let, and not in the air. So as trial must be made by 
 taking some small concave of metal, no more than you 
 mean to fill with powder, and laying the bullet in the 
 mouth of it, half out in the open air. 
 
 121. I heard it affirmed by a man that was a great 
 dealer in secrets, but he was but vain, that there was 
 a conspiracy, which himself hindered, to have killed 
 queen Mary, sister to queen Elizabeth, by a burning- 
 glass, when she walked in Saint James's park, from 
 the leads of the house. But thus much, no doubt, is 
 true ; that if burning-glasses could be brought to a 
 great strength, as they talk generally of burning- 
 glasses that are able to burn a navy, the percussion of 
 the air alone, by such a burning-glass, would make no 
 noise; no more than is found in coruscations and 
 lightnings without thunders. 
 
 122. I suppose that impression of the air with 
 sounds asketh a time to be conveyed to the sense, as 
 well as the impressing of species visible ; or else they 
 will not be heard. And therefore, as the bullet moveth 
 so swift that it is invisible : so the same swiftness of 
 motion maketh it inaudible : for we see, that the ap- 
 prehension of the eye is quicker than that of the ear.
 
 CENT. II.] NATURAL HISTORY. 295 
 
 123. All eruptions of air, though small and slight, 
 give an entity of sound, which we call crackling, puf- 
 fing, spitting, etc. as in bay-salt, and bay-leaves, cast 
 into the fire ; so in chestnuts, when they leap forth of 
 the ashes ; so in green wood laid upon the fire, especi- 
 ally roots ; so in candles, that spit flame if they be wet; 
 so in rasping, sneezing, etc. so in a rose leaf gathered 
 together into the fashion of a purse, and broken upon 
 the forehead, or back of the hand, as children use. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching production, conservation, and 
 delation of sounds ; and the office of the air therein. 
 
 124, The cause given of sound, that it should be an 
 elision of the air, whereby, if they mean any thing, 
 they mean a cutting or dividing, or else an attenuating 
 of the air, is but a term of ignorance ; and the notion 
 is but a catch of the wit upon a few instances ; as the 
 manner is in the philosophy received. And it is com- 
 mon with men, that if they have gotten a pretty ex- 
 pression by a word of art, that expression goeth cur- 
 rent ; though it be empty of matter. This conceit of 
 elision appeareth most manifestly to be false, in that 
 the sound of a bell, string, or the like, continueth 
 melting some time after the percussion ; but ceaseth 
 straightw^ays, if the bell, or string, be touched and stay- 
 ed : whereas, if it were the elision of the air that made 
 the sound, it could not be that the touch of the bell 
 or string should extinguish so suddenly that motion 
 caused by the elision of the air. This appeareth yet 
 more manifestly by chiming with a hammer upon the 
 outside of a bell : for the sound will be according to 
 the inward concave of the bell : whereas the elision or 
 attenuation of the air cannot be but only between the 
 hammer and the outside of the bell. So again, if it 
 were an elision, a broad hammer, and a bodkin, struck 
 upon metal, would give a diverse tone, as well as a 
 diverse loudness : but they do not so ; for though the 
 sound of the one be louder, and of the other softer, yet 
 the tone is the same. Besides, in echoes, w'hereof some 
 are as loud as the original voice, there is no new^ eli- 
 sion, but a repercussion only. But that which con- 
 vinceth it most of all is, that sounds are generated 
 
 u 2
 
 296 NATURAL HISTORY. [CEXT. II, 
 
 where there is no air at all. . But these and the like 
 conceits, when men have cleared their understanding 
 by the light of experience, will scatter and break up 
 like a mist. 
 
 125. It is certain, that sound is not produced at the 
 first, but with some local motion of the air, or flame, 
 or some other medium ; nor yet without some resist- 
 ance, either in the air or the body percussed. For if 
 there be a mere yielding or cession, it produceth no 
 sound ; as hath been said. And therein sounds differ 
 from light and colours, which pass through the air, or 
 other bodies, without any local motion of the air ; 
 either at the first, or after. But you must attentively 
 distinguish between the local motion of the air, which 
 is but vehiciilum causce, a carrier of the sounds, and 
 the sounds themselves, conveyed in the air. For as 
 to the former, we see manifestly, that no sound is pro- 
 duced, no not by air itself against other air, as in or- 
 gans, etc. but with a perceptible blast of the air ; and 
 with some resistance of the air strucken. For even all 
 speech, which is one of the gentlest motions of air, is 
 with expulsion of a little breath. And all pipes have 
 a blast, as well as a sound. We see also manifestly, 
 that sounds are carried with wind: and therefore 
 sounds will be heard further with the wind, than 
 against the wind ; and likewise do rise and fall with 
 the intension or remission of the wind. But for the 
 impression of the sound, it is quite another thing, and 
 is utterly without any local motion of the air, percep- 
 tible ; and in that resembleth the species visible : for 
 after a man hath lured, or a bell is rung, we cannot 
 discern any perceptible motion at all in the air along 
 as the sound goeth ; but only at the first. Neither 
 doth the wind, as far as it carrieth a voice, with the 
 motion thereof, confound any of the delicate and arti- 
 culate figurations of tlic air, in variety of words. And 
 if a man speak a good loudness against the flame of a 
 candle, it will not make it tremble much ; though 
 most wlicn tliose letters arc pronounced which con- 
 tract tlic mouth ; as F, S, V, and some others. But 
 gentle breathing, or blowing without speaking, will
 
 CENT. 11.] NATUKAL IlISTOllV. 297 
 
 move the caiulle far more. And it is tlie move pro- 
 bable, tbat sound is witliout any local motion of the 
 air, because as it differctli from tbe sight, in that it 
 necdeth a local motion of the air at first ; so it paral- 
 leleth in so many other things with the sight, and ra- 
 diation of things visible; which, without all question, 
 induce no local motion in the air, as hath been said. 
 
 126. Nevertheless it is true, tluit upon the noise of 
 thunder, and great ordnance, glass windows will shake; 
 and lislies are thought to be frayed with the motion 
 caused by noise upon the water. But these effects are 
 from the local motion of the air, which is a concomi- 
 tant of the sound, as hath been said, and not from 
 the sound. 
 
 127. It hath been anciently reported, and is still 
 received, that extreme applauses and shouting of peo- 
 ple assembled in great multitudes, have so rarified and 
 broken the air, that birds flying over have fallen down, 
 the air being not able to support them. And it is be- 
 lieved by some, that great ringing of bells in populous 
 cities hath chased away thunder ; and also dissipated 
 pestilent air : all which may be also from the concus- 
 sion of the air, and not from the sound. 
 
 128. A very great sound, near hand, hath strucken 
 many deaf; and at the instant they have found, as it 
 were, the breaking of a skin or parchment in their ear : 
 and myself standing near one that lured loud and shrill, 
 had suddenly an offence, as if somewhat had broken 
 or been dislocated in my ear ; and immediately after 
 a loud ringing, not an ordinary singing or hissing, but 
 far louder and differing, so as I feared some deafness. 
 J5ut after some half quarter of an hour it vanished. 
 This effect may be truly referred unto the sound : for, 
 as is commonly received, an over-potent object doth 
 destroy the sense ; and spiritual species, both visible 
 and audible, will work upon the sensories, though they 
 move not any other body. 
 
 129. In delation of sounds, the inclosure of them 
 preserveth them, and causeth them to be heard farther. 
 And we find in rolls of parchment or trunks, the mouth 
 being laid to the one end of the roll of parchment or
 
 298 NATURAL HISTOllY. [CENT. 11. 
 
 truiikj and the ear to the other, the sound is heard 
 much farther than in the open air. The cause is, for 
 that the sound spendeth, and is dissipated in the open 
 air ; but in such concaves it is conserved and con- 
 tracted. So also in a piece of ordnance, if you speak 
 in the touch-liole, and another lay his ear to the mouth 
 of the piece, the sound passeth and is far better heard 
 than in the open air. 
 
 130. It is further to be considered, how it proveth 
 and worketh when the sound is not inclosed all the 
 length of its way, but passeth partly through open air ; 
 as where you speak some distance from a trunk ; or 
 where the ear is some distance from the trunk at the 
 other end ; or where both mouth and ear are distant 
 from the trunk. And it is tried, that in a long trunk 
 of some eight or ten foot, the sound is holpeu, though 
 both the mouth and the ear be a handful or more from 
 
 • the ends of the trunk ; and somewhat more holpen, 
 when the ear of the hearer is near, than when the mouth 
 of the speaker. And it is certain, that the voice is bet- 
 ter heard in a chamber from abroad, than abroad from 
 within the chamber. 
 
 131. As the inclosure that is round about and en- 
 tire, preserveth the sound ; so doth a semi-concave, 
 though in a less degree. And therefore, if you divide 
 a trunk, or a cane into two, and one speak at the one 
 end, and you lay your ear at the other, it will carry the 
 voice further, than in the air at large. Nay further, 
 if it be not a full semi-concave, but if you do the like 
 upon the mast of a ship, or a long pole, or a piece of 
 ordnance, though one speak upon the surface of the 
 ordnance, and not any of the bores, the voice will be 
 heard farther tlian in the air at large. 
 
 132. It would be tried, how, and with what propor- 
 tion of disadvantage the voice will be carried in an 
 horn, which is a line arched ; or in a trumpet, which 
 is a line retorted ; or in some pipe that were sinuous. 
 
 n 133. It is certain, howsoever it cross the received 
 opinion, that sounds may be created without air, though 
 air be the most favourable deferent of sounds. Take 
 d vessel of water, and knap a pair of tongs some depth
 
 CENT. II.] NATUllAl- HISTORY. 299 
 
 within the water, and you shall hear the sound of the 
 tongs well, and not much diminished ; and yet there 
 is no air at all present. 
 
 134. Take one vessel of silver, and another of wood, 
 and fill each of them full of water, and then knap the 
 tongs together, as heforc, ahout an handful from the 
 bottom, and you shall find the sound much more re- 
 sounding from the vessel of silver, than from that of 
 wood : and yet if there be no water in the vessel, so 
 that you kna}) the tongs in the air, you shall find no 
 difference between the silver and the wooden vessel. 
 Whereby, beside the main point of creating sound 
 without air, you may collect two things : the one, that 
 the sound communicateth with the bottom of the ves- 
 sel ; the other, that such a communication passeth far 
 better through water than air. 
 
 I'd 5. Strike any hard bodies together in the midst 
 of a flame ; and you shall hear the sound with little 
 difference from the sound in the air, 
 
 136. The pneumatical part which is in all tangible 
 bodies, and hath some affinity with the air, performeth, 
 in some degree, the parts of the air ; as when you 
 knock upon an empty barrel, the sound is in part creat- 
 ed by the air on the outside ; and in jmrt by the air in 
 the inside : for the sound will be greater or lesser, as 
 the barrel is more empty or more full ; but yet the 
 sound participateth also with the spirit in the wood 
 through which it passeth, from the outside to the in- 
 side : and so it cometh to pass in the chiming of bells 
 on the outside ; where also the sound passeth to the 
 inside : and a number of other like instances, whereof 
 we shall speak more when we handle the communica- 
 tion of sounds. 
 
 137. It were extreme grossness to think, as we have 
 partly touched before, that the sound in strings is 
 made or produced between the hand and the string, or 
 the quill and the string, or the bow and the string, for 
 those are but ve/iicula motiis, passages to the creation 
 of the sound, the sound being produced between the 
 string and the air ; and that not by any impulsion of 
 the air from the first motion of the string ; but by the
 
 300 NATURAL HISTOKY. [CENT. II. 
 
 return or result of tlie string, wliicli was strained by 
 the touch, to his former place : which motion of result 
 is quick and sliarp ; whereas the first motion is soft and 
 dull. So the bow tortureth the string continually, 
 and thereby holdeth it in a continual trepidation. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the viagnitiale and exility 
 and damps of sounds. 
 
 138. Take a trunk, and let one whistle at the one 
 end, and hold your ear at the other, and you shall find 
 the sound strike so sharp as you can scarce endure it. 
 The cause is, for that sound diffuscth itself in round, 
 and so spendeth itself; but if the sound, which w^ould 
 scatter in open air, be made to go all into a canal, it 
 must needs give greater force to the sound. And so 
 you may note, that inclosurcs do not only preserve 
 sound, l3ut also increase and sharpen it. 
 
 139. A hunter's horn being greater at one end than 
 at the other, doth increase the sound more than if the 
 horn were all of an equal bore. The cause is, for that 
 the air and sound being first contracted at the lesser 
 end, and afterwards having more room to spread at 
 the greater end, do dilate themselves ; and in coming 
 out strike more air ; whereby the sound is the greater 
 and baser. And even hunters horns, which are some- 
 times made straight, and not oblique, arc ever greater 
 at the lower end. It would be tried also in pipes, be- 
 ing made far larger at the lower end ; or being made 
 with a belly towards the lower end, and then issuing 
 into a straight concave again. 
 
 140. There is in Saint James's fields a conduit of 
 brick, unto which joineth a low vault ; and at the 
 end of that a round house of stone : and in the brick 
 conduit there is a window ; and in the round house 
 a slit or rift of some little breadth : if you cry out in 
 the rift, it will make a fearful roaring at the window. 
 The cause is the same with the former ; for that all 
 concaves, that proceed from more narrow to more broad, 
 do amplify the sound at tlie coming out. 
 
 l^l. Hawks bells, that have lioles in the sides, 
 give a greater ring, than if the pellet did strike upon
 
 CENT. II.] NATUKAL HISTORY. 301 
 
 brass in the open air. The canse is the same witli the 
 first instance of the trunk ; namely, for that the sound 
 inclosed witli the sides of the bell cometh forth at the 
 holes unspent and more strong. 
 
 142. In drums, the closeness round about, that 
 preserveth tlie sound from dispersing, maketh the noise 
 come forth at the drum-hole far more loud and strong 
 than if you should strike u[)on the like skin extended 
 in tlie open air. The cause is the same with the two 
 precedent. 
 
 143. Sounds are better lieard, and farther off, in 
 an evening or in the niglit, than at the noon or in the 
 day. The cause is, for that in tlie day, when the air 
 is more thin, no doubt, the sound pierceth better ; 
 but when the air is more thick, as in the night, the 
 sound spendeth and spreadeth abroad less : and so it 
 is a degree of inclosure. As for the night, it is true 
 also that the general silence helpeth. 
 
 144. There be two kinds of reflexions of sounds; 
 the one at distance, which is the echo ; wherein the 
 original is heard distinctly, and the reflexion also dis- 
 tinctly ; of which we shall speak hereafter : the other 
 in concurrence ; when the sound reflecting, the re- 
 flexion being near at hand, returneth immediately 
 upon the original, and so iterateth it not, but ampli- 
 fleth it. Therefore we see, that music upon the water 
 soundeth more ; and so likewise music is better in 
 chambers wainscotted than hanged. 
 
 145. The strings of a lute, or viol, or virginals, 
 do give a far greater sound, by reason of the knot, 
 and board, and concave underneath, tlian if there were 
 nothing but only the flat of a board, witliout that hol- 
 low and knot, to let in the upper air into the lower. 
 The cause is the communication of the upper air with 
 the lower, and penning of both from expence or dis- 
 persing. 
 
 146. An Irish harp hath open air, on both sides of 
 the strings : and it hath the concave or belly not along 
 the strings, but at the end of the strings. It maketh 
 a more resounding sound than a bandora, orpharion,or 
 cittern, which have likewise wire-strings. I judge
 
 302 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. II. 
 
 the cause to be, for that open air on both sides helpeth, 
 so that there be a concave; which is therefore best placed 
 at the end. 
 
 147. In a virginal, when the lid is down, it maketh 
 a more exile sound than when the lid is open. The 
 cause is, for that all shutting in of air, where there is 
 no competent vent, dampeth the sound : which main- 
 taineth likewise the former instance ; for the belly of 
 the lute or viol doth pen the air somewhat. 
 
 148. There is a church at Gloucester, and, as I 
 have heard, the like is in some other places, where if 
 you speak against a wall softly, another shall hear your 
 voice better a good way off, than near at hand. In- 
 quire more particularly of the frame of that place. I 
 suppose there is some vault, or hollow, or isle, behind 
 the wall, and some passage to it towards the farther 
 end of that wall against which you speak ; so as the 
 voice of him that speaketh slideth along the wall, and 
 then entereth at some passage, and communicateth 
 with the air of the hollow ; for it is preserved some- 
 what by the plain wall ; but that is too weak to give 
 a sound audible, till it hath communicated with the 
 back air. 
 
 149. Strike upon a bow-string, and lay the horn 
 of the bow near yom* ear, and it will increase the 
 sound, and make a degree of a tone. The cause is, for 
 that the sensory, by reason of the close holding, is per- 
 cussed before the air disperseth. The like is, if you 
 hold the horn betwixt your teeth : but that is a plain 
 delation of the sound from the teeth to the instrument 
 of healing ; for there is a great intercourse between 
 those two parts ; as appeareth by this, that a harsh 
 grating tune setteth the teeth on edge. The like fal- 
 leth out, if the horn of the bow be put upon the tem- 
 ples ; but that is but the slide of the sound from thence 
 to the ear. 
 
 150. If you take a rod of iron or brass, and hold the 
 one end to your ear, and strike upon the other, it 
 maketh a far greater sound than the like stroke upon 
 the rod, made not so contiguous to the ear. By which, 
 and by some other instances that have been partly
 
 CENT. II.] NATUllAI- HISTORY. 303 
 
 touched, it should appear, that sounds do not only slide 
 upon the surface of a smooth body, but do also commu- 
 nicate with the spirits, that are in the pores of the body. 
 
 151. I remember in Trinity College, in Cambridge, 
 there was an upper chamber, which, being thought 
 weak in the roof of it, was supported by a pillar of 
 iron of the bigness of one's arm in the midst of the 
 chamber ; which if you had struck, it would make a 
 little flat noise in the room where it was struck, but it 
 would make a great bomb in the chamber beneath, 
 
 152. The sound which is made by buckets in a 
 well, when they touch upon the water, or when they 
 strike upon the side of the w ell, or when two buckets 
 dash the one against the other, these sounds are deeper 
 and fuller than if the like percussion were made in 
 the open air. The cause is the penning and inclosure 
 of the air in the concave of the well. 
 
 153. Barrels placed in a room vmder the floor of 
 a chamber, make all noises in the same chamber more 
 full and resounding. 
 
 8o that there be five ways, in general, of majoration 
 of sounds : inclosure simple ; inclosure with dilatation ; 
 communication ; reflexion concurrent ; and approach 
 to the sensory. 
 
 154. For exility of the voice or other sounds ; it 
 is certain that the voice doth pass through solid and 
 hard bodies if they be not too thick : and through 
 water, which is likewise a very close body, and such 
 an one as letteth not in air. But then the voice, or 
 other sound, is reduced by such passage to a great 
 weakness or exility. If therefore you stop the holes 
 of a hawk's bell, it will make no ring, but a flat noise 
 or rattle. And so doth dttites or eagle-stone, which 
 hath a little stone within it. 
 
 155. And as for water, it is a certain trial : let a 
 man go into a bath, and take a pail, and turn the 
 bottom upward, and carry the mouth of it, even, down 
 to the level of the water, and so press it down under 
 the water some handful and an half, still keeping it 
 even, that it may not tilt on either side, and so the 
 air get out : then let him that is in the bath dive
 
 J04 NATURAL IIISTOllV. [CENT. 11. 
 
 with liis head so far under water, as he may put his 
 liead into the pail, and there will come as much air 
 bubbling forth, as will make room for his head. Then 
 let him speak, and any that shall stand mthout shall 
 hear his voice plainly; but yet made extreme sharp and 
 exile, like the voice of puppets : but yet the articulate 
 sounds of the worils will not be confounded. Note, 
 that it may be much more handsomely done, if the 
 pail be put over the man's head above water, and 
 then he cower down, and the pail be pressed down with 
 him. Note, that a man must kneel or sit, that he 
 may be lower than the water. A man would think that 
 the Sicilian poet had knowledge of this experiment ; 
 for lie saith, that Hercules's page, Hylas, went with 
 a water pot to fdl it at a pleasant fountain that was 
 near the shore, and that the nymphs ;of the fountain 
 fell in love with the boy, and pulled him under 
 water, keeping him alive ; and that Hercules missing 
 his page, called him by his name aloud, that all the 
 shore rang of it; and that Hylas from within the water 
 answered his master, but, that which is to the present 
 purpose, with so small and exile a voice, as Hercules 
 thought he had been three miles off, when the foun- 
 tain, indeed, was fast by. 
 
 156. In lutes and instruments of strings, if you 
 stop a string high, whereby it hath less scope to trem- 
 ble, the sound is more treble, but yet more dead. 
 
 157. Take two saucers, and strike the edge of the 
 one against the bottom of the other, within a pail of 
 water ; and you shall find, that as you put the saucers 
 lower and lower, the sound groweth more flat ; even 
 while part of the saucer is above the water ; but that 
 flatness of sound is joined with a harshness of sound ; 
 which no doubt is caused by the inequality of the 
 sound which cometh from the part of the saucer under 
 the water, and from the part above. But when the 
 saucer is wholly under the water, the sound becometh 
 more clear, but far more low, and as if the sound came 
 from afar off. 
 
 158. A soft body dampeth the sound much more 
 than a liard ; as if a bell hath cloth or silk wrapped 
 about it, it dcadcth the sound more than if it were
 
 CENT. II.] NATURAL HISTORY. 305 
 
 wood. And tlieicfore in clcrit»als the keys are lined : 
 and in colleges tlicy used to line the tablemen. 
 
 159. Trial was made in a recorder after these 
 several manners. Tlie bottom of it was set against 
 the palm of the hand ; stopped with wax round 
 about ; set against a damask cushion ; thrust into 
 sand ; into ashes ; into water, half an inch under the 
 water ; close to the bottom of a silver bason ; and 
 still the tone remained : but the bottom of it was set 
 against a woollen carpet ; a lining of plush ; a lock 
 of w'ool, though loosely put in ; against snow ; and 
 the .sound of it was quite deaded, and but breath. 
 
 160. Iron hot produceth not so full a sound as 
 when it is cold ; for w^hile it is hot, it appeareth to 
 be more soft and less resounding. 80 likewise warm 
 water, when it falleth, maketh not so full a sound as 
 cold; and I conceive it is softer, and nearer the 
 nature of oil ; for it is more slippery, as may be per- 
 ceived in that it scowreth better. 
 
 161. Let there be a recorder made with two fipples, 
 at each end one ; tlie trunk of it of the length of two 
 recorders, and the holes answerable towards each end ; 
 and let two play the same lesson upon it at an unison ; 
 and let it be noted whether the sound be confounded, or 
 amplified, or dulled. 80 likewise let a cross be made 
 of two trunlcs, throughout, hollow ; and let two 
 speak, or sing, the one long-ways, the other traverse ; 
 and let two hear at the opposite ends ; and note whe- 
 ther the sound be confounded, amplified, or dulled. 
 Which two instances will also give light to the mix- 
 ture of sounds, whereof we shall speak hereafter. 
 
 162. A bellows blown in at the hole of a drum, 
 and the drum then struck en, maketh the sound a little 
 flatter, but no other apparent alteration. The cause is 
 manifest ; partly for that it hindereth the issue of the 
 sound ; and partly for that it maketh the air, being 
 blown together, less moveable. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the loudness or softness of 
 sounds, and their carriage at longer or shorter distance. 
 
 163. The loudness and softness of sounds is a thing 
 distinct from the masjnitude and exilitv of sounds ;
 
 306 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. II. 
 
 for a base string, thougli softly struckeii, giveth the 
 greater sound ; but a treble string, if hard strucken, 
 will be heard much farther off. And the cause is, 
 for that the base string striketh more air, and the 
 treble less air, but with a sharper percussion. 
 
 164. It is therefore the strength of the percussion, 
 that is a principal cause of the loudness or softness of 
 sounds ; as in knocking harder or softer ; winding of 
 a horn stronger or weaker ; ringing of a hand-bell 
 harder or softer, etc. And the strength of this per- 
 cussion consisteth as much or more in the hardness of 
 the body percussed, as in the force of the body per- 
 cussing : for if you strike against a cloth, it will give 
 a less sound ; if against wood, a greater ; if against 
 metal, yet a greater ; and in metals, if you strike 
 against gold, which is the more pliant, it giveth the 
 flatter sound; if against silver or brass, the more ring- 
 ing sound. As for air, where it is strongly pent, 
 it matcheth a hard body. And therefore we see in 
 discharging of a piece, what a great noise it maketli. 
 We see also, that the charge with bullet, or with 
 paper wet and hard stopped, or with powder alone 
 rammed in hard, maketh no great difference in the 
 loudness of the report. 
 
 165. The sharpness or quickness of the percussion, 
 is a great cause of the loudness, as well as the strength ; 
 as in a whip or wand, if you strike the air with it ; the 
 sharper and quicker you strike it, the louder sound it 
 giveth. And in playing upon the lute or virginals, the 
 quick stroke or touch is a great life to the sound. The 
 cause is, for that the quick striking cuttcth the air spee- 
 dily; whereas thesoft striking doth rather beat than cut. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the communication of sounds. 
 
 The communication of sounds, as in bellies of lutes, 
 empty vessels, etc. hath been touclied obiter in the 
 majoration of sounds ; but it is fit also to make a title 
 of it apart. 
 
 166. The experiment for greatest demonstration of 
 communication of sounds,is the chiming of bells; where 
 if you strike with a hammer upon the upper part, and
 
 CENT. II.] NATURAL HISTORY. 307 
 
 then upon the midst, and then upon the lower, you 
 shall find the sound to be more treble and more base, 
 according unto the concave on the inside, though the 
 percussion be only on the outside. 
 
 167. When the sound is created between the blast 
 of the mouth and the air of the pipe, it hath never- 
 theless some communication with the matter of the 
 sides of the pipe, and the spirits in them contained ; 
 for in a pipe, or trumpet, of wood, and brass, the sound 
 will be diverse ; so if the pipe be covered with cloth 
 or silk, it will give a diverse sound from that it would 
 do of itself; so if the pipe be a little wet on the in- 
 side, it will make a differing sound from the same 
 pipe dry. 
 
 168. That sound made within water doth commu- 
 nicate better with a hard body through water, than 
 made in air it doth with air, vide Experimentum 134. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching equality and inequality of 
 sounds. 
 
 We have spoken before, in the inquisition touching 
 music, of musical sounds, whereunto there may be a 
 concord or discord in two parts ; which sounds we call 
 tones : and likewise of immusical sounds ; and have 
 given the cause, that the tone proceedeth of equality, 
 and the other of inequality. And we have also ex- 
 pressed there, w^hat are the equal -bodies that give 
 tones, and what are the unequal that give none. But 
 now we shall speak of such inequality of sounds, as 
 proceedeth not from the nature of the bodies them- 
 selves, but is accidental ; either from the roughness 
 or obliquity of the passage, or from the doubling of 
 the percutient, or from the trepidation of the motion. 
 
 169. A bell, if it have a rift in it, whereby the 
 sound hath not a clear passage, giveth a hoarse and 
 jarring sound ; so the voice of man, when by cold taken 
 the weasand groweth rugged, and, as we call it, furred, 
 becometh hoarse. And in these two instances the 
 sounds are ingrate, because they are merely unequal : 
 but if they be unequal in equality, then the sound is 
 grateful, but purling.
 
 ;08 NATURAL HISTORY. [CKNT. 11. 
 
 170. All instruments that have either returns, as 
 trumpets ; or flexions, as cornets ; or are drawn up, 
 and put from, as sackbuts ; have a purling sound : but 
 the recorder, or flute, that have none of these inequa- 
 lities, give a clear sound. Nevertheless, the recorder 
 itself, or pipe, moistened a little in the inside, sound- 
 eth more solemnly, and with a little purling or hiss- 
 ing. Again, a ^vl•eathed string, such as are in the base 
 strings of bandoras, giveth also a purling sound. 
 
 171. But a lute-string, if it be merely unequal in 
 its parts, giveth a harsh and untuneablc sound ; which 
 strings we call false, being bigger in one place than in 
 another ; and therefore wire strings are never false. 
 We see also, that when we try a false lute-string, we 
 use to extend it hard between the fingers, and to fillip 
 it ; and if it giveth a double species, it is true ; but if 
 it giveth a treble, or more, it is false. 
 
 172. Waters, in the noise they make as they run, 
 represent to the ear a trembling noise ; and in regals, 
 where they have a pipe they call the niglitingale-pipe, 
 which containeth water, the sound hath a continual 
 trembling : and children have also little things they 
 call cocks, w^hich have water in them ; and when they 
 blow or whistle in them, they yield a trembling noise ; 
 which trembling of water hath an affinity with the 
 letter L. All which inequalities of trepidation are 
 rather pleasant than otherwise. 
 
 173. All base notes, or very treble notes, give an 
 asper sound ; for that the base striketh more air, than 
 it can well strike equally : and the treble cuttcth the 
 air so sharp, as it returneth too swift to make the sound 
 equal: and therefore a mean or tenor is the sweetest part. 
 
 17J^. We know nothing that can at pleasure make 
 a musical or immusical sound by voluntary motion, 
 but the voice of man and birds. The cause is, no 
 doubt, in the weasand or wind-pipe, which we call 
 aspera artcria, whicli being well extended, gathercth 
 equality ; as a bladder that is wrinkled, if it be ex- 
 tended, becometh smooth. The extension is always 
 more in tones than in speech : therefore the inward 
 voice or whisper can never give a tone. And in
 
 CENT. II.] NATURAL HISTORY. 309 
 
 singing, there is, manifestly, a greater working and 
 labour of the throat, than in speaking ; as appeareth 
 in the thrusting out or drawing in of the chin, when 
 we sing. 
 
 175. The humming of bees is an unequal buzzing, 
 and is conceived by some of the ancients not to come 
 forth at their mouth, but to be an inward sound ; but, 
 it may be, it is neither ; but from the motion of their 
 wings : for it is not heard but when they stir. 
 
 176. All metals quenched in water give a sibila- 
 tion or hissing sound, which hath an affinity with the 
 letter Z, notwithstanding the sound be created be- 
 tween the water or vapour, and the air. Seething 
 also, if there be but small store of water in a vessel, 
 giveth a hissing sound ; but boiling in a full vessel 
 giveth a bubbling sound, drawing somewhat near to 
 the cocks used by children. 
 
 177. Trial would be made, whether the inequality 
 or interchange of the medium will not produce an in- 
 equality of sound ; as if three bells were made one 
 within another, and air betwixt each ; and then 
 the outermost bell were chimed with a hammer, how 
 the sound would differ from a simple bell. So like- 
 wise take a plate of brass, and a plank of wood, and 
 join them close together, and knock upon one of them, 
 and see if they do not give an unequal sound. So make 
 two or three partitions of wood in a hogshead, with 
 holes or knots in them ; and mark the difference of 
 their sound from the sound of an hogshead without 
 such partitions. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the more treble, and the 
 more base tones, or musical sounds, 
 
 178. It is evident, that the percussion of the greater 
 quantity of air causeth the baser sound ; and the less 
 quantity the more treble sound. The percussion of 
 the greater quantity of air is produced by tlie great- 
 ness of the body percussing ; by the latitude of the 
 concave by which the sound passeth ; and by the lon- 
 gitude of the same concave. Tliercfore we see that a 
 base string is greater than a treble ; a base pipe hath 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 310 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. II. 
 
 a greater bore than a treble ; and in pipes, and the 
 Hke, the lower the note-holes be, and the further off' 
 from the mouth of the pipe, the more base sound they 
 yield ; and the nearer the mouth, the more treble. 
 Nay more, if you strike an entire body, as an andiron 
 of brass, at the top, it maketh a more treble sound ; 
 and at the bottom a baser. 
 
 179. It is also evident, that the sharper or quicker 
 percussion of air causeth the more treble sound ; and 
 the slower or heavier, the more base sound. So we 
 see in strings; the more they are wound up and strained, 
 and thereby give a more quick start-back, the more 
 treble is the sound ; and the slacker they are, or less 
 wound up, the baser is the sound. And therefore a 
 bigger string more strained, and a lesser string less 
 strained, may fall into the same tone. 
 
 180. Children, women, eunuchs, have more small 
 and shrill voices than men. The reason is, not for that 
 men have greater heat, which may make the voice 
 stronger, for the strength of a voice or sound doth make 
 a difference in the loudness or softness, but not in the 
 tone, but from the dilatation of the organ ; which, it 
 is true, is likewise caused by heat. But the cause of 
 changing the voice at the years of puberty, is more 
 obscure. It seemeth to be, for that when much of 
 the moisture of the body, which did before irrigate 
 the parts, is drawn down to the spermatical vessels, it 
 leaveth the body more hot than it was ; whence 
 Cometh the dilatation of the pipes : for we see plainly 
 all effects of heat do then come on ; as pilosity, more 
 roughness of the skin, hardness of the flesh, etc. 
 
 181. The industry of the musician hath produced 
 two other means of straining or intension of strings, 
 besides their winding up. The one is the stopping of 
 the string with the finger ; as in the necks of lutes, 
 viols, etc. The other is the shortness of the string, as 
 in harps, virginals, etc. Both these have one and the 
 same reason; for they cause the string to give a quicker 
 start. 
 
 182. In the straining of a string, the further it is 
 strained, the less superstraining gocth to a note ; for
 
 CENT. II.] NATURAL HISTORY. 311 
 
 it requircth good winding of a string before it will 
 make any note at all : and in the stops of lutes, etc. 
 the liigher they go, the less distance is between the frets. 
 
 183. If you fill a drinking-glass with water, espe- 
 cially one sharp below, and wide above, and fillip upon 
 the brim or outside ; and after empty part of the wa- 
 ter, and so more and more, and still try the tone by 
 filliping ; you shall find the tone fall and be more base, 
 as the glass is more empty. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the proportion of treble 
 and base tones. 
 
 The just and measured proportion of the air per- 
 cussed, towards the baseness or trebleness of tones, is 
 one of the greatest secrets in the contemplation of 
 sounds. For it disco vereth the true coincidence of 
 tones into diapasons ; which is the return of the same 
 sound. And so of the concords and discords between 
 the unison and the diapason, which we have touched 
 before in the experiments of music ; but think fit to 
 resume it here as a principal part of our inquiry touch- 
 ing the nature of sounds. It may be found out in the 
 proportion of the winding of strings ; in the propor- 
 tion of the distance of frets ; and in the proportion of 
 the concave of pipes, etc. but most commodiously in 
 the last of these. 
 
 184. Try therefore the winding of a string once 
 about, as soon as it is brought to that extension as will 
 give a tone ; and then of twice about, and thrice about, 
 etc. and mark the scale or difference of the rise of the 
 tone : whereby you shall discover, in one, two effects ; 
 both the proportion of the sound towards the dimen- 
 sion of tlie winding ; and the proportion likewise of 
 the sound towards the string, as it is more or less 
 strained. But note that to measure this, the way 
 will be, to take the length in a right line of the string, 
 upon any winding about of the peg. 
 
 185. As for the stops, you are to take the number 
 of frets ; and principally the length of the line, from 
 the first stop of the string, unto such a stop as shall 
 
 X 2
 
 312 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. II. 
 
 produce a diapason to the former stop upon the same 
 strhig. 
 
 186. But it will best, as it is said, appear in the 
 bores of wind-instruments : and therefore cause some 
 half dozen pipes to be made, in length and all things 
 else alike, with a single, double, and so on to a sex- 
 tuple bore ; and so mark what fall of tone every one 
 giveth. But still in these three last instances, you 
 must diligently observe, what length of string, or dis- 
 tance of stop, or concave of air, maketh what rise of 
 sound. As in the last of these, which, as we said, is 
 that which giveth the aptest demonstration, you must 
 set down what increase of concave goeth to the making 
 of a note higher ; and what of two notes ; and what 
 of three notes ; and so up to the diapason : for then 
 the great secret of numbers and proportions will appear. 
 It is not unlike that those that make recorders, etc. 
 know this already : for that they make them in sets : 
 and likewise bell-founders, in fitting the tune of their 
 bells. So that inquiry may save trial. Surely it hath 
 been observed by one of the ancients, that an empty 
 baiTel knocked upon with the finger, giveth a diapa- 
 son to the sound of the like barrel full ; but how that 
 should be I do not well understand ; for that the 
 knocking of a barrel full or empty, doth scarce give 
 any tone. 
 
 187. There is required some sensible difference in 
 the proportion of creating a note, towards the sound 
 itself, which is the passive : and that it be not too 
 near, but at a distance. For in a recorder, the three 
 uppermost holes yield one tone ; which is a note lower 
 than the tone of the first three. And tlie like, no 
 doubt, is required in the winding or stopping of strings. 
 
 Experimenls in consort touching exterior and interior sounds. 
 
 There is another difference of sounds, which we will 
 call exterior and interior. It is not soft nor loud : nor 
 it is not base nor treble : nor it is not musical nor im- 
 musical : though it be true, that there can be no tone 
 in an interior sound ; but on the other side, in an ex- 
 terior sound there may be both musical and immusical
 
 CENT. II.] NATUJIAI, IlISTOllY. 313 
 
 Wc sliall tlicref'oio ciuiineratc them, rather than pre- 
 cisely distinguish them ; though, to make some adum- 
 bration of that wc mean, tlie interior is rather an 
 impulsion or contusion of the air, than an elision or 
 section of the same: so as the percussion of the one to- 
 wards the other dittereth as a blow differeth from 
 a cut. 
 
 188. In speech of man, the whispering, which they 
 call susun^us in Latin, whether it be louder or sof- 
 ter, is an interior sound ; but the speaking out is an 
 exterior sound ; and therefore you can never make 
 a tone, nor sing in whispering ; but in speech you 
 may : so breathing, or blowing by the mouth, bellows, 
 or wind, though loud, is an interior sound ; but the 
 blowing through a pipe or concave, though soft, is an 
 exterior. So likewise the greatest winds, if they have 
 no coarctation, or blow not hollow, give an interior 
 sound ; the whistling or hollow wind yieldeth a sing- 
 ing, or exterior sound ; the former being pent by some 
 other body ; the latter being pent in by its own den- 
 sity : and therefore we see, that when the wind blow- 
 eth hollow, it is a sign of rain. The flame, as it 
 movcth within itself or is blown by a bellows, giveth 
 a murmur or interior sound. 
 
 189- There is no hard body, but struck against an- 
 other hard body will yield an exterior sound greater 
 or lesser : insomuch as if the percussion be over-soft, 
 it may induce a nullity of sound ; but never an inte- 
 rior sound ; as when one treadeth so softly that he is 
 not heard. 
 
 190. Where the air is the percutient, pent or not 
 pent, against a hard body, it never giveth an exterior 
 sound ; as if you blow strongly with a bellows against 
 a wall. 
 
 191. Sounds, both exterior and interior, may be 
 made as well by suction as by emission of the breath : 
 as in whistling or breathing. 
 
 Experimejits in consort touching articulation of souvdf. 
 
 192. It is evident, and it is one of the strangest 
 secrets in sounds, that the whole sound is not in the
 
 314 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. II. 
 
 whole air only ; but the whole sound is also in every 
 small part of the air. So that all the curious diversity 
 of articulate sounds, of the voice of man or birds, will 
 enter at a small cranny inconfused. 
 
 193. The unequal agitation of the winds and the 
 like, though they be material to the carriage of the 
 sounds farther or less way ; yet they do not confound 
 the articulation of them at all, within that distance 
 that they can be heard ; though it may be, they make 
 them to be heard less way than in a still ; as hath 
 been partly touched. 
 
 194. Over-great distance confoundeth the articula- 
 tion of sounds ; as we see, that you may hear the sound 
 of a preacher's voice, or the like, when you cannot dis- 
 tinguish what he saith. And one articulate sound will 
 confound another, as when many speak at once. 
 
 195. In the experiment of speaking under water, 
 when the voice is reduced to such an extreme exility, 
 yet the articulate sounds, which are the words, are not 
 confounded, as hath been said. 
 
 196. I conceive, that an extreme small or an ex- 
 treme great sound cannot be articulate ; but that the 
 articulation requireth a mediocrity of sound : for that 
 the extreme small sound confoundeth the articulation 
 by contracting ; and the great sound by dispersing : 
 and although, as was formerly said, a sound articu- 
 late, already created, will be contracted into a small 
 cranny ; yet the first articulation requireth more di- 
 mension. 
 
 197. It hath been observed, that in a room, or in 
 a chapel, vaulted below and vaulted likewise in the 
 roof, a preacher cannot be heard so well, as in the like 
 places, not so vaulted. The cause is, for that the sub- 
 sequent words come on before the precedent words va- 
 nish : and therefore the articulate sounds are more con- 
 fused, though the gross of the sound be greater. 
 
 198. The motions of the tongue, lips, throat, pa- 
 late, etc. which go to the making of the several alpha- 
 betical letters, arc worthy inquiry, and pertinent to the 
 present inquisition of sounds : but because they are 
 subtle, and long to describe, wc will refer them over.
 
 CENT. II.] NATURAL HISTORY. 315 
 
 and place them amongst the experiments of speecli. 
 The Hebrews have been diligent in it, and have as- 
 signed which letters are labial, which dental, which 
 guttural, etc. As for the Latins and Grecians, they 
 have distinguished between semi-vowels and mutes ; 
 and in mutes between miitce tcmies, medicE, and aspi- 
 ratce ; not amiss, but yet not diligently enough. For 
 the special strokes and motions that create those 
 sounds, they have little inquired : as, that the letters 
 J5, P, F, iM, are not expressed, but with the contract- 
 ing or shutting of the mouth ; that the letters N and B, 
 cannot be pronounced but that the letter N will turn 
 into M ; as hecatonha will be hecatomba. That M 
 and T cannot be pronounced together, but P will come 
 between ; as emtus is pronounced emptus ; and a num- 
 ber of the like. So that if you inquire to the full, you 
 will find, that to the making of the whole alphabet 
 there will be fewer simple motions required than there 
 are letters. 
 
 199. The lungs are the most spungy part of the 
 body ; and therefore ablest to contract and dilate it- 
 self; and where it contractcth itself, it expelleth the 
 air; which through the artery, throat, and mouth, 
 m;iketh the voice : but yet articulation is not made 
 but wdth the help of the tongue, palate, and the rest 
 of those they call instruments of voice. 
 
 200. There is found a similitude between the sound 
 that is made by inanimate bodies, or by animate bo- 
 dies, that have no voice articulate, and divers letters 
 of articulate voices : and commonly men have given 
 such names to those sounds, as do allude unto the ar- 
 ticulate letters ; as trembling of water hath resem- 
 blance with the letter L; quenching of hot metals with 
 the letter Z ; snarling of dogs with the letter R ; tlie 
 noise of screech-owls with the letter Sh ; voice of cats 
 with the diphthong Eu ; voice of cuckows with the 
 diphthong On ; sounds of strings witli the letter Ng; 
 so that if a man, for curiosity or strangeness sake, 
 would make a puppet or other dead body to pronounce 
 a word, let him consider, on the one part, the motion
 
 316 NATUllAL HISTORY. [CENT. II. 
 
 of the instruments of voice ; and on the other part, 
 the like sounds made in inanimate bodies ; and what 
 conformity there is that causeth the similitude of 
 sounds; and by that he may minister light to that 
 effect.
 
 NMURAL HISTORY. 
 
 CENTURY III. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the motions of soimdsj in 
 what lines they are circular, oblique, straight, upivards, 
 doiunwards, forwards, hachvards. 
 
 201. All sounds whatsoever move round; that is 
 to say, on all sides ; upwards, downwards, forwards, 
 and backwards. This appeareth in all instances. 
 
 202. Sounds do not require to be conveyed to the 
 sense in a right line, as visibles do, but to be arched; 
 though it be true, they move strongest in a right line; 
 which nevertheless is not caused by the rightness of 
 the line, but by the shortness of the distance ; tinea 
 recta brevissima. And therefore we see if a wall be 
 between, and you speak on the one side, you hear it 
 on the other ; which is not because the sound passeth 
 through the wall, but archeth over the wall. 
 
 203. If the sound be stopped and repercussed, it 
 cometh about on the other side in an oblique line. So, 
 if in a coach one side of the boot be down, and the 
 other up, and a beggar beg on the close side ; you will 
 think that he were on the open side. So likewise, if 
 a bell or clock be, for example, on the north side of a 
 chamber, and the window of that chamber be upon the 
 south ; he that is in the chamber will think the sound 
 came from the south. 
 
 204. Sounds, though they spread round, so that 
 there is an orb or spherical area of the sound, yet they 
 move strongest, and go farthest in the fore-lines, from 
 the first local impulsion of the air. And therefore in 
 preaching, you shall hear the preacher's voice better 
 before the pulpit than behind it, or on the sides, though 
 it stnud open. So a liarijuebu.s, or ordnance, will be
 
 318 NATUKAL HISTOliY. [cENT. III. 
 
 farther heard forwards from the mouth of the piece, than 
 backwards, or on the sides. 
 
 205. It may be doubted, that sounds do move bet- 
 ter downwards than upwards. Pulpits are placed high 
 above the people. And when the ancient generals 
 spake to their armies, they had ever a mount of turf 
 cast up, whereupon they stood ; but this may be im- 
 puted to the stops and obstacles which the voice meet- 
 eth with, when one speaketh upon the level. But there 
 seemeth to be more in it ; for it may be that spiritual 
 species, both of things visible and sounds, do move 
 better downwards than upwards. It is a strange 
 thing, that to men standing below on the ground, 
 those that be on the top of Paul's seem much less than 
 they are, and cannot be known ; but to men above, 
 those below seem nothing so much lessened, and may 
 be known : yet it is true, that all things to them above 
 seem also somewhat contracted, and better collected 
 into figure : as knots in gardens shew best from an 
 upper window or terras. 
 
 206. But to make an exact trial of it, let a man 
 stand in a chamber not much above the ground, and 
 speak out at the window, through a trunk, to one 
 standing on the ground, as softly as he can, the other 
 laying his ear close to the irunk : then via versa, let 
 the other speak below, keeping the same proportion of 
 softness; and let him in the chamber lay his ear to the 
 trunk : and this may be the aptest means to make a 
 judgment, whether sounds descend or ascend better. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the lasting and perishing of 
 sounds ; and totiching the time they require to their gene- 
 ration or delation. 
 
 207. After that sound is created, which is in a mo- 
 ment, we find it continueth some small time, melting 
 by little and little. In this there is a wonderful error 
 amongst men, who take this to be a continuance of 
 the first sound; whereas, in truth, it is a renovation, 
 and not a continuance ; for tlie body percussed hath, 
 by reason of the percussion, a trepidation wrought in 
 the minute parts, and so reneweth tlie percussion of 
 the air. 'Vhis appeareth manifestly, because that the
 
 CENT. III.] NATURAL HISTORY. 319 
 
 melting sound of a bell, or of a string strucken, which 
 is thought to be a continuance, ceaseth as soon as the 
 bell or string are touched. As in a virginal, as soon 
 as ever the jack falleth, and toucheth the string, the 
 sound ceaseth ; and in a bell, after you have chimed 
 upon it, if you touch the bell, the sound ceaseth. 
 And in this you must distinguish that there are two 
 trepidations : the one manifest and local ; as of the 
 bell when it is pensile : the other secret, of the minute 
 parts ; such as is described in the ninth instance. 
 But it is true, that the local helpeth the secret greatly. 
 We see likewise that in pipes, and other wind-instru- 
 ments, the sound lasteth no longer than the breath 
 bloweth. It is true, that in organs there is a confused 
 murmur for a while after you have played ; but that 
 is but while the bellows are in falling. 
 
 208. It is certain, that in the noise of great ord- 
 nance, where many are shot off together, the sound 
 will be carried, at the least, twenty miles upon the 
 land, and much farther upon the water. But then it 
 will come to the ear, not in the instant of the shooting 
 off, but it will come an hour or more later. This 
 must needs be a continuance of the first sound ; for 
 there is no trepidation which should renew it. And 
 the touching of the ordnance would not extinguish 
 the sound the sooner : so that in great sounds the 
 continuance is more than momentany, 
 
 209. To try exactly the time wherein sound is de- 
 lated, let a man stand in a steeple, and have with him 
 a taper ; and let some vail be put before the taper ; 
 and let another man stand in the field a mile off. 
 Then let him in the steeple strike the bell ; and in 
 the same instant withdraw the vail ; and so let him in 
 the field tell by his pulse what distance of time there 
 is between the light seen, and the sound heard : for it 
 is certain that the delation of light is in an instant. 
 This may be tried in far greater distances, allowing 
 greater lights and sounds. 
 
 210. It is generally known and observed that light, 
 and the object of sight, move swifter than sound : for 
 we see the flash of a piece is seen sooner than the noise
 
 320 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. III. 
 
 is heard. And in hewing wood, if one be some distance 
 off, he shall see the arm lifted up for a second stroke, 
 before he hear the noise of the first. And the greater 
 the distance, the greater is the prevention : as we see 
 in thunder which is far off, where the lightning pre- 
 cedeth the crack a good space. 
 
 211. Colours, when they represent themselves to the 
 eye, fade not, nor melt not by degrees, but appear still 
 in the same strength ; but sounds melt and vanish by 
 little and little. The cause is, for that colours parti- 
 cipate nothing with the motion of the air, but sounds 
 do. And it is a plain argument, that sound partici- 
 pateth of some local motion of the air, as a cause sine 
 qua non, in that it perisheth so suddenly ; for in every 
 section or impulsion of the air, the air doth suddenly 
 restore and reunite itself; which the water also doth, 
 but nothing so swiftly. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the passage and interceptions 
 of' sounds. 
 
 In the trials of the passage, or not passage of sounds, 
 you must take heed you mistake not the passing by 
 the sides of a body, for the passing through a body ; 
 and therefore you must make the intercepting body 
 very close ; for sound will pass through a small chink. 
 
 212. Where sound passeth through a hard or close 
 body, as through water ; through a wall ; through me- 
 tal, as in hawks bells stopped, etc. the hard or close 
 body must be but thin and small ; for else it deadeth 
 and extinguisheth the sovmd utterly. And therefore 
 in the experiment of speaking in air under water, the 
 voice must not be very deep within the water : for then 
 the sound pierceth not. 8o if you speak on the far- 
 ther side of a close wall, if the wall be very thick you 
 shall not be heard ; and if there were an hogshead 
 empty, whereof the sides were some two foot thick, 
 and the bunghole stopped ; I conceive the resounding 
 sound, by the communication of the outward air with 
 the air within, would be little or none : but only you 
 shall hear the noise of the outward knock, as if the 
 vessel were full.
 
 CENT. III.] NATURAL HISTORY. 321 
 
 213. It is certain, that in the passage of sounds 
 through hard bodies the spirit or pneumatical part of 
 the hard body itself doth co-operate ; but much better 
 when the sides of that hard body are struck, than when 
 the percussion is only within, without touch of the sides. 
 Take therefore a hawk's bell, the holes stopped up, and 
 hang it by a thread within a bottle glass, and stop the 
 mouth of the glass very close with wax ; and then shake 
 the glass, and see whether the bell give any sound at 
 all, or how weak : but note, that you must instead of 
 the thread take a wire ; or else let the glass have a 
 great belly ; lest when you shake the bell, it dash upon 
 the sides of the glass. 
 
 214. It is plain, that a very long and downright arch 
 for the sound to pass, will extinguish the sound quite ; 
 so that that sound, which would be heard over a wall, 
 will not be heard over a church ; nor that sound, 
 which will be heard if you stand some distance from 
 the wall, will be heard if you stand close under the 
 wall. 
 
 215. Soft and foraminous bodies, in the first creation 
 of the sound, will dead it ; for the striking against 
 cloth or furr will make little sound ; as hath been said : 
 but in the passage of the sound, they ^vill admit it better 
 than harder bodies ; as we see, that curtains and hang- 
 ings will not stay the sound much ; but glass windows, 
 if they be very close, will check a sound more than the 
 like thickness of cloth. We see also in the rumbling 
 of the belly, how easily the sound passeth through the 
 guts and skin. 
 
 216. It is worthy the inquiry, whether great sounds, 
 as of ordnance or bells, become not more weak and exile 
 when they pass through small crannies. For the sub- • 
 tilties of articulate soiuids, it may be, may pass through 
 small crannies not confused ; but the magnitude of the 
 sound, perhaps, not so well. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the medium of sounds. 
 
 217. The mediums of sounds are air ; soft and porous 
 bodies ; also water. And hard bodies refuse not alto-
 
 322 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. III. 
 
 gether to be mediums of sounds. But all of them are 
 dull and unapt deferents, except the air. 
 
 218. In air, the thinner or drier air carrieth not the 
 sound so well as the more dense ; as appeareth in night 
 sounds and evening sounds, and sounds in moist wea- 
 ther and southern winds. The reason is already men- 
 tioned in the title of maj oration of sounds ; being for 
 that thin air is better pierced ; but thick air preserveth 
 the sound better from waste : let further trial be made 
 by hollowing in mists and gentle showers ; for, it may 
 be, that will somewhat dead the sound. 
 
 219. How far forth flame may be a medium of 
 sounds, especially of such sounds as are created by air, 
 and not betwixt hard bodies, let it be tried in speaking 
 where a bonfire is between ; but then you must allow 
 for some disturbance the noise that the flame itself 
 maketh. 
 
 220. Whether any other liquors, being made me- 
 diums, cause a diversity of sound from water, it may 
 be tried : as by the knapping of the tongs ; or striking 
 of the bottom of a vessel, filled either with milk or 
 with oil ; which though they be more light, yet arc 
 they more unequal bodies than air. 
 
 Of the natures of the mediums we have now spoken ; 
 as for the disposition of the said mediums, it doth con- 
 sist in the penning, or not penning of the air ; of which 
 we have spoken before in the title of delation of sounds: 
 it consistcth also in the figure of the concave through 
 which it passeth; of which we will speak next. 
 
 Experiments in consort, what the figures of the pipes, or con- 
 caves, or the bodies deferent, conduce to the sounds. 
 
 How the figures of pipes, or concaves, through which 
 sounds pass, or of othej- bodies deferent, conduce to the 
 variety and alteration of the sounds ; either in respect 
 of the greater quantity, or less quantity of air, which 
 the concaves receive ; or in respect of the carrying of 
 sounds longer and shorter way ; or in respect of many 
 other circumstances ; they have been touched, as fall- 
 ing into other titles. But those figures which we now 
 are to speak of, we intend to be, as they concern the
 
 CENT. III.] NATURAL HISTORY. 323 
 
 lines through which the sound passeth ; as straiglit, 
 crooked, angular, circular, &c. 
 
 221. The figure of a bell partaketh of the pyramis, 
 but yet coming off and dilating more suddenly. The 
 figure of a hunter's horn and cornet is oblique ; yet 
 they have likewise straight horns ; which, if they be 
 of the same bore with the oblique, differ little in sound, 
 save that the straight require somewhat a stronger 
 blast. The figures of recorders, and flutes, and pipes, 
 are straight ; but the recorder hath a less bore and a 
 greater, above and below. The trumpet hath the figure 
 of the letter S : which maketh that purling sound, &c. 
 Generally the straight line hath the cleanest and 
 roundest sound, and the crooked, the more hoarse and 
 jarring. 
 
 222. Of a sinuous pipe that may have some four 
 flexions, trial would be made. Likewise of a pipe 
 made like a cross, open in the midst. And so likewise 
 of an angular pipe : and see what will be the effects of 
 these several sounds. And so again of a circular pipe ; 
 as if you take a pipe perfect round, and make a hole 
 wherein to you shall blow, and another hole not far from 
 that ; but with a traverse or stop between them ; so 
 that your breath may go the round of the circle, and 
 come forth at the second hole. You may try likewise 
 percussions of solid bodies of several figures ; as globes, 
 flats, cubes, crosses, triangles, &c. and their combi- 
 nations, as flat against flat, and convex against convex, 
 and convex against flat, &c. and mark well the diversi- 
 ties of the sounds. Try also the difference in sound 
 of several crassitudes of hard bodies percussed ; and 
 take knowledge of the diversities of the sounds. I 
 myself have tried, that a bell of gold yieldeth an excel- 
 lent sound, not inferior to that of silver or brass, but 
 rather better : yet we see that a piece of money of 
 gold soundeth far more flat than a piece of money of 
 silver. 
 
 223. The harp hath the concave not along the 
 strings, but across the strings : and no instrument hath 
 the sound so melting and prolonged, as the Irish harp. 
 So as I suppose, that if a virginal were made with a
 
 S24 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. III. 
 
 double concave, the one all the length, as the virginal 
 hath ; the other at the end of the strings, as the harp 
 hath ; it must needs make the sound perfecter, and not 
 so shallow and jarring. You may try it without any 
 sound-board along, but only harp-wise at one end of the 
 strings ; or lastly, with a double concave, at each end 
 of the strings one. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the mixture of sounds. 
 
 224. There is an apparent diversity between the 
 species visible and audible in this, that the visible doth 
 not mingle in the medium, but the audible doth. For 
 if we look abroad, we see heaven, a number of stars, 
 trees, hills, men, beasts, at once. And the species of 
 the one doth not confound the other. But if so many 
 sounds came from several parts, one of them would 
 utterly confound the other. So we see, that voices or 
 consorts of music do make an harmony by mixture, 
 which colours do not. It is true nevertheless that a 
 great light drowneth a smaller, that it cannot be seen ; 
 as the sun that of a glow-worm ; as well as a great sound 
 drowneth a lesser. And I suppose likewise, that if there 
 were two lanthorns of glass, the one a crimson, and the 
 other an azure, and a candle within either of them, 
 those coloured lights would mingle, and cast upon a 
 white paper a purple colour. And even in colours, they 
 yield a faint and weak mixture : for white walls make 
 rooms more lightsome than black, etc. but the cause of 
 the confusion in sounds, and the inconfusion in species 
 visible, is, for that the sight workcth in right lines, and 
 maketh several cones ; and so there can be no coinci- 
 dence in the eye or visual point : but sounds, that move 
 in oblique and arcuate lines, must needs encounter and 
 disturb the one the other. 
 
 225. The sweetest and best harmony is, wlicn every 
 part or instrument is not heard by itself, but a confla- 
 tion of them all ; which requireth to stand some dis- 
 tance off, even as it is in the mixture of perfumes ; or 
 the taking of the smells of several flowers in the air. 
 
 226. The disposition of the air in other qualities, 
 except it be joined with sound, hath no great operation
 
 CENT, in.] NATURAT- HISTORY. 325 
 
 upon souiuls : for whctlier the air be liglitsome or dark, 
 hot or cold, quiet or stirring, except it he with noise, 
 sweet-smeUing, or stinking, or the like ; it importeth 
 not much ; some petty alteration or difference it may 
 make. 
 
 227. But sounds do disturb and alter the one the 
 other : sometimes tlie one drowning the other, and 
 making it not heard ; sometimes the one jarring and 
 discording with the other, and making a confusion ; 
 sometimes tlie one mingling and compounding with the 
 other, and making an harmony. 
 
 228. Two voices of like loudness will not be heard 
 twice as far as one of them alone ; and two candles of 
 like light will not make things seen twice as far off as 
 one. The cause is profound ; but it seemeth that the 
 impressions from the objects of the senses do mingle 
 respectively, every one with his kind ; but not in pro- 
 portion, as is before demonstrated : and the reason may 
 be, because the first impression, which is from privative 
 to active, as from silence to noise, or from darkness to 
 light, is a greater degree than from less noise to more 
 noise, or from less light to more light. And the reason 
 of that again may be, for that the air, after it hath 
 received a charge, doth not receive a surcharge, or 
 greater charge, with like appetite as it doth the first 
 charge. As for the increase of virtue, generally, what 
 proportion it beareth to the increase of the matter, it 
 is a large field, and to be handled by itself. 
 
 Experiments in consort toucliing melioration oj sounds. 
 
 229. AH reflexions concurrent do make sounds 
 greater ; but if the body that createth either the ori- 
 ginal sound, or the reflexion, be clean and smooth, it 
 maketh them sweeter. Trial may be made of a lute 
 or viol, with the belly of polished brass instead of wood. 
 We see that even in the open air, the wire-string is 
 sweeter than the string of guts. And we sec that for 
 reflexion water excelleth ; as in music near the water, 
 or in echos. 
 
 230. It hath been tried, that a pipe a little moist- 
 ened on the inside, but yet so as there be no drops left, 
 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 326 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. III. 
 
 maketli a more solemn sound, than if the pipe were dry ; 
 but yet with a sweet degree of sibilation or pm-liug ; 
 as we touched it before in the title of equality. The 
 cause is, for that all things porous being superficially 
 wet, and, as it were, between dry and wet, become a 
 little more even and smooth ; but the purling, which 
 must needs proceed of inequality, I take to be bred 
 between the smoothness of the inward surface of the 
 pipe, which is wet, and the rest of the wood of the pipe 
 unto which the wet cometh not, but it remaineth dry. 
 
 231. In frosty weather music within doors soundeth 
 better. Which may be by reason not of the disposi- 
 tion of the air, but of the wood or string of the instru- 
 ment, which is made more crisp, and so more porous 
 and hollow : and we see that old lutes sound better 
 than new for the same reason. And so do lute-strings 
 that have been kept long. 
 
 232. Sound is likewise meliorated by the mingling 
 of open air witli pent air ; therefore trial may be made 
 of a lute or viol with a double belly ; making another 
 belly with a k^iot over the strings ; yet so, as there be 
 room enough for the strings, and room enough to play 
 below that belly. Trial may be made also of an Irish 
 harp, with a concave on both sides ; whereas it useth 
 to have it but on one side. The doubt may be, lest it 
 should make too much resounding ; whereby one note 
 would overtake another. 
 
 233. If you sing in the hole of a drum, it maketh 
 the singing more sweet. And so I conceive it would, 
 if it were a song in parts sung into several drums ; 
 and for handsomeness and strangeness sake, it would 
 not be amiss to have a curtain between the place where 
 the drums are and the hearers. 
 
 234. When a sound is created in a wind instrument 
 between the breath and the air, yet if the sound be 
 commimicated with a more equal body of the pipe, 
 it meliorateth the sound. For, no doubt, there would 
 be a differing sound in a trumpet or pipe of wood ; 
 and again in a trumpet or ])ipc of brass. It were good 
 to try recorders and luuiters liorns of brass, what the 
 sound would be.
 
 CENT. III.] NATURAL HISTORY. 327 
 
 235. Sounds arc meliorated by the intension of tlic 
 sense, where the common sense is collected most to 
 the particular senseof hearing, and the sight suspended: 
 and therefore sounds are sweeter, as well as greater, in 
 the night than in the day ; and I suppose they are 
 sweeter to blind men than to others : and it is ma- 
 nifest, that between sleeping and waking, when all the 
 senses are bound and suspended, music is far sweeter 
 than when one is fully waking. 
 
 Experiments in consort louching the imitation of sounds. 
 
 236. It is a thing strange in nature when it is at- 
 tentively considered, how children, and some birds, 
 learn to imitate speech. Tliey take no mark at all of 
 the motion of the mouth of him that speaketh, for 
 birds are as well taught in the dark as by light. The 
 sounds of speech are very curious and exquisite : so 
 one would think it were a lesson hard to learn. It is 
 true that it is done with time, and by little and little, 
 and with many essays and proffers; but all this dis- 
 chargeth not the wonder. It would make a man think, 
 though this which we shall say may seem exceeding 
 strange, that there is some transmission of spirits ; and 
 that the spirits of the teacher put in motion sliould 
 work with the spirits of the learner a pre-disposition 
 to offer to imitate; and so to perfect the imitation by 
 degrees. But touching operations by transmissions of 
 spirits, w^hich is one of the highest secrets in nature, 
 we shall speak in due place ; cliiefly when we come 
 to inquire of imagination. But as for imitation, it is 
 certain, that there is in men and other creatures a 
 pre-disposition to imitate. We see how ready apes 
 and monkeys are to imitate all motions of man ; and 
 in the catching of dottrels, we see how the foolish bird 
 playeth the ape in gestures: and no man, in effect, doth 
 accompany with others, but he learneth, ere he is aware, 
 some gesture, or voice, or fashion of the other. 
 
 237- In imitation of sounds, that man should be 
 the teacher is no part of the matter ; for birds will 
 learn one of another ; and there is no reward by fecd- 
 
 V 2
 
 328 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. II f. 
 
 ing, or the like, given them for the imitation ; and be- 
 sides, you shall have parrots that will not only imitate 
 voices, but laughing, knocking, squeaking of a door 
 upon the hinges, or of a cart-wheel ; and, in effect, 
 any other noise they hear. 
 
 238. No beast can imitate the speech of man but 
 birds only ; for the ape itself, that is so ready to imitate 
 otherwise, attaineth not any degree of imitation of 
 speech. It is true that I have known a dog, that if 
 one howled in his ear, he would fall a howling a great 
 while. What should be the aptness of birds in com- 
 parison of beasts to imitate the speech of man, may 
 be further inquired. We see that beasts have those 
 • parts which they count the instruments of speech, as 
 lips, teeth, etc. liker unto man than birds. As for 
 the neck, by w^hich the throat passeth, we see many 
 beasts have it for the length as much as birds. What 
 better gorge or artery birds have, may be farther in- 
 quired. The birds that are known to be speakers, are 
 parrots, pies, jays, daws, and ravens. Of which parrots 
 have an adunque bill, but the rest not. 
 
 239- But I conceive, that the aptness of birds is not 
 so much in the conformity of the organs of speech, as 
 in their attention. For speech must come by hearing 
 and learning ; and birds give more heed, and mark 
 sounds more than beasts ; because naturally they are 
 more delighted witli them, and practise them more, as 
 appearcth in their singing. We see also, that those that 
 teach birds to sing, do keep them waking to increase 
 their attention. We see also, that cock birds amongst 
 singing birds are ever the better singers : which may 
 be because they arc more lively and listen more. 
 
 240. LaboTU- and intention to imitate voices, doth 
 conduce mucli to imitation : and therefore we see tliat 
 there be certain paiitomimi, that will represent the 
 voices of players of interludes so to life, as if you see 
 them not you would think they were those players them- 
 selves ; and so the voices of other men that they hear. 
 
 21<1. There have been some that coidd counterfeit 
 the distance of voices, which is a secondary object of 
 hearing, in such sort, as when they stand fast by you, 
 yon \v()ii](1 tiiink the speecli came from afar off, in a
 
 CENT. III.] NATURAL HISTORY. 329 
 
 fearful manner. How this is clone may be further 
 inquired. But I see no great use of it but for im- 
 posture, in counterfeiting ghosts or spirits. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the reflexion of sounds. 
 
 There be three kinds of reflexions of sounds ; a 
 reflexion concurrent, a reflexion iterant, which we call 
 echo ; and a super-reflexion, or an echo of an echo ; 
 whereof the first hath been handled in the title of mag- 
 nitude of sounds : the latter two we will now speak of. 
 
 249. The reflexion of species visible by mirrors you 
 may command ; because passing in right lines they 
 may be guided to any point : but the reflexion of 
 sounds is harder to master ; because the sound filling 
 great spaces in arched lines, cannot be so guided : 
 and therefore we see there hath not been practised any 
 means to make artificial echos. And no echo already 
 known returneth in a very narrow room. 
 
 243. The natural echos are made upon walls, woods, 
 rocks, hills, and banks ; as for waters, being near, they 
 make a concurrent echo; but being farther ofl^, as upon 
 a large river, they make an iterant echo: for there is no 
 difference between the concurrent echo and the iterant, 
 but the quickness or slowness of the return. But there 
 is no doubt but water doth help the delation of echo ; 
 as well as it helpeth tlic delation of original sounds. 
 
 244. It is certain, as hath been formerly touched, 
 that if you speak through a trunk stopped at the far- 
 ther end, you shall find a blast return upon your mouth, 
 but no sound at all. The cause is, for that the closeness 
 which preserveth the original, is not able to preserve 
 the reflected sound : besides that echos are seldom 
 created but by loud sounds. And therefore there is 
 less hope of artificial echos in air pent in a narrow 
 concave. Nevertheless it hath been tried, that one 
 leaning over a well of twenty-five fathom deep, and 
 speaking, though but softly, yet not so soft as a whis- 
 per, the water returned a good audible echo. It would 
 be tried whether speaking in caves, where there is no 
 issue, save where you sjieak, will not yield echos, as 
 wells do. 
 
 245. The echo cometh as the original sound doth.
 
 330 Natural history. [cent. hi. 
 
 ill a round orb of air : it were good to try the creating 
 of the echo where the body reperciissiug maketh an 
 angle : as against the return of a wall, etc. Also we 
 see that in mirrors there is the like angle of incidence, 
 from the object to the glass, and from the glass to the 
 eye. And if you strike a ball side-long, not full upon the 
 surface^ the rebound will be as much the contrary way : 
 whether there be any such resilience in echos, that 
 is, whether a man shall hear better if he stand aside the 
 body repercussing, than if he stand where he speaketh, 
 or any where in a right line between, may be tried. 
 Trial likewise would be made by standing nearer the 
 place of repercussing, than he tliat speaketh ; and again 
 by standing farther off than he that speaketh ; and so 
 knowledge would be taken, whether echos, as well as 
 original sounds, be not strongest near hand. 
 
 246. There be many places where you shall hear 
 a number of echos one after another : and it is when 
 there is variety of hills or woods, some nearer, some 
 farther off: so that tlie return from the farther, being- 
 last created, will be likewise last heard. 
 
 247. As the voice goeth round, as well towards the 
 back, as towards the front of him that speaketh ; so 
 likewise doth the echo : for you have many back echos 
 to the place where you stand. 
 
 248. To make an echo that will report three, or four, 
 or five words distinctly, it is requisite that the body 
 repercussing be a good distance off: for if it be near, 
 and yet not so near as to make a concurrent echo, it 
 choppeth with you upon the sudden. It is requisite 
 likewise that the air be not much pent : for air at a 
 great distance pent, worketh the same effect with air 
 at large in a small distance. And tlicrefore in the 
 trial of speaking in the well, though the well was deep, 
 the voice came back suddenly, and would bear the 
 report but of two w^ords. 
 
 249- For echos upon echos, there is a rare instance 
 thereof in a place which I will now exactly describe. 
 It is some three or four miles from Paris, near a town 
 called Pont-Charenton ; and some biid-bolt shot or 
 more from the river of Scin. The room is a chapel or
 
 CKNT. IH.J NATURAL HISTORY. 331 
 
 small church. The walls all standing, both at the 
 sides and at the ends. Two rows of pillars, after the 
 manner of isles of churches, also standing ; the roof all 
 open, not so much as any embowment near any of the 
 walls left. There was against every pillar a stack of 
 billets above a man's height ; which the watermen that 
 bring wood down the Sein in stacks, and not in boats, 
 laid there, as it seemeth, for their ease. Speaking at 
 the one end, I did hear it return the voice thirteen 
 several times ; and I have heard of others, that it 
 would return sixteen times : For I was there about 
 three of the clock in the afternoon : and it is best, as 
 all other echos are, in the evening. It is manifest 
 that it is not echos from several places, but a tossing 
 of the voice, as a ball, to and fro ; like to reflexions 
 in looking-glasses, where if you place one glass before 
 and another behind, you shall see the glass behind 
 with the image, within the glass before ; and again, 
 the glass before in tliat ; and divers such super-re- 
 flexions, till the species speciei at last die. For it is 
 every return weaker and more shady. In like man- 
 ner the voice in that chapel createth specitm speciei, 
 and maketh succeeding super-reflexions; for it melteth 
 by degrees, and every reflexion is weaker than the 
 former : so that if you speak three words, it will, per- 
 haps, some three times report you the whole three 
 words ; and then the two latter words for some times; 
 and then the last word alone for some times ; still 
 fading and growing weaker. And whereas in echos 
 of one return, it is much to hear four or five words ; 
 in this echo of so many returns upon the matter, you 
 hear above twenty words for three. 
 
 250. The like echo upon echo, but only with two 
 reports, hath been observed to be, if you stand between 
 a house and a hill, and lure towards the hill. For the 
 house will give a back echo ; one taking it from the 
 other, and the latter the weaker. 
 
 2.51. There are certain letters that an echo will 
 hardly express ; as S for one, especially being princi- 
 pal in a word. I remember well, that when I went 
 to the echo at Pont-Charenton, there was an old Pa-
 
 332 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. III. 
 
 risiaii, that took it to be work of spirits, and of good 
 spirits. For, said he, call Satan, and the echo will 
 not deliver back the devil's name ; but will say, "oa 
 t^en ; which is as much in French as apage, or avoid. 
 And thereby I did hap to find, that an echo would 
 not return S, being but a hissing and an interior sound. 
 
 252. Echos are some more sudden, and chop again 
 as soon as the voice is delivered ; as hatli been partly 
 said : others are more deliberate, that is, give more 
 gpacc between tlic voice and the echo ; which is caused 
 by the local nearness or distance : some will report a 
 longer train of words, and some a sliorter ; some more 
 loud, full as loud as the original, and sometimes more 
 loud, and some weaker and fainter. 
 
 253. Where echos come from several j)arts at the 
 same distance, they must needs make, as it were, a 
 choir of echos, and so make the report greater, and even 
 a continued echo ; which you shall iind in some hills 
 that stand encompassed theatre-like. 
 
 254<. It doth not yet appear that there is refraction 
 in sounds, as well as in species visible. For I do not 
 think, that if a sound should pass througli divers me- 
 diums, as air, cloth, wood, it would deliver the sound 
 in a different place from that unto which it is defer- 
 red ; wliich is the proper effect of refraction. But 
 majoration, which is also the work of refraction, ap- 
 peareth plainly in sounds, as hath been handled at full, 
 but it is not by diversity of mediums. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the consent and dissent 
 between visibles and audiblcs. 
 
 We have obiter, for demonstration's sake, used in 
 divers instances the examples of the sight and things 
 visible, to illustrate the nature of sounds : but we think 
 good now to prosecute that comparison more fully. 
 
 Consent of visibhs and audih/es. 
 
 255. Both of them sj)read then)selves in round, and 
 fill a whole floor or orb unto certain limits ; and are 
 carried a great way : and do languish and lessen by
 
 CENT. III.] NATURAL HISTOllY. 333 
 
 degrees, according to tlie distance of the objects from 
 the sensories. 
 
 256. Both of them have the wliole species in every 
 small portion of the air, or medium, so as tlie species 
 do pass through small crannies without confusion : as 
 we see ordinarily in levels, as to the eye ; and in cran- 
 nies or chinks, as to the sound. 
 
 257. Both of them are of a sudden and easy gene- 
 ration and delation ; and likewise perish swiftly and 
 suddenly ; as if you remove the light, or touch the 
 bodies that give the sound. 
 
 258. }5oth of them do receive and carry exquisite 
 and accurate differences ; as of colours, figures, motions, 
 distances, in visibles ; and of articulate voices, tones, 
 songs, and quaverings, in audibles. 
 
 529. Both of them, in their virtue and working, do 
 not appear to emit any corporal substance into their 
 mediums, or the orb of their virtue ; neither again to 
 raise or stir any evident local motion in their medi- 
 ums as they pass ; but only to carry certain spiritual 
 species ; the perfect knowledge of the cause whereof, 
 being hitherto scarcely attained, we shall search and 
 handle in due place. 
 
 260. Both of them seem not to generate or produce 
 any other effect in nature, but such as appertaineth to 
 theirproper objcctsand senses, and are otherwise barren. 
 
 261. But both of them, in their own proper action, 
 do work three manifest effects. The first, in that the 
 stronger species drowneth the lesser ; as the light of 
 the sun, the light of a glow-worm ; the report of an 
 ordnance, the voice : The second, in that an object of 
 surcharge or excess destroyetli the sense ; as the light 
 of the sun, the eye ; a violent sound near the ear, the 
 hearing : The third, in that both of them will be re- 
 verberate ; as in mirrors, and in echos. 
 
 262. Neither of them doth destroy or hinder the 
 species of the other, although they encounter in the 
 same medium ; as light or colour hinder not sound, 
 nor e contra. 
 
 263. Both of them affect the sense in living crea- 
 tures, and yield objects of pleasure and dislike : yet
 
 334 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. III. 
 
 iievertlieless the objects of them do also, if it be well 
 observed, affect and work upon dead things ; namely, 
 such as have some conformity with the organs of the 
 two senses; as visibles work upon a looking-glass, which 
 is like the pupil of the eye ; and audibles upon the 
 places of echo, which resemble in some sort the cavern 
 and structure of the ear. 
 
 264. Both of them do diversly work, as they have 
 their medium diversly disposed. So a trembling me- 
 dium, as smoke, maketh the object seem to tremble, 
 and a rising or falling medium, as winds, maketh the 
 sounds to rise or fall. 
 
 265. To both, the medium, which is the most pro- 
 pitious and conducible, is air ; for glass or water, etc. 
 are not comparable. 
 
 266. In both of them, where the object is fine and 
 accurate, it conduceth much to have the sense inten- 
 tive and erect ; insomuch as you contract your eye 
 when you would see sharply ; and erect your car when 
 you would hear attentively ; which in beasts that have 
 ears moveable is most manifest. 
 
 267- The beams of light, when they are multiplied 
 and conglomerate, generate heat ; which is a different 
 action from the action of sight : and the multiplication 
 and conglomeration of sounds doth generate an extreme 
 rarefaction of the air ; wliicli is an action materiate, 
 differing from the action of sound ; if it be true, 
 which is anciently reported, that birds with great 
 shouts have fallen down. 
 
 Dissents of visibles and audibles. 
 
 268. The species of visibles seem to be emissions 
 of beams from the objects seen, almost like odours, 
 save that they are more incorporeal : but tlie species 
 of audibles seem to particii)ate more with local motion, 
 like percussions, or imjiressions made upon the air. 
 So that whereas all bodies do seem to work in two 
 manners, either by the communication of tlicir natiues, 
 or by tlie impressions and signatures of their motions ; 
 the diffusion of species visible seemeth to participate
 
 CENT. III.] NATURAL HISTORY. 335 
 
 more of the former operation, aiul the species audible 
 of the latter. 
 
 269. The species of aiulibles seem to be carried 
 more manifestly through the air than the species of 
 visibles : for I conceive that a contrary strong wind 
 will not much hinder the sight of visibles, as it will 
 do the hearing of sounds. 
 
 270. There is one difference above all others be- 
 tween visibles and audibles, that is the most remark- 
 able, as that whereupon many smaller differences do 
 depend : namely, that visibles, except lights, are car- 
 ried in right lines, and audibles in arcuate lines. Hence 
 it Cometh to pass, tliat visibles do not intermingle and 
 confound one another, as hath been said before ; but 
 sounds do. Hence it cometh, that the solidity of bo- 
 dies doth not much hinder the sight, so that the bo- 
 dies be clear, and the pores in a right line, as in glass, 
 crystal, diamonds, water, etc. but a thin scarf or hand- 
 kerchief, though they be bodies nothing so solid, hin- 
 der the sight : whereas, contrariwise, these porous bo- 
 dies do not much hinder the hearing, but solid bodies 
 do almost stop it, or at the least attenuate it. Hence 
 also it cometh, that to the reflexion of visibles small 
 glasses suffice ; but to the reverberation of audibles 
 are required greater spaces, as hath likewise been said 
 before. 
 
 271. Visibles are seen farther off than sounds are 
 heard ; allowing nevertheless the rate of their bigness; 
 for otherwise a great sound will be heard farther off 
 than a small body seen. 
 
 272. Visibles require, generally, some distance be- 
 tween the object and the eye, to be better seen; whereas 
 in audibles, the nearer the approach of the sound is 
 to the sense, the better. But in this there may be 
 a double error. The one, because to seeing there is 
 required light ; and any thing that touchcth the pupil 
 of the eye all over excludeth the light. For I have 
 heard of a person very credible, who himself was cured 
 of a cataract in one of his eyes, that while the silver 
 needle did work upon the sight of his eye, to remove 
 the lilm of the cataract, he never saw any thing more
 
 336 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. III. 
 
 clear or perfect than that white needle : which, no 
 doubt, was, because the needle was lesser than the 
 pupil of the eye, and so took not the light from it. 
 The other error may be, for that the object of sight 
 doth strike upon the pupil of the eye directly without 
 any interception ; whereas the cave of the car doth 
 hold off the sound a little from the organ : and so 
 nevertheless there is some distance required in both. 
 
 273. Visibles are swiftlier carried to the sense than 
 audibles; as appeareth in thunder and lightning, flame 
 and report of a piece, motion of the air in hewing of 
 wood. AH which have been set down heretofore, but 
 are proper for this title. 
 
 274. I conceive also, that the species of audibles do 
 hang longer in the air than those of visibles : for al- 
 though even those of visibles do hang some time, as 
 we see in rings turned, that shew like spheres; in lute- 
 strings filliped ; a fire-brand carried along, which 
 leaveth a train of light behind it ; and in the twilight ; 
 and the like : yet I conceive that sounds stay longer, 
 because they are carried up and down with the wind; 
 and because of the distance of the time in ordnance 
 discharged, and heard twenty miles off. 
 
 275. In visibles there are not found objects so odi- 
 ous and ingrate to the sense as in audibles. For foul 
 sights do rather displease, in that they excite the me- 
 mory of foul things, than in the immediate objects. And 
 therefore in pictures, those foul sights do not much 
 
 V offend ; but in audibles, the grating of a saw, when it 
 
 is sharpened, doth offend so much, as it setteth the 
 teeth on edge. And any of the harsh discords in mu- 
 sic the car doth straightways refuse. 
 
 276. In visibles, after great light, if you come sud- 
 denly into tlic dark, or contrariwise, out of the dark 
 into a glaring light, the eye is dazzled for a time, and 
 the sight confused ; but whether any such effect be 
 after great sounds, or after a deep silence, may be bet- 
 ter inquired. It is an old tradition, that those that 
 dwell near the cataracts of Nilus, are strucken deaf: 
 but we find no such effect in cannoniers, nor millers, 
 nor those tliat dwell upon bridges.
 
 CENT. III.] NATUHAL HISTORY. 337 
 
 277. It scemcth tliat the impression of colour is so 
 weak, as it worketh not but by a cone of direct beams, 
 or riglit lines, whereof the basis is in the object, and 
 the vertical point in the eye ; so as there is a corra- 
 diation and conjunction of beams ; and those beams 
 so sent forth, yet are not of any force to beget the like 
 borrowed or second beams, except it be by reflexion, 
 whereof we speak not. For the beams pass, and give 
 little tincture to that air which is adjacent ; which if 
 they did, we should see colours out of a right line. But 
 as this is in colours, so otherwise it is in the body of 
 light. For when there is a skreen between the can- 
 dle and the eye, yet the light passeth to the paper 
 whereon one writeth ; so that the light is seen where 
 the body of the flame is not seen, and where any co- 
 lour, if it were placed where the body of the flame is, 
 would not be seen. I judge that sound is of this lat- 
 ter nature ; for when two are placed on both sides of 
 a wall, and the voice is heard, I judge it is not only 
 the original sound which passeth in an arched line ; 
 but the sound which passeth above the wall in a right 
 line, bcgetteth the like motion round about it as the 
 first did, though more weak. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the sympathy oi' antipathy 
 of sojinds 07ie with another. 
 
 278. All concords and discords of music are, no 
 doubt, sympathies and antipathies of sounds. And 
 so, likewise, in that music which we call broken mu- 
 sic, or consort music, some consorts of instruments are 
 sweeter than others, a thing not sufficiently yet ob- 
 served : as the Irish harp and base viol agree well : 
 the recorder and stringed music agree well : organs 
 and the voice agree well, etc. But the virginals and 
 the lute ; or the Welsh harp and Irish harp ; or the 
 voice and pipes alone, agree not so well : but for the 
 melioration of music, there is yet much left, in this 
 point of exquisite consorts, to try and inquire. 
 
 279- There is a common observation, that if a lute 
 or viol be laid upon the back, with a small straw upon 
 one of the strings ; and another lute or viol be laid
 
 338 l^ATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. III. 
 
 by it ; and in the other lute or vio' the unison to that 
 string be strucken, it will make the string move ; which 
 will appear both to the eye, and by the straw's falling 
 off. The like will be, if the diapason or eighth to that 
 string be strucken, either in the same lute or viol, or 
 in others lying by : but in none of these there is any 
 report of sound that can be discerned, but only motion. 
 
 280. It was devised, that a viol should have a lay 
 of wire-strings below, as close to the belly as a lute ; 
 and then the strings of guts mounted upon a bridge 
 as in ordinary viols ; to the end that by this means 
 the upper strings strucken should make the lower re- 
 sound by sympathy, and so make the music the better ; 
 wliich if it be to purpose, then sympathy worketh as 
 well by report of sound as by motion. But this de- 
 vice I conceive to be of no use, because the upper 
 strings, which are stopped in great variety, cannot 
 maintain a diapason or unison with the lower, which 
 are never stopped. But if it should be of use at all, it 
 must be in instruments which have no stops, as virgi- 
 nals and harps ; wherein trial may be made of two 
 rows of strings, distant the one from the other. 
 
 281. The experiment of sympathy may be trans- 
 ferred, perhaps, from instruments of strings to other 
 instruments of sound. As to try, if there were in one 
 steeple two bells of unison, whether the striking of 
 the one would move the other, more than if it were 
 another accord : and so in pipes, if they be of equal bore 
 and sound, whether a little straw or feather would move 
 in the one pipe, when the other is blown at an unison. 
 
 282. It seemeth, both in ear and eye, the instru- 
 ment of sense hath a sympathy or similitude with that 
 which giveth the reflection, as hath been touched be- 
 fore : for as the sight of the eye is like a crystal, or 
 glass, or water ; so is the car a sinuous cave, with a 
 hard bone to stop and reverberate the sound : which 
 is like to the places that report echos. 
 
 Ex/jerbnents in consort touching the hindering or helping 
 ojthe hearing. 
 
 283. When a man yawneth, he cannot hear so 
 well. Tlic cause is, for that the membrane of the ear
 
 CENT. III.] NATURAI, HISTORY. 339 
 
 is extended ; and so rather casteth off the sound 
 than draweth it to. 
 
 284. We hear better when we hold our brcatli tlian 
 contrary : insomuch as in all listening to attain a sound 
 afar off men hold their breath. The cause is, for that 
 in all expiration tlie motion is outwards; and there- 
 fore rather driveth away the voice than draweth it: and 
 besides we see, that in all labour to do things with any 
 strength, we hold the breath ; and listening after any 
 sound that is heard with difficulty, is a kind of labour. 
 
 285. Let it be tried, for the help of the hearing, 
 and I conceive it likely to succeed, to make an in- 
 strument like a timnel ; the narrow part whereof may 
 be of the bigness of the hole of the ear ; and tlie 
 broader end much larger, like a bell at the skirts ; 
 and tlie length half a foot or more. And let the nar- 
 row end of it be set close to the ear : and mark whe- 
 ther any sound, abroad in the open air, will not be heard 
 distinctly from farther distance, than without that in- 
 strument ; being, as it were, an ear-spectacle. And 
 I liave heard there is in Spain an instrument in use 
 to be set to the ear, that helpeth somewhat those that 
 are thick of hearing. 
 
 28(). If the mouth be shut close, nevertheless there 
 is yielded by the roof of the mouth a murmur ; such 
 as is used by dumb men. But if the nostrils be like- 
 wise stopped, no such murmur can be made : except 
 it be in the bottom of the palate towards the throat. 
 Whereby it appeareth manifestly that a sound in the 
 mouth, except such as aforesaid, if the mouth be 
 stopped, passeth from the palate through the nostrils. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the spiritual andjine nattire 
 of sounds. 
 
 287. The repercussion of sounds, which we call echo, 
 is a great argument of the spiritual essence of sounds. 
 For if it were corporeal, the repercussion should be 
 created in the same manner, and by like instruments, 
 with the original sound : but we see what a number 
 of exquisite instruments must concur in speaking of 
 words, whereof there is no such matter in the return- 
 ing of them, but only a })laiu stop and repercussion.
 
 340 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. III. 
 
 288. The exquisite differences of articulate sounds, 
 carried along in tlie air, shew that they cannot be 
 signatures or impressions in the air, as hath been well 
 refuted by the ancients. For it is true, that seals 
 make excellent impressions ; and so it may be thought 
 of sounds in their first generation : bvit then the dela- 
 tion and continuance of them without any new sealing, 
 shew apparently they cannot be impressions. 
 
 '289. All sounds are suddenly made, and do sud- 
 denly perish : but neither that, nor the exquisite dif- 
 ferences of them, is matter of so great admiration : for 
 the quaverings and warblings in lutes and pipes are as 
 swift ; and the tongue, which is no very fine instru- 
 ment, doth in speech make no fewer motions than 
 there be letters in all the words which are uttered. 
 But that sounds should not only be so speedily gene- 
 rated, but carried so far every way in such a monient- 
 any time, deserveth more admiration. As for exam- 
 ple, if a man stand in the middle of a field and speak 
 aloud, he shall be heard a furlong in round ; and 
 that shall be in articulate sounds ; and those shall be 
 entire in every little portion of the air ; and this shall 
 be done in the space of less than a minute. 
 
 290. The sudden generation and perishing of 
 sounds, must be one of these two ways. Either that 
 the air suffereth some force by sound, and then 
 restoreth itself, as water doth ; which being divided 
 maketh many circles, till it restore itself to the natural 
 consistence : or otherwise, that the air doth willingly 
 imbibe the sound as grateful, but cannot maintain it ; 
 for that the air hath, as it should seem, a secret and 
 hidden appetite of receiving the sound at the first ; 
 but then other gross and more materiate qualities of the 
 air straightways suffocate it ; like unto fiame, which 
 is generated with alacrity, but straight quenched by 
 the enmity of the air or other ambient bodies. 
 
 There be these differences in general, by whicii 
 sounds are divided : 1. JMusical, immusical. 2. Tre- 
 ble, base. a. Flat, sharp. 4. Soft, loud. 5. Exte- 
 rior, interior. 6. Clean, harsh, or purling. 7. Arti- 
 culate, inarticulate.
 
 CENT. III.] NATURAL HISTORY. 341 
 
 We have laboured, as may appear, in this inquisi- 
 tion of sounds diligently ; both because sound is one 
 of the most hidden portions of nature, as we said in 
 the beginning, and because it is a virtue which may 
 be called incorporeal and imniateriate ; Avhereof there 
 be in nature but few. Besides, we were willing, now 
 in these our first centuries, to make a pattern or pre- 
 cedent of an exact inquisition ; and we shall do the 
 like hereafter in some other subjects which require it. 
 For we desire that men should learn and perceive, 
 how severe a thing the true inquisition of nature is ; 
 and should accustom themselves by the light of par- 
 ticulars to enlarge their minds to the amplitude of the 
 world, and not reduce the world to the narrowness of 
 their minds. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the orient colours in dissolution 
 of metals. 
 
 291. Metals give orient and fine colours in dis- 
 solutions ; as gold giveth an excellent yellow ; quick- 
 silver an excellent green ; tin giveth an excellent 
 azure : likewise in their putrefactions or rusts ; as 
 Vermillion, verdigrease, bise, cirrus, etc. and likewise 
 in their vitrifications. The cause is, for that by their 
 strength of body they are able to endure the fire or 
 strong waters, and to be put into an equal posture ; 
 and again to retain part of their principal spirit : which 
 two things, equal posture and quick spirits, are re- 
 quired chiefly to make colours lightsome. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching prolongation of life. 
 
 292. It conduceth unto long life, and to the more 
 placid motion of the spirits, which thereby do less prey 
 and consume the juice of the body, either that mens 
 actions be free and voluntary, that nothing be done 
 iiwita Minerva^ but secundum genium ; or on the 
 other side, that the actions of men be full of regulation 
 and commands \vithin themselves: for then the victory 
 and performing of the command giveth a good disposi- 
 tion to the spirits ; especially if there be a proceeding 
 
 VOL. I. z
 
 342 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. III. 
 
 from degree to degree ; for then the sense of the vic- 
 tory is the greater. An example of the former of these 
 is in a country life ; and of the latter in monks and phi- 
 losophers, and such as do continually enjoy themselves. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching appetite of union in bodies. 
 
 293. It is certain that in all bodies there is an 
 appetite of union, and evitation of solution of conti- 
 nuity : and of this appetite there be many degrees ; 
 but the most remarkable and fit to be distinguished 
 are three. The first in liquors ; the second in hard 
 bodies ; and the third in bodies cleaving or tenacious. 
 In liquors this appetite is weak : we see in liquors, 
 the threading of them in stillicides, as hath been said ; 
 the falling of them in round drops, which is the form 
 of union ; and the staying of them for a little time in 
 bubbles and froth. In the second degree or kind, this 
 appetite is strong ; as in iron, in stone, in wood, etc. 
 In the third, this appetite is in a medium between 
 the other two : for such bodies do partly follow the 
 toucli of another body, and partly stick and continue 
 to themselves ; and therefore they rope, and draw 
 themselves in threads ; as we see in pitch, glue, bird- 
 lime, etc. But note, that all solid bodies are cleaving 
 more or less : and that they love better the touch of 
 somewhat that is tangible, than of air. For water in 
 small quantity cleaveth to any thing that is solid : and 
 so would metal too, if the weight drew it not off. And 
 therefore gold foliate, or any metal foliate, cleaveth : but 
 those bodies which are noted to be clammy and cleav- 
 ing, are such as have a more indifferent appetite at once 
 to follow another body, and to hold to themselves. And 
 therefore they are commonly bodies ill mixed; and which 
 take more pleasure in a foreign body, than in preserv- 
 ing their own consistence ; and which have little pre- 
 dominance in drought or moisture. 
 
 Experiments solitary touching the like operations of 
 Iicat and time. 
 
 294. Time and heat are fellows in many effects. 
 Heat drieth bodies that do easily expire ; as parch-
 
 CENT. III.] NATURAL HISTORY. ,343 
 
 meiit, leaves, roots, clay, etc. And so doth time or age 
 arefy ; as in the same bodies, etc. Heat dissolveth and 
 meltcth bodies that keep in their spirits; as in divers 
 liquefactions: and so dotli time in some bodies of a 
 softer consistence, as is manifest in honey, which by 
 age waxeth more liquid, and the like in sugar ; and 
 so in old oil, which is ever more clear and more hot in 
 medicinable use. Heat causeth the spirits to search 
 some issue out of the body ; as in the volatility of me- 
 tals ; and so doth time ; as in the rust of metals. But 
 generally heat doth that in small time which age doth 
 in long. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the differing operations of 
 fire and time. 
 
 295. Some things which pass the fire are softest at 
 first, and by time grow hard, as the crumb of bread. 
 Some are harder when they come from the fire, and 
 afterwards give again, and grow soft, as the crust of 
 bread, bisket, sweetmeats, salt, etc. The cause is, 
 for that in those things which wax hard with time, 
 the work of the fire is a kind of melting; and in those 
 that wax soft with time, contrariwise, the work of 
 the fire is a kind of baking ; and whatsoever the fire 
 baketh, time doth in some degree dissolve. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching motions by imitation. 
 
 296. Motions pass from one man to another, not 
 so much by exciting imagination as by invitation ; 
 especially if there be an aptness or inclination before. 
 Therefore gaping, or yawning, and stretching do pass 
 firom man to man ; for that that causeth gaping and 
 stretching is, when tlic spirits are a little heavy by any 
 vapour, or the like. For then they strive, as it were, 
 to wring out and expel that which loadeth them. So 
 men drowsy, and desirous to sleep, or before the fit 
 of an ague, do use to yawn and stretch ; and do like- 
 wise yield a voice or sound, which is an interjection 
 of expulsion : so that if another be apt and prepared 
 to do the like, he followeth by the sight of another. 
 So the laughing of another maketh to laugh. 
 
 z 2
 
 344 NATURAL HISTORY. [cENT. III. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching infectious diseases. 
 
 297. There be some known diseases that are infec- 
 tious ; and others that are not. Those that are in- 
 fectious are, first, such as are chiefly in the spirits, and 
 not so much in the humours ; and therefore pass easily 
 from body to body ; such are pestilences, lippitudes, 
 and such like. Secondly, such as taint the breath, 
 which we see passeth manifestly from man to man ; and 
 not invisibly, as the affects of the spirits do ; such are 
 consumptions of the lungs, etc. Thirdly, such as 
 come forth to the skin, and therefore taint the air or 
 the body adjacent ; especially if they consist in an 
 unctuous substance not apt to dissipate ; such are scabs 
 and leprosy. Fourthly, such as are merely in the 
 humours, and not in the spirits, breath, or exhalations ; 
 and therefore they never infect but by touch only ; and 
 such a touch also as cometh within the epidermis ; as 
 the venom of the French pox, and the biting of a 
 mad dog. 
 
 Experiment solitarTj touching the incorporation of poivders 
 and liquors. 
 
 298. Most powders grow more close and coherent 
 by mixture of water, than by mixture of oil, though 
 oil be the thicker body ; as meal, etc. The reason is 
 the congruity of bodies ; which if it be more, maketh a 
 perfecter imbibition and incorporation ; which in most 
 powders is more between them and water, than between 
 them and oil ; but painters colours ground, and ashes, 
 do better incorporate with oil. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching exercise (ft fie body. 
 
 299. Much motion and exercise is good for some 
 bodies ; and sitting and less motion for others. If the 
 body be hot and void of superfluous moistures, too 
 much motion hurtcth : and it is an erior in physicians, 
 to call too much upon exercise. Likewise men ought 
 to beware, that they use not exercise and a spare diet 
 both : but if much exercise, then a plentiful diet ; 
 and if sparing diet, then little exercise. The benefits 
 that come of exercise are, first, that it sendeth nourish-
 
 CENT. III.] NATURAL HISTORY. 345 
 
 meiit into the parts more forcibly. Secondly, that it 
 helpeth to excern by sweat, and so maketh the parts 
 assimilate the more perfectly. Thirdly, that it maketh 
 the substance of the body more solid and compact ; 
 and so less apt to be consumed and depredated by the 
 spirits. Tlie evils that come of exercise are, first, that 
 it maketh the spirits more hot and predatory. Second- 
 ly, that it doth absorb likewise, and attenuate too 
 much the moisture of the body. Thirdly, that it 
 maketli too great concussion, especially if it be violent, 
 of the inward parts, which delight more in rest. But 
 generally exercise, if it be much, is no friend to pro- 
 longation of life ; which is one cause why women live 
 longer than men, because they stir less. 
 
 Experimenl solitary touching meats that induce satiety. 
 
 300. Some food we may use long, and much, with- 
 out glutting ; as bread, flesh that is not fat or rank, etc. 
 Some other, though pleasant, glutteth sooner; as 
 sweet-meats, fat meats, etc. The cause is, for that 
 appetite consisteth in the emptiness of the mouth of 
 the stomach ; or possessing it with somewhat that is 
 astringent ; and therefore cold and dry. But things 
 that are sweet and fat are more filling ; and do swing 
 and hang more about the mouth of the stomach ; aind 
 go not down so speedily : and again turn sooner to 
 choler, which is hot, and ever abateth the appetite. 
 We see also that another cause of satiety is an over- 
 custom ; and of appetite is novelty ; and therefore 
 meats, if the same be continually taken, induce loath- 
 ing. To give the reason of the distaste of satiety, and 
 of the pleasure in novelty ; and to distinguish not only 
 in meats and drinks, but also in motions, loves, com- 
 pany, delights, studies, what they be that custom 
 maketh more grateful, and what more tedious, were a 
 large field. But for meats, the cause is attraction, 
 which is quicker, and more excited towards that which 
 is new, than towards that whereof there remaineth a 
 relish by fonner use. And, generally, it is a rule, 
 that whatsoever is somewhat ingrate at first, is made 
 gratefid by custom ; but whatsoever is too pleasing at 
 first, groweth quickly to satiate.
 
 NATURAL HISTORY. 
 
 CENTURY IV. 
 
 Experimenis in consort touching tlie clarification of liquors, 
 and the accelerating thereof. 
 
 Acceleration of time, in works of nature, may well 
 be esteemed inter mag)ialia naturce. And even in 
 divine miracles, accelerating of the time is next to the 
 creating of the matter. We will now therefore proceed 
 to the inquiry of it : and for acceleration of germi- 
 nation, we will refer it over unto the place where we 
 shall handle the subject of plants generally ; and will 
 now begin with other accelerations. 
 
 301. Liquors are, many of them, at the first thick 
 and troubled ; as muste, wort, jidces of fruits, or herbs 
 expressed, etc. and by time they settle and clarify. 
 But to make them clear before the time is a great work ; 
 for it is a spur to nature, and putteth her out of her 
 pace : and, besides, it is of good use for making drinks 
 and sauces potable and serviceable speedily. But to 
 know the means of accelerating clarification, wc must 
 first know the causes of clarification. The first cause 
 is, by the separation of the grosser parts of the liquor 
 from the finer. The second, by the equal distribution 
 of the spirits of the liquor with the tangible parts : 
 for that ever representeth bodies clear and luitroublcd. 
 The third, by the refining the spirit itself, wliich 
 thereby giveth to the liquor more splendour and more 
 lustre. 
 
 .'302. First, for separation, it is wrought by weight, 
 as in the ordinary residence or settlement of liquors ; 
 by heat, by motion, by precipitation, or sublimation, 
 that is, a calling of the several parts either up or down, 
 wliich is a kind of attraction ; by adhesion, as wlien a 
 body more viscous is mingled and agitated with the
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. 347 
 
 liquor, which viscous body, afterwards severed, draweth 
 with it the grosser parts of the liquor ; and lastly, by 
 percolation or passage. 
 
 303. iSccondly, for the even distribution of the 
 spirits, it is wrought by gentle heat ; and by agitation 
 or motion, for of time we speak not, because it is that 
 we would anticipate and represent ; and it is wrought 
 also by mixture of some other body which hath a vir- 
 tue to open the liquor, and to make the spirits the 
 better pass through. 
 
 304. Thirdly, for the refining of the spirit, it is 
 wrought likewise by heat ; by motion ; and by mixture 
 of some body which hath virtue to attenuate. So 
 therefore, having shewn the causes, for the accelerating 
 of clarification in general, and the inducing of it, take 
 these instances and trials. 
 
 305. It is in common practice to draw wine or beer 
 from the lees, which we call racking, whereby it will 
 clarify much the sooner ; for the lees, though they keep 
 the drink in heart, and make it lasting, yet withal they 
 cast up some spissitude : and this instance is to be 
 referred to separation. 
 
 306. On the other side it were good to try, what 
 the adding to the liquor more lees than his own will 
 work ; for though the lees do make the liquor turbid, 
 yet they refine the spirits. Take therefore a vessel of 
 new beer, and take another vessel of new beer, and rack 
 the one vessel from the lees, and pour the lees of the 
 racked vessel into the unracked vessel, and see the 
 effect : this instance is referred to the refining of the 
 spirits. 
 
 307- Take new beer, and put in some quantity of 
 stale beer into it, and see whether it will not accelerate 
 the clarification, by opening the body of the beer, and 
 cutting the grosser parts, wliercby they may fall down 
 into lees. And this instance again is referred to 
 separation. 
 
 308. The longer malt or herbs, or the like, are in- 
 fused in liquor, the more thick and troubled the liquor 
 is ; but the longer they be decocted in the liquor, the 
 clearer it is. The reason is plain, because in infusion,
 
 348 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 the longer it is, the greater is the part of the gross 
 body that goeth into the liquor : but in decoction, 
 though more goeth forth, yet it either purgeth at the 
 top, or settleth at the bottom. And therefore the 
 most exact way to clarify is, first, to infuse, and then 
 to take off the liquor and decoct it ; as they do in beer, 
 which hath malt first infused in the liquor, and is after- 
 wards boiled with the hop. This also is referred to 
 separation. 
 
 309. Take hot embers, and put them about a bottle 
 filled with new beer, almost to the very neck ; let the 
 bottle be well stopped, lest it fly out : and continue it, 
 renewing the embers every day, by the space of ten 
 days ; and then compare it with another bottle of the 
 same beer set by. Take also lime both quenched and 
 unquenchcd, and set the bottles in them, ut supra. 
 This instance is referred both to the even distribution, 
 and also to the refining of the spirits by heat. 
 
 310. Take bottles, and swing them, or carry them 
 in a wheel-barrow upon rough ground twice in a day ; 
 but then you may not fill the bottles full, but leave 
 some air ; for if the liquor come close to the stopple, 
 it cannot play nor flower : and when you have shaken 
 them well either way, pour the drink into another 
 bottle stopped close after the usual manner ; for if it 
 stay with much air in it, the drink will pall ; neither 
 will it settle so perfectly in all the parts. Let it stand 
 some twenty four hours : then take it, and put it again 
 into a bottle with air, ut supra : and tlience into a 
 bottle stopped, ut supra : and so repeat the same ope- 
 ration for seven days. Note, that in the emptying of 
 one bottle into another, you must do it swiftly lest the 
 drink pall. It were good also to try it in a bottle with 
 a little air below the neck, without emptying. This 
 instance is referred to the even distribution and re- 
 fining of the spirits by motion. 
 
 311. As for percolation inward and outward, which 
 belongcth to separation, trial would be made of clari- 
 fying by adhesion, with milk put into new beer, and 
 stirred witli it : for it may be that the grosser part of 
 the beer will cleave to the milk : the doubt is, whether
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. 349 
 
 the milk will sever well again ; which is soon tried. 
 And it is usual in clarifying liippocras to put in milk ; 
 which after sevcreth and carrieth with it the grosser 
 parts of the hippocras, as hath been said elsewhere. 
 Also for the better clarification by percolation, when 
 they tun new beer, they use to let it pass through a 
 strainer ; and it is like the liner the strainer is, the 
 clearer it will be. 
 
 Experiments in co?i.sort touching maturatioit, and the accele- 
 rating thereof. And first ^ touching the tnaiuration and 
 quickening of drinks, ^nd next, touching the maturation 
 of fruits. 
 
 The accelerating of maturation we will now inquire 
 of. And of maturation itself. It is of three natures. 
 The maturation of fruits ; the maturation of drinks : 
 and the maturation of impostumes and ulcers. This 
 last we refer to another place, where we shall handle 
 experiments medicinal. There be also other matu- 
 rations, as of metals, etc. whereof we will speak as 
 occasion serveth. But we will begin with that of 
 drinks, because it hath such affinity with the clarifica- 
 tion of liquors. 
 
 312. For the maturation of drinks, it is wrought 
 by the congregation of the spirits together, whereby 
 they digest more perfectly the grosser parts : and it is 
 effected partly by the same means that clarification is, 
 whereof we spake before ; but then note, that an 
 extreme clarification doth spread the spirits so smooth, 
 as they become dull, and the drink dead, w hich ought 
 to have a little flowering. And therefore all your clear 
 amber drink is flat. 
 
 313. We see the degrees of maturation of drinks ; 
 in muste, in wine, as it is drunk, and in vinegar. 
 Whereof muste hath not the spirits well congregated ; 
 wine hath them well united, so as they make the parts 
 somewhat more oily ; vinegar hath them congregated, 
 but more jejune, and in smaller quantity, the greatest 
 and finest spirit and part being exhaled : for we see 
 vinegar is made by setting the vessel of wine against the 
 hot sun ; and therefore vinegar will not burn ; for that 
 much of tlie finer parts is exhaled.
 
 350 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 314. The refreshing and quickening of drink pal- 
 led or dead, is by enforcing the motion of the spirit : 
 so we see that open weather relaxeth the spirit, and 
 maketh it more lively in motion. We see also bot- 
 tling of beer or ale, while it is new and full of spirit, 
 so that it spirteth when the stopple is taken forth, 
 maketh the drink more quick and windy. A pan of 
 coals in the cellar doth likewise good, and maketh the 
 drink work again. New drink put to drink that is 
 dead provoketh it to work again : nay, which is more, 
 as some affirm, a brewing of new beer set by old beer, 
 maketh it work again. It were good also to enforce 
 the spirits by some mixtures, that may excite and 
 quicken them ; as by putting into the bottles, nitre, 
 chalk, lime, etc. We see cream is matured, and made 
 to rise more speedily ])y putting in cold water ; which 
 as it seemeth, getteth down the whey. 
 
 315. It is tried, that the burying of bottles of drink 
 well stopped, either in dry earth a good depth ; or in 
 the bottom of a well within water ; and best of all, 
 the hanging of them in a deep well somewhat above 
 the water for some fortnight's space, is an excellent 
 means of making drink fresh and quick ; for the cold 
 doth not cause any exhaling of the spirits at all, as 
 heat doth, though it rarifieth the rest that remain : 
 but cold maketh the spirits vigorous, and irritateth 
 them, whereby they incorporate the parts of the liquor 
 perfectly. 
 
 316. As for the maturation of fruits ; it is wrought 
 by the calling forth of the spirits of the body outward, 
 and so spreading them more smoothly : and likewise 
 by digesting in some degree the grosser parts ; and 
 this is effected by heat, motion, attraction ; and by a 
 rudiment of putrefaction : for the inception of putre- 
 faction hath in it a maturation. 
 
 317. There were taken apples, and laid in straw ; 
 in hay ; in flour ; in chalk ; in lime ; covered over 
 with onions ; covered over with crabs ; closed up in 
 wax ; sliut in a box, etc. There was also an apple 
 hanged up in smoke ; of all which the experiment 
 sorted in this manner.
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. 351 
 
 318. After a montli's space, tlie apple inclosed in 
 wax was as green and fresh as at the first putting in, 
 and the kernels continued white. The cause is, for 
 that all exclusion of open air, which is ever predatory, 
 maintaineth the body in its first freshness and mois- 
 ture : but the inconvenience is, that it tasteth a little 
 of the wax ; which, I suppose, in a pomegranate, or 
 some such thick- coated fruit, it would not do. 
 
 319. The apple hanged in the smoke, turned like 
 an old mellow apple wiinkled, dry, soft, sweet, yellow 
 within. The cause is, for that such a degree of heat, 
 which doth neither melt nor scorch, (for we see that 
 in a great heat, a roast apple softeneth and melteth ; 
 and pigs feet, made of quarters of wardens, scorch and 
 have a skin of cole,) doth mellow, and not adure : the 
 smoke also maketh the apple, as it were, sprinkled 
 with soot, which helpeth to mature. We see that in 
 drying of pears and prunes in the oven, and removing 
 of them often as they begin to sweat, there is a like ope- 
 ration; but that is with a far more intense degree of 
 heat. 
 
 320. The apples covered in the lime and ashes were 
 well matured ; as appeared both in their yellowness 
 and sweetness. The cause is, for that that degree of 
 heat which is in lime and ashes, being a smothering 
 heat, is of all the rest most proper, for it doth neither 
 liquefy nor arefy ; and that is true maturation. Note, 
 that the taste of those apples was good ; and therefore 
 it is the experiment fitted for use. 
 
 321. The apples covered with crabs and onions were 
 likewise well matured. The cause is, not any heat ; 
 but for that the crabs and the onions draw fortli the 
 spirits of the apple, and spread tliem equally through- 
 out the body ; which taketh away hardness. So we 
 sec one apple ripcneth against another. And there- 
 fore in making of cyder they turn the apples first upon 
 a heap. So one cluster of grapes that toucheth another 
 whilst it groweth, ripeneth faster ; " botrus contra 
 botrum citius maturescit." 
 
 322. The apples in hay and the straw ripened ap- 
 parently, though not so much as tlic other ; but the .
 
 352 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 apple in the straw more. The cause is, for that the 
 hay and straw have a very low degree of heat, but yet 
 close and smothering, and which drieth not. 
 
 323. The apple in the close box was ripened also : 
 the cause is, for that all air kept close hath a degree 
 of warmth : as we see in wool, fur, plush, etc. Note, 
 that all these were compared with another apple of the 
 same kind, that lay of itself : and in comparison of that 
 were more sweet and more yellow, and so appeared to 
 be more ripe. 
 
 324. Take an apple, or pear, or other like fruit, and 
 roll it upon a table hard : we see in common experi- 
 ence, that the rolling doth soften and sweeten the fruit 
 presently ; which is nothing but the smooth distribu- 
 tion of the spirits into the parts : for the unequal dis- 
 tribution of the spirits maketh the harshness : but this 
 hard rolling is between concoction, and a simple ma- 
 turation ; therefore, if you should roll them but gently, 
 perhaps twice a day ; and continue it some seven days, 
 it is like they would mature more finely, and like un- 
 to the natural maturation. 
 
 325. Take an apple, and cut out a piece of the top, 
 and cover it, to see whether that solution of conti- 
 nuity will not hasten a maturation : we see that where 
 a wasp, or a fly, or a worm hath bitten, in a grape, or 
 any fruit, it will sweeten hastily. 
 
 326. Take an apple, etc. and prick it with a pin 
 full of holes, not deep, and smear it a little with sack, 
 or cinnamon water, or spirit of wine, every day for ten 
 days, to see if the virtual heat of the wine or strong 
 waters will not mature it. 
 
 In these trials also, as was used in the first, set an- 
 other of the same fruits by, to compare them ; and try 
 them by their yellowness and by their sweetness. 
 
 Experiment solitarij touching the making of Gold, 
 
 The world hath been much abused by the opinion 
 of making of gold : the work itself I judge to be pos- 
 sible ; but the means, hitherto propounded, to effect 
 it, are, in the practice, full of error and imposture, and 
 in the theory, full of unsound imaginations. For to
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTOllV. 353 
 
 say, that nature hath an intention to make all metals 
 gold ; and that, if she were dehvered from impedi- 
 ments, she would perform her own work ; and that, 
 if the crudities, impurities, and leprosities of metals 
 were cured, they would hecome gold ; and that a little 
 quantity of the medicine, in the work of projection, 
 will turn a sea of the baser metal into gold by multi- 
 plying : all these are but dreams ; and so are many 
 other grounds of alchemy. And to help the matter, 
 the alchemists call in likewise many vanities out of . ^ 
 
 astrology, natural magic, superstitious intcrpretatious 
 of Scriptures, auricidar traditions, feigned testimonies 
 of ancient authors, and the like. It is true, on the 
 other side, they have brought to light not a few pro- 
 fitable experiments, and thereby made the world some 
 amends. But we, when we shall come to handle the 
 version and transmutation of bodies, and the experi- 
 ments concerning metals and minerals, will lay open 
 the true ways and passages of nature, which may lead 
 to this great effect. And we commend the wit 
 of the Chinese, who despair of making of gold, 
 but are mad upon the making of silver : for certain it 
 is, that it is more difficult to make gold, which is the 
 most ponderous and materiate amongst metals, of 
 other metals less ponderous and less materiate, than 
 via versa, to make silver of lead or quicksilver ; both 
 which are more ponderous than silver ; so that they 
 need rather a farther degree of fixation, than any con- 
 densation. In the mean time, by occasion of hand- 
 ling the axioms touching maturation, we will direct 
 a trial touching the maturing of metals, and thereby 
 turning some of them into gold : for we conceive in- 
 deed, that a perfect good concoction, or digestion, or 
 maturation of some metals, will produce gold. And 
 here we call to mind, that we knew a Dutchman, that 
 had wrought himself into the belief of a great person, 
 by undertaking that he could make gold : whose dis- 
 course was, that gold might be made ; but that the 
 alchemists over-fired the work: for, he said, the making 
 of gold did require a very temperate heat, as being in 
 nature a subterrany work, where little heat cometli ;
 
 354 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 but yet more to the making of gold than of any other 
 metal ; and therefore that he would do it with a great 
 lamp that should carry a temperate and equal heat : 
 and that it was the work of many months. The de- 
 vice of the lamp was folly ; but the over-tiring now 
 used, and the equal heat to be required, and the making 
 it a work of some good time, are no ill discourses. 
 
 We resort therefore to our axioms of maturation, 
 in effect touched before. The first is, that there be 
 used a temperate heat ; for they are ever temperate 
 heats that digest and mature : wherein we mean tem- 
 perate according to the nature of the subject ; for that 
 may be temperate to fruits and liquors, which will not 
 work at all upon metals. The second is, that the 
 spirit of the metal be quickened, and the tangible 
 parts opened : for without those two operations, the 
 spirit of the metal wrought upon will not be able to 
 digest the parts. The third is, that the spirits do 
 spread themselves even, and move not subsultorily ; 
 for that will make the parts close and pliant. And 
 this requireth a heat that doth not rise and fall, but 
 continue as equal as may be. The fourth is, that no 
 part of the spirit be emitted, but detained : for if there 
 be emission of spirit, the body of the metal will be 
 hard and churlish. And this will be performed, partly 
 by the temper of the fire ; and partly by the closeness 
 of the vessel. The fifth is, that there be choice made 
 of the likeliest and best prepared metal for the ver- 
 sion : for that will facilitate the work. The sixth is, 
 that you give time enough for the work : not to pro- 
 long hopes, as the alchemists do, but indeed to give 
 nature a convenient space to work in. These prin- 
 ciples are most certain and true ; we will now derive 
 a direction of trial out of them, which may, perhaps, 
 by farther meditation be im|)roved. 
 
 ?}27- Let there be a small furnace made of a tem- 
 perate heat ; let tlie heat be such as may keep the 
 metal perpetually molten, and no more; for that above 
 all importeth to the work. For the material, take sil- 
 ver, which is the metal that in nature symbolizeth most 
 with gold ; put in also witli the silver, a tenth part of 
 quicksilver, and a twelftli ])art of nitre, by weiglit ;
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. 355 
 
 both these to quicken and open the body of the metal : 
 and so let the work be continued by the space of six 
 months at the least. I wish also, that there be at 
 some times an injection of some oiled substance ; such 
 as they use in the recovering of gold, which by vexing 
 with separations hath been made churlish : and this 
 is to lay the parts more close and smooth, which is the 
 main work. For gold, as we see, is the closest, and 
 therefore the heaviest, of metals ; and is likewise the 
 most flexible and tensible. Note, that to think to 
 make gold of quicksilver, because it is the heaviest, is 
 a thing not to be hoped ; for quicksilver will not en- 
 dure the manage of the fire. Next to silver, I think 
 copper were fittest to be the material. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the nature of gold. 
 
 328. Gold hath these natures ; greatness of weight ; 
 closeness of parts ; fixation ; pliantness, or softness ; 
 immunity from rust ; colour or tincture of yellow. 
 Therefore the sure way, though most about, to make 
 gold, is to know the causes of the several natures be- 
 fore rehearsed, and the axioms concerning the same. 
 For if a man can make a metal that hath all these 
 properties, let men dispute whether it be gold or no. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the inducing and 
 accelerating of putrefaction. 
 
 The inducing and accelerating of putrefaction, is a 
 subject of a very universal inquiry : for corruption is 
 a reciprocal to generation : and they two are as nature's 
 two terms or boundaries ; and the guides to life and 
 death. Putrefaction is the work of the spirits of bo- 
 dies, which ever are unquiet to get forth and con- 
 gregate with the air, and to enjoy the sun-beams. The 
 getting forth, or spreading of the spirits, which is a 
 degree of getting forth, hath five differing operations. 
 If the spirits be detained within the body, and move 
 more violently, there foUoweth colliquation, as in 
 metals, etc. If more mildly, there followeth digestion, 
 or maturation ; as in drinks and fruits. If the 
 spirits be not merely detained, but protrude a little, 
 and that motion be confused and inordinate, there fol-
 
 S56 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV- 
 
 loweth putrefaction ; which ever dissolveth the con- 
 sistence of the body into much inequality ; as in 
 flesh, rotten fruits, shining wood, etc. and also in the 
 rust of metals. But if that motion be in a certain 
 order, there followeth vivification and figuration ; as 
 both in living creatures bred of putrefaction, and in 
 living creatures perfect. But if the spirits issue 
 out of the body, there followeth desiccation, in- 
 dui'ation, consumption, etc. as in brick, evaporation of 
 bodies liquid, etc. 
 
 329. The means to induce and accelerate putre- 
 faction, are, first, by adding some crude or watery 
 moisture ; as in wetting of any flesh, fruit, wood, with 
 water, etc. for contrariwise unctuous and oily sub- 
 stances preserve. 
 
 330. The second is by invitation or excitation ; as 
 when a rotten apple lieth close to another apple that 
 is sound : or when dung, which is a substance already 
 putrified, is added to other bodies. And this is also 
 notably seen in church-yards where they bury much, 
 where the earth will consume the corpse in far shorter 
 time than other earth will. 
 
 331. The third is by closeness and stopping, which 
 detaineth the spirits in prison more than they would ; 
 and thereby irritateth them to seek issue ; as in corn 
 and clothes which wax musty ; and therefore open air, 
 which they call aer perflabilis, doth preserve : and 
 this doth appear more evidently in agues, which come, 
 most of them, of obstructions, and penning the hu- 
 mours, which thereupon putrify. 
 
 332. The fourth is by solution of continuity ; as we 
 see an apple will rot sooner if it be cut or pierced ; 
 and so will wood, etc. And so the flesh of creatures 
 alive, where they have received any wound. 
 
 233. The fifth is either by the exhaling or by the 
 driving back of the principal spirits wliich preserve 
 the consistence of the body ; so that when their gov- 
 ernment is dissolved, every part rcturneth to his na- 
 ture or homogeny. And tliis appeareth in urine and 
 blood when they cool, and thereby break : it appeareth 
 also in the gangrene, or mortification of flesh, either by
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. S57 
 
 opiates or by intense colds. I conceive also the same 
 effect is in pestilences ; for that the malignity of the 
 infecting vapour danceth the principal spirits, and 
 maketh them fly and leave their regiment ; and then 
 the humours, flesh, and secondary spirits, do dissolve 
 and break, as in an anarchy. 
 
 334. The sixth is when a foreign spirit, stronger 
 and more eager than the spirit of the body, entereth 
 the body ; as in the stinging of serpents. And this 
 is the cause, generally, that upon all poisons foUoweth 
 swelling : and we see swelling followeth also when 
 the spirits of the body itself congregate too much, as 
 upon blows and bruises ; or when they are pent in too 
 mucli, as in swelling upon cold. And we see also, that 
 the spirits coming of putrefaction of humours in agues, 
 etc. which may be counted as foreign spirits, though 
 they be bred within the body, do extinguish and suf- 
 focate the natural spirits and heat. 
 
 335. The seventh is by sucli a weak degree of heat, 
 as setteth the spirits in a little motion, but is not able 
 either to digest the parts, or to issue the spirits ; as is 
 seen in flesh kept in a room, that is not cool : whereas 
 in a cool and wet larder it will keep longer. And we 
 see that vivification, whereof putrefaction is the bastard 
 brother, is effected by such soft heats ; as the hatching 
 of eggs, the heat of the womb, etc. 
 
 336. The eighth is by the releasing of the spirits, 
 which before were close kept by the solidness of their 
 coverture, and thereby their appetite of issuing check- 
 ed ; as in the artificial rusts induced by strong waters 
 in iron, lead, etc. and therefore wetting hastcneth rust 
 or putrefaction of any thing, because it softeneth the 
 crust for the spirits to come forth. 
 
 337. The ninth is by the interchange of heat and 
 cold, or wet and dry ; as we see in the mouldering of 
 earth in frosts and sun ; and in the more hasty rotting 
 of wood, that is sometimes wet, sometimes dry. 
 
 338. The tenth is by time, and the work and pro- 
 cedure of the spirits themselves, which cannot keep 
 their station ; especially if they be left to themselves, 
 and there be not agitation or local motion. As we 
 
 VOL. I. 2 a
 
 358 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 see in corn not stirred ; and mens bodies not exer- 
 cised. 
 
 339. AH moulds are inceptions of putrefaction ; as 
 the moulds of pies and flesh ; the moulds of oranges 
 and lemons, which moulds afterwards turn into worms, 
 or more odious putrefactions : and therefore, common- 
 ly, prove to be of ill odour. And if the body be liquid, 
 and not apt to putrify totally, it will cast up^a mother 
 in the top, as the mothers of distilled waters. 
 
 340. Moss is a kind of mould of the earth and trees. 
 But it may be better sorted as a rudiment of germi- 
 nation ; to which we refer it. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching prohibiting and preventing 
 putrefaction. 
 
 It is an enquiry of excellent use, to inquire of the 
 means of preventing or staying putrefaction ; for 
 therein consisteth the means of conservation of bodies : 
 for bodies have two kinds of dissolutions ; the one by 
 consumption and desiccation ; the other by putrefac- 
 tion. But as for the putrefactions of the bodies of 
 men and living creatures, as in agues, worms, con- 
 sumptions of the lungs, impostumes, and ulcers both 
 inwards and outwards, they are a great part of physic 
 and surgery ; and therefore we will reserve the in- 
 quiry of them to the proper place, where we shall 
 handle medical experiments of all sorts. Of the rest 
 we will now enter into an inquiry : wherein much 
 light may be taken from that which hath been said of 
 the means to induce or accelerate putrefactions ; for 
 the removing that which caused putrefaction, doth 
 prevent and avoid putrefaction. 
 
 341. The first means of prohibiting or checking 
 putrefaction, is cold : for so we see that meat and 
 drink will last longer unputrified or unsourcd, in win- 
 ter than in summer: and we see that flowers and 
 fruits, put in conservatories of snow, keep fresh. And 
 this worketh by the detention of the spirits, and con- 
 stipation of the tangible parts. 
 
 342. The second is astriction : for astriction pro- 
 hibiteth dissolution : as we sec generally in medicines.
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. 359 
 
 whereof such as are astringents do inhibit putrefaction: 
 and by the same reason of astringency, some small 
 quantity of oil of vitriol will keep fresh water long 
 from putrifying. And this astriction is in a substance 
 that hath a virtual cold : and it worketh partly by 
 the same means that cold doth. 
 
 343. The third is the excluding of the air ; and 
 again, the exposing to the air : for these contraries, 
 as it cometh often to pass, work the same effect, ac- 
 cording to the nature of the subject matter. So we 
 see, that beer or wine, in bottles close stopped, last 
 long ; that the garners under ground keep corn longer 
 than those above ground ; and that fruit closed in wax 
 keepeth fresh ; and likewise bodies put in honey and 
 flour keep more fresh : and liquors, drinks, and juices, 
 with a little oil cast on the top, keep fresh. Contrari- 
 wise, we see that cloth and apparel not aired do breed 
 moths and mould ; and the diversity is, that in bodies 
 that need detention of spirits, the exclusion of the air 
 doth good ; as in drinks and corn : but in bodies that 
 need emission of spirits to discharge some of the super- 
 fluous moisture, it doth hurt, for they require airing. 
 
 344. The fourth is motion and stirring ; for putre- 
 faction asketh rest : for the subtle motion which putre- 
 faction requireth, is disturbed by any agitation ; and 
 all local motion keepeth bodies integral, and their jiarts 
 together ; as we see that turning over of corn in 
 a garner, or letting it run like an hour-glass, from an 
 upiicr-room into a lower, doth keep it sweet ; and run- 
 ning waters putrify not : and in mens bodies, exercise 
 hindereth putrefaction ; and contrariwise, rest and want 
 of motion, or stoppings, whereby the run of humours, 
 or the motion of perspiration is stayed, further putre- 
 faction ; as we partly touched a little before. 
 
 345. The fifth is the breathing forth of the adven- 
 titious moisture in bodies ; for as wetting doth hasten 
 putrefaction, so convenient drying, whereby the more 
 radical moisture is only kept in, putteth back putre- 
 faction ; so we see that herbs and flowers, if they be 
 dried in the shade, or dried in the hot sun for a small 
 time, keep best. For the emission of the loose and 
 
 2 A 2
 
 360 NATURAL HISTOHY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 adventitious moisture doth betray the radical mois- 
 ture ; and carrieth it out for company. 
 
 346. The sixth is the strengthening of the spirits of 
 bodies ; for as a great heat keepeth bodies from putre- 
 faction, but a tepid heat inclineth them to putrefac- 
 tion ; so a strong spirit likewise preserveth, and a weak 
 or faint spirit disposeth to corruption. So we find that 
 salt water corrupteth not so soon as fresh : and salt- 
 ing of oysters, and powdering of meat, keepeth them 
 from putrefaction. It would be tried also, whether 
 chalk put into water, or drink, doth not preserve it 
 from putrifying or speedy souring. So we see that 
 strong beer will last longer than small ; and all things 
 that are hot and aromatical, do help to preserve li- 
 quors, or powders, etc. which they do as well by 
 strengthening the spirits, as by soaking out the loose 
 moisture. 
 
 347. The seventh is separation of the cruder parts, 
 and thereby making the body more equal ; for all im- 
 perfect mixture is apt to putrify ; and watery substances 
 are more apt to putrify than oily. So we see distilled 
 waters will last longer than raw waters ; and things 
 that have passed the fire do last longer than those that 
 have not passed the fire ; as dried pears, etc. 
 
 348. The eighth is the drawing forth continually 
 of that part where the putrefaction beginneth ; which 
 is, commonly, the loose and watery moisture ; not only 
 for the reason before given, that it provoketh the radical 
 moisture to come forth with it ; but because being de- 
 tained in the body, the putrefaction taking hold of it, 
 infecteth the rest : as we see in the embalming of dead 
 bodies ; and the same reason is of preserving herbs, or 
 fruits, or flowers, in bran or meal. 
 
 349. The ninth is the commixture of any thing that 
 is more oily or sweet : for such bodies are least apt to 
 putrify, the air working little upon them ; and they not 
 putrifying, preserve the rest. And therefore we see sy- 
 rups and ointments will last longer than juices. 
 
 350. The tenth is the commixture of somewhat that 
 is dry ; for putrefaction beginneth first from the spirits; 
 and then from the moisture ; and that that is dry is
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. 361 
 
 unapt topiitrify: and therefore smoke preservcth Hesh; 
 as we see in bacon and neats tongues, and Martle- 
 mas beef, etc. 
 
 351. The opinion of some of the ancients, that 
 blown airs do preserve bodies longer tlian other airs, 
 secnieth to me probable ; for that the blown airs, be- 
 ing overcharged and compressed, will hardly receive the 
 exhaling of any tiling, but rather repulse it. It was 
 tried in a blown bhidder, wherein to flesh was put, and 
 likewise a flower, and it sorted not : for dry bladders 
 will not blow ; and new bladders rather furtJier putre- 
 faction : the way were therefore to blow strongly with 
 a pair of bellows into a hogslicad, putting into the 
 hogshead, before, that which you would have pre- 
 served ; and in the instant that you withdraw the 
 bellows, stop the hole close. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching ivood shining in the dark. 
 
 352. The experiment of wood that shineth in the 
 dark, we have diligently driven and pursued : the ra- 
 ther, for that of all things that give light here be- 
 low, it is the most durable, and hath least apparent 
 motion. Fire and flame are in continual expence ; 
 sugar shineth only while it is in scraping ; and salt- 
 water while it is in dashing ; glow-worms have their 
 shining while they live, or a little after ; only scales 
 of fishes putrified seem to be of the same nature with 
 shining wood : and it is true, that all putrifaction hath 
 with it an inward motion, as well as fire or light. The 
 trial sorted thus : 1 . The shining is in some pieces 
 more bright, in some more dim ; but the most bright 
 of all doth not attain to the liglit of a glow-worm. 
 2, The woods that have been tried to shine, are chiefly 
 sallow and willow ; also the ash and hazle ; it may be 
 it holdeth in others. 3. Both roots and bodies do 
 shine, but the roots better. 4. The colour of the 
 shining part, by day-light, is in some pieces white, in 
 some pieces inclining to red ; which in the country 
 they call the white and red garret. 5. The part that 
 shineth is, for the most part, somewhat soft, and moist 
 to feel to ; but some was found to be firm and hard,
 
 362 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 SO as it might be figured into a cross, or into beads, 
 etc. But you must not look to have an image, or the 
 like, in any thing that is lightsome ; for even a face 
 in iron red-hot will not be seen, the light confounding 
 the small differences of lightsome and darksome, which 
 shew the figure. 6. There was the shining part pared 
 off, till you came to that that did not shine; but 
 within two days the part contiguous began also to 
 shine, being laid abroad in the dew ; so as it seemeth 
 the putrefaction spreadeth. 7. There was other dead 
 wood of like kind that was laid abroad, which shined 
 not at first ; but after a night's lying abroad began to 
 shine. 8. There was other wood that did first shine ; 
 and being laid dry in the house, within five or six days 
 lost the shining ; and laid abroad again, recovered the 
 shining. 9- Shining woods being laid in a dry room, 
 within a seven-night lost their shining ; but being laid 
 in a cellar, or dark room, kept tlie shining. 10. The 
 boring of holes in that kind of wood, and then laying- 
 it abroad, seemeth to conduce to make it shine : the 
 cause is, for that all solution of continuity doth help 
 on putrefaction, as was touched before. 11. No wood 
 hath been yet tried to shine, that was cut down alive, 
 but such as was rotted both in stock and root while it 
 grew. 12. Part of the wood that shined was steeped 
 in oil, and retained the shining a fortnight. 13. The 
 like succeeded in some steeped in water, and much 
 better. 14. How long the shining will continue, if 
 the wood be laid abroad every night, and taken in and 
 sprinkled with water in the day, is not yet tried. 15. 
 Trial was made of laying it abroad in frosty weather, 
 which hurt it not. 16. There was a great piece of a 
 root which did sliine, and the shining part was cut off 
 till no more shined ; yet after two nights, though it 
 were kept in a dry room, it got a shining. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the acceleration of birth. 
 
 353. The bringing forth of living creatures may 
 be accelerated in two respects : the one, if the embryo 
 ripencth and perfecteth sooner : the other, if there 
 be some cause from the mother's body, of expulsion or
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. 363 
 
 putting it down : whereof the former is good, and ar- 
 gueth strength ; the latter is ill, and cometh by acci- 
 dent or disease. And therefore the ancient observa- 
 tion is true, that the child born in the seventh month 
 doth commonly \vell ; but born in the eighth month, 
 doth for the most part die. But the cause assigned 
 is fabulous ; which is, that in the eighth month should 
 be the return of the reign of the planet Satuni, which, 
 as they say, is a planet malign ; whereas in the se- 
 venth is the reign of the moon, which is a planet pro- 
 pitious. But the true cause is, for that where there 
 is so great a prevention of the ordinary time, it is the 
 histiness of the child ; but when it is less, it is some 
 indisposition of the mother. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the acceleration of growth 
 and stature. 
 
 354. To accelerate growth or stature, it must jiro- 
 ceed either from the plenty of the nourishment ; or 
 from the nature of the nourishment; or from the 
 quickening and exciting of the natural heat. For 
 the first, excess of nourishment is hurtful; for it 
 maketh the child corpulent ; and growing in breadth 
 rather than in height. And you may take an expe- 
 riment from plants, which if they spread much are 
 seldom tall. As for the nature of the nourishment ; 
 first, it may not be too dry, and therefore children in 
 dairy countries do wax more tall, than where they 
 feed more upon bread and flesh. There is also a 
 received tale ; that boiling of daisy roots in milk, 
 which it is certain are great driers, will make dogs 
 little. But so much is true, that an over-dry nourish- 
 ment in childhood putteth back stature. Secondly, 
 the nourishment must be of an opening nature ; for . 
 that attenuateth the juice, and furthereth the motion 
 of the spirits upwards. Neither is it without cause, 
 that Xenophon, in the nurture of the Persian chil- 
 dren, doth so much commend their feeding upon car- 
 damon ; which, he saith, made them grow better, 
 and be of a more active habit. ( 'ardamon is in Latin 
 nasturtium ; and with us water-cresses ; which, it is
 
 364 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 certain, is an herb, that whilst it is young, is friendly 
 to life. As for the quickening of natural heat, it 
 must be done chiefly with exercise ; and therefore no 
 doubt much going to school, where they sit so much, 
 hindereth the growth of children ; whereas country 
 people that go not to school, are commonly of better 
 stature. And again men must beware how they 
 give children any thing that is cold in operation ; for 
 even long sucking doth hinder both wit and stature. 
 This hath been tried, tliat a whelp that hath been 
 fed with nitre in milk, hath become very little, but 
 extreme lively : for the spirit of nitre is cold. And 
 though it be an excellent medicine in strength of 
 years for prolongation of life ; yet it is in children 
 and young creatures an enemy to growth ; and all for 
 the same reason ; for heat is requisite to growth ; but 
 after a man is come to his middle age, heat consumeth 
 the spirits ; which the coldness of the spirit of nitre 
 doth help to condense and correct. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching sulphur and mercury, tivo of 
 Paracelsus's principles. 
 
 There be two great families of things ; you may 
 term them by several names ; sulphureous and mer- 
 curial, which are the chemists words : for as for their 
 sal, which is their third principle, it is a compound 
 of the other two; inflammable and not inflammable; 
 mature and crude ; oily and watery. For we see that 
 in subterranics there arc, as the fathers of their tribes, 
 brimstone and mercury ; in vegetables and living 
 creatures there is water and oil : in the inferior order 
 of pneumaticals there is air and flame ; and in the 
 superior there is the body of the star and the pure sky. 
 And these pairs, though they be unlike in the primi- 
 tive differences of matter, yet they seem to have many 
 consents : for mercury and sulphur arc principal ma- 
 terials of metals ; water and oil are principal materials 
 of vegetables and animals ; and seem to differ but in 
 maturation or concoction : flame, in vulgar opinion, 
 is but air incensed ; and tliey both have quickness of 
 motion, and facility of cession, nuicli alike: and the
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. 365 
 
 interstellar sky, though the opinion be vain, that the 
 star is the denser part of his orb, hath notwithstand- 
 ing so miicli affinity with the star, that there is a ro- 
 tation of that, as well as of the star. Tlierefore it is 
 one of the greatest magncdia naturcE^ to turn water 
 or watery juice into oil or oily juice : greater in nature, 
 than to turn silver or quicksilver into gold. 
 
 355. The instances we have wherein crude and 
 watery substance turneth into fat and oily, are of four 
 kinds. First in the mixture of earth and water ; which 
 mingled by the help of the sun gather a nitrous fatness, 
 more than either of them have severally ; as we see 
 in tliat they put forth plants, which need both juices. 
 
 356. The second is in the assimilation of nourish- 
 ment, made in the bodies of plants and living crea- 
 tures ; whereof plants turn the juice of mere water 
 and earth into a great deal of oily matter : living 
 creatures, though much of their fat and flesh are out 
 of oily aliments, as meat and bread, yet they assimi- 
 late also in a measure their drink of water, etc. But 
 these two ways of version of water and oil, namely, by 
 mixture and by assimilation, are by many passages and 
 percolations, and by long continuance of soft heats, 
 and by circuits of time. 
 
 357. The third is in the inception of putrefaction : 
 as in water corrupted : and the mothers of waters 
 distilled ; both which have a kind of fatness or oil. 
 
 358. The fourth is in the dulcoration of some 
 metals : as saccharum Satiirni, etc. 
 
 359. The intention of version of water into a more 
 oily substance is by digestion ; for oil is almost no- 
 thing else but water digested ; and this digestion is 
 principally by heat ; which heat must be either out- 
 ward or inward : again, it may be by provocation or 
 excitation ; which is caused by the mingling of bodies 
 already oily or digested ; for they will somewhat com- 
 municate their nature with the rest. Digestion also 
 is strongly efiPected by direct assimilation of bodies 
 crude into bodies digested; as in plants and Hving crea- 
 tures, whose nourishment is far more crude than their 
 bodies : but this digestion is by a great compass, as
 
 366 NATURAL HlSTOllY. [cENT. IV. 
 
 hath been said. As for the more full haiidlmg of these 
 two principles, whereof this is but a taste, the inquiry 
 of which is one of the profoundest inquiries of nature, 
 we leave it to the title of version of bodies ; and like- 
 wise to the title of the first congregations of matter ; 
 which, like a general assembly of estates, doth give 
 law to all bodies. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching chameleons. 
 
 360. A chameleon is a creature about the bigness 
 of an ordinary lizard : his head unproportionably big : 
 his eyes great : he moveth his head \\ithout the writh- 
 ing of his neck, which is inflexible, as a hog doth : his 
 back crooked; his skin spotted with little tumours, 
 less eminent nearer the bellv : his tail slender and 
 long : on each foot lie hath five fingers ; three on the 
 outside, and two on the inside ; his tongue of a mar- 
 vellous length in respect of his body, and hollow at 
 the end ; which he will launch out to prey upon flies. 
 Of colour green, and of a dusky yellow, brighter and 
 whiter towards the belly ; yet spotted with blue, white, 
 and red. If he be laid upon green, the green prcdo- 
 minateth ; if upon yellow, the yellow ; not so if he be 
 laid upon blue, or red, or white ; only the green spots 
 receive a more orient lustre ; laid upon black, he look- 
 eth all black, though not without a mixture of green. 
 He feedeth not only upon air, though that be his prin- 
 cipal sustenance, for sometimes he taketli flies, as was 
 said ; yet some that have kept chameleons a whole year 
 together, could never ])erceive that ever they fed upon 
 any thing else but air ; and might observe their bel- 
 lies to swell after they had exhausted the air and 
 closed their jaws ; which they open commonly against 
 the rays of the sun. They have a foolish tradition in 
 magic, that if a chameleon be burnt upon the top of an 
 house, it will raise a tempest ; supposing, according 
 to their vain dreams of sympathies, because he nou- 
 risheth with air, his body should have great virtue to 
 make impression upon the air.
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTOKY. 367 
 
 Experiment solitary touching subterrany fires. 
 
 861. It is reported by one of the ancients, that in 
 part of JMedia there are eruptions of flames out of 
 plains ; and that those flames arc clear, and cast not 
 forth such smoke, and ashes, and pumice, as mountain 
 flames do. The reason, no doubt, is, because the flame 
 is not pent as it is in mountains and earthquakes which 
 cast flame. There be also some blind fires under stone, 
 which flame not out, but oil being poured upon them 
 they flame out. The cause whereof is, for that it 
 seemeth that the fire is so choked, as not able to re- 
 move the stone, it is heat rather than flame ; which 
 nevertheless is sufficient to inflame the oil. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching nitre. 
 
 362. It is reported, that in some lakes the water 
 is so nitrous, as, if foul clothes be put into it, it scour- 
 eth them of itself: and if they stay any whit long, 
 they moulder away. And the scouring virtue of nitre 
 is the more to be noted, because it is a body cold ; and 
 we see wann water scoureth better than cold. But 
 the cause is, for that it hath a subtle spirit, which 
 severeth and dividcth any thing that is foul and vis- 
 cous, and sticketh upon a body. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching congealing of air. 
 
 363. Take a bladder, the greatest you can get : fill 
 it full of wind, and tie it about the neck with a silk 
 thread waxed ; and upon that put likewise wax very 
 close ; so that when the neck of the bladder drieth, 
 no air may possibly get in or out. Then bury it 
 three or four foot under the earth in a vaidt, or in a 
 conservatory of snow, the snow being made hollow 
 about the bladder ; and after some fortnight's distance, 
 see whether the bladder be slirunk ; for if it be, then 
 it is plain that the coldness of the earth or snow hath 
 condensed the air, and brought it a degree nearer to 
 water : which is an experiment of great consequence.
 
 368 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching congealing of water into crystaL 
 
 364. It is a report of some good credit, that in 
 deep caves there are pensile crystals, and degrees of 
 crystal that drop from above ; and in some other, 
 though more rarely, that rise from below : Which 
 though it be chiefly the work of cold, yet it may be 
 that water that passeth through the earth, gathereth 
 a nature more clammy and fitter to congeal and be- 
 come solid than water of itself. Therefore trial would 
 be made, to lay a heap of earth, in great frosts, upon 
 a hollow vessel, putting a canvas between, that it 
 falleth not in : and pour water upon it, in such quan- 
 tity as will be sure to soak through ; and see whether 
 it will not make an harder ice in the bottom of the 
 vessel, and less apt to dissolve than ordinarily. I sup- 
 pose also, that if you make the earth narrower at the 
 bottom than at the top, in fashion of a sugar-loaf re- 
 versed, it will help the experiment. For it will make 
 the ice, where it issueth, less in bulk ; and evermore 
 smallness of quantity is a help to version. 
 
 Experime?it solitary touching preserving of rose-leaves both in 
 colour and smell. 
 
 365. Take damask roses, and pull them ; then 
 dry them upon the top of an house, upon a lead or 
 terras, in the hot sim, in a clear day, between the 
 hours only of twelve and two, or thereabouts. Then 
 put tliem into a sweet dry earthen bottle, or a glass, 
 with narrow mouths, stuffing them close together, but 
 without bruising : stop the bottle or glass close, and 
 these roses will retain not only their smell perfect, but 
 tlieir colour fresh, for a year at least. Note, that no- 
 thing doth so much destroy any plant, or other body, 
 cither by putrefaction or arcfaction, as the adventitious 
 moisture whicli hangcth loose in the body, if it be not 
 drawn out. For it bctrayeth and tolleth fortli the 
 innate and radical moisture along with it, when itself 
 gocth forth. And therefore in living creatures, mo- 
 derate s\vcat do til preserve the juice of the body. 
 Note, that these roses, when you take them from the
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. 36'9 
 
 drying, have little or no smell ; so that the smell is a 
 second smell, that issueth out of the flower afterwards. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the continuance of flame. 
 
 366. The continuance of flame, according unto the 
 diversity of the body inflamed, and other circumstan- 
 ces, is worthy the inquiry ; chiefly, for that though 
 flame be almost of a momentany lasting, yet it recei- 
 veth the more, and the less : we will first therefore 
 speak at large of bodies inflamed wholly and imme- 
 diately, without any wick to help the inflammation. 
 A spoonful of spirit of wine, a little heated, was taken, 
 and it burnt as long as came to a hundred and sixteen 
 pulses. The same quantity of spirit of wine, mixed 
 with the sixth part of a spoonful of nitre, burnt but 
 to tlie space of ninety four pulses. IMixed with the 
 like quantity of bay-salt, eighty three pulses. Mixed 
 with the like quantity of gunpowder, which dissolved 
 into a black water, one hundred and ten pulses. A 
 cube or pellet of yellow wax was taken, as much as 
 half the spirit of wine, and set in the midst, and it 
 burnt only to the space of eighty seven pulses. JNIixed 
 with the sixth part of a spoonful of milk, it burnt to 
 the space of one hundred pulses ; and the milk was 
 curdled. Mixed with the sixth part of a spoonful of 
 water, it biu-nt to the space of eighty six pulses ; witli 
 an equal quantity of water, only to the space of four 
 pulses. A small pebble was laid in the midst, and the 
 spirit of wine burnt to the space of ninety four pulses. 
 A piece of wood of the bigness of an arrow, and about 
 a finger's length, was set up in the midst, and the spirit 
 of wine burnt to the space of ninety four pulses. So 
 that the spirit of wine simple endured the longest ; 
 and the spirit of wine with the bay-salt, and the equal 
 quantity of water, were the shortest. 
 
 367. Consider well, whether the more speedy going 
 forth of the flame be caused by the greater vigoiu* of 
 the flame in burning ; or by the resistance of the body 
 mixed, and the aversion thereof to take flame : which 
 will appear by the quantity of the spirit of wine that 
 remaineth after the going out of the flame. And it
 
 370 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 seemeth clearly to be the latter ; for that the mixture 
 of things least apt to burn, is the speediest in going 
 out. And note, by the way, that spirit of wine burned, 
 till it go out of itself, will burn no more ; and tasteth 
 nothing so hot in the mouth as it did ; no, nor yet sour, 
 as if it were a degree towards vinegar, which burnt 
 wine doth ; but flat and dead. 
 
 368. Note, that in the experiment of wax aforesaid, 
 the wax dissolved in the burning, and yet did not in- 
 corporate itself with the spirit of wine, to produce one 
 flame ; but wheresoever the wax floated, the flame for- 
 sook it, till at last it spread all over, and put the flame 
 quite out. 
 
 369. The experiments of the mixtures of the spirit 
 of wine inflamed, are things of discovery, and not of 
 use : but now we will speak of the continuance of 
 flames, such as are used for candles, lamps, or tapers ; 
 consisting of inflammable matters, and of a wick that 
 provoketh inflammation. And this importeth not only 
 discovery, but also use and profit ; for it is a great 
 saving in all such lights, if they can be made as fair 
 and bright as others, and yet last longer. Wax pure 
 made into a candle, and wax mixed severally into 
 candle- stuff", with the particulars that follow ; viz. 
 water, afjtia vitcje, milk, bay-salt, oil, butter, nitre, 
 brimstone, saw-dust, every of these bearing a sixth part 
 to the wax ; and every of these candles mixed, being 
 of the same weight and wick with the wax pure, proved 
 thus in the burning and lasting. The swiftest in con- 
 suming was tliat with saw-dust ; which first burned 
 fair till some ])art of the candle was consumed, and 
 the dust gathered about the snaste ; but then it made 
 the snaste big and long, and to burn duskislily, and 
 the candle wasted in half the time of the wax pure. 
 The next in swiftness were the oil and butter, wliich 
 consumed by a fifth part swifter than the pure wax. 
 Then followed in swiftness the clear wax itself. Then 
 the bay-salt, which lasted about an eighth part longer 
 than tlic clear wax. Tlien followed the aqua mta:, 
 whicli lasted about a fiftli ])art longer than the clear 
 wax. Tlien followed the milk, and water, with little
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. 371 
 
 difference from the aqua vitcEt but the water slowest. 
 And in these four last, the wick would spit forth little 
 sparks. For the nitre, it would not hold lighted above 
 some twelve pulses : but all tlie while it would spit 
 out portions of flame, wliich afterwards would go out 
 into a vapour. For the brimstone, it would hold 
 lighted much about the same time with the nitre ; but 
 then after a little while it would harden and cake about 
 the snaste ; so that the mixture of bay-salt with wax 
 will win an eighth part of the time of lasting, and 
 the water a fifth. 
 
 370. After the several materials were tried, trial 
 was likewise made of several wicks ; as of ordinary 
 cotton, sewing thread, rush, silk, straw, and wood. The 
 silk, straw, and wood, would flame a little, till they 
 came to the wax, and then go out : of the other three, 
 the thread consumed faster than the cotton, by a sixth 
 part of time : the cotton next, then the rush consumed 
 slower than the cotton, by at least a third part of time. 
 For the bigness of the flame, the cotton and thread cast 
 a flame much alike ; and the rush much less and dim- 
 mer. Query, whether wood and wicks both, as in 
 torches, consume faster than the wicks simple ? 
 
 371- We have spoken of the several materials, and 
 the several wicks : but to the lasting of the flame it 
 importeth also, not only what the material is, but in 
 the same material whether it be hard, soft, old, new, etc. 
 Good housewives, to make their candles burn the 
 longer, use to lay them, one by one, in bran or flour, 
 which make them harder, and so tliey consume the 
 slower : insomuch as by this means they will outlast 
 other candles of the same stuff almost half in half. 
 For bran and flour have a virtue to liarden ; so that 
 both age, and lying in the bran, doth help to the lasting. 
 And we see that wax candles last longer than tallow 
 candles, because wax is more firm and hard. 
 
 372. The lasting of flame also de])endeth upon the 
 easy drawing of tlie nourishment ; as we see in the 
 Court of England there is a service wliich they call 
 Allnight ; which is as it were a great cake of wax, with 
 the wick in the midst ; wliercby it cometli to pass.
 
 372 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 that the wick fetcheth the nouidshment farther off. 
 We see also that lamps last longer, because the vessel 
 is far broader than the breadth of a taper or candle. 
 
 373. Take a turreted lamp of tin, made in the 
 form of a square ; the height of the turret being thrice 
 as much as the length of the lower part whereupon 
 the lamp standeth : make only one hole in it, at the 
 end of the return farthest from the turret. Reverse 
 it, and fill it full of oil by that hole ; and then set it 
 upright again ; and put a wick in at the hole, and 
 lighten it : you shall find that it will burn slow, and 
 a long time : which is caused, as was said last before, 
 for that the flame fetcheth the nourishment afar off. 
 You shall find also, that as the oil wasteth and de- 
 scendeth, so the top of the turret by little and little 
 filleth with air ; which is caused by the rarefaction 
 of the oil by the heat. It were worthy the observa- 
 tion, to make a hole in the top of the turret, and to 
 try when the oil is almost consumed, whether the air 
 made of the oil, if you put to it the flame of a candle, 
 in the letting of it forth, will inflame. It were good 
 also to have the lamp made, not of tin, but of glass, 
 that you may see how the vapour or air gathereth by 
 degrees in the top. 
 
 374. A fourth point that importeth the lasting of 
 the flame, is the closeness of the air wherein the flame 
 burnetii. We see that if wind blowcth upon a candle, 
 it wasteth apace. We see also it lasteth longer in a 
 lanthorn than at large. And tlicre are traditions of 
 lamps and candles, that have burnt a very long time 
 in caves and tombs. 
 
 375. A fifth point that importeth the lasting of 
 the flame, is tlie nature of the air where the flame 
 burnetii ; whether it be hot or cold, moist or dry. 
 The air, if it be very cold, irritateth the flame, and 
 maketh it bum more fiercely, as fire scorchcth in fros- 
 ty weather, and so furthcreth the consumption. The 
 air once heated, I conceive, maketh the flame burn 
 more mildly, and so helpcth the continuance. The 
 air, if it be dry, is indifix^rcnt : the air, if it be moist, 
 doth in a degree quench the flame, as we see lights
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAT. HISTORY. .173 
 
 will go out in the damps of mines, and howsoever 
 maketh it burn more dully, and so helpcth the con- 
 tinuance. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching burials or infusions of 
 divers bodies tn earth. 
 
 376. Biuials in earth serve for preservation ; and 
 for condensation ; and for induration of bodies. And 
 if you intend condensation or induration, you may 
 bury the bodies so as earth may touch them : as if 
 you will make artificial porcelane, etc. And the like 
 you may do for conservation, if the bodies be hard and 
 solid ; as clay, wood, etc. But if you intend preser- 
 vation of bodies more soft and tender, then you must do 
 one of these two : either you must put them in cases, 
 whereby they may not touch the earth ; or else you 
 murst vault the earth, whereby it may hang over them, 
 and not touch them : for if the earth touch them, it 
 will do more hurt by the moisture, causing them to 
 putrify, than good by the virtual cold, to conserve 
 them ; except the earth be very dry and sandy. 
 
 377. An orange, lemon, and apple, wrapt in a linen 
 cloth, being buried for a fortnight's space four feet 
 deep within the earth, though it were in a moist place, 
 and a rainy time, yet came forth no ways mouldy or 
 rotten, but were become a little harder than they were; 
 otherwise fresh in their colour ; but their juice some- 
 what flatted. But with the burial of a fortnight more 
 they became putrified. 
 
 378. A bottle of beer, buried in like manner as be- 
 fore, became more lively, better tasted, and clearer than 
 it was. And a bottle of wine in like manner. A bottle 
 of vinegar so buried came forth more lively and more 
 odoriferous, smelling almost like a violet. And after 
 the whole month's burial, all the three came forth as 
 fresh and lively, if not better than before. 
 
 379. It were a profitable experiment to preserve 
 oranges, lemons, and pomegranates, till summer : for 
 then their price will be mightily increased. This may 
 be done, if you put them in a pot or vessel well cover- 
 ed, that the moisture of the earth come not at them ; 
 
 VOL. I. 2 b
 
 374 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 or else by putting them in a conservatory of snow. 
 An;l generally, whosoever will make experiments of 
 cold, let him be provided of three things ; a conserva- 
 tory of snow ; a good large vault, twenty feet at least 
 under the ground ; and a deep well. 
 
 380. There hath been a tradition, that pearl, and 
 coral, and turquois-stone, that have lost their colours, 
 may be recovered by biu'ying in the earth : which is a 
 thing of great profit, if it would sort : but upon trial 
 of six weeks burial, there followed no effect. It were 
 good to try it in a deep well, or in a conservatory of 
 snow ; where the cold may be more constringent ; 
 and so make the body more united, and thereby more 
 resplendent. 
 
 Experimc?if. solitary touching fhe effects hi mens bodies 
 from severed winds. 
 
 381. ]\Iens bodies are heavier, and less disposed to 
 motion, when southern winds blow, than when nor- 
 thern. The cause is, for that when the southern 
 winds blow, the humours do, in some degree, melt and 
 wax fluid, and so flow into the parts ; as it is seen in 
 wood and other bodies, which, when the southern 
 winds blow, do swell. Besides, the motion and activity 
 of the body consisteth chiefly in the sinews, which, 
 when the southern wind bloweth, are more relax. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching winter and summer sicknesses. 
 
 382. It is commonly seen, that more are sick in the 
 summer, and more die in the winter ; except it be in 
 pestilent diseases, which commonly reign in summer or 
 autumn. The reason is, because diseases are bred, 
 indeed, chiefly by heat ; but then they are cured most 
 by sweat and purge ; which in the summer cometh on 
 or is provoked more easily. As for pestilent diseases, 
 the reason why most die of them in summer is, be- 
 cause they are bred most in the summer : for other- 
 wise those that are touched are in most danger in the 
 winter. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching pestilential seasons. 
 . .S8.S. The general opinion is, that years hot and
 
 CENT. IV.J NATURAI. HISTORY. «^75 
 
 moist are most pcstilciU ; upon tlic superficial ground 
 that heat and moisture cause putixTaction. In Eng- 
 land it is not found true ; for many times there have 
 been great plagues in dry years. AVhereof tlie cause 
 may be, for that drought in the bodies of islanders 
 habituate to moist airs, doth exasperate the humours, 
 and maketh them more apt to putrify or inflame : be- 
 sides, it taintetb tlie waters, commonly, and maketh 
 them less wholesome. And again in Barbary, the 
 plagues break up in the summer months, when the 
 weather is hot and dry. 
 
 Experiments solitary touching an error received about 
 epidemical diseases. 
 
 384. Many diseases, both epidemical and others, 
 break fortli at particular times. And the cause is 
 falsely imputed to the constitution of the air at that 
 time when they break forth or reign ; whereas it pro- 
 ceedeth, indeed, from a precedent sequence and series 
 of the seasons of the year : and therefore Hippocrates 
 in his prognostics doth make good observations of the 
 diseases that ensue upon the nature of the precedent 
 four seasons of the year. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching t/w alteration or preserva- 
 tion of liquors in wells or deep vaults. 
 
 385. Trial hath been made with earthen bottles 
 well stopped, hanged in a well of twenty fathom deep 
 at the least ; and some of the bottles have been let 
 down into the water, some others have hanged above, 
 within about a fathom of the water ; and the liquors 
 so tried have been beer, not new, but ready for drink- 
 ing, and wine, and milk. The proof hath been, that 
 both the beer and the wine, as well within water as 
 above, have not been palled or deaded at all ; but as 
 good or somewhat better than bottles of the same 
 drinks and staleness kept in a cellar. But those which 
 did hang above water were apparently the best ; and 
 that beer did flower a little ; whereas that under wa- 
 ter did not, though it were fresh. The milk soured 
 and began to putrify. Nevertheless it is true, that 
 there is a village near Blois, where in deep caves they 
 
 2 E 2
 
 376 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 do thicken milk, in such sort that it becometh very 
 pleasant : which was some cause of this trial of hang- 
 ing milk in the well : but our proof was naught ; 
 neither do I know whether that milk in those caves 
 be first boiled. It were good therefore to try it with 
 milk sodden, and with cream ; for that milk of itself 
 is such a compound body, of cream, curds, and whey, 
 as it is easily turned and dissolved. It w^ere good 
 also to try the beer when it is in wort, that it may be 
 seen whether the hanging in the well will accelerate 
 the ripening and clarifying of it. 
 
 Experiment solitary iojiehing slutting. 
 
 386. Divers, we see, do stut. The cause may be, 
 in most, the refrigeration of the tongue ; whereby it 
 is less apt to move. And therefore we see that na- 
 turals do generally stut : and we see that in those that 
 stut, if they drink wine moderately, they stut less, be- 
 cause it heateth : and so we see, that they that stut 
 do stut more in the first offer to speak than in conti- 
 nuance ; because the tongue is by motion somewhat 
 heated. In some also, it may be, though rarely, the 
 dryness of the tongue ; which likewise maketh it less 
 apt to move as well as cold : for it is an affect that 
 cometh to some wise and great men ; as it did unto 
 Moses, who was lingua prcepeditce ; and many stut- 
 ters, we find, are very choleric men ; choler induc- 
 ing a dryness in the tongue. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching smells, 
 
 387. Smells and other odours are sweeter in the 
 air at some distance, than near the nose ; as hath been 
 partly touched heretofore. The cause is double : first, 
 the finer mixture or incorporation of the smell : for we 
 see that in sounds likewise, they are sweetest when we 
 cannot hear every part by itself. The other reason 
 is, for that all sweet smells have joined with them some 
 earthy or crude odours; and at some distance the 
 sweet, which is the more spiritual, is perceived, and 
 the earthy reacheth not so far. 
 
 388. Sweet smells are most forcible in dry sub-
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. 377 
 
 stances when they are broken ; and m likewise in 
 oranges and lemons, the nipping of their rind giveth 
 out their smell more ; and generally when bodies arc 
 moved or stirred, though not broken, they smell more; 
 as a sweet-bag waved. The cause is double : the one, 
 for that there is a greater emission of the spirit when 
 way is made ; and this holdeth in the breaking, nip- 
 ping, or crushing ; it holdeth also, in some degree, in 
 the moving : but in this last there is a concurrence of 
 the second cause ; which is the impulsion of the air, 
 that bringeth the scent faster upon us. 
 
 389. The daintiest smells of flowers are out of 
 those plants whose leaves smell not ; as violets, roses, 
 wall- flowers, gilly-flowers, pinks, woodbines, vine- 
 flowers, apple-blooms, lime-tree-blooms, bean-blooms, 
 etc. The cause is, for that where there is heat and 
 strength enough in the plant to make the leaves odo- 
 rate, there the smell of the flower is rather evanid and 
 weaker than that of the leaves ; as it is in rosemary 
 flowers, lavender flowers, and sweet-briar roses. But 
 where there is less heat, there the spirit of the plant 
 is digested and refined, and severed from the grosser 
 juice, in the efflorescence, and not before. 
 
 390. Most odours smell best broken or crushed, as 
 hath been said ; but flowers pressed or beaten do lose 
 the freshness and sweetness of their odour. The cause 
 is, for that when they are crushed, the grosser and 
 more earthy spirit cometh out with the finer, and 
 troubleth it ; whereas in stronger odours there are no 
 such d^rees of the issue of the smell. 
 
 Mxperimenls in consort touching the goodness and choice 
 of water. 
 
 391. It is a thing of very good use to discover the 
 goodness of waters. The taste, to those that drink 
 water only, doth somewhat : but other experiments 
 are more sure. First, try waters by weight ; wherein 
 you may find some difference, though not much : and 
 the ligliter you may account the better. 
 
 392. Secondly, try them by boiling upon an equal
 
 378 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 fire ; and that which consumeth away fastest you may 
 account the best. 
 
 393. Thirdly, try them in several bottles or open 
 vessels, matches in every thing else, and see which of 
 them last longest without stench or corruption. And 
 that which holdeth unputrified longest, you may like- 
 wise account the best. 
 
 39-i. Fourthly, try them by making drinks strong- 
 er or smaller, with the same quantity of malt ; and 
 you may conclude, that that water which maketh the 
 stronger drink, is the more concocted and nourishing ; 
 though perhaps it be not so good for medicinal use. 
 And such water, commonly, is the water of large and 
 navigable rivers ; and likewise in large and clean 
 ponds of standing Avater ; for upon both them the sun 
 hath more power than upon fountains or small rivers. 
 And I conceive tliat chalk-water is next them the 
 best for going farthest in drink : for that also help- 
 eth concoction ; so it be out of a deep well ; for 
 then it cureth the rawness of the water ; but chalky 
 water, towards the top of the earth, is too fretting ; as 
 it appeareth in laundry of dotlies, which wear out 
 apace if )^ou use such waters. 
 
 395. Fifthly, the housewives do find a difference 
 in waters, for the bearing or not bearing of soap : and 
 it is likely that the more fat water will bear soap 
 best ; for the hungry water doth kill the unctuous na- 
 ture of the soap. 
 
 396. Sixthly, you may make a judgment of wa- 
 ters according to the place whence they spring or 
 come : the rain-water is, by the pliysicians, esteemed 
 the finest and the best ; but yet it is said to putrify 
 soonest ; which is likely, because of the fineness of the 
 spirit: and in conservatories of rain water, such as 
 they have in Venice, etc. they arc found not so choice 
 waters ; the worse, perhaps, because they arc covered 
 aloft, and kept from the sun. Sno\v-water is held 
 unwholesome ; insomuch as the people that dwell at 
 the foot of the snow mountains, or otherwise upon 
 the ascent, especially the womcii, by drinking of snow-
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTOllY. 379 
 
 water, Ihavc great bags hanging under their throats. 
 ^Vell-vvatcr, except it be upon chalk, or a very plen- 
 tifiil spring, maketh meat red ; wliich is an ill sign. 
 S})rings on the tops of high hills are the best : for 
 l)oth they seem to have a lightness and appetite of 
 mounting ; and besides, they are most pure and un- 
 mingled ; and again, are more percolated through a 
 great space of earth. For waters in valleys join in 
 effect under ground with all waters of the same le- 
 vel ; whereas springs on the tops of hills pass through 
 a great deal of pure earth ^vith less mixture of other 
 waters. 
 
 397. Seventhly, judgment may be made of waters 
 by the soil whereupon the water runneth ; as jiebble 
 is the cleanest and best tasted ; and next to that, 
 clay-water ; and thirdly, water upon chalk ; fourthly, 
 that upon sand ; and worst of all upon mud. Nei- 
 ther may you trust waters that taste sweet ; for they 
 are commonly found in rising grounds of great cities ; 
 wliich must needs take in a great deal of filth. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the temperate heat under 
 the equinoctial. 
 
 398. In Peru, and divers parts of the West Indies, 
 though under the line, the heats are not so intolerable 
 as they be in Barbary, and the skirts of the torrid 
 zone. The causes are, first the great breezes wliich 
 tlie motion of the air in great circles, such as are un- 
 der the girdle of the world, produceth ; which do re- 
 frigerate ; and therefore in those parts noon is nothing 
 so hot, when the breezes are great, as about nine or 
 ten of the clock in the forenoon. Another cause is, 
 for that the length of the night, and the dews there- 
 of, do compensate the heat of the day. A third cause 
 is the stay of the sun ; not in respect of day and night, 
 for that we spake of before, but in respect of tlic sea- 
 son ; for under the line the sun crosseth the line, and 
 maketh two summers and two winters, but in the 
 skirts of the torrid zone it doiiblcth and goeth back 
 again, and so maketh one long summer.
 
 380 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. IV. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the coloration of black and 
 tawny ]\Ioors. 
 
 399. The heat of the sun maketh men black in 
 some countries, as in ^Eithiopia and Guinea, etc. Fire 
 doth it not, as we see in glass-men, that are continu- 
 ally about the fire. The reason may be, because fire 
 doth lick up the spirits and blood of the body, so as 
 they exhale ; so that it ever maketh men look pale 
 and sallow ; but the sun, which is a gentler heat, doth 
 biit draw the blood to the outward parts ; and rather 
 concocteth it than soaketh it ; and therefore we see 
 that all iEthiopes are fleshy and plump, and have great 
 lips ; all which betoken moisture retained, and not 
 drawn out. We see also, that the Negroes are bred 
 in countries that have plenty of water, by rivers or 
 otherwise ; for Meroe, which was the metropolis of 
 ^Ethiopia, was upon a great lake ; and Congo, where 
 the Negroes are, is full of rivers. And the confines 
 of the river Niger, where the Negroes also are, are 
 well watered : and the region above Cape Verde is 
 likewise moist, insomuch as it is pestilent through 
 moisture : but the countries of the Abyssenes, and 
 Barbary, and Peru, where they are tawny, and olivas- 
 ter, and pale, are generally more sandy and dry. As 
 for the jEthiopes, as they are plump and fleshy, so, it 
 may be, they are sanguine and ruddy-coloured, if their 
 black skin would suffer it to be seen. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching motion after the instant of 
 death. 
 
 400. Some creatures do move a good while after 
 their head is off ; as birds : some a very little time ; 
 as men and all beasts : some move, though cut in se- 
 veral pieces ; as snakes, eels, worms, flies, etc. First 
 therefore it is certain, that the immediate cause of 
 death is the resolution or extinguishment of the spirits ; 
 and that the destruction or corruption of the organs 
 is but the mediate cause. But some organs are so 
 peremptorily necessary, that the extinguishment of the 
 spirits doth speedily follow ; but yet so as there is an 
 interim of a small time. It is reported by one of the
 
 CENT. IV.] NATURAL HISTORY. 381 
 
 ancients of credit, that a sacrificed beast hath lowed 
 after the heart hatli been severed ; and it is a report 
 also of credit, that the head of a pig hath been opened, 
 and the brain put into the palm of a man's hand, 
 trembling, without breaking any part of it, or sever- 
 ing it from the marrow of the back-bone; during which 
 time the pig hath been, in all appearance, stark dead, 
 and without motion ; and after a small time the brain 
 hath been replaced, and the skull of the pig closed, 
 and the pig hath a little after gone about. Aiiid cer- 
 tain it is, that an eye upon revenge hath been thrust 
 forth, so as it hanged a pretty distance by the visual 
 nerve ; and during that time the eye hath been with- 
 out any power of sight ; and yet after being replaced 
 recovered sight. Now the spirits are chiefly in the 
 head and cells of the brain, which in men and beasts 
 are large ; and therefore, when the head is off, they 
 move little or nothing. But birds have small heads, 
 and therefore the spirits are a little more dispersed 
 in the sinews, whereby motion remaineth in them a 
 little longer ; insomuch, as it is extant in story, that 
 an emperor of Rome, to shew the certainty of his hand, 
 did shoot a great forked arrow at an ostrich, as she ran 
 swiftly upon the stage, and struck off her head ; and 
 yet she continued the race a little way with the head 
 off. As for worms, and flies, and eels, the spirits are 
 diffused almost all over ; and therefore they move in 
 their several pieces.
 
 NATURAL HISTORY. 
 
 CENTURY V. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the acceleration of 
 germination. 
 
 We will now inquire of plants or vegetables : and 
 we shall do it with diligence. They are the principal 
 part of the third day's work. They are the first /?ro- 
 ducat, which is the word of animation : for the other 
 words are but the words of essence : and they are of 
 excellent and general use for food, medicine, and a num- 
 ber of mechanical arts. 
 
 401. There were sown in a bed, turnip-seed, radish- 
 seed, wheat, cucumber-seed, and peas. The bed we 
 call a hot-bed, and the manner of it is this : there was 
 taken horse- dung, old and well rotted ; this was laid 
 upon a bank half a foot high, and supported round 
 about with planks ; and upon the top was cast sifted 
 earth, some two fingers deep ; and then the seed 
 sprinkled upon it, having been steeped all night in 
 water mixed with cow-dung. The turnip-seed and 
 the wheat came up half an inch above ground within 
 two days after, without any watering. The rest the 
 third day. The experiment was made in October ; 
 and, it may be, in tlie spring, the accelerating would 
 have been the speedier. This is a noble experiment; 
 for without this help they would have been four times 
 as long in coming uj). But there dotli not occur to 
 me, at this present, any use thereof for profit ; except 
 it should be for sowing of peas, which have their price 
 very much increased by the early coming. It may be 
 tried also with cherries, strawberries, and other fruit, 
 which are dearest when tliey come early. 
 
 402. There was v/heat steeped in water mixed with 
 cow-dung; other in water mixed with horse-dung;
 
 CENT, v.] NATURAL HISTORY. 383 
 
 other in water mixed with pigeon-dung ; other in 
 urine of man ; other in water mixed with chalk pow- 
 dered ; other in water mixed with soot ; other in wa- 
 ter mixed with aslics ; otlier in water mixed with bay- 
 salt ; other in claret wine ; other in malmsey ; other 
 in spirit of wine. The proportion of the mixture was 
 a fourth part of the ingredients to the water ; save 
 that there was not of the salt above an eighth part. 
 The urine, and wines, and spirit of wine, were simple 
 without mixture of water. The time of the steeping 
 was twelve hours. The time of the year October. 
 There was also other wheat sown unsteeped, but wa- 
 tered twice a day with warm water. There was also 
 other wheat sown simple, to compare it v^^ith the rest. 
 The event was ; that those that were in the mixture 
 of dung, and urine, and soot, chalk, ashes, and salt, 
 came up within six days : and those that afterwards 
 proved the highest, thickest, and most lusty, were first 
 the urine ; and then the dungs ; next the chalk ; next 
 the soot ; next the ashes ; next the salt ; next the 
 wheat simple of itself, unsteeped and unwatered ; next 
 tli6 watered twice a day with warm water ; next the 
 claret wine. So that these three last were slower than 
 the ordinary wheat of itself; and this culture did ra- 
 ther retard than advance. As for those that were 
 steeped in malmsey, and spirit of wine, they came not 
 up at all. This is a rich experiment for profit ; for 
 the most of the steepings arc cheap things ; and the 
 goodness of the crop is a great matter of gain ; if the 
 goodness of the crop answer the earliness of the coming 
 up ; as it is like it will ; both being from the vigour 
 of the seed ; which also partly appeared in the former 
 experiments, as hath been said. This experiment 
 would be tried in other grains, seeds, and kernels : for 
 it may be some steeping will agree best with some 
 seeds. It would be tried also with roots steeped as 
 before, but for longer time. It would be tried also 
 in several seasons of the year, especially the spring. 
 
 403. Strawberries watered now and then, as once 
 in three days, with water wherein hath been steeped 
 sheeps-dung or pigeons-dung, will prevent and come
 
 384 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. V, 
 
 early. And it is like the same effect would follow in 
 other berries, herbs, flowers, grains, or trees. And 
 therefore it is an experiment, though vulgar in straw- 
 berries, yet not brought into use generally : for it is 
 usual to help the ground with muck ; and likewise to 
 recomfort it sometimes with muck put to the roots ; 
 but to water it with muck water, which is like to be 
 more forcible, is not practised. 
 
 404. Dung, or chalk, or blood, applied in substance, 
 seasonably, to the roots of trees, doth set them for- 
 wards. But to do it unto herbs, without mixture of 
 water or earth, it may be these helps are too hot. 
 
 405. The former means of helping germination, are 
 either by the goodness and strength of the nourish- 
 ment ; or by the comforting and exciting the spirits 
 in the plant to draw the nourishment better. And of 
 this latter kind, concerning the comforting of the spi- 
 rits of the plant, are also the experiments that follow; 
 though they be not applications to the root or seed. 
 The planting of trees warm upon a wall against the 
 south, or south-east sun, doth hasten their coming on 
 and ripening ; and the south-east is found to be bet- 
 ter than the south-west, though the south-west be the 
 hotter coast. But the cause is chiefly, for that the 
 heat of the morning succeedeth the cold of the night : 
 and partly, because many times the south-west sun is 
 too parching. 8o likewise the planting of them upon 
 the back of a chimney where a fire is kept, doth hasten 
 their coming on and ripening : nay more, the drawing 
 of the boughs into the inside of a room where a fire is 
 continually kept, worke^i the same effect ; which hath 
 been tried with grapes ; insomuch as they will come 
 a month earlier than the grapes abroad. 
 
 406. Besides the two means of accelerating germi- 
 nation formerly described ; that is to say, the mending 
 of the nourishment ; and comforting of the spirit of 
 the plant ; there is a third, which is the making way 
 for the easy coming to the nourishment, and drawing 
 it. And therefore gentle digging and loosening of 
 the earth about the roots of trees ; and the removing 
 herbs and flowers into new earth once in two years,
 
 CENT, v.] NATURAL HISTORY. 385 
 
 which is the same thing, for the new eartli is ever 
 looser, doth greatly further the prospering and earli- 
 ness of plants. 
 
 407. But the most admirable acceleration by facili- 
 tating the nourishment is that of water. For a standard 
 of a damask rose with the root on, was set in a cham- 
 ber where no fire was, upright in an earthen pan, full 
 of fair water, without any mixture, half a foot under 
 the water, the standard being more than two foot high 
 above the water : within the space of ten days the 
 standard did put forth a fair green leaf, and some other 
 little buds, which stood at a stay, without any shew of 
 decay or withering, more than seven days. But after- 
 wards that leaf faded, but the young buds did sprout 
 on ; which afterward opened into fair leaves in the space 
 of three months ; and continued so a while after, till 
 upon removal we left the trial. But note, that the 
 leaves were somewhat paler and lighter-coloured than 
 the leaves used to be abroad. Note, that the first buds 
 were in the end of October ; and it is likely that if 
 it had been in the spring time, it would have put forth 
 with greater strength, and, it may be, to have grown 
 on to bear flowers. By this means you may have, as 
 it seemeth, roses set in the midst of a pool, being sup- 
 ported with some stay ; which is matter of rareness 
 and pleasure, though of small use. This is the more 
 strange, for that the like rose-standard was put at the 
 same time into water mixed with horse-dung, the horse- 
 dung about the fourth part to the water, and in four 
 months space, while it was observed, put not forth any 
 leaf, though divers buds at the first, as the other. 
 
 408. A Dutch flower that had a bulbous root, was 
 likewise put at the same time all under water, some 
 two or three fingers deep ; and within seven days 
 sprouted, and continued long after further growing. 
 There were also put in, a beet-root ; a borage-root, and 
 a radish-root, which had all their leaves cut almost 
 close to the roots ; and within six weeks had fair leaves ; 
 and so continued till the end of November. 
 
 409. Note, that if roots, or peas, or flowers, may be 
 accelerated in their coming and ripening, there is a
 
 386 NATURAL HISTORY. [CEXT. V. 
 
 double profit ; the one in the high price tliat those 
 things bear when they come early : the other in the 
 swiftness of their returns : for in some grounds which 
 are strong, you shall have a radish, etc. come in a 
 month, that in other grounds will not come in two, and 
 so make double returns. 
 
 410. Wheat also was put into the water, and came 
 not forth at all ; so as it seemeth there must be some 
 strength and bulk in the body put into the water, as 
 it is in roots ; for grains, or seeds, the cold of the water 
 will mortify. But casually some wheat lay under the 
 pan, which was somewhat moistened by the suing of 
 the pan ; which in six weeks, as aforesaid, looked 
 mouldy to the eye, but it was sprouted forth half a 
 finger's length. 
 
 411. It seemeth by these instances of water, that 
 for nourishment the water is almost all in all, and that 
 the earth doth but keep the plant upright, and save it 
 from over-heat and over- cold ; and therefore is a com- 
 fortable experiment for good drinkers. It proveth also 
 that our former opinion, that drink incorporate with 
 flesh or roots, as in capon -beer, etc. will nourish more 
 easily, than meat and drink taken severally. 
 
 412. The housing of plants, I conceive, will both 
 accelerate germination, and bring forth flowers and 
 plants in the colder seasons : and as we house hot- 
 country plants, as lemons, oranges, myrtles, to save 
 them ; so we may house our own country plants, to 
 forward them, and make them come in the cold sea- 
 sons ; in such sort, that you may have violets, straw- 
 berries, peas, all winter : so that you sow or remove 
 them at fit times. This experiment is to be referred 
 unto the comforting of the spirit of the plant by 
 warmth, as well as housing their boughs, etc. So then 
 the means to accelerate germination, are in particular 
 eight, in general three. 
 
 Experiments in consort toncJmrg the putting back or 
 retardat ion of germ i nation . 
 
 413. To make roses, or other flowers come late, it 
 is an experiment of pleasure. For the ancients esteemed
 
 CENT, v.] NATURAI- HISTORY. 387 
 
 much of the rosa sei'a. And indeed tlic Novem- 
 ber rose is the sweetest, having been less exhaled by 
 the sun. Tlic means arc these. First, the cutting off 
 their tops immediately after they have done bearing ; 
 and then tliey will come again the same year about 
 November : but they will not come just on the tops 
 where they were cut, but out of those shoots which 
 were, as it were, water boughs. The cause is, for that 
 the sap, which otherwise would have fed the top, 
 thougli after bearing, will, by the discharge of that, 
 divert unto the side sprouts ; and they will come to 
 bear, but later. 
 
 414'. The second is the pulling off the buds of the 
 rose, when they are newly knotted ; for then the side 
 branches will bear. The cause is the same with tlie 
 former ; for cutting off the tops, and pulling off tlie 
 buds, work the same effect, in retention of the sap for 
 a time, and diversion of it to tlie sprouts that were not 
 so forward. 
 
 415. The third is the cutting off some few of the 
 top boughs in the spring time, but suffering the lower 
 boughs to grow on. The cause is, for that the boughs 
 do help to draw up the sap more strongly ; and we see 
 that in polling of trees, many do use to leave a bough 
 or two on the top, to help to draw up the sap. And 
 it is reported also, that if you graft upon the bough of 
 a tree, and cut off some of the old boughs, the new 
 cions will perish. 
 
 416. The fourth is by laying the roots bare about 
 Christmas some days. The cause is plain, for that it 
 doth arrest the sap from going upwards for a time ; 
 which arrest is afterwards released by the covering of 
 the root again with earth ; and then the sap getteth 
 up, but later. 
 
 417. The fifth is the removing of the tree some 
 month before it buddeth. The cause is, for that some 
 time will be required after the remove for the re -sett- 
 ling, before it can draw the juice ; and that time being 
 lost, the blossom must needs come forth later. 
 
 418. The sixth is the grafting of roses in May, 
 which commonly gardeners do not till .July ; and then
 
 388 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. V. 
 
 they bear not till the next year ; but if you graft thein 
 in May, they will bear the same year, but late. 
 
 419. The seventh is the girding of the body of the 
 tree about with some pack-thread ; for that also in a 
 degree restraineth the sap, and maketh it come up 
 more late and more slov/ly. 
 
 420. The eighth is the planting of them in a shade, 
 or in a hedge ; the cause is, partly the keeping out of 
 the sun, which hasteneth the sap to rise ; and partly 
 the robbing them of nourishment by the stuff in the 
 hedge. These means may be practised upon other, 
 both trees and flowers, mutatis mutandis. 
 
 421. Men have entertained a conceit that sheweth 
 prettily ; namely, that if you graft a late-coming fruit 
 upon a stock of a fruit-tree that cometh early, the graft 
 will bear early ; as a peach upon a cherry ; and contrari- 
 wise, if an early-corning fruit upon a stock of a fruit- 
 tree that cometh late, the graft will bear fruit late ; 
 as a cherry upon a peach. But these are but imagi- 
 nations, and untrue. The cause is, for that the cion 
 over-ruleth the stock quite; and the stock is but 
 passive only, and givetli aliment, but no motion to 
 the graft. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the melioration of frail a, 
 treeSf and plants. 
 
 We will speak now, how to make fruits, flowers, and 
 roots larger, in more plenty, and sweeter than they use 
 to be ; and how to make the trees themselves more tail, 
 more spread, and more hasty and sudden than they use 
 to be. Wherein there is no doubt but the former 
 experiments of acceleration will serve much to tliese 
 purposes. And again, that these experiments, which 
 we shall now set down, do serve also for acceleration, 
 because both effects proceed from the increase of vigour 
 in the tree ; but yet to avoid confusion, and because 
 some of the means are more proper for the one effect, 
 and some for the other, we will handle them apart. 
 
 422. It is an assured experience, that a heap of flint 
 or stone, laid about the bottom of a wild tree, as an 
 oak, elm, ash, etc. upon the first planting, doth make
 
 CENT, v.] XATCJIIAL HISTORY. .I8f> 
 
 it prosper double as much as without it. Tlie cause 
 is, for that it retaineth the moisture wliich fallctli at 
 any time upon the tree, and suffereth it not to be 
 exhaled by the sun. Again, it keepoth the tree warm 
 from cold blasts, and frosts, as it were in an house. It 
 may be also there is somewhat in the kcejnng of it 
 steady at the first. Query ^ If laying of straw some 
 height about the body of a tree, will not make the tree 
 forwards. For thougli the root giveth the sap, yet it 
 is the body that drawctli it. But you must note, that 
 if you lay stones about the stalk of lettuce, or other 
 plants that are more soft, it will over-moisten the roots, 
 so as the worms will cat tlicm. 
 
 423. A tree, at tlie first setting, should not be 
 shaken, until it hath taken root fully : and therefore 
 some have put two little forks about tlie bottom of their 
 trees to keep them upright ; but after a year's rooting, 
 then shaking doth the tree good, by looseniiig of the 
 earth, and, perhaps, by exercising, as it were, and stir- 
 ring the sap of the tree. 
 
 424. Generally the cutting away of boughs and 
 suckers at the root and body doth make trees grow 
 liigli ; and contrariwise, the polling and cutting of the 
 top maketh them grow spread and bushy. As we see 
 in pollards, etc. 
 
 425. It is reported, that to make hasty-growing 
 coppice woods, the way is, to take willow, sallow, pop- 
 lar, alder, of some seven years growth ; and to set 
 them, not upright, but aslope, a reasonable depth under 
 the ground ; and then instead of one root they will 
 put forth many, and so carry more shoots upon a stem. 
 
 426. When you would liave many new roots of fruit 
 trees, take a low tree and bow it, and lay all its brandies 
 afiat upon the ground, and cast earth upon them ; and 
 every twig will take root. And this is a very profit- 
 able experiment for costly trees, for the boughs will 
 make stocks without charge ; such as are apricots, 
 peaches, almonds, cornelians, mulberries, figs, etc. The 
 like is continually practised with vines, roses, musk- 
 roses, etc. 
 
 427. From May to July you may take off tl^e 
 vor,. I. 2 c
 
 390 NATURAL HISTOKY. [CENT. V. 
 
 bark of any boiigli, being of the bigness of tliree or 
 four inches, and cover the bare place, somewliat 
 above and below, with loam well tempered with 
 horse-dung, binding it fast down. Then cut off the 
 bough about Allhollontide in the bare place, and set 
 it in the ground ; and it will grow to be a fair tree in 
 one year. The cause may be, for that the baring from 
 the bark keepeth the sap from descending towards 
 winter, and so holdeth it in the bough ; and it may be 
 also that the loam and horse-dung applied to the bare 
 place do moisten it, and cherish it, and make it more 
 apt to put forth the root. Note, that this may be a 
 general means for keeping up the sap of trees in their 
 boughs ; which may serve to other effects. 
 
 428. It hath been practised in trees that shew fair 
 and bear not, to bore a hole through the heart of the 
 tree, and thereupon it will bear. Which may be, for 
 that the tree before had too much repletion, and was 
 oppressed with its own sap ; for repletion is an enemy 
 to generation. 
 
 429. It hath been practised in trees that do not 
 bear, to cleave two or three of the chief roots, and to 
 put into the cleft a small pebble, which may keep it 
 open, and then it will bear. The cause may be, for 
 that a root of a tree may be, as it were, hide-bound, 
 no less than the body of the tree ; but it will not keep 
 open without somewhat put into it. 
 
 430. It is usually practised, to set trees that re- 
 quire much sun upon walls against the south ; as 
 apricots, peaches, plums, vines, figs, and the like. It 
 hath a double commodity : the one, the heat of the wall 
 by reflexion ; tlie other, the taking away of the shade ; 
 for when a tree groweth round, the upper boughs over- 
 shadow the lower : but when it is spread upon a wall, 
 the sun cometh alike upon the upper and the lower 
 branches. 
 
 431. It hath also been practised by some, to pull 
 off some leaves from the trees so spread, that the sun 
 may come upon the bough and fruit the better. Tliere 
 hath been practised also a curiosity, to set a tree upon 
 the north side of a wall, and at a little height to draw
 
 (;rnt. v.] nattthal history. 391 
 
 it tlirmigli tlic wall, and spread it upon the south side : 
 conceiving that the root and lower part of the stock 
 should enjoy the freshness of the shade ; and the up- 
 per boughs, and fruit, the comfort of the sun. But it 
 sorted not ; the cause is, for that the root requireth 
 some comfort from the sun, though under earth, 
 as well as the body : and the lower part of the body 
 more than the upper, as we see in compassing a tree 
 below with straw. 
 
 432. The lowness of the bough where the fruit 
 cometh, maketh the fruit greater, and to ripen better; 
 for you shall ever see, in apricots, peaches, or me- 
 locotones upon a wall, tho greatest fruits towards the 
 bottom. And in France, the grapes that make the 
 wine, grow upon low vines bound to small stakes ; 
 and the raised vines in arbours make but verjuice. It 
 is true, that in Italy and other countries where they 
 liave hotter sun, they raise them upon elms and trees ; 
 but I conceive, that if the French manner of planting 
 low were brought in use there, their wines would be 
 stronger and sweeter. But it is more chargeable in 
 respect of the props. It were good to try whether a 
 tree grafted somewhat near the ground, and the 
 lower boughs only maintained, and the higher con- 
 tinually ])runed off, would not make a larger fruit. 
 
 433. To have fruit in greater plenty, the way is to 
 graft not only upon young stocks, but upon divers 
 boughs of an old tree ; for they will bear great num- 
 bers of fruit : whereas if you graft but upon one 
 stock, the tree can bear but few. 
 
 434. The digging yearly about the roots of trees, 
 which is a great means both to the acceleration and 
 melioration of fruits, is practised in nothing but in 
 vines : which if it were transferred unto other trees 
 and shrubs, as roses, etc. I conceive would advance 
 them likewise. 
 
 435. It hath been known, that a fruit tree hath 
 been blown up, almost, by the roots, and set up again, 
 and the next year bare exceedingly. The cause of this 
 was nothing but the loosening of the earth, which 
 comforteth any tree, and is fit to be practised more 
 
 O Q o
 
 ^92 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. V. 
 
 than it is in fruit-trees : for trees cannot be so fitly 
 removed into new grounds, as flowerr; and herbs may. 
 
 436. To revive an old tree, the digging of it about 
 the roots, and applying new mould to the roots, is the 
 way. We see also that draught-oxen put into fresh 
 pasture gather new and tender flesh ; and in all things 
 better nourishment than hath been used doth help to 
 renew ; especially if it be not only better, but changed 
 and differing from the former, 
 
 437. If an herb be cut off from the roots in the be- 
 ginning of winter, and then the earth be trodden and 
 beaten down hard with the foot and spade, the roots 
 will become of very great magnitude in summer. The 
 reason is, for that the moisture being forbidden to come 
 up in the plant, stayeth longer in the root, and dilateili 
 it. And gardeners use to tread down any loose ground 
 after they have sown onions, or tm-nips, etc. 
 
 438. \i paiiicum be laid below and about the bot- 
 tom of a root, it will cause the root to grow to an ex- 
 cessive bigness. The cause is, for that being itself of 
 a spongy substance, it draweth the moisture of the 
 earth to it, and so feedeth the root. This is of greatest 
 use for onions, turnips, parsnips, and carrots. 
 
 439. The shifting of ground is a means to better 
 the tree and fruit ; but with this caution, that all 
 things do prosper best when they are advanced to the 
 better : your nursery of stocks ought to be in a more 
 barren ground than the groimd is ^Nhercunto you re- 
 move them. So all grasiers prefer their cattle from 
 meaner pastures to better. We see also, that hard- 
 ness in youth lengtheneth life, because it leaveth a 
 cherishing to the better of the body in age : nay, 
 in exercises, it is good to begin with the hardest, as 
 dancing in thick shoes, etc. 
 
 440. It hath been observed, that hacking of trees in 
 their bark, both downright and across, so as you may 
 make them rather in slices than in continued hacks, doth 
 great good to trees; and epecially delivcreth them from 
 being hide-bound, and killeth their moss. 
 
 441. Shade to some plants conduceth to make 
 them large and prosperous, more than sun ; as in
 
 CENT, v.] NATURAL HISTORY. ^93 
 
 strawberries and bays, etc. Therefore uinoiig straw- 
 berries sow here and there some borage seed ; and you 
 shall find the strawberries under those leaves far 
 more large than their fellows. And bays you must 
 plant to the north, or defend them from the sun by a 
 hedge-row ; and when you sow the berries, weed 
 not the borders for the first half year ; for the weed 
 giveth them shade. 
 
 442. To increase the crops of plants, there would 
 be considered not only the increasing the lust of the 
 earth, or of the plant, but the saving also of that which 
 is spilt. So they have hitcly made a trial to set wheat ; 
 which nevertheless hath been left off, because of the 
 trouble and pains : yet so much is true, that there is 
 much saved by the setting, in comparison of that 
 which is sown : both by keeping it from being picked 
 up by birds, and by avoiding the shallow lying of it, 
 wliereby much that is sown taketli no root. 
 
 443. It is prescribed by some of the ancients, that 
 you take small trees, upon which figs or other fruit 
 grow, being yet unripe, and cover the trees in the mid- 
 dle of autumn with dung until the spring ; and then 
 take them up in a warm day, and rei)lant them in 
 good ground ; and by that means the former year's 
 tree will be ripe, as by a new birth, when other trees 
 of the same kind do but blossom. But this seemeth 
 to have no great probability. 
 
 444. It is reported, that if you take nitre, and min- 
 gle it with water, to the thickness of honey, and there- 
 with anoint the bud after the vine is cut, it will sprout 
 forth within eight days. The cause is like to be, if 
 the experiment be true, the opening of the bud and 
 of the parts contiguous, by the spirit of the nitre ; for 
 nitre is, as it w-ere, the life of vegetables. 
 
 445. Take seed, or kernels of apples, pears, oranges ; 
 or a peach, or a plum-stone, etc. and put them into a 
 squill, which is like a great onion, and they will come 
 up much earlier than in the earth itself. This I con- 
 ceive to be as a kind of grafting in the root ; for as 
 the stock of a graft yieldeth better prepared nourish- 
 ment to the graft, than the crude earth ; so the
 
 ^94 NATURAL HISTOJIY. [CENT. V. 
 
 squill dotli the like to the seed. And I suppose the 
 same would be done, by putting kernels into a turnip, 
 or the like ; save that the squill is more vigorous and 
 hot. It may be tried also, with putting onion-seed in- 
 to an onion-head, which thereby, perhaps, will bring 
 forth a larger and earlier onion. 
 
 446. The pricking of a fruit in several places, when 
 it is almost at its bigness, and before it ripeneth, hath 
 been practised with success, to ripen the fruit more 
 suddenly. We see the example of the biting of wasps 
 or worms upon fruit, whereby it manifestly ripeneth 
 the sooner. 
 
 447. It is reported, that alga marina, sea-weed, put 
 under the roots of colcworts, and, perhaps, of other plants, 
 will further their growth. The virtue, no doubt, hath 
 relation to salt, which is a great help to fertility. 
 
 448. It hath been practised, to cut off the stalks of 
 cucumbers, immediately after their bearing, close by 
 the earth ; and then to cast a pretty quantity of earth 
 upon the plant that remaineth, and they will bear the 
 next year fruit long before the ordinary time. The 
 cause may be, for that the sap goeth down the sooner, 
 and is not spent in the stalk or leaf, which remaineth 
 after the fruit. ^Vhere note, that the dying in the 
 winter of the roots of plants that are annual, seemeth 
 to be partly caused by the over-cxpence of the sap in- 
 to stalk and leaves ; which being prevented, they will 
 super-annuatc, if they stand warm. 
 
 449. The pulling off many of the blossoms from a 
 fruit-tree, doth make the fruit fairer. The cause is 
 manifest ; for that the sap hath the less to nourish. 
 And it is a common experience, that if you do not pull 
 off some blossoms the first time a tree bloometh, it will 
 blossom itself to death. 
 
 4,50. It were good to try, what would be the effect, 
 if all the blossoms were pulled from a fruit-tree: or 
 tlie acorns and chestnut-buds, etc. from a wild tree, for 
 two years together. I suppose that the tree will either 
 put forth the third year bigger and more plentiful 
 fruit; or else, the same years, larger leaves, because 
 of the sap stored up. 
 
 f
 
 CENT, v.] XATITRAL HISTOIIY. 395 
 
 451. It hath been generally received, that a plant 
 watered with warm water, will come up sooner and 
 better, than with cold water or with showers. But 
 our experiment of watering wheat with warm water, 
 as hath been said, succeeded not; which may be, be- 
 cause the trial was too late in the year, viz. in the end 
 of October. For the cold then coming upon the seed, 
 after it was made more tender by the warm water, 
 might check it. 
 
 452. There is no doubt, but that grafting, for the 
 most part, doth meliorate the fruit. The cause is ma- 
 nifest ; for that the nourishment is better ju'epared in 
 the stock, than in the crude earth : but yet note well, 
 that there be some trees that arc said to come up more 
 happily from the kernel than from the graft ; as the 
 peach and niolocotone. The cause I suppose to be, 
 for tliat those plants require a nourishment of great 
 moisture : and though the nourishment of the stock 
 be finer and better prepared, yet it is not so moist and 
 plentiful as the nourishment of the earth. And in- 
 deed we see those fruits are very cold fruits in their 
 nature. 
 
 453. It hath been received, that a smaller pear 
 grafted upon a stock that beareth a greater pear, will 
 become great. But I think it is as true as that of the 
 prime fruit upon the late stock ; and e cotwej'so ; 
 which we rejected before : for the cion will govern. 
 Nevertheless, it is probable enough, that if you can 
 get a cion to grow upon a stock of another kind, that 
 is much moister than its own stock, it may make the 
 fruit greater, because it will yield more plentiful nou- 
 rishment ; tliough it is like it will make the fruit 
 baser. But generally the grafting is upon a drier stock ; 
 as the apple upon a crab ; the pear upon a thorn, etc. 
 Yet it is reported, that in the Low-(Jountries they will 
 graft an apple cion ujion the stock of a colewort, 
 and it will bear a great flaggy apple ; the kernel of 
 which, if it be set, will be a colewort, and not an apple. 
 It were good to try whether an ap})le cion will pros- 
 per, if it be grafted upon a sallow, oi- n})on a poplar, 
 orupon an alder, or upon an elm, or upon an horse-
 
 396 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. V. 
 
 plum, whicli are the moistest of trees. I have heard 
 that it hath been tried upon an ehn, and succeeded. 
 
 454. It is manifest by experience, that flowers re- 
 moved wax greater, because the nourishment is more 
 easily come by in the loose earth. It may be, that oft 
 regrafting of the same cion may likewise make fruit 
 greater ; as if you take a cion, and graft it upon a 
 stock the first year ; and then cut it off, and graft it 
 upon another stock the second year ; and so for a third 
 or fourth year ; and then let it rest, it will yield after- 
 ward, when it beareth, the greater fruit. 
 
 Of grafting there are many experiments worth the 
 noting, but those we reserve to a proper place. 
 
 455. It maketh figs better, if a fig-tree, when it be- 
 ginneth to put forth leaves, have his top cut oflP. The 
 cause is plain, for that the sap hath the less to feed, 
 and the less way to mount : but it may be the fig will 
 come somewhat later, as was formerly touched. The 
 same may be tried likewise in other trees. 
 
 456. It is reported, that mulberries will be fairer, 
 and the trees more fruitful, if you bore the trunk of 
 the tree through in several places, and thrust into the 
 places bored wedges of some hot trees, as turpentine, 
 mastictrec, guaiacum, juniper, etc. The cause maybe, 
 for that advcntive heat doth chear up the native juice 
 of the tree. 
 
 457. It is reported, that trees will grow greater, 
 and bear better fruit, if you put salt, or lees of wine, 
 or blood to the root. The cause may be the increasing 
 the lust or spirit of the root ; these things being more 
 forcible than ordinary composts. 
 
 455. It is reported by one of the ancients, that ar- 
 tichokes will be less prickly, and more tender, if the 
 seeds liavc their tops dulled, or grated oifupon a stone. 
 
 459. Herbs will be tenderer and fairer, if you take 
 them out of beds, when they are newly come up, and 
 remove them into pots with better earth. The remove 
 from bed to bed was spoken of before ; but that was 
 in several years ; this is upon the sudden. The cause 
 is the same with other removes formerly mentioned. 
 
 460. Colevvorts are reported by one of the ancients
 
 CENT. V^] NATURAL HISTORY. 397 
 
 to prosper exceedingly, and to be better tasted, if they 
 be sometimes watered with salt water ; and much 
 more with water mixed with nitre ; the spirit of which 
 is less adurent than salt. 
 
 461. It is reported, that cucumbers will prove more 
 tender and dainty, if their seeds be steeped a little in 
 milk ; the cause may be, for that the seed being molli- 
 fied ^vitll the milk, will be too weak to draw the grosser 
 juice of the earth, but only the finer. The same ex- 
 periment may be made in artichokes and other seeds, 
 when you would take away cither their fiashiness or 
 bitterness. They speak also, that the like effect fol- 
 loweth of steeping in water mixed with honey ; but 
 that seemeth to me not so probable, because honey 
 hath too quick a spirit. 
 
 462. It is reported, that cucumbers will be less 
 watery, and more melon-like, if in the pit where you 
 set them, you fill it, half-way up, with chaff or small 
 sticks, and then pour earth upon them ; for cucum- 
 bers, as it seemeth, do extremely affect moisture, and 
 over-drink themselves ; which this chaff* or chips for- 
 biddeth. Nay, it is farther reported, that if, when a 
 cucumber is grown, you set a pot of water about five 
 or six inches distance from it, it will, in twenty-four 
 hours, shoot so much out as to touch the pot ; which, 
 if it be true, is an experiment of an higher nature 
 than belongeth to this title ; for it discovcreth percep- 
 tion in plants, to move towards that which should 
 help and comfort them, though it be at a distance. 
 The ancient tradition of the vine is far more strange ; 
 it is, that if you set a stake or prop at some distance 
 from it, it will grow that way ; which is far stranger, 
 as is said, than the other : for that water may work 
 by a sympathy of attraction ; but this of the stake 
 seemeth to be a reasonable discourse. 
 
 463. It hath been touched before, that tcrebration 
 of trees doth make them prosper better. But it is 
 found also, that it maketh the fruit sweeter and bet- 
 ter. The cause is, for that, notwitstanding the tcre- 
 bration, they may receive aliment sufficient, and yet no 
 more than they can well turn and digest : and withal
 
 398 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. V. 
 
 do sweat out the coarsest and improfitablest juice ; 
 even as it is in living creatures, wliich by moderate 
 feeding, and exercise, and sweat, attain the soundest 
 habit of body. 
 
 464. As terebration doth meliorate fruit, so upon 
 the like reason doth letting of plants blood ; as prick- 
 ing vines, or other trees, after they be of some growth ; 
 and thereby letting forth gum or tears ; though this 
 be not to continue, as it is in terebration, but at some 
 seasons. And it is reported, that by this artifice bitter 
 almonds have been turned into sweet. 
 
 465. The ancients for the dulcorating of fruit do 
 commend swines dung above all other dung ; which 
 may be because of the moisture of that beast, wliereby 
 the excrement hath less acrimony ; for we see swines 
 and pigs flesh is the moistest of fleshes. 
 
 466. It is observed by some, that all herbs wax 
 sweeter, both in smell and taste, if after they be grown 
 up some reasonable time, they be cut, and so you take 
 the latter sprout. The cause may be, for that the lon- 
 ger the juice stayeth in the root and stalk, the better 
 it concocteth. For one of the chief causes why grains, 
 seeds, and fruits, are more nourishing than leaves, is 
 the length of time in which they grow to maturation. 
 It were not amiss to keep back the sap of herbs, or 
 the like, by some fit means, till the end of summer ; 
 whereby, it may be, they will be more nourishing. 
 
 467. As grafting doth generally advance and me- 
 liorate fruits, above that which they would be if they 
 were set of kernels or stones, in regard the nourish- 
 ment is better concocted ; so, no doubt, even in graft- 
 ing, for the same cause, the clioice of the stock doth 
 much ; always provided, that it be somewhat inferior 
 to the cion: for otlierwise it dulleth it. They commend 
 much tlie grafting of pears or apples upon a quince. 
 
 468. Besides tlie means of melioration of fruits 
 before-mentioned, it is set down as tried, that a mix- 
 ture of bran and swines dung, or chaff and swines 
 dung, especially laid up togetlicr for a montli to rot, 
 is a very great nourislier and comforter to a fniit-trce. 
 
 469. It is delivered, that onions wax greater if
 
 CENT, v.] NATURAL HISTORY. 599 
 
 tliey be taken out of the earth, and Liid a drying 
 twenty days, and then set again ; and yet more, if 
 the outermost pill be taken off all over. 
 
 470. It is delivered by some, that if one take the 
 bough of a low fruit-tree newly budded, and draw it 
 gently, without hurting it, into an earthen pot per- 
 forate at the bottom to let in the plant, and then 
 cover the pot with earth, it will yield a very large 
 fruit within the ground. Which experiment is no- 
 thing but potting of plants without removing, and 
 leaving the fruit in the earth. The like, they say, 
 will be effected by an empty pot without earth in it 
 put over a fruit, being propped up with a stake, as 
 it hangeth upon the tree ; and the better, if some few 
 pertusions be made in the pot. Wherein, besides the 
 defending of the fruit from extremity of sun or wea- 
 ther, some give a reason, that the fruit loving and 
 coveting the open air and sun, is invited by those 
 pertusions to spread and approach as near the open 
 air as it can ; and so enlargeth in magnitude. 
 
 471. All trees in high and sandy grounds are to 
 be set deep ; and in watery grounds more shallow. 
 And in all trees, when they be removed, especially 
 fruit-trees, care ought to be taken, that the sides of the 
 trees be coasted, nortli and south, etc. as they stood 
 before. The same is said also of stone out of the 
 quarry, to make it more durable ; though that seemeth 
 to have less reason ; because the stone lieth not so near 
 the sun, as the tree groweth. 
 
 472. Timber trees in a coppice wood do grow better 
 than in an open field ; both because they offer not 
 to spread so much, but shoot up still in height ; and 
 chiefly because they are defended from too much sun 
 and wind, which do check the growth of all fruit; 
 and so, no doubt, fruit-trees, or vines, set upon a wall 
 against the sun, between elbows or buttresses of stone, 
 ripen more than upon a plain wall. 
 
 473. It is said, that if potado-roots be set in a pot 
 filled with earth, and then the pot with earth be set 
 likewise within the ground some two or three inches, 
 the roots will grow greater than ordinar}-. The cause
 
 400 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. V, 
 
 may be, for tliat having earth e]ioug;h \vithiii the pot 
 to nourish them ; and then being sto})ped by the bot- 
 tom of the pot from putting strings downward, they 
 must needs grow greater in breadth and thickness. 
 And it may be, that all seeds or roots potted, and so 
 set into the earth, will prosper the better. 
 
 474. The cutting off the leaves of radish, or other 
 roots, in the beginning of winter, before they wither, 
 and covering again the root something high with earth, 
 will preserve the root all winter, and make it bigger in 
 the spring following, as hath been partly touched be- 
 fore. So that there is a double use of this cutting off 
 the leaves ; for in plants 'svliere the root is the esculent, 
 as radish and parsnips, it will make the root the great- 
 er ; and so it will do to the heads of onions. And 
 where the fruit is the esculent, by strengthening the 
 root, it will make the fruit also the greater. 
 
 475. It is an experiment of great pleasure, to make 
 the leaves of shady trees larger than ordinary. It 
 hath been tried for certain that a cion of a weech-elm, 
 grafted upon the stock of an ordinary elm, will put 
 forth leaves almost as broad as the brim of one's hat. 
 And it is very likely, that as in fruit-trees the graft 
 maketh a greater fruit ; so in trees that bear no fruit, 
 it will make tlie greater leaves. It wovdd be tried 
 therefore in trees of that kind cliicfly, as birch, asp, 
 willow ; and especially the shining willow, which they 
 call s\vallow-tail, because of the pleasure of the leaf. 
 
 47(). The barrenness of trees by accident, besides 
 tlie weakness of the soil, seed, or root ; and the injury 
 of the weather, cometh cither of their overgrowing 
 with moss, or their being hide-bound, or their plant- 
 ing too deep, or ])y issuing of tlie sap too much into 
 the leaves. For all tliese there are remedies men- 
 tioned before. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching compound fruits aiul 
 flowers. 
 
 We see that in living creatures, that have male and 
 female, there is copulation of several kinds ; and so 
 compound creatures ; as the mule, that is generated
 
 CENT, v.] NATURAL IIISTORV. 401 
 
 betwixt the horse and tlie ass ; and some otlier com- 
 pounds which we call monstci'^, though more rare ; 
 and it is held that that proverb, " Africa semper ali- 
 ([uid monstri parit," cometh, for that the fountains of 
 waters there being rare, divers sorts of beasts come 
 from several parts to drink ; and so being refreshed, 
 fall to couple, and many times with several kinds. The 
 compounding or mixture of kinds in plants is not found 
 out ; which, nevertheless, if it be possible, is more at 
 command than that of living creatures ; for that their 
 lust requireth a voluntary motion ; wherefore it were 
 one of the most noble experiments touching plants to 
 find it out : for so you may have great variety of new 
 fruits and flowers yet unknown. Grafting doth it not: 
 that mendeth the fruit, or doublcth the flowers, etc. 
 but it hath not the power to make a new kind. For 
 the cion ever over-ruleth the stock. 
 
 477. It hath been set down by one of the ancients, 
 that if you take two twigs of several fruit-trees, and 
 flat them on the sides, and then bind them close toge- 
 ther and set them in the ground, they will come up in 
 one stock ; but yet they w ill put forth their several 
 fruits without any commixture in the fruit. Wliere- 
 in note, by the way, that unity of continuance is easier 
 to procure than unity of species. It is reported also, 
 that vines of red and white grapes being set in the 
 ground, and the upper parts being flatted and bound 
 close together, will put forth grapes of the several co- 
 lours upon the same branch ; and grape-stones of se- 
 veral colom'S within the same grape : but the more 
 after a year or two ; the unity, as it seemeth, grow- 
 ing more perfect. And this will likewise help, if from 
 the first uniting they be often watered ; for all mois- 
 ture helpeth to union. And it is prescribed also to 
 bind the bud as soon as it cometh forth, as well as the 
 stock, at the least for a time. 
 
 478. They report, that divers seeds put into a 
 clout, and laid in earth well dunged, will put up 
 plants contiguous ; which, afterwards, being bound 
 in, their shoots will incorporate. The like is said of
 
 402 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT^ V. 
 
 kernels put into a bottle with a narrow mouth filled 
 with earth. 
 
 479. It is reported, that young trees of several 
 kinds set contiguous without any binding, and very 
 often watered, in a fruitful ground, with the very lux- 
 ury of the trees will incorporate and grow togetlier. 
 Which seemeth to me the likeliest means that hath 
 been propounded ; for that the binding doth hinder 
 the natural swelling of the tree ; which, while it is in 
 motion, doth better unite. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the sympathy and anti- 
 pathy of plants. 
 
 There are many ancient and received traditions and 
 observations touching the sympathy and antipathy 
 of plants ; for that some will thrive best growing near 
 others, which they impute to sympathy ; and some 
 worse, which they impute to antipathy. But these 
 are idle and ignorant conceits, and forsake the true 
 indication of the causes, as the most part of experi- 
 ments that concern sympathies and antipathies do. 
 For as to plants, neither is there any such secret friend- 
 ship or hatred as they imagine ; and if we should be 
 content to call it sympathy and antipathy, it is utterly 
 mistaken, for their sympathy is an antipathy, and their 
 antipathy is a sympathy : for it is thus ; Wheresoever 
 one plant draweth a particular juice out of the earth, 
 as it qualifieth the earth, so that juice which remain- 
 eth is fit for the other plant ; there the neighbourhood 
 doth good, because the nourishments are contrary or 
 several : but where two plants draw much the same 
 juice, there the neighbourhood hurteth, for the one 
 deceiveth the other. 
 
 480. First therefore, all plants that do draw much 
 nourishment from the earth, and so soak the earth and 
 exhaust it, hurt all things that grow by them ; as great 
 trees, especially ashes, and such trees as spread tlieir 
 roots near the top of the ground. So the colewort is 
 not an enemy, though that were anciently received, 
 to the vine only ; but it is an enemy to any other 
 pl^nt, because it draweth strongly the fattest juice of
 
 CENT, v.] NATURAL HISTORY. 408 
 
 the earth. And if it be true, tliat the vine vvlien it 
 crccpcth near the colewort will turn away, thivS may 
 be, because there it iindeth worse nourishment ; for 
 though the root be where it was, yet, I doubt, the 
 plant will bend as it nourishcth. 
 
 481. Where plants are of several natures, and draw 
 several juices out of the eartli, there, as hath been said, 
 the one set by the other helpeth : as it is set down by 
 divers of the ancients, that rue doth prosper much, and 
 becometh stronger, if it be set by a fig-tree ; which, 
 we concei\'c, is caused not by reason of friendship, but 
 by extraction of a contrary juice : the one drawing 
 juice fit to result sweet, the other bitter. So they 
 have set down likewise, that a rose set by garlic is 
 sweeter : which likewise may be, because the more 
 fetid juice of the earth goeth into the garlic, and the 
 more odorate into the rose. 
 
 482. This we see manifestly, that there be certain 
 corn-flowers which come seldom or never in other 
 places, unless they be set, but only amongst corn ; as 
 the blue bottle, a kind of yellow marygold, wild pop- 
 py, and fumitory. Neither can this be, by reason of 
 the culture of the ground, by ploughing or furrowing : 
 as some herbs and flowers will grow but in ditches 
 new cast ; for if the ground lie fallow and unsown, 
 they will not come : so as it should seem to be the 
 corn that qualifieth the earth, and prepareth it for 
 their growth. 
 
 483. This observation, if it holdeth, as it is very 
 probable, is of great use for the meliorating of taste 
 in fruits and escvdent herbs, and of the scent of 
 flowers. For I do not doubt, but if the fig-tree do 
 make the rue more strong and bitter, as the ancients 
 have noted, good store of rue planted about the fig- 
 tree will make the fig more sweet. Now the tastes 
 that do most offend in fruits, and herbs, and roots, are 
 bitter, harsh, sour, and waterish, or flashy. It were 
 good therefore to make the trials following : 
 
 484. Take wormwood, or rue, and set it near let- 
 tuce, or coleflory, or artichoke, and see whether the 
 lettuce, or the coleflory, etc. become not the sweeter.
 
 404 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. V. 
 
 485. Take a service-tree, or a cornelian-tree, or an 
 elder-tree, which we know have fruits of harsh and 
 binding juice, and set them near a vine, or fig-tree, 
 and see whether the grapes or figs will not be the 
 sweeter. 
 
 486. Take cucumbers, or pumpions, and set them, 
 here and there, amongst musk-melons, and see wlie- 
 ther the melons will not be more winy, and better 
 tasted. Set cucumbers, likewise, amongst radish, 
 and see wliether the radish will not be made the more 
 biting. 
 
 487. Take sorrel, and set it amongst rasps, and see 
 whether the rasps will not be the sweeter. 
 
 488. Take common briar, and set it amongst vio- 
 lets or wall-flowers, and see whether it will not make 
 the violets or wall-flowers sweeter, and less earthy in 
 their smell. So set lettuce or cucumbers amongst rose- 
 mary or bays, and see whether the rosemary and bays 
 will not be the more odorate or aromatical. 
 
 489. Contrariwise, you must take heed how you 
 set herbs together, that draw much the like juice. 
 And therefore I think rosemary will lose in sweetness, 
 if it be set with lavender, or bays, or the like. But 
 yet if you will correct the strength of an herb, you 
 shall do well to set other like herbs by him to take 
 him down ; as if you should set tansey by angelica, it 
 may be the angelica would be the weaker, and fitter for 
 mixture in perfume. And if you should set rue by 
 common wormwood, it may be the wormwood would 
 turn to be liker Roman wormwood. 
 
 490. This axiom is of large extent ; and therefore 
 would be severed, and refined by trial. Neither must 
 you expect to have a gross difference by this kind of 
 culture, but only farther perfection. 
 
 491. Trial would be also made in herbs poisonous 
 and purgative, whose ill quality, perhaps, may be dis- 
 charged, or attem])ered, by setting stronger poisons or 
 purgatives by them. 
 
 492. It is reported, tliat the shrub called our ladies 
 seal, which is a kind of briony, and coleworts, set near 
 togetlier, one or botli will die. The cause is, for that
 
 CKNT. v.] NATITRAJ. HISTORY. 405 
 
 they be both great ilepredators of the earth, and one 
 of them starveth the other. The Hke is said of a reed 
 and a brake : both which are succulent ; and therefore 
 the one deceiveth the other. And the like of hem- 
 lock and rue; botli whicli (haw strong juices. 
 
 493. Some of the ancients, and likewise divers of 
 the modern writers, that have laboured in natural 
 magic, have noted a sympathy between the sun, moon, 
 and some principal stars, and certain herbs and plants. 
 And so they have denominated some herbs solar, and 
 some lunar ; and such like toys put into great words. 
 It is manifest that there arc some flowers tliat have 
 respect to the sun in two kinds, the one by opening 
 and shutting, and the other by bowing and inclining 
 the head. For marygolds, tulips, pimpernel, and in- 
 deed most flowers, do open and spread their leaves 
 abroad when the sun shineth serene and fair : and 
 again, in some part, close them, or gather them in- 
 ward, either towards night, or when the sky is over- 
 cast. Of this there needeth no such solemn reason to 
 be assigned ; as to say, that they rejoice at the pre- 
 sence of the sun, and mourn at the absence thereof. 
 For it is nothing else but a little loading of the leaves, 
 and swelling them at the bottom, with the moisture 
 of the air ; whereas the dry air doth extend them ; 
 and they make it a piece of the wonder, that garden 
 clover will hide the stalk when the sun sheweth bright: 
 which is nothing but a full expansion of the leaves. 
 For the bowing and inclining of the head, it is found 
 in the great flower of the sun, in marygolds, wart- 
 wort, mallow-flowers, and others. The cause is some- 
 what more obscure than the former ; but I take it be 
 no other, but that the part against which the sun 
 beateth waxeth more faint and flaccid in the stalk, 
 and thereby less able to support the flower. 
 
 494. What a little moisture will do in vegetables, 
 even though they be dead and severed from the earth, 
 appeareth well in the experiment of jugglers. They 
 take the beard of an oat ; which, if you mark it well, 
 is wreathed at the bottom, and one smooth entire straw 
 at the top. They take only the part that is wreatlied, 
 
 VOL. I. 2 I)
 
 406 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. V. 
 
 and cut off the other, leaving the beard half the 
 breadth of a finger in length. Then they make a 
 little cross of a quill, longways of that part of the 
 quill which hath the pith ; and cross-w'ays of that 
 piece of the quill without pith ; the whole cross being 
 the breadth of a finger high. Then they prick the 
 bottom where the pith is, and thereinto they put the 
 oaten beard, leaving half of it sticking forth of the 
 quill ; then they take a little white box of wood, to 
 deceive men, as if somewhat in the box did work the 
 feat : in which, \vitli a pin, they make a little hole, 
 enough to take the beard, but not to let the cross sink 
 down, but to stick. Then likewise, by way of im- 
 ' posture, they make a question ; as. Who is the fairest 
 woman in the company ? or. Who hath a glove or 
 card ? and cause another to name divers persons : and 
 upon every naming they stick the cross in the box, 
 having first put it towards their mouth, as if they 
 charmed it ; and the cross stirreth not ; but when they 
 come to the person that they would take, as they hold 
 the cross to their mouth, they touch the beard with 
 the tip of their tongue, and wet it ; and so stick the 
 cross in the box ; and then you shall see it turn finely 
 and softly three or four turns ; which is caused by tlie 
 untwining of the beard by the moisture. You may 
 see it more evidently, if you stick the cross between 
 your fingers instead of the box ; and therefore you may 
 see, that this motion, which is effected by so little 
 wet, is stronger than the closing or bending of the 
 head of a marygold. 
 
 495. It is reported by some, that the herb called 
 rosa solis, whereof they make strong waters, will, at 
 the noon-day, when the sun shine th hot and bright, 
 have a great dew upon it. And tlicrefore that the 
 riglit name is j^os solis: whicli they impute to a de- 
 light and sympathy that it hath with the sun. Men 
 favour wonders. It were good first to be sure, that 
 the dew that is found upon it, be not the dew of the 
 morning preserved, when the dew of other herbs is 
 breathed away ; for it hath a smooth and thick leaf, 
 that doth not discharge the dew so soon as other herbs
 
 CENT, v.] NATUl^AL HISTOr.V. 407 
 
 that are more spungy and porous. And it may be 
 purslane, or some other herb, doth the like, and is 
 not marked. But if it be so, that it hath more dew 
 at noon than in tlie morning, tlien sure it seemeth to 
 be an exudation of the herb itself As plums sweat 
 when they are set in the oven : for you will not, I 
 hope, think, that it is like Gideon's fleece of wool, 
 that the dew should fall upon that and no where 
 else. 
 
 496. It is certain, that the honey dews are found 
 more upon oak leaves, than upon ash, or beecli, or the 
 like : but whether any cause be from the leaf itself to 
 concoct the dew ; or whether it be only that the leaf 
 is close and smooth, and therefore drinketh not in the 
 dew, but preserveth it, may be doubted. It would be 
 well enquired, whether manna the drug doth fall but 
 upon certain herbs or leaves only. Flowers that have 
 deep sockets, do gather in the bottom a kind of honey; 
 as honey-suckles, both the woodbine and the trefoil, 
 lilies, and the like. And in them certainly the flower 
 beareth part with the dew. 
 
 497. The experience is,, that the froth which they 
 call woodseare, being like a kind of spittle, is found 
 but upon certain herbs, and those hot ones ; as laven- 
 der, lavender-cotton, sage, hyssop, etc. Of the cause 
 of this inquire farther ; for it seemeth a secret. There 
 falleth also mildew upon corn, and smutteth it ; but 
 it may be, that the same falleth also upon other herbs, 
 and is not observed. 
 
 498. It were good trial were made, whether the 
 great consent between plants and water, which is a 
 principal nourishment of them, will make an attrac- 
 tion at distance, and not at touch only. Therefore 
 take a vessel, and in the middle of it make a false 
 bottom of coarse canvas : fill it with earth above tlie 
 canvas, and let not the earth be watered ; then sow 
 some good seeds in that earth ; but imder the canvas, 
 some half a foot in the bottom of the vessel, lay a 
 great spunge thoroughly wet in water ; and let it lie 
 so some ten days, and see whether the seeds will 
 sprout, and the earth become more moist, and the 
 
 2 D 2
 
 408 NATURAL HTSTOUY. [CENT. V. 
 
 spunge more dry. Tlie experiment formerly men- 
 tioned of the cucumber creeping to the pot of water, 
 is far stranger than this. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the making Jierbs and 
 fruits medicinable. 
 
 499. The altering of the scent, colour, or taste of 
 fruit, by infusing, mixing, or letting into the bark, or 
 root of the tree, herb, or flower, any coloured, aroma- 
 tical, or medicinal substance, are but fancies. The 
 cause is, for that those things have passed their period, 
 and nourish not. And all alteration of vegetables in 
 those qualities must be by somewhat that is apt to go 
 into the nourishment of the plant. But this is true, 
 that where kine feed upon wild garlic, their milk tasteth 
 plainly of the garlic : and the flesh of muttons is better 
 tasted where the sheep feed upon wild thyme, and other 
 wholesome herbs. Galen also speaketh of the curing 
 of the scirrus of the liver, by milk of a cow that 
 feedeth but upon certain herbs ; and honey in Spain 
 smelleth apparently of the rosemary, or orange, from 
 whence the bee gathereth it : and there is an old tra- 
 dition of a maiden that was fed with napellus ; which 
 is counted the strongest poison of all vegetables, which 
 with use did not hurt the maid, but poisoned some 
 that had carnal company v^dth her. So it is observed 
 by some, that there is a virtuous bczoar, and another 
 without virtue, which appear to the shew alike : but 
 the virtuous is taken from the beast that feedeth upon 
 the mountains, where there are theriacal herbs ; and 
 that without virtue, from those that feed in the vallies 
 where no such herbs are. Thus far I am of opinion ; 
 that as steeped wines and beers arc very medicinal ; 
 and likewise bread tempered with divers powders ; so 
 of meat also, as flesh, fish, milk, and eggs, that they 
 may be made of great use for medicine and diet, if the 
 beasts, fowl, or fish, be fed with a special kind of food 
 fit for the disease. It were a dangerous thing also for 
 secret empoisonments. But whether it may be applied 
 unto plants and herbs, I doubt more ; because the 
 nourishment of them is a more common juice ; which
 
 CENT, v.] NATURAL HISTORY. 409 
 
 is hardly capable of any special quality, until the plant 
 do assimilate it. 
 
 500. But lest our incredulity may prejudice any 
 profitable operations in this kind, especially since many 
 of the ancients have set them down, we think good 
 briefly to propound the four means which they have 
 devised of making plants medicinable. The first is by 
 slitting of the root, and infusing into it the medicine ; 
 as hellebore, opium, scammony, treacle, etc. and then 
 binding it up again. This seemeth to me the least 
 probable ; because the root draweth immediately from 
 the earth ; and so the nourishment is the more com- 
 mon and less qualified : and besides, it is a long time 
 in going up ere it come to the fruit. The second way 
 is to perforate the body of the tree, and there to infuse 
 the medicine ; which is somewhat better : for if any 
 virtue be received from the medicine, it hath the less 
 way, and the less time to go up. The third is, the 
 steeping of the seed or kernel in some liquor wherein 
 the medicine is infused : which I have little opinion 
 of, because the seed, I doubt, will not draw the parts 
 of the matter which have the propriety : but it will 
 be far the more likely, if you mingle the medicine with 
 dung ; for that the seed naturally drawing the mois- 
 ture of the dung, may call in withal some of the pro- 
 priety. The fourth is, the watering of the plant oft 
 with an infusion of tlie medicine. This, in one res- 
 pect, may have more force than the rest, because the 
 medication is oft renewed ; whereas the rest are applied 
 but one at a time ; and therefore the virtue may the 
 sooner vanish. But still I doubt, that the root is some- 
 what too stubborn to receive those fine impressions ; 
 and besides, as I said before, they have a great hill to 
 go up. I judge therefore the likeliest way to be the 
 perforation of the body of the tree in several places 
 one above the other ; and the filling of the holes with 
 dung mingled with the medicine ; and the watering of 
 those lumps of dung with squirts of an infusion of the 
 medicine in dunged water, once in three or four days.
 
 NATURAL HISTORY. 
 
 CENTURY VI. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching curiosities about 
 fruits and plants. 
 
 -[^ Our experiments we take care to be, as we have oftea 
 said, either experimenta fructifera, or lucifera ; 
 cither of use, or of discovery : for we hate impostures, 
 and despise curiosities. Yet because we must apply 
 ourselves somewhat to others, we will set down some 
 curiosities touching plants. 
 
 501. It is a curiosity to have several fruits upon one 
 tree ; and the more, when some of them come early, 
 and. some come late ; so that you may have upon the 
 same tree ripe fruits all summer. This is easily done 
 by grafting of several cions upon several boughs, of a 
 stock, in a good ground plentifully fed. So you may 
 have all kinds of cherries, and all kinds of plums, and 
 peaches, and apricots, upon one tree ; but I conceive 
 the diversity of fruits must be such as will graft upon 
 the same stock. And. therefore I doubt, whether you 
 can have apples, or pears, or oranges, upon the same 
 stock upon which you graft plums. 
 
 502. It is a curiosity to have fruits of divers shapes 
 and figures. This is easily performed, by molding 
 them when the fruit is young, with molds of earth or 
 wood. So you may have cucumbers, etc. as long as a 
 cane ; or as round as a sphere ; or formed like a cross. 
 You may have also apples in the form of pears or 
 lemons. You may have also fruit in more accurate 
 figures, as we said, of men, beasts, or birds, according 
 as you make the molds. Wherein you must under- 
 stand, that you make the mold big enough to contain 
 the whole fruit when it is grown to the greatest : for
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAI, HISTORY 41 1 
 
 else you will choke the spreading of the fruit ; 
 which otherwise would sjrread itself, aud fill the con- 
 cave, and so he turned into the shape desired ; as it is 
 in mold works of liquid things. Some doubt may be 
 conceived, that the keeping of the sun from the fruit 
 may hurt it : but there is ordinary experience of fruit 
 that growetli covered. Query, also, whether some 
 small holes may not be made in the wood to let in the 
 sun. And note, that it were best to make the molds 
 partible, glued, or cemented together, that you may 
 open them when you take out the fruit. 
 
 503. It is a curiosity to have inscriptions, or en- 
 gravings, in fruit or trees. This is easily performed, 
 by writing with a needle, or bodkin, or knife, or the 
 like, when the fruit or trees are young ; for as they 
 grow, so the letters will grow more large and graphical. 
 
 — Tenerisque meos inciderc amores 
 Arboribus ; crescent illee, crcscetis amores. 
 
 504. You may have trees apparelled with flowers 
 or herbs, by boring holes in the bodies of them, and 
 putting into them earth holpen with muck, and set- 
 ting seeds, or slips, of violets, strawberries, wild thyme, 
 camomile, and such like, in the earth. Wherein they 
 do but grow in the tree as they do in pots ; though, 
 perhaps, with some feeding from the trees. It woidd 
 be tried also with shoots of vines, and roots of red roses ; 
 for it may be they, being of a more ligneous nature, 
 will incorporate with the tree itself. 
 
 505. It is an ordinary curiosity to form trees and 
 shrubs, as rosemary, juniper, and the like, into sundry 
 shapes ; which is done by molding them within, and 
 cutting them without. But they are but lame things, 
 being too small to keep figure ; great castles made of 
 trees upon frames of timber, with turrets and arches, 
 were matters of magnificence. 
 
 506. Amongst curiosities I shall place coloration, 
 though it be somewhat better : for beauty in flowers 
 is their pre-eminence. It is observed by some, that 
 gilly-ljowers, sweet-williams, violets, that are coloured, 
 if they be neglected, and neither watered, nor new
 
 4.12 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VI. 
 
 molded, nor transplanted, will turn white. And it is 
 probable that the white with much culture may turn 
 coloured. For this is certain, that the white colour 
 Cometh of scarcity of nomishment ; except in flowers 
 that are only white, and admit no other colours. 
 
 507. It is good therefore to see what natures do 
 accompany what colours ; for by that you shall have 
 light how to induce colours, by producing those na- 
 tures. Whites are more inodorate, for the most part, 
 than flowers of the same kind coloured ; as is found in 
 single white violets, white roses, white gilly-flowers, 
 white stock-gilly-flowers, etc. We find also that blos- 
 soms of trees, that are white, are commonly inodorate^ 
 as cherries, pears, plums; whereas those of apples, crabs, 
 almonds, and peaches, are blushy, and smell sweet. 
 The cause is, for that the substance that makcth the 
 flower is of the thinnest and finest of the plant, 
 which also maketh flowers to be of so dainty colours. 
 And if it be too sparing and thin, it attaineth no 
 strength of odour, except it be in such plants as are very 
 succulent ; whereby they need rather to be scanted in 
 their nourishment than replenished, to have them 
 sweet. As we see in white satyrion, which is of a dainty 
 smell ; and in bean-flowers, etc. And again, if the 
 plant be of nature to put forth white flowers only, and 
 those not thin or dry, they are commonly of rank and 
 fulsome smell ; as may-flowers, and white lilies. 
 
 508. Contrariwise, in berries the white is commonly 
 more delicate and sweet in taste than the coloured, as 
 we see in white grapes, in white rasps, in white straw- 
 berries, in white currants, etc. The cause is, for that 
 the coloured arc more juiced, and coarser juiced, and 
 therefore not so well and equally concocted ; but the 
 white are better proportioned to the digestion of the 
 plant. 
 
 509. But in fruits the white commonly is meaner : 
 as in pear-plums, damascenes, etc. and the choicest 
 plums are black ; the mulberry, which though they 
 call it a berry, is a fruit, is better the black than the 
 white. The harvest white plum is a base plum ; and 
 the verdoccio, and white date plum, are no very good
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAL HISTORY. 413 
 
 plums. The cause is, for that they are all over- watery ; 
 ■whereas an higher concoction is required for sweetness, 
 or pleasure of taste ; and therefore all your dainty 
 plums are a little dry, and come from the stone ; 
 as the muscle-plum, the damascene-plum, the peach, 
 the apricot, etc. yet some fruits, which grow not to be 
 black, are of the nature of berries, sweetest such as are 
 paler; as the coeur-cherry, which inclineth more to white, 
 is sweeter than the red ; but the cgriot is more sour. 
 
 510. Take gilly-flower seed, of one kind of gilly- 
 flower, as of the clove-gilly-flower, which is the most 
 common, and sow it, and there will come up gilly- 
 flowers, some of one colour, and some of another, 
 casually, as the seed mcetcth with nourishment in the 
 earth ; so that the gardeners find, that they may have 
 two or three roots amongst an hundred that are rare 
 and of great price ; as purple, carnation of several 
 stripes : the cause is, no doubt, that in earth, though it 
 be contiguous, and in one bed, there are very several 
 juices ; and as the seed doth casually meet with them, 
 so it Cometh forth. And it is noted especially, that 
 those which do come up purple, do always come up sin- 
 gle : the juice, as it scemcth, not being able to suffice 
 a succulent colour, and a double leaf. This experi- 
 ment of several colours coming up from one seed, would 
 be tried also in larks-foot, monks-hood, poppy, and holy 
 oak. 
 
 511. Few fruits are coloured red within : the queen- 
 apple is ; and another apple, called the rose-apple: mul- 
 berries, likewise, and grapes, though most toward the 
 skin. There is a peach also that hath a circle of red 
 towards the stone : and the egriot cherry is somewhat 
 red within ; but no pear, nor warden, nor plum, nor 
 apricot, although they have mauy times red sides, are 
 coloured red within. The cause may be inquired. 
 
 512. The general colour of plants is green, which 
 is a colour that no flower is of. There is a greenish 
 primrose, but it is pale, and scarce a green. The 
 leaves of some trees turn a little murry or reddish ; 
 and they be commonly young leaves that do so ; as it 
 is iu oaks, and vines, and hazle. Leaves rot into a
 
 414 NATURAL HISTORY. [cENT. ATI. 
 
 yellow, and some hollies have part of their leaves yel- 
 low, that are, to all seeming, as fresh and shining as 
 the green. I snppose also, that yellow is a less suc- 
 culent colour than green, and a degree nearer white. 
 For it hath been noted, that those yellow leaves of 
 holly stand ever towards the north or north-east. 
 Some roots are yellow, as carrots ; and some plants 
 blood-red, stalk and leaf, and all, as amaranthus. 
 8ome herbs incline to purple and red ; as a kind of 
 sage doth, and a kind of mint, and rosa solis, etc. 
 And some have white leaves, as another kind of sage, 
 and another kind of mint ; but azure and a fair purple 
 are never found in leaves. This sheweth, that flowers 
 are made of a refined juice of the earth, and so are 
 fruits ; but leaves of a more coarse and common. 
 
 513. It is a curiosity also to make flowers double, 
 which is effected by often removing them into new 
 earth ; as, on the contrary part, double flowers, by 
 neglecting and not removing, prove single. And the 
 way to do it speedily, is to sow or set seeds or slips of 
 flowers, and as soon as they come up, to remove them 
 into new ground that is good. Inquire also, whether 
 inoculating of flowers, as stock-gilly-flowers, roses, 
 musk -roses, etc. doth not make them double. There 
 is a cherry-tree that hath double blossoms ; but that 
 tree beareth no fruit : and it may be, that the same 
 means which, applied to the tree, doth extremely ac- 
 celerate the sap to rise and break forth, would make 
 the tree spend itself in flowers, and those to become 
 double : which were a great pleasure to see, especially 
 in apple-trees, peach-trees, and almond-trees, that 
 have blossoms blush-coloured. 
 
 514. The making of fruits without core or stone, is 
 likewise a curiosity, and somewhat better: because 
 whatsoever makcth them so, is like to make them 
 more tender and delicate. If a cion or shoot, fit to 
 be set in the ground, have tlie pith finely taken forth, 
 and not altogether, but some of it left, the better to 
 save the life, it will bear a fruit with little or no core 
 or stone. And the like is said to be of dividing a quick 
 tree down to the ground, and taking out the pith, and 
 then binding it up again.
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAL HISTORY. 415 
 
 515. It is reported also, that a citron grafted upon 
 a quince will have small or no seeds ; and it is very 
 probable that any sour fruit grafted upon a stock that 
 beareth a sweeter fruit, may both make the fruit 
 sweeter, and more void of the harsh matter of kcniels 
 or seeds. 
 
 516. It is reported, that not only the taking out of 
 the pith, but the stopping of the juice of the pith from 
 rising in the midst, and turning it to rise on the out- 
 side, will make the fruit without core or stone ; as if 
 you should bore a tree clean through, and put a wedge 
 in. It is true, there is some affinity between the pith 
 and the kernel, because they are both of a harsh sub- 
 stance, and both placed in the midst. 
 
 517. It is reported, that trees watered perpetually 
 with warm water, will make a fruit with little or no 
 core or stone. And the rule is general, that whatso- 
 ever will make a wild tree a garden tree, will make 
 a garden tree to have less core or stone. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the degenerating of plantsy 
 and of t/ie transmutation of them one into another. 
 
 518. The rule is certain, that plants for want of cul- 
 ture degenerate to be baser in the same kind ; and some- 
 times so fai* as to change into another kind. 1. The 
 standing long, and not being removed, maketh them 
 degenerate. 2. Drought, unless the earth of itself be 
 moist, doth the like. 3. 8o doth removing into worse 
 earth, or forbearing to compost the earth ; as we see 
 that water mint turneth into field mint, and the cole- 
 wort into rape, by neglect, etc. 
 
 519. Whatsoever fruit usetli to be set upon a root 
 or a slip, if it be sown, will degenerate. Grapes sown, 
 figs, almonds, pomegranate kernels sown, make the 
 fruits degenerate and become wild. And again, most 
 of those fruits that use to be grafted, if they be set of 
 kernels, or stones, degenerate. It is true that peaches, 
 as hath been touched before, do better upon stones set 
 than upon grafting : and the rule of exception should 
 seem to be this : that whatsoever plant requireth much 
 moisture, prospereth better upon the stone or kernel, 
 than upon the graft. For the stock, though it giveth
 
 1)16 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VI. 
 
 a finer nourishment, yet it giveth a scanter than the 
 earth at large. 
 
 520. Seeds if they be very old, and yet have 
 strength enough to bring forth a plant, make the 
 plant degenerate. And therefore skilful gardeners 
 make trial of the seeds before they buy them, whe- 
 ther they be good or no, by putting them in water 
 gently boiled ; and if they be good, they will sprout 
 within half an hour. 
 
 521. It is strange which is reported, that basil too 
 much exposed to the sun doth turn into wild thyme ; 
 although those two herbs seem to have small affinity; 
 but basil is almost the only hot herb that hath fat 
 and succulent leaves ; which oiliness, if it be drawn 
 forth by the sun, it is like it will make a very great 
 change. 
 
 522. There is an old tradition, that boughs of oak 
 put into the earth will put forth wild vines : which if it 
 be true, no doubt, it is not the oak that turneth into 
 a vine, but the oak-bough putrifying, qualifieth the 
 earth to put forth a vine of itself. 
 
 523. It is not impossible, and I have heard it veri- 
 fied, that upon cutting down of an old timber tree, 
 the stub hath put out sometimes a tree of another 
 kind ; as that beech hath put forth birch ; which, if it 
 be true, the cause may be, for that the old stub is too 
 scant of juice to put forth the former tree ; and there- 
 fore putteth forth a tree of a smaller kind, that need- 
 eth less nourishment. 
 
 524. There is an opinion in the country, that if 
 the same ground be oft sown with the grain that 
 grew upon it, it will in the end grow to be of a baser 
 kind. 
 
 525. It is certain, that in very steril years corn 
 sown will grow to another kind. 
 
 Grandia saepc quibiis niandavimus liordca sulcis, 
 Infclix lolium, ct sterilos dominantur uvunae. 
 
 And generally it is a rule, that plants that are brought 
 forth for cidture, as corn, will sooner cliange into other 
 species, tlian those that come of themselves ; for that
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAI, HISTORY. 417 
 
 culture giveth but au adventitious nature, whicli is 
 more easily put off. 
 
 This work of the transmutation of plants one into 
 another, is inter magnalia naturct ; for the trans- 
 mutation of species is, in the vulgar philosophy, pro- 
 nounced impossible : and certainly it is a thing of dif- 
 ficulty, and requireth deep search into nature ; but 
 seeing there appear some manifest instances of it, the 
 opinion of impossibility is to be rejected, and the 
 means thereof to be found out. We see, that in living 
 creatures, that come of putrefaction, there is much 
 transmutation of one into another ; as caterpillars turn 
 into flies, etc. And it should seem probable, that 
 whatsoever creature, having life, is generated with- 
 out seed, that creature will change out of one species 
 into another. For it is the seed, and the nature of it, 
 which locketh and boundeth in the creature, that it 
 doth not expatiate. So as wc may well conclude, that 
 seeing the earth of itself doth put forth plants with- 
 out seed, therefore plants may well have a transmi- 
 gration of species. Wherefore, wanting instances 
 which do occur, we shall give directions of the most 
 likely trials : and generally we would not have those 
 that read this our work of " Sylva sylvarum" account 
 it strange, or think that it is an over-haste, that we 
 have set down particulars untried ; for contrariwise, 
 in our own estimation, we account such particulars 
 more worthy than those that are already tried and 
 known : for these latter must be taken as you find 
 them ; but the other do level point-blank at the in- 
 venting of causes and axioms. 
 
 526. First therefore, you must make account, that 
 if you will have one plant change into another, you 
 must have the nourishment over-rule the seed : and 
 therefore you are to practise it by nourishments as 
 contrary as may be to the nature of the herb, so never- 
 theless as the herb may grow ; and likewise with seeds 
 that are of the weakest sort, and have least vigour. 
 You shall do well, therefore, to take marsh-herbs, and 
 plant them upon tops of hills and champaigns ; and 
 such plants as require much moisture, upon sandy and
 
 418 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VT. 
 
 very dry grounds. As for example, marsh- mallows 
 and sedge, upon hills ; cucumber, and lettuce seeds, 
 and coleworts, upon a sandy plot ; so contrariwise, 
 plant bushes, heath, ling, and brakes, upon a wet or 
 marsh ground. This I conceive also, that all esculent 
 and garden herbs, set upon the tops of hills, will prove 
 mpre medicinal, though less esculent, than they were 
 before. And it may be likewise, some wild herbs you 
 may make sallad herbs. This is the first rule for 
 transmutation of plants. 
 
 527. The second rule shall be, to bury some few 
 seeds of the herb you would change, amongst other 
 seeds ; and then you shall see whether the juice of 
 those other seeds do not so qualify the earth, as it will 
 alter the seed whereupon you Avork. As for example, 
 put parsley seed amongst onion seed, or lettuce seed 
 amongst parsley seed, or basil seed amongst thyme 
 seed ; and see the change of taste or otherwise. But 
 you shall do well to put the seed you w^ould change 
 into a little linen cloth, that it mingle not with the 
 foreign seed. 
 
 528. The third rule shall be, the making of some 
 medley or mixture of earth with some other plants 
 bruised or shaven either in leaf or root ; as for exam- 
 ple, make earth with a mixture of colewort leaves 
 stamped, and set in it artichokes or parsnips ; so take 
 earth made with marjoram, or origanum, or wild thyme, 
 bruised or stamped, and set in it fennel seed, etc. In 
 which operation the process of nature still will be, as 
 I conceive, not that the herb you work upon should 
 draw the juice of tlie foreign herb, for that opinion 
 we have formerly rejected, but that there will be a new 
 confection of mold, which perhaps will alter the seed, 
 and yet not to the kind of the former herb. 
 
 529. The fourth rule shall be, to mark what herbs 
 some earths do put forth of themselves ; and to take 
 that earth, and to pot it, or to vessel it ; and in that 
 to set the seed you would change : as for example, take 
 from under walls or the like, where nettles put forth 
 in abundance, tlie earth wliich you shall there find, 
 without any string or root of the nettles ; and pot that
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAL HISTORY. 419 
 
 earth, and set in it stock-gilly-flowers, or vvalUHowers, 
 etc. or sow in the seeds of them ; and see what the 
 event will be : or take earth that you liave prepared 
 to put forth mushrooms of itself, whereof you shall 
 find some instances following, and sow in it purslane 
 seed, or lettuce-seed ; for in these experiments, it is 
 likely enough that the earth being accustomed to send 
 forth one kind of nourishment, will alter the new seed. 
 
 530. The fifth rule sliall he, to make the herb grow 
 contrary to its nature ; as to make ground-herbs rise 
 in height: as for example, carry camomile, or wild thyme, 
 or the green strawberry, upon sticks, as you do ho})s 
 upon poles ; and see what the event will be. 
 
 531. The sixth rule shall be, to make plants grow 
 out of the sun or open air ; for that is a great muta- 
 tion in nature, and may induce a change in the seed : 
 as barrel up earth, and sow some seed in it, and put it 
 in the bottom of a pond ; or put it in some great hol- 
 low tree ; try also the sowing of seeds in the bottoms 
 of caves ; and pots with seeds sown, hanged up in wells 
 some distance from the water, and see what the event 
 will be. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the procerity, and lowness, 
 and artificial diuarfing of trees. 
 
 532. It is certain, that timber trees in coppice 
 woods grow more upright, and more free from under 
 boughs, than those that stand in the fields : the cause 
 whereof is, for that plants have a natural motion to 
 get to the sun ; and besides, they are not glutted with 
 too much noiu*ishment ; for that the coppice shareth 
 with them; and repletion ever hindereth stature: 
 lastly, they are kept warm ; and that ever in plants 
 belpeth mounting. 
 
 533. Trees that are of themselves full of heat, which 
 heat appcareth by their inflammable gums, as firs and 
 pines, mount of themselves in height without side 
 boughs, till they come towards the top. The cause is 
 partly heat, and partly tenuity of juice, both which send 
 the sap upwards. As for juniper, it is but a shrub, and 
 groweth not big enough in body to maintain a tall tree.
 
 420 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VI. 
 
 534. It is reported, that a good strong canvass spread 
 over a tree grafted low, soon after it putteth forth, will 
 dwarf it, and make it spread. The cause is plain ; for 
 that all things that grow, will grow as they find room. 
 
 535. Trees are generally set of roots or kernels ; 
 but if you set them of slips, as of some trees you may, 
 by name the mulberry, some of the slips will take ; and 
 those that take, as is reported, will be dwarf trees. The 
 cause is, for that a slip draweth nourishment more 
 weakly than either a root or kernel. 
 
 536. All plants that put forth their sap hastily, 
 have their bodies not proportionable to their length ; 
 and therefore they are winders and creepers ; as ivy, 
 briony, hops, woodbine : whereas dwarfing requireth a 
 slow putting forth, and less vigour of mounting. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the rudiments of plants^ and 
 of the excrescences of plants, or super-plants. 
 
 The Scripture saith, that Solomon wrote a Natural 
 History, " from the cedar of Libanus, to the moss 
 growing upon the wall : " for so the best translations 
 have it. And it is true that moss is but the rudiment 
 of a plant ; and, as it were, the mold of earth or bark. 
 
 537. INIoss groweth chiefly upon ridges of houses 
 tiled or thatched, and upon the crests of walls ; and 
 that moss is of a lightsome and pleasant green. The 
 growing upon slopes is caused, for that moss, as on the 
 one side it cometh of moisture and water, so on the 
 other side the water must but slide, and not stand or 
 pool. And the growing upon tiles, or walls, etc. is 
 caused, for that those dried earths, having not mois- 
 ture sufficient to put forth a plant, do practise germi- 
 nation by putting forth moss; though when, by age, 
 or otherwise, they grow to relent and resolve, they 
 sometimes put forth plants, as wall-flowers. And al- 
 most all moss hath here and there little stalks, besides 
 the low thrum. 
 
 538. INIoss groweth upon alleys, especially such as 
 lie cold and upon the nortli ; as in divers torrasscs : 
 and again, if they be much trodden ; or if they were
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAL HISTORY. 421 
 
 at the first gravelled ; for wheresoever plants are kept 
 down, the earth puttcth forth moss. 
 
 539. Old ground, that hath been long unbroken up, 
 gathereth moss : and ytlicrofore husbandmen use to 
 cure their pasture grounds when they grow to moss, 
 by tilling them for a year or two : which also depend- 
 eth upon the same cause ; for that the more sparing 
 and starving juice of the earth, insufficient for plants, 
 doth breed moss. 
 
 540. Old trees are more mossy far than young ; for 
 that the sap is not so frank as to rise all to the boughs, 
 but tireth by the way, and puttcth out moss. 
 
 541. Fountains have moss growing upon the ground 
 about them ; 
 
 Muscosi fontes — : 
 
 The cause is, for that the fountains drain the water 
 from the ground adjacent, and leave but sufficient 
 moisture to breed moss : and besides the coldness of 
 the water conduceth to the same. 
 
 542. The moss of trees is a kind of hair ; for it is 
 the juice of the tree that is excerned, and doth not 
 assimilate. And upon great trees the moss gathereth 
 a figure like a leaf 
 
 543. The moister sort of trees yield little moss ; as 
 we see in asps, poplars, willows, beeches, etc. which is 
 partly caused for the reason that hath been given, of 
 the frank putting up of the sap into the boughs ; and 
 partly for tliat the barks of tliose trees are more close 
 and smooth than those of oaks and ashes ; whereby 
 the moss can the hardlier issue out. 
 
 544. In clay-grounds all fruit-trees grow full of 
 moss, both upon body and boughs ; which is caused 
 partly by the coldness of the ground, whereby the plants 
 nourish less ; and partly by the toughness of the earth, 
 whereby the sap is shut in, and cannot get up to spread 
 so frankly as it should do. 
 
 545. We have said heretofore, that if trees be hide- 
 bound, they wax less fruitful, and gather moss ; and 
 that they are holpen by hacking, etc. And therefore, 
 by the reason of contraries, if trees be bound in with 
 
 VOL. I. 2 E
 
 422 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VI. 
 
 cords, or some outward bands, they will put forth 
 more moss : which, T think, happeneth to trees that 
 stand bleak, and upon the cold winds. It Wi idd also 
 be tried, whether, if you cover a tree somewhat thick 
 upon the top after his polling, it will not gather more 
 moss. I think also the watering of trees with cold 
 fountain- water, will make them grow full of moss. 
 
 546. There is a moss the perfumers have, which 
 cometh out of apple trees, that hath an excellent 
 scent. Qiiejy, particularly for the manner of the 
 growth, and the nature of it. And for this experi- 
 ment's sake, being a thing of price, 1 have set down 
 the last experiment how to multiply and call on 
 mosses. 
 
 Next unto moss, I will speak of mushrooms ; which 
 are likewise an imperfect plant. The mushrooms 
 have two strange properties ; the one, that they yield 
 so delicious a meat ; the other, that they come up so 
 hastily, as in a night ; and yet they are unsown. 
 And therefore such as are upstarts in state, they call 
 in reproach mushrooms. It must needs be, therefore, 
 that they be made of much moisture ; and that mois- 
 ture fat, gross, and yet somewhat concocted. And, 
 indeed, we find that mushrooms cause the accident 
 which we call incubus, or the mare in the stomach. 
 And therefore the surfeit of them may suffocate and 
 empoison. And this sheweth that they are windy ; 
 and that windincss is gross and swelling, not sharp or 
 griping. And upon the same reason mushrooms are 
 a venereous meat. 
 
 547. It is reported, that the bark of white or red 
 poplar, which are of the moistest of trees, cut small, 
 and cast into furrows well dunged, will cause the 
 ground to put forth mushrooms at all seasons of the 
 year fit to be eaten. Some add to the mixture leaven 
 of bread dissolved in water. 
 
 548. It is reported, that if a hilly field, where the 
 stubble is standing, be set on fire in a showery season, 
 it will put fortli great store of mushrooms. 
 
 549. It is reported, that hartshorn shaven, or in 
 small pieces, mixed witli dung and watered, putteth
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAL HISTORY. 423 
 
 up mushrooms. And we know that Iiartshorn is of a 
 fat and clammy substance : and it may be ox-horn 
 would do the like. 
 
 550. It hath been reported, though it be scarce 
 credible, that ivy hath grown out of a stag's horn ; 
 which they suppose did rather come from a confrica- 
 tion of the liorn upon the ivy, than from the horn 
 itself. There is not known any substance but earth, 
 and the procedures of earth, as tile, stone, etc. that 
 yieldeth any moss or herby substance. There may 
 be trial made of some seeds, as that of fennel-seed, 
 mustard-seed, and rape-seed, put into some little holes 
 made in the horns of stags, or oxen, to see if they 
 will grow. 
 
 551. There is also another imperfect plant, that 
 in sliew is like a great mushroom : and it is some- 
 times as broad as one's hat ; which they call a toad's 
 stool ; but it is not esculent ; and it groweth, com- 
 monly, by a dead stub of a tree, and likewise about the 
 roots of rotten trees : and therefore seemeth to take 
 his juice from wood putrified. Which sheweth, by 
 the way, that wood putrified yieldetli a frank mois- 
 ture. 
 
 552. There is a cake that groweth upon the side 
 of a dead tree^ that hath gotten no name, but it is 
 large, and of a chestnut colour, and hard and pithy : 
 whereby it should seem, that even dead trees forget not 
 their putting forth ; no more than the carcases of mens 
 bodies, that put forth hair and nails for a time. 
 
 553. There is a cod, or bag, that groweth com- 
 monly in the fields ; that at the first is hard like a 
 tennis-ball, and white ; and after groweth of a mush- 
 room colour, and full of light dust upon the breaking; 
 and is thought to be dangerous for the eyes if the 
 powder get into them ; and to be good for kibes. Be- 
 like it hath a corrosive and fretting nature. 
 
 554. There is an herb called Jews-ear, that grow- 
 eth upon the roots and lower parts of the bodies of 
 trees ; especially of elders, and sometimes ashes. It 
 hath a strange property ; for in warm water it swelleth, 
 and openeth extremely. It is not green, but of a 
 
 2 E 2
 
 424 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VI. 
 
 dusky brown colour. And it is used for squinancies 
 and inflammations in the throat ; whereby it seemeth 
 to have a mollifying and lenifying virtue. 
 
 555. There is a kind of spungy excrescence, which 
 groweth chiefly upon the roots of the laser-tree ; and 
 sometimes upon cedar and other trees. It is very 
 white, and light, and friable ; which we call agaric. 
 It is famous in physic for the purging of tough phlegm. 
 And it is also an excellent opener for the liver ; but 
 offensive to the stomach : and in taste, it is at the 
 first sweet, and after bitter. 
 
 556. We find no super-plant that is a formed plant, 
 but misseltoe. They have an idle tradition, that 
 there is a bird called a missel bird, that feedeth upon 
 a seed, which many times she cannot digest, and so 
 expelleth it whole with her excrement : which falling 
 upon the bough of a tree that hath some rift, putteth 
 forth the misseltoe. But this is a fable ; for it is not 
 probable that birds should feed upon that they cannot 
 digest. But allow that, yet it cannot be for other 
 reasons : for first, it is found but upon certain trees ; 
 and those trees bear no such fruit, as may allure that 
 bird to sit and feed upon them. It may be, that bird 
 feedeth upon the misseltoe-berries, and so is often 
 found there ; which may have given occasion to the 
 tale. But that which maketh an end of the question 
 is, that misseltoe hath been found to put forth under 
 the boughs, and not only above the boughs ; so it 
 cannot be any thing that falleth upon the bough. JMis- 
 seltoe groweth chiefly upon crab-trees, apple-trees, 
 sometimes upon hazles, and rarely upon oaks ; the 
 misseltoe whereof is counted very medicinal. It is 
 ever green winter and summer ; and beareth a white 
 glistering berry : and it is a plant utterly differing 
 from the plant upon which it growctli. Two things 
 therefore may be certainly set down : first, that super- 
 foetation must be by abundance of sap in the bough 
 that putteth it forth : secondly, that that sap must be 
 such as the tree doth excern, and cannot assimilate ; 
 for else it would go into a bough ; and besides, it 
 seemeth to be more fat and unctuous than the ordi-
 
 CENT. Vl.] NATURAL HISTORY. 125 
 
 nary sap of the tree ; both by the berry, wliich is 
 clammy ; and by that it continueth green winter and 
 summer, which the tree dotli not. 
 
 557. This experiment of misscltoe may give hght 
 to other practices. Therefore trial would be made 
 by ripping of the bough of a crab-tree in the bark ; 
 and watering of the wound every day with warm wa- 
 ter dunged, to see if it would bring forth misseltoe, 
 or any such like thing. But it were yet more likely 
 to try it with some other watering or anointing, that 
 were not so natural to the tree as water is ; as oil, 
 or barm of drink, etc. so they be such things as kill 
 not the bougli. 
 
 558. It were good to try, what plants would put 
 forth, if they be forbidden to put forth their natural 
 boughs ; poll therefore a tree, and cover it some thick- 
 ness with clay on the top, and see what it will put 
 forth. I suppose it will put forth roots ; for so will a 
 cion, being turned down into clay : therefore, in this 
 experiment also, the tree would be closed with some- 
 what that is not so natural to the plant as clay is. 
 Try it with leather, or cloth, or painting, so it be not 
 hurtful to the tree. And it is certain, that a brake 
 hath been known to grow out of a pollard. 
 
 559. A man may count the prickles of trees to be 
 a kind of excrescence ; for they will never be boughs, 
 nor bear leaves. The plants that have prickles are 
 thorns, black and white; brier, rose, lemon-trees, 
 crab-trees, gooseberry, berberry ; these have it in the 
 bough : the plants that have prickles in the leaf are, 
 holly, juniper, whin-bush, thistle ; nettles also have 
 a small venomous prickle ; so hath borage, but harm- 
 less. The cause must be hasty putting forth, want 
 of moisture, and the closeness of the bark ; for the 
 haste of the spirit to put forth, and the want of nou- 
 rishment to put forth a bough, and the closeness of 
 the bark, cause prickles in boughs ; and therefore they 
 are ever like a pi/ramis, for that the moisture spend- 
 eth after a little putting forth. And for prickles in 
 leaves, they come also of putting forth more juice 
 into the leaf than can spread in tlic leaf smooth, and
 
 4-26 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VI. 
 
 therefore the leaves otherwise are rough, as borage 
 and nettles are. As for the leaves of holly, they are 
 smooth, but never plain, but as it were with folds, 
 for the same cause. 
 
 560. There be also plants, that though they have 
 no prickles yet they have a kind of downy or velvet 
 rind upon their leaves ; as rose-campion, stock-gilly- 
 flowers, colt's- foot ; which down or nap cometh of a 
 subtil spirit, in a soft or fat substance. For it is 
 certain, that both stock-gilly-flowers and rose-cam- 
 pions, stamped, have been applied with success to the 
 wrists of those that have had tertian or quartan 
 agues ; and the vapour of colt's-foot hath a sanative 
 virtue towards the lungs ; and the leaf also is healing 
 in surgery. 
 
 561. Another kind of excrescence is an exudation 
 of plants joined with putrefaction ; as we see in oak- 
 apples, which are found chiefly upon the leaves of 
 oaks, and the like upon willows : and country people 
 have a kind of prediction, that if the oak-apple broken 
 be full of worms, it is a sign of a pestilent year ; which 
 is a likely thing, because they grow of corruption. 
 
 562. There is also upon sweet, or other brier, a fine 
 tuft or brush of moss of divers colours ; which if you 
 cut you shall ever find fidl of little white worms. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the producing of' perfect 
 plants without seed, 
 
 563. It is certain, that earth taken out of the foun- 
 dations of vaults and houses, and bottoms of wells, 
 and then put into pots, will put forth sundry kinds of 
 herbs : but some time is required for the germination : 
 for if it be taken but from a fathom deep, it will put 
 forth the first year ; if much deeper, not till after a 
 year or two. 
 
 564. The nature of the plants growing out of earth 
 so taken up, doth follow the nature of the mold itself; 
 as if tlie mold be soft and fine, it putteth fortli soft 
 herbs ; as grass, plantain, and the like ; if the earth 
 be harder and coarser, it putteth forth herbs more 
 rough, as thistles, firs. etc.
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAL HISTORY. 427 
 
 565. It is common experience, that where alleys 
 are close gi-avclled, tlie earth ]nittcth forth the first 
 year knot grass, and after spire grass. The canse is, 
 for that tlie hard gravel or pebble at the first laying 
 will not suffer the grass to come forth upright, but 
 turneth it to find his way where it can ; but after that 
 the earth is somewhat loosened at the top, the ordinary 
 grass Cometh up. 
 
 566. It is reported, that earth being taken out of 
 shady and watery woods some depth, and potted, will 
 put forth herbs of a fat and juicy substance ; as penny- 
 wort, purslane, houscleek, penny-royal, etc. 
 
 567. The water also doth send forth plants that 
 have no roots fixed in the bottom ; but they are less 
 perfect plants, being almost but leaves, and those 
 small ones ; such is that we call duck-weed, which 
 hath a leaf no bigger than a thyme leaf, but of a 
 fresher green, and jiutteth forth a little string into the 
 water far from the bottom. As for the water lily, it 
 hath a root in the ground ; and so have a number of 
 other herbs that grow in ponds, 
 
 568. It is reported by some of the ancients, and 
 some modern testimony likewise, that there be some 
 plants that grow upon the top of the sea, being sup- 
 posed to grow of some concretion of slime from the 
 water, where the sun beateth hot, and where the sea 
 stirreth little. As for alga inarina, sea weed, and 
 eryngium^ sea thistle, both have roots ; but the sea 
 weed under the water, the sea thistle but upon the 
 shore. 
 
 569. The ancients have noted, that there are some 
 herbs that grow out of snow laid up close together 
 and putrified, and that they are all bitter ; and they 
 name one specially, ^o;/^^/*, which we call moth-mul- 
 lein. It is certain, that worms are found in snow 
 commonly, like earth-worms ; and therefore it is not 
 unlike, that it may likewise put forth plants. 
 
 570. The ancients have affirmed, that there are 
 some herbs that grow out of stone ; which may be, 
 for that it is certain that toads have been found in the 
 middle of a free-stone. We see also that fiints, lying
 
 428 NATURAL HISTORY. [cENT. VI. 
 
 above ground, gather moss ; and wall-flowers, and 
 some other flowers grow upon walls ; but whether 
 upon the main brick or stone, or whether out of the 
 lime or chinks, is not well observed : for elders and 
 ashes have been seen to grow out of steeples ; but 
 they manifestly grow out of clefts ; insomuch as when 
 they grow big, they will disjoin the stone. And be- 
 sides, it is doubtful whether the mortar itself putteth 
 it forth, or whether some seeds be not let fall by 
 birds. There be likewise rock-herbs ; but I suppose 
 those are where there is some mold or earth. It 
 hath likewise been found, that great trees growing 
 upon quarries have put down their root into the 
 stone. 
 
 571. lu some mines in Germany, as is reported, 
 there grow in the bottom vegetables ; and the work- 
 folks use to say they have magical virtue, and will 
 not suffer men to gather them. 
 
 572. The sea sands seldom bear plants. Whereof 
 the cause is yielded by some of the ancients, for that 
 the sun exhaleth the moisture before it can incorpo- 
 rate with the earth, and yield a nourishment for the 
 plant. And it is affirmed also that sand hath always 
 its root in clay ; and that there be no veins of sand 
 any great depth within the earth. 
 
 573. It is certain that some plants put forth for 
 a time of their own store, without any nourishment 
 from earth, water, stone, etc. of which vide the ex- 
 periment 29. 
 
 Eocperiments in coiisort touching foreign plants. 
 
 574. It is reported, that earth that was brought 
 out of the Indies and other remote countries, for bal- 
 last of ships, cast upon some grounds in Italy, did put 
 forth foreign herbs, to us in Europe not known ; and, 
 that which is more, that of their roots, barks, and 
 seeds, contused together, and mingled with other 
 earth, and well watered with warm water, there came 
 forth herbs much like the other. 
 
 575. Plants brought out of hot countries will en- 
 deavour to ])ut forth at the same time that they usu-
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAL IIISTOIIY. 429 
 
 ally do ill their own climate ; and therefore to preserve 
 them, there is no more required, than to keep them 
 from the injury of putting back by cold. It is re- 
 ported also, that grain out of the liotter countries 
 translated into the colder, will be more forward than 
 the ordinary grain of tlie cold country. It is likely that 
 this will prove better in grains than in trees, for that 
 grains arc but annual, and so the virtue of the seed is 
 not worn out ; whereas in a tree it is embased by the 
 ground to which it is removed. 
 
 576. Many plants whicli grow in the hotter coun- 
 tries, being set in the colder, will nevertheless, even 
 in those cold countries, being sown of seeds late in 
 the spring, come up and abide most part of the sum- 
 mer ; as we find it in orange and lemon seeds, etc. the 
 seeds whereof sown in the end of April will bring 
 forth excellent sallads, mingled with other herbs. 
 And I doubt not, but the seeds of clove trees, and 
 pepper seeds, etc. if they could come hither green 
 enough to be sown, would do the like. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the seasons in which 
 plants comejorth. 
 
 577. There be some flowers, blossoms, grains, and 
 fruits, which come more early, and others which 
 come more late in the year. The flowers that come 
 early with us are primroses, violets, anemonies, wa- 
 ter-daffadillics, crocus vernus, and some early tulips. 
 And they are all cold plants ; whicli therefore, as it 
 should seem, have a quicker perception of the heat of 
 the sun increasing than the hot herbs have ; as a cold 
 hand will sooner find a little warmth than an hot. 
 And those that come next after, are wall-flowers, cow- 
 slips, hyacinths, rosemary flowers, etc. and after them 
 pinks, roses, flower-de-luces, etc. and the latest are 
 gilly-flowers, holyoaks, larksfoot, etc. The earliest 
 blossoms are the blossoms of peaches, almonds, corne- 
 lians, mezerions, etc. and they are of such trees as 
 have much moisture, either watery or oily. And 
 therefore crocus vernus also, being an herb that hath 
 an oily juice, puttetli forth early ; ibr those also find
 
 430 NATURAL HISTOEY. [CENT. VI. 
 
 the sun sooner than the drier trees. The grains are, 
 first rye and wheat ; then oats and barley ; then peas 
 and beans. For though green peas and beans be 
 eaten sooner, yet the dry ones that are used for horse- 
 meat, are ripe last ; and it seemeth that the fatter 
 grain cometh first. The earliest fruits are straw- 
 berries, cherries, gooseberries, currants ; and after 
 them early apples, early pears, apricots, rasps ; and 
 after them, damascenes, and most kind of plums, 
 peaches, etc. and the latest are apples, wardens, grapes, 
 nuts, quinces, almonds, sloes, brier-berries, hips, med- 
 lars, services, cornelians, etc. 
 
 578. It is to be noted, that, commonly, trees that 
 ripen latest, blossom soonest ; as peaches, cornelians, 
 sloes, almonds, etc. and it seemeth to be a work of 
 providence that they blossom so soon ; for otherwise 
 they could not have the sun long enough to ripen. 
 
 579. There be fruits, but rarely, that come twice a 
 year ; as some pears, strawberries, etc. And it seemeth 
 they are such as abound with nourishment ; whereby 
 after one period, before the sun waxeth too weak, they 
 can endure another. The violet also, amongst flowers, 
 cometh twice a year, especially the double white ; and 
 that also is a plant full of moisture. Roses come 
 twice, but it is not without cutting, as hath been 
 formerly said. 
 
 580. In INIuscovy, though the corn come not up till 
 late spring, yet their harvest is as early as ours. The 
 cause is, for that the strength of the ground is kept 
 in with the snow ; and we see with us, that if it be a 
 long winter, it is commonly a more plentiful year : 
 and after those kind of winters likewise, the flowers 
 and corn, which are earlier and later, do come com- 
 monly at once, and at the same time ; which troubleth 
 the husbandman many times ; for you sliall have red 
 roses and damask roses come together ; and likewise 
 the harvest of wheat and barley. But this happeneth 
 ever, for that the earlier stayeth for the later ; and 
 not that tlic later cometh sooner. 
 
 581 . There be divers fruit trees in the hot countries, 
 wliich have blossoms, and young fruit, and ripe fruit,
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAL HISTORY. 431 
 
 almost all the year, succeeding one another. And it 
 is said the orange hath the like with us, for a great 
 part of summer ; and so also hath the fig. And no 
 douht the natural motion of plants is to have so ; but 
 that either they want juice to spend; or they meet 
 with the cold of the winter : and therefore this circle 
 of ripening cannot be but in succulent plants, and hot 
 countries. 
 
 582. Some herbs are but annual, and die, root and 
 all, once a year ; as borage, lettuce, cucumbers, musk- 
 melons, basil, tobacco, mustard-seed, and all kinds of 
 corn : some continue many years ; as hyssop, german- 
 der, lavender, fennel, etc. The cause of the dying is 
 double ; the first is, tlie tenderness and weakness of 
 the seed, which maketh the period in a small time ; 
 as it is in borage, lettuce, cucumbers, corn, etc. and 
 therefore none of these are hot. The other cause is, 
 for that some herbs can worse endure cold ; as basil, 
 tobacco, mustard-sced. And these have all much heat. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the lasting of herbs and trees. 
 
 583. The lasting of plants is most in those that are 
 largest of body : as oaks, elm, chestnut, the loat-tree, 
 etc. and this holdeth in trees ; but in lierbs it is often 
 contrary : for borage, colewort, pompions, whicli are 
 herbs of the largest size, are of small durance ; whereas 
 hyssop, winter-savoury, germander, thyme, sage, will 
 last long. The cause is, for that trees last according 
 to the strength and quantity of their sap and juice ; 
 being well munited by their bark against the injuries 
 of the air : but herbs draw a weak juice, and have a 
 soft stalk ; and therefore those amongst them which 
 last longest, are herbs of strong smell, and with a 
 sticky stalk. 
 
 584. Trees that bear mast, and nuts, are commonly 
 more lasting than those that bear fruits ; especially 
 the moister fruits : as oaks, beeches, chestnuts, walnuts, 
 almonds, pine trees, etc. last longer than apples, pears, 
 plums, etc. The cause is the fatness and oilincss of 
 tlie sap ; which ever wasteth less than the more watery. 
 
 58.5. Trees that bring forth their leaves late in the
 
 432 NATURAL HISTOllY. [CENT. VI. 
 
 year, and cast them likewise late, are more lasting 
 than those that sprout their leaves early, or shed them 
 betimes. The cause is, for that the late coming forth 
 sheweth a moisture more fixed ; and the other more 
 loose, and more easily resolved. And the same cause 
 is, that wild trees last longer than garden trees ; and 
 in the same kind, those whose fruit is acid, more than 
 those whose fruit is sweet. 
 
 586. Nothing procureth the lasting of trees, bushes, 
 and herbs, so much as often cvitting : for every cutting 
 causeth a renovation of the juice of the plant ; that 
 it neither goeth so far, nor riseth so faintly, as when 
 the plant is not cut ; insomuch as annual plants, if you 
 cut them seasonably, and will spare the use of them, 
 and suffer them to come up still young, will last more 
 years than one, as hath been partly touched ; such as 
 is lettuce, purslane, cucumber, and the like. And for 
 great trees, we see ahnost all overgrown trees in church- 
 yards, or near ancient buildings, and the like, are 
 pollards, or dottards, and not trees at their full height. 
 
 587. Some experiment would be made, how by art 
 to make plants more lasting than their ordinary period ; 
 as to make a stalk of wheat, etc. last a whole year. 
 You must ever presuppose, that you handle it so as the 
 winter killeth it not ; for we speak only of prolonging 
 the natural period. I conceive that the rule will hold, 
 that whatsoever maketh the herb come later than at 
 its time, will make it last longer time : it were good 
 to try it in a stalk of wheat, etc. set in the shade, and 
 encompassed with a case of wood, not touching the 
 straw, to keep out open air. 
 
 As for the preservation of fruits and plants, as well 
 upon the tree or stalk, as gathered, we shall handle it 
 under the title of conservation of bodies. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the several Jigures of plants. 
 
 588. The particular figiu'es of plants we leave to 
 their descriptions ; but some few things in general we 
 will o])serve. Trees and herbs, in the growing forth 
 of" tlieir boughs and l)ranches, are not figured, and keep 
 no order. The cause is, for that the sap being restrained
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAL HISTORY. 433 
 
 in the rind and bark, breaketh not forth at all, as in 
 the bodies of trees, and stalks of herbs, till they begin 
 to branch ; and then when they make an eruption, 
 they break forth casually, where they find best way in 
 the bark or rind. It is true, that some trees are more 
 scattered in their boughs ; as sallow-trees, warden- 
 trees, quince-trees, medlar-trees, lemon-trees, etc. some 
 are more in the form of a pyramis, and come almost 
 to todd ; as the pear-tree, which the critics will have 
 to borrow his name of ttZ^, fire, orange-trees, fir-trees, 
 service-trees, lime-trees, etc. and some arc more spread 
 and broad ; as beeches, hornbeam, etc. the rest are 
 more indifferent. The cause of scattering the boughs, 
 is the hasty breaking forth of the sap ; and therefore 
 those trees rise not in a body of any height, but branch 
 near the ground. The cause of the pyramis is the 
 keeping in of the sap long before it branch ; and the 
 spending of it, when it beginneth to branch, by equal 
 degrees. The spreading is caused by the carrying up 
 of the sap plentifully without expence ; and then 
 putting it forth speedily and at once. 
 
 589. There be divers herbs, but no trees, that may 
 be said to have some kind of order in the putting forth 
 of their leaves : for they have joints or knuckles, as it 
 were stops in their germination ; as have gilly- flowers, 
 pinks, fennel, corn, reeds, and canes. The cause 
 whereof is, for that the sap ascendeth unequally, and 
 doth, as it were, tire and stop by the way. And it 
 seemeth they have some closeness and hardness in their 
 stalk, which hindereth the sap from going up, until it 
 hath gathered into a knot, and so is more urged to put 
 forth. And therefore they are most of them hollow 
 when the stalk is dry, as fennel-stalk, stubble, and 
 canes. 
 
 590. Flowers have all exquisite figures ; and the 
 flower numbers are chiefly five, and four ; as in prim- 
 roses, brier roses, single musk roses, single pinks, and 
 gilly-flowers, etc. which have five leaves : lilies, flower- 
 de-luces, borage, bugloss, etc. which have four leaves. 
 But some put forth leaves not numbered ; but they 
 are ever small ones ; as marygolds, trefoils, etc. We
 
 434 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VI. 
 
 see also, that the sockets and supporters of flowers are 
 figured ; as in the five brethren of the rose, sockets of 
 gilly-flowers, etc. Leaves also are all figured ; some 
 round ; some long ; none square ; and many jagged 
 on the sides ; which leaves of flowers seldom are. For 
 I account the jagging of pinks and gilly-flowers, to be 
 like the inequality of oak leaves, or vine leaves, or the 
 like : but they seldom or never have any small purls. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching some principal 
 differences in plants. 
 
 591. Of plants, some few put forth their blossoms 
 before their leaves ; as almonds, peaches, cornelians, 
 black thorn, etc. but most put forth some leaves before 
 their blossoms ; as apples, pears, plums, cherries, white 
 thorn, etc. The cause is, for that those that put forth 
 their blossoms first, have either an acute and sharp 
 spirit, and therefore commonly they all put forth early 
 in the spring, and ripen very late ; as most of the 
 particulars before mentioned, or else an oily juice, 
 which is apter to put out flowers than leaves. 
 
 592. Of plants, some are green all winter ; others 
 cast their leaves. There are green all winter, holly, 
 ivy, box, fir, yew, cypress, juniper, bays, rosemary, etc. 
 The cause of the holding green, is the close and com- 
 pact substance of their leaves, and the pedicles of them. 
 And the cause of that again is either the tough and 
 viscous juice of the plant, or the strength and heat 
 thereof. Of the first sort is holly ; which is of so 
 viscous a juice, as they make birdlime of the bark of 
 it. The stalk of ivy is tough, and not fragile, as we 
 see in other small twigs dry. Fir yicldetli pitch. Box 
 is a fast and heavy wood, as wc sec it in bowls. Yew 
 is a strong and tough wood, as we see it in bows. Of the 
 second sort is juniper, which is a wood odoratc ; and 
 makcth a hot fire. Bays is likewise a hot and aroma- 
 tical wood ; and so is rosemary for a shrub. As for 
 the leaves, their density appcareth, in that either they 
 are smooth and sliining, as in bays, liolly, ivy, box, etc. 
 or in that they arc hard and spiry, as in the rest. And 
 trial would be made of grafting of rosemary, and bays,
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAL HISTORY. 435 
 
 and box, upon a holly- stock ; because they are plants 
 that come all winter. It were good to try it also with 
 grafts of other trees, either fruit trees, or wild trees ; 
 to see whether they will not yield their fruit, or bear 
 their leaves later and longer in the winter; because 
 the sap of the holly putteth forth most in the winter. 
 It may be also a mezcrion-tree, grafted upon a holly, 
 will prove both an earlier and a greater tree. 
 
 593. There be some plants that bear no flower, and 
 yet bear fruit : there be some that bear flowers and no 
 fruit : there be some that bear neither flowers nor fruit. 
 Most of the great timber trees, as oaks, beeches, etc. 
 bear no apparent flowers ; some few likewise of the 
 fruit trees ; as mulberry, walnut, etc. and some shrubs, 
 as juniper, holly, etc. bear no flowers. Divers herbs 
 also bear seeds, which is as the fruit, and yet bear no 
 flowers ; as purslane, etc. Those that bear flowers and 
 no fruit are few ; as the double cherry, the sallow, etc. 
 But for the cherry, it is doubtful whether it be not by 
 art or culture ; for if it be by art, then trial would be 
 made, whether apple, and other fruits blossoms, may 
 not be doubled. There are some few that bear neither 
 fruit nor flower ; as the elm, the poplars, box, brakes, etc. 
 
 59-1. There be some plants that shoot still upwards, 
 and can support themselves ; as the greatest part of 
 trees and plants : there be some other that creep along 
 the ground ; or wind about other trees or projis, and 
 cannot support themselves ; as vines, ivy, brier, briony, 
 woodbines, hops, climatis, camomile, etc. The cause 
 is, as hath been partly touched, for that all plants 
 naturally move upwards ; but if the sap put up too fast, 
 it maketli a slender stalk, which will not support the 
 weight : and therefore these latter sort are all swift 
 and hasty comers. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching all manner of composts^ 
 and helps of ground. 
 
 595. The first and most ordinary help is stercora- 
 tion. The sheeps dung is one of the best ; and next 
 the dung of kine : and thirdly, that of horses, wliich 
 is held to be somewhat too hot unless it be mingled.
 
 4S6 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VI. 
 
 That of pigeons for a garden, or a small quantity of 
 ground, excelleth. The ordering of dung is, if the 
 ground be arable, to spread it immediately before the 
 ploughing and sowing ; and so to plough it in : for if 
 you spread it long before, the sun will draw out much 
 of the fatness of the dung : if the ground be grazing 
 ground, to spread it somewhat late towards winter ; 
 that the sun may have the less power to dry it up. 
 As for special composts for gardens, as a hot bed, etc. 
 we have handled them before. 
 
 596. The second kind of compost is, the spreading 
 of divers kinds of earths ; as marie, chalk, sea sand, 
 earth upon earth, pond earth : and the mixtures of 
 them. Marie is thought to be the best, as having 
 most fatness ; and not heating the ground too mucli. 
 The next is sea sand, which no doubt obtaineth a 
 special virtue by the salt : for salt is the first rudiment 
 of life. Chalk over-heateth the ground a little ; and 
 therefore is best upon cold clay grounds, or moist 
 grounds : but I heard a great husband say that it was 
 a common error, to think that chalk helpeth arable 
 grounds, but helpeth not grazing grounds ; whereas 
 indeed it helpeth grass as well as corn : but that which 
 breedeth the error is, because after the chalking of the 
 ground they wear it out with many crops without rest ; 
 and then indeed afterwards it will bear little grass, 
 because the ground is tired out. It were good to try 
 the laying of chalk upon arable grounds a little while 
 before ploughing ; and to plough it in as they do the 
 dung ; but then it must be friable first by rain or lying. 
 As for earth, it compostcth itself; for I knew a great 
 garden that had a field, in a manner, poured upon it ; 
 and it did bear fruit excellently the first year of the 
 planting : for the surface of the earth is ever the fruit- 
 fullest. And earth so prepared hath a double surface. 
 But it is true, as I conceive, that such earth as hath 
 salt-petre bred in it, if you can procure it %vithout too 
 much charge, doth excel. The way to hasten the 
 breeding of salt-pctre, is to forbid the sun, and the 
 growtli of vegetables. And therefore if you make a 
 large hovel, thatched, over some quantity of ground ;
 
 CENT. VI.] NATURAL HISTORY. 437 
 
 nay, if you do but plank the ground over, it will breed 
 salt-petre. As for pond earth, or river earth, it is a 
 very good compost ; especially if the pond have been 
 long uncleansed, and so the water be not too hungry : 
 and I judge it will be yet better if there be some mix- 
 ture of chalk. 
 
 597- The third help of ground is, by some other 
 substances that have a virtue to make ground fertile, 
 though they be not merely earth ; wherein ashes excel ; 
 insomuch as the countries about Mtna, and Vesuvius 
 have a kind of amends made them, for the mischief 
 the eruptions many times do, by the exceeding fruit- 
 fulness of the soil, caused by the ashes scattered about. 
 Soot also, though thin spread in a field or garden, is 
 tried to be a very good compost. For salt, it is too 
 costly ; but it is tried, that mingled with seed-com, 
 and sown together, it doth good : and I am of opinion, 
 that chalk in powder, mingled with seed-com, would 
 do good ; perhaps as much as chalking the ground all 
 over. As for the steeping of the seeds in several mix- 
 tures with water to give them vigour, or watering- 
 grounds with compost-water, we have spoken of them 
 before. 
 
 598. The fourth help of ground is, the suffering of 
 vegetables to die into the ground, and so to fatten it ; 
 as the stubble of corn, especially peas. Brakes cast 
 upon the groimd in the beginning of winter, will make 
 it very fruitful. It were good also to try whether 
 leaves of trees swept together, with some chalk and 
 dung mixed, to give them more heart, would not make 
 a good compost ; for there is nothing lost so much as 
 leaves of trees ; and as they lie scattered, and with- 
 out mixture, they rather make the ground sour than 
 otherwise. 
 
 599. The fifth help of ground is, heat and warmth. 
 It hath been anciently practised to bum heath, and 
 ling, and sedge, with the vantage of the wind, upon 
 the ground. We see that warmth of walls and inclo- 
 sures mendeth ground : we see also, that lying open 
 to the south mendeth ground : we see again, that the 
 foldings of sheep help ground, as well by their warmth 
 
 VOL. I. 2 F
 
 438 NATUUAI. HISTORY. [CENT. VI. 
 
 as by their compost : and it may be doubted, whether 
 the covering of the ground with brakes in the begin- 
 ning of the vsinter, whereof we spake in the last 
 experiment, helpeth it not, by reason of the warmth. 
 Nay, some very good husbands do suspect, that the 
 gathering up of flints in flinty ground, and laying them 
 on heaps, which is much used, is no good husbandry, 
 for that they would keep the ground warm. 
 
 600. The sixth help of ground is by watering and 
 irrigation ; which is in two manners ; the one by let- 
 ting in and shutting out waters at seasonable times : 
 for water at some seasons, and with reasonable stay, 
 doth good ; but at some other seasons, and with too 
 long stay, doth hurt : and this serveth only for mea- 
 dows which are along some river. The other way is, 
 to bring water from some hanging grounds, where 
 there are springs, into the lower grounds, carry'ing it 
 in some long fiu'rows ; and from those furrows, draw- 
 ing it traverse to spread the water. And this maketli 
 an excellent improvement, both for com and grass. It 
 is the richer, if those hanging grounds be fruitful, be- 
 cause it washeth off some of the fatness of the earth ; 
 but howsoever it profiteth much. Generally where 
 there are great overflows in fens, or the like, the 
 drowning of them in the winter maketh the summer 
 following more fruitful : the cause may be, for that it 
 keepeth the ground warm, and nourisheth it. But the 
 fen-men hold, tliat the sewers must be kept so as the 
 water may not stay too long in the spring till the 
 weeds and sedge be grown up ; for then the ground 
 will be like a wood, which keepeth out the sun, and 
 so continueth the wet ; whereby it will never graze to 
 purpose that year. Thus much for irrigation. But 
 for avoidances, and drainings of \vater, where there is 
 too much, and tlie helps of ground in that kind, we 
 shall speak of them in another place.
 
 NATURAL HISTORY. 
 
 CENTURY VII. 
 
 Expeiimenls in consort tonching the affinities and differences 
 between plants and inanimate bodies. 
 
 601. The differences between animate and inani- 
 mate bodies, we shall handle fully under the title of 
 life, and living spirits, and powers. We shall there- 
 fore make but a brief mention of them in this place. 
 The main differences are two. All bodies have spirits, 
 and pneumatical parts within them ; but the main 
 differences between animate and inanimate, are two : 
 the first is, that the spirits of things animate are all 
 continued vrithin themselves, and are branched in veins, 
 and secret canals, as blood is : and in living creatures, 
 the spirits have not only branches, but certain cells 
 or seats, where the principal spirits do reside, and 
 whereunto the rest do resort : but the spirits in things 
 inanimate are shut in, and cut off by the tangible 
 parts, and are not pervious one to another, as air is 
 in snow. The second main difference is, that the 
 spirits of animate bodies are all in some degree, more 
 or less, kindled and inflamed ; and have a fine com- 
 mixture of flame, and an aerial substance. But in- 
 animate bodies have their spirits no whit inflamed or 
 kindled. And this difference consisteth not in the 
 heat or coolness of spirits ; for cloves and other spices, 
 naptha and peti'olcum, have exceeding hot spirits, 
 hotter a great deal than oil, wax, or tallow, etc. but 
 not inflamed. And when any of those weak and 
 temperate bodies come to be inflamed, then they 
 gather a much greater heat than others have unin- 
 flamed, besides their light and motion, etc. 
 
 602. The differences, which are secondary, and 
 2 F 2
 
 440 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 proceed from these two radical differences, are, first, 
 plants are all figurate and determinate, which inani- 
 mate bodies are not ; for look how far the spirit is able 
 to spread and continue itself, so far goeth the shape 
 or figure, and then is determined. Secondly, plants 
 do nourish ; inanimate bodies do not : they have an 
 accretion, but no alimentation. Thirdly, plants have 
 a period of life, which inanimate bodies have not. 
 Fourthly, they have a succession and propagation of 
 their kind, which is not in bodies inanimate. 
 
 603. The differences between plants, and metals 
 or fossils, besides those four before mentioned, for 
 metals I hold inanimate, are these : first, metals are 
 more durable than plants : secondly, they are more 
 solid and hard : thirdly, they are wholly subterrany ; 
 whereas plants are part above earth, and part under 
 the earth. 
 
 604. There be very few creatures that participate 
 of the nature of plants and metals both ; coral is one 
 of the nearest of both kinds : another is vitriol, for 
 that is aptest to sprout with moisture. 
 
 605. Another special affinity is between plants and 
 mould or putrefaction : for all putrefaction, if it dis- 
 solve not in arefaction, will in the end issue into 
 plants or living creatures bred of putrefaction. I 
 account moss, and mushrooms, and agaric, and other 
 of those kinds, to be but moulds of the ground, walls, 
 and trees, and the like. As for flesh, and fish, and 
 plants themselves, and a number of other things, 
 after a mouldiness, or rottenness, or corrupting, they 
 will fall to breed worms. These putrefactions, which 
 have affinity with plants, have this difference from 
 them ; that they have no succession or propagation, 
 though they nourish, and have a period of life, and 
 have likewise some figure. 
 
 606. I left once by chance a citron cut, in a close 
 room, for three summer months that I was absent ; 
 and at my retimi there were grown forth, out of the 
 pith cut, tufts of hairs an inch long, with little black 
 heads, as if they would have been some herb.
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 441 
 
 Experiments in consort touching tJie affinities and differences 
 of' plants and living creatures^ and the coiifiners and par- 
 ticiples of them. 
 
 607. The affinities and differences between plants 
 and living creatures arc these that follow. They have 
 both of them spirits continued, and branched, and also 
 inflamed. But first in living creatures, the spirits 
 have a cell or seat, which plants have not ; as was 
 also formerly said. And secondly, the spirits of living 
 creatm-es hold more of flame than the spirits of plants 
 do. And these two arc the radical differences. For 
 the secondary differences, they are as follow : — First, 
 plants are all fixed to the earth, whereas all living 
 creatures are severed, and of themselves. Secondly, 
 living creatures have local motion, plants have not. 
 Thirdly, living creatures nourish from their upper 
 parts, by the mouth chiefly ; plants nourish from be- 
 low, namely, from the roots. Fourthly, plants have 
 their seed and seminal parts uppermost ; living crea- 
 tures have them lowermost : and tlierefore it was said, 
 not elegantly alone, but philosophically : " Homo est 
 planta in versa;" Man is like a plant turned upwards: 
 for the root in plants is as the head in living crea- 
 tures. Fifthly, living creatures have a more exact 
 figure than plants. Sixthly, living creatures have 
 more diversity of organs within their bodies, and, as 
 it were, inward figures, than plants have. Seventhly, 
 living creatures have sense, which plants have not. 
 Eighthly, living creatures have voluntary motion, 
 which plants have not, 
 
 608. For the difference of sexes in plants, they 
 are oftentimes by name distinguished ; as male-piony, 
 female-piony ; male rosemary, female-rosemary; he- 
 holly, she-holly, etc. but generation by copulation 
 certainly extendcth not to plants. The nearest ap- 
 proach of it is between the he-palm and the she- 
 palm, which, as they report, if they grow near, incline 
 the one to the other ; insomuch as, that which is more 
 strange, they doubt not to report, that to keep the 
 trees upright from bending, they tie roj)es or lines 
 from the one to the other, that the contact might be
 
 442 NATURAL HISTORY. [cENT. VII. 
 
 enjoyed by the contact of a middle body. But this 
 may be feigned, or at least amplified. Nevertheless 
 I am apt enough to think, that this same binarium 
 of a stronger and a weaker, like unto masculine and 
 feminine, doth hold in all living bodies. It is con- 
 founded sometimes ; as in some creatures of putrefac- 
 tion, wherein no marks of distinction appear : and it 
 is doubled sometimes, as in hermaphrodites : but ge- 
 nerally there is a degree of strength in most species. 
 
 609. The participles or confiners between plants 
 and living creatures, are such chiefly as are fixed, and 
 have no local motion of remove, though they have a 
 motion in their parts ; such as are oisters, cockles, and 
 such like. There is a fabulous narration, that in the 
 northern countries there should be an herb that 
 groweth in the likeness of a lamb, and feedeth upon 
 the grass, in such sort as it will bare the grass round 
 about. But I suppose that the figure maketh the 
 fable ; for so, we see, there be bee-flowers, etc. And 
 as for the grass, it seemeth the plant having a great 
 stalk and top doth prey upon the grass a good way 
 about, by drawing the juice of the earth from it. 
 
 Experiments promiscuous touching plants. 
 
 610. The Indian fig boweth its roots down so low 
 in one year, as of itself it taketli root again : and so 
 multiplieth from root to root, making of one tree a 
 kind of wood. The cause is the plenty of the sap, 
 and the softness of the stalk, which maketh the bough, 
 being over-loaden, and not stiffly upheld, weigh down. 
 It hath leaves as broad as a little target, but the fruit 
 no bigger than beans. The cause is, for that the 
 continual shade incrcaseth the leaves, and abateth the 
 fruit, which nevertheless is of a pleasant taste. And 
 that no doubt is caused by the suppleness and gentle- 
 ness of the juice of that plant, being that which 
 maketh the boughs also so flexible. 
 
 611. It is reported by one of the ancients, that there 
 is a certain Indian tree, having few but very great 
 leaves, three cubits long and two broad ; and that the 
 fruit, being of good taste, groweth out of the bark.
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 443 
 
 It may be, there be plants that pour out the sap so 
 fast, as they have no leisure either to divide into many 
 leaves, or to put forth stalks to the fruit. With us, 
 trees, generally, have small leaves in comparison. 
 The fig hath the greatest ; and next it the vine, mul- 
 berry, and sycamore ; and the least are those of the 
 willow, birch, and thorn. But there be found herbs 
 with far greater leaves than any tree; as the bur, 
 gourd, cucumber, and colewort. The cause is, like 
 to that of the Indian fig, the hasty and plentiful put- 
 ting forth of the sap. 
 
 612. There be three things in use for sweetness ; 
 sugar, honey, manna. For sugar, to the ancients it 
 was scarce known, and little used. It is found in 
 canes : Query, whether to the first knuckle, or further 
 up ? And wliether the very bark of tlie cane itself do 
 yield sugar or no ? For honey, the bee maketh it, 
 or gathereth it ; but I have heard from one that was 
 industrious in husbandry, that the labour of the bee 
 is about the wax ; and that he hath known in the 
 beginning of JMay honeycombs empty of honey ; and 
 within a fortnight, v^^hen the sweet dews fall, filled 
 like a cellar. It is reported also by some of the an- 
 cients, that there is a tree called Occhns, in the valleys 
 of Hyrcania, that distilleth honey in the mornings. 
 It is not unlike that the sap and tears of some trees 
 may be sweet. It may be also, that some sweet juices, 
 fit for many uses, may be concocted out of fruits, to 
 the thickness of honey, or perhaps of sugar : the like- 
 liest are raisins of the sun, figs, and currants ; the 
 means may be inquired. 
 
 613. Tlie ancients report of a tree by the Persian 
 sea, upon the shore sands, which is nomished Adth the 
 salt water ; and when tlie tide cbbeth, you shall see 
 the roots as it were bare without bark, being as it 
 seemeth corroded by the salt, and grasping the sands 
 like a crab ; which nevertheless beareth a fruit. It 
 were good to try some hard trees, as a service-tree, 
 or fir-tree, by setting them within the sands. 
 
 614. There be of plants which they use for gar- 
 ments, these that follow : hemp, fiax, cotton, nettles,
 
 444 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT.VII. 
 
 whereof they make nettle-cloth, sericum, which is a 
 growing silk ; they make also cables of the bark of 
 lime trees. It is the stalk that maketh the filaceous 
 matter commonly ; and sometimes the down tliat 
 groweth above. 
 
 615. They have in some countries a plant of a 
 rosy colour, which shutteth in the night, openeth in 
 the morning, and openeth wide at noon ; which the 
 inhabitants of those countries say is a plant that 
 sleepeth. There be sleepers enough then ; for almost 
 all flowers do the like. 
 
 61 6. Some plants there are, but rare, that have a 
 mossy or downy root ; and likewise that have a num- 
 ber of threads, like beards ; as mandrakes ; whereof 
 witches and impostors make an ugly image, giving 
 it the form of a face at the top of the root, and leav- 
 ing those strings to make a broad beard down to the 
 foot. Also there is a kind of nard in Crete, being a 
 kind of phu, that hath a root hairy, Hke a rough- 
 footed dove's foot. So as you may see, there are of 
 roots, bulbous roots, fibrous roots, and hirsute roots. 
 And, I take it, in the bulbous, the sap hasteneth 
 most to the air and sun ; in the fibrous, the sap de- 
 lighteth more in the earth, and therefore putteth 
 downward ; and the hirsute is a middle between both, 
 that besides the putting forth upwards and down- 
 wards, putteth forth in round. 
 
 617- There are some tears of trees, which are 
 combed from the beards of goats : for when the goats 
 bite and crop them, especially in tlie mornings, the 
 dew being on, the tear cometh forth, and hangeth 
 upon their beards : of this sort is some kind of lau- 
 danum. 
 
 618. The irrigation of the plane-tree by wine, is 
 reported by the ancients to make it fruitful. It would 
 be tried likewise witli roots; for upon seeds it worketli 
 no great effects. 
 
 619. The way to carry foreign roots a long way 
 is to vessel tlicm close in earthen vessels. But if the 
 vessels be not very great, you nuist niake some holes 
 in the bottom, to give some refreshment to the roots ;
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 445 
 
 which otherwise, as it seemeth, will decay and suf- 
 focate. 
 
 620. The ancient cinnamon was, of all other plants, 
 while it grew, the driest ; and those things which are 
 known to comfort other plants, did make that more 
 steril ; for in showers it prospered worst ; it grew also 
 amongst bushes of other kinds, where commonly plants 
 do not thrive ; neither did it love the sun. There 
 might be one cause of all those effects ; namely, the 
 sparing nourishment which that plant required. 
 Query, how far cassia, which is now the substitute of 
 cinnamon, doth participate of these things ? 
 
 621. It is reported by one of the ancients, that 
 cassia, when it is gathered, is put into the skins of 
 beasts newly flayed ; and that the skins corrupting 
 and breeding worms, the worms do devour the pith 
 and marrow of it, and so make it hollo^v ; but meddle 
 not with the bark, because to them it is bitter. 
 
 622. There were in ancient time vines of far greater 
 bodies than we know any ; for there have been cups 
 made of them, and an image of Jupiter. But it is 
 like they w^ere wild vines ; for the vines that they use 
 for wine, are so often cut, and so much digged and 
 dressed, that their sap spendeth into the grapes, and 
 so the stalk cannot increase much in bulk. The wood 
 of vines is very durable, without rotting. And that 
 which is strange, though no tree hatli the twigs, while 
 they are green, so brittle, yet the wood dried is ex- 
 treme tough ; and was used by the captains of armies 
 amongst the Romans for tlieir cudgels. 
 
 62^. It is reported, that in some places vines are 
 suffered to grow like herbs, spreading upon the ground; 
 and that the grapes of those vines arc very great. It 
 were good to make trial, whether plants that use to 
 be borne up by props, will not put forth greater leaves 
 and greater fruits if they be laid along the ground ; 
 as hops, ivy, woodbine, etc. 
 
 624. Quinces, or apples, etc. if you will keep them 
 long, drown them in honey ; but because honey, per- 
 haps, will give them a taste over-luscious, it were 
 good to make trial in powder of sugar, or in syrup of
 
 44)6 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 wine, only boiled to height. Both these would like- 
 wise be tried in oranges, lemons, and pomegranates ; 
 for the powder of sugar, and syrup of wine, will serve 
 for more times than once. 
 
 625. The conservation of fruit would be also tried 
 in vessels filled with fine sand, or with powder of 
 chalk : or in meal and flour ; or in dust of oak wood ; 
 or in mill. 
 
 626. Such fruits as you appoint for long keeping, 
 you must gather before they be full ripe ; and in a 
 fair and dry day towards noon ; and when the wind 
 bloweth not south ; and when the moon is under the 
 earth, and in decrease. 
 
 627. Take grapes, and hang them in an empty 
 vessel well stopped ; and set the vessel not in a cellar, 
 but in some dry place ; and it is said they will last 
 long. But it is reported by some, they will keep 
 better in a vessel half full of wine, so that the grapes 
 toucii not the wine. 
 
 628. It is reported, that the preserving of the stalk 
 helpeth to preserve the grape ; especially if the stalk 
 be put into the pith of elder, the elder not touching 
 the fruit. 
 
 629. It is reported by some of the ancients, that 
 fruit put in bottles, and the bottles let down into wells 
 under water, will keep long. 
 
 630. Of herbs and plants, some are good to cat 
 raw; as lettuce, endive, purslane, tarragon, cresses, 
 cucumbers, musk-melons, radish, etc. others only after 
 they are boiled, or have passed the fire ; as parsley, 
 clary, sage, parsnips, turnips, asparagus, artichokes, 
 though they also being young are eaten raw : but a 
 number of herbs are not esculent at all ; as worm- 
 wood, grass, green corn, centaury, hyssop, lavender, 
 balm, etc. The causes arc, for tliat the herbs tliat 
 are not esculent, do want the two tastes in which 
 nourishment resteth ; which are fat and sweet ; and 
 have, contrariwise, bitter and over-strong tastes, or 
 a juice so crude as cannot be ripened to the degree of 
 nourishment. Herbs and plants tliat are esculent raw, 
 have fatness, or sweetness, as all esculent fruits ; such
 
 CENT VII.] NATUllAL HISTORY. 447 
 
 are onions, lettuce, etc. But then it must be such 
 a fatness, (for as for sweet things, they are in effect 
 always esculent,) as is not over-gross, and loading of 
 the stomach : for parsnips and leeks have fatness ; but 
 it is too gross and heavy without boiling. It must be 
 also in a substance somewhat tender ; for we see 
 wheat, barley, artichokes, are no good nourishment 
 till they have passed the fire ; but the fire doth ripen, 
 and maketh them soft and tender, and so they become 
 esculent. As for radish and tarragon, and the like, 
 they are for condiments, and not for nourishment. 
 And even some of those herbs which are not esculent, 
 are notwithstanding poculent ; as hops, broom, etc. 
 Query, what herbs are good for drink besides the two 
 aforenamed ; for that it may perhaps ease the charge 
 of brewing, if they make beer to require less malt, or 
 make it last longer. 
 
 631. Parts fit for the nourishment of man in plants 
 are, seeds, roots, and fruits ; but chiefly seeds and 
 roots. For leaves, they give no nomishment at all, 
 or very little : no more do flowers, or blossoms, or 
 stalks. The reason is, for that roots, and seeds, and 
 fniits, inasmuch as all plants consist of an oily and 
 watery substance commixed, have more of the oily 
 substance ; and leaves, flowers, etc. of the watery. 
 And secondly, they are more concocted ; for the root 
 which continueth ever in the earth, is still concocted 
 by the earth ; and fruits and grains we see are half a 
 year or more in concocting ; whereas leaves are out 
 and perfect in a month. 
 
 632. Plants, for the most part, are more strong 
 both in taste and smell in the seed, than in the leaf 
 and root. The cause is, for that in plants that are 
 not of a fierce and eager spirit, the virtue is increased 
 by concoction and maturation, which is ever most in 
 the seed ; but in plants that are of a fierce and eager 
 spirit, they are stronger whilst the spirit is inclosed in 
 the root ; and the spirits do but weaken and dissipate 
 when they come to the air and sun ; as we see it in 
 onions, garlick, dragon, etc. Nay, there be plants 
 that have their roots very hot and aromatical, and
 
 448 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 their seeds rather insipid ; as ginger. The cause is, - 
 as was touched before, for that the heat of those 
 plants is very dissipable ; which under the earth is 
 contained and held in ; but when it cometh to the 
 air it exhaleth. 
 
 633. The juices of fruits are either watery or oily. 
 I reckon among the watery, all the fruits out of which 
 drink is expressed ; as the grape, the apple, the pear, 
 the cherry, the pomegranate, etc. And there are some 
 others which, though they be not in use for drink, yet 
 they appear to be of the same nature ; as plums, ser- 
 vices, mulberries, rasps, oranges, lemons, etc. and for 
 those juices that are so fleshy, as they cannot make 
 drink by expression, yet, perhaps, they may make 
 di'ink by mixture of water : 
 
 Poculaque admistis imitantur vitea sorbis. 
 
 And it may be hips and brier-berries would do the 
 like. Those that have oily juices, are olives, almonds, 
 nuts of all sorts, pine-apples, etc. and their juices are 
 all inflammable. And you must observe also, that 
 some of the watery juices, after they have gathered 
 spirit, will burn and inflame ; as wine. There is a 
 third kind of fruit that is sweet, without either sharp- 
 ness or oiliness : such as is the fig and the date. 
 
 634. It hath been noted, that most trees, and 
 specially those that bear mast, are fruitful but once 
 in two years. The cause, no doubt, is the expence 
 of sap ; for many orchard trees, well cultured, will 
 bear divers years together. 
 
 635. There is no tree, which besides the natural 
 fruit doth bear so many bastard fruits as the oak doth : 
 for besides the acorn, it beareth galls, oak apples, and 
 certain oak nuts, which are inflammable ; and certain 
 oak berries, sticking close to the body of the tree 
 without stalk. It beareth also misseltoe, though 
 rarely. The cause of all these may be the closeness 
 and solidness of the wood, and pith of the oak, which 
 makcth several juices find several cru2)tions. And 
 therefore if you will devise to make any super-plants,
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 449 
 
 you must ever give the sap plentiful rising and hard 
 issue. 
 
 636. There are two excrescences whicli grow upon 
 trees ; both of them in tlie nature of mushrooms : the 
 one the Romans call boletus ; which growcth upon 
 the roots of oaks ; and was one of the dainties of 
 their table ; the other is medicinal, that is called 
 agaric, whereof we have spoken before, which grow- 
 eth upon the to])s of oaks ; though it be affirmed by 
 some, that it groweth also at the roots. I do con- 
 ceive, that many excrescences of trees grow chiefly 
 where the tree is dead or faded ; for that the natural 
 sap of the tree corrupteth into some preternatural 
 substance. 
 
 637. The greater part of trees bear most and best 
 on the lower boughs ; as oaks, figs, walnuts, pears, 
 etc. but some bear best on the top boughs ; as crabs, 
 etc. Those that bear best below, are such as shade 
 doth more good to than hurt. For generally all 
 fruits bear best lowest ; because the sap tireth not, 
 having but a short way ; and therefore in fruits spread 
 upon walls, the lowest are the greatest, as was for- 
 merly said : so it is the shade that hindereth the 
 lower boughs ; except it be in such trees as delight 
 in shade, or at least bear it well. And therefore they 
 are cither strong trees, as the oak ; or else they have 
 large leaves, as the walnut and fig ; or else they grow 
 in pyramis, as the pear. But if they require very 
 much sun, they bear best on the top ; as it is in crabs, 
 apples, plums, etc. 
 
 638. There be trees that bear best when they be- 
 gin to be old ; as almonds, pears, vines, and all trees 
 that give mast. The cause is, for that all trees that 
 bear mast have an oily fruit ; and young trees have 
 a more watery juice, and less concocted ; and of the 
 same kind also is the almond. The pear likewise, 
 though it be not oily, yet it requireth much sap, and 
 well concocted ; for we see it is a heavy fruit and 
 solid ; much more than apples, plums, etc. As for 
 the vine, it is noted, that it beareth more grapes when
 
 450 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 it is young ; but grapes that make better wine when 
 it is old ; for that the juice is better concocted : and 
 we see that wine is inflammable ; so as it hath a kind 
 of oiliness. But the most part of trees, amongst 
 which are apples, plums, etc. bear best when they 
 are young. 
 
 639. There be plants that have a milk in them 
 when they are cut ; as figs, old lettuce, sow-thistles, 
 spurge, etc. The cause may be an inception of putre- 
 faction : for those milks have all an acrimony : though 
 one would think they should be lenitive. For if you 
 write upon a paper with the milk of a fig, the letters 
 will not be seen, until you hold the paper before the 
 fire, and then they wax bro^vn : which sheweth that 
 it is a sharp or fretting juice: lettuce is thought poison- 
 ous, when it is so old as to have milk ; spurge is a 
 kind of poison in itself; and as for sow-thistles, though 
 coneys eat them, yet sheep and cattle will not touch 
 them : and besides, the milk of them rubbed upon 
 warts, in short time weareth them away; which shew- 
 eth the milk of them to be corrosive. We see also that 
 wheat and other corn, sown, if you take them forth 
 of the ground before they sprout, are full of milk ; 
 and the beginning of germination is ever a kind of 
 putrefaction of the seed. Euphorbium also hath a 
 milk, though not very white, which is of a great acri- 
 mony : and saladine hath a yellow milk, which hath 
 likewise much acrimony ; for it cleanseth the eyes. It 
 is good also for cataracts. 
 
 640. Mushrooms are reported to grow, as well upon 
 the bodies of trees, as upon their roots, or upon the 
 earth ; and especially upon the oak. The cause is, 
 for that strong trees are towards such excrescences in 
 the nature of earth ; and therefore put forth moss, 
 mushrooms, and the like. 
 
 641. There is hardly found a plant that yioldeth 
 a red juice in the blade or ear ; except it be the tree 
 that beareth sa?iguis dracovis ; which growetli chiefly 
 in the island Socotra : the herb aniaran thus indeed is 
 red all over ; and brazil is red in the wood : and so 
 is red sandcrs. Tlie tree of the sanguis draconis
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 451 
 
 groweth in the form of a sugar-loaf. It is like the 
 sap of that plant concocteth in tlie body of the tree. 
 For we see that grapes and pomegranates are red in 
 the juice, but are green in the tear : and this maketh 
 the tree of saiiguis dracoms lesser towards the top ; 
 because the juice hasteneth not up ; and besides, it 
 is very astringent ; and therefore of slow motion. 
 
 642. It is reported, that sweet moss, besides that 
 upon the apple trees, groweth likewise sometimes 
 upon po])lars ; and yet generally the poplar is a smooth 
 tree of bark^ and hath little moss. The moss of the 
 larix-trec burnetii also sweet, and sparkleth in the 
 burning. Query of the mosses of odorate trees ; as 
 cedar, cypress, lignum alots, etc. 
 
 643. The death that is most without pain, hath 
 been noted to be upon the taking of the potion of 
 hemlock ; which in humanity was the form of exe- 
 cution of capital offenders in Athens. The poison of 
 the asp, that Cleopatra used, hath some affinity with 
 it. The cause is, for that the torments of death are 
 chiefly raised by the strife of the spirits ; and these 
 vapours quench the spirits by degrees ; like to the 
 death of an extreme old man. I conceive it is less 
 painful than opium, because opium hath parts of heat 
 mixed. 
 
 644. There be fruits that arc sweet before they be 
 ripe, as myrobalanes : so fennel seeds are sweet before 
 they ripen, and after grow spicy. And some never 
 ripen to be sweet ; as tamarinds, barberries, crabs, 
 sloes, etc. The cause is, for that the former kind 
 have much and subtle heat, which causeth early sweet- 
 ness ; the latter have a cold and acid juice, which no 
 heat of the sun can" sweeten. But as for the myro- 
 balane, it hath parts of contrary natures ; for it is 
 sweet and yet astringent. 
 
 645. There be fcv/ herbs that have a salt taste ; 
 and contrariwise all blood of living creatures hath a 
 saltness. The cause may be, for that salt, though it 
 be the rudiment of life, yet in plants the original taste 
 remaineth not ; for you shall have them bitter, sour, 
 sweet, biting, but seldom salt ; but in living creatures.
 
 452 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 all those high tastes may happen to be sometimes in 
 the humours, but are seldom in the flesh or substance, 
 because it is of a more oily nature ; which is not very 
 susceptible of those tastes ; and the saltness itself of 
 blood is but a light and secret saltness : and even 
 among plants, some do participate of saltness, as alga 
 marina, samphire, scurvy grass, etc. And they report, 
 there is in some of the Indian seas a swimming plant, 
 which they call salgazus, spreading over the sea in 
 such sort, as one would think it were a meadow, 
 is certain, that out of the ashes of all plants they ex- 
 tract a salt which they use in medicines. 
 
 646. It is reported by one of the ancients, that 
 there is an herb growing in the water, called lincostis, 
 which is full of prickles : this herb putteth forth an- 
 other small herb out of the leaf; which is imputed to 
 some moisture that is gathered between the prickles, 
 which putrified by the sun germinateth. But 1 re- 
 member also I have seen, for a great rarity, one rose 
 grow out of another like honeysuckles, that they call 
 top and top-gallants. 
 
 647. Barley, as appeareth in the malting, being 
 steeped in water three days, and afterwards the water 
 drained from it, and the barley turned upon a dry 
 floor, will sprout half an inch long at least : and if it 
 be let alone, and not turned, much more ; until the 
 heart be out. Wheat will do the same. Try it also 
 with peas and beans. This experiment is not like 
 that of the orpine and semper-vive : for there it is of 
 the old store, for no water is added : but here it is 
 nourished from the water. The experiment would 
 be farther driven : for it appeareth already, by that 
 which hath been said, that earth is not necessary to 
 the first sprouting of plants ; and we see that rose- 
 buds set in water will blow : therefore try whether 
 the sprouts of such grains may not be raised to 
 a farther degree, as to an herb, or flower, with water 
 only, or some small commixture of earth : for if they 
 will, it should seem by the experiments before, both 
 of the malt and of the roses, that they will come far 
 faster on in water than in earth ; for the nourishment
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 453 
 
 is casilier drawn out of water than out of earth. It 
 may give some light also, that (h-ink infused with 
 flesh, as that with the capon, etc. will nourish faster 
 and easilier than meat and drink together. Try the 
 same experiment with roots as well as with grains ; as 
 for example, take a turnip, and steep it a while, and 
 then dry it, and see whether it will sprout. 
 
 648. JMalt in the drenching will swell ; and that 
 in such a manner, as after the putting forth in sprouts, 
 and the drying U])on the kiln, there will be gained at 
 least a bushel in eight, and yet the sprouts are rubbed 
 off; and there will be a bushel of dust besides the 
 malt ; which I suppose to be, not only by the loose 
 and open lying of the parts, but by some addition of 
 substance drawn from the water in which it was 
 steeped. 
 
 649. ]\f alt gathereth a sweetness to the taste, which 
 appearcth yet more in the wort. The dulcoration of 
 things is worthy to be tried to the full ; for that dul- 
 coration importeth a degree to nourishment : and the 
 making of things inalimental to become alimental, 
 may be an experiment of great profit for making new 
 victual. 
 
 650. ]\Iost seeds in tlie gromng, leave their husk or 
 rind about the root ; but the onion will carry it up, that 
 it will be like a cap upon the top of the young onion. 
 The cause may be, for that the skin or husk is not 
 easy to break ; as we see by the pilling of onions, what 
 a holding substance the skin is. 
 
 651. Plants, that have curled leaves, do all abound 
 with moisture ; which comcth so fast on, as they can- 
 not spread themselves plain, but must needs gather 
 together. The weakest kind of curling is roughness ; 
 as in clary and burr. The second is curling on the 
 sides ; as in lettuce, and young cabbage : and the 
 third is folding into an head ; as in cabbage full grown, 
 and cabbage-lettuce. 
 
 652. It is reported, that fir and pine, especially if 
 they be old and putrified, though they shine not as 
 some rotten woods do, yet in the sudden breaking they 
 will sparkle like hard sugar. 
 
 VOL. L 2 G
 
 454 NATUllAI, HISTORY, [CENT. VII. 
 
 653. The roots of trees do some of them put down- 
 wards deep into the ground ; as the oak, pine, fir, etc. 
 Some spread more towards the surface of the earth ; 
 as the ash, cypress- tree, ohve, etc. The cause of this 
 latter may be, for that such trees as love the sun, do 
 not willingly descend far into the earth ; and there- 
 fore they are, commonly, trees that shoot up much ; 
 for in their body their desire to approach to the sun 
 maketh them spread the less. And the same reason 
 under ground, to avoid recess from the sun, maketh 
 them spread the more. And we see it cometh to 
 pass in some trees which have been planted too deep 
 in the ground, that for love of approach to the sun, 
 they forsake their first root, and put out another more 
 towards the top of the earth. And we see also, that 
 the olive is fiUl of oily juice ; and ash maketh the best 
 fire ; and cypress is an hot tree. As for the oak, 
 which is of the former sort, it loveth the earth ; and 
 therefore groweth slowly. And for the pine and fir 
 likewise, they have so much heat in themselves, as 
 they need less the heat of the sun. There be herbs 
 also that have the same difference ; as the herb they 
 call inorsus diaboli ; which putteth the root down so 
 low, as you cannot pull it up without breaking; 
 which gave occasion to the name and fable ; for that 
 it was said, it was so wholesome a root, that the devil, 
 when it was gathered, bit it for envy : and some of 
 the ancients do report, that there was a goodly fir, 
 which they desired to remove whole, that had a root 
 under ground eight cubits deep ; and so the root came 
 up broken. 
 
 654. It hath been observed, that a branch of a tree, 
 being unbarked some space at the bottom, and so set 
 into the ground, hath grown ; even of such trees, as 
 if the branch were set with tlic bark on, they would 
 not grow ; yet contrariwise we sec, that a tree pared 
 round in the body above ground, will die. The cause 
 may be, for that the unbarked part draweth the nou- 
 rishment best, but the bark continueth it only. 
 
 655. Grapes will continue fresh and moist all win- 
 ter long, if you hang tliem cluster by cluster in the
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 455 
 
 roof of a warm room ; especially if when you gather 
 the cluster, you take off with the cluster some of the 
 stock. 
 
 656. The reed or cane is a watery plant, and 
 groweth not but in the water : it hath these properties ; 
 that it is hollow : that it is knuckled both stalk and 
 root ; that being dry, it is more hard and fragile than 
 other wood ; that it putteth forth no boughs, though 
 many stalks out of one root. It differeth much 
 in greatness ; the smallest being fit for thatching of 
 houses, and stopping the chinks of ships, better than 
 glue or pitch. The second bigness is used for angle- 
 rods and staves ; and in China for beating of offenders 
 upon the thighs. The differing kinds of them arc, 
 the common reed, the cassia fistula, and the sugar- 
 reed. Of all plants it boweth the easiest, and riseth 
 again. It seemeth, that amongst plants which are 
 nourished with mixture of earth and water, it draweth 
 most nourishment from water : which maketh it the 
 smoothest of all others in bark, and the hoUowest in 
 body. 
 
 657. The sap of trees when they are let blood, is 
 of differing natures. Some more watery and clear ; 
 as that of vines, of beeches, of pears : some thick, as 
 apples : some gummy, as cherries : some frothy, as 
 elms : some milky, as figs. In mulberries the sap 
 seemeth to be almost towards the bark only ; for if you 
 cut tlic tree a little into the bark with a stone, it will 
 come forth ; if you pierce it deeper with a tool, it will 
 be dry. The trees which have the moistest juices in 
 their fruit, have commonly the moistest sap in their 
 body ; for the vines and pears are very moist ; apples 
 somewhat more spungy : the milk of the fig hath the 
 quality of the rennet, to gather cheese ; and so have 
 certain sour herbs wherewith they make cheese in Lent. 
 
 658. The timber and wood are in some trees more 
 clean, in some more knotty ; and it is a good trial to 
 try it by speaking at one end, and laying the car at 
 the other : for if it be knotty, the voice will not pass 
 well. Some have the veins more varied and cliam- 
 bletted ; as oak, whereof wainscot is made ; maple, 
 
 2g 2
 
 4i56 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 whereof trenchers are made : some more smooth, as fir 
 and wahiut : some do more easily breed worms and 
 spiders ; some more hardly, as it is said of Irish trees : 
 besides there be a number of differences that concern 
 their use ; as oak, cedar, and chestnut, are the best 
 builders ; some are best for plough -timber, as ash ; some 
 for piers, that are sometimes wet and sometimes dry, 
 as elm ; some for planchers, as deal ; some for tables, 
 cupboards, and desks, as walnuts ; some for ship-timber, 
 as oaks that grow in moist grounds ; for that maketh 
 the timber tough, and not apt to rift with ordnance ; 
 wherein English and Irish timber are thought to excel : 
 some for masts of ships, as fir and pine, because of 
 their length, straightness, and lightness : some for pale, 
 as oak ; some for fuel, as ash ; and so of the rest. 
 
 659. The coming of trees and plants in certain 
 regions, and not in others, is sometimes casual : for 
 many have been translated, and have prospered well ; 
 as damask-roses, that have not been known in Eng- 
 land above an hundi'ed years, and now are so common. 
 But the liking of plants in certain soils more than in 
 others, is merely natural ; as the fir and pine love the 
 mountains ; the poplar, willow, sallow, and alder, love 
 rivers and moist places ; the ash loveth coppices, but 
 is best in standards alone ; juniper loveth chalk ; and 
 so do most fruit trees ; samphire groweth but upon 
 rocks ; reeds and osiers grow where they are washed 
 with water ; the vine loveth sides of hills, turning 
 upon the south-east sun, etc. 
 
 660. The putting forth of certain herbs discovereth 
 of what nature the ground where they put forth is ; 
 as wild thyme sheweth good feeding-ground for cattle ; 
 betony and strawberries shew grounds fit for wood ; 
 camomile sheweth mellow grounds fit for wheat. Mus- 
 tard-seed, growing after the plough, sheweth a good 
 strong ground also for wheat : burnet sheweth good 
 meadow, and the like. 
 
 661 . There are found in divers countries some other 
 plants that grow out of trees and plants, besides mis- 
 seltoe : as in Syria there is an herb called cassytas, 
 that growetli out of tall trees, and windeth itself about
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 457 
 
 the same tree wliere it growetli, and sometimes about 
 thorns. There is a kind of polypode that growetli out 
 of trees, thougli it windeth not. So likewise an herb 
 called faiuios, upon the wild olive. And an licrb 
 called hippopluunton upon the fullers thorn : wliicli, 
 they say, is good for the falling sickness. 
 
 ^^2. It hath been observed by some of the ancients, 
 that howsoever cold or easterly winds are thouglit to 
 be great enfMuies to fruit, yet nevertheless south winds 
 are also found to do hurt, especially in the blossoming 
 time : and the more if showers follow. It seemeth 
 they call forth the moisture too fast. The west winds 
 are the best. It hath been observed also, that green 
 and open winters do hurt trees ; insomuch as if two 
 or three such winters come together, almond-trees, and 
 some other trees, will die. The cause is the same with 
 the former, because the lust of the earth over-spendeth 
 itself: howsoever some other of the ancients have com- 
 mended warm winters. 
 
 663. Snows lying long cause a fruitful year ; for 
 first, they keep in the strength of the earth ; secondly, 
 they water the earth better than rain : for in snow, the 
 earth doth, as it were, suck the water as out of the 
 teat : thirdly, the moisture of snon- is the finest mois- 
 ture, for it is the froth of the cloudy waters. 
 
 QQ^. Showers, if they come a little before the ripe- 
 nintr of fruits, do o-ood to all succulent and moist 
 fruits ; as vines, olives, pomegranates ; yet it is rather 
 for ])lenty than for goodness ; for the best vines are in 
 the driest vintages : small showers are likewise good 
 for corn, so as parching heats come not upon them. 
 Generally night showers are better than day showers, 
 for that the sun followeth not so fast upon them ; and 
 we see even in watering by the hand, it is best in 
 summer time to water in the evening. 
 
 665. The differences of earths, and the trial of them, 
 are worthy to be diligently inquired. The earth, that 
 with showers doth easiliest soften, is commended ; and 
 yet some earth of that kind will be very dry and hard 
 before the showers. The earth that casteth up from 
 the plough a great clod, is not so good as that which
 
 4i5S NATURAL HISTORY. [cENT. VII. 
 
 castetli up a smaller clod. The earth that putteth 
 forth moss easily, and may be called moiddy, is not 
 good. The earth that smelleth well upon the digging, 
 or ploughing, is commended ; as containing the juice 
 of vegetables almost already prepared. It is thought 
 by some, that the ends of low rainbows fall more upon 
 one kind of earth than upon another ; as it may well 
 be ; for that that earth is most roscid : and therefore 
 it is commended for a sign of good earth. The poor- 
 ness of the herbs, it is plain, shew the poorness of the 
 earth ; and especially if they be in colour more dark : 
 but if the herbs shew withered, or blasted at the top, 
 it sheweth the earth to be very cold ; and so doth the 
 mossiness of trees. The earth, whereof the grass is 
 soon parched with the sun, and toasted, is commonly 
 forced earth, and barren in its own nature. The ten- 
 der, chessome, and mellow earth, is the best, being 
 mere mould, between the two extremes of clay and sand, 
 especially if it be not loamy and binding. The earth, 
 that after rain will scarce be ploughed, is commonly 
 fruitful : for it is cleaving, and full of juice. 
 
 666. It is strange, which is observed by some of 
 the ancients, that dust helpeth the fruitfulness of trees, 
 and of vines by name ; insomuch as they cast dust 
 upon them of purpose. It should seem, that that 
 powdering, when a shower cometh, maketli a kind of 
 soiling to the tree, being earth and water finely laid 
 on. And they note, that countries wliere the fields 
 and ways are dusty bear the best vines. 
 
 667. It is commended by the ancients for an excel- 
 lent help to trees, to lay the stalks and leaves of 
 lupins about the roots, or to plough them into the 
 ground where you will sow corn. The burning also 
 of the cuttings of vines, and casting them upon land, 
 doth much good. And it was generally received of 
 old, that dunging of grounds when the west wind 
 bloweth, and in the decrease of the moon, doth greatly 
 lielp; the earth, as it seemetli, being then more thirsty 
 and open to receive the dung. 
 
 ()f)8. The grafting of vines upon vines, as I take it, 
 is not now in use : the ancients had it, and that three
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 459 
 
 ways : the first was incision, which is the ordinary 
 manner of grafting : the second was tcrehration tlirougli 
 the middle of the stock, and putting in the cions there : 
 and the third was paring of two vines that grow 
 together to the marrow, and biiuUng them close. 
 
 669. The diseases and ill accidents of corn are 
 worthy to be inquired ; and would be more worthy to 
 be inquired, if it were in mens power to help them ; 
 whereas many of them are not to be remedied. The 
 mildew is one of the greatest, which, out of question, 
 cometh by closeness of air ; and therefore in hills, or 
 large champain grounds, it seldom cometh ; such as is 
 with us York's woald. This cannot be remedied, 
 otherwise than that in countries of small inclosure the 
 grounds be turned into larger fields : which I have 
 known to do good in some farms. Another disease is 
 the putting forth of wild oats, whereinto corn often- 
 times, especially barley, doth degenerate. It happeneth 
 chiefly from the weakness of the grain that is sown ; 
 for if it be either too old or mouldy, it will bring forth 
 wild oats. Another disease is the satiety of the ground ; 
 for if you sow one ground still with the same corn, I 
 mean not the same corn that grew upon the same 
 ground, but the same kind of grain, as wheat, barley, 
 etc. it will prosper but poorly : therefore, besides the 
 resting of the ground, you must vary the seed. Another 
 ill accident is from the winds, which hurt at two times ; 
 at the flowering, by shaking off the flowers ; and at 
 the full ripening, by shaking out the corn. Another 
 ill accident is drought, at the spindling of the corn, 
 which with us is rare, but in hotter countries common : 
 insomuch as the word calamitas was first derived from 
 calamus, when the corn could not get out of the stalk. 
 Another ill accident is over-wet at sowing time, which 
 with us breedeth much dearth, insomuch as the corn 
 never cometh up ; and many times they are forced to 
 re-sow summer corn where they sowed winter corn. 
 Another ill accident is bitter frosts continued without 
 snow, especially in the beginning of the winter, after 
 the seed is new sown. Another disease is worms, 
 which sometimes breed in the root, and happen upon
 
 460 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 hot suns and showers immediately after the sowing ; 
 and another worm breedeth in the ear itself, especially 
 when hot suns break often out of clouds. Another 
 disease is weeds ; and they are such as either choke 
 and over-shadow the corn, and bear it down ; or starve 
 the corn, and deceive it of nourishment. Another 
 disease is over-rankness of the corn ; which they use 
 to remedy by mowing it after it is come up ; or putting 
 sheep into it. Another ill accident is laying of corn 
 with great rains, near or in harvest. Another ill acci- 
 dent is, if the seed happen to have touched oil, or any 
 thing that is fat ; for those substances have an anti- 
 pathy with nourishment of water. 
 
 670. The remedies of the diseases of corn have been 
 observed as folio weth. The steeping of the grain, 
 before sowing, a little time in wine, is thought a pre- 
 servative : the mingling of seed-corn with ashes is 
 thought to be good : the sowing at the wane of the 
 moon, is thought to make the corn sound : it hath not 
 been practised, but it is thought to be of use to make 
 some miscellano in corn ; as if you sow a few beans 
 with wheat, your wheat will be the better. It hath been 
 observed, that the sowing of corn with houseleek doth 
 good. Though grain that touchcth oil or fat, receiveth 
 hurt, yet the steeping of it in the dregs of oil, when 
 it beginneth to putrify, which they call amuixa, is 
 thought to assure it against worms. It is reported 
 also, that if corn be mowed, it will make the grain 
 longer, but emptier, and having more of the husk. 
 
 671. It hath been noted, that seed of a year old is 
 the best; and of two or three years is worse ; and that 
 which is more old is quite barren ; though, no doubt, 
 some seed and grains last better than others. The 
 corn which in the vanning lieth lowest is the best : 
 and the corn which broken or bitten retaineth a little 
 yellowness, is better tlian tliat v/hicli is very white. 
 
 672. It hath been observed, that of all roots of 
 herbs, the root of sorrel gocth the farthest into the 
 earth ; insomuch that it liath been known to go tln-ee 
 cubits deep : and that it is the root that continuetli fit 
 longest to be set again, of any root that groweth. It
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 461 
 
 is a coltl and acid herb, tliat, as it secmcth, loveth the 
 cartli, and is not much drawn by the sun. 
 
 673. It hath been observed, that some herbs like 
 best being watered with salt water ; as radish, beet, 
 rue, pennyroyal ; this trial would be extended to some 
 other herbs ; especially such as are strong, as tarragon, 
 mustard-seed, rocket, and the like. 
 
 67-i. It is strange that is generally received, how 
 some poisonous beasts affect odorate and wholesome 
 herbs ; as that the snake loveth fennel ; that the toad 
 will be much under sage ; that frogs will be in cinque- 
 foil. It may be it is rather the shade, or other cover- 
 ture, that they take liking in, than the virtue of the 
 herb. 
 
 675. It were a matter of great profit, save that I 
 doubt it is too conjectural to venture upon, if one could 
 discern what corn, herbs, or fruits, are like to be in 
 plenty or scarcity, by some signs and prognostics in 
 the beginning of the year : for as for those that are 
 like to be in plenty, they may be bargained for upon 
 the ground ; as the old relation was of Thales ; who, 
 to shew how easy it was for a philosopher to be rich, 
 when he foresaw a great plenty of olives, made a mo- 
 nopoly of them. And for scarcity, men may make 
 profit in keeping better the old store. Long continu- 
 ance of snow is believed to make a fruitftd year of 
 corn : an early winter, or a very late winter, a barren 
 year of corn ; an open and serene winter, an ill year 
 of fruit : these we have partly touched before : but 
 other prognostics of like nature are diligently to be 
 inquired. 
 
 676. There seem to be in some plants singularities, 
 wherein they differ from all otlicr ; the olive hath the 
 oily part only on the outside ; whereas all other fruits 
 have it in the nut or kernel. The fir hath, in effect, 
 no stone, nut, nor kernel ; except you will count the 
 little grains kernels. The pomegranate and pine- 
 apple have only amongst fruits grains distinct in 
 several cells. No herbs have curled leaves but cabbage 
 and cabbao;c -lettuce. None have doubled leaves, one 
 belonging to the stalk, another to the fruit or seed,
 
 462 MATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 but the artichoke. No flower hath that kind of spread 
 that the woodbine hath. This may be a large field 
 of contemplation ; for it sheweth that in the frame of 
 nature, there is, in the producing of some species, a 
 composition of matter, which happeneth oft, and may 
 be much diversified : in others, such as happeneth 
 rarely, and admitteth little variety : for so it is like- 
 wise in beasts ; dogs have a resemblance with wolves 
 and foxes ; horses with asses ; kine with buflles ; hares 
 with coneys, etc. And so in birds : kites and kestrels 
 have a resemblance with hawks ; common doves with 
 ring-doves and turtles ; blackbirds with thrushes and 
 mavises ; crows with ravens, daws, and choughs, etc. 
 But elephants and swine amongst beasts ; and the bird 
 of paradise and the peacock amongst birds ; and some 
 few others, have scarce any other species that have 
 affinity with them. 
 
 We leave the description of plants, and their virtues, 
 to herbals, and other like books of natural history ; 
 wherein mens diligence hath been great, even to cu- 
 riosity : for oiu" experiments are only such as do ever 
 ascend a degree to the deriving of causes, and ex- 
 tracting of axioms, which we are not ignorant but 
 that some botli of the ancient and modern writers 
 have also laboured ; but their causes and axioms are 
 so full of imagination, and so infected with the old 
 received theories, as they are mere inquinations of 
 experience, and concoct it not. 
 
 Experhnent solitary toncldng healing of wounds. 
 
 677- It liath been observed by some of the ancients, 
 that skins, especially of rams, newly pulled off, and 
 applied to the wounds of stripes, do keep them from 
 swelling and ex ulcerating ; and likewise heal them 
 and close them up ; and tliat the whites of eggs do 
 the same. The cause is a temperate conglutination ; 
 for both bodies are clammy and viscous, and do bridle 
 the deflux of humoms to the hurts, without penning 
 them in too mucli.
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 163 
 
 Experiment solitary touching fat diffused in Jlesh. 
 
 678. You may turn almost all flesh into a fatty 
 substance, if you take flesh and cut it into pieces, and 
 ])ut the pieces into a glass covered with parchment ; 
 and so let the glass stand six or seven hours in boiling 
 water. It may be an experiment of profit for making 
 of fat or grease for many uses ; but then it must be of 
 such flesh as is not edible; as horses, dogs, bears, 
 foxes, badgers, etc. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching ripening of drink before 
 the time. 
 
 679- It is reported by one of the ancients, that 
 new wine put into vessels well stopped, and the 
 vessels let down into the sea, will accelerate very 
 much the making of them ripe and potable. The 
 same would be tried in wort. 
 
 Experiment solitarrj touching pilosity and plumage, 
 
 680. Beasts are more hairy than men, and savage 
 men more tlian civil ; and the plumage of birds ex- 
 ceedeth the pilosity of beasts. The cause of the 
 smoothness in men is not any abundance of heat and 
 moisture, though that indeed causeth pilosity ; but 
 there is requisite to pilosity, not so much heat and 
 moisture, as excrcmentitious heat and moisture ; for 
 whatsoever assimilatcth, goetli not into the hair; and 
 excrementitious moisture aboundcth most in beasts, 
 and men that are more savage. JMuch the same 
 reason is there of the plumage of birds ; for birds 
 assimilate less, and excern more than beasts ; for 
 their excrements are ever liquid, and their flesh gene- 
 rally more dry : besides, they have not instruments 
 for urine ; and so all the excrementitious moisture 
 goeth into the feathers ; and therefore it is no marvel, 
 though birds be commonly better meat than beasts, 
 because their flesh doth assimilate more finely, and 
 secerneth more subtilly. Again, the head of man 
 liath hair upon the first birth, which no other part of 
 llic body hath. The cause may be want of perspi- 
 j ation : for much of the matter of hair, in the other
 
 464 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIT. 
 
 parts of tlie body, goeth forth by insensible perspira- 
 tion ; and besides, the skull being of a more solid 
 substance, nourisheth and assimilateth less, and ex- 
 cerneth more ; and so likewise doth the cliin. We 
 see also, that hair cometh not upon the palms of the 
 hands, nor soles of tlie feet ; which are parts more 
 perspirable. And children likewise are not hairy, for 
 that their skins are more perspirable. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the quickness of motion 
 in birds. 
 
 681. Birds are of swifter motion than beasts; for 
 the flight of many birds is swifter than the race of any 
 beasts. The cause is, for that the spirits in birds are 
 in greater proportion, in comparison of the bulk of 
 their body, than in beasts : for as for the reason that 
 some give, that they are partly carried, whereas boasts 
 go, that is nothing ; for by that reason swimming 
 should be swifter than running : and that kind of 
 carriage also is not without labour of the wing. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the different clearness of 
 the sea. 
 
 682. The sea is clearer when the north wind 
 bloweth, than when the south wind. The cause is, 
 for that salt water hath a little oiliness in the surface 
 thereof, as appeareth in very hot days : and again, for 
 that the southern wind relaxcth the water somewhat; 
 and no water boiling is so clear as cold water. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the different heats of fire 
 and boiling water. 
 
 683. Fire burneth wood, making it first luminous ; 
 then black and brittle ; and lastly, broken and incine- 
 rate ; scalding water doth none of these. Tlie cause 
 is, for that by fire the spirit of the body is first refined, 
 and then emitted; wlicreof tlie refining or attenua- 
 tion causeth the light ; and the emission, first the fra- 
 gility, and after, the dissolution into ashes ; neither 
 doth any other body enter : but in water the spirit of 
 the body is not refined so niuch ; and besides part of
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 465 
 
 the water entereth, which doth increase the spirit, and 
 in a degree extinguish it : therefore we see that 
 hot water will quench fire. And again we see, that 
 in bodies wherein the water doth not much enter, but 
 only the heat passeth, hot water workcth the effects of 
 fire ; as in eggs boiled and roasted, into which the 
 water entereth not at all, there is scarce difference to 
 be discerned : but in fruit, and flesh, whereinto the 
 water entereth in some part, there is much more 
 difference. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the qualification of heat 
 by moisture. 
 
 684. The bottom of a vessel of boiling water, as 
 hath been observed, is not very much heated, so as 
 men may put their hand under the vessel and remove 
 it. The cause is, for that the moisture of water as it 
 quencheth coals where it entereth, so it doth allay 
 heat where it toucheth : and therefore note well, that 
 moisture, although it doth not pass through bodies, 
 without communication of some substance, as heat 
 and cold do, yet it worketh manifest effects ; not by 
 entrance of the body, but by qualifying of the heat 
 and cold ; as we see in this instance : and we see, 
 likewise, that the water of things distilled in water, 
 which they call the bath, diffcreth not much from the 
 water of things distilled by fire. We see also, that 
 pewter dishes with water in them will not melt easily, 
 but without it they will ; nay we see more, that but- 
 ter, or oil, which in themselves are inflammable, yet 
 by virtue of their moisture will do the like. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching yawning. 
 
 685. It hath been noted by the ancients, that it is 
 dangerous to pick one's ear whilst he yawneth. The 
 
 ♦ cause is, for that in yawning the inner parchment of 
 the ear is extended, by the drawing in of the spirit and 
 breath ; for in yawning, and sighing both, the spirit 
 is first strongly drawn in, and then strongly expelled.
 
 4i66 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the hiccough. 
 
 686. It hath been observed by the ancients, that 
 sneezing doth cease the hiccough. The cause is, for 
 that the motion of the hiccough is a Ufting up of the 
 stomach, which sneezing doth somewhat depress, and 
 divert the motion another way. For first we see that 
 the hiccough cometh of fidncss of meat, especially in 
 children, which causeth an extension of the stomach : 
 we see also it is caused by acid meats, or drinks, 
 which is by the pricking of the stomach ; and this 
 motion is ceased either by diversion, or by detention 
 of the spirits ; diversion, as in sneezing ; detention, 
 as we see holding of the breath doth help somewhat 
 to cease the hiccough ; and putting a man into au 
 earnest study doth the like, as is commonly used : and 
 vinegar put to the nostrils, or gargarised, doth it also ; 
 for that it is astringent, and inhibiteth the motion 
 of the spirits. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching sneezing. 
 
 687- Looking against the sun doth induce sneez- 
 ing. The cause is not the heating of the nostrils, for 
 then the holding up of the nostrils against the sun, 
 though one wink, would do it ; but the drawing down 
 of the moisture of the brain : for it will make the 
 eyes run with water ; and the drawing of moisture 
 to the eyes, doth draw it to the nostrils by motion of 
 consent ; and so followeth sueezilng : as contrariwise, 
 the tickling of the nostrils within, doth draw the 
 moisture to the nostrils, and to the eyes by consent ; 
 for they also will water. But yet it hath been ob- 
 served, that if one be about to sneeze, the rubbing 
 of the eyes till they run with water will prevent it. 
 Whereof the cause is, for that the humour which 
 was descending to the nostrils, is diverted to the eyes. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching tJie tenderness of the teeth. 
 
 688. The teeth are more by cold drink, or the 
 like, affected than the other parts. The cause is 
 double ; the one, for that the resistance of bone to 
 cold is greater than of flesh, for that the flesh shrink-
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 467 
 
 etli, but the bone resisteth, whereby the cold becometh 
 more eager : the other is, for that the teeth are parts 
 witliout blood ; whereas blood helpeth to qualify the 
 cold ; and therefore we see that the sinews are much 
 affected with cold, for that they are parts without blood ; 
 so the bones in sharp colds wax brittle : and therefore 
 it hath been seen, that all contusions of bones in hard 
 weather are more difficult to cure. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the tongue. 
 
 689. It hath been noted, that the tongue receiveth 
 more easily tokens of diseases than the other parts ; as 
 of heats within, which appear most in the blackness 
 of the tongue. Again, pyed cattle are spotted in their 
 tongues, etc. The cause is, no doubt, the tenderness 
 of the part, which thereby receiveth more easily all 
 alterations, than any other parts of the flesh. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the taste. 
 
 690. When the mouth is out of taste, it maketh 
 things taste sometimes salt, chiefly bitter ; and some- 
 times lothsome, but never sweet. The cause is, the 
 corrupting of the moisture about the tongue, which 
 many times turneth bitter, and salt, and lothsome ; but 
 sweet never ; for the rest are degrees of corruption. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching some prognostics of pestilential 
 
 seasons. 
 
 691. It was observed in the great plague of the last 
 year, that there were seen, in divers ditches and low 
 grounds about London, many toads that had tails two 
 or three inches long at the least ; whereas toads usually 
 have no tails at all. Which argueth a great disposi- 
 tion to putrefaction in the soil and air. It is reported 
 likewise, that roots, such as carrots and parsnips, are 
 more sweet and luscious in infectious yeai'S than in 
 other years. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching special simples for medicines. 
 
 692. Wise physicians should with all diligence in- 
 quire, what simples nature yieldeth that have extreme
 
 468 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 subtile parts, without any mordication or acrimony : 
 for they undermine that which is hard ; they open that 
 which is stopped and shut ; and they expel that which 
 is offensive, gently, without too much perturbation. 
 Of this kind are elder-flowers ; which therefore are 
 proper for the stone : of this kind is the dwarf-pine ; 
 which is proper for the jaundice : of this kind is harts- 
 horn ; which is proper for agues and infections : of 
 this kind is piony ; which is proper for stoppings in 
 the head : of this kind is fumitory ; which is proper 
 for the spleen : and a number of others. Generally, 
 divers creatures bred of putrefaction, though they be 
 somewhat lothsome to take, are of this kind ; as earth- 
 worms, timber-sows, snails, etc. And I conceive that 
 the trochisks of vipers, which are so much magnified, 
 and the flesh of snakes some ways condited, and cor- 
 rected, which of late are grown into some credit, are 
 of the same nature. So the parts of beasts putrified, 
 as castoreum and musk, which have extreme subtile 
 parts, are to be placed amongst them. We see also, 
 that putrefactions of plants, as agaric and Jews-ear, 
 are of greatest virtue. The cause is, for that putre- 
 faction is the subtilest of all motions in the parts of 
 bodies : and since we cannot take down the lives of 
 living creatures, which, some of the Paracelsians say, 
 if they could be taken down, would make us immortal ; 
 the next is for subtilty of operation, to take bodies 
 putrified ; such as may be safely taken. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching Venus. 
 
 693. It hath been observed by the ancients, that 
 much use of Venus doth dim the sight ; and yet 
 eunuchs, which are unable to generate, are nevertheless 
 also dim-sighted. The cause of dimness of sight in the 
 former, is the expencc of spirits ; in the latter, the over- 
 moisture of the brain : for the over-moisture of the 
 brain doth thicken the spirits visual, and obstructeth 
 their passages ; as we see by the decay in the sight in 
 age ; where also the diminution of the spirits concur- 
 reth as another cause : we see also that blindness 
 Cometh by rheums and cataracts. Now in eunuchs.
 
 CENT. VIJ.] NATURAL HISTORY. 469 
 
 there are all the notes of moisture ; as the swelling of 
 their thighs, the looseness of their belly, the smooth- 
 ness of their skin, etc. 
 
 694. The pleasure in the act of Venus is the 
 greatest of the pleasures of the senses : the matching 
 of it with itch is improper, though that also be pleasing 
 to the touch. But the causes arc profound. First, all 
 the organs of the senses qualify the motions of the 
 spirits ; and make so many several species of motions, 
 and pleasures or displeasures thereupon, as there be 
 diversities or organs. The instruments of sight, hear- 
 ing, taste, and smell, are of several frame ; and so are 
 the parts for generation. Therefore Scaliger dotli well 
 to make the pleasm'c of generation a sixth sense ; and 
 if there were any other differing organs, and qualified 
 perforations for the spirits to pass, there would be 
 more than the five senses : ncitlier do we well know, 
 whctlier some beasts and birds have not senses that we 
 know not , and the very scent of dogs is almost a sense 
 by itself. Secondly, the pleasures of the touch arc 
 greater and deeper than those of the other senses ; as 
 we see in warming upon cold ; or refrigeration upon 
 heat : for as the pains of the touch are greater than 
 the offences of other senses ; so likewise are the plea- 
 sures. It is true, that the affecting of the spirits im- 
 mediately, and, as it were, without an organ, is of tlie 
 greatest j^lcasure ; which is but in two things : sweet 
 smells, and wine, and the like sweet vapours. For 
 smells, wc see tlieir great and sudden effect in fetching 
 men again wlicn they swoon : for drink it is certain 
 that tlie pleasure of drunkenness is next the pleasure 
 of \'^cnus ; and great joys, likewise, make the spirits 
 move and touch themselves : and the pleasure of 
 Venus is somewhat of the same kind. 
 
 69^5. It hath been always observed, tliat men are 
 more inclined to Venus in the winter, and women in 
 the summer. The cause is, for that the spirits, in a 
 body more hot and dry, as the spirits of men arc, by 
 the summer are more exhaled and dissipated ; and in 
 the winter more condensed and kept entire ; but in 
 bodies that are cold and moist, as womcns arc, tlie 
 
 VOL. 1. 2 II
 
 470 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 summer doth clierish the spirits, and calleth them 
 forth ; the winter doth dull them. Furthermore, the 
 abstinence, or intermission of the use of Venus in 
 moist and well habituate bodies, breedeth a number of 
 diseases : and especially dangerous impostumations. 
 The reason is evident ; for that it is a principal eva- 
 cuation, especially of the spirits : for of the spirits there 
 is scarce any evacuation, but in Venus and exercise. 
 And therefore the omission of either of them breedeth 
 all diseases of repletion. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the insecia. 
 
 The nature of vivification is very worthy the in- 
 quiry : and as the nature of things is commonly better 
 perceived in small than in great ; and in imperfect 
 than in perfect ; and in parts than in whole : so the 
 nature of vivification is best inquired in creatures bred 
 of putrefaction. The contemplation whereof hath 
 many excellent fruits. First, in disclosing the origi- 
 nal of vivification. Secondly, in disclosing the original 
 of figuration. Thirdly, in disclosing many things in 
 the nature of perfect creatures, which in them lie 
 more hidden. And fourthly, in traducing, by way 
 of operation, some observations in the insecta, to 
 work effects upon perfect creatures. Note, that the 
 word insecta agrceth not with the matter, but we 
 ever use it for brevity's sake, intending by it creatures 
 bred of putrefaction. 
 
 696. The insecta arc found to breed out of several 
 matters : some breed of mud or dung ; as the earth- 
 worms, eels, snakes, etc. For they are both putre- 
 factions : for water in mud doth putrify, as not able 
 to preserve itself: and for dung, all excrements are 
 the refuse and putrefactions of nourishment. Some 
 breed in wood, both growing and cut down. Query ^ 
 in what woods most, and at what seasons ? We see 
 that the worms with many feet, which round them- 
 selves into balls, arc bicd chiefly under logs of timber, 
 but not in the timber ; and they are said to be found 
 also many times in gardens, where no logs are. But 
 it seemeth their generation requireth a coverture, botli
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 471 
 
 from sun and rain or dew, as the timber is ; and 
 therefore they are not venomous, but contrariwise are 
 held by the physicians to clarify the blood. It is ob- 
 served also, that cimiccs are found in the holes of bed- 
 sides. Some breed in the hair of living creatures, as 
 lice and tikes ; which are bred by the sweat close 
 kept, and somewhat arefied by the hair. The excre- 
 ments of living creatures do not only breed insecta 
 when tlicy are excerned, but also while they are in 
 the body : as in worms, whereto children are most 
 subject, and are chiefly in the guts. And it hath 
 been lately observed by physicians, that in many pes- 
 tilent diseases, tliere are worms found in the upper 
 parts of the body, where excrements are not, but 
 only humours putrificd. Fleas breed principally of 
 straw or mats, where there hath been a little mois- 
 ture ; or the chamber and bed-straw kept close and 
 not aired. It is received, that they are killed by 
 strewing wormwood in the rooms. And it is truly 
 observed, that bitter things are apt rather to kill, than 
 engender putrefaction ; and they be things that are 
 fat or sweet tliat arc aptest to putrify. There is a 
 worm that breedeth in meal, of the shape of a large 
 white maggot, which is given as a great dainty to 
 nightingales. The moth breedeth upon cloth and 
 other lanifices ; especially if they be laid up dankish 
 and wet. It delighteth to be about the flame of a 
 candle. There is a worm called a wevil, bred under 
 ground, and that feedeth upon roots ; as parsnips, car- 
 rots, etc. Some breed in waters, especially shaded, 
 but they must be standing waters ; as the water-spi- 
 der that hath six legs. The fly called the gad-fly, 
 breedeth of somewhat that swimmeth upon tlic top 
 of the water, and is most about ponds. There is a 
 worm that breedeth of the dregs of wine decayed ; 
 which afterwards, as is observed by some of the an- 
 cients, turneth into a gnat. It hath been observed 
 by the ancients, that there is a worm that breedeth in 
 old snow, and is of colour reddish, and dull of mo- 
 tion, and dieth soon after it cometh out of snow. 
 Which should shew, that snow hath in it a secret 
 
 2 II 2
 
 472 NATURAL IIISTOllY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 warmth ; for else it could hardly vivify. And the 
 reason of the dying of the worm, may he the sudden 
 exhaling of that little spirit, as soon as it cometh out 
 of the cold, which had shut it in. For as butterflies 
 quicken with heat, which were benumbed with cold ; 
 so spirits may exhale with heat, which were preserved 
 in cold. It is affirmed both by the ancient and mo- 
 dern observation, that in furnaces of copper and brass, 
 where chalcites, which is vitriol, is often cast in to 
 mend the working, there riseth suddenly a fly, which 
 sometimes moveth as if it took hold of the walls of 
 the furnace ; sometimes is seen moving in the lire be- 
 low ; and dieth presently as soon as it is out of the 
 furnace : which is a noble instance, and worthy to be 
 weighed ; for it sheweth, that as well violent heat of 
 fire, as the gentle heat of living creatures, will vivify 
 if it have matter proportionable. Now the great 
 axiom of vivification is, that there must be heat to 
 dilate the spirit of the body ; an active spirit to be 
 dilated ; matter viscous or tenacious to hold in the 
 spirit ; and the matter to be put forth and figured. 
 Now a spirit dilated by so ardent a fire as that of the 
 furnace, as soon as ever it coolcth never so little, con- 
 gealeth presently. And, no doubt, this action is fur- 
 thered by the chalcites, which hath a spirit that will 
 put forth and germinate, as we see in chemical trials. 
 Briefly, most things putrified bring forth insecta of 
 several names ; but we will not take upon us now to 
 enumerate them all. 
 
 697. The insecta have been noted by the ancients 
 to feed little : but this hath not been diligently ob- 
 served ; for grasshoppers eat up the green of whole 
 countries ; and silk-worms devour leaves swiftly ; and 
 ants make great provision. It is true, that creatures 
 that sleep and rest much, eat little ; as dormice and 
 bats, etc. Tliey are all without blood : which may 
 be, for that tlie juice of their bodies is almost all one ; 
 not blood, and flesh, and skin, and bone, as in perfect 
 creatures ; tlie integral parts liave extreme variety, 
 hut tlie similar parts little. It is true, that they have, 
 some of tlicm, a diaphragm and an intestine ; and
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 47'i 
 
 they have all skins ; which in most of the i)isecta are 
 cast often. They arc not, generally, of long- life ; yet 
 bees have been known to live seven years : and snakes 
 are thought., the rather for the casting of their spoil, 
 to live till they be old : and eels, which many times 
 breed of putrefaction, will live and grow very long : 
 and those that interchange from worms to flies in the 
 summer, and from flies to worms in the winter, have 
 been kept in boxes four years at the least. Yet 
 there are certain flies that are called ephemera that 
 live but a day. The cause is the exility of the spirit, 
 or perhaps the absence of the sun ; for that if they were 
 brought in, or kept close, they might live longer. 
 Many of the insecta, as butterflies and other flies, 
 revive easily when they seem dead, being brought to 
 the sun or fire. The cause whereof is the diffusion of 
 the vital spirit, and the easy dilating of it by a little 
 heat. They stir a good while after their heads are off, 
 or that they be cut in pieces ; which is caused also, for 
 that their vital spirits are more diffused throughout 
 all their parts, and less confined to organs than in 
 perfect creatures. 
 
 698. The insecta liave voluntary motion, and there- 
 fore imagination ; and whereas some of the ancients 
 have said, that their motion is indeterminate, and 
 their imagination indefinite, it is negligently ob- 
 served ; for ants go right forwards to their hills ; and 
 bees do admirably know the way from a flowery 
 heath two or three miles off to their hives. It may be, 
 gnats and flies have their imagination more mutable 
 and giddy, as small birds likewise have. It is said by 
 some of the ancients, that tlicy have only the sense of 
 feeling, which is manifestly untrue; for if they go 
 forth-right to a place, they must needs have sight ; 
 besides, they delight more in one flower or herb than 
 in another, and therefore have taste : and bees are 
 called with sound upon brass, and therefore they have 
 hearing; which sheweth likewise, that though their 
 spirit be diffused, yet there is a seat of their senses in 
 their head. 
 
 Other observations concerning the i nscct a, togc-
 
 474 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VII. 
 
 tlier with the enumeration of them, we refer to that 
 place, where we mean to handle the title of animals 
 in general. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching leaping. 
 
 699. A man leapeth hotter with weights in his 
 hands than without. The cause is, for that the 
 weight, if it he proportion ahlc, strengtheneth the 
 sinews by contracting them. For otherwise, where 
 no contraction is needful, weight hindereth. As we 
 see in horse-races, men are curious to foresee, that 
 there be not the least weight upon the one horse more 
 than upon the other. In leaping with weights the 
 arms are first cast backwards, and then forwards, with 
 so much the greater force ; for the hands go backward 
 before they take their rise. Query, if the contrary 
 motion of the spirits, immediately before the motion 
 we intend, doth not cause the spirits as it were to 
 break forth with more force ? as breath also, drawn 
 and kept in, cometh forth more forcibly : and in cast- 
 ing of any thing, the arms, to make a greater swing, 
 are first cast backward. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the pleasures and displea- 
 sures of the senses, especially of' hearing. 
 
 700. Of musical tones and inicqual sounds we have 
 spoken before ; but touching the pleasure and dis- 
 pleasure of the senses, not so fully. Harsh sounds, 
 as of a saw when it is sharpened ; grinding of one stone 
 against another ; squeaking or shrieking noise ; make 
 a shivering or horror in the body, and set the teeth on 
 edge. The cause is, for that tlie objects of the ear 
 do affect the spirits, immediately, most with pleasure 
 and offence. We see there is no colour that affecteth 
 the eye much with displeasure : there be sights that 
 are horrible, because they excite the memory of things 
 that are odious or fearful ; but the same things painted 
 do little affect. As for smells, tastes, and touches, 
 they be things that do affect by a participation or im- 
 pulsion of the body of the object. 80 it is sound alone 
 that doth immediately and incorporeally affect most ;
 
 CENT. VII.] NATURAL IIISTOllV. 476 
 
 this is most manifest in music ; and concords and dis- 
 cords in music ; for all sounds, whether they be sharp 
 or flat, if they be sweet, have a roundness and equa- 
 lity ; and if they be harsh, are unequal ; for a discord 
 itself is but a harshness of divers sounds meeting. It 
 is true that inequality not stayed upon, but passing, is 
 rather an increase of sweetness ; as in the purling of a 
 wreathed string ; and in the raucity of a trumpet ; and 
 in the nightingale-pipe of a regal ; and in a discord 
 straight falling upon a concord ; but if you stay upon 
 it, it is offensive : and therefore there be these three 
 degrees of pleasing and displeasing in sounds, sweet 
 sounds, discords, and harsh sounds, which we call by 
 divers names, as shrieking or grating, such as we now 
 speak of. As for the setting of the teeth on edge, we 
 see plainly what au intercourse there is between the 
 teeth and the organ of the hearing, by the taking of 
 the end of a bow between the teeth, and striking upon 
 the string.
 
 NATURAL HISTORY. 
 
 CENTURY VIII. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching veins of medicinal earth. 
 
 701. There be minerals and fossils in great va- 
 riety ; but of veins of earth medicinal, but few ; the 
 chief are, terra lemnia, terra sigillata commuiiis, and 
 bolus ar7ne?ms ; whereof terra lenmia is the chief. 
 The virtues of them are, for curing of wounds, stanch- 
 ing of blood, stopping of fluxes, and rheums, and ar- 
 resting the spreading of poison, infection, and putre- 
 faction : and they have of all other simples the per- 
 fectest and purest quality of drying, with little or no 
 mixture of any other quality. Yet it is true, that the 
 bole-armoniac is the most cold of them, and that terra 
 lemnia is the most hot ; for which cause the island 
 Lemnos, where it is digged, was in the old fabulous 
 ages consecrated to Vulcan. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the groivth of sponges. 
 
 702. About the bottom of the Straits are gathered 
 great quantities of sponges, which are gathered from 
 the sides of rocks, being as it were a large but tough 
 moss. It is the more to be noted, because that there 
 be but few substances, plant-like, that grow deep 
 within the sea ; for they are gathered sometimes iif- 
 teen fathom deep : and when they are laid on shore, 
 they seem to be of great bulk ; but crushed -together, 
 will be transported in a very small room. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching seu-fsh put in fresh waters. 
 
 703. It secmeth, that fish that are used to the salt 
 water, do nevertheless delight more in iresh. We 
 h;cc, that salmons and smelts love to get into rivers.
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 477 
 
 though it he against the stream. At the haven ot 
 Constantinople you sliall liave great quantities of fish 
 that come from tlie JOuxine sea, that when they come 
 into the fresh water, do inebriate, and turn up their 
 beUies, so as you may take them with your hand. I 
 doubt there hath not been sufficient experiment made 
 of putting sea-fish into fresh water, ponds, and pools. 
 It is a thing of great use and pleasure ; for so you may 
 have them new at some good distance from the sea : 
 and besides, it may be, the fish will eat the pleasanter, 
 and may fall to breed. And it is said, that Colchester 
 oisters, which are put into pits, where the sea goeth 
 and Cometh, but yet so that there is fresh water 
 coming also to them when the sea voideth, become by 
 that means fatter, and more grown. 
 
 Experiment solitary tovchiiig attraction by similitude 
 oj substance. 
 
 704. The Turkish bow giveth a very forcible shoot; 
 insomuch as it hath been known, that the arrow hath 
 pierced a steel target, or a piece of brass of two 
 inches thick : but that which is more strange, the ar- 
 row, if it be headed with wood, hath been known to 
 pierce through a piece of wood of eight inches thick. 
 And it is certain, that we had in use at one time, for 
 sea fight, short arrows, which they called sprights, 
 without any other heads, save wood sharpened; which 
 were discharged out of muskets, and would pierce 
 through the sides of ships where a bullet would not 
 pierce. Rut this dependeth upon one of the greatest 
 secrets in all nature ; which is, that similitude of sub- 
 stance will cause attraction, where the body is wholly 
 freed from the motion of gravity : for if that were taken 
 away, lead would draw lead, and gold would draw 
 gold, and iron would draw iron, without the help of 
 the loadstone. But this same motion of weight or 
 gravity, which is a mere motion of the matter, and 
 hath no affinity with the form or kind, doth kill the 
 other motion, except itself be killed by a violent mo- 
 tion, as in these instances of arrows ; for then the 
 motion of attraction bv similitude of substance be-
 
 478 NATURAL HISTORY. [cENT. VIII. 
 
 ginneth to shew itself. But we shall handle this point 
 of nature fully in due place. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching certain drinks in Turkey. 
 
 705. They have in Turkey and the east certain con- 
 fections, which they call servets, which are like to can- 
 died conserves, and are made of sugar and lemons, or 
 sugar and citrons, or sugar and violets, and some other 
 flowers; and some mixture of amber for the more de- 
 licate persons : and those they dissolve in water, and 
 thereof make their drink, because they are forbidden 
 wine by their law. But I do much marvel, that no 
 Englishman, or Dutchman, or German, doth set up 
 brewing in Constantinople ; considering they have 
 such quantity of barley. For as for the general sort 
 of men, frugality may be the cause of drinking water; 
 for that it is no small saving to pay nothing for one's 
 drink ; but the better sort might well be at the cost. 
 And yet I wonder the less at it, because I see France, 
 Italy, or Spain, have not taken into use beer or ale ; 
 which, perhaps, if they did, would better both their 
 healths and their complexions. It is likely it would 
 be matter of great gain to any that should begin it in 
 Turkey. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching sweat. 
 
 706. In bathing in hot water, sweat, nevertheless, 
 cometh not in the parts under the water. The cause 
 is ; first, for that sweat is a kind of colliquation, and 
 that kind of colliquation is not made either by an 
 over-dry heat, or an over-moist heat : for over-moisture 
 doth somewhat extinguish the heat, as we see that 
 even hot water quencheth fire ; and over-dry heat 
 shutteth the pores : and therefore men will sooner 
 sweat covered before the sun or fire, than if they stood 
 naked : and earthen bottles, filled with hot water, do 
 provoke in bed a sweat more daintily than brick-bats 
 hot. Secondly, hot water doth cause evaporation 
 from the skin ; so as it spcndcth the matter in those 
 parts under the water, before it issueth in sweat. 
 Again, sweat cometh more plentifully, if the heat be
 
 CENT. Vlir,] NATURAL HISTORY. 479 
 
 increased by degrees, than if it be greatest at first, or 
 equal. The cause is, for that the pores are better 
 opened by a gentle heat, than by a more violent ; and 
 by their opening, tlie sweat issucth more abundantly. 
 And therefore jihysicians may do well when tliey pro- 
 voke sweat in bed by bottles, with a decoction of sudo- 
 rific herbs in hot water, to make two degrees of heat 
 in the bottles ; and to lay in the bed the less heated 
 fh'st, and after half an hour, the more heated. 
 
 707. Sweat is salt in taste ; the cause is, for that 
 that part of the nourishment which is frcsli and sweet, 
 turneth into blood and flesh ; and the sweat is only 
 that part wliich is separate and excerned. Blood also 
 raw hath some saltness more than flesh : because the 
 assimilation into flesh is not without a little and sub- 
 tile excretion from the blood. 
 
 708. Sweat cometh forth more out of the upper 
 parts of the body than the lower ; the reason is, be- 
 cause those parts are more replenished with spirits ; 
 and the spirits are they that put forth sweat : besides, 
 they are less fleshy, and sweat issueth, chiefly, out of 
 the parts that are less fleshy, and more dry ; as the 
 forehead and breast. 
 
 709. ^len sweat more in sleep than waking ; and 
 yet sleep doth rather stay other fluxions, than cause 
 them ; as rheums, looseness of the body, etc. The 
 cause is, for that in sleep the heat and spirits do natu- 
 rally move inwards, and there rest. But when they 
 are collected once within, the heat becometh more 
 violent and irritate ; and thereby expelleth sweat. 
 
 710. Cold sweats are, many times, mortal, and 
 near death ; and always ill, and suspected; as in great 
 fears, hypochondriacal passions, etc. The cause is, 
 for that cold sweats come by a relaxation or forsaking 
 of the spirits, whereby the moistiu*e of the body, which 
 heat did keep firm in the parts, severeth and issueth 
 out. 
 
 711. In those diseases which cannot be discharged 
 by sweat, sweat is ill, and rather to be stayed ; as in 
 diseases of the lungs, and fliLxes of the belly : but in 
 those diseases which are expelled by sweat, it easeth
 
 480 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIII. 
 
 and lighteiieth ; as in agues, pestilences, etc. The 
 cause is, for that sweat in the latter sort is partly cri- 
 tical, and sendeth forth the matter that ofFendeth ; but 
 in the former, it either proceedeth from the labour of 
 the spirits, which sheweth them oppressed ; or from 
 motion of consent, when nature, not able to expel the 
 disease where it is seated, moveth to an expulsion in- 
 different over all the body. 
 
 Eocperiment solitary touching the glow-iuorm. 
 
 712. The nature of the glow-worm is hitherto not 
 well observed. Thus much we see ; that they breed 
 chiefly in the hottest months of summer; and that they 
 breed not in champain, but in bushes and hedges. 
 Whereby it may be conceived, that the spirit of them 
 is very fine, and not to be refined but by summer 
 heats : and again, that by reason of the fineness, it 
 doth easily exhale. In Italy, and the hotter coun- 
 tries, there is a fly they call Lucciole^ that shineth as 
 the glow-worm doth ; and it may be is the flying glow- 
 worm. But that fly is chiefly upon fens and marshes. 
 But yet the two former observations hold; for they are 
 not seen but in the heat of summer ; and sedge, or 
 other green of the fens, give as good shade as buslies. 
 It may be the glow-worms of the cold countries ripen 
 not so far as to be winged. 
 
 Experiments in consort toi/ching the inipressiofis, which iht 
 passions of the mind make upon the body. 
 
 71 3. The passions of the mind work ui)on the body 
 the impressions following. Fear causetli paleness, 
 trembling, the standing of the hair uinight, starting, 
 and shrieking. The paleness is caused, for that the 
 blood runneth inward to succoiu* the heart. The trem- 
 bling is caused, for that through the flight of the spi- 
 rits inward, the outward ])arts are destituted, and not 
 sustained. Standing upright of the hair is caused, 
 for that by shutting of the pores of the skin, the 
 hair that lieth asloi)e must needs rise. Starting is both 
 an apprehension of tlie thing feared, and in that kind 
 it is a motion of slirinking, and likewise an incjuisition
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 481 
 
 ill the beginning, what the matter should be ; and in 
 that kind it is a motion of erection : and therefore 
 vvlien a man would listen suddenly to any thing, he 
 starteth ; for tlie starting is an erection of the spirits 
 to attend. Shrieking is an appetite of expelling that 
 which suddenly strikcth the spirits : for it must be 
 noted, that many motions, though they be unprofitable 
 to expel that which hurteth, yet they are offers of 
 nature, and cause motions by consent ; as in groaning, 
 or crying upon pain. 
 
 714-. Grief and pain cause sighing, sobbing, groan- 
 ing, screaming, and roaring ; tears, distorting of the 
 face, grinding of the teeth, sweating. Sighing is 
 caused by the drawing in of a greater quantity of 
 breath to refresh the heart that laboureth ; like a 
 great draught when one is thirsty. Sobbing is the 
 same thing stronger. Groaning, and screaming, and 
 roaring, are caused by an appetite of expulsion, as 
 hath been said : for when the spirits cannot expel the 
 thing that hurteth, in their strife to do it, by motion 
 of consent, they exjiel the voice. And this is when 
 the sj)irits yield, and give over to resist : for if one do 
 constantly resist pain, he will not groan. Tears are 
 caused by a contraction of the spirits of the brain ; 
 which contraction by consequence astringeth the 
 moisture of the brain, and thereby scndeth tears into 
 the eyes. And this contraction or compression causeth 
 also wringing of the hands ; for wringing is a gesture 
 of expression of moisture. The distorting of the face 
 is caused by a contention, first to bear and resist, and 
 then to expel ; which maketh the ])arts knit first, and 
 afterwards open. Grinding of the teeth is caused, 
 likewise, by a gathering and serring of the spirits 
 together to resist, which maketh the teeth also to set 
 hard one against another. Sweating is also a com- 
 pound motion, by tlie labour of the spirits, first to 
 resist, and then to expel. 
 
 715. Joy causeth a cheerfulness and vigour in the 
 eyes, singing, leaping, dancing, and sometimes tears. 
 AH these are the effects of the dilatation and coming 
 forth of the spirits into the outward parts ; which
 
 482 NATURAL HISTORY. [CKNT. VIII. 
 
 maketli them more lively and stirring. We know it 
 hath been seen, that excessive sudden joy hath caused 
 present death, while the spirits did spread so much as 
 they could not retire again. As for tears, they are the 
 effects of compression of the moisture of the brain, 
 upon dilatation of the spirits. For compression of 
 the spirits worketh an expression of the moisture of 
 the brain by consent, as hath been said in grief. But 
 then in joy, it worketh it diversely ; viz. by pro- 
 pulsion of the moisture, when the spirits dilate, and 
 occupy more room. 
 
 716. Anger causeth paleness in some, and the 
 going and coming of the colour in others : also trem- 
 bling in some : swelling, foaming at the mouth, 
 stamping, bending of the fist. Paleness, and going 
 and coming of the colour, are caused by the burning 
 of the spirits about the heart ; which to refresh them- 
 selves, call in more spirits from the outward parts. 
 And if the paleness be alone, without sending forth 
 the colour again, it is commonly joined with some 
 fear ; but in many there is no paleness at all, but 
 contrariwise redness about the cheeks and gills; 
 which is by the sending forth of the spirits in an ap- 
 petite to revenge. Trembling in anger is likewise by 
 a calling in of the spirits ; and is commonly when 
 anger is joined with fear. Swelling is caused, both 
 by a dilatation of the spirits by over-heating, and by 
 a liquefaction or boiling of the humours thereupon. 
 Foaming at the mouth is from the fame cause, being 
 an ebullition. Stamping, and bending of the fist, 
 are caused by an imagination of the act of revenge. 
 
 717. Light displeasure or dislike causeth shaking 
 of the head, frowning and knitting of the brows. 
 These effects arise from the same causes that trem- 
 bling and horror do ; namely, from the retiring of the 
 spirits, but in a less degree. For the shaking of the 
 head is but a slow and definite trembHng ; and is a 
 gesture of slight refusal ; and we see also, that a dis- 
 like causeth, often, that gesture of the hand, which 
 we use when we refuse a thing, or warn it away. The 
 frowning and knitting of the brows is a gathering, or
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 483 
 
 serring of tlic spirits, to resist in some measure. And 
 we sec also this knitting of the hrows will follow upon 
 earnest studying, or cogitation of any thing, though 
 it be without dislike. 
 
 718. Shame causeth blushing, and casting down 
 of the eyes. Blushing is the resort of blood to the 
 face ; which in the passion of shame is the part that 
 laboureth most. And although the blushing will be 
 seen in the whole breast if it be naked, yet that is 
 but in passage to the face. As for the casting down 
 of the eyes, it proceedeth of the reverence a man 
 beareth to other men ; whereby, when he is ashamed, 
 he cannot indure to look firmly upon others : and we 
 see, that blushing, and the casting down of the eyes 
 both, are more when we come before many ; " ore 
 Pompeii quid moUius ? nunquam non coram pluribus 
 erubuit : " and likewise when we come before great 
 or reverend persons. 
 
 719. Pity causeth sometimes tears; and a flexion 
 or cast of the eye aside. Tears come from the same 
 cause that they do in grief: for pity is but grief in 
 another's behalf. The cast of the eye is a gestm'e of 
 aversion, or lothness to behold the object of pity. 
 
 720. Wonder causeth astonishment, or an immove- 
 able posture of the body ; casting up of the eyes to 
 heaven, and lifting up of the hands. For astonish- 
 ment, it is caused by the fixing of the mind upon 
 one object of cogitation, whereby it doth not spatiate 
 and transcur, as it useth ; for in wonder the spirits 
 fly not, as in fear ; but only settle, and are made less 
 apt to move. As for the casting up of the eyes, and 
 lifting up of the hands, it is a kind of appeal to the 
 Deity, which is the author, by power and providence, 
 of strange wonders. 
 
 721. Laughing causeth a dilatation of the mouth 
 and lips ; a continued expulsion of the breath, with 
 the loud noise, which maketh the interjection of 
 laughing ; shaking of the breasts and sides ; running 
 of the eyes with water, if it be violent and continued. 
 Wherein first it is to be understood, that laughing is 
 scarce, properly, a passion, but hath its source from
 
 484 NATURAL HISTOKY. [CENT. Vril. 
 
 the intellect; for in laughing there ever precedeth 
 a conceit of somewhat ridiculous. And therefore it 
 is proper to man. Secondly, that the cause of laugh- 
 ing is but a light touch of the spirits, and not so 
 deep an impression as in other passions. And there- 
 fore, that which hath no affinity with the passions of 
 the mind, it is moved, and that in great vehemency, 
 only by tickling some parts of the body : and we see 
 that men even in a grieved state of mind, yet cannot 
 sometimes forbear laughing. Thirdly, it is ever 
 joined with some degree of delight : and therefore 
 exhilaration hath some affinity with joy, though it 
 be a much lighter motion : " res severa est verum 
 gaudium." Fourthly, that the object of it is deformity, 
 absurdity, shrewd turns, and the like. Now to speak 
 of the causes of the effects before mentioned, where- 
 unto these general notes give some light. For the 
 dilatation of the mouth and lips, continued expulsion 
 of the breath and voice, and shaking of the breast 
 and sides, they proceed, all, from the dilatation of the 
 spirits ; especially being sudden. So likewise, the 
 running of the eyes with water, as hath been formerly 
 touched, where we spake of the tears of joy and grief, 
 is an effect of dilatation of the spirits. And for sud- 
 denness, it is a great part of the matter : for we see, 
 that any shrewd turn that lighteth upon another; or 
 any deformity, etc. moveth laughter in the instant ; 
 which after a little time it doth not. So we cannot 
 laugli at any thing after it is stale, but whilst it is 
 new : and even in tickling, if you tickle the sides, 
 and give warning ; or give a hard or continued touch, 
 it doth not move laughter so much. 
 
 722. Lust causcth a flagrancy in the eyes, and 
 priapism. The cause of both these is, for that in lust, 
 the siglit and the touch are the things desired ; and 
 tlierefore the spirits resort to tliose parts which are 
 most affected. And note well in general, for that 
 great use may be made of the observation, that, ever- 
 more, the spirits, in all passions, resort much to tlie 
 parts that labour most, or are most affected. As in 
 tlie last whicli liath been mentioned, tliey resort to
 
 CENT. Vni,] NATURAL HISTORY. 485 
 
 the eyes and vcnereous parts : in fear and anger to the 
 heart : in shame to the face : and in Hglit dislikes to 
 the head. 
 
 Experiments in cor/sort tonching drunkenness. 
 
 723. It hath heen observed by the ancients, and is 
 yet beheved, that the s])erni of drunken men is un- 
 fruitful. The cause is, for that it is over-moistened, 
 and wanteth spissitude : and we have a merry saying, 
 that they that go drunk to bed get daughters. 
 
 724. Drunken men are taken with a plain defect, 
 or destitution in voluntary motion. They reel ; they 
 tremble ; they cannot stand, nor speak strongly. The 
 cause is, for that the spirits of the wine oppress the 
 spirits animal, and occupy ])art of the place where they 
 are ; and so make them weak to move. And therefore 
 drunken men are apt to fall asleep : and opiates, and 
 stupefactives, as poppy, hen-bane, hemlock, etc. induce 
 a kind of drunkenness, by tlie grossness of their vajiour ; 
 as wine doth by the quantity of the vapour. Besides, 
 they rob the spirits animal of their matter, whereby 
 they are nourished : for the spirits of the wine prey 
 upon it as well as they : and so they make the spirits 
 less supple and apt to move. 
 
 725. Drunken men imagine every thing turneth 
 round ; they imagine also tliat things come upon them ; 
 they see not well things afar off ; those things that they 
 see near hand, they see out of their place ; and some- 
 times they see things double. The cause of the 
 imagination that things turn round is, for that the 
 sj)irits themselves turn, being compressed by the vapour 
 of the wine ; for any liquid body upon compression 
 turneth, as we see in water : and it is all one to the 
 sight, whether the visual spirits move, or the object 
 moveth, or the medium moveth. And we see that long 
 turning round breedeth the same imagination. The 
 cause of the imagination that things come upon them 
 is, for that the spirits visual themselves draw back ; 
 which maketh the object seem to come on ; and besides, 
 when they see things turn round and move, fear 
 maketh them think they come upon them. The 
 
 VOL. I. 2 I
 
 486 NATURAI> HISTORY. [CENT. VIII. 
 
 cause that they cannot see things afar off, is the weak- 
 ness of the spirits ; for in every megrim or vertigo 
 there is an obtenebration joined with a semblance of 
 turning round ; which we see also in the lighter sort 
 of swoonings. The cause of seeing things out of their 
 place, is the refraction of the spirits visual ; for the 
 vapour is as an unequal medium ; and it is as the sight 
 of things out of place in water. The cause of seeing 
 things double, is the swift and unquiet motion of the 
 spirits, being oppressed, to and fro ; for, as was said 
 before, the motion of the spirits visual, and the motion 
 of the object, make the same appearances ; and for 
 the swift motion of the object, we see, that if you fillip 
 a lute-string, it sheweth double or treble. 
 
 726. Men are sooner drunk with small draughts 
 than with great. And again, wine sugared inebriateth 
 less than wine pure. The cause of the former is, for 
 that the wine descendeth not so fast to the bottom of 
 the stomach, but maketh longer stay in the upper part 
 of the stomach, and sendeth vapours faster to the head ; 
 and therefore inebriateth sooner. And for the same 
 reason, sops in wine, quantity for quantity, inebriate 
 more than wine of itself. The cause of the latter is, 
 for that the sugar doth inspissate the spirits of the 
 wine, and maketh them not so easy to resolve into 
 vapour. Nay farther, it is thought to be some remedy 
 against inebriating, if wine sugared be taken after 
 wine pure. And the same effect is wrought either by 
 oil or milk, taken upon much drinking. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the help or hurt of ivine, 
 though moderately used. 
 
 727- The use of wine in dry and consumed bodies 
 is hurtful ; in moist and full bodies it is good. The 
 cause is, for that the spirits of the wine do prey upon 
 the dew or radical moisture, as they term it, of the 
 body, and so deceive the animal spirits. But where 
 there is moisture enough, or superfluous, there wine 
 helpeth to digest, and desiccate the moisture. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching caterpillars. 
 728. The caterpillar is one of the most general of
 
 I 
 
 CENT. VIII.] NAT(TKAL HISTORY. 48? 
 
 woniris, and breedeth of dew and leaves ; for we see 
 infinite number of caterpillars which breed upon trees 
 and hedges, by which the leaves of the trees or hedges 
 are in great part consumed ; as well by their breeding 
 out of the leaf, as by their feeding upon the leaf. 
 They breed in the spring chiefly, because then there 
 is both dew and leaf. And they breed commonly when 
 the east winds have much blown ; the cause whereof 
 is, the dryness of that wind ; for to all vivification upon 
 putrefaction, it is requisite the matter be not too moist : 
 and therefore we see they have cobwebs about them, 
 which is a sign of a slimy dryness ; as we see upon 
 the ground, whereupon, by dew and sun, cobwebs breed 
 all over. We see also the green caterpillar breedeth 
 in the inward parts of roses, especially not blown, where 
 the dew sticketh ; but especially caterpillars, both the 
 greatest, and the most, breed upon cabbages, which 
 have a fat leaf, and apt to putrify. The caterpillar, 
 towards the end of summer, waxeth volatile, and 
 turneth to a butterfly, or perhaps some other fly. 
 There is a caterpillar that hath a fur or down upon it, 
 and seemeth to have afiinity with the silk- worm. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the Jlies cantharides. 
 
 729. The flies cantharides are bred of a worm or 
 caterpillar, but peculiar to certain fruit-trees ; as are 
 the fig-tree, the pine-tree, and the wild brier ; all which 
 bear sweet fruit, and fruit that hath a kind of secret 
 biting or sharpness : for the fig hath a milk in it that 
 is sweet and corrosive ; the pine-apple hath a kernel 
 that is strong and abstersive : the fruit of the brier is 
 said to make children, or those that eat them, scabbed. 
 And therefore no marvel, though cantharides have 
 such a corrosive and cauterising quality ; for there is 
 not any other of the insecta, but is bred of a duller 
 matter. The body of the cantharides is bright 
 coloured ; and it may be, that the delicate coloured 
 dragon-flies may have likewise some corrosive quality. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching lassitude. 
 
 730. Lassitude is remedied by bathing, or anointing 
 
 2 I 2
 
 488 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIII- 
 
 with oil and warm water. The cause is, for that all 
 lassitude is a kind of contusion, and compression of the 
 parts ; and bathing and anointing give a relaxation or 
 emollition ; and the mixture of oil and water is better 
 than either of them alone ; because water entereth 
 better into the pores, and oil after entry softeneth 
 better. It is found also, that the taking of tobacco 
 doth help and discharge lassitude. The reason whereof 
 is, partly, because by cheering or comforting of the 
 spirits, it openeth the parts compressed or contused ; 
 and chiefly because it refresheth the spirits by the 
 opiate virtue thereof, and so dischargcth weariness, as 
 sleep likewise doth. 
 
 731. In going up a hill, the knees will be most 
 weary ; in going down a hill, the thighs. The cause 
 is, for that in the lift of the feet, when a man goeth 
 up the hill, the weight of the body beareth most upon 
 the knees ; and in going down the hill, upon the thighs. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the casting of the skin and 
 shell in some creatures. 
 
 732. The casting of the skin is by the ancients 
 compared to the breaking of the secundine, or caul, 
 but not rightly : for that were to make every casting 
 of the skin a new birth : and besides, the secundine 
 is but a general cover, not shaped according to the 
 parts, but the skin is shaped according to the parts. 
 The creatures that cast their skin arc, the snake, the 
 viper, the grasshopper, the lizard, tlie silk-worm, etc. 
 Those that cast their shell are, the lobster, the crab, 
 the crawfish, the hodmandod or dodman, the tortoise, 
 etc. The old skins arc found, but the old shells never : 
 so as it is like, they scale off, and crumble away by 
 degrees. And they are known by the extreme tender- 
 ness and softness of the new shell, and sometimes by 
 the freshness of the colour of it. The cause of the 
 casting of skin and shell should seem to be the great 
 quantity of matter in those creatures that is fit to 
 make skin or shell : and again, the looseness of the 
 skin or shell, that stickcth not close to the flesh. For 
 it is certain, that it is the new skin or shell that put-
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 'iSD 
 
 tcth oif the old : so vvc sec, that in tleer it is the young 
 horn tliat putteth off the old ; and in birds, the young 
 feathers put off the old : and so birds that have much 
 matter for their beak, cast their beaks, the new beak 
 putting off the old. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the postures of the body. 
 
 733. Lying not erect, but hollow, which is in the 
 making of the bed : or with the legs gathered up, 
 whicli is in the posture of the body, is the more whole- 
 some. The reason is, tlie better comforting of the 
 stomach, which is by that less pensile : and we see that 
 in weak stomachs, the laying up of tlie legs high, and 
 the knees almost to the mouth, helpeth and comforteth. 
 We see also, that galley-slaves, notwithstanding their 
 misery otherwise, are commonly fat and fleshy ; and 
 the reason is, because the stomach is supported some- 
 what in sitting, and is pensile in standing or going. 
 And therefore, for prolongation of life, it is good to 
 choose those exercises where the limbs move more than 
 the stomach and belly ; as in rowing, and in sawing, 
 being set. 
 
 734. IMcgrims and giddiness are rather when we 
 rise after long sitting, than while we sit. The cause 
 is, for that tlie vapours, which were gathered by sitting, 
 by the sudden motion fly more up into the head. 
 
 735. Leaning long upon any part maketh it numb, 
 and, as we call it, asleep. The cause is, for that the 
 compression of the part suffereth not the spirits to 
 liave free access ; and therefore when we come out of 
 it, we feel a stinging or pricking, which is the re- 
 entrance of the spirits. 
 
 Experiment solilary touching pestilential years'. 
 
 736. It hath been noted, that those years are pesti- 
 lential and unwholesome, when there are great num- 
 bers of frogs, flies, locusts, etc. The cause is plain ; 
 for that those creatures being engendered of putre- 
 faction, when they abound, shew a general disposition 
 of the year, and constitution of tlie air, to diseases of 
 putrefaction. And the same prognostic, as hath been
 
 490 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIII. 
 
 said before, holdeth, if you find worms in oak-apples : 
 for the constitution of the air appeareth more subtilly 
 in any of these things, than to the sense of man. 
 
 Eocpenment solitary touching the prognostics of Jiard winters. 
 
 737- It is an observation amongst country people, 
 that years of store of haws and hips do commonly 
 portend cold winters ; and they ascribe it to God's 
 providence, that, as the Scripture saith, reacheth even 
 to the falling of a sparrow ; and much more is like to 
 reach to the preservation of birds in such seasons. The 
 natural cause also may be the want of heat, and abun- 
 dance of moisture, in the summer precedent ; which 
 putteth forth those fruits, and must needs leave great 
 quantity of cold vapours not dissipated ; which causeth 
 the cold of the winter following. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching medicines that condense 
 ana relieve the spirits. 
 
 738. They have in Turkey a drink called coffee, 
 made of a berry of the same name, as black as soot, 
 and of a strong scent, but not aromatical ; which they 
 take, beaten into powder, in water, as hot as they can 
 drink it : and they take it, and sit at it in their coffee- 
 houses, which are like our taverns. This drink com- 
 forteth the brain and heart, and helpeth digestion. 
 Certainly this berry coffee, tlie root and leaf beetle, the 
 leaf tobacco, and the tear of poppy, opium, of which 
 the Turks are great takers, supposing it expelleth all 
 fear, do all condense the spirits, and make them strong 
 and aleger. But it seemeth they are taken after several 
 manners ; for coffee and opium are taken down, tobacco 
 but in smoke, and beetle is but cliamped in the mouth 
 with a little lime. It is like there are more of them, 
 if they were well found out, and well corrected. Query, 
 of henbane-seed ; of mandrake ; of saffron, root and 
 flower; oi folium indicum ; of ambergrease ; of the 
 Assyrian amomum, if it may be had ; and of the 
 scarlet powder which they call kermes ; and, generally, 
 of all such things as do inebriate and provoke sleep. 
 Note that tobacco is not taken in root or seed, which 
 arc more forcible ever than leaves.
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATIJIIAL HISTORY. 491 
 
 Experimeni solitary louching paintings oj the body. 
 
 739. The Turks have a l)Lick powder, made of a 
 mineral called alcohol, whicli with a fine long pencil 
 they lay under tlieir eye lids, which doth colour tlieni 
 black ; whereby tlie white of the eye is set off more 
 white. With the same powder they colour also the 
 hairs of their eye-lids, and of tlieir eye-brows, which 
 they draw into embowcd arches. You shall find that 
 Xenophon maketh mention, that the jNIedes used to 
 paint tlieir eyes. The Turks use with the same tinc- 
 ture to colour the hair of their heads and beards black. 
 And divers with us that are grown grey, and yet 
 would apjiear young, find means to make their hair 
 black, by combing it, as they say, with a leaden comb, 
 or the like. As for the Chineses, who are of an ill 
 complexion, being olivaster, they paint their cheeks 
 scarlet, especially their king and grandees. Generally, 
 barbarous people, that go naked, do not only paint 
 themselves, but they pounce and raise their skin, 
 that tlie painting may not be taken forth ; and make 
 it into works. So do the West Indians ; and so did 
 the ancient Picts and Britons ; so that it seemeth men 
 would liave the colours of birds feathers, if they could 
 tell how ; or at least they will have gay skins instead 
 of gay clothes. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the use of bathing and 
 anoniting. 
 
 740. It is strange that the use of bathing, as a 
 part of diet, is left. With the Romans and Grecians 
 it was as usual as eating or sleeping ; and so is it 
 amongst the Turks at this day ; whereas with us it 
 remaineth but as a part of physic. I am of opinion, 
 that the use of it, as it was with the Romans, w^as - 
 hurtful to health ; for that it made the body soft, and 
 easy to waste. For the Turks it is more proper, be- 
 cause that their drinking w^ater and feeding upon rice, 
 and other food of small nourishment, maketh their 
 bodies so solid and hard, as you need not fear that 
 bathing should make them frothy. Besides, the Turks 
 are great sitters, and seldom walk ; whereby they sweat
 
 492 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIII. 
 
 less, and need bathing more. But yet certain it is that 
 bathing, and especially anointing, may be so used as 
 it may be a great help to health, and prolongation of 
 life. But hereof we shall speak in due place, when 
 we come to handle experiments medicinal. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching chambletting of paper. 
 
 74 1 . The Turks have a pretty art of chambletting 
 of paper, which is not with us in use. They take 
 divers oiled colours, and put them severally, in drops, 
 upon water, and stir the water lightly, and then wet 
 their paper, being of some thickness, with it, and the 
 paper will be waved and veined, like chamblet or 
 marble. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching cuttle-ink. 
 
 742. It is somewhat strange, that the blood of all 
 birds and beasts and fishes should be of a red colour, 
 and only the blood of the cuttle should be as black as 
 ink. A man would thiuk, that the cause should be 
 the high concoction of that blood ; for we see in ordi- 
 nary puddings, that the boiling turneth the blood to 
 be black ; and the cuttle is accounted a delicate meat, 
 and is much in request. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching increase of iveight in earth. 
 
 743. It is reported of credit, that if you take earth 
 from land adjoining to the river of Nile, and preserve 
 it in that manner tliat it neither come to be wet nor 
 wasted ; and weigh it daily, it will not alter weight 
 until the seventeenth of June, which is the day when 
 the river beginneth to rise ; and then it will grow more 
 and more ponderous, till the river cometh to its heiglit. 
 Which if it be true, it cannot be caused but by the 
 air, which then beginneth to condense ; and so turneth 
 within that small mold into a degree of moisture, which 
 j)roduceth weight. So it hath been observed, that 
 tobacco cut, and weighed, and then dried by the fire, 
 loseth weight ; and after being laid in the open air, 
 recovereth weight again. And it should seem, that 
 as soon as ever the river beginnetli to increase, the
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 493 
 
 whole body of the air thereabouts suffereth a change : 
 for, that which is more strange, it is credibly affirmed, 
 that upon that very day when the river first riseth, 
 great plagues in Cairo use suddenly to break up. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching sleep. 
 
 744. Those that are very cold, and especially in 
 their feet, cannot get to sleep : the cause may be, for 
 that in sleep is required a free respiration, which cold 
 doth shut in and hinder ; for we see that in great colds 
 one can scarce draw his breath. Another cause may 
 be, for that cold calleth the spirits to succour ; and 
 therefore they cannot so well close, and go together in 
 the head : which is ever requisite to sleep. And for 
 the same cause, pain and noise hinder sleep ; and dark- 
 ness, contrariwise, furthereth sleep. 
 
 745. Some noises, whereof we spake in the hundred 
 and twelfth experiment, help sleep : as the blowing of 
 the wind, the trickling of water, humming of bees, 
 soft singing, reading, etc. The cause is, for that they 
 move in the spirits a gentle attention ; and whatsoever 
 moveth attention witliout too much labour stilleth the. 
 natural and discursive motion of the spirits. 
 
 746. Sleep nourisheth, or at least preserveth bodies, 
 a long time, without other nourishment. Beasts that 
 sleep in winter, as it is noted of wild bears, during 
 their sleep wax very fat, though they eat nothing. 
 Bats have been found in ovens, and other hollow close 
 places, matted one upon another : and therefore it is 
 likely that they sleep in the winter time, and eat no- 
 thing. Queri/, whether bees do not sleep all winter, 
 and spare their honey ? Butterflies, and other flies, 
 do not only sleep, but lie as dead all winter ; and yet 
 with a little heat of sun or fire, revive again. A dor- 
 mouse, both winter and summer, will sleep some days 
 together, and eat nothing. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching teeth and hard substances 
 in the bodies of living creatures. 
 
 To restore teeth in age, were magnale natura. It 
 may be thought of. But howsoever, the nature of the
 
 494 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIII. 
 
 teeth deserveth to be inquired of, as well as the other 
 parts of living creatures bodies. 
 
 747. There be five parts in the bodies of living- 
 creatures, that are of hard substance ; the skull, the 
 teeth, the bones, the horns, and the nails. The 
 greatest quantity of hard substance continued is to- 
 wards the head. For there is the skull of an entire 
 bone ; there are the teeth ; there are the maxillary 
 bones ; there is the hard bone that is the instrument 
 of hearing ; and thence issue the horns ; so that the 
 building of living creatures bodies is like the building 
 of a timber house, where the walls and other parts 
 have columns and beams ; but the roof is, in the bet- 
 ter sort of houses, all tile, or lead, or stone. As for 
 birds, they have three other hard substances proper to 
 them ; the bill, which is of like matter with the teeth: 
 for no birds have teeth : the shell of the egg : and 
 their quills : for as for their spur, it is but a nail. 
 But no living creatures that have shells very hard, as 
 oisters, cockles, muscles, scallops, crabs, lobsters, craw- 
 fish, shrimps, and especially the tortoise, have bones 
 within them, but only little gristles. 
 
 748. Bones, after full growth, continue at a stay ; 
 and so doth the skull : horns, in some creatures, are 
 cast and renewed : teeth stand at a stay, except their 
 wearing : as for nails, they grow continually : and 
 bills and beaks will overgrow, and sometimes be cast ; 
 as in eagles and parrots. 
 
 749. JMost of the hard substances fly to the ex- 
 tremes of the body : as skull, horns, teeth, nails, and 
 beaks : only the bones are more inward, and clad with 
 flesh. As for the entrails, they are all without bones; 
 save that a bone is, sometimes, found in the heart of a 
 stag ; and it may be in some other creature. 
 
 750. The skull hath brains, as a kind of marrow, 
 within it. The back-bone hath one kind of marrow, 
 which liath an affinity with the brain ; and otlier 
 bones of the body have another. The jaw-bones have 
 no marrow severed, but a little pulp of marrow dif- 
 fused. Teeth likewise arc thouglit to have a kind of 
 marrow diffused, which causcth the sense and pain ;
 
 CENT. VIII. J NATUllAL HISTORY. 495 
 
 but it is rather sinew ; for marrow hath no sense ; no 
 more than blootl. Horn is ahke throughout ; and so 
 is the nail. 
 
 751. None other of the hard substances have sense, 
 but the teeth ; and the teeth have sense, not only of 
 pain but of cold. 
 
 But we will leave the inquiries of other hard sub- 
 stances unto their several places; and now inquire 
 only of the teeth. 
 
 752. The teeth arc, in men, of three kinds ; sharp, 
 as the fore-teeth ; broad, as the back-teeth, which we 
 call the molar- teeth, or grinders ; and pointed teeth, 
 or canine, which are between both. But there have 
 been some men that have had their teeth undivided, 
 as of one whole bone, with some little mark in the 
 place of the division ; as Pyrrhus had. Some crea- 
 tures have over-long or out-growing teeth, which we 
 call fangs, or tusks : as boars, pikes, salmons, and 
 dogs, though less. Some living creatures have teeth 
 against teeth ; as men and horses ; and some have 
 teeth, especially their master-teeth, indented one 
 within another like saws, as lions ; and so again have 
 dogs. Some fishes have divers rows of teeth in the 
 roofs of their moutlis ; as pikes, salmons, trouts, etc. 
 And many more in salt waters. Snakes and other 
 serpents have venomous teeth ; which are sometimes 
 mistaken for their sting. 
 
 753. No beast that hath horns hath upper teeth ; 
 and no beast that hath teeth above wanteth them be- 
 low : but yet if they be of the same kind, it followeth 
 not, that if the hard matter goeth not into upper 
 teeth, it will go into horns ; nor yet e convei^so ; for 
 does, that have no horns, have no upper teeth. 
 
 754. Horses have, at three years old, a tooth put 
 forth, which they call the colt's tooth ; and at four 
 years old there cometh the mark tooth, which hath a 
 hole as big as you may lay a pea within it ; and that 
 weareth shorter and shorter every year ; till that at 
 eight years old the tooth is smooth, and the hole gone ; 
 and then they say, that the mark is out of the horse's 
 mouth.
 
 496 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIII. 
 
 755. The teeth of men breed first, when the child 
 is about a year and half old : and then they cast them, 
 
 J and new come about seven years old. But divers 
 have backward teeth come forth at twenty, yea some 
 at thirty and forty. Query ^ of the manner of the 
 coming of them forth. They tell a tale of the old 
 Countess of Desmond, who lived till she was seven- 
 score years old, that she did dentire twice or thrice ; 
 casting her old teeth, and others coming in their 
 place. 
 
 756. Teeth are much hurt by sweetmeats ; and 
 by painting with mercury ; and by things over-hot ; 
 and things over-cold ; and by rheums. And the pain 
 of the teeth is one of the sharpest of pains. 
 
 757. Concerning teeth, these things are to be con- 
 sidered. 1. The preserving of them. 2. The keep- 
 ing of them white. 3. The drawing of them with 
 least pain. 4. The staying and easing of the tootli- 
 ach. 5. The binding in of artificial teeth, wlicrc 
 teeth have been strucken out. 6. And last of all, that 
 great one of restoring teeth in age. The instances 
 that give any likelihood of restoring teeth in age, 
 are the late coming of teeth in some ; and the renew- 
 ing of the beaks in birds, which are commaterial witli 
 teeth. Query, therefore, more particularly how that 
 Cometh. And again, the renewing of horns. But 
 yet that hath not been known to have been provoked 
 by art ; therefore let trial be made, whether horns 
 may be procured to grow in beasts that are not horn- 
 ed, and how ? And whether they may be procured 
 to come larger than usual ; as to make an ox or a 
 deer have a greater head of horns? And whether 
 the head of a deer, that by age is more spitted, may 
 be brought again to be more branched? for these 
 trials, and the like, will shew, whether by art such 
 liard matter can be called and provoked. It may be 
 tried also, whether birds may not liave sometliing 
 done to them when they are young, whereby they 
 may be made to have greater or longer bills ; or 
 greater and longer talons ? And whether children 
 may not have some wash, or something to make their
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 497 
 
 teeth better and stronger ? Coral is in use as an help 
 to the teeth of children. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching the generation and bear- 
 ing of living creatures in tlie womb. 
 
 758. Some living creatures generate but at certain 
 seasons of tlie year ; as deer, sheep, wild conies, etc. 
 and most sorts of birds and fishes : others at any time 
 of the year, as men ; and all domestic creatures, as 
 horses, hogs, dogs, cats. etc. The cause of generation 
 at all seasons scemeth to be fulness : for generation is 
 from redundance. This fulness ariseth from two 
 causes ; either from the nature of the creature, if it 
 be hot, and moist, and sanguine ; or from plenty of 
 food. For the first, men, horses, dogs, etc. which 
 breed at all seasons, are full of heat and moisture ; 
 doves are the fullest of heat and moisture amongst 
 birds, and therefore breed often ; the tame dove al- 
 most continually. But deer are a melancholy dry 
 creature, as appeareth by their fearfulness, and the 
 hardness of their flesh. Sheep are a cold creature, as 
 appeareth by their mildness, and for that they seldom 
 drink. JMost sort of birds are of a dry substance in 
 comparison of beasts. Fishes are cold. For the se- 
 cond cause, fulness of food ; men, kine, swine, dogs, 
 etc. feed full ; and we see that those creatures, which 
 being wild, generate seldom, being tame, generate 
 often ; which is from warmth, and fulness of food. 
 We find, that the time of going to rut of deer is in 
 September ; for that they need the whole summer's 
 feed and grass to make them lit for generation. And 
 if rain come early about the middle of September, 
 they go to rut somewhat the sooner; if drought, 
 somewhat the later. So sheep, in respect of their 
 small heat, generate about the same time, or some- 
 what before. But for the most part, creatures that 
 generate at certain seasons, generate in the spring ; as 
 birds and fishes ; for that the end of the winter, and 
 the heat and comfort of the spring preparetli them. 
 There is also another reason why some creatures ge- 
 nerate at certain seasons ; and that is the relation of
 
 498 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIII. 
 
 their time of bearing to the time of generation ; for 
 no creature goeth to generate whilst the female is full ; 
 nor whilst she is busy in sitting, or rearing her yoimg. 
 And therefore it is found by experience, that if you 
 take the eggs or young ones out of the nests of birds, 
 they will fall to generate again three or four times 
 one after another. 
 
 759. Of living creatures, some are longer time in 
 the womb, and some shorter. Women go commonly 
 nine months ; the cow and the ewe about six months; 
 does go about nine months ; mares eleven months ; 
 bitches nine weeks ; elephants are said to go two 
 years ; for the received tradition of ten years is fabu- 
 lous. For birds there is double inquiry ; the dis- 
 tance between the treading or coupling, and tlie lay- 
 ing of the egg ; and again, betw^een the egg laid, and 
 the disclosing or hatching. And amongst birds, tliere 
 is less diversity of time than amongst other creatures ; 
 yet some there is ; for the hen sitteth but three weeks, 
 the turkey-hen, goose, and duck, a month : Query, of 
 others. The cause of the great difference of times 
 amongst living creatures is, either from the nature 
 of the kind, or from the constitution of the womb. 
 For the former, those that are longer in coming to 
 their maturity or growth are longer in the womb ; as 
 is chiefly seen in men : and so elephants, which are 
 long in the womb, are long time in coming to their 
 full growth. But in most other kinds, the constitu- 
 tion of the womb, that is, the hardness or dryness 
 thereof, is concurrent with the former cause. For the 
 colt hath about four years of growth; and so the fawn ; 
 and so the calf. But whelps, which come to their 
 growth, commonly, within three quarters of a year, 
 are but nine weeks in the womb. As for birds, as 
 there is less diversity amongst them in the time of 
 their bringing forth ; so there is less diversity in the 
 time of their growth : most of them coming to their 
 growth within a twelvemonth. 
 
 760. Some creatures bring forth many young ones 
 at a burden : as bitches, hares, conies, etc. Some or- 
 dinarily but one ; as women, lionesses, etc. This may
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAI, HISTORY. 499 
 
 be caused, either by their quantity of sperm required 
 to the producing one of that kind ; which if less be 
 required, may admit greater number; if more, fewer: 
 or by the partitions and cells of the womb, which may 
 sever the sperm. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching species visible. 
 
 761. There is no doubt, but light by refraction 
 will shew greater, as well as things coloured. For 
 like as a shilling in the bottom of the water will shew 
 greater ; so will a candle in a lanthorn, in the bottom 
 of the water. I have heard of a practice, that glow- 
 worms in glasses were put in the water to make the 
 fish come. But I am not yet informed, whether when 
 a diver diveth, having his eyes open, and swimmeth 
 upon his back ; whether, I say, he see things in the 
 air, greater or less. For it is manifest, that when the 
 eye standeth in the finer medium, and the object is in 
 the grosser, things shew greater: but contrariwise, when 
 the eye is placed in the grosser medium, and the ob- 
 ject in the finer, how it worketh I know not. 
 
 762. It would be well bolted out, whether great 
 refractions may not be made upon reflexions, as well 
 as upon direct beams. For example, we see, that 
 take an empty bason, put an angel of gold, or what 
 you will, into it ; then go so far from the bason, till 
 you cannot see the angel, because it is not in a right 
 line ; then fill the bason with water, and you shall see 
 it out of its place, because of the reflexion. To pro- 
 ceed therefore, put a looking-glass into a bason of 
 water ; I suppose you shall not see the image in a 
 right line, or at equal angles, but aside. I know not 
 whether this experiment may not be extended so, as 
 you might see the image, and not the glass ; which 
 for beauty and strangeness were a fine proof: for then 
 you should see the image like a spirit in the air. As 
 for example, if there be a cistern or pool of water, you 
 shall place over against it a picture of the devil, or 
 what you will, so as you do not see the water. Then 
 put a looking-glass in the water : now if you can see 
 the devil's picture aside, not seeing the water, it would
 
 500 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. Vlll. 
 
 look like a devil indeed. They have an old tale in 
 Oxford, that Friar Bacon walked between two steeples; 
 which was thought to be done by glasses, when he 
 walked upon the ground. 
 
 Experiments in consort touching impulsion and per- 
 cussion. 
 
 763. A weighty body put into motion is more 
 easily impelled than at first when it resteth. The 
 cause is, partly because motion doth discuss the torpor 
 of solid bodies ; w^hich, beside their motion of gravity, 
 have in them a natural appetite not to move at all ; 
 and partly, because a body that resteth, doth get, by 
 the resistance of the body upon which it resteth, a 
 stronger compression of parts than it liath of itself: 
 and therefore needeth more force to be put in motion. 
 For if a weighty body be pensile, and hang but by a 
 thread, the percussion will make an impulsion very near 
 as easily as if it were already in motion, 
 
 764. A body over-great or over-small, will not be 
 thrown so far as a body of a middle size : so that, it 
 secmeth, there must be a commensuration, or propor- 
 tion between the body moved and the force, to make 
 it move well. The cause is, because to the impulsion 
 there is requisite the force of the body that moveth, 
 and the resistance of the body that is moved : and if 
 the body be too great, it yicldeth too little ; and if it 
 be too small, it resisteth too little. 
 
 765. It is common experience, that no weight will 
 press or cut so strong, being laid upon a body, as 
 falling or strucken from above. It may be the air 
 hath some part in furthering the percussion ; but the 
 chief cause I take to be, for that the parts of the body 
 moved have by impulsion, or by the motion of gravity 
 continued, a compression in them, as well- downwards, 
 as they have when they arc thrown, or shot through 
 the air, forwards. I conceive also, that the quick loss 
 of that motion preventeth the resistance of the body 
 below ; and priority of the force always is of great 
 efficacy, as appeareth in infinite instances.
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 501 
 
 Experiment solitary touching tilillation. 
 
 766. Tickling is most in the soles of the feet, and 
 under the arm-holes, and on the sides. The cause is 
 the thinness of the skin in those parts, joined with 
 the rareness of hcing touched there : for all tickling 
 is a light motion of the spirits, which the thinness of 
 the skin, and suddenness and rareness of touch do 
 further : for we see a feather, or a rush, drawn along 
 the lip or check, doth tickle ; whereas a thing more 
 obtuse, or a touch more hard, doth not. And for 
 suddenness, we see no man can tickle himself: we see 
 also that the palm of the iiand, though it hath as 
 thin a skin as the other parts mentioned, yet is not 
 ticklish, because it is accustomed to be touched. 
 Tickling also causeth laugliter. The cause may be 
 the emission of the spirits, and so of the breath, by a 
 flight from titillation ; for upon tickling we see there 
 is ever a starting or shrinking away of the part to 
 avoid it; and we see also, that if you tickle the 
 nostrils with a feather, or straw, it procureth sneezing; 
 which is a sudden emission of the spirits, that do 
 likewise expel the moisture. And tickling is ever 
 painful, and not well endured. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the scarcity of rain in Egypt. 
 
 767. It is strange, that the river of Nilus overflow- 
 ing, as it doth, the country of Egypt, there should be, 
 nevertheless, little or no rain in that country. The 
 cause must be either in the nature of the water, or in 
 the nature of the air, or of both. In the water, it 
 may be ascribed either unto the long race of the wa- 
 ter ; for swift-running waters vapour not so much as 
 standing waters ; or else to the concoction of the wa- 
 ter ; for waters well concocted vapour not so much as 
 waters raw ; no more than waters upon the fire do va- 
 pour so much after some time of boiling as at the first. 
 And it is true that the water of Nilus is sweeter than 
 other waters in taste ; and it is excellent good for the 
 stone, and hypochondriacal melancholy, which shew- 
 etli it is lenifying ; and it runneth through a country 
 of a hot climate, and flat, without shade, either of 
 
 VOL. I. 2 k
 
 502 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIII. 
 
 woods or hills, whereby the sun must needs have 
 great power to concoct it. As for the air, from whence 
 I conceive this want of showers cometh chiefly, the 
 cause must be, for that the air is of itself thin and 
 thirsty ; and as soon as ever it getteth any moisture 
 from the water, it imbibeth and dissipateth it in the 
 whole body of the air, and suffereth it not to remain 
 in vapour, whereby it might breed rain. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching clarification. 
 
 768. It hath been touched in the title of percola- 
 tions, namely, such as are inwards, that the whites 
 of eggs and milk do clarify ; and it is certain, that in 
 Egypt they prepare and clarify the water of Nile, by 
 putting it into great jars of stone, and stirring it about 
 with a few stamped almonds, wherewith they also 
 besmear the mouth of the vessel ; and so draw it off, 
 after it hath rested some time. It were good to try 
 this clarifying with almonds in new beer, or muste, to 
 hasten and perfect the clarifying. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching plants without leaves. 
 
 769. There be scarce to be found any vegetables, 
 that have branches and no leaves, except you allow 
 coral for one. But there is also in the desarts of 
 S. IMacaria in Egypt, a plant which is long, leafless, 
 brown of colour, and branched like coral, save that 
 it closeth at the top. This being set in water within 
 a house, spreadeth and displayeth strangely ; and the 
 people thereabout have a superstitious belief, that 
 in the labour of women it helpeth to the easy de- 
 liverance. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the materials of glass. 
 
 770. The crystalline Venice glass is reported to 
 be a mixture in equal portions of stones brought from 
 Pa via by the river Ticinum, and the ashes of a weed, 
 called by the Arabs kal, which is gathered in a desart 
 between Alexandria and Rosctta ; and is by the 
 Egyptians used first for fuel ; and then they crush 
 the ashes into lumps like a stone, and so sell them to 
 the Venetians for their glass-works.
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 503 
 
 Experiment solitary t02i(liint> prohibition oj' putrefaction, 
 and the long conservation of bodies. 
 
 771. It is strange, and well to be noted, how long 
 carcases have continued uncorrupt, and in their for- 
 mer dimensions, as appeareth in the mummies of 
 Egypt ; having lasted, as is conceived, some of them, 
 three thousand years. It is true, they find means to 
 draw forth the brains, and to take forth the entrails, 
 which are the parts aptest to corrupt. But that is 
 nothing to the wonder : for we see what a soft and 
 corruptible substance the flesh of all the other parts of 
 the body is. But it should seem, that, according to 
 our observation and axiom in our hundredth experi- 
 ment, putrefaction, which we conceive to be so na- 
 tural a period of bodies, is but an accident ; and that 
 matter maketh not that haste to corruption that is 
 conceived. And therefore bodies in shining amber, 
 in quicksilver, in balms, whereof we now speak, in 
 wax, in honey, in gums, and, it may be, in conserva- 
 tories of snow, etc. are preserved very long. It need 
 not go for repetition, if we resume again that which 
 we said in the aforesaid experiment concerning anni- 
 hilation ; namely, that if you provide against three 
 causes of putrefaction, bodies will not corrupt : the 
 first is, that the air be excluded, for that undermineth 
 the body, and conspireth with the spirit of the body 
 to dissolve it. The second is, that the body adjacent 
 and ambient be not commatcrial, but merely hetero- 
 gcncal towards the body that is to be preserved ; for 
 if nothing can be received by the one, nothing can 
 issue from the other; such are quicksilver and white 
 amber, to herbs, and flics, and such bodies. The 
 third is, that the body to be preserved be not of that 
 gross that it may corrupt within itself, although no 
 part of it issue into the body adjacent : and therefore 
 it must be rather thin and small, than of bulk. 
 There is a fourth remedy also, which is, that if the 
 body to be preserved be of bulk, as a corpse is, then 
 the body that incloseth it must have a virtue to draw 
 forth, and dry the moisture of the inward body : for 
 else the putrefaction will play within, though nothing 
 
 2 K 2
 
 504 NATURAL HISTORY. [cENT. VIII. 
 
 issue forth. I remember Livy doth relate, that there 
 were found at a tnue two coffins of lead in a tomb ; 
 whereof the one contained the body of king Numa, 
 it being some four hundred years after his death : and 
 the other, his books of sacred rites and ceremonies, 
 and the discipline of the pontiffs ; and that in the 
 coffin that had the body, there was nothing at all to 
 be seen, but a little light cinders about the sides ; but 
 in the coffin that had the books, they were found as 
 fresh as if they had been but newly written, being 
 written on parchment, and covered over with watch- 
 candles of wax three or four fold. By this it scemeth 
 that the Romans in Numa's time were not so good 
 embalmers as the Egyptians were ; which was the 
 cause that the body was utterly consumed. But I 
 find in Plutarch, and others, that when Augustus 
 Caesar visited the sepulchre of Alexander the Great 
 in Alexandi-ia, he found the body to keep its dimen- 
 sion j but withal, that notwithstanding all the em- 
 balming, which no doubt was of the best, the body 
 was so tender, as Caesar, touching but the nose of 
 it, defaced it. Which maketh me find it very strange, 
 that the Egyptian mummies should be reported to be 
 as hard as stone-pitch ; for I find no difference but 
 one, which indeed may be very material; namely, 
 that the ancient Egyptian mummies were shrowdcd 
 in a number of folds of linen, besmeared with gums, 
 in manner of scar-cloth, which it doth not appear was 
 practised upon the body of Alexander. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the abundance of nitre in 
 certain sea-shores. 
 
 772. Near the castle of Caty, and by the wells of 
 Assan, in the land of Idumea, a great part of the 
 way you would think the sea were near at hand, 
 though it be a good distance off: and it is notliing 
 but the sinning of the nitre upon the sea sands, such 
 abundance of nitre the shores there do put forth.
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 505 
 
 Experiment solitary touching bodies that are borne up 
 by water. 
 
 773. The Dead sea, which voinitetli up bitumen, 
 is of tliat crassitude, as living bodies bound hand and 
 foot cast into it have been borne up, and not sunk ; 
 wliich sheweth, that all sinking into water is but an 
 ovcr-weiglit of the body put into the water in respect 
 of the water ; so that you may make water so strong 
 and heavy, of quicksilver, pcrliaps, or the like, as may 
 bear up iron ; of which I see no use, but imposture. 
 We see also, that all nietals, except gold, for the same 
 reason, swim ujion quicksilver. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching ftuil that consumeth little 
 or nothing. 
 
 77*1. It is reported, that at the foot of a hill near 
 the mm^c mortuum there is a black stone, whereof 
 pilgrims make fires, which burnetii like a coal, and 
 diminislietli not, but only waxctli brighter and whiter. 
 Tliat it should do so is not strange : for we see iron 
 red-hot burncth, and consumeth not ; but the strange- 
 ness is, that it should continue any time so : for iron, 
 as soon as it is out of the fire, deadeth straightways. 
 Certainly it were a thing of great use and profit, if 
 you could find out fuel tliat Avould burn hot, and yet 
 last long : neither am I altogether incredulous, but 
 there may be such candles as they say are made of 
 salamander's wool; being a kind of mineral, which 
 whitcncth also in the burning, and consumeth not. 
 The question is tliis ; fhimc must be made of some- 
 what, and commonly it is made of some tangible 
 body which hath weight : but it is not impossible 
 perhaps that it should be made of spirit, or vapour, in 
 a body, which spirit or vapour hath no weight, such 
 as is the matter of ignis fatuus. But then you will 
 say, that that vapour also can last but a short time : 
 to that it may be answered, that by the help of oil, 
 and wax, and other candlc-stuflf', the flame may con- 
 tinue, and the wick not burn.
 
 gQ6 NATUUAl. HISTORY. [CENT. Vlll. 
 
 Experiment solitary (Economical touching cheap fuel. 
 
 775. Sea-coal lasts longer than charcoal ; and 
 charcoal of roots, being coaled into great pieces, lasts 
 longer than ordinary charcoal. Turf and peat, and 
 cow-sheards, are cheap fuels, and last long. Small- 
 coal, or brier-coal, poured upon charcoal, make them 
 last longer. Sedge is a cheap fuel to brew or bake 
 with : the rather because it is good for nothing else. 
 Trial would be made of some mixture of sea-coal 
 with earth or chalk ; for if that mixture be, as the 
 sea-coal men use it, privily, to make the bulk of the 
 coal greater, it is deceit ; but if it be used purposely, 
 and be made known, it is saving. 
 
 Experiment solitary toucfmig the gathering of' wind for 
 freshness. 
 
 776. It is at this day in use in Gaza, to couch 
 potsherds or vessels of earth in their walls, to gather 
 the wind from the top, and to pass it down in spouts 
 into rooms. It is a device for freshness in great heats: 
 and it is said, there are some rooms in Italy and Spain 
 for freshness, and gathering tlie winds and air in the 
 heats of summer ; but they be but pennings of the 
 winds, and enlarging them again, and making them 
 reverberate, and go round in circles, rather than this 
 device of spouts in the wall. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the trials of airs. 
 
 777. There would be used much diligence in the 
 choice of some bodies and places, as it were, for the 
 tasting of air ; to discover the wholesomeness or un- 
 wholesomeness, as well of seasons, as of the seats of 
 dwellings. It is certain, that there be some houses 
 wherein confitures and pies will gather movdd more 
 than in others. And I am persuaded, that a piece of 
 raw flesh or fish will sooner corrupt in some airs than 
 in others. They be noble experiments that can make 
 this discovery ; for tliey serve for a natural divination 
 of seasons, better tlian the astronomers can by their 
 figures : and again, they teach men where to cliuse 
 their dwelling for their better licalth.
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTOKY. 507 
 
 Experiment solitary touching increasing of milk in milch 
 beasts. 
 
 778. There is a kind of stone about Bethlehem, 
 whicli they grind to powder, and put into water, 
 whereof cattle drink, whicli maketh them give more 
 milk. Surely there should be some better trials made 
 of mixtures of water in ponds for cattle, to make them 
 more milch, or to fatten them, or to keep them from 
 murrain. It may be chalk and nitre are of the best. 
 
 Experiments solitary touching sand of the nature of glass. 
 
 779. It is reported, that in the valley near the 
 mountain Carmel in Judea there is a sand, which of 
 all other hath most affinity with glass : insomuch as 
 other minerals laid in it turn to a glassy substance 
 without the fire ; and again, glass put into it turneth 
 into the mother sand. The thing is very strange, if it 
 be true : and it is likeliest to be caused by some na- 
 tural furnace or heat in the earth : and yet they do not 
 speak of any eruption of flames. It were good to try 
 in glass-works, whether the crude materials of glass, 
 mingled with glass already made, and re-molten, do 
 not facilitate the making of glass with less heat. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the growth of coral. 
 
 780. In the sea, upon the south-west of Sicily, 
 much coral is found. It is a submarine plant. It 
 hath no leaves : it brancheth only when it is under 
 water ; it is soft, and green of colour ; but being 
 brought into the air, it becometh hard and shining 
 red, as we see. It is said also to have a white berry ; 
 but we find it not brought over with the coral. Be- 
 like it is cast away as nothing worth : inquire better 
 of it, for the discovery of the nature of the plant. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the gathering of mamiu. 
 
 781. The manna of Calabria is the best, and in 
 most plenty. They gather it from the leaf of the 
 mulberry-tree ; but not of such midberry-trces as grow 
 in the vallies. And manna falleth upon the leaves 
 by night, as other dews do. It should seem, that
 
 508 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIH. 
 
 before those dews come upon trees in the vallies, they 
 dissipate and cannot hold out. It should seem also, 
 the mulberry leaf itself hath some coagulating virtue, 
 which iuspissateth the dew, for that it is not found 
 upon other trees : and we see by the silk- worm, which 
 feedeth upon that leaf, what a dainty smooth juice it 
 hath ; and the leaves also, especially of the black 
 mulberry, are somewhat bristly, which may help to 
 preserve the dew. Certainly it were not amiss to ob- 
 serve a little better the dews that fall upon trees, or 
 herbs, growing on mountains ; for it may be many dews 
 fall, that spend before they come to the vallies. And 
 I suppose, that he that would gather the best May- 
 dew for medicine, should gather it from the hills. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the correcting of ivine. 
 
 782. It is said they have a manner to prepare 
 their Greek wines, to keep them from fuming and 
 
 . inebriating, by adding some sulphur or alum : whereof 
 the one is unctuous, and the other is astringent. And 
 certain it is, that those two natures do best repress 
 fumes. This experiment would be transferred unto 
 other wine and strong beer, by putting in some like 
 substances while they work ; v^'hich may make them 
 both to fume less, and to inflame less. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the materials of wild-fire. 
 
 783. It is conceived by some, not improbably, that 
 the reason why wild-fires, wliereof the principal in- 
 gredient is bitumen, do not quench with water, is, 
 for that the first concretion of bitumen is a mixture of 
 a fiery and watery substance ; so is not sulphur. This 
 appearcth, for that in the place near Puteoli, which 
 they call the court of Vulcan, you shall hear under 
 the earth a horrible thundering of fire and water con- 
 ilicting together ; and there break forth also spouts 
 of boiling water. Now tliat place yieldetli great 
 (quantities of bitumen ; wliercas iEtna, and Vesuvius, 
 and tlie like, which consist upon sulplnn*, shoot fortli 
 smoke, and aslies, and pun)ice, but no water. It is 
 reported also, that bitunun mingled witli lime, and
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 509 
 
 put under water, will make as it were an artificial 
 rock ; the substance bccometh so hard. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching plaister groiving as hard 
 as marble, 
 
 784. There is a cement, compounded of flour, 
 whites of eggs, and stone powdered, that becometh 
 hard as marble : whercwitli Piscina Mirabilis, near 
 Cuma, is said to have the walls plaistcred. And it is 
 certain and tried, that the powder of loadstone and 
 flint, by the addition of whites of eggs, and gum- 
 dragon, made into paste, will in a few days harden to 
 the hardness of a stone. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching judgment of the aire in 
 some ulcers and hurts. 
 
 785. It hath been noted by the ancients, that in 
 full or impure bodies, ulcers or hurts in the legs are 
 hard to cure, and in the head more easy. The cause 
 is, for that ulcers or hurts in the legs require desicca- 
 tion, which by the defluxion of humours to the lower 
 parts is hindred ; whereas hurts and ulcers in the 
 head require it not ; but contrariwise dryness maketli 
 them more apt to consolidate. And in modern ob- 
 servation, the like difference hath been found between 
 Frenchmen and Englishmen ; whereof the one's con- 
 stitution is more dry, and the other's more moist. 
 And therefore a hurt of the head is harder to cure in 
 a Frenchman, and of the leg in an Englishman. 
 
 Experiment solitary toiiching the healthfulness or 7m- 
 hcaUhfulness of the southern ivind. 
 
 786. It hath been noted by the ancients, that south- 
 ern ^vinds, blowing much, witliout rain, do cause a 
 feverous disposition of the year ; but with rain, not. 
 The cause is, for that southern winds do of themselves 
 qualify the air, to be apt to cause fevers ; but when 
 showers are joined, they do refrigerate in part, and 
 check tlie sultry heat of the southern wind. Therefore 
 this holdeth not in the sea-coasts, because the vapour 
 of the sea, without showers, doth refresh.
 
 510 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIII. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching wounds. 
 
 787. It hath been noted by the ancients, that 
 wounds which are made with brass heal more easily 
 than wounds made v/ith iron. The cause is, for that 
 brass hath in itself a sanative virtue ; and so in the 
 very instant helpeth somewhat : but iron is corrosive, 
 and not sanative. And therefore it were good, that 
 the instruments which are used by chirurgeons about 
 wounds, were rather of brass than iron. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching mortification by cold. 
 
 788. In the cold countries, when men's noses and 
 ears are mortified, and, as it were, gangrened with 
 cold, if they come to a fire they rot off presently. The 
 cause is, for that the few spirits that remain in those 
 parts, are suddenly drawn forth, and so putrefaction 
 is made complete. But snow put upon them helpeth ; 
 for that it preserveth those spirits that remain, till 
 they can revive ; and besides, snow hath in it a 
 secret warmth : as the monk proved out of the text ; 
 " qui dat nivem sicut lanam, gelu sicut cincres spar- 
 git." Whereby he did infer, that snow did warm 
 like wool, and frost did fret like ashes. Warm wa- 
 ter also doth good ; because by little and little it 
 openeth the pores, without any sudden working upon 
 the spirits. This experiment may be transferred to 
 the cure of gangrenes, either coming of themselves, or 
 induced by too much applying of opiates ; wherein you 
 must beware of dry heat, and resort to things that are 
 refrigerant, with an inward warmth, and virtue of 
 cherishing. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching weight. 
 
 789. Weigh iron and aqua fortis severally ; then 
 dissolve the iron in the aqua fortis, and weigh the 
 dissolution ; and you shall find it to bear as good 
 weight as the bodies did severally : notwithstanding 
 a good deal of waste by a thick vapour that issucth 
 during the working ; which sheweth that the opening 
 of a body doth increase the weight. This was tried
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 511 
 
 once or twice, but I know not whether there were any 
 error in the trial. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the super-natation of bodies. 
 
 790. Take oi aquafortis two ounces, of quicksilver 
 two drams, for that charge the aquafortis will bear; 
 the dissolution will not bear a flint as big as a nut- 
 meg : yet, no doubt, the increasing of the weight of 
 water will increase its power of bearing ; as we see 
 brine, when it is salt enough, will bear an Qgg. And 
 I remember well a physician, that used to give some 
 mineral baths for the gout, etc. and the body when it 
 was put into the bath, could not get down so easily as 
 in ordinary water. But it seemeth, the weight of the 
 quicksilver more than the weight of a stone, doth not 
 compcnse the weight of a stone more than the weight 
 of the aqua fortis. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the flying of unequal bodies 
 in the air. 
 
 791 . Let there be a body of unequal weight, as of 
 wood and lead, or bone and lead; if you throw it from 
 you with the light end forward, it will turn, and the 
 weightier end will recover to be forwards ; unless the 
 body be over-long. The cause is, for that the more 
 dense body hath a more violent pressure of the parts 
 from the first impulsion ; which is the cause, though 
 heretofore not found out, as hath been often said, of 
 all violent motions ; and when the hinder part moveth 
 swifter, for that it less endureth pressure of parts, than 
 the forward part can make way for it, it must needs 
 be that the body turn over : for, turned, it can more 
 easily draw forward the ligliter part. Galilaeus noteth 
 it well, that if an open trough, wherein water is, be 
 driven faster than the water can follow, the water ga- 
 thereth upon an heap towards the hinder end, where 
 the motion began, which he supposeth, holding con- 
 fidently the motion of the earth, to be the cause of 
 the ebbing and flowing of the ocean ; because the earth 
 over-runneth the water. Which theory though it be 
 false, yet the first experiment is true. As for the in-
 
 512 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIII. 
 
 equality of the pressure of parts, it appeareth maui- 
 fcstly in this ; that if you take a body of stone or iron, 
 and another of wood, of the same magnitude and shape, 
 and throw them with equal force, you cannot possibly 
 throw the wood so far as the stone or iron. 
 
 JExpei-iment solitary touching water, that it may be iJw 
 medium of sounds. 
 
 792. It is certain, as it hath been formerly in part 
 touched, that water may be the medium of sounds- 
 If you dash a stone against a stone in the bottom of 
 the water, it maketh a sound. So a long pole struck 
 upon gravel in the bottom of the water maketh a 
 sound. Nay, if you should think that the sound 
 cometli up by the pole, and not by the water, you 
 shall find that an anchor let down by a rope maketh 
 a sound : and yet the rope is no solid body whereby 
 tlic sound can ascend. 
 
 Experiment solitary of the flight of the spirits upo7i odious 
 objects. 
 
 793. All objects of the senses which are very offen- 
 sive, do cause the spirits to retire: and upon their flight, 
 the parts are, in some degree, destitute ; and so there 
 is induced in them a trepidation and horror. For 
 sounds, we see that the grating of a saw, or any very 
 harsh noise, will set the teeth on edge, and make all 
 the body shiver. For tastes, we see that in the taking 
 of a potion or pills, tlie liead and the neck shake. For 
 odious smells, tlie like effect followeth, which is less 
 perceived, because there is a remedy at hand by stop- 
 ping of the nose ; but in horses, that can use no such 
 help, we see the smell of a carrion, especially of a dead 
 horse, maketh them fly away, and take on almost as 
 if they were mad. For feeling, if you come out of 
 the sun suddenly into a shade, there followeth a chil- 
 ness or shivering in all the body. And even in sight, 
 which hath in effect no odious object, coming into 
 sudden darkness, induceth an offer to shiver. 
 
 ExpcrimeM solitary touching the snpcr-ro.flection of echos. 
 791-. Tliere is in the city of Ticinum in Italy, a 
 cluucli that hatli windows only from above : it is in
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 513, 
 
 length an hundred feet, in breadth twenty feet, and 
 in height near fifty; having a door in the midst. It 
 reporteth the voice twelve or thirteen times, if you 
 stand by the close end-wall over-against the door. The 
 echo fadeth, and dieth by little and little, as the echo 
 at Pont-Charenton doth. And the voice soundeth as 
 if it came from above the door. And if you stand at 
 the lower end, or on either side of the door, the echo 
 holdeth ; but if you stand in the door, or in the midst 
 just over-against the door, not. Note, that all echos 
 sound better against old walls than new ; because they 
 are more dry and hollow. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the force of imagination, 
 imitating that of the sense. 
 
 795. Those effects which are wrought by the per- 
 cussion of the sense, and by things in fact, are produced 
 likewise in some degree by the imagination. There- 
 fore if a man see another eat sour or acid things, which 
 set the teeth on edge, this object tainteth the imagi- 
 nation. So that he that seeth the thing done by 
 another, hath his own teeth also set on edge. So if a 
 man see another turn swiftly and long, or if he look 
 upon wheels that turn, himself waxetli tura-sick. So 
 if a man be upon an high place without rails or good 
 hold, except he be used to it, he is ready to fall : for 
 imagining a fall, it puttcth his spirits into the very 
 action of a fall. So many upon the seeing of others 
 bleed, or strangled, or tortured, themselves arc ready 
 to faint, as if they bled, or were in strife. 
 
 Experiment solitary touchifig preservation of' bodies. 
 
 796. Take a stock-gilly-flower, and tic it gently 
 upon a stick, and put them both into a stoop-glass full 
 of quicksilver, so that the flower be covered : then lay 
 a little weight upon the top of the glass that may keep 
 the stick down ; and look upon them after four or five 
 days ; and you shall find the flower fresh, and the stalk 
 harder and less flexible than it was. If you compare 
 it with another flower gathered at the same time, it 
 will be the more manifest. This sheweth, that bodies 
 do preserve excellently in quicksilver ; and not pre-
 
 514 NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIII. 
 
 serve only, but by the coldness of the quicksilver indu- 
 rate ; for the freshness of the flower may be merely 
 conservation ; which is the more to be observed, because 
 the quicksilver presseth the flower ; but the stiffness 
 of the stalk cannot be without induration, from the 
 cold, as it seemeth, of the quicksilver. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the growth or multiplying of 
 metals. 
 
 797. It is reported by some of the ancients, that in 
 Cyprus there is a kind of iron, that being cut into 
 little pieces, and put into the ground, if it be well 
 watered, will increase into greater pieces. This is cer- 
 tain, and known of old, that lead will multiply and 
 increase, as hath been seen in old statues of stone 
 which have been put in cellars ; the feet of them being 
 bound with leaden bands ; where, after a time, there 
 appeared, that the lead did swell ; insomuch as it 
 hanged upon the stone like warts. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the drowmng of the more 
 base metal in the more precious. 
 
 798. I call drowning of metals, when that the baser 
 metal is so incorporate with the more rich, as it can 
 by no means be separated again ; which is a kind of 
 version, though false : as if silver should be inseparably 
 incorporated with gold : or copper and lead with silver. 
 The ancient electrum had in it a fifth of silver to the 
 gold, and made a compound metal, as fit for most uses 
 as gold, and more resplendent, and more qualified in 
 some other properties ; but then that was easily sepa- 
 rated. This to do privily, or to make the compound 
 pass for the ricli metal simple, is an adulteration or 
 counterfeiting : but if it be done avowedly, and with- 
 out disguising, it may be a great saving of the richer 
 metal. I remember to have heard of a man skilfnl in 
 metals, that a fifteenth part of silver incorporated with 
 gold will not be recovered by any water of separation, 
 except you put a greater quantity of silver to draw to 
 it the less : which, he said, is the last refuge in sepa- 
 rations. But that is a tedious way, which no man,
 
 CENT. VIII.] NATURAL HISTORY. 5X5 
 
 almost, will think on. This would be better inquired : 
 and the quantity of the fifteenth turned to a twentieth ; 
 and likewise with some little additional, that may 
 further the intrinsic incorporation. Note, that silver 
 in gold will be detected by weight, compared with the 
 dimension ; but lead in silver, lead being the weightier 
 metal, will not be detected, if you take so much the 
 more silver as will countervail the over-weight of the 
 lead. 
 
 Eocperiment solitary touching jixation of bodies. 
 
 799. Gold is the only substance which hath nothing 
 in it volatile, and yet melteth without much difiicidty. 
 The melting sheweth that it is not jejune, nor scarce 
 in spirit. So that the fixing of it is not want of spirit 
 to fly out, but the equal spreading of the tangible 
 parts, and the close coacervation of them : whereby 
 they have the less appetite, and no means at all to 
 issue forth. It were good therefore to try, whether 
 glass re-molten do lose any weight ? for the parts in 
 glass are evenly spread ; but they are not so close as in 
 gold ; as we see by the easy admission of light, heat, 
 and cold ; and by the smallness of the weight. There 
 be other bodies fixed, which have little or no spirit ; so 
 as there is nothing to fly out ; as we see in the stuff 
 whereof coppels are made, which they put into furnaces, 
 upon which fire worketh not : so that there are three 
 causes of fixation ; the even spreading both of the 
 spirits and tangible parts, the closeness of the tangible 
 pai'ts, and the jejuneness or extreme comminution of 
 spirits : of which three, the two first may be joined 
 with a nature liquefiable, the last not. 
 
 Experiment solitary touching the restless nature of things 
 in themselves, and their desire to change. 
 
 800. It is a profound contemplation in nature, to 
 consider of the emptiness, as we may call it, or insatis- 
 faction of several bodies, and of their appetite to take 
 in others. Air takcth in lights, and sounds, and smells, 
 and vapours ; and it is most manifest, that it doth it 
 with a kind of thirst, as not satisfied with its own
 
 516 ^ NATURAL HISTORY. [CENT. VIII. 
 
 former consistence ; for else it would never receive 
 them in so suddenly and easily. Water, and all li- 
 quors do hastily receive dry and more terrestrial bodies, 
 proportionable : and dry bodies, on the other side, drink 
 in waters and liquors : so that, as it was well said by 
 one of the ancients, of earthy and watery substances, 
 one is a glue to another. Parchment, skins, cloth, etc. 
 drink in liquors, though themselves be entire bodies, 
 and not comminuted, as sand and ashes, nor apparently 
 porous : metals themselves do receive in readily strong 
 waters ; and strong waters likewise do readily pierce 
 into metals and stones : and that strong water will 
 touch upon gold, that will not touch upon silver, and 
 e converso. And gold, which seemeth by the weight 
 to be the closest and most solid body, doth greedily 
 drink in quicksilver. And it seemeth, that this recep- 
 tion of other bodies is not violent : for it is many times 
 reciprocal, and as it were with consent. Of the cause 
 of this, and to what axiom it may be referred, consider 
 attentively ; for as for the pretty assertion, that matter 
 is like a common strumpet, that desireth all forms, it 
 is but a wandering notion. Only flame doth not con- 
 tent itself to take in any other body, but either to 
 overcome and turn another body into itself, as by 
 victory ; or itself to die, and go out. 
 
 END OF VOL. T. 
 
 2 9 
 
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