Francis Bacon
THE ESSAYSOR COUNSELS, CIVIL AND MORAL, OF FRANCIS Ld. VERULAMVISCOUNT ST. ALBANS
THE ESSAYS
Of TruthOf DeathOf Unity in ReligionOf RevengeOf AdversityOf Simulation and DissimulationOf Parents and ChildrenOf Marriage and Single LifeOf EnvyOf LoveOf Great PlaceOf BoldnessOf Goodness and Goodness of NatureOf NobilityOf Seditions and TroublesOf AtheismOf SuperstitionOf TravelOf EmpireOf CounselOf DelaysOf CunningOf Wisdom for a Man's SelfOf InnovationsOf DispatchOf Seeming WiseOf FriendshipOf ExpenseOf the True Greatness of Kingdoms and EstatesOf Regiment of HealthOf SuspicionOf DiscourseOf PlantationsOf RichesOf PropheciesOf AmbitionOf Masques and TriumphsOf Nature in MenOf Custom and EducationOf FortuneOf UsuryOf Youth and AgeOf BeautyOf DeformityOf BuildingOf GardensOf NegotiatingOf Followers and FriendsOf SuitorsOf StudiesOf FactionOf Ceremonies and RespectsOf PraiseOf Vain-gloryOf Honor and ReputationOf JudicatureOf AngerOf Vicissitude of ThingsOf Fame
TO
THE RIGHT HONORABLE
MY VERY GOOD LORD
THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM
HIS GRACE, LORD
HIGH ADMIRAL OF ENGLAND
EXCELLENT LORD:
SALOMON saies; A good Name is as a preciousoyntment; And I assure my selfe, such wilyour Graces Name bee, with Posteritie. For yourFortune, and Merit both, have been Eminent. Andyou have planted Things, that are like to last. I doenow publish my Essayes; which, of all my otherworkes, have beene most Currant: For that, as itseemes, they come home, to Mens Businesse, andBosomes. I have enlarged them, both in Number, and Weight; So that they are indeed a New Worke. I thought it therefore agreeable, to my Affection, and Obligation to your Grace, to prefix your Namebefore them, both in English, and in Latine. For Idoe conceive, that the Latine Volume of them, (being in the Universall Language) may last, aslong as Bookes last. My Instauration, I dedicated tothe King: My Historie of Henry the Seventh, (which I have now also translated into Latine) andmy Portions of Naturall History, to the Prince:And these I dedicate to your Grace; Being of thebest Fruits, that by the good Encrease, which Godgives to my Pen and Labours, I could yeeld. God leade your Grace by the Hand. Your Gracesmost Obliged and faithfull Servant, FR. ST. ALBAN
Of Truth
WHAT is truth? said jesting Pilate, and wouldnot stay for an answer. Certainly there be, that delight in giddiness, and count it a bondage tofix a belief; affecting free-will in thinking, as wellas in acting. And though the sects of philosophersof that kind be gone, yet there remain certain dis-coursing wits, which are of the same veins, thoughthere be not so much blood in them, as was in thoseof the ancients. But it is not only the difficulty andlabor, which men take in finding out of truth, noragain, that when it is found, it imposeth uponmen's thoughts, that doth bring lies in favor; buta natural, though corrupt love, of the lie itself. Oneof the later school of the Grecians, examineth thematter, and is at a stand, to think what should bein it, that men should love lies; where neither theymake for pleasure, as with poets, nor for advan-tage, as with the merchant; but for the lie's sake. But I cannot tell; this same truth, is a naked, andopen day-light, that doth not show the masks, andmummeries, and triumphs, of the world, half sostately and daintily as candle-lights. Truth mayperhaps come to the price of a pearl, that showethbest by day; but it will not rise to the price of adiamond, or carbuncle, that showeth best in variedlights. A mixture of a lie doth ever add pleasure. Doth any man doubt, that if there were taken outof men's minds, vain opinions, flattering hopes, false valuations, imaginations as one would, andthe like, but it would leave the minds, of a numberof men, poor shrunken things, full of melancholyand indisposition, and unpleasing to themselves?
One of the fathers, in great severity, called poesyvinum daemonum, because it fireth the imagina-tion; and yet, it is but with the shadow of a lie. But it is not the lie that passeth through the mind, but the lie that sinketh in, and settleth in it, thatdoth the hurt; such as we spake of before. But how-soever these things are thus in men's depravedjudgments, and affections, yet truth, which onlydoth judge itself, teacheth that the inquiry of truth, which is the love-making, or wooing of it, theknowledge of truth, which is the presence of it, andthe belief of truth, which is the enjoying of it, isthe sovereign good of human nature. The firstcreature of God, in the works of the days, was thelight of the sense; the last, was the light of reason;and his sabbath work ever since, is the illumina-tion of his Spirit. First he breathed light, upon theface of the matter or chaos; then he breathed light, into the face of man; and still he breatheth and in-spireth light, into the face of his chosen. The poet, that beautified the sect, that was otherwise in-ferior to the rest, saith yet excellently well: It is apleasure, to stand upon the shore, and to see shipstossed upon the sea; a pleasure, to stand in the win-dow of a castle, and to see a battle, and the adven-tures thereof below: but no pleasure is comparableto the standing upon the vantage ground of truth(a hill not to be commanded, and where the air isalways clear and serene), and to see the errors, andwanderings, and mists, and tempests, in the valebelow; so always that this prospect be with pity, and not with swelling, or pride. Certainly, it isheaven upon earth, to have a man's mind move incharity, rest in providence, and turn upon thepoles of truth.
To pass from theological, and philosophicaltruth, to the truth of civil business; it will be ac-knowledged, even by those that practise it not, thatclear, and round dealing, is the honor of man'snature; and that mixture of falsehoods, is like alloyin coin of gold and silver, which may make themetal work the better, but it embaseth it. For thesewinding, and crooked courses, are the goings of theserpent; which goeth basely upon the belly, andnot upon the feet. There is no vice, that doth socover a man with shame, as to be found false andperfidious. And therefore Montaigne saith pret-tily, when he inquired the reason, why the wordof the lie should be such a disgrace, and such anodious charge? Saith he, If it be well weighed, tosay that a man lieth, is as much to say, as that he isbrave towards God, and a coward towards men. For a lie faces God, and shrinks from man. Surelythe wickedness of falsehood, and breach of faith, cannot possibly be so highly expressed, as in thatit shall be the last peal, to call the judgments of Godupon the generations of men; it being foretold, that when Christ cometh, he shall not find faithupon the earth.
Of Death
MEN fear death, as children fear to go in thedark; and as that natural fear in children, is increased with tales, so is the other. Certainly, the contemplation of death, as the wages of sin, and passage to another world, is holy and relig-ious; but the fear of it, as a tribute due unto nature, is weak. Yet in religious meditations, there is some-times mixture of vanity, and of superstition. Youshall read, in some of the friars' books of mortifica-tion, that a man should think with himself, whatthe pain is, if he have but his finger's end pressed, or tortured, and thereby imagine, what the painsof death are, when the whole body is corrupted, and dissolved; when many times death passeth, with less pain than the torture of a limb; for themost vital parts, are not the quickest of sense. Andby him that spake only as a philosopher, and nat-ural man, it was well said, Pompa mortis magisterret, quam mors ipsa. Groans, and convulsions, and a discolored face, and friends weeping, andblacks, and obsequies, and the like, show deathterrible. It is worthy the observing, that there is nopassion in the mind of man, so weak, but it mates, and masters, the fear of death; and therefore, death is no such terrible enemy, when a man hathso many attendants about him, that can win thecombat of him. Revenge triumphs over death; loveslights it; honor aspireth to it; grief flieth to it; fearpreoccupateth it; nay, we read, after Otho the em-peror had slain himself, pity (which is the tender-est of affections) provoked many to die, out of merecompassion to their sovereign, and as the truestsort of followers. Nay, Seneca adds niceness andsatiety: Cogita quamdiu eadem feceris; mori velle, non tantum fortis aut miser, sed etiam fastidiosuspotest. A man would die, though he were neithervaliant, nor miserable, only upon a weariness todo the same thing so oft, over and over. It is no lessworthy, to observe, how little alteration in goodspirits, the approaches of death make; for theyappear to be the same men, till the last instant. Augustus Caesar died in a compliment; Livia, con-jugii nostri memor, vive et vale. Tiberius in dissi-mulation; as Tacitus saith of him, Jam Tiberiumvires et corpus, non dissimulatio, deserebant. Ves-pasian in a jest, sitting upon the stool; Ut puto deusfio. Galba with a sentence; Feri, si ex re sit populiRomani; holding forth his neck. Septimius Severusin despatch; Adeste si quid mihi restat agendum. And the like. Certainly the Stoics bestowed toomuch cost upon death, and by their great prepara-tions, made it appear more fearful. Better saith he, qui finem vitae extremum inter munera ponatnaturae. It is as natural to die, as to be born; and toa little infant, perhaps, the one is as painful, as theother. He that dies in an earnest pursuit, is like onethat is wounded in hot blood; who, for the time, scarce feels the hurt; and therefore a mind fixed, and bent upon somewhat that is good, doth avertthe dolors of death. But, above all, believe it, thesweetest canticle is', Nunc dimittis; when a manhath obtained worthy ends, and expectations. Death hath this also; that it openeth the gate togood fame, and extinguisheth envy. - Extinctusamabitur idem.
Of Unity
IN RELIGION
RELIGION being the chief band of human so-ciety, it is a happy thing, when itself is wellcontained within the true band of unity. Thequarrels, and divisions about religion, were evilsunknown to the heathen. The reason was, becausethe religion of the heathen, consisted rather inrites and ceremonies, than in any constant belief. For you may imagine, what kind of faith theirswas, when the chief doctors, and fathers of theirchurch, were the poets. But the true God hath thisattribute, that he is a jealous God; and therefore, his worship and religion, will endure no mixture, nor partner. We shall therefore speak a few words, concerning the unity of the church; what are thefruits thereof ; what the bounds; and what themeans.
The fruits of unity (next unto the well pleasingof God, which is all in all) are two: the one, towardsthose that are without the church, the other, towards those that are within. For the former; it iscertain, that heresies, and schisms, are of all othersthe greatest scandals; yea, more than corruptionof manners. For as in the natural body, a wound, or solution of continuity, is worse than a corrupthumor; so in the spiritual. So that nothing, doth somuch keep men out of the church, and drive menout of the church, as breach of unity. And there-fore, whensoever it cometh to that pass, that onesaith, Ecce in deserto, another saith, Ecce in pene-tralibus; that is, when some men seek Christ, in theconventicles of heretics, and others, in an outwardface of a church, that voice had need continuallyto sound in men's ears, Nolite exire, - Go not out. The doctor of the Gentiles (the propriety of whosevocation, drew him to have a special care of thosewithout) saith, if an heathen come in, and hearyou speak with several tongues, will he not saythat you are mad? And certainly it is little better, when atheists, and profane persons, do hear ofso many discordant, and contrary opinions in re-ligion; it doth avert them from the church, andmaketh them, to sit down in the chair of thescorners. It is but a light thing, to be vouched in soserious a matter, but yet it expresseth well thedeformity. There is a master of scoffing, that in hiscatalogue of books of a feigned library, sets downthis title of a book, The Morris-Dance of Heretics. For indeed, every sect of them, hath a diverse pos-ture, or cringe by themselves, which cannot butmove derision in worldlings, and depraved politics, who are apt to contemn holy things.
As for the fruit towards those that are within; itis peace; which containeth infinite blessings. Itestablisheth faith; it kindleth charity; the outwardpeace of the church, distilleth into peace of con-science; and it turneth the labors of writing, andreading of controversies, into treaties of mortifica-tion and devotion.
Concerning the bounds of unity; the true plac-ing of them, importeth exceedingly. There appearto be two extremes. For to certain zealants, allspeech of pacification is odious. Is it peace, Jehu, ?What hast thou to do with peace? turn thee be-hind me. Peace is not the matter, but following, and party. Contrariwise, certain Laodiceans, andlukewarm persons, think they may accommodatepoints of religion, by middle way, and taking partof both, and witty reconcilements; as if they wouldmake an arbitrament between God and man. Boththese extremes are to be avoided; which will bedone, if the league of Christians, penned by ourSavior himself, were in two cross clauses thereof, soundly and plainly expounded: He that is notwith us, is against us; and again, He that is notagainst us, is with us; that is, if the points funda-mental and of substance in religion, were trulydiscerned and distinguished, from points notmerely of faith, but of opinion, order, or good in-tention. This is a thing may seem to many a mattertrivial, and done already. But if it were done lesspartially, it would be embraced more generally.
Of this I may give only this advice, according tomy small model. Men ought to take heed, of rend-ing God's church, by two kinds of controversies. The one is, when the matter of the point contro-verted, is too small and light, not worth the heatand strife about it, kindled only by contradiction. For, as it is noted, by one of the fathers, Christ'scoat indeed had no seam, but the church's vesturewas of divers colors; whereupon he saith, In vestevarietas sit, scissura non sit; they be two things, unity and uniformity. The other is, when thematter of the point controverted, is great, but it isdriven to an over-great subtilty, and obscurity; sothat it becometh a thing rather ingenious, thansubstantial. A man that is of judgment and under-standing, shall sometimes hear ignorant men dif-fer, and know well within himself, that thosewhich so differ, mean one thing, and yet theythemselves would never agree. And if it come soto pass, in that distance of judgment, which is be-tween man and man, shall we not think that Godabove, that knows the heart, doth not discern thatfrail men, in some of their contradictions, intendthe same thing; and accepteth of both? The natureof such controversies is excellently expressed, bySt. Paul, in the warning and precept, that he givethconcerning the same, Devita profanas vocum novi-tates, et oppositiones falsi nominis scientiae. Mencreate oppositions, which are not; and put theminto new terms, so fixed, as whereas the meaningought to govern the term, the term in effect gov-erneth the meaning. There be also two false peaces, or unities: the one, when the peace is grounded, but upon an implicit ignorance; for all colors willagree in the dark: the other, when it is pieced up, upon a direct admission of contraries, in funda-mental points. For truth and falsehood, in suchthings, are like the iron and clay, in the toes ofNebuchadnezzar's image; they may cleave, butthey will not incorporate.
Concerning the means of procuring unity; menmust beware, that in the procuring, or reuniting, of religious unity, they do not dissolve and defacethe laws of charity, and of human society. Therebe two swords amongst Christians, the spiritualand temporal; and both have their due office andplace, in the maintenance of religion. But we maynot take up the third sword, which is Mahomet'ssword, or like unto it; that is, to propagate religionby wars, or by sanguinary persecutions to forceconsciences; except it be in cases of overt scandal, blasphemy, or intermixture of practice againstthe state; much less to nourish seditions; to author-ize conspiracies and rebellions; to put the swordinto the people's hands; and the like; tending tothe subversion of all government, which is theordinance of God. For this is but to dash the firsttable against the second; and so to consider menas Christians, as we forget that they are men. Lucretius the poet, when he beheld the act of Aga-memnon, that could endure the sacrificing of hisown daughter, exclaimed: Tantum Religio potuitsuadere malorum.
What would he have said, if he had known ofthe massacre in France, or the powder treason ofEngland? He would have been seven times moreEpicure, and atheist, than he was. For as the tem-poral sword is to be drawn with great circumspec-tion in cases of religion; so it is a thing monstrousto put it into the hands of the common people. Letthat be left unto the Anabaptists, and other furies. It was great blasphemy, when the devil said, I willascend, and be like the highest; but it is greaterblasphemy, to personate God, and bring him insaying, I will descend, and be like the prince ofdarkness; and what is it better, to make the causeof religion to descend, to the cruel and execrableactions of murthering princes, butchery of people, and subversion of states and governments? Surelythis is to bring down the Holy Ghost, instead of thelikeness of a dove, in the shape of a vulture orraven; and set, out of the bark of a Christianchurch, a flag of a bark of pirates, and assassins. Therefore it is most necessary, that the church, bydoctrine and decree, princes by their sword, andall learnings, both Christian and moral, as by theirMercury rod, do damn and send to hell for ever, those facts and opinions tending to the support ofthe same; as hath been already in good part done. Surely in counsels concerning religion, that coun-sel of the apostle would be prefixed, Ira hominisnon implet justitiam Dei. And it was a notableobservation of a wise father, and no less ingenu-ously confessed; that those which held and per-suaded pressure of consciences, were commonlyinterested therein. , themselves, for their own ends.
Of Revenge
REVENGE is a kind of wild justice; which themore man' s nature runs to, the more oughtlaw to weed it out. For as for the first wrong, itdoth but offend the law; but the revenge of thatwrong, putteth the law out of office. Certainly, intaking revenge, a man is but even with his enemy;but in passing it over, he is superior; for it is aprince's part to pardon. And Solomon, I am sure, saith, It is the glory of a man, to pass by an offence. That which is past is gone, and irrevocable; andwise men have enough to do, with things presentand to come; therefore they do but trifle withthemselves, that labor in past matters. There is noman doth a wrong, for the wrong's sake; butthereby to purchase himself profit, or pleasure, orhonor, or the like. Therefore why should I beangry with a man, for loving himself better thanme? And if any man should do wrong, merely outof ill-nature, why, yet it is but like the thorn orbriar, which prick and scratch, because they cando no other. The most tolerable sort of revenge, isfor those wrongs which there is no law to remedy;but then let a man take heed, the revenge be suchas there is no law to punish; else a man's enemy isstill before hand, and it is two for one. Some, whenthey take revenge, are desirous, the party shouldknow, whence it cometh. This is the more gener-ous. For the delight seemeth to be, not so much indoing the hurt, as in making the party repent. Butbase and crafty cowards, are like the arrow thatflieth in the dark. Cosmus, duke of Florence, had adesperate saying against perfidious or neglectingfriends, as if those wrongs were unpardonable;You shall read (saith he) that we are commandedto forgive our enemies; but you never read, that weare commanded to forgive our friends. But yet thespirit of Job was in a better tune: Shall we (saithhe) take good at God's hands, and not be content totake evil also? And so of friends in a proportion. This is certain, that a man that studieth revenge, keeps his own wounds green, which otherwisewould heal, and do well. Public revenges are forthe most part fortunate; as that for the death ofCaesar; for the death of Pertinax; for the death ofHenry the Third of France; and many more. Butin private revenges, it is not so. Nay rather, vindic-tive persons live the life of witches; who, as theyare mischievous, so end they infortunate.
Of Adversity
IT WAS an high speech of Seneca (after themanner of the Stoics), that the good things, which belong to prosperity, are to be wished; butthe good things, that belong to adversity, are to beadmired. Bona rerum secundarum optabilia; ad-versarum mirabilia. Certainly if miracles be thecommand over nature, they appear most in adver-sity. It is yet a higher speech of his, than the other(much too high for a heathen), It is true greatness, to have in one the frailty of a man, and the securityof a God. Vere magnum habere fragilitatem homi-nis, securitatem Dei. This would have done betterin poesy, where transcendences are more allowed. And the poets indeed have been busy with it; forit is in effect the thing, which figured in thatstrange fiction of the ancient poets, which seemethnot to be without mystery; nay, and to have someapproach to the state of a Christian; that Hercules, when he went to unbind Prometheus (by whomhuman nature is represented), sailed the length ofthe great ocean, in an earthen pot or pitcher; livelydescribing Christian resolution, that saileth in thefrail bark of the flesh, through the waves of theworld. But to speak in a mean. The virtue of pros-perity, is temperance; the virtue of adversity, isfortitude; which in morals is the more heroicalvirtue. Prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testa-ment; adversity is the blessing of the New; whichcarrieth the greater benediction, and the clearerrevelation of God's favor. Yet even in the OldTestament, if you listen to David's harp, you shallhear as many hearse-like airs as carols; and thepencil of the Holy Ghost hath labored more in de-scribing the afflictions of Job, than the felicities ofSolomon. Prosperity is not without many fearsand distastes; and adversity is not without com-forts and hopes. We see in needle-works and em-broideries, it is more pleasing to have a lively work, upon a sad and solemn ground, than to have a darkand melancholy work, upon a lightsome ground:judge therefore of the pleasure of the heart, by thepleasure of the eye. Certainly virtue is like preciousodors, most fragrant when they are incensed, orcrushed: for prosperity doth best discover vice, butadversity doth best discover virtue.
Of SimulationAND DISSIMULATION
DISSIMULATION is but a faint kind of pol-icy, or wisdom; for it asketh a strong wit, and a strong heart, to know when to tell truth, andto do it. Therefore it is the weaker sort of politics, that are the great dissemblers.
Tacitus saith, Livia sorted well with the arts ofher husband, and dissimulation of her son; attri-buting arts or policy to Augustus, and dissimula-tion to Tiberius. And again, when Mucianusencourageth Vespasian, to take arms against Vitel-lius, he saith, We rise not against the piercingjudgment of Augustus, nor the extreme caution orcloseness of Tiberius. These properties, of arts orpolicy, and dissimulation or closeness, are indeedhabits and faculties several, and to be distin-guished. For if a man have that penetration ofjudgment, as he can discern what things are tobe laid open, and what to be secreted, and what tobe showed at half lights, and to whom and when(which indeed are arts of state, and arts of life, asTacitus well calleth them), to him, a habit of dis-simulation is a hinderance and a poorness. But ifa man cannot obtain to that judgment, then it isleft to bim generally, to be close, and a dissembler. For where a man cannot choose, or vary in parti-culars, there it is good to take the safest, and wari-est way, in general; like the going softly, by onethat cannot well see. Certainly the ablest menthat ever were, have had all an openness, andfrankness, of dealing; and a name of certainty andveracity; but then they were like horses wellmanaged; for they could tell passing well, when tostop or turn; and at such times, when they thoughtthe case indeed required dissimulation, if thenthey used it, it came to pass that the former opin-ion, spread abroad, of their good faith and clear-ness of dealing, made them almost invisible.
There be three degrees of this hiding and veil-ing of a man's self. The first, closeness, reservation, and secrecy; when a man leaveth himself withoutobservation, or without hold to be taken, what heis. The second, dissimulation, in the negative;when a man lets fall signs and arguments, that heis not, that he is. And the third, simulation, in theaffirmative; when a man industriously and ex-pressly feigns and pretends to be, that he is not.
For the first of these, secrecy; it is indeed thevirtue of a confessor. And assuredly, the secretman heareth many confessions. For who will openhimself, to a blab or a babbler? But if a man bethought secret, it inviteth discovery; as the moreclose air sucketh in the more open; and as in con-fession, the revealing is not for worldly use, but forthe ease of a man's heart, so secret men come tothe knowledge of many things in that kind; whilemen rather discharge their minds, than imparttheir minds. In few words, mysteries are due tosecrecy. Besides (to say truth) nakedness is un-comely, as well in mind as body; and it addeth nosmall reverence, to men's manners and actions, ifthey be not altogether open. As for talkers andfutile persons, they are commonly vain and credu-lous withal. For he that talketh what he knoweth, will also talk what he knoweth not. Therefore set itdown, that an habit of secrecy, is both politic andmoral. And in this part, it is good that a man's facegive his tongue leave to speak. For the discovery ofa man' s self, by the tracts of his countenance, is agreat weakness and betraying; by how much it ismany times more marked, and believed, than aman's words.
For the second, which is dissimulation; it fol-loweth many times upon secrecy, by a necessity;so that he that will be secret, must be a dissemblerin some degree. For men are too cunning, to suffera man to keep an indifferent carriage betweenboth, and to be secret, without swaying the bal-ance on either side. They will so beset a man withquestions, and draw him on, and pick it out of him, that, without an absurd silence, he must show aninclination one way; or if he do not, they willgather as much by his silence, as by his speech. Asfor equivocations, or oraculous speeches, they can-not hold out long. So that no man can be secret, except he give himself a little scope of dissimula-tion; which is, as it were, but the skirts or train ofsecrecy.
But for the third degree, which is simulation, and false profession; that I hold more culpable, and less politic; except it be in great and rare mat-ters. And therefore a general custom of simulation(which is this last degree) is a vice, using either ofa natural falseness or fearfulness, or of a mind thathath some main faults, which because a man mustneeds disguise, it maketh him practise simulationin other things, lest his hand should be out of use.
The great advantages of simulation and dissi-mulation are three. First, to lay asleep opposition, and to surprise. For where a man's intentions arepublished, it is an alarum, to call up all that areagainst them. The second is, to reserve to a man'sself a fair retreat. For if a man engage himself bya manifest declaration, he must go through or takea fall. The third is, the better to discover the mindof another. For to him that opens himself, menwill hardly show themselves adverse; but will fairlet him go on, and turn their freedom of speech, tofreedom of thought. And therefore it is a goodshrewd proverb of the Spaniard, Tell a lie and finda troth. As if there were no way of discovery, butby simulation. There be also three disadvantages, to set it even. The first, that simulation and dissi-mulation commonly carry with them a show offearfulness, which in any business, doth spoil thefeathers, of round flying up to the mark. The sec-ond, that it puzzleth and perplexeth the conceitsof many, that perhaps would otherwise co-operatewith him; and makes a man walk almost alone, tohis own ends. The third and greatest is, that itdepriveth a man of one of the most principal in-struments for action; which is trust and belief. The best composition and temperature, is to haveopenness in fame and opinion; secrecy in habit;dissimulation in seasonable use; and a power tofeign, if there be no remedy.
Of Parents
AND CHILDREN
THE joys of parents are secret; and so are theirgriefs and fears. They cannot utter the one;nor they will not utter the other. Children sweetenlabors; but they make misfortunes more bitter. They increase the cares of life; but they mitigatethe remembrance of death. The perpetuity bygeneration is common to beasts; but memory, merit, and noble works, are proper to men. Andsurely a man shall see the noblest works and foun-dations have proceeded from childless men; whichhave sought to express the images of their minds, where those of their bodies have failed. So the careof posterity is most in them, that have no posterity. They that are the first raisers of their houses, aremost indulgent towards their children; beholdingthem as the continuance, not only of their kind, butof their work; and so both children and creatures.
The difference in affection, of parents towardstheir several children, is many times unequal; andsometimes unworthy; especially in the mothers;as Solomon saith, A wise son rejoiceth the father, but an ungracious son shames the mother. A manshall see, where there is a house full of children, one or two of the eldest respected, and the young-est made wantons; but in the midst, some thatare as it were forgotten, who many times, never-theless, prove the best. The illiberality of parents, in allowance towards their children, is an harmfulerror; makes them base; acquaints them withshifts; makes them sort with mean company; andmakes them surfeit more when they come toplenty. And therefore the proof is best, when menkeep their authority towards the children, but nottheir purse. Men have a foolish manner (both par-ents and schoolmasters and servants) in creatingand breeding an emulation between brothers, dur-ing childhood, which many times sorteth to dis-cord when they are men, and disturbeth families. The Italians make little difference between chil-dren, and nephews or near kinsfolks; but so theybe of the lump, they care not though they pass notthrough their own body. And, to say truth, innature it is much a like matter; insomuch that wesee a nephew sometimes resembleth an uncle, ora kinsman, more than his own parent; as the bloodhappens. Let parents choose betimes, the vocationsand courses they mean their children should take;for then they are most flexible; and let them nottoo much apply themselves to the disposition oftheir children, as thinking they will take best tothat, which they have most mind to. It is true, thatif the affection or aptness of the children be extra-ordinary, then it is good not to cross it; but gener-ally the precept is good, optimum elige, suave etfacile illud faciet consuetudo. Younger brothersare commonly fortunate, but seldom or neverwhere the elder are disinherited.
Of Marriage
AND SINGLE LIFE
HE THAT hath wife and children hath givenhostages to fortune; for they are impedi-ments to great enterprises, either of virtue or mis-chief. Certainly the best works, and of greatestmerit for the public, have proceeded from the un-married or childless men; which both in affectionand means, have married and endowed the public. Yet it were great reason that those that have chil-dren, should have greatest care of future times;unto which they know they must transmit theirdearest pledges. Some there are, who though theylead a single life, yet their thoughts do end withthemselves, and account future times imperti-nences. Nay, there are some other, that accountwife and children, but as bills of charges. Naymore, there are some foolish rich covetous men, that take a pride, in having no children, becausethey may be thought so much the richer. For per-haps they have heard some talk, Such an one is agreat rich man, and another except to it, Yea, buthe hath a great charge of children; as if it were anabatement to his riches. But the most ordinarycause of a single life, is liberty, especially in certainself-pleasing and humorous minds, which are sosensible of every restraint, as they will go near tothink their girdles and garters, to be bonds andshackles. Unmarried men are best friends, bestmasters, best servants; but not always best sub-jects; for they are light to run away; and almostall fugitives, are of that condition. A single lifedoth well with churchmen; for charity will hardlywater the ground, where it must first fill a pool. Itis indifferent for judges and magistrates; for ifthey be facile and corrupt, you shall have a ser-vant, five times worse than a wife. For soldiers, Ifind the generals commonly in their hortatives, put men in mind of their wives and children; andI think the despising of marriage amongst theTurks, maketh the vulgar soldier more base. Cer-tainly wife and children are a kind of disciplineof humanity; and single men, though they maybe many times more charitable, because theirmeans are less exhaust, yet, on the other side, theyare more cruel and hardhearted (good to makesevere inquisitors), because their tenderness is notso oft called upon. Grave natures, led by custom, and therefore constant, are commonly loving hus-bands, as was said of Ulysses, vetulam suam praetu-lit immortalitati. Chaste women are often proudand froward, as presuming upon the merit of theirchastity. It is one of the best bonds, both of chastityand obedience, in the wife, if she think her hus-band wise; which she will never do, if she find himjealous. Wives are young men's mistresses; com-panions for middle age; and old men's nurses. Soas a man may have a quarrel to marry, when hewill. But yet he was reputed one of the wise men, that made answer to the question, when a manshould marry, - A young man not yet, an elderman not at all. It is often seen that bad husbands, have very good wives; whether it be, that it raiseththe price of their husband's kindness, when itcomes; or that the wives take a pride in theirpatience. But this never fails, if the bad husbandswere of their own choosing, against their friends'consent; for then they will be sure to make goodtheir own folly.
Of Envy
THERE be none of the affections, which havebeen noted to fascinate or bewitch, but loveand envy. They both have vehement wishes; theyframe themselves readily into imaginations andsuggestions; and they come easily into the eye, especially upon the present of the objects; whichare the points that conduce to fascination, if anysuch thing there be. We see likewise, the Scripturecalleth envy an evil eye; and the astrologers, callthe evil influences of the stars, evil aspects; so thatstill there seemeth to be acknowledged, in the actof envy, an ejaculation or irradiation of the eye. Nay, some have been so curious, as to note, thatthe times when the stroke or percussion of an envi-ous eye doth most hurt, are when the party enviedis beheld in glory or triumph; for that sets an edgeupon envy: and besides, at such times the spiritsof the person envied, do come forth most into theoutward parts, and so meet the blow.
But leaving these curiosities (though not un-worthy to be thought on, in fit place), we willhandle, what persons are apt to envy others; whatpersons are most subject to be envied themselves;and what is the difference between public andprivate envy.
A man that hath no virtue in himself, ever en-vieth virtue in others. For men's minds, will eitherfeed upon their own good, or upon others' evil; andwho wanteth the one, will prey upon the other;and whoso is out of hope, to attain to another'svirtue, will seek to come at even hand, by depress-ing another's fortune.
A man that is busy, and inquisitive, is com-monly envious. For to know much of other men'smatters, cannot be because all that ado may con-cern his own estate; therefore it must needs be, that he taketh a kind of play-pleasure, in lookingupon the fortunes of others. Neither can he, thatmindeth but his own business, find much matterfor envy. For envy is a gadding passion, and walk-eth the streets, and doth not keep home: Non estcuriosus, quin idem sit malevolus.
Men of noble birth, are noted to be envioustowards new men, when they rise. For the distanceis altered, and it is like a deceit of the eye, thatwhen others come on, they think themselves, goback.
Deformed persons, and eunuchs, and old men, and bastards, are envious. For he that cannot pos-sibly mend his own case, will do what he can, toimpair another's; except these defects light upona very brave, and heroical nature, which thinkethto make his natural wants part of his honor; in thatit should be said, that an eunuch, or a lame man, did such great matters; affecting the honor of amiracle; as it was in Narses the eunuch, and Agesi-laus and Tamberlanes, that were lame men.
The same is the case of men, that rise after ca-lamities and misfortunes. For they are as menfallen out with the times; and think other men'sharms, a redemption of their own sufferings.
They that desire to excel in too many matters, out of levity and vain glory, are ever envious. Forthey cannot want work; it being impossible, butmany, in some one of those things, should surpassthem. Which was the character of Adrian the Em-peror; that mortally envied poets, and painters, and artificers, in works wherein he had a vein toexcel.
Lastly, near kinsfolks, and fellows in office, andthose that have been bred together, are more aptto envy their equals, when they are raised. For itdoth upbraid unto them their own fortunes, andpointeth at them, and cometh oftener into theirremembrance, and incurreth likewise more intothe note of others; and envy ever redoubleth fromspeech and fame. Cain's envy was the more vileand malignant, towards his brother Abel, becausewhen his sacrifice was better accepted, there wasno body to look on. Thus much for those, that areapt to envy.
Concerning those that are more or less subjectto envy: First, persons of eminent virtue, whenthey are advanced, are less envied. For their for-tune seemeth, but due unto them; and no manenvieth the payment of a debt, but rewards andliberality rather. Again, envy is ever joined withthe comparing of a man's self; and where there isno comparison, no envy; and therefore kings arenot envied, but by kings. Nevertheless it is to benoted, that unworthy persons are most envied, attheir first coming in, and afterwards overcome itbetter; whereas contrariwise, persons of worthand merit are most envied, when their fortunecontinueth long. For by that time, though theirvirtue be the same, yet it hath not the same lustre;for fresh men grow up that darken it.
Persons of noble blood, are less envied in theirrising. For it seemeth but right done to their birth. Besides, there seemeth not much added to theirfortune; and envy is as the sunbeams, that beathotter upon a bank, or steep rising ground, thanupon a flat. And for the same reason, those that areadvanced by degrees, are less envied than thosethat are advanced suddenly and per saltum.
Those that have joined with their honor greattravels, cares, or perils, are less subject to envy. For men think that they earn their honors hardly, and pity them sometimes; and pity ever healethenvy. Wherefore you shall observe, that the moredeep and sober sort of politic persons, in theirgreataess, are ever bemoaning themselves, whata life they lead; chanting a quanta patimur! Notthat they feel it so, but only to abate the edge ofenvy. But this is to be understood, of business thatis laid upon men, and not such, as they call untothemselves. For nothing increaseth envy more, than an unnecessary and ambitious engrossing ofbusiness. And nothing doth extinguish envy more, than for a great person to preserve all other infe-rior officers, in their full lights and pre-eminencesof their places. For by that means, there be somany screens between him and envy.
Above all, those are most subject to envy, whichcarry the greatness of their fortunes, in an insolentand proud manner; being never well, but whilethey are showing how great they are, either byoutward pomp, or by triumphing over all opposi-tion or competition; whereas wise men will ratherdo sacrifice to envy, in suffering themselves some-times of purpose to be crossed, and overborne inthings that do not much concern them. Notwith-standing, so much is true, that the carriage ofgreatness, in a plain and open manner (so it bewithout arrogancy and vain glory) doth draw lessenvy, than if it be in a more crafty and cunningfashion. For in that course, a man doth but dis-avow fortune; and seemeth to be conscious of hisown want in worth; and doth but teach others, toenvy him.
Lastly, to conclude this part; as we said in thebeginning, that the act of envy had somewhat init of witchcraft, so there is no other cure of envy, but the cure of witchcraft; and that is, to removethe lot (as they call it) and to lay it upon another. For which purpose, the wiser sort of great persons, bring in ever upon the stage somebody upon whomto derive the envy, that would come upon them-selves; sometimes upon ministers and servants;sometimes upon colleagues and associates; and thelike; and for that turn there are never wanting, some persons of violent and undertaking natures, who, so they may have power and business, willtake it at any cost.
Now, to speak of public envy. There is yet somegood in public envy, whereas in private, there isnone. For public envy, is as an ostracism, thateclipseth men, when they grow too great. Andtherefore it is a bridle also to great ones, to keepthem within bounds.
This envy, being in the Latin word invidia, goeth in the modern language, by the name ofdiscontentment; of which we shall speak, in hand-ling sedition. It is a disease, in a state, like to infec-tion. For as infection spreadeth upon that which issound, and tainteth it; so when envy is gotten onceinto a state, it traduceth even the best actionsthereof, and turneth them into an ill odor. Andtherefore there is little won, by intermingling ofplausible actions. For that doth argue but a weak-ness, and fear of envy, which hurteth so much themore, as it is likewise usual in infections; whichif you fear them, you call them upon you.
This public envy, seemeth to beat chiefly uponprincipal officers or ministers, rather than uponkings, and estates themselves. But this is a surerule, that if the envy upon the minister be great, when the cause of it in him is small; or if the envybe general, in a manner upon all the ministers ofan estate; then the envy (though hidden) is trulyupon the state itself. And so much of public envyor discontentment, and the difference thereof fromprivate envy, which was handled in the first place.
We will add this in general, touching the affec-tion of envy; that of all other affections, it is themost importune and continual. For of other affec-tions, there is occasion given, but now and then;and therefore it was well said, Invidia festos diesnon agit: for it is ever working upon some or other. And it is also noted, that love and envy do make aman pine, which other affections do not, becausethey are not so continual. It is also the vilest affec-tion, and the most depraved; for which cause itis the proper attribute of the devil, who is called, the envious man, that soweth tares amongst thewheat by night; as it always cometh to pass, thatenvy worketh subtilly, and in the dark, and to theprejudice of good things, such as is the wheat.
Of Love
THE stage is more beholding to love, than thelife of man. For as to the stage, love is evermatter of comedies, and now and then of tragedies;but in life it doth much mischief; sometimes like asiren, sometimes like a fury. You may observe, thatamongst all the great and worthy persons (whereofthe memory remaineth, either ancient or recent)there is not one, that hath been transported tothe mad degree of love: which shows that greatspirits, and great business, do keep out this weakpassion. You must except, nevertheless, MarcusAntonius, the half partner of the empire of Rome, and Appius Claudius, the decemvir and lawgiver;whereof the former was indeed a voluptuous man, and inordinate; but the latter was an austere andwise man: and therefore it seems (though rarely)that love can find entrance, not only into an openheart, but also into a heart well fortified, if watchbe not well kept. It is a poor saying of Epicurus, Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus; as ifman, made for the contemplation of heaven, andall noble objects, should do nothing but kneel be-fore a little idol, and make himself a subject, though not of the mouth (as beasts are), yet of theeye; which was given him for higher purposes. Itis a strange thing, to note the excess of this passion, and how it braves the nature, and value of things, by this; that the speaking in a perpetual hyper-bole, is comely in nothing but in love. Neither is itmerely in the phrase; for whereas it hath beenwell said, that the arch-flatterer, with whom allthe petty flatterers have intelligence, is a man'sself; certainly the lover is more. For there wasnever proud man thought so absurdly well of him-self, as the lover doth of the person loved; andtherefore it was well said, That it is impossible tolove, and to be wise. Neither doth this weaknessappear to others only, and not to the party loved;but to the loved most of all, except the love be reci-proque. For it is a true rule, that love is ever re-warded, either with the reciproque, or with aninward and secret contempt. By how much themore, men ought to beware of this passion, whichloseth not only other things, but itself! As for theother losses, the poet's relation doth well figurethem: that he that preferred Helena, quitted thegifts of Juno and Pallas. For whosoever esteemethtoo much of amorous affection, quitteth both richesand wisdom. This passion hath his floods, in verytimes of weakness; which are great prosperity, andgreat adversity; though this latter hath been lessobserved: both which times kindle love, and makeit more fervent, and therefore show it to be thechild of folly. They do best, who if they cannot butadmit love, yet make it keep quarters; and sever itwholly from their serious affairs, and actions, oflife; for if it check once with business, it troublethmen's fortunes, and maketh men, that they can noways be true to their own ends. I know not how, but martial men are given to love: I think, it is butas they are given to wine; for perils commonly askto be paid in pleasures. There is in man's nature, asecret inclination and motion, towards love ofothers, which if it be not spent upon some one or afew, doth naturally spread itself towards many, and maketh men become humane and charitable;as it is seen sometime in friars. Nuptial love makethmankind; friendly love perfecteth it; but wantonlove corrupteth, and embaseth it.
Of Great Place
MEN in great place are thrice servants: ser-vants of the sovereign or state; servants offame; and servants of business. So as they have nofreedom; neither in their persons, nor in their ac-tions, nor in their times. It is a strange desire, toseek power and to lose liberty: or to seek powerover others, and to lose power over a man's self. The rising unto place is laborious; and by pains, men come to greater pains; and it is sometimesbase; and by indignities, men come to dignities. The standing is slippery, and the regress is eithera downfall, or at least an eclipse, which is a melan-choly thing. Cum non sis qui fueris, non esse curvelis vivere. Nay, retire men cannot when theywould, neither will they, when it were reason; butare impatient of privateness, even in age and sick-ness, which require the shadow; like old towns-men, that will be still sitting at their street door, though thereby they offer age to scom. Certainlygreat persons had need to borrow other men'sopinions, to think themselves happy; for if theyjudge by their own feeling, they cannot find it; butif they think with themselves, what other menthink of them, and that other men would fain be, as they are, then they are happy, as it were, byreport; when perhaps they find the contrarywithin. For they are the first, that find their owngriefs, though they be the last, that find theirown faults. Certainly men in great fortunes arestrangers to themselves, and while they are in thepuzzle of business, they have no time to tend theirhealth, either of body or mind. Illi mors gravisincubat, qui notus nimis omnibus, ignotus moritursibi. In place, there is license to do good, and evil;whereof the latter is a curse: for in evil, the bestcondition is not to win; the second, not to can. Butpower to do good, is the true and lawful end ofaspiring. For good thoughts (though God acceptthem) yet, towards men, are little better than gooddreams, except they be put in act; and that cannotbe, without power and place, as the vantage, andcommanding ground. Merit and good works, isthe end of man's motion; and conscience of thesame is the accomplishment of man's rest. For if aman can be partaker of God's theatre, he shall like-wise be partaker of God's rest. Et conversus Deus, ut aspiceret opera quae fecerunt manus suae, viditquod omnia essent bona nimis; and then the sab-bath. In the discharge of thy place, set before theethe best examples; for imitation is a globe of pre-cepts. And after a time, set before thee thine ownexample; and examine thyself strictly, whetherthou didst not best at first. Neglect not also theexamples, of those that have carried themselvesill, in the same place; not to set off thyself, by tax-ing their memory, but to direct thyself, what toavoid. Reform therefore, without bravery, or scan-dal of former times and persons; but yet set it downto thyself, as well to create good precedents, as tofollow them. Reduce things to the first institution, and observe wherein, and how, they have degen-erate; but yet ask counsel of both times; of theancient time, what is best; and of the latter time, what is fittest. Seek to make thy course regular, that men may know beforehand, what they mayexpect; but be not too positive and peremptory;and express thyself well, when thou digressestfrom thy rule. Preserve the right of thy place; butstir not questions of jurisdiction; and rather as-sume thy right, in silence and de facto, than voiceit with claims, and challenges. Preserve likewisethe rights of inferior places; and think it morehonor, to direct in chief, than to be busy in all. Embrace and invite helps, and advices, touchingthe execution of thy place; and do not drive awaysuch, as bring thee information, as meddlers; butaccept of them in good part. The vices of authorityare chiefly four: delays, corruption, roughness, and facility. For delays: give easy access; keeptimes appointed; go through with that which is inhand, and interlace not business, but of necessity. For corruption: do not only bind thine own hands, or thy servants' hands, from taking, but bind thehands of suitors also, from offering. For integrityused doth the one; but integrity professed, andwith a manifest detestation of bribery, doth theother. And avoid not only the fault, but the sus-picion. Whosoever is found variable, and changethmanifestly without manifest cause, giveth sus-picion of corruption. Therefore always, when thouchangest thine opinion or course, profess it plainly, and declare it, together with the reasons that movethee to change; and do not think to steal it. Aservant or a favorite, if he be inward, and noother apparent cause of esteem, is commonlythought, but a by-way to close corruption. Forroughness: it is a needless cause of discontent:severity breedeth fear, but roughness breedethhate. Even reproofs from authority, ought to begrave, and not taunting. As for facility: it is worsethan bribery. For bribes come but now and then;but if importunity, or idle respects, lead a man, heshall never be without. As Solomon saith, To re-spect persons is not good; for such a man willtransgress for a piece of bread. It is most true, thatwas anciently spoken, A place showeth the man. And it showeth some to the better, and some to theworse. Omnium consensu capax imperii, nisi im-perasset, saith Tacitus of Galba; but of Vespasianhe saith, Solus imperantium, Vespasianus mutatusin melius; though the one was meant of sufficiency, the other of manners, and affection. It is an assuredsign of a worthy and generous spirit, whom honoramends. For honor is, or should be, the place ofvirtue; and as in nature, things move violently totheir place, and calmly in their place, so virtue inambition is violent, in authority settled and calm. All rising to great place is by a winding star; andif there be factions, it is good to side a man's self, whilst he is in the rising, and to balance himselfwhen he is placed. Use the memory of thy prede-cessor, fairly and tenderly; for if thou dost not, it isa debt will sure be paid when thou art gone. Ifthou have colleagues, respect them, and rather callthem, when they look not for it, than excludethem, when they have reason to look to be called. Be not too sensible, or too remembering, of thyplace in conversation, and private answers tosuitors; but let it rather be said, When he sits inplace, he is another man.
Of Boldness
IT IS a trivial grammar-school text, but yetworthy a wise man's consideration. Questionwas asked of Demosthenes, what was the chiefpart of an orator? he answered, action; what next?action; what next again? action. He said it, thatknew it best, and had, by nature, himself no ad-vantage in that he commended. A strange thing, that that part of an orator, which is but superficial, and rather the virtue of a player, should be placedso high, above those other noble parts, of invention, elocution, and the rest; nay, almost alone, as if itwere all in all. But the reason is plain. There is inhuman nature generally, more of the fool than ofthe wise; and therefore those faculties, by whichthe foolish part of men's minds is taken, are mostpotent. Wonderful like is the case of boldness incivil business: what first? boldness; what secondand third? boldness. And yet boldness is a child ofignorance and baseness, far inferior to other parts. But nevertheless it doth fascinate, and bind handand foot, those that are either shallow in judg-ment, or weak in courage, which are the greatestpart; yea and prevaileth with wise men at weaktimes. Therefore we see it hath done wonders, inpopular states; but with senates, and princes less;and more ever upon the first entrance of bold per-sons into action, than soon after; for boldness is anill keeper of promise. Surely, as there are mounte-banks for the natural body, so are there mounte-banks for the politic body; men that undertakegreat cures, and perhaps have been lucky, in twoor three experiments, but want the grounds ofscience, and therefore cannot hold out. Nay, youshall see a bold fellow many times do Mahomet'smiracle. Mahomet made the people believe thathe would call an hill to him, and from the top of itoffer up his prayers, for the observers of his law. The people assembled; Mahomet called the hill tocome to him, again and again; and when the hillstood still, he was never a whit abashed, but said, If the hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahometwill go to the hill. So these men, when they havepromised great matters, and failed most shame-fully, yet (if they have the perfection of boldness)they will but slight it over, and make a turn, andno more ado. Certainly to men of great judgment, bold persons are a sport to behold; nay, and to thevulgar also, boldness has somewhat of the ridicu-lous. For if absurdity be the subject of laughter, doubt you not but great boldness is seldom withoutsome absurdity. Especially it is a sport to see, whena bold fellow is out of countenance; for that putshis face into a most shrunken, and wooden pos-ture; as needs it must; for in bashfulness, the spiritsdo a little go and come; but with bold men, uponlike occasion, they stand at a stay; like a stale atchess, where it is no mate, but yet the game cannotstir. But this last were fitter for a satire than for aserious observation. This is well to be weighed;that boldness is ever blind; for it seeth not danger, and inconveniences. Therefore it is ill in counsel, good in execution; so that the right use of bold per-sons is, that they never command in chief, but beseconds, and under the direction of others. For incounsel, it is good to see dangers; and in execution, not to see them, except they be very great.
Of Goodness& GOODNESS OF NATURE
I TAKE goodness in this sense, the affecting ofthe weal of men, which is that the Grecianscall philanthropia; and the word humanity (asit is used) is a little too light to express it. Good-ness I call the habit, and goodness of nature, theinclination. This of all virtues, and dignities of themind, is the greatest; being the character of theDeity: and without it, man is a busy, mischievous, wretched thing; no better than a kind of vermin. Goodness answers to the theological virtue, char-ity, and admits no excess, but error. The desire ofpower in excess, caused the angels to fall; the desireof knowledge in excess, caused man to fall: but incharity there is no excess; neither can angel, norman, come in dan ger by it. The inclination to good-ness, is imprinted deeply in the nature of man; in-somuch, that if it issue not towards men, it willtake unto other living creatures; as it is seen in theTurks, a cruel people, who nevertheless are kindto beasts, and give alms, to dogs and birds; inso-much, as Busbechius reporteth, a Christian boy, inConstantinople, had like to have been stoned, forgagging in a waggishness a long-billed fowl. Errors indeed in this virtue of goodness, or charity, may be committed. The Italians have an ungra-cious proverb, Tanto buon che val niente: sogood, that he is good for nothing. And one ofthe doctors of Italy, Nicholas Machiavel, hadthe confidence to put in writing, almost in plainterms, That the Christian faith, had given up goodmen, in prey to those that are tyrannical and un-just. Which he spake, because indeed there wasnever law, or sect, or opinion, did so much mag-nify goodness, as the Christian religion doth. Therefore, to avoid the scandal and the dangerboth, it is good, to take knowledge of the errors ofan habit so excellent. Seek the good of other men, but be not in bondage to their faces or fancies; forthat is but facility, or softness; which taketh anhonest mind prisoner. Neither give thou AEsop'scock a gem, who would be better pleased, and hap-pier, if he had had a barley-corn. The example ofGod, teacheth the lesson truly: He sendeth his rain, and maketh his sun to shine, upon the just andunjust; but he doth not rain wealth, nor shinehonor and virtues, upon men equally. Commonbenefits, are to be communicate with all; but pe-culiar benefits, with choice. And beware how inmaking the portraiture, thou breakest the pattern. For divinity, maketh the love of ourselves the pat-tern; the love of our neighbors, but the portraiture. Sell all thou hast, and give it to the poor, and fol-low me: but, sell not all thou hast, except thoucome and follow me; that is, except thou have avocation, wherein thou mayest do as much good, with little means as with great; for otherwise, infeeding the streams, thou driest the fountain. Neither is there only a habit of goodness, directedby right reason; but there is in some men, even innature, a disposition towards it; as on the otherside, there is a natural malignity. For there be, that in their nature do not affect the good of others. The lighter sort of malignity, turneth but to acrassness, or frowardness, or aptness to oppose, ordifficulties, or the like; but the deeper sort, to envyand mere mischief. Such men, in other men's ca-lamities, are, as it were, in season, and are ever onthe loading part: not so good as the dogs, that lickedLazarus' sores; but like flies, that are still buzzingupon any thing that is raw; misanthropi, thatmake it their practice, to bring men to the bough, and yet never a tree for the purpose in their gar-dens, as Timon had. Such dispositions, are the veryerrors of human nature; and yet they are the fittesttimber, to make great politics of; like to knee tim-ber, that is good for ships, that are ordained to betossed; but not for building houses, that shall standfirm. The parts and signs of goodness, are many. Ifa man be gracious and courteous to strangers, itshows he is a citizen of the world, and that his heartis no island, cut off from other lands, but a conti-nent, that joins to them. If he be compassionatetowards the afflictions of others, it shows that hisheart is like the noble tree, that is wounded itself, when it gives the balm. If he easily pardons, andremits offences, it shows that his mind is plantedabove injuries; so that he cannot be shot. If he bethankful for small benefits, it shows that he weighsmen's minds, and not their trash. But above all, ifhe have St. Paul's perfection, that he would wishto be anathema from Christ, for the salvation ofhis brethren, it shows much of a divine nature, anda kind of conformity with Christ himself
Of Nobility
WE WILL speak of nobility, first as a portionof an estate, then as a condition of particu-lar persons. A monarchy, where there is no nobil-ity at all, is ever a pure and absolute tyranny; asthat of the Turks. For nobility attempers sover-eignty, and draws the eyes of the people, somewhataside from the line royal. But for democracies, they need it not; and they are commonly morequiet, and less subject to sedition, than where thereare stirps of nobles. For men's eyes are upon thebusiness, and not upon the persons; or if upon thepersons, it is for the business' sake, as fittest, andnot for flags and pedigree. We see the Switzers lastwell, notwithstanding their diversity of religion, and of cantons. For utility is their bond, and notrespects. The united provinces of the Low Coun-tries, in their government, excel; for where thereis an equality, the consultations are more indif-ferent, and the payments and tributes, morecheerful. A great and potent nobility, addethmajesty to a monarch, but diminisheth power;and putteth life and spirit into the people, butpresseth their fortune. It is well, when nobles arenot too great for sovereignty nor for justice; andyet maintained in that height, as the insolency ofinferiors may be broken upon them, before it comeon too fast upon the majesty of kings. A numerousnobility causeth poverty, and inconvenience in astate; for it is a surcharge of expense; and besides, it being of necessity, that many of the nobility fall, in time, to be weak in fortune, it maketh a kind ofdisproportion, between honor and means.
As for nobility in particular persons; it is a rev-erend thing, to see an ancient castle or building, not in decay; or to see a fair timber tree, sound andperfect. How much more, to behold an ancientnoble family, which has stood against the wavesand weathers of time! For new nobility is but theact of power, but ancient nobility is the act of time. Those that are first raised to nobility, are com-monly more virtuous, but less innocent, than theirdescendants; for there is rarely any rising, but bya commixture of good and evil arts. But it is reason, the memory of their virtues remain to their pos-terity, and their faults die with themselves. Nobil-ity of birth commonly abateth industry; and hethat is not industrious, envieth him that is. Besides, noble persons cannot go much higher; and he thatstandeth at a stay, when others rise, can hardlyavoid motions of envy. On the other side, nobil-ity extinguisheth the passive envy from others, towards them; because they are in possession ofhonor. Certainly, kings that have able men oftheir nobility, shall find ease in employing them, and a better slide into their business; for peoplenaturally bend to them, as born in some sort tocommand.
Of Seditions
AND TROUBLES
SHEPHERDS of people, had need know thecalendars of tempests in state; which are com-monly greatest, when things grow to equality; asnatural tempests are greatest about the Equinoc-tia. And as there are certain hollow blasts of wind, and secret swellings of seas before a tempest, soare there in states:
--Ille etiam caecos instare tumultusSaepe monet, fraudesque et operta tunescere bella.
Libels and licentious discourses against the state, when they are frequent and open; and in like sort, false news often running up and down, to the dis-advantage of the state, and hastily embraced; areamongst the signs of troubles. Virgil, giving thepedigree of Fame, saith, she was sister to the Giants:
Illam Terra parens, irra irritata deorum, Extremam (ut perhibent) Coeo Enceladoque sororemProgenuit. -
As if fames were the relics of seditions past; butthey are no less, indeed, the preludes of seditions tocome. Howsoever he noteth it right, that seditioustumults, and seditious fames, differ no more butas brother and sister, masculine and feminine; es-pecially if it come to that, that the best actions ofa state, and the most plausible, and which oughtto give greatest contentment, are taken in ill sense, and traduced: for that shows the envy great, asTacitus saith; conflata magna invidia, seu beneseu male gesta premunt. Neither doth it follow, that because these fames are a sign of troubles, thatthe suppressing of them with too much severity, should be a remedy of troubles. For the despisingof them, many times checks them best; and thegoing about to stop them, doth but make a wonderlong-lived. Also that kind of obedience, whichTacitus speaketh of, is to be held suspected: Erantin officio, sed tamen qui mallent mandata impe-rantium interpretari quam exequi; disputing, ex-cusing, cavilling upon mandates and directions, isa kind of shaking off the yoke, and assay of dis-obedience; especially if in those disputings, theywhich are for the direction, speak fearfully andtenderly, and those that are against it, audaciously.
Also, as Machiavel noteth well, when princes, that ought to be common parents, make them-selves as a party, and lean to a side, it is as a boat, that is overthrown by uneven weight on the oneside; as was well seen, in the time of Henry theThird of France; for first, himself entered leaguefor the extirpation of the Protestants; and pres-ently after, the same league was turned upon him-self. For when the authority of princes, is madebut an accessory to a cause, and that there be otherbands, that tie faster than the band of sovereignty, kings begin to be put almost out of possession.
Also, when discords, and quarrels, and factionsare carried openly and audaciously, it is a sign thereverence of government is lost. For the motionsof the greatest persons in a government, ought tobe as the motions of the planets under primummobile; according to the old opinion: which is, that every of them, is carried swiftly by thehighest motion, and softly in their own motion. And therefore, when great ones in their ownparticular motion, move violently, and, as Tacitusexpresseth it well, liberius quam ut imperan-tium meminissent; it is a sign the orbs are outof frame. For reverence is that, wherewith princesare girt from God; who threateneth the dissolvingthereof; Solvam cingula regum.
So when any of the four pillars of government, are mainly shaken, or weakened (which are relig-ion, justice, counsel, and treasure), men had needto pray for fair weather. But let us pass from thispart of predictions (concerning which, neverthe-less, more light may be taken from that whichfolloweth); and let us speak first, of the materialsof seditions; then of the motives of them; andthirdly of the remedies.
Concerning the materials of seditions. It is athing well to be considered; for the surest way toprevent seditions (if the times do bear it) is to takeaway the matter of them. For if there be fuel pre-pared, it is hard to tell, whence the spark shallcome, that shall set it on fire. The matter of sedi-tions is of two kinds: much poverty, and much dis-contentment. It is certain, so many overthrownestates, so many votes for troubles. Lucan notethwell the state of Rome before the Civil War, Hinc usura vorax, rapidumque in tempore foenus, Hinc concussa fides, et multis utile bellum.
This same multis utile bellum, is an assured andinfallible sign, of a state disposed to seditions andtroubles. And if this poverty and broken estate inthe better sort, be joined with a want and necessityin the mean people, the danger is imminent andgreat. For the rebellions of the belly are the worst. As for discontentments, they are, in the politicbody, like to humors in the natural, which are aptto gather a preternatural heat, and to inflame. And let no prince measure the danger of them bythis, whether they be just or unjust: for that wereto imagine people, to be too reasonable; who dooften spurn at their own good: nor yet by this, whether the griefs whereupon they rise, be in factgreat or small: for they are the most dangerousdiscontentments, where the fear is greater thanthe feeling. Dolendi modus, timendi non item. Besides, in great oppressions, the same things thatprovoke the patience, do withal mate the courage;but in fears it is not so. Neither let any prince, orstate, be secure concerning discontentments, be-cause they have been often, or have been long, andyet no peril hath ensued: for as it is true, that everyvapor or fume doth not turn into a storm; so it isnevertheless true, that storms, though they blowover divers times, yet may fall at last; and, as theSpanish proverb noteth well, The cord breaketh atthe last by the weakest pull.
The causes and motives of seditions are, innova-tion in religion; taxes; alteration of laws and cus-toms; breaking of privileges; general oppression;advancement of unworthy persons; strangers;dearths; disbanded soldiers; factions grown des-perate; and what soever, in offending people, joineth and knitteth them in a common cause.
For the remedies; there may be some generalpreservatives, whereof we will speak: as for thejust cure, it must answer to the particular disease;and so be left to counsel, rather than rule.
The first remedy or prevention is to remove, byall means possible, that material cause of seditionwhereof we spake; which is, want and poverty inthe estate. To which purpose serveth the opening, and well-balancing of trade; the cherishing ofmanufactures; the banishing of idleness; the re-pressing of waste, and excess, by sumptuary laws;the improvement and husbanding of the soil; theregulating of prices of things vendible; the moder-ating of taxes and tributes; and the like. Generally, it is to be foreseen that the population of a king-dom (especially if it be not mown down by wars)do not exceed the stock of the kingdom, whichshould maintain them. Neither is the populationto be reckoned only by number; for a smaller num-ber, that spend more and earn less, do wear out anestate sooner, than a greater number that livelower, and gather more. Therefore the multiply-ing of nobility, and other degrees of quality, in anover proportion to the common people, doth speed-ily bring a state to necessity; and so doth likewisean overgrown clergy; for they bring nothing tothe stock; and in like manner, when more are bredscholars, than preferments can take off .
It is likewise to be remembered, that forasmuchas the increase of any estate must be upon theforeigner (for whatsoever is somewhere gotten, issomewhere lost), there be but three things, whichone nation selleth unto another; the commodity asnature yieldeth it; the manufacture; and the vec-ture, or carriage. So that if these three wheels go, wealth will flow as in a spring tide. And it comethmany times to pass, that materiam superabit opus;that the work and carriage is more worth than thematerial, and enricheth a state more; as is notablyseen in the Low-Countrymen, who have the bestmines above ground, in the world.
Above all things, good policy is to be used, thatthe treasure and moneys, in a state, be not gath-ered into few hands. For otherwise a state mayhave a great stock, and yet starve. And money islike muck, not good except it be spread. This isdone, chiefly by suppressing, or at least keepinga strait hand, upon the devouring trades of usury, ingrossing great pasturages, and the like.
For removing discontentments, or at least thedanger of them; there is in every state (as weknow) two portions of subjects; the noblesse andthe commonalty. When one of these is discontent, the danger is not great; for common people are ofslow motion, if they be not excited by the greatersort; and the greater sort are of small strength, except the multitude be apt, and ready to move ofthemselves. Then is the danger, when the greatersort, do but wait for the troubling of the watersamongst the meaner, that then they may declarethemselves. The poets feign, that the rest of thegods would have bound Jupiter; which he hearingof, by the counsel of Pallas, sent for Briareus, withhis hundred hands, to come in to his aid. An em-blem, no doubt, to show how safe it is for mon-archs, to make sure of the good will of commonpeople. To give moderate liberty for griefs and dis-contentments to evaporate (so it be without toogreat insolency or bravery), is a safe way. For hethat turneth the humors back, and maketh thewound bleed inwards, endangereth malign ulcers, and pernicious imposthumations.
The part of Epimetheus mought well becomePrometheus, in the case of discontentments: forthere is not a better provision against them. Epime-theus, when griefs and evils flew abroad, at lastshut the lid, and kept hope in the bottom of thevessel. Certainly, the politic and artificial nourish-ing, and entertaining of hopes, and carrying menfrom hopes to hopes, is one of the best antidotesagainst the poison of discontentments. And it is acertain sign of a wise government and proceeding, when it can hold men's hearts by hopes, when itcannot by satisfaction; and when it can handlethings, in such manner, as no evil shall appear soperemptory, but that it hath some outlet of hope;which is the less hard to do, because both particu-lar persons and factions, are apt enough to flatterthemselves, or at least to brave that, which theybelieve not.
Also the foresight and prevention, that there beno likely or fit head, whereunto discontented per-sons may resort, and under whom they may join, is a known, but an excellent point of caution. Iunderstand a fit head, to be one that hath great-ness and reputation; that hath confidence withthe discontented party, and upon whom they turntheir eyes; and that is thought discontented, in hisown particular: which kind of persons, are eitherto be won, and reconciled to the state, and that ina fast and true manner; or to be fronted with someother, of the same party, that may oppose them, and so divide the reputation. Generally, the divid-ing and breaking, of all factions and combinationsthat are adverse to the state, and setting them atdistance, or at least distrust, amongst themselves, is not one of the worst remedies. For it is a desper-ate case, if those that hold with the proceeding ofthe state, be full of discord and faction, and thosethat are against it, be entire and united.
I have noted, that some witty and sharpspeeches, which have fallen from princes, havegiven fire to seditions. Caesar did himself infinitehurt in that speech, Sylla nescivit literas, non po-tuit dictare; for it did utterly cut off that hope, which men had entertained, that he would at onetime or other give over his dictatorship. Galba un-did himself by that speech, legi a se militem, nonemi; for it put the soldiers out of hope of the dona-tive. Probus likewise, by that speech, Si vixero, non opus erit amplius Romano imperio militibus;a speech of great despair for the soldiers. Andmany the like. Surely princes had need, in tendermatters and ticklish times, to beware what theysay; especially in these short speeches, which flyabroad like darts, and are thought to be shot out oftheir secret intentions. For as for large discourses, they are flat things, and not so much noted.
Lastly, let princes, against all events, not bewithout some great person, one or rather more, ofmilitary valor, near unto them, for the repressingof seditions in their beginnings. For without that, there useth to be more trepidation in court uponthe first breaking out of troubles, than were fit. And the state runneth the danger of that whichTacitus saith; Atque is habitus animorum fuit, utpessimum facinus auderent pauci, plures vellent, omnes paterentur. But let such military persons beassured, and well reputed of, rather than factiousand popular; holding also good correspondencewith the other great men in the state; or else theremedy, is worse than the disease.
Of Atheism
I HAD rather believe all the fables in the Leg-end, and the Talmud, and the Alcoran, thanthat this universal frame is without a mind. And therefore, God never wrought miracle, toconvince atheism, because his ordinary works con-vince it. It is true, that a little philosophy inclinethman's mind to atheism; but depth in philosophybringeth men's minds about to religion. For whilethe mind of man looketh upon second causes scat-tered, it may sometimes rest in them, and go nofurther; but when it beholdeth the chain of them, confederate and linked together, it must needs flyto Providence and Deity. Nay, even that schoolwhich is most accused of atheism doth most dem-onstrate religion; that is, the school of Leucippusand Democritus and Epicurus. For it is a thousandtimes more credible, that four mutable elements, and one immutable fifth essence, duly and eter-nally placed, need no God, than that an army ofinfinite small portions, or seeds unplaced, shouldhave produced this order and beauty, without adivine marshal. The Scripture saith, The fool hathsaid in his heart, there is no God; it is not said, Thefool hath thought in his heart; so as he rather saithit, by rote to himself, as that he would have, thanthat he can thoroughly believe it, or be persuadedof it. For none deny, there is a God, but those, forwhom it maketh that there were no God. It ap-peareth in nothing more, that atheism is rather inthe lip, than in the heart of man, than by this; thatatheists will ever be talking of that their opinion, as if they fainted in it, within themselves, andwould be glad to be strengthened, by the consentof others. Nay more, you shall have atheists striveto get disciples, as it fareth with other sects. And, which is most of all, you shall have of them, thatwill suffer for atheism, and not recant; whereas ifthey did truly think, that there were no such thingas God, why should they trouble themselves? Epi-curus is charged, that he did but dissemble for hiscredit's sake, when he affirmed there were blessednatures, but such as enjoyed themselves, withouthaving respect to the government of the world. Wherein they say he did temporize; though insecret, he thought there was no God. But certainlyhe is traduced; for his words are noble and divine:Non deos vulgi negare profanum; sed vulgi opini-ones diis applicare profanum. Plato could havesaid no more. And although he had the confidence, to deny the administration, he had not the power, to deny the nature. The Indians of the West, havenames for their particular gods, though they haveno name for God: as if the heathens should havehad the names Jupiter, Apollo, Mars, etc. , but notthe word Deus; which shows that even those bar-barous people have the notion, though they havenot the latitude and extent of it. So that againstatheists, the very savages take part, with the verysubtlest philosophers. The contemplative atheist israre: a Diagoras, a Bion, a Lucian perhaps, andsome others; and yet they seem to be more thanthey are; for that all that impugn a received re-ligion, or superstition, are by the adverse partbranded with the name of atheists. But the greatatheists, indeed are hypocrites; which are everhandling holy things, but without feeling; so asthey must needs be cauterized in the end. Thecauses of atheism are: divisions in religion, if theybe many; for any one main division, addeth zeal toboth sides; but many divisions introduce atheism. Another is, scandal of priests; when it is come tothat which St. Bernard saith, non est jam dicere, ut populus sic sacerdos; quia nec sic populus utsacerdos. A third is, custom of profane scoffing inholy matters; which doth, by little and little, de-face the reverence of religion. And lastly, learnedtimes, specially with peace and prosperity; fortroubles and adversities do more bow men's mindsto religion. They that deny a God, destroy man'snobility; for certainly man is of kin to the beasts, by his body; and, if he be not of kin to God, by hisspirit, he is a base and ignoble creature. It destroyslikewise magnanimity, and the raising of humannature; for take an example of a dog, and markwhat a generosity and courage he will put on, when he finds himself maintained by a man; whoto him is instead of a God, or melior natura; whichcourage is manifestly such, as that creature, with-out that confidence of a better nature than his own, could never attain. So man, when he resteth andassureth himself, upon divine protection andfavor, gathered a force and faith, which humannature in itself could not obtain. Therefore, asatheism is in all respects hateful, so in this, that itdepriveth human nature of the means to exalt it-self, above human frailty. As it is in particularpersons, so it is in nations. Never was there such astate for magnanimity as Rome. Of this state hearwhat Cicero saith: Quam volumus licet, patres con-scripti, nos amemus, tamen nec numero Hispanos, nec robore Gallos, nec calliditate Poenos, nec arti-bus Graecos, nec denique hoc ipso hujus gentis etterrae domestico nativoque sensu Italos ipsos etLatinos; sed pietate, ac religione, atque hac unasapientia, quod deorum immortalium numineomnia regi gubernarique perspeximus, omnesgentes nationesque superavimus.
Of Superstition
IT WERE better to have no opinion of God at all, than such an opinion, as is unworthy of him. For the one is unbelief, the other is contumely;and certainly superstition is the reproach of theDeity. Plutarch saith well to that purpose: Surely(saith he) I had rather a great deal, men shouldsay, there was no such man at all, as Plutarch, than that they should say, that there was one Plu-tarch, that would eat his children as soon as theywere born; as the poets speak of Saturn. And as thecontumely is greater towards God, so the danger isgreater towards men. Atheism leaves a man tosense, to philosophy, to natural piety, to laws, toreputation; all which may be guides to an outwardmoral virtue, though religion were not; but super-stition dismounts all these, and erecteth an abso-lute monarchy, in the minds of men. Thereforetheism did never perturb states; for it makes menwary of themselves, as looking no further: and wesee the times inclined to atheism (as the time ofAugustus Caesar) were civil times. But supersti-tion hath been the confusion of many states, andbringeth in a new primum mobile, that ravishethall the spheres of government. The master of super-stition, is the people; and in all superstition, wisemen follow fools; and arguments are fitted to prac-tice, in a reversed order. It was gravely said bysome of the prelates in the Council of Trent, wherethe doctrine of the Schoolmen bare great sway, that the Schoolmen were like astronomers, whichdid feign eccentrics and epicycles, and such en-gines of orbs, to save the phenomena; though theyknew there were no such things; and in like man-ner, that the Schoolmen had framed a number ofsubtle and intricate axioms, and theorems, to savethe practice of the church. The causes of supersti-tion are: pleasing and sensual rites and ceremonies;excess of outward and pharisaical holiness; over-great reverence of traditions, which cannot butload the church; the stratagems of prelates, fortheir own ambition and lucre; the favoring toomuch of good intentions, which openeth the gateto conceits and novelties; the taking an aim atdivine matters, by human, which cannot butbreed mixture of imaginations: and, lastly, bar-barous times, especially joined with calamitiesand disasters. Superstition, without a veil, is a de-formed thing; for, as it addeth deformity to anape, to be so like a man, so the similitude of super-stition to religion, makes it the more deformed. And as wholesome meat corrupteth to little worms, so good forms and orders corrupt, into a number ofpetty observances. There is a superstition in avoid-ing superstition, when men think to do best, if theygo furthest from the superstition, formerly re-ceived; therefore care would be had that (as itfareth in ill purgings) the good be not taken awaywith the bad; which commonly is done, when thepeople is the reformer.
Of Travel
TRAVEL, in the younger sort, is a part of edu-cation, in the elder, a part of experience. Hethat travelleth into a country, before he hath someentrance into the language, goeth to school, andnot to travel. That young men travel under sometutor, or grave servant, I allow well; so that he besuch a one that hath the language, and hath beenin the country before; whereby he may be ableto tell them what things are worthy to be seen, inthe country where they go; what acquaintancesthey are to seek; what exercises, or discipline, theplace yieldeth. For else, young men shall gohooded, and look abroad little. It is a strange thing, that in sea voyages, where there is nothing to beseen, but sky and sea, men should make diaries;but in land-travel, wherein so much is to be ob-served, for the most part they omit it; as if chancewere fitter to be registered, than observation. Letdiaries, therefore, be brought in use. The things tobe seen and observed are: the courts of princes, especially when they give audience to ambassa-dors; the courts of justice, while they sit and hearcauses; and so of consistories ecclesiastic; thechurches and monasteries, with the monumentswhich are therein extant; the walls and fortifica-tions of cities, and towns, and so the heavens andharbors; antiquities and ruins; libraries; colleges, disputations, and lectures, where any are; ship-ping and navies; houses and gardens of state andpleasure, near great cities; armories; arsenals;magazines; exchanges; burses; warehouses; exer-cises of horsemanship, fencing, training of sol-diers, and the like; comedies, such whereunto thebetter sort of persons do resort; treasuries of jewelsand robes; cabinets and rarities; and, to conclude, whatsoever is memorable, in the places wherethey go. After all which, the tutors, or servants, ought to make diligent inquiry. As for triumphs, masks, feasts, weddings, funerals, capital execu-tions, and such shows, men need not to be put inmind of them; yet are they not to be neglected. Ifyou will have a young man to put his travel into alittle room, and in short time to gather much, thisyou must do. First, as was said, he must have someentrance into the language before he goeth. Thenhe must have such a servant, or tutor, as knoweththe country, as was likewise said. Let him carrywith him also, some card or book, describing thecountry where he travelleth; which will be a goodkey to his inquiry. Let him keep also a diary. Lethim not stay long, in one city or town; more or lessas the place deserveth, but not long; nay, when hestayeth in one city or town, let him change hislodging from one end and part of the town, to an-other; which is a great adamant of acquaintance. Let him sequester himself, from the company ofhis countrymen, and diet in such places, wherethere is good company of the nation where hetravelleth. Let him, upon his removes from oneplace to another, procure recommendation to someperson of quality, residing in the place whither heremoveth; that he may use his favor, in thosethings he desireth to see or know. Thus he mayabridge his travel, with much profit. As for theacquaintance, which is to be sought in travel; thatwhich is most of all profitable, is acquaintancewith the secretaries and employed men of ambas-sadors: for so in travelling in one country, he shallsuck the experience of many. Let him also see, andvisit, eminent persons in all kinds, which are ofgreat name abroad; that he may be able to tell, how the life agreeth with the fame. For quarrels, they are with care and discretion to be avoided. They are commonly for mistresses, healths, place, and words. And let a man beware, how he keepethcompany with choleric and quarrelsome persons;for they will engage him into their own quarrels. When a traveller returneth home, let him notleave the countries, where he hath travelled, alto-gether behind him; but maintain a correspond-ence by letters, with those of his acquaintance, which are of most worth. And let his travel appearrather in his discourse, than his apparel or gesture;and in his discourse, let him be rather advised inhis answers, than forward to tell stories; and let itappear that he doth not change his country man-ners, for those of foreign parts; but only prick insome flowers, of that he hath learned abroad, intothe customs of his own country.
Of Empire
IT IS a miserable state of mind, to have fewthings to desire, and many things to fear; andyet that commonly is the case of kings; who, beingat the highest, want matter of desire, which makestheir minds more languishing; and have many rep-resentations of perils and shadows, which makestheir minds the less clear. And this is one reasonalso, of that effect which the Scripture speaketh of, That the king's heart is inscrutable. For multitudeof jealousies, and lack of some predominant de-sire, that should marshal and put in order all therest, maketh any man's heart, hard to find orsound. Hence it comes likewise, that princes manytimes make themselves desires, and set their heartsupon toys; sometimes upon a building; sometimesupon erecting of an order; sometimes upon the ad-vancing of a person; sometimes upon obtainingexcellency in some art, or feat of the hand; as Nerofor playing on the harp, Domitian for certaintyof the hand with the arrow, Commodus for play-ing at fence, Caracalla for driving chariots, andthe like. This seemeth incredible, unto those thatknow not the principle, that the mind of man, ismore cheered and refreshed by profiting in smallthings, than by standing at a stay, in great. We seealso that kings that have been fortunate conquer-ors, in their first years, it being not possible forthem to go forward infinitely, but that they musthave some check, or arrest in their fortunes, turnin their latter years to be superstitious, and melan-choly; as did Alexander the Great; Diocletian; andin our memory, Charles the Fifth; and others: forhe that is used to go forward, and findeth a stop, falleth out of his own favor, and is not the thinghe was.
To speak now of the true temper of empire, it isa thing rare and hard to keep; for both temper, anddistemper, consist of contraries. But it is one thing, to mingle contraries, another to interchange them. The answer of Apollonius to Vespasian, is full ofexcellent instruction. Vespasian asked him, Whatwas Nero's overthrow? He answered, Nero couldtouch and tune the harp well; but in government, sometimes he used to wind the pins too high, some-times to let them down too low. And certain it is, that nothing destroyeth authority so much, as theunequal and untimely interchange of powerpressed too far, and relaxed too much.
This is true, that the wisdom of all these lattertimes, in princes' affairs, is rather fine deliveries, and shiftings of dangers and mischiefs, when theyare near, than solid and grounded courses to keepthem aloof. But this is but to try masteries withfortune. And let men beware, how they neglectand suffer matter of trouble to be prepared; for noman can forbid the spark, nor tell whence it maycome. The difficulties in princes' business are manyand great; but the greatest difficulty, is often intheir own mind. For it is common with princes(saith Tacitus) to will contradictories, Sunt pler-umque regum voluntates vehementes, et inter secontrariae. For it is the solecism of power, to thinkto command the end, and yet not to endure themean.
Kings have to deal with their neighbors, theirwives, their children, their prelates or clergy, theirnobles, their second-nobles or gentlemen, theirmerchants, their commons, and their men of war;and from all these arise dangers, if care and cir-cumspection be not used.
First for their neighbors; there can no generalrule be given (for occasions are so variable), saveone, which ever holdeth, which is, that princes dokeep due sentinel, that none of their neighbors doever grow so (by increase of territory, by embrac-ing of trade, by approaches, or the like), as theybecome more able to annoy them, than they were. And this is generally the work of standing coun-sels, to foresee and to hinder it. During that trium-virate of kings, King Henry the Eighth of England, Francis the First King of France, and Charles theFifth Emperor, there was such a watch kept, thatnone of the three could win a palm of ground, butthe other two would straightways balance it, either by confederation, or, if need were, by a war;and would not in any wise take up peace at inter-est. And the like was done by that league (whichGuicciardini saith was the security of Italy) madebetween Ferdinando King of Naples, LorenziusMedici, and Ludovicus Sforza, potentates, the oneof Florence, the other of Milan. Neither is the opin-ion of some of the Schoolmen, to be received, that awar cannot justly be made, but upon a precedentinjury or provocation. For there is no question, buta just fear of an imminent danger, though there beno blow given, is a lawful cause of a war.
For their wives; there are cruel examples ofthem. Livia is infamed, for the poisoning of herhusband; Roxalana, Solyman's wife, was thedestruction of that renowned prince, Sultan Mus-tapha, and otherwise troubled his house and suc-cession; Edward the Second of England, his queen, had the principal hand in the deposing and mur-der of her husband. This kind of danger, is then tobe feared chiefly, when the wives have plots, forthe raising of their own children; or else that theybe advoutresses.
For their children; the tragedies likewise ofdangers from them, have been many. And gen-erally, the entering of fathers into suspicion oftheir children, hath been ever unfortunate. Thedestruction of Mustapha (that we named before)was so fatal to Solyman's line, as the succession ofthe Turks, from Solyman until this day, is sus-pected to be untrue, and of strange blood; for thatSelymus the Second, was thought to be supposi-tious. The destruction of Crispus, a young prince ofrare towardness, by Constantinus the Great, hisfather, was in like manner fatal to his house; forboth Constantinus and Constance, his sons, diedviolent deaths; and Constantius, his other son, didlittle better; who died indeed of sickness, but afterthat Julianus had taken arms against him. The de-struction of Demetrius, son to Philip the Second ofMacedon, turned upon the father, who died ofrepentance. And many like examples there are;but few or none, where the fathers had good bysuch distrust; except it were, where the sons wereup in open arms against them; as was Selymus theFirst against Bajazet; and the three sons of Henrythe Second, King of England.
For their prelates; when they are proud andgreat, there is also danger from them; as it was inthe times of Anselmus, and Thomas Becket, Arch-bishops of Canterbury; who, with their croziers, did almost try it with the king's sword; and yetthey had to deal with stout and haughty kings, William Rufus, Henry the First, and Henry theSecond. The danger is not from that state, butwhere it hath a dependence of foreign authority;or where the churchmen come in and are elected, not by the collation of the king, or particularpatrons, but by the people.
For their nobles; to keep them at a distance, it isnot amiss; but to depress them, may make a kingmore absolute, but less safe; and less able to per-form, any thing that he desires. I have noted it, inmy History of King Henry the Seventh of Eng-land, who depressed bis nobility; whereupon itcame to pass, that his times were full of difficultiesand troubles; for the nobility, though they con-tinued loyal unto him, yet did they not co-operatewith him in his business. So that in effect, he wasfain to do all things himself.
For their second-nobles; there is not much dan-ger from them, being a body dispersed. They maysometimes discourse high, but that doth little hurt;besides, they are a counterpoise to the higher no-bility, that they grow not too potent; and, lastly, being the most immediate in authority, with thecommon people, they do best temper popular com-motions.
For their merchants; they are vena porta; andif they flourish not, a kingdom may have goodlimbs, but will have empty veins, and nourishlittle. Taxes and imposts upon them, do seldomgood to the king's revenue; for that that he wins inthe hundred, he leeseth in the shire; the particularrates being increased, but the total bulk of trading, rather decreased.
For their commons; there is little danger fromthem, except it be, where they have great and po-tent heads; or where you meddle with the point ofreligion, or their customs, or means of life.
For their men of war; it is a dangerous state, where they live and remain in a body, and areused to donatives; whereof we see examples in thejanizaries, and pretorian bands of Rome; but train-ings of men, and arming them in several places, and under several commanders, and withoutdonatives, are things of defence, and no danger.
Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which causegood or evil times; and which have much venera-tion, but no rest. All precepts concerning kings, are in effect comprehended in those two remem-brances: memento quod es homo; and mementoquod es Deus, or vice Dei; the one bridleth theirpower, and the other their will.
Of Counsel
THE greatest trust, between man and man, isthe trust of giving counsel. For in other con-fidences, men commit the parts of life; their lands, their goods, their children, their credit, some par-ticular affair; but to such as they make their coun-sellors, they commit the whole: by how much themore, they are obliged to all faith and integrity. The wisest princes need not think it any diminu-tion to their greatness, or derogation to their suf-ficiency, to rely upon counsel. God himself is notwithout, but hath made it one of the great namesof his blessed Son: The Counsellor. Solomon hathpronounced, that in counsel is stability. Thingswill have their first, or second agitation: if they benot tossed upon the arguments of counsel, theywill be tossed upon the waves of fortune; and befull of inconstancy, doing and undoing, like thereeling of a drunken man. Solomon's son foundthe force of counsel, as his father saw the necessityof it. For the beloved kingdom of God, was firstrent, and broken, by ill counsel; upon which coun-sel, there are set for our instruction, the two markswhereby bad counsel is for ever best discerned;that it was young counsel, for the person; andviolent counsel, for the matter.
The ancient times, do set forth in figure, boththe incorporation, and inseparable conjunction, ofcounsel with kings, and the wise and politic use ofcounsel by kings: the one, in that they say Jupi-ter did marry Metis, which signifieth counsel;whereby they intend that Sovereignty, is marriedto Counsel: the other in that which followeth, which was thus: They say, after Jupiter was mar-ried to Metis, she conceived by him, and was withchild, but Jupiter suffered her not to stay, till shebrought forth, but eat her up; whereby he becamehimself with child, and was delivered of Pallasarmed, out of his head. Which monstrous fablecontaineth a secret of empire; how kings are tomake use of their counsel of state. That first, theyought to refer matters unto them, which is the firstbegetting, or impregnation; but when they areelaborate, moulded, and shaped in the womb oftheir counsel, and grow ripe, and ready to bebrought forth, that then they suffer not their coun-sel to go through with the resolution and direc-tion, as if it depended on them; but take the matterback into their own hands, and make it appear tothe world, that the decrees and final directions(which, because they come forth, with prudenceand power, are resembled to Pallas armed) pro-ceeded from themselves; and not only from theirauthority, but (the more to add reputation to them-selves) from their head and device.
Let us now speak of the inconveniences of coun-sel, and of the remedies. The inconveniences thathave been noted, in calling and using counsel, arethree. First, the revealing of affairs, whereby theybecome less secret. Secondly, the weakening of theauthority of princes, as if they were less of them-selves. Thirdly, the danger of being unfaithfullycounselled, and more for the good of them thatcounsel, than of him that is counselled. For whichinconveniences, the doctrine of Italy, and practiceof France, in some kings' times, hath introducedcabinet counsels; a remedy worse than the disease.
As to secrecy; princes are not bound to commu-nicate all matters, with all counsellors; but mayextract and select. Neither is it necessary, that hethat consulteth what he should do, should declarewhat he will do. But let princes beware, that theunsecreting of their affairs, comes not from them-selves. And as for cabinet counsels, it may be theirmotto, plenus rimarum sum: one futile person, that maketh it his glory to tell, will do more hurtthan many, that know it their duty to conceal. It istrue there be some affairs, which require extremesecrecy, which will hardly go beyond one or twopersons, besides the king: neither are those coun-sels unprosperous; for, besides the secrecy, theyconunonly go on constantly, in one spirit of direc-tion, without distraction. But then it must be aprudent king, such as is able to grind with a hand-mill; and those inward counsellors had need alsobe wise men, and especially true and trusty to theking's ends; as it was with King Henry the Seventhof England, who, in his great business, impartedhimself to none, except it were to Morton and Fox.
For weakening of authority; the fable showeththe remedy. Nay, the majesty of kings, is ratherexalted than diminished, when they are in thechair of counsel; neither was there ever prince, be-reaved of his dependences, by his counsel, exceptwhere there hath been, either an over-greatnessin one counsellor, or an over-strict combination indivers; which are things soon found, and holpen.
For the last inconvenience, that men will coun-sel, with an eye to themselves; certainly, noninveniet fidem super terram is meant, of the na-ture of times, and not of all particular persons. There be, that are in nature faithful, and sincere, and plain, and direct; not crafty and involved; letprinces, above all, draw to themselves such na-tures. Besides, counsellors are not commonly sounited, but that one counsellor, keepeth sentinelover another; so that if any do counsel out of fac-tion or private ends, it commonly comes to theking's ear. But the best remedy is, if princes knowtheir counsellors, as well as their counsellorsknow them:
Principis est virtus maxima nosse suos.
And on the other side, counsellors should not betoo speculative into their sovereign's person. Thetrue composition of a counsellor, is rather to beskilful in their master's business, than in his na-ture; for then he is like to advise him, and not feedhis humor. It is of singular use to princes, if theytake the opinions of their counsel, both separatelyand together. For private opinion is more free;but opinion before others, is more reverent. Inprivate, men are more bold in their own humors;and in consort, men are more obnoxious to others'humors; therefore it is good to take both; and ofthe inferior sort, rather in private, to preserve free-dom; of the greater, rather in consort, to preserverespect. It is in vain for princes, to take counselconcerning matters, if they take no counsel like-wise concerning persons; for all matters are asdead images; and the life of the execution of af-fairs, resteth in the good choice of persons. Neitheris it enough, to consult concerning persons secun-dum genera, as in an idea, or mathematical de-scription, what the kind and character of theperson should be; for the greatest errors are com-mitted, and the most judgment is shown, in thechoice of individuals. It was truly said, optimi con-siliarii mortui: books will speak plain, when coun-sellors blanch. Therefore it is good to be conversantin them, specially the books of such as themselveshave been actors upon the stage.
The counsels at this day, in most places, are butfamiliar meetings, where matters are rather talkedon, than debated. And they run too swift, to theorder, or act, of counsel. It were better that incauses of weight, the matter were propounded oneday, and not spoken to till the next day; in nocteconsilium. So was it done in the Commission ofUnion, between England and Scotland; whichwas a grave and orderly assembly. I commend setdays for petitions; for both it gives the sudtors morecertainty for their attendance, and it frees themeetings for matters of estate, that they may hocagere. In choice of committees; for ripening busi-ness for the counsel, it is better to choose indifferentpersons, than to make an indifferency, by puttingin those, that are strong on both sides. I commendalso standing commissions; as for trade, for treas-ure, for war, for suits, for some provinces; forwhere there be divers particular counsels, and butone counsel of estate (as it is in Spain), they are, ineffect, no more than standing commissions: savethat they have greater authority. Let such as areto inform counsels, out of their particular profes-sions (as lawyers, seamen, mintmen, and the like)be first heard before committees; and then, as oc-casion serves, before the counsel. And let them notcome in multitudes, or in a tribunitious manner;for that is to clamor counsels, not to inform them. A long table and a square table, or seats about thewalls, seem things of form, but are things of sub-stance; for at a long table a few at the upper end, ineffect, sway all the business; but in the other form, there is more use of the counsellors' opinions, thatsit lower. A king, when he presides in counsel, lethim beware how he opens his own inclination toomuch, in that which he propoundeth; for elsecounsellors will but take the wind of him, and in-stead of giving free counsel, sing him a song ofplacebo.
Of Delays
FORTUNE is like the market; where manytimes if you can stay a little, the price will fall. Again, it is sometimes like Sibylla's offer; which atfirst, offereth the commodity at full, then con-sumeth part and part, and still holdeth up theprice. For occasion (as it is in the common verse)turneth a bald noddle, after she hath presented herlocks in front, and no hold taken; or at least turneththe handle of the bottle, first to be received, andafter the belly, which is hard to clasp. There issurely no greater wisdom, than well to time thebeginnings, and onsets, of things. Dangers are nomore light, if they once seem light; and more dan-gers have deceived men, than forced them. Nay, it were better, to meet some dangers half way, though they come nothing near, than to keep toolong a watch upon their approaches; for if a manwatch too long, it is odds he will fall asleep. On theother side, to be deceived with too long shadows(as some have been, when the moon was low, andshone on their enemies' back), and so to shoot offbefore the time; or to teach dangers to come on, byover early buckling towards them; is another ex-treme. The ripeness, or unripeness, of the occasion(as we said) must ever be well weighed; and gener-ally it is good, to commit the beginnings of allgreat actions to Argus, with his hundred eyes, andthe ends to Briareus, with his hundred hands; firstto watch, and then to speed. For the helmet ofPluto, which maketh the politic man go invisible, is secrecy in the counsel, and celerity in the execu-tion. For when things are once come to the execu-tion, there is no secrecy, comparable to celerity;like the motion of a bullet in the air, which fliethso swift, as it outruns the eye.
Of Cunning
WE TAKE cunning for a sinister or crookedwisdom. And certainly there is a great dif-ference, between a cunning man, and a wise man;not only in point of honesty, but in point of ability. There be, that can pack the cards, and yet cannotplay well; so there are some that are good in can-vasses and factions, that are otherwise weak men. Again, it is one thing to understand persons, andanother thing to understand matters; for manyare perfect in men's humors, that are not greatlycapable of the real part of business; which is theconstitution of one that hath studied men, morethan books. Such men are fitter for practice, thanfor counsel; and they are good, but in their ownalley: turn them to new men, and they have losttheir aim; so as the old rule, to know a fool from awise man, Mitte ambos nudos ad ignotos, et vide-bis, doth scarce hold for them. And because thesecunning men, are like haberdashers of smallwares, it is not amiss to set forth their shop.
It is a point of cunning, to wait upon him withwhom you speak, with your eye; as the Jesuits giveit in precept: for there be many wise men, thathave secret hearts, and transparent countenances. Yet this would be done with a demure abasing ofyour eye, sometimes, as the Jesuits also do use.
Another is, that when you have anything toobtain, of present despatch, you entertain andamuse the party, with whom you deal, with someother discourse; that he be not too much awake tomake objections. I knew a counsellor and secre-tary, that never came to Queen Elizabeth of Eng-land, with bills to sign, but he would always firstput her into some discourse of estate, that shemought the less mind the bills.
The like surprise may be made by movingthings, when the party is in haste, and cannot stayto consider advisedly of that is moved.
If a man would cross a business, that he doubtssome other would handsomely and effectuallymove, let him pretend to wish it well, and move ithimself in such sort as may foil it.
The breaking off, in the midst of that one wasabout to say, as if he took himself up, breeds agreater appetite in him with whom you confer, toknow more.
And because it works better, when anythingseemeth to be gotten from you by question, thanif you offer it of yourself, you may lay a bait for aquestion, by showing another visage, and counte-nance, than you are wont; to the end to give occa-sion, for the party to ask, what the matter is of thechange? As Nehemias did; And I had not beforethat time, been sad before the king.
In things that are tender and unpleasing, it isgood to break the ice, by some whose words are ofless weight, and to reserve the more weighty voice, to come in as by chance, so that he may be askedthe question upon the other's speech: as Narcissusdid, relating to Claudius the marriage of Messa-lina and Silius.
In things that a man would not be seen in him-self, it is a point of cunning, to borrow the name ofthe world; as to say, The world says, or There is aspeech abroad.
I knew one that, when he wrote a letter, hewould put that, which was most material, in thepostscript, as if it had been a by-matter.
I knew another that, when he came to havespeech, he would pass over that, that he intendedmost; and go forth, and come back again, andspeak of it as of a thing, that he had almost forgot.
Some procure themselves, to be surprised, atsuch times as it is like the party that they workupon, will suddenly come upon them; and to befound with a letter in their hand, or doing some-what which they are not accustomed; to the end, they may be apposed of those things, which ofthemselves they are desirous to utter.
It is a point of cunning, to let fall those words ina man's own name, which he would have anotherman learn, and use, and thereupon take advan-tage. I knew two, that were competitors for thesecretary's place in Queen Elizabeth's time, andyet kept good quarter between themselves; andwould confer, one with another, upon the busi-ness; and the one of them said, That to be a secre-tary, in the declination of a monarchy, was aticklish thing, and that he did not affect it: theother straight caught up those words, and dis-coursed with divers of his friends, that he had noreason to desire to be secretary, in the declinationof a monarchy. The first man took hold of it, andfound means it was told the Queen; who, hearingof a declination of a monarchy, took it so ill, as shewould never after hear of the other's suit.
There is a cunning, which we in England call, the turning of the cat in the pan; which is, whenthat which a man says to another, he lays it as ifanother had said it to him. And to say truth, it isnot easy, when such a matter passed between two, to make it appear from which of them it firstmoved and began.
It is a way that some men have, to glance anddart at others, by justifying themselves by nega-tives; as to say, This I do not; as Tigellinus didtowards Burrhus, Se non diversas spes, sed incolu-mitatem imperatoris simpliciter spectare.
Some have in readiness so many tales andstories, as there is nothing they would insinuate, but they can wrap it into a tale; which serveth bothto keep themselves more in guard, and to makeothers carry it with more pleasure. It is a goodpoint of cunning, for a man to shape the answerhe would have, in his own words and propositions;for it makes the other party stick the less.
It is strange how long some men will lie in waitto speak somewhat they desire to say; and how farabout they will fetch; and how many other mat-ters they will beat over, to come near it. It is a thingof great patience, but yet of much use.
A sudden, bold, and unexpected question dothmany times surprise a man, and lay him open. Like to him that, having changed his name, andwalking in Paul's, another suddenly came behindhim, and called him by his true name, whereatstraightways he looked back.
But these small wares, and petty points, of cun-ning, are infinite; and it were a good deed to makea list of them; for that nothing doth more hurt ina state, than that cunning men pass for wise.
But certainly some there are that know the re-sorts and falls of business, that cannot sink intothe main of it; like a house that hath convenientstairs and entries, but never a fair room. Therefore, you shall see them find out pretty looses in the con-clusion, but are no ways able to examine or debatematters. And yet commonly they take advantageof their inability, and would be thought wits ofdirection. Some build rather upon the abusing ofothers, and (as we now say) putting tricks uponthem, than upon soundness of their own proceed-ings. But Solomon saith, Prudens advertit ad gres-sus suos; stultus divertit ad dolos.
Of WisdomFOR A MAN'S SELF
AN ANT is a wise creature for itself, but it is a shrewd thing, in an orchard or garden. Andcertainly, men that are great lovers of themselves, waste the public. Divide with reason; between self-love and society; and be so true to thyself, as thoube not false to others; specially to thy king andcountry. It is a poor centre of a man's actions, him-self. It is right earth. For that only stands fast uponhis own centre; whereas all things, that have af-finity with the heavens, move upon the centre ofanother, which they benefit. The referring of allto a man's self, is more tolerable in a sovereignprince; because themselves are not only them-selves, but their good and evil is at the peril of thepublic fortune. But it is a desperate evil, in a ser-vant to a prince, or a citizen in a republic. Forwhatsoever affairs pass such a man's hands, hecrooketh them to his own ends; which must needsbe often eccentric to the ends of his master, or state. Therefore, let princes, or states, choose such ser-vants, as have not this mark; except they meantheir service should be made but the accessory. That which maketh the effect more pernicious, isthat all proportion is lost. It were disproportionenough, for the servant's good to be preferred be-fore the master's; but yet it is a greater extreme, when a little good of the servant, shall carry thingsagainst a great good of the master's. And yet thatis the case of bad officers, treasurers, ambassadors, generals, and other false and corrupt servants;which set a bias upon their bowl, of their ownpetty ends and envies, to the overthrow of theirmaster's great and important affairs. And for themost part, the good such servants receive, is afterthe model of their own fortune; but the hurt theysell for that good, is after the model of theirmaster's fortune. And certainly it is the nature ofextreme self-lovers, as they will set an house on fire, and it were but to roast their eggs; and yet thesemen many times hold credit with their masters, because their study is but to please them, and profitthemselves; and for either respect, they will aban-don the good of their affairs.
Wisdom for a man's self is, in many branchesthereof, a depraved thing. It is the wisdom of rats, that will be sure to leave a house, somewhat beforeit fall. It is the wisdom of the fox, that thrusts outthe badger, who digged and made room for him. It is the wisdom of crocodiles, that shed tears whenthey would devour. But that which is specially tobe noted is, that those which (as Cicero says ofPompey) are sui amantes, sine rivali, are manytimes unfortunate. And whereas they have, alltheir times, sacrificed to themselves, they becomein the end, themselves sacrifices to the inconstancyof fortune, whose wings they thought, by theirself-wisdom, to have pinioned.
Of Innovations
AS THE births of living creatures, at first are ill-shapen, so are all innovations, which are thebirths of time. Yet notwithstanding, as those thatfirst bring honor into their family, are commonlymore worthy than most that succeed, so the firstprecedent (if it be good) is seldom attained byimitation. For ill, to man's nature, as it standsperverted, hath a natural motion, strongest in con-tinuance; but good, as a forced motion, strongestat first. Surely every medicine is an innovation;and he that will not apply new remedies, mustexpect new evils; for time is the greatest innovator;and if time of course alter things to the worse, andwisdom and counsel shall not alter them to thebetter, what shall be the end? It is true, that whatis settled by custom, though it be not good, yet atleast it is fit; and those things which have longgone together, are, as it were, confederate withinthemselves; whereas new things piece not so well;but though they help by their utility, yet theytrouble by their inconformity. Besides, they arelike strangers; more admired, and less favored. Allthis is true, if time stood still; which contrariwisemoveth so round, that a froward retention of cus-tom, is as turbulent a thing as an innovation; andthey that reverence too much old times, are but ascorn to the new. It were good, therefore, that menin their innovations would follow the example oftime itself; which indeed innovateth greatly, butquietly, by degrees scarce to be perceived. Forotherwise, whatsoever is new is unlooked for; andever it mends some, and pairs others; and he thatis holpen, takes it for a fortune, and thanks thetime; and he that is hurt, for a wrong, and imput-eth it to the author. It is good also, not to try experi-ments in states, except the necessity be urgent, orthe utility evident; and well to beware, that it bethe reformation, that draweth on the change, andnot the desire of change, that pretendeth the refor-mation. And lastly, that the novelty, though it benot rejected, yet be held for a suspect; and, as theScripture saith, that we make a stand upon theancient way, and then look about us, and discoverwhat is the straight and right way, and so to walkin it.
Of Dispatch
AFFECTED dispatch is one of the most danger-ous things to business that can be. It is likethat, which the physicians call predigestion, orhasty digestion; which is sure to fill the body full ofcrudities, and secret seeds of diseases. Thereforemeasure not dispatch, by the times of sitting, butby the advancement of the business. And as inraces it is not the large stride or high lift that makesthe speed; so in business, the keeping close to thematter, and not taking of it too much at once, pro-cureth dispatch. It is the care of some, only to comeoff speedily for the time; or to contrive some falseperiods of business, because they may seem menof dispatch. But it is one thing, to abbreviate bycontracting, another by cutting off . And businessso handled, at several sittings or meetings, goethcommonly backward and forward in an unsteadymanner. I knew a wise man that had it for a by-word, when he saw men hasten to a conclusion, Stay a little, that we may make an end the sooner.
On the other side, true dispatch is a rich thing. For time is the measure of business, as money isof wares; and business is bought at a dear hand, where there is small dispatch. The Spartans andSpaniards have been noted to be of small dispatch;Mi venga la muerte de Spagna; Let my death comefrom Spain; for then it will be sure to be long incoming.
Give good hearing to those, that give the firstinformation in business; and rather direct themin the beginning, than interrupt them in the con-tinuance of their speeches; for he that is put out ofhis own order, will go forward and backward, andbe more tedious, while he waits upon his memory, than he could have been, if he had gone on in hisown course. But sometimes it is seen, that themoderator is more troublesome, than the actor.
Iterations are commonly loss of time. But thereis no such gain of time, as to iterate often the stateof the question; for it chaseth away many a frivo-lous speech, as it is coming forth. Long and curiousspeeches, are as fit for dispatch, as a robe or mantle, with a long train, is for race. Prefaces and pas-sages, and excusations, and other speeches of refer-ence to the person, are great wastes of time; andthough they seem to proceed of modesty, they arebravery. Yet beware of being too material, whenthere is any impediment or obstruction in men'swills; for pre-occupation of mind ever requirethpreface of speech; like a fomentation to make theunguent enter.
Above all things, order, and distribution, andsingling out of parts, is the life of dispatch; so as thedistribution be not too subtle: for he that doth notdivide, will never enter well into business; and hethat divideth too much, will never come out of itclearly. To choose time, is to save time; and an un-seasonable motion, is but beating the air. There bethree parts of business; the preparation, the debateor examination, and the perfection. Whereof, ifyou look for dispatch, let the middle only be thework of many, and the first and last the work offew. The proceeding upon somewhat conceived inwriting, doth for the most part facilitate dispatch:for though it should be wholly rejected, yet thatnegative is more pregnant of direction, than anindefinite; as ashes are more generative than dust.
Of Seeming Wise
IT HATH been an opinion, that the French arewiser than they seem, and the Spaniards seemwiser than they are. But howsoever it be betweennations, certainly it is so between man and man. For as the Apostle saith of godliness, Having ashow of godliness, but denying the power thereof;so certainly there are, in point of wisdom and suf-ficiently, that do nothing or little very solemnly:magno conatu nugas. It is a ridiculous thing, andfit for a satire to persons of judgment, to see whatshifts these formalists have, and what prospectivesto make superficies to seem body, that hath depthand bulk. Some are so close and reserved, as theywill not show their wares, but by a dark light; andseem always to keep back somewhat; and whenthey know within themselves, they speak of thatthey do not well know, would nevertheless seemto others, to know of that which they may not wellspeak. Some help themselves with countenanceand gesture, and are wise by signs; as Cicero saithof Piso, that when he answered him, he fetchedone of his brows up to his forehead, and bent theother down to his chin; Respondes, altero ad fron-tem sublato, altero ad mentum depresso super-cilio, crudelitatem tibi non placere. Some thinkto bear it by speaking a great word, and being per-emptory; and go on, and take by admittance, thatwhich they cannot make good. Some, whatsoeveris beyond their reach, will seem to despise, or makelight of it, as impertinent or curious; and so wouldhave their ignorance seem judgment. Some arenever without a difference, and commonly byamusing men with a subtilty, blanch the matter;of whom A. Gellius saith, Hominem delirum, quiverborum minutiis rerum frangit pondera. Ofwhich kind also, Plato, in his Protagoras, bringethin Prodius in scorn, and maketh him make aspeech, that consisteth of distinction from the be-ginning to the end. Generally, such men in alldeliberations find ease to be of the negative side, and affect a credit to object and foretell difficul-ties; for when propositions are denied, there is anend of them; but if they be allowed, it requireth anew work; which false point of wisdom is the baneof business. To conclude, there is no decaying mer-chant, or inward beggar, hath so many tricks touphold the credit of their wealth, as these emptypersons have, to maintain the credit of their suf-ficiency. Seeming wise men may make shift to getopinion; but let no man choose them for employ-ment; for certainly you were better take for busi-ness, a man somewhat absurd, than over-formal.
Of Friendship
IT HAD been hard for him that spake it to haveput more truth and untruth together in fewwords, than in that speech, Whatsoever is delightedin solitude, is either a wild beast or a god. For it ismost true, that a natural and secret hatred, andaversation towards society, in any man, hathsomewhat of the savage beast; but it is most un-true, that it should have any character at all, of thedivine nature; except it proceed, not out of a pleas-ure in solitude, but out of a love and desire tosequester a man's self, for a higher conversation:such as is found to have been falsely and feignedlyin some of the heathen; as Epimenides the Can-dian, Numa the Roman, Empedocles the Sicilian, and Apollonius of Tyana; and truly and really, indivers of the ancient hermits and holy fathers ofthe church. But little do men perceive what soli-tude is, and how far it extendeth. For a crowd isnot company; and faces are but a gallery of pic-tures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, wherethere is no love. The Latin adage meeteth with it alittle: Magna civitas, magna solitudo; because ina great town friends are scattered; so that there isnot that fellowship, for the most part, which is inless neighborhoods. But we may go further, andaffirm most truly, that it is a mere and miserablesolitude to want true friends; without which theworld is but a wilderness; and even in this sensealso of solitude, whosoever in the frame of hisnature and affections, is unfit for friendship, hetaketh it of the beast, and not from humanity.
A principal fruit of friendship, is the ease anddischarge of the fulness and swellings of the heart, which passions of all kinds do cause and induce. We know diseases of stoppings, and suffocations, are the most dangerous in the body; and it is notmuch otherwise in the mind; you may take sarzato open the liver, steel to open the spleen, flowersof sulphur for the lungs, castoreum for the brain;but no receipt openeth the heart, but a true friend;to whom you may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, and whatsoever lieth uponthe heart to oppress it, in a kind of civil shrift orconfession.
It is a strange thing to observe, how high a rategreat kings and monarchs do set upon this fruit offriendship, whereof we speak: so great, as theypurchase it, many times, at the hazard of theirown safety and greatness. For princes, in regardof the distance of their fortune from that of theirsubjects and servants, cannot gather this fruit, ex-cept (to make themselves capable thereof) theyraise some persons to be, as it were, companionsand almost equals to themselves, which manytimes sorteth to inconvenience. The modern lan-guages give unto such persons the name of favor-ites, or privadoes; as if it were matter of grace, orconversation. But the Roman name attaineth thetrue use and cause thereof, naming them parti-cipes curarum; for it is that which tieth the knot. And we see plainly that this hath been done, notby weak and passionate princes only, but by thewisest and most politic that ever reigned; whohave oftentimes joined to themselves some oftheir servants; whom both themselves have calledfriends, and allowed other likewise to call them inthe same manner; using the word which is re-ceived between private men.
L. Sylla, when he commanded Rome, raisedPompey (after surnamed the Great) to that height, that Pompey vaunted himself for Sylla's over-match. For when he had carried the consulship fora friend of his, against the pursuit of Sylla, andthat Sylla did a little resent thereat, and began tospeak great, Pompey turned upon him again, andin effect bade him be quiet; for that more menadored the sun rising, than the sun setting. WithJulius Caesar, Decimus Brutus had obtained thatinterest as he set him down in his testament, forheir in remainder, after his nephew. And this wasthe man that had power with him, to draw himforth to his death. For when Caesar would havedischarged the senate, in regard of some ill pres-ages, and specially a dream of Calpurnia; thisman lifted him gently by the arm out of his chair, telling him he hoped he would not dismiss thesenate, till his wife had dreamt a better dream. And it seemeth his favor was so great, as Antonius, in a letter which is recited verbatim in one ofCicero's Philippics, calleth him venefica, witch;as if he had enchanted Caesar. Augustus raisedAgrippa (though of mean birth) to that height, aswhen he consulted with Maecenas, about the mar-riage of his daughter Julia, Maecenas took theliberty to tell him, that he must either marry hisdaughter to Agrippa, or take away his life; therewas no third way, he had made him so great. WithTiberius Caesar, Sejanus had ascended to thatheight, as they two were termed, and reckoned, asa pair of friends. Tiberius in a letter to him saith, Haec pro amicitia nostra non occultavi; and thewhole senate dedicated an altar to Friendship, asto a goddess, in respect of the great dearness offriendship, between them two. The like, or more, was between Septimius Severus and Plautianus. For he forced his eldest son to marry the daughterof Plautianus; and would often maintain Plau-tianus, in doing affronts to his son; and did writealso in a letter to the senate, by these words: I lovethe man so well, as I wish he may over-live me. Now if these princes had been as a Trajan, or aMarcus Aurelius, a man might have thought thatthis had proceeded of an abundant goodness ofnature; but being men so wise, of such strengthand severity of mind, and so extreme lovers ofthemselves, as all these were, it proveth mostplainly that they found their own felicity (thoughas great as ever happened to mortal men) but asan half piece, except they mought have a friend, to make it entire; and yet, which is more, theywere princes that had wives, sons, nephews; andyet all these could not supply the comfort of friend-ship.
It is not to be forgotten, what Comineus observ-eth of his first master, Duke Charles the Hardy, namely, that he would communicate his secretswith none; and least of all, those secrets whichtroubled him most. Whereupon he goeth on, andsaith that towards his latter time, that closenessdid impair, and a little perish his understanding. Surely Comineus mought have made the samejudgment also, if it had pleased him, of his secondmaster, Lewis the Eleventh, whose closeness wasindeed his tormentor. The parable of Pythagorasis dark, but true; Cor ne edito; Eat not the heart. Certainly, if a man would give it a hard phrase, those that want friends, to open themselves unto, are carnnibals of their own hearts. But one thingis most admirable (wherewith I will conclude thisfirst fruit of friendship), which is, that this com-municating of a man's self to his friend, workstwo contrary effects; for it redoubleth joys, andcutteth griefs in halves. For there is no man, thatimparteth his joys to his friend, but he joyeth themore; and no man that imparteth his griefs to hisfriend, but he grieveth the less. So that it is in truth, of operation upon a man's mind, of like virtue asthe alchemists use to attribute to their stone, forman's body; that it worketh all contrary effects, but still to the good and benefit of nature. But yetwithout praying in aid of alchemists, there is amanifest image of this, in the ordinary course ofnature. For in bodies, union strengtheneth andcherisheth any natural action; and on the otherside, weakeneth and dulleth any violent impres-sion: and even so it is of minds.
The second fruit of friendship, is healthful andsovereign for the understanding, as the first is forthe affections. For friendship maketh indeed a fairday in the affections, from storm and tempests; butit maketh daylight in the understanding, out ofdarkness, and confusion of thoughts. Neither isthis to be understood only of faithful counsel, which a man receiveth from his friend; but beforeyou come to that, certain it is, that whosoever hathhis mind fraught with many thoughts, his witsand understanding do clarify and break up, in thecommunicating and discoursing with another; hetosseth his thoughts more easily; he marshalleththem more orderly, he seeth how they look whenthey are turned into words: finally, he waxethwiser than himself; and that more by an hour'sdiscourse, than by a day's meditation. It was wellsaid by Themistocles, to the king of Persia, Thatspeech was like cloth of Arras, opened and putabroad; whereby the imagery doth appear infigure; whereas in thoughts they lie but as inpacks. Neither is this second fruit of friendship, inopening the understanding, restrained only tosuch friends as are able to give a man counsel;(they indeed are best;) but even without that, aman learneth of himself, and bringeth his ownthoughts to light, and whetteth his wits as againsta stone, which itself cuts not. In a word, a manwere better relate himself to a statua, or picture, than to suffer his thoughts to pass in smother.
Add now, to make this second fruit of friendshipcomplete, that other point, which lieth more open, and falleth within vulgar observation; which isfaithful counsel from a friend. Heraclitus saithwell in one of his enigmas, Dry light is ever thebest. And certain it is, that the light that a manreceiveth by counsel from another, is drier andpurer, than that which cometh from his ownunderstanding and judgment; which is ever in-fused, and drenched, in his affections and customs. So as there is as much difference between the coun-sel, that a friend giveth, and that a man givethhimself, as there is between the counsel of a friend, and of a flatterer. For there is no such flatterer asis a man's self; and there is no such remedy againstflattery of a man's self, as the liberty of a friend. Counsel is of two sorts: the one concerning man-ners, the other concerning business. For the first, the best preservative to keep the mind in health, isthe faithful admonition of a friend. The calling ofa man's self to a strict account, is a medicine, some-time too piercing and corrosive. Reading goodbooks of morality, is a little flat and dead. Observ-ing our faults in others, is sometimes improper forour case. But the best receipt (best, I say, to work, and best to take) is the admonition of a friend. It is a strange thing to behold, what gross errorsand extreme absurdities many (especially of thegreater sort) do commit, for want of a friend to tellthem of them; to the great damage both of theirfame and fortune: for, as St. James saith, they areas men that look sometimes into a glass, and pres-ently forget their own shape and favor. As forbusiness, a man may think, if he win, that twoeyes see no more than one; or that a gamester seethalways more than a looker-on; or that a man inanger, is as wise as he that hath said over the fourand twenty letters; or that a musket may be shotoff as well upon the arm, as upon a rest; and suchother fond and high imaginations, to think him-self all in all. But when all is done, the help of goodcounsel, is that which setteth business straight. And if any man think that he will take counsel, but it shall be by pieces; asking counsel in onebusiness, of one man, and in another business, ofanother man; it is well (that is to say, better, per-haps, than if he asked none at all); but he runnethtwo dangers: one, that he shall not be faithfullycounselled; for it is a rare thing, except it be froma perfect and entire friend, to have counsel given, but such as shall be bowed and crooked to someends, which he hath, that giveth it. The other, thathe shall have counsel given, hurtful and unsafe(though with good meaning), and mixed partly ofmischief and partly of remedy; even as if youwould call a physician, that is thought good forthe cure of the disease you complain of, but is unac-quainted with your body; and therefore may putyou in way for a present cure, but overthrowethyour health in some other kind; and so cure thedisease, and kill the patient. But a friend that iswholly acquainted with a man's estate, will be-ware, by furthering any present business, how hedasheth upon other inconvenience. And thereforerest not upon scattered counsels; they will ratherdistract and mislead, than settle and direct.
After these two noble fruits of friendship (peacein the affections, and support of the judgment), followeth the last fruit; which is like the pome-granate, full of many kernels; I mean aid, andbearing a part, in all actions and occasions. Herethe best way to represent to life the manifold useof friendship, is to cast and see how many thingsthere are, which a man cannot do himself; andthen it will appear, that it was a sparing speech ofthe ancients, to say, that a friend is another him-self; for that a friend is far more than himself. Men have their time, and die many times, in de-sire of some things which they principally take toheart; the bestowing of a child, the finishing of awork, or the like. If a man have a true friend, hemay rest almost secure that the care of those thingswill continue after him. So that a man hath, as itwere, two lives in his desires. A man hath a body, and that body is confined to a place; but wherefriendship is, all offices of life are as it were grantedto him, and his deputy. For he may exercise themby his friend. How many things are there whicha man cannot, with any face or comeliness, say ordo himself? A man can scarce allege his ownmerits with modesty, much less extol them; a mancannot sometimes brook to supplicate or beg; anda number of the like. But all these things are grace-ful, in a friend's mouth, which are blushing in aman's own. So again, a man's person hath manyproper relations, which he cannot put off. A mancannot speak to his son but as a father; to his wifebut as a husband; to his enemy but upon terms:whereas a friend may speak as the case requires, and not as it sorteth with the person. But to enu-merate these things were endless; I have given therule, where a man cannot fitly play his own part;if he have not a friend, he may quit the stage.
Of Expense
RICHES are for spending, and spending forhonor and good actions. Therefore extra-ordinary expense must be limited by the worth ofthe occasion; for voluntary undoing, may be aswell for a man's country, as for the kingdom ofheaven. But ordinary expense, ought to be limitedby a man's estate; and governed with such regard, as it be within his compass; and not subject to de-ceit and abuse of servants; and ordered to the bestshow, that the bills may be less than the estima-tion abroad. Certainly, if a man will keep but ofeven hand, his ordinary expenses ought to be butto the half of his receipts; and if he think to waxrich, but to the third part. It is no baseness, for thegreatest to descend and look into their own estate. Some forbear it, not upon negligence alone, butdoubting to bring themselves into melancholy, inrespect they shall find it broken. But wounds can-not be cured without searching. He that cannotlook into his own estate at all, had need both choosewell those whom he employeth, and change themoften; for new are more timorous and less subtle. He that can look into his estate but seldom, it be-hooveth him to turn all to certainties. A man hadneed, if he be plentiful in some kind of expense, tobe as saving again in some other. As if he be plenti-ful in diet, to be saving in apparel; if he be plenti-ful in the hall, to be saving in the stable; and thelike. For he that is plentiful in expenses of all kinds, will hardly be preserved from decay. In clearingof a man's estate, he may as well hurt himself inbeing too sudden, as in letting it run on too long. For hasty selling, is commonly as disadvantage-able as interest. Besides, he that clears at once willrelapse; for finding himself out of straits, he willrevert to his custom: but he that cleareth by de-grees, induceth a habit of frugality, and gainethas well upon his mind, as upon his estate. Cer-tainly, who hath a state to repair, may not despisesmall things; and commonly it is less dishonor-able, to abridge petty charges, than to stoop topetty gettings. A man ought warily to begincharges which once begun will continue; but inmatters that return not, he may be more magni-ficent.
Of the TrueGREATNESS OF KING-DOMS AND ESTATES
THE speech of Themistocles the Athenian, which was haughty and arrogant, in takingso much to himself, had been a grave and wiseobservation and censure, applied at large to others. Desired at a feast to touch a lute, he said, He couldnot fiddle, but yet he could make a small town, agreat city. These words (holpen a little with ametaphor) may express two differing abilities, inthose that deal in business of estate. For if a truesurvey be taken of counsellors and statesmen, there may be found (though rarely) those whichcan make a small state great, and yet cannot fid-dle; as on the other side, there will be found a greatmany, that can fiddle very cunningly, but yet areso far from being able to make a small state great, as their gift lieth the other way; to bring a greatand flourishing estate, to ruin and decay. And cer-tainly whose degenerate arts and shifts, wherebymany counsellors and governors gain both favorwith their masters, and estimation with the vulgar, deserve no better name than fiddling; being thingsrather pleasing for the time, and graceful to them-selves only, than tending to the weal and advance-ment of the state which they serve. There are also(no doubt) counsellors and governors which maybe held sufficient (negotiis pares), able to manageaffairs, and to keep them from precipices andmanifest inconveniences; which nevertheless arefar from the ability to raise and amplify an estatein power, means, and fortune. But be the workmenwhat they may be, let us speak of the work; thatis, the true greatness of kingdoms and estates, andthe means thereof. An argument fit for great andmighty princes to have in their hand; to the endthat neither by over-measuring their forces, theyleese themselves in vain enterprises; nor on theother side, by undervaluing them, they descend tofearful and pusillanimous counsels.
The greatness of an estate, in bulk and territory, doth fall under measure; and the greatness offinances and revenue, doth fall under computa-tion. The population may appear by musters; andthe number and greatness of cities and towns bycards and maps. But yet there is not any thingamongst civil affairs more subject to error, thanthe right valuation and true judgment concerningthe power and forces of an estate. The kingdom ofheaven is compared, not to any great kernel or nut, but to a grain of mustard-seed: which is one of theleast grains, but hath in it a property and spirithastily to get up and spread. So are there states, great in territory, and yet not apt to enlarge orcommand; and some that have but a small dimen-sion of stem, and yet apt to be the foundations ofgreat monarchies.
Walled towns, stored arsenals and armories, goodly races of horse, chariots of war, elephants, ordnance, artillery, and the like; all this is but asheep in a lion's skin, except the breed and disposi-tion of the people, be stout and warlike. Nay, num-ber (itself) in armies importeth not much, wherethe people is of weak courage; for (as Virgil saith)It never troubles a wolf, how many the sheep be. The army of the Persians, in the plains of Arbela, was such a vast sea of people, as it did somewhatastonish the commanders in Alexander's army;who came to him therefore, and wished him to setupon them by night; and he answered, He wouldnot pilfer the victory. And the defeat was easy. When Tigranes the Armenian, being encampedupon a hill with four hundred thousand men, dis-covered the army of the Romans, being not abovefourteen thousand, marching towards him, hemade himself merry with it, and said, Yonder menare too many for an embassage, and too few for afight. But before the sun set, he found them enowto give him the chase with infinite slaughter. Many are the examples of the great odds, betweennumber and courage; so that a man may trulymake a judgment, that the principal point of great-ness in any state, is to have a race of military men. Neither is money the sinews of war (as it is triviallysaid), where the sinews of men's arms, in base andeffeminate people, are failing. For Solon said wellto Croesus (when in ostentation he showed him hisgold), Sir, if any other come, that hath better iron, than you, he will be master of all this gold. There-fore let any prince or state think solely of his forces, except his militia of natives be of good and valiantsoldiers. And let princes, on the other side, thathave subjects of martial disposition, know theirown strength; unless they be otherwise wantingunto themselves. As for mercenary forces (whichis the help in this case), all examples show, thatwhatsoever estate or prince doth rest upon them, he may spread his feathers for a time, but he willmew them soon after.
The blessing of Judah and Issachar will nevermeet; that the same people, or nation, should beboth the lion's whelp and the ass between bur-thens; neither will it be, that a people overlaidwith taxes, should ever become valiant and mar-tial. It is true that taxes levied by consent of theestate, do abate men's courage less: as it hath beenseen notably, in the excises of the Low Countries;and, in some degree, in the subsidies of England. For you must note, that we speak now of the heart, and not of the purse. So that although the sametribute and tax, laid by consent or by imposing, beall one to the purse, yet it works diversely upon thecourage. So that you may conclude, that no peopleovercharged with tribute, is fit for empire.
Let states that aim at greatness, take heed howtheir nobility and gentlemen do multiply too fast. For that maketh the common subject, grow to be apeasant and base swain, driven out of heart, and ineffect but the gentleman's laborer. Even as youmay see in coppice woods; if you leave your stad-dles too thick, you shall never have clean under-wood, but shrubs and bushes. So in countries, if thegentlemen be too many, the commons will be base;and you will bring it to that, that not the hundredpoll, will be fit for an helmet; especially as to theinfantry, which is the nerve of an army; and sothere will be great population, and little strength. This which I speak of, hath been nowhere betterseen, than by comparing of England and France;whereof England, though far less in territory andpopulation, hath been (nevertheless) an over-match; in regard the middle people of Englandmake good soldiers, which the peasants of Francedo not. And herein the device of king Henry theSeventh (whereof I have spoken largely in theHistory of his Life) was profound and admirable;in making farms and houses of husbandry of astandard; that is, maintained with such a propor-tion of land unto them, as may breed a subject tolive in convenient plenty and no servile condition;and to keep the plough in the hands of the owners, and not mere hirelings. And thus indeed you shallattain to Virgil's character which he gives to an-cient Italy:
Terra potens armis atque ubere glebae.
Neither is that state (which, for any thing I know, is almost peculiar to England, and hardly to befound anywhere else, except it be perhaps inPoland) to be passed over; I mean the state of freeservants, and attendants upon noblemen andgentlemen; which are no ways inferior unto theyeomanry for arms. And therefore out of all ques-tions, the splendor and magnificence, and greatretinues and hospitality, of noblemen and gentle-men, received into custom, doth much conduceunto martial greatness. Whereas, contrariwise, theclose and reserved living of noblemen and gentle-men, causeth a penury of military forces.
By all means it is to be procured, that the trunkof Nebuchadnezzar's tree of monarchy, be greatenough to bear the branches and the boughs; thatis, that the natural subjects of the crown or state, bear a sufficient proportion to the stranger sub-jects, that they govern. Therefore all states that areliberal of naturalization towards strangers, are fitfor empire. For to think that an handful of peoplecan, with the greatest courage and policy in theworld, embrace too large extent of dominion, itmay hold for a time, but it will fail suddenly. TheSpartans were a nice people in point of naturaliza-tion; whereby, while they kept their compass, they stood firm; but when they did spread, andtheir boughs were becomen too great for theirstem, they became a windfall, upon the sudden. Never any state was in this point so open to receivestrangers into their body, as were the Romans. Therefore it sorted with them accordingly; forthey grew to the greatest monarchy. Their mannerwas to grant naturalization (which they called juscivitatis), and to grant it in the highest degree; thatis, not only jus commercii, jus connubii, jus haere-ditatis; but also jus suffragii, and jus honorum. And this not to singular persons alone, but likewiseto whole families; yea to cities, and sometimes tonations. Add to this their custom of plantation ofcolonies; whereby the Roman plant was removedinto the soil of other nations. And putting bothconstitutions together, you will say that it was notthe Romans that spread upon the world, but it wasthe world that spread upon the Romans; and thatwas the sure way of greatness. I have marvelled, sometimes, at Spain, how they clasp and containso large dominions, with so few natural Spaniards;but sure the whole compass of Spain, is a very greatbody of a tree; far above Rome and Sparta at thefirst. And besides, though they have not had thatusage, to naturalize liberally, yet they have thatwhich is next to it; that is, to employ, almost indif-ferently, all nations in their militia of ordinarysoldiers; yea, and sometimes in their highest com-mands. Nay, it seemeth at this instant they aresensible, of this want of natives; as by the Prag-matical Sanction, now published, appeareth.
It is certain that sedentary, and within-doorarts, and delicate manufactures (that requirerather the finger than the arm), have, in their na-ture, a contrariety to a military disposition. Andgenerally, all warlike people are a little idle, andlove danger better than travail. Neither must theybe too much broken of it, if they shall be preservedin vigor. Therefore it was great advantage, in theancient states of Sparta, Athens, Rome, and others, that they had the use of slaves, which commonlydid rid those manufactures. But that is abolished, in greatest part, by the Christian law. That whichcometh nearest to it, is to leave those arts chiefly tostrangers (which, for that purpose, are the moreeasily to be received), and to contain the principalbulk of the vulgar natives, within those threekinds, - tillers of the ground; free servants; andhandicraftsmen of strong and manly arts, assmiths, masons, carpenters, etc. ; not reckoningprofessed soldiers.
But above all, for empire and greatness, it im-porteth most, that a nation do profess arms, as theirprincipal honor, study, and occupation. For thethings which we formerly have spoken of, are buthabilitations towards arms; and what is habilita-tion without intention and act? Romulus, after hisdeath (as they report or feign), sent a present to theRomans, that above all, they should intend arms;and then they should prove the greatest empire ofthe world. The fabric of the state of Sparta waswholly (though not wisely) framed and composed, to that scope and end. The Persians and Macedo-nians had it for a flash. The Gauls, Germans, Goths, Saxons, Normans, and others, had it for atime. The Turks have it at this day, though in greatdeclination. Of Christian Europe, they that have itare, in effect, only the Spaniards. But it is soplain, that every man profiteth in that, he mostintendeth, that it needeth not to be stood upon. Itis enough to point at it; that no nation which dothnot directly profess arms, may look to have great-ness fall into their mouths. And on the other side, it is a most certain oracle of time, that those statesthat continue long in that profession (as the Ro-mans and Turks principally have done) do won-ders. And those that have professed arms but foran age, have, notwithstanding, commonly at-tained that greatness, in that age, which main-tained them long after, when their profession andexercise of arms hath grown to decay.
Incident to this point is, for a state to have thoselaws or customs, which may reach forth unto themjust occasions (as may be pretended) of war. Forthere is that justice, imprinted in the nature ofmen, that they enter not upon wars (whereof somany calamities do ensue) but upon some, at theleast specious, grounds and quarrels. The Turkhath at hand, for cause of war, the propagation ofhis law or sect; a quarrel that he may always com-mand. The Romans, though they esteemed theextending the limits of their empire, to be greathonor to their generals, when it was done, yet theynever rested upon that alone, to begin a war. First, therefore, let nations that pretend to greatnesshave this; that they be sensible of wrongs, eitherupon borderers, merchants, or politic ministers;and that they sit not too long upon a provocation. Secondly, let them be prest, and ready to give aidsand succors, to their confederates; as it ever waswith the Romans; insomuch, as if the confederatehad leagues defensive, with divers other states, and, upon invasion offered, did implore their aidsseverally, yet the Romans would ever be the fore-most, and leave it to none other to have the honor. As for the wars which were anciently made, onthe behalf of a kind of party, or tacit conformity ofestate, I do not see how they may be well justified:as when the Romans made a war, for the liberty ofGrecia; or when the Lacedaemonians and Athe-nians, made wars to set up or pull down democ-racies and oligarchies; or when wars were madeby foreigners, under the pretence of justice or pro-tection, to deliver the subjects of others, fromtyranny and oppression; and the like. Let it suf-fice, that no estate expect to be great, that is notawake upon any just occasion of arming.
No body can be healthful without exercise, neither natural body nor politic; and certainly toa kingdom or estate, a just and honorable war, isthe true exercise. A civil war, indeed, is like theheat of a fever; but a foreign war is like the heat ofexercise, and serveth to keep the body in health;for in a slothful peace, both courages will effemi-nate, and manners corrupt. But howsoever it befor happiness, without all question, for greatness, it maketh to be still for the most part in arms; andthe strength of a veteran army (though it be achargeable business) always on foot, is that whichcommonly giveth the law, or at least the reputa-tion, amongst all neighbor states; as may well beseen in Spain, which hath had, in one part or other, a veteran army almost continually, now by thespace of six score years.
To be master of the sea, is an abridgment of amonarchy. Cicero, writing to Atticus of Pompeyhis preparation against Caesar, saith, ConsiliumPompeii plane Themistocleum est; putat enim, qui mari potitur, eum rerum potiri. And, withoutdoubt, Pompey had tired out Caesar, if upon vainconfidence, he had not left that way. We see thegreat effects of battles bv sea. The battle of Actium, decided the empire of the world. The battle of Le-panto, arrested the greatness of the Turk. There bemany examples, where sea-fights have been finalto the war; but this is when princes or states haveset up their rest, upon the battles. But thus muchis certain, that he that commands the sea, is atgreat liberty, and may take as much, and as little, of the war as he will. Whereas those that be strong-est by land, are many times nevertheless in greatstraits. Surely, at this day, with us of Europe, thevantage of strength at sea (which is one of the prin-cipal dowries of this kingdom of Great Britain) isgreat; both because most of the kingdoms of Eu-rope, are not merely inland, but girt with the seamost part of their compass; and because the wealthof both Indies seems in great part, but an accessoryto the command of the seas.
The wars of latter ages seem to be made in thedark, in respect of the glory, and honor, whichreflected upon men from the wars, in ancient time. There be now, for martial encouragement, somedegrees and orders of chivalry; which neverthelessare conferred promiscuously, upon soldiers andno soldiers; and some remembrance perhaps, uponthe scutcheon; and some hospitals for maimed sol-diers; and such like things. But in ancient times, the trophies erected upon the place of the victory;the funeral laudatives and monuments for thosethat died in the wars; the crowns and garlands per-sonal; the style of emperor, which the great kingsof the world after borrowed; the triumphs of thegenerals, upon their return; the great donativesand largesses, upon the disbanding of the armies;were things able to inflame all men's courages. But above all, that of the triumph, amongst theRomans, was not pageants or gaudery, but one ofthe wisest and noblest institutions, that ever was. For it contained three things: honor to the general;riches to the treasury out of the spoils; and dona-tives to the army. But that honor, perhaps were notfit for monarchies; except it be in the person of themonarch himself, or his sons; as it came to pass inthe times of the Roman emperors, who did impro-priate the actual triumphs to themselves, and theirsons, for such wars as they did achieve in person;and left only, for wars achieved by subjects, sometriumphal garments and ensigns to the general.
To conclude: no man can by care taking (as theScripture saith) add a cubit to his stature, in thislittle model of a man's body; but in the great frameof kingdoms and commonwealths, it is in thepower of princes or estates, to add amplitude andgreatness to their kingdoms; for by introducingsuch ordinances, constitutions, and customs, as wehave now touched, they may sow greatness totheir posterity and succession. But these things arecommonly not observed, but left to take theirchance.
Of Regiment
OF HEALTH
THERE is a wisdom in this; beyond the rules ofphysic: a man's own observation, what hefinds good of, and what he finds hurt of, is the bestphysic to preserve health. But it is a safer conclu-sion to say, This agreeth not well with me, there-fore, I will not continue it; than this, I find nooffence of this, therefore I may use it. For strengthof nature in youth, passeth over many excesses, which are owing a man till his age. Discern of thecoming on of years, and think not to do the samethings still; for age will not be defied. Beware ofsudden change, in any great point of diet, and, ifnecessity enforce it, fit the rest to it. For it is a secretboth in nature and state, that it is safer to changemany things, than one. Examine thy customs ofdiet, sleep, exercise, apparel, and the like; and try, in any thing thou shalt judge hurtful, to discon-tinue it, by little and little; but so, as if thou dostfind any inconvenience by the change, thou comeback to it again: for it is hard to distinguish thatwhich is generally held good and wholesome, from that which is good particularly, and fit forthine own body. To be free-minded and cheerfullydisposed, at hours of meat, and of sleep, and ofexercise, is one of the best precepts of long lasting. As for the passions, and studies of the mind; avoidenvy, anxious fears; anger fretting inwards;subtle and knotty inquisitions; joys and exhilara-tions in excess; sadness not communicated. Enter-tain hopes; mirth rather than joy; variety ofdelights, rather than surfeit of them; wonder andadmiration, and therefore novelties; studies thatfill the mind with splendid and illustrious objects, as histories, fables, and contemplations of nature. If you fly physic in health altogether, it will be toostrange for your body, when you shall need it. Ifyou make it too familiar, it will work no extra-ordinary effect, when sickness cometh. I commendrather some diet for certain seasons, than frequentuse of physic, except it be grown into a custom. Forthose diets alter the body more, and trouble it less. Despise no new accident in your body, but askopinion of it. In sickness, respect health prin-cipally; and in health, action. For those that puttheir bodies to endure in health, may in most sick-nesses, which are not very sharp, be cured onlywith diet, and tendering. Celsus could never havespoken it as a physician, had he not been a wiseman withal, when he giveth it for one of the greatprecepts of health and lasting, that a man do vary, and interchange contraries, but with an inclina-tion to the more benign extreme: use fasting andfull eating, but rather full eating; watching andsleep, but rather sleep; sitting and exercise, butrather exercise; and the like. So shall nature becherished, and yet taught masteries. Physiciansare, some of them, so pleasing and conformable tothe humor of the patient, as they press not the truecure of the disease; and some other are so regular, in proceeding according to art for the disease, asthey respect not sufficiently the condition of thepatient. Take one of a middle temper; or if it maynot be found in one man, combine two of eithersort; and forget not to call as well, the best ac-quainted with your body, as the best reputed offor his faculty.
Of Suspicion
SUSPICIONS amongst thoughts, are like batsamongst birds, they ever fly by twilight. Cer-tainly they are to be repressed, or at least wellguarded: for they cloud the mind; they leesefriends; and they check with business, wherebybusiness cannot go on currently and constantly. They dispose kings to tyranny, husbands to jeal-ousy, wise men to irresolution and melancholy. They are defects, not in the heart, but in the brain;for they take place in the stoutest natures; as in theexample of Henry the Seventh of England. Therewas not a more suspicious man, nor a more stout. And in such a composition they do small hurt. Forcommonly they are not admitted, but with exami-nation, whether they be likely or no. But in fearfulnatures they gain ground too fast. There is nothingmakes a man suspect much, more than to knowlittle; and therefore men should remedy suspicion, by procuring to know more, and not to keep theirsuspicions in smother. What would men have? Dothey think, those they employ and deal with, aresaints? Do they not think, they will have their ownends, and be truer to themselves, than to them?Therefore there is no better way, to moderate sus-picions, than to account upon such suspicions astrue, and yet to bridle them as false. For so far aman ought to make use of suspicions, as to provide, as if that should be true, that he suspects, yet itmay do him no hurt. Suspicions that the mind ofitself gathers, are but buzzes; but suspicions thatare artificially nourished, and put into men'sheads, by the tales and whisperings of others, havestings. Certainly, the best mean, to clear the wayin this same wood of suspicions, is frankly to com-municate them with the party, that he suspects;for thereby he shall be sure to know more of thetruth of them, than he did before; and withal shallmake that party more circumspect, not to givefurther cause of suspicion. But this would not bedone to men of base natures; for they, if they findthemselves once suspected, will never be true. TheItalian says, Sospetto licentia fede; as if suspicion, did give a passport to faith; but it ought, rather, tokindle it to discharge itself.
Of Discourse
SOME, in their discourse, desire rather com-mendation of wit, in being able to hold allarguments, than of judgment, in discerning whatis true; as if it were a praise, to know what mightbe said, and not, what should be thought. Somehave certain common places, and themes, whereinthey are good and want variety; which kind ofpoverty is for the most part tedious, and when it isonce perceived, ridiculous. The honorablest part oftalk, is to give the occasion; and again to moderate, and pass to somewhat else; for then a man leads thedance. It is good, in discourse and speech of con-versation, to vary and intermingle speech of thepresent occasion, with arguments, tales with rea-sons, asking of questions, with telling of opinions, and jest with earnest: for it is a dull thing to tire, and, as we say now, to jade, any thing too far. Asfor jest, there be certain things, which ought to beprivileged from it; namely, religion, matters ofstate, great persons, any man's present business ofimportance, and any case that deserveth pity. Yetthere be some, that think their wits have beenasleep, except they dart out somewhat that ispiquant, and to the quick. That is a vein whichwould be bridled:
Parce, puer, stimulis, et fortius utere loris.
And generally, men ought to find the difference, between saltness and bitterness. Certainly, he thathath a satirical vein, as he maketh others afraid ofhis wit, so he had need be afraid of others' memory. He that questioneth much, shall learn much, andcontent much; but especially, if he apply his ques-tions to the skill of the persons whom he asketh; forhe shall give them occasion, to please themselvesin speaking, and himself shall continually gatherknowledge. But let his questions not be trouble-some; for that is fit for a poser. And let him be sureto leave other men, their turns to speak. Nay, ifthere be any, that would reign and take up allthe time, let him find means to take them off, and to bring others on; as musicians use to do, withthose that dance too long galliards. If you dis-semble, sometimes, your knowledge of that youare thought to know, you shall be thought, anothertime, to know that you know not. Speech of aman's self ought to be seldom, and well chosen. Iknew one, was wont to say in scorn, He must needsbe a wise man, he speaks so much of himself: andthere is but one case, wherein a man may com-mend himself with good grace; and that is incommending virtue in another; especially if it besuch a virtue, whereunto himself pretendeth. Speech of touch towards others, should be spar-ingly used; for discourse ought to be as a field, without coming home to any man. I knew twonoblemen, of the west part of England, whereofthe one was given to scoff, but kept ever royal cheerin his house; the other would ask, of those that hadbeen at the other's table, Tell truly, was there nevera flout or dry blow given? To which the guestwould answer, Such and such a thing passed. The lord would say, I thought, he would mar agood dinner. Discretion of speech, is more thaneloquence; and to speak agreeably to him, withwhom we deal, is more than to speak in goodwords, or in good order. A good continued speech, without a good speech of interlocution, showsslowness: and a good reply or second speech, with-out a good settled speech, showeth shallownessand weakness. As we see in beasts, that those thatare weakest in the course, are yet nimblest in theturn; as it is betwixt the greyhound and the hare. To use too many circumstances, ere one come tothe matter, is wearisome; to use none at all, isblunt.
Of Plantations
PLANTATIONS are amongst ancient, primi-tive, and heroical works. When the world wasyoung, it begat more children; but now it is old, itbegets fewer: for I may justly account new plan-tations, to be the children of former kingdoms. Ilike a plantation in a pure soil; that is, wherepeople are not displanted, to the end, to plant inothers. For else it is rather an extirpation, than aplantation. Planting of countries, is like plantingof woods; for you must make account to leese al-most twenty years' profit, and expect your recom-pense in the end. For the principal thing, that hathbeen the destruction of most plantations, hathbeen the base and hasty drawing of profit, in thefirst years. It is true, speedy profit is not to be neg-lected, as far as may stand with the good of theplantation, but no further. It is a shameful andunblessed thing, to take the scum of people, andwicked condemned men, to be the people withwhom you plant; and not only so, but it spoileththe plantation; for they will ever live like rogues, and not fall to work, but be lazy, and do mischief, and spend victuals, and be quickly weary, andthen certify over to their country, to the discreditof the plantation. The people wherewith youplant ought to be gardeners, ploughmen, laborers, smiths, carpenters, joiners, fishermen, fowlers, with some few apothecaries, surgeons, cooks, andbakers. In a country of plantation, first look about, what kind of victual the country yields of itself tohand; as chestnuts, walnuts, pineapples, olives, dates, plums, cherries, wild honey, and the like;and make use of them. Then consider what victualor esculent things there are, which grow speedily, and within the year; as parsnips, carrots, turnips, onions, radish, artichokes of Hierusalem, maize, and the like. For wheat, barley, and oats, they asktoo much labor; but with pease and beans you maybegin, both because they ask less labor, and be-cause they serve for meat, as well as for bread. Andof rice, likewise cometh a great increase, and it isa kind of meat. Above all, there ought to be broughtstore of biscuit, oat-meal, flour, meal, and the like, in the beginning, till bread may be had. For beasts, or birds, take chiefly such as are least subject todiseases, and multiply fastest; as swine, goats, cocks, hens, turkeys, geese, house-doves, and thelike. The victual in plantations, ought to be ex-pended almost as in a besieged town; that is, withcertain allowance. And let the main part of theground, employed to gardens or corn, be to a com-mon stock; and to be laid in, and stored up, andthen delivered out in proportion; besides somespots of ground, that any particular person willmanure for his own private. Consider likewisewhat commodities, the soil where the plantationis, doth naturally yield, that they may some wayhelp to defray the charge of the plantation (so it benot, as was said, to the untimely prejudice of themain business), as it hath fared with tobacco inVirginia. Wood commonly aboundeth but toomuch; and therefore timber is fit to be one. If therebe iron ore, and streams whereupon to set the mills, iron is a brave commodity where wood aboundeth. Making of bay-salt, if the climate be proper for it, would be put in experience. Growing silk likewise, if any be, is a likely commodity. Pitch and tar, where store of firs and pines are, will not fail. Sodrugs and sweet woods, where they are, cannotbut yield great profit. Soap-ashes likewise, andother things that may be thought of. But moil nottoo much under ground; for the hope of mines isvery uncertain, and useth to make the planterslazy, in other things. For government; let it be inthe hands of one, assisted with some counsel; andlet them have commission to exercise martial laws, with some limitation. And above all, let men makethat profit, of being in the wilderness, as they haveGod always, and his service, before their eyes. Letnot the government of the plantation, dependupon too many counsellors, and undertakers, inthe country that planteth, but upon a temperatenumber; and let those be rather noblemen andgentlemen, than merchants; for they look ever tothe present gain. Let there be freedom from cus-tom, till the plantation be of strength; and notonly freedom from custom, but freedom to carrytheir commodities, where they may make theirbest of them, except there be some special cause ofcaution. Cram not in people, by sending too fastcompany after company; but rather harken howthey waste, and send supplies proportionably; butso, as the number may live well in the plantation, and not by surcharge be in penury. It hath been agreat endangering to the health of some planta-tions, that they have built along the sea and rivers, in marish and unwholesome grounds. Therefore, though you begin there, to avoid carriage andlike discommodities, yet build still rather upwardsfrom the streams, than along. It concerneth like-wise the health of the plantation, that they havegood store of salt with them, that they may use itin their victuals, when it shall be necessary. If youplant where savages are, do not only entertainthem, with trifles and gingles, but use them justlyand graciously, with sufficient guard nevertheless;and do not win their favor, by helping them to in-vade their enemies, but for their defence it is notamiss; and send oft of them, over to the countrythat plants, that they may see a better conditionthan their own, and commend it when they re-turn. When the plantation grows to strength, thenit is time to plant with women, as well as withmen; that the plantation may spread into genera-tions, and not be ever pieced from without. It is thesinfullest thing in the world, to forsake or destitutea plantation once in forwardness; for besides thedishonor, it is the guiltiness of blood of many com-miserable persons.
Of Riches
I CANNOT call riches better than the baggageof virtue. The Roman word is better, impedi-menta. For as the baggage is to an army, so is richesto virtue. It cannot be spared, nor left behind, butit hindereth the march; yea, and the care of it, sometimes loseth or disturbeth the victory. Ofgreat riches there is no real use, except it be in thedistribution; the rest is but conceit. So saith Solo-mon, Where much is, there are many to consumeit; and what hath the owner, but the sight of itwith his eyes? The personal fruition in any man, cannot reach to feel great riches: there is a custodyof them; or a power of dole, and donative of them;or a fame of them; but no solid use to the owner. Do you not see what feigned prices, are set uponlittle stones and rarities? and what works of osten-tation are undertaken, because there might seemto be some use of great riches? But then you willsay, they may be of use, to buy men out of dangersor troubles. As Solomon saith, Riches are as astrong hold, in the imagination of the rich man. But this is excellently expressed, that it is in imagi-nation, and not always in fact. For certainly greatriches, have sold more men, than they have boughtout. Seek not proud riches, but such as thou mayestget justly, use soberly, distribute cheerfully, andleave contentedly. Yet have no abstract nor friarlycontempt of them. But distinguish, as Cicero saithwell of Rabirius Posthumus, In studio rei ampli-ficandae apparebat, non avaritiae praedam, sedinstrumentum bonitati quaeri. Harken also toSolomon, and beware of hasty gathering of riches;Qui festinat ad divitias, non erit insons. The poetsfeign, that when Plutus (which is Riches) is sentfrom Jupiter, he limps and goes slowly; but whenhe is sent from Pluto, he runs, and is swift of foot. Meaning that riches gotten by good means, andjust labor, pace slowly; but when they come bythe death of others (as by the course of inheritance, testaments, and the like), they come tumblingupon a man. But it mought be applied likewise toPluto, taking him for the devil. For when richescome from the devil (as by fraud and oppression, and unjust means), they come upon speed. Theways to enrich are many, and most of them foul. Parsimony is one of the best, and yet is not inno-cent; for it withholdeth men from works of liberal-ity and charity. The improvement of the ground, is the most natural obtaining of riches; for it is ourgreat mother's blessing, the earth's; but it is slow. And yet where men of great wealth do stoop tohusbandry, it multiplieth riches exceedingly. Iknew a nobleman in England, that had the great-est audits of any man in my time; a great grazier, a great sheep-master, a great timber man, a greatcollier, a great corn-master, a great lead-man, andso of iron, and a number of the like points of hus-bandry. So as the earth seemed a sea to him, inrespect of the perpetual importation. It was trulyobserved by one, that himself came very hardly, to a little riches, and very easily, to great riches. For when a man's stock is come to that, that he canexpect the prime of markets, and overcome thosebargains, which for their greatness are few men'smoney, and be partner in the industries of youngermen, he cannot but increase mainly. The gains ofordinary trades and vocations are honest; andfurthered by two things chiefly: by diligence, andby a good name, for good and fair dealing. But thegains of bargains, are of a more doubtful nature;when men shall wait upon others' necessity, brokeby servants and instruments to draw them on, putoff others cunningly, that would be better chap-men, and the like practices, which are crafty andnaught. As for the chopping of bargains, when aman buys not to hold but to sell over again, thatcommonly grindeth double, both upon the seller, and upon the buyer. Sharings do greatly enrich, if the hands be well chosen, that are trusted. Usuryis the certainest means of gain, though one of theworst; as that whereby a man doth eat his bread, in sudore vultus alieni; and besides, doth ploughupon Sundays. But yet certain though it be, it hathflaws; for that the scriveners and brokers do valueunsound men, to serve their own turn. The fortunein being the first, in an invention or in a privilege, doth cause sometimes a wonderful overgrowth inriches; as it was with the first sugar man, in theCanaries. Therefore if a man can play the truelogician, to have as well judgment, as invention, he may do great matters; especially if the times befit. He that resteth upon gains certain, shall hardlygrow to great riches; and he that puts all uponadventures, doth oftentimes break and come topoverty: it is good, therefore, to guard adventureswith certainties, that may uphold losses. Monopo-lies, and coemption of wares for re-sale, wherethey are not restrained, are great means to enrich;especially if the party have intelligence, whatthings are like to come into request, and so storehimself beforehand. Riches gotten by service, though it be of the best rise, yet when they aregotten by flattery, feeding humors, and other serv-ile conditions, they may be placed amongst theworst. As for fishing for testaments and executor-ships (as Tacitus saith of Seneca, testamenta etorbos tamquam indagine capi), it is yet worse; byhow much men submit themselves to meaner per-sons, than in service. Believe not much, them thatseem to despise riches; for they despise them, thatdespair of them; and none worse, when they cometo them. Be not penny-wise; riches have wings, and sometimes they fly away of themselves, some-times they must be set flying, to bring in more. Men leave their riches, either to their kindred, orto the public; and moderate portions, prosper bestin both. A great state left to an heir, is as a lure toall the birds of prey round about, to seize on him, ifhe be not the better stablished in years and judg-ment. Likewise glorious gifts and foundations, arelike sacrifices without salt; and but the paintedsepulchres of alms, which soon will putrefy, andcorrupt inwardly. Therefore measure not thineadvancements, by quantity, but frame them bymeasure: and defer not charities till death; for, certainly, if a man weigh it rightly, he that dothso, is rather liberal of another man's, than of hisown.
Of Prophecies
I MEAN not to speak of divine prophecies; norof heathen oracles; nor of natural predictions;but only of prophecies that have been of cer-tain memory, and from hidden causes. Saith thePythonissa to Saul, To-morrow thou and thy sonshall be with me. Homer hath these verses:
At domus AEneae cunctis dominabitur oris, Et nati natorum, et qui nascentur ab illis.
A prophecy, as it seems, of the Roman empire. Seneca the tragedian hath these verses:
--Venient annisSaecula seris, quibus OceanusVincula rerum laxet, et ingensPateat Tellus, Tiphysque novosDetegat orbes; nec sit terrisUltima Thule:
a prophecy of the discovery of America. The daugh-ter of Polycrates, dreamed that Jupiter bathed herfather, and Apollo anointed him; and it came topass, that he was crucified in an open place, wherethe sun made his body run with sweat, and therain washed it. Philip of Macedon dreamed, hesealed up bis wife's belly; whereby he did expoundit, that his wife should be barren; but Aristanderthe soothsayer, told him his wife was with child, because men do not use to seal vessels, that areempty. A phantasm that appeared to M. Brutus, inhis tent, said to him, Philippis iterum me videbis. Tiberius said to Galba, Tu quoque, Galba, degusta-bis imperium. In Vespasian's time, there went aprophecy in the East, that those that should comeforth of Judea, should reign over the world:which though it may be was meant of our Savior;yet Tacitus expounds it of Vespasian. Domitiandreamed, the night before he was slain, that agolden head was growing, out of the nape of hisneck: and indeed, the succession that followed himfor many years, made golden times. Henry theSixth of England, said of Henry the Seventh, whenhe was a lad, and gave him water, This is the ladthat shall enjoy the crown, for which we strive. When I was in France, I heard from one Dr. Pena, that the Queen Mother, who was given to curiousarts, caused the King her husband's nativity to becalculated, under a false name; and the astrologergave a judgment, that he should be killed in a duel;at which the Queen laughed, thinking her hus-band to be above challenges and duels: but he wasslain upon a course at tilt, the splinters of the staffof Montgomery going in at his beaver. The trivialprophecy, which I heard when I was a child, andQueen Elizabeth was in the flower of her years, was, When hempe is spun
England's done:
whereby it was generally conceived, that after theprinces had reigned, which had the principalletters of that word hempe (which were Henry, Edward, Mary, Philip, and Elizabeth), Englandshould come to utter confusion; which, thanks beto God, is verified only in the change of the name;for that the King's style, is now no more of Eng-land but of Britain. There was also another proph-ecy, before the year of '88, which I do not wellunderstand.
There shall be seen upon a day, Between the Baugh and the May, The black fleet of Norway. When that that is come and gone, England build houses of lime and stone, For after wars shall you have none.
It was generally conceived to be meant, of theSpanish fleet that came in '88: for that the king ofSpain's surname, as they say, is Norway. The pre-diction of Regiomontanus, Octogesimus octavus mirabilis annus, was thought likewise accomplished in the sendingof that great fleet, being the greatest in strength, though not in number, of all that ever swam uponthe sea. As for Cleon's dream, I think it was a jest. It was, that he was devoured of a long dragon; andit was expounded of a maker of sausages, thattroubled him exceedingly. There are numbers ofthe like kind; especially if you include dreams, andpredictions of astrology. But I have set down thesefew only, of certain credit, for example. My judg-ment is, that they ought all to be despised; andought to serve but for winter talk by the fireside. Though when I say despised, I mean it as for be-lief; for otherwise, the spreading, or publishing, of them, is in no sort to be despised. For they havedone much mischief; and I see many severe lawsmade, to suppress them. That that hath given themgrace, and some credit, consisteth in three things. First, that men mark when they hit, and nevermark when they miss; as they do generally also ofdreams. The second is, that probable conjectures, or obscure traditions, many times turn themselvesinto prophecies; while the nature of man, whichcoveteth divination, thinks it no peril to foretellthat which indeed they do but collect. As that ofSeneca's verse. For so much was then subject todemonstration, that the globe of the earth hadgreat parts beyond the Atlantic, which moughtbe probably conceived not to be all sea: and addingthereto the tradition in Plato's Timaeus, and hisAtlanticus, it mought encourage one to turn it toa prediction. The third and last (which is the greatone) is, that almost all of them, being infinite innumber, have been impostures, and by idle andcrafty brains merely contrived and feigned, afterthe event past.
Of Ambition
AMBITION is like choler; which is an humorthat maketh men active, earnest, full of alac-rity, and stirring, if it be not stopped. But if it bestopped, and cannot have his way, it becomethadust, and thereby malign and venomous. So am-bitious men, if they find the way open for theirrising, and still get forward, they are rather busythan dangerous; but if they be checked in theirdesires, they become secretly discontent, and lookupon men and matters with an evil eye, and arebest pleased, when things go backward; which isthe worst property in a servant of a prince, or state. Therefore it is good for princes, if they use ambi-tious men, to handle it, so as they be still progres-sive and not retrograde; which, because it cannotbe without inconvenience, it is good not to use suchnatures at all. For if they rise not with their service, they will take order, to make their service fall withthem. But since we have said, it were good not touse men of ambitious natures, except it be uponnecessity, it is fit we speak, in what cases they areof necessity. Good commanders in the wars mustbe taken, be they never so ambitious; for the useof their service, dispenseth with the rest; and totake a soldier without ambition, is to pull off hisspurs. There is also great use of ambitious men, inbeing screens to princes in matters of danger andenvy; for no man will take that part, except he belike a seeled dove, that mounts and mounts, be-cause he cannot see about him. There is use also ofambitious men, in pulling down the greatness ofany subject that overtops; as Tiberius used Marco, in the pulling down of Sejanus. Since, therefore, they must be used in such cases, there resteth tospeak, how they are to be bridled, that they may beless dangerous. There is less danger of them, if theybe of mean birth, than if they be noble; and if theybe rather harsh of nature, than gracious and popu-lar: and if they be rather new raised, than growncunning, and fortified, in their greatness. It iscounted by some, a weakness in princes, to havefavorites; but it is, of all others, the best remedyagainst ambitious great-ones. For when the wayof pleasuring, and displeasuring, lieth by thefavorite, it is impossible any other should be over-great. Another means to curb them, is to balancethem by others, as proud as they. But then theremust be some middle counsellors, to keep thingssteady; for without that ballast, the ship will rolltoo much. At the least, a prince may animateand inure some meaner persons, to be as it werescourges, to ambitions men. As for the having ofthem obnoxious to ruin; if they be of fearfulnatures, it may do well; but if they be stout anddaring, it may precipitate their designs, and provedangerous. As for the pulling of them down, if theaffairs require it, and that it may not be done withsafety suddenly, the only way is the interchange, continually, of favors and disgraces; wherebythey may not know what to expect, and be, as itwere, in a wood. Of ambitions, it is less harmful, the ambition to prevail in great things, than thatother, to appear in every thing; for that breedsconfusion, and mars business. But yet it is less dan-ger, to have an ambitious man stirring in business, than great in dependences. He that seeketh to beeminent amongst able men, hath a great task; butthat is ever good for the public. But he, that plotsto be the only figure amongst ciphers, is the decayof a whole age. Honor hath three things in it: thevantage ground to do good; the approach to kingsand principal persons; and the raising of a man'sown fortunes. He that hath the best of these inten-tions, when he aspireth, is an honest man; and thatprince, that can discern of these intentions in an-other that aspireth, is a wise prince. Generally, letprinces and states choose such ministers, as aremore sensible of duty than of using; and such aslove business rather upon conscience, than uponbravery, and let them discern a busy nature, froma willing mind.
Of Masques
AND TRIUMPHS
THESE things are but toys, to come amongstsuch serious observations. But yet, sinceprinces will have such things, it is better theyshould be graced with elegancy, than daubed withcost. Dancing to song, is a thing of great state andpleasure. I understand it, that the song be in quire, placed aloft, and accompanied with some brokenmusic; and the ditty fitted to the device. Acting insong, especially in dialogues, hath an extremegood grace; I say acting, not dancing (for that is amean and vulgar thing); and the voices of the dia-logue would be strong and manly (a base and atenor; no treble); and the ditty high and tragical;not nice or dainty. Several quires, placed one overagainst another, and taking the voice by catches, anthem-wise, give great pleasure. Turning dancesinto figure, is a childish curiosity. And generallylet it be noted, that those things which I here setdown, are such as do naturally take the sense, andnot respect petty wonderments. It is true, the al-terations of scenes, so it be quietly and withoutnoise, are things of great beauty and pleasure; forthey feed and relieve the eye, before it be full ofthe same object. Let the scenes abound with light, specially colored and varied; and let the masquers, or any other, that are to come down from thescene, have some motions upon the scene itself, before their coming down; for it draws the eyestrangely, and makes it, with great pleasure, todesire to see, that it cannot perfectly discern. Letthe songs be loud and cheerful, and not chirpingsor pulings. Let the music likewise be sharp andloud, and well placed. The colors that show best bycandle-light are white, carnation, and a kind ofsea-water-green; and oes, or spangs, as they are ofno great cost, so they are of most glory. As for richembroidery, it is lost and not discerned. Let thesuits of the masquers be graceful, and such as be-come the person, when the vizors are off; not afterexamples of known attires; Turke, soldiers, mari-ners', and the like. Let anti-masques not be long;they have been commonly of fools, satyrs, baboons, wild-men, antics, beasts, sprites, witches, Ethiops, pigmies, turquets, nymphs, rustics, Cupids, statuasmoving, and the like. As for angels, it is not comi-cal enough, to put them in anti-masques; andanything that is hideous, as devils, giants, is onthe other side as unfit. But chiefly, let the musicof them be recreative, and with some strangechanges. Some sweet odors suddenly coming forth, without any drops falling, are, in such a companyas there is steam and heat, things of great pleasureand refreshment. Double masques, one of men, another of ladies, addeth state and variety. But allis nothing except the room be kept clear and neat.
For justs, and tourneys, and barriers; the gloriesof them are chiefly in the chariots, wherein thechallengers make their entry; especially if theybe drawn with strange beasts: as lions, bears, camels, and the like; or in the devices of their en-trance; or in the bravery of their liveries; or in thegoodly furniture of their horses and armor. Butenough of these toys.
Of Nature
IN MEN
NATURE is often hidden; sometimes over-come; seldom extinguished. Force, makethnature more violent in the return; doctrine and dis-course, maketh nature less importune; but customonly doth alter and subdue nature. He that seekethvictory over his nature, let him not set himself toogreat, nor too small tasks; for the first will makehim dejected by often failings; and the second willmake him a small proceeder, though by often pre-vailings. And at the first let him practise withhelps, as swimmers do with bladders or rushes;but after a time let him practise with disadvan-tages, as dancers do with thick shoes. For it breedsgreat perfection, if the practice be harder than theuse. Where nature is mighty, and therefore thevictory hard, the degrees had need be, first to stayand arrest nature in time; like to him that wouldsay over the four and twenty letters when he wasangry; then to go less in quantity; as if one should, in forbearing wine, come from drinking healths, to a draught at a meal; and lastly, to discontinuealtogether. But if a man have the fortitude, andresolution, to enfranchise himself at once, that isthe best:
Optimus ille animi vindex laedentia pectusVincula qui rupit, dedoluitque semel.
Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend nature, as a wand, to a contrary extreme, whereby to set itright, understanding it, where the contrary ex-treme is no vice. Let not a man force a habit uponhimself, with a perpetual continuance, but withsome intermission. For both the pause reinforceththe new onset; and if a man that is not perfect, beever in practice, he shall as well practise his errors, as his abilities, and induce one habit of both; andthere is no means to help this, but by seasonableintermissions. But let not a man trust his victoryover his nature, too far; for nature will lay burieda great time, and yet revive, upon the occasion ortemptation. Like as it was with AEsop's damsel, turned from a cat to a woman, who sat very de-mutely at the board's end, till a mouse ran beforeher. Therefore, let a man either avoid the occasionaltogether; or put himself often to it, that he maybe little moved with it. A man's nature is best per-ceived in privateness, for there is no affectation;in passion, for that putteth a man out of his pre-cepts; and in a new case or experiment, for therecustom leaveth him. They are happy men, whosenatures sort with their vocations; otherwise theymay say, multum incola fuit anima mea; whenthey converse in those things, they do not affect. In studies, whatsoever a man commandeth uponhimself, let him set hours for it; but whatsoever isagreeable to his nature, let him take no care forany set times; for his thoughts will fly to it, ofthemselves; so as the spaces of other business, orstudies, will suffice. A man's nature, runs either toherbs or weeds; therefore let him seasonably waterthe one, and destroy the other.
Of Custom
AND EDUCATION
MEN'S thoughts, are much according to theirinclination; their discourse and speeches, according to their learning and infused opinions;but their deeds, are after as they have been accus-tomed. And therefore, as Machiavel well noteth(though in an evil-favored instance), there is notrusting to the force of nature, nor to the braveryof words, except it be corroborate by custom. Hisinstance is, that for the achieving of a desperateconspiracy, a man should not rest upon the fierce-ness of any man's nature, or his resolute under-takings; but take such an one, as hath had hishands formerly in blood. But Machiavel knew notof a Friar Clement, nor a Ravillac, nor a Jaureguy, nor a Baltazar Gerard; yet his rule holdeth still, that nature, nor the engagement of words, are notso forcible, as custom. Only superstition is now sowell advanced, that men of the first blood, are asfirm as butchers by occupation; and votary reso-lution, is made equipollent to custom, even in mat-ter of blood. In other things, the predominancy ofcustom is everywhere visible; insomuch as a manwould wonder, to hear men profess, protest, en-gage, give great words, and then do, just as theyhave done before; as if they were dead images, and engines moved only by the wheels of custom. We see also the reign or tyranny of custom, whatit is. The Indians (I mean the sect of their wise men)lay themselves quietly upon a stock of wood, andso sacrifice themselves by fire. Nay, the wivesstrive to be burned, with the corpses of their hus-bands. The lads of Sparta, of ancient time, werewont to be scourged upon the altar of Diana, with-out so much as queching. I remember, in the be-ginning of Queen Elizabeth's time of England, anIrish rebel condemned, put up a petition to thedeputy, that he might be hanged in a withe, andnot in an halter; because it had been so used, withformer rebels. There be monks in Russia, for pen-ance, that will sit a whole night in a vessel of water, till they be engaged with hard ice. Many examplesmay be put of the force of custom, both upon mindand body. Therefore, since custom is the principalmagistrate of man's life, let men by all means en-deavor, to obtain good customs. Certainly customis most perfect, when it beginneth in young years:this we call education; which is, in effect, but anearly custom. So we see, in languages, the tongueis more pliant to all expressions and sounds, thejoints are more supple, to all feats of activity andmotions, in youth than afterwards. For it is true, that late learners cannot so well take the ply; ex-cept it be in some minds, that have not sufferedthemselves to fix, but have kept themselves open, and prepared to receive continual amendment, which is exceeding rare. But if the force of cus-tom simple and separate, be great, the force ofcustom copulate and conjoined and collegiate, isfar greater. For there example teacheth, companycomforteth, emulation quickeneth, glory raiseth:so as in such places the force of custom is in hisexaltation. Certainly the great multiplication ofvirtues upon human nature, resteth upon socie-ties well ordained and disciplined. For common-wealths, and good governments, do nourish virtuegrown but do not much mend the deeds. But themisery is, that the most effectual means, are nowapplied to the ends, least to be desired.
Of Fortune
IT CANNOT be denied, but outward accidentsconduce much to fortune; favor, opportunity, death of others, occasion fitting virtue. But chiefly, the mould of a man's fortune is in his own hands. Faber quisque fortunae suae, saith the poet. Andthe most frequent of external causes is, that thefolly of one man, is the fortune of another. For noman prospers so suddenly, as by others' errors. Serpens nisi serpentem comederit non fit draco. Overt and apparent virtues, bring forth praise; butthere be secret and hidden virtues, that bring forthfortune; certain deliveries of a man's self, whichhave no name. The Spanish name, desemboltura, partly expresseth them; when there be not stondsnor restiveness in a man's nature; but that thewheels of his mind, keep way with the wheels ofhis fortune. For so Livy (after he had describedCato Major in these words, In illo viro tantum ro-bur corporis et animi fuit, ut quocunque loco natusesset, fortunam sibi facturus videretur) fallethupon that, that he had versatile ingenium. There-fore if a man look sharply and attentively, he shallsee Fortune: for though she be blind, yet she is notinvisible. The way of fortune, is like the MilkenWay in the sky; which is a meeting or knot of anumber of small stars; not seen asunder, but giv-ing light together. So are there a number oflittle, and scarce discerned virtues, or rather facul-ties and customs, that make men fortunate. TheItalians note some of them, such as a man wouldlittle think. When they speak of one that cannot doamiss, they will throw in, into his other conditions, that he hath Poco di matto. And certainly there benot two more fortunate properties, than to have alittle of the fool, and not too much of the honest. Therefore extreme lovers of their country ormasters, were never fortunate, neither can theybe. For when a man placeth his thoughts withouthimself, he goeth not his own way. An hasty for-tune maketh an enterpriser and remover (theFrench hath it better, entreprenant, or remuant);but the exercised fortune maketh the able man. Fortune is to be honored and respected, and it bebut for her daughters, Confidence and Reputation. For those two, Felicity breedeth; the first withina man's self, the latter in others towards him. Allwise men, to decline the envy of their own virtues, use to ascribe them to Providence and Fortune; forso they may the better assume them: and, besides, it is greatness in a man, to be the care of the higherpowers. So Caesar said to the pilot in the tempest, Caesarem portas, et fortunam ejus. So Sylla chosethe name of Felix, and not of Magnus. And it hathbeen noted, that those who ascribe openly toomuch to their own wisdom and policy, end infor-tunate. It is written that Timotheus the Athenian, after he had, in the account he gave to the state ofhis government, often interlaced this speech, andin this, Fortune had no part, never prospered inanything, he undertook afterwards. Certainlythere be, whose fortunes are like Homer's verses, that have a slide and easiness more than the versesof other poets; as Plutarch saith of Timoleon's for-tune, in respect of that of Agesilaus or Epaminon-das. And that this shoulld be, no doubt it is much, in a man's self.
Of Usury
MANY have made witty invectives againstusury. They say that it is a pity, the devilshould have God's part, which is the tithe. That theusurer is the greatest Sabbath-breaker, because hisplough goeth every Sunday. That the usurer is thedrone, that Virgil speaketh of;
Ignavum fucos pecus a praesepibus arcent.
That the usurer breaketh the first law, that wasmade for mankind after the fall, which was, insudore vultus tui comedes panem tuum; not, insudore vultus alieni. That usurers should haveorange-tawny bonnets, because they do judaize. That it is against nature for money to beget money;and the like. I say this only, that usury is a conces-sum propter duritiem cordis; for since there mustbe borrowing and lending, and men are so hardof heart, as they will not lend freely, usury mustbe permitted. Some others, have made suspiciousand cunning propositions of banks, discovery ofmen's estates, and other inventions. But few havespoken of usury usefully. It is good to set before us, the incommodities and commodities of usury, thatthe good, may be either weighed out or culled out;and warily to provide, that while we make forthto that which is better, we meet not with thatwhich is worse.
The discommodities of usury are, First, that itmakes fewer merchants. For were it not for thislazy trade of usury, money would not he still, butwould in great part be employed upon merchan-dizing; which is the vena porta of wealth in a state. The second, that it makes poor merchants. For, asa farmer cannot husband his ground so well, if hesit at a great rent; so the merchant cannot drivehis trade so well, if he sit at great usury. The thirdis incident to the other two; and that is the decay ofcustoms of kings or states, which ebb or flow, withmerchandizing. The fourth, that it bringeth thetreasure of a realm, or state, into a few hands. Forthe usurer being at certainties, and others at uncer-tainties, at the end of the game, most of the moneywill be in the box; and ever a state flourisheth, when wealth is more equally spread. The fifth, that it beats down the price of land; for the em-ployment of money, is chiefly either merchandiz-ing or purchasing; and usury waylays both. Thesixth, that it doth dull and damp all industries, im-provements, and new inventions, wherein moneywould be stirring, if it were not for this slug. Thelast, that it is the canker and ruin of many men'sestates; which, in process of time, breeds a publicpoverty.
On the other side, the commodities of usury are, first, that howsoever usury in some respect hinder-eth merchandizing, yet in some other it advancethit; for it is certain that the greatest part of trade isdriven by young merchants, upon borrowing atinterest; so as if the usurer either call in, or keepback, his money, there will ensue, presently, agreat stand of trade. The second is, that were it notfor this easy borrowing upon interest, men's neces-sities would draw upon them a most sudden un-doing; in that they would be forced to sell theirmeans (be it lands or goods) far under foot; and so, whereas usury doth but gnaw upon them, badmarkets would swallow them quite up. As formortgaging or pawning, it will little mend thematter: for either men will not take pawns with-out use; or if they do, they will look precisely forthe forfeiture. I remember a cruel moneyed manin the country, that would say, The devil take thisusury, it keeps us from forfeitures, of mortgagesand bonds. The third and last is, that it is a vanityto conceive, that there would be ordinary borrow-ing without profit; and it is impossible to conceive, the number of inconveniences that will ensue, ifborrowing be cramped. Therefore to speak of theabolishing of usury is idle. All states have ever hadit, in one kind or rate, or other. So as that opinionmust be sent to Utopia.
To speak now of the reformation, and reigle-ment, of usury; how the discommodities of it maybe best avoided, and the commodities retained. Itappears, by the balance of commodities and dis-commodities of usury, two things are to be recon-ciled. The one, that the tooth of usury be grinded, that it bite not too much; the other, that there beleft open a means, to invite moneyed men to lendto the merchants, for the continuing and quicken-ing of trade. This cannot be done, except you intro-duce two several sorts of usury, a less and a greater. For if you reduce usury to one low rate, it will easethe common borrower, but the merchant will beto seek for money. And it is to be noted, that thetrade of merchandize, being the most lucrative, may bear usury at a good rate; other contractsnot so.
To serve both intentions, the way would bebriefly thus. That there be two rates of usury:the one free, and general for all; the other underlicense only, to certain persons, and in certainplaces of merchandizing. First, therefore, let usuryin general, be reduced to five in the hundred; andlet that rate be proclaimed, to be free and current;and let the state shut itself out, to take any penaltyfor the same. This will preserve borrowing, fromany general stop or dryness. This will ease infiniteborrowers in the country. This will, in good part, raise the price of land, because land purchasedat sixteen years' purchase will yield six in thehundred, and somewhat more; whereas this rateof interest, yields but five. This by like reasonwill encourage, and edge, industrious and profit-able improvements; because many will ratherventure in that kind, than take five in the hun-dred, especially having been used to greater profit. Secondly, let there be certain persons licensed, to lend to known merchants, upon usury at ahigher rate; and let it be with the cautions fol-lowing. Let the rate be, even with the merchanthimself, somewhat more easy than that he usedformerly to pay; for by that means, all bor-rowers, shall have some ease by this reformation, be he merchant, or whosoever. Let it be nobank or common stock, but every man be masterof his own money. Not that I altogether mis-like banks, but they will hardly be brooked, inregard of certain suspicions. Let the state beanswered some small matter for the license, andthe rest left to the lender; for if the abatement bebut small, it will no whit discourage the lender. For he, for example, that took before ten or nine inthe hundred, will sooner descend to eight in thehundred than give over his trade of usury, and gofrom certain gains, to gains of hazard. Let theselicensed lenders be in number indefinite, but re-strained to certain principal cities and towns ofmerchandizing; for then they will be hardly ableto color other men's moneys in the country: so asthe license of nine will not suck away the currentrate of five; for no man will send his moneys faroff, nor put them into unknown hands.
If it be objected that this doth in a sort authorizeusury, which before, was in some places but per-missive; the answer is, that it is better to mitigateusury, by declaration, than to suffer it to rage, byconnivance.
Of Youth
AND AGE
A MAN that is young in years, may be old inhours, if he have lost no time. But that hap-peneth rarely. Generally, youth is like the firstcogitations, not so wise as the second. For there isa youth in thoughts, as well as in ages. And yet theinvention of young men, is more lively than thatof old; and imaginations stream into their mindsbetter, and, as it were, more divinely. Natures thathave much heat, and great and violent desires andperturbations, are not ripe for action, till they havepassed the meridian of their years; as it was withJulius Caesar and Septimius Severus. Of the latter, of whom it is said, Juventutem egit erroribus, imofuroribus, plenam. And yet he was the ablest em-peror, almost, of all the list. But reposed naturesmay do well in youth. As it is seen in AugustusCaesar, Cosmus Duke of Florence, Gaston de Foix, and others. On the other side, heat and vivacity inage, is an excellent composition for business. Young men are fitter to invent, than to judge; fitterfor execution, than for counsel; and fitter for newprojects, than for settled business. For the experi-ence of age, in things that fall within the compassof it, directeth them; but in new things, abuseththem.
The errors of young men, are the ruin of busi-ness; but the errors of aged men, amount but tothis, that more might have been done, or sooner. Young men, in the conduct and manage of actions, embrace more than they can hold; stir more thanthey can quiet; fly to the end, without considera-tion of the means and degrees; pursue somefew principles, which they have chanced uponabsurdly; care not to innovate, which draws un-known inconveniences; use extreme remedies atfirst; and, that which doubleth all errors, will notacknowledge or retract them; like an unreadyhorse, that will neither stop nor turn. Men of ageobject too much, consult too long, adventure toolittle, repent too soon, and seldom drive businesshome to the full period, but content themselveswith a mediocrity of success. Certainly it is good tocompound employments of both; for that will begood for the present, because the virtues of eitherage, may correct the defects of both; and good forsuccession, that young men may be learners, whilemen in age are actors; and, lastly, good for externaccidents, because authority followeth old men, and favor and popularity, youth. But for the moralpart, perhaps youth will have the pre-eminence, asage hath for the politic. A certain rabbin, upon thetext, Your young men shall see visions, and yourold men shall dream dreams, inferreth that youngmen, are admitted nearer to God than old, becausevision, is a clearer revelation, than a dream. Andcertainly, the more a man drinketh of the world, the more it intoxicateth; and age doth profit ratherin the powers of understanding, than in the virtuesof the will and affections. There be some, have anover-early ripeness in their years, which fadethbetimes. These are, first, such as have brittle wits, the edge whereof is soon turned; such as was Her-mogenes the rhetorician, whose books are exceed-ing subtle; who afterwards waxed stupid. A secondsort, is of those that have some natural dispositionswhich have better grace in youth, than in age;such as is a fluent and luxuriant speech; whichbecomes youth well, but not age: so Tully saith ofHortensius, Idem manebat, neque idem decebat. The third is of such, as take too high a strain at thefirst, and are magnanimous, more than tract ofyears can uphold. As was Scipio Africanus, ofwhom Livy saith in effect, Ultima primis cedebant.
Of Beauty
VIRTUE is like a rich stone, best plain set; andsurely virtue is best, in a body that is comely, though not of delicate features; and that hathrather dignity of presence, than beauty of aspect. Neither is it almost seen, that very beautiful per-sons are otherwise of great virtue; as if nature wererather busy, not to err, than in labor to produceexcellency. And therefore they prove accom-plished, but not of great spirit; and study ratherbehavior, than virtue. But this holds not always:for Augustus Caesar, Titus Vespasianus, Philip leBelle of France, Edward the Fourth of England, Alcibiades of Athens, Ismael the Sophy of Persia, were all high and great spirits; and yet the mostbeautiful men of their times. In beauty, that offavor, is more than that of color; and that of decentand gracious motion, more than that of favor. Thatis the best part of beauty, which a picture cannotexpress; no, nor the first sight of the life. There is noexcellent beauty, that hath not some strangenessin the proportion. A man cannot tell whetherApelles, or Albert Durer, were the more trifler;whereof the one, would make a personage by geo-metrical proportions; the other, by taking the bestparts out of divers faces, to make one excellent. Such personages, I think, would please nobody, but the painter that made them. Not but I think apainter may make a better face than ever was; buthe must do it by a kind of felicity (as a musicianthat maketh an excellent air in music), and not byrule. A man shall see faces, that if you examinethem part by part, you shall find never a good;and yet altogether do well. If it be true that theprincipal part of beauty is in decent motion, cer-tainly it is no marvel, though persons in yearsseem many times more amiable; pulchrorumautumnus pulcher; for no youth can be comelybut by pardon, and considering the youth, as tomake up the comeliness. Beauty is as summerfruits, ) which are easy to corrupt, and cannot last;and for the most part it makes a dissolute youth, and an age a little out of countenance; but yet cer-tainly again, if it light well, it maketh virtue shine, and vices blush.
Of Deformity
DEFORMED persons are commonly even withnature; for as nature hath done ill by them, so do they by nature; being for the most part (asthe Scripture saith) void of natural affection; andso they have their revenge of nature. Certainlythere is a consent, between the body and the mind;and where nature erreth in the one, she venturethin the other. Ubi peccat in uno, periclitatur in al-tero. But because there is, in man, an electiontouching the frame of his mind, and a necessity inthe frame of his body, the stars of natural inclina-tion are sometimes obscured, by the sun of disci-pline and virtue. Therefore it is good to consider ofdeformity, not as a sign, which is more deceivable;but as a cause, which seldom faileth of the effect. Whosoever hath anything fixed in his person, thatdoth induce contempt, hath also a perpetual spurin himself, to rescue and deliver himself fromscorn. Therefore all deformed persons, are extremebold. First, as in their own defence, as being ex-posed to scorn; but in process of time, by a generalhabit. Also it stirreth in them industry, and espe-cially of this kind, to watch and observe the weak-ness of others, that they may have somewhat torepay. Again, in their superiors, it quenchethjealousy towards them, as persons that they thinkthey may, at pleasure, despise: and it layeth theircompetitors and emulators asleep; as never believ-ing they should be in possibility of advancement, till they see them in possession. So that upon thematter, in a great wit, deformity is an advantageto rising. Kings in ancient times (and at this pres-ent in some countries) were wont to put great trustin eunuchs; because they that are envious towardsall are more obnoxious and officious, towards one. But yet their trust towards them, hath ratherbeen as to good spials, and good wbisperers, thangood magistrates and officers. And much like isthe reason of deformed persons. Still the groundis, they will, if they be of spirit, seek to free them-selves from scorn; which must be either by virtueor malice; and therefore let it not be marvelled, ifsometimes they prove excellent persons; as wasAgesilaus, Zanger the son of Solyman, AEsop, Gasca, President of Peru; and Socrates may golikewise amongst them; with others.
Of Building
HOUSES are built to live in, and not to look on;therefore let use be preferred before uni-formity, except where both may be had. Leavethe goodly fabrics of houses, for beauty only, tothe enchanted palaces of the poets; who build themwith small cost. He that builds a fair house, uponan ill seat, committeth himself to prison. Neitherdo I reckon it an ill seat, only where the air is un-wholesome; but likewise where the air is unequal;as you shall see many fine seats set upon a knap ofground, environed with higher hills round aboutit; whereby the heat of the sun is pent in, and thewind gathereth as in troughs; so as you shall have, and that suddenly, as great diversity of heat andcold as if you dwelt in several places. Neither is itill air only that maketh an ill seat, but ill ways, illmarkets; and, if you will consult with Momus, illneighbors. I speak not of many more; want ofwater; want of wood, shade, and shelter; want offruitfulness, and mixture of grounds of severalnatures; want of prospect; want of level grounds;want of places at some near distance for sports ofhunting, hawking, and races; too near the sea, tooremote; having the commodity of navigable rivers, or the discommodity of their overflowing; too faroff from great cities, which may hinder business, or too near them, which lurcheth all provisions, and maketh everything dear; where a man hatha great living laid together, and where he isscanted: all which, as it is impossible perhaps tofind together, so it is good to know them, and thinkof them, that a man may take as many as he can;and if he have several dwellings, that he sort themso that what he wanteth in the one, he may find inthe other. Lucullus answered Pompey well; who, when he saw his stately galleries, and rooms solarge and lightsome, in one of his houses, said, Surely an excellent place for summer, but how doyou in winter? Lucullus answered, Why, do younot think me as wise as some fowl are, that everchange their abode towards the winter?
To pass from the seat, to the house itself; we willdo as Cicero doth in the orator's art; who writesbooks De Oratore, and a book he entitles Orator;whereof the former, delivers the precepts of theart, and the latter, the perfection. We will there-fore describe a princely palace, making a briefmodel thereof. For it is strange to see, now inEurope, such huge buildings as the Vatican andEscurial and some others be, and yet scarce a veryfair room in them.
First, therefore, I say you cannot have a perfectpalace except you have two several sides; a side forthe banquet, as it is spoken of in the book of Hester, and a side for the household; the one for feasts andtriumphs, and the other for dwelling. I understandboth these sides to be not only returns, but partsof the front; and to be uniform without, thoughseverally partitioned within; and to be on bothsides of a great and stately tower, in the midst ofthe front, that, as it were, joineth them togetheron either hand. I would have on the side of the ban-quet, in front, one only goodly room above stairs, of some forty foot high; and under it a room for adressing, or preparing place, at times of triumphs. On the other side, which is the household side, Iwish it divided at the first, into a hall and a chapel(with a partition between); both of good state andbigness; and those not to go all the length, but tohave at the further end, a winter and a summerparlor, both fair. And under these rooms, a fairand large cellar, sunk under ground; and likewisesome privy kitchens, with butteries and pantries, and the like. As for the tower, I would have it twostories, of eighteen foot high apiece, above the twowings; and a goodly leads upon the top, railed withstatuas interposed; and the same tower to be di-vided into rooms, as shall be thought fit. The stairslikewise to the upper rooms, let them be upon afair open newel, and finely railed in, with imagesof wood, cast into a brass color; and a very fairlanding-place at the top. But this to be, if you donot point any of the lower rooms, for a dining placeof servants. For otherwise, you shall have the ser-vants' dinner after your own: for the steam of it, will come up as in a tunnel. And so much for thefront. Only I understand the height of the firststairs to be sixteen foot, which is the height of thelower room.
Beyond this front, is there to be a fair court, butthree sides of it, of a far lower building than thefront. And in all the four corners of that court, fairstaircases, cast into turrets, on the outside, and notwithin the row of buildings themselves. But thosetowers, are not to be of the height of the front, butrather proportionable to the lower building. Letthe court not be paved, for that striketh up a greatheat in summer, and much cold in winter. Butonly some side alleys, with a cross, and the quar-ters to graze, being kept shorn, but not too nearshorn. The row of return on the banquet side, let itbe all stately galleries: in which galleries let therebe three, or five, fine cupolas in the length of it, placed at equal distance; and fine colored windowsof several works. On the household side, chambersof presence and ordinary entertainments, withsome bed-chambers; and let all three sides be adouble house, without thorough lights on the sides, that you may have rooms from the sun, both forforenoon and afternoon. Cast it also, that you mayhave rooms, both for summer and winter; shadyfor summer, and warm for winter. You shall havesometimes fair houses so full of glass, that one can-not tell where to become, to be out of the sun orcold. For inbowed windows, I hold them of gooduse (in cities, indeed, upright do better, in respectof the uniformity towards the street); for they bepretty retiring places for conference; and besides, they keep both the wind and sun off; for thatwhich would strike almost through the room, dothscarce pass the window. But let them be but few, four in the court, on the sides only.
Beyond this court, let there be an inward court, of the same square and height; which is to be en-vironed with the garden on all sides; and in theinside, cloistered on all sides, upon decent andbeautiful arches, as high as the first story. On theunder story, towards the garden, let it be turnedto a grotto, or a place of shade, or estivation. Andonly have opening and windows towards the gar-den; and be level upon the floor, no whit sunkenunder ground, to avoid all dampishness. And letthere be a fountain, or some fair work of statuas, inthe midst of this court; and to be paved as the othercourt was. These buildings to be for privy lodgingson both sides; and the end for privy galleries. Whereof you must foresee that one of them be foran infirmary, if the prince or any special personshould be sick, with chambers, bed-chamber, ante-camera, and recamera joining to it. This upon thesecond story. Upon the ground story, a fair gallery, open, upon pillars; and upon the third story like-wise, an open gallery, upon pillars, to take theprospect and freshness of the garden. At both cor-ners of the further side, by way of return, let therebe two delicate or rich cabinets, daintily paved, richly hanged, glazed with crystalline glass, anda rich cupola in the midst; and all other elegancythat may be thought upon. In the upper gallerytoo, I wish that there may be, if the place will yieldit, some fountains running in divers places fromthe wall, with some fine avoidances. And thusmuch for the model of the palace; save that youmust have, before you come to the front, threecourts. A green court plain, with a wall about it;a second court of the same, but more garnished, with little turrets, or rather embellishments, uponthe wall; and a third court, to make a square withthe front, but not to be built, nor yet enclosed witha naked wall, but enclosed with terraces, leadedaloft, and fairly garnished, on the three sides; andcloistered on the inside, with pillars, and not witharches below. As for offices, let them stand at dis-tance, with some low galleries, to pass from themto the palace itself.
Of Gardens
G0D Almighty first planted a garden. Andindeed it is the purest of human pleasures. It is the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man;without which, buildings and palaces are butgross handiworks; and a man shall ever see, thatwhen ages grow to civility and elegancy, mencome to build stately sooner than to garden finely;as if gardening were the greater perfection. I dohold it, in the royal ordering of gardens, thereought to be gardens, for all the months in the year;in which severally things of beauty may be thenin season. For December, and January, and thelatter part of November, you must take such thingsas are green all winter: holly; ivy; bays; juniper;cypress-trees; yew; pine-apple-trees; fir-trees;rosemary; lavender; periwinkle, the white, thepurple, and the blue; germander; flags; orange-trees; lemon-trees; and myrtles, if they be stoved;and sweet marjoram, warm set. There followeth, for the latter part of January and February, themezereon-tree, which then blossoms; crocus ver-nus, both the yellow and the grey; primroses, anemones; the early tulippa; hyacinthus orien-talis; chamairis; fritellaria. For March, therecome violets, specially the single blue, which arethe earliest; the yellow daffodil; the daisy; thealmond-tree in blossom; the peach-tree in blos-som; the cornelian-tree in blossom; sweet-briar. In April follow the double white violet; the wall-flower; the stock-gilliflower; the cowslip; flower-delices, and lilies of all natures; rosemary-flowers;the tulippa; the double peony; the pale daffodil;the French honeysuckle; the cherry-tree in blos-som; the damson and plum-trees in blossom; thewhite thorn in leaf; the lilac-tree. In May andJune come pinks of all sorts, specially the blush-pink; roses of all kinds, except the musk, whichcomes later; honeysuckles; strawberries; bugloss;columbine; the French marigold, flos Africanus;cherry-tree in fruit; ribes; figs in fruit; rasps; vine-flowers; lavender in flowers; the sweet satyrian, with the white flower; herba muscaria; liliumconvallium; the apple-tree in blossom. In Julycome gilliflowers of all varieties; musk-roses; thelime-tree in blossom; early pears and plums infruit; jennetings, codlins. In August come plumsof all sorts in fruit; pears; apricocks; berberries;filberds; musk-melons; monks-hoods, of all colors. In September come grapes; apples; poppies ofall colors; peaches; melocotones; nectarines; cor-nelians; wardens; quinces. In October and thebeginning of November come services; medlars;bullaces; roses cut or removed to come late; holly-hocks; and such like. These particulars are for theclimate of London; but my meaning is perceived, that you may have ver perpetuum, as the placeaffords.
And because the breath of flowers is far sweeterin the air (where it comes and goes like the warb-ling of music) than in the hand, therefore nothingis more fit for that delight, than to know what bethe flowers and plants that do best perfume the air. Roses, damask and red, are fast flowers of theirsmells; so that you may walk by a whole row ofthem, and find nothing of their sweetness; yeathough it be in a morning's dew. Bays likewiseyield no smell as they grow. Rosemary little; norsweet marjoram. That which above all othersyields the sweetest smell in the air is the violet, specially the white double violet, which comestwice a year; about the middle of April, and aboutBartholomew-tide. Next to that is the musk-rose. Then the strawberry-leaves dying, which yield amost excellent cordial smell. Then the flower ofvines; it is a little dust, like the dust of a bent, whichgrows upon the cluster in the first coming forth. Then sweet-briar. Then wall-flowers, which arevery delightful to be set under a parlor or lowerchamber window. Then pinks and gilliflowers, especially the matted pink and clove gilliflower. Then the flowers of the lime-tree. Then the honey-suckles, so they be somewhat afar off. Of bean-flowers I speak not, because they are field flowers. But those which perfume the air most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but being trodden uponand crushed, are three; that is, burnet, wild-thyme, and watermints. Therefore you are to setwhole alleys of them, to have the pleasure whenyou walk or tread.
For gardens (speaking of those which are indeedprincelike, as we have done of buildings), the con-tents ought not well to be under thirty acres ofground; and to be divided into three parts; a greenin the entrance; a heath or desert in the goingforth; and the main garden in the midst; besidesalleys on both sides. And I like well that four acresof ground be assigned to the green; six to theheath; four and four to either side; and twelve tothe main garden. The green hath two pleasures:the one, because nothing is more pleasant to theeye than green grass kept finely shorn; the other, because it will give you a fair alley in the midst, bywhich you may go in front upon a stately hedge, which is to enclose the garden. But because thealley will be long, and, in great heat of the year orday, you ought not to buy the shade in the garden, by going in the sun through the green, thereforeyou are, of either side the green, to plant a covertalley upon carpenter's work, about twelve foot inheight, by which you may go in shade into thegarden. As for the making of knots or figures, withdivers colored earths, that they may lie under thewindows of the house on that side which the gar-den stands, they be but toys; you may see as goodsights, many times, in tarts. The garden is best tobe square, encompassed on all the four sides witha stately arched hedge. The arches to be upon pil-lars of carpenter's work, of some ten foot high, andsix foot broad; and the spaces between of the samedimension with the breadth of the arch. Over thearches let there be an entire hedge of some fourfoot high, framed also upon carpenter's work; andupon the upper hedge, over every arch, a little tur-ret, with a belly, enough to receive a cage of birds:and over every space between the arches someother little figure, with broad plates of round col-ored glass gilt, for the sun to play upon. But thishedge I intend to be raised upon a bank, not steep, but gently slope, of some six foot, set all withflowers. Also I understand, that this square of thegarden, should not be the whole breadth of theground, but to leave on either side, ground enoughfor diversity of side alleys; unto which the twocovert alleys of the green, may deliver you. Butthere must be no alleys with hedges, at either endof this great enclosure; not at the hither end, forletting your prospect upon this fair hedge fromthe green; nor at the further end, for letting yourprospect from the hedge, through the arches uponthe heath.
For the ordering of the ground, within the greathedge, I leave it to variety of device; advisingnevertheless, that whatsoever form you cast it into, first, it be not too busy, or full of work. Wherein I, for my part, do not like images cut out in juniperor other garden stuff; they be for children. Littlelow hedges, round, like welts, with some prettypyramids, I like well; and in some places, faircolumns upon frames of carpenter's work. I wouldalso have the alleys, spacious and fair. You mayhave closer alleys, upon the side grounds, but nonein the main garden. I wish also, in the very middle, a fair mount, with three ascents, and alleys, enough for four to walk abreast; which I wouldhave to be perfect circles, without any bulwarksor embossments; and the whole mount to be thirtyfoot high; and some fine banqueting-house, withsome chimneys neatly cast, and without too muchglass.
For fountains, they are a great beauty and re-freshment; but pools mar all, and make the gardenunwholesome, and full of flies and frogs. Foun-tains I intend to be of two natures: the one thatsprinkleth or spouteth water; the other a fair re-ceipt of water, of some thirty or forty foot square, but without fish, or slime, or mud. For the first, the ornaments of images gilt, or of marble, whichare in use, do well: but the main matter is so toconvey the water, as it never stay, either in thebowls or in the cistern; that the water be never byrest discolored, green or red or the like; or gatherany mossiness or putrefaction. Besides that, it is tobe cleansed every day by the hand. Also somesteps up to it, and some fine pavement about it, doth well. As for the other kind of fountain, whichwe may call a bathing pool, it may admit muchcuriosity and beauty; wherewith we will nottrouble ourselves: as, that the bottom be finelypaved, and with images; the sides likewise; andwithal embellished with colored glass, and suchthings of lustre; encompassed also with fine railsof low statuas. But the main point is the samewhich we mentioned in the former kind of foun-tain; which is, that the water be in perpetualmotion, fed by a water higher than the pool, anddelivered into it by fair spouts, and then dis-charged away under ground, by some equality ofbores, that it stay little. And for fine devices, ofarching water without spilling, and making it risein several forms (of feathers, drinking glasses, canopies, and the like), they be pretty things tolook on, but nothing to health and sweetness.
For the heath, which was the third part of ourplot, I wish it to be framed, as much as may be, toa natural wildness. Trees I would have none in it, but some thickets made only of sweet-briar andhoneysuckle, and some wild vine amongst; andthe ground set with violets, strawberries, andprimroses. For these are sweet, and prosper in theshade. And these to be in the heath, here and there, not in any order. I like also little heaps, in the na-ture of mole-hills (such as are in wild heaths), tobe set, some with wild thyme; some with pinks;some with germander, that gives a good flower tothe eye; some with periwinkle; some with violets;some with strawberries; some with cowslips; somewith daisies; some with red roses; some with liliumconvallium; some with sweet-williams red; somewith bear's-foot: and the like low flowers, beingwithal sweet and sightly. Part of which heaps, areto be with standards of little bushes pricked upontheir top, and part without. The standards to beroses; juniper; holly; berberries (but here andthere, because of the smell of their blossoms); redcurrants; gooseberries; rosemary; bays; sweet-briar; and such like. But these standards to be keptwith cutting, that they grow not out of course.
For the side grounds, you are to fill them withvariety of alleys, private, to give a full shade, someof them, wheresoever the sun be. You are to framesome of them, likewise, for shelter, that when thewind blows sharp you may walk as in a gallery. And those alleys must be likewise hedged at bothends, to keep out the wind; and these closer alleysmust be ever finely gravelled, and no grass, be-cause of going wet. In many of these alleys, like-wise, you are to set fruit-trees of all sorts; as wellupon the walls, as in ranges. And this would begenerally observed, that the borders wherein youplant your fruit-trees, be fair and large, and low, and not steep; and set with fine flowers, but thinand sparingly, lest they deceive the trees. At theend of both the side grounds, I would have a mountof some pretty height, leaving the wall of the en-closure breast high, to look abroad into the fields.
For the main garden, I do not deny, but thereshould be some fair alleys ranged on both sides, with fruit-trees; and some pretty tufts of fruit-trees, and arbors with seats, set in some decentorder; but these to be by no means set too thick; butto leave the main garden so as it be not close, butthe air open and free. For as for shade, I wouldhave you rest upon the alleys of the side grounds, there to walk, if you be disposed, in the heat of theyear or day; but to make account, that the maingarden is for the more temperate parts of the year;and in the heat of summer, for the morning andthe evening, or overcast days.
For aviaries, I like them not, except they be ofthat largeness as they may be turfed, and haveliving plants and bushes set in them; that the birdsmay have more scope, and natural nesting, andthat no foulness appear in the floor of the aviary. So I have made a platform of a princely garden, partly by precept, partly by drawing, not a model, but some general lines of it; and in this I havespared for no cost. But it is nothing for greatprinces, that for the most part taking advice withworkmen, with no less cost set their things to-gether; and sometimes add statuas and such thingsfor state and magnificence, but nothing to the truepleasure of a garden.
Of Negotiating
IT IS generally better to deal by speech than byletter; and by the mediation of a third than bya man's self. Letters are good, when a man woulddraw an answer by letter back again; or when itmay serve for a man's justification afterwards toproduce his own letter; or where it may be dangerto be interrupted, or heard by pieces. To deal inperson is good, when a man's face breedeth regard, as commonly with inferiors; or in tender cases, where a man's eye, upon the countenance of himwith whom he speaketh, may give him a directionhow far to go; and generally, where a man willreserve to himself liberty, either to disavow or toexpound. In choice of instruments, it is better tochoose men of a plainer sort, that are like to dothat, that is committed to them, and to report backagain faithfully the success, than those that arecunning, to contrive, out of other men's business, somewhat to grace themselves, and will help thematter in report for satisfaction's sake. Use alsosuch persons as affect the business, wherein theyare employed; for that quickeneth much; andsuch, as are fit for the matter; as bold men for ex-postulation, fair-spoken men for persuasion, craftymen for inquiry and observation, froward, andabsurd men, for business that doth not well bearout itself. Use also such as have been lucky, andprevailed before, in things wherein you have em-ployed them; for that breeds confidence, and theywill strive to maintain their prescription. It is bet-ter to sound a person, with whom one deals afaroff, than to fall upon the point at first; except youmean to surprise him by some short question. It isbetter dealing with men in appetite, than withthose that are where they would be. If a man dealwith another upon conditions, the start or first per-formance is all; which a man cannot reasonablydemand, except either the nature of the thing besuch, which must go before; or else a man canpersuade the other party, that he shall still needhim in some other thing; or else that he be countedthe honester man. All practice is to discover, or towork. Men discover themselves in trust, in passion, at unawares, and of necessity, when they wouldhave somewhat done, and cannot find an apt pre-text. If you would work any man, you must eitherknow his nature and fashions, and so lead him; orhis ends, and so persuade him; or his weakness anddisadvantages, and so awe him; or those that haveinterest in him, and so govern him. In dealing withcunning persons, we must ever consider their ends, to interpret their speeches; and it is good to saylittle to them, and that which they least look for. In all negotiations of difficulty, a man may notlook to sow and reap at once; but must preparebusiness, and so ripen it by degrees.
0f Followers
AND FRIENDS
COSTLY followers are not to be liked; lestwhile a man maketh his train longer, hemake his wings shorter. I reckon to be costly, notthem alone which charge the purse, but which arewearisome, and importune in suits. Ordinary fol-lowers ought to challenge no higher conditions, than countenance, recommendation, and protec-tion from wrongs. Factious followers are worse tobe liked, which follow not upon affection to him, with whom they range themselves, but upondiscontentment conceived against some other;whereupon commonly ensueth that ill intelli-gence, that we many times see between great per-sonages. Likewise glorious followers, who makethemselves as trumpets of the commendation ofthose they follow, are full of inconvenience; forthey taint business through want of secrecy; andthey export honor from a man, and make him areturn in envy. There is a kind of followers like-wise, which are dangerous, being indeed espials;which inquire the secrets of the house, and beartales of them, to others. Yet such men, many times, are in great favor; for they are officious, and com-monly exchange tales. The following by certainestates of men, answerable to that, which a greatperson himself professeth (as of soldiers, to himthat hath been employed in the wars, and the like), hath ever been a thing civil, and well taken, evenin monarchies; so it be without too much pompor popularity. But the most honorable kind of fol-lowing, is to be followed as one, that apprehendethto advance virtue, and desert, in all sorts of per-sons. And yet, where there is no eminent odds insufficiency, it is better to take with the more pass-able, than with the more able. And besides, tospeak truth, in base times, active men are of moreuse than virtuous. It is true that in government, itis good to use men of one rank equally: for to coun-tenance some extraordinarily, is to make theminsolent, and the rest discontent; because theymay claim a due. But contrariwise, in favor, touse men with much difference and election isgood; for it maketh the persons preferred morethankful, and the rest more officious: because all isof favor. It is good discretion, not to make too muchof any man at the first; because one cannot holdout that proportion. To be governed (as we call it)by one is not safe; for it shows softness, and givesa freedom, to scandal and disreputation; for those, that would not censure or speak ill of a man imme-diately, will talk more boldly of those that are sogreat with them, and thereby wound their honor. Yet to be distracted with many is worse; for itmakes men to be of the last impression, and full ofchange. To take advice of some few friends, is everhonorable; for lookers-on many times see morethan gamesters; and the vale best discovereth thehill. There is little friendship in the world, and leastof all between equals, which was wont to be mag-nified. That that is, is between superior and in-ferior, whose fortunes may comprehend the onethe other.
Of Suitors
MANY ill matters and projects are under-taken; and private suits do putrefy the pub-lic good. Many good matters, are undertaken withbad minds; I mean not only corrupt minds, butcrafty minds, that intend not performance. Someembrace suits, which never mean to deal effectu-ally in them; but if they see there may be life inthe matter, by some other mean, they will be con-tent to win a thank, or take a second reward, or atleast to make use, in the meantime, of the suitor'shopes. Some take hold of suits, only for an occa-sion to cross some other; or to make an informa-tion, whereof they could not otherwise have aptpretext; without care what become of the suit, when that turn is served; or, generally, to makeother men's business a kind of entertainment, tobring in their own. Nay, some undertake suits, with a full purpose to let them fall; to the end togratify the adverse party, or competitor. Surelythere is in some sort a right in every suit; either aright of equity, if it be a suit of controversy; or aright of desert, if it be a suit of petition. If affectionlead a man to favor the wrong side in justice, lethim rather use his countenance to compound thematter, than to carry it. If affection lead a manto favor the less worthy in desert, let him do it, without depraving or disabling the better deserver. In suits which a man doth not well understand, itis good to refer them to some friend of trust andjudgment, that may report, whether he may dealin them with honor: but let him choose well hisreferendaries, for else he may be led by the nose. Suitors are so distasted with delays and abuses, that plain dealing, in denying to deal in suits atfirst, and reporting the success barely, and in chal-lenging no more thanks than one hath deserved, is grown not only honorable, but also gracious. Insuits of favor, the first coming ought to take littleplace: so far forth, consideration may be had ofhis trust, that if intelligence of the matter couldnot otherwise have been had, but by him, advan-tage be not taken of the note, but the party left tohis other means; and in some sort recompensed, for his discovery. To be ignorant of the value of asuit, is simplicity; as well as to be ignorant of theright thereof, is want of conscience. Secrecy insuits, is a great mean of obtaining; for voicingthem to be in forwardness, may discourage somekind of suitors, but doth quicken and awake others. But timing of the suit is the principal. Timing, Isay, not only in respect of the person that shouldgrant it, but in respect of those, which are like tocross it. Let a man, in the choice of his mean, ratherchoose the fittest mean, than the greatest mean;and rather them that deal in certain things, thanthose that are general. The reparation of a denial, is sometimes equal to the first grant; if a manshow himself neither dejected nor discontented. Iniquum petas ut aequum feras is a good rule, where a man hath strength of favor: but other-wise, a man were better rise in his suit; forhe, that would have ventured at first to have lostthe suitor, will not in the conclusion lose both thesuitor, and his own former favor. Nothing isthought so easy a request to a great person, as hisletter; and yet, if it be not in a good cause, it is somuch out of his reputation. There are no worseinstruments, than these general contrivers of suits;for they are but a kind of poison, and infection, topublic proceedings.
Of Studies
STUDIES serve for delight, for ornament, andfor ability. Their chief use for delight, is inprivateness and retiring; for ornament, is in dis-course; and for ability, is in the judgment, anddisposition of business. For expert men can exe-cute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by one;but the general counsels, and the plots and mar-shalling of affairs, come best, from those that arelearned. To spend too much time in studies is sloth;to use them too much for ornament, is affectation;to make judgment wholly by their rules, is thehumor of a scholar. They perfect nature, and areperfected by experience: for natural abilities arelike natural plants, that need proyning, by study;and studies themselves, do give forth directions toomuch at large, except they be bounded in by ex-perience. Crafty men contemn studies, simple menadmire them, and wise men use them; for theyteach not their own use; but that is a wisdom with-out them, and above them, won by observation. Read not to contradict and confute; nor to believeand take for granted; nor to find talk and dis-course; but to weigh and consider. Some books areto be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some fewto be chewed and digested; that is, some books areto be read only in parts; others to be read, but notcuriously; and some few to be read wholly, andwith diligence and attention. Some books also maybe read by deputy, and extracts made of them byothers; but that would be only in the less impor-tant arguments, and the meaner sort of books, elsedistilled books are like common distilled waters, flashy things. Reading maketh a full man; confer-ence a ready man; and writing an exact man. Andtherefore, if a man write little, he had need havea great memory; if he confer little, he had needhave a present wit: and if he read little, he hadneed have much cunning, to seem to know, thathe doth not. Histories make men wise; poets witty;the mathematics subtile; natural philosophy deep;moral grave; logic and rhetoric able to contend. Abeunt studia in mores. Nay, there is no stond orimpediment in the wit, but may be wrought outby fit studies; like as diseases of the body, mayhave appropriate exercises. Bowling is good forthe stone and reins; shooting for the lungs andbreast; gentle walking for the stomach; riding forthe head; and the like. So if a man's wit be wan-dering, let him study the mathematics; for indemonstrations, if his wit be called away never solittle, he must begin again. If his wit be not apt todistinguish or find differences, let him study theSchoolmen; for they are cymini sectores. If he benot apt to beat over matters, and to call up onething to prove and illustrate another, let him study 197the lawyers' cases. So every defect of the mind, may have a special receipt.
Of Faction
MANY have an opinion not wise, that for aprince to govern his estate, or for a greatperson to govern his proceedings, according to therespect of factions, is a principal part of policy;whereas contrariwise, the chiefest wisdom, iseither in ordering those things which are general, and wherein men of several factions do neverthe-less agree; or in dealing with correspondence toparticular persons, one by one. But I say not thatthe considerations of factions, is to be neglected. Mean men, in their rising, must adhere; butgreat men, that have strength in themselves, werebetter to maintain themselves indifferent, andneutral. Yet even in beginners, to adhere so moder-ately, as he be a man of the one faction, which ismost passable with the other, commonly givethbest way. The lower and weaker faction, is thefirmer in conjunction; and it is often seen, that afew that are stiff, do tire out a greater number, thatare more moderate. When one of the factions is ex-tinguished, the remaining subdivideth; as thefaction between Lucullus, and the rest of thenobles of the senate (which they called Optimates)held out awhile, against the faction of Pompeyand Caesar; but when the senate's authority waspulled down, Caesar and Pompey soon after brake. The faction or party of Antonius and OctavianusCaesar, against Brutus and Cassius, held out like-wise for a time; but when Brutus and Cassius wereoverthrown, then soon after, Antonius and Octa-vianus brake and subdivided. These examples areof wars, but the same holdeth in private factions. And therefore, those that are seconds in factions, do many times, when the faction subdivideth, prove principals; but many times also, they proveciphers and cashiered; for many a man's strengthis in opposition; and when that faileth, he growethout of use. It is commonly seen, that men, onceplaced, take in with the contrary faction, to thatby which they enter: thinking belike, that theyhave the first sure, and now are ready for a newpurchase. The traitor in faction, lightly goethaway with it; for when matters have stuck long inbalancing, the winning of some one man casteththem, and he getteth all the thanks. The even car-riage between two factions, proceedeth not alwaysof moderation, but of a trueness to a man's self, with end to make use of both. Certainly in Italy, they hold it a little suspect in popes, when theyhave often in their mouth Padre commune: andtake it to be a sign of one, that meaneth to refer allto the greatness of his own house. Kings had needbeware, how they side themselves, and makethemselves as of a faction or party; for leagueswithin the state, are ever pernicious to monarchies:for they raise an obligation, paramount to obliga-tion of sovereignty, and make the king tanquamunus ex nobis; as was to be seen in the League ofFrance. When factions are carried too high and tooviolently, it is a sign of weakness in princes; andmuch to the prejudice, both of their authority andbusiness. The motions of factions under kingsought to be, like the motions (as the astronomersspeak) of the inferior orbs, which may have theirproper motions, but yet still are quietly carried, bythe higher motion of primum mobile.
Of Ceremonies, AND RESPECTS
HE THAT is only real, had need have exceed-ing great parts of virtue; as the stone hadneed to be rich, that is set without foil. But if aman mark it well, it is, in praise and commenda-tion of men, as it is in gettings and gains: for theproverb is true, That light gains make heavypurses; for light gains come thick, whereas great, come but now and then. So it is true, that smallmatters win great commendation, because theyare continually in use and in note: whereas theoccasion of any great virtue, cometh but on festi-vals. Therefore it doth much add to a man's reputa-tion, and is (as Queen Isabella said) like perpetualletters commendatory, to have good forms. To at-tain them, it almost sufficeth not to despise them;for so shall a man observe them in others; and lethim trust himself with the rest. For if he labor toomuch to express them, he shall lose their grace;which is to be natural and unaffected. Some men'sbehavior is like a verse, wherein every syllable ismeasured; how can a man comprehend great mat-ters, that breaketh his mind too much, to smallobservations? Not to use ceremonies at all, is toteach others not to use them again; and so dimin-isheth respect to himself; especially they be not tobe omitted, to strangers and formal natures; butthe dwelling upon them, and exalting them abovethe moon, is not only tedious, but doth diminishthe faith and credit of him that speaks. And cer-tainly, there is a kind of conveying, of effectualand imprinting passages amongst compliments, which is of singular use, if a man can hit upon it. Amongst a man's peers, a man shall be sure offamiliarity; and therefore it is good, a little to keepstate. Amongst a man's inferiors one shall be sureof reverence; and therefore it is good, a little to befamiliar. He that is too much in anything, so thathe giveth another occasion of satiety, maketh him-self cheap. To apply one's self to others, is good; soit be with demonstration, that a man doth it uponregard, and not upon facility. It is a good preceptgenerally, in seconding another, yet to add some-what of one's own: as if you will grant his opinion, let it be with some distinction; if you will followhis motion, let it be with condition; if you allowhis counsel, let it be with alleging further reason. Men had need beware, how they be too perfect incompliments; for be they never so sufficient other-wise, their enviers will be sure to give them thatattribute, to the disadvantage of their greater vir-tues. It is loss also in business, to be too full of re-spects, or to be curious, in observing times andopportunities. Solomon saith, He that considereththe wind, shall not sow, and he that looketh tothe clouds, shall not reap. A wise man will makemore opportunities, than he finds. Men's behaviorshould be, like their apparel, not too strait or pointdevice, but free for exercise or motion.
Of Praise
PRAISE is the reflection of virtue; but it is asthe glass or body, which giveth the reflec-tion. If it be from the common people, it is com-monly false and naught; and rather followeth vainpersons, than virtuous. For the common peopleunderstand not many excellent virtues. The lowestvirtues draw praise from them; the middle virtueswork in them astonishment or admiration; but ofthe highest virtues, they have no sense of perceiv-ing at all. But shows, and species virtutibus similes, serve best with them. Certainly fame is like a river, that beareth up things light and swoln, and drownsthings weighty and solid. But if persons of qualityand judgment concur, then it is (as the Scripturesaith) nomen bonum instar unguenti fragrantis. It fireth all round about, and will not easily away. For the odors of ointments are more durable, thanthose of flowers. There be so many false points ofpraise, that a man may justly hold it a suspect. Some praises proceed merely of flattery; and if hebe an ordinary flatterer, he will have certain com-mon attributes, which may serve every man; if hebe a cunning flatterer, he will follow the arch-flatterer, which is a man's self; and wherein a manthinketh best of himself, therein the flatterer willuphold him most: but if he be an impudent flat-terer, look wherein a man is conscious to himself, that he is most defective, and is most out of counte-nance in himself, that will the flatterer entitle himto perforce, spreta conscientia. Some praises comeof good wishes and respects, which is a form due, incivility, to kings and great persons, laudandopraecipere, when by telling men what they are, they represent to them, what they should be. Somemen are praised maliciously, to their hurt, therebyto stir envy and jealousy towards them: pessimumgenus inimicorum laudantium; insomuch as itwas a proverb, amongst the Grecians, that he thatwas praised to his hurt, should have a push riseupon his nose; as we say, that a blister will riseupon one's tongue, that tells a lie. Certainly mod-erate praise, used with opportunity, and not vul-gar, is that which doth the good. Solomon saith, He that praiseth his friend aloud, rising early, itshall be to him no better than a curse. Too muchmagnifying of man or matter, doth irritate con-tradiction, and procure envy and scorn. To praisea man's self, cannot be decent, except it be in rarecases; but to praise a man's office or profession, hemay do it with good grace, and with a kind of mag-nanimity. The cardinals of Rome, which are theo-logues, and friars, and Schoolmen, have a phraseof notable contempt and scorn towards civil busi-ness: for they call all temporal business of wars, embassages, judicature, and other employments, sbirrerie, which is under-sheriffries; as if theywere but matters, for under-sheriffs and catch-poles: though many times those under-sheriffriesdo more good, than their high speculations. St. Paul, when he boasts of himself, he doth oft inter-lace, I speak like a fool; but speaking of his calling, he saith, magnificabo apostolatum meum.
Of Vain-glory
IT WAS prettily devised of AEsop, The fly satupon the axle-tree of the chariot wheel, andsaid, What a dust do I raise! So are there some vainpersons, that whatsoever goeth alone, or movethupon greater means, if they have never so littlehand in it, they think it is they that carry it. Theythat are glorious, must needs be factious; for allbravery stands upon comparisons. They mustneeds be violent, to make good their own vaunts. Neither can they be secret, and therefore not ef-fectual; but according to the French proverb, Beaucoup de bruit, peu de fruit; Much bruit littlefruit. Yet certainly, there is use of this quality incivil affairs. Where there is an opinion and fame tobe created, either of virtue or greatness, these menare good trumpeters. Again, as Titus Livius noteth, in the case of Antiochus and the AEtolians, Thereare sometimes great effects, of cross lies; as if aman, that negotiates between two princes, to drawthem to join in a war against the third, doth extolthe forces of either of them, above measure, theone to the other: and sometimes he that deals be-tween man and man, raiseth his own credit withboth, by pretending greater interest than he hathin either. And in these and the like kinds, it oftenfalls out, that somewhat is produced of nothing;for lies are sufficient to breed opinion, and opinionbrings on substance. In militar commanders andsoldiers, vain-glory is an essential point; for asiron sharpens iron, so by glory, one courage sharp-eneth another. In cases of great enterprise uponcharge and adventure, a composition of gloriousnatures, doth put life into business; and those thatare of solid and sober natures, have more of theballast, than of the sail. In fame of learning, theflight will be slow without some feathers of osten-tation. Qui de contemnenda gloria libros scri-bunt, nomen, suum inscribunt. Socrates, Aristotle, Galen, were men full of ostentation. Certainlyvain-glory helpeth to perpetuate a man's memory;and virtue was never so beholding to human na-ture, as it received his due at the second hand. Neither had the fame of Cicero, Seneca, PliniusSecundus, borne her age so well, if it had not beenjoined with some vanity in themselves; like untovarnish, that makes ceilings not only shine butlast. But all this while, when I speak of vain-glory, I mean not of that property, that Tacitus doth at-tribute to Mucianus; Omnium quae dixerat fece-ratque arte quadam ostentator: for that proceedsnot of vanity, but of natural magnanimity anddiscretion; and in some persons, is not only comely, but gracious. For excusations, cessions, modestyitself well governed, are but arts of ostentation. And amongst those arts, there is none better thanthat which Plinius Secundus speaketh of, which isto be liberal of praise and commendation to others, in that, wherein a man's self hath any perfection. For saith Pliny, very wittily, In commendinganother, you do yourself right; for he that youcommend, is either superior to you in that youcommend, or inferior. If he be inferior, if he be tobe commended, you much more; if he be superior, if he be not to be commended, you much less. Glorious men are the scorn of wise men, the ad-miration of fools, the idols of parasites, and theslaves of their own vaunts.
Of HonorAND REPUTATION
THE winning of honor, is but the revealing ofa man, s virtue and worth, without disadvan-tage. For some in their actions, do woo and effecthonor and reputation, which sort of men, arecommonly much talked of, but inwardly littleadmired. And some, contrariwise, darken theirvirtue in the show of it; so as they be undervaluedin opinion. If a man perform that, which hath notbeen attempted before; or attempted and givenover; or hath been achieved, but not with so goodcircumstance; he shall purchase more honor, thanby effecting a matter of greater difficulty or virtue, wherein he is but a follower. If a man so temperhis actions, as in some one of them he doth contentevery faction, or combination of people, the musicwill be the fuller. A man is an ill husband of bishonor, that entereth into any action, the failingwherein may disgrace him, more than the carry-ing of it through, can honor him. Honor that isgained and broken upon another, hath the quick-est reflection, like diamonds cut with facets. Andtherefore, let a man contend to excel any competi-tors of his in honor, in outshooting them, if he can, in their own bow. Discreet followers and servants, help much to reputation. Omnis fama a domesticisemanat. Envy, which is the canker of honor, isbest extinguished by declaring a man's self inhis ends, rather to seek merit than fame; and byattributing a man's successes, rather to divineProvidence and felicity, than to his own virtue orpolicy.
The true marshalling of the degrees of sovereignhonor, are these: In the first place are conditoresimperiorum, founders of states and common-wealths; such as were Romulus, Cyrus, Caesar, Ottoman, Ismael. In the second place are legis-latores, lawgivers; which are also called secondfounders, or perpetui principes, because they gov-ern by their ordinances after they are gone; suchwere Lycurgus, Solon, Justinian, Eadgar, Alphon-sus of Castile, the Wise, that made the Siete Parti-das. In the third place are liberatores, or salvatores, such as compound the long miseries of civilwars, or deliver their countries from servitude ofstrangers or tyrants; as Augustus Caesar, Vespasi-anus, Aurelianus, Theodoricus, King Henry theSeventh of England, King Henry the Fourth ofFrance. In the fourth place are propagatores orpropugnatores imperii; such as in honorable warsenlarge their territories, or make noble defenceagainst invaders. And in the last place are patrespatriae; which reign justly, and make the timesgood wherein they live. Both which last kinds needno examples, they are in such number. Degrees ofhonor, in subjects, are, first participes curarum, those upon whom, princes do discharge the great-est weight of their affairs; their right hands, aswe call them. The next are duces belli, great leadersin war; such as are princes' lieutenants, and dothem notable services in the wars. The third aregratiosi, favorites; such as exceed not this scant-ling, to be solace to the sovereign, and harmless tothe people. And the fourth, negotiis pares; such ashave great places under princes, and execute theirplaces, with sufficiency. There is an honor, like-wise, which may be ranked amongst the greatest, which happeneth rarely; that is, of such as sacri-fice themselves to death or danger for the good oftheir country; as was M. Regulus, and the twoDecii.
Of Judicature
JUDGES ought to remember, that their office isjus dicere, and not jus dare; to interpret law, and not to make law, or give law. Else will it belike the authority, claimed by the Church of Rome, which under pretext of exposition of Scripture, doth not stick to add and alter; and to pronouncethat which they do not find; and by show of an-tiquity, to introduce novelty. Judges ought to bemore learned, than witty, more reverend, thanplausible, and more advised, than confident. Aboveall things, integrity is their portion and propervirtue. Cursed (saith the law) is he that removeththe landmark. The mislayer of a mere-stone is toblame. But it is the unjust judge, that is the capitalremover of landmarks, when he defineth amiss, oflands and property. One foul sentence doth morehurt, than many foul examples. For these do butcorrupt the stream, the other corrupteth the foun-tain. So with Solomon, Fons turbatus, et venacorrupta, est justus cadens in causa sua coramadversario. The office of judges may have referenceunto the parties that use, unto the advocates thatplead, unto the clerks and ministers of justiceunderneath them, and to the sovereign or stateabove them.
First, for the causes or parties that sue. There be(saith the Scripture) that turn judgment, intowormwood; and surely there be also, that turn itinto vinegar; for injustice maketh it bitter, anddelays make it sour. The principal duty of a judge, is to suppress force and fraud; whereof force is themore pernicious, when it is open, and fraud, whenit is close and disguised. Add thereto contentioussuits, which ought to be spewed out, as the surfeitof courts. A judge ought to prepare his way to ajust sentence, as God useth to prepare his way, byraising valleys and taking down hills: so whenthere appeareth on either side an high hand, vio-lent prosecution, cunning advantages taken, com-bination, power, great counsel, then is the virtueof a judge seen, to make inequality equal; that hemay plant his judgment as upon an even ground. Qui fortiter emungit, elicit sanguinem; and wherethe wine-press is hard wrought, it yields a harshwine, that tastes of the grape-stone. Judges mustbeware of hard constructions, and strained infer-ences; for there is no worse torture, than the tor-ture of laws. Specially in case of laws penal, theyought to have care, that that which was meant forterror, be not turned into rigor; and that theybring not upon the people, that shower whereofthe Scripture speaketh, Pluet super eos laqueos;for penal laws pressed, are a shower of snares uponthe people. Therefore let penal laws, if they havebeen sleepers of long, or if they be grown unfit forthe present time, be by wise judges confined in theexecution: Judicis officium est, ut res, ita temporarerum, etc. In causes of life and death, judges ought(as far as the law permitteth) in justice to remem-ber mercy; and to cast a severe eye upon theexample, but a merciful eye upon the person.
Secondly, for the advocates and counsel thatplead. Patience and gravity of hearing, is an essen-tial part of justice; and an overspeaking judge is nowell-tuned cymbal. It is no grace to a judge, firstto find that, which he might have heard in duetime from the bar; or to show quickness of conceit, in cutting off evidence or counsel too short; or toprevent information by questions, though perti-nent. The parts of a judge in hearing, are four: todirect the evidence; to moderate length, repetition, or impertinency of speech; to recapitulate, select, and collate the material points, of that which hathbeen said; and to give the rule or sentence. What-soever is above these is too much; and proceedetheither of glory, and willingness to speak, or of im-patience to hear, or of shortness of memory, or ofwant of a staid and equal attention. It is a strangething to see, that the boldness of advocates shouldprevail with judges; whereas they should imitateGod, in whose seat they sit; who represseth the pre-sumptuous, and giveth grace to the modest. But itis more strange, that judges should have notedfavorites; which cannot but cause multiplicationof fees, and suspicion of by-ways. There is due fromthe judge to the advocate, some commendationand gracing, where causes are well handled andfair pleaded; especially towards the side whichobtaineth not; for that upholds in the client, thereputation of his counsel, and beats down in himthe conceit of his cause. There is likewise due to thepublic, a civil reprehension of advocates, wherethere appeareth cunning counsel, gross neglect, slight information, indiscreet pressing, or an over-bold defence. And let not the counsel at the bar, chop with the judge, nor wind himself into thehandling of the cause anew, after the judge hathdeclared his sentence; but, on the other side, letnot the judge meet the cause half way, nor giveoccasion to the party, to say his counsel or proofswere not heard.
Thirdly, for that that concerns clerks and minis-ters. The place of justice is an hallowed place; andtherefore not only the bench, but the foot-place;and precincts and purprise thereof, ought to bepreserved without scandal and corruption. Forcertainly grapes (as the Scripture saith) will notbe gathered of thorns or thistles; either can justiceyield her fruit with sweetness, amongst the briarsand brambles of catching and polling clerks, andministers. The attendance of courts, is subject tofour bad instruments. First, certain persons thatare sowers of suits; which make the court swell, and the country pine. The second sort is of those, that engage courts in quarrels of jurisdiction, andare not truly amici curiae, but parasiti curiae, inpuffing a court up beyond her bounds, for theirown scraps and advantage. The third sort, is ofthose that may be accounted the left hands ofcourts; persons that are full of nimble and sinistertricks and shifts, whereby they pervert the plainand direct courses of courts, and bring justice intooblique lines and labyrinths. And the fourth, is thepoller and exacter of fees; which justifies the com-mon resemblance of the courts of justice, to thebush whereunto, while the sheep flies for defencein weather, he is sure to lose part of his fleece. Onthe other side, an ancient clerk, skilful in prece-dents, wary in proceeding, and understanding inthe business of the court, is an excellent finger ofa court; and doth many times point the way to thejudge himself.
Fourthly, for that which may concern the sov-ereign and estate. Judges ought above all to re-member the conclusion of the Roman TwelveTables; Salus populi suprema lex; and to knowthat laws, except they be in order to that end, arebut things captious, and oracles not well inspired. Therefore it is an happy thing in a state, whenkings and states do often consult with judges; andagain, when judges do often consult with the kingand state: the one, when there is matter of law, intervenient in business of state; the other, whenthere is some consideration of state, intervenientin matter of law. For many times the things de-duced to judgment may be meum and tuum, whenthe reason and consequence thereof may trench topoint of estate: I call matter of estate, not only theparts of sovereignty, but whatsoever introducethany great alteration, or dangerous precedent; orconcerneth manifestly any great portion of peo-ple. And let no man weakly conceive, that justlaws and true policy have any antipathy; for theyare like the spirits and sinews, that one moves withthe other. Let judges also remember, that Solo-mon's throne was supported by lions on both sides:let them be lions, but yet lions under the throne;being circumspect that they do not check or opposeany points of sovereignty. Let not judges also beignorant of their own right, as to think there is notleft to them, as a principal part of their office, awise use and application of laws. For they mayremember, what the apostle saith of a greater lawthan theirs; Nos scimus quia lex bona est, modoquis ea utatur legitime.
Of Anger
TO SEEK to extinguish anger utterly, is but abravery of the Stoics. We have better oracles:Be angry, but sin not. Let not the sun go downupon your anger. Anger must be limited and con-fined, both in race and in time. We will first speakhow the natural inclination and habit to be angry, may be attempted and calmed. Secondly, how theparticular motions of anger may be repressed, orat least refrained from doing mischief. Thirdly, how to raise anger, or appease anger in another.
For the first; there is no other way but to medi-tate, and ruminate well upon the effects of anger, how it troubles man's life. And the best time to dothis, is to look back upon anger, when the fit isthoroughly over. Seneca saith well, That anger islike ruin, which breaks itself upon that it falls. The Scripture exhorteth us to possess our souls inpatience. Whosoever is out of patience, is out ofpossession of his soul. Men must not turn bees;
... Animasque in vulnere ponunt.
Anger is certainly a kind of baseness; as it ap-pears well in the weakness of those subjects inwhom it reigns; children, women, old folks, sickfolks. Only men must beware, that they carrytheir anger rather with scorn, than with fear; sothat they may seem rather to be above the injury, than below it; which is a thing easily done, if aman will give law to himself in it.
For the second point; the causes and motives ofanger, are chiefly three. First, to be too sensible ofhurt; for no man is angry, that feels not himselfhurt; and therefore tender and delicate personsmust needs be oft angry; they have so many thingsto trouble them, which more robust natures havelittle sense of. The next is, the apprehension andconstruction of the injury offered, to be, in the cir-cumstances thereof, full of contempt: for contemptis that, which putteth an edge upon anger, as muchor more than the hurt itself. And therefore, whenmen are ingenious in picking out circumstances ofcontempt, they do kindle their anger much. Lastly, opinion of the touch of a man's reputation, dothmultiply and sharpen anger. Wherein the remedyis, that a man should have, as Consalvo was wontto say, telam honoris crassiorem. But in all refrain-ings of anger, it is the best remedy to win time;and to make a man's self believe, that the oppor-tunity of his revenge is not yet come, but that heforesees a time for it; and so to still himself in themeantime, and reserve it.
To contain anger from mischief, though it takehold of a man, there be two things, whereof youmust have special caution. The one, of extreme bit-terness of words, especially if they be aculeate andproper; for cummunia maledicta are nothing somuch; and again, that in anger a man reveal nosecrets; for that, makes him not fit for society. Theother, that you do not peremptorily break off, inany business, in a fit of anger; but howsoever youshow bitterness, do not act anything, that is notrevocable.
For raising and appeasing anger in another; itis done chiefly by choosing of times, when menare frowardest and worst disposed, to incensethem. Again, by gathering (as was touched before)all that you can find out, to aggravate the con-tempt. And the two remedies are by the contraries. The former to take good times, when first to relateto a man an angry business; for the first impres-sion is much; and the other is, to sever, as much asmay be, the construction of the injury from thepoint of contempt; imputing it to misunderstand-ing, fear, passion, or what you will.
Of VicissitudeOF THINGS
SOLOMON saith, There is no new thing uponthe earth. So that as Plato had an imagination, That all knowledge was but remembrance; soSolomon giveth his sentence, That all novelty isbut oblivion. Whereby you may see, that the riverof Lethe runneth as well above ground as below. There is an abstruse astrologer that saith, If it werenot for two things that are constant (the one is, that the fixed stars ever stand a like distance onefrom another, and never come nearer together, norgo further asunder; the other, that the diurnalmotion perpetually keepeth time), no individualwould last one moment. Certain it is, that the mat-ter is in a perpetual flux, and never at a stay. Thegreat winding-sheets, that bury all things in ob-livion, are two; deluges and earthquakes. As forconflagrations and great droughts, they do notmerely dispeople and destroy. Phaeton's car wentbut a day. And the three years' drought in the timeof Elias, was but particular, and left people alive. As for the great burnings by lightnings, which areoften in the West Indies, they are but narrow. Butin the other two destructions, by deluge and earth-quake, it is further to be noted, that the remnantof people which hap to be reserved, are commonlyignorant and mountainous people, that can giveno account of the time past; so that the oblivion isall one, as if none had been left. If you considerwell of the people of the West Indies, it is veryprobable that they are a newer or a younger peo-ple, than the people of the Old World. And it ismuch more likely, that the destruction that hathheretofore been there, was not by earthquakes (asthe Egyptian priest told Solon concerning theisland of Atlantis, that it was swallowed by anearthquake), but rather that it was desolated by aparticular deluge. For earthquakes are seldom inthose parts. But on the other side, they have suchpouring rivers, as the rivers of Asia and Africk andEurope, are but brooks to them. Their Andes, like-wise, or mountains, are far higher than those withus; whereby it seems, that the remnants of gen-eration of men, were in such a particular delugesaved. As for the observation that Machiavel hath, that the jealousy of sects, doth much extinguishthe memory of things; traducing Gregory theGreat, that he did what in him lay, to extinguishall heathen antiquities; I do not find that thosezeals do any great effects, nor last long; as it ap-peared in the succession of Sabinian, who didrevive the former antiquities.
The vicissitude of mutations in the superiorglobe, are no fit matter for this present argument. It may be, Plato's great year, if the world shouldlast so long, would have some effect; not in renew-ing the state of like individuals (for that is the fumeof those, that conceive the celestial bodies havemore accurate influences upon these things below, than indeed they have), but in gross. Comets, outof question, have likewise power and effect, overthe gross and mass of things; but they are rathergazed upon, and waited upon in their journey, than wisely observed in their effects; specially in, their respective effects; that is, what kind of comet, for magnitude, color, version of the beams, plac-ing in the reign of heaven, or lasting, producethwhat kind of effects.
There is a toy which I have heard, and I wouldnot have it given over, but waited upon a little. They say it is observed in the Low Countries (Iknow not in what part) that every five and thirtyyears, the same kind and suit of years and weath-ers come about again; as great frosts, great wet, great droughts, warm winters, summers with littleheat, and the like; and they call it the Prime. It isa thing I do the rather mention, because, comput-ing backwards, I have found some concurrence.
But to leave these points of nature, and to cometo men. The greatest vicissitude of things amongstmen, is the vicissitude of sects and religions. Forthose orbs rule in men's minds most. The true re-ligion is built upon the rock; the rest are tossed, upon the waves of time. To speak, therefore, of thecauses of new sects; and to give some counsel con-cerning them, as far as the weakness of humanjudgment can give stay, to so great revolutions. When the religion formerly received, is rent bydiscords; and when the holiness of the professorsof religion, is decayed and full of scandal; andwithal the times be stupid, ignorant, and bar-barous; you may doubt the springing up of a newsect; if then also, there should arise any extrava-gant and strange spirit, to make himself authorthereof. All which points held, when Mahometpublished his law. If a new sect have not two prop-erties, fear it not; for it will not spread. The one isthe supplanting, or the opposing, of authority es-tablished; for nothing is more popular than that. The other is the giving license to pleasures, and avoluptuous life. For as for speculative heresies(such as were in ancient times the Arians, and nowthe Armenians), though they work mightily uponmen's wits, yet they do not produce any great al-terations in states; except it be by the help of civiloccasions. There be three manner of plantations ofnew sects. By the power of signs and miracles; bythe eloquence, and wisdom, of speech and persua-sion; and by the sword. For martyrdoms, I reckonthem amongst miracles; because they seem to ex-ceed the strength of human nature: and I may dothe like, of superlative and admirable holiness oflife. Surely there is no better way, to stop the risingof new sects and schisms, than to reform abuses; tocompound the smaller differences; to proceedmildly, and not with sanguinary persecutions;and rather to take off the principal authors by win-ning and advancing them, than to enrage themby violence and bitterness.
The changes and vicissitude in wars are many;but chiefly in three things; in the seats or stages ofthe war; in the weapons; and in the manner of theconduct. Wars, in ancient time, seemed more tomove from east to west; for the Persians, Assyrians, Arabians, Tartars (which were the invaders) wereall eastern people. It is true, the Gauls were west-ern; but we read but of two incursions of theirs:the one to Gallo-Grecia, the other to Rome. But eastand west have no certain points of heaven; and nomore have the wars, either from the east or west, any certainty of observation. But north and southare fixed; and it hath seldom or never been seenthat the far southern people have invaded thenorthern, but contrariwise. Whereby it is manifestthat the northern tract of the world, is in naturethe more martial region: be it in respect of the starsof that hemisphere; or of the great continents thatare upon the north, whereas the south part, foraught that is known, is almost all sea; or (which ismost apparent) of the cold of the northern parts, which is that which, without aid of discipline, doth make the bodies hardest, and the courageswarmest.
Upon the breaking and shivering of a great stateand empire, you may be sure to have wars. Forgreat empires, while they stand, do enervate anddestroy the forces of the natives which they havesubdued, resting upon their own protecting forces;and then when they fail also, all goes to ruin, andthey become a prey. So was it in the decay of theRoman empire; and likewise in the empire ofAlmaigne, after Charles the Great, every bird tak-ing a feather; and were not unlike to befall toSpain, if it should break. The great accessions andunions of kingdoms, do likewise stir up wars; forwhen a state grows to an over-power, it is like agreat flood, that will be sure to overflow. As it hathbeen seen in the states of Rome, Turkey, Spain, and others. Look when the world hath fewest bar-barous peoples, but such as commonly will notmarry or generate, except they know means to live(as it is almost everywhere at this day, except Tar-tary), there is no danger of inundations of people;but when there be great shoals of people, which goon to populate, without foreseeing means of lifeand sustentation, it is of necessity that once in anage or two, they discharge a portion of their peopleupon other nations; which the ancient northernpeople were wont to do by lot; casting lots whatpart should stay at home, and what should seektheir fortunes. When a warlike state grows soft andeffeminate, they may be sure of a war. For com-monly such states are grownm rich in the time oftheir degenerating; and so the prey inviteth, andtheir decay in valor, encourageth a war.
As for the weapons, it hardly falleth under ruleand observation: yet we see even they, have re-turns and vicissitudes. For certain it is, that ord-nance was known in the city of the Oxidrakes inIndia; and was that, which the Macedonianscalled thunder and lightning, and magic. And itis well known that the use of ordnance, hath beenin China above two thousand years. The conditionsof weapons, and their improvement, are; First, thefetching afar off; for that outruns the danger; asit is seen in ordnance and muskets. Secondly, thestrength of the percussion; wherein likewise ord-nance do exceed all arietations and ancient inven-tions. The third is, the commodious use of them; asthat they may serve in all weathers; that the car-riage may be light and manageable; and the like.
For the conduct of the war: at the first, menrested extremely upon number: they did put thewars likewise upon main force and valor; pointingdays for pitched fields, and so trying it out uponan even match and they were more ignorant inranging and arraying their battles. After, theygrew to rest upon number rather competent, thanvast; they grew to advantages of place, cunningdiversions, and the like: and they grew more skil-ful in the ordering of their battles.
In the youth of a state, arms do flourish; in themiddle age of a state, learning; and then both ofthem together for a time; in the declining age of astate, mechanical arts and merchandize. Learninghath his infancy, when it is but beginning andalmost childish; then his youth, when it is luxuri-ant and juvenile; then his strength of years, whenit is solid and reduced; and lastly, his old age, whenit waxeth dry and exhaust. But it is not good to looktoo long upon these turning wheels of vicissitude, lest we become giddy. As for the philology ofthem, that is but a circle of tales, and therefore notfit for this writing.
Of Fame
THE poets make Fame a monster. They de-scribe her in part finely and elegantly, andin part gravely and sententiously. They say, lookhow many feathers she hath, so many eyes shehath underneath; so many tongues; so manyvoices; she pricks up so many ears.
This is a flourish. There follow excellent par-ables; as that, she gathereth strength in going;that she goeth upon the ground, and yet hideth herhead in the clouds; that in the daytime she sittethin a watch tower, and flieth most by night; thatshe mingleth things done, with things not done;and that she is a terror to great cities. But thatwhich passeth all the rest is: They do recount thatthe Earth, mother of the giants that made waragainst Jupiter, and were by him destroyed, there-upon in an anger brought forth Fame. For certainit is, that rebels, figured by the giants, and seditiousfames and libels, are but brothers and sisters, mas-culine and feminine. But now, if a man can tamethis monster, and bring her to feed at the hand, and govern her, and with her fly other raveningfowl and kill them, it is somewhat worth. But weare infected with the style of the poets. To speaknow in a sad and serious manner: There is not, inall the politics, a place less handled and moreworthy to be handled, than this of fame. We willtherefore speak of these points: What are falsefames; and what are true fames; and how theymay be best discerned; how fames may be sown, and raised; how they may be spread, and multi-plied; and how they may be checked, and laiddead. And other things concerning the nature offame. Fame is of that force, as there is scarcely anygreat action, wherein it hath not a great part; es-pecially in the war. Mucianus undid Vitellius, bya fame that he scattered, that Vitellius had in pur-pose to remove the legions of Syria into Germany, and the legions of Germany into Syria; where-upon the legions of Syria were infinitely inflamed. Julius Caesar took Pompey unprovided, and laidasleep his industry and preparations, by a famethat he cunningly gave out: Caesar's own soldiersloved him not, and being wearied with the wars, and laden with the spoils of Gaul, would forsakehim, as soon as he came into Italy. Livia settledall things for the succession of her son Tiberius, bycontinual giving out, that her husband Augustuswas upon recovery and amendment, and it is anusual thing with the pashas, to conceal the deathof the Great Turk from the janizaries and men ofwar, to save the sacking of Constantinople andother towns, as their manner is. Themistocles madeXerxes, king of Persia, post apace out of Grecia, bygiving out, that the Grecians had a purpose tobreak his bridge of ships, which he had made ath-wart Hellespont. There be a thousand such likeexamples; and the more they are, the less theyneed to be repeated; because a man meeteth withthem everywhere. Therefore let all wise governorshave as great a watch and care over fames, as theyhave of the actions and designs themselves.
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A GlossaryOF ARCHAIC WORDSAND PHRASES
Abridgment: miniatureAbsurd: stupid, unpolishedAbuse: cheat, deceiveAculeate: stingingAdamant: loadstoneAdust: scorchedAdvoutress: adulteressAffect: like, desireAntic: clownAppose: questionArietation: battering-ramAudit: revenueAvoidance: secret outletBattle: battalionBestow: settle in lifeBlanch: flatter, evadeBrave: boastfulBravery: boast, ostentationBroke: deal in brokerageBroken: shine by comparisonBroken music: part musicCabinet: secretCalendar: weather forecastCard: chart, mapCare not to: are recklessCast: planCat: cate, cakeCharge and adventure: cost andriskCheck with: interfereChop: bandy wordsCivil: peacefulClose: secret, secretiveCollect: inferCompound: compromiseConsent: agreementCurious: elaborateCustom: import dutiesDeceive: robDerive: divertDifficileness: morosenessDiscover: revealDonative: money giftDoubt: fearEquipollent: equally powerfulEspial: spyEstate: stateFacility: of easy persuasionFair: ratherFame: rumorFavor: featureFlashy: insipidFoot-pace: lobbyForeseen: guarded againstFroward: stubbornFutile: babblingGlobe: complete bodyGlorious: showy, boastfulHumorous: capriciousHundred poll: hundredth headImpertinent: irrelevantImplicit: entangled
In a mean: in moderationIn smother: suppressedIndifferent: impartialIntend: attend toKnap:knollLeese: loseLet: hinderLoose: shotLot: spellLurch: interceptMake: profit, getManage: trainMate: conquerMaterial: business-likeMere-stone: boundary stoneMuniting: fortifyingNerve: sinewObnoxious: subservient, liableOes: round spanglesPair: impairPardon: allowancePassable: mediocrePine-apple-tree: pinePlantation: colonyPlatform: planPlausible: praiseworthyPoint device: excessively precisePolitic: politicianPoll: extortPoser: examinerPractice: plottingPreoccupate: anticipatePrest: preparedPrick: plantProper: personalProspective: stereoscopeProyne: prunePurprise: enclosurePush: pimpleQuarrel: pretextQuech: flinchReason: principleRecamera: retiring-roomReturn: reactionReturn: wing running backRise: dignityRound: straightSave: account forScantling: measureSeel: blindShrewd: mischievousSort: associateSpial: spyStaddle: saplingSteal: do secretlyStirp: familyStond: stop, standStoved: hot-housedStyle: titleSuccess: outcomeSumptuary law: law againstextravaganceSuperior globe: the heavensTemper: proportionTendering: nursingTract: line, traitTravel: travail, laborTreaties: treatisesTrench to: touchTrivial: commonTurquet: Turkish dwarfUnder foot: below valueUnready: untrainedUsury: interestValue: certifyVirtuous: ableVotary: vowedWanton: spoiledWood: mazeWork: manage, utilize
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