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BACON'S ESSAYS:

'YITH

AN
o"rATIO
S

RICHARD '"{HATEL Y, D.D.

ARClIBISHOP OF DU BLIX.

LO
DO
:
JOllY 'V. P
.\RKER AXD SON, 'YEST STR_-\.XD.
18 5 6 .

LONDON :
SAVILL AXD EDWARDS, PRIKTERS, CHASDOS STREET,
COVENT GARDEN.

PREF ACE.

H A 'YING been accustomed to ,vrite down, from time to
time, such observations as occurred to me on several of
Bacon's Essays, and also to make references to passages in
various books which relate to the same subjects, I have been
induced to lay the whole before the Public in an Edition of
these Essays. And in this I have availed myself of the
assistance of a friend, who, besides offering several valuable
suggestions, kindly undertook the task of revising and arrang-
ing the loose notes I had written down, and adding, in foot-
notes, explanations of obsolete ,vords and phrases.
In order to guard against the imputation of presumption in
venturing to make additions to ",-hat Bacon has saicl on seyeral
subjects, it is necessary to call attention to the circumstance
that the word ESSAY has been considerably changed in its
application since the days of Bacon. By an Essay was origi-
nally nleant-accol'ding to the obvious and uatural sense of the
,vord-a slight sketch, to be filled up by the reader; brief
hints, designed to be followed out; loose thoughts on some
subjects, thrown out without much regularity, but sufficient to
suggest further inquiries and reflections. Any more elaborate,
regular, and finished composition, such as, in our days, often
bears the title of an Essay, our ancestors called a treatise,
tractate, dissertation, or discourse. But the In ore unpretending
title of (Essay' has in great measure superseded those others
which were formerly in use, and more strictly appropriate.
I have adverted to this circumstance because it ought to be
remenl hered that an Essay, in the original and strict sense of
the wOl'd,-an Essay such as Bacon's,-was designed to be
suggestive of further remarks and reflections, and, in short, to
set the reader a-thinking on the subject. "
ith an Essay in the
a 2

PREF_\.CE.

modern sense of the word it is not so. If the reader of what
was designed to be a regular and COml)lete treatise on some
subject (and which would have becn so entitled by our forefathers)
makes additional remarks on that subject, he may be under..
stood to ÏInply that there is a deficiency and imperfection-a
something 'wanting-in the work before him; ,yhereas, to suggest
such further remarks-to give outlines that the reader shall fill
up for himsclf-is the very object of an Essay, properly so
called-such as those of Bacon.
He is, throughout, and especially in his Essays, one of the
most suggestive authors that ever ,vrote. And it is remarkable
that, compressed and pithy as the Essays are, and consisting
chiefly of brief hints, he has elsewhere condensed into a still
smaller compass the matter of most of them. In his Rhetoric
he has dra'Yll up what he calls ( Antitheta,' or common-places,
, locos' i.e. pros and cons,-opposite sentilnents and reasons, .on
various points, most of them the same that are discussed in the
Essays. It is a compendious and clear mode of bringing
before the mind the most important points ill any question, to
place in parallel columns, as Bacon has done, ,vhatever can be
plausibly urged, fairly, or unfairly, on opposite sides; and then
you are in the condition of a judge who has to decide some cause
after having heard all the pleadings. I have accordingly ap-
pended to most of the Essays some of Bacon's (Antitheta' on the
same subjects.
Perhap
it may be thought by some to be a superfluous task
to say anything at all concPflling a work ,,,hich has been in
most people's hands for about two centuries and a-half, and
has, in that time, rather gained than lost in popularity. But
there are some qualities in Bacon's ,vritillgs to which it is
important to direct, froln time to time, eSI)ecial attention, on
account of a tendency often shO"wing itself, and not least at the
prescnt day, to regard" ith cxcessiye admiration writers of a
complctely opposite character; tho
e of a nlystical, dim, half in-
telligible kiud of affected grandeur.
I t is well known "That a reproach to our climate is the

PREFACE.

prcYalen
of fogs, and ho,v much more of risk and of incon-
ycnicnce results from that miÅture of light and obscurity
than from the darkness of night. But let anyone imagine to
himself, if hc can, a mist so rcsplendent with gay prismatic
colours, that men should forget its inconveniences in their
adnliration of its beauty, and that a kind of nebular taste
should prevail, for prcferring that gOl'geons dimness to vulgar
daylight; nothing short of this could afford a parallel to the
mischief done to the public mind by some late "Titers both
in England and America ;-a sort of (Children of the :ThIist,'
who bring forwård their speculations,-often very silly, anù not
seldoln yery mischievous,-under cover of the twilight. They
haye accustolncd their disciples to admire as a style sublilnely
philosophical, w-hat may best bc dcscribed as a certain haze of
1,-ords Ì1nperfectly understood, through which SOlne seemingly
original ideas, scarccly distinguishable in their outlines, loom,
as it ,vere, on the view, in a kind of dusky magnificence, that
greatly exaggerates their Teal dimensions.
In the October number of the Edinburgh Revie'w, 185J
(p. 513), the reviewer, though evidently disposed to regard with
some favour a style of dim and mystical sublimity, remarks,
that' a strange notion, ,vhich many ha\Te adopted of late yeal's,
is that a poem cannot be profound unless it is, in whole or in
part, obscure; the people like their prophets to foan1 and speak
riddles. '
But the reyiewer need not haye confined his l'emark to
poctry; a similar taste prevails in refercnce to prose writers
also. 'I have ventured,' says the late Bishop Copleston (in a
letter published in the )Iemoir of him by his nephew), , to give
the whole class the appellation of the 'magic-lanthorn school,'
for their writings have the startling effcct of that toy; children
delight in it, and grown people soon get tired of it.'
The passages here subjoined, from modern works in some
l'epute, may serve as specimclls (and a nlultitude of such might
have been added) of the kind of st
'lc alluded to:-

I
(

PREFACE.

(In truth, then, thc idca (call it that of clay or that of
night) is threefold, not twofold:-day, night, and their rela-
tion. Day is the thesis, night the antithesis, their relation
the mesothesis of the triad,-for triad it is, and not a mere
pair or duad, after all. It is the same ,vith all the other
couples citcd above, and -with all couples, for every idea is a
trinitarian. Positive pole, negative one, and that middle ternl
'wherein they are made one; sun, planet, their relation; solar
atom, planetary one, their conjunction, and so forth. The terln
of relation betwixt the opposites in these ideal pairs is some-
times called the point of indifference, the mesoteric point, the
mid-point. This mid-point is to be seen standing betwixt its
right and left fellow-elements in every dictionary: for exaluple,
men, man, women; or adjectively, male, human, female. (So
God created man in IIis own image: in the image of God
created lIe him; male and female created lIe them."
( No,v, this threefold constitution of ideas is uniyersal. As
all things seem to go in pairs to sense, and to the understand-
ing, so all are seen in threes by reason. This law of antinomy
is no limited, no planetary la,v, nor yet peculiarly human; it is
cosmical, all-embracing, ideal, divine. Not only is it in1possible
for man to think beauty ,,-ithout simultaneou::;ly thinking de..
formity and their point of indifference, justice without injustice
and theirs, unity without multiplicity and theirs, but those
several theses (beauty, justice, unity, namely) cannot be thought
lrithout these their antitheses, and without the Tespective
middle ternlS of the pairs. As the eye of commOll-sense cannot
have an inside ,vithout au outside, n0r a solar orb ,vithout a
planetary orbicle (inasmuch as it ceases to be solar the instant
it is stril)t of its planet), so the eye of reason cannot see an
inside without seeing an outside, and also their connexion as
the inside and the outside of one and the same thing, nor a
SUll without his planet and their synthesis in a solar system.
In short, three-in-one is the la". of all thought and of all
things. Nothing has been created, nothing can be thought,

PREF.\.CE.

Y11

cxccpt upon the principlc of three-in-one. Three-in-one is the
deepest-lying cypher of the universe.'1
Again: t The t relativity' of human knowledge, i.e., the meta-
physical limitation of it, implies, we are told, the relation of a
suùject kno"Wing to an object known. And what is known
must be qualitatively known, inasmuch as we must conceiye
every object of which 'we are conscious, in the relation of a
quality depending upon a substance.
IoreoYer, this qualita-
tively-known object must be p'ì'otended, or conceived as exi
ting
in time, and extended, or regarded as existing in space; ,,-hile
its qualities are intensive, or conceivable nuder degree. The
thinkable, even when compelled by analysis to make the nearest
approach that is possible to a negation of intelligibility, thus
implies phenolllena objectified by thought, and conceived to exist
in space and tilne. 'Vith the help of these data, may we not
discover and define the highest la 'v of intelligence, and thu

place the key-stone in the metaphysic arch ?'
Again: 'Thus to the ancient, ,yell-known logic, 'which ,,"e
might call the logic of identity, and 'which has for its axiom,
, A thiug can ne
'er be tlte contrary of that lvhich it is,' lIegel
opposes his own logic, according to ,vhich t everything is at
once that 'ielliclt it is, and the contrary of that 'which it is.' By
means of this he advancE's a priori; he proposes a thesis, from
which he draws a ne,v synthesis, not directly ("Which Inight be
impossible), but indirectly, by means of an antithesis.'
Again: ( It [Religion] is a mountain air; it is the embalmer
of the ,,"orld. It is myrrh, and storax, and chlorine, and rose-
mary. It makes the sky and the hills sublime; and the silent
song of the stars is it. . . . . Always the seer is a sayer.
Somehow his dream is told, somehow he publishes it with
solen1l1 joy, sometimes '" ith pencil on canyas, sometimes ,yith
chisel on stone; sometinles ill towers and aisles of granite,

1 This must have been in the mind of the poet who wrote-
,
o down thy hiB, romantic Ashbournc, gEdes
The Derb). Dilly, carr
'iug three iU8itlt:8.'

Vill

PREFACE.

h 1 , h b 11 d
Ian 1 . S tIle T'lT on der.
is sou s ,vors ip is ui (e . . . . . _, H
maker. He is seen amid miracles. The stationariness of
religion; the assumption that the age of inspiration is past,
that the Bible is closed; the fear of degrading the character
of Jesus by representing hÍln as a man, indicate with sufficient
clearness the falsehood of our theology. It is the office of
a true teacher to sho,y us that God is, not ,yas-that He
8peaketh, not spoke. The true Christianity-a faith like Christ's
in the Infinitude of raan-is lost. None believeth in the soul
of man, but only ill some man or person old and departed!
In ho,v nlany churches, and by how many prophets, tell me, is
man made sensible that he is an infinite soul; that tbe earth
and heavens are passing into his mind; and that he is drinking
for ever the soul of God!
( The very,yord ßIiracle, as pronounced by Christian churches,
gives a false impression; it is a monster; it is not one with the
blowing clover and the falling rain. . . . ßlan's life is a miracle,
and all that n1an doth. . . . A true conversion, a true Christ, is
now, as al",ays, to be made by the reception of beautiful senti-
Inents. . . . The gift of God to the soul is not a ,Taunting,
overpowering, excluding sanctity, but a sweet natura] goodness,
like thine and mine, and that thus invites thine and luine to be
and to grow.'
N o ,v, without presumillg to insinuate that such passages as
these convey no distiuct meaning to any reader, or to the
,rriter, it may safely be maintained that to abo,'e ninety-nine
hundrcdths-including, probably, nlany who admire them as
profoundly ,vise-they are very dÜuly, if :tt all, iutelligible.
One may often hear SOUle "Titers vf the' magic-Ianthorn
school' spoken of as p08
essil1g \\'onderful J1oweJ', eyeu by those
,,,,ho regrct that this power is not better employed. 'It is
pity,' we sometimes hear it said, (that such and such an author
does not express in simple, intel1igible, unaffected English such
adn1Íl'able mattcr as his.' They little thiuk that it is the
strangeness and obscurity of the style that make the po,,-er
_di
pla)Ted secm far greater than it is; and that much of what

PREFACE.

they now achnire as originality and profound wisdoln, would
appear, if translated into common language, to be mere common-
placc n1atter. )Iany a work of this dcscription lllay remind
one of the supposed ancient shicld ",-hich had bcen found by
the antiquary :ðlartinus Scriblerus, and which he highly
prized, incrusted as it was with venerable rust. He mused on
the splcllùid appearance it must have had in its bright newness;
till, one day, an o,'er-sedulous housemaid having scoured off the
rust, it turned out to be merely an old pot-lid.
It is chiefly in such foggy fon11s that the metaphysics and
theology of Gennany, for instance, are exercising a greater
influence every day on popular literature. It has been zealously
instilled iuto the n1Ïnds of Inany, that Gcrmany has something
far more In'ofounll to
upply than anything hitherto extant in
our natiyc literature; though what that profound
omething is,
seems not to be ,yell understood by its admirers. They are,
ll10st of them, willing to take it for granted, with an implicit
faith, that what seems such hard thinking must be very accu-
rate and original thinking also. '''"hat is abstruse and recondite
they suppose must be abstruse and recondite wisdom; though,
perhaps, it is what, if stated in plain English, they would thro"r
aside as partly trifling truisms, and partly stark folly.
I t is a remark that I have heard highly applauded, that a
cle(l1. idea is generally a little idea; for there are not a fe,v
persons who estimate the depth of thought as an unskilful eye
.would estimate the depth of water. :r.luddy water is apt to be
supposed deeper than it is, because you cannot see to the
bottom; very clear ,vater, on the contrary, will always seem
less deep than it is, both from the well-known law. of refrac-
tion, and also because it is so thoroughly penetrated by the
sight.
Ien fancy that an idea must ha\.e been always obvious
to eycry one, when they find it so plainly presented to the mind
that eyery one can easily take it in. ..An explanation that is
perfectly clear, satisfactory, and sin1ple, often .causes the unre-
flecting to forget that thcy had needed any explanation at all.
X 0", Bacon is a stril
il1g ill
tance of a genius who could

PREFACE.

think so profoundly, and at the same time so clearly, that an
ordinal')" man undei'stands readily most of his wisest sayings,
and, perhaps, thinks them so self-evident as hardly to need
luention. But, on re-consideration and repeated meditation,
you percei,'e more and more what exten:sive and important
applications one of his maxims will have, and how often it
has been overlooked: aud on returning to it again and again,
fresh views of its importance ,vill continually open on )TOU.
One of his sayings ,yill be like SOlne of the heavenly bodies that
are '7isible to the nakcd eye, but in which you see continually
more and nlore, the better the tele
cope you apply to them.
The' dark sayings,' on thc contrary, of some adlnired "Triters,
ma)T be c01l1pared to a fog-bank at sea, which the navigator at
first glance takes for a chain of majestic mountail1s, but "hich,
"hen approached closely, or when viewed through a good glass,
proves to be a mere n1ass of unsubstantial vapours.

A large proportion of Bacon's ,,'orks has been In great
measure supcrseded, chiefly through the influence exerted Ly
those works themselyes; for, the more satisfactory and effectual
is the Tcfutatioll of some prevailing errors, and the establish-
mcnt of sonle philosoplâcal principles that had been overlooked,
the less necd is there to resort, for pOlRl1ar use, to the argu-
nleuts by wl1Ích this has been effected. They are like the
trcnchcs and batterics by which a besieged town has becn
assailcd, and ".hich are abandoned as soon as the capture has
been effected.
, I haye been labouring,' says somL writcr '\rho had becn
engagcd in a task of this kind (and Bacon 111Íght have said the
saule)-' I have been labouring to render Inyself useless.'
Great part, accordingly, of what were the nlost important of
Bacon's ".orks are now resorted to chiefly as a matter of curious
and illterestiug speculation to thc studious fe"T, while the effect
of thcm i" practically felt by many who never read, or perhaps
eycn heard of thcm.
But his Essa)7s retain their popularity, as relating cbiefl
T to

PREF.\.CE.

the concerns of' cyery-day life, anJ which, as he hiu1self ex-
presses it, , come home to men's busincss and bosoms.'
rro treat fully of the design and character of Bacon's greater
works, and of the mistakes-which are not few or unimportant
-that prevail respecting them, would be altogethcr unsuited to
this 'York. But it lnay be worth while to introduce two brief
remarks on that subjcct.
(I.) The prevailing fault among philosophers in Bacon's tilne,
and long before, 'was hasty, careless, and scanty ohser,-ation,
and the ,vant of copious and patient experiment. On supposed
facts not carefully ascertained, and often on mere baseless COll-
jecture, they proceeded to reason, often very closely and ingeni...
ously, forgetting that no architectural skill in a superstructure
,,,ill give it greater firmnes
than the foundation on which it
rests; and thus they of course failed of arriving at true COll-
clusions; for, the most accurate reasoning is of no avail, if you
have not well-established facts and principles to start from.
Bacon laboured zealously and powerfully to recall philosophers
from the study of fanciful sJ1"stems, based on crude conjectures,
or on imperfect kno\vledge, to the careful and judicious investi-
gation, or, as he called it, 'interrogation' and 'interpretation
of nature;' the collecting and properly arranging of well-ascer-
tained facts. And the maxin1s which he laid down and enforced
for the conduct of philosophical inquiry, are ulliversally admitted
to have at least greatly contributed to the vast progress ,,-hich
physical science has been making since his time.
But though Bacon dwelt on the importance of setting out
from an accurate knowledge of facts, and on the absurdity of
atten1pting to substitute the reasoning-process for an investi-
gation of nature, it would be a great lnistake to imagine that
he meant to disparage the reasoning-process, or to substitute
for skill and correctness in that, a Incre accumulated knowlcdge
of a nlultitude of facts. And anyone would be far indeed
from being a follo,,-er of Bacon, who should despise logical ac-
ctuacy, and trust to what is oftcn called experience, n1caning
h)1" that an e
tensiYe but crude and undigested obser,"atioll.

PREF
\.CE.

For, as books, though indi
pcnsably necessary for a student, are
of no use to onc who has not learned to read, though he dis-
tinctly sees black nlarks on white paper, so is all experience and
aeqnaintance with facts unprofitablc, to one whose nlind has not
becn trained to rcad rightly the volunle of nature, and of human
transactions, spread before him.
'Yhen complaints are made-often not altogether without
reason -of the prevailing ignorance of facts, on such or such
subjects, it will often be found that the parties censured, though
possessing less know lcdge than is desirable, yet possess more
than they know ,vhat to do with. Their deficiency in arranging
and applying their knowledge, in conlbining facts, and correctly
deducing, and rightly employing, general princil>les, ,rill be
perhaps greatcr than their ignorance of facts. N O\V, to atten1pt
relnedying this defect by imparting to them additional kno\v-
lcdge,-to confer the advantage of ,viùer experience on those who
have not skill in profiting by experiellce,-is to attempt enlarging
the prospcct of a short-sighted lnan by bringing him to the
top of a hill. Since he could not, on the plain, see distinctly
the ohjects before hilll, the wider horizon from the hill-top is
utterly lost on him.
In tbe tale of Sandford and .ilIerrton, ,,,here the two boys are
dc:"cribed as alnusing themselves with building a hovel, they lay
poles horizontally on the top, and cover them with straw., so as
to Dlake a flat roof; of coarse the rain comes through; and
ßlaster
Ierton proposes thcn to lay Oil r/lore strarw. But Sand-
ford, the more intelligent boy, renlarks, that as long as the
roof is fiat, the rain 11lust sooner or later soak through; and
that the renlcdy is, to alter the building, and form the roof
sloping. 1\ ow, the idea of enlightening incorrect reasoners by
additional knowledge, is an error analogous to that of the flat
}'oof; of course knowlcdge is necessary; so is stra,v to thatch
the roof; but no quantity of Dlaterials will be a substitute for
understanding how to build.
But the unwise and incautious are always prone to rush from
an error on OIle side into an Ol)posite error. And a reaction

PREFACE.

XlII

accordingly took place from the abu
c of rcasoning, to the undue
ncglcct of it, and from the fault of not sufficiently observing
facts, to that of trusting to a mere accumulation of ill-arranged
knowledge. It is as if mCll had formerly spent vain labour in
threshing over and over again the same straw, and winnowing
the saIne chaff, and then their successors had resolved to discard
those processes altogether, and to bring home and use wheat
and .weeds, stra"r, chaff, and grain, just as they gre,v, and with-
out any preparation at all.
If Bacon had lived in the l)resent day, I am convin(\cd he
would have made his chief complaint against unmethodizcd
inquiry, and careless and illogical reasoning; certainly he would
not have complained of Dialectics as corrupting philosophy.
To guard now against the evils prevalent in his time, would be
to fortify a town against battering-rams instead of against
cannon.
(2.) The other remark I would make on Bacon's greater
,yorks is, that he does not rank high as a ' natural philosopher.'
I-lis genius lay another way; not in the direct pursuit of phy-
sical science, but in discerning and correcting the errors of
philosophers, and laying down the principles on 'which they
ought to proceed. According to Horace's illustration, his office
'was not that of the razor" but the hone, C acutum reddere quæ
ferrum valet, exsors ipsa secandi.'
The poet Cowley accordingly has beautifully compared Bacon
to 1\loses,

"Vho did upon the vcrJ border stand
Of that fair promised land;'

who had brought the Israelites out of Egypt, and led them
through the wilderness to the entrance into the land flowing
with milk and honey, 'which he was allo,ved to view from the
hill-top, but not himself to enter.
It requires the master-mind of a great general to form the
plan of a campaign, and to direct aright the movements of great
bodies of troops: but the greatest general may perhaps fall far

XIV

PREY.lCE.

short of many a private soldier in the use of the musket or the
sword.
But Bacon, though far from being ,,-ithout a taste for the
pursuits of physical science, had an actual inaptitude for it, as
might be shewn by many examples. The discoveries of Coper-
nicus and Galileo, e.g., which had attracted attention before and
in his own time, he appears to have rejected or disregarded.
But one of the most remarkable specimens of his inaptitude
for practically carrying out his own principles in matters con-
nectcd with Ph)Tsical Science, is his speculation concerning the
,vell-l{llown plant called misselto. He notices the popular
belief of his own time, that it is a true plant, propagated by
its berries, which are dropped by birds on the boughs of other
trees; a fact alluded to in a Latin proverb applicable to those
'who create future dangers for themselves; for, the ancient
Ron1ans prepared birdlime for catching birds from the misselto
thus propagated. Now this account of the plant, which has
long since becn universally adn1Ïtted-, Bacon rejects as a vulgar
crror, and insists on it that misselto is not a true plant, but an
eÀcrescence from the tree it gro,vs on !
Nothing can be conceived more remote from the spirit of the
Baconian philosophy than thus to substitute a random conjec-
ture for careful in\?estigation: and that, too, when there actually
did cxist a pre\railing belief, and it 'was obviously the first step
to inquire whether this were or were not well.founded.
But rarely, if ever, do we find any such failures in Bacon's
spcculations on human character and conduct. It "ras there
that his strength lay, and in that dcp:u'bnent of philosophy it
n1ay be safcly said that hc had few to equal, andllone to excel
hin1.

CONTEN
I'S.

ES
A y
I. OF TRUTH
II. OF DEATH
III. OF UNITY I
RELIGIO

IV. OF REVE"NGE .
V. OF ADVERSITY
VI. OF SL\IUL.\.TIO
AND DISSI:\IULA TIO X
VII. OF PARENTS A
D CHILDREN .
VIII. OF :\IARRL\.GE AND SI
GLE LIFE .
IX. OF EXVY .

PAGE

XXI. OF DELAYS .

13
19
4 1
47
58
66
7 0
75
83
87
10 4
10 7
114
119
135
14 8
173
17 8
18 3
19 2
19 8
210

X. OF LOVE .
XI. OF GREAT PLA.CE
XII. OF 130LDNESS
XIII. OF GOODNE:SS AND GOODNESS OF X_\. Tl'RE
XIV. OF NOBILITY
XV. OF SEDITIONS AXD TROUDLES .
XVI. OF A.THEIS)1
XVII. OF SrPERSTITION
XYIII. OF TRAVEL .
XIX. OF E:\IPJRE
XX. OJ!' COUNSEL

XXII. OF CUNXING
XX In. OF WISDO
I FOR A :\IAX'S SELF

x IV. OF INNOVATIONS
XXV. OF DISP ATCH
XXYI. OF SEE)n
G "rISE .
- XXVII. OF FRIE
DSHIP .

21 7
23 6
24 2
24 8

X'l CONTENTS.
ESSAY PAGE
XXVIII. OF EXPENSE 266
XXIX. OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDO:\lS AXO
ESTATES 27 2
xxx. OF REGI:\IEN OF HEALTH 29 0
XXXI. OF SUSPICION . 293
XXXII. OF DISCOURSE . 3 0 9
XXXIII. OF PLA
TATIONS . 3 18
XXXIV. OF ltICHES 33 1
XXXV. OF PROPHECIES 34 2
XXXVI. OF A
IBITION 349
XXXVII. OF M.\SQUES AND TRIUì\IPHS 35 2
XXXVII I. OF NATURE IN l\IEN . 35 6
XXXIX. OF CUSTO
1 AND EDUCATION 3 60
XL. OF FORTUNE 374
XLI. OF USURY . 379
XLII. OF YOUTH AND AGE 3 86
XLIII. OF BEAUTY 395
XLIV. OF DEFOR:\IITY 397
XLV. OF BUILDING 399
XL YI. OF GARDENS 4 0 4
XLVII. OF NEGOTIATING . 4 12
XL YIII. OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS 4 2 5
XLIX. OF SUI TORS 4 2 9
L. OF STUDIES 43 2
LI. OF FACTION 4 61
LII. OF CEREì\10NIES AND RJ4;SPECTS. 4 6 3
LIII. OF PRAISE. 4 6 7
LIV. OF VAI
GLORY 477
LV. OF HOXOUR AND REPUT
\TIO
. 4 80
LVI. OF JUDICATURE 4 88
LVII. OF _\XGER . 497
LVIII. OF VICISSITUDES OF THI
GS 5 0 3
- A FRAG:\IENT OF A
ESSAY ON F
\
IE 5 C 9
TIlE PllAISE O
' K
O'VLEDGE 5 1 3

B A CON'S E S SAY s.

ESSAY I. OF TRUTH.

, "'\:XTII.A.T is truth?' said jesting Pilate, and would not stay
\'" for an answer. Certainly there be that delight in
giddiness, and count it a bondage to fh.. a belief-affecting)
free-will in thinking, as well as in acting-and, though the
sects of philosophers of that kind be gone, yet there remain
certain discoursing
wits w.hich are of the same veins, though
there be not ::,0 much blood in them as was in those of the
ancients. But it is not only the difficulty and labour ,vhich
men take in finding out of truth j nor again, that, when it is
found, it imposeth 3 upon men's thoughts, that doth bring lies
in fayour; but a natural, though corrupt lo,'e of the lie
itself. One of the later schools of the Grecians exan1Ïlleth the
nlatter, and is at a stand to think ,vhat should be in it, that
men should love lies, where neither they make for pleasure, as
".ith poets, nor for advantage, as with the merchant, but for
the lie's sake. But I cannot ten: this same truth is a naked
and open daylight, that cloth not
how the nlasques, and lllUlll-
meries, and triunlphs of the ,yorld, half so stately and daintily4
as candle-lights. Truth may perhaps come to the price of a
pearl, that showeth best by day; but it "\till not rise to the

1 Affect.. To aim at; endeavour afier.

This proud man affects imperial swa
T.'-Dr!lden.
2 Discourðing. IJiscursÏl'e; rambling.

"r e, through madness,
Form strange conceits in our discoursing brains,
And prate of things as we pretend they wcre.'-Ford.
3 Impose npon. To la.if a restraint 'upon. (Bacon's Latin original is,
C0gi-
tationibus imponitur captivitas.')

Unreasonable impositions on the mind and practice.'-Wafis.
4 Daintily. Elega1ltly.
IJ
The Duke exceeded in tha.t his leg was daintily formed.' - WOttOll,.
n

Of Truth.

[Essay i.

price of a dialllond or carbunclc, that showeth best in varied
lights. A mixture of a lie doth eyer add pleasure. Doth any
man doubt, that if there were takcn out of men's minds vain
opinions, flattering hOlles, false valuations, inlagillations as one
would/ anù the like, but it woulclleaye the minds of a number
of D1en 1)00r shrunkcn things, full of melancholy anù indisposi-
tion, and uIl}.>lcasing 2 to themselves? One of the fathers, in
great se, crity, called poesy (vinum dæmonuln,'3 because it
fillcth the inlagination, and yet is but ,vith the shado,v of a
lie. But it is not the lie that passeth through the mind, but
the lie that sillkcth in and settleth in it that doth the burt,
such as ,,'e spake of beforc. But ho,vsoever 4 these things are
thus in men's depraved judgments and affections, yet truth,
,vhich only doth judge itself, teacheth that the inquiry of truth,
'which is the love-lnaking, or ,vooing of it-the knowledge of
truth, which is the presence of it-and the belief of truth,
,,-hich is the enjoying of it-is the sovereign good of human
nature. The first creature of God, in the works of the days)
was the light of the sense, the last was the light of I'eason,
and his Sabbath work, evcr since, i::; the illumination of his
sl>irit. First he breathcd light upon the face of the n1atter, or
chaos, thCll he brcathe
1 light into the face of man, and still he
hrcathcth and inspireth light into the facc of his chosen. The
poet,s that beautified the sect,6 that was otherwise inferior to the
rcst, saith yet excellently well, (It is a pleasure to stand upon
the shore, and to see ships tost upon the sea; a pleasure to
stand in the window of a castle, and to see a battle, and the
advelltures 7 thereof belo,,'; but no pleasure is comparable to the
standing upon the vantage ground of truth (a hill not to be

1 As one would. At pleasure; 'unrestrained.
2 Unpleasing. Unpleasant; distasteful.
c How dares thy tongue
Sound the unpleasing news ?'-Shakespere.
3 'Wine of demonso'-Augustine.
4 Howsoever. Although.
'The man doth fear God, l/,olVsoever it seems not in him.'-Sltakespere.

Lucretius, ii.
6 The Epicuioeans.
7 Adventures. Fortunes.
c She smiled with silver cheer,
.AmI wÎ::;h'll me fair adventure for the year.'-D1"!Jden.

Essay i.]

Of Truth.

commanded, and "whcre the air is always clcar and screne), and
to see the errors, and wandcrings, and mists, and ten) pcsts, in
the yale below;' SOl always that this prospect be "With pity,
and not with swclling or pride. Ccrtainly it is hcaven upon earth
to havc a man's mind move in charity, rest ill providcnce, and turn
upon the poles of truth.
To pass fronl theological and philosophical truth to the
truth of civil busincss, it will be ackno,vledged, eyen by those
that practisc it not, that clear and round
dealing is the honour
of man's nature, and that mixture of falsehood is like alloy in
coin of gold and silver, "Which may make the metal "Work the
better, but it emhaseth 3 it; for these winding and crooked
courses are the goings of the serpent, ,vhich goeth basely upon
the belly, and not upon the feet. There is no vice that doth
so coyer a man with shanle as to be found false and per-
fidious; and therefore j\Iontaigne saith prettily, when he in-
quired the reason why the word of the lie should be such a
disgrace, and such an odious charge, 'If it be well weighed, to
say that a man lieth, is as much as to say that he is brave
towards God, and a coward towards men; for a lie faces God,
and shrinks from man. H Surely the wickedness of falsehood
alid breach of faith cannot possibly be so highly expressed as in
that it shall be the last pcal to call the judgments of God upon
the generations of men: it being foretold, that w"hen 'Christ
cometh,' he shall not' finù faith upon earth.'

1 So. Provided.
e So that the doctrine be wholesome and edifying, a want of exactness in the
manner of speech may be overlooked.'-Atterbury.
2 Round. Plain; fair; candid.
e I will a round, unvarnished tale deliver.'-Shakespere.
3 Embase. To vitiate; to alloy.
( Å pleasure, high, rational, and angelic; a ple.lsure embased by no appendant
sting.'-Soutll.
4 Es::;ais, Liv. ii. chap. xviii.

B 2

Of Truth.

[Essay i.

AXKOTATIOXS.

, lf T hat
s truth? said jesting Pilate, and would not stay f01.
an anS'We1".'

Anyone of Bacon's acuteness, or of a quarter of it, might
easily have percei,
ed, had he at all attended to the context of
the narrative, that never was anyone less in a jesting mood
than Pilate on this occasion. He ,vas anxious to release Jesus;
which must have been froln a kno-wledge of the superhun1an
powers of I-lim he had to do "with. A man so unscrupulous
as Pilate is universally adn1Îtted to have been, could not have
felt any anxiety merely froln a dislike of injustice; and there-
fore his conduct is one confirmation of the reality of the
numerous miracles Jesus "Tought. They, and they only, lllust
hare filled him with drea(l of the consequences of doing any
'wrong to such a person, and probably, also, inspired him with
a hope of furthering some aITI bitious views of his o,vn, by
taking part ,yith one whom he (in COlllmon with so Inany
others) e
q)ected to be just about to assume temporal dominion,
and to enforce his clailn by resistless power. lIe tries to make
HÍ1n proclaÌ1n Hinlself a King; and when Jesus does this, but
adds that his kingdom is not of this world, still Pilate catches
at the word, and says, ' Art thou a king, then ?' Jesus then
proceeds to designate wll.o should be his subjects: 'Everyone
that is of tile Truth heareth lIlY words:' as much as to say, 'I
clailll a kingdon1, not over the Israelite by race; not oyer all
w horn I can sulJjugate by force, or ,rho will subn1Ït to 11le
through fear or interest; but oyer the votaries of truth,-those
.who are' of the truth,' '-tho::;e ,vho arc ,villing to recei,
e what-
ever
hall be proyed true, and to tollow 'lvlte'ì"ever that shall
lead. And Pi)ate is at a loss to see what this has to do with
his inquiry. 'I am asking you about your claims to empire,
and YOU tell me about truth: ,,-hat has truth to do .with the
..
qU('stiOll 't'
)lost readers overlook the drift of our Lord's answer and
,
interpret the words as a 111ere assertion (which every teacher
n1akes) of the truth of ".hat lIe taught; as if !-Ie had said,
l Evcry one that heareth my ,,'ords is of the Truth.'

Essay i.]

Annotations.

And commentators usually satisfy themseh
es ,,-ith such an
interprctation as makcs the cxpression intelligible in itself,
'without considcring how far it is pertinent. A luerc asscrtion
of the truth of his tcaching ,vould not have bccn at all rcleyant
to the inquiry lllade. But what He did say 'vas evidently a
description of the persons who ,",'cre to be the subjects of the
kingdolll that 'is not of this "\, odd.'
)Iuch to the sanle effcct is his declal'ation that those who
should be his <.lisciplcs indeed should' kno\v the Truth,' and the
'Truth :;hould make them free j' and that 'if any man will do'
[is wining to do] 'the will of the Father, he shall know of
the doctrine.'
lcn ,vere not to become his disciples in conse-
quence of their kno,ving and percei\-ing the truth of ,,'hat He
taught, but in consequence of their having sufficient candour
to recei,'e the cyidellce which his Iniraclcs afforded, and being
so thoroughly' of the Truth' as to give themselves up to follo\v
,yherever that should lead, in opposition to any prejudices or
inclinations of their 0"\\11; and then knowlcdge of the truth
was to he their reward. There is not necessarily any 1110ral
virtue ill receiving truth; for it may happen that our interest,
or our wishes, are in the same direction f or it may be forced
upon us by evidence as irresistible as that of a n1athelllatical
dcn1onstration. The virtue consists in being a sincere yotary of
rrruth ;-what our Lord calls being' of the rrruth,' -rejecting
(the hidden things of dishonesty,' and carefully guarding
against every undue bias. E\Tery one 1tishes to haye '.rruth on
his
ide; but it is not evcry one that sincerely ,,'ishes to be on
tile side of Truth.

, The inquiry of truth, which is tlte love-ínaking or
'wooing of it.'l

This lü\e-making or wooing of Truth implies that first step
towards attaining the cstablishment of the habit of a steady
thorough-going adhercnce to it in all philosopllic, and espe-
cially rcligious, inquiry-the strong conyiction of its yalue. rro
this must be uÜitecl a distrust of ourseh'es. l'Ien n1Íss truth
1TIOrC often from thcir indifference about it than from intellcc-

1 The cllif'f part of what foHows, I have taken tIle liberty to extract from the
E
'sa!l on Trull" (2nd Series).

Of Truth.

[Essay i.

tual incapacity; and some men, fron1 supposing then1se!ves to
ha,.e found truth, take for granted that it "'as for truth they
,vere seeking. But if "'e either care not to be lovers of Truth,
or take for granted that ,ve are such, without taking any pains
to acquire thc habit, it is not likely that ,ve eyer shall acquire
it.
rany objections have been urged against the yery effort
to cultivate such a habit. One is, that we cannot be required
to make Truth our main object, but happiness; that our ultimate
end is not the nlere knowledge of "'hat is true, but the attain-
ment of what is good to ourselves and to others. But this,
'when urged as an objection to the maxim, that Truth should be
sought for its own sake, is evidently founded on a mistake as
to its meaning. It is evident, in the first place, that it does
not n1ean the pursuit of all truth on all subjects. I t would be
ridiculous for a single individual to aim at universal knowledge,
or eyen at the knowledge of all that is within the reach of the
human faculties and worthy of human study. The question is
respecting the pursuit of truth in each subject on which each
person desires to 'lnake 'Up his rnind and fornl an opinion. And
secondly, the purport of the nlaxinl that in these points truth
should be our object, is, not that mere barren knowledge with-
out practice-truth ,,-ithout any ulterior end, should be sought,
hut that truth should be sought and followed confidently, not
in cach instancc, only so far as ,,'c perceive it to be expedient,
and from motives of policy, hut" ith a full conyiction both that
it is, in the end, always expedient, with a view to the attain-
ment of ulterior ohjects (no permanent advantage being attain-
able by departing from it), and also, that, eyen if son1e end,
othcrwise advantagcous, could be pron10ted by such a departure,
that alone 'would constitute it an cvil ;-that truth, in short, is
in itsclf, indcpendently of its results, preferable to error; that
honesty elainls a preference to deceit) even ,,-ithout taking into
account its being the best policy.
Anothcr ohjection, if it can be so cancd, is that a perfectly
candid and unbiassed state of Inind-a habit of judging in each
case entircly according to the evidence-is unattainable. But
the sanIC Ulay be said of cycry other yirtne: a perfcct rcgula-
tion of allY Olie of the hunìan passions is probably not more
attainable than pcrfect call dour ; hut 'We are not thcrcfore to
give a loose to thc passions; ,,-e are not to relax our efforts for

Essay i ]

Annotations.

the attainment of any virtue on the grounù that, after all, "'"e
shall fall
hort of pcrfection.
Another ohjcction which has becn urged is, that it is not
even desirablc, ".ere it pO:5
iblc, to bring the n1Ïnd iuto a
tate
of perfectly un biassed indifference, so as to weigh the eyidence
in each case "With conlplete impartiality. This objection arises,
I conceive, from an indistinct and confused notion of the sense
of the terms employed.
\. candid and unbiasscd state of mind,
which is sometimes called indif)'el'ence, or inlpartiality, i.e., of the
judgnlent, does not imply an indifference of the will-an absence
of all ,vish on cither side, but lllerely an absence of all influence
of the wishes in forming our decision,-allleaning of the judg-
ment on the side of inclination,-all peryersion of the evidence
in consequence. That we should
()i8h to find truth on one side
rather than the other, is in Inany cw
cs not only unavoidable,
but conlmendable; but to think that true which we wish, with-
out impartially weighing the eyidence on both sides, is undeni-
a1Jly a folly, though a very conlmon one. If a mode of effectual
and spcedy cure be proposed to a sick man, he cannot but wish
that the result of his inquil'ies concerning it may be a ,,-ell-
grounded conviction of the safety and efficacy of the remedy
prescribed. It would be 110 mark of wisdonl to be indifferent
to the restoration of health; but if his wishes should lead him
(as is frequently the ('ase) to put implicit confidence in the
remedy ,,-ithout any just grounds for it, he ,"fould deservedly be
taxed with folly.
In like manner (to take the instance aboye alluded to), a good
man will indeed wis/t to find the eyidence of the Christian
religion satisfactory, but" ill weigh the evidence the more care-
fully, on account of the in1portance of the question.
But indifference of the u'ill and indifference of the jlld...qment
are two ycry distinct things that are often confounded. A
conclusion nlay safely be adopter1, though in accordance with
inclination, proyidcd it be not founded upon it. N" 0 doubt the
juclgnlent is often biassed by the inclinations; but it is possible,
and it should be our elldeayour, to guard against this biað.
Aud by the way, it is uttcrly a Inistnke to suppose that the
bias is always in favour of the conclusion wished for; it is often
in the contrary dil'cction. There is in SOlne minds an unrea-
sonable doubt in ca
c:s ,vhere their wishes are strong-a morbid

Of Trutll.

[Essay i.

distrust of evidence wllÍch tIlcy are especially an.
ious to find
conclusive. The proverbial expression of ' too good news to be
true' bears ,vitness to the existence of this feeling. Each of us
probably has a nature leaning towards one or the other (often
towards both, at different times) of these infirmities ;-the oyer-
estimate or under-estimate of the reasons in favour of a conclu-
sion we earnestly desire to find true. Our aim should be, not
to fly from one extreme to the other, but to avoid both, and to
give a verdict according to the evidence, preserving the indiffe-
rence of the judgment even when the ,vill cannot, and indeed
should not, be indifferent.
There are persons, again, ,vho, in supposed compliance with
the precept,' Lean not to thine own understanding,' regard it
as a duty to suppress all exercise of the intellectual po-\vers, in
every case .where the feelings are at variance with the conclusions
of reason. They deem it right to 'consult t11e heart more
than the head;' that is, to surrender t11emselves, advisedly, to
the bias of any prejudice that ma)? happen to be present; thus
deliberately, and on principle, burying in the earth the talent
entrusted to them, and hiding under a busl1el the candle that
God bas lighted up in the soul. But it is not necessary to
dwell on such a case, both because it is not, I t1'11st, a common
one, and also because those ,,-ho are so disposell are clearly
beyond the reach of argument, since they think it "Tong to
listen to it.
It is not intended to recommend presuIDl)tuous inquiries into
things beyond the reach of our faculties,-attempts to be wise
above what is ,\rritten,-or groundless confidence in the cer-
tainty of our conclusions; but unless reason be employed in
ascertaining what doctrines are revealed, humility cannot be
exercised in acquiescing in thcm; anJ there is surely at least
as much prcsumption in measuring everything by our o,,-n
feclings, fancies, and prejudices, as by our own reasonings.
Such voluntary lnuniliatioll is a prostration, not of ourseh-cs
before God, but of one part of ourselves before another part,
and resembles the idolatry of the Israelites in the wildcrness :
'The people stripped tlteuzselves of thcir golden ornaments,
and cast them into the fire, 'and thcre caIne out this calf.' 'Ye
ought to remember that the disciples were led by the dictates
of a sound understandi/lg to sar, 'X 0 n1an can do these miracles

Essay i.]

Annotations.

that thou doest, except God be with him;' and thencc to hclicvp,
and trust, and obcy Jesus inlplicitlyj but that Peter was led by
his heart (that is, his inclinations and prcjudiccs) to
ay, 'Be
it far fronl thee, LorJ! there shall no such thing happen unto
thec.'
I t is to lJe remeluhcred also that the intellectual powers are
somctinlcs prebscd into the service, as it ,,-ere, of the feelings,
and th
lt a nlan Juay bp thus n1Ísled, in a great measurc, through
his own ingenuity. 'Depend on it,' said a shrewd observcr when
inquired of, what ,vas to be expected from a certain man ,,-ho
had been appointed to SOTI1e high office, and of whose intelligence
he thought luore fayoul'ably than of his uprightncss,-' depend
on it, hc will never take any step that is bad, without having a
very good reason to give for it.' :K ow it is common to "Tarn
men-and they are generally ready enough to take the "arning
-against being thus n1Ïsled hy the ingenuity of another; hut a
pcrson of more than ordinary learning and ability needs to be
carefully on his guard against being misled by !tis own.
Though conscious, perhaps, of his own power to dress up spe-
ciously a bad cause, or an extra,-agallt and fanciful theory, he
is conscious also of a corresponding po,\Ter to distinguish sound
reasoning from sophistry. But this will not a,Tail to protect
hiln froln convincing him
elf by ingenious sophistry of his own,
if he has allowcd hinlself to adopt some conclusion which
l)leases his iInagination, or fa,.ours some passion or self-interest.
His own supcrior intelligence will then be, as I haye said, pressed
into the ser,-ice of his inclinations. It is, indeed, no feeblc
blow that win suffice to destroy a giant; but if a giant resolyes
to conllnit suicide, it is a giant that deals the blow.
'Vhen, howe,-er, we ha,-e made up our n1Íllds as to the im-
portance of
eeking in every casc for b'uth with an unprejudiced
n1Ïlld, the gl'eatest difficulty still renlains; which arises frolll
the confidcnce we are apt to feel that we have already done this,
and have sought for truth with succe:5s. For e,-ery one nlust of
course bc convinced of the truth of his own opinion, if it be
properly caUeel his opinion; and yet the variety of men's
opinions furuishes a proof. how. many must be mistaken. If
any onc, then, would guard against n1Ìstakc, as far a
his intel-
lectual facultics will allow, he 11lust lnake it the .first question
in cach, , Is this true?' It is not enough to believe what JOu

OJ Trutll.

rE
say i.

Inaintain; you must maintain what you belicye, and nlailltain
it because JOu believe it; and that, on the most careful and
inl partial view of the evidence on both ßidcs. For anyone may
bring himself to believe almost anything that he is inclined to
belieye, and thinks it becoming or expedient to maintain.
Somc persons, accordingly, W}10 describe thernsel ves-in one
sense, correctly-as (folio/wing the dictates of consciel}ce,' are
doing so only in the sanle sense in ,,-hich a pcrson who is
driying in a carriage may be said to follo.w his hor
es, which go
in ,,-hateyer direction he guides them. It is in a determination
to ' ohey the truth,' and to follow wherever she may lead, that
the genuine love of truth consists; and this can be rcalized
in practice only by postponing an other questions to that which
ought ever to come foremost-' 'Yhat is the truth?' I f this
question be asked only in the second place, it is likely to
receive a very different answer from what it would if it had
been asked in the fi'rst place. The nlÌnds of most men are pre-
occupied hy some fceling or other which influences their judg-
ment (eithcr on the side of truth or of error, as it may happen)
and enlists thcir lcarning and ability on the side, whatever it
may be, which they are predisposed to adopt.
I shall merely enunlerate a few of the most C01l1mon of
these feclings that present obstacles to the pursuit or propaga-
tion of truth :-Aversion to doubt-desire of a SUllposed happy
mediunl-the loyc of system-the dread of the eharaetcr of in-
consistency-thc love of lloyelty-the dread of innoyation-
undue dt'fereucc to human authority-thc loye of approbation,
and the drena of censure-regard to secluing expediency.
The grcatest of all thcse obstacles to the hahit of fo11o" ing
truth is the last n1cntioncd-the tendcncy to look, in the first
instancc, to the er;cpedient. It is this principle that infiueuces
111cn to the rcseryation, or to the (so-callcd) developn1ent, but
real depravation, of truth; and that leads to pious frauds in one
or othcr of the t" 0 classes into" hich thc

naturally fall, of
positi,'e and negati,'e-thc ouc, thc introduction and propagation
of" hat i8 fal
c; t}lC other, the H1ere toleration of it. IIc ,,,ho
lu'opagates a delusion, and he who connives at it ,,'hen already
e
istiHg, both alike tamper with truth. 'Ye nlust neithcr lead
nor leare n1ClL to n1Ïstake fal
ehood for truth. Not to unde-
ceiyc, is to dcceiye. Thc giving, or not correcting, fabe reasons

Es:-\ay i.]

Annotations.

for right c0l1clusion8-falsc grounds for right hclicf-falsc prin-
ciplcs for right pl'acticc j the holding forth or fo:-\tcring false
consolations, fabc encouragenlcnts, and false sanctions, or con-
niving at their bcing hcld forth or ùclicvcd, are all pious frauds.
This 8prings from, and it will fo
ter and increasc, a "rant of
vcncration for truth j it is an affront InÜ on 'the Spirit of
rrruth:' it is a hiring of the idolatrous Syrians to fight the
battlcs of the Lord God of Isracl. And it is on this ground
that we should adhere to the most scrupulous fairness of state-
111cnt aud arglllncnt. lIe who bclieves that sophistry will
always in the end prove injurious to the cause supported hy it,
is probably right in that belief j but if it be for that reason
that he ahstains from it,-if he avoid fallacy, wholly or partly,
through fear of detection,-it is plaill he is no sincere votary of
tru tho
On the same principle, we are bound never to countenance any
erroncous opinion, however sccn1Íngly bencficial in it
results-
ncver to connive at any salutary delusion (as it may appear),
but to opcn the eyes (when opportunity offers, and in propor-
tion as it offers) of those we are instructing, to any n1Ïstake they
may labour under, though it n1ay be one "hich leads. then1
ultilnately to a true reslùt, and to one of which they n1Íght
otherwisc fail. rrhe temptation to depart from this principle is
sonletimcs exccssivcly strong, because it will often be the case
that mcn will be in SOBle dangcr, in parting with a long-
a(hnitted errol', of abandoning, at the sanle time, some truth
they have been accustomed to connect with it. Accordingly,
ccnsurcs have been pa
scd on the endeavours to enlighten the
adhcrents of sonIe crronCOHS Churches, on the gTound that
nlany of then1 thence beconle atheists, and many, the wildest
of fanatics. That this should have been in somc instances the
case is highly probable j it is a natural result of thc pernicious
cffect
on the lnind of any systelll of bliud, ullinquiriug acqui-
esccnce j such a systcm is an Evil Spirit, which wc nlust cxpcct
will cruelly rend and mangle the patient as it comes out of
hiln, and will leave him half dead at its departure. There will
often bc, and oftcllcr appear to be, danger in ren10ving a
mistake; the danger that those who ha,-e been long used to act
rightly on erroneous principles may fail of the desired conclu-
sions WhCll ulldeccivcd. In such cat\es it requires a thorough

OJ Truth.

[Essay i.

love of truth, and a firm reliance on divine sUl)port, to adhere
steadily to the straight course. If ,,-e give .way to a dread of
clanger fronl the inculcation of any truth, physical, moral, or
religious, we manifest a "ant of faith in God's po'wer, or in the
win to maintain I-lis own cause. There may be danger attend-
ant on every truth, since there is none that may not be per-
verted by some, or that may not give offence to others; but, in
the case of anything which plainly appears to be truth, every
danger must be braved. "r e must nlaintain the truth as we
have received it, and trust to IIÏln who is ' the Truth' to prospcr
and defend it.
That we shall indeed best further His cause by fearless per-
severance in an open and straight course, I am firnlly persuaded;
but it is not only when we perceive the mischiefs of falsehood
and disguise, and tIle beneficial tendency of fairness and can dour,
that ,ve are to be followers of truth; the trial of our faith is
'when we cannot perceive this: and the part of a lover of Truth
is to follow her at all seeming hazards, after the exalllple of
IIim who' came into the ,,-orlel that lIe ::;hould bear witness to
the Truth.' This straightforward course lnay not, indeed,
obtain 'the praise of men.' Courage, liberality, activity, and
other good qualities, are often highly prized by those who do
not possess them in any grcat degree; but the zealous, thorough-
going lo\-e of truth is not very luuch admired or liked, or indeed
understood, except by those who possess it. But Truth, as
Bacon says, (only doth judge itself,' and, (howsoe\Ter these
things are in nlen's dcpraved judgments and affections, it teacheth
that the inquiry of Truth, which is the love-lnakillg or ,,-ooing
of it-the knowledge of Truth, which is the presence of it-and
the helief of Truth, which is the enjoying of it-is the sovereign
good of human nature.'

ESS
\ Y II. OF DEA1'II.

M EN fear death as children fear to go into the dark; and
as that natural fcar in children is increased with tales,
so is the other. Certainly, the contemplation of death, as the
wagcs of sin, and passage to another world, is holy and reli-
gious; but the fear of it, as a tribute due unto nature, is ,veak.
Yet in religious meditations there is sometimes mixture of
vanity and of superstition. You shaH read in some of the
friars' books of mortification, that a nlan should think with
himself what the pain is, if he have but his finger's end
pressed, or tortured, and thereby imagine what the pains of
death are when the "hole body is corrupted and dissolved;
when lllany tinH
s death passcth with le
s pain than the torture
of a lilnb-fol' the nlost vital parts are not the quickest of
sense: and by him that 8pake only as a philosopher and natural
man, it ,vas well said, , Pompa mortis magis terrct quam mol'S
ipsa. Jl Groans, and convulsions, and a discoloured face, anù
friends weeping, and blacks, and obsequies, and the like, show
death terrible.
It is worthy the obser,?ing, that there is no passion in
the mind of man so ,veak, but it nlates 2 and masters
the fear of death j and therefore death is no such terrible
enemy when a man hath so Inany attendants about him that
can win the combat of him. Revenge triumphs oyer death;
loye slights it; honour aspireth to it; grief flieth to it; fear
preoccupateth 3 it j nay, ,ve read, after Otho the emperor had
81ain hinlselt
pity (which is the tcnderest of affections) pro-

1 'The pomp of death is more terrible than death itself.' Probably suggested
by a letter of
elleca to Lucilius, 24.
2 :\late. To subdue; vanquish; 0l:erpo7('pr,
'The Fren('hmen be hath so mated,
And their courage abated,
That they are but half men.' -Skelton.
'::\Iy sense she has mated.' -Shakespere.
So to give check-mate.
3 rreoccupate. Tu anticipate.
, To provide so tenderl
. by preoccupation,
Ab no spider ma
' suck poison out of a rose.'-Gm'/zct.

L4-

OJ Death.

[Essay ii.

yoked] many to die out of mere compassion to thcir sovereign,
and as the truest sort of followers. Nay, Seneca adds, niceness
and satiety: 'Cogita quanldiu eadem feeeris; mori velIe, non
tantum fortis, aut miser, sed etiam fastidiosus potest.'2 'A man
"Tould die, though he 'v ere neither valiant nor miserable, only
upon a ,veariness to do the sanle thing so oft over and over.'
It is 110 less ,,'orthy to observe, ho,v little alteration in good
spirits the approaches of death nlake; for they appear to be the
same mCll till the last instant. Augustus Cæsar died in a com-
plilIlent: 'Li,.ia, conjugii nostri memor viye, et vale.'3 Tiberius
in dissimulation, as Tacitus saith of hiln, , Jam Tiberium vires
et corpus, non dissimulatio, deserebant: H 'T espasian in a jest,
sitting upon the stool, 'U t puto Deus fio:' Galba ,,-ith a
sentence, 'Feri, si ex re sit populi Romani,'5 holding forth his
neck: Septimus Severus in dispatch, 'Adeste, si quid mihi
restat agenduIIl,'6 and the like. Certainly the Stoics bestowed
too much cost upon death, and by their great preparations made
it appear more fearful. Better, saith he, 'qui finem vitæ ex-
trenlum inter nlunera ponat naturæ.' 7 It is as natural to die
as to be born; and to a little infant, perhaps, the one is as
painful as the other. He that dies in an earnest pursuit, is
like one that is wounded in hot blood; ,,-ho, for the tÍlIle, scarce
feels the hurt; and therefore a n1ind fixed and bent upon some-
what that is good, doth avert the dolours 8 of death: but, above
all, believe it, the sweetest canticle is, 'Nunc din1Ïttis,'9 when a
man hath obtained \vorthy ends and expectations. Death hath
this also, that it openeth the gate to good f
une, and extin-
gui
heth envy: 'Extinctus alIlabitur idem. JlO

1 Proyoke. To excite; to move (to exertion or feeling of any kind, not, as now,
merely to anger). 'Your zeal hath provoked ver
- many.'-2 Cor. ix. 2.
2 Ad Lzlcil. 77.
3 (Livia, mindful of our wedlock, li'Te, and fhrewell:-Suetonius, Aug. "lit. c. 100.
4 'His powers and bodily strength had abandoned Tiberiu
, but not his di:-;simu-
Jation.' -Annal. vi. ,r)O.
5 'ðtrike, if it he for the benefit of the Roman people.'-Tacit. Hist. i. 4 1 .
6 'Hasten, if anything rpmains for me to do.'-Dio. Cas. 76, ad fin.
7 'He who accounts the close of life among the boons of nature.'-Juv. Sat. 357.
8 Dolours. Pains.
, He ùrew the dolours from the wounded part.'-Pope's Homer.
9 'Now lettest thou thy servant depart.'-Luke ii. 29,
10 The same man shall be beloved w hCll deal.

Essay ii.]

Annotations.

AXTITHETA O
DEATH.

PRO.
, Non invenias inter humanos affectum
tam pusillum, qui si intcllllatur paulo
vehCUlcntius, non mortis mctum supcrct.
, Thel'e is no human passion so weak
and contemptible, Uwt it ma,lf not easily
be so lu:(qldened as to Ol.'ercome tlte fear
of deatlt.'

COXTRA.
'Præstat ad omnia, cHam ad virtu-
tcm, curriculum longmn, quam bre\'e.
, In all tlti'lg.<;, even in vidlle, a long
race is more condu.cive to success tltan a
sltOrt one.

'..\.bsque spatiis vitæ majoribus, nee
pcrficere datur, nec perdiscere, nee
pænitcre.
( It is only in a long life that time is
a.fforded us to complete aJlytltÎllg, to
learn anythiJlg thoroughly, or to 'reform
oneself.'

ANKOTATIOXS.

, Tllel.e is no passion in tile 'rilind of Ulan so 'weak but it 'Jnates
and /llasters tlte fear of death.'

Of all the instances that can be giyen of recklessness of life,
there 18 none that conles near that of the workmen enlployed
in what is called dry-pointing; the gt'inding of needles and of
table-forks. The fine steel-dust which they breathe brings on a
painful disease of which they are allnost sure to die before forty.
And yet not only are nlen tenlpted by high ,vages to engage in
this employment, but they resist to the utnlost all the con-
triyances devised for diminishing the danger; through fear that
this would cause more ,vorkmen to offer themselves, and thus
lower wages!
The case of sailors, soldiers, nliners, and others who engage
in hazardous enlployn1ents, is nothing in cOlnpari$on of this;
because people of a sanguine tern per hope to escape the dangers.
But the dry-pointers haye to encounter, not the frisk, but the
certainty, of an early and painful death. The thing ,,-ould seenl
incredible, if it \yere not so fully attested. All this proves that
ayarice overcomes the fear of death. And so may vanity: witness
the many women who \vear tight dresses, and will even employ
washes for the complexion which they kno\v to be highly dan-
gerous and cvcn dcstructive to their health.

Of Death.

[Essay ii.

, Certainly the contnnplation of death, as the wages of sin and
the passage to another world, is holy and religious.'
It is when considered as the passage to another world that
the contemplation of death becomes holy and religious ;-that
is, calculated to promote a state of preparedness for our setting
out on this great voyage,-our departure from this world to
enter the other. It is manifest that those who are engrossed
with the things that pertain to this life alone; ,yho are devoted
to worldly pleasure, to worldly gain, honour, or po\ver, are cer-
tainly not preparing themselves for the pa:5sage into anothcr:
,vhile it is equally manifest that the change of he
rt, of desires,
,vishes, tastes, thoughts, dispositions, ,,,hich constitutes a meet-
ness for entrance into a happy, holy, heavenly state,-the hope
of which can indeed' mate and master the fear of death,'-
must take place here 011 earth; for, if not, it will not take place
after death.
There is a remarkable phcnomenon connected with insect
life 'which has often occurred to my mind while meditating on
the subject of preparedness for a future state) as pre:senting a
curious analogy.

Iogt persons know that every butterfly (the Greek name for
,vhich, it is rel11arkable, is the sanle that signifies also the Soul,-
Psyche) comes from a grub or caterpillar; in the language of
naturalists called a lærva. The last name (which signifies lite-
rally a 'Jlask) was introduced by Lillnæus, because the cater-
pillar is a kind of outward COYCrillg, or disguise, of the future
butterfly within. For, it has been ascertained by curious micro-
scopic examination, that a distinct buttcrfly, only unc1evelopec1
and not full-grown, is contained within the body of the cater-
pillar; that this latter has its own organs of digestion, respira-
tion, &c., suitable to its lalTa-life, quite distinct from, anù
independent of, the future butterfly which it encloses. 'Yhen
the In'opcr period arrives, and the life of the insect, in this its
first stage, is to close, it becon1es what is called a pupa,
encloscd in a chrysalis or COCOOll (often composed of silk; as is
that of the silkworm ,vhich supplies us that important articlc),
and lies torpirl for a tilDe witl1Ïn this natural coffin, fronl which
it issues, at the proper pel'iod, as a perfect buttf'rfly.
But SOlllctimes this process is marred. There is a numerous

Essay ii.J

All/lolalions.

trihe of in
eet
wcll known to naturalists, called Ichneumon-
flies j ,,,hieh in their larva-state arc JJ(u'asitical; that is, inhabit,
and fecd on, OthCl' larvæ. rrlle Ichueumon-fly, heing provided
,vith a long sharp sting, which is in fact an ovipositor (cgg-
laycr), picrces with this the body of a caterpillar in seycral
placcs, and deposits hcr cggs, which are thcre hatched, and
feed, as grubs (lal'væ) on the inward parts of their victim.-
A most wonderful circumstance cOllncctcù with this process is,
that a caterpillar which has been thus attacked gocs on fceding,
and apparently thriving quite as "Tel], during the "hole of its
lar\ya-life, as those that have escaped. For, by a "Tonderful
provision of instinct, the ichncumon-grubs within do not injure
any of the organs of the larva, but feed only on the future
butterfly encloscd within it. And consequcntly, it is hardly
possible to distinguish a caterpillar ,yhich has these enemies
within it fro111 those that are untouched.-But whcn the period
arriycs for tIIC close of the larva-life, the r1iffercnce appears.
Yon may often ohser\
e the common cabbage-caterpillars rctiring,
to undergo their change, into some'sheltered spot,-such as the
,valls of a sUlllnler-bouse; and some of them-those that ha\Te
escaped the para.3ites,-assuming the pupa-state, from which
they en1ergc, butterflies. Of the unfortunate catcrpiliar that
lIas been pl'eyed upon, nothing remains but an empty skin.
The hidden butterfly has bccn secretly consumed.
K ow. is there not something analogous to this wonderful
phenomenon, in the conditi"on of son1e of our race ?-may not a
man have a kind of secret encluy within his own bosom,
destroying his soul,- Psyclze,-though "ithout interfering with
his well-being during tlte present stage of his existence; and
"hose presence may never be detected till the tin1e arrives when
the last great change should take place?

, Death Itath tltis also, tltat it openetlt tlte gate to good Jaule, and
extinguislzeth enry.'
TIaC'on might have added, that tIle gencrosit).. extended to
thc dcparted is sometimes carried rather to an extreme. To
abstain from censure of them is fair enough. But to
ake an
ostentatious parade of the supposed adn1Ïrable qualitics of
pcrsons who attracted liO notice in their life-time, and again
(which is lunch lnore eOID1TIOll), to puhlish laudatory biographies
c

Of Deatlt.

[Essay ii.

(to say nothing of raising subscriptions for monumental testi-
monials) of persons ,vho did attract notice in a disreputable "Tay,
and respecting ,,,horn it would have been the kindest thing to
let them be forgotten,-this is surely going a little too far.
But private friends and partizans are tenlpted to pursue this
course by the confidence that no one will come forward to con-
tradict thenl: according to the lines of Swift,-
, De ll10rtuis nil nisi bonum;
"Yhen scoundrels die, let all bemoan 'em.'
Then, again, there are SOlne who hesto,v eulogisms that are
really just on persons whom they had always been accustomed
to revile, calumniate, thwart, and persecute on every occasion;
and this they seem to regard as establishing their own cl)aracter
for eminent generosity. N or are they usually mistaken in
their calculation j for if not absolutely commended for their
l11agnanimous moderation, they usually escape, at least, the
well-deserved reproach for not haying done justice, during his
life) to the object of their posthumous praises,-for having been
occupied in opposing and insulting one who-by their own
showing-deserved quite contrary treatInent.
It Inay fairly be suspected that the one circumstance respect-
ing him ,,'hich they secretly dwell on ,vith the most satisfaction,
though they do not nlention it, is that he is dead; and that
they delight in bestowing their posthulnous honours on him,
chiefly because they are postluunous; according to the concluding
couplet in the Verses on tile Deatll of Dean Swift :-
, And since you dread no further lashes,
l\Iethinks you may forgive his ashes.'
But the Public is "
onderfully tolerant of any persons who
will but, in any way, speak favourably of the dead, even ,,,hen
by so doing they pronounce theil' own condenlnation.
Sometimes, however, the opposite fault is committed. Strong
IJarty feeling will lead zealous partizans to misrepresent the conduct
and character of the deceased, or to ignore (according to the modern
phrase) SOllie of the most remarkable things done by him. l
But then they generally put in for the praise of generosity
by eulogizing some very insignificant acts, and thus' damn with
faint praise.'

1
ce 3U instance of this alludpd to in the Remains qf Bishop Copleston,
1). 89-93.

ESSAY III. OF UNITY TN RELIGION.

R ELIGIO
being the chief bond of human society, it is a
happy thing when itself is well contained within the true
bond of unity. The quarrels and divisions about religion were
evils unknown to the heathen. The reason ,vas, because the
religion of the heathen consisted rather in rites and ceremonies
than in any constant belief j for you may inlagine what kind of
faith theirs was, when the chief doctOl'Sl and fathers of their
church were the poets. But the true God hath this attribute,
that He is a jealous God;2 and therefore his worship and reli-
gion "ill endure no mLxture nor partner. 'Ve shall therefore
speak a few .words concerning the unity of the Church j what
are the fruits thereof j what the bonds; and what the nleans.
The fruits of unity (next unto the "rell-pleasing of God,
which is aU in all) are two j the one towards those that are
without the Church, the other towards those that are within.
For the former, it is certain, that heresies and schisn1s are of
all others the greatest scandals, yea, more than corruption of
111anners; for as in the natural body a wound or solution of
continuity3 is 'worse than a corrupt humour, so in the spiritual:
so that nothing cloth so much keep men out of the Church, and
driye n1en out of the Church, as breach of unity j and, there-
fore, whensoeyer it cometh to that pass that one saith,' Ecce
in deserto,H another saith, 'Ecce in penetralibus,'5-that is,
,,-hen some men seek Christ in the conyenticles of heretics, and
others in an outward face of a church, that voice had need
continually to sound in men's ears, ' K olite exire.'6 The Doctor
of the Gentiles (the propriet y 7 of whose yocation S drew him to

1 Doctors. Teachers. '
itting in the midst of the doctors.'-Luke ii. 4 6 .
2 Exodus xx. 5.
3 Solution of continuity. Tl
e destruction of the texture, or cohes-ion of the pads
if an animal body. 'The solid parts may be contracted by dissolving their con-
t inllity.' -Aióllthnof.
4 'Lo! in the desert.' 5 'Lo! in the sanctuary.'-JIatt. xxiv. 26.
6 'Go not out.' 7 Propriety. Pecttliar qllality; property.
8 Y ocation. Calling; state of life and duties of tlte emóraced profession. 'That
every member of thy holy Church in his vocation and ministr:i.'-Collectfor Good
Friday.
C 2,

OJ Unity in Religion.

[Essay iii.

have a special care of those ,,
ithout) saith, (If a heathen COlTIe
in, and hear you speak with several tongues, will he not say
that you are mad?' 1 and, certainly, it is little better: when
atheists and profane persons do hear of so many discordant and
contrary opinions in religion, it doth avert 2 them from the
Church, and maketh them 'to sit down in t11e chair of the
scorners.' It is but a light thing to ùe vouched in so serious a
matter, but yet it expresseth well the deformity. There is a
master of scoffiug, that in his catalogue of books of a feigned
library, sets down this title of a book, Tile Morris-Dance of
Heretics: 3 for, indeed, every sect of them hath a diyerse 4 pos-
ture, or cringe/ by themselves, which cannot but move derision
in worldlings and depraved politics/ 'who are apt to contemn
holy things.
As for the fruit towards those that are within, it IS peace,
'which containeth infinite b]essings; it establisheth faith; it
kindleth charity; the outward peace of the Church distilleth
. into peace of conscience, and it turneth the labours of 'writing
and reading controversies into treatises of mortification 7 and
devotion.
Concerning the bonds of unity, the true placing of thenl
importeth 8 exceedingly. There appear to be two extremes; for
to certain zealots all speech of pacification is odious. ' Is it
peace, Jehu?' "Yhat hast thou to do 'with peace? turll thee

1 I Cor. xiv. 23.
2 Avert. To repel; to turn awa.lf. 'Even cut themselves off from all oppor-
tunities of prosel
Tting others by arerlÏllg them from their cOll1pany.'- renn.
8 Rabelais. Panta!!. ii. 7.
4 Diverse. IJffferent. 'Four great beasts came up from the sea, diverse on('
from another.'-Daniel vii. 3.
5 Cringe. A boLV. Seldom used as a substanthre.
, Far from me
Ee fawning cringe, and false dissembling looks.'-Pldllips.
, He is tIle new court-god, and well applyes
'Vith sacrifice of knees, of crooks, and cringe/-Ben Jonson.
6 Politics. Polilicians. 'That which time servers and politics do for earthl.r
advantages, we will do for !'piritual.'-Bislwp Hall.
7 l\Iortification. The subduing of sinful prupellsilies. (Our modern usp ne,-er
occurs in Scripture, where' the word always means' to put to death.') , You see
no real mortification, or
elf-ùenial, or eminent charity in the common lives of
Christia 11S.' - La lce.
S Import. To he of 'u:eigld or consequence.
"Yhat else more serious
Importelh thee to know-this bears.'-Shalcespere.

Essay iii.]

Of C/-nity in Reli!Jioil.

behind me.,l Peace is not the Juatter, but following and
party. Contrariwise, certain Laodiceans and lukewarm pcrsons
think they nlay acconlmodate
points of religion by miùdle
ways, and taking part of bot.h, and witty3 reconcileulent:s, as if
they would nlake an arbitrelllene between God and Ulan. Both
thcse c
tremes are to be avoided; which will be done if thc
league of Christians, pcnned by our Saviour Himself, ,,-ere in
the two cross clauses thereof soundly and plainly expounded:
, lIe that is not with us is agaiust us;' and again, , lIe that is not
against us is with us;' that is, if the points fundamental, and
of suhßtancc in religion, were truly discerned and distinguished
from point.s not mereli' of faith, but of opinion, order, or - good
intention. This is a t.hing may seem to many a matter trivial,
and done already; but if it n ere done le
s partially, it would be
club raced Blore generally.
Of this I may giye only this advice, according to 111Y small
model. )Ien ought to take heed of rending God's Church by
tlfO kinds of controversies; the one is, ,vhen the matter of the
l)oillt controverted is too slnall and light, nor worth the heat and
strife about it, kindlcd only by contradiction; for, as it is noted
by one of the fathers, Christ's coat. indeed had no seaIn, but the
Church's yesture was of divers colours; whereupon he saith, ' In
,oeste yarietas sit, scissura non
it,'6-they be two things, unity,
and uniformity; the other is, when the matt.er of the point
controverted is great, but it is driyen to an 0\7er-great subtilty
and obscurity, so that it becometh a thing rather iugenious than
substantial. A Inan that is of judgnlent and understanding
shall sometimes hear ignorant men differ, and know well 'within
hilnself, that those \l hich so differ Inean one thing, aud yet they
theln
elve:s would never agree: and if it COlue so to pass in that

1 I Kings ix. 13.
2 Accommodate. To reconcile 'It"lzat see/its ÍtlCollSÌ8fellt. 'Part know how to
rrccol1llllodate St. James and St. Paul better than some late reconcilers.'-.Xo1"t"is.
3 \\Titty. Iugenious; Í1wenlÍl:e.
'The deep-revolving u'iily Buckingham.' - Slzakespere.
4 Arbitrement. FÍtwl decision; judgment.
, ".. e of the oflending side
:\rust keep aloof from 8trict arbï.trements.'-Slzakespere.
5
It'rely. A.bsolutely; Purely; Unmixedl!!, (from the Latin me/
lls.)
, \\T e are merel!! cheated of our livcs by druukards.'-òlwkesJ.tere.
6 'Let there 'Le variety in the robe, but let there be no rent.'

Of Unity in Religion.

[Essay iii.

distance of judgment ,,'hich is between man and nlan, shall .we
not think that God above, that knows the heart, doth not
discern that frail men, in :some of their contradictions, intcnd
the samc thing and accepteth 1 of both? The nature of such
controversies is excellently expressed by St. Paul, in the ,varning
and prccept that hp giveth concern
ng the same, 'Deyita pro-
fanas yocum novitates, et oppositiones falsi nominis scientiæ.'2

I en creatc oppositions ,,-hich are not, and put them into ne,v
ternlS so fixed; as 3 wl1ereas the nleaning ought to govern the
term, the term in effect governeth the meaning.
Thcre be also two false pc aces, or unities: the one, ,,-J1en the
peace is grounded but upon an inlplicit ignorance; for all colours
"Till agree in the dark: the other, 'v hen it is picced up upon a
direct admission of contraries in fundamental points; for truth
and falsehood in such things are likc the iron and clay in the
toes of N ebuchadnezzar's image 4 -they may cleave but they will
not incorporate.
Concerning the means of procuring unity, men must beware,
that, in the procuring or munitin
of religious unity, they do
not dissoh-e ana deface the laws of charity and of human
society. There be two s".ords amongst Christians, the spiritual
and the temporal, and both have their due office and place in
the nutilltellance of religion; but we may not take up the third
sword, which is :ßlahonlet's s" ord, or like unto it-that is, to
propagate religion by 'val'S, or by sanguinary persecutions to
force cOllscicnccs-except it be in cascs of oyert scandal, blas-
phemy, or intern1ixture of practice against the state j much less
to nourish seditions j to authorise conspiracies and rebellions;
to put the sword int.o the people's hands, and the like, tending
to the subversion of all governnlent, which is the ordinance of

1 Accept of. To approve; receit'e fm"ourabl!J. 'I will 3pp('a
e him with the
prei'ellt that goeth before me, . . . }Jeraùventure he will accept of me.'-Ge'it. xxxii.
2 '..Avoid profane and vain bahblings, and oppositions of science fhlsely so called.'
I Tim. vi. 20.
3 That (denoting consequence.) , The mariners were so conquered by the storm
as they thought it uest with 8tricken
ails to )-ield to be governed by it.'-Sidlley.
4 IJaJliel ii. 33.
5 :\Iuniting_ The defelldil1!J,forlif!Jing. ' fly protracting of tJme, King Henry
might fortifie alld 11l11llile allltl1lgerous place
and pa'Ss3ges.'-Hall.
, ....\ll that fight against her and her munitions.' -Jeremia/I,
xix. 7.
, The arm our soldier,
Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter,
'Yith other t/lUniuzellts and pett)T helps.' - 8hakespere.

E
>::Iay iii.J

Of l./"nity ill Ileligioll.

Goel; for t.his is but t.o dash thc first table against the second;
and so to consider men as Christians, a:s 1 we forget that they
are lnen. Lucretiu
the poet, when he beheld the act of Aga-
nlcmnon, that could endure the sacrificing of his own daughter,
c
claÍ1ncd :

'Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum.'2

'Yhat .would he have said, if he had known of the massacre in
France, or the powder treason of England? fIe would have
becH seven times more epicure 3 and atheist than he was; for as
the temporal sword is to be drawn with great circumspection in
ca:scs of religion, so it is a thing monstrou
to put it into the
hands of the conunon people; let that be left to the anabapt.ists
and other furies. It .was great hlasphelny when the devil said,
, I ,,-ill ascend and be like the IIighest;1-I but it is greater
blasphemy to personate God, and bring Ilitn in saying, 'I will
descend and be like the prince of darkness:' and what is it
better, to n1ake the cause of religion to descend to the cruel
and execrable actions of murdering princes, butchery of people,
and subversion of states and goyernments? Surely this is to
bring down the 1Ioly Ghost, instead of the likeness of a dove,
in the shape of a yulture or raven; and to set out of the bark
of a christian church, a flag of a bark of pirates and assassins:
therefore it is most necessary that the Church, by doctrine and
decree, princes by their sword, and all learniugs both christian
and moral, as by theil' mercury rod to darllll and send to hell
for ever, those facts and opinions tcnding to the support of the
san1C, as hath been already in good part done. Surely in
councils conccruing religiou, that counsel of the apostle should
be prefixed, 'Ira horuÏI1Ís non in1plet justitiam Dei ;"j and it
,vas a notable observation of a wise father, and no less in-
genuously confe8
ed, that those which held and persuaded 6 pres-
sure of consciences, were c0I11111on]y interested therein thelllSeh'es
for their own ends.

1 As. That.
ee page 22.
2 '
o many evil8 could religion i1ll1uce.'-Lucret. i. 9.')'
3 Epicure. Epicureall; a follower of Epicurlls. ' Here he describeth the fm.)'
of the Epicures, which is the highest and d

pest mischief of nIl; even to COll-
tempne tile very God.' 4 Isaiah xiv. I..J..
5 'The wrath of man workcth not the righteousness of God.'-James i. 20.
6 Per:;uade. '1'0 illC"ulcate. 'To chilùren afraid of vain images, we persuade
confidence Ù)' making thcm handle and look near such tbiugs.'-Bishop Taylor.

24-

Of Uuity in Religion.

[Essay iii.

ANNOT.ltTIONS.

, It is a happy thing 'lv/zen Religion is 'well contained within the
true bond of unity.' 1
It is, thercfore, very important to have a clear notion of the
nature of the christian unity spoken of in the Scriptures, and
to understand in what this 'true bond of unity' consists, so
often alluded to and earnestly d,,
clt on l)y our sacred writers.
The unity they speak of does not mean agreenzent in doctrine,
nor yet concord and mutual good will; though these are strongly
insisted on by the apostles. N or, again, does it mean that all
Christians bclong, or ought to belong, to some oue society on
earth. This is what the apostles never aimed at, and what
11ever ,vas actually the state of things, from the time that
the cln'istian religion extended beyond the city of Jerusalem.
The Church is undoubtedly one, and so is the hurnan race one;
but not as a society or community, for, as such, it is only oue
,vhen considered as to its future existence. 2 The teaching of
Scripture clearly is, that belie\Ters on earth are part of a great
society (church or congrpgation), of ,,,hich the Head is in
heaven, and of which many of the members only' live unto
God,' or exist in his counsels,-solne having long since dcparted,
and some being not yct born. The universal Church of Christ
may thcreforc be said to be aXE ill refcrcnce to 1111\1, its
suprerne I-Icad in heaven; but it is not one c01JuJlunity on
earth. And even so the human race is one in resp('ct of the
One Creato'r and Governor; hut this does not make it one
fanzily or one state. And though all men are bound to live in
peace, and to he kindly disposcd to\\-ards cvcry fcllo,v crcature,
and all bound to agree in thinking and doing whatcyer is
right, yet they are not at all bound to live under one :-Jlugle
governnzent, extcnding over the whole ,vorl(1. Nor, again, are
all nations bounù to have the san1e forlll of govcrUlncllt, regal
or rcpublican, &c. That is a matter left to their discretion.
But all are hound to do thcir hcst to pronlote the great objects
for which all govcrnnlcnt is instituted,-good order, justice, and
I)ublic prosperity.

1 Great part of what follows is extracted from a charge of some
Tears back.

:;ce Bi
llOp Hind's JIi...,.tory of tlte Origin of Cllristiallity.

E
say iii.]

Atl71otaliol1S.

And cven so the Apostles founded christian Churches, all
ha
ed on t.he same principles, all sharing common privileges,-
, One Lord, oue faith, OllC baptism,'-anc1 aU haying the l5ame
ohject in view, but all quite independent of each other. .And
while, by t.he inspiration of IIim who linew what was in
Ian, they
delineated those christian principles .which )Ian could not hayc
de,-iscd for hinlself, each Church has bcen left, by the 8alne
di'Tinc foresight, to make the appJication of t.hose principles in
its synlhols, its forms of worship, and its ecclesiastical regula-
tions; and, while steering its course by the chart and compass
which his holy "
orcl supplies, to regulatc for itself the sails
and rudder, according to the winds and currents it Inay meet
,,,ith. N ow, I have little doubt that the sort of yariation
resulting fron1 this independence and freedom, so far from
breaking the bond, is the bcst pr
ser"atiYe of it. ....\. nun1ber of
neighùouring falnilics, living ill perfect unity, will bo thro\yn
into discord as soon as you cOlnpel them to form one family,
and to oùserve in things intrinsically indifferent, the same
rules. One, for instance, likes early hours, and another late;
one likes the windows open, and another shut; and t.hus, by
being brought too close together, they are driycn into ill-will,
by one being perpetually forced to give 'way to another. Of
this character were the disputations which arose (though they
suhsequcntly assumeù a different charact.er) about church music,
the posture of the communicants, the colours of a minister's
drcss, the time of keeping Easter, &c.
This independence of each Church is not to be confounded
.with the error of leaving too much to individual discretion of
the minister or members of each Church. To haye absolutcly
no tcrms of communion at all,-no tests of the fit.ness of any
one to be receiyed as a luember, or a minist.er of each Church
respecti,'ely,-would be to renounce entirely the character of a
christian Clllu'ch; since of such a. body it is plaill that a Jew,
a PolJTtheist, or an Athcist n1Íght, quite as consistently as a
Christian, he a lllcluher, or o"on a gOYel'llor. And though the
Scriptures, and the Scriptures only, are to be appealed to for a
decision on questions of doctrine, yet to have (as some haye
wildly proposed) no test of cou1mullion but the vcry word8 of
Scripturc, would he scarcely lcss cxtravagant than haying no
te
t at all, since thcre is 110 one professing Christiallitr who

Of Unity in Religion.

[Essay iii.

does not maintain that his sentiments are in accordance with
the true meaning of Scripture, hon-ever absurd or l)ernicious
these sentiments filay really be. For it is notorious that Scrip-
ture itself is at least as liable as human formularies (and indeed
more so) to have forced interpretations put on its language.
Accordingly, there is no christian community ,yhich dops
not, in some way or other, apply some other test besides the
very "
ords of Scriptlu'e. Sorue Churches, indeed, do not
reduce any such tests to ,yriting, or express it in any fixed
forn1, so as to enable everyone to know beforehand precisely
ho\v much he will be required to bind himself to. But, neyer-
theless, these Churches do apply a te3t, and very often a nluch
lnore stringent, elaborate, and minute test than our Liturgy and
Articles. In such conlmunities, the candidate pastor of a con-
gregation is not, to be sure, called on to subscribe in ,vriting a
definite confession of faith, dra1vn up by learned and pious
persons after mature deliberation, and publicly set forth by
common authority,-bllt he is caned upon to converse with
the leading n1embers of the congregation, and satisfy theln as
to the soundness of his views; not, of course, by 111crely
rcpeating texts of Scripture-which a man of any views might
do, and do honestly j-but by eXplaining the sense in which he
understands the Scriptures. Thus, instead of subscribing the
Thirty-nine Articles, he subscribes the sentiments of the leading
members-for the time being-of that particular congregation
over which he is to he placed as teacher. l
And thus it is that tests of some kind or other, written or
unwritten (that is, transn1Ïtted by oral tradition), fixed for the
whole Body, or variable, accor(1ing to the discretion of particular
governors, are, and ll1ust be, used in every christian Church.
This is doing no more than is eyidently allo\yable and expedient.
But it is quite other,vise when any Church, by an unwarrantable
assuDlpt.ion, requires all who ,,'ould clailu the christian nalne
to assent to her doctrines and COUfOl'lll to her worship, whether
they approvc of then1 or not,-to renounce an exercise of their
OWll judgnlent, and to profess belief in whatcyer the Church has
reccived or may hereafter receive.

1 Cautions for the Times, pnge -4-51.

ay iii.]

Annotations.

2ï

, Tile religion of the /lel1tJlen consisted ralhe]. in Tiles and ce'l'e-
rJlonies than in allY constant religious belief. . . . But the
true God hatlt this attribute,' &c.

Bacon herc noticcs the characteristic tI1at distillgui
11es the
christian rcligion from thc religion of the heathen. The reli-
gion of the heathen not only 1-ras not true, but was not even
supported as true; it not ouly deserved no bclief, but it
dernanded none. The vcry pretension to truth-the very
deulalld of faith-were characteristic distinctions of Chri:5tianity.
It is 'Truth resting on evidence, and J'equiring belief in it, on
the ground of it::, truth. The first object, thcrefore, of the
adherents of such a rcligion must be that Truth which its divine
Author point cd out as defining the very nature of his kingdom,
of his objects, and of his claims. 'For this cause came I into
the world, that I might bear witnes
unto the truth. Evcry one
that is of the truth hcareth my voice. Jl And if'rruth could be
uni,.crsaUy attaineù, U uity ,\ ould be attained also, since Truth
is one. On the other hand, U llity may cOllcei".ahly he attained
by agreement in error; so that while by the universal adoption
of a right faith, unity ,rould be secured, incidcntally, the attain-
lllcnt of unity would be no security for truth.
It is in relation to the paramount claim of truth that the
view. we have gi,'en of the real meaning of Church lTnity in
Scripture is of so much Ï1nportance; for the mistake of repre-
senting it as consisting in having one cOlnmunity on earth, to
which all Christians belong, or ought to belong, and to .whose
governu1eut all are bound to subn1Ït, has led to truth being
lllade thc secondary, and not the paralnount, object.
'Yhat the Ilon1anist means by renouncing' pri\.ate judgment'
and adhering to the decisions of the Churcll, is, sub
tantially,
what nlany Protestants express by saying, , 'Ye lllake truth the
first and l)aranlouut object, and the othcrs, unity.' Thc two
expressions, when rightly understood, denote the same j but
they each require some explanation to prevent their being
understood incorrectly, and evcn unfairly.
.r\.. Ron1an Catholic does c
ercise priyate judglncllt, once for
all, if (not through carelessness, but on earnest and solenln

1 JOhl1 ). viii. 37.

OJ Unity in Religion.

[Essay iii.

deliberation) he resohTes to place himself completcly under the
guidance of that Church (as reprC'sent.ed hy his priest) ,,-hich he
judges to haye bccn divincly apl)ointed for that purposc. And
in so doing he considers himself, not as manifesting indifference
about truth, but as taking the way by ,,,hich he will attain
either complcte and universal religious truth, or at least a
greater amount of it than could haye been attained otherwise.
To speak of such a person as indifferent about truth, would be
not only uncharitable, but also as unreasonable as to suppose a
mall indifferent about his health, or about his property, because,
distrusting his own judgnlent on points of medicine or of law,
he places himself under the direction of those whom he has
judged to be the nIost trustworthy physician and la-wyer.
On thc other hand, a Protestant, in advocating private judg-
ment, does not, as some haye represented, necessarily maintain
that every man should set himself to study aud interpret for
himself thc Scriptures (which, "we should recollect, are ,vritten
in the I-Iebrew and Greek languages), without seeking or
accepting aiel from any instructors, whether under the title of
translators (for a translator who claims no inspiration is, mani-
festly, a hUll1all instructor of the people as to the sensc of
Scripture) or whether called commentators, preachers, or by
"hat.e,-er otller name. Indeed, considering the multitude of
tracts, conlmentaries, eXIJositions, and discourses of 'Tarious
forms, that have been put forth and assiduously circulated by
Protestants of aU denonlinations, for the avowed purpose (be it
,ycll or ill executed) of giving religious instruction, it is really
strange that such an interpretation as I ha,Te alluded to should
e,Ter ha,Te been put 011 the phrase 'private jUdglTIellt j' for, to
adyert to a parallel case of daily occurrence, all "'ould recon1-

mend a studcnt of mathclnatics, for instance, or of any branch
of natural philosophy, to seck the aid of a well-qualified pro-
fessor or tutor. And yet he would be thought to hayc studicd
in yain, if he should e\"er think of taking on trust any mathe-
ll1atical or l)hysical truth on the ,,'ord of his instructors. It is,
011 the contrary, their IJart to teach lliJJlllo'lv-by demonstration
or by expcrÏIncnt-to ,-erify each IJoint for himsclf.
On the othcr hand, thc adherents of a Church claiming to
be infallible on an essential points, and who, consequently,
profess to renounce pri,-ate judgment, these (besides that, as

E.:;;say iii. ]

Annotations.

has becn just said, they cannot but judge for themselvcs as to
lJllÆ point-that very claÏ111 itoself) have also room for the exercise
of juc1gnlcut, and oftcn do exercisc it, 011 questions as to w/tat
points are cs
ential, and for ldlich, consequently, iufallihle
rectitude is insured. l .For we should bc greatly mistakcn if wc
,vere to assume that all who have opposed ,,-hat wc are ac-
CUStOlllCc1 to call 'the Reformation' ",'cre satisfied that there
,,-as nothing in their Church that neetletl reform, or ,verc neces-
sarily inditicrent about the removal of abuses. '\T e know that,
on the contrary, many of theln pointed out and complained of,
and studied to have remedied, sundry corruptions that had
crept into their Church, and which were, in many instanccs,
sanctioned by its highest authorities.
Sincere, one must supp08e, anù strong, must have been the
conviction of se,-eral who both did ilnd suffered much in
labouring after such ren1edy. And it ,,,"ould be absurd, as well
as uncharitable, to take for granted that Eraslllus, for instance,
and, still more, Pascal, and all the J ansenists, ,vere withheld
merely by pcrsonal fear, or other personal n10tives, from revolt-
ing against the Church of Ron1e. But they conceived, no
doubt, that ,,-hat they considered Church-Unity was to be pre-
ser,'ed at any cost; that a separation from what they regal'ded
as the Catholic (or Universal) Church, ,vas a greater evil than
all others cOlllbined. If, "Without loss of unity, they could
succeed in removing any of those other evils, for such a refonn
they would gladly labour. But, if not, to Unity anything and
cverything was to be sacrificed.
Such seems to have been the sentin1ent of a Roman Catholic
priest, apparently a man of great sÌ1nplicity of character, who,
about three or four years ago, had illten-iews, at his own desire,
,vith sc,'cral of our bishops. lie spoke very strongly of the
unseemly and lamentable spectacle (and 'who could not but
agree wit.h hinl in thinking it 7) of disunion anù contention
among Christ's profcssed followers; and he dwelt much Ul)on
the duty of earnestly praying and striving for unity.

1 Thus the Jansenist
, when certain doctrines were pronounced heretical by the
Court of Rome, which condemned J ansenius for maintaining them, admitted, as in
duty bound, the decision that they 'were heretical, but denied that they were im-
plied in .Tallsellius's writings; ami of this latter point the Pope, they ::;
id, was 110
more qualified or authorbed to deciùe than any other mall.

3 0

Of Unity in Rl:li[}ion.

[Essay iii.

In reference to this point, it was thought needful to remind
him, that two parties, while apparently agreeing in their prayers
and endeavours for unity might possibly mean by it different
things; the one understanding by it the submission of all
Christians to the government of one single ecclesiastical cmn-
rnunity on ea'ì'tlt; the other, merely mutual kindness and agree-
ment. in faith. Several passages of Scripture "Tere pointed out
to hitn, tending to prove that the churches founded ùy the
Apostles were all quite independent of each other, or of any
one central Body/ though all were exhorted to 'keep the unity
of the spirit in the bond of peace.' Such unity, he was re-
minded (for he was formerly a minister of our Church), is the
subject of a special petition in our Praye1. for all Conditiûfls of
lJfen, and in several others.
It ,ras remarked to him, that Truth had a paramount claim
to be the first object; and that since Truth is one, all who reach
Truth will reach Unity; ùut that men may, and often do, gain
Unity without truth.
He 'was reminded, moreover, that agreement among Chris-
tians, though an object we should wish for, and endeavour by
all allowable means to promote, must, after all, depend on others
as much as on ourselves; and our endeavour may be cOlnpletely
defeated through their fault: whereas truth is a benefit-and a
benefit of the first importance-to those who receive it them-
selves, eyen though they should have to lalllcnt its rejection by
many others.
And it ,vas pointed out to hinl, that to pray and strive for
truth, and to be eyer open to con,-iction, does not (as he seemed
to imagine) imply a wavering faith, and an anticipation of
change. 'Yhen anyone print.s from 't/lot'eable types, this does
not in1ply that he has commit.ted, or tàat he suspects, typogra-
phical errors, any more than if he had employed an engrat'ed

1 To one among the many passages which go to prmTe this, I directed his espe-
cial attention; that in which Paul's final interview (as he belie\Ted it) with the
elders of ì\Iiletus and Ephesus is reC'orded (Acts xx.) Foreseeing the dangers to
which they would be exposed, even from false teachers amongst themselves, and of
which he had been earnestly warning them for three years, it is inconceivable that
he should not have directed them to Peter or his successors at Rome or elsewhere
if he had known of any central supreme Church, provided as an infallible guide, t

whose decisions they might f'afcly refl'r when doubts or disputes should arise. It
follows therefore inevitablJ that he knew of none.

Es.;;ay iii.]

Altltotatioll.fJ .

3 1

plate. 'rhe types are not moveahlc in the sense of being loose
and liable to casual change. IIc may bc challenging all thc
"Todd to point out an error, showing that any can be corrcctcd
if they do dctect one; though, pcrhaps, ,-he is fully convinccd
that therc are none.
lIe was, in conclusion, rClllinded that (no man can serve
two mastcrs j' not bccause they are necessarily opposed, but
because they are not necessarily combined, and cases may arise
in which the one must give way to the othcr. l There is no
uecessary opposition e,Tcn betwecn ' God and ::\Iannnol1,' if by
'
Iammon' we understand worldly prosperity. For it will
cOlllmonly happen that a man will thrive the better in the
world from the honesty, frugality, and temperance ,,-hich he
luay be practising from higher motives. And there is not even
anything necessari
y wrong in ainlÍng at teluporal advantages.
But whoevcr is resolved on obtaining wealth in one way or
another (' si possis, recte; si non, quocunq ue modo, rem')
,,'ilJ occasionally be led to violate duty j and he, again, who is
fully bent on 'seeking first thc kingdom of God and his righte-
ousness,' will sometimes find himsclf called on to incur temporal
losses. And so it is with the occasionally ri,-al claims of Truth
and of Unity, or of any two objects which n1ay possibly be, in
some instance, opposed. "lVe nlust make up our luinds 'which
is, in that ca3e, to give way. One must be the supl'eme,-must
be the 'master.'

, TVhen Atheists and profane persons do hear of so n'lany and
contrary opinions in religion, it dotlt avert tlu://" fì"01n the
CIlllrclt.'

There occurs in a late number of a leadiuO' Periodical a
o
remark, which one may find also in the mouths of many, and
in the n1Ïllds of yery many 1l10re,-that the great di,'ersity of
rcligious opinions prevailing in the .world, and the absence of all
superhunlan provision against thelll, is a proof that it is the 'will
of the .L\..lmighty that such should be the casc,-that l11ell were

1 'Either he will love the one and hate the other.' This seems to refer to cases
in which a raùical opposition between the two ùoes exist: 'or else he will cleave to
the one, and despise (i.e. disregard and neglect) the other.' This latter seem::; to be
the ùe:o;criptioll of those cases in which there is no such nece
sary opposition; onIv,
that cases will sometimes ari::;e in which the one or the other must be di
reóar<1cd.

3 2

Of Unity in Religion.

[Essay iii.

designed to hold all diversities of religious belief. N ow, the
inference .which will natlu'ally bc drawn, on further rcflection,
from this is, that it is no matter ,vhether we hold truth or
falsehood; and next, that there is no truth at all in any
religion.
But this is not all. The same reasoning ,vould go to prove
that since there is no infallible and univer
any accessible guide
in morals, and men greatly differ in their judglnellts of ,,,hat is
morally right and wrong, hence we are to infer that God did
not design men to agree on this point neither, and that it
matters not whether we act on right or ,vrong principles; and,
in short, that there is no such thing as right and wrong; but
only ,vhat each man thinks. The two opposite en'ors (as .we
think them) from the sante source are, 'If God wills all men to
believe, and to act rightly, He must have given us an infallible
and accessible guide for belief and practice. (I.) But He does
so will; therefore, there is such a guide: and (2.) He has not
given us any such guide; therefore, lIe does not ,vill all men
to believe and act rightly.'
N ow, this is to confound the two senses of "TILL, as dis-
tinguished in the concluding paragraph of the 17th Article
of the Church of England. In a certain sense, the most absurd
errors, and the most heinous crimes, may be said to be accord-
ing to the Divine "Till; since God does not interpose his omni-
potence to prcvent them. But' in .. our doings,' says that
Article, 'that will of God is to be follo,ved which we haye
expressly declared in Iloly 'V rit.'

, It is certain, that heresies and scltisrns are, of all others, tile
greatest scandals.'
( Nothing doth so 'lJtuch keep 'lnen out 0.1 the Church, and dri're
'lnen out of the Church, as, breacl of unity.'

If proof of the truth of Bacon's remark were needed, it
might be found in the fact, that among the more immediate
causes of the stationary, or even receding, condition of the
Reforn1ation, for nearly three cepturies,-a condition so strangely
at variancc ,,'ith the anticipations excited in both friends and
foes hy its first rapid advallce,-the one which has been most
frequently remarked upon is the contentions among Pl'otestants,

Essay iii.J

Annotations.

,vho, soon aftcr the first outbreak of the revolt from Rome, began
to cxpcnd thc chief part of their energies in contcsts with each
otlter; and often showcd more zcal, and cyen ficrcer hostility,
against riyal - Protestants, than against the systcnls and the
principlcs which they agreed in condenu1Íllg. The adhcrents
of the Church of Ronle, on the contrary, are ready to .waive all
intcrnal difrercncc
, and unite actively, as against a common
enenlY, in opposing the Greek Church, and all denominations
of Protestants. Thcy are like a disciplined army ulldcr a single
supreme lcader; in which, whaterer jealousies and dissensions
may exist among thc individual officers and soldiers, everyone
is at his post whenever the trumpet gives the call to arms, and
the whole act as one man against the hostile arnlY. Pro-
testants, on the contrary, labour undcr the disadvantages which
are ,,-ell known in military history, of an allied army-a host
of confederates,-who are often found to forget the common
cause, and dcsert, or even oppose one another.
IIence, it is continually urged against the Reformed Churches,
'See what comes of allowing private judgment in religion.
Protestants, who profess to sacrifice everything to truth, do not,
after all, attain it, for if they did, they ,,-ould all (as has been
just obser,-ed) be agì'eed. The exercise of their private judg-
ment does but expose them to the ùisadvantages of divisions,
without, after all, securing to them an infallible certainty of
attaining truth; while those who suhmit to the decisions of one
supreme central authority, ha,-e at least the advantage of being
united against every common a(h-ersary.'
And this advantage certainly does exist, and ought not to he
denied, or kept out of sight. The principle is indeed sound,
of lnaking truth, as clnhraced on sincere conviction, the first
ohjcct, and unity a secondary one; and if l\Ian were a less im-
pcrfect Being than he is, all .who adhered to that principle
would, as has been said, be agreed and united; and truth and
rcctitude would haye their natural ad\-antages over their oppo-
sites. But as it is, what we gcnerally find, is truth mixed .with
human error, and genuine religion tainted ,,-ith an alloy of
human weakne
ses and prejudice
. And this it is that gives
a certain dcgree of advantage to any systelU-\\ hether in itself
true or false-\" hich makes union, and submission to a supreme
authority on earth, the fir::;t point.
D

Of Unity in Religion.

[Essay iii.

If you exhort men to seek truth, and to embrace what, on
deliberate examination, they are convinced is truth, they may
follo,v this ac1 vice, and yet-considering ,vhat 1\iall is-may be
expected to arrive at different conclusions. But if you exhort
them to agree, and .with that vie,v, to make a compromise,-
each conscnting (like the ROll1an Triun1virs of old, ,,
ho sacrificcd
to each other's enmity their respective friends) to proscribe some
of their own cOllvictions,-thcn, if they follow this advice, the
end sought ,viti he accomplished.
But surely the advantages, great as they are, of union, are
too dearly purchased at such a price; since, besides the possi-
bility that men may be united in what is erroneous and "Tong
in itself, there is this additional evil-and this should be
remembered above all,-that whatever absolute truth there may
be in "That is assented to on such a principle, it is not truth to
those "Tho assent to it not on conviction, but for union's sake.
Anù what is in itself right to be done, is "Tong to him who
does it ,vithout the approbation of his own judgn1ent, at the
bidding of others, and with a view to their Co-ol).eration. On
the other hand, the unity-whether among all Christians, or
any portion of them-,,
hich is the result of their all holding
the same truth,-this unity is not the less perfect from its being
incidental, and not the primary object aimed at, and to .which
all else was to be sacrificed. But those who have only inci-
dentally adhered to what is in itself perfectly right, may be
thelllseives wrong; even to a greater degree than those ,,-ho
may have fallen into error on some points, but ,,,ho are on the
,vhole sincere votaries of truth.
Another disadvantage that is to be weighed against the
a(h
antages of an unity based on inlplicit submission to a certain
supreme authority, is that the adherents of such a system are
del)rived of the character of witnesses.
'Yhen a man professes, and ,ve are unable to disprove the
sincerity of the profession, that he has been, on exan1Ínation,
convinced of the truth of a certain doctrine, he is a witness to
the force of the reasons ,yhich hayc convinced him. But the
adherents of an opposite system give, ill reality, no testinlony
at an, except to the fact that they have recei,-ed so and so from
their guide. If there ,,-ere hut a hundred per
ons in all the
,vorld who professed to have fully cOllvinced themselves, indc-

Essay iii.]

Annotations.

pendently of each othcr's authority, of the truth of a certain
conclusion, anù thcse were Inell of no more than ordinary
ability, their declaration would ha,Te incalculably more weight
than that of a hunùreù millions-, even though they were the
most sagacious and lcarned men that ever existed, maintaining
the opposite conclusion, but having previously resolveù to forego
all e\:ercise of thcir own judgn1ent, and to receive implicitly
what is dictated to them. For, thc testilllony (to use a simple
and obvious illustration) of cven a small number of eye-witnesses
of any transaction, even though possessing no extraordinary
powers of vision, would outweigh that of countless millions ,vho
should have resolved to close their eyes, and to recei,ye and
retail the report they heard from a single individual. The shops
supply us with abundance of bust
and prints of sonle great
man, all striking likenesses-of each other.
It is important that ,ve should he fully aware, not only of
the ad'Tantages which undoubtedly are obtained by this kind of
union, but ahso of its disadvantages; for neither belong exclu-
sively to any particular Church, or other COIlI111lUÚty, hut to
c,Tery kind of party, association, alliance, or by "Thatever other
name it Inay be called, in ,vhich there is an express or under-
stood obligation on the 11lembers to give up, or to suppress,
their own convictions, ancl subn1Ït to the decisions of the leader
or leaders under whom they are to act.
This principle of sacrificing truth to -unity, creeps in gra-
dually. The sacrifice first demanded, in such cases, is, in
general, not a great one. l\Ien are led on, step by step, from
silence as to some mistake, to conniyance at fallacies, and
thence to suppression, and then to lllisrepresentation, of truth;
and ultimately to the support of known falsehood.
It is scarcely neccssary to say that I do not advocate the
opposite extreme,-the too cornmon lu'actice of exaggerating
differences, or setting do,vn all who do not cOIDIJletely concur
in all our views as 'infidels,' as ' altogether heterodox,' &c. The
right nla"\:im is one that we may borrow from Shakespere:
, Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice.' But it
is worth remarking, that ,vhat may be callcel the two opposite
cxtremes, in this lllatter, are generally founù togetlte'r. :F'or it is
the tcndency of party-spirit to pardon anything in those who
heartily support the party, and /lOt/Lillg in those who do not.
D 2

3 6

Of Unity in Religion.

[Essay iii.

, J.lfen ought to lake heed of rending God's Church by tVJO kinds
of controversies.'

Controyersy, though always an evil in itself, is somctimes a ne-
cessary evil. To give up everything "worth contending about, in
order to prevcnt hurtful f'ontentions, is, for the sake of extirpating
noxious weeds, to condemn the field to perpetual sterility.
Yet, if the principle that it is an evil only to be incurred "when
necessary for the sake of some important good, ,vere acted
upon, the two classes of controversies mentioned by Bacon
.would certainly be excludcd. The first, controversy on subjects
too deep and mysterious, is indeed calculated to gender strife.
For, in a case where correct knowledge is impossible to any,
and where all are, in fact, in the ,vrong, there is but little
likelihood of agreement; like men ,,,ho should rashly venture
to explore a strange land in utter darkness, they "rill be
scattered into a thousand devious paths. The second class of
subjects that ,vould be excluded by this principle, are those
which relate to lllatters too minute and trifling. For it should
be renlelnhererl that not only does every question that can be
raised lead to differences of opinion, disputes, and parties, but
also that the violence of the dispute, and the zeal and bigoted
spirit of the party, are not at all proportioned to the inl..
portance of the matter at issue. The slllallest spark, if thro"rn
among very conlbustible substances, may raise a formidable
conflagration. 'Yitness the long and acrimonióus disputes
.which distracted the Church concerning t}le proper tilHe for the
observance of Easter, and concerning the use of lea\Tened or
unleayened bread at the Lord's Supper. "T e of the present
day, viewing these controversies from a distance, with the eye
of sober reason, and perceiving of how little consequence the
points of dispute are in thenlsehycs, provided they be so fixed as
to produce a decent uniforn1Ìty, at least anlong the melnbers of
each Church, can hardly bring oursel,-es to believe that the
most important doctrines of the Gospel ,vere never luade the
subject of more eager contentions than such trifles as these;
and that for these the peRce and unity of the Church "were
violated, and christian charity too often utterly destroyed.
But we should not forgct that human nature is still the same as

Es
a.y iii. ]

.AIlJlot at iOlls.

it e,-er was; a
l(l that though the coutroyersies of one age nlay
oftcn appear ridiculous in another, the disposition to contcnd
aùout trifics nlay remain unchanged.
1\" ot only, ho\\ cver, should we ayoid the risk of causing
needless strife by the discu:o:;sion of such quc
tions as are ill
tlwlrtselves trifling, but those also are to be regarded as, to us
iHsignificaut, ,vhich, howevcr curious, suhlitne, and interesting,
can lead to no practical result, and have no tendency to luake
us hetter Christians, but are merely Inatters of speeulati,'e
curiosity. Paul is frequent and earnest in his exhortations to
his converts to confine themselves to sueh studics as tend to
the cùification of the Church,-the increase of the fruits of the
Spirit,-the con,-ersion of infidels,-and the propagation of the
essential doctrines of the Gospel. And these doctrines are all
of a practical tendency. "\Yhile all the systems franled by
hUlnall superstition, enthusiasl11, and il11posture, whether Pagan,
Ronli
h, or
I aholnetan, abound, as nlight be expected, in mytho-
logical faLlcs and man'clIous legends, it is one of the nlost
renlarkable characteristics of the true rcligion, that it reveals
nothing that is not l)l'actically ÏIupol'tant for us to knO'w "\tith a
yicw to our salvation. Our religion, as IDight no less be
expected of one which comes not froln )Ian, but from God,
re,-eals to us, not the philo
ophy of the human n1Ìnd in itself,
nor yet the philosophy of the diyine Nature in itself, but (that
whieh is properly religion) the rclation and connection of the
two Beings ;-what God is to us,-what lIe has done, and will
do for us,-and what we are to he and to do, in regard to llim.
Bacon, doubtless, does not mean to preclude all thought or
lUClÜioll of any suhject connected with religion, whose practical
utility we are unable to point out. On the contrary, he else-
,,'here urges us to pursue truth, ,vithout alway:::; requiring to
pcrceive its practical application. But all conrro
.(!rsy, and
e,-crything that is likely, under existing circumstances, to lead
to controyersy, on such points, Inust be carefully avoided.
'Yhcn once a flame is lÜndled, ,ve cannot tell how far it may
extend. And
illcc, though ,,-e Inay be allowed, we canllot be
hound ill duty to di
cuss speculati,-e points of theology, the
blanlc of occa
iolling needless dissell
ion must lie with those
"ho so discu
s them as to incur a risk that hostile parties may
arisc out of thcir spcculatiol1s.

3 8

Of Unity in Religion.

[Essay iii.

'.7J,fen create oppositions 'which o're not, and put then'[ into new
ternlS so fixed, as wherreas the rneauing ollght to govern the
terl1
, the terln in effect goveructh the meaning.'
So important are words in influencing our thoughts, and 80
common is the error of overlooking their inlportance, that we
cannot give too much hcpd to this caution of Bacon as to our
use of ]anguage in religious di
cussion. The rules most im-
portant to be obselTed are, first, to he aware of the alltbiguÏly
of words, and .watchful against being misled by it; since the
saUte word not only may, but oftcn nlust, be used to express
dijferent meanings; and so common a source of dissension is
the n1Ïstake hence arising of the meaning of others, that the
"ord rnisllnderstl1flding is applied to disagreements in general:
secondly (since, on the other hand, the sanze meaning may be
expressed by different ,vords), to guard against attaching too
great iU11)ortance to the use of any particular term: and lastly,
to avoid, as much as possible, introducing or keeping up the use
of any peculiar set of ".ords and phrases, any' fixed terms,' as
Bacon calls thenl, as the badge of a party.
A neglect of this last rule, it is obvious, nlust greatly pro-
mote causcless divisions and all the eyils of party-spirit. Any
systenl appears the more distinct from all others, whcn provided
,,-ith a distinct, regular, technical pllrascology, like a corporate
ùody, ,,-ith its coat of arnlS and motto. By this means, oyer
and abo,-c all the real differences of opinion ,,-hich exist, a fresh
cause of opposition and separation is introduced among those
who .would perhaps be fouud, if their rcspcctive statements were
candidly explained, to have in their tencts no real ground of
disunioll. Nor will the consequenccs of such di'Tisiolls be by
any lueans so trifling as thcir causes; f()r when parties are once
firnlly established and arrayed against ('ach other, their opposi-
tion ,vill usually increase; and the differences between theIn,
which were originally little more than imaginary, may in time
become scrious and irnportant. E"\:.perience wOlùd seem to
teach us that the technical terms whieh were introduced pro-
fesscrlly for the purpose of putting do".n heresies as they arose,
did but serve rather to multiply hcrcsies. This, at least, is
certain, that as scientific thcories and technical phraseology
gained currency, party anilllosity raged thc more violcatly.

E
say iii. ]

All/lotations.

Thosp who, having D1agnificcl into serious evils by injudicious
opposition, hcresics ill thcluselvcs insignificant, appcalcd to the
nlagnitu<le of those evils to pro'"e that their opposition ,,-as
called for: like ullskilful physicians, who, whcn by violent
rcmcclics thcy have aggravatcd a trifling disease into a dangerous
one, urge the violence of the syn1ptoms which they themselves
havc produced in justification of their practice. Thcy cnlployed
that violcnce in the cause of 'what thcy believed to be divine
truth, which J csus IIimself and his Apostles exprcssly forbade
in the cause of what they knew to bc divine truth. ' The
servant of the Lord,' says Paul, 'must not stri,?c, hut be gentle
unto alllnen, in n1eekness instructing them that oppose them.
selves, if God, ppradventure, will give them repentance to the
acknowledging of the truth.'1

( TfP"e rnay not take up ]!a!tolnet's sword, or like unto it; that
is, to propagate 1.eligion by wars, or by sanguinary persecu-
tions to force con:JCtences.'

Although Bacon thus protests against the (forcing of men's
consciences,' yet I am not quite sure, 'whethcr he fully embraced
the principle that all secular coercion, sn1all or great, in what
regards religious faith, is contrary to the spirit of Christianity;
and that a man's religion, as long as he conducts hinlself as a
peaceahle and good citizen, does not fall 'lvitlân the province of
the civil 9Jzagistrate. Bacon speaks with just horror of 'san-
guinary persecutions.' N ow, any laws that can be properly
callcd 'sanguinary'-any undue seyerity-should ùe deprecated
in all matters whatever; as if, for example, the penalty of death
sholùd be denounccd for stealing a pin. But if rcligious truth
docs properly fan within the province of the civilmagistrate,-
if it be the office of governn1ent to provide for the good of the
subjects, universally, including that of their souls, the ruler

can haye no more right to tolerate hercsy, than theft or n1urder.
fJ.'hcy Inay plcad that the propagation of false doctrine-that is,
what is contrary to what they hold to he true,-is the worst
l,-ind of robbery, and is a murder of the soul. On that supposi-
tion, therefore, the degree of sevcrity of the penalty dcnounced

1 2 Tim. xi. 2.
.

4 0

OJ l.lllity in Religion.

[E
say iii.

against religious offences, whether it shall be death, or exile, or
fine, or imprisonnlent, or any other, becollles a mere political
question, just as in the case of the penalties for other crilnes.
Eut if, on the contrary, we are to understand and comply
,vith, in the silnple and ob\Tious sense, our Lord's injunction to
'render to Cæsar the things that are Cresar's, and to God the
things that are God's;' and his declaration that his ' kingdonl
is not of this world;' and if we are to belicve his _\..postle

sincere in renouncing, on behalf of themselve
and their fol-
lowers, all design of })fopagating their faith by scclùar force, or
of monopolizing for Christians as such, or for any particular
denomination of Christians, secular po,,-er and political rights,
then, all penalties and privations, great or small, inflicted on
purcly religious grounds, must be equally of tl1e character of
persecution (though all are not equally severe persecution), and
all alike unchristian. Persecution, in short, is not wrong because
it is cruel, but it is cruel because it is ,vrong.

ESS..1. Y I'T. OF RE'"'"EXGE.

R E,rE
GE is a kind of ,,-ild justice, ,,-hich the more )Ian's
nature runs to, the more ought law to ,,-eed it out: for as
for the first wrong, it does but ofÌend the law; but the revenge
of that wrong putteth the law out of office. Certainly, in taking
rcvenge a man is but even with his enemy, but in passing it
oycr he i
superior; for it is a prince's part to pardon: and
SolonIon, I an1 sure, saith., 'It is the glory of a man to pass by
an offence.'1 That .which is past is gone and irrecoyerable, and
,yise men haye cnough to do with things present and to COlne;
therefore thcy do but trifle with t11en1selyes, that labour in past
lnattcrs. Therc is no luan doth a wror
g for the wrong's sake,
but thereby to purchase himself profit, or pleasure, or honour,
or the like; therefore why should I be angry with a man for
lo,-ing himself better than me? And if an y man should do
wTong, mercly out of ill-nature, w"hy, yet it is but like the thorn
or brier, which prick and scratch, because they can do no other.
'l"he most tolerable sort of revenge is for those "Tongs which
there is no law to remedy: but then., let a man take heed the
revenge be such as there is no law to punish; else a luau's
encnlY is still beforehand, and it is two for one.
Some, when they take revenge, are desirous the party should
know whence it cometh: this is the nlore generous; for the
delight seemeth to he not so nluch in doing the hurt, as ill
nlaking the party repent: but base and crafty cowards are like
the arrow that flieth in the dark.
Cosmus, Duke of Florence, had a desperate saying against
perfidious or neglccting 2 friends, as if those wrongs were un-
IJardonablc. ' You shall read,' saith he, 'that ,,-e are COD1-
manded to forgiye our enemies, but you neyer read that ,,-e
are cOlnmanùed to forgive our fricl1ds.' But yet the spirit of
Joh 3 was in a better tune: 'Shail wc,' saith he, 'take good at
God's hands, and not bc content to take e,-il also?' and so of
friends in a proportion. This is certain, that a man that studieth
revenge kceps his own ,vounds green, which other" i
e would

1 Proverbs xix. I I.

2 Xeglecting.

egl.!cifl!l; negligent.

3 Job ii. 10.

4 2

OJ Revenge.

[Essay iv.

heal and do ,yell. Public reycnges are for the most part fortu-
nate; as that for the death of Cæsar; for the death of Pertinax;
for the death of I-Ienry III. of France; and many more. But
in priyate revenges it is not so; nay, rather vindicti'Te persons
live the life of .witches, ,vho, as they are mischievous, so end
they unfortunate.

AXTITHETA ON REVEXGE.

PRO.
'Vindicta privata, justitia agrestis.
, Private reren,ge is 'Lvild J'uslice.'

'Qui vim rependit, legem tantum
violat, non hominem.
, He
C11O returns 'L'.iolencefor 'L'iolence,
offends against the law only - not
against tile indit'idual.'

'Utilis metus ultionis privatæ j nam
leges nimiulll sæpe dormiunt.
'Private vengeance inspires a salu-
tary fear, as tile lau's too often slum-
ber.'l

CONTRA.
'Qui injuriam fecit, principium malo
dedit; qui reùdidit, modum abstulit.
'He
cho has committed an injury
has made a beginning of e'L'Íl; he
cho
returns it, has taken meay all limit
from it.'

'Yilldicta, quo magis llaturalis, eo
magis coërcenda.
, The more natural re'L'enge is to man,
Ule more it should be repressed.'

, Qui facile injuriam reddit, is fortasse
tempore, non yoluntate posterior erat.
'He u.'ho is ready in returning an
injury, lws,perhaps, been anticipated by
Ids enemy only in, time.'

AKXOTATIOl\S.

, S01ne, 'ivlten t/iey lake revenge, are desirous the party should
know 'iv/tence it cometh.'

It is certainly, as Bacon l'crnarks, 'n10re generous'-or less
ungenerous-to tlesire that the party receiying the punishment
should 'know whence it cometh.' Aristotle distinguishes opyr,
-(' Resentment' or 'Anger ') from l\1t<roç,-' IIatred,' (and
whcn active, '
Ialice ')-ùy this. The one ,vho hates, he says,
,yishes the object of his 11atrcd to suffer, or to be destroyed, no
matter by ,,'hom; ,vhile Resentment crayes that he should know
f1"OJì
"horn, and for what, he suffers. And he instances Ulysses
in the Odyssey, who was not satisfied ,vith the yengeance he had

1 See, in Guy ..J.1Iallnerlng, Pleydcll's remark, that if )"ou haye not a regular
chiuUlC)" for tLè 81lloke, it will find its wa)" through the whole house.

Es
ay i,'.]

Annotations.

taken, under a fcigncd name, on the Cyclops, till he had told
him who he rcally was.
So Shakespere n1akes l\Iacduff, in his cagcr desire of vcn-
geance on
Iacbeth, say,
I If thou be slain, and 'Leith 120 s'Word of mine,
1\Iy wife's anù children's ghosts will haunt me still.'

'lit taking revenge, a ?nan is but even 1.vith his enemy; but in
passing it over, he is sllperiorì",' &c.
Bacon, in speaking of the duty, and of the difficulty, of for-
giyillg injuries, might have rcmarked that some of the things
hardcst to forgive are not what anyone would considcr injuries
-i.e., wrongs, at all.
1\iany would reprobate the use, in such a case, of the word
forgive. And the word ought not to be insisted on; though
that 1110st intelligent ,,
oman, l\fiss Elizabeth Smith, says (in hpr
commonplace-book, from which posthumous ex.tI'acts wcre pub-
lished) that' a 'W07na'll has need of extraordinary gcntleness and
modcsty to be forgiven for possessing superior ability and learn-
ing.' She would probably have found this true eycn now, to a
certain degree; though less than in hcr time.
But not to insist on a .word, SHY, instead of 'forgiye,' that it
is hard to 'judge fairly of' and to 'feel kindly towards,'
(J.) One who adheres to the views \vhich
vere yours, and ,rhich
you haye changed. This was, doubtless, one of the Apostle Paul's
trials. But in his case, the miracle he had experienced, and the
powers conferred on himself, could leave no doubt on his mind.
But the trial is much hardcr when you hear argumcnts used
against you which you had yourself forn1erly employed, and which
you cannot no,y refute; and when you rest on reasons which you
had formerly sho,,-n to be futilc, and which do not quite satisfy

TOU now; aud WhCll you kno\v that you are suspected, and half-
su
pect yoursc1f, of bcing in SOllle way biasscd. Then it is that
you especially need some one to keep you in countenance; and
are tempted to be angry" ith those ,,'ho will not, howc,.er thcy
may abstain from reproaching you with apostasy.
Of course thcre is a trial on the opposite side also; but it is
far less se,'cre. For, a change Ï1nplies error, first or last; and
this is galling to one's self-esteem. The one who had adhered
to his srstcD1, sect, or opinion, 111ay hug hinlself on his (
o-callcd)

Of Rcrenge.

[E6say iv.

, consistency j' and lllay congratulate hinlself-inwardly, if not
o}Jellly,-on the thought that at least he Jnay be quite right all
through j ,,-hereas the other 'JTlust have been wrong somewhere.
'I stand,' he Ina)" say to himself, , where he 'was; I think as he
thought, and do ,vhat he did; he cannot at any rate tax me ,vith
fickleness; nor can he blame anJthing in me ,,,hich he ",-as not
hinlself guilty of.' All this is as soothing to the one party, as
the thought of it is irritating to the other.
(2.) One ,vho has proyed right in the advice and w'arllillg he
gave you, and ,vhich you rejected.
'I bear you no ill will, Lizzy' (says
Ir. Bennet, in l\Ii
s
Austen's Pride and Prejudice), 'for being justified in the warn-
ing
TOU gaye me. Considering ho,v things have turned out, I
think this sho-ws some magnanimity.'
(3.) One ,,-ho has carried off some prize froln you; whether
the ,,-onlan you ,vere in loye with, or some honour, or situation,
-especially if he has attained 'with little exertion ,,?hat you
had been striving hard for, without success.
This is noticed by Aristotle (Rlletoric, Book ii.) as one great
ground of envy (1/
Oll(.JÇ).
(4.) One who has succeeded in some undertaking whose
failurp you had predicted: such as the railroad over Chat )Ioss,
,,-hich most of the engillef'rs pronounced Ï1npossible; or tho
Duke of Bridgewatcl"s aqueduct, ,,-hich ,yas derided as a castle
in the air.
Again, with some minds of a baser nature, there is a diffi-
culty, pro,?erbially, in forgiving those ,,-honl one is conscious of
haying injured: and, again, those (especially if equals or in-
fcriors) who have done very great and inlportant seryices, beyond
,,-hat can eyer receiye an adequate return. Rochefoucault even
says that ' to
nost nlen it is less dapgerous to do hurt than to
do them too much good.' But then it was his system to look
on the dark side ouly of mankind.
Tacitus, also, ,,,ho is not ycry unlike him in this respect,
says that 'benefits are acceptable as far as it appears they may
be repaid; but that when they far exceed this, hatred takes the
place of gratitude.' It is only, however, as has been said, the
basest natures to ,,-horn any of these last mentioned trials can
occur, as trials.
In all these and SOlne other such cases, there is cyidel1tly no

Essay iv.]

Annotatioìls.

injury; and son1e will, as has been just saiù, protest against the
use of thc "ord ' forgivc,' "'hen thcre i
no 'wrollg to bc forgivcn.
rrhCll avoid the word, if you will; only do not go on to ima-
gine that you have no necd to keep down, with a st/.ong effort,
just the saIne kind of feelings that you 'would have had if there
had bcen an injury. If you take for grantcd that no care is
necdcd to l'eprc
s such feelings, illaslnuch as they would be so
manifestly unreasonablc, the probable result will he, that you
,,-ill Ilot repress but indulge them. You will not, indeed,
ockllowledge to yourself the ['eal ground (as you do in the case
of au actual injury) of your resentful fcelings; but you ,,-ill
deceive yourself by finding out some other ground, real or ima-
ginary. (It is not that the man adheres to his original views,
but that he is an uncharitable bigot:' 'It is not that I grudge
hiln hi
success, but that he is too n1uch puffed up with it:'
, It is not that I lnysclf was seekiug the situation, but that he
is unfit for it;' &c.
lIe who cuIti,-ates, in the right way, the habit of forgiving
injuries, will acquire it. But if you content yourself with this,
and do not cultiyate a habit of candour in such cascs as those
aboye alluded to, you wiU be deficient in that; for it does not
grow wild in the soil of the human heart. And the unreasonable-
ness and injustice of thc feelings which 'will grow wild thcre,
is a reason not why you should neglect to extirpate them, but
'why you should be the 1l10re ashan1ed of not doing so.
It is "
orth mentioning, that your judgment of anyone's
character "who has done anything "Wrong, ought to be exactly
the sanIe, w"hethel' the wrong was done to yon or to anyone
else. A man "who has cheated or slandered you is neither ll10re I
nor les
a cheat and a slanderer than if it had been some other
person, a stranger to you. Thi
is evident; yet there is great
need to ren1Íud people of it; for, as the yery lo".est minds of
all regard with far the most disapprobation any "Tong fron1
which they themselycs suffer, so, those a fe"r steps, and only a
fpw, above them, in their dread. of such manifest injustice, think
they cannot helle! the twig too far the contrary way, and are
for regarding (ill theory, at least, if not in practice) wrongs to
oneself as no wrongs at all. Such a person will reckon it a
point of heroic generosity to let loose on society a rogue WIlD
has cheated lÛul, and to leave uncensured and ullexposCll a liar

4 6

Of Revenge.

[Essay i L

by ,vhom he has been belied, and the like. And if you refuse
fa,.our and countenance to those uIHvorthy of it, "Those n1is-
conduct has at all affected you, he ,viII at once attribute this
to personal vindictive feelings; as if there could be no such
thing as esteem and disesteem. One n1ay eyen see tales, COlli-
l)osed by IJersons not ,vanting in intelligence, and admircd by
many of what are called the educated classes, in 'which the
virtue held up for admiration and imitation consists in selecting
as a bosonl friend, and a guide, and a model of excellence, one
,vho had been guilty of manifest and gross injustice, because
the party had suffered personally fronl that injustice.
It is thus that' fools mistake revcrse of wrong for right.'
The charity of some persons consists in proceeding on the sup-
position that to believe in the existence of an il1j ury is to
cherish ill1placable resentment; and that it is impossible to
forgive, except 'when there is nothing to be forgiyen. It is
obvious that these notions render nugatory the Gospel-precepts.
Why should ,ve be called upon to render good for evil, if we
are bound ahvays to explain away that evil, and call it good?
"mere there is manifestly just ground for complaint, 'we should
accustom ourselyes to say, 'That man owes me a hundred
pence l' thus at once estimating the debt at its just amount,
and recalling to our n1ind the parable of him who rigorously
enforced his own claims, ,vhen he had been forgiven ten
thousand talents.
There is a whole class of ,vhat may be called secondarry
vulgar errors,-errors produced by a kind of re-action from
those of people ".ho are the very lowest of all, in point of
intellect, or of moral sentinlent,-errors which those fall into
,vho are a fc,v, and but a very few', steps higher.

ESS.L\.Y V. OF ADVERSITY.

I T "as a high speech of Seneca (after the Inanner of the
Stoics), that the 'good things which belong to prosperity
arc to bc wishcd, but the good things that belong to adversity
are to be adtnirecl'-' Bona rerum secundaruln optabilia, adver-
barum nlÍrahilia. ll Certainly, if miracles be the cOffiluand over
nature, they appear most in ad,rersity. It is yet a higher
speech of his than the other (much too high for a heathen),
'It is true greatness to haye in one the frailty of a man, and
the security of a God' -' Vere magnuill habere fragilitatem
hominis, securitatem Dei.' 2 This ,vould have done better in
poesy,3 where trallscendencies 4 are more alIa-wed; and the poets,
indccd, haye been busy with it-for it is in effect the thing
which is figured in that strange fiction of the ancient poets,
which seemeth not to be without mystery;5 nay, and to have
some approach to the state of a Christian, 'that Hercules, when
he went to unbind Prollletheus (by whom human nature is re-
presented), :sailed the length of the great ocean in an earthen
pot or pitcher, lively describing christialll'esolution, that saileth
in the frail bark of the fle8h through the waves of the ,yorld. 6
But to speak in a mean,7 the virtue of prosperity is temper-
ance, the virtue of adversity is fortitude, which in morals is the
more hcroical virtue. Prosperity is the blessing of the Old
Testament, adversity ib the blessing of the Xew, which carrieth
the greater benediction, and the clearer revelation of God's

1 Sen. Ad Luci!. 66.
3 Poesy. PoelJ"!I-

2 SCIl. .Ad Lltcil. 53,

, :\f usick and Poesy
To quicken you.' -Shakespere.
4 Transcendencies. Flights; soarings.
5 :\Iystery. A secret meaning; an emblem.
, Important truths still let your fables hoM,
Anù moral mysteries with art ellfold.'-G,.am:ill-e.
6
\pollod. Deor. Orig. I I.
7 Mean. Medium.

, Temperance, with golden square,
Bct\\ixt thcm both call1llcasure out a mean.'-Shakes1?el.e.

4 8

Of Adversity.

[Essay' .

favour. Yet even in the Old Testament, if you listen to
David's harp, you shall hear as many hearse -like airs as carols;
and the pencil of the Holy Ghost hath laboured more in de-
scribing the afflictions of Job than the felicities 1 of Solomon.
Prosperity is not "without many fears and distastes; and a(h-er-
sity is not ,,-ithout comforts and hopes. 'Ye see in needle-
works and embroideries, it is more pleasing to have a lively
,,'ork upon a sad 2 and solemn ground, than to have a dark and
melancholy w"ork upon a lightsome ground: judge, therefore,
of the pleasure of the heart by the pleasure of the eye. Cer-
tainly virtue is like precious odours, most fragrant where they
are incensed/ or crushed; for prosperity doth best discover yice,
but adversity doth best discoyer yirtue.

ANNOTATIONS.

Some kinds of ad,
ersity are chiefly of the character of TRIALS,
anJ others of DISCIPLIXE. But Bacon does not advert to this
difference, nor say anything at all about the distinction between
discipl
ne and trial; "hich are quite different in themselves, but
often confounded together.
By 'discipline' is to be understood, anything-" hether of
the character of adversity or not-that has a direct tendency
to produce i1JlprOVenzent, or to create some qualification that
did not exist before; and by trial, anything that tends to ascer-
tain ,,-hat ilnprovenlent Ilas been made} or what qualities exist.
Both effects may be produced at once; but 'what ,ve speak of
is, the proper character of trial, as such, and of discipline, as
such.
A college tutor, for instance, seeks to make his pupils good
scholars; an examiner, to ascertain how far each candidate is
such. It Inay so happen that the tutor may be enabled to

1 Felicities (rarely useù in the plural).
(TheJelicities of her wonderful reign.'-Atterbllry.
2 Sad. Dark-cúlullred.

I met him accidentall
- in London, in sad-coloured clothes, far from being
costly.'-1rallon's Lires.
3 Ìucenscù. Set on fire; burned,

ay v.J

AlllZotatiolls.

forn1 a judglllCnt of the proficiency of thc pupils; and that a
candiùate may Icarn something frolll thc cxalniner. But what
is essential in each case, is inciùental in the other. For no one
would say that a course of lectures ,vas a failure, if the pupils
wcre well instructed, though the tcacher Inight not have ascer-
taincd their proficiency; or that an exanÜnation had not an-
swered its purpose, if the qualifications of the candidates were
proved, though thcy might have learnt nothing from it.
A corresponding distinction holds good in a great many
other things: for instance, what is callcd "jJl.oving a gun,"
that is, loading it up to the muzzle and firing it-docs not at
all tend to increase its strength, but only proves that it is
strong. Proper han1n1ering and tempering of the metal, 011 the
odler hand, tends to nlake it strong.
These two things are, as has been just said, very likely to l)e
confounded together: (I) because very often they are actually
comhifled; a
e.g., ,veIl conducted exercise of the body, both
displays, and prolIlotes, strength and agility. The san1e holds
good in the case of nlusic, and various other pursuits, and in
none more than in virtuous practice.
(2) Because from discipline and from trial, and anything
analogous to these, we may often draw the same inference,
though by different reasonings: e.g., if you know tllat a gun-
barrel has gone through such and such processes, under a skil-
ful metallurgist, you conclude à priori that it will be a strong
one; aud again you draw the same inference from knowing that
it has been 'proved.' This latter is an argument from a sign,
the other from cause to effect. 1 So also, if you know that
a man has been under a good tutor, this enables you to form an
à priori conjecture, that he is a scholar; and by a different kind
of argument, you infer the same from his having IJasseù an ex-
an1Ïnation.
Grcat evils may arise fl'oln Inistaking the one of these things
for the other. For instance, children's lives have been sacrificed by
the attempt to /flake them hardy by exposing then1 to cold, and
,vet, and hardship. Th03e that have been so e-xposed aloe (as
n1any of theln as survive) hardy; because their having gone
through it jJroves that they were of a strong constitution, though

1 Rltet01'ic, Part I. Chap. I I.
E

Of Advel.sity.

[Essay v.

it did not 'Jnake them so. The (proying' of a gun is the cause,
not of its veing strong, but of our kno1.ving it to be strong.
And it is wonderful how prevalent in all subjects is the tendency
to confound these two things together: e.g., Balak says to
Balaam, (I .wot that he ,vhom thou blessest is blessed, and
he whom thou cursest is cursed.' And this must have been
true, if Balaam ,vas a true prophet; but the mistake ,vas, to
suppose that his curse or blessing brought on these results,
when, in truth, it brought only the knowledge of the divine
designs and sentences.
Different kinds of adversity (and also of prosperity, for both
are equ3.lly trials, though it is only adversity that is usually
called such) differ in this respect from each other, some being
more of the character of discipline, and others of trial.
Genera]1y speaking, a sJJlall degree of persecution and op-
pression is more of a discipline for humanity than very great
and long-continued. It is everywhere observed that a liberated
slave is apt to make a Inerciless master, and that boys "rho
have been cruelly fagged at school are cruel faggers. Sterne
introduces a tender-hearted negro girl, of whom it is remarked
that (she had suffered oppression, and had learnt lnercy,' as if
this ,vas a natural consequence. It ,vould have been more
true to have said) 'Although she had suffered much oppres-
sion,' &c.
l\Iost of the early Reformers ,,-ere intolerant. And a people
who have been so long and so severely persecuted as the
'T audois, and yet retain, as they do, a D1ild and tolerant cha-
racter, give strong evidence of the domination of a real
christian principle.
The celebrated (Pi]griln Fathers,' ,,,,ho fled from the tyranny
of Laud and his abettors to America, and are described as
having (sought only freedom to 'worship God,' had no notion
of allo-willg the same freedolll to others, but enacted and
enforced the most severe penalties against all who differed frolll
then), and compelled the ever-venerated Roger 'Yilliams, the
great champion of toleration, to fly from thenl to Rhode Island,
,,-here he founded a colony on his own truly christian system.
One of the principal founders of the New England colony
renlo11strated with these persecutors, saying (in a letter given in

Essay v.]

Annotations.

a late numbcr of the Edinburgh Ret'iew)l 'Reverend and dear
sirs, whOln I unfeignedly love and respect, it doth not a little
gricve my spirit to hear what sad things are reported daily of
your tyranny and persecution in X ew England, as that you
fine, whip, and imprison men for their consciences. First, you
cOIupcl such to come into your a:s
emblies as you know "will not
join you in your worship; and when they show their dislike
thereof, or witness against it, then you stir up your magistrates
to punish them, for such, as you conceivc, their public affronts.
Trlùy, friends, this your practice of compelling any, in Inatters
of worship, to do that "hereof thpy are not fully persuaded, is
to make them sin; for so the .Apostle (Romans xiv. 23) tells
us; and many are made hypocrites thereby, conforn1Ïng in their
outward acts for fear of punishment. "r e pray for you, and wish
you prosperity every way; hoping the Lord would ha,.e given
you so nluch light and loye there, that you might haye been
eyes to God's people here, and not to practise those courses in
a wilderness 'which you "went so far to prevent.' They replied,
'Better be hypocrites than profane persons. Hypocrites give
God part of his due-the outwarù nlan; but the profane person
giyeth God neither outward nor inward man. You know not
if you think we caIne into this wilderness to practise those
courses 'which "we flpd from in England. "r e believe there is
a vast difference between men's inventions and God's institu-
tions: "e fled frOll1 luell's iuyentions, to which "we else should
ha, e been compelled; "we compel none to men's inyentions.'
About the same time 'Yilliams sent a ,varm renlonstrance to
l1Ís old friend and governor, Endicott, against these violent
proceedings. The
Iassachusetts theocracy could not complain
that none showed thenl their error: they did not persevere in
the systelll of persecution without haying its wrongfulnes:::;
fully pointed out.
, IIad Bunyan,' says the Reviewer/ 'opened his conventicle
in Boston, he ,,-ould ha,.e been bm1Ïshed, if not whipped; had
Lord Baltilllore appeared there, he would have been liable to
perpetual Ï1npl'iSOnmellt. If Penn had escaped with either of
his ears, the lllore pertinacious Fox" ould, doubtless, have ended

1 Oct. 18.35, p. 5 6 4.

2 Page 5 [0.

E 2

-5 2

Of Adversity.

[Essay v.

by mounting the gallows with l\Iarmaduke Stephenson or
'Yilliam Leddra. Yet the authors of these extren1Íties would
have had no adn}issible pretext. They ,vere not instigated by
the dread of similar persecution or by the impulse to retaliate.
There ,vas no l1ierarchy to invite them to the plains of
Annageddon; there was no Agag to he,v in pieces, or kings
and nobles to bind with links of iron. They persecuted spon-
taneously, deliberately, and securely. Or rather, it might be
said, they ,vere cruel under difficulties. rfhey trod the grapes
of their wine-press in a city of refuge, and converted their Zoar
into a house of Egyptian bondage; and, in this respect, we
conceive they are without a parallel in history.'
On the other hand, a short or occasional oppression is a good
discipline for teaching anyone not very ill disposed to feel for
others.
1\11'.
facaulay beautifully illustrates this from the tale of the
Fisherman and the Genie, in the Arabian Nights. 'The genie
had at first vowed that he would confer wonderflù gifts on
anyone who should release him from the casket in which he
was ÍInprisoned; and during a second period he had vo,ved a
still more splendid reward. But bcing still disappointed, he
.next voweù to grant no other favour to his liberator than to
choose ,vhat death he should sufter. Even thus, a people ,vho
have been enslaved and oppressed for some years are most
grateful to their liberators; but those who are set free after
YCfY long slavery are not unlikely to tear their liberators to
pieces.'
Sickness is a kind of adversity 'which is both a trial and a
discipline; but much more of a discipline ,,,hen short, and of a
trial when very long. The kindness of friends during sickness
is calculated, w.hcn it is newly called forth, to touch the heart,
and call forth gratitude; but the confirmed invalid is in danger
of bccoming absorbed in self, and of taking all kinùs of care
and of sacrificc as a matter of course.
Danger of death is another kind of adversity which has both
characters; but it is much more of a ,vholesome discipline
,vhen the danger is from a storm, or from any other external
cause than from sickness. The well-known proverb, ''The Devil
,yas sick, &c.,' shows ho,v gencrally it has been observed that
people, ,,,hen they, recover forget the resolutions formed during

E
say Y.]

Annotations.

sickness. One reason of the differcnce-and perhaps the chief
-is, that it is so 111uch easier to recall exactly thc sensations
felt when in perfect health and yet in imnlincnt danger, and to
act oyer again, as it were, in imagination the wholc scenc, than to
rccall fully, when in heahh, the state of mind during some sick-
ncss, 'which itself so much affects thc mind along with the body.
But it is quite possible either to inlprove or to fail to improve
either kind of affliction.
And uniycrsally it is to be observed that, though in other
matters thcre Inay be trials which are nothing but trials, and
have no tendency to improve the subject tried, but merely to
test it (as in the case of the proving of a gun alludcd to above),
this can never be the case in what relates to ?Jloral conduct.
Every kind of trial, if well endured, tends to fortify the good
principle. There are, indeed, Inany things which are more
likely to hurt than to ÏInprove the moral character; and to
such trials 1.ve should be unjustifiable in exposing ourselves or
others unnecessarily. But these, if anyone does go through
them well, do not 'I1zerely prove the moral principle to be good,
but ".ill have had the effect of still further fortifying it.
And the COllYel'Se, unhappily, holds good also. Eyery kind
of inlproving process-religious study, good example, or what-
eyer else,-if it does not leave you the better, will leave you the
worse. Let no one flatter himself that anything external will
?nake hin1 wise or virtuous, ..without his taking pains to learn
wisdom or virtue from it. And if anyone says of any afflic-
tion, , No doubt it is all sent for my good,' he should be
reminded to ask himself whether he is seeking to get any good
out of it. '. Sweet,' says the poct, , are the uses of adversity;'
but this is for those only who take care to make a good use
of it.

Iost carefully should we avoid the crror of .which some
parents, not (otherwise) dcficient in good sense, commit, of
ÏIUpO
illg gratuitous restrictions and privations, and purposely
inflicting needless disappointments, for the purpose of inuring
childrcn to the pains and troubles they will nleet with in
after-life. Yes, be assured thcy willluect with quite enough, in
eycry portioll of life, including childhood, without your strewing
their path with thorns of your own providing. And often

Of Adversity.

[Essay v.

enough will you have to limit their amusements for the sake of
needful study, to restrain their appetites for the sake of health,
to chastise. them for faults, anù in various ways to inflict pain
or privations for the sake of avoiding some greater evils. Let
this always be eXplained to then1 "Thenever it is possible to do
so; and endeavour in all cases to make them look on the parent
as never the voluntaTY giver of anything but good. To any
hardships ,vhich they are convinced you inflict reluctantly, and
to tho:se which occur t11l'ough the dispensations of the All- 'Vise,
'they ,vill more easily be trained to submit with a good grace,
than to any gratuitous sufferings de,
ised for them by fallible
men. To raise hopes on purpose to produce disappointment, to
gi ve provocation merely to exercise the temper, and, in short,
to inflict pain of any kind merely as a training for patience and
fortitude-this is a kind of discil1line ,vhich Man should not
presume to attelnpt. If such trials prove a discipline not so
nluch of cheerful fortitude as of resentful aversion and suspicious
distrust of the parent as a capricious tyrant, you will have only
yourself to thank for this result.

, Since the end of suffpring, as a moral discipline,' says an
e
cenel1t writer in the Edinburgh Review (January, 1847), on
the Life of Pascal, 'is only to enable U:5 at last to bear unclouded
happiness, ,,-hat guarantee can ,ve now have of its beneficial
effect on us, except by partial experiments of our capacity of
recollecting and practising the lcssons of adyersity in intervals
of prosperity? I t is true that there is no nlore l)erilous ordeal
through which l\Ian can pass-no greater curse which can be
imposed on hin1, as he is at present constituted-than that of
being condemned to ,,'alk his life long in the sunlight of unshaded
prosperity. Ilis eyes ache with that too un tempered brilliance
- he is apt to be sn1Ìtten with a mOl'al coap de soleil. But it
as little follows that no sunshine is good for us. lIe ,vho made
us, and who tutors us, alone kno,vs what is t11e exact meaSlu'e
of light and shade, sun and cloud, 8torm and calm, frost and heat,
which will best tend to mature those flowcrs which arc the
object of this celestial husbandry; and which, when transplanted
into the paradi
e of God, arc to bloom there for eyer in
amaranthine loveliness. K or can it bc ,,-ithout IH'e8ull1ption
that" e essay to interfere with these processes; our highcst

Essay v.J

AnJlotations.

,risdom is to fall in with them. And certain it is that eyery
Inan will find by expcrience that he has enough to do, to bear
,vith paticnce and fortitude the real afIiictions with ,vhich God
Inay vi
it hinI, without vcnturing to fill up the intcrvals in
,,-hich lIe has left hill1 case, and even invites hinl to gladncss,
by a sclf-imposed and artificial sorro,v. Kay, if his mind be
wcll con
tituted, he will fccl that the learning ho,v to apply, in
hours of bappinc:ss, the lessons which he has lcarned in the
school of sorrow, is not one of the least difficult lessons which
sorro,v has to teach him; not to mention that the grateful
rcception of God's gifts is as true a part of duty-and even a
1110re neglectcd part of it-thau a patient submission to his
chasti
cnlents.
, It is at our peril, then, that we seek to intcrfere ".ith the
discipline ,vhich is provided for us. lIe who acts as if God had
mistaken the proportions in which prosperity and adversity should
be allotted to us-and seeks by hair shirts, prolonged alJ:stinence,
and sclf-imposcd penance, to rcnder more perfect the discipline
of suflering,-only enfeebles instead of invigorating his piety;
and resembles one of those hypochondriacal patients-the plague
and torn1cnt of physicians-who having sought adrice-, and
being supposed to follo,v it, are found not only taking their
physician's "ell-j udged prescriptions, but sccretly do:sing' them-
sehyes in the intervals with some quackish nostrum. rrhus it
,,-as even with a Pascal-and we cannot see that the experiment
Wa:-5 attended in his case ,vith any better effects.'

, Prosperity is tile blessing of the Old Testalnent; Adversity is
the blessing of the :\Te'W.'

The distinguishing characteristic of the Old Covenant, of the

Io:saic Law, was that it was enforced by a systenl of temporal
reu;ards and judgments, administered according to an extra-
ordinary [miraculous] pro' idcllce. The I sraelitcs "ere prolnised,
as the rcward of ohcdience, long lifc, and hcalth, and plentiful
hal've:sts, and yictory oyer thcir cncmies. .And the punishments
threatcncd for disobcdience wcre pcstilence, famine, defeat, and
all kinds of temporal calamity. These" ere the rcwards and
punishmcnts that forulcd thc sanctiun of the
Iosaic Law. But
thc N c" Co\-cnant, the Go
pel, held out as its sanction rewards

Of Adversity.

[Essay v.

and punishments in the next ,,'orId, and dIose only. The
former kingdom of God was a kingdom of this ,,",orIel. The
Lord Jesus, on the contrary, declared that the ne'v king'dom of
God, His kingdom, C ,,'as not of this "rorld.' And so far from
promising worldly prosperity to his followers as a reward of
their obedience to Ilim, lIe prepared them for suffering and
death in his cause, even such as He endured Himself; and pro-
nounced theln 'b]essed whcn men should hate and pcrsecute'
them in his cause, saying 'great is Jour reward in Heayen.'
The Disciples ,,-ere indeed taught, and through them all
Christians in eyery age are taught, that the painful trials sent
to them 'were among the' things that work together for good
(that is, spiritual and eternal good) to them that love God;' and
that they ought not to think it ' strange concerning the fiery trial
,yhich was to try then), as though some strange thing happened
unto them,' but to look to the example of the Lord Jesus} and
, rejoice in Hinl always.'
U ndcl' the christian dispensation, therefore, chastisement is for
a very different purpose from retribution; the allotment of good
and evil, according to the character of each n1an (which is pro-
perly retribution), is reserved for the next ,,,orld. 'l
he Apostle
Paul points out as one of the cllaracteristics of the Gospel, that
in it God has ' eon1manded all men everywhere to relJcnt, inas-
much as He has APPOINTED A DAY in which He will judge
the 'world in righteousness.'
The 110yelty and peculiarity of this announcement consisted,
not in declaring the Deity to be the judge of the world (for
this the Jews knew, and n10st of the Pagans believed), but in
declaring that lIe had appointed a day for that j'lldgrnent, before
Christ's tribunal in thc next world. They ,vere thenceforth to
look for a retribution, not, as before ,vit1l the Jews, regular, and
,,,ith other nations occasionally, but prepared for all men ac-
cording to the character of each; not, as before, immediate in
the present life, but in the life to eonlC.
It is true that some men, who are nearly strangers to such
a habit, may be for a time more alarmed by the denunciation
of imlnediate telnporal judgments for their sins, than by any con-
siderations relative to 'the things which are not seen and which
are eternal.' But the effect thus produced is much lcss likely
to be lasting, or while it lasts to be salutary, because telnporal

Essay Y.]

Annotations.

alarnl docs not tend to makc nlen spiritually-nlÍndcd, and any
rcformation of manncrs it may have produccd, will not have
becn foundcd on christian principlcs. A man is not more accept-
nhlc in t111
sight of God than bcforc, though more likely to
aHain the temporal objects he aims at, if he is acting on no
higher motive than the goods and evils of thc prcsent world can
supply. ' ,r erily I say unto you, they have their reward.'
But to look for temporal retribution, is surely inconsistent
with the profession of a rcligion whose Founder was persecutcd
and crucified, and whose first preachers ,,-ere exposed to' hunger,
and thirst, and cold, and nakedness,' and every kind of hardship,
and were 'made the offscouring of all things;' so that they
declared that 'if in this life only they had hope in Christ, they
were of all 111en most miserable.' 'Ye should consider, too, that
those very sufferings were a stumblinghlock to the unbelieving
Jpws; not merely from their being unwilling to expose themselves
to thp like, according to the forewarnings of Jesus, such as ' In this
world ye shall have tribulation;' but still more froln thcir re-
garding these sufferings as a '[nark of divine displeasure, and
consequently a proof that Jesus could not have come from God.
Bccause He ,,-as 'a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief,'
they 'did esteem IIim stricken, S)IITTE
OF GOD, and
afflicted,' and they 'hid their face froln Hinl.'
And it should be remembered, that the Jez()sJ who had been
brought up under a dispensation sanctioned by temporal rewards
and punishments, 'were less inexcusable in this their error, than
tho
e C/u"istiaus who presume to measure the divine favour and
disfavour by telnporal events.

ESSAY 'TI. OF SI
IULATIONl AND DIS-
SI
IULATION.

D ISSll\IULATIO-:X is but a faint kind of policy, or ,,-isdonl
-for it asketh a strong "Tit and a strong heart to know
"hen to tell truth, and to do it-therefore it is the ,veaker sort
of politicians that are the greatest dissemblers.
Tacitus saith, 'Livia sorted 2 well "rith the arts of her husband,
and dissimulation of her son,'3 attributing arts of policy to
Augustus, and dissimulation to Tiherius; and again, .when
J\:Iucianus encourageth ,r espasian to take arms against Vitellius,
he saith, ",r e rise not against the piercing judgment of Augustus,
nor the extreme caution or closeness of Tiberius. H These pro-
perties of arts, or policy, and dissimulation, and closeness) are
indeed habits and faculties seyeral/ and to be distinguished;
for if a man haye that penetration of judgn1ent as 6 he can
discern what things are to be laid open, and what to be secreted,
and what to be showed at half-lights, and to ,,-horn and" hen
(which indeed are arts of state, and arts of life) as Tacitus well
calleth them), to him a habit of dissimulation is a hindrance and
a poorness. But if a Dlan cannot obtain t0 7 that judgnlent,
then it is left to him generally to be close, and a dissembler;
for ,,-here a man cannot choose or vary in particulars, there it
is good to take the safest and wariest "Tay in general, like the
going softly by one that cannot ,yell see. Certainly the ablest
men that eyer "Tere, ha ye had all an openness and frankness of
dealing, and a name of certainty and veracity; but then they
,yere like horses ,yell managed, for they could tell passing well
,,,hen to stop or turn, and at such tinles when they thought the

1 Simulation. The pretend ng that to be wltich is not. 'The feigning to be what
one is not by gesture, action, or behaviour, is called simulation/-South.
2 Sort. To fit; suit.
, It sorts well with your fierccness/-Sltakespere.
3 Tacit. Annal. v. I. 4 Tacit. Hist. ii. 7 6 .
5 Several. Different, distinct.
, Four several armies to the field are led,
'Yhich, high in equallJOpes , four princes lead/-Dryden.
6 As. Tltat. See page 22. 7 Obtain to. AttaÍ1z. to.

Essay yi.J

OJ Sinlulation and Dissimulation.

case indecd rcquircd dissimulation, if then they u
ed it, it came
to l>ass that the former opinion, spread abroad, of thcir good
faith and clearness of dealing, made them almost invisible.
There be three degrccs of this hiding and vciling of a man's
self: the first, closcnc8s, reservation, and seerecy,-when a man
lcavcth hinlself without observation, or without hold to be taken,
wllat he is; the second, dissimulation in the negative,-when a
man lcts fall signs and arguments that he is not that he is;
and the third, simulation in the affirmative,-when a man indus.
triously and cxpres
ly feigns and pretends to be thae he is not.
For the first of these, secrecy, it i& indeed the virtue of a
confessor; and assuredly the secret man heareth many confessions,
for who will open hÍlnself to a blab or a babbler? But if a
man be tlJought sccl'et, it inviteth discovery, as the more close
air suckcth ill the more open; and as in confessing, the revealing
is not for worldly use, but for the ease of a n1an's heart; so
secrct mcn come to the knowledge of many things in that kind,
,,-hile men rather discharge their minds than impart their n1Índs.
In few words, ID)Tstcries are due to secrecy. Bcsides (to say
truth) nakedness is uncon1ely, as well in mind as in body; all(l
it addeth no small reverence to men's manners aud actions, if
they be not altogcther open. As for talkers, and futile 2 persons,
they are commonly vain and credulous withal; for he that
talketh what he knoweth, ,rill also talk what he knüweth not j
thercfore sct it down, that a habit of secrecy is both politic and
nloral; and in this part it is good that a man's face give his
tongue leaye to speak; for the discovery of a man's self, by the
tracts 3 of his countpnanee, is a great "weakness and betraying,
bv how much it is many titnes more Inarked and believed than
., .
a luau's words.
}
or the second, which is dissimu1ation, it followeth many
times upon secrecy, by a necessity; so that he that will be
secret, must be a dissembler in sorne degree,-for lllen are too

1 That. TVhat; that which. 'To do alwaJs that is righteous in th). sight.'-
En,qlish Lilllrg,lf.
2 Futile. Talkaiit'e; loquacious. 'The parable (Prov. xxix. 2), it seems,
especially corrects not theflliililg of vaine per
OIlS which easily utter as wen wLat
may be spoken as what should be secreted; not garrulity whereby they fill others,
even to a surfeit; but the government of speech/-On Learning. By G. ".atts.
3 Tracts. Traits (traicts); feat lli'es.

OJ SiJ1lUlation and Dissirnulation.

[Essay vi.

cunning to suffer a man to keep an indifferene carriage bet" een
both, and to be secret, without swaying the balance on either
side. They will so beset a man with questions, and dra,v him
on, and pick it out of him, that, "without an absurd silence, he
must show an inclination one way; or if he do not, they ,vilJ
gather as much by his silence as by his speech. As for equivo-
cations, or oraculous 2 speeches, they cannot hold out long; so
that no man can be secret, except he give himself a little scope
of dissilnulation, which is, as it were} but the skirts or train of
secrecy.
But for the third degree, which is simulation and false pro-
fession, that I hold more culpable, and less politic, except it be
in great and rare matters; and, therefore, a general custom of
simulation (which is this last degree) is a vice rising either of a
natural falseness, or fearfulness, or of a n1Ïnd that hath some
main faults, which, because a man must needs disguise, it
maketh him practise simulation in other things, lest his hand
should be out of use.
The advantages of simulation and dissimulation are three-
first, to lay asleep opposition, and to surprise; for where a
man's intentions are published, it is an alarnl to call up all that
are against them: the second is, to reservc to a man's self a
fair retreat; for if a man engage himself by a manifest dec1ara-
tion, he lllUSt go through, or take a fall: thc third is, the better
to discover the mind of another; for to hinl that opcns himself,
men will hardly show themselves averse, but will (fair 3 ) let him
go on, and turn their freeùom of speech to freedom of thought;
and therefore it is a good shl'e"wd proverb of the Spaniard, 'Tell
a lie and find a troth,' as if there ,-rere no way of disco,Tery but
by siInulation. There be also three disadvantages to set it even:
the first, that simulation and dissiPlulation commonly carry
'with thenl a show of fearfulness, .which, in any business, doth
s!)oil the feathers of round" flying up to the mark; the second,

1 Indifft'rent. Impartial. 'That they may truly and indiffe'l'enllg minister
justice.'-Prayer for the Church Militant.

Oraculous. Oracular.
'He spoke oraculous and sly;
He'd neither grant the que::;tion nor deny.'-King.
3 .Fair (adverb). Complaisantly.
, Thusfair they parted till the morrow's dawn.'-Dryden.
.. Round. Direct.
, Let her be round with him.'-Shakespere.

Essay \'i.]

Annotations.

that it pnzzleth and perplexeth the concpits l of many, that
perhaps ,,
ould otherwi
e co-operate with hint, and nlake:s a luan
,,'alk almost alone to his own cnrls; the third, and greatest, is,
that it depriycth a man of one of the most principal instruments
for action, ,,
hich is trust aud bclief. The best composition
and temperature 2 is, to have openncss in fame and opinion;
secrecy in hahit; di:s
imnlation in seasonable use; and a !}ower
to feign, if there be no rell1cdy.

AXTITHETA O:Y SL\IUL_\TIOY L",D DISSllIUL
\TIOX.

PRO.
, Dissimulatio, compendiaria sapien-
tia.
, The art of concealing is a short cut
to the most important part cif practical
'wisdom.'

C Sepes consiliorum, dissimulatio.
, Concealment is tlle hedge of our
designs.'

C Qui indissimulalltcr omnia agit, æque
decipit; nam plurimi, aut non capiunt,
aut non credullt.
C He 'who acts in all tldngs openly
does not deceive the le.
s; for 'most
per.
ons i:llher do not umlei.stand, or do
not believe llim.'

COXTRA.
, Quibus artes civiles supra captum
illgenii sunt, iis dissimulatio pro pru-
dentia erit.
, TllOse 'it.hose minds cannot gra.
p
poUt .cal sagacity, substitute dissimul a-
tion for prudence.'

, Qui dissimnlat, præcipuo ad agen-
dum instrumento se privat-i.e., fid(>.
, He 'who practises concealment de-
prive.y himself of a most important in-
strument cif action-namely, confidence.'

'Dissimulatio dissimnlationeminvitat.
, Dissimulation invites dissimulatioIJ.'

ANN 0 TAT ION S.
, Of simulation.'
It is a pity that our language has lost the ,,'ord ' simulation ;'
so that we are forced to make' dissimulation' serve for both
scnses.

( ld quod abest, simulat, dissimulat quod adest.'3

, The ablest 'men have all had an openness and frankness,' &c.
There is much truth in Bacon's remark in the .Antitheta,
that those whose whole conduct is open and undisguised deceiye

1 Conceits.

Concepfion8-as :
, You lun'e a noble and a true conceit
Of godlike amity.'-Shakespere.
Constituiioll. '
IemorJ depends upon the temperature of the

S Temperature.
brain.'-lValls.
3 Simula.tes that which is not; dissimulates that which is.

OJ Sirnulation and Dissimulation.

[Essay "i.

people not the less} because the generality either do not under-
stand them, or do not believe them. And this is particularly
the case ,,-hen those you have to deal ,,-ith are of a crafty cha-
}'acter. They expend great ingenuity in guessing 'what it is
you mean, or what )70U design to do, and the only thing that
never occurs to them is just what you have said.
It is to be observed, how eyer, that some persons, who are not
really frank and open characters, al)pear such from their want
of delicacy and of l'efilled moral taste. They speak openly of
things pertaining to thelnselves (such as most people would
suppress), not from incapacity for disguise} or from meaning to
make a confidant of JOu, but from absence of shame. And
such a person may be capable of much artifice when it suits his
purpose. It is well, therefore, that the inexperienced should
be ,yarned against mistaking shan1elessness for sincerity of
character.
Those who are habitually very reserved, and (as l\Iiss Edge-
worth expresses it in one of her tales), 'think that in general it
is best not to Inention things/ will usually meet with fewer
tangible failures than the more communicative, unless tllese
latter possess an unusual share of sagacity; but the latter will
(unless excessively imprudent) have a greater an10unt of success,
on the whole} by gaining Inany advantages which the others
will have missed.

, They will so beset a 'Jnan (with questions.'

There is, as Bacon observes, a great difficulty in dealing with
such persons; for a true ans"
e}' to their impertinent questions
might do great mischief; and to refuse an answer would be
uuderstood as the same thing. 'Pray, do you know the author
of that article 7 Is it your friend ::\Ir. So-anel-so 7' or, 'Is it
true that your friend Such-a-one has had heavy losses, and is
likely to become insolvent 7' or, 'Is he concealed in such-and-
such a place?' &c. If J'"ou reply, 'I do not chuse to ans,ver,'
this will be considered as equivalent to an ans.wer in the
affirmative.
It is told of Dean S,,
ift, that 'when some one he had lampooned
came and asked hÍln ,,-hether he was the writer of those verses,
he replied, that long ago he had consulted an experienced

Essay vi.]

AIlJzotatiollS.

lawyer what was best to bc ùonc when some scoundrel who
had been shown up in a satire asked him whether he ",'ere the
author; and that the lawyer advised him always, whether he
had writtcn it or not, to deny the authorship,-and, 'accord-
ingly,' said he, 'I now tell you that I am not the author.'
Some similar kind of rebuke is, perhaps, the best answer to
gI ve.
A ,,,-ell-known author once receivcd a letter from a pecr with
,,-hom he ,,-as slightly acquainted, asking him w'hcther he ,,-as
the author of a ccrtain article in the Edinburgh Review. He
replied, that he ne,-er made communications of that kind, except
to intimate fáellds, selected by hin1self for the purpose, 'when
he saw fit. IIis refusal to answer, however, pointed him out-
,,-hich, as it happened, he diclllot care for-as the author. But
a case might occur, in which the revelation of the authorship
might inyolve a friend in ::;ome serious difficulties. In any such
case, he might haye answered ::;on1ething in this style: 'I have
l'ecci,-ecl a letter purporting to be from your lordship, but the
matter of it induces me to suspect that it is a forgery by some
mischieyous trickster. The writer asks whether I am the
author of a certain article. It is a sort of question which no
one has a right to ask; and I think, therefore, that everyone
is bound to discourage such enquiries by ans,vering them-
,,,-hether one is or is not the author-with a rebuke for asking
impertinent questions about private matters. I say (private,'
because, if an article be libellous or seditious) the law is open,
and anyone may proceed against the publisher, and compel
him either to give up the author, or to bear the penalty. If,
again, it contains fa18e statements, these, coming from an
anonymous pen, may be simply contradicted. And if the
arguments be unsound, the obvious course is to refute them.
But 'wllo wrote it, is a question of idle or of mischievous
curiosity, as it relates to the private concerns of an individual.
, If I ,,-ere to ask your lordship, (Do you spend your inconle ?
or lay by? or outrun? Do you and your lady ever ha ye an
altercation? 'Yas shc your first love? or wel'e you attached to
sonlC one el
e before?' If I were to ask such questions, your
lordship's answer would probably be, to desire the footman to
show me out. No,,', the present inquiry I regard as no le
s
unjustifiable, and relating to priyate concerns; and, therefore, I

Of SÏ1nulation and DissiJrlulation.

[Essay vi.

think everyone hound, "when so questioned, ahvaJTsJ whether he
is the author or not, to meet the inquiry with a rebuke.
, I-Ioping that lllY conjecture is right, of the letter's being a
forgery, I remain,' &c.
In an

case, however, in which a refusal to answer does not
convey any inforn1ation, the best way, perhaps, of llleeting im-
pertinent enquiries, is by saying, 'Can you keep a secret?'
and .when the other answers, that he can, you may reply, "Yell,
so can I.'

, The po'wer to feign '1vhen there is no renledy.'
This power is certainly a dangerous one to possess, because
one .will be tempted to say, again and again, and on slighter
and slighter occasions, 'Now, there is no remedy; there is nothing
for it but to feign:' that is, perhaps, there is no other mode of
effecting the object you have in vie,v.
Certainly it is a nobler thing to have the power and not to
use it, than to abstain from feigning, through incapacity. But
there are fe,v cases, and to most people none, in which it is
justifiable. For a general to deceive the enelny by stratagems
(so caned frolll that very circumstance) is quite allowable;
because where no confidence is reposed, none can be violated.
Anrl it is a kind of 'war that is carried on between policenlen
and thieves. In dealing ,vith machnen, again, there is no more
fraud in deceiving them than in angling for trout with an arti-
ficial fly; because you are not really dcaling with fello,v-lÎlen.
But "with the exception of such cases, feigning cannot be
justified.

, Dissirnulation is but a faint kind of policy.'
"That Bacon says of the inexpediency of all insincere proceed-
ings is very true. Nothing but the right can ever be the eXIJedient,
since that can ne\Ter be true expediency which ,vould sacrifice a
greater good to a less,-' For what shall it p'rofit a man, if he
shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul.' It ,,-ill be
found that all frauds, like the 'wall daubcd with untempered
mortar,' with which men think to buttress up an edifice, tend
to the decay of that which they are deviscd to support. "This
truth, however, will ncyer be steadily actcd on by those ,vho
haye no moral detestation of falsehood. It is not given to

Essay' i.]

Annotations.

those 'who do not prize straightforwardness for its own sake to
perceivc that it is thc wisest coursc. rThe maxinl that (honesty
is thc best policy' is onc TI'hich, perhap
J no one ever is hahitually
guided by in practice. .A_1l honcst Ulau is always before it, aud a
knave is generally behind it. fIe does not find out, till too late,
, 'Vhat a tangled web we weave
"
hen first we practise to dpceive.'
No one, in fact, is capable of fully appreciating the ultimate
expedicncy of a de, oted adherence to Truth,
ave the divine
Being, "ho is (the Truth j' because lIe alone comprchends the
,,'hole of the yast and imperfectly-re'
ealed scheme of Providence,
and alone can see the inmost l'eccsses of the hunlan heart, and
alone can foresee and judge of the remotest consequences of
lllunan actions.

1:'

ESSAY VII. OF p
\nENTS A:ND CIIILDREN.

T HE joys of parents are secret, anù so are their griefs and
fears; they cannot utter the one, nor they will noe utter
the other. Children s"
eetell labours, but they make misfor-
tunes more bitter; they increase the cares of life, but they
mitigate the remell1hrance of death. The perpetuity by genera-
tion is common to beasts; but memory, merit, and noble works,
are proper to men-and surely a man shan see the noblest
,yorks and foundations have proceeùed from childless nlen,
,vhich have sought to express the images of their minds, where
those of their bodies ha,-e failed-so the care of posterity is
most in them that have no posterity. They that are the first
raisers of their houses are most indulgent towards their chil-
dren, beholding them as the continuance, not only of their
kind, but of their ,vork; and so both children and creatures.
The difference in affection of parents tow.ards their several
children is many times unequal, and sometinles UIHvorthy,
especially in the mother; as Solomon saith, 'A wise son re-
joiceth the father, but an ungracious son shames the mother.'2
A man shall see, where there is a house full of children, one or
t,vo of the eldest respected, and the youngest made "
antons;
but in the midst some that are as it 'were forgotten, ,,-ho, many
times, nevertheless, pl'oye the best. The illiberality of parents,
in allowance towards their children, is a harmfuP error, and
makes them base, acquaints them 'with shifts, makes them so1'1' l
,vith mean company, and makes them surfeit more when they
come to plenty; and therefore the p1'00f is best 'when 111ell keep
their authority to,vards their childrell, but not their purse. l\Ien
have a foolish manner (both parents, and schoolmasters, and ser-
vants), in creating and breeding an emulation between brothers

1 Xor they will not. Nor u'ill they. 2 Proverbs x. I.
3 Harmful. Pernicious.
, Sleepy poppies harniful harvests yield.' -Dryden.
4 Sort. To associate 'with; to consort. 'Metals sort and herd with other
metals in the earth.' -1Voodward.

Essay vii.]

Annotations.

during childhood, which lllany tinles sorteth l to discord when
thcy are mcn, and disturbeth fan1Ïlies. The Italians make
little difference between children and ncphcws, or near kinsfolks j
but so they be of the hnnp thcy care not, though they pa:ss not
through thcir own botly-and, to say truth, ill nature it is
Dluch a like matter; insonluch that we see a nephew some-
times rescnl bleth an unclc, or a kiusman, more than his own
parents, as the blood happens. Lct parcnts chuse betimes the
vocations and courses they luean their children
hould take,
for then they are most flexible; and let thenl not too much
apply thelnselves to the disposition of their children, as think-
ing they will take best to that which they haye 1110st mind to.
I t is true, that if the affection/ or aptness, of the children be
extraordinary, then it is gooù not to cross it; but generally the
precellt is good, 'Optilllum elige, suave et facile illud faciet con-
suetudo.' 3 Y oungcr hrothers are commonly fortunate, but
seldom or ncyer .where the elder are disinherited.

AXNOT.A.TIO:XS.

, Let parents ckuse betilnes tlle vocations and courses they
nean
their children should take. And let them not too

nllc}t apply themselves to the dispositions of their children.'

It is only in very rare and extreme cases that Bacon allows
the inclination of childrcn to be follo,vec1 in the choice of a
profession. But he surely 111akes too little allowance (and,
perhaps, the nlajority of parents do so) for the great diyersity
of natural faculties. It is not only such marvellous geniuses
as occur but in fi,.e out of a million j that ,viII 8ucceed in one
course far better than in any other. Numbers of men who
would never attain any extraordinary eminence in anything j

1 Sort. To issue in (from sortir).

All my pains is sorted to no proof.' -Shakespere.
2 Aff
>ction. Strong inclination to. < All the precepts of Christianity commanJ
us to temper our affections towards all things below.'-Temple.
3
Chuse the best, and custom will render it agreeable and ea:5j".'
}' 2

Of Parents (l'nd Children.

[Essay ,"ii.

are yet so constituted as to make a very re3pectalJle figure in
the departInent that is suited for them, and to fall below medio-
crity in a different one.
The ,,"odd has been compared by some one to a board covered
with holes of many various shapes, and pegs fitted for each, but
which are scattered about at rand 011) , so that it is a mere
chance ,vhether a peg falls into the hole that fits it.
A. B. ,vas the son of a schoolmaster ,,-ho had a great lo,'e
of literature. He had a perfect hatred of it, and was a mere
dUllce at his book. Various attempts ,vere made, which proved
perfect failures, to train him to some of ,,-hat are called the
learned professions; and he ,vas, to all appearance, turning out
what they call a (ne'er-do-weel.' As a last resource he ,vas
sent out to a new colony. There he ,vas in his element; for,
,vhen at school, though dull at learning and soon forgetting
what he had read, he never sa,v a horse or a carriage once that
he did not always recognise; and he readily understood all that
belonged to each. In the colony he became one of the Ino
t
thriving settlers; skilful in making roads, erecting Inills, drain-
ing, cattle-breeding, &c., and ,vas advanced to a situation of
trust in the colony. And it is ,yorth remarking that he became
a very steady and well-conducted man, having been before
the reverse. For it adds greatly to a young m:ìn's tenlptatiol1s
to fall into habits of idleness and dissipation, if he is occupied
in sonle pursuit in ,vhich he despairs of success, and for which
he has a strong disinclination.
C. D., again, was at a university, and ,vas below the average
in all academical pursuits; but he ,vas the greatest Inechanical
geuius in the university, not excepting the professors. He
never examined any machine, howe,"er complex, that he could
not ,vith his own hands construct a model of it, and sometinles
,vith impro,"ements. lIe ,vould have made a first-rate engineer;
but family arrangements caused him to take Orders. He was a
diligent and conscientious clergyman, but a dull and COlnmOIl-
place one; except that, in repairing, and altering, and fitting
up his parsonage and his church, he was unrivalled. In this
sense no one could be more edifying.
"Then, however, a youth is supposed to have, and belieyes
himself to have, a great turn for such and such a profession, you
should nlakc sure that he understands ,,-hat the profession i.s,

Essay \'iiJ

Annotatiulls.

and has faculties for what it really docs rcquire. .A. youth, e.g.,
who is anxious to entcr the Kayy, and thinks ou]y of sailing
ahout to yal'ious countries, haying au o('easiollal brush with an
encmy, alid leading altogether a jolly life, without any notion of
the study, and toils, and pri,'ations he will ha,'e to go through,
should hayc his yiew
corrected.
E. 11'. was thought by his friends to have luade thi'3 n1Ïstakc;
and when, at his earnest cntreaty, he was sent to sea, they
secretly begged the captain to 1nake his life as unplcasant
as possiblc, heing anxious to sicken him. lIe" as accordingly
snuhbed, and ratcd, aud set to the most lahorious duties, aud
neyer cOlnmclldccl or encouraged. But he bore all, and did all,
with unflinching patience and diligence. At last the captain
reyealed the whole to hÏ1n, saying, 'I can carryon this di..guise
no longer; you are thc finest young U1an I e,-pr had under
me, and I hayc long adn1Îred your conduct whilc I pretended
to scold you.' But perhaps part of his good conùuct may have
sprung fronl the cause which Bacon alludes to in the last
sentence of his Essay on )Iarriage.
It is observable that a parent who is unselfish, and who is
ne,'cr thinking of personal incon,yenienee, but always of the
children's advantage, will be likely to Jnake them selfish; for she
,,,ill let that too plainly appear, so as to fill the child with an
idea that everything is to give way to him, and that his concerns
are an ultimate end. Nay, the very pains taken with hin1 in
strictly controlling hinl, heightens his idea of his own yast
importance; whereas a parent who is selfish will be sure to
accustoln the child to sacrifice his own conyenience, and to
understand that he is of much less importance than the parent.
This, by the way, is only one of rnany ea.ses in ,,-hich selfishness
is caught from those" ho have least of it.

ESSAY 'TIll.

OF :àIARRIAGE AND SIKGLE
LIFE.

H E that hath ,vife and children hath given hostages to
fortune; for they are impedinlents to great enterprises,
either of yirtue or mischief. Certainly the best works, and of
greatest 111erit for the public, have proceeded from the unmarried
or childless men, which, both in affection and means, have
married and endowed the public. Yet it ,vere great reason
that those that have children should have greatest care of future
times, unto ,vhich they kno,v they must transn1Ït their dearest
pledges. Some there are, .who, though they lead a single life,
yet their thoughts do end ,vith themselves, and account future
times ilYl11ertinencies / nay, there are some other that account
"rife and children but as bills of charges;2 nay, more, there are
some foolish rich coyetous men that take a pride in having no
children, because they n1ay be thought so much the richer; for,
perhaps, they have heard some talk, (Such a one is a great rich
man,' and another except to it, (Yea, but he hath a great charge
of children,' as if it ,vere an abatell1ent to his riches. But the
most ordinary cause of a single life is liberty, especially in
certain self-pleasing and humorous
n1inds, which are so sensible
of every restraint, as 4 they will go near to thiuk their girdles
and garters to be bonds and shackles. Unmarried men are best
friends, best l11asters, best servants, but not always best subjects,
for they are light to run away, and almost all fugitives are of

1 Impertinencies. Tldngs -wholly irrelevant; Hings of little or no impO'J'{a1lce.
'0 matter and impertinencYll1ixed,
Reason and madness.' -Slwkp.ypere.
'There are many subtle impertinences learnt in scbools.'- "TVatts.
2 Charges. Cost; expense.
, I'll be at charges for a looking-glass,
And entertain a score or two of tailors.'-Shakespe1'e.
3 Humorous. Governed by one's own fancy or pl'edominant inclination.
'I am known to be a humorolls patriciall.'-Slwkespere.
I He that would learn to pa'IÌ.5 a just sentence upùn men anù things, lllU:
,t beware
of a fanciful tempel', and a llltJIWJ'OllS conduct in aft:tÏrs.' -lVatts.
, Or self-conceited, pb)" the IllWW'l'OllS Platollist.'-Drayton.
4 As. Tltat. See p,tge 22.

E
say viii.]

Of 1'.larriage and SiJ1gle Life.

7 1

that condition. A single )ifc cloth wcll with churchmen, for
charity will hardly watcr the ground" here it must first fill a
pool. It is indifferent for judges and magistrates; for if they
he facile
llul corrupt, you shaH have a scrvallt five tinics worse
than a wife. For soldiers, I fiud the gcnerals comnlonly, in
thcir hortati,?cs, put mcn in mind of thcir wives and childrcn;
and I think tIle despising of marriage among the Turks maketh
the vulgar soldier 1110re base. Certainly wife and childrcn are
a kiud of discipline of hun1anit)r; and :single men, though they
be many times n10re charitable, because their means are less
exhaust, l yet, on the other side, they are more cruel and hard-
hearted (good to make severe inquisitors), because their tender-
ness is not so oft called upon. Grave natures, led by custom,
and thcrefore constant, are commonly loving husbands, as was
said of Ulysses, "r etulam suam prætulit immortalitati.' 2 Chaste
.WOlnen are often proud and froward, as presuming upon the
merit of their chastity. It is one of the bcst bonds, both of
chastity and obedicnce, in the wife, if she think her husband
.wise, which she will never do if she find him jealous. 'Vives
are young n1en's mistresses, companions for middle age, and old
men's nurses, so as a mall may have a quarreP to marry when
he will; but yet he was }'eputed one of the wise men that made
answer to the question ,,'hen a man should marry-' A young
man not yet, an elder man not at a1L'4 It is often seen that
bad husbands have very good wives; whether it he that it
raiseth the price of their husband's kindness when it comes, or
that the wives take a prule in their patience; but this never
faih, if the bad husbands were of their own chusing, against
their friellds' cOllsent; for then ther ,viII be sure to make good
their own folly.

1 Exhaust. Exhausted.

, The wealth
Of the Canaries was exhall!d, the 11ealth
Of hi
good lIajesty to celebrate.'-HaLil1gtOll.
2 'Hp preferrcd his old woman to immortality.'-Plut. Gryll. I.
3 Quarrel. A reas01
; a plea. (Perllaps, from Quare, wherefore, used in law
ÍI)r a l)lea. in trespass.) Or perbaps thi8 oldcst use of it for reason or plea, is the
original meaning of querela, retained in querulous-Imtting forth a pitiful plea.
t He thought he had a good quarrel to attack bim.'-Holills7zed.
4 TLalcs. rid. Diog. Laed. i. 26.

7 2

Of lv[(l1Tiage and Single Life.

[Essay yiii.

AKTITHETA O
"
IFE AXD CHILDREN.

PRO.
, Charitas reipublicæ incipit a familia.
'The love of country llas its 'rise ill,
family affection.'

, Uxor et liberi discip1illa quædam
lmmanitatis; at cælibes tetrici et severi.
'A wife and children are a sort of
training in courtesy and kindliness;
'loldle single men, on the other hand, a'J'e
hærd and se'L'e're.'

'Cælibatus et orbitas ad nil aliud
cOllferunt, quam ad fugam.
, Celibacy and absence of kindred are
a qualification only for fligld.'

COXTRA.
'Qui uxorem duxit, et liberos suscepit,
ob:;ides fortunæ dedit.
'He tlwt has a wife and childl"en
has giren hostages to fortune.'

, Brutonlm eternita:; soboles; virorum
fama, merita, et instituta.
, The perpetuation of brutes is off-
spring; but that of man is their glory,
their deserts, alld their institutions.'

'æconomicæ rationes publicas ple-
runque eVf'rtunt.
'Family considerations often 01"er-
tllrO'lV public ones.'

ANXOTATIOXS.

I t is remarkable that Bacon does not at all adyert to the
notion of the superior holiness of a single life, or to the enforced
celibacy of the Roman Catholic clergy.
It is hardly necessary to remark-much less to proye-that,
even supposing thpre ".ere some spiritual adyantage in celibacy,
it ought to be completely voluntary from day to day, and not
to be enforced by a life-long YO,,, or rule. For in this case,
even though a person should not repent of such a YOW, no one
can be sure that there is not such repentance. Supposing that
eyen a large majority of priests, and monks, and nuns, have no
desire to marry, everyone of thenl lllay not ullreasonably be
suspected of such a desire, and no one of them, consequently,
can be secure against the most odious suspicions.
Accol'dingly, n1any of the IllOSt intelligent of the Roman
Catholic laity are very desirous of haying the la,v of celibacy
remoyed. It is not reckoned an article of thc faith, but merely a
lllatter of discipline. Aud accordingly, those of the Greek and

E
:5ay viii.]

A'lliotations.

...\rmcnian Churchcs who ha'"c consented to acknowlcdge Romish
supreluacy, have bCCll alIo"" cd to retain thcir OW11 practice as to
thi
matter; the .Anncllian Church allowing the Inarriage of
thcir priests, and the Greek Church rcqlliri/lg the parish In'jests
to hc marricd.
'Vhcn this was urged by all intclligcnt Roman Catholic
layman, to the late
\rehbi:5hop
rurray, he replied that but fe,v

\.nneniall priests do avail themsch-es of their privilege. This,
answered the othcl', is a strong rcason on my side; for the
ad,-antage which you think there is in an unnlarried priesthood
is secured in a great nlajority of instances, ,yith the very great
additional advantage that their celibacy is there understood to
be completely voluntary. But doubtless the Romish hierarchy
haye becn luuch influenced by the consideration which Bacon
lllentions, that 'single 111en are the 1.K
st selTallbs.' I twas
wished to keep the clergy, ,,-ho are the eUlployed seryants of
the Roman Church, as distinct as pos
ible from the Body of the
people.
In the Greek Church, though eyery parish priest must be a
married man, the bishops never are, being always taken from
anlong the monks.
-'he result of this is (I) that the pari
h
pric:sts, since they cannot rise any higher, are regarded as an
inferior order of lllcn; and, according to the testimony of all
trayel1ers, are a very low set. And (2) the bishop w Ito has to
gOY ern, through the medium of the priests, all the parishes of his
diocese, is ncccssarily a person destitute of all experience. It
is as if the comnland of a fleet were gi,'en (as is sOllletimes done
by the Russians) to a nIilitary officcr.
.J.\. parish priest in the Greek Church, if his 'wife dies, is per-
11lanentIy suspended. For none can officiate "ho is not
Inarried; and he is not allo\\ ed to malTY again. I t is thus they
interpret, as some Protestant diyines al
o haye done (besides
Doctor PrÍlnrose), the rule that he is to be 'the husband of
onc wife.'
The rule is manifcstly and confessedly of doubtflù inter-
prC'tation; some understanding it of a prohibition 111erely of
polygamy; and other
, as relating Inerely to conjugal fidelity.
This last has nlore to be said ill its fayour than would appear
froll1 our translation, on account of the double meanIng In

Of Marriage and Single Life.

[Essay viii.

the original of [VI')], and also of Av)]p, in Greek, and Vir in
Latin.
It lIas been urged against this interpretation, that such a
rule .would have ùeen superfluous; but surely the same might
be said against the I'ule that the deacon should be ' no striker,'
and 'not given to much ,vine.'

ESS4.\ Y IX. OF EN\TY.

T I1ERE be nonc of the affections 'Which have bcen noted to
fascinate or bewitch, but love and cnvy; thcy both have
vehcmcnt wishes, thcy frame themselvcs readily into imagina-
tions and suggestions, and they come easily into the eye, espe-
cially upon the IJresence of the objects, which are the points
that conduce to fascination, if any such thing there he. ",.. c
see, likewise, the Scripture calleth enyy an evil eye, and the
astrologers eall the eyil infl ucnces of the stars evil aspects, so
that still there sec111eth to be ackuowlcdged, in the act of enYYJ
an ejaculation 1 or il'l'adiation of the eye; nay, some ha'-e been
so curious? as to note, that the tin1es when the stroke or pcr-
cussion of an envious eye cloth most hurt, are when the party
envied is bchelcl in glory or triun1ph, for that sets an cdge upon
envy; and, besides, at such tin1es, the spirits of the !)crson
en,'ied do come forth most into the outward parts, and so meet
the blow.
But, leaying these curiosities 3 (though not unworthy to be
thought on in fit place), we will handle 4 what persons are apt to
CllVY others; "hat IJersons are 1110st subject to be eu,-ied them-
selyes; and what is the difference between public and priyatc
envy.
A man that hath no virtue in himself eyer enyieth virtue in
others-for men's minds will either feed upon their own good,
or upon others' eyil; and WL05 wantcth the one 'v ill prey UIJon

1 Ejaculation. The act of thrOlt'Ïng or darting out. '\Yhich brief prayers of
our Saviour platt. xxvi. 39) are properly such as we call ejaculations - an elegant
similitude from the
hooting or throwing out a dart or arrow.'-South.
f Its active rays ejacillate(l thence.
Irraùiate all the wide circumference.' -Blackmore.
2 Curious. Subtle; millutelg inquiring; accurate; precise. 'Both these senses
embrace their objects with a more curious di
crimiuation.'-IIoldel1. ' Having
inquireù of the cllrioltsest and most observing makers of such tools/-Boyle.
, :For curiolls I cannot be with you.' -Slwkespere.
IngeIliou
. 'To devise CW'iOllS works.'-EJ'odus X
XY. 3 2 .
3 Curiositie
. ){iceties. 'Equalities are so weighed, that cU1
iositg in neither
cau make choice of either's moiet
,.' -Shakespere.
'" Handle. To treat; to discllss.
, He left nothing fitting for the purpose
rntouch'd or slightly handled in dbcourse.'-Shakespere.
5 'Y1)O. He who. 'n
ho talks much, must talk in vain/-Gag.

7 6

Of Envy.

[E.3:3ay ix.

the otller; and ,vhoso l is out of hope to attain another's virtue,
will seck to come at even hand, by depressing another's fortune.
A man thai is busy and inquisitive is comnlonly envious;
for to know nluch of other men's nlatters cannot be because all
that ad0 2 may concern his own estate; therefore it must needs be
that he taketh a kind of play-pleasure in looking upon the for-
tunes of othcrs; neither can he that nlindeth but his own busi-
ness find much matter for envy; for envy is a gadding passion,
and ,valketh the streets, anti cloth not keep home: 'Non est
curiosus, quin idem sit malevolus.'3
l\Icn of noble birth are noted to be enviolls towards ne,v
men when they rise: for the distance is altered; and it is like
a deceit of the eye, that "Then others COll1e on they think them-
seh-es go back.
Deformed persons and eunuchs, and old men and bastards,
are envious; for he that cannot possihly mend his o,vn case,
",-ill do what he can to inl pair another's; except these defects
light upon a very brave aud heroical nature, ",-hich thinketh to
make his natural wants l)art of his honour; in that it should be
said, 'That an eunuch, or a lalne mall, did such great matters;'
affecting 4 the honour of a miracle: as it ,vas in X arses the
eunuch, and Agesilaus and Talnerlane, tllat ,vel'e lame men.
The same is the case of men who risc after cahnnities and
nlisfortunes; for they are as nlen fallen out with the times, and
think other lTIen'S harms a redelnptioll of their o"Tn sufferings.
They that desire to excel in too many matters, out of levity
and vain glory, are ever envious, for they cannot ,vant wor1\.-
it being inlpossible but many, in some one of those things,
should surpass them; which ,vas the character of Adrian the
enlperor,s that nlortally cnvied poets and painters, and artificers
in ,yorks ,,,herein he had a vcin 6 to excel.
Lastly, near kinsfolks and fcllo,rs in office, and those that

1 'Yhoso. Whoe1.'er. 'TVlIOSO offt'reth praise glorifieth me.'-Ps. 1. 23.
2 Ado. Bustle - really the infinitive mood of a vcrb t'quivalent to the ex-
l)ression 'to do.' - U scd in the plural adoes in the old Scottish Acts of Parliamcnt.
-Rev. H. Cotton.
, Let's follow, to see the end of this ado.'
':l\1uch Ado aùout Kothing.'-Sltakespe1'e.
3 'T1wre is none curious that is not also malerolellt.'-Cf. Pluto de Curios. I.
4 Aflècting. See page I. 5
partian. rit. Adrian. 15.
6 Humour; fancy.
'Thou troublest mCj I am not in the vein.'-Sltakespere.

E 1 .
a, T I . X ]

, . ....

OJ Ell?"!!.

7ï

are hrcd together, arC' 1110rc apt to ellYY their equal.., when t11ey
are raised; for it <loth uphraid unto thcln thcir own fortune..;,
and pointeth at thenl, and COIl1cth oftcner into their remern-
braucc, and illcurreth 1 likewise more into thc note of others;
and f'1l"Y eycr rec10ublcth fron1 speech and fan1c. Cain's ell"Y
was thc lllore yile and malignant towards his brothcr A.bel,
because, when his f5acrifice was bettcr acceptcd, there ",.as
nobody to look on. 'fhus much for those that are apt to envy.
Concerning those that are morc or less suhjcct to cnvy.
First, persons of eminent virtue, when they are advanced, arc
lcss cllyicd, for their forttule
eenleth but due unto them; and
no man cllvieth the paymcnt of a debt, but rewards and liberality
rathf'r. Again, envy is c,-er joined with the comparing of a man's
self; and where there is no con1parison, no euvy-and therefore
kings are not envied but hy kings. K evertheless, it is to be
noted, that unworthy persons are most enyicd at their first
coming in, and afterwards oyercome it better; whel'cas, contrary-
,vise,2 persons of worth and n1erit are lllost envicd when their
fortune contillucth long; for by that tiu1C, though their virtue
be the same, yet it hath not the same lustre, for fresh luen
grow up to darken it.
Per:sons of noble blood are lcss enyicd in thcir rising, for it
sccn1eth but Tight donc to their birth: bcsides, there seemcth
110t much addcd to their fortune; and euyy is as the sunbeanls,
that beat hotter upon a bank, or steep rising ground, than upon
a flat; and, for the same reason, those that are advanced by
degrees are less enyieù than those that are advanced suddenly,
and (per saltum.' 3
Those that ha,-e joincd .with their honour great trayels, cares,
or peri]s, are les::; subject to envy; for men think that they
earn their honours hardly, and pity them sometimes, and pity
eycr healeth en'"y: whcrefore you shall observe, that the more
dcep and sober sort of politic l)erSOllS, in their greatl1es
, are
eyer bemoaning thell1selves what a life they lcad, chanting a
(quanta patinnlr jH not that they fecI it so, but only to abate

o 1 Incur. To press 011. ' The mind of man is l1elpeð or hindered in its opera-
tions according to the different qmùity of external objects that incur into the
sen
{'s.' -Soutll.
2 Contrariwise. On the contra/Yo 3 '.At a bound.'
4 'How much we sufler
'

7 8

Of Enry.

[Essay ix.

the cdge of enyy: but this is to be undcrstood of business that
is laid upon men, and not such as they call unto thelnsel ves ;
for nothing increa
eth en yy nlore than an unnecc
sary and
ambitious engrossing of business-and nothing cloth extinguish
envy more than for a great pcrson to preserve all other inferior
officers in their full rights and pre-eminences of their places;
for, by that means, there be so nlany screcns betwcen hinl and
envy.
Above all, those are most subject to envy "\vhich carry the
greatness of their fortunes in an insolent and proud manner-
being never well but .while they are showing ho\v great they
are, either by outward pomp, or by triunlphillg over all opposi-
tion or competition: ,,,,here as ,vise men .will rather ùo sacrifice
to envy, in suffering themselves, somctimes of I purpose, to be
crossed and oyerborne in things that do nut much concern then1.
Notwithstanding, so much is true, that the carriage of greatness
in a plain and 011en manner (so it be .without arrogancy2 and
vain-glory), doth draw lcss envy than if it be in a more crafty
and cunning fashion; for in that course a man doth but disavow
fortune, and seelneth to be conscious of his own ,vant in \vorth,
and àoth but teach others to envy him.
Lastly, to conclude this part, as "\ve said in the beginning
that the act of envy had somewhat in it of witchcraft, so there
is no other cure of envy but the cure of witchcraft; and that is,
to remove the lot (as they call it), and to lay it upon another;
for which purpose, the wiscr sort of great persons bring in eycr
upon the stage somebody upon whom to derive 3 the envy that
would come upon thelnselves; sometimes upon ministers and
Sel
Yallts, sometimes upon colleagues and associates, and the
like; and, for that turn, there are never \vanting SOlne persons
of violent and undertakillg 4 natures, who, so they nlay have
po\ver and business, ,rill take it at any cost.
No\v, to speak of public envy. There is yet some good in

1 Of. By. 0
pu1"pose; by design; intentionally. 'The
T do of right belon

to you.'-Tillotson.
2 Arrogancy. Arrogance. 'Let not arrogallcy come out of
'our mouth/-
I Samuel xi.
3 Derive. To divert, to turn tl
e course of. 'Company abates the torrent of a
common oùium by deril.'ing it into many channels/-South.
4 Ll1dertaking. Entel-prising. 'l\len of renOWll, that is, of undertaking and

dventurous natures.'-Si1" TValter Raleigh.

Essay h.]

OJ Ellvy.

public en, y, whereas in private there is none; for public CllYY
i:s as an o
tracism, that cclipscth men whcn they grow too grcat;
aud thcrcfore it is a bridle also to great ones to keep within
bounds.
This envy, bcing in the Latin word' invidia,' goeth in the
modern languages by the name of discontcntment, of which we
shall t-speak in handling sedition. It is a disease in a State
like to infection; for as infection spreadeth upon that .which is
sound, and taintcth it., so, ,vhell envy is gotten once into a
State, it traduceth even the best actions therpof, and turneth
them into an ill odour; and therefore there is little 'won by in-
termingling of plausible l actions; for that doth argue but a
,veakne
s and fear of envy, ,dlich hurteth SO 11luch the more; as
it is likewise usual in infections, 'which, if you fear them, rou
call them upon you.
This public envy seemeth to Lear chiefly upon principal
officers or luinistel's, rather than upon kings aud States them-
selves. But this is a sure rule, that if the envy upon the
minister be great, ,,-hen the cause of it in him is small, or if
the envy be general in a manner upon all the ministers of an
estate, then the envy (though hidden) is truly upon the State
itself. And so much of public envy or discontentment, and the
difference thereof from private envy, 'which 'Was handled in the
first place.
'Ye wi.!l add this in general, touching the affection of envy,
that of all other affections it is the DI0St importune
and con-
tinual; for of other afiectiolls there is occasion given but
now' and then; and theref<.>re it was well said, 'lnyidia festos
dies non agit,'3 for it is e,Ter working upon
ome or other. And
it is also noted, that love and enyy do Inake a luan pine, which
othcr affections do not, because they are not so continual. It
is also the yilest affection, and the most deprayed; for which
cause it i
the proper attribute of the Devil, who is called' The

1 Plausible. Deserving to meet 'lcith applause. 'I hope they will plausibly
receive our attempt.'-Brown.
2 Importune. Importunate; troubleso me ft'om frequency.
, )[o'fe shall thy l)enitent sighs, his endless mercy please
Than their importune suits which dreame that words God's wrath appease.'-
Surrey.

3 , Euvy keeps no holida
.s.'

OJ Envy.

[Essay ix.

envious man, that soweth tares amongst the ,,
heat by night j' as
it always cOlneth to pass, that envy workcth subtilely, and in
the dark, and to the prejudice of good things, such as is the
,vheat.

ANTITHETA O
EXVY.

r PRO.
"lnvidia in rebuspublicis, tanquam
salnbris ostracismus.
, In pnblic affairs, envy acts the pad
of a wholesome ostracism.'

CO:YTRA.
, N emo virtuti invidiam reconcilia-
vcrit præter mortem.
, NotldJlg can reconcile enl'Y to 'Vi'due
but death.'

'Invidia yirtutes laboribus exercet,
ut Juno Herculem.
'Envy acts towards the vid'lles as
Juno did tOllmì"ds Hel'cules; sIte con-
demns them to toilsome labours.'

ANKOTATIONS.

In Adam Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments, the following
admirable remarks are made on the envy that attends a sudden
rIse :-
'The man who, by some sudden revolution of fOl,tune, is
lifted up all at once into a condition of life greatly above what
he had forn1erly lived in, may be assured that the congratula-
tions of his best friends are not all of them perfectly sincere.
An upstart, though of the greatest merit, is generally disagree-
able, and a sentiment of envy commonly preyellts us from
heartily s
Tm_pathizing ,rith his joy. If he has any judgment,
he is sensible of this, and instead of appearing to be elated ,,
ith
his good fortune, he endeavours, as much as he can, to smother
his joy, and keep do,yn that elevation of mind with ,,
hich his
ne,v circumstances naturally inspire hÍln. He affects the same
plainness of dress, and the same modesty of behaviour, ,vhich
became him in hi
former station. lIe redoubles his attention
to his old friends, and endeavours 1110re than ever to be humble,
assiduous, and complaisant. And this is the behaviour ,yhich
in his situation 1Ve nlost approve of; because, we expect, it
seems, that he should have n10re sympathy ".ith our envy and
aversion to his happiness, than ,ve have ,vith his happiness.
It is seldom that ,rith all this he succeed
. 'Ye suspect thc

ay iÀ.]

Annotations.

sinc('rity of his humility, and he grows weary of thi
con
traint.
In a little tinle, thcrefore, he generally leaves all his old fricnds
bchind him, some of the meancst of them excepted, who may,
l)crhap
, condesccnd to become his dependents: nor does he
always acquire any new ones; tlu: pride of his new connections
is as much afti'onted at finding him their equal, as that of his
old oncs had been by his becoming th{'ir superior: and it requires
the 1110
t ohstinate and persevering modesty to atone for this
mortification to either. He gcnerally grows weary too soon,
and is provoked, by the sullen and SUSI)icious pride of the one,
and by the saucy contempt of the other, to treat the first with
l1Pglect, and the second with petulance, till at last he grows
habitually insolent, and forfeits the esteem of all. If the chief
part of human happiness arises from the consciousness of being
belo\yed, as I believe it does, those sudden changes of fortune
seldom contribute much to happiness. lIe is happiest who
ad,yauces more gradually to greatness; whom the Public destinc

to e,-ery stcp of his preferment long before he arrives at it; in
whom, upon that account, when it comes, it can excite no ex-
travagant joy, and ,vith regard to whonl it cannot reasonably
create either any jealousy in those he o\yertakes, or any envy in
those he leaves behind.'l

'Persons of eUlinent virtue, 'wllen they are advanced, are less
envied.'

Bacon 111ight have ren1arkec1 that, in one respect a rise by
merit expo
es a man to more eu\'y than that by personal fa\'our,
through family connection, private friendship, &c. For, in this
latter case, the systenL itself of preferring pri "ate considerations
to puhlic, is chiefly hlalued, but the individual thus a(h-allCed is
regarded much in the
ame way as oue who is born to an
estate or a title. }
ut whcn anyone is advan
ed on the score
of de'Scrt and qualifications, the systeul is approved, hut the
indi\Tidual is nlore envied, lx'cause his ad, ancenlent is felt as au
aftì'out to all who think thernseh-es or their own friends more
.worthy. ' It is quite right to ach-ance men of great merit; but
by tl.ïs rule" it is I, or IUY friend So-and-so that should have

1 Ad-.lm Smith's Theory of JIoral Sentiments, chap. v.
G

Of Envy.

[Essay ix.

been preferred.' When, on the other hand, a bishop or a
minister appoints his own son or private friend to some office,
everyone else is left free to think' If it had gone by merit, I
should haye been the man.'
"Then any person of really eminent virtue becomes the object
of envy, the clamour and abuse by which he is assailed, is but
the sign and accompaniment of his success in doing service to
the Public. And if he is a truly ,vise man, he will take no more
notice of it than the moon docs of the how ling of the dogs.
lIeI' only answer to them is 'to shine on.'

l Tit-is puúlic envy seerneth to bear chiefly upon principal officers
or m'inisters, rather than upon kings.'

This is a very just remark, and it might have suggested an
excellent argument (touched on in the Lessons on the BrUisll
Constitution l ) in favour of hereditary Royalty. It is surely a
good thing that there should be some feeling of loyalty unalloyed
by en'"y, towards something in the Government. And this
feeling concentrates itself among us, upon the Sovereign. But
in a pure Republic, the abstract idea of the State--the Common-
wealth itself-is too vague for the vulgar mind to take hold of
,vith any loyal affection. The President, and everyone of the
public officers, has been raised from the ranks; and the very
circumstance of their havillg been so raised on the score of
supposed fitness, makes them (as was observed above) the more
obnoxious to envy, because their elevation is felt as an affront
to their rivals.
An hereditary Sovereign, on the other hand, if believed to
possess personal merit, is regarded as a Godsend; but he does
not hold his place by that tenure.
In Aristotle's Rltetorric, there is a Dissertation on Envy,
Emulation, and Indignation (Nemesis), 'well worthy of Bacon;
,vho certainly ,vas carried a,vay into an undue neglect and dis-
paragement of Aristotle by the absurd idolatry of ,vhich he had
been made the 0 bj ect.
& COllculcatur enim cupide minis ante metutum.'

1 See Introductory Lessons on tlte British Constitution, Lesson i.

ESSAY X. OF LO"Y"E.

T IlE stage is more beholding 1 to love than the life of
Ian j
for as to the stage, love is even matter of comedies, and
now and thcn of tragedics j but in life it doth much mischief,
sometimcs like a syren, sometimes like a fury. You may
observe, that Hmongst all thc great and ,vorthy persons (whereof
the menlory rClnaineth, eithcr ancicnt or recent), there is not
one that hath been transported to the mad degree of love; which
shows that great spirits and great business do keep out this
weak passion. You must cxccpt, nevertheless,
Iarcus Antonius,
the half-partncr of the empire of Rome, and Appius Claudius,
the dccemvir and lawgiver; whereof the former ,vas indeed a
voluptuous man, and inordinate, but the latter was an austere
and wise man: and therefore it seems (though rarely) that love
can find entrance, not only into an open heart, but also into a
l1eal't well fortified, if watch be not well kept. It is a poor
saying of Epicurus, ' Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus,'2
-as if l\Ian, made for the contemplation of heaven, and all
noble olJjects, should do nothing but kneel before a little idol,
and make hinlself a subject, though not of the mouth (as beasts
are), yet of the eye, which was given him for higher purposes.
It is a strange thing to note the excess of this passion, and how
it braves the nature and value of things by this, that the speak-
ing in a perpetual hyperbole is comely ill nothing but in love;
neithcr is it merely in the phrase; for "whereas it hath been
wcll said, 'That the arch flatterer, ,,"ith whom all the petty
flattercrs have intelligence, is a nlan's self:' certainly the lover
is nlore; for there was l1c,.er a proud Ulan thought so absurdly
well of himself as the lover doth of the person loved; and
therefore it was well said, ' That it is impossible to loye and be
wise.'3 K either doth this weakness appear to others only, and
not to the party loved, but to the loved lll0St of all, except the

1 Beholding. Beholden.
'Thanks, lovely Virgins, now might we but know
To whom we had been beholding for this love.'-Ford.
2 '\Y e are a sufficiently great spectacle to each other /
3 'Amare et sapere vix Deo conceditur/-l)ub. 8yr. Sent. 15.
G 2,

Of Love.

[Essar x.

love be reciprocal; for it is a true rule, that love is ever
l'ewarded, either "Tith the reciprocal, or with an inward or secret
contempt; by how much more then men ought to beware of
this passion, which loseth llct only other things, but itsclf. As
for the other losses, the poet's relation doth "'ell figure them:
'That he that preferreth IIelena, quitted the gifts of Juno and
Pallas j' for ,vhosoever esteemeth too much of amorous affection,
quitteth both riches and ,visdom. This passion hath its floods
in the very timcs of ,,'eakness, ,vhich are great prosperity and
great adyersity; though this latter hath been less observed;
both which times kindle love, and make it more fervent, and
therefore show it to be the child of folly. They do best ,,,ho,
if they cannot but admit love, yet make it keep quarter/ and
sever it wholly from their serious affairs and actions of life; for
if it check 2 once ,vith business, it troubleth men's fortunes, and
maketh men that they can no W. ays 3 be true to their own ends.
I know not ho,v, but martial men are given to love: I think it
is, but as they are given to ,vine, for perils comn10nly ask to be
paid in pleasures. 4 There is in man's nature a secret inclination
and motion towards love of others, 'which, if it be not spent
upon some one or a fe,v, cloth naturally spread itself towards
many, and makcth men become humane and charitable, as it
is seen sometimes in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind;
friendly love perfecteth it; but wanton love corrupteth and
cmbaseth b it.

1 Quarter. Proper place (rarely used in the singular).
, Swift to their se\Teral quarters hasted then
The cumbrous elements.' -Milton.
2 Check with. To inferfere with; to clash with. 'It was not comely or fitting
that in prayers we should make a God or Saviour of :m.v Saint in heaven; neither
was it fittiug to make them check with our Sa\ iour.'-Strype, 153,).
3 Noways. In, any wise; b.1J no means. 'And being no ways a match for the
fleet, we set sail to At.hens/-Swift.
4 It is remarked by Aristotle in his Politics that 'Warlike nations are those who
pay the highest regard to women. And this he suggests may have gi\-Cll rise to
the fable of the love of :Mars and Venus.
:I Embase. Degrade.
, Love did embase him
Into a kitchen-drudge/-Old Ballad, 13th century.

E
.
ay x.]

Annotatiolls.

AKXOT.ATIOXS.

'Jlen ought to bewu're of tltis passion, wldelt loseth not only
other t1ângs, but ib;elf' 'TVlwsùever esteemeth
too milch of al1Wl.01lS affection quitteth both 'rielu!s and
1.visdolll.'

The follo" ing pas
agc is extracted from an article on 1\liss
..4. \nsten':s noyels, in the QU(l'rterly Re'l'iew (N o. 24, p. 374)
which was rcprintcd-through a n1istake-in the Remains of
Sir 'V. Scott, though it was not 'written by hÏ1n.
'Bacon, in these days, ,,'ould hardly have needcd to urge so
strongly the dethronenlcnt of the God of Love. The prevailing
fault is not no"., wl.1ateyer it n1ay have hecn, to sacrifice all for
lo,.e :-

, Y cnit enim magnum ùOl1andi parca juventus,
X ec tantum Y. eneris quantum stuÙÏosa culinæ.'

?\Ii
chie\.ous as is the extren1e of sentirrH
ntal enthusiasm and
a 1'01nalltic alid uncalculating extravagance of passion, it is not
the one into which the young folks of the present day are the
lnost likcly to run. Prudential calculations are not indeed to be
excluded iu marriage: to disregard the advice of sober-minded
fricnds on an impol'tant point of conduct is an in1prudence we
would by 110 mcans recomn1end; indced, it is a species of self-
ishness, if, in listening only to the dictates of pas
ion, a man
:sacrifices to its gratification the happiness of those most òear to
hin1 as "ell as his own; though it is not now-a-days the most
lu'cvalcl1t forin of selfishness. But it is no condeUlnation of a
sentimcnt to say, that it becomes blan1eahle when it interferes
with duty, and is uncontrouled by conscicllce. The desire of
riches, powcr, 01' distinctioll,-the taste for ease and comfort,-
arc to bc condenu1cd whcn they transgress these bounds; a
d
lo,'c, if it keep within thenl, evcn tìlough it be somewhat tinged
"ith cnthu
iaSln, and a little at yal'iance with ,,-hat the worldly
call prudcnce, that is, regard for pccuniary ach'autage, may
afford a bcttcr 11loral discipline to the n1Índ than most other
!)aSSiolls. It will not, at least, be dcnicd, that it has often
proycù a powerful
tinlnlus to e'..crtion where others have
failcd)
lld has called forth talcnts unknown before, eycn to tho

Of Love.

[Essay x.

possessor. 'Vhat though the pursuit may be fruitless, and the
hopes visionary? The result may be a real and substantial
benefit, though of anotller kind; the vineyard may have been
cultivated by digging in it for the treasure ,vhich is never to be
found. vVhat though the perfections with
vhich imagination
has decorated the beloved object, may, in fact, exist but in a
slender degree? Still they are believed in and admired as
real; if not, the love is such as does not merit the name; and
it is proverbally true that men become assimilated to the
character (that is, .what they think the character) of the being
they fervently adore. Thus, as in the noblest exhibitions of the
stage, though that "Thich is contemplated be but a fiction, it may
be realized in the mind of the beholder; and, though grasping at
a cloud, he may become ,vorthy of possessing a real goddess.
l\Iany a generous sentiment, and many a virtuous resolution, have
been called fortn and matured by admiration of one, who may
herself, perhaps, have been incapable of either. It matters not
what the object is that a man aspires to be worthy of, and
proposes as a model of imitation, if he does but believe it to be
excellent. :\foreover, all doubts of success (and they are seldom,
if ever, entirely .wanting) must either produce or exercise
hunlility; and the endeavour to study another's interests and
inclinations, and prefer them to one's own, may promote a habit
of general benevolence which Inay outlast the present occasion.
Everything, in short, ,vhich tends to abstract a man in any
..
degree, or in any way, from self-from self-adlniration and sclf-
interest,-has, so far at least, a beneficial influence on character.'

ESS.A.. Y XI. OF GREAT PL_\CE.

l\ {fEN in great place are thrice servants-scrvants of the
ll.l SOyercIgn OJ' State, servants of fame, ani! servants of busi..
ness; so as. they have no freedom, neither 2 in their persons,
nor 2 in their actions, nor in their times. r t is a strange desire
to seek power and to lose liberty, or to seek power over others,
and to lo:sf' pnwer oyer a luau's self. The rising unto place is
laborious, and by paius men come to greater pains; and it is
sometilnes base and by indignities 3 meñ come to dignities. The
standing is slippery, and the regress is either a downfall, or at
least an eclipse, which is a Inelancholy thing: 'CUIll non sis qui
fueris non esse cur velis vivcre. J4 Nay, men cannot retire when
they would, neither will they ,,-hen it 'were reason,s but are im.
patient of priyateness, 6 eyen in age and sickness, ,vhich require
the shadow;7 like old tOWl1Snlen, that ,,-ill be still sitting at
their street door, though thereby they offer age to scorn. Cer-
tainly great persons had need to borrow other men's opinions to
think themselves happy, for if they judge by their own feeling,
they cannot find it; but if they think with themselves what
other men think of then1, and that other men would fain be as
they are, then they are happy as it ,,,ere by report, when,
perhaps, they find the contrary within; for they are the first
that find their own griefs, though they be the last that find
their own faults. Cf'rtainly, men in great fortunes are strangers
to themselves, and while they are in the puzzle of business, they

1 As. That. See page 22. 2 Xeither, nor-for either, or.
3 Indignity. .J.1Ieannes8.

}'Ìe 011 the pelf for which good name is sold,
And honour with indignity debased.'-Spenser.
4 '
ince thou art no longer what thou wast, there is no reason why thou shouldst
wish to live.'
5 Reason. Right; 'reasonable. It is not reason that we should leaye the word
of God, and

rve tablc5.'-A.cts vi. 2.
6 PrÍ\ atenc
s. Pt-ivac!f; retirement. ' He drew him into the fatal circle from a
resob;ed pÎicatel
ess at bis house, when he would well have bent his mind to a
retired course.' -lVotton.
1 Shaùúw. Shade.
, Here, father, take the shadow of thi" tree
For
'our good bost.' -Slwkespere.

Of Great Place.

[Essay xi.

]lave no time to tend their health, either of body or mind: 'Illi
nlors gravis incubat, qui notus nimis omnibus, ignotus moritur
8ibi.' 1 Iu place there is licence to do good aud evil, whereof
the latter is a curse; for in evil, the best condition is not to
will/ the second not to can. 3 But power to do good is the
true and lawful end of aspiring; for good thoughts, though God
accepe them, yet towards men are little bettcr than good
dreams, except they be put in act, and that cannot be ".ithout
power and place, as the vantage and commanding ground.
1\Ierit and good ,\yorks is the end of man's motion, and con-
science 5 of the same is the acconlplishnlent of man's rest; for if
a man can be partaker of God's theatre, he shall likewise be
partaker of God's rest: 'Et conversus Dcus, ut aspiceret opera,
quæ fecernnt manus suæ, vidit quod on1nia essent bona nin1Îs;'6
and then the Sabbath. In the discharge of thy place set before
thee the best examples, for imitation is a globe 7 of precepts;
and after a time set before thee thine own example, and ex-
amine thyself strictly ,,-hether thou didst not best at first.
Neglect not also the examples of those that have carricd then1-
sehTes ill in the same place; not to set off thyself by taxing
their meillory, but to direct thyself '\vhat to avoid. Rcfornl,
therefore, ,,,ithout bravery8 or scandal of former tinles and
persons; but yet set it down to thyself, as ,yell to create good
precedents as to follo'\v them. Reduce tl1Ïngs to the first
institution, and observe wherein and how. they have degenc-
rated; but yet ask counscl of both times-of the ancient
time what is best, and of the later time what is fittest. Seek

I 'Death falls heavily upon him, who, too well known to aU men, dies unac-
quainted with himself.'-Senec. Thyest. xi. 401.
2 1'0 will. To be willing; to desire. 'If nny man 'will do His will, he shall
know of the doctrine whether it be of God.'-Jolm vii. 17.
3 To can. To be able; to have pmt'ej'.
':i\Iecænas and Agrippa who can most with Crcsar.'-Dryden.
4 Accept. To regard favourably. 'In eyery nation, he that feareth Him and
worketh rigllteousne
s is accppfed with llim.'-Acts x. 3!).
:; Conscience. Consciousness. 'The reason why the simpler sort are moyed with
authority is the conscience of t1leir own ignorances/-Hooker.
6 '\Yhl'n God turned to behold the works which his hand had made, he saW that
tJwy were all very good" - Genesis i.
7 Globe. .A body.

, Him around
A globe of fiery seraphim enc1osed.'-1JIilton.
8 Bravery. Brm'ado; parade of defiance.
'11y .\shtaroth, thou shalt ere long lament
These brave'ries in iroIls.'-Miltoll.

Essay xi.]

Of Great Place.

to n1ake thy cnur
e regular, that mcn may know bcforehand
,,-hat they Iuay c
pcct; hut be 110t tuo positive and pcrclnptory,
and cxprcss thysclf well WhCll thou digrcs:5cst fr0111 thy rule.
Preserve the right of thy place, but stir not qucstions of juris-
dietion; and rathcr assume thy right in silence, and de facto, 1
than yoice 2 it with c1aiuls and challenges. Pre
erve likewise
the rights of infcrior places, and think It 11lore honour to direct
in chief than to be busy in all. Enlbrace and in\.ite helps and
advieC's touching the cxecution of thy place; and do not dri,'c
away sHch as bring thee illfornlation, as meddlers, but accept of
them in good part.
The vices of authority are chiefly four: delays, COITuption,
roughness, and facility. For delays, giye easy acces
; keep
tinlcS appointed j go through with that which is in hand,
and interlace not business but of necessity. For corruption,
do not only bind thine own hauds or thy servants' hands
fron1 taking, but bind the hands of suitors also from offer-
ing; for integrity u
cd doth the one, but integrity professed,
and with a manifest detestation of bribery, doth the other; and
ayoid not only the fault, but the suspicion. 'Yhosoc,-cr is found
variable, and changeth manife
tly without Inanifcst cause, giveth
suspicion of corruption; therefore, always, when thou changcst
thinc opinion or course, !)rofcss it plainly, aud declare it, together
with the reasons that moye thee to change, and do not think to
steaJ3 it. A servant or a fa,'ourite, if he be inward/ and no
other apparent cause of esteeln, is COnlTI1011]Y thought but a
by-way to close corruption. For roughncss, it is a needless
cause of discontent: severity breedeth fear, but roughne
:s breedeth
hate. Even rcproofs from authority ought to be grave, and not
taunting. As for facility, it is worse than bribery, for bribes
come but now and then; but if inlportunity or idle respects 5

1 In fact. Really; 't'ìrtua lly.

Y oice. To assert; to declare.
"Yhen I shall voice aloud how gooù
He i
J how great should be.'-Lovelace.
3 Steal. To do secretly.
· 'Twere good to steal our marriage.'-Shakespere.
"Inward. Infimate.
"Vito is most inward with the noble duke.'-SliakesjJPre.
, \ll Ill) inward friends abhorred me.'-Joh }.ix. 19,
5 ne:,pect
. Considerations; motives. "rhaboever secret respects were hkeh' to
m
\'e them.'-Hooker. .
'I would have doff'(} all other respects.'-Shakespere.

9 0

OJ Great Place.

[Essay xi.

lead a man, he shall never be without; as Solomon saith, 'To
respect pcrsons it is not good, for such a man will transgress
for a piece of bread.'
It is most true what ,vas anciently spoken-' A place
shnweth the man; and it sho,yeth some to the better,
and some to the worse.' 'Omnium consensu, capax impcrii,
IllSl inlperasset,' 1 saith Tacitus of Galba; but of Vespa-
sian he saith, 'Solus ilnperantium, Vespasianus 111utatus in
mclius'2-though the onc ,vas meant of sufficiency, the other
of manners and affection. 3 I t is an assured sign of a ".orthy
and gcncrons spirit, whom honour alnends-for honour is, or
shoulrl be, the place of virtue-and as in nature things move
violently to their place, and calmly in their place, so virtue in
anlbitiOll is violent, in authority settlcd and calm. All rising
to great place is hy a ,-rinding stair; and if there be factions, it
is good to side a lnan's self whilst he is in the rising, and to
balance himself ,vhen he is placed. Use the memory of thy
predecessor fairly and tenderly; for if thou dost not, it is a debt
will surely be paid ,yhen thou art gone. If thou have col-
leagnes, respect them; and rather call them ,yhen they look not
for it, than cxclude theln when they have reason to look to be
called. Be not too sensible or too remembering of thy place
in conversation and pri,-ate answers to suitors; but let it rather
he said, "YhCll he sits in place, he is another man.'
AXTITHETA OX GREAT PL
\CE.

PRO.

CO:KTRA.
, Dum honores appetimus, libertatem
exuimus.
'lVhile 'lve are seeking for great
place, we are stripping oUl'selves of
liberty.'
, Honores dant fere potestatem carum
rerum, quas optima conditio est nolle,
proxima non posse.
'The t !lings 'lrhiclt are placed in, a
mall}S power by high office, are,for th.e

, IIonores faciunt et vil'tntes et vitia
conspicua; itaque illns provocant, hæc
rcfrænant.
, Great place 'makes both virtues and
vices conspicuous; accordingly it is an

1 'One whom all would have consiù('red fit for rule, if he had not ruled.'
2 '.Alone of all the emperors, Ve::;pasian was changed for the better/-Tacit.
Hist. i. 9, 50.
:J Atlection. Disposition; general state of mind.
'There grows
In my most ill composed affection, such
A stanchless anu'ice.'-Slwkespere.

Essay xi.]

Annotations.

9 1

PRO.
incentÜ'e to the one and restrains tke
other.'

'Non novit quisquam, qnantum in
virtutis cursu profecerit; nisi honores ei
campum præbeant apcrtum,
'So one knott's how far he has ad-
1.'all,ced on the road of virlu p , unless
public office affords him a field for
act ion.

CO
TRA.
rnmd part, such as it 'would he the best
thing to want tile wish, and the next
best to want the power to do.'

'Honorum ascensns arduus, statio
lubrica, regrcssu
præceps,
, The ascent to high office is steep, the
summit slippery ,the descent precipitous.'

, Qui in honore sunt, vulgi opinionem
mutuentur oportet, ut seipsos beatos
putent.
'Those 1.l.ho hold lLigh office must
borrow the riew which the 'Vulgar take
of them, in order to think themselres
happy.'

AXXOT.ATIOXS.

\ work entitled The Bishop (by the late Dr. Cooke Taylor, but without his name),
contains so many appropriate remarks, that 1 take the liberty of giving
everal
quotations from it. It consists of letters professed to be addressed to a recently-
appointed Bishop.

, Power to do good is the true and lawful end oj aspiring.'

'Two classes of men occupy high station; those "hose time
has been spent in thinking how it could be attained j and those
who ha,-e mainly bestowed their attention on the nse that should
be made of it w.hen attained. 'Yere there no world but this,
tIle conduct of the latter would justly be reckoned preposterou:s ;
they would be regardeù as 'seers of visions alid drealners of
dreams.' "\Yhen, however, they do by chance find themsel,.es
preferred, they are not only well disposed but ready qualified to
use thcir a(h-antages rightly; for the art of true obedience is
the best guide to the art of true command. On the contrary,
he who has thought only of the means by which he might
climb, howe,-er good his intention
, is generally some" hat
abroat1 when he has conlpleted the ascent. lIe is like those
whom we frequently meet, that ha,-e SIlent the best part of
their life in making a fortune, and then do not know what to
do "ith it. Eager to get up, they forget to deternline the
nature of the ground on whiC'h they stand, and they considel'
Hot how it is related to that which they desire to attain: when

9 2

Of Gj'eat Place.

[Es
a y xi.

they have ascended, their former station is at too great a
distance to be surveyed accurately, and the reciprocal influences
cannot be understood, because one side is removed beyond the
reach of observation.' (Page 329.)

, After a time set before thee thine own example.'

, There is a strong temptation to sacrifice the consciousness
of individuality for the syn1pathy of a multitude. The peril of
being seduced from our proper orbit is not less great, when we
seek to join, than when we try to avoid others. There are
those ,,,110 are "Tilling to err with Plato, and thcre are those
'\rho are uln\-illing to go right with Epicurus. A cause is not
necessarily good because some good men have favoured it, nor
necessarily Lad because bad n1ell have supportcd it; yet we al]
kno"
that many ,vell-Inealling men voted against the abolition
of the slave-trade, because it was advocated by some partisans
of the French Revolution. '
( It might at first sight appear that the absurdities of party,
so ob, ious to every thinking man, 'would render the adoption of
a right course a matter of no very great difficulty; indeed, an
aphorism is already provideù for our guidance, which apparently
is as simple and easy as the rule of party itself: 'Steer clear of
both parties; hold the n1iddle coul'se.' But simple and sounù
as the ma
iln may appear, its \ralidity will he greatly weakened
by a close exan1ination. Both parties are not absolutely wTong ;
each is partially wrong and partially right; to keep al,yays equi-
distant fr01TI both is to keep away from the truths as well as
fronl the falsehoods, anù to expose yourself to the chance, or
rather to the certainty, of being influenced by each ill turB.
(It is impossible for a Ulan to realize the fable of 1\Ioham-
n1ed's coffin, and ren1ain for eyer balanceLl behyeen equipollent
attractions, but he may oscillate like a pendulunl between the two
cxtrelnes. In such a case, he will yield to both parties, be
duped by both, and be despised by all. The truly indepelulent
course is to act as if party had no existence; to follo,v that
which is wisest and best in itself, irrespective of the side which
makes the loudest claim to the monopoly of goodness. X 0
doubt, such a course will often approach, or rathcr be ap-
proached by, the orbit of one party at one tillie, and the other

-E:'\say xi.]

Annotations.

at another, just as each of thClll chances to come the nearer
to what is really right. Kay more, as cach party does possess
somc truth mingled with its falsehoods, it is perfectly possible
to be idcntified with one of t" 0 bigoted and opposed parties on

ome special question, and to be sÌ1nilarly identified with the
other party on a different question.
(These coincidences may be caned the
Todes of the different
orbits; and wheu they occur, the proper moven1ents are most
subject to disturbiug influences. The attraction of party varics
inversely as the square of the distance; 'when you are brought
near a powerful and organized mass, there is a strong tempta-
tion to pass oyer the iutcrvening space.' (Page 46-48.)
, The delnand on a great man's liberality is grcatly increased
if he holds hinlself aloof fronl party; for this offence forgi,.eness
can only be purchased by a very la,'Ü,h systelll of disbursementsj
and, after all, he 111USt be preparcd to find that every shilling
be
towcd by party-nlen is equi,'alellt to his pound.
It is not necessary to dilate on the merits of prudent econonlY,
but as
urcdly nowhere is such a virtue more indispensably
l
equired than when dcn1ands on expenditure are regulated, not
by realities, but by imaginations.
'Great as is the e,'il of ha,'illg your expenditure of money and
time measured by th e imaginations of per30ns who do not trouble
themseh.es to investigate realities, the evil is fearfully aggravated
by the diversity of objects to which each set of imagining's
refers. Those who surround you seem to act literally on Swift's
advice to servants, each of whom is reconlmended to do his
best in his o,,"n particular departnlent, to spend the whole of
his nlaster's property. Thus it is "ith your money and time;
eyery person seelllS to expect that both should be besto"
ed on
his fa,'ourite project to their extreme amount, and no one i3
disposed to take into account that there are other claims and
denlands which should nut be abridged in their fair proportions.
There will Le a conlbination to entrap you into a practical ex-
emplification of (the sophism of diyision;' men will say, you can
afford this, that, or the other expense, forgetting that all to-
gether will ruin you.' (Page 8.{.)

OJ Great Place.

[Essay xi.

'Reform, tlierefol"e, 'lcitliout bl'avery or scandal oj fornler tinzes
a- ld persons; but yet set it down to thyself, as well to create
good precedents as to follow tlW/ll.'

'To w.arn a public 111an (says the author of Tile Bishop) of
ordi-nary sense, against innovation, is just as idle as to ,,-arn him
against taking physic: he ,,-ill have recourse to neither one
1101' the other, unless forced by necessity. The thing to be
feared in both cases is, that he will delay the application of
alteratives until the disease can only be cured by violent
remedies. One of the finest rnills in our manufacturing districts
is also one of the oldest; the Inachil1ery in it has always kept
abreast w.ith the progress of modern invention, but it has never
been closed a single day for the purpose of reno,.ation or repair.
I asked its proprietor the explanation of so remarkable a phe-
nomenon; he gave it in one sentence, 'I anI always altering,
but never changing.' J\Ien sometinles deal ,,-ith institutions
as Sir John Cutler did" ith his stockings; they darn them ,vith
,,""orsted until, from silken, they are changed into" oollen, ,,-hile
the stupid owners persist in asserting their continued identity.
The cry of 'innovation' belongs exclusively to the Duncery;
but reluctance to change is a feeling shared with them by
sensible people.
(Alnong the many fallacies of the day that pass unquestioned,
there is none nlore general nor lllore fallacious than that inno-
yation is popular; the truth is, that a judicious innovator is
likely to be, at least for a time, the most unpopular U1an in
the uniyerse: he "Will be hated hy those who are satisfied with old
evils j he "ill be disliked by the timid and the lazy, ,,-ho dread
the peril and the trouùle of change; anù he .will receive little
fayour from those nlost conscious of the evil, because his
remedies will not act as a charm, and remove in an instant the
accll111ulated ills of centuries.
( SOllie persons are not a,vare of the fact, that in all men the
love of ease is far superior to the lo,-e of change; in the serious
concerns of life, novelty is never desired for its own sake; then,
habit becon1es a second nature, and it is only tLe positive pres-
sure of evil that can drive us to alteration. 'Ye do find men
occasionally rash and insatiable in changing; but this is only

Es
=--ay xi.]

Annotations.

from thcir bcing impaticnt under tlle 8cnse of real evils, and in
error as to remedics. The violcnt vicis::;itudes of the first
French Revolution wcre not the result of a mad love of expcri-
Inellts; they were produced by the national bankruptcy of
France, and the star,-ing condition of the people of Paris. An
ignorant Ulan suffering under painful disease "ill try the pre-
scription of every mountebank, and without waiting to see how
one quack medicine operates, will have recourse to another. A
fe,-cred nation, like a feverish paticnt, turns froll1 side to side-
not through love of change, but because, ,,-hile the disease con-
tinues, any fixed posture must be painful. The physician who
superintends his condition kuows that this restle
5ne::,
and im-
patience are synlptonls of thc discase: it would be well if those
who supcrintend our political aud ecclesiastical state, while they
justly rcgard discontents and disturbances as evils in them-
sel n
::;, would also look upon them as certain signs that there is
sOluething wrong somewhere;' (Page 315-318.)

, Embrace and in
'ite helps and adt:ices touching tile execution of
thy office.'
C The dread of unworthy imputations of undue influence may
often dri,"e a worthy man intQ a perilous course. The fear of
being deemed an Í1nitator is scarcely less dangerous than that
of"ùeing supposed to be led. 'Ye frequently see those" ho re-
gard the course of a wise and good man mth lllingled affection
and veneration, influenced by his exaulple for the worse rather
than for the better, by indulging their ruling passion for origin-
ality, and by their abhorrence of being regarded as followers
and in1Ítators. To avoid coincidences becomes the great labour
of their Ii, es, and they take every opportunity of ostentatiously
declaring the originality and independence of their course. X ay,
they will not only declare their originality, but they will seek
to make or find opportunities of exhibiting it, though the course
they adopt in conscquence may be contrary to thcir own secret
judgnlcnt. A nlan who yields to this ,veaklless, which is far
more rife than the world generally l)elieves, is the sla\e of any
one "ho chuses to work upon his foible. The only thing re-
qui:,ite to make him conlmit any conceivable folly, is to dare
Lilli to depart from his friend's counselor example. )liss

9 6

Of Great Place.

[Essay xi.

Edgeworth, in her Juvenile Tales, has admirablv illustrated the
'"
consequence of yielding to such fears; Tarlton in vain strO\Te to
persuade the .weak Lo\yctt to break bounds by appeals to his
conrage, but when he hinted that his refusal would be attributed
to his dependence on the strong-n1Índcd I-Iardy, the poor boy
sprang over the .wan ,vith ner\TOUS alacrity. This dread of
in1Ïtatioll often lead
to the neglect of valuable snggestiolls
,vhich might be derived from the tactics and example of
adversaries. (Fas est et ab hoste doceri,' is a maxim more
frequently quoted than acted on, alid yet its wisdofi] is con-
firmed by every day's experience. A casual remark Inade long
ago to llle by your Lordship contains the rationale of the ,vhole
matter-' It is ignorance, and not knowledge, that rejects instruc-
tion; it is ,veakness, and not strength, that refuses co-opera-
tion.' , (Page 77.)
'In bestowing office, and in selecting instruments, a man anxious
to do his duty must take into account both the kind and degree
of fitness in the candidates. Of the degrees of intelligence the
,vorld is a very incompetent judge, and of the differences in
kind, it knows little or nothing. 'Yith the vulgar everything is
good, bad, or middling; and if three persons are wOl'thy and in-
telligent men, you will find that the preference you sho-w to
anyone of them is considered to be the result of mere caprice.
For instance, you kno\v that the clerical requisites for an agri-
cultural parish are different from those necessary in a manufac.-
turing district, and that both are dissinlilar to the qualifications
for a chaplaincy to a coHegiate institution, or for a prebendal
stall. Your choice will be guided by these considerations; but,
beyond doubt, you will find very few ,,-ho can appreciate or eyen
understand such motives. N ow', this want of dis-
criminating power and knowledge in the spectators of your
career, will by no means induce them to suspend the exercise of
their fallacious judgment; on the contrary, opinions will be pro-
nounced most positively by those who are most ,vanting in
opportunity to discover, and in capacity to estimate, your
motives. But the erroneous judgments of others nlust not
lead you to be suspicious of your own; the value of the tree
will be finally known by its fruits,-it ,vould be folly to neglect
its training, or to grub it up, because people ignorant of the
aùaptations of soil to growth, tell you that another tree in the

Essay
i.J

Annotations.

same place would be nlore uscful or more ornamental. You
know both the soil and the plant-the vast majority of your
censurcrs will know nothing of the one and marvellously little
of the other.' (Page 174.)
C A servant or a favourite, if he be inlvard, and no other apparent
cause of esteem, is cOlnnlonly thought but a by-way to close
corruption.'
C If the relations you form ,vith your subordinates, particu-
larly those whose position brings thcm into frequent and imme-
diate contact with you, be foundcd on intellectual :sympathips,
and conllllon views of great prillciI)les, efforts will be made to
so,v discord bctwecn you, by rcprcsenting him as the jugglcr,
and you as the puppet. In this case calumny disguises its im-
putation by flattery, and complimcnts your heart at the expense
of your hcad. ' lIe is,' the lnaligncrs will say, C a very worthy,
well.ll1C'anillg man, but he se
s only ".ith A. B.'s eyes, and acts
only on A. 13.'8 suggestions; he is a very good and clever man,
but he thinks by proxy.' If you are a student,-if you have
acquired any reputation for scholarship or literatnre,-but,
above all, if you have ever been an author, this in1putation will
be circulated and credited; for one of the most bitter pieces of
revenge which readers take on writers, is to receive inlplicitly
tbe aphorism of the blockheads, that studious habits produce an
inaptitude for the business of active life. The imputation of being
lcd is not vcry plcasant, but it n1ay very safcly be despised; in
the long run men will learn to judge of your actions from their
nature, and not from their supposed origin. But the nature of
this calunlny deserves to be Inore closely investigated, because
thcre is nothing lllore injurious to public mcn than the jealousy
of subordinate strength which it is designed to produce.
'The cases are, indeed, very rare, of an upright, sensible man
being led either by a kna,'c or a fool; but there are countless
c:\alnples of a weak man being lcd by a "eaker, or a low-prin-
ciplcd man by a dowuright rogue. Now, in n10st of these
cascs, it will be found that the subjugation arose fronl trusting
to the impossibility of bcing led by one of obviously inferior
strength. Cunning is the wisdol11 of weakness, and those "ho
chuse the "cak for thcir instruments, expose themselves to its
arts.' (Pagc 68-7 0 .)

9 8

Of Great Place.

[Essay xi.

, As for facility, it is 'worse than bribery.'
'It is scarcely necessary to dwell on the necessity of caution
in bestowing confidence j it is the highest favour in your power
to confer, and deliberation enhances an act of kindness just as
much as it aggravates an act of malice. (Favours which seem
to be dispensed upon an iU1pulse, "ith an unthinking facility,
are received like the liberalities of a spendthrift, and men thank
God for them.' It is of more importance to observe that even
a greater degree of caution is necessary in suspending or with-
drawing confidence; gross indeed should be the treachery, and
unquestionable the proofs, that would justify such a course. The
world generally will blame your original choice; your discarded
adherent will be lowered in his o,vn esteem, and consequently
"rill thus far have maGe a sad progre:ss in moral degradation;
and your own mind will not escape scatheless; for greater
proneness to suspicion ,vill of ne.cessity develope itself in your
character. 1\10st of all is caution required in restoring confi-
dence; constitutional changes are ,vrought in every moral
principle during its period of suspended animation; though
the falling-out of lovers be proverbially the renewal of love, it
is questionable whether the suspended confidence of friends is
ever wholly effaced in its influences. Had Cæsar recovered
from the stab which Brutus gave him, be might, ,vith his usual
clemency, have pardoned the crime; but he would not have been
the Cæsar I take him for, if he did not ever after adopt the
precaution of ,vearing armour when he was in company with
Brutus. The hatred of an enemy is bad enough, but no
earthly passion equals in its intensity the hatred of a friend.
(Page 72.)
'There are people who believe that the voice of censure
should never be heard in an interview, and that you have no
right to rebuke presumption, check interference, or make men
conscious of their weakness. You are to affect a humility, by
)vhich you tacitly confess yourself destitute of moral judgment.
But you must remember that, in interviews connected with yonr
official station, you appear for the most part as an adjudicator;
an appeal is n1ade to you, as holding the balance of justice, and
also as wielder of its sword. (A righteous humility,' says the
author of the Statesman, (will teach' a man never to pass

Essay xi.]

Anllot ations.

scntence in a spirit of exultation: a righteous courage "ill
teach him never to withhold it from fear of being disliked.
Popularity is commonly obtained by a dereliction of the duties
of ccnsure, unclcr a pretext of humility.' (Page 256.)
,rrbere is great danger of praise from men in high place
being identified with pron1Ïse, and compliment tortured into
grounds of hope,-not always hope of promotion, but hope of
intlucncillg pronlotion. Your approbation warmly expressed
will be deemed to have a value beyond the mere expression of
your opinion, and though you expressly guard against expecta-
tions, you will nevertheless raise them. A late chancellor, to
whom more hooks were sent and dedicated than he could
possibly read if his life was prolonged to antcdiluyian duration,
by the comI>lilnentary answers he sent to the authors, gathered
round him a host of expectants, and produced a mass of suffering
w.hich would scarcely be credited sav'e by those who were
personally acquainted with it. !(indness ana cordiality of
manner are scarcely less pleasing to the feelings than express
compliment, and they are the more safe for both parties, since
they afford no foundation for building up expectations; a species
of architecture sufficiently notorious for the weakness of the foun-
dations that support an enormous superstructure.' (Page 163,)
.

( Severity breedeth fear.'

'It nlay be doubted whether it is politic, where a lllan has
"yholly lost your esteem, and has no chance of regaining it, to
let hinl know that his doom is fixed irrevocably. The hope of
recol"ering his place in your estÏ1nation may ùe a serviceable
check on his conduct; and if he supposes you to be merely
angì'Y with him (a mistake comn10nly lllade by yulgar minds),
he may hope and try to pacify you by an altered course, trusting
that in time you will forget all. In such a case you need not
do or say anything deceitful; you have only to leave him in his
error. On the other hand, if he finds that you have no resent.
ment, but that your feeling is confirmed disesteem, and that
the absence of all anger is the very consequence of such a
feeling-for you cannot be angry where you do not mean to
trust again-he nlay turn out a mischievous hater.
'On the ,vhole, however, the frank, open-hearted course ]s
H 2

JOO

Of Great Place.

[Essay xi.

the more politic in the long run. If you use to,yards aU ,vhonl
you really esteem, a language .which in time will come to be
fully understood by all, from its being never used except where
you really esteen1, then, and then only, you will deser\'e ana
obtain the full reliance of the ,yorthy. They will feel certain
that they possess your esteem, and that if they dö anything by
which it may be forfeited, it will be lost for ever. To establish
0-
such a belief is the best Ineans of preserving the peace and
purity of your circle, and it is worth while risking some enmity
to effect so desirable an object.
C It must, however, be obser'
ed that it is equally politic and
christian-like to avoid breaking ,vith anybody: while you pur-
chase no man's forbearance by false hopes of his regaining your
esteem, you nlust not drive him into hostility through fear of
your doing him a mischief. The rule of Spartan warfare is not
inapplicable to the conduct of a christian statesrnan; never give
way to an assailing enemy,-never pursue a flying foe further
thftn is necessary to secure the victory. Let it be always
understood that it is safe to yield to you, and you 'will re-
move the worst element of resistance, despair of pardon.' (Page
7'4.7 6 .)

, Be not too relnelllbering of thy place in conversation anà private
anS'lvers to suitors.'
There may, however, be an error on the opposite side.--
'1\Ien are often called affable and no way proud,' says Dr. Cooke
Taylor in the work already quoted, (,v}JO really exhibit a vulgar
sort of pride in taking liberties, and talking to their inferiors
,,
ith a kind of condescending familiarity ,vhich is gratifying to
mean minds, but ,,
hieh, to every person of delicacy, is the most
odious form of insolence. If you 'wish to be familiar with an
inferior, let him I-ather feel that you have raised him to your
own level than that you have lo,vered yourself to his. You
may see the propriety of this aphorism unfortunately manifested
in books "written by clever men for the use of the humble
classes, and for children. l\Iany of these are rejected as offeu-
sive, because the "rriters deem it necessary to show that they
are going down to a lo,v level of understanding; their familiarity
becomes sheer vulgarity, and their affected simplicity is puzzle-
headed obscurity. The condescensioll of some great people is

E
say xi.]

AnNotations.

101

like the ' lctting down' in such author
; they rcnder themselves
more ridiculou
than IIerculc
at the court of On1phale, for
they assunlC thc distaff without di
cardillg the club and lion's
skin. It is also very unfair; for those who go to admire the
splnnlug, or to bc aUlused at its incongruity, are exposed to
the dangcr of getting an awkward knock from the club.'
(Page 180.)

, Certainly, 7ìlen in great fortunes are strangers to theulselves, anit
'lvldie they are in the puzzle of business they have no time to
tend their healt!l, either of body or 11lÏ,ld.'
The following passage from The Bishop bears upon this en-
gros
1l1cnt in public busine:s
:-' There are t\\ 0 oppo
ite errors
into which lllallY public lllcn 11avc fallen; on the one hand,
allo" ing family concerns to interlningle with public business,
Oll the othcr, sacrificing to their station all the enjoyn1ents.. of
private life. The former interference is rare; it is so ob"iously
a sourcc of pcrplexity and annoyance, that it soon works its own
cure; but the latter 'grows by what it feeds upon.' Unless you
habitually court the privacy of the dOlnestic ci
'cle, you will find
that you are losing that intimate acquaintance ,,-ith those who
conlpose it which is its chief charm, and the source of all its
advantage. In )Tour fanlÍly alone can there be that intercourse
of heart with heart which falls like refreshing dew on the soul
when it is witllered and parched by the heats of business and
the intense selfishness which you must hourly meet in public
life. U ulcss your affections are sheltered in that sanctuary,
they cannot long resist the blighting influence of a constant
repression of their development, and a compulsory substitution
of calculation in thcir stead. DOll1estic pl'i\-acy is nece

ary, not
only to your happiness, but C\Tll to Jour efficiency; it gi\-cs the
rest neces
al'Y to your active powers of judgnlcnt and di:scrimina...
tion; it keeps unclosed those well-springs of the heart whose
flow is llcccssary to float onwa.rd
the detern1Ïuation of the head.
It is not cnough that the indulgence of these affections should
fin up the casual chinks of )your time; they must haye their
allotted portion of it, with which nothing but urgent necessity
should bc allowed to interfere. These things are the aliments
of his gl'Catnc
8; they preser\-e within him that image of moral

102

Of Great Place.

L Essay xi.

beaut.y which constallt intercourse ,,
ith the public world-that
is, the "
orld ,,'ith its worst side outwards-is too likely to
efface. 'If our clergy had been permitted to marry,' said an
intelligent Romanist, 'we never shoulù have had inquisitors.'
(Page 327.)

, A place sltowetlt tlte 'lnan: and it sltowetlt some to the hetter,
and sorne to the worse.

Bacon here quotes a Greek proverb, and a very just one.
Some persons of great promise, "Then raised to high office, either
are puffed np ,vith self-sufficiency, or daunted by the 'high
'winds that blow on high hills,' or in some way or other dis-
appoint expectation. And others, again, show talents and
courage, and other qua1ifications, \vhen thf'se are called forth
by high office, beyond 1V hat anyone gave them credit for before,
and beyond ,,'hat they suspected to be in themselves. It is
unhappily very difficult to judge how a man will conduct himself
in a high office, till the trial has been made. It must not,
however, be forgotten that reno-wn and commendation ,yill, as
in other cases, be indiscriminate. By those whose nearness, or
easiness of access, enables them to form an accurate judgment,
many a public man will be found neither so detestable nor so
admirable as perhaps he is thought by opposite parties. This
truth is well expressed in the fable of 'The Clouds.,l

'Two children once, at eventide,
Thus prattled by their parents' side:-
, See, mother, see that stormy cloud!
'Vhat can its inky bosom shroud?
It looks so black; I do declare
I shudder quite to see it there.'
, And father, father, now bd10ld
Those others, aU of pink and gold!
How beautiful and bright their hue!
I wisIl that I were up there too:
}'or, if they look so fine from here,
'Vhat must they be when one is near!'
'Children,' the smiling sire replied,
, I've climbed a mountain's lofty side,
'Vhere, lifted 'mid the clouds a
vhile,
Distance no longer could bE'guile:
And closer seen, I llpeds must say
That all the clouds are merely grey;

See Fourth Book of the Lessonsfor the Use of :ð
alional ScltOols, page 49.

Essay xi.]

Annotations.

10 3

Differing in .<;/tade from one another,
nut each in colU'llr like his ùrother.
1'hosc cloud
JO\\ see of gold and pink,
To others look as black as ink;
And that same cIoud, so black to you,
To some may wear a golden hue.
E'en so, my chilùrcn, they whom fate
Has planted in a low estate,
Viewing their rulers from nfar,
Admire what prodigies they are.
O! what a tyrant! dreadful doom!
His crimes have wrapped our land in gloom!
A tyrant! na)", a hero this,
The glorious source of a n our bliss!
But they who haunt the magic sphere,
Beholding then its inmates near,
Kuow that the men, by some adored,
By others flouted and aùhorred,
:Kor sink so low, nor rise so high,
As seems it to the ,'ulgar eye.
The man his party deems a hero,
His foes a J mias, or a X ero-
Patriot of superhuman wortll,
Or ,'ilest wretch that cumbers earth,
Derives his bright or murky hues
:From distant and from party views;
Seen close, nor black nor gold are the
',
But everyone a sober grey.' '

ESSAY XII. OF BOLDXESS.

I T is a tri,'ial grammar-school text, but yet 1yorthy a ,vise
man's consideration: question was asked of Demosthenes/
what was the chief part of an orator? lIe ans,vered, action:
what next? action: what next again? action. He said it that knew
it best, and had by nature himself no advantage in that he com-
mended. A strange thing, that that part of an orator ,vhich is
but superficial, and rather the virtue of a player, should be
placed so high above those other noble parts, of invention, elo-
cution, and the rest; nay, almost alone, as if it ,vere all in all.
But the reason is plain. There is in human nature general1y
more of the fool than of the ,rise; and therefore those faculties
by ,vhich the foolish part of men's minds is taken, are most
potent. "\V onderfullike is the case of bolrlness in civil busi-
ness; ,vhat first? boldness: ,,,hat second and third? boldness.
And yet boldness is a child of ignorance and baseness, far infe-
rior to other parts: but, nevertheless, it doth fascinate, and
bind hand and foot those that are either shallow in judglnent or
weak in coura
e, ,vhich are the greatest part, yea, and prevaileth
with .wise men at ,veak times; therefore we see it hath done
wonders in popular States, but with senates and princes less-
and more, ever upon the first entrance of bold persons into
action, than soon after; for boldness is an ill keeper of IJromise.
Surely, as there are mountebanks for the natural body, so there
are mountebanks for the politic 2 Body-nlen that undertake
great cures, and perhaps have been lucky in two or three ex-
periments, but want the grounds of science, and therefore cannot
hold out. Nay, you shall see a bold fello,v many times do
1\Iahomet's miracle. J\Iahonlet made the people believe that he
would call a hill to him, and from the top of it offer up his
prayers for the observers of his law. The people assembled:
ß1ahomet called the hill to come to him again and again;
and when the hill stood still, he ,vas lle'
er a 'whit S abashed, but

I Pluto Vito Demosth. 17, 18. ' Politic. Political; civil. .
3 'Vhit. The least degree; the smallesf pa'rticle. 'Kot a 'lvlât behind the very
chief est Apostles.'-2 Cor. xi. 5.

E .. ]

ay Xll.

Anllo/at ions.

10 5

said, ' If the hill will not come to 1\1 ahomet, ì\Iahomct win go
to the hill.' So thcse mCll, when they have promised great
nlatters, and failed Blost
hamefully, yet, if they have the pcr-
fectioll of boldness, they \\ ill but slight it over" and make a
turn, and no more ado. 2 Certainly, to men of grcat judgment,
bold pcrson:s are sport to behold-nay, and to the yulgar also
boldness hath sOllIen-hat of the ridiculous: for if absurdity be
the subject of laughter, doubt you not hut great bolùlless is
scldom without some absurdity; especially it is a sport to see
"hcn a bold fello,v is out of countenance, for that puts his face
into a Dlost shrunkcn and woodcn posture, as needs it must-
for in bashfulness the spirits do a little go and corne-but with
bold men, upon like occasion, they stand at a stay {' like a stale
at chess, where it is no mate, hut yet the game cannot stir; but
this last" cre fitter for a satire than for a serious observation.
This is well to be "eighed, that boldness is e,-er blind, for it
seeth Hot dangcJ's and inconveniences: therefore it is ill in
coun
cl, good in execution; so that the right use of hold persons
is, that they never command in chief, but be seconds, and under
the direction of othcrs; for in counsel it is good to see dangers,
and in exccution not to see them, except they be very great.

AXXOTATIOXS.

, Boldness is a child of ignorance and baseness far inferior to
other parts.'
Baeon seems to have had that oyer-estimate of those who
are called the' prudent' which is rather COlUffion. One cause
of the
upposed superiority of wisdom often attributed to the
0\ er-cautious, reserved, non-confiding, non-enterprising cha-
racters, as cOlllparcd ,,-ith the lllOl'è opcn, free-spoken, acti,'e,

1 Slight over. To treat carelessly.
, His death, and your deliverance,
""'ere tl1emes that ought not to be sliglded over.'-IJryden.
2 Ado. c )Iuch ado about nothing.'-Shakespere.
3
ta)'. Staud; cessation qf progression.
, Never to decay
Luti! his revolution was at slay.'-JIillon.

J06

OJ Boldness.

[Essay xii.

and daring, is the tendency to over-rate the amount of what is
distinctly known. The bold and enterprising are likely to meet
,vith a greater number of tangIble failures tlJan the over-cautious:
and yet if you take a hundred average men of each description,
)'"ou will find that the bold have had, on the .whole, a more
successful career. But the failures-that is, the non-success-
of the over-cautious, cannot be so distinctly traced. Such a
man only misses the advantages-often very great-which bold.
ness and free-speaking might haye gained. He who always
goes on foot will never meet with a fall from a horse, or be
stopped on a journey by a restiye horse; but he who rides,
though exposed to these accidents, ,vin in the end, have ac-
complished more journeys than the other. He ,vho lets his
land lie fallo\v, 'will have incurred no losses from bad harvests;
but he ,,,ill not have made so much of his land as if he had
ventured to encounter such risks.
The kind of boldness ,vhich is most to be deprecated-or at
least as much so as the boldness of ignorance-is, daring, unac-
companied by firmness and steadiness of endurance. Such ,,-as
that which Tacitus attributes to the Gauls and Britons: ( Eadem
in deposcendis periculis audacia; eaden1 in detrectandis, ubi
advenerint formido. J1 This character seems to belong to those
,vho have-in phrenological language-Hope, and Combativeness,
large, and Firnnu!ss small.

1 The same daring in rushing into dangers, and the same timidity in shrinking
from them when they come.

ESSA Y XIII. OF GOODNESS, AKD GOODXESS
OF NATURE.

I T.AI{E goodness in this scnse,-the affecting l of the weal
of n1en, which is that the Grecians call Philanthropia;
and the word humanity, as it is used, is a little too light to
e
press it. Goodncss I call the habit, and goodness of nature
the inclination. This, of all virtues and dignities of the mind,
is the greatest, being the character of the Deity; and without
it, man is a busy, nlischievous, wretehed thing, no bettcr than
a kind of vcrmin. Goodness answcrs to the the010gical virtue,
Charity, and admits no excess hut error. The desire of power
in excess caused the angcls to fall-the desire of knnwledge in
exccss causcd )Iau to fall; but in charity there is no excess,
neither can angel or 1\Ian come ill dangcr by it. The inclina-
tion to goodness is imprinted deeply in the nature of
ran;
insomuch, that if it issue not towards men, it will take unto
othcr living creatures; as it is seen in the Turks, a cruel people,
who, nevertheless, are kind to beasts, give alms to dogs and
hirds; inson1uch as Busbechius
reporteth, a christian boy in
Constantinople had like to hayc been stoned for gagging, in a
,vaggishness, a long-billed fowl. Errors, indeed, in this virtue,
in goodness or charity, n1ay be con1n1itted. The Italians have of
it an ungracious proverb, ('fallto buon che val niente,'3 and one
of the doctors of Italy, Kicholas
Iachia"el, had the confidence to
put in writing, almost in plain terms, 'That the christian faith
had given np good nl(
n in prey to those ",-ho are tyrannical and
unjust:' which he spake, because, indeed, there .was never law,
or sect, or opinion, did so much magnify goodncss as the
christian religion doth; therefore, to a,.oid the scandal, and the
danger both, it is good to take kliowledge 4 of the errors of a
habit so excellent. Scek the good of other men, but be not III

1 A ffccting. TIle being desirous of; aiming at. Sce page I.
2 Bu.sbechiu
. A learncù ,Fleming of the I 6th centur
., in his Trarels ill the
East.
3 (So good that he is good for nothing.'
4 Take knowledge of. Take co
qni;:ance cif. 'They took Knowledge cifthem, that
the
' lmd been with Je.ms.'-Acts iv. 13.

108

OJ Goodness, and Goodness of Þlature.

[Essay xiii.

bondage to their faces or fancics; for that is but facility or
softness, which taketh an honest mind prisoner. Neither gi\Te
thou
Esop's cock a gem, \vho \vould be better plea
ed and
happier if he had a barley -corn. The example of God teacheth
the lesson truly: (He sendeth his rain, and makcth his sun to
shine upon the just and the unjust;' but he doth not rain wealth
nor shine honour and virtues upon men equally: comlllon benefits
are to be comnlunicated "ith all, but peculiar benefits with
choice. And beware how in lllaking the portraiture thou
breakest the pattern; for divinity rnaketh the love of ourselves
the pattern-the love of our neighbours but the portraiture:
, Sell all thou hast, and give it to the poor, and follow me;' but
sell not all thou hast, except thou come and follow me-that is,
except thou have a vocation i ,,-hcrein thou mayest do as nluch
good with little means as ,vith great-for otherwise, in feeding
the streams thou driest the fountain.
N either is there only a habit of goodness directed by right
reason; but there is in some men, even in nature, a disposi-
tion towards it, as, on the other side, there is a natural
malignity; for there be that in their nature do not affect
the good of others. The lighter sort of malignity turlleth
but to a crossncss, or frowardness, or aptness to oppose, or
difficileness/ or the like; but the deeper sort to envy, and
n1ere nlischief. Such lTIen, in other n1en's calamities, are, as
it were, in season, and are ever on the loadillg 3 part-not
so good as the dogs that licked Lazarus' sores, but like flies
that are still buzzing upon anything that is ra-w-n1Ïsanthropi
[men-haters], that make it their practice to bring men to the
bough, and yet ne\er have a tree for the purpose in their
gardens, as Timon 4 had: such dispositions are the very errors of
human nature, and )Tet they are the fittest tinlber to make great
politics" of-like to knee timber,6 that is good for ships that are
ordaincd to be tossed, but not for building houses that shall
stand firm. '

) Vocation. See page 19.
2 Difficileness. Difficulty to be per.<:;uaded. 'The Cardinal, finding the Pope
dijficile in granting the dispensation/-Bacon, Henry VII.
3 Loadiug. Loadert; burdened.
4
ec an account of Timon in Plutarch's Life qf .JIarc Antony.
:; Pol tics. Politicians. See page 20.
6 Knee-timber. A limber cut in tlte sltape cif tlle knee when bent.

Essay xiii.]

Anllotations.

10 9

The pnrts and
igns of goodn
ss arc man
". If a n13Jl be
gracious and courtcous to strangcrs, it shows he i
a citizën
of the world, and that his heart is no island cut off from
othcr lands, but a continent that joins to thenl,-if he he com-
passionate towards the atflictions of others, it
hOW8 that his
heart is like thc noble trcc that is wounded it
elf WhCll it gi,'es
the hahll,-if he easily parùons and remits offcilces, it shows
that his Inilld i
planted abo,'e injuries, so th3.t he cannot be shot,
-if he be thankful for s1l1all henefits, it shows that he weighs
IDf'n'S minds, and not their trash; hut, aho,'e all, if he havc St.
Paul's perfection, that he would wish to be an anathelna from
Christ/ for the salvation of his brcthren, it shows llluch of a
divine nature, and a kind of confol'nlÎty ,,'ith Christ himself.

AKKOT.A.TIOKS.

( Goodness admits no excess, but error.'

Bacon is speaking of what is now called benevülcnce and
bcnefic(,llce; and his l'enlal'k is very just, that it adn1Ìts of no
excess in quantity, though it may be misdirccted and erroneous.
For if your liùera1ity he such as to reduce your family to
poverty, or-like the killing of the hen that laid the golden
cggs-:such as to put it out of your power hereafter to he
liberal at all; or if it be bestowed on the undeser, ing; this is
rather to he accounted an unwise and misdirected benevolence
than an excess of it in quantity. And ,ve have here a remark-
able instance of the necessity of keeping the ,vhole character
alJd conduct, even our Inost anlÏable propensities, under thc
control of right principle guided by reason; and of taking pains
to wulerstand the subject relating to each duty you are called
on to perform. For there is perhaps no one quality that can
produce a greater anloullt of nlÍschicf than ll1ay he done by
thoughtlcs
good-nature. For instance, if anyone out of
tenderness of heart and reluctance to pUllish or to discard the
criminal and worthless, lcts loose on society, or advance
to
important offices, mischie,-ous characters, he will haye conferred

1 Romans ix. 3.

110 Of Goodness, and Goodness of }{ature. [Essay xiii.

a doubtful benefit 011 a few, and done incalculable hurt to
thousands. So also, to take one of the commonest and most
obvious cases, t.hat of charity to the poor,- a man of great
wealt h, by freely relieving all idle yagabonds, might go far
to-wards ruining the industry, and the n10rality, and the pros-
perity, of a whole nation. (For there can be no doubt that
careless, indiscriminate alms-giving does far Inore harm than
good; since it encourages idleness and inlproyidence, and also
imposture. If you gi,'e fi'eely to ragged and filthy street
beggars, you are in fact hiring people to dress thenlsel\'es in filthy
rags, and go about begging with fictitious tales of distress. If,
on the contrary, you carefully inquire for, and relieve, honest
anrl industrious persons who have fallen into distress through
unavoidable n1Ïsfortune, you are not only doing good to those
objects, but also holding out an encouragenlent generally to
honest industry.
, You may, however, meet with persons who say, 'as long as
it is my intention to relieve real dish
e
s, my charity is
equally virtuous, though the tale told Ine may be a false one.
The impostor alone is to be blamed who told it n1e; I acted on
,vhat he said; and if that is untrue, the fault is his, and not
mine.'
'Now this is a fair plea, if anyone is deceived after making
careful inquiry: but if he has not taken the trouble to do this,
regarding it as no concern of his, you might ask him ho,v he
would act and judge in a case where he is thoroughly in earnest
-that is, where his own interest is concerned. SUI)pOse he
employed a steward or other agent, to buy for him a house, or
a horse, or any other article, and this agent paid an exorbitant
price for what was really ,vorth little or nuthing, giving just
the same kind of excuse for allo,"'ing his employer to be thus
cheated; saying, 'I made no careful inquiries, but took the
seller's wo'rd; and his being a liar and a cheat, is his fault, and
110t mine j' the employer would doubtless reply, (The seller
indeed is to be condemned for cheating; but so are you, for
your carelessness of my interests. IIis being greatly in fault
does not clear you; and your merely intending to do ,,
hat was
right, is no excuse for your I)Ot taking pains to gain right in-
formation.'
'Now on such a IJrinciple .we ought to act in our charities:

Es..;ay Àiii.]

An notal iOlls.

III

regarding ourselves as stewarils of all that ProVIdence has be-
8to" ed, and as bound to expend it in the best way possible, and
not
heltcr our 0\\ 11 faultr ncgligcncc undcr the mi:;conduct of
alloth
r.' J
It is now generally acknowledged that rc1ief afforded to want, as
mere want, tends to increase that want; while the relief afforded
to the
ick, the infifln, and the disabled, has plainly no ten-
dency to lllUltiply its own objects. Now it is remarkable, that
the Lord Jesus elnployed his n1Íraculous power in healing
the sick continually, but in feeding the hungry only twice; while
the power of multiplying food which lIe then nlanifested, as
well as his dirccting the disciples to take care and gathcr up
the fragments that relnained that nothing might be lost, served
to mark that the abstaining from any like procedure on other
occasions was deliberate design. In this, besides other objects,
our Lord had probably in view to afford us some instruction,
from his exalurlc, as to the modc of our charity. Certain it is-,
that the reasons for this distinction are now-, and ever must be,
the saIne as at that time. N ow to those engaged in that im-
portant and inexhaustible subject of inquiry, the internal evi-
dences of Christianity, it will be interesting to observe hcre, one
of the instances ill which the super-human wisdom of Jesus fore-
stalled the discovery of au Ï1nportant principle, often overlooked,
not only by the generality of men, hut by the most experienced
statesmen and the ablest philosophers, eyen in these later ages
of e"\tcnded hUluan knowledge, and development of mental power.

, It is good to take knowledge of (he er'ì'ors of a habit so
excellent.'
As there are errors ill its direction, so there are mistakes
concerning its nature. For instance, some persons have a cer-
tain nervous horror at the sight of bodily pain, or death, or
blood, which they and others mistake for benevolence; which
mayor may not accompany it. Phrenologists have been derided
for attributing large destructiveness (which, however, is not in-
consistent with lal'ge benevolence, tbough more prominently
remarkable when not so combined) to a person who had neyer
killed anything but a flea, or to one who could not bear to

1 See Introducior!l Lessons on Morals, Lesson 1.vi. p. 139.

1 12 Of Goodness, and Goodness of J.lature. [Essay xiii.

crush a wasp or fly that was keeping him a,val\:e all night; as if
they had meant' the organ of killing.' And yet such a person
would, according to their own accounts of their o\vn systenl,
bear out their sentence.J if he was harsh in admonishing or re-
buking.J bitter in resentment, tran1pling without pity on the
feelings and the claims of others, &c.
\tVe should not confound together l)hysical delicacy of nerves,
and .extreme tenderness of heart and benevolence and gentle-
ness of character. It is also important to guard against mis-
taking for good nature, what is properly good ll'llinollr-a cheer-
ful flo,v of spirits, and easy temper not readily annoyed, which
is compatible with great selfishness.
I t is curious to observe ho,v people who are always thinking
of their o"rn pleasure or interest, ,,-ill often, if possessing con-
siderable ability, make others giye way to thein, and obtain
eyerything they seek, except llappiness. For, like a spoiled
child, ,vho at length cries for the moon, they are always dissa-
tisfied. And the benevolent, ,vho are always thinking of others.J
and sacrificing their own personal gratifications, are usually the
happiest of mankind.

, The 'lurks, a c'ruel people, are nevertheless kind to beasts.'
Bacon here slightly hints at a truth most important to be
kept in mind, that a considerable endown1ent of natural bencvo-
lence is not incompatible with cruelty; and that, consequently,
we must neither infer absence of all benevolence from such con-
duct as "Tould be called ferocious, or (ill-natured,' nor again
calculate, from the existence of a certain amount of good nature,
on a man's never doing anything cruet
When Thurtell, the murderer.J ,,-as executed, there was a
shout of derision raised against the phrenologists for saying that
his organ of benevolence ,,-as large. But they replied.J that
there .was also large destructiveness and a moral deficiency,
which would account for a man goaded to rage (by haying been
cheated of almost all he had by the man he killed) comn1Ïtting
that act. It is a remarkable confirmation of their yiew, that a
gentleman ,,-ho visited the prison where Thnrtell was confined
(shortly after the execution) found the jailol's, &c., full of pity
and affection for bÍln. They said he was a kind, good-hearted

Essay xiii.]

Annotations.

113

fellow, so obliging and friendly, that they had ncycr had a pI i-
"'oner whom they so 1nuch regretted. And such
eems to hayc
been his general character, when not influenced at once by the
desire of revenge and of gain.
Again, there shall be, perhaps, a man of considerahle be11e'"O-
lence, but so fond of a joke that he 'will not be restrained b
F
any tenderness for the feelings of othcrs-

'Dum modo risum
, Excutiat sibi non hie cui quam parcit amico.' 1

And he may be, perhaps, also so sensitiye hilnself as to bc
enraged at any censure or ridicule directed against hitnself; and
also so cnyious as to be very spiteful against those whom he
find:5 in any .way adyanced beyond him. Yet this saUle TIlan
may, perhaps, be very kind to his friends and his poor neigh-
bours, as long as they are not ri ,"als ancl do not at all affront him,
nor afford any food for his insatiable lo\?e of ridicule.
.A. benevolent disposition is, no doubt, a great help towards a
course of unifornl practical benevolence; but let no one trust to
it, when there are other strong propensities, and no firlH good
princi pIc.

1 So }le C:ln but have his joke, he "ill spare no friend.

ESSAY XIV. OF
OBILITY.

ITE will speak of nobility first as a portion of an estate,t
V, then as a condition of particular persons. A monarcllY
,,'here there is no nobility at all, is eyer a pure and absolute
tyranny, as that of the Turks; for nobility attcmpers sovereignty,
and draws the eyes of the people somewhat aside from the line
royal: but for democracies, they need it not, and they are COIll-
In only more quiet, and less subject to sedition than where there
are stir ps 2 of nobles-for ll1en's eyes are upon the business, and
not upon the persons; or, if upon the persons, it is for the
business' sake, as fittest, and not for flags and pedigree. "T e
see the Svátzers last ,yell, notwithstanding their diyersity of
religion and of cantons; for utility is their bond, and not
l'espects. 3 The United Provinces of the Lo,v Countries in their
goyernment excel; for 'where there is an equality, the consulta-
tions are more indifferent/ and the paYlnents and tributes more
cheerful. A great and potent nobility addeth majesty to a
lllonarch, but diminisheth power; and putteth life and spirit
into the people, but prcsseth their fortune. It is ,veIl ,,-hen
nobles are not too great for sovereignty, nor for j 1 1stice; and
yet ]naintained in that height, as the insolency5 of inferiors may
be broken upon thelll before it come on too fast upon the
}najesty of kings. A numerous nobility causeth po,yerty and
inCOllyenience in a State, for it is a surcharge of expense; and
besides, it being of necessity that n1any of the nobility fall in
tÍ1ne to be weak in fortune, it maketh a kind of disproportion
behveen honour and means.
As for nobility in particular persons, it is a reverend thing
to see an ancient castle or building not in decay, or to see a
fair timber tree sound and perfect; ho,v much more to behold
an ancient noble falllily, 'which hath stood against the '\YRYCS

1 Estate. State; a political body; a commonu'ealth.
'The estate is green and yet ungoverned.' -Shakespe'J'e.
2 Stirps. Race; family. 'Sundry nations got footing on that land, of the
which there yet remain divers great filluilics and stirps/-Spenser.
3 Respects. Personal considerations. See page 89'
4 Indifferent. Impartial. See page 60.
5 lnsolency. Insolence. 'The iJ'l.8olencies of traitors, and the violences of rebels.'
-Bishop Taylor.

E
say XiLJ

Of l\T o !Jilit!/.

115

and "cathers of titne I-for new nobility is but the act of power,
but ancient nobility is the act of tÎlne. Those that are first
raised to nobility, are commonly more virtuous, but less inno-
cent, than thcir desccndants-for there is rarely any rising but
by a conunixture of good and evil arts,-but it is I'cason l the
menlory of their virtues remain to their posterity, and their
faults die with thelnbelves. Nobility of birth commonlyabateth
industry; aud he that is not industrious, envieth him that is:
hesides, noble persons cannot go Inuch higher; and he that
standcth at a stay2 when others rise, can hardly avoid nlotions 3
of envy. On the other side, nobility extinguisheth the passive
cnyy fronl others towards thcIn, because they are in possession
of honour. Certainly, kings that have able men of their nobility
shall fiud ease in employing theIn, and a better slide into their
business; for people naturally bcnd to them as born in some
sort to con1mand.

AXTITHET..1 OX XOBILITY.

rUO.
:I: :I: :I: :I:
, Xobilitas laure3, qua tempus homines
coronat.
, High ðirt/t is the 'lcreath with u.:hich
men are crolcned by iime/

'Antiqnitatem ctÍ'1m in monumentis
veneramur: quanto magis in vivis ?
, Jre reverence antiquity even in life-
less monuments; how milch more in lil"ing
Olles I'
:I: :I: "" :I:
, Xobilitas virtutem invicliæ subducit,
!!'ratiæ tradit.
, SoUli,!! u
it1ldrall"8 viduefi'oJ1l enl.',!/,
a'ld COllll1lends it to farOllr.'

C05TRA.
, TIaro ex virtute 110bilitas: rarius ex
nobilitate virtns.
'

obilit.1J has seldom sprung from
'L'idue: ârtue still 'Jnore rra,'ely froln
nobility.'

, N obiles majorum dcprec:ltione, aeI
veniam, sê:
pius utuntur, quam suffra-
gatione, ad honores.

Pel"SOIIS of high birth oftener resort
to their alwestors as a means of escapi1lg
punishment tllaì
as a recoymnellllation
to higll post:?'

, Tanta s01et esse illdtBtria homillmn
nOYOrUill, ut nobiles præ il1is tallquam
statnæ ,.idcantur.
, Sucll is the activity of upstarts that
men of high bidl" seem statues i,l COIJl-
parison.'

, X obiles in stadio re:o;pectant nimis
sæpe; quod mali cursoris e
t.
'I,l running their race, men of birtlt
look back too qften, 'll,'ltich is tlle mark
of a bad I.unner.'

,
eagon. Rea.yonable; right. See page 87'

. Check; cessation of progress. See p:1gc 10 5.
3
[otlOns. Inter,wl action; feelings; impulses. 'The motio1ls of Sill, which
were bJ the h1 w .' - Ro OWIlS vii. 5.

I 2

116

Of .L\Tobility.

[Essay xiv.

A1\NOTATIOXS.

, TTTe 1vill speak of nobility first as a portion of an estate.'

In reference to nobility as an institution, it is inlportant to
renlark ho,v great a differcnce it makes ,yhether the Order of
nobles shall include-as in Gern1any and most other countries
-all the descendants of noblc falnilies, or, as in ours, only the
eldest; the rest sinking down into commoncrs. rl'he forlner
system is very bad, dividing society into distinct castes, almost
like those of the Hindus. Our system, through the numerous
younger branches of noble families, sltades oJ!: as it "'ere, the
distinction between nohle and not-noble, and keeps up the
continuity of the whole fran1e.

, As for nobility in particular persons.'

In reference to nobility in individuals, nothing was e,.cr
better said than by Bishop "r arb urton-as is reported -in the
House of Lords, on the occasion of some angry dispute ,yhich
had arisen between a peer of no ble family and one of a ne,v
creation. lIe said that 'high birth ,vas a thing" hich he never
knew. anyone disparage, except those who Lad it not; and he
never kne'v anyone make a boast of it who had anything else to
be proud of.'
"'his is ,vorthy of a place among Bacon's' Pros
and Cons,' though standing half-way behveen the two: 'N obili-
tatem nen10 conten1nit, nisi cui abest; nemo jactitat, nisi cui
nihil aliud est quo glorietur.'
It is a remarkable circumstance that noble birth is regarded
very much according to the etymology of the 'YOI'd, from
, nosco:' for, a man's descent froln anyone "rho ,ras much
knozvn, is much more thought of than the moral worth of his
ancestors. And it is curious that a person of so exceptionable
a character that no one would like to have had him for a fatlter,
may confer a kind of dignity on his great-great-great-grand-
children. An instance has been known of persons, who 'were
the descendants of a celebrated and prominent character in the

ay AiL]

Annotations.

I 17

Ci,-il ".. ar, and who" as onc of the Regicides, bcing themseIve8
rOJaiists, and professing to be a
hanlcd of thcir ancestor. ...\.11d
it i
likely that if he ,verc now living, they ,vouid renounce all
intercour::;e with him. Y ct it may be doubted w hcthcr they
"ou]d not feel 1110rtified if anyone !Should prove to them that
thpy had bccn under a nlistake, and that they were ill l'cality
de;:,cended fronl another person, a respectable but obscure indi-
vidual, not at all akin to the celebrated regicide.
I t was a rcnlark by a celebrated man, himself a gent1eman
born, but with nothing of nobility, that the difference between
a nlrlll with a lon
line of noble ancestors and au upstart, is
that' the one knows for certain, what the other only conjecture

as highly probable, that seyeral of his forefathers deserved
hanging.' Yet it is eCl'taiu.J though strange, that, generally
speaking, the supposed up8tart would rather haye this very
thing a certainty-proyided there were some gl'eat and celc-
hratcd e
ploit in question-than left to conjecture. If he
were to discover that he could trace up his descent distinctly
to a man who had deser,ycd hanging, for robbing-llot a tra-
yeller of his purse, but a king of his empire, or a neighbouring
State of a province,-he would be likely to make no secret of it,
and even to be better plcased, inwardly, than if he had made
out a long line of ancestors who had been yery honest farlners.
The happiest lot for a man, as far as birth is concerned, is
that it
hould be such a8 to giye him but little occasion eveì' to
tlÛJlk much about it j which will be the case, if it be neither too
high nor too low for his existing situation. Those who hayc
sunk much Lclo,v, or risen nluch aboye, what suits their birth,
are apt to be uneasy, and consequently touchy. The one feels
a
halned of his situation; the other of his ancestors and other
relatives. A nobleman's or gentleman's son, or grandson, feels
degraded by waiting at table, or behind a counter; and a
nlember of a libcral profession is apt to be ashamed of his
father's haying done so ; and both ar
apt to take offence l'eadily,
unlcss they are of a truly lllagl1alliulOuS character. It was
remarked by a celebrated l)erson, a man of a gentleman's family,
and hÍlnself a gentlen1an by station, 'I haye often thought that
if I ]1ad risen, like ..A. B., frolll the yery lowest of the people,
by my own honourable exertions, I should haye rather felt

118

Of 1,-r oó ilily.

[]
ssay xiv.

proud of so great a feat, than like him, sore and touchy; but I
suppose I 111 ust be mistaken; for I observe that the far greater
part of those who are so circumstanced, haye just the opposite
feeling.'
The characters, however, of true inward nobility are ashamed
of nothing but base conduct, and are not ready to take offence
at supposed afii'onts; because they keep clear of whateyer
deserves contempt} and consider ,vhat is llndeseryed as beneath
t heir notice.

ESSAY X\T. OF SEDITIOXS _A.KD TROUBLES.

S lIE PIIERDS of people had need know the calendars of
tenlpcst
ill State, which are comn10nly greatest when things
grow to equality, a
natural telupests about the equinoctia;1 and
as there arc certain hollow blasts of wind and secret swelling

of seas before a tempest, so are there in States:-

, Ille ctiam cæcos instare tumultus
Sæpe monet, fraudesque et operta tumescere bella.'2

Libels and licentious discourses against the State, when they
arc fi'cquent and open; ancl in like sort, false news often running
up and down to the disad\-antage of the State, and hastily e111-
braced, are amollgst the signs of troubles. Virgil, giving the
pcdigrep of fanle, saith, she ,vas sister to the giants :-

, Illam terra parens, ira irritata deorum,
E.xtremam (ut perhibcnt) Cæo Enceladoque sororem
Progenuit.'3

Af? if faInes 4 were the relics of seditions pa
t j but they are no
le

indced the preludes of seditions to come. Howsoever, he
noted it right, that seditious ttunults and seditious faIlles differ
no more but as brother and sister", Inasculine and fen1Ïnine-
especially if it come to that, that the best actions of a State,
and the most plausible,s and which ought to give greatest
contcntnlent, are taken in ill sense, and traduced; for that

hows the CllYY great, as 'I:'acitus
aith, , Conflata magna iuyidia,
seu bene, seu male, gesta premunt.'6 Xeither doth it follow,
that becau5e these fames are a sign of troubles, that the sup-
l)rc

illg of thenl with too much severity should be a remedy

] Equinoctia. Equi'lOxes.
i 'He often warns of dark fast-coming tumults, hiùùen fraud, and open warfare,
swelling proud.'- \
irgil, Georg. i. 4 6 5.
:i \ïrg. En. i\'". 179.
, Enraged against the GOù3, revengeful Earth
Produceù her, last of the Titauian birth.'-D/
dell.
4 Fames. llepurts; 'j"umours. 'Thefame thereof was hearù in Pharaoh's hou::,c.

a
-illg, Jo
eph's brethren are come.'-Genesis xh". 16.
,) Plausible. Laudable; desert"ing (1 applause. See page 79'
6
(h-eat ell\'
' being ð.cited, they condemn acts# whether good or bad.' (Quu
cd
prol>ahly from memol')".)-Tac. Ilist. i. 7"

]20

Of Seditions and Troubles.

[Essay X\P.

of troubles; 1 for the despising of theln n1any tilnes checks
them best, and the going about to stop them cloth but Inake a
,yonder long-Eyed. Also that kind of obedience, which Tacitus
speaketh of, is to be held suspected: 'Errant in officio, sed
tamen qui mallent n1andata Í1nperantium interpretari, quam
exequi j' 2 di
puting, excusillg, cavilling upon mandates and
directions, is a kind of shaking off the yoke, and assay3 of dis-
ohedience: especially if in those disputings they which are for
the direction speak fearfully and tenderly, and those that are
against it, audaciously.
Also, as
Iachiavel noteth well, .when princes, that ought to
be cOll1n10n 4 parents, n1ake thelnselves as a party, and lean to a
side, that is, as a boat that is overthro,vn by uneven weight on the
one side-as ,vas well seen in the time of I-Ienry III. of France;
for, fir8t hinlself entered league for the extirpation of the Pro-
testants, and presently after the same league was turned upon
himself; for when the authority of princes is made hut an ac-
cessory to a cause, and that there be other bands that tie faster
than the band of sovereignty, kings begin to be put aln10st out
of possession.
Also, .when discords, and quarrels, and factions, are cal'ried
openly and audaciously; it is a sign the reverence of govern-
Inent is lost; for the motions of the greatest persons in a
government ought to be as the motions of the planets under
jJriJJlllJ/l 1I1obile 5 (according to the old opinion), "hich is, that
eycry of them 6 is carried swiftly hr the highest Itlotion, and
softly in their o-wn motion; and, therefore, whell great ones in
their o,,-n particular motion lllove yiolcntly, and, as Tacitus cx-
presseth it "Tell, 'Liberius quam ut inlperantium meminissent'i-

1 There is a law ill our Statute nook agalnst
Shmderom. Reports flUd Tales to
cause Discord between King anù Peoplp.'-Anno 5 Edward I., JVestmÙl.ster
PI'hller, c. xxxi.
2 They were in attendance on their duties,
'et preferred puttÏ11g their own l
()n-
struction on the commands of their rulers to executing them.'-Tacit. Hist. i. 39.
a Assay. Tile fi/j'st attempt, or taste, b.l/ 'way of trial.

For well he weeued that so glorious bait
'Vould telIJpt his guest to make thereof assay.'-Spenser.
4 Common. Serz.-ing for all.
The Book of Common Pra) er.'
5 Primum moùile, in the astronomic'allanguage of Bacon's time, meant a body
drawing all others into its own sphere.
fj E\Tery of them. Eacl1, oftliem; eve",!! one of tltem. ' And it came to l>ass in
every of them.'-A.pocrypha, 2 Esùras iii. 10.
i
)Iorc freely than is consistent witIJ remembering the rulpl"s.'

E::;
ay :\. v.J

OJ Seditiú/lS and Trouóles.

121

it i
a sign thc orhs are out of framc; for rcvcrcnce is that
whcre" ith princes arc girt fruln God, who thrcatcncth the dis-
::;oh'illg thcreof; 'Solvalll cingula l'egurn. Jl
So whcn any of the four pillars of goycrnmcnt are mainly

haken, or weakcned (which are religion, ju
tice, counsel, and
treasure), men had Heell to pray for fair weather. But let us
pa
s îrOln thi::; part of predictions (concerning which, ne,'Cl'-
thelc::,::;, more light nlay be takcn from that which followeth),
anc1lct us speak first of the materials of seditions, then of the
1110tivcs of thcIu, and thirdly of the remedies.
Concerning the luaterials of seditions, it is a thing well to be
considcrcd-for the surest way to prey.ent seditions (if the tÍlnes
do Lear it), i
to take away the matter of them; for if thcre
be fuel prepared, it is hard to t
ll whence the spark shall
come that shall set it Oll fire. The matter of seditions is of
two kinds, much poverty, and luuch discontellhnellt. It is cer-
tain,
o Inany overthrown estates, so many votes for troublcs.
Lucan lloteth well the state of Roule before the ci ,'il war:-

, lIinc usura vorax, rapidumque in tempore fænus,
Hinc COllcussa fides, et multis utile bellUlll.'2
This same 'multis utile ùellum,' is an assured and infallible
sign of a State disposed to seditions and troubles; aud if this
poycrty and broken estate 3 in the bctter sort be joined with a
want and neccs
ty in the Inean pcople, the danger is in1minent
and grcat-for the rebellious of the belly are the worst. ..'\.s
for discontentments, they are in the politic bodr like to hunlours
in the natural, "hich are apt to gather a preternatural heat, and
to Illflatne; and let no prince measure the danger of them by
thi
, whethcr thcy be just or unjust-for that .were to imagine
people to ùe too reasonable, who do often spurn at their 0" 11
good,-nor yet by this, whether the gricf
" whereupon they rise
he in fact great or sluall; for they arc the mO:3t dangerous dis-
contentments, where the fear is greater than the feeling:

J 'I will loose tl1e bond of kiJlg",.'-Job xii. 18.

'lIenee usur
' voracious, anù eager fur the time of interest; hcnce broken faith,
and war ùc\'ome llieful to many.'-Lucall, Phars. i. 18!.
3 Estate. Condition; circumslallces. ' ...:\11 who are an). ways afllicted or d
s-
tre:-
eJ in minù, body, or eslate.'-E'lglish Lilurg!l (P/"ayer fo/" all Conditions of
.1[PII).
f Oricfs. Grietoanceso
, The king h:lth sent to know the r..atnre of y
ur griefs.'-Sltalæ.vpcre.

122

Of Seditions and Troubles.

[Essay xv.

'Dolendi modus, tin1endi non itemH-besides, in great oppres-
sions, the same things that provoke the patience do \\rithal
mate 2 the courage; hut in fears it is not so-neither let any
prince, or State, be secure concerning discontentments, because
they have been often, or have been long, and yet no peril hath
ensued-for as it is true that
very vapour or fume 3 doth not
turn into a storm, so it is nevertheless true, that storln8, though
they hlo,v over divers tin1es, yet n1ay fall at last; and, as the
Spanish proverb noteth ,veIl, 'The cord breaketh at the last by
the weakest pull.'
The causes and motives of seditions are, innovations in re-
ligion, taxes, alteration of laws and custon1s, breaking of privi-
leges, general oppression, advancement of unworthy persons,
strangers, deaths, disbanded soldiers, L'1ctions gro,vn desperate;
and whatsoever in offending people joineth and knitteth thenl
In a comn10n cause.
For the remedies, there may be some general preservatiyes,
,vhereof .we ,,-ill speak: as for the just cure, it must answer to
the particular disease, and so bc left to counsel rather than rule.
The first remedy or prevention, is to remove, by all means
possible, that material cause of sedition whereof we speak, which
is, ,vant and poverty in the estate: 4 to which purpose serveth
the opening and well-baiancing of trade; the cherishing of
manufacturcs; the banishing of idleness; the repressing of
"Taste and excess by sumptuary laws; the in1provement and
husbanding of the soil: the regulating of prices of things yen-
dible; the' lTIoderating of taxes and tributes; and the like.
GC'uerally, it is to be foreseen that the population of a kingdoll1
(especially if it he not mown dO"wn by '''aI's), do not exceed the
stock of the kingdom which should lTIaintain them: neither is
the population to be reckoned only by number, for a smaller
nU111ber, that spend more and earn less, do wear out an estate
sooner than a greater number that live low and gather nlore :
therefore the n1ultiplying of nobility, and other degrees of
quality,s in an over-proportion to the COlTIlllOn IJeople, doth

1 There is a limit to the suffering, but none to the apprehension.
2
late. To s'llLd'lle; to quell. See page 13"
3 .Fl1nw. An exlwlation.
'That memory, the warden of the hrain, shall be fifume.'-Shakel
pere.
4 E:;tate. Slale. See page I 14.
;; (
ualit
.. Persul1s of s'll]Je'J"Ï01' 'rm,!c. 'I will arpem. at the m:
squerade ùresbcJ

E:-ìsay :\ ,'.J

Of Seditioll,l? and Troubles.

12 3

speedily bring a State to necessity; and so doth likewise all
overgrown clcrgy, for thcy bring nothing to the :stock; and
in like InanneI', when nlore are bred
cholars than prefcnllent:s
can take off.
It is likewise to be rcmembercd, that, forasll1uch as the in-
cI'casc of any estate must be upon the forcigncr (for ".hatsoever
is
onlewhere gotten, is sOlnewhere lost), thcre be but three
things whieh one nation
elleth unto another-the commodity
as nature yieldeth it, the manufacture, and the vecture, or car-
riage: so that, if these three wheels go, wealth will flo". as in
a spring tide. .And it conleth many times to pass, that 'n1ate-
l'ialn superabit opus' -that 'the work and carriage is ,vorth
lnore than the material,' and enricheth a State more; as is
notably :seen in the Low Countrymen, who have the bcst mines
ahove ground in the world.
.j\..bove all things, good policy is to be used, that the treasures
and monies in a state he not gathered into few hands-for
otherwise, a state may haye a great stock, and yet starv.e; and
money is like muck, not good except it be spread. This is
done chiefly by suppre
sing, or, at the lcast, keeping a strait
hand upon the devouring trades of usury, engrossing I great pas-
turages and the like.

-'or rcmoving discontentments, or, at least, the danger of
then1, thcr(' is in every State (as we know), two portions of

uhjccts, the n01Jlcs and the commonalty. 'Yhen one of these
is discontent, the danger is not great; for common people are
of slow luotiol1, if they be not eÅeited by the greater sort; and
the' gl'cater sort are of small strength, except the multitude be
apt and rcady to move of themseh-es: then is the danger, when
the greatcr sort do but wait for the troubling of the ,vaters

in my feathers, that the qualify may
ec how prett)- the,)' will look in their travel-
ling hahits.'--Addison.
The common people still speak of the upper classes as ' the qualify.' It is to be
obsened that ahn
t all our titles of respect are terms deuoting qualities. ' Her

I:
est,).,' · his Highne
s,' 'his EAcellenc,)-,' 'his Grace,' 'the )Iost .Noble,' 'the
Honourable,' 'his Honour,' 'his 'V or:5hip.'
I Engrossing. F01.estalling. 'Engrossing was also described to be the getting
into one's po
::;cs.-:;ion, or buyinO' U P lar''''e q uantities of an" kind of victuals, with
. . 0 0 J
llltent to sell them again/-Blackstolle.
, "'hat should JC do, thcn,
hould yc suppress all this flowery crop of knowledge,
and new light S p runO' H I ) ? ðhould \"e sct an oliO'arch\" of twenty en g l.osSe1"8 over
. 0 . 0 01 .
it, to bring a famine up0n our m
nd
?'-JIiliulz.

12 4

Of Seditions and Troubles.

[Essay xv.

amongst the meaner, that thcn they may declare themselves. The
l)oets fcign that the rest of the gods ".ould have bound Jupiter,
,,-hich he hearing of, ùy the counsel of Pallas, sent for Briarens,
"Tith his hundred hands, to come in to his aid 1 -an elnblem, no
doubt, to sho,v hOlr safe it is for monarchs to make sure of the
good- 'will of common people.
To give moderate liberty for griefs and discontentments to
evaporate (so it be \yithout too grcat illsolency or bravery2), is
a safe ,yay; for he that turneth the humours back, and makcth
the wound bleed illwards, endangereth malign ulcers and per-
nicious imposthumations.
The part of Epimetheus might "Tcll become ProlTIcthcus, in
the case of discontentments; for there is not a better provision
against them. Epinlethcus, ,,,hen griefs and evils flc,v abroad,
at last shut the lid, and kept hope in the bottom of the vessel.
Certainly, the politic and artificial nourishing and entertaining
of hopcs, and carrying nlen from hopes to hopes, is one of the
best antidotes against the poison of discontentments: and it is
a certain sign of a wise govcrnment and I)roceeding, when it
can hold men's hearts by hopes, when it cannot by satisfaction;
and ,,-hen it can handle things in such manner as no evil shall
appear so peremptory but that it hath SOlne outlet of hope-
,yhich is the lcss hard to do, because both particular persons
and factions al'e apt enough to flatter themselycs, or, at least, to
brave 3 that ,rhich they believe not.
Also thc foresight and prevention, that thcre be no likely or
fit head .whercupon discontented persons may resort, and under
"Thorn they may join, is a known, but an exceHent point of
caution. I understand a fit head to be one tbat hath greatness
and reputation, that hath confidence with the discontented party,
and upon whom they turn their ryes, and that is thought dis-
contented in his own particulal; which kind of persons are
either to be ,von and reconciled to the State, and that is a "fast
and true DIanneI', or to be fronted with some other of the same
party that ll1ay oppose them, and so divide the reputation.
Generally, the dividing and breaking of all factions and com-
binations that are adyerse to the State, and setting thcm at

! Hom. Il. i. 398.
J Brave. To búast of.

2 Bravery. See page 88.

Essay xv.]

Of Seditions and Troubles.

I ')..
-J

distancc/ or, at lcast, distrust an10ng themselves, is not onc of
the WOl':-ìt relnedics; for it is a desperate casc, if those that hold
with the proceeding of the State be full of di
cord and faction,
and those that are against it he entire and united.
I lut\Te noted, that some witty and sharp speeches, which
have fa!lcH frolll princes, havc given fire to seditions. Cæsar
did hilnsclf infinite hurt in that spcech, 'Sylla ne:5civit litcras,
non potuit dictare;12 for it did utterly cut off that hope which
lllcn had entertain cd , that he would at one time or other give
uvcr hi
dictatorship. Galba undid hiInsclf by that ::;pcech,
C Lcgi a se militcm, non cnlÍ ;'3 for it l)ut the soldiers out of
hope of thc donative. Probus) likewise, by that speech, 'Si
vixero, non opus erit amplius ROlllano imperio militihus ;'4 a
speech of great despair for the soldiers; and many the like.
Surcly princes had need, in tellùer matter and ticklish tin1es, to
beware what they say, cspecially ill thesc short speeches, which
fly abroad like darts, and are thought to bc shot out of their
secrct intentiuns; for, as for large discourses, they are flat things,
and not so 111 uch noted.
Lastly, let lu'illCCS, against all events, not be "rithout some
great person, one or rather more, of military valour, near unto
then"l, for the l'epressing of seditions in their beginnings; for,
without that, there useth to be n10re trepidation in court upon
the first breaking out of trouble than ,vere fit; and the State
rUllueth the danger of that ,vhich Tacitus saith-' Atque is
habitus animorum fuit, ut pessimlun facinus auderellt pauci,
plures vellcllt, omnes paterentur;''=; but let such n1Ílitary per-
sons be as
ured6 and ,yell reputed of, rather than factious and

1 Distance. Enmity.

'Banquo was your enemy,
So is he mine; alid in such bloody distance,
That every minute of his being thrusts
.Against my near'st of life.'-Sll,akespere.
2 '
Jlla was ignorant of letters, and could not dictate.' (This pun is attributed
tu Cæsar boY
net
mius.)-lït. C. Jul. Ces. 77, I.
3 , He levied soldiers, and did not buy them.' - Tac. Hisl. i. 5.
4 , If I li\'e, the Roman .Empire will need no more soldierò.'-Flav. Y cs. rite
Probe 20.
Ii 'Awl such wa
the state of their minds, that the worst villallY a few dared,
more apprO\'cd of it, and all tolerated it.'-Hist. i. 28.
6 Assured. S-ot to be doubted; trust-worth!!. 'It is an assured experience,
that tlillt laid at tbe root of a tree will make it prosper.'-l
acon's Yatural
llistory.

126

Of SeditioJls and Troubles.

[Es
ay xv.

popular-holding also good correspondence with tl1e other
great men in the State, or elsc the rcmedy is ,vorse than the
disease.

ANKOTATIOXS.

, J\Teither let any prince or State be secure concerning discontent-
'!ilents, because they have been often, orr have been long, and
yet no peril hath ensued. . . .'

l\Ien underrate the danger of any evil that has been escaped.
An eyil is not necessarily unreal, because it has been often
feared without just cause. r.I.'he ,,'olf does sometimes enter in,
and make havoc of the flock, though there have been many false
alarms. The consequence of feeling too secure, and not being
prepared, may be most disastrous when the emergency does
arise. The existence of the lJower to n1eet the emergency is
not the less iml)ortant because the occasions for the exercise of
it may be very few'. If anyone should be so ",.earied "ith the
monotonous 'All's 'well' of the nightly guardians of a camp,
hour after hour, and night after night, as to conclude that their
service was superfluouR, and, accordingly, to dismiss thcm, how
much rcal danger, and ho,v much unnecessary apprehension,
,,-ould be the result.

'Let no prince 'lileaszo"e (he danger of discO/1tenl1nents by tlds
. . . . .
vhetllel' the griefs whereupon they rise be g'J'eat or
slIlall. . . . . .'

The importance of this caution ,,'ith regard to 'sn1all griefs'
'will not be denied by anyone who has obseryed the odd
liulÌtations of power in those who seem despotic, and yet cannot
do ,vhat seem little things. E.g., ,vhen the Romans tool. posses-
sion of Egypt, the people submitted, without the least resistance,
to have their lives and property at the lllel'cy of a foreign
nation: but one of the Roman soldiers happening to kill a cat
in the streets of Alexandria, they rose on him and tore him
limb fron1 linlb; and the excitement "as so violent, that the
generals oycrlooked the outrage for fear of insurrection!-

]

say xv.]

Annotations.

12 7

Claudius Cæsar tried to introducc a lctter which wa
wanting
ill the ROlnall ...\.lphabet-thc COll
UHallt ,r a::; di
tinct from U J -
they having but one charactcr for both. lIe ordaincd that Æ
(an F rcvcrscd) should be that character. It appcars on sonle
in
criptions in his tinu:>; hut he could not establish it, though
he could lULL or plunder his ðltbjects at pleasure. So can the
Enlperor of ltussia; hut he cannot change the style. It would
c1ispïace the days of saints WhOlll his peol>le ,vorship, and it
would produce a formidable insnrl'cction! Othel' instances of
this strange kiu<.l of anolnaly lnight doubtless be produced.

, The callses lind motives of seditions are . . . .J

AU10ngst the cause
of scr1ition Bacon has not noticed what
i
, perhaps, the source of the 1110St dangerous kinds of sedition,
the keeping of a certain portion of the population in a state of
helotisnl,-a
subjects without being citizens, or only imperfectly
and partially citizens. For men will better submit to au
lllldistinguishing despotisnl that bears down all classcs alike,
than to an invidious distinction drawll betwecn privileged and

ubject classes.
On this point I ,viII take the libertJ1 of citing a passage fronl
a former work :-
'The exclusion froll1 the rights of citizenship of all except a
ccrtain favoured class-which was the systelll of the Grecian
and other ancicnt republics-has been vindicated by their
cxanlple, and recollnnended for general adoption, by some
writers, who haye proposed to make sameness of {religion cor-
respond in 1110dcrn States to the sameness of race among the
anciellts,-to substitute for their hereditary citizenship the
profession of Christianity in onc aud the
an1e !\Tational Church.
'But attentive and candid reflection will show that this
would he the WOl'3t po
sible imitation of one of the ,vorst of the
Pagan institutions; that it would ùe not only still In ore zlIavise
than the unwise exalnple proposed, hut also even Ulore opposite
to the spirit of the cllristiuli {religion thau to the maxims of
sound policy.
'Of the system itsclf, under various modifications, and of
its effects, under a variety of circumstances, we find abundant
records throughout a large portion of history, ancient aud

128

Of Seditions and T'rouúles.

[Essay XY.

modern; from that of tIle Israelites ,,-hen sojourners in Egypt,
down to that of the Turkish Empire and its Greek and other
christian subjects. And in those celebrated ancient republics
of which we have such copious accounts in the classic "\1Titers,
it is 'well known that a man's being born of free parents 'within
the territory of a certain State, hact nothing to do with confer-
ring civil rights; while his contributing towal'ds the exp('n
('s of
its government, "'as rather considered as the badge of an alien
(Matt. xvii. 25); the imI)osing of a tax on the citizens being
mentioned by Cicer0 1 as something calamitous and di
graceful,
and not to be thought of but in some extraordinary emergency.
, Nor .were the proportionate 'numbers at all taken into
account. In Attica, the nletæci or sojom'ners appear to haye
constituted about a third of the free population; but the Helots
in Lacedæmon, and the suhject
of the Carthaginian and
Roman Republics, outnumbered the citizens, in the IJroportion
probably of five, and sOInetimes of ten or twenty to one. N 01'
again 'were alien families considered as such in refcrcnce to a
more 'recent settlement in the territory j on the contrary, they
,,'ere often the ancient occupiers of the soil, ,,-ho llad beeu
subdued by another race; as the Siculi (from whonl Sicily
derived its nan1e), by the Siceliots or Greek colonists.
,rI'he systenl in question has been eXplained and justified on
the ground that distinctions of race inlplied important religious
and moral differences; suel), that the admixture of men thus
differing in the n1ain points of human life, "\youlr1 have tended}
unless one race had a complete ascenùancy, to confuse all
notions of right and '''rong. And the principle, accordingly,
of the ancient republics,-which has been thence con1nlended as
wise and good-has been represented as tliat of making agree-
lllent in l'eligion and n10rals the test of citizen:ship.
'That this ho,,-ever was not, at least in many instances,
even the professed principle, is undeniable. The Lacedæmo-
nians reduced to hclotism the l\Iessenians, 'who were of Doric
race, like themselves; "hile it appears from the best authorities,
that the kings of those very Lacedælllonians 'were of a different
race from the people, being not of Dorian, but of Achaian ex-
traction. rrhere could not havc becn therefore, at least univer-

1 De Off. b. I I, clI. xxi.

:t
say XY.]

Anllo/at iOIl,'?

12 9

any, any sl1ch total incompatibility betwecn thc moral institu-
tions and principles of the differcnt racc
. 'rile vindication,
thcrefore, of the systcnl uttcrly fails, even on the ycry grounds
as
ulncd by its aù ,'ocates.
'If, 110" cyer, ill any instances such an incompatibility diel
e
i
t, or (what i
f
lr n10re probable)
uch a mutual dislike and
jealousy, originating in a narro". spirit of clanship-as to render
apparently hopeless the complete an1algamation of t\, 0 tribes as
fellow -eitizeT1
on ('qual terms, the wise8t-the only wise--
cour
l' would have been an entire separation. 'Yhether the
one tribe Inigrated in a l1laSS to settle elsewhere, or the terri-
tory werc divided between the b\ 0, so as to form distinct inde-
pcndent t;tates,-in cither mode, it would have been better for
both parties, than that one shouhl remain tributary subjects
of the other. Eyeu the expulsion of the
Ioors and J eW8 froBl
Spain, was not, I am convinced, so gr
at an e,-il, as it ,yollld
have becn to retain theln a
a degraded and tributary cIa;:,;:,;
lilf' th(' G--red
suhjcct
of the Turki:...h cmpirc.
'}-'Ol', if th('rf' he anyone truth which the deductions of
rea
Oll alone, independent of history, would lead us to antici-
pate, and which again history alone would establish iudepen-
dently of antccedent reasoning, it is thi
: that a whole cIa
.s of
n1en placcd permanently under the ascendancy of another as
snhject
, without the rights of citizCllS, must be a source, at the
be
t, of weakness, and generally of danger, to the State. They
cannot well be expected, and have rarely been found, to evince
mnch hearty patriotic feeling towards a cOTnmunity in "hich
their Ileighhoul'
look down on then1 a
an inferior and penna-
nently degraded specics. 'Vltile kept in brutish ignorance,
povertr, and weakness, they are likely to feel-like the aðS in
the fable-indifferent who
c pallllierf' they bl\ar. If they iu-
crease ill powcr, wealth, and nlelltal dey('lopnlellt, they arc
likely to he e\-er 011 the watch for an opportunity of shaking otf
a degrading yokc. Even a complete general despotisn1, "weigh-
ing down all cl(1<;:se
,,""ithont e
ception, is, in general, far morc
feadily Lorlle, than invidious distinctions drawn between a
fa,"oured and a depre
:,ed r
ee of subjects; fOf men feel an
iW,ldt more than a 11LÎschief done to then1;1 and feel no insult

I '.A
LrCOVP.fVot, (Û
ËOLrCEV, vi c1v8f/CJJ1i"Ot p.å^^ov ÒPYL'ovrm,
ßLa'CJllfVOt.-
TllUC!ld. b. i.
77.

13 0

Of Seditions and Troubles.

[Essay xv.

so much as one daily and hourly inflicted by their inul1ediatc
neighbours. A Persian subject of the Great I{iug had prohably
no greater share of civil rights than a Helot; but he was likely
to be less galled by his depression, fronl being surrounded by those
who, though some of thcm possessed po".er aud dignity, as com-
pared ,vith hÌ1llself, yet were equally destitute of civil right
,
and abject slayes, in COlnmon .with hirn, of the one great despot.
, It is notorious, accordingly, how much Sparta was weakened
and endangered hy the Helots, always ready to avail thenlseh'es
of any public disaster as an occasion for revolt. The frightful
expedient was resorted to of thinning their numbers from time
to time by an organized system of massacre; yet, though a
great part of the territory held by Lacedæmon was left a desert, 1
security could not be purchased, even at this price.
, \Ve find I-Iaulliba1, again, maintaining hin1self for sLxteen
years in Italy against the Romans; and though scantily SUIJ-
plied fronl Carthage, recruiting his ranks, and nlaintaining his
positions, by the aid of Ronlan subjects. Indeed, almost every
11age of history teaches the same lesson, and proclaims in every
different forD1, 'IIow' long shall these nlell be a snare unto us?
Let the people go, that they may serve their God: kuo,vest
thou not yet that Egypt is destroyed ?'
'The remnant of these
nations which thou shalt not drive out, shall be pricks in thine
eyes, and thorns in thy ßide.'3
, But beside the other causes 'which haye ahrays operated to
perpet.uate, ill spite of experience, so impolitic a systeln, the
difficulty of changing it, .when once established, is one of the
greatest. The false step is one ,,,hich it is peculiarly difficult
to retrace. }'Ien long debarred from civil rights, almost
ahvays beconle ill fitted to enjoy then1. The brutalizing effects
of oppression, ,vhich cannot immediately be done a".ay by its
renlo\Yal, at once furnish a pretext for justifying it, and 111ake
relief hazardous. Kind and liberal treatment, if very cautiously
and judiciously bestowed, will gradually and slowly ad vance n1en
to-wards the condition of being worthy of such treatment; but treat
n1cn as aliens or enenlÍes-as slayes, a
children, or as brutes,
allù they w-ill speedily and completely justify your conduct.'"

1 T1UlCyd. b. iv. 2 Exodus x. 7. 3 l\-'-uillbers xxxiii. 55.
4 Essay on some of the Dangers to the CIlJ'isliail, Faiih. 2nd edition, note F.
])p.2I2-2I;.

Essay xv.]

Annotations.

13 1

, To which }JuJ1JOse (the rernoring of sedition) serreth . . , . . .
tILe 1"l
pJ"e8sing of waste ({/ld e
ce8S by Slll1lpluary luu'::!
. . . . lite regulatin!l of prices of things 'ceJldible . . . .'

Bacon here falls into the crror which always preyails in the
earlier stages of civilization, and ,,-hich accordingly was lllore
preyalcllt in his age than in ours-that of over-governing.
It may be reckoned a kind of puerility: for you will generally
find yuung persons prone to it, and also those legislators who
Ii ycd in the you ngel', i.e. the carlier ages of the ,,-orld. They
naturally wish to cnforce by law eyerything that they consider
to be good, and forcibly to prevent men fron1 doing anything
that is unadvisable. ...:-\nd the amount of mischief is incalculable
that has becn caused by this meddlesome kind of legislation.
.For not only haye such legislators been, 3.:s often as not, mis-
takcn, as to "hat really is bcneficial or hurtful, but also when
they have been right in their judgment on that point, they have
often done more harm than good by attempting to enforce by
la"r "hat had better be left to each lnan's own discretion.
..:\.s an exaluple of the firðt kind of error, n1ay be taken the
Inany cfÌorts made by the legislators of various countries to
restrict foreign commerce, on the supposition that it "rOllld
be ad\
antageous to supply all our w.ants ourseh
es, and that we
nlust b{' losers by purchasing anything from abroad. If a
wcayer were to spend half his tÌlne in atteluptillg to make
shoes anù fUl'lliturc for himsclf, or a shoemaker to neglect his
trade while endeavouring to raise corn for his own consumption,
they "rould be guilty òf no greater folly than has often becn,
and in Inany instances still is, forced on n1any nations by their
go'.ernmellt
; which have elldeayourccl to withdraw from agri-
culture to manufactures a people posse
sing abundance of
fcrtile land, or "Who ha-\.e forced them to the home cultivation
of such articles as thcir soil and clilnate are not suited to, and
thus conlpellecl them to supply then1selyes with an inferior
commodity at a greater cost.
On the other hand, there is no doubt that early hours are
healthful, alid that mcu ought not to sqnander their 1110ney on
luxuriou:-; fcasts and COðt1y dl'es
, unsuited to their meallS; but
when gOYCl'nlnents thereupon undertook to prescribe the hour

13 2

OJ Seditiolls and Troubles.

[Essay xV".

at which Dlen should go to rest, requiring them to put out their
lights at the sound of the curfe"r-bell, and enacted SU111ptuary
laws as to the garments they 'were to ,,-ear, and the dishes of
meat they ,,-ere to have at their tables, this nleddling kind of
legislation was always found excessi,'ely galling, and nl0reO\'er
entirely ineffectual j since men's dislike to such laws always
produced contri,rances for e,'arling the spirit of thenl.
Bacon, however, ,vas far from always seeing his way rightly
in these questions j which is certainly not to be ,volldered at,
considering that '" e, who live three centuries later, haye only
just emerged from thick darkness into twiligbt, and are far from
having yet completely thrown off those erroneous notions ot
our forefathers. The regulating of l)rices by la"r still existed,
in the memory of most of us, with respect to bread-and the
error of legislating against engrossing of conllliodities has only
very lately been exploded.

[The following extract from the Annual Register for 1779, (Appendix, p. II-4-,)
may serve to show what absurd notions on political economy were afloat even
in the memory of 11ersons now living. The extract is ß'om a 'Plan by Dr.
Franklin and 1\11'. Dalrymple for benefiting distant countries'):-
e Fair conl1nerce is, where equal values are exchanged fo1'
equal, the expense of transport included. Thus, if it costs A
in England as 111uch labour and charge to raise a bushel of
,vheat, as it costs n in France to produce four gallons of wine,
then are four gallons of ,vine the fair exchange for a bushel of
wheat, A and n meeting at half distance \yith their commoditie::;
to make the exchange. The ad,-alltage of thís fair commerce
is) that each party incrcases the nUluber of his enjoyments,
having instead of wheat alone, or wine alone, the use of both
,,-heat and ,yinc.
e 'Yhere the labour and expen!'o.e of producing both COIn-
nlodities are known to both parties, bargains will generally be
fair and equal. 'Yhere they are known to one party only,
bargains will often be unequal,-knowledge taking its adyantage
of ignorance.
'Thus, he that carries a thousand bushels of wheat abroad to
sell, may not probably obtain so great a profit thercon as if he
had first turned the ,,-hcat into nlanufactures, by subsisting
therewith the ,,'orlaucn 'while producing those nlanufactures.
Since there are nlany expediting and facilitating methods of

l
:--say xv ]

Annotations.

133

working, not generally known j and strangers to the manu-
factnre
, though they know pretty well the cxpense of raising
wheat, are unacquaintcd ,vith those short methods of working,
and thcnce being apt to suppose more labour em ploy cd in the
nlanufacturcs than thcre realJy is, are more easily inlposed on
in thcir ,-aluc, and induced to al10w n10re for them than they
arc honestly worth. rrhus, the ach-antage of haying manu-
factures in a country, does not consist, as is commonly supposed,
in their highly ach-ancing the ,-alue of rough materials of which
they arc formed:
ince though six pennyworths of flax may be
worth twenty 8hillings when 'worked into lace, yet the yery
cause of itç; being worth twenty shillings is, that, besides the
flax, it has cost nineteen shillings and sixpence in subsistence
to the manufacturer. But the ad,-anta:;e of manufactures i
,
t hat under their shape provisions may be more easily carried to
a foreign market j and by their means our traders ma y more
easily cheat strangers. }-'ew, ,vhere it is not made, are judges
of the yalue of lace. The importer may demand forty, and
pcrhap
get thirty shillings, for that which cost him hut twenty.
'l
illally, there seem to be but three ways for a nation to
acquire wealth. The first is by 'war, as the Rornans did, in
plundering their conquered neighbours. This is robbery. The
sccond by CUrìlJìZerCe, which is generally cheating. The third is
hy agriculture, the only honest way, "Therein man receives a
real increase of the seed sown in the ground, in a kind of con.
tinual miracle wrought by the hand of God in his fayour, as a
reward for his innocent life and his virtuous industry.'

The reader will olJscr,-e that in this disquisition, labour is
n1ade the sole lueasure of value, without any reganl to the
qn('
tions, 'whose labour? or, IIOW directed? and, with 'lv/lat
results? On this principle, therefore, if a Raphael takes only
a;':) much time and trouble in makil1g a fine picture, a
a shoe-
nlaker in Inaking a pair of hoots, he is a cheat if he rcceives
11101'(' for his picture than the other for the boots! Aud if it
costs the san1e labour to produce a cask of ordinary Cape-wine,
and one of Constantia, thcyought in justice to sell for the san1e
price! Thus our notious of lllorality, as wf>ll as of political
cconolny, are thrown into disorder.
Yet
llch nonsense as this passed current in the days of our

13-4-

Of Seditions and TroubhJs.

[E
sa)p xv.

fathers. And it is only in our own days that people have been
permitted to buy food where they could get it cheapest.

, Tlterre llsetlt to be more trepidation in court upon tlte first break-
ing out of trroubles titan were fit . . . .'
To expect to tranquillize and benefit a country by gratifying
its agitators, would be like the practice of the superstitious of
old with their sympathetic powders and ointments; who, instead
of applying medicaments to the ,yound, contented themselves
,vith salving the sword which had inflicted it. Since the days
of Dalle-gelt dowllTI"ards, nay, since the world ,vas created,
nothing but evil has resulted from concessions made to intin1Ï-
dation.

ESSAY X"\TI. OF ATIIEIS1I.

I II.A.D rathcr believe all the fahles ill the Legend, and the

'almud, and thc _\..lcoran, than that this uuivcrsal frame is
without a n1Íncl; and, therefore, God never wrought miracles to
convince I atheisn1, because his ordinary works cOllyince it. It
is true, that a little philosophy inc1ineth )Ian's mind to atheisn1,
hut depth in philosophy bringf'th men's minds about to religion;
for ,vhil<, the mind of )Ian looketh upon second causcs scattered,
it may som('times rcst in thcIn, and go no farther; but .when it
bcholdeth the chain of them confederate, and linked together, it
11lUst needs fiy to Pro,-idence and Deity: nay, cyen that school
,vhich is most accused of atheism, cloth most demonstrate
religion; that is, the school of Lcucippus, and Den1ocritus, and
Epicuru::;-for it is a thousand tinlcs more crcdible, that four
n1utahle clements and one imn1utable fifth essence, duly and
etcrnally placed, need no God, than that an army of infinite
small portions, or seeds unplaced, should have produced this
ordcr and beauty without a divine marshal. The Scripture
saith, 'The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God ;'2 it is
not
aid, 'The fool hath thought in his hcart;' so as 3 he rather
saith it by rote to himself, as that 4 he would have, than that he
can thoroughly believe it, or be persuaded of it; for none deny
thcrc is a God, but those for ,vhom it maketh that there were
no God. It appeal'eth in nothing more, that atheism is rather
in the lip than in the heart of 3Ian, than by this, that atheists
".ill eyer bc talking of that thcir opinion, as if they fainted in
it themschTc
, and "rould be glad to he strengthcned by the
consentS of others; uay, more, you shall hayc atheists strive to
get disciples, as it farcth with other sects; and, which is most
of all, you shall haye of thenl that .will sufter for atheisn1, and
not _ recant; whereas, if thcy did truly think that there were

1 Convince. Com-iet; prot'e guilty. c To convince all that are ungodly among
them of all their ungodly deeds/-Epistle of Jude.
.
Psalm xiv. I. 3 As. That. See page 22.
"That. JVltaf.
ee page 59,
I) Consent. Agl'eement in opinion. ' Socrates, by the consent of all excellent
,uiters that followed him, was appruved to be the wisest man of all Greece.' -Sir J.
El!lo{ .

J3 6

Of Atlleisn
.

[Essay xyi.

no such thing as God, ,vhy should they trouble themselves?
l
picurus is charged, that he did but dissemble for his credit's
sake, ,vhen he affirmed there were blessed natures, but such as
enjoyed themselves without having respect to the government
of the ,vorld, wherein they say he did temporize, though in
secret he thought there was no God; but certainly he is tra-
duced, for his" ords are noble and divine; 'Non deos vulgi
negare profanum; sed vulgi ol)iniones diis applicare profanum. H
Plato could have said no more; and although he had the
confideucc 2 to dCIlY the achninistratioll, he had not the power to
deny the nature. rrhe Indians of the \Vest have names for their
particular gods, though they have no name for God; as if the
heathens should have had the names Jupiter, Apollo, 1\Iars, &c.,
but not the word Deus: which shows, that even those bar-
barous people have the notion, though they have not the lati-
tude and extent of it; so that against athei
ts the very savages
take part ,vith the very subtilest philosophers. The contem-
plative atheist is rare-a Diagoras, a Bion, a Lucian, perha}Js,
and son1e others; and yet they seeln to be more than they are,
for that all that impugn a received religion, or superstition, are,
by the adverse part, branded with the name of atheists; but the
great atheists indeed are hypocrites, which are ever handling
holy things, but without feeling, so as they D1USt needs be cau-
terized in the end.
The causes of atheism are, divisions in religion, if there
be many; for anyone n1ain division addeth zeal to both sides,
but many divisions introduce atheisln: another is, scandal of
priests, ,vhen it is come to that .which St. Bernard saith,
, Non est jam dicere, ut populus, sic sacerdos; quia nec sic
populus, ut sacerdos.'3 A third is, a custom of profane scoffing in
holy matters, .which doth by little and little deface the reverence of
religion: and lastly, learned times, especially ,vith peace and
prosperity; for troubles and adversities do D10re bow men's
minds to religion. They that deny a God destroy a lnan's
llobility, for certainly 'Ian is of kin to the beasts by his body;
and if he be Dot of kin to God by his spirit, he is a base and

1 'It is not profaue to deny the gods of the common people, but it is profane to
apJ>I

to the gods the notions of the common people/-Diogo Laert. x. 12 3.

Confidence. Boldness.
3 'It is not now to be said, As the people, so the priest; because the people arc
)lot such as the priests are.'

E:;
ay x\-i.]

AllJlotalioJls.

137

ignoble creature. It destroys likewise magnanimity, and the
raisiug human nature; for, take an example of a dog, and mark
what a generosity and couragp he ,,-ill put on whcn he finds
himself Inaintained by a mall, "ho to him is instead of a God,
or 1/lelior Ilalural-which courage is manifestly such as that
Cfeature, without that confidence
of a better nature than his
own, could nc,'cr attain. So )Ian) WhCll he restedl and assureth
himself upon di,-ine protection and fa,'our, gathereth a force and
faith which human nature ill itself could not obtain; therefore,
as atheis111 is in all re
pects hateful, so in this, that it depriyeth
hunlan nature of the ll1eans to exalt itself aboye human frailty.
As it is in particular persons) so it is in nations :-never was
there such a state for Inagnanimity as Rome. Of this state
hear what Cicero saith: 'Quam volumus, licet, patres conscripti,
nos alUen1l1S, tamcn nec lllUllero IIispanos, nec rob ore Gallos,
nee calliditate Pællos, nee artibus Græeos,llcc dCllique hoc ipso
hujus gentis ct terræ domestico nati,.oque sensu Italos ipsos et
Latinos; sed pietate, ac religiolle, at que hac una sapicntia, quod
cleorum immortalium nunIÏne omnia regi, gnberllarique per-

pe
inuls, OIUllCS gentes llatiollesque superavimus.'3

AXXOT
\.TIOXS.

, I/tad rathel. bclieve all lite fables ill the Legend, and the Tabnud,
alld tILe Alcoran, tllan that this 'llnh'ersal fralne is without a
7ìl ill d.'
I t is evident from this, that Bacon had seized the just yiew
rC:5peeting credulity; seeing plainly that 'to disbelicye is to
believe.' If one man belie,.es that there is a God, and another
that there i
no GOl1, whiehe,-er holds the lc
s reasonable of
the::;c two opinions is chargeable with credulity. For, the only
way to avoid credulity and incredulity-the two necessarily going

1 A better nature.
2 Confiùencc. Firm belief. '
ociety is built upon trust, and trust upon COf1jì-
dell.Ce of one another's integrity/-Svutll"
3 'Let us be as partial to oUl'
el\"es as we will, Conscript Fathers, yet we }Hwe
U?t. surpa

cd the Bpaniards in number, nor the Hauls in strength, nor the Cartha-
gUl1HnS in cunuing, nor the Greeks in the art:o;, nor, la
tly, the Latins and Italian:;
uf this nation aud laud, ill the sp(.cial and native seU5e; but \\ e ha \"e e:\.celled all
uations and P eo p le in P iet y and re1iO'ion and in this Olle wisùom of fully recoo'uizinO"
l' l:' ,
'=' c
t Ilat all thmgs Hre orderetl aud gOVl'l"lIeÙ b \' the power of the imlllortal e'{jù.
.'-
l'i\.". De Har. Rt:ðp" 9, -

13 8

Of Atlteisnz.

[Essay xyi.

together-is to listen to, and yield to, the best evidence, and to
believe and disbelieve on good grounds.
And however in1perfectly and indistinctly ,ve may under-
stand the attributes of God-of the Eternal "Being who Inade
and ,vho governs an things-the 'mind of this universal
frame,' the l)roof of the existence of a Being I)Ossesscd of
them is most clear and fun; being, in fact, the very san1e evi-
dence on ,,,hich we believe in tlte existence of one another. Ho\v
do ,ve know that men exist? (that is, not n1erely Beings having
a certain 'Cisible bodily -form-for that is not ,,,hat ,re chiefly
imply by the word man,-but rational agents, such as we call
men). Surely not by the innnediate evidence of our senses,
(since mind is not an object of sight), but by observing the
things j1t:rfor'lned-the manifest result of rational contrivance.
If we land in a strange country, doubting ,,,hether it be
inhabited) as soon as we find, for instance, a boat, or a house,
,,,e are as perfectly certain that a man has been there, as if he
had appeared before our eyes. Yet the atheist believes that
, this universal fran1e is ,vithout a mind;' that it was the produc-
tion of chance; that the particles of matter of which the world
consists, moyed about at random, and accidentally fell into the
shape it no\v bears. Surely the atheist has little reason to
Inake a boast of his' incredulity,' ,,,hile believing anything so
strange and absurd as that' an army of infinitely small110rtions
of seeds unplaced, should have produced this order and beauty
,,-ithout a divine ll1arsha1.'
In that phenomenon in language, that both in the Greek and
Latin, nouns of the neuter gender, denoting things, invariably
had the n0111Ïnative and the accusative the san1e, or rather, had
an accusative only, en1ployed as a nominati\Te ,,-ben l'cqnired,-
Inay there not be traced an indistinct consciousness of the
persuasion that a n1ere thing is not capable of being an agent,
which a person o!lly can really be; and that the possession of
power, strictly so called, by physical causes, is not conceivable,
or their capacity to maintain, any more than to produce at first,
the system of the Universe ?-whose continucd existence, as
well as its origin, seems to depend on the continued ol)eration
of the great Creator. :ßIay there not be in this an adn1iðsion
that the laws of nature presuppose an agent, and are incapable
of being the cause of their o,,-n observance?

l:s
ay xyi.]

AnnoÜ tions.

139

, Epicu}9llS is cllar!Jed, that he did but dissemhle fo/" !tis credit's sake,
'wILen lie liffitJìled there were blessed Ilatures . . . . . u.herein
they say he did but tellljJori::e, though in secret he thought
tht:,ge was ItO God. But certainly he is tradured.'
It is l'cnlarkable that Bacon, like n1any othcrs vcry COll-
ycrsant with ancicnt mythology, failed to perccÏ\
e that the
pagan nations were in reality atheists. They mistake altogether
the real charaC'ter of the pagan religions. They ÏInagine that
aU mcn, in every age and country, had always ùesigned to
'worship one Supreme God, the :\Iaker of all things; 1 and that
the error of the Pagans consisted merely in the false accounts
they gave of Ilim, and in their worshipping other inferior gods
hesides. But this is altogether a mistake. Bacon 'was, in this,
misled by "
ords, as so many have becnJ-the very delusion he
so earnest! y 'warns men against. The Pagans used the word
, God;' but in a different sense from us. For by the word God,
,ve understand an Etcrna] Bcing, who Blade and 'who governs
all things. ..Aud if anyone should deny that there is any such
Being, we should say that he was an atheist; even though he
might bclieve that there do exist Beings superior to .Jlan, such
as the Fairies and Genii, in .WhOlll the uneducated in many
parts of Europe still belie,"e.
Accordingly, the apostle Paul (Ephes. ii. 12) expressly calls
the ancient Pagans atheists ((
OfOl), though he well knew that
they ,vorshipped certain suppos
d superior Bcings which they
caned god
. But he says in the Epistle to the ROJìzans, that
'they ,,'orshipper1 the creature more than
(that is, instead of)
the Creator.' And at Lystra (Acts xiv. 15), whcn the people
were going to do sacrifice to hinl and Barnabas, n1Ístakillg thcln
for two of their gods, he told thern to ' turn from those vanities
to ser\
e the [icing God who ,nade heat'en and earth.'
This is what is declared in the first sentence of the Book of
Genesis. Ana so far wcre the ancient Pagans from helic,-ing
that 'in the beginning God nlade the heavens and the earth,'

1 See Pope's Ulliul"sal P,"agel.:-
, .Father of aU, in en>ry age,
In every clime adored;
By
mint, b
'
a'\"age, and by
llge, "
Jehovah, J OYC, 01" Lord.'

I1.1,>Ù TÒV KT:cra"õa.

14 0

Of AtheisJ17.

[Essay x,-i.

that, on the contrary, the hea'
enl3, and the earth, and the sea,
and many other natural objects, were anlong the
'ery gods they
adored. They did, indeed, believe such extravagant fables as
Bacon alludcs to, and .which he declares to be less incredible
than that 'this universal franle is "yithout a mind;' and yet,
they did also believe that it is without a mind; that is, ,,-ithout
w hat he evidently lneans by 'a mind' -an eternal, intelligent
::\Iaker and ltuler.

, Tiie causes of atheism are . . . . . . A third is a CllStOJ}
of
profane scoffing in holy 1Jtatte1
S.'

In reference to I the IJrofane scoffing in holy matters,' it is
to be observed that jests on sacred subjects are, whcll lnen are
so disposed, the most easily produced of any; because the
contrast 1Jet\veen a dignified and a low image, exhibited in
combination (in which the .whole force of the ludicrous consists),
is, in this case, the most striking. It is commonly said, that
there is no wit in profane jests; but it would be hard to frame
any definition of wit that should exclude them. It would be
more correct to say (and I really believe that is ,vhat is really
meant) that the practice displays no great powers of wit
because the subject matter renders it so particularly easy; and
that (for the very sanle reason) it affords the least gratification
(apart from all higher considerations) to judges of good taste;
since a great part of the pleasure afforded by wit results from
a perception of skill displayed and difficulty surn101ulted.
"T e have said, apart from all higher considerations; for surely,
there is sOluething very shocking to a ,,-en-disposed mind in
such jests, as those, for instance, so frequently heard, in con-
nection w.ith Satan and his agency. Suppose a rational Being
-an inhabitant of SOlne other planet-could visit this, our
earth, and witness the gaiety of hcart ,vith which Satan, and
his agents, and his victims, and the dreadful doom reserved for
them, and eycrything relating to the subject, are, by many
persons, talked of and laughed at, and resorted to as a source
of an1usemellt; ,,-hat inference "Would he be likely to dra,,-?
Doubtless he would., at first, conclude that no one belie'
ed
anything of all tùis, but that "ye regarded thc ,yhole as a string
of fables, like the heathen n1Jthology, or the nursery tales of

E:,say x, i.]

Annotati(ntS.

14 1

fairies and enchanters, which are told to alnusc cl1ÏJdren. But
Wllf}ll he CalUC to learn that thesc things ß,rc not only true, but
are actually bclievcd by the far greater part of those who,
llcvertheless, trcat thcln as a subjcct of Jlzirtlt, what ".ould he
tllÍllk of us thcn? lIe would surely regard this as a most
t:t.;;;toullcling proof of the great art, and of the great influence
of that Evil Being ,,"110 can have so far blindcd men's under-
standings, and so depraved their moral sentiments, and so
hardened thcir hearts, as to lead thcln, not merely to regard
with careless apathy their spiritual enemy, and the dangers they
are e
posed to from hin1, and the final ruin of his victims, hut
even to firHl amuStlnent in a subject of such surpassing borror,
and to introduce allusions to it ùy way of a jest! Surely,
gene-rally spcaking, right-n1illded persons are accustomed to
regard wickedness and Inisel'Y as n10st unfit subjects for jestiug.
They would be shockcd at anyone who ShOlÙd find amllsellzellt
in the ravagcs and slaughter perpetrated by a licentious soldiery'
in a conquered country; or in the lingering tortures inflicted
1)y wild Indians on their prisoners; or in the burning of heretics
under the Inquisition. X ay, the ycry lnquisitors themseh"es,
who haye thought it their duty to practise such cruelties, would
hayc been ashamed to be thought so brutal as to regard the
sufferings of thcir yictin1s as a subjprt of mirth. And anyone
who should treat as a jest the crin1es and cruelties of the French
Revolution, would generally be deemed more depraved than
even the perpetrators themsel ves.
It is, however, to be observed, that wc are not to he offended
as if sacred matters were laughed at, when some folly that has
been forced into connection with them is exposed. 'Vhen things
really ridiculous are nlixed up .with religion, who is to he
hIanlcd ? Not he who shows that they are ridiculous, and 110
parts of religion, but those who disfigure truth by blending
fal
chood with it. It is true, illdeecl, that to attack evcn error
in religion with IIlere ridicule is no wise act; because good
things may be ridicnled as well as bad. But it surely cannot
be our duty to ahstain froln showing plainly tLat absurd thing

aloe ahsurd, merely bccause pcople cannot help snIiling at them.
A tree is not inj ured by being cleared of moss and lichen
;
nor truth, hy having folly or sophi
try torn away fronl around it.
It is a good plan, with a youug person of a character to

14 2

Of AthtisÎÌl.

[Essay x,-i.

be much affected by ludicrous and absurd representations, to
show him plainly, by examples, that there is nothing which
Dlay not he so represented; he .will hardly need to be told that
everything is not a mere joke, and he lTIay thus be secured from
falling into a contempt of those particular things 'which he may at
any time happen to find so treated; and, instead of being led by
'profane scoffing on holy matters into atheism,' as Bacon sup-
poses, he ""ill be apt to pause and reflect that it may be as
,veIl to try over again, with serious candour, everything ,vhich
has been hastily giyen up as fit only for ridicule, and to abandon
the system of scoffing altogether; looking at everything on the
right side as well as on the ,vrong, and trying how any system
,v ill look, standing upright, as ,veIl as topsy-tm
'''y.

, The causes of atheism are . . . . .'

Among the causes of atheism, Bacon has omitted one noticed
by him as one of the causes of superstition, and ret it is not
le:ss a source of infidelity-' the taking an aim at divine matters
by human, ,vhich cannot but breed mixture of imaginations.'
No\v, in human nature there is no more pnwerful priuciple than
a craving for i nfallibiZity in religious matters. To examine and
re-examine,-to reason and reflect,-to hesitate, and to decide
with caution,-to be always open to evidence,-and to acknow-
lcdge that, after all, we are liable to error ;-all this is, on many
accounts, unacceptable to the human rnind,-both to its diffidence
and to its pride,-to its indolence,-its dread of anxious cares,
-aHd to its love of self-satisfied and confident repose. And
hence there is a strong prejudice in favour of any system 'which
promises to put an end to the ,,"ork of inquiring, at ouce and
for ever, and to relieve us from all embarrassing doubt and
uncomfortable distrust. Consequently this craving for infallibi-
lity predisposes men towards the pretensions, either of a supposed
unerring Church, or of those who claim or \vho prolnise imme-
t1iate inspiration. And this promise of infallible guidance, not
only lTIeets man's wishes, but his conjectures also. '
Yhen "we
give the reins to our own fcelings and faucies, such a provision
appears as probable as it is desirable. If antecedently to the
distinct announcenlellt of any particular revelation, l1len .were
asked what kind of rc,"clatiol1 they would u'islt to obtain, and

Es
ay xvi.]

Alluoial iOIl..o::.

143

again, what kind of revelation thcy would think it thc most
reasonable and jJ,'oóaúle that God
hould bestow, they would be
likcly to allswcr botlt que
tions by saying, , Sue-h a l'c,'clation as
should proyide SOlne illfallible guide on carth, readily accessible
to c'9cry man; so that no one could possibly Lc in doubt, on
any l)oint, a
to what hc was required to believe and to do; but

houla bc placed, as it werc, on a kind of plain high road,
which he would only have to follow steadily, without taking any
care to look aroulld hinl; or, rather, in some kind of yehicle
on such a road, in which he would be safcly carricd to his
journcy's cnd, even though asleep, proyided he ncver quitted
that "ehicle. For,' a mall luight say, 'if a hook is put into
IllY hands containing a divine revelation, and ill 'which are
pa
sagcs that may he differently understood by different person
,
-even ùy tho
e of learning and ability,-even by lllcn pro-
fessing' each to hayc earllc
tly praycd for spiritual guidance
towards thc right interpretation thereo.f,-alld if, moreover, this
book contains, in respect of some points of bclief and of con-
duct, no dircctions at all,-then there is a 111allifest necessity
that I should he provided with an infallible illterpl'eter of thi

hook, who shall be always at hand to bc consulted, and ready
to teach nle, ,vithout the possibility of mistakc, the right
mcaning of evcry passage, and to supply all deficiencies and
omi
::,ions ill thc book itself. For otherwise this revelation is,
to me, no revelation at all. Though the book itself be perfectly
free froln all admixture of error,-though an that it asserts be
true, and all its directions right, still it is no guide for 'me, unless
I huxe an infallible certainty, on each point, what its assertions
and dircctions are. It is in vain to tell me that the pole-star
is always fixed in the north; I cannot stecr my course by it
WhCll it is obscured by clouds, so that I cannot be certain where
that star is. I need a co/ujJl1S,1tt to steer by, which I can consult
at aU tirnes. There is, thcrefore, a 11lanifest necessity for an
infaHiLle and universally accessible interpreter on earth, as an
indispensable accompaniment-and indeed e

clltial part-of
any divine revelation.'
Such would be the reasoning::;;, and such the feelings, of a
nlan left to hinu
elf to consider what sort of revelation froBl
IIeu,,'eu would be the most acceptable, and al
o the most P).o-
úable,-thc mO:5-t adapted to mcct his u:is/tes and his wants.

144

Of Atlu:isrn.

[Essay xvi.

And thus are men predisposcd, both by their feelings and thcir
antecedent conjectures, towal'ds the adn1ission of such preten-
sions as have been above alluded to.
And it may be added, that anyone who is tlnls induced to
give himself up implicitly to the guidance of such a supposcd
infallible authority, without presuming thenceforth to exercise
his own judgment on any point relative to religion, or to think
for himself at all on such matters,-such a one "will be likelv
"'
to regard this procedure as the very perfection of pious hum,ility,
-as a most reverent observance of the rule of 'lcan not to
thine O'wn understanding;' though in reality it is the very error
of improperly leaning to our o,vn understanding. For, to
resolve to believe that God '/rtust have dealt with mankind just
in the way that we could wish as the most desirable, and in tho
,yay that to 'Us seen1S the n10st probable ,-this is, in fact, to set
up ourselves as his judges. It is to dictate to Him, in the spirit
of N aaman, who thougltt that the prophet would recover hÍIll
by a touch; and ,vho chose to be healed by the waters of Abana
and Pharpar, the rivcrs of Damascus, which he deemed bettel
than all the waters of Israel.
But anything that falls in at once with men's 'wishes, and
.with their conjectuJ"'es, and which also presents itsclf to them in
the guise of a virtuous luunility,-this they arc oftcn found
readily and firmly to believe, not only 'without evidence, but
against all evidence.
And thus it is in the prcsent casc. The principle that every
revelation from Heaven neces33.rily requires, as an indispensable
accon1panÏ1nent, an infallible interpreter always at hand,-this
principle clings so strongly to the minc1s of many men, that
they are even found still to maintain it after they have ceased
to believe in any revelation at all, or even in the existence of
a God.
There can be no doubt of the fact, that very great numbers
of lllen are to be found,-they are much more nun1erous ill
some parts of the Continent than an10ng us; lllen not deficient
in intelligence, nor altogether strangers to reflection, who, while
they, for the most part, conform externally to the prevailing
rcligion, are inwardly utter unbelievers in Christianity; yet still
hold to the principle,-which, in fact, has had the chief ::;hare
in rJ/;'llcing them unbeliever
,-that the idea of a DIVI
E REVE-

ay ).vi.]

AnJlutations.

145

I..\TIO:'J implies that of a univcrsally accessihlp, IXF.\I.LIBLE
I
TERl)IlETElt; and that the one without the other is an absur-
dity and contradiction.
And this principlc it is that JUts mainly contributcd to 'make
these nlcn unbelicvcrs.
'or, when a tolcrably intclligcnt and
reflcctive man has fully satisfied hilnself that in point of fact
no such provision has been made,-that no infallible and uni-
ycrsally acccssihle interprctcr docs cxist on earth (and this is a
conclu
ioll which c\-en the vcry words of Paul, in his di
course
f
t :\Iiletus (Acts xx.) would be alone funy sufficient to estahlish)
-when he has satisficd hhnsclf of the non-existence of this
interpreter, yet still adheres to the principle of its supposed
necessity, the consequence is inc\-itable, that he will at once
rcjcct aU Lelief of Christianity. The ideas of a REVELATIO:'\,
an(lof an uncrring I
TEH.PRETER, bcing, in his mind, inseparahly
cOlljoincc1, the o\
('rthrow of the one belief cannot hut carry the
other along with it. Such a pcrson, therefore, will be apt to
think it not worth while to examine the reasons in fayour of
any other forru of Christianity, not pretending to furnish an
illfal1iblc intcrpreter. This-which, he is fully convinced, is
('
sential to a Ite\-eIation from IIeaven-is, by sonle Churches,
claimed, hut not e.-dahlished, while the rest do not e\-en claim
it. The pretensions of the one he has listened to, and delibe-
rately rejcctcd; those of the other he regards as not even worth
listening to.
The system, then, of reasoning from our own conjeCtures
a
to the nccessit)T of the
lost If igh doing so and so, tends to
lcad a Ulan to procccd from the fC'jection of his own form of
Christianity to a rejection of rcvelation altogcther. TIut does
it stop here? Does not the sanle sy
tem lead naturally to
Atheisll1 al
o? Experience shows that that consequence, which
reason might have anticipated, does often actually take place.
lIe who gives the reins to his own conjectures as to what is
neces8ary, and thencc draws hi
couelnsion
, will be likely to
find a necessity for such divine interference in the affairs of the
world as docs not in fact take place. lIe will deem it no less
than neccssary, that an omnipotent and all-\\
ise and beneficent
Being
hould interfere to rescue the oppressed from the oppressor,
-the corrupted frolTI the corrupter,-to deli vel' men from such
tCluptations to c\ il as it is lllorally impossible they should
L

Lt 6

Of Atheisn
.

[Essay xvi.

,yithstanc1 ;-ancl, in short, to òanish e'Cil from the universe.
And, since this is not done, he draws the inference that there
cannot possihly be a God, and that to believe otherwise i8 a
gross absurdity. Such a belief he may, indeed, consider as
u8cful for keeping up a wholesome awe in the minds of the
vulgar; and for their sakes he Inay outwardly profe::;s Christianity
a180; eyen as the heathen philosophers of old endeavoured to
keep up the popular superstitions; but a real belief he will
regard as something itnpossible to an intelligent aucl reflective
mind.
It is not meant that all, or the greater part, of those .who
Inaintain the principle here spoken of, are Atheists. "... e all
kno,v ho,v common it is for men to fail of carrying out some
principle (,vhether good or bad) which they have adopted ;-ho,v
comn1011, to 111aintaill the premises, and not perceive the con-
clusion to 'which they lead. But the tendency of the principle
itself is ,vhat is here pointed out: and the danger is anything
but in1aginary, of its leading, in fact, as it does naturally and
consistently, to Atheism as its ultimate result.
But surely, the Atheist is not hereby excused. To reject
or undervalue the revelation God has bestowed, urging that it
is no J'cyelatioll to us, or an insufficient one, because unerring
certainty is not bestowed al
o,-because we are required to
exercise patient diligence, and ,,'atchfulness, and candour, anù
humble self-distrust,-this "Tould be as unreasonable as to dis-
parage and reject the bountiful gift of eye-sight, because ll1en's
eyes haye sometimes deceiyed them-because men haye mis-
taken a picture for the oùject imitated, or a mirage of the
desert Îor a lake; and have fancied they had the eyidence of
sight for the sun's motion; and to infer from all this that we
ought to blindfold ourselves, and be led henceforth by some guide
,,,ho pretends to be himself not liable to such deceptions.
Let no one fear that by forbearing to forestall the judgment
of the last day,-by not presuming to dictate to the
Iost
IIigh, and boldly to pronounce in ,vhat ,vay He UlZfst have in1-
parted a revelation to l\Ian,-hy renouncing all pretensions to
illfallilJility, whether an in1111ediate and personal, or a dcriyed
illfallilJility,-by owning themselves to be neither iml)eCcable
lior infallible (both claims are alike groundless), and by con-
senting to undergo those trials of vigilance and of patience

Essay xvi.]

Annotations.

147

which God has appointcd for thcm,-let thC1ll not fear tbat by
this they ,,,ill forfcit all chcerful hope of final sah-ation,-all
'joy and pcace ill bcJievillg.' 'flte rcycrse of all this is the
rcality. 'Yhile such Christians as ha'"e sought rathcr for peace,
-for Hlcntal tranquillity and satisfactioll,-than for truth, .will
often fail both of truth and peace, those of the opposite dis-
position are more likely to attain both from their gracious

Iaster. IIc has taught us to 'take heed that we be not deceived,'
and to 'bc"are of false prophets j' and IIc has promised us
lIis own peace and heavenly comfort. He has bid us watch
alH.l pray; He 11as taught us, through His lJlessed Apostle, to
'take heed to ourselves,' and to (work out our salvation ,vith
fear and trcmbling;' and lIe has declared, through the same
Apostlc, that ' lIe worketh in us;' lIe has bid us rejoice in hope;
lIe has pron1Ì
ed that }-Ie 'will not suffcr us to be tempted
above what we arc aùle to bear;' and lIe has taught us to look
forward to the time when we shall no longer (see as by means
of a mirror, darkly, but face to face ;'-when ,ve shall know,
'not in part, but even as we are knowll ;'-when faith shall be
succeeded by certainty, and hope be ripened into enjoyment.
IIis precepts and his promises go together. II is support and
comfort are given to those who seek for them in the way He
has I-limsclf appointed.

L 2

ESSAY X'TII. OF SUPERSTITION.

I T were better to have no opinion of God at all, than such an
opinion as is un,vorthy of I-lim; for the one is unbelief, tl1c
other is contumely: and certainly superstition is the reproach
of the Deity. Plutarch saith well to that purpose: (Surely,'
saith he, , I had rather a great deal, men should say there .was
110 such a man at all as Plutarch, than that they should say
there ",.as one Plutarch, that ,vould eat his children as soon as
they were born ;'1 as the poets speak of Saturn: and as the
contumely is greater towards God, so the danger is greater
towards men. Atheism leaves a man to sense, to philosophy,
to natural piety, to laws, to reputation-all which may be
guides to an outward moral ,Tirtue, though religion were not,-
but superstition dismounts all these, and erecteth an absolute
monarchy in the minds of men; therefore atheism did never
perturb 2 States; for it makes men wary of themselves, as looking
no further; and ,,'e see the times inclined to atheisn1, as the
time of Augustus Cæsar, 'vere civil 3 times; but superstition
hath been the confusion of many States, and bringeth in a ne,v
priunun
nobile, 4 that rayisheth all the spheres of government.
The master of superstition is the people, and in all superstition
wise men follow fools; and arguments are fitted to practice in
a reversed order. It was gravely said, by some of the prelates
in the Council of Trent, ,vhere the doctrine of the schoolmcn
bare great sway, that the schoolmen were like astronomers,
which did feign eccentrics and epicycles, and such engines of
orbs, to save the phenomena, though they knew there were no
such things; and, in like manner, that the schoolmen had
framed a number of subtile and intricate axioms and theorems,
to save the practice of the Church.

1 Pluto De Superstit. x.
2 Perturb. To disturb. 'They are content to suffer the penalties annexed,
rather than perturb the public peace/-King Cltarles I. I
3 Civil. Orderly; tranquil; ch'ilized.
'For rudest minds by llarmony were caught,
And civil life was by the :l\Iuses taught.'-Roscommon. I
4 PrimuD1 mobile. See page 120.
I
I
I
I
J
I

'l
- X\ü.=

aJi

'r.

The rou.s $ 0 supe
tition are pl
in
and :sensual. ri es and
cereluonie
: e'\:ce
of ou \ ard and ph3.&-uC'31 holin(
; orer.
re 3
rc\""erence of radition
'which canno bu ]oot! the Church. the
'trat3geUb 0 prelatt::.. or their own ambition and luc.re: - e
f..'1you.ring 00 much 0
f)()(] intenrion
. which openeth he _dte 0
concei:
and no\'"eltifs; the akin an ØÜm a dirine matte
by
human \Thieb canno but breed 1IJ.ll.tu.re 0 im...riD .'-ons.. . nd
k......ly, barbarou, times e5pecially joined wi h calamitie5 and d:.
-
3.5ters.
lper.5tiriOD.: withon a {"eil.l i, a deformed hing; tòr
i
addeth de òrmity to an ;.\pe to be.... like a man 50 he
imilitude
of 'E-Upi'l"'5 itiûn

r
li ion m,.Lk(.
. - he more deformed. nnd as
whole'Ome me,1t comlPteth to r, Ie ,,-orm,
good orn.5 dll(
orde
COITUP intO:1 number of pt--ty obserYances. There. .;:
5Upe s.tition in amidin
upers irian when men hmk 0 do
bt.
t if the
- ro f:1rth
", ti'OUl the
'.lpel. '5- i.. .on formerly recei\-ed.;
.bt'l"e ore (\l!"e wo\ùd
be had. h'" (
" tà.reth in ill pur::- -n.;'\
the good be not t'1ken :1W..1Y with he b3d.J hich commonly -

doue when the people :.s. the:re ormer_

AXTITHETA OX
rPER
TITIOX.

&0.
"Qui pt.'-"\.":in Dt1D
.
am:aOOi t..
..r

.
d

C
'RA...

1; ,. . " ,.:mïJi
dd\Jnllit:steID Mi.;.
:," ." udo

_:b . .,

C'OID.

;1:1
.

:I' _

..-

. Prt..::

nu1bm

,.q

(>Iì)Il

. III .

I:t!

_\.x, \ T...\.. TIl

..)mt' U
ht.""
()rd
UI
.1"'Stition to denote ftll
- be "e . 'Th:i
tb
y hollt to
.. ah5.\:.l"d if thos4:.... who hold i e:m _.., t' no
.x-
p... us ion of ì .. 'or
8mpll'" Súme tàney ha h
h_.Ìr will
l\\.'t
'TOW well if ì bt.,. t'u: in tht"" '\Tan
0 he mOOD. B:::
....l-"_

..
.... :-- .:::\11.

í _'."

. "-...

s- -

15 0

Of Superstition.

[Essay xyii.

a notion, though it may be a groundless fancy, is not to be
called iu the strict sense, a superstition, unless it be connected
with some sort of religious reverence for some supposed super-
human agent. Neither is superstition (as it has been defined
by a popular though superficial writer) 'an excess of religion'
(at least in the ordinary sense of the ,vord excess), as if anyone
could have too much of true religion, but any rìlisdirection of
] eligious feeling; manifested either in showing religious venera.
tion or regard to objects which deserve none; that is, properly
speaking, the worship of false gods; or, in the assignment of
such a degree, or such a kind of religious veneration to any
object, as that object, though worthy of some reverence, does
not deserve; or in the ,vorship of the true God through the
llledium of improper rites and cerenlouies.
It ,vas the unsparing suppression of both those kinds of
superstition which constituted the distinguished and peculiar
merit of that upright and zealous prince, Hezekiah. fIe ,vas
not satisfied, like many other kiIlgs, with putting down that
branch of superstition which iu\
oIYes the breach of the first
Conlmandment-the setting up of false gods; but ,,,as equaHy
decisive in his reprobation of the other branch also-the \vorship
of the true God by the medium of prohibited cn1hlellls, and
.with unauthorized and superst.itious rites. Of the"le two kinds
of superstition, the latter is continually liable, in practice, to
slide into the former by such insensible degrees, that it is often
lIard to decide, in particular cases, wlte're the breach of the
second COlnmandment ends, aud that of the first begins. The
distinction is not, ho,veyer, for that reason useless; perhaps it is
eyen the more useful on that very account, and was for that
reason preserved, ill those two C0nlmalldn1ents, of which the
second serves as a kind of outwork to the first, to guard against
all gradual approaches to a violation of it-to keep men at a
distance from infringing the majesty of 'the jealous God.'
l\Iinds strongly predisposed to superstition, n1ay be compared
to heavy bodics just balanced on the verge of a precipice. The
slightcst touch will
end then1 o,-er, and. then, the greatest
exertion that can be luaùe may he insufficient to arrest their
fall.

E'
ay }.. "ii.]

Annotatiolls.

15 I

, Tile one is unbelil!f, thp other is conlulnely; and certainly
slfperstitioll is tile -reproach of the Dl!ity.'
Bacon might have said that both are unhelief; for, hc who
ra
hly gi,.es heed to superstitious delusions, errs not fl"om excess
of faith, but from want of faith; since what is true in hi"
beliet
he recei,'cs not because it is true,-but becausc it agrees
"ith some prejudice or fancy of his own; and he is right, when
he is right, only by chance. IIaving violatcd the spirit of the
fir:st COlnnlanclment, by regarding what is l1uman with the
ycneration due to that on]y which is di,.ine, his worship, e,
en
of the truc God, becomes an abomination. 'He has set up
iùols in hi
heart, and the Lord, the jealous God, will set IIi.s
face against that luan.'
And in reference to thi
contumcly of GoJ, it is a circum-
stance very remarkable, that, in many instances at least, super-
stition not only does not promote true religion, but eycn tends
to generate profaneness. In proof of the strange mixture of
s11perstitiOlJ aud profaneness that leads to the jokes and sallies
of wit that are frequently heard among the Spanish peasantry,
cvcn in respcct of the very objects of superstitious reverence,
I can cite the testimollJT of an eminently competent witness.
'.rhe like strange n1Ìxture is found in other Roman Catholic,
and also in Pagan countries, particularly among the I-lilltloos,
who are dcscribed as habitually reviling their gods in the
grossest ternls, on the occa
ion of any untoward cyent. _\.ncl
ill our own country nothing is so common a theule of profane
jests aUloug thc vulgar of all ranks as the De\-il; a large 1)1'0-
}Jortion of the supcrstition that exists being connected ll10re 01'
lcss with the agency of E viI
pirits.
'fhis curious anolnaly nlay perhap8 be, in a great measurp
at lca
t, accounted for, fronl the cOll
ideration, that as supersti-
tion Ï1nposcs a yoke rathcr of fear than of lo\"e, her votaries are
glad to lake revenge, as it were, when galled by this yoke, and
to illdernnify themselves ill
onle degree both for the irksome-
ne
s of theil' rc
traillts and tasks, and also for the degradation
(8onlc sen
e of which is always excited bv a consciousness of
sla,.ish drcad), by taking lib
rties when
'er they dare, either
in the way of iusult or of playfulnes
, "ith the objects of their
drcad.

15 2

Of SUpc,,"stition.

[Essay xvii.

But ho,v comes it that they ever do dare, as "\ve see is the
fact, to take these liberties? This will perhaps be eXplained
hy its being a characteristic of superstition to enjoin, and to
attribute efficacy to, the mere performance of some specific
outward acts,-the use of some Inaterial object, without any
loyal, affectionate devotion of heart being required to accompany
such acts, and to pervade the whole life as a ruling motive.
IIence, the rigid observance of the precise directions given,
leaves the votary secure, at ease in conscience, and at liberty,
as wen as in a disposition, to indulge in profaneness. In like
manner a patient, ,vho dares not refuse to s,vallow a nauseous
dose, and to confine himself to a strict regimen, yet who is
both vexed, and somewhat ashamed, at submitting to the
annoyallce, ,viII sometimes take his revenge as it were, by
abusive ridicule of the medical attendant and his doings;
knowing that this ,,,,ill not, so long as he does but take the
medicines, diminish their efficacy. Superstitious observances
are a kind of distasteful or disgusting remedy, which, howeyer,
is to operate if it be but swallowed, and on which accordingly
the votary sometimes ventures gladly to revenge himself. Thus
does superstition generate profaneness.

'As tlte conturneZy is greater towards God, so the danger 18
greater to.warrds men.'

It is somewhat strange that it should be necessary to remark
on the enorn1ity, the noxious character, of all superstition. The
mischiefs of superstition are, I conceive, much underrated. It
is by Inany regarded, not as any sin, but as a nlere harn1less
folly, at the "
orst ;-as, in some instances, an amiable ,veak-
ness, or even a salutary delusion. Its votaries are pitied, as
in some cases subjected to needless and painful restraints,
and undergoing groundless terrors ;-sometinles they are ridi-
culed as enslaved to absurd and puerile obser\-ances: but
,vhethcr pitied or laughed at, superstitious Christians are often
regarded as likely-at least as not the less likely,-on accollnt
of their superstition, to have secured the essentials of religion:
-as believing and practising ,vhat is needful towards salvation,
and as only carrying their faith and their practice, unneces-

E .. ]
.

ay XYll.

AllllotatiQllS.

153

sarily and unrcasonably, to the point of wcak credulity and
fooli::5h
cl'upulo
ity. This view of the suhject has a strong
tcndcncy to confirm the supcrstitious, and e\'en to add to their
11 111nber. They feel that if there is any doubt, they are surely
on the safe sidc. 'Supposing I a111 in error on this or that
point' (a man may say), , I anI luerely doing SOlllcthing super-
iluous; at the worst I suffer some telnporary inconvenience,
and perhaps have to cncountcr some ridicule; but if the error
be on thc othcr side, I risk 111Y salvation by embracing it; n1Y pre-
scut cour::5e therefore is cyidently the safest-I am, after all, on the
safe side.'-A.s if there were any safe side but the siùe of truth;
and as if it could be safc to manifest distrust of a skilful physician
hy cO:Jtbiaing with his n1eùicincs all the no
trums of all the
ignorant practitioners in the neighhourhood.
'IIow far the superstition of any indiyidual may be ex-
cusa.ùle or blan1caùle ill the sight of God, can be pronounced by
Ililll alone, \\ ho alou
is ahlc to estÎlnate each man's strength
or wcakn('
s, hiò opportunities of gaining kuowlcdge, and his
cInployul()ut or ncglcct of thosc opportunities. (But the
salHe luay be said of e,-cry other offence, as well as of those
in qucstion. Of superstition itself in all its yarious forms
and degrcc
, I cannot think otherwise than that it is not
l11ercly a folly to be ridiculed, but a mischief to be dreaded;
and that its tcndency is, ill most cases, as far as it extends,
df'structi\Te of true piety.
'The dispo
itioll to reverence some superhunlan Po,ver, ana
in some way or othcl' to endcavour to rcconln1cnd ourselves to
the fav01u' of that Power, is (more or less in different indiyiduals)
a natural and original sentiment of the human mind. The
great Encmy of
Ian finds it easier in most cases to n1Ísdirect,
than to cradicatc this. If an excrcisp for this religious senti-
mcnt can be providcd-if this natural cra,-ing aftcr diyine
wor
hip (if T nIay so spcak) can be satisfied-by the practice of
super
titious ceremonies, true l}icty win be n1uch more easily
cxtillgui
l!cd; the cOllscicnce will on this point have bccn set
at rc
t; God's place iu the heart will, as it wcrc, have been
pre-occupicd by an idol; and that genuine rcligion which
eOll
i
ts in a dc\'otedness of the affections to God, opcrating on
the inIIH'OYCluent of the moral character, will be lllorc cffectually

154

OJ Superstition.

[Essay xyii.

shut out, from the religious feelings of our nature haying
found another vent, and exhausted themselves on vanities of
man's devising.' 1
Too religious, in the proper sense of the word, we cannot be.
,,-r e cannot have the religious sentiments and principles too
strong, or too deeply fixed, if only they have a right object.
'Ye cannot love God too ,,-armly-or llonour Hinl too highly-
or strive to serve IIim too earnestly-or trust IIim too impli-
citly; because our duty is to love Him' 'with all our heart, and
all our soul, and all our mind, and all our strength.'
But too religious, in another sense, ,ve may, and are very
apt to be ;-that is, we are very apt to Inake for ourselves too
many objects of religious feeling.
Now, Almighty God has revcaled IIimself as the proper
object of religion-as the one only Power on whom we are to
feel ourselves continually dependent for all things, and the one
only Being 'whose favour we are continually to seek. A nd, lest
we should com!)lain that an Infinite Being is an object too
remote and incomprehensible for our minds to dwell upon, lIe
has manifested Himself in his Son, the Inan Jesus Christ, ,vhose
history and character are largely described to us in the gospels;
so that, to love, fear, honour, and serve Jesus Christ, is to loyc,
fcar, honour, and serve Ahnighty God; Jesus Christ being
'one .with the Father,' and 'all the fuilless of the Godhead'
dwelling in Hirn.
But as long as our characters are not like God's, and we are
un" illing to haye them made like his, ,ve are naturally ayerse
to being brought thus into immediate contact with IIim; and
".e shrink from holding (as it were) direct converse, or ' walking
,vith' God,-from making Ifim the object towards which our
thoughts and affections directly turn, and the person to ,,-horn
we come straight in our prayers, and in ,,,hose control and
presence ,ye feel oursclves at all times. IIence, men wish to
put bet" eCll thenlselyes and God some other less perfect Beings,
,vith whom they can be more familiar, and ,,'ho (they hope) will
'let them off" rnore easi1y, ,,-hen they sin, than He would.
N ow, indulging this disposition is not mercly adding to true
religion, but destroying, or goiug near to destroy it. For, when

1 Errors of Ronwnism, 3rd (!ùition, Essay i.
3, p. 3.... 3';.

E
say xrii.]

Annotations.

15.5

we havc once made for oursclves such ohjects of rcligious feel-
ing
, they arc objects so much marc suited to our corrupt nature
than God is, that we soon hegin to let IIim drop out of our
minds cntirely, whilst the inferior Powers eng-ross all our serious
worship. Thus the heathens, 'who began ,vith adding the "'01'-

hip of other deitics to that of the Suprcnle, ended with ceasing
to wor.5hip the Supreme at all. Nor does it luake so much
differcnce, as one might at fir:5t suppose, ,vbether "re think of
such inferior Beings as lords, having a direct control over us (as
the Pagan8 comnlonly did), or as ouly influencing the Supreme
through thcir favour with IIiIn; as the Greeks and Ronlan-
catholics comlllonly profe
s to think of the glorificd saints.
Because, ltc, frolll whom I expect happiness or misery, becomes
the uppernlost object in my mind, whcther he give or only procure
it. If an agent ha
slì.ch influence with the landlord, that the
agent's friends are sure of favour, and his foes are sure of hard
treaÌlncnt, it is the agent, and not the landlord, that the tenants
will think most about; though all his power comes rcally from the
landlord. IIcnce" e may
ce the danger of this kind of super-
stition, by which the hCaJ'Ì which should bc God's is forestalled,
as it were, by other objects.

, Atlzeisl1l did never perturb States.'

It may perhaps be inferred from this remark that Bacon
entcrtained an opinion, held by son1e, that pcrsons indifferent
about all rc1igions are the most likely to be tolcrant of all, and
to be aYcrse to pcrsrcutioll and coercion. But this is a Inis-
taken notion. )IallY per
OllS, indeed, perhaps most, are tole-
rant or intolerant according to their respective teJìzpers, and not
according to their principles. But as far as principles are con-
cerncd, certainly the latitudinarian i8 tlle lllore likely to he
intolerant, and the sincerely conscientious tolerant. A man
"ho i::; carclcss about rcligious sincerity ma
" clearly see and
apprc<,iate the political convcnience of religious uniforntity, and
if he ha:5 no religious seruple
of hi8 0" 11, he will not be the
luore likclv to be tcndcr of the relio-ious scru p les of others: if
w 0
he is ready hÏlnsclf to profess what he does not believe, he will
sce no rea
on why others should not do the san1e.
, :\lr. TIrydone mcntions in his Traycls thc case of an English-

15 6

OJ SUPlTstition.

[Essay xyii.

man "Tho attended nlass at a church in :K aplcs through curio-
sity (which I am far from justifying), and on the elevation of
the IIost, remained standing, ,Y}1Ïle those around knelt: for
this he was reproved by a gentlelnan near him, as a violation
of the rules of delicacy and good breeding, in thus shocking the
feelings of the congregation: he answered that he did not
belicve in the real presence; ,]\to
nore do I, sh",' .was the
reply; 'and yet you see I kneel.'
, N o 'V, 'without attempting to "indicate the conduct of the
Englishman (who 'was undcr no com pulsion to be prpsent at a
service in ,,,hich he scrupled to join), it may be remarked that
the Neapolitan, or ßlr. Brydone, would probably have been
disposed, if entrusted with the government of any country, to
c01Jlpel everyone's cOlnpliance, in all points, with whatever the
feelings of the people required; not only to kneel before the
Host, but to attend in processions the Ï1nage of St. J anuarius,
&c., if their omitting it would be likely to giye offence. The
plea of conscientious scruple they 'would not have understood.
'I do not believe so and so,' ,yould have been met by the ready
ans"
er, , No more do I; and yet I kneel.'l
, As the Protestant is often inclined to look no further than
to Romanism for the origin of persecution, so is the Infidel
to regard Christianity as the chief cause of it. But both are
mistaken. I alTI convinced that atheists, should they e'
er
become the predominant party, ,yould persecutc religion. For
it is to human nature we must trace both this and many other
of those evils which each man is usually disposed to attribute
to the particular systenl he is opposed to; and nearly the same
causes, which generate especial hostility towards those who
differ in faith from ourselves, ,yould be found to exist for the
atheists. They ,,'ould feel then1selves to be regarded by the
Christians, not indeed as weak and credulous, but as lJerversc
and profane: their confidence again in their own persuasion
,voldd be as likely to he shaken by the Christian, as the Chris-
tian's, by thenl: all the hlnnan passions, in short, and all the
vie,,-s of political cxpcdiency, 'which ha,'e ever tempted the
Christian to persecute, ,vonld have a corresponding operation
with them.

1 Xi/If/don't of Christ, EssaJ i.
13, page 59, 4th edition.

Essay x,-ii.]

AnnotatiUJi,
.

IS7

, Not that I conceive lUOst of theln to have, thclllselvcs, any
suspicion of this, or to be insincere in their profc8
ed alJhorrCllce
of persecution. ...\s no one wishes to persecute, so, they probably
do not anticipate (ulldcr the above-mentioned supposition) such
a state of things as would seenl to call for coercive measures.
rrhcy inlagine, probaùly, that when thcy had dcprived christian
milli
ters of endowmcnts, haù publicly proclailned the falsity of
th
christian faith, aud had taken measures for promoting
education, and circulating hooks calculatcd to enlighten the
peùple, the whole systcnl of religious bclief would gradually,
but specdily, die away, and bc regardcd in the same light with
tales of fairie:s. Such, doubtlcss, was the notion of some, whom
I ha,"e known to express regret that Buonaparte ùid not employ
the power he pos
csscd in confcrring so great a benefit on
society as he n1Íght have done, 'by abolishing Christianity.'
They were thinking, probably, of no more active nlPasures
than the withholding of the
upport and countenance of goverIl-
Inent.
'Ill such expectations, e'-ery onc who believes in Christianity
must fecI confident that they would be deceived. At first,
indeeù, appearances probably would be such as to promise
favonrably to thcir yiews. :For, rnost of those who profess
Christianity luerely for fashion's sake, or. in compliance ,,-ith
the laws of their country, would soon fall away; anù .would be
followed by many of such as ""anted firmness to support ridi-
culc, or the disfa\-our of those in po""er. But after a time the
progress of irreligion would be found to ha\Te conle to a stand.
'Yhen the plants' on the stony ground' had been all scorched
up, those' on the good soil' would be found still flourishing.
Sincere Christians would ren1ain firm; and tsOn1e probably
would be roused to eXCl't then1seh-es e\Ten with incrc3sed zeal;
aud SOllle apostates .would be reclaimed. Complaints would
theu be raised, that christian preachers decried, as profane and
lnischievous, the .works put forth by authority j anù that they
repre:scnted the rulers as aliens froB1 God, and 1110n whose
example should be shunned. Those indced who had imbibed the
true spirit of the Gospel, would not fail to inculcate, after th{'
exalnple of the Apostles, the duty of loyal submission, even to
unchri
tian magistrates; hut it is not unlikely that SOllle

15 8

Of Superstition.

[Essay xyii.

would even take a contrary course, and 'would thus help to
bring the imputation of sedition on christian preaching
uni versall y .
'The rabble again, would be likely occasionally to assail with
tumultuous insult and outrage) the Christians; who would in
consequence be represented by their enemies as occasioning
these tunlults; especially if, as is likely, some among thenl did
not submit patiently to such usage, or even partly provoked it
by indiscretion. And ho'wever free the generality of the Chris-
tians nlight be fl'onl any just suspicion of a design to resort to
lawless violence in the cause of their religion, still it would be
evident that a revival and rene,red diffusion of Christianity,
such as they ,vere furthering, nlust, after it should reach a
certain point, endanger the continuance of po"'er in the hands
then wielding it; and that such a change of rulers .would put a
stop to the plans ,vhich had been commenced for the ameliora-
tion of society. Represen tillg then, and regarding Christianity
as the great obstacle to improvenlent, as the fruitful source of
civil dissensions, and as involving disaffection to the thcu-
existing government, they ,yould see a necessity for actively
interfering, 'with a view (not indeed like religious persecutors,
to the salvation of souls, but) to the secular welfare of their
subjects, and the security and prosperity of the civil COD1-
munity. They ,vould feel thelIlselves accordingly (to say nothing
of any angry passions that might intrude) bound in duty to
IH'ohibit the books, the preaching, and the assemblies of Chris-
tians. The Christians ,vould then, in violation of the la,v,
circulate Bibles clandestinely, and hold their assemblies in
cellars, and on sequestered heaths. Coercion would of course
become necessary to repress these (as they 'would then be)
illegal acts. And next . . . . . but I need not proceed any
further; for I find I have been giving almost an exact descrip-
tion of the state of things when the christian Churches were
spreading in the midst of Heathenisln. And yet I have only
been following up the conjectlu'es, ,,-hich no one (belie\'ing in
Christianity) could fail to form, who was but tolerably acquainted
with human naturc. For' such transactions,' says the great
historian of Greece, 'take place, and always will take place
(though varied in form, and in degree of violence, by circnm-

Essay }.xii.]

All/LOfa/ioils.

159

stancc
), as long as lluJìlan nature rClnaills the same.' 1 Never
call W
be secured from the recurrcnce of the like, but by the
inlplantation of S0111C principle which is ahle to purify, to reuo-
,-atc, to COll\"Crt that nature; in short, to (CUE_\.TE THE XE'V
l\J.\.X .'2 Christianity, oftcn as its nalHe has been blazoned 011
the banners of thc persecutor-Christianity', truly under::;tooù,
as represented in the writings of its founders, and honestly
applied, flll'nishc
a !>l'c,-cntive-the only peJ
/ltaltellll!J effectual
prcvclltiye,-of the spirit of persccution. For, as with fraudu-
lent, so it is also with coercive, llleasures, employed in matters
pertaining to religion: "p must not expect that the generality
will be so far-sighted, as always to perceive their ultÏ1nate inex-
peùicncy in each particular case that luay occur; they will be
telupted to rcgard the peculiar circumstances of this or that
emcrgency as constituting an exception to the generall'ule, and
caUiug for a departure from the gcneral principle. 'Yhereas
the plaincst Christian, whcn he' has once ascertained, as he
easily lllay, if he lW/lestly consult the Scriptures, what the will
of God is, ill this point, will wall
boldly forward in the path of
his duty, though he may not see at eyery turn whither it is
leading him; and with full faith in the di,.ine wisdoll1, will
bc ready, in pious confidence, to leave events in the hands of
Providcl1cc.' J

, TILe lItaster of superstition is the people.'
Bacon has here shown that he percei,.ed what is too ii'e-
qucntly overlooked-the real origin of priestcraft. I take leave
to quote again from the Errors of Rorllani
nn. ' "
e are accus-
tomcd to hear much of priestcraft-of the subtle arts of
designing men, who imposed on thc simplicity of an ignorant
})eople, and persuaded them to bclie, e that they, the pl'icst5',
alone uucler
tood the nature of the Deity-the l))'opel' mode in
which to propitiate I-lim-and the mysterious doctrines to which
the othcrs were to give their impìicit assent; and the poor
dcl uded people are represcnted as prevailed on against their
bcttcr ju(lglnent, by the sophistry, and pron1Ïses, and threats of
these crafty impostors, to make tlteln the keepers of their con-

1 ThuCJd. ß. iii. c. 82.
Eph. iv. 24.
3 E:,
ay on
Persecution,' Jrd series.

160

Of Superstition.

[Essay xvii.

sciences-their mediators, and substitutes in the service of God,
and tl1eir despotic spiritual rulers.
(There is undoubtedly much truth in such a representation;
but it leaves on the mind an erroneous impression, because it is
(at the utmost) only half the truth.
(If, indeed, in any country, priests had been Beings of a
different species-or a distinct caste, as in some of the Pagan
nations where the priesthood is hereditary;-if this race had
been distinguished from the people by intellectual superiority
and moral depravity, and if the people had been sincerely de-
sirous of knowing, and serving, and obeying God for themselves,
but had been persuaded by these demons in hUlnan form that
this was in1possible, and that the laity n1ust trust tltenz to.
l)erforID what ,vas requisite, in their stead, and suhmit implicitly
to their guidan ce,-th en, indeed, there would be ground for
regarding priestcraft as altogether the ,york of the priests, and
in no degree of the people. But we should remember, that in
every age and country (e,Ten ",.here they were, as the Romish
priests ,rere not, a distinct caste), priests must have been mere
men, of like passions with their brethren; and though some-
times they might haye, on the ,vhole, a considerable intellectual
superiority, yet it must always have been in1possible to delude
men into the reception of such gross absurdities, if they had not
found in then1 a readiness-nay, a craving-for rlelusioll. The
reply ,rhich is }'ecorded of a ROlnish priest, is, (not in the sight
of God indeed, but) as far as regards any con1plaint on the
part of the laity, a satisfactory defence; when taxed with some
of the monstrous impostures of his Church, his answer "Tas,
'1'he people wish to be deceived; and let them be deceived.' I
Such, indeed, was the case of Aaron, and similar the defence he
offered, for making the Israelites an ilnage, at their desire. Let
it not be forgotten, that the fh'st recorded instance of departure
fronl purity of .worship, as established by the revelation to the
Israelites, "'as forced on the priest by the people.
(The truth is, mankind have an innate propensity, as to
other errors, so, to that of endeavouring to serve God by proxy;
-to con1mit to some distinct Order of men the care of thcir
religious concerns, in the same manner as they confide the care

1 'Populus vult decipi, ct dccipiatur.'

I
I
I
I
I
I
j

ay xyii.]

A/lnotatiof/s.

16J

of their bodily health to the physician, and of their legal
transactions to the lawycr; decming it sufficient to follow
Ï1nplicitly thcir dircction
, without attenlpting therllselves to
bccome acquailltcd with the mysteries of Inedicine or of law.
For
Iall, except whcn unusually depra,.cd, rctains enough of
thc ilnagc of his :J\Iaker, to have a natural reverence for reli-
gion, and a dcsire that God should be worshipped; but, through
the corruption of his nature, his hcart is (cxcept when divinely
purified) too much alicnated from God to take delight in
scrving IIiln. Hence the disposition men have e\rer shown, to
sub
titutc the dcvotion of the priest for thcir own; to leave the
duties of piety ill his hands, alul to let hiul senre God in their
stead. This disposition is not so much the consequence, as
itself the origin of priestcraft. rfhe Romish hierarchy did but
take a<hrantage from time to time of this natural propensity, by
cngrafting succes
i,.dy on its systenl such practices aud points
of doctrinc as fa,'ourecl it, and which were naturally convertcd
into a sonree of profit and influence to the priesthood. Hence
sprung-among other instances of what Bacon calls (the strata-
gCTI1S of I)rclatcs for their own anlhition and lucrc,'-the gradual
tl'all
fol'll1ation of the christian Ininister-the Presbyter-into
the sacrificing priest, the lIiercus (in Latin, ( sacerdos,' as the
Ronlanists call theirs) of the Jewish and Pagan religions.
lIence sprnng the doctrine of the necessity of Confession to a
priest, and of the efficacy of the Penance he enjoins, and of the
Absolution he 1)estows. rrhese corruptions crept in one by onc;
originating for the most part with an ignorant and depraved
people, but conniycd at, chcrishcd, con
ecrated, and successi,relr
cstablished, by a debàsed and worldly -minded 1Iinistry; and
nlodificd by them just so far as might best favour the views of
theil' secular amhitioll. The systelll thus gradually cOlnpactec1,
was not-like ::\Iaho111ctism-the deliberate coutl'iyance of a
designing inlpostor.
Iahonlct did indeed most artfully aCCOID-
JIlodate his systcln to l\lall's nature, but did not wait for the
gradua] and spontaneous operations of human nature to produce
it. He rearccl at once the standard of proselytism, and im-
posed on his followers a code of doctrines and laws ready
fraIncd for theil. reception. The tree which he planted did
indecd find a congenial soil; but he plantcd it at once with its
trunk full-formed anù its branches displaycd. The Romi
h
)1

162

Of Superstition.

[Essay xvii.

system, on the contrary, rose insensibly, like a young plant
froln the seed, nIaking a progress scarcely perceptible from year
to year, till at length it had fixed its root deel)ly in the soil,
and spread its baneful shade far around.

Infecunda quidem, sed læta et fortia surgunt,
Quippe solo nai Uï'a subest;'
it was the natural offspring of man's frail and corrupt character,
and it needed no sedulous culture. It had its source in human
passions, not checked and regulated by those who ought to have
bcen n1Ínisters of the Gospel, but who, on tIle contrary, were
ever ready to indulge and encourage nIen'
weakness and
,vickedness, pro\'id ed they could turn it to their own advantage.
The good seed' fell alnong thorus;' which being fostered by
those who should have been occupied in rooting them out, not
only' sprang up with it,' but finally choked and overpowered it.

, In all superstition wise 'inen folloîv fools; and Grgunzents {{'re
jitted to practice in a reverse order.'

'It is a mistake, and a very coronIon, and practically not
uninIpol'tant one, to conclude that the origin of each tenet or
practice is to be found in those arguments or texts which are
urged in support of it ;-that they furni
h the cause, on the
removal of which the effects ,,,ill cease of course; and that ,,,hen
once those reasonings are exploded, and those texts rightly
explained, all danger is at an end, of falling into similar errors.
, The fact is, that in a great number of instances, and by no
means exclusiyely in questions connected ,vith religion, tIle
erroneous belief or practice has arisen first, and the theory has
been devised afterwards for its support. Into whateyer opinions
or conduct 111en arc led by any Luman propensities, they seek
to defend and justify these by the best arguments they can
frame: and then, assigning (as they often do in perfect sincerity)
these argunlents as the cause of their adol)ting such notions,
they misdirect the course of our inquiry; and thus the chance
(however small it may be at any rate) of rectifying their errors
is diminished. For if these be in reality traceable to some
dcep-seated principlc of our nature, as soon as cyer one false
foundation on which they have been placcd is remoyed, another
will be substituted; as soon as one theory is proved untenable"

Es
ay "vii.]

Allilotatio17S.

16 1
:J

a ncw oue "ill be de,"iscd in its place. And in the mean time,
wc our:5ch"cs are liahle to be lullcll into a false security agaiu
t
crrorg who::5e real origin is to be
ought in the uuivcrsal pro-
pensities of hunlan nature.
Not olll\T Romanis111, but almost every system of superstition,
'"
in order to be rightly understood, should be (if I lnay so speak)
rcad backwarùs. rro take an instance, in illustration of what
has been said, from the mythological systelll of the ancieuts :
if we inquire why the rites of sepulture were regarded by then1
us of such '"ast inlportallce, "e are told that, according to their
systcm of rcligious belief, the souls of those whose bodies wcre
unhuried wcrc doo111cd to wander disconsol3.te on the banks of
the ri,-er Strx. Such a tenet, supposing it pre,"iously estab-
li
hea, was undoubtcdly well calculated to procluce or inercase
the feeling in qucstion; but is it not 11111Ch the nlore probable
supposition, that the natural anxiety about our mortal remains,
which ha
been felt in e'"cry _\ge and Country, and which many
partake of who are at a loss to explain and justify it, drove
thcu1 to itnagine and adopt the theory which ga,-e a rational
appearance to fcclillgs and practices already existing?

, And the same principle will apply to the greater part of the
ROll1ish errors; the cause assigned for eac>h of then1 will in
gencral be found to ùe in reality its effect,-the arguments by
,
hich it is supportcd, to haye gained curl'ency from men's par-
tiality for the conclusion. It is thus that ,ve lllust explain
what is at first &ight so great a paradox: the yast difference of
effect apparcntly produced in n1Índs of no contelllptible powers,
by the s:nne arguments,-the frequent inefficacy of the most
cogent reasonings,-anll thc hearty satisfaction" ith "\\hich tIle
1110st futile are often listcnecl to and adopted. K othing is in
gcncral easicr than to cOllyince one who is prepared and de-
sirous to bc con,-inccd; or to gain anyone's full approbation
of arguments tending to a conclusion he has already adopted;
or to refute triun1phantly in his eyes any objections brought
against ,,-hat he i::; unwilling to doubt. An argunlent which
shall have n1adc one conyert, or even . ettled one really doubt-
ing n1Ïl1d, though it is not of coursc necessarily a sou
d argn-
n1cnt, will have accoll1pli5lhed lllore than one which recei,"es thp
unhesitating assent and loud applause of thousands who hall
M 2

16 4

Of Superstition.

[Essay xvii.

already embraced, or "\Tere predi3posed to embrace, the con-
clusion.' 1
t It is of great practical importance to trace, as far as "'we
are able, each error to its real source. For instance, if we sup-
pose the doctrine of Transubstantiation to have in fact arisen
from the misinterpretation of the text, we shall expect to remove
the error by showing reasons ,vhy the passage should be under-
stood differcntly,-a very reasonable expectation, where the doc-
trine has sprung fr07n the 'J1z1sinterpl'etation, but quite otherwise
where, as in this case, the 'lnisinterpretation has sp'rung from the
doctrine. And that it has so sprung, besides the intrinsic im-
probability of men being led by the words in question to believe
in Transubstantiation, ,ve haye the additional proof that the
passage was before the eyes of the whole Christian ,yorld for
ten centuries before the doctrine was thought of.
t Another exemplification of this principle may be found in
the origin of the belief in ROlnish supremacy and infallibility.
This indeed had been gradually established before it ,vas dis-
tinctly claimed. l\Ien did not submit to the authority, because
they were convinced it was of di\Tine origin, and infallible; but
on the contrary, they were convinced of this, because they
,vere disposed and accustomed so to submit. The tendency
to t teach for doctrines the comn1andments of men,' and to
acquiesce in such teaching, is not the effect, but the cause, of
their bcing taken for the commandments of God.'2
t Tlte causes of superstition are-pleasing and sensual rites and
cerenzonies. . . . . . .'

t The attributing of some sacred efficacy to the performance
of an outward act, or the presence of some matt7'"ial obJect,
without any ÏInrard èevotion of the heart being required to ac-
company it, is one of the most prevailing characteristics of super-
stition. It is at least found, Inore or less in most species of it.
The tendency to disjoin religious observances (that is, .what are
intended to be such), from heartfelt and practical religion, is one
of the most besetting evils of our corrupt nature. Now, no one
can fail to perceive how opposite this is to true piety. Empty
forms not only supersede picty by standing in its place, but

1 Errors of Romauism, 3rd edition, Essay IV.
2, p. 186-189'
2 Ibid. pp. 192, 193.

E .. ]
's
ay X\ ll.

Annotations.

16 5

gl'
dual1y altcr the haùits of the min<l, and rcnùcr it unfit for
the c\.cl'cisc of gClluiuc pious
entÏ1nent. Even the natural
fooù of religion (if I Inay so spcak) is thus COIl' crtecl into its
poison. Our '9cry prayers, for exau1ple, and our perusal of the
holy Scril)tures, bcconle supersti
ious, in proportion as anyone
expects thcln to operate as a chann-attributing efficacy to the
lUcre worJs, while his feelings and thoughts are not occupied in
what he is doing. 1
(Evcl'Y l'eligious ceren10ny or exercisc, however well calcu-
latcd, in itsclf, to iUlprove the heart, is liable, as I have said,
thus to degenerate into a mere form, and consequently to
become superstitious: but in proportion as the outward obser-
vanccs are the rnorc complex and opcrose, and the more unlncan-
iug or unintelligiblc, the more dangcr is there of superstitiously
attaching a sort of nlagical cfficacy to the bare outward act,
iudcr)endcnt of mental dcvotion. 1(, for example, evcn our
I>rayers are liable, without constant watchfulness, to become a
supcrstitious fornI, by our ( honouring God with our lips, while
our heart is far from IIinl,' this rcsult is ahno.st unavoidable
'ïhcn the prayers are rcclted in an unknown tongue, and with
a prescribed nunlber of (vain repetitions,' crossillgs, and telling
of bcads. ....\.nd TIlen of a timorou8 n1ind, ha'Ting once taken up
a wrong notion of what religion consists in, seek a refuge from
doubt and anxiety, a substitute for inward piety, and, too often,
a compcnsatioll for an evil life, in an endless multiplication of
supcr:stitious ohservances ;-of pilgrimages, sprinklings with
holy watcr, ycneration of relics, and the like. Aud hence the
cnornlOUS accumulation of superstitions, which, in the course of
TIlany ccnturies, gradually arose in the Romish and Greek
Churchcs.'
But "cre there no such thing in existence as a corrupt
church, "e are not to suppose that we are safe fronl supersti-
tiOll. There are a great nlallY things which cannot be dis-
})cnscd, that, though not
upcrstitious in thcl1u
eh.cs, nlay be
abused into occasions of super
tition. Such arc the sacralllents j
}>ra)"cr; puhlic and pri, ate; ill
tructiollS from the nJÏnistcl's of
thc word; builùings and days set apart, either whol1)T or partlJ,
for thcse purposes. 'In a "ord-1\ here anything, not ill itself

1 See Essag-<;, (2nd serie
,) E

aJ. X., on Self-denial.

166

Of Superstition.

[Essay xvii.

llloral or religious, is connected with religion, superstition fastens
upon that, because it is ( worldly,' and lets the rest go. Thus, when
God's justice is described in Scripture as vengeance, to show us
that it pursues the offender as sternly as a revengeful man would
pursue his enemy, superstition fastens on the thought of God's
thirsting for 're'Venge, aud regards sin ouly as an offence which
l)rovokes in God a desire of inflicting pain on somebody. Again,
,vhen water, or bread and wine, are made signs of the power of
the Holy Spirit, or of Christ's body and blood sacrificed for us,
superstition fastens on the water, or the bread and "Tine, as if
they were the things thenH5clves. 'Yhen a place lnnst be set
apart for divine worship, superstition fancies that God dwells
in that place, rather than in the hearts of the worshippers.
\Vhen picture:-:; or images of }loly persons are set before us,
superstition fastens on the image as if jt ,,'ere the reality.
\Vhen rites and ceremonies are used to express our devotion,
superstition lnakes them our devotion. \Yhen l)rayel's haye to
be said, superstition nlakes the saying them, prayer. \Yhen
good hooks are to be perused, superstition 11lakes the peru:-:;al
edification. \Yhen ,yorks are to be done fì"oìJ
a good ruolive,
superstition makes the outward action the good works. \Yhen
sufferings for .righteousness' sake are C0111nlellded, superstition
takes the suffering for merit; and so in nlany other instances.
It seizes eyer on the out,vard-on that which is not moral;
on that which strikes the senses or the imagination-and
fastens there j ,,,hile true religion, on the contrary, calls on
us to 'lift up our heart' fronl the earthly to the heavenly, and
usc the oubyard as a help to the' inward.' '1

( Too great 'J"(;l
erence of traditions, oLYT-loadin[J tile Clrllrcll.'
It is extraordinary the readiness .with which many persons
acquiesce in tradition, and rest satisfied ,vith an appeal to
a standard in an respects so vague and uncertain. For,
besides the uncertainty of traditions which al"e rcceived in the
Church of l
onle, there is an additional uncertainty to each
individual l{oman Catholic,
()hat arc so received. If a
man when told, (Such is the tradition of the Church,'
should ask 'how did you leaI'll that?' It will be found, by

1 Cautionsfm" the Time8) Ko. V. 1'. 8 I.

i
I
i
I
I
I

ay xvii.]

Annotations.

16 7

pushing such inqun"lcs, that the priest learnt it from a book,
which l-lïJorls that something has heen reported by one of the
ancient fathers as having becll rl'jJoJ.ted to hiln as belicyed by
those "ho had heard it reported that the .A.postles taught it.
So that, to found faith on an appeal to such traditioll) is to base it
on the rl1Jort of a report of a report of a report. And, there-
fore, the discussions one S0l11ctinlCS lneets with, as to the' cre-
dibility of traditions' gcnerally, are as idle as llullle's respecting
the crellit due to testi/l1ony. One might as well inquire, , \Yhat
dcO'rcc of rco"ard should be P aid to books?' As common sense

0
would dictate in reply, '11 tud hook?' so also 'lrho
e tes-
timony?-what tradition?' As each particular testimony, and
each l>articular book, just so should each alleged tradition he
e
alnillcd on its own Inerits.
(rl'raditioll is not the interpreter of Scripture, but Scrip-
ture is the interpretcr of tradition. It is foolish to say that
trar1itioll is to be hcld to, rather than Scripture, because traùi-
tion ,,"a5 before Scripture' j since the Scriptures (that is, written
rccords) were llscd on pnrposc, after traditions had been tried, to
guard against the uncertainties of mere tradition. Scrip
ure is
the testj and yet lnany defclld oral tradition on the grcund that
we have the Scriptures then1sch.cs by tradition. 'Y ould they
think that, bccause they could trust most servants to deliver a
letter, however long or Ï1nportant, therefore they could trust
thcm to deliver its contents in a message hy word of mouth

Take a failliliar case. A footnuLu brings you a letter from a
fricnd, upon "hose word you can perfectly rely, giving an
account of something that has happened to himself, and the
e\:act account of which you are greatly concerncd to know.
\Vhile you are reading and answering the letter, the footman
goes into thc kitchen, and there gives your cook an account of
the
alne thing j ,,-hich, he says, he o\Terheard the upper ser,-ants
at horne talking over, as related to them by the yalet J who said
he had it from your friend's son's o,,"n lips. The cook relate:s
the story to your grool11, and he, in turn, tells you. \Y ould
you judge of that story by the letter, or the letter by the

tory (H
,V ell n1Ïght Eacon speak of the ' oyer-loading' b) tradition,

1 Cautionsfor t!te Times, 1st eùition, Xo. XI. pp.
O, 2 I.

168

Of Superstition.

[Essay xvii.

for it does over-load, "hether-according to the pretended dis-
tinction-it be made co-ordinate with, or subordinate to, Scrip-
ture. To make these countless traditions the sub.
titute for
Scripture by offering them to the people as proofs of doctrine,
is son1ething like offering to pay a large bill of exchange in
farthings, ,vhich, )Ton Inlow, it would be intolerably trouble-
SOIne to count or carry. And tradition ,,'hen made subordinate
to, and dependent on, Scripture, is made so muC'h in the same
way that some parasite l)lants are dependent on the trees that
support them. The parasite at first clings to, and rests on, the
tree, which it gradually overspreads with its own foliage, till
by little and little, it weakens and completely smothers it.

,
Iiraturque novas frondes, et non sua poma.'

But, ,vith regard to this distinction attempted to be set up
between co-ordinate and subordinate tradition, it is to be
observed, that, 'if any human comment or interpretation is to
be received implicitly and without appeal, it is placed prac-
ticaHy, as far as relates to everything except a mere question
of dignity, on a level with Scripture. Among the Parliamenta-
rians at the time of the Civil ",-r aI', there were many-at first a
great majority-,vho professed to obey the I(ing's commands,
as notified to tltenz by Parlianlen!, and levied forces in the I(ing's
name, against his person. If anyone adn1Ïtted Parliament to
be the sole and authoritative interpreter and expounder of the
regal commands, and this 'without any check from any other
power, it is l)lain that he virtually admitted the sovereignty of
that Parliament, just as much as if he had recognized their
formal deposition of the I(ing.'l

, Tlte taking ai'ìn at divine rnatters by human.'

The desire of prying into mysteries relative to the invisible
world, but which have no connection with practice, is a charac-
teristic of hU111an nature, and to it may be traced the inlmense
mass of presurnptuous speculations about things unrevealcd,
respecting God and his designs, and his decrees, , sccret to US,'2 as
w cll as all the idle lcgends of various kinds respecting wonder-
.working saints, &c. The sanction afforded to these by persons who

1 Kia!Jdom of c'i,'isl, 4th eLlitivn, E:
..ay II.
26, p. 216.

2 See 17th Artie :e.

ay x\'ii.]

Annotations.

]69

did not thC111"c1vcs hclicvc them, sprang from a dishonest pursuit
of the expcdicnt rathcr thau thc tl'UP; but it is prohahl
that th('
fat" greatcr part of such idle tales had not their origin in any dccp
au<1 politic contrivance, but in nlcn's natural pa

ion for what i

Illal'Vc1l0tl
, aud rcadine
s to catcr for that passion in each othcr;
-in thc ullivcrsal fondncss of the l11unan rnilld for spcculative
knowlcdge re:s!)ccting things curious and things hidden, rathcr
than (what alone the Scriptures supply) practical knowledge
J.cSpCCtillg things .which have a rcfcrence to our wants. It was
thus the
illiplieity of the' Go
pel was corruptcd hy 'mixture of
inlaginations.' "-hCll the illun1Ïnation from IIeavcn-the rays
of revelation-failcd to shcd the full light men desired, they
hrought tu the dial-plate the lalnp of human philosophy.

, Jlen think to do best if they !Jo flirtlwst fr01n tILe superstition
forull rly receh'ed; tlwrefore caj g e UJould be had t!tat the good
be /lut taken away with tile bad.'

Thcre is a natural tcnòcncy to 'lnistake reverse of right for
wrong.' It is not enough, thereforc, to act upon the trite
fmniliar rule of guarding cspcciaUy Hgainst the error which on
r:lch occa
ion, or in each place, you find men especially liable
to; but you 11lUst renlenl hcr, at the san1e tinIe, this other
caution, not less Ílnportant and far lllore likely to be ovcrlooked
-to guard against a tcndency to a reaction-against the prone-
ness to rush froln one extreme into the opposite.
Onc cau
e of this is, that a painful and odious as
ociation is
!"onlctilncs formcù in n1ell's 111Ï.nds with anything at all connected
with that fron1 which they have suffered much; and thus they
are lcd to reject the good and the cvil together. This is
figured in the Tale of a Tub, by Jack's eagcrne
s to be 'as
unlike that rogue Pctcr as pos
ible;' and he accordillgly tears
off the tail of his coat, and flings it away, because it haù becll
oycrlaid with lacc.
, Since ahnost every erroncous systcln contains truth blended
with fabchood, hcncc its tcndcncy usually is, fir:,t, to I'ccol1llnelld
the falsehood on account of the truth combincd with it and
,
aftCf\\ ards, to bring the truth into conten1pt ur odiu111 on
account of the intcrmixture of falsehood.
C In no point is thc record of pa
t tÏ1nes more instructivc to

17 0

Of Supc'rstition.

[Essay xvii.

those capable of learning from other experience than their own,
than in what relates to the history of reactions.
(It has becn often remarked by geographers that a riyer
flo-wing through a lcyel country of soft alluvial soil never keeps
a straight course, but ,vinds regularly to and fro, in the fornl of
the letter S many times repeated. And a geographer, on
looking at the course of any strealll as nlarked on a nlap, can
at once tell ,,,hether it flows along a plain (like the ri,-er Meander,
'whieh has given its name to such "indings) or through a rocky
and hilly country. It is found, indecd, that if a straight
channel be cut for any stream in a plain con
isting of tolerably
soft soil, it never will long continue straight, unless artificially
kept so, but becomes crooked, and increases its ,,-indings more
and more every year. The cause is, that any little wearing
a,vay of the bank in the softest part of the soil, on one side,
occasions a set of the stream against this hollow, which increases
it, and at the same tillle dri,.es the water aslant against the
opposite bank a little lower down. This wears away that bank
also; and thus the stream is again driven against a part of the
first bank, still lower ; and so on, till by the ,,-earing a,vay of the.
banks at these points on each side, and the deposit of mud
(gradually beconling dry land) in the comparatively still water
between them, the course of the streanl beco1l1es sinuous, and
its windings increase more and more.
And even thus, in human affairs, ,,-e find alternate Inovements,
in nearly opposite directions, taking place fronl time to tÏ1ne,
and generally bearing sonIe proportion to each other in respect
of the violence of each; even as the highest flood-tide is suc-
ceeded by the lowest ebb.
'Ve find -in the case of political affairs,-that the most
ser,-ile submission to privileged classes, and the grossest abuses
of power by these, have been the precursors of the wildest
ebullitions of popular fury,-of the overthrow indiscriminately
of ancient institutions, good and bad,-and of the nlost turbulcllt
dClllocracy; generally proportioned, in its cxtra'"agance and
violence, to the degree of pre,-ious ol)prcssion and pre,?ious
degradation. And again, ,,-e fiud that whenever n1en have
become heartily ,,'earied of licentious anarchy, their eagerness
has been proportionably great to embrace the opposite extreme

I :. .. ]

say }.. Yll.

Annotations.

]7 1

of rigorous des!Jotism; like shipwrccI
cd mal ' iners clinging to a
bare and rl1ggcd t'ock as a refuge from the waves.
, ..And wheu we look to thc history of 1"eli9ioll.
changes, the
prospect is sitnilar. The formalism, the superstition, and the
priest craft "hieh prcvailed for so Inany ages throughout Chris-
teudoln, Icd J in InallY instances, by a natural reaction, to the
wildc
t irregularities of fanatici
In or pl'ofancncss. ",y c find
antinon1Ïan liccntiousncss in sOlnc instances the SUCCCSSOl' of the
pr('tcndcd nlcrit of .what wcre callcd 'good .works j' ill others,
the rejcction altogethcr of the christian Sacraments succeeding
the supcr
titious ahuse of thcln; the legitinlate clailns of every
vi:-;ihle Church uttcr1y disowned by the dcscendants of those
who had groancd undcr a spiritual tyranny; pretensions to
indi,'idual personal ill
pifation set up by those who had revolted
froln that tyranny; aud in short, every varicty of cxtravagance
that" as Blast cOlltrastcd with thc excesses and abuscs that had
bt'fòre prc,"ailcd.'

,,-r C cannot, then, be too mudl on our guard against re-
actiolls, lest we rush f.'om one fault into another contrary fault.
'Ye should remenlhcr also t1lat an adllli
ture of truth \\ ith error
has a doublc danger: some adn1Ït both together; others reject
hath. And hence, nothing is harnlless that is mistaken either
for a truth or for a virtue.
In no point, we lnay he assured, is our spiritual enemy more
,igilallt. lIe is eycr ready not merely to tempt us with the
uumixcd poison of known sin, but to corrupt even our food, and
to taint even our medicine with the vcnOln of his falsehood.
_For religion is the luedicine of the soul; it is the designed and
appropriate prcyentive and rcnlCdy for the eyils of our nature.
'rhe
uùtlc TClllptcr well knows that no other al1urements to sin
would be of Inuch a\-aiJ, if this Hledicine were a
siduousJy
applied, and applied in unadulterated purity; auc} he knows
that
upcrstition is the Rpecific poison which may be the most
('a
ily hlendcd with true rc1igion, and .whieh will the most COlll-
plctclv destroy its efficacy.

. .
It is for us then to take heed that the 'licrht which is in us
ð
he not darkncss;' that our religion be kept pure from the
no
ious adnlÍ
turc of superstition; and it is for us to absenTe

17 2

Of Superstition.

[Essay xyii.

the errors of others with a view to our own correction, and to
our own preseryation, instead of contenlplating (the mote that
is in our brother's eye, ,,,hile ,ve behold not the beam that is in
our own eye.' Our conscience, if ,ve carefully regulate, and
diligently consult it, .will be ready, after we have seen and COli-
demned (which is no hard task) the faults of our neighbour, to
furnish us (where there is neeù) with that salutary admonition
,'rhich the self-blinded I(ing of Israel received from the mouth
of the Prophet, (Thou art the man.'

ESS1\ Y X'TIII. OF TIt...\. VEL.

T R.A ,rEL, in the younger sort, is a part of education; in
the cIder, a part of cxpcricnce. lIe that travclleth into a
country, bcfore he hath SOlliC entrance into the language, goetl)
to school, and not to travel. 'l'hat young men travel under
SODIe tutor, or grave
ervaut, I allow. well; so that he be such
a one that 11ath the language, and llath bcen in thc country
before; whereby he may he able to tcll thcnl what things arc
worthy to be seen in the country" here they go, ,,'hat acq uaint-
anrcs they arc to seck, what exercises or discipline the place
yicldeth; for clsc young n1cn
hall go hooc1cù, and look abroad
littlc. It is a strange thing that, in sea voyages, where there
is nothing to he secn hut sky and sca, nlcn shoulù make diarics;
but in land-travcl, wherein so Inuch is to be obser,'ed, for the
Ino
t part they ontit it-as if chance wcre fittcr to bc registered
than oh
cl'\'ation : let diaries, therefore, be brought in use. The
thing
to be seen and observcd are the courts of princes, espc-
cially "hcn they gi\re audicnce to ambassadors; the courts of
justice, while thcy sit anù hear causes; and so of consistories
ecclcsiastic; the churches and monasteries, "ith the monuments
which arc thercin cxtant; the wans nnd fortifications of citics and
towll
; ana 80 the havcns and harbour
, antiquities and ruins,
lihrarics, collegcs, disputations and lectures, 'where any are;
shipping aud navies; houses and gardens of state and plcasure
ncar great citics; armories, arsenals, magazines, exchanges,
hursr s ,2 warehouses, exercises of horsenlanship, fencing, train-
ing of soldicrs, and thc like; comedics, such whcrcunto the
hctter sort of persons do rcsort; treasurics of je,vels and robes;
caùinets aud rarities; and, to conclude, whatsoeycr is memo-
rahle in the places where thcy go-after all which, the tutor

or
('rYallts ought to nlakc diligent inquiry. As for triumphs, 3

· _\llow. Approve. C The Lord allou'eth the righteous.'-Psalms.
2 Burse. E.rchallge; bourse. (So called from the sign of a pnrse bping ancient1 \"
set over the places where merchants met.) C Fraternities and companies 1 appro\.c
of, such 3.i merchants' b'ltrses/-Burlon.
3 l'riumphs. Public shows of an!! kina.
C Hold those justs and triumplls.' -Shakespe-re.

174

Of Travel.

[Essay xviii.

masks, feasts, ,veddings, funerals, capital executions, and such
8ho".s, men need not be put in n1illd of theln; yet they are not
to be neglected. If you .will have a young man to IJut his travel
into a little room, and in short till1e to gathcr Hluch, this you
must do: first, as ,vas said, he must haye some entrance into
the language before he goeth; then he must have such a ser-
vant, or tutor, as knoweth the country, as ,vas likewise said;
let hin1 carry ,vith him also some card, or book, descril)ing the
country 'Y]lere he travelleth, ".hich ,vill be a good key to his
inquiry; let hin1 keep also a diary; let hirn not stay long in
one city or town, more or less as the place deserveth, but not
long; nay, ,,,,hen he stayeth in one city or town, let hitn change
his lodging from one end and part of the town to another,
'which is a great adamane of acquaintance; let hiln sequester
himsclf from the con1pany of his countrymen, and diet in such
places ,vhere there is good company of the nation ,,,,here he
travelleth; let him, upon his removes from one place to another,
procure recommendation to some person of quality residing in
the place ,vhither he removeth, that he may use his favour in
those things he desireth to see or kno,v; thus he lnay abridge
his travel with much profit. 1\.s for the acquaintance which is
to be sought in travel, that which is most of all ])rofitable, is,
acquaintance \vith the secretaries, and en1ployed Inen of anlbas-
sadors; for so in travelling in one country he shall suck the
experience of many. Let him also see and yisit eminent persons
in all kinds, which are of great name abroad, that he may be
able to tell ho\v the life ag-reeth ,vith the fame; for quarrels,
they are with care and discretion to be avoided-they are com-
monly for mistresses, healths, place, and words: and let a man
be,vare ho\v he keepeth con1pany ,vith choleric and quarrelson1e
persons, for they ,viII engage hin1 into
their own quarrels.
\Vhen a traveller returneth honle, let hÍln not lea,'e the COUll-
tries where he hath travelled altogether behind him, but main-
tain a correspondence by letters with those of his acquaintance
which ai
e of most worth; and let his travel appear rather in his
discourse, than in his apparel or gesture; and in his discourse

1 Adamant. For loadstone.
, Yon drew me, you hard-hearted adamant.' -Slwkespe'1.e.
2 Into. In. 'How much more may educc.ltion inùuce by custom good haùits
info a reasonable creature.'-Locke.

E
say
viii.]

A lnotalio/is.

175

let hilu be rathcr adviscd in his answers, than forward to ten
8torics: allù let it appear that he <loth not change his country
nlanncrs for those of fOl'ci
n parts, hut only prick in SOlne
flower::; of thae he hath lcarned abroad into the customs of his
0\\ 11 country.

A:KKOTArrIOXS.

( 1ì'at:el ill tile younger 80rt is a part of education; 'tn tlte eldel'
a part of eJ-'periellce.'
The well-kuo" n talc for young people, in the Evenings at
llome, of c Eye
and no Eyes,' rnight be applied to D1any
travellers of oppo
ite habits.
But there are, Inoreover, not a fcw who may be said to he
(one-cyed' travcllers; "ho sce a grcat dcal of some particular
cla:--
of ohjects, aud are blind to all others. One, for example,
"ill ha\ e Iucrcly the eye of a ]andscapc-painter; another, of a
geologist, or a botanist; another, of a politician; and so on.
And the way in which some men's views are in this .way
linlited, is sometimcs very whimsical. For instance-A. B. was
a Ulan of :::,upcrior intclligencc and extensive reading, espeC"'ially
in allcicnt history, which was his favoul'ite study. lIe travelled
on the Continent, and espccially in Italy, "ith an eager desire
to verify the localities of celebrated battles and other transac-
tion
recordcd by the Grcek and l-toman historians: and he suc-
ceeded a(hnirahly ill fixing on the exact spot of alnlost every
feat !)CrfOrnlcd by IIaullibal. Alid when these researches, in
cach place, were complptcd, he hurried away without haying, or
scckillg, any intercourse with any of the people 1l0\V inhabiting
Italy, or thinking it worth" hile to make any inquiries as to
their character and social condition; having set out with the
conviction that they wcrc, and ever must be, quite unworthy of
notice; and Ìla\ ing, of course, left Italy with the same opinion
on that point, with which he entered it, knowing as much of its
illhabitalltb as of those in the interior of .Africa; ouly, with the
difference that, conccrning the Jatter, he was au'aì.e of his own
ignorance, and had fornlcd no opinion at all.

1 Th:lt. 1rlwt; that 'll'lticll.
ee lmgc 59.

17 6

Of Travel.

[Essay xviii.

And tra\.ellers, ,vho do scek for knowlcdge on any point, are
to be ,varned against hasty induction and rash generalization,
and consequent pl'CSUn1ptuous conclusions. For instance, a
lady ,yho had passed six weeks in J arnaica, in the house of a
friend, whom s11e described as eminently beneyolent, and remark-
ably kind to his slaves, spoke "Tith scorn of any onc who had
been in the "rest Indies, and who doubted whether slaves were
always ,veIl treated. And Goldsn1ith, who had travelled on the
Continent, decided that the higher classes were better off in
republics, hut the lower classes in absolute monarchies. IIad
he lived a few years longer he might have seen the French
populace, goaded to Inadness by their iutense misery under the
monarchy, rushing into that awful Revolution.
During the short reign of Louis the Eighteenth, at his first
restoration, a letter ,,-as received (by a person who afterwards
l'egretted not having kept it as a curious document) from the
nephe\v of one of our then ministers, saying that all thc tra-
veHers from France with whom he had conversed agrced in the
conviction that the Bourbon GO\Ternment .was firmly fixed, and
"Tas daily gaining strength. The letter ,yas dated on the very
day that Buonaparte 'was sailing from Elba! And in a few
days after the Bourbons were expelled without a strugglc.
rrhose travellers must surely have belonged to the class of the
one-eyed.
Often, again, it happens that a man secks, and obtains, much
intercourse with the people of the country in which he travcls,
but falls in ,vith only one particular set, 'whom he takes for
representatives of the whole nation. Accordingly, to Bacon's
adn1onition ahout procuring letters of introduction, ,re should
add a caution as to the point of 'froln 'lOh01Jl?' or else the tra-
veller n1ay be consigned, as it ,vel e, to persons of some particular
party, who will forward him to others, of their own party, in
the next city, and so on through the chief part of Europe. And
t\VO persons ,,,bo n1ay }1ave been thus treated, by those of
Ol)posite parties, may perhaps return from corresponding tours
with as opposite impressions of the people of the countries they
haye visited, as the knights in the fable) of whom one had seen
only the silver side of the shield, and the other only the golden.
Eoth will perhaps record quite faithfuIJy all they have seen
and heard j and one "Till bayc reported a certain nation as full

Essay x\ iii.]

AnlZota/iolls.

177

of miscry and complaint, and ripe for revolt, when the other
has found thcm prosperous, sanguine, and enthusiastically
loyal.
In the days when travelling by post-chaise 'was common,
thcre were usually ccrtain lines of inns on all the principal
roads; a series of good, and a series of inferior ones, each in
cOIlncxion all the ,,'ay along; so that if you once got into the
,vorse line, you could not easily get out of it to the journey's
end. The' 'Yhitc IIart' of one town would drive you-almost
literally-to the '",Yhite Lion' of the next; and so on all the
way, so that of t\\U travel1ers by post from J"jondon to Exeter
or York, the one would ha\-e had nothing but bad hor
es, bad
dinners, and baù beds, and the other, vcry good. This is analo-
gous to what befalls a traveller in any new country, with respect
to the imprc

ions he reccives, if he falia into the hands of a
party. They consign hÌ1n, as it wcre, to those aUicd with thenl,
and pa
s hinl on, ii'om Olle to another, all in the same con-
nexion, cach showing him and telling him just what suits the
party, and concealing from him everything else.
This is nowhere more the case than in Ireland; from a tour
in whieh two travellers will son1etirnes return, each faithfully
reporting what he has seen and heard, and haying been told
perhaps nothing 'more than the truth on any point, but only Olle
side of the truth; and the impressions receivcd will be perhaps
quite opposite. The Irish jaunting-car, in which the passengers
sit hack to back, is a sort of type of what befalls many tourists
ill Ireland. Each sees a great deal, and reports faithfully what
he has seen, one on one side of the road, and the other on the
other. One will have seen all that is g)'et:Jl" and the other, all
that is ol.allge.

ESSAY XIX. OF E
IPIRE.

I T is a miserable state of mind to have few things to desire,
and many things to fear; and yet that commonly is the case
with kings, ,vho being at the highest, 'want matter of desire,
which makes their mind
more languishing, and have many
representations of perils and shadows, which make their minds
the less clear: and this is one reason also of that effect which
the Scripture speakpth of, C That the king's heart is inscrutable;' I
for multitude of jealousies, and lack of some predominant desire,
that should marshal and put in order all the rest, maketh any
man's heart hard to find or sound. I-Ience it comes likewise,
that princes many times make themselves desires, and set their
hearts upon toys; sometimes upon a building; sometimes upon
erecting of an Order; sometimes upon the advancing of a
person; sometimes upon obtaining excellency in some art, or
feat of the hand-as Nero for playing on the harp; Domitian
for certainty of the hand with the arrow j Commodus for play-
ing at fence; Caracalla for driving chariots; and the like. This
seclneth incredible unto tho
e that know not the principle, that
the mind of l\Ian is more cheered and refreshed by profiting in
small things, than by standing at a st ay 2 in great. 'Ve see also
that kings that have been fortunate conquerors in their first
years, it being not possible for them to go forward infinitely,
but that they n1ust have some check or arrest in their fortunes,
turn in their latter years to be superstitious and melancholy; as
did Alexander the Great, Dioclesian, and in our memory
Charles ,r., and others; for he that is used to go forward, and
filldeth a stop, falleth out of hi8 o'wn favour, and is not the
thing he was.
To speak no\v of the true temper 3 of empire, it is a thing
rare and hard to keep, for both temper and distemper consist
of contraries; but it is one thing to mingle contraries, another

1 Provo xxv. 3,
2 Stand at a stay. To stand still; not to advance. 'Affairs of state seemed
rather to stand at a stay than to advance or decline.'-Hayward.
3 Temper. Due balance of qualities. '&alth itself is but a kind of tempej.,
gotten and preserved by a convenient mixture of contrarieties.'-Arb
dhrwt.
I Between two blades, which bears the better temper ?'-Sltakespere.

I
I
I
I
I

Essay xix.]

Of ElIlpÜ'e.

Ii9

to intcrchangc thenl. The answer of .A.pollonius to ,r espasian
is full of excellent instruction. Vespasian asked hinl, "VLat
.was X cro's oyerthrow'(' lie answered, , Nero could touch and
tunc the harp wcll, ùut in government sometime.3 he used to
wind the pins too high, sOlnetill1CS to let thenl down too low j' 1
and ccrtain it is, that nothing dcstt'oyeth authority so n1uch as
the uneqnal and untimely interchange, of power pressed too far,
and relaxcd too 111uch.
This is true, that the wisc10nl of all these latter tinles in princes'
affairs, is rathcr fine deliveries, and shiftings of <langel's and
mischiefs, when they are near, than solid and groundeù courses
to kcel' thcm aloof; but this is but to try masteries with fortune;
and let men bcware how they neglect anc1 suffer matter of
trouble to be prepared; for no man can forbid the spark, nor
tell whence it may come. The difficulties in princes' business
are many and great, but the greatest difficulty is often in their
0\\ n n1Ïnd; for it is COllnl1OU "ith princes (saith Tacitus) to will
contradictorics: ' Suut plCl'1.Ullque l'egum yoluntates vehemelltes,
et inter se contrariæ.'2 For it is the solecism of power to
think to COilllIland the end, and yet not to endure the nlean. 3
I
ings hare to deal with their neighbolu's, their wives, their
children, their prelates or clergy, their nobles, their second
nobles or gentlemen, their merchants, their commons, and their
men of war;4 and fronl all these arise dangers, if care and cir-
cumspection be not used.
First, for their lleighbours, there can no general rule be
gi'"Cll (the occasions are so variable), save one .which ever
holùeth-\\ hich is, that princes do keep due sentinel, that none
of their llcighbours do overgrow bO (by increase of territory, by
embracing of trade, by approaches, or the like), asS they become
morc able to annoy thenl than they were; and this is generally
the work of standing councils to foresee and to hinder it.
During that triulnviratc of kings, I(ing IIenry'TIll. of England,

1 Phi1ost. Tît. Apoll. T!la1
. v. 28.
2 C The will of kings is, for the most part, vehement and inconsistent.' -Sallust,
B. J. I 13. (
ot Tacitus.)
3 :Mean. Means. C The virtuous com"ersation ofCl1ristians was a mean to work
the conversion of the heathen to Christ.'-Hooker.
. 4 Men of war (now only applied to ships). TVan--iors; soldiers. 'And Saul set
hnn over the 1ne/
of .war.'-I Sam. xviii. 5.
5 ...-\.s. That.
ce page 22.

N Z

]80

Of EJJlpire.

[Essay xix.

Francis I., king of France, and Charles 'T., emperor, there ,ras
such a 'watch kept that none of the three could win a palm 1 of
ground, but the other two would straightways2 balance it, either
by confederation, or, if need 'Were, by a war, and would not in
any wise take up peace at interest; and the like was done by
that league (,rhich Guicciardine saith was the security of Italy),
made between Ferdinando, king of Naples, Lorenzius l\Iedices,
and Ludovicus Sforsa, potentates, the one of }'lol'ence, the other
of 1\Iilan. N either is the opinion of some of the school men to
be received, that a war cannot justly be made, but upon a l)re-
cedent 3 injury or provocation; for there is no question but a
just fear of an imminent danger, though there be no blow
given, is a lawful cause of war.
For their wives, there are cruel examples of them. Livia
is infamed 4 for the poisoning of her husband; Roxolana, Soly-
man's wífe, was the destruction of that reno,vned prince, Sultan

Iustapha, and otherwise troubled his house and succession;
Edward II. of England's queen had the principal hand in the
deposing and murder of her husband. This kind of danger is
then to be feared chiefly when the ,vives have plots for the
raising of their own children, or else that they be ad\'outresses. 5
For their children, the tragedies like,vise of dangers from
them have been lnany; and generally the entering of the
fathers into suspicion of thcir children hath been ever unfor-
tunate. The destruction of l\fustapha (that we named before)
\vas so fatal to Solyman's line, as the succession of the Turk

from SolYlnan until this day is suspected to be untrue, and of
strange blood, for that Selynlus II.
'as thought to be supposi-
titious. The destruction of Crispus, a young Pl'ince of rare

1 Palm. Hand's breadth. 'The palm or band's breadth, is a twenty-fourth
])art of the stature.'-Holder.
2 Straightways. Immediatel
1J.

Like to a ship that having 'scap'd a tempest,
Is straightway claim'd and boarded with a pirate.'-Shakespere.
3 Precedent. Preceding.

, Do it at once,
Or thy precedent services are all
But accidents unpurposed.' - Shakespere.
"Infamed. Infamous. '\
{hosoever for any offence be infamed, by their ears
hang ring-s of gold.'-Sir T. More.
S Advoutress. Adulteress. (So called from breach of the marriage-vow.)
ç In advoutry
God's commandments break.'-Sot2g, 1550.

E3say xix.]

Of Empire.

181

towardness/ by Constalltinus thc Great, his father, was in like
nlallllcr fatal to hi:5 housc, for hoth Con'Stalltinus and Constance,
his sons, dicd violent deaths; and Constantius, his other son,
did little better, who died indecd of sickness, but after that
J ulianus Ilad takcn arnlS agaiwst him. The destruction of
Demetrius, son to Philip II. of l\Iacedon, turned upon the
father, who died of repcntance: and many like exalnplcs there
are, but few or none where the fathers had good by sUf>h
distrust, cxccpt it "ere where the sons were in open arms
against them, as was Selymus I. against Bajazet, and the three-
sons of IIeury II., king of England.
For thcir prelates, when they are proud and great, there is
also dangel' frotH then1; as it was in the times of Anselmus and
Tho111aS TIeckett, archbishops of Canterbury, who, with their
crosiers, did ahnost try it with the lÜng's sword; and yet they
had to dcal with stout and haughty kings - 'Yilliam Rufus,
Hcnry I., and IIenry II. The danger is not fron1 that estate, 2
hut where it hath a dependcnce of foreign authority, or where
tbe churchmcn come in and are elected, not by the collation of
the king, or particular patrons, but by the people.
For thcir nobles, to keep thcnl at a distance, it is not amiss;
hut to depress thenl may 111ake a king n10re absolute, but less

afe, and less able to perfonn anything that he desires. I have
noted it in my history of King I-Ienry 'TII. of England, who
deprcssed his nobility, whereupon it came to pass, that his times
wcrc full of difficulties and troubles; for the nobility, though
thcy continued loyal unto him, yet did they not co-operate with
him in his business-so that in effect he was fain 3 to do all
things himsclf.
For their second nobles, there is not much danger from them,
being a body dispersed: they may sometimes discourse high,
hut that doth little hurt; besides, they are a counterpoise to
the higher nobility, that they gro,v n0t too potent; and, lastly,
bcing the nlost imll1ediate in authority with the common
people, they do best temper popular commotions.

1 Towardness. Docilil!J. 'He provell in his youth a personage of great tOU'a'J.d-
'less, and such as no small hope of him was conceived.'-Holinshed.
: Estate. Order of men. ' .All the estate of the elùers.'-.Acts xxii. 5.
3 :Fain. Compelled; consijOailied. ''''hosoever will hear, he shall find God;
\\ho
oeYer will study to know, ::;h.\l1 be also fa in to believe.'-]louker.
, I wasfain to forswear it.'-Blwkespe1'e.

182

Of Empire.

[Essay xix.

For their mercl1ants, they are vena po"rta,1 and if they flourish
not, a kingdom may have good limbs, but will have empty veins,
and nourish little. Taxes and imposts upon them do seldom
good to the king's revenue, for that .which he wins in the
hundred 2 he loseth in the shire: the particular rates being
increased, but the total bulk of trading rather decreased.
For their comnlons, there is little danger from them, except
it he where they have great and potent heads, or where you
meddle with the point of re]igion, or their customs, or means
of life.
For their men of war, it is a dangerous state where they live
and remain in a Body, and are used to donatives, whereof "\ve
see examples ill the janizaries and pretorian bands of Rome; but
trainings of men, and arming theln in several places, and under
several comnlauders, anù without donatives, are things of defence,
and no danger.
Princes aTe like to heavenly bodies, which cause good or evil
times; and ,vhich have much veneration, but no rest. All
precepts concerning kings are in effect comprehended in those
two remembrances: 3 'l\Ien1euto quod es hon10,' and '
Iemento
quod es Deus,' or 'vice Dei' -the one bridleth their power, and
the other their will.

AXTITHET A ON El\IPIRE.

PRO.
, }'elicitate frui, magnum bonum est j
fed earn et aliis impertiri posse, adhuc
majus.
'To enjoy happiness is a great
good; but to be able to confer it also
on others is a greater still.'

CO
TRA.
'Qmnn miserum, habt're nil fere,
quod Hppetas; infinita, quæ metuHS.
, How 'wretcJted is lte 'lclw has llardT!!
aJlyllâng to lope, and many tllings to
fear.'

1 'The great yein of the body.'
2 Hundred. Á division of a counll/. 'Lands taken from the enemy were
di viùed into centuries or hundreds, and distributed amongst the soldiers.'-
A.rbutluwt.
3 'Remember that thou art man,' and' Remember that thou art God-or God's
vice-gerent.'

ESSAY xx. OF COUKSEL.

T IlE greatest trust between man and man, is the trust of
giving counsel; for in other confidences men commit the
parts of life, thcir lands, their goods, their children, their
credit, some particular affair; but to such as they make their
counsellors they commit the whole-by how mueh the more
they are obliged to all faith and integrity. The wisest princes
nccd not think it any diminution to their greatness, or deroga-
tion to their sufficiency, to rely upon counsel. God himself is
not without, but hath made it one of the great namcs of the
blessed Son, , the Counsellor.,1 Solomon hath pronounced that
, in counscl is stahility.'
rrhing
,viII have their first or second
agitation; if they be not tossed upon the arguluents of counsel,
they will be tossed upon the waves of fortune, and be full of
inconstancy, doing and undoing, like the reeling of a drunken
man. Solomon's son found the force of counsel, as his father
saw the necessity of it: for the beloved kingdom of God was
first rent and broken by ill counsel-upon which counsel there
are set for our instruction the two marks whereby bad counsel
is for ever best discerned, that it was young counsel for the
persons, and violent counsel for the matter.
The ancicnt tirnes do set forth in figure both the incorpora-
tion aud inseparable conj unction of counsel with Kings, and
the wise and politic use of counsel by I(ings; the one, in that
they say Jupiter did marry 1\Ietis, ,.dlÍch signifieth counsel,
whereby they intend that sovereignty is married to counscl; the
other in that which followeth, which was thus :-they say, after
Jupiter was marricd to l\Ietis, she conceived by him and was
with child, but Jupiter suffered her not to stay till she brought
forth, but ate her up, whereby he becan1e himself with child,
and was delivered of Pallas armed out of his head. 3 'Yhich
nlonstrous fable containeth a secret of empire how kings are to
make use of their coun
el of state-that first, they ought to
refer lnattcrs unto thenl, which is the first begetting or impreg-
nation: but when they are elaborate, moulded, and shaped in

1 Isaiah h... 6.

2 Provo xx. 18.

3 Hesiod. Theog.886.

18 4

OJ Counsel.

[Essay xx.

the womb of their council, and gro,v ripe and ready to be
brought forth, that then they suffer not their council to go
through with the resolution 1 and direction, as if it depended on
them, but take the matter back into their own hands, and make
it appear to the world, that the decrees and final directions
(which, because they come forth with prudence and power, are
resembled to Pallas armed) proceeded from themselves, and not
only from their authority, but (the more to add reputation to
themselves) from their head and device.
Let us now speak of the inconveniences of counsel, and
of the remedies. The inconveniences that have been noted
in calling and using counsel, are three :-first, the re.
vealing of affairs, ,vhereby they become less secret; secondly,
the weakening of the authority of princes, as if they 'were
less of themselves; thirdly, the danger of being unfaith-
fully counselled, and more for the good of them that counsel.)
than of him that is counselled-for ,,,hich inconveniences, the
doctrine of Italy, and practice of France, in some kings' times,
hath introduced cabinet councils-a remedy worse than the
disease.
As to secrecy, princes are not bound to communicate all
matters with all counsellors, but may extract and select-
neither is it necessary, that he that cOllsulteth what he should
do, should declare what he will do; but let princes beware that
the unsecreting 2 of their affairs comes not from themselves: and
as for cabinet councils, it may be their motto, 'Plenus rimarum
surn. J3 One futile 4 person, that maketh it his glory to tell, win
do more hurt than many that kno,v it their duty to conceal. It
is true there be some affairs .which require extreme secrecy,
which will hardly go beyond one or two persons besides the
king-neither are those counsels ullprosperous,-for, besides the

1 Resolution. Final decision.
, l' the progress of this business,
Ere a determinate resolutioll

The bi8hops did require a re8pite.
-Shakespere.
2 Unsecreting. The disclosing; the divulging. Shakespcre has the adjective
, unsecret :

, \Vhy have I blabbéd? ',,"ho should be true to us
'Yhcn we are so un secret to ourselves ?
-Sh.akespere.
3 'Full of chinks am I.
-Ter. Eun. 1. I I, 25'
· .Futile. Talkatwe, See page 59.

ay x..'í.J

Of COllnsel.

18 5

sccrccy, thcy commonly go on constantly in one spirit of dircc-
tion without distraction; but thcn it must be a prudent king,
such as i:s ablc to grind with a hand-mill-and tho
e inward 1
counsellors had need also be wi
e Illcn, and espccially true and
trusty to the king's cuùs, as it ,vas with King IIenry VII. of
]
nglalld, who in his greatest busincss imparted himself to none,
except it wcre to )Iorton and Fox.
For weakness of authority the fable showeth the ren1edy-
na
T, thc majesty of kings is rather exalted than dinÜnishcù
when thcy are in the chair of councilJ-neither was there e\Ter
prince bereaved of his dependcncies by his council, except where
thcre hath bccn eithcr an 0' er-gI'Catn
ðs in one counsellor, or
an ovcr-strict conlbination ill di\Ters/ which are things 80011
found antI holpcn. 3
For the last incou\renicnce" that men will counsel with an
eye to themschrcs; certainly, 'Non inyenict fidem super terranl,H
is Incant of thc nature of tinles J and not of all particular
}Jersons. There be that are in nature faithful and sillccre, and
plaiu and direct, not crafty and invohTeù-let princes, abo\re aU,
draw to thcmschrcs such natures. Bcsides, counsellors are not
commonly so unitcd but that one counsellor keepeth sentinel
o\'cr another; so that if any coullscl out of faction or priyate
el1d
, it conlnlollly comes to the king's ear: but the best remedy
is, if prince8 know their counsellors, as well as thcir counsellors
know them :-

I Principis est virtus maxima nosse SUDS.' 5

And on the other side, counsellors should not be too specula-
tive into their :;overeign's person. The true composition of a
coull!5cllor is, rather to be skilful in their master's business than
in his nature; for then he is like to ad\Tise him, and not to feed
his humour. It is of singular use to princes if they take the.
opinions of thcir council both separately and together; for pl'i-
,atc opinion is n10re free, but opinion before othcrs is more
l'evercud. In private, men are more bold in their own hU1l10urs,

I Inward. Intimate. I All my inu:ard friends abhorred rne/--Job xix. 1 9 .
2 D o
lyers. Several; sundry.
, .Divers new opinions, diverse and dangerous.'-Shakespere.
3 IIolpen. ]Ielped. ' They shall be holpen with a little help.'-Dan. xi. 34.
4 , He will not tind t:lith upon the earth.'-Luke
viii. 18.
II · The grcatest virtue of a prince is to know his man.'

186

Of Counsel.

[Essay xx.

and, in consort/ men are more obnoxious to others' 11U1l10Ul'S,
therefore it is good to take both-and of the inferior sort,
rather in private to preser,Te freedom,-of the greater, rather in
consort to preserve respect. I t is in vain for princes to take
counsel concerning matters, if they- take no counsel likewise
concerning persons-for all matters are as dead images, and the
life of the execution of affairs resteth in the good choice of
persons; neither is it enough to consult concerning persons,
, secundurn genera'2 as in an idea of mathematical description,
what the kind and character of the person should be; for the
greatest errors are committed, and the most judgment is shown,
in the choice of individuals. It was truly said, 'Optin1Ï con-
siliarii mortui'3-' Books 'will speak plain ,,-hen counsellors
blanch,' therefore it is good to be conversant in tèem, special1y
the books of such as themselyes haye been the actors upon the
stage.
rrhe councils at this day in most places are but famjliar
meetings, where matters are rather talked on than debated;
and they run too sw.ift to the order or act of council. It were
better that, in causes of ,veight, the matter were propounded
one daJ", and not spoken to till next day, 'in nocte consilium;' 4
so was it done in the commission of union between England
and Scotland, which ,vas a grave and orderly assembly. I
commend set days for petitions; for both it gives the suitors
more certainty for their attendance, and it frees the Ineetings
for Inatters of estate,s that they may 'hoc agere.'6 In choice
of committees for ripening business for the council, it is better
to chuse indifferent; persons, than to 11lake an indifferency by
putting in those that are strong on both sides. I cOffilnend
also standing comn1Ïssions; as for trade, for treasure, for war,

1 Consort. Assembly; council.
, In one consort t11Cre sat,
Cruel Revenge, and rancorous De:;pite,
Disloyal Treason, and heart.burning Hate.'-Spenser.
2 According to thcir kinds. 3 'The dead are the best counsellors.'
4 In night is counsel.
5 l\Iattcrs of estate. PuUic A.ffairs. ' I lJear her talk of matters qf estate, and
tJ](' Scnate.'-Ben Jonson.
6 Do this one thing.
7 Illdificrent.

eutral; not Ùzclined to one side 'more ilu'I/n another.
, Cato knows neithcr of them,
Indijferent in his choice to sleep or die.'-.A..ddison.

Es
ay xx.]

Annotat ions.

18 7

for suits, for some provinces; for ,vhcl'e there bc divers par-
ticular councils} and but one council of estate (as it is in Spain),
they are, in effect, no more than standing commissions, savel
that they haye greater authority. Let such as are to infornl
councils out of their particular professions (as lawyers, seamen,
mintmen,
and the like), be first heard before committees, and
then, as occasion scrves, before the council; ana let them not
come in nlultitude
, or in a tribnnitious Inanner, for that is to
clamour 3 councils, not to inform them. A long table and a
square table, or scats about the walls, seem things of form, but
arc things of substance; for at a long table, a few at the upper
end, in effect, sway all the business; but in the other form
there is more use of the counsellors' opinions that sit lower.
A ling, when he presides in council, let him beware how he
opens his own inclination too much in that which he pro-
poundeth; for else counsellors will but take the wind of hÜn,
and in:steat1 of gi,.ing free counsel, "ill sing him a song of
, placcbo. J4

ANKo'r..t\.TIONS.

, It is better to cliuse indifft:rent persons, than to make an indif-
fercJlcy by putting in those tltat are strong on both sides.'

Bacon ib here speaking of committees; but there is in refe-
rence to legislative asscnlblics a very general apprehension of a
complete preponderance of S0111e cxtrcnlC party, ,,-Lich arises, I
conceive, froln not taking into account the influence which in
c\'cry as
embly, and every society, is always exercised (except
in somc few cases of very extraordinary excitement, and almost of

1 Save. Except. r Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes, sare one.'-
2 COl'. xi.

Iilltman. Skilled in coinage. r He that thinketh Spain to be some great
o"erm
tch for tl
i8 estate, is no good miniman, but tales greatness of kiJlgdoms
ac(,-Ordmg' to theIr bulk and currencJ, and not after their intrinsic value.'-13acon's
lf
a,. leilh Spain.
3 Clamour. To stun 'l{,ith noise. (Rarely used as an active verb.)
r Clamour your tongue
.'-Snake
:pere.
.. Placebo. I will please. Used to denote an
.thing soothing.

J88

OJ Counsel.

[Essay xx.

temporary disorganization) by those ,,,ho are in a rninority.
On this subject I take leave to extract a passage from The
Kingdom, of Christ. I
e It might appear at first sight-and such is usually the ex-
pectation of a child of ordinary intelligence, and of all those
,vho are deficient in an intelligent study of history, or observa-
tion of what is passing in the 'world,-that whatever party
n1Ïght in any meeting or in any cOlnn1unity, obtain a 'JJzajority,
or in whatever other ,yay, a s'/Jperi01 9 ity, 'would be certain to
carry out their own principles to the uÍlllost, w'ith a total dis-
regard of all the rest; so that in a senate for instance, con.
sisting, suppose, of 100 members, a majority, whether of
5 I to 49, or of 70 to 30, or of 95 to 5, 'would proceed in all
respects as if the others had no existence: and that no ulut-ual
concessious or compromises could take place except between
parties exactly balanced. In like manner a person ,vholly
ignorant of J\Iechanics might suppose that a body acted on by
several unequal forces in different directions would obey alto-
gether the strongest, and ,yould move in the direction of that;
instead of moving, as we kno,v it ordinarily does, in a direction
not coinciding with anyone of them.
e And experience shows that in human affairs as 'well as in

Iechanics, such expectations are not well founded. If no
tolerably wise and good measures were ever carried except in
an assembly where there ,vas a complete predominance of n1en
sufficiently enlightened and public-spirited to have a decided
preference for those measures abo,re all others, the ,vorld would,
I conceive, be luuch ,vorse governed than it really is.
e No doubt, the larger the proportion of judicious and patriotic
individuals, the bettcr for the community; but it seems to be
the appointment of Providence that the prejudices, and passions,
and interests of different men should be so various as not only
to keep one another somewhat in check, but often to bring
about, or greatly help to bring about, ntixed results, often
far prefcrable to anything deviseti or aimed at by any of the
parties.
e The British Constitution, for instance, no intelligent reader

I Kingdom cif Chdst. 4th edition, Appendix to Essa
T ii. note 0, pp. 34 8 , 349,
35 I, 35 2 .

E:5"ay xx.]

Annotations.

18 9

of history would regard as wholly or chicfly the work of men
fully sensible of the advantagcs of a governIDcnt so mh..ed and
balanced. It was in great llleasure the result of the efforts,
partially ncutralizing each othcr, of lnen who lcaned, more or lcss,
SOlne of thcm towards pure l\Ionarchy, and others to" ards
Itcpuhlicanism. .And again, though no one can dOllbt how
great an advance (it is as yet only an advance) of the principle
of rcligious toleration, and of Inaking a final appeal to Scripture
alone, is due to the Reforrnation, yet the Refornlcrs were slow
in embracing these principles. 'flIey were at first nearly as
much disposed as their opponcnts to force their own interpreta-
tions of Scripture on everyone, and to call in the magistrate
to supprcss hcresy by forcc. But not bcing able to agree
among thenlselves whose interpretation of Scripture should be
reccived as authoritative, and 'wllo should be entrusted with the
sw.orcl that was to cxtirpate heresy, comprornises and mutual
conce:-:sions gradually led more and nlore to the practical
adoption of principles whose theoretical truth and justice is,
even yet, not univcrsalJy pcrccivcd.
, _\.nd sin1Ílar instances may he found in every part of history.
'Yithout entering into a detailed examination of the particular
tHode in which, on each occasion, a superior party is influenced
by those opposed to them-either from reluctance to drive them
to desperation, or otherwise,-certain it is, that, looking only to
the results,-the practical working of any government,-in the
long run, and in th
general course of nleasnres,-we do find
sOll1C'thiug corresponding to the composition of forces in l\Ie-
chanics; and we find oftener than not, that the course actually
pursued is bctter (however faulty) than could have been cal-
culated from the character of the greater part of those who
administer the governn1ellt. The wisest and most moderate,
even when thcy form but a small minority, are often enabled
amidst the conflict of those in opposite extremes, to bring about
decisions, less wise and just indeed than they themselves 'would
have desired, but far better than those of either of the extreme
parties.
'Of course ,ye are not to expect the same exact uniformity of
effccts in human affairs as in l\Iechanics. It is not meant that
each dcci
ioll of eyery a
sC'mhly or body of Inen will necessarily
he the prcci
e 'resultant' (as it is called in Natural PhiJosophy)

19 0

OJ Counsel.

[Essay xx.

of the several forces operating,-the various parties existing in
the a
scnlbly. Some one or two votes will occasionally be
passed, by a majority-perhaps by no very large Inajority,-in
utter defiance of the scntiments of the rest. But in the long
run-in any course of enactments or proceedings,-some degree
of influence win scldom fail to be exercised by those 'who are in
a minority. This influence, again, will not always correspond,
in kind, and in degree,
rith what takes place in
Iechanics.
For instance, in the material world, the impulses .which keep a
body 'Inotionless nlust be exactly opposite, and exactly balanced;
but in human affairs, it will often happen that there may be a
considerable n)ajority in favour of taking some step, or making
some enactment, yet a disagreement as to some details will give
a preponderance to a smaller party ,,,ho are against any such
step. "Then the majority, for example, of a garrison are dis-
posed to make an attack on the besiegers, but are not agreed
as to the time and mode of it, the decision may be on the side
of a minority ,,,110 deem it better to remain on the defcnsive.
Accordingly; it is matter of con1mon remark that a (Council of
1Var' rarely ends in a resolution to fight a battle.
( rrhe results of this cause are sometimes e\1il, and sometimes
-perhaps more frequently-good. 1\Iany troublesome and per-
nicious restrictions and enactments, as wen as some beneficial
ones, are in this way prevented.
(And again the delay and discussion which ensue when
powerful parties are at all nearly balanced, afford an opening
for arguments: and this, on the whole, and in the long run,
gives an advantage (more or less, according to the state of
intellectual culture and civilization) to the most wise and
moderate,-in short, to those (even though but a snlall portion,
numerically, of the asselnbly) who have the best argulnel1ts on
their side. Some, in each of the opposed parties, may thus be
influenced by reason, 'who would not have waited to listen to
reason, but for the check they receive from each other. And
thus it ,viII sometimes happen that a result may ensue e\Ten
better than could have been calculated fl'om the mere mechanical
computation of the acting forces.
The above views are the ll10re important, because anyone
who does Dot embrace them, will be likely, 011 contemplating
any wise institution or enactment of for1ner times, to be thro
\\ n

Essay xx.]

Annotations.

]9 1

into inrtolent dcspondency, if he find, as he often ,vill, that the
majority of those around us do not secm to come up to the

taudard which those institutions and cnactnlents appear to
him to imply. lIe takcs for grantcd that the whole, or the
chief part, of the members of tho
e assemblies, &c., in which
such and buch measures ,vere carried, must have been n1en of a
corresponùing degree of good sense, and moderation, and public
spirit: and perceiving (as he thinks) that an assembly of such
THen could not now. be found, he concludes that wisdom and
goodncss (in go,.ernments at least) must have died with our
ancestors; or at least that no good is at þ1.esent to be hoped
fronl any go,-ernnlent. And yet perhaps the truth will be that
the grcater part of the very assemblies whose measures he is
admiring may ha\re consisted of mcn of several partie
, each of
which would, if left entirely to itself, have made a luuch worse
lleci
ion than the one actually adopted; and that one may have
ùcen such, as, though not actually to coincide '\fith, yet most
ncarly to approach to the opinions of the wisest and best
mClllbcrs of the assembly, though those may have been but a
small minority. And it may be therefore, that lIe may have
around him the materials of an assclnbly not at all inferior in
probity 0)' intelligcnce to that which he is contemplating with
de
pairillg admiration.

, A king, wIlen he presides in council

It is remarkable how. a change of very grcat importance in
our system of govcrument was brought about by pure accident.
The custom of the king's being p'resellt in a cabinet council of
his nlinisters, which was the où,'ious, and had always been the
usual state of things, was put an end to when the IIalloverian
princes came to the throne, frolll their ignorance of the English
language. The advantage thence resultin g of ministers laviuo-
eI b
before the soyereign the result of their full and free delibera-
tions-an advantage not at all originally contcluplated,-caused
the èustom to be continucd, and so established that it is most
unlikely it should eyer be changed.

ESSAY XXI. OF DELAYS.

F ORTUNE is like the market, where, many times, if you can
stay a little, the price ,viII fall; and again, it is sometimes
like Sibylla'sl offer, which at first offereth the commodity at
full, then consumeth part and part, aud still holdeth up the
price; for occasion (as it is in the common verse) turneth a
bald noddlc after she hath presented her locks in front, and no
hold tak
n ; or, at least, turncth the handle of the bottle first
to be received, and after the belly,2 ,vhich is hard to clasp.3
There is surely no greater ,visdom than 'well to time the begin-
nings and onsets of things. Dangers are no more light, if they
once seem light; and more dangers have deceived men than
forced them: nay, it were better to meet some dangers half
,yay, though they come nothing near, than to keep too long a
watch upon their approaches; for if a man watch too long, it
is odds he ,vill fall asleep. On the other side, to be deceived
,vith too long shadows (as some have been ,vhen the moon was
low, and shone on their enemies' backs), and so to shoot oft
before the tin1c, or to teach dangers to come on, by over-early
buckling 4 towards them, is another extreme. The ripeness or
unripeness of the occasion (as ,ve said) must ever be well
weighed; and generally it is good to commit the beginnings of
all great actions to Argus with his hundred eyes, and the ends
to Briareus 'with his hundred hands-fil'st to 'watch, and then
to speed; for the helmet of Pluto/ ,vhich maketh the politic
man go invisible, is secrecy in the counsel, and celerity in the
eÀecution; for 'when things are once come to the execution,
there is no secrecy comparable to celerity-like the motion of
a hullet in the air, which Rieth so swift as it outruns the eye.

1 Sibylla. The Sibyl.
2 Belly. That protuberance or cat,ity of anything resembling the human 'bell!!_
, An Irish harp hath the concave, or belly, at the end of the strings.'-Bacon,
1!tat. Hist. 3 Phæd. viii.
4 Buckle. To go; to hasten to'lvards.
, Soon he buckled to the field.' -Spenser.
5 Homer, II. v. 845.

ay xxi.]

AnJlotations.

193

AXTITHE'L\. OX DELAYS.

PRO.
'Fortuna multa festinanti "vclldit,
quibus rnorantem donat.
'.Fortune ciflen SELLS to the ha.<;(g
'wllat she Gn ES to those 'Who lJ'ait.'

COXTRA.
'Occasio instar Sibyllæ minuit oùIa-
turn, pretium augct.
'Opportunity, like tl
e Sihyl, dimi-
nishes Iter offering and increases Iter
price at each visit.'

'Celeritas, Orci, galea.
, SlJeed is tl
e helmet of Pluto.'

AXXOTA'froxs.

This mattcr of 'Dclays' is most emphatically one in which,
as Sir Jtogcr de Coyerley might have decided, much nlay be said
on both sides. The rulcs which Bacon does give are very good;
hut, as it has becll wcll observed, 'genius begins wherc rule

end,' and there is no mattcr wherein rules can go a lcss ,ray, or
wherein there i
more call for what may be calJed practical
geniu
: that is, a far-sighted sagacity, as to the probable results
of taking or Hot taking a certain step, and a delicate tact in
judging of the peculiar circUDlstances of each case.
The greatcr part of men are bigots to one or the other of the
opposite systcms,-of delay, or of expedition; always for acting
eithcr on the maxim of 'never put off till to-morrow 'what can
1)c done to-day,' or, on the opposite one, which is said to
ha,yc been in the lllouth of Talleyrand, 'never do to-day ,,,II at
can be done to-morrow.'
:But still ,vorse are those nlock- ,Y"ise men 'who mingle the
two systems togethcr, and are slow and quick just in the same
degrce that a real1y wise man is; only, in the wrong places:
who Inake their decisions hastily, and are slow in the cxecution;
begin in a hurry, and arc dilatory in proceeding; who unmask
their battery hastily, and then think of loading their gnns; ,vho
cut their corn green, (according to the French proycrbial ex-
lu'ession of 'manger son blé en hC'rbe,') and let their fruit hang
to ripcn till it has been blo'\fll down by the w.inds and is rotting
011 the ground.

194

Of Delays.

[Essay xxi.

, The ripeness or unripeness of the occasion 'J1zust ever be well
weighed.'

It is a comn1on phrase with the undiscrin1inating advocates
of delay, that 'The 'Y orld is not yet ripe for such and sllch a
measure.' But they usually forget to inquire 'Is it ripe'lling ?
'Vhen, and how, is it likely to becorne ripe? or, Are men's minds
to ripen like winter pears, merely by laying them by, and letting
theln alone?'
'Time,' as Bishop Copleston has remarked, (Remains, p. 123,)
, is no agent.' "T"hen we speak of such and such changes being
brought about by tin1e, we mean in time,-by the gradual and
imperceptible operation of some gentle agency. 'Ye should
observe, therefore, whether there is any such agency at work,
and in what direction ;-whether to render a certain change
ll10re difficult or easier. If JOu are surrounded by the waters,
and want to escape, you should observe" bethel" the tide is
flowing or ebbing. In the one case, you should at once attempt
the ford, at all hazards; in the other, you have to ,vait patiently.
And if the ,vater be still, and neither rising nor faJIil1g, then you
should consider that though there is no danger of drowning, you
must remain in:-;ulated for ever, unless you cross the ford; and
that if this is to be done at all, it Inay 1e as "
en done at once.
The case of sla\Tery in the United States is one of a rising
tide. The rapid multiplication of slaves which has already
l
elldered their eluancipation a difficult and hazardous step,
makes it more so every year, and increases the danger of a
servile war such as that of St. Domingo.
The serfdom of the Russians is, perhaps, rather a case of
still water. There seems no great reason to expect tllat the
state of things ",in gro,v either worse or better, spontaneously.
In each of these cases, the slayes and the serfs are not ripe
for freedom; no enslaved people ever are; and to .wait before
you bestow liberty, or political rights, till the l'ecipients are fit
to employ them aright, is to resolve Hot to go into the .water
till you can swim. You rnust make up your mind to encounter
1nany very considerable evils, at first, and for some tin1e, while
men are learning to use the advantages conferred on them.
It is the part of wisdom, how eyer, to lessen these evils as
far as can be done by careful preparation, and by In'iaging for-

Essa
- xxi.]

Anllotations.

195

"'anI the several portions of any Inea-;ure in the best o1.der. A
striking installce of the wi
òonl of this rule was exhihitcd in
the nlcasurcs adopted in reference to the Irish Itoman-catholics.
The first thing done was to bestow political power on the lowest,
Inost ignorant, and must pricst-ridden of the people, by giving
thcm the elccti\Tc franchise; at the samc tilne making this a
source of continual irritation and continued agitation, because
thcy were still re
tricted from electing Inembers of their own
p
rsuasioll. Roulau-catholics were still precluded from sitting
in parlialnent, because, forsooth, 'no one of that Church could
be safely trusted witlt political power l' So said thousands, and
hundreds of thousands, for nearly forty years, during .which
ROluan-catholics had been exercising political power (as free-
holder:;) in the Illost dangerous way pos
ible. The next step
was to admit Roman-catholics to seats; which ought to have
preceded-as almost e"ery one now admits-the conferring of
thc elective franchise; because the Roman-catholics "ho would
thus have been achuitted to a share of political power would
havr been few, and would ha\ye belonged to the educated classes.
...\.nd last of all came that which should have been the first of
all,-the pro\'iding of SOlne such schooling for the mass of the
pcople as might render them at least one degree less unfit for
political power.
And, was the long interval between the beginning and the
end of this series of measures, occupied in pro,.iding against
the dangers to be apprehended as resulting? Quite the reverse.
In
tead of holding out, so as to gain better ternls, .we held
out for worse. TlJe ministry of 1806 provided certain con-
ditions as safeguards, which that of J 829 ,,'ould not ,-enture to
insist on. The one illinistry .would haye capitulated on terms;
the other surrendered uearly at discretion. The one propo
ed
to confer sOlllething of a free-will boon; the other yielded
a\'owedly to intimidation.

, There is no seC1.ecy cOlnparable to celerity.'

'Ye have an illustration of the importance of ( celerity in the
execution,' in circumstances in the history of our goyernment
of a later date than the instance above mentioned. A ministry
"hich had established a certain system about which there had
o 2

19 6

OJ Delays.

[Essay xxi.

been much controverS)T, .was succeeded by tho8e of the opposite
party; and these were eagerly looked to, by men of all parties,
to see whether they would support that system in its integrity,
or abolish, or materially modify it. They ,vere warned of the
importance of coming to a speedy decision one way or the other,
and clearly proclain1Ïllg it at once, ill order to put a stop to
false hopes and false fears. And it wa3 l)ointed out to thcnl
that those ,vho had hitherto opposed that system ,,,ere now,
a'V0 YJedly , resting on their oars, and waiting to see ". hat course
the n1Ïnisters they favoured would adopt. This warning ,,-as
conveyed in a letter, pressing for a speedy ans,ver: the ans,yer
came in a year and a half! and after every encouragement had
been giyen, during the interim of hesitation, to the opponents of
the system to come forvlard to cO'}Tlmit t/zenzselves anew to their
opposition (which they did), then at length the systen1 wa

adopted and appro,-ed, and carried on in the face of these mar-
shalled ol)ponents, embittered by di:sappointment, and indignant
at what they regarded as betrayal!
So nluch for taking one's time, and proceeding leisurely!
In another case, a measure of great benefit to the empire
'Was proposed, which ,vas approved by almost all sensible anù
public-spirited men acquainted ,,'ith the case, but unacceptable
to those "Tho wished to 'fish in troubled ,vaters,' and had
sagacity enough to perceive the tendency of the measure,-and
also hy some few whose priyate interest was opposed to that of
the Public, and by several others ,,-ho ,"rere either nJÍsled by the
above, or afraid of losing popularity with them. The "Tise
course "Would haye been, to n1ake the exact arrangements,
secretly, for all the details, ana then at once to bring forward
the n1easure; which would at once, and with ease, have been
carried. Instead of this, the design ,vas announced publicly,
long before, 80 as to afford ample time and opportunity for
getting up petitions, and otherwise organizing opposition; and
then advantage was taken of sonle flaw in the details of the
measure, which had been o\Terlooked, and might easily have
been remedied: and thus the measure was defeated.
It "as as if a general should proclailn a month beforehand
the direction in which he meant to march, so as to allow the
enemy to prepare an kinds of obstacles j and then} ,,-hen he had

Essay xxi.]

Annotat iOìl.
.

197

begun his lllal'ch, to be forced to turn back, from haying left
his pontoons and his artillery behind!

, To S1100t off before tlte ti/lze, or to teach dangers to corne on
by vl'er-early !Juck/iug towards tlU:Ul, is anotlu:r extreule.'

This error of taking some
tep prematurely, or of doing at
one stride what had better ha,-c been done gradually, arises
often, in a scnsible man, from a sense of the 8hortness anù un-
certainty of life, and an impatience to ' see of the labour of his
soul anù be
atisfied,' instead of leaving his designs to be carried
into execution, or to be completed, by others, who lllay perhaps
not do the ,\-ork so well, or nlay be defeated by sonIe rally of
opponents.
Ahel ::5ometimes it is even wise, under the circumstances, to
})roeeecl more hastiìy than "ould have been advisable if one
could have bccn sure of being able to proceed ,\ ithout obstacles.
It would have been, for instance, ill itself, better to relax gra-
dually the laws interfering with free trade, than to sweep them
an ay at once. But the interval would haye been occupied in
clldeavours, which n1Íght have been successful, to effect a kind of
cOHnter-rc,'olution, and re-establish those laws. And so it is
with many other refornls.

\. man who ])lalnly percei,'"ea that, as Bacon obse:n-res, there
are some cases which call for pro111ptitude, and others which
}'cquire delay, and who has also sagacity enough to pel'ceive
u.:/âch is which, will often be mortified at perceiving that he has
COlne too late for some things, and too soon for others ;-that
he i
lih..e a skilful engineer, who perceives how he could, fifty
years earlier, ha'
e effectually prescr,-ed an ilnportant harbour
which is now irrecoyerably silted up, and how he could, fifty
years hcnce, though not at prcsent, reclaim from the sea
thousands of acres of fertile land at. the delta of some ri\'er.
lIenee the pro,'erb-

, He that is truly wise and great,
Lives both too early and too late.'1

1 :-:ec Proverbs alzd Precepts for Cop)--Picces for Schools.

ESSAY XXII. OF CUNNIKG.

W E take cunning for a sinister, or crooked wisdom; and
certainly there is a great difference between a cunning
man and a wise man, not only in point of honesty, but in point
of ability. There be that can pack the cards, and yet cannot
play ,veIl; so there are some that are good in canvasses and
factions, that are otherwi
e ,yeak men. Again, it is one thing
to understand persons, and another thing to understand matters;
for many, are perfect in men's humours, that are not greatly
capable of the real part of business, .which is the constitution of
one that hath studied men lllore than books. Such TI1en are
fitter for practice than for counsel, and they are good but in
their o,vn alley: turn them to ne,v men, and they have lost their
aim; so as l the old rule, to kno,v a fool from a ,vis.e nIan,
'l\Iitte ambos lludos ad ignotos, et videbis,'2 doth scarce hold
for them. And because these cunning Dlen arc like haberdashers
of small ,,-ares, it is not anliss to set forth their shop.
It is a point of cunning to ,vait 3 upon him with ,vhom you
speak, with your eye, as the Jesuits give it in precept-for there
be many wise men that have secret hearts and transparent
countenances; yet this would 4 be done ,vith a demure abasing
of your eye sometin1es, as the Jesuits also do us:e.
Another is, that when you have any thing to obtain of
present dispatch, you entertain and amnse the party ,,-ith w110m
you deal with some other discourse, that he be not too much
a,yake to D1ake objections. I kne,y a counsellor and secretary,
that never came to Queen Elizabeth of England with bill
to
sign, but he would aI,rays first put her into some discourse of
state, that she might the less mind the bills.
The like surprise may be made by ll10viug 5 things ,vhen the

1 As. That. See page 22.
2 'Send both naked to strangf'1"s, and thou slmIt know.'
3 "T ait upon him with Jour e)"e. To look watclifully to Mm. 'As the eyes of
Sf'l"vants look unto the hands of their masters, . . . . so our eyes wait upon the
Lord our God.'-Ps. cxxiii. 2.
4 'V ould. Should.
i .Move. To propose.
'Let me but mot'e one question to
'our daughter.' - Shakespe1'e.

E..,say xxii.]

OJ Cunning.

199

l)arty is in haste', and cannot stay to consider advisedly of that'
is 1110,'cd.
If a man would cross a business that he doubts some other

.ould handsomely alul effectually move, let him pretend to
'f"i,h it well, and move it himself, in such sort as may foil it.
The bl'eakillg off in the midst of that one was about to say,
as if he took himself up, breeds a greater appetite in him with
,,-hom you confer to kno,v more.
And because it works better when anything seemeth to be
gottcn fl'Onl you by question, than if you offer it of yourself,
you may lay a bait for a question, by showing another visage
and countenance than you are wont; to the end, to give occa-
sion for the party to a.sk what the matter is of the change, as
Nehemiah did,-' And I had not bcrote that time been sad before
the king.'3
In things that are tender and unpleasing, it is good to break
the ice by some whose words are of less ,veight, and to reserve
the more weighty ,.oice to come in as by chance, so that he
111ay he asked the que
tion upon the other's speech; as Nar-
cissus did, in relating to Claudius the marriage of l\Iessalina
and Silius..
In things that a man would not be seen in himself, it is a
point of cunning to borro,v the n
une of the world; as to say,
, The world says,' or, ' rrhere is a speech abroad.'
I knew one that, when he 'wrote a letter, he would put that
which was most material in the postscript, as if it had been a
bye nlatter.
I knew another that, 'when he came to have speech, he would
pass over that he iutended most, and go forth, and come back
again, and speak of it as a thing he had alnlost forgot.
Some procure themselves to bc surprised at such times as it
is like the party, that they work upon, will suddenly come upon
them, and be found with a letter it their hand, or doing some-
what which they are not accuston1ed, to the end they may

1 That, Th':lt 'U'hich. See page 59-
2
Iatter. Cause.
'To :your quick-conceiving dÏ!l,C'ontel1t,
I'll read J01.1 malleI. deep and dangt'roul1.'-Shakespef'e.
I '1' h - h .. 4 T . A .
.J.fe emza 11. 1. aClt. .ann. Xl. 29, seq.

200

Of Cunning.

[Essay xxii.

he apposed l of those things which of thenlselvcs they are desirous
to utter.
It is a point of cunning to let fall those ,vorc1s in a man's
o,vn name which he would have another man learn and use, and
thereupon take advantage. I knew two that were competitors
for the secretary's place, in Queen Elizabeth's time, and yet
kept good quarter 2 between thenlselves, and "Toulù confer one
with another upon the business; and the one of them said, that
to be a secretary in the declination 3 of a monarchy was a ticklish
thing, and that he did not affect 4 it; the other straight caught
up those ,vords, and discoursed ,vith rlivers 5 of his friends, that
he had no reason to desire to be secretary in the declining of a
monarchy. The first man took hold of it, and found means it
,vas told the queen; 'who, hearing of a declination of monarchy,
took it so ill, as 6 she ,vould ne,Ter after hear of the other's suit.
There is a cunning, 'which we ill England call 'the turning
of the cat in the pan ;'7 ,rhich is, ,vhen that which a man says
to another, he lays it as if another had said it to him; and, to
say truth, it is not easy, when such a 111atter passed between
two, to make it appear from ,vhich of them it first moved and
began.
It is a way that some men have, to glance and dart at others
by justifying themselves by negatives j as to say, 'This I do
not j' as Tigellinus did to,,-ards Burrhus J saying, 'Se non

1 Apposed. Questioned. (From appOllO, Lat.) "Yhiles chi1dren of tlmt age
were playing in the streets, Christ was found sitting in the Temple, not to gaze on
the outward glory of the house, or on the golden candlesticks, or tables, but to bear
aud appose the doctors.'-BiÛwp Hall.
(The office of' Foreign Appose'ì.,1 exists to this day in the Court of Exchequer.)
2 Quarter. A.mity, concord.
':Friends, all but now,
In quarter.'-Shakespe'ì'e.
3 Declination. Decay.
, Hope waits 'Upon the flow'ry prime;
And summer, though it he less gay,
Yet is not 1001i'd 011 as a time
Of declination or decay.'- TValler.
4 Affect. Aim at; endeavour after. See page I.
5 Divers. Several; more tllan one. 'DÙ:ers friends thought it strange.'-
Boyle.
6 As. Tlwt. See page 22.
1 Cat' in the }13n. Pan-cake. (Cate-cake-l)an-cake). Usually turned by a
(:exterous toss of tbe cook. A pan-cake is, in Northamptonsbire, still caned a
pan -cate.

I ... .. ]
'..
:-.;ay X
l1.

Of Cunning.

201

diycrsas spcs, scd incolun1Ïtatcnl irnpcratoris sin11)liciter S)>cc-
tarc.,l
Sonlc have in readiness so many talcs and stories, as there is
1l0thing they would insinuate lJut they can wrap it into a
talc; which SCITeth both to kccp themselvcs more i1l 2 guard, anù
to make others carry it with more plcasure.
I t is a good point of cunning for a man to shape the answer
he w'onld havc in his own words and propositions, for it makes
the othcr party stick 3 the less.
It is strange ho,v long some men will lie in ,vait to speak
sonlewhat they desire to say, and how far about they will fetch,
and how IUallY othcr lTIatters thcy will Lcat o'.er to come near
it; it is a thing of great paticncc, but yet of much use.
A sudden, bolù, and unexpected question, dath many times
surprise a Ulan, and lay him open. Like to him that, haying
changed his name, and walking in Paul's, another suddenly
('an..ll
behind hilH, and called hinl by his true nanlC, whereat
2Straight ways" he looked back.
But these slnall wares and petty points of cunning are
infinite, and it were a good deed to nlake a list of them; for
that nothing doth lnore hurt in a State than that cunning mcn
pass for wise.
But certainly some there are that know' the resorts 5 and falls 6
of busincss, that cannot sink into the main of it; like a house
that hath convenient stairs and entries, but never a fair room:
thereforc you shall see them fiuù out prettyi 100ses 8 in the con-

1 'He did not look to various hopes, but solely to the safety of the emperor.'-
Tacit. Ann. xiv. ,r)7.
2 In. 011. 'Let fowls multiply in the earth.'-Genesis i.
3 Stick. To hesitate; to scruple. 'Rather than impute our miscarringes to our
own corruption, we do not stick to arraign Providence.' -South.
.. :-\traightways. Immediately.
:; Uesol'ts. Springs.

, Fortune,
"'"hose dark resorts
ince prudence cannot know,
In vain it would provide for what shall ùe.'-Dryden.
6 Fa118. Chance.
. I To resist thefalls of fortune.'-Golden Boolt.
1 Pretty. Suitable; fit; tolerable.
':'t[y daughter's of a pretty age.'-Romeo and Juliet.
8 Looses. Iss'lles; escapes from restraint, such as is difficulty or perplexity i,,,
deliberation.
I And shot they with the sqnare, the round, or forket pile, (head of an arrow
The loose gave such a twang flS might be beard a mile.'-Drayton.

202

Of Cunning.

[Essay xxii.

clusion,l but are no ways able to examine or debate matters;
and yet commonly they take ad,-alltage of their inability, and
,vould be thought wits of direction. S0111e build rather upon
the abusing 2 of others, and (as we now say) putting tricks upon
them, than upon the soundness of their own proceedings; but
Solomon saith, 'Prudens aùvertit ad gressus suos; stultus
divertit ad dO!OS.'3

AKNOTATIONS.

, TVe take cunning for a sinister or crooked wisdon't; and cer-
tainly there is a great difference between a cunning 'lìlan and
a wise rnan,-not only in point of honesty, but in point of
ability.'
"\Yhatever a man may be, intellectually, he labours under
this disadyantage if he is of lo,v moral principle, that he knows
only the weak and bad parts of human nature, and not the
better.
It was remarked by an intelligent Roman Catholic that the
Confessional trains the priest to a 1\.l1owledge not of human
nature, but of Inental nosology. 'It may therefore qualify
them,' he said, 'for the treatn1ent of a depraved, but not of a
pure mind.'
N o 'v, what the Confessional is to the priest, that, a knave's
own heart is to hint. lIe can form no notion of a nohler
nature than his own. He is like the goats in Robinson
Crusoe's island, who saw clearly everything below them, but

This use of the word' loose' seems to correspond with our use of the word' solu-
tion,' ii"om solvo, to LOOSE-' Solve the question :'
, He had red her riddle, which no wight
Could eyer loose.'-Spenser.
1 Conclusion. The close; the result of deliberation. ' I have been reasonÏ11g,
and in conclusion have thougbt it best to return to what Fortune hath made my
home.' -Su'ift.
Bacon's meaning in the use of the words taken togetlwr, 'Pretty looses in the
conclusion,' is best explained by the original Latin of this Essay-' Tales vidctis
in conclltsionib'lIS deliberatíonum quosdam exitus reperire.'
2 Abuse. To deceive.
'The )loor's abused by some most villanous knave.'-Shakespere.
3 'The wise man looks to his steps j the fool turns aside to the snare.'

E .. ]
_
ssay X
ll.

Annotat iOll,<,f.

20 3

very ilnperfcctly what .was above thenl, so that Robinson Crusoe
could ncvcr get at thcm from the valleys, but 'whcn he came
upon them frolu the hiil-top, took them quite by surprise.
l\fis3 Edgeworth describes such a person as one who divides
all mankind into rogues and fools, and when he meets 'with an
honcst luan of good sense, does not know .what to make of him.
X othing, it is
aid, nlor
puzzled Buonaparte. He 'would offer
a man I loney; if that failed, he would talk of glory, or pron1ise
him rank and power: but if all these temptations failed, he 8et
hÏ1n down for an idiot) or a half-mad dreamer. Conscience ,vas
a thing he could not understand. Other things, then, being
equal, an honest man has this advantage over a knave, that h

understands more of hU1l1an nature: for he knows that one
honc
t D1an exists, and concludes that there must be more; and
he als.o kno" s, if he i
not a mcre simpleton, that therf' are

Olnc who are knavish; but the knave can seldom be brought
to bclic,-e in the e
isten('e of an honest man. The honcst nlan
flay be deccived in particular persons, but the knave is sure to
be deccived whenever he comes acro
s an honest man who is
not a nlCl'e fool.
There are some writers of fiction whose productions ha,-e
latcly (1854) obtained considerable reputation, who have given
spirited and just representations of particular characters, but an
unnatural picture of society as a whole, from omitting (what
thf'Y appear to haye no notion of) all characters of good sen5e
comhined with good principle. They seem to haye formed
no idea of allY, but what one may call HJ1](}UÇ and KUK01]fhll':;
-simpletons and crafty knayes; together" ith sonle "ho COlll-
billc portions of each; profligacy with silliness. But all their
worthy people are represented as weak, and all those of superior
intelligence as morally detestable. One of these writers was, in
conversation, reprobating as unjust the censure passed on slavery,
and luaintaiuing that any in-usage of a slave was as l'are in
J\nlC'rica, as a hump-back or a club-foot among us ;-quite an
exception. If so, the
\.mericans must be a curious contrast to
all that his fictions repl'C'sent; for in them, all of superior
intelligence, and nlost of those of no superior intelligence, are
just the per
ons who would make the most tyrannical slaye-
n1a",ters; being not only utterly unprincipled, but utterl.y hard-
hearted, and strangers to all hU1l1an feelings!

20 4

OJ Cunning.

[Essay xxii.

The sort of achTalltage ,vhich those of high 1110ral principle
possess, in the know ledge of mankind, is analogous to that
,vhich l\Ian possesses over the brute.
Ian is an anin1al, as
.well as the hrute; hut he is something more. lIe has, and
therefore can understand, most of their appetites and propensi-
ties: but he has also faculties which they ,vant, and of .which
they can form no notion. Eycn so, the bodily appetites, and
the desire of gain, and other Iu'opcnsities, are common to the
most elc'Tated and the most degraded of mankind; but the
latter are deficient in the higher qualifications which the others
possess; and can, accordingly, so little understand them, that as
Bacon remarks, 'of the highest virtues, the vulgar have no per-
ception.' (Supremarum sensus nullus.)

, These s
nall wal'es and petty points of cunning are infinite.

To these small .wares, enumerated by Bacon, n1ight lJe added
a very hackneyed trick, ,yhich yet is wonderfully succcssful,-to
affect a delicacy alJout mentioning particulars, and hint at what
you could bring forward, only
TOU do not wish to give offence.
, "T e could gi \Te many cases to prove that such and such a
medical systern is all a delusion, and a picce of quackery; but
,ve ahstain, through tenderness for indiyiduals, from bringing
names before the Public.' 'I have obser\Ted n1any things-
,vhich, however, I ,vill not particularize-which convince Ine
that l\Ir. Such-a-one is unfit for his office; and others have
made the same remark; but I do not like to bring them
forward,' &c. &c.
Thus an unarmed man keeps the unthinking in awe, by
assuring them that he has a pair of lo
dcd pistols in his pocket,
though he is loth to produce thenl.
The following trick is supposed (for no certain kno,vledge
could be, or eyer can be, obtained) to haye been successfully
practised in a transaction "hich occurred in the mernory of
persons 1l0'V living :-A person ,,,hose conduct ,vas about to
undergo an investigation ,vhich it could not ,yell stand, comn1U-
nicated to one ,,,ho was likely to be called on as a witness, all
the details-a con1plete fabrication-of some atrocious mis-
conduct, and when the witness narrated the conversation,

Essay
xii.]

Allnotations.

20 5

utterly dcuicd the wholc, and ea
ily proved that the things
dc
crihcd could not possihly have occurreù. r.t"he result was, a
univcrsal acquittal, and a belief that all the accusations were
the re
ult of an atrocious con:spiracy. But those who best
kncw the characters of thc parties, wcre convinced that the
,vitllcss had spoken nothing but the truth as to the alleged COll-
vcr:sation, and had bccn trick cd by the accused party, who had
ill,'cnted a false accusation in order to defeat a true one.
One not ycry UllCOllln10n device of some cunning pcople is
an affectation of e.J.:l'ì"eJne simplicity; which oftcn has the effect,
for the time at least, of throwing the company off their guard.
And thcil' pIau i8 to affcct a hasty, blunt, and what the French
call' brusque' Inanu('l'. The silnple are apt to conclude that he
who is not smooth and cautious 111USt be honest, and ".hat they
call 'a rough diamond;' in rcality, a rough diamond-all but
the dialnond. rrhus lIastings says of Richard 111.:-

C I think there's ne'er a man in Chrish.ndom
Can lc::,ser hide his love or hate than he;
}'or by his fhee straight JOu shall know his heart.'

All Fallacies arc picces of cunning, when used designedly.
For by a fallacy is commonly undcrstood any unsound lHode of
arguing, which appears to de111alld our conviction, and to be
deci
iYe of the qucstion in haud, WhCll in fairness it is not.
And many arc the contrivanccs which the sophist, who brings
forward the fallacy, deliberately use
to withdraw our attention
(his art closely resembling the juggler's) f1'o111 the quarter where
it lics. 1
:àI uch ingenious artifice is often used to evade the odium of
urging a man to do something you" ish him to do, or of dissuad-
ing, or preventing hinl from doing "what you wish him not to
do, or of refusing to grant SOlllcthillg you are asked for, &c.
The story, whi('h has become provcrbial, of (pray don't nail
his cars to the pump,' is a type of one class of these manæuvre8;
where you suggest somcthing, 01' hold out a tenlptation, undcr
the pretext of di
suading.
'Yhcn an illustrious l)crsonage was doubting about coming to

1 See Elements of LO!Jic-' Fallacies.'

206

OJ Cunning.

[Essay L
ii.

England, being offered by government an ample pension for
staying abroad, and threatened with a trial (in case of refusal)
for alleged misconduct, one of the ad\'isers of the party, wishing
for troubled ,vaters, in hopes of catching some fish, said, 'I
entrcat and implore you to accept the offer, if you are at all
conscious that any of the accusations against you are ,yell-
founded. By all mcans stay abroad, unless you are quite sure
of being able to establish your innocence.' This, of course,
produced the effect he designed; since it made a consent to
remain absent amount to a confession of guilt.
Again, the granting of some permission, coupled with some
condition which you know cannot or will not be fulfilled, is
l>ractically a prohibition.
It is said that a gentlelllan, who "'as desirous to distribute
Bibles among his poor neighbours, found thern willing and
desirous to receive them, if permitted by their clergy. lIe
accordingly applied to their bishop; ,vho applauded his liberality,
and exprcssed his hparty concurrence; only requiring that each
person should come anù ask his permission, -which he promised
never to rpfuse, except for son1e special reason. The gentleman,
llowever, found, to his surprise, that no one of his poor neighbonr

,vent to asl\: this permission. And at length he was told the
cause; viz., that if any man of humble station ,yaits on the
bishop, it is understood that this is to obtain absolution for some
heinous sin, beyond what the priest has power to pardon; and
thus his character is for ever blasted. Thus the bishop ,,-as
enaùleù to say that he had 'lever trefused any man pcrmission to
obtain a Bible!
Again, a gent1eman residing in Brittany ,vishcd, it is said,
to distribute Bihles an}ong the peol)le, and found he had to
apply to the Authorities for a licence, which the la,v of France
requires, in order to prevent the hawking of seditious publica-
tions. The official applied to did not likc hroadly to refuse,
hut granted a licence for the distribution of Fl'enc/t Bibles;
which are quite unintelligihle to the poor Bretons. 'Yhat was
,,'anted ,vas, of COUl
se, a licence to distribute Bibles in their own
.toJ/gue, ,,'hich is a dialect of 'Yelsh. But this could not he
obtained. He had granted a licence for the sale of Bibles, and
that 'was enough!
Eyen so the stork in the fable was 'welcome to as luuch

ay xxii.]

Annotations.

20 7

soup as she could pick up "ith her bill, and t11e wolf to as
Illuch mince-meat as he could get out of a narrow.-llccke<l
bottle.
.Again, a l)CrSOll who had the control of a certain public hall,
was askcd for the use of it fol' a nlceting of a society estahlished
in c
pre:ss opposition to an institution he was connected with.
lIc Inight, on that ground, very fairly have refused permission"
or have frankly retracted it, on consideration, if hastily ana
inconsiderately grantcd. But he rcadily grantcd the use of the
hall; and thcn afterwards inserted the condition that none of
the
pei1kcrs '\"fere to say anything against !tis institution; and
as this was, of cour
e, the principal topic designed to be dwelt
Oil, the condition was rcfllsed, and the !Jern1Íssion withdra WIl.
I[c could no nlore go straight to any object than a hare in
going from hcr form to hcr pasture.
A
kilful sophist will ayoid a direct as
ertion of what he means
unduly to aSSUlne; because that Inight direct thp reader's
attcntion to the consideration of the question, whether it be
true or not; since that which is indisputable does not need so
often to be as
erted. It succecds better, therefore, to allude to
thc proposition, as
onlething curious and renlarkable: just as
the ltoyal Socicty were inlposcd on by being asked to accouzd
1m. tIle fact that a yessel of 'water recei,-ed no addition to its
weight by a live fish being put into it. 'Yhile they were seeking
for the cause, they forgot to ascertain the fact; and thus ad-
n1Ïtted, without suspicion, a mere fiction. So also, an emiuent
Scotch writcr, in
tead of asserting that the ' ad '
ocates of logic
have heen worsted and driven from the field in every controver
y,'
(an as
crtion which, if made, would have been the lnore readily
a
certaincd to he IJerfectly groundless) Inerely obselTes, that 'it
is a circulllstance not a little rernarkable.'

, Thel'e be t!tat can pack the cards, and yet cannot play 'well.'

Those whom Bacon here so '\"fcll describes, are Inen of a
clear and quick 8ight, but short-sighted. They are ingenious
ill particular::;, but canllot take a comprehensive view of a whole.
Such a nlan may make a good captain, but a bad general. He
nlay be clevcr at surprising a piquet, but would fail in the

208

Of Cunning.

[Essay xxii.

managen)ent of a great army and the conduct of a campaign.
lIe is like a chess-player who takes several pawns, but is check-
mated.
Goldsmith introduces, in The Vicar of 1Vakefield, a cleyel'
rogue, despising a plain straight-for,vard farn1er, whom he gene-
rally contrives to cheat once a year; yet he confesses that, in
spite of this, the farmer .went on thriving, ,,,hile he .was always
poor.
Indeed, it is a remarkable circumstance in reference to
cunning persons, that they are often deficient, not only in conl-
prehensive far-sighted wisdom, but even in prudent, cautious
circumspection.
There was a man of this description, ,,,ho delighted in taking
in e,Tery one he had to deal with, and was most ingenious and
successful in doing so. And yet his own estate, ,vhich was a
very large one, he 11lanagec1 very ill; and he hequeathed it abso-
lutely to his widow, whom he might have known to be in under-
standing a n1ere child, and .who accordingly became the prer
of fortune-hunters.
Numerous are the cases in .which the cunning are grossly
taken in by the cunning. Liars are often credulous.
l\Iany travellers have given curious accounts of the suhtiltr
of the North American Indians, in stealing upon their enemies
so as to take them by surprise: how they creep silently through
the bushes, and carefully cover up their footmarks, &c. But
these writers take no notice of the most curious circunlstance
of all, which is, that the enemies they thus surprise are usually
Indians of the saIne race-men accustomed to practise just the
same arts then1selyes. The ingenuity and caution of these
people is called forth, and admirably displayed, on the occasion
of their setting out on a warlike expedition; but they haye no
settled habit of even ordinary prudence. 'Yhen not roused to
the exertion of their faculties by some pressing emergency, ther
are thoughtless and careless, and liable to be surprised, in their
turn. To fortify their villages, so as to make a surprise impos-
sible, or to keep up a regular patrol of sentries to .watch for the
appl'oach of an enemy, has never occurred to thcln! A savage
is often a cunning, but never a wise, or even a prudent Being.
And even so, among us, many wl10 are skilful in playing tricks
on others are often tricked themselves.

Essay xxii.]

AnJlotations.

20 9

It may bc addcd that the cunning are oftcn r1cceived by those
"Who have no such intention. 'Yhen a plain, straightforward
Jnan dcclarcs plainly his real motives or designs, they set them-
seh'es to guess what these are, and hit on every possible solution
but the right, taking for granted that he cannot mean what he
says. Bacon's remark on this we have already given in the
, ...\ntithcta on Sinu1lation and Dissimulation.' 'He who acts in
all things openly does not deccive the less; for n10st persons
either do not understand, or do not believe him.'

, l{otldn!J dotll rn01.e hurt in a Slate titan that cunning 'J}zen pass
for 1vise.'
Churchill thus dcscribes the cunning man:-
, ',"lth that low cunning which in fools supplies,
A ml amply too, the place of being wise,
'Yhich X ature, kind, indulgent. parent, g3.ve
To qualify the blockhead for a knave;
"'ith that smooth falsehood whose appearance charms,

\nd Reason of each wholesome doubt disarms,
"11Îch to the lowest ùepths of
uile descends,
By vilest means pursues the vilest enùs;
'Vears friendship's mask for pnrpo::.'cs of spite,
Fawns ill the day, anù butchers in the night.'l

It is indeed an unfortunate thing for the Public that the
cunning pass for wise,-that those whom Bacon COlllpares to 'a
bouse with cOll,renient stairs and entry, but never a fair room'
should be the men who (accordingly) are the most likely to ri::;e
to high otfice. The art of gainin!J powcr, and that of using it
well, are too often found in different persons.

1 TIle Rosciad, 1. I 17,

ESSAY XXIII. OF 'VISD01\I FOR A
fAN'S
SELF.

A N ant is a wise creature for itself, but it is a shre,vcl I thing
in an orchard or garden; and certainly men that are great
lover3 of thenlselves waste 2 the public. Divide with reason
between self-love and society; and be so true to thyself as thou
be not false to others, especially to thy king and country. It
is a poor centre of a nIan's actions, himself. It is right earth;
for that only stands fast upon his own centre; ,,,hereas all
things that haye affinity with the heavens move upon the centre
of another, which they benefit. The referring of all to a man's
self is more tolerable in a sovereign prince, because themselves
are not only themselves, but their good and evil is at the peril
of the public fortune: but it is a desperate evil in a servant to
a prince, or a citizen in a republic; lor whatsoever affairs pass
such a man's hands, he crooketh 3 them to his own ends, which
must needs be often eccentric, to the ends of his master or State:
therefore, let princes or States chuse such servants as have not
this ll1ark, except they mean their service should be made but
the accessary. That which maketh the effect more pernicious
is, that all proportion is lost. It w"ere disproportion enough for
the servant's good to be preferred before the master's; but yet it
is a greater extreme, when a little good of the servant shall
carry things against the great good of the master's: and yet
that is the case of had officers, treasurers, ambassadors, generals,
and other false and corrupt servants, which set a bias 4 upon their
bowl, of their own petty ends and envies, to the overthro" of
their master's great and important affairs. And for the most

1 Shrewd. ..lIÏ8chievous.

, Do my Lord of Canterbury
A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever.'-S}takespere.
2 "... aste. To lay waste; to desolate.
'Peace to corrupt, no less than war to waste.'-lfIilton.
3 Crook. To pervert. ' St. Augustine sayeth himsplf that images be of more
force to crooke an unhappye soule than to teach and instruct llim.'-Homilies-
, Sermon against Idolatry.'
4 Bias. A weight lodged on one side of the bOlcl,which turns itfrom the straight litle.
':::\fadam, we'll play at bowls,-
'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs,
And that my fortune runs against the bias.'-Shalcespere.

E
3ay xxiii.]

AnJlotations.

211

part, thc good such servants rcceive is after the model of their
own fortunc, hut the hurt they ::;cll for that good is after the
model of thcir master's fortune. And certainly it is the nature
of extrcme sclf-Iovers, as I they will set a house on fire and
it
were hut to roast thcir eggs; and yet these men many times
hold credit with theil' Juasters, because their study is but to
plcase then1, and profit themselyes; and for either respect 3 they
will ahandon the good of thC'ir affairs.
'Yisdom for a man's
elf is, in many branches thereof, a
dcpraved thing: it is the wisdon1 of rats, that ,vill be sure to
lea\Te a house some time before its fall: it is the wisdolll of the
fox, that thrusts out the badger, who digged and made room
for him: it is the wi::,dolll of crocodiles, that shed tears when
thcy would dCYOUl'. But that which is specially to be noted is,
that tho
e which (as Ciccro says of Pompey) are 'sui amantes

ine l'ivali' 4 are many times unfortunate; and w.hereas they
havc all thcir time sacrificcd to themselves, they become in the
end thcnlSch"cs bacrifices to the incon
tancy of fortune, who
e
wings they thought by their self-wisdom to have pinioned.

ANNOTATIOSS.

An ant is a shrewd thing in a ga)"den.'

This was probably the cstablished notion in Bacon's time,
as it is with some, pcrhaps, now. People seeing plants in a
sickly state covered \\ ith ants, attributed the mischief to thelll ;
the fact being that the ants do thcm neither harnl nor good,
but arc occupied in Bucking the secretion of the aphides "hich

warm on diseased plants, and are partly the causc, partly the
etlèct of di
ca
e. If he had carefully watched the allts, be would

1 As. That. ::5ee page 22.
2 And. If. (.An' it like you.'-Shakespere.
3 R
ßpect. COil,sideralion.
(There's the respect
That males calamity of so long life.' -Shakespere.
.. 'Lovers of themselves without a rival.' -Cic. ad Q. F. I I I, 8.
P2

212

Of riTisdOJn for a 1J1 au's Self.

[Essay xxiii.

have seen them sucking the aphides} and the aphides sucking
the plant.
But Bacon} though he had a great fancy for luaking obser-
yations and experiments in every branch of natural philosophy
and natural hi
tory, was rcmarl\:ably unskilful in that depart-
luent. His obser,'ations were slight and inaccurate, and his
reasonings from them very rash.. It is true .we ought not to
measure a nlan of those days by the standard of the present}
,,"hen science has-partly through Bacon's mcans-made such
advances. But he was belo,v (in this point) what n1Ïght have
been attained, and ,vas attained, in his o,,'n day. Copernicus'
theory was not unkno,vn in his day; yet he seen1S to have
thought lightly of it. Also Gilbert the J\lagnetist he did not
duly appxeciate. And most reillarkable of all, perhaps} is his
error-noticed in the preface-respecting the n1istlctoe.
Unlike Bacon, Socrates greatly discouraged all branches of
natural philosophy. According to Xenophon, he derided those

vho inquired concerning the 1110tions of the heavenly bodies, the
tides, the atmosphere, &c.} asking .whether they expected to he
able to control these things? or whether} again, they had so
completely mastered all that related to hU111an affairs, of which
l\Ian does possess the control, that they might afford to devote
themsel yes to speculations rClnote from practice?
That nature can be controlled, by oheying (and only by
obeying) her la,vs (' N aturæ non imperatur, nisi parendo')} the
maxim which Bacon so earnestly dwplls on, and which furnishes
the proper answer-though well worthy of that earnestness,-
is "'hat all n1ankind-eyel1 sayages-have always in SOIne degree
acted on. For he who so,vs his corn at the season ,vhen he
has observed that fertilizing rains may be expected, and so that
by the time it approaches maturity the season of sunshine may
be expected, does virtually command rain and sun. .And the
Inariller conlmallds the winds and tides} "Tho so tilnes his voyage,
from obser,'ation, as to be likely to lueet lrith favourable winds
aud tides. And so in an infinite nUlnber of other cases.

, Divide 'with reason between se(f-love and society; altd be so true
to thyself as thou be not false to others.'
The difference between self-love and selfishness has been well
eXplained by Aristotle, though he has not accounted for the use

E
say xxiii.]

Annotations.

2[3

of the word 1HÀavTla. It is clear tlHlt selfbhne
8 exists only in
l'CfCl'euce to others, and could havc no place in onc who liycd
alone on a desert island, though he might have of course cvcry
degree of self-love; for selfishncss is not an e
cess of ::;clf-Iove,
and cOll
ists not in an o\Ter-dcsire of happiness, but in placing
your happincss in s0111cthing which interferes with, or leayes
yon regardless of, that of othcrs. N or are we to suppose that
sclfi
hllC
S and want of feeling are cither the same or insepa-
rahle. For, on the one hand, I have knoTI"n such as have had
vcry little feclillg, but felt for othcrs as mu('h neady as for
themsclves, and wcre, therefore, far from selfish; and, on the
other haud, somc of very acute feelings, feel for no one but
thcul
cl vcs, anù, indeed, are sOlnetimcs alnongst the most cruel.
U udcr this hcad of the 'dividing betwcen sclf-love and
socicty' may be placcd a distinction Inade by Bishop Coplcston 1
betwccn two things which he
ays are occasionally confounded
hy Locke, as ,ycll as lllost other "riters on education.. ' Two
thillg
/ he renlarks, ' ought to he kcpt pcrfectly distinct-viz.,
that mode of cducation which would be most beneficia], as a
systcm, to socicty at large, with that which would contribute
most to the a(h'antage and prosperity of an individual. N o 'V,
the peculiar interest of the individual is not always the saIne,
i
seldolll pl'cci
ely the same, is eycn frequently at variance,
with the intcrest of the public. ..And he who servE'S the one
mo
t faithfully always forgets, and often injures, the other.
The latter is that alone which dese;\-es the attention of a
l)hilosophcr; the forn1er-indi\'idual interest-is narrow, selfish,
and nlercellary. It is the mode of education ,,-hich would fit
for a specific employment, or contribute most to individual
advantage and prosperity, on which the "orId are most eager to
illforni thell1seh:es; but the pcrsons who instruct theIu, how-
('\'cr thcy nlay deseryc the thanks and estcem of those ,,-horn
thcy bcncfit, do no .scI'vice to ll1ankind. There are but so many

ood places in the theatre of lifc; and he who puts us in the
way of procuring one of them does to us indecd a great fa\-our,
but none to the whole assen1bly.' He adds a little after, ' A
wide space is lcft to the discretion of the individual, where the
claiuls of the community are either not pressing or whoUr silent.'

1 .J[emúil' of BislLOP Copleston, page 3 0 7. .

2 1 4

Of TT 7 isdom fo'þ" a l.[an's Self.

[Essay xxiii.

Another point in which the advantage of the individual is
quite distinct fron} that of the public, I have touched upon in
a Leclilre on the Professions, from which I take the liberty of
adrling an extract. 'It is worth remarking that there is one
point ,vherein some branches of the la,v differ from others, and
agree with some professions of a totally different class. SUjJeri01"
ability and professional skill, in a Judge, or a Conyeyancer,
are, if combined with integrity, a jJublic benefit. They
confer a service on certain individuals, not at the expense of
any others: and the death or retirement of a man thus qualified,
is a loss to the connnunity. And the same may be said of a
IJhysician, a manufacturer, a navigator, &c., of extraordinary
ability. A pleader, on the contrary, of puwers far above the
average, is not, as such, serviceable to the Public. lIe obtains
,yealth and credit for hinlself and his family; but any special
advantage accruing from his superior ability, to those who
chance to be his clients, is just so much loss to those he chances
to be opposed to: and which party is, on each occasion, in
the right, must be regarded as an even chance. His death,
therefore, 'would be no loss to the Public; only, to those parti-
cular persons who n1ight have benefited by his superior abilities,
at their opponents' expense. It is not that advocates, generally,
are not useful to the Public. They are even nece
sary. But
extraordinary ability in an advocate, is an advantage only to
himself and his friends. To the Public, the most desirable thing
is, that pleaders should be as equally rnatched as possible; 80
that neither John Doe nor Richard Roe should have any adyan-
0/
tage independent of the goodness of his cause. Extraordinary
ability in an advocate n1ay indeed raise him to great ,yealth, or
to a seat on the bench, or in the senate; and he may use these
adyantages-as many illustrious eÅarnples sho.w, greatly to the
public benefit. But then, it is not as an advocate, directly,
but as a rich man, as a judge, or as a senator, that he thus
lJenefits his country.'

T ' . .. ]

:;;ay XXIll.

Annotatiolls.

21-
.J

, Bad oificel.s, treasurers, ambassadors, generals, and otller false
and cornlpi servants, set a bias upon their bowl, of their OUJ/1
petty ends and ellcies, to the orel.tkrow of their IIlaster's great
and imjJortant af}itlrs.'

It 8ee111S not to haye occurred to Bacon that the n1ischief
hc so "ell describes could take place except from tlle :::;elfish
wisdom of persons entrusted 'lcitlt some employnzent, and sacri-
ficing the intcrcst of thcir erllployer to their 0" n. But in
truth, the greatest amount of evils of this class-that is, the
f'acrific
of public good to indi,'idual profit,-has arisen from the
favour clainlecl by, and shown to, ccrtain classes of men, in no
official situation, who have pcrsuaded thc nation (and, doubtless,
sometÍlnes thenlselvcs also), that thcir own interest ,,,as that of
the State. 130th the Spaniards and the English prohibited
their colonies fronl trading \\ ith any but the mother country;
and a1:so from manufachuiug for themselves; though the
colonists were fellow-citizcns, and were virtually taxed for the
profit, not of the
tate, but of certain manufacturers and mer-
('hant
. f"or, if they had found the goods produced in the
Illother-coulltry to be cheaper and bctter than they could make
for thcnlSch"es, or buy elsewhere, they ,,'ould have supplied
thcmsch"cs with these of tlieir own accord, without need of 1)1'0-
hibiting laws; but "henever this was not .the case-that is,
whcncyer there ,vas any occasion for such a la"r,-it is plain
ther ""ere paying an extra price, or buying inferior articles, for
the profit of the manufacturers at home. Yet this never seemed
to strike even the A.merieans then1
elves, or thcir advocates, at
th
tilue when tI1C revolt broke out. It was only ayowed taxa-
tion for the bcnefit of thc gorernment at home (,vhich /tad laid
out something for them) that they complained of.
And this did not arise from comparative indiffcrence to the
"clfare of our colonial fel1ow-suhiects j for the like sort of
policy has hCPll long pursued at home. 'Ye imported timber of
infcl'ior quality from Canada, when better was to be had at a
tenth part of thc distancc, le
t
aw-mills in Canada, and timber-
ship
engaged in that trade, should suffer a diminution of profit;
though the total valuc of thelll all put togcther did not probably
equal the (/ n nual loss sustained by the Public. And we pro-
hibitcd the refining of
ugar in the sugar colonies, and chose to

216

OJ 1VisdO'fl't for a JJlan's Self.

[Eðsay xxiii.

Ï1nport it in the most bulky and most perishable form, for the
benefit of a few English sugar-bakers; whose total profits did not
probably amount to as many shillings as the nation lost pounds.
And the land-o,vners maintained, till very lately, a monopoly
against the bread-consumers, which amounted virtually to a
tax on every loaf, for the sake of keeping up rents.
'Other selfishness,' says l\Ir. Senior, in his Lectures on
Political Econolny, 'may he as intense, but none is so unblush-
ing, because none so much tolerated, as that of a monopolist
claiming a vested interest in a public injury/ But, doubtless,
many of these claimants persuaded theulselves, as well as the
nation, that they were promoting the public good.

ESS.A. Y XXI'{. OF IXXOV
\.TIOXS.

\ S the births of living creatures at fir3t are iIl-
hapcn, so are
......-t all innovations, which arc the births of time; yet, notwith-

tandillg, as thos0 that first bring honour into their family are
cOlnnlOllly n101'C wOl'thv than 11l0st that 8uccced, 80 the fir:-,t

preccdcnt (if it bc good) is seldom attained by imitation: for
ill, to man's nature as it stands pcrverted, hath a natural motion,

trongcst in continuance; hut goot1, as a forced 1110tion, strongest
at first. Surely e"cry Inedicine is an innovation, and he that
will not apply ncw rcmedies must expect new cvils: for time is
the greatcst innovator; and if time of course alters things to 1
the "Worsc, and W"i
dom and coun
el shan not alter them to the
hctter, what shaH be t110 cnd r It is true, that what is settled
hy cu
tOlll, though it be not good, yet at least it is fit; and
those things which have long gone together, are, as it ,,-ere,
confcdcrate within thcmseh-C's; "hcreas new things piece not so
well; but, though they help by their utility, yet they trouble
hy thcir illconfonnity;2 bcsidcs, they are like strangers, n10re
adn1Ïrcd, and less favolucd. All this is true, if time stood still;
which, contrariwise, moyeth so round/ that a froward rctention
of custoln is a:ö: turhulent a thing as an innovation; and they
that rc'"crcnce too lnuch old tinles, are but a scorn to the ne"T.
It were good, therefore, that men in their innovations, "Tould
follow the example of time itself, which indeed iuno\"ateth
greatly, but quietly, and by degrces scarce to be perceiycd; for
otherwise, whatsocyer is new i:-. ulliooked for-and eyer it mends
sonlC, and pail.s4 others; and he that is holpen takes it for a
fortune, and thanks the tinle; and he that is hurt, for a wrong,
and inlputeth it to the author. It is good also not to try ex-

1 To. For.
'
Iarh.s and points out each man of us to slaughter.'-Ben Jonson.
2 Incont()rmity. Incon!J1"1âl!J; discordance.
3 Hound. Rapid. 'Sir Roger heard them on a 'round trot.'-Addison.
4 Pair. To i npair.
, , Xo f:iith so fast)' quoth
l}e) 'but flesh docs paire.'
, .Flesh may impaire: quoth he, , but reason can repaire.' '-Spenser.
· "'hat profiteth it to a man if he wynne all the worM, and do pegringe to his
..unl ;-'- \\ïcklift'.s Translation of Mark viii.

218

Of Inno'l'ations. ,

[Essa Y XXI,r.

periments in States, exC'ept the necessity be urgent, or the utility
eyident; and well to beware, that it be the reforn1atÌon that
draweth on the change, and not the desire of change that pre-
tendeth 1 the reformation: and lastly, that th
novelty, though
it be not rejected, )ret be held for a suspect; 2 and, as the
Scripture saith, ( That we make a stand upon the ancient ,yay,
and then look about us, and discover what is the straight and
right way, and so to 'walk in it.'3

A
TITHETA ON IX
OVATIOX
.

PRO.
'Omnis medicina innovatio.
, El
er!l medicament is an innovation.'

'Qui nova remedia fugit, nova mala
operitur.
'He 'It'ho sltUns new remedies must
expect new erils.'

, N ovator maximus tempus: quidni
igitur tempus imitemur ?
, Time is the great innovator; why
then not imitate Ti1ne?'

'::Morosa morum retel1tio, res tur-
bulenta est æque ac novitas.
, .A. stubborn adlterence to old practices
b,'eeds tumults no less titan novelly.'

, Cum pel' se res mutel1tur in deterius,
si consi1io in melius non mutenÌ1u', quis
finis erit mali ?
'Since things spontaJzeously change
for the 'Worse, if tlley be not by design
changed for the beller, evils 'iiutst accu-
mulate 'lvitlwut end.'

COXTRA.
, X u11us auctor placet, prætcr tempus.
, Oue bows willingly to no a1 l 17lO r rilg
but Time.'

'Nulla noyitas absque injuria; nam
præsentia convellit.
, Erer!! novelty does some hurf,fo')' it
unsettles 'lvlwt is establislled.'

'Quæ usu obtinuere, si n011 bona, at
saltem apta inter se sunt.
, Tltings tlwt are settled by 1011g 'l'se,
if itOt absolutely good, at leal,.t fit 'lcell
together.'

, Quis novntor tempus imitntur, quod
novationes ita insinuat, ut sen
us fallal1t?
, Show me the innovator wlLO imitates
Time, that slides in changes imper-
ceptibly.'

, Quod præter spem evenit, cui pro-
<lest, minus acceptum; cui obest magis
molestum.
, 1rhat happens 'ltne:rpecled',ll is, for
that reason, less 'It'elcome to flim 'lchom
it profits, and more galling to him 'whom
it hurts.'

1 Pretend. To put fo}'wm'd, or exltibit as a cover.
'Lest that heavenly form, pretended
To hellish falsehood, snare them.'-.JIiltoll.
2 Suspect. Something suspicious. 'If the king enùs the difference, and tah.cs
away the sllspect.'-Suckling.
3 Compare Jer. vi. 16.

]

say xxi\'.l

Annotations.

2J9

ANNOT.A.TlüXS.

, Time is tile greatest illlloraÜû'.'

'YhCll Bacon spcaks of tiu1e as an 'innoyatol',' he Jl1ight
lut\'e rClnarked, by the way-what of course he well knew-
that though this is an allowable and convcnicnt form of ex pres-
.

ion, it is not litcrally correct. Bishop Copleston, in the remark
already referred to ill the notes on ' Delays,' tenus the regarding
tilne as an agent one of the commoncst errors; for 'in reality
time does nothing and is nothing. 'Ye use it,' he goes on to
say, 'as a compendious expression for all those causes which act
slo\\ ly and Ï111perccptihly. But, unlcss sonle po
itiyc cause is
in action, no change take.
place in the lapse of one thousand
years; as, for instance, in a drop of water enclosed in a cavity of
silc
. The most intelligent writers are not free from this
illusion. [."01' instancc, Sin1ond, in his S'wit:erland, speaking
of a 111onntain-sCcIle says--' Thc quarry from 'which the n1a-
terials of the Lridge caIne, is just abo,ye your head, and the miners
arc still at work: air, water, frost, weight, and time.' Thus, too,
tho
p politicians who object to any positi,ye enactments affecting
tlH
Constitution, and who talk of the gentle operation of time,
and of our Constitution itself being the ".ork of tilne, forget
that it is human agency all along which is the efficient cause.
Time docs nothing.' Th ns far Bishop Copleston. l
But we arc so much influenced by our own use of language,
that, though no one can doubt, when the question is put hefore
him, that eftects are produced not by time, but in tin1e, "e are
accu
ton1ed to repr
sent time as armed "ith a scythe, and
roo" ing down all before hÍln.

, 1,-rew things are like strangers, rllore aduzired, and less
fllt.oured.'
Bacon has on1itted to notice, in reference to t1lis point, what
llc\-crthelc:s
is well worth rcn1arkillg as a curious circulllstance,
thas there arc in nlost languages proycrbial sayings respecting
it, apparcntly opposcd to cach other; as for instance, that ll1Cll

1 Remaills of Bishop Copleston.

220

OJ Innovations.

[E
say xxiv.

are attached to what they ha'-e been used to; that use is a
second nature; that they fonùly cling to the institutions and
practices they have been accustomed to, and can hardly be pre-
vailed on to change then1 eyeu for better; al1d then, again, on
the other side, that men ha,-e a
atural craving for novelty;
that unvarying salneness is tiresome; that SOlne' ariety-son1e
change, even for the worse, is agreeably refreshing, &c.
The truth is, that in all the serious and important affairs of
life men aloe attacheù to 'That they have been used to; in
matters of ornantent they co,Tet nO'TeltJT; in all systems and
institutions-in all the ordinary business of life-in all funda-
mentals-they cling to what is the established course; in lnatters
of detail-in ,vhat lies, as it were, on the surface-they seek
yariety. l\Ian may, in reference to this point, be compared to
a tree ,vhose stem and nlain branches stand year after year, but
whose leaves and flowers are changed every season.
In most countries people like change in the fashions of their
dress and furniture; in almost all, they like ne,v music, ne,v
poems, and novels (so called in reference to this taste), pictures,
flowers, games, &c., but they are 'wedded to what is established
in laws, institutions, systems, and in all that relates to the
main business of life.
This distinction is one which it may often be of great impor-
tance to keep in mind. For instance, the ancient Romans and
other Pagans seldom objected to the addition of a new god to
their list; and it is said that some of them actually did propose
to enrol Jesus aUlong the nun1her. This ,yas quite consonant
to the genius of their Inythological system. But the overthro,v
of the whole system itself, and the sub
titution of a fundamen-
tally different religion, ,vas a thing they at first regarded with
alarm and horror; all their feelings ,vere enlisted against such
a radical change. And allY one who should ilTIagine that the
Gospel could be receiyed with some degree of fayour on account
of its being new, because, forsooth, men like no,.elties, and that,
therefore, son1ething short of the n10st overpowering Iniraculous
proofs might have sufficed for its introduction and spread, such
a person must haye entirely oyerlooked the distinction bct"een
the kinds of things in ,vhich lncn do or do not fayour what is
new.
And the like holds good in all departments of life. K ew

E...;:,ay }. "iv.J

Annotations.

221

nlcdicille
, for instance, comp into vogne from tinle to time,
with or without good rcason; but a funr1anlentally new system
of medicine, whether right or wrong, i
sure to haxe the strongest
prejudices cnlisted against it. If when the celebrated I-Iarvey
disco\'crcd the circulation of the blood) he had, on the ground
that people often rcadily introduced sonlC HCW nlpdicine, calcu-
lated on a fa ,'ourable rcception, or evcn a fair hcaring for his
doctrine, which ,,'ent to establis11 a fuudamental revolution, he
would soon have bccn undecei'Tcd by the ychcment and general
opposition with which he was encountcred.
And it was the phy
icians of the highest standing that most
opposed Harvey. It wa::; the most experienced navigators that
opposed Colulnbus' views. It was those most conversant with
thc lnanagelnent of the Post-office that ,vere the last to appro,'e
of the plan of the unifornl penny-postage. For, the greater any
onc's experience and skill in his own department, and the more
he is entitled to the deference which is proverbially due to each
Ulan in his own pro\'incc [' peritis credelldulll c
t in arte sua']
the more likely, indeed, he will be to be a good judgc of im-
pro,'enlellts in details, or e'"en to introduce thcm hinlself; but
the more unlikely to gi,'e a fair hearing to any proposed radical
chauf!e. ....\n experienced stage-coachnlan is likely to be a good
judgc of all that relatcs to turnpikc-roads and coach-horses; but
you should not cOll
ul t him about railroads and steam-carriages.
Again, everyone knows how :slo\\ ly and with what difficulty
farmcrs are pre,'ailcd on to adopt any new systenl of husbandry,
evcn "hen the faults of an old established usage, and the
ad \-antage of a change, can be made eyident to the senses.
l\n anecdote is told of a gentlenlan who, in l'idillg through
the dccp and shady Dcyonshire lanes, bccame entangled in the
intricacies of their numberless "indings; and not being able to
obtain a sufficiently wide view of the country to know where-
ahouts he was, trotted briskly on, in the confident hope that he
should at length COllle to son1e house whose inhabitants would
direct hÍ1n, or to SOlne nlOl'e open spot from which he could
take a survey of the different roads, and observe whither they
Jcd. After proceeding a long time in this lllannC'l', he was sur-
prise(l to find a perfect ulliforn1Ïty in the countrr through which
he passc(l, and to nlcet with no hUlnan heing, or conle in sight
of any habitation. lIe was, howe,'cr, encouraged by observing,

222

OJ Innovations.

[Essay xxiy.

as he advanced, the prints of horses' feet, ,vhich indicated that
he was in no unfrequented track: these became continually
more and more l1UlllerOU
the furtller he ,vent, so as to afford
him a still increasing assurance of his being in the immediate
lleighbourhood of some great road or populous village; and he
accordingly paid the less anxious attention to the bearings of
the country, from being confident that he ,,-as in the right way.
But stiH he sa,v neither house nor human creature j and, at
length, the recurrence of the same objects by the roadside
opened his eyes to the fact, that all this time, misled by the
multitude of the turnings, he had been riding in a circle; and
that the footmarks, the sight of which had so cheered him, "
ere
those of !tis own horse; their llunlbcr, of course, increasing with
every circuit he took. IIad he not fortunately made this dis-
covery, perhaps he might have been riding there no,v.
The truth of the tale (and we can assure our readers that 'we
at least did not invent it) does not make it the less useful by
,yay of apologue: and the moral ,ve ,vould deduce from it is,
that in many parts of the conduct of life, and not least in
government and legislation, men are liable to follow the track
of their own footsteps,-to set themselves an exan1ple,-and to
flatter thelllselves that they are going right, from their con-
formity to their Q"wn precedent.
It is comlnollly and truly said, ,vllen any new and untried
measure is proposed, that we cannot fully estimate the incon-
veniences it may lead to in practice; but ,ve are con\Tinccd this
is even still more the ('ase with any systeln which has long been
in operatíon. The evils to which it may contribute, and the
obstacles it lnay present to the attainment of any good, are
partly overlooked, or lightly regarded, on account of their
familiarity, partly attributed to such other causes as perhaps
really do co-operate in producing the same effects, and ranked
along .with the unavoidable alloys of human happiness,-the
inconveniences from ,,'hich no human policy can entirely exempt
us. In some remote aHd unimproved districts, if you conlPlain
of the streets of a to,vn being dirty and dark, as those of London
,,-ere for many ages, the inhabitants tell you that the nights are
cloudy and the weather rainy: as for their streets, they are just
such as they have long been; and the expedient of paving and
lighting has occurred to nobody. The ancient R.omans had,

E...say xxiv.J

AnJlotations.

223

prohahly, no idea that a civilized cOllununity could exist without
shn es. r.rhat the sanIC wor!,- can be done luuch bettcr and
cheaper by freemen, and that their odious systelu contained the
ðccd., of the destruction of their empire, wcre truths which,
fanÚlim'iz('(] as they" ere to the then existing state of society,
they were not likely to suspect. ' If you allow of no l)lunder-
illg,' ðaid an astonishcd )Iahratta chief to some English officers,
, how is i t po
sible for you to Inaintain such fine armies as you
bring into the field ?' lIe and his ancestors, time out of mind,
had doubtless been fullolt'ing t!leir OlO}l footsteps in the esta-
blished routine; and had accordingly ne,-er dreamed that pillage
is inexpedient as a source of revenuc, or eyen one that can
po

ibly he dispensed '",ith. 1 Recent experiUlellt, illdeec1, nlay
bring to light and often exaggerate the defects of a new system;
hut long jalniliarity blinds us to those yery defects. 2
The practical consequcnce of this attachment of men to ,vhat
they ha,'c long been used to is, that it is a great point gained,
when there does exist need for a change, to ha\-e brought about
SOllle change, even though little or nothing of impro,-ement,
because we may look forward with cheering hope to a 1.el/ledy
of the remedy-a removal of the newly-introduced eyils,-as a
change far more easily to be brought about than the first
change. _\lterations in any building are easily made 'wllile tile
TJiOrtar i:> wet. ' So it is in legislation and in all human affairs.
'Yhilc the' most inconyenient and absurd laws are suffered to
remain unchanged for successi'7e gencrations, hardly an act is
pa
sed that any defects in it are not met by 'acts to amend' it,
in thc ncxt and in succeeding scssions.
'Tho
c who remenlber the University of Oxford at the C0111-
nlencen1cnt of this century, when, in fact, it hardly deserved
thc name of an lmi\7ersity,-who remcmber with what difficulty,
aud after what long dclay, the first statute for degree-examina-
tions "a
introduced-how palpable were the defects of that
statutc, and how inlperfectly it "orked,-and, lastly, how easily,
in cOIIlpari
on, thcse defccts were, one by one, remedied, and suc-
cessivc ilupro,-emcnts from time to time introduced,-such per-
sons must ha\"c profited little by experience, if they deprecate the

1 C That is the way it is always done, Sir;' or C \Ye alwaJs do 80 and so i' are the
answers generallJ returned by tbe vulgar to an inquiry as to the reason of any
pradicc. 2 London Ret"ieu', 182 9'

224

Of Innovations.

[Essay xxi,'.

application of any remedy to any existing law or institution that
is in itself evil, for fear the relnedy should not be such, in the
first essay, as to meet their yvishes. H

, A fíowar'd retention of custorn is as turbulent as an innova-
tion; and they t/tat reverence old tinzes too 1nuch are but a
scorn to the nelv.'

To avoid the two ollposite evils-the liahility to sudden and
violent changes, and the adherence to established usage, l"hen
inconvenient or mischievous,-to giye the requisite stahility to
governlllcnts and other institutions, .without shutting the door
against improvement,-this is a problem which both ancient and
Dlodern legislators have not well succeeded in solving. Some,
like the ancient l\ledes and Persians, and like Lycurgus, llave
attempted to prohibit aU change; but those who constantly
appeal to the wisdonl of their ancestors as a sufficient reason
for perpetuating everything these have established, forget two
thing
: first, that they cannot hope for ever to persuade all
successive generations of men that there ,vas once one genera-
tion of such infallible wisdom as to be entitled to control all
their descendants for e,
er j which is to make the earth, in fact,
the possession not of the living, but of the dead j and, secondly,
that eyen supposing our ancestors gifted ,vith such infallibility,
many cases must arise in "Thich it may be reasonably doubted
whether they themselves would not have advocated, if living,
changes called for by altered circumstances. For instance, those
who denoted the southern quarter from 'J}le'J'idies (noon) would
not have been so foolish as to retain that language had they
gone to live in a henlisphere where the SUll at noon is in the
north. But, as Dr. Cooke Taylor remarks in The Bishop:
, An antiquated form, however perverted from its original pur-
pose, gratifies the lazy in their love of ease; it saves them the
trouble of exchanging their old mU7upsinzus for the ne'v SUl1ZP-
SiUl'llS: and ne'lV the SUll1p:.;Ïrn'lls must appear, though it be a
restoration j it averts the Inortificatioll of confessing error, .which
is ahvays so abhorrent to the self-satisfied stupidity of those
"..ho grow old without gaining experience.'

1 See Kingdom of Christ, Appendix to Essay ii. note 0, page 355, 4th edition.

ay xxiv.J

Annotat tons.

225

, Y ('1 quia nil rectum, nisi quod placuit sihi, dncunt;
Y cl tl'lia turpe putant part>re miuorihu
, ct quæ
1mbcrbi ùidicerc, senes perdcnda fateri.'
It is to he ob:-;cr,-cd, 11owe,-e1", that in alnlost cycry depart-
nlcllt of lifc, the c,'il that has \'ery long cxi::;ted will often be
lc::;s clearly percci\"cd, and lc::;s complained of, than in proportion
to the actual extent of thc evil.
'If you look to any dcpartnlcnt of governrnent, or to any
parish or dioce:se, that has long been left to the managelnent of
apathctic or inefficient persons, you will usually find that there
are fc\\ or no con1plaint:s. Bccause complaints have long ::;ince
been found vain, will have long since ceased to be n1ade: there
"ill ùe no great arrears of business undone, and of applications
unanswered; because busincss will not have been brought be-
forc tho
e who it is known will not transact it; nor applications
luade, to which no answer can be hoped for: abuses, and defects,
and evils of various kinds, which ought to have bcen prevented
or rcmedicd-, mcn will ba\-e learned to submit to as to visitations
of Pro\'idcnce; having ùeen left without redress till they have
at lcngth forgotten that any rcdress is due, or is possible: and
this stagnation will have con1e to be regarded a:s the natural

tate of things.
'IIencc, it ",ill often bappen that in a parish for instance,
w here for a long time very little has been done, it will appear at
first sight as if there were in fact very little to do: the spiritual
wants of n1eluhers of the Church not appearing to be unattended
to, bccau
c lnany pcrsons will haye ceased to be members of the
Church, and many others will be unconscious that they have any
spiritual wants.
, And in a Church, accordingly, that has beelliong without an
efficient governmcnt, the want of such go,-ern111cllt will often be
very iuadcquately perceiveù, from its not e\-en occurring to men
to consider wh0thcr the cnormous increase of dissent, of interuaJ
òi
cOI'd, and of indiffcreuce to the Church, are evils "hich it
COUles within the pl'o,-ince of a gOVCl'nlnent ill any degree to
prc\'ent or mitigate.' 1
, 'Yith those who lnaintaill that the present is not the best
time,-on account of the violence of contenùing parties-for

1 This, and another passage in this note, are extracted from Th.ollg1ds on Cllllrcll,-
9 cjf ' er ,rmenl.

226

OJ Innovations.

[E
sa r xxi y.

the restoration of a Church-government, I so far agree, that I am
convinced it would ha, e been //luch better to have taken the step
eleyen years ago; before the excitenlellt caused by one of those
parties had arisen; and yet better, some years earlier still, when
the removal of religious disabilities first left the Church desti-
tute of any legislature consisting exclusively of its own nlen1bers :
and that again, a still earlier period "\vould have been preferable,
,vhen considerable attention ,vas for a titne attracted to a work
on the subject, by a person, then, and now, holding the office
of Archdeacon.
(But it is far from being sufficient,-as seems to be the
notion of some persons-to sho,v that the present is not the
fittest conceivable occasion for taking a certain step. Besides this,
it is requisite to sho,v,-not merely that a better occasion n1ay
be irnagined,-or that a better occasion is past ;-that the
Sibylline Books might have been purchased cheaper SOUle tinle
ago ;-but that a more suitable occasion is likcly to arise here-
after: and lzo'w soon; and also, that the mischief ,,-hich may be
going on during the inte1"val will be more than con1pensated by
the superior suitableness of that future occasion; in short, that
it ,vill have been ,vorth waiting for. And in addition to all this,
it is requisite to sho,v also the probability that when this golden
opportunity shall arise, men will be more disposed to take ad-
vantage of it than they have heretofore appeared to be ;-that
they ,,,ill not agaiu fall into apathetic security and fondness for
indefinite procrastination.
'This last point is as needful to be established as any; for it
is remarkable that those ,vho deprecate taking any step just no1.V,
in these times of extraordinary excitelnellt, did not, on those
forlner occasions, come forward to propose taking adyantage of
a comparatively cahner state of things. They neither made
any call, nor responded to the call made by others.
'And indeed all experience seen1S to show-comparing the
apathy on the subject which .was so general at those periods,
with the altered state of feeling now existillg,-that a great and
pressing emergency, and nothing else, ,,-ill induce men to take
any step in this matter; and that a period of dissension and
perplexing difficulty, is, though not, in itself, the most suitable
occasion for such a step, yet-constituted as human nature is-

Es
ay x
i\r.J

AnJlotations.

227

the bcst, because the only occasion on which one can hope
that it will be taken.
"YhCJl the vaHey of ::\Iartigny, in Switzerland, was threatencd
(a good nlany ycars ago) ,,,ith a frightful dcluge from the
hursting of a lake formed by a glacier which had dammed up a
ri,'cr, the inhabitants were for some time not sufficiently alarmed
to take steps for avcl'tiug the danger, hy cutting channels to let
off the water. They cannot, therefore, ùe said to ha,-e chosen
tile best tií/te for commencing their operations; for had they
begun carlier,-as :soon as ever the dam was formed-the work
would have bcen luuch casicr, aud probably all danlage would
ha,-e been prcvented. As it was, thcy had to encounter much
difficulty, and after all were but partially succes::,ful: for the
undraincd portion of the lake did at lcngth burst the barrier,
aua con
iderable d
unagc ell
ued; perhaps a fourth part of what
'woltld have taken place had things been lcft to thelllseives.
nut they werc wise ill not dcferring their operations yet longer,
ill thc hopc that luatters would mend spontaneously, when they
saw that the eyil was daily increasing. ...\nd after having miti-
gatcd in a great degree the calan1Ïty that did ensue, they took
lllcasurcs to pfo,-iùe against the like ill future.
, Still, howeycr, we must expect to be told by many, that,
sooner or later, 111atters win come right spontaneously, if left
untouched ;-that, in tiuw, though we cannot tcll how soon, a
pcriod of extraordinary excitement is sure to he succeeded by
onc of comparative cahn. In the rneantime it is forgotten at
w/lat cns! such spontaneous rcstoration of tranquillity i:s usually
purcha5
d-how much the fire 'will have consumed before it
shaH 11:1\ e burnt out of itsclf. The case is vcry similar to what
takes place in the natural body: the anguish of acute illflam-
]uation, whcn left to itself, is succeeded by the calnl of a 1110rti-
fication: a IÍlllb is amputated, or drops off; and the hody-but
110 longer the whole body-is restol'cù to a temporary ease, at
the c
pellse of a nllltilation. "
bo can say that a large propor-
tion of those who are now' irrecoycrably alienated fran1 the
CIllU'ch, luight not have been at this mon1cnt sound nlelnhers
of it, had tilllCly steps been taken, not by any departure from
the principles of our Refonner
, but by following more closelr
the track they lllal'kcd out for us ?'
Q2

228

Of Innovations.

[Essay xxiv.

It is true, that whateyer is established and already existing
has a presumption on its side; that is, the burden of proof lies on
those ,vito propose a change. Noone is called on to bring
reasons {lgaiJlst any alterations, till some reasons have ùeeu
offered for it. But the deference which i8 thus claimed for ohl
la,,,s and iustitutions is sometimes extended (through the ambi-
guity of language-the use of' old' for 'ancient') to what are
called 'the good old time
;' as if the w.orld had formerly been
older, instead of younger, than it is nO'L But it is manifest
that the advantage possessed by old ulen-that of long expe-
rience-Illust belong to the present age more than to anJ
preceding.
Is there not, then, some reason for the ridicule which Bacon
speaks o
as attaching to those ',,-ho too much reverence olù
times ?' To say that no changes shall take place is to talk
idly. "r e might as ,yell pretend to control the n10tions of the
earth. To resolve that none shall take place except ,,,hat are
unùesigned and accidental, is to resolve that though a clock
may gain or lose indefinitely, at least ".e ,,-in take care that it
shall never be regulated. (If time' (to use Bacon's warning
words) (alters things to the ".orse, and wi
dom and counsel
shall not alter then1 to the better, what shall be the end?'

'It were good that '{/len, in their innovations, would follow tlte
eæarnple of Time itself, 'which indeed innovateth greatly, but
quietly and by degrees scarce to be pe'rcei
.ed.'

There is no more striking instance of the silent and im-
perceptible changes brought about by "'hat is called ' Time,'
than that of a language becon 1 ing dead. To point out the
precise period at ,,-hich Greek - or Latin ceased to be a living
language, "oulcl be as impossible as to say when a man becomes
old. And much confusion of thought and many Î1nportant
practical results arise from not attending to this. }i"'or exan1ple,
many persons have never reflected on the circumstance that one
of the earliest translations of the Scriptures into a yernacular
tongue, was made by the Church of ROlne. The Latin Vulgate
"as so called from its being in the vulgar, i.e. the popular
language then spoken in Italy and the neighbouring countries;
and that version 'was evidently made on purpose that the Scrip-

ay
xiv.]

...4.nnotat ions.

229

hIres lllight bc intelligibly read hy, or read to, the nlass of the
people. But gradual1y and Í1nperceptibly Latin was superseded
hy thc languages ùeriycù from it-Italian, Spalli
h, and }1-'rcnch,
-while' the Scriptures were still left in Latin: and when it was
propo
ec1 to translate the'm into modern tongues, this "as
regarded as a perilous innovation, though it is plain that the
real illllO'"ation "as that which had takcll place inlperceptihly,
since the vcryobject proposed by the ,Y ulgate ycrsion was, that
thc
criptures might /lot be left in an unknown tongue. Yet
yon will 1l1ect with nlany among the fiercest dcclairners against
thc Church of Ronle, who earnestly deprccate any the slightest
changes in our authorized version, and cannot endure even the
gradual bubstitution of other words for such as have become
quite ob
oletc, for fear of unsettling nlen's minds. It never
occurs to thcln that it was this very dread that kcpt the Scrip-
tures in the Latin tongue, when that gradually became a dead
language.
13tlt, universally, the remoyal at once of the accumulated
effects gradually produccù in a very long tinle, is apt to strike
the vulgar as a no,"clty, when, in truth, it is only a 'restoration
of things to their original state.
}1'or example, suppose a clock to lose only one minute and
a few seconds in the week, and to be left ul1corrected for a
ycar j it \\ ill then have lost a whole hour; and allY one who
then
ets it right, will appear to the ignorant to have suddenly
roLbed theul of that amount of time.
'rhis case is precisely analogous to that of the change of
style. There was, in what is called the Julian Calendar (that
fixed by J ulius Cæ
ar) a minute error, ,vhich made every fourth
year a trifie too long; in the course of centuries the error
êunolulÌcd to cle\"en days, and when, about a century ago, ,\-e
rectified this (as had been dOllC in Ronlan Catholic countries a
century earlier), thi
IHode of reckoning "as called 'the new
style.' The Itussialls, who still use what is called 'the old

tyle,' arc now not elcvcn, but twelve days wrong; that is, they
are OllC day further fronl the original position of the days of
thc nlonth, a
tixed ill the tinie of J ulins Cæsar: and this they
tall ad/u ;.illY to thc J utian Calendar.
So, al
o, to rcject the religious practices and doctrines that
hayc erept in by little and little
ince the da)Ts of the .Apostle
,

':JO

o IIl1l0l"atiollS.

[Es
a
- '\:xiy.

and thu
to restore Christianity to ,,"bat it was under thelll,
appears to the ullthinking to be forsaking th
old religion aud
bringing in anew. 1
I t is to be obseryed that hurtful changes are often attributed
to harInlt'
s ones; and apprehell
ioll:50 are entertained that a
ell Ig, how eyer
luaU is nN?e
arily a dangerou
thing. as
tending to produce ('xten$ivp and hurtful innovations.. )Iany
instances may be found of Sluall alterations being follou"l d b
.
great and mis.chievous one
{ Post hoc j ergo propter hoc'); but
I doubt "hether all history can furnish an in
tance of the
greater innovation having been, properly speaking, cau;:ed by
the l('

er. Of COln
e the first chnnge w-ill al,,"ays precede the
second. aud many mi
chieYou5- innoyations !lare taken place;
but these may often be explained by the too long postponen1ent
of the requi
ite changes. by the neglect of the honlely old
proverb- _-\ tile in time sa'-es nine.' _\. house may stand for
ages if some Tery small repairs and alteration
are pronlptly
made from tÏnIe to time a
they are needed; whereas. if decay
i5-
utièred to go on unheeded it may become nece8Sary to pull
down and rebuild the whole hou
e. The longer any needftù
reform is delayed, the greater and the more difficult, and tl1C
more sudden and the more dangerous and unsettling, it will
be. _-\.nd then perhaps those who had cau
ed this delay by
their pertinaciou... re,istance to any change at all, will point to
tbese erils-eTils brought on by them
el"fes-in justification of
their conduct. If they would ha\"e allowed a few broken slates
on the roof to be at once replaced by new ones the timbers
w01.ùd not haye rotted nor the walls in consequence, leaned,
nor W"olÙd the house ha"f"e thence needed to be demolished and
rebuilt.
)IoSL wi,e, therefore" is Bacon's adlllonition, to copy tIle
great inno
ator time" by "f"igilantly watching for, and promptly
counteracting, the first sluall insidious approaches of decay, and
introducing gradually, from time to time, such small iUlpro"fe-
ment$ (indiridually small, but collectively great) as there ma
9
be room for, and which will preyent the necessity of "f"iolent
and sweeping reformation
.

1 Bishop Hind', views, in hi5 work on TM TIre T pl 8, baTe been censured
(as be bim
If bad anticipated) as ,; thou;;b so familiar to the ApostIe5 a, to
baTe tir:OO n t. ér 1 n;u
"e, as in tbeir us.: ot the word c roify,'
C'.

E..:--ay
:\i\.]

A notati, ng.

23 1

I I is !lood lWi to try eXperi1J2 ts i ,C::tates, e.1'cf:pt Ihe 'Jlece.'So'$ily
be urgent, or Ill. tUily f:7:'d nt; a · II to beware, ill.al 't
he ih reffJrlllatifJl1 Il,at drazreih It ih cha'9, a d not th
sire of chang that preler/de/It tli refr rmalifJlt.'
I have already expre
:,ed my belief that most men ha,e no
desire for change, a3 change, in what concern
tlJe
eriou busi-
ne
of life. True it is that, great and sudden and violent
I"hanges do take place-that ancient institutions ha,e been reck-
le-...l
Oycrthro"" n-that ,anguinary re,'olutions have taken place
in quick Bucce, ion, and that new :-:cheme:-:, often the mo
t wild and
e'ttra\ agant, both in cirn and religious matteI"', ha,e been again
and acrain introduced. 'Ye need not seek far to find countrie

o
that ha'"e had, "ithill the memory of persons now linng, not
IC' than nine or ten perfectly di:,tinct
ys.tems of O'overnment.
But no change of thi- kind ever originate in the mere !Ol:e Jf
cha ,ge or its O. s k. X ever do men adopt a neW' form of
go,ernment, or a new sy
tem of religion, merely from that
delight in variety which lead... them to ,eek new amu:;;.ements
or to alter the fa
hion of their drC'
. They 5eek changl.
in
what relate"- to serious matte
of fundamental importance, only
through the pr
nre of se\'ere sufferinJ, or of some ,ehement
want, or, at le
t, from the perception of
ome great enI or
deficiency. "fidely a
the ,'ulgar are often mi
taken a
to the
causes of any di,tre......, or as to the f:flzedies to be sought, the
distre.... it
elf i... rea], when they aim at any great revolution.
If an infant beats it
nur5e, although its acts are as irrational
a.., tho:--e of a n1ad dog, you may he a
sured that it is really in
pain. And when men are suffering from a famine or pe5tilence,
though it is absurd for them to ..eek to obtain relief by esta-
lJlishing a new kind of senate or parliament, or by
ttiDa up a
dictator, or by slaughtering all people of property, still the ern
it:-.elf i
real, and is keenly felt; and it is that, and not a mere
lo'"e of change, for change-
ke, that dri'f"
them to take the
mo,t irrational
teps.
And when erus are really occasioned by absurd and op-
pr
i,e laws and tyrannical governments, it is ri
ht and
rational to aim at a chano-e , thouah the chanaeg which an

0 0
infuriated popu1ace düe.5 bring about will usually be both ir-
1 ational and wron o fY -1ril1 o,"erthrow the O'ood alon" mth the
C 0

23 2

OJ Innovations.

[Essay xxiv.

evil, and ,vill be IJregnant with worse evils than they seek
to remedy. The ancicnt dcspotis111 of France, detestable as it
,vas, did not cause more misery in a century than the }leign of
Terror did in a year. And, universal1y, the longer and the
more grievously any people have been oppressed, the nlore
violent and extravagant will be the reaction. And the people
will often be in the condition of King Lear, going to and fro
bet"reen his daughters, and depri\Ted first of half his attendants,
then of half the renlainder, then of all.
Hence, though it is true that innovations in important rnatters
are never sought through nlcre love of change for its own sake,
but for relief from SOll1e evil, the danger is not the less, of
rash and ill-advised innovations; because evils, greater or less,
and more or less of imperfection, always do exist in all human
institutions administered by fallible nlen.
And what is more, there is seldom any kind of eyil that does
not admit of a complete and effectual remedy, if ,-re are careless
about introducing some different, and, perhaps, greater eyil in
its place. It is seldom yery difficult to danl up a stream that
incommodes us; only we should remember that it ,,-ill then
force for itself a new channel, or else spread out into an
unwholesome marsh. The evils of contested elections, the
bribery, the intinÜdation, and the deception which they often
give rise to, are undeniable; and they ,vould be completely
cured by suppressing the IIouse of Commons altogether, or
nlaking the seats in it hereditary; but ,ve should not he gainers
by the exchange. 'There are eyils belonging specificalJy to a
l)ure monarchy, and to an oligarchy, and to a democracy, and
to a mixed government: and a change in the fornl of goveru-
ment would always remedy one class of evils, and introduce
another. And under all governnlcllÍs, ci\'il and ecclesiastical,
there are e\Tils arising from the occasional incapacity or lllis-
conduct of those to whom power is entrusted; evils which
lllight be at once remedied by introducing the far greater evil
of anarchy, and leaving every man to 'do as is right in his
own eyes.' There are incon yeniences, again, froln being
governed by fixed laws, which 11lust ahrays bear hard on some
particular cases; but we should be no gainers by leaving every
judge to act like a 'rurkish cadi, entirely at his own discretion.
...\nd the like hold:5 good in all departrnents of life. There are

Es
ay
xiv.]

Annotations.

233

carc1c
s and incfficicnt clcrgynlcn: aholish (\1lc1own1ent
, and
resort to "hat i
callcù 'the yoluntary systcnl,' and you "ill
ha\ e 110 inactivc n1Ínisters; only, 'preaching' will, as Palcy
ohscn"cs, 'beconle a 11l0de of hegging.' 'l'his also mar be cured
h v ! )rohibitinO" the milli
tel's rccciyiu!! allV coutrihution
; only,
eI b
'" '"
this will confine the ministry to Dlen of fortune. And so of
the re
t.
One of the greatest evils produced by the thorough-going
Rc.;orlllcr is that the alarlll which he excites is the great
strengthener of the u1tra-conseryati,-e principle. ' Sce lrhat we

hall corne to if 'we li
ten to these loyers of change!' This is
one of the infinite nU111ber of ca
es ill which evils are brought
on by their cOlltrllì.ie.
: ill
hort, by are-action.
The mass of mankiud rush cagerly into whateyer extreme
happcns to bc thc fashion of the day; like planks floating to
and fro with the tidcs. 'l'hose a few degrees above them see
and try to avoid au crror, but take no precautions against a
contrary c\.trcnlC. 'DUlll vitant stulti yitia in contraria
curr
t.' They are like a luariner sailing and ro\ving with all
hi
ll1Ïght as f
1.r as possible against a flood-tide, and ne,'er
thinking that an ebh is to con1e. A wise man always antici-
pate:5 rc-action
, and takes hi
111easurcs accordingly. But I
han
already dwelt upon this point in the remarks on 'Snper-
"titioll.'
It should be rcmembered, then, that though pure conser-
yatism is a folly, and though it is true that n1CU do not coyet
iuuo\ atioll, as such, with cqual blindness) still there is as much
folly and as n1uch danger in a blindly reformatory principle.
For though mcn do not seek a change except when they percei,
e
SOlne evil, inconvenience, or ilnperfcction-, the thorough-going
Rcformcr alwar
l -ill find SOlllc-not unreal-grolllld of COIJl-
plaint in the wOl'killg of c'"cry institution. ' Erullt vitia donec
honÜlle
.' A.lid if the hou:se is to bc pulled down and rebuilt
till "e haye got one that is pcrfect, and, 1110]'COyer, that eycry
one will think such, wc bhall be as constantly in brick and
lllortar as if we did dclig:ht in plùlillg down for its own sake.
.Aud ,\ c
houla rell1CIUhcr, also) that ' custom will often blind
one to thc good as well as to the evil effects of allY long-

stahli
hed s)"stcm. The agues engendered by a n1al':o;h (like
that ancicllt one" hich bore thc nêUlle and :surrounded the city

23+

OJ Innovations.

[Essay xxi\".

of Canlarina)) and which have so long been conlmon as to be
little regarded) may not be its only effects: it may be also a
defence against an enemy. The Camarinæans having ch'ained
the swalnp, thcir city became healthy, but ,vas soon after
besieged and taken. The pret.entive effects, indeed, whether
good or evil, of any long-established system are hardly eyer
duly appreciated. But though no law' or system, whether
actual]y existing or proposed, can be expected to be unexcep-
tionable, or should have its defects pointed out ,,,ithout any
notice of corresponding advantages, it is most important to
exarnine every measure, whether new or old, and to try it on its
intrinsic nlerits, always guarding against the tenùency to acquiesce
,,,ithout inquiry in the necessity of any existing practice. In
short, "
e should, on the one hand, not venture rashly on
untrodden paths ,vithout a careful sUf\Tey of the country, and,
on the other hand, to be on our guard against following, in con-
fident security, the track of our own footsteps.H
The two kinds of absurdity here adverted to may be compared
respecti "ely to the acts of two kinds of irrational animals, a
moth, and a horse. The moth rushes into a flame, and is
burned; and the horse obstinately stands still in a stable that
is on fire, and is burned likewise. One may often meet ,yith
persons of opposite dispositions, though equally unwise, who are
accordingly prone respectively to these opposite errors: the one
partaking luore of the character of the nloth, and the other of
the horse.
Bacon's Inaxim, therefore, is most 'wise, to 'make a stand
upon the ancient way, and look about us to discover ,,,hat is the
best way;' neither changing at once anything that is establislled,
merely because of some evils actua]ly existing, without con-
sidering whether we can substitute something that is on the
".110Ie better; nor, again, steadily rejecting every plan or system
that can be proposeù, till one can be found that is open to no
objections at all. For nothing franled or devised by the
,vit of
Ian ever was, or can be, perfect; and therefore to
condelnn and reject e\Terythillg that is in1perfect, and has some
evils attending on it, is a folly which may lead equally-and
indeed often has led-to each of two opposite absurdities:

1 See Appendix E. to Lectures on Political ECOIlOnl!l, page 225,

J
s
ay xxiv.]

Annotations.

235

cithcr an obstinatc adhC'rence to what is cstablisllcd, howe,
cr
bad, bccausc nothing absolutely une
{'cptionab]e can be substi-
tuted; or again, a perpetual succession of revolutions till we
call establish-which is totally inlpossible-sollle systenl com-
pletely faultless, or so franled as to keep it...clf ill good order.
fro conceiyc such a system, whethcr actually existing or ideal,
is to be bcset by the same chimerical hope in human affairs
that has nlÏsled so lnany specu]ators in mechanics,-the vain
c
pectation of attaining thc perpetual motion.
This essay of Bacon's is one of the most instructive and most
generally useful, 'coming homc,' as he himself expresses it, (to
men's business and bosonls.' "For though few men a.re likely
to be called on to take part in the reformation of any public
institutions, yet thcrc is no one of us but what ought to engage
ill the important 'work of self-reformation. .A.nd according to
the well-known pro,-erh, 'If each would sweep before his own
door, we should have a clean street.' Some may have more,
and SOlne lc
s, of dust and other nuisances to sweep away;
sonle of one kind and some of another. But those who ha,'e
the least to do, have something to do; and they should feel it
an encouragement to do it, that they can so easily remedy the
beginnings of sluaII evils before they have accumulated into a
great one.
Begin reforming, therefore, at once: proceed in reforming,
stcadily and cautiously, and go on refonning for ever.

ESSAY XX'T. OF DISPATCH.

A FFECTED disl)atch is one of the most dangcrous things to
business that can be.: it is like that which the physicians
call predigcstion, or hasty digestion, which is sure to fill the
body full of cruùities" and secret seeds of diseases; therefore,
measure not dispatch by the tinle of sitting, but by the advance-
n1ent of the business: and as in races it is not the large stride,
or high lift, that makcs the speed, so in business, the keeping
close to the matter, and not taking of it too much at oncc,
procureth dispatch. It is the cale of some, only to come off
spcedily for the time, or to contrive some false periods of
business, because I they may seem men of dispatch: but it is one
thing to abbreviate by contracting, another by cutting off; and
business so handled at several sittings or meetings goeth com-
monly backward and forward in an unsteady mauneI'. I kne,v
a wise man that had it for a by-,,'ord, ,,"hen he saw men hasten
to a conclusion, (Stay a little, that we may make an end the
sooner .'2
On the other side, true dispatch is a rich thing; for time is
the measure of business, as n10ney is of ",.ares; aut! business is
bought at a dear hand where there is Sl11all dispatch. The
Spartans and Spaniards have been noted to be of small dispatch:
( l\Ii yenga la nluerte de Spagna,'3 for then it will be sure to be
long in coming.
Give good hearing to those that gi\Te the first information in
business; and rathcr direct thenl in the beginning than inter-
l'Upt them in the continuance of their speeches; for he that is
l)ut out of his o,vn order ,,,ill go forward and back,vard, and be
more tedious while he ,,,aits upon his n1c1l10ry, than he could
have been if he had gone on in his own course. But sOll1etimes
it is seen that the moderator is n10re troubleso111e than the actor.
Iterations -t are commonly loss of tiIlle: but there is no such

1 Because. That; in order that. 'The multitude rebuked them, because tlU'J
should hold their peace.'-;-lJ-'Iatt. xx. 31.
2 Sir Amyas Paulet. 3 '
Iay my death come from Spain.'
4 ltpration. Repetition.
, 'Vhat means this iteration, woman ?' -Shakespere.

ay XX'".]

Of Dispatch.

237

gain of tilnc a
to itcl'atc oftcn the statc of the' quc
tion; for it
cha"\cth away nIany a fri,'o!olis spcech as it is cOIning forth.
Long and curious spccchcs arc as fit for di.;;patch a
a robe or
Inalltle with a long train is for a race. Prefaces, and passagcs, I
and excu
ations,
and other specehes of rcference to the person,
are great wa
tes of time; and though thcy seern to proceed Of3
Inodcsty, they are brayery.4 Yet beware of being too matcriaP
when thcre is any impcdiment or obstruction in men's wills;
for pre-occupation of n1Índ ever requireth preface of speech,
like a fOlnentation to make the unguent enter.
Above all things, ordcr and distribution" and singling out of
parts, is the life of dispatch, so a
the distribution be not too
subtlc; for he that cloth not divide will never enter well into
lnlsinc

, and he that diyidcth too much will ne,-er con1e out of
it clearly. rro chuse time is to save time; and an unseason-
able motion is but beating the air. There be three parts of
busine

-th{\ prcparation, the debatc, or exan1ination, and the
pcrfcction,-whcreoI: if you look for dispatch, let the middle
only be the work of lnany, and the first and last the work of
fcw. 'l'he proccedillg upon somewhat conceived in writing
<loth for thp nlost part facilitate di
patch; for though it should
be wholly rejected, yet that ncgati,-c is l1I0re pregnant of direc-
tion than an indefinite, as ashes are more generative than
dust.

1 Passages.

I,liJ"oduct01Y approaches.
, And with his pointed dart
Explores the neare:5t passage to her heart.'
EXC1tSeS j apologies. 'The punishment of his excusatioi
s.'-

2 Excusations.
Bl'own.
3 Ot: From. 'I have recpived of the Lord that which I also delivered unto
yoU.'-I Cor. xi. 23.
, A blow whose violence grew not if fury, not if strength j or if strength pro-
ceeding of fury.' -Sidney.
4 Bravery. Boasting. 'For a brarery upon this occasion of power the)- crowned
their new king in DuLlin.'-Bacon.
5 :\laterial. Full of JIatter.
'A material fool.'-Skakespere.
, IIi::; t)peech even charmed his cares,
80 order'd, so malerial.'-Chapman's version of the 241/1, Iliad.

23 8

OJ Dispatch.

[Essay XXL

ANXOTATIOXS.

, TiJne is the rneaSllre of business.' . . . . 'To chuse tirne is to
save tiíJze, and unseasonable u'totion is but beating the air.'

Some persons are ,vhat is called' slow and sure:' sure, that
is, in cases that will admit of leisurely deliberation; though they
require so much time for forrning a right judgment, and devising
right plans, that in cases ".here pronlptitude is called for, they
utterly fail. Buonaparte used to say, that one of the principal
requisites for a general, was, an accurate calculation of tinze;
for if your adyersary can bring a powerful force to attack a cer-
tain post ten minutes sooner than you can bring up a sufficient
supporting force, you are beaten, even though all the rest of YOUl"
plans be never so good.
So also, if you are overtaken by an inundation, ten minutes
spent in deciding on the best road for escaping, may nlake escape
impossible.
Some again, are admirable at a bright thought-a shrewd
guess-an ingenious scheIne hit off on the spur of the mOl1lent,
but either will not give themselves time for quiet deliberation
in cases wllere there is no hurry, or cannot deliberate to good
purpose. They can shoot flying, but cannot take deliberate ainl.
And sonle again there are who delay and deliberate, when
promptitude is essential, and nlake up for this by taking a ha:5ty
step when they haye plenty of tilne before them; or they are bold
first and prudent afterwards; first administering the strong dose,
and then, when tILe step cannot be re-called, carefully e
alnilling
the patient's tongue and pulse.
It is worth l"enlarking, that nlany persons are of such a
disposition as to be nearly incapable of rreuzaitâng in doubt on any
point that is not wholly uninteresting to them. They speedily
lnake up their n1Índs on each question, and come to sOule con-
clusion, whether there are any good grounds for it or not. And
judging-as men are apt to do, in all nlatters-of others, from
thenlselves, they usually discredit the most solemn assurance3 of
anyone who professes to bc in a state of doubt on SOUle ques.
tion; taking for granted that if you do not adopt their opinion,
you nlust Le of the opposite.

Essay x:
{\
.J

Annotations.

239

Others again there are, who are capable of ren1allllng in
doubt aR long as the reason::; on cach side seem exactly balaltctd;
but Hot otherwise. Such a pcrson, as soon as he percei\.cs any
-the
qnane5t-preponderance of probahility on one side of a
question, can 110 more refrain fronl deciding inlll1ediately,
and with full conviction, on that side, than he could continue
to
tand, after having lost his equilibrium, in a ::;lanting position,
like the fan10ns tower at Pisa. .And he will, accordingly, he
disposed to consider an acknow ledgillent that there are 80n1e-
what the stronger reasons on one sidc, as equivalent to a COIl-
fident decision.
The tendency to such an error is the greater, fron1 the cir-
clunstance, that there are so many cases, in practice, wherein it
iR csscntially ncccssary to come to a practical dceision, cven
where thcre are no sufficient grounds for feeling fully convinced
that it is the right one. A trayC'ller may be in doubt, and may
11avc no 1l1eanS of deciding, with just confidence, which of two
l'oad
he ought to take; wlúle yet he must, at a yenture, take
one of thern. And the like happcns in numberless transactions
of ordinary life, in which we are obliged practically to make up
our minds at once to take one course or another, pyen where
there are no sufficient grounds for a full conviction of the
understandiug.
rfhe infirn1Ïties ahoye mcntioned are those of ordinary minds.
A bmaller nun1her of persons, among who1n, ho,,-eyer, are to be
found a larger proportion of the intelligent, are prone to the oppo-
site e"\:tren1e; that of not deciding, as long as there are reasons
to be found on both sidc
, even though there n1ay be a clear
and ::;trong preponderance on the one, and even though the case
mar bc :such as to call for a practical decision. .As the one
description of men rush hastily to a conclusion, and trouLle
themsch'cs little about pren1Íses, so, the other carefully ex-
alnine premises, and care too little for concl USiOIlS. The one
decide without inquiring, the other inqnire without deciding.
, Beware of being too 'material.'
On this point I take the liberty of quoting a passage from
the ElciJu:nls of Rhtloric:-
'It is ren1arkccl br anaton1Ísts that the nutritive quality
is not the only requisite in food,-that a certain degree of

24 0

Of Dispatcll.

[Essay xxv.

distension of the stomach is required to enable it to act with its
full powers,-and that it is for this reason hay or straw nlust
be given to horses as well as corn, in order to supply the neces-
sary bulk. Son1ething analogous to this takes place ,vith respect
to the generality of n1Índs,-which are incapable of thoroughly
digesting and assin1ilating what is presented to them in a yerr
small conlpass. l\IallY a one is capable of deriving that instruc-
tion froln a n10derate..sized yolunle, which he could not recei\re
from a very slllall pamphlet, eyen more perspicuously written, and
containing everything that is to the purpose. It is necessary that
the attention should he detained for a certain till1e on the subject;
and persons of unphilosophical mind, though they can attend to
,vhat they read or hear, are unapt to dwell upon it in the way
of subsequent meditation.'

, 'I'rue dispatch is a 'rich thing.'

It is a rare and admirable thing when a man is able both to
discern .which cases admit, and which not, of calm deliberation;
and also to be able to meet both in a suitable manner. Such a
character is nlost graphically described by Thucydides in his
account of Themistocles; ,,,ho, according to him, was second to
none in forming his plans on cautious inquiry and calm reflec-
tion, when circumstances allowed him, and yet excelled most
men in hitting off sonle device to nleet some sudden elnergellcy:
[avToO'x E
{((
cLV TU
EOVTU J. '
If you cannot find a counsellor who combines these two kinds
of qualification (which is a thing not to be calculated on), you
should seek for some of each sort; one, to devise and mature
measures that "rill adlnit of delay; and another, to make pronlpt
guesses, and suggest sudden expedients. 1\.. bow, such as is
approyed by our modern toxophilites, must be backed-that is,
made of two slips of wood glued together: one a very elastic,
but somewhat brittle 'wood; the other much less elastic, but
very tough. The one gives the requisite spring, the other keeps
it from breaking. If you have two such counsellors as are herc
spoken of, you are provided with a backed bo,v.
And if you yourself are of onc of the two above-mentioned
characters-the slow-hound or the grey-hound-you should
especially provide yourself ,vith an adviser of the oppositc class:

ES3ay XXy.J

Annotations.

24 1

one to give you warning of dangers and obç;tacles, and to
caution you against precipitate decisions, if that be your ten-
dency; or one to make gucsscs, and suggest cxpedicnts, if you
are one of the slow and sure.
Those who arc clcycr [in the proper scnsc-i.e. quick] are
apt to be so proud of it as to disdain taking time for cautious
inquiry and dpliberation; and those of the opposite class are
pcrhap
no less likely to pride thcmselvcs on their cautious
,visdom. But these latter will often, in practice, obtain this
advantage oyer those they are opposed to-that they will defeat
them without direct opposition, by merely asking for postpone-
ment and reconsideration, in cascs where (as Bacon exprpsses it)
'not to decide, is to decide.' If you defn. sowing your field
till the seedtime is past, you haye dccided against sowing it.
If you carry the nlotion that a Bill be rcad a second time this
day six months, ).ou have thrown it out.

ESSAY XXVI. OF SEE:\IING 'VISE.

I T hath been an opinion, that the French are wiser than they
seem, and the Spaniards seen1 'wiser than they are; but
hOlrSOeYCr it be between nations, certainly it is so bctween luan
and man j for, as the ...\. postle saith of godliness, , I-Iaving a show
of godlincss, but denying the power thereof,' I_SO ccrtainly
there are, in points of ,,-isdom and sufficiency, 2 that do nothing
or little, ycry solemnly, Magno conatZt /lllgas. 3 It is a ridiculous
thing, and fit for a satire to persons of judgment, to see 'what
shifts these formalists have, and what prospectives 4 to make
superficies to seenì body that hath depth and bulle Sonle are
so close and reserved, as they 'will not show their '"fares but by
a dark light, and seem always to keep back somewhat; and
"hen thcy kno\v ,,-ithin themselves they speak of that they do
not 'well know, ,yould nevertheless seem to others to know of
that ,,,hich they may not well speak. Some help themselves
,yith countenance aud gesture, and are wise by signs j as Cicero
saith of Piso,s that when he answered him he fetched one of his
bro,,-s up to his forehead, and bent the other down to his chin;
'Respondes, aItero ad frontem sublato, aItero ad nlentulll de-
presso supercilio, crudelitatenl tihi non placere.' Some think
to bear 6 it by speaking a great ,yord, and being peremptory;
and go on, and take by admittance that which they cannot
nlake good. Sonle, ,,-hatsoever is beyond their reach, will seem
to despise, or make light of it, as impertinent7 or curious, 8 and
so 'would have their ignorance seem judgment. Some are never

1 2 Timothy iii. 5.
i Sufficienc
'. AlJilify; adequate pO'lver. 'Our sufficiency is of God.' -2 Cor.
iiL 5.
:i Trifles with great effort.
.. Prospectives. Perspeclire gla.<;ses.
, They speke of Alhazell and Vitellon,
Of queinte rnirrours, and of prospectives.'-Clwucer.

5 In Pis. 6.
6 Bear. To manage; to contrive.
, "r e'll direct her bow 'tis best to bear it.' -Shalcespere.
7 Impertinent. Irrelevant.
"Vithout the which, this story
1Yere most impertinent.'-Sltakespere.

Curious. Over-nice. See page 75.

Essay XXyi.]

Annotations.

243

wit])ont a diffcrcncc, l and commonly ùy alnusing men ,,'ith a
suhtlcty, hlanch 2 the mattcr; of" hon1 A. Gellius saith, ' I-Iomi-
llCln deliruln, qui ycrbol'unl Ininutiis rcrurn frangit pOIHlera.'3
Of which kind alt;o .Plato, in his Protagoras, 4 brillgeth in Pro-
dicus in scorn, and maketh hÏ1n make a speech that consisteth
of distinctions fronl thc bcginning to the cnd. Gencrally, such
lìlcn, ill all c.1
libcrations, find easc to bc of the negative side,
and affcct a crcùit to ohjcct and forctell difficulties; for when
propositions are denicd, thcrc is an end of them; but if they be
allowed, it requireth a new ,york; which falsc I>oint of wisdom
i
the hane of business. To conclude, there is no decaying
Jucrchant, or inward bcg-gar,s hath so many tricks to uphold the
credit of their wcalth, as these enlpty persons haye to lllaintain
thc crcdit of their sufficicncy. Sceming wise men nlay make
shift to gct opinion; but let no rnan chuse theln for elllploy-
lncllt; for, ccrtainly, you were bctter take for business a man
somcwhat aùsurù than over-fonnal.

AXXOT...\ TIO XS.

, Seeming 1t,ise Inen rnay
nake shift to get opinion.'

There is a way in ,rhich some men seem, to themselves, ana
oftcn to others also, to be much wiser than they are; by acting
as a wise man docs, only on wrong occasions, and altogether
under differcnt circuHlstanees. Such a man has heard that it
is a wi:5e thing to be neither too daring nor too tin1Íd; neither
too suspicious nor too confiding; too hasty, nor too slow, &c.,
and he yenturcs and holds back, trusts and distrusts, hastens

1 Difference. A. subtle distinction.
, .An absolute gentleman, full of most e
('el1ent diJferences/-Slwkespere.
2 Blanch. To evade. ' .A man horribly
he lt
his own soul, ,,110 upon any pre-
tence whnte\-er, or unller Hn
' temptation" forsakes or blanches the true principles
of reli
ion/ -Goodman's Conference.
3. '.A .senspless man who fritters away weighty matters by trifling" ith words.'
(TIns ðprcssion not in .Aulus Gellius. A pa
ðage like it occurs in Quintilian-i..'(. I.)
4 l>lato, Protag. i. 33 ï.
5 Inward beggar. Olle secretly a bankrupt.
, To the sight unfold
IIis secret gems, anù all the inward golù.'-LansàolcJle.
ltZ

244

Of seenzing TVise.

[Essay xxvi.

and delays, spends and spares, &c., just in the same degree that
a wise man does,-ouly, he is yenturcsome where there is real
danger, and cautious ".here there is none; hasty .where there
is no cause, and dilatory when e,-crything turns on dispatch j
trusting those Uln, orthy of confidcnce, and suspicious of the
trustworthy; parsilnonious towards worthy objects, and profuse
towards the ,,'orthless; &c.
Such a character nlay be called 'the reflection of a wise
man.' He is the figure of a ,rise man shown IJY a ntÏrror;
which is an exact representation, except that it is !tit-handed.
The German child's-story of Hans und Gretlil, like many
other childish tales, contains, under a surface of nlcre foolery,
an instructive picture uf real life. I-Ial1s stuck a knife in his
sleeve, having heen told that" as the proper place for the needle;
and put a kid in his pocket, hecause that was the place for a
knifc, &c. It D1ay be said, almost without qualification, that
true wisdom consists in the ready and accurate perception of
analogies. "Vithout the fornler quality, knowledge of the past
is uninstructive; without the latter, it is deceptive.
One ":
y in which many a Ulan aiIns at and pretends to
,,,,isdom, who 'has it not in hiD),' is this: he has heard that
, the 'Jìziddle course is always the best;' tl1at ' exirenzes are to be
avoided,' &c.; and so he endeavours in all cases to keep at an
equal distance from the most opposite partirs. lIe will never
quite agree, nor vcry widely disagree with either: and thus, as
almost always each party is right in sOJnetltiug, he misses the
truth OD both sides; and while afraid of being guided by either
party, he is in fact guided by both. His n1Ïn1Ïc wisùon1 con-
sists in sliding alternately towards each extreme. But if your
orbit be a true circle, independent of the eccentric elliptical
orbits of others, this will make sundry nodes with theirs; son1e-
times falling ,,'ithin and sometimes ,yithout the same eccentric
orbit. That is, in some points you will approach nearer to the
one than to the other; in son1e you ".ill ".holly agree with one
party, and in some with another; in some you will differ
equally from both; and in some you will even go further frum
the one party than the opposite one does. For, true wisdom
does not depcnd on another's extrayagance and folly. rfhe
yarieties 9f !tup1an error have no power to fix the exact place
of truth.

E
::-.ny
xxi.]

Annotations.

2-+5

Another exen1plification of the golden mean upon which this
seeming wise l1)a11 prides hilllsclf, i::; the adoption of the conclu-
sion that where a great deal is said, something must be true;
iJIlagining that he is showing a rnost judicious and laudable
caution in ùplieving only }Jart of w hat is said,-doing what is
called '
plitting the difi'prellce.' This is the wisdoln of the
clown, who thinks he has bought a great bargain of a Jew,
becan:se hc has bcat down the price from a guinea to a crown
for SOUle article that is not really worth a groat.
.Another of these pretenders to heing, or being thought to
be, wise, prides hinlsclf on what he calls his consistency,-on
his neyer changing hi3 opinions or plans; which, as long as
:\[au is fallihle, and circu111:stauces change, i
the" isdom of one
eithcr too dull to detect his lnistakes, or too obstiuate to own
thenl.
Another, having bccn warned that 'wisdom and "it' are not
the
anle thillg, lllakc::5 it a part of wisdoln to distrust e'"ery-
thing that can possibly be regarded as witty; not ha,"ing judg-
nlcllt to pcrcci,-e the conlbillation, when it occurs, of ,,;it with
sound reasoning. The ivy-" reath conccals from his vie""" the
!)oint of the Thyrsus. IIis is not the "isdom that can laugh
at what is ludicrous, and, at the sallIe tÍIne, l)reserye a clear
di
cerllnlent of sound and unsound reasoning.
Agaiu-Sollle of these seeming wise nlen pride themselyes
on thcir scorn for all systenlatic knowledge, and on their
rcliancc on what they call COnllllOll sense and cxperiellce. They
depend 011 tlJcil' ' expericnce J and their' common sense' for evcry-
thing, and arc continually obtruding ,,-hat Inay be caned the
pedantry of cxperience aud COl111110n sense on thc most abstruse
suhjects. Thcy IDeet all scicntific and logical arglllllcnt with-
'CoIlllllon sense tells DIe I am right,' a11d-' )Iy eycry -day's
e
pcricllce coufirnls 1ue in the opinion I have fornled.' If they
are spoken to of Political EconolllY, they will imnlcdiately
rcply, ' ...\h, I know nothing of the dreams of Political Econolny'
(this is thc ycry phrase I ha\-e hcard used)-'] lleyer studied
it- I llC\"Cr trouhled myself about it; but there are some points
upon which I have made up nlY mind, such as the question of
frce trade and protection, and poor-laws.' 'I do not profe
s'
-3 m&.lll will l)erhaps
a).-' to know anything of
Iedicine) 01'

24 6

OJ see'J1lÏng T,Tise.

L Essay xxyi.

PharmaC)T, or Anatomy, or any of those things; but I kno,v by
experience that so and so is .wholesome for sick people.'
In former times men knew by experience that the eart11
stands still, and the sun rises and sets. CoronIon sense taught
them that there could be no antipodes, since men could not
stand ,vith their heads downwards, like flies on the ceiling.
Experience taught the King of Bantam that .water can neyer
become solid. And-to come to the case of hUlnan affairs-
the experience and comn10n sense of the nlost intelligent of the
Roman historians, Tacitus} taught him that for a n1Ïxed goyern-
ment to be established, combining the elements of royalty,
aristocracy, and democracy, ,,'ould be next to impossible; and
that if it were established, it must speedily be dissoh-ed.
Yet, had he li\'ed to the l)resent day, he .would haye learned
that the establishment and continuance of such a form of
government ,vas not impossible. So much for experience!
The experience of these .wise men resembles the learning
of a man ,,-ho has turned over the pages of a great many
bool{s without ever haying learned to read; and their so-called
, con1mon scnse' is often} in reality, nothing else than comn10n
prejudice.
Yet these very persons pass for wise, or, as Bacon expresses
it} 'get ol)inion,' by the oracular decisions they are continually
pronouncing on the nlost difficult scientific questions. For
instance, decisions on questions concerning ta-x.ation, tithes, the
national ùebt} the I)oor laws} the ,,'ages which labourers earn or
ought to earn, the conlparati\'c adyantagcs of different modes
of charity} and numberless other questions of Political EconoD1Y,
are boldly pronounced by them, while not only ignorant, but
professedly ignorant, anc1 designing to continuc so} of the ,,-})olp
subject; neither haying, nor pretending to hay-e} nor seeking for}
any fixed principles by "lJÍcll to regulate their judgnlent on each
point. That gentleman equals them in ,,
isc1onl} while certail1]
r
surpassing them in the modesty of his doubt, who, on being
asked ,yhether he could play on the violin, made answer that
lle really did not l{now whether he could or not, ùecause he had
never tried.
It is somewhat remarkable that this claim to be thought
wise, founded on the adherence to so-called common sense, is
much more generally allowed than seems quite consistent w-ith

Essay xxvi.]

AJlnot alions.

2{7

thc uniycrsal, though unconscious, and oftcn unwil1ing, testi.
mony of mankind-that systcmatic knowledge is prefcrable to
conjcctural judgn1cnb;, and that common sense i!S only our
secolld-hest guiùe; a testiulony borne in the fact that the sailor,
the physician, and every other practitioncr, cach in his own
c1cpartrncnt, gives the prefcrence to unassisted comnlon sense
only in thOðC points wherc hc himself has nothing else to trust
to, and Ìln"ariably rcsorts to the rulcs of art wherevcr he !Jos..
scsscs thc knowlcdge of them. But most people are apt to give
crcdit for wisdom to those, not whose views are, on the whole,
most reasonable, but thosc whose common sense consists in
COllllUOn notions, and who are frce from all errors, except vulgar
crrors.
.A.llother moùe in which men set up for being wise is, by
bcing fa
tidious. Thcy are so cxcessively acute at detecting
inlpcrfcctiolls, that in looking at a pcacock's train, they would
fix on C'"CI'Y spot whcre the fcathers were worn, or the colours
faded, autl see nothiug clse.
Again-It is a characteristic of some of these seeming wise
men, that not only are 'little things great' to them, as the
poet say
they arc to 'little lllen/ but great things are little to
theln.
As to thc tricks by ,y hich men (in the n10dern phrase) (puff
themsch'es,' thcy might have been introduced by Bacon in the
essay , On CUlulÍng.' But it is "worth noticing, that those who
a
SUlnc an inlposillg òenleallour, and scck to puff themselyes off
for sonlethiug beyond what they are (and often succeed), are,
not uufl'cquently, as much under-rated by some, as the
T are
0' er-rated by others. For, as a man (according to what Bacon
says in thc essay' Ou Discoursc'), by kecping back some know-
lcdge which hc is belieyed to p08sesR, may gain creùit for kno,v-
ing somcthing of which he is really ignorant, so, if he is once
or twice dctected in pretending to know what hc does not, he
ið likely to be set do" 11 as a 1Jlere pretellùer, and as ignorant of
what he docs know.
, Silver gilt will often pass
Either for gold or else for brass.'1

1 Sce rrorerbs and Precepts, as Copy-Pieces for Katiollal Schools.

ESSAY XX'!II. OF FRIENDSHIP.

I T had been hard for him that spake it, to haye put more
truth and untruth together in fe"w words, than in that speech,
, 'Vhosoever is delighted in solitude, is either a ",yild beast or a
god ;'1 for it is most true, that a natural and secret hatred and
aversation towards 2 society, in any man, hath somewhat of the
savage beast; but it is most untrue, tllat it should have any
character at all of the divine nature, excepe it proceed, not out
of a pleasure in solituùe, but out of a love and desire to sequester
a man's self for a higher conversation;4 such as is found to
}lave been falsely and feignedly in some of the heathens-as
Epimenides, the Candian; N luna, the Roman; Empedocles, the
Sicilian; and Apollonius, of Tyana; and truly, and really, in
divers of the ancient hermits and holy fathers of the Church.
But little do men perceive what solitude is, and how far it ex-
tendeth; for a crowd is not company, and faces are but a
gallery of pictures, and talk but a tinkling cymbal, ,vherc there
is no loye. The Latin adage meeteth with it a little: '
Iagna
ci\'itas, magna solitudo,'5-because in a great town friends are
scattered, so that there is not that fellowship, for the most part,
,,,hich is in less neighbourhoods; but ,ve may go farther, and
affirm most truly, that it is a nlere 6 and miserable solitude to
,vant true friends, without which the ,vorld is but a ",vilderness;
and, e\Ten in this scene also of solitude, whosoever, in the frame
of his nature and affections, is unfit for friendship, he taketh it
of the beast, and not from humanity.7
A principal fruit of friendship is the ease and discharge of

1 Aristotle, Eth., B. 8.
2 A versation towards. Aversion to.
There is such a general aversation in
human nature to\\ ards contempt, that there is scarcely aUJthing more exasperating.'
-Gove}.nment of.the Tongue.
3 Except. Unless. 'Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom
of God.'-John iii. 3,
4 Con\'er!'ation. Course of life. "Yhat manner of persons ought we to be in
all holy conversation and godliness.'-2 Pel. iii.
5 'A great city, a great solitude.'
6 i\Iere. Absolute. See' .Merely,' page 2 I.
7 Humanity. Human nature. 'Look to thyself; reach not beJond l/..'llmanity-'
-Sir Philip Sidney.

Essay xxvii.]

Of Friendship.

249

thc fuIncss of the hcart, which passions of all kinds do cause
and illc1ncc. 'Y c know diseascs of stopping
and suffocations
arc the Hlost dangcrou$ in the body; aud it is not much other-
wise in thc mind: you may take sarza 1 to open the liyer, steel
.
to opcn the splccn, flower of sulphur for thc lungs, castoreum
for thc brain j but no rcceipt opcncth the hcart but a true
fricnd, to wbonl you nlay Ílupart gricf.-;, joys, fcars, hopes, sus-
picious, counsels, and whatsocvcr lieth upon the hcart to oppress
Ü, in a kind of civil shrift or confession.
It is a strangc thing to ohscn'c how high a rate great kings
and Blonal'chs do set upon this fruit of friendship whereof "Te
spcak,-so great, as 2 thcy purchase it many tilnes at the hazard
of thcir own safcty and gi'catncss: for princes, in regard of the
distancc of thcir fortune fro111 that of thcir suhjects and scryants,
cannot gather thi::; fruit, cxcept, to Blakc them
e]ves capable
thereof, they raise sonIC pcrsons to be as it were cOlllpanions,
and ahnost equals to thclnseh'cs, which many times sorteth 3 to
incollvcnience. 'fhe nlodcrn languages gi,-e unto such persons
the naille of favouritcs, or pl'iYado

,-as if it were luatter of
grace or conversation; hut the ROlnan naUle attaillcth the true
usc and cause thereot: nalnillg them' participes curarum;H for
it i
that whieh tictll the knot: and we see plainly that this
hath becn done, not by weak and passionate princes on ly, but
hy the" isest and most politic that ever reigned, who haye of ten-
tin1c:5 joincd to thell1sel \"es some of thcir servants, ,,-horn both
thcl11seh.cs ha,-e callcd friends, and allowed others likewise to
call thelU in the saIne n1anncr, using the word which is received
betwecn private n1en.
L. Sylla, when he c0111mandcd Romc, raiscd Pompey, after
surllanlcd The Great, to that height that POlupey vaunted hinl-
self for Sylla's oyer-match j for when hc had carried the consul-

hi p for a fricnd of his, against the pursuit of Sy lla, and that
Sylla did a littlc rcscnt thereat, aad began to speak grcat,
Pompey turned upou hinl again, and in cffcct bade hÏ111 be
quict j for that more men adorcd the sun rising than the sun

1 Harza. Sm.saparilla. ' Sarza is both a tree and an herb.' -.Aiuslt'orth.
2 As. That.
ce page 22.
3
ortcth. Tu 'result; to issue in.
, Sort how it will,
I sh,111 have gold for all.'-Sliakespere.
4 Participators in our cares.

25 0

Of Friendship.

[Essay xxvii.

setting. 1 "Tith Julius Cæsar, DccilTIUS Brutus had obtained
that interest, as he set him down in his testament for heir in re-
mainder after his nephew; and this was the man that had power
with him to draw him forth to his death; for when Cæsar
would have discharged the senate, in regard of SOllie ill presages,
and especial1y a dream of Calpurnia, this man lifted him gently
by the arm out of his chair, telling him he hoped he would not
dismiss the senate till his 'wife had dreamed a bettcr dream;2
and it seemed his favour ,vas so great, as Antonius, in a letter,
"which is recited verbatim in one of Cicero's Philippics, called
him' venefica,' witch,-as if he had enchanted Cæsar. 3 Augustus
raised Agrippa, though of mean birth, to that hcight, as/ when
he consulted ,vith l\Iæcenas about the marriage of his daughter
Julia, l\Iæcenas took the liberty to tell him, that he must either
marry his daughter to Agrippa, or take away bis life,-there
was no third ,,-ay, he had Inade him so great. 'Yith Tiberius
Cæsar, Sejanus l)ad a
cended to that height as they two ,,-ere
termed and reckoned as a pair of friends. Tiberius, in a letter
to him, saith,' Hæc pro amicitia nostra non occultavi ;'5 and
the ",,'hole senate dedicated an altar to }'riendship, as to a
goddess, in respect of the great dearness 6 of friendship behyeen
them two. The like, or lTIOre, "'as between Septin1us Severus
and Plautianus; for he forced his eldest son to marry the
daugllter of Plautianus, and would often maintain Plautianus
in doing affronts to his son; aue1 did write also, in a lctter to the
senate, by these ,,'orc1s/ 'I love the man so well, as I ,,,ish he
may over-li,-e 8 me.' Now, if these princes had been as a Trajan,
or a
larcus Aurelius, a man might have thought that this had
prQceeded of9 an abundant goodness of nature; but being men
so wise, of such strength and severity of mind, and so extren1e
lovers of themselves, as all these ,vere, it proveth, most plaiuly,
that they found their ow"n felicity, though as great as eyer hap-
pened to nlortal men, but as a half piece, except they n1ight

1 Pluto Vit. Pomp. 19. 2 Pluto íit. J. Cæs. 64.
3 Cic. Pltilip. )..iii. I I. 4 As. That. See page 22.
5 'On account of our friendship, I have not cOl1C'caled the5e things/-Tacit.
Ann. iv. 40.
6 Dearness. Fondness. ' He must profess all the dear/less and friendship.'-
South.
7 Dion Casso !xxv.
b O\'crlive. SllJTh'e. '
Iusldorus, who showed a mind not to o'l..'erlive Prorus,
prevailed.'-Sir P. Sidlle!l' 9 Of. F1.om.
ee page 237.

ay xxyii.]

Of Friends/tip.

25 1

ha,'e a fricnd to mal
c it cntire; and yet, which 1 is more, they
'" ere princes that had wi,'cs, sons, ncphews, yet all these could
not
npply the' comfort of friendship.
It is not to he' forgottcn what Comineus observeth of his
first master, Duke Charlcs the Hardy-naluely, that he ",'ould
conlmunicate 2 his secrets with none; and, Icast of all, those
secrets which troubled him most. "Thereupon he gocth on,
and saith, that towards his latter timp, that closeness did inlpair
aud a little pel'ish 3 his understanding. Surely COluineus might
have made the samc judgment also, if it had pleased hiIn, of
hi
se
oud nlastcr, Louis XI., whose closeness was indeed. his
torn1e'ntor. The parahle of Pythagoras is dark) hut true, 'Cor
nc ('dito' -cat not the heart. 4 Certainly, if a man would gi,'e
it a hard phrasc, those that want friends to opcn thcmselves
unto, are cannibals of their own hcart
; but one thing is most
admirahle(whcrewith I will conclude this first fruit of friendship),
which is, that this conllnunicating of a mall's self to his friend,
works two contrary effects, for it retlouhleth joys, and C'utteth
griefs in halfs; for there is no man that imparteth his joys to
his friend, hut he joyeth thc more, and no man that inlparteth
his gricfs to JJis friend, hut he grie"eth the less. So that it is,
in truth, of operation upon a man's mind of like virtue as the
alchymi
ts U3e to attribute to their stone for luan's body, that
it ,,"orkcth all contrary effects, but still to the good and benefit
of nature. TIut yct) without praying in aid 5 of alchymists, there
is a n1anifest image of this in the ordinary course of nature;
for, in bodies, union strengtheneth and cherisheth any natural
action, and, on the other side, weakeneth and dulleth any violent
itnpression-and cven so is it of6 minds.

1 "l1Ìch. rf'7wt.-Challcer.
2 Communicate 1.,-ith. Communicate to; impart to. C He communicated th05e
tbuughb only with the Lord Digby.'-Clarendou,.
3 l'cri
h. To cause to decay; to destroy.
C Thy flinty heart, more hard than they,

Iigltt in thy palace perisll, :\Iargaret.'-Shakespere.
4 Plutarch, De Educat. Puer. 17.

Pra
in aid. To be an advocate for. (
\ term in law for calliuC1" in one to
help who has interest in a cause.) 0
C You shall find
A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness,
"'hen he for grace is knceled to.' -Slwkespere.
ð Of. rrith regard to.
, This quarrel is not now of fi,me and tribute,
liut tor Jour own rcpublick.'-Ben Jonson.

25 2

OJ Friendship.

[Essay xx, ii.

The second fruit of fricndship is hcalthful and sovereign for
the undcrstanding, as the first is for the aflections; for friend-
ship rnakcth indeed a fair day in the affef'tions frolll storn1 and
tempests, but it maketh daJIight in the understanding, out of
darkness and confusion of thoughts. Neither is this to be
understood only of faithful counsel, which a man reèeiveth fronl
his fricnd; but before you conlC to that, certain it is, that" ho-
so eyer] hath his mind fraught ,,-ith 111any thoughts, his .wits and
undcrstanding do clarify and break up, in the comnlunicating
aud discoursing with anothcr; he tosseth his thoughts nlore
casil)T-he marshalleth thenl more orderly-he seeth ho"r they
look when they arc turned into "
ords-fillallJT, he ".axeth 2 wiser
than hinlself; and that more hy an hour's discourse than by a
day's meditation. It was well said ùy Thcmistocles to the king
of Persia, 'That speech "ras like cloth of Arras, opened and
l)ut abroad' a-whereby the irnagel'Y doth appear in figure,
whereas in thoughts they lie but as in packs. N either is this
second fruit of friendship, in opening the understanding, re-
strained 4 only to such friends as are able to give a nlan counsel
(they indeed are best), but e\"cn without that a l11an learneth of
himself, and bringeth his 0" n thoughts to light, and whetteth
his wits as against a stone, which itself cuts not. In a word,
a lllan ,,-ere 5 bctter relate hinlself to a !Statue or picture, than
to suffer his thoughts to pass in smother. 6
Add now, to nlake this second fruit of friendship comrlete,
that other point which lieth more open, and fallcth within

1 'Yhosoever. Whoever. '1VllOsoez'e/' hath Christ for his friend shall be sure
of counsel; and 'ldLOsoever is his own friend "ill be sure to obey it.'-Sozdll.
2 'Vax. To grow; to become.
, Nature, crescent, does not grow alone
In thews and bulk; but as this temple waxes,
The inward service of the mind and soul
Grows wide withal.' -Shakespere.
3 Pluto Vit. Tlzem ist. 28.
4 Restrainpù. Limited; confined; 'restricted.
Upon what ground can a man
promise himself a future repentance who cannot promise himself a futurity; whose
life is so restrained to tllt> present that it cannot secure to itself the reversion of the
'"ery next moment.' -South.
Ó ''''ere. Had.

, I 'loere best not call.' -Shakespere.
6 Smother (not uspd as a noun). A state qf being stifled.
, Tllen must I from tIle smoke into the smotller;
}'rom t
Tallt duke unto a t)'l'allt brothcr.'-Slwkespere.

Essay xxvii.]

Of Friendship.

2 -)
:JJ

vul(rar 1 ohscr\-ation-which is faithful connscl fr01u a fricnd.
o
IIeraclitus
aith wcll, ill one of his cniglnas, 'Dry light is e\-cr
the best ;'2 and certain it is, that the light that a luan rccei\'eth
by coun
cl from anothcr is drier ana purer than that which
COlllCth fronl his 0'\ n understanding and judgment, which is
evcr iJlfu
ea and drcnched in his affections and custolns. So
M thcre is as 111uch difièrellcc bcb, ecn the counsel that a friend
giveth, and that a nlan gi\'eth hilnself, as there is between the
coun
cl of a friend and of a flatterer; for thcre is no such
flatterer as is a luan's
('lf, and thcre is no such relnedy against
flattery of a nlau's self as the libcrty of a friend. Counsel is
of t\\ 0
orts; the one concerning ll1anners, the other concern-
iug busincss: for the first, the best preservativp to kcep the
Dlind ill health is the faithful achìlonition of a fricnd. The
calling of a nIall'S self to a striC't account is a luedieine somc-
tilllcs too picrciug and COITOsi\-c; rcaùing good books of morality
is a little flat and dead; obserying onr faults in others is son1e-
times inlproper for onr easc; but the best rceeipt (hest, T say,
to work, and hest to take) is thp a(huonitioll of a friend. It is
a strange thing to behold what gross Cl'rors and extrelue absur-
dities ulan}" (especially of the grcatcr sort) do comn1Ït, for want
of a frit"nd to tell thClll of them, to the great dan1age both of
thcir fanlc and fortune: for, as St. J alllcs 3 saith, they are as
Dlcn 'that look s01l1ctimcs iuto a glass, and presently forget
their own shape and favour.'"' ..A.s for business, a man may think,
if he will, that two eyes see no more than one; or, that a
gamester
eeth always more than a looker-on; or, that a man
ill angcr is as wise as he that hath said oyer the four-anù-twenty
letters; or, that a musket may be shot off as well upon the arm
as upon a rest; and such other fond 5 and high in1aginations, to
think himself all in all: but when all is done, the help of good
eonll
cl is that which settcth business straight; and if any man
tl1Íllk that he will take counsel, but it shall be by pieces;

1 Vulgar. Common; general; public.
I )Iost sure, and lmlgar; ev-cry one hear3 that.'-Shakespere.
2 .Ap. Slob. :::;erm. v. 120. 3 James i. 23.
4 :Pa\"our. Countenance. I I ha.ve surely seen him; his favour is familiar
to me.'
5 }'ond. Foolish; silly; weak.
I 'Tisfond to wail inevitable strokec:,
As 'tis to laugh at thcll1.'-
ILGkespere.

254

OJ Friends/tip.

[Essay xxvii.

asking counsel in one business of one man, and in another
business of another man; it is as 'wcn, (that is to say, better,
pel"haps, than if he asked none at all), but he runneth two
dangers; one, that he shall not be faithfully counselled-for it
is a rare thing, except it be fro1n a pcrfect aud entire friend, to
have counsel given, but such as shall be boweù and crooked) to
son1e ends which he hath that giveth it; the other, that he shall
have counsel giycn, hurtful and unsafe (though "ith good
meaning), and 1nixed partly of mischief aud partly of rellledy-
even as if you "ould call a l)hysiciau, that is thought good for
the cure of the disease )TOU con11Jlain o
but is unacquainted
,vith your boùy,-al1d therefore, may IJut you in a way for
present cure, but overthroweth your health in sonle other kind,
aud so cure the disease, and kill the patient: but a friend, that
is ,,-holly acquainted with a man's estate/ ,,-ill beware, by further.
ing any present business, ho,v he dasheth upon other incon-
venience,-and, therefore, rest not upon scattered counsels, for
they "Till rather distract and mi:slead than :settle and direct.
After these two noble fruits of friendship (peace in the affec-
tions and support of the judgment), followeth the last fruit,
,,,hich is, like the pon1egranate, full of many kerllels- I mcan,
aid and bearing a part in all actions and occasions. IIere, the
best way to reprcsent to life the manifold use of friendship, is
to cast and see llO"w many things therc are which a man cannot
do himself; and then it ,,,ill appear that it was a sparing speech
of thc ancients, to say 'that a fi:iel1d is another hÍ1llself,' for that
a friend is far more than hinlself.
lell have their tinle, and
die 11lany times in desire of some things wI1ich they principally
take to heart; the bestowing of a child, the finishing of a ,york,
or the like. If a man have a true friend, he may rest almost
secure that the care of those things "Till continue after him;
so that a man hath, as it ,,-cre, two lives in his desires. A
111an hath a body, and that body is confined to a place; but
where friendship is, all offices of life are, as it ,yere, granted to
him and his deputy; for he may exercise them by his friend.
II ow many things are there which a man cannot, ,,,ith any

1 Crook. To pervert. See page 2 10.
2 Estate. State; condition; circumstances.
C His letter there
"Till show J'ou his estale.-Sltah espere.

E
say xxvii.]

Annotations.

255

face or comelincss, say 01' do hilu'5clf? A man can scarce allege
his own nlcrits with mo(le.sty, much less cxtol theln; a man
cannot
omctimes brook to supplicate or beg, and a number of
the like: but all these things are graceful in a fricnd's lllouth,
which are blushing ill a Juan's own. So, again, a 111an'8 pcrsoll
hath nlany proper l relations which he canuot put off. .1\ man
cannot spcak to his ::;011 but as a father; to his wife but as a
husband: to hi8 cnclny Lut upon tcrms: whereas a friend nlay
speak as the case requires, anJ not as it sorteth 2 ,\-ith the
pcrson. nut to enU111Crate the.se things were endless: I Ita ve
gi\-en the rule, whcre a man cannot fitly play his own part; if
hc ha,c not a frienù, he nlay quit the stage.

AXTITHETA O
FRIEXDSHIP.

!)RO.

Pessima solituùo, 110n vcras habcre
nmicitias.
I The worst solilu.de is to have no real
fl"iendslâps.'

COXTRA.
(Qni amicitias arctas copnlat, novas
neccs
itates sibi imponit.
( He wILo forms close friendships, im-
poses on himself new duties.'

I Digna maIm fiùci ultio, amicitiis
pri vari.
I To be deprh-ed if friends is a fit
reward of faitltleSSlless.'

( Animi illlbecilIi est, partiri fortunam.
( It is tlte mark of a feeble mind to
!fo shal.es in OIW'S fortune witl/, aJwther.'

ANSOT..A.TIONS.

C It !tad been haì'd for him that spake it to have put JìlOì'e truth
and untruth together infew words than in t!tat speeclt,-' IVho-
soever is delighted ill solitude is either a wild beast or a
god.'
Ari.-;totle had been so unduly and absurdly worshippcd before
nacoll'
time, that it was not inexcusable to be carried away Ly
the ebb-tide, and unduly to disparage hilll. But, ill truth,_
ristotle
(for it is of hilll Bacon is soeakiu o , ) 'fas q uite l'i
ht in savinO'
.&. 0
'"';:,

1 Proper. Peculiar.
I Faults proper to himself.'-Shakespere.
2 Sort. To suit; to fit.
I For different t'tsle::; with diffcrcnt sul
ects sort,
.A:::t sl:\"cral gal'ùs with country, town, and court.'-Pope.

2"6
.J

Of Friendsl.ip.

[Essay xxyii.

that to :Thran, such as l\Ian is, friendship is indispensahle to hap-
piness; and that one who has no Heed, and feels no need of it,
n1ust be either much above human nature, or much below it. 1
Aristotle does not presume to say that no Being can exist so
exalted as to he ,,,holly independent of all other Beings, and to
require no sYln})athy, nor admit of it; but that such a Being
must be a widely different Being from
fan.

, It is most untrue, tltat it should have any cltaractetr at all oj
divine nature.'

"r ell might Bacon doubt, or deny, that incapacity for friend-
ship could assimilate l\lan to the divine nature. "r e do not
find that true Christians-those "horn Peter describes as 'par-
takers of a divine nature through the great and precious promises
given unto theIn' :!-become less and less capable of friendship
in l)roportioll as they, in any n1easure, attain to that reselnblance
to their divine ::\Iaster, which is yet to be their perfection and
their happiness when the)T 'shall see Him as I-Ie is ;'3 and after
,vhich they are now, here below, continually striving. "redo
not find that, as they increase in uni,
ersal charity, l)articular
friendships are swallo"Ted up in it, or that any progress to higher
and more exalted christian attainment makes a partial regard
towards one good man more than another, unworthy of theIn,
and too narro,v a feeling for then1 to entertain. Far from it,
indeed: it is generally observed, on the contrary, that the best
Chri
tians, and the fullest, both of brotherly love towards all
',,
ho are of the household of faith,' alid of universal tenderness
and benevolence towards all their fello'lv-creatutres J are also the
'warmest and steadiest in their friendships.
N 01' have ,re any reason to believe that in the future state
of blessedness and glory, when the saint is indeed nlade perfect,
that any part of his perfection will consist in being no longer
capable of special individual friendship. There are many persons,
ho,vever, ,,-ho believe that it will be so; and this is one of the
many l)oillts in which views of the eternal state of the heirs of

1 ,r 0
È p,

vváp,
vo
KOLVC1JVÊLV
p,r;()Èv

óp,
vo

L' aVTápK
LaV, Ov()Èv p,/po

7í'
}\.
C1Jf;. &aT

()YJpíov
()io
.'-Arist. Politics, Hook i. Bacull probably quoted
from a Latin translation: 'Homo solitarius, aut Deus aut bestia.'
2 2 Pet. i. 4, 3 I John iii. 2.

ay xXlii.]

AnJ1otatioJi,Y.

257

salvation are rendered more unintcresting to our feclings, and
con
l'quentIYJ 1110re unin, iting, than there is any necd to make
then1. )[any suppose that ,,-hCll "e have attained to that
eternal state, the lllore conccntrated and limited affection will
l)c lost in brothcrhood with that' multitudc which no man can
numbcr, rcdecmed out of cvery nation, and kindrcd, and pcoplc.'
But if we find, as \\"c do find, that private fricndship docs not
intcrfere with christian hrotherhood, nor with universal bene-
yolence on earth, why should it do so in heaven?

But 'we lla,.c more decisi,"c proof than this: 1 noone can suppose
that a Christian in his glorificd state win bc '/Ii(Jre exalted than
hi
great 'laster whilc hcrc on earth; from Him we must eyer
reinain at an Ï1nfficasurablc distance: ,ve hope, indeed, to be
free from the suffcrings of our blessed Lord in his state of
humiliation hcre below; but ne,"cr to eq nal his perfections.
Y ct IIc was not incapable of fricnd
hip. He certainly loved,
indeed, aU nlHukilld, nlore than any other man ever did; since
(as l>aul says) 'while we wcre yct enemies, I-Ie died for us;'
Ire lo,.cd cspecially the disciples who constantly followed I-lim;
but evcn among the .Apostle
, lIe distinguished one as more
pcculiarly aud pri,"ately hif'jriend-J ohn was' the disciple'lvhonl,
Jesll.
IOl.(
d.' Can 'we then e\-er be too highly exaJted to be
capaùle of fricndship?
'I ain convinced, on the contrary, that the extension and
perfcction of fricndship ,,'ill constitute great part of the future
happine!'
of the blest. ::\Iany have lived in yarious and distant
a
cs and countries, perfectly adapted (1 mean not merely in
their being gcncrally estimahlc, but in the agl'Cenlent of their
tastcs, and suitablene:s
of dispositions) for friendship with each
other, but who, of cour
c, could neyer meet in this "orl(l.
!\Iany a one selects, when he is reading history,-a truly-pious
Chri
tian, most especially in reading sacred history,-so1l1e onc
or two favourite characters, with whom he feel:s that a personal
acquaintance" ould havc becn pcculiarly delightful to hÍ1n. 'Yhy
should not such a de
ire he realized in a future state? ...\ wi
h
to
ce and pcr:'\onally kno"r, for example, the Apostle Paul, or
John, is the most likely to arise in the lloblc
t anù purest mind;

e.A Tlelv qf the Scripture Revelafions of a Future State, laid before the
l\arl:;}llollcrs of Halcsworth.

25 8

Of Friendsltip.

[Essay xx ,"ii.

I should be sorry to think such a wish absurd and presumptu-
ous, or unlikely to be gratified. The }lighest enjoynlent, doubt-
less, to the hlest, will be the personal knowledge of their divine
and beloved 1\1 aster; yet I cannot but think that some part of
their happiness will consist in an intimate knowledge of the
greatest of his followers also; and of those of them in parti-
cul
r whose peculiar qualities are, to each, the most peculiarly
attractive.
( In this worlel, again, our friendships are limited not only to
those who live in the same age and country, but to a small
portion even of those ,,,ho are not unknown to us, and ,,-horn
'we know to be estimable and amiable, and who, we feel, Dlight
have been among onr dearest friends. Our command of time
and leisure to cultiyate friendships, imposes a IÍ1nit to their
extent; they are bounded rather by the occupation of our
thonghts, than of our a.ffections. And the renloval of such im-
pediments in a better" orld, seems to me a most desirable, and
a most probable change.
'I see no reason, again, why those who llat'e been dearest
friends on earth, should not, ,\ hen admitted to that happy state,
continue to be 80, ,rith full knowledge and recollection of their
former friendship. If a man is still to continue (as there is
every reason to suppose) a social Being, and capable of friend-
ship, it seems contrary to all probability that he should cast oft'
or forget his former friends, ,vho are partal(ers "Tith hÏ1n of the
Eke exaltation. lIe will, indeed, be greatly changed from what
he waB on earth, and unfitted perhaps for friendship with such
a Being as one of us is NO"-; hut his friend will have under-
gone (by supposition) a corresponding change. 1 And as we have
seeu those who haye heen loving play fellows in childhood, gro,v
up, if they grow up with good, and with like, dispositions, into
still closer friendship in riper years, so also it is probable that
,vhen this our state of childhood shall be perfected, in the
maturity of a better world, the like attachment ,vill continue

1 The same thought is beautifully expressed by one of the most excellent of
sacred poets,-the author of The Christian Year:-
'That so, before the Judgment-seat,
Though c1)anged anù gll rifled each face,
Not unremember'd we may meet,
For endless ages to embrace.'

]

ay xxvii.]

.r1Ilìlotalion.
.

259

betwccn thosc companions who have trod together thc cluistian
path to Glory, and ha\'e e takcn swcct counscl togcther, and
walked ill thc house of God as fricnds.' ...\. change to illÙiffc- ,
rCllcc towards tho
p who have fixcd thcir hearts on the
ame
objects with our
ch'es during this e
ll,thly pi]gl'image, and have
gi,'cn aud received mutual aid during thcir course, is a change
as little, I trust, to be expected, as it is to be desired. It cer-
tainly is not such a change a8 the Scriptures teach us to pre-
'Pare for.
e And a belicf that, undcr such circumstances, our earthly
attacllInellts will rcmain, is as beneficial as it is reasonable. It
ia likely very greatly to influence our choice of friends; which
surely i:-; no sOlall Blatter. .A. sinccre Chri
tian ,vould not indeed
bc, at any ratc, utterly carele
s whether th05e were sincere
Christians abo, with whom he connected hilllself: but his eare
i
likely to be Inuch greatcr, if he hopes, that, pro\'ided he shall
ha,'e
clpcted
ueh a
(Ire treading the sanle path, and if he shall
havc studied to pron10te thcir etcrnal welfare, he shall Ineet
again, J1e'.er to part l11ore, those to whom his heart is most
engaged here below. rrhe hope also of rejoining in a better
state, the fi.iclld whom he secs a(hTancillg towards that state, is
an additional spur to his own virtuous exertions. Everything
which can n1ake hea\Ten appear more desirable, is a help towards
l1Ï:5 progre

ill christian ex.cellcnce; and as one of the greatest
of earthly enjoymcnts to the best and most exalted Christian, is
to witness the happines-, of a friend, so, one of the brightest of
his hopes will be, that of exulting in the n10st perfect happiness
of tho:se most dear to hitn.
e ...\:5 for the grief, which a man may be supposed to feel, for
thc ]o:-;3-the total and final loss-of some who may hHxe been
dear to hiln on earth, as wcll as of va
t n1u1titudes, I fear, of
his fellow-creatures, I ha\e only this to renlark: that a wi
e and
good Dlan in this lifc, though he nc\'er ceases to use his en-
deavour:; to reclainl the wickcd, and to din1Ìnish et.ery kind of
c\"il and sufferil1g, yet, in cases where it is clear that no good can
be done h) him,
trivcs, as far as possible (though oftea without
111uch success) to will,draw his thoughts froll evil which he
caUtiot IC
SCIl, but which still, in spite of his efforts, will often
cloud his nlind. 'Ye cannot at pleasure draw off our thoughts
el1til"cl
' frOll) painful subjects which it i
in vain to lllcditate

260

Of Fl'iendship.

[Essay xxvii.

about. The po,ver to do this completely, when we will, ,vonld
be a great increase of happiness; and this power, therefore, it is
reasonable to suppose the blessed will possess in the ,,'orld to
come-that they will occupy their n1Înds entirely with the
thoughts of things agreeable, and in which their exertions can
be of seryice; and will be able, by an cffort of the 'will, con1-
pletcly to banish and cxclude every idca that Inight aHoy their
happiness.'

, A desire to sequester a 'Jnan's self fo-;. a higher conversation
such as is found . . . . . really and truly in divers of the
ancient lterrnits and holy fathe'rs of tile Church.'

Bacon here seems to agree in that commenrlation of a
monastic life .which is sometilnes heard even from Protestants.
On this subject I take leave to quote a passage from the
Cautions for the Times.
'The monks are represented by Roman-catholic ,vriters as all
pious men J ,vho, bent upon the cultivation of a religious tempcr
of mind, ,vîthdrew fron1 the ,vorld for that purpose; as if the
business and duties of this ,vor'ld "Tere not the very discipline
which God has appointed for culti,Tating real righteousness in
us. And then, the learning, peace, and piety of the monas-
teries is strongly contrasted with the ignorance and irreligion
and perpetual 'val'S, of the dark and troublous times, .which are
commonly called 'the middle ages,' in such a manner as that
even Protcstants are sOlnetimes led to think and say that, at
least in former times, and fo't' those times, the monasteries ,,,ere
commendable institutions. But thcy forget that it was the very
system of which these ,vere a part, ,,,hich r/lade the world so dark
and unquiet; and then, like the ivy ,,'hieh has reduced a fine
building to a shattcred ruin, they held together the fragments
of that ruin.
'Of course, if you teach men that holiness can be only, or can
be best attained by withdrawing from the world into a cloister,
all those who are bent 011 li,"'illg a holy life will withdraw from
the ,vorId; and they will, in so ,vithdrawing, take from the
world that "which
houlc1 reform it-the benefit of their teaching,
and the encouragcment of their cxan1ple. One after another
all those most promising men) 'who should have been) each in

I
I
I
I
I
I
J
!

E .. ]
4 s!'av
xnL.
.

.A n not ations.

261

the place where Providcnce had sct hilTI, 'the light of the
"or1d,' and C the salt of the earth,' will lcave the station to
which God had. caned them, and seclude tIlcnlSelycs within the
,\ aHs of a nlonastcry; and then, in proportion as thc influcnce
of good nlcn is renloycd morc and more, socicty will bccome
e'"cJ'V day worse and wor
e. rrhe husiness and pleasures of the
worict win be looked upon as ncccs
arily Rinful, and those who
nlÏ
in thcm a
ncccs::,al'ily unholy; and the thought of using
thenl a
a disciplinc in godliness, and learning how to C use this
world without abusillg it,' will he lost out of nlen's minds; till
at last, by the working of such a system, all appcarancc of piety
will really be confined to the monasteries, and the common state
of society, aud the ordinary conrse of life, will be tainted with
illlPl1rity, arHl di
turhed by violence, and the world will seem
again, as it did ill llCathcll tilHes, to C lie in wickedness.' ,Vhen
the S.\LT is thus drawn a\\ ay from the mass, and collected to
particular spots, the remainder is left to putrify.
C Lct us illustrate thi
by an cxamplc. Some, eycn English-
Blcn, who ha\"e yisited Slave-Statcs, are
atisfied at being told
that the sbxes arc far better off and nlore ciyilized there than
ill thcir own barbarian countries; which is} probably, for the
most part true.
C J3ut wIlY haye thc African countrics continued so long in gross
hal'bal'isln? They ha\-e long had intercourse with Europeans,
who nlight ha'"e taught thern to raise sugar and cotton, &c., at
hOlllC, for the Europpan lllarkcts, and in other ways might have
ci,'ilizcd thcm. And it cannot be said that they are incapable
of learning;
ince frce llcgrocs in various eountrie
, though they
have the di
ad\-antagc of being a degraåcd caste, are yet (how-
en
r infcrior to us) far advanced beyond the sa\Tage tribes of
.Africa.
C But it is tl1c very sTare-trade itself that has kept them har-
bariall
, by encouraging wars for the pnrpose of taking captives
to be
old as
laves, and the yillauous practices of kidnapping,
and trading in each othcr's happines
and liberties. It is the
\ cry
ystelll it:...clf, which TIlen
eek to excuse by pointing out
the cOlllfortablc state of slaves whcn thev are cau<J'ht and sold
J t'I ,
that, to a great e'\.teut, IJl'oduces, and nlust, if persisted in, per-
pptuate, the harbarous condit-ion with which thi
comparative
comfort is contrasted. The whole of these AJrican tribes nlÍght,

262

Of Friendship.

[Essay xxyii.

under a better system, }layC enjoyerl in frpedom, far, very far,
greater comfort in their nativc land, than that which SOUle of
them now possess, as slaves, in a foreign land.
, So, also, in tIle case of the monasteries. Those ,vho shut
themseh'es up there might .have exercised a much better and
more rational picty (like the Apostles and first Christians) out
of them, and in the world; and if the)" had lived amongst their
fello,v-men, ,vould have helped to raise the ,,,hole tone of society
around them. And it ,yas just the sanle evil systelll which
buried some good men (like lalllps in sepulchres) in the cells of
monasteries, and made the general mass of society outside the
walls of tliose establislllllcnts so bad, that it seenlcd to excuse
their withdrawal from it.
, It is to be acknowledged, indeed, that some monks some-
times did some good for the rest of the ,,'orlrl. They ".cre
often engaged in education, attendance on the poor, copying of
manuscripts, agriculture, &c., and all these wel'e really 'llsl1 U l
occupations. It is not to these things ,,'e ohject, when ,re
object to monasteries; for with monasteries these have no
necessary connexion.
, Let associations be forlned FOR a good ohject, when need-
ful; instead of first forming an association as an end in itself,
and then looking out for something for it to do; else, that
something, being a secondary matter, ".in sOlnetinles be ill
done, or neglected, and sometilncs .will be "hat had better be
left undone.'

(There is as much di.ff'el
ence between the counsel that a friend
giveth, and that II rllan giveth hi1uselj, as there is belu'een
lite counsel of a friend anà of a flatterel.. F01" tlu:re is no
such flatterer as a 7llan's self.'

I bave already ]'en1arked, in the notes on 'Truth,' that men
are in danger of exercising on them
eh'es, when under the
influence of some passion, a most pernicious oratorical power,
by pleading the cause, as it ,,,ere before hÜllself, of that pa:s
ioll.
Suppo
e it anger, for instance, that he is feeling: he is naturally
disposed to dwell on, and amplify, the aggravating circunlstances
of the supposed proyocation, so as to n1ake out a good case for
himself. rJ:'his of course tends to Iteighten his resentment, and

Essay xxvii.]

AllllotalioJl.
.

26 3

to
atisfy hitn that he ' cloth well to he angry j' or perhaps to
l)crsuadc him that he is /lot angry, but is a moùel of patience
und('r intolerable wrongs. And the like takes place, if it be
:5clfish cupidity, unjust partiality, party-spirit, or any other
pa

ion that Inay be operating. For, ullivel'sally, men are but
too apt to takc more pains in justifYing their propensities, than
it "ould cost to control theine But be.sides the danger of self-
dcceit, when unùer the immediate influence of a pa
sion, many
a man deccivcs hiln
elf as to what rcally are his own uatural
tendcncies. For instance, one who is sOluewhat inclined to the
love of money may fancy hÎlnself rcnlarkaLly liberal j because
evcry act of liberality" ill have cost him such an effort, that
he will think lunch of it, as a mo
t heroic sacrifice. A nlan,
again, who ha
HUlCh sclf-esteern, Iuay fancy hiluself peculiarly
modest and humble, because he will vicw, as it were, through
a nlagnifying -gl3.8
any act of condescension, and will seem to
himself to be 10\\ ering hi
own j ust prctell
iol1s, when he is
taking upon hilnself le
s than he thinks he has a fair clainl to,
thong"h, in reality,l1101'C than is right.
\lld so in other ca
es.
1\ ow, as the advice of a good physician may be of use in
helping us to ulldcrstand our own bodily constitution, so a
judicious fricnd, a wise and candiù counsellor, nl3.Y perform a
like
er\.i('e in the ilnportaut point of self-knowledge, and help
to guard us against this kind of self-deceit. ..According to the
llilldoo law, the penalty denounced against a breach of COll

jugal fidelity is rcmitted only in ca8e of the illdncenlcnt to its
cOlnJni
sion having been the present of an elepltant,-this being
considcl'cd a dOllcellr too Inagllificent for anyone to be expected
to j'cfu.sc. :Now, in Europc, though an actual elephant is not
the very thing that otfcrs thc strongest temptation, there is in
nlo
t peoplc's cOll
eience
onlCthing analogous to it; and diffe-
rent things arc' elephants' to diffcrcnt people. IIappy is that
Juan who has a faithful friend to ren1Ïnd hint to bc on the look-
out for, and to help him to discovcr, his' elephant.'

'Observing our faults in otlleì.s is sometimes improper for
our case.'

It win alwar
he ilnproper for our ease unless we make the
right u
c of such ohscr\"ation,-which IS, so to estimate the

2 6 4

OJ Friends/lip.

[Essay xxvii.

temptations of others that "re may the better understand our
o,vn.

, How is it men, when they in judgment sit.
On the same faults, now censure, now acquit?
'Tis not that they are to the error blind,
Eut that a different object fills the mind.
Judging of others, we can see too well
Their grievous fall; but not, how griev'd they fell :
Judging ourselves, we to our minds recall,
Not how we fell, but how we grieved to fall.'
-Crabbe, Tales of tlle Hall.

But though ten thousand of the greatest faults in others are, to
us, of lcss consequence than one small fault in ourselves, yet
self. approval is so much more agreeable to us than self-
examination-which, a:s Bacon says, 'is a medicine sometimes
too piercing and corrosive,'-that we are more ready to examine
our neighbours than ourselves, anù to rest satisfied with finding,
or fancying, that ,ve are better than they; forgetting that, even
if it really is so, better does not al" ays imply good; and that
our course of duty is not like a race which is vron by him ,,-ho
runs, however :5lowly, if the Test are still slower. It is this
forgetfulness that causes bad examples to do much the greatest
amount of evil among those ,,-ho do not follo,v them. For,
among the four kinds of baa examples that ùo us harm-
. namely, those 've Ï1nitate-those ,ve proudly exult over-those
"which drive us into an opposite extrellle-and those ,yhich
lower our standard,-this last is the 11l0st hurtful. For one who
is corrupted by becoming as bad as a bad examIJle, there are ten
that are debased ùy being content ,,'ith bcing better.
But though this observing of faults in another is thus' some-
times improper for our case'-and though, at allY time, to dwelt
on the faults of another is ,vrong,-yet in the case of a friend,
though not of a stranger, we are perhaps ready to fall into the
opposite error, of o\'erlooking then1 altogether, or of defending
them. N ow, it is absolutely necessary to perceive and ackno,v-
ledge them: for, if we think ourselves bound to vindicate them
in our friend, we shall not be very likely to condelnn them in
ourselves. Self-Ioye 'v ill, lllost likcly, demand fair play, and
urge that ,vhat is right in our friend is not 'rrong in us; and
we shall have been perverting our own principles of morality;
thus turning the fricndship that might yield such' fair fruit'
into a baneful poison-tree.

Es
ay x:\.vii.]

AnJlotations.

2 6 5

, Tlte two noble fruits of friendship (peace in the affections, and
support of tlte jzulgUlellt) follow tlte last fruit, which is,
like tlte púmegranate, full of Juany kernels .. '

, The IIlanifold use of friendship.'
One of tllCse manifold uses of friendship is, the a(h"antage,
not noticed hy Bacon) to bc deriyed from a very, very discreet
and pure-luilldcd fJ'iend; that you may trust him to conceal
fron1 you SOllIe thiug
which you had better not kno,v. rrhere
are cascs in "hich there is an ad \rantage in knowing, and au
alh'antage in not knowing; and the two cannot of course be
combincd, except by the thing being known to your other self-
your' alter ipse,' -and kept back froln you.
}4'or 111stallcc, a nlan )uay haye done sOlnething amiss; your
friend lllay say to hÜn, 'I ha\'e not told Iny fricnd of this, and
will not, pro\ ided you take care to discontinue the practice-to
rectify what is done wrong,-to keep clear of any repetition, &c.,
Ws the Ca
c nmy be.' l\nd he ,,"ill be lnore encouraged to do
so if he knows that your c
tilllation of hÏIn is not as yet
illlpaired. And Jet sueh a person has neecl to be carefully
looked after; which of course your friend w.ill take carc to do.
And thcrc arc other cascs abo in which such a concealn1ellt
will be advantageous. But of course one who can be so trusted
nUlst bc, as ha5 bcell said, one of conSUlllmate wisdom and
integrity.

I t may be worth noticing as a curious circumstance, "\then
pcrson
pa
t forty before thcy wcre' at all acquaintcd, form
together a ycry dose' intimacy of friendship.
--'or grafts of old
wood to take, there must uc a wonderful congeniality between
the trees.

ESSAY XX'TIII. OF EXPEKSE.

R ICHES are for spending, and spending for honour and good
actions-therefore eA\.traordinary expense must be lin1Ïted
by the 'worth of the occasion: for voluntary undoing 1 nlay be as
,yell for a man's country as for the kingdom of heaven; Lut
ordinary expense ought to be limited by a man's estate, and
governed with such regard as 2 it be within his COlnpass; aud not
subject to deceit and abuse of ser,'ants; and ordered to the best
sho\v, that the bills may he less than the estimation abroad.
Certainly, if a roan win keep but of even haud, his ordinary
expenses ought to be but to the half of his receipts; and if he
think to wax 3 rich, but to the third part. It is no baseness
for the greatest to descend and look into their own estate.
Some forbear it, not upon negligence alone, but douhting 4 to
bring themselves into nlelancholy, in respect 5 they shall find it
broken: but ,,'ounds cannot be cured without searching. He
that cannot look into his own estate at all had need both chuse
well those whom he employeth, and change theln often; for new
are more timorous and less subtle. lIe that can look into his
estate but seldom, it beho\-eth him to turn all to certainties. A
man had necò, if he he plentiful ill sonle kind of expense, to be
as saving again in some other: as, if he be plentiful in diet, to
be saving in a.ppareJ ; if he be plentiful in the hall, to be saving
in the stable, and the like; for he that is plentiful ill expenses
of all kinds, will hardly be presel'ycd from decay. In clearing
of a lllan's estate, he 111ay as well hurt himself in being too
sudden as in letting it run on too long, for hasty selling is
commonly as disad\'antageable 6 as interest. Besides, he tJJat
clears at once will relapse, for, finding hinlself out of straits, IJC

1 Lndoing. Ruin. 'He that ventures to be a surety for another, vcntures
'imdoing for his sake.' -Soul//;.
2 As. That. See page 22.
3 'Yax. To grozo; to become. See page 252.
4 Doubt. To fear.
, I doubt there's deep resentment in his mind.' -Otway.
5 In respect. In case.
6 Disadvantugeable. IJisadva IllageO'lls. 'The said court had given a verJ' dis-
adl."antageable relation of three grcat farms.'-Addison.

E
say
c{\'iii.]

Annotations.

26 7

will rcvcrt to his customs; but he' that clcarcth hy degrces
illduccth a hahit of frugality, and gaincth as well upon his
mind as upon his estatc. Certainly, who 1 hath a state to rcpair
may not de:'\pi
c sOlall things; and, commonly, it is lc:':s dis-
honourahlc to abridge petty charges than to stoop to petty gettings.
A man ought ,varily to bcgin charges which, once begun, will
continue; but in matters that return not, he may be more
maguificcll t.

AKXOTATIOXS.

, Ric"e,
al'e for .
pelldillg j and spending for llonour.'

}1'or those" ho are above the poorcst classes, the heaviest, or
....0111(' of the h('aviest cxpenses are, as Bacon expresses it, ' for
hOllour'-i.e. for thc display of wealth. 'Ye do not, indeed,
connllonly speak of ' display of wealth' except when t hp wea1tlJ
alul thc display of it are something unusually great. \Ye speak
rather of ' liying in a deccnt or in a handsolne style.' But this
does certainl) imply the purchase of nlany articles which we
provide ollrselves with hecausp th('y are costly;-which are pro-
,ided in order to he observed, and obscr\-ed as costly; or, which
COUles to the same thing, because the absence of then1 would be
olJscryed a", dcnoting shahbinc:ss. For instance, a silver watch, or
a gilt one, is as useful as a gold one; and becch or cherry-trce
nlake
as useful furniture as mahogany or rose-wood. And as
for the mere gratification to the eye, of the superior beauty of
these lattcl', this is, to pcr50n
of moderate JTIcans, 110 sufficicnt
set-off against the differcnce of co
t.
Ioreo"er, a buneh of
"ill! flowers, or a necklace of crab's-eye-sceds, &c., are as pretty
to look at, and as hecollling, as jewf'ls or coral; and if these
latter were to becon1c equally cheap, some other kind of deco-
ration would be sought for, and prized on account of its known
CO:-tlillCSS.
For, though people ccnsure anyone for making a display
lUJyond his station, if he falls bclow it in what are considered

1 \Yho. He tvlw.
ce p
ge 75.

OJ Eapense.

[Essay xx\'iii.

the decencies of his station, he is considered as either absurdly
penuriou
, or else very poor.
Anò why, it may be asked, should anyone he at all ashamed
of this Iatter,-supposing his poyerty is not the result of any mis-
conduct? The answer is, that though povcrty is not accounted
by any persons of sense disgraceful, the exposure of it is felt to
be a thing indecent: and though, accordingly, a right-minded
man does not scek to lnake a seC'l.et of it, he does not like to
expose it, any more than he 'would to go without clothes.
The Grecks and Romans had no distinct expressions for the
, disgraceful' and the 'indecent:' 'turpe' and U{(J'Xpov seryed to
express both. And some of the ancient philosophers, especially
the Cynics (see Cic. de Off.) founded paradoxes on this ambi-
guity, and thus bewildered their hearers anù themseh'es. For
it is a great disadvantage not to haye (as our language has)
distinct expressions for things really different.
There are se"eral things, by the way, besides those just
attended to, 'which are of the character of, not disgraceful, but
inùecent: that is, of the existcnce of ,\'hich we are not ashan1ed,
hut which we should be ashamed to obtrude on anyone's
notice: e.g. self-love, which is the deliberate dcsire for one's
own happiness; and regard for the good opinion of others.
These are llot-,,-hen not carried to excess-\ ices, and con-
sequently are not disgraceful. Any vice a nla-n wishes to be
thought not to have; but no one pretends or wishes to be thought
,,-bo11y destitute of all regard for his own welfare or for the
good opinion of his fello\y-cl'eatures. But a man of sense and
delicacy keeps these in the background, and, as it "'ere, clothes
them, because they become ofi'eusi,'e when pron1Ïnclltly dis-
played.
And so it is ,,'ith poverty. A nlan of sense is not ashamed
of it, or of deliberately confessing it; but he keeps the rnarks
of it out of sight.
These obscryations a person was ll1aking to a friend, who
strenuously controvcrted his views, and could not, or would not,
perccive the distinction aboye pointed out. 'I, for In)" part,'
said he, 'am poor, and I feel no shame at all at its being
known. \Yhy, this coat that I now ha\"c on, I have had turned,
because I could not well aflord a new one; and I care not who
knows it.' lIe did not perceive that he had cstablished the

E ... ]
;
say :XXYIll.

Annotations.

26 9

vcry point he .was controverting; for if there had been, in his
vicw, nothing indecent in the di
play of po,'crty, he would havc
,,'orn the coat without turning. lIe might have had it scoured
if needful; but though clcan, it ,yould still ha'
e lookcd thread-
bare; and he did not like to make this di:splay of povcrty.

( Ordinary e.:rpcllse Ollultt to he liJJÛted by a ulan's estate.'
It is of course a great folly-and a ycry common one,-for
a Ulan to ÍlllPo'9crish hilnsclf ùy a showy expcnditure beyoud
his llleallS. .A.ud it i
a Ininor folly for him-without out-
l'Ulluillg-tO Inake a display beyond his ßtation, and to ,vaste
Inoney on show such as was not expectcd of him, when he might,
obviou
ly, have found nlany hetter u
es for it; but when to
chnsp the tilHe as to cach l>oint, ,\ ould of cour
e he no easy
Blatter.
}>cl'haps it nlay bc laid down in rcfercllce to" hat may be
called ornamental c
pcnsc-anything that is not so strictly re-
quired as a deceucy, that you would be censurcd and ridiculed for
bcing without it,-that you should ha,-e such articles only as
yon can aflord, not ouly to bUYJ but to replace; supposing them
of a perishahle nature.
For, the (honour,' as Bacon calls it, of any display of wealth,
consi
ts, surely, in not only having such and :5Hch articles, but
ha,-ing them without uncasincss j-without any very anxious
care about thenl. If you have a "cry fine set of china-ware, aud
arc in a continual apprehension of its being broken, you had
hcttcr, in point of rcspectability as well as of cOlnfort, ha,-e been
content \\ ith plain ,r orccster. If a lady is in a perpetual fever
lest ::,omc costly ycil or gown should bc soiled or torn, this.
iuùicatcs that shc would have done Lctter to wear a less costIv
c11'ess. Thcre is sornething in what is said by little Sandfor
l
in the' Talc,' who prcferred a horn cup to onc of sih-er, 'because
it never nladc hin1 ulleasy.'
Of course it is not Incant that a man s110uld not live in a
house such as hc could not afford with perfect ease to rebuild
if it were burnt do" n; or that he ought to be thus prepared to
11leet "ith other such extraordinary cahnnities. But he should
be prepared to meet each kind of acciùcnt that each kind of
article rcspccti\ cly is cOlll-lìlonly liable to: e. g. glass and poree-

27 0

Of Expense.

[Essay xxviii

lain to be broken, trinkets to be dropped and lost, llorses to be
lamed, &c. If you cannot face the orùinary and aycrage
amount of accidents "ith respect to any such article, or if it is
a matter of anxious care and uneasiness, you are better without
it. For thi
anxious cale and uneasiness proves that the ex-
pcnse is a great one to you. You may indeed conceal this
anxious care, and show, externally, a feigned composure and
indiffercnce. But then you are undergoing all this utleasiness,
-and also all this labour to hide this ulleasiness,-for the sake
of appearing richer than you are. But to one who has no wish
of this kind, the proper nleasure is, with a view to res})ectability,
as "'ell as peace of rr1Ìnd, not what expenses he can aflord, but
",-hat he can habitually afford without feeling tlte'ìn a grievous care.
Of course higher motiyes come in, ,,,hen one considers the
good that may be done, to our friends and to the poor, by
curtailing showy expenditure.
It is wonderful ho,v sOlne people fail to perceive what an
absurd and ridiculous figure a man makes ,,,ho is continually be-
moaning the narrowness of his 111eanS, and setting forth the hard-
ship of his case in not having a better income, while he is sitting
in a roonl full of inlaid tables, splendid inkstands and boxes,
and other costly gewgaws, which it is no discredit at all to be
,,'ithout, and "rhich are thought desirable chiefly as a display of
,vealth.

, It is no baseness for the greatest to descend and look into
their own estate.'

I t is ,,'orth remarking, as a curious circumstance, and the
TeyerSe of what many ,yould expect, that the expenses called for
by a real or imagined nccessity, of those ,,-ho ha,Te large in-
comes, are greater in proportiun than those of persons "ith
slenderer means; and that consequently a larger proportion of
what are called the rich, are in enlbarrassed circumstances, than
of the poorer. This is often o,.crlooked, bccause the absolute
raonber of those with large incomes is so much less, that, of
course, the absolute nun1ber of pcr
ons under pecuniary difficul-
ties in the poorer classes must form a very great majority. But
if you look to the proportions, it is quite the reycrse. Take the
numbers of persons of each an10unt of income, divided into
classcs, from J
" 100 pCl' annum up to fIOO,OOO per annum, and

E
say xx viii.]

Annotations.

27 1

YOU will find the pel. centage of those ,vho are undcr pecuniary

litfi(,llltics continually augJlteutillg as you goo upwards. ...\.nd
when yun COlllC to sovercign States, whose revenue is reckoned
hy Inillious, you will har<lly find one that is not decply illvoh'ed
in ùebt ! So that it would appear that the largcr the illcome,
thc hardcr it i
to livc withiu it.
,rhcn mcn of grcat revenues, whether civil or ecclesiastical,
live ill the :splcndour and sensuality of Sardanapalu
, they are
apt to plcad that this is e,rpected of thcm; w.hich may be,
pcrhaps, sonlctimcs trllc, in the sensc that such conduct is
anticipated as probable; not true, as Ílllplying that it is re-
quircli or approved. I ha'"e elsewhcre 1 remarked upon this
ambiguity in the word 'eJt..pcct:' but it is ,yorth noticing as
8oln('tiIIlC
leading, in conjullction with othcr causes, to a prac-
tical had eti"cct upon thi
point of expenses a:3 well as upon
lllany others. It is sometilnes used in the sense of ' anticipate,'
'calculate on,' &c. (ËÀ7TL'ttJ), in short, 'consider as probable,'
sometimes for' require or dernand a
rea
onable,' -' cOll
ider as
l'ight' ((

((;'). Thus, I lllay fairly' expcct' (

LW) that one ,,'ho
has ..ccci ,.cd kindness froIll me, should protect me in distress;
)
ct I may haye rCd.son to expect (iÀ7r:'cw) that he will not.
'ElIgland expects every lnan to do his duty;' but it ,vould
be chimerical to expect, that is, anticipate, a ullivcrsal pcr-
fornw,ncc of duty. 'Yhat Juay l'easollably be expected (in one
SCII."'C of the word), must be precisely the practice of the
Inajority; since it is the n1ajority of instances that con:stitutes
probability: what may reasonably be expected (iJ) the other
scn
c)) i
something luuch beyond the practice of the generality;

LS long, at lcast, as it shall be true, that 'narrow is the ,vay
that leadcth to life, and fcw there be that find it.'

, lie that is plentiful in expenses of all kinds will hardly óe
preserved front decay.'
Obviously true as this is, yct it is apparently conlpletely o\"e1'-
looked by the inlprudcnt spendthrift, who, findin6' that he is
ahle to afford this, or that, or the other, expense, forgets that
an of them together will ruin him. This is what, in logical
language, is callcel the' Fallacy of Composition.'

1 Elemellts of Logic, Appcndix.

ESSAY XXIX. OF TIlE TRUE GREATNESS
OF I(IXGDO:\IS AND ES'fATES.l

T HE speech of Themistocles, the Athenian, which ,vas haughty
and arrogant, in taking so much to himself, had been a
grave and wise observation and censure, applied at large to
others. Desired at a feast to touch a lute, he said, (he could
not fiddle, but yct he could make a small town a great city.' 2
These ,yords (holpen. 3 a little with a -metaphor) may express
two differing abilities in those that deal in business of estate;
for, if a true survey be taken of counsellors and statesmen, there
may be found (though rarely) those which can make a small
state great, and yet cannot fiddle, -as, on the other side, there
will Le found a great many that can fiddle very cunningly, 4 but
yet are so far from being able to make a small State great, ass
their gift lieth the other way-to bring a great and flourishing
estate to ruin and decay. And, certainly, those degenerate arts
and shifts, ,,-hereby many counsellors and goyernors gain both
- favour with their Inasters and estimation "Tith the vulgar,
deserve no better name than fiddling, being things rather
pleasing for the tinIe, and graceful to themselves only, than
tending to the ,ycal and advancement of the State ,vhich they
serve. There are also (no doubt) counsellors and governors
,vhich may be held sufficient, negotiis pares [able to manage
affairs], and to keep them from precipices and manifest incoll-
veniences, 'which, nevertheless, are far from the ability to 11aisc
and amplify an estate in power, means, and fortunc. But be the
,yorkmen what they nlay be, lct us speak of the ,,-ork-that is,
the true greatness of kingdoms and estates, and the means
thereof. An argument 6 fit for great and nJÌghty princes to

1 Estates. States. See page II4-. 2 Pluto Vit. Tltemist. ad init.
3 Holpen. See page 185.
4 Cunningly. Skilfully.
, .And mallY bardes that to the trembling chord
Can tUlle their timely voices czmningly.'-Spense1..
5 As. That. See page 22.
6 Argument. Subject.

, Sad task! )Tet m-gument
'K ot less, nut more, heroic than the wrath
Of stern Achilles.' -Milton.

E
sav }.. 'X.ix.]
.

OJ tIle True G,'eatnt88 oj Kingdoms,
'c.

2ï3

havc in tllCir hanù; to thc end that ncither by oycr-nlCasuring
thcir forces, thcy lose thclllseh.cs in vain enterpriscs; Hor, OIl
the othcr bide, hy under,"aluillg thenl, thcy descend to fearful
and pusillanin10us cOllnscl
.
Thc gl.catllcss of an estate, ill bulk and tcrritory, doth fa}]
undcr n1eaSlU'C; and the greatness of finances and rc'"cnue cloth
fall under conlputation. Thc pOI)ulatioll 111ay appear hy lllusters,
and thp number and greatness of cities and towns by cards and
UU1.p:-:,; hut yet thcre is not any thing, al1l0ngst ciyil affair
,
D10rc subject to error, than thc right yaluation and true
judgn1cut concerning the power and forccs of an estate. The
kingdom of heaycn is compared, not to any great kernel, 01'
nut, but tu a grain of Dlustard-:secd;1 which is one of tlJC least
grains, but hath in it a property and
pil'it ha5Jtily to get up and
spread. So arc thcre States great ill tcrritory, and yct not apt
to cnlarge or command; and son1e that hare but a sman
diulclbion of steIn, al1d yet arc al)e to be the foundation of
great monarchics.
"\Yalled towus, stored arsenals and arIl1orics, goodly races of
hor
eJ chariots of war, elcphauts, ordnance, artillery, and the
likc-all this is but a sheep in a lion's skin, except the breed
and òi:;position of the people bc stout and warlike.
)J" ar, nUlubcr (itself) in arluics Ï1nporteth 3 110t much, where
thc people are of wcak couragc; for, as '
irgil saith, ' It never
trouhlc
the wolf how many the shcep be.'" The al'lny of the
Per
ian
, in the plains of .Arbela, was such a vast sca of people,
as it did son1ewhat astonish the conunandel's in
.\..lexander's
arn1Y, who came to hilu, therefore, and wishcd him to sct upon
thcm by night; but he answercd,' lIe would not pilfer the
victory'5-and the defeat was casy. 'Yhen Tigrancs, the AI'-
nlcniall, bcing encampcd upon a hill with four hundred thousand
mcn, discoyered thc arnlY of the R0111anS, being not aboye
fourtccn thousand, n1arching towards him, he made hinlself
men'y \\ ith it, and said, , Yonder mcn are too luan}" for an

1 J[aff. xiii. 3 1 .
2 Apt. Qualifiedfor; adapted to. C ..\11 that were strong anù apt for war/-
2 King.,.
:s Import. To be of importance. :::;ee l)age 20.
4 Yirl"il
Eel. vii. 5 1. S .f L I V
C .'1. . . ii.II.

274 Of the True Greatness of ]iingdOJìlS,
AC. [Essay xxix.

ambassage,t and too fe"r for a fight;' but, before the sunset, he
found them enow 2 to give him the chase with infinite
.;}aughter.3

Iany are the examples of the great odds between number and
courage; so that a man may truly make a judgment, that the prin-
cipal point of greatness, in any State, is to have a race of military
men. Neither is money the sinews of war (as it is triyially said),
w here the sinews of men's arms in base and effeminate people
are failing; for Solon said ''rcll to Cræsus (when in ostentation
he sho,ved him his gold), , Sir, if any other come that hath
better iron than you, he "ill be master of all this gold.' There-
fore, let any prince, or State, think soberly4 of his forces, except
his militia of natives be of good and valiant soldiers; and let
princes, on the other side, that haye subjects of martial dispo-
sition, know their own 8trength, unless they be otherwise "rant.
ing unto themselves. As for mercenary forces (which is the
help in this case), all exalnples show that, whatsoeyer estate or
prince doth rest upon them, he lnay spread his feathers for a
time, but he will mew them soon after.
The blessing of Judas and Issachar 5 will never meet; that
the same people, or nation, should be both the lion's whelp,
and the ass between burdcns,-neither will it be, that a people
overlaid ,,'ith taxes, should e\Ter become valiant and martial.
It is true, that taxes, levied by consent of the estate, do ahate
meu's courage less, as it hath been seen notably6 in the excises
of the Lo,v Counh'ies, and, in SOlne degree, in the subsidies of
England; for, you must note, that .we speak now of the heart,
and not of the purse-so that although the same tribute and
tax, laid by consent, or by imposing, be all one to the purse,
yet it works diver:sely7 upon the courage. So that
rou n1ay

1 Åmbassage. Embassy. 'He selldeth an ambassage, and desireth conditions
of peace.'-L'UKe xiv. 32.
2 Enow. Old plural of enough.

l\Ian hath selfish foes enow besides,
That day and night for his de5truction wait.'-JIilton.
3 Pluto rìt. Luculli, 27.
.. Soberly. .ZIfoderately. 'Not to think of himself more highly than he ougl)t
to think, but to think soberly.'-Romans xii. 3,
5 Gen. xlix. 9, 14.
6 Notably. In, a remarkaUe manner. (From the adjective notable.)
, He is a most notaUe coward.'-Shakespere.
7 Diversely. Differently. (From dive,rse.) See page 20.

]

say xxix.] Of lite Truf GÎ'catness of ](ingdoflls,

c. 275

concludc, that no pcople overchargcd with tribute is fit for
CUIpU'C.
I..Jct States, that ainl at greatncss, take hced how their nobility
and gcntlclllcn do multiply too fa
t; for that maketh the
COInlnon subject grow to be a pcasant and base swain, d.'iven
out of hcart, anù, in effect, but a gentlenlan's lahourer. Even
as )90U Inay see in coppice woods, if you leayc your straddles
too thick, you shall ncver have clcan underwood, but shrubs
and bushes; 80 in countries, if thc gcntlen1cn be too lnany, the
conUl1ons will bc base-and you will bring it to that, that not
thc hundrcdth poll will be fit for au hehnet, especially as to the
infantry, which is the ncrvc of an army,-and so therc will be
great population and littlc strcngth. This which I speak of
hath hecn no where bcttcr scen than by comparing of England
and Francc; whereof England, though far less in territory and
})opulation, hath been, ncycrthclcss, an 0\germatch; in regard 1
the n1Íddle peoplc of England make gooù soldiers, which the
pcasants of France do not: herein the de rice of I(ing IIenry 'TII.
(whereof I havc spoken largely in" the history of his life) ,vas
profound and adn1Ïrable, in making farnls and houses of hus-
bandry of a
tandard, that is, n1aintaillcd with such a proportion
of land unto them, as may brecd a subject to live in convenient
l>lcllty, and no servile condition; and to keep the plough in the
halld
of the owners, and not mere hirelings; and thus indeed
you shall attain to 'Tirgil's character, which he gives to
ancicnt Italy:-
'Terra pot ens armis atque ubere gleùæ/ 2
K either i:s the estate 3 (which, for anything I kllO.W, is almost
peculiar to England, anù hardly to be found anywhere else,
c\.cept it be, perhaps, in Poland) to be passed over- I mean the
state of free scr\-ants and attcnùants upon noblemen and gentle-
lnen, which are no ways inferior unto the yeornanry for arms;
anù therefore, out of all question, the splclldour and D1agnifi-
cence and grcat rctinues, the hospitality of noblemen and
gcntlelllcll reccivcd into custorn, do luuch conduce unto lllal'tial

1 III re
ard. Por tlLe .1'
ason tlwt; on account of. 'Change was thought
l1l'Cl':,sary 1Il regard of the Injury the Church had received.'-Hooker.
2 Virgo Ælleid, i. 335 :-
,
'or deeds of arms, and fertile soil rellown'd.
3 Estate. Order of 'mel'.
cc page I 14.
T 2

276 Of the Ti'ue Gi'ealness of ](ingdoJJlS, Sjc. [Essay xxix.

greatness-whereas, contrariwise, the clo'Se and l'escr,.ed liying
of noblemen anù gentlcmen causeth a penury of military forces.
By all means it is to be procured, l that the trunk of N ebu-
chadnezzar's tree of monarchy2 be grcat enough to bear the
branches and the bough
; that is, that the natural subjects of
the crown, or State, bear a sufficient proportion to the strange
subjects that they go\-ern. Thereforc all States that are liberal
of naturalization towards strangers are fit for empire; for to
think that an handful of people can, ,,'ith the greatest courage
and policy in the world, embrace too large extent of dominion,
it may hold for a time, but it will fail suddenly. The Spartans
were a nice 3 people ill point of naturalization; 'whcreby, .while
they kept their compass, they stood firm, but ",'hen they did
spread, and their bouf!hs were becolllP too great for their stem,
they became a windfall npon the
udden. N eyer any State was,
in this point, so oI)en to receiye strangers into thcir Body as
were the ROll1anS; therefore it sorted -1 ,,-ith them accordingly,
for they gre,v to the grpatest monarchy. Their manner was to
grant naturalization (which thf'Y cancd 'jus civitatis J5 )-and to
grant it in the highest degree, that is, not only' jus c01l1mercii,
jus connubii, jus hærec1itatis,' but also (jus suffragii' and 'jus
hOnOrU1l1;'6 and this not to singular i persons alone, but like"rise
to ,,-hole families-yea, to cities, and sometimes to nations.
Add to this, their custom of l)lantation of colonies, 'whereby the
Roman plant was remoyed into the soil of other nations; and,
putting both constitutions together, you will say, that it .was not
the Romans that spread upon the world, but it "as the ,yorld
that spread ullon the ROlnans-and that was the sure way of
greatness. I have mal'\.elled sometimes at Spain, ho,v thcY'
clasp and contain so large dOlninions with so few natural
Spaniards: but sure the "whole COlnpass of Spain is a very great

1 Procured. Confrizoed; cared for.
... . 'Proceed, Saliuus, to procure my fall.'-Skakespere.
.. Da'i
. IV. 10, seq.
3 Nice. Dijficult.
4 Sort. To succeed; to happen.
'And if it. sort not well.'-Shalæspere.
5 The right of citizensh
p.
6 The right of traffie, thp right of marriage, the right of inheritance, the right
of voting, and tlle right of bearing offices.
7 Singular. Single. 'That which reprpsents oue determinate thing is called a
singular idea.'- Watts.

Essay xxix.] OJ tile True Greatness of ](in[Jdoms,
'C. 2 j'7

hody of a tree, far abo\Te Romc and Sparta at the first; and,
heside
, though they havc not had that nsagc to naturalize
lihcrally, yet they have that which is next to it-that is, to
cnlploy, alnlost iuùiffcrcntly, all nations in their militia of ordi-
nary soldiers, yea, anù
ometilnes in their highcst commands;
Hay, it
celneth at this instant, they al'c sensible of this want of
nati,.cs, as by the Pragmatical Sanction, now publi
hed, appeareth.
I tis ccrtain, that sedcntary and within-door arts, and delicate
111anufactures (that rcqnirc rathcr thc finger than the arm), have
in their nature a cOl1tral'iety to a nlilitary disposition; and
gPHerally all warlike people are a little idle, and love danger
bettcr than travaill-ncithcr nlust they be too Inuch broken off
it, if they shall he pr('scf\Tcd in vigoul o : thcrefore it ,vas great
a(h'autage ill the ancicllt states of Sparta, Athens, Ronle, and
others, that th('y had the u
e of
la\'c
, which comn1011ly diel
rid 2 tho
c Inanufacturcs; but that is aboli
hed, in greatest part,
1.y the christian law. That which comcth nearest to it is, to
lcavc thoßc arts chiefly to strangers (which, for that purpose,
arc thc marc easily to be l'ccei,'cd), and to contain the principal
bulk of th0 vulgar nati,'cs within those three kinds-tillers of
the ground, fi.ee
ef\'auts, and handicraftsnlen of strong and
manly arts, as smiths, masons, carpenters, &c., not reckoning
l)l'ofcs
cd soldiers.
But, ahovc all, for el11pire and grcatness, it importeth 3 most,
that a n
tioll do profess arlns as their principal honour, study,
and occupation; for the things which we havc formerly spoken
of arc but habilitations 4 towards arnls; and what is habili-
tation '" iihout intclltioll and act? Ronnllus, aftf'r his death
(as they report, or feign), sent a prcscllt 5 to the Ronlans, that
ahovc all they f'houlù intend 6 arnls, and then thcy should prove

1 Travail. Toil; labour. '.As en
ry thing uf pr:ce
so this doth require
trarail.'-Jfooker.
2 RiJ. To di!
patch.
, \V c'Il thither straig-ht; for wi1lil1gness rids way.'-Shakespere.
3 Import. To /;e of imporlance. See page 20.
4 I1al,ilitatioll. Qualification.
I) Present. A mandate.
, Be it known to aU men by these presents.'-Skakespere.
IS Intend. L'u pa." allention to.
C Go, therefore, m:ghty Powers! illtelld at home,
\Yhi1e here !'hall Le our home, what best may ease
The pr
s
nt miser
'/- Jliltoil.

27 8 Of tile True Greatness of Kin.qdo7ns,
'c. [Essay xxix.
the greatest empire of the ,,,orld. The fabric of the State of
Sparta 'was wholly (though not wisely) framed and composed
to that scope and end: the Persians and
lacedonians }lad it
for a flash; the Gauls, Gernlans, Goths, Saxons, Normans, and
others, had it for a tirrle; the Turks have it at this day, though
in great declination. Of christian Europe, they that have it
are, in effect, only the Spaniards; but it is so I)]ain, that every
man profiteth in that he Inost intendeth, that it needeth not to
be stood upon; it is enough to point at it-that no nation
,vhich doth not directly profess arms, may look to have great-
ness fall into their mouths: and, on thc other side, it is a
most certain oracle of tÍ1ne, that those States that continue long'
in that profession (as the Romans and Turks principaI1y have
done), do wonders; and those that ha\Te professed arnlS but for
an age have, notwithstanding, commonly attained that greatness
in that age which maintained them long after, when their pro-
fession and exercise of arms hath grown to decay.
Incident to this point is for a State to hayc those laws or
custon1S which may reach forth unto then1 just occasions (as
may be pretended J) of w&.r; for there is that justice Í1nprintec1
in the nature of men, that they enter 110t upon wars ("hereof
so many calamities do ensue), but upon some, at the least
specious, grounds and quarrels. The Turk hath at hand, for
cause of war, the propagation of his law or sect, a quarreP that
he nlay always con1mand. The Romans) though they esteemed
the extending the limits of their empire to be
reat honour to
their genel'als when it ,vas done, yet they ne,oer rcsted upon
that alone to begin a war. First, therefore, let nations that
pretend to greatness l1aye this, that they be sensible of wrongs,
either upon borderers, merchant8, or politic ministers; and that
they sit not too long upon a provocation: secondly, let them be
prest 3 and ready to give aids and succours to their confedcrates,
as it ever" as with the Ron1ans j insomuch, as if the confcde-
rates had leagues defensive with divers other States, and, upon

1 Pretend. To put foru'ard.
, Allll his lcft foot pretends.'-IJryde11.
2 Quarrel. Reason; !Jround for allY action. See page 7 I.
3 }Irest. Eager; quick.
'Each mind is prest, and opcn every ear,
To hear ncw t,dings.'-FuÍ1fax.
, They pour'd prestlg into the hall.'-Old Ballad, 1727.

E
,ay xxi
.l OJ tile True Grealllcss of ](ingrlo Il.9,
c. 279
in,-a:,ion offercd, did in1plore thcir aid
sevcrally, yet the
Itonl:tns would cver bc th(' forenlo
t, and lcaye it to none other
to have the honour. \.8 for the wars, which wcre anciently
Inade on the bchalf of a kind of party, or tacit conformity of
state, I do not :sce how thcy may be wcll justified; as whcn the
ItoJnan
Inade a war for the liberty of Græcia,l or 'when the
LaccdæIllonialls and _\.thenians made war to set up or pull down
dClnoeracics and oligarchies; or when ".ars ,vere made by
foreigners, undcr the prctence of justice or protection, to deliver
the subjects of othcrs fron) tyranny and oppression, and the like.
Lct it suffice, that no estate expect to be great} that is not
a\\ake upon any just occasion of arming.

o boòy can be healthful without exercise, neither natural
body nor politic; and ccrtainly, to a kingdom or estate, a just
and hUllourable war is the true' exercise. 1\. ci,'il war, indeed, is
like the heat of a fever; but a foreign war is like the heat of
cxerci
e, and serveth to keep the body in health; for in a
slothful peace, both courage
will effemillate/ and manners
corrupt: but ho" :soc,'cr it be for happiness, ,,'ithout aU question
for gl.catuC:-ìs, it Jnaketh to be still tor the nlost part in arms:
and the strcngth of a veteran army (though it be a chargcable
bu:sille
s), always on foot, is that which commonly gi,-eth the
law, or, at least, the reputation among5t all neighbour States, as
nlay be well seen in Spain; which hath had, in one part or
otl1(,1", a vetcran arnlY almost continually, now by3 the space of
SI)"-SCOl'C ycars.
r1'o hc master of the sea 4 is an abridgment of a nlonarchy.
Cicero, writillg to ....\tticus of POlnpey's preparation against Cæsar
saith, (Consi1iulll POlupeii plane rrhemistocleum est; putat cnim,
qui Juari potitur, CUIn rerunl potiri;' and without doubt, Pompey
had tircd out Cæsar, if upon vain confidence he had not left
that way. ,V c see the great effects of battle
by sea: the battle
of _\.ctiuln dccided the enlpire of the world; the battle of Lepanto
arrested the greatncss of the r1'ul'k. There be many examples

1 Græcia. Greece. 'And the rough goat is the King of Grecia.'-Dan. viii. 2 I.
2 Eti
lllillat('. To lJecume ejfemÙza{e 01" u'eak.
, In a slothful princc, courage will effeminate.'-Pope.
3 TIy. D1u'ing. ' B!J the
pace of three )"cars 1 ceased not to warn pvery one,
n:ght amI ùay, with tcars.'-.drts x.x. 3 1 .
4 'Pompl')"s plan is plainly from Themi
tocles; for he judgE's that whoever
b('comcs master of tbe sea is master of all things.' - Ad Å.tt ic. x, 8.

280 Of the True Greatness of ](ingdoJ1ls,

c. [Essay xxix.

.where sea-fights have been final to the '-rar; but this is ,,,hen
IJrinces, or States, haye set up their rest up')n the Latt1es; but
thus nluch is certain, that he that co-mlnands the sea is at great
tberty, and may take as much and as little of the war as he
-will; whereas those that be strongest by land are many times,
nevertheless) in great straits. Surely, at this day, with us of
Europe, the yantage 1 of strength at sea (which is one of the
principal dowries of this kl11gdonl of Great Britain) is great;
both because most of the kingdoms of Europe are not Inerely2
inland, but girt ,,-ith the sea most part of their compass, and
hecause the "'ealth of both Indies seems, in great part, but an
accessory to the command of the seas.
The wars of later ages seelll to be made in the dark, in
respect of the glory and honour which reflected upon men from
the "\-rars in ancient time. There be now, for martiai encourage-
n1cllt, some degrees and orders of chivalry) which, nevel'th
less,
are conferred p:omiscuonsly upon soldiers and no soldiers, and
some relncmbrance perhaps upon the escutch
on, and some hos-
l)itals for maimed soldiers, and such like things; but in ancient
times, the trophics erected upon the place of the victory, the
funeral laudati\-es 3 and monuments for those that died in the
''fars, the crO"TllS and garlands personal, the stJle of emperor,
which the great kings of the ,,'orld after borrowed, the triumphs
of the generals upon their return, the great donatiyes and
lal'gesses upon the disbanding of the armies, were things able
to inflame all men's courages; but, above all, that of the triumph
amongst the Romans was not pageants, or gaudery/ but one of
the ,,'isest and noblest institutions that ever was; for it con-
tained three things, honour to the general, riches to the treasury
out of the spoils, and donatiyes to the al'lny: but that honour,
perhaps, were not fit for monarclÚes, e
cept it be in the person
of the monarch himself, or his sons; as it came to pass in the
times of the Roman emperors, who did impropriaté' the actual

1 Vantage. Advantage.
, Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong.' -Shakespm 4 e.
J :\rerely. Completely.
3 Laudatives. Panegyrics. 'The first was a laudative of mOllarchy.'-Bacon'g
Speech.
4 Gaudery. Ostentatimls finery. ' The utmost gaudery of youth/-South.
s Impropriate. App'i"opriate. 'A supercilious t)'ranllY, improp1 4 iating the
Spirit of God to them
elve:5.'-.Milton.

E
sa y xxix.]
triunlphs to themsehres and thcir sons, for such wars as they did
achieve in per
on, and left only for wars achie,'ed by subjects

0111(' triumphal garments and ensigns to the general.
To conclude. . 1\0 luan can by care-taking (as the Scripture

3ith) 'add a cubit to his stature,' in this little n10del of a man's
hoùy; but in the great frame of kingdoms and cOlnmonwealths,
it is ill the power of prince
, or estates, to add amplitude and
(Jï'eatllC-.;
to thcir kino-ùolns , . for bv introducing- such ordinauces,
b 0", '--'
constitutit HIS, and cu
toln
, as we have now touched, 1 tbey may
sow greatllcss to their posterity and buccession. But these things
are commonly not ob3c.lTcd, but left to take their chance.

Annotations.

281

A:NXO
r _\rrlüXS.

c .111 slatcs t!tat are liberal o.f naturalization towards strangers
are fit for empire.'

',,"hat Bacon says of naturalization is n10st true, and Ï1nportant,
and not enough attended to. But he attributes more liberality
in thi
point to the Romans than is their due. He seems to
have forgotten their C Social ".,.. ar,' brought 011 entirely by their
rC'fusal to admit their subjects to f'i,-il rights.
It is renlarkable that, unùer the king-s, and again under the
C'H1perors, there was the nlost of this liberality, and under the
IlC'puhlic, the lcast. This is quite natural: when it is the citizens
that govern, thcy naturally feel jealous of others being adn1Ïtted
to an equality with tlIem; but the so,'ereign has no reason to
wish that one class or portion of his subjects should haye an
in,"idious ad,"antage o"er another. There is an exception to
this in cases" here religious fallaticisnl comes ill; as is to be
sccn in the 1\nkish cll1pire, where christian subjects have always
becn kept as a kind of IIelots.
On the ruinous results of keeping a portion of the people in
such a state, I have already dwelt ill the notes to the essay on
( Seditions and Troubles.'
A SOUlC" hat silllÌlar disa<h-antage in respect of adv311C'ement

. 1 Touch. To treat sligJdly. ' ]f the autiq1..arics have touchEd it, the
' llfive
mnnedintl'l
- qi!iaetl it.'-A.d,liso1l.

282 Of tlte True Greatness of ](ingdoJ11S,
4C. [Essay xxix.

ill virtue, at least, would attend any community whose institu-
tions were such as tended to arnl against the laws large bodies
of such persons, as were not, in the outset, destitnte of all
n101'al principle, but whose mode of life was a fit training to
n1ake them beccme so. Such are poachers and smugglers. An
excessive ll111ltiplication of the latter class is produced by the
enactment of laws, whose object is, not revenue, but the
exc1usion of foreign prorluctions for the supposed benefit of
domestic inùustry. 'Yhateyer ll1ay be thought of the expediency
of those laws ,,,ith a view to national ,vealth, all lllust agree
that the extension of smuggling must produce the most demo-
ralizing effects.

C HOîcsoever it be for happiness, 'without all question, for great-
ness, it 'JlIak
tlt to be still for tile 'JnOl$t part in aruls.'

It is consolatory to think that no one would now venture to
'write, as Bacon does, about wars of aggrandizement. But it
"'as the doctrine of his day; and of times not only llluch earlier,
but also n1uch later than his; for the same sentiments are to be
found in authors near two centuries after Bacon.
True it is, we are still bad enough in practice; hut the theory
nlust come first; and ,ye may hope the practicc will follow
in tilne. It is certain that the folly as "Tell as the wickedness
of wars of aggrandizement is llluch better understood, and nlore
freely ackno,vledged, than e\Ten fifty years back. And to thc
shallle of Christians, it nlust be adn1Ïtted that the 1110re correct
discernment of the costliness and consequent inexpediency of
even a successful war of conquest-which are e\Tery day beconl-
iug better understood-operates more in making men pause
before they enter into a "Tar, than nlotives of hunlanity
'Vhat used to mislead nlen, aud still misleads not a few as to
the costliness of ,yar, and the check it gives to national pros-
perity is, that they see the e
penditure go to our oW"n fel]ow-
subjects. ",.. e pay a great deal, it is true, out of the public
purse, to soldiers; but then it is our soldiers, the Queen's
subjects, that get it. Powder, and guns, and ships of war, cost
a great deal; but this cost is a gain to the lllanufacturel's of
powder and guns, &c. And thus people brought themselves to
fancy that the country altogether did not sustain any loss at

Essay xxix.]

Annotations.

28 3

all. This very doctrine is distinctly maintained by Coleridge, in
his pcriodical, The Friend, within the present century. I-Ie cen-
8urcs \'cry strongly son1e who had bewailed a 'few minions' of
war e
pcnditnre, and ,vho had pointed out ho\v nlallY roads
nlight ha\'e bcen made, and fens drained, and other beneficial
works accomplished with this money. Coleridge contends
against this that the country had not lo:st it at aU, since it was all
spcnt on our own people; and he parallels it with such cascs as
that of a man losing nloney at cards to his own wife, or transfer-
ring it from one pocket to another. lIe was extremely fond
of di
cns8ing "hat are really questions of political econolny
(thong'h the '/laJìze of it he disliked) and in which he ahnost
always went wrong.
Of coursc, if a heavy expcnditure is incurred in armalnents,
.when ncce
sary for the defcllce of our just rights, this is not to
bc accounted a waste, any more than the cost of bolts and locks
to keep out thic\rcs. But the al'gUl11ent of Coleriùge does not
at all look to any such necessity, but would equally hold good
if the moncy had been expended in gunpowder to be exploded
in fireworks, or in paying soldiers for alnusing us with shanl
fights, or for playinó cricket. :For, in that case also, the eXI)en-
diture would have gone to our own people equally.
'rhe fallacy ('onsi
ts in not percei \'ing that though the labour
of thc gnnpowder-Inakers, soldiers, &c., is not unproductiye to
tllem, illa
much as they are paid for it, it is unproductive to 'liS,
as it leaves no valuable results. If gunpo,vder is employed in
bla
ting rocks, so as to open a rich vein of ore or coal, or to
make a useful road, the nlanufactnrer gets his payment for it
just thc salne as if it had been made into fireworks; but then,
the Jnine, or the road, will remain as an article of wealth to
}Jinl who has so enlployed it. ,-\fter having paid for the powder
he will still be richcr than he was before; whereas, if he had
employed it for fireworks, he would have becn so much the
poorcr, since it would have left no results.
\Yhen, howe\?er, "War-expenditure does result in the conquest
of some tcrritory, and this tcrritory brings in some tribute, or
othcr profit beyond the cost of conquering it and keeping it in
subjcction-which is not often the case,-then, it Blust be
adnÚtted-waivillg all considerations of justice and hUluanity-
that sOlllething has becll gained. But the revenue thus "Tested

284 Of tlte True Greatness of Kingd01íls,

c. [Essay xxix.

from a subjugated countI'y must eyidently impoYeri
h the one
party as much (at least) as it enriches the other. The people
of the conquered territory haye to pay fOí" being ill governed;
and their increase ill prosperity is checked; while the greater
part of what is taken from thenl goes to pay the garrisons that
keep thenl in subn1Ïssion.
On the other hand, the reyenue derived fronl other lands by
comnlerce, enriches botlt parties; since the exchange of a cargo
of hardware, for instance, for a cargo of silks, iLnplies that the
one ,vho parts with the silk for the hardware finds the latter
the Ulore yaluable to hilll; and vice versa. Aud thus both
advance in prosperity.
From all the extensive provinces ,yhich the Romans held
under their sway, the English, .without holding them ill subjec-
tion at aU, deriye many times the revenue that the Romans
diù; since our conlnlerce ,vith theln has caused thenl to adyance
and to go on still a(h-ancil1g in prosperity.
If the Czar had spent half \vhat he has spent in encroaching
on his neighbours, in making roads, and draining Inarshes, and
in other ways improving his own soil, he would haye had much
more of the true ' greatness of enlpire,' and a greatness far leE;s
likely to be oyerthrown by other States. :For, as a general
rule, States are not exenlpt from the influences of the same
causes which, in the affairs of indi\Tiduals, proùuce good or baù
success. That the general tendency of each partIcular virtue
and vice in individuals is, to produce corrcsponding ,yorldly
advantages and di
adYalltagesJ is a doctrine which, in a specu-
lative point of view at least, fe\v would be di
posec1 to contro-
vcrt. And though thi
general rule admits of such nunlerous
exceptions, that a right-nliuded ahd considerate man would not
venture, in the case of any individual, to iufer that his success
in life had prccisely corresponded .with his deserts, or decidedly
to promise, for exalnplc, prospcrity to the honest, frugal, and
industrious, and denounce certain ruin to the profligate; yet he
,\Tould not fecI the less convinced of the certainty of the general
rule,-that such conduct will, for the most part, be attended
with such conseq nences. Thus, though we are not to believe
that regular teruporal rewards and punishments are dispensed
under the 1110ral gOYE'l'Ument of God to nations,
Tet the general
rule by which temperance, and integrity, and industry tend, in

ay :xxix.]

Annotations.

2gs

IH'iyatð life, to promote each man's hcalth, and reputation, and
pro"'pcrity, is applicable to nations also. Unpriuciplcd aggrcs-
sion will usually proyoke, sooner or latter, a formidahle retalia-
tion; and, on the other hand, moderation and good faith have
nlanifcstIy a general tendency to promote peace and internal
prosperity.
Anrl thus it is that religion, which produces these fruits of
morl('ration anù good faith, has an indirect, as well as a direct,
influence on national character. Its direct effects fe\v will be
disposed to deny, c\'en of those who helie\'e in no religion; since,
of several different forms of superstitious error, suppo
illg all
religions to be such, one may at least be more compatible .with
moral in1proyement than another. TIut it has an indirect effect
also, through its influcnce on national prosperity. To take, for
instance, the point of which we haye just been speaking :- 'V aI',
the direct demoraEzing effects of ,,-hich are probably still greater
than its impoverishing effect, would be wholly unknown, if
Christianity were heartily and gcnerally embraced; and, even
as it is, it has been much mitigated by that humanizing influ-
ence. Slavery, too-, equally demoralizing and impoverishing,
.would cease; and if both Slavery and 'Val' were at an end, the
wealth of nations .would increase,-but their ci,'ilization, in the
most important points, would increase in a still greater ratio.
That this progressive civilization,-this ad\Tancement of man-
kind, not merely as indiyiduals, hut as communities,-is the
design of the .L\hnighty Creator, scems eyiùent from the proyi-
sion nwde by his diyine 'Yisdom for the progress of society.
This pro\Tision is, I think, manifest in many portions of man's
conduct as a member of society, in .which is to be traced the
operation of impulses which, while tending immediatel)T to some
certain end contemplated by the agent, and therefore rational,
n1ay yet, as far as respects another and quite different end he
did not contemplate, be referred to a kind of instinct, or some-
thing analogous to instinct, which leads him, while doing one
thing by choice for his own benefit, to do another unùesignedly,
uudcr the guidance of Providence, for the service of the
community.
But thcre is nothing in which this providential guidance
i8 more liablc to be overlooked-no case in which ,\Te are more
apt to n1Ïstake for the wisdom of )Ian what is, in truth} the
wisdom of God.

286 Of the True Greatness oj ](ingdo1ns,
1C. [Essay xÀix.

In tIle results of instinct in brutes, '\e are sure, not only
that, although the anÏ1nals themselves are, in sotne sort, agents,
they could not originally have designed the effects they pro-
duced, but that even afterwards they have no notion of the
combination by ,vhich these are brought about. But when
kUlJ
an conduct tends to some desirable end, and the agents are
competent to perceive that the end is desirable, and the means
.well adapted to it, they are apt to forget that, in the great
majority of instances, those means "'ere not devised, nor those
ends proposed, by the persons themselves ,,-Ito are thus em-
ployed. rrhe worklnan, for instance, who is employed in casting
printing- types, is usually thiuking only of producing a cOlnmodity
by the sale of ,vhich he may support himself;
Vitll reference to
tltis object, he is acting, not from any in1pulse that is at all of
the character of instinct, but from a rational and deliberate
choice: but he is also, in the yery same act, contributing
most powerfully to the diffusion of knowledge; about ,,-hich,
perhaps, he has no anxiety or thought; in'reference to tit is latter
object, therefore, his procedure corresponds to those ol)era-
tions of yarious animals which we attribute to instinct; since
they, doubtless, derive some Ï1nmediate gratification from what
they are doing. Indeed, in all departments connected with the
acquisition and communication of knowledge, a similar procedure
may be traced. The greater l)art of it is the gift, not of human,
but of divine benevolence, which has implanted in l\Ian a thirst
after kllo,vledge for its o\"n sake, accompanied with a sort of
instincti ,-e desire, founded probably on sympathy, of comn1uni-
eating it to others as an ultiluate end. This, and also the love
of display, are no doubt inferior motives, and will be superseded
by a higher principle, in proportion as the indiyidual ad,-ances
in moral excellence. These motIves constitute, as it were, a
kind of scaffolding, which should be taken down by little and
little, as the l)erfect building advances, but .which is of indis-
pensable use till that is completed.
It is to be feared, indeed, that Society would fare but ill if
none did service to the Public, except in proportion as they
possessed the rare moral and intellectual endowment of an
enlightened public spirit. For, such a spirit, whether in the
form of patriotism, or that of philanthropy, implies not merely
benevolent feelings stronger than, in fact, we commonly meet

I
I
I
I
I
)
,

Essay xxix.]

AJlJlotation.
.

28 7

with, but also powers of abstraction beyond ,,-hat the Juass of
mankind can possess. .As it is, Inany of the most important
objects are accomplished by unconscious co-operation; and
that, with a certainty, con1pletene

, and regularity, which pro-
bably the most diligent benevolence under the guidance of the
greatcst hurnan wisdom, could never have attained.
For instance, let anyone propose to himself the problem of
supplying with daily provisions the inhabitants of such a city
as Loudon-that' province co"ered with houses.' Let anyone
consider this problem in all its bearings, reflecting on the
enormous and fluctuating number of persons to be fed,-the
immense quantity of the provisions to be furni
hed, and the
variety of the supply (not, as for an arnlY or garrison, compara-
tively uniform)-the Í1nportance of a convenient distribution of
them, and the necessity of husbanding them discreetly, lest a
deficient supply, even for a single day, should produce distress,
or a redundancy produce, from the perishable nature of many
of them, a corresponding waste; aud then let him reflect on
the anxious toil which such a task would impose on a Board
of tilc [llost experienced and intelligent comn1Í5saries, who, after
all, would be able to discharge their office but very inadequately.
Yet this object is accomplished far better than it could be by
any effort of human wisdom, through the agency of men who
think each of nothing beyond his own inl1l1cdiate illterest-
who are mcrely occupied in gaining a fair livelihood; and with
this cnd in view, without any conlprehensive wisdom, or any
need of it, they co-operate, unkllo'wingly, in conducting a sys-
tem which, "e n1ay safely say, no human wisdoln directed to
that end could have conducted so well-the system by which
this enormous population is fed from day to day-and combine
unconsciously to employ the wisest nleans for effecting an object,
the yastness of which it would ùewilùer them even to contem-
platc.
I haye said, 'no human wisdom; for wisdorn there surely is
in this adaptation of the nlcans to the result actually produced.
And adrnirable as are the n1arks of cOlltri\-ance and design in
the anaton1Ïcal structure of the hUlllán body, and in the instincts
of the brute creation, I know not 'whether it does not even still
lllore excite our admiration of the beneficent ,,'isdonl of Pro-
vidence, to contcIllplate, not corporeal particles, but rational,

288 Of tlte True Greatness of Kingdmns,

c. [Essay xxix.

free agents, co-operating in systenls no less manifestly indicating
design, yet no design of thcirs; and though acted on, not by
gravitation and impulse, like inert matter,' but by motives
addressed to the ,vill, yet ad \1ancing as regularly, and as effcc-
tnally, the accomplishment of an ohject they never contemplated,
as if they were the mere passive wheels of a machine. If one
may, without presumption, speak of a more or less in reference
to the works of Infinite \V isdon1, I ,vould say, that the branch
of Natural Theology with which we are now concerneù, presents
to the reflective mind views even more striking than any other.
The heavens do indeed' declare the glory of God;' and the
human body is 'fearfully and wonderfully Inade;' but Man,
considered not merely as au orgallised Being, but as a rational
agent, and as a member of society, is perhaps the most \von-
derfully contrived, and to us the most interesting, specimen of
divine 'Visdom that ,ve have any knowledge of. IIoÀÀà Tà

, , , r-., ) lJ'
" À
OHva, K OVÓél' avupw7T'OV OHVOTéPOV 7T'f H.
N ow, it seems to me that, to this proof, that it is the design
of ahnighty Providence that mankind should advance in civili-
zation may he added one dra,vn from the fact that, in proportion
as the religion of the Bible is embraced, and tnell becon1c
subjects to the revealed la\v of God, ci,-ilization progresses.
'And here I .would remark, that I do not profess to explain
\vhy, in so many particular instances, causes have bef'n permitted
to operate) more or less, towards the frustration of this general
design, and the retardation, or even reversal, of the course of
improvement. The difficulty in fact is one which belongs, not
to this alone, but to every branch of Natural Theology. In
every part of the universe we see marks of wise and benevolent
design; and yet ,ve see in many instances apparent frustrations
of this design; we see the productiveness of the earth inter-
rupted by unfavourable seasons-the structure of the animal-
frame enfeebled, and its functions impaired, by disease-and
vast multitudes of liying Bcings, exposed, fron1 various causes)
to suffering, and to premature destruction. In the moral and
political .world, "Tars, and civil dissension-tyrannical govern-
ments, unwise la,vs, and all evils of this class, correspond to
the inundations-the droughts-the tornados, and the earth-
quakes, of the natural world.
T e cannot give a satisfactor

account of either ;-\ye cannot, in short, explain the great diffi-

Essay xxix.]

Annotatiolzs.

28 9

culty, which, in proportion as wc reflect attentively, we shall
more and Inore percei vc to be the only difficulty in theology,
the existence of evil in the Universe. 1
'But two things we can accomplish; ,vhich are very impor-
tant, and which are probably all that our present facultics and
extent of knowledge can attain to. One is, to perceive clearly
that the difficulty ill question is of no unequal pressure, but
bears cqually heavy on Deisln and on Christianity, and on the
various different interpretations of the christian scheme; and
conscq uently can furnish no yalid objection to anyone scheme
of rcligion in particular. Even atheism does not lessen our
difficulty; it only alters the charactcr of it. For as the heliever
in a God is at a loss to account for the existence of evil, the
believer in no God is equally unable to account for the exis-
tence of good; or indeed of any thing at all that bears marks
of design.
, Another point which is attainable is, to perceive, amiùst all
the admixture of evil, and all the seeming disorder of conflicting
agencies, a general tendency ne,.ertheless towards the accomplish-
D1ent of wise and beneficent designs.
'As in conterrlplating an ebbing tide, we are sometimes in
doubt, on a short inspection, whether the sea is really receding,
bec3,use, frolll time to time, a "raye will dash further up the
shore than those which had preceded it, but, if ,,'e continue our
obser,"atioll long enough, we see plainly that the boundary of
the lan(l is on the whole advancing; so here, by extending our
view over 11lany countries and through several ages, we may
distinctly perceive the tendencies which would have escaped a
lllore confined research.'

1 Yet how many, in almost every past
ge (and so it will be, I SUppOSE', in all
future ages), have shown a tendency toward:i such pre5umption as that of our first
parents, in seeking to pass the limits appointed for the lwman faculties, and to 'be
as Gods, :K:NOWIliG GOOD AND EVIL !'

ESS.A. Y xxx. OF REGII\IEN OF HEALTH.

T HERE is a ,visdom in this beyond the rules of physic: a
man's own observation, ,vhat he finds good of, l and ,vhat
he finds hurt of, is the best physic to preserve health; but it is
a safer conclusion to say, 'This agreeth not ,ven with me,
therefore I will not continue it,' than this, , I find no offence 2
of this, therefore I may use it:' for strength of nature in
youth passeth over many excesses ,\rhich are owing a man till
his age. Discern of the coming on of years, and think not to do
the saIne things still; for age ,vill not be defied. Beware of sud-
den change in any great point of diet, and if necessity enforce
it, fit the rest to it; for it is a secret, both in nature and state,
that it is safer to change many things than one. Examine thy
customs of diet, sleep, exercise, apparel, and the like, and try,
in any thiug thou shalt judge hurtful, to discontinue it by little
and little j but so ass if thou dost find any inconvenience by
the change, thou COli1e back to it again; for it is hard to dis-
tinguish that ,vhich is generally held good and ,vholesome, from
that which is good particularly, and fit for thine own body.
rro be free-lninded and cheerfully disposed at hOTIrs of meat!
and sleep, and of exercise, is one of the best precepts of long
lasting. As for the passions and studies of the mind, avoid
envy, anxious fears, anger, fretting inwards, subtle and knotty
inquisitions, joys and exhilarations in excess, sadness not com.
municated. Entertain hopes, mirth rather than joy, variety of
delights ratlJer than surfeit of them; wonder and adn1Íratioll,
and therefore novelties; studies that fill the mind ,vith splendid
and illustrious objects, as histories, fables, and contemplations
of nature. If you fly physic in health altogether, it will be too
strange for your body ,,,hen you shall need it j if )TOU make it

1 Of. From.. See page 25 I .
2 Offence. Hurt; damage. (Now seldom applied to physical injury.) 'The
pains of the touch are greater than the ciffences of other senses.'-Bacon.
, To do offence and scath in Christendom.' -ShakesjJere.
3 As. Tltat. See page 22.
..
Iea.t. Food; meals.
, \s he sat at his meat, the music played sweet.'-Old Ballad.

Essay xx
.J

Annotations.

29 1

too familiar, it will work no extraordinary effect ,,
hen sickness
conleth. I comnlend I rather some diet for certain seasons,
than frequent use of physic, except it be grown into a custom;
for thosc dicts alter the body more, and trouble it less. Despise
110 new accident in your body, but ask opinion of it. In sick-
ncss, respect
health principally, and in health, action; for those
that put their bodies to endure in health, may in most sick-
ncsses which are not very sharp, be curcd only with diet and
tendering. Celsus could never have spoken it as a physician,
had he not been a wise man withal, "\-vhen he giveth it for one
of the great precepts of health and lasting, that a Ulan do vary
and interchangc contraries, but with an inclination to the more
benign extreille; use fasting and full eating, but l'ather full
eating'; watching and sleep, but rather sleep; sitting and exer-
cise, but rather exercise, and the like; so shall nature be
cherished and yet taught mastcries. Physician
are some of
thcnl so pleasing and conforluable to the hUlllour of the patient,
as 3 they press not the true cure of the disease; and some others
are so regular in proceeding according to art for the disease, as
they respect not sufficiently the conùition of the patient. Take
one of a nliddle tempel', or, if it luay not be found in one nlan,
combine two of either 4 sort; and forget not to call as well the
best acquainted with your body, as the best reputed of for his
faculty.

ANKOT...\TIOKS.

It is remarkable that Bacon should haye said nothing in this
Essay, of early and late hours; though it is a generally received
opinion that early hours arc conduci ,-e to 101lgeyity. r.rhere is
a pro\-erb that
t Early to bed, and early to rise,
}'lakes a man healthy, and wealth;y, and wise.'

1 Commend. To recommend. t I commend unto you Phæbe, our sister.'-
Romans xvi. I.
:I Hespect. Have regard to.
In judgment seats, not man's qualities, but
cau
e:; only ought to be respected.'-Kettleworth.
3 As. That. See page 22.
'" Either. Each. ' On either side of the river.'-Ret'. xxii. 2.
U 2

Of Regin
en of Health.

[Essay xxx.

And this is the l1l0re remarkable as being the proverb of a
nation ,,-hose 110urs are the latest of any.
It is reported of some judge, that "heneyer a 'witness came
before him of extraordinary age (as is often the case ,vhen
evidence is required relative to some remote period) he always
inquired into the man's habits of life; and it is said that he
found the greatest differences between them (some temperate,
and others free-livers; sonle actire, and SOIlle sedentary), except
in the one point that they were all early risers.
On the connection between early hours and longevity, the
late 1\11'. Davison ,vittily renlarked that this may be the nlean-
ing of the fabled marriage of Tithonus and Aurora. ' Longa
Tithonum minuit senectus.' Some have said, that this matter
admits of easy explanation. 'As men gro,y old they find them-
selves tired early in the evening, and accordingly retire to l
est;
and hence, in the morning they fiud themseh-es ,vakeful, and
l'ise.'
N ow, if it be stated as an ultimate fact, not to be accounted
for, that those ,vho have kept late hours in their youth, adopt,
froIll inclination, early hours as they gro,v old, then this state-
ment, ,yhether true or false (and it is one which ,,'ould not he
generally adnlitted), is at least intelligible. But if it be offered
as an explanation, it seems like saying that the earth stands
on an elephant, and the elephant on a tortoise, and the tortoise
again, on the earth. An old man rises early because he had gone
to bed early: and he goes to bed early, because he had risen early!
Some, when dissuading you fronl g
ing to bed late, ,,
n urge
that it is bad to have too little sleep; and when advising you
not to lie a-bed late, will urge that it is bad to have too much
sleep; not considering that early or late hours, if they do but
correspond with them3eh-es, as to the times of retiring and
rising have nothing to do ,,'ith the quantity of sleep. For if
one man goes to bed at ten, and rises at six, and another
goes to bed at two in the morning, and rises at ten, each has
the same number of hours in bed. If the one of these is (as
is generally belieyed) more healthful than the other, it n1ust be
from some different cause.
This may be l'elied on as a fact: a student at one of the
universities, finding that his health lras suffering from hard
study and late hours, took to rising at five and going to bed at

ay xxx.]

Annotations.

293

ten, all the year round; and found his health-though he read
as hard as cver-Illallifestly Ïruproved. J3ut he found hi mself
unable to compose anything in the morning, though be could
lake in the sense of an author equally well. And having to
\\-rite fOl' a prize, he coul(l not get his thoughts to flow. till just
about his llsual bedtilue. 'fhinking that this l11ight have
something to do with the digestion, he took to dining two
hour:; earlier, in the hopes that then eight o'clock would be to
hinl the sanle as tell. But it Blade no difference. And after
persevering in yaill attempts for some tillIe, he altered his
hours, and for one week, till he had finished his essay, sat up
and wrote at night, and lay a-bed in the morning. lIe could
'recise aud correct what he had written in the day-time; but
could not compose except at night. 'Yhen his essay was
finished, he returned to his early habits.
K O\V this i:; a decißive anSlrer to those who say' it is all
clls/mll; you write better at night, because that is the tinle you
haye bcen accustomed to employ for study;' for here the
custOlll was just the reverse. .A.nd equally vain is the explana-
tion, that 'the night hours are ljuiet, and you are sure of
ha,-ing no interruption.' For this student was sure of heing
quite free fronl interruption, from five o'clock till chapel-time
at eight. And the streets were much "Lo're still then than at
midnight. And again: any explanation connected with day-
light breaks down equally. }"'or, as far as that is concerned, in
the winter-time it n)akes no difference whether you have three
hours lllOl'e caudle-light in the earlier part of the night or before
sunrIse.
There is a son1ething that remains to be explained, and it is
better to confess ignorance than to offer an explanation that
explains nothing.
One other circun1stance connected with hours has not been
hitherto accounted for-llanlely, the sudden cold which comes
Oll just at the first }Jeep of dawJl. Sonle ::;ay the earth is gra-
ùuaUy cooling after the sun has set, and consequently the cold
must have reached its height jn
t beforc the return of the SUll.
This thcory sounùs plau:sible to those who ha,-e had little or
no personal experience of daybreak; but it does not agree with
the fact. The cold does flol gradually increase during the
night; but the temperature grows alternatcly warmer and

294

Of Regi'Jnen of Healtlt.

[Essay xxx.

colder, according as the sky is clouded 01" clear. And an who
have becn accustomed to night-travelling must have often ex-
perienced many such alternations in a single night. And they
also find that the cold at daybreak comes on very suddenly:
so much so, that in spring and autumn it often happens that it
catches the earth-worms, ,vhich on mild nights lie out of their
holes: and you may often see a whole grass-plat strewed with
their frozen bodies in a frosty morning. If the cold had not
cOlne on 'l'
ry suddenly, they ,vould have had time to ,rithdraw
into thcir holes.
And anyone who is accußtomed to go out before daylight
will often, in the winter, find the roads full of liquid mud half-
an-hour before dawn, and by sunrisc as hard as a rock. 'rhen
those who had heen in bed will often obser,re that' it was a
hard frost last night,' 'when, in truth, there had been no frost
at all till daybreak.
'Vho can explain aU these phenonlcna?

, As for tlte passions and studies of the mind, avoid . . . .'
Of persons who have led a ten1perate life, thosc "Tin llave the
best chance of longevity ,,,ho have done hardly anything else
but live ;-what nlay be called the neuter/" 'lierbs-not active or
passiye, but only being; who have had little to do, little to
suffer; but have led a life of quiet retirement, without exertion
of body or mind,-avoiding all troublesome enterprise, and
seeking only a conlfortable obscurity. Such men, if of a pretty
strong constitution, and if they escape any remarkable cala-
nlities, are likely to live long. But much affliction, or lTIuch
exertion, and, still more, both combined, will he sure to tell
upon the constitution-if not at Ollce, )Tet at least as )Teal's
adyance. One who is of the character of an actiye 01' pas
iYe
yerb-, or, still more, hoth combined, thongh he may be 8aid to
have lived long in eyerything but years) ,,-ill rarely reach the
age of the neuters.

ESS.A. Y XXXI. OF SUSPICIO
.

S USPICIONS amongst thoughts are like bats amongst hirds,
-they ever fly by twilight; certainly they are to be repressed,
or, at the least, well guarded, for they cloud the T.o.ind, they
lose friends, and they check with} busiuess, whereby business
cannot go on curl'ently2 and constantly; they dispose kings to
tyranny, husbands to jealousy, wise n1en to irresolution and
Inelancholy; they are defects, not in the heart, but in the
brain, for they take place in the stoute
t natures, as in the
example of I-Ienry '
II. of England. There was not a more
suspicious man nor a more stout; and in such a composition 3
they do slnall hurt, for commonly they are not admitted but
with exan1Ìllatioll whether they he likely or no; but in fearful
natures they gain ground too fast. There is nothing n1akes a
man suspect much, more than to kno,v little; and, therefore,
men should remedy suspicion by procuring to know ll10re, and
not to keep thcir SUspicIons in smother. 4 \Vhat would men
ha,'e ?-do they thiuk those they employ and deal with are
saints? do they not think they 1\Till have their own ends, and
be truer to then1sel vcs than to then1? therefore there is no
better ,yay to moderate suspicions, than to account upon such
suspicions as true, and yet to bridle them as false; fol' so far a
man ought to make use of suspicions as to provide, as if that
should be true that he suspects, yet it may do him no hurt.
Suspicions that the Inind of itself gathers are but buzzes; but
suspicions that are artificially nourished, and put into men's
heads by the tales and whisperings of others, have stings.
Certainly, the best meanS to clear the ,vay ill this same wood of
suspicion, is frankly to cOlnmunic
te them ,vith 6 the party that

I Check with. Interfere 'with. See page 84.
2 Curr('ntly. TVilh co,-dinued progression. 'Time, as it currentl!J goes on,
establishes a custom.'-1Ia!lward.
3 Composition. Temperament. 'A very proud or a very suspicious temper,
falseness, or sensuality . . . . these are the ingredients in the composition of that
man whom we call a scorner.' -Afterbu1"Y,
4 Sm.>ther. A. state of being sl-ifled. See page 25 2 .
:I l\lean. .J.1Ieans.
ee page 179.
, Communicate with. I'llpart to. See page 251.

29 6

Of Suspicion.

[Essay xxxi.

he suspects; for thereby he shall be sure to kno\v more of the
truth of them than he did before, and withal shall make
that party more circurnspect, not to give further cause of suspi-
cion; but this would 1 not be done to men of base natures,
for they, if they find themselves once suspected, will never
be true. The Italian says, 'Sospetto licencia fede ;'2 as if
suspicion did give a passport to faith; but it ought rather to
kindle it to discharge itself.

ANTI1'HETA O
SUSPICION.

PRO.
., * * :ICe
'Merito ejus fides suspecta est, quam
suspicio labefacit.
, The fidelity u,hich suspicion over-
thro'Ws, deserves to be suspected.'

CONTRA.
, Suspicio fidem absolvit.
, He 'Who is suspected is not on his
hO'itour.'

ANNOTATIONS.

, Suspicions Gl1longst thoughts G'ì"e like bats anlongst birds,-tlley
ever fly by llviligltl.'

As there are dim-sighted persons, ,vho live in a
ort of per.
petual tzviligld, so there are some ,vho, haying neither much
clearness of head, nor a very elevated tone of lllorality, are
perpetually haunted by suspicions of eyerybody and everything.
Such a man attributes-judging in great measure from himself
-interested and selfish motives to everyone. Accordingly,
having no great confidence in his own penetration, he gives no
one credit for an open and straiglhforward character, and will
al ways suspect some underhand dealings in everyone, even
,,,hen he is unable to perceive any mot.ive for such conduct, and
,vhen the character of the party affords no ground for suspi-
cion (' Ill-doers are ill-deemers').3 One, on the contrary, who
has a faIr share of intelligence, and is hitnself thoroughly up-
right, lrill be comparatively exempt from this torment. He

1 Would. Slwuld. 'As for percolation, which belongeth to
eparation, trial
'would be made by clarifying, by a clarion of milk put into warm bcer.'-Bacon
s
Ned. History.
2 Suspicion releases faith. 3 See P,'O'l:eròs fO'l" COlJy-lines.

Essay x
"\.i.]

Annotations.

'297

knows, from consciousness, that thcre is one honest man in
the world; and he will consider it very improbable that there
should he but one. He ,,-ill therefore look carefully to the
gencral character aud conduct of those he has to dcal with;
suspecting those-and those only-who haye given SOlne indi-
cations of a want of openness and sincerity, trusting those
who haye gi,-eu proof of au opposite character, and kceping his
jndgnlcut suspellrled
s to those of whonl he has not sufIiciellt
knowlcdge.
Such a man has (as ,vas observed in the note on the essay
on (Culluing') a better knowledge of hun1an nature than another
just equal to him in experience and sagacity, whose tone of
ll10rality is lo,v. For he kllO\YS that there are knayes in the
world; and he knows al
o that there are honest men; while the
other can hardly be brought to belie\"e in the existence of
thorough-going honesty.
And the frank and simple-hcarted will deal better, on the
"'hole, than the suspicious, eyen "With those who are not of the
vcry highcst n10ral character. For these, if they find that they
}la,-e credit for speaking truth, whell there is no good ground
for suspccting the contrary, and that inyidious designs are not
imputed to them without reason, "ill feel that they haye a
character to kecp up or to lose: and will be, as it "'ere, put
upon their honour. But these same persons, perhaps, if they
find themselves always suspected, will feel like the foxes in
one of Gay's fables, who, finding that they had an incurably
bad name for stealing poultry, thought that they might as well
go on with the practice} which would, at any rate, be imputed
to them.
A dean of a college, at one of our universities, told an under-
graduate, ,.ho was startled and shocked at finding his ,,
ol'd
doubtcd} that he could not trust the young men for speaking
truth, for that they regarded a lie to the dean as no lie. And} pro-
bably, this was really the case with the lnajority of then1. }-"Ol'
when they found that a luau's "
ord was not belie\-ed by him,
they had no scruple about saying to him what was untrue j on
the ground that where no confidence "was reposed] none could
be violated.
A.lld these same lllf'n, when the office of dean "Was held
by another fellow, of opposite character, ,vho put theln on their

29 8

Of SuspiciO'l1.

[Essay xxxi.

honour, never thought (except a very few utterly.worthless ones)
of telling a falsehood to llÎrn. A IJerson who once held offices
of high importance, and of vast difficulty and delicacy, ,vas
enabled to say, after more than thirty years' experience, that
though he had been obliged to employ many persons in confi-
dential services, and to Ïlnpart to thelll some most mOlnentous
secrets, he had never once had his confidence betrayed. No one
of them ever let out an important secret
onfided to him, 01' in
any way betrayed the trust reposed in him.
Of course, this person did not trust indiscriminately; nor did
he trust all to an equal extent. And he occasionally found men
turn on t worse than he had hoped: and often had plots and
cabals formed against him, and had lies told to hinl. But he
never ,vas, prol)('r]y speaking, betrayed. He always 'vent on the
principle of belieying that some men are thoroughly honest) and
some utterly dishonest, and some internlediate; and thoroughly
trusting or thoroughly distrusting, where he sa,v good reasons for
doing so; and suspending his judgment respecting the rest: not
putting himself in their power-yet not making them objects of
suspicion without cause,-but letting them see that he hoped well
of them, and considered the pre
ulnption to be on the side of
innocence till guilt is pro'Ted.
A man of an OpI)osite character, ,,'ho was long in a "ery high
and in1portant 11osition, afforded 111atter for doubt and discussion
among those who kne,v him, as to the opinion he entertained of
manki.nd. Some thought that he had a very good, and some a
very lllean, estinlate of nlen in general.
And each "'ere, in..a certain sense, right. He seems to haye
regal"c1ed all !Den as being what a })crson of truly elevated llloral
character would ha"e called base and contenlptible; but he did
not feel any such disapprobation or contempt for then1, because
he had no notion of anything better. He was a very good-
humoured man, and far from a misanthrope; and he would no
more be said to dislike or despise men for being nothing superior
to wl1at he thought them to he, than ,,-e would be said to despise
horses or dogs for being no more than brutes. He may be said,
therefore, to have thought very fayourably of mankind, as think-
ing most 11len to be as virtuous as any man need be, or could
be-and as doing nothing that he, or anyone, need be ashamed
of. And again, he may be said to haye thought verJT unfavour-

E
say xxxi.]

A lZ1Zotatioll
.

299

ably of nlankind inasnn:lCh as he had no notion at all of a
charactcr of exalted virtue, and regarded any indication of pure
and high principle as affectation and humbug, and always sus-
pcctcd cvery one of acting for buch ends, ana enlploying such
mcans, as a really high-minded nlan would reject with disdain.
Yet he was a very intelligent and acute man as far as regards
the lowcr parts of human nature. I-I is constant suspicion of
inferior motives and underhand proceeding arose from the 11Z01"al
twiligltt of his mind.
In reference to such suspicions as relate rather to things than
persons-the doubts which sometimes flutter about in the occa-
sional twilight of the nliud respecting the evidence for inlportant
and well-cstablished conclusions, I will take the liberty of extract-
ing SOlliC adu1Ïrahle passages from the Edinburgh Review for
January, 18-+7, on 'Thc Genius of Pascal' :-
, N eithcr has the understanding the absolute dominion in the
forlnation of our judgnlcnt3, nor does she occupy an 'unshaken
throne.' .A seditious rabble of doubts, from time to time, rise
to dispute her empire. Eyen where the mind., in its hahitual
state
, is unconscious of any renlaining doubt,-where it reposes
in a vast preponilcrance of c,-idence in fayour of this or that COll-
clusioll,-there nlay yet be, from one or other of the disturbing
causcs a(h-erted to., a nlomentary eclipse of that light in which
the soul seemed to dwell ;-a Illolnentary vibration of that judg-
Inellt which we so often flattered oursehyes was poised for ever.
Yet this no more argues the want of habitual faith than the
variations of the compass argue the severance of the connection
between the 111agnet and the pole; or, than the oscilla-
tions of tIle 'rocking stone' argue that the solid nlass can be
heaved from its bcd. .A child may shake, but a giant cannot
oycrturn it.
, ...\.lld, as a 1ïUdtel. of fact, there are, .we apprehend, very fc,,-
"ho ha,-e not been conscious of sudden and ahnost unaccountable
disturhances of the iutellectual atnlosphcre, unaccountable e,-en
aftcr the equilibriunl has been rcstored, and the ail' has again
become serene and tranquil. III these nlomentary fluctuations,
whether arising frolll Inoral or physical causes, or from causes of
both kinds-fronl ller,'ous depression, or a fit of melancholy, or
an attack of pain, or harassing anxieties, or the loss of friends,
or their misfortunes aud calanlÏties, or signal triuluphs of base-

3 00

OJ Suspicion.

[Essay xxxi.

ness, or signal discomfitures of virtue, or, aboye all, from con-
scious neglect of duty-a Ulan shall sometimes feel as if he had
lost sight even of those primal truths on which he has been accus-
tomed. to gaze as on the stars of the firnlarnent-bright, serene,
and unchangeable; even such truths as the existence of God,
his paternal governUlent of the .world, and the divine origin of
Christiani ty.
, In these moods, objections which he thought had long since
been dead and buried, start again into sudden existence. They
t10 III ore : like the escaped genius of the Arabian Nights, who
rises from the little bottle in ,vhich he had been inlprisoned, in
the shape of a thin srnoke, ,,'hich finally assumes glgantic out-
lines, and to,vers to the skies, these flilnsy objections dilate into
nlonstrous dimensions, and fill the whole sphere of mental vision.
rrhe argunlents by which ,ve haye been accustomed to combat
thern seem to have vanished, or, if they appear at all, look
diminished in force and vividness. If we may pursue the allu-
sion we have just made, we even ,vonder how such nlighty forms
should ever have been compressed into so narrow a space. Bunyan
tells us, that ,vhen his pilgrims, under the l)erturbation produced
by previous terrible visions, turned the perspective glass towards
the Celestial City froln the sunln1Ïts of the Delectable l\Ioun-
tains, their hands shook so that they could not ::;teadiIy look
through the instrument; yet they thought they sa,v something
like the gate, and also 'SOllIe of the glory of the place.' I t is
even so lrith n1any of the lJ100ds in which other 'pilgrinls'
attempt to gaze in the same direction; a deep haze seelns to
have settled over the golden pinnacles and tIle' gates of pearl :'
they, for a nloment, doubt ,vhether what others declare they
have seen, and what they flatter th0nlselycs they have seen them-
sel ves, be anything else than a gorgeous vision in the clouds;
and 'faith' is no lungeI' 'the substance of things hoped for/ and
the evidence of ' things not seen.'
, And as there are probably fe,v ,vho have profoundly investi-
gated the evidcnces of truth, who have not felt themselves for
a mOlnel1t at least, and sonletiules for a yet longer space, as if
on the verge of universal scepticisln, and about to be driven
forth, without star or compass, on a boundless ocean of doubt
and perplexity, so these states of feeling are peculiarly apt to

Essay xxxi.]

Annotations.

3 01

illfcst the highest order of minds. For if, on the one hand,
these can hc
t discern and estimate the evidence which proves
any truth, they, on the other, can see most clearly and feel
most strongly the nature and extent of the objections ,d1Ïch
oppose it; while they are, at the same time, just as liable as the
vulgar to the disturbing influences already adverted to. This
liability is of course doubled .when its subject, as in the case of
Pascal, labours under the disad,.alltage of a gloomy temperament.
'A circumstance which in these conflicts of mind often
gives SCl1Jtical objections an unùue advantage is, that the great
truths which it is more especially apt to assail are generally the
result of an accumulation of proof by induction, or are even
dependent on quite separate trains of argument. The mind,
therefore, cannot con1prehend them at a glance, and feel at
once their integrated forcc, but must exalnine them in detail hy
successive acts of mind,-just as we take the nleasurement of
magnitudes too vast to he seen at once in successive small
portion
. ".rhe existence of God, the nloral government of the
,,"orId, the divine origin of Christianity, are all truths of this
stamp. Pascal, in one of his Pensées, refers to this infirmity
of the logical faculties. He justly observes-' "
eo have a series
of !)roofs incessantly before the mind is beyond our power.'
D'cn avoil" toujours les preuves présentes, c'est trop d'affaire.
'}"rom the inability of the mind to retain in perpetuity, or
to comprehend at a glance a long chain of e\Tidence, or the
total effect of various lines of argument, Pascal truly observes
that it is not sufficient for the security of our convictions and
w J
their due influence oyer our belief and practice, that we have
proved them, once for all, by a process of reasoning :-they
must be, if possible, tincturcd and coloured by the Í1llagination,
inforn1ed and animated by fetling, and rendered ,rigorous and
practical by halJit. His words are ,veIl worth writing:-
'Reason acts slowly, and ,vith so many views upon so many
principles which it is necessary should be always present, that
it is perpetually dropping asleep, and is lost, for want of having
an its principles present to it. The afièctions do not act thu
:
they act instantaneously, and are always ready for action. It
is lleccssary, therefore, to imbue our faith with feeling; other-
wise it will be always vacillating.

3 02

Of Suspicion.

[Essay xxxi.

, It will not, of course, be ÏInagined that, in the observations
,ve haye now made, ,,-e are disposerl to be the apologists of
scepticism; or even, so far as it is yielded to, of that transient
doubt to ,vhich we affirln even the most l)Owerful minds are not
only liable, but liahle in defiance of what are ordinarily their
strong convictions. So far as such states of 111ind are inyolun-
tary (and for an instant they often are, till, in fact, the mind
collects itself, and repels them), they are of course the object,
not of blanlc, but of pity. So far as they are dependent upon
fluctuations of feeling, or upon physical causes ,,-hich "Te can at
all modify or control, it is our duty to sumnlon the n1Ïnd to
resist the assault, and reflect on the nature of that eyidence
,vhich has so often appeared to us little less than demon-
stratiye.
, 'Ve are not, then, the apologists of scepticism, or anything
approaching it; we are merely stating a psychological fact, for
the proof of ,vhich ,ve appeal to the recorded confessions of
many great minds, and to the experience of those who have
reflected deeply enough on any large and difficult subject to
kno-w what can be said for or against it.
, The asserted fact is, that habitual belief of the sincerest and
strongest character is sometimes checkered ,vith transient fits
of doubt and misgiving, and that even when there is no actual
disbelief-no, not for a moment; the mind nlay, in some of its
Inoods, form a very diminished estin1ate of the evidence on
,vhich belief is founded, and grievously understate it accord.
ingly. \Ve believe that both these states of mind were occa-
sionally experienced by Pascal-the latter, however, much more
frequently than the former; and hence, as 've apprehend, are
we to account for those l)assages in which he speaks of the evi-
dence for the existence of a God, or for the truth of Christianity,
as less conclusive than he ordinarily believed, or than he has at
other times declared them.
'At such times, the clouds may be supposed to have hung
lo,v upon this lofty mind.
'80 little inconsistent ,vith a habit of intelligent faith are
such transient invasions of doubt, or such dilninished percep-
tions of the evidence of truth, that it may even be said that it
is only those ,vho have in some measure experienced thenl, ,,-Ito

Essay xxxi.]

Allìlotatiolls.

3 0 3

can bc said, in the highest scnse, to bclieve at all. l lIe who
has ncvcr had a doubt, who bclieves what be believes for rca-
sons which he thinks as irrcfragable (if that be possible) as
those of a luathen1atical demonstration, ought not to be said so
luuch to believe as to knolO; his bclief is to hiu1 knowledge,
and his mind stands in the same relation to it, however errone-
ous and absurd that belief may be. It is rather he who believes
-not indced without the exercise of his reason, but with-
out the full satisfaction of his reason-with a knowledge and
appreciation of formidable objections-it is this man who may
D10st truly be said intclligently to believe.' (Pages 213-217).
"Yisc 111en assuredly consider it as a most Ünportant clement
in the cducation of thcir own children, not indeed that they
should be taught to believe 'what they are told without any
rcason (and if they ha,.e been properly trained, a just confidence
in the a
surances of their 8uperiors in knowledge will on lllany
sUbjcct8 be reason sufficient), yet, upon evidence far less than
dCIUollstration; indeed, upon cvidence far less than they will
be able to appreciate, when the lapse of a few brief years has
transformcd them from children into men. 'Y" e certainly ex-
pcct that they will believe many things as facts which as yet
thcy canllot fully comprehend-nay, which they tell us are, in
appearance, paradoxical; and to rest satisfied with the assurance,
that it is vain to attempt to explain the evidence until they get
older and wiser. "
e are accustomed even to augur the worst
rcsults as to the future course and conduct of a youth who has
not learned to e"'{ercise thus much of practical faith, and 'who

] The same thought is thus expressed in a short poem by Bp. Hinds:
'And the Apostles said unto the Lord, increase our faith.'-Luke xvii. 5.
, \Vhat! gazing 0n your Saviour's face,
And listening to his word,
Dared you to ask for further grace,
To credit all you heard?
, Yet so it is; belief springs still
In soils that nurture doubt;
And we must go to Him wllo will
The baneful weed cast out.
, Did npver thorns thy path beset?
Beware-he not deceived;
He who has never doubted yet,
Has never Jet believed.'

3 0 4

Of Suspicion.

[Essay x
xi.

flippantly, on the score of his not being ab1e to comprehend thenl,
rejects truths of ,,,hich he yet has greater evidence, though not
direct evidence, of their being truths, than he has of the con-
trary. Now,' if ,ve have had earthly fathers, and have given
them re'
erence,' after this fashion, and when we have becon1e
men have applauded our submission as appropriate to our con-
dition oÎ dependence, 'shall we not much rather be subject to
the Father of Spirits, and live?' If, then, the present be a
scene of moral education and discipline, it seems fit in itself
that the e,ridence of the truths .we believe should be checkered
,vith difficulties and liable to objections, not strong enough to
force assent, nor so obscure as to elude sincere investigation.
'God, according to the memorable aphorism of Pascal already
cited, has afforded sufficient light to those ,vhose object is to
see, and left sufficient obscurity to perplex those ,-rho have no
such ,,,ish. All that seems necessary or reasonable to expect is,
that as 'we are certainly not called upon to belie,-e anything
without reason, nor ,vithout a preponderance of reason, so the
evidence shall be such as our faculties are capable of dealing
'with; and that the objections shall be only such as equally
baffie us upon any other hypothesis, or are insoluble only because
they transcend altogether the lirnits of the human unrlerstand-
iug: which last circumstance can be no valid reason, apart from
other grounds, either for accepting or rejecting a given dogma.
, Now, we contend, that it is in this equitable 'way that God
has dealt with us as moral agents, in relation to all the great
truths which lie at the basis of religion and morals; and, we
may add, in relation to the divine origin of Christianity. The
evidence is all of such a nature as we are accustomed every
day to deal ,vith and to act upon; while the objections are
either such as reappear in eyery other theory, or turn on
difficulties absolutely beyond the linlÏts of the human faculties.'
(Pages 217-18.)

'It is much the san1e with the evidences of Christianity.
'Vhether a certain amount and complexity of testimony arc
likely to be false; ,,,hether it is likely that not one, but a
numbel
of men, would endure ignominy, persecution, and the
last extremities of torture) in support of an unprofitable lie;

Essay xxxi.]

Annotations.

3 0 5

,yhethcr such an original fiction as Christianity-if it be fiction-
i
likely to have beC'll the production of Galilean peasants; "hether
anything so sublime was to be expected froln fools, or anything
so holy fron1 knaves; whether illiterate fraud was likely to be
equal to such a ,vonderful fabrication; ,vhether infinite artifice
Ina)' be expected from ignorance, or a perfectly natural and suc-
cessful assumption of truth from imposture ;-these, and a mul-
titude of the like questions, are precisely of the same nature,
howe,-er they may be decided, ,vith those with which the his-
torian and the advocate, judges and courts of law, are every day
required to deal. On the other hand, whether miracles have
c,-er becn, or arc ever likC'ly to be, adn1Ítted in the adntÏnistra-
tion of the universe, is a question on which it would demand a
far more comprehen8i ve knowledge of that administration than ,ve
can possibly possess, to justify an à priori decision. That they
are possible, is all that is required; and that, no consistent theist
can deny. Other difficulties of Christianity, as Bishop Butler
has so clearly shown, baffle us on e".ery other hypothesis; they
n1eet U3 as nluch in the 'constitution of nature,' as in the
pages of reyelation; and cannot consistently be pleaded against
Christianity without being equally fatal to theism.
'There are two things, we will \?enture to say, at which the
philosophers of SOlne future age will stand equally astonished:
the one is, that any man should have been called upon to believe
any mystery, whether of philosophy or religion, 'without a prepon-
derance of evidence of a nature which he can gra
p, or on the
Inere ipse dixit of a fallible creature like himself; the other)
that where there is :such e\"idence, man should reject a mystery,
mcrely because it is one.
'This last, perhaps, will be regarded as the more astonishing
of the two. That
Ian--:-who lives in a dwelling of clay, and
looks out upon the illimitable uni,-erse through such tiny windows
-who stands, as Pascal 8ublin1ely says, between' two infinitudes'
-who is absolutely surrounded by mysteries, which he over.
looks, only because he is so familiar with then1,-should doubt
a proposition (otherwise well sustained) from its intrinsic diffi-
culty, does not seem very reasonable. But when we further
reflect that that very rnind w lich erects itself into a standard
of all things, is, of all things, the n10st ignorant of that which
it ought to know best-itself, and finds there the most inscrutable
x

3 06

Of Suspicion.

[Essay xxxi.

of aU mysteries,-when ,ve reflect that ,vhen asked to declare
what itself is, it is obliged to confess that it knows nothing about
the Dlattcr-nothing either of its own essence or its Inode of
operation,-that it :is sometimes :inclined to think itself Inaterinl,
and sometimes imnlatel'ial-that it cannot quite come to a con-
clusiou ,,-hethel' the body really existß, or is a phantom, or ill
what way (if the body really exists) the intimate union behveen
the two is Inaintained,-when "'e see it perplexed beyond expres-
Bion, even to conceive ho,v thcse phenomena can be reconciled
-proclaiming it to be an almost equal contradiction to suppose
that matter can think, or the soul be material, or a connec-
tion maintained between two totally different substances, and
yet admitting that one of these must be true, though it cannot
sati:
Jactorily determine ,vhich,-when 've reflect on all tbis,
surely ,ve cannot but feel tbat the spectacle of so ignorant a
Being refusing to believe a proposition, merely because it is
above its conlprehension, is, of aU paradoxes, the most paradox-
ical) and of all absurdities) the most ludicrous.' (Pages 219, 220.)

e Tllere iSt,notldng makes a
nan suspect much, more than to know
little; and, therefore, men should remedy suspicion hy pro-
curing to knovJ '1nore.'

This is equally true of the suspicions that have reference to
things as of persons. I extract a passage bearing upon this
point, froin the Cautions for the Times :-
, l\Iultitudes are haunted by the spectres, as it were, of vague
surmises and indefinite suspicions, which continue thus to haunt
them, just because they are vague and indefinite)-because the
mind has neyer ventured to look them boldly in the face, and
put them into a shape in which reason
an examine them.
eN 0''') would it not be all act of great charity towards such
persons to persuade theln to cast away their unreasonable
timidity, and scrutinize such objections, instead of trying to
banish them by force? For though, no doubt, sorne difficulties
and objections ,vill always relnain that cannot be directly cleared
up or answered, yet the vastly greatest nU1l1ber of seeming
objections and difficulties can be satisfactorily removed by care-
ful examination and increased knowledge; and the experience
of this 1vill lead us to be confident that, if we could propor-

Essay xxxi.]

Annotations.

3 0 7

tionatcly enlarge our faculties and acquirements (wllich is ,,-hat
,,'e n1ay hope for in a better world), the rest would vanish also.
And, in the meanwhile, it is of great importance to know exact1y
what they are, le5t our fancies should unduly magnify their
number aJld weight; and also in order to Inake us see that they
arc as nothing in comparison of the still greater difficulties on
the opposite side,-nalliply, the objections which we should have
to encountcr, if we rejected Chri5tianity.
, 'Yell, but,' it is said, 'though that course may be the best
for well-read and skilful Di\'ine$, it is better not to notice ohjec-
tions g.!nerally, for fear of alarming and unsettling the minds
of plain unlearned people, who had probably ne\'.er heard of
anything of the kind. Let then1 continue to read their Bible
without being disturbed hy any lloubts or suspicions that n1Ïght
make them uneasy.'
, X ow, if in some sea-chart for the use of mariners, the various
rocks and shoal
which a ve:;sel has to pass in a certain voyage,
,,-ere to be wholly omitted, and no notice taken of them, no doubt
many persons might happen to make the voyage safely, and with
a romfortable feeling of security, from not knowing at all of the
existence of auy such dangers. But suppose some one did strike
on one of these rocks, froln not knowing-though the lnakers of
the chart did-of its exi3tel1ce, and consequently perished in a
shipwreck which he n1Íght have been taught to avoid,-on whose
head would his blood lie?
, .L\nd again, if se\Teral voyagers came to suspect, from vague
rurnours, that rocks and shoals (perhaps more forn1Ïdable than
the real ones) did lie in their course, without any correct know-
ledge where they lay, or how to keep clear of them, then, so far
from enjoying freedom fronl apprehension, they would be exposed
to increased alarnl-and nluch of it needless alarnl,-without
being, after aU, preseryed from danger.
, And so it is in the present ca8e. ,r ague hints that learned
men ha,-e objected to such and such things, and have questioned
this or that, often act like an inward slow-corroding canker in
the Ininds of some who ha,'e neyer read or heard anything dis-
tinct on the subject; and who, for that ,'ery reason, are apt to
imagine these objections, &c., to be much more formidable than
they really are. For there are people of perverse mind, who,
rcally po
sessing hath learning and ingenuit
T, will employ these
x 2

3 08

Of Suspicion.

[Essay xxxi.

to dress up in a plausible form something which is, in truth, per-
fectly silly: and the degree to which this is sometimes done, is
what no one can easily conceive without actual experience and
examination.
'It is, therefore, often useful, in dealing even .with the un.
learned, to take notice of groundless and fanciful theories and
interpretations, contained in hooks which probably most of them
will never see, and which some of them perhaps will never even
hear of j because many persons are a good deal influenced by
reports, and obscure rumours, of the opinions of some supposed
learned man, without knowing distinctly what they are; and
are likely to be made uneasy and distrustful by being assured
that this or that has been disputed, and so and so maintained,
hy some person of superior know ledge and talents, who has pro-
ceeded on 'rational' grounds; when, perhaps, they themselves
are qualified by their own plain sense to perceive how i'r-rational
these fanciful notions are, and to form a right judgment on the
lllatters in question.
, Suppose you ,vere startled in a dark night by something that
looked like a spectre in a winding-sheet,-"would not he who
should bring a lantern, and sho,v you that it was nothing but a
white cloth hanging on a bush, give you far better encouragement
than he w ho m
rely exhorted you to 'look another way, keep
up your heart, ,vhistle, and pass on ?"

ESSAY XXXII. OF DISCOURSE.

S O
IE in their discourse desire ratl1er commendation of wit,
in being able to hold all arguments, than of judgment, ill
discerning what is true j as if it ,vere a praise to Inlow what
might be said, andl10t what should be thought. Some have
certain commonplaces and themes, "'herein they are good, and
"'ant variety; which kind of poverty is for the most part tedious,
a.nd, when it is once perceived, ridiculous. The honourablest
part of the talk is to give the occasion; and again to moderate
and pass to somewhat else, for then a man leads the dance.
It i:s good in discourse, and speech of conversation, to vary and
illtern1Ïngle speech of the present occasion with arguments,
tales with reasons, nsking of questions with telling of opinions,
and jcst with earncst; for it is a dull thing to tire, and as 'we
say now, to jade 1 anything too far. As for jest, there be certain
things which ought to be privileged from it-namely, religion,
matters of state, great persons, any man's present business of
importance, and any case that deserveth pity; yet there be
some that think their wits have been asleep, except they dart
out somewhat that is piquant, and to the quick-that is a vein
which would ùe bridled:-

, Parcc puer stimu1is, et fortius utere loris.' 2
And, generally, men oug"ht to find the difference between salt-
ness and bitterness. Certainly, he that hath a satirical vein,
as he maketh others afraid of his wit, so he had need be afraid
of others' memory. lIe that questioneth much shall learn
much, and content much, but especially if he apply his questions
to the skill of the persons wholn he asketh, for he shall gi,'e
them occasion to please themselves in speaking, and himself
shall continually gather kno\Vledge; but let his questions not
be troublesome, for that is fit for a poser;3 and let him be sure

1 Jade. To over-ride or drit-e.
'I do not now fool ll1)"self to let imagination jade me.'-Shalcespere.

'Boy, spare the spur, and more tightly hold the reins/-Ovid, Mr-t. ii. 12 7.

Po
cr. Examiner. (From pose, to interrogate closely.) 'She posed him,
and sifted him tu try whether he were the 'Vcr.)" Duke of York or not.'-Bacon's
IIenrg rII.

3 10

Of Discourse.

[Essay xxxii.

to leave other men their turns to speak-nay, if there he any
that "rould reign and take up all the tirne, let him find means
to take them off, and brillg others on, as musicians use to do
with those that dance too long galliards. 1 If you dissemble
son1etimes your know ledge of that:! you are thought to know,

'ou shall be thought, another time, to know that you know not.
Speech of a man's self ought to be seldom, and well chosen.
I klle,v one was ,vont to say in scorn, 'He must needs be a
wise man, he speaks so much of bin1Belf,' -and there is but one
case wherein a n1all may conlmend hin1self with a gooù grace,
and that ris in commending virtue in another, especially if it be
such a virtue ".hereunto himself pretendeth. 3 Speech of touch 4
towards others should he sparingly used; for discourse ought
to be as a field, ,vithout coming home to any man. I knew
two noblemen, of the .west part of England, ,vhereof the one
,vas given to scoff, but kept ever rO)Tal cheer in his house; the
other .would ask of those that had been at the other's table,
, Tell truly, was there never a flout ã or dry blow given?' To
,,'hich the guest would answer, , Such and such a thing passed.'
1'he lord would say, , I thought he ,vould mar a good dinner.'
Di:5cretion of
peech is more than eloquence; and to speak
agreeably to him \lith whom we deal, is more than to speak in
good words, or in good order. A good continued speech,
without a good speech of interlocution, shows slowness j aud a
good reply, or second speech, without a good settled speech,
showeth shallo,,-ness and weakness. As we see in beasts, that
those that are weakest in the course, are yet nimblest in the

1 Galliard. A sprightlg dance.
, Gay galliards here my Jove shall dance,
'Vhilst I my foes goe fighte.'-Fair Rosamond.
"Vhat is thy excellence in a galliard, Knight P'-Shakespere.
2 That. Wlwt; that which. See page 59.
3 Pretend to. Lay claim to. 'Those countries that pretend to freeùom.'-
Su'ijt.
4 Touch. Partic'ular application. ' Dr. Parker, in his sermon before them,
touched them fùr their being so near that they went near to touch him for his
life.' - Hayward.
ó Flout. Jeer; taunt; gibe.
, These doors are barred against a bitter .flout;
Snarl if you please j but JOU shan snarl witbout.'-.Dr!lden.
'.Full of comparisons and wound.ingflouts.'-Shakespe're.

Essay xxxii.]

Annotations.

3 I J

turn; as it is betwi"\.t the grcyhound and the hare. To use
too Inany circumstances l ere 2 one corne to the matter, is weari-
SOlne; to u:se none at all, is blunt.

ANNOT.A.TIONS.

Among the many just and adlnirable relnarks in this essay
on ' Discourse,' Bacon does not notice the distinction-which is
an important one-between those who speak because they wish
to suy
(jJ/tet1tiJl!J, and tho
e who speak because they have SOlite-
thing to say: that is, between thos
who are aiming at displaying
their own knowledge or ability, and those who speak from ful-
ness of matter, and are thinking only of the matter, and not of
thcmsel yes and the opinion that will be formed of them. This
latter, Bishop Butler caBs (in reference to writings) 'a man's
writing with ::-;in1plicity, and in earnest.' It is curious to observe
how luuch more agreeable is even inferior conversation of this
latter description, anù how it is preferred by many,-tlley know
not why-\\ ho are not accustonled to analyse their own feelings,
or to inquire why they like or dislike.
Something nearly coinciding with the above distinction, is that
which some draw betwecn an 'unconscious' and a 'conscious'
manner; only that the latter extellds to persons who are not
courting applause, but anxiously guarding against censure. By
a 'conscious' nlanller is meant, in short, a continual thought
about oneself, and about what the company will think of us.
The coutillual effort and" atchful care on the part of the
speaker, either to obtain approbation, or at least to avoid
di:savpl'obatiol1, always cOlllmUllicates itself in a certaill degree J
to the hearers.
Some draw a distinction, agail1, akin to the above, between
the desire to plt:(lse, and the desire to give pleasure; meaning by

1 Circumstances.
-on-essential particulars; adjuncts.
, This peroration, with such circumstall,ce.' -Shakespere.
2 Ere. Before. 'The nobleman said unto bill, Sir, come down ere my child
ùip.'-Jolu" iv. 49.

3 12

Of Discourse.

[Essay xxxii.

the former an anxiety to obtain for )Tourself t1le good opinion
of those you converse with, and by the other, the wish to gratify
them.
Aristotle, again, dra ,vs the distinction bet,vcen the Eiron and
the Bomolochus,-that the former seems to throw out his wit
for his own amusement, and the other for that of the company.
It is this latter, howeyer, that is really the' conscious' speaker;
because he is evidently seeking to obtain credit as a 'wit by his
diversion of the company. 'rhe word seems nearly to answer
to what \ve call a "wag.' The other is letting out his good
things merely from his own fulness.
When that which has been called' consciousness' is combined
with great tilllirlity, it constitutes 'what we call 'shyness;' a
thing disagreeable to others, and a most intense torture to the
subject of it.
There are many (otherwise) sensible people w110 seek to cure
a young person of that very common complaint, hy exhorting
him not to be shy,-telling him ,vhat an awkward appearance
it has,-and that it prevents his doing himself justice, &c.
All which is manifestly poul'ing oil on the fire to quench it.
For the very cause of shyness is an over-anxiety as to what
people are thinking of you; a morbid attention to )Tour o,vn
appearance. The course, therefore, that ought to be pursued
is exactly the reverse. The sufferer should be exhorted to
think as little as possible about hin1self, and the opinion formed
of him,-to be assured that most of the company do not
trouble their heads about him,-and to harden him against any
impertinent criticisms that be supposed to be going on,-taking
care only to do what is right, leaving others to think and say
'v hat th ey "Till.
And the more intensely occupicd anyone is with the suhject-
D1atter of what he is saying-the business itself that he is
engaged in,-the less will his thoughts be turned on himself,
and on what others think of him.
A. was, as a youth, most distressingly bashful. "Then he was
in Orders, he ,vas staying at a friend's house, where there ,,-as
also another clergyman, who ,vas to preach, and '1'ho remarked
to him how nervous he always felt in preaching in a strange
church,-asking whether the other did not feel the sanle. Per-
haps he expected to be complimented on his modesty; but .A..

I
,
f
!
!

Essay xxxii.]

Annotations.

3 1 3

rcplied, 'I IlCyer allow myself to feel nervous in preaching;
I dare Bot be thinking of myself, and of the opinion formed of me,
whcll I have such a momentous ,york in hand, as my 1.Iaster's
cause, and for the salvation of souls.' The other, a little taken
by surprise, admitted that this was what a christian minister
ought to be occupied with; 'but,' said he, (he may he allowed J
surely, to feel doubts as to his own qualification for so high and
important an office.' 'True,' replied A., 'but the proper time
for such doubts is before he takes Orders; after that, he should
be thinking only of the work itself, and of striving to beconle
more and Inore qualified for it.'
As for the greater degree of nervousness (bashfulness) felt in
addressing a large assembly than a few, I beg leave to extract
a l)assage from my Elements of Rhetoric, in which I have endea-
voured to account for this remarkable phenomenon. For,
surely it lllust be considered as such, that a person who is able
with facility to expre8
his sentÏlnents in pri,-ate to a friend, in
such language, and in such a manner, as 'would be perfectly
suitable to a certain audience, yet finds it extremely difficult to
address to that audience the very same words, in the same
manner, and is, in many instances, either completely struck
dumb, or greatly embarrassed when he attempts it. ' l\Iost
persons are so fanliliar with the fact, as hardly to have ever
considered that it requires explanation: but attentive con-
sideration shows it to be a very curious, as well as important
one; and of which no explanation, as far as I know, has been
attempted. It cannot be from any superior defercnce which
the speaker thinks it right to feel for the judgment of the hearers;
for it will often happen that the single friend, to whom he is
able to speak fluently, shall be one whose good opinion he more
values, and whose wisdom he is more disposed to look up to,
than that of all the others together. The speaker may even feel
that he himself has a decided ana acknowledged superiority
0' er everyone of the auc1ienc
; and that he should not be the
lcast ahashed in addressing any two or three of them, separately;
)Tct, still, all of them, collectively, 'will often inspire him with a
kind of dread.
, Closely allied in its causes with the phenomenon I am con-
sidering, is that other curious fact, that the very same senti-
lllCllÌs, expressed in the same manner, will often have a far Il10rC

3 1 4

Of Discourse.

[Essay xxxii.

powerful effect on a large audience than they,yould have on any
one or two of these very persons, separately. That is in a great
degloee true of all men, which was said of the Athenians, that
they were like sheep, of which a flock is more easily dl'i ven than
a single one.
, Another remarkable circumstance, connected ,vith the fore-
going, is the difference in respect of the style which is suitable,
respectively, in addressing a multitude, and two or three even
of the same persons. A much bolder, as \yell as less accurate,
kind of language is both allowable and advisable, in speaking to
a considerahle number; as Aristotle has l
emarked/ in speaking
of the Graphic and Agonistic sty les,-the former, suited to the
closet, the latter, to public speaking before a large assembly.
And he ingeniously compares them to the different styles of
painting: the greater the crowd, he says, the more distant is
the view; so that in scenc- painting, for instance, coarser and
bolder touches are required, and the nice finish, which ,yould
delight a close spectator, ,,'ould be lost. lIe does not, however,
account for the phenomena in question.
, The solution of them win be found by attention to a very
curious and coml)lex l)lay of sympathies which tal{es place in a
large assembly; and (within certain lin1Ïts), the more, in pro-
portion to its numbers. :First, it is to be observed that 'we are
disposed to syn1pathize with any emotion which we believe to
exist in the mind of anyone present; and hence, if ,ye are at
the same time otherwise disposed to feel that emotion, such
disposition is in consequence heightened. In the next place,
,,'e not only ourselves feel this tendency, but ,ve are sensible
that others do the same; and thus, we syn1pathize not only
with the other en10tions of the rest, but also with their synlpathy
towards us. Any en1otion, accordingly, which ,ve feel, is still
further heightened by the kuowledge that there are others
present who not on1y feel the same, but feel it the nlore strongly
in consequence of their sympathy with ourseh'es. Lastly, \T'e
are sensible that those around us sympathize not only with
oursel \"es, but with each other also; and as we enter into this
heightened feeling of theirs likewi
e, the stimulus to our own
minds is thereby still further increased.

1 Rlteto'l'ic, Book iü.

E
say xxxii.]

Annotations.

3]5

Thc casc of the Ludicrous affords t11e most obvious illußtra-
tion of thc:;c principles, froln the circumstance that the effects
pl'oduccd are so open and palpahle. If anything of this nature
occur
, you are disposed, by the character of the thing itself, to
laugh: but nluch more, if anyone else is known to he present
,\ horn you think likely to be di ,'erted with it; even though that
other should not kno,v of your presence; but much more still,
if he does know it; because you are then aware that sympathy
with your enlotion heightens his: and most of all "ill the dis-
position to laugh he increased, if many are present; because each
is then aware that they all synlpathize with each other, as well
as with himself. It is hardly necessary to mention the exact
correspondence of the fact "rith the above explanation. So
Î1nportaut, in this case, is the opcration of the causes hCl'e
noticed, that hardly anyone ever laughs when be is quite alone;
or if he does, he will find on consideration, that it is from a
conception uf the presence of some con1pallion ",hon1 he thinks
likely to have becn arnused, had he been present, and to whom
he thillk
of de3cribing, or repeating, what had diverted himself.
Indeed, in other cases, as wcll as the one just instanced, almost
everyone is aware of the infectious nature of any emotion
excited in a large assembly. It nlay be compared to the
increase of sound by a number of echoes, or of light, by a
number of mirrors; or to the blaze of a heap of firebrands,
each of which would speediJy have gone out if kindled sepa-
rately, but which, ,,11en thrown together, help to kindle each
other.
The application of what has been said to the case before us
is sufficiently oùvious. In addressing a large assen1hly, you
know that each of thenl sympathizes both with your own anxiety
to acquit yourself well, and also with the same feeling in the
n1Íllds of the rest. You know also, that e,.ery slip )TOU nlay be
guilty of, that may tend to excite ridicule, pity, disgust, &c.,
Inakes the stronger impression on each of the hearers, frolll their
mutual sympathy, and their consciousness of it. This augments
your all
iety. N ext, you know that each hearer, putting hÜllself
nleutall)T in the speaker's place/ sympathizes with this aug-

1 Hence it is that shy persons are, as is matter of common remark, the more
distressed by this infirmity wben in compan,y with those who are subjt:ct to the
Ull1C.

3 16

Of Discourse.

[Essay xxxii.

mented anxiety: which is by this thought increased still further.
And if you become at all embarrassed, the knowledge that there
are so many to sympathize, not only 'with that embarrassment,
but also 'with each other's feelings on the perception of it,
heightens your confusion to the utmost.
'The same causes '\till account for a skilful orator's being
able to rouse so much more easily, and more powerfully, the
passions of a multitude: they inflame each other by mutual
sympathy,. and mutual consciousness of it. And hence it is
that a bolder kind of language is suitable to such an audience;
a passage .which, in the closet, might, just at the first glance,
tend to excite a,ve, com11assion, indignation, or any other such .
emotion, but which would on a moment's cool reflection, appear
extravagant, may be very suitable for the Agonistic style;
because, before that moment's reflection could take place in each
hearer's mind, he would be aware that eyery one around him
sympathized in that first emotion, which .would thus become so
much heightened as to preclude, in a great degree, the ingress
of any counteracting sentiment.
'If one could suppose such a case as that of a speaker
(himself aware of the circumstance), addressing a multitude,
each of whom believed himself to be the sole hearer, it is pro..
bable that little or no embarrassment ,,
ould be felt, and a much
more sober, calm, and finished style of language 'would be
adoIJted.'
There are two kinds of orators, the distinction between
whom might be thus illustrated. 'Yhen the moon shines brightly
.we are apt to say, (How beautiful is this 'Jnoon-ligllt l' but in
the day-time, (How beautiful are the trees, the fields, the
mountains l' -and, in short, all the objects that are illuminated;
'we never speak of the sun that makes them so. Just in the
same way, the really greatest orator shines like the sun, making
you think much of the things he is speaking of; the secolld-
lJest shines like the moon, making you think rpuch of hÏJn and
his eloquence.

I
I
I
I
,
I
,

Essay xxxii.]

Annotations.

3 1 7

, To use too '/Jlany cirCllìnstances) ere you con
e to the 1Jnatter, is
wearisorne. '

Bacon might have noticed some who never 'colue to the
Inattcr.' Ho\v many a meandering discourse one hears, ill
which the speaker aims at nothing, and-hits it.

, If YOZl disseJì
ble sometilJle,
your knowledge of that you are
thought to know, you shall be t/toug/tt, anotller tiJJle, to knolv
that you know not.'
This suggestion might have come In among the tricks enu-
1ncrated in the essay on ' Cunning.'

ESSAY XXXIII. OF PLANTATIONS.l

P LANTATIONS are alnongst ancient, primitive, and heroical
works. 'Vhen the world .was young it begat more chil-
dren, but now it is old, it begets fewer; for I may justly account
new plantations to be the children of former kingdoms. I like a
plantation in a pure soil, that is, ,vhere people are not dis-
planted 2 to the end to plant in others; for else it is rather an
extirpation than a l)lantation. Planting of countrics is like
planting of 'woods; for you must make account to lose almost
twenty years' profit, and expect your recompense in the end;
for the principal thing that hath been the destruction of most
plantations, hath been the base and hasty dra\ying of profit in
the first years. It is true, speedy profit is not to be neglected)
as far as it may stand 3 ,,'ith the good of the plantation, but no
farther.
It is a shameful and unblessed thing to take the scum of
people and .wicked condemned men, to be the people ,,-ith
whom you plant; and not only so, but it 8poilcth the planta-
tion; for they win ever liye like rogues, and not fall to work,
but be lazy, and do mischief, and spend victuals, and be quickly
weary, and then certify over to their country to thc discredit of
the plantation. The people wherewith you plant ought to be
gardeners, plonghmen, labourers, smiths, carpenter
, joiners,
fishermen, fowlers, with some few apothecaries, surgeons, cooks,
and bakers. In a country of plantation, first look about what
kind of victual the country yields of itself to hand; as ches-
nuts, ,valnuts, pine-apples, olives, dates, plun1s, cherries, ,vild
honey, and the like, and make use of them. Then consider
what victual or esculent things there are, ,vhich grow speedi1y,
and within the year; as parsnips, carrots, turnips, onions, ra-

1 Plantations. Colonies. f Towns here are few, either of Ute old or new
plantat.ions.' - Heylin.
2 Displant. 'Those French pirates that displanted us.'-Beaumonf and Fletcne'1'.
3 Stand. To be consistent 'with. ' His faithful people, whatsoever they rightly
ask, they shall receive, as far as may stand with the glory of God amI their OW11
everlasting good.'-I-Iooker.

E:ssay x'{xiii.J

Of Plantations.

3 1 9

dish artichokes of J erusalem/ nlaize, and the like: for wheat,
,
barley, and oats, they ask too much labour; but with peas and
beans you 111ay begin, both because they ask less labour, and
because they scrve for nleat as ,veIl as for bread; and of rice
likewi:sc eOlneth a great inerea
e, and it is a kind of meat.
Above all, there ought to be brought store of biscuit, oatmeal,
flour, Ineal, and the like, in the beginning, till bread may bc
had. For beasts or bird
, take chiefly such as are least subject
to diseases, and multiply fastest: as swine, goats, cocks, hells,
turkeys, geese, house-do\?es, and thc like. The victual in plan-
tations ought to be expended almost as in a besieged town, that
is, with certain allowance; and let the main part of the ground
employed t0 2 gardens or corn he to
a common stock, and to
bc laid in, and stored up, and then delivered out in proportion;
besides some spots of ground that any particular person will
nlaUtll'e for his own private. 4 Consider likewise, what commo-
ditiea the :soil where the plantation is doth naturally yield, that
they lll3.Y SOlne way help to defray the charge of the plantation;
so it be not, as w'as said, to the untimely prejudice of the
main business, as it hath fared .with tobacco in Virginia.
'Yood COnl1110nly aboulldeth hut too much, and therefore timber
is fit to be one. If there be iron are, and streams whereupon
to set the mills, iron is a brave 5 commodity where ,yood
abonndeth. :\Iaki ng of bay salt, if the clilnate be propel' for
it, would be put in experienee;6 growing silk likewise, if any
be, is a likely cOlnmodity; pitch and tar, ".here store of firs
and pines are, will not fail; so drugs and sweet woods, where
they are, cannot but yield great profit; soap ashes likewise, and

I Artichokes of .Jerusalem. A. well-known culinary plant, originally' of' Brazil:
the name .Jerusalem being merely a corruption of the Italian Girasole-that is,
Sun-flower, or 'I'urn-sole.
2 To. In. 'f'till a greater difficulty upon translators rises from the peculiarities
every language has to itself/-Felton.
3 To. For. See page 2 I 7. ' The proper business of the understanding is not
that whi('h men alw:tys employ it to.'-Loclce.
4 Private. Particular use or benefit; private object.
, X or mu:;;t I be unmindful of my pl"ivate,
POI' which I have called my brother and the tribunes,

ly kinsfolk, and my clients, to be near me.'-Ben Jonson.
5 Brave. EJ'cellent; fine.
, A brave attendance.' -Sltakespere.
6 Expericllce. Experi/llent; t/'ial. ' As curious experie-nces did affirlll.'-Ra,y.

3 20

Of Plantations.

[Essay xxxiii.

other things that may be thought of; but moil} not too much
under ground, for the hope of n1Ïnes is very uncertain, and
useth to make the planters lazy in other things. }""'or govern-
ment, let it be in the hands of one, assi:sted with sonle counsel,
and let them have commission to exercise martial la,vs, with
some lin1Ìtation. And, above all, let nlen make that profit of
being in the ,,'ilderness, as 2 they have. God always, and his
service before their eyes. Let not the government of the planta-
tion depend upon too ulany counsellors and undertakers 3 in the
country that planteth, but upon a temperate number; and let
those be rather noblemen and gentlemen, than merchants; for
they look ever to the present gain. Let there be freedoms from .
custom, till the plantation be of strength, and not only freeùom
from custom, but freedom to carry their commodities where they
may make their best of theJl1, except 4 there be some special
cause of caution. Cram not in people, by sending too fast,
company after company, but rather hearken 5 ho,v they ,,'aste,
and send supplies proportionably; but so as the number may
Jive well in the plantation, and not by surcllarge be in penury.
It hath been a great endangering to the health of some planta-
tions, that they have built along the sea and rivers, in marish 6
and unwholesome grounds; therefore, though you begin there,
to a ,"oid carriage and other like discommodities/ yet build still
rather upwards from the stream, than along. It concerneth
likewise the health of the plantation that they have good store
of salt ,,'ith thetn, that they mar use it in their victuals when
it shall be necessary.

1 l\loil. To toil; to drudge.
, Now he must moil and drudge for one he loathes.' - Dr!fdell.
2 As. That. See page 22.
3 Undertakers. Managers of affairs.
'Nay, if you be an undertaker, I mn for you.'-Shakespere.
-(Now confined to the managers of funerals.)
4 Except. Unless. See page 248.

Hearken. 1Vatck; observe.
'They do me too much injury
That ever 8aid I llÆarkened for your death.' - Skakespere.
, I mount the terrass, thence the town survey,
And hearken what the fruitful sounds convey.'-Dryden.
I) 1\larish. Marshy; swampy. C The fen and quagmire, so marisll, by kind, are
to be drained.' - Tusser.
1 Discommodities. Inconveniences. C \Ye stand balancing the discommodilies of
two corrupt disciplines.'-Milton. I
I
I
I
I
,

Essay xxxiii.]

Annotations.

3 21

If yon plant where savages are, do not only entertain them
with triflcs and gingles, but U3e thcln justly and graciously, ,rith
sufficient guard, nevertheless; and do not win their favolIT by
helping thern to invade their enernies, but for their defence, it
is not alniss; and send oft l of them oyer to thc country that
l)lants, that they lnay see a better condition than their own,
and eomnlelHl it when they return.
'Yhen the plantation gro,vs to strength, then it is time to
l)lant with women as well as with men, that the plantation may
spread into generations, aud not be ever pieced fì'om without.
It is the sinfullest thino- in the world to forsake or destitute 2 a
o
plantation once in forwardness; for, bcsides the dishonour, it is
the guiltincss of blood of 11lany cOlnmiserable 3 persons.

ANN"OT A'"frO:XS.

C It is (f shameflil and unblessed tiling to take the SCUJn of people,
and 'lcicked condel1lned /lien, to be the people 'lvith wholn you
plant.'
Yet two-and-a-Ilalf centuries after Bacon's time, the English
gOyernnlcnt, in opposition to the rcmonstrances of the en-
lightened and mo
t emphatically experieuced philanthropist-
IIoward,-established its penal colonies in ....-\.ustralia, and thus,
in the language of Shakespere, 'began an impudent nation.'
It is now above a quartcr of a century since I began pointing
out to the puhlic the manifold n1Ïschicfs of such a system; and
with Bacon and IIo,,-ard on Iny side, I perseyered in braving
all the obloquy and ridicule that were heaped on lne. But
succ('f'f'ivc ministries, of the most opposite folitical parties,
agrced in supporting" hat the J110st en1Íllent political econonllst
of the prcsent day had described as' a system beg"un in defiance
of all reason, and perse,-ered in in defiance of all experience.'

lOft. Often (chicfly used in poetry).
, Oft she rejects, but never once offemls.'-Pope.
2 Destitute. To leave destitute. 'Suppose God thus destitute us, yet oyer.
anxiety, or solicitude, or using of unlawful ll1eLm
, C,lll neycr be able to secure us.'
-Hammond.
a Commiscrable. Wodny qf compassion. 'This commiserable person, Edward.'
-Bacon's lIenry rII.

3 '..,
-

Of Plantations.

[Essay xxxiii

, And not only so, but it spoilet/t the plantation.'

Bacon has Hot pointed out one particular disadyantage of
this 1110de of colonization. The emancipists, as they are called
-those "ho ha,-e come out as convicts.,-nre described, and
that by 80lne a(h-ocates of the systelll, as for the most part idle,
unthrifty settlers; and the currency, those born in the colony,
are represented as generally preft:rriJtg a seafaring life; hal'ing
the odious associations of crime a/ld sla
'ery connected u.ith agri-
cultural pursllits,-a feeling perfectly natural under such cir-
Clllnstance
, but the ,-ery last one ,,-e would wish to find in a
colony. One of the results-not, I apprehend, originally con-
templated when penal colonies were established in X ew South
,r ales by the Euglish goyernnlent,-is that these' wicked con.
denlned men' baye planted for themseh-es seyeral yolunteer-
colonies; escaping in sJuall craft either to the South Sea I
lands
(in many of ,,-hich, for a good while past, each natiye chief has
for a priule-milJister sonìe choice graduate of the uni\"ersity of
X ewgate), or, more frequently, to some part of the coast of
X e,y [folland. Thus the land is certainly planted, but it is
planted with the .worst of weeds, according to tbe iugellious
experiment suggested, in the Teulpest, for Prospero's island :-
( Gon:alo. Had I plantation of this i5
e7 my lord . . . .
.Åntcmio. He 7 d sow it with nettle seed/

This 'Was one of the arguments put for"ard by llle, in the
hope of a",akeuing the public mind to the real character and
e'\.tent of the eyil, in a l)anlph1et in the form of a letter
addre

ed to Earl Grey, froln which I give SOine extracts.
{ The defenders of the systenl generally keep out of sight the
inconsistency of professing to aim at the mutual benefit of the
mother country and the colonies, on a plan "hich sets the two
in direct opposition; and present, separately and alternately,
the supposed adyantage of 'getting riel' (as it is called) of
criminals, and that of encouraging a growing colony, so as to
,yithùralf the attention from the real incompatibilit
y of the
two.
, In other subjects, as well as in this, I haye obser'-ed that
t
o distinct objects may, by beiug dexterously presented, again
and again in quick succession, to the mind of a cursory reader,

E;;,ay xxxiii.]

Annotations.

3 2 3

he so a:,
ociated togcther in his tltollgllis, as to be conceived
capablc, whell in fact thcy are not, of being actually combined
in practice. The fallacious belief thus induced bears a striking
rcsemblance to the optical illusion effected by that ingenious
and philosophical toy called the 'thaumatrope;' in which two
objects painted on oppo:5ite sides of a card,-for ill:5tance, a luan,
and a horse,-a bird, and a cage,-are by a quick rotatory
lnotion, made to inlpress the eye ill combination,
o as to form
one picture, of the man on the horse's back,-the hiI'd in the
cage, &c. .As soon as the card is allowed to relnain at rest, tbe
figures, of coursc, appear as they real1y are, separate and on
opposite sides.
\. mental illusion closely analogous to this is
11roùuced, when, by a rapid ancl repeated transition from one

uhjcct to another, altcrnately, the nlind is deluded into an idea
of the actual cOlubination of things that are really incompatible.
The chicf part of the defence which various "Titers have advanced
in fa\"our of the system of penal colonies consi:5ts, in truth, of a
sort of intellectual thauluatrope. The prosperity of the colony,
anù the reprè8sion of crime are, by a sort of rapid whirl, pre-
scnted to the 1nind as combilled in one picture. .A. very
1noderate degree of caIrn and fixeù attention soon shows that
the two objecta are painted on opposite sides of the card.
, In aid of this and the other modes of defence resorted to, a
topic is introduced froln time to tinle in \-arious forms, which is
cqually calculated to ll1eet all objections whate\-er on all subjects:
-that no hUlllan systelll can be expected to be perfect; that
SOlllC partial inCOllyenience in one part or in another must be
looked for; and that no plan can be so 'well de\"iscd as not to
require vigilant anù judicious superintendence, to keep it in
effectual operation, and to guard against the abuses to which it
is liahle, &c. &c.
, _\.ll this is yery true, but does not in reality at all meet the
present objections. Though we c

nnot build a house "hich
shall ncyer need repair, we may a \-oid such a misconstruction
as shall caU3e it to fall down by its 0" n weight. Thougb it be
ilnpo
sible to construct a time-piece which shall need no "illd-
iug up, aud which
hall go with perfect exactitude, we may
guard against the error of Inaking the" heels necessarily obstruct
each other's lllotions. _\.nd though a plan of penal legislation,
,,!tieh shall unite all concei\'able ach-antages and be liable to no
y 2

3 2 4

Of Plantations.

[Essay xxxiii.

abuses, be unattainable, it is at least something gained if ,ve do
but keep clcar of a systeul ,vhich by its very constitution shaH
have a constant and 'radically inherent tendency to (llfeat ou)

principal object.

, For, let anyone but calmly reflect for a fe,v moments on
the po
ition of a goyernor of one of our penal colonies, ,vho lu:.s
tbe 11roblem proposed to him of aCcOml)1ishing two distinct and
in reality illcon
istent ohjects: to legislate and goyern in the
best manner with a yie,v to- I st, the prosperity of the colony,
and also, 2udly, the suitable punish17zellt of the convicts. It is
,yell known that slave labour is the least profitable; anù can
seldonl be made profitable at all, but by the most careful,
difficult, trouhlesome, anù odious superintendence. The Dl0st
obyious way, therefore, of making the labour of the convicts as
adrantageons as possible to the colony, is to make them as
unlike slaves as possible,-to place thenl under such regulations
and with such masters, as to ensure their obtaining not only
alnple supplies both of necessaries and conlforts, but in all respects
favourable and e\ren indulgent treatment; in short, to put them
as much as possible in the comfortable situation 'which free
labourers enjoy, ,,,here labour is so valuable, as frolll the abun-
dance of land, and the scarcity of hands, it must be, in a nezv
settleulent.
, And the masters themselves may be expected, for the most
part) to perceive that thcir own intcrest (which is the only con-
sideration they are expected to attend to) lies in the same
directioll. F]'hey ,,'ill derive most profit from their servants, by
keeping thcm as much as possible in a cheerful and contcnted
state, eyen at the expense of conni\Tance at nlany vices, and of
so much iudulgence as it ".ould not, in this country, be ".orth
any l1laster's while to grant, .when he might turn away an
indifferent servant and hire another. The master of the convict-
servants ,yonld indeed be glad, for llis o"rn profit, to exact from
theln the utmost reasonable amount of labour, and to 11laiutaill
them in a style of frugality equal to, or even beyond that of a
labourer in England: but he ,,-ill be sure to find that the attenlpt
to accotnplish this would defeat his own object; and he will be
satisfied to realize such profit as is within reach. He ,vill find

I
j
,
I
I
,

E
sa y xxxiii.]

Annotations.

3 '-
-:J

that a labourcr who does much lcss work than woulù be requisite,
here, to earn the scantie:st sub5i::;tence, and who yet is incom-
parably bettcr feù than the best English labourf'r, does yet (on
account of the great value of labour) bring a considerable profit
to his 11laster; though to enlploy such a labourer on such terms,
would, in England, be a loss instead of a profit. It answers to
hit11, thereforc, to acquiesce in anything short of the nlost gross
idlellc
s and extravagance, for the sake of keeping his sla
'e (for
after all it is lJcst to call things by their true names) in tolerably
good hunloul', rather than resort to the troublesonle cxpediellt
of coercion, 1 which n1Ïght be attended "ith risk to his person or
property from an ill-disposed character, and at any rate would
be likely to 111akc such a seryant sulky, per\?erse, and wilfully
neglectful.
C It may easily be conceh'cd, thercfore, what indulgent treat-
ment most of the cOfiyicts are likely to reeei,.e J even fronl the
nlore respcctable class of scttlers. As for the large proportion,
,\ ho are thctll
el ,-cs vcry little different in character, tastes, and
habits, fl'om their convict-ser,-allts, they may be expected usually
to li,-e (as the tl'a\-ellc
's who have describcd the colony assure
us they do) on tcrms of almost perfect equality with them,
associating with thcln as ùoOn-C0111palliolls. But, to say nothing
of the:5c, the nlore respcctable settlers "ill be led, by a regard
for thcir own interest, to what is called the Inllnanc treatnlent
of thcir servants; that is, to endeavour to place all those in their
c111ploy ,rho arc not Uluclt lVOì'Se than such as, in this country,
fcw would think it worth "hile to en1 ploy at all, ill a bctter
situation than the nlost industrious labourcrs in England.
( K ow, it is evident that the yery reverse of this procedure is
suitable for a húuse of cOlTec!ion,-a place of pllJlisll1ìlent. And
it is no less e\ idcnt that a gO\ erllor nlust be led both hy his
feelings,-by his regard for his own case,-anJ by his wish for
popularity with all ùescl'iptioll& of persons around him, as "'Well
as b) his regard for the prosperity of the colony, to sacrifice to

1 'To gÏY.c somc idea of the serious loss of time, as \\ ell as of the great trouble
caused b) being far rcmoved from a magistrate alone, I neeù only state, that when
a cOllvict-
ervant misl:onducts llirnself, the settler must either sEnd the vagabollù to
tIle nearest magistrate, not improLabl)- some iltiriy or fody mil
s di
tant, or he
must overlook thc oflcnce.' -Excursions iJ
l!t
l'lV Súuih ]I-ales, Ly Lieutenant
breton.

3 26

Of Plantations.

[Essay xxxiii.

that object the Pl'imary and most important one,-of Inaking
transportation, properly, a pena1ty. 'Ye can seldoln expect to
find a gO\Ternor (much less a succession of governors) willing,
,vhen the choice is proposed of two objects at variance ,rith each
other, to prefer the situation of keeper of a house of correction
to that of a governor of a flourishing colony. The utmost we
can expect is to find no"r and then one, crippling the measures
of his predecessors and of his successors, by such efforts to secure
both objects as will be most likely to defeat both. But the
individual settlers, to whom is intrustcd the chief part of the
detail of the system, are not (like the governor) e\Ten called on
by any requisition of duty, to pay any attention to the most
important part of that system. They are not even required to
think of anything but thcir o,vn interest. The punishment and
the reformation of convicts are only incidental results. It is
trusted that the settler's regard for his own interest will m
ke
hinl exact hard labour and good conduct from the ser\Tants
assigned to him. But if indulgence is (as we have seen) likely
to answer his purpose better than rigid discipline, he cannot e\-en
be upbraided "Tith any breach of duty in resorting to it.
( Of the many extraordinary features in this most marvellous
specimen of legislation) it is one of the most paradoxical, that it
entrusts a nlost important public ser\-ice) in rcference to the
British nation, to men ,,-ho are neither selected out of this
nation on account of any supposed fitness to discharge it, nor
even taught to consider that they have any public duty to IJerfornl.
Eyen in the most negligently-governed communities, the keeper
of a house of correction is always, professedly at least, selected
with some vie\v to his integrity, discretion) firmness, and other
qualifications; and however ill the selection nlay be conducted,
he is at least taught to consider himself intrusted, for the public
benefit, ,,-ith an office which it is his duty to discharge on public
grounds. I-Ioweyer imperfectly all this rnay be accolnplished) few
persons "TonId deny that it is, and ought to be) at least, ainled
at. But this is not the case in the land of ornithorllynclllls
parado"vus and of other paradoxes. There, each settler is, as
far as his own household is concerncd, the keeper of a hOllse of
correction. To him) so far, is intrusted the punishlnent and the
reformation of crÍ1ninals. But he is not even called upon to
look to these objects, except as they ma)T incidentally further

a y xx
iii.]

Allnotaliol1.O:.

3 2

his own interest. He is neither e
pected nor e
horted to
regulate his treatment of convicts" ith a yiew to the diminution
of crinlc in the British I
le:s but to the profit::> of hi
farm in
.A.ustralia.
'It i, true, the settler may
ometimeQ be, like other men,
actuated by other feeling
besides a regard to profit: but the,;;;e
feelings are not likely to be tho,e of public
plrit. 'Yhen the
connct doe
,uffer hard u.;:age, it is not much to be e
pected
that this will be infliC'tecl with a yiew to strike terror into offen-
der
in Great Britain, or to effect any other salutary end of
puni
hnlent. His treatnlent is likely to depend not :50 much
on the character of the crime for which he \\ a'3 condemned as
on the character of his master. _-\.ccordillgly, Colonel _-\.rthur
(p. 3), in enlarging on the miseries to which a convict iQ ,ub-
jected, nlakes prominent mention of this that' he is con\ eyed
to a di ,tant country, in tbe condition of a shll'e, and assigned
to an unknown master, ,hose d'spo$itio , tell/pe-., alli el'e
cap/.ice, he must consult at every turn, and :;ubmit to every
Dlonlent.'
'Colonel -\.rthur (p. 13) falls into an inaccuracy of language
which tends to keep out of sight a most important practical
distinction. He
a-\s: c ,Yith rezard to the fact that convicts
. '-'
are treated as slal'es, any difficuItJ- that can be raised upon it
must hold good "hene\"er penitentiary or prison discipline is
inflicted.' If by a '
laYe' be meant any oue It:lio .8 S1 bjecte
to the control of Gllotheì', this is true. But the -word is not in
general thus applied. It is not 11SUal to ;speak of children as

lares to their schoolmaster
-, or to their parent.:; or of l)I-i
oners
being slave
of the jailer; or so.diers of their officers.-By
sla,e
"e generall
- understand, perSOllS w-honl their ma
ter
cOlllpels to 'Work fo . "is Oll"il hene/it.
-\.lld in this sense Colonel

\rthur himself (p. 1.) applies the term (I think yery properly)
to the a....
igned convict-serYant
.
: It is obserred by Homer, in the person of one of his cha-
racters in the Odyssey, that 'a man lo
es half his ,irtue the
day that he becomes a
laye:' hp might have added "With truth,
that he is likely to lose more than half "hen he becomes a

lal.e-m([stn.. A.nd if the cOll,-ict-sel"\-ants and their masters
ha,-c any virtue to lose, no s,ystem could ha' e been de,ised lllore
ctiectual for di\'e
ting them of it. E,-en the regular official

3 28

Of Plantations.

[Essay xxxiii.

jailers, and governors of penitentiaries, are in danger of becom-
ing brutalized, unless originally men of firm good principle.
Aud great wisdom in the contrivance of a penitentiary-system,
and care in the conduct of it, are requisite, to prcyent the
hardening and debasing of tIle prisoners. But ,,-hen both the
superintendent and the convicts feel that they are held in bon-
dage, and kept to work by hin1, not from any views of public
duty, but avowedly for his individual advantage, nothing can
be imagined more demoralizing to both parties.
, An10ng all the extravagances that are rccorded of capricious
and half-insane despots in times of ancient barbarislll, I do not
remember any instance mentioned, of anyone of these having
thought of so lllischievously absurd a project as that of fOl'n1Ìng
a ne,v nation, consisting of crirninals and executioners.
'But had such a tyrant cxisted, as should not only have de-
vised such a plan, but should have insisted on his subjects
believing, that a good moral effect would result frolH the inti-
11late association together, in idleness, of several hundreds of
reprobates, of various degrees of guilt, during a voyage of four
or five months, and their subsequent assignment as slaves to
various masters, under such a system as that just alluded to, it
,,'ould have ùecn doubted whether the 11lischievous insanity of
wanton desl)otiS111 could go a step beyond this. Another step
however there is; anù this is, the pretence of thus benefiting
and civilizing the Aborigines! Surely those .who expect the
In en of our hemisphere to believe all this, nlust suppose us to
entertain the ancient notion of the vulgar, that the Antipodes
are people among ,,
honl every thing is reversed. The lllode of
civilization practised, is of a piece ,vith the rest.
, They have (says one of the .writers on the Colony) been 'wan-
tonly butchered; and some of the christian (?) whites consider
it a pastime to go out and shoot them. I questioned a person
from Port Stephens concerning the disputes with the aborigines
of that part of the colony, and asked him, if he, or any of his
companions, had ever come into collision .with thel11, as I had
heard there prevailed much enmity between the latter and the
people belonging to the establishment? His ans,ver .was, ( Oh,
lve used to shoot them like fun l' It would ha\Te been a satis-
faction to have seen such a heartless ruffian in an archery ground,
,vith about a score of expert archers at a fair distance fi
om him,

Essay xXÅiii.]

Annotations.

3 2 9

if only to witness 11O'w wen he would personify the relJrcscnta-
tiOllS of St. Sebastian. This man ,,-as a shrc\Vd nlcchanic, and
]1ad been SOll1C years at Port Stephcns: if such people consider
the life of a black of so little value, how is it to be wondered
at if the convicts entcrtain the same opinion? It is to be
hoped that thc practice of shooting them is at an end; but
they arc still subjected to annoyance fronl the stock-keelJers,
,,10 take their womeu, and do them various iujuries besides.'
-Breton, p. 200.
, But to walye for the present all discussion of the moral
effects on thc settlers, likely to result from the system, let it
be supposed that the lahour of conyicts may be so employed
as to ach-ance the prosperitJ 4 of the colony, and let it only be
remenlhercd that this ohject is likely to be pursued both by
governors and settlers, at the expen:se of the other far more
ÏIllpOl'tallt one, which is inconsistent with it, the welfare of the
nlothcr-coulltry, ill respect of the l'epressioll of crinle. This
one consideration, apart from all others, would alone be decisive
against transportation as a modc of jJunislunent; since eyen if
thc systelll could hc Inade efficient for that object, supposing it
to be well adminishred 'lcith a view to tllat, there is a moral
ccrtainty that it neyer u'ill be so administered.
'If there be, as SOUle have suggested, a certain description
of offenders, to whom sentence of perpetual exile from their
nati\-e country is especially formidable, this object Inight easily
he attaincd, hyerecting a penitentiary on son1e one of the Dlany
snlall, near1y unproducti\'e, and unoccupied islands in the British

cas; the con\"cyance to ,yhich ,,'ould not occupy so many hours,
as that to .A.ustralia does ,,-eeks.
C But as for the attcmpt to eonlbine salutary punishnlent with
succcssful colonization, it only leads, in practice, to the failure
of both objects; and, in the lllil1d, it can only be effected by
keeping up a fallacious confusion of ideas.'
, Plantations are amongst ancient, primitire, and heroical
'lliorks.'
Dr. lIinds remarks on the great success with which the
ancient Greeks colonized: pursuing an opposite l)lan from that
of all nations :since, and accordingly, with opposite results.
.c\.n ancicnt Greek colony ,,"as like what gardellcrs call a

33 0

Of Plantations.

[Essay xxxiii.

layer; a portion of the parent tree, with stem, twigs, and lea,T('s,
inlhedded in fresh soil till it had taken root, and then f'evered.
A modern colony is like handfuls of twigs and leaves pulled off
at random, and thrown into the earth to take their chance.

'Abol'e all, let 'Jnen '(/lake that profit of being in the ll'ilderness,
that they have God always, and his service before their
eyes.'

Every sett1er in a foreign colony is, necessarily, more or less,
a missionary to the aborigines-a missionary for good, or a mis-
sionary for evil,-operating upon them by his life and example.
It is often said that our colonies ought to provide for their
o""n spiritual wants. But tIle more is done for them in this
,yay, the more likely they win be to make such provision; and
the more they are neglected, the less likely they are to do it.
It is the peculiar nature of the inestimable treasure of christian
truth and religious knowledge, that the nlore it is ,vithheld fronl
people, the less they wish for it; and the more is bestowed
upon them) the nlore they hungpr and thirst after it. If people
are kept upon a short allowance of food, they are eager to obtain
it; if you keep a nlan thirsty, he will become the more and
more thirsty; jf he is poor, he is exceedingly anxious to become
rich; but if he is left in a state of spiritual destitution, after a
time he ,,-in, and still more his children, cease to feel it, and
cease to care about it. It is the last ",aut men can be tru'Sted
(in the first instance) to SUIJply for thenlSelyes.

ESSAY XXXI\T. OF RICIIES.

I CA.XXOT can richcs bettcr than the baggage of virtue; the
Roman worù is better-i/JlpediJ/wnta; 1 for as the baggage is
to an arnlY, so is riches to virtue-it cannot be spared nor left
l1chilld, but it hindereth the nlareh; yea, and the c
rc of it
sOIlletinlCs loseth or disturheth the victory. Of great riches
there is no real use, except it bc in the distribution; the rest is
but conceit; so saith SolonIon, ',Yhere much is, there are many
to consume it; and what hath the owner but the sight of it
with llis cye8 ?':: rrhe personal fruition in any man cannot reach
to fccl grcat riches: thcre is a custody of then1, or a power of
dole/ anù a donative of thcIn, or a fanle of them, but no solid
use to the owner. Do you not see what fcigneù prices are set
upon little stones and raritics-and what works of ostentation
arc undcrtaken, beeause 4 there might secm to bc some use of
great riches '? But then, you will say, they may be of use to
buy men out of dangers or troublcs; as Sololnon saith, ' Riches
are as a strolJghoid in the inlagination of the l'ich nlan :'5 but
this is excellently expresscd, that it is in imagination, and not
always ill fact; for, certainly great riches have sold more mcn
than thcy haye bought out. Seek not proud riches, but such
as thou lnaycst gct justly, use soberly, distribute cheerfully, and
leave contentedly; yet have no abstract or fl'iarly contcll1pt of
them, but di:stinguish, as Cicero saith well of Rabirius Pos-
tlnlluus, 'In stuùio rei anlplificandæ, apparebat, non avaritiæ
pl'ædaln, sed instrulllentum bonitati quæri.'6 Hearken also to
Sololllon, anù beware of hasty gathering of riches: 'Qui festinat
ad di, itia
, non crit insons.' ï rrhe poets feign, that when Plutus
(which is riches) is sent from J U I Jite1', he lim p s and o-oes slon-h.
'b '" ,

1 Impelliuwuts. Hiìl(!l'ances. 2 Eccles. Y. 11.
3 Dole. Á dealing out, or disl1-ibulion.
, It was Jour pre-surmise,
That in the dole of blows, your son might drop.'
4 Becau
e. For tlte reaso,j, that; i,l, ordeJ. tltal. :See page 2.3 6 .
6 PJ"Ol'e,.bs X. I.); cf. .\..xviii. I I.
6 'In his desire of incrpasing his riche
, he sought not, it was evident, the
gratification of avarice, but the means of bellct1cence.'-Cic. P. RabÙ". 2.
; 'He that maketh ha,;te to be rich, shall not be innocent/-Provo xxviii. 20.

33 2

Of Riches.

[Essay xxxiv.

but 'when he is sent from PInto, he runs, and is swift of foot;
Ineaning, that riches gottf'n by good means and just lal)our pace
slow]y, but ,,-hen they come hy the death of others (as by the
course of iilheritance, testamcnts, and the like), they come
tunlbling upon a n1an: hut it might be applied likewise to Pluto
taking him for the Deyil; for lrhen riches come from the Devil
(as by fraud, and oPlJression, and unjust means) they conle npon 1
speed. The ,vays to enrich are many, and most of them foul:
parsin10ny is one of the best, and yet is not innocent, for it
withholdeth men from ,,'orks of liberality and charity. The
improvenlent of the ground is the most natural obtaining of
riches, for it is our great n10ther's hlessing, the earth; but it is
slow: and yet, ,vhere men of great wealth do stoop to hushandry,
it multiplieth riches eAceeclingly. I knew a nobleman of England
that had the greatest audits of any man in my time,-a great
grazier, a great sheep n1aster, a great tinlùer nlan, a great col-
lier, a great corn n1aster, a great learl nlan, and so of iron, and
a number of the like points of husbandry; so as the earth seemed
a sea to hin1 in respect of the perpetual ÍInportation. It ,vas
truly observed by one, 'That himself canle very hardly to little
riches, and very easily to great riches;' for when a man's stock
is come to that, that he can cxpect
the prime of n1arkets, and
ovcrcome 3 those bargains, ,:rhich for their greatness are few
men's 1110ney, and ùe IJartncr in the industries of younger men,
he cannot but increase mainly.4 The gains of ordinary trades
and vocations 5 are honest, and furthered by two things, chiefly,
by diligence, and by a good nalne for good and fair dealing;
but the gains of bargains are of a more doubtful nature, when
nlen shall wait upon other's necessity; broke 6 by servants

1 Upon. .At.
'Take upon command what help we have.'-Shakespere.
2 Expect. To 'Wait for. 'Elihu had expected till Job had spoken.' -Job
xxxii. 14 (marginal reading).
'. . . Expecting till his enemies be made his footstool.'-Heb. x. 13.
3 Overcome. Come upon.

, Can such things be,
And overcome us, like a summer's cloud,
'Vithout our special wonder ?'-Sltakespere.
4 ::\Iainly. Greatly.
'You mainly are stirred up.'-Slwkespere.
5 Y ocation. See page 19.
6 Broke. To traffic; ta deal meanly. ' This divine, contrary to his profession,

E
say x
xiv.J

Of Riches.

333

aIHl instnuncnts to c1ra,v them on; put off others cunningly
that would be hetter chaplllcn, l and thc like pl'acticcs, which
are crafty and nauo'htv.<,J ..As for the chO I ) I )illg of bargains, when

0 w
a man buys not to hold, but to sell o,-er again, that con1monly
grindcth double, hoth upon the scller and upon the buyer.
Sh
rin
s do greatly enrich, if the hands be well chosen that are
trn
tcd. Usury is the certainest nleans of gain, though one of
the worst, as that whcreby a man doth eat his bread, 'in 8'lldore
vitI/us alieJli,'J and bC'5ides, doth plough upon Sundays: but yet
ccrtain though it be, it hath flaws j for that the scriveners and
brokers do value unsound mcn to serye their own turn. The
fortunc in being the first in an invcntion, or in a privilege, doth
cause S0111ctinle-.; a wonderful overgrowth in riche:;; as it was
with thc fir
t sugar Ulan in the Canal'ies: therefore, if a man
can play the truc logician, to have as ,veIl judgluent as invention,
he nlay do great mattel's, espccially if the times bc fit. He that
rcsteth upon gains ccrtain, :shall hardly gro,v to great riches j
ana he that puts an upon a(h'cntures, cloth oftentilnes break and
COlnc to PO\ erty : it i
gooll, thercfore, to guarù adventures with
ccrtainties that Inay uphold losses. :i\IonolJolies, and coemption
of warcs for re-sale, whcl'e they are not restrained, are great
Incans to cnrich j c;,;pecially if the party have illtclligence .what
things are like to come into requcst, and .so store himself before-
hand. Riches gotten by servicc, though it he of the best rise,
yet when they are gotten by flattcry, feeding hunlours, and
other servile conditions, they tUllY be placed amongst the .worst.
As for' fishing for testaluents anù executorships,' (as Tacitus

aith of Scneca, 'Testamenta et orbos tanqnaln indagine capi,H)
it is yet worse, by how much nlcn subluit themsel vcs to meaner
pCl'SOl1S than iu servicc.
Believe not 111uch them that seem to despisp riches, for they
despise them that despair of them j and none worse when they
COlnc to them. Be not pClluy-wise j riches ha'
e wings, anù

took upon him to broke for him in such a manner fiS was never precedented by
nny.'-PJ"Oceedin.'ls in the Ilollse of Commons against Lord Bacon.
I Cha!)men. PllrCltasel's.
'" Fair Diomede,
'ou do as chapmen do-
Dispraise the thing that they intend to buy.'-Slzakespere.
. 2 Xaught. Bad. 'The water is naught, anù the ground barrell.'-2 Kings
Xl. 19. 3 , In the swpat of another's brow.'
4 '\VilIs aUlI chilùlu
parents, taken as with a net.' - Tacit. J In.
iii. 4 2 .

334

Of Riclles.

[Essay X
XIV.

sometimes they fly a,,'ay of themsel,-es) sometirnes they nlust be
set flying to bring in n10re.
Iell leave their riches either to
their kindred, or to the Public; and moderate portions prosper
best in both. A great estate left to an heir, is as a lure to all
the birds of prey round about to seize on him, if he he not the
better stablished 1 in years and judgment: likewise, glorious 2 gifts
and foundations are like sacrifices ,,-ithout salt; and but the
painted sepulcl1res of alms, ,rhich soon ,,,ill putrify and corrupt
inwardly. Therefore measure not thine advancements 3 by quan-
tity, hut franle them by measure: alld defer not charities till
death; for, certainly) if a man ,,,eigh it rightly, he that doth
o
is rather liberal of another mall'S than of his own.

ANTITHETA ON RICHES.

PRO.
, Dh-itias contelIlllullt, qui desperant.
'Riches are despised by those 'who
despair of obtaining them.'
* * * *
, Dum philosophi ùubitant utrum ad
yirtutem an volnptatem omnia sint
referenda, collige instrumenta utriusquc.
, 1T7tile pltilosopliers are debatillg
'lchetlwr 'firtue or pleasure be the ulti-
'mate .qood, do you, p'í'ovide you'J'self
'iOitll the instruments of both.'

'Yirtus per divitias vertitur in com-
mune bonum.
, It is by means of 'wealth that virtue
becomes a puUic flood.'
* '*' * *

CONTRA.
'Divitiarum magnarum vel custodia
est, vel dispen
atio quædam, vel fmlla;
at nullus usus.
, Great u'eaUlt is a thing eitller to be
guarded, or dispensed, or displayed;
but which cannot be used.'

'X on aliud divitias dixerim, quam
impedimenta virtutis; nam virtuti et
necessariæ sunt et graves.
'Riclles are neitller more nor less
th.an tlle ba.qgage of virtue; fur tlley
are at once necpssary and inconvenient
oppendages to it.'

':Multi, dum divitiis suis omnia
vellalia fore creùiderllnt, ipsi imprimis
vencrullt.
'}JIang 'lvltO tliÏJ1k that everyt7ling
may be bought 'lcith their mcn wealth,
ltave been bought themselves first.'

, Divitiæ bona ancilla, pes:,ima domina.
, 1realth is a good ltandmaid, but a
bad -mistress.'

1 Stablish. To establish. ' Now our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, even
our Father . . . . comfort your hearts, and stablisll J"ou in every good word and
work.'-2 Thess. xi. 16, 17.
, Stop effusion of our christian blood,
And stablish quietness on every side.' -Shakespere.
2 Glorious. Splendid.
'\Vere not this glorious casket stored.'-Sltakespe'ì.e.
Bacon's Latin original is-' Fnndationes gloriosæ et splelldidæ in usus publicos.'
3 Advanc'ement. Advances; gifts in mouel! or property. ' The jointure and
advancement of the lady was the third part of the Principality of 'Yales:'-Bacon's
lIist.

Essay xxxiv.]

Annotations.

335

A:NXOTATIOKS.

, I cannot call riches bette
. than the baggage of virtue; lite ROJ/zan
u:m.d is hetter, impedltllellta . . . . . it ltinderetlt tlte Ilarch.'

In reference to thc effect on the character, both of individuals
and nation
, of wealth ancl poverty, I will take leave to insert
:'501nC cxtracts fro In the Lectures on Political Econoflzy.
, 'Ye should attend to the distinction between an individual
and a COJll1JllllÛly, WhCll viewed as po
sessing a remarkable
share of wealth. The two cases differ in1mensely, as far as the
moral effects of ,ycal th are concerned. For, first, the most
besctting probably of all the ten]ptations, to which a rich nUl/I,
a
such, is expo
cd, is that of pride-an arrogant disdain of
tho:;e poorcl' than hill1sclf. K ow, as aU our ideas of grcat and
slllall, in respect of wcalth, and of e,-erythillg el:5e, are COln-
parative, and as cach man is disposed to con1pare himself with
thosc around hill1, it is plain, the danger of priding one's self on
wealth, affects e
clusively, or nearly so, an illdividual who is
rieh, compared with his own coulltrynlcll; and especially one
who is richer than 1110st others in his own walk of life, and who
rC:'5idc in his 0\\ 11 neighbourhood. Some degree of national
pride there may bc, cOllnectcd with national 1fcalth; but this i8
not in gcneral near so III uch the fouudation of national pride as
a supposctl supcriority in valour, or in mental culti,-ation: and
at any rate it seldon1 conles into play. An Englishman ,,,ho is
poor, conlparcd with other Englislllnen, is not likely to be much
puffed up with pride at the thought of bclonging to a wealthy
cOllllnunity. X ay, C\-ell though he should himself possess property
which, an10ng- thc pcople of Tilllbuctoo, or the aboriginal Britons,
would be rcckoncd great 1fcr.lth, he 1fill be lnorc likely to
conlplain of his po\-erty, than to be filled with self-congratula-
tion at his wcalth, if most of those of his own class are as rich
or richcr than hin1self. Aud evcn one .who tra,-cls or rcsides
abroad, docs not usually regard ,"ith disdain (on the score of
wcalth at lea
t) thosc foreigners who are illdi,-idual1y as well off
in that respcct as hÏ1nself, though their nation may be poorer
than his. And, on the other hand, those inùi,-iduals who, in a
poor country, are comparativcly rich, are quite as ll1uch exposcd
as any to the tClnptatioll of pridc.

33 6

Of Riches.

L Essay xxxiv.

'As for ,,,hat may be said respecting avarice, selfishness,
'Yorldly
mindedness, &c., it may suffice to reply, that not only
these vices are found as commonly in poor countries as in rich,
but eyen in the same country, the poor are not at all less
liable to them than the rich. Those in affluent circumstances
'Jnay be ab
wrbed in the pursuit of gain; but they rnay also,
and s0111etimes do, devote themselves altogether to literature,
or science, or other pursuits, altogether remote from this:
those, on the other hand, ,vho 'In'ltst maintain thenlselves by
labour or attention to business, are at least not the less
liable to the tcmptation of too anxiously taking thought for the
morrO'L
, Luxury, again, is one of the evils represented as conseqnent
on ,vealth. The word is used in so many senses, and so often
without attaching any precise meaning to it, that great confusion
is apt to be introduced into any discussion in which it occurs.
"Tithout, howeyer, entering prematurely on any such discussion,
it may be sufficient, as far as the present question is concerned,
to point out that the terms luxury, and luxurious, are consider-
ahly modified as to their force, according as they are applied
to indi,-iduals or to nations. As an individual, a ')}UIJ1 is called
luxurious, in c0111parison with other men, of the same community
and in the same .walk of life with himself: a nation is called
luxurious, in reference to other nations. The sanle style of
living 'which ,vould be reckoned moderate and frugal, or even
penurious aillong the higher orders, ,,'ould be censured as ex-
travagant luxury in a day-labourer: and the labourer, again, if
he liyes in a cottage ,,-ith glass-windows and a chilnney, and
'wears shoes and stockings, and a linen or cotton shirt, is not
said to live in luxury, though he possesses .what ,vould be thought
luxlu'ies to a negro-prince. A rich and luxurious nation, there-
fore, does not necessarily contain more individuals who live in
luxury (according to the received use of the word) than a poor
one; but it possesses more of such things as would be luxuries
in the poor country, ,vhile in the rich one, they are not. The
inclination for self-indulgence and ostentation is not necessarily
less strong in poor than in rich nations; the chief difference is,
that their luxury is of a coarser description, and generally has
more connection with gross sensuality. Barbarians are ahnost
invariably intenlperate.

Essay xxxiv.]

Annotations.

337

, As for the effclninizillg effects that have been attributed to
national lu
ury, which has bccn charged with causing a decay
of national encrgy, meutal aud bodily, no such results appear
traceable to any such cause. Xenopholl, indeed, attributes the
degeneracy of thc Per
ians to thc inl'oads of luxury, which Wc1S
carricd, he says, to such a pitch of effeminacy, that they even
aLloptC'd the use of glo,'es to protect thcir hands. 'Ye probably
ha\T gone as much beyond then1, in respect of the COlJlJnon style
of living among us, as they, beyond their rude forefathers; yet
it will hardly be maintained that this nation displays, in the
cl1lploYlncllts cither of ,val' or peace, less bodily or mcntal energy
than our .A.uglo-Saxon ancestors. In bodily strength, it has
bcen a
certaiucd by accurate and repeated experiments, that'"
civilizcd Inen are decidcdly superior to sa,-ages; and that the
JllOre barbarian, and those who lead a harder life, are generally
inferior in this point to those 'who have made more approaches
to civilization. Thcre is, indccd, in such a country as this, a
larger proportion of fceble aud sickly indi yidllals; but this is
bceause the hard
hip and exposure of a savage life speedily
destroys those who are not of a robust constitution. Some
thcrc arc, no doubt, whose health is Ï1npaired by an o,.er-
indulgent and tcndcr modc of life; but as a general rule it nlay

afcly be maintained, that the greater part of that over-propor-
tion of infirnl pcrsons among us, as compared, for instance,
"ith SOllle \\ ild X orth .Alnerican tribe, owe, not their infirmity,
but their life, to the difference bet" een our habits and those of
savages. How lnuch the a,'erage duration of human life has
progrcssively increa:sed in later times, is probably ,yell-known
to )no
t pcrsons.
'Lastly, one of the most important points of distinction
hetween indh'iduals and naiions in respect to wealth, is that
which relates to industry and idlencss. Rich In en, though they
are indeed often nlost laboriously and honourably acti ,?e, yet
lIIay, and sometin1es do, spend their li'7cs in such idleness as
cannot be found among the poor, excepting in the class of
beggars. .A. rich nation, on the contrary, is always an indus-
trious uation; and alnlost always more industrious than poor
OllC
.'
. . . . '_\.nlong poor and barbarian nations, we may find
as much avarice, fraud, vanity, and en, y, called forth, in rc-
z

33 8

Of Ric/tes.

[Essay xxxiv.

ference perhap:s to a string of bcads, a hatchet, or a l11usket, as
are to be found in wealthicr communitics.'
. . . . . 'The savage is cOlnmollly found to bc COyctous, fre-
qucntly rapacious, ,,,hCll his prescnt inclination impels hiln to
secl{ any object which he needs, or ,,,hich his fancy i:s sct on.
lIe is not indeed so steady 01' so jJì"orident, in his IJUl'suit of gain,
as the civilized lllan; but this is from the gencral unst
adiness
and inlprovidence of his charactcr,-llot froll1 his being cngrossed
in higher pursuits. "rhat keeps him poor, in addition to ,,-ant
of skill and insecurity of property, is not a philosophical
cOlltenl1)t of riches, but a love of sluggish torpor aud of IJrcscnt
gratification. The sanle may be said of such persons as COIl-
stitute the dregs of a civilized connnunity; they are idle,
thoughtless, inlprovident; but thievish. Lalncntable as it is
to see, as .we may, for instance, in our O'Vll country, l1lultitudes
of Beings of such high qualifications and such high dcstination
as
Ian, absorbed in the pursuit of l1lerely external and merely
temporal objects-occupied in schcnlcs for attaining wealth and
,,-orldly aggrandizclnent, without any higher views in pursuing
them,-we l1lUst remenlber that the savage is not above such a
life, but belo'w it. It is not froin preferring virtue to wcalth
-the goods of thc lllind to those of fortune-the next ,vorId
to the IJl'esent-that he takes so little thought for the morrow;
but, from "'ant of forethought and of habitual self-conlmand.
The civilized l11all, too often, directs these qualities to an un-
,yorthy object; the savage, universally, is deficient in the
qualities themselves. The one is a strealn, flowing, too often,
in a ,vrong cl1annel, and ,vhich nceds to havc its course altered;
the other is a stagnant pool.'
'There is one antecedent preflumlJtion that the advancement
in national ,,,calth should be, on the "'hole, fayourahle to n10ral
Ünprovement, fronl what 'we kno,v of the divine dispensations,
both ordinary and extraordinary. I am aware ,,-hat caution is
called for in any atten1pt to reason à prriori from our notions
of the charact
r and designs of the Supreme Being. But in
this case there is a clear analogy bcfore us. \Ve know that God
placed the hunlan species in such a situation, and endued thenl
1vith such faculties and propensities, as "Tould infallibly tcnd to
the advancell1ent of society in wealth, and in all the arts of life;
instead of either creating
Ian a different kind of Being, or

J.
:"say xxxiv,]

Annotatiuns.

339

leaving hilll in that wild and uuinstructed state, from which
he could nc\'cr Ita, e elllCl'ged.
ow if the natural consequcncc
of thi
a(h'ance1l1ent be a continual pl'o
re::;s from had to worse
-if thc increa
e of wealth, and the development of the in-
tcllectual power:-ì, tend, not to the improvemcnt, but rather
to thc depra,'ation, of the nloral character-we may safely pro-
nounce this to be at yariance with all allalogy,-a conlplete
l'c\'crsal of e\'ery other appointluent that we see throughout
creation.
C And it i
completely at variance with the reyealed 'ViII of
God. }'or, the great inIpediments to the progress I anI speak-
ing of arc, war, and di
sen
ion of e,'el'Y kind,-insecurity of
propcrty-illdolencc, aud ucglect of providing for ourselves, and
for those dcpcndcnt on us. Xow, God has forhidden )Ian to
kill, aud to steal; lIe has inculcated on him gentleness, honesty,
sublnis:5ioll to lawful a 1 lthority, and industry in providing for
his own household. If therefore the advancement in national
wealth,-" hich i
found to be, by the appoillhnent of Pl'oyidence,
the result of obedicnce to the::3c precepts-if, I say, this ad-
\anCemcllt naturally tends to counteract that improvement of
the lIIoral character, which the saIne God has pointed out to us
as the great busincss of this life, it is in1possible to avoid the
conclusion, that lIe has given contradictory conuuands,-that
lIe has dirccted us to pursue a course of action, which leads to
an end the yery opposite of what we are required by HinIsclf to
ailn at.'
nut the opposite conclusion is, surely, much more in accor-
dance with reason anr1 experience, as \\ ith every rational wish,
that as the'
Iost IIigh has evidently forilled society with a
tendcncy to ad vaneelllellt ill national wealth, so, He has de-
signed and fitted U8 to adyance, by means of that, in virtue, and
true wisdom, and happiness.

C Believe not mucll tliem tliat seem to despise ,.iches.'

The' declaimers on the ineolnpatibility of wealth and virtue
arc l11erc dcclaÍ1ncl's, and nothing more. For, you will often
find thenl, ill the next breath, condelnning or applauding every
measure or institution, according to its supposed tendency to
increasc or diminish wealth. Y.ou" ill find them not only readily
Z2

34 0

Of Ric/les.

[Essay xxxiv.

acceptin
wealth themselves from any honourable source, and
anxious to secure fronl poyerty their children and all most dear
to them, (for this nlight be referred to the prevalence of pas-
sion o,.er principle), but even offering up solemn prayers to
Heaven for the prosperity of their native country; and contem-
plating with joy a flourishing condition of her agriculture,
manufactures, or commerce; in short, of
he sources of her
wealth. Seneca's discourses in praise of poverty ,vould, I have
no doubt, be rivalled by many "Titers of this island, if one half
of the revenues he drew from the then inhabitants of it, by
lending them money at 11igh interest, were proposed as a prize.
Such declaimers against ,vealth resen1ble the Harpies of ,-rirgil,
seeking to excite disgust at the banquet of "rhich they are them.
selves eager to partake.

, Have no ahstract nor friarly contempt of them.'

The goods of this world are not at all a trifling concern to
Christians, considered. as Christians. 'Yhet.her, inderd, we our-
selves shall have enjoyed a large or a small share of them, will
be of no inlportance to us a hundred years hence j but it will
be of the greatest importance, ,vhether we shall have employed
the faculties and opportunities granted to us, in the increase and
diffusion of those benefits among others. For, in regard to
,vealth, as ,veIl as all those objects which the great moralist of
antiquity places in the class of things good in themsehres,
(á7TÀWÇ à"fu()à), more depends, as he himself remarks/ on the
use we make of these bounties of Providence, t.han on the ad-
vantages thenlselves. They aì.e, in themselves, goods; and it
is our part, instead of affecting ungratefully to slight or to com-
plain of God's gifts, to endeavour to Dlake them goods to 'Us,
(IJp.ív
-yu()à), by studying to use them aright, and to promote,
through them, the best interests of ourselves and our fellow-
creatures. Eyery situation in which l\Ian can be placed has,
along with its own peculiar advantages, its own peculiar diffi-
culties and trials also; ,vhich we are caned on to exert our
faculties in providing against. The most fertile soil does not

1 Arist. Etk. b. v. c. 3.

E:--say xxxi\"-J

Annotations.

34 1

llece
sarily bear the most abundant harvest; its "eeds, if neg-
lected, will grow the rankest. And the 8ervant who has
received but one talent, if he put it out to use, will fare better
than he who has been entrusted ,,
ith five, if he squander or
bury thenl. But still, this last docs not suffer because he
rcccivcd five talents; but because he has not used them to ad.
van tage.

ESSAY XXXV. OF PROPHECIES.

I
IEAN not to speak of diy-ine prophecies, nor of heathen
oracles, nor of natural predictions, but only of prophecies
that have been of certain lllenlory, and fro111 hidden causes.
Saith the Pythonissa l to Saul, 'To-nlOrrO'Y thou and thy sons
shall be with me.' 2 Virgil hath these verses from Homer:

'At domus Æneæ cunctis dominabitur oris,
Et nati llatorum, et qui nascent.ur ab illis :' 3
a prophecy, as it seems, of the Roman enlpire. Seneca the
tragedian hath these verses :

, Venient annis
Sæcula seris, qnibus Oceanus
Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens
Pateat telllls, Tiphysque novos
Detegat. orbes; nee sit terris
Ultima Thule:'"

a prophecy of the discovery of America. The daughter of
Polycrates dreamed that Jupiter bathed her father, and Apollo
anointed him; and it canle to pass that he was crucified in an
open place, where the sun 111ade his body run with sweat, and
the rain .washed it. 5 Philip of l\lacedon 6 dreanled he sealed up
his ,,-ife's belly; "Thereby he did expound it, that his wife
should he barren; but Aristander, the soothsayer, told him his
wife was with child, hecause men do not use to seal yessels that
arc empty. A phantom that appeared to l\1. Brutus in his
tent, said to him, 'Philippis iterum lue videbi:5.'7 Tiberius
said to Galba, , Tu quoque, Galb:t, degustabis in1l)erium.'8 In
,r espasian's time there 'went a prophecy in the East, that those
that should come forth of J udea should reign oyer the world;
,yhich, though it may be was meant of our Sayiour, yet Tacitus

1 Pythonissa. Pytlwness. 2 I Sam. xxviii. 19,
3 'Over every shore the house of Æneas shall reign; his children's children, and
their posterity likewise.'-Æ'leid, iii. 97,
oj 'There shall come a time, in later ages, when Ocean shall relax his chains, and
a vast continent appeal'; and a pilot shall find new worlds, and Thule shall be no
more earth's hOUlld.'-:3en. Mecl. xi. 375.
á Hesiod, iii. 24. 6 Pluto Vito Ale
?:an. 2.
7 'Thou sbalt see me again at Philippi.'-Appian, Bell. Civ. iv. 134.
S 'Thou, also, Galba, shalt taste of empire.' -Stat. Vito Galba.

Essay XXX".]

OJ Prophecies.

343

cxpounds it of V cspasian. 1 Domitian dreamcd, the night before
he was
laill, that a goldcn head was growing out of the nape
of his llPek;2 and, iuaced, thc snecc
sion that followed him,
for Inany ycars, nlade goldf'n times. IIenry VI. of England
said of lIcnry 'TIl. WitCH hc was a lad, and gave him water,
'This is the lad that shall enjoy the crown for which we
stri,'c.' 'Vhell I was in Fl'anc(', I heard fronl OllC Dr. Pena,
that the queen-mother, who was giyen to curious arts, caused
the king hcr husband's nativity to he calculated under a false
nalTIC, and the astrologcr gaye a judg1nent that he should be
killed in a duel; at which the queen laughed, thinking her
11ushand to he ahoye challengcs and duels; but he was slain
upon a course at tilt, the splinters of the staff of l\Iontgomery
going in at his heavcr. The trivial prophecy which I heard
"hcn J was a child, anù Queen Elizabeth \Tas in the flower of
her years, was,

{'YIll'11 hempe is spun,
England's donc :'

"herchy it 'was generally concciycd, that after the prinf'es had
reigned which had the principal letters of that word hempc,
which were lIenr)'", Edward,
Iary, Philip, and Elizabeth,
England should COlllC to utter confusion; 'which, thanks be to
God, is ,erifled in the change of the nanle, for the king's style
is now no morc of England, but of Britain. There was also
another prophecy beforc the year of eighty-eight, \vhich I do
not well understand:

'There shan be seen upon a day,
l
ebn
cn the llaugh 3 and the ';\Iay,
The blaC'l,: fleet of X oTway.
\rhen that is come anù gone,
England builú houses of lime and stonp,
For after wars
hall JUU have none.'

It was generally concci,'cù to be n

ant of tlle Spanish fleet that
can1(' ill pighty-eight; for that the l(ing of Spain's surnamc, as
they say, is Norway. Thc prediction of Regiomontanus,

, Octogesimus octavus mirabili" annus;4

wa
thought likewi
c aeeo111plished in the sending of that

1 Tacit. IIis!. v. 13.
3 Baugh. Bou!Jh (probably).

2 Suet. rife Donzif. 23,
" Eighty-eight, a wonderful year.

34-+

Of P1
oplzecies.

[Es
ay xxxv.

great fleet, being the greatest in strength, though not in
nun1ber, of all that ever s\vam Ul)on the sca. As for Cleon's
dream, 1 I think it was a jest-it w.as, that he was devoured of

a long dragon; and it was expounded of a maker of sausages,
that troubled him exceedingly. There are nun1bers of the like
kind) especially if you include dreams) and predictions of
astrology; but I have set down these fe,v only of certain credit,
for example. 1\ly judglllent is, that they ought all to be
despised, and ought to serve but for winter-talk by the fire-side.
Though "when I say despised, I mean it as for belief-for other-
wise, the spreading or publishing of them is in no sort to be
despised-for they hayc done much mischief, and I see n1any
severe la,ys made to suppress them. That that hath given them
grace, and some credit, consisteth in three things. First, that
men mark when they hit, and never mark ,,-hen they miss; as
they do, generally, also of drealns. The second is, that probable
conjectures, or obscure traditions, many titnes tnI'll thell1selves
into prophecies: while the nature of man ,,,hich coyeteth
divination, thinks it no peril to foretell that which indeed they
do but collect, as that of Seneca's verse; for so much was then
subject to demonstration, that the globe of the earth had great
parts beyond the Atlantic, which n1Ïght be probably conceived
not to be all sea, and addiug thereto the tradition in Plato's
Tirnæus and his Atlanticus/ it n1Ïght encourage one to turn it
to a prediction. The third alldlast, which is the great one, is)
that almost all of them, being infinite in numbcr, have been
in1postures, and by idle and crafty brains, Inel'ely contrived anJ
feigned, after the event past.

1 Aristoph. Equit. 19.5.
2 Of. B!J. 'Lest a more honourable man thou be bidden ofhim.'-Luke xiv. 8.
3 Critias.

Essay :\.x
V . ]

Annotations.

345

AN X OT ...-\.r"fr 0 KS.

l The .
J"eading or publishing of tlte1J
is in no sort to be despised,
fo/' tlley Ilave done nt/clt uâsclâef.'

A political prediction, publicly uttcred, ,,,in often have had,
or be supposed to ha\-e had, a great share in bringing about its
own fulfilmcnt. Accordingly, when a la,v is actually passed,
and thcl'c is no reasonable hope of its repeal, we should be very
cautious in publicly uttel'ing predictions of dangers and discon-
tents, lc
t we should thus become the means of engendering or
aggrayating thcm. lIe who gives out, for instance, that the
pcoplp "ill certainly bc dis:5atisfied with such and such a law
is in this doing his utmost to rnake thelll dissatisfied. And
this bcing the case in an unfavourable, as well as favourable,
predictions, some n1en lose thcir deser'
ed credit for political
sagacity, through their fear of contributing to produce the evils
thcy apprchend; while others, again, contribute to evil results
by thcir incapacity to keep their anticipations lockpd up in their
own bosoms, and by their dread of not obtaining deserved
crC'dit. It would be desirable to provide for such men a relief
like that which the scr\Tant of I(illg
Iidas fouud, due care,
howcycr, being taken that thcre should be no w hispel'ing reeds
to divulge it.
In another l New Atlantis,' cntitled An Expedition to tIle
IJiterior of J..'''-ew HoZland/ a Prediction-office is supposed to
cxist in se,-eral of the State
, namely, an c
tabli5hn1ent consist.
ing of two or three inspectors, and a few clerks, appointed to
receivc fl'oll1 any onc, on paynlcllt of a trifling fee, any sealed-up
p,.edictioJl, to be opencd at a time specified by the party him-

elf. l-lis name is to be sigucd to the prediction 'll'ithin; and
on the outcr covcr is inscribed the date of its delivery, and the
time when the seal is to be broken. There is no pretence
made to
upcrnatural prophetic powers; only to supposed poli-
tical 8aga
ity.
Unlc:5s in some cas
in which very remarkahle sagacity has
b
CIl evinced, the predictions are not Dlade public. But pre-

1 Published by Bentle,y,

3-+6

Of Propllecies.

[Essay xxxv.

yiously to the al)pointn1ent of any of the authors to any public
office, thc inspectors arc bound to look over their register, and
produce, as a set-off against a candidate's claims, any unsuc-
cessful prediction lIe may have made. J\Iany a man there is to
",.hom inlportant public trusts are eOD1mitted, who, whereycr
such an institution had bcen cstablishcd, "Tould be founa to have
formal1y recorded, under the influence of self-conceit, his o,vn
incapacity.

, Men rnark when they hit, and never 'fnark when they 'iniss.'

This remark, as .well as tl1e proverb, "Yhat is hit is history;
,,,hat is missed is mystery,' ,vould admit of mnch generalization.
The most general statement would be nearly that of the law.
n1axim, 'De non apparentibus et non existentibus, eadem est
ratio :' for in all matters, meñ are apt to treat as altogether
non-existent, whateycr does not come under their knowledge or
notice.
No doubt, if aU the }10cket- books no,v existing could be iu-
spected, some thousands of men10randa ,yould be found of drean1s,
visions, omens, l1resentin1ents, &c., kept to observe ,,,hether they
are fulfilled; and when one is, out of some hundrcds of thou-
sands, this is recorded; the rest being never heard of. So
Bion, whcn shown the votiye offerings of thosc who had becn
sayed from shipwreck, asked, "'-'-he1"e arc the records of those
,,,ho ,vere drowned in spite of their vows ?'
lVIr. Senior has remarked in his Lectures on Political Econorny,
that the sael'ifice of vast "Tcalth, on the }1art of a ,,-hole people,
for t.he gain-and that, comparatively a trifling gain-of a hand-
fuI of Inonopolists, is often snblnitted to patiently, 1 from the
gain being concentrated and the loss diffused. But this would
not have occurred so oft('n as it has, ,vere it not that this diffu-
sion of the loss eauses its existence-that is, its existence as a
loss so increa-sed-to be unperceived. If a n1Íllion of persons
arc each virtually taxed half-a-crown a year in the increased
price of some article, through the prohibition of free-trade, per-
haps not above a shilling of this goes to those ,,,ho profit by the
nlonopoly. But this million of shillings, an10unting to Æ50,ooo

1 See Annotations on Essay xxiii.

Essay \. XXY.]

Annotatiolls.

347

per annnn1, is dividf'd, perhaps, among fifty persons, wl
o clearly
pel'ceil"l
"hellcc their re,-ellHC is deri, e(l; ana who, when an in-
comp of . L 1000 is at stake, will COIn hillC togethC'r, and use cvery
cflürt alid artificc to kC'C'p up the monopoly. r.rhe lo
crs, on the
other hand, not only have, each, luuch less at stake, but arc
nsually igno,.ant that they do lose hy this monopoly; clse
they would not readily subrnit to pay half-a-cro-wn or even one
shilliuO" as a direct JJeliðlon to fiftv InCH who had no claim 011
o r

them.
Again, an English gentlenlan who lives on his estate, is eon-
sidcrcd as a public benefactor, not only by excrting himself-if
he does so-in pron10ting sOluld religion, and pure 11lorality, and
useful knowlcc1ge, in his l1eighbourhood, but also because his
inconle is spcnt in furnishing cl11ploynlent to his neigltbou1"s,
a
dOll1Cstics, and ba.kers, and carpenters, &c. If he re1l10'Tes
and rc
ides in .France, his incornc is, in fact, spent on English
cutlers and clothicrs; sincc it is their products that are exported
to .France, aud virtually exchanged-though in a slightly cir-
cuitous way,-for the sClTices of Frcnch donlcsties, bakers, and
carpenters. But the Sheffield cutlers are not. aware e"Cll of his
pxistencl'; ,,-hilc thc nC'ighbours of thc rcsident proprietor trace
di,tinctIy to hilll the profits they dcrive fron1 him.
.Again, one who unprofitably conSUlncs in feasts, and fire-
works, and fancy..garden
, &c., the labour of nlany men, is re-
gardcd as a puhlic benefactor, in furnishing cmployment to so
JUallY; though it is plain, that all unproducti,'c consu111ptiou
diminishe
by jnst so lnuch of the wealth of the country. lIe,
OIl the contrary, who hoards up his money as a miser, is abused;
though in fact he is (though" ithollt any such design) contri-
buting to the public wealth, hy lending at interest all he saves;
which finds its way, clircctly or indirectly, to canals, eonln1cree,
Inanufaetures, and other producth'e courses of expenditul'c. But
this benefit to the puhlic no one can tr((ce; any nlore than we
can tracc each of th
drops of rain that find their way into the

ca. On the othcr hand, the ach-alltagc to the individuals to
"hom the other is a custoincr, they distinctly trace to hin1.
.Again, the increased knowledge. of 'acci(lents and offences,'
con\eycd through newspapers, in a ci,-ilizcd country, leads SOlne
to fane)" that these cvils OCCllï' JTIore frrqurntly, ùecause they
hcar of thelU lllorp, than in times of ( prin1Ïti, e sÍ1nplicity.' But

34 8

Of Prophecies.

[Essay xxxv,

'there are no more particles of dust in the sun-beanl than in
the rest of the room; though .we see them better.'
All these, and a multitude of other cases, come under the
general formula above stated: the tendency to overrate the
amount of .whatever is seen and known, as compared ,vith ,,-hat
is unkno,vn, or less known, unseen, and indefinite.
Under this head ,vill come the general tendency to under-
rate the preventive effects of any measnre or system, whether
for good or for evil. E.g. in the prevention of crinle, it is
plain that every instance of a crime committed, and of a penalty
actually inflicted, is an instance of failure in the object for
,,,hich penalties ,vere denounced. \Ve see the crimes that do
take place, and the punishments; we do not see the crinles that
would he committed if punishment were abolished.

ESS.A. Y XXX'TI. OF .A"
IBITION.

A l\rnITION is like choler, which is a humour that Inaketh
Blcn active, earnest, full of alacrity, and stirring, if it be
not ..,toppcd; but if it be stopped, alid cannot have its way, it
b
comcth adust/ and thcrcby malign and venonlOUS; so am-
bitious Incn, if they find the way open for their rising, and still
gct forward, tlll'Y are rathcr busy than dangerous; but if they
be chccked ill thcir desires, they become secretly discontent, 2
and look upon men and matters with an evil eye, and are best
pleased when things go back ward; ,vhich is the worst property
in a
erYallt of a prince or State. Therefore, it is good for princes,
if they n
e aIuhitious IHen, to handle it so as they be still })ro-
grc,
i\'e and not l'ctrograde; which, because it cannot be with-
out inconvclliencc, it is good not to use such natures at all; for
if thcy risc not with their service, they will take order 3 to l1lake
theil' service fall "ith thcIn. But since we have said, it wel'e
good not to use men of alnbitious natures, except it be upon
ncccssity, it is fit to speak in what cases they are of necessity.
Good commanders in the wars must be takcn, be they never so
anI bitious; for the use of their service dispenscth 4 with the rest;
and to take a soldier without
ullbitioll is to pun off his spurs.
'There is also grcat use of ambitious men in being screens to
lwillcCS in ffi3.ttcrs of dangcr and envy; for 110 man will take that
part cxccpt he he like a seeled 5 doye, that lllounts and mounts,

1 Adust. Fiery.
, The same adust complexion has impelled
Charles to the convent, Philip to the field/-Pope.
2 Dbcontent. Discontented.
'For e'er with goodness men grow discontent,
'Vhere states are ripe to fall, and virtue spent.'-Daniel.
3 Order. Measures.
'''''hile I take m"del" for mine own affairs/-Skakespere.
4 Dispense with. To excuse.

'To save a brother's life,
Kature dispen-setk with the dced/
6
eel. To seal up the eyes; to lwocllcillk; to blind. (A t('l'm of falconry).
'To seel her father's <')"CS up, close as oak/ -Shalcespere.

35 0

Of Ambition.

[Essay xxx, i.

hecause he cannot see about him. There is use also of am-
bitious Inen in pulling do,vn the greatncss of any subject that
ovcrtops; as Tibcriu.s used l\lacro in the pulling down of
S(>janus. Since, thcrcfore, they nlust be used in such cases,
there resteth l to speak ho,v they are to be bridlcd, that they
may be less dangerous. There is less danger of them, if they
be of lIlean birth, than if they be noble; and if they be rather
barsh of nature, than gracious and popular, and if they be
rather new raised, than grown cUllning 2 and fortified in their
greatness. It is counted by some a "yeakness in princes to have
favourites, but it is, of all othcrs, the best rcnlcdy against am-
bitious great ones; for ,vhen the way of pleasuring 3 and dis-
pleasuring 4 lieth by the fa,.ourite, it is impossible any other
should be over great. Another means to curb them, is to
balance them by others as proud as they; but then there must
be some middle counsellors to keep things steady, for without
that ballast, the ship will roll too much. At the least, a prince
may animate and inure 5 some meaner persons to be scourges to
ambitious men. As for the having of them obnoxious 6 to ruin,
if they be of fearful natures, it may do .well, but if they be
stout aud daring, it 11lay precipitate their designs, and prove
dangerous. As for the pulling of thenl down, if the afiairs
require it, and that it 11lay not be done with safety suddenly,
the only "ray is, the interchange continually of fayours and dis-

1 Rest. To 'remain.

e Fallen he is; and now
""-hat rests but that the mortal sentence pass
On bis transgression.'-.lllilton.
2 Cunning. Experienced; skilful. e Esau was a cunning hunter.'- Gen. xxv. 27.
3 Pleasure (not used as a yerb). To please; to gratify. e Promising both to
give him cattle, and to pleasure him otherwise.'-2 .ZIIaccabees Úi. II.
e Nay, the birds' rural music, too,
Is as melodious and as free
As if they sang to pleasure you.'-Colt'ley.
4 Displeasure. To displease.
5 Inure. To make use of. (From an old word-' ure.') 'Is the warrant
sufficient for any man's conscience to build such proceedings upon, as are and have
been put in ure for the establishment of that cause.'-Hooker.
6 Obnoxious. Liable to; in peril of; subject to.
e But what will not ambition and revenge
Descend to? 'V110 aspires, must down as low
As high }Je soar'd; obnoxious, first or last,
To basest things."' - .2'Iilton.

Essay xxxvi.]

OJ Ambition.

35 1

gl'accs,t whcrcby they Inay not know what to expect, and be, a

it ,,'cre, in a "rood. Of ambitions, it i
less harlnful/ the am-
hition to prcvail in grcat thillg
, than that othpr to appcar in
c\'cry thing; for that brceds confu
ion, and lnar
husincss; but
yet it is less dangcr to havc an aUlhitious man stirring in busi-
ness, than grcat in dependcncics. 3 lIe that sccketh to be
eminent anlongst able nlcn, hath a great task, hut that is evcr
good for the l)ublic; but he that plots to be the only figurc
anlongst cyphers, is the decay of a whole age. IIonour hath
thrcc things in it; the vantage ground to do good, the approach
to kings and principal persons, and the raising of a man's 0" 11
fortuncs. lIe that hath the best of these intentions, ,,'hen he
aspireth, is an honest man; and that prince that can discern of
these intentions in anothcr that aspireth, is a "ise prince.
Gcncrally, let princes and States chuse such ministers as are
more scnsible of duty than of rising, and such as love business
rather upon conscience than upon bravcry;4 and let thcm dis-
cern a busy nature fronl a willing 11lind.

1 Disgraces. A(.18 qf 'Unkind/less; repulses. 'Her disgraces to him were
graced by her exccllence.'-Sh. Philip Sidney.
2 HarmfuL Hu"
fi,l" See page 66.
3 Dependencies. Things 01' pP/"SOïlS .zender command, or at disposal. ' The
second natural <lh'ision of power, is of such men who have acquired large posse8-
s:ons, and consequently, dependencies.'-Slcift.
.. Bravery. Ostentation; parade.
'The brarery of his grief <lid put me into a towering pa
sioll.'-Shakespel'e.

ESSAY XXX'TII. OF i\IASQUESl AND
T R I U l\IP 11 S. 2

T IIESE things are but toys to come amongst such serious
observations; but yet, since princes will have such things,
it is better they should be graced with elegancy/ than daubed
1vith cost. Dancing to song is a thing of great state and
pleasure. I understand it that the song be in quire, placed
aloft, and accompanied with some broken music, and the ditty4
fitted to the device. Acting in song, especially in dialogues,
hath an extreme good gracc- I say acting, not dancing (for
that is a mean and vulgar thing) ; and the voices of the dialogue
would 5 be strong and manly (a bass and a tenor, no treble),
and the ditty high and tragical, not nice 6 or dainty.7 Sevcl'al
quires placed one over against another, and taking the voice
by catches, anthem-,vise,s giye great pleasure. Turning dances
into figure is a childish curiosity; and generally let it be noted,
that those things which I here set do'wn, are such as do na-
turally take the sense, and not respect petty ,,'ondernlents. 9
It is true, the alterations of scenes, so it be quietly and without
noise, are things of great beauty and pleasure; for they feed
and relieye the eye before it be full of the same object. Let

1 IVrasque. A dramatic peiformance on festive occasions. 'Comus. A rWlsq'lle
presented at Ludlow Castle, I Ú 34-'
2 Triumphs. Public Slwws.
, ""'hat news from Oxford? Hold those justs and triumphs ?'-Shakespcre.
3 Elegancy. Elegance. 'St. Augmstine, out of a kind of elegancy in writing,
makes some difference.' -Raleigh.
4 Ditty. A poem to be sung. (Now ouly used in burlesque.)
':l\Ieanwhile, the rural ditties were not mute,
Tempered to the oaten fiute.'-.21Iilton.
5 "... ould. Slwuld. See page 296.
6 Nice. Minutely accurate.
, The letter was not nice, but full of charge
Of dear import.'-Slwkespere.
i Dainty. Affectedly fine.
, Your dainty speakers have the curse,
To plead bad causes down to worse.' - Prior.
8 'Vise. Trays; manner m' mode. (Seldom now used as a simple word.)
'This song she sings in most commanding wise.'-Spenser.
9 'V onderment. Astonishment; s'll1"ju'ise.
, Ravished with Fancy's 'tvoJlderment.'-Spenser.

Essay x"(x\ ii.]

Of JJIasques and Triumplls.

353

the scenes abound ,vith light, especially coloured and varied;
and let the ma
quers, or any other that are to come down fronl
thc scene, have some Illations upon the scene itself before their
conting down; for it draws the eye strangely, and makes it
'with great pleasure to desire to see thae it cannot perfectly
discern. Let the songs be loud and cheerful, and not chirping'"
or pulings;2 let the music likewise be sharp and loud, and well
placed. The colours that show best by candle-light are white,
carnation, and a kind of sea-water green; and ouches/ or
spangs/ as they are of no great cost, so they are of most glory.5
As for rich emhroidery, it is lost and not discerned. Let the
suits of the masq uers be graceful, and such as become the person
when the vizards/) are oft
not after exanlples of known attires,
Turks, soldiers, mariners, and the like. Let anti-masques 7 not
be long; they have been commonly of fools, satyrs, baboons,
wild men, antics,s beasts, sprites/ witches, Æthiopes,lO pigmies,

1 That. What. See page 59.
2 Puling. JVltining.
'To speak puling, like a beggar at Halimass/-Shakespere.
3 Ouches. Ornaments cif gold in u'hich jewels may be set. 'Thou shalt make the
two stones to be set in ouches of gold.'-Exodus xxviii. I I.
ot Spangs. Spangles.

, A vesture sprinkled, here and there,
With glitt'ring spangs that did like stars appere.' -Spenser.
5 Glory. Lustre.
'The moon, serene in glory/-Pope.
I Vizard-Visor. .Å mask used to diyguise. ' A lie is like a vizard, that muy
cover the face, indeed, but can never become it.'-South.
7 Anti-masques. Short masques, or ligltt inte'þ'ludes, played between the parts
of the principal ma.
ques.
8 Antics. Buffoons.
, If you should smile, he grows impatient,-
Fe.lr not, my Lord; we can contain ourselves,
',"ere he the veriest anticlc in the world.'-Shakespere.
'Within the hollow crown
That round:; tIle mortal temples of a king,
Keeps Death his court: and t1lere the anlick sits
Scoffing his statc.'-Shakespere.
9 Sprites. Spirits.
'And forth he call'd out of deep darkness drear
Legions of sprites.'-Spenser.
'Of these am I who thy protection claim,
A watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name.'-Pope.
10 Ethiops. Etltiopians; blacks.
, Since her time colliers are counted fair,
And Ethiops of their sweet complexion crack.'-Skakespere.
-r AA

354

Of Masques and Triumphs.

[Essay xxxvii.

turquets, l nymphs, rustics, Cupids, statues moving, and the like.
As for angels, it is not con1icai 2 enough to put them in anti-
masques; and anything that is hideous, as devils, giants, is, on
the other side, as unfit; but chiefly, l{:t the music of them be
recreative, anù with some strange changes. Some sweet odours
suddenly coming forth, ,vithout any drops falling, are, in such
a company, as there is steam and heat, things of great pleasure
and refreshment. Double masques, one of men, another of
ladies", addeth state and variety; but all is nothing, except the
room be kept clear and neat.
For justs, and tournies/ anfl barriers, the glories 4 of them
are chiefly in the chariots, wherein the challengers make their
entry, especially if they be dra\\n with strange beasts, as lions,
bears, camels, and the like; or, in the devices of their entrance,
or in bravery5 of their liveries, or in the goodly furniture of
their horses and armour. But enough of these toys.

ANKOTATIONS.

t These things are hut toys .

Lord Bacon seems to think some kind of apology necessary
for treating of matters of this kind in the midst of grave
treatises. But his taste seems to have lain a good deal this ,yay.
lIe is reported to have always shown a great fondness for
splendour and pageantry, and everything that could catch the

1 Turquets. (Probably) Turks.
2 Comical. Comic.
3 Tourneys. Tournament.
, Not but Ule mode of tlmt romantic age,
The age of tourneys, trinmphs, and quaint masques,
Glared with fantastic pngeantry which dimmed
,!'he sober eye of truth, and dazzled e'en
The sage himself.' - Mason.
4 Glory. Splendo1lr; magnificence. 'Solomon, in all 11is glory, was not arrayed
1ike one of tl1ese.'-Matihew.
5 Brayery. Finery. 'In that day thc Lord will take away the bravery of their
tiukling ornamcnts about their feet.'-Isaiah iii. 18.
, A stately ship, with all her bravery on,
And tackle trim/-Milton.

ES3a Y xxx \.ii. ]

Annotations.

355

cye and Inake a display of "\rcalth and magnificence. This may
be accounted, in sllch a great plÛlosoplwr, somcthing frh'olous.
It is worth remarking that the tertn 'frivolous' is always ap-
plied (by those who use language with care and correctness) to
a grcat intercst shown about things that are little to the person
in question. For, little and great,-trifling or important,-
are relative terIns. If a grown man or .woman were to be
occupied with a doll, this "\\'ould be called excessively frivolous;
but no one calls a little girl frivolous for playing with a doll.

A _\ 2

ESSAY XXXVIII. OF NATURE IN l\IEN.

N ATURE is often hidden, sometimes overcome, seldom ex-
tinguished. Force maketh nature more violent in the
return, doctrine and discourse maketh nature less importune/
but custum only doth alter find subdue nature. lIe that seeketh
victory oyer his nature, let him not set hÜnself too great nor
too small tasks; for the first will make him dejected by often
failing, and the second will make him a small proceeder, though
by often prevailing. And, at the first, let him practise with helps,
as swimrners do with bladders or rushes; but, after a time, let
him practise with disadvantages, as dancers do with thick shoes,
for it breeds great perfection if the practice be harder than the
use. "There nature is mighty, and therefore the victory hard,
the degrees had need be, first to stay and arrest nature in time;
(like to him that 'would say over the four-and-twenty letters
when he was angry) then to go less in quantit)..; as if one should,
in forbearing 'wine, come fron1 drinking healths to a draught at
a meal; and, lastly, to discontinue altogether; but if a man
have the fortitude and resolution to enfranchise himself at once,
that is the best :-
, Optimus i1le animi vindex, Iædentia pectus
Vincula qui rupit, dedoluitque semel.' 2
Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend nature as a wand, to
a contrary extreme" whereby to set it right; understanding it
where the contraryextrelne is no vice. Let not a man force a
habit upon himself ,vith a perpetual continuance, but with some
intermission, for both the pause reinforceth the new onset; and
if a Ulan that is not perfect be eyer in practice, he shall as well
practise his errors as his abilities, and induce one l1abit of
both, and there is no means to help this but by seasonable
intermission. But let not a n1an trust his victory over his nature
too far, for nature will lie huried a great time, and yet reviye
upon the occasion or temptation; like as it was ,vith Æsop's

1 Importune. Importunate; troublesome. See page 79'
I 'He is the best assertor of the soul, who bursts the bonds that gall his breast,
and suffers all
at once.-'-Ovid l R. A.mor. 293,

Essay xxxviii.]

OJ J.\Tature in Jlen.

357

(Iamsel, turned fronl a cat to a WOlnan, ,,,ho sat yery demurely
at the board's end till a mouse ran before her; therefore, let a
lnall cithcr a,-oid the occasion altogether, or put himself often
to it, that he n1ay be little moved with it. A man's nature is
best perceived in privateness/ for there is no affectation in
passion; for that putteth a man out of his preccpts, and in a
llew case or experirnent, for thcre custom lea\'eth hÜn. They
are happy men whose natures sort 2 with their vocations/ other-
,,'ise they may say, '1\f ultum incola fuit anima mea,'4 when
they con"erse 5 in those things they do not affeet. 6 In studies,
whatsoe,'er a man commandeth upon himself, let bim set hours
for it; but whatsocver is agreeable to his nature, let him take
no care for any set tilnes; for his thoughts will fly to it of
themscl \'es, so as the spaf'es of other business or studies ,vill
suffice. .A man's nature runs either to herbs or weeds; there-
fore let him seasonably ,vater the one, and destroy the other.

A...
TITHET.A. O
NATURE I
)IEX.

PRO.
(Consuetudo contra naturam, quasi
t) rannis quædam est; et cito, ac lcvi
occa.
ione corruit.
, Custom, v...ll,en contrary to ll.atw'e,
is a kind of 'Usurpation over it; and is
quickly overthrown Ot
the mo.<;t trifling
occasion.'

COXTRA.
C Cogitamus spcundum naturam; 10-
quimur secundum præcepta; sed agimus
secundum consuetuùinem.
c 1Ve tlânk aecordin!} to our nature;
we spealc according to instruction; but
tee act according to custom.'

1 Privateness. PI'ivacy. See page 87. 2 ::5ort, Suit. See page 58.
3 \r ocation. Call lit!} in life. See page 19.
.. 'My soul has been long- a sojom'ner.'
i Converse. To nal:e one's way of life in. See Comrersation, page 24.8. ' Let
your conversation be as becometh the Gospel of Christ.'-Phil. i, 27,
, Octavia is of a holy and still conve1'sation.' -Shakespere.
fI .\ffect. To like,
, Dost thou affect her ?'-Snakespere.

35 8

Of J:..rature in Men.

[Essay xxxxiii.

ANNOTATIONS.

'A fìzan's nature is best perceived in privateness; . VI
paSSlon: . . . . . and in a ne
o case or experiment.'

'1'0 this excellent list of things that show nature, Bacon
might have added, small things rather than great. 'A straw
best shows ho,v the ,rind blows.' The most ordinary and un-
important actions of a Inan's life "rill often sho,v more of his
natural character and his habits, than more important actions
which are done deliberately, and sometimes aga-inst his natural
inclinations.

, A ulan's nature 'runs either to herbs or weeds: therefore let ltirn
seasonably water the one and destroy the other.'

There are some considerations "rith regard to human nature,
unnoticed by Bacon, which are very important, as involving the
absolute necessity of great watchfulness, candour, and diligence,
in those .who would, indeed, desire to 'destroy the ".eeds.'
Human nature (as I have observed in a former ,york) is always
and everywhere." in the most important points, substantially the
same; circumstantially and externally, men's manners and
conduct are infinitely various in various times and regions. If
the fornler ,vere not true,-if it were not for this fundamental
agreement,-history could furnish no instruction; if the latter
,vere not true,-if there ,,'ere not these al)parent and circum-
stantial differences,-hardly anyone could fail to profit by that
instruction. For, few are so dull as not to learn something
from the records of past experience in cases precisely similar to
their own. But as it is, much candour and diligence are called
for in tracing the analogy between cases 'rhich, at the first glance,
seem very different-in observing the workings of the same
human nature uuder all its various disguises,-in recognizing,
as it were, the same plant in different stages of its growth, and
in all the varieties resulting from climate and culture, soil and
season. For, so far as any fault or fol1y is peculiar to any
particular age or country, its effects may be expected to pass
a,vay soon, without spreading very widely; but so far as it

Essay xxx,'iii ]

Annotations.

359

belongs to lunnan nature in general, "'C must expect to find the
evil effects of it reappearing, again and agaiu, in various forms,
in all ages, and in various regions. Plants brought from a
foreign land, and cultivated by hUlnan care, may often be, by
hUlnan care, extirpated, or mar even perish for 'leant of care;
but the indigenous product of the soil, e'-en when seeming]y
eradicated, will again and again be found springing up afresh:

, Sponte su! qum se tollunt ill luminis oras
Infecunda quidem, sed Iæta ct fortia surgunt,
Quippe solo natura subest.'

If we would be reaHy safe frolll the danger of committing
faults of a like character with those which we regard with
abhorrence in men removed from us either by time or place, we
must seek that safety in a vigilant suspicion of the human heart.
\Ye can be secured from the recnrrence of similar faults in somp
different shapes, only by the sedulous cultivation of that chris-
tian spirit, ,,,hose implantation is able to purify, to renovate, to
convert that nature-in short, to {CRE.ATE THE NE"r )IAN.'
Christian principle only can overthrow the {idols of the race'
(idola tribus), as Bacon elsewhere calls them ;-the errors spring-
ing out of man's nature.

ESSAY XXXIX. OF CUSTO
I AND
EDUCA'TION.

l\ If EN'S thoughts are much according to their inclination;
1
.l. their discourse and speeches according to their learning
and infused opinions; but their deeds are after l as 2 they have
been accustomed: and, therefore, as l\1:achiavel well noteth
(though in an evil-favoured instance), there is no trusting to the
force of nature, nor to the bravery of words, except it be corro-
borate 3 by custom. His instance is, that for the achieving of
a desperate conspiracy, a man should not l 1 est upon the fierce-
ness of any nlan's nature, or his resolute undertakings, but take
such a one as hath had his hands formerly in blood: but

Iachiavel knew not of a friar Clement, nor a Ravillac, nor
a Jaureguy, nor a Baltazar Gerard j yet his rule holdeth still,
that nature, nor the engagement of ,,'ords, are noe so forcible
as custom. Only superstition is no,v so ,yell advanced, that
men of the first blood are as firm as butchers by occupation;
and vot ary 5 resolution is Dlade equipollent to custom, even in
matter of blood. III other things, the predonlÎnancy of custom
is everywhere visible, insomuch as a Ulan would ,yonder to hear
nlen profess, protest, engage, give great words, and then do just
as they have done before, as if they ".ere dead images and
engines, moved only by the wheels of custom. \Ye see also the
reign or tyranny of custom, what it is. The Indians (I mean
the sect of their ,vise rnen) lay themselves quietly upon a stack
of wood, and so sacrifice t11emselves by fire: nay, the wives

1 After. According to. 'That "J'e seek not after your own heart.'-.Nilm. xv. 39,
'He who was of the bondwoman was born after the flesh.'-Gal. iv. 23. 'Deal
not with us after our sins.'-Litaflg.
2 As. Tltat. See page 22.
3 Corroborate. Corroborated; strengthened; made firm.
, His heart is corroborate.' -Shakespere.
. Nor-Are not. This double negative is used frequently by old writers.
, ].Tor to no Roman eI8e.'-Sltake8pere.
, Anot1ler sort there be, tllat will
Be talking of the fairies still,
It-or never can they have their fill.'-.Drayton.

V otnry. Consecrated by a vow,

Essay xxxix.]

Of Gus/oln and Education.

3 61

strive to ùe l)urned with thc corpse of their husbands. The
lads of Sparta,t of ancicnt titne, were wout to be scourged upon
the altar of Diana} .without so lnuch as quechillg. 2 I relnelnber,
ill the begiuuillg of Queen Elizabeth's tin1e of Englaud, an
Irish rcbel cOlldplluled, put up a petition to the deputy that he
luight be hanged in a withe/ and not in a halter, because it
had been :::;0 used with fornlel' l'ebels. There be monks ill
Itussia, for penance, that will sit a whole night in a yessel of
water, till they be engaged with hard ice.

Iany ex.amples lllay be put of the force of custom, both upon
mind and body: therefore, since custom is the principal magis-
trate of n1an's life, let nlcn by an means endeayour to obtain good
custonlS. Certainly, custOlll is Inost perfect when it beginlleth
ill young years: this" e call education, which is, iu effect} but an
early custom. So we see in languages, the tone is more pliant to
all expressions and sounds, the joints are nlore supple to all feats
of activity and nlotions in youth, than afterwards; for it is true,
the late lcarners cannot so well take up the ply, except it be in
some minds, that have not suffered thenlselves to fix, but ha,-e
kept thenlSeh"es open and prepared to receiye continual amend-
ment, which is exceeding rare: but if the force of custom,
sinlple and separate, be great, the force of custonl, copulate and
conjoined, and collegiate, is far greater; for there exanlple
teacheth, com pany comfortetll, 4 enl ulation quickeneth, glory
raiseth; so as in such places the force of custom is in his 5
exaltation. Certainly, the great Dlultiplicatiou 6 of virtues upon
Inunall nature resteth upon societies well ordained and dis-

I Cic. Tuscul. IJial. ii. 14.
"2 Quech (properly quich). To m01-'t'; to stir.
C U nderre her feet, there as she sate,
An huge great lyon laye, that mote appalle
An hardy conrnge; like capth cd thrall
'Yith a strong iron chain and collar bounde-
N ot once he could nor move nor quick.' -Spenser.
3 "Tiths. Tu.'igs, or bands of tu-,'igs. C If they bind me with seven green willis,
then shall I be weak.' -Judges xvi. 7.
.4.Comfort: To strengthen as an auxiliary; to help. (The meaning of the

rlgm.ll . Latll
word, C01ifurto.) C X ow we c
hort ,you, brethren, comfort the
feeùle-ml
llled. - I Thess. v. 14.
I) H:s. It.y. C But G.)d giveth it a b3dy as it hath pleased Him, and to every

ced hts own bodY.'-1 Cor. xv. 3 8 .
6 ::\Iultiplication upon. C Incrc.lsc and multiplg 'Upon us thy ll:ercy.'-Collecl for
tle -1.1h SIInday afL1. TJ"i,titg.

3 62

OJ Custorn and Education.

[Essay xxxix.

ciplined; for common,vealths and good governments do nourish
virtue grown, but do not much mend the seeds: but the n1Ïsery
is, that the most effectual means are now applied to the ends
least to be desired.

ANKOTATIONS.

,
fen's thoughts are rllllclt according to their inclinations: tlleir
discourse and speeches according to their learning and infused
opinions, but their deeds are after as they have been
accustol'ned.'

This remark, like many others, Bacon has conòensed in
Latin into the very brief and pithy apophthegm ,vhich I haye
given in the 'Anti theta on Nature in l\Ien.' , Cogitamus
secundunl naturam; loquilllur secundum præcepta; sed agimus
secundum consuetudinenl.' Of course, Bacon did not mean his
,vords to be taken literally in their utmost extent, and without
any exception or modification; as if natural disposition and
instruction had nothing to do with conduct. And, of course,
he could not mean anything so self-contradictory as to say
that all action is the result of custom: for it is plain that,
in the first instance, it must be by actions that a custom is
formed.
But he uses a strong expression, in order to impress it on
our mind that, for practice, cnstoIll is the most essential thing,
and that it will often overbear both the original disposition, and
the precepts which have been learnt: that ,,,hatever a man may
ilHvardly think, and (with perfect sincerity) say, you cannot
fully depend on his conduct till you kno,v how he has been
accustorned to act. For, continued action is like a continued
stream of ,vater, which wears for itself a channel that it will
not easily be turned from. The bed which the current had
gradually scooped at first, afterwards confines it.
Bacon is far from meaning, I conceive, when he says that
, men speak as they have learned' -to limit himself to the case
of insincere professions; but to point out how much easier it is
to learn to repeat a lesson correctly, than to bring it into
practice, 'when custom is opposed to it.

ay xxxix.]

Annotations.

3 6 3

This is thc dOf'trine of one whom Bacon did not certainly
regard with any unduc veneration-Aristotle; WlIO, in his Ethics,
dwc11s earnestly on the importance of being early accustomed to
Tight praeticc, with a vicw to the fornlation of virtuous habits.
Aud he dcri,'es the word' cthics' from a Greek word signifying
custom; cven as the word 'morality' is derived from the eor-
rcsponding Latin word 'mos.'
It is to bc obsen'ed that at the present day, it is common to
use the words ' custom' and 'habit' as synonymous, and often
to employ the latter whcre Bacon ,,'ould haye used the former.
But, strictly speaking, they denote respecti,.ely the cause and
the effect. Repcatcd acts constitute the (custom;' and the
'habit' is the condition of Inind or body thence rcsulting. For
instance, a nlall who has been accllstOJned to rise at a certain
hour) will have acquired the habit of waking and being ready to
rise as soon as that hour arrives. And one who has nlade it
his Cll:-JtOJJt to eh-ink drams will have fallen into the habit of
craving for that stimulus, and of yielding to that craying; and
so of the rest.
Those are, then, in error who disparage (as 1\lrs. Hannah

Iore docs) all practice that does not spring from a formed
hahit. For instance, they censure those who employ children
as almoners, handing them money or other things to relieve the
poor with. }1"or, say they, no one can git'e what is not his own:
there is no charity unless you part with something that you
might have kept, and which it is a self-denial to part with. The
answer is, that if the child does this readily and gladly, he has
already learnt the virtue of charity; but if it is a painful self-
denial which you urge him to, as a duty, you are creating an
association of charity with pain. On the contrary, if you
accustolll hinl to the pleasure of seeing distress relieved, and of
being the instrument of giving plea
ure, and doing good, the
desire of this gratification will lead him, afterwards, to part ,,'ith
something of his own rather tllan forego it. Thus it is-to use
IIorace's coulparison-that the young hound is trained for thp
chasc in the woods, from the tillle that he barks at the deer-
skin in the hall. 1

. . . . . . . 'Venaticus, ex quo
Tempore cervinam pe1Jam Jatravit in aula,
l\lilitat in silvis catulus.'-lIorace, Book i. ep. 2, 1. 65-

3 6 4

Of CustO'n't and Education.

[Essay xxxix.

The precept is very good to begin with s\vimn1Îng with corks.
There is an error somewhat akin to the one I have been com-
bating, which may be w.orth noticing here. Declalllations are
current in the present day against the iniquity of gi, Íug a bias
to the minds of young persons, by teaching them our own inter-
pretation of the sacred volume, instead of leaving thelTI to in-
vestigate for themsehTes; that is, against cndeayouring to place
them in the same situation with those to whom those very
Scripturcs ,vere written; instead of leaving them to struggle
,,,ith difficulties lrhich the Scriptures no,vhere conten1plate or
provide against. The maintainers of such a prinriple would do
,veIl to consider, \vhether it would not, if consistently pursued,
prove too much. Do you not, it might be asked, bias the minds
of children by putting into their hands the Scril)tures thcmselyes,
as the infallible "Tord of God ? If you arc convinced that they
are so, you must be sure that they ,viII stand the test of Ull-
prejudiced inquiry. Are you not, at least, bound in fairness to
teach tlJem at the same tÌlne, the systems of ancient mythology,
the doctrines of the Koran, and those of modern philosophers,
that they may freely chuse amongst all? Let anyone ,,-ho is
disposed to deride the absurdity of such a proposal, consider
whether there is any objection to it, which ,,'ould not equally
lie against the exclusion of systematic religious instruction, or
indeed, systen1atic training in any science or art. It would
follow from this princil)le, tllat no physician should be trusted
who is not utterly indifferent whether his patient recovers or dies,
and ,,-110 is not ,vholly free from any favourable hope from tbe
mode of treatment pursued.

C The predonlÏnancy of custom is et'C'rywlLCre visible; insomuch
as a 1nan would wonder to l1ea r r ?nen profess, p1
otest, engage,
give great
vords, and then do just as they ha'Ce done before;
as if they were dead Ï1nages and engines, moved only by
the 'lvheels of custoln.'
This (predon1inancy of custom' is remarkably exemplified in
the case of soldiers wbo haye long been habituated to obey, as
if by a mechanical impulse, the word of command.
It happened, in the case of a contemplated insurrection in a
certain part of the British En11Jirc, that the plotters of it sought

ar xxx.i
.]

Annotations.

3 6 5

to tanlpcr with the solùiers who ,vere likely to be called out
against thcm; and, for this purpose, fl'cqucnted the public-
houses to which the soldiers resorted, and drew them into con-
ver
ation. Iteports of these attempts reached the officers; who,
ho,\ e,?cr, found that so little impression was made that they did
not think it necùful to take any notice of them. On one occa-
sion it appeared that a sergeant of a Scotch l'egiment ,vas so far
talked oyer as to feel aud c
press grcat synlpathy with the
agitators, on account of their alleged grievances, as laid before
him by the seducer. ' "r cel, now, I did na ken that; indeed
that secnlS unco hard; I can na wonder that ye should complain
0' that,' &c., &c.
The other, seeking to follow up his blow, then said-' I
suppose now such honest fellows as you, if you were to be
caned out against us, when we were dri, en to rise in a good
cause, would neyer ha,
e the heart to fire on poor fellows who
,,-ere only seeking liberty and justice.' The sergeant replied
(just as he was l'eacbing down his cap and belt, to return to
barracks), , I'd just na advise ye to try /'
lIe felt conscious-misled as he had been respecting the
justice of the cause,-that, ,,-hatever might be his priyate
opinions and inward feelings, if the word of command were
given to 'make ready, present, fire,' he should instinctively
obey it.
And this is very much the case ,yith anyone who has been
long drillcd in the Tanks of a parrty. \Yhatever may be his
natural disposition-whatever may be the judgment his unbiassed
understanding dictates on any point-whatever he may inwardly
feel, and may (with perfcct sincerity) have said, WbCll you come
to action, it is lilu\]y that the habit of going along with 11Ïs
party will prcyail. Aud the more.. general and indefinite the
purpose for "hich the party, or society (or by whatever name it
may be called) is framed, and the less distinctly specified are its
objects, the morc will its mcnlbcrs bc, usually, under the con-
trol and dircction of its lead
l's.
I was OllCC cOllyer::;ing with an intelligent and libcral-minded
man, who was cxpressing his strong disapprobation of some late
decisions and proceedings of the leading persons of the Society
be belongcd to, and a
suring nle that the greatcr part of the
3ubordinates rcgarded them as 'wrong and unjustifiable. ' But,'

3 66

OJ Cuslonl and Education.

[Essay xxxix.

said I, (they ,vill nevertheless, I suppose, con1ply, and act as
they are required ?' 'Oh, yes, they rnust do that !'
Of course, there are many various degrees of partisanship, as
there are also different degrees of cust0l11 in all other things:
and it is not meant that all who are in any degree connected
with any party n1ust be equally deyoted adherents of it. But I
am speaking of the tendency of party-spirit, and describing a
party-rnan so far fortlt as he is such. And persons of much ex-
perience in human affairs lay it down accordingly as a maxim,
that you should be yery cautious how you fully trust a party-
man, however sound his own judgment, and however pure the
principles on which he acts, ,vhen left to himself. A sensible'
and upright man, ,,,ho keeps hin1self quite unconnected ,,'ith
party, may be calculated on as likely to act on the views which
you have found hÍ1n to take on each point. In some things,
perhaps, you find him to differ from you; in others to agree;
but ,vhen )
OU have learnt what his sentiments are, you know in
each case what to expect. But it is not so 'with one who is
connected ,vith, and consequently controlled by, a party. In
proportion as he is so, he is not fully his own master; and in
some instances you will probably find hiln take you quite by
surprise, by assenting to some course quite at variance .with the
sentiments which you have heard him express-probably with
perfect sincerity-as his own. "Then it comes to action, a
formcd habit of follo,ving the party will be likely to prevail over
e\
erything. At least, , I'd just na advise ye to try /'
It is irnportant to keep in Inind that-as is evident from
what has been said just above-hahits are formed, not at one
stroke, but gradually and insensibly; so that unless vigilant
care be employed, a great change may come over the character
without our being conscious of any. For, as Dr. Johnson has
well expressed it, 'The dinlÏnutive chains of habit are selùom
heavy enough to be felt, till they are too strong to be broken.'
And this is often strongly exemplifieò in the case just
adverteù to-that of party-spirit. It is not often that a man,
all at once, resolves to join himself to a l)arty; but he is drawn
in by little and little. Party is like one of those perilous
,vhil'lpools sOll1etinles n1ct "ith at sea. 'V hen a vessel reaches
the outer edge of one of theIn, the current moves so slowly,
and with so little of a curve, that the mariners may be uncon-

Essay xxxix.]

Annotations.

3 6 7

scions of moving in any CUITC at all, or even of any motion
whatc\ycr. But each circuit of the spiral increascs the velocity,
and gradually incrcascs the cur\ye, and brings the vesscl nearer
to thc ccntrc. .L\.lld pcrhaps this rapiù motion, and the direction
of it, are for the first time percei\yed, when the force of the
current has become irresistible.
Some, no doubt, there \vere, of those who originally joined
the Association callcel ' United Irishn1en,' who, entertaining no
evil designs, wcre scduced by 8pccious appearances and fair
professions, and did not enough consider that when once em.
barked on the stream of Party, no one can be sure ho\v far he
n1ay ultimately be carried. They found thelllselves, doubtless
n10st uncxpectedly to many of them, engaged in an attempted
revolution, and partners of men in actual rebellion.
No doubt many did dra\v back, though not without difficulty,
anel danger, and shame, when they perceived whither they were
being hurricd; though it is also, I think, highly probable that
many werc prevented by that difficulty and shame from stopping
short and turning back in time; and having 'stepped in so
far,' persevered in a course which, if it had been originally
proposed to them, they would have shrunk from with horror,
saying, 'Is thy servant a dog that he should do this great
thing ?'
, It is true that a man 'may, if he will, \vithc1raw fron1, and
disown, a party which he had formerly be]ongeil to. But this
is a stC'p which requires no small degree of moral courage.
...<\.nd not only are we strongly tcmpted to shrink from taking
such a step, but also our dread of doing so is likely rather to
n1islead our reason, than to overpower it. A 111an ,,-ill 'wish to
think it justifiable to adhere to the party; and this wish is
likely to hias his judglnent, rather than to prevail on him to
act contrary to llÍs judgment. For, we kno\v how much the
judglllCnt of 111en is likely to be biassed, as 'well as how much
they are ten1ptcd to acquiesce in s01l1ething against their judg-
ment, whcn earnestly pressed by the majority of those who
are acting with them,-whom they look up to,-,,-hose appro-
bation encourages them,-aud wh08e censure they cannot but
dread.
'Soine doctrine, supposc, is promulgated, or measure pro-
posed, or mode of procedure commenced, which some members

3 68

OJ Custorn and Education.

[Essay xxxix.

of a party do not, in their unbiassed judgment, approve. But
anyone of them is disposed, first to wish, then to hope, and
lastly to believe, that those are in the right whom he would be
sorry to think wrong. And again, in any case where his judg-
ment may still be unchanged, he may feel that it is but a slnall
concession he is called on to make, and that there are great
benefits to set against it; and that, after all, he is perhaps
called on merely to acquiesce silently in ,vhat he does not quite
approve; and, he is loth to incur censure, as lukewarm in the
good canse,-as presulnptuous,-as unfriendly towards those
who are acting ,vith him. To be 'a breaker up of the Club'
(
Ta(p(aç
(aÀvT1Jç) was a reproach, the dread of which, we learn.
from the great historian of Greece, carried much ,veight with
it in the transactions of the party-warfare he is describing.
And we may expect the like in all sin1Îlar cases.
'One may sometimes hear a person say in so many words-
though far oftener, in his conduct-' It is true I do not alto-
gether approve of such and such a step; but it is insisted on
as essential by those who are acting ,vith us; and if ,ve ,vere
to hold out against it, we should lose their co-operation; which
would be a most serious evil. There is nothing to be done,
therefore, but to comply."

, Certainly custoln is most perfect when it beginneth in young
years: this we call education, 'which is, in effect, hut an early
custom.'

Education may be compared to the grafting of a tree. Every
gardener knows that the younger the ,vilding-stock is that is to
be grafted, the easier and the :more effectual is the operation,
because, then, one scion put on just above the root, will become
the main stem of the tree, and all the branches it puts forth
váU be of the right sort. 'Yhen, on the other hand, a tree is
to be grafted at a considerable age ("rhich may be ycry success-
fully done), you have to put on twenty or thirty grafts on the
several branches; and afterwards you ,viII have to be watching
from time to time for the wilding-shoots .which the stock "Till
be putting forth, and pruning them off. And even so, one
whose character is to be reforuled at mature age, .will find it
necessary not merely to implant a right principle once for all,

Essay xxxix.]

Annatations.

3 6 9

but abo to hestow a distinct attention on the correction of this,
that, and the other, bad hahit.
It i
wondcrful that so lnany pcrsons should confound to-
gether being accustorlled to certain objects, and accustomed to
a ccrtain mode of acting. ....\.ristotle, on the contrary, justly
ren1arks that opposite habits are formed by means of the same
things (EK T(f)V UVTWJ', Kat
(a TWJ' aVTWI') treated in opposite
ways; as, for instance, humanity and inhumanity-by being
accustomed to the view of suffering, with and without the effort
to relieve it. Of two persons who have been accustomed to
the sight of nluch human n1Ïsery, one who has been used to
pass it by without any effort to relieve it, will become careless
and hardened to such spectacles; while another, who has been
in the practice of relieving sufferers, ,,-ill acquire a strong habit
of endeavouring to afford relief. These t,vo persons ,,,ill both
have bcen accustomed to the same objects, but will have
acquired opposite habits, from being accustomed to act in oppo-
site '\Va ys.
Suppose that there is in your neighbourhood a loud bell that
is rung very early every morning to call the labourers in SOllIe
great manufactory. .At first, and for some time, rour rest '\Vill
he broken by it; but if you accustom yourself to lie still, anc1
try to compose yoursel
you will becon1e in a few days so llsed
to it, that it will not e\-en wake you. But anyone who lllakes
a point of rising immediately at the call, will become so used
to it in the opposite way, that the sound "Will never fail to rouse
him fl'on1 the deepest slecp. Both will ha,-e been accustomed
to the sall1e bell, but will have fornled opposite habits from their
contrary lIlodes of actioll.
Aud we may see the same thing even in the training of brute
anin1als. For instance, of sporting dogs, there are SOllle, such
as tlH
greyhound, that are trained to pursue hares; and others,
which are trained to stand motionless when they come upon a
hare, e"Cll though they see it running before them. Now, both
kinds arc accustomed to hares; and both have originally the
saIne instincts; for all dogs have an instinctive tendency to
pursue ganle. But thc one kind of dog has always been en-
couraged to run after a hare, and the other has alwavs been
chastised if it attempts to do so, and has been trained to stand
still.

37 0

OJ Custorn and Education.

[Essay xxxix.

But it must not he forgotten tl)at education resembles the
grafting of a tree in this point also, that there must be some
atfinity between the stock and the graft, though a very important
practical difference may exist; for exalnple, between a ,yorthless
crab, and a fine apple. Even so, the ne"
nature, as it may be
called, superinduced by eùucation, must ah, ays retain some
relation to the original one, though differing in most important
points. You cannot, by any kind of artificial training, make
any thing of anyone, and obliterate all trace of tIle natural
character. Those who hold that this is possible, and attempt
to effect it, resemble 'Tirgil who (whether in ignorance or, as
some think, by way of 'poetical licence') talks of grafting an
oak on an elm: 'glandesque sues fregere sub ulmis.'
One of Doctor J 0hnson's paradoxes, more popular in his time
than now, but far from being no,v exploded, ,vas, that a given
amount of ability nlay be turned in any direction, 'even as a
nlan may ,,,alk this way or that.' And so he can; because
walking is the action for which the legs are fitted; but though
he Inay use his e
Tes for looking at this object or that, he cannot
hear with his eyes, or see with his ears. And the eyes and
ears are not more different than, for instance, the poetical faculty,
and the mathematical. 'Oh, but if
Ii1ton had turned his
mind to mathematics: and if N e,vton had turned his mind to
poetry, the former Inight have been the great mathematician,
and the latter the great poet.' This is open to the proyerbial
reply, 'If nlY aunt had been a man, she 1fould have been my
uncle.' For the supposition iUlplied in these ifs is, that l\Iilton
and Newton should have been quite different characters from
.what they were.

. . . Minds that have not suflered the'lnselves to fix, hut have
kept thelìlselves open and prepared to 'receive continual
arnendnl-ent,
vhiclt is e:L'ceeding ra're.'

And as admirable as it is rare. Such nlillds may indeed
print their ol)iniolls, but do not stereotype them. N or does the
self-distrust, the perpetual care, the diligent watchfulness, the
openness to conviction, the exercise of ,vhich is implied in
.Bacon's description, necessarily involve a state of painful and
unceasing doubt. For, in proportion as a n1an is ,yatchfully

Essay xxxix.]

J.4nnotations.

37 1

and prayerfully on his guard against the unseen current of
passions and prejudices, which is ever tending to drive him out
of the right course, in the same degree he will have reason for
cherishing an humble hope that He, the Spirit of Truth, is, and
will be, "ith him, to enlighten his understanding, to guide his
conduct, and to lead him onwards to that state in which Faith
shall be succeeded by sight, and Hope by enjoyment.

, The force of custom, copulate and conjoined, and collegiate,
is far greater.'

For this reason it is, that what is said or done by very inferior
persons, is the best sign of "hat is cO/Jllltonly said or done in
the place and time in which they li,'e. A man of resolute cha-
racter, and of an original turn of thought, being more likely
to resist this force of ' copulate and collegiate custom' does not
furnish so good a sign of 'what are the prt:vailing opinions and
customs. Hence the proverb:

C A straw best shows
How the wind blows.'

1\ bar of heavy metal would not be perceptibly influenced by
the wind.

I wish I could feel justified in concluding this head
ithout
saying anything of Bacon's own character ;-without holding
him up as himself a lamentable exarnple of practice at variance
with good sentiments, and sound judgment, and right precepts.
He thought ,,'ell, and he spoke well; but he had accustomed
himself to act very far from well. .A.nd justice requires that
he should be held up as a warning beacon to teach all men an
inlportant lesson; to afford them a
ad proof that no intellectual
po"er-no extent of learnillg,-not even the most pure and
exalted nloral :sentiments, confined to theory, will supp]y the
want of a diligent and watchful cOllforn1Ïty in practice to chris.
tian principle. All the attempts that ha"e been made to vindi.
cate or palliate Bacon's moral conduct, tend only to lower, and
to lower very much, the standard of virtue. He appears but
too plainly to havc been worldly, anlbitious, covetous, base,
BB2-

37 2

Of Custorn and Education.

[Essay xxxix.

selfish, and unscrupulous.! And it is remarkable that the

lammon ,vhich he served proved but a faithless master in the
end. lIe reached the highest pinnacle, indeed, to ,vhich his
ambition had aimed j but he died impoverished, degraded,
despised, and broken-hearted. IIis example, therefore, is far
from being at all seductive.
But let no one, thereupon, undervalue or neglect the lessons
of wisdom whieh his writings IDay supply, and which we may,
through divine grace, turn to better account than he did him.
self. It would be absurd to infer, that because Bacon was a
great philosopher, and far from a good man, therefore you will
be the better man for keeping clear of his philosophy. His
intellectual superiority was no more the cause of his moral
failures, than Solomon's wisdom ,vas of his. Yon may be as
faulty a character as either of them was, without possessing a
particle of their wisdom, and ,vithout seeking to gain instruction
from it. The intellectual light which they enjoyed did not,
indeed, keep them in the right path j but you win not be the
more likely to walk in it, if you quench any light that is
afforded you.
The Canaanites of old, 'we should remember, d,velt in 'a
good land, flo,ving ,vith milk and honey,' though they wor.
shipped not the true God, but served abominable demons, with
sacrifices of the produce of their soil, and even with the blood
of their children. But the Israelites ,vere invited to go in, and
take possession of 'well-stored houses that they builded not,
and wells ,vhich they digged not j' and they
took the labours
of the people in possession j' only, they were warned to beware
lest, in theIr prosperity and ,vcalth, they should 'forget the

1 This censure of Bacon has actually been complained of as undeserved; not
on the ground that bis conduct was any better than it is but too well known
to have been, but op. tlJe ground that 11Ïs writings contain excellent views of
Gospel-truth!
This is exactly the doctrine of the ancient Gnostics; who held that their (so.
caned) knowledge [GnosisJ of the Gospel would save them, though leading a vicious
life.
But when instances of such teaching in our own days are adduced (as unhappily
may be done to a great extent,) some persons-including some who are themselves
of blameless life-resolutely shut their ears to evidence, and win not be brought to
perceive, or at least to acknowledge, that. any such thing as Gnosticism exists
among us, or that we are in any danger of antinomian doctrine.
So strong is the force of P
rty !

Essay xxxix.J

Annotations.

373

Lortl thcir God,' and to offcr to IIim the first fruits of thcir
land.
N cglcct not, tllcn, any of the advantages of intellectual
cultiyation ,yhich God's proyidence has placed within your
reach; 1101' 'think scorn of that pleasant land,' and prefer
wandcring by choice ill the barrcn wilderness of ignorance;
but lct the intcllect which God has enùowed you with be cu]-
tivated as a servant to I-lim, and thcn it will be, not a master,
but a useful seryal1t, to you.

ESSAY XL. OF FOIlTUXE.

I T cannot be denied but out,vard accidents conduce much to
fortune; favour, opportunity, death of others, occasion fitting
virtue: but chiefly the mould of a man's fortune is in his own
hands. 'Faber quisque fortunæ sure,' saith the poet: 1 and the
n10st frequent of external causes is, that the folly of one man is
the fortune of another; for no man prospers so suddenly as by
others' errors; 'serpens nisi serpelltem comederit non fit draco.'2
Overt and apparent 3 virtues bring forth praise; but therc be
secret and hidden virtues that bring forth fortune; certain
deliveries of a man's self, ,,,hich have no name. The Spanish
name, 'disemboltura,H partly expresseth them) ,vhen there be
not stonds 5 and restiyelleSS in a man's nature, but that the
wheels of his mind keep ,,' ay 6 ,vith the ,,,heels of his fortune;
for so Livy (after he had described Cato 1\Iajor in these ,yords,
tin illo viro, tantum robur corporis et animi fnit, ut quocunque
loco natus esset, fortunam sibi facturus videretur') 7 falleth upon
that he had) 'versatile ingenium.' 8 Therefore) if a man look
sharply and attentively, he shall see fortune; for though she be
blind, yet she is not invisible. The way of fortune is like the
milken 9 way in the sky; ,,-hich is a meeting, or knot, of a

1 'Every man the artificer of his own fortune.'-Appills Claudius j but attri-
buted by Bacon elsewhere (Ad
'ancemellt of Learning) to l>lautus.
2 , Unless the serpent devours a serpent, it does not become a dragon.'
3 Apparent. Evident j k,wwn j 'Cisible.
, As well the fear of harm, as 'mrm apparent,
In my mind ought to be prf'veuted.' -Shakespere.
'The outward ahd apparent sanctity should flow from purity of heart.'
-AtterbU1'!1.

4 Desenvoltura. Graceful ease.
S Stonds. Stops. 'The removal of the stonds and impediments of the mind,
that often clears the passage and current to a man's fortunc.'-Bacon's Letter to
Sir Henry Tem,ple.
6 Way. Time. The time in which a certain space can be passed through or over.
, A mile-wag.'-Chaucer.
7 'In that man there was so much strength of bodJ? and of mind, that it seems
that in whatever place he had been, he would have made fortune his own.'
8 'A versatile mind.'
9 Milken. .Jlilky. 'The remedies are to be proposed from a constant course
of the milken diet.'-Temple.

Essay xl.J

OJ Fortune.

375

nunlhcr of small stars not seen asunder, but gl\91ng light
together: so are there a nlunher of little and scarce discerned
virtues, or rather facultics and custonlS, that luake Inen fortunate:
the Italians note some of them, such as a man would little
think. 'Yhen they speak of one that cannot do amiss, they
will throw in into his other conditions, that he hath 'Poco di
Iuatto j'l and, certainly, there be not hvo more fortunate pro-
perties, than to have a little of the fool, and not too much of
the honest: therefore extreme lovers of their country, or masters,
were neyer fortunate; npither can they be; for when a man
placcth his thoughts ,vithout hilllsrlf, he goeth not his own ,yay.
A hasty fortune maketh an enterpriser 2 and remover 3 (the
}1'rellch hath it better, 'entreprenant,' or 'remuant'), but the
exercised 4 fortune nlakcth the able man. Fortune is to be
honoured and respected, and á it be but for her daughters, Con-
science and Reputation; for those two felicity breedeth j the
first within a man's self, the latter in others towards him. All
"ise men, to dcclille 6 the envy of their own virtues) use to
ascribe then1 to Pro\-idence and Fortune j for so they may the
better aSSUlne them: and bcsides, it is greatness in a TIlan to he
the care of the higher powers. So Cæsar said to the pilot in
the tempest, 'Cæsarenl portas, et fortul1am ejus.'7 So S)Tlla
chose the nalne of 'felix,' and not of 'magl1us :'8 and it hath
bcen noted, that those who ascribe openly too much to thcir
own wisdolll and policy, end unfortunate. It is written, that
Timotheu:s, the ..Athenian, after he had, in the account he gave
to the State of his gOYernInent, often interlaced this speech,
, .A.nd ill this fortune had no part,' never prospered in au)rthil1g

1 "A little of the fool.'
2 .Enterpri:ser. All- adcenturer; a bold projector.
"'Yit makes an enterpriser, sense a m:m.'-roung.
3 Rernover. A9i
ator.
4 Exerciseù. }'Iade familiar
!I use. "A heart exercised with covetous prac-
tices.'-2 Pet. ii. 14.
5 And. If.
"Say, and I sufter this, I may go graze/-Beaumont and Fletcher.
6 Decline. To at'oid.
" Since the .:\Iuses do invoke my power,
I :shall no more decline the sacrt.'d bower
"'here Gloriana, the great mistre
, lies.'-Sir P. Sidney.
7 'You carry Cæsar and his fortunes.'-Plut. Vito Cæsar.3 8 .
8 ':Fortunate,' (and not of) "great.' Pluto S!l ll . 34'

37 6

OJ Fortune.

[Essay xl.

he undertook afterward. Certainly there be ,,-hose fortunes are
like flomer's verses, that have a slide I and an easiness more
.
than the verses of other poets; as Plutarch saith of Timoleon's2
fortune, in respect of that of Agesilaus, or Epaminondas; and
that this should be, no doubt it is much in a man's self.

AXTITHETA ON FORTUKE.

PRO.
, Virtutes apertæ Iaudes pariunt; oc-
euUæ fortunas.
, Virtues tltat are openly seen obtain
praise; but 'what is called luck is Ute
re.mlt of unperceived virtues.'

CONTRA.
, Stultitia unius, fortuna alterius.
, The folly of one is the !lood fortune
of arwther.'

'Fortuna vel uti galaxia; hoc est,
nodus quarundam obscurarum virtutum,
sine nomine.
, Fortune is Z'ike a galaxy; tltat is to
say, a collection of certain unseen and
nameless endo
vments.'

ANNOTATIONS.

, So are tltere a nUlnber of little and scarce discerned faculties or
CllSt01ìlS, that 'Jnake 'men fo'rtunate.'

It is common to hear tlle lo,,-er orders speak of luck, either as
their mode of expressing what Bacon here calls' snlall faculties
and customs,' or, as attributing to fortune ,,-hat is a kind of
indescribable and imperceptible skill. You may hear them
speak of a ,,'oman who has good luck in her butter-making or
ill bread-making; of a gardener ,vho is lucky or ,vho is unlucky
in grafting, or in raising fllelons J &c.

'lVlten they (tlte Italians) speak of one that cannot do arniss,
they will tltro1.v into !tis other conditio'lt.y, tltat he Itatlt ' Poco
di n
atto' [a little of tlte fool].'
This is in accordance with the proverb, (Fortune favours
fools;' and it would have been ,yell if Bacon had said some-

1 Slide. Fluency. ' Oftcn he had used to be an actor in tragedies, where he
IHullearned, besides a slidin!Jness of language, acquaintance with my passions.'-
Sidney. 2 rit. Timol. 3 6 .

E
say
1.]

Annotations.

3ï7

thing more of it. Fortune is said to favour fools, bccause they
trust all to fortunc. 'Yhen a fool escapes any danger, or
succceds in any undcrtaking, it is :said that fortunefavollrs him;
"hile a wise luan is considercd to prosper by his own prudence
and foresight. :For in
tance, if a fool who docs not bar his
door, cscapcs bC'ing robbed, it is ascribed to his luck; but the
l)l'udellt mall) ha, ing taken prccautions, is not called fortunate.
TIut a "ise luan i
, in fact, nlore likcly to l11cet with good
fortune than a foolish one, because he puts himself in tlte way
of it. If he is scnding off a ship, he has a better chance of
obtaining a fa'
ourable wind, because he chuses the place and
sea
on in which such winds prevail as will be fa,'oul'able to him.
If the fool's ship arrivcs
afely, it is by good luck alone; while
both must be in sonle degree indebted to fortune for success. l
One way in ,,-lâch fools succeed where wiser nlen fail is, that
through ignorance of the danger, they sometilnes go coolly
about some hazardous business. IIence the proverb that' The
fairies take care of children, drunken men, and idiots.'
.A. surgeon was once callcd in to bleed an apoplectic patient.
lIe caned the physician aside, and eXplained to hin1 that in this
particular subject the artery lay so unusually orer the vein, that
thcre was imnlinent risk of pricking it. '"\Y ell, but he lItUSt
bc blcd at an hazards; for he is sure to die ,,,ithout.' 'I am

o nervous,' said the surgeon, 'that my hand ,yould be unsteady.
But 1 know of a barber hard by who is accustonled to bleed;
and as he is ignorant of anatomy, he will go to ,vork cooll)T.'
Thc barber was sunlffioncd, and pcrformed the operation readily
and safely. 'Yhcn it was over, thc surgcon showed him some
anaton1Ícal platc
, and eXplained to him that he had Inissed the
artcry only by a hair's breadth. lIe ne\-er yenturcd to blecd
agaIn.
One sometimcs lI1Cets with an 'ill-used man;' a nlan with
who111 cverything goes wrong; who is always thinking how
}lappy he should be to exchange his prcsent wretchcd situation
for such and such another; and whcn he has obtained it, fiud-
iug that he is far worse off than bcfore, and seeking a renlove;
and as SOOl1 as he has obtaincd that, discoyering that his last
situation was just the thing for him, and was beginning to open

1
('e Prol.'erbs and Precepts for cop
--rieces.

37 8

Of Fortune.

[Essa r xl.

to hin1 a prospect of unbroken happiness, far beyond his present
state, &c. To him a verse of Shakespere ,yell applies:-

0 thoughts of men accurst!
Past, and to come, seem best, things present, worst.'

One is ren1Índed of a luan travelling in the African desert, sur-
!'ounded by luirage, with a (seeming) lake behind him, and a
lake before him) ,yhich, ,,
hen he has reached) he finds to he
still the same barren and scorching sand. A friend aptly
remarked, (This man's happiness has no present tense.'

I
I
i
,
i

ESSAY XLI. OF USURY.1

l\ If AKY have nlade ,,-itty iu\?ecti\Tes against usury. They
1"1- say, that it is pit y 2 the de,-il should have God's part, which
is the tithe; that the usurer is the gl-eatest Sabbath-breaker,
because his plough goeth evcry Sunday; that the usurcr is the
drone that Yïrgil spcaketh of:
, Igllavum fucos pect1s a præsepibus arceut ;'3

that the usurer breaketh the first law. that was made for n1an-
kind after the fall, which was, 'In 8urlore vultus tui comedes
panem tuum,J4 not 'In sudore yultus alieni;15 that usurers
should have orange-tawny bonnets, because they do judaize;
that it is against nature for money to beget money; and the
likc. I say this only, that usury is a 'concessum propter
duriticln cordis :'6 for sinee there must be borrowing and lending,
and men are so hard of heart as i they will not lend freely,
usury must be pern1Ítted. Some others have made suspicious
and cunning propositions of banks, discoyery of men's estates,
and other inventions; but few have spoken of usury usefully.
It is good to set before us the incommodities 8 and c0111modities 9
of usury, that the good n1ay be either 'weighed out or culled

1 LSUry. Interest on money, (not, as now, unlawful interest.) 'Thou oughtest,
therefore, to have put In)T money to the exchangers, and then, at my coming, J
should ha,.e received mine own with us1lry.'-....llatl. xxv. 27. 'Our angles are like
money put to lfSU1"!1; they may still thrive, though we sit still, and do nothing.'-
L<Jaak IValfo11.
2 It is pity. It is a pity.
, That he is mad, 'tis true; 'tis trt1e, 'tis pit!! ;
.And pity 'tis, 'tis true.'-Shakespere.
3 'TIlE'Y drÏ\'e from the hive the lazy swarm of drones.'-Georg. iv. 168.
4 'In the sweat of thy (lce shalt thou eat bread.'-Gt:ll. iii. 19.
Ii , In the sweat of another's face.'
6 'A COll('('
::;ion on account of hardness of heart.' -See J[aft. xix. 8.
7 As. That.
ee page 22.
8 Incommodity. InC01Wellience; disadvantage. ' The uncouth incommodify of
my solitary hfe.'-Bi-'ihop JIall. "Yhat incommodity have
'ou conceÏ\-eù to be ill
the comUlon law.'-Spenser.
9 ComlUoditics. Adumtages.
· I win turn diseases to commodity.' -Slulkespere.

3 80

Of Usury.

[Essay xli.

out; and warily to proyide, that, w hiIe ,ve nlake forth to that
which is better, we nleet not with that ,,,hich is "Torse.
The discommodities 1 of usury are, first, that it makes fewer
n1erchants: for were it not for this lazy trade of usury, money
,,-ould not lie still, but it would in great part he em ployed upon
Inerchandising,2 which is tIle veua porta 3 of wealth in a State: the
second, that it makes poor merchants; for as a farmer cannot
husband his ground so well if he sit at a great rent, so the
merchant caunot driye his trade so ,,-ell, if he sit at great usury:
the third is incident to t.he other two, and that is, the decay of
customs of kings, or estates/ which ebb or flow .with merchan-
dising: the fourth, that it hringeth the treasure of a realm or
State into a few hands; for the usurei- being at certainties, and
the other at uncertainties, at the end of the game n10st of the
nloney will be in the box, and ever a State Hourisheth when
,vealth is more equally spread: the fifth, that it beats down the
price of land; for the emploYlnent of money is chiefly either
n1erchandisillg, or purchasing; and usury way lays both: the
sixth, that it doth dull and dalnp all industries, Ï1nprovements,
and ne\v inventions, "'herein money ,vould be stirring, if it were
not for t11Ìs slug: the last, that it is the canker and ruin of
n1any lllen's estates, which in process of time breeds a public
l)overty.
On the other side, the commodities of usury are, first, tl1at
ho,,'soeyer!; usury in sonle respects hindereth merchandising, yet
in some other it ad,'anceth it, for it is certain that the greatest
part of trade is driven by young merchants upon borrowing at
interest; so as 6 if the usurer either call in or keep back his
money, there will ensue presently a great stand of trade: tIle
second is, that, were it not for this easy horrowing upon interest,
men's necessities ,,-ould dra,v upon theln a most sudden undoing,7
in that 8 they ,,'ould he forced to sell their n1eans (be it lands

1 Discommodities. IncoJu'eniences. See page 3 20 .
2 Merchandizing, T,ading. 'The l>llPuicialls, of whose exceeding merchandiz.
ing we read so mud. in ancient histories, were Cauaanites, whose very llame signi-
fies merC'hants.'-Brerewood.
3 The great vein,. 4 Estates. Slates. See page 114-
5 Howsoever. Although. See page 2. 6 As. That.
ce page 22.
7 Undoing. See page 266.
8 In that. Inasmuclt as. 'Things are preached not Ï1
tlwl they are taught,
but ÍJ/; tlwt they are published.' - Hooker.

Es
ay
li. ]

Of Usury.

3 81

or goods) far under foot, 1 and so, ,vhereas usury cloth but gnaw
upon them, bad markets would swallow them quite up. As for
mortgaging, or pawning, it will little mend the matter; for
cither n1ell will not take pawns 2 'without use, 3 or if they do, they
,,-ill look precisely for the forfeiture. I remember a cruel
m.onicd man in the country, that ,vould say, 'The devil take
this usury, it keeps us frolll forfeitures of mortgages and bonds.'
The third and last is, that it is a vanity to conceive that there
"ould be ordinary borrowing without profit, and it is impossible
to conceive the number of inconveniences that will ensue, if
borrowing be cramped: therefore to speak of the abolishing of
usury is idle; aU States have ever had it in one kind or rate or
othcr-so as that opinion nlust be sent to Utopia.
To speak no" of the rcformation and reglement 4 of usury,
how the discommodities of it may be best avoided, and the
cOlnmodities retained. It appears by the balance of commo-
dities and disconlmodities of usury, two things are to be recon-
ciled; the one that the tooth of usury be grinded, that it bite
not too n1uch; the othcr that there be left open a llleans to
iuvite monied nlen to lend to the merchants, for the continuing
anù quickening 5 of trade. This cannot be done, except you
introduce two se,-eral sorts of usury, a less and a greater; for
if you reduce usury to one lo"r rate, it will ease the common
borrower, but the merchant will be to seek for money; and it
is to be noted, that the trade of merchandise being the most
lucrative, may bear usury at a good rate-other contracts
not :so.
To serve both intentions,6 the way would be briefly thus :-
that there be two rates of usury; the one free and general for
all, the other under licence only to certain persons, and in
certain places of merchandising. First, therefore, let usury in
general be reduced to fi,'e in the hundrcd, and let that rate be

1 Under foot. Too low. ' "That a stupidness is it, then, that we should deject
ourselves to such a
lugðish, and Ulldel:fout philo
ophy.'-..lIilton.
2 })aWlls. .A pledge.
e Her oath for love, her honour's pau:n.'-Sltake.vpere.
B C'se. Interest.
4 Reglcment. Regulation.
6 Quicken. To !Jiæ life to. ( You hath He quickened, who were dead in tres-
passes and sins.'-Ephes. ii. I.
6 Intention. Object. e The principal intention (in chronic distempers) is to
restore the tone of the sùlid parts.'-Arbutlul,ot.

3 82

Of Usury.

[Essay xli.

proclaimed to be free and current, and let the State shut itself
out to take any penalty for the same. This will preserve bor-
rowing from any general stop or dryness-this ",-ill ease infinite
borro,yers iu the country-this will, in good part, raise the price
of land, because land purchased at sixteen years' purchase will
yield six in the hundred, and some,vhat more, whereas this rate
of interest yields but five-this, by like reason, ,,,ill encourage
und edge industrious and profitable improvements, because many
will rather venture in that kind, than take five in the hundred,
especially having been used to greater profit. Secondly, let
there be certain persons licenced to
end to known merchants
11pon usury, at a high rate, and let it be with the cautions fol-
Io"", ing. Let the rate be, even with the merchant himself,
some,vhat more easy than that he used formerly to pay; for by
that means all borrowers shall have SOllle ease by this reforma-
tion, be he nlerchant or ,,'hosoever 1 -let it be no bank, or
COffilTIOn stock, but every man be lnaster of his o,,'n 1110ney;
not that I altogether mislike 2 banks, but they will hardly be
brooked, in regard 3 of certain suspicions. Let the State be
answered 4 some small matter for the licence, and the rest left
to the lender; for if the abatement be but snlall, it will no "hit 5
discourage the lender; for he, for example, that took before ten
or nine ill the hundred, will sooner descend to eight in the
hundred, than give over this trade of usury, and go from certain
gains to gains of hazard. Let these licenced lenders be in
number indefinite, but restrained to certain principal cities and
to,vns of merchandising; for then they will be hardly able to
COI01U'6 other men's monies in the country, so as the licence of

1 ""'hosoeyer. 1Vlwever. (Whosoever should give the blow, the murùer would
be his. "Te are g"11ilty of all the evil we might have hindered/-Bishop Hall.
2 Mislike. Dislike.
(And Israel, whom I lov'd so dear,
Misliked me for his choice.'-Milton.
3 In regard. On account. See page 275.
4 Answer. To pay.
( \Vho studies day and night
To ans.wer all the debts he owes to you.' -Shalcespere.
5 vYhit. In the least; in the smallest degree. (I was not a wllit behind the
very chief est apostles.'-2 Cor. xi. 5.
'We love, and are no 'It'hit regarded.'-Sidney.
6 Colour. To pass for thei'l' O'lL"'Jt. (To colour a stranger's goods is, wIlen a
frt'eman allows a foreignel' to enter goolls at the Custom-house in his name.'-
Pltillips.

Essay
li.]

Annotations.

3 8 3

uine "ill not suck away the current rate of fh
e; for no man
will lend his 111011ics far off, nor put them into unknown hands.
If it be objcctcd that this doth in any sort authorisc usury,
whiC'h bcfore was in some places but permi
si,re, the answer is,
that it is better to n1Ïtigate usury by declaration, than to suffer
it to rage by connivance.

ANXÜTATIOKS.

It is wondcrful how late right notions on this subject were
introduced; and not even now have they been universally
adopted. I have already renlarked, in the notes to the Essay
on 'Seditions and TUU1Ults,' that the error of over-go,.erlling
always prey ails in the earlier stages of civilization (even as the
young are more liable to it than the experienced), and that
Bacon bhared in this error is evident from his ad,.ocating
SUlllptuary la-ws-the regulating of prices-the legislating against
engrossers-prohibiting the laying down of land in pasture, &c.
All these puerilities are to be found in the earlier laws of all
countries. In this Essay on ' Usury,' he does not go the whole
lcngth of the prC'judices existing in his tinle, though he partakes
of them in a great degree. In his day, and long before, there
were many who held it absolutely sinful to receive any interest
for lTIOney, on the ground of the prohibition of it to the
Israelites in their dealings" ith each other; though the
Iosaic
law itsclf proyes the contrary, since it allows lending at interest
to a stranger; and certainly the Israelites were not permitted
to oppress and defraud strangers.

'Since there rnus! be borrowing and lending, and 'i1len are so
hard of heart as they 'it'll! not lend freely . . . . .'

It seems strange that a nlan of Bacon's acuteness should not
haye perceived-hut it is far more strange that legislators in
the llinetceuth century should not bave percei,-ed-that there is
no e

ential difference between the use of any other kind of
lu'opcrty, and money, which represents, and is equivalent to,

3 8 4

OJ Usu'ry.

[Essay xli.

any and all kinds. It nevcr occurred to Bacon, secmingly,
that no man is called hard-hearted for not letting his land or
his house rent-free, or for requiring to be paid for the use of
his horse, or his ship, or any other kind of property.
If I build a mill or a ship, and let it to a manufacturer or
merchant, everyone would allow that this is a very fair way of
investing capital; quite as fair, and much ,viser, than if, being
ignorant of manufactures and trade, I "
ere to set up for a
manufacturer or merchant. N o,v if, instead of this, I lend a
n1erchant money to buy or build a ship for himself, or advance
money to the manufacturer to erect his buildings and machinery,
he will probably suit himself better than if I had taken this OIl
myself", ,,'ithout his experience.
No doubt, advantage is often taken of a n1an's extreme
necessity, to demand high interest, and exact payment ,vith
l'igour. But it is equally true that advantage is taken, in SOlne
crowded to,vn, of a man's extreme n
ed of a night's loùging.
Again, it is but too well known, that where there is an exces-
sive competition for land, as almost the sole mode of obtaining
a subsistence, it is likely that an exorbitant rent will be asked,
and that this ,vill be exacted ,yith unbending severity. But
who would thereupon propose that the letting of laud should be
prohibited, or that a maximum of rent should be fixed b)T la,y? For,
legislative interposition in dealings between man and n1an, except
for the prevention of fraud, generally increases the evil it seeks
to remedy. A prohibition of interest, or-which is only a minor
degree of the sallIe error-a prohibition of any beyond a certain
fixed rate of interest, has an effect similar to that of a like
interference between the buyers and sellers of any other com-
modity, If, for exalnple, in a hn1e of scarcity it were enacted,
on the ground that cheap food is desirable, that bread and meat
should not be sold beyond such and such a price, the result
lrould be that everyone ,vould be driven-unless he ,,
oula
subn1Ït to be star,
ed-to evade the la\v; and he would ha,.e to
pay for his food 'more than he otherwise ,,
ould, to cover (I) the
cost of the contrivances for the evasion of the la,v, and (2) a
compensation to the seller for the risk, and also for the dis-
credit, of that e'
asion. Even so, a man ,vho is in ,vant of
money, and can find no one to lend it him at legal interest, is
either driven (as Bacon hin1self remarks), to sell his property

ES3ay xli.]

Annotations.

3 8 5

at a ruinous los
, or else he horrows of some Je", who contri'-es
to e\Tadp the law; and he has to par for that evasion. Supposc,
for instance, he could borrow (if there "rere no usury-lalfs) at
cight pCI' cent., he will ha\re to pay, perhaps, yirtually hyeh'e
pCI' ccnt., because (I) he has to resort to a luan ,vho incurs
disgrace by his trade, and who will require a greater profit to
compensate for the discredit; and (2) he 'will have to recei\Tc
}ml't of his loan in goods which he does not want, at an e
-
ol'hitallt price, or in SOllle other way to receive less, reallr, than
he does nominally.

ESSAY XLII. OF YOUTH AND AGE.

A J\IAN that is young in years may be old in hours, if he
have lost no tÏ1ne; but that happeneth rarely. Gencrally,
youth is like the first cogitations, not so wise as the second, for
there is a youth in thoughts as ,yell as in ages; and yet the
invention of young nlen is more liyely than that of old, and imagi-
nations stream into theil' minds better, and, as it "'ere, more
divinely. Natures that haye nluch heat, and great and violent
desires anù perturbations, are not ripe for action till they have
passed the meridian of their years; as it ,vas ,,-ith Julius Cæsar
and Sel)tin1Íus Severus, of the latter of ,,-horn it is said, ' J uven-
tutelll egit, erroribus, imo furorious plenam :'1 and yct he ,vas
the ablest emperor almost of all the list; but reposed:: natures
nlay do "'ell in youth, as it is scen ill Augustus Cæsar, Cosmus
Duke of Florcnce, Gaston de Fois, and others. On the other
side, heat and vivacity in age is an excellent con1position 3 for
business. Young Inen are fittcr to invent than to judge, fitter
for execution than for counsel, and fittcr for ne,v projects than
for settled business; for the experience of age, in things that
fall ,vithin the compass of it, directeth them, but in ne,v things
abuseth 4 them. The errors of young 111en are the ruin of busi-
ness, but the errors of aged men anlount but to this-that more
might have been donc, or sooner. Young men, in the conduct
and n1anage 5 of actions, embrace more than they can hold; stir
more than they can quiet; fly to the end, ,yithout consideration
of the means and degrees; pursue SOIne few principles which
they have chanced upon, absurdly; care not 6 to innovate, "frhich

1 C His youth was not only full of errors, but of frantic passions.' -Spartian,
Vito Sev. .
2 Reposed. Calm. C "Tith 'Wondrous reposedness of mind, and gentle worùs,
Reputation answered/-Translation of Boccalini, 1626.
3 Composition. Temperament. See page 295.
4 Abuse. To deceive; to lead astra.if_
'Nor be with all those tempting words abused/-Pope.
:; Manage. Management.
C The manage of my state/-Skakespere.
6 Care not. Are not cautious.

Essay xlii.]

Of Youtlt and Age.

3 8 7

dran s unknown incon\ycnienccs; usc cxtreme remedies at firò::\t;
and that, which doubleth all crrors, ,vill not acknowledge or
rctract thcn1, like an unrcady horsc that will neither stop nor
turn.
ICll of age object too n1uch, consult too long, adyenture
too little, rcpent too soon, aud seldom drive business hOJne to
the full period/ but content themsehyes "rith a mediocrity of
success. Ccrtainly it is good to compound employments of
both; for that will be gooù for the present, because the virtues
of cither age nlay correct the defects of both; and good for
succession, that young Inen may be learners, ,yhile men in age
are actors; and, lastly, good for extern 2 accidents, because
authority followeth old men, and fayour and popularity youth;
hut, for the 11101'al part, perhaps, youth will have the pre-
cn1Ínence, as age hath for the politic. A certain rabbin, upon
the tcxt, ' Your young men shall sce visions, and your old men
shall dream dreams,'3 inferreth that young n1en are admitted
nearer to God than old, lJecause vision is a clearer revelation
thall a dream; and, certainly, the more a man drinketh of the
world, the n10re it intoxicateth; and age doth profit 4 rather in
the powers of understanding, than in the virtues of the will and
affection
. There be some have an over-early ripeness in their
years, which f
ldeth betin1es: these are, first, such as have brittle
wits, the edge whcreof is soon turned; such as was HerIDogenes
the rhetorician, whose books are exceeding suùtle, who after-
wards waxed 5 stupid: a second sort is of those that have some
llatural di
positions, which have better grace in youth than in
age, such as is a fluent and luxurious speech, which become

youth ,,-ell, but not age; 80 Tully saith of Hortensius, 'Idem

1 Period. Completion; peryection. (In light-comerving stones, the Jight will
appear greater or les:;er, until they come to their utmost period.'-lJigly.

Extern. External.
( "Ìlen my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of mJ heart,
In compliment exter1l, 'tis not long after,
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve,
}'or daws to peck at.'-Shakespere.
3 Joel ii. 28.
4 l>rofit. To improve. (That thy profiling may appear unto all men.'-
I Tim,. iv. IS. ( It is a great means of profili1lg yourself to copy diligently excel..
lent designs.' - Dryden.
5 \\ra
ed. To grolV; to become. (Paul and Barnabas waxed bold.' -Acts
xiii. 4 6 .

c c Z

"88
.)

Of r.outh and Age.

[Essay xlii.

manebat J neque idem decebat :' 1 the third is of such as take
too high a strain at the first, and are magnanimous nlore than
tract of years 2 can uphold; as was Scipio Africanus, of ,,-hODl
Livy saith in effect, ( Ultima prin1is cedebant.' 3

ANTITHETA O
YOUTH AND AGE.

PRO.
:if: * :if:
'Senes sibi sapiunt magis, aliis et
reipuhlicæ minus.
(Old men lW'l-'e more 'wisdom for
themselres, and less for others, and for
the public.'

( Si conspici daretur, magis deformat
animos, quam corpora, senectus.
( Ij' the mind could be an object of
sight, it 'Would be seen tltat old age
deforms it more than the body.'

( Senes omnia metnunt, pI'æter Deos.
(Old men fear everytlÛng but tlle
f}ods/

COKTR..1.
( J uventus pænitentiæ campus.
( I
ollth is t1le field for Ule seeds of
'repentance.'

'Ingenitus est juvenibus scnilis HUC-
toritatis contemptus; ut quisque suo
periculo sapiat.
(A contempt for the judgments of
age is implanted in youtlt, in order flut!
et'e'J"Y one 'Jnay be sentenced to lear?"
wisdom at his men risk.'

(Tempus, ad quæ cOllsilia non advo-
catuI', nec rata habet.
'lVhen TÏ1ne is not called in as a
counsellor, 1z,either does it ratify the
decision.'

ANX01'ATIO
S.

1\iany readers of Aristotle's ac1rnirable description (in tbe
Rhetoric) of the Young and the Old, (in which he giyes so decided
a preference to the character of the young,) forget, that he is
describing the sal1ze man at different periods of life, since tlle
old must have been young. As it is, he gives just the right
vie,v of the character of the (natural In an,' (as the Apostle
Paul expresses it,) which is, to become-on the whole,-gradually

1 (He remained the same; but the same was no longer becoming to him.'-
Cic. Brut. 95.
2 Tract. Course.

'My fansies all are fled,
And tract of time begins to wea\ e
Grey llaires upon my head.'-Lord Vaux.
(This is supposed to be the original of Shakspere's
grave-digger's song in Hamlet.)
3 'The last fell short of the first.'-Lir!J, xxxviii. 53.

E
say
lii.]

Anlwtations.

3 8 9

,yorsc, whcn no supcrior and purifJing principle has been im-
planted. SOllle peoplc fancy that a man grows good by grow.
ing old, without taking any particular pains about it. But' the
oldcr the crab-trce the more crabs it bear
,' says the proverb.
Unle
:s a correcting principle be engraft ed, a nlan lnay, perhaps,
outgrow the vices and follics of youth; but other viccs, and eyen
,yorse, "ill COlue in their stead. If, indeed, a 1Vildil1g b'ee be
grafted, whcll young, with a good fruit tree, then, the older it is,
if it be kept ,,'cll prullcd, the more good fruit it ,,,ill bear.

, .A man that is young in years may be old zn !tours, if !te have
lost no !inLe.'

l\Iany are apt to oyerlook, with regard to mental qualifica-
tions, what BaeOll has here said, that the junior ill years lllay be
the senior in expericnce. .And this may be, not only from his
having had bettpr opportunities, but also from his understand-
ing better how to learn from cxperience. 'Several different
nlen, who have all had equal, or even the very same, experience,
that is, have been witnesses or agents in the same transactions,
will often be found to resemble so many different men looking
at the saIne hook: one, perhaps, though he distinctly sees black
n1arks on "hite paper, has HCyer learncd his letters; another
can read, but is a stranger to the language in which the book
is written; another has an acquaintance with the language, but
understands it in1perfectly; another is fan1Ïliar with the lan-
guage, but is a stranger to the s?-bject of the book, and wants
})ower or previous in3truction to enable him fully to takc in the
author's drift; while another again perfectly con1prehcnds the
whole.
'The object that strikes the eye is to all of thcse persons the
same; the difference of the im pres
ions produced on the mind
of each is refcrable to the diffcrences in their n1Ìnds.' 1
And this explains the fact, which I have already touched
upon in the notes on the es
ay 'Of Seen1Ïng 'Yisc,' namely,
the great discrepancy that we find in thc results of what are called
Expericnce and COlllmon-scllse, as contradi::;tinguished from
Theory.
,
Icn are apt not to consider with sufficient attention, ,,-hat

1 Political E'collo11lY, Lect. iíi.

39 0

Of }Toutlt and Age.

[Essay xlii.

it is that constitutes EÀperience in each point; so that frequently
one man shall have credit for much Experience, in what relates
to the rnatter in hand, and another, ,vho, perhaps, possesses as
much, or more, shall be underrated as wanting it. The vulgar,
of all ranks, need to be ,yarned", first, that tinle alone does not
constitute Experience; so that rnany years may have passed oyer
a man's head, without his even having had the same opportunities
of acquiring it, as another, much younger: secondly, that the
longest practice in conducting any bu
iness in one ,vay, does
not necessarily confer any experience in conducting it in a dif-
ferent way: e.g. an experienced II usbandman, or
Iillister of
State, in Persia, ,vould be much at a loss in Europe; and if
they had some things less to learn than an entire novice, on the
other hand they ,vould have much to unlearn; and, thirdly, that
merely being conyers ant about a certain class of subjects, does
not confer Experience in a case, where the Operations) and the
End proposed, are different. It is said that there was an
Amsterdam merchant, who had dealt largely in corn all his
life, '1'110 had neyer seen a field of wheat gro,ving: this 111an
had doubtless acquired, by Experience, an accurate judgnlent of
the qualities of each description of corn,-of the hest methods
of storing it,-of the arts of Luying and selling it at proper
times, &c.; but he would have been greatly at a loss in its cul-
tivation; though he had been, in a certain ,yay, long conversant
about corn. Nearly sin1Ílar is the Experience of a practised
lawyer, (supposing hÍln to be nothing n10re,) in a case of Legis-
lation. Because he has been long conversant about Law, the
unreflècting attribute great weight to his legislative judgment;
,,-here as his constant habits of fixing his thoughts on what the
law' is, and ,vithdrawing it from the irrelev.ant question of 'what
the law ought to be ;-his careful observance of a multitude of
rules, ("which afford the Inore scope for the display of his skill,
in l)roportion as they are arbitrary and unaccountable,) with a
studied indifference as to that ,yhich is foreign from his business,
the convenience or inconvenience of those Rules-may be expected
to operate unfavourahly on his judgment in questions of Legis-
lation: and are likely to counterbalance the ad vantages of his
superior know ledge, even in such points as do bear on the
question.
, Again, a person who is more properly to be regarded as an

Essay xlii.]

Annotations.

39 1

antiquarian than anything else, win sometimes be rC'garded as
high authority in sonIC suhject respecting which he has perhaps
little or no real knowledge or capacity, if he have collected a
multitude of facts relative to it. Suppose for instance a man of
111ueh reading, and of retentive memory, but of unphilosophical
nlind, to have anlassed a great collection of particulars respect...
ing the 'writers on some science, the tiIncs when they flourished,
the numbers of their followers, the editions of their works, &c.,
it is not unlikely he Inay lead both others and himself into the
belief that he is a great authority in that science; when perhaps
he nlay in reality kno"T-though a great deal about it-nothing
of it. Such a man's mind, compared with that of one really
versed in the subject, is like an antiquarian armoury, full of
curious old weapons,-many of them the more precious from
having been long since superseded,-as compared with a well...
stocked arsenal, containing all the most approved warlike imple.
lnents fit for actual service.
C In matters connected ,,'ith Political-economy, tbe experience
of practical men is often appealed to in opposition to those who
are callf'd Theorists; even though the latter perhaps are deducing
conclusions fronl a wide induction of facts, while the experience
of the others win often be found only to amount to their ha\-ing
been long conversant ,,"ith the details of office, and having all
tl..at time gone on in a certain beaten track, from which they
neyer tried, or witnessed, or even imagined a deviation.
, So also the authority derived from experience of a practical
miner,-i. e. one who has wrought all his life in one mine,-will
sometimes delude a speculator into a vain search for nletal or
coal, against the opinion perhaps of Theorists, i. e. persons of ex-
tensive geological observation.
, , It may be added, that there is a proverbial maxim "Thich
bears witness to the advantage sometimes possessed by an obser.
yant bystander over those actually engaged in any transaction:
-' The looker-on often sees lnore of the galne than the players.'
N ow the looker-on is precisely (in Greek eE:Wp
c;) the Theo.
rist.
"'Yhen then you find anyone contrasting, in this anù in
other subjects, what he calls' experience,' with' theory,' you will
usually perceive on attentive exanlination, that he is in reality
comparing the results of a confined, with that of a wider, e:xpe.

39 2

Of JTouth and Age.

[E
say xlii.

rience j-a more imperfect and crude theorr, with one lllore
cautiously framed, and based on a more copious induction."1

, The experience of age in ne
v things abuseth thern.'

The old are Inore liable to the rashness of the horse, and the
younger to that of the Inoth; the distinction bchveen ,yhich
I have before pointed out. The old again are more likely than
the young, to claim, and to give, an undue deference to the
judgment, in reference to some llÆW plan or system, of those
,vho are the most tboroughly familiar with the old one. On
this point I have already dwelt in Iny remarks on Innovation.

, Natures that have much heat are not ripe for action till they
have passed the 'lìzet'idian of their years.'

There is a strange difference in the ages at ,vhich different
persons acquire such maturity as they are capable of, and at
,vhich some of those ",-ho have greatly distinguished thenIselves
have done, and been, something remarkable. Some of them
have left the "rorld at an earlier age than that at which others
have begun their career of elninence. It ,,'as renlarked to the
late Dr. Arnold by a friend, as a matter of curiosity, that
several men 'who have fil1ed a considerable page in history
have lived but forty-seven years (Philip of 1\iacedon, Joseph
Addison, Sir "\tVîlliam Jones, Nelson, Pitt), and he ,vas told
in a jocular ,,'ay to beware of the forty -seventh year. lIe
'was at that time in robust health; but he died at forty -seven!
Alexander dicd at thirty-two; Sir Stamford Raffles at forty-
fhre. Sir Isaac Newton did indeed live to a great age; but it
is said that all his discoveries were made before he 'vas forty;
so that he n'lÏgld have died at that age, and been as celebrated
as he is.
On the other hand, l-Ierschel is said to have takcn to
astronomy at forty-seven. Swedenborg, if he had died at sixty,
,vould have been remembered by those that did remember him,
merely as a sensible ,,'orthy nIan, and a very considerable
mathematician. The strange fancies which took possession of

! See Elements oj lUwtoric, Part II., ch. iii., S 5, pp. 221-224.

Essay xlii.]

Annotations.

393

hÍ111, and which survive in tIle sect he founded, all canle on after
that age.
Somc pcrsons resenlble ccrtain trccs, such as the nut, which
flowcrs in Fcbruary, and ripclls its fruit in Scptcmbcr; or the
junip
r and the arbutus, which take a whole ycar or nlore to
perfect thcir fruit; and others thc chcrry, which takes between
tlro anrl thrce months.

( There be some !lave an ovel. early ripeness in their years, which
ladet/t betimes.'

One may meet with SOll1e ,,
ho are clever as children, and,
without falling back, renlain stationary at a certain age, and
thus are neither lllore nor less than cleyer children all their
life. You may find one who has thus stood still at about nine
or ten; anothcr at about fourteen; another at about seventeen
or eighteen, and so on. .And it is a curious thing to 111cet at
pretty long intel',"als, a person whom one has known as a
remarkably forward, and (supposed) pron1Ísing youth, and to
find that at forty, fifty, sixty, he has hardly either gained or
lost anything since he ,vas in his teens. An elder-tree will
gro,v as much in the first three or four years as an oak in ten
or hyeh-e; but at thirty years the oak will haye outgrown the
elder, and will continue gaining on it ever after.
As for the decay of lnental faculties which often takes place
in old age, eyery one is aware of it; but many overlook one
kind of it wllich is far from uncommon; nanlely, when a man
of superior intelligence, without falling into anything like
dotage, sinks into an ordinary Ulan. 'Yhenever thcre is a rnix-
ture of genius with imbecility, everyone perceives that a decay
has taken place. But when a pcrsol1 of a great intellectual
eminence beco111es (as is s0111etimes the case) an ordinary average
man, just such as many ha,-e been all their life, no one is likely
to snspect that the facultics have been inlpaired by a
e, except
tho
e who have secn nluch of hilll in his brightcr days.
E,'en so, no one, on looking at an ordinary dwelling-house
ill good repair, would suspect that it had been once a splendid
palace; but when ,,-e view a stately old castle, or cathedral,
partly in ruins, we see at once that it cannot be what it
originally was.

394

Of l"'outlt and Age.

[Essay xlii.

The decay ,yhich is most usually noticed in old people, both
by others and by themselyes, is a dccay of 'In ern o'ry. But tl)is
is perhaps partly frorn its being a defect easily to be detected
and distinctly proved. 'Yhen a decay of judgment takes place--
which is perhaps oftener the case than is commonly supposed
-the party himself is not likely to be conscious of it; and his
friends are more likely to overlook it, and even ,,'hen they do
perceive it, to be backwarcl in giving him warning, for fear of
being met with such a rebuff as Gil BIas received in return for
his candour from the Archbishop, his patron.
It is ren1arkable, that there is nothing less promising thall,
in early youth, a certain full-forn1ed, settled, and, as it n1ay be
caned, adult character. A lad who has, to a degree that excites
wonder and adlniratioll, the character and demeallour of an
intelligent n1an of mature age, ,,'ill probably be that, and
nothing more, all his life, and will cease accordingly to be any.
thing remarkable, because it .was the precocity alone that eyer
made him
o. It is relnarker1 by greyhound-fanciers that a
,,'ell-formed, compact-sbaped puppy never makes a fleet dog.
They see more promise in the loose-jointed, awk,,'ard, clumsy
ones. And even 80, there is a kind of crudity and unsettleùness
in the minds of those young persons lrho turn out ultimately
the most emincnt.

, SOl1le natural dispositions 'which have better grace in youth tItan
in age, sllch as is a fluent and luxuriant speech.'

It is relnarkable, that, in point of style of "Titing, Bacon
himself, at different periods of life, showed differences ju
t
opposite to ,yhat n10st ,voulò. have expected. His earlier
writings are the most unornamented; and he grew more ornate
as he adyanced. So also Burke. His earliest work, On the
Subli71ze, is in a brief, dry, phiJosophical style; and he becan1e
florid to an excess as he grew older.

ESSAY XLIII.

OF BE.L.\. UTY.

V IRTUE is like a rich stone, best plain set; and surcly
virtue is best in a body that is comely, though not of
òelicate featurcs, and that hath rather dignity of prcsence than
heauty of a
pcct; ncithcr is it ahnost 1 seen that very bcautiful
persons are othcrl\'ise of great virtue, as if naturc .were rather
busy not to err, than in labour to !)roù uce excellen cy, 2 and
therefore they prove accomplished, but not of great spirit., and
study rathcr behaviour than virtue. But this holds not always;
for A..ugustus Cæsar, Titus V cspasianus, Philip Ie Bel of }
rance,
Edward I'T. of England, _\lcibiades of Athens, Ismael the
soph y 3 of Persia} were all high and great spirits, and yet the
most beautiful nlcn of their tinles. In beauty, that of fayour 4
is nlOl'e than that of colour, and that of decellt 5 and gracious 6
motion more than that of favour. That is the best part of
beauty which a picture cannot express, no, nor the first sight
of tIle life. Thcre is no excellent beauty that hath not sonlC
strangencss in the proportion. A nUUl cannot tell whether
A.pelles or Albert Durer wcre the more i trifler; whcreof the one

1
\lmost. For Ule most part; generall!J. '''110 is there almost, whose mind
at some time or other, love or anger, fear or grief, has not fastened to some clog,
that it could not turn itself to any other object.'
2 Excellency. Ex('ellence. 'That the excellency of the po" er may be of God,
and not of us.' -2 Cm'. iv. 7.
3 Soph
-. Sultan.
''''1th letters, him in cautious wise,
They straightway sent to Persia;
llut wrote to the Sophy him to kill.'
-St. George and the Dragon.

4 .Fayour. Countenance.
'I know your farour well, Percy,
Though no\\'
'ou have no sea-cap on your hcad.'-Shakespe1.e.
5 Decent. Becoming; fit. 'All pastimes, generally, which be jOJneò with
labour and in open place, and on the day-lighte, be not only comelie anù decent,
but verie neccssarie for a courtly g(-'ntleman.' -Roger .A.scham.
'Those thousand decencies tllat daily flow
From all her word:-. and actions.' -= .L1Iilton.
6 Gracious. Graceful.
, There was ne'er such a graCiO'lI.
creature borno'-Shakespere.
"I :l\rore. Gloeatn; ,qreat. 'The 11l0relleSS of Christ's virtues are not measured
by world1)' morcne:..:s.'-lrickliff.

39 6

Of Beauty.

[Essay xliii.

,,'ould make a l)ersonage by geometrical proportions, the ot1ler,
by taking the best parts out of divers 1 faces, to nlake one
excellent. Such personages, I think, would please nobody but
the painter that made them-not but I think a painter may
Inake a better face than ever ,vas, but he nlust do it by a kiud
of felicity (as a musician that maketh an excellent air in Irlusic),
and not by rule. A luan shall see faces, that if you examine
them part by part you shall find never a good, and yet altogether
ùo ,veIl. If it he true that the principal part of beauty is in
decent luotion, certainly it is 110 maryel 2 though l)ersons in
)Tears seem lllany times more amiable: 'Pulchrorulll autuIDnus
pulcher'3-for no youth can be comely but by pardon, and con-
sidering the youth as to make up the comeliness. Beauty is as
summer-fruits, v.hich 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 )Tet certainly again) if it light well, it
maketh virtue shine, and vices blu
h.

1 Divers. Many. 'For that (Hre'J"s of the El1glish do maintain and succour
sundry thieves, robbers, anù rebels, because that the same do lJUt them into their
safeguard and counsel . . . '-Statutes and Ordinances maùe in the 4th year of
Henry VI., before the l\Iost Revuend Richard, Archbishop of Dublin, and Lord
.Justice of Ireland, A.D. 1440.
2 Marvel. A wonder. ' Xo ,marvel; for Satan himse1f is transformed into an
nngel of light.'-2 Oor. xi. 14.
ã 'The autumn of the beautiful is beautiful.'

ESS_t Y XLI"'{.

OF DEFOR
IITY.

D EFOR:\IED persons are c0111n10nly even with nature; for
as nature hath done ill by thcm, so do they by nature,
bcing for the most part (as the Scripture saith) 'void of natural
affection:,l and so they have their re\yenge of nature. Cer-
tainly thcre is a consellt 2 bctween the body and the mind, and
'where nature el'reth in the one she ventureth in the other'
(' Ubi pcccat in uno, periclitatur in altero'): but because there
is in man an election touching the frame of his mind, and a
necessity in the frame of his body, the stars of natural inclina-
tion arc sometimes obscured hy the sun of discipline and virtue;
thercfore, it is good to consider of deformity, not as a sign
'which i8 more deceivable, but as a cause which seldom faileth
of the effect. 'Yhosoc,-er hath anything fixed in his person
that doth induce contempt, hath also a perpetual spur in him-
self to rescue and deli yer himself from scorn; therefore, all
defonncd persons are extl'eme 3 bold-first, as in thcir own
defence, as being exposed to scorn, but in process of tin1e by a
gcncral habit. Also, it stirreth in theln industry, and especially
of this kind, to watch and obscrve the weakness of others, that
they 111ay have ::,omewhat to repay. Again, in their superiors,
it quencheth jcalousy towards them, as persons that they think
they may at pleasure despise; and it layeth their cOlnpetitors
and eJnulators asleep, as never believing they should be ill
possibility of advancen1ent, till they see them in possession; so
that upon the 11latter/ in a great wit, dcfornlÍty is an ad ,"antage
to rising. Kings, in ancient times (and at this present, in
some countries), were ,vone to put great trust in eunuchs,

1 Rom. i. 3 r .
2 Consent. Agreement.
, 'Vith one consent, let all the earth
To Gùd their cheerful voices raise.'-Tate's rersiol1, of Psalm C.
:s Extreme. Extremely.
4 :\Iatter. Whole. (' Upon the matter'-On the whole.) 'He grants the deluge
to have come so very near the matter, that but very few cscaped.'-Tillotson.
6 "
ont. To be accustomed. 'K ow at the feast the goyernor was wont to
rdease unto them a prisoner.'-Matt. xxvii. 15.
'I this night, have dream'd,
If dreamed, not as 1 of\:; am 'Wont of thee.'-JIilton.

39 8

Of Defo'nnity.

[Essay xliv.

ùecause they that are envious to-wards all are obnoxious 1 and
officious towards one: but yet their trust towards them hath
rather been as to good spials 2 and good whisl)erers than good
magistrates and officers; and Inuch like is the reason of
deformed persons. Still the ground is, they will, if they be of
spirit, seek to free then1seh'es from scorn, which rnust be either
by virtue or malice;3 and therefore, let it not be nlaryelled/ if
sometinlcs they prove excellcnt persons; as was Agesilaus,
Zanger the son of Solyn1an, Æsop, Gasca, president of Peru;
and Socrates Inay go likewise amongst them, with others.

1 Obnoxious. Subject; submissive. 'The writings of lawyers, which are tied
and obnoxious to their particular laws.'-Bacon.
2 Spials. Spies.
'The Prince's spials have Ínform'd me.'-Shakespere.
:) l\Ialice. rice. (Not, as now, restricted to malevolence.) 'In malice be ye
chilùren.'-I Oor. xiv. 20. 'Not using your liberty for a cloke of maliciousness.'-
I Pet. ii. 16.
4 l\Iarvel. To Iwonder at. ' JIa'rvel not t1mt I said unto thee, ye must be born
agaill.'-Jolm W.

ESSAY XL'T. OF BUILDIXG.

H OUSES are built to live in, and not to look on; therefore,
let use be l>referl'cù before l uniforn1Íty, except where
both may be had. Leave the goodly fabrics of houses, for
beauty, only to the enchanted palaces of the poets, who build
thcnl with snlall cost. lIe that builds a fair house upon an ill
scat,
comn1Ïttcth hinlself to prison-neither do I reckon it an
ill scat only ,,-here the ail' is unwholesome, but likewise where
the air i
unequal; as you shall sce many fine seats set upon a
k nap 3 of grounL1, eu,-iroued with higher hills round about it,
whcreby the heat of thc sun is pent in, and the ,,-ind gathereth
as in troughs; so as" you shall haye, and that suddenly, as great
di,-ersity of heat and cold as if you dwelt in several places.
N either is it ills air only that maketh an in seat, but ill ways,
in Dlarkcts; and if you consult with )IOIllUS, ill ncighbours. I
speak not of many mOl'e; want of water, ,,-ant of wood J shade,
and shelter, want of fruitfulness, and mixture of grounds of
several natures; want of prospect, want of leyel grounds, want
of placcs at SOUle near distance for sports of hunting, hawking,
and races; too near the sea, too remote; havillg the commodity6
of navigablc rivers, or the discolnmodit y l of their overflowing;
too far off from great cities, which may hindcr business; or too

1 Preferreù before. Priferred to.
'0 :::ipirit, that dost prefer
Before all tem}Jlcs, the upright heart and pure,
Instruct me.'-!JIilton.

Sèat. Site. 'It remaineth now that \\ e find out the seat of Eden.'-
RaZe;!!'/,.
3 I\: nap. .A. prominence; a lmoll.
'Hark, on knap of Jonder hill,
Some sweet shepherd tUlles his quill.'-B,'own.
4 As. That. See page 22.
5 Ill. Bad.

'There some ill planet reigns.'-Shakespere.
6 Commodity. Adl.'antage; convenience. See page 379.
7 Discommodity. Disadvantage. Sèe page 3 80 .

4 00

Of Building.

[Essay xlv.

near them, \vhich lurcheth 1 all provisions, and maketh every-
thing dear; ,,,here a man hath a great living laid together, and
where he is scanted;2 all ,vhich, as it is Ünpossible perhaps to
find together, so it is good to know them, and think of theIn,
that a man may take as many as he can; and, if he ha\-e several
dwellings, that he sort 3 them so, that ,vhat he "ranteth in the
one he may find in the other. Lucullus answered Pompey ,veIl,
,vho) when he saw his stately galleries and roonlS so large anù
1ightsome, in one of his houses, said, ( Surely an excellent place
for summer, but how do you in .winter?' Lucullus answered,
"'Vhy do you not think lue as ,vise as some fowls are, that eyer
change their abode towards the winter?' 4
To pass from the seat to the house itself, ,,-e will do as Cicero
cloth in the orator's art, ,vho writes books De Ora tore, and a
book he entitles Orator; ,,-hereof the former deliyers the
precepts of the art) and the latter the perfection. "r e will
therefore describe a princely palace, making a brief model
thereof; for it is strange to see, now in Europe, such huge
buildings as the 'T atican and Escurial, and some others be, and
yet scarce a very íair 5 room in them.
First, therefore, I say, you cannot have a perfect palace,
except you haye two severa1 6 sides; a side for the banquet, as
is spoken of in the book of Esther, and a side for the house-
hold; the one for feasts and triumphs,7 and the other for
d"relling. I understanù both these sides to be not ouly returns,
but parts of the front; and to be uniform ,vithout) though
severaHy partitioned within; and to be on both sides of a great
and stately tower in the nlidst of the front, that, as it \vere,
joilleth them together on either hand. I ,,-ould have, on the

1 Lurch. To absolrb. (From l'O'lwclle-a game in which the stakes are put into
a box, where the loser is obliged to leave them. Hence perhaps the expression
, to be left in the lurch.')
2 Scanted. Limited; restricted. ' I am 6canted in the pleasure of dwelling on
your actions.' -Dryden.

Sort. To ch'llse.
'To sOld some gentleman well skilled in music.'-Shakespere.
4 Pluto Vito IAwull. 3 0 .
S J!'air. Ha Izdso me.
· Carry him to my fairest chamber.'-Sltakespere.
6 Several. Separate. ' He dwelt in a set'eral house.'-2 Kings xv. 5.
7 Triumphs. Shvws on festive occasions. See page 352.

Es
ay xlL]

Of Buildin!!.

4 01

ide of thc hanquet in front, one only goodly room above stairs,
of SOBle forty feet high; and undcr it a room for a dressing, or
preparing place, at times of triunlphs. On the othcr side,
which is thc houschold sidc, I wish it dividcd at the first into a
hall and 3 chapel, with a partition between, both of good state
and bigness, I and those not to go all the length, but to have at
thc farther cnd a winter and a summer parlour, both fair; ana
under these rooms a fair and large cellar sunk un
er grounù;
and likewise SOlne privy kitchens, with butteries and pantries,
and the likc. .A.s for the tower, I would ha,re it two stories, of
eightecn feet high a-piece above the two wings; and goodly leads
upon the top, railed ,,-ith statues interposed; and the same
tower to be dividcd into r00I11S, as shall be thought fit. The
stairs likewise to the upper rooms, let then1 be upon a fair and
open ncwel, and finely railed in with in1ages of 'wood cast into a
brass colour, and a ,.ery fair landing-place at the top. But thi

to be, if you do not point 2 any of the lower rooms for a dining
place of servants; for otherwise, you shall have the servants'
dinner after your own, for the steam of it will come up as in a
tunnel. .And so luuch for the front, only I understand the
hcight of the first stairs to be sixteen feet, which is the height
of the lower room.
Beyond this front is there to be a fair court, but three sides
of it of a far lower building than the front; and in all the four
corners of that court fair staircases, cast into turrets on the
outside, and not within the rows of buildings thelllseh-es; but
thosc towers are not to be of the height of the front, but rather
}Jroportionahle to the lower building. Let the court not be
lmvcd, for that striketh up a great heat in summc-r, and much
cold ill winter, but only sonIC side alleys" ith a cross, and the
quartcrs to graze, being kept shorn, but not too near shorn.
The row of return on thc banquet side, let it be all stately
galleries; in "hich galleries let t!lere be three or five fine
cupolas in the' length of it, placed at equal distance, and fine
coloured winùows of se,-eral works; on the household side,

1 ni;ness. Size, 'whether great or small. ( Several sorts of raJs make vibration

of several bignesses.' --Sir Isaac

ewton.
:: Point. To appoint.
( To celebrate the solemn bridall cheere
'Twixt Peleus anù dame Thetis pointed there.'-Spellscr.
DD

4 0 2

Of Building.

[Essay xlv.

chambers of presence and ordinary entertainments, ,vith some
bed-chalnbers j and let all three sides be a double house, .without
thorough lights on the sides, that you lllay haye rooms froln the
SUll, both for forenoon and afternoon. Case it also that you
may have rooms both for SUlnmer and "'inter, shady for summer
and warm for wiuter. You shall have sometimes fair houses so
full of glass, that one cannot tell where to become 2 to be out of
the sun or cold. For embowecJ3 "rindows, I hold them of good
use; in cities, indeed, upright do better, in respect of the uni-
formity towards the street j for they be pretty retiring places for
conference, and, besides, they keep both the wind and sun off-
for that which would strike almost through the room, doth
scarce pass the 'windo,v; but let them be but few, four in the
court, on the sides only.
Beyond this court, let there be an in,vard-t court, of the same
square and height, which is to be environed .with the garden on
all sides; and in the illside, cloistered on all sides upon decent
and beautiful arches, as high as the first storey; on the under
storey, towards the garden, let it be turned to a grotto, or place
of shade, or estivation; and only have opening and 'windows
towards the garden, and be level up911 the floor, no whit 5 sunk
under ground, to avoid all dampishlless; and let there be a
fountain, or some fair "rork of statues in the midst of the
court, and to be paved as the other court "Was. These buildings
to be for priyy lodgings on both sides, and the end for privy
galleries; whereof you must foresee that one of them be for an
infirmary, if the prince or any special person should be sick,
,,,ith chambers, bed-chamber, (antecamera' [( anti-chanlber'],

] Cast. To plan.
, From that day forth, I cast in careful mind
To keep Ler out.'-S'penser.
2 Become. To betake oneself.
, I cannot joy until I be resolved
'Vhere our right valiant father
Is óecome.'-Shakespere.
3 Embo.ved. Bowed.
, I saw a bull as white as drÏ\
en snow,
'Vith gilden horns, embO'iced like the moon.' -Spenser.
4 Inward. Inner. 'Though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is
renewed ùay by day.'-2 Cor. iv.
6 '''hit. The least degree. See page 3t;2.

E
say xlv.]

OJ Building.

4 0 3

and (rccamera' [( rctiring-chambcr,' or (back-chambcr'J joining
to it; this upon the second storey. Upon the ground storey, a
fair gall cry, opcn, upon pillars; and upon the thirù story like-
"isc, an opcn gallcry upon pillars, to take the prospect and
fl'c:5hness of the garden. At both corners of the farthcr side,
by way of return, let there be two delicate or rich cabinets,
daintilyl paved, richly hanged/ glazed with crystalline glass,
and a rich cupola in the midst, and all other elegancy that nlay
be thought upon. In the upper gallery, too, I ,vish that there
Dlay be, if the place will yield it, some fountains running in
divers 3 places fl'om the ,vall, with some fine avoidances. 4 And
thus much for the model of the palace; save that you must
haye, befol'e you COlne to the front, three courts-a green court
plain, with a "
all about it; a second court of the same, but
more garnished with little turrets, or rather embellishments,
upon the wall; and a third court, to make a square with the
front, hut not to be built, nor yet enclosed with a naked wall,
but enclosed with terraces leaded aloft, and fairly garnished on
the three sides, and cloistereù on the inside with pillars, and
not with arches below. As for offices, let them stand at
distance, wi th some lo,v galleries to pass from them to the
palace itself.

1 Daintily. Elegantly. See page I.
2 Hanged. Hung (with draperies). '.i\Iusic is better in rooms wainscotted than
hallged.'-Bacon.
:s Divers. Many. See page 18 5.
4 Avoidances. TVáter-courses. 'The two avoidances or passages of water.'-
Statute, 8th !leat' of King lIe1l'/"!I VII.

D D Z

ESSAY XL'TI. OF GARDENS.

G OD AL!\iIGHTY first planted a garden, and, indeed, it is
the purest of human pleasures; it is the greatest refresh-
ment to the spirits of man, ,vithout ,vhich building and palaces
are but gross handy-works: and a man shall ever see, that when
ages grow to civilityl and elegancy/ men come to build stately,
sooner than to garden finely; as if gardening were the greater
perfection. I do hold it, in the royal ordering of gardens, there
ought to be gardens for all the months in the year, in ,vhich,
severally, things of beauty3 may be then in season. For De-
cember and January, and the latter part of November, you
must take such things as are green all winter; holly, ivy, bays,
juniper, c
Tpress-trees, ye,,,, pines, fir-trees, rosemary, lavender;
periwinkle, the white, the purple, and the blue; germander,
flag, orange-trees, lemon-trees, and myrtles, if they be stovcd;
and sweet marjoraln, warm set. There follo-weth, for the latter
part of January and February, the mezereon tree, which then
blossoms; crocus vernus, both the yellow and the grey; prim-
roses, anemones, the early tulip, hyacinthus orientalis, chamaïris,
fritellaria. For J\Iarch} there come violet8, especially the single
blue, which are the earliest; the early daffodil, the daisy, the
almond-tree in blossoln, the peach-tree in blossom, the cornel ian-
tree in blossom, s\veet-briar. In April, follow the double white
violet, the ,vall-flower, the stock-gilliflower, the co,,-slip, flower-
de
luces, -1 and lilies of all natures; rosemary-flowers, the tulip,
the double peony, the pale daffodil, the French honeysuckle, the
cherry-tree in blossom, the damascene and plum-trees in blossoln,
the white thorn in leaf, the lilac-tree. In J\Iay and J uue con1C
pinks of all sorts, especially the blush pink; roses of all kinds,

1 Civility. Civilization.
"'"'fleresoe'er her conquering eagles fled,
Arts, learning, and civility were spread.'-Dennam.
2 Elegancy. See page 35 2 .
3 Things of beauty. Reautiful things.
, A tiling of beauty is a joy for ever !'
.. Flower-de-luces. The iris.

Essay xh'i.]

Of Ga).dells.

4 0 5

c
ccpt the musk, which comes later; honeysucklcs, stra"rberries,
bugloss, colurllhine, the Freuch rnarigold, flos AfricanuH, cherry.
tree ill fruit, ribes; figs in fruit, rasps/ vine flowers, lavender
in flowers, the swcet satyrian, ,,,ith the white flower: herba
n1uscal'ia, lilium convallium, the applc-tree in blossom. In
July corue gilliflowcl's of all varieties, lnwsk roses, the lin1e-tree
in blossom, early pears, and plun1s in fl'uit, gennitings/ quodlins. 4
In August come plulns of all sorts in fruit, pears, apricocks, Ii
barberrics/ filberds,7 musk melons, monks-hoods, of all colours.
In Scptelnber COlne gral)es, apples, poppies of all colours,
l>eaehes, 1lleloeotones,s nectarine
, corueliaus/ wardens,lO quinces.
In October and the begiuning of X ovember come services,11
medIal's, ùullaces, roses cut or reu]oved to come late, hollyoaks,12
and such like. These particulars are for the clin1ate of London:
but lny Incaning is percei,'ed, that you Inay have ver perpetulln
/s
as the place affords.
And bec>ause the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air
(where it comes and goe:::" like the warbling of music) than in
the lland, therefore nothing is 1110re fit for that delight, than to

1 Ribes. Curranfs.
2 Hasps. Raspbe'rries.
, X ow will the corinths, now the rasps, supply
Delicious draughts.'-Phillips.
3 Gennitings. Jennethin!Js (June-eating; but supposed by some to be a corrup-
tion from J aneton, being so called after a
cotch lady of that name).
4 Quodlin
. Codlins.
5 Apricocks. Apricots.
, Go bind thou up yon dangling apricoclt's,
'Yhie}}, like unrul.r children, malie their sire
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight.' -Shakespere.
6 Barberries. Berberries.
; .Filbcrds. Filberts.

, I'll bring thee
To clustering filberds. "-Sltake.r;pere.
8 l\[elocotone. A large peacl". II Cornelians. Che'rms.
10 ""ardens. A lG1''!Je keeping pear.
, Sow must all shoots of pears alike be set,
Crustinian, S)Tian pears, and u'ardells great.'-)Iay's Vi.rgil.
11 Scrvi('es. A plant and fì'Uit (
orbus). 'October is drawn in a garment of

'enow and canmtion; in his left hund, a basket of serrices, medIal's, and other
fruits that ripcnlate.'-Peackanz.
12 Hollyoahs. Hollyhocks. ' Hollyoaks far exceed poppies for their durablcness,
and are far more ornamental.'-Morlimer.
13 A l)crpetual
pring.

4 06

Of Gardens.

[Essay xh-i.

}rnow "what be the flo"Ters and plants tl1at do best perfume the
air. Roses, damask and red, are fast l flowers of their smells;
so that you may ,valk by a whole row of them, and find
nothing of their sweetness, yea/ though it be in a morning's
dew. Bays, likewise, yield no smell as they gro,v, rosemary
little, nor sweet marjoram; that ,vhich, above all others, yields
the sweetest smen in the air, is the violet; especially the white
double violet, ,yhieh comes twice a-rear-about the middle of
April, and about Bartholome,v - tide. Next to that is the musk
rose; then the strawberry leaves dying, with a most excellent
cordial smen; then the flower of the vines-it is a little dust
like the dust of a bent/ which grows upon the cluster in the
first coming forth-then sweetbriar, then ,'raIl-flowers, ,vhich
are very delightful to be set under a parlour or lower chamber
window; then pinks and gilliflowers, especially the matted pink
and clove-gilliflowers; then the flo\vers of the lime-tree; then
the honeysuckles, so they be some-what afar off. Of bean-
flowers I speak not, because they are field flo,vers: but those
which perfume the air most delightful1y, not passed by as the
rest, but being trodden upon and crushed, are three, that is,
burnet, wild thyme, and ,vater-mints; therefore, you are to set
whole alleys of them, to have the pleasure when
You .walk or
tread.
For gardens (speaking of those ,,,hich are, indeed, prince-
like/ as we have done of buildings), the contents ought not 'well
to be under thirty acres of ground, and to be divided into three
parts; a green in the entrance, a heath or desert in the going
forth, and the main garden in the midst, besides alleJ's on both

1 Fast. TenaciO'lts.

Yet an this while in a mostfast sleep.'-Shakespere.
2 Yea. NaLl!: not only this, but more than tlâ.
. '.For behold, this self-same thing
that Je sorrowed after a god]J sort, w]mt carefulness it wrought in you, what
clearing of yourselves, yea what indignation, yea what fear, yea what vehement
desire, yea what zeal, yea what revenge.'-2 Cor. vii. J I.
'1 am weary; !lea my memory is tired.'-Skakespere.
3 Bent. Bent-grass.
, His spear a bent both stiff and strong,
And well near of two inches long.'-Drayton.
'June is drawn in a mantle of dark grass green upon a garland of bents, king-cups,
and maiden-hair.' - Peacham.
4 Prince-like. Princely.
(The wrongs he did me have nothing prince-like.'-Shakespere.

E:--
ay
lvi.J

OJ Garden.
.

4 0 7

sidc
; and I likc well tllat four acres of ground be assigned to
the green, Ri
to the heath, four anù four to either l side,
and t wch'c to the main garùen. 'rhe green hath two pleasures:
the one, because nothing is more pleasant to the eye than green
gra
s kept fincly shorn; the othcr, because it will give you a
fair alley in the mi(1st, by ,,-hieh you may go in front upon a
statcly heclge, whieh is to enclose the garden: hut hccause the
alley ,,-ill be long, and, in great heat of the year, or day, )TOU
ought not to buy the shade in the gardcn hy going in the sun
through the green, therefore you are, of cither side the green,
to plant a covel't alley, upon carpenters' work, about twelve
feet in height, by which you Inay go in shade into the garden.
As for the making of knots, or figures, with divers-coloured 2
cal'th
, that they 111ay lie under the 'windows of the house on
that side on which the garden stands, they be but toys: you
may see as good sights many tÏlnes in tarts. The garden is
best to be square, encompassed on all the four sides with a
stately arched hedge; the arches to be upon pillars of car-
penters' work, of some ten feet high, and six feet broad, and
the spaces between of the same dimensions with the breadth of
the arch. O,-er the arches let there be an entire hedge of
some four feet high, framed also upon carpenters' ,york j and
upon the upper hedge, over eyery arch, a little turret, ,,-ith a
belly3 enough to receiye a cage of birds: and o"er every space
between the arches SOllie other little figure, with broad plates
of round coloured glass gilt, for the sun to play upon: but this
hedge I intend to be raised UpOl1 a bank, not steep, but gently
slope, 4 of SOUle six feet, set all with flowers. Also, I under-
stand that this square of the garden should not be the whole
breadth of the ground, but to leave on either side ground
enough for diversity of side alleys, unto which the t" 0 covert

I Either. Each. See page 29 I.
2 Divèr;)-colour
d. Of varioll-s colours.
'bmiling Cupi(lg,
"'lth divers-coloured fans.'-Slzakespere.
3 Bell)'. See page 19 2 .
.. ::'lopc. Sloping.

, ::\[ urmuring waters fall
Down the slope hill
, dispersed, or in a lake,
That to the frin6ed b,mks, with myrtle crown'd,
Her cryst:\l mirr0r ho111:o;, ullite their strcallis.'-JIiU()n.

4 08

OJ Gardens.

l Essay xl vi.

alleys of the green may deliver you; but there must be no
alleys .with hedges at either end of this great enclosure-not at
the hither end, for letting] your prospect upon this fair hedge
from the green-nor at the farther end, for letting your prospect
from the hedge through the arches upon the heath.
For the ordering of the ground within the great hedge, I
leave it to variety of device, advising, ne,'ertheless, that ,,,hat-

oever form you cast it into first, it be not too busy/ or full of
,york; 'v herein I, for my part, do not like images cut out in
juniper or other garden stuff-they be for children. Little
Jo,v hedges, round like ,velts/ ,yith some pretty pyramids, I like
,veIl; and in some places fair columns, upon frames of car-
}1enters' ,york. I would also have the alleys spacious and fair.
You may have closer alleys upon the side grounds, but none in
the 111ain garden. I ,,-ish, also, in the very middle, a fair
)llOunt, ,,-ith three ascents and alleys, enough for four to ,,-alk
abreast, which I would have to be perfect circles, without any
bulwarks or embossn1ents;4 and the ,,-hole mount to be thirty
feet high, and some fine banqueting-house, ,vith some chimneys
neatly cast, and without too much glass.
For fountains, they are a great beauty and refreslllnent; but
pools mar aU, and mak e the garden unwholesome, and full of
flies and frogs. Fountains I intend to be of two natures, the
one that sprinkleth or spouteth water; the other a fair receiptS
of water, of some thirty or forty feet square, but ,vithout any
fish, or slime, or mud. For the first, the ornaments of images,
gilt, or of marble, which are in use, do well; but the main
matter is so to convey the ,vater as 6 it never stay, either in the
bowls or in the cistern-that the water be neyer ùy rest disco-
loured, green or red, or the like, or gather any mossiness or
putrefaction; besides that, it is io be cleansed every day by the

1 I.Jct. To hinder. 'Ofttimes I purposed to come unto you, but was let hitherto.'
-Romans i. 13.
2 Busy (now only applied to the agent, and not to the
ubject). Elaborate.
3 "T elts. Edging; border. 'Certain scioli, or smatterers, may have some cdging,
or trimming, of a scholar, a welt or so; but no ll1ore.'-Ben Jonson.
4 Embo

ments. AuylltÏng ldaJlding out from the rest. 'It expresses the great
eJ}tbossment of the figurc.'-Addison.
5 Receptacle; place for receiving. 'He saw :Matthew sitting at the receipt of
custom.'-.JIark ii. 14.
6 As. That. See page 22.

ay xh-i.]

OJ Gardens.

4 0 9

hanc1-al:-\o some steps up to it, and sonle fine pavement about
it do "ell. As for the othcr kind of fountain, which we may
call a bathing-pool, it lnay adnlÍt runch curio
ityl and beauty,
wherewith wc will not trouble our:5elves: as, that the bottoln
lJC fiuely paycd, and with images; the sides likewise j and withal
clnbellishcd with colourcd gl:t
s, and such things of lustre, en-
conlpa
scd also with fiue rails of low statuas / but the main
voillt is the same which we mentioncd in the former kind of
fountain, which is, that the ,vater be in perpetual motion, fed
by a water higher than the pool, and delivercd into it by fair
spouts, and then dischargcd away undcr ground, by SOllIe
equality of bores, that it stay little; and for fine devices, of
arching watcr without spilling, and making it rise in several
forms (of feathers, drinking glasses, canopies, and the like),
they bc pretty things to look on, but nothing to health and
swectness.
For the heath, which was the third part of our plot, I wished
it to be framed as much as may be to a natural ,-rilcIness.
rrrec
I would have none in it, but sOUle thickets ulade only of
sweetbriar and honeysucklc, and sonle wild vines amongst, and
the ground set with yiolets, strawberries, and primroses; for
these arc swect, and prosper in the shade, and these are to be
in thc heath here and there, not in any order. I like also little
heaps, in the nature of rHole-hills (such as are in wild heaths),
to be set, some with wild thynle, some ,,-ith pinks, some with
germander, that givcs a good flower to the eye; some with peri-
.winkle, some with violets, some with strawberries, son1e with
cowslips, some ,vith daisies, SOD1e with reel roses, some with lilium
cOllvaUiunl, sonle with swcet-williauls red, some with beal"s-foot,
and the like low fiowcrs, being withal sweet and sightly-part
of which heaps to be with standards of little bushes pricked
upon their top, and part without-th
standards to be roses,
junipcr, holly, berherries (but here and there, because of the
sn1cll of thcir blossom), red currants, gooseberries, rosemary,
bays, sweetbrial', and such like; but thesc standards to be kept
with cutting, that they gr01v not out of course.
t'or the side grounds, you are to fill then! with variety of

1 Curiosity. Elegance.
2 C Even at the ba
c of Púmre,y's staflla.'-
ha1:espere.J Jul. Cæsar.

4 10

Of Gar'dens.

[Essay xlyi.

alleys) private to giye a full shade; some of thenl wheresoever l
the sun be. You are to frame some of them likewise for
shelter, that, ,yhen the wind blows sharp, you may walk as in
a gallery; and those alleys ill ust be likewise hedged at both
ends, to keep out the .wind, and these closer alleys must be eyer
finely grayelled, and no grass, because of going
wet. In many
of these alleys, like'\Vise, you are to set fruit-trees of all sorts,
as '\VeIl upon the .walls as in ranges; and this should be gene-
rally obser\"ec1, tllat the borders "Therein you plant your fruit...
trees be fair, and large, and lo,v, and not steep, and set with
fine flowers, but thin and sparingly, lest they deceive 3 the trees.
At the end of both the side grounds I ,vould have a mount of
some pretty height, leaving the wall of the enclosure breast-high,
to look abroad into the fields.
For the main garden, I do not deny but there should be sonle
fair alleys ranged on both sides, ,vith fruit-trees, and some
pretty tufts of fruit-trees and arbours with seats, set in some
decent order; but these to be by no means set too thick, but
to leaye the main garden so as it be not close, but the air open
and free. For as for shade, I .would have you rest upon the
alleys of the side grounds, there to walk, if JOU be disposed) in
t.he heat of the year or day; but to make account, that the
main garden is for the more temperate parts of the year, and,
in the heat of sunlmer, for the morning and the evening, or
overcast days.
For aviaries, I like them not, except they be of that large-
ne
s as they nlay be turfed, and have living plants and bushes
set in them, that the birds nlay have more scope and natural
nestling, and that no foulne8s appear on the floor of the aviary.
So I haye made a platform of a princely garden, partly by IJl'C-
cept, partly by drawing-not a moùel, but some general lines

1 'Vheresoever. IVherever. 'lVheresoever the body is, thither will the eagles
be gathered together.'-Luke xvii. 37.
2 Go. To tend to.
, There be some women . . . . . .
. . . . would have gone near to fall in lovE' with him.'-Shakespere.
3 Deceive. To deprive by stealth; to rob. 'And so deceiL'e the spirits of the
body, und rob them of their nourishment.'-Bacon. 'Rathel' than I would embezzle
or deceive him ofa mite, 1 would it were moult, and put into my ll10uth.'-Cavenùi:sh,
Life of Cardinal lrÓlsey.

E:5 s ay xlvi.]

Of G(/í'dens.

4 1 I

of it-and in this I have sparcd] for no cost; but it is nothing
for grcat princes, that, for the most part, taking advice with
".orkmcn, with no lcss cost set their things togcther, and SOlne-
tin1cs add :statues, and such things, for state and nlagnificence,
l)ut nothing to the true pleasure of a garden.

I ::5pare. To restrict oneself; to forbear.
'Ye might ha'"e slJal'ed our coming.'-JIilton.

ESSAY XL "II. OF NEGOTIATING.

I T is generally better to deal by sp
ech than by letter, and by
the mediation of a thinJ than by a nlan's self. Letters are
good, when a man ,yould draw an answer by letter back again,
or "hen it Inay serve for a nlan's justification afterwards to
}>l'oduce his own letter: or ,,-here it may be danger to be in-
terrupted, or heard by pieces. To deal in person is good, ,,,hen
a man's face breedeth regard, as conlmonly ,vith inferiors; or
in tender cases, ,vhere a mall'S eye upon the countenance of him
,vith whom he speaketh may give him a direction ho,v far to go;
and generally, "'here a man ",ill reserve to himself liberty,
either to disavow or expound. In choice of illstl'1Unents, it is
better to chuse men of a plainer sort, that are like to do that
t11at is committed to them, and to report back again faithfully
the success, than those that are cunning 1 to contrive out of other
men's business somewhat to grace themseh-es, and will help the
Inatter in report, for satisfilction sake. Use also such persons
as affect 2 the business wherein they are elnployed, for that
quickeneth n1uch; and such as are fit for the matter, as bold
Inen for expostulation, fair-spoken nlen for persuasion, crafty
TIlen for inquiry and observation, fro,yard and absurd men for
business that doth not ,veIl bear out itself. Use also such as
have been lucky, and prevailed before in things 'wherein you
have elnployed thcln; for that breeds confidence, and they will
strive to maintain their prescription. I t is better to sound a
person with ,,,horn one deals, afar off, than to fall upon the point
at first, except you mean to surprise him by SOine short question.
It is better dealing ,vith TIlen in appetite/ than with those that
are ,vhere they ,vould be. If a man deal with another upon

1 Cunning. Skilful.
I win take away the cunning artificer/-Isaiah iii. 3.

I will send you a man of mine
Cunning in music and the mathelllatics/-ShakeslJere.
'Z Affect. To like. See page 357,
3 Appetite. Desire.
, Dexterity so obeying appetite,
That what he wills, lIe <.loes.' -Sltakespere.

E
say
l \'ii.]

Annotations.

4 1 3

conditions, the start of first performance is all; which a man
canllot l'ea
ollahly demand, except either the nature of the thing
be such which nUlst go before; or el
e a nlan can persuade the
other party, that he shall still need binl in son1e other thing;
or clse that he be counted the honester man. All practice! is to
di
('over, or to work.
Ien discover themseh"es in trust, in
lm:-;sion, at una" ares; and of necessity, when they 'would have
somewhat done, aud eannot find an apt pretext. If you ,vould
""ork any man, you must either kllO\V his nature or fashions/
and so lead him; or his ends, and
o persuade him; or his
'\\eaknc
8 and disadvantages, and so awe him; or those that
have interest in him, and so govern hiln. In dealing with
cunning persons, ,ye must ever consider their ends to interpret
their speeches; and it is good to say little to them, and that
"hich they least look for. In all negotiations of difficulty, a
man may not look to sow and reap at once, but 111ust prel)al'C
business, and so ripen it by degrees.

AKKOTATIONS.

, It is generally hetter to deal hy speeclt titan by letter.'

It is a pity Bacon did not say more, though what he does
say is very just-on the comparative reasons for discussing
c\ ery matter orally, and in 2 1 'riting. K ot that a set of rules
could he devised for the elnploynlent of eaeh, that should super-

edc the need of cautious observation , and saO"acious reflection.
o ,
for 'what art,' a
he himself has observed 'can teach the suit-

1 Practice. Negotiation; skilful m.anagement.
He ought to baye that Ly
practice, which he could not by prayer.'-SidIlPY. Thus, also, the verb:
, I have practised with him,
And found means to let the victor know,
That

'phax and Sempronius are his friemls.'-Addison.
2 Fashion. JV'a!!; manner; habit.

Pluck Casca by the sleen',
And he will, after his ownfashion, tell YOU
""hat hath procecùeù.'-SltakeslJere. .

4 1 4

Of Negotiating.

[Essay xlvii.

able employment of an art?' (Genius begins,' as some one
else has remarked, (where rules end.' But well-framed rules-
such as Bacon doubtless could have giyell us in this matter-
instead of cramping genius, enable it to act more efficiently.
One advantage .which, in son1e cases, the speaker possesses
oyer the '''Titer is, that he can proceed exactly in the order
,,-hich he judges to be the best; establishing each IJoillt in suc-
cession, and perhaps keeping out of sight the conclusion to
,,-hich he is advancing, if it be one against ,y}1Ïch there exists a
I>rejudice. For sOlnetimes Inen ,,-ill feel the force of strong
argun1cnts ,vhich they .would not have listened to at all, if they
}lad known at the outset to what they ,,-ere ultimately leading.
Thus the lawyer, in the fable, is drawn into giving a right
decision as to the duty of the owner of an ox ,vhich had gored
a neighbour's. K ow, though you may proceed in the same
order in a letter or a book, you cannot-if it is all to be laid
before the reader at once-l)revent his looking first at the end,
to see what your ultimate design is. And then you nlay be
discomfited, just as a ,vell-dl'awll-up army nlight be, if attacked
in the 'rear.
l\Iany writers of Inodern tales have guarded against this, and
prpclnded their readers froin forestalling the conclusion, by pub-
lishing in successive nU'lnbers. .A.nd an analogous advantage
may sonletimes be secured by ,yriting two or more letters in
succession, so as gradually to de,.clop the arguments in their
proper order.
In oral discussions, quickness may give a man a great adyan-
tage over those who may, perhaps, surpass him in sound judg-
ment, but who take Inore time to form their opinions, and to
develop their reasons; and, universally, speaking has an advan-
tage over .writing when the arguments are plausible, but flimsy.
There is a story of an Athenian, ,vho had a speech written for
him in a cause he was to plead, by a professional orator, and
which he ,,,as to learn by heart. At the first reading, he ,vas
òelighted ,,'ith it; but less at the second; and at the third, it
seemed to him quite ,vorthless. He went to the corûposer to
complain; ",-110 l'eminded him that the judges were only to hear
it once.
And hence, as has been justly l'emarked, the very early prac-
tice of much public speaking, tends to cultivate, in the person

E
say xlvii.)

Annotations.

4 1 5

hiuIsclf, a hahit of }'cadincss and flucncy, at the e:\.pcnse of
careful iu\'cstigation and accurate reasouIng. l .A. work requiring
th(;sc qualitics-sueh as, for instance, a sound trcatise on Poli-
tical E(.ononlY-' Inight better be expectcd,' says )Ir. !\Iacaulay,
'fron1 an apothccary in a country-town, or a nlinister in the
IIcbridcs, than frolll a luan who, frolll the age of tweuty-one,
had becn a practiscd debater ill pnhlic.'
1 1 '01' sound reasoning, on the other hand, when opposed to
existing prejudices, writing has a corresponding advantage over
speaking. SonIc plau
ible, though insufficient, objection to
w hat has ùccn urgcd, may at once start up, as soon as the
al'gU111en t meets the ear or the eye; and in an oral discussion
this lTIay :seem to ha\Te finally disposed of the matter, and the
"hole loay pass away fron1 the mind. But written ,,'ords
rCluaill, as it werc, staring you in the face, and are yirtually
rcpcatcll OVCl' and oyer again each time of re- perusal. T t must
be a really satisfactory refutation that can set the n1ind quite at
ease in this casc. For this is the converse of the case of the
specch above alluded to. Sound argunlents appear stronger
and strongcl' each tinle they are re-considered.
Oral discussion has this advantage in fayour of the disin-
genuous and crafty-that sonlething may be conveyed by the
tone of voice, looks, and gestures, which cannot be accurately
reported, or at least so as to he satisfactorily pro\-ed; and
thus conte111pt, or su:spicion, or incredulity, or disapprohation,
&c., lllay be so conveyed as not to commit a man. And even
words actually spoken may be denied; or some (alleged) expla-
nation of thcm lllay be added; and it will be difficult to bring
hOIlle to a man conclusively what he did, or did not, say, because
fcw witllc:s
es will be prepared to make oath as to the yery
words spokcn. 'Yhat is written, on the other hand, is a stand-
ing witness, and cannot be so easily explained away.
There is this difference again beh\ een speaking and writing;
that there is 110 use in saying anything, howeyer reasonable and
foreiblc, which you are sure will haye no weight ",-ith the persons
).ou are speaking to. For there are persons whonl to attempt
to COIn ince by eyen the strongest }'eaS011S, and most cogent

1 Oral translation from a foreign language, it is remarked by Dr. Arnold, gives
flucnc
. of
pe

h without carelessness of thought. .

4 16

Of Negot iatin!/.

[Essay x]yii.

arguments, is like I(ing Lear putting a letter before a man
without eyes, and saying, '
Iark but the penniug of it!' to
which he ans,vers, ",r ere all the letters suns, I could not see
one.' But it may be well 'worth while sometimes to write to
such a person much that is not likely to influence him at all, if
you have an opportunity of showing it to others, as a proof that
he ought to have been convinced by it.
As for speeches in public, they may he considered as par-
taking of both characters; for, as they are taken down by the
reporters, and printed, they are, so far, of the character of,vritten
compositions.
Bacon remarks in his essay on 'Cunning,' that when there
are two persons only conferring together, it is Ílnpossihle to
make it clear which of them said .what. If either of them is
trying to back out of something he has said, or practising any
other kind of craft, he ,,,ill be likely to say' I understood you to
say so and so.' , You misunderstood me. I did not say so and so.'
And when both parties are honest, there will be sometimes
a real misapprehension of what passed orally; 'which is so fre-
quent a cause of quarrels, that the very 'word 'misunderstand.
ing' has come to be used in that sense.
'Vhen the expressions in dispute are not merely what la,vyers
call' obiter dicta'-something hastily and incidentally thrown
out,-but contain the very drift and general tenor of a full and
leisurely discussion of some matter, it is to be observed that it is
much nlorc likely-other things being equal-that A. should
have forgotten "hat he said, than that B. should have imagincd
'what never took place. Yet there are some persons ,rho, with-
out any disingenuous design, but merely from a groundless con-
fidence in the infallibility of their own memory, will insist on it
that another has totally mista"ken the 'whole drift of their dis-
course, and that they never said anything at all like ,,-hat 11e
distinctly remembers-,vhat he closely attended to-and what
made a strong impression on his mind. In such a case, he
might fairly reply , Well, it cannot be denied to be jJossible that
one man may mistake another, to any extent, and under any
circumstances; but if this is the case with me, there is no U8e
in your speaking to 'lne at all, now, or at any time. For if I
am unable to understand aright the general drift of a discus-
sion, in plain English, and to which I paid the closest atten-

E
say xlvii.]

Annotations.

4 I j

tion, how can I be sure that the sense I undcrstand your words
to COll\TCY at this very Inonlent, may Hot be something quite a

differcnt frolll your real nlcalling, as that which I formcr]y
understood you to say? rrhere must be an end therefore of all
oral conference bctwccn us. Anything that you wish to COlll-
n
nllicate, you lllust put down on paper, and let me, on reading
it, express, on paper also, in my own words, what it is that I
understand from it; and then, these must be shown to one or
two other persons, who nlust declare whether I have rightly
understood you or not;
lnd 111Ust explain my mistake if I have
maùe any.'
}'or people who are slippery, either from design or from
treacherous memory, there is nothing like writing.
But it Inay be rernal'keù generally, that a person who is apt
to cOlllplain of 'not being understood,' e\Tcn by such as possess
ordinary illtclligencc and candour, is one who does not well un-
derstand himself.
A relllark of Dr. Cooke Taylor, in The Bishop, bears upon
this subject :-' l\Iuch judgn1ellt is required to discriminate
bctween the occasions when business can be best done per-
sonally, and when best by letter. One general rule nlay be
lloted,-disagreelnents will be best jJrevented by oral communi-
cations, for then each rnan may throw out what occurs to hinl,
without being committed in writing to sOlnething fro In which
he would be ashalned to draw back. There is room for nlutual
e
planation-for softening down harsh expressions-for corning
to an understanding about common objccts, which very probably
arc not inconsi
tent so long as the clements of discord retain
the Yagnclless of spoken words. Litu'a scripta 'filanet.
"YhCll, however, disagreenients actually exist, the opposite
course 111Ust be Inlrsued; in such a case conversation has an
ineyitahlc tendency to become debate; and ill the heat of argu-
Incnt sOlnethillg is likely tu be thrown out offensive to one

ic1e or the other. Adycrsarics generally meet, not to end a
dispute, but to continue it; not to effect reconciliation, but to
gain a victory; they are, therefore, likely to ren1em ber dif-
ferently what i
said, to put very varied interpretations on tones
and looks, and to find fresh alill1Cnt of strife in the means elll-
ployed for its ternlination. E\"en when adYer:
mrics meet for the
express purpose of being reconciled, they are very apt to slide
EE

4 18

Of Negotiating.

[Essay xl,.ii.

insensibly iIÍto the opposite course, and thus to ".ic1en the breach
"Thich )TOU are anxious to haye closcd. It would be an odd ".ay
of preventing a fight between ganle cocks to bring them into
the same pit.'
It is important to observe, that "There there are a number
of persons possessed ,,'ith some strong prejudiccs which you
wish to break down, you have a much better chance by dealing
with theln one by one, than together; because they keep each
other in countenance in holdillg out against strong reasons to
'v hich they can find no alls'ver; and are ashalned-each in
presence of the rest-to go back from what they have said, ancl
own conyiction.
And again, if you wish to make the most of your station and
character, so as to overbear superior reasons 011 the other side,
do not bring them together, lest some of them should press you
,"ith arguments or objections 'which you cannot answel', and the
rest should be ashamed to decide, through mere deference to
)TOU, against "hat each feels must be the general conyiction;
but if you take the}n one hy one, each ".-ill probably be ashalned
of setting up himself singly against you; you "Till be likely to
l)l'evail at least w'ith each one who cannot himself refute you;
and these will probably be the majority.
But on the other hand, if there are some prevailing prejudices
that are on your side, and cool argument ,vould 'weigh against you,
then, according to what has been said just aboye, you can more
easily manage a number of nlen together, than each singly.
III dealing with those who haye prejudices to be got over, and
,,'hose co..operation or cOllyiction you wish for, it is .well ,vorth
l'enlem bering that there are two opposite kinds of disllosition in
nlen, requiring opposite treatmert.
One Ulan, perhaps intelligent, and not destitute of candour,
but with a considerable share of what phrenologists call the
organs of firmness, and of combativeness, .will set himself to find
objections to your proposals or yiews; and the more you urge
him to come to an immediate decision on your side, alld own
himself overconle by your arguments, the more resolutely he
will Inaintain his first position, and will at length comn1Ït him-
self irreco'Terably to opposition. Your wisest course, therefore,
,vith such a man will he, after having laid before him your
reasons, to reconlmelld him to reflect cahnly on then1, aud so

Essay xh-ii.]

AnJlotaliolls.

4 1 9

lcave hinl to consnlt his pillow. .A.ud it will often happen that
lie will reason himself into your views. Leaye the aj'J.ow st ickiìlg
ill hi
prej uelice', and it "ilJ gradually hleed to death.
"ïth another nIall, of a ,'cry diffcrent eharactcl', it will be
wise to pursue an opposite course. If you urg"c hiill with the
strongcst reasons, and all
wer all his objections, and then leave him
apparently a COU\ crt, ron will find the ncxt timc you mect hÏIn,
that rOll ha\-c all to do ovcr again; eyerything that you had

aid ha,-ing faded away. Your only security with such a 1113n,
is to continue pressing hiln, till he has distinctly giyen his COll-
sent, or plainly dcelarcd his acqnic
cencc j-till you have brought
hiln, a:s it were, forluallr to pass the .A.ct ill the Parlialllellt of hi8
0\\ II n1Índ, and cOlÌlJJlitted himself in your fayour.
Of course, yon must watch for any sYlnptonls that may ill-
dicate which kind of luan vou have to deal ,-..-ith.
oJ
Anothcr caution to he observed is, that in cOlul)ating, ,,-hether
as a spcaker or a writel', deep-rooted IH'cjudiccs, and maintaining
unpopular truths, the point to be aimcd at
hould be, to adduce
what is sufficient, and not much IIl01.e than is sufficient to proye
your conclusion. If you can but satisfy HIcn that
. our opinion
i
dccidedly nlor
probable than the opposite, you will ha \-e car-
ried yonr point more cffectually than if you go on, much beyond
this, to demonstrate, by a multitude of the Inost forcible al'gn-
nlellt
, the extreme absurdity of thinking differently, till
TOU
ha"e affronted the sclf-esteenl of sonle, and awakened the dis-
tru
t of others. 'Some will be stung by a feeling of shame
pa
sing off into reseuÌlnent, which stops their ears against argu-
mcnt. 'fhcy could haye borne pcrhaps to change their opinion:
but not, so to change it as to tax their fortner opinion with the
gl'us
est folly. Ther would be so sorry to think they had been
blinded to such an excess, and are so angry ,yith hinl who is
elldea"ourin
to persuade thenl to think so, that these feelings
determine thenl flOt to think it. They try (aud it is an attempt
which fcw pel'
OllS eyer make in vain) to shut thcir eyes against
an htnniliating conviction: and thus, the yery triumphant fOl.ce
of thc reasoning adduced, tscryes to harden theln against acbuit-
tillg the conclusion: nluch as one 11lay conceive ROlllan soldiers
de3perately holding out an untenable fortress to the last ex-
tren1Ïty, frolll apprehension of beiug nlade to pass under tILe
yoke hy the yictors, should they surrcndcr.
EE2

420

Of Þtegotiating.

[Essay xl yii.

, Others again, l)erhaps comparatiyely strangers to the question,
and not prejudiced, or not strongly prejudiced, against your con-
clusion, but rcady to ann1Ît it if supported by sufficient argu-
nlents, ,,,ill sonletÏ1nes, if your argumell ts are 1:ery much beyond
w hat is sufficient, have their suspicions roused by this very
circlunstallce. ' Can it be possihle,' they will say, 'that a C01l-
clusion so very obyious as this is lllade to appear, should not
have beel1 adn1Ítted long ago? Iß it concei,-aLle that such aud
such en1Ïnent philosophers, diyines, statesnlen, &c. should have
been all their lives under delusions so gross?' Hence they are
apt to infer, either that the author has n1Ìstaken the opinions of
those he in1agines opposed to him, or else, that there is some
subtle fallacy in his argulllents.' 1
This is a distrust that reminds one of the story related hy a
French .writer,
I. Say, of SaIne one who, for a .wager, stood a
,,-hole day on one of the bridges in Paris, offering to sell a five-
franc picce for one franc, and (naturally) not finding a l)urchaser.
In this way, the very clearness and force of the demonstration
'will, with SOlne minds, have an opposite tendency to the one
desired. Labourers ,vho are employed in driving 'wedges into a
block of wood, are careful to use blows of no greater force than
is just sufficient. If they strike too hard, the elasticity of the
'wood will t!trow out the wedge.
It luay be noticed here that the effect produced by any "Titing
or speech of an argumentative character, on any subjects on .which
diversity of opinion preyails, may be compared-supposing the
argument to be of any weight-to the eftects of a fire-engine on
a conflagration. That portion of the ,yater which falls on solie]
8tone ,,-aIls, is poured out where it is not needed. That, again,
,yhich falls on blazing beams and rafters, is cast oft' in volumes
of hissing steaD1, and ,,-ill seldonl avail to quench the fire. But
that which is poured on wood work that is just beginning to
kindle, may stop the burning; and that ,,-hich ,vets the rafters
not Jet ignited, but in danger, may save them froln catching
fire. Even so, those ,yho already concur with the writer as to
some point, ,-rill feel gratified with, and perhaps besto\v high
r01l1mendation on an ahle defence of the o})iuions they already
held; and those, again, who haye ful1y Inaùe up their minds 011

1 Elements of Rltelùric, Part I., eh. iii., 9 8.

ay xh-ii.J

AIi"otaiion.
.

4 21

the opposite
ide, arc more likely to he displeased than to be
eOllyillccd. But hoth of thé
{\ parties are lcft nearly in the
saIne luiud as hcforc. 'rho
c, howevcr, who arc in a 11esitating
and ùouhtftù state, nlay very likely he decided hy forcihle argu-
111cnts. AHd those who haye Hot hitherto considered the subject,
nlay he induced to adopt opinions which thcy find supported by
the strongest rC'a
OHs. But the readiest and "
armest approba-
tion a writcr nlects with, will usually he fron1 those wholn he
has Iwt convinced, bccause they were convinced alrcady. And
thc effect the n10st inlportant and the lnost difficult to be pro-
duccd, he will usually, when he does produce it, hear the least
of. Thosc whom he Inay have induced to reconsider, and gra-
dually to alter, previously fixed opinions, are not likely, for a
tinlc at least, to be '
ery forward in proclaiming the change.
One of the nlost troublesome kinds of person to deal with, in
any kind of negotiation, is a ca
.iller. Of these, sonle are such
fronl insidious design, and S0111e from intellectual deficiency. _-\..
cavillcr is on the look-out for objections, yalid or inralid, to
c,'cl'ything that i
proposed, or done, or said j and will seldom
fail to fiud somc. No power, no liberty, cau be entrusted to any
one, which Inay not, possibly or conceivably, be abused; and
the c3,\-illcr takes for granted that it always will be abused j-
that e,"erything that is left to anyone's discretion, n]ust be left
to his indiscretion ;-anc1 that, in short, no one will e,-er be
rc
trained from doing any thing that he 1JlOY do, by a scnse of
hOllour, or by COlnmon prudence, or by regard for charactcr.
I t would be easy for such a man to prove, à Ju"iori, that it is
ÌIllpo
:-"ible for such a systmll as the Briti:5h Constitution to
work wcll, or to continue to subsist at all. rrhe I(ing n1ay put
hi
ycto on a Bill which has passed both Houses; aud when
this is done, the Puhlic win refuse supplics; and so, the gOY ern-
111CUt must come to a dead lock. 01', the King 111ay create a
grC'at batch of Peers, and bribe a majority of the COlnnlons,
and 80 n1ake hin1sclf absolute. Or again, the I(ing nlay pardon
all crill1Ìllals, and thus nullify the a(hninistration of justice. Or
again, he n1ay appoint to all the Bishopricks, an(l to a great
llUlllhcr of livings, nlCll of Socinian or l
omish tendencies, who
wiU explain away all our forlllularies, and whol1y subyert the
sy
ten1 of our Church.
The institution of an Order of persons caned p:trochial yi
itors,

42.4

Of ]{egotiatill[/.

[Essay xh-ii.

lutving the office of assisting and acting under the n1inist('r of
each parish, and serving as a lnedium of communicatioll between
him and the parishioners, and standing in a relation to each,
analogous to that of the attendants in au hospital towards the
physician and the patients-this has heen assailed in a similar
,yay by cavillers. 'Are these 'Tisitors,' it ,vas said, 'to have the
cure of souls? Are they to expound Scripture to the people,
and give them religious instruction and admonitions, just as the
:pastor does? If so, they ought to be regularly ordaincd clergy-
mcn j and should be called curates. 01', are they merely to be
thc bearers of comnllu1ications between the people and the pastor,
and not to vcnture, without Lis express orders, to read a passage
of Scripture to a sick man, or to expJaiu to him the meaning of
such words as 'Puhlican' or 'Pharisee?' In that case they
,rill fall into contempt as triflers.'
If you answer that they are not to be so rigidly restricted as
that; but are to reserve for the :l\linister any important or diffi-
cult points j the cayiHer wi!] reply-' And who is to be thejudge;
,vhat rn.e tIle most importallt and difficult points, and what
the easicr and n10re obvious. If this is to be left to the discrc-
tion of the Visitor himself, he \vill take cverything into his
O'VIl hands j but if it is to be referred to the l\linistcr, then, the
'Tisitor will be nothing but a mere messcnger.' In like Inanner
it 111ight be asked, whether the nurse in au hospital is to adlni-
nister 01' ,vithhold medicines, and perform surgical opcratiol1s,
at discretion, and in short, to usurp all the functions of the
l)hysiciall, or whether she is not to be allowed to slnooth a
patient's pillow, or moisten his lips, or wipe his bro,v, without a
written order frolTI the doctor.
Thc Israelites in the 'Vilderne
s were perrerse enough, no
doubt j hut if there had been cævillt'ì"S aJnong them, it .would
haye been easy to find plausible objections to the appointment
by l\Ioses of the seventy Elders, who ,yere to decide all small
matters, and to reserve the 1reighticr ones for hin1. "Yho is
to be tIle judge,' it might have been said,-' wl'lich are the
,veigbtier causes? If the Elders themselves, then they may
keep allll1atters in their own hands, aud leaye no jurisdiction at
all to 1\10ses: but if he is to be consulted on each point, he will
not be sayed any trouble at all j because cyery case will have to
be laid before hilll.'

ay xh-ii.]

Annotations.

4 2 3

]\ ('\-erthd('

tl1C' plan did
ccm on the whole to work "ell ;
and
o it was foulld, ill praC'tice, with the in
titution of parochial
,.isitors, and so \\ ith the Briti:.;h COll
titution.
One course generally aùopted by a cayillcr, with respect to
any propo
al that is brought forward, is, if it be made in general
terms, to call for detailed pa1.ticulars, and to say, 'explain ùis-
tinctly what killd of rcgulatiolls you \\ ish for, and what are the
changcs you thillk needful, aud who are the pcrsons to ,,-h0111
you would entrust the Inanagement of the nlatter,' &c. If again,
allY of thc
e dctailH are givcn, it ,vill be easy to find some
plausihle objcction to one or lllorc of these, and to join issue on
that point, as inyoh-ing the whole question. Sancho Panza's
13aratarian physician did not at once lay down the decision that
lIis paticnt was to have no dinner at aU; but only objected to
each separate di:-\h to whieh he was aisposed to help himself.
FJ'he only way to mect a cavillcr is to expose the whole system
of eayilling, and say, 'if I had proposed so and so, you would
have had your c;-n-il rear1y; just as you have now.'
But in propo:sillg any schclnc, the best way is, to guard, in
the fir
t instance, against cavils on details, and cstahlish, first
that some thing of such and such a character is desirable; then.
proceeding to settle each of the particular points of detail, one
hy onc. .And this is the ordil1ary course of experienced men;
who, as it were, cut a nleasure into mouthfuls, that it 111ay be
the nlore readily swallowed j dividing the whole 111easure into a
scrics of resolutions; each of which will perhaps pass by a large
nlajority, though the whole' at once, if proposed at once as a
whole, n1Íght hayc been rejectcd. :For supposing it to consist
of four clauses, .A., ß, C, and D; if out of an 3ssembly of one
hundred persons, twenty are oppospd to clause A, and eighty
in favour of it, and the like with B, and with C, aud D, then,
if the whole were put to the vote at once, there would be a
Inajority of cighty to twenty against it: whereas, if divided,
thcrc would be that l1lajority in favour of it.
It is fairly to he' rcquircd.. howcyer, that a nlan should
really lan.e-though he IlIa)'" 110t thinl( it wise to produce it
in the fÌr::,t installce-
ome definite plan for carrying into effect
whatcycr he propo
es. Else, he luay he onc of another cla
:-; of
persons as dithcult to llcgotiate with, and as likely to batIle any
mCa
urc, as the preceding. There are some, and not a few,
who ca
t scorn on anr sobcr practical scheme by drawing bright

4 2 {

Of ...\Tlgotiatiu[J.

[Essay xl,-ii.

pictures of a Utopia 'which can neyer be realized, either fronl
their ha\Ting more of inlagination than juc1gnlent, or from a
deliberate design to put one out of conccit 'with eyerything that
is practicable, in order that nothing may be donc.
E.g. "Vhat is wanted, is, not this and that improyement in
the mode of electing )f eillbers of Parlianlent,-but a Parlian1ent
consisting of truly honest, enlightcned, and patriotic n1en. It
is vain to talk of any system of Church-go\Ternment, or of
improyed Church-discipline, or any alterations in our Seryices,
or reyision of the Bible-translation; ,,-hat we "Tant is a zealous
and truly evangelical ministry, who shall assiduously inculcate on
all the people pure Gospel doctrine. It is yain to east cannon
and to raise troops; what is wanteù for the successful conduct of
the war, is an army of well-equipped and ,,-ell-disciplined men,
under the command of generals who are thoroughly masters of
the art of 'war,' &c. And thus one may, in e,-ery deparbnent of
life, go on indefinitely making fine speeches that can lead to no
practical result, except to create a disgust for everything that is
practical.
'Vhen, (in 1832,) public attention was called to the enorn10US
mischiefs arising froB1 the systenl of Transportation, \re were
told in reply, in a style of florid and indignant declamation, that
the real cause of all the enol'mitie
complained of, \yas, a 'want
of sufficient fear of God ;(!) and that the ouly ren1f'dy wanted
was, an incrcased fear of God! As if, when the unhealthi-
ness of some locality had been p0intec1 out, and a sugge
tion
had been thrown out for providing sewers, and draining nlal'shes,
it had been replied that the root of the evil ,,-as, a preyailing
'want of health i-that it was strange, this-the true cause-
should haye been overlooked ;-and that the remedy of all
1rould be to pro,-ic1e restored health !
As for the renal colonies, all that is required to make thenl
efficient, is, we nlust suppose, to bring in a Bill enacting that
, 'lVhereas, &c., be it therefore enacted, that fl'Onl and after the
first of January next ensuing, all persons shall fear God !'
It is such l T topian declainlcrs tllat give plausibility to the
ohjcctions of the cavillers ahove noticed.
It is but fair, after one has achnitted (supposing it is what
ought to be achnittec1) the desirableness of the eud proposed, to
call on the other party to say whethcr he knows, or can think
of
any 1neans by ,,-hich that end can be attaincd.

ESS
\.l XL V lIT. OF FOI.Jl.O"TETIS .L'\.ND
FnIEXDS.

C OSTL Y follo,,'crs are not to be liked, lest, while a man
l11akcth hi.., train longer, he nlake his ,vings shorter. I
reckon to be eo
tly, not them alone which charge the purse, hut
which are wpari
oll)e and importune 1 in suits. Ordinary fol-
lowers ought to challenge no higher conditions than coulltenancc,
l'cconullcndation, anù protcctioll from wrongs. Factious fol-
lowers arc worse to be liked, which follow not Up011 2 affection
to hin1 with who111 they range thenu;eh'cs, hut upon discontent-
BleUe eoucei,'cd against sonIC other; whereupon cOlnmonly
cllsucth that ill intelligcnce" that we Inany tilnes sce between
grcat personagcs. Likewise glorious 5 followers, ",.ho make
thclnselvcs as trumpcts of the conlnlclH1ation of those they
follow, arc full of illeOllYCnicncc, for ther taint business through
want of secrccy; aud they export honour from a man, and make
hilll a return in envy. rrhere is a kind of followcl's, likewise,
which are dangerons, beiug indecd cspials,6 which inquire the

ecrpts of thc housc, and bear tales of thenl to others; yct such
..
InCH Inany tiules arc in grcat fayou}', for they are officious,7 ana
cOlllnlo111y exchange talcs. The following by certain estates S of

I Importune. Importunate.
,
r ore shall thy pen)"tent sigh!', his endlesse mercy please;
Than tbeir importune suits which ùreamc that worùes God's wratllc appease.'
-I3l l l"l"eg.
2 Lpon. I1l, consequence of. 'Upon pity they were taken away; 'upon ignorance
they wcre again ùemanùed.'-JIagu."ard.
3 I>i
('ontentment. IJiscolltent. ' Tell of
'our elH
mies, and discontentments.'-
State Trials, 1(;00.
.. III intelligeuce. Barl terms. ' He }Ï\"ed rather in a fllÏr iutelligence, than in
any frIenùship "ith the favourites.'-Clarcildon.
ã (J lorious. Boostful.

"Ye llaye not
Received into our Lo
om, and onr grace,
.A gloriolu; lazy drone.'-JIassiuger.
Ii F.
pial:,:. Spials; spies.
ec p3ge 39 8 .
i Otticiuus. Cscful; duing good qJfices.
, Yet, not to earth are thuse bright luminaries
(fficiullS; hut to thee, carth'
habitallt.-.J.lilloll.
s E
tates of lllen. Orders of men.
cc page I
J.

4 26

Of Follo
vers and Friends.

[Essay xlviii.

TIlen, ans,vcrable to that ,,,hich a great Ulan hilllself professeth
(a
of E:oldiers to him that hath bcen employed in the wars) and
the like), hath ever been a thing civil/ and .well taken eycn in
TIlonarchic8, so it be .without too much pomp or popularity: hut
the most honourable kind of following is to be follo,,'ed as one
that apprehendeth 2 to ad yance virtue and desert in all sorts of
persons j and yet, where there is no en1inent odds in sufficiency,3
it is better to take ,,,ith the more passable than with the more
able: and, besides, to speak truth in base times, acti,'e nlen are
of more use than virtuous. It is true, that in governnlent it is
good to use 111en of one rank equally: for to countenance some
extraordinarily is to make them insolent, and the rest discontent/
because they may claim a due j but contrari,,-ise in favour, to
nse n1en ,,
ith lllnch differences and election, is good; for it
TI1aketh the persons preferred more thankful, and the rest 1110re
officious; because all is of fayour. It is good discretion not to
Jl1ake too nluch of any man at the first, because one cannot
hold out that proportion. To be goyerned (as ,ve call it), by
one, is not safe, for it sho,vs softness,6 and gives a freedom to
scandal and disreputation; ï for those that would not censure or
speak ill of a man inunecliately, will talk more boldly of those
that are so great with them, and thCl'cby ,vound their honour;
yet to be distracted with TI1any, is .worse, for it makes men to
be of the last inlpression, and full of change. To take adyice

1 Ch.il. Decorous. "Yhere cil.-il speech and soft persuasion lnmg.'-Pope.

..-\ pprchcm1. To conceive; to lake ill as an object.
'Can we want obedience, then,
To Him, or possihl
' His love desert,
'Yho form'd us from the ùu::;t, and placeù us here"
Full to the utmost measure of what Lliss
Human desires can seek, or apprellend.'-Milion.
3 Sufficiency. AUlifg. See page 24 2 .
4 Discontcnt. IJiscoJltented. 'The discountenanced and discontent, these the
}:arl sing-Ies out, as best for his purpose.'-Ha.ljlcfl'}"d.
5 Difference. IJisliJlclion. 'Our constitution does not only make a difference
between the guilty mIll the innocent, but eycn among the guilty, between such ns
are more or less obsen'ed.' -Addison.
6 Softness. IVeakness.
, rnder a shepherd sofie and negligent,
The wolfe hath many a sheep and lambe to rcnt.'-Ch,aucel..
7 Disrcputation. Disrepute. 'GluttonJ is not in snch disre]J'llfafion anJOlìg
men as dnmlænncss.'-Bishop Tayl01'.

Essay xl, iii.]

AnnotatioN..,.

4 2 7

of some few frienù.;;;, is eycr honourable; for lookcrs-on many
tiUll'S 8eC morc than gmnesters; and the vale best disco\-ercth
the hill. There i
little friendship ill the worlù, aud least of all
between equals, wl.ich was wone to h(
magnified. That that
i:
, i
betwecn superior and inferior, whose fortuncs lüay con1-
prehend the one the other.

AXXO'TATIOXS.

, Tiley taint busÏJless tlu'ouglt want oj secrecy.'

IIellry rraylor, in the Statesman, has a good remark on the
fi(h-alltage of trusting thoroughly rather than partially. .For
thcre are some who will be 1110re likely to betray one secret, if
one only is confided, than if they felt then1selves confidants
altogether. They" in then, he thinks, be lc:--;s likely to giye a
boa:,tful proof of the confidence reposed in theIn, ùy betray-
ing it.

, A kind oj folluwers which bear tal

It is observahle that flatterers are usual1) tale-bcarers. Thus
we have in Pro
'erhs the caution, 'lIe that goeth about as a
tale-hcarer, rcyealeth secrets; thel'cfore meddle not with hilll
that flattereth with his Ii p8.

'Looler
-oll wllny times see more thall gamesters.'

This pro\-crùial maxilu, which bears ,,-itnc5s to the advantage
80mctiJnes possessed ùy an obscrv
nt by-::;tand
r 0' cr thOðC
actually engaged in any tran
action, has a parallel ill an Il'i
h
pro,-crh :

Jr ttl d Ji -1t}
Jott}.1t}\;"ëe, dt}
e, fiJor
1\ dt} 3c to r te .

lIe is a good hurler thaVs 011 the ditch.

: 'Y onto .Accustomed. See page 39".

4 28

Of Followe'rs and Friends.

[Essay xl viii.

'To countenance SOUle extraordinarily is to ,{}lake tit em insoknt.'
)Ien very often raise up sonle troublesome persons into
importance, and afterwards try in vain to get rid of them. So
also, they gi,'e encouragell1ent to SOl1le dangerous principle or
practice, in order to serve a present purpose, and then find it
turned against themselyes. The horse in the fable, who seek-
ing aid against his encll1Y, the stag, had allowed an insidious
ally to mount, and to put his bit into his mouth, found it
afterwards no easy l11atter to unseat him. Thus, too, according
to the provcrb, the littlc birds, ,vhich are chasing about the full-
grown cuckoo, had themselves reared it as a nestling.

The Spring was come, and the nest "'as made,
And the little bird all her eggs had laid,
"\Vhen a cuckoo came to the door to beg
She would kindly adopt another egg;
For I ha\'e not leisure, upon my worù,
To attend to such things, said the roving bird.
There was hardl
' room for them aU in the nest,
But the egg was admitted along with the rest;
Anù tbe foster-hinh p1ay'd the;r part 80 well,
That S0011 the young cuckoo had chipp'd the shell :
For the silly birds! they could not see
That their foster-chid: their plague would be;
And so big and !'aucy the cuckoo grew,
That no peace at last in the nest they knew.
He peck'd and he hustled the old bird
about;
And as for the young ones, he jostled tllem out.
Till at length they SUllU110nCÙ their frienùs to their aid,
"\Yren, robin, and sparrow, not one dela)"'d,
And joining together, neighbour with neigbbour,
They drove out the cuckoo with infinitt' lahom'.
Rut the cuckoo was fledged, and langlwd to see
How they vainly cbas'd him from tree to tree:
They had nursl'
l him so wdl, he was grown the stronger,
And now he needed their help 110 longer.

Giye place, or power, or trust, to none
'Yho will make an ill use of what they have won.
}'or when you have rcar'd the cuckoo-guc8t,
'Twill be hard to drive him out of the nest;
And harder still, when awa
' he's flown
To hunt down t.he cuckoo now fully grown.

ESS.A. Y XI.JIX. OF SUI
rOllS.

l\l -\.
Y ill matters and projects are undertaken, and private
suits do putrefy the public good. :\Iany good matters are
undcrtakcn with 1xu1 n1Ïuds-I Inean not only corrupt n1Ïnd:3,
but crafty minds, that intend not performance. Some elubrace
suits, which ne,.er mcan to deal cffectually in thcm; but if they
scc there nlay bc lifc in the nlatter, by sonle other mean/ they
'till be content to .win a thallk/ or take a
econd 3 reward, or, at
lcast, to Inake use in the meantimc of the suitor's hopes. Some
take hold of suits only for an occasion to cross some other, or
to Inake-1 an infol'luation, .whereof they could not otherwise have
apt pretcxt, without care what becúme of the suit when the
turn is :served; or, generally, to make other men's business a
kind of clltertainnlcnt 5 to bring in thcir own; nay, some under-
take suits with a full purpose to let thenl fall, to the end to
gratify the ath.crse party, or cOlllpetitor. Surely there is in
sonIC sort a right in every suit: either a right of equity, if it be
a suit of controycrsy, or a l'ight of desert, if it be a suit of
petition. If affcction lead a man to favour the wrong side in
justicc, let hinl rather use his countenance to cornpound the
Inatter than to carry it. If affection lead a man to favour the
less 'worthy in desert, let him do it without depraving 6 or dis-
abling the bctter c1cser"el'. In suits which a luan doth not
well understand, it .i
good to refer thcm to SOllIe friend of trust

1 ::\fean. Means. Sre page 179.
!
\ thank. Seldom 'used in tile singular. C The fool saith, I have no t7 ank for
all my good deed; and they that eat my bread speak evil of me.'-Ecclus. xx. 16.
3
econd. Secondal"g; inj'erior.

4 )[ake.
xiv. 18.
5 Entertainment. Preliminarg communication. C The queen desires you to
use some gentle entertainment to Laertc
, before 'you fall to play.'-Shakespere.
6 Deprave. To vili-l'. !J . C And that knoweth conscience ich cam noO't to chide
'J

I:J ,
ue to deprave the per50nlle.'-Piers Plollgll1nan. 'Envy is hlil!d, aud can do
nothing but deprave aud speak ill of virtuous ùoing.'-BellJlett.

, Each glance, each grace,
Keep their first lustre and maÌlltain their p1a.:e,
Not .r;ecolld yet to any other face.'-Drgden.
Give. C Th
y all \\ ith one con:,ellt began to 'lnake

excuse.' - Lulce

43 0

Of Suitors.

[Essay xlix.

and judglnent, that may report whether he may deal in them
with honour; but let him chuse ,veIl his referendaries, 1 for else
he Inay be led by the nose. Suitors are so distasted 2 ,rith
delays and abuses,3 that plain dealing in denying to deal in
suits at first, and reporting the success barely, and in chal-
lenging no more thanks than one hath cleservcd, is gro,vll not
only honourable, but also gracious. In suits of favour, tIle
first coming ought to take little place;4 so far forth 5 considera.
tion may be had of his trust, that if intelligence of the matter
could not otherwise haye been had but by him, adyantage be
not taken of the note, 6 but the party left to his other means,
and in sonle sort recompensed for his discoyery. To be ignorant
of the value of a suit is simplicity, as well as to be ignorant of
the right thereof is ,vant of conscience. Secrecy in suits is a
great nlean of obtaining; for voicing 7 thcln to be in for,varclness
may discourage some kiud of suitors, but doth quicken 8 and
awake others; but timing of the suit is the principal-timing,
I say, not only in respect of the person who should grant it,
but in respect of those which are like to cross it. Let a man,
in the choice of his mean,9 rather chuse the fittest Inean than
the greatest mean; and rather theln that deal in certain things,

1 Referendaries. Rife'J'ees. '\Yho was legate at the dooings, who was
,"ife,'endarie, who was presidcnte, who was presente.'-Bishop Jewell.
2 Distaste. To disgust. 'These new edicts, that so distaste the people.'-HeYleood.
:3 Abuses. Deception.
, Lend me
Tour kind pains to find out this abuse.' -Shakespm"e.
-I Place. Effect.
, Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him,
That they take place, when virtue's steely bones
Look bleak in the cold wind.'-Shakespere.
5 So far forth. To the degree. ' The substance of the service of God, so fa,'
forth as it hath III it anything more than the love of reason doth teach, must not
be invented of man, but received from God himself.'-Hooke,".

Arraied for this feste, in every wise
So far forth as his connynge may suffice.'-Cltaucer.
6 .Note. Notification; information.
, She that from Naples
Can have no note, unless the sun were past,
(The man i' the moon's too slow).-Sltakespere.
7 Voice. To report. 'It was voiced that the king purposed to put to death
Eel ward Phntagenet.' -Slwkespere.
8 Quicken. To bring to life. See page 381.
9 l\Iean. Instrument.
Pamela's noble heart would needs gratefully IDil.h.C
known the valiant mean of her safety.'-Sidney.

Essay xlix.]

Of Suitors.

43 1

than those that are gencral. The reparation of a dcnial is

onletinle
cqual to the first grant, if a man sho,v hinlself ncither
dejected nol' discontented. 'Iniquunl peta::;, ut æquun1. feras Jl
is a good rule where a Juan hath strcngth of fayour; but other-
wise, a man were better rise in his suit, for he that would have
ventured at first to have lost
the suitor, will not, in the conclu-
sion, losp both the suitor and his own fornler fayour. K othing
i
thought so easy a requcst to a great person, as his letter;
Hnd yet, if it be not in a good cause, it is so much out of his
reputation. There are no worse instruments than these general
contrivers of suits, for they al'e but a kind of poison and infection
to public proceedings.

I 'A
k for what is unjust, in order that thou IDa
Test obtain what i
just.'

LO:5t. Ruined.

, Therefore mark my counsel
. . . . or both :rour
elf and IDC
CrJ', lost.'-Slwkespere.

ESSr\. Y L. OF srrUDIES.

S TlTDIES serve for delight, for ornament, and for ahilitv.
']:'heir chief use for delight, is in privateness 1 and retiring;
for ornanlcnt, is in discourse; and for ability, is in the judglnent
and disposition of business: for, ex!)ert men can execute, aud
perhaps judge of particulars, one by one; but the general
counsels, and the plots and mar
halling of affairs, conle best
fron1 those that are learned. To spend too much tilne in
studies, is sloth; to use theln too much for ornament, is affecta-
tion; to make 2 judgment wholly by their rules, is the hUlllour
of a scholar; they perfect nature, and are perfected by expe-
rience-for natural abilities are like natural plants, that need
pruning by study; and studies thelnselves do give forth direc-
tions too n1uch at large, except they be bounded in by experience.
Crafty III en contemn studies, siluple Inen admire them, and wise
men use thcIn, for they teach not their own use; but that is a
wisdom .without theIn, and aboye them, won by ohservation.
l{,ead not to contradict and confute, nor to bclieve and take for
granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to ,veigh and con-
sider. Some books are to be ta8ted, others to be swallowed,
and sonIe fe,v to be chewed and digested: that is, SOlne books
are to be rcad only in parts; others to be read, but not
curiously;3 and SOlne few to be read wholly, and with diligence
and attention. Sonle books also may be read by deputy, and
extracts 111ade of them by others; but that woulcP be only in
the less Í111portant arguments, and the meaner sort of books;
else distilled books are, like common distilled waters, flashy
things. Reading nlaketh a full nlan, conference a ready nlan,
and writing au exact man; and, therefore, if a man ,vrite little,
he had need have a grcat memory; if he confer little, he had
need have a present ,vit; and if he read little, he had need have

1 Privateness. Prh'acy. See pnge 87. 2 l\Iake. GiDe. See page 4 2 9.
3 Curiously. Attentively. 'At first I thought there had been no light reflected
from the water; but observing it mure curiously, I saw within it several spot::;
wllich appeared darker than the rest.' -Sir Isaac lt
elt'ton.
4 'Y ould. Sltoztld. See page 296.

:Es3ay 1.]

Of Studies.

433

much cunning, to secm to know thae he doth not. IIistories
Inake mcn wise; pocts witty; the mathclllatics subtle; natural
})hilosophy dccp; moral, grave; logic and rhetoric, able to
contcnd: 'Ahcunt studia in mores'2-nay, there is no stOll(P or
inlpcdin1C'nt in the wit, but may be wrought 4 out by fit studics,
like as diseases of the body may have appl'opriate exercises-
bowling is good for the stone and reins,s shooting for the lungs
and brcast, gcntle walking for the stom3.ch, riding for the hcad,
ana the likc; so, if a man's wits he ,vandcring, let him study
the nlathcmatics, for in demonstrations, if his wit be called
away never so little, he must begin again; if his ,vit be not apt
to distinguish or find differences,6 let him study the schoolmen,
for thcy arc 'cyn1ini sectores;' 7 if he be not apt to beat over
nlattel's, and to call upon one thing to prove ana illustrate
anotlwr, let him study the lawyer::;' cases-so every defect of
the Inillù may have a special rcceipt.

.AXTITHETA OX STUDIES.

PRO.
, I
ectio est convt>rsatio cum pruden-
tibus; actio fere cum
tultis.
'In l'eadill!J, we lwld COnl'erse with
the .wise; in the business of life, gene-
rall!f 'if'ilh the foolish.'

,
on inutiles scientiæ existimandæ
sunt, quarum in se nullus est usus, si
ingcula acuaut, et ordinent.
, 1Ve slw ld not consider even those
sC;e1lCPll ,elt 'ch have no actual practical
applicalion in them.
elves, as 'without
value, if the!f sharpen and tiain the
intellect .'

COYTRA.
'Qnæ unquam ars docuit tempesti-
vum artis usnIn ?
, TV/NIt art has 81'er taught 'Us tlte
suitable use of an art l'

, Artis sæpissime il1eptus usus est, ne
sit nnllus,
, A Lranch of knowledge is often p'llt
to an improper use, for fear oj its being
idle.'

1 That. What. See page .59.
2 '
Ianners are influenced by studies.'
3 Stond. Hindrances. See page 374.
; 'Vrought. .'Vorked. "Vho, thr?ugh faith, 'wrought righteousness.'-Heb. xi.33.
H0W great IS Thy goodness, whIch Thou hast wl'ougltt for them that trust in
T]JCe !'-Psalm xxxi. 19.
5 Reins, Kidneys; inward parts. "'110m I shall see for myself, though my
re
llS be consumed within me.'-Job xix. 27.
6 Differeu('cs. Distinctions. See page 4 26 .
7 'Splitters of cummill.' Vide Á. L. I. vii. 7.

F F

434

OJ Studies.

[Essay 1.

ANXOTATIOXS.

C Crafty rnen conteulll studies.'

This contempt, ,vhether of crafty nlen or narro,y-minded
men, often finds its expression in the word (smattering j' and
the couplet is become almost a proverb,

, A 1itt1e learning is a dangerous thing',
Drink deep, 01. taste not the Pierian spring.'

But the poet's remedies for the dangers of a little learning are
both of them impossible. N one can ( drink deep' enough to be,
in truth, anything n10re than very superficial; and e,Tery human
being, that is not a downright idiot, must taste.
It is plainly impossible that any man should acquire a know-
ledge of all that is to be kno,vn, on all suhjects. But is it then
meant that, on each particular subject on which he does learn
anything at all, he should be perfectly well informed? IIere it
Inay fairly be asked, what is the C "Tell ?'-ho,v much knowledge
is to be called C little' or (much?' For, in nlany departments,
the very utlnost that had been acquired by the greatest profi-
cients, a century and a half back, falls short of what is familiar
to n1any a boarding-school miss no,v. And it is likely that our
posterity, a century and a half hence, 'will in many things be
just as much in ad,-ance of us. And in most subjects, the
utmost knowledge that any man can attain to, is hut (a little
learning' in comparison of what he remains ignorant of. The
view resembles that of an American forest, in which the more
trees a man cuts down, the greater is the expanse of wood he
sees around him.
But supposing you define the (much' and the (little' 'with
reference to the existing state of knowledge in the present age
and country, "Touid anyone seriously advise that those who are
not proficients in astronomy should renlain ignorant whether
the earth moves or the sun ?-that unless you are complete
master of agriculture, as far as it is at present understood, there
is 110 good in )Tour knowing wheat from barley ?-that unless
)70U are such a Grecian as Forson, you had better not learn to
construe the Greek Testalnent ?

aY 1.J

ANnotations.

435

The othcr recomlnclldation of thc poet, ( tastc not'-that is to

ay, have no leal'uillg,-is equally in1pos
iblc. 'rhe truth is, eycry-
hody ha:-;, and c,.cryho<1y onght to ha,'e, a slight and supcrficial
knowlcdge-a ( sluattcring,' if you will-of 1110re
nhjcct8 than
it is pos
ihlc for thc ItlOst diligcnt studcnt to acquire thoroughly.
It is ycry po:-.
iblc, aud also very useful, to ha,'e that slight

illattcring of cheulistry which will enahle one to di
tinguish
from the salts used in Inedicille, the oxalic acid, with which,
through Inistake, several pCl'::,ons ha'"c been poisoncd. .Again,
"ithout bcing an cInincnt botanist, a l)crson nlay know-what
it is n10
t Ï1nportant to know-tlle difference betwecn cherries
and the hen'ics of the deadly nighbshadc; the want of 'which
knowledge has cost many lives.
...\.gain, therc i
no one, e,"en of those who are not profound
politi('ial1
, who is not awarc that we havc Rulers; and is it not
propcl' that he should understand that gov('rnlnent is necessary
to }>1'e....o1".e our lives and property? Is he likely to be a worse
subject for knowing that? 'fhat depends \"ery nlueh on the
kind of go,'ernmcnt you ,,-ish to establish. If you wish to
cstabli::,h an unjust aud despotic goycr1llncnt-or, if you wish
to :-\ct up a fal:-;e rcligion-then it would he advisable to a,'oid
the dangcr of cnlightening the people. But if you ,,,ish to
nlaintain a gooJ govcrnment, the more the pcople undcrstand
thc ach-antag('s of such a go, el'llll1ent, the lllorc they wi)] respect
it; and the 1110re they know of true religion, the lllore they will
yalne it.
There is nothing more general among uneducatcd people than
a dispo
itioll to socialism", and yct nothing morc injurious to
their own welfare. Au equalization of wages would be nlost in-
jurious to thclllselves, for it would, at once, de
troy all ennllation.
.All nloti,.cS for the acquisition of skill, and for superior in-
dustry, would be rcn10ycd. Now, it is but a little knowledge of
political el'ollon1Y that i
llC'edccl for the l'enlo'"al of this error;
but that littlc is highly useful.
...\.gaill, everyone knows, no nlatter how ignorant of medicine,
that there is such a thing as discase. But as an instance of
the impo
sibility of the ( taste not' recommendation of the poet,
a fact may be luclltioned, whieh perhaps is known to most.
\Yhen th(' cholera brokc out in Poland, the pcasantry of that
country took it into their head
that the nobles were poisoning
F F .2

43 6

Of Studies.

[Essay 1.

them in order to clear the country of them; they believed the
rich to be the authors of that terrible disease; and the conse-
quence 'was that the peasantry rose in masses, broke into the
houses of the nobility, and finding some chloride of linle, ,vhich
had been used for the purpose of disinfecting, the
r took it for
the pOlson which had caused the disease; and they murùered
then1. X ow, that ,vas the sort of 'little learning' which ,vas
very dangerous.
Again, we cannot prevent people from believing that there is
some superhuman Being who has an interest in human affairs.
SOlne clowns in the ",.. eald of Kent, who had been kept as
much as possible on the 'taste not' system,-left in a state of
gross ignorance,-yet believed that the Deity did impart special
powers to certain lTICn: and that belief, coupled with exce:5
ive
stupidity, led them to take an insane fanatic for :\ prophet. In
this case, this 'little learning' actually caused an insurrection
in his favour, ill order to make hÏ1n king, priest, and prophet of
the British empire; and many lives ,,'ere sacrificed before this
insane iusurrection ,,'as put do,vn. If a 'little learning' is a
( dang'erous thing,' you ,vill ha\Te to keep people in a perfect
state of idiotcy in order to avoid that danger. I ,vould, there-
fore, say that both the recommendations of the poet are itn-
practicable.
The question arises, W lult are we to do? Sinlply to impress
upon ourselves and upon all people the importance of labouring
in that much ne
lected branch of human knowledge-the know-
ledge of our own ignorance ;-and of remembering that it is by
a confession of real ignorance that real knowledge must be
gained. But even ,,
hen that further knowledge is not attained,
still even the kno,-rledge of the ignorance is a great thiug in
itself; so great, it seems, as to constitute Socrates the wisest of
his time.
Sonle of the chief sources of unknown ignorance may be ,vorth
noticing here. They are to be found in our not being a ware,
I. How inadequate a medium language is for conveying thought.
2. Ho,v inadequate our very minds are for the comprehensioa
of many things. 3. Ho,v little we need understand a word
which nlay yet be familiar to us, and which we may use in reason-
ing. This piece of ig'norance is closely connected ,vith the h,\"o
foregoing. (Hence, frequently, men will accept as an expla-

Es
ay I.]

Annotalions.

437

nation of a phCnOlTICnOn, a mcre statenlcllt of the difficulty in
other words.) 4. I low uttcrly ignorant we are of efficient
can:-;('
; and 110\\ the philosophcr who rcfcrs to the law of gra-
,.itatioll the fallillg' of a stone to the carth, no furthcr explains
the phCllolllcllon than the peasant, who would say it is the
nature of it. rl'hc philosopher knows that the stone obeys the
saIne law to which all ollier bodies are subject, and to which,
for cOll\'cnience, he gi,.cs the name of gra,-itation. Ilis know-
ledge is ouly nlore general than the pea
ant's; which, howe,-er,
is a va,t alh-alltage. 5. IIow lnany ,,"ortIs there are that ex-
1)I'C:SS, not the nature of the thing they are applied to, but the
luanneI' in which they ajjèct us: and which, thereforc, give
ahout as correct a notion of those things, a:s the word' crooked'
would, if applied to a stick half inlnlersed in water. (Such is
the word Clul'llce, l,ith all its family). 6. Ilow many causes
nlayand usually do, conduce to the same effect. 7. 110"'. liable
the fac1llties, c,-en of the ahlest, are to occasional failure; so
that they
hall 0' erlook luistakcs (and those often the nlost at
,"ariauce with their own established notions) which, when once
t.J'j1osed, scem quite gross even to infcrior n1en. 8. IIo,y much

ll arc biassed, in all their moral reasonings, by self-love, or
perhaps, rather, partiality to Illlman nature, and other l-m
sions.
9. Dugald Stewart would aùd ycry justly, How little we kno,v
of lIIaller; no more indeed than of mind; though all are prone
to attelllpt eXplaining the phenomena of mind by those of mat..
tel': for, what is falltiliar lnell generally consider as 'l()ell knolcn,
though the faet is oftcncr otherwi
e.
The erl'ors arising fronl these causes, and from not calculating
on thcul,-that is, in short, fro1l1 ignorance of 0111' own ignorance,
ha'"c probably iUIPcded philosophy more tlJan all other oLstacles
put together.
Certain it is, that only by this ignorance of our ignorance can
'a little learning' ùeconlc 'a daub'erous thing.' rfhc dangers
of knowledge arc not to be compared \\ ith the dangers of igno-
rancc. A man is lllore likely to Iniss his" ay in darkness than
in twilight: in twilight tllan in full SUllo And tl10se cOlltenlners
of studic
"ho
ay (with
landcyille, in his Treatise against
C/larily-scllOols) C] f a horse l\.llcw as 111uch as a mall, I
lloul(l
110t lil\.c to bc his rider,' ought to add, ' If a n1an knew as little
as a hor
e, I
hould not likc to trust l1Ïnl to ride.' It is indeed

43 8

OJ Studies.

[Essay 1.

possible to educate the children of the poor so as to disqualify
them for an hUlnhle and laborious station in life; but this
lnistake does not so much consist in the aJuount of the know-
ledge imparted, as in the kind and the 'JJlanne'ì" of education.
Habits early engrafted on children, of regular attention,-uf
steady application to ,vhat they are about,-of prompt obedience
to the directions they receive,-of cleanliness, order, and decent
and rnodest behaviour, cannot but be of advantage to theu1 in
after life, ,vhatever their station may be. ..A.ud certainly, their
familiar acquaintance with the precepts aud exalnple of IIilu
,vho, when all stations of life lVCl'e at his comlnand, chose to be
the reputed son of a poor mechanic, and to li,'e with peasants
and fisheru1en; or, again, of his apostle Paul, whose own hands
'lninistercd to his necessities,' and to those of his companions :-
such studies, I say, can surely never tend to Ullfit anyone for
a life of humble and contented industry.
'Vhat, then, is the' smattering'-the imperfect and superficial
knowledge-that really does deserve contempt? .A. slight and
superficial kno,vledge is justly cOl1(lelnned, when it is put in the
place of more full and exact knowledge. Such an acquaintance
"Tith chen1Ístry aud anatomy, e.g., as would be creditable, and
not useless, to a lawyer, ,vould be contemptible for a physician;
and such an acquaintance with la,v as would be desirable for
hÍ1n, would be a nlost discreditable smattering for a la"-yer.
It is to be observed that the word smattering is applied to
t,vo different kinds of scanty knowledge-the 'ì"udÏiueutary and
the superficial; though it seems the nlore strictly to belong to
the latter. Now, as it is evident that no one can ]earll all
things perfectly, it seen1S best for a man to make some pursuit
his main object, according to, first, his calling; secondly, his
natural bent; or thirdly, his opportunities: then, let him get a
slight knowledge of what else is ,.rorth it, rcgulated in his choice
by the saIne three circumstances; which should also determine,
in great measure, ,vhcre an elernentary and where a superficial
knowlcdge is desirable. Such as are of the most dignified and
philosophical nature are most proper for elelnelltary study;
and such as we are the most likely to he called upon to practise
for ourselves, the most proper for superficial: e.g., it ,rould be
to most men of no practical use, and, consequently, not "Torth
while, to learn by heart the Ineaning of Saine of the Chinese

Essay 1.J

A II llol at iOliS.

439

cllaractcrs j but it 11light he "cry well worth while to study the
prillcipl('
on which that nlo::st singular language is couBtructed :
rOlltra, thcrc i
nothing ,"cry curious or intcrcsting in the

tructurc of tIlt' Portugllc
c languagc; hut if oue were going to
tl'a,'el ill Portugal, it would be worth while to l}ick up SOlne l\ ords
and phra:ses. If both circulllstances conspire, then, both kind'i
of illforlllation are to bc sought for; and
uch things should be
learncd a little at both euds; that is, to understand the ele-
lllentary aud fundaillclltal priuciples, and also to know SOllle of
the lllo
t l'cnlarkahle re8ults-a little of the rudilllents, and a
little of "hat is most callcd for in practice: e.g., a lnau who
has not nlade any of the physical or matheulatieal scienc
s his
fh,'oul'ite pur
uit, ought yet to know the principlcs of geonletrical
rca:-\oning, and thc elcnJ.cnt
of lllechanics; aud al
o to know, by
rote, :-;oillcthing of the Dlagnitude, distances, and lllotions of
the hcavcnly bodies, though without ha\'ing gone o\'er the inter-
lueòiatc cour
c of ::scientific delllonstration.
Granlnlar, logic) rhctoric, and luctaphysics, [or the pl1ilosop11Y
of l11iud,] arc Iwuáfcstly
tudies of an elellleidary nature, being
concerned about the instrulllcnts which we employ in effecting
our purposes; and cthics, which is, ill fact, a branch of lllcta-
physic
, lllay bc call cd the elements of conduct. Such know-
ledge is far frol1l
howy. Elelllellts do not 111uch COll1e into
sight; they arc like that part of a bl'idge which is under water,
and is tbcreforc lcast adn1Ïred, though it is not the work of
lcast art and difficulty. On this ground it is suitable to fcmales,
(t.
lcast lcading to tbat lJedantry which learned ladies lllust e"er
he pcculiarly liablc to, as well as least e
citing that jealousy to
which they nlu:st c\'er be cxposcd, while lcarning in thenl
continucs to be a di:;tiJlction. _\... woman might, in this" ay, be
vcry learncd without any OllC':s finding it out.

, llead not to conÜ'adict aud conftdp, '/lUI' to believe and take for
grll II ted, nu,. to filld talk aud discúui.8e, but to weigh and
cunsider. SUUle books are to be tasted, utiu:rs to be swal-
[uu:ed, and
UJìle few to be chewed 0 Ill! digested.'
It would ha'-e bccn well if Bacon had addcd some hints as
to the 11l0de of study: h011) books arc to bc che" cd, anù swal-
10\\ cd, and dige
tcd. }'or, bc:sidc
inattclltiyc reader:;, who

44 0

Of Studies.

[Essay 1.

measure their proficiency by the pages they haye gone over,
it is quite possible, and not unCOn1111011, to read most laboriously,
even so as to get by heart the "ords of a book, without rea1ly
studying it at all; that is, without en1ploying the thoughts on the
subject.
In particular, there is in reference to Scripture l 'a habit
cherished by some persons, of reading-assiduously, indeed,-
but without any attentive reflection and studious endeayour to
ascertain the real sense of what they read-concluding that
,,
hate\Ter in1pression is found to be left on the mind after a bare
perusal of the words, must be ,,-hat the sacred writers designed.
rrhey use, in short, little or Hone of that care which is enlployed
on any other subject in which we are much interested, to read
through each treatise consecutiYel
T as a whole,-to compare one
passage with others that may throw light on it, and to consider
,,,hat was the general drift of the author, and what were the
occasions, and the persons he bad in vie\\T.
'In fact, the real students of Scripture, properly so ca1led,
are, I fear, fewer than is commonly supposed. rrhe theological
student is often a student chiefly of some human
ystem of
divinity, fortified by references to Scripture, introduced from
time to time as there is occasion. lIe proceeds-often unCOll-
sciously-by setting himself to ascertain, not ,,
hat is the infor-
mation or instruction to be deri\Ted frOlll a certain narratiye or
discourse of one of the sacred "riters, but \\ hat aid can be
derived from them towards establishing or refuting this or that
point of dogmatic theology. Such a lllode of study surely
ought at least not to be exclusiy
ly pursued. At any rate, it
cannot properly be called a study of Scripture.
'There is, in fact, a danger of its proving a great IlÌlldrance to
the profitable study of Scripture; for so strong an association is
apt to be established in the n1illd between certain expressions,
and the technical sense to which they have been confined ill
some theological system, that wben the student llleets with
them in Scripture, he at once understands them in that sense,
in passages where perhaps an unbiassed examination of the
context would plainly sho,v that such was not the author's
Ineaning. And such a student one ll1ay ofteu find expressing

1 See Essays on the IJitficullies of Sf. Paul's Epistles. Es
ay x. ll
ge 233.

E
say 1.]

An/willi/vIIs.

44 1

the IHo"t unfciO'llcd wondcr at the bliudncss of those who
t)
caunot find in Scripture such and such doctrines, which appear
to hiln to he as clearly set forth th('re as "ord
can express;
which perhaps tLpy are, on the (oftcn gratuitous) supposition,
that those words are c,'crywhere to be understood cxactly ill
the
cnsf' .which he has prcviously derived froll1 sonle human
sy
tcln,-a systcnl through which, as through a discolourccl
medium, he yicws Scripture. But this is not to take Scripture
for one's guidc, but rather to Inake one's self a !Juide to
Srripturc.
'Othrrs J again, there are, who are habitual readcrs of the
Bihle, and perhaps of little else, but who yet cannot properly
be said to study anythiug at all 011 the subject of rcligion,
becausc, as was ohsel',-ed just abo,'c, they do not even attempt
to cx('rri
c their mind on the suhject, but trust to be sufficiently
cnlightened and guided by the mere act of perusal, 'while their
ll1illds rClnain in a pa
si\-e state. ...\.nd some, I belicve, proceed
thus on principle, consirlcriug that they are the better re-
cipient
of revealed truth the less they exercise their own
rca
OIl.
, Hut this is to proceed on a totally mistaken yicw of the
rcal prOyillCe of rcaSOll. It would, indeed, be a great error to
attempt substituiing for reyelation conjectures fral11cd in our
on n Inind, or to speculate on matters concerning which we
have an Ì111perfect knowledge imparted to us by rcyelation, and
could haye had, ,,-ithout it, none at all. But thi:s would be,
not to u:::;c, but to abuse, our rational faculties. By the use of
our senses, which are as much the gift of the Creator as any-
thing eI:se "e enjoy,-3.nd by employing our reason on the
ohjccts around us, we can obtain a certain
tlnount of ,aluable
knowlcdge. And beyond this, there are certain othcr points of
knowlcdge unattainable by these faculties, and which God has
thought fit to impart to us by his inspired nlesscng('rs. But
hoih the ,olumes-that of Nature and that of llc,-c1ation-
which He has thought good to lay bcfore us, arc to be carefully
studicd. On both of thelll we must diligently cmploy the
faculties with which lIe, the Author of both, has endued us, if
we would dcrive the full benefit 1Ì'om his gifts.
,rl'hc telescopc, "c know, hrings within the sphere of our
own vision nluch that wOlùd be ulldi:sccrnible b)
the Iw.ked

44 2

Of Studies.

[Essay 1.

eye; but ,ye must not the less en1ploy our eyes in making use
of it; and we must watch and calculate the rnotions, and reason
on the appearances, of the heayenly bodies, which are visible
only through the telescope, with the saIne care we en1ploy in
respect of those seen by the naked eye.
, A nd an analogous procedure is requisite if we would deriye
the intended benefit frolll the pages of inspiration, which were
designed not to saye us the trouble of inquiring and reflecting,
hut to enable us, on some points, to inquire and reflect to better
Plu'lJOSe-not to super
ede the use of our reason, but to supply
its deficiencies.'
Although, how eyer, it is quite right, and most important,
that the tltougltts should be exercised on the subject of "rhat
you are reading, there is one Inode of exercising the thoughts
that is yery hurtful; which is, that of substituting conjectures
for attention to what the author says. PrelinlÍnary reflection
on the suhject is, as has becn aboye said, yery useful in nlallY
cases; though, by the way, it is unsafe as a preparation for the
study of ScriptuJ'e,. and, in all studies, care should be taken to
guard against allowing the judgnlent to be biassed by notions
hastily and prelnaturely adopted. And again, after you haye
studied an author, it will he yery adyisable (supposing it is an
uninspired and consequently fallible one) to reflect on what he
says, and consider whether he is right) and how. far.
But while actually engaged in perusal, attcnd to wl1at the
"Titer actually says, and endeayour fairly to arriye at his
nlcRllillg, before you proceed to speculate upon it for yourself.
The study of a book, in short, should be conducted nearly
according to the salne rule that Bacon lays down for the study
of nature. lIe warns philosoplJèrs, earnestly and often, against
substituting for what he calls the 'interl'ogatio naturæ,' the
'anticipatio naturæ;' that is, instead of attentive obseryation
and expcrirnellt, fornlillg conjectures as to ,,,hat seenlS to us
likely, or jitting, according to son1e hypothesis devised by our-
sehTes. In like nlanner, in stu(lying an author, you should
ketjJ apart interpretation and conjecture.
A good teacher warus a student of some book in a foreign
language that he is leal'uing, not to guess what the author is
likely to have meant, and then twist the words into that sense,
against the idionl of the language; but to ue led by the ,yords

E....
a'. 1 ì
., oJ

...-lnnolatiollS.

4+3

in the fir
t il1
tauce; and thf\u, if a difficulty as to the sellse
rCll1ains, to ;!."lC
S which of the possible l11eauing
of the words
is the Blost likely to he th(' right.
E.g. 'rIte words in the original of John xviii. 15, ,
;;ÀÀoç
)t"()J1T

',' pla
nly signify' the other disciple;' and one of the
connnentator:-ï, pcrcei\.illg that this i
inconsistent with the
opinion he had taken up, that this disciple wa
John hiIllself
(
ince John had not been Inentiollcd hefore, and the .A.rticlc,
therefol'c, would nlake it refcr to Judas, who alone had hecll
just abo,.c nameù), bolcl1y suggests that tlle 1 w eadillD IIlust be
'll'/'O/l!l (though an the
ISS. agre
in it), and that the ....\.rticle
oug-ht to be omitted, because it ''''ïJoils tlie sense; that is, the
SCI1::5e which agrees with a conjecture adopted in defiance of the
\\ onl
of thc p
::;age.
This one ill
tallee DIay
CITe as a specinIcn of the way in
which
omc, instead of illtcrpreting au author, undertake to
re-write \\ hat he has said.
The like rulc holds good in otl1er studics) quite as much as
in that of a languagc. 'Ye :should bc eyer on our guard against
the tPlldCllCY to read through colollred spectacles.
:Educatioual habits of thought, analogies, anteccdent reason-
ings, feclings, and wishcs, &c., will be always leading us to
forn1 some conjectural hypothe
is, which is not necessarily
hurtful, ancl l11ay
onletinlCS furHi
h a useful hint, hut which
IllU:st he 1l10ftt carefully watched, lcst it produce an unfair bias,
and lead you to strain into a eonfornlity with it the ,yords or
the phenomena beforc you.
....\. man set:-ï out with a conjecture as to what the _\.postles
are likely to hayc :"aid, or oU!Jht to have said, in confornlÍty
with the theological systenl hc ha.., learnt j or what the )Iost
lIigh may hayc done or designed; or what is, or is not, agree-
ahle to th
' analogy of faith' (see Campbell on the Go
pel
);
i.e., uf a picce with the christian systeln,-llanlely, that which
lie has hecD taught, by falliblc IIzen, to regard as the chri::,tiall
systcrn; and then he IJroccrds to e
atlline
criptllre, as he
would exanlinc with leading que..;! ions a \\ itlless \\ horn hc had
sUlnnloncd ill his caU:5c.
, As the fool thinketh,

o the bell chinketh.'
l)crhaps hc ( p,ways tlu w Olf!Jll' aU the Bible; Hot \\ ith a candid

444

Of Studies.

[Essay 1.

and teachahle mind, seeking instruction, but unconsciously
praying that he nlay find ltiJnself in the 'rigId. And he .wl11
seldom fail.

, Hic libel' est In quo quærit sua dogmata quisque;
Inycnit et pariter ùogmata quisque sua.'
, In this book many students seel{ each one to find
The doctrine or precept that's most to his mind:
And each of them finùs what they earnestly seek;
}'or as the fool thinks, eycn so the bells speak.'

It is the same with philosophy. If you ha,'e a strong wish
to find phenomena such a
to confirul the conjectures you have
formed, and allow that wish to bias your examination, you are
ill-fit
ed for interrogating nature. IJoth that, and the otlter
'l;o!znne of the records of what God does,- Re\'elation,-are to
be interrogated, not as witnesses, but as instructors. You must
let all your conjectures han.lJ loose upon you j and be prepared
to learn front ,,-hat is written in each of those volumes, "rith
the aid of the conjectures of reason j not 11"01n reason (nor, by
the bye, from feelings and fancies, and wishes, and hUlnan
authority), with Scripture for your aid.
This latter procedure, ,,-hich is a very COITlmOn one with
theological students, may be called making an anagrarn of
Scripture,-taking it to pieces and reconstructing it in the
n10de] of some hunlan systeln of 'Institutes:' building a temple
of one's own, consisting of the stones of the true one pulled
do,,'n and put together in a ne\v fashion.
Yet divines of this description are often considered by others
as ,veIl as by themselves, pre-en1inently scriptural, from their
continual enlploynlent of the very
vorrds of Scripture, and their
readiness in citing a profusion of texts. But, in reality, instead
of using a human c017IJllt:ntary on Scripture, they use Scripture
itself as a kind of counnelltary on some hurnan system. They
make the
varp human, and interwea,'e an abundance of Scrip-
ture as a woof; ",hich is just the reverse of the right procedure.
But this lllay be called, truly, in a certain sense, 'taking a
text frou
Scripture,' 'preaching such and such a doctrine out
of Scripture,' and ' improt"ing Scril)ture.'
Thus it is that men, \yhell con1pal'ing their opinions with the
standard of God's 'Y ord, suffer these opinions to bend tile rule
by which they are to be measured. But he who studies the
Scriptures ShOlÙd renlenlber that he is consulting the Spirit of

E
,
a y 1. ]

.Auitol atlolls.

4....5

rrruth, and if he would hope for his aid, through "hose cn-
lightening and supporting gr.lce alone those Seripture
cau he
rcad with a(h"autage, he lunst search honc
tly anti Cal'llcstly for
the truth.

C ileal! not to contradict and confute; It010 to believe and take jOÎ.
granted.'

"Tith respect to the defcrcnce due to the opInIons (written
or :spokcn) of intclligent and wcll-inforn1ed men, it luay he
rClnarkcd, that befol'e a question Ita.;; becn fully arg-uc(l, there is
a pl'C"
llIllptioll that they are in the right; but afterwards, if
oùjcctions have been brought which they have failed to answer,
the prcsuluption is the othcr way. The wiser, and the more
lcarncd, and the 11lore rllUllcrons, are those opposcd to you, and
the nlore strcnuous and p
1'8e\.el'illg their opposition, the greater
is the probahility that if thcre were any flaw in your argulnent
they would have refuted you. .\.lld thercfore your adhering to
an opposite opinion frorn theirs, so far frolll bcing a luark of
arrogant contenlpt, i
, in reality, t1}e strongest proof of a high
respect for thcm. For e,,-ample- The strongest confirmation of
the fidelity of the translations of Scripture, published by the
Iri
h School Commissioners, is to be found in the luallY futile
attempts, made by IllallY able and learneù men, to detect errors
in them.
F]'his important distinction is often oyerlooked.

C Reading maketh a full ?nan, conference a ready 'lnan, and
1vritiJ/g an exact luan.'

"\Y riting an Analysis, table of Contents, In.1ex, or N otcs, to
any book, is ycry Ï1nportallt for the study, properly so called,
of any suhject. Aud so, also, is tilC practice of previously con-
,pcrsing or "riting on the subject you are about to study.
I have elsewhcre alluded to this kind of pl'acticc/ and sug-
gestcd to the tca('hcr' to put before his pupils, pret"iously to
thcir reading each le
son, some questions pcrtaining to the
mattcr of it, rcquiring of thelll answers, oral or written, the

1 t'ec Preface to Eas!! Lessol
s OIl. Reasonillg. P.Ige v.

44 6

OJ Studies.

[Essay I.

best they can think of 'lcitltout consulting the book. X ext, lct
thcm rcad the les
on, having othcr questions, such as may lcad
to any needful explanations, put before thelll as they proceed.
l\nd afterwards let thelll be exalnined (introducing nU111erOUS
examl)les fran1(
d by thelnsclyes, and by the teacher) as to the
portion they ha\'e learned, in order to judge ho,v far they
relnem ber it.
, Of the three kinds of questions,-which n1ay he called,
J, Preliminary questions; 2, questions of instruction; and
3, questions of e:ranLÏnation,-the last alone are, by a con-
siderable portion of instructors, COITln10nly eillployed. And the
clenlentary books commonly known as ' catechisnls,' or 'books
in question and answer,' consist, in reality, of questions of this
description.
'But the second kind,-what is properly to be called in-
structive questioning,-is enlp]oreù by all ,,-ho deserve to be
reckoned good teachers.
'The first kind-the preliminary questioning-is employed
(systematically and constantly) but by few. And, at first sight,
it n1ight be supposed by those who haye not had experience of
it, that it would. be likely to increase the learners' difficulties.
But if any ,,'ell-qualified instructor will but carefully and judi-
cious]y try the experiment (in teaching any kind of science), he
will be surprised to find to ho,v great a degree this exercise of
the student's l11incl on the subject will contribute to his ad-
yancement. lIe ,,-ill find that ,,'hat has been taught in the
n10de above suggested, ,,'ill have been learnt in a shorter time,
will have been far the Inore thoroughly understood, and will be
fixed incomparably the better in the men10ry.'
Curiosity is as much the parent of attention, as attention is
of memory; therefore the first business of a teacher-first, not
only in point of time, but of importance-should be to excite,
not merely a general curiosity on the subject of the study, but a
particular curiosity on l)articular points in that subject. To
teach one "ho has no curiosity to learn, is to so,,' a field with-
out ploughing it.
And this process saves a student from heing (as many arc)
intellectually damaged by haying a very good memory. For,
an unskilful teacher is content to put before his }Tupils Tfhat
they have to learn, and ascertaining that they remenlbcr it..

Es:,ay 1.]

Alillo/at iO/l,
.

4{7

J\I1<1 t1UlS tho:-:(' of them" hOM' mClnory i" ready anù retcnti,-e,
ha'"c theil' JniJHl left in a Inercly pa:-.
i\'e' ::.;tatc, aHd arc like a
person alwa) s carried ahout in a
('(lan chair, tiU he lias ahno
t
lo"t the use of his liInus. And then it is lluulc a wondcr that

per!'òoll \\ hù has been ;:;0 well taught, and who wal;) so quick
in learning and remcJnhering, should not pro\'c an able nlan;
which is ahout as reasonaùle as to expect that a eapaciou:'\
ci
terll, if filleù, should he con'"Pl,tcd into a percnnial fountain.
:\Iany are
aYed, by the deficiency of thcir n1enlory, frol11
lJciug spoileJ by their education; for those who hayc no cxtra-
ordinary lllcillory arc driven to supply its defccts hy think;',!!.
If they do not remenlher a Juathcluatieal deilloll:ò:tl'ation, thcy
are driven to devise one. If they do Hot exactly retain what
l\ristotlc or Smith havc said, thcy are dl'ivcn to consider what
they" Cl'e likel!! to havc baid, or ought to ha, e
aid. Ànd
thus their facultie

l'e iuyigorated hy cxerei;,;e.
X ow, this kiud of c
ercises a skilful teacher will afford to
all; so that no onc shall be spoiled by thc goodness of his
Inenlory.
...:\. very COlnnlon practice lnay lJe here noticed, which should
hp a,'oidcd, if we would crcate a habit of studying" ith pl'ofit-
that of making chiJÙl'en learn by 'rote what they do not under-
stand. 'It is done on this plea-that they will hereafter learn
the meaning of what they have bcen thus taught, and will be
ahle to lnake a practical ll:,e of it,H But no attempt at econolny
of tilHe can he more injudicious. Let any child whosc capacity
is so far maturcd as to enable hiln to conlprchend an explana-
tion,-e.g., of thc Lord's Prayer,-havc it tllen put before hinl
for the' first tin1c, ana whcn h<.' is nlade acquainted with the
mealliug of it,
et to lcarn it by heart j and can anyone doubt
that, in lc:,s than half a day's application, he would bc ahle
to l'cpeat it fluently ( And the same ,,'ould be the case with
other fonns. .All that i
learnc{l by rote hy a child hefore
he i
competent to attach a nlealliHg to the words he utters,
"ould not, if all put together, amount to so nluch as would
cost hilU, when able to understand it, a week's labour to learn
pCl'fectly. \Yhercas, it may cost the toil, often the yain toil,
of luan)' rears, to unlearn the habit of formalism-of repeatiug

1 LolldQ)J Reriew. 1'\0. xi. pages .p2, .P3.

44 8

Of Studies.

[Essay I.

words by rote ,vithout attending to their meaning; a hahit
,vhich everyone conversant with education kno,ys to be in all
subjects lllost readily acquired by children, and ,vith ùifficulty
avoided even ,,,,ith the utn10st care of the teacher; but which
such a p1an must inevitably tend to generate. I t is often said,
and very truly, that it is in1portant to form early habits of
piety; but to train a child in one kind of habit, is not the
most likcly ,yay of forming thc opposite onc; and nothing can
be more contrary to true l)iety, than the Romi:sh superstition
(for such in fact it is) of attaching efficacy to the repetition of a
certain form of ,yorcls as a charln, indcpendent of the under-
standing and of the heart.
'It is also said, ,,,ith equal truth, that ,ve ought to take
advantage of the facility which children possess of learning: but
to infer frolTI thence, that Providence designs us to make such
a use (or rather abuse) of this gift as ,ve have been censuring, is
as if ,,'e ,yere to take advantage of the readiness with 'which a
new-born babe swallo,vs ,vhatever is put into its nlouth, to dose
it ,,'ith ardent spirits, instead of ,vholesome food and necessary
medicine. 'l'he readiness ,vith which children learn and re-
menlbel' ,yords, is in truth a rnost inlportant advantage if rightly
employ cd ; viz. if appEeJ to the acquiring that mass of what
may bc called arbitfrary knowlcdge of insulated fact
, which can
only be learned by rote, and which is necessary in after life;
,,,hen the acquisition of it ,vould both be more troublesome,
and would encroach on tin1e that might otherwise be better em-
ployed. Chronology, nallles of countries, ,veigllts and measurcs,
aud indeed all the words of any language, are of this descrip-
tion. If a child had even ten time8 the ordinary degree of
the faculty in question, a judicious teachcr would find abund-
ance of useful employment for it, ,vithout resorting to any that
could possibly be detrÏ111cntal to his future habits, moral, reli-
gious, or intellectual.'

One yery useful precept for studcnts, is never to re'iìzain long
puzzling out any difficulty; but lay the book and the subject
aside, and return to it some hours aftcr, or next day; after
haying turued thc attention to something else. Sometimes a
person will ,yeary his mind for several hours in some efforts
(which n1Íght have been spared) to make out SOITIe difficulty; and
next day, ,vhen he returns to the subject, will find it quite easy.

]

ay 1.J

Annotations.

449

Thc l1kc tal\:es place in the effort to rccollcct SOUle /lal/le. l? on
may fatigue yourself ill vain for hours together; and if you turn to
sOlnethillg cbe (which yon n1Íght as well have done at once)
the name will, as it were, flash across you without an effort.
Thcr
is sOlucthing analogous to this, in refcrencc to the
sccnt of dogs. 'Yhen a woundcd bird, for instance, has been
lost in the thicket, and the dogs fail, aftcr some search, to find
it, a skilful sportsman always draws them off, and hunts them
cl
ewhere fur an hour, and then brings them back to the spot
to try afresh; and they will often, then, find their gaille readily;
though, if they had been hunting for it all the time, they would
haye failed.
It seelns as if the dog-and the mind-having got into a kind
of lorong track, continued in the sanle error, till drawn conl-
l)letcly away elsewhere.
Always trust, thcrefol'e, for the overcoming of a difficulty,
not, to long cOlltiltued study after you haye once got bewildered,
but to 'repeated trials, at illtel"-als.
It may be here observed that the student of any science or
art, should not only distinctly understand all the technical lan-
guage, and all the rules of the art, but also learn thenl by rote,
so that they Inay be rell1elnhered as familiarly as the alphabet,

n)(1 employed constantly and with scrupulous exactness. Other-
wise, techuical language ,-rill prove an encu111hrance instead of
an ad ,-antage, just as a suit of clothes would be, if, instead of
putting thel11 on and wearing them, one should carry them about
i 11 his hands.

, There is no stond or impediment in the t()it, hut rnay be wrought
out by fit studies.'

It is a pity that Bacon did not lllore fully explain the mode
in which diflercnt lállds of studies act on the mind. .A.s an ex-
cl'ci
e of the reasoning faculty, pure mathenlatics is an admirahle
exercise, because it consists of rreasoning alone, and docs not
encun1ber the student ,,'ith any exercise of judgment: and it is
well always to begin with ]earning one thing at a time, and to
defer a combination of Inental exercises to a later period. But
then it is Ïlnportant to renlelnbel' that mathematics does no!
exercise the judgment; and conseqnently, if too exclusi\"ely
GG

45 0

Of Studies.

[Essay 1.

pursued, may leave the student very ill qualified for moral
reasolnngs.
1, The definitions, 'which are the l)rinciples of our reasoning,
are very fe1v, and the axioms still fewer; and both are, for the
most part, laid d01VIl and placed b(forre tlie student in the outset;
the introduction of a nel\T definition or axiom, being of com-
l)al'atively rare occurrence, at wide interyals, and with a forrllal
statement, be
ides ,,-hich, there is no 1'00111 for doubt concerning
either. On the other hand, in all reasonings which regard
matters of fact, we introduce, almost at et't:"Y step, fresh and
fresh propositions (to a yery great nunlber) which had not been
elicited in the course of our reasoning, but are taken for granted.;
viz., facts, and laws of nature, which are here the principles of
our reasoning, and
naæirns, or ' elements of belief,' ,,-hich an-
Slyer to the axio1l1s in mathen1atics. If, at the opening of a
treatise, for exan1ple, on chen1Ïstry, on agriculture, on political-
economy, &c., the author should make, as in mathematics, a
forn1.al statement of all the propositions he intended to assume
as granted, throughout the whole ,vork, both he and his readers
would be astonished at the nUll bel' ; and, of these, many ,,"ould
be only IJl'obable, and there .would he luuch l'oom for doubt as
to the deg,'ee of probability, and for juc1gn1ent in ascertaining
that degree.
'l\1:oreover, n1athem atica] axion1s are alwars enlployed pl'e-
cisely in tlte sanze simple forul: e.g., the axionl that' the things
equal to the same are equal to one another,' is cited, whenever
there is need, in those very ,yords; ,,,hereas the n1axims em-
ployed in the other class of subjects, admit of, and require,
continual modifications in the application of them. E.g.,' the
staùility of the laws of nature,' which is our constant assulnption
in inquiries relating to natural philosop}1Y, appears in many
different shapes, and in some of them does not possess the same
c01l1plete certainty as in others; e.g., ,,-hen, fronl haying always
observed a certain sheep rUlninating, we infer, that this indi-
vidual sheep ,vill continue to ruminate, we aSSUllle that 'the
IH'operty which has hitherto belonged to this sheep will rel11ain
unchanged;' when we illfcr the san1C property of all sheep, we
assume that' the property which ùelongs to this individual bclongs

1 Elements of LO!lic.

Essay 1.J

Annotations.

45 1

to the ,,-hole species:' if, on comparing sheep with some other
kinds of horned animals/ and finding that all agrce in run1Ïnat-
ing, we infer that 'all horned animals rUlnillate,' we assunle
that 'the whole of a genus or class are likely to agree in any
point wherein many species of that genus agree:' or in other
words, 'that if one of two properties, &c. has of tell been found
accolnpanied by another, and never without it, the forlner .will
be llJlÜ.ersally accompanied by the latter:' now all these are
merely different fornls of the maxim, that 'nature is uniform
in her operations,' which, it is evident, varies in expression in
almost every different case where it is applied, and the applica-
tion of which adn1Ïts of every degree of evidence, fro111 perfect
moral certainty, to mere conjecture.
'The same may be said of an infinite number of principles
and maxims appropriated to, and employed in, each particular
branch of study. Hence, all snch reasonings are, ill cOlnparison
of mathematics, "ery comple
; requiring so much 'Jìlore than
that does, beyond the process of merely d{'ducing the conclusion
logically from the premises: so that it is no wonder that the
longest mathenlatical demonstration should be so llluch more
easily constructed and understood, than a much shorter train
of just reasoning concerning rcal facts. The former has heen
aptly cOlnpared to a long and steep, but even and regular, flight
of steps, which tries the breath, and the strength, and the per-
seyerancc only; while the latter resclnhles a short, but rugged
and uneven, ascent up a precipice, which requires a quick eye,
agile liUlbs, and a fil'm step; and in ,,-hich we haye to tread
now on this side, now on that-eyer considering, as we proceed,
,,-!tether this or that projection will afford room for our foot, or
,,,hether sonle loose stone nlay not slide from under U
. There
are probably as lliany steps of pure reasoning in one of the
longer of Euclid's demonstrations, as in the whole of an argu-
nlentati'Te treatise on SOllle othpr subject, occupying perhaps a
considerable voluine.
'It may be obser,-ed here that mathematical reasoning, as
it calls for no exercise of judgment rcspecting probabilities, is
the best kind of introductory exercise; and ftom the same cause,

1 Viz., having horns on tl
e skull. \Y1mt are called the horns of the rhinoceros
are quite different in origin, and in structure, as well as in situation, from what are
properly caned horns.

G G 2

45 2

Of Studies.

[Essa y 1.

js apt, when too exclusively Inu'sued, to make nlen incorrect
Inoral-reasoners.
, As for those ethical and legal reasonings which were lately
mentioned as in some l'espects resembling those of mathematics,
(viz. such as keep clear of all assertions respecting facts) they
have this difference; that not only men are not so c0111plctely
agreed respecting the maxims and principles of ethics and la,v,
but the n1eaning also of each term cannot be absolutely, and
for ever, fixed by an arbitrary definition; on the contrary, a
great I)art of our labour consists in distinguishing accurately
the various senses in ,,-I1Ïch men employ each tcrm,-ascertain-
ing "which is the most proper,-and taking care to avoid con-
founding them together.
'It may be worth while to add in this place that as a candid
disposition,-a hearty desire to judge fairly, and to attain truth,
-are eyidently necessary with a view to give fair play to the
reasoning-power3, ill subjects where ,ve are liable to a bias from
interest or feelings, so, a fallacious perversion of this ma
Ï1n
finds a place in the minds of some persons: ,yho accordingly
speak disparagingly of all exercise of the reasoning-faculty in
n10ral and religious subjects; declailIlÍng on the insufficiency of
mere intellectual power for thc attainment of truth in such
matters,-on the necessity of appealing to the heart rather than
to the head, &c., and then leading their readers or themselves
to tIle conclusion that the less we reason on such subjects the
safer "e are.
'But the proper office of candaur is to prepare the mind not
for the rejection of all evidence, but for the right reception of
evidence ;-not, to be a sub.fttitute for reasons, but to enable us
fairly to 'weigh the reasons on both sides. Such persons as I
anl alluding to are in fact saying that since just wcights alonr!,
without a just balance, will avail nothing, therefore "e ha,-e
only to take care of the scales, and let the weights take care of
themselves.
, This kind of tone is of course most especially to be found
in such writers as consider it expedient to inculcate on the mass
of mankind what-there is reason to suspect-tIley do not
themseh'es fully believe, and which they apprehend is the nlore
likely to be reje( ted the more it is iuyestigated.'
I t is very important to warn aU readcrs of the influence

ESf'ay 1.]

AnnotatlÚ/1S.

453

likely to be exerciscd in the furination of tllCir opinions indirectly,
and by works not prof<.'sscdly argulnelltatiyc, such as pOCIllS and

ralcs. l
lctcher of Saltoun said, hc ,yollid let anyone haye
the making of the laws of a country, if he might have the
making of their ballads.
An oh
elTation in the Lectures on Political Econowy on one
cause which has contributed to foster an erroneous opinion of
the superior n10ral purity of poor and half-ciyilized countries, is
equally applicable to a nnlltiturle of other ea8e8, on various subject
.
, One powerful, hut little-suspected cause, I take to be, au early
f
lll1iliarity with poetical descriptions of pure, unsophisticatf'd,
rustic life, in renlote, sequestered, and unenlightened districts j-
of the n1anly yirtne and practical ,,-isdo111 of our sÌInple fore-
fathers, before the refinClllents of luxury had been introduced;-
of the achTenturous wildness, so stÍIllulating to the imagination,
of say age or pastoral life, in the n1Ídst of primæval forests, lofty
mountains, and all the grand scencry of ullcultivated nature.
Such suhjects and scenes are much better adapted for poets
than thronged cities, ,yorkshops, coal-pits, and iron-foundries.
And poets, whose object is to plcase, of course keep out of
sigljt all the odious or disgusting cirCUl118tances l}ertaining to
the life of the sayage or the untutored clown, and dwell exclu-
si,-ely on all the arniable and achnirable parts of that simplicity
of character which they feign or fallcy. Early associations are
thus forIlled, whos(' influence is often the stronger aud the
n10re lasting, froll1 the very circun1stance that they are formed
unconsciously, antI do not come in the fonn of propositions de-
nlallding a deliberate assent. Poetry does not profess to ain1
at conviction; hut it often leavcs inlpl'e
sions which affect the
reasoning and thc judgnIcllt. .A.ud a false inIpressioll is perhaps
oftener cOll,'eyed in other ways than by sophistical argunlent;
because that rouses the mind to exert its power3, and to assume,
as it were, a }'easoning nlood.' 1
The influence exercised by such works is oycrlookecl by those
who suppose that a child's character, nloral and intellectual, is
fOl
n1ed by those books only which arc put into his hands with

1 In a yt'ry recent puhlication I have
een mention made of a person who dis-
covereù the falsity of a certain doctrine (\\"hi('h, boY tIle way, is lle\"erthclc
8 a. true
on,c, that of :\falthus), instinclÜ'e1!l. This kind of instinct, i.e. the habit of form-
ing opinions at the
uggcstion rather of feeling Ulan of r('a
Oll, is H'r.y C0111111on.

454

Of Studies.

[Essay 1.

that design. As hardly anything can accidentally touch the
soft clay without stampillg its nlark on it, so hardly any reading
can interest a child without contributing in some degree, though
the book itself be afterwards totally forgotten, to fornl the cha-
racter; and the parent
, therefore, "ho, nlerely l'equiring fronl
him a certain course of study, pay little or no attention to story-
books, are educating him they know not ho,v.
And here, I ,,"ould observe that in books designed for
children, there are two extrenles that should be avoided. 'l'he
one, that l'eference to religious l)rillciples ill connection with
matters too trifling anù unùignified, arising froll1 a ,ypH-inten-
tioned zeal, causing a forgetfulness of the maxim whose
notorious truth has lllade it prorerbial, "roo much falTIiliarity
ùreeds contenlpt.' And the other is the contrary, and still nlore
prevailing, extreme, arising frolll the desire to preserve a due
reverence for religion, at the expense of its useful application in
conduct. But a line may he drawn which will keep clear of
both extrenles. 'Ve should not exclude the association of
things sacred with whaterer are to oU'rselres trifling matters,
(for 'these little things are great' to children), but, with ,,
hat- _
cyer is viewed hy then" as trifling. Everything is great or
snulll in reference to the parties concerned. The priyate
concerns of allY obscure individual are yery insignificant to the
world at large, but they are of great importance to hinlself.
And all worldly affairs HUlst be slTIall ill the
ight of the l\Iost
High; but irreyerent fanliliarity is engendered in the lllind of
anyone, tIJen, and then only, .when things sacred are associated
,yith such as are to hinl insignificant things.
And here I would add that those works of fiction are 'YOl'8e
than unprofitable that inculcate 111orality, with an exclusion of
all reference to religious principle. This is obviou
ly aud
notoriously the charactcr of
liss Edgeworth's In oral tales. And
so entire and resolute is this exclusion, that it is maintaincd at
the expense of what nlay be called poetical truth: it de
troy::;,
in lTIallY instances, the probahility of the tale, anù the natural-
ness of the characters. 'rhat Christianity does exist, evcry one
must bclie, e as an incontroycl"tible truth; nor can allY one deny
that, "hether true or false, it does exercise, at least is supposed
to exercisc, au influcnce on the feelings and conduct of some
of the believers ill it. 'ro rcpresent, therefore, persons of

Es:-;ay 1.]

AU/lotations.

455

yal'ions agcs, sc\., country, and station ill life, as practising, on
the 11l0St tryillg occa
iolls, cvery kind of duty, and encountcring
c,'cry kind of danger, difficulty, and hal'd
hip, while none of
thelll e,-er makcs the least ref
rence to a rcligious motive, i::) as
decidedly at variauce with reality-what i8 called in ,yorks of
fiction UJllutllu'ul-as it ,,'olLld he to represent
Iahonlet's
cnthusiastic foHowcrs as ru
hil)g into battle without any thought
of his promised paradise. This, therefore, is a blemish in point
of art, which evcry reader po:sse:s:sing taste nlust perceive, "hat-
c,'cr 111ay be his religious or non-religious persuasion. But a
far higher, anù rl10re inl portant, question than that of taste is
inyoh-ed. }'or though
Iiss Edgeworth may entertain opinions
"hich would not pern1Ít her, with consistency, to attribute ll10re
to tl1C
influence of religion than she has done, aud in that case
Inay stand acquitted, in foro cOllscientiæ, of wilfully suppressing
anything ,,-hich she acknowledges to be true and important;
)
ct, as a "riter, it nlust still be con
iùered as a great blen1Ïsh,
in thc eyes at least of those who think differently, that virtue
should be studiously inculcated, with scarcely any refcrellce to
what they regard as the mainspring of it-that vice should be
traced to every other source except the .want of religious
principle-that the 1110st radical change fronl worthle
sne:ss to
excellcnce ::;hould be represented as wholly independent of that
.L-\.gent, which they consider as the only one that can acconlplish
it-and that consolation under affliction should be represented
as deriyed froul t'yery source) except the one which thcy look to
as the only true and sure Olle. C Is it not because there is no
God in Israel, that ye have sent to inquire of ßaalzebub, the
God of Ekroll '?' f}'his vital defect in such works should be
constantly pointed out to the YOUll
reader; and he bhould be
"anled that, to realize the l)icture of noble, disinterested,
thorough-going virtue, prc.scnted ill such and such au instance,
it is absolutely necessary to resort to those prillciples which, ill
these fictions are unnoticed. lIc should, in short, he renlÍnded
that all these C things that are lo,-elyand of good report,' which
have been placed hefore hinI, arc the gcnuine fruits of the IIo]y
Land; though the spies who ha,-e brought them bring also an
c\ il report of that lanù, and woulù persuade us to reuu1.Ín wan-
dering in the wilderncss,

45 6

OJ Studies.

[Essay 1.

The student of history, also, should he on his guard against
the indirect influence likely to be exercised on his opinions. On
this point I take the liberty of quoting a passage from nlY
Lectures on Political Economy;-
, An injudicious reader of history is liable to be misled by
the circumstance, that historians and traycllcrs occupy them.
selyes principalJy (as is natural) with the relation of whate\-er is
rrenzarkahle, and different from ,yhat comlnonly takes place in
their own time or country. They do not dwell on the ordinary
transactions of human life (,vhich are precisely what furnish the
data on .which l)olitical-economy proceeds), but on eyerything
that appears an exception to general rulcs, and in any way such
as could not have been anticipated. The sort of information
,vhich the political-econon1Íst ,,-ants is introduced, for the most
part, only incidentally and obliquely; and is to be collectcd,
irnperfectly, from scattered allusions. So that if you will giye
a rapid glance, for instance, at the history of these islands froln
the tÍ1ne of the Korman conquest to the present day, you ,,,ill
find that the differences between the two states of the country,
in most of the points 'with which our science is conversant, are
hut very imperfectly accounted for in the main outline of the
narrati ve.
, If it were possible that we could haye a full repol't of the
COllllllon business and comn1011 cOllyersation, in the markets,
the shops, and the wharfs of Athens and Piræus, for a single
day, it would probaLly throw lnore light on the state of thiugs
in Greece at that time, in aU that political-econolny is 1110st
concerned with, than all the histories that are extant put
togeth er.
, rrhere is a danger, thereforp, that the mind of the studcnt,
who proceeds ill the manner I ha,-e described, n1ay haye been
c\-en drawn off from the class of facts which are, for the purpose
in question, most important to be attended to.
'For, it should be observed that, in all studies there is a
danger to he guarded against, which Bacon, with his usual
acuteness, has poiuted out: that most men are so anxious to
111ake or scek for, son1e application of ,,-hat they have bpen
lcarning, as not unfrequcntly to apply it inJpropcrly, by eudea-
youring, lest their knowledge should. lie by them idle, to bring
it to bear on some question to which it is irl'ele,-ant; like

E:ssay 1.]

A,l/IOta/ions.

457

IIoracc's painter, who, l)cing skilful in drawing a cyprp
s, was
for introducing one into the picturc of a
hipwrcck. Bacon
pOlnplaills of this tendency alnong the logicians and nlctaphy-
sicians of his day, who introduced an absurd and l)l_
rnicious
application of the studies in which they had becn con\-er
ant,
into natural philosophy: '_\.rtis
æpe ineptns fit u
us, ne sit
1ïllllus.' TIut the same danger besets those conyers ant in pyery
other study like\,"i
e (political ecollonlY of course not cxccpted),
that niay from tinle to tinlC haye occupied a large share of each
nlan's attention. lIe is tenlpted to seck for a solution of every
question on every subject, by a reference to his own fa,-ourite
scicnce or branch of knowledge; like a schoolboy when first
entrusted with a knife, who is for trying its edge on everything
that comes in his way.
,
O\V in refercnce to the point ilnmediately before us, he
who is well rcad in history and in tl'a\-els, should be warned of
the dauger (the ltlore on account of the real high inlvortance of
such knowledge) of 111Ísapplying it ;-of supposing that hecause
political econonlY is conversant with lallnan tralisactiùì1s, and he
is acquainted with so Inuch greater an aUlount of human l,"lln:-;-
actiolls than the generality of nlen, he Inust ha'-e an ach'alltage
ovcr thenl in precisely the saU1C degree, in discussing qnestions
of political economy. Undouhtedly he has a great a(hTantage,
if hc is careful to keep ill view the true principles of the science j
but otherwise, he nlay even labour under a dis-advantage, by
forgctting that (as I just now obser,-ed) the kind of tl'ansaptiolls
which are nlade 1110St prolllillent, and occupy the chief space, in
the works of historian
and trayellcrs, are usually not those of
e,-cry-day life, with which political econoll1Y is conyel'
ant. It
is in the same way that an accurate Illilitary surrey of any
district, or a series of sketches accompanying a plcturl:sfJlle tour
through it, Inay even scr,,-e to nlislcad one who is 8ccking for a
knowledge of its agricultural condition, if he docs not keep in
luind thc differeut objects which differcnt kinù
of sun'ey hare
III VIew.
'Gcologists, when comnlis
ioning their fricnds to procure
thenl frOlll any forcig!1 country f'uch specimens as n1ay COllYCY
au idea of it
geological character, are accustomed to warn thenl
against sending o\-er conection
of cllrio.Ûties-i.e. speeinlens of
sp
r3, stalactite
, &c., which arc accounteù, ill that cOllntry,

45 8

Of Studies.

[Essa
Y 1.

curious, from being rarities, and .which consequently convey no'
correct notion of its genera] features. '''"hat they want is,
specÍlIlens of the C01JlJìlOnest strata,-the stones with which the
roads are mended, and the houses built, &c. And SOllle fl'ag-
luents of these, which in that country arc accounted mere
rubbish, they sometimes, with mueh satisfaction, find casually
adhering to the specÏ1nens sent them a:s curiosities, and consti-
tuting, for their ohject, the n10st important part of the collec-
tion. I-listories are in general, to the political economist, what
such collections are to the geologist. The casual allusions to
common, and what are considered insignificant matters, convey,
to him, the most valuable information.
'An injudicious study of history, then, may even prove an
hindrance instead of a help to the forming of right views of
political econonlY. For not only are many of the transactions
,,-hich are, in the historian's yicw, the most in1portant, such as
are the least important to the political econon1Ïst, but also a
great propurtion of them consists of .what are in reality the
greatest in/pediments to the progress of a society in ,,-ealth: viz.
'val'S, revolutions, and disturbances of every kind. It is not in
consequcnce of these, hut in spite of them, that society has
made thc progress which in fact it has nlade. So that in
taking such a survey as hjstory furnishes of the course of
eyents, for instance, for the last eight hundred years (the period
I just now alluded to), not only do we finù little 111ention of the
can
es 'which lun e so greatly increa
ed national wealth during
that pcriod, but what we chiefly do read of is, the counteracting
causes; especially the ,yars which ha"e been raging from till1e
to tin1e, to the destruction of capital, and the hindrance of
improyemcnt. N O'Y, if a ship had perfornled a yoyage of eight
hundred l('ague
, and the register of it contained an account
chif'flv of the contrary ,vinds and current
, and n1ade little
oJ "'
mention of fayourable gales, we lnight well he at a loss to under-
stand how she reached her destination; and Tnight e,-en be led
into the n1Ïstake of supposing that the contrary wind8 had for-
,yarded hf'r in her course. Yet such is history l'
In reff'rence to the study of history, I have elsewher

relllarked upon the inlportauce, aU10ng the intellectual quali-
fications for such a study, of a vi,-id inlagillation,-a faculty
.which, consequently, a bkilful narrator must himself possess.

Essay I.J

Annotations.

459

and to which he must he able to furnish excitement in others.
Son1e may, perhap:s, be startlcd at this rcrnark, who haye bepu
accl1stonlcd to con:-ìidcr iluagination as haxing no other offiee
than to feigl/> and to falsify. Evcry faculty is liable to abuse
and misdirection, aud imagination among the rest; but it is a
mistake to suppose that it nece:s:sarily tend:s to perycrt the
truth of history, aha to n1Ïslead the judgInellt. On the con-
trary, our view of any transaction, eSl}ecially one that is remote
in tÍlne or placc, "rill necessarily be ilnperfect, generally in-
correct, unless it embrace something 11101'e than the bare outline
of the occurrcnces,-unless we have before the mind a lively
idea of the sccnes in which the events took place, the habits of
thou2"bt :..nd of fceling of the actors, and all the circumstances
connected ,vith the tralu
action; unless, in short, ,ve can in a
considcrable degrce transport our:sel \'es out of our own age, and
country, and persons, and in1agine ourselves the agents or
spcctators. It is frorn con:sideration of all these circumstances
that we are enabled to forIn a right judgIllcnt as to the facts
which history records, and to derive instruction fron1 it. 'Yhat
we ÎInagine may indecd be nlcrely iJJzaginary, that is, unreal;
but it may again be what actually does or did exist. To say
that ÎIl1agillation, if not regulated by sound judgment and suffi-
cient knowledge, may chance to convey to us false impressions
of past evcnts, is only to say that
Ian is fallible. But such
false Ílnpressions are even rnucÌt the more likely to take pos-
session of those ,,-hose Í1nagination is feeble or ul1cultiyated.
'rhey are apt to Ï1nagine the things, persons, tin1es, countries,
&c., which they rcad of: as much less different froln what they
see around theIn, than is really the case.
The practical ÏInportance of such an exercise of imagination
to a full, and clear, and consequently profitable view of the trans-
actious relatcd iu history, can hardly be o,-er-estimated. In
rcspect of the very earliest of all human transactions, it is
nlatter of COllnnon rell1ark how prone lnany are to regard with
luinglcd wonder, contelnpt, and indignation, the transgre
sioll
of our first parcllts; as if they were llút a fair sample of the
human race; as if allY of us would 11ot, if hc had becn placca
in precisely the saIne CirCUlTIstances, have acted as they did.
r.t'he Corinthians, probably, had perused with the smne barrea
wondcr the history of the backslidillgs of the Israclitcs; aliÙ

4 60

Of Studies.

[Essay 1.

neeùed that Paul should rerrtÏnd them, that these things ,yere
"Titten for their exalnple and aehnonition. And all, in ahnost
every portion of history they read, have nccd of a corresponding
,yarning, to endeavour to fancy thenlselyes the persons they
rcad of, that they may recognize in the accounts of past times
the portraiture of our own. From not putting ourselves in the
place of the persons liying in l)ast times, and entering fully
into all their feelings, ,,-e are apt to forget ho,,
vrobable many
things might appear, which we kno"r did not take place; and
to regard as perfectly chin1erical, expectations which we kno,v
were not realized, but which, had ,ve li,.cd in those times, we
should doubtless have entertained; and to Ï1nagine that there
was no danger of those evils which .were, in fact, escaped. 'Ye
are apt also to nlake too little allowances for In'ejuclices and
associations of ideas, ,yhich no longer exist l)recisely in the
saIne form among oursel '
es, but which, perhaps, are Hot nlore
at variance with right rcason than others with which ourselves
are in fected.

( Studies serve for deligllt) 101' ornanzent, and for ability.'

. '.Ve should, then, culti,.ate, not only the corn-fields of our
Ininds, but the pleasure grounds also. Every faculty and every
study, however worthless they may ùe, when not employed in
the serviee of God,-however debased and polluted, ,,-hen de-
,'oted to the sel'yice of sin,-beconle ennohled and sanctified
"'hen directed, by one whose constraining motive is the love of
Christ, to,yards a good object. Let not the Chl'i;;.tian then
think ' scorn of the pleasant lanel.' That land is the field of
ancient and 1110dern literature-of 1 hilosophy, in almost all its
departments-of the arts of reasoning and persuasion. Eyery
part of it may be culti,'atcd "ith advantage, as the Land of
Canaan when bestowed upon God's peculiar })eople. They were
not commanded to let it lie ,vaste, as incurably polluted by the
abon1Ïnatiol1s of its first inhabitants; but to cultiyate it, and
dwell in it, liying in obedience to the divine laws, and dedicating
its choicest fruits to the Lord their Gerl.

ESS}L Y LT. OF F ACTTOX.

1\ Ir ANY have an opinion not wise, that for a prince to govern
1\1- his estate/ or for a great per
ol1 to goycrn his proceediugs,
according to the respect to factions, is a principal part of policy,
whereas, contrariwise/ the chiefese wisdolu is, either ill ordering
those things ". hich are gencral, and wherein nlen of several
factions do lleverthele
s agree, 01' in dealing with correspondence
to particular persons one by one; but I say not that the COll-
sideration of factions is to be neglected.
Iean men, in their
ri:Úng, must adhere, but great men, that have strength in them-
sel\'es, were better to luaintaill themselves indiffereue and
neutral; yet eyeu in beginners, to adhere so moderately, as he
be a man of the one faction, ,yhich is most passable.'J with the
other, commonly giveth best way. The lower and weaker
faction is the firlner in conjunction; and it is often seen, that a
few that are sti
do tire out a greater number that are more
moderate. '''""hen one of the factions is extinguished, the
reulaining subdi\-ideth; as the faction between Lucullu$ and
the rest of the nobles of the senate (which they caned optiJuates)
held out awhile against the faction of Pompey and Cæsar; but
,,,hen the Senate's authority ,,'as pulled down, Cæsar and
Ponlpey' soon after brake. The faction, or party, of .A.ntollius
and OC'ta\Tius Cæsar against Brutus and Cassius, held out
likewise for a time; but when Brutus and Cassius were over...
thrown, then soon after Antonius ana Octa\'ius brake and
subdi vided. r.l'hese e:\.alnples are of "\"rars, but the sallIe holdeth
in private factions, and, therefore, those that are seconds ill
factions, do nlany tÍ1nes, ,,'hen the faction subdividedl, prove
principal
; but many tÎ1nes also they proye cyphers and
cashiered; for many a l11au's strcngth is in opposition, and,

1 Estate. State.
ee page I 14. 2 Contrnriwh;e. O/
the contrary. See page 7 i.
3 Chiefest. Chief. '.Kot a whit behind the verJ' clâefest Apostles.'-2 CO'I". ),.i. .3-
, Äntiochus the Great
Built up this city for bis clâefest seat.'-Shakespere.
4 Indifferent. See page 186.
:I Passable. Capable of being receiud. 'It i:o; with men as with false money'
one picce is morc or less passable than another.'-L'Eslrange. '

4 6 2

Of Faction.

[Essay Ii.

when that faileth, he gro,,'eth out of use. It is commonly
seen, that men once placed, take in ,,'ith the contrary faction
to that by which they enter: thinking, belike/ that they have
their first sure, and now are ready for a ne,v purchase. The
traitor in faction lightly2 goeth away with it, for when matters
llaye stuck long in balancing, the ,viuning of S0111e one lllan
casteth them, and he getteth all the thanks. The eyen carriage
between two factions proceedeth not always of3 nloderation, but
of a trueness to a man's self, with cnd to make use of both.
Certainly, in Italy, they hold it a little suspece in popes, ,,-hen
they haye often in their mouth, 'Padre commune;' 5 and take
it to be a sign of one that meaneth to refer all to the greatness
of his o"Tn house. I(ings had need be"Tare ho,v they side 6
themsel,-es, and make thenlselves as of a faction or pal ty; for
lcngues within the State are ever pernicious to monarchies; for
they raise an obligation paranlount to obligation of sovereignty,
and make the king' tanquam uuus ex nobis;' i as was to be
seen in the lcague of France. 'Yhen factions are carried too
high and too violently, it is a sign of weakncss in princes, and
Hluch to the prejudice both of their authority and business.
The lllotions of fact
ons under kings ought to be like the
motions (as the astronOlners speak) of the inferior orbs) which
may have their proper motions, but )Tet still are quietly carried
by the higher motion of ' prim Uln mobile.' 8

1 Belike. Probably. 'That good Earl of Huntingdon, who well esteemed my
father; haying, belike, heard some better words of me than I could deserve; made
earnest enquiry after me.'-Bishop Hall.
2 Lightly. Easily; readily.
, Be1ieye 't not lightly that Jour son
"Till not exceed the COllìIDoll.'-Sltakespej'e.
3 Of. F'J'om. See page 237.
4 Suspect. Suspicious.
'Certes, it is to mee sllspecf.'-Clwuce,'.
5 'Common Father.'
6 Side. To take a side. t As soon as discontents drove men into siding.'
7 '.As one of us.' 8 Primnm mobile. See page 120.

ESS..1.Y T
II. OF CERE
IOXIES
\
D
RESPECTS.l

H E that is only real had need have exceeding great parts of
virtue, as the stone had need to be rich that is set without
foil; but if a man mark it well, it is in praise and commenda.
tion of men a:s it is in gettings and gains; for the proyerb is
true, 'That light gains lll"tke heavy l)ur:ses,' for light gain3 come
thick, whereas great conle but no'v and then; so it is true, that
small matters ,vin great cOlnmendation, because they are con-
tinually in use and in note, whereas the occasion of any great
yil'tue conleth but on festi\Tals. Therefore it doth llluch add to
a Inan's }'cputation, and is (as Quecn Isabella said) like ])er-
petual letters comlnelldatory, to have good forms. 1'0 attain
thcIn, it almost sufficeth not to despise them; for so shall a
lllan obscrve thern in othcrs, and let him trust hinlself with the
rc.st; for if he laùour too much to exprcss them) he shall lose
their grace, which is to be natural and unaffccted. Some men's
behaviour is like a verse, ,vherein every syllabic is measured.
II ow can a nlan conlprehend great matters, that breaketh his
n1Ïlld too nluch to slnall ohseryations ?:1 Not to use ceremonies
at all, is to teach others not to use thenl again, and so diminish
respect to hinlself; especially they arc not to be omitted to
strangers and formal natures; but the dwelling upon thCIll, and
exalting thcnl above the moon, is not only tedious) but both
din1Ïuish the faith anù credit of hinl that speaks; and, certainly,
there is a kiud of conveying of effectual and itnprinting 3 passages
amongst compliments, which is of singular use, if a nlall can hit
upon it. Amongst a man's peers a lllan shall be sure of fanli-
liarity, and therefore it is good a little to keep state; amongst

1 Ceremonies and respects. Con:t'eniional forms of politeness, and rltles of
etiquette.

, The sauce to meat is ceremony;
l\Ieeting were bare without it.'-Sltakespere.
, 'Yhat art thou, thou idle ceremoll!l !

Art thou aught else but place, degree and form ?' -Shake.<;:pere.
'The Duke's carriage to the gentlemen ,,,-as of fair respects.' -1VoltOJf. ,
2 Observations. Observances. 'He freed the christian Chur
h from the
external observation.'- JVhile.
3 Imprinting. Impressive.

4 6 4

OJ Cerenlonies and Respects.

[Essay Iii.

a man's inferiors one s}lall be sure of re,-erenee, and therefore
it is good a little to be familiar. lIe that is too luuch in any
thing, so that he gi\-cth another occasion of satiety, Dlaketh hirn-
self cheap. rro apply one's self to others is good, so it be with
delnollstration, that a lnan cloth it upon} rcgard and not upon
facility. It is a good precept generally in seconding another,
yet to add son1ewhat of one's own j as if you will grant his
opinion) let it be with son1e distinction j if you will follow his
motion, let it be with condition; if you allow his counsel, let it
be "ith alleging farther reason. 1\1 en had need beware ho\v
they be too perfect in conlplinlents, for be they never so snfli-
cient
otherwise, their enviers ,,,,ill be sure to give them that
attribute, to the disadvantage of their greater virtues. It is loss
also in business to be too full of respects, or to be too curious 3
in obser\Ting tinlcs and opportunities. Solomon saith, 'lIe that
considereth the wind shall not sow, and he that looketh to the
clouds shall not rea!).' 4 A "rise man win Inake more opportu-
nities than he finds. l\len's behaviour should be like their
apparel) not too strait or point device,ã but free for exercise 01'
motion.

AXTITHETA ON CEUE:\IOXIES AXD RESPECTS.

PRO.
'8i et in verbis vulgo pm'emus,
quidlli in hal,itu, et. ge
tn ?
, If we accommodate ourselves to the
'l.ntlgrlí ill our speeclz" u'lz,!/ not also in, O'll,.
deportment !'

'Yirtus et prudentia sine punctis,
velut peregl'inæ linguæ sunt; nam vulgo
non intelliguntur.

ridue and
cisdom 1{.ithoutf01'ms of
politeJles.<; are strange languages, for
they w'e not ordinarily unden;:tood.'

'Puncti tran
latio sunt virtutis in
lingu:.un vernaculam.
Fonns al'e the translation of virtue
into the vul!Jar tongue.'

COXTRA.
'Quid deformius, qu
m srenmll in
vitam transferre?
, 1Vhai can be more disgusting than to
transfer tlz,e stage into cO/J't1non life ?'

'l\fagis placellt cerussatæ buccæ, et
calamistrata coma, quam cerus
ati et
calami
trati mores.

Rouged cheelc.<; and curled hair are
less offensive than 'J'01lged and curled
ma tllers.'

} "Lpon. IIz, consequence of. See page 425,
2 Sufficient. Able. '\Vho is sufficient for these things ?'-2 Cor. ii. 16.
3 Curious. Exact; precise. 'Both these senses embrace their objects with a
more curious discrimin
ltion.'-Holder. 4 Eccles. xi. 4.
5 Point de,'ice. Extremel!! exact (with the nicety and precision of a stitch
(French poi/
t) devised or made with the needle).
Everything about you should
demonstrate a carele
s desolation; but JOu are rather point de vise in JOur accoutre.
ments, as loving yourself
than the lover of another.'-SltakeslJere.

Essay Iii.]

Annotations.

4 6 5

AXNOTATIOKS.

Good Inanners are a part of good nlorals; and when form is
too nluch neglected true politeness suffers diminution; then we
are obliged to bring sOllle back) or we find the .want of them.
The sallIC holds good in a higher department. )Iallkind are
not formed to live without ceremony and form: the 'in ward
spiritual grace' is very apt to be lost without the 'e"'\.ternal
vi:5ible sign.' l\Iany are continually setting up for the expulsion
of ceremonies frolll this or that, and often with advantage, .when
they have so IDtùtiplied as to grow burdensome; but, if ever
they have carried this too far they have been forced to bring
back some cerenlonies. Upon the whole, ,,'e may conclude that
ceremony and form of every kind derive their necessity from our
imperfection. If we were perfectly spiritual, ,,'e might worship
God without any form at all, without even uttering words; as
1ye are not, it is a fony to say, 'One may be just as pious on
one day as another, in one place, or posture, as another,' &c., I
answpr, angels may; man cannot. Again, if we were all per-
fectly benevolent. good-tempered) attentive to the gratifying of
others, &c., we n1Ïght dispense with all the fornls of good-
breeding; as it is, w.e cannot; ,ve are not euough of heroes to
fight without discipline. Selfishness ,,'ill be sure to assail us if
,,'e once let the barriers be broken down. At the same time it
is evident fronl what has bp,en said, that the higher our natzu'e
is carried, tile less form we need.
But though we may deservedly congratulate society on being
able to dispense "With this or that ceremony, do not let us be in
a hurry to do so, till 'we are sure we can do ,vithout it. It is
taking away crutches, to cure the gout. Thc opposite extreme
of substituting the external fornl for the thing signified, is not
more dangerous or more conIll10n than the neglect of that form.
It is all very ,yell to say, 'There is no use in bidding good-
morrow or good-night, to those who know I wish it; of sending
one's love, in a letter, to those who do not doubt it,' &c. All
this sounds very well in theory, but it will not do for practice.
Scarce any friendship, or any politeness, is 80 strong as to be
able to subsist without any external supports of this kind; and
it is even better to have too much form than too little.
HH

4 66

Of Cel.elnonies and Respects.

[Essa r Iii.

It is worth observing in reference to conyentional forms, that
the 'vernacular tOl1gue,' in ,vhich the forms of civility are ex-
pressed, differs in different times and places. For instance, in
Spain it is a common form of civility to ask a man to dinner,
and for the other to rel)ly, 'Sure you would not think of such
a thing.' To accept a fi
st or second invitation 'would be as
great a blunder as if, among us, anyone ,vho signed hinlself
'your obedient servant' should be taken literally, and desired
to perform some menial office. If a Spanish gentleman really
means to ask you to dinner, he repeats the invitation a third
tilne; and t/zen he is to be understood literally.
Serious errors may, of course, arise in opposite ways, by not
understanding aright what is and is not to be taken as a nlere
cOml)limentary form.

ESS.A. Y LIll. OF PRAISE.

' p R.AISE is the reflection of virtue) but it is as the glass, 01'
body, which giveth the reflection; if it be froll1 the coro-
lllon people, it is commonly false and naught, l and rather fol-
loweth vain persons than virtuous: for the common people
undcrstand not many excellent virtues: the lowest virtues draw
IH'aise froln thClll, the middle virtues work in them astonishment
or admiration; but of the highest virtues they have no sense or
pcrceiving 2 at all; but shows, and 'species virtutibus similes'3
ser,-e best with them. Certainly', fame is like a river) that
beareth up things light aud swollen, and drowns things weighty
and solid; but if persons of quality and judgment concur, then
it is (as the scripture saith) 'Nomen bonum instal' unguenti
fragrantis ;' oj it fiHeth all round about, and ".ill not easily away;5
for the odours of ointments are more durable than those of
flowers.
There be so many false points of praise, that a lllan may
justly hold it in suspect. 6 Some praises proceed merely of
flattery; and if it be an ordinary flatterer, he will have cer-
tain common attributes, which may ser,Te every man; if he be
a cunning flatterer, he will follow the arch-flatterer, "Thich is a
man's self, and wherein a nlan thillketh best of himself, therein
the flatterer ,vill uphold him most: but if he be an impudent
flatterer, look wherein a man is conscious to himself that he is
most defective, and is most out of countenance in himself, that
will the flatterer entitle him to, perforce, , Spreta conscielltia.'7
Some praises come of good wishes and respects, ,vhich is a form
due in civility to kings and great persons, 'laudando præcipere ;'8
when by telling them what they are, they represent to them

1 X aught. Worthless; despicable. See page 333.
2 l>erceiving. Perception. a Appearances like virtues.
4 'A good name is like a fragrant ointment/-Eccles. vii. I.
S Away. Pass away.
, I have a pain upon my forehead here,
\Vhy that's with watching; 'twill alvay again.' -Shakespere.
6 Suspect. Suspicion. 7 'Despising conscience.'
8 To instruct in prai::iing.

H H 2

4 68

Of Praise.

[Essay liii.

"hat they should be : some men are praised maliciously to their
hurt, thereby to stir envy and jealousy towards then1; 'pessi-
mum genus inin1icorum laudantium;' 1 insomuch as it was a
proyerb amongst the Grecians, that 'He that was praised to his
hurt, should have a push 2 l'ise upon his nose;' as we say, that
a blister will rise upon one's tongue that tells a lie. Certainly
moderate praise, used with opportunity, and not vulgar, is that
'which doeth the good. Solomon saith, 'He that praiseth his
friend aloud, rising early, it shall be to him no better than a
curse.,3 Too much magnifying of n1an or matter doth irritate
contradiction, and procure envy and scorn. To praise a man's
self, cannot be decent, except it be in rare cases; but to praise
a man's office or profession, he may do it with good grace, and
with a kind of magnanimity. The cardinals of Rome, .which
are theologues, 4 and friars, and schoolmen, have a phrase of
notable 5 contempt and scorn towards civil business; for they call
all temporal business of .wars, embassages, judicature, and other
employments, sherrerie, .which is under sheriffries, as if they were
but matters for under-sheriffs and catch-poles; though many
tinles those under-sheriffries do more good than their high
speculations. St. Paul, when he boasts of himself, doth oft
interlace, ' I speak like a fool ;'6 but speaking of his calling, he
saith J 'l\Iagnificabo apostolatum meuln.'7

A:RTITHETA ON PRAISE.

PRO.
f Yirtutis radii reflexi laudes.
'Praises are the reflected rays of
virtue.'

CONTRA.
'Fama deterior judex, quam nunciao
, Common fame is a bad messenger,
but a worse judge.:'

'Laus honor is est, ad quem liberis
suffragiis pervenitur.
'Praise i.y that kind of honor which
is confe'lored by free votes.:'

'Fama veluti fluvins, levia attollit,
solida mergit. .
'Fame, like a river, bears 'lip what is
light, and sinks what is solid/

'Honores diverse a diversis 110litiis

'Infhnarum virtutum apud vulgus

1 , The worst kind of enemies are those who praise/
2 Push. A pustule; a pimple. 3 Proverbs xxvii. 14.
'" Theologue. A theologian; a Di1,ine.
'A Uteologue more by need than genial bent/-Dryden.
5 Notable. Remarkable. 'Aud they had then a notable prisoner.'-Matt.
xxvii. 16.
6 2 Co'r. xi. 23. 7 'I magnify mine office/-Romans xi. 13'

Essay liii.]

Annotations.

4 6 9

confcruntur; seù laudes uùique sunt
1ibertatis.
(Honors are conferred differently
in different governments; but praises,
ez'e,.yw}tere by popular suffrage.'
* * . * *
'X e mircris, si vulgus verius loquatur,
quam honoratiores; quia etiam tutius
loquitur.
, It is no 'wonder that the 'Vulgar some-
times speak more truly tltan a"ose of
high place, because they speak more
safel!J.'

laus <,st, mediarum admiratio, suprema-
rum sensus null us.
, The lozt'est of the l'irtlles tlie 'l'lllgar
praise; the middle ones tltey admire;
of the ltighest tltey have no perception.'

ANNOTATIO:XS.

, Tile common people understand not rnany excellent vittues: tile
lowest virtues draw praise from tllenz, the 'Jniddle virtues
'ioork in then
astonishment or adJìllratiou, but of the highest
't'iriues they have no sense or perceiving at all.'

""'hat a pregnant remark is this! By the lo'west of the
,.irtues he means probably such as hospitality, liberality, grati-
tude, good-humoured courtesy, and the like; and these he say-s
the common run of mankind are accustomed to praise. Those
which they adnlÏre, such as daring courage, and firm fidelity to
friends, or to the cause or party one has espoused, are "hat he
ranks in the next highest place. But the Inost ele\'ated virtues
of all, such as disinter{'sted and devoted public spirit, thorough-
going even-handed justice, and disregard of unpopularity when
duty requires, of these he says the vulgar have usually no notion.
Aud he might have gone further; for it often happens that a
large portion of nlankind not only do not praise or admire the
highest qualities, but even censure and despise them. Cases
may occur in which, though you may obtain the high approba-
tion of a very few pcrsons of the most refincd and exalted moral
scntinlellÌs, you nlust be prepared to find the Inajority (even of
such as are not altogether bad men) condemning you as un-
natural, unkind, faithless, and not to be depended on; or
deriding you as eccentric, crotchetJT, fanciful, or absurdly scru-
pulous.
And this is tl1e more likely to occur, because there are many

47 0

Of Praise.

[Essay liii.

cases in ,,'hich the same conduct may result eitlte?", froln the very
highest Dloti ve, or froin a base one; and then, those of the
noblest character, and ,vho are also cautious and intelligent,
",'ill judge from your general conduct and character which moti"e
to assign; ,vhile those who are themselves strangers to the
highest principle, will at once attribute your acts to the basest.
For example, if you shrink from some daring or troublesome
undertaking which is also unjustifiable, this may be either fron1
co"
ardice or indolence, or from scruI)ulous integrity; and the
'worse moth-e 'will be at once assigned by those ,vho have no
notion of the better. If you are tolerant in religion, this ulay
be either from utter carelessness, like Gallio's, or from a per-
ception of the true character of the Gospel: and those 'who want
this latter, 'will be sure to attribute to you at once the other.
If you decline supporting a countryman against foreigners when
they have right on their side, or a friend against a stranger,
this
nay be either from indifference to your country, or your
friend, or from a strong love of justice; and those ,vho haye
but din1 vic,,'s of justice will at once set you down as unpatriotic
or unfriendly. And so in many other cases.
If, accordingly, you refuse to defenà, or to deny, or to
palliate the faults of those engaged in a good cau
e, and if

ou are ready to bear testimony to whateyer there lllay he
that is right on the opposite side, you will be regarded by
111any as treacherous, or lnke,yarm, or inconsistent. If you
advocate toleration for an erroneous faith, and protest against
forcing, or entrapping, or bribing any persons into the profes-
sion of a true one, InallY ,yill consider you as yourself either
tainted with error, or indifferent ahout religious truth. If,
again, you consider a seat in Parliament, or any other place

"ou n1ay OCCU!)y, or the power of appointing another to such a
place, as a sacred trust for the public seryice, and, therefore,
requiring ßometimcs the sacrifice of priyate friendship,-if you
do justice to an opponent against a friend, or to a ,,'orse 111an
(,,"hen he happens to ha,'e right on his side) against a bettcr,-
if rou refuse to support your friends, or those you 11aye been
accustolllCd to act with, or those to whom you have a personal
obligation, when they are about doing sonlething that is wrong,
-if you decline making application in behalf of a frit'ncl to
those who ,vould expect you to place

our yotes and intercst

Es
ay liii.]

Annotations.

47 1

at thcir ùi:sposal, whether your own judgment approvcd of their
nlcasurcs or not,-in thcse and other such cases, you will be
pcrhaps more blalned or dcspised by the generalitr, than com-
nlcndcd or admired. For, partY-lncn "ill usually pardon a
zealous advocate of their party for InallY great faults, more
rcadily than they will pardon the virtue of standing quite aloof
frolll party, and doing strict justice to all. It .will often
happcn, therefore, that .when a lnan of very great rcal excellence
does acquire great and general esteem, four-fifths of this will
ha\ye been bestowed on the minor yirtnes of his character; and
four-fifths of his admirers will ha\?e either quite overlooked the
most truly adn1Ìrable of his qualities, or else regarded them as
pardonable .weaknesses.
y ou
hould guard, then, against the opposite dangers of
either lowering your own moral standard to the leyel of SOlne
of your neighbours, or judging too hardly of t!leul. Your
general practical rule should be, to expect more of YOllrse{f than
of otheì'S. Of coursc it is not nleant that a nlan is to think
oyer-highly of hÏ111self and ( despise others.' II e is not to think
his conduct hetter than others, only his capabilities. A nlan
who feels himself capable of generous and exalted conduct (I
do not ltlCan, feel::; that he shall always act thus,-for "ho
dares pronli
e hinlself this r-hut who feels that it is not
ùeyond his conception, or unnatural to him), when he measures
others by his own standard, and is disappointed with them,
will re111ember that eyery man shall be judged' according to
that he hath, and not according to that he hath not.' lIe will
feel that 11101'C is required of hinl, as being placed in a higher
.walk of duty, and will thus be even the less satisfied .with his
conforlnity to so lofty a standard. But though his frequent
failure'5 will lnunble hiln, yet as a fair and due
ense of dignity,
which arise's froll1 a consciousne5s of superior station, i:::; not
only right, but needful, in a gentleman, a pcer, or a king, to
lnake thenl fill thcir stations gracefully; so it is here: that
propcr scnse of his o-wn lnoral dignity, is necessary for a great
and generons di
po5ition, if he would act up to his character.
rfhe eÅcess thereof will be checked by habits of true piety,
which cannot but lllake him feel his own littleness in the
strollgest lnanner; and by continually asking binlself ( 'Yho
nlade thee to differ from anothcr?' or, ('Yhat hast thou that

47 2

Of Praise.

[Essay liii.

thou dic1st not receive?' he will be guarded against despising
his illferiors. For, generous and ungenerous pride are not only
different (as all 'would allo,v), but, in most points, opposite:
a man of the former character makes allo-wances for others
which he 1vill not make for himself; the latter, aìlo,vances for
himsel
which he ,vill not for others: he is ready enough to
think that this, and that, is not good enough for him; but the
other thinks a base action not good enough for hinl, and does
not regard his superiority as a priyilege to act in a manner
,vhich, in his view, ,voult! degrade him from it; and ,vhile doing
the most generous actions himself, as things of course, he lrill
make the readiest allo,vance for others' deficiencies. fIe will
do good ,vithout calculating upon much gratitude; yet ,vill ùe
grateful, with most generous ardour, himself. To take any
unfair advantages, or even to take all fair ones-to press his
rights to the utmost-to press close to the limits of 'what is
wrong, and anxiously consider whether he may be allolved to
do this, or omit that,-he disdains, and ,vould feel degraded by
it. Of the virtues of such a man as this, the yulgar have
indeed no perception.
He that assails error bccause it is error, without respect of
persons, must be prepared for a storm from the party who were
fanning him with the gentle breath of praise, so long as he
had been dealing with the errors of the party opposed to therü.
They say with the rat (in a ludicrous poem, on a house much
infested with rats, into which a cat had been brought),-

Said the other, (This cat, if she murder a rat,
Must needs be a very great sinner,
But to feed upon mice can't be counted a vice;
I myself like a mouse for my dil'ner.'

, 1'here are so many false points of praise.'

That censure and cOffinlendation should in so many instances
be indiscriminate, can surprise no one who recollccts hOlY rare
a quality discrimination is, and how much better it suits indo-
lence, as well as ignorance, to lay down a rule than to ascertain
the exceptions to it.

E
say liii.]

Annotations.

4ï3

, Sonle praises come of good wishes.'

The word' macarize' has bcen adopted by Oxford men who
arc fanlÏliar 1\ ith ...\.ristotle, to supply a 1\ y ord wanting in our
languagc. ' Fclicitate' and 'congratulate' are in actual usage
confined to events. A man is congratulated on his Inarriage,
but not on haying a good wife. And sometimes 'I envy you'
is used, "hen it is understood that there is no envy in the bad
(which is the proper) sense. I believ'e the French
on1etimcs
say , J e vous en fais nles compliments.' It Inay he
aid that
nlen are admired for what they are, commended for what they
do, and macarized for what they have.
Of the' praises that con1e of good wishes,' none have such
influence as the daily droppings of dOlnestic flattery-to use the
word in the sense of undue praise merely. Laudal'i a laudato
'L.iro is what everyone would prize most; but other praises may
make up in talc what they want in weight.

'Certainly Inoderate praise, used with opporl1 nity, and not
vulgar, is that which doetlt the good.'

It is worth rcmarking that praise is one of the things which
alrnost everyone must wish for, and be glad of, yet" hich it is
not allowable to seek for as an end. To obtain the approbation
of the wise and good, by doing what is right, :;inlply because it
is right, i:5 most gratifying to the natural and allowable wish to
escape the censure and claim the approval of our fello"T
creatures; but to nlake this gratification, either wholly or
partlr our object-to hold up a finger on purpose to gain the
applause of thp whole ".orId, is unjustifiahle.
A well-known writer acknowledged his haying said what he
did fl'oln (a wish to be orthodox.' Kow, such a wisÌt-nlerely
as a wish-is quite natural and allowable; for alnlost cyeryone
.would prefcr bcing on the side of the majority; and this will of
course be, by the nlajority, accountcd orthodoxy. But he eyi-
dently nleant that he was jJractically illfll1enced by the .wish,-
that he acted 'lvitlt a view to the reputation for orthodoxy, and
did not mcrely welcome it if it came 8pontaneous]y while he

474

OJ Praise.

[Essay liii.

,vas aiming simply at truth. And accordingly he 11ad his
reward, in becoming a great party-leader, and he abandollcd
truth.
'No man can ser\Te t,yO masters,' not because they are nc-
cessarily at variance, but because they are two, and do not
necessal'ily draw the same way. Even \yorldly profit (:ì\Iammon)
\vill often be secured by the same conduct as \vould be dictated
by a regard for divine favour; for' honesty is in general the
best l)olicy.' But sometÙnes the t,yO "will pull different ,,-ays;
and then it is that it will appeal' which master a man is serying.
rrhe desire of truth must reign suprerne, and cver),thing else be
,velcomed only if coming in her train.
Deference for the (supposed) wise and good, and love of
approbation, are two very distinct things, though in practice
very difficult to be distinguished. The former may be felt to-
,vards those whom ,ve never can meet with,-,vho l)erhaps ",ere
dead ages before we were born, and surviye only in their
,vritings. It may be misplaced, or excessive; but it is quite
different from the desire of their applause or sympathy, or dread
of their displeasure or contempt. A man's desire to find him-
self in agreement with Aristotle, or Bacon, or Locke, or Paley,
. &c., \vhether reasonable or unreasonable, can have nothing to
do with their approbation of ltÍ7n. But when we are glad to
concur ,vith SOlne liying friends, .whom 'f"e think highly of, and
drearl to differ from, then it is very difficult to decide ho\v far
this feeling is the jJ,'esumption lonned by OU1. judgnlent in fa\.our
of the correctness of their yiews; and how far it is the desire
of their approbation and sympathy, and dread of the re\'ersc.
It is the desire of personal approbation, the excessive care con-
cerning what is thought of ourselves-, that we are bound so
severely to check.
There is a di stinction (alluded to aboye) bebycen the 10\Te of
adn1Íration, and the love of conlmelHlation, that is worth re-
marking. The tendency of the love of conll11endation is to
l11ake a Ulan exert hinlself; of the love of adl11iration, to nlake
him pl
U' himself. The love of adn1Íratioll leads to fraud, much
more than the love of cOl11nlendation; but, on the other hand,
the latter is n1uch more likely to
poil our good actions br the
substitution of an inferior llloti\.e. And if we would guard

Essay liii.J

A/lnotation,9.

475

against this, we nlust ::;et ourselves resolutely to act as if we
cared neithpl' for praise nor ccnsure, for either the hitter or the
sweet; and in tÍ1ue, a man gets hardened. And this will
always be the case, nlore or less, through God's help, if we will
but pcrseycre, and persevere fro,n a rigId IIlotive. One gets
hardcned, as the Canadians do to ,valking in sno'v shocs (raquets);
at first a nlan is ahnost crippled with the' mal au raquet'-
the pain and swelling of the feet; but the prescription is, to
go on ,yalking in them, as if you felt nothing at all; and in a
fcw days you do feel nothing.
1\1 uch eloquence and ingenuity is often exerted, in descanting
on the propriety of not being wholly indifferent to the opinions
farrned of us-the impossibility of eradicating the regard for
approbation-and the folly of attelllpting it, or pretending to
it, &c. N O'V, this is very true; the propensity to desire to gain
approval and escape censure, ,ye are not called upon to extir-
pate (that being, I conceiye, impossible); but our care and
pains are better bestowed in keeping under the feeling than
in vindicating it. It must be treated like the grass on a
lawn ",hich you wish to keep in good order: you neither
attelnpt, nor wish, to destroy the grass j but you 'mow it down
fr0111 time to time, as close as you possibly can, well trusting
that there will be quite enough left, and that it will be sure to
grow agaIn.
Ofle difficulty in acting upon this principle is, that it is often
eyen a duty to seek the good opinion of others, not as an
ultimate object for its own sake, but for the sake of influencing
them for their o-wn benefit, and that of others. ' Let your
light so shine before men, that they nlay see your good works,
and glorify your Father which is in hcaven.' But we are to
watch and analyse the motives even of actions which we are
sure are in thelnseh-es right. 'Take heed that yc do not
yonr ahns before m2nJ to be seen of thelu.' ..And this is
a kind of yigilance, ,,-hich human nature is always struggling
to c:,capc. One cla
s of men arc satisfied so long as they
do what is justifiable ;-what IIlay be (
onc from a gooù nloti\ge,
and, when so done, would bc right, and which therefore 111ay
l)c satisfactorily defended. Another class-tIle a
c('tic-are
for cutting off e\-erything that may be a snare. They have

47 6

Of Praise.

[Essay !iii.

heard of 'the deceitfulness of riches,' and so they vow poverty;
which is less trouble than watching their 'Inotives in gaining,
and in spending, money. And 80 on with the rest. But if
we ,vould cut off all temptations, we must cut off our heads at
once.
The praise of men is not the test of OtIT praiseworthiness;
nor is their censure; but either should set us upon testing our.
selves.

ESS.A.Y I.JIV. OF VAIN GLORY.

I T ,vas prettily devised of Æsop, the fly sat upon the axle-
tree of the chariot wheel, and said, ,"That a dust do I raise !'
So are there SOlne vain persons, that, ,vhatsoever goeth alone,
or moveth upon greater means, if they have never so little hand
in it, they think it is they that carry it. They that are
glorious 1 must needs be factious; for all bravery2 stands upon
conlparisons. They must needs be violent to make good their
own vaunts; neither can they be secret, and therefore not
effcctual; but, according to the French pro\Terb, 'beaucoZlp de
bj.uil, peu de frllit' -nlueh bruit/ litt1e fruit. Yet certainly,
there is use of this quality in civil affairs: where there is an
opinion aud fame to be created, either of virtue or greatness,
these men are good trumpeters. Again, as Titus Lh-ius 4 noteth,
in the case of Alltioehus and the iEtolians, there are sonletinles
great effects of 5 cross lies, as if a Inan that negotiates between
two princes, to draw thenl to join in a war against a third, cloth
extol the forces of either of them above measure, the one to
the other: and sometimes he that deals between man and
man raiseth his 0" 11 credit with both, by pretending greater
interest than he hath in either; and in these, and the like
kinds, it often falls out, that somewhat is produced of nothing;
for lies are sufficient to breed opinion, and opinion brings on
substance.
In military commanders
sential point; for as iron
courage sharpeneth another.

and soldiers, vain glory is an es-
sharpens iron, so by glory6 one
In cases of great enterprise upon 7

1 Glorious. Boastful. See page 4 2 5.
2 JJraver)T. Ostentation. See page 35 1 .
3 Bruit. Noise; report. (This proverb has its parallel in the English one,
( Great cry and little woo1.') (All that bear the bruit ofthee.'-.iYanum iii. 19,
4 Vide Lit,. x
xvii. 4 8 . 5 Of. From. See page 23i.
6 Glory. Tr azen tillg; boastfulness. (I will punish the glorg of his high looks.'
-Isaiah x.

(On death-beds some in conscious glory lie,
Since of the doctor in the mode the) die.'-I-oU1l9.
7 Upon. A.t. See page 33 2 .

47 8

OJ JTain, Glory.

[Essay Ii,T.

charge and ad,-renture,1 a composition of glorious natures doth
put life into business; and those that are of solid and sober
natures, have more of the ballast than of the sail. In fame of
learning, the flight will be slow "rithout some feathers of osten-
tation: 'Qui de contemnenda gloria libros scribunt, nomen
suum inscribunt.'2 Socrates, Aristotle, Galen, were men full
of ostentation: certainly vain glory helpeth to perpetuate a
n1an's memory; and yirtue was never so beholden 3 to human
nature, as 4 it received its due at the second hand. N either had
the fame of Cicero, Seneca, Plinius Seculldus, borne her age so
,,-ell if it had not been joined with some vanity in themsel,-res,
like unto varnish, that makes ceilings not only shine, but last.
But an this while, when I speak of vain glory, I mean not of
that property that Tacitus doth attrihute to
Iucianus, (Om-
nium, quæ dixerat feceratque, arte quadam ostentator:' 5 for
that proceeds not of vanity, but of natural magnanimity and
discretion; and in some persons it is not only comely, but
gracious: 6 for excusations,7 cessions, 8 modesty itself, 'well go-
verned, are but arts of ostentation; and amongst those arts
there is none better than that which Plinius Secundus speaketh
of, which is, to be liberal of praise and commendation to others,
in that ,vherein a man's self hath any perfection; for, saith
Pliny, very wittingly, (In comlnending another, you do yourself
right ;'9 for he that you commend is either superior to you in
that 10 you commend, or inferior; if he be inferior, if he be to
be commended, you much more; if he be superior, if he be not

1 Charge and adventure. Cost and risk. (That I may make the gospel of
Christ without charge/-I Cor. ix. 18. (One castle yielded; but two stood on
their adventure/-Hayward.
2 (Those who write books on despising glory inscribe their names therein.'-
Cicero, Tusc. Disp. i. 15.
3 Beholden. Indebted.
( 'Ye are not much beholden to your love.' -Sltakespere.
4 As. That. See page 22.
5 (By a certain art he made a display of all he had said or done.'-Hist. xi. 80.
6 Gracious. Grq,ceful. See page 395,
i Excusation. Excuse; apology.
( He made his excusation,
And feigneth cause of pure dI"ede.'-Sllake.speJ"{!. (Gower.)
S Cessions. Concessions.
9 Plin. Epist. vi. 17.
10 That. 1T7wt. See page 59.

Essay Ii,..]

OJ rY"ain Glory.

4i9

to be comn1cl1dcd, you much lc
s. ,rain glorious n1en are the
scorn of wise Blcn, the adn1Íration of fools, the idols of parasites,
and the slarcs of thcir own yaunts.

AXTITHET
\. ON V AIX GLORY.

PRO.
'Qui snas lnudes appetit, aliorum

imnl appetit utilitatcs.
'.lIe wlw earnestly seeks glory for
/lÌmself, is seeking, at the same time,
tlte ll"elfare of others.'

COXTRA.
*' *' *' *' *
'Turpe est proco solicitare ancillam :
est autcm virtutis ancilla Ians.
, It is di.sgraceflll for a 'it'ooer to pa!1
court to the ltandmaicl: now gio?'!! i.r
tlte ltatldmaid of ?:irtue/

ESSAY LV. OF IIO
OUR AND REPUTATIOX.

T HE 'winning of honour is but the reyealing of a man's virtue
and worth ,,-ithout disadvantage; for some in their actions
do "TOO and affect 1 honour and reputation-.which sort of men
are commonly much talked of, but inwardly little admired-
and some cOl1trariwise/ darken their virtue in the show of it, so
as they be undervalued in ol)inion. If a man perform that
,vhich hath not been attempted before, or attempted and given
over, or hath been achieved, but not ,vith 80 good circumstance,a
he shall purchase lllore honour than by effecting a matter of
greater difficulty, or virtue, wherein he is but a follower. If a
lllan so ten1per his actions, as 4 in some one of them he doth
content every faction or combination of people, the music ,vill
be the fuller. A man is an ill husband 5 of his honour that
entereth into any action, the failing "'herein may disgrace him
more than the carrying of it through can honour him. IIonour
that is gained anù broken upon another 6 hath the quickest
reflection, like diamonds cut "\tith fascets; and, therefore, let a
man contend to excel any c01TII)etitors of his honour, in out-
shooting them if he can, in. their own bow. Discreet followers
and servants help much to reputation: (Omnis fama a domes-
ticis emanat.'7 Envy, ,vhich is the canker of hOllOlU", is best
extinguished 8 by declaring a man's self in his ends, rather to

1 Affect. To desire earnestl.1J; to aim at. See page I.
2 Contrariwise. On the contrmy. See page 77"
3 Circumstance. Adjuncts.
'The pomp and circuJ1zstance of glorious war.'-Shakespere.
4 As. That. See page 22.
5 Husband. An economist.
, You have scarce time
To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span,
To keep
.our earthly audit; sure, in that
I deem
TOU an ill kusband.'-Shakespere.
6 'Gain{>d and broken upon another.' The Latin essay lias, 'Honor qui COl11-
parativus est, et alium prægravat.' 'TVeighs down or depresses otllers.'
7 'All fame emanates from domesticg.'-Q. Cic. de Petit. Consul. v. 17.
8 l\Iost editions have 'distinguished' instead of 'extinguislled.' But the Latin
essay has' extiilguitU'ì'.'

Essay Iv.]

OJ Honour and Rt!putatioll.

4 81

scek Incrit than fal
1e: aud hy attributing a n1an's successes
rather to cli,.ine Providence and felicity, than to his owlT
virtue or policy. The true marshalling of the degrees of
so,pereign honour are these: in the first place are ( conditores
Ünpcriorum,' founders of States and commonwealths; such as
were ltomulus, Cyrus, Cæsar, Ottoman, Ismacl: in the second
place are' legislatores,' lawgi,'crs; which are abo called second
founders, or 'perpetui pl'incipes,' 1 because they govern by their
orùinances after they are gone: such were Lycurgus, Solon,
J u:stinian, Edgar, Alphollsus of Ca
tile, the ,vise, that made the
(Siete partidas :'
in third place are 'liheratores,' or 'sal ,.a-
tores ;'3 such as compound-l the long Iniseries of civil 'val'S, or
deliver their countries fronl sCl','itude of strangers or tyrants; as
Augustus Cæsar, V e
pa
ianus, .A.urcliúnus, rrheodoricus, I(ing
IIenry the Se"cllth of England, ICing IIenry the Fourth of
}--'rance: in the fourth place are ( propagatores,' or 'propugna-
tores imperii,'5 such as in honourable wars enlarge their terri..
tories, or make noble defence against in ,-aders: and in the last
place, are' patres patriæ,'6 which reign justly, aud nlake the
times good wherein they li,-e; ùoth which last kinds need
no exalnples, they are in such llulnher. Degrees of honour in
subjects, are, first, 'participes curarum,J] those upon wholn
princes do di:,charge the greatest weight of their affairs; their
right hands, as we may call thenl: the ncxt are' duces belli,'s
great leaders; such as are princcs' lieutenauts, and do thenl
1l0table 9 services in the wars: the third are' grati03i,' fayouritcs;
such a-.; exceed not this scantling/ J to be ::501
ce to the sovereign,
and harlllle:ss to the people: and the fourth, 'ncgotiis pares;' 11

1 'Perpetual rulers.'
2 The Siete Partidas. All. ancient Spanish code of [au."s, divided into se,'en
parts; hence its name.
3 'Liberators or preservers.'
4 Compounù. To put all. end to by adjustment of differences.
'I would to God all strifes were well compounded.'-Shalcespere.
, 'VIto should compound the contrO\"ersies ?'- TVhitgift.
6 'Extenders or defenùer
of the empire.' 6 '}"atIters of their country.'
7 'Participators in cares.' 8 'Leaùers in wars.'
9 Notable. Remarkable. See pagè 4 68 .
10 Scantling. A small pmportion. 'In this narrow scantling of capacity we
enjoy but one pleasure at once.'-Loclce. 'A scantling of wit lay gasping for life,
and groaning beneath a heap of rubbish.'-Dryden.
11 'Equal to the management of affairs.'
I I

4 82

Of Hvno'll'ì. and Reputation.

[Essay Iv.

such as haye great places under princes, and execute their
places ,,-ith sufficiency.l There is an honour, likewise, which
may be ranked anlongst the gl'eatest, which happeneth rarely;
that is, of such as sacrifice themselves
to death or danger for
the good of their country; as was
r. Regulus, and the two
Decii.

AN:KOTA'rroxs.

Bacon does not ad vert to the circumstance, that one man
often gets the credit which is due to another; one being the
ostensible and another principally the real author of something
l'emarliahlc; according to the proverb that 'little dogs find the
harp, but the big ones catch it.' And sometimes, again, the
thing itself that is the most difficult and the most important
will be overlooked, while much admiration is besto,yed on
sOlnething else ,,,hich ,vas an easy, natural, and ahllost ineyit-
aùle result of it.
There cannot be a more striking example of this than the
yast importance attached to the invention of printing, and the
controyersies as to .who was the ÍlnTentor; when, in fact, it 'Was
the inyention of a cheap paper that was the really irnportallt
step, and ,,,hich could not but be speedily followed by the use
of printing. I say the use, because, when introdnced, it could
hardly he called a ne,v Ï1n"ention. The loayes of bread found
at Ponlpeii and Herculaneum 'were stanlped ,yith the baker's
name. And, in fact, the seals llsed by the ancients were a
stamp of the name, which ,yas .wetted with ink, and impressed
on the parchment; so that s-igning and sealing were one and
the same. N ow all this is, substantially, of the character of
printing. 'Yhether we used fixed types, like the Chinese, or
n10\-eable, is a mere matter of detail.
But the only cause .why this "as not applied by the ancients
to ùooks, handbills, &c., ,,-as the costliuess of 113pyrus and

1 Sufficiency. Abilil1/. See page 24 2 .
2 Sacrifice themselves: lJel)ote tl1,emselres.

E
say Iv.]

Annotations.

4 8 3

l)archment. This limitcd the sale to so small a nUlnber of
copics, that printing ,yould have cost more than transcribing.
As soon as a cheap 'Jllaterial for books was invented, it was
likely to occur, and probably did occur, to Inany, that a lower
price, and a wider sale, would be secured by some kind of
stamp.
Then, as to the real performers of some great feat, or ori-
ginators of some measure or institution, history would furnish
Inany instances of nlÏstakes that have prey ailed. A poem has
COllle down to us celebrating Harmodius and Aristogeiton as
lwxing slain the tyrant of Athens, and restored liberty to their
country. And Thucydide
, who lived anlong the grandchildren
of those who renlenlhered the transaction, complains that such
,vas the prcyalent belief in his own day; though Ilipparchus,
whom those lnen assassinated, was not the tyrant, but was
brother of IIippias, the actual
overeign, and who 'continued to
reign sonle J ears longer.
In our own day, three of the most important measures were
brought about, ostensibly, by ministers who, so far froln being
the real authors of them, "ere, in their own judgment and
inclination, decidedly opposed to thenl-the repeal of the
Roman Catholic disabilities, the abolition of sla,"ery, and
the introduction of free trade in corn. The ministries of
the Duke of "... ellington and Sir Robert Peel are well known
to haye been hostile to what ,vas called Ronlall Catholic
enlancipation, and aùyocates of the corn laws, and to haye
been driyell by necessity to take the :,teps they did. Yet it
is possible that they may go down to posterity as the authors
of those two great changes. It is not so generally known that
Lord )Ielhourne, then premier, on going out of the Ilouse of
Lords on the night that the Bill passed for alJolishing slavery,
remarked to an acquaintance that if he could ha'"e had his own
way in that matter, he would haye left it quite alone.
I t is remarkable that Bacon has said nothing about nlen's
soliciturle concerning posthulIlolls reputation,-that delusion of
the Í111agination (for it surcly is such) of .which there is perhaps
no one quite destitute,-and which is often found peculiarly
strong ill those who disbelieve a Future State, and deride the
believers. Yet granting that the
e latter are mistaken, and are
only grasping at a shadow, still they are hoping for what tlu:y
I I 2

4 B 4

Of Honour and Reputation.

[Essay Iv.

at least believe to be real. They expect-,vhether erroneously
or not-to have an actual consciousness of the enjoyment they
look forward to. The others are (l'ware that, when they shall
have attained the prize of posthumous glory, they shall have no
perce})tion of it. They know that it is a shade they are grasp-
ing at. Yet H ume had this solicitude about his posthumous
fame. (I(no,ving,' says the Edinburgh Revitu', l 'from Pope
,,-hat is meant by a ruling passion, it is a poor thing to set it
on the die of literary fame. In one way, he made the most of
it; for his prescience of his growing reputation certainly soothed
l1im in his last illness. This ,vas sOlnething'; but it is
urely
singular. Delusion for delusion, the rnanes lahulague of another
.world are at least an improvement on the after life of post-
hUIIlOUS rcno-wn. Ilnmortality on earth fades away before the
light of immortality in a future state. On the other hand,
what is to be said but vanity of yanities! ,vhen a I)hilo
opher
who has no expectation of a future state, and ,vho is contenl-
p]ating annihilation ,,
ith complacency, is found, notwithstand-
ing this, busied on his death-bed about his posthUTIlOUS fame?
-careful ,,-hat men may be saying of his essays and his
histories, after he himself is sleeping in the grave, where all
things are forgotten !'

'. . . lVlticlt sort of men are conunonly rnuch lalked of'

'A sort of man' that is not only much talked of, but com-
monly adlnired, is a n1all .who, along with a considerable degree
of cleycruess and plausible fluency, is "rhat is called puzzle-
headed :-destitute of sound, clear, cautious judgn1ent. This
puzzle-headedness conduces much to a very sudden and rapid
rise to a (short-liyed) celebrity.
Such 'vas the description once given of an author, ,yho "ras
at that tÍ111e more talked about than almost any indi\'4dual in
the en1pire, and whom many adn1ired as a surlJassing genius,
who had fully confuted the doctrines of
Ialthus, and nlade pro-
digious discoveries in political science. One of the company
took up the speaker very sharply; observing that it was strange
to speak disparagingly of a man who, without wealth, birth, or

1 See an article on David Hume, Edinburfih Review, 1\0. clxxi, January, 18 47.

Essay h-.]

Annotations.

4 8 5

high connections, had so very 'rapidly acquired great celcbrity.
The othcr rcplied by making the ohscrvation just above gi'Tcn.
For, men do not,
aid he, givc up thcir prejudices, and adopt
ncw vicws, ,"cry readily; and consequently, one who rcfutes pre..
,.ailing errors, and brings to light Hew or forgottcn trut h
, will
.at fir:st, and for a good while, fiud favour with but few. IIc- will
thercfore have to wait (as was the case with :ì\Ia1thns) many
years, allet pcrhaps to his life's end, before he is appreciated.
His creùit will he lasting, hut. slow of growth. But the way to
rise to sudden popularity, is to be a plausible adyocate of pre-
vailing doctrines, and to defend, with SOlne appearance of origi-
nality, sonlcthing which 111en like to believe, but have no good
reason for hclieving.
Now. this will never be done so well hy the Inost skilful dis-
sembler, as by one ,vho is himself the sincere dupe of his own
fallacies, and brings thcln fonvard accol'diugly with an air of
sin1ple earllc
tness. And this ilnplies his being-with whatever
ingenuity and eloquence-puzzle-headed.
rrhere seemed to the company to he something in this; but
they were as loth to adn1Ït it, as (according to the remark
just above) Inen usually are in such a matter. "Yhat do yon
say,' they rcplied, 'to
Ir. Pitt? fIe was an admired statesman
at the agc of twenty-three; and was he a puzzle-headed n1an?'
, 'Yhy, not gellt:/'ally such,' was the answer; 'but he was such
in rcfcrcnce to tlte particular point which 1l1alnly contributed to
obtain lâ,,
that ,"ery early and speedy popularity. Look at the
portraits of him at that tinlc, and you will see a paper in his
llalld, or on his table, inscribed 'Sinking Fund.' It was his
eloquent advocacy of that delusion (as all, nnw, admit it to have
lJeell) which brought hÜn such sudden rcnown. And he could
not have so ably recommendcd-nor indeed would he probably
have adoptcd-that juggle of Dr. Price's, if he had not been him-
self the dupe of hib fallacy; as Lord Grenville also" as; who
afterward
published a pall1phlet in which he frankly exposed
the dclusion.'
This could not be denied to bc a confirmation of the parado
.
.A.nd then another case,-the converse of the above-was adduced
on the salne
ide: a ca
e in which the whole British nation were,
in one particular, manifestly puzzle-headed, except one man:
,,110 was accordingly derided by all. In the dispute between

4 86

Of lIonour and Reputation.

[Essay Iv.

Great Britain and her American colonies, though there were
great differences of opinion-some being for, anù others against
-taxing them; SOlne for force and some for conciliation-all
agreed that the loss of them-the disulemherment of the Elnpire
-,vould he a heavy calau1ity; and how to keep tltelJt wa'g the
problelll to be solyed. But Dean Tucker, standing quite alone,
wrote a pamphlet to show that the separation ,yould he NO 108s
at all, and that we had best giye them the independence they
coveted, at once, and in a friendly way.
Some thought he was writing in jest, the rest ùesl)ised him
as too absurd to be worth answering.
But no,v (and for above half a century) everyone admits
that he was quite right, and regrets that his view was Hot
adopted.
lIe might well have used the description of 'fhucydides
applied to his own \york; KTlJ!lU fÇ aH !taÀÀO}1, lJ a-Y(J)VHJ!ta H;
TO 7rapaXPlJ!ta aKOUHV,
uì'KHTal.1
By the bye, it is rClnarkable that Professor Smyth, who giyes
him due praise for this yie,v, remarks, at the sanle time, on his
strange absurdity in saying, that it would be very easy (though
not at all worth ,vhilc) to subùue the AUlerican insurgents; and
that a hastily raised, disorderly militia could have no chance
against a well disciplined and well commanded regulal' army.
But from the doculllents brought forward in an adnlirable
article in the Edinburgh Review (January, 1846), on European
and American State Confederacies, it appears that Dean Tucker
,vas right there also-thnt the galne was in our hands, and
'Vashington reduced to the brink of despair, and that nothing
would have saved his cause, but such a series of blundering
foUies on the part of the British comlnanders, as never occul'red
before or since, and such as no one would ha'"e calculated 011.
Of all the clever men then that at that tinle existed, and
many of ,vhom spoke eloquently on each side, Tucker was the
only one "rho was not puzzle-headed. And he obtained some
small share of late credit, but present contempt.
A very clear-headed ll1an will always have detected some
popular fallacies, and perceived SOlne truths generally overlooked;

1 It is composed so as to be regarded as a possession for ever, rather than as a
prize declamation, intended only for the present.

Essay h o .]

Annotations.

4 8 7

and, in short, will always be somewhat in advance of the common
rnn of his contenlporaries. ...\.nd if hc has the courage to speak
out all these points, he lllust wait till the ne
t generation for
the chief part at least of his popularity. 'rilc faOIe of cle,'cr
but puzzle-headed advocates of yulgar errors, will spring up like
a mushroom in a night, which rots in a day. His will bc a
tree, '::5eris factura nepotibus unlbram.'
The author in question furnished a striking confirmation of
the paradox. In two or three ycars he and his book ,,-ere
totally forgotten. lIe hinlself outli,.ed, by a good many years,
his own nlushroom celebrity. He went oft
like a comet into its
aphelion, and became in\"i
ible. It would be difficult to find a
copy of his works, except at the trunk-maker's. Aud the pro-
phecy concerning him, in the cOllyersation aboye recorded, is
probably forgotten also by those ,,-ho took part in it. ' Ipsæ
periere ruinæ.'
'fhe truth is, that what people in general most readily and
most cordially approve, is the echo of their own sentiments; and
'whateyer effect this nlay produce must be short-lived. 'Ye hear
of volcanic islands thrown up in a few days to a formidable size,
and, in a few weeks or mouths, sinking down again or "ashed
away; while other islands, which are the sUlnmits of banks
co"ered with weed and drift sand, continue slowly increasing
year after year, century after century. The man that is in a
hurry to see the full effect of his own tillage, should cultivate
annuals, and not forest trees. The clear-headed lo,.er of truth is
content to wait for the result of his. If he is wrong in the doc-
trines he maintains, or the measures he proposes, at least it is not
for the sake of imnlcdiate popularity. If he is right, it ,,;11 be
found out in time, though, perhaps, not ill his time. The pre-
parers of the IIlum7nies were (IIerodotus says) dri,-en out of the
house by the family who had engaged their services, with execra.
tions and stones; hut their work remains sound after three
thousand )'cars.

ESSAY L'T1. OF JUDICArrURE.

J UDGES ought to remember that their office is jus dicere, and
not' jus dare'-to interpret la\r, and not to make law., or
give law-else will it be like the authority claÏ1ned hy the
church of Rome, which, under prptext of exposition of Scrip-
ture, doth not stick I to add and alter, and to pronounce that
which they do not find, and ùy sho,v of antiquity to introduce
noyelty. - Judges ought to be more learned than \vitty, more
reverend than plausible, and more ach'ised than confident.
Aboye all things, integrity is their I)ortioll and proper yirtue.
'Cursed (saith the law) is he that removeth the lalldnlark.'2
The mislayer of a luere stone is to blame; but it is the unjust
judge that is the capital renlover of landmarks, when he de-
fineth amiss of land and property. One foul sentence doth
more hurt than many foul examples; for these do but corrupt
the stream, the other corrupteth the fountain-so saith Solomon,
, FOIls turbatus, et yena corrupta est jUf'tus cadens in causa sua
coranl adversario.'3
The office of judgcs may have a reference unto the parties that
sue, unto the advocates that plead, unto clerks and n1Ïnisters of
justice underneath theln,and to the so\'ereign or State above then1.
First, for the causes of parties that sue. rrllere be (saith
the Scripture) 'that turn judgment into 'wormwood;14 and
surely there be also that turn it into yinegar; for injustice
maketh it bitter, and delays make it sour. The principal
duty of a judge is to supprcss force and fraud, whereof force is
the nlore pernicious .when it is open, and fraud whcn it is close
and disguised. Add thereto contentious suits, which ought to
ùe spe,,'ed 5 out as the surfeit of courts. A judge ought to

1 Stick. To scruple; to hesitate. 'Rather than impute our miscarriages to our
own corruptions, we do not stick to arraign Providence itsdf:'-L' Estrange.
2 IJeut. xxvii. I 7.
3 'A righteous m
m falling in his cause before his adversary is as a troubled
fountain and a corrupt sprillg.'-p,.uv. xxv. 26.
oJ .Amos v. 7.
5 Spew. To eject with loathing. 'Because tllOU art lukewarm, and neither
. cold nor hot, I will spew thee out. of my mouth/-Revel. iii. 16.

]
8say h-i.J

OJ Judicature.

4 8 9

pre-pare his way to a just f'cntencc, as God nscth to prepare
his way by rai
ing vallcys and taking down hills: so WhCll there
appearcth on cithcr sidc a high hana, violcnt pcrsccution, cun-
ning adyantages tak('n, combination, power, great counsel, then
is the yirtue of a judge sccn to Blake inequality equal; that he
Inay plant his judgncnt as upon even ground. 'Qui fortiter
eillungit, elicit sanguinenl ;'1 and wherc the wine-pl'css is hard
wronght/ it yidds a harsh wine, that tastcs of the grape-stone.
J udgcs n1ust beware of hard constructions and straincd in-
fercI)ecs; for there is no worse torture than the torture of laws;
e
pecially in ca
e of law8 penal, they ought to ha,'c care, that
that which was mcant for terror/ be not turned into rigour:
and that they bring not upon people that bhowcr whereof the
Scripture speaketh, 'Pluet super e05 laqueos;14 for l)cnal laws
pl'es
ed, are a shower of snares upon the pcople: thcrcfore let
})ellal laws, if thcy ha\-e been sleepers of long/ or if they be
grown unfit for the prescnt tin1c, be by wi::,e judge:s confined in
the cxecution: 'Judicis officÏ1un est, ita telllpora rerun1,' &c. 6
In ('auses of ]ife and death, judges ought (as far as the la,v
pern1Ïtteth) in justice to rClnember mercy, and to cast a severe
eye upon the exanlple, but a merciful eye upon the person.
Secondly, for thc ad\ ocates and counsel that plead. Patience

n}(l gravity of hearing is an essential part of justice, and an
over-speaking judge is no well-tuned cymbal.i It is no grace
to a juùge first to find that which he might have heard in due
tilne frolH the bar, or to show quicknes::, of conceitS in cutting
off e\Tidence or counsel too short, or to preyent infonnation by
questions, though pprtinent. The parts of a judge in hear-
ing arc four :-to direct the e,"idencc; to nlodcrate length,

1 r 'Yho wrings hard draws forth blood.' Cf. Prol'. xxx. 33,
2 \Yrought. IVodced. r It bad becn a breach of peacc to have 1.m.ought any
mine of his.'-Rrzleigh.
3 Tel'ror. lV/tat llWY excite dread. r Rulers are not a terror to good works,
but to evi1.'-Roman-s .A.iii. 3-
-4 'He shall rain snares upon them.'-Psalm xi. 6.
5 Of. For; during. ' He was desirous to see him of a long season.'-Luke
xxiii. 8.
6 'It is the duty of a judge to take into consideration the times, as well as the
eircum:stallcl's, of facts/-Uviù, Trist.1. i. 37,
; Psalm cl. 5,
8 Conceit. Conception; apprehension. 'I shaH be found of a quick conceit in
jUllgmcllt, and I sball be admireù.'-1risdom viii. 1 I.

49 0

Of Judicature.

[Essay lvi.

repetition, or impertinency] of speech; to recapitulate, select,
and collate the n1aterial points of that which hath been said;
and to give the rule or sentence. 'Vhatsoever is above these
is too much, and proceedeth either of2 glory3 and willingncss to
speak, or of impatience to hear, or of shortness of memory, or
of ,vant of a stayed and equal attention. It is a strange thing
to see that the boldness of advocates should prcvail ,vith judges,
,vhereas tllcy should imitate God, in whose seat they sit, who
represseth the presumptuous, and giveth grace to the modest;
but it is more strange that judges should have noted favourites,
,vhich cannot but cause multiplication of fees and suspicion of
by-,vays. r.l
hcre is due from the judge to the advocate son1C
commendation and gracing/ where causes are ,yell handled and
fairs pleaded, especially towards the side .which obtaineth 6 not,
for that upholds in the client the reputation of his counsel, and
beats down in him the conceit7 of his cause. There is likewise
due to the public a civil reprehension of advocates, where there
appeareth cunning counsel, gross neglect, slight inforll1ation,
indiscreet pressing, or an over -bold defence. And let not the
counsel at the bar chops with the judge, nor wind himself into
the handling of the cause anew, after the judge hath declared
his sentence; but, on the other side, let not the judge meet the
cause half-way, nor give occasion to the party to say his counsel
or proof.'3 ,,,ere not heard.
Thirdly, for that that concerns clerks and n1Ïnisters. The
place of justice is a hallowed place; and therefore not only the

1 Impertinency. Irrelevancy. ::-5ee page 7 0 .
2 Of. From. See page 237.
3 Glory. IJisplay; vaunting. See page 477.
4 Grace. To favom'.
, Regardless pass'd her o'er, nor grac'd with kind ndieu.'-IJryden.
5 Fair. Fairly.
'Entreat her fair.'-Skalrespere.
6 Obtain. To prevail; succeed. 'Thou shalt not obtain nor escape by fleeing.'
-Ecclesiasticus, xi. 10.
7 Conceit. Opinion. 'Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit? There is
more hope of a fool than of him/-Provo xxv. 12.
, I
hall not fail to approve the fair conceit
The king hath of you.' -Sltakespere.
S Chop. To band!} 'Words.
, The chopping French we do not unùerstand.'-Sltakespe1.e.

Essay 1 ri.]

Of Judicature.

49 1

bcnch, but the footpace 1 ann. precincts, and purprise 2 thereof,
ought to he preserveJ without scandal and corruption; for,
certaiuly, grapes (a
the Scripture saith) (will not he gathered
of thorns or thistles ;'3 neither can justice yield her fl'uit with
sweetness amongst the briars and brambles of catching and
l)ollil1g-t clcrks and Ininisters. The attcndance of courts is sub-
ject to four Lad instrulnents: first, certain l)crsons that are
sowers of suits, ,vhich lllake the court swell, and the country
l)ille: the second sort is of those that engage courts in quarrels
of jurisdiction, and are not truly 'amici curiæ,' but' parasiti
curiæ,':J in puffing a court up beyond her bounds for their own
scraps and advantages: the third sort is o( those that 111ay be
accounted the left hands of courts: pcrsons that are full of
nimble and sinister tricks and shifts, ",-hereby they per\rert the
plain and direct courses of courts, and bring justice into oblique
lines and labyrinths: and the fourth is the poller 6 and exacter
of fees, which justifies the comrnon resemblance of the courts
of justice to the bush, whereunto while the sheep flies for de-
fence in ,,-cather, he is sure to lose l)al't of the fleece. On the
othcr side, an aucient7 clerk, skilful in precedents, ,yary in pro-
cef'dings, and understanding in the business of the court, is an
excellent figure of a court, and cloth lnany tÍn1es point the way
to the judge himself.
Fourthly, for that which may concern the sovereign and
estate. Judges ought, aboye aU, to ren1ember the conclusion
of the Roman twelye tables, ' Salus populi suprema lex ;'8 and
to know that Jaws, except they be in ordcr to that end, are but
things captious, and oracles not well inspired: therefore it is a
happy thing in a State, when kings and states do often consult

1 Footpace. A lobby.

Purprise. Enclosure. 'Rut their wives and children were to assem'Lle
together in a certain pla(.e in Phoc. s, and they filletl the purprises and precincts
thereof with a huge quantity of food/-Holland.
3 J1Iall. vii. J 6.
4 Polling. Plundering. ' })eeling and polling were voyded, and in place thereof
succeeJf'd liberality.' - Erasm1l.
.
5 'Friends of the court' but' parasites of the court.'
6 })oller. Plunde'rer. '\Vith Sallust, he may rail downright at a spoiler of
countries, and yet in office to be a most grie\'ous poller himself/-Burton.
7 Ancient. Senior. · J unins and Alldronicm, were in Christianity his ancients.'
-I looker.
8 'The s..\fcty of the people is the supreme law.'

49 2

OJ Judicature.

[Essay 1 vi.

'with judges: and again, whcn judges do often consult with tIle
kÏ11g and State: the one, where there is mattcr of law inter-
venient 1 in business of State; the other ,,-hen there is some
consideration of State inter\'cnient ill matter of law; for
many times the things deduced to judgment nlay be ' nleum'
and 'tuum/
when the rcason and consequence thereof may
trench to point of estate: I call matter of estate, Hot only
the parts of soyereignty, but whatsoe,-er introduceth allY great
alteration or dangerous precedent: or cOllcerneth nlallifestly
any grcat portion of l)cople j and let no man weakly conceive
that just laws, and true policy, haye any antipathy j for they
are like the spirit8 and sinc,ys, that one n10ves with the other.
Let judges also remember, that Solomon's throne was supported
by lions on both sides: 3 let them be lions, but Jct lions under
the throne; being circumspect, that they do not check or oppose
any points of sovereignty. Let not judges also be so igllorant
of their own right as to think there is not left them, as a prin-
cipal part of their office, a wise use and apIJlication of hrws;
for they may remember what the al;ostle saith of a greatcr la,v
than theirs, , Nos scimus quia lex bona est, modo quis ea utatur
legitinlc.'4

AXTITHETA.

PRO.
, K on est interpretatio, sed di\'inatio,
qnæ rceedit a litera.
, if v:e depart from the leller, 'iCe
are not irderpreting the law, but guess-
ing at the lmv.'

, Cum receditur a litera, judex transit
in legislatorem.
, IVhen 'iCe depart from the leifer,
tlte judge is changed into a legislator/

COJ"TRA.
'Ex cmnibus \"el'bis eliciendus cst
sensus, qui intcrp'etur singula.
''l%e
'ense (1' ille 'lrhole sllOVld be
taken as tlie inÜ;
1!rde'J' of each single
'It:o'J'd .'

, Pessima t-yrannis lex in equuleo.
, Law }Jut to tlie rack is Ole v.:orst qf
tgram ies.'

1 Intervenient. Inter'L'enil1g. ' I omit tl1Ìngs intel'venient.'- Trotto11.

'':'1 ine' anù ' thine.'
3 I Kings x. 20.
4 '''
e know that the law is good, if a man use it lawfully.'- I Tim. i. 8.

Es
ay l,"i J

Annotations.

493

AX
OT...\.1'I0XS.

, There is due to tlte public (( ciril reprehension of adL'ocate;;:,
1.VlleJ.e there appeareth cUJlnin!J cOllJlsel, . . iJldisc,'eet
pressing, or an over-bold defence.'

The tenlptatioll to an 'over-bold dcfcnce' -to a wilful mis-
leading of a jurlge or jury by specious sophistry, or seeking to
embarras
an honest witness, and bring his testimony into dis-
credit-is onc to which the advocate is, undeniably, greatly
exposed. Kay, it has even been nlailltained by no lllean authority"
'that it is part of a pleader's duty to ha\re no scruples about
any act whatever that filay benefit his client.' 'There are
many whon1 it may be needful to ren1Ínc1,' says an enlinellt
lawyer, , that an advocate, by the sacred duty of his conncctioll
with his client, knows, in the discharge of that office, l)l1t one
person in the world-that client, and none other. To scr'"c
that client, by all expedient means, to protect that client at aU
hazards and costs to all others (e\?en the party already injured)
and alnongst others, to hilllself, is the highest and nlost unques-
tioned of his duties. And he nlust 110t regard the alarm, the
suffering, the tornlent, the destruction, which he may bring
upon any others. Nay, separating even the duties of a patriot
froln those of an a(h'ocate, he must go on, reckless of the
consequences, if his fate should unhappily be to Í1n r olve his
country in confusion for his client.'-[Licence of Counsel, P.3.J
On the other hand, it is recol'ùeù that 'Sir
Iatthew I-Iale,
whenevcr he ,vas convinced of the injustice of any cause, would
engage no lIlore in it than to explain to his client the grounds
of that conviction; he abhorrerl the practice of misrecitiug
evidence, quoting precedents in books falsely or unfairly, so as
to deceive ignorant juries or inattentive judges; and he adhered
to the same scrupulous sincerity ill his pleadings "hich he
obser\-ccl in the other transactions of life. It was as great a
. dishonour as a lllan "as capable of, that for a little nloney he
was hired to say otherwise than he thought.' - [ Licence of
COUllsi:l, p. 4.J

1 'Lecture on the Intellectual and
Ioral Influences of the Professions/ reprinted
in the Elements of Rlletoric.

494

OJ Judicature.

[Essay lvi.

C The advocate,' says another eminent legal .writer, C observ-
ing in an honest witness a deponent whose testin10ny promises
to be adverse, assumes terrific tones anù deportment, and, pre-
tending to find dishonesty on the part of the ,vitness, strives to
give his testimony the appearance of it. I say a bonâ fide
,,,itness; for in the case of a witness who, by an adverse inter-
l'ogator, is really looked upon as dishonest, this is not the
l)l'"oper course, nor is it taken with him. For bringing to light
the falsehood of a witness really belieyed to be mendacious, the
lllore suitable, or rather the only suitable course is to forbear
to express the impression he has inspired. Supposing his tale
clear of suspicion, the witness runs on his course with fluency
till he is entangled in some irretrievable contradiction, at
yariance "Tith other parts of his own story, or .with facts noto-
rious in themselves, or established by proofs frorH other sources.'
- [Licence of Counsel, p. 5.J
C "r e happen to be a,,-are, from the practice of persons of the
highest experience in the examination of "Titnesses J that this
description is almost ,vithout exception correct, and that, as a
general rule, it is only the honest and tinlÏd .witness "\V ho is
confounded by imperious deporbnent. rrhe practice gives pre-
eminence to the unscrupulous ,vitness ,,,ho can withstand such
assaults. Roger North, in his lífe of Sir Dudley North,
relates that the la,v of Turkey, like our absurd law of evidence
in some cases, required the testimony of two .witnesses in proof
of each fact; and that a practice had in consequence arisen, and
had obtained the sanction of general opinion, of using a false
,vitness in proof of those facts which adr
itted of only one
witness. Sir Dudley North, while in rrurkey, had numerous
disputes which it became necessary to settle by litigation,-
C and,' says his biographer, , our merchant found by experience,
that in a direct fact a false witness was a surer card than a true
one; for if the judge has a mind to baffle a tcstimouy, an honest,
harmless witness, that doth not know his play, cannot so ,veIl
stand his many captious questions as a false witness used to the
trade will do; for he hath been exercised, and is prepared for
such handling, and can clear himself, when the other ,,'ill be
confounded: therefore circumstances may be such as to make
the false one more eligible.'
According to one, then, of the "Titers I have cited. all

Essay 1 vi.]

Annotations.

495

advocate is justified, and is fulfilling a duty, not only in pro-
tcsting with :-ïolculnity hi::; own full convi('tion of the ju:stice of
his clicnt's cause, though hp may feel no such con' iction,-not
only in feigning yarious emotions (like an actor; except that
the actor's credit consists ill its bcing kno10n that he is only
feigning), such as pity, indignation, moral approbation, or
di
bust, or contenlpt, ,,-hen he neither fecls anything of the
kiueI, nor belie,'es the case to he one that justly calls for such
feelings; but he is also occasionally to entrap or mislead, to
l'evile, insult, and calumniate persons whom he may in his heart
b
lieve to be respectable persons and honcst witnesses. Another
ou the contrary obsen'cs: ",,.. e n1Íght ask our learned friend
and f('How-christian, as wcll as the learned and noble editor of
Paley's .lVàtural Theology, and his other fcllow-professors of the
rcJigion which says 'that lying lilJS are an abomination to the
Lorò,' to explain to us how they reconcile the practice under
their rule, with the christian precepts, or avoid the solenln
scriptural denunciation-'"\Y oe unto thelll that call evil good,
and gooù evil; that put darkness for light, and light for dark-
ness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter; . . which
justify the wicked for reward, and take a\\ ay the righteousness
of the righteous fl'om him.'-[ Licence of Counsel, p. 10.J
Of the necessity and allowableness of the practices upon
which these opposite legal opinions have been giyen, I leaye
everyone to judge for hilI1self. For nlY own part, I think that
the kind of skill by which a cross-examiner succeeds in alarm-
ing, n1Íslcading, or bewildcring an honest witness, Ilia)" be cha-
l'acterized as the most, or one of the most, base and depraved
of all possible employnlents of intellectual power. N or is it
by any means the most effectual way of eliciting truth. The
nlode best aclaptcd for attaining this object is, I anI convinced,
quite differcnt frOltl that by which an honest, sinlplc-111inded
witness is most easily baffled arld confused. I haye seen the
experiment tried, of subjecting a witness to such a kind of cross-
examination by a practical lawyer as 'would have been, I am
convinced, the Ulost likely to a1al."n1 and perplex l11any an honest
witness, ,yithout any effect in shaking the testi111011Y; and after-
wards by a totally opposite mode of examination, such as would
not haye at all pcrplexed one ,,'ho was honestly telling the
truth, that same witness was drawn on, step by step, to acknow.

49 6

OJ Judicature.

[Essay lvi.

ledge the utter falsity of the .whole. Generally speaking, a quiet,
gentle, and ::;traightforward, though full and carcful, exan1Ínation,
,rill be thE' nlost adapted to elicit truth; and the manæuyres,
and the brow-beating, which are the most adapted to confuse
an honest, simple-n1inded "itne
s, are just "hat the dishonest
one is the best prepared for. The lnore the storm blusters, the
more carefully he "Taps round hitn the cloak, which a wann
sunshinE' wiU often induce him to throw off.
I will add one renlark ul)on the danger incurred by the
adyocate-eyen if he be one who would
cruple either wilfully
to use
ophistry to n1Ïslead a judge, or to perplex and browbeat
an honest witness-of haying his mind alienated frO"ln the
in,'estigation of truth. Bishop Butler obselTes, and laments,
that it is "\ery C0111mOn for nlen to lun-e 'a curiosity to kuO"w
,,'hat is said, but no curiosity to know ,,'hat is true.' K 0'''',
none can be (other points being equal) more in need of being
1)l1Í 011 his guard against this fault than he ".ho is professionally
occupied with a multitude of cases, in each of ,rhich he is to
consider what may be plausibly urged on both sides; while the
question what ought to be the decision is out of his province as
a pleader. I anI supposing hinl not to be seeking to mislead
by urging fallacious arguments; but there ,viII often be sound
and valid argunlents-real probabilities-on opposite sides. A
judge, or anyone whose business it is to ascertain truth, is to
decide according to the jJreponderance of the reasons; but the
pleader's business is merely to set forth as forcibly as possible
those on his own side. And if he thinks that the habitual
practice of this has 110 tendency to generate in him, morally,
any indifference, or, intellectually, any incompetency, in respect
of the ascertainment of truth,-if he consider himself quite safe
fronl any such danger,- I should thcn say that he is in very
great danger.

ESS.A Y L'TII.

OF _\.XGER.

T o seck to extinguish anger uttcrly is but a bravery. of the
Stoics. 'Ye have better oracles: 'Be angry, but sin not;
let not the sun go down upon your allger.'2 .L\.nger must be
limited and confined, both in race and in time. 'Ye ,,-ill first
speak how the natural inclination and habit, 'to be angry,' may
be attempered 3 and calmed; secondly, how the particular
11l0tiollS of anger Inay be repressed,. or, at least, refrained 4 fron1
doing mischief; thirdly, how to raise anger, or appease anger in
another.
For the first there is no other war but to meditate anù
ruminate wen upon the effects of anger, how it troubles man's
life; and the best tilne to do this, is to look back upon anger
,,-hen the fit is thoroughly oyer. Seneca saith well, 'that
anger is like rain, which breaks itself upon that it falls.'5 The
Scripture exhorteth us 'to posses8 our sou!:s in l)atiel1ce ;'6 who-
soever is out of patience, is out of possession of his soul. )Ien
must rIot turn bees:

, Animasque in vulnere ponunt.' i

Anger is certainly a kind of baseness, as it appears well in the
weakness of those subjects in "hon1 it reigns, children, women,
old folks, sick folks. Only men must beware that they carry
their anger rather with scorn than w.ith fear, so that they may
seem rather to be above the injury than below it, which is a
thing easily done, if a man will give law to himself iu it.

1 Brayery. Bravado. 'One Tait, who was then of the Lord's })artJ, came
forth in a hraver!!, asking if any had COUT'1ge to break a lal1ce for his mistress.'-
Spoifislvode.

Ephes. hr. 26.
3 ...\ttemper. To temper; soften.
'Those smiling eyes, attempì-ing ever ra
y.'-Pope.
4 Refrain. To restrain.
, I refrain my lips.
I refrain my soul, and keep it low.'
5 Sen. De INÎ, i. I. f} LIke xxi. 19,
7 'And leave their lives in the wound.'-Yirg. Geoj"!J. iv. 2.3 8 .
KK

49 8

Of Angel'.

[Essay lvii.

For the second point, the canses and motiycs of anger are
chiefly three: first, to be too sensible of hurt, for no luan is
angry that feels not himself hurt, and, therefore, tenùer and
delicate persons must needs be ofe angry, they hav.c so rnany
things to trouble them which more robust natures ha,'e little
sense of; the next is, the apprehension and construction of the
iuj llry offered to be, in the circumstances thereof, full of con-
telnpt-for contempt is that which putteth an edge upon anger,
as much, or lllore, than the hurt itself; and, therefore, ,,-hen
Inen are ingenious in picking out circumstances of contenlpt,
they do kindle their anger much; lastly, opinion of the touch 2
of a nlan's reputation doth multiply and sharpen anger, wherein
the renledy is, that a man should haye, as Gonsalvo ,,'as wont
to say, , telhnl honoris crassiorem.'3 But in all refrainings of
anger, it is the best renledy to ,vin time, and to nlake a nlan's
self believe that the opportunity of his re\Tenge is not yet COllIe;
but that he foresees a time for it, and so to still himself in the
lllean time, and reserve it.
To contain 4 anger from mischie:f, though it take hold of a
lllan, there be two things .whereof J 7 0u must have special
caution: the one, of extreme bitterness of words, especially if
they be aculeate 5 and proper;6 for' communia maledicta'i are
nothing so nluch; and again, that in anger a Dlan rev.eal no
secrets; for that makes him not fit for society: the other, that
you do not peremptorily break off in any business in a fit of
anger: but howsoever 8 you sho,v bitterness, do not act anything
that is not revocable.
For l'aising and appeasing anger in another, it is done chiefly

10ft. Often. See page 32 I.
2 Touch. Censure. ' I never bare any touch of conscience with greater regret.'
-King Charles.
3 'Å thicker web of honour.' -A. L. II. xx. 12.
4 Contain. To rest.rain.
'Fear not, my lord, we can contain ourselvcs.'-Sltakespe'1'e,
i Aculeate. Pointed; sha.rp; stinging.
6 Proper. Appropriate.
, In Athens all was l)lea
ure, mirth, and play,
All proper to the Spring and sprightly
Ia-JT.'-Dr!/deil.
7 'General reproaches.'
8 Howsoever. Hou'eve.r. 'Berosus, who, after
Ioses, was one of the most
ancient, howsoever he has since been corrupted, cloth in the substance of all agree.'
-Raleigh.

Essay h"ii.]

rl Ii/Willi iÚJls.

499

by chusing of timcs when Inen are forwardest and ,yorst dis-
posed to inceIlSC thcln; again, by gathering (as was touched
before) all that you can find out to aggravate the contempt;
and the two remedies are by the contraries: the former to take
good times, when first to relate to a Ulan an angryl business,
for the first impression is much; and the other is, to sever, a:-;
mueh as 111ay be, the construction of the injury from the point
of contenlpt; imputing it to nÜsunderstanc1ing, fear, passion, or
w hat you will.

ANXOT..t\..l'IOXS.

Aristotle, in his Rhetoric (Book ii. chap. 2) -a "york ,,'ith
".hich Bacon seems to have been little, if at all, acquainted
-defines anger to be 'a desire, accompanied by D1ental
uneasiness, of avenging one3elf, or, as it were, inflicting
punisilluent for something that appears an unbecon1Íng slight,
either in things which concern one's
elf, or some of one's
friends.' And he hence infers that, if this be anger, it Inust
be invariably felt for some individual, not towards a class
or description of persons. _\.nc1 he afterwards grounds upon
this definition the distinction between anger and hatred;
between which, he says, there are six points of comparison.
Anger arises out of something haying a personal reference
to ourselves; whereas hatred is independent of such considera-
tions, since it is borne towards a person, merely on account of
the believing hinl to be of a certain description or character.
Again, anger has reference to indi,-idual objects; hatred to
,,-hole classes of persons-e\yery one hating thieyes and in-
formers. In the next place, anger is accompanied by pain;
hatred is not so. .Again, anger would be satisficd to inflict
S01l1e pain on its ohject, hut hatred desires nothing short of
deadly harnl; the angry man desires that the pain he inflicts
should be known to come from him; but hatred cares not for
this. Again, the feeling of anger is softened by time, but

1 .\ngry. Provoking anger.
, That was to him an angry jape (trick.)' -Slwkespue.
KK2

sea

Of Anger.

[Essar 1 vii.

hatred IS incurable. Once more, the angry man might be
induced to pity the object of his anger, if many misfortunes
befell him; hut he who feels hatred cannot be thus moved to
pity, for he desires the destruction of the object of his hatred. l
Adam Smith, in his Theory of .J..lforal Senti1nents, seems to
consider as the chief point of distinction betwcen" anger and
hatred, the necessity to the gratification of the forlner that the
ohject of it should not only be punished, but punished by
means of the offended person, and on account of the particular
injury inflicted. Auger requires ' that the offender should not
only ue made to grie,.e in his turn, but to grieve for that parti-
cular wrong which has been done by hin1. The natural grati-
fication of this passion tends, of its own accord, to produce all
the political ends of punishment; the correction of the criminal,
and exalnple to the puhlic.'2
It is to be observed, that in seeking to pacify one ,vho is
angry, opposite courses must be pursued ,vith persons of two
opposite dispositions.
One man is at once calmed by submission, and readily
accppts an apology. Another is more and more irritated the
nlore you acknowledge a fault, and is led, by the earnestness of
.)Tour entreaty for pardon, to think hinlsclf more grievou
ly
,v rouged than he had at first supposed. The former has some-
thing of the charactel' of the dog, which will never bite a lllan,
or another dog, 'who lies dovJn. And he will sometimes come
to convince himself that he had no reason to be so angry,
unless you deny that he had. The other can only be pacified
by stoutly defending yourself, and maintaining that he was
".rong to be displeased.
A man of a violent and l'eYeng
ful temper will sometimes
exercise great self-control from motives of prudence, ",-hen he sees
that he could not yent his resentment "Tithout danger or loss
to himself. Such self-restraint as this does not at all tend to
subdue or soften his fierce and malignant passions, and to make
him a mild and placable character. It only keeps the fire
smouldering within, instead of bursting out into a flame. He
is not quelling the desire of revenge, but only l
epressing it till

1 Aristotle's Rh,etoric. Book 11., chap. iv.
2 Adam Smith. Tlleory of JIoral Sentiments. Part II. cllap. i. p. 113.
Eleventh eùition.

Essay I \"ii.]

Annotations.

5 01

he shall ha,Te an opportunity of indulging it more safcly and
effectually. And, accordingly, he will haye to exercise the same
painful s{'lf-re
traillt again and again on c,.cry frcsh occasion.
But to exert an equal self-restraint, on a good principle,
,vith a sincere and earnest dC:5ire to suhdue re,'engcful feelings,
and to form a n1Ïld, and generous, and forgiving tcmper,-this
,,-ill produce quite a diffcrent result. A Ulan who acts thus on
a right nlotive, will find his task easier and easier on each oc-
casion; bccause he nill become less sensitive to pro,.ocations,
and will have been forming a habit of not Inerely a,'oiding any
outward expression of angcr in words or acts, but also of
indulging 110 rcscntful feclings within.
It is to be observed, that generous forgiveness of injurics is
a point of christian duty respccting which some people fall
into confusion of thought. They confound together personal
'ì'esentJnent, and disapprobation of what is 1110ral1y wrong. ..A.
person who has cheated you, or slandered, or otherwise wronged
you, is neither 'I1zore nor less a cheat or a slanderer, than if he
had done the saIne to a stranger. And ill that light he ought
to he viewed. Such a IJerson is one on "whonl you should not
indced wish to inflict any suffering beyond what may be neces-
sary to reform hinl, and to deter other wrong-doers; and you
should ßeek to benefit hinl in the highest degree by bringing
hinl to a sense of his sin. But you ought not to chuse such a
man as an associate, or to trust hinl, and in all respects treat
hinl as if he had done nothing wrong. You should therefore
take care, on the one hand, that the pcrsonal iujnry you nlay
have suffercd does not lead you to think worse of a Ulau than
he deserves, or to treat him worse; and, on the other hand,

TOU should not allow a false generosity to destroy in your mind
the distinctions of right and wrong. K or, again, should the
desire of gaining credit for great magnanin1Ïtr, lead
'ou to
pretend to think fa,'ouraLly of wrong conduct, Dlerely bccause
it is you that have suffercd ii'om it. X one but thoughtless or
misjudging people "ill applaud you for this. The duty of
christian forgivencss does not require you, nor are you allowed,
to look on injustice, or any other fault, with indiflerellce, as if
it wcre nothing wrong at all, merely because it is you that have
been "Tongcd.
But evcn ,,-here we cannot but censure, ill a ):110ral poiut of

5 02

Of Angel'.

[Essay h.ii.

view, the condnct of those Trho haye injurcd us, we shoulù
remember that such treatment as may be very fitting for them
to receive, may be very unfitting for us to gi\Te. To cherish,
or to gratify, haughty resentment, is a departure from the
pattern left us by HÜn who' enùured such contradiction of
sinners against Himself,' not to be justified by any offence that
can be committed against us. And it is this recollection of
IIim who, faultless IIimself, deigned to It'a'Te us an example of
meekness and long-suffering, that is the true principle and
motive of Christian forgiveness. "T e shall best fortify our
patience under injuries, by remembering ho,v much "
e our-
sclyes have to be forgiven, and that it .was ' while ,ye were yet
sinners, Christ" died for us.' Let the Christian therefore
accustom himself to say of anyone who has greatly,vronged
hin1, 'that man Olves nze an hundred pence.'l
An old Spanish "Triter says, 'To return evil for good is
l1eyilish; to return good for good is human; but to return
good for evil is Godlike.'

1 ::\Iatt. xviii.

ESS.L
Y L '\TIII. OF ,TICISSITUDES OF TIIIXGS.

S OLO::\IOX saith, 'Therc is no new thing upon the earth :'1
so that as Plato had an inlagination that all kno\\ lcdge 1fa

but remembrance,2 so Solomon gi,-eth his sentence, 'That
all noyelty is but oblivion j' whereby you may see, that the
ri vel" of Lethe runneth as well above ground as below. 'I'here
is an abstruse astrologer that saith, 'If it 'Were not for two
things that are constant (the one is, that the fixed stars ever
stand at like distance one from another, and never conle nearer
together, nor go farther asunder; the other that the diurnal
motion perpetually keepeth tiu1e), no indiyidual would last one
n10ment.' Certain it is, that matter is in a perpetual flux,3 and
ne,.er at a stay. 'l'he great winding sheets that bury all things
in ohli,-ion are two, deluges and earthquakes. As for conflagra-
tions and great droughts, they do not nlerely disl)eoplë but
destroy. Phaeton's car went but a day; antl the three years'
drought, in the tinle of Elias,5 .was but particular, and left people
aliyc. As for the great burnings by lightnings, .which aloe often
in the 'Yest llldies/ they are but llarrow; but ill the other two
destructions, by deluge and earthquake, it is farther to be noted,
that the reU1nant of people ". hich h ap 7 to be resen-ed, are com-
monly ignorant and lllountainous people, that can give no
account of the time past; so that the obliyion is all one, as if
none had been left. If rou consider well of the people of the

1 Eccles. i. 9.

See Advancement of Learning. lJpdication.
3 }'}ux. Fluctuation. ' Our language, like our bodies, is in a perpetualflux/-
Felton.
4 Dispeople. Depopulate.

, King:;, furious and severe,
"Tho claim'd the skies, dÙ
peopled air and flooùs,
The lonely lords of empty wilds and woods.'-Pope.
5 I Kings xvii.
6 \Ypst Indies. 'In Bacon's time was meant by "Test Indies all the countries
included unùer the name of the :-5panish l\lain; th
t is, all the continental parts of
.America discovered by the Spaniards, or the countries which nuw form Yellezuela,
Xew Granada, Central America, Equator, Peru, &c.'-Spiers.
ï Hap. Happen. 'To brandish the tongue wantonly, to slash finù smite \\ ith
it any that haj)petll, to come in our wa
', cluth argue malice or Imulllcss.'-Bal"row.

5 0 4

Of Vicissitudes of Things.

[E8
ay I yiii.

"Y est Indies, it is very probable that they are a newer or a
younger people than the people of the old ,yorld; and it is
l11uch more likely, t11at the destruction that hath heretofore
been there, "
as not by earthquakes (as the Egyptian priest told
Solon) concerning the island of Atlantis,1 that it was s'wallowed
by an earthquake), but rather, that it ,vas desolated ùy a par-
ticular 2 deluge-for earthquakes are seldom in those parts: but
on the other side, they have such pouring rivers, as 3 the ri,'crs
of Asia, and Africa, and Europe) are but brooks to them. Their
Andes likewise, or mountains, are far higher than those with
us; \rhereby it seen1S, that the remnants of generations of n1en
,vere in such a particular deluge sa\
ed. As for the observation
that
Iachia\'el4 hath, that the jealousy of sects cloth much ex-
tinguish the memory of things-traducing 5 Gregory the Grcat,
that he did what in him Jay to extinguish all heathcn antiquities
-I do not find that those zeals 6 do any great effects, nor last
long; as it appeared in the succession of Sabinian, ,,'ho did revive
the forlner antiquities.
The vicissitudes, or mutations, in the superior globe, are no
fit matter for this pre
ent argument.ï It may be, Plato's great
)Tear/ if the world should last so long, would haye sorne effect,
not in renewing the state of like individuals (for that is the
flune 9 of those that conceive the celestial bodies hélye 1110re
accurate influences upon these things belo,v, than indeed they
have), but in gross. IO Comets, out of question, have likewise

1 Vide Plat. Tint. iii. 24, seq.
2 Particular. Partial; not general.
3 As. Tltat. See page 22.
4 :\Iach. Disc. Sop. liv. ii. 5.
5 Traduce. To condemn; to censure,
vlle Iter j'ltstl!J or unjustly. (X ow, to
calumniat.e, to slander.)
6 Zeals. (N ot now used in the pluraL)
7 Argument. Subject.
'She who even but now was J.our best object,
Your praise's argument, balm of your age,
Dearest and best.' -.Sllakespere.
8 Plat. Tim. iii. 3 8 , seq.
9 PUll1e. Idle conceit; 'rain imaginafion. ' If his sorrow hring forth amend-
ment, he hath the grace of hope, though it be clouded over with a melandlOl
'
fume.'-Hammond.
10 Gross. On the wll,ole. 'The confession of our sins to God may be general,
when we only confess in gross t.hat we are sinful; or particular, when we mention
the several sorts and acts of our sins.'-Dz1ty oj lJIart.

Es
ay lviii.]

Of Vicissitudes of Things.

5 0 5

power and effect over t11C gross l and mass of things; but they
arc l'ather gazed upon, and waited upon:! in their journey, than
wisely obscrved in their effects, espccially in thcir respccti\re
effects; that is, what kind of comet, for magnitude, colour,
version 3 of the bcanls, placing in the region of heaven or lasting,
l)rodueeth what kind of cflccts.
'l'here is a toy, which I ha\re heard, an(l I would not ha\-e it
giren o\.er, but waited upon a little. They say it is observed
in the Lo\v Countries (I kllO'V not in what part), that e\-ery
fixe and thirty years, the same kiud and sute 4 of rears aUfl
weathcrs conlCS about again; as great frosts, great wet, great
droughts, warm wintcrs, summers with little heat, and the like;
and they can it the prime: it is a thing I do the rather Inen-
tiOll, becausc, conlputing backwards, I have found some concur-
rence.
But to leave these points of nature, and to come to n1en.
The grcatest vicissitude of things alllongst men, is the vicissi-
tude of sects and religions; for these orbs rule in men's minds
1110St. rrhe true rcligion is built upon the rock; the rest are
tossed upon the wayes of tinle. To speal(, therefore, of the
cau
es of new sects, and to gi\-e some counsel concerning thenl,
as far as the weakness of human judgment can giye st ay 5 to so
great re\?olutions.
'Yhen the religion fornlerly received is rent by discords, anel
when the holiness of the professors of religion is decayed and
full of scandal, and withal 6 the tinles be stupid, ignorant, and
barbarous, you may dou bt i the springing up of a llew sect; if

1 Gross. The clâif pa;.t; the main bod/f. 'The gross of the people can haye
no other prospect in changes and rcvolutÍ01IS than of public ble::;sillgs.'-Âddison.
:: "
aited upon. Watched. See page 19 8 .
3 Version. Direction.
4 Sut.e or suit. Ordel.; correspondence. 'Touching matters belonging to the
Church of Christ, this we concei"\"e that they are Dot of one sute.'-IIooker.
}
or our expression' out of sorts,' Shakespere ha
' out of suits.'
;)
tay. Check.

, "Yith prudent sla!! he long' defcrred
The fierce cOlltention.'-Plâlips.
6 'Yithal. Likel{"ise; besides.
· God, when He gave me streug'th, to shew .u:Uhal,
How slight the gift was, hung it in my hair.'-
lIilton.
'; Doubt. To fear; to apprellelld. 'Thi
is e
lOu
h for a project without an
.
name. I doubt more than will ùe re<.luced into p "aeticc.'-Sl/:ifl.

5 06

Oj
JTicissitudes oj Things.

[Essay lyiii.

then also there should arise any extrayagant and strange spirit
to nlake }lÍ1nself author thereof-all which points held when
)Iaholnet published his la,v. If a ne,v sect have not two pro-
perties) fear it not) for it win not spread: the one is the sup-
planting, or the opposing of authority established-for nothing
is more popular than that j the other is the giving licence to
pleasures and a yoluptuous life: for as for speculative heresies
(such as "Tere in ancient tiITIes the
\..rians) and no,v the Armi-
nians), though they ,york mightily npon men's wits, they do not
produce any great alteration ill States, except it be by the help
of civil occasions. Therc be three manner of plantations of
new sects-by the power of signs and miracles; hy the eloquence
and ,visdom of speech and persuasion; and by the sword. For
martyrd.oms, I reckon theu1 amongst lTIiracles, because they
seen1 to exceed the strength of 11 uman nature: and I may do
the like of superlatiye and adnlirable holiness of life. Surely
there is no better "Tay to stop the rising of new sects and
schisms than to reform abuses; to COlTIpound the smaller dif-
ferences; to proceed lTIildlYJ and not ,vith sanguinary persecu-
tions; and rather to take off the principal authors, ùy winnillg
and advancing tllem, than to enrage them by violence and
bi tterness.
The changes and vicissitudes in ,,
ars are many, but chiefly
in three things; in the seats or stages of the war, in the
'''eapons, and in the manner of the conduct. "r aI'S, in ancient
time, seemed nlore to move from east to west; for the Persians,
Assyrians, Arabians, Tartars (which were the invaders), were all
eastern people. It is true, the Gauls were "estern; but .we
rcad but of two incursions of theirs-the one to Gallo-Græcia,
the other to Rome; but east anò. ,vest Itayc no certain points
of heaven, and no more have the ,,'ars, either from the east or
,,-est, any certainty of observation; but north and south are
fixed; and it hath seldom or never been seen that the far
southern IJeople haye invaded the northern, but contrari,,'ise I -
w hereby it is manifest that the northern track of the ".orld is
in nature the lTIOre martial region-be it in respect of the stars
of that hemisphere, or of the great continents that are upon
the north; w!tel'eas the south part, for aught that is known, is

I Contrariwise. On the contrary. See page 77.

Essay Iviii.J

Of rrici88itudes of T1LÍl1gs.

5 0 7

alnlo
t all sea, or (which is nlost apparcnt) of the cold of the
northcrn parts, which i8 that, which, without aid of difo,cipline,
doth luake the ùoòics hardcst, and the courage warmcst.
IT pOll the brcaking and shivcring of a grcat S tate and empire,

.OU 11lay be sure to havc wars j for great elnpil'e
, while they
:stand, do ener,'ate and destroy thc forces of the nati,'c:s ,,-hich
they ha.,.e subdued, resting upon thcir own protccting forces;
and then when they fail also, aU goes to ruin, ancl they become
a prcy j so it was in the decay of the Roman ernpirc, and like-
wi
e in the ernpire of Alruaigne/ after Charles the Great, every
Lird taking a feather, and were not unlike to bcfall t0 2 Spain,
if it should break. 'fhe great accessions and unions of kingdoms
do likewise stir up wars; for when a State grows to an o,-er
power, it is like a great flood, that ,,-ill be sure to o,-erflow, as
it hath bcen seen in the States of Ronle, Turkey, Spain, and
others. Look when the world hath fewest barbarous people,
hut such as C0111nlonly willllot rnarry, or gcnerate, cxeept they
know nleans to live (as it is almost everywhere at this day,
except Tartary), there is no danger of inundations of people j
but when there be great shoals of people, ,yhich go on to popu-
late, without foreseeing lneans of life and sustentation/ it is of
:necessity that once in an age or two they discharge a portion
of their people upon other nations, which the ancient northern
people were wont to do by lot-casting lots what part :should
stay at horne, and what should seek their fortullcs. ',
hcn a
warlike State grows soft and effeminate, they may be sure of a
war; for commonly such States are grown rich in the time of
their degenerating, and so the prey inviteth, and their decay
in valonr ellcourageth a war.
.A.s for the wcapons, it hardly falleth under rule ana obserya-
tion; yet we see eyen they haye returns and vici

itudes; for

1 Almaigne. Germany.
'Then I stoutly won in fight
The Emperour's daughter of Almaigne/-Sir Guy of IJ"àncicla,'.
2 Befall to (unusual with t.o). To lW})jJen.
, Some great mischief hat h befallen,
To that meek man.'-..lIilton.
:) :-:ustentation. Sllpport. 'He (:'Ialcolm) a

jgned certain rents for the S1'S-
fentation of the canons he had placed there of the order of St. .Augustille.'-
Hulillshed.

5 08

Of TTicissiludes of Things.

[Essay I "iii.

certain it is, that ordnance was known ill the city of the Oxy-
draces in India, and was that which the
iacec1onians called
thundcr, and lightning, and magic, and it is well known that
the use of ordnance hath been in China above two thousand
years. The conditions of ,,-eapons and their improvements are,
first, the fetchingl afar off, fOl' that outruns the danger, as it is
seen in ordnance and muskets; secondly, the strength of the
percussion, ,,-herein likewise ordnance do exceed all arietations 2
and ancient inventions; the third is, the comillodious use of
thenl, as that they may serve in all ,veathers) that the carriage
may be light and nUi"nageable, and the like.
For the conduct of the war: at the first luen rested extrelnely
upon number j they did put the wars likewise upon main force
and valour, pointing 3 days for l)itched fields/ and so trying it
out upon an even mach, and they were more ignorant in
ranging and arraying thcir batt1es. 5 After, they gre,v to rest
UpOll nUlllber rather competent than vast, they gre,v to adyall.'
tages of place, cunning di \Tersions, and the like, and they grew
more skilful in the ordering of their battles.
In the youth of a State, arms do flourish, in the luiddle age
of a State, learning, and then both of them together for a tin1e;
in the declining age of a State, mechanical arts and nlerchandise.
Learning hath his infancy, ,,-hPll it is but beginning, and alnlost
childish; then his youth, when it is luxuriant and jtHTellile;
then his strength of years) "when it is solid and reduced;6 and,
lastly, hisi old age, ,vhen it waxeth dry and exhaust. 8 But it is
not good to look too long ul)on these tUl'ning wheels of vicissi-
tude, lest we hecome giddy. As for the philology of thenl, that
is ùut a circle of tales, and therefore not fit for this 'writing.

1 Fetch. To strike from a distance.
2 Arietation. The 'Use of battering-ij"am.r;.
3 Point. To appoint. See page 40 I.
4 Fielùs. Battles.

And whilst afield should be dispatch'd and fought,
You are disputing of Jour gencrals.'-Slwkespere.
5 Battles. Forces.
, \Yhat may the king's wllOle baUle reach mIto ?'-Slwkespe,,"e.
6 Reduccd. Subjected (to rule). 'The Romans reduced Spain, Gaul, and
Britain by thcir arl11s.'-Ogilvie.
ï His. Its. See page 36 I.
S Exhaust. Exlwusted. See page 7 2 .

A FR
\.G)IEXT OF
tX ESS.1\'Y ON F...\.}IE.

T IlE poets nlake Fame a monster; they describe l1cr in part
finply aud elegantly, and in part graycly and sententiou
ly;
thcy say, look how many feathcrs she hath) so many eyes she
hath underneath, so many tongues, so many voices) she pricks
up so nlany cars.
This is a flourish: there follow excellent paral)les; as tl1at
she gathereth strength in going; that she goeth upon the
ground, and yet hideth her head in the clouds; that in the
day-tinlP
he sitteth in a 'watch-to,yer, and Ricth most by night;
that she Iningleth things done with things not done; and that
she is a terror to great cities: but that which passeth all the
rest is, they do recount that the earth, mother of the giants
that Blade 'war against Jupiter, and 'were by him destroyed,
thereupon in anger brought forth Faule; for certain it is that
rebels, figured by the giants, and seditious fames l and libels,
are but brothers and sisters, masculine and fenlinine; but no,v
if a Ulan can tame this monster, and bring her to feed at the
haud, aud go\yern her, and with her fly
other ravening 3 fowl
and kill thelu, it is s0111ewhat worth. But we are infccted with
the style of the poets: To speak now in a sad" and serious
nlanner, there is not in all the politics a place less handled, and
l110re worthy to be handled, than this of fame; we will there-
fore 8pcak of these points; what are false fanles, and what are
true fames, and how they may be best discerned, 5 how fames
may be sown and raised, how' they may be spread and multi-
plied, and how they may be checked and laid dead, and other

1 Fames. Reports; '1'wnours. See page II9.
2 Fly. To fly at; to attack.
, Fly everything you see, and censure it freely.'-Ben Jonson.
3 Hayening. Predatory; rapacious. '.As a ravening and roaring lion.'-
Ps. xxii. 13. 4 Sad. Grat.e.
C A sad, wise valour is thE' brave complexion
That leads the van.'-Herbert.
5 Discerned. Distinguished. ' Then shalt thou return, and discern between
the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth
Him Ilot.'-JIal. iii. 18.

5 10

A FragmÆnt of an Essay on FaJíze.

things concerning the nature of fan1e. Faine is of that force,
as l there is scarcely any great action ,vherein it hath not a great
part, especially in the war. j\I ucianus undid 2 'Titellius by a
fan1e that he scattered, that 'Titellius had in purpose to n10ye
the legions of Syria into Germany, and the legions of Germany
into Syria; whereupon the legions of Syria were infinitcly
inflamed. 3 Julius Cæsar took Pompey unprovided, and laid
asleep his industry and preparations by a fame that he CUll-
ningly gave out, how Cæsar's own soldiers loved him not; aHd
being 'wearied with the 'Yars, and laden ,vith the spoils of Gaul,
would forsake him as soon as he came into Italy.4 Liyia
settled all things for the succession of her son rriherius) by
continually giving out that her husband Augustus was upon
l'ecovery and amendment;5 and it is a usual thing with the
basha,ys to conceal the death of the Great Turk froill the
janizaries and men of 'war, to save the sacking of Constantinople,
and other to'VllS, as their manner is. Themistocles l11ade
Xerxes, I(ing of Persia, post apace 6 out of Grecia,i by gi'Ting
out that the Grecians had a purpose to break his bridge of
ships ,yhich he had made athwart 8 the Hellespont. 9 There be
a thousand such like examples) and the more they are, the less
they need to be repeated, because a man meeteth with then1 e'Tery-
'where; ,vherefore, let all ,yise governors have as great a ,yatch
and care over fames, as they have of the actions and designs
themsel ves.

1 As. That. See page 22.
2 U lldid. Ruined. (Not so frequently used in this sense as are the other
tenses of the verb' to undo.')
"Vhere, with like haste, through several ways they run,
Some to undo, and some to be undone.'-Denham.
3 Tacit. Hist. ii. 80. 4 Cæs. de Bell. Civ. i. 6.
5 Tacit. Ann. i. 5.
6 Apace. Speedily.
, Ay, quoth my uncle Glo'ster,
Small herbs have grace, great weeùs do grow apace;
And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast,
Because sweet flowers are slow, and weeds make haste.'-Shake.t;pere.
7 Orecia. Greece. 'Through his riches he shall stir up all against the realm
of Grecia.'-Dan. xi. 2.
8 Athwart. .Across.

, Exe('rable Shape!
That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance
Thy miscreated frout atltU:art my waj".'-Milton.
9 Vide Herod. viii. 108, 109.

J.lnnotatlolis.

51 I

ANKOT...\.TIOXS.

[This Essay is reckoned a fragment, as it is supposed Bacon must have writtcn
much more on the subject; but it is complete as far as it goes; and there are
many of the other Essay::, that would bave borne to be much enlarged.]

'Falne is of tllat force as there is scarcely allY great actioll
'lvlwrein it hath not a great part, as . a Ulan
'lueetetlt with tlten
everywhere.'

By fame, Bacon means what ,ve call 'rel)ort,' or 'rumour,'
or the French O/
dit.
One remarkable instance of the effects produced by rumours
might be added to those Bacon mentions. 'Vhen Buonaparte'8
return from Elba was plotted, his partisans went all about
France, pretending to seck to purchase land; and when in
treaty for a field, and seelningly about to close the bargain,
they inquired about the title; and when they found, as they
generally did, that it ,vas land which had been confi.ç;cated at the
Revolution, they broke off at once, declaring that the title 'was
insecure: thus spreading throughout France the notion that the
Bourbons meditated the rcsuml)tion of all those lands-the chief
part of France-to restore thenl to the former owners. And thus,
nlost of the proprietors were eager for their downfall.
Some ren1arks on political predictions, already l1}ade in my
notes on the essay of 'Prophecies,' might come in under this
head.

'Let all 'wise governors have as great a watch and care orer
faJJws as they have of the actions and designs theulselz:es.'

The necessity of this watchfulness from the effects produced
by then1 seems to have been recognised at a vcry early period
in our legislative history. 'Ye ha,-e before noticed a statute
respecting them made in the reign of Edward the First. It
enacts that ' forasmuch as there haye been oftentimes found in
the country Dcvisors of Tales, ".hereby discord [or occasion] of
discord hath arisen lnany times between the King and his
people, or great 11len of this reahll; for the damage that hath

5 1 2

A Fragnzent of all Essay on Falne.

and may thereof ensue; it is cOlnmanded, that from henceforth
llone be so hardy to tell or publish any false news or tales,
whereby discol'd, or [matter] of discord or slander may gro,v
between the King and his people, or the great men of the
realm; and he that doth so shall be taken and kept in prison,
until he hath brought him into the Court which ,vas the first
,,,hich did speak the same.'-3 Edw. T. Stat. TfTest'Jnonast. 1,
c. XXXIV.
The framing and circulating of 'politic fames' might have
been set down by Bacon as one of the points of cunning.

TIlE PRAISE OF !{NO'VLEDGE.

S ILE
CE wcre the best celebration of tllat which I mean to
commend j for who would not use silence, where silence is
not made? and what crier can make silence in such a noise and
tnn1ult of vain and popular opinions? ]\1:y praise shall be
dcdicatcd to the n1Înc1 itself. rrhe mind is the man, and the
knowledge of the mind. A man is but what he knoweth. The
mind itself is but an accident to knowledge, for knowledge is
a douhle of that which is. The truth of being, and the truth of
knowing, is all one; and the pleasures of the affections greater
than the pleasu!'es of the senses. And are not the pleasures of the
intellect greater than the pleasures of the affections? Is it not
a true and only natural plcasure, whcreof thel'e is no satiety?
Is it not knowledge that doth alone clear the mind of all per-
turbations? How many things are there ,vhich we imagine not!
I-Iow many things do we esteem and value otherwise than they
arc! This ill-prol)ortioned estin1ation, these vain imaginations,
these be the clouds of error that turn into the storn1S of pertur-
bation. Is there any such happiness as for a man's mind to be
raised above the confusion of things, where he may haye the
l)l'ospect of the order of nature, and the error of men? Is this
but a vein only of delight, and not of discovery?-of content-
ment, and not of benefit? Shall we not as well discern the
riches of nattlre's warehouse as the benefit of her shop? Is
truth ever bal'l'ell? Shall he not be able thcreby to produce
worthy effects, and to endow the life of man with infinite com-
modities? But shall I make this garland to be put upon a
"rong head? ,V oulcl any body believe me if I should verify
this, upon the knowledge that is now in use? ..Are we the richer
lJY one poor lllvention, by reason of all the learning that hath
bcen these many hundred years? The industry of artificers
maketh some small impro,-eluent of things inyented; and chance
sometinles, in experimenting, 1 ulaketh us to stumble upon some.

1 Experinwllt. '1'0 'make experiments. '.Francisco HClli, by expe,"imen,lillg,
f()UllÙ t
:at . . . .'-Rug_

L L

5]4

Tile Prúise of ](nowh:rlge.

'vhat which is new; but all the disputation of the learned ncycr
hrought to light one eífcct of nature before unknown. 'Vhcn
things are known and found out, then they can descant upon
them, they can knit them into certain causes, they can reduce
them to their IJrinciples. If any in8tance of experience stand
against them, they can range it in order by some distinctions.
But all this is but a ,yeb of the wit; 1 it can ,york nothing. I
do not doubt but that COlTIlnOn notions, ,vhich we can reason,
and the knitting of them together, ,yhich ,ve call logic, are thc
art of reason and studics. But they rathcr cast obscurity, than
gain light t0 2 the contemplation of nature.
All the philosophy of nature which is now reccived, is either
the philosophy of the Grecians, or that of the alchemists. That
of the Grecians hath the foundations in ,vords, in ostentation,
in confutation, in sects, in schools, in disputations. The Gre-
cians 'were, as one of themselyes saith, you Grecians, ever
clzildren. 3 They kne"
little antiquity; they knew, except
fables, not much above fi,Te hundred years hefore then1selyes.
They knew but a small portion of the world. That of the
alchemists hath the foundation in imposture, in auricular tradi.
tions and obscurity. It was catching hold of religion, but the
principle of it is, Populus vult decipi. 4 80 that I kno,v no
great difference between these great philosophcrs, but that the
one is a loud crying folly, and the other is a whispering folly.
The one is gathered out of a few vulgar observations, and the
other out of a few experimcnts of a furnace. The one ncver
faileth to multiply ,yords, and the other evcr faileth to multiply
gold. 'Vho ,,"ould not smile at Aristotle, ,vhen he admireth
the eternity and invariableness of the heavens, as there werc
not the like in the bowels of the C'arth? Those be the confines
and borders of these t\yO kingdon1s, 'where the continual altera-
tion and incursion are. The superficies and upper parts of the
earth are full of varieties. The superficies and lower parts of
the heavens, ,vhich we call the middle region of the air, are full
of variety. Thcre is much spirit in the one part that cannot
be brought into mass. Therc is nluch lTIassy body in the other

1 \Yit. Intellect. ,"Till puts in practice what the 'wit dcviseth.'-Davies.
2 To. For. See pnge 2 17.
3 Plato. See Advrzncmnent qf Lerrrning, Book 1.
4 , The people 'wish to be deceiced.'

The Pt"ai...;e of Knoll'ledge.

5 1 5

l)lacc that cannot be rcfincd to spirit. rrhe common all' IS as
the wastc ground bctween the borùcrs. 'Vho ,,-oulù not snÜle
at the astl'OnOlTIerS, I nlcan not thcse fcw carmen which drive
thc cal'th ahout/ hut the ancicnt astronon1crs, which fcign the
n100n to he the swiftest of the planets in Inotion, and the rcst
in ordcr, the highcr the slowcr; and so are compclled to ima-
ginc a double motion; ,,,'hereas how evident is it, that that
which they call a contrary n10tioll, is but an abatenlcnt of
n1otion? rrhe fixcd stars overgo 2 Saturn, and so in the}n aud
the rest, all is but one ulotion, anù the nearer the earth the
slower-a motion also whcrcof air and ,vater do participate,
thcugh much intcrrupted.
TIut why do I in a conference of pleasure enter into these
great matters, in sort 3 that prctcnùing to know much, I
should forget" hat is seasonable'( Pardon me, it was because
all things 11lay be endowed and adorncd with speeches, but
knowledge itself is more beautiful than any apparel of words
that can be put upon it. And let 110t me seem arrogant
.without respect to thcse great reputed authors.. Let me so
give eycry Ulan his due, as I give Tinle his duc, which is
to discover truth.
Iany of these Dlen had greater wits,
far above Dline own, and so are many in the universities of
Europe at this day. But, alas! they learn nothing there
but to believe; first to believe that others know that which
they know not; and aftcr, themselves kllO\V that which thcy
kno\v not. But, indeed, facility to belie\ye J impatience to doubt,
tenlerity to answer, glory to know, doubt to contradict, eud to
gain, sloth to scarch, seeking things in words, resting in part of
nature; these, and the like, have bcen tLe things ,vhich have
forbidden the happy match between the mind of man and the
nature of things, and Ín place thcreof have n1arrieù it to vain

1 Pr0baùlya sneer at COlJerllicus. His di
pc1rage1llellt of him, I ha\e allUlh:ù
to in the Preface.
2 Overgo. To paò's m'eì".
, How many weary steps
Of many wenJ'
' miles JOu have ú'er!Jolle,
Are numbered in the travel of one mile.'-Shalcespere.
3 In sort. In such a manner. ' Plower!:! worn in such sort can neither he seen
,\ell, 1101' hUlelt hy those that wear them.'-llooker.
, Ld's 011 our wß) in silcnt 8ort.'-Shalcespere.

5 16

The Praise of Knowledge.

notions and blind experiments; and what the posterity and
issue of so honourable a match may be, it is not hard to
consider.
Printing, a gross 1 invention; artillery, a thing that lay not
far out of tl1e way; the needle, a thing partly known before:
'what a change have these three made in the ,yol'ld in these
times; the one in state of learning, the other in state of the
war, the third in the state of treasure, commodities, and nayi-
gation ! And those, I say, ,vel'e but stumbled upon and lighted
upon by chance. Therefore, no doubt, the soyereignty of ßlan
lieth hid in kno,vledge; ,vherein many things are reseryed,
,vhich kings with their treasure cannot buy, nor with their
force comn1and; their spials 2 and illtelligencers can give no
news of them, their seamen and discoyel'ers cannot sail where
they grow; now we govern nature in opinions, but ,ve are thralP
unto her in necessity; but if we ,vould be led by her in inven-
tion, we should command her in action.

A
TITHETA.

. PRO.
'Ea demum voluptas est secundum
naturam, cuj us non est satietas.
, The only pleasu.re
vhich can be con r
formable to nature is that which knows
no satiety.'

:I: :if: :I: *
'Omlles affectus pravi, falsæ estima-
tiones sunt i atque eadem sunt bonitas
et veritas.
'Bad tendencies are, in fact, false
judgments qf things; for truth and
goodness are the same.'

CONTRA.
'Contemplatio, speciosa inertia.
'Contemplatioí
is a specious indo-
lence.'

'Bene cogitare, non multo melius
est, quam bene somniare.
, Thinking well is not very different
front dreaming
()ell.'

1 Gross. Probably palpably ob1'Ío'lls; ,\' hich it was (as has been above remarked)
as soon as a cbeap paper was invented.

Spials. Scoutò'.
'For he by fait.hful spials was a
sur'd
That Eg
'pt's king was forward on his way/-Fairfax.
a Thrall. Slave.
, No thralls like them tbat inward bondage have.'

Annotation.
.

5 1 7

ANNOT.A.TIOXS.

No bettcr annotation can be givcn than in Bacon's own
words,-l The 111istakillg or n1Ïsplacing of the last or farthest
end of knowledge, is the greatest error of all the rest: For, n1Cll
h1.ve entered into a desire of learning and knowledge, sometimes
upon a natural curiosity, and inquisitive appetite; sometimes
to entertain their minds with variety and delight; sometimes
for ornalnent and reputation; and sometimes to enable them to
yictol'Y of wit and contradiction; and most times for lucre and
profession ;-but seldom sincerely to give a true account of theÍl"
gift of reason, to the benefit and use of 111en: As if there were
sought in knowledge, a couch whereupon to rest a searching
and restless spirit; or a telTas for a wandering and variable
mind to walk up and down with a fair pl'ospect; or a tower of
state for a proud mind to raise itself upon; or a fort or com-
nlanding ground for strife and contention; or a shop for profit
or sale j-and not a rich store-house for the glory of the Creator,
and the relicf of man's estate.'l

1 Advancement cif Lea,'niJl[J.

INfJEX.

}::-:SAY OF
Adrersity .
Ambition .
Anger
_\.thei
m
Beauty
TIolùness .
Building
Cer{,ll1onies and Respects .
Chi1dren (and Parents)
Counsel
Cunning'
CustOlll anù Education
Death
Deformity.
Ddays
DiRcourse .
nispatch .
Education (Custom and) .
Empire
]
n\y .
Expense
Faction
Fame, Fragment of an E

ay on
Follow-erg and Friends
Fortune
Friendship
Gardens
Glory, of Vain .
Goodness, and Goodness of
aturp .
Great Place
IIealth, ne
i1l1en
IIononr and Reputation
Innovations
J udic
lture
Kingdoms and Estates, the True Greatness of .

P\.GE

47
. 349
. 497
135
. 395
10 4
. 399
4 6 3
66
18 3
19 8
. 3 60
13
. 397
19 2
. 3 0 9
23 6
. 3 60
17 8
7

2G6
. 4 61
. 5 0 9
. 4 2 5
. 374
24 8
. 4 0 4
. 477
10 7
h7
29 0
. 4 80
21 7
4 88

27'2

5'1,0

ESSAY OF
I{nowledge, the Praise of .
Love .
1\1 an's Self, 'Visdom for a
l\Iarriage and Single Life.
1\fasques and Tl'iun1phs
Nature in :1\Ien .
K egotiating
Nobility
Parents and Children
Plantations
Praise
rrophecies
Revenge
niches
Seditions and Troubles
Simulation and Dissimulation .
Single Life
Studies
Suitors
Superstition
Suspicion .
Things, .Vicissitudes of
TraT"el
Tru th
Unity in Religion
U SUl'Y
Youth and Age
Wise, Seenling .
'Visdolll for one's Self

I KDEX.

FAGE
5 1 3
83
210
7 0
. 35 2
35 6
. 4 12
114
66
3 18
4 6 7
34 2
4 1
33 1
119
58
70
43 2
. 4 2 9
14 8
293
. 5 0 3
173
I

19
. 379
. 3 86
24 2
210

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