THE WORKS
FRAl^CIS BACON,
LORD CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND.
WITH A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR
BY
BASIL MONTAGU, ESQUIRE.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. in.
NEW YORK ;
R. WORTHINGTON, 770 BROADWAY.
1884.
JAN 2 9 I960
CONTENTS OF VOL. III.
Page
H'r-flTKO FROM THE CABALA.
Sir ^.auris Bacon to the Lord Treasurer, con-
cerning the solicitor's |)Iace 1
to the Lord Treasurer Burghiey 1
to the Lord Treasurer Burghiey 2
Mr. Anthony Bacon to the Earl of Esaex 3
The Earl of Essex's answer 4
Sir Francis Bacon to the Earl of Sali3bury, con-
cerning the solicitor's place 5
to the Earl of Essex, when Sir Robert Cecil
was in France 5
to the Earl of Essex, concerning the Earl of
Tyrone 6
to the Earl, before his going to Ireland 6
to the Earl of Essex, after his enlargement. . . 8
in recommendation of his service to the Earl
of Northumberland, a few days before Queen
Elizabeth's death 8
to Mr. Robert Kempe, upon the death of Queen
Elizabeth 9
to Mr. David Foules in Scotland, upcn the en-
trance of his majesty's reign 9
to Sir Robert Cecil, after defeat of the Spa-
niards in Ireland, for reducing that kingdom
to civility, with some reasons enclosed 9
to the Lord Treasurer, touching his speech in
Parliament 9
to Mr. Matthew, upon sending his book De
Sapientia Veterum 10
to the King, touching matter of revenue and
profit 10
to the King, touching the lord chancellor's
place 10
to the King, of my lord chancellor's amend-
ment, and the difference begun between the
Chancery and King's Bench 11
to Sir George Villiers, touching the difference
between the Courts of Chancery and King's
Bench 12
to the King, concerning the prcmuniro in the
King's Bench against the Chancery 12
Lord Chancellor Bacon to the King, upon some
Tafo
inclination of his majesty's, signified to
him, for the chancellor's place 14
Lord Chancellor Bacon to Sir George Villiers, of
advice concerning Ireland, from Gorham-
bury to Windsor 15
to the Earl of Northumberland 16
to the King 16
Sir Francis Bacon, the king's attorney, returned
with postils of the king's own hand 18
to the Master of the Horse, upon the sending
of his bill for viscount, sc 19
to Sir George Villiers, upon the sending his
patent for Viscount Villiers to be signed. . 20
to the King, about a certificate of my Lord
Coke's 20
to Mr. Toby Matthew 21
to the Earl of Salisbury 21
to the King 21
to the King 22
to the King 22
to the King, upon the sending unto him a
beginning of a History of His Majesty's
Time 23
to the Lord Chancellor, touching the History
of Britain 23
to the King, about the pardon of the Parlia-
ment's sentence 24
to the King, upon presenting his discourse
touching the plantation of Ireland 24
to the Earl of Salisbury, upon sending him
oneofhisBooksof Advancement of Learn-
ing 25
The Lord Chancellor Bacon to the Lords 25
to the Duke 26
Sir Francis Bacon to the Lord Treasurer Buck
hurst, upon the same occasion, of sending
his book of Advancement of Learning. . . 26
of the like argument, to the Lord Chan
cellor 28
of the like argument, to the Earl of North-
ampton, with request to present the book
to his majesty 87
ill
17
CONTENTS.
Page
Sir Francis Bacon's letter of request to Doctor
Playfer, to translate the Book of Advance-
ment of Learning into Latin 27
to Sir Thomas Bodley, upon sending him his
Book of the Advancement of Learning. ... 27
Sir Thomas Bodley to Sir Francis Bacon, upon
his new philosophy 2S
8ii Francis Bacon to the Bishop of Ely, upon
sending his writing intituled, Cogitata et
Visa 30
to Sir Thomas Bodley, after he had imjiarted
to him a writing intituled, Cogitata et Visa 31
to Mr. Matthew, upon sending him part of
Instauratio Magna 31
to Mr. Matthew, touching Inslauratio Magna 31
to the King, touching the solicitor's place. . . 32
to the King, his suit to succeed in the attor-
ney's place 32
to Sir George Gary in France, upon sending
him his writing ; " In felicem Memoriam
Elizabeth®" 33
to the King 33
to the Lord Kinloss, upon the entrance of King
James 34
to the Earl of Northumberland, concerning a
proclamation upon the king's entry 34
to Sir Edward Coke, expostulatory 34
to Sir Vincent Skinner, expostulatory 35
to the Lord Chancellor 35
to the King 36
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO,
*iOrd Bacon to Queen Elizabeth, upon the send-
ing of a new-year's gift 37
to Queen Elizabeth, upon the sending of a
new-year's gift
Answer of my Lord of Essex to the letter of Mr.
Bacon, p. 8
Lord Bacon, commending his love and occasions to
Sir Thomas Challoner, then in Scotland,
upon his majesty's entrance 37
to Mr. Davis, then gone to the king, at his
first entrance 38
to Mr. Faules, 28 Martii, 1603 38
to the Earl of Southampton, upon the king's
coming in 38
to the Earl of Northumberland, after he had
been with the king. 38
to Mr. Pierce, Secretary to the Deputy of Ire-
land 39
to the Earl of Salisbury, of courtesy upon a
new-year's tide 39
of thanks to the king, upon Mr. Attorney's
sickness 39
37
37
P.'.ge
Lord Bacon to my Lord Mayor, upon a proceed-
ing in a private cause 39
to my Lord Treasurer Salisbury, upon a new-
year's tide 40
to his Majesty, concerning Peacham's cause,
January 21, 1614 40
to the King, touching Peacham's cause, Janu-
ary 27, 1614 40
reporting the state of my lord chancellor's
health, January 29, 1614., 41
to the King, giving him an account of Peach-
am's business, and some others, January
31, 1614 42
to the King, touching my lord chancellor's
amendment, and the putting off I. S, his
cause, February 7,1614 43
to the King, of account of Owen's cause, etc.
11 February, 16J4 44
to the King, reporting the day of hearing of
I. S. his cause, in the Star Chamber. 29
April, 1615 44
to the King, concerning the New Company,
August 12, 1615 45
to Sir George Villiers, touching Roper's place,
.January 22, 1615 .. 45
to the King, advising how to break off with the
New Company. February 3, 1615 46
to the King, touching the lord chancellor's
sickness, February 9, 1615 46
to Sir George Villiers, touching a motion to
swear him councillor. February 21, 16 15 47
to the King, of advice upon the breach of the
New Company, February 25, 1615 4Y
to Sir George Villiers, touching a motion to
swear him councillor. February 27, 1615 48
to Sir George Villiers, touching his swearing
councillor. May 30, 1616 48
to Sir George Villiers, upon the choice his
majesty gave him, whether he would be
sworn councillor, or have assurance to suc-
ceed the chancellor. June 3, 1616 19
to his very honourable good friend. Sir George
Villiers, Master of the Horse to his Majesty,
and of the most noble Order of the Garter.
June 12, 1616 19
to Sir George Villiers, for the restoring of
Doctor Burgis to preach. June 12, 1616. 49
to the King, touching Sir George Villiers's
patent for Baron of Bletchley and Viscount
Villiers. August 12, 1616 49
to Sir George Villiers, upon the sending of his
patent for the creation of viscount. Sealed
August 20, 1616 50
to Sir George Villiers, acknowledging tho
CONTENTS.
Page
50
50
king's favour in granting some suit of his,
August 22, 1610
lord Bacon to the University of Cambridge, in
answer of their congratulation at his first
coming to that place
ICing James to his Lordship, when he was lord
chancellor, witli his majesty's own hand,
upon the sending to him his Book of Instau-
ratio Magna, then newly published 50
S'l'iT Francis Bacon to my Lord of Essex. ...... 51
to my Lord of Essex 51
to my Lord of Essex 51
to Sir Robert Cecil 51
to Sir John Stanhope 51
to my Lord of Essex 52
to the Lord Treasurer 52
to Foulk Grevil 52
\/o the Lord Treasurer Burghley 53
to my Lord of Essex 53
to Sir Thomas Luc-y 53
to Sir Robert Cecil, at his being in France. . . 54
to the Queen 54
to Sir Robert Cecil 55
Efirl of Essex to the Queen, written by Mr. Bacon C)5
Mr. Bacon to my Lord of Essex 55
to Sir Robert Cecil 55
to the Queen 5o
to the Queen 56
to my Lord Hen. Howard 56
Pari of Essex to the Council, at his embarking for
Spain. June, 1596 56
Mr. Bacon to my Lord of Essex 50
to Sir Robert Cecil 61
to my Lord of Essex 61
to my Lord of Essex 62
to my Lord of Canterbury 62
to my Lord of Essex 62
63
191
LETTERS FROM THE BACONL\NA.
Lord Bacon to the University of Cambridge
to the University of Cambridge, when he was
sworn of the privy council to the king
to the Queen of Bohemia, in answer to one
from her majesty, and upon sending to her
his book about a war with Spain 63
to the University of Cambridge, upon his send-
ing to their public library his book of the
Advancement of Learning 63
to the University of Cambridge, upon hi« send-
ing to their public library his Novum Or-
ganum 64
to the Trinity College in Cambridge, upon his
sending to them his book of the Advance-
men of Learning 64
rag«
Lord Bacon to Dr. Williams, then Lord Bishop of
Lincoln, concerning his speeches, etc 04
' in Latin, to Father Fulgentio, the Venetian,
concerning his writings ; and now trans-
lated into English by the publisher 64
/ in French, to the Marquess Fiat, relating to
his essays 65
From the University of Oxford to the Lord Bacon,
upon his sending to them his book De Aug-
mentis Scientiarum 65
Dr. Roger Maynwaiing to Dr. Rawley, concern-
ing the Lord Bacon's Confession of Faith. 66
Dr. Rawley to Monsieur Deodate, concerning his
publishing of the Lord Bacon's works 67
Monsieur ^lius Deodate, to Dr. Rawley, in an-
swer to his of March the 9lh, 1632, touch-
ing his publishing the Lord Bacon's works 67
Mr. Isaac Gruter, to Dr. Rawley, concerning the
MSS. of the Lord Bacon 68
to Dr. Rawley, concerning the writings of the
Lord Bacon 69
to Dr. Rawley, concerning the writings of the
Lord Bacon 70
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
From Sir Francis Bacon, to Mr. Matthew
to Mr. Matthew
to Mr. Matthew
to Sir Henry Saville
to Sir George Villiers
to the King
to the Lord Viscount Villiers
to the Lord Viscount Villiers
to the Lord Viscount Villiers
to the Lord Viscount Villiers
to the Lord Viscount Villiers
to the Earl of Buckingham, on the same day
Sir Francis Bacon was made lord keeper of
the great seal
to the Earl of Buckingham
to the Earl of Buckingham
to the King
to the Earl of Buckingham
to the Earl of Buckingham
to the King
to the Earl of Buckingham
to the Earl of Bristol
to
to the Marquis of Buckingham.
to the Earl of Buckingham
to the Earl of Buckingham
to the Earl of Bucking^^m. . . .
to the Earl of Buckingham. . . .
to the Earl of Buckingham. . . .
a2
CONTENTS.
Page
From Sir Francis Bacon to the Marquis of Buck-
ingham 81
to the King 82
to the Marquis of Buckingham 83
to the Marquis of Buckingham 83
to the Marquis of Buckingham 83
to the Marquis of Buckingham 84
vo the Marquis of Buckingham 84
to the Marquis of Buckingham 84
to the Marquis of Buckingham 85
to the Marquis of Buckingham 85
to the Marquis of Buckingham 85
to the Marquis of Buckingham 86
to the Marquis of Buckingham 86
to the Marquis of Buckingham 87
to the King 87
to the Marquis of Buckingham 87
to the Marquis of Buckingham 88
to Sir Henry Wotton 88
to the Marquis of Buckingham 88
to the Marquis of Buckingham 90
to the Marquis of Buckingham 90
to the Earl of Arundel and Surrey 91
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
Mr. Francis Bacon to Sir John Puckering, lord
keeper of the great seal 91
to Sir Thomas Egerton, lord keeper of the great
seal 91
to Sir Robert Cecil, secretary of state 92
to Mr. Secretary Cecil 92
to Robert, Lord Cecil 93
to Robert, Lord Cecil 93
to the King, immediately after my lord trea-
surer's decease 93
to the King, immediately after the lord trea-
surer's death 94
to the King 94
to the King 94
to the King 95
to the King 90
to the King 96
to Mr. Murray 97
to Sir George Villiers 97
M'. Tobie Matthew to Sir Francis Bacon, attorney-
general 97
to Sir Francis Bacon, attorney-general 98
to Sir Francis Bacon, attorney-general 99
to Sir Francis Bacon, attorney-general 99
Sir Francis Bacon to the King 100
llictiard Martin, Esq. to Sir Francis Bacon 100
Sir George Villiers to Sir Francis Bacon, attorney-
general 101
Sir Edmund Bacon to Sir Francis Bacon, attor-
ney-general. ^ 101
Page
Sir Francis Bacon to the King 101
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Keeper 102
The Lord Keeper to his Niece, touching her mar-
riage.
102
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Keeper 103
to the Lord Keeper 103
to the Lord Keeper 103
to the Lord Keeper 1 03
to the Lord Keeper 104
Sir Francis Bacon to the Earl of Buckingham. . 104
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Keeper 104
Sir Francis Bacon to the Lord Viscount Fenton. 104
To the Lord Keeper, written from Scotland, June
28, 1618 105
Sir Francis Bacon to the Earl of Buckingham ... 106
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Keeper. . . IOC
to the Lord Keeper 107
Sir Francis Bacon to the Earl of Buckingham. . . 107
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Keeper. . . 107
Sir Francis Englefyld to the Ijord Keeper 107
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Keeper. . . 108
to the Lord Keeper 108
to the Lord Keeper 1 08
to the Lord Keeper 108
Sir Francis Bacon to the Earl of Buckingham. . 108
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Keeper. . . 109
to the Lord Keeper 109
Sir Francis Bacon to the Earl of Buckingham. . 109
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Keeper . . 110
to the Lord Keeper, Sir Francis Bacon 110
to the Lord Keeper Ill
to the Lord Keeper Ill
Sir Francis Bacon to the Earl of Buckingham. . Ill
to the Earl of Buckingham 11)
to Sir James Fullerton Ill
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Chamber-
lain m
to the Lord Chamberlain 112
Sir Francis Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 112
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Chancellor 1 12
to the Lord Chancellor 112
to the Lord Chancellor 113
to the Lord Chancellor 113
Sir Francis Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 113
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 114
to the Lord Chancel'or , 114
to the Lord Chancellor 114
Sir Francis Bacon to the Lord Chancellor of Ire-
land 113
to the Lord Chief Justice of Ireland 114
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 114
to the Lord Chancellor 114
Tobie Matthew to the Lord Chancellor 114
CONTENTS.
Page
Sir Francis Bacon to Mr. (afterwards Sir) Isaac
Wake, his majesty's agent at the court of |
Savoy 115
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan- j
cellor 115 !
Sir Francis Bacon 1o the Marquis of Buckingham 1 15
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 115
to the Lord Chancellor 116
to the Lord Chancellor 116
to the Lord Chancellor 116
Sir Francis Bacon to tlie Marquisof Buckingham 116
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 116
Sir Francis Bacon to the Marquisof Buckingham 117
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 117
Sir Francis Bacon to the Lady Clifford 118
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor lis
to the Lord Chancellor 118
Tobie Matthew to the Lord Chancellor 118
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 118
to the Lord Chancellor, and Sir Lionel Tan-
field, Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer. . 118
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 119
to the Marquis of Buckingham 119
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 119
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 119
to the Marquis of Buckingham 120
to the Marquis of Buckingham 120
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 1 20
to the Lord Chancellor 120
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 121
to the Marquis of Buckingham 121
to the Ma-quis of Buckingham 121
The Marquis of Buckingham to tho Lord Chan-
cellor 121
to the Lord Chancellor 122
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 122
to the Marquis of Buckingham 122
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 122
to the Lord Chancellor 123
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 123
to the Marquis of Buckingham 123
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 124
to the Lord Chancellor 124
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 124
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 126
Lord Bacon to Mr, Secretary Calvert
to the King
Tobie Matthew to the Lord Chancellor
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham
t to the Marquis of Buckingham
Tobie Matthew to the Lord Chancellor
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor
to the Lord Chancellor
to the "King
to the Lord Chancellor
Lord Bacon to the King
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor
to the Lord Chancellor
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham
to the King, thanking his majesty for his gra-
cious acceptance of his book
to the Marquis of Buckingham
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham
to the Marquis of Buckingham
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor
to the Lord Chancellor
to the Lord Chancellor. . ^^
Lord Bacon to the King
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham
to the King
to the Marquis of Buckingham
to the Chancellor of the Duchy, Sir Hum-
phrey May
to the Marquis of Buckingham
to the Marquis of Buckingham
to the Prince
to the King
to the King
Dr. Williams, Bishop of Lincoln, elect, and Lord
Keeper of the Great Seal, to the Viscount
Alban
Lord Bacon to the Lord Keeper
Petition of the Lord Viscount St. Alban, intended
for the House of Lords
Lord Bacon to John Lord Digby
The Marquis of Buckingham to the liord Viscount
St. Alban
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham ... .
Thomas Meautys, Esq. to the Lord Viscount St.
Alban
125
125
126
127
127
127
12R
128
128
128
128
129
129
130
130
120
131
131
131
131
132
132
132
)33
133
133
133
134
134
135
135
135
136
13f)
l.!6
137
13 V
13?
138
138
lo8
13!J
CONTENTS
Page
Thomas Meautys, Esq. to the Lord Viscount St.
Alban 139
to the Lord Viscount St. Alban 140
Lodowic Stuart, Duke of Lenox, to the Lord Vis-
count St. Alban 140,
Answer of the Lord Viscount St. Alban 140
Lurd Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 140
to the Marquis of Buckingham 141
Thomas Meautys, Esq., to the Lord Viscount St.
Alban 141
to the Lord Viscount St, Alban 141
lord Bacon to Henry Gary, Lord V>scount Falk-
land 142
to the Lord Treasurer 142
to the Lord Treasurer 142
Thomas Meautys, Esq. to the Lord Viscount St.
Alban 143
Lord Bacon to Thomas Meautys, Esq 143
to Mr. Tobie Matthew 143
1o the Queen of Bohemia 144
Sii Edward Sackville to the Lord Viscount St.
Alban 144
Lord Bacon to the Lord Keeper, Bishop of Lin-
coln 145
to the Marquis of Buckingham 145
T. Meautys to the Lord Viscount St. Alban 145
Lord Bacon to the Countess of Buckingham, mo-
ther to the Marquis of Buckingham 146
to tlie Marquis of Buckingham 146
T. Meautys to the Lord Viscount St. Alban 146
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 146
to the Marquis of Buckingham 147
Jo. Lincoln, C. S. to the Lord Viscount St. Alban 147
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingharn 147
to the Marquis of Buckingham 147
to Sir Francis Cottington, secretary to the
prince 148
to the King 148
to Mr. Secretary Conway 148
to the Marquis of Buckingham, in Spain. . . . 148
to Mr. Secretary Conway 149
to the Earl of Bristol, Ambassador in Spain. . 149
to Sir Francis Cottington, secretary to the
prince 1 49
to Mr. Tobie Matthew 149
to the Duke of Buckingham 150
Duke of Buckingham to the Lord Viscount St.
Alban 150
Lord Bacon to the Duke of Buckingham, in Spain 150
to Mr. Tobie Matthew 151
to Mr. Tobie Matthew 151
to Mr. Tobie Matthew....,, 151
to the Duke of Buckingham 151
to the Duke of Buckingham 151
to Mr. Tobie Matthew 152
Page
Minutes of a letter from Lord Bacon to the Duke
of Buckingham 153
Lord Bacon to the King 152
to the Prince 152
to the Duke of Buckingham 153
to the Duke of Buckingham 154
to the Earl of Oxford 154
to Sir Francis Barntiam 155
to the Duke of Buckingham 155
to the Duke of Buckingham 155
to Sir Richard Weston, chancellor of the ex-
chequer 155
to the Duke of Buckingham 156
to the Duke of Buckingham 156
to the Chancellor of the Duchy, Sir Hum-
phrey May 15ra
to Sir Robert Pyc 156
to the Earl of Dorset 156
Sir Thomas Coventry, attorney-general, to the
Lord Viscount St. Alban 157
Lord Bacon to Mr. Roger Palmer 157
to the Duke of Buckingham 157
to Sir Humphrey May, Chancellor of the
Duchy of Lancaster 158
to the Marquis d'Effiat, the French ambassa-
dor 1 58
to King James 1 1 58
to the King 158
to the Marquis of Buckingham 1 59
to the Marquis of Buckingham 159
Draught of a letter to the Marquis of Bucking-
ham, not sent 159
to the Marquis of Buckingham 159
to the Marquis of Buckingham 159
Lord Bacon to Mr. Tobie Matthew 160
to Mr. Tobie Matthew IGO
Tobie Matthew to the Lord Viscount St. Alban. . 160
Lord Bacon to the liord Archbishop of York. ... 160
minute of a letter to the Count Palatine of the
Rhine 161
LETTERS FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
Mr. Bacon to Lady Burghley, to speak for him to
her lord 161
to Lord Burghley, to recommend him to the
queen 161
to the Right Honourable the Lord Treasurer. 162
to Sir Robert Cecil, knight 162
to Mr. Michael Hickes, secretary to the lord
high treasurer 162
to the Lord High Treasurer 163
to Mr. Henry Maynard, and Mr. Michael
Hickes , 163
to Lord Burghley 1 64
to Mr. Michael Hickes 164
CONTEiNTS.
Pago
Mr. Bacon to the Earl of Salisbury 164
to Mr. Michael Hickes 164
to Mr. Michael Hickes 164
to Sir Robert Cotton 165
to Sir Michael Hickes 165
to Sir Michael Hickes 165
to Sir Michael Hickes 1 65
to Sir Robert Cotton 165
to Sir Michael Hickes 165
to Sir Michael Hickes. 166
to his very loving friend, Mr. John Murray, of
his majesty's bed-chamber 166
From the University of Cambridge to the Right
Honourable Sir Francis Bacon, knight, his
majesty's attorney-general, and one of his
honourable privy council 166
From Sir Francis Bacon to the right worshipful
the Vice-Chancellor and others, the Mas-
ters, and the Heads of the Houses of the
University of Cambridge 166
From the University of Cambridge 167
Lord Bacon to my Lord of Buckingham, touching
Mompesson's business of inns 167
to my Lord of Buckingham, touching Mom-
pesson's business, the maltsters, &c 1G7
From his Majesty to Lord Bacon, touching the
business of the mint 167
Lord Bacon to my Lord Buckingham 168
to my very loving, friends, the Mayor, &c., of
Cambridge 168
to the Lord President of York, in favour of Mr.
Johns, for the secretary's place at York. . . 168
to Mr. Matthew 168
to my Lord Treasurer Lea 169
LETTERS FROM THE LAMBETH LIBRARY.
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 169
Edward Franklin to Lord St. Alban 169
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 169
'J\ Meautys to Lord St. Alban 170
Lord Bacon to Count Gondomar 1 70
to his very loving friends, the parishioners and
feoffees of the poor of the Parish of St. All-
dotls, in Oxford 171
LETTERS FROM MALLET.
Sir Francis Bacon to the Lord Viscount Villiers. 171
to the Earl of Buckingham 171
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Chancellor 171
Lord Bacon to my very loving friends Sir Thomas
Leigh and Sir Thomas Puckering, knights
and baronets 1 72
to the Marquis of Buckingham 172
to the Marquis of Buckingham 172
to the Duke of Buckingham 172
The Duke of Buckingham to the Lord St. Alban 173
Vol. IlL— a
Pagd
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
Sir Francis Bacon to the King 173
Sir George Villiers to Sir Francis Bacon, his ma-
jesty's attorney-general 1 73
Sir Francis Bacon to the Earl of Buckingham. . . 173
to the Eari of Buckingham 174
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Keeper. . . 174
to the Lord Keeper 1 74
Sir Francis Bacon to the Earl of Buckingnam. . 174
The Privy Council to the King 175
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Chancellor 175
to the Lord Chancellor 175
Sir Francis Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 176
to the Marquis of Buckingham 176
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 1 76
Sir Francis Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 176
Lord Bacon, Montagu, and Yelverton, to the King 177
Sir Francis Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 177
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 1 77
to the Lord Chancellor 177
to the Lord Chancellor 178
to the Lord Chancellor 178
Sir Francis Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 178
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 178
Sir Francis Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 178
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 1 79
Sir Francis Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 179
to the Marquis of Buckingham 179
to the Marquis of Buckingham 179
to the Marquis of Buckingham 17^
to the Marquis of Buckingham 180
to the King 180
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 1 80
to the Lord Chancellor ISO
Sir Francis Bacon, Montagu, Coke, Hobarte, and
Crew to the Marquis of Buckingham 181
Sir Francis Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 1 8 1
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor 182
to the Lord Chancellor 182
Lord Bacon to the Right Honourable his very
good lords, the Lords Spiritual and Tempo-
ral, in the Upper House of Parliament as-
sembled 182
to the King j S'^
to the King 1 8;i
to the Prince of Wales 1 83
to the King. 184
to the Marquis of Buckingham 184
to the King 1 84
CONTENTS.
Page
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord St. AI-
ban 184
Lord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 185
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord St. Al-
ban 185
to the Lord St. Alban 185
to the Lord St. Alban 185
185
18G
186
189
189
I ord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham
to the King
to the Lord Digby
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord St. Al-
ban 186
I ord Bacon to the Marquis of Buckingham 180
to the Duke of Buckingham 187
The Duke of Buckingham to the Lord St. Alban 187
to the Lord St. Alban 187
Lord Bac.in to the Duke of Buckingham 188
The Duke of Buckingham to the Lord St. Alban 188
Lord Bacon to the Duke of Buckingham 188
The Duke of Buckingham to the Lord St. Alban 188
Jo. Lircoln to the Lord St. Alban 188
LETTERS FROM MATTHEWS.
Sir Francis Bacon desiring a friend to do him a
service
to a friend about reading and giving judgment
upon his writings
to the same person, upon the like subject ; with
an addition of condoling the death of a
friend., 189
to a friend, in reflection upon some astrolo-
gers in Italy 190
The Lord of St. Albans, Bacon, to an humble ser-
vant, my lord believing his own danger to
be much less than he found it 190
My Lord of St. Albans, Bacon, to the same hum-
ble servant, employing him to do a good
office with another great man 190
The Lord of St. Alfcans to a most dear friend, in
whom he notes an entireness and impatient
attention to his service 191
to the Lord Treasurer Marlborough, expostu-
lating about his unkindness and injustice. . 191
Sir Francis Bacon *p a servant of his, in expres-
sion of great acknowledgment and kindness 191
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
The Lord Bacon, his letter to the most illustrious
and most excellent Prince Charles, Prince
of Wales, Duke of Cornwall, Earl of Ches-
ter, &c 191
Mr. Francis Bacon to Mr. Robert Cecil 192
to the Right Honourable his very good Lord,
the Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, &c 192
Earl of Essex to the Right Honourable my very
good Lord, the Lord Keeper. ] 92
Pagt
Mr. Francis Bacon to the Rijht Honourable his
very good Lord, the Lord Keeper of the Great
Seal 192
to the Right Honourable, &c.,the Lord Keeper 192
Earl of Essex to the Lord Keeper Puckering. ... 193
Mr. Francis Bacon to the Right Honourable the
Lord Keeper, &c 1 93
to the Right Honourable the Lord Keeper, &c. 193
to the Right Honourable his very good Lord,
the Lord Keeper, &c 193
to the Right Honourable the Lord Keeper, &c. 193
Sir Francis Bacon to Sir George Villiers 194
to the Marquis of Buckingham 194
Mr. Francis Bacon to the Right Honourable the
Lord Keeper, &c 191
to the Right Honourable the Lord Keeper, &c. 195
to the Right Honourable the Lord Keeper, &c. 195
to the Right Honourable the Lord Keeper, &c. 195
to the Right Honourable, my good Lord, the j
Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of Eng- "^ '
land 195
to the Right Honourable the Lord Keeper, &c. 196
to the Right Honourable the Lord Keeper, &c. 196
The Earl of Essex to the Right Honourable the
Lord Keeper, &c 196
to the Right Honourable the Lord Keeper, &c. 196
Mr. Francis Bacon to Dr. Morrison, a Scottish
physician, upon his majesty's coming in. . . 197
to Mr. Murray, of the king's bedchamber. ... 197
to Mr. Matthew 197
to my Lady Packington, in answer to a mes-
sage by her sent 197
to Sir Thomas Bodelej', after he had imparted
to him a writing, entitled Cogitata et Visa. 198
to the King 1 98
to King James 198
to Sir George Villiers, on sending his bill for
viscount 199
King James to our trusly and well-beloved Tho-
mas Coventry, our attorney-general 200
Mr. Francis Bacon to the Earl of Essex 200
The Earl of Essex to Mr. Francis Bacon 200
Lord Treasurer Burghley to Mr. Francis Bacon. 201
Sir Robert Cecil to Mr. Francis Bacon 20 1
Mr. Francis Bacon to the Queen 201
to Robert Kemp, of Gray's Inn, Esq, 20 I
to the Earl of Essex 202
The Earl of Essex to Mr. Francis Bacon 203
to Mr. Francis Bacon 203
Mr. Francis Bacon to the Earl of Essex 203
to Sir Robert Cecil 203
Sir Robert Cecil to Mr. Francis Bacon 204
The Earl of Essex to Mr. Francis Bacon 204
to Mr. Francis Bacon 204
Foulke Grevill, Esq.. to Mr. Francis Bacon 201
CONTKNTS.
Pape j
Mr. Francis Bacon to the Queen 205 |
to his brother Antony 205
The Earl of Essex to Mr. Francis Bacon 205
Mr. Francis Bacon to his brother Antony 205
to Sir Robert Cecil, a copy of which was sent
with the preceding to Mr. Antony Bacon. . 206
to Sir Thomas Egerton, lord keeper of the
great seal 207
Mr. Francis Bacon to the Earl of Essex, on his
lordship's going on the expedition against
Cadiz 209
The Earl of Essex to Mr. Francis Bacon 209
Mr. Francis Bacon to his brother Antony 210
Mr. Francis Bacon's letter framed for my Lord of
Essex to the Queen 210
Mr. Francis Bacon to Sir John Davis, his majes-
ty's attorney-general in Ireland 211
8ir Francis Bacon to the reverend University of
Oxford 211
Lord Keeper Bacon to Mr. Maxey, fellow of Tri-
nity College, Cambridge 211
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Keeper Bacon 211
Lord Bacon to Henry Cary, Lord Viscount Falk-
land 212
Secretary Conway to the Lord Viscount St. Alban 212
Mr. Francis Bacon to the Lord Treasurer 212
to Sir Francis Vere 212
to Mr.Cawfielde 213
Lord Bacon to Mr. Tobie Matthew 213
to my Lord Montjoye 213
The Marquis of Buckingham to the Lord Chan-
cellor and the Lord Mandeville, Lord Trea-
surer of England 213
Sir Francis Bacon to the Reverend University of
Oxford 213
The Earl of Buckingham to the Lord Keeper Bacon 2 14
Sir Francis Bacon to Lord Norris, in answer to him 214
to the King 214
The Lord Chancellor and two Chief Justices to
the Marquis of Buckingham 214
Sir Francis Bacon to King James 216
Lord Bacon to the Count Gondomar, Ambassador
from the Court of Spain 216
to Count Gondomar 217
to Count Gondomar, then in Spain 217
LAW TRACTS.
THE ELEMENTS OF THE COMMON LAWS OF
ENGLAND.
The Maxims of the Law.
Regula
1. In jure non remota causa, sed proxima
spectatur ^ 223
S. Non potest adduci exceptio ejusdem rei,
cujus petitur dissolutio 224
3 Verba fortius accipiuntur contra proferentem 225
Repula Pa^B
4. Qui)d sub certa forma conccssum vel reser-
vatum est, non trahitur ad valorem vel
compensationern 229
5. Necessitas inducit priviiegium quoad jura
privata 229
6. Corporaiis injuria non recepit ajstimationem
defuturo 231
7. Excusat aut extenuat delictum in capitali-
bus, quod non operatur idem in civilibus 231
8. jEstimatio prajterili delicti ex post facto
nunquam crescit 232
9. Quod remedio dcstituitur ipsa re valet, si
culpa absit 232
10. Verba generalia restringantur ad habilita-
tem rei vel persona; 234
11. Jura sanguinis niiilo jure civili dirimi pos-
sunt 235
12. Recedituraplacitisjurispotiusquam injuria,
ne delicta maneant impunita 235
13. Non accipi debent verba in demonstratio-
nem falsam, quae competunt in limita-
tionem veram 236
14. Licet dispositio de inleresse futuro sit inu-
tilis, tamen potest fieri declaratio pra3ce-
dens qua3 fortiatur effectum interveniente
novo actu 237
15. In criminalibus sufficit generalis malitiain-
tentionis cum facto paris gradus 238
16. Mandata licita recipiunt strictam interpre-
tationem, sed illicita latam et extensivam 238
17. De fide et officio judicis non recipitur qutcs-
tio, sed de scientia, sive error sit judicis
sive facli 2i
18. Persona conjuncta £equiparatur intercsse
proprio 239
19. Non impcdil clausula derogatoria qua mi-
nus ab eadem potestate res dissolvantur
a quibus constituuntur 240
20. Actus inceptus, cujus perfectio pendet ex
voluntate partium revocari potest, si
autem pendet ex voluntate terlias personae
vel ex contingenti, revocari non potest. . 241
21. Clausula vel dispositio inutilis per prse-
sumptionem remotam vel causam ex post
facto non fulcitur 2 13
22 Non videtur consensum retinuisse, si quis
ex prffiscripto minantis aliquid immutavit 214
23. Ambiguitas verborum latens verificatione
suppletur, nam quod ex facto oritur ambi-
guum verificatione facti tollitur 244
24. Licita bene misccntur, formula nisi juris
obstet.... 245
25. Praesentia corporis toUit errorem nominis,
et Veritas nominis tollit errorem demon
strationis 341
CONTENTS.
Page
Ths Use of the Law : photidf-d for preserva-
tion OF ALL Persons, Goods, and Good
Names.
What the Use of the Law principally consisteth
in 247
Surety to keep the peace 247
Action of the case, for slander, battery, &c. . . . 247
Appeal of murder given to the next of kin 247
Manslaughter, and when a forfeiture of goods,
and when not 248
Felo de se, felony by mischance, deodand 248
Cutting out of tongues, and putting out of eyes,
made felony 248
The office of the constable 248
Two high constables for every hundred, and
one petty constable for every village 248
The King's Bench first instituted, and in what
matters they anciently had jurisdiction. . . 248
The court of Marshalsea erected, and its juris-
diction within twelve miles of the chief tun-
nel of the king, which is the full extent of
the verge 248
Sheriff's Tourn instituted upon the division of
England into counties : the charge of this
court was committed to the earl of the
same county 249
Subdivision of the county courts into hundreds 249
The charge of the county taken from the earls,
and committed yearly to such persons as
it pleased the king 249
The sheriff is judge of all hundred courts not
given away from the crown 249
County courts kept monthly by the sheriff. . . . 249
The office of the sheriff. 249
Hundred courts, to whom first granted 249
Lord of the hundred to appoint two high con-
stables 249
Of what matters they inquire of in leets and
law-days 249
Conservators of the peace, and what their office
was 249
Conservators of the peace by virtue of their
office 250
Justices of peace ordained in lieu of conserva-
tors ; of placing and displacing of justices
of peace by use delegated from the king to
the chancellor 250
The power of the justice of peace to fine the
offenders to the crown, and not to recom-
pense the party grieved 250
Authority of the justices of peace, through
whom ran all the county services to the
crown 250
BeatiniT, killing, burning of houses 250
Attachments for surety of the peace 250
Pag»
Recognisance of the peace delivered by the
justices at their sessions 250
Quarter-sessions held by the justices of peace. 250
The authority of justices of the peace out of
their sessions 250
Judges of assize came in place of the ancient
judges in eyre, about the time of K. H 251
England divided into six circuits, and two
learned men in the laws assigned by -the
king's commission to ride twice a year
through those shires allotted to that circuit,
for the trial of private titles to lands and
goods, and all treasons and felonies, which
the county courts meddle not in 251
The authority of the judges in eyre translated
by Parliament to justices of assize 251
The authority of the justice of assizes much
lessened by the Court of Common Pleas,
erected in Henry Ill's, time 251
The justices of assize have at this day five
commissions by which they sit, viz., I.
Oyer and Terminer. 2. Jail Delivery. 3.
To take assizes. 4. l^o take Nisi Priiis.
5. Of the peace 251
Book allowed to clergy for the scarcity of
them to be disposed in religious houses. . 252
The course the judges hold in their circuits in
the execution of their commission concern-
ing the taking of Nisi Priiis 253
The justices of the peace and the sheriff are to
attend the judges in their county 253
Of property of lands to be gained by entry.. 253
Jjand left by the sea belongeth to the king 253
Property of lands by descent 254
Three rules of descent 254
Customs of certain places 254
Every heir having land is bound by the bindmg
acts of his ancestors, if he be named 254
Property of lands by escheat 255
In escheat two things are to he observed 255
Concerning the tenure of lands 255
The reservations in knight's service tenure are
four 256
Homage and fealty 256
Knight's service in capite is a tenure de per-
sona regis 256
Grand serjeantry, petty serjeantry 256
The institution of soccage in capite, and that
it is now turned into moneys rents 256
Ancient demesne, what 256
Office of alienation 256
How manors were at first created 1256
Kniglit's service tenure reserved to common
persons 257
Soccage tenure reserved by the lord 257
CONTENTS
Xll}
Pape
Villenage or tenure by copy of court- roll 257
Court baron, with the use of it 257
What attainders shall give the escheat to the
lord 257
Prayer of clergy 257
He that standeth mute forfeiteth no lands, ex-
cept for treason 258
He that killeth himself forfeiteth but his
chattels 258
Flying for felony a forfeiture of goods 258
Lands entailed, escheat to the king for treason 258
A person attainted may purchase, but it shall
be to the king's use 258
Property of lands by conveyance is first distri-
buted into estates, for years, for life, in tail,
and fee simple 259
Lease for years go to the executors, and not to
i the heirs 259
Leases, by what means they are forfeitable. . . . 259
What livery of seisin is, and how it is requisite
to every estate for life 259
Of the new device, called a perpetuity, which
is an entail with an addition 2G0
The inconveniences of these perpetuities 2G0
The last and greatest estate in land is fee
simple 260
The difference between a remainder and a
reversion 260
Whatafine is 261
"What recoveries are 261
What.a use is 262
A conveyance to stand seised to a use 26 2
Of the continuance of land by will 262
Property in goods; 1. By gift. 2. By sale.
3. By stealing. 4. By waving. 5. By
straying. 6. By shipwreck. 7. By
forfeiture. 8. By executorship 264
By letters of administration 265
Where the intestate had bona notabilia in
divers dioceses, then the archbishop of
that province where he died is to commit
administration 265
An executor may refuse the executorship before
the bishop, if he have not intermeddled
with the goods 265
An executor ought to pay, 1. Judgments. 2.
Stat. Recog. 3. Debts by bonds and bills
sealed. 4. Rent unpaid. 5. Servants'
wages. 6. Head workmen. 7. Shop
book, and contracts by word 265
Debts due in equal degree of record, the execu-
tor may pay which of them he pleases
before suit be commenced 266
But it is otherwise with administrators 266
Property by legacy 266
Pai;a
Legacies are to be jiaid before debts by shuj)
books, bills unsealed, or contracts by word 26rt
An executor may pay which legacy he will first
Or if the executors do want, ihey may sell
any legacy to pay debts 266
When a will is made, and no executor named,
aJministration is to be committed cu)n tes-
tamento unnexo 266
AnnuMENTS ix Law in ckutain giikat and
DIFFICULT Cases 267
The Case of Impeachment of Waste 268
The Argument in Low's Case of Tenures 276
The Case of Revocation of Uses 2S0
The Jurisdiction of the Marches 285
TUE LEARNED ReaDINO OF Mn. FllANCIS Ba-
CON, UPON THE STATUTE OF UsES, being
his double reading to the Honourable So-
ciety of Gray's Inn, 42 Eliz 295
The Office of Constables, Oiiiginal and
Use of Court's Leet, Sheriff's Turn,
&c., with the Answers to the Questions
propounded by Sir Alexander Hay, Kiit.,
touching the Office of Constables 315
An Account of the latelt erected Ser-
vice, CALLED the OfFU'E OF Co.^IPOSl-
tions FOR Alienations 319
THE GREAT INSTAURATION OF LORD
BACON.
Editor's Preface 329
Introduction 3::!2
Dedication 333
Preface 334
Distribution of the Work 338
SECOND PART OF THE GREAT IN.STAURATION,
The Novum Organum; or, Five Scgges
tions for the Interpretation oi
Nature 343
Preface 343
Summary of the Second Part, digested in
A{)horisms 34{*
Aphorisms on the Interpretation of Nature and
the Emjjire of Man . . J4.'>
The Second Book of Aphorisms on the Inter-
pretation of Nature, or the Reign of Man 37J
A Preparation for a Natural and Expe-
rimental Histort 426
A Description of such a Natural and Experi-
mental History as shall be sufficient anil
B
xlv
COxXTENTS.
Page
suitably arranged for forming the basis and
foundation of a true philosophy 426
Aphorisms on the Formation of the first History 427
Catalogue of Particular Histories, arranged
under heads 431
THIRD PART OF THE GREAT INSTAURATION.
A Natural and Expehimkxtal History, to
serve as a Foundation for Philosophy, or
Phenomena of the Universe 434, 435
Pedication to the most illustrious and excel-
lent Prince Charles 434
The Rule of this present History 43G
The Entry into the History of Wincis 437
Particular Topics: or, Articles of Inquisition
concerning the Winds 438
The History 441
The names of winds 44 1
Free winds 44 1
General winds 44 1
Stayed or certain winds 442
Customary or attending winds. 443
The qualities and powers of winds 444
Local beginnings of winds 446
Accidental generations of winds 449
Extraordinary winds and sudden iilasts. . 449
Helps to winds ; namely, to original winds 450
The bounds of winds 452
Successions of winds 452
The motion of the winds 452
The motion of winds in the sails of ships 455
The motion of winds in other engines of
man's invention 457
Prognostics of winds 458
imitations of winds 46 1
Movable rules concerning winds 462
A human map, or optatives, with such
things as are next to them concerning
winds 463
'J'kk History of Density axd Rarity.
The entrance 464
The History of Heaty and Light.
The entrance 465
The History of the Sympathy and Anti-
pathy of Things.
The Entrance 465
The History of Sulphur, Mercury, and
Salt,
The Entrance , 466
Pag«
The History of Life and Death.
To the Reader 467
To the present Age and Posterity 467
The Preface ^ 468
The Particular Topic-Places; or, Articles of
Inquisition touching Life and Death 469
Nature durable, and not durable 470
Desiccation, prohibiting of Desiccation, and
inteneration of that which is desiccated
and dried 472
Length and shortness of life in living crea-
tures 475
Alimentation or Nourishment; and the way of
nourishing 478
Length and Shortness of Life in Man 479
Medicines for long life 488
The Intentions 4S9
I. The opeiation upon the spirits, that
they may remain youthful, and retain
their vigour 490
II. The operation upon the exclusion of
the air 495
III. The operation upon the blood, and the
sanguifying heat 4fl8
IV, The operation upon the juices of the
body 499
v. The operation upon the bowels of their
extrusion of aliment 501
VI, The operation upon the outward parts
for their attraction of aliment 504
VII. The operation upon the aliment itself,
for the insinuation thereof. 504
Vin. The operation upon the last act of assi-
milation 505
IX, The operation upon the inteneration of
that which begins to be arefied, or the
malacissation of the body 506
X. The operation upon the purging away of
old juice, and supplying of new
juice ; or of renovation by turns. . . . 508
The porches of death 508
The differences of youth and old age 511
Movable canons of the duration of life and
form of death 512
FOURTH PART OF THE GREAT INSTAURATION.
Scaling Ladder of the Intellect; or Thread
of the Labyrinth 519
FIFTH PART OF THE GREAT INSTAURATION.
Precursors; or. Anticipations of the Second
Philosophy 52]
CONTENTS.
Page
MISCELLANEOUS TRACTS, {Iranslated from
the Latin.)
The Ebb and Flow of the Sea 523
The Alphabet of Nature 530
Catalogue of Bodies attractive and not attractive 532
Inquisition of the Conversion of Bodies 533
The Masculine Birth of Time 533, 534
The History and first Inquisition of Sound and
Hearing 535
Of the generation of sound, and the first
percussion 535
Of the lasting of sound, and its perishing and
extinction 537
Of the confusion and perturbation of sounds 537
Of the accessory aids and impediments of
sound ; of the stay of sound ; and the
diversity of mediums 538
Of the penetration of sounds 538
Of the carriage of sounds, and their direction
or spreading; and of the area which
•ound fills, together and severally 539
Pag«
Of the variety of the bodies which yield
sound; and the instruments; and of
the species of sounds which occur. . , . 540
Of the multiplication, majoration, diminu-
tion, and fraction of sound 540
Of the repercussion of sounds and echo 541
Of the consents and dissents of audibles and
visibles, and of other so called spiritual
species 54 1
Of the quickness of the generation, and ex-
tinction of sound, and the time in which
they are effected 543
Of the affinity, or non-affinity, which sound
hath with the motion, local and per-
ceptible, of the air in which it is car-
ried 643
Of the communication of the air percussed
•and elided with the ambient air, and
bodies, or their spirits 544
INDEX 645
LORD BACON'S WORKS.
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE LORD TREASURER,
CONCERNING THE SOLICITOR'S PLACE.
After the remembrance of my humble duty,
though I know, by late experience, how mindful
your lordship vouchsafeth to be of me and my
poor fortune, and since it pleased your lordship,
during my indisposition, and when her majesty
came to visit your lordship, to make mention of
me for my employment and preferment ; yet being
now in the country, I do presume that your lord-
ship, who of yourself had an honourable care of
the matter, will not think it a trouble to be solicited
therein. My hope is this, that whereas your lord-
ship told me her majesty was somewhat gravelled
upon the offence she took at my speech in parlia-
ment ; your lordship's favourable endeavour, who
hath assured me that for your own part you con-
strue that I spake to the best, will be as a good
tide to remove her from that shelve. And it is
not unknown to your good lordship, that I was
the first of the ordinary sort of the Lower House
that spake for the subsidy : and that which I after
spake in difference, was but in circumstance of
time, which methinks was no great matter, since
there is variety allowed in counsel, as a discord
in music, to make it more perfect.
But I may justly doubt, her majesty's impres-
sion upon this particular, as her conceit otherwise
of my insufficiency and unworthiness, which,
though I acknowledge to be great, yet it will be
the less, because I purpose not to divide myself
between her majesty and the causes of other men,
as others have done, but to attend her business
only: hoping that a whole man meanly able, may
do as well as half a man belter able. And if her
majesty thinketh that she shall make an adven-
ture in using one that is rather a man of study
than of practice and experience, surely I may re-
member to have heard that my father, an example,
I confess, rather ready than like, was made solici-
tor of the augmentation, a court of much business,
when he had never practised, and was but twenty-
seven years old ; and Mr. Brograve was now in
my time called attorney of the duchy, when he had
practised little or nothing, and yet hath discharged
Vol. hi.— 1
his place with great sufficiency. But those and
the like things are as her majesty shall be made
capable of them ; wherein, knowing what author-
ity your lordship's commendations have with her
majesty, I conclude with myself, that the sub-
stance of strength which I may receive, will be
from your lordship. It is true, my life hath been
so private, as I have had no means to do your lord-
ship service ; but yet, as your lordship knoweth,
I have made offer of such as I could yield ; for,
as God hath given me a mind to love the public,
so, incidently, I have ever had your lordship in
singular admiration ; whose happy ability her
majesty hath so long used, to her great honour
and yours. Besides, that amendment of state or
countenance, which I have received, hath been
from your lordship. And, therefore, if your lord-
ship shall stand a good friend to your poor ally,
you shall but " tueri opus" which you have be-
gun. And your lordship shall bestow your benefit
upon one that hath more sense of obligation than
of self-love. Thus humbly desiring pardon of so
long a letter, I wish your lordship all happiness.
Your lordship's in all humbleness to be com-
manded.
Fr. Bacon.
June 6, 1595.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE LORD TREASURER
BURGHLEY.
Mv Lord,
With as much confidence as mine own honest
and faithful devotion unto your service, and your
honourable correspondence unto me and my poor
estate can breed in a man, do I commend myself
unto your lordship. I wax now somewhat ancient ;
one-and-thirty years is a great deal of sand in the
hour-glass. My health, I thank God, I find con-
firmed ; and I do not fear that action shall impair
it : because I account my ordinary course of study
and meditation to be more painful than most parts
of action are. I ever bear a mind, in some middle
place that I could discharge, to serve her majesty ;
not as a man born under Sol, thatloveth honour;
nor under Jupiter, that loveth business, for the
A I
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
contemplative planet carrielh me away wholly :
but as a man born under an excellent sovereign,
that deserveth the dedication of all men's abilities.
Besides, I do not find in myself so much self-love,
but that the greater parts of my thoughts arc to
deserve well, if I were able, of my friends, and
namely of your lordsliip ; who being the Atlas of
this commonwealth, ihe honour of my house, and
the second founder of my poor estate, I am tied
by all duties, both of a good patriot, and of an
unworthy kinsman, and of an obliged servant,
to employ whatsoever I am, to do you service.
Again, the meanness of my estate doth somewhat
move me : for though I cannot accuse myself, that
I am either prodigal or slothful, yet, vny health is
not to spend, nor my course to get. Lastly, I
confess that I have as vast contemplative ends,
as I have moderate civil ends : for I have taken
all knowledge to be my providence;* and if I
could purge it of two sorts of rovers, whereof
the one with frivolous disputations, confutations,
and verbosities : the other with blind experiments
and auricular traditions and impostures, hath com-
mitted so many spoils ; I hope I should bring in
industrious observations, grounded conclusions,
and profitable inventions and discoveries; the
best state of that providence.* This, whether it
be curiosity, or vainglory, or nature, or, if one
take it favourably, philanthropia, is so fixed in
my mind, as it cannot be removed. And I do
easily see, that place of any reasonable counte-
nance doth bring commandment of more wits than
of a man's own, which is the thing I greatly affect.
And for your lordship, perhaps, you shall not find
more strength and less encounter in any other.
And if your lordship shall find now or at any
time, that I do seek or affect any place, whereunto
any that is nearer unto your lordship shall be con-
current, say then that I am a most dishonest man.
And if your lordship will not carry me on, I will
not do as Anaxagoras did, who reduced himself
with contemplation unto voluntary poverty : but
this I will do, I will sell the inheritance that I
have, and purchase some lease of quick revenue,
or some office of gain, that shall be executed by
deputy, and so give over all care of service, and
become some sorry bookmaker, or a true pioneer
in that mine of truth, which, he said, lay so deep.
This which I have writ unto your lordship, is
rather thoughts than words, being set down with-
out all art, disguising, or reservation : w-herein I
have done honour both to your lordship's wisdom,
in judging that that will be best believed of your
lordship which is truest; and to your lordship's
Tuod nature, in retaining nothing from you. And
ftven so, I wish your lordship all happiness, and
to myself m^^ns and occasion to be added to my
feithful desire to do you service.
From my lodging at Gray's Inn.
• Trovince.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE LORD TREASURER
BURGH LEY.
My SINGULAR GOOD LoRD,
Your lurdsliip's coinfurtable relation of her
majesty's gracious opinion and meai.i) g towards
me, though at that time your leisure gave uie not
leave to show how 1 was affected therewith ; yet
upon every representation thereof it entereth and
striketh more deeply into me, as both my nature
and duty presseth me to return some speech of
thankfulness. It must be an exceeding comfort
and encouragement to me, setting forth and put-
ting myself in way towards her majesty's service,
to encounter with an example so private and do-
mestical, of her majesty's gracious goodness and
benignity; being made good and verified in my
fathej-, so far forth, as it extendeth to his posterity.
Accepting them as commended by his service,
during llie nonage, as I may term it, of their own
deserts, I, for my part, am very well content, that
I take least part, either of his abilities of mind,
or of his worldly advancement; both which he
held and received, the one of the gift of God im-
mediately, the other of her majesty's gilt ; yet, in
the loyal and earnest afl'ection which he bare to
her majesty's service, I trust my portion shall not
be with the least: nor in proportion with the
youngest birth. For methinks his precedent
should be a silent charge upon his blessing unto
us all, in our degrees, to follow him afar off, and
to dedicate unto her majesty's service both the use
and spending of our lives. True it is, that 1 must
needs acknowledge myself prepared and furnished
thereunto with nothing but with a multitude of
lacks and imperfections; hut calling to mind how
diversely, and in w^hat particular providence God
hath declared himself to tender the state of her
majesty's affairs, I conceive and gather hope, that
those whom he hath in a manner pressed foi
her majesty's service, by working and imprinting
in them a single and zealous mind to bestow their
duties therein ; he will see them accordingly ap-
pointed of sufficiency convenient for the rank and
standing where ihey shall be employed : so as,
under this her majesty's blessing, I trust to recei ve
a larger allov/ance of God's graces. And as I
may hope for this, so I can assure and promise for
my endeavour, that it shall not be in fault; but
what diligence can entitle me unto, that I doubt
not to recover. And now seeing it hath pleased
her majesty to take knowledge of this my mind,
and to vouchsafe to appropriate me unto her ser-
vice, preventing any desert of mine with her
princely liberality; first, I humbly do beseech
your lordship, to present to her majesty my more
than humble thanks for the same : and withal,
having regard to mine own unworthiness to re-
ceive such favour, and to the small possibility in
me to satisfy and answer what her majesty con-
ceiveth, I am moved to become a most humble
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
3
suitor to her majestj', that this benefit also may be
affixed unto the other ; which is, that if there
appear in me no such toward ness of service, as it
may be her majesty doth benig-nly value and assess
me at by reason of my sundry wants, and the
disadvantage of my nature, beinf^ unapt to lay
forth the simple store of those inferior gifts which
God hath allotted unto me, most to view : yet that
it would please her excellent majesty, not to ac-
count my thankfulness the less, for that my disa-
bility is great to show it ; but to sustain me in her
majesty's gracious opinion, where\ipon I only
rest, and not upon any expectation of desert to
proceed from myself towards the contentment
thereof. But if it shall please God to send forth
an occasion whereby my faithful affection may be
tried, I trust it shall save me labour for ever
making more protestation of it hereafter. In the
mean time, howsoever it be not made known to
her majpsty, yet God knoweth it, through the
daily solicitations wherewith I address myself
unto him, in unfeigned prayer, for the multiplying
of her majesty's prosperities. To your lordship,
also, whose recommendation, I know right well,
hath been material to advance her majesty's good
opinion of me, I can be but a bounden servant. So
much may I safely promise, and purpose to be, see-
ing public and private bonds vary not, but that my
service to her majesty and your lordship draw in
line. I wish, therefore, to show it with as good
proof, as I can say it in good faith, etc.
Your lordship's, etc.
two letters framed, one as from mr. an-
thony bacon to the earl of essex, the
other, as the earl's answer.
My singular good Lobd,
This standing at a stay doth make me, in my
love towards your lordship, jealous, lest you do
somewhat, or omit somewhat, that amounteth to a
new error; for I suppose, that of all former mat-
ters there is a full expiation; wherein, for any
thing which your lordship doth, I, for my part,
(who am remote,') cannot cast or devise wherein
my error should be, except in one point, which I
dare not censure nor dissuade; which is, that as
the prophet saith, in this affliction you look up
"ad manum percutientem," and so make your
peace with God. And yet I have heard it noted,
that my Lord of Leicester, who could never get
to be taken for a saint, yet in the queen's disfa-
vour waxed seeming religious. Which may be
thought by some, and used by others, as a case
resembling yours, if men do not see, or will not
see, the difference between yourtwo dispositions.
But, to be plain with your lordship, my fear rather
is, because I hear how some of your good and
wise friends, not unpractised in the court, and sup-
posing themselves not to be unseen in that deep
and inscrutable centre of the court, which is her
majesty's mind, do not onl}' toll the bell, but even
ring out peals, as if your fortune were dead and
buried, and as if there were no possibility of re-
covering her majesty's favour; and as if the best
of your condition were to live a private and retired
life, out of want, out of peril, and out of manifest
disgrace. And so, in this persuasion to your lord-
ship-wards, to frame and accommodate your ac-
tions and mind to that end; I fear, I say, that this
untimely despair may in time bring forth a just
despair, by causing your lordship to slacken and
break off your wise, loyal, and seasonable endea-
vour and industry for redintegration to her ma-
jesty's favour, in comparison whereof, all other
circumstances are but as atomi, or rather as a
vacuum, without any substance at all.
Against this opinion, it may please your lord-
ship to consider of these reasons, which I have
collected ; and to make judgment of them, neither
out of the melancholy of your present fortune
nor out of the infusion of that which cometh to
you by others' relation, which is subject to much
tincture, but " ex rebus ab ipsis," out of the nature
of the persons and actions themselves, as the
truest and less deceiving ground of opinion. For,
though I am so unfortunate as to be a stranger to
her majesty's eye, much more to her nature and
manners, yet by that which is extant I do mani-
festly discern, that she hath that character of the
divine nature and goodness, as " quos amavit,
amavit usque ad finem ;" and v/here she hath a
creature, she doth not deface nor defeat it : inso-
much as, if I observe rightly, in those persons
whom heretofore she hath honoured with her spe-
cial favour, she hath covered and remitted, not
only defections and ingratitudes in affection, but
errors in state and service.
2. If I can, scholar-like, spell and put together
the parts of her majesty's proceedings now to-
wards your lordship, I cannot but make this con-
struction : that her majesty, in her royal intention,
never purposed to call your doings into public
question, but only to have used a cloud without
a shower, and censuring them by some restraint
of liberty, and debarring from her presence. For
both the handling the cause in the Star Chamber
was enforced by the violence of libelling and ru-
mours, wherein the queen thought to have satisfied
the world, and yet spared your appearance. And
then after, when that means, which was intended
for the quenching of malicious bruits, turned to
kindle them, because it was said your lordship
was condemned unheard, and your lordship's sis-
ter wrote that private letter, then her majesty saw
plainly, that these winds of rumours could not he
commanded down, without a handling of the
cause, by making you party, and admitting your
defence. And to this purpose, I do assure your
lordship, that my brother, Francis Bacon, who is
too wise to be abused, though he be both reserved
LEITERS FROxM THE CABALA.
in all particulars more than is needful, yet in
generality lie hath ever constantly, and w ith asse-
veration, atlirmed to me, that both those days,
that of the Star Chamber, and that at my lord
keeper's, were won of the queen, merely upon
necessity and point of honour, against her own
inclination.
3. In the last proceeding, I note three points,
which are directly significant, that her majesty
did expressly forbear any point which was irrecu-
perable, or might make your lordship in any
degree incapable of the return of her favour, or
might fix any character indelible of disgrace upon
you : for she spared the public places, which
spared ignominy ; she limited the charge pre-
cisely, not to touch disloyalty, and no record re-
maineth to memory, of the charge or sentence.
4. The very distinction which was made in
the sentence of sequestration, from the places of
service in state, and leaving to your lordship the
place of master of the horse, doth, in my under-
standing, point at this, that her majesty meant to
use your lordship's attendance in court, while the
exercises of other places stood suspended.
5. I have heard, and your lordship knoweth
better, that now since you were in your own
custody, her majesty, " in verbo regio," and by
his mouth to whom she committeth her royal
grants and decrees, hath assured your lordship,
she will forbid and not suffer your ruin.
6. As I have heard her majesty to be a prince
of that magnanimity, that she will spare the
service of the ablest subject or peer, where she
shall bethought not to stand in need of it; so she
is of that policy, as she will not blaze the service
of a meaner than your lordship, where it shall
depend merely upon her choice and will.
7. I held it for a principle, that those diseases
are hardest to cure, whereof the cause is obscure;
and those easiest, whereof the cause is manifest.
Whereupon I conclude, that since it hath been
your errors in your lowness towards her majesty
which have prejudiced you, that your reforming
and conformity will restore you, so as you may
be " faber fortunae propriae."
Lastly, considering your lordship is removed
from dealing in causes of state, and left only to a
place of attendance, methinks the ambition of
any which can endure no partners in state-mat-
ters may be so quenched, as they should not
laboriously oppose themselves to your being in
court. So as, upon the whole matter, I cannot
find, neither in her majesty's person, nor in your
own person, nor in any third person, neither in
former precedents, nor in your own case, any
cause of peremptory despair. Neither do I speak
this, but that if her majesty out of her resolution
should design you to a private life, you should be
as willing, upon the appointment, to go into the
wilderness, as into the land of promise; only I
wish that your lordship will not despair, but put
trust (next to God) in her majesty's grace, and
not be wanting to yourself. I know your lord-
ship may justly interpret, that this which I per-
suade may have some reference to my particular,
because I may truly say, "tu stante non virebo,"
for I am withered in myself; but manebo, or
tenebo, I should in some sort be or hold out.
But though your lordship's years and health may
expect return of grace and fortune, yet your
eclipse for a time is an "ultimum vale" to my
fortune : And were it not that 1 desired and hope
to see my brother established by her majesty's
favour, as I think him well worthy for that he
hath done and suffered, it were time I did take
that course from which I dissuade your lordship.
Now, in the mean time, I cannot choose but per-
form those honest duties unto you, to whom I
have been so deeply bound, etc.
THE EARL OF ESSEX'S ANSWER TO MR. ANTHONY
BACON'S LETTER.
Mr. Bacon,
I thank you for your kind and careful letter,
it persuadeth that which 1 wish for strongly, and
hope for weakly, that is, possibility of restitution
to her majesty's favour; your arguments that
would cherish hope, turn into despair : you say
the queen never meant to call me to public cen-
sure, which showeth her goodness ; but you see
I passed it, which showeth others' power. I be-
lieve most steadfastly, her majesty never intended
to bring my cause to a public censure : and I be-
lieve as verily, that since the sentence she meant
to restore me to tend upon her person : but those
which could use occasions, (which it was not iii
me to let,) and amplify and practise occasions t(
represent to her majesty a necessity to bring m*
to the one, can and will do the like to stop mt
from the other. You say, my errors were my
prejudice, and therefore I can mend myself. It
is true; but they that know that I can mend my-
self, and that if I ever recover the queen, tliat I
will never loose her again, will never suffer me
to obtain interest in her favour: and you say, the
queen never forsook utterly where she hath in-
wardly favoured ; but know not whether the hour-
glass of time hath altered her; but sure I am,
the false glass of others' informations must alter
her, when I want access to plead mine own cause. I
know I oughtdoubly, infinitely to be her majpsty's,
both "jure creationis," for I am her creature: and
"jure redemptionis," for I know she hath saved
me from overthrow. But for her first love, and
for her last protection, and all her great benefits,
I can but pray for her majesty ; and my endea
vour is now to make my prayers for her and
myself better heard. For, thanks be to God, that
they which can make her majesty believe i coun-
terfeit with her, cannot make God believe that J
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
founterfeit with him ; and they that can let me
from coming near to her, cannot let me from
drawing nearer to liim, as I hope 1 do daily. For
your brother, I hohi him an honest gentleman,
and wish him all good, much rather for your sake ;
yourself, I know, hath suffered more for me, and
with me, than any friend that I have : but I can
but lament freely, as you see I do, and advise you
not to do that I do, which is, to despair. You
know letters what iiurt they have done me, and
therefore make sure of this; and yet I could not,
as having no other pledge of my love, but com-
municate openly with you for the ease of my
heart and yours.
Your loving friend,
R. Essex.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE EARL OF SALISBURY,
CONCERNING THE SOLICITOR'S PLACE.
May it please your Lordship,
I am not privy to myself of any such ill de-
serving towards your lordship, as that I should
think it an imprudent thing to be a suitor for your
favour in a reasonable matter, your lordship being
to me as (with your good favour) you cannot
cease to be : but rather it were a simple and arro-
gant part in me to forbear it.
It is thought Mr. Attorney shall be chief justice
of the Common-place; in case Mr. Solicitor rise,
I would be glad now at last to be solicitor: chiefly
because I think it will increase my practice, where-
in God blessing me a few years, I may mend my
state, and so after fall to my studies and ease; where-
of one is requisite for my body, and the other
serveth for my mind; wherein if I shall find your
lordship's favour, I shall be more happy than I
have been, which may make me also more wise.
I have small store of means about the king, and
to sue myself is not fit; and therefore I shall leave
it to God, his majesty, and your lordship : for I
nrust still he next the door. I thank God, in these
transitory things I am well resolved. So, beseech-
ing your lordship not to think this letter the less
humble, because it is plain, I rest, etc.
Fr. Bacon.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE EARL OF ESSEX,
WHEN SIR ROBERT CECIL WAS IN FRANCE.
My SINGULAR Goon Lord,
I do write, because I have not yet had time
fully to express my conceit, nor now, to attend
you touching Irish matters, considering them as
they may concern the state ; that it is one of the
aptest particulars that hath come, or can come
upon the stage, for your lordship to purchase
honour upon, I am moved to think for three
reasons; because it is ingcnerate in your house in
respect of my lord your father's noble attempts ;
because, of all the accidents of state at this time,
the labour resteth upon that most; and because
the world will make a kind of comparison be-
tween those that set it out of frame, and those that
shall bring it into frame : which kind of honour
giveth the quickest kind of reflection. The trans-
ferring this honour upon yourself consisteth in two
points : the one, if the principal persons employed
come in by you, and depend upon you; the other
if your lordship declare yourself to undertake a
care of that matter. For the persons, it falleth
out well that your lordship hath had no interest in
the persons of imputation : For neither Sir Wil-
liam Fitz-Williams, nor Sir John Norris was
yours: Sir William Russel was conceived yours,
but was curbed : Sir Coniers Clifford, as I con-
ceive it, dependeth upon you, who is said to do
well ; and if my Lord of Ormond in this interim
do accommodate well, I take it he hath always
had good understanding with your lordship. So
as all things are not only whole and entire, but of
favourable aspect towards your lordship, if you
now choose well : wherein, in your wisdom, you
will remember there is a great difference in choice
of the persons, as you shall think the affairs to in-
cline to composition, or to war. For your care-
taking, popular conceit hath been, that Irish
causes have been much neglected, whereby the
very reputation of better care will be a strength :
and I am sure, her majesty and my lords of the
council do not think their care dissolved, when
they have chosen whom to employ; but that they
will proceed in a spirit of state, and not leave the
main point to discretion. Then, if a resolution be
taken ; a consultation must proceed ; and the
consultation must be governed upon information to
be had from such as know the place, and matters
in fact ; and in taking of information I have always
noted there is a skill and a wisdom. P'or I can-
not tell what account or inquiry hath been taken
of Sir William Russel, of Sir Ralph Bingham, of
the Earl of Thomond, of Mr. Wilbraham: but I
am of opinion, much more would be had of them,
if your lordship shall be pleased severally to con-
fer, not obiter, but expressly, upon some caveat
given them to think of it before, for, " bene docet
qui prudenter interrogat." For the points of op-
posing them, I am too much a stranger to the busi-
ness to deduce them : but in a topic methinks the
pertinent interrogations must be either of the
possibility and means of accord, or of the nature
of the war, or of the reformation of the particular
abuses, or of the joining of practice witli force in
the disunion of the rebels. If your lordship doubt
to put your sickle in other men's harvests, yet
consider you have these advantages. First, timo
being fit to you in Mr. Secretary's absence : next,
"vis unita fortior :" thirdly, the business being
mixed with matters of war, it is fittest for you :
lastly, I know your lordship will carry it with that
modesty and respect towards aged dignity, and
2
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
that good correspondence towards my dear ally,
and your good friend, now abroad, as no incon-
venience may grow that way. Thus have I play-
ed the ignorant statesman, which I do to nobody
but your lordship, except I do it to the queen
sometimes, when she trains me on. But your
lordship will accept my duty and good meaning,
and secure me touching the privateness of that 1
write.
Your lordship's to be commanded,
Fr. Bacon.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE EARL OF ESSEX,
CONCERNING THE EARL OF TYRONE.
Those advertisements which your lordship im-
parted to me, and the like, I hold to be no more
certain to make judgment upon than a patient's
water to a physician : therefore for me upon one
water to make a judgment, were indeed like a
foolish bold mountebank, or Dr. Birket, yet, for
willing duty's sake, I will set down to your lord-
ship what opinion sprung in my mind upon that I
read. The letter from the council there, leaning
to distrust, I do not much rely upon, for three
causes. First, because it is always both the grace
and the safety from blame of such a council to err
in caution : whereunto add, that it may be they,
or some of them, are not without envy towards
the person who is used in treating the accord.
Next, because the time of this treaty hath no show
of dissimulation, for that Tyrone is now in no
streights, but like a gamester that will give over
because he is a winner, not because he hath no
more money in his purse.
Lastly, I do not see but those articles whereon
they ground their suspicion, may as well proceed
out of fear as out of falsehood, for the retaining of
the dependence of the protracting the admission
of a sheriff, the refusing to give his son for hostage,
the holding from present repair to Dublin, the re-
fusing to go presently to accord, without includ-
ing O'Donnell, and others his associates, may
very well come of a guilty reservation, in case he
should receive hard measure, and not out of
treachery; so as if the great person be faithful,
and that you have not here some present intelli-
gence of present succours from Spain, for the ex-
pectation whereof Tyrone would win time, I see
no deep cause of distrusting the cause if it be
good. And for the question, her majesty seemeth
to me a winner three ways : first, her purse shall
liave rest: next, it will divert the foreign designs
unon that place: thirdly, though her majesty is
iike for a time to govern precario in the north, and
he not in true command in better state there than
before, yet, besides the two respects of ease of
charge, and advantage of opinion abroad, before
mentioned, she shall have a time to use her
princely policy in iwo points : in the one, to
weaken by division and disunion of the heads,
the other, by recovering and winning the people
by justice, which of all other causes is the best.
Now for the Athenian question, you discourse
well, "Quid igitur agendum est]" I will shoot
my fool's bolt, since you will have it so. The
Earl of Ormond to be encouraged and comforted
above all things, the garrisons to be instantly pro-
vided for; for opportunity makes a thief: and if
he should mean never so well now, yet such an
advantage as the breaking of her majesty's garri-
sons, might tempt a true man. And because he
may as well waver upon his own inconstancy, as
upon occasion, and want of variableness is never
restrained but with fear, I hold it necessary to be
menaced with a strong war; not by words, but by
musters and preparations of forces here, in case
the accord proceed not; but none to be sent over,
lest it disturb the treaty, and make him look to be
overrun as soon as he hath laid down arms. And,
but that your lordship is too easy to pass, in such
cases, from dissimulation to verity, 1 think, if
your lordship lent your reputation in this case, it
is to pretend, that if not a defensive war, as in
times past, but a full reconquest of those parts of
the country be resolved on, you would accept the
charge, I think it would help to settle him, and
win you a great deal of honour gratis. And that
which most properly concerneth this action, if it
prove a peace, I think her majesty shall do well
to cure the root of the disease, and to profess by a
commission of peaceable men chiefly of respect
and countenance, the reformation of abuses, extor-
tions and injustices there, and to plant a stronger
and surer government than heretofore, for the ease
and protection of the subject; for the removing of
the sword, or government in arms, from the Earl
of Ormond, or the sending of a deputy, which
will eclipse it, if peace follow, I think unseasona-
ble. Lastly, I hold still my opinion, both for
your better information, and your fuller declara-
tion of your care, and evermore meriting service,
that your lordship have a set conference with the
persons I named in my former writing. I rest.
At your lordship's service,
Fr. Bacon.
ANOTHER TO THE EARL BEFORE IIIS GOING TO
IRELAND.
My singular good Lord,
Your note of my silence in your occasions hath
made me set down these few wandering lines, as
one that would say somewhat, and can say nothing
touching your lordship's intended charge for Ire-
land ; which my endeavour I know your lordship
will accept graciously and well, whether your
lordship take it by the handle of the occasion
ministered from yourself, or of the affection from
I which it proceedeth. Your lordship is designed
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
to a service of great merit and great peril ; and
us the greatness of the peril must needs include
no small consequence of peril, if it be not tem-
perately governed ; so all immoderate success
extinguisheth merit, and stirreth up distaste and
i?nvy, the assured forerunner of whole changes of
peril. But I am at the last point first, some good
spirit kadiug my pen to presage your lordship's
success ; wherein it is true, I am not without my
oracle and divinations, none of them superstitious,
and yet n^t all natural : for, first, looking into the
course of God's providence in things now depend-
ing, and calling into consideration how great
things God hath done by her majesty, and for her
collect he hath disposed of this great dissection
in Ireland, whereby to give an urgent occasion to
the reduction of that whole kingdom, as upon the
rfbellion of Desmond there ensued the reduction
of that province. Next, your lordship goeth
against three of the unluckiest vices of all other,
disloyalty, ingratitude, and insolence; which
three offences in all examples have seldom their
doom adjourned to the world to come. Lastly, he
that shall have had the honour to know your lord-
ship inwardly, as I have had, shall find "bona
exta," whereby he may better ground a divination
of good, than upon the dissection of a sacrifice.
But that part I leave, for it is fit for others to be
eonfident upon you, and you to be confident upon
the cause, the goodness and justice whereof is
such as can hardly be matched in any example,
it being no ambitious war of foreigners, but a
recovery of subjects, and that after lenity of con-
ditions often tried ; and a recovery of them not
only to obedience, but to humanity and policy,
from more than Indian barbarism. There is yet
another kind of divination familiar in matters of
state, being that which Demosthenes so often
relieth upon in his time, where he sailh, that
which for the time past is worst of all, is for the
time to come the best, which is, that things go ill
not by accident but by error; wherein though
your lordship hath been a waking censor, yet, you
must look for no other now, but " medice, cura
teipsum ;" and although your lordship shall not
be the blessed physician that cometh to the de-
clination of the disease, yet, you embrace that con-
dition which many noble spirits have accepted for
advantage, which is, that you go upon the greater
peril of your fortune, and the less of your reputa-
tion; and so the honour countervaileth the adven-
ture; of which honour your lordship is in no
small possession, when that her majesty, known
to be one of the most judicious princes in discern-
ing of spirits that ever governed, hath made choice
of you merely out of her royal judgment, (her
affection inclining rather to continue your attend-
ance,) into whose hands and trust to put the com-
mandment and conduct of so great forces, the
gathering in the fruit of so great charge, the exe-
cution of so many councils, the redeeming of the
defaults of so many former governors, add the
clearing the glory of so many happy years' reign,
only in this part excepted. Nay, farther, how far
forth the peril of that state is interlaced with the
peril of England; and, therefore, how great the
honour is to keep and defend the approaches of
this kingdom, I hear many discourse; and indeed
there is a great difference, whether the tortoise
gather herself into her sliell hurt or unhurt; and
if any man be of opinion, that the nature of an
enemy doth extenuate the honour of a service,
being but a rebel and a savage, I differ from him ;
for I see the justest triumphs that the Romans in
their greatest greatness did obtain, and that
whereof the emperors in their styles took addi-
tions and denominations, were of such an enemy ;
that is, people barbarous, and not reduced to
civility, magnifying a kind of lawless liberty,
prodigal of life, hardened in body, fortified in
woods and bogs, placing both justice and fecility
in the sharpness of their. swords. Such were the
Germans and ancient Britons, and divers others.
Upon which kind of people, wiiether the victory
be a conquest, or a reconquest upon a rebellion or
revolt, it made no difference that ever I could find,
in honour. And, therefore, it is not the enriching
the predatory war that hath the pre-eminence in
honour ; else should it be more honour to bring in
a carrack of rich burden, than one of the twelve
Spanish apostles. But then this nature of people
doth yield a higher point of honour (considering
in truth and substance) than any war can yield
which should be achieved against a civil enemy,
if the end may be — '-pacique imponere morem,"
to replant and refound the policy of that nation,
to which nothing is wanting but a just and civil
government. Which design, as it doth descend
to you from your noble father, (who lost his life
in that action, though he paid tribute to nature,
and not to fortune,) so I hope your lordship shall
be as fatal a captain to this war, as Africanus was
to the war of Carthage, after that both his uncle
and his father had lost their lives in Spain in the
same war.
Now, although it be true, that these things
which I have writ (being but representations
unto your lordship of the honour and appearance
of success and enterprise) be not much to the
purpose of my direction, yet, it is that which is
best to me, being no man of war, and ignorant in
the particulars of state : for a man may by the
eye set up the white right in the midst of the butt,
though he be no archer. Therefore I will only
add this wish, according to the English phrasn,
which termeth a well-wishing advice a wish,
that your lordship in this whole action, lookinii
forward, set down this position ; that merit is
worthier than fame ; and looking back hither,
would remember this text, that " obedience is
better than sacrifice." For designing to fame
and glory may make your lordship, in the adveu
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
ture of your person, to be valiant as a private
soldier, rather than as a general ; it may make
you in your commandments rather to be gracious
than disciplinary; it may make you press action,
m the respect of the great expectation conceived,
rather hastily than seasonably and safely ; it may
make you seek rather to achieve the war by force,
than by mixture of practice; it may make you
(if God shall send you prosperous beginnings)
rather seek the fruition of the honour, than the
perfection of the work in hand. And for your
proceeding like a good Protestant, (upon warrant,
and not upon good intention,) your lordship
knoweth, in your wisdom, that as it is most fit
for you to desire convenient liberty of instruction,
so it is no less fit for you to observe the due
limits of them, remembering that the exceeding
of them may not only procure (in case of adverse
accident) a dangerous disavow, but also (in case
of prosperous success) be subject to interpreta-
tion, as if all was not referred to the right end.
Til us I have presumed to write these few lines
to your lordship, " in methodo ignorantise," which
is, when a man speaketh of any subject not
according to the parts of the matter, but accord-
ing to the model of his own knowledge : and
most humbly desire your lordship, that the weak-
ness thereof may be supplied in your lordship, by
a benign acceptation, as it is in me by my best
wishing.
Fr. Bacon.
SIR FRANCIS BACON, TO THE EARI, OF ESSEX
AFTER HIS ENLARGEMENT.
My Lord,
No man can expound my doings better than
your lordship, which makes me need to say the
less; only I humbly pray you to believe that I
aspire to the conscience and commendation of
"bonus civis" and "bonus vir;" and that though
I love some things better, I confess, that I love your
lordship ; yet, I love few persons better, both for
gratitude's sake, and for virtues, which cannot
hurt, but by accident. Of which my good affec-
tion it may please your lordship to assure your-
self, of all the true effects and offices that I can
yield : for as I was ever sorry your lordship
should fly with waxen wings, doubting Icarus's
fortune; so, for the growing up of your own
feathers, be they ostriches or other kind, no man
shall be more glad; and this is the axle-tree,
whereupon I have turned, and shall turn. "Which
Having already signified unto you by some near
•neans, having so fit a messenger for mine own
letter, I thought good to redouble also by writing.
And so I commend you to God's protection.
From Gray's Lin, etc.
Fr. Bacon.
July la. reoo.
SIR FRANCIS BACON IN RECOMMENDATION OP
HIS SERVICE TO THE EARL OF NOKTHUMHER.
LAND, A FEW DAYS BEFORE QUEEN ELIZA-
BETH'S DEATH.
May it please your good Lordship.
As the time of sowing of seed is known, buf
the time of coming up and disclosing is casual,
or according to the season; so I am a witness to
myself, that there hath been covered in my mind
a long time a seed of affection and zeal towards
your lordship, sown by the estimation of your
virtues, and your particular honours and favours,
to my brother deceased, and to myself; which
seed still springing, now bursteth forth into this
profession. And, to be plain with your lordship,
it is very true, and no winds or noises of civil
matters can blow this out of my head or heart,
that your great capacity and love towards studies
and contemplations, of a higher and worthier
nature than popular, a nature rare in the world,
and in a person of your lordship's quality almost
singular, is to me a great and chief motive to
draw my affection and admiration towards you:
and, therefore, good my lord, if I may be of any
use to your lordship by my head, tongue, pen,
means, or friends, I humbly pray you to hold me
your own : and herewithal, not to do so much dis-
advantage to my good mind, nor partly, to your
own worth, as to conceive, that this commenda-
tion of my humble service produceth out of any
straits of my occasions, but merely out of an
ehction, and indeed, the fulness of my heart.
And so, wishing your lordship all prosperity, I
continue.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO MR. ROBERT KEMPE,
UPON THE DEATH OF QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Mr. Kempe, this alteration is so great, as you
might justly conceive some coldness of my affec-
tion towards you, if you should hear nothing from
me, I living in this place. It is in vain to tell
you, with what a wonderful still and calm this
wheel is turned round, which, whether it be a
remnant of her felicity that is gone, or a fruit of
his reputation that is coming, I will not deter-
mine; for, I cannot but divide myself, between
her memory and his name. Yet, we account it
but as a fair morn before sunrising, before his
majesty's presence ; though, for my part, I see
not whence any weather should arise. The
Papists are contained with fear enough, and hope
too much. The French is thought to turn his
practice upon procuring some disturbance in
Scotland, where crowns may do wonders. But
this day is so welcome to the nation, and the time
so short, as I do not fear the effect. My Lord of
Southampton expecteth release by the next de-
spatch, and is already much visited, and nnu-li
well wished. There is continual posting, by
men of good quality towards the king, the rather.
le:tters from the cabala.
1 think, because this sprincrtime it is but a liind
ot" sport. It is hoped, th.it as the state here hath
performed the part of good attorneys, to deliver
the kin^ quiet possession of his kingdom; so the
king will redeliver them quiet possession of iheir
places, rather filling places void, than removing
men placed.
So, etc.
BIR FRANCIS BACON TO MR. DAVID FOULES IN
SCOTLAND, UPON THE E:tTRANCE OF HIS MA-
JESTY'S REIGN.
Sir, the occasion awaketh in me the remem-
brance of the constant and mutual good offices
vphich passed between my good brother and
yourself; whereunto, as you know, I was not
altogether a stranger, though the time and design
(as between brethren) made me more reserved.
But well do I bear in mind the great opinion
which my brother (whose judgment I much
reverence) would often express to me of the extra-
ordinary sufficiency, dexterity, and temper, which
he had found in you, in the business and service
of the king our sovereign lord. This latter bred
in me an election, as the former gave an induce-
ment, for me to address myself to you, and to
make this signification of my desire, towards a
mutual entertainment of good affection and cor-
respondence between us, hoping that some good
effect may result of it, towards the king's service,
and that for our particulars, though occasion give
you the ])recedence, of furthering my being known
by good note unto the king ; so, no long time will
intercede, before I, on my part, shall have some
means given to reqliite your favours, and verify
vour commendation. And so, with my loving
commendations, (good Mr. Foules,) I leave you
to God's goodness.
From Gray's Inn, this 25th of March.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO SIR ROBERT CECIL, AF-
TER DEFEAT OF THE SPANIARDS IN IRELAND,
FOR REDUCING THAT KINGDOM TO CIVILITY,
WITH SOME REASONS ENCLOSED.
It may please your Honour,
As one that wisheth you all increase of honour,
and as one that cannot leave to love the state,
what interest soever I have, or may come to have
in it, and as one that now this dead vacation time
have some leisure "ad aliud agendum," I will
presume to propound unto you that which, though
you cannot but see, yet I know not whether you
apprehend and esteem it in so high a degree that
is, for the best action of importation to yourself,
of sound honour and merit to her majesty, and
this crown, without ventosity or popularity, that
the riches of any occasion, or the tide of any op-
^OL. III.— 2
portunity cun possibly minister or offer. And
that is, the causes of Ireland, if they he taken hy
the right handle: for if the wound he not ripped
up again, and come to a festered sense, by new
foreign succours, I think that no physician will fro
on much with letting blood " in declinatione
morbi," but will intend to purge and corroborate.
To which purpose I send you mine opinion, with-
out labour of words in the enclosed, and sure I
am, that if you shall enter into the matter accord-
ing to the vivacity of your own spirit, nothinor
can make unto you a more gainful return ; for
you shall make the queen's felicity complete,
which now (as it is) is incomparable; and for
yourself, you shall make yourself as good a pa-
triot as you are thought a politic, and to have no
less generous ends than dexterous delivery of
yourself towards your ends; and as well to have
true arts and grounds of government, as the fa
cility and felicity of practice and negotiation ,
and to be as well seen in the periods and tides of
estates, as in your own circle and way; than the
which I suppose nothing can be a better addition
and accumulation of honour unto you.
This, I hope, I may in privateness write, either
as a kinsman, that may be bold, or as a scholar,
that hath liberty of discourse, without committiiig
of any absurdity. If not, I pray your honour to
believe, I ever loved her majesty and tne state,
and now love yourself; and there is never any
vehement love without some absurdity, as the
Spaniard well saith, "desuario con la calentura."
So, desiring your honour's pardon, I ever con-
tinue, etc.
Fr. Bacon.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE LORD TREASURER,
TOUCHING HIS SPEECH IN PARLIAMENT.
It may please your good Lordship,
I was sorry to find by your lordship's speech
yesterday, that my last speech in Parliament,
delivered in discharge of my conscience, my duty
to God, her majesty, and my country, was offen-
sive: if it were misreported, I would be glad to
attend your lordship, to disavow any thi^-- I said
not; if it were misconstrued, I would be glad to
expound my words, to exclude any sense I meant
not; if my heart be misjudged by imputation of
popularity, or opposition, I have great wrong,
and the greater, because the manner of my speech
did most evidently show that I spake most sim-
ply, and only to satisfy my conscience, and not
with any advantage or policy to sway the case,
and my terms carried all signification of duty ami
zeal towards her majesty and he »<ervice. It is very
true, that from the beginning, v^hatsoever was a
double subsidy I did wish might for precedent's
sake appear to be extraordinary, and for discontent's
sake might not have been levied upon the poorci
10
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
sort, Ihoiigh otherwise I wished it as rising as I
think this will prove, or more. This was my
mind, I confess it : and therefore I most humbly
pray your lordship, first, to continue me in your
own good opinion, and then, to perform the part
of an honourable good friend, towards your poor
servant and ally, in drawing her majesty to accept
of the sincerity and simplicity of my zeal, and to
hold me in her majesty's favour, which is to me
dearer than my life, and so, etc.
Your lordship's most humble in all duty.
Fr. Bacon.
A LETTER TO MR. MATTHEW, UPON SENDING HIS
BOOK UE SAI'IENTIA VETEUUM.
Mr. Matthkw,
I do very heartily thank you for your letter of
the 24th of August, from Salamanca; and in re-
compense thereof, I send you a little work of
mine, that hath begun to pass the world. They
tell me my Latin is turned into silver, and become
current. Had you been here you had been my
inquisitor, before it came forth. But I think the
greatest inquisitor in Spain will allow it. But
one thing you must pardon me, if I make no haste
to believe, that the world should be grown to
such an ecstasy, as to reject truth in philosophy,
because the author dissenteth in religion; no
more than they do by Aristotle, or Averrois. My
great work goeth forward, and after my manner, I
alter even when I add : so that nothing is finished
till all be finished. This I have written in the
midst of a term and parliament, thinking no time
so prt.iious, but that I should talk of these mat-
ters with so good and dear a friend. And so,
with my wonted wishes, I leave you to God's
goodness.
From Gray's Inn, Febr. 17, IfilO.
enclosed, because I greatly desire so far forth to
preserve my credit with you, as thus : that whereas
lately (perhaps out of too much desire, wlcjh in-
duceth too much belief) 1 was bold to say, that I
thought it as easy for your majesty to come out of
want, as to go forth of your gallery, your majesty
would not take me for a dreamer, or a projector.
1 send your majesty therefore some grounds of
my hopes. And for that paper which 1 have
gathered of increasements " sperale :" I beseech
you to give me leave to think, that if any of the
particulars do fail, i» will be rather for want of
workmanship in those that shall deal in them,
than want of materials in the things themselves.
The other paper hath many discarding cards; and
I send it chiefly, that your majesty may be the
less surprised by projectors, who pretend some-
times great discoveries and inventions, in things
that have been propounded and perhaps after a
better fashion, long since. God Almighty pre-
serve your majesty.
Your majesty's most humble and
devoted servant and subject.
April 25, 1610.
A LETTER TO THE KING, TOUCHING MATTER OF
REVENUE AND PROFIT.
It may plkase your Majesty,
I may remember what Tacitus saith, by occa-
sion that Tiberius was often and long absent from
Rome, " in Urbe, et parva et magna negotia im-
peratorem simul premunt," But saith he, " in
llecessu, dimissis rebus minoris momenti, sum-
mae rerum magnarum magis agitantur," This
maketh me think, it shall be no incivility to trouble
your majesty with business, during your abode
from London, knowing your majesty's rheditations
are the principal wheel of your estate, and being
warranted by a former commandment, which I
received from you.
I do now only send your majesty these papers
a letter to the king, touching the lord
chancellor's place.
It may please your most excellent Majesty.
Your worthy chancellor, I fear, goeth his last
day. God hath hitherto used to weed out such
servants as grew not fit for your majesty, but now
he hath gathered to himself a true sage or salvia
out of your garden; but your majesty's service
must not be mortal.
Upon this heavy accident, I pray your majesty,
in all humbleness and sincerity, to give me leave
to use a few words. I must never forget, when I
moved your majesty for the attorney's place, it
was your own sole act; more than that, Somerset,
when he knew your majesty had resolved it, thrust
himself into the business for a fee. And there-
fore I have no reason to pray to saints.
I shall now again make obligation to your ma-
jesty, first, of my heart, then, of my service,
thirdly, of my place of attorney, which I think is
honestly worth £G000 per annum, and, fourthly,
of my place of the Star Chamber, which is worth
£1600 per annum ; and with the favour and coun-
tenance of a chancellor, much more.
I hope I may be acquitted of presumption, if I
think of it, both because my father had the place,
which is some civil inducements to my desire;
and I pray God your majesty may have twenty no
worse years in your greatness, than Queen Kliza-
beth had in her model, (after my father's placing,)
and chiefly, because, if the chancellor's place
went to the law, it was ever conferred upon some
of the learned counsel, and never upon a judge.
For Audley was raised from king's sergeant, mv
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
11
latlier from attorney of the wars, Bromley from
solicitor, Puckering from sergeant, Egerton from
master of the rolls, having newly left the attor-
ney's place. Now 1 beseech your majesty, let
me put you the present case truly. If you take
my Lord Coke, this will follow : first, your ma-
jesty shall put an overruling nature into an over-
ruling place, which may breed an extreme ; next,
you shall blunt his industries in matter of finances,
which seemeth to aim at another place. And,
lastly, popular men are no sure mounters for your
majesty s saddle. If you take my Lord Hubbard,
you shall have a judge at the upper end of your
council-board, and another at the lower end ;
whereby your majesty will find your prerogative
pent. For, though there should be emulation be-
tween them, yet as legists they will agree, in
magnifying that wherein they are best, he is no
statesman, but an economist, wholly for himself.
So as your majesty (more than an outward form)
will find little help in him, for the business. If
you take my Lord of Canterbury, 1 will say no
more, but the chancellor's place requires a whole
man. And to have both jurisdictions, spiritual
and temporal, in that height, is fit but for a king.
For myself, I can only present your majesty
with ''gloria in obsequio;" yet I dare promise,
that if I sit in that place, your business shall not
make such short terms upon you, as it doth ; but
when a direction is once given, it shall be pursued
and performed ; and your majesty shall only be
troubled with the true care of a king, which is to
think what you would have done in chief, and not
how, for the passages. •
I do presume, also, in respect of my father's
memory, and that I have been always gracious in
the Lower House, I have interest in the gentle-
men of England, and shall be able to do some
good effect, in rectifying that body of Parliament
men, which is " cardo rerum." For, let me tell
your majesty, that that part of the chancellor's
place, which is to judge in equity, between parly
and party, that same " regnum judiciale," (which,
since my fither's time, is but too much enlarged,)
concerneth your majesty least, more than the ac-
quitting your conscience for justice. But it is the
other parts of a moderator, amongst your council,
of an overseers over your judges, of a planter of
fit justices, and governors in the country, that im-
porteth your aflTairs in these times most.
I will add also, that I hope, by my care, the
inventive part of your council will be strength-
ened, who now, commonly, do exercise rather
their judgments than their inventions: and the
inventive part conieth from projectors, and private
men, which cannot be so well ; in which kind my
Lord of Salisbury had a good method, if his ends
had been upright.
To conclude, if I were the man I would be, I
should hope, that as your majesty hath of late won
hearts by depressing, you should in this leese no
hearts by advancing. For I see your people can
better skill of " concretum" than " abstractum,"
and that the waves of their affections flow rather
after persons than things. So that acts of this
nature (if this were one) do more good than
twenty bills of grace.
If God call my lord, the warrants and commis-
sions which are recjuisite for the taking the seal,
and for the working with it, and for the reviving
of warrants under his hand, which die with him,
and the like, shall be in readiness. And in this
time presseth more, because it is the end of a term,
and almost the beginning of the circuits : so that
the seal cannot stand still. But this may be done,
as heretofore, by commission, till your majesty
hath resolved of an oflicer. God ever preserve
your majesty.
Your majesty's most humble subject,
and bounden servant.
Feb. 12, 1615.
A LETTER TO THE KING, OF MY LORD CHANCEL-
LOR'S AMENDMENT, AND THE DIFFERENCE
HEGUN BETWEEN THE CHANCERY AND KING'S
BENCH.
It MAY PLEASE YOUR MOST EXCELLENT MajESTY,
I do find (God be thanked) a sensible amend-
ment in my lord chancellor; I was with him yes-
terday in private conference, about half an hour,
and this day again, at such times as he did seal,
which he endured well almost the space of an
hour, though the vapour of the wax be offensive
to him. He is free from a fever, perfex't in his
powers of memory and speech, and not hollow in
his voice nor looks. He hath no panting, nor
labouring respiration, neither are his coughs dry
or weak. But whosoever thinkelh his disease to
be but melancholy, maketh no true judgment of
it, for it is plainly a formed and deep cough, with
a pectoral surcharge, so that, at times, he doth
almost "animam agere." I forbear to advertise
your majesty of the care I took to have commis-
sioners in readiness, because Master Secretary
Lake hath let me understand he signified as much
to your majesty. But I hope there shall be no
use of them for this time.
And, as I ain glad to advertise your majesty of
the amendment of your chancellor's person, so I
am sorry to accompany it with an advertisement
of the sickness of your Chancery Court; though,
by the grace of God, that cure will be much
easier than the other. It is true, I did lately
write to your majesty, that for the matter of " ha-
beas corpora," (which was the third matter in Jaw
you had given me in charge,) I did think the com-
munion of service between my lord chancellor,
and my lord chief justice, in the great business
of examination, would so join them, as they
would not square at this time. But pardon a:<j,
1 humbly pray your majesty, if I have too rea-
12
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
Bonable thoughts. And yet that which happened
the last day of the term concerning certain indict-
ments, in the nature of praemunire, preferred into
the King's Bench, but not found, is not so much
as is noised abroad, though, I must say, it was
" omni tempere nimium, et hoc tempore alienum."
And, therefore, I beseech your majesty not to give
any believing ear to reports, but to receive the
truth from me that am your attorney-general, and
ought to stand indifferent for jurisdictions of all
courts; which, I account, I cannot give your
majesty now, because I was then absent, and some
are now absent, which are properly and authenti-
cally to inform me, touching that which passed.
Neither let this any way disjoint your other busi-
ness ; for there is a time for all things, and this
very accident may be turned to good ; not that I
am of opinion that the same canning maxim of
"separa et impera," which sometimes holdeth in
persons, can well take place in jurisdiction; but
because some good occasion by this excess may
be taken, to settle that which would have been
more dangerous, if it had gone on, by little and
little. God preserve your majesty.
Your majesty's most humble subject,
and most bounden servant.
Feb. 15th, 1015.
you, and long and happily may you serve b'<
majesty.
Your true and affectionate servant.
Feb. 10, 1615.
POSTSCRIPT.
Sir, I humbly thank you for your inward letter:
I have burned it as you commanded, but the flame
it hath kindled in me will never be extinguished.
A LETTER TO SIR GEORGE VILLIERS, TOUCHING
THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE COURTS OF
CHANCERY AND KING'S BENCH.
Sir,
I received this morning from you two letters
by the same bearer, the one written before the
other, both after his majesty had received my
last. In this difference between the two courts
of Chancery and King's Bench, (for so I had rather
take it at this time, than between the persons of
ray lord chancellor, and my lord chief justice,) I
marvel not, if rumour get way of true relation ;
for I know fame hath swift wings, especially that
which hath black feathers; but within these two
days (for sooner I cannot be ready) I will write
to his majesty both the narrative truly, and my
opinion sincerely, taking much comfort, that I
serve such a king, as hath God's property, in
discerning truly of men's hearts. I purpose to
speak with my lord chancellor this day, and so to
exhibit that cordial of his majesty's grace, as I
hope this other accident will rather rouse and
raise his spirits, than deject him, or incline him
to a relapse; mean while, I commend the wit of
a mean man, that said this other day, well, (saith
he,) next term you shall have an old man come
with a besom of wormwood in his hand, that will i
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE KING, CONCERNING
THE PR^MUNIUE IN THE KING'S BENCH
AGAINST THE CHANCERY.
It may PLEASE YOUR MOST EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
I was yesterday in the afternoon, with my lord
chancellor, according to your commandment,
which I received by the Mr. of the Horse, and
find the old man well comforted, both towards
God and towards the world. And the same
middle comfort, which is a divine and humane,
proceeding from your majesty, being God's lieu-
tenant on earth, I am persuaded hath been a great
cause, that such a sickness hath been portable to
such an age. I did not fail in my conjecture,
that this business of the Chancery hath stirred
him. He showeth to despise it, but yet he is
full of it, and almost like a young duellist that
findeth himself behindhand.
I will now (as your majesty requireth) give
you a true relation of that which passed ; neither
will I decline your royal commandment, for deli-
vering my opinion also ; though it be a tender
subject to write on. But I, that account my being
but an accident to my service, will neglect no
duty upon self-safety. First, it is necessary I let
your majesty know the ground of the difference
between the two courts, that your majesty may
the better understand the narrative.
2- p o There was a statute made S7 Ed. 3,
p ' * Cap. 1, which (no doubt) in the prin-
"' * cipal intention thereof, was ordained
against those that sued to Rome, wherein there
are words somewhat general, against any that
questioneth or impeacheth any judgment given in
the king's courts, in any other courts. Upon
these doubtful words (other courts) the contro-
versy groweth ; for the sounder interpretation
taketh them to be meant of those courts which,
though locally they were not held at Rome, or
where the pope's chair was, but here within the
realm, yet in their jurisdiction had their depend-
ency upon the court of Rome; as were the court
of the legate here, and the courts of the archbi-
shops and bishops, which were then but subordi-
nate judgment seats, to that high tribunal of
Rome.
And, for this construction, the opposition of the
sweep away ail this. For it is my lord chancel-
lor's fashion, especially towards the summer, to ' words, (if they be well observed) between the
*!arry a posy of wormwood. I write this letter in king's courts and other courts, maketh very much ;
daste, to return the messenger with it. God keep , for it importeth as if those other courts were nol
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
13
the king's courts. Also the main scope of the
btalute fortifieth the sanrie ; and, lastly, the prac-
tice of many ages. The other interpretation,
which cleaveth to the letter, expoundeth the
king's courts to be the courts of law only, and
other courts to be courts of equity, as the Chan-
cery, Exchequer Chamber, Duchy, etc., though
this also flieth indeed from the letter; for that all
these are the king's courts.
„ There is also another statute, which is
„ * ' but a simple prohibition, ami not with
'" ' a penalty of pra;munire, as the other is,
that after judgments given in the king's court,
the parties sha-U be in peace, except the judgments
be undone, by error, or attaint, winch is a legal
form of reversal. And of this also, I hold the
sounder interpretation to be, to settle possessions
against disturbances, and not to take away
remedy in equity, where those judgments are
obtained " ex rigore juris," and against good con-
science.
But upon these two statutes, there hath been a
late conceit in some, that if a judgment pass at
the common law against any, he may not after
sue for relief in Chancery ; and if he do, both he
and his counsel, and his solicitor, yea, and the
judge, in equity, himself, are within the danger
of those statutes. There your majesty hath the
true state of the question, wiiich I was necessarily
to show you first, because your majesty calleth
for this relation, not as news, but as business.
Now to the historical part; it is the course of the
King's Bench, that they give in charge to the
grand jury offences of all natures to be presented
within Middlesex, where the said court is; and
the manner is to enumerate them, as it were in
articles. This was done by Justice Crooke, the
Wednesday before the term ended : and that
article, "if any man after a judgment given had
drawn the said judgment to a new examination in
any other court," was by him especially given in
charge, which had not used to be given in charge
before. It is true, it was not solemnly dwelt
upon, but, as it were, thrown in amongst the rt^st.
The last day of the term (and that which all
men condemn, the supposed last day of my lord
chancellor's life) there were two indictments pre-
ferred of "praemunire," for suing in Chanecry
after judgment at common law; The one by
Richard Glandvile, the other by William Allen;
the former against Courtney, the party in Chan-
cery, Gibb, the counsellor, and Dourst, the clerk.
The latter against Alderman Bowles, and Hum-
frey Smith, parties in Chancery, Serjeant Moore,
the counsellor, Elias Wood, solicitor in the cause,
and Sir John Tyndal, master of the Chancery, and
an assessor to my lord chancellor. For the cases
themselves, it were too long to trouble your ma-
jesty with them ; but this I will say, if they were
set on that preferred them, they were the worst
workmen that ever were that set them on ; foi,
there could not have been chosen two such causes,
to the honour and advantage of the Chancery, foi
the justness of the decrees, and the foulness and
scandal, both of fact and person, in those that
impeach the decrees.
The grand jury, consisting (as it seemeth) of
very substantial and intelligent persons, would
not find the bills, notwitiislanding that they were
much clamoured by the parties, and twice sent
back by the court; and, in conclusion, resolutely
17 of 19 found an " Ignoramus ;" wherein, for that
time, I think "Ignoramus" was wiser than those
that knew too much.
Your majesty will pardon me, if I be sparing in
delivering to you some other circumstances of
aggravation, and concurrences of some like mat-
ters the same day, as if it had been some fatal
constellation. They be not things so sufficiently
tried, as I dare put them into your ear.
For my opinion, I cannot but begin with this
preface, that I am infinitely sorry that your
majesty is thus to put to salve and cure, not only
accidents of time, but errors of servants. For I
account this a kind of sickness of my Lord Coke's
that comes almost in as ill a time, as the sickness
of my lord chancellor. And as I think it was
one of the wisest parts that ever he played, when
he went down to your majesty to Royston, and
desired to have my lord chancellor joined with
him ; so this was one of the weakest parts that
ever he played, to make all the world perceive that
my lord chancellor is severed from him at this time.
But for that which may concern your service,
which is my end, (leaving other men to their own
ways:) First, my opinion is plainly, that my
Lord Coke, at this time, is not to be disgraced,
both because he is so well habituated for that which
remaineth of these capital causes, and also for
that which I find is in his breast touching your
finances, and matter of repair of your estate.
And (if I might speak it) as I think it were
good his hopes were at an end in some kind,
so I could wish they were raised in some other.
On the other side, this great and public affront,
not only to the reverend and well-deserving person
of your chancellor, (and at a time when he was
thought to lie a dying, which was barbarous,) but
to your high court of Chancery, (which is the
court of your absolute power,) may not (in my
opinion) pass lightly, nor end only in some formal
atonement; but use is to be made thereof, for the
settling of your authority, and strengthening
of your prerogative, according to the rules of
monarchy. Now to accommodate and reconciles
these advices, which seem almost opposite.
First, your majesty may net see it (though 1
confess it be suspicious) that my Lord Coke was
any way aforehand privy to that which was done,
or that he did set it or animate it, but or\ly took
B
14
LETfERS FROM THE CABALA
the matter as it 'came before him, and that his
error was only that at such a time he did not divert
it in some good manner.
Second, if it be true (as is reported) that any of
the puisne judjres did stir this business, or that
tliey did openly revile and menace the jury for
doing their conscience, (as they did honestly and
truly,) I think that judge is worthy to lose his
place. And, to be plain with your majesty, I do
not think there is any thing, a greater " Polycres-
ton, ad multa utile" to your alfairs, than, upon a
just and fit occasion, to make some example
against the presumption of a judge, in causes that
concern your majesty ; whereby the whole body
of those magistrates may be contained to better
awe; and it may be, this will light upon no unfit
subject, of a person that is rude, and that no man
cares for.
Thirdly, if there be no one so much in fault,
(which 1 cannot yet affirm, either way, and there
must be a just ground, God forbid else,) yet 1
should think, that the very presumption of going
so far in so high a cause deserveth to have that
done, which was done in this very case, upon the
indictment of Serjeant Heale, in Queen Elizabeth's
time, that the judges should answer it upon their
knees before your majesty, or your council, and
receive a sharp admonition ; at which time also,
my Lord Wrey, being then chief justice, slipped
the collar, and was forborne.
Fourthly, for the persons themselves, Glanvile
and Allen, which are base fellows, and turbulent,
I think there will be discovered and proved against
them (besides the preferring of the bill) such com-
bination and contemptuous speeches and behaviour
as there will be good ground to call them, and per-
haps some of their petty counsellors at law, into
the Star Chamber.
In all this which I have said, your majesty may
be pleased to observe, that I do not engage you I
now forbear. But two thingrs 1 wish to be done ;
the one, that your majesty take this occasion much
in the main point of the jurisdiction, for which I
have a great deal of reason, which to redouble
unto all your judges your ancient and true charge
and rule; that you will endure no innovating in the
point of jurisdiction : but will have every court
impaled within their own presidents, and not
assume to themselves new powers, upon conceits
and inventions of law: the other that in these
high causes, that touch upon state and monarchy,
your majesty give them straight charge, that upon
any occasions intervenient, hereafter, they do not
make the vulgar party to their contestations, by
public handling them before they have consulted
with your majesty, to whom the reglement of
those things ap7)ertaineth. To conclude, I am not
without hope, that your majesty's managing this
business, according to your great wisdom, unto
which J acknowledge myself not worthy to be
card-holder or candle-holder, will make profit of
this accident, as a thing of God's sending.
Lastly, I may not forget to represent to yo'jr
majesty, that there is no thinking of arraignment
until these things be somewhat accommodated,
and some outward and superficial reconciliation,
at least, made between my lord chancellor and
my lord chief justice ; for this accident is a banquet
to all Somerset's friends. But this is a thing that
falleth out naturally of itself, in respect of the
judges going circuit, and my lord chancellor's in-
firmity, with hope of recovery. And although
this protraction of time may breed some doubt of
mutability, yet I have lately learned, out of an
excellent letter of a certain king, that the sun
showeth sometimes watery to cur eyes, but when
the cloud is gone, the sun is as before. God pre-
serve your majesty.
Your majesty's most humble subject,
and most bounden servant.
Febr. 21, 1C17.
Your majesty's commandment speaketh for
pardon of so long a letter ; which yet I wish may
have a short continuance, and be punished with
fire.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE KING, UPON SOME
INCLINATION OF HIS MAJESTY, SIGNIFIED TO
him, for the chancellor's place.
It may please your most excellent Majestv,
The last day when it pleased your majesty tc
express yourself towards me in favour, far above
that I can deserve, or could expect, I was sur-
prised by the prince's coming in ; I most humbly
pray your majesty, therefore, to accept these few
lines of acknowledgment.
I never had great thoughts for myself, farther
than to maintain those great thoughts which I
contess I have for your service. I know what
honour is, and I know what the times are; but I
thank God with me my service is the principal,
and it is far from me, under honourable pretences,
to cover base desires, which I account them to be,
when men refer too much to themselves, espe-
cially serving such a king, I am afraid of nothing,
but that the master of the horse, your excellent
servant, and myself, shall fall out about this, who
shall hold your stirrup best; but were your ma-
jesty mounted, and seated without difficulties
and distaste in your business, as I desire and hope
to see you, I should "ex animo" desire to spend
the decline of my years in my studies, wherein
also I should not forget to do him honour, who,
besides his active and politic virtues, is the best
pen of kings, and much more the best subject of
a pen. God ever preserve your majesty.
Your majesty's most humble subject,
and more and more obliged servant.
April i, 1616.
L?]TTERS FROM THE CABALA.
15
OF ADVICE CONCERNING IRELAND, FROM GOR-
HAMBURY TO WINDSOR.
Because I am uncertain whether his majesty
will put to a point some resolutions touching-
Ireland, now at Windsor: I thought it my duty
to attend his majesty by my letter, and thereby to
supply my absence, for the renewing of some
former commissions for Ireland, and the framing
of a new commission for tlie wards, and the alien-
ations, which appertain properly to me, as his
majesty's attorney, and have been accordingly
referred by the lords, I will undertake that they
are prepared with a greater care, and better appli-
cation to his majesty's service, in that kingdom,
than heretofore they have been ; and therefore of
that I say no more. And for the instructions of
the new deputy, they have been set down by the
two secretaries, and read to the board, and being
things of an ordinary nature, I do not see but they
may pass. But there have been three propositions
and councils which have been stirred, which seem
to me of very great importance, wherein I think
myself bound to deliver to his majesty my advice,
and opinion, if they should now come in ques-
tion. The first is touching the recusant magis-
trates of the towns of Ireland, and the common-
alties themselves, and their electors, what shall
be done ; which consultation ariseth from the late
advertisements from the two lord justices, upon
the instance of the two towns. Limerick and Kil-
kenny ; in which advertisements, they represent
the danger only without giving any light for the
remedy, rather warily for tiiemselves, than agree-
able to their duties and places. In this point, '
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO SIR GEORGE vii.MERS, I and happy, for the weeding out of Popery, with-
out using the temporal sword ; so that 1 think I
may truly conclude, that the ripeness of time is
not yet come.
Therefore my advice is, in all humbleness, that
this hazardous course of proceeding to tender the
oath to the magistrates of towns, proceed not, biit
die by degrees. And yet to preserve the author-
ity and reputation of the former council, I would
have somewhat done, which is, that there be a
proceeding to seizure of liberties, hut not by any
act of power, but by " quo warranto," or " scire
facias," which is a legal course, and will be the
work of three or four terms ; by which time the
matter will be somewhat cool.
But I would not (in no case) that the proceed-
ing should he with both the towns which stand
now in contempt, but with one of them only,
choosing that which shall be most fit. For, if hia
majesty proceed with both, then all the towns
that are in the like case will think it a common
cause, and that it is but their case to-day, and
their own to-morrow. But if his majesty proceed
but with one, the apprehension and terror will not
be so strong ; for, they may think, it may be their
case to be spared, as well as prosecuted. And
this is the best advice that I can give to his ma-
jesty, in this strait: and of this opinion seemed
my lord chancellor to be.
The second proposition is this, it maj be, his
majesty will be moved to reduce the number of
his council of Ireland (which is now almost
fifty) to twenty, or the like number, in respect
vhat the greatnessof the number doth both imbase
the authority of the council, and divulge the busi-
ness. Nevertheless, I hold this proposition to
humbly pray his majesty to remember, that the ) be rather specious, and solemn, than needful at
refusal is not of the oath of allegiance, (which
is not exacted in Ireland,) but of the oath of
supremacy, which cutteth deeper into matter of
conscience.
Also that his majesty, will out of the depth of
his excellent wisdom and providence, think, and
as it were calculate with himself, whether time
will make more for the cause of religion in Ire-
land, and be still more and more propitious, or
this time ; for certainly it will fill tlie state full
of discontentment, which, in a growing and un-
settled state, ought not to be. This I could wish,
that his majesty would appoint a select number
of counsellors there, which might deal in the im-
provement of his revenue, (being a thing not to
pass through too many hands;) and the said
selected number should have days of sitting by
themselves, at which the rest of the council should
whether differing remedies will not make the case I not be present; which being once settled, then
more diiTicult. For if time give his majesty the other principal business of state may be handled
advantage, what needeth precipitation of extreme at these sittings; and so the rest begin to be dis-
remedies; but if the time will make the case used, and yet retain their countenance, without
more desperate, then his majesty cannot begin too | murmur, or disgrace.
soon. Now, in my opinion, time will open and ! The third proposftion, as it is moved, seemeth
facilitate things for reformation of religion there, \ to be pretty, if it can keep promise ; for it is this,
and not shut up or lock out the same. For, first,
the plantations going on, and being principally
of Protestants, cannot but mate the other party in
time. Also his majesty's care in placing good
bishops, and good divines; in amplifying the
that a means may be found to reinforce his ma-
jesty's army by five humlred, or a thousand mon,
and that without any penny increase of charge.
And the means should be, that there should be a
commandment ofalocal removing, and transferring
college there, and looking to the education of I some companies from one province to another,
wards, and such like ; as they are the most natural i whereupon it is supposed, that many that are
means, so are they like to be the most effectual ■ planted in house and lands, will rather lose their
16
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
entertrjnment, than remove; and thereby new
men may have their pay, yet, the old be mingled
in the country, for the strength thereof. In this
proposition two things may be feared; the one,
discontent of those that shall be put off; the
other, that the companies should be stuffed with
novices, (tirones) instead of " veterani." I wish,
therefore, that this proposition be well debated,
before it be admitted. Thus having performed
that which duty binds me to, I commend you to
God's best preservation.
Your most devoted and bounden servant.
July 5, 1616.
SIR FRANCIS BACON, TO THE EARL OF NORTHUM-
BERLAND.
It may PLEASE YOUR LoRDSHIP,
I would not have lost tliis journey; and yet, I
have not that I went for : for I have had no private
conference to purpose with the king, no more hath
almost any other English; for the speech of his
maj^isly admitteth with some nobleman, is rather
matter of grace, than matter of business : with
the attorney he spake, urged by the Treasurer of
Scothind, but no more than needs must. After I
had received his majesty's first welcome, and was
promised private access, yet, not knowing what
matter of service your lordship's letter carried,
for I saw it not, and knowing that primeness in
advertisement is much, I chose rather to deliver
it to Sir Tbomas Hoskins, than to let it cool in
my hands, upon expectation of access. Your
lordship shall find a prince the farthest from vain-
glory that may be, and rather like a prince of the
ancient form than of tlie latter time ; his speeches
swift and cursory, and in the full dialect of his
nation, and in speecn of business short, in speech
of discourse large ; he affecteth popularity by
gracing them that are popular, and not by any
fashions of his own; he is thought somewhat
general in his favours ; and his virtue of access
is rather because he is much abroad, and in press,
than he giveth easy audience: he hasteneth to a
mixture of both kingdoms and nations, faster
perhaps than policy will well bear. I told your
lordship once before my opinion, that methought
his majesty rather asked counsel of the time past,
than of the time to come. But it is yt early to
ground any settled opinion. For other particu-
larities I refer to conference, having in these gene-
rals gone farther in these tender arguments than
I would have done, were not the bearer hereof
so assured. So I continue your, etc.
Fr. Bacon.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE KING.
-May IT PLEASE YOUR MOST EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
In the midst of my misery, which is rather
assuaged by remembrance, than by hope, my
chiefest worldly comfort is, to think, that since
the time I had the first vote of the Lower House
of Parliament for commissioner of the union;
until the time that I was this Parliament chosen
by both Houses, for their messenger to your ma-
jesty in the petition of religion, (which two,
were my first and last services,) I was evermore
so happy, as to have my poor services graciously
accepted by your majesty, and likewise not to
have had any of them miscarry in my hands.
Neither of which points I can any ways take to
myself, but ascribe the former to your majesty's
goodness, and the latter to your prudent direc-
tions, which I was ever careful to have, and keep.
For, as I have often said to your majesty, I was
towards you but as a bucket, and a cistern to
draw forth, and conserve, an-d yourself was the
fountain. Unto this comfort of nineteen years
prosperity, there succeeded a comfort even in my
o-reatest adversity, somewhat of the same nature,
which is, that in those offences wherewith I was
charged, there was not any one that had special
relation to your majesty, or any your particular
commandments. For, as towards Almighty God,
there are offences against the first and second
table, and yet all against God ; so with the
servants of kings, there are offences more imme-
diate against the sovereign, although all offences
against law are also against the king. Unto which
comfort there is added this circumstance, that as
my faults were not against your majesty otherwise
than as all faults are, so my fall is not your ma-
jesty's act, otherwise than as all acts of justice
are yours. This I write not to insinuate with
your majesty, but as a most humble appeal to
your majesty's gracious remembrance, how honest
and direct you have ever found me in your service,
whereby I have an assured belief, that there is in
your majesty's princely thoughts, a great deal of
serenity and clearness to me, your majesty's now
prostrate, and cast down servant.
Neither (my most gracious sovereign) do I, by
this mentioning of my services, lay claim to your
princely grace and bounty, though the privilege
of calamity do bear that form of petition. I know
well, had they been much more, they had been
but my bounden duty ; nay, I must also confess,
that they were, from time to time, far above my
' merit, super-rewarded by your majesty's benefits,
! which you heaped upon me. Your majesty was,
I and is, that man to me, that raised and advanced
me nine times, thrice in dignity, and six times in
office. Tiie places indeed were the painfullest of
all your service, but then they had both honour
and profit, and the then profits might have main-
tained my now honour, if I had been wise.
Neither was your majesty's immediate liberality
wanting towards me, in some gifts, if I may hold
them. All this I do most thankfully acknowledge,
and do herewith conclude, that for any thing
arising from myself, to move your eye of pity
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
17
towards me, there is much more in my present
misery than in my past services ; save that the
same your majesty's goodness, that may give
relief tu the one, may give value to the other.
And, indeed, if it may please your majesty,
this theme of my misery is so plentiful, as it need
not be coupled with any thing else. I have been
somebody, by your majesty's singular and unde-
served favour, even the prime officer of your king-
dom. Your majesty's arm hath been often over
mine in council, when you presided at the table,
so near I was. I have borne your majesty's image
in metal, much more in heart. I was never, in
nineteen years' service, chidden by your majesty,
but, contrariwise, often overjoyed, when your
majesty would sometimes say ; " I was a good
husband for you, though none for myself;" some-
times, " That I had a w^ay to deal in business,
'suavibus modis,' which was the way which was
most according to your own heart;" and other
most gracious speeches of affection and trust,
which I feed on till this day. But why should I
speak of these things, which are now vanished,
but only the better to express my downfall.
For now it is thus with me; I am a year and a
half old in misery, though (I must ever acknow-
ledge) not without some mixture of your majesty's
grace and mercy. For I do not think it possible,
that any you once loved should be totally mise-
rable. My own means, through mine own impro-
vidence, are poor and weak, little better than my
father left me. The poor things which I have
had from your majesty, are either in question, or
at courtesy: my dignities remain marks of your
past favour, but yet burdens withal of my present
fortune. The poor remnants which I had of my
former fortunes, in plate or jewels, I have spread
upon poor men, unto whom I owed, scarce leaving
myself bread. So as, to conclude, I must pour
out my misery before your majesty, so far as to
say, " Si deseris tu, perimus."
But as I can offer to your majesty's compas-
sion, little arising from myself to move you,
except it be my extreme misery, which I have
truly laid open ; so looking up to your majesty
yourself, I should think I committed Cain's fault,
if I should despair : your majesty is a king, whose
heart is as unscrutable, for secret motions of
goodness, as for depth of wisdom. You are cre-
ator-like, factive, and not destructive ; you are a
prince in whom I have ever noted an aversion
against any thing that savoured of a hard heart ;
as, on the other side, your princely eye was wont
to meet with any motion that was made on the re-
lieving part. Therefore, as one that hath had happi-
ness to know your majesty near hand I have (most
gracious sovereign) faith enough for a miracle,
much more for a grace: that your majesty will
not suffer your poor creature to be utterly defaced,
nor blot that name quite out of your book, upon
Vol. IlL— 3
which your sacred hand hath been so oft for new
ornaments and additions. Unto this degree of
compassion, I hope God above (of whose mercy
towards me, both in my prosperity, and adversity.
I have had great testimonies and pledges, though
mine own manifold and wretched unthankfulness
might have averted them) will dispose your
princely heart, already prepared to all piety. And
why should I not think, but that thrice noble
prince, who would have pulled me out of the fire
of a sentence, will help to pull me (if I may use
that homely phrase) out of the mire of an abject
and sordid condition in my last days] And that
excellent favourite of yours (the goodness of
whose nature contendeth with the greatness of his
fortune, and who counteth it a prize, a second
prize, to be a good friend, after that prize which
j he carrieth to be a good servant) will kiss your
hands with joy, for any work of piety you shall
do for me? And as all commiserating persons
(specially such as find their hearts void of malice)
are apt to think, that all men pity them ; I assure
myself, that the lords of the council (who out of
their wisdom and nobleness cannot but be sensible
of human events) will, in this way which I go
for the relief of my estate, further and advance
your majesty's goodness towards me. For there
is a kind of fraternity between great men that are,
and those that have been, being but the several
tenses of one verb ; nay, 1 do farther presume,
that both Houses of Parliament will love their
justice the better if it end not in my ruin. For I
have been often told by many of my lords, (as it
were, in excusing the severity of the sentence,)
that they knew they left me in good hands. And
your majesty knoweth well, I have been all my
life long acceptable to those assemblies, not by
flattery, but by moderation, and by honest express-
ing of a desire to have all things go fairly and
well.
But (if it may please your majesty) for saints,
I shall give them reverence, but no adoration.
My address is to your majesty, the fountain of
goodness: your majesty shall, by the grace of
God, not feel that in gift, which I shall extremely
feel in help ; for my desires are moderate, and my
courses measured to a life orderly and reserved :
hoping still to do your majesty honour in my way.
Only I most humbly beseech your majesty, to
give me leave to conclude with those words which
necessity speaketh ; help me, dear sovereign lord
and master, and pity me so far, as L that have
borne a bag, be not now, in my age, forced iti
effect, to bear a wallet; nor I, that desire to live
to study, may not be driven to study to live. 1
most humbly crave pardon of a long letter, after a
long silence. God of heaven ever bless, preserve
and prosper your majesty.
Your majesty's poor ancient servant and beads-
man, Fr. St. AI.BA^f
b3
18
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
«IR FRANCIS BACON, THE KING'S ATTORNEY, RE-
TURNED VklTH rOSTlLS, OF THE KING'S OWN
HAND.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
Your majesty hath put upon nie a work of pro-
vidpiice in this great cause, which is to break and
distinguish future events into present cases, and
so present them to your royal judgment, that in
this action, which hath been carried with so great
prudence, justice, and clemency, there may be
(for that which remaineth) as little surprise as is
possible, but that things duly foreseen may have
their remedies and directions in readiness ; where-
in I cannot forget what the poet Martial saith ;
" O ! quantum est subitis cassibus ingenium !"
signifying, that accident is many times more
subtle than foresight, and overreacheth expecta-
tion : and, besides, I know very well the mean-
ness of my own judgment, in comprehending or
forecasting what may follow.
It was your majesty's pleasure also, that I
should couple the suppositions with my opinion
in every of them, which is a harder task ; but
yet your majesty's commandment requireth my
obedience, and your trust giveth me assurance.
In this case, it seemeth your
majesty will have a new con-
sult. The points whereof will
be (1) Whether your majesty
will stay the trial, and so save
them both from the stage, and
that public ignominy. Or (2)
Whether you will (or may
fitly by law) have the trial
proceed, and stay or reprieve
the jiidgment, which saveth
the lands from forfeiture, and
the blood from corruption. Or
(3) Whether you will have
both trial and judgment pro-
ceed, and save the blood only,
not from corrupting, but from
spilling.
I will put the
case which I
wish ; that So-
merset should
make a clear con-
fession of his of-
fences, before he
be produced to
trial.
REX. I say with
Apollo, " Me-
dia tutius
itur," if it may
stand with
law ; and if it
cannot, when
I shall hear
that he con-
fesseth, I am
to make choice
of the first, or
the last.
These be the depths of your majesty's mercy
which I may not enter into ; but for honour and
lopntation, they have these grounds:
That the blood of Overbury is
already revenged by divers
executions.
That confession and penitency
are the footstools of mercy,
adding this circumstance
Ukewise, that the former
offenders did none of them
make a clear confession.
That the great downfall of so
great persons carrieth, in it-
self, a heavy punishment,
and a kind of civil death,
although their lives should
not be taken.
All which may satisfy honour, for sparing their
lives.
But, if your majesty's mercy should extend to
the first degree, which is the highest, of sparing
the stage and the trial ; then three things are to
be considered.
REX. This ar- First, That they make such
tide cannot a submission or deprecation,
be mended in as they prostrate themselves,
point tliereof. and all that they have, at your
majesty's feet, imploring your
mercy.
Secondly, That your ma-
jesty, in your own wisdom, do
advise what course you will
take, for the utter extinguish-
ing of all hope of resuscitating
of their fortunes and favour;
whereof if there should be the
least conceit, it will leave in
men a great deal of envy and
discontent.
And, lastly. Whether your
majesty will not suffer it to be
thought abroad, that there is a
cause of farther examination of
Somerset, concerning matters
of estate, after he shall begin
once to be a confessant ; and
so make as well a politic
ground, as a ground of cle-
mency, for farther stay.
And for the second degree of proceeding to
trial, and staying judgment, I must better inform
myself by precedents, and adv<se with my lord
chancellor.
The second In this cas^. firrt, I suppose
case is, if that your majesty will not think of
fall out which is any stay of judcrment, but that
likest (as things the public process of justice
stand, and which pass on.
weexpect) which Secondly, for your mercy to
is, that the lady be extended to both, for pardon
confess : and that of their execution, I have
Somerset him- partly touched, in the consi-
self plead not derations applied to the formet
guilty, and be case; whereunto may be add-
found guilty. ed, that as there is ground of
REX. If stay of mercy for her, upon her peni
judgment can tency and free confession, and
I stand with the will be much more upon his
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
19
law, I would
even wish it
in this case;
in all the rest
this article
cannot be
mended.
REX. That dan-
ger is well to
be foreseen,
lest he upon
the one part
commit unpar-
donable errors,
and I on the
other part
seem to pu-
nish him in
the spirit of
revenge.
The third case
is, if he should
stand mute,
and will not
plead, whereof
your majesty
knoweth there
hath been
some secret
question.
REX. This ar-
ticle cannot be
amended.
The fourth
case is, that,
which I should
finding guilty, because the
malice on his part will be
thought the deeper source of
the offence; so there will be
ground for mercy, on his part,
upon the nature of the proof,
because it rests chiefly upon
presumptions. For, certainly,
there may be an evidence so
balanced, as it may have suffi-
cient matter for the conscience
of the peers to convict him,
and yet leave sufficient matter
in the conscience of a king,
upon the same evidence, to
pardon his life ; because the
peers are astringed by neces-
sity, either to acquit or con-
demn ; but grace is free. And
for my part, I think the evi-
dence in this present case will
be of such a nature.
Thirdly, It shall be my care
so to moderate the manner of
charging him, as it might
make him not odious beyond
the extent of mercy.
Lastly, all these points of
mercy and favour, are to be
understood with this limita-
tion, if he do not, by his con-
temptuous and insolent car-
riage at the bar, make himself
incapable and unworthy of
them.
In this case, I should think
fit, that, as in public, both my-
self and chiefly my lord chan-
cellor, (sitting then as Lord
Steward of England) should
dehort and deter him from that
desperation ; so, nevertheless
that as much should be done
for him, as was done for Wes-
ton, which was to adjourn the
court for some days, upon a
Christian ground, that he may
have time to turn from that
mind of destroying himself;
during which time your ma-
jesty's farther pleasure may be
known.
In this case, the lord stew-
ard must be provided what to
do. For, as it hath been never
be very sorry
should happen;
but, it is a future
contingent, that
is, if the peers
should acquit
him, and find
him not guilty.
REX. This is so
also.
seen (as I conceive it) that
there should be any rejecting
of the verdict, or any respiting
of the judgment of the acquit-
tal ; so, on the other side, this
case requireth, that because
there be many high artd heni-
ous offences (though not capi-
tal,) for which he may be
questioned in the Star Cham-
ber, or otherwise, that there
be some touch of that in gene-
ral, at the conclusion, by my
Lord Steward of England.
And, that, therefore, he be re-
manded to the Tower, as close
prisoner.
For matter of examination, or other proceed-
ings, my lord chancellor, with my advice, hath
set down
To-morrow, being Monday, for the re-examina-
tion of the lady.
Wednesday next, for the meeting of the judges,
concerning the evidence.
Thursday, for the examination of Somerset
himself, according to your majesty's instructions.
Which three parts, when they shall be per-
formed, I will give your majesty advertisement
with speed, and in the mean time be glad to
receive from your majesty (whom it is my part
to inform truly) such directions, or significations
of your pleasure, as this advertisement may
induce, and that with speed, because the time
Cometh on. Well remembering who is the per-
son, whom your majesty admitted to this secret;
I have sent this letter open unto him, that he
may take your majesty's times to report it, or
show it unto you, assuring myself that nothing is
more firm than his trust, tried to your majesty's
commandments ;
Your majesty's most humble and most
bounden subject and servant.
April 28, 1616.
SIR FRANCIS BACON, THE KING'S ATTORNEY-
GENERAL, TO THE MASTER OF THE HORSE, UPON
THE SENDING OF HIS BILL FOR VISCOUNT, SC.
Sir,
I send you the bill for his majesty's signature?
reformed according to his majesty's amendments,
both in the two places (which I assure you. were
altered with great judgment) and in the third
place, which his majesty termed a question only.
But he is an idle body, that thinketh his majesty
asketh an idle question ; and therefore his majesty's
questions are to be answered, by taking away th«j
cause of the question, and not by replying^.
20
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
For the name, his majesty's will is a law in
those things; and to speak the truth, it is a well-
sounding, and noble name, both here and abroad :
and being your proper name, I will take it for a
good sign, that you shall give honour to your
dignity, and not your dignity to you. Therefore
I have -made it Viscount Villiers, and for your
barony, I will keep it for an earldom : for though
the other had been more orderly, yet that is as
usual, and both alike good in law.
For Roper's place, I would have it by all
means despatched ; and therefore I marvel it
lingereth. It were no good manners, to take the
business out of my lord treasurer's hands, and
therefore I purpose to write to his lordship, if I
hear not from him first, by Mr. Deckome ; but if
I hear of any delay, you will give me leave
(especially since the king named me) to deal with
8ir Joseph Roper myself; for neither I, nor my
lord treasurers can deserve any great thanks in
this business of yours, considering the king hath
spoken to Sir Joseph Roper, and he hath promised ;
and, besides, the thing itself is so reasonable, as it
ought to be as soon done as said. I am now gotten
into the country to my house, where I have some
little liberty, to think of that I would think of, and
not of that which other men hourly break their
head withal, as it was at London. Upon this
you may conclude, that most of my thoughts are
to his majesty, and then you cannot be far off.
God ever keep you, and prosper you: I rest
always,
Your true and most dutiful servant.
The 5th of August, one of the happiest days.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO SIR GEORGE VILLIERS,
UPON THE SENDING HIS PATENT FOR VISCOUNT
VILLIERS TO BE SIGNED.
Sir,
I have sent you now your patent, creation of
Lord BletchlyofBletchly, and of Viscount Villiers.
Blelchly is your own, and I liked the sound of
the name bettor than Whaddon; but the name
will be hid, for you will be called Viscount Vil-
liers. I have put them in a patent, after the man-
ner of the patent for earls, where baronies are
joined ; but the chief reason was, because I would
avoid double prefaces, which had not been fit;
nevertheless, the ceremony of robing, and other-
wise, must be double.
And now, because I am in the country, I will
senu vou some of my country fruits, which with
me are good meditations ; which, when I am in
the city, are choked with business.
After that the king shall have watered your
new dignities, with the bounty of the lands which
he intends you, and that some other things con-
ee>-rui,g your means, which are now likewise in
intention, shall be settled upon you, I do not see,
but you may think your private fortunes establish*
ed ; and therefore it is now time, that you should
refer your actions to the good of your sovereign,
and your country. It is the life of an ox or beast
always to eat, and never exercise ; but men are
born (and especially Christian men) not to cram
in their fortunes, but to exercise their virtues; and
yet the other hath been unworthy, and (thanks be
to God) sometimes unlucky humour of great per-
sons in our times. Neither will your future for-
tune be the farther off; for assure yourself, that
fortune is of a woman's nature, and will sooner
follow by slighting, than by too much wooing.
And in this dedication of yourself to the public, I
recommend unto you principally, that which I
think, was never done since I was born; and
which, because it is not done, hath bred almost a
wilderness and solitude in the king's service ;
v^hich is, that you countenance, and encourage,
and advance able men, in all kinds, degrees, and
professions. For in the time of the Cecils, the
father and the son, able men were by design and
of purpose suppressed : and though, of late, choice
goeth better, both in church and commonwealth,
yet money and turn-serving, and cunning can-
vasses and importunity, prevaileth too much.
And in places of moment, rather make able and
honest men yours, than advance those that are other-
wise, because they are yours. As for cunning and
corrupt men, you must (I know) sometimes use
them, but keep them at a distance ; and let it
appear rather, that you make use of them, than
that they lead you. Above all depend wholly
(next unto God) upon the king, and be ruled (as
hitherto you have been) by his instructions, for
that is best for yourself. For the king's care and
thoughts for you are according to the thoughts of
a great king; whereas your thoughts concerning
yourself are, and ought to be, according to the
thoughts of a modest man. But let me not weary
you : the sum is, that you think goodness the best
part of greatness, and that you remember whence
your rising comes, and make return accordingly.
God keep you.
Aug. 12, 1616.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE KING, ABOUT A CER-
TIFICATE OF MY LORD COKE'S.
It MAY PLEASE YOUR EXCELLENT MaJESTV,
I send your majesty enclosed, my Lord Coke's
answers, I will not call them rescripts, much less
oracles. They are of his own hand, and offered
to me (as they are) in writing, not required by me
to have them set down in writing, though I am
glad of it, for my own discharge. I thought it
my duty, as soon as I received them, instantly to
send them to your majesty, and forbear, for the
present, to speak farther of them. I, for my part,
(though this Moscovia weather be a little too hard
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
21
for my constitution,) was ready to have waited
upon your majesty this day, all respects set aside;
but my lord treasurer, in respect of the season,
and much other business, was willing; to save me.
1 will only conclude, touching these papers, with
a text divided ; I cannot say " Oportuit haec fieri,"
but I may say, " Finis autem nondum." God
preserve your majesty.
Your majesty's most humble and
devoted subject and servant.
Feb. 14, at 12 o'clock.
I humbly pray your majesty, to keep the papers
safe.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO MR. TOBY MATTHEWS.
Mr. Matthews,
Do not think me forgetful, or altered towards
you : but if I should say, I could do you any good,
I should make my power more than it is. I do
fear that which I am right sorry for, that you
grow more impatient and busy than at first, which
makes me exceedingly fear the issue of that which
seemeth not to stand at a stay. I myself am out
of doubt, that you have been miserably abused,
when you were first seduced ; and that which I
take in compassion, others may take in severity.
I pray God, that understands us all better than we
understand one another, continue you, as I hope
he will, at least, within the bounds of loyalty to
his majesty, and natural piety to your country.
And I entreat you much, to meditate sometimes
upon the effect of superstition in this last powder-
treason, fit to be tabled and pictured in the cham-
bers of meditation, as another hell above the
ground ; and well justifying the censure of the
heathen, that "Superstition is far worse than
Atheism," by how much it is less evil to have no
good opinion of God at all, than such as are
impious towards his divine majesty and goodness.
Good Mr. Matthews, receive yourself back from
these courses of perdition. Willing to have written
a great deal more, I continue
Your, etc.
Fr. Bacon.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE EARL OF SALIS-
BURY.
It may p^easr your good Lordship,
I am not ignorant how mean a thing 1 stand for,
in desiring to come into the solicitor's place : for
I know well, it is not the thing it hath been, time
having wrought an alteration, both in the profes-
sion, and in that special place. Yet, because I
think it will increase my practice, and that it may
satisfy my friends, and because I have been voiced
to it, I would be glad it were done. Wherein I
may say to your lordship, in the confidence of
your poor kinsman, and a man by you advanced,
"inidemfer opem qui spem dedisti :" for 1 am
sure, it was not possible for a man living to have
received from another more significant and com-
fortable words of hope: your lordship being
pleased to tell, me, during the course of my last
service, that you would raise me, and that, when
you are resolved to raise a man, you were more care-
ful of him than himself, and that what you had done
for me in my carriage, was a benefit for me, but
of no use to your lordship ; and, therefore, I might
assure myself, you would not leave me there, with
many like speeches ; which I know too well my
duty to take any other hold of, than the hold of a
thankful remembrance: and I know, and all the
world knoweth, that your lordship is no dealer of
holy water, but noble and real ; and on my part,
on sure ground, that I have committed nothing
that may deserve any alteration ; and if I cannot
observe you as I would, your lordship will impute
it to my want of experience, which I shall gather
better, when I am once settled.
And therefore my hope is, your lordship will
finish a good work, and consider, that time
groweth precious, and that I am now " vergenti-
bus annis :" and although I know your fortune is
not to want a hundred such as I am, yet I shall be
ever ready to give you my best and first fruits,
and to supply, as much as in me lieth, a worthi-
ness by thankfulness.
Fr. Bacon.
LORD CHANCELLOR BACON TO THE KING.
It may please your most excellent Majesty.
I dare not presume any more to reply upon your
majesty, but reserve my defence till I attend your
majesty at your happy return, when I hope verily
to approve myself not only a true servant to your
majesty, but a true friend to my Lord of Bucking-
ham ; and for the times also, I hope to give your
majesty a good account, though distance of place
may obscure them. But there is one part of your
majesty's letter, that I could be sorry to take time
to answer ; which is, that your majesty conceives,
that whereas I wrote that the height of my lord's
fortune might make him secure, I mean, that he
was turned proud, or unknowing of himself.
Surely, the opinion I have ever had of my lord
(whereof your majesty is best witness) is far from
that. But my meaning was plain and simple,
that his lordship might, through his great fortune,
be the less apt to cast and foresee the unfaithful-
ness of friends, and the malignity of enemies, and
accidents of times. Which is a judgment (your
majesty knoweth better than I) that the best au-
thors make of the best, and best tempered spirits
" ut sunt res humanae;" insomuch as Guicci-
22
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
ardini maketh the same judgment, not of a parti-
cular person, but of the wisest state of Europe,
the senate of Venice, when he saith, their prospe-
rity had made them secure, and under-weighers
of perils. Therefore, I beseech your majesty, to
deliver me in this, from any the least imputation
to my dear and noble lord and friend. And so
expecting, that that sun which, when it went
from us, left us cold weather, and now it is re-
turned towards us hath brought with it a blessed
harvest, will, when it cometh to us, dispel and
disperse all mists and mistakings.
I am, etc.
July 31, 1617.
THE LORD CHANCELLOR BACON TO THE KING.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
I do many times, with gladness, and for a re-
medy of my other labours, revolve in my mind
the great happiness which God (of his singular
goodness) hath accumulated upon your majesty
every way, and how complete the same would be,
if the state of your means were once rectified, and
well ordered ; your people military and obedient,
tit for war, used to peace ; your church illightened
with good preachers, as a heaven of stars ; your
judges learned, and learning from you, just, and
just by your example; your nobility in a right
distance between crown and people, no oppressors
of the people, no over-sjiadowers of the crown ;
your council full of tributes of care, faith, and
freedom ; your gentlemen, and justices of peace,
willing to apply your royal mandates to the nature
of their several counties, but ready to obey ; your
servants in awe of your wisdom, in hope of your
goodness ; the fields growing every day, by the
improvement and recovery of grounds, from the
desert to the garden ; the city grown from wood
to brick; your sea-walls, or Pomerium of your
island, surveyed, and in edifying ; your merchants
embracing the whole compass of the world, east,
west, north, and south ; the times give you peace,
and, yet offer you opportunities of action abroad ;
and, lastly, your excellent royal issue entaileth
these blessings and favours of God to descend to
all posterity. It resteth, therefore, that God hav-
ing done so great things for your majesty, and
you for others, you would do so much for yourself,
as to go through (according to your good begin-
nings) with the rectifying and settling of your
estate and means, which only is wanting, " Hoc
TPhus defuit unum." 1, therefore, whom only
love and duty to your majesty, and your royal
line, hath made a financier, do intend to present
unto your majesty a perfect book of your estate,
like a perspective glass, to draw your estate nearer
1o your sight ; beseeching your majesty to con-
ceive, that if I have not attained to do that I
would do, in this, which is not proper for me, not
in my element, I shall make your majesty amends
in some other thing, in which I am better bred.
God ever preserve, etc.
Jan. 2, 1618.
THE LORD CHANCELLOR BACON TO THE KING.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
Time hath been, when I have brought unto you
" Gemitum Colunibse" from others, now I bring
it from myself. I fly unto your majesty with the
wings of a dove, which, once within these seven
days, I thought, would have carried me a higher
flight. When I enter into myself, I find not the
materials of such a tempest as is come upon me.
I have been (as your majesty knoweth best)
never author of any immoderate counsel, but
always desired to have things carried " suavibus
modis." I have been no avaricious oppressor of
the people. I have been no haughty, or intole-
rable, or hateful man, in my conversation or car-
riage: I have inherited no hatred from my father,
but am a good patriot born. Whence should this
be; for these are the things that use to raise dis-
likes abroad.
For the House of Commons, I began my
credit there, and now it must be the place of the
sepulture thereof. And yet this Parliament, upon
the message touching religion, the old love re-
vived, and they said, I was the same man still,
only honesty was turned into honour.
For the Upper House, even within these days,
before these troubles, they seemed as to take me
into their arms, finding in me ingenuity, which
they took to be the true straight line of nobleness,
without crooks or angles.
And for the briberies and gifts wherewith I am
charged, when the books of hearts shall be open-
ed, I hope I shall not be found to have the troubled
fountain of a corrupt heart, in a depraved habit of
taking rewards to pervert justice; howsoever I
may be frail, and partake of the abuses of the
times.
And therefore I am resolved, when I come to
my answer, not to trick my innocency (as I writ
to the Lords) by cavillations or voidances; but
to speak to them the langiiage that my heart
speaketh to me, in excusing, extenuating, or in-
genuous confessing; praying God to give me the
grace to see to the bottom of my faults, and that
no hardness of heart do steal upon me, under
show of more neatness of conscience, than i:>
cause.
But not to trouble your majesty any longer,
craving pardon for this long mourning letter; that
which I thirst after, as the hart after the streams,
is, that I may know, by my matchless friend that
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
23
presenteth to you this letter, your majesty's heart '
(which is an abyssus of goodness, as I am an
abyssus of misery) towards me. I have been
ever your man, and counted myself but an
usufructuary of myself,^ the property being yours.
And now making myself an oblation, to do with
me as may best conduce to the honour of your
justice, the honour of your mercy, and the use of
your service, resting as
Clay in your majesty's gracious hands,
Fr. St. Alban, Can.
March 25, 1620.
BIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE KING, UPON THE
SENDING UNTO HIM A BEGINNING OF A HIS-
TORY OF HIS MAJESTY'S TIME.
It may PLEASE YOUR MaJESTY,
Hearing that you are at leisure to peruse story,
a desire took me to make an experiment what I
could do in your majesty's times, which, being
but a leaf or two, I pray your pardon, if I send
it for your recreation, considering, that love must
creep where it cannot go. But to this I add
these petitions: first, that if your majesty do dis-
like any thing, you would conceive I can amend
it upon your least beck. Next, that if I have
not spoken of your majesty encomiastically, your
majesty will be pleased only to ascribe it to the
law of a history, which doth not clutter together
praises upon the first mention of a name, but
rather disperseth them, and weaveth them
throughout the whole narration. And as for the
proper place of commemoration, (which is in the
periodof life,) I pray God I may never live to
write it. Thirdly, that the reason why I pre- j
Bumed to think of this oblation, was because, |
whatsoever my disability he, yet I shall have that
advantage which almost no writer of history hath
had, in that I shall write the times, not only
since I could remember, but since I could ob-
serve. And, lastly, that it is only for your ma-
jesty's reading.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE LORD CHANCEL-
lor, touching the history of britain.
It may please your good Lordship,
Some late act of his majesty, referred to some
former speech which I have heard from your
lordsh'ip, bred in me a great desire, and by
strength of desire a boldness, to make an humble
proposition to your lordship, such as in me can
be no better than a wish ; but if your lordship
should apprehend it, it may take some good and
worthy effect. The act I speak of, is the order
given by his majesty for the erection of a tomb
or monument for our late sovereign, Queen Eliza-
beth; wherein I may note much, but this at thia
time, that as her majesty did always right to hia
majesty's hopes, so his highness doth, in all
things, right to her memory; a very just and
princely retribution. But from this occasion, by
a very easy ascent, I passed farther, being put in
mind, by this representative of her person, of the
more true and more perfect representative, which
is, of her life and government. For as statues
and pictures are dumb histories, so histories are
speaking pictures ; wherein (if my affection be
not too great, or my reading too small) I am of
this opinion, that if Plutarch were alive to write
lives by parallels, it would trouble him, for virtue
and fortune both, to find for her a parallel amongst
women. And though she was of the passive
sex, yet her government was so active, as, in my
simple opinion, it made more impression upon
the several states of Europe, than it received
from thence. But I confess unto your lordship,
I could not stay here, but went a little farther into
the consideration of the times which have passed
since King Henry the Eighth ; wherein I find
the strangest variety, that in so little number of
successions of any hereditary monarchy, hath
ever been known; the reign of a child, the offer
of a usurpation, though it were but as a diary
ague; the reign of a lady married to a foreigner,
and the reign of a lady, solitary and unmarried :
So that, as it cometh to pass, in massive bodies,
that they have certain trepidations, and waver-
ings, before they fix and settle; so it seemeth,
that by the providence of God, this monarchy
(before it was to settle in his majesty and his
generations, in which I hope it is now establish-
ed forever) hath had these preclusive changes in
these barren princes. Neither could I contain
myself here, (as it is easier for a man to multiply,
than to stay a wish,) but calling to remembrance
the unworthiness of the History of England, in
the main continuance thereof, and the partiality
and obliquity of that of Scotland, in the latest
and largest author that I have seen; I conceived,
it would be an honour for his majesty, and a
work very memorable, if this island of Great
Britain, as it is now joined in monarchy for the
ages to come, so it were joined in history for the
times past; and that one just and complete his-
tory were compiled of both nations. And if anj'
man think, it may refresh the memory of former
discord, he may satisfy himself with the verse,
"Olim hsBC meminisse juvabit." For the case
being now altered, it is matter of comlo:t and
gratulation, to remember former troubles. Thus
much, if i-t may please your lordship, was in the
optative mood, and it was time that I should look
a little into the potential ; wherein the hope that
1 received was grounded upon three observations.
The first, of these times, which flourish in learn-
ing, both of art, and language, wnich givetti
hope, not only that it may be done, but that »♦
24
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA,
xnay be well done. Secondly, I do see that which
all the world sees in his majesty, a wonderful
judgment in learning, and a singular affi'Ction
towards learning, and works which are of the
mind, and not of the hand. For there cannot be
the like honour sought in building of galleries,
and planting of elms along highways, and the
outward ornaments wherein France now is busy,
(things rather of magnificence than of magnani-
mity,) as there is in the uniting of states, pacify-
ing of controversies, nourishing and augmenting
of learning and arts, and the particular action
appertaining unto these; of which kind Cicero
judged truly, when he said to Caesar, "Quantum
operibus tuis detrahet vetuslas, tantum addet
laudibus." And, lastly, I called to mind, that
your lordship, at some times, hath been pleased to
express unto me a great desire, that something
of this matter should be done, answerable indeed
to your other noble and worthy courses and ac-
tions; joining, and adding unto the great ser-
vices towards his majesty (which have in small
compass of time been performed by your lord-
ship) other great deservings, both of the church,
and commonwealth, and particulars: so as the
opinion of so great and wise a man doth seem to
me a good warrant, both of the possibility, and
worth of the matter. But all this while, I assure
myself, I cannot be mistaken by your lordship,
as if I sought an office or employment for myself;
for no man knows better than your lordship, that
if there were in me any faculty thereunto, yet
neither my course of life, nor profession would
permit it. But because there be so many good
painters, both for hand and colours, it needeth
but encouragement and instructions to give life
unto it. So, in all humbleness, I conclude my
presenting unto your lordship this wish, which
if it perish, it is but a loss of that which is not.
And so craving pardon that I have taken so much
time from your lordship, I remain, etc.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE KING, ABOUT THE
PARDON OF THE PARLIAMENT'S SENTENCE.
Most gracious and uread Sovereign,
Before I make my petition to your majesty, I
make my prayers to God above, "pectore ah
imo," that if I have held any thing so dear as
your majesty's service, (nay) your heart's ease,
and your honour, I may be repulsed with a denial.
But if that hath been the principal with me, that
God, who knoweth my heart, would move your
majesty's royal heart to take compassion of me,
and to grant my desire.
I prostrate myself at your majesty's feet; I,
your ancient servant, now sixty-four years old in
a^e, and three years and five months old in
rnise/y. I desire not from your majesty means, I
nor place, nor employment; but only, after so
long a time of expiation, a complete and total
remission of the sentence of the Upper House,
to the end that blot of ignominy may be
removed from me, and f^pm my memory with
' posterity, that I die not a condemned man, but
may be to your majesty, as I am to God, "nova
creatura." Your majesty hath pardoned the like
to Sir John Bennet, between whose case and mine
; (not being partial to myself, but speaking out of
j the general opinion) there was as much difference,
I will not say, as between black and white, but
as between black and grey, or ash-coloured ; look,
therefore, down (dear sovereign) upon me also in
pity. I know your majesty's heart is inscrutable
for goodness ; and my Lord of Buckingham was
wont to tell me, you were the best natured man
in the world; and it is God's property, that those
he hath loved, he loveth to the end. Let your
majesty's grace, in this my desire, stream down
upon me, and let it be out of the fountain and
spring-head, and "ex mero motu," that living or
dying, the print of the goodness of King James
may be in my heart, and his praises in my mouth.
This my most humble request granted, may make
me live a year or two happily; and denied, will
kill me quickly. But yet the last thing that will
die in me will be the heart and affection of
Your majesty's most humble and
true devoted servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
July 30, 1624.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE KING, UPON PRE-
SENTING Ills DISCOURSE, TOUCHING THE PLAN-
TATION OF IRELAND.
It may PLEASE YOUR MOST EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
I know no better way how to express my good
wishes of a new year to your majesty, than by
this little book, which in all humbleness I send
you. The style is a style of business, rather
than curious or elaborate, and herein I was en-
couraged by my experience of your majesty's
former grace, in accepting of the like poor field-
fruits, touching the union. And certainly I reckon
this action as a second brother to the union, for I
assure myself, that England, Scotland, and Ire-
land, well united, is such a trefoil as no prince
except yourself (who are the worthiest) weareth
in his crown, " si potentia reducatur in actum."
I know well that for me to beat my brains about
these things, they be " majora quam pro fortuna,"
but yet they be " minora quam pro studio et
voluntate." For as I do yet bear an extreme zeal
to the memory of my old mistress. Queen Eliza-
beth, to whom I was rather bound for her trust
than for her favour; so I must acknowledge my-
self more bound to your majesty, both for trust
and favour; whereof I will never deceive the
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
25 '
one, as I can never deserve the other. And so,
in all humbleness kissing your majesty's sacred
hands, 1 remain
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE EARL OF SALISBURY,
UPON SENDING HIM ONE OF HIS BOOKS OF AD-
VANCEMENT OF LEARNING.
It MAY PLEASE YOUR GOOD LoRDSHIP,
I present your lordship with a work of my
vacant time, which if it had been more, the work
had been better. It appertaineth to your lordship
(besides my particular respects) in some propriety,
in regard you are a great governor in a province
of learning, and (that which is more) you have
added to your place affection towards learning,
and to your affection judgment, of which the last
I could be content were (for the time) less, that
youmight the less exquisitely censure that which
I offer to you. But sure I am, the argument is
good, if it had lighted upon a good author; but I
shall content myself to awake better spirits, like
a bellringer which is first up, to call others to
church. So, with my humble desire of your
lordship's good acceptation, I remain
THE LORD CHANCELLOR BACON TO THE LORDS.
It may please your Lordships,
I shall humbly crave at your lordships' hands
a benign interpretation of that which I shall now
write; for words that come from wasted spirits,
and an oppressed mind, are more safe in being
deposited in a noble construction, than in being
circled with any reserved caution. Having made
this as a protection to all which I shall say, I will
go on, but with a very strange entrance, (as may
seeta to your lordships at the first;) for in the
midst of a state of as great affliction as I think
a mortal man can endure, (honour being above
life,) I shall begin with the professing gladness
in some things.
The first is, that hereafter the greatness of a
judge or magistrate shall be no sanctuary, or
protection to him against guiltiness ; which, in
few words, is the beginning of a golden world.
The next, that after this example, it is like that
judges will fly from any thing in the likeness of
corruption, (though it were at a great distance,) as
from a serpent ; which tendeth to the purging of the
courts of justice, and reducing them to their true
honour and splendour. And in these two points,
God is my witness, (though it be my fortune to be
the anvil, upon which these good effects are beaten
and wrought,) I take no small comfort. But to
pass from the motions of my heart, whereof God
is only judge, to the merits of my cause, whereof
your lordships are only judges, under God, and
Vol. III.— 4
his lieutenant, I do understand, there hath been
expected from me, heretofore, some justification,
and therefore I have chosen one only justification
instead of all others, out of the justification of
Job ; for, after the clear submission and confes-
sion which I shall now make unto your lordships,
I hope I may say, and justify with Job, in these
words, "I have not hid my sin, as did Adam, nor
concealed my faults in my bosom." This is the
only justification I will use : it resteth, therefore,
that, without fig-leaves, I do ingenuously confess
and acknowledge, that having understood the
particulars of the charge, not formally from' the
House, but enough to inform my conscience and
memory, I find matter both sufficient and full, to
move me to desert the defence, and to move your
lordships to condemn and censure me. Neither
will I trouble your lordships by singling out parti-
culars, which I think may fall off: "Quid te ex-
empta juvat spinis do millibus una]" Neither
will I prompt your lordships to observe upon the
proofs, where they come not home, or the scruples
touching the credit of the witnesses : Neither
will I present unto your lordships, how far a
defence might in divers things extenuate the
offence, in respect of the time, or manner of the
gift, or the like circumstances ; but only leave
these things to spring out of your own noble
thoughts, and observations of the evidence, and
examinations themselves, and charitably to wind
about the particulars of the charge here and there,
as God shall put in your minds ; and so submit
myself wholly to your piety and grace.
And now that I have spoken to your lordshipa
as judges, I shall say a few words unto you as
peers and prelates, humbly commending my cause
to your noble minds, and magnanimous affections.
Your lordships are not only judgt-;, but parlia-
mentary judges ; you have a farther extent of
arbitrary power than other courts : and if you be
not tied to the ordinary course of courts or prece-
dents, in point of strictness and severity, much
more in points of mercy and mitigation. And
yet, if anything I should move might be contrary
to your honourable and worthy ends to introduce
a reformation, I should not seek it, but herein 1
beseech your lordships to give me leave to tell
you a story. Titus Manlius took his son's life
for giving battle against the prohibition of his
general. Not many years after, the like severity
was pursued by Papirius Cursur, the dictator,
against Quintus Maximus, who, being upon
the point to be sentenced, was, by the interces-
sion of some principal persons of the senate,
spared ; whereupon Livy maketh this grave and
gracious observation : " Neque minus firmata
est disciplina militaris perioulo Quinti Maximi.
quam miserabili supplicio Titi Manlii." The
discipline of war was no less established by the
questioning only of Quintus Maximus than by
the punishment of Titus Manlius. And the same
C
20
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
roason is of the reformation of justice, for the
questioning of men of eminent place hath the
same terror, though not the same rigour with the
punishment. But my case stayeth not there; for
my humble desire is, that his majesty would take
the seal into his hands, which is a great downfall,
and may serve, I hope, in itself, for an expiation
of my faults.
Therefore, if mercy and mitigation be in your
lordships' power, and do no ways cross your ends,
why should 1 not hope of your favours and com-
miserations I Your lordships may be pleased to
behold your chief pattern, the king our sovereign,
a king of incomparable clemency, and whose
heart is inscrutable for wisdom and goodness.
You well remember, that there sat not these hun-
dred years before, in your house, a prince (and
never such a prince) whose presence deserveth to
be made memorable by records and acts, mixed
of mercy and justice. Yourselves are either no-
bles, (and compassion ever beateth in the veins
of noble blood,) or reverend prelates, who are the
servants of him that would not break the bruised
reed, nor quench smoking flax.
You all sit upon a high stage, and therefore
cannot but be more sensible of the changes of
human condition, and of the fall of any from high
places. Neither will your lordships forget that
there are "vitia temporis," as well as "vitia
hominis," and that the beginning of reformation
hath a contrary power to the pool of Bethseda, for
that had strength only to cure him that first cast
in, and this hath strength to hurt him only that is
first cast in ; and for my part, I wish it may stay
there, and go no farther.
Lastly, I assure myself, your lordships have a
noble feeling of me, as a member of your own
body ; and one that, in this very session, had some
taste of your loving affections, which I hope was
not a lightning before the death of them, but rather
a spark of that grace which now, in the conclu-
sion, will more appear. And, therefore, my hum-
ble suit to your lordships is, that my voluntary
confession may be my sentence, and the loss of
the seal my punishment, and that your lordships
will spare any farther sentence, but recommend
me to his majesty's grace and pardon for all that
is past. And so, etc.
Your lordships', etc
Francis St. Alban, Can.
the lord chancellor bacon to the duke.
My very good Lord,
My Lord of Suffolk's cause is this day sen-
♦enced. My lord, and his lady, fined at £30,000,
with imprisonment in the Tower at their own
charges. Bingley at £2,000, an--' '•omniitted to
the Fleet; Sir Edward Coke did his part, I have
net heard him do better : and began with a fine of
a £100,000. But the judges first, and most
of the rest, reduced it as before. 1 do not dislike
tliat things pass moderately, and, all things con-
sidered, it is not amiss, and might easily have
been worse. There was much speaking of inter-
ceding for the king's mercy, which (in my opinion)
was not so proper for a sentence : I said, in con
elusion, that mercy was to come " ex mero motu,"
and so left it. I took some other occasion perti-
nent to do the king honour, by showing hovv
happy he was in all other parts of his govern-
ment, save only in the manage of his treasure by
these officers.
I have sent the king a new bill for Sussex, for
my liord of Nottingham's certificate was true, and
I told the judges of it before, but they neglected
it. I conceive the first man (which is newly set
down) is the fittest. God ever preserve and keep
you, etc.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE LORD TREASURER
BUCKHIIRST, UPON THE SAME OCCASION OF
SENDING HIS BOOK OF ADVANCEMENT OF
LEARNING.
May it please your good Lordship,
I have finished a work touching the advance-
ment or setting forward of learning, which I have
dedicated to his majesty, the most learned of a
sovereign, or temporal prince, that time hath
known. And upon reason not unlike, I humbly
present one of the books to your lordship, not only
as a chancellor of a university, but as one that
was excellently bred in all learning, which I have
ever noted to shine in all your speeches and be-
haviours. And therefore your lordship will yield
a gracious aspect to your first love, and lake plea-
sure in the adorning of that wherewith yourself
are so much adorned. And so, humbly desiring
your favourable acceptation thereof, with signifi-
cation of my humble duty, I remain
A LETTER OF THE LIKE ARGUMENT TO THE LORD
CHANCELLOR.
May it please your good Lordship,
I humbly present your lordship with a work,
wherein, as you have much commandment over
the author, so your lordship hath also great
interest in the argument. For, to speak without
flattery, few have like use of learning, or like
judgment in learning, as I have observed in your
lordship. And, again, your lordship hath been a
great planter of learning, not only in those places
in the church which have been in your own gift,
but also in your commendatory vote, no man hath
more constantly held, " detur digniori;" and,
therefore, both your lordship is beholden to learn-
ing, and learning beholden to you. Which
maketh me presume, with good assurance, that
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
27
your lordship will accept well of these my
labours, the rather because your lordship in pri-
vate speech hath often begun to me, in expressing
your admiration of his majesty's learning, to
whom I have dedicated this work ; and, whose
virtue and perfection in that kind, did chiefly
move me to a work of this nature. And, so with
sio'nification of my most humble duty and affec-
tion towards your lordship, I remain, etc.
SIR FRANCIS BACON, OF THE LIKE ARGUMENT,
TO THE EARL OF NORTHAMPTON, WITH RE-
QUEST TO PRESENT THE BOOK TO HIS MA-
JESTY.
It may please your good Lordship,
Having finished a work touching the advance-
ment of learning, and dedicated the same to his
sacred majesty, whom I dare avouch (if the
records of time err not) to be the learnedest king
that hath reigned; I was desirous in a kind of
congruity, to present it by the learnedest coun-
sellor in this kingdom, to the end, that so good
an argument, lightening upon so bad an author,
might receive some reparation by the hands into
which, and by which, it should be delivered.
And, therefore, I make it my humble suit to your
lordship to present this mean, but well meant
writing to his majesty, and with it my humble
and zealous duty; and also my like humble
request of pardon, if I have too often taken his
name in vain, not only in the dedication, but in
the voucher of the authority of his speeches and
writinsfs. And so I remain, &c.
SIR FRANCIS BACON, HIS LETTER OF REQUEST
TO DOCTOR PLAYFER, TO TRANSLATE THE
BOOK OF ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING INTO
LATIN.
Mr. Doctor Playfer,
A great desire will take a small occasion to
hope, and put in trial that which is desired. It
pleased you a good while since, to express unto
me, the good liking which you conceive of my
book, of tlie Advancement of Learning, and that
more significantly (as it seemed to me) than out
of courtesy, or civil respect. Myself, as I then
took contentment in your approbation thereof, so
I should esteem and acknowledge, not only my
contentment increased, but my labours advanced,
if I might obtain your help in that nature which
I desire. Wherein, before I set down in plain
terms my request unto you, I will open myself,
what it was which I chiefly sought, and pro-
pounded to myself, in that work, that you may
perceive that which I now desire to be pursuant
thereupon, if I do not err. (For any judgment
that a man maketh of his own doings, had need
be spoken with a " Si nunquam fallit imago.") I
have this opinion, that if I had sought my own
commendation, it had been a much fitter course
for me, to have done as gardeneis use to do, by
taking their seeds and slips, and rearing them
first into plants, and so uttering them in pots,
when they are in flower, and in their best state.
But, forasmuch, as my end was merit of the state
of learning, to my power, and not glory ; and,
because my purpose was rather to excite otiier
men's wits, than to magnify my own, I was
desirous to prevent the uncertainness of my own
life and times, by uttering rather seeds than
plants ; nay, and farther, as the proverb is, by
sowing with the basket, than with the hand.
Wherefore, since 1 have only taken upon me to
ring a bell, to call other wits together, (which is
the meanest office,) it cannot but be consonant to
my desire, to have tliat bell heard as far as can
be. And, since that they are but sparks, which
can work but upon matter prepared, I have the
more reason to wish, that those sparks may fly
abroad, that they may the better find, and light
upon those minds and spirits which are apt to be
kindled. And, therefore, the privateness of the
language considered wherein it is written, exclud-
ing so many readers, (as, on the other side, the
obscurity of the argument, in many parts of it,
excludeth many others;) I must account it a
second birth of that work, if it might be translated
into Latin, without manifest loss of the sense and
matter. For this purpose, I could not represent
to myself any man, into whose hands I do more
earnestly desire that work should fall, than your-
self; for, by that I have heard and read, I know
no man a greater master in commanding words
to serve matter. Nevertheless, I am not ignorant
of the worth of your labours, whether such as
your place and profession imposeth on you, or
such as your own virtue may, upon your volun-
tary election, take in hand. But I can lay before
you no other persuasions, than either the work
itself may affect you with, or the honour of his
majesty, to whom it is dedicated, or your parti-
cular inclination to myself; who, as I never took
so much comfort in any labours of my own, so I
shall never acknowledge myself more obliged in
any thing to the labour of another, than in that
which shall assist this. Which your labour if I
can, by mv place, profession, means, friends,
travail, word, deed, requite unto you, I shall
esteem myself so straitly bound thereunto, as I
shall be ever most ready, both to take and seek
occasions of thankfulness. And so leaving it,
nevertheless, "Salva amicitia," (as reason is,) to
your own good liking, I remain, etc.
SIR FRANCIS BACON. TO SIR THOMAS BODLEY.
I UPON SENDING HIM HIS BOOK OF THE AP
I VANCEMENT OF LEARNING.
i Sir,
! T think no man may more trulj' say witli tim
, psalm, "multum incola fuitanima mea." For I
2»
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
do confess, since I was of any understandintr, my
mind hatli, in elFect, been absent from that I have
done, and in absence errors are committed, which
I do willinirly acknowledge; and amongst the
rest, this great one that led the rest; that know-
ing myself by inward calling to be fitter to hold a
book, than to play a part, 1 have led my life in
civil causes, for which I was not very fit by
nature, and more unfit by the preoccupation of
my mind. Therefore, calling myself home, I
have now for a time enjoyed myself, where like-
wise I desire to make the world partaker; my
labours (if so I may term that which was the
comfort of my other labours) I have dedicated to
the king, desirous, if there be any good in them,
it may be as fat of a sacrifice incensed to his
honour ; and the second copy I have sent unto
you, not only in good affection, but in a kind of
congruity, in regard of your great and rare desert
of learning: for books are the shrines where the
saint is, or is believed to be. And, you having
built au-ark, to save learning from deluge, deserve,
in propriety, any new instrument or engine,
whereby learning should be improved or advanced.
So, etc.
SIR THOMAS nODLEY TO SIR FRANCIS BACON,
UPON HIS NEW PHILOSOPHY.
Sir,
As soon as the term was ended, supposing your
leisure was more than before, I was coming to
thank you two or three times, rather choosing to
do it by word than letter; but I was still disap-
pointed of my purpose, as I am at this present
upon an urgent occasion, which doth tie me fast
to Fulham, and hath now made me determine to
impart my mind in writing, I think you know I
have read your "Cogitata et visa;" which, I
protest, I have done with great desire, reputing it
a token of your singular love, that you joined me
with those your friends, to whom you would
commend the first perusal of your draught; for
which I pray give me leave to say but this unto
you. First, that if the depth of my affection to
your person and spirit, to your works and your
words, and to all your ability, were as highly to
be valued as your affection is to me, it might
walk with your's arm in arm, and claim your
love by just desert; but there can be no compa-
rison, where our states are so uneven, and our
means to demonstrate our aflTections, so indiffer-
ent: insomuch as, for mine own, I must leave it
to be prized in the nature that it is; and you
shall evermore find it most addicted to your worth.
As touching the subject of your book, you have
set afoot so many noble speculations, as I cannot
choose but wonder and I. shall wonder at it ever,
that your expense of time considered in your
jmblic profession, which hath in a manner no
acquaintance with scholarship or learning, you
should have culled forth tlie quintessence, and
sucked up the sap of the chief^st kind of learn-
ing. For, howsowever, in some points, you do
vary altogether from that which is and hath been
ever the received doctrine of our schools, and
was always by the wisest (as still they have been
deemed) of ail nations and ages, adjudged tho
truest; yet it is apparent, in those very points, in
all your proposals and plots in that book, you
show yourself a master workman. For myself,
I must confess, and I speak it ingenue, that for
the matter of learning, I am not worthy to be
reckoned in the number of smatterers; and yet,
because it may seem that being willing to com-
municate your treatise with your friends, you are
likewise willing to listen to whatsoever I or
others can except against it ; I must deliver unto
you, for my private opinion, that I am one of the
crew, that say there is, and we profess a greater
holdfast of certainty in your sciences, than you
by your discourse will seem to acknowledge :
for where, at first, you do object the ill success
and errors of practitioners of physic, you know
as well, they do proceed of the patient's unruli-
ness, for not one of a hundred doth obey his
physician in their own indisposition ; for few are
able in that kind to explicate themselves; or by
reason their diseases are by nature incurable,
which is incident, you know, to many sort of
maladies; or for some other hidden cause, which
cannot be discovered by course of conjecture;
howbeit, I am full of this belief, that as physic
is ministered now-a-days by physicians, it is
much ascribed to their negligence or ignorance,
or other touch of imperfection, that they speed no
better in their practice: for few are found, of
that profession, so well instructed in their art, as
they might by the precepts which their art doth
afford; which, though it be defective in regard of
such perfection, yet for certain it doth flourish
with admirable remedies, such as tract of time
hath taught by experimental effects, and are the
open highway to that knowledge that you re-
commend. As for alchemy, and magic, some
conclusions they have that are worthy the pre-
serving: but all their skill is so accompanied
with subtilties and guiles, as both the crafts and
the crafts-masters are not only despised, but named
with derision. Whereupon to make good your
principal asserti(m, methinks you should have
drawn tlie most of your examples from that
which is taught in the liberal sciences, not by
picking out cases that happen very seldom, and
may, by all confession, be subject to reproof, but
by controlling the generals, and grounds, and
eminent positions and aphorisms, which the
greatest artists and philosophers have from time
to time defended ; for it goeth for current among
all men of learninsr, that those kinds of arts
which clerks in times past did term Quadrivials,
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
confirm theii propositions by infallible demon-
strations. And liliowise in Trivials, such les-
sons and directions are delivered unto us, as will
effect very near, or as much altogether, as every
faculty doth promise. Now, in case we should
concur to do as you advise, which is, to renounce
our common notions, and cancel all our theorems,
axioms, rules, and tenets, and so to come babes
"ad rejrnum naturae," as we are willed by scrip-
tures to come " ad regnum coelorum." There is
nothintr more certain, in my understanding, than
that it would instantly bring us to barbarism,
and, after many thousand years, leave us more
unprovided of theorical furniture, than we are at
this present: For that were indeed to become
"Tabula rasa," when we shall leave no impres-
sion of any former principles, but be driven to
bejTJn the world again, to travel by trials of
actions and sense, (which are your proofs by
particulars,) what to place in "intellectu" for our
general conceptions, it being a maxim of all
men's approving; "in intellectu nihil esse quod
non prius fuit in sensu." And so in appearance
it would befall us, that till Plato's year be come
about, our insight in learning would be of less
reckoning than now it is accounted. As for that
which you inculcate, of a knowledge more
excellent than now is among us, which expe-
rience might produce, if we would but essay to
extract it out of nature by particular probations,
it is no more upon the matter, but to incite us
unto that which, without instigation, by a natu-
ral instinct men will practise themselves ; for it
cannot in reason be otherwise thought, but that
there are infinite, in all parts of the world, (for
we may not in this case confine our cogitations
within the bounds of Europe,) which embrace the
course which you purpose, with all diligence
and care, that any ability can perform. For
every man is born with an appetite of knowledge,
wherewith he cannot be glutted, but still, as in a
dropsy, thirst after more. But yet, why men
should so hearken to and such persuasions, as
wholly to abolish those settled opinions, and
general theorems, to which they have attained by
their own and their ancestors' experience, I see
nothing alleged to induce me to think it. More-
over, I may speak, as I suppose, with good pro-
bability, that if _we should make a mental survey,
what is like to be effected all the world over;
those five or six inventions which you have
selected, and imagined to be but of modern
standing, would make but a slender show among
so many hundreds of all kinds of natures, which
are daily brought to light by the enforcement of
wit or casual events, and may be compared, or
partly preferred, above those that you have
named. Hut were it so here, that all were ad-
mitted that you can require, for the augmentation
of our knowledge, and that all our theorems and
general positions were utterly extinguished with
a new substitution of others in their places, what
hope may we have of any benefit of learning by
this alteration] assuredly, as soon as the new
are brought ad uxfiTjv by the inventors and their
followers, by an interchangeable course of
natural things, they will fall by degrees in
oblivion to be buried, and so in continuance to
perish outright; and that perchance upon the
like to your present pretences, by proposal of
some means to advance all our knowledge to a
higher pitch of perfectness; for still the same
defects that antiquity found, will reside in man-
kind, and tlierefore other issues of their actions,
devices, and studies, are not to be expected than
is apparent, by records, were in former times
observed. I remember here a note which Pater-
culus made of the incomparable wits of the
Grecians and Romans, in tlieir flourishing state;
that there might be this reason of their notable
downfall, in their issue that came after, because
by nature, "Quod summo studio petitum est,
ascendit in summum, difficilisque in perfecto mora
est;" insomuch that men perceiving that they
could not go farther, being come to the stop, they
turned back again of their own accord, forsaking
those studies that are most in request, and be-
taking themselves to new endeavours, as it the
thing they sought had been by prevention fore-
prized by others. So it fared in particular with
the eloquence of that age, that when their suc-
cessors found that hardly they could equal, by
no means excel their predecessors, they began to
neglect the study thereof, and speak for many
hundred years in a rustical manner, till this later
resolution brought the wheel about again, by
inflaming gallant spirits to give tl e onset a fresh,
with straining and striving to climb unto the top
and height of perfection, not in that gift alone,
but in every other skill in any part of learning.
F^r I do not hold it any erroneous conceit to
think of every science, that as now they are pro-
fessed, so they have been before in all precedent
ages, though not alike in all places, nor at all
times alike in one and the same; but according
to the changes and turning of times with a more
exact and plain, or with a more rude and obscure
kind of teaching.
And if the question should be asked, what
proof I have of it ; I have the doctrine of Aris-
totle, and of the deepest learned clerks, of whom
we have any means to take any notice ; that as
there is of other things, so there is of sciences,
" ortus et interitus;" which is also the meaning
(if I should expound it) of " nihil novum sub
sole," and is as well to be applied " ad facta," as
"ad dicta; ut nihil neque dictum neque factum,
quod non est dictum aut factum prius." I have
f irther for my warrant, that famous complaint of
Solomon to his son, against the infinite making
j of books in his time, of which, in all congruity,
1 great part were of observations ana insiructiona
80
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
in all kind of literature, and of those there is not
now so much as one pamphlet (only some parcels
of the Bible excepted) remaining to posterity.
As then there was not in like manner to be found
any footing of millions of authors that were long
before Solomon, and yet we must give credit to
that which he affirmed ; that whatsoever was then
or before, it could never be truly pronounced of
it, " Behold, this is new." Whereupon I must
for my final conclusion infer, seeing all the en-
deavours, study, and knowledge of mankind, in
whatsoever art or science, have ever been the
same as they are at this present, though full of
mutabilities, according to the changes and acci-
dental occasions of ages and countries, and clerks'
dispositions ; which can never but be subject to
intention and remission, both in their devices and
practices of their knowledge. If now we should
accord in opinion with you ; first, to condemn
our present knowledge of doubt and incertitude
(which you confer but by averment) without
other force of argument, and then to disclaim all
our axioms and maxims, and general assertions
that are left by tradition from our elders to us;
which, (for so it is to be pretended) have passed
all probations of the sharpest wits that ever were
Abecedarii, by the frequent spelling of particulars,
to come to the notice of new generals, and so
afresh to create new principles of sciences, the'
end of all would be, that when we should be dis-
possessed of the learning which we have, all our
consequent travail will but help us in a circle, to
conduct us to the place from whence we set for-
wards, and bring us to the happiness to be
restored " in integrum," which will require as
many ages as have marched before us, to be per-
fectly achieved. And this I write, with no dis-
like of increasing our knowledge with new-found
devices, (which is undoubtedly a practice of
high commendation) in regard of the benefit they
will yield for the present, that the world hath
ever been, and will forever continue, very full of
such devisers; whose industry that way hath
been very obstinate and eminent, and hath pro-
duced strange effects, above the reach and the
hope of men's common capacities ; and yet our
notions and theorems have always kept in grace
both with them, and with the rarest that ever
A ere named among the learned.
By this you see to what boldness I am brought
by your kindness ; that (if I seem to be too saucy
in this contradiction) it is the opinion that I hold
of your noble disposition, and of the freedom in
these cases, that you will afford your special
friend, that hath induced me to it. And although
I myself, like a carrier's horse, cannot baulk the
Deaten way, in which I have been trained, yet
S'nce it is my censure of your Cogitata that I
must te.l you, to be p.ain, you have very much
wror.ged yourself and the world, to smother such
• rreasure so long in your coffer: for though I
stand well assured (for the tenor and subject of
your main discourse) you are not able to impanel
a jury in any university that will give up a ver-
dict to acquit you of error ; yet it cannot be gain-
said, that all your treatise over doth abound with
choice conceit of the present state of learning,
and with so worthy contemplations of the meana
to procure it, as may persuade with any student
to look more narrowly to his business, not only
by aspiring to the greatest perfection, of that
which is now-a-days divulged in the sciences,
but by diving yet deeper, as it were, into the
bowels and secrets of nature, and by enforcing of
the powers of his judgment and wit to learn of
St. Paul, "Consectari meliora dona:" which
course, would to God (to whisper so much into
your ear) you had followed at the first, when
you fell to the study of such a study as was not
worthy such a student. Nevertheless, being so
as it is, that you are therein settled, and your
country soundly served ; I cannot but wish with
all my heart, as I do very often, that you may
gain a fit reward to the full of your deserts, which
I hope will come with heaps of happiness and
honour.
Yours to be used, and commanded,
Tho. Bodley.
From Fulham, Feb. 19, 1G07
Sir, — One kind of boldness doth draw on
another; insomuch as methinks I should offend
to signify, that before the transcript of your book
be fitted for the press, it will be requisite for you
to cast a censor's eye upon the style and the elo-
cution; which, in the framing of some periods,
and in divers words and phrases, will hardly go
for current, if the copy brought to me be just the
same that you would publish.
Tho. Bodley.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE BISHOP OF ELY, UPON
SENDING HIS WRITING INTITULED, COGITATA
ET VISA.
My VERY good Lord,
Now, your lordship hath been so long in the
church and the palace, disputinnf between kings
and popes, methinks you should take pleasure to
look into the field, and refresh your mind with
some matter of philosophy ; though that science
be now, through age, waxed a child again, and
left to boys and young men. And because vou
are wont to make me believe you took liking to
my writings, I send you some of this vacation
fruits, and thus much more for my mind and pur-
pose. "I hasten not to publish, perishing I
wouVd prevent." And I am foiced to respect as
well my times, as the matter ; for with me it is
thus, and I think with all men, in my case • if I
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
31
Dind myself to an arjrumfnt, it loadeth my mind ;
bill it 1 rid my mind of the present Cogitation, it
is rather a recreation : this hath put me into these
miscellanies, which I purpose to suppress, if God
tjive me leave to write a just and perfect volume
of philosophy, which 1 go on with, though slowly.
I send not your lordship too much, lest it may
glut y.-^a. Now, let me tell you what my desire
is. If your lordship be so good now as when
you were the good Dean of Westminster, my
request to you is, that not by pricks, but by notes,
yon would mark unto me whatsoever shall seom
unto you either not current in the style, or harsh
to credit and opinion, or inconvenient for the per-
son of the writer, for no man can be judge and
party; and when our minds judge by reflection
on ourselves, they are more subject to error. And
though, for the matter itself, my judgment be in
some things fixed, and not accessible by any
man's judgment that goeth not my way, yet even
in those things the admonition of a friend may
make me expi !ss myself diversely. I would have
come to your lordsliip, but that I am hastening to
my house in the country, and so I commend your
lordship to God's goodness.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO SIR THOMAS BODI.EY,
AFTFR HE HAD IMPARTED TO HIM A WRITING
INTITULED, "COGITATA ET VISA."
Sir,
In respect of my going down to my house in
the country, I shall have miss of my papers,
which, I pray you, therefore, return unto me.
You are, I bear you witness, slothful, and you
help me nothing ; so as I am half in conceit that
you affect not the argument; for myself, I know
well you love and affect. I can say no more to
you, hut, " non canimus surdis, respondent omnia
silvae." If you be not of the lodgings chalked
up, (whereof I speak in my preface,) I am but to
pass by your door. But if I had you but a fort-
night at Gorhambury, I would make you tell me
another tale, or else I would add a cogitation
against libraries, and be revenged on you that
way : I pray you send me some good news of Sir
Thomas Smith, and commend me very kindly to
him. So I rest.
BIR FRANCIS BACON TO MR. MATTHEW, UPON
SENDING HIM PART OF INSTAURATIO MAGNA.
Mr. Matthew,
I plainly perceive by your affectionate writing
touching my work, th^t one and the same thing
affecteth us both, which is the good end to which
it is dedicated: for as to any ability of mine, it
cannot merit that degree of approbation. For
your caut:on for church men, and church matters,
(as for any impediment it might be to the ap])IausH
and celebrity of my work, it moveth me not] but
as it may hinder the fruit and good which may
come of a quiet and calm passage to the good
port to which it is bound, I hold it a just respect,
so as to fetch a fair wind I go not too far about.
But troth is, I shall have no occasion to meet
them in the way, except it be, as they will ncxis
confederate themselves with Aristotle, who, you
know, is intemperately magnified with the school-
men, and is also allied (as I take it) to the Jesuits
by Faber, who was a companion of Loyola, and
a great Aristotelian. I send you at this time, the
only part which hath any harshness, and yet I
framed to myself an opinion, that whosoever
allowed well of that preface, which you so much
commend, will not dislike, or at least ought not
to dislike, this other speech of preparation ; for it is
written out of the same spirit, and out of the same
necessity. Nay, it doth more fully lay open, that
the question between me and tho ancients is not
of the virtue of the race, but of ihe rightness of
the way. And, to speak truth, it is to the other
but as Palma to Pugnus, part of the same thing,
more large. You conceive aright, that in this,
and the other, you have commission to impart and
communicate them to others, according to your
discretion ; other matters I write not of. Myself
am like the miller of Huntingdon, that was wont
to pray for peace among the willows ; for, while
the winds blew the wind-mills wrouglit, and the
water-mill was less customed. So I see that
controversies of religion must hinder the advance-
ment of sciences. Let me conclude with my
perpetual wish towards yourself, that the appro-
bation of yourself by your own discreet and tem
perate carriage, may restore you to your country,
and your friends to your society. And so I com
mend you to God's goodness.
Gray's Inn, this 10th of October, 1609.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO MR. MATTHEW, TOUCH-
ING INSTAURATIO MAGNA.
Mr. Matthew, I heartily thank you for your
letter of the 10th of February, and I am glad to
receive from you matter both of encouragement
and advertisement, touching my writings. For
my part, I do wish that, since there is almost no
" lumen siccum" in the world, but all " madidum,
maceratum," infused in the affections, and bloods,
or humours, that these things of mine had those
separations that might make them more accepta-
ble; so that they claim not so much acquaintancu
of the present times, as they be thereby the less
like to last. And to show you that I have some
j purpose to new mould them, i send you a leaf ot
j two of the preface, carrying some figure of the
; whole work; wherein I purpose to take thatwhicd
! is real and effectual of both writings, and chiefly
LETFERS FROM THE CABALA.
to add pledge, if not payment to my promise. I
send you, also, a memorial of Queen Elizabeth,
to requite your Eulogy of the late Duke of Flo-
rence's felicity. Of this, when you were here, I
showed you some model, though, at that time,
methought you were as willing to hear Julius
Caesar as Queen Elizabeth commended. But this
which I send is more full, and hath more of the
narrative; and farther hath one part that I think
will not be disagreeable, either to you, or that
place, being the true tracts of her proceeding
towards the Catholics, which are infinitely mis-
taken. And though I do not imagine they will
pass allowance there, yet they will gain upon ex-
cuse. I find Mr. Lezure to use you well, (I mean
his tongue, of you,) which shows you either
honest or wise. But this I speak merely ; for, in
good faith, I conceive hope, that you will so
govern yourself, as we may take you as assuredly
for a good subject, and patriot, as you take your-
self for a good Christian; and so we may enjoy
your company, and you your conscience, if it may
no otherwise be. For my part, assure yourself
that, as we say in the law, " mutatis mutandis,"
my love and good wishes to you are diminished.
And so I remain.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE KING, TOUCHING
THE SOLICITOR'S PLACE.
How honestly ready I have been, most gracious
sovereign, to do your majesty humble service to
the best of my power, and in a manner beyond
rny power, (as I now stand,) I am not so unfor-
tunate but your majesty knoweth. P'or, both in
the commission of union, (the labour whereof, for
men of my profession, rested most upon my hand,)
and this last parliament in the bill of the subsidy,
(both body and preamble,) in the bill of attain-
ders of Tresham, and the rest, in the matter of
purveyance, in the ecclesiastical petitions, in the
grievances, and the like ; as I was ever careful
(and not without good success) sometimes to put
forward that which was good, sometimes to keep
back that which was not so good ; so your majesty
was pleased to accept kindly of my services, and
to say to me, such conflicts were the wars of peace,
and such victories, the victories of peace ; and,
therefore, such servants that obtained them were,
by kings that reiarn in peace, no less to be esteemed
than services of commanders in the wars. In all
which, nevertheless, I can challenge to myself no
sufficiency, but that I was diligent and reasonably
happy to execute those directions which 1 received
either immediately from your royal mouth, or from
my Lord of Salis.mry ; at which time it pleased
your majesty to promise and assure me, that upon
the reniove of the then attorney, I should not be
torgotten, but brought into ordinary place. And
this wa*4 after confirmed to me by many of my
lords, and towards the end of the last term, the
manner, also, in particular, was spoken of; that is,
that Mr. Solicitor should be made your majesty's
sergeant, and I solicitor, for so it was thought
best, to sort with both our gifts and faculties, for
the good of your service. And of this resolution
both court and country took knowledge. Neither
was this any invention or project of mine own,
but moved from my lords ; and I think, first, from
my lord chancellor. Whereupon resting, your
majesty well knoweth, I never opened my mouth
for the greater place, though I am sure 1 had two
circumstances, that Mr. Attorney now is, could
not allege. The one, nine years' service of the
crown ; the other, being cousin-german to the Lord
of Salisbury, whom your majesty seemeth and
trusteth so much. But for less place, I conceived,
it was meant me. But after that Mr. Attorney
Hubbert was placed, 1 heard no more of my pre-
ferment, but it seemed to be at a stop, to my great
disgrace and discouragement. For, (gracious
sovereign,) if still when the waters are stirred,
another shall be put before me, your majesty had
need work a miracle, or else I shall be stili a lame
man to do your majesty service. And, therefore,
my most humble suit to your majesty is, that this
which seemed to me was intended, may speedily
be performed. And I hope my former service
shall be hut beginnings to better, when I am better
strengthened. For sure I am, no man's heart is
fuller (I say not but many have greater hearts,
but I say, not fuller) of love and duty towards
your majesty, and your children, as I hope time
will manifest against envy and detraction, if any
be. To conclude, I most humbly crave pardon
for my boldness, and rest
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE KING, HIS SUIT TO
SUCCEED IN THE ATTORNEY'S PLACE.
It may please your Majesty,
Your great and princely favours towards me m
advancing me to place, and that which is to me
of no less comfort, your majesty's benign and
gracious acceptation from time to time of my poor
services, much above the merit and value of them,
hath almost brought me to an opinion, that I may
sooner perchance be wanting to myself in not
asking, than find your majesty's goodness want-
ing to me, in any my reasonable and modest
desires. And, therefore, perceiving how at this
time preferments of law fly about my ears, to some
above me, and to some below me, I did conceive
your majesty may think it rather a kind of dulness,
or want of faith, than modesty, if I should not
come with my pitcher to Jacob's Well, as otheis
do. W'herein I shall propound to youi majesty,
that which tendeth not so much to the raising my
fortune, as to the settling of my mind, being
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
33
sometimes assailed with this cogitation, that by i
renson of my slowness to sue and apprehend
sudden occasions, keeping on one plain course of i
painful service, I may (in finedierum) be in danger i
to be neglected and forgotten. And if that should ,
be, then were it much better for me now while I j
stand in your majesty's good opinion, (though
unworthy,) and have some reputation in the
world, to give over the course I am in, and to
make proof to do you some honour by my pen ;
either by writing some faithful narrative of your
happy (though not untraduced) times, or by re-
compiling your laws, which, I perceive, your
majesty l.iboureth with, and hath in your head,
(as Jupiter had Pallas,) or some other the like
work, (for without some endeavour to do you
honour I would not live,) than to spend my wits
and time in this laborious place, wherein now I j
serve, if it shall be deprived of those outward |
ornaments, and inward comforts, which it was
wont to have in respect of an assured succession
to some place of more dignity and rest, which
ieemeth now to be a hope altogether casual, if
not wholly intercepted. Wherefore, (not to hold
your majosly long,) my suit (than the which I
think I cannot well go lower) is, that I may
obtain your royal promise to succeed (if I live)
into the attorney's place, whensoever it shall be
void, it being but the natural, and immediate step
and rise, which the place I now hold hath ever
(in sort) made claim to, and almost never failed
of. In this suit I make no friends to your majesty,
but rely upon no other motive than your grace,
nor any other assurance but your word, whereof
I had good experience when I came to the solici-
tor's place, that they were like to the two great
lights, which in their motions are never retro-
grade. So, with my best prayer for your majesty's
happiness, I rest
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO SIR GEORGE CARY IN
FRANCE, UPON SENDING HIM HIS WRITING, " IN
felicem memoriam elizabethje."
My very good Lord,
Being asked the question by this bearer, an old
servant of my brother Anthony Bacon, whether I
would command him any service into France, and
beinff at better leisure than I would, in regard of
sickness, I began to remember, that neither your
business nor mine (though great and continual)
can be, upon an exact account, any just occa-
sion why 80 much good-will as hath passed
between us should be so much discontinued as it
hath been. And, therefore, because one must
begin, 1 thought to provoke your remembrance of
me, by my letter. And thinking how to fit it with
somewhat besides salutations, it came to my mind,
that this last summer, by occasion of a factious
Vol. IIL— 5
book that endeavoured to verify, " Misera faemina"
(the addition of the pope's bull) upon Queen
Elizabeth ; I did write a few lines in her memorial,
which I thought you would be well pleased to
read, both for the argument, and because you
were wont to bear affection to my pen. " Verum,
ut aliud ex alio," if it came handsomely to pass, I
would be glad the President De Thou (who hath
written a history, as you know, of that fame and
diligence) saw it ; chiefly because I know not,
whether it may not serve him for some use in his
story ; wherein I would be glad he did right to
the truth, and to the memory of that lady, as 1
perceive by that he hath already written, he is
well inclined to do ; I would be glad also, it were
some occasion (such as absence may permit) of
some acquaintance or mutual notice between us.
For though he hath many ways the precedence,
(chiefly in worth,) yet this is common to them
both, that we may serve our sovereigns in places
of law eminent, and not ourselves only, but that
our fathers did so before us ; and, lastly, that both
of us love learning, and liberal sciences, which was
ever a bond of friendship, in the greatest distances
of places. But of this I make no farther request,
than your own occasions and respects (to me un-
known) may further or limit, my principal pur-
pose being to salute you, and to send you this
token, whereunto I will add my very kind com-
mendations to my lady. And so commit you both
to God's holy protection.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE KING.
May it please your most excellent Majesty,
It is observed, upon a place in the Canticles by
some, " Ego sum Flos Campi, et Lilium Conval-
lium ;" that it is not said, " Ego sum flos horti,
et lilium montium :" because the majesty of that
person is not enclosed for a few, nor appropriate
to the great. And yet, notwithstanding, this royal
virtue of access, which nature and judgment hath
placed in your majesty's mind, as the portal of
all the rest, could not of itself (my imperfections
considered) have animated me to have made obla-
tion of myself immediately to your majesty, had
it not been joined to a habit of like liberty which
I enjoyed with my late dear sovereign mistress,
a princess happy in all things, but most happy in
such a successor. And yet, farther, and more
nearly, I was not a little encouraged, not only
upon a supposal, that unto your majesty's sacred
ears (open to the air of all virtues) there might
have come some small breath of the good memory
of my father, so long a principal counsellor in
your kingdom, but also, by the particular know-
ledge of the infinite devotion, and incessant en-
deavours, beyond the strength of his body, ano
the nature of the times, which appeared in aov
34
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
good bro'her towaros your majesty's service, and
were on your majesty's part, throu<rli your singular
benignities, by many most gracious and lively
significations and favours accepted and acknow-
ledged, beyond tlie thought of any thing he could
effect: all which endeavours and duties, for the
most part, were common to myself with him,
though my design between brethren dissembled.
And, therefore, most high and mighty king, my
most dear and dread sovereign lord, since now
the corner-stone is laid of the mightiest monarchy
in Europe, and that God above, who is noted to
have a mighty hand in bridling the floods and
fluctuations of the seas, and of people's hearts,
hath by the miraculous and universal consent,
(the more strange, because it proceedeth from
such diversity of causes,) in your coming in,
given a sign and token, what he intendeth in the
continuance ; I think there is no subject of your
majesty, who loveth this island, and is not hollow
and unworthy, whose heart is not on fire, not only
to bring you peace-offerings to make you propiti-
ous ; but to sacrifice himself as a burnt-offering
toyour majesty's service : amongst which number,
no man''s fire shall be more pure and fervent; but
how far forth it shall blaze out, that resteth in
your majesty's employment: for, since your for-
tune, in the greatness thereof, hath for a time
debarred your majesty of the fruitful virtue which
one calleth the principal, "Principis est virtus
maxima nosse suos," because your majesty hath
many of yours, which are unknown unto you, I
must leave all to the trial of farther time; and,
thirsting after the happiness of kissing your
royal hand, continue ever
Your, etc.
Fr. Bacon.
SIR FRANCIS BACON, TO THE LORD KINLOSS,
UPON THE ENTRANCE OF KING JAMES.
My Lord,
The present occasion awakeneth in me aremem-
brance of the constant amity and mutual good
offices which passed between my brother deceased
and your lordship, whereunto 1 was less strange,
than in respect of the time I had reason to pretend ;
and wuhal I call to mind the great opinion my
brother (who seldom failed in judgment of a per-
son) would often express me of your lordship's
great wisdom and soundness, both in head and
h».urt, towards the service and affairs of our sove-
reign lord the king. The one of those hath bred
in me an election, and the other a confidence, to
address my good will and sincere affection to
your good lordship, not doubting, in regard my
course of life hath wrought me not to be alto-
gether unseen in the matters of the kingdom, that
1 may be in some use, both in points of service to
'.he king, and your lordship's particular : And, on
the other side, I will not omit to desire humbly
your lordship's favour, in furthering a good con-
ceit and impression of my most humble duty, and
true zeal towards the king, to whose majesty
words cannot make me known, neither mine own
nor others, but time will, to no disadvantage of
any that shall forerun his majesty's experience,
by their humanity and commendations. And so
I commend your lordship to God's protection.
Your, etc.
Fr. Bacon.
From Gray's Inn, etc.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE EARL OF NORTHUM-
BERLAND, CONCERNING A PROCLAMATION UPON
THE KING'S ENTRY.
It MAY PLEASE YOUR LoRDSHIP,
I do hold it a thing formal and necessary, for
the king to forerun his coming, be it never so
speedy, with some gracious declaration for the
cherishing, entertaining, and preparing of men's
affections. For which purpose I have conceived
a draught, it being a thing to me familiar, in my
mistress her times, to have used my pen in politic
writings of satisfaction. The use of this may be
in two sorts: First, properly, if your lordship
think convenient to show the king any such
draught, because the veins and pulses of this
state cannot but be known here ; which if your
lordship should, then I would desire your lordship
to withdraw my name, and only signify that yoa
gave some heads of direction of such a matter to
one of whose style and pen you had some opinion.
The other collateral, that though your lordship
make no other use of it, yet it is a kind of portrai-
ture of that which I think worthy to be advised
by your lordship to the king, to express himself
according to those points which are therein con-
ceived, and perhaps more compendious and signi-
ficant than if I had set them down in articles. I
would have attended your lordship, but for some
little physic I took. To morrow morning I will
wait on you. So I ever continue, etc.
Fr. Bacon.
sir francis bacon to sir edward cokk
expostulatory.
Mr. Attorney,
I thought best, once for all, to let you know in
plainness, what I find of you, and what you shall
i find of me. You take to yourself a liberty to dis-
grace and disable my law, experience, and dis
cretion ; what it pleases you I pray think of me.
I am one that know both mine own wants and
other men's ; and it may be, perchance, that mine
may mend when others stand at a stay: And,
surely, I may not in public place endure to be
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
35
wron£^(l, without repelling the same to my best
aavaniage, to right myself. You are great, and
thefetbre have the more enviers, which would be
glad to have you paid at another's cost. Since
the time I missed the solicitor's place, the rather,
I think, by your means, I cannot expect that you
and I shall ever serve as attorney and solicitor
together, but either to serve with another upon
your remove, or to step into some other course.
So as I am more free than ever I was from any
occasion of unworthy confirming myself to you,
more than general good manners, or your particu-
lar good usage shall provoke ; and if you had not
been short-sighted in your own fortune, (as I
think,) you might have had more use of me; but
that tide is past. I write not this to show any
friends what a brave letter I have writ to Mr.
Attorney; I have none of those humours, but that
I have written is to a good end, that is, to the
more decent carriage of my master's service, and
to our particular better understanding one another.
This letter, if it shall be answered by you in deed,
and not in word, I suppose it will not be the worse
for us both ; else it is but a few lines lost, which
for a much smaller matter I would adventure. So,
this being to yourself, I for my part rest,
Yours, etc.
Fr. Bacon.
em FRANCIS BACON TO SIR VINCENT SKINNER,
EXPOSTULATORY.
Sir Vincent Skinner,
I see by your needless delays, this matter is
grown to a new question, wherein, for the matter
itself, it had been stayed at the beginning by my
lord treasurer, and Mr. Chancellor, I should
not so much have stood upon it; for the great
and daily travails which I take in his majesty's
service, either are rewarded in themselves, in
that they are but my duty, or else may deserve a
much greater matter. Neither can I think amiss
of any man, that in furtherance of the king's
benefit, moved the doubt, that I knew not what
warrant you had, but my wrong is, that you
having had my lord treasurer's, and Mr. Chan-
cellor's warrant for payment, above a month
since, you (I say) making your payments, be-
like, upon such differences as are better known
to yourself, than agreeable to due respect of his
majesty's service, have delayed all this time,
otherwise than I might have expected either from
our ancient acquaintance, or from that regard
that one in your place may owe to one in
mine. By occasion whereof there ensueth to me
a greater inconvenience, that now my name, in
sort, must be in question among you, as if I were
a man likely to demand that that were unreason-
able, or to be denied that that is reasonable; and
this must be, because you can pleasure men at
pleasure. But this I leave with this, that it is
the first matter wherein I had occasion to discern
of your friendship, which I see to fall to this,
that whereas Mr. Chancellor, the last time in my
man's hearing, very honourably said, that Ive
would not discontent any man in my place, it
seems you have no such caution. But my writing
to you now, is to know of you, where now the
stay is, without being any more beholden to you,
to whom indeed no man ought to be beholden in
those cases in a right course. And so I bid you
farewell.
Fr. Bacon.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
It MAY PLEASE YOUR LoRDSHIP,
As I conceived it to be a resolution, both with
his majesty, and among your lordships of his
council, that I should be placed solicitor, and the
solicitor to be removed to be the king's serjeant;
so I most humbly thank your lordship's farther-
ness and forwardness therein, your lordship be-
ing the man that first devised the mean ; where-
fore my humble request unto your lordship is,
that you would set in with some strength to
finish this your work ; which (I assure yourself)
I desire the rather, because, being placed, I hope,
for your many favours, to be able to do you some
better service: for as I am, your lordship cannot
use me, nor scarcely indeed know me ; not that I
vainly think I shall be able to do any great mat-
ter, but certainly it will frame me to use a more
industrious observance and application to such as
I honour so much as I do your lordship, and not,
I hope, without some good offices, which may
deserve your thanks. And herewithal, good my
lord, I humbly pray your lordship to consider,
that time groweth precious with me, and that a
married man is years seven older in his thoughts
the first day ; and therefore what a discomforta-
ble thing it is for me to be unsettled still. For,
surely, were it not that I think myself born for
to do my sovereign service, and therefore in that
station I will live and die; otherwise, for mine
own private comfort, it were better for me that
the king should blot me out of his book, or that
I should turn my course to endeavour to serve
him in some other kind, than for me to stand
thus at a stop, and to have that little reputation
which by my industry I gather, to be scattered
and taken away by continual disgraces, every
new man coming in before me ; and sure I am, 1
shall never have fairer promises and hope from
all your lordships, and I would believe you in a
far greater matter : and if it were nothing else, I
hope the modesty of my suit deserveth some-
what; for I know well the solicitor's place is not
as your lordship left it, time working alteration,
somewhat in the profession, much more in that
36
LETTERS FROM THE CABALA.
special place. And wore it not to satisfy my
wife's friends, and to get myself out of being a
common gaze, and a speech, (I protest before
God,) I would never speak word for it. But to
conclude, as my honourable lady was some mean
to make me to change the name of another ; so,
if it please you to help me, as you said, to change
mine own name, I cannot be but more and more
bounden to you ; and I am much deceived, if
your lordship find not the king well inclined : as
for my Lord of Salisbury, he is forward and affec-
tionate.
Yours, etc.
Fr. Bacon.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE KING.*
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
How honestly ready I have been, most gracious
sovereign, to do your majesty humble service to
the best of my power, and in a manner beyond
my power, as I now stand, I am not so unfortunate
but your majesty knows ; both in the commission
of union, the labour whereof, for men of my pro-
fession, rested most upon my hands ; and this last
parliament, for the bill of subsidy, both body and
preamble : in the bill of attainders of Tresham,
and the rest ; in the matter of purveyance, in the
ecclesiastical petitions, in the grievances, and the
like ; as I was ever careful, not without good suc-
cess, sometimes to put forward that which was
good, sometimes to keep back that which was
worse ; so your majesty was pleased kindly to
accept of my services, and to say to me, such con-
flicts were the wars of peace, and such victories
the victories of peace ; and therefore such servants
as obtained them were, by kings that reign in
peace, no less to be esteemed than conquerors in
the wars. In all which, nevertheless, I can
challenge to myself no suiBciency, that I was
• This !9 merely a copy of a letter, which will be found in
page 32, but there are some variations, which have induced
me to insert boih of them : In the latter letter he refers to his
fbther.
diligent, and reasonably happy to execute those
directions which I have received, either immediate-
ly from your royal mouth, or from my Lord of
Salisbury. At that time it pleased your majesty
also to assure me, that upon the remove of the
then attorney, I should not be forgotten, but b«
brought into ordinary place; and this was con-
firmed unto me by many of my lords. And towards
the end of the last term, the manner also in particu-
lar spoken of, that is, that Mr. Solicitor should be
made your majesty's serjeant, and I solicitor; for
so it was thought best to sort with both our gifts
and faculties for the good of our service, and of
this resolution both court and country took notice.
Neither was this any invention or project of mine
own, but moved from my lords, I think first from
my lord chancellor; whereupon resting, your
majesty well knoweth, I never opened my mouth
for the greater place, although, I am sure, I had
two circumstances that Mr. Attorney that now is
could not allege ; the one nine years' service of the
crown ; the other, the being cousin-german to my
Lord of Salisbury ; for of my father's service I will
not speak. But for the less place, I conceive, it
was never meant me : but after that Mr. Attorney
Hubbard was placed, I heard no more of any pre-
ferment, but it seemed to be at a stop, to my
great disgrace and discontentment. For, gracious
sovereign, if still, when the waters be stirred, an-
other shall be put in before me, your majesty hath
need work a miracle, or else I shall be a lame man
to do your services. And therefore my most
humble suit unto your majesty is, that this, which
seemed to me intended, may speedily be perform-
ed ; and I hope my former services shall be but
as beginnings to better, when I am better strength-
ened : for sure I am no man's heart is fuller, I say
not, but many may have greater hearts, but I say
not fuller of love and duty towards your majesty
and your children, as I hope time will manifest
against envy and detraction, if any be. To con-
clude, I humbly crave pardon for my boldness,
etc. Yours, etc.
Fb. Bacon.
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
* i.etter to queen elizabeth, upon sending
of a new year's gift.
It may please your Majesty,
According to the ceremony of the time, I would
not forget, in all humbleness, to present your
majesty with a small New Year's gift: nothing
to my mind. And therefore to supply it, I can
but pray to God to give your majesty his New
Vear's Gift; that is, a new year that shall be as
no year to your body, and as a year with two
harvests to your coffers; and every other way
prosperous and gladsome. And so I remain.
A LETTER TO QUEEN ELIZABETH, UPON THE
SENDING OF A NEW YEAR'S GIFT.
Most excellent sovereign Mistress :
The only New Year's Gift which I can give
your majesty, is that which God hath given to me :
which is, a mind, in all humbleness, to wait upon
your commandments and business: wherein I
would to God that I were hooded, that I saw less ;
or that I could perform more : for now I am like a
hawk, that bates, when I see occasion of service,
but cannot fly, because I am tied to another's fist.
But, meanwhile, I continue my presumption of
making to your majesty my poor oblation of a
garment, as unworthy the wearing as his service
that sends it: but the approach to your excellent
person may give worth to both : which is all the
happiness I aspire unto.
AN ANSWER OF MY LORD OF ESSEX, TO A
LETTER OF MR. BACON'S. (See p. 8.)
Mr. Bacon,
I can neither expound, nor censure your late
actions ; being ignorant of all of them, save one ;
and having directed my sight inward only, to
examine myself. You do pray me to believe,
that you only aspire to the conscience and com-
mendation, of " Bonus Civis,'' and " Bonus Vir ;"
and I do faithfully assure you, that while that is
your ambition, (though your course be active and
mind contemplative,) yet we shall, both, " Conve-
nire in eodem Tertio ;" and " Convenire inter nos
ipsos." Your profession of affection, and offoi
of good offices, are welcome to me : For answer
to them, I will say but this ; that you have be-
lieved I have been kind to you ; and you may be-
lieve that I cannot be other, either upon humour
or mine own election. I am a stranger to all
poetical conceits, or else I should say somewhat
of your poetical example. But this 1 must say ;
that I never flew with other wings tnan desire to
merit ; and confidence in my sovereign's favour ;
and when one of these wings failed me, I would
light no where but at my sovereign's feet, though
she suffered me to be bruised, with .ny fall. And
till her majesty, that knows I was never bird of
prey, finds it to agree with her will and her service,
that my wings should be imped again, I have com-
mitted myself to the mue. No power, but my
God's, and my sovereign's can alter this resolu-
tion of Your retired friend, Essex.
A LETTER COMMENDING HIS LOVE AND OCCA-
SIONS TO SIR THOMAS CHALLONER, THEN IN
SCOTLAND, UPON HIS MAJESTY'S ENTRANCE.
Sir,
For our money matters, I arn assured you re-
ceived no insatisfaction : for you know my mind ;
and you know my means ; vv'hich now the open-
ness of the time, caused by this blessed consent
and peace, will increase ; and so our agreement
according to your time be observed. For the pre-
sent, according to the Roman adage, (that one
cluster of grapes ripeneth best beside another;) I
know you hold me not unworthy, whose mutual
friendship yon should cherish : and I, for my
part, conceive good hope that you are likely to
become an acceptable servant to the king our
master. Not so much for any way made hereto-
fore, (which in my judgment will make no great
difference,) as for the stuff and sufficiency, which
I know to be in you; and whereof I know his
majesty may reap great service. And, therefore,
my general request is, that according to that
industrious vivacity, which you use towards your
friends, you will further his majesty's good con-
ceit and inclination towards me ; to whom words
cannot make me known ; neither mine own nor
others; but time will, to no disadvantage of any
that shall forerun his majesty's experience, by
D 37
38
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
your testimony and commendation. And though 1
occasion give you the precedence of doing me this
special good office ; yet, I hope no long time will
intercede, before I shall have some means to
requite your favour and acquit your report. More
particularly, having thought good to make obla-
tion of my most humble service to his majesty by
a few lines, I do desire your loving care and help
by yourself, or such means as I refer to your dis-
cretion, to deliver and . present the same to his
majesty's hands. Of which letter I send you a
copy, that you may know what you carry ; and
may take of Mr. Matthew the letter itself; if you
pleased to undertake the delivery. Lastly, I do
commend to yourself, and such your courtesies as
occasion may require, this gentleman, Mr. Mat-
thew, eldest son to my Lord Bishop of Durham,
and my very good friend ; assuring you that any
courtesy, you shall use towards him, you shall
use to a very worthy young gentleman, and one,
I know, whose acquaintance you will much
esteem. And so, I ever continue.
A LETTER TO MR. DAVIS, THEN GONE TO THE
KING, AT HIS FIRST ENTRANCE.
Master Davis,
Though you went on the sudden, yet you could
not go before you had spoken with yourself to the
purpose, which I will now write. And, therefore,
I know it shall be altogether needless, save that I
meant to show you that I was not asleep. Briefly,
I commend myself to your love and the well using
my name ; as well in repressing and answering
for me, if there be any biting or nibbling at it in
that place; as by imprinting a good conceit and
opinion of me, chiefly in the king, (of whose
favour I make myself comfortable assurance ;) as
otherwise in that court. And, not only so, but
generally to perform to me aM the good oflices,
which the vivacity of your wit can suggest to
your mind, to be performed to one, with whose
atfection you have so great sympathy ; and in
whose fortune you have so great interest. So,
desiring you to be good to concealed poets, I
continue.
hope to have some means not to be barren in
friendship towards you. We all thirst after the
king's coming, ace wilting all this but as the
dawning of the day, before the rising of the sun,
till we have his presence. And though now his
mirjesty must be Janus Bifrons, to have a face to
Scotland as well as to England, yet, " Quod nunc
instat agendum :" The expectation is here, that he
will come in state and not in strength. So, for
this time I commend you to God's goodness.
A LETTER TO MR. FAULES, 28 MARTII, 1603.
Mr. Faules,
I did write unto you yesterday, by Mr. Lake,
(who was despatched hence from their lordships,)
a letter of revivor, of those sparks of former
acquaintance between us in my brother's time :
and now upon the same confidence, finding so fit
a messenger, I would not fail to salute you ;
hoping it will fall out so happily, as that you
Khali be one of the king's servants, which his
o\ajosty will first employ here with us : where I
A LETTER TO THE EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, UPON
THE KING'S COMING IN.
It may please your Lordship,
I would have been very glad, to have presented
my humble service to your lordship by my attend-
ance, if I could have foreseen that it should not
have been unpleasing unto you. And, therefore,
because I would commit no error, I chose to
write ; assuring y sur lordship, how credible soever
it may seem to you at first, yet, it is as true as a
thing that God knoweth ; that this great change
hath wrought in me no other change towards
your lordship than this ; that I may safely be now
that which I was truly before. And so, craving
no other pardon, than for troubling you with my
letter, I do not now begin to be, but continue to be,
Your lordship's humble and much devoted.
A LETTER TO THE EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND,
AFTER HE HAD BEEN WITH THE KING.
It may please your good Lordship,
I would not have lost this journey, and yet I
have not that I went for. For I have had no pri-
vate conference to purpose with the king. No
more hath almost any other English : for the
speech, his majesty admitteth with some noble-
men, is rather matter of grace than matter of busi-
ness ; with the attorney he spake, urged by the
Treasurer of Scotland, but no more than needs
must. After I had received his majesty's first
welcome, and was promised private access : yet,
not knowing what matter of service your lord-
ship's letter carried, (for I saw it not,) and well
knowing that primeness in advertisement is much,
I chose rather to deliver it to Sir Thomas Hes-
kins than to cool it in mine own hands upon
expectation of access. Your lordship shall find
a prince the furthest from vainglory that may
be; and rather, like a prince of the ancient form
than of the latter time: his speech is swift and
cursory, and in the full dialect of his country, and
in speech of business short, in speech of discourse
large : he affecteth popularity, by gracing such as
he hath heard to be popular, and not by any
fashions of his own. He is thoutrht somewhat
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
39
C^eneral in his favours; and his virtue of access
»s rather because he is much abroad and in press
nan that he giveth easy audience. He hasteneth
to a mixture of both kingdoms and occasions,
faster perhaps than policy will well bear. I told
your lordship once before, that (methought) his
majesty rather asked counsel of the time past than
of the time to come. But it is yet early to ground
any settled opinion. For the particulars I refer
to conference, having in these generals gone
further, in so tender an argument, than I would
have done, were not the bearer hereof so assured.
So, I continue, etc.
A LETTER TO MR. PIERCE, SECRETARY TO THE
DEPUTE OF IRELAND.
Mastrr Pierce,
I am glad to hear of you as I do; and for my
part, you shall find me ready to take any occasion
to further your credit and preferment: and I dare
assure you (though I am no undertaker) to pre-
pare your way with my Lord of Salisbury, for
any good fortune which may befall you. You
teach me to complain of business, whereby I
write the more briefly; and yet I am so unjust,
as that which I allege for mine own excuse, I
cannot admit for yours. For I must by ex-
pecting, exact your letters with this fruit of your
sufficiency, as to understand how things pass in
that kingdom. And, therefore, having begun, I
pray you continue. This is not m.erely curiosity,
for I have ever (I know not by what instinct)
wished well to that impolished part of this crown.
And, so with my very loving commendations, I
remain.
h. LETTER TO THE EARL OF SALISBURY OF COUR-
TESY UPON A NEW YEAR'S TIDE.
[t may PLEASE YOUR GOOD LoRDSHIP,
Having no gift to present you with, in any
degree proportionable to my mind, I desire never-
theless to take the advantage of a ceremony to
express myself to your lordship ; it being the
first time I could make the like acknowledgment
when I stood out of the person of a suitor;
wherefore I must humbly pray your lordship to
think of me, that now it hath pleased you, by
many effectual and great benefits, to add the
assurance and comfort of your love and favour to
that precedent disposition which was in me to
admire your virtue and merit; I do esteem what-
soever I have or may have in this world but as
trash in comparison of having the honour and
happiness to be a near and well accepted kins-
man to so rare and worthy a counsellor, governor,
and patriot. For having been a studious, if not
a curious obser-or of antiquities of virtue, as of
late pieces, I forbear to say to your lordship what
I find and conceive; but to any other I would
think to make myself believed. But not to be
tedious in that which may have the show of a
compliment, I can but wish your lordship many
ha})py years ; many more than your father had ;
even so many more as we may need you more
So I remain.
A LETTER OF THANKS TO THE KING, UPON MR
ATTORNEY'S SICKNESS.
It MAY PLEASE YOUR MOST EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
I do understand, by some of my good friends,
to my great comfort, that your majesty hath in
mind your majesty's royal promise (which to iHe
is " anchora spei") touching the attorney's place.
I hope Mr. Attorney shall do well. I thank God
I wish no man's death, nor much mine own life,
more than to do your majesty service. For I
account my life the accident, and my duty the
substance. But this I will be bold to say : if it
please God that ever I serve your majesty in the
attorney's place, I have known an Attorney
Cooke, and an Attorney Hobert; both worthy
men, and far above myself; but if I fehould not
find a middle way between their two dispositions
and carriages, I should not satisfy mjself. But
these things are far or near, as it shall please
God. Meanwhile, I most humbly pray your
majesty to accept my sacrifice of thanksgiving
for your gracious favour. God preserve your
majesty. I ever remain.
A LETTER TO MY LORD MAYOR, UPON A PRO-
CEEDING IN A PRIVATE CAUSE.
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
I did little expect when I left your lordship
last, that there would have been a proceeding
against Mr. Barnard to his overthrow. Wherein
I must confess myself to be in a sort accessary :
because he relying upon me for counsel, I advised
that course which he followed. Wherein now I
begin to question myself, whether, in preserving
my respects to your lordship and the rest, I have
not failed in the duty of my profession towards
my client; for certainly, if the words had been
heinous and spoken in a malicious fashion, and
in some public place and well proved, and not a
prattle in a tavern, caught hold of by one, who
(as I hear) is a detected sycophant, (Stand ish I
mean,) j'et I know not what could have been
done more than to impose upon him a grievous
fine ; and to require the levying of the same; and
to take away his means of life by "his disfran-
chisement ; and to commit him to a defamed
prison during Christmas; in honour whereof iho
prisoners in other courts do commonly jf grace
40
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
obtain some enlargement. This rigour of.proceed-
ing ''to tell your lordship and the rest, as my
good friends, my opinion plainly) tendeth not to
strengthen authority, which is best supported by
love and fear intermixed ; but rather to make
people discontented and servile; especially, when
such punishment is inflicted for words, not by
rule of law, but by a jurisdiction of discretion,
which would evermore be moderately used. And
I pray God, whereas, Mr. Recorder, when I was
with you, did well and wisely put you in mind
of the admonitions you often received from my
lords that you should bridle unruly tongues ; that
those kind of speeches and rumours whereunto
those admonitions do refer, which are concerning
the state and honour thereof, do not pass too
licentiously in the city unpunished; while these
words which concern your particular are so
straightly inquired into, and punished with such
extremity. But these things, your own wisdom
(first or last) will best represent unto you. My
writing unto you at this time is, to the end, that
howsoever I do take it somewhat unkindly, that
my mediation prevailed no more; yet I might
preserve that further respect that 1 am willing to
use unto such a state, in delivering my opinion
unto you freely, before I would be of counsel, or
move any thing that should cross your proceed-
ings ; wivich, notwithstanding, (in case my client
can receive no relief at your hands,) I must and
will do. Continuing, nevertheless, in other
things, my wonted good affection to yourselves,
and your occasions.
A LETTER TO MY LORD TREASURER SALISBURY,
UPON A NEW YEAR'S TIDE.
It may please your good Lordship,
I would entreat the new year to answer for the
old, in my humble thanks to your lordship ; both
for many your favours, and chiefly that, upon the
occasion of Mr. Attorney's infirmity, I found your
lordship even as I could wish. This doth increase
a desire in me to express my thankful mind to
your lordship ; hoping that though I find age, and
decays grow upon me, yet I may have a flash or
two of spirit left to do you service. And I do
protest before God, without comnliment or any
light vanity of mind, that if I knew in what
course of life to do you best service, I w^ould take
it, and make my thoughts, which now fly to many
pieces, to be reduced to that centre. But all this,
is no more than I am, which is not much; but yet
ihe entire of mm, that is, etc.
A LETTER TO HIS MAJESTY, CONCERNING
PEACHAM'S cause, JANUARY, 21, 1014.
h MAY PLEASE YOUR EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
It grieveth me exceedingly, that your majesty
should be so much troubled with this matter of
Peacham's, whose raging devil seeineth to be
turned into a dumb devil. But although we are
driven to make our way through questions, (wliich
I wish were otherwise,) yet I hope well the end
will be good. But then every man must pat to
his helping hand; for else I must say to your
majesty, in this and the like cases, as St. Paul
said to the centurion, when some of the mariners
had an eye to the cock-boat, " except these stay
in the ship, ye cannot be safe." I find in my
lords great and worthy care of the business.
And, for my part, I hold my opinion and am
strengthened in it, by some records that I have
found. God preserve your majesty.
Your majesty's most humble, and devoted
subject and servant.
A LETTER TO THE KING, TOUCHING PEACHAM'S
cause, JANUARY 27, 1014.
It may PLEASE YOUR EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
This day, in the afternoon, was read, your
majesty's letters of direction touching Peacham ;
which, because it concerneth properly the duty
of my place, I thought it fit for me to give your
majesty both a speedy and private account
thereof; that your majesty, knowing things
clearly how they pass, may have the true fruit of
your own wisdom and clear-seeing judgment in
governing the business.
First, for the regularity which your majesty (as
a master in business of estate) doth prudently pre-
scribe in examining, and taking examinations, I
subscribe to it ; only I will say for myself, that I
was not at this time the principal examiner.
For the course your majesty directeth and
commandeth, for the feeling of the judges of the
King's Bench, their several opinions by distri-
buting ourselves and enjoining secrecy, we did
first find an encounter in the opinion of my Lord
Coke ; who seemed to affirm, that such particu-
lar and (as he called it) auricular taking of opi-
nions, was not according to the custom of this
realm ; and seemed to divine that his brethren
would never do it. But when I replied, that it
was our duty to pursue your majesty's directions ;
and it were not amiss for his lordship to leave his
brethren to their own answers, it was so con-
cluded ; and his lordship did desire, that I might
confer with himself; and Mr. Serjeant Montague
was named to speak with Justice Crooke; Mr.
Serjeant Crew with Justice Houghton ; and Mr.
Solicitor with Justice Dodderidge. This done, I
took my fellows aside, and advised that they
should presently speak with the three judges,
before I could speak with my Lord Coke for
doubt of infusion ; and that they should not in
any case make any doubt to the judges, as if they
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
41
misfnistpd, they wo\ild not deliver any opinion
apart, but speak resolutely to them, and only
make their coming to be, to know what time they
would appoint to be attended with the papers.
This sorted not amiss ; for Mr. Solieilor came to
me this evening and related to me, that he had
found Judge Dodderidge very ready to give opinion
in secret; and fell upon the same reason, which
upon your majesty's first letter I had used to my
Lord Coke at the council table ; which was, that
every judge was bound expressly by his oath to
give your majesty counsel when he was called ;
and whether he should do it jointly or severally,
that rested in your majesty's good pleasure, as
you would require it. And though the ordinary
course was to assemble them, yet there might
intervene cases, wherein the other course was
more convenient. The like answer made .Jus-
tice Crook. .Tustice Houghton, who is a soft
man, seemed desirous first to confer ; alleging,
that the other three judges had all served the
crown before they were judges, but that he had
not been much acquainted with business of this
nature.
We purpose, therefore, forthwith, they shall be
made acquainted with the papers; and that if that
could be done, as suddenly as this was, I should
make small doubt of their opinions ; and how-
soever, I hope, force of law and precedent, will
bind them to the truth : neither am I wholly out
of hope, that my Lord Coke himself, when I
have in some dark manner put him in doubt that
he shall be left alone, will not continue singular.
For Owen ; I know not the reason, why there
should have been no mention made thereof in the
last advertisement: for I must say for myself,
that I have lost no moment of time in it, as my
Lord of Canterbury can bear me witness. For
having received from my lord an additional of
great importance ; which was, that Owen of his
own accord, after examination, should compare the
case of your majesty (if you were excommunicated)
to the case of a prisoner condemned at the bar;
which additiona;! was subscribed by one witness ;
but yet I perceived it was spoken aloud, and in
the hearing of others, I presently sent down a copy
thereof, which is now come up, attested with the
hands of three more, lest there should have been
any scruple of " singularis testis ;" so as, for this
case, I may say " omnia parata;" and we expect
but a direction from your majesty, for the ac-
quainting the judges seyerally ; or the four judges
of the King's Bench, as your majesty shall think
good.
I forget not, nor forslow not your majesty's
commandment touching recusants ; of which,
when it is ripe, I will give your majesty a true
account, and what 's possible to be done, and
where the impediment is. Mr. Secretary bringeth
•'bonum voluntatem," but he is not versed much
in these things ; and sometimes urgeththe conclu-
VoL. IIL— G
sion without the premises, and by haste hindereth.
It is my lord treasurer and the exchequer must help
it, if it be holpen. I have heard more ways than
one, of an offer of 20,000/. per annum, for farm-
ing the penalties of recusants, not including any
offence, capital or of premunire; wherein 1 will
presume to say, that my poor endeavours, since I
was by your great and sole grace your attorney,
have been no small spurs to make them feel your
laws, and seek this redemption ; wherein I must
also say, my Lord Coke hath done his part: and
I do assure your majf'Sty I know it, somewhat
inwardly and groundedly, that by the courses we
have taken, they conform daily and in great num-
bers ; and I would to God, it were as well a con-
version as a conformity ; but if it should die by
dispensation or dissimulation, then I fear, that
whereas your majesty hath now so many ill sub-
jects poor and detected, you shall then have them
rich and dissembled. And, therefore, 1 hold this
offer very considerable, of so great an increase of
revenue ; if it can pass the fiery trial of religion
and honour, which I wish all projects may pass.
Thus, inasmuch as I have made to your majesty
somewhat a naked and particular account of busi-
ness, I hope your majesty will use it accordingly.
God preserve your majesty.
Your majesty's most humble and
devoted subject and servant.
A LETTER REPORTING THE STATE OF MY LORD
CHANCELLOR'S HEALTH. JAN. 29, 1614.
It MAY PLEASE YOUR EXCELLENT MAJESTY,
Because 1 know your majesty would be glad to
hear how it is with my lord chancellor; and that
it pleased him out of his ancient and great love to
me, which many times in sickness appeareth most,
to admit me to a great deal of speech with him
this afternoon, which, during these three days, he
hath scarcely done to any ; I thought it might be
pleasing to your majesty to certify you how I
found him. I found him in bed, but his spirits
fresh and good, speaking stoutly, and without
being spent or weary, and both willing and begin-
ning of himself to speak, but wholly of your
majesty's business. Wherein I cannot forget to
relate this particular, that he wished that his sen-
tencing of the L S. at the day appointed, might
be his last work, to conclude his services, and
express his affection towards your majesty. 1
told him I knew your majesty would be very de-
sirous of his presence that day, so it might be
without prejudice, but otherwise your majesty
esteemed a servant more than a service, especially
such a servant. Not to trouble your majesty,
though good spirits in sickness be uncertain calen-
dars, yet I have very good comfort of him, and I
hope by that day, etc.
d3
42
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
A LETTER TO THE KING, GIVING HIM AN AC-
COUNT OF PEACMAM'S BUSINESS, AND SOME
others, jan. 31, 1614.
Jt may please your excellent Majesty,
1 received this morning, by Mr. Murray, a mes-
eage from you' majesty of some warrant and con-
fidence, that I should advertise your majesty of
your business, wherein I had part. Wherein, I
am first humbly to thank your majesty for your
good acceptation of my endeavours and service ;
which I am not able to furnish with any other
quality save faith and diligence.
For Peacham's ease, I have, since my last let-
ter, been with my Lord Coke twice ; once before
Mr. Secretary's going down to your majesty, and
once since, which was yesterday ; at the former
of which times I delivered him Peacham's papers,
and at this latter, the precedents which I had with
care gathered and selected ; for these degrees and
order the business rec^ired.
At the former 1 told him that he knew my
errand, which stood upon two points; the one, to
inform him the particular case of Peacham's trea-
sons, ( for I never give it other word to him,) the
other to receive his opinion to myself, and in
secret, according to my commission from your
majesty.
At the former time, he fell upon the same alle-
g;ition which he had begun at the council table;
that judges were not to give opinion by fractions,
but entirely, according to the vote whereupon they
should settle upon conference; and that this auri-
ciilar taking of opinions, single and apart, was
new and dangerous; and Qther words more vehe-
ment than I repeat.
I replied in civil and plain terms, that I wished
his 'ordship, in my love to him, to think better of
it ; for that this, that his lordship was pleased to
put into great words, seemed to me and my fel-
lows, when we spake of it amongst ourselves, a
reasonable and familiar matter, for a king to con-
sult with his juilges, either assembled or selected,
or one by one; and then to give him a little out-
let, to save his first opinion, (wherewith he is
most commonly in love,) I added that judges
sometimes might make a suit to be spared for their
opinion till they had spoken with their brethren;
but if the king, upon his own princely judgment,
for reason of estate, should think fit to have it
otherwise, and should so demand it, there was ko
declining; nay, that it touched upon a violation
of their oath, which was, to counsel the king
without distinction, whether it were jointly or
spveially. Thereupon, I put him the case of the
privy council, as if your majesty should be pleased
to command any of them to deliver their opinion
apart and in private; whether it were a good
answer to deny it, otherwise than if it were pro-
pounded at the table. To this he said, that the
cases were not alike, because this concerned life.
To which 1 replied, that questions of estate might
concern thousands of lives ; and many things
more precious than the life of a partic^ilar ; as
war and peace, and the like. *•
To conclude, his lordship, " tanquam exiturn
quajrens," desired me for the time to leave with
him the papers, vvithc-ut pressing him to consent
to deliver a private opinion till he had perused
them. I said I would; and the more willingly,
because I thought his lordship, upon due considera-
tion of the papers, would find the case to be so
clear a case of treason, as he would make no diffi-
culty to deliver his opinion in private; and so I
was persuaded of the rest of the judges of the
King's Bench ; who, likewise, as I partly under-
stood, made no scruple to deliver their opinion in
private. "Whereupon, he said, (which I noted
well,) that his brethren were wise men, and that
they might make a show as if they would give
an opinion as was required, but the end would be,
that it would come to this, they would say they
doubted of it, and so pray advice with the rest.
But to this I answered, that I was sorry to hear
him say so much, lest, if it came so to pass, some
that loved him not might make a construction that
that which he had foretold he had wrought. Thus
your majesty sees that, as Solomon saith, " gressus
nolentis tanquam in sepi spinarum," it catcheth
upon every thing.
The latter meeting is yet of more importance;
for, then, coming armed with divers precedents, 1
thought to set in with the best strength I could,
and said, that before I descended to the record, I
would break the case to him thus : that it was true
we were to proceed upon the ancient statute of
King Edward the Third, because other temporary
statutes were gone, and therefore it must be said
in the indictment, " imaginatus est, et comjiassa-
vit,mortemetfinalemdestructionemdomini regis."
Then must the particular treasons follow in this
manner, viz. : " Etquod, ad perimplendum nefan-
dum propositum suum, composuit, et conscripsit,
quendam detestabilem, et venenosum libeljum,
sive scriptum, in quo inter alia proditoria continc-
tur," etc. And then the principal passages of
treason, taken forth of the papers, are to be en-
tered "in hsec verba;" and with a conclusion in
the end, " ad intenlionem, quod ligeus populus,
et veri subditi domini regis, cordialem suum amo-
rem, a domino rege retraherentet ipsum dominum
regem relinquerent, etguerram, et insurrectionem,
contra eum, levarent, et facerent," etc. I have in
this former followed the ancient style of the in-
dictments for brevity's sake, though, when we
come to the business itself, we shall enlarge it
according to the use of the later times. Thi» I
represented to him, (being a thing he is well ac-
quainted with,) that he might perceive the platform
of that was intended, without any mistaking or
obscurity. But then I fell to the matter itself, t^
lock hiiu in as much as I could, viz..'
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
43
That there be four means or manners, where-
by the death of the king is compassed and ima-
gined.
The first, by some particular fact or plot.
The second, by disabling his title ; as by af-
firming that he is not lawful king; or that another
ought to be king ; or that he is a usurper, or a
bastard, or the like.
The third, by subjecting his title to the pope;
and thereby making him of an absolute king a
conditional king.
The fourth, by disabling his regiment, and
making him appear to be incapable, or indign to
reign.
These things I relate to your majesty, in sum,
as is fit; which when I opened to my lord I did
insist a little more upon, Avith more efficacy and
edge, and authority of law and record than I can
now express.
Then I placed Peacham's treason within the
last division, agreeable to divers precedents,
whereof I had the records ready ; and concluded,
that your majesty's safety, and life, and authori-
ty, was thus by law ensconsed and quartered ;
and that it was in vain to fortify on three of the
sides, and so leave you open on the fourth.
It is true he heard me in a grave fashion, more
than accustomed, and took a pen and took notes
of" my divisions; and when he read the prece-
dents and records, would say, this you mean
falleth within your first or your second division.
In the end, I expressly demanded his opinion, as
that whereto both he and I was enjoined. But
he desired me to leave the precedents with him,
that he might advise upon them. I told him, the
rest of my fellows would despatch their part, and
I should be behind with mine; which, I per-
suaded myself, your majesty would impute rather
to his backwardness than my negligence. He
said, as soon as I should understand that the rest
were ready, he would not be long after with his
opinion.
For I. S., your majesty knoweth the day draw-
eth on ; and my lord chancellor's recovery, the
season and his age promising not to be too hasty.
I spake with him on Sunday, at what time I
found h n in bed, but his spirits strong, and not
spent or wearied ; and spake wholly of your busi-
ness leading me from one matter to another.
And wished, and seemed to hope, that he might
attend the day for I. S., and it were (as he said)
to be his last work, to conclude his services and
express his affection towards your majesty. I
presumed to say to him, that I knew your majesty
would be exceeding desirous of his being present
that day, so as that it might be without prejudice
to his continuance ; but that otherwise your ma-
jesty esteemed a servant more than a service ;
«specially such a servant. Surely, in mine opi-
nion, your majesty were better put off the day than
want his presence, considering the cause of the
putting off is so notorious ; and then the capital
and the criminal may come together the next
term.
I have not been unprofitable in helping to dis-
cover and examine within these few days a lat«
patent, by surreption obtained from your majesty,
of the greatest forest in England, worth 30,000/.,
under colour of a defective title, for a matter of
400/. The person must be named, because the
patent must be questioned. It is a great person,
my Lord of Shrewsbury; or rather (as I tliink_)
a greater than he, which is my Lady of Shrews-
bury. But I humbly pray your majesty, to know
this first from my lord treasurer; who, me-
thinks, groweth even studious in your business.
God preserve your majesty. Your majesty's
most humble and devoted subject and servant.
The rather in regard of Mr. Murray's absence,
I humbly pray your majesty to have a little
regard to this letter.
A LETTER TO THE KING TOUCHING MY LORD
CHANCELLOR'S AMENDMENT, AND THE PUT-
TING OFF I. S. HIS CAUSE. FEBRUARY 7, 1614.
It MAY PLEASE YOUP. EXCELLENT MaJESTY :
My lord chancellor sent for me, to speak
with me, this morning, about eight of the clock.
I perceive he hath now that signum sanitatis, as
to feel better his former weakness. For it is true,
I did a little mistrust that it was but a boutade of
desire and good spirit, when he promised himself
strength for Friday, though I was won and car-
ried with it. But now I find him well inclined,
to use (should I say) your liberty, or rather your
interdict, signified by Mr. Secretary from your
majesty. His lordship showed me also your
own letter, whereof he had told me before, but
had not showed it me. What shall I say? I do
much admire your goodness for writing such a
letter at such a time.
He had sent also to my lord treasurer, to de-
sire him to come to him about that time. His
lordship came; and, not to trouble your majesty
with circumstances, both their lordships con-
cluded, myself present, and concurring, that it
could be no prejudice to your majesty's service
to put off the day for I. S, till the next term.
The rather because there are seven of your privy
council, which are at least numerous, and part
of the court which are by infirmity like to be ab-
sent; that is, my lord chancellor, my lord ad-
miral, my Lord of Shrewsbury, my Lord of
F^xeter, my Lord Zouch, my Lord Stanhope, and
Mr. Chancellor of the Duchy: wherefore they
agreed to hold a council to-morrow in the after-
noon for that purpose.
It is true, that I was always of opinion, tSat it
was no time lost; and I dj think so me lather,
44
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
opcause I could be content that the matter of
i'eacham were first settled and put to a point.
For there be, perchance, that would make the ex-
ample upon I. S. to stand for all. For Peacham,
I expect some account from my fellows this day.
If it should fall out otherwise, then I hope it may
not be left so. Your majesty, in your last letter,
very wisely, put in a disjunctive that the judges
should deliver an opinion privately, either to my
lord chancellor or to ourselves, distributed; his
sickness, made the latter way to be taken : but
the other may be reserved, with some accommo-
dating, when we see the success of the former.
I am appointed, this day, to attend my lord
treasurer for a proposition of raising profit and
revenue, by enfranchising copy-holders. I am
right glad to see the patrimonial part of your
revenue well looked into, as well as the fiscal.
And I hope it will so be, in other parts as well
as this. God preserve your majesty.
Your majesty's most humble and devoted
subject and servant.
A LETTER TO THE KING OF ACCOUNT OF OWEN'S
CAUSE, ETC. 11 FEBRUARY, 1614.
It may please your excellent Majesty,
iMyself, with the rest of your counsel learned,
conferred with my Lord^Coke and the rest of
the judges of the King's Bench only, being met
at my lord's chamber, concerning the business
of Owen. For although it be true that your ma-
jesty in your letter did mention, that the same
course might be held in the taking of opinions
apart, in this which was prescribed and used in
Peacliam's cause; yet both my lords of the coun-
cil and we, amongst ourselves, holding it, in a
case so clear, not needful ; but rather that it
would import a diffidence in us, and deprive us
of the means to debate it with the judges (if cause
were) more strongly, (which is somewhat,) we
thought best rather to use this form.
The judges desired us to leave the examina-
tions and papers with them, for some little time,
to consider (which is a thing they use;) but I
conceive there will be no manner of question made
of it. My lord chief justice, to show forward-
ness, (as I interpret it,) showed us passages of
Suarez and others, thereby to prove, that though
your majesty stood not excommunicated by par-
ticular sentence, yet by the general bulls of Ccena
Domini, and others, you were upon the matter
evcommurt^ated; and therefore that the treason
was, as De praesenti. But I that foresee, that if
that course snould be held, when it cometh to a
public day, to disseminate to the vulgar an opi-
nion that your majesty's case is all one as if you
'vere de facto particularly and expressly excommu-
nicated, it would but increase the danger of your
person with those that are desperate Papists ; and
that it is needless; I commended my lord's dili-
gence, but withal put it by; and fell upon the
other course, (which is the true way ;) that is, that
whosoever shall affirm, in diem, or sub-condi-
tione, that your majesty may be destroyed, is a
traitor de praesenti; for that he maketh you but
tenant for life at the will of another. And I put
the Duke of Buckingham's case, who said, that
if the king caused him to be arrested of treason,
he would stab him ; and the case of the inipos-
tress, Elizabeth Barton, that said, that if King
Henry the Eighth took not his wife again, Katha-
rine Dowager, he should be no longer king; and
the like.
It may be these particulars are not worth the
relating. But, because I find nothing in the
world, so important to your service as to have
you thoroughly informed, (the ability of your direc-
tion considered,) it maketh me thus to do; most
humbly praying your majesty to admonish me, if
I be over troublesome.
For Peacham, the rest of my fellows are ready
to make their report to your majesty, at such time,
and in such manner, as your majesty shall require
it. Myself yesterday, took my Lord Coke aside,
after' the rest were gone, and told him all the rest
were ready, and I was now to require his lord-
ship's opinion, according to my commission. He
said, I should have it; and repeated that, twice
or thrice, as thinking he had gone too far, in that
kind of negative (to deliver any opinion apart)
before; and said he would tell it me within a
short time, though he were not at that instant
ready. I have tossed this business, in omnes
partes, whereof I will give your majesty know-
ledge, when time serveth. God preserve your
majesty.
Y'our majesty's most humble and devoted
subject and servant.
A LETTER TO THE KING, REPORTING THE DAY
OF HEARING OF I. S. HIS CAUSE, IN THE STAR
chamber. 29 april, 1615.
It may please your excellent Majesty,
I. S.'s day is past, and well past. I hold it to
be Janus bifrons; it hath a good aspect to that
which is past, and to the future; and doth both
satisfy and prepare. All did well : My lord
chief justice delivered the law for the benevo-
lence, strongly ; I would he had done it timely
Mr. Chancellor of the Exchequer spake finely,
somewhat after the manner of the late lord privy
seal : not all out so sharply, but as elegantly.
Sir Thomas Lake (who is also new in that court)
did very well, familiarly and counsellor-like. My
Lord of Pembroke (who is likewise a stranger
there) did extraordinary well, and became him-
self well, and had an evident applause. I meant
well also; and because my information was the
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO
4ft
(TTOund, liavinpf spoken out of a few heads which
I had gathered ; (for I seldom do more) I set
down, as soon as 1 came home, cursorily, a frame
of that I had said ; though I persuade myself I
spake it with more life. I have sent it to Mr.
Murray, sealed ; if your majesty have so much
idle time to look upon it, it may give some light
of the day's work : but I most humbly pray your
majesty to pardon the errors. God preserve you
ever.
Your majesty's most humble subject,
and devoted servant.
A LETTER TO THE KING, CONCERNING THE NEW
COMPANY. AUGUST 12, 1615.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
Your majesty shall shortly receive the bill, for
the incorporation of the New Company; together
with a bill, for the privy seal, being a dependency
thereof. For this morning I subscribed and
docketed them both. I think it, therefore, now
time, to represent to your majesty's high wisdom
that which I conceive, and have had long in mind,
concerning your majesty's service and honourable
profit in this business.
This project, which hath proceeded from a
worthy service of the lord treasurer, I have
from the beginning constantly affected; as may
well appear by my sundry labours from time to
time in the same. For I hold it a worthy character
of your majesty's reign and times ; insomuch, as
though your majrgty might have at this time (as
is spoken) a great annual benefit for the quitting
of it, yet, 1 shall never be the man that should
wish your majesty to deprive yourself of that
beatitude ; " Beatius est dare, quam accipere,"
in this cause; but to sacrifice your profit (though,
as your majesty's state is, it be precious to you)
to so great a good of your kingdom : although
this project is not without a profit, immediate unto
you, by the increasing of customs upon the mate-
rials of days.
But here is the case. The New Company, by
this patent and privy seal, are to have two things
wholly diverse from the first intention ; or rather,
ex diametro, opposite unto the same ; which,
nevertheless, the most of necessity have, or else
the work is overthrown. So as I may call them,
mala necessaria, but yet withal temporary. For
as men make war to have peace, so these mer-
chants must have license for whites, to the end to
banish whites; and they must have license to use
teyntours, to the end to banish teyntours.
This is therefore that I say ; your majesty upon
these two points may justly, and with honour,
and with preservation of your first intention in-
violate, demand profit in the interim, as long as
these unnatural points continue, and then to cease.
For your majesty may be plea^ed to observe they
are to have all the Old Company's profit, by the
trade of whites ; they are again to have upon the
proportion of clothes, which they shall vend dyed
and dressed, the Fleming's profit upon the teyn-
tour. Now then as I say, as it had been too good
husbandry for a king to have taken profit of them
if the project could have been effected at once, (as
was voiced ;) so on the other side it might be,
perchance, too little husbandry and profidence to
take nothing of them, for that which is merely
lucrative to them, in the mean time. Nay, I say
further, this will greatly conduce and be a kind
of security to the end desired. For I always
feared, and do yet fear, that when men, by condi-
tion merchants, though never so honest, have
gotten into their hands the trades of whites, and
the dispensation of teyntour, wherein they shall
reap profit for that which they never sowed ; but
have gotten themselves certainties, in respect of
the state's hopes; they are like enough to sleep
upon this, as upon a pillow, and to make no haste
to go on with the rest. And though it may be said
that that is a thing will easily appear to the state,
yet (no doubt) means may be devised and found
to draw the business in length. So that I con-
clude that if your majesty take a profit of them,
in the interim, (considering you refuse profit from
the Old Company,) it will be both spur and bridle
to them to make them pace aright to your ma-
jesty's end.
This, in all humbleness, according to my avow-
ed care and fidelity, being no man's man but
your majesty's, I present, leave, and submit to
your majesty's better judgment; and I could
wish your majesty would speak with Sir Thomas
Lake in it; who, besides his good habit which
he hath in business, beareth (methinks) an indif-
ferent hand in this particular; and (if it please
your majesty) it may proceed as from yourself,
and not as a motion or observation of mine.
Your majesty need not in this to be straitened
in time, as if this must be demanded or treated,
before you sign their bill; for L foreseeing this,
and foreseeing that many things might fall out
which I could not foresee, have handled it so, as
with their good contentment there is a power of
revocation inserted into their patent. And so,
commending your majesty to God's blessed and
precious custody, I rest
Your majesty's most humble and devoted
subject and servant.
A LETTER TO SIR GEORGE VTLLIERS, TOUCHING
ROPER'S PLACE. JANUARY 22, 1615.
Sir,
Sending to the king upon occasion, I would
not fail to salute you by my letter; which, that
it may be more than two lines, I add this for
news; that as I was sitting by my lord chief
46
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
iustiee upon the commission for the indicting of
the great person, one of the judges asked him
whether Roper were dead ? He saith, he for his
part knew not; another of the judges answered,
It should concern you, my lord, to know it.
Whereupon he turned his speech to me, and said.
No, Mr. Attorney, I will not wrestle now in my
latter times. My lord, (said I,) you speak like a
wise man. Well, (saith he,) they have had no
luck with it that have had it. I said again,
"Those days be past." Here you have the dia-
logue to make you merry, but in sadness I was
glad to perceive he meant not to contest. I can
but honour and love you, and rest
Your assured friend and servant.
A LETTER TO THE KING, ADVISING HOW TO
BREAK OFF WITH THE NEW COMPANY. FEB-
RUARY 3, 1615.
It MAY PLEASE YOUR EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
I spake yesternight long with my Lord Coke;
and for the "Rege Inconsulto," I conceive by
him it will be "an amplius deliberandum
censeo," (as I thought at first,) so as for the
present your majesty shall not need to renew your
commandment of stay. I spake with him also
about some propositions concerning your majes-
ty's casual revenue, wherein I found him to con-
sent with me fully; assuming, nevertheless, that
he had thought of them before; but it is one
thing to have the vapour of a thought; another to
digest business aright. He, on his part, imparted
to me divers things of great weight concernino-
the reparation of your majesty's means and
finances, which I heard gladly; insomuch as he
perceiving the same, I think, was the readier to
open himself to me in one circumstance, which
he did much inculcate. I concur freely with
him that they are to be held secret; fori never
saw but that business is like a child which is
framed invisibly in the womb, and if it come
forth too soon it will be abortive. I know in
most of them the prosecution must rest much
upon myself. But I, that had the power to pre-
vail in the farmer's case of the French wines,
without the help of my Lord Coke, shall be
better ^h\^ to go through these with his help, the
ground being no less just. And this I shall ever
add of mine own, that I shall ever respect your
majesty's honour no less than your profit; and
shall also take care, according to my pensive
manner, that that which is good for the present
have not in it hidden seeds of future inconve-
niences.
The matter of the New Company was referred
in me by the lords of the privy council; wherein,
%fter some private speech with Sir Lionel Cran-
"old, I made that report which I held most agree-
ble to truth and your majesty's service. If this
New Company break, it must either be put upon
the patent or upon the order made by themselves.
For the patent, I satisfied the board that there was
no title in it which was not either verbatim in the
patent of the Old Compiiny, or by special war-
rant from the table, inserted. My Lord Coke,
with much respect to me, acknowledged, but
disliked the old patent itself, and disclaimed his
being at the table when the additions were
allowed. But in my opinion, (howsoever my
Lord Coke, to magnify his science in law,
draweth every thing, though sometimes unpro-
perly and unseasonably, to that kind of question,)
it is not convenient to break the business upon
these points. For, considering they were but
clauses that were in the former patents, and in
many other patents of companies, and that the
additions likewise passed the allowance of the
table, it will be but clamoured, and perhaps con-
ceived, that to quarrel them now is but an occa-
sion taken, and that the times are changed rather
than the matter. But that which preserveth
entire your majesty's honour, and the constancy
of your proceedings, is to put the breach upon
their orders.
For this light I gave in my report, which the
table readily apprehended and much approved ;
that if the table reject their orders as unlawful
and unjust, it doth free you from their contract;
for whosoever contracteth, or undertaketh any
thing, is always understood to perform it by
lawful means; so, as they have plainly abused
the state if that which they have undertaken be
either impossible or unjust.
I am bold to present this consideration to that
excellent faculty of your majesty's judgment,
because I think it importeth that future good
which may grow to your majesty in the close of
this business; that the falling oflT be without all
exception. God have you in his precious
custody.
Your majesty's most humble and
bounden subject and servant.
A LETTER TO THE KING TOUCHING THE LORD
CHANCELLOR'S SICKNESS. FEBRUARY 9, 1615,
It MAY PLEASE YOUR MOST EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
I am glad to understand by Mr. Murray that
your majesty accepteth well of my poor endea-
vours in opening unto you the passages of your
service; that business may come the less crude,
and the more prepared to your royal judgment,
the perfection whereof, as I cannot expect they
should satisfy in every particular, so I hope,
through my assiduity, there will result a good
total.
My lord chancellor's sickness falleth out "dure
tempore." I have always known him a wise
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
4f
man, and of just elevation for monarchy, but
your majesty's service must not be mortal ; and
if you lose him, as your majesty liath now of
late purchased many hearts by depressing the
wicked, so God dotli minister unto you a coun-
terpart to do the like by raising the honest. God
evermore preserve your majesty.
Your majesty's most humble subject
and bounden servant.
A LETTER TO SIR GEORGE VILLTERS, TOUCHING
A MOTION TO SWEAR HIM COUNCILLOR. FEB.
21, lei.").
Sir, — My lord chancellor's health growing
with the days, and his resignation being an un-
certainty, 1 would be glad you went on with my
first motion, my swearing privy councillor. This
I desire, not so much to make myself more sure
of the other, and to put it past competition ; (for
herein, I rest wholly upon the king, and your ex-
cellent self) but, because I find hourly, that I
need this strength in his majesty's service, both
for my better warrant, and satisfaction of my con-
science, that I deal not in things above my voca-
tion ; and for my better countenance and prevail-
ing where his majesty's service is under any
pretext opposed, I would it were despatched. I
remember a greater matter than this, was
despatched by a letter from Royston ; which was,
the placing of the archbishop that now is: and I
imagine, the king did on purpose, that the act
migrht appear to be his own.
My lord chancellor told me yesterday, in plain
terms, that if the king would ask his opinion
touching the person that he would commend to
succeed him, upon death or disability, he would
name me for the fittest man. You may advise
whether use may not be made of this offer.
I sent a pretty while since a paper to Mr. John
Murray; which was, indeed, a little remembrance
of some things past; concerning my honest and
faithful services to his majesty, not by way of
boasting, (from which I am far,) but as tokens of
my studying his service uprightly and carefully.
If you be pleased to call for the paper which is
with Mr. .Tohn Murray, and to find a fit time, that
his majesty may cast an eye upon it, I think it
will do no hurt: and I have written to Mr. Mur-
ray to deliver the paper if you call for it. God
keep you in all happiness.
Your truest servant.
a letter to the king of advice, upon the
breach of the new co.mpany. feb. 25, 1615.
It may pleasf your most excellent Majesty,
Your privy council have wisely and truly dis-
cerned of the orders and demands of the New-
Company, that they are unlawful and unjust, and
themselves have now acknowledged the work im-
possible without them by their petition in writing,
now registered in the Council Book: so as this
conclusion (of their own making) is become
peremptory and final to themselves; and the im-
])0ssibility confessed the practice and abuse, re-
served to the judgment the state shall make of it.
This breach then of this great contract is wholly
on their part; which could not have been, if your
majesty had broken upon the patent: for thfl
patent was your majesty's act, the orders are their
act ; and in the former case they had not been
liable to further question, now they are.
There rest two things to be considered : the one
if they (like Proteus when he is hard held) shall
yet again vary their shape, and shall quit theii
orders, convinced of injustice, and lay their im-
position only upon the trade of whites, whether
your majesty shall further expect? The other, if
your majesty dissolve them upon this breach on
their part, what is further to be done for the set-
ting of the trade again in joint, and for your own
honour and profit? In both which points I will
not presume to give opinion, but only to break
the business for your majest3r's better judgment.
For the first, T am sorry the occasion was given,
(by my Lord Coke's speech at this time of the
commitment of some of them,) that they should
seek, "omnem movere lapidem," to help them-
selves. Better it had been, if (as my Lord Fen-
ton said tome that morning ver)'^ judiciously, and
with a great deal of foresight) that, for that time,
they should have had a bridge made for them to
be gone. But my Lord Coke floweth according
to his own tides, and not according to the tides
of business. The thing which my Lord Coke
said, was good and too little, but at this time it
was too much. But that is past. Howsoever, if
the)'' should go back, and seek again to entertain
your majesty with new orders or offers, (as is said
to be intended,) your majesty hath ready two
answers of repulse, if it please your majesty to
use them.
The one, that this is now the fourth time that
they have mainly broken with ^^lur majesty and
contradicted themselves. First, They undertook to
dye and dress all the cloths of the realm ; soon after
they wound themselves into the trade of whites,
and came down to the proportion contracted. Se-
condly, They ought to have performed that con-
tract according to their subscription, pro rata,
without any of these orders and impositions : soon
after they deserted their subscription, and had re-
course to these devices of orders. Thirdly, If by
order and not by subscription, yet their orders
should have laid it upon the whites, which is an
unlawful and prohibited trade, nevertheless, they
would have brought in lawful and settled trades,
full manufactures, merchandise of all natures,
poll money or brotherhood money, and I cannot
48
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
tell what. And now lastly, it seemeth they would ' company. And, therefore, I dare not advise to
go back to lay it upon the whiles: And, therefore, adventure tliis great trade of tlie kingdom (which
whether your majesty will any more rest and hath been so long under government) in a free
build this great wheel of your kingdom, upon or loose trade. The third is, a compounded way
these broken and brittle pins, and try experiments of both, which is, to go on with the trade of whites
further upon the health and body of your state, I by the Old Company restored ; and, that your
leave to your princely judgment. - majesty's profit be raised by order amongst theni-
The other answer of repulse is a kind of oppos- selves, rather than by double custom, wherein you
ing them what they will do after the three years must be the actor : and, that, nevertheless, there
contracted for? Which is a point hitherto not ; be added a privilege to the same company to
much stirred, though Sir Lionel Cranfield hath carry out cloths dyed and dressed custom free;
ever beaten upon it in his speech with me: for I which will still continue as a glorious beam of
after three years they are not tied, otherways than your majesty's royal design. I hope and wish at
as trade shall give encouragement ; of which en- j least that tliis, which I have written, may be of
couragement your majesty hath a bitter taste, i some use to your majesty to settle by the advice
And if they should hold on according to the third of the lords about you this great business. At the
year's proportion, and not rise on by further gra-
dation, your majesty hath not your end. No, I
fear, and having long feared that this feeding of
the foreigner may be dangerous. For as we may
think to hold up our clothing by vent of whites,
till we can dye and dress ; so they (I mean the
Dutch) will think to hold up their manufacture
of dying and dressing upon our whites till they
can cloth : so as your majesty hath the greatest
reason in the world to make tlie New Company
to come in and strengthen that part of their con-
tract; and they refusing (as it is confidently be-
lieved they will) to make their default more visi-
ble to all men.
For the second main part of your majesty's con-
sultation, (that is, what shall be done, supposing
an absolute breach,) 1 have had some speech with
Mr. Secretary Lake, and likewise witli Sir Lionel
Cranfield; and (as I conceive) there may be
three ways taken into consideration. The first
is, that the Old Company be restored, who (no
doubt) are in appetite, and (as I find by Sir Lionel
Cranfield) not unprepared ; and that the licenses,
the one, that of 30,000 cloths, which was the
old license; the other, that of my Lord of Cum-
berland's, which is without stint, (my Lord of
Cumberland receiving satisfaction,) be com-
pounded into one entire license without stint;
and then that they amongst themselves take order
for that profit which hath been offered to your
majesty. This is a plain and known way, wherein
your majesty is not an actor; only it hath this,
that the work of dy
least it is the effect of my care and poor ability,
which if in me be any, it is given me to no other
end but faithfully to serve your majesty. God
ever preserve you.
Your majesty's most humble subject,
and bounden servant.
ANOTHER LETTER, TO SIR GEORGE VILLIERS,
TOUCHING A MOTION TO SWEAR HIM COUN-
CILLOR. FEBRUARY 27, 1615.
Sir, — I humbly pray you not to think me over
hasty or much in appetite, if I put you in remem-
brance of my motion of strengthening me with the
oath and trust of a privy councillor; not for mine
own strength, (for as to that, I thank God I arn
armed within,) but for the strength of my service.
The times, I submit to you who knoweth them
best. But sure I am, there were never times
which did more require a king's attorney to be
well armed, and (as I said once to you) to wear a
gauntlet and not a glove. The arraignments,
when they proceed ; the contention between the
Chancery and King's Bench ; the great cause of
the rege inconsulto, which is so precious to the
king's prerogative; divers other services that
concern the king's revenue, and the repair of his
estate. Besides, it pleaseth his majesty to accept
well of my relations touching his business ; which
may seem a kind of interloping (as the merchants
call it) for one that is no cnuncillor. But I leave
all unto you, thinking myself infinitely bounden
nldre'ssing cloths; which I 'f^ ^""^ f""" f"'' f '"' ^'^^''"'^^ ' '^' ^T*"' \^^^^-
hath been so much glorified, seemeth to be wholly i °^ ^ '"' f^'""'^ ''^''' "P*^" ™" •'^"" ^■"""^ "'^^^^ =
relinquished if you leave there. The second is,
that there be a free trade of cloth, with this differ-
ence; that the dyed and dressed pay no custom,
and the whites double custom, it being a merchan-
dise prohibited and only licentiate. This continu-
eth in life and fame the work desired, and will have
popular applause. But I do confess I did ever
thinK. that trading in companies is most agree- A LETTER TO SIR GEORGE vii.liers. TOUClllNt;
able to the English nature, which wanteth that His swearing councillor, may 30, icib.
VAiae general vein of a republic, which runneth Sir,— The time is, as 1 should think, now or
in the Dutch; and serveth to them instead of a never, for his majesty to finish his good meaning
ph
so that now I have no greater ambition than this;
that as the king showeth himself to you the best
master, so I might be found your best servant.
Li which wish and vow, I shall ever rest.
Most devoted and affectionate to obey
your commands.
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
40
towards me; if it please him to consider what is
past, and wiiat is to come.
If 1 would tender my profit, and oblitre men
nnto me by my place and practice, I could have
more profit than I could devise, and could oblige
all the world and ofTend none; which is a brave
condition for a man's private. But my heart is
not on these things. Yet, on the other side, I
would be sorry that worthless persons should
make a note that I get nothing but pains and ene-
mies ; and a little popular reputation, which
followeth me whether I will or no. If any thing
be to be done for yourself, I should take infinite
contentment, that my honour might wait upon
yours : But I would be loath it should wait upon
any man's else. If you would put your strength
to this business it is done; and that done many
things more will begin. God keep you ever ; 1
rest,
Your true and devoted servant.
A LETTER TO SIR GEORGE VILLIERS, UPON THE
CHOIf'E HIS MAJESTY GAVE HIM, WHETHER HE
WOULD HE SWORN COUNCILLOR, OR HAVE
ASSURANCE TO SUCCEED THE CHANCELLOR.
JUNE 3, 1616.
Sir, — The king giveth me a noble choice, and
you are the man my heart ever told me you were.
Ambition would draw me to the latter part of the
choice ; but in respect of my hearty wishes that
my lord chancellor may live long, and the small
hopes I have, that I shall live long myself, and
above all, because I see his majesty's service
daily and instantly bleedeth; towards which I
persuade myself (vainly, perhaps, but yet in mine
own thoughts firmly and constantly) that I shall
give, when I am of the table, some effectual fur-
therance, (as a poor thread of the labyrinth, which
hath no other virtue but a united continuance,
without interruption or distraction,) I do accept
of the former, to be councillor for the present, and
to give over pleading at bar : let the other matter
rest upon my proof and his majesty's pleasure,
and the accidents of time. For, to speak plainly
I would be loath that my lord chancellor, to
whom I owe most after the king and yourself,
should be locked to his successor for any advance-
ment or gracing of me. So I ever remain
Your true, and most devoted,
and obliged servant.
TO HIS VERY HONOURABLE GOOD FRIEND, SIR
GEORGE VILLIERS, MASTER OF THE HORSE TO
HIS MAJESTY, AND OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER
OF THE GARTER. JUNE 12, 1616.
Sir, — I send his majesty a draught of the act
of council, concerning the judges' letter; penned
to near as I could to his majesty's instructions
Vol. III.— 7
received in your presence. I then told his ma-
jesty my memory was not able to keep way with
his, and therefore his majesty will pardon me for
any omission or errors, and be pleased to supply
and reform the same. I am preparing some other
materials for his majesty's excellent hand con-
cerning business that is coming on. For since
his majesty hath renewed my heart within me,
methinks I should double my endeavours. God
ever preserve and prosper you. I rest
Your most devoted,
and bound en servant.
A LETTER TO SIR GEORGE VILLIERS, FOR THE
RESTORING OF DOCTOR BURGIS TO PREACH.
JUNE 12, 1616.
Sir, — I do think you may do yourself honour,
and (that which is more) doka good work, if you
will assist and perfect a motion begun (and that
upon a good ground, both of submission and con-
formity) for the restoring of Doctor Burgis to
preach ; and I wish, likewise, that if Gray's-Inn
should think good (after he is free from the state)
to choose him for their preacher, his majesty
should not be against it; for certainly we should
watch him well if he should fly forth ; so as he
cannot be placed in a more safe auditory. This
may seem a trifle, but I do assure you, I do
scarce know a particular wherein you may open
more honest mouths to speak honour of you than
this. And I do extremely desire there may be a
full cry from all sorts of people (especially the
best) to speak and to trumpet out your commen-
dations. I pray you take it to heart, and do
somewhat in it. I rest
Your devoted and bounden servant.
A LETTER TO THE KING, TOUCHING SIR GEORGE
VILLIERS' PATENT FOR BARON OF BLETCHLEY
AND VISCOUNT VILLIERS. AUGUST 12, 1616.
It MAY PLEASE YOUR MOST EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
I have sent Sir George Viliiers' patent, drawn
again, containing also a barony ; the name
Bletchley is his own, and to my thinking, sound-
eth better than Whaddon. I have included both
in one patent, to avoid a double preface, and as
hath been used in the patents of earls of like
nature; nevertheless, the ceremony of robing,
and otherwise, is to be double, as is also used in
like cases of earls.
It resteth that I express unto your majesty my
great joy in your honouring and advancing this
gentleman; whom to describe, not with colours,
but with true lines, I may say this ; your majesty
certainly hath found out and chosen a safe
nature, a capable man, an honest will, generous
j and noble affections, and a courage well lodged ;
and one, that I know, loveth your majesty
E
50
LETfERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
unfeignedly ; and admireth you as much as is in a
man to admire his sovereign upon earth. Only
your majesty's school (wherein he hath already
so well profiled as in this entrance upon the
stage, being the time of greatest danger, he hath
not committed any manifest error) will add per-
fection to your majesty's comfort, and the great
contentment of your people. God ever preserve
and prosper your majesty. I rest, in all humble-
ness,
Your majesty's most bounden and most
devoted subject and servant.
A LETTER TO SIR GEORGE VILLIERS, UPON THE
SENUIxNG OF HIS PATENT FOR THE CREATION
OF VISCOUNT, SEALED AUGUST 20. 161G.
Sir, — I took muph contentment in that I per-
ceive by your letter that you took in so good part
the freedom of my advice, and that yourself in
your own nature consented therewith. Cer-
tainly, no service is comparable to good counsel ;
and the reason is, because no man can do so
much for another as a man may do for himself;
now good counsel helpeth a man to help himself,
but you have so happy a master as supplieth all ;
my service and good will shall not be wanting.
It was graciously and kindly done also of his
majesty towards me to tell you that you were
beholding to me ; but it must be then, for think-
ing of you as I do; for otherwise, for speaking
as I think, it is but the part of an honest man. I
send you your patent, whereof God give you joy :
and I send you here enclosed a little note of
remembrance for that part of the ceremony which
concerneth the patent; for, as for other ceremo-
nies, I leave to others.
My lord chancellor despatched your patent
presently upon the receipt ; and wrote to me
how glad he was of it, and how well he wished
you. If you write to him a few words of thanks,
I think you shall do well. God keep you, and
prosper you.
Your true and most devoted servant.
A LETTER TO SIR GEORGE VILLIERS, ACKNOV^^-
LEDGING THE KING'S FAVOUR IN GRANTING
SOME SUIT OF HIS. AUGUST 22, 1616.
Sir, — I am more and more bound unto his
majesty, who, I think, knowing me to have other
ends than ambition, is contented to make me
judge of mine own desires. I am now beating
my brains, (amongst many cares of bis majesty's
business) touching the redeeming of time in this
ousiness of cloth. The great question is, how to
miss, or how to mate "he Flemings; how to pass
by them, or how to pass over them.
In my next letter I shall alter your style ; but
I shall never, whilst I breathe, alter mine own
style in being
Your true and most devoted servant.
THE LORD KEEPER'S LETTER TO THE UNIVER
SITY, IN ANSWER OF THEIR CONGRATULATION
AT HIS FIRST COMING TO THAT PLACE.
To THE RENOWNED UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE,
HIS DEAR AND REVERfiND MoTHER.
My Lord, — I am debtor to you of your letters,
and of the time likewise that I have taken to
answer them ; but as soon as I could choose
what to think on, I thought good to let you
know, that although you may err much in your
valuation of me, yet you shall not be deceived in
your assurance ; and for the other part also,
though the manner be to mend the picture by the
life, yet I would be glad to mend the life by the
picture, and to become, and be, as you express
me to be. Your gratulations shall be no more
welcome to me than your business or occasions,
which I will attend ; and yet not so but that I
shall endeavour to prevent them by my care of
your good. And so I commend you to God's
goodness.
Your most loving and assured friend and son,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
Gorhambury, April 12, 1617.
A LETTER OF KING JAMES, WRITTEN TO HIS
LORDSHIP WHEN HE WAS LORD CHANCELLOR,
WITH HIS MAJESTY'S OWN HAND, UPON THE
SENDING TO HIM HIS BOOK OF INSTAURATIO
MAGNA, THEN NEWLY PUBLISHED.
My Lord, — I have received your letter, and
your book; than the which you could not have
sent a more acceptable present unto me. How
thankful I am for it cannot better be expressed
by me than by a firm resolution I have taken ;
first, to read it through with care and attention,
though I should steal some hours from my sleep,
having otherwise as little spare time to read it as
you had to write it. And then, to use the liberty
of a true friend in not sparing to ask you the
question in any point where I shall stand in
doubt; "Nam ejus est explicare cujus est con-
dere ;" as, on the other part, I will willingly
give a due commendation to such places as in my
opinion shall deserve it. In the mean time, I can
with comfort assure you, that you could not have
made choice of a subject more befitting your
place, and your universal methodic knowledge ;
and in the general, I have already observed, that
you jump with me in taking the midway between
the two extremes; as also in some particulars 1
have found that you agree fully with my opinion
And so, praying God to give your work as good
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
51
■uccpqs as your heart can wish, and your labours
deserve, 1 bid you heartily farewell.
James Rex.
October 10, 1620.
TO MY LORD OF ESSEX.
My singular good Lord,
I may perceive, by my Lord Keeper, that your
lordship, as the time served, si<rnified unto him
an intention to confer j\ith his lordship at better
opportunity; which in regard of your several and
weitrhty occasions I have thoutrht g-ood to put
your lordsbip in remembrance of; that now at
his coming to the court it may be executed ; de-
siring your good lordship, nevertheless, not to
conceive out of this my diligence in soliciting
this matter, that I am either much in appetite or
much in hope. For, as for appetite, the waters of
Parnassus are not like the waters of the Spa, that
give a stomach, but rather they quench appetite
and desires ; and for hope, how can he hope much
that can allege no other reason than the reason of
an evil debtor, who will persuade his creditor to
lend him new sums, and to enter further in with
him to make him satisfy the old? And, to her
majesty, no other reason but the reason of a
waterman ; I am her first man of those who serve
in counsel of law. And so I commit your lord-
ship to God's best preservation.
TO MY LORD OF ESSEX.
My Lord, — Conceiving that your lordship came
now up in the person of a good servant to see your
sovereign mistress; which kind of compliments are
many times "instar magnorum meritorum;" and
therefore that it would be hard for me to find you, I
have committed to this poor paper the humble
salutations of him that is more yours than any
man's; and more yours than any man. To these
salutations I add a due and joyful gratulation,
confessing that your lordship, in your last con-
ference with me before your journey, spake not
in vain, God making it good, that you trusted we
should say, "quis putassef?" Which, as it is
found true in a happy sense, so I wish you do
not find another " quis putasset," in the manner
of taking this so great a service; but I hope it is
as he said, "nubecula est cito transibit;" and
that your lordship's wisdom and obsequious cir-
cumspection and patience will turn all to the
best. So, referring all to some time that I may
aiiend you, I commit you to God's best pre-
servation.
TO MY LORD OF ESSEX.
M yLord, — I am glad your lordship hath plunged
out of 3'our own business ; wherein I must com-
mend your lordship as Xenophon commended tho
state of his country, which was this : that having
chosen the worst form of government of all others,
they governed the best in that kind. " Hoc pace
et venia tua," according to my charter. Now,
as your lordship is my witness that I would not
trouble you whilst your own cause was in hand,
(though that I know that the further from the
term the better the time was to deal for me,) so,
that being concluded, I presume I shall be one of
your next cares. And having communicated
with my brother of some course either to perfit
the first, or to make me some other way ; or rather,
by seeming to make me some other way, to per-
fit the first, wherewith he agreed to acquaint your
lordship ; I am desirous, for mine own better
satisfaction, to speak with your lordship myself,
which I had rather were somewhere else than at
court; and as soon as your lordship will assign
me to wait on you. And so, in, etc.
TO SIR ROBERT CECIL.
Sir, — Your honour knoweth my manner is,
though it be not the wisest way, yet taking it for
the honestest, to do as Alexander did by his phy-
sician in drinking the medicine and delivering the
advertisement of suspicion; so I trust on and yet
do not smother what I hear. I do assure you,
sir, that by a wise friend of mine, and not facti-
ous toward your honour, I was told with asseve-
ration, that your honour was bought by Mr.
Coventry, for 2000 angels ; and that you wrought
in a contrary spirit to my lord your father. And
he said further, that from your servants, from
your lady, from some counsellors that have ob-
served you in my business, he knew you wrought
underhand against me. The truth of which tale
I do not believe; you know the event will show,
and God will right. But as I reject this report,
(though the strangeness of my case might make
me credulous,) so I admit a conceit that the last
messenger my lord and yourself used, dealt ill
with your honours; and that word (speculation)
which was in the queen's mouth rebounded from
him as a commendation, for I am not ignorant of
those little arts. Therefore, I pray, trust not him
again in my matter. This was much to write,
but I think my fortune will set me at liberty,
who am weary of asserviling myself to every
man's charity. Thus I, etc.
TO SIR JOHN STANHOPE.
Sir, — Your good promises sleep, which it may
seem now no time to awake, but that I do not find
that any general calendar of observation of time
serveth for the court; and, besides, if that be
52
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
done whicl- I hope by this time is done, and that
other matter shall be done which we wish may
De done, I hope to my poor matter, the one of
these great matters may clear the way and the
other give the occasion. And though my lord
treasurer be absent, whose health, nevertheless,
will enable him to be sooner at court than is ex-
pected ; especiafly if this hard weather (too hard
to continue) shall relent ; yet we abroad say, his
lordship's spirit may be there though his person
be away. Once I take for a good ground that
her majesty's business ought to keep neither va-
cation nor holiday, either in the execution or in
the care and preparation of those whom her ma-
jesty calleth and useth; and, therefore, I would
think no time barred from remembering that with
such discretion and respect as appertaineth. The
conclusion shall be to put you in mind to main-
tain that which you have kindly begun, according
to the reliance I have upon the sincerity of your
affection and the soundness of your judgment.
And so I commend you to God's preservation.
to my lord of essex.
It may please your Lordship,
I am very sorry her majesty should take my
motion to travail in offence; but surely, under
her majesty's royal correction, it is such an
offence as it should be an offence to the sun, when
a man to avoid the scorching heat thereof flieth
into the shade. And your lordship may easily
think, that having now these twenty years (for
so long it is, and more, since I went with Sir
Amyas Paulett into France, from her majesty's
royal hand) I made her majesty's service the
scope of my life: I shall never find a greater
grief than this, " relinquere amorem primum."
But since "principia actionum sunt tantum in
nostra potestate ;" I hope her majesty of her
clemency, yea, and justice, will pardon me, and
not force me to pine here with melancholy. For
though mine heart be good, yet mine eyes will
be sore, so as I shall have no pleasure to look
abroad, and if I should otherwise be affected, her
majesty in her wisdom will think me an impu-
dent man that would face out a disgrace ; there-
fore, as I have ever found you my good lord and
true friend, so I pray open the matter so to her
majesty, as she may discern the necessity of it,
without adding hard conceit to her rejection ; of
which I am sure the latter I never deserved.
Tlius, etc.
find you conceive of me for the ob*iining of a
good place which some of my honourable friends
have wished unto me, " nee opinanti." I will
use no reason to persuade your lordship's media-
tion but this, that your lordship and my othei
friends shall in this beg my life of the queen ;
for I see well the bar will be my bier, a^ I must
and will use it rather than my poor estate oi
reputation shall decay; but I stand indifferent
whether God call me or her majesty. Had I
that in possession which'by your lordship's only
means against the greatest opposition her majesty
granted me, I would never trouble her majesty,
but serve her still voluntarily without pay.
Neither do I in this more than obey my friends'
conceits as one that would not be wholly wanting
to myself. Your lordship's good opinion doth
somewhat confirm me, as that I take comfort in
above all others; assuring your lordship that I
never thought so well of myself for any one thing
as that I have found a fitness to my thinking in
myself to observe and revere your virtues ; for
the continuance whereof in the prolonging of
your days I will still be your beadsman; accord-
ingly, at this time, commend your lordship to
the divine protection.
TO THE LORD TREASURER.
Jt may please your good Lordship,
I dm to give you humble thanks for your favour-
abio opinion, which by Mr. Secretary's report I
TO FOULK GREVIL.
Sir, — I understand of your pains to have visited
me, for which I thank you. My matter is an end-
less question. I assure you, I had said, " requiesce
anima mea;" but now I am otherwise put to my
psaiter, " nolite confidere," I dare go no farther.
Her majesty had by set speech more than once
assured me of her intention to call me to her ser-
vice; which I could not understand but of the
place I had been named to. And now, whether
"invidus homo hoc fecit," or whether my matter
must be an appendix to my Lord of Essex's suit,
or whether her miijesty, pretending to prove my
ability, meaneth but to take advantage of some
errors, which, like enough, at one time or other I
may commit, or what it is, but her majesty is not
ready to despatch it. And what though the master
of the rolls and my Lord of Essex, and yourself
and others think my case without doubt, yet, in
the mean time I have a hard condition to stand so,
that whatsoever service I do to her majesty, it
shall be thought to be but "servitium viscatum,"
lime-twigs and fetches to place myself: and so I
shall have envy, not thanks. This is a course to
quench all good spirits, and to corrupt every man's
nature; which will, I fear, much hurt her majes-
ty's service in the end. I have been like a piece
of stuff bespoken in the shop : and if her majesty
will not take me, it may be the selling by parrels
will be more gainful. For to be, as I told yen,
like a child following a bird, which, when he i»
nearest, flieth away and lighteth a little before,
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
53
and then the child after it again, and so in infini-
tum, I am weary of it: as also of wearying my
good friends, of whom, nevertheless, I hope in one
rourse or other gratefully to deserve. And so, not
forgetting your business I leave to trouble you
with this idle letter, being but " justa et mode-
rata querimonia." For, indeed, I do confess,
" primus amor," will not easily be cast off. And
thus again I commend me to you.
to the lord treasurer burghley.
Most honourable and mv vkry good Lord,
I know, I may commit an error in writing this
letter, both in a time of great and weighty busi-
ness ; as also when myself am not induced thereto,
by any new particular occasion : And, thereof,
your lordship may impute to me either levity or
ignorance, what appertaineth to good respects and
forwardness of dealing; especially to an honour-
able person, in whom there is such concurrence
of magnitudo honoris et oneris, as it is hard to
say, whether is the greater. But I answer myself
first, that I have ever noted it as a part of your
lordship's excellent wisdom, " parvis componere
magna," that you do not exclude inferior matters
of access amongst the care of great. And, for
myself, I thought it would better manifest what
1 desire to express, if I did write out of a deep
and settled consideration of my own duty, rather
than upon the spur of a particular occasion. And,
therefore, (my singular good lord,) "ex abundan-
tia cordis," I must acknowledge how greatly and
diversely your lordship hath vouchsafed to tie me
unto you by many your benefits. The reversion
of the office which your lordship only procured
unto me, and carried through great and vehement
opposition, though it yet bear no fruit, yet, it is
one of the fairest flowers of my poor estate; your
lordship's constant and serious endeavours to have
me solicitor; your late honourable wishes, for the
place of the wards ; together with your lord-
ship's attempt to give me way by the remove
of Mr. Solicitor ; they be matters of singular
obligation ; besides many other favours, as well
by your lordship's grants from yourself, as by
your commendation to others, which I have had
for my help ; and may justly persuade myself, out
of the few denials I have received, that fewer
might have been, if mine own industry and good
hap had been answerable to your lordship's good-
ness. But, on the other side, I most humbly pray
your lordship's pardon if I speak it; the time is
yet to come, that your lordship did ever use or
command, or employ me in my profession in any
services or occasion of your lordship's own, or
such as are near unto your lordship; which hath
made me fear sometimes that your lordship doth
more honourably affect me than thoroughly dis-
cern of my most humble and dutiful affection to
your lordship again. Which, if it were not in
me, I know not whether I were unnatural, un-
thankful, or unwise. This causeth me, most
humbly to pray your lordship (and I know min«
own case too well to speak it as weening I can
do your lordship service, but as willing to do it,
as) to believe that your lordship is upon just title
a principal owner and proprietor of that I cannot
call talent, but mite that God hath given me ;
which I ever do and shall devote to your service.
And in like humble manner I pray your lordship
to pardon mine errors, and not to impute unto me
the errors of any other; (which I know also,
themselves have by this time left and fore-
thought :) but to conceive of me to be a man that
daily profiteth in duty. It is true, I do in part
comfort myself, supposing that it is my weakness
and insufficiency that moveth your lordship, who
hath so general a command to use others more
able. But let it be as it is; for duty only and
homage I will boldly undertake that nature and
true thankfulness shall never give place to a
politic dependence. Lastly, I most humbly de-
sire your lordship to continue unto me the good
favour and countenance and encouragement in the
course of my poor travails; whereof I have had
some taste and experience ; for the which, I yield
your lordship my very humble good thanks. And
so again craving your honour's pardon for so
long a letter, carrying so empty an offer of so un-
puissant a service, hut yet a true and unfeigned
signification of an honest and vowed duty, I cease,
commending your lordship to the preservation of
the Divine Majesty.
TO MY LORD OF ESSEX.
Most honourable and my singular good Lord,
I cannot but importune your lordship with
thanks for your lordship's remembering my name
to my lord keeper; which being done in such an
article of time, could not but be exceedingly en-
riched both in demonstration and effect : which I
did well discern by the manner of expressing
thereof by his lordship again to me. This accu
mulating of your lordship's favours upon mt,
hitherto worketh only this effect ; that it raiseth
my mind to aspire to be found worthy of them ;
and likewise to merit and serve you for them.
But whether I shall be able to pay my vows or no,
I must leave that to God, who hath them in de-
posito. Whom, also, I most instantly beseech to
give you fruit of your actions beyond that your
heartcan propound. "Nam Deus major est corde.''
Even to the environing of his benedictions, I
recommend your lordship.
TO SIR THOMAS LUCY.
Sir, — There was no news better welcome to roe
this long time, than that of the good success of
e2
54
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
my kinsman ; wherein if he be happy he cannot
be happy alone, it consisting of two parts. And
I render you no less kind thanks for your aid and
favour towards him, than if it had been for myself;
assuring you that this bond of alliance shall, on
my part, tie me to give all the tribute to your
good fortune upon all occasions, that my poor
strength can yield. I send you so required an
abstract of the lands of inheritance, and one lease
of great value, which my kinsman bringeth, with
a note of the tenures, values, contents, and state,
truly and perfectly drawn; whereby you may per-
cinve the land is good land, and well countenanced
by scope of acres, woods, and royalties, though
the total of the rents be set down as it now goeth
without improvement: in which respect it may
somewhat differ from your first note. Out of this,
what he will assure in jointure, I leave it to his
own kindness; for I love not to measure affection.
To conclude, I doubt not your daughter might
have married to a better living, but never to a
better life; having chosen a gentleman bred to all
honesty, virtue, and worth, with an estate conve-
nient. And if my brother or myself were either
thrivers, or fortunate in the queen's service, I
would hope there should be left as great a house
of the Cokes in this gentleman as in your good
friend, Mr. Attorney General. But sure I am,
if Scriptures fail not, it will have as much of
God's blessing and sufficiency as ever the best
feast, &c.
to sir ropert cecii.
My singular good Lord,
The argument of my letters to ycur krdship
rather increaseth than spendeth ; it being only the
desire I have to salute you : wliich, by your ab-
sence is more augmented than abated. For me
to write your lordship occurrences either of Scot-
tish brags or Irish plants, or Spanish ruffling, or
Low Country states, were (besides that it is
" alienum quiddam" from mine own humour) to
forget to whom I write ; save that you, that know
true advertisements, sometimes desire and delight
to hear common reports; as we that know but
common reports desire to hear the truth. But to
leave such as write to your fortunes, I write to
yourself in regard of my love to you, you being
as near to me in heart's blood as in blood of de-
scent. This day I had the contentment to see
your father upon occasion; and methought his
lordship's countenance was not decayed, nor his
cough vehement; but his voice Avas as faint all
the while as at first. Thus, wishing your lord-
ship a happy and speedy return, I commend you
to the Divine Majesty.
TO SIR ROBERT CECIL, AT HIS BEING IN
FRANCE.
Jt may please your honourable Lordship,
I know you will pardon this my observance, in
writing to you empty of matter, but out of the
fulness of my love. I am sorry that, as your
time of absence is prolonged above that was
esteemed at your lordship's setting forth ; so, now,
upon this last advertisement received from you,
there groweth an opinion amongst better than the
vulgar, that the difficulties also of your negotia-
tion are increased. But, because I know the gravity
of your nature to be not to hope lightly, it maketh
me to despair the less. For you are " natus ad
ardua:" and the indisposition of the subject may
honour the skill of the workman. Sure I am,
judgment and diligence shall not want in your
'ordship's self: but this was not my purpose;
being only to signify unto your lordship my con-
tinual and incessant love towards you, thirsting
after your return for many respects. So I com-
mend you ever to the good preservation of the
divine majesty. Gray's Inn.
At your honour's commandment, ever,
and particularly.
TO THE QUEEN.
It may please your sacred Majesty,
I would not fail to give your majesty my most
humble and due thanks for your royal choice of
such commissioners in the great Star Chamber
cause ; being persons besides their honour of such
science and integrity. By whose report I doubt
not but your majesty will find that which you
have been heretofore informed, (both by my lord
keeper, and by some much meaner person,)
touching the nature of that cause, to be true.
1 This preparatory hearing doth already assail me
with new and enlarged offers of composition ;
which, if I had borne a mind to have hearkened
unto, this matter had been quenched long ago,
without any benefit to your majesty. But your
majesty's benefit is to me in greater regard than
mine own particular : trusting to your majesty's
gracious disposition and royal word, that your
majesty will include me in any extraordinary
course of your sovereign pleasure, which your
majesty shall like to take in this cause. The
other man I spoke to your majesty of, may, within
I these two terms, be in the same straits between
' your majesty's justice and mercy, that this man
now is, if your majesty be so pleased. So, most
humbly craving pardon for my presuming to seek
access for these few lines, I recommend your
majesty to the most precious custody, and best
preservation of the Divine Majesty.
j Your majesty's most humble and entirely
1 obedient servant and subject.
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
K5
TO THE QUEEN*
[t may please your Majesty,
li were great simplicity in me to look for better
tlran that your majesty should cast away my letter
as you have done me ; were it not that it is pos-
sible your majesty will think to find somewhat in
it, whereupon your displeasure may take hold ;
and so indignation may obtain that of you which
favour could not. Neither might I in reason pre-
sume to offer unto your majesty dead lines, my-
self being excluded as I am; were it not upon
this only argument or subject; namely, to clear
myself in point of duty. Duty, though my state
lie buried in the sands, and my favours be cast
upon the waters, and my honours be committed
to tlie wind ; yet standeth surely built upon the
rock, and hath been, and ever shall be unforced
and unattempted. And, therefore, since the
world out of error, and your majesty I fear out of
art is pleased to put upon me; that I have so
much as any election or will in this my absence
from attendance ; I cannot but leave this protes-
tation with your majesty; That I am and have
been merely a patient, and take myself only to
obey and execute your majesty's will. And,
indeed, madam, I had never thought it possible
that your majesty could have so disinterested
yourself of me ; nor that you had been so perfect
in the art of forgetting ; nor that after a quintes-
sence of wormwood, your majesty would have
taken so large a draught of poppy ; as to have
passed so many summers without all feeling of
my sufferings. But the only comfort I have is
this, that I know your majesty taketh delight and
contentment in executing this disgrace upon me.
And, since your majesty can find no other use of
me, I am glad yet I can serve for that. Thus
making my most humble petition to your majesty,
that in justice (howsoever you may by strange-
ness untie, or by violence cut asunder all other
knots) your majesty would not touch me in that
which is indissoluble ; that is, point of duty : and
that your majesty will pardon this my unwar-
ranted presumption of writing, being to such an
end: I cease in all humbleness;
Your majesty's poor, and never
so unworthy servant,
Essex.
believe your lordship looked to have found hci
majesty in all points as you have done; neither
her majesty, percase, looked to have found your
lordship as she hath done. And, therefore, I hope
upon this experience may grow more perfect
knowledge, and upon knowledge more true con-
sent; which I, for my part, do infinitely wish, as
accounting these accidents to be like the fish,
remora, which, though it be not great, yet hath it
a hidden property to hinder the sailing of the ship.
And, therefore, as bearing unto your lordship,
after her majesty, of all public persons the second
duty, I could not but signify unto you my affec-
tionate gratulation. And so I commend your
good lordship to the best preservation of the
Divine Majesty.
From Gray's Inn.
TO MY LORD OF ESSEX.
It may please your Lordship,
That your lordship is in "statu quo prius," no
man taketh greater gladness than I do; the rather,
because I assure myself that of your eclipses, as
this hath been the longest, it shall be the least;
as the comical poet saith, "neque illam tu satis
noveras, neque te ilia, hoc ubi fit, ibi non vivitur."
For, if I may be so bold as to say what I think, I ]
i
• Written by Mr. Bacon for my Lord of Essex. I
to sir robert cecil.
It may please your good Honour,
I am apt enough to condemn " mendacia famae,"
yet it is with this distinction, as fame walks
among inferiors, and not as it hath entrance into
some ears. And, yet, nevertheless, in that kind
also, I intend to avoid a suspicious silence, but
not to make any base apology. It is blown about
the town that I should give opinion touching my
Lord of Essex's cause ; first, that it was a pre-
munire; and now last, that it reached to high
treason. And this opinion should be given in
opposition to the opinion of the lord chief justice
and of Mr. Attorney-General. Sir, I thank God,
whatsoever opinion my head serveth me to deli-
ver to her majesty, being asked, my heart serveth
me to maintain; the same honest duty directing
me and assisting me. But the utter untruth of
this report God and the queen can witness ; and
the improbability of it every man that hath wit,
more or less, can conceive. The root of this I
discern to be not so much a light and humorous
envy at my accesses to her majesty, (which of
her majesty's grace being begun in my first years,
I would be sorry she should estrange in my last
years, for so I account them, reckoning by health,
not by age ;) as a deep malice to your honourable
self; upon whom, by me, through nearness, they
think to make some aspersion. But, as I know
no remedy against libels and lies, so I hope it
shall make no manner of disseverance of your
honourable good conceits and affection towards
me ; which is the thing I confess to fear. For,
as for any violence to be offered to me, wherewith
my friends tell me, to no small terror, that I am
threatened, I thank God I have the privy coat of
a good conscience; and have a good while since
put off any fearful care of life, or the accidents of
life. So, desiring to be preserved in your gooH
opinion, I remain.
00
LETi^ERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
TO THE QUEEN.
It may please your excellent Majesty,
I presume, accordino^ to the ceremony and good
manner of the time, and my accustomed duty, in
all humbleness to present your majesty with a
simple gift; almost as far from answering my
mind as sorting with your greatness; and there-
with wish that we may continue to reckon on,
and ever your majesty's happy years of reign :
and they that reckon upon any other hopes, I would
they might reckon short, and to their cost. And
so, craving pardon most humbly, I commend your
majesty to the preservation of the Divine goodness.
TO THE QUEEN.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
I most humbly entreat your majesty not to
impute my absence to any weakness of mind or
unworthiness. But I assure your majesty I do
find envy beating so strongly upon me, standing
as I do, (if this be to stand,) as it were not strength
of mind, but stupidity, if 1 should not decline the
occasions, except I could do your majesty more
service than I can any ways discern that I am
able to do. My course towards your majesty
(God is my witness) hath been pure and unlea-
vened ; and never poor gentleman (as I am per-
suaded) had a deeper and truer desire and care of
your glory, your safety, your repose of mind,
your service; wherein if I have exceeded my out-
ward vocation, I most humbly crave your ma-
jesty's pardon for my presumption. On the other
side, if I have come short of my inward vocation,
I most humbly crave God's pardon for quenching
the spirit. But in this mind I find such solitude,
and want of comfort, which I judge to be because
I take duty too exactly, and not according to the
dregs of this age, wherein the old anthem might
never be more truly sung; "Totus mundus in
maligno positus est." My life hath been threat-
ened, and my name libelled, which I count an
honour ; but these are the practices of those whose
despairs are dangerous, but yet not so dangerous
as their hopes ; or else the devices of some that
would put out all your majesty's lights, and fall
on reckoning how many years you have reisrned,
which I beseech our blessed Saviour may be
doubled : and that I may never live to see any
eclipse of your glory, interruption of safety, or
indisposition of your person, which I commend to
Ihe Divine Majesty, who keep you and fortify you.
TO MY LORD HEN. HOWARD.
My Lord, — ^There be very few besides yourself
to whom I would perform this respect ; for I con-
temn •' mendacia famae," as it walks among in-
ffriors ; though I neglect it not, as it may have
entrance into some ears. For your lordship'g
love, rooted u[)on good opinion, I esteem it highly
because I have tasted the fruits of it ; and we both
have lasted of tlie best waters, in my account, to
knit minds together. There is shaped a tale in
London's forge that beateth apace at this time;
that I should deliver opinion to the queen in my
Lord of Essex's cause; first, that it was pre-
munire, and now last, that it was high treason;
and this opinion to be in opposition and encounter
of the lord chief justice's opinion, and the at-
torney-general's. My lord, (I thank God,) my
wit serveth me not to deliver any opinion to the
queen which my stomach serveth me not to main-
tain : one and the same conscience of duty guiding
me, and fortifying me. But the untruth of this
fable God and my sovereign can witness, and
there I leave it : knowing no more remedy against
lies than others do against libels. The root, no
question of it, is, partly, some light-headed envy
at my accesses to her majesty, which being begun
and continued since my childhood, as long as her
majesty shall think me worthy of them, I scorn
those that shall think the contrary. And another
reason is, the aspersion of this tale, and the envy
thereof, upon some greater man, in regard of my
nearness. And, therefore, (my lord,) I pray you
answer for me to any person that you think worthy
your own reply, and my defence. For my Lord
of Essex, I am not servile to him, having regard
to my superior's duty. I have been much bound
unto him ; and, on the other side, I have spent
more time and more thoughts about his well-
doing than ever I did about mine own. I pray
God you his friends amongst you be in the right.
" Nulla remedia, tam faciunt dolorem. quam quie
sunt salutaria." For my part, I have deserved
better than to have my name objected to envy, or
my life to a ruffian's violence; but I have the
privy coat of a good conscience. I am sure these
courses and bruits hurt my lord more than all.
So having written to your lordship, I desire ex-
ceedingly to be preferred in your good opinion
and love, and so leave you to God's goodness.
THE EARL OF ESSEX'S LETTER TO THE COUNCIL,
AT HIS EMBARKING FOR SPAIN. JUNE, 1596.
My very good Lords,
Having taken order for all things that belong
to our land forces, and staying only till the ships
be ready to take in our soldiers, I am come aboard,
as well to draw other men by my example to leave
the shore, as to have time and leisure to ask ac-
count of myself what other duty I have to do,
besides the governing of those troops, and the
using of them to good purpose. In which medi-
tation, as I first study to please my most gracious
sovereign, as well as to serve her ; so my nexJ
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
5T
pare is, to leave your lordships well satisfied of my
past carriage since I was nominated to this service ;
and apt to make favourable construction of what
I shall do hereafter.
In my past carriage I will neither plead merit
nor excuse imperfections : for whatsoever I shall
be able to do, I know, is less than I owe ; and
besides my faults, my very faith and zeal (which
are the best things in me) do make me commit '
errors. But I would fain approve the matter
itself of undertaking this service to have been
good, howsoever my former have been erroneous ;
or at least, my intent and ends unblameable,
though my judgment were faulty. "Y our lordships
know it hath been the wisdom of all times rather
to attempt and do something in another country
than to attend an enemy, and be in danger much
in our own. And if this rule among the ancients
was generally held true, it might be better allowed
of us in particular cases, where a state little in
territory, not extraordinary rich, and defended
only with itself, shall have to do with another
state that hath many and ample dominions, the
treasure of the Indies, and all the mercenaries of
Christendom to serve it. For we have, as the
Athenians had with the ancient usurping Philip ;
"praehum facile, helium difficile." Therefore, it
is our disadvantage to draw the war into length.
And if any man in this kingdom should be allowed
to persuade to prevention, he might be one that
saw the Spaniard at home apprehend an invasion
with greater terror than he makes it abroad: and
that was a witness how a handful of men, nei-
ther armed, victualled, nor ordered as they should
be, landed, marched, and had done what they
listed, if either the ships had come up, or thi-y
had any provisions to make a hole in a wall or to
break open a gate. But though the counsel be
good for some states, and for ours at some times,
yet the opportunities ought to be watched, and it
must appear that this it is which is now taken.
The opportunity for such service I take to be when
either the enemy may receive the most hurt, or
when he is likeliest to attempt against us, if he
be not impeached. The hurt that our estate should
seek to do him is, to intercept his treasure, whereby
we shall cut his sinews, and make war upon him
with his own money ; and to beat, or at least dis-
continue him from the sea, whereby her majesty
shall be both secured from his invasions, and
become mistress of the sea ; which is the great-
ness that the queen of an island should most
aspire unto. In matter of profit we may this
journey most hurt him, and benefit ourselves;
since he hath (as is agreed on by all men) more
caracks to come home now than ever any year
before. Besides many good advantages which
shall be offered if we command the coast. And
lo give him a blow, and discountenance him by
fiea, now is the time, when he hath declared his
ambition to command the seas ; and yet, so
Vol. Ill 8
divided his fleets : some appointed to be set out,
and yet scant in readiness ; others upon point of
coming home, and not fit to defend ihemselves,
if either they be met at sea, or found in harbour;
and all so dispersed in several places, as if at any
time we might do good that way, it is now. And
whether he will make war upon us, if we let him
alone : let his solicitations, offers, and gifts to the
rebels of Ireland ; his besieging and winning of
Calais, and those parts of France that front upon
us; and his strengthening himself by sea by so
many means ; let these things (I say) tell us.
So, as if we will at any time allow the counsel
of prevention to be reasonable, we must now con-
fess it to be opportune. But whatsoever the
counsel were, I am not to be charged with it.
For as I was not the contriver, nor offerer of the
project, so if I had refused to join with him
(that did invite me to it,) I should have been
thought both incompatible and backward in her
majesty's service. I say not this, for that I think
the action such as it were disadvantage to be
thought the projector of it ; but I say, and say
truly, that my lord admiral devised it, presented
it to her majesty, and had as well the approba-
tion of her majesty and the assent of such of your
lordships as were acquainted with it, as my pro-
mise to go with him. One thing (I confess) I
above all men am to be charged withal : that is,
that when her majesty's, the city of London's, and
the states of the Low Countries' charge was past,
the men levied and marching to the rendezvous ;
I could not see how with her majesty's honour
and safety the journey might be broken. Where-
in, although I should be carried with passion, yet
I pray your lordships consider who almost that had
been in my case named to such an action, voiced
throughout Christendom, and engaged in it as
much as I was worth ; and being the instrument
of drawing more voluntary men of their own '
charge than ever was seen these many years:
who (I say) would not have been so affected ?
But far be it from me, in any action of this im-
portance to weigh myself or my particular for-
tunes. I must beseech your lordships to remem-
ber that I was from time to time warranted by all
your opinions, delivered both amongst yourselves
and to her majesty : which tieth you all to allow
the counsel. And that being granted, your lord-
ships will call that zeal, which maketh a man
constant in a good counsel, that would be passion
in an evil, or a doubtful. I confess, her majesty
oflTered us recompense for all our charges and
losses. But (my lords) I pray your lordships
consider how many things I should have sold at
once for money ? I will leave mine own reputa-
tion as too small a matter to be mentioned. But
I should have sold the honour of her majesty, the
safety of the state, the contentment of her con-
federates, the fortune and hope of many of my
poor countrymenv and the possibility of giving^ a
58
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
blow to that enemy that ought ever to be hateful
to all true English hearts. I should have sold
all this for private profit; therefore, though I ask
pardon of her majesty, and pray your lordships
to mediate it for me, that I was carried by this
zeal so fast that 1 forgot those reverend forms
which I should have used, yet I had rather have
my heart out of my body than this zeal out of my
heart. And now, as I have laid before your
lordships my past carriage, and entering into this
action, so 1 beseech your lordships give me leave
to prepare you to a favourable construction of
that which I shall do hereafter; in which suit I
am resolved neither to plead the hazarding of
life, nor spending of my substance in a public
service ; to the end that I might find your lord-
ships (who are public persons) more favourable
judges: but will confess, that I receive so much
favour and honour by this trust and employment,
as, when I have done all I can, I shall still be
behindhand. This suit only I make, that your
lordships will neither have too great an expecta-
tion of our actions, nor too little, lest all we do
seem either nothing, or to be done by chance. I
know we must be tied to do more than shall be
for her majesty's service, nor no less ; in which
straight way, though it be hard for so weak a
man as myself to walk upright, yet the example
of our raw soldiers may comfort an insufficient
general ; for they, till they grow perfect in all
their orders and motions, are so afraid to be out,
and with such a continual heedfulness, observe
both themselves and those that are near them,
that they do keep almost as good order at the first
as ever after. I am sure I am as distrustful of
myself as they, and because I have more sense
of duly, 1 shall be more industrious. For sea-
service, the judgment of my honourable compa-
nion shall be my compass; and for land, his
assent, and the advice of those her majesty hath
named as counsellors at war shall be my war-
ranties. It will be honour to her majesty, and a
great assurance to her state, if we either bring
home wealth or give the King of Spain a blow by
sea. But to have made a continual diversion,
and to have left, as it were, a thorn sticking
in his foot, had been a work worthy of such a
queen, and of such a preparation. For then her
majesty should have heard no more of his inten-
tions for Ireland, and attempts upon the coast of
France, or his drawing of ships or galleys into
these narrow seas, but should at once have deliver-
ed all Christendom from his fearful usurpation.
Wherein, as she had been great in fame for such
H general preservation, so she had been as great
in power in making all the enemies of Spain in
Ctiristendom to depend upon her. She should
he head of the party; she only might be said to
make the wars with Spain, because she made
them to purpose, and they all but as her assistants
and dependants. \nd, lastly, as the end of the
wars is peace, so she might have had peace when
she would, and with what conditions she would,
and have included or left out whom she would.
For, she only, by this course, should force hi..i.
to wish for peace, and she had the means in her
hands to make the conditions : and as easy it had
been to have done this as to have performed
lesser services. The objections against this will
be hazard and charge. Hazard, to hold any
thing of his that is so mighty a king: and
charge, to send such supplies from time to time
as will be needful. For hazard, it is not the
hazard of the state or the whole, as are the
hazards of a defensive war, whensoever we are
enforced to fight, but it is only a hazard of some
few, and such commanders, as shall be set out
for such a service. And those also that shall be
so hazarded, shall be in less danger than if they
were put into any frontier places of France,
or of the Low Countries, for they should not be
left in any part of the main or continent of Spain
or Portugal, where the enemy might bring an
army to attempt them ; (though I doubt not but
after he had once tried what it were to besiege
two or three thousand English, in a place M'ell
fortified, and where they had a port open, he
would grow quickly weary of those attempts ;)
but they should be so lodged as the seat and
strength of the place should warrant their safttv,
so that to pull her majesty's men out of it snould
be a harder task than to conquer any countrj' that
stands on firm land by him: and to let English
quietly possess it, should so much prejudice him,
as he were not able to endure it. And, for
charge, there need not so much be expended but
that it might easily be borne. And the place
being well chosen, and the war well conducted,
in a short time there would not only arise
enough to pay the charge, but the great pfotit to
her majesty, and wealth to our country would
grow from the place that should be held, for in a
short time a great part of the golden Indian
stream might be turned from Spain to England,
and her majesty be made to give law to all the
world by sea without her charge. Besides, this
fearful enemy, which is now a terror to all Chris-
tendom, should be so weakened in strength, re-
putation, and purse, as her majesty should forever
after have an easy enemy of him. It may be,
your lordships will desire to know the place
that should be attempted ; the means, first to take
it, then to hold it; the commodity or advantage
that might grow to this estate by it, but that
with your lordships' leave shall be reserved till
my next. This is only to beseech you, for our
dear sovereign's sake, for the glory and welfare
of her, and her estate, that you will think upon
this general proposition; and if your lordships
find it reasonable, that you will move it to the
queen; by whom if I be commanded to set d.)wn
the hypothesis, or to descend unto particulars, 1
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
59
will offer my project with this condition, that if I
advise any thing that the council of war shall
think dangerous, it may be rejected; or if myself
be actor in any thing belonging to this project,
wherein her majesty receives dishonour, that I
may answer it with my life. And yet your
lordships know 1 am matched with those in
whom I have no particular interest; but I must
attribute their assenting to me, to my good hap,
to take the better part. In my lord with whom I
joined, I find so much honour and service, as
1 doubt not but our unity in affection will m.ake
a unity in council, action, and government. I
have troubled your lordships with a tedious letter,
begun in a day of leisure, and finished in the
midst of our troublesome business. I pray your
lordships pardon the errors in it, and keep so
honourable opinion of me as I be not condemned
by you upon any complaints, advertisements, or
reports, till I have given answer to them. For
as the nature of my place is subject to envy and
detraction, so a little body full of sharp humours
is hardest kept in temper; and all the discontent-
ed humours of an army do make their greatest
quarrel to him that commands the army, not so
much for his faults as for because he bridles
their's. And so commending your good lordships
to God's divine protection, I rest
At your lordships' commandment,
Robert Essex.
TO MY LORD OF ESSEX, FROM MR. DACON.
My singular good Lord,
I will no longer dissever part of that, which I
meant to have said to your lordship at Barnhelmes,
from the exordium, which I then made. Where-
unto I will only add this; that I humbly desire
your lordship before you give access to my poor
advice, to look about, even jealously a little, if
you will, and to consider : First, whether 1 have
not reason to think that your fortune comprehend-
eth mine: Next, whether I shift my counsel and
do not " constare mihi ;" for I am persuaded there
are some would give you the same counsel now,
which I shall, but that they should derogate from
that which they have said heretofore: Thirdly,
whether you have taken hurt at any time by my
careful and devoted counsel. For although I
remember well your lordship once told me that
you having submitted upon my well-meant motion
at Nonsuch, (the place where you renewed a
treaty with her majesty of obsequious kindness,)
she had taken advantage of it; yet I suppose you
do since believe, that it did much attemper a cold
malignant humour then growing upon her majesty
toward your lordship, and hath done you good in
consequence. And for being against it, now
lately, that you should not estrange yourself,
although I give pla^e to none in true gratulation.
yet neither do I repent me of safe counsel ; neither
do I judge of the whole play by the first act. Ilnl
whether I counsel you the best, or for the best,
duty bindeth me to offer to you my wishes. I
said to your lordship last time ; " Martha, Martha,
attendis ad plurima, unum sufficit." Win the
queen ; if this be not the beginning, of any other
course I see no end. And I will not now speak
of favour of affection, but of other correspondence
and agreeableness, which, whensoever it shall be
conjoined with the other of affection, I durst
wager my life (let them make what prosopopaeus
they will of her majesty's nature) that in you she
will come to the question of "quid fiet hornini,
quem rex vult honorarel" But how is it now 1
A man of a nature not to be ruled, that hatii the
advantage of my affection and knoweth it, of an
estate not grounded to his greatness, of a popular
reputation, of a military dependence : I demand
whether there can be a more dangerous image
than this represented to any monarch living, much
more to a lady, and of her majesty's apprehension 1
And is it not more evident than demonstration
itself, that whilst this impression continueth in her
majesty's breast, you can find no other condition
than inventions to keep your estate bare and low ;
crossing and disgracing your actions, extenuating
and blasting of your merit, carping with contempt
at your nature and fashions ; breeding, nourishing,
and fortifying such instruments as are most
factious against you, repulses and scorns of your
friends and dependants that are true and steadfast,
winning and inveigling away from you such as
are flexible and wavering, thrusting you into
odious employments and offices to supplant your
reputation, abusing you, and feeding you with
dalliances and demonstrations, to divert you from
descending into the serious consideration of your
own case ; yea, and percase venturing you in
perilous and desperate enterprises. Herein it
may please your lordship to understand me; for I
mean nothing less than that these things should be
plotted and intended as in her majesty's royal
mind towards you; I know the excellency of hei
nature too well. But I say, wheresoever the for-
merly described impression is taken in any king's
breast towards a subject, these other recited in-
conveniences must of necessity of politic conse-
quences follow; in respect of such instruments
as are never failing about princes, which spy into
their humours and conceits, and second them ;
and not only second them, but in seconding
increase them; yea, and many times without their
knowledge pursue them further than themsehes
would. Your lordship will ask the question
wherewith the Athenians were wont to interrupt
their orators when they exaggerated their dangers ;
"quid igitur agendum estl"
I will tell your lordship, "quae mihi nunc :ii
mentum veniunt;" supposing, nevertheless, that
yourself, out of your own wisdom upon the c;ise
60
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
with this plainness and liberty represented to you,
will lind out better expedients and remedies. I
wish a cure applied to every of the five former
impressions, which I will take not in order, but as
I think they are of weight.
For the removing the impression of your nature
to be opiniatre and not ruleable; first, and above
all tilings I wish that all matters past, which can-
not be revoked, your lordship would turn alto-
gether upon insatisfaction, and not upon your
nature or proper disposition. This string you
cannot upon every apt occasion harp upon too
much. Next, whereas I have noted you to fly
and avoid (in some respect justly) the resem-
blance or imitation of my Lord of Leicester and
my Lord Chancellor Hatton ; yet I am persuaded
(howsoever I wish your lordship as distant as you
are from them in points of favour, integrity,
magnanimity and merit,) that it will do you much
good between the queen and you to allege them
(as oft as you find occasion) for authors and
patterns. For I do not know a readier mean to
make her majesty think you are in your right way.
Thirdly, when at any time your lordship upon
occasion happen in speeches to do her majesty
right, (for there is no such matter as flattery
amongst you all,) I fear you handle it, "magis in
speciem adornatis verbis, quam ut sentire videaris."
So that a man may read formality in your coun-
tenance; whereas your lordship should do it
familiarly, "et orations fida." Fourthly, your
lordship should never be without some particulars
afoot, which you should seem to pursue with
earnestness and affection ; and then let them fall
upon taking knowledge of her majesty's opposition
and dislike. Of which the weightiest sort may
be if your lordship offer to labour in the behalf of
some that you favour for some of the places now
void ; choosing such a subject as you think her
majesty is like to oppose unto: and if you will
say, that this is "Conjunctum cumalienfiinjuriJi;"
I will not answer, " heec non aliter constabunt ;"
but I say, commendation from so good a mouth
doth not hurt a man, though you prevail not. A
less weighty sort of particulars may be the pre-
tence of some journeys which at her majesty's
request your lordship might relinquish ; as if you
would pretend a journey to see your living and
estate towards Wales or the like ; for as for great
foreign journeys of employment and service, it
standeth not with your gravity to play or stratagem
with them. And the lightest sort of particulars,
which yet are not to be neglected, are in your
hal)its, apparel, wearings, gestures, and the like.
The impression of greatest prejudice next, is
that of a military dependence. Wherein 1 can-
not sufficiently wonder at your lordship's course,
that you say, the wars are your occupation, and
fTd in that course ; whereas, if I might have ad-
vised your lordship, you should have left that
|ierson at Plymouth ; more than when in counsel
or in commending fit persons foi service for wars
it had been in season. And here, my lord, I
pray mistake me not. I am not to play now the
part of a gown-man, that would frame you best to
mine own turn. 1 know what I owe you : I am
infinitely glad of this last journey, now it is past:
the rather, because you may make so honourable
a full point for a time. You have property good
enough in that greatness. There is none can of
many years ascend near you in competition. Be-
sides, the disposing of the places and affairs both
concerning the wars (you increasing in other
greatness) will of themselves flow to you; which
will preserve that dependence in full measure. It
is a thing that of all things I would have you
retain, the times considered. And the necessity
of the service, for other reason I know none.
But, I say, keep it in substance, but abolish it in
shows to the queen. For her majesty loveth
peace. Next, she loveth not charge. Thirdly,
that kind of dependence maketh a suspected
greatness. Therefore, " Quod instat agamus."
Let that be a sleeping honour a while, and cure
the queen's mind on that point. Therefore, again,
whereas I heard your lordship designing to your-
self the earl marshal's place, or place of master
of the ordnance, I did not in my mind so well
like of either; because of their affinity with a
martial greatness. But of the places now void, in
my judgment and discretion, 1 would name you
to the place of lord privy seal. For, first, it is the
third person of the great oflicers of the crown.
Next, it hath a kind of superintendence over the
secretary. It hath also an affinity with the court
of wards, in regard of the fees from the liveries.
And it is a fine honour, quiet place, and worth a
thousand pounds by year. And my lord admi-
ral's father had it, who was a martial man. And
it fits a favourite to carry her majesty's image in
seal, who beareth it best expressed in heart.
But my chief reason is, that which I first alleged,
to divert her majesty from this impression of a
j martial greatness. In concurrence whereof, if
j your lordship shall not remit any thing of your
i formerdiligenceat the Star Chamber; if you shall
continue such intelligences as are worth the
cherishing; if you shall pretend to be as bookish
and contemplative as ever you were; all these
courses have both their advantages and uses in
themselves otherwise, and serve exceeding aptly
to this purpose. Whereunto I add one expedient
more stronger than all the rest; and for mine
own confident opinion, void of any prejudice or
danger of diminution of your greatness; and that
is, the bringing in of some martial man to be of
the council, dealing directly with her majesty in
it, as for her service and your better assistance;
choosing, nevertheless, some person that may be
known net to come in against you by any former
division. I judge the fittest to be my Lord
Mountjoy, or my Lord Willoughby. And if
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
61
youT lordship see deep.ier into it than I do, that
you would not have it done in efFect, yet, in my
opinion, you may serve your turn by the pretence
of it, and stay it nevertheless.
The third impression is of a popular reputa-
tion; which, because it is a thing good in itself,
being obtained as your lordship obtaineth it, that
is, "bonis artibus," and besides well governed,
is one of the flowers of your greatness both pre-
sent and to come; it would be handled tenderly.
The only way is, to quench it verl)is and not
rebus; and therefore to take all occasions to the
queen, to speak against popularity and popular
courses vehemently, and to tax it in all others :
but, nevertheless, to go on in your honourable
commonwealth courses as you do. And, there-
fore, I will not advise you to cure this by dealing
in monopolies or any oppressions. Only if in
parliament your lordship be forward for treasure
in respect to the wars, it becometh your person
well. And if her majesty object popularity to
you at any time, I would say to her, a parliament
will show that, and so feed her with expectation.
The fourth impression of the inequality be-
tween your estate of means and your greatness
of respects, is not to be neglected ; for, believe it,
my lord, that till her majesty find you careful of
your estate, she will not only think you more
like to continue chargeable to her, but also have
a conceit that you have higher imaginations.
The remedies are, first, to profess it in all speeches
to her; next, in such suits wherein both honour,
gift, and profit may be taken to communicate
freely with her majesty, by way of inducing her
to grant that it will be this benefit to you. Last-
ly, to be plain with your lordship, for the gentle-
men are such as I am beholding to, nothing can
make the queen or the world think so much that
you are come to a provident care of your estate
as the altering of some of your officers; who
though they be as true to you as one hand to the
other, yet, "opinio veritate major." But if, in
respect of the bonds, they may be entered into
for your lordship, you cannot so well dismiss
yourself of them, this cannot be done but with
time.
For the fifth and last, which is of the advantage
of a favourite, as severed from the rest it cannot
hurt; so joined with them it maketh her majesty
more fearful and shadowy, as not knowing her
own strength. The only remedy to this is, to
give way to some other favourite, as in particular
you shall find her majesty inclined, so as the
subject hath no ill, nor dangerous aspect towards
yourself; for, otherwise, whosoever shall tell me [
that you may not have singular use of a favourite j
at your devotion, I will say he understandeth not
the queen's affection, nor your lordship's condi-
tion. And so, I rest.
October 4, 1596
TO SIR ROBERT CECII„
Sir, — 1 forbear not to put in paper as much a»
I thought to have spoken to your honour to-day,
if I could have stayed, knowing that if youi
honour should make other use of it than is due to
good meaning, and then I am persuaded you will ;
yet to persons of judgment, and that know me
otherwise, it will rather appear (as it is) a pre-
cise honesty, and this same, " suum cuique tri
buere," than any hollowness to any. It is my
luck still to be akin to such things as I neither
like in nature, nor would willingly meet with in
my course, but yet cannot avoid, without show of
base timorousness, or else of unkind, or suspi-
cious strangeness.
Some hiatus in the copy.
And I am of one spirit still. I ever liked the
Galenists that deal with good compositions, and
not the Paracelsians, that deal with these fine
separations : and in music, I ever loved easy airs,
that go full all the parts together; and not those
strange points of accord and discord. This I
write not, I assure your honour officiously, except
it be according to Tully's offices, that is, honestly
and morally. For though, I thank God, I ac-
count upon the proceeding in the queen's service,
or not proceeding both ways, and therefore neither
mean to fawn or retire, yet I naturally desire good
opinion with any person which for fortune or
spirit is to be regarded, much more with a secre-
tary of the queen's, and a cousin-german, and one
with whom I have ever thought myself to have
some sympathy of nature, though accidents have
not suffered it to appear. Thus not doubting of
your honourable interpretation and usage of that
I have written, 1 commend you to the Divine pre-
servation. From Gray's Inn.
TO MY LORD OF ESSEX.
It may please your good Lordship,
I pray God her maj' sty's weighing be not like
the weight of a balance, " gravia deorsum, levia
sursum." But I am as far from being altered in
devotion towards her as I am from distrust that
she will be altered in opinion towards me when
she knoweth me better. For myself, I have lost
some opinion, some time, and some means; this
is my account: but then for opinion it is a blast
that goeth and cometh ; for time, it is true, /t
goeth and cometh not ; but yet I have learned
that it may be redeemed.
For means, I value that most; and the rather,
because I am purposed not to fiillow the practice
of the law: if her majesty command me in any
particular, I shall be ready to do her willing ser-
vice; and my reason is only because it drinketh
too much time, which I have dedicated to better
purposes. But, even for that point of estate and
F
62
LETTERS FROM THE RESUSCITATIO.
means, I partly lean to Thales' opinion, " that a facta placebunt :" be it so, yet remember, tha
pliilosopher may be rich if he will." Thus your the signing of your name is nothing unless it be
lordship seeth how I comfort myself; to the in- j to some good patent or charter, whereby youi
crease whereof I would fain please myself to ' country may be endowed with good and benefit;
believe that to be true which my lord treasurer
writeth, wnich is, that it is more than a philoso-
])her morally can digest; but without any such
high conceit, I esteem it like the pulling out of
an aching tooth, which I remember when I was
a child, and had little philosophy, I was glad of
when it was done. For your lordship, I do think
myself more beholding to you than to any man ;
and I say, I reckon myself as a common, (not po-
pular but common,) and as much as is lawful to
be enclosed as a common, so much your lordship
shall be sure to have.
Your lordship's to obey your honourable
commands more settled than ever.
which I speak both to move you to preserve your
person, for further merit and service of her
majesty and your country, and likewise to refer
this action to the same end. And so, in most
true and fervent prayers, I commend youi lord-
ship, and your work in hand, to the preservation
and conduct of the Divine Majesty ; so much the
more watchful, as these actions do more mani-
festly in show, though alike in truth, depend
upon his Divine providence.
TO MY LORD OF ESSEX
Mv SINGULAR GOOD LoRD,
Your lordship's so honourable minding my poor
fortune the last year in the very entrance into
that great action, (which is a time of less leisure,)
and in so liberal an allowance of your care as to
write three letters to stir me up friends in your
absence ; doth, after a sort, warrant me not to
object to myself your present quantity of affairs,
whereby to silence myself from petition of the
like favour. I brake with your lordship myself
at the Tower, and I take it my brother hath since
renewed the same motion touching a fortune I
was in thought to attempt " in genere economi-
co." " In genere politico," certain cross winds
have blown contrary. My suit to your lordship
is for your several letters to be left with me dor-
mant, to the gentlewoman, and either of the
parents ; wherein I do not doubt but as the
beams of your favour have often dissolved the
coldness of my fortune, so in this argument your
lordship will do the like with your pen. My
desire is also, that your lordship would vouchsafe
unto me, as out of your care, a general letter to
my lord keeper for his lordship's holding me,
from you recommended, both in the course of
my practice, and in the course of my employment
in her majesty's service. Wherein, if your lord-
ship shall in any antithesis or relation, affirm that
Ills lordship shall have no less hope of me than
of any other whom he may cherish, I hope your
lordship shall engage yourself for no impossibi-
lity. Lastly and chiefly, I know not whether I
shall attain to see your lordship before your noble
journey; for ceremonies are things infinitely
inferio' to my love and to my zeal ; this let me,
with your allowance, say unto you by pen. It is
true that, in my well meaning advices, out of my
lOve to your lordship, and perhaps out of the state
of mine own mind, 1 have sometimes persuaded
& course differing : •' ac tibi pro tutis insignia
TO lAIY LORD OF CANTERBURY.
It may please your Grace,
I have considered the objections, perused the
statutes, and framed the alterations, which I
send, still keeping myself within the brevity
of a letter and form of a narration, not entering
into a form of argument or disputation; for, in
my poor conceit, it is somewhat against the
majesty of princes' actions to make too curious
and striving apologies; but rather to set them
forth plainly, and so as there may appear an
harmony and constancy in them, so that one part
upholdeth another. And so I wish your grace
all prosperity. From my poor lodging, this, etc
Your grace's most dutiful
pupil and servant.
TO MY LORD OF ESSEX.
My singular good Lord,
The message it pleased your lordship to send
me was to me delivered doubtfully ; whether
your lordship said you Avould speak with me at
the Star Chamber or with Mr. Philip. If with
me, it is needless, for gratitude imposeth upon
me satisfaction ; if with Mr. Philip, it will be too
late, because somewhat must, perchance, be done
that da3^ This doubt not solved, maketh me
write again; the rather, because I did liberally,
but yet privately affirm, your lordship would
write ; which, if I make not good, it may be a
discouragement. Your lordship's letter, though
it have the subject of honour and justice, yet it
shall have the secrecy of a thing done upon affec-
tion. I shall ever, in a firm duty, submit my
occasions, though great, to your lordship's
respects, though small ; and this is my resolu-
tion, that when your lordship doth for me, you
shall increase my obligation; when you refuse to
do for me, you shall increase my merit. So,
leaving the matter wholly to your lordship's
pleasure, I commend your lordship to the preser-
vation of the Divine Majesty. From Gray's Inn
Your lordship's ever most humbly bounden.
LETTERS FROM THE BACONIANA.
TRANSLATION OF THE ANSWER OF THE LORD
BACON, THEN ATTORNEY-GENERAL, TO THE
UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE, WHEN HE WAS
in heaven. It was at a time when the great deso-
lation of the plague was in the city, and when
mvself was ill of a danererous and tedious sick-
SWORN OF THE PRIVY COUNCIL TO THE KING- '"J^*^" ^, ' .. . t r a l ♦•
I ness. The first time that I found any degree ot
Your letters were very acceptable to me; and j health, nothing came sooner to my mind than to
I give myself joy, upon your congratulation. '
The thing itself will (I suppose) conduce to my
honour and satisfaction, if I remain in the mind I
now am in ; by unwearied study, and perpetual
watchfulness, and pure affection, to promote the
public good. Now, among the parts of the com-
monwealth, there are none dearer to me than the
universities and learning. And this, my manner
of life hitherto, and my writings do both declare.
If, therefore, any good fortune befalls me, you
may look upon it as an accession to yourselves.
Neither are you to believe, that my patronage is
either quite removed from you, or so much as
diminished. For that part of an advocate which
concerneth the giving of counsel in causes
mmaineth entire. Also, (if any thing more
weighty and urgent falleth out,) the very office
of pleading (the king's leave being obtained) is
still allowed me. And whatsoever shall be
found wanting in my juridical patronage will be
compensated by my more ample authority. My
wishes are, that as I am translated from the
business of private men and particular clients, to
the government of the commonwealth ; so the
latter part of my age (if my life be continued to
me) may, from tiie public cares, be translated to
leisure and study.
Also, this thought comes often into my mind,
amidst so many businesses and of such moment,
every year to lay aside some days to think on
you : that so, having the greater insight into
your matters, I may the better consult your
advantage.
Your most faithful and kind friend,
Fr. Bacon.
July the 5tli, 1616.
acknowledge your majesty's great favour by my
most humble thanks. And because I see yovir ma-
jesty taketh delight in my writings, and, to say
truth, they ar<^ the best fruits I now yield, I presume
to send your majesty a little discourse of mine,
touching a war with Spain, which I writ about
two years since, which the king, your brother,
liked well. It is written without bitterness or
invective, as kings' affairs ought to be carried :
but, if I be not deceived, it hath edge enough. I
have yet some spirits left, and remnant of expe-
rience, which I consecrate to the king's service
and your majesty's; for whom I pour out my daily
prayers to God, that he would give your majesty
a fortune worthy your rare virtues ; which somo
good spirit tells me will be in the end. I do in
all reverence kiss your majesty's hands, evei
resting
Your majesty's most humble
and devoted servant,
Francis St. Alban.
THE LORD CHANCELLOR BACON'S LETTER TO
TIIE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA," IN ANSWER TO ONE
FROM HER MAJESTY, AND UPON SENDING TO
HER HIS BOOK ABOUT A WAR WITH SPAIN.
[r MAY PLEASE YOUR MaJESTY,
I have received your majesty's gracious letter
from Mr. Secretary Morton, who is now a saint
TRANSLATION OF A LETTER OF TIIE LORD BA-
CON'S TO THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE
UPON HIS SENDING TO THEIR PUBLIC LIBRARY.
HIS BOOK OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING.
Francis, Baron of Verulam, and Viscount of St.
Albans, to the Indulgent Mother, the famous
University of Cambridge, health.
T HERE repay you, according to my ability, the
debts of a son. I exhort you, also, to do the same
thing with myself: that is, to bend your whole
might towards the advancement of the sciences,
and to retain freedom of thought, together with
humility of mind ; and not to suffer the talent
which the ancients have deposited with you, to
lie dead in a napkin. Doubtless, the favour of
the Divine light will be present and shine amongst
you, if, philosophy being submitted to religion,
you lawfully and dexterously use the keys of
sense ; and if, all study of opposition being laid
aside, every one of you so dispute with another
as if he were arguing with himself. Faro ye
welL
63
64
LETTERS FROM THE BACOxNIANA.
TRANSLATION OF A LETTER OF THE LORD BA-
CON'S TO THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBKIUGE,
UPON HIS SENDING TO THEIR PUBLIC LIBRARY
HIS NOVUM ORGANUM.
Seeing I am yoi r bon, and your disciple, it
will much please me to repose in your bosom the
issue which I have lately brought forth into the
world ; for, otherwise, I should look upon it as an
exposed child. Let it not trouble you that the
way in which I go is new : such things will, of
necessity, happen in the revolutions of several
ages. However, the honour of the ancients is
secured : that, I mean, which is due to their wit.
For, faith is only due to the word of God, and to
experience. Now, for bringing back the sciences
to experience is not a thing to be done : but to
raise them anew from experience, is indeed a very
difficult and laborious, but not a hopeless under-
taking. God prosper you and your studies.
Your most loving son,
Francis Verulam, Chancel.
TRANSLATION OF A LETTER OF THE LORD BA-
CON'S, V^-RITTEN TO TRINITY COLLEGE, IN CAM-
BRIDGE, UPON HIS SENDING TO THEM HIS BOOK
OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING.
Francis, Baron of Verulam, Viscount of St. Al-
bans, to the most famous College of the Holy
and Undivided Trinity in Cambridge, health.
The progress of things, together with them-
selves, are to be ascribed to their originals.
Wherefore, seeing I have derived from your foun-
tains my first beginnings in the sciences, I thought
fit to repay to you the increases of them. I hope,
also, it may so happen that these things of ours
may the more prosperously thrive among you,
being replanted in their native soil. Therefore, I
likewise exhort you that ye yourselves, so far as
is consistent with all due modesty and reverence
to the ancients, be not wanting to the advance-
ment of the sciences : but that, next to the study
of those sacred volumes of God, the holy Scrip-
tures, ye turn over that great volume of the works
of God, his creatures, with the utmost diligence,
and before all other books, which ought to be
looked on only as commentaries on those texts.
Farewell
THE LORD CHANCELLOR BACON'S LETTER TO
DR. WILLIAMS, THEN LORD BISHOP OF LINCOLN,
CONCERNING HIS SPEECHES, &c.
My VERY GOOD Lord,
1 am much bound to your lordship for your
honourable promise to Dr. Rawley. He chooseth
rather to depend upon the same in general than to
pitch UDon any particular; which modesty of
choice I commend.
I find that the ancients (as Cicero, Demosthenes,
Plinius Seen nd us, and others) have preserved
both their orations and their epistles. In imitation
of whom, I have done the like to my own, which,
nevertheless, I will not publish while I live ; but
I have been bold to bequeath them to your lord-
ship, and Mr. Chancellor of the Duchy. My
speeches, perhaps, you will think fit to publish.
The letters, many of them, touch too much upon
late matters of state to be published ; yet, I
was willing they should not be lost. I have,
also, by my will, erected two lectures in perpe-
tuity, in either university; one with an endow-
ment of £200 per annum, apiece. They are to
be for natural philosophy, and the sciences there-
upon depending; which foundations 1 have re-
quired my executors to order by the advice and
direction of your lordship, and my Lord Bishop
of Coventry and Litchfield. These be my thoughts
now. I rest
Your lordship' s most
aifectionate to do you service.
A LETTER WRITTEN IN LATIN BY THE LORD
VERULAM, TO FATHER FULGENTIO, THE VENE-
tian, concerning his writings; and now
translated into english by the publisher.
Most reverend Father,
I must confess myself to be a letter in your
debt ; but the excuse which I have, is too, too
just. For I was kept from doing you right by
a very sore disease, from which I am not yet per-
fectly delivered.
I am now desirous to communicate to your
fatherhood the designs I have touching those
writings which I form in my head, and begin;
not with hope of bringing them to perfection, but
out of desire to make experiment, and because I
am a servant to posterity ; for these things require
some ages for the ripening of them.
I judged it most convenient to have them trans-
lated in the Latin tongue, and to divide them into
certain tomes.
The first tome consisteth of the books of the
Advancement of Learning, which, as you under-
stand, are already finished and published; and
contain the Partition of Sciences, which is the first
part of my Instauration.
The Novum Organum should have immediately
followed, but I interposed my moral and political
writings, because they were more in readiness.
And for them, they are these following. The
first is. The History of Henry the 7th, King of
England. Then follows that book which you
have called in your tongue, "Saggi Morali.'*
But I give a graver name to that book ; and it is
to go under the title of Serinones Fideles, [faith
ful sayings,] or Interiora Rerum, [the inside of
LETTERS FROM THE BACONIANA.
65
things.] Those Essays will be increased in
iheir number, and enlarged in the iiandling of
them.
Also that tome will contain the book of the
Wisdom of the Ancients. And this tome (as I
said) doth, as it were interlope, and doth not stand
in the order of the Instauration.
After these shall follow the Ororanum Novum,
to which a second part is yet to be added which I
have -Uready comprised and measured in the idea
of it. And thus the second part of my Instaura-
tion will be finished.
As for the third part of the Instauration, that is
to say, the Natural History, it is plainly a work
for a king or a pope, or for some college or order;
and cannot be by personal industry performed as
it ought.
Those portions of it, which have already seen
the light, to wit, concerning winds, and touching
life and death, they are not pure history, by rea-
son of the axioms and larger observations which
are interposed. But they are a kind of mixed
writings, composed of natural history, and a rude
and imperfect instrument, or help, of the under-
standing.
And this is the fourth part of the Instauration.
Wherefore that fourth part shall follow, and shall
contain many examples of that instrument, more
exact, and much more fitted to rules of induction.
Fifthly, there shall follow a book to be entitled
by ns, Prodromus Philosophiae Secundae, [the
forerunner of Secondary Philosophy.] This
shall contain our inventions about new axioms to
be raised from the experiments themselves, that
they which were before as pillars lying uselessly
along may be raised up. And this we resolve on
for the fifth part of our Instauration.
Lastly, there is yet behind the Secondary Phi-
losophy itself, which is the sixth part of the In-
stauration. Of the perfecting this I have cast
away all hopes ; but in future ages perhaps the
design may hud again. Notwithstanding, in our
Prodromie, [or prefatory works,] such I mean
only, which touch almost the universals of nature,
there will be laid no inconsiderable foundations
of this matter.
Our meanness, you see, attempteth great things ;
placing our hopes only in this, that they seem to
proceed from the providence and immense good-
ness of God.
And I am by two arguments thus persuaded.
First, I think thus, from that zeal and con-
stancy of my mind, which has not waxed old in
this desigr-n, nor after so many years grown cold
and indilTerent. I remember that about forty
years ago I composed a juvenile work about these
things, which with great confidence and a pom-
pous title, I called Temporis Partum Maximum,*
[or the most considerable birth of time.]
* Or, it may be Masculuin, as I find it read elsewhere.
Vol. III.— 9
Secondly, I am thus persuaded because of its
infinite usefulness ; for which reason it may be
ascribed to divine encouragement.
I pray your fatherhood to commend me to that
most excellent man, Signor Molines, to whose
most delightful and prudent letters I will return
answer shortly, if God permit. Farewell, most
reverend father.
Your most assured friend,
Francis St. Alban.
TRANSLATION OF A LETTER OF THE LORD BA-
CON'S, IN FRENCH, TO THE MARQUESS FIAT,
RELATING TO IIIS ESSAYS.
My Lord Ambassador, my Son,
Seeing that your excellency makes and treats
of marriages, not only betwixt the princes of
France and England, but also betwixt their lan-
guages, (for you have caused my book of tlie Ad-
vancement of Learning to be translated into
French,) I was much inclined to make you a pre-
sent of the last book which I published, and
which I had in readiness for you.
I was sometimes in doubt whether I ought to
have sent it to you, because it was written in the
English tongue. But now, for that very reason I
send it to you. It is a recompilement of my
Essays, Moral and Civil ; but in such manner
enlarged and enriched both in number and weight,
that it is in effect a new work. I kiss your hf.nds,
and remain
Your most affectionate and
most humble servant, etc
TRANSLATION OF A LETTER FROM THE UNIVER-
SITY OP OXFORD TO THE LORD BACON, UPON
HIS SENDING TO TIIEAI HIS BOOK DE AUG-
MENTIS SCIENTIARUM.
Most noble, and ( ) most learned Viscount,
Your honour could have given nothing more
agreeable, and the University could have received
nothing more acceptable than the sciences. And
those sciences which she formerly sent forth poor,
of low stature, unpolished, she hath received ele-
gant, tall, and, by the supplies of your wit, by
which alone they could have been advanced, most
rich in dowry. She esteemeth it an extraordinary
favour to have a return with usury, made of that
by a stranger, if so near a relation may be called
a stranger, which she bestows as a patrimony
upon her children. And she readily acknow-
ledgeth, that though the muses are born in Ox
ford they grow elsewhere. Grown they are, and
under your pen, who, like some mighty Hercules,
in learning have by your own hand further
advanced those pillars in the learned world, whi »h
f2
66
LETTERS FROM THE BACONIANA.
by the rest of that world were supposed immo-
vable.
We congratulate you, you most accomplished
combatant, who, by your most diligent patronage
of the virtues of others, have overcome other
patrons; and, by your own writings, yourself.
For, by the eminent height of your honour, you
advanced only learned men, now at last, O
ravishing prodigy ! you have also advanced
learning itself.
The ample munificence of this gift lays a bur-
den upon your dlients, in the receiving of which
we have the honour ; but, in the enjoying of it,
the emolument will descend to late posterity. If,
therefore, we are not able of ourselves to return
sufficient and suitable thanks, our nephews of the
next age ought to give their assistance, and pay
the remainder, if not to yourself, to the honour of
your name. Happy they, but we, how much
more happy, &c., to whom you have pleased to
do the honour of sending a letter, written by no
other than by your own hand. To whom you
have pleased to send the clearest instructions for
reading [your works,] and for concord in our
studies, in the front of your book; as if it were a
small thing for your lordship to enrich the muses
out of your own stock, unless you taught them
also a method of getting wealth. Wherefore this
most accurate pledge of your understanding has
been, with the most solemn reverence, received
in a very full congregation, both by the doctors
and masters ; and that which the common vote
hath placed in our public library, every single
person has gratefully deposited in his memory.
Your lordship's most devoted servant.
The University of Oxford.
From our Convocation House,
December 20, 1623.
The superscription was thus :
2b the Right Honourable Francis, Baron of Vcru-
lum, and Viscount of St. Alban, our very good
Lord.
A LETTER WRITTEN BY DR ROGER MAYNWAR-
ING TO DR. RAWLEY, CONCERNING THE LORD
BACON'S CONFESSION OF FAITH.
Sir, — I have, at your command, surveyed this
deep and devout tract of your deceased lord, and
send back a few notes upon it.
In the first page, line 7,* are these words :
"I believe that God is so holy, pure, and
jealous, that it is impossible for him to be pleased
in any creature, though the work of his own
hands ; so that neither angel, man, nor world,
could stand, or can stand, one moment in his
t<yes, without beholding the same in the face of a
.Mediator; and, therefore, that before him, with
whom all things are present, the Lamb of God
•Thotis InRcBUsc'tatio, p. 117,1.8, to "forever," in p. 118.
was slain before all worlds; without which eter-
nal counsel of his, it was impossible for him to
have descended to any work of creation; but he
should have enjoyed the blessed and individual
society of Three Persons in Godhead, only, for-
ever."
This point I have heard some divines question,
whether God, without Christ, did pour liis love
upon the creature? and I had sometime a dispute
with Dr. Sharp,* of your university, who held,
that the emanation of the leather's love to the
creature, was immediate. His reason, amongst
others, was taken from that text, " So God loved
the world, that he gave his only begotten Son."
Something of that point 1 have written amongst
my papers, which on the sudden I cannot light
upon. But I remember that I held the point in
the negative ; and that St. Austin, in his com-
ment on the fifth chapter to the Romans, gathered
by Beda, is strong that way.
In page 2, line the 9th to the 13th,"|" are these
words:
"God, by the reconcilement of the Medi-
ator, turning his countenance towards his crea-
tures, (though not in equal light and degree,)
made way unto the dispensation of his most holy
and secret will, whereby some of his creatures
might stand and keep their state ; others might,
possibly, fall and be restored ; and others might
fall, and not be restored in their estate, but yet
remain in being, though under wrath and corrup-
tion, all with respect to the Mediator; which is
the great mystery, and perfect centre of all God's
ways with his creatures, and unto which all his
other works and wonders do but serve and refer."
Here absolute reprobation seems to be defend-
ed, in that the will of God is made the reason of
the non-restitution of some; at leastwise his lord-
ship seems to say, that 'twas God's will that some
should fall ; unless that may be meant of voluntas
permissiva, [his will of permission.]
In page the second, at the end,:}: where he
saith, " Amongst the generations of men, he
elected a small flock," if that were added, "of
fallen men," it would not be amiss ; lest any
should conceive that his lordship had meant, the
decree had passed on massa incorrupta, [on
mankind considered before the fall.T
In page the 4th, lines the 13th and 14th,§ are
these words :
"Man made a total defection from God, pre-
suming to imagine, that the commandments and
prohibitions of God were not the rules of good
and evil, but that good and e/il had their own
principles and beginnings."
♦ The same, I think, who wag committed to the Tower
having taught Iloskins his Allusion to the Sicilian Vespofi
See Reliqu. Wootton, p. 434.
\ That is, in Resuscitatio, p. 118, 1. 9, to "refer."
tThat is, ibid, p. 118, 1. 21, fee.
{ That is, ibid. p. 119, 1. 36, ice.
LETTERS FROiM THE BACONIANA.
97
Consider whether this be a rule universal, that
the commands and prohibitions of God are the
rules of good and evil : for, as St. Austin saith,
many things are prohibita quia mala, [for that
reason forbidden because they are evil,] as those
sins which the schools call specifical.
In page 7, lines the 23d and 24th,* are these
words:
" The three heavenly unities exceed all natural
unities; that is to say, the unity of the three
Persons in Godhead; the unity of God and man
in Christ, and the unity of Christ and the church,
the Holy Ghost being the worker of both these
latter unities; for, by the Holy Ghost was Christ
incarnate, and quickened in flesh; and by the
Holy Ghost is man regenerate, and quickened in
spirit."
Here two of the unities are ascribed to the
Holy Ghost. The first seems excluded; yet
divines say, that "Spiritus Sanctus est amor, et
vinculum Patris et Filii;" [the Holy Ghost is
the love and the bond of the Father and the
Son.]
In page 3, line the 13th,-j- are these words :
" Christ accomplished the whole work of the
redemption and restitution of man, to a state
superior to the angels."
This [superior] seems to hit upon that place,
lauyyf xot,-i;. which argues but equality. Suarez
(DeAngelis, lib. 1, cap. 1) saith, that angels
are superior to men, " Quod gradum intellectua-
lem, et quoad immediatam habitationem ad
Deum," [both in respect of the degree of their
intellectual nature, and of the nearness of their
habitation to God.] Yet, St. Austin affirmeth,
" Naturam humanam in Christo perfectiorem esse
angelica," [that the human nature in Christ is
more perfect than the angelical.] Consider of
this. And thus far, not as a critic or corrector,
but as a learner; for,
" Corrigere, res est tantd magis ardua, quantd
Magnus, Aristarcho, major Homerus erat."
In haste.
Your servant,
Roger Maynwaring.
TRANSLATION OF A LETTER WRITTEN BY DR.
RAWLEY, TO MONSIEUR DEODATE, CONCERN-
ING HIS PUBLISHING OF THE LORD BACON'S
WORKS.
Most noble and dear Sir,
1 am now at last in the country, the spring and
Lent coming on. I am sorry that I had not the
opportunity of waiting on you before I left the
town; but I am sure I shall never be wanting in
♦ That is, in Resuscitatio, p. 120, 1. 40, 41, tc.
t Thnt is, ibid, p. 121, liaes 8 &. 9.
t LuKe XX. 30.
serving you upon all occasions, and in perform-
ing towards you all offices, either of friendship or
observance.
I will, to the utmost of my power, take care to
publish the [remaining]] labours of that illustri-
ous hero, the Lord Verulam, esteeming it my
greatest happiness to have formerly served him,
and still to do so. And that I may avoid all sus-
picion of being worse than my word, I will
perform my promise with all convenient speed.
I desire that this friendship and mutual inward-
ness begun betwixt us may always continue,
and, if you please, live and flourish by letters,
the badges and nourishers of it, even when you
are at Paris; a place which, if ever I be so hap-
py, I will see for your sake, as well as for other
reasons. Pray think not that I am free of my
words and frugal of my deeds, but rather that my
thick and very troublesome occasions, whilst I
was in the city, would not suffer me to kiss your
hands. It remains that I heartily honour you,
and retaliate your love, and wish you all the
good in the world, as being.
Sir,
Your most faithful servant,
and constant friend,
William Rawlev.
March the 9lh, 1632.
TRANSLATION OF A LETTER WRITTEN BY MON-
SIEUR JELIUS DEODATE, TO DR. RAWLEV, IN AN-
SWER TO HIS OF MARCH THE 9lh, 1632, TOUCHINO
HIS PUBLISHING THE LORD BACON'S WORKS.
To the reverend his most honoured friend, Wil-
liam Rawley, Doctor of Divinity, and Chaplain
to the King's Majesty.
Reverend and most dear Sir,
A few days ago, I received your most accept-
able and most desired letter, in which, to comfort
me for the loss of your most agreeable company,
(of which I was deprived by your sudden leaving
the town,) you make me a new promise of a near
and lasting friendship. Nothing could have hap-
pened to me more pleasing than this kindness,
(which I shall diligently endeavour, to the utmost
of my power, by all ways of love and observance,
to deserve ;) so much I value your own worth and
the ever estimable memory of our most illustrious
hero, a portion of whose spirit resides in your
breast.
I so greedily expect the speedy edition of h'm
works, which you have promised, that I havo
already almost devoured the whole of it in my
hopes. Suffer not, I beseecti you, any delay by
any means to obstruct this my earnest desire:
seeing, especially, it much concerns yourfee'.f, as
you confess, upon many accounts, to promote it
with all expedition.
68
LETTERS FROM THE BACONIANA.
My design of a translation of the Natural
History has not succeeded so happily as I could
wish, as you will perceive by the specimen which
I send to you. Wherefore I desired him who had
undertaken the work to desist from it, he having
done only that little which you will see in a few
leaves; whereas, he undertook the doing of the
whole two years ago. I am not yet resolved
about the time of my returning into France. I
will let you know it ere I go, and tell you by
whom our letters may be conveyed to one another.
F;irewell.
Reverend sir,
Your most humble servant,
tElius Deodate, Advocate.
London, April 4, 1633.
TRANSLATION OF THE FIRST LETTER OF MR. IS A \C
GRUTER, TO DR. RAWLEY, CONCERNING THE
MSS. OF THE LORD BACON.
To the Reverend and most Learned William
Rawley, Isaac Gruter wisheth much health.
Reverend Sir,
By reason of the immature death of my brother,
to whom we owe the Latin translation of the Lord
Bacon's Natural History, I have been forced to
stay a long while in our native country of Zealand,
in order to the settling of the domestic affairs of
the person deceased. Returning home to Holland,
I found your letter, which, I assure you, was most
acceptable to me; yet, at this I was concerned,
that my necessar}'- absence from the Hague had
occasioned so late an answer to it. He deserves
pardon who offends against his will : and who
will endeavour to make amends for this involun-
tary delay, by the study of such kindness as shall
be vigilant in offices of friendship, as often as
occasion shall be offered.
The design of him who translated into French
the Natural History of the Lord Bacon, of which
I gave account in my former letters, is briefly
exhibited in my brother's preface, which I desire
you to peruse; as, also, in your next letter, to send
me your judgment concerning such errors as may
have been committed by him.
That edition of my brother's, of which you
write that you read it with a great deal of pleasure,
shall shortly be set forth with his amendments,
together with some additions of the like argument
to be substituted in the place of the New Atlantis,
which shall be there omitted. These additions
will be the same with those in the version of the
fnrementioned Frenchman, put into Latin; seeing
we could not find the English originals from
which he translates them, unless you, when you
spp the book, shall condemn those additions as
adulterate.
For your observations on those places, either
ot rightly understood, or not accurately turned
out of the English by you published, (which,
from one not a native, in his first essay, and grow-
ing in knowledge together with his years, if they
be many, no man needs wonder on it, who under-
stands the physiological variety of an argument
of such extent, and rendered difficult by such an
heap of things of which it consists, and for the
expressing of which there is not a supply of
words from the ancients, but some of a new
stamp, and such as may serve for present use,
are required.) I entreat you not to deny me the
sight of them, that so I may compare them with
the corrections which my brother (now with God)
did make with a very great deal of pains. But,
whether the truth of them answers his diligence,
will be best understood by yourself, and those
few others by whom such elegancies can be
rightly judged of.
I send you here a catalogue of these writings*
which I had in MS. out of the study of Sir Wil-
liam Boswel, and which 1 now have by me, either
written by the Lord Bacon himself, or by some
English amanuensis, but by him revised ; as the
same Sir William Boswel (who was pleased to
admit me to a most intimate familiarity with him)
did himself tell me. Among my copies (as the
catalogue which comes with this letter shows)
you will find the History of Rare and Dense Bo-
dies, but imperfect, though carried on to some
length.
I had once in my hands an entire and thick
volume concerning heavy and light bodies, but
consisting only of a naked delineation of the
model, which the Lord Bacon had framed in his
head, in titles of matters, without any description
of the matters themselves. There is here en-
closed a copy of that contexture,! containing only
the heads of the chapters, and wanting a full han-
dling from that rude draught, which supplement I
despair of.
For the book of dense and rare bodies which
you have by you, perfected by the author's last
hand, as likewise the Fragments, which are an
appendix to it, I could wish that they might be
here published in Holland, together with those
hitherto unpublished philosophical papers copied
by me, out of MSS. of Sir William Boswel ;
seeing, if they come out together, they will set off
and commend one another.
I have begun to deal with a printer, who is a
man of great diligence and curiosity. I will so
order the matter, that you shall have no reason to
complain of my fidelity and candour, if you leave
that edition to me. Care shall be taken by me,
that it be not done without honourable mention cf
yourself; but be it what it will, you shall resolve
upon; it shall abate nothing of the offices of our
♦These were the papers which T. Gruter afterward!
published, under the title of Scripta Philosophica.
t This letter came to my hands without that copy. See,
in lieu of it, Topica de Gravi at Levi, in lib. v. cap. 3 De
Augm. Scien.
LETTERS FROM THE BACONIANA.
friendship, which, from this beginning of it, shall
still further he promoted upon all occasions.
Lewis Elzevir wrote me word lately, from
Amsterdam, that he was designed to begin shortly
ail edition in quarto of all the works of the Lord
Bacon, in Latin or English ; but not of the Eng-
lish without the translation of them into Latin :
and he desired my advice, and any assistance I
could give him by manuscripts or translations, to
the end that, as far as possible, those works
might come abroad with advantage, which have
been long received with the kindest eulogies,
and with the most attested applause of the learned
world. If you have any thing in your mind, or
your hands, whence we may hope for assistance
in so famous a design, and conducing so much to
the honour of those who are instrumental in it,
pray let me know it, and reckon me henceforth
amongst the devout honourers of the name of the
Lord Bacon, and ot your own virtues.
Farewell.
I expect from you what you know about the
ancestors of the Lord Bacon, especially concern-
ing his father, Nicholas Bacon, concerning his
youth, his studies in Cambridge, his travels, his
honours, his office of chancellor, and his deposal
from it by sentence of parliament. The former I
will undertake ija a more florid and free style,
expatiating in his just praises ; the latter, with a
wary pen, lest out of my commentary of the life
of this most learned man, matter be offered of
pernicious prating, to slanderers and men of dis-
honest tempers.
From the Hague, Ma^ 29, 1652.
TRANSLATION OF THE SECOND LETTER OF MR.
ISAAC GRUTER, TO 1)R. RAWLEY, CONCERNING
THE WRITINGS OF THE LORD BACON.
To the Reverend William Rawley, D. D., Isaac
Gruter wisheth much health.
Reverend Sir, — It is not just to complain of
the slowness of your answer, seeing that the
difficulty of the passage, in the season in which
you wrote, which was towards winter, might
easily cause it to come no faster : seeing like-
wise there is so much to be found in it which may
gratify desire, and perhaps so much the more the
longer it was ere it came to my hands. And al-
though I had little to send back, besides my
thanks for the little index,* yet that seemed to
me of such moment that I would no longer sup-
press them : especially because I accounted it a
crime to have suffered Mr. Smithf to have been
without an answer: Mr. Smith, my most kind
* A note of some papers of the Lord Bacon's in D. R.'s
handp.
f Of Christ's College, in Cambridge, and keeper of the
public library there.
friend, and to whose care, in my matters, I owe
all regard and affection, yet without diminution
of that part (and that no small one neither) in
which Dr. Rawley hath place : so that the souls
of us three so throughly agreeing, may be aptly
said to have united in a iriga.
Though I thought that I had already sufficiently
showed what veneration I had for the illustrious
Lord Verulam, yet I shall take such care for the
future, that it may not possibly be denied, that I
endeavoured most zealously to make this thing
known to the learned world.
But neither shall this design, of setting forth
in one volume all the Lord Bacon's works, pro-
ceed without consulting you, and without invit-
ing you to cast in your symbol, worthy such an
excellent edition : that so the appetite of the
reader, provoked already by his published works,
may be further gratified by the pure novelty of so
considerable an appendage.
For the French interpreter, who patched to-
gether his things I know not whence,* and tacked
that motley piece to him ; they shall not have
place in this great collection. But yet I hope to
obtain your leave to publish apart, as an appendix
to the Natural History, that exotic work, gathered
together from this and the other place [of his
lordship's writings] and by me translated into
Latin. For seeing the genuine pieces of the Lord
Bacon are already extant, and in many hands, it
is necessary that the foreign reader be given to
understand of what threads the texture of that
book consists, and how much of truth there is in
that which that shameless person does, in his
preface to the reader, so stupidly write of you.
My brother, of blessed memory, turned his
words into Latin, in the first edition of the Na-
tural History, having some suspicion of the fide-
lity of an unknown author. I will, in the second
edition, repeat them, and with just severity ani-
madvert upon them : that they, into whose hands
that work comes, may know it to be supposititious,
or rather patched up of many distinct pieces;
how much soever the author bears himself upon
the specious title of Verulam.
Unless, perhaps, I should particularly suggest
in your name, that these words were there inserted,
by way of caution ; and lest malignity and rash-
ness should any way blemish the fame of so emi-
nent a person.
Si me, fata, meis, paterentur ducere vitam axiu-
piciis — (to use the words of Virgil.) If my fate
would permit me to live according to my wishes,
I would fly over into England, that I might behold
whatsoever remaineth in your cabinet of the Ve-
rulamian workmanship, and at least make my
eyes witnesses of it, if the possession of the mer
chandise be yet denied to the public.
• Certain spurious papers added to his tianslation of tlM
Advancement of Learni.''.g.
70
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS
At present T will support the wishes of my im-
patient desire, with nope of seeing, one day, those
[issues] which being committed to faithful pri-
vacy, wait the time till they may safely see the
light, and not be stifled in their birth.
I wish, in tlie mean time, I could have a sight
of the copy of the epistle to Sir Henry Savil,
concernintT the helps of the intellectual powers :
for I am persuaded, as to the other Latin remains,
that I shall not obtain, for present use, the remo-
val of them from the place in which they now
are. Farewell.
Mfiestricht, March 20,
New Style, 1655.
TRANSLATION OF THE THIRD LETTER WRITTEN
BY MR. ISAAC GRUTER, TO DR. RAWLEY, CON-
CERNING THE WRITINGS OF THE LORD BACON.
To the reverend and most learned William
Rawley, D. D., Isaac Gruter wisheth much
health.
Reverend Sir, and my most dear Friend,
How much I hold myself honoured by your
present of the Lord Bacon's Posthumous Works,
published lately by you in Latin, my thanks im-
mediately returned had let you understand, if ill
fortune in the passage (which is, for divers causes,
uncertain) had not deluded the care of a friend,
who did here with much readiness undertake the
conveyance of them.
Now, the gift is by so much the greater, by
how much the more benefit I reaped by diligent
reading of those papers, and by comparing them
with some of the Lord Bacon's works, which I
myself had formerly published. For, to you we
owe the more enlarged history de denso ef raro,
as also many other things contained in that
volume, which saw not the light before. One
paper I wonder I saw not amongst them, the
epistle of the Lord Bacon to Sir Henry Savil,
about the helps of the intellectual powers, spoken
of long ago in your letters, under that or some
such title, if my memory does not deceive me.
If it was not forgotten, and remains among your
private papers, 1 should be glad to see a copy of
it, in the use of which my faithfulness shall not
be wanting. But perhaps it is written in the
English tongue, and is a part of that greater
volume, which contains only his English works. If
you will please to let me understand so much,
and likewise give me assurance of obtaining that
book, in which the speeches, and it may be the
letters of the Lord Bacon, written by him in
English, are digested, you will render your me-
mory sacred in my mind, in the veneration of
which, the cheerfulness of a most devoted affec-
tion shall never be weary. Farewell.
From Maestricht, from whence, after two or
three months, I remove to Nimmeghen, nigher to
Holland. But you may convey to me any thing
you desire, by Mr. Smith.
July 1st, New Style, 1659.
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS,
NOT PRINTED IN THE PREVIOUS P.\RT OF THIS VOLUME.
TO MR. MATHEWE.
Sir, — I was heartily glad to hear that you had
passed so great a part of your journey in so good
health. My aim was right in my address of let-
ters to those persons in the court of Scotland,
who were likeliest to be used for the affairs of
England ; but the pace they held was too swift,
for the men were come away before my letters
could reach them. With the first, I have renewed
acquaintance, and it was like a bill of revivor, by
way of cross-suits; for he was as ready to have
begun with me. The second did this day arrive,
and look acquaintance with me instantly in the
Council Chamber, and was willing to entertain
me 'vith further demonstrations of confidence,
than 1 was willing at that time to admit. But, I
have had no serious speech with him, nor do I
yet know whether any of the doubles of my letter
have been delivered to the king. It may, perhaps,
have proved your luck to be the first.
Things are here in good quiet. The king acts
excellently well ; for he puts in clauses of reser-
vation to every proviso. He saith, he would be
sorry to have just cause to remove any. He
saith, he will displace none who hath served the
queen and state sincerely, &c. The truth is,
here be two extremes, some few would have no
change, no, not reformation. Some many would
have much change, even with perturbation. God,
I hope, will direct this wise king to hold a mi^an
between reputation enough, and no terrors. In
my particular I have many comforts and assu-
rances ; but, in my own opinion the chief is, that
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
71
the canvassing world is gone, and the deserving
world is come. And, withal, I find myself as
one awaked out of sleep ; which I have not been
tliis long time, nor could, I think, have been now
without such a great noise as this, which yet is
in aurii km. I have written this to you in haste,
my end being no more than to write, and thereby
to make you know that I will ever continue the
same, and still be sure to wish you as heartily
well as to myself.
TO MR. MATKEW.
Sir, — Two letters of mine are now already
Walking towards you; but so that we might meet,
it were no matter though our letters should lose
their way. I make a shift in the mean time to
be glad of your approaches, and would be more
glad to be an agent for your presence, who have
been a patient for your absence. If your body by
indisposition make you acknowledge the health-
ful air of your native country, much more do I
assure myself that you continue to have your
mind no way estranged. And, as my trust with
the state is above suspicion, so my knowledge,
both of your loyalty and honest nature, will ever
make me show myself your faithful friend, with-
out scruple: you have reason to commend that
gentleman to me by whom you sent your last,
although his having travelled so long amongst the
sadder nations of the world make him much the
less easy upon small acquaintance to be under-
stood. I have sent you some copies of my book
of the Advancement, which you desired, and a
little work of my recreation, which you desired
not. My Instauration I reserve for our confer-
ence ; it sleeps not. These works of the al phabet
are in my opinion of less use to you where you
are now, than at Paris ; and therefore I conceived
that you had sent me a kind of tacit countermand
of your former request. But, in regard that some
friends of yours have still insisted here, I send
them to you ; and, for my part, I value your own
reading more than your publishing them to others.
Thus, in extreme haste, I have scribbled to you I
know not what, which, therefore, is the less
affected, and for that very reason will not be
esteemed the less by you.
TO MR. MATIIEW.
Sir, — I thank you for your last, and pray you
to believe, that your liberty in giving opinion of
those writings which I sent you, is that which 1
sought, which I expected, and which I take in
exceeding good part; so good, as that it makes
me recontinue. or rather continue my hearty
wishes of your company here, that so you might
use the same liberty concerning my actions,
which now you exercise concerning my writings.
For that of Queen Elizabeth, your judgment of
the temper, and truth of that part, which concerns
some of her foreign proceedings, concurs fully
with the judgment of others, to whom I have
communicated part of it; and as things go, I
suppose they are more likely to be more and more
justified, and allowed. And, whereas you say,
for some other part, that it moves and opens a
fair occasion and broad way into some field of
contradiction ; on the other side, it is written to
me from the Leiger at Paris, and some others
also, that it carries a manifest impression of truth
with it, and it even convinces as it goes. These
are their very words ; which I write not for mine
own glory, but to show what variety of opinion
rises from the disposition of several readers.
And, I must confess my desire to be, that my
writings should not court the present time, or
some few places in such sorts as might make
them either less general to persons, or less per-
manent in future ages. As to the Instauration,
your so full approbation thereof, I read with much
comfort, by how much more my heart is upon it;
and by how much less I expected consent and
concurrence in matter so obscure. Of this I can
assure you, that though many things of great
hope decay with youth, (and multitude of civil
businesses is wont to diminish the price, though
not the delight, of contemplations,) yet the j)ro-
ceeding in that work doth gain with me upon my
affection and desire, both by years and businesses.
And, therefore, I hope, even by this, that it is
well pleasing to God, from whom and to whom
all good moves. To him I most heartily com-
mend you.
TO SIR HENRY SAVILLE.
Sir, — Coming back from your invitation at
Eton, where I had refreshed myself with com-
pany, which I loved ; I fell into a consideration
of that part of policy whereof philosophy speaketh
too much, and laws too little ; and that is, of edu-
cation of youth. Whereupon fixing my mind
awhile, I found straightways, and noted, even in
the discourses of philosophers, which are so
large in this argument, a strange silence con-
cerning one principal part of that subject. For,
as touching the framing and seasoning of youth
to moral virtues, (as tolerance of labours, conti-
nency from pleasures, obedience, honour, and the
like,) they handle it; but touching the impro e-
ment and helping of the intellectual powers, as
of conceit, memory, and judgment, they say no-
thing; whether it were, that they thought it m
be a matter wherein nature only prevailed, or tltat
jri-'*"
LIBRARi
72
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
they intended it, as referred, to the several and
proper arts, which teach the use of reason and
speech. But, for the former of these two reasons,
howsoever it pleaseth them to distinguish of
habits and powers; the experience is manifest
enough, that the motions and faculties of the wit
and memory may be not only governed and
guided, but also confirmed and enlarged, by cus-
toms and exercise dailj' ap[)lied : as, if a man
exercise shooting, he shall not only shoot nearer
the mark, but also draw a stronger bow. And,
as for the latter, of comprehending these precepts,
within the arts, of logic and rhetoric; if it be
rightly considered, their office is distinct altoge-
ther from this point; for it is no part of the doc-
trine, of the use or handling of an instrument, to
teach how to whet or grind the instrument, to give
it a sharp edge; or, how to quench it, or other-
wise, whereby to give it a stronger temper.
Wherefore, finding this part of knowledge not
broken, 1 have, but " tanquam aliud agens,^''
entered into it, and salute you with it; dedicating
it, after the ancient manner, first as to a dear
friend, and then as to an apt person ; forasmuch
as you have both place to practise it, and judg-
ment and leisure to look deeper into it than 1 have
<lone. Herein you must call to mind, "Apt^ov fj.h
vJZp. Though the argument he not of great
height and dignity, nevertheless, it is of great and
universal use. And yet I do not see why, to
consider it rightly, that should not be a learning
of height which teacheth to raise the highest
and worthiest part of the mind. But, howsoever
that be, if the world take any light and use by
this writing, I will, the gratulation be to the good
friendship and acquaintance between us two.
And so recommend you to God's divine protec-
tion.
TO SIR GEORGE VILLIERS.
Sir, — There is a particular wherein I think you
may do yourself honour, which, as I am informed,
hath been laboured by my Lady of Bedford, and
put in good way by the Bishop of Bath and Wells,
concerning the restoring to preach of a famous
preacher, one Doctor Burgesse, who, though he
hath been silenced a great time, yet he hath now
made such a submission touching his conformity,
as giveth satisfaction. It is much desired alsoby
Gray's Inn, (if lie shall be free from the state,) to
choose him for their preacher: and certainly it is
safer to place him there, than in another auditor}'^,
because he will be well watched, if he should any
ways fly forth in his sermons beyond duty. This
may seem a trifle ; but I do assure you, in open-
ing this man's mouth to preach, you shall open
Tery many mouths to speak honour of you ; and I
tonfess T would have a full cry of Puritans, of
Papists, of all the world to speak well of yon ; and
besides, I am persuaded (wiiich is abi)ve jll
earthly glory) you shall do God good service in it.
I pray deal with his majesty in it. I rest
Your devoted and bounden servant,
Fka. Bacon.
June ]3, 1616.
TO THE KING.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
First, from the bottom of my heart I thank the
God of all mercy and salvation, that he hatli pre-
served you from receiving any hurt by your fall ;
and I pray his Divine Majesty ever to pre^^erve
you, on horseback and on foot, from hurt and fear
of hurt.
Now, touching the clothing business; for that
I perceive the cloth goeth not off as it should, and
that Wiltshire is now come in with complaint, as
well as Gloucestershire and Worcestershire, so
that this gangrene creepeth on ; I humbly pray
your majesty to take into your majesty's princely
consideration a remedy for the present stand,
which certainly will do the deed ; and for any
thing that I know, will be honourable and con-
venient, though joined with some loss in your
majesty's customs, which I know, in a business
of this quality, and being but for an interim, till
you may negotiate, your majesty doth not esteem.
And it is this :
That your majesty by your proclamation do
forbid (after fourteen days, giving that time for
suiting men's selves) the wearing of any stuff
made wholly of silk, without mixture of wool, for
the space of six months. So your majesty shall
supply outward vent with inward use, specially
for the finer cloths, which are those wherein the
stand principally is, and which silk wearers are
likest to buy; and you shall show a most princely
care over thousands of the poor people; and, be-
sides, your majesty shall blow a horn, to let the
Flemings know your majesty will not give over
the chase. Again, the winter season coming on,
is fittest for wearing of cloth, and there is scopo
enough left for bravery and vanity by lacing and
embroidery, so it be upon cloth or stuffs of wool.
I thought it my duty to offer and submit this
remedy, amongst others, to your majesty's great
wisdom, because it pleased you to lay the care <)f
this business upon me ; and indeed my care did fly
to it before, as it shall always do to any knots and
difficulties in your business, wherein hitherto I
have been not unfortunate. God ever have you in
his most precious custody.
Your majesty's most faithful
and most bounden servant,
Fra. Bacow
Sept. 13, 1616.
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
7a
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT VILLIERS.
My very good Lord,
It was my opinion from the beginning, that this
(umpany will never overcome the business of the
cloth; and that the impediments are as much or
more in the persons which are instrumenta animata
than in the dead business itself.
! have therefore sent unto the king here enclosed
riiy reasons, which I pray your lordship to show
his majesty.
The new company and the old company are
but the sons of Adam to me, and I take myself to
liave some credit with both, but it is upon fear
rather with the old, and upon love rather with the
new, and yet with both upon persuasion that I
understand the business.
Nevertheless I walk in via regia, which is not
absolutely acceptable to either. For the new
company would have all their demands granted,
and the old company would have the king's work
given over and deserted.
My opinion is, that the old company be drawn
to succeed into the contract, (else the king's
honour sufTereth;) and that we all draw in one
way to effect that. If time, which is the wisest
of things, prove the work impossible or incon-
venient, which I do not yet believe, I know his
majesty and the state will not suffer them to
perish.
I wish what shall be done were done with
resolution and speed, and that your lordship (be-
cause it is a gracious business) had thanks of it
next the king ; and that there were some commis-
sion under his majesty's sign manual, to deal
with some selected persons of the old company,
and to take their answers and consent under their
hands, and that the procuring the commission,
and the procuring of their offers to be accepted,
were your lordship's work.
In this treaty my lord chancellor must by no
means be left out, for he will moderate well, and
aimeth at his majesty's ends.
Mr. Solicitor is not yet returned, but I look for
him presently. I rest
Your lordship's true and
most devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon.
Monday 14th of October, at 10 of the clock.
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT VILLIERS.
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
Now, that the king has received my opinion,
with the judge's opinion unto whom it was
referred, touching the proposition for inns in
point of law ; it resteth that it be moulded and
carried in that sort, as it may pass with best con-
tentment and conveniency. Wherein I, that ever
love good company, as I was joined with others
in the legal points, so I desire not to be alone in
Vol. III.— 10
the direction touching the conveniency. And,
therefore, I send your lordship a form of warrant
for the king's signature, whereby the framing of
the business, and that which belongeth to it,
may be referred to myself, with Serjeant Mon-
tague and Serjeant Finch ; and though Montague
should change his place, that alteration hurteth
not the business, but rather helpeth it. And
because the inquiry and survey touching inns,
will require much attendance and charge, and the
making of the licenses, I shall think fit (when
that question cometh to me) to be to the justice
of assize, and not to those that follow this busi-
ness : therefore, his majesty may be pleased to
consider what proportion or dividend shall be
allotted to Mr. Mompesson, and those that shall
follow it at their own charge, which useth in
like cases to be a fifth. So I ever rest
Your lordship's true and most devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon.
Nov. 13, 1616.
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT VILLIERS.
My VERY GOOD Lord,
I think his majesty was not only well advised,
but well inspired, to give order for this same
wicked child of Cain, Bertram, to be examined
before he was further proceeded with. And I,
for my part, before I had received his majesty's
pleasure by my lord chamberlain, went thus
far; that I had appointed him to be further ex-
amined, and also had taken order with Mr. Soli-
citor that he should be provided to make some
declaration at his trial, in some solemn fashion,
and not to let such a strange murder pass as if it
had been but a horsestealing.
But upon his majesty's pleasure signified, I
forthwith caused the trial to be stayed, and ex-
amined the party according to his majesty's ques-
tions; and also sent for the principal counsel in
the cause, whereupon Sir John Tyndal's report
was grounded, to discern the justice or iniquity
of the said report, as his majesty likewise com-
manded.
I send therefore, the case of Bertram, truly
stated and collected, and the examination taken
before myself and Mr. Solicitor ; whereby it will
appear to his majesty that Sir .John Tyndal (as to
this cause) is a kind of a martyr; for if ever h«
made a j.ust report in his life, this was it.
But the event since all this is, that this Ber-
tram being, as it seemeth, indurate or in despaii,
hath hanged himself in prison; of which acci-
dent, as I am sorry, because he is taken from
example and public justice, so yet I would not
for any thing it had been before his examination.
So that there may be otherwise some occasion
taken, either by some declaration in the King's
Bench upon the return of the coroner's inquest
or by some printed book of the fact, or by some
74
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
other means (whereof I purpose to advise with
my lord chancellor) to have both his majesty's
royal care, and the truth of the fact, with the
circimistances manifested and published.
For the taking a tie of my lord chief justice
before he was placed, it was done before your
letter came, and on Tuesda} Heath and Shute
shall be admitted and all perfected.
My lord chancellor purposeth to be at the hall
to-morrow, to give my lord chief justice his oath;
I pray God it hurt him not this cold weather.
God ever prosper you.
Your true and most devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon.
Sunday night, the 17th of November, 1616.
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT VILLIERS.
My very good Lord,
I am glad to find your lordship mindful of your
own business, and if any man put you in mind
of it, I do not dislike that neither; but your lord-
ship may assure yourself in whatsoever you com-
mit to me, your lordship's further care shall be
needless. For I desire to take nothing from my
master and my friend, but care, and therein I am
so covetous, as I will leave them as little as
may be.
Now, therefore, things are grown to a conclu-
sion, touching your land and office, I will give
your lordship an account of that which is passed ;
and acquaint your judgment (which I know to be
great and capable of any thing) with your own
business; that you may discern the difference
between doing things substantially, and between
shuffling and talking: and first for your patent.
First, It was my counsel and care that your
book should be fee-farm and not fee-simple;
whereby the rent of the crown in succession is
not diminished, and yet the quantity of the land
which you have upon your value is enlarged ;
whereby you have both honour and profit.
Secondly, By the help of Sir Lyonel Cranfield
I advanced the value of Sherbourn from 26,000/.
(which was tliought and admitted by my lord
treasurer and Sir John Deccomb as a value of
great favour to your lordship, because it was a
thousand pounds more than it was valued at to
Somerset) to thirty-two thousand pounds, where-
by there was six thousand pounds gotten and yet
justly.
Thirdly, I advised the course of rating Harting-
ton at a hundred years' purchase, and the rest at
thirty-five years' purchase fee-farm, to be set
down and expressed in the warrant ; that it may
appear, and remain of record, that your lordship
had no other rates made to you in favour than
such as purchasers upon sale are seldom drawn
vnto ; whereby you have honour.
Fourthly, That lease to the feoffees, which was
kept as a secret in the deck, (and was not only of
Hartington, but also of most of the other particu-
lars in your book,) I caused to be thoroughly
looked into and provided for; without which
your assurance had been nothing worth; and yet
I handled it so, and made the matter so well
understood, as you were not put to be a suitor tr
the prince, for his good will in it, as other?
ignorantly thought you must have done.
Fifthly, The annexation,* (which nobody
dreamt of, and which some idle, bold lawyer
would perhaps have said had been needless, and
yet is of that weigiit, that there was never yet
any man that would purchase any such land
from the king, except he had a declaration to
discharge it;) I was provident to have it dis-
charged by declaration.
Sixthly, Lest it should be said, that your lord-
ship was the first, (except the queen and the
prince) that brake the annexation, upon a mere
gift; tor that others had it discharged only upon
sale, which was for the king's profit and neces-
sity; I found a remedy for that also; because I
have carved it in the declaration, as that this
was not gift to your lordship, but rather a pur-
chase and exchange (as indeed it was) for Sher-
bourn.
Seventhly and lastly, I have taken order (as
much as in me was) that your lordship in these
things which you have passed be not abused, if
you part with them ; for I have taken notes in a
book of their values and former offers.
Now for your office.
First, Whereas my Lord Teynham at the first
would have had your lordship have had but one
life in it, and he another ; my lord treasurer, and
the solicitor and Deccombe were about to give
way to it; I turned utterly that course, telling
them that you were to have two lives in it, as
well as Somerset had.
Secondly, I have accordingly, in the assurance
from your deputies, made them acknowledge the
trust and give security not only for your lordship's
time, but after : so as you may dispose (if you
should die, which I would be sorry to live to) the
profits of the office by your will or otherwise to
any of your friends, for their comfort and advance-
ment.
Thirdly, I dealt so with "Whitlocke as well as
Heath as there was no difficulty made of the sur-
render.
Lastly, I did cast with myself, that if your
lordship's deputies had come in by Sir Edward
Coke, who was tied to Somerset, it would have
been subject to some clamour from Somerset,
and some question what was forfeited by Somer-
set's attainder (being but of felony) to the king :
j but now they coming in from a new chief justice,
all is without question or scruple.
• The anveration by which lands, &c. were united or an-
nexud to tlie Duchies of Cornwall and Lancaster.
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
75
Thus your lordship may see my love and care
towards you, which I think infinitely too little in
respect of the fulness of my mind ; but I thought
good to write this, to make you understand better
the state of your own business; doing by you as
I do by the king; which is, to do his business
safely and with foresight, not only of to-morrow
or next day, but afar off, and not to come fiddling
with a report to him, what is done every day,
but to give him up a good sum in the end.
I purpose to send your lordship a calendar fair
written of those evidences which concern your
estate, for so much as I have passed my hands ;
which in truth are not fit to remain with solicitors,
no, nor with friends, but in some great cabinet,
to be made for that purpose.
All this while I must say plainly to your lord-
ship, that you fall short for your present charge,
except you play the good husband : for the office
of Teynham is in reversion, Darcye's land is in
reversion; all the land in your books is but in
reversion, and yields you no present profit, be-
cause you pay the fee-farm. So as you are a
strange heteroclite in grammar, for you want the
present tense ; many verbs want the preterperfect
tense and some the future tense, but none want
the present tense. I will hereafter write to your
lordship what I think of for that supply; to the
end, that you may, as you have begun to your
great honour, despise money, where it crosseth
reason of state or virtue. But I will trouble you
no further at this time. God ever preserve and
prosper your lordship.
Your true and most devoted servant.
Fr, Bacon.
November 29, 1616.
mistaking, and then a lie, and then a challenge,
and then life : saying that I did not marvel seeing
Xerxes shed tears to think none of his great
army should be alive once within a hundred
years, his majesty were touched with compassion
to think that not one of his attendants but might
be dead within twenty-four hours by the duel.
This I write because his majesty may be wary
what he sayeth to me, (in things of this nature,) I
being so apt to play the blab. In this also, I
forgot not to prepare the judges, and wish them
to profess, and as it were to denounce, that in all
cases of duel capital before them, they will use
equal severity towards the insolent murder by the
duel, and the insidious murder; and that they
will extirpate that difference out of the opinions
of men, which they did excellent well.
I must also say that it was the first time that I
heard my Lord of Arundel speak in that place ;
and I do assure your lordship, he doth excellently
become the court ; he speaketh wisely and weight-
ily, and yet easily and clearly, as a great noble-
man should do.
There hath been a proceeding in the King's
Bench, against Bertram's keeper, for misdemean-
or, and I have put a little pamphlet (prettily
penned by one Mr. Trotte, that I set on work
touching the whole business) to the press by my
lord chancellor's advice.
I pray God direct his majesty in the cloth busi-
ness, that that thorn may be once out of our sides.
His majesty knoweth my opinion ab antiqun.
Thanks be to God of your health, and long may
you live to do us all good. I rest
Your true and most devoted servant.
Fr. Bacon.
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT VILLIERS.
My very good Lord,
I delivered the proclamation for cloth to Secre-
tary Winwood on Saturday, but he keepeth it to
carry it down himself, and goeth down, as I take
it, to-day : his majesty may perceive by the docket
of the proclamation, that I do not only study, but
act that point touching the judges, which his ma-
jesty commandeth in your last.
Yesterday was a day of great good for his ma-
jesty's service, and the peace of this kingdom
concerning duels, by occasion of Darcye's case.
I spake big, and publishing his majesty's straight
charge to me, said it had struck me blind, as in
point of duels and cartels, &c., I sliould not know
a coronet from a hatband. I was bold also to
declare how excellently his majesty hail express-
ed to me a contemplation of his, touching duels;
that is, that when he came forth and saw himself
princely attended with goodly noblesse and gen-
tlemen, he entered into the thought, that none of
iheir lives were in certainty, not for twenty-four
hours, from the duel; for it was but a heat or a
THIS LETTER WAS WRITTEN TO THE EARL OP
BUCKINGHAM, ON THE SAME DAY SIR FRANCIS
BACON WAS MADE LORD. KEEPER OF THE GREAT
SEAL.
My DEAREST Lord,
It is both in cares and kindness, that small ones
float up to the tongue, and great ones sink down
into the heart in silence. Therefore, I could
speak little to your lordship to day, neither had I
fit time. But I must profess thus much, that in
this day's work you are the truest and perfectest
mirror and example of firm and generous friendship
that ever was in court. And I shall count every
day lost, wherein I shall not either study yout
welldoing in thought, or do your name honour in
speech, or perform you service in deed. Good
my lord, account and accept me
Your most bounden and devoted
friend and servant of all men living,
Fr. Bacon, C. S
March 7, 1616.
70
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKINGHAM.
My EVliR BKST LoRD, NOW BETTER THAN YOURSELF,
Your lordship's pen or rather pencil hath por-
trayed towards me such magnanimity and noble-
ness and true kindness, as methinketh I see the
image of some ancient virtue, and not any thing
of these times. It is the line of my life, and not
the lines of my letter, that must express my
thankfulness: wherein, if I fail, then God fail
me, and make me as miserable as I think myself
at this time happy, by this reviver, through his
majesty's singular clemency, and your incom-
parable love and favour. God preserve you,
prosper you, and reward you, for your kindness to
Your raised and infinitely obliged friend
and servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
September 22, 1617.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKINGHAM.
My singular good Lord,
I am now for five or six days retired to my
house in the country : for I think all my lords are
willing to do as scholars do, who, though they
call them holy-days, yet they mean them play-
days.
We purpose to meet again on Easter Monday,
and go all to the Spittall sermon for that day,
and therein to revive the ancient religious manner,
when all the counsel used to attend those
sermons; which some neglected in Queen
Elizabeth's time, and his majesty's great devo-
tion in the due hearing of sermons himself with
his counsel at the court, brought into desuetude.
But now, our attendance upon his majesty by
reason of his absence, cannot be, it is not amiss
to revive it.
I perceive by a letter your lordship did write
some days since to my Lord Blackley, that your
lordship would have the king satisfied by prece-
dents, that letters patents might be of the dignity
of an earldom, without delivery of the patent
by the king's own hand, or without the ordinary
solemnities of a creation. I find precedents
somewhat tending to the same purpose, yet not
matching fully. But, howsoever, let me, accord-
ing to my faithful and free manner of dealing
with your lordship, say to you, that since the
king means it, I would not have your lordship,
for the satisfying a little trembling or panting of
the heart in my Lord or Lady Blackley, to expose
your lordship's self, or myself, (whose opinion
would be thought to be relied upon,) or the king,
our master, to envy with the nobility of this
realm; as to have these ceremonies of honour
dispensed with, which, in conferring honour,
have used to be observed, like a kind of Doctor
Bullaius, without the ceremony of a commence-
ment: the king and you know I am not ceremo-
nious in nature, and therefore you may think, (if
it please you,) I do it in judgment. God evei
preserve you.
Your lordship's most faithful
and devoted friend and servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
Gorhanibury, April 13, 1617.
I purpose to send the precedents themselves by
my Lord of Brackley, but I thought fit to give
you some taste of my opinion before.
TO THE KING.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
Mr. Vicechamberlain, hath acquainted myself
and the rest of the commissioners, for the mar-
riage with Spain, which are here, with your
majesty's instructions, signed by your royal
hands, touching that point of the suppression of
pirates, as it hath relation to his negotiation;
whereupon, we met yesterday at my Lord
Admiral's at Chelsea, because we were loath to
draw my lord into the air, being but newly upon
his recovery.
We conceive the parts of the business are
four: the charge; the confederations, and who
shall be solicited or retained to come in; the
forces and the distributions of them ; and the
enterprise. We had only at this time conference
amongst ourselves, and shall appoint, (after the
holidays,) times for the calling before us such as
are fit, and thereupon, perform all the parts of
your royal commandments.
In this conference, I met with somewhat,
which I must confess was altogether new to me,
and opened but darkly neither; whereof I think
Mr. Vicechamberlain will give your majesty
some light, for so we wished. By occasion
whereof I hold it my duty in respect of the great
place wherein your majesty hath set me, (being
only made worthy by your grace,) which maketh
it decent for me to counsel you ad sumrnas rerum,
to intimate or represent to your majesty thus
much.
I do foresee, in my simple judgment, much
inconvenience to ensue, if your majesty proceed
to this treaty with Spain, and that your counsel
draw not all one way. I saw the bitter fruits of
a divided counsel the last parliament; I saw no
very pleasant fruits thereof in the matter of the
cloth. This will be of equal, if not of more
inconvenience; for, wheresoever the opinion of
your people is material, (as in many cases it is
' not,) there, if your counsel be united, they shall
be able, almost, to give law to opinion arid
i rumour; but if they be divided, the infusion
I will not be according to the strength and virtue
of the votes of your counsel, but according to
, the aptness and inclination of the popular. This
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
77
I leave to your majesty in your liipfh wisdom to
reuiedy. Only I could wish that when Sir John
Digby's instructions are perfected, and that he is
ready to go, your majesty would be pleased to
write some formal letter to the body of your
counsel, (if it shall be in your absence,) sig^nify-
ing to them your resolution in general, to the end
that, when deliberation shall be turned into reso-
lution, no man, howsoever he may retain the
inwardness of his opinion, may be active in
contrarmm.
The letters of my lords of the council, with
your majesty, touching the affairs of Ireland,
written largely and articulately, and by your
majesty's direction, will much facilitate our
labours here, though there will not want matter
of consultation thereupon. God ever preserve
your majesty safe and happy.
Your majesty's most devoted
and obliged servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
London, April 19, 1617.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKINGHAM.
My singular good Lord,
I send your lordship, according to the direction
of your letter, a note of the precedents that I
find in my Lord Brackley's business; which do
rather come near the case than match it. Your
lordship knoweth already my opinion, that I
would rather have you constant in the matter,
than instant for the time.
I send also enclosed an account of council
business, by way of remembrance to his majesty,
which it may please you to deliver to him.
The queen returneth her thanks to your lord-
ship, for the despatch of the warrant, touching her
house; I have not yet acquainted the lord
treasurer and chancellor of the exchequer with
it ; but I purpose to-morrow to deliver them the
warrant, and to advise with them for the executing
the same.
I have received the king's letter with another
from your lordship, touching the cause of the
officers, and Sir Arthur Ingram, whereof I will
be very careful to do them justice.
Yesterday I took my place in Chancery, which
I hold only from the king's grace and favour, and
your constant friendship. There was much ado,
and a great deal of world. But this matter of
pomp, which is heaven to some men, is hell to
me, or purcjatory at least. It is true, I was glad
to see, that the king's choice was so generally
approved; and that I had so much interest in
men's good wills and good opinions, because it
niaketh me the fitter instrument to do my master
ttervice, and my friend also.
After I was set in Chancery. I published his
majesty's charge, which he gave me when he
gave me the seal ; and what rules and resolutions
I had taken for the fulfilling his commandments.
I send your lordship a copy of that I said. My
Lord Hay, coming to take his leave of me two
days before, I told him what I was meditating,
and he desired of me to send him some remem-
brance of it; and so I «ould not but send him
another copy thereof. Men tell me, it hath done
the king a great deal of honour; insomuch, that
some of my friends that are wise men, and no
vain ones, did not stick to say to me, that there
was not these seven years such a preparation for
a Parliament; which was a commendation I con-
fess pleased me well. I pray take some fit time
to show it to his majesty, because if I misunder-
stood him in any thing, I may amend it, because
I know his judgment is higher and deeper than
mine.
I take infinite contentment to hear his majesty
is in great good health and vigour; I pray God
preserve and continue it. Thus wishing you well
above all men living, next my master and his,
I rest
Your true and devoted friend and servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
Dorset House, which piitteth
nie in mind to tliank your
lordship, for your care of
me touching Yorl? House,
May 8, 1617.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKLNGHAM.
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
I shall write to your lordship of a business,
which your lordship may think to concern my-
self; but I do think it concerneth your lordship
much more. For, as for me, as my judgment is
not so weak to think it can do me any hurt, so
my love to you is so strong, as I would prefer
the good of you and yours before mine own parti-
cular.
It seemeth Secretary Winwood hath oflTiciously
busied himself to make a match between your
brother and Sir Edward Coke's daughter: and as
we hear he doth it rather to make a faction than
out of any great affection to your lordship : it is
true, he hath the consent of Sir P^dward Coke
(as we hear) upon reasonable conditions for your
brother, and yet no better tlian without question
I may be found in some other matches. But the
I mother's consent is not had, nor the young gentle-
! man's, who expecteth a great fortune from her
I mf)ther, wiiich without her consent is endaufrered.
''■ This match, out of my faith and freedom towards.
your lordship, I hold very inconvenient, both for
your brother and yourself.
First, He shall marry into a disgraced house,
which in reason of state is never held good
Next, He shall marrv into a troubled hou'^e of
78
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
man and wife, which in religion and Christian
discretion is disliked.
Thirdly, Your lordship will go near to lose all
such your friends as are adverse to Sir Edward
Coke, (myself only except, who out of a pure
love and thankfulness shall ever be firm to you.)
And, lastly, and chiefly, (believe it,) It will |
greatly weaken and distract the king's service ; i
for though, in regard of the king's great wisdom I
and depth, I am persuaded those things will not
follow which they imagine; yet, opinion will do ]
a great deal of harm, and cast the king back, and
make him relapse into those inconveniencies
w-hich are now well on to be recovered.
Therefore, my advice is, and your lordship
shall do yo'irself a great deal of honour, if, ac-
cording to '■eligion and the law of God, your lord-
ship will signify unto my lady your mother, that
your desire is, that the marriage be not pressed or
proceeded in without the consent of both parents,
and so either break it altogether, or defer any
farther delay in it till your lordship's return: and
this the rather, for that (besides the inconvenience
of the matter itself) it hath been carried so
harshly and inconsiderately by Secretary Win-
wood, as, for doubt that the father should take
away the maiden by force, the mother to get the
start hath conveyed her away secretly ; which is
ill of all sides. Thus, hoping your lordship will
not only accept well, but believe my faithful ad-
vice, who by my great experience in the world
must needs see further than your lordship can.
I ever rest
Your lordship's true and most devoted
friend and servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
I have not heard from your lordship since I sent
the king my last account of council business, but
I assure myself you received it, because I sent at
the same time a packet to Secretary Laque, who
hath signified to me that he hath received it.
I pray your lordship deliver to his majesty this
little note of Chancery business.
July 12, 1617.
TO THE KING.
It ma7 ple*se your most exckllent Majesty,
I think it agreeable to my duty, and the great
obligation wherein I am tied to your majesty, to
be freer than other men in giving your majesty
faithful counsel, while things are in passing;
and more bound than other men in doing your
commandments, when your resolution is settled
and made known to me.
I shall, therefore, most humbly crave pardon
from your majesty, if in plainness and no less
humbleness I deliver to your majesty my honest
ind disinterested opinion in the business of the
match of Sir John VilHers, which I take to be
magnum in parvo.- preserving always the laws
and duties of a firm friendship to my Lord of
Buckingham, whom I will never cease to love,
and to whom I have written already, but have not
heard yet from his lordship.
But, first, I have three suits to make to your
majesty, hoping well you will grant them all.
The first is. That if there be any merit in draw-
ing on that match, your majesty would bestow the
thanks not upon the zeal of Sir Edward Coke to
please your majesty, nor upon the eloquent persua-
sions or pragmaticals of Mr. Secretary Winwood,
but upon them that, carrying your commandments
and directions with strength and justice, in the
matter of the Governor of Diepe, in the matter
of Sir Robert Rich, and in the matter of protect-
ing the lady, according to your majesty's com-
mandment, have so humbled Sir Edward Coke,
as he seeketh now that with submission which
(as your majesty knoweth) before he rejected
with scorn : for this is the true orator that hath
persuaded this business, as I doubt not but your
majesty in your excellent wisdom doth easily
discern.
My second suit is. That your majesty would
not think me so pusillanimous, as that I, that
when I was but Mr. Bacon, had ever (through
your majesty's favour) good reason at Sir Edward
Coke's hands, when he was at the greatest,
should now that your majesty of your great good-
ness hath placed me so near your chair, (being as
I hope by God's grace, and your instructions,
made a servant according to your heart and hand,)
fear him or take umbrage of him, in respect of
mine own particular.
My third suit is. That if your majesty be
resolved the match shall go on, after you have
heard my reasons to the contrary, I may receive
therein your particular will and commandments
from yourself, that I may conform myself there-
unto, imagining with myself (though I will not
wager on women's minds) that I can prevail more
with the mother than any other man. For, if I
should be requested in it from my Lord of Bucking-
ham, the answers of a true friend ought to be.
That I had rather go against his mind than against
his good: but your majesty I must obey; and,
besides, I shall conceive that your majesty, out
of your great wisdom and depth, doth see those
things which I see not.
Now, therefore, not to hold your majesty with
many words, (which do but drown matter,) let
me most humbly desire your majesty to take into
your royal consideration, that the state is at this
time not only in good quiet and obedience, but in
good affection and disposition. Your majesty's
prerogative and authority having risen some just
degrees above the horizon more than heretofore,
which hath dispersed vapours : your judges arc in
good temper, your justices of peace (which is tlie
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
Tflf
bod) )f the gentleman of England) grow to be
loving and obsequious, and to be weary of the
humour of ruffling; all mutinous spirits grow to
be a little poor and to draw in their horns, and not
the less for your majesty's disauctorizing the man
I speak of. Now, then, I reasonably doubt, that
if there be but an opinion of his coming in with
the strength of such an alliance, it will give a
turn and relapse in men's minds into the former
state of things hardly to be holpen, to the great
weakening of your majesty's service.
Again, Your majesty may have perceived that,
as far as it was fit for me in modesty to advise, I
was ever for a Parliament, (which seemeth to me
to be cardo rcrum, or sumnia suinrnarum, for the
present occasions.) But this my advice was ever
conditional, that your majesty should go to a Par-
liament with a council united and not distracted ;
and that your majesty will give me leave never to
expect, if that man come in. Not for any differ-
ence of mine own, (for I am omnibus omnia for
your majesty's service,) but because he is by na-
ture unsociable, and by habit popular, and too old
now to take a new ply. And men begin already
to collect, yea, and to conclude, that he that raiseth
such a smoke to get in, will set all on fire when
he is in.
It may please your majesty, now I have said, I
have done : and, as I think I have done a duty not
unworthy the first year of your last high favour,
1 most humbly pray your majesty to pardon me,
if in any thing I have erred ; for, my errors shall
always be supplied by obedience ; and so I con-
clude with my prayers for the happy preservation
of your majesty's person and estate.
Your majesty's most humble, bounden,
and most devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
From Gorhambury,
this 25th of July, 1617.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKINGHAM.
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
I do think long to hear from your lordship,
touching my last letter, wherein I gave you my
opinion touching your brotlier's match. As I then
showed my dislike of the matter, so the carriage
of it here in the manner I dislike as much. If
your lordship think it is humour or interest in me
that leads me, God judge my sincerity. But, I
must say, that in your many noble favours to-
wards me, they ever moved and flowed from
yourself, and not from any of your friends what-
soever; and, therefore, in requital, give me leave
that my counsels to you again be referred to your
happiness, and not to the desire of any of your
friends. I shall ever give you, as I give my mas-
ver, safe counsel, and such as time will approve.
I rectived, yesterday, from Mr. Attorney, the
queen's bill, which I send your lordship. Tho
payment is not out of lands, but out of the cus-
toms, and so it can be but the rent. Your lerd
ship remembereth, it is but in a case which, 1
hope, shal. never be; that is, after his majesty's
death, if she survive. God ever bless and direct
you.
Your lordship's most faithful and
devoted friend and servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
Gorhambury, this
25thcf July, 1617.
TO THE EARL OF BRISTOL.
My very good Lord,
I now only send my best wishes, to follow you
at sea and land, with due thanks for your late
great favours. God knows whether the length
of your voyage will not exceed the size of my
hour-glass ; but whilst I live, my affection to do
you service shall remain quick under the ashes of
my fortune.
Sir, — In this solitude of friends, which is the
base court of adversity, where nobody, almost,
will be seen stirring, I have often remembered
this Spanish saying, ./Jw^or sin fin, no titne fin.
This bids me make choice of your friend and mine
for his noble succours; not now towards the as-
piring, but only the respiring of my fortunes. I,
who am a man of books, have observed, that he
hath both the magnanimity of the old Romans,
and the cordiality of the old English, and, withal,
I believe he hath the wit of both : sure I am, that,
for myself, I have found him in both my fortunes,
to esteem me so much above my just value, and
to love me so much above the possibility of de-
serving, or obliging on my part, as if he were a
friend created and reserved for such a time as this.
You know what I have to say to the great lord,
and I conceive it cannot pass so fitly to him, by
the mouth of any, as of this gentleman ; and
therefore do your best (which, I know, will be of
power enough) to engage him, both in the sub-
stance and to the secrecy of it ; for I can tliink of
no man but yourself to be used by me in this,
who are so private, so faithful, and so discreet a
friend to us both ; as, on the other side, I dare
swear he is, and know myself to be as true Id
you as your own heart.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
Yesterday, I know, was no day ; now I hope I
shall hear from your lordship, who are my anchc*
80
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
)u these floods. Meanwhile, to ease my heart, I
nave written to his majesty the enclosed,* whicli,
I pray your lordship, to read advisedly, and to
deliver it, or not to deliver it, as you think good.
God ever prosper your lordship.
Yours ever, &c.
Fk. St. Alban, Cane.
March 25, 1020.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKIxXGlIAM.
My tery good Lord,
Since my last to your lordship, I did first send
for Mr. Attorney-General, and made him know,
that since I heard from court, I was resolved to
further the match and the conditions thereof, for
your lordsliip's brother's advancement the best I
could. I did send, also, to my Lady Hatton, and
some other special friends, to let them know, I
would in any thing declare myself for the match ;
which I did, to the end that, if they had any
apprehension of my assistance, they might be dis-
couraged in it. I sent also to Sir John Butler,
md after by letter to my lady, your mother, to
tender my performance of any good office towards
the match or the advancement from the mother.
This was all I could think of for the present.
I did ever f )resee, that this alliance would go
near to leese me your lordship, that I hold so
dear; and that was the only respect particular to
myself that moved me to. be as 1 was, till I heard
from you. But I will rely upon your constancy
and nature, and my own deserving, and the firm
tie we have in respect of the king's service.
In the mean time I must a little complain to
your lordship, that I do hear my lady your mother
and your brother Sir John do speak of me with
some bitterness and neglect. I must bear with
the one as a lady, and the other as a lover, and
with both for your lordship's sake, whom I will
make judge of any thing they shall have against
me. But I hope, though I be a true servant to
your lordship, you will not have me to be a vassal
to their passions, specially as long as they are
governed by Sir Edward Coke and Secretary
Winwood, the latter of which I take to be the
worst; for Sir Edward Coke I think is more
modest and discreet. Therefore your lordsliip
shall do me right, and yet I shall take it for favour
if you signify to them that you have received sa-
tisfaction from me, and would have them use me
friendly, and in good manner. God keep us from
these long journeys and absence, which make
misunderstandings and give advantage to untruth,
and God ever prosper and preserve your lordship.
Your lordship's true and
devoted friend and servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
Uarbambury, this I3d of Aug. 1617.
• See p. as.
TO TI»F. EARL OF BUCKINGITAM.
Mr VERY GOOD liORD,
I send your lordship the certificate* touching
the enrolment of prentices. We can find no
ground for it by law. Myself shall ever be ready
10 further things that your lordship oommendeth ;
but where the matter will not bear it, your lord-
ship 1 know will think not the worse, but the bet-
ter of me, if I signify the true state of things
to your lordship ; resting ever
Your lordship's true friend
and devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
York House, this 29th of October, 1017.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
The liking which his majesty hath of our proceed-
ing, concerniiig his household, telleth me that his
majesty cannot but dislike the declining and ter-
giversation of the inferior officers, which by this
time he understandeth.
There be but four kinds of retrenchments : 1.
The union of tables ; 2. The putting down of
tables; 3. The abatement of dishes to tables ; 4,
The cutting off new diets and allowance lately
raised ; and yet perhaps such as are more neces-
sary than some of the old.
In my opinion the first is the best and most
feasible. The lord chamberlain's table is the
principal table of state. The lord steward's
table is much frequented by Scottish gentlemen.
Your lordship's table hath a great attendance ;
and the groom of the stole's table is much resort-
ed to by the bedchamber. These would not be
touched ; but for the rest, (his majesty's case con-
sidered,) I think they may well be united into
one.
These things are out of my element, hut my
care runneth where the king's state mostiaboureth :
Sir Lyonel Cranfield is yet sick, for which I am
very sorry ; for methinks his majesty, upon these
tossinsfs over of his business from one to others
♦ The Certificate .•—
According to his majesty's command, sisnified by your lord
shi|)'s letters, we have Jidvisedly considered of the petition
touching the enrolment of apprentices' indentures, and heard
the petitioners' counsel, and do find as followeth:
1. That the art of parliament 5° Eliz. iloth not warrant the
erecting of an office to enrol such indentures in cities, towns
corporate, or market towns. But if any such enrolment should
be, it must be by the orficers there, who are assigned to per-
form sundry other things touching apprentices and servants.
2. ThHtin country villages (for which the suit carries most
colour) we cannot give the suitors hope, that any profit will
be there made warrantable by law.
Thus we have (according to our duties) certified our o,pinioni
of this petition, submitting the same, nevertheless, to hi«
majesty's great wisdom ; and rest,
Oct. 25, 1617. At your lordshvp's command,
Fr. Bacon. C. S.
H. RIONTAOI'B.
Tho. Coventby.
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
81
haeh an apt occasion to go on with subcommittees,
God ever preserve and prosper you.
Your lordship's true friend
and devoted servant,
York House, Nov. 19, 1617. Fra. Bacon, C. S.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
Yesterday at afternoon were read at the table
his niiijesty's two letters, written with his own
hand, the matter worthy the hand ; for they were
written ex arte imperandi, if I can judge; and I
hope they and the like will disenchant us of the
opinion, which yet sticks with us, that to-day
will be as yesterday, and to-morrow as to-day, so
as there will be (as he saith) acribus initiis, fine
incur ioso.
I hold my opinion given in my former letter,
that the uniting of some tables is the most passa-
ble way ; but that is not all, for when that is
done, the king may save greatly in that which
remaineth. For if it be set down what tables
shall he fixed, and what diet allowed to them, my
steward (as ill a mesnager as I am,) or my Lord
Mayor's steward, can go near to tell what charge
will go near to maintain the proportion ; then add
to that some large allowance for waste (because
the king shall not leese his prerogative to be de-
ceived more than other men,) and yet no question
there will l)e a great retrenchment. But against
this last abatement will be fronted the payment
of arrears. But I confess, I would be glad that I
might see, or rather, that a parliament may see,
and chiefly that the king (for his own quiet) may
see, that upon such a sum paid such an annual
retrenchment will follow : for things will never
be done in act, except they be first done in
conceit.
I know these things do not pertain to me ; for
my part is to acquit the king's office towards God,
by administration of justice, and to oblige the
hearts of his people to him by the same, and to
maintain his prerogative. But yet because it is
in hoc, that the king's case laboureth, I cannot but
yield my care and my strength too in counsel,
such as it is, which cannot be so much as it was
between our Lady-day, and Michaelmas last.
But whatsoever it is, it is wholly his majesty's
without any deflexion.
As soon as I find any possibility of health in
Sir Lyonel Oanfield to execute a sub-commission,
1 will by conference with him frame a draught of
a letter from his majesty, for which there is the
fairest occasion in the world; and the king hath
prepared it as well as possible. God ever pre-
serve and prosper you.
Your lordship's true friend
and devoted servant,
York House, Nov. 22, 1617. Fr. BacON, C. S.-
Vol. IlL— II
TO THE EARL OF DUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I send your lordship a draught of a letter touch-
ing the sub-commission,* written in wide lines,
because it may be the better amended by his
majesty. I think it is so penned as none can ex-
cept to it, no, nor imagine any thing of it. For
the household-business there was given a fort-
night's day : for the pensions, the course which I
first propounded of abating of a third throughout,
and some wholly, seemeth well entered into.
These be no ill beginnings. But this course of
the sub-commission thrids all the king's business.
God ever preserve and prosper you.
Y^our lordship's true friend and devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
York House, 27th Nov. 161'/.
Sir Lyonel Cranfield is now reasonably well
recovered.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I thought fit by this, my private letter to your
lordship, to give you an account of such business
as your lordship hath recommended unto me,
that you may perceive that I have taken that care
of them I ought, and ever shall in those things
you recommend or remit to me.
For the suit of the ale-houses which concern-
eth your brother, Mr. Christopher Villiers, and
Mr. Patrick Mawle, I have conferred with my
lord chief justice and Mr. Solicitor thereupon, and
there is a scruple in it, that it should be one of
" Drauffht of the Suhcon
My Lords,
In this first and greatest branch of our charge concerning
our house we do find what difficulties are made, and what
time is lost, in disputing and of devising upon the manner of
doing it, whereof the matter must be, and is so fully resolved.
Neither can we but see in this, as in a glass, the like event to
follow in the rest upon like reason. For the infi rinr officers
in every kind, who are best able for skill to propound the re-
trenchments, will, out of interest or fearfulness, make dainty
to do service ; and that which is done with an ill-will will
never be well done. Again, to make it the act of the whole
table, for the particular propositions and reckonings, will be
too tedious for you, and will draw the business itself into
length; and to make any particular committees of yourselves
were to impose that upon a few which requireth to be carried
indiflierently as the act of you all. For since the great officers
themselves think it too heavy for them, as our state now is,
to deal in it, without bringing it to the table, with niucli more
reason may any particular persons of you be loath to meddle
in it, but at the board. In all which respects we have thought
fit, (neither do we see any other way,) that you send unto i;s
the names of the officers of our Exchequer and our Custom
House, and auditors out of which we will make choice of
some few, best qualified to be subcommittees, for the belter
ease and the speeding of the business by (heir continual
travails and meetings: whose part and employment we
incline to be to attend the principal officers in their several
charges, and join themselves to some of the inferior officern,
and so take upon them the mechanic and laborious part of
every business, thereby to facilitate and prepare it for your
consultations, according to the directions and instructiors
they shall receive from you from to time.
92
LETTERS FROM STEPFIENS.
the grievances put flown in parliament; which if
it be, I may not in my duty and love to you ad-
vise you to deal in it; if it be not, I will mould
It in the best manner and help it forward. The
stay is upon the search of the clerk of the parlia-
ment, who is out of town ; but we have already
found, that the last grievance in T"°- is not the same
with this suit; but we doubt yet of another in 3°-
For the business of Mr. Leviston, for your
lordship's sake (wlio I perceive keeps your noble
course with me, in acquainting me with these
things) I shall apply myself unto you, though in
my nature I do desire that those that serve in the
court where I sit, though they be not in places
of my gift, and so concerns not me. nor my place
in profit; yet I wish, I say, I might leave them
in as good case as I find them. And this suit
concerneth the main p::ao of the six clerks, who
though they be of the master of the rolls his gift,
yet they serve in my court. But my greatest
doubt is, that the grant cannot be good in law ;
and that it is not like those other precedents,
whereof I have received a note. For the differ-
ence is, where things have been written by all
the clerks indifferently and loosely, (in which
case the king may draw them into an office,) and
whervi .hey have appertained to one especial office ;
in which case the king can no more take away
the profits of a man's office than he can the pro-
fits of his land. Therefore, I think your lordship
may do well to write to Mr. Solicitor and Ser-
jeant Finch, or some other lawyers that you trust,
or such as Mr. Leviston trusteth, being persons of
account, to inform you of the point in law before you
proceed any further : for without that all is in vain.
For the business of Hawkyns, touching the
register for the commission of bankrupts, I am
not yet satisfied, likewise for the law, nor for the
conveniency, but I rather incline to think it may
pass; and I have set it in a course by which I
may be thoroughly informed.
For Sir Rowland Egerton's cause, and his
lady's, the parties have submitted themselves
unto me, and are content to do it by bond, and
therefore, I will undoubtedly make an end of it
according to justice and conscience.
For Sir Gilbert Houghton's business I am in
very good hope to effect your lordship's desire for
his good.
For Moore's business, concerning the printing
of books, after hearing all parties, I have sealed
bis patent; hut for his former patent of salt I
dare not do it without acquainting the council
therewith, which I am ready to do, if he require
" that course to be taken.
If his majesty at any time ask, touching the
Lord Clifton's business, I pray your lordship
represent to his majesty thus much, that whatso-
ever hath passed I thank God I neither fear him
nor hate him; but I am wonderful careful of the
•eat of justice, that they may still be well muni
ted, being principal sinews of his majesty's aa-
thorily. Therefore the course will be (as I am
advised) that for this heinous misprison (that the
party without all colour or shadow of cause should
threaten the life of his judge, and of the highest
judge of the kingdom next his majesty) he be
first examined, and if he confess it, then an ore
fenus ; if he confess it not, then an information in the
Star Chamber, and he to remuiu where he is till
the hearing. But I do purposely forbear yet lo
have him examined till the decree or agreemei.t
between him and my Lord Aubigny (which is
now ready) be perfected, lest it should seem an
oppression by the terror of the one to beat him
down in the other. Thus I ever rest
Your lordship's true friend and devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon, Cane.
York House, Jan. 25lti, 1617.
I pray your lordship to pardon me, if, in respect
of a little watering in one of mine eyes, I have
written this letter, being long and private busi-
ness, in my secretary's hand.
to the king.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
Finding as well by your majesty's despatches
and directions to your council, as now by speech
with Mr. Secretary Laque, that your majesty is
content to be troubled with business of sundry
natures, I thought good, according to the duty of
my place and the necessity of the occasion, to put
your majesty in mind, that on this day sennight,
being Friday in the morning, I am, according to
custom, to give a charge and admonition to the
judges and justices of peace now before the cir-
cuits, wherein I am humbly to crave your ma-
jesty's pleasure and directions.
I have for your majesty's better ease set down
the heads, which by the prescript of your book,
and out of the consideration of the present times,
I have thought fittest to be remembered. I have
also sent your majesty the last account of the
judges' circuits, not to trouble you with the read-
ing of them all ; but to the end, that if upon my
memorial, or otherwise out of your majesty's own
memory which is above memorials, you should
have occasion to resort to those accounts, the
papers may be by j^ou.
The point of greatest weight in my opinion is
! the carrying of a balanced hand at this time in
: the matter of recusants, in regard of the treaty
I with Spain. For it were good in respect of your
I people, Ihat there were no note made, that the
1 string is relaxed, and in respect of the treaty,
that it is not strained: and therefore the proceed-
j ing in those causes be rather diligent than severe.
! I am wonderful glad to hear that this extremity
of weather, which 1 think the Muscovite hath
brought with him, hath not touched your majesty.
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
83
•whose health and ease is far dearer to me than my
life, with all the appurtenances. God ever pre-
serve and prosper you.
Your majesty's most faithful and
most obliged servant,
Fr. Bacon, Cane.
This Friday morning,
ihe lilh of February, 1G17.
Yiiur majesty will be pleased your answer be
with rce on. Thursday at noon, or soon after it.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
Mr. Chancellor of the Exchequer hath signi-
fied to me, this day, that yesterday his majesty
called him to his coach and said to him, that one
that had used ill speech of me should be called
before me and make his submission to me, and,
thereupon be called before the council and receive
a sharp reprehension, and so be enlarged. And
Mr. Chancellor could not tell me who the person
was, but after, by some letter he received from
my Lord Clifton, and speech with a man of his,
he perceived it was he.
I pray your lordship, in humbleness, to let his
majesty know that I little fear the Lord Clifton,
but I much fear the example, that it will animate ruf-
fians and rodomonti, extremely, against the seats
of justice, (which are his majesty's own seats)
yea, and against all authority and greatness, if
this pass without public censure and example, it
having gone already so far as that the person of a
baron hath been committed to the Tower. The
punishment it may please his majesty to remit,
and I shall not formally but heartily intercede for
him, but an example (setting myself aside) I
wish for terror of persons that may be more dan-
gerous than he, towards the least judge of the
kingdom.
Therefore, it may please his majesty to speak
of it with myself and my lords when he cometh
next ; and in the mean time I will command from
his majesty, the master of the rolls and Mr. At-
torney, who were appointed by the table to exa-
mine him, to stay. God ever prosper you.
Your lordship's true friend
and devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon, Cane.
March 17, 1617.
Secondly, The warrant (as is acknowledged)
came only from my Lord of Suffolk, and not from
Mr. Chancellor, and yet my lord was wont to
boast, that since he was treasurer, all commissions
and contracts for sale of the king's lanu w°re
broken off and ceased.
Thirdly, The rate of the moneys paid by the
gentlemen, amounteth to but thirteen year's pur-
chase, which is a plain gift of a good pror.,-'ion
of value.
If his majesty, now informed, iterate his man-
date, it is done, and I excuse ; but I could wish
his majesty would refer it to the commissioners
of the treasury how the gentlemen may be other-
wise satisfied.
I received, yesternight, a brave account of the
commission of the wards in Ireland, which, this
one year, is advanced from two hundred pounds
per annum to four thousand pounds, which is
twenty fold multiplied. This I write for two
reasons. First, because I glory in it, because it
was my work wholly: next, because his majesty
may take occasion by this to look l)etter to the
improvement of his wards in England in due
time. God ever preserve and prosper you.
Your Lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
York House,
July 27, 1618.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I pray your lordship to signify to his majesty
that I thought it my duty to stay at the seal, a
book of Sir Francis Steward's and Sir James
Averlony, &c., of £200 land in charge in fee sim-
ple : my reasons.
First, It is a perpetuity, and so much rent in
diminution of '■evenue certain.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I am very glad to hear of the honour his majesty
intendeth to my noble lady, your lordship's mother.
This, amongst many other things, showeth, in
your lordship, good nature, which is the root of
all virtues, next religion. Besides, it doth sort
well in states, when place and power do meet,
and stand not too far at distance.
For the passing of it by direction without bill
signed, it cannot be in law. So is Mr. Attorney's
opinion, and so is mine ; and, therefore, there is
presently a bill sent with an endorsement of pass-
ing it by immediate warrant, and this antedate.
For the antedate, I must present his majesty
with my caution, and with my obedience.
For the statute tieth me from antedates; and,
indeed, the mischief is infinite : for, by that means
the king may grant any land, &c., and take it
away a month hence, and grant it another by an
antedate. And, surely, were it land or the like, I
would not say absit, or your majesty cannot do it
for the world ; or your majesty is sworn, and I axa
sworn ; or such brave phrases : but, surely, (I say)
I would in humbleness represent it to his majesty
But the case of honour differeth; for, therein
his majesty's prerogative and declaration is abso-
lute, and he may make him that )« last to be firs^.
And, therefore, upon his majesty's significatiou
84
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
of his pleasure upon the endorsement of the bill
signed, I take it 1 may lawfully do it.
I am here rejoicing with my neighbours, the
townsmen of St. Albans, for this happy day, the
5th of August, 1618.
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
f!o:'iambury.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
Mv VERY GOOD Lord,
I thank your lordship for your last loving letter.
1 now write to give the king an account of the
patent I have stayed at the seal. It is of licence
to give in mortmain eight hundred pounds land,
though it be in tenure in chief to Allen, that was
the player, for an hospital.
I like well that Allen playeth the last act of his
life so well ; but if his majesty give way thus to
n-mortize his tenures, his courts of wards will
decay, which I had well hoped should improve.
But that which moved me chiefly is, that his
majesty now lately did absolutely deny Sir Henry
Savile for two hundred pounds, and Sir Edwin
Sandys for one hundred pounds, to the perpetuat-
ing of two lectures, the one in Oxford, the other in
Cambridge, foundations of singular honour to his
majesty, (the best learned of kings,) and of which
there is great want ; whereas, hospitals abound,
and beggars abound never a whit the less.
If his majesty do like to pass the book at all ;
yet if he would be pleased to abridge the eight
hundred pounds to five hundred pounds, and then
give way to the other two books for the Univer-
sity, it were a princely work. And I would make
an humble suit to the king, and desire your lord-
ship to join in it, that it might be so. God ever
preserve and prosper you.
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
York House, this
18th of August, 1618.
I have written to my Lord Chamberlain, being
Chancellor of Oxford, to help in the business.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
M-v VERY GOO J Lord,
Looking for matter of service, I have found out
z. fuit for myself, and it is proper for me more
than all men, because it is within the accompt of
the hanaper. But I have made a law to myself,
thai I will never beg any thing, which shall not
br ng a gain to the king; therefore, my suit is to
Ibrm the profits of the alienations, yielding a
thousand pounds a year more to the king than
hath been yielded communibus annts, by a medium
of seven years. If the king be pleased to grant
me this, it will a little warm the honour he hath
given me ; and I shall have a new occasion to be
as I ever have been, and shall be
Your lordship's obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
York House,
October Qth, 1618.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
This morning Mr. Attorney came to me and
desired of me many writs of ne exeat regniim
against most of the Dutch merchants, and withal
let me understand that there was a discovery of
an infinite transportation of ^Id and silver out
of this realm, by the said Dutch merchants,
amounting to millions ; and that Sir John Britten
had made a book thereof, and presented the same
to his majesty; and further that his majesty had
directed him to prosecute the same; and had also
given to Sir Thomas Vavisor the forfeiture of
such ten of them as he should choose.
Hereupon, I thought it my duty, as in a matter
of great weight, to signify to his majesty, by your
lordship, what I conceive.
The discovery I think very happy : for, if it be
true, it will be a great benefit to his majesty; it
will also content his people much, and it will
demonstrate also that Scotland is not the leech
(as some discoursers say,) but the Netherlanders
that suck the realm of treasure ; so that the thing
is very good.
But, two things I must represent to his ma-
jesty: the first, that if I stay merchants from
their trading by this writ, I must do it either ex
nfficio, or by special warrant from his majesty.
If ex officio, then 1 must have more than a bare
surmise to grant the writ upon, so as I must be
acquainted with the grounds, or at least appear-
ance of proofs. If by special warrant, then I
desire to receive the same. The other is that I
humbly beseech his majesty that these royal
boughs of forfeiture may not be vintaged, or
cropped by private suitors, (considering his ma-
jesty's state as it is,) but that Sir Thomas Viva-
sor or Sir John Brittaiu may have a bountiful and
gracious reward of their discovery, but not the
prime, or without stint.
In sum, I would wish his majesty to refer the
whole business and carriage of the same for his
honour and profit to the commissioners of trea-
sure, or because it is alegal forfeiture to myself, Mr.
Chancellor, Sir Edward Coke, and my Lord Chief
Justice of England, and by us his majesty shall
j be assured to know the best cause for his justice,
honour, and profit, and that he may dispose what
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
8{>
bounty he will. God ever preserve and prosper
you.
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
York House,
October 19, 1018.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
This long book which I send for his majesty's
siornature, was upon a conference and consult
yesternight, (at which time I was assisted by the
two chief justices, and attended by the surveyor,
attorney, and receiver of the court of wards, Fleet-
wood,) framed and allowed.
It is long, because we all thought fit not to
piece new instructions with old instructions, but
to reduce both old and new into one body of in-
structions. I do not see that of the articles, which
are many, any could have been spared. They are
plain, but they have a good property, that they
will take fast hold. I may not trouble his majesty
with choosing some of them in particular, when
all are good, only I think fit to let his majesty
know of one, which is, that according to his own
directions, the oath of making no private unlaw-
ful profit is now as well translated to the master
and officers that may take, as to the parties and
suitors that may give.
It little becometh me to possess his majesty
that this will be to his majesty's benefit ten
thousands yearly, or fifteen tliousands, or twenty
thousands; for those rattles are fitter for mounte-
banks of service than grave counsellors. But
ny advices (as far as I am able to discern) tend
or extend but to thus much: this is his majesty's
surest and easiest may for his most good.
Sir Miles Fleetwood, who both now and hereto-
fore, hath done very good service in this, meriteth
to be particularly from your lordship encouraged :
which I beseech your lordship not to forget. God
ever prosper you.
Your lordship's most faithful
bounden friend and servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
This 4th of
December, 1618.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I send his majesty a volume of my Lord of
Bangor's and my Lord Sheffield, whereof I spake
when I left his majesty at Theobald's. His ma-
jesty may be pleased at his own good time and
pleasure to cast his eye upon it. I purpose at my
coming to London to confer with the chief justice
as his majesty appointed • an ' to put the business
of the pursuivanto in a way, which I think will
be best by a commission of Oyer and Terminer ;
for the Star Chamber (without confession) is long
seas. I should advise that this point of the
pursuivants were not single, but that it be coupled
in the commission with the offences of keepers
of prisons hereabouts, it hath a great affinity ; for
pursuivants are but ambulatory keepers, and it
works upon the same party (of the Papists.) And
it is that wherein many of his majesty's and the
council's severe charges have been hitherto un-
fruitful : and it doth a great deal of mischief. I
have some other reasons for it. But of this it
will be fittest to advertise more particularly what
I have resolved of on advice, upon conference
with the chief justice. I am wonderful prjad to
hear of the king's good health. God preserve
his majesty and your lordship. I ever rest
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
Gorhambury, this last
of July, 1619.
to the marquis of buckingham.
My very good Lord,
I think it my duty to let his majesty know
what I find in this cause of the ore ttniis .- for as
his majesty hath good experience, that when his
business comes upon the stage, I carry it with
strength and resolution, so in the proceedings, I
love to be wary and considerate.
I wrote to your lordship by my last, that I
hoped by the care I had taken, the business would
go well, but without that care, I was sure it
would not go well : this I meant, because I had
had conference with the two chief justices, Sir
Edward Coke being present, and handled the
matter so, that not without much ado, I left
both the chief justices firm to the cause and
satisfied.
But calling to mind that in the main business,
notwithstanding I and the chief justices went one
way, yet the day was not good, (and I should be
loath to see more of such days,) I am not with-
out some apprehension ; for though we have Sir
Edw^ard Coke earnest and forward, insomuch as
he advised the ore tenus, before I knew it at
VVansted, and now bound the Dutchmen over to
the Star Chamber, before I was made privy;
unto both which proceedings, I did nevertheless
give approbation : yet if there should be either
the major part of the votes the other way, or anv
main distraction, though we bear it through, 1
should think it a matter full of inconvenience,
but that which gives me most to think is the
carriage of Mr. Attorney, which sorteth neithe*
with the business nor with himself; for as I hear
from divers, and partly perceive, he is fallen frooj
H
86
LETTERS FRUM STEPHExXS.
earnest to be cool and faint; which weakness, if
It should make the like alteration at the bar, it
might overthrow the cause ; all the remedy which
IS in my power, is by the advice of the judges to
draw some other of the learned counsel to his
help, which he, I know, is unwilling with, but
that is all one.
This I thought it necessary to write, lest the
ving should think me asleep, and because I know
that his majesty's judgment is far better than
rr.ine. But I, for my part, mean to go on roundly ;
and so 1 ever rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful Soivant,
Fh. VerulaM; Cane.
CcioberSth, 1619.
If the king, in his great wisdom, should any
ways incline to have the ore tenus put off, then
the way were to command that the matter of the
ore tenus should be given in evidence, by way of
aggravation, in the main cause. And it is true,
that if this precursory matter goeth Avell, it
giveth great entrance into the main cause ; if ill,
contrariwise, it will do hurt and disadvantage to
the main.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
These things which I write now and hereto-
fore, in this cause, I do not write so as any can
take knowledge that I write; but I despatch
things ex officio here, and yet think it fit, inward-
ly, to advertise the king what doth occur. And
I do assure your lordship, that if I did serve any
king whom 1 did not think far away wiser than
myself, I would not write in the midst of busi-
ness, but go on of myself.
This morning, notwithstanding my speech
yesterday with the duke, he delivered this letter
enclosed, and I having cleared the room of all
save the court and learned counsel, (whom
I required to stay,) the letter was read a
little before our hour of sitting. When it
was read, Mr. Attorney began to move that
my lord should not acknowledge his offences
as he conceived he had committed them, but
as they were charged; and some of the lords
speaking to that point, I thought fit to interrupt,
and divert that kind of question; and said,
be^oTe we considered of the extent of my lord's
euiunission, we were first to consider of the
extent of our own duty and power; for that I
conceived it was neither fit for us ^^ stay pro-
-,eeding, nor to move his majesty in that, which
was before us in course of justice; unto which,
fbeing once propounded by me,) all the lords
and the rest, una voce assented. I would not so
nmcr. aa ask the question whether, though
we proceed, I should send the letter to his ma-
jesty, because I would not straiten his majesty in
any thing.
The evidence went well, (I will not say I
sometimes helped it as far as was fit for a judge,)
and at the arising of the court, I moved their
lordships openly, whether they would not con-
tinue this cause from day to day till it were
ended ; which they thought not fit, in regard of
the general justice, which would be delayed in
all courts: yet afterwards within I prevailed so
far, as we have appointed to sit Wednesday,
Thursday, and Friday, and to sit by eight of the
clock, and so to despatch it before the king come,
if we can. God preserve and prosper you. I
ever rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
This 22d of October,
Friday, at 4 of the
oxlock, 1619.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I do not love to interlope by writing in the
midst of business; but because his majesty
commanded me to acquaint him with any occur-
rence which might cross the way, I have thought
fit to let his majesty know what hath passed
this day.
This day, (which w^as the day set down,) the
great cause of the Dutchmen was entered into.
The pleading being opened, and the case stated
by the counsel, the counsel of the defendants
made a motion to have certain examinations
taken, concerning the old defendants suppres-
sed, because they were taken since the last
hearing.
I set the business in a good way, and showed
they were but supplemental, and that at the last
hearing, there were some things extrajudicial
alleged, ad injimandum conscitntiam judicis, and
therefore there was more reason these should be
used, ad ivformandum conscicntiam judtcis, and
that there was order for it. The order was
read, and approved by both the court and the
defendant's own counsel; but it was alleged,
1 that the order was not entered time enough,
whereby the defendants might likewise examine,
I wherein certainly there was some slip or forget-
j fulness in Mr. Attorney, or Britten, that followed
it, which I wish had been otherwise, yet it went
fair out of the court.
i But after dinner my lords were troubled with
'. it, and after much dispute, we have agreed to
confer silently, and sine strepitu to-morrow, and
set all straight, calling the judges and the learned
counsel, with whom 1 have spoken this evening, 1
think to good purpose. For in good faith I am fain
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
87
to be onniibus oninto, as St. Paul saith, to set for-
ward his majesty's service.
I discern a kind of inclination to take hold of
all accidents to put off the cause, whereunto
neither I shall give way, nor I hope his majesty ;
tu-morrow, if cause be, I shall write more, but
I hope all shall be well. I ever rest
"i jur lordship's most oblirred
friend and faithful servant,
Fk. Verulam, Cane.
Friday night, 19th November, l(il9.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
I have conferred with Sir Lyonel Cranfield,
according to his majesty's special commandment,
touching two points of value, for the advance-
ment (the one present, the other speedy) of his
majesty's revenue.
The first is of the corans, to restore the imposi-
tion of five shillings and sixpence, laid in the late
queen's time, and drawn down unduly, to serve
private turns, to three shillings and four pence,
which will amount to above three thousand pounds
yearly increase.
The other is of the tobacco, for which there is
offered two thousand pounds increase yearly, to
begin at Michaelmas next, as it now is, and three
thousand pounds increase if the plantations of
tobacco here within land be restrained.
I approve, in mine own judgment, both propo-
sitions, with these cautions : That for the first,
the farmers of the corans do, by instrument under
their seal, relinquish to the king all their claiir
thereto, by any general words of their patent.
And for the second, that the bargain be concluded
and made before the proclamation go forth ; where-
in, perhaps, there will occur some doubt in law,
because it restraineth the subject in the employ-
ment of his freehold at his liberty. But being so
many ways pro bono publico, I think it good
enough.
His majesty may, therefore, be pleased to write
his letter to the commissioners of the treasury,
signifying his majesty's pleasure directly in both
points, to have them done, and leaving to us the
consideration de modo. God ever prosper you.
I rest your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
November 22, 1619.
business of your majesty's attorney-general, both
for the satisfying your own honour, as also ^o'
calling in the late exorbitant charter of the city ;
which are the two ends, as we conceive, that your
majesty proposed unto yourself.
To effect both which, we humbly presuaie to
present thus much unto your majesty as our opi-
nion. First, That an information be put into the
Star Chamber, as we formerly advised, against
your attorney as delinquent, against the mayor,
&c., as interested, and against the recorder also
mixedly with some touch of charge.
That the submission by letter offered by Mr.
Attorney is no way satisfactory for your majesty's
honour, but is to be of record by way of answer,
and deduced to more particulars.
That any submission or surrender of the patents
by the city should be also of record in their an-
swer ; and no other can be received with your
majesty's honour, but by answer in court : the
same to come merely of themselves, without any
motion on your majesty's behalf, directly or in-
directly; which being done in this form, it will
be afterwards in your majesty's choice and plea-
sure to use mercy, and to suspend any farther
proceedings against your attorney.
That it is of necessity, as well for the putting
in of this information, as for your majesty's other
urgent and public services in that and other
courts, to have a sequestration presently of your
attorney, and a provisional commission to some
other, during your majesty's pleasure, to execute
that charge : for both which instruments legal
shall be provided as soon as your majesty's plea
sure is known. To which we humbly and duti-
fully submit our advice and opinion, beseeching
God to bless your majesty's sacred person with
continuance and increase of much health and hap-
piness. Wherewith, humbly kissing your royal
hands, we rest
Your majesty's most humble and
faithful subjects and servants,
Fr. Verulam. Cane.
Robert Naunton,
Jul. C^sar,
T. Arundel,
Geo. Calvert,
Edw. Cokk
At your majesty's palace at
Whitehall, June 16, 16:0.
TO THE KING.
It may pleask your most excellent Majesty,
According to your commandment, we met to-
gether yesterday at Whitehall, and there consulted
what course were fittest to be taken now in this
to the marquis of BUCKINGHAM
My very good Lord,
I have lately certified his majesty on thebehalt
of Sir George Chaworth, by Secretary Calvert,
touching the place of a remembrancer in thtj
Chancery for setting down of causes. And be-
cause the gentleman tellelb me the king thought
i my certificate a little doubtful, he desired m« to
88
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
vrn'e to your lordship, touching my approbation
more plainly. It is true that I conceive it to be
a good business, and will be for the service of the
court and ease of the subject ; I will look it shall
De accompanied with orood cautions.
Ws ruflle over business here in council apace,
and I think to reasonable good purpose. By my
next I will write of some fit particulars. I ever
rest
Your most obliged friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
21 June, 1020.
to the marquis of buckingham.
My very good Lord,
Yesterday I called unto us the two chief justices
and Serjeant Crew about the Parliament business.
To call more judges I thought not good, it would
be little to assistance, much to secrecy : the dis-
tribution of the business we made was into four
parts.
First, The perusing of the former grievance,
and of things of like nature which have come in
since.
Secondly, The consideration of a proclamation
with the clauses thereof, especially touching elec-
tions, which clauses, nevertheless, we are of opi-
nion, should be rather monitory than exclusive.
Thirdly, The inclusive : that is to say, what
persons were fit to be of the House, tending to
make asufTicient and well composed House of the
ablest men of the kingdom, fit to be advised with
circa ardua regni, as the style of the writs goeth,
according to the pure and true institution of a
Parliament ; and of the means to place such per-
sons without novelty or much observation. For
this purpose we made some lists of names of the
prime counsellors, and principal statesmen or
courtiers, of the gravest or wisest lawyers, of
the most respected and best tempered knights
and gentlemen of the county. And here obiter
we did not forget to consider who were the
buutefeus of the last session, how many of them
are dead, how many reduced, and how many
remain, and what was fit to be done concerning
them.
Fourthly, The having ready of some common-
wealth bills that may add respect and acknow-
ledgment of the king's care ; not wooing bills to
make the king and his graces cheap, but good
matter to set them on work, that an empty stomach
do not feed upon humour.
Of these four points, that which concerneth
persons is not so fit to be communicated with the
council table, but to be kept within fewer hands.
Tlie other three may when they are ripe.
Meanwhile I thought good to give his majesty
«n account what is done, and in doing, humbly
craving his direction if any thing be to be altered
or added, though it may be ourselves siiall have
second thoughts, this being but the result of our
first meeting.
The state of his majfsty's treasure still makcth
me sad ; and I am sorry I was not at Theobald's
to report it, or that it was not done by my fellow :
it is most necessarily we do it faithfully and freely.
For to flatter in this were to betray his majesty
with a kiss. I humbly pray his majesty to think
of my former counsel, and this I will promise, that
whomsoever his majesty shall make treasurer, if
his majesty shall direct him to have relation to
my advice, I will continue the same care and
advice I do now, and much more cheerfully when
I shall perceive that my propositions shall not be
literw scriptx in irlacie.
Meanwhile, to keep the commission in doing
of somewhat worth the doing, it may please his
majesty to take knowledge that, upon our report,
we had agreed to make remonstrance to him, that
we thought Ireland might (if his majesty leave it
to our care) be brought by divers good expedients
to bear their own charge; and, therefore, his
majesty may be pleased, by his commandment,
to set us in hand with it out of hand. God ever
prosper you.
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
October 7, 1620.
TO SIR HENRY WOTTON.
My very good Cousin,
The letter which I received from your lordship
upon your going to sea was more than a compen-
sation for any former omission ; and I shall be
very glad to entertain a correspondence with you
in both kinds which you write of: for the latter,
I am now ready for you, having sent you some
ore of that mine. I thank you for your favours
to Mr. Meautys, and I pray continue the same.
So, wrshing you out of your honourable exile,
and placed in a better orb, I rest
Your lordship's affectionate kinsman
and assured friend,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
York House, October 20, 1620.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKIXGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I send his majesty a form of a proclamation*
for the Parliament, which I thought fit to offer
* Draught of a Proclamation for a Parliament :—
As in our princely judgment, we hold nothing more worthy
of a Christian monarch than the conservation of peace at
home and abroad ; whereby effusion of Christian blood and
other calamities of war are avoided , 'rade is kept open ; lawi
and justice retain "^eir due vigour apd play ; arts and sciences
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
89
!irf»t to Lis majesty's perusal before I acquainted how easy it is for me to mistake, or nr t to aitain,
the counsel.
For that part which concerneth the foreign
business, his majesty will graciously consider
flourish; giihjpct 9 are less burdened with taxes and t<illagp8,aiid
infinite othir tienefits redound to the state of a commonweal :
fo ill our practice, we supiiose there h;ith l)een seldom any
liinjf that hath given more express testimonies and real
pledRes of tliis desire to have peace conserved than we have
d<uie in the whole course of our regiment.
For neither have we, for that which concerns ourselves,
been ready to apprehend or embrace any occasions or oppor-
tunities of making war upon our neighbours; neither have
we omitted, for that which 'nay concern tlie states abroad,
any good office or royal endeavour, for the quenching of the
sparks of troubles and discords iu foreign parts. Wherein,
as we have been always ready and willing, so we wish that
we had been always as happy and prevailing in our advices
and counsels that tended to that end.
And yet do we not forget that God hath put into our hands
a sceptre over populous and warlike nations, which might
have moved us to second the affection and disposition of our
people, and to have wrought upon it, for our own ambition,
if we had been so minded. But it hath sufficed unto us to
seek a true and not swelling greatness in the plantations and
improvements of such part of our dominions as have in
former times been more desolate and uncivil, and in the
maintaining of all our loving subjects in general, in tranquil-
lity and sec\irity, and the otlier conditions of good govern-
ment and happy times. But amongst other demonstrations
of our constant purpose and provident care to maintain peace,
there was never such a trial, nor so apparent to the world (as
in a theatre) as our persisting in the same resolution, since
:he time that our dear son-in-law was elected and accepted
King of Bohemia ; by how much the motives tending to shake
and assail our said resolution were the more forcible. For
neither did the glory of having our dearest daughter and son-
in-law to wear a crown, nor the extreme alacrity of our
people devoted to that cause, nor the representations, which
might be set before us of dangers, (if we should suffer a party
in Christendom, held commonly adverse and ill affected to
our state and government, to gather further reputation and
strength,) trans^jort us to enter into an auxiliary war in prose-
cution of thatquarrel: but, contrariwise, findingthe justice of
the cause not so clear as that we could be presently therein
satisfied, and weighing with ourselves likewise, that if the
kingdom of Bohemia had continued in the house of Austria ;
yet, nevertheless, the balance of Christendom had stood in
no other sort than it had done for many years before without
increase of party ; and chiefly fearing that the wars in those
parts of Germany, which have been hitherto the bulwark of
Christendom against the approaches of the Turk, might, by
the intestine dissensions, allure and let in the common
enemy, we did abstain to declare, or engage ourselves in that
war, and were contented only to give permission to the am-
bassador of our son-in-law, to draw some voluntary helps of
men and money from our subjects, being a matter that
violated no treaty, and could not be denied in case of so near
a conjunction.
But, while we contained ourselves in this moderation, we
find the event of war hath much altered the case, by the late
invasion of the Palatinate, whereby (howsoever under the
pretence of a diversion) we find our son, in fact, expulsed in
part, and in danger to be totally dispossessed of his ancient
Inheritance and patrimony, so long continued in that noble
'.ine; whereof we cannot but highly resent, if it should be
alienated and ravished from him in our times, and to the pre-
judice of our grandchildren and line royal. Neither can we
think it saf ■ for us, in reason of state, that the county Pala-
tine, carrying with itself an electorate, and having been so
long in the hands of princes of our religion, and no way de-
pending upon the house of Austria, should now become at the
disposing of that house; being a matter, that indeed might
alter the balance of Christendom importantly, to the weaken-
ing of our state, and the estate of our best friends and con-
federates.
Wherefore, finding a concurrence of reasons and respects
of reliirion, nature, honour, and estate, all of them inducing
UB m no wise to endure so great an alteration, we are resolved
Vol. 111.-12
which his majesty in his wisdom will pardon,
correct, and direct.
For that part touching the elections, 1 have
to employ the uttermost of our force* and means to recova
and resettle the said Palatinate to our son and our descendants,
purposing, nevertheless, according to our former inclination
so well grounded, not altogether to intermit (if the occasionit
give us leave) the treaties of peace and accord, whii h we
have already begun, and whereofthe coming on of ine winter,
and the counterpoise of the actions of war, hitherto may giv»
us as yet some appearance of hope.
But, forasmuch as it were great improvidence to depend
upon the success of such treaties, and therefore good policy
requires that we should be prepared for a war, which we
intend for the recovery and assuring of the said Palatinate,
with the dependencies, (a design of no small charge and diffi-
culty,the strength and cotijuncturesof the adverse party con-
sidered,) we have thought good to take into our princely and
serious consideration (and that with speed) all things that
may have relation to such a designment ; amongst which we
hold nothing more necessary than to confer and advise with
the common council of our kingdom, upon this so important a
subject.
For although the making of war or peace be a secret of
empire, and a thing properly belonging to our high preroga-
tive royal and imperial power ; yet, nevertheless, in causes of
that nature, which we shall think fit not to reserve, but to
communicate, we shall ever think ourselves much assisted
and strengthened uy the faithful advice and general assent
of our loving subiec*"
Moreover, no man is so ignorant as to t;y,,iect that we
should be any ways able (moneys being the sinews of war)
to enter into the list against so great potentates, without
some large and bountiful help of treasure from our people, as
well towards the maintenance of the war as toAvards the
relief of our crown and estate. Ant this th.- rather, for thai
we have now, by the space of full ten years (a thing unheard
of in late times) subsisted by our own means, witliout being
chargeable to our people, otherwise than by some voluntary
gifts of some particulars; which, though in total amounting
to no great matter, we thankfully acknowledge at iheir
hands : but as, while the affairs abroad were iti greater calm,
we liM content ourselves to recover our wants by provident
retrenchment of charge, and honourable improvement of our
own, thinking to wear them out without troubling our people ;
so, in such a state of Christendom, as seemeth now to hang
over our heads, we d\irst no longer rely upon those slow
remedies, but thought necessary (according to tlie ancient
course of our progenitors) to resort lO the good affections and
aids of our loving subjects.
Upon these considerations, and for that also in respect of
so long intermission of a Parliament, the times may have
introduced some things fit to be reformed, either by new
laws, or by the moderate desires of our loving subjects, duti-
fully intimated unto us, (wherein we shall ever be no less
ready to give them all gracious satisfaction than their own
hearts can desire,) we have resolved, by the advice of our
privy council, to hold a Parliament at our city of Westmin-
ster.
And because, as well this great cause, (there to be handled
amongst the rest, and to be weighed by the beam of the king-
dom,) as also the true and ancient institution of Parliament,
do require the T.ower House (at this time if ever) to be coni
pounded of the gravest, ablest, and worthiest members that
may be found : we do hereby, out of the care of ihe common
good, wherein themselves are participant, (without all preju
dice to the freedom of elections,) admonish all our loving
subjects (that have votes in the elections of knights and
burgesses) of these few points following.
First, That they cast their eyes upon the worthiest men of
all sorts, knights and gentlemen, that are lights and guides in
their countries, experienced Parliament men, wise and dis-
creet statesmen, that have been practised in public affairs,
whether at home or abroad ; grave and eminent lawyer*,
substantial citizens and burgesses, and generally such a« aio
interested and have portion in the estate.
Secondly, That they make choice of such a« are weJl
affected in religion, without declining either on the one hand
h2
90
LETTERS FROM STEPIIEXJ*.
eommunicated it with my colleagues, Sir Edward
Coke, the two chief ji slices, and Serjeant Crew,
who approve it well ; and we are all of opinion,
that it is not good to have it more peremptory,
more particular, nor more sharp.
We are thinking of some commonwealth laws,
amongst which I would have one special for the
maintenance of the navy, as well to give occasion
to publish (to his majesty's honour) what hath
been already done; as, to speak plainly, to do
your lordship's honour in the second place; and,
besides, it is agreeable to the times. God ever
prosper you.
Your lordship's obliged friend and faithful
servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
October 18, 1620.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My VERY GOOD Lord,
Your lordship will pardon me, if, partly in the
freedom of adversity, and partly of former friend-
ship, (the sparks whereof cannot but continue,)
I open myself to your lordship and desire also
your lordship to open yourself to me. The two
last acts which you did for me, in procuring the
releaseinent of my fine, and my quietus est, I ac-
knowledge were effects, real and material, of
3'our love. and favour, which, as to my knowledge,
it never failed me in my prosperity ; so, in these
two things it seems not to have turned with the
wheel. But the extent of these two favours is
not much more than to keep me from persecution ;
for any thing further which might tend to my
comfort and assistance, as I cannot say to myself
that your lordship hath forsaken me, so I see not
the effects of your undeserved, yea, undesired
professions and promises, which, being made to
a person in affliction, hath the nature after a sort
of vows. But that which most of all makes me
doubt of a change, or cooling in your lordship's
aflTection towards me, is, that being twice now at
Ijondon, your lordship did not vouchsafe to see
me, though by messages you gave me hope there-
•o blindness and superstition, or on the other hand to schism
or turbulent disposition.
Thirdly and lastly, That they he truly sensible, not to dis-
value or disparage the House with bankrupts and necessitous
persons, that may desire Ion? Parliaments only for protec-
tion; lawyers of mean account and estimation ; young men
t^iat are not ripe for grave consultations; mean dependents
uoon great persons, that may be thought to have their voices
under command, and such like obscure and inferior persons :
■n that, to conclude, we may have tne comfort to see before
us the very face of a sufficient and well composed House, such
as may be worthy to be a representative of the third estate
ijf our kingdom, fit to nourish a loving and comfortable meet-
ing between us and our people, and fit to be a noble instru-
■nent. under the blessing of Almighty God, and our princely
care ani power, and with the loving conjunction of our pre-
Jaies and peers, for the settling of so great atfairs, as are
bt>£':re expressed.
of, and the latter time I had begged it of yoL I
lordship.
The cause of change may either be in myself
or your lordship. I ought first to examine my-
self, which I have done; and God is my witness,
I find all well, and that I have approved myself
to your lordship a true friend, both in the watery
trial of prosperity, and in the fiery trial of ad-
I versity. If your lordship take any insatisfaction
touching the House, I humbly pray you, think
better of it; for that motion to me was a second
sentence, more grievous than the first, as things
then stood and do yet stand : for it sentenced me
to have lost, both in mine own opinion, and much
more in the opinion of others, that which was
saved to me, almost only, in the former sentence,
and which was more dear to me than all that
which was taken from me, which is your lord-
ship's love and favour: for had it not been for
that bitter circumstance, your lordship knows that
you might have commanded my life and all that
is mine. But surely it could not be that, nor any
thing in me, which wrought the change. It is
likely, on the other part, that though your lord-
ship, in your nature, I know to be generous and
constant, yet I being now become out of sight, and
out of use, your lordship having a flood of new
friends, and your ears possessed perhaps by such
as would not leave room for an old, your lordship
may, even by course of the world and the over-
bearing of others, be turned from me, and it were
almost a miracle if it should be otherwise. But
yet, because your lordship may still have so
heroical a spirit as to stand out all these violent
assaults, which might have alienated you from
your friend, my humble suit to your lordship is,
that remembering your former friendship, which
began with your beginning, and since that time
hath never failed on my part, your lordship would
deal clearly with me, and let me know whether
I continue in your favour or no ; and whether in
those poor requests, which I may yet make to his
majesty, (whose true servant I ever was and am,)
for the tempering of my misery, I may presume
to use your lordship's favour and help, as I have
done; for otherwise it were a kind of stupidness
in me, and a great trouble also to your lordship,
for me not to discern the change, for your lord-
ship to have an importuner, instead of a friend
and a suitor. Though, howsoever, if your lord-
ship should never think of me more, yet in re-
spect of your former favours, which cannot alto-
gether be made void, I must remain, &c.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
Though I returned an answer to your lordship's
last honourable and kind letter, by the same way
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
91
by which I received it, yet I humbly pray your
lordship to give me leave to add these few lines
My lord, as God above is my witness, that I ever
have loved and honoured your lordship as mucli
I think, as any son of Adam can love or honour
any thing- that is a subject; and do still continue
in as hearty and strong wishes of felicity to be
heaped and fixed upon you as ever : and so yet I
protest, that at this time, as low as I am, 1 had
rather sojourn the rest of my life in a college in
Cambridge, than recover a good fortune by any
other than yourself. But now, to recover your-
self to me, (if I have you not already,) or to ease
your lordship in any business of mine, wherein
your lordship would not so fully appear, or to be
made partaker of your favours in the way that
you like best, I would use any man who were
your lordship's friend. Secondly, if in any tiling
of my former letters I have given your lordship
any distaste, either by the style of them or any
particular passage in them, I humbly pray your
lordship's benign construction and pardon. I
confess it is my fault, though yet it be some hap-
piness to me withal, that I many times forget my
adversity: but I shall never forget to be, &c.
TO THE EARL OF ARUNDEL AND SURREY.
My very good Lord,
I was likely to have had the fortune of Cajua
Plinius the elder, who lost his life by trying an
experiment about the burning of the Mountain
Vesuvius. For I was also desirous to try an ex-
periment or two, touching the conservation and
induration of bodies. As for the experiment
itself, it succeeded excellently well; but in the
journey (between London and Highgate,) I was
taken with such a fit of casting, as I knew not
whether it were the stone, or some surfeit, or
cold, or indeed a touch of them all three. But
when I came to your lordship's house, I was not
able to go back, and therefore was forced to take
up my lodging here, where your housekeeper is
very careful and diligent about me, which 1 assure
myself your lordship will not only i)ardon towards
him, but think the better of him for it. For in-
deed your lordship's house was happy to me;
and I kiss your noble hands for the welcome
which I am sure you give me to it, &c.
I know how unfit it is for me to write to your
lordship with any other hand than my own; but,
by my troth, my fingers are so disjointed with
this fit of sickness, that 1 cannot steadily hold a pen.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
MR. FRANCIS DACON TO SIR JOHN PUCKERING,
LORD KEEPER OF THE GREAT SEAL.*
My Lord, — It is a great grief unto me, joined
with marvel, that her majesty should retain a
hard conceit of my speeches in parliament. f It
might please her sacred majesty to think what
my end should be in those speeches, if it were
not duty, and duty alone. I am not so simple
but I know the common beaten way to please.
And whereas popularity hath been objected, I
muse what care I should take to please many,
that take a course of life to deal with few. On
the other side, her majesty's grace and particular
favour towards me hath been such, as I esteem
no worldly thing above the comfort to enjoy it,
except it be the conscience to deserve it. But,
if tne not seconding of some particular person's
opinion shall be presumption, and to differ upon
• ILirl. MSS. vol. 286, No. 129, fol. 232.
t On Wednesday, tlie 7th of March, 1592-3, upon the three
stibsidics demanded of the House of Commons ; to which lie
B88ented, but not to the payment of them under six years,
urging the neceiisities of the people, the d:in<jer of raising
public discontentment, and the setting of an evil precedent
against themselves and their posterity. See Sir Simmons
D'Ewos's Journal?, p. 193. He sat in that parliament, which
met November 19. I.'i92, and was dissolved 10 April, 1593, as
one of the knights of the shire for Middlesex.
the manner shall be to impeach the end, it shall
teach my devotion not to exceed wishes, and
those in silence. Yet, notwithstanding, (to
speak vainly as in grief,) it may be her majesty
hath discouraged as good a heart as ever looked
toward her service, and as void of self-love. And
so, in more grief than I can well express, and
much more than I can well dissemble, I leave
your lordship, being as ever.
Your lordship's entirely devoted, &c.
TO SIR THOMAS EGERTON, LORD KEEPER OF
the great seal.*
It may please your Lordship,
I am to make humble complaint to your lord-
ship of some hard dealing offered me by one
Sympson, a goldsmith, a man noted much, as I
have heard, for extremities and stoutness upon
his purse; but yet I could scarcely have ima-
gined he would have dealt either so dishonestly
* From the original in the Hatfield Collection of Statf
Papers, communicated to me by the Rev. William Murdin,
B. D., and intended by him for tlie public in a third volume of
the collection of those papers, if his death had not prevemed
him from executing bis design.
n
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
towards myself, or so contemptuously towards
her majesty's service. For this Ijombard (pardon
me, I most humbly pray your lordship, if, beinv
admonished by the street he dwells in, I give
him that name) having me in bond for three hun-
dred pounds principal, and I having the last term
confessed the action, and by his full and direct
consent, respited the satisfaction till the begin-
ning of this term to come, without ever giving me
warning, either by letter or message, served an
execution upon me, having trained me at such
time as I came from the Tower, where Mr. Waad
can witness, we attended a service of no mean
importance;* neither would he so much as vouch-
safe to come and speak with me to take any order
in it, though I sent for him divers times, and his
house ;s*as just by ; handling it as upon a despite,
being a man I never provoked with a cross word,
no, nor with many delays. He would have
urged it to have had me in prison; which he had
done, had not Sheriff More, to whom I sent,
gently recommended me to a handsome house in
Coleman street, where I am. Now, because he
will not treat with me. I am enforced humbly to
desire your lordship to send for him according to
your place, to bring him to some reason ; and this
forthwith, because I contiaue here to my farther
discredit and inconvenience, and the trouble of
Ihe gentleman with whom 1 am. I have a hun-
dred pounds lying by me, wliich he may have,
and the rest upon some reasonable time and secu-
rity, or, if need be, the whole ; but with my more
trouble. As for the contempt he hath offered, in
regard her majesty's service to my understanding,
carrieth a privilege eundo et redeundo in meaner
• It ia not easy to riptcrmine what this sfirvice was ; but it
seems to relate to the examination of some prisoner; perhaps
Ktiward Squire, executed in November, 1598, for poisoning
the queen's saddle; or Valentine Thomas, who accused the
Kin? of Scots of practices against Queen Elizabeth [Histori-
eal View, p. 178 ;] or one Stanley, concerning whom I shall
insert here passages from two MS. letters of John Chamber-
lain, Esq., to his friend, Dudley Carleton, Esq. ; afterwards
ambassador to Venice, the United Provinces, and France ;
these letters being part of a very large collection, from 1598
to 1625, which I transcribed from the originals. "One Stan
ley," says Mr. Chamberlain, in his letter dated at London,
3d of October, 1693, "that came in sixteen days over land
with letters out of Spain, is lately committed to the Tower.
He was very earnest to have private conference with her
majesty, pretending matter of great importance, which he.
would by no means utter to anybody else." In another
letter, dated 20th of November, 1598, Mr. Chamberlain ob-
serves, that on "the day th:it they looked for Stanley's
arraignment, he came not himself, but sent his forerunner,
one Squire, that had been an under purveyor of the stahle,
who being in Spain was dealt withal by one Walpole, a
Jesuit, to poison the queen and the Earl of Essex; and ac-
cordingly came prepared into England, and went with the
earl in his own ship the last journey, and poisoned the arms
or handles of the chair he used to sit in, with a confection he
had received of the Jesuit; as likewise he had done the
pummel of the queen's saddle, not past five days before his
going to sea. But, because nothing succeeded of it, the priest
thinking he had either changed his purpose, or betrayed it,
gave Stanley instructions to accuse him ; thereby to get him
mo.-e credit, and to be revenged of Squire for breaking pro-
mise. The fellow confessed the whole practice, and, as it
seemed, died very penitent."
causes, much more in matters of this nature
especially in persons known to be qualified with
that place and employment, which, thoup^h I'n-
worthy, I atn vouchsafed, I enforce nothing,
thinking I have done niy part when 1 have made
it known, and so leave it to your lordship's
honourable consideration. And, so with signifi-
cation of my humble duty, &c.
to sir robert cecil, secretary of state.*
It may please your Honour,
I humbly pray you to understand how badly I
have been used by the enclosed, being a copy of
a letter of complaint thereof, which I have written
to the lord keeper. How sensitive you are of
wrongs offered to your blood in my particular I
have had not long since experience. But, herein
I think your honour will be doubly sensitive, in
tenderness also of the indignity to her majesty's
service; for as for me, Mr. Sympson might have
had me every day in London; and, therefore, to
belay me while he knew I came from the Tower
about her majesty's special service, was to my
understanding very bold. And two days before
he brags he forbore me, because I dined with
Sheriff More: so as with Mr. Sympson, exami-
nations at the Tower are not so great a privilege,
eundo et redmndo, as Sheriff More's dinner. But
this complaint I make in duty; and to that end
have also informed my Lord of Essex thereof';
for, otherwise his punishment will do me no
good.
So, with signification of my humble duty, 1
commend your honour to the divine preservation.
At your honourable command particularly,
Fr. Bacon.
From Coleman street, this
24th of September, 1598.
to mr. secretary cecil.*
It may please your Honour,
Because we live in an age, where every man's
imperfections are but another's fable; and that
there fell out an accident in the Exchequer, which
t know not how, nor how soon may be traduced,
though I dare trust rumour in it, except it be
malicious, or extreme partial; I am bold now to
possess your honour, as one that ever I found
careful of my advancement, and yet more jealous
of my wrongs, with the truth of that which pass-
ed ; deferring my farther request, until 1 may
attend your honour : and so, I continue
Your honour's very humble and
particularly bounden,
Fr. Bacon,
Gray's Inn, this
24th of April, 1601.
* From the Hatfield Collection
LEITERS FROM BIRCH.
93
TO ROBERT, LORD CECIL.*
It mav please your good Lordship,
They say late thanks are ever best: but the
reason was, I thought to have seen your lordship
ere this; howsoever, I shall never forget this
your last favour amongst others; and it grieveth
me not a little, that I find myself of no use to
such an honourable and kind friend.
For that matter, I think I shall desire your
assistance for the punishment of the contempt;
not tliat I would use the privilege in future time,
but because I would not have the dignity of the
king's service prejudiced in my instance. But,
herein I will be ruled by your lordship.
It is fit likewise, though much against my mind,
that I let your lordship know, that I shall not be
able to pay the money within the time by your
lordship undertaken, which was a fortnight.
Nay, money I find so hard to come by at this
time, as I thought to have become an humble
suitor to your honour to have sustained me with
your credit for the present from urgent debts,
with taking up three hundred pounds till I can
put away some land. But, I am so forward with
some sales, as this request I hope I may forbear.
For my estate, (because your honour hath care
jf it,) it is thus : I shall be able with selling the
skirts of my living in Hertfordshire]" to preserve
the body, and to leave myself, being clearly out
of debt, and having some money in my pocket,
three hundred pounds land per annum, with a fair
house, and the ground well timbered. This is
now my labour.
For my purpose or course, I desire to meddle
as little as I can in the king's causes, his majesty
now abounding in council; and to follow my
private thrift and practice, and to marry with some
convenient advancement. For, as for any ambi-
tion, I do assure your honour, mine is quenched.
In the queen's my excellent mistress's time, the
fjuorum was small ; her service was a kind of
treehold. and it was a more solemn time. All
Ihose points agreed with my nature and judgment.
My ambition now I shall only put upon my pen,
whereby 1 shall be able to maintain memory and
merit of the times succeeding.
Lastly, for this divulged and almost prostituted
title of knighthood, I could, without charge, by
your honour's mean, be content to have it, both
because of this late disgrace, and because I have
three new knights in my mess in Gray's Inn com-
mons ; and because I have found out an alderman's
daughter,:|: a handsome maiden to my liking. So
as, if your honour will find the time, I will come
to the court from Gorhambury, upon any warning.
• From the Hatfield Collection.
+ Gorhanihiiry.
t Prnhiiblv the lady whom he afterwnrds married, Alice,
one i)f the dniiihters and co-heirs of Benedict Barnham, Esq.,
alderman of London. She survived her hush ind above
twenty years. Life of Lord Bacon bi/ Dr. fVilliam Rav:lcy.
How my sales go forward, your loidship shall,
in a few days, hear; meanwhile, if you will not
be pleased to take farther day with this lewd fel-
low, I hope your lordship will not suflTer him to
take any part of the penalty, but principal, inte-
rest, and costs.
So, I remain your lordship's
most boundcn,
Fr. Bacon.
3d July, 1603.
TO ROBERT, LORD CECIL.
It may PLEASE YOUR GOOD LoRDSHIP,
In answer of your last letter, your money shall
be ready before your day, principal, interest, and
costs of suit. So the sheriff' promised when I
released errors; and a Jew takes no more. The
rest cannot be forgotten ; for I cannot forget your
lordship's durn memor ipse mei : and if there havs
been aliquid iiiinis, it shall be amended. And, c:
be plain with your lordship, that will quicken me
now which slackened me before. Then I thought
you might have had more use of me, than now, I
suppose, you are like to have. Not but I think
the impediment will be rather in my mind than
in the matter or times. But, to do you service, I
will come out of my religion at any time.
For my knighthood,* I wish the manner might
be such as might grace me, since the matter will
not : I mean, that I might not be merely grega-
rious in a troop. The coronation is at hand. It
may please your lordship to let me hear from you
speedily. So I continue
Your lordship's ever much bounden,
Fr. Bacon.
From Gorhambury, this 16th of July, 1003.
THE BEGINNING OF A LETTER IMMEDTATELY
AFTER MY LORD TREASURER'Sf DECEASE.J
It may PLEASE YOUR Majesty :
If I shall seem, in these few lines, to write
mnjora quam pro fortuiia, it may please your ma-
jesty to take it to be an effect, not of presumption,
but of afl^ection. For, of the one I was never
noted ; and for the other, I could never show it
hitherto to the full, being as a hawk tied to an-
other's fist, that might sometimes bait and profl^^r,
but could never fly. And, therefore, if, as it was
said to one that spoke great words, Jmice, verba
iua dcsidaant ctvitatem,§ so your majesty say to
me, " Bacon, your words require a place to speak
them ;" I must answer, that place, or not place, is
in your majesty to add or refrain : and, though I
never grow eager but to******, yet your ma
jesty
♦ He was kniphted at" Whitehall, Jnly 23, IfO.T
+ Robert, Earl of Salisbury, who dierl 2Jlh of May, 1612
J The draught of this imperfect letter is written chit Ay !r
Greek characters.
J These words of Themistocles are cited likewise by Li-rJ
Bacon at the end of his book De Augvuntis Scienliaiutr
94
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
TO THE KING, IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE LORD
treasurer's death.
It may please your excellent Majesty,
I cannot but endeavour to merit, considering
your preventing graces, which is the occasion of
these few lines. i
Your majesty hath lost a great subject and a
great servant. But, if I should praise him in
propriety, I should say that he was a fit man to
keep things from growing worse; but uo very fit
man to reduce things to be much better. For he
loved to have the eyes of all Israel a little too
much on himself, and to have all business still
under the hammer, and, like clay in the hands of
the potter, to mould it as he thought good ; so that
be was more in operatione than in opere. And,
though he had fine passages of action, yet the
real conclusions came slowly on. So that, al-
though your majesty hath grave counsellors and
worthy persons left, yet you do, as it were, turn a
leaf wherein, if your majesty shall give a frame
and constitution to matters before you place the
persons, in my simple opinion, it were not amiss.
But the great matter, and most instant for tlie
present, is the consideration of a Parliament, for
two effects ; the one for the supply of your estate,
the other for the better knitting of the hearts of your
subjects unto your majesty, according to your in-
finite merit; for both which. Parliaments have
been, and are, the ancient and honourable remedy.
Now, because I take myself to have a little
skill in that region, as one that ever affected that
your majesty might, in all your causes, not only
prevail, but prevail with satisfaction of the inner
man; and though no man can say but I was a
perfect and peremptory royalist, yet, every man
makes me believe that I was never one hour out
of credit with the Lower House ; my desire is, to
knew whether your majesty will give me leave to
meditate and propound unto you some preparative
remembrances, touching the future Parliament.
Your majesty may truly perceive that, though
I cannot challenge to myself either invention or
judgment, or elocution, or method, or any of
those powers, yet my offering is care and obser-
vance: and, as my good old mistress was wont to
':all me her watch candle, because it pleased her
to say I did continually burn, (and yet she suf-
fered me to waste almost to nothing,) so I must
.•nuch more owe the like duty to your majesty, by
whom my fortunes have been settled and raised.
And so, craving pardon, I rest
Your majesty's most humble
servant devote, F. B.
i\ Maj, 1GI2
majesty, this most humble oblation of myself; .
may truly say with the psalm, Mu/tum incola
fuit anima mea ,- for my life hath been conversant
in things, wherein I take little pleasure. Your
majesty may have heard somewhat, that my father
was an honest man ; and somewhat yet, I may
have been of myself, though not to make any true
judgment by, because I have hitherto had only
potestaltm verborum, nor that neither. I was three
of my young years bred with an ambassador iu
France, and since I have been an old truant in the
school-house of your council chamber, though on
the second form, 3'et longer than any that now
sitteth hath been in the head form. If your
majesty find any aptness in me, or if you find
any scarcity in others, whereby you may think it
fit for your servi(;e to remove me to business of
state, although I have a fair way before me for
profit, and, by your majesty's grace and favour,
for honour and advancement, and in a course less
exposed to the blast of fortune, yet, now that he
is gone quovivente virtutihus certissimum exitium
I will be ready as a chessman, to be wherever
your majesty's royal hand shall set me. Your
majesty will bear me witness, I have not sud-
denly opened myself thus far. I have looked on
upon others. I see the exceptions; I see the dis-
tractions ; and I fear Tacitus will be a prophet,
mngis alii kornincs, (juam alii mores. I know mine
own heart; and I know not whether God, that
hath touched my heart with the affection, may not
touch your royal heart to discern it. Howsoever,
I shall go on honestly in mine ordinary course,
and supply the rest in prayers for you, remain-
ing, &c.
TO THE KING.
Ir MAY PLEASE YOUR EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
^]y principal end being to do your majesty ser-
fiice, I crave leave to make, at this time, to your
TO THE KING.*
* * * Lastly, I Avill make two prayers unto
your majesty, as I used to do to God Almighty,
when I commend to him his own glory and
cause; so I will pray to your majesty for
yourself.
The one is, that these cogitations of want, do
not any ways trouble or vex your mind. I
remember Moses saith of the land of promise, that
it was not like the land of Egypt, that was
watered with a river, but was watered with
showers from heaven; whereby I gather, God
preferreth, sometimes uncertainties before cer-
tainties, because they teach a more immediate
dependence upon his providence. Sure I am,
nil novi acc/dit vobis. It is no new thing for
the greatest kings to be in debt : and, if a man
shall pnrvis componere magna, I have seen an
Earl of Leicester, a Chancellor Hatton, an Ear!
of Essex, and an Earl of Salisbury, in debt; and
• The beginping of this letter is wanting
Lirr'MnJS FROM BIRCH.
05
yet was it no manner of (liinir\iition to their power
or jjreatness.
My second prayer is, that your majesty, in
respect of the hasty freeing of your estate,
would not descend to any means, or de<rree of
means, which oarrieth not a symmetry with your
majesty and greatness. He is gone from whom
tliose courses did wholly flow. So have your
wants and necessities in particular, as it were,
hanged up in two tablets before the eyrs nf your
Lords and Commons, to be talked of for four
months together; to have all ;four courses, to
help yourself in revenue or profit, put iiito pnnted
books, which were wont to be hclJ urcana
imperii; to have such worms of aMennon, to
lend for ten in the hundred upon good assurance,
and with such * *, as if it should save the bark
of your fortune; to contract still where might be
had the readiest payment, and not the best bar-
gain; to stir a number of projects for your profit,
and then to blast them, and leave your majesty
nothing but the scandal of them ; to pretend an
even carriage between your majesty's rights and
the ease of the people, and to satisfy neither.
These courses, and others the like, I hope, are
gone with the deviser of them, which have turned
your majesty to inestimable prejudice.*
I hope your majesty will pardon my liberty of
writing. I know these things are majora qumii
pro for (una.- but they are minora quam pro studio
et volunfate. I assure myself, your majesty
taketh not me for one of a busy nature; for my
state being free from all difficulties, and I having
such a large field for contemplations, as I have
partly, and shall much more make manifest to
your majesty and the world, to occupy my
thoughts, nothing could make me active but love
and atfection. So, praying my God to bless and
favour your person and estate, &c.
TO THE KING.
It may please your excellent Majesty,
I have, with all possil)le diligence, since your
majesty's progress, attended the service commit-
* It will he but justice to the memory of the Earl of Salis-
bury, to remark, that this disadvantageous character of him,
by Sir Francis Bacon, seems to have been heightened by
the prejudices of the latter against that able minister,
grounded upon some suspicions, that the eirl had not served
hiui with so much zeal as he might have expected from so
near a relation, either in Queen Elizabeth's reign, or of that
of her successor. Nor is it any just imputation on his lord-
Bliip, that he began to decline in King James the First's good
opinion, when his majesty's ill econouiy occasioned de-
mands on the lord treasurer, which all his skill, in the busi-
ness of the finances, could not answer, but which drew
from him advices and remonstrances still extant, which that
king not being very ready to profit liy, conceived some re-
•eniment against his old servant and even retained it against
bis memory.
ted to the subcommissioners, touching the repair
land improvement of your majesty's means: and
this I have done, not only in meeting, and con-
ference, and debate with the rest, but also by my
several and private meditation and inquiry : so
that, besides tiie joint account, which we shall
j give to the lords, I hope I shall be able to give
! your majesty somewhat ex pro prio. For as no
I man loveth better comukre in commune than I
I do; neither am I of those fine ones that use to
keep back any thing, wherein they think ihey
may win credit apart, and so make the consulta-
tion almost inutile. So, nevertheless, in cases
where matters shall fall upon the by, perhaps of
no less worth than that, wliich is the proper sub-
ject of the consultation; or where I find things
passed over too slightly, or in cases where that,
which I should advise, is of that nature, as I
hold it not fit to be communicated to all those
with whom I am joined ; these parts of business
I put to my private account; not because I would
be officious, (though I profess I would do works
of supererogation if I could,) but in a true discre-
tion and caution. And your majesty had some
taste in those notes which I gave you for the
wards, (which it pleased you to say, were no
tricks nor novelties, but true passages of busi-
ness,) that mine own particular remembrances
and observations are not like to be unprofilablf.
Concerning which notes for the wards, though I
might say, .sic vus non robis, yet let that pass.
I have also considered fully, of that great pro-
position which your majesty commended to my
care and study, tnuching the conversion of your
revenue of land into a multiplied present revenue
of rent : wherein, I say, I have considered of the.
means and course to be taken of the assurance,
of the rates, of the exceptions, and of the argu-
ments for and against it. For, though the jiroject
itself be as old as I can remember, and falleth
under every man's capacity, yet the disjiute and
manage of it, asketh a great deal of considera-
tion and judgment; projects being, like jEsop's
tongues, t!;e best meat and the worst, as they are
chosen and handled. But surely, uhi deficiunl
remedia ordinaria, recurrendum esf ad extraordi-
naria. Of this also I am ready to give your
majesty an account.
Generally, upon this subject of the repair of
your majesty's means, I beseech your majesty t(^
give me leave to make this judgment, that your
majesty's recovery must be by the medicines of
the Galenists and Arabians, and not of the chy-
mists or Paracelsians. For it will not be wrought
by any one fine extract, or strong water, but by a
skilful company of a number of ingredients, and
those by just weight and proportion, and that of
some simples, which perhaps of themselves, or
in over-great quantity, were little better than
poisons, but, mixed and broken, and in just quan-
tity, are full of virtue. And, second y that as
96
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
your majesty's growinr
behindhand, hath been
work of time, so must likewise be your majesty's
coming forth and making even. Not but I wish
it were by all good and fit means accelerated, but
that I foresee, that if your majesty shall propound
to yourself to do it per saltum, it can hardly be
without accidents of prejudice to your honour,
safety, or prolit.
Endorsed,
My letter to the king, touching his estate in gene-
ral, September 18, 1612.
TO THE KING.
May it please your Majesty,
According to your highness's pleasure, signi-
fied by my Lord Chamberlain,* I have consider-
ed of the petition of certain baronets, f made unto
your majesty for confirmation and extent, or
explanation of certain points mentioned iYi their
charter, and am of opinion, that first, whereas it
is desired, that the baronets be declared a middle
degree, between baron and knight, I hold this to
be reasonable as to their placing.
Secondly, Where it is desired, that unto the
words degree or dignity of baron, the word honour
might he added ; I know very well, that in the
preface of the baronets' patent it is mentioned,
tliat all honours are derived from the king, I find
also, that in the patent of the baronets, which are
marshalled under the barons, (except it be certain
principals.) the word honour is granted. I find
also, that the word dignity is many times in law
a superior word to the word honour, as being
applied to the king himself, all capital indict-
ments concluding contra coronam et dignitatem
nostram. It is evident also, that the word honour
and honourable are used in these times in common
speech very promiscuously. Nevertheless, be-
cause the style of honour iielongs chiefly to peers
and counsellors, I am doubtful what opinion to
give therein.
Thirdly, Whereas it is believed, that if there
be any question of precedence touching baronets,
it may be ordered, that the same be decided by
the commissioners marshal ; I do not see but it
may be granted thern for avoiding disturbances.
Fourthly, For the precedence of baronets I find
no alteration or difficulty, except it be in this,
that the daughters of baronets are desired to be
declared to have precedence before the wives of
kniffhts' eldest sons ; which, because it is a degree
hereditary, and that, in all examples, the daughters
• Thomas Howard, Earl of Suffolk.
t The order of baronets was created by patent of King
James I., dated the 22d of May, 1611. The year following, a
decree was made relating to their place and precedence ;
and four years after, viz., in 1616, another decree to the same
p.irpose. !<ee Selden's Titles of Honour, Part II., Ch. V., p.
#21. Ch. XI., p. 910, and 906. 2d Edit. fol. 1613.
in general have place next the e.dest brothers'
wives, I hold convenient.
Lastly, Wiiereas it is desired, that the apparent
heirs males of the bodies of the baronets may be
knighted during the life of their fathers; for that
I have received from the lord chamberlain a
signification, that your majesty did so iinderstand
it, 1 humbly subscribe thereunto with this, that
the baronets' eldest sons being knights, do not
take place of ancient knights, so long as their
fathers live.
All which, tievertheless, I humbly submit to
your majesty's judgment.
Your majesty's most humble
and most bounden servant,
Fr. Bacon.
to the king.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
Having understood of the death of the lord
chief justice,* I do ground, in all humbleness, an
assured hope, that your majesty will not think of
any other but your poor servants, your attorney|
and your solicitor,:}: one of them for that place.
Else we shall be like Noah's dove, not knowing
where to rest our feet. For the places of rest,
after the extreme painful places wherein we sefve,
have used to be either the lord chancellor's place,
or the mastership of the rolls, or the places of
the chief justices; whereof, for the first, I could
be almost loath to live to see this worthy counsel-
lor fail. The mastership of the rolls is blocked
with a reversion. § My Lord Coke is like to out-
live us both : so as, if this turn fail, I, for my
part, know not whither to look. I have served
your majesty above a prenticehood, full seven
years and more, as your solicitor, which is, I
think, one of the painfullest places in your king-
dom, specially as my employments have been:
and God hath brought mine own years to fifty-
two, which, I think, is older than ever any solici-
tor continued unpreferred. INIy suit is principally
that you would remove Mr. Attorney to the place.
If he refuse, then I hope your majesty will seek
no farther than myself, that I may at last, out
of your majesty's grace and fiivour, step forwards
to a place either of more comfort or more ease.
Besides, how necessary it is for your majesty to
strengthen your service amongst the judges by a
chief justice which is sure to your prerogative,
your majesty knoweth. Therefore, I cease farther
to trouble your majesty, humbly craving pardon,
♦ Sir Thomas Flemina, who died about August, 1613.
+ Sir Henry Hobart, who was made Lord Chief Justice of
the Common Pleas, November 26, 1613, in the room of Sir
Edward Coke, removed to the post of Lord Chief Justice of
the King's Bench, October 2.^.
1 i Sir Francis Bacon himself, who was appointed attorney-
; general, Oct. 2T, 1613.
I {To Sir Julius Ctesar.
LETl'ERS FROM BIRCH.
97
and rolyinsf wholly upon your goodness and
remembrance, and resting, in all true humbleness,
Your majesty's most devoted, and
faithful subject and servant,
Fr. Bacon.
TO MR. MURRAY.*
Good Mr. Murray,
According to his majesty's pleasure by you
signified to me, we have attended my lord chan-
cellor,! my lord treasurer,:^: and Mr. Chancel-
lor of the E.\che(iuer,§ concerning Sir Gilbert
Hougiiton's patent stayed at the seal; and we
have acquainted them with the grounds and state
of the suit, to justify them that it was just and
beneficial to his majesty. And for any thing we
could perceive by any objection or reply they
made, we left them in good opinion of the same,
with this, that because my lord chancellor (by the
advice, as it seemeth, of the other two) had ac-
quainted the council-table, for so many as were
then present, witn that suit amongst others, they
thought fit to stay till his majesty's coming to
town, being at hand, to understand his farther
pleasure. We purpose, upon his majesty's com-
ing, to attend his majesty, to give him a more
particular account of this business, and some
other. Meanwhile, finding his majesty to have
care of the matter, we thought it our duty to
return this answer to you in discharge of his
majesty's direction. We remain
Your assured friends,
Fr. Bacon,
Henry Y'^elverton.
July 6, 1615.
TO SIR GEORGE VILLIERS.
Sir, — The message which 1 received from you
by Mr. Shute hath bred in me such belief and
confidence as I will now wholly rely upon your
excellent and happy self. When persons of
greatness and quality begin speech with me of
the matter, and offer me their good offices, I can
but answer them civilly. But those things are
but toys : I am yours surer to you than to mine
own life ; for, as they speak of the turquois stone
in a ring, I will break into twenty pieces before
you have the least fall. God keep you ever.
Y'our truest servant,
Fr. Bacon.
February 1.^, 1015.
My lord chancellor is prettily amended. I was
with him yesterday almost half an hour. He used
♦ Harl. MSS. vol. 6986.
t Ellesmerc.
t Thomas Howard, Earl of Suffolk.
i Sir Fulk Grevile, advanced to that post October 1, 1614,
in the room of Sir Julius Ctesar, made Master of the Rolls.
Vol. hi.— 13
me with wonderful tokens of kindness. We botb
wept, which I do not often.
EndorBed,
A letter to Sir George Villi ers, touching a message
brought to him by Mr. Shute, of a promise of Iht
chancellor'' s place.
MR. TOBIE MATTHEW* TO SIR FRANCIS BACON,
ATTORNEY-GENERAL
May it please you, Sir,
The notice I have from my Lord Roos, Sir
Henry Goodere, and other friends, of the extreme
obligation wherein I continue towards you, to-
gether with the conscience I have of the know-
ledge how dearly and truly I honour and love you,
and daily pray that you may rise to that height
which the state wherein you live can give you,
hath taken away the wings of fear, whereby I
was almost carried away from daring to importune
you in this kind. But I know how good you have
always been, and are still, towards me; or rather
because I am not able to comprehend how much
it is ; I will presume there is enough for any use,
whereupon an honest humble servant may era-
ploy it.
It imports the business of my poor estate, th
I he restored to my country for some time ; and I
have divers friends in that court, who will further
my desire thereof, and particularly Mr. Secretary
Lake and my Lord Roos, whom I have desired to
confer with you about it. But nothing can be
done therein, unless my Lord of Canterbury!
may be made propitious, or at least not averse ;
nor do I know in the world how to charm him but
by the music of your tongue. I beseech you, sir,
lose some minutes upon me, which I shall be
glad to pay by whole years of service ; and call
to mind, if it please you, the last speech you made
me, that if I should continue as I then was, and
neither prove ill-afiected to the state, nor become
otherwise than a mere secular man in my religion,
you would be pleased to negotiate for my return.
On my part the conditions are performed ; and it
remains, that you do the like : nor can I doubt
but that the nobleness of your nature, which loves
nothing in the world so well as to be doing of
good, can descend from being the attorney-general
♦ Son of Dr. Tobie Matthew, Archbishop of York. \l" was
born at O.xford in 1.^78, while his father was Dean of Christ
Church, and educated there. During his travels abroad, he
was seduced to the Romish religion by Father Parsons. This
occasioned his living out of his own country from the year
1607 to 1617, when he had leave to return to England. Ho
was again ordered to leave it in October, 1018 ; but, in 162'2,
was recalled to assist in the match with Spain ; and, on ac-
count of his endeavours to promote it, was knighttd by Kinjj
James I. at Royston, on the 10th of October, 1623 He tran*.
lated into Italian Sir Francis Bacon's Essays, and died »t
Ghent in Flanders, October 13, 1655, N. 8.
t Dr. George Abbot.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
10 a great king, to be solicitor for one of the
meanest subjects that he hath.
I send my letter to my lord's grace open, that
before you seal it (if you shall think fit to seal it,
and rather not to deliver it open) you may see the
reasons that I have ; which, if I be not partial, are
very pregnant. Although I confess, that till it
was now very lately motioned to me by some
honourable friends, who have already procured to
disimpression his majesty of some hard conceit
he had me in, I did not greatly think thereof;
and now I am full of hope that I shall prevail.
For supposing that my Lord of Canterbury's mind
is but made of iron, the adamant of your persua-
sion will have power to draw it. It may please
you either to send a present answer hereunto, or,
since I am not worthy of so much favour, to tell
either of those honourable persons aforenamed what
the answer is, that accord ingly they may co-operate.
This letter goes by Sir Edward Parham,a gen-
tleman whom I have been much beholden to. I
know him to be a perfect honest man ; and since, I
protest, I had rather die than deceive you, I will
humbly pray, that he may rather receive favour
from you than otherwise, when he shall come in
your wa}^, which at one time or other all the
world there must do. And I shall acknowledge
myself much bound to you, as being enabled by
this means to pay many of my debts to him.
I presume to send yon the copy of a piece of a
letter, which Galileo, of whom I am sure you
have heard, wrote to a monk of my acquaintance
in Italy, about the answering of that place in
Joshua, which concerns the sun's standing still,
and approving thereby the pretended falsehood of
Copernicus's opinion. The letter was written by
occasion of the opposition, which some few in
Italy did make against Galileo, as if he went
about to establish that by experiments which ap-
pears to be contrary to. Holy Scripture. But he
makes it appear the while by tiiis piece of a let-
ter which I send you, that if that passage of
Scripture doth expressly favour either side, it is
for the affirmative of Copernicus's opinion, and
for the negative of Aristotle's. To an attorney-
general in the midst of a town, and such a one
as is employed in the weightiest affairs of the
kingdom, it might seem unseasonable for me to
interrupt you with matter of this nature. But I
know well enough in how high account you have
the truth of things : and that no day can pass,
wherein you give not liberty to your wise thoughts
of looking upon the works of nature. It may
please you to pardon the so much trouble which
1 give you in this kind ; though yet, I confess, I
do nnt deserve a pardon, because I find not in
myself a nurpose of forbearing to do the like here-
•ifter. I most numbly kiss your hand.
Your most faithful and affectionate servant,
ToBiE Matthew.
Brussels, this 2l8t of April, 1C16.
MR. TOBIE MATTHEW TO SIR FRANCIS BACON.
ATTORNEY-GENERAL.
May IT PLEASE YOUR Honour,
Such as know your honour may congratulate
with you the favour which you have lately received
from his majesty, of being made a counsellor of
state :* but as for me, I must have leave to con-
gratulate with the council-table, in being so happy
as to have you for an assessor. I hope these are
but beginnings, and that the marriage, which now
I perceive that fortune is about to make with
virtue, will be consummate in your person. I can-
not dissemble, though I am ashamed to mention,
the excessive honour which you have vouchsafed
to do unto my picture. But shame ought not to
be so hateful as sin ; and without sin I know not
how to conceal the extreme obligation, into which
I am entered thereby, which is incomparably more
than I can express, and no less than as much as I
am able to conceive. And as the copy is more
fortunate than the original, because it hath the
honour to be under your eye, so the original, being
much more truly yours than the copy can be,
aspires, by having the happiness to see yon, to
put the picture out of countenance.
I understand by Sir George Petre,]" who is ar-
rived here at the Spn, and is so wise as to honour
you extremely, though he have not the fortune to
be known to your honour, that he had heard how
my Lord of Canterbury had been moved in my
behalf, and that he gave way unto my return.
This, if it bo true, cannot have happened without
some endeavour of your honour ; and, therefore,
howsoever I have not been particularly advertised
that your honour had delivered my letter to his
grace ; yet now methinks I do as good as know it,
and dare adventure to present you with my hum-
blest thanks for the favour. But the main point
is, how his majesty should be moved ; wherein
my friends are straining courtesy ; and unless I
have your honour for a master of the ceremonies to
take order, who shall begin, all the benefit, that I
can reap by this negotiation, will be to have the
reputation of little judgment in attempting that
which I was not able to obtain ; and that howsoever
I have shot fair, I know not how to hit the mark.
I have been directed by my Lord Roos, who was
the first mover of this stone, to write a letter,
which himself would deliver to the Master of the
Horse,:j: who doth me the honour to wish me very
well : and I have obeyed his lordship, and beseech
your honour, that you will be pleased to prevent,
or to accompany, or second it with your commen-
dation, lest otherwise the many words that I have
used have but the virtue of a single 0, or cipher.
But, indeed, if I had not been overweighed by the
♦ Sir Francis Bacon was sworn at Greenwich of the privy-
council, June 9, 1616.
t Grandson of John, the first Lord Petre, and son of Wil-
liain, second baron of that name.
X Sir George Villiers, who was appointed to that office,
Ju.iuary 4, 1015-6.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
09
authority of my Lord Roos's commandment, I
should rather have reserved the master of the
horse's favour to some other use afterward. In
conformity whereof I have also written to his lord-
ship, and perhaps he will thereupon forbear to
deliver my letter to the master of the horse:
whereas I should be the less sorry if your honour's
self would not think it inconvenient to make the
suit of my return to his majesty ; in which case I
should, to my extreme contentment, have all my
obliirations to your honour only.
His majesty's being now in progress, will give
some impediment to my suit, unless either it be
my good fortune that your honour do attend his
person, or else that you will be pleased to com-
mand some one of the many servants your honour
hath in court, to procure the expedition of my
cause ; wherein I can foresee no difficulty, when I
consider the interest which your honour alloweth
me in your favour, and my innocent carriage
abroad for so many years ; whereunto all his
majesty's ministers, who have known me, I am
sure, will give an attestation, according to the
contents of my letter, to his Grace of Canterbury.
If I durst, I would most humbly entreat your
honour to be pleased, that some servant of yours
may speedily advertise me, whether or no his
Grace of Canterbury hath received my letter;
what his answer was; and what I may hope in
this my suit. I remember, that the last words
which I had the honour to hear from your mouth,
were, that if I continued any time free both from
disloyalty and priesthood, your honour would be
pleased to make yourself the intercessor for my
return. Any letter sent to Mr. Trumball for me
will come safely and speedily to my hands.
The term doth now last with your honour all
the year long, and therefore the sooner I make an
end, the better service I shall do you. I presume
to kiss your hands, and continue
Your honour's most entirely, and
humbly ever at commandment,
ToBiK Matthews.
Spa, this 16th of July, sti/lo novo, 1616.
P. S. It is no small penance, that I am forced
to apparel my mind in my man's hand, when it
speaks to your honour. But God Almighty will
have it so, through the shaking I have in my
right hand ; and I do little less than want the use
of my forefinger.
TO SIR FRANCIS BACON, ATTORNEY-GENERAL.
It may PLEASE YOUR HoNOUR,
I presumed to importune your honour with a
letter of the IGth of this month, whereby I signified
how I had written to the master of the horse,
that he would be pleased to m.ove his majesty for
my return into England ; and how that I had
done it upon the direction of my Lord Roos, who
offered to be the deliverer thereof. Withal I told
your honour that I expressed thereby an act rather
of obedience than prudence, as not holding his
lordship a fit man, whom by presenting that letter
the king might peradventure discover to be my
favourer in this business. In regard whereof I
besought him, that howsoever I had complied
with his command in writing, yet he would for-
bear the delivery : and 1 gave him divers reasons
for it. And, both in contemplation of those
reasons, as also of the hazard of miscarriage that
letters do run into between these parts and those,
I have now thought fit to send your honour this en-
closed, accompanied with a most humble entreaty
that you will be pleased to put it into the master
of the horse's hands, with such a recommenda-
tion as you can give. Having read it, your
honour may be pleased to seal it; and if his
honour have received the former by other hands,
this may serve in the nature of a duplicate or
copy : if not, it may be the original; and, indeed,
though it should be but the copy, if it may be
touched by your honour, it would have both
greater grace and greater life than the principal
itself; and, therefore, howsoever, I humbly pray,
that this may be delivered.
If my business should be remitted to the coun-
cil-table (which yet I hope will not be) I am most
a stranger to my lord chancellor and my lord
chamberlain,* of whom yet I trust, by means of
your honour's good word in my behalf, that I sha^'
receive no impediment.
The bearer, Mr. Becher,f can say what ■
carriage hath been in France, under the eye
several ambassadors ; which makes me the more
glad to use him in the delivery of this letter to
your honour : and if your honour may be pleased
to command me any thing, he will convey it to
my knowledge.
I hear to my unspeakable joy of heart, how
much power you have with the master of the
horse ; and how much immediate favour you have
also with his most excellent majesty: so that I can-
not but hope for all good success, when I consider
withal the protection whereinto you have been
pleased to take me, the
Most humble and most obliged of
your honour's many servants,
ToBiE Matthew.
Spa, this last of July, stylo novo, 1616.
TO SIR FRANCIS BACON, ATTORNEY-GENERAL
May IT PLEASE YOUR Honour,
I have been made happy by your honour's
noble and dear lines of the 2*2d of July : and the
joy that I took therein was only kept from excess
* William, Earl of Pembroke.
t William, afterwards knighted. He hai been secretary lo
Sir George Calvert, ambassador to the rourt of France, and
was afterwards agent at that court ; and at last made c erk
of the council
100
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
by tho notice they gave me of some intentions
and advices of your honour, which you have been
pleased to impart to others of my friends, with a
meaning, that ihey should acquaint me with them ;
whereof they have entirely failed. And, there-
fore, if still it should import me to understand
what they were, I must be enforced to beg the
knowledge of them from yourself. Your honour
hath by this short letter delivered me otherwise
from a great deal of laborious suspense ; for, be-
sides the great hope you give me of being so
shortly able to do you reverence, I am come to
know, that by the diligence of your favour towards
nie, my Lord of Canterbury hath been drawn to
give way, and the master of the horse hath been
induced to move. That motion, I trust, will be
granted, howsoever; but I should be out of fear
thereof, if, when he moves the king, your honour
would cast to be present; that if his majesty
should make any difficulty, some such reply as is
wont to come from you in such cases may have
power to discharge it.
I have been told rather confidently than credi-
bly, (for in truth I am hardly drawn to believe it,)
that Sir Henry Goodere should underhand (upon
the reason of certain accounts that run between
him and me, wherein I might justly lose my right,
if I had so little wit as to trouble your honour's
infinite business by a particular relation thereof)
oppose himself to my return, and perform ill
offices, in conformity of that unkind affection
which he is said to bear me ; but, as I said, I can-
not absolutely believe it, though yet I could not
so far despise the information, as not to acquaint
your honour with what I heard. I offer it not as
a ruled case, but only as a query, as I have also
done to Mr. Secretary Lake, in this letter, which
I humbly pray your honour may be given him,
together with your best advice, how my business
is to be carried in this conjuncture of his ma-
jesty's drawing near to London, at which time I
shall receive my sentence. I have learned from
your honour to be confident, that it will be pro-
nounced in my favour: but, if the will of God
should be otherwise, I shall yet frame for myself
a good proportion of contentment; since, howso-
ever, I was so unfortunate, as that I might not
enjoy my country, yet, withal, I was so happy, as
that my return thither was desired and negotiated
by th^ affection, which such a person as yourself
vouchsafed to bear me. When his majesty shall
be moved, if he chance to make difficulty about
my return, and offer to impose any condition,
which it is known I cannot draw myself to di-
gest, I desire it may be remembered, that my
case is common with many of his subjects, who
breathe in the air of their country, and that my
rase is not common with many, since I have
lived so long abroad with disgrace at home ; and
yet have ever been free, not only from suspicion
of practice, but from the least dependence upon
foreign princes. INIy king is wise, and I hope
that he hath this just mercy in store for me. God
Almighty make and keep your honour ever hap.
py, and keep me so in his favour, as I will be
sure to continue
Your honour's ever most obliged
and devoted servant,
ToBiE Matthew.
Antwerp, this first of Sept., stylo novo, 1C16.
P. S., May it please your Honour,
I have written to Sir John Digby ; and I think
he would do me all favour, if he were handsome-
ly put upon it. My lady of Pembroke hath writ-
ten, and that very earnestly, to my lord chamber-
lain in my behalf.
This letter goes by Mr. Robert Garret, to
whom I am many ways beholden, for making me
the best present that ever I received, by deliver-
ing me your honour's last letter.
sir francis bacon to the king.
May it please your excellent Majesty,
Because I have ever found, that in business
the consideration of persons, who are imtrumenta
animnta, is no less M'eighty than of matters, I
humbly pray your majesty to peruse this enclosed
paper, containing a diligence which I have used
in omnem eventum. If Tow^erson,* as a passion-
ate man, have overcome himself in his opinion,
so it is. But if his company make this good,
then I am very glad to see in the case wherein
we now stand, there is this hope left, and youi
majesty's honour preserved in the entier. God
have your majesty in his divine protection.
Your majesty's most devoted
and most bounden servant, &c.
This is a secret to all men but my lord chan-
cellor ; and we go on this day with the new com-
pany without discouraging them at all.
September 18, 1616.
Endorsed,
To the king, upon Towerson's propositions about
the cloth business.
RICHARD martin, ESQ.f TO SIR FRANCIS BACON.
Right Honourable,
By attendance at court two days (in vain, con-
sidering the end of my journey,) was no loss
* Whose brother, Captain Gabriel Towerson, was one of the
English merchants executed by the Dutch at Amboyna, in 1623.
t Born about 1570, entered a commoner of Broad-tate's
Hall, now Pembroke Collepe, Oxford, in ISS.'S. whence he re-
moved to the Middle Temple. In the Parliament of 1601, he
served for the borough of Barnstable in Devon ; and in the
first Parliament of King James I. he served for Cirencester in
Gloucestershire. He was chosen recorder of London in Sep-
tember, 1618; but died in the last day of the following month.
I He wag much esteemed by the men of learning and
I genius of that age.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
101
unto me, seeing therehy I made the gain of tlie '
overture and assurance of your honour's alFection.
Tiiese comforts have given new life and strength to
my hopes, which before began to faint. I know
what your honour promiseth you will undertake, I
and wliat you undertake, you seldom fail to com-
pass ; for such proof of your prudence and industry
your honour hath of late times given to the swaying
world. There is, to my understanding, no great
intricacy in my affair, in which I plainly descry the
course to the shore I would land at ; to which neither
I nor any other can attain without the direction of
our great master pilot, who will not stir much
without the beloved mate sound the way. Both
these, none can so well set awork as yourself,
who have not only their ear, but their affection,
and that with good right, as I hope in time, to
good and public porpose. It is fit likewise that
your honour know all my advantages. The pre-
sent incumbent is tied to me by firm promise,
which gives an impediment to the competitors,
whereof one already, according to the heaviness
of his name and nature, pelit deorsum. And
though I be a bad courtier, yet I know the style
of gratitude, and shall learn as I am instructed ;
whatsoever your honour shall undertake for me,
I will make good ; therefore I humbly and earn-
estly entreat your best endeavour, to assure to
yourself and your master a servant, who both can
and will, though as yet mistaken, advance his
honour and service with advantage. Your love
and wisdom is my last address ; and on the real
nobleness of your nature (whereof there is so
good proof) stands my last hope. If I now find
a stop, I will resolve it is fatum Carthaginis, and
sit down in perpetual peace. In this business I
desire all convenient silence; for though I can
endure to be refused, yet it would trouble me to
have my name blasted. If your honour return
not, and you think it requisite, I will attend at
court. Sleantime, with all humble and hearty
wishes for increase of all happiness, I kiss your
honour's hands.
Your honour's humbly at command,
• R. Martin.
September 27, 1016.
Endorsed,
Tb the Right Honourable Sir Francis Bacon,
knight, his majesty''s attorney- general, and one of
his majesty^s most honourable privy council, my
singular patron at court.
TO SIR FUANLTS BACON, ATTORNEY-GENERAL.*
Sir, — I have kept your man here thus long, be-
cause I thought there would have been some
occasion for me to write after Mr. Solicitor-Gene-
ral's being with the king. But he hath received
so full instruction from his majesty, that there ia
nothing left for me to add in the business. And
so I rest
Your faithful servant,
Gkorge Villiers.
Royston, the 13th of October, 1616.
Endorsed,
To the Right Honourable Sir Francis Bacon,
knight, one of his majesty''s privy council, and
his attorney-general.
SIR EDMUND BACON* TO SIR FRANCIS BACON,
ATTORNEY-GENERAL.
My Lord, — I am bold to present -nto your
hands, by this bearer, whom the law calls up,
some salt of wormwood, being uncertain whether
the regard of your health makes you still continue
the use of that medicine. I could wish it other-
wise ; for I am persuaded that all diuretics, which
carry with them that punctuous nature and caustic
quality by calcination, are hurtful to the kidneys,
if not enemies to the other principal parts of the
body. Wherein, if it shall please you, for your
better satisfaction, to call the advice of your
learned physicians, and that they shall resolve of
any medicine for your health, wherein my poor
labour may avail you, you know where your faith-
ful apothecary dwells, who will be ready at your
commandment; as I am bound both by your
favours to myself, as also by those to my nephew,
whom you have brought out of darkn»!ss into light,
and, by what I hear, have already made him, by
your bounty, a subject of emulation to his elder
brother. We are all partakers of this your kind-
ness towards him ; and, for myself, I shall be ever
ready to deserve it by any service that shall lie in
the power of
Your lordship's poor nephew,
Edm. Bacon.
Redgrave, this 19th of October, lC16i
Endorsed,
For the Right Honourable Sir Francis Bacory,
knight, his majesly^s attorney-general, and one
of his most honourable privy counsellors, be these
delivered at London.
• Ilarl. MSS. vol. 7006.
TO THE KING.t
May it please your excellent Majesty,
My continual meditations upon your majesty'^
service and greatness, have, amongst other things,
• Nephew of Sir Francis Bacon, being eldest son of Sh
Nicholas Bacon, eldest son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord
Keeper of the Great Seal. Sir Edmund died without issue
April 10, 1649. There are several letters to him fron> Sir
Henry Wotton, printed among the works of the latter.
f His majesty had begun his journey towards Scotland, oa
the 14th of March, 1616-7.
i2
102
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
produced this paper enclosed,* which I most
humbly pray your majesty to excuse, being that
which, in my judjrnient, I think to be good both
de vero, and ad populum. Of other things, I have
written to my Lord of Buckingham. God for-
ever preserve and prosper your majesty.
Your majesty's humble servant,
most devoted and most bounden,
Fr. Bacon.
March 23, 1016.
Endorsed,
My lord keeper to his majesty, with some addi-
tional instructions for Sir John Dighy.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.+
My honourable Lord,
Whereas, the late lord chancellor thought it fit
to dismiss out of the chancery a cause touching
Henry Skipwith, to the common law, where he
desireth it should be decided ; these are to entreat
your lordship:!^ in the gentleman's favour, that if
♦ Additional instructions to Sir John Digby,— [ambassador to
the court of Spain :] —
Besides your instructions directory to the substance of the
main errand, we would have you in the whole carriage and
passaaes of the negotiation, as well with the king himself, as
the Uuke of Lerina, and council there, intermix discourse
upon fit occasions, tliat may express ourselves to the effect
following :
That you doubt not, but that both kings, for that which
concerns religion, will proceed sincerely, both being entire
and perfect in their own belief and way. But that there are
so many noble and excellent effects, which are equally ac-
ceptable to both religions, and for the good and happiness of
the Christian world, which may arise of this conjunction, as
the union of both kings in actions of state, as may make the
difference in religion as laid aside, and almost forgotten.
As, first, that it will be a means utterly to extinguish and
extirpate pirates, which are the common enemies of mankind,
and do so much infest Europe at this time.
Also, that it may be a beginning and seed (for the like ac-
tions heretofore have had less beginnings) of a holy war
against the Turk; whereunto it seems the events of time do
invite Christian kings, in respect of the great corruption and
relaxation of discipline of war in that empire ; and much
more in respect of the utter ruin and enervation of the Grand
Signor's navy and forces by sea; which openeth a way
(with congregating vast armies by land) to suffocate and
t^tarvf Constantinople, and thereby to put those provinces
into mutiny and insurrection.
Also, that by the same conjunction there will be erected a
tribunal or praetorian power, to decide the controversies which
may arise amongst the princes and estates of Christendom,
without effusion of Christian blood ; for so much as any
estate of Christendom will hardly recede from that which the
two kings shall mediate and determine.
Also, that whereas there doth, as it were, creep upon the
ground, a disposition, in some places, to make popular estates
and leagues to the disadvantage of monarchies, the conjunc-
tion of the two kings will be able to stop and impeditu the
growth of any such evil.
Thtse discourses yon shall do well frequently to treat upon,
and therewithal to (ill up the spaces of the active part of your
negotiation; representing that it stands well with the great-
ness at;d majesty of the two kings to extend their cogitations
and the influence of their government, not only to their own
•ubjecis, but to the state of the whole world besides, specially
the Christian portion thereof.
+ Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
t This is the first of many letters which the Marquis of
B'ickiagham wrote to Lord Bacon in favour of persons who
the adverse party shall attempt to bring it now
back again into your lordship's court, you would
not retain it there, but let it rest in the place where
now it is, that, without more vexation unto him
in posting him from one to another, he may have
a final hearing and determination thereof. And
so 1 rest
Your lordship's ever at command,
G. BUCKINGHAJI.
My lord, this is a business wherein 1 spake to
my lord chancellor, whereupon he dismissed the
suit,
Lincoln, the 4th of April, 1617.
THE LORD KEEPER TO HIS NIECE, TOUCHING HER
MARRIAGE.
Good Niece, — Amongst your other virtues, I
know there wanteth not in you a mind to hearken
to the advice of your friends. And, therefore,you
will give me leave to move you again more seri-
ously than before in the match with Mr. Comp-
troller.* The state wherein you now are is to be
preferred before marriage, or changed for marriage,
not simply the one or the other, but according as,
by God's providence, the offers of marriage are
more or less fit to be embraced. This gentleman
is religious, a person of honour, being counsellor
of state, a great officer, and in very good favour
with his majesty. He is of years and health fit
to be comfortable to you, and to free you of bur-
densome cares. He is of good means, and a wise
and provident man, and of a loving and excellent
good nature; and, I find, hath set his afl'ections
upon you ; so as I foresee you may sooner change
your mind, which, as you told me, is not yet to-
wards marriage, than find so happy a choice. I
hear he is willing to visit you before his going
into France, which, by the king's commandment,
is to be within some ten days : and I could wish
you used him kindly, and with respect. His re-
turn out of France is intended before Michaelmas.
God direct you, and be with you. I rest
Your very loving UQcle and assured friend,
Fr. Bacon.
Dorset House, this i28th of April, 1617.
had causes depending in, or likely to come into the court of
Chancery. And it is not improbable that such recommenda-
tions were considered in that age as less extraordinary and
irregular than they would appear now. The marquis made
the same kind of applications to Lord Bacon's successor, the
Lord Keeper Williams, in whose life, by Bishop Ilacket, part
i. p. 107, we are informeil, that " there was not a cause of
moment, but, as soon as it came to publication, one of the
parties brought letters from this mighty peer, and the Lord
Keeper's patron.
♦ Sir Thomas Edmondes, who had been appointed to lliat
office, December 21, 1616, and January 19, 1617-8, was made
treasurer of the household. He had been married to Mag-
dalen, one of the daughters and coheirs of Sir John Wood,
knight, clerk of the signet, which lady died at Paris, De
cemlier31,1614.
The proposal for a second marriage between him and the
lord keeper's niece does not appear to have had success.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
103
TO THE LORD KEEPER.*
Mv HONOURABLE LoRD,
1 have acquainted his majesty with your letters,
wlio liked all your proceedings well, saving only
the point, for which you have since made amends,
in oheying his pleasure touching the proclama-
tion. His majesty would have your lordship go
thoroughly about the business of Ireland, where-
into you are so well entered, especially at this
time, that the chief justicef is come over, who
hath delivered his opinion thereof to his majesty,
and hath understood what his majesty conceived
of the same : wherewith he will acquaint your
lordship, and with his own observation and judg-
ment of the businesses of that country.
I give your lordship hearty thanks for your care
to satisfy my Lady of Rutland 's:^; desire ; and will
be as careful, when I come to York, of recom-
mending your suit to the bishop. § So I rest
Your lordship's ever at command,
G. Buckingham.
Newark, the 5th of April, 1617.
he can receive no assurance from your lordship
of any precedent in that kind, his maje?ty intend-
eth not so to precipitate the business, as to
expose that dignity to censure and contempt, in
omitting the solemnities required, and usually
belonging unto it.
His majesty, though he were a while troubled
with a little pain in his back, which hindered his
hunting, is now, God be thanked, very well, and
as merry as ever he was ; and we have all held
out well.
I showed his majesty your letter, who taketh
very well your care and desire to hear of his
health. So I commit you to God, and rest
Your lordship's most assured friend
to do yon service,
G. BuCXINGHAM.
Aukland, the 18th of April, IfilT.
Since the writing of this letter I have had some
farther speech with his majesty, touching my
Lord Brackley ; and find, that if, in your lord-
ship's information in the course, you write any
thing that may tend to the furthering of the de-
spatch of it in that kind, he desireth it may be
done.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.||
Mv HONOURABLE LoRD,
I spake at York with the archbishop,^ touching
the house, which he hath wholly put into your
hands to do with it what your lordship shall be
pleased.
I have heretofore, since we were in this journey,
moved his majesty for a despatch of my Lord
Brackley's** business: but, because his majesty
never having heard of any precedent in the like
case, was of opinion, that this would be of ill con-
sequence in making that dignity as easy as the
pulling out of a sword to make a man a knight,
and so make it of little esteem, he was desirous
to be assured, first, that it was no new course,
before he would do it in that fashion. But since
» Hurl. MS8. vol. 7006.
+ Sir John Denhatii, one of the Lords Justices of Ireland
in 1616. He was made one of the Barons of the Exchequer
in EnRlai.d, May 2, 1617. He died, January 6, 1638, in the
eightieth year of his ace. He was the first who set up cus-
toms in Ireland, (not but there were laws for the same be-
fore;) of which the first year's revenue amounted but to
5001.; but before his death, which was about twenty-lwo
years after, they were let for 54,000/. per annum. — Borlasc's
Rtduction of Ireland to the Crown of England, p. 200. Edit.
London, 1675.
t Frances, Countess of Rutland, first wife of Francis, Earl
of Rutland, and daughter and coheir of Sir Henry Knevet, of
Charleton, in Wiltshire, knight. She had by the earl an only
daughter and heir, Catharine, first married to George Marquis,
and afterwards Duke of Uuckiiiglmn) ; and secondly to Ran-
dolph Macdonald, Earl, and afterwards Marquis, of Antrim,
in Ireland.
i Relating to York House.
II Harl. MSS. vol.7006. U Dr. Tobie Matthew.
*• Who desired to be created earl in an unusual manner,
by letters patents, without the delivering of the patent by the
king's own hand, or without the ordinary solemnities of crea-
tion. He was accordingly created Earl of liridi;e water, May
87, 1017.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.*
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
I send your lordship the warrant for the queen,|
signed by his majesty, to whom 1 have likewise
delivered your lordship's letter. And, touching
the matter of the pirates, his majesty cannot yet
resolve; but within a day or two your lordship
shall see a despatch, which he purposeth to send
to the lords of his council in general, what his
opinion and pleasure is in that point.
I would not omit this opportunity to let your
lordship know, that his majesty, God be thanked,
is in very good health, and so well pleased with
his journey, that I never saw him better nor
merrier. So I rest
Your lordship's ever at command,
G. Buckingham.
From Newcastle, the 23d of April, 1017.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.
Mv HONOURABLE LoRD,
I understand that Sir Lewis Tresham hath a
suit depending in the Chancery before your lord-
ship ; and, therefore, out of my love and respect
toward him, I have thought fit to recommend him
unto your favour so far only as may stand with
justice and equity, which is all he desireth,
having to encounter a strong party. And, because
• Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
+ Relating to her house. See the lord keeper's letter o'
April 7, 1617, printed in his works.
104
LETFERS FROM BIRCH.
he is shortly to go into Spain about some other
business of his own, I farther desire your lordship
to give him what expedition you can, that he may
receive no prejudice by his journey.
Your lordship's ever at command,
G. Buckingham.
Endorsed— May 6, 1616.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.*
Mv HONOURABLE LoRD,
I have, by reports, heard that which doth much
grieve and trouble me, that your lordship hath,
through a pain in one of your legs, been forced to
keep your chamber. And, being desirous to un-
derstand the true estate of your health, which
reports do not always bring, I entreat your lord-
ship to favour me with a word or two from your-
self, which, I hope, will bring me the comfort I
desire, who cannot but be very sensible of what-
soever happenelh to your lordship, as being
Your lordship's most affectionate
to do you service,
G. Buckingham.
From Edinburgh, the 3d of June, 1617.
His majesty, God be thanked, is very well, and
safely returned from his hunting journey.
to the earl of buckingham.
My very good Lord,
This day 1 have made even with the business
of the kingdom for common justice; not one
cause unheard ; the lawyers drawn dry of all the
motions they were to make; not one petition
unanswered. And this, I think, could not be
said in our age before. This I speak, not out of
ostentation, but out of gladness, when I have
done my duty. I know men think I cannot continue
if I should thus oppress myself with business : but
that account is made. The duties of life are more
than life; and if I die now, I shall die before the
world be weary of me, which, in our times, is
somewhat rare. And all tnis while I have been
a little unperfect in my foot. But I have taken
l)ains more like the beast with four legs than like
a man with scarce two legs. But if it be a gout,
which 1 do neither acknowledge, nor much dis-
claim, it is a good-natured gout ; for I have no
lage of it, and it goeth away quickly. I have
hope it is but an accident of changing from a field
airf to a Thames air ;:J: or rather, I think, it is the
distance of the king and your lordship from me,
rhat doth congeal my humours and spirits.
•'Harl.MSS. vol. 7006.
1 Gray's Inn.
% Dorset House, originally belonging to the Bishops of
Salisbury, afterwards the house of Sir Richard Sackville,
and '.hen of his son, Sir Thomas, Earl of Dorset, and lord
treasurer.
When I had written this letter, 1 received your
lordship's letter of the third of this present, where-
in your lordship showeth your solicitous care of
my health, which did wonderfully comfort me.
And it is true, that at this ])reserit I am very well,
and my supposed gout quite vanished.
I humbly pray you to commend my service,
infinite in desire, howsoever limited in ability, to
his majesty, to hear of whose health and good
disposition is to me the greatest beatitude which
I can receive in this world. And I humbly be-
seech his majesty to pardon me, that I do not now
send him my account of council business, and
other his royal commands, till within these four
days ; because the flood of business of justice did
hitherto wholly possess me; which, I know,
worketh this effect, as it contentelh his subjects,
and knitteth their hearts more and more to his
majesty, though, I must confess, my mind is upon
other matters, as his majesty shall know, by the
grace of God, at his return. God ever bless and
prosper you.
Your lordship's true and most
devoted friend and servant,
Fr. Bacon.
Whitehall, this 8th of June, 1617.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.
My honourable Lord,
Your lordship will understand, by Sir Thomas
Lake's letter, his majesty's directions touching
the surveyor's deputy of the Court of Wards.
And though I assure myself of your lordship's
care of the business, which his majesty maketh
his own : yet, my respect to Sir Robert Naunton*
maketh me add my recommendation thereof to
your lordship, whom I desire to give all the fur-
therance and assistance you can to the business,
that no prejudice or imputation may light upon
Sir Robert Naunton, through his zealous affection
to attend his majesty in this journey.
I will not omit to let you know, that his majesty
is very well, and receiveth much contentment in
his journey. And with this conclusion I rest
Your lordship's most affectionate
to do you service,
G. Buckingham
Edinburgh, the 11th of June, 1617.
to the lord viscount fent0n.1
My very good Lord,
I thank your lordship for your courteous letter;
and, if I were asked the question, I would always
* Surveyor of the Court of Wards.
f Sir Thomas Erskine, who, for his service to the king, in
the attempt of the Earl of Gowry, was, upon his mnjesty'g
accession to the throne of England, made captain of liis guard
in the room of Sir Walter Ralegh. He was afterwards
created Earl of Kelly.
LETFERS FROM BIRCH.
105
choose rather to have a letter of no news; for
news imports alteration; but letters of kindness
and respect bring' that which, though it be no
news amongst friends, is more welcome.
I am exceedingly glad to hear, that tliis journey
of his majesty, which I never esteemed more than
a long progress, save that it had reason of state
joined with pleasure, doth sort to be so joyful and
so comfortable.
For your Parliament, God speed it well : and
for ours, you know the sea would be calm, if it
were not for the winds: and I hope the king,
whensoever that shall be, will find those winds
reasonably well laid. Now that the sun is got
up a little higher, God ordains all things to the
happiness of iiis majesty and his monarchy.
My health, I thank God, is good; and I hope
this supposed gout was but an incomer. I ever
rest
Your lordship's affectionate
and assured friend,
Fr. Bacon.
Whitehali, June 18, 1G17.
TO THE LORD KEEPER, WRITTEN FROM SCOT-
LAND, JUNE 28, 1616.*
I WILL begin to speak of the business of this
day; opus hujus diet in die suo, which is of the
Parliament. It began on the 7th of tliis month,
and ended this day, being the 28th of June. His
majesty, as I perceived by relation, rode thither
)n great state the first day. These eyes are wit-
nesses that he rode in an honourable fashion, as I
liave seen him in England, this day. All the
lords rode in English robes; not an English lord
on horseback, though all the Parliament House at
his majesty's elbow, but my Lord of Bucking-
ham, who waited upon the king's stirrup in his
collar, but not in his robes. His majesty, the first
day, by way of preparation to the subject of the
Parliament, made a declaratory speech, wherein
he expressed himself what he would not do, but
what he would do. The relation is too prolix for
a sheet of paper ; and 1 am promised a copy of it,
which I will bring myself unto your lordship with
all the speed I may. But I may not be so reserved
as not to tell your lordship, that in that speech
his majesty was pleased to do England and
Englishmen much honour and grace; and that he
studied nothing so much, sleeping and waking,
as to reduce the barbarity (I have warrant to use
the king's own word) of this country unto the
sweet civility of ours; adding, farther, that if the
Scottish nation would be as docible to learn the
goodness of England, as they are teachable to
limp after their ill, he might with facility prevail
in his desire : for they had learned of the English
to drink healths, to wear coaches and gay clothes,
• From a copy in 'Jje paper-office.
Vol. III.— U
to take tobacco, and to speak neither Scottish noi
English. Many such diseases of the times his
majesty was pleased to enumerate, not fit for my
pen to remember, and graciously to recognise
how much he was beholden to the English nation
for their love and conformity to his desires. The
king did personally and infallibly sit amongst
them of the Parliament every day; so that there
fell not a word amongst them but his majesty was
of council with it.
The whole assembly, after the wonted manner,
was abstracted into eight bishops, eight lords,
eight gentlemen, knights of the shires, and eight
lay burgesses for towns. And r^iis epitome of
the whole Parliament did meet e\ery day in one
room to treat and debate of the great affairs of the
kingdom. There was exception taken against
some of the Lower House, which were returned
by the country, being pointed at as men averse in
their appetites and humours to the business of the
Parliament, who were deposed of their attendance
by the king's power, and others, better affected,
by the king's election, placed in their room.
The greatest and weightiest articles, agitated
in this Parliament, were specially touching the
government of the kirk and kirkmen, and for the
abolishing of hereditary sheriffs to an annual
charge; and to enable justices of the peace to
have as well the real execution as the title of their
places. For now the sheriff doth hold jura rega-
lia in his circuit, without check or controlment;
and the justices of the peace do want the staff of
their authority. For the church and common-
wealth, his majesty doth strive to shape the frame
of this kingdom to the method and degrees of the
government of England, as by reading of the
several acts it may appear. The king's desire
and travail herein, though he did suffer a momen-
tary opposition, (for his countrymen will speak
boldly to him,) hath in part been profitable. For,
though he hath not fully and complementally
prevailed in all things, yet, he hath won ground
in most things, and hath gained acts of parliament
to authorize particular commissioners, to set down
orders for the church and churchmen, and to treat
with sheriffs for their offices, byway of pecuniary
composition. But all these proceedings are to
have an inseparable reference to his majesty. If
any prove unreasonably and undutifully refractory,
his majesty hath declared himself, that he will pro-
ceed against him by the warrant of the law, and by
the strength of his royal power.
His majesty's speech this day had a necessary
connexion with his former discourse. He was
pleased to declare what was done and determined
in the progress of this Parliament; his reasons
for it; and that nothing was gotten by shoulder-
ing or wrestling, but by debate, judj,nient, and
reason, without any interposition of his royal
power in any thing. He commanded the lords
in state of judicature to give life, by a careful
106
LL ITERS FROM BIRCH.
execution unto the law, which otherwise was but
moriuum cadaver et boria peritura.
Thus much touching the legal part of my ad-
vertisement unto you. I will give your lordship
an account in two lines of the complement of the
country, time, and place.
The country affords more profit and better con-
tentment than I could ever promise myself by my
reading of it.
The king was never more cheerful in body and
mind, never so well pleased : and so are the Eng-
lish of all conditions.
'I'he entertainment very honourable, very gene-
ral, and very full : every day feasts and invita-
tions. I know not who paid for it. They strive,
by direction, to give us all fair contentment, that
we may know that the country is not so contempt-
ible, but that it is worth the cherishing.
The lord provost of this town, who in Eng-
lish is the mayor, did feast the king and all the
lords this week; and another day all the gentle-
men. And, I confess, it was' performed with
state, with abundance, and with a general content.
There is a general and a bold expectation, that
Mr. John Murray shall be created a baron of this
country, and some do chat, that my Lord of
Buckingham's Mr. Wray shall be a groom of the
bed-chamber in his place.
There hath been yet no creation of lords since
his majesty did touch Scotland; but of knights
many, yet not so many as we heard in England ;
but it is thcAight all the pensioners will be knights
to-morrow. Neither are there any more English
lords sworn of the privy council here, save my
Lord of Buckingham.
The Earl of Southampton, Montgomery, and
Hay, are already gone for England.
I have made good profit of my journey hither;
for I have gotten a transcript of the speech which
your lordship did deliver at your first and happy
sitting in Chancery, which I could not gain in
England. It hath been showed to the king, and
received due approbation. The God of heaven,
all-wise and all-sufficient, guard and assist your
lordship in all your actions : for I can read here
whatsoever your lordship doth act there; and
your courses be such as you need not to fear to
give copies of them. But the king's ears be
wide and long, and he seeth with many eyes.
All this works for your honour and comfort. I
pray God nothing be soiled, heated, or cooled in
the carriage. Envy sometimes attends virtues,
and not for good ; and these bore certain proprie-
ties and circumstances inherent to your lordship's
mind: which men may admire, I cannot express.
But 1 will wade no farther time herein, lest I should
seem eloquent. I have been too saucy with your
Inrdship, and held you too long with my idleness.
He that takes time from your lordship robs the
vublic. God give your body health, and your
6 "il heaven.
My Lord of Pembroke, my Lord of Arundel,
my Lord Zouch, and Mr. Secretary Lake, were
new sworn of the council here.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I have sent enclosed a letter to his majesty con-
cerning the strangers ; in which business I had
formerly written to your lordship a joint letter
with my Lord of Canterbury, and my lord
privy seal,* and Mr. Secretary Winwood.
I am, I thank God, much relieved with my
being in the country air, and the order I keep ; so
that, of late years, I have not found my health
better.
Your lordship writeth seldoraer than you were
wont ; but when you are once gotten into Eng-
land you will be more at leisure. God bless and
prosper you.
Your lordship's true and devoted
friend and servant,
Fr. Bacon.
Goriiambury, July 29, 1617.
to the lord keeper.+
My honourable Lord,
I have acquainted his majesty with your letter,
who, in this business of Sir John Bennet's,^
hath altogether followed your lordship's direction.
His majesty hath at length been pleased to
despatch Mr. Lowder,§ according to your lord-
ship's desire, for the place in Ireland. What trie
cause of the stay was, I shall impart to your
lordship when I see you, being now too long to
relate.
His majesty hath not yet had leisure to read the
little book you sent me to present unto him ; but,
as soon as I see the fittest opportunity, I will offer
it to him again.
His majesty, God be thanked, is very well ;
and I am exceeding glad to hear of your health,
that you are of so good term proof, which is the
best of it, being you are in those businesses put
most to the trial, which I wish may long continue
in that strength, that you may still do his majesty
and your country that good service, whereof we
• Edward, Earl of Worcester.
+ Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
t Of Godslow, in Oifordshire, who was sent to Brussels to
the archduke, to expostulate with him concerning a libel on
the Itinp, imputed to Eryclus Puteanus, and entitled, /^aoct
Casauboni Corona Ref^ia.
{ He had been solicitor to the queen, but finding her dislike
to him, he was willing to part with his place for that of one
of the barons of the exchequer in Ireland ; for which he
was recommended by the lord keeper to the Earl of Buckiug-
ham, in a letter dated at Whitehall, May 25, 1617
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
hear so general appiobation Uiat it much rejoiceth
me, who rest
Your lordship's, ever at command,
G. Buckingham.
Falkland, the 5th
of July, 1617.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.
My Lord : — I have received your lordship's let-
ter by your man ; but having so lately imparted
my mind to you in my former letters, I refer your
lordship to those letters without making a need-
less repetition, and rest
Your lordship's at command,
G. Buckingham.
Ashton, the 25lh of Aug. 1617.
Endorsed.
To my honourable lord, Sir Francis Bacon,
Knight, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of
England.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.
My honourable Lord,
His majesty hath spent some time with Sir
Lionel Cranfield, about his own business,
wherewith he acquainted his majesty. He hath
had some conference with your lordship, upon
whose report to his majesty of your zeal and
care of his service, which his majesty accepteth
very well at your hands, he hath commanded Sir
L. Cranfield to attend your lordship, to signify
his farther pleasure for the furtherance of his
service ; unto whose relation I refer you. Hi8
majesty's farther pleasure is, you acquaint no
creature living wit'.i it, he having resolved to rely
upon your care and trust only.
Thus, wishing you all happiness, I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend
and servant,
G. Buckingham.
October 26, 1617.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKIXGIIAM.
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
I have reformed the ordinance according to his
majesty's corrections, which were very material.
And for the first of phrasis non placet, I under-
stand his majesty, nay, farther,.! understand my-
self, the better for it. I send your lordship there-
fore six privy seals ; for every court will look to
have their several warrant. I send also, two bills
for letters patents, to the two reporters : and for
the persons, I send also four names, with my
commendations of those two, for which I will
answer upon my knowledge. The names must
be filled in the blanks ; and so they are to be
returned.
For the business of the Court of Wards, your
lordship's letter found me in the care of it.
Therefore, according to his majesty's command-
ment, by you signified, I have sent a letter for his
majesty's signature. And the directions them-
selves are also to be signed. These are not to be
returned to me, lest the secret come out ; but to
be sent to my Lord of Wallingford, as the packets
use to be sent.
I do much rejoice, to hear of his majesty's
health and good disposition. For me, though I
am incessantly in business, yet the reintegra-
tion of your love, maketh me find all things
easy.
God preserve and prosper you.
Your lordship's true friend,
and devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon.
York House,
October 18, 1G17.
SIR FRANCIS ENGLEFYLD* TO THE LORD KEEPER.
Right Honourable,
Give me leave, I beseech your lordship, for
wan<^ of other means, by this paper to let your
lordship understand, that notwithstanding I rest
in no contempt, nor have to my knowledge broken
any order made by your lordship, concerning
the trust, either for the payment of money, or
assignment of land ; yet, by reason of my close
imprisonment, and the unusual carriage of this
cause against me, I can get no counsel who will,
in open court, deliver my case unto your lordship.
I must, therefore, humbly leave unto your lord-
ship's wisdom, how far your lordship will, upon
my adversary's fraudulent bill, exhibited by the
wife without her husband's privity, extend the
most powerful arm of your authority against me,
who desire nothing but the honest performance
of a trust, which 1 know not how to leave if I
would. So, nothing doubting but your lordship
will do what appertaineth to justice, and the emi-
♦ This gentleman was very unfortunate in his behaviour,
with regard to those who had the great seal; for in Hilary
Term, of the year 1G23-4, he was fined three thousand
pounds by the Star Chamber, for casting an imputation of
bribery on the Lord Keeper WillianiR, Bishop of Lincoln.
MS. letter of Mr. Chai'iiberlain, to Sir Dudley Carleton,
dated at London, 1623^. Sir Francis had been committed to
the Fleet for a contempt of a decree in Chancery; upon
which he was charged, by Sir John Bennet, with having
said before sufficient witness, "that he could prove this holy
bishop judge had been bribed by some that fared well in their
causes " A few days after the sentence in the Star Cham-
ber, the lord keeper sent for Sir Francis, and told him ho
would refute his foul aspersions, and prove upon him that he
scorned the pelf of the world, or to exact, or make lucre, of
any man ; and that, for his own part, he forgave him every
penny of his fine, and would crave the same mercy towards
him from the king.— Bishop Hacket's Life of Archbishop
Williams, Part L, p. 83, 84.
108
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
nent place of equity your lordship holdeth, I
must, since I cannot understand from your lord-
ship the cause of my late close restraint, rest,
during your lordship's pleasure.
Your lordship's close prisoner in the Fleet,
Fr. Englefyld.
Oct. 28, 1617.
to the lord keeper.
My honourable Lord,
I have thought good to renew my motion to
your lordship, in the behalf of my Lord of Hun-
tingdon, my Lord Stanhope, and Sir Thomas
Gerard ; for that I am more particularly ac-
quainted with tiieir desires; they only seeking
the true advancement of the charitable uses, unto
which the land, given by their grandfather, was
intended: which, as I am informed, was meant
by way of a corporation, and by this means, that
it might be settled upon the schoolmaster, usher,
and poor, and the coheirs to be visitors. The
tenants might be conscionably dealt withal ; and
so it will be out of the power of any feoffees to
abuse the trust; which, it hath been lately
proved, have been hitherto the hindrance of this
good work. These coheirs desire only the ho-
nour of their ancestor's gift, and wisli the money,
misemployed and ordered to be paid into court by
Sir Jolin Harper, may rather be bestowed by
your lordship's discretion for the augmentation
of the foundation of their ancestors, than by the
censure of any other. And so I rest
Your lordship's servant,
G. Buckingham.
Theobalds, November 12.
Eiuiorsed,-1017.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.f
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
Though I had resolved to give your lordship no
more trouble in matters of controversy dependino-
before you, with wiiat importance soever my let-
ters had been, yet the respect I bear unto this
gentleman hath so far forced my resolution, as to
recommend unto your lordship the suit, which, I
am informed by him, is to receive a hearing before
you on Monday next, between Barneby Leigh and
Sir Edward Dyer, plaintilfs, and Sir Thomas
Thynne,:|: defendant ; wherein I desire your lord-
ship's favour on the plaintiffs so far only as the
justice of their cause shall require. And so I rest
Your lordship's faithful servant,
G. Buckingham.
■Newmarket, the 15th of November.
Endorsed, 1617.
• Harl MSS. vol. 7006. f Ihid.
t Eldest son of Sir John Thynne, knicht, who died, Novem-
ber 21, 1604. This Sir Thomas's yoiineer son by his first
V ife, Marv, daughter of Gforee, Lord Audley, was father of
Thomas Thynne, Esq. ; assassinated by the followers of
r«unt Conigsmark, February 12, 1682-3.
to the lord keeper.*
My honourable Lord,
The certiticate being returned upon the com-
mission touching Sir Richard Haughton's alum
mines, I have thought fit to desire your lordship's
furtherance in the business, which his majesty
(as your lordship will see by his letter) much
affecteth as a bargain for his advantage, and for
the present relief of Sir Richard Haughton.
What favour your lordship shall do him therein
I will not fail to acknowU^dge, and will ever rest
Your lordship's faithful servant,
G. Buckingham.
Endorsed,
Received, November 16, IfilT.
TO THE LORD KEEPER. t
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
I have acquainted his majesty with your lord-
ship's letter, who liketh well of the judges' opi-
nion you sent unto him, and hath pricked the
sherifFof Buckinghamshire in the roll you sent,
which I returned signed unto your lordship.
His majesty takes very well the pains you have
taken in sending to Sir Lionel Cranfield ; and
desireth you to send to him again, and to quicken
him in the business.
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
His majesty liketh well the course taken about
his household, wherewith he would have your
lordship, and the rest of his council, to go forward.
Newmarket, the 17th November, 1617.
Endorsed,
My Lord nf Buckingham showing his majesly's ap'
probation of the courses held touching the household.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKINGHAM.!
Mr VERY GOOD Lord,
The last letter of my lord's, whereof the conclu-
sion, indeed, is a little blunt, as the king calleth
it, was concluded in my absence, which hath been
but once since I came to this town ; and brought
me by the clerk of the council, as I sat in
Chancery. Whereupon I retired to a little closet
I have there, and signed it, not thinking fit to
sever.
For my opinion, I despatched it the morrow
following. And till Sir Lionel Cranfield§ be
♦ Harl. MSS. vol. 7006. + Ibid
t In answer to his lordship's letter from Newmarket, No
vember 19, 1617, printed in Lord Bacon's Works.
J He was originally a merchant in the city of London, in
troduced to the king's kriowledj;e by the Ear! of Northamp-
ton, and into his service by the Earl of Buckingham, being
the great projector for reforming the king's househcdd, ad-
vancing the customs, and other services ; for which he wa«
made lord treasurer, Baron Cranfield, and Earl of Middlesex;
but being accused by the House of Commons for misdemean-
ors in his office, he had a severe sentence i>a.ss';u upon bint
by the lords in 1624.
LETTERS FiiOM BIRCH.
109
able to execute his part in the sub-commission, it
will, in my opinion, not be so fit to direct it. He
crept to nie yesternight, but he is not well. I
did his majesty's message to him touching the
tobacco ; and he said he would give his majesty
very real and solid satisfaction touching the
same.
This is all for the present I shall trouble your
lordship withal, resting ever
Your lordship's true friend and devoted servant,
Fb. Bacon.
November 20, 1617.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.*
MV HONOURABLE LoRD,
His majesty liketh very well of the draught
your lordship sent of the letter for the sub-com-
mission, and hath signed it as it was, without
any alteration, and sent it to the lords. Which
is all I have to write at this time, but that I ever
rest your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, the 2d of December, 1617.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.f
My honourable Lord,
His majesty hath been pleased to refer a peti-
tion of one Sir Thomas Blackstones to your lord-
ship, who being brother-in-law to a gentleman
whom I much respect, Sir Henry Constable, I
have, at his request, yielded to recommend his
business so far to your lordship's favour, as you
shall find his case to deserve compassion, and may
stand with the rules of equity. And so I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmaiket, the 4th of December.
Endorsed, 1617.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKINGHAM.
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
Your lordship may marvel, that together with
the letter from the board, which you see passed
80 well, there came no particular letter from my-
self; wherein, though it be true, that now this
very evening I have made even with the causes
of Chancery, and comparing with the causes
heard by my lord,:|: that dead. is, of Michaelmas
term was twelvemonth, 1 find them to be double
so many and one more ; besides that the causes
that I despatch do seldom turn upon me again, as
his many times did ; yet, nevertheless, I do as-
• H.irl. ^fSS. vol. TOOC. f Ibid.
t Chaiiiellor Ellesiiiere.
, sure your lordship, that should have been no
I excuse to me, who shall ever assign both to the
causes of the subject, yea, and to my health, but
the leavings of times after his majesty's business
done. But the truth is, I could not speak with
Sir Lionel Cranfield, with whom of necessity I
was to confer about the names, till this after-
noon.
First, therefore, I send the names by his ad-
vice, and with mine own good allowance of those,
which we wish his majesty should select ; where-
in I have had respect somewhat to form, more
to the avoiding of opposition, but most to the
service.
Two most important effects his majesty's letter
hath wrought already : the one, that we perceive
bis majesty will go through stitch, which goeth
to the root of our disease. The other, that it
awaketh the particular officers, and will make
their own endeavours and propositions less per-
functory, and more solid and true for the future.
Somewhat is to be done presently, and somewhat
by seasonable degrees. For the present my ad-
vice is, his majesty would be pleased to write
back to the table, that he doth well approve that
we did not put back or retard the good ways we
were in of ourselves ; and that we understood his
majesty's right: that his late direction was to
give help, and not hindrance to the former courses ;
and that he doth expect the propositions we have
in hand, when they are finished : and that for the
sub-commissions, he hath sent us the names he
hath chosen out of those by us sent and pro-
pounded ; and that he leaveth the particular
directions from time to time, in the use of the sub-
commissioners, wholly to the table.
This I conceive tobethefiiirest way; first to seal
the sub-commission without opening the nature
of their employments, and without seeming that
they should have any immediate dependence upon
his majesty, but merely upon the table.
As for that which is to be kept in breast, and to
come forth by parts, the degrees are these:
First, to employ the sub-cominissioners in the
reconsidering of those branches, which the several
officers shall propound.
Next, in taking consideration of other branches
of retrenchment, besides those which shall be
propounded.
The third, to take into consideration the great
and huge arrears and debts in every office;
whether there be cause to abate them upon deceit
or abuse ; and at least how to settle them best,
both for the king's honour, and avoiding of
damour, and for the taking away, as much a?
j may be, that same ill influence and effect, where
I by the arrear past destroys the good husbandly
I and reformation to come.
The fourth is to proceed from the consideration
of the retrenchments and arrears to the improve-
ments.
K
110
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
. All these four, at least the last three, I wish not
to be stirred in till his majesty's coming.
God ever preserve and prosper you.
Your lordship's true friend
and devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon.
Your lordship will be pleased to have
care of the bestowing of this letter.
York House, this 6th of December, 1617.
little
TO THE LORD KEEPER.
My Lord, — I have received so many letters late-
ly from your lordship, that I cannot answer them
severally : but the ground of them all being only
this, that your lordship feareth I am so incensed
against you that I will hearken to every informa-
tion that is made unto me ; this one letter may
well make answer unto them all. As his majesty
IS not apt to give ear to any idle report against
men of your place ; so for myself, I will answer
that it is far from my disposition to take any ad-
vantage in that kind. And for your lordship's un-
kind dealing with me in this matter of my brother's,
time will try all. His majesty hath given me
commandment to make this answer in his name
to your letter to him, that he needeth not to make
any other answer to you, than that which in that
letter you make to yourself, that you know his
majesty to be so judicious, that whatsoever he
heareth, he will keep one ear open to you ; which
being indeed his own princely disposition, you
may be assured of his gracious favour in that kind.
I will not trouble your lordship with any longer
discourse at this time, being to meet you so shortly,
where will be better trial of all that hath passed,
than can be made by letters. So I rest
Your lordship's at command,
G. Buckingham.
Warwick, Sept. 5, 1617.
THE EARL OF BUCKINGHAM TO THE LORD KEEPER,
SIR FRANCIS BACON.*
My Lord, — I have made his majesty acquainted
with your note concerning that wicked fellow's
speeches, which his majesty contemneth, as is
usual to his great spirit in these cases. But notwith-
standing his majesty is pleased that it shall be
exactly tried whether this foul-mouthed fellow was
taken either with drunkenness or madness, when he
spake it. And as for your lordship's advice for
setting up again the commissioners for suits, his
majesty saith, there will be time enough for think-
ing upon that, at his coming to Hampton Court.
But his majesty's direction, in answer of your
letter, hath given me occasion to join hereunto a
* This seems to be the letter to wki^n the lord keeper re-
turned an answer, September 22, 1617, printed in bis works.
discovery upon the discourse you had with me
this day.* For I do freely confess, that your
offer of submission unto me, and in writing, if so
I would have it, battered so the unkind ness that 1
had conceived in my heart for your behaviour to-
wards me in my absence, as, out of the sparks of
my old affection towards you, I went to sound
his majesty's intention towards you, specially in
any public meeting; where I found, on the one
part, his majesty so little satisfied with your late
answer unto him, which he counted (for I protest
I use his own terms) confused and childish, and
his rigorous resolution on the other part so fixed,
that he would put some public exemplary mark
upon you ; as I protest the sight of his deep con-
ceived indignation quenched my passion, making
me upon the instant change from the person of a
party into a peacemaker ; so as I was forced
upon my knees to beg of his majesty, that he
would put no public act of disgrace upon you.
And as I dare say, no other person would have
been patiently heard in this suit by his majesty
but myself; so did I (though not without difh-
culty) obtain thus much, that he would not so far
disable you from the merit of your future service,
as to put any particular mark of disgrace upon
your person. Only thus far his majesty protest-
eth, that upon the conscience of his office he can-
not omit (though laying aside all passion) to give
a kindly reprimand at his first sitting in council,
to so many of his counsellors, as were then here
behind, and were actors in this business, for their
ill behaviour in it. Some of the particular errors
committed in this business he will name, hut
without accusing any particular persons by name.
Thus your lordship seeth the fruits of my
natural inclination. I protest, all this time past
it was no small grief unto me to hear the mouth of
so many upon this occasion open to load you with
innumerable malicious and detracting speeches,
as if no music were more pleasing to my ear, than
to rail of you : which made me rather regret the
ill-nature of mankind, that, like dogs, love to set
upon them that they see snatched at.
And to conclude, my lord, you have hereby a
fair occasion so to make good hereafter your
reputation, by your sincere service to his majesty,
as also by your firm and constant kindness to
your friends, as I may (your lordship's old friend)
participate of the comfort and honour that will
thereby come to you. Thus I rest at last
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant.
G. B.
The force of your old kindness hath made me
set down this in writing unto you, which some,
that have deserved ill of me in this action, would
be glad to obtain by word of mouth, though they
* At Windsor, according to Sir Anthony Weldon, who may
perhaps be believed in such a circumstance as this See Cimrt
and Character of King James /., p. 129
LETfERS FROM BIRCH.
Ill
be far enouorh from it for au<jht I yet see. But I
beseech your lonJship to reserve this secretly to
yourself only, till our meeting at Hampton Court,
lest his majesty should be highly offended for a
cause that I know.
Endorsed,
A Utter of reconciliation from Lord BucJcingham,
after his majesty''s return from Scotland.
TO THE LORD KEEPER*
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
Lest Mr. vSecretaryj should be come away be-
fore the delivery of this packet, I have thought fit
to direct it to your lordship, with this letter to
your lordship about the Court of Wards, and
another to the lords from his majesty. Which is
all I have now to write, but that I ever rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G, Buckingham.
Newmarket, the 7th of December, 1017
TO THE LORD KEEPER.^
My honourable Lord,
I have acquainted his majesty with your lord-
ship's letter, who hath followed your directions
therein, and written to the lords accordingly ;
which is all I have now to write to your lordship,
but that I shall ever rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, the 9th of December, 1617.
Endorsed,
My Lord of Buckingham to your lordship, showing
the king^s liking of your opinion and choice of
names for sub-commission.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKLNGHAM.
My very good Lord,
Your lordship's letters patents§ are ready. I
would be glad to be one of the witnesses at the
delivery ; and, therefore, if the king and your lord-
ship will give me leave, I will bring it to-morrow
at any hour shall be appointed.
Your lordship's ever,
Fra. Bacon.
New Year's eve, 1617.
I was bold to send your lordship, for your new
• Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
t Sir Thomas Lake ; his colleac;ue, Secretary Winwood,
died October 27, 1617 ; and Sir Robert Naiinton succeeded to
the post of secretary, January 8, 1617-8, from that of Surveyor
of the Court of Wards.
t Harl. MSS. vol.7006.
> For the title of Marquis of Buckingham to himself and the
male bcirs of his body.
year's gift, a plain cap of essay, in token that if
your lordship in any thing shall make me youx
sayman, I will be hurt before your lordship shall
be hurt. I present therefore to you my best ser-
vice, which shall be my all-year's gift.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
Sir George Chaworth and I am agreed, so that
now I shall retain the grace of my place, and yet
he rewarded. The king hath no ill bargain ; for,
he hath four times as much as he was offered by
vSir George, of increase ; and yet I take upon me
tocontent my servants, and to content him. Never-
theless, I shall think myself pleasured by his
majesty, and do acknowledge, that your lordship
hath dealt very honourably and nobly with me.
I send enclosed a letter, whereby your lordship
signifieth his majesty's pleasure to me; and I
shall make the warrant to Mr. Attorney. I desire
it may be carried in privateness. I ever rest
Your lordship's true friend
and devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon.
This New Year's eve, 1017.
TO SIR JAMES FULLERTON.*
I PRESUME to send his highness this pair of
small candlesticks, that his light, and the light
of his posterity upon the church and common-
wealth, may never fail. I pray you do me the
favour to present it to his highness, with my best
and humblest service.
Your most affectionate
and assured friend,
Ik. Bacon, C. S.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.i
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
His majesty having given order to Mr. Soli-
citor:}: to acquaint your lordship with a business
touching alehouses,§ that, upon consideration
• He had been surveyor of the lanis to Prince Charles,
when Duke of York ; and was groom of the stole to him
when king. He died in January, 1630-1.
t Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
i Sir Thomas Coventry.
{ The lord chancellor, in his letter to the Marqifis of Buck
ingham, dated January 23, 1617, printed in his works, has the
following passage: "For the suit of the alehouses, which
concerneth your brother, Mr. Ciiristopher Villiers, and Mr.
Patrick Maule, I have conferred with my lord chief justice
and Mr. Solicitor thereupon, and there is a scruple in it, that
it should be one of the grievances put down in Parliameni ;
which, if it be, I may not, in my duty and love to you, advis*
you to deal in it ; if it be not, I will mould i o the best mannei^
113
LETTERS FROM BIRCH
thereof, you might certify your opinion unto his
majesty, whether it be fit to be panted or not ; I
have thought fit to desire your lordship to give it
what favour and furtherance you may, if you find
it reasonable, and not prejudicial to his majesty's
service, because it concerneth Mr. Patrick Maule,
and my brother, Christopher Villiers, whose bene-
fit I have reason to wish and advance by any just
courses. And so I rest
Your lordship's faithful servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, the 11th
of Jan. 1617.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
Sir John Cottonj" having acquainted me with a
petition he intended to exhibit to his majesty,
that, without any apparent fault committed by
him, he was put from his office of c»s/os rotiilorum ;
I have persuaded him to forbear the presenting of
his petition until I had written to your lordship,
and received your answer. I have, therefore,
thought lit to signify unto your lordship, that he
is a gentleman of whom his majesty maketh good
esteem, and hath often occasion to use his service ;
and, therefore, besides that he is a man of good
years, and hath served long in the place, I know
his majesty, out of these respects, will be loath he
should receive any disgrace. I desire, therefore,
to understand from your lordship the reasons of
his remove, that, if I cannot give satisfaction to
the gentleman himself, I may at least make an-
swer to his majesty for that act of your lordship's,
which is alleged to be very unusual, unless upon
soine precedent misdemeanor of the party. Thus,
having in this point discharged my part in taking
the best course I could, that no complaint should
come against you to the king, I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend,
G. BUCKINGH/.M.
Newmarket, the 16th
of January, 1C17.
to the marquis of buckingham.
My very good Lord,
I do not easily fail towards gentlemen of quality,
to disgrace them. For, I take myself to have some
interest in the good wills of the gentlemen of
England, which I keep and cherish for his ma-
jesty's special service. And, for this gentleman,
and help it forward." A patent for licensinR alehouses
being afterwards granted to Sir Giles Mompesson and Sir
Frances Mitchel, and greatly abused by them, they were
punished for those abuses by the Parliament, which met
January 30, 1620-1.
* Harl. .MSS. vol. 7006.
+ Of Landwade, in Cambridgeshire, knight. He served
many years as knight of the shire for that county, and died in
1620, at the age of seventy-seven. His eldest son, Sir John
Cotton, wah created a baronet, July 14, 1641.
of whom you write. Sir John Cotton, T know no
cause in the world why I should have displaced
him, but that it was certified unto me, that it was
his own desire to resign : wherein, if I was abused,
I will restore him. But if he did consent, and,
now it is done, changeth his mind, then I would
be loath to disgrace the other, that is come in.
Therefore, 1 pray your lordship, that I may know
and be informed from himself, what passed touch
ing his consent; and I will do him reason.
Thus, with my thanks to your lordship, I will
ever rest
Your lordship's true friend
and most devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon, Cane.
January 20, 1617.
Endorsed,
To the Marquis of Buckingham, concerning Sir
John Cotion'^s resigning the place of Custos Jio'
tulorum of Cambridgeshire.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
Since I received your lordship's letter, Sir
Lionel Cranfield being here, hath informed his
majesty of the whole proceeding in his business
of the household ; which his majesty liketh very
well, and is glad it is approved by your lordship,
of whose care and pains therein he receiveth very
good satisfaction.
In the business touching Sir John Cotton, your
lordship dealeth as nobly as can be desired ; and
so, if it should come in question before his ma-
jesty, I would answer in your behalf. I leave
Sir John Cotton to inform )'our lordship by his
letter of the business, and ever rest
Your lordship's faithful servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, the 2Uh of January, 161-7.
to the lord chancellor.*
My honourable Lord,
I have been entreated by a gentleman, whom I
much respect, to recommend to your lordship's
favour Mr. John Huddy, between whom and Mr.
Richard Huddy there is, as I am informed, a
cause to be heard before your lordship in the
Chancery on Saturday next. My desire unto
your lordship is, that you would show the said
John Huddy what favour you lawfully may, and
as his cause will bear, when it cometh before
you, for my sake. Which I will not fail to
acknowledge, ever resting
Your lordship's faithful servant
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, the 28th of Jajiuary, 1617.
• Harl. MSS. vol. 7006,
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
118
r
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR. •
My honourable Lord,
I understand that his majesty hath been pleased
to refer a suit unto him by two of his servants,
Robert Maxwell and John Hunt, for the making
of sheriffs and escheators' patents, to your lord-
ship's consideration. My desire unto your lord-
ship on their behalf is, that you would show
them thus much favour for my sake, as with as
much expedition as may be, and your lordship's
other occasions may permit, to certify your
opinion thereof unto his majesty ; which I will
be ready to acknowledire, and ever rest
Your lordship's faithful servant,
G. Buckingham
Newmarket, the 4th day of February, 1G17.
r
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
Though I had resolved not to write to your
lordship in any matter between party and party ;
yet, at the earnest request of my noble friend,
the Lord Norris, to whom I account myself much
beholden, I could not but recommend unto your
lordship's favoura special friend of his. Sir Thomas
Monk, who hath a suit before your lordship in
the Chanceryf with Sir Robert Basselt ; which,
upon the report made unto me thereof, seemeth so
reasonable, that I doubt not but the cause itself
will move your lordship to favour him, if, upon
the hearing thereof, it shall appear the same
unto your lordship, as at the first sight it doth
unto me. I therefore desire your lordship to
show in this particular what favour you lawfully
may, for my sake, who will account it as done
unto myself; and will ever rest
Your lordship's faithful servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, the 4th day of Feb. 1617.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I have sent enclosed a letter to his majesty
about the public charge I am to give the last Star
Chamber day, which is this day sevennight, to
the judges and justices before the circuits. I
pray deliver it to his majesty with speed. I send
also some papers appertaining to that business,
which I pray your lordship to have in readiness,
if his majesty call for them. I ever rest
Your lordship's true friend
and devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon, Cane.
February 6, 161T.
• Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
+ Lord Bacon was afterwards accused by the House of
Coiiiinoiis of having received of Sir Thomas Monk one hun-
dred |)ie( lo ; which he did not deny, but alleged, that it was
»fler the suit was ended.
Vol.. HT
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
His majesty marvelleth, that he heareth nothing
of the business touching the gold and silver
thread ;f and therefore hath commanded me to
write unto your lordship to hasten the despatch
of it; and to give him as speedy an account
thereof as you can. And so I rest
Your lordship's faitiiful servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, 7lh of February.
Endorsed, 1617.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.J
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
I understand by this bearer, Edward Hawkins,
how great pains your lordship hath taken in the
business, which 1 recommended to you concern-
ing him, and how favourably your lordship hath
used him for my sake. For which I give your
lordship many thanks, and will be ever ready to
acknowledge your favour toward him by all the
testimonies of
Your lordship's faithful friend,
G. Buckingham.
Theobalds, the 12th of February, 1617.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.}
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
I have acquainted his majesty with your letter,
who liketh well of the course you mention in the
end of your letter, and will speak with you farther
of it at his return .to London. In the mean time,
he would have your lordship give direction to the
Master of the Rolls|| and Mr. Attorney ^ to stay
the examination. And so I rest
Your lordship's most assured
to do you service,
G.. Buckingham.
Hampton Court, the 18th of March, 1617.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR OF IRELAND.**
My Lord Ch.vncellor,
I will not have you account the days of my not
answering your letter. It is a thing imposed
upon the multitude of my business to lodge many
things faithfully, though I make no present return.
Your conjunction and good understandintj with
* Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
t A patent for the monopoly of which was granted u, .'<ii
Giles MompessonandSir Francis Mifchel, who were [)mii.<heJ
for the abuse of tliat patent by the Parliament, wh" h met
January 30, 1620-1.
t Harl. MSS. vol. 7006. J Ihid.
II Sir Julius Csesar. j\ Sir Henry Yelveton
♦♦ Dr. Thomas Jones, Archbishop of Dublin, who dien AptU
10, 1619.
k3
114
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
the deputy I approve and commend ; for I ever
loved entire and good compositions, which was
the old physic, better than fine separations.
Your friendly attributes 1 take as effects of
affection; which must be causes of any good
offices, wherewith I can requite you.
We conceive that kingdom is in growth. God
send soundness to the increase; wherein I doubt
not but your lordship will do your part. God
keep you.
Your lordship's very loving friend,
Fra. Bacon, Cane.
York House, April 15, 1018.
to the lord chief justice of ireland.*
My Lord Chief Justice,
I thank you for your letter, and assure you,
rat you are not deceived, neither in the care I
'aave of the public in that state, nor in my good
wishes, and the effects thereof, when it shall lie
in my power towards yourself.
I am glad to receive your testimony of my lord
deputy, both because I esteem your judgment,
and because it concurreth with my own.
The materials of that kingdom, which is trade
and wealth, grow on apace. I hope the form,
which giveth the best living of religion and jus-
tice, will not be behind, the rather by you, as a
good instrument. I rest •
Your lordship's assured friend,
Fr. Bacon, Cane.
York House, * ♦ of April, 1618.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.1
My honourable Lord,
I will not go about to excuse mine own fault,
by making you believe his majesty was backward
in your business ; but upon the first motion he
gave mc directions for it, which it was my negli-
gence, as I freely confess, that I have no sooner
performed, having not been slack in moving his
majesty, but in despatching your man. All is
done which your lordship desired; and I will
give order, according to his majesty's directions,
80 that your lordship shall not need to trouble
yourself any farther, but only to expect the
speedy performance of his majesty's gracious
pleasure.
I will take the first opportunity to acquaint
his majesty with the other business, and will
ever rest.
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Theobalds, the 8th of May, [1618.]
"Sir William Jones, to whom, upon his being calleil to that
j>ost, the lord keeper made a speech, printed in bis works.
Uliirl.MSS. vol. 7006.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
Whereas it hath pleased his majesty to recom-
mend unto your consideration a peiition exhibited
by Mr. Fowle, together with the grievances and
request for the rectifying of the work of gold and
silver thread ; and now understandeth that your
lordship hath called unto you the other coniniis-
sioners in that case, and spent some time to hear
what the opposers could object, and perceiveth
by a relation of a good entrance you have made
into the business; and is now informed, that
there remaineth great store of gold and silver
thread in the merchants' hands, brought from fo-
reign parts, besides that which is brought in daily
by stealth, and wrought here by underhand
workers; so that the agents want vent, with
which inconveniences it seemeth the ordinary
course of law cannot so well meet; and yet they
are enforced, for freeing of clamour, to set great
numbers of people on work ; so that the commo-
dity lying dead in their hands, wdll in a very
short time grow to a very great sum of money.
To the end, therefore, that the undertakers may
not be disheartened by these wrongs and losses,
his majesty hath commanded me to write unto
your lordship, to the end you might bestow more
time this vacation in prosecuting the course you
have so worthily begun, that all differences being
reconciled, the defects of the commission may be
also amended, for prevention of farther abuses
therein ; so as the agents may receive encourage-
ment to go on quietly in the work without dis-
turbance. And I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
From Bewly, the 20th day of Aug., 1018.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
Most honourable Lord,
Herewithal, I presumed to send a note enclosed,
both of my business in Chancery, and with my
Lord Roos, which it pleased your lordship to de-
mand of me, that so you might better do me good
in utroque genere. It may please your lordship,
after having perused it, to commend it over to the
care of Mr. Meautys for better custody.
At my parting last from your lordship, the
grief I had to leave your lordship's presence,
though but for a little time, was such, as that
being accompanied with some small corporal in-
disposition that I was in, made me forgetful to
say that, which now for his majesty's service I
thought myself bound not to silence. I was
credibly informed and assured, when the Spanish
ambassador went away, that howsoever Ralegh
and the prentices]" should fall out to be proceeded
• Earl. MSS. vol. 7006. a
t Who, on the 12ih of July, 1618, had insulted Gondomai.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
115
withal, no more instances would be made here-
after on the part of Spain for justice to be done
ever in tliese particulars: bui that if slackness
were used lu've, they would be laid up in the
deck, and would serve for materials (this was the
very word) of future and final discontentments.
Now, as the humour and design of some may
carry them towards troubling of the waters, so I
know your lordship's both nature and great place
require an appeasing them at your hands. And
I liave not presumed to say this little out of any
mind at all, that I may have, to meddle with mat-
ters so far above me, but out of a thought I had,
that I was tied in duty to lay thus much under
your lordship's eye; because I know and con-
sider of whom I heard that speech, and with how
grave circumstances it was delivered.
I beseech .Tesus to give continuance and in-
crease to your lordship's happiness ; and that, if
it may stand with his will, myself may one day
have tlie honour of casting some small mite into
that rich treasury. So I humbly do your lordship
reverence, and continue
The most obliged of your lordship's
many faithful servants,
ToBiE Matthew.
Nottingham, this 21st of August, 1018.
TO MR. (AFTERWARDS SIR) ISAAC WAKE, HIS
MAJESTY'S AGENT AT THE COURT OF SAVOY.
Mr. Wake, — I have received some letters from
you; and hearing from my Lord Cavendish*
how well he affects you, and taking notice also
of your good abilities and services in his majesty's
affairs, and not forgetting the knowledge I had,
when young, of your good father,f I thought my-
self in some measure tied not to keep from you my
good opinion of you, and my desire to give you
any furtherance in your fortunes and occasions,
whereof you may take knowledge and liberty to
use me for your good. Fare you well.
Your very loving friend,
Fr. Verulam,:!: Cane.
York House, this let of Sept., 1618.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.}
Mv HONOURABLE LoRD,
His majesty is desirous to be satisfied of the
fitness and conveniency of the gold and silver
the Spanish ambassador, on account of a boy's being hurt by
him as he was riding. [Camdeni Annales Regis Jacobi I., p.
33.] They were proceeded against by commissioners, at
Guildhall, on Wednesday, the 12th of August following;
seven being found guilty, and adjudged to six months' im-
prisonment, and to pay five hundred pounds apiece. Two
.thers were acquitted. MS. letter of Mr. Chamberlain to Sir
Dudley Carleton, London, ^/Cugust 15, 1618.
• William Cavendish, son and heir of William, created
Baron Cavendish Hanlwicke in Derbyshire, in May, 1605,
and Earl of Devonshire, July 12, 1018.
t Arthur Wake, rector of Billing in Northamptonshire,
master of the hospital of St. John in Northampton, and
Canon of Christ Church, Oxford.
} He had been created Lord Verulam on the 12th of July, 1618.
i Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
thread business ; as also of the profit that shall any
way accrue unto him thereby. Wherefore his
pleasure is, that you shall, with all convenient
speed, call unto you the Lord Chief Justice of the
King's Bench,* the attorney-general, | and the
solicitor,:|: and consider with them of every of
the said particulars, and return them to his ma-
jesty, that thereupon he may resolve what pre-
sent course to take for the advancement of the
execution thereof. And so I rest
Your lordship's faithful servant,
G. Buckingham.
Theobalds, the 4th of Oct., 1618.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My VERY GOOD Lord,
I send the commission for making Lincoln's
Inn Fields into walks, for his majesty's signature.
It is without charge to his majesty.
We have had my Lord of Ormonde§ before us.
We could not yet get him to answer dlijctly,
whether he would obey the king's award or no.
Afterwe had endured his importunity and imperti-
nences, and yet let him down to this, that his
majesty's award was not only just and within his
submission, but in his favour; we concluded in
few words, that the award must be obeyed, and
if he did refuse or impugn the execution of it in
Ireland, he was to be punished by the justice of
Ireland: if he did murmur or scandalize it here,
or trouble his majesty any more, he was to be
punished in England. Then he asked, whether
he might be gone. For that, we told him, his
majesty's pleasure was to be known.
Sir Robert Mansell hath promised to bring his
summer account this day sevennight. God pre-
serve and prosper you.
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
November 12, 1018.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.||
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
I send your lordship the commission signed by
his majesty, which he was very willing to
♦ Sir Henry Montagu.
f Sir Henry Yelverton. J Sir Thomas Coventry
$ Walter, Earl of Ormonde, grandfather of James, the first
Duke of Ormonde. This earl, upon the death of Thomas,
Earl of Ormonde and Ossory, succeeding to those honours,
should have inherited likewise the greatest part of the estate
but his right was contested by Sir Richard Preston, Lord
Dingwell, supported by the favour of King James L, aMio
made an award, which Walter, Earl of Ormonde, conceiving
to be unjust, refused to submit to, and was, by the king's
order, committed to the Fleet, where he remained tight
years before the death of that king ; but in 1025 recovered his
liberty.
U Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
116
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
despatch, as a business very commendable and
•worthy to be taken in hand.
For the Earl of Ormonde, his majesty made no
other answer, but that he hopeth he is not so
unmannerly, as to go away without taking leave
of his majesty.
For Sir Robert Mansell's account, his majesty
saith he is very sIoav, especially being but a sum-
mary account, and that he promised to bring it in
Defore : and therefore would have him tied to the
day he hath now set, without any farther delay.
This last his majesty commanded me to put in
after I had written and signed my letter.
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, the 13th of November, 1618.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
Having formerly moved your lordship in the
business of this bearer, Mr. Wyche, of whom, as
1 understand, your lordship hath had a special
care to do him favour, according to the equity of
his cause; now, seeing that the cause is shortly
to be heard, I have thought fit to continue my
recommendation of the business unto you, desir-
ing your lordship to show what favour you law-
fully may unto Mr. Wyche, according as the
justness of the cause shall require : which I will
acknowledge as a courtesy from your lordship,
and ever rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, the 18th of November, 1618.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
I send your lordship the bill of the sheriff of
Hereford and Leicester, pricked and signed by
his majesty, who hath likewise commanded me to
send unto your lordship these additions of instruc-
tions, sent unto him by the surveyor and receiver
of the Court of Wards; wherein, because he
knoweth not what to prescribe without under-
standing what objections can be made, his plea-
sure is, that your lordship advise and consider of
tbem, and send him your opinion of them, that he
may then take such course therein, as shall be fit,
}Iis majesty commanded me to give you thanks
for your care of his service ; and so I rest
Your lordship's faithful servant,
G. Buckingham.
Npy^irorne-j i-2d of November.
Endorsed, 1618.
• Harl. M8S. vol. 7006.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
I have written a letter unto your lordship, which
will be delivered unto you in behalf of Dr. Steward ;
and, besides, have thought fit to use all freedom
with you in that, as in other things; and, there-
fore, have thought fit to tell you, that he being a
man of very good reputation, and a stout man,
that will not yield to any thing, wherein he con-
ceiveth any hard course against him, I should be
sorry he should make any complaint against you.
And, therefore, if you can advise of any course,
how you may be eased of that burden, and freed
from his complaint, without show of any fear of
him, or any thing he can say, I will be ready to
join with you for the accomplishment thereof:
and so, desiring you to excuse the long stay ot
your man, I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
From Newmarket, 3d of December, 1618.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
Yesternight we despatched the Lord Ridge-
way's account. Good service is done. Seven
or eight thousand pounds are coming to the king,
and a good precedent set for accounts.
There came to the seal about a fortnight since
a strange book passed by Mr. Attorney to one Mr.
Hall ; and it is to make subjects, (for so is deniza-
tion,) and this to go to a private use, till some
thousand pounds be made of it. The number
one hundred denizens. And, whereas, all books
of that nature had an exception of merchants,
(which iraporteth the king not much in his
customs only, for that is provided for in the book,
but many other ways,) this takes in merchants
and all. I acquainted the commissioners with it,
and by one consent it is stayed. But let me
counsel his majesty to grant forth a commission
of this nature, so to raise money for himself, being
a flower of the crown : and Hall may be rewarded
out of it ; and it would be to principal persons,
that it may be carried with election and discretion,
whom to admit to denization, and whom not.
God ever bless and prosper you.
Your lordship's most faithful
and obliged friend and servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
December 8, 1618.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR +
My honourable Lord,
I thank your lordship for the favour, which I
understand Sir Francis Engelfyld hath received
• Harl. M88. vol. 7006.
tlbid.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
IIT
from your lordship upon my last letter, where-
unln I desire your lordsliip to add this one favour
more, (which is the same that I understand your
lordship granted him at Christmas last,) to give
him liberty for the space of a fortnight, to follow^
his business in his own person ; whereby he may
bring it to the more speedy end, putting in
security according to the ordinary course, to ren-
der himself prisoner again as soon as that time
is expired : which is all that I desire for him, and
in which I will acknowledge your lordship's
favour towards him ; and ever rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, the lOtli of December, 1618.
to the marquis of buckingham.
My very good Lord,
I send you herewith the copy of a letter which
we, the commissioners for Ormonde's cause, have
written to the Deputy'of Ireland, according to his
majesty's pleasure, signified by Sir Francis Blun-
dell; which I humbly desire his majesty would
peruse, that if it do not attain his meaning, as
we conveyed it, we may second it with a new
letter.
We have appointed Monday morning for these
mint businesses, referred by his majesty to certain
commissioners, and we will carry it sine strepitu.
The patent touching Guinea and Bynny for the
trade of gold, stayed first by myself, and after by
his majesty's commandment, we have now settled
by consent of all parties.
Mr. Attorney, by my direction, hath made, upon
his information exhibited into the Star Chamber,
8 thundering motion against the transportation of
gold by the Dutch; which all the town is glad
of; and I have granted divers writs of ne exeat
regnum, according to his majesty's warrant.
■Sir Edward Coke keeps in still, and we have
miss of him ; but I supply it as I may by my
fanher diligence. God ever bless you and keep
you.
Your lordship's most faithful and
bounden friend and servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
December 11, 1618.
I forget not your doctor's matter. I shall
speak with him to-day, having received your
lordship's letter; and what is possible shall be
done. I pray pardon my scribbling in haste.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
I have acquainted your majesty with your letter,
who is very well pleased with your care of his
service, in making stay of the grant of denizens
♦ Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
upon the reason you allege, whereof his majesty
will speak farther with you at his return.
The letter, which you sent me about my Lord
of Ormonde's son, is not according to his majes-
ty's meaning; but I would have you frame an-
other to my lord deputy to this purpose: "That
his majesty having seen a letter of his to Sir
Francis Blundell, advertising, that the Earl of
Ormonde's son, and some other of his kindred,
did victual and fortify their houses; his majesty
hath thereupon commanded you to write unto him,
that if the ground of informa^'on be true, (which
he may best know,) that then he send for the said
earl's son, and the principal of his kindred to
appear before him : and if they appear, and give
him satisfaction, it is well ; but if they refuse to
appear, or give him not satisfaction, though they
appear ; that then he assemble what forces he can,
be they never so few, and go against them, that
he may crush the rebellion in the egg."
I have remembered his majesty, as I promised
your lordship, about the naming you for a com-
missioner to treat with the Hollanders : but, be-
sides thatyou have so many businesses, both.of the
Star Chamber, and others in the term time, when
this must be attended as well as in the vacation,
whereby this would be either too great a toil to
you, or a hindrance to his majesty's service ; he
thinketh it could not stand with the honour of
your place to be balanced with those that are sent
from the state, so far unequal to his majesty, and
being themselves none of the greatest of the state.
Therefore, his majesty holdeth it not fit or worthy
of you to put you into such an employment, in
which none of your predecessors, or any of the
chief counsellors, have been ever used in this
kind, but only in a treaty of marriage or conclu-
sion of a peace ; as when the Constable of Castile
was here, when the commissioners on both sides
had their authority under the great seal of either
kingdom, with direct relation to their sovereigns,
far differing from this commission, which is now
given to these men, and whereunto his majesty
is to frame the course of his. As for the part
which concerneth Scotland, the choice hath not
been made of the chancellor or Archbishop of St.
Andrew's, but of men nearer the rank of those
that come hither to treat. As yet his majesty
delayeth to give any commission at all, because
he would first be informed from the lords, both
of the points and form of their commission, which
his majesty hitherto understandeth to be, with
authority to overrule and direct their merchants
in what they shall think fit; which, if it be so,
then his majesty holdeth it fit for his part, to
appoint the whole body of the council with like
power over his merchants. As for me, I shall bis
ever ready upon any occasion to show myself
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, the 14th of December, 1618
lis
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
TO THE LADY CLIFFORD.
My very good Lady and Cousin,
I shall not be wanting in any thing, that may
express my good affection and wishes towards
your ladyship, being so near unto me, and the
daughter of a father, to whom I was in the
passages of my fortune much obliged. So, with
my loving commendations, in the midst of busi-
ness, I rest
Your affectionate kinsman
and assured friend,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
York House, this 25th of January, 1G18.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
Lest my often writing may make your lordship
conceive that this letter hath been drawn from
you by importunity, I have thought fit, for pre-
venting of any such conceit, to let your lordship
know, that Sir John Wentworth, whose business
I now recommend, is a gentleman whom I es-
teem in more than an ordinary degree. And
therefore I desire your lordship to show him
what favour you can, for my sake, in his suit,
which his majesty hath referred to your lordship :
which I will acknowledge as a courtesy unto
me, and rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, January 26, 1018.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
I being desired by a special friend of mine, to
recommend unto your lordship's favour, the case
of this petitioner, have thought fit to desire you,
for my sake, to show him all the favour you may
in this his desire, as you shall find it in reason to
deserve; which I shall take as a courtesy from
your lordship, and ever rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
I thank your lordship for your favour to Sir
•Tohn Wentworth, in the despatch of his
business.
Newmaiket, March 15, 1616.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
Most honourable Lord,
It may please your lordship, there was with
me this day, one Mr. Richard White, who hath
Hpent some little time at Florence, and is now
•Harl.MSS. vol.7006.
gone into England. He tells me, that Galileo
had answered your discourse concerning the flux
and reflux of the sea, and was sending it unto
me; but that Mr. White hindered him, because
his answer was grounded upon a false supposi-
tion, namely, that there was in the ocean a full
sea but once in twenty-four hours. But now I
will call upon Galileo again. This Mr. White
is a discreet and understanding gentleman,
though he seem a little soft, if not slow ; and
he hath in his hands all the works, as I take
it, of Galileo, some printed, and some unprinted.
He hath his discourse of the flux and reflux of
the sea, which was never printed ; as also a dis-
course of the mixture of metals. Those which
are printed, in his hand, are these: the Nuncius
sidereus; Macchie solari, and a third Delle Cose,
che stanno su Vacqua, by occasion of a disputa-
tion, that was amongst learned men in Florence,
about that which Archimedes wrote, de insidenti-
bus humido.
I have conceived that "your lordship would
not be sorry to see these discourses, of th.t
man ; and therefore I have thought it belong-
ing to my service to your lordship, to give
him a letter of this date, though it will not be
there so soon as this. The gentleman hath no
pretence or business before your lordship, but is
willing to do your lordship all humble service;
and, therefore, both for this reason, as also upon
my humble request, I beseech your lordship to
bestow a countenance of grace upon him. I am
beholden to this gentleman ; and, if your lord
ship shall vouchsafe to ask him of me, I shall
receive honour by it. And I most humbly do
your lordship's reverence.
Your lordship's most obliged servant,
ToBiE Matthew.
Brussels, from my bed, the 1 1th of April, 1619.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
His majesty hath commanded me to signify
unto your lordship, that it is his pleasure you put
off the hearing of the cause between Sir Arthur
Manwaring and Gabriel Dennis, till toward the
end of the term ; because his majesty is graciously
pleased to be at the hearing thereof himself.
And so I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. BUCKINGHA.M.
Royston, April 13, 1619.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR. AND SIR LIONEL
TANFIELD, LORD CHIEF BARON OF THE EX-
CHEQUER.*
My Lords, — His majesty having been moved
by the Duke of Savoy's ambassador, in the
* Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
119
behalf of Philip Bernard!, whom he is to send
about some special employment over the seas,
to the Duke of Savoy, that before his going,
the business mentioned in this petition may be
ended, hath commanded me to recommend the
same unto your lordship's care, that with all
expedition the cause may be heard and ended by
your lordships, according to his majesty's refer-
ence; or left to the determination of the Court
of Chancery, where it is depending, and where
the party assureth himself of a speedy end.
And so I rest your lordship's
very assured friend at command,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, the lOih of April, 1619.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I think fit to let your lordship understand what
passed yesterday in the Star Chamber, touching
Suffolk's* business.
There came to me the clerk of the court in the
inner chamber, and told me that my Lord of Suf-
folk desired to be heard by his council, at the *
sitting of the court, because it was pen * * * him.
I marvelled I heard not of it by Mr. Attorney,
who should have let me know as much, that I
might not be taken on the sudden in a cause of
that weight.
I called, presently, Mr. Attorney to me, and
asked him whether he knew of the motion, and
what it was, and how he was provided to answer
it. He signified to me, that my lord would desire
to have the commission for examinations in Ire-
land, to be returnable in Michaelmas term. I
said it might not be, and presently drew the coun-
cil, then present, to me, and made ]Mr. Attorney
repeat to them the passages past, and settled it,
that the commission should be returnable the first
day of the next term, and then, republication
granted, that it might, if accidents of wind and
weather permit, come to hearing in the term.
And, upon motion in open court, it was ordered
accordingly.
God ever preserve and prosper you. I pray
God this great easterly wind agree well with his
majesty.
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
May 6, 1619.
Endorsed,
Sent by Sir Gilbert Houghton.
* Thomas Howard, Earl of Suffolk, who had been made
lord treasurer in 1614. He was accused of several misdemean-
ors in that office, together with his lady, and Sir John Bliiglcy,
her ladyship's agent ; and an information preferred against
them all in the Star Chamber.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I am much bounden to his majesty, and like-
wise to your lordship. I see, by the late accesses
I have had with his majesty, and now by his
royal and real favour,* that he loveth me, and
acknowledgeth me for the servant that I am, or
desire to be. This, in me, must turn to a great
alacrity to honour and serve him with a mind less
troubled and divided. And, for your lordship,
my aTection may and doth daily receive addition,
but cannot, nor never could, receive alteration.
I pray present my humble thanks to his majesty;
and I am very glad his health confirmeth ; and I
hope to see him this summer at Gorhambury;
there is sweet air as any is. God preserve and
prosper you both. I ever rest
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
May 9, 1619.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.+
My honourable Lord,
His majesty was pleased, at the suit of some
who have near relation to me, to grant a license
for transportation of butter out of Wales, unto
one Lewis and Williams, who, in consideration
that the patent should be passed in their names,
entered into articles for the performance of certain
conditions agreed upon between them, which, now
that the patent is under the great seal, they utterly
refuse to perform. My desire, therefore, to your
lordship is, that you would call the said Lewis
and Williams before you, with the other parties,
or some of thena, who shall be ready at all times
to attend your lordship ; and, out of your con-
sideration of the matter, according to equity, to
take such course therein, that either the said
agreement may be performed, or that they which
refuse it may receive no benefit of the patent ;
which, upon reason thereof, was passed in their
names. And herein I desire your lordship to
make what expedition you can; because, now is
the season to make provision of the butter that,
for this year, is to be transported, whereof they
take advantage to stand out. And so I rest
Your lordship's faithful
friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Greenwich, May 14, 1619.
to the marquis of buckingham.
My very good Lord,
Though it be nothing, and all is but duty, yet,
I pray, show his majesty the paper enclosed, that
♦ Probably the grant made to him, about this time, ot
twelve hundred pounds a year.
tHarl. MS8. vn!.700f..
I'iO
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
his majesty may see how careful his poor servant
^, upon every emergent occasion, to do him what
honour he can. The motion made in court by the
king's sergeant, Crew,* that the declaration might
be made parcel of the record, and that I hear
otherwise of the great satisfaction abroad, encou-
rageth me to let his majesty know what passed.
God ever preserve and prosper you both.
Your lordship's obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Veuulam, Cane.
Endorsed,
June 29, 1619, My lord to my lord marquis, en-
closing the form of a declaration used in point of
acknowledgment in the Lady Exeter'' s\ cause.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
1 PURPOSED to have seen you to-day, and receive
your commandments before the progress ; but I
came not to London till it was late, and found you
were gone before I came. Nevertheless, I would
not fail to let your lordship understand, that, as I
find every day more and more occasions whereby
you bind me to you; so, this morning, the king
of himself did tell me some testimony, that your
lordship gave of me to his majesty even now,
when you went from him, of so great affection
and commendation, (for I must ascribe your com-
mendation to affection, being above my merit,) as
I must do contrary to that that painters do ; for
they desire to make the picture to the life, and I
must endeavour to make the life to the picture, it
hath pleased you to make so honourable a descrip-
tion 01 me. I can be but yours, and desire to
better myself, that I may be of' more worth to
such an owner.
I hope to give.the king a good account of my
time this vacation.
If your lordship pass back by London, I desire
to wait on you, and discourse a little with you :
if not, ray prayers shall go progress with you,
and my letters attend you, as occasion serveth.
God ever preserve and prosper you.
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
July 1, 1619.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
This day, according to the first appointment, I
thought to have waited upon his majesty, and to
have given him an account of my cares and pre-
it^rations for his service, which is my progress.
' Sir Randolph Crew, made Chief Justice of the King's
B-.'nch, January 26, 1624.
|- Countess of Exeter, accused of incest and other crimes
bv the LadyLake,wite of Secretary Lake, and their daughter
the Lady Roos.
And, therefore, since his coming to Windsor is
prolonged, 1 thought to keep day by letter, pray-
ing your lordship to commend my most humble
service to his majesty, and to let him know, that
since I see his majesty doth me the honour as to
rely upon my care and service, I lose no time in
that which may pertain thereunto. I see the
straits, and I see the way out ; and what lieth in
one man, whom he hath made great, and trained,
shall not be wanting. And, I hope, if God give
me life for a year or two, to give his majesty
cause to think of me seven years after I am dead.
I am glad the time approacheth, when I shall
have the happiness to kiss his majesty's hands,
and to embrace your lordship, ever resting
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
York House, Aug. 28, 1619.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
His majesty, upon a petition delivered by Mr.
Thomas Digby, wherein he complaineth of great
wrongs done unto him, hath been pleased, for his
more speedy relief and redress, if it prove as he
allegeth, to refer the consideration thereof unto
your lordship. And, because he is a gentleman,
whom I have long known and loved, I could not
but add my desire to your lordship, that if you
find he hath been wronged, you would do him so
much favour, as to give him such remedy as the
equity of his case may require. For which I will
ever rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, Oct. 8, 1619.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
I have acquainted his majesty with your letter,
who hath given order to Mr. Secretary Calvert to
signify his pleasure for the proceeding in that
business, whereof you write, without any farther
delay, as your lordship will more fully under-
stand by Mr. Secretary, who for that purpose is
to return to London against the day of hearing.
I have no answer to make to your former letter,
and will add no more to this, but that his majesty
hath a great confidence in your care of his set-
vice. And so I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, Oct. 10, 1619.
Endorsed,
Showing his majesty''s acceptation of your lord-
ship^s care, in particular in the business against
the Earl of Suffolk.
•Harl.MSS, vol. 700b.
LP]TTKRS FROM BIRCH.
p:
TO THE MAUQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
After my last letter yesterday we entered into
conference touching the Suffolk cause, myself,
and the commissioners, and tire two chief jus-
tices.* The fruit of this conference is, that we
all conceive the proceedings against my lord him- |
self to be not only just and honourable, but in
some principal parts plausible in regard of the
public ; as, namely, those three points which
touch upon the ordnance, the army of Ireland,
and the money of the cautionary towns ; and the
two chief justices are firm in it.
I did also in this cause, by the assent of my
lords, remove a part; for Mr. Attorney had laid
it upon Serjeant Davies"j" to open the information,
which is that which gives much life or coldness
to the cause. But I will have none but trained
men in this cause ; and I cannot forget that the
allotting of the opening of the information in this
cause of the Dutch (I mean the main cause) to a
mean fellow, one Ilughes, did hurt, and was
never well recovered.
By my next I will write of the king's estate :
and I ever rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
October 14, 1619
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
This morning the dukef came to me, and told
me the king's cause was yesterday left fair; and
if ever there were a time of my Lord of Suffolk's
submission, it was now ; and that if my Lord of
Suffolk should come into the Court and openly
acknowledge his delinquency, he thought it was
a thing considerable. My answer was, I would
not nueddle in it; and, if I did, it must be to dis-
suade any such course ; for that all would be but
a play upon the stage, if justice went not on in
the right course. This I thought it my dutv to
let the king know by your lordship.
I cannot express the care I have had of this
cause in a number of circumstances and discre-
tions, which, though they may seem but small
matters, yet they do the business, and guide it
right.
God ever keep your lordship.
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
October 21, 1619.
* Sir Henry Montagu of' the King's Bench, and Sir Henry
Hohart of the Common Pleas.
t Sir John Davies, author of J^osce teipsum, knighted in
February, 1607-8, and made serjeant at law in 1612. He had
been Attorney-General of Ireland.
% Lodowick, Duke of Lenox : he was created Duke of Rich-
mond, May |7, 1623, and died February 11, 1623-4.
V0L.IIJ--I6
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I am doubly bounden to the king for his ma-
jesty's trust and acceptation; whereof the one I
will never deceive; the other, though I cannot
deserve, yet I will do my best, and perhaps as
much as another man.
This day the evidence went well ; for the soli-
citor* did his part substantially ; and, a little to.
warm the business, when the misemployment of
treasure, which had relation to the army of Ire-
land, I spake a word, that he that did draw or
milk treasure from Ireland was handled, did not
emulgere, milk money, but blood. But this is
but one of the little things that I wrote of before.
The king, under pardon, must come hither
with two resolutions ; the one, to remit all im-
portunity touching this cause to the lords in court
of justice ; the other, to pursue the designs first
taken at Windsor, and then at Hampton Court,
for his commission of treasury : wherein I do my
part, and it is reason-ably well ; but better would
it be if instruments were not impediments. I
ever rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
October 27, Wednesday.
Friday will not end the business; for to-
morrow will but go through with the king's
evidence.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.!
My honourable Lord,
This bearer, a Frenchman, belongint. to the
ambassador, having put an Englishman la suit
for some matters between them, is much hindered
and molested, by often removing of the cause
from one court to another. Your lordship knows,
that the French are not acquainted with our man-
ner of proceedings in the law, and must therefore
be ignorant of the remedy in such a case. His
course was to his majesty; but I thought it more
proper that your lordship would be pleased to
hear and understand this case from hitnself, and
then to advise and take order for his relief, aa
youf lordship in your wisdom shall think fit.
So, commending him to your honourable favour,
I rest
Your lord?hlp'« faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, 27th of October 1619.
Your lordship shall do well to be infornp.ed ot
every particular, because his majesty will ha'»e
account of it at his coming.
* Sir Thomas Coventry, afterwards lord keeper of the
great seal,
t Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
L
Vi'i
LETTERS FROxM BIRCH.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR. i
My honourable Lord, I
I have acquainted his majesty with your letter, I
who commanded me to give your lordship thanks j
for your speed in advertising those things that pass, ]
and for the great care he seeth you ever have of
his service.
I send your lordship back the bill of sheriffs
for Sussex, wherein his majesty hath pricked the
first, as your lordship wished.
His majesty would not have you omit this
opportunity of so gross an oversight in the
judges, to admonish them of their negligence in
suffering such a thing to come to his majesty,
which needed his amending afterwards; and,
withal, to let them know, that his majesty ob-
serveth that every year they grow more and more
careless of presenting fit men unto him for that
place ; and that you advise them to be more wary
hereafter, that they may give his majesty better
satisfaction. And so I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, November 14, 1619.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My VERY GOOD Lord,
This day afternoon, upon our meeting in
touncil, we have planed those rubs and knots,
which were mentioned in my last, whereof I
thought good presently to advertise his majesty.
The days hold without all question, and all delays
diverted and quieted.
Sir Edward Coke vas at Friday's hearing, but
in his nightcap; and complained to me he was
ambulent, and not current. I would be sorry he
should fail us in this cause. Therefore, I desire
his majesty to signify to him, by your lordship,
(taking knowledge of some light indisposition
of his,) how much he should think his service
disadvantaged in this cause, if he should be at
any day away; for then he cannot sentence.
By my next, I will give his majesty some
account of the tobacco and the currants. I
ever rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
November 20, at evening, 1019.
TO THE MARQUiS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
1 know well his majesty taketh to heart this
business of the Dutch.* as he hath great reason,
in reppect both of honour and profit. And be-
• Merchants, accused in the Star Chamber for exporting
gold and silver coin.
cause my first letter was written in the epitasis,
or trouble of the business; and my second in the
beginning of the catastrophe, or cahning thereof,
(wherein, nevertheless, I was fain to bear up
strongly into the weather, before the calm fol-
lowed,) and since every day hath been better and
better, I thought good to signify so much, that
his majesty may be less in suspense.
The great labour was to get entrance into
the business; but now the portcullis is drawn
up. And though, I must say, there were some
blots in the tables, yet, by well playing, the game
is good.
Roland is passing well justified; for both his
credit is by very constant and weighty testimony
proved, and those vast quantities, which were
thought incredible, or at least improbable, are
now made manifest truth.
Yet I find a little of the old leaven towards the
first defendants, carried in this style and charac-
ter: "I would this that appears now, had ap-
peared at first. But this cometh of haste and
precipitation;" and the like. But yet, I hope,
the corruption and practice upon the ore tenus,
and the rectifying of Rowland's credit, will
satisfy my lords upon the former proofs. For I
would be very sorry that these new defendants
(which, except one or two, are the smaller flies)
should be in the net, and the old defendants,
which are the greater flies, should get through.
God preserve you.
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
November 26, 1619.
Endorsed,
Touchinir ike Dutch business.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
I do, from time to time, acquaint his majesty
with your letters, wherein he ever perceiveth
your vigilant care in any thing that concerneth
his service ; and hath commanded me to give you
thanks in his name, who is sure your endeavours
will never be wanting, when any thing is to be
done for the advancement of his affairs.
According to your lordship's advice, his ma-
jesty hath written to the commissioners of the
treasury, both touching the currants and the tobac-
co,! the plantation whereof his majesty is fully
resolved to restrain ; and hath given them order
* Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
■f Lord B:icon, in his letter of November 22, 1019, mentions
that there was offered two thousiind pounds increase yearly,
for the tobacco, to begin at Michaelmas, as it now is, and
three thousand pounds increase, if the plantations here withio
land be restrained.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
123
forthwith to set out a proclamation to that effect ;
not intending in that point to stand upon any
doubt of law, nor to expect the judges' interpre-
tation ; nor to allow any freehold in that case ;
but holding this the safest rule, Salus reipublicx
suprema lex esto. And so I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, Nov. 27, 1619.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
I have presented both the submissions to his
majesty. His answer is, he cannot alter that
which was allowed of by the lords of the last Star
Chamber day, except first they be acquainted
with it, and the consent of the Lady Exeter be
likewise had, because the decree doth necessarily
require it. So I rest ,
Your lordship's humble servant,
G. Buckingham.
Endorsed,
Touching the subinissioiis of Sir Thomas Lake
and his lady.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
I acquainted this day, the bearer with his ma-
jesty's pleasure, touching Lake'sf submission ;
which, whether it should be done in person or in
writing, his majesty signified his will thus: that
it should be spared in open court, if my Lady of
Exeter should consent, and the board think fit.
The boat-d liked it well, and appointed my Lord
Digby, and Secretary Calvert, to speak with my
lady, who returned her answer in substance, that
she would, in this and all thinofs, be commanded
by his majesty: but if his majesty left it to her
liberty and election, she humbly prayed to be
excused. And though it was told her, that this
answer would be cause that it could not be per-
formed this term; yet she seemed willing rather
it should be delayed, than dispensed with.
This day also Traske,:): in open court, made a
•Harl.MSS. vol. 7006.
+ Sir Thomas Lake's.
t John Traske, a minister, who was prosecuted in the Star
chamber for maintaining, as we find mentioned in the Reports
of the Lord Chief Justice Hobart, p. 236, that the Jewish
Sabbath ought to be observed and not ours ; and that we
ought to abstain from all manner of swine's flesh, and those
meats which the Jews were forbidden in Leviticus, accord-
ing to Bishop Andrews, in his speech in the Star Chamber on
that occasion, printed among his lordship's works. Mr.
Traske being examined in that court, confessed, that he had
divulged those opinions, and had laboured to bring as many
to them as he could; and had also written a letter to the
king, wherein he seemed to tax his majesty with hypocrisy,
siiid expressly inveighed against the bishous high commis-
retractation of his wicked opinions in writing.
The form was as good as may be. I declared to
him, that this court was the judgmenUseat; the
mercy-seat was his majesty : but the court would
commend him to his majesty : and I humbly pray
his majesty to signify his pleasure speedily, be-
cause of the misery of the man ; and it is a rare
thing for a sectary, that hath once suffered smart
and shame, to turn so unfeignedly, as he seemed
to do.
God ever bless and keep you.
Your most obliged friend and faithful servant,
^^R. Verulam, Cane.
December 1, 1619.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHA?^
My very GOOD Lord
On Friday I left Lonaon, to hide myself at Kew ;
for two months and a half together to be strong-
bent is too much for my bow. And yet, that the
king m-ay perceive, that in my times of leisure I
am not idle, I took down with me Sir Giles Mom-
pesson,* and with him I have quietly conferred
of that proposition, which was given me in
charge by his majesty, and after seconded by
your lordship. Wherein I find some things I like
very well, and some other, that I would set by.
And one thing is much to my liking, that the
proposition for bringing in his majesty's revenue
with small charge is no invention, but was on
foot heretofore in King Philip's and Queen jNIary's
time, and had a grave and mighty opinion for it.
The rest I leave to his relation, and mine own
attendance.
I hope his majesty will look to it, that the fines
now to come in may do him most good. Both
causes produce fines of one hundred and fourscore
thousand pounds, whereof one hundred thousand
may clear the anticipations ; and then the assign-
ations may pass under the great seal, to be enroU-
able ; so as we shall need to think of nothing but
the arrears in a manner, of which I wish the
twenty thousand pounds to the strangers (with
the interest) be presently satisfied. The remain
sioners, as bloody and cruel in their proceeding? against him,
and a papal clergy. He was sentenced to fine and imprison-
ment, not for holding those opinions, (for those were examiii
able in the Ecclesiastical Court, and not there,) but for
making of conventicles and commotions, and for scandalizing
the king, the bishops, and clergy. Dr. f'uller, in _iis Chuic't
History of Britain, book x. p. 77, { 64, mentions his .laving
heard Mr. Traske preach, and remarks, that his roi;.e had
more streng-th than any thing else he delivered; and that alter
his recantation he relapsed, not into the same, but other opi-
nions, rather humorous than hurtful, and died obscurely a-
Lamlieth, in the reign of King Charles I.
* Who, in the parliament, which began, January 30, 162(Vl
was sentenced to be degraded, and rendered incapable of
bearing any office, for practising several abuses, setting up
new inns and alehouses, and exacting great sums of money
of the people, by pretence of letters patents granted him for
that purpose. But he fled into foreign parts, finding himself
abandoned by the Marquis of Buckingham, on whom I'j biiii
depended for protection.
124
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
may sore fo- the king's present and urgent occa-
sions. And if the king intend any gifts, let tliem
staj' for the second course, (for all is not yet done,)
but nothing out of these, except the king should
give me the twenty thousand pounds I owe Peter
Vanbore out of his fine, which is the chief debt
I owe. But this I speak merrily. I ever rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
Kew, De.j.tiber 12, 1619.
After I had wiitten this letter, I received from
your lordship, by my servant, his majesty's ac-
ceptation of my poor services ; for which I pray
your lordship to present tc his majesty my most
humble thanks I have now other things in my
mind for ^is majesty's service, that no time be lost.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
His majesty hath been pleased, out of his gra-
cious care of Sir Robert Killigrew, to refer a suit
of his, for certain concealed lands, to your lord-
ship and the rest of the commissioners for the
treasury ; the like whereof hath been heretofore
granted to many others. My desire to your lord-
ship is, that, he being a gentleman whom I love
and wish very well unto, your lordship would
show him, for my sake, all the favour you can, in
furthering his suit. Wherein your lordship shall
do me a dourtesy, for which I will ever rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, December 15, 1619.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
I have acquainted his majesty with your letter,
who for that business, whereof Mr. Chancellor
of the Exchequer brought the message to his
majesty to Theobalds, returned the answer by
him. As for that, whereof Sir Giles Mompesson
spake to your lordship, his majesty liketh very
well, and so lo all others with whom his majesty
hath spoken of it, and, therefore, he recommend-
eth it to your care, not doubting but your lord-
ship will give all your furtherance to it, being
your own work, and so much concerning his
majesty's honour and profit ; and will speak
farther with your lordship of it at his return to
London.
For those other businesses of the Star Chamber,
which his majesty hath recommended to your
lordship, he hopeth you will keep the clock still
going, his profit being so much interested there-
in, especially seeing Mr. Chancellor of the Ex-
♦ Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
cheq\ier* hath promised his majesty that he wil?
be no more sick, whereby you shall have this
comfort, that the burden will not lie upon your
lordship alone.
The little leisure I had at Theobalds made me
bring your man down hither for this answer,
which I hope your lordship will excuse; and
ever hold me for
Your lordship's faithful friend
and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, 19th of Jan.
Endorsed, 1019.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
In the midst of business, as in the midst of a
way, one should not stay long, especially when I
crave no direction, but only advertise.
This day, we met about the commission, the
commonwealth's commission, for the poor and
vagabonds, &c. We have put it into an exceed-
ing good way, and have appointed meetings once
in fourteen days, because it shall not be aslack.
I was glad to hear from the two chief justices,
that whatsoever appears in the country to come
from primum mobile, (that is, the king's care,)
works better than if it came from the law. There-
fore we have ordered that this commission shall
be published in the several circuits in the charges
of the judges. For the rest hereafter.
For the proposition of Sir Giles Mompesson we
have met once. Exchequer-men will be exche-
quer-men still; but we shall do good.
For the account, or rather imparting, of the
commissioners of treasury to the council, I think
it will but end in a compliment. But the real
care (and I hope good purpose) I will not give
over, the better, because I am not alone.
For the Star Chamber business, I shall, as you
write, keep the clock on going, which is hard to
do, when sometimes the wheels are too many,
and sometimes too few. But we shall do well,
especially if those whom the king hath hitherto
made bondmen, (I mean, which have given bonds
for their fines,) he do not hereafter make freemen.
For Suffolk's business, it is a little strange,
that the attorney made it a question to the com-
missioners of treasury, whether Suffolk should
not be admitted to the lease of the extent of his
own land, which is the way to encourage him not
to pay his fine. But when it was told him, that
the contrary course was held with the Earl of
Northumberland, and that thereby he was brought
to agree for his fine ; then he turned, as his man-
ner is.
* Sir Fiilke Greville, who surrendered that office in Sep-
tember, 1621, being succeed 'd in it by Sir Richard Weston.
He had been created Lord Brooliu of Beauchamp's Court,
Jan. 9, I62U-I.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
123
For the errors, we have yet so much use of the
service of Sir Henry Britten in bringing in the
fines, (indeed more than of the attorney,) as we
cannot, without prejudice to his majesty's ser-
vice, enter yet into them; and, besides, Sir Ed-
ward Coke comes not abroad.
Mr. Kirkham hath communicated with me, as
matter of profit to his majesty, upon the coals
referred by liis majesty to us of the treasury ;
wherein I hope we shall do good, the rather,
because I am not alone.
The proclamation for light gold Mr. Secretary
Calvert, I know, hath sent to his majesty; and
therefore of that I say no more.
For the raising of silver by ordinance, and not
by proclamation, and that for the time to come,
we have given order to finish it. I hear a whis-
pering, that thereupon the commissioners of the
navy, the officers of the household, the wardrobe,
may take occasion to break the book and the
undertakings, because the prices may rise, which
I thought good to signify to his majesty. And,
to speak plainly, I fear more the pretence than
the natural effect.
God evermore preserve your lordship. I rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
January 20, 1619.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLORS
My honourable Lord,
I have acquainted his majesty with your letter,
who is very well pleased therewith, finding in
you a continual care of his service. In that
point of the Star Chamber business, his majesty
saith there is a mistaking: for he meant not the
Dutchmen's business, but that motion which
your lordship made unto him, of sitting in the
Star Chamber about the commissions, which you
had not leisure to read till he came down to
Royston, and hath reason to give you thanks for
it, desiring you to prepare it, and study the point,
(of which he will speak more with you at his
return to London,) being a matter worthy your
thinking on, and his majesty's practice.
For the last point of your letter, his majesty
aaith it cannot but proceed of malice, that there
should be any such plot, which he will not
endure, but he will account those that whisper of
it in that sort, enemies of his service ; and will
]iut them out of their places that practise it. And
so I rest
Your lordship's faithful
friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, Jan. 22, 1619.
♦ Harl. MSS. vol. 7006.
TO MR. SECRETARY CALVERT.
Mr. Secretary,
I have received your letter of the 3d of this
present, signifying his majesty's pleasure toucn-
ing Peacock's* examinations, of which I will
have special care.
My Lord Coke is come to town, and hath sent
me word, he will be with me on Monday, though
he be somewhat lame. Howsoever, the service
shall be done.
I was made acquainted, by your letter to Secre-
tary Naunton, with his majesty's dislike of the
sending to him of the jolly letter from Zealand.
I will now speak for myself, that when it was
received, I turned to the master of the ward8,f
and said, " Well, I think you and I shall ever
advise the king to do more for a Burlamachi
when he seeketh to his majesty by supplication
and supplying the king at the first word, than for
all the rest upon any bravados from the Burgo-
masters of Holland and Zealand :" who answered
very honestly, that it was in the king's power to
make them alter their style when he would. But
when another of us said, we could not but in our
own discharge send the king the letter, scilicet
negandum non fait ,• though indeed my way is
otherwise.
I have at last recovered from these companions,
Harrison and Dale, a copy of my Lord of Ban-
gor's:t: book, the great one, and will presently set
in hand the examinations. God keep you.
Y'our assured friend,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
February 5, 1619.
TO THE KING.
May it please your Majesty,
Sir Edward Coke is now afoot, and, according
to your command, signified by Mr. Secretary
Calvert, we proceed in Peacock's examinations.
For, although there have been very good diligence
used, yet certainly we are not at the bottom; and
he that would not use the utmost of his line to
sound such a business as this, should not have
due regard neither to your majesty's honour noi
safety.
♦ He was a minister of the University of Cambridge. lie
was committed to tlie Tower f(ir pretending that he had, by
sorcery, infatuated the king's judgment, in the cause of Sir
Thomas Lake.— Camd. Jlnnal. He^is Jacobi I., p. 54.
t Sir Lionel Cranfield.
t Dr. Lewis Bayly, born at Caermarthen in Wales, and
educated in Exeter College, Oxford. He had been mini.<itKi
of Evesham in Worcestershire, and chaplain to Princi
Henry,and rectorof St. Matthew's, Friday street, iti London
lie was promoted to the bishopric of Bangor in 1616. On
the 15lh of July, 1621, he was committed to the Fleet, but on
what account is not related by Camden, Jlnvales RcfrU Jac.-)bt
/., p. 72, who mentions the circumstance of the bishop's i'n
prisonnient, but that he was soon after set at liberty. Ho
was the author of the well known book, The Practice »/
Piety.
l2
126
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
A man would tliink he were in Luke Hutton's
case again ; for, as my Lady Roos personated
Luke Hutton, so it seemeth, Peacock personateth
Atkins. But I make no judgment yet, but will
go on with all diligence; and, if it may not be
done otherwise, it is fit Peacock be put to torture.
He deserveth it as well as Peacham did.
I beseech your majesty not to think I am more
bitter because my name is in it; for, besides that
I always make my particular a cipher, when
there is question of your majesty's honour and
service, I think myself honoured for being brought
into so good company. And as, without flattery,
I think your majesty the best of kings, and my
noble Lord of Buckingham the best of persons
favoured; so I hope, without presumption, for my
honest and true intentions to state and justice,
and my love to my master, I am not the worst of
chancellors. God ever preserve your majesty.
Your majesty's most obliged
and most obedient servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
10th of February, 1619.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
Most honoured Lord,
I presume now, after term, (if there be any
such thing as an afterterm with your lordship,) to
offer this enclosed paper* to your sight, concern-
ing the Duke of Lerma; which, if your lordship
have not already read, will not, I think, be alto-
gether unpleasing, because it is full of particular
circumstances. I know not how commonly it
passeth up and down more or less. My friend,
Mr. Gage, sent it me lately out of Spain. But,
howsoever, I build upon a sure ground; for,
though it should be vulgar, yet, for iily desire to
serve your lordship, I cannot demerit so much, as
not to deserve a pardon at your lordship's most
noble hand.
Before the departure of the Duke of Lerma
from that court, there was written upon the gate
for a pasquinade, that the house was governed
por el Padre, y el Hijo, y un Santo ; as, in Paris,
about the same time, was written upon the Louvre
gate, CPest icy P hostel des troys Roys; for Luynes's
brother is almost as great as himself. But, the
While there is good store of kings now in Christ-
endom, though there be one fewer than there was.
In Spain, there are very extraordinary prepara-
tions for a great armada. Here is lately in this
court, a current speech, as that the enterprise
Cwhatsoever it should have been) is laid wholly
aside : but that were strange. Yet this is certain,
that the forces of men, to the number of almost
two thousand, which were to have gone into
♦ 1 nave, out of a ragged hand in Spanish, translated it,
And accompanied it with some marginal notes for your lord-
ship'H greater ease. JVofe of Mr. Matthew.
Spain from hence, are discharged, together with
some munition, which was also upon the point of
being sent. Another thing is also certain, thai
both in the court of Spain and this, there is at
this time a strange straitness of money; which 1
do not conceive, for my part, to proceed so much
from want, as design to employ it. The rendez-
vous, where the forces were to meet, was at
Malaga, within the straits ; which makes the en-
terprise upon Algiers most likely to be intended.
For I take that to be a wild conceit, which thinks
of going by the Adriatic per far in un Viaggio
duoi servilii ; as the giving a blow to Venice, and
the landing of forces in aid of the King of Bohe-
mia about Trieste.
Perhaps the King of Spain would be glad to let
the world see, that now he is hors de paye; and,
by showing himself in some action, to entitle the
Duke of Lerma to all his former sloth ; or perhaps
he now makes a great preparation, upon the pre-
tence of some enterprise, that he will let fall, that
so he may with the less noise assemble great
forces some other year for some other attempt not
spoken of now.
My Lord Compton* is in this court, and goes
shortly towards Italy. His fashion is sweet, and
his disposition noble, and his conversation fair
and honest.
Diego, my Lord Roos's man, is come hither.
I pray God it be to do me any good towards the
recovery of the debt his lord owes me.
Most honoured lord, I am here at good leisure
to look back upon your lordship's great and noble
goodness towards me, which may go for a great
example in this age ; and so it doth. That which
I am sure of is, that my poor heart, such as it is,
doth not only beat, but even boil in the desires it
hath to do your lordship all humble service.
I crave leave, though it be against good man-
ners, that I may ever present my humblest service
to my most honoured lady, my Lady Verulam,
and Lady Constable, with my best respects to my
dear friend. Sir John Constable ; who, if your
lordship want the leisure, would perhaps cast an
eye upon the enclosed paper.
I do, with more confidence, presume to address
this other letter to Mr. Meautys, because the con-
tents thereof concern your lordship's service.
I beseech sweet Jesus to make and keep your
lordship entirely happy. So I humbly do you
reverence, remaining ever
Your lordship's most obliged servant,
ToBiE Matthew.
P. S. I should be glad to receive some of youi
lordship's philosophical labours, if your lordship
* Spencer, Lord Compton, only son of William, Earl of
Northampton. This nobleman, who succeeded his father in
his title and his estate, in June, 1630, was killed at Hampton
Heath, near Stafford, on Sunday, March 19, lfrl2-3, fighting
for King Charles 1.
LKTTERS FROM BIRCH.
1-»T
could so think fit. I do now receive a letter from ber; I received it this evening at six r r the clock,
the Conde de Gondoiniir, who, thinking that it by the hands of the master of the rolls,* sealei
should find me in England, saith thus : Sesn las 1 as it is with my Lord of Suffolk's seal, and the
mnnes viil vezes a mi sennor, el nennor Gran Chan-
cilor, con my coracnn ; como estoy en su buena
gracia. The empress is dead long since, and the
emperor is so sickly, or rather so sick, that they
forbear to hury her with solemnity, as conceiving,
that he will save charge by dying shortly. They
say here, that the business of Bohemia is grow-
ing towards an end by composition,
brussels, this 14th of February, 1619.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
For the services committed to Sir Lionel Cran-
field, after his majesty hath spoken with him, I
shall attend and follow his majesty's pleasure and
directions, and yield my best care, advice, and
endeavour for performance.
In the pretermitted duty I have some profit, and
more was to have had, if Queen Anne had lived ;
wherefore, I shall become an humble suitor to his
majesty, that I may become no loser, specially
seeing the business had been many a time and oft
quite overthrown, if it had not been upheld only,
or chiefly by myself; so that whatsoever service
hath been since done, is upon my foundation.
Mr. Attorney* groweth pretty pert with me of
late; and I see well who they are that maintain
him. But be they flies, or be they wasps, I nei-
ther care for buzzes nor stings, most especially in
any thing that concerneth my duty to his majesty,
or my love to your lordship.
I forgot not in my public charge, the last Star
Chamber day, to publish his majesty's honour for
his late commission for the relief of the poor, and
suppressing vagabonds ; as also his gracious
intention touching informers, which I perceive
was received with much applause. That of pro-
jectors I spake not of, because it is not yet ripe,
neither doth it concern the execution of any law,
for which my speech was proper. God ever pre-
serve and prosper you.
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
February 17, 1619.
master's of the rolls ; but neither I, -nor the master
of the rolls know what is in it; but it cometh
first to his majesty's sight. Only I did direct,
that because the authentic copy (unto which my
lord is sworn, according to the course of the
court) is not so fit for his majesty's reading, my
Lord of Suffolk should send withal a paper copy,
which his majesty might read with less trouble.
My Lady Suffolk is so ill of the small-pox, as
she is not yet fit to make any answer.
Bingley's| answer is come in, a long one; and,
as I perceive, with some things impertinent, yea,
and unfit. Of that I confer with Mr. Solicitor:^^
to-morrow ; and then I will farther advertise your
lordship. God ever preserve and prosper you.
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
York House, this 2.'?(1 of Febr. 1619,
at 9 ofthe clock, 1619-20.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My VERY GOOD Lord,
I send by post this sealed packet, containing
ray Lord of Suffolk's answer in the Star Cham-
• Sir Henry Yelverton
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
Most honourable Lord,
I do even now receive this letter from the Conde
de Gondomar, with direction I should send it
(since I am not there to deliver it) to Mr. ^Vyche,
that so he may present it to your lordship's hand
at such time, as it may be of most use to him.
He commands nie, besides, that for his sake I
should become an humble solicitor to your lordship
for this friend of his; which I presume to do the
more willingly, because this party is a great friend
of mine, and so are also many of his friends my
friends. Besides, he wills me to represent his
great thanks to your lordship, tor the just favours
you have been pleased to vouchsafe to Mr. VVyche
already, the rather in contemplation of the Conde,
as he hath been informed. And if in the company,
or rather in the attendance of so great an interces-
sor, it be not an unpardonable kind of ill manners
to intrude myself, I presume to cast myself at
your lordship's feet, with protestation that I shall
be very particularly bound to your lordship's
goodness for any favour, with justice, that ho
shall obtain.
I beseech Jesus keep your lordship ever entire-
ly happy; and so, doing all humble reverence, (
take leave.
Your lordship's most humble
and most obliged servant,
Ti)B!E !NL\TTHEt\
Brussels, this 26th of Febiuary, 1619.
* Sir Julius Cspsar
+ Sir John Bnijrlev'«
X Sir Thomas Covenliy.
19S
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
hlk^ HONOURABLE LoRD,
Understanding that there hath been a lontr and
tedious suit depending in the Chancery between
Robert D'Oyley and his wife, plaintiffs, and
Leonard Lovace, defendant; which cause hath
been heretofore ended by award, but is now
revived again, and was, in Michaelmas term last,
fully heard before your lordship; at which hear-
ing your lordship did not give your opinion there-
of, but were pleased to defer it until breviats were
delivered on both sides ; which, as I am informed,
hath been done accordingly: now my desire unto
your lordship is, that you will be pleased to take
some time, as speedily as your lordship may, to
give your opinion thereof, and so make a final
end, as your lordship shall find the same inequity
to deserve : for which I will ever rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Windsor, 18th of May, 1620.
to the marquis of buckingham.
My very good Lord,
I went to Kew for pleasure, but I met with pain.
But neither pleasure nor pain can withdraw my
mind from thinking of his majesty's service.
And because his majesty shall see how I was oc-
cupied at Kew, I send him these papers of rules
for the Star Chamber, wherein his majesty shall
erect one of the noblest and durablest pillars for
the justice of this kingdom in perpetuity, that
can be, after, by his own wisdom and the advice
of his lords, he shall have revised them and
established them. The manner and circumstances.
I refer to my attending his majesty. The rules
are not all set down; but I will do the rest within
two or three days. I ever remain
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
June 9, 1620.
lordship to give credit to what he shall deliver
your lordship therein, with your lawful assistance
of my desires; wherein 1 doubt not but you shall
do a very good office. And I shall rest ready to
requite your courtesy; and, with my best wishes,
continue
Your very loving friend,
G. Buckingham.
Egham, July 6, 1620.
Endorsed,
3Iy lord marquis in behalf of his servant, Mr. PortcVy
and Mr. Darlington.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My honourable Lord,
His majesty having made a reference of business
to your lordsliip, concerning Sir Robert Douglas
and Mr. David Ramsey, two of his highness's
servants, whom he loveth, and whom I wish very
well unto ; I have thought fit to desire you to
show them all the favour your lordship may
therein : which 1 will acknowledge, and ever
rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
The reference comes in the name of my brothei
Christopher, because they thought it would suc-
ceed the better : but the prince wisheth well to it,
Farnham, the last of August, 1620.
Endorsed,
Touching the business of wills.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.!
My very good Lord,
Such is my haste at this time, that I cannot
write so largely to yourself as I would, in the
ousiness of the steel, in which once already I
sent to your lordship, and in which 1 only desire
the good of the commonwealth, and the service
of iTiy master; I, therefore, have sent this bearer,
ray servant, unto you, and committed the relation
of the business to him. And I do entreat your
• Hcrl. MSS. vol. 7006.
\ Uarl. MSS. vol. 7000,
TO THE KlNG.t
Amongst the counsels which, since the time 1
had the honour to be first of your learned, and
after of ynur privy council, I have given your
majesty faithfully according to my small ability;
I do take comfort in none more, than that I was
the first that advised you to come in person into
the Star Chamber; knowing very well, that those
virtues of your majesty which I saw near hand,
would out of that throne, both, as out of a sphere,
illustrate your own honour, and, as oiit of a foun-
tain, water and refresh your whole land. And
because your majesty, in that you have already
done, hath so well effected that which I foresaw
and desired, even beyond my expectation ; it is
no marvel if I resort still to the branches of that
counsel that hath borne so good fruit.
* Harl. MSS. vol. TOGO.
+ This letter appea s to have been written after the pro-
ceedings against Sir Thomas Lake, and his lady and daughter,
in the Star Chamber, in January, 1619-20, and before the
resolution of calling the Parliament, which met January 30,
1630-1.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
129
The Star Chamber, in the institutions thereof,
hath two uses ; the one as a supreme court of
jiuii mature, the other as an open council. In the
lirst kind, your majesty hath sat there now twice :
the first time, in a cause of force, concerning
the duels; the second time, in a cause of fraud,
concerning the forgeries and conspiracies against
the Lady of Exeter; which two natures of
crimes, force and fraud, are the proper objects of
that court.
In the second kind, your majesty came the
first time of all, when you did set in frame and
fabric the several jurisdictions of your courts.
There wants a fourth part of the square to make
all complete, which is, if your majesty will be
pleased to publish certain commonwealth com-
missions; which, as your majesty bath well
begun to do in some things, and to speak of in
some others ; so, if your majesty will be pleased
to make a solemn declaration of them in that
place, this will follow :
First, that your majesty shall do yourself an
infinite honour, and win the hearts of your
people to acknowledge you, as well the most
})olitic king, as the most just.
Secondly, it will oblige your commissioners to
a more strict account, when they shall be engaged
by such a public charge and commandment.
And, thirdly, it will invite and direct any man
that finds himself to know any thing concerning
those commissions, to bring in their informations.
So as I am persuaded it will eternize your name
and merit, and that King James's commissions
will be spoken of, and put in ure, as long as
Britain lasts; at the least, in the reign of all
good kings.
For the particulars, besides the two commis-
sions of the navy, and the buildings about
London, (wherein your majesty may consider,
whether you will have any thing altered or sup-
plied,) I wish these following to be added.
Commission for advancing the clothing of
England, as well the old drapery as the new, and
all the incidents thereunto.
Commission for staying treasure within the
realm, and the reiglement of moneys.
Commission for the provision of the realm
with corn and grain, and the government of the
exportation and importation thereof; and direct-
ing of public granaries, if cause be.
Commission for introducing and nourishing
manufactures within the realm, for setting people
awork, and the considering of all grants and
privileges of that nature.
Commission to prevent the depopulation of
towns and houses of husbandry, and for nuisances
and highways.
Commission for the recovery of drowned
lands.
(Commission for the suppression of the griev-
ances of informers.
V «-,. III.— 17
Commission for the better proceedings in the
plantations of Ireland.
Commission for the provision of the realm
with all kinds of warlike defence, ordnance,
powder, munition, and armour.
Of these you may take and leave, as it shall
please you : and I wish the articles concerning
every one of them (first allowed by your coun-
cil) to be read openly, and the commissioners'
names.
For the good that comes of particular and selec.
committees and commissions, I need not common
place, for your mvrjesty hath found the good of
them; but nothing to that that will be, when
such things are put)lished ; because it will vindi-
cate thorn from neglect, and make many good
spirits, that we little think of, co-operate in them.
I know very well that the world, that commonly
is apt to think, that the care of the common-
wealth is but a pretext in matters of state, will
perhaps conceive, that this is but a preparative to
a Parliament. But let not that hinder your ma-
jesty's magnanimity, ??i npere operato, that is so
good; and, besides, that opinion, for many re-
spects, will do no hurt to your affairs.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My very good Lord,
By his majesty's directions. Sir Francis Bii n*
dell will deliver you a petition of Sir Fran^^s
Annesly, his majesty's secretary of Ireland, with
his majesty's pleasure thereupon. To the gentle-
man I wish very well, and do therefore recom-
mend him and his cause to your lordship's good
favour ; and your respect of him, in his absence,
I will thankfully acknowledge. So I take my
leave.
Your lordship's very loving friend,
G. Buckingham.
Theobalds, the Sd of October, 1620.
TO THE KING.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
It being a thing to speak or write, especially
to a king, in public, another in private, although
I have dedicated a work,f or rather a portion of
a work, which, at last, I have overcome to your
majesty by a puoiic epistle, where I speak to yoii
in the hearing of others; yet I thought fit ah'>
humbly to seek access for the same, not so mui-h
to your person as to your judgment, by these
private lines.
The work, in what colours soever it may be set
forth, is no more but a new logic, teaching to in-
vent and judge by induction, as finding syllogisra
• Harl. MSS. voL 7000.
t Novum Organum
130
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
mcompetent for sciences of nature ; and thereby
to make philosophy and sciences both more true
and more active.
This tending to enlarge the bounds of reason,
and to endow man's estate with new value, was
no improper oblation to your majesty, who of men
is the greatest master of reason and author of
b(!neficence.
There be two of your council, and one other
uishop* of this land, that know I have been about
some such work near thirty years ; f so as I
made no haste. And the reason why 1 have pub-
lished it now, specially being unperfect, is, to
speak plainly, because I number my days, and
would have it saved. There is another reason of
my so doing, which is to try whether I can get
help in one intended part of this work, namely,
the compiling of a natural and experimental
nistory, which must be the main foundation of a
true and active philosophy.
This work is but a new body of clay, whereunto
your majesty, by your countenance and p/otection,
may breathe life. And to tell your majesty truly
what I think, I account your favour may be to this
work as much as a hundred years' time : for I am
persuaded the work will gain upon men's minds
in ages, but your gracing it may make it take
hold more swiftly ; which I would be very glad
of, it being a work meant, not for praise or glory,
but for practice and the good of men. One thing,
I confess, I am ambitious of, with hope, which is,
that after these beginnings, and the wheel once
set on going, men shall seek more truth out of
Christian pens than hitherto they have done out
of heathen, I say with hope, because I hear my
former book of the Advancement of Learning, is
well tasted in the universities here, and the Eng-
lish colleges abroad : and this is the same argu-
ment sunk deeper.
And so I ever humbly rest in prayers, and all
other duties.
Your majesty's most bounden
and devoted servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
Vork House, this 12th of October, 1G20.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.^
My honourable Lord,
Ther-e is a business in your lordship's hands,
with which Sir Robert Lloyd did acquaint your
* Dr. Lancelot Andrews, Bishop of Winchester.
t Mr. Chamberlain, in a letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, am-
bassador at Holland, dated at London, October 28th, 1620,
mentions, that Mr. Henry Cuffe, who had been secretary to
Robert, Earl of Essex, and executed for being concerned in
his treasons, having long since perused this work, gave this
censure, that "a fool could not have written such a work,
and a wise man would not." And, in another letf-er, dated
February 3, 1620-1, Mr. Chamberlain takes notice, that the
King could not forbear, sometimes, in reading that book, to
say, that " it was like the peace of God, that passeth all un-
Jerstanding."
i HarL MSS. vol. 7000.
lordship, whereof the prince hath demanded of me
what account is given. And because I cannot
inform his highness of any proceeding therein, 1
desire your lordship to use all expeUition that
may be, in making your answer to me, tnat I may
give his highness some satisfaction, who is very
desirous thereof. And so I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, 14th, of October, 1620.
Endorsed,
Touching the Begister of Wills.
to the lord chancellor.
My honourable Lord,
I desire your lordship to continue your favour
to Sir Thomas Gerrard in the jsusiness concerning
him, wherein I signified his majesty's pleasure to
your lordship. And one favour more I am to en-
treat of your lordship in his behalf, that you will
be pleased to speak to one of the assistants of the
Chancellor of the Duchy, in whose court he hath
a cause depending, as he will more fully inform
your lordship himself, to see that he may have a
fair proceeding according to justice: for which
I will ever rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, 15th of October, 1620.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
Your lordship desiring to understand what
cometh of the business, after which the prince
hearkeneth, I was in doubt which of the two
businesses you meant; that of the Duchy, or that
of the Prerogative Court for wills; for both are
recommended from the prince. But be it one, or
be it the other, no time hath been lost in either;
for Mr. Secretary Naunton and I have entered
into both. For the duchy, we have already stayed
all proceedings to the king's disservice for those
manors, which are not already passed under seal.
For that which is passed, we have heard the
attorney* with none or little satisfaction hitherto.
The chancellor-)- is not yet come, though sent for.
For the other, we have heard Sir John Bennet,:p
and given him leave to acquaint my Lord of
Canterbury; and have required the solicitor§ to
come well prepared for the king. So that in
neither we can certify yet, and to trouble your
* Sir Henry Yelverton.
+ Sir Humphrey May, made Chancellor of the Duchy,
March 9, 1617.
X Judge of the Prerogative Court of Canterbury. In 1621,
he was fined £20,000 for bribery, corruption, and eiaction iii
that office. He died in 1627.
i Sir Thomas Coventry.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
131
lordship, while business is but in passage, were
time lost. I ever rest
Your lordship's most obliged
friend and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane,
October 16, 1620.
TO THE KING, THANKING HIS MAJESTY FOR HIS
GRACIOUS ACCEPTANCE OF IIlS BOOK.
May it flease your Majesty,
I cannot express how much comfort I received
by your last letter of your own royal hand.* I
see your majesty is a star that hath benevolent
aspect and gracious influence upon all things that
tend to a general good.
Daphni, quid antiquos signorum suspicis artus T
Ecce Diiiniei processit Ctesaris astrum ;
Astrinii, quo segetes gauderent frugibus, et quo
Duceret apricis in collibus uva colorem. t
This work, which is for the bettering of men's
bread and wine, which are the characters of tem-
poral blessings and sacraments of eternal, I hope,
by God's holy providence, will be ripened by
Caesar's star.
Your majesty shall not only do to myself a
singular favour, but to your business a material
help, if you will be graciously pleased to open
yourself to me in those things wherein you may
be unsatisfied. For, though this work, as by
position and principal, doth disclaim to be tried
by any thing but by experience, and the results
of experience in a true way, yet the sharpness
and profoundness of your majesty's judgment
ought to be an exception to this general rule ; and
your questions, observations, and admonishments
may do infinite good.
This comfortable beginning makes me hope
farther that your majesty will be aiding to me in
setting men on work for the collecting of a na-
tural and experimental history, which is basis
totius negotit, a thing which I assure myself will
be from time to time an excellent recreation unto
you ; I say to that admirable spirit of yours that
delighteth in light : and I hope well, that, even
in your times, many noble inventions may be
discovered for man's use. For who can tell, now
this mine of truth is opened, how the veins go ;
and what lieth higher, and what lieth lower ?
But let me trouble your majesty no farther at
this time. God ever preserve and prosper your
majesty.
[October 19, 1620.]
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I send now only to give his majesty thanks for
* Of the 16ih of October, 1620, printed in Lord Bacon's
works.
t Virgil, Eclog. TX. vers. 46-^9.
the singular comfort which I received by his ma-
jesty's letter of his own hand, touching my book.
And I must also give your lordship of my best
thanks for your letter so kindly and affectionately
written.
I did even now receive your lordship's letter
touching the proclamation, and do approve his
majesty's judgment and foresight about mine own.
Neither would I have thought of inserting matter
of state for the vulgar, but that nowadays there
is no vulgar, but all statesmen. But, as his ma-
jesty doth excellently consider, the time of it is
not yet proper. I ever rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
October 19, 1620.
Endorsed,
In answer to his majesty''s directions touching the
proclamation for a Parliament.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
After my very hearty commendations I have
acquainted his majesty with your letter, who
commanded me to tell you that he had been think-
ing upon the same point whereof you write three
or four days ago, being so far from making any
question of it that he every day expected when a
writ should come down. For at the creation of
Prince Henry, the lords of the council and judo-es
assured his majesty of as much as the precedents
mentioned in your letter speak of. And so I rest
your lordship's
Very loving friend at command,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, the 24th of November, 1620
Endorsed,
Showing his majesty is satisfied with precedents^
touching the prince'' s summons to Parliament.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
Your lordship may find, that in the number of
patents which we have represented to his majesty,
as like to be stirred in the Lower House of Parlia-
ment, we have set down three, which may con-
cern some of your lordship's special friends, which
I account as my own friends ; and so showed my
self when they were in suit. The one, that to Sii
Giles Mompesson, touching the inns ; the second,
to Mr. Christopher Villiers and Mr. Mauie, toucn-
ing the recognisances for ale-houses ; the third, to
Mr. Lieutenant of the Tower, touching the cask
These in duty could not be omitted, for that, spe
* Harl. MSS. vol. 7000.
132
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
^r\V'j the twd first of them, are more rumoured,
".oih by the vulgar and by the gentlemen, yea,
and by the judges themselves, than any other
patsnts at this day. Therefore, I thought it ap-
ye.'tained to the singular love and afTection which
I bear you upon so many obligations, to wish and
aivise that your lordship, whom God hath made
in all things so fit to be beloved, would put off the
envy of these things, which, I think, in them-
selves, bear no great fruit, and rather take the
thanks for ceasing them, than the note for maintain-
ing them. But, howsoever, let me know your mind,
and your lordship shall find I will go your way.
I cannot express how much comfort I take in
the choice which his majesty hath made of my
lord chief justice to be lord treasurer; not for his
sake, nor for my sake, but for the king's sake,
hoping that now a number of counsels, which I
have given for the establishment of his majesty's
estate, and have lain dead and buried deeper than
this snow, may now spring up, and bear fruit;
the rather, for that I persuade myself he and I
shall run one way. And yet I know well, that in
this doubling world cor una et via una is rare in
one man, but more rare between two. And,
therefore, if it please his majesty, according to his
prudent custom in such cases, to cast out, now at
ins coming down, some words, which may the
better knit us in conjunction to do him service, I
suppose it will be to no idle purpose.
And as an old truant in the commission of the
treasury, let me put his majesty in remembrance
of three things now upon his entrance, which he
is presently to go in hand with : the first, to make
Ireland to bear the charge thereof: the second, to
bring all accounts to one purse in the exchequer :
the third, by all possible means to endeavour the
taking off the anticipations. There be a thousand
things more, but these being his majesty's last
commands to the commissioners of the treasury,
with such as in his majesty's princely judgment
shall occur, will do well to season his place.
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
November 29, 1620.
As soon as I had written this letter I received
your lordship's letter, touching my lord chief
justice, which redoubled my comfort, to see how
his majesty's thoughts and mine, his poor ser-
vant's, and your lordship's, meet.
I send enclosed names for the speaker ; and if his
majesty, or your lordship, demand our opinion, !
which of them, my lord chief justice will tell you. j
It were well it were despatched ; for else I will j
not dine with the speaker; for his drink will not!
lie laid in time enough.
I beseech your lordship, care may be taken that ;
f'lir general letter may be kept secret, whereof j
my lord chief justice will tell you the reason. |
to the marquis ofbuckingham
My very good Lord,
I was so full of cold, as I could not attend hi8
majesty to-day. Yesterday I despatched the
proclamation with the council. There was a mo-
tion to have sharpened it ; but better none, than
over sharp at first. I moved the council also for
supplying the committee for drawing of bills and
some other matters, in regard of my Lord Ho-
bart's* sickness, who I think will hardly escape :
which, though it be happiness for him, yet it is
loss for us.
Meanwhile, as I propounded to the king,
which he allowed well, I have broken the main
of the Parliament into questions and parts, which
I send. It may bo, it is an over diligence; but
still methinks there is a middle thing between
art and chance : I think they call it providence,
or some such thing, which good servants owe to
their sovereign, specially in cases of importance
and straits of occasions. And those hufling
elections, and general license of speech ought to
make us the better provided. The way will be,
if his majesty be pleased, to peruse these questions
advisedly, and give me leave to wait on him;
and then refer it to some few of the council, a
little to advise upon it. I ever rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane
December 23, 1620.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
My honourable Lord,
His majesty hath commanded me to signify his
pleasure unto your lordship, that Sir Thomas
Coventry, now his solicitor-general, be forthwith
made his attorney-general : and that your lord-
ship give order to the clerk of the crown to draw
up a grant of the said place unto him accordingly
And so I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Whitehall, 9th of January, 1620.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.t
My honourable Lord,
I have been entreated to recommend unto your
lordship the distressed case of the Lady Martin,
widow of Sir Richard Martin, deceased, who hath
a cause to be heard before your lordship in the
Chancery, at your first sitting in the next term,
between her and one Archer, and others, upon an
ancient statute, due long since unto her husband ;
which cause, I am informed, hath received three
verdicts for her in the common law, a decree in
* Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas.
tHarl. MSS. vol. 7000,
LETl'ERS FROM BIRCH.
in
the Exchequer Chamber, and a dismission before
your lordship : which I was the more, willing to
do, because I have seen a letter of his majesty to
the said Sir Richard Martin, acknowledjring the
good service that he did him in this kinordom, at
the time of his majesty's being in Scotland. And
therefore I desire your lordship, that you would
give her a full and fair hearing of her cause, and
a speedy despatch thereof, her poverty being
such, that having nothing to live on but her hus-
band's debts, if her suit long depend, she shall
be enforced to lose her cause for want of means
to follow it: wherein 1 will acknowledge your
lordship's favour, and rest
Your lordship's faithful
friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Whitehall, the 13th of January, 1020.
to the lord chancellor.*
My honourable Lord,
His majesty hath commanded me to signify his
pleasure unto you, that you give present order
to the c'-ark of the crown to draw a bill to be
signed by his majesty for Robert Heath, late
recorder of London, to be his majesty's solicitor-
generdL So I rest your lordship's
friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Theobalds, 20ih of January, 1620.
TO THE KING.t
May it please your Majesty,
I thank God I number days, both in thank-
fulness to him, and in warning to myself. I
should likewise number your majesty's benefits,
which, as to take them in all kinds, they are
without number; so even in this kind of steps
and degrees of advancement, they are in greater
number than scarcely any other of your subjects
can say. For this is now the eighth time that
your majesty hath raised me.
You formed me of the learned council extraor-
dinary, without patent or fee, a kind of indivi-
duum vagum. You established me, and brought
me into ordinary; soon after you placed me soli-
citor, where I served seven years : then your
majesty made me your attorney, or procurator
general ; then privy counsellor, while I was
attorney ; a kind of miracle of your favour, that
had not been in many ages : thence keeper of
your seal ; and because that was a kind of planet,
and not fixed, chancellor : and when your ma-
• Harl. MSS. vol. 7000.
+ This seems to have been written by Lord St. Albans, just
after he was created a viscount by that title, January 27,
1620
jesty could raise me no higher, it was your ^^tbo'^
to illustrate me with beams of honour, first mrn-
ing me Baron Verulam, and now Viscount St.
Alban. So, this is the eighth rise or reach, a
diapason in music, even a good number, and an
accord for a close. And so I may without super-
stition be buried in St. Alban's habit or vest
ment.
Besides the number, the obligation is increased
by three notes or marks : first, that they proceed
from such a king; for honours from some kings
are but great chancels, or counters, set high ; but
from your majesty, they are indeed dignities by
the co-operation of your grace. Secondly, in
respect of the continuance of your majesty's
favour, which proceedeth as the divine favour,
from grace to grace. And, thirdly, these splen-
dours of honour are like your freest patents,
absque aliquid iiide reddendo. Oflices have bur-
dens of cares and labours; but honours have no
burden but thankfulness, which doth rather raise
men's spirits than accable them, or press them
down.
Then I must say, quid rctribuam? I have no-
thing of mine own. That that God hath given
me I shall present unto your majesty; which is
care and diligence, and assiduous endeavour, and
that which is the chief, cor unum et viam unam ,•
hoping that your majesty will do, as your supe-
rior doth; that is, finding my heart upright, you
will bear with my other imperfections. And,
lastly, your majesty shall have the best of my
time, which I assure myself I shall conclude in
your favour, and survive in your remembrance.
And that is my prayer for myself; the rest shall
be in prayers for your majesty.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.*
My noble Lord,
I have showed your letter of thanks to his ma-
jesty, who saith there are too many thanks in it
for so small a favour ; which he holdeth too little
to encourage so well a deserving servant. For
myself, I shall ever rejoice at the manifestation
of his majesty's favour toward you, and will r:n-
tribute all that is in me, to the increasing of his
good opinion; ever resting
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
With due thanks for your last visit, this day ih
a play-day for me. But I will wait on your lord
ship, if it be necessary.
* Harl. MSS. vol. 7000.
M
^4
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
1 dc liBaT from divers of judgment, that to-mor-
low's conference* is like to pass in a calm, as to
lh3 referees. f Sir Lionel Cranfield, who hath
been tbrmerly the trumpet, said yesterday, that he
d_d now incline to Sir John Walter's opinion and
motion, not to have the referrees meddled with
otherwise, than to discount it from the king; and
so not to look back, but to the future. And I do
hear almost all men of judgment in the House
wish now that way. I woo nobody : I do but
listen, and I have doubt only of Sir Edward Coke,
who, I wish, had some round caveat given him
from the king ; for your lordship hath no great
power wdth him : but I think a word from the
king mates him.
If things be carried fair by the committees of
the Lower House, I am in some doubt, whether
there will be occasion for your lordship to speak
to-morrow; though, I confess, I incline to wish
you did, chiefly because you are fortunate in that
' kind ; and, to be plain also, for our better counte-
nance, when your lordship, according to your
noble proposition, shall show more regard of the
fraternity you have with great counsellors, than
of the interest of your natural brother.
Always, good my lord, let us think of times
out of Parliament, as well as the present time in
Parliament ; and let us not all be put es pour-
point. Fair and moderate courses are ever best
in causes of estate ; the rather, because I wish
this Parliament, by the sweet and united passages
thereof, may increase the king's reputation with
foreigners, who may make a far other judgment
than we mean, of a beginning to question great
counsellors and officers of the crown, by courts or
assemblies of estates. But the reflection upon my
particular in this makes me more sparing than
perhaps, as a counsellor, I ought to be.
God ever preserve and prosper you.
Your lordship's true servant all and ever,
Fr. St. Alban, Cane.
March 7, the day I received the seal, 1620.
TO THE KING.J
It may please your Majesty.
I received your majesty's letter about midnight;
and because it was stronger than the ancient
♦ On Monday the 5th of March, 1620-21, the House of Lords
received a message from the Commons, desiring a conference
touching certain grievances, principally concerning Sir^iles
Mompesson. — See Journal of the House of Lords.
+ Those to whom the king referred the petitions, to con-
sider whether they were fit to be granted or not. This ex-
planation of the word referees, I owe to a note in a MS. let-
ter, written to the celebrated Mr. Joseph Mead, of Christ's
College, Cambridge.
t The date of this letter is determined to be the 8th of
March, 1620-1, from the circumstance of its being mentioned
to have been written on that Thursday, on which the House
of Lords adjourned to the Saturday following. It appears
from the journal of that House, that, on the 8th of March,
summons of the exchequer, which is, sicut tetpsum
et omnia tua diligis ; whereas this was sicut me
diligis; I used all possible care to effect your
majesty's good will and pleasure.
I sent early to the prince, and to my lord
treasurer ; and we attended his highness soon
after seven of the clock, at Whitehall, to avoid
farther note. We agreed, that if the message
came, we would put the lords into this way, that
the answer should be that we understood they
came prepared both with examination and prece-
dent; and we likewise desired to be alike pre-
pared, that the conference might be with more
fruit.
I did farther speak with my Lord of Canterbury,
when I came to the House, not letting him know
any part of the business, that he would go on
with a motion which he had told me of the day
before, that the Lords' House might not sit Wed-
nesday and Friday, because they were convoca-
tion-days ; and so was the former custom of Par-
liament.
As good luck was, the house read two bills,
and had no other business at all ; whereupon my
Lord of Canterbury made his motion ; and 1 ad-
journed the House till Saturday. It wasnosoone?
done, but came the message from the Lower House
But the consummatum est was past, though I per-
ceived a great willingness in many of the lore's to
have recalled it, if it might have been.
So, with my best prayers for your majesty's
preservation, I rest
Your majesty's most bounden,
and most devoted servant,
Fr. St. Alban, Cane-
Thursday, at eleven of our forenoon, March 8, 1620.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.*
My very good Lord,
Your lordship spoke of purgatory. I am now
in it ; but my mind is in a calm ; for my fortune
is not my felicity. I know I have clean hands,
and a clean heart; and I hope a clean house
1620, the said House, at which were present the Prince of
Wales and Marquis of Buckingham, was adjourned to Satur-
day the 10th, on which day a conference of both Houses was
held relating to the complaint of that of the Commons against
Sir Giles Mompesson. Of this conference the lord chancellor
made report on Monday, March 12, to the House of Lords,
remarking, that "the inducement to this conference was to
clear the king's honour, touching grants to Sir Giles, and the
passages in procuring the same." After this report of the
conference, the lord chamberlain, William, Earl of Pem-
broke, complained to the House, that two great lords, mean-
ing the lord chancellor and the lord treasurer, the Lord
Viscount Mandeville, had, in that conference, spake in their
own defence, not being allowed to do so when the committees
mere named. Upon which both the lords acknowledged their
error, and begged pardon of the House.
♦ This letter seems to have been written soon after Lord
St. Alban began to be accused of abuses in his olBce of
chancellor.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
135
for friends or servants. But Job himself, or
whosoever was the justest judge, by such hunt-
ing for matters against him, as hath been
used against me, may for a time seem foul,
especially in a time when greatness is the mark,
and accusation is the game. And if this be to be
a chancellor, I think, if the great seal iay upon
Hounslow Heath, nobody would take it up. But
the king and your lordship will I hope put an end
to these my straits one way or other. And, in
troth, that which I fear most, is, lest continual
attendance and business, together with these cares,
and want of time to do my weak body right this
spring by diet and physic, will cast me down;
and that it will be thought feigning, or fainting.
But 1 hope in God I shall hold out. God prosper
you.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR OF THE DUCIIY, SIR
HUMPHREY MAY.
Good Mr. Chancellor,
There will come, upon Friday, before you a
a patent* of his majesty's for the separation of
the company of apothecaries from the company of
grocers, and their survey, and the erecting them
into a corporation of themselves under the survey
of the physicians. It is, as I conceive, a fair
business both for law and conveniency, and a
work which the king made his own, and did, and
as I hear doth take much to heart. It is in favorein
vitas, where the other part is tnfavurem lucri. You
may perhaps think me partial to apothecaries, that
have been ever puddering in physic all my life.
But there is a circumstance that touches upon me
hnipost diem, for it is comprehended in the charge
and sentence passed upon me. It is true, that
after I had put the seal to the patent, the apothe-
cariesf presented me with a hundred pounds. It
was no judicial affair. But, howsoever, as it may
not be defended, so I would be glad it were not
raked up more than needs. I doubt only the chair,
because I hear he useth names sharply ; and, be-
sides, it may be, he hath a tooth at me yet, which
is not fallen out with age. But the best is, as one
» The patent for incorporatins the apothecaries by them-
selves, by the appellation of "The Masters, Wardens, and
Society of the Art and Mystery of A|)othecaries of London,"
was dated December 6, 1617. They had been incorporated
with the company of grocers, April 0, 1606.
+ His lordship being charged by the House of Commons,
that he had received one hundred pounds ofihe new company
of apothecaries, that stood against the grocers, as, likewise,
a taster of gold worth between four and five hundred pounds,
with a present of ambergrise, from the apothecaries that
stood with the grocers ; and two hundred pounds of the
grocers ; he admits the several sums to have been re-
ceived of the three parties, but alleges, "that he consi-
dered those presents as no judicial business, but a concord
_ of composition between the parties : and, as he thought they
had all three received good, and they were all common
purses, he thought it the less matter to receive what they
voluntarily presented ; for if had taken it in the nature of a
bribe, he knew it could not be concealed, because it must be
put to 'he account of the three several companies."
saith, satis est lapsos non ertgere; urgere vero
jacentes, aut prsccipitantis impellere, eerie est tn/iw
manum, Mr. Chancellor, if you will be nobly
pleased to grace me upon this occasion, by show-
ing tenderness of my name, and commiseration
of my fortune, there is no man in that assembly
from whose mouth I had rather it should come.
I hope it will be no dishonour to you. It will
oblige me much, and be a worthy fruit of our last
reintegration of friendship. I rest
Your faithful friend to do you service.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.*
My very good Lord,
I humbly thank your lordship for the grace and
favour which you did both to the message and
messenger, in bringing Mr. Meautys to kiss his
majest.y's hands, and to receive his pleasure. My
riches in my adversity have been, that I have had
a good master, a good friend, and a good servant.
Perceiving, by Mr. Meautys, his majesty's in-
clination, it shall be, as it hath ever used to be to
me, instead of a direction; and, therefore, I pur-
pose to go forthwith to Gorhambury, humbly thank-
ing his majesty, nevertheless, that he was graci-
ously pleased to have acquainted my lords with
my desire, if it had stood me so much upon. But
his majesty knoweth best the times and seasons ;
and to his grace I submit myself, desiring his
majesty and your lordship to take my letters from
the Tower as written de profundis, e^id those I
continue to write to be ex aquis salsis.
June 22, 1621.
Endorsed,
To Lord BucJa'ngham, upon bringing Mr. Meautys
to kiss the king^s hands.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I have written, as I thought it decent in me to
do, to his majesty the letter I send enclosed. I
have great faith that your lordship, now nobly
and like yourself, will effect with his majesty.
In this the king is of himself, and it hath no rela-
tion to Parliament. I have written also, as your
lordship advised me, only touching that point of
mejns. I have lived hitherto upon the scn:ps of
my former fortunes ; and I shall not be able to hold
out longer. Therefore, I hope your lordship will
now, according to the loving promises and hopes
given, settle my poor fortunes, or rather my being.
I am much fallen in love with a private life ; but
♦ This letter is reprinted here, because it differs in some
respects from that published in Letters, Memoirs, Parliamen-
tary Affairs, State Papers, &c. bv Robert Stepbens Esq., p
131, Edit. London, 1730, 4to.
U6
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
yet I shall so spend my time, as shall not decay
uiv abilities for use.
God preserve and prosper your lordship.
September 5, 1621.
TO THE PRINCE.
May it please your Highness,
I cannot too oft acknowledge your highness's
favour in my troubles ; but acknowledgment now
is but begging of new favour. Yet, even that is
not inconvenient; for thanksgiving and petition
go well together, even to God himself. My
humble suit to your highness, that 1 may be
thought on for means to subsist; and to that pur-
pose, that your highness will join with my noble
friend to the king. That done, I shall ever be
ready either at God's call or his majesty's, and as
happy to my thinking as a man can be, that must
leave to serve such a king.
God preserve and prosper your highness.
On the back of the draughts of the three preceding
letters were written the following memoranda.
Bishops Winchester,* Durham,")" London. :|:
Lord Duke,§ Lord Hunsdon.
Lord Chamberlain, II to thank him for his kind
remembrance by you ; and though in this private
fortune I shall have use of few friends, yet, I
cannot but acknowledge the moderation and affec-
tion his lordship showed in my business, and
desire, that of those few his lordship will still be
one for my comfort, in whatsoever may cross his
way, for the furtherance of my private life and
fortune.
Mr. John Murray. If there be any thing that
may concern me, that is fit for him to speak, and
me to know, that I may receive it by you.
Mr. Maxwell. That I am sorry, that so soon
as I came to know him, and to be beholding to
him, I wanted power to be of use for him.
Lord of Kelly ; and to acquaint him with that
part touching the confinement.
TO THE KING
It may please your Majesty,
Now that your majesty hath passed the recrea-
tion of your progress, there is, nevertheless, one
kind of recreation, which I know remaineth
with your majesty all the year; which is to do
good, and to exercise your clemency and benefi-
cence. I shall never measure my poor service
by the merit, which perhaps is small, but by the
* Di Andrews.
t Dr George Mountain.
;i William, Earl of Pembroke.
t Dr. Riohard Neile.
$ Lenox. I
acceptation, which hath been always favourably
great. I have served your majesty now seventeen
years; and since my first service, (which was in
the commission of the union,) I received from
your majesty never chiding or rebuke, but always
sweetness and thanks. Neither was I in these
seventeen years ever chargeable to your majesty,
but got my means in an honourable sweat of my
labour, save that of late your majesty was graci-
ously pleased to bestow upon me the pension of
twelve hundred pounds for a ievf years. For in
that other poor prop of my estate, which is the
farming of the petty writs, I improved your ma-
jesty's revenue by four hundred pounds the year.
And, likewise, when I received the seal, I left
both the attorney's place, which was a gainful
place, and the clerkship of the Star Chamber,
which was Queen Elizabeth's favour, and was
worth twelve hundred pounds by the year, which
would have been a good commendam. The
honours which your majesty hath done me have
put me above the means to get my living; and
the misery I am fallen into hath put me below
the means to subsist as I am. I hope my cburses
shall be such, for this little end of my thread
which remaineth, as your majesty in doing me
good may do good to many, both that live now,
and shall be born hereafter. I have been tha
keeper of your seal, and now am your beadsman.
Let your own royal heart, and my noble friend,
speak the rest.
God preserve and prosper your majesty.
Your majesty's faithful
poor servant and beadsman,
Fr. St. Alban.
September 5, 1621.
Cardinal Wolsey said, that if he had pleased
God as he pleased the king, he had not been
ruined. My conscience saith no such thing ; for
I know not but in serving you, I have served God
in one. But it may be, if I had pleased God, as I
had pleased you, it would have been better with me.
TO THE KING.
May IT PLEASE YOUR MOST EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
I do very humbly thank your majesty for your
gracious remission of my fine. I can now, I
thank God and you, die, and make a will.
I desire to do, for the little time God shall send
me life, like the merchants of London, which,
when they give over trade, lay out their money
upon land. So, being freed from civil business,
I lay forth my poor talent upon those things which
may be perpetual, still having relation to do you
honour with those powers I have left.
I have, therefore, chosen to write the reign oJ
King Henry the Vllth, who was in a sort youi
forerunner, and whose spirit, as well as his blood
is doubled upon your majesty.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
137
I durst not have presumed to entreat your ma-
j( sty to look over the book, and correct it, or at
least to si<riiify what you would have arneiulf^d.
i'ut since you arc pleased to send for the book, I
will hope for it.
[*God knoweth whether ever I shall see you
again ; but I will pray for you to the last gasp,
resting]
The same, your true beadsman,
Fk. St. Alban.
October 8, 1621.
DR. WILLIAMS, BISHOP OF LINCOLN ELECT, AND
lord keepf.r of the great seal, to the
viscount st. alban.
My very good Lord,
Having perused a privy seal, containing a par-
don for your lordship, and thought seriously
thereupon, I find, that the passing of the same
(the assembly in Parliament so near approachingf )
cannot but be. much prejudicial to the service of
the king, to the honour of my Lord of Bucking-
ham, to that commiseration, which otherwise
would be had of your lordship's present estate,
and especially to my judgment and fidelity. I
have ever affectionately loved your lordship's
many and most excelling good parts and endow-
ments ; nor had ever cause to disaffect your lord-
ship's person : so as no respect in the world,
beside the former considerations, could have
drawn me to add the least affliction or discon-
tentment unto your lordship's present fortune.
May it, therefore, please your lordship to suspend
the passing of this pardon, until the next assem-
bly be over and dissolved ; and I will be then as
ready to seal it as your lordship to accept of it :
and, in the mean time, undertake that the king
and my lord admiral shall interpret this short
delay as a service and respect issuing wholly from
your lordship ; and rest, in all other offices what-
soever.
Your lordship's faithful servant,
Jo. Lincoln, elect. Gustos Sigilli.
Westminster College, October 18, 1621.
To the right honourable, his very good lord, the
Lord Viscount St. Alban.
to the lord keeper.
My very good Lord,
1 know the reasons must appear to your lord-
ship many and weighty which should move you
to stop the king's grace, or to dissuade it; and
somewhat the more in respect of my person, be-
ing, I hope, no unfit subject for noble dealing.
* This passage has a line drawn over it.
+ It met November 24, 1621, and was dissolved February
8, 1621-2
Vol. m.— 18
The message I received by Mr. Meautys aid im-
port inconvenience, in the form of the pardon ;
your lordship's last letter, in the time : for, as fot
the matter, it lay so fair for his majesty's and my
Lord of Buckingham's own knowledge, as I con-
ceive your lordship doth not aim at that. My
aflliction hath made me understand myself better,
and not worse; yet loving advice, I know, helps
well. Therefore, I send Mr. Meautys to your
lordship, that I might reap so much your fruit of
your lordship's professed good affection, as to
know in some more pirticular fashion, what it is
that your lordship doubteth, or disliketh, that I
may the better endeavour your satisfaction or ac-
quiescence, if there be cause. So I rest
Your lordship's to do you service,
Fr. St. Alban.
October 18, 1621.
PETITION OF THE LORD VISCOUN'^ ST. ALBAN,
INTENDED FOR THE HOUSE OF LORDS.
My right honourable very good Lords,
In all humbleness, acknowledging your lord-
ships' justice, I do now, in like manner, crave
and implore your grace and compassion. I am
old, weak, ruined, in want, a very subject of pity.
My only suit to your lordships is to show me
your noble favour towards the release of my con-
finement, (so every confinement is,) and to me, I
protest, worse than the Tower.* There I could
have had company, physicians, conference with
my creditors and friends about my debts, and the
necessities of my estate, helps for my studies, anc
the writings I have in hand. Here, I live upon
the sword point of a sharp air, endangered if I go
abroad, dulled if I stay within, solitary and com-
fortless without company, banished from all op-
portunities to treat with any to do myself gooil,
and to help out any wrecks; and that, which is
one of my greatest griefs, my wife, that hath been
no partaker of my offending, must be partaker of
this misery of my restraint.
May it please your lordships, therefore, since
there is a time for justice, and a time for misery,
to think with compassion upon that which I have
already suffered, which is not little, and to re-
commend this my humble, and, as I hope, modest
suit to his most excellent majesty, the fountain
of grace, of whose mercy, for so much as con-
cerns himself merely, I have already tasted, and
likewise of his favour of this very kind, by some
small temporary dispensations.
Herein your lordships shall do a work of cha-
rity and nobility ; you shall do me good ; yon
* He had been committed to the Tower in May, 1621, and
discharged after two days' confinement there, according to
Camden.— j?HnaZes Regis JacoU /., p. 71. There is a letter of
his lordship to the Marquis of Buckinstham, dated from the
Tower, May 31, 1621, desiring his lordship to procure his di»
charge that day.
m3
138
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
shall do my creditors good ; and, it may be, you
shall do posterity good, if out of the carcass of
dead and rotten greatness, as out of Samson's
lion, there may be honey gathered for the use of
future times.
God bless your persons and counsels.
Your lordships' supplicant and servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
Endorsed,
Copy of the petition intended for the House of Par-
liament.
TO JOHN, LORD DIGBY.*
My very good Lord,
Receiving, by Mr. Johnson, your loving salu-
tations, it made me call to mind many of your
lordship's tokens, yea, and pledges, of good and
hearty affection in both my fortunes ; for which I
shall be ever yours. I pray, my lord, if occasion
serve, give me your good word to the king, for the
release of my confinement, which is to me a very
strait kind of imprisonment. I am no Jesuit, nor
no leper; but one that served his majesty these
sixteen years, even from the commission of the
union till this last Parliament, and ever had many
thanks of his majesty, and was never chidden.
This his majesty, I know, will remember at one
time or other ; for I am his man still.
God keep your lordship.
Your lordship's most affectionate
to do you service,
Fr. St. Alban.
Gorliainbury, this last of December, 1621.
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN.+
My honourable Lord,
I have received your lordship's letter, and have
been long thinking upon it, and the longer, the
less able to make answer unto it. Therefore, if
your lordship will be pleased to send any under-
standing man unto me, to whom I may in dis-
course open myself, I will, by that means, so dis-
cover my heart, with all freedom, which were too
long to do by letter, especially in this time of
Parliament business, that your lordship shall
receive satisfaction. In the mean time I rest
Your lordship's faithful servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, December 16, 1621.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My VERY GOOD Lord,
The reason why I was so desirous to have had
conference with your lordship at London, was
• Created so In November, loiS, and in September, 1622,
Ran of Bristol.
i Harl. MSS. vol. 7000
indeed to save you the trouble of writing : I mean
the reason in the second place ; for the chief was
t© see your lordship. But since you are pleased
to give me the liberty to send to your lordship
one to whom you will deliver your mind, I take
that in so good part, as I think myself tied the
more to use that liberty modestly. "Wherefore,
if your lordship will vouchsafe to send to me one
of your own, (except I might have leave to come
to London,) either Mr. Packer, my ancient friend,
or Mr. Aylesbury,* of whose good affection to-
wards me I have heard report; to me it shall be
indifferent. But if your lordship will have one
of my nomination, if I might presume so far, I
would name, before all others, my Lord of Falk-
land. But because perhaps it may cost him a
journey, which I may not in good manners
desire, I have thought of Sir Edward Sackville,
Sir Robert Mansell, my brother, Mr, Solicitor
General,! (who, though he be almost a stranger
to me, yet, as my case now is, I had rather em-
ploy a man of good nature than a friend,) and Sir
Arthur Ingram, notwithstanding he be great with
my Lord Treasurer. Of these, if your lordship
shall be pleased to prick one, I hope well I shall
entreat him to attend your lordship, and to be
sorry never a whit of the employment. Your
lordship may take your own time to signify your
will in regard of the present business of Parlia-
ment. But my time was confined by due respect
to write a present answer to a letter, which I con-
strued to be a kind letter, and such as giveth me
yet hope to show myself to your lordship.
Y^our lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
Endorsed,
To the Lord of Buckingham, in answer to his of
the \Q)th of December.
THOMAS MEAUTYS, ESQ.J TO THE LORD VIS-
COUNT ST. ALBAN.
May IT PLEASE YOUR Lordship,
As soon as I came to London I repaired to Sir
Edward Sackville,§ whom I find very zealous,
as I told your lordship. I left him to do your
♦ Thomas Aylesbury, Esq., secretary to the Marquis of
Buckingham, as lord high admiral. He was created a
baronet in 1627. Lord Chancellor Clarendon married his
dauchter Frances.
+ Sir Robert Heath, made solicitor in January 14, 1020-1.
t He had been secretary to the Lord Visrount St. Albar,,
while his lordship had the great seal, and was afterwards
clerk of the council, and knishted. He succeeded his patron
in the manor of Gorhambury, which, after the death of Sir
Thomas, came to bis consin and heir. Sir Thomas Meautys
who married Anne, daughter of Sir Nathaniel Bacon, ot
Culford Hall, in Suffolk, knight ; which lady married a second
husband, Sir Harbottle Grinistone, baronet, and master of
the rolls, who purchased the reversion of Gorhambury from
Sir Hercules Meautys, nephew of the second Sir Thomas.
? Afterwards Earl of Dorset, well known for his duel, in
1613, with the Lord Kinloss, in which the latter was Killed.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
139
service, in any particular you shall command
him, to my lord marquis, (though it were with
some adventure ;) and withal he imparted to me
what advice he had given to my lady this after-
noon, upon his visiting of her at York House,
when Mr. Packer also, as it fell out, was come,
at the same time, to see my lady, and seemed to
concur with Sir Edward Sackville in the same
ways ; which were for my lady to become a suitor
to my Lady Buckingham,* and my lady marchio-
nessf to work my lord marquis for obtaining of
the king some bounty towards your lordship ; and
in particular that of the thousand pounds for the
small writs. If I may speak my opinion to your
lordship, it is not amiss to begin any way, or
with any particular, though but small game at
first, only to set a rusty clock agoing, and then
haply it may go right for a time, enough to bring
on the rest of your lordship's requests. Yet,
because your lordship directed me to wish my
lady, from you, by no means to act any thing,
but only to open her mind in discourse unto
friends, until she should receive your farther
direction, it became not me to be too forward in
putting it on too fast with Sir Edward ; and my
lady was pleased to tell me since that she hath
written to your lordship at large.
I incpiired, even now, of Benbow, whether the
proclamation for dissolving the Parliament was
coming forth. He tells me he knows no more
certainty of it, than that Mr. Secretary com-
manded him yesterday to be ready for despatching
of the writs, when he should be called for; but
since then he hears it sticks, and endures some
qualms; but they speak it still aloud at court
that the king is resolved of it.
Benbovv tells me likewise, that he hath attended
these two days upon a committee of the lords,
with the book of the commission of peace ; and
that their work is to empty the commission in
some counties by the score, and many of them
Parliament men ; which course sure helps to ring
the passing bell to the Parliament.
Mr. Borough:}: tells me, he is at this present
fain to attend some service for the king, but about
Saturday he hopes to be at liberty to wait upon
your lordship. I humbly rest
Your lordship's forever to honour and serve,
T. Meautys.
January 3, 1621.
To the Right Honourable my most honoured lord,
the Lord Viscount St. Mban.
• Mary, Countess of Buckinsham, mother of the marquis.
t Catharine, Marchioness of Buckingham, wife of the
marquis, and only daughter and heir of Francis, Earl of
Rutland.
t.lohn Borough, educated in common law at Gray's Inn,
Keeper of the Records in the Tower of London, Secretary to
the Earl Marshal, in 1623 made Norroy ; in July, the year
following, knighted, and on the 23d of December, the same
year, made Garter King at Arms, in the place of Sir William
Kegar. He died October 21, 1643.
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN,
May it please your Lordship,
This afternoon my lady found access to rny lord
marquis, procured for her by my Lord of Mont-
gomery* and Sir Edward Sackville, v/ho seemed to
contend which of them should show most patience
in waiting (which they did a whole afternooni
the opportunity to bring my lord to his chamber,
where my lady attended him. But when he was
come, she found time enough to speak at large :
and though my lord spake So loud as that what
passed was no secret to me and some others that
were within hearing, yet, becau.se my lady told
me she purposeth to write to your lordship the
whole passage, it becometh not me to anticipate,
by these, any part of her ladyship's relation.
I send your lordship herewith the proclamation
for dissolving the Parliament, wherein there is
nothing forgotten that wej" have done amiss; but
for most of those things that we have well done,
we must be fain, I see, to commend ourselves.
I delivered your lordship's to my Lord of
Montgomery and Mr. Matthew, who was even
then come to York House to visit my lady, when
I received the letter; and, as soon as he had read
it, he said, that he had rather your lordship had
sent him a challenge ; and that it had been easier
to answer than so noble and kind a letter. He
intends to see your lordship some time this week,
and so doth Sir Edward Sackville, who is forward
to make my lady a way by the prince, if your
lordship advise it.
There are packets newly come out of Spain;
and the king, they say, seems well pleased with
the contents ; wherein there is an absolute promise
and undertaking for the restitution of the pala-
tinate ; the dispensation returned already from the
pope, and the match hastened on their parts. My
Lord Digby goes shortly ; and Mr. Matthew tells
me he means, before his going, to write by him
to your lordship.
The king goes not till Wednesday, and the
prince certainly goes with him. My lord marquis,
in person, christens my Lord of Falkland's child
to-morrow, at his house by Watford.
Mr. IMurray:|: tells me the king hath given your
book§ to my Lord Brooke,]] and enjoined him to
read it, recommending it much to him ; and then
my Lord Brooke is to return it to your lordship ;
and so it may go to the press when your lordship
pleases, with such amendments as the king hatji
made, which I have seen, and are very few, and
those rather words, as epidemic, and viild, instead
♦ Philip, afterwards Earl of Pembroke.
+ Mr. Meautys was member in th.s Parliament for the town
of Cambridge.
t Thomas Murray, tutor and secretary to the prince, made
provost of Eton College, in the room of Sir Henry Savile.
who died February 19, 1621-2. Mr. Murray died, Jikewwe
April 1, 1623.
J The History of the Reign of King Henry the Seventh
II Fulk Grevile.
140
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
of debonnaire, etc. Only that of persons attainted, I
enabled to serve in Parliament by a bare reversal I
-if their attainder, the icing by all means will have
left out. I met with my Lord Brooke, and told
hiu), that Mr. Murray had directed me to wait
upon him for the book, when he had done with it.
He desired to be spared this week, as being to him
a week of much business, and the next week 1
should have it ; and he ended in a compliment, that
care should be taken, by all means, for good ink and
paper to print it in, for that the book deserveth it.
I beg leave to kiss your lordship's hands.
Your lordship's in all humbleness
to honour and serve,
T. Meautys.
January 7, 1621-2.
This proclamation is not yet sealed ; and, there-
fore, your lordship may please as yet to keep it in
your own hands.
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN.
My most honoured Lord,
I met, even now, with a piece of news so unex-
pected, and yet so certainly true, as that, howso-
ever, I had much ado, at first, to desire the relater
to speak probably ; yet, now I dare send it your
lordship upon my credit. It is my Lord of Somer-
set's and his lady's coming out of the Tower, on
Saturday last,* fetched forth by my Lord of Falk-
land, and without the usual degrees of confine-
ment, at first to some one place,! ^^^ absolute
and free, to go where they please. I know not
how peradventure this might occasion you to cast
your thoughts, touching yourself, into some new
mould, though not in the main, yet in something
on the by.
I beg leave to kiss your lordship's hands.
Your lordship's, in all humbleness,
forever to honour and serve you,
T. Meautys.
LODOWIC STUART, DUKE OF LENOX, TO THE
LORD VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN.
My Lord, — It is not unknown to your lordship,
that, in respect I am now a married man, I have
more reason than before to think of providing me
some house in London, whereof I am yet destitute;
and for that purpose I have resolved to entreat
your lordship, that I may deal with you for York
House; wherein I will not offer any conditions
*yj your loss. And, in respect I have understood,
.Tanuary 6, 1621-2. Camdeni Annates Reg-is Jacobi /.,
t Camden, 7<6i «upro, says, that "the earl was ordered to
confine himself to the Lord Viscount VVellingford's house,
M neighbourhood '
that the consideration of your lady's wanting a
house hath bred some difficulty in your lordship
to part with it, I will for that make offer unto your
lordship, and your lady, to use the house in Canon
Row, late the Earl of Hertford's, being a very
commodious and capable house, wherein I and
my wife have absolute power; and whereof your
lordship shall have as long time as you can chal-
lenge or desire of York House. In this I do
freelier deal with your lordship, in respect 1 know
you are well assured of my well wishes to you
in general ; and that in this particular, though I
have not been witliout thoughts of this house be-
fore your lordship had it, yet, I was willing to
give way to your lordship's more pressing use
thereof then. And as I do not doubt of your
lordship's endeavour to gratify me in this, so 1
shall esteem it as an extraordinary courtesy, which
I will study to requite by all means.
So, with my best wishes to your lordship, I
rest
Your lordship's most loving friend,
Lenox.
In respect my Lord of Buckingham was once
desirous to have had this house, I would not deal
for it till now, that he is otherwise provided.
Whitehall, the 29th of January, 1621.
To the Right Honourable my very good lord,^my
Lord Viscount St, Alban.
answ^er of the lord viscount of st. alban.
My very good Lord,
I am sorry to deny your grace any thing; but
in this you will pardon me. York House is the
house wherein my father died, and wherein I first
breathed ; and there will I yield my last breath,
if so please God, and the king will give me leave ;
though I be now by fortune (as the old proverb
is) like a bear in a monk's hood. At least no
money, no value, shall make me part with it.
Besides, as I never denied it to my lord marquis,
so yet the difficulty I made was so like a denial,
as I owe unto my great love and respect to his
lordship a denial to all my other friends; among
whom, in a very near place next his lordship, I
ever accounted of your grace. So, not doubting
that you will continue me in your former love and
good affection, I rest
Your grace's, to do you humble
service, affectionate, &c.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
As my hopes, since my misfortunes, have pro-
ceeded of your lordship's mere motion, without
any petition of mine, so I leave the times and tho
LETTERS FIlOxM BIRCH
14)
ways to the same good mind of yours. True it
is, a small matter for my debts would do me
more good now than double a twelvemonth hence.
I have lost six thousand pounds by year, besides
caps and courtesies. But now a very moderate
proportion would suffice; fori still bear a little
of the mind of a commissioner of the treasury,
not to be overchargeabie to his majesty; and two
thiiiirs I may assure your lordship of: the one,
that 1 shall lead such a course of life, as whatso-
ever the king doth for me shall rather sort to his
majesty's and your lordship's honour, than to
envy : the other, that whatsoever men talk, I can
play the good husband, and the king's bounty
shall not be lost. If your lordship think good
the prince should come in to help, I know his
highness wisheth me well; if you will let me
know when, and how he may be used. But the
king is the fountain, who, I know is good.
God prosper you.
Your lordship's most bounden
and faithful,
Fr. St. Alban.
Gorhanibury, January 30, 1621
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
Your lordship dealeth honourably with me in
giving me notice, that your lordship is provided
of a house,* whereby you discontinue the treaty
your lordship had with me for York House,
hlthough I shall make no use of this notice, as to
deal with any other. For I was ever resolved
your lordship should have had it, or no man.
But your lordship doth yet more nobly, in assur-
ing me, you never meant it with any the least
inconvenience to myself. May it please your
lordship likewise to be assured from me, that I
ever desired you should have it, and do still con-
tinue of the same mind.
I humbly pray your lordship to move his ma-
jesty to take commiseration of my long imprison-
ment. Wiien I was in the Tower, I was nearer
help of physic; I could parley with my creditors ;
I could deal with friends about my business; I
could have helps at hand for my writings and
studies, wherein I spend my time; all which
here fail me. Good my lord, deliver me out of
this ; me, who am his majesty's devout beads-
man, and
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
Gnrliam'jury, this 3d of Feb., 1621.
• Mr Chamberlain, in a MS. letter to Sir Dudley Carleton,
dated It London, January 19, 1621-2, mentions, that the Mar-
quis of Ituikinchain Iiiid contraited with the Lord and Lady
Wallingford, for their house near Whitehall, for some
noney
TO THE I ORD VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN.
May it PLEASt your Lordship,
Remembering that the letter your lordship put
yesterday into my hand was locked up under two
or three seals, it ran in my head, that it might bf.
business of importance, and require haste ; and
not finding Mr. Matthew in town, nor any certainty
of his return till Monday or Tuesday, I thought n
became me to let your lordship know it, tiiat sc ]
might receive your lordship's j)leasure (if need
were) to send it by as safe a hand as if it had
three seals more.
My lord, I saw Sir Arthur Ingram, who let fall
somewhat, as if he could have been contented to
have received a letter by me from your lordship,
with something in it like an acknowledgment to
my lord treasurer,* that by his means you had
received a kind letter from my lord marquis. But,
in the close, he came about, and fell rather to
excuse what was left out of the letter, than to
please himself mu:;h with what was within it.
Only, indeed, he looked upon me, as if he did a
little distrust my good meaning in it. But that is
all one to me ; for 1 have been used to it of late from
others, as well as from him. But persons apt to
be suspicious may well be borne with ; for cer-
tainly they trouble themselves most, and lose
most by it. For of such it is a hard question,
whether those be fewest whom they trust, or those
who trust them. But for him, and some others,
I will end in a wish, that, as to your lordship's
service, they might prove but half so much
honester, as they think themselves wiser, than
other men.
It is doubtful whether the king will come to
morrow or not ; for they say he is full of pain in
his feet.
My lord marquis came late to town last night,
and goeth back this evening ; and Sir Edward
Sackville watcheth an opportunity to speak with
him before he go. However, he wisheth that
your lordship would lose no time in returning an
answer, made all of sweetmeats, to my lord
marquis's letter, which, he is confident, will be
both tasted and digested by him. And Sir Ed-
ward wisheth that the other letter to my lord
marquis, for presenting your discourse of laws to
his majest}', might follow the first. I humbly res*
Your lordship's forever truly
to honour and ser^'e you,
Tho. Meautys.
Martii 3, 1621.
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN.
It may please voi-r Lordship,
I had not failed to appear this night, upon you
lordship's summons, but that my stay till to«
♦ Lionel, Lord Cranfield, made Lord Treasurer in Octotu-T,
1621.
142
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
morrow, I knew, would mend my welcome, by
bringincr Mr. Matthew, who means to dine with
your lordship only, and so to rebound back to
London, by reason my Lord Digfiy's journey calls
tor him on the sudden. Neither yet was this all
ihat stayed me ; for I hear somewhat that I like
reasonably well ; and yet I hope it will mend too ;
which is, that my lord marquis hath sent you a
message by my Lord of Falkland, (which is a far
better hand than my lord treasurer's,) that gives
you leave to come presently to Highgate : and
Sir Edward Sackville, speaking for the other five
miles, my lord commended his care and zeal for
your lordship, but silenced him thus: "Let my
lord be ruled by me : it will be never the worse
for him." But my lord marquis saying farther to
him, "Sir Edward, however you play a good
friend's part for my Lord St. Alban, yet I must
tell you, I have not been well used by him."
And Sir Edward desiring of him to open himself
in whatsoever he might take offence at ; and,
withal, taking upon him to have known so much,
from time to time, of your lordship's heart, and
endeavours towards his lordship, as that he
doubted not but he was able to clear any mist
that had been cast before his lordship's eyes by
your enemies ; my lord marquis, by this time
being ready to go to the Spanish ambassador's
to dinner, broke olf with Sir Edward, and told
him, that after dinner he would be back at Wal-
lingford House, and then he would tell Sir Edward
more of his mind ; with whom I have had newly
conference at large, and traced out to him, as he
desired me, some particulars of that which they
call a treaty with my lord treasurer about York
House, which Sir Edward Sackville knows how
to put together, and make a smooth tale of it for
your lordship : and this night I shall know all
from him, and to-morrow, by dinner, I shall not
fail to attend your lordship : till when, and ever,
I rest
Your lordship's in all truth
to honour and serve you,
T. Meautys.
Endorsed,
Received, March 1 1 .
TO HENRY CARY, LORD VISCOUNT FALKLAND.*
My VERY GOOD Loud,
Your lordship's letter was the best letter I re-
ceived this good while, except the last kind letter
fiom my Lord of Buckingham, which this con-
f^rmeth. It is the best accident, one of them,
amongst men, when they hap to be oblio-ed to
those, whom naturally and personally they love, as
1 ever tiid your lordship ; in troth not many between
my lord marquis and yourself; so that the sparks
of my ift'ection shall ever rest quick, under the
• Appoin.'ed Lo-d Deputy of Ireland, Septembers, 1622.
ashes of my fortune, to do you service ; and wish-
ing to your fortune and family all good.
Your lordship's most affectionate
and much obliged, etc.
I pray your lordship to present my humble
service and thanks to my lord marquis, to whom,
when I have a little paused, I purpose to write ;
as likewise to his majesty, for whose health and
happiness, as his true beadsman, I most frequently
pray.
Endorsed, March 11.
Copy of my answer to Lord Falkland.
TO. THE LORD TREASURER.*
My very good Lord,
1 have received, by my noble friend, my Lord
Viscount Falkland, advertisement, as from my
lord marquis, of three things ; the one, that upon
his lordship's motion to his majesty, he is gra
ciously pleased to grant some degree of release of
my confinement. The second, that if I shall
gratify your lordship, who, my lord understandeth,
are desirous to treat with me about my house at
London, with the same, his lordship will take it
as well as if it was done to himself. The third,
that his majesty hath referred unto your lordship
the consideration of the relief of my poor estate.
I have it also from other part, yet by such, as have
taken it immediately from my lord marquis, that
your lordship hath done me to the king very good
oflices. My lord, I am much bounden to you :
wherefore, if you shall be pleased to send Sir
Arthur Ingram, who formerly moved me in it for
your lordsliip, to treat farther with me, I shall
let your lordship see how affectionately I am
desirous to pleasure your lordship after my Lord
of Buckingham.
So, wishing your lordship's weighty affairs, for
his majesty's service, a happy return to his ma-
jesty's contentment and your honour, I rest
Your lordship's very affectionate
to do you service,
Fr. St. Alban.
Endorsed, March 12,
To the Lord Treasurer.
TO THE LORD TREASURER.
My very good Lord,
The honourable correspondence, which your
lordship hath been pleased to hold with Riy noble
and constant friend, my lord marquis, in further-
ing his majesty's grace towards me, as well con-
cerning my liberty as the consideration of my
poor estate, hath very much obliged me to your
lordship, the more by how much the less likeli-
hood there is, that I shall be able to merit it at
* Lionel, lord Cranfield.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
1J3
your lordship's hands. Yet, thus much I am
glad of, tirat this course, your lordship holds with
me,, doth carry this much upon itself, that the
world snail see in this, amongst other things, that
you have a great and noble heart.
For the particular business of York House, Sir
Arthur Ingram can bear me witness, that 1 was
ready to leave the conditions to your lordship's
own making: but since he tells me plainly, that
your lordship will by no means have to be so,
you will give me leave to refer it to Sir Arthur
Ingram, who is so much your lordship's servant,
and no less faithful friend to me, and understands
value well, to set a price between us.
For the reference his majesty hath been gra-
ciously pleased, at my lord marquis's suit, to make
unto your lordship, touching the relief of my poor
estate,* which my Lord of Falkland's letter hath
signified, warranting me likewise to address my-
self to your lordship touching the same ; I humHy
pray your lordship to give it despatch, my age,
health, and fortunes, making time to me therein
precious. Wherefore, if your lordship (who
knoweth best what the king may best do) have
thought of any particular, I would desire to
know from your lordship: otherwise I have
fallen myself upon a particular, which I have
related to Sir Arthur, and, I hope, will seem mo-
dest, for my help to live and subsist. As for
somewhat towards the paying off my debts, w^hich
are now my chief care, and without charge of the
king's cotfers, I will not now trouble your lord-
ship; but purposing to be at Chiswick, where I
have taken a house, within this sevennight, I hope
to wait upon your lordship, and to gather some
violets in your garden, and will then impart unto
you, if I have thought of any thing of that nature
for my good.
So, 1 ever rest, etc.
THOMAS MEAUTYS, ESQ., TO THE LORD VISCOUNT
ST ALBAN.
May it please your Lordship,
I have been attending upon my lord marquis's
minutes for the signing of the warrant. This
day he purposed in earnest to have done it; but
it falls out untowardly, for the warrant was drawn,
as your lordship remembers, in haste at Gorham-
bury, and in as much haste delivered to Sir Ed-
ward Sackville, as soon as I alighted from my
horse, who instantly put it into my lord marquis's
hands, so that no copy could possibly be taken
of it by me. Now his lordship hath searched
much for it, and is yet at a loss, whi'-h I knew
not till six this evening: and because your lord-
* The Lord Viscount St. Alban, in a letter to the king,
finiM Gorhanihury, 20th of March, 1G21-2, thanks his majesty
for rtfci-ring thr consideration of his broken estate to his good
U'ld, the lord treasurer.
ship drew it with caution, I dare not vmturrt 't
upon my memory to carry level what your lorJ-
ship wrote, and, therefore, despatched away thi;<
messenger, that so your lordship, by a fresh post,
(for this may hardly do it,) may send a warrant
to your mind, ready drawn, to be here to-morrow
by seven o'clock, as Sir Arthur* tells me my lord
marquis hath directed : for the king goes early to
Hampton Court, and will be here on Saturday.
Your booksl are ready, and passing well bound
up. If your lordship's letters to the king, prince,
and my lord marquis were ready, I think it were
good to lose no time in their delivery ; for the
printer's fingers itch to be selling.
My lady hath seen the house at Chiswick, and
they make a shift to like it : only she means to
come to your lordship thither, and not to go first:
and, therefore, your lordship may please to make
the more haste, for the great lords long to be in
York House.
Mr. Johnson will be with your lordship to*
morrow ; and then I shall write the rest.
Your lordship's in all humbleness
and honour to serve you.
TO THOMAS MEAUTYS, ESQ.
Good Mr. INIeautys,
For the difTerence of the warrant, it is not
material at the first. But I may not stir till I
have it; and, therefore, I expect it to-morrow.
For my Lord of London'st stay, there may be
an error in my book ;§ but I am sure there is none
in me, since the king had it three months by him,
and allowed it; if there be any thing to be
mended, it is better to be espied now than here-
after.
I send you the copies of the three letters, which
you have ; and, in mine own opinion, this demur,
as you term it, in my Lord of London, maketh it
more necessary than before, that they were deli-
vered, specially in regard they contain withal my
thanks. It may be signified they were sent before
I knew of any stay; and being but in those three
hands, they are private enough. But this I leave
merely at your discretion, resting
Your most affectionate and assured friend,
F'r. St. Alban
March 21, 1021.
TO MR. TOBIE MATTHEV/
Good Mr. Matthew,
I do make account, God willing, to be a«
Chiswick on Saturday ; or, because this weathe
is terrible to one that hath kept much in, Monday
• Ingram.
+ History of the reign of King Henrv VII.
t Dr. George Mountain.
{ His History of the reign of King Henrv v:i
144
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
in my letter of thanks to my lord marquis, i
which is not yet delivered, but to be forthwith j
delivered, I have not forgotten to mention, that I
have received signification of his noble favour and
affection, amongst other ways, from yourself, by
name. If, upon your repair to the court, (whereof
I am right glad,) you have any speech with the
marquis of me, I pray place the alphabet (as you
can do it right well) in a frame, to express my
love faithful and ardent towards him. And, for
York House, that whether in a straight line, or a
compass line, I meant it his lordship in the way
which I thought might please him best. I ever
rost
Your most affectionate and assured friend,
Fr. St. Alban.
March 21, 1021.
TO THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA.
It may please your Majesty,
I find in books (and books I dare allege to
your majesty, in regard of your singular ability to
read and judge of them even above your sex)
that it i.3 accounted a great bliss for a man to have
leisure with honour. .That was never my fortune,
nor is. For time was, I had honour without
leisure ; and now I have leisure without honour.
And I cannot say so neither altogether, consider-
ing there remain with me the marks and stamp
of the king's, your father's, grace, though I go
not tor so much in value as I have done. But my
desire is now to have leisure without loitering,
and not to become an abbey-lubber, as the old
proverb was, but to yield some fruit of rny private
life. Having therefore written the reign of your
majesty's famous ancestor. King Henry the Se-
venth; and it having passed the file of his
majesty's judgment, and been graciously also
accepted of the prince, your brother, to whom it
is dedicated, I could not forged my duty so far to
your excellent majesty, (to whom, for that I know
and have heard, I have been at all times so much
bound, as you are ever present with me, both in
affection and admiration,) as not to make unto
you, in all humbleness, a present thereof, as now
being not able to give you tribute of any service.
If King Henry the Seventh were alive again, I
hope verily he could not be so angry with me for
not flattering him, as well pleased in seeing him-
self so tiuly described in colours that will last,
and be believed. I most humbly pray your ma-
jesty graciously to accept of my good will ; and
80, with all reverence, kiss your hands, praying
to God above, by his divine and most benign pro-
vidence, to conduct your affairs to happy issue ;
and resting
Your majesty's most humble
and devoted servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
April 30, lOiKj
sir edward safkvillk, to the lord vis-
count st. alban
My very honoured Lord,
Longing to "yield an account of my steward-
ship, and that I had not buried your talent in the
ground, I waited yesterday the marquis's plea-
sure, until I found a fit opportunity to importune
some return of his lordsiiip's resolution. The
morning could not afford it; for time ordy allowed
leave to tell him, I would say something. In the
afternoon 1 had amends for all. In the forenoon
he laid the law, but in the afternoon he preached
the gospel ; when, after some revivations of the
old distaste concerning York House, he most
nobly opened his heart unto me, wherein I read
that which argued much good towards you.
After which revelation, the book was again
sealed up, and must, in his own time, only by
himself be again manifested unto you. I have
leave to remember some of the vision, and am
not forbidden to write it. He vowed, not court-
like, but constantly, to appear your friend so
much, as, if his majesty should abandon the care
of you, you should share his fortune with him.
He pleased to tell me, how much he had been
beholden to you; how well he loved you; how
unkindly he took the denial of your house, (for so
he will needs understand it.) But the close, for
all this, was harmonious, since he protested he
would seriously begin to study your ends, now
that the world should see he had no ends on you.
He is in hand with the work, and therefore will,
by no means, accept of your offer; though I can
assure you, the tender hath much won upon him,
and mellowed his heart towards you ; and your
genius directed you right, when you wrote that
letter of denial unto the duke.* The king saw it;
and all the rest; which made him say unto the
marquis, you played an after game well ; and that
now he had no reason to be much offended.
I have already talked of the revelation, and now
am to speak in apocalyptical language, which I
hope you wnll rightly comment; whereof, if you
make difficulty, the bearerf can help you v/ith the
key of the cipher.
My Lord P'alkland, by this time, hath showed
you London from Highgate. If York House
were gone, the town were yours; and all your
straitest shackles cleared off, besides more com-
fort than the city air only. The marquis would
be exceedingly glad the treasurer had it. This I
know ; but this you must not know from me.
Bargain with him presently, upon as good condi-
tions as you can procure, so you have direct mo-
tion from the marquis to let him have it. ^eera
not to dive into the secret of it; though yi u are
purblind if 3'ou see not through it. I have told
Mr. Meautys, how I would wish your lordship to
make an end of it. From him, I beseech you.
* Of Lenox, of the 30lh of January, 1621-2.
•t Probably Mr. Meautys.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
145
take it, and from me only the advice to perform
it. If you part not speedily witli it, you may
defer the good, which is ap|)roaching near you,
and disappointing other aims, (which must either
shortly receive content, or i.ever,) perhaps anew
yield matter of discontent, though you may be
indeed as innocent as before. Make the treasurer
believe, tliat since the marquis will by no means
accept of it, and that you must part with it, you
are more willing to pleasure him than anybody
else, because you are given to understand my
lord marquis so inclines ; which inclination, if the
treasurer shortly send unto you about it, desire
may be more clearly manifested, than as yet it
hath been; since, as I remember, none hitherto
hath told you in terminis tcrminantibus, that the
marquis desires you should gratify the treasurer.
I know that way the hare runs ; and that my lord
marquis longs until Cranfield hath it ; and so I
wish too, for your good, yet would not it were
absolutely passed, until my lord marquis did send,
or write, unto you, to let him have it ; for then,
his so disposing of it were but the next degree
removed from the nnmediate acceptance of it, and
your lordship freed from doing it otherwise than
to please him, and to comply with his own will
and way.
I have no more to say, but that I am, and ever
will be
Your lordship's most affectionate friend
and humble servant,
E. Sackville.
Endorsed,
Received the lUh of May, 1622.
TO THE LORD KEEPER, DR. WILLIAMS, BISHOP OF
LINCOLN.
My very good Lord,
I understand there is an extent prayed against
me, and a surety of mine, by the executors of one
Harrys, a goldsmith. The statute is twelve
years old, and falleth to an executor, or an execu-
tor of an executor, I know not whether. And it
was sure a statute collected out of a shop-debt,
and much of it paid. I humbly pray your lord-
ship, according to justice and equity, to stay the
extent, being likewise upon a double penalty,
till I may better inform myself touching a mat-
ter so lf)ng past; and, if it be requisite, put in
a bill, that the truth of the account appearing,
such satisfaction may be made as shall be fit. So
I rest
Vour lordship's affectionate
to do you faithful service,
Fr. St. Alban.
May 30, 1622.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My vkrv good Lord,
1 thought it appertained to my duty, both as
Vol. HL— 19
a subject and as he that took once the oath of
counsellor, to make known to your lordship an
advertisement which came to me tliis morning.
A gentleman, a dear friend of mine, whom your
lordship cannot but imagine, though 1 name him
not, told me thus much, that some English priests
that negotiated at Rome to facilitate the dispensa-
tion, did their own business, (that was his phrase ;)
for they negotiated with the pope to erect some
titulary bishops for England, that might ordain,
and have other spiritual faculties ; saying withal
most honestly, that he thought himself bound to
impart this to some counsellor, both as a loyal
subject, and as a Catholic ; for that he doubted it
might be a cause to cross the graces and mercies
which the Catholics now enjoy, if it be not pre-
vented : and he asked my advice, whether he
should make it known to your lordship, or to my
lord keeper,* when he came back to London. I
commended his loyalty and discretion, and wished
him to address himself to your lordship, who
might communicate it with niy lord keeper, if you
saw cause, and that he repaired to your lordship
presently, which he resolved to do. Nevertheless,
I did not think mine own particular duty acquitted,
except I certified it also myself, borrowing so
much of private friendship in a cause of state, as
not to tell him I would do so much.
Endorsed,
My letter to my lord marquis, touching the husinesM
of estate advertised by Mr. Matthew.'\
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN.
My MOST HONOURED LoRD,
I come in these to your lordship with the voice
of thanksgiving for the continuance of your ac-
customed noble care of me and my good, which
overtakes me, I find, whithersoever I go. But
for the present itself, (whereof your lordship
writes,) whether or no it be better tl.an that I was
wont to bring your lordship, the ex\A only can
prove. For I have yet no more to show for it than
good words, of which many times I brought your
lordship good store. But because modi ccfid cans
were not made to thrive in court, I mean to lose
no time from assailing my lord marquis, for which
purpose I am now hovering about New-hall,:|:
where his lordship is expected (but not the king)
this day, or to-morrow : which place, as your
* Dr. Wi'iliains, Bishop of Lincoln.
t The date of this letter may be pretty nearly ileterminpii
by one of the lord keeper to the Marquis of Buckinahum,
dated August 23, 1622, and printed in the CabaJa. The post,
script to that letter is as follows : " The Spanish anihassadni
took the alarm very speedily of the titulary Roman bishop >
and before my departure from his house at Islington, whithei
I went privately to him, did write both to Rome and Spam to
prevent it. But I am afraid that Tobie will prove but an
apocryphal, and no canonical, intellisencer, acquainting the
state with this project for the Jesuits' rather than for Je«iu»»
sake."
X In E8se.x.
N
146
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
lordship adviseth, may not be ill cliosen for my
business. For, if his lordship be not very thick
of hearing, sure New-hall will be heard to speak
for me.
And now, my good lord, if any thing make me
diffident, or indeed almost indifferent how it suc-
ceeds, it is this ; that my sole ambition having
ever been, and still is, to grow up only under
your lordship, it is become preposterous, even to
my nature and habit, to think of prospering, or
receiving any growth, either without or besides
your lordship. And, therefore, let me claim of
your lordship to do me this right, as to believe
that which my heart says, or rather swears to me,
namely, that what addition soever, by God's good
providence, comes at any time to my life or for-
tune, it is, in my account, but to enable me the
more to serve your lordship in both ; at whose
feet I shall ever humbly lay down all that I have,
or am, never to rise thence other than
Your lordship's in all duty
and reverent affections,
T. Meautvs.
September 11, 1622.
memorial to my lord treasurer : that your lordship
offered, and received, and presented my petition
to the king, and procured me a reference : that
your lordship moved his majesty, and obtained
i for me access to him, against his majesty comes
next, which, in mine own opinion, is better than
if it had been now, and will be a great comfort to
I me, though I should die next day after : that your
lordship gave me so good English for my Latin
! book. My humble request is, at this time, that
because my lord treasurer keepeth yet his answer
in suspense, (though by one he useth to me, he
speaketh me fair,) that your lordship would nick
it with a word : for if he do me good, I doubt it
may not be altogether of his own. God ever
prosper you.
Your lordship's most bounden
and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
4th of November, 1C22.
TO THE COUNTESS OF BUCKINGHAM,* MOTHER
TO THE MARUUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
Mv VERY HONOURABLE GOOD LaDY,
Your ladyship's late favour and noble usage
towards me were such, as I think your absence a
great part of my misfortunes. And the more I
find my most noble lord, your son, to increase in
favour towards me, the more out of my love to
him, I wish he had often by him so loving and
wise a mother. For if my lord were never so
wise, as wise as Solomon ; yet, I find, that Solo-
mon himself, in the end of his Proverbs, sets
down a whole chapter of advices that his mother
taught him.
Madam, I can but receive your remembrance
with affection, and use your name with honour,
and intend you my best service, if I be able, ever
resting
Your ladyship's humble
and affectionate servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
Bedford House, this 29tli of October, 1622.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I have many things to thank your lordship for,
since I had the happiness to see you ; that your
[ordship, before your going out of town, sent my
* Mary, daiiEhter of Anthony Beaumont, a youneer son of
William Beaumiml of Colo-Orton, in Leicestershire. She
was thrice married : 1, to Sir George Villiers, father of the
Duke of Buckingham; 2, to Sir William Rayner; and, 3, to
Hir Thomas Coiupton, Knipht of the Biith, a younger brother
Tt William, Earl of Northampton. She was created Countess
',f Buckingham, July 1, 16'8; and died April 19, 1632.
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN.
My most honoured Lord,
Since my last to your lordship, I find by Mr.
.Johnson, that my lord treasurer is not twice in
one mind, or Sir Arthur Ingram not twice in one
tale. For, Sir Arthur, contrary to his speech but
yesterday with me, puts himself now, as it seems,
in new hopes to prevail with my lord treasurer for
your lordship's good and advantage, by a proposi-
tion sent by Mr. Johnson, for the altering of your
patent to a new mould, more safe than the other,
which he seemed to dissuade, as I wrote to your
lordship. I like my lord treasurer's h^art to your
lordship, so much every day worse than other,
especially for his coarse usage of your lordship's
name in his last speech, as that I cannot imagine
he means you any good. And, therefore, good
my lord, what directions you shall give herein to
Sir Arthur Ingram, let them be as safe ones as you
can think upon ; and that your lordship surrender
not your old patent, till you have the new under
seal, lest my lord keeper should take toy, and
stop it there. And I know your lordship cannot
forget they have such a savage word among them
?iS fleecing. God in heaven bless your lordship
from such hands and tongues ; and then things
will mend of themselves.
Your lordship's, in all humbleness,
to honour and serve you,
T. Meautys.
This Sunday morning.
Endorsed— 25th of November, 1622.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I find my lord treasurer, after so many days and
appointments, and such certain messages and pr-v
LE'lTERS FROM BIRCH.
147
mises, doth buf. mean to coax me, (it is his own
word of old,) and to saw me asunder, and to do
just nothinnr upon his majesty's (rracious reference,
nobly procured by your lordship for this poor rem-
nant. My lord, let it be your own deed; and to
use the prayers of the litany, good Lord, deliver
me from this servile dependence ; for 1 had rather
beg and starve, than be fed at that door. God
ever prosper your lordship.
Your lordship's most bounden
and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
Bedford House, this
Endorsed,
To Buckingham, about Lord Treasurer CranfieWs
using of him.
to the marquis of buckingham.
Excellent Lord,
I perceive tiiis day by Mr. Comptroller,* that
I live continually in your lordship's remembrance
and noble purposes concerning my fortunes, as
well for the comfort of my estate, as for counte-
nancing me otherwise by his majesty's employ-
ments and graces ; for which I most humbly kiss
your hands, leaving the times to your good lord-
ship; which, considering my age and wants, I
assure myself your lordship will the sooner take
into your care. And for my house at Gorhambury,
I do infinitely desire your lordship should have it;
and howsoever I may treat, I will conclude with
none, till I know your lordship's farther pleasure,
ever resting
Your lordship's obliged
and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
Bedford House, this 5th of Feb. 1622.t
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN.
My vfcRY GOOD Lord,
1 have received by this bearer, the privy seal
for the survey of coals, which I will lay aside,
until I shall hear farther from my Lord Steward,:^
and the rest of the lords.
I am ready to do as much as your lordship
desireth, in keeping Mr. Cotton§ off from the
violence of those creditors: only himself is, as
yet, wanting in some particular directions.
I heartily thank your lordship for your book;
and all other symbols of your love and affection,
• Henry Cary, Viscount Falkland.
+ Two days licfore, the Marquis of Bucitingham set out
privately witli the prince, for Spain.
J Duke of Leno.t.
{ Probably the surety of Lord Bacon for the debt to Harrys
the goldsmith, mentioned in his lordship's letter of May 30,
which I will endeavour, upon all opportunities,
to deserve : and in the mean time do rest
Your lordship's assured faithful
poor friend and servant,
Jo. Lincoln, C. S.
Westminster College, this 7th of Feb., 1622.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
Excellent Lord,
Though your lordship's absence* fall out in an
ill time for myself; yet, because I hope in God
this noble adventure will make your lordship a
rich return in honour, abroad and at liome, ana
chiefly in the inestimable treasure of the love and
trust of that thrice-excellent prince ; I confess I
am so glad of it, as I could not abstain from your
lordship's trouble in seeing it expressed by these
few and hasty lines.
I beseech your lordship, of your nobleness
vouchsafe to present my most humble duty to his
highness, who, I hope, ere long wiM make me
leave King Henry the Eighth, and set me on
work in relation of his highness's adventures.
I very humbly kiss your lordship's hands,
resting ever
Your lordship's most obliged
friena and servant.
February 21,1622.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM
Excellent Lord,
Upon the repair of my Lord of Rochford unvo
your lordship, whom I have ever known so fas'
and true a friend and servant unto you ; and who
knows likewise so much of my mind and afiection
towards your lordship, I could not but kiss your
lordship's hands, by the duty of these few lines.
My lord, I hope in God, that this your noble
adventure will make you a rich return, especially
in the inestimable treasure of the love and trust of
that twice-excellent prince. And although, to a
man that loves your lordship so dearly as I do,
and knows somewhat of the world, it cannot be,
but that in my thoughts there should arise many
fears, or shadows of fears, concerning so rare an
accident; yet, nevertheless, I believe well, that
this your lordship's absence will rather be a glass
unto you, to show you many things, whereof you
may make use hereafter, than otherwise any hurt
or hazard to your fortunes ; which God grant. For
myself, I am but a man desolate till your return,
and have taken a course accordingly. Vouchsafe,
of your nobleness, to remember my most humblo
duty to his highness. And so God, and his hciy
angels guard you, both going and coming.
Endorsed— March 10, 1622.
• In Si)«in.
148
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
TO SIR FRANCIS COTTINGTON, SECRETARY TO
THE PRINCE.
(tood Mb. Secretary,
Though 1 wrote so lately unto you, by my Lord
Rochford ; yet, upon the going of my Lord Vaugh-
an,* the prince's worthy and trusty servant, and
my approved friend, and your so near ally, I
could not but put this letter into his hand, com-
mending myself and my fortunes unto you. You
know the difference of obliging men in prosperity
and adversity, as much as the sowing upon a
pavement and upon a furrow new made. Myself
for quiet, and the better to hold out, am retired to
Gray's Inn:]" for when my chief friends were
gone so far off", it was time for me to go to a cell.
God send us a good return of you all.
I ever rest, &c.
My humble service to my lord marquis, to
'^(/hom I have written twice. I would not cloy
him. My service also to the Count Gondomar,
and Lord of Bristol.
Endorsed,
To Mr. Secretary, Sir Francis Cottington, March
22, 1622.
TO THE KING.
It may please your Majesty,
Now that my friend is absent, (for sol may call
him still, since your majesty, when I waited on
you, told me, that fortune made no difference,)
your majesty remaineth to me king, and master,
and friend, and all. Your beadsman therefore
addresseth himself to your majesty for a cell to
retire into. The particular I have expressed to
my very friend, Mr. Secretary Conway. This
help, which costs your majesty nothing, may
reserve me to do your majesty service, without
neing chargeable unto you ; for I will never deny
but my desire to serve your majesty is of the
nature of the heart, that will be ultimum moriens
with me.
God preserve your majesty, and send you a
good return of the treasure abroad, which passeth
all Indian fleets.
Your majesty's most humble
and devoted servant,
March 25, 1623. Fr. St. Alban.
Endorsed,
To the king, touching the Provostshtp of Eton.X
• He was son and heir of Walter Vaughan, of Golden
Grove, in Caermarthenshire, Esq. ; and was created Lord
Vaughan, in thft year 1620. The Lord St. Alban, after he
was delivered from his confinement in the Tower, was per-
mitted to stay at Sir John Vaughan's house, at Parson's
Green, near Ftilham.
+ In a MS. letter of Mr. Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carle-
ion, dated at London, March 8, 1622-3, is the following pas-
lage : "The Lord of Si. Alban is in his old remitter, and
r.jmetolie in his old lodgings in Gray's Inn; which is the
fulfilling of a prophecy of one Locke, a familiar of his, of the
•ame house, that knew him intus a in cute: who, seeing him
yo thence in pomp, with the great seal before him, said to
divers of his friends, we shall live to have him here again."
X Mr. Thomas Murray, the provost of that college, having
been cut C •■ the stone, died April 1, 1023.
to mr. secretary conway.
Good Mr. Secretary,
When you did me the honour and f\ivour to
visit me, you did not only in general terms express
your love unto me, but, as a real friend, asked
me whether I had any particular occasion, where-
in I might make use of you ? At that time I had
none : now there is one fallen. It is, that Mr.
Thomas Murray, Provost of Eton, (whom I love
very well,) is like to die. It were a pretty cell
for my fortune. The college and school, I do not
doubt, but I shall make to flourish. His majesty,
when I waited on him, took notice of my wants,
and said to me, that, as he was a king, he would
have care of me: this is a thing somebody would
have, and costs his majesty nothing. I have
written two or three words to his majesty, which
I would pray you to deliver. I have not expressed
this particular to his majesty, but referred it to
your relation. My most noble friend, the mar-
quis, is now absent. Next to hirn I could not
think of a better address than to yourself, as one
likest to put on his affection. I rest
Your honour's very afli'ectionate friend,
Fr. St. Alban.*
Gray's Inn, the 25th of March, 1623.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM, IN SPAIN.
Excellent Lord,
Finding so trusty a messenger as Sir John
Epsley, I thought it my duty to put these few
lines into his hands. I thank God, that thosfc
shadows, which either mine own melancholy, or
my extreme love to your lordship, did put into
my mind concerning this voyage of the prince and
your lordship, rather vanish and diminish than
otherwise. The gross fear is past of the passage
of France. I think you had the ring which they
write of, that, when the seal was turned to the
palm of the hand, made men go invisible.
Neither do I hear of any novelty here worth the
esteeming.
There is a general opinion here that your lord-
ship is like enough to return, and go again, before
the prince come: which opinion, whether the
business lead you to do so, or no, doth no hurt ,•
for it keeps men in awe.
I find, I thank God, some glimmering of the-
* To this letter Secretary Conway wrote an answer, ac
quainting the Lord Viscount St. Alban, that the king could
not value his lordship so little, or conceive that he limited
his desires so low; in which, however, he should have been
gratified, had not the king been engaged, by the Marquis of
Buckingham, for Sir William Becher, his agent in France. —
See J3ccovni of the Life if Lord Bacon, p. 26, prefixed to the
edition of his Letters, Memoirs, &c., by Robert Stephens, Esq.
The Duke of Buckingham himself, likewise, after his return
from Spain, in a letter to the Lord Viscount St. Alban, dated
at Hinchinbrook, October 27, 1623, expresses his concern that
he could do his lordship no service in that afl'air, " having
engaged myself," says he, "to Sir William Becher, before
my going into Spain; so that I cannot free myself, unleaf
there were means to give him satisfaction."
LETTKIIS FROM BIRCH.
149
kinor's tavour, whic.- your lordship's noble work
ol my access, no doubt, did chiefly cherish. 1 am
iiiuc.h bound to Mr. Secretary Conway. It is
V holly for your lordship's sake, for 1 had no
acquaintance with him in the world. By that I
see of him, he is a man fit to serve a great king,
and fit to be a friend and servant to your lordship.
Good uiy lord, write two or three words to him,
both of thanks, and a general recommendation of
me unto him.
Vouchsafe, of your nobleness, to present my
most humble duty to his highness. We hear he
is fresh in his person, and becomes this brave
journey in all things. God provide all things for
(he best.
I ever rest, &c.
Endorsed— March 30, 1623.
TO MR. SECRETARY CONWAY.
Good Mr. Secretarv,
I am much comforted by your last letter,
wherein I find that his majesty, of his mere grace
and goodness, vouchsafeth to have a care of me,
a man out of sight, out of use; but yet his, as the
Scripture saith, God knows those that are his.
In particular, I am very much bound to his ma-
jesty (and I pray you, sir, thank his majesty most
humbly for it) that, notwithstanding the former
designment of Sir William Becher,* his majesty
(as you write) is not out of hope, in due time, to
accommodate me of this cell, and to satisfy him
otherwise. Many conditions, no doubt, may be
as contenting to that gentleman, and his years
may expect them. But there will hardly fall,
especially in the spent hourglass of my life, any
tning so fit for me, being a retreat to a place of
study so near London, and where (if I sell my
house at Gorhambury, as I purpose to do, to put
myself in some convenient plenty) I may be
accommodated of a dwelling for summer time.
And, therefore, good Mr. Secretary, further this
his majesty's good intention, by all means, if the
place fall.
For yourself, you have obliged me much. I
will endeavour to deserve it: at least your noble-
ness is never lost ; and my noble friend, the mar-
quis, I know, will thank you for it.
* Sir William had not, however, that post, but, in lieu of
it, the promise of two thousand five hundred pounds,
upon the fall of the first of the six clerks' places, and was
permitted to keep his clerkship of the council. — MS. Letter of
Mr. Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carlcton, dated at London,
July 21, 1621. The provostship was given to Sir Henry
Wotton, who was instituted into it the 20th of that month,
having purchased it hy a surrender of a grant of the reversion
of the mastership of the rolls, and of another office, which
was fit to be turned into present money, which he then, and
afterwards, much wanted : [Life of him by Mr. Isaac IValton :]
for, when he went to the election at Eton, soon after his
being made provost, he was so ill provided, that the fellows
of the college were obliged to furnish his bare walls, and
whatever else was wanting.— JtfS. Letter of Mr. Chamberlain,
Au.fr. 7, 1624.
I was looking of some shoit papers of mine
touching usury,* to grind the teeth of it, and yet
make it grind to his majesty''s mill in good sort,
without discontentment or perturbation. If you
think good, I will send it to his majesty, as the
fruit of my leisure. But yet, I would not have
it come from me, not for any tenderness in the
thing, but because I know, in couits of princes,
it is usual, nonrcs, sed dtxplicet aucior. God keep
your honour, &c.
Endorsed,
To Mr. Secretary Conway, touching the ■p^-ovostship
of Eton, March 31, 1G23.
TO THE EARL OF BRISTOL, AMBASSAOCR IN
SPAIN.
My very good Lord,
Though I have written to your lordship htely,
yet I could not omit to put a letter into so good a
hand as Mr. Matthew's, being one that hath often
made known unto me how much I am beholden
to your lordship; and knoweth, likewise, in what
estimation I have ever had your lordship, not ac-
cording to your fortunes, but according to your
inward value. Therefore, not to hold your lord-
ship in this time of so great business, and where
I have so good a mean as Mr. Matthew, who, if
there be any thing that concerns my fortune,
can better express it than myself, I humbly com-
mend myself, and my service to your lordship,
resting, &c.
to sir francis cottington, secretary to
the prince.
Good Mr. Secretary,
Though I think I have cloyed you with letters,
yet, had I written a thousand before, I must add
one more by the hands of Mr. Matthew, being as
true a friend as any you or I have ; and one that
made me so happy, as to have the assurance of
our friendship; which, if there be any stirring for
my good, I pray practise in so good a conjunction
as his. I ever rest, &c.
TO MR. TOBIE MATTHEW.
Good Mr. Matthew,
Because INIr. Clarke is the first that hath been
sent since your departure, who gave me also thtj
comfortable news, that he met you well, 1 could
not but visit you with my letters, who have so
often visited me with your kind conferences.
My health, I thank God, is better than when
you left me; and, to my thinking, better than be-
♦ In his v.'orks is published, A Drautrht of an Act a^»j>t»4
an usurious Shift of Gain in delivering- of Commodities tnscmd
of Money.
150
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
fore my last sickness. This is all I need to write
of myself to sucli a friend.
We hope well, and it is generally rather spoken
than believed, that his highness will return very
speedily. But they be not the best pieces in
painting that are dashed out in haste. I hope, if
any thing want in the speed of time, it will be
compensed in the fruit of time, that all. may sort
to the best.
I have written a few words, of duty and respect
only, to my lord marquis, and Mr. Secretary. I
pray you kiss the Count of Gondomar's hand.
God keep you.
Your most affectionate and
assured friend,
Fr. St. Alban.
May 2, 1623.
to the duke of buckingham.
Excellent Lord,
I write now only to congratulate with your
_ grace your new honour ;* which, because I reckon
to be no great matter to your fortune, (though you
are the first English duke that hath been created
since I was born,) my compliment shall be the
shorter. So, having turned almost my hopes of
your grace's return by July, into wishes, and not
to them neither, if it should be any hazard to
your health, I rest, &c.
Vouchsafe, of your nobleness, to present my
most humble duty to his highness. Summer is
a thirsty time ; and sure I am, I shall infinitely
thirst to see his highness's and your grace's
return.
his person ; and shall ever be ready to do yon, in
all things, the best service that I can.
So, wishing your lordship much happiness, 1
rest Your lordship's faithful friend,
and humble servant,
G. Buckingham.
Madrid, this 29th of
May, 1023, st. vet.
DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM TO THE LORD VISCOUNT
ST. ALBAN.
My good Lord,
I have received your hearty congratulation for
the great honour, and gracious favour which his
majesty hath done me : and I do well believe, that
no man is more glad of it than yourself.
Tobie Matthew is here ; but what with the
journey, and what with the affliction he endures,
to find, as he says, that reason prevails nothing
with these people, he is grown extreme lean, and
looks as sharp as an eyas.f Only, he comforts
himself with a conceit, that he is now gotten on
the other side of the water, where the same reason
that is valuable in other parts of the world, is of
no validity here ; but rather something else, which
yet he hath not found out
I have let his highness see the good expressions j
'if your lordship's care, and faithful affection to |
• The title of duke, coiiierred on him May, 1623.
i A young hawk, just taken out of the nest.
TO THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, IN SPAIN.*
Excellent Lord,
I humbly thank your grace for your letter of
the 29th of May ; and that your grace doth believe
that no man is gladder of the increase of your
honour and fortune than I am ; as, on the other
part, no man should be more sorry, if it should
in the least degree decline, nor more careful, if it
should so much as labour. But, of the first, I
speak as of a thing that is : but, for the two latter,
it is but a case put, which I hope I shall never
see. And, to be plain with your grace, I am not
a little comforted to observe, that, although in
common sense and experience a man would have
doubted that some things might have sorted to
your prejudice; yet, in particulars we find nothing
of it. For, a man might reasonably have feared
that absence and discontinuance might have les-
sened his majesty's favour; no such thing has
followed. So, likewise, that any that might not
wish you well, should have been bolder with you.
But all is continued in good compass. Again,
who might not have feared, that your grace being
there to manage, in great part, the most important
business of P]urope, so far from the king, and not
strengthened with advice there, except that of the
prince himself, and thus to deal with so politic a
state as Spain, you should be able to go through
as you do 1 and yet nothing, as we hear, but for
your honour, and that you do your part. Surely,
my lord, though your virtues be great, yet these
things could not be, but that the blessing of God,
which is over the king and the prince, doth like-
wise descend upon you as a faithful servant; and
you are the more to be thankful to God for it.
I humbly thank your grace, that you make me
live in his highness's remembrance, whom I shall
ever bear a heart to honour and serve. And I
much joy to hear of the great and fair reputation
which at all hands are given him.
For Mr, Matthew, I hope by this time he hath
gathered up his crumbs ; which importeth much,
I assure your grace, if his cure must be, either by
finding better reason on that side the line, or by
discovering what is the motion, that moveth the
wheels, that, if reason do not, we must all pray
for his being in good point. But, in truth, my
" The Duke of Buckingham went to Spain, February.
1623, and returned in September.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
151
lord, I am glad he is there ; for I know his virtues,
und particularly his devotion to your lordship.
God return his hiirhness, and your grace, unto
us safe and sound, and according to your heart's
desirrt.
TO MR. TOBIE MATTHEW.
Good Mr. Matthew,
I have received your letter of the 10th of June,*
nnd am exceeding glad to hear you are in so good
health. For that which may concern myself, I
neither doubt of your judgment in choosing the
fittest time, nor of your affection in taking the
first time you shall find fit. For the public busi-
ness, I will not turn my hopes into wishes yet,
since you write as you do; and I am very glad
you are there, and, as I guess, you went in good
time to his lordship.
For your action of the case, it will fall to the
ground ; for I have not heard from the duke, nei-
ther by letter, nor message, at this time.
God keep you. I rest always
Your most affectionate and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
Gray's Inn, 17th of June, 1023.
I do hear, from Sir Robert Ker and others, how
much beholden I am to you.
mise for a compliment. But since you eall for it,
I shall perform it.*
1 am much beholden to Mr. Gage for many
expressions of his love to me ; and his company,
in itself very acceptable, is the more pleasing to
me, because it retaineth the memory of yourself.
This letter of yours, of the 26th, lay not so
long by you, but it hatli been as speedily answered
by me, so as with Sir Francis Cottington I have
had no speech since the receipt of it. Your for-
mer letters, which I received from Mr. Griesley,
I had answered before, and put ray letter into a
good hand.
For the great business, God conduct it well.
Mine own fortune hath taught me expectation.
God keep you.
Endorsed,
To Mr. 3htihew, into Spain
TO MR. TOBIE MATTHEW.
Goon Mr. Matthew,
I thank you for your letter of the 26th of June
and commend myself unto your friendship, know-
ing your word is good assurance, and thinking I
cannot wish myself a better wish, than that your
power may grow to your will.
Since you say the prince hath not forgot his
commandment, touching my history of Henry
VHI., I may not forget my duty. But I find Sir
Robert Cotton, who poured forth what he had, in
my other work, somewhat dainty of his materials
in this.
It is true, my labours are now most set to have
those works, which I had formerly published, as
that of advancement of Learning, that of Henry
VII., that of the Essays, being retractate, and made
more perfect, well translated into Latin by the
help of some good pens, which forsake me not.
For these modern languages will, at one time or
other, play the bankrupts with books ; and since
1 have lost much time with this age, 1 would bo
glad, as God shall give me leave, to recover it
with posterity.
For the essay of friendship, while I took yoiir
speech of it for a cursory request, I took my pro-
TO MR, TOBIE MATTHEW.
Good Mk. Matthew,
I have received your letter, sent by my Lord of
Andover; and, as I acknowledged your care, so I
cannot fit it with any thing, that I can think on
for myself; for, since Gondomar, who was my
voluntary friend, is in no credit, neither with the
prince, nor with the duke, I do not see what may
be done for me there; except that which Gon-
domar hath lost you have found: and then I am
sure my case is amended : so as, with a great
deal of confidence, I commend myself to you,
hoping, that you will do what in you lieth, to
prepare the prince and duke to think of me, upon
their return. And if you have any relation to the
infanta, I doubt not but it shall be also to my
use. God keep you.
Your most aflectionate and assured friend, etc.
TO THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
Excellent Lord,
Though I have formerly given your grace thanks
for your last letter, yet being much refreshed to
hear things go so well, whereby we hope to see
you here shortly, your errand done, and the prince
within the vail, I could not contain, but congratu-
late with your lordship, seeing good fortune, that
is God's blessing, still follow you. I hope I have
still place in your love and favour ; which if I have,
for other place, it shall hot trouble me. I ever rest
Your grace's most obliged and faithful servant.
July 22, 1C23.
TO THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
Excellent Lord,
Upon Mr. Clarke's despatch, in troth I was ill
in health, as he might partly perceive. There
♦ Amonff his Kssays, published in 4to, and dedicated to Ibe
Duke of Buckingham, is one upon Friendsuip
152
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
fore, I wrote to my true friend, and your grace's
devoted servant, Mr. Matthew, to excuse me to
y«)ur grace for not writing. Since, I thank God,
] am pretty well recovered ; for I have lain at two
wards, one against my disease, the other against
iny physicians, who are strange creatures.
My lord, it rejoiceth me much, that I under-
stand from Mr. Matthew, that 1 live in your
grace's remembrance ; and that I shall be the
first man that you will think on upon your return :
which, if your grace perform, I hope God Al-
mighty, who hath hitherto extraordinarily blessed
you in this rocky business, will bless you the
more for my sake. For I have had extraordinary
tokens of his divine favour towards me, both in
sickness and in health, prosperity and adversity.
Vouchsafe to present my most humble duty to
his highness, whose happy arrival will be a
bright morning to all.
I ever rest
Your grace's most obliged
and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
iSray's Inn, August 29, 1623.
TO MR TOBIE MATTHEW.
Good Mr. Matthew,
I have gotten a little health ; 1 praise God for
it. I have therefore now written to his grace,
that I formerly, upon Mr. Clarke's despatch,
desired you to excuse me for not writing, and
taken knowledge, that I have understood from
you, that I live in his grace's remembrance; and
that I shall be his first man that he will have care
of upon his return. And although your absence
be to me as uncomfortable to my mind, as God
may make it helpful to my fortunes ; yet, it is
somewhat supplied by the love, freedom, and
often visitations of Mr. Gage ; so as, when I have
him, I think I want you not altogether. God
keep you.
Your most affectionate
and much oblised friend, &:c.
MINUTES OF A LETTER TO THE DUKE OF BUCK-
INGHAM.
That I am exceeding glad his grace is come
home with so fair a reputation of a sound Pro-
testant, and so constant for the king's honour a
errand.
His grace is now to consider, that Kiss rpouta-
tion will vanish like a dream, except now, upon
his return, he do some remarkable act to fix it,
and bind it in.
They have a good wise proverb in the country
whence he cometh, taken, I think from a gentle-
woman's sampler, Qui en no da nudo, pier do
puniu, "he that tieth not a knot upon liis thread,
ioseth his stitch."
Any particular, I that live in darkness, cannot
propound. Let his grace, who setith clear, n)ake
his choice: but let some such thing be doifb, and
then this reputation will stick by him; and liis
grace may afterwards be at the better liberty to
take and leave off the future occasions that shall
present.
TO THE KING.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
I send, in all humbleness, to your mnjesty, the
poor fruits of my leisure. This book* was the
first thing that ever I presented to your majesty ; j-
and it may be will be last. For 1 had thought it
should have posthuma proles. But God hath
otherwise disposed for a while. It is a transla-
tion, but almost enlarged to a new work. I had
good helps for the language. I have been also
mine own index expurgaiorius, that it may be
read in all places. For since my end of putting
it into Latin was to have it read everywhere, it
had been an absurd contradiction to free it in the
language, and to pen it up in the matter. Your
majesty will vouchsafe graciously to receive these
poor sacrifices of him that shall ever desire to do
you honour while he breathes, and fulfilleth the
rest in prayers.
Your majesty's true beadsman
and most humble servant, &c.
T'odos duelos con pan son bucnos : iiaque del vestta
Maiestas obolum Bellisario.
TO THE PRINCE.
It may please your excellent Highness,
I send your highness, in all humbleness, my
book of Advancement of Learning, translated into
Latin, but so enlarged, as it may go for a new
work. It is a book, I think, will live, and be a
citizen of the world, as English books are not.
For Henry the Eighth, to deal truly with your
highness, I did so despair of my health this sum-
mer, as I was glad to choose some such Avork, as
I might compass within days ; so far was I from
entering into a work of length. Your highness's
return hath been my restorative. When I shall
wait upon your highness, I shall give you a
farther account. So, I most humbly kiss your
highness's hands, resting
Your hicrhness's most devoted servant.
* De Au^mentis Sdentiarum, printed at London, 1623, in
fol. The present to King James I. is in tlie royal library in
the British Museum.
+ The two hooks of Sir Francis Bacon of the Proficiency and
Advancement of Learning, Divine and Human : printed at Lon
don, 1605, in 4to.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
153
1 would (as I wrote to the duko in Spain) I
tould do your lii<rhness's journey any honour
with my pen. It began like a fable of the poets;
but it deserveth all in a piece a worthy narration.
TO THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
Excellent Loud,
I desire in this, which I now presume to write
to your grace, to be understood, that my bow car-
rieth not so high, as to aim to advise touching
any of the great affairs now on foot, and so to pass
it to his majesty through your hands; though it
be true, that my good affection towards his ma-
jesty and the prince and the public is that which
will last die in me; and though I think also his
majesty would take it but well, if, having been
that man I have been, my honest and loyal mind
should sometimes feed upon those thoughts. But
my level is no farther, but to do the part of a true
friend in advising yourself for your own greatness
and safety ; although, even in this also, I assure
myself I perform a good duly to the public ser-
vice, unto which I reckon your standing and power
to be a firm and sound pillar of support.
First, therefore, my lord, call to mind oft, and
consider duly, how infinitely your grace is bound
to God in this one point, which I find to be a
most rare piece, and wherein, either of ancient or
late times, there are few examples ; that is, that
you are beloved so dearly, both by the king and
the prince. You are not as a Lerma, or an
Olivares, and many others the like, who have
insinuated themselves into the favours of young
princes, during the kings', their fathers, time,
against the bent and inclination of the kings : but,
contrariwise, the king himself hath knit the knot
of trust and favour between the prince and your
grace^ wherein you are not so much to take com-
fort in that you may seem to have two lives in
your own greatness, as in this, that hereby you
are enabled to be a noble instrument for the ser-
vice, contentment, and heart's ease, both of father
and son. For where there is so loving and indul-
gent a father, and so respective and obedient a
son, and a faithful and worthy servant, interested
in both their favours upon all occasions, it cannot
be but a comfortable house. This point your
grace is principally to acknowledge and cherish.
Next, that, which I should have placed first,
save that the laying open of God's benefits is a
good preparation to religion and godliness, your
grace is to maintain j'ourself firm and constant
in the way you have begun; which is, in being
and showing yourself to be a true and sound Pro-
testant. This is your soul's health. This is
that you owe to God above, for his singular
favours: and this is that which hath brought
you into the good opinion and good will of the
realm in general. So that, as your case differeth
Vol. Ill— 20
(as I said) from the case of other favourites, in
that you have both king and prince; so in this,
that you have also now the hearts of the best
subjects, (for I do not love the word people,)
your case differeth from your own, as it stood
before. And because I would have your reputa-
tion in this point complete, let me advise you,
that the name of Puritans in a Papist's mouth, do
not make you to withdraw your favour from sucli
as are honest and religious men ; so that they be
not so turbulent anJ factious spirits, or adverse
to the government of the church, though they be
traduced by that name. For of this kind is the
greatest part of the body of the subjects; and,
besides, (which is not to be forgotten,) it is
safest for the king and his service, that such men
have their dependence upon your grace, who are
entirely the king's, rather tlian upon any other
subject.
For the Papists, it is not unknown to your
grace, that you are not, at this time, much in
their books. But be you like yourself; and far
be it from you, under a king and prince of that
clemency, to be inclined to rigour or persecution.
But three things must be looked unto : the first,
that they be suppressed in any insolency, which
may tend either to disquiet the civil estate, or
scandalize our church in fact, for, otherwise, all
their doctrine doth it in opinion. The second, that
there be an end, or limit, of those graces which
shall be thought fit for them, and that there be
not every day new demands hearkened to. The
third, that for those cases and graces, w^hich they
have received, or shall receive of the state, the
thanks go the right way ; that is, to the king and
prince, and not to any foreigner. For this is
certain, that if they acknowledge them from the
state, they may perhaps sit down when they are
well. But if they have a dependence upon
a foreigner, there will be no end of their growing
desires and hopes. And in this point also, your
lordship's wisdom and. moderation may do much
good.
For the match with Spain, it is too great and
dark a business for me to judge of. But as it hath
relation to concern yourself, I will, as in the rest,
deal freely with your grace.
My lord, you owe, in this matter, two debts tc
the king; the one, that, if in your conscience and
judgment you be persuaded it be dangerous and
prejudicial to him and his kingdoms, you deliver
' your soul, and in the freedom of a faithful coun-
1 sellor, joined with the humbleness of a dutiful
servant, you declare yourself accordingly, and
show your reasons. The other, that if the king
in his high judgment, or the prince in his settled
I affection, be resolved to have it go on ; that then
you move in their orb, as far as they shall lay it
upon you. But, meanwhile, let me tell your
grace, that I am not of the general opinion
abroad, that the match must break, cr else my
154
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
Lord of Buckingham's fortune must break. I
am of another opinion; and yet perhaps it will
be hard to make you believe it, because both
sides will persuade you to the contrary. For
they, that would not have it go on, will work
upon that conceit, to make you oppose it more
strongly. They that would have it go on, will
do the same, to make you take up betimes, and
come about. But I having good affiance in your
grace's judgment, will tell you my reasons, why
I thus think, and so leave it. If the match
should go on, and put case against your counsel
and opinion; doth any man think that so pro-
found a king, and so well seen in the science of
reigning, and so understanding a prince, will
ever suffer the whole sway of affairs and great-
ness to go that way] And if not, who should be
•A fitter person to keep the balance even than your
grace, whom the king and prince know to be so
entirely their own, and have found so nobly
independent upon any other 1 Surely my opinion
is, you are likely to be greater by counterpoise
against the Spanish dependence, than you wi^l by
concurrence. And, therefore, in God's name, do
your duty faithfully and wisely; for behaving
yourself well otherwise, as I know you will,
your fortune is like to be well either way.
For that excellent lady, whose fortune is so
distant from her merits and virtue, the Queen of
Bohemia, your grace being, as it were, the first-
born, or prime man of the king's creatures, must
in consequence owe the most to his children and
generations; whereof I know your noble heart
hath far greater sense than any man's words can
infuse into you. And, therefore, whatsoever
liveth within the compass of your duty, and of
possibility, will no doubt spring from you out of
that fountain.
It is open to every man's discourse, that there
are but two ways for the restitution of the palati-
nate, treaty and arms. It is good, therefore, to
consider of the middle acts, which may make
either of these ways desperate, to the end they
may be avoided in that way which siiall be
chosen. If no match, either this with Spain, or
perhaps some other with Austria, no restitution
by treaty. If the Dutch either be ruined, or grow
to a peace of themselves with Spain, no restitu-
tion by war.
But these things your grace understandeth far
better than myself. And, as I said before, the
points of state I aim not at farther, than they may
concern your grace, to whom, while I live, and
«:hall find it acceptable t you, I shall ever be
ready to give the tribute of a true friend and
servant, and shall always think my counsels
given you happy, if you shall pardon them
wtien they are free; and follow them when they
are good
God preserve and prosper you.
TO THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.*
Excellent Lord,
There is a suit, whereunto I may, as it wete,
claim kindred, aiid which may be of credit and
profit unto me ; and it is an old arrear wliich is
called upon, from Sir Nicolas Bacon, my eldest
brother. It may be worth to me perhaps two
thousand pounds; and yet I may deal kindly
with my brother, and also reward liberally (as 1
mean to do) the officers of the Exchequer, which
have brought it to light. Good my lord obtain it
of the king, and be earnest in it for me. It will
acquit the king somewhat of his promise, that he
would have care of my wants ; for hitherto, since
my misfortunes, I have tasted of his majesty's
mercy, but not of his bounty. But your lordship
may be pleased in this, to clear the coast with my
lord treasurer; else there it will have a stop. 1
am almost at last cast for means; and yet il
grieveth me most, that at such a time as this, 1
should not be rather serviceable to your grace,
than troublesome.
God preserve and prosper your grace.
Your grace's most obliged
and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
This 23d of January, 1023.
TO THE EARL OF OXFORD.f
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
Let me be an humble suitor to your lordship,
for your noble favour. I would be glad to receive
my writ this Parliament,:}: that I may not die in
dishonour; but by no means, except it should be
with the love and consent of my lords to readmit
me, if their lordships vouchsafe to think me
worthy of their company ; or if they think that
which I have suffered now these three years, in
loss of place, in loss of means, and in loss of
liberty for a great time, to be a sufficient expia-
tion for my faults, whereby I may now seem in
their eyes to be a fit subject of their grace, as 1
have been before of their justice. My good lord,
the good, which the commonwealth might reap
of my suffering, is already inned. .Tustice is
done; an example is made for reformation; the
authority of the House for judicature is establish-
ed. There can be no farther use of my misery;
perhaps some little may be of my service ; for, I
hope I shall be found a man humbled as a Chris-
tian, though not dejected as a worldling. I have
great opinion of your lordship's power, and great
hope, for many reasons, of your favour; which,
* The diikp's answer to this letter, dated at Newmarket,
the 2Sth of January, 1623, is printed in Lord Bacon's works.
+ Henry Vere, who died in 1625. He was Lord Great
Chamberlain of England.
t That met February 19, 1623, and was prorogued May !»
1624.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
155
if I rtay obtain, T can say no more, but nobleness
is ever requited in itself; and God, whose spe-
cial favour in my afflictions I have manifestly
found to my comfort, will, I trust, bo my pay-
master of that which cannot be requited by
Your lordship's alTecuonate
humble servant, &c.
Endorsed, February 2, 1623.
TO SIR FRANCIS BARNHAM.*
Good Cousin,
Upon a little searching, made touching the
patents of the survey of coals, I find matter not
only to acquit myself, but likewise to do myself
much right.
Any reference to me, or any certificate of mine,
I find not. Neither is it very likely I made any;
for that, when it came to the great seal, 1 stayed
it, I did not only stay it, but brought it before
the council table, as not willing to pass it, except
their lordships allowed it. The lords gave hear-
ing to the business, I remember, two several
days; and in the end disallowed it, and com-
mended my care and circumspection, and ordered,
that it should continue stayed ; and so it did all
my time.
About a twelvemonth since, my Lord Duke of
Lenox, now deceased, j- wrote to me to have the
privy seal ; which, though 1 respected his lord-
ship much, I refused to deliver to him, but was
content to put it into the right hand ; that is, to
send it to my lord keeper,:}: giving knowledge how
it had been stayed. My lord keeper received it
by mine own servant, writeth back to me, ac-
knowledging the receipt, and adding, that he
would lay it aside until his lordship heard farther
from my lord steward, § and the rest of the lords.
Whether this first privy seal went to the great
seal, or that it went about again, I know not :
but all my partis, that I have related. I ever rest
Your faithful friend and cousin,
Fr. St. Alban.
March 14, 1623.
TO THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
My Lord, — I am now full three years old in
misery ; neither hath there been any thing done
for me, whereby I might either die out of igno-
miny, or live out of want. But now, that your
grace (God's name be praised for it) hath re-
* Uo. appears to be a relation of his lordship's lady, who
was davightcr of Benedict Barnhani, Esq., alderman of the
city of London. Sir Francis was appointed, by his lord-
enip. one of the execntors of his last will.
+ He died suddenly, February 12, 1623-4.
t See his letter to Lord St. Alban, of February 7, 1622.
f James, Marquis of HamUton, who died March 2, 1621-5.
covered your health, and are come to the courl,
and the Parliament business hath also intermis-
sion, I firmly hope your grace will deal with his
majestjs that as I have tasted of his mercy, I may
also taste of his bounty. Your grace, I know,
for a business of a private man, cannot win your-
self more honour; and I hope I shall yet live to
do you service. For my fortune hath (I thank
God) made no alteration in my mind, but to the
better. I ever rest humbly
Your grace's most obliged
and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
If I may know by two or three words from
your grace, that you will set in for me, I will pro-
pound somewhat that shall be modest, and leave
it to your grace, whether you will move his ma-
jesty yourself, or recommend it by some of your
lordship's friends, that wish me well ; .j'as my
Lord of Arundel, or Secretary Conway, or Mr.
James Maxwell.*]
to the duke of buckingiia?!
Excellent Lord,
I understand by Sir John Suckling, that he at-
tended yesterday at Greenwich, hoping, accord-
ing to your grace's appointment, to hare found
you there, and to have received your grace's
pleasure touching my suit, but missed of you ;
and this day he sitteth upon the subsidy at Brent-
ford, and shall not be at court this week : wnich
causeth me to use these few lines to hear from
your grace, I hope, to my comfort ; humbly pray-
ing pardon, if I number thus the days, and that
misery should exceed modesty. I ever rest
Your grace's most faithful
and obliged servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
June 30, 1624.
TO SIR RICHARD WESTON, CHANCELLOR OF THIS
EXCHEQUER.
Mr. Chancellor, — This way, by Mr. Myn,
besides a number of little difficulties it hath,
amounteth to this, that I shall pay interest for
mine own money. Besides, I must confess, I
cannot bow my mind to bo a suitor, much less a
shifter, for that means which I enjoy by his ma-
I jesty's grace and bounty. And, therefore, I am
rather ashamed of that I have done, than minded
I to go forward. So that I leave it to yourself what
j you think fit to be done in your honour and my
j case, resting
j Your very loving friend,
I Fr. St. Alban
London, this 7th of July, 1624.
* The words included in brackets have a line drawn aftej
lUem.
156
LETTERS FROM EIRCH.
TO THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
Excellent Lord,
Now that your grace hath the king private, and
dt better leisure, the noise of soUliers, ambassa-
dors, parliaments, a little ceasing, I hope you
will remember your servant; for at so good a
lime,* and after so long a time, to forget him,
were almost to forsake him. But, howsoever, I
shall still remain
Your grace's most obliged and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
1 am bold to put into my good friend. Sir Tobie
IVatthew's hand, a copy of my petition, which
your gn ^ . hat' sent to Sir John Suckling.
Endorsed, August, 1624.
I near at hand, which f thought would have been
I a longer matter ; and I imagine there is a gratiasti-
tium till he come. I do not doubt but you shall
find his grace nobly disposed. The last time
that you spake with him about me, I remember
you sent me word, he thanked you for being so
forward for me. Yet, I could wish that you took
some occasion to speak with him, generally to
my advantage, before you move to him any parti-
cular suit; and to let me know how you find him.
My lord treasurer sent me a good answer touch-
ing my moneys. I pray you continue to quicken
him, that the king may once clear with me. And
fire of old wood needeth no blowing; but old
men do. I ever rest
Yours to do you service.
TO THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
Excellent Ljrd,
I am infinitely bound to your grace for your late
favours. I send your grace a copy of your letter,
signifying h^s majesty's pleasure, and of the
petition. The course, I take it, must be, to make
a warrant for the execution of the same, by way
of reference to Mr. Chancellor of the Exchequer,
and Mr. Attorney.-j" I most humbly pray your
fTrace likewise, to prostrate me at his majesty's
(eet, with most humble thanks for the grant of my
petition, whose sweet presence since I discon-
tinued, methinks, I am neither amongst the living,
nor amongst the dead.
I cannot but likewise gratulate his majesty on
the extreme prosperous success of his business,
since this time twelvemonth. I know I speak it
in a dangerous time ; because the die of the Low
Countries is upon the t^row. But yet that is all
one. For, if it should be a blow, (which I hope
in God it shall not^) yet it would have been ten
times worse, if former courses had not been taken.
But this is the raving of a hot ague.
God evermore bless his majesty's person and
designs, and likewise make your grace a spectacle
of prosperity, as you have hitherto been.
Your grace's most faithful and obliged,
and by you revived servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
Gray's Inn, 9th of October, 1024.
TO THE CHANCELLOR OF THE DUCHY,t SIR
HUMPHREY MAY.
Good Mr. Chancellor,
1 do approve very well your forbearance to
move my suits, in regard the duke's return§ is so
* This seems to refer to the anniversary thanksgiving day
fot the king's delivery from the Gowry conspiracy, on the
5th of August, 1600.
* Sir Thomas Coventry.
J This letter is endorsed 1625.
f From Paris, whither the Duke of Buckingham went in
May, 1625, to conduct the new queen to England.
TO SIR ROBERT PYE.
Good Sir Robert Pye,
Let me entreat you to despatch that warrant of
a petty sum, that it may help to bear my charge
of coming up* to London. The duke, you know,
loveth me, and my lord treasurer-)- standeth now
towards me in very good affection and respect,:}:
You, that are the third person in these businesses,
I assure myself, will not be wanting; for you
have professed and showed, ever since I lost tho
seal, your good will towards me. I rest
Your affectionate and assured friend, etc.
Endorsed,
To Sir Robert Pye. Gor. 1625.
to the earl of dorset.^
My very good Lord,
This gentleman, the bearer hereof, Mr. Colles
by name, is my neighbour. He is commended
for a civil young man. I think he wanteth no
metal, but he is peaceable. It was his hap to fall
out with Mr. Matthew Francis, sergeant at arms,
about a toy ; the one affirming, that a hare was
fair killed, and the other, foul. Words multiplied,
and some blows passed on either side. But since
the first falling out, the Serjeant hath used towards
hira diverse threats and affronts, and, which is a
point of dansjer, sent to him a letter of challenge:
bat Mr. Colles, doubting the contents of the
* From Gorhambury.
•f- Sir James, Lord Ley, advanced from the post of Lord
Chief Justice of the King's Bench, on the 20th of December)
1024, to that of lord treasurer; and created Earl of Marlbo-
rough on the 5th of February, 1625-6.
X His lordship had not been always in that disposition to-
wards the Lord Viscount St. Alban ; for the latter has, among
the letters printed in his works, one to this lord treasurer,
severely expostulating with him about his unkindness and
iiyustice.
§ Sir Edward Sackville succeeded to that title on the death
of his brother Richard, March 28, 1024.
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
157
letter, refused to receive it. Motio.is have been
made also of reconcilement, or of reference to
some trentlcmen of the country not partial : but
the Serjeant hath refused all, and now, at last,
sueth him in the Earl Marshal's Court. The
gentleman saith, he distrusteth not his cause upon
the hearing; but would be glad to avoid restraint,
or long and chargeable attendance. Let me, there-
fore, pray your good lordship to move the noble
earl* in that kind, to carry a favourable hand
towards him, such as may stand with justice and
the order of that court. I ever rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant.
Endorsed,
To E.Dorset. Gor. 1G25.
SIR THOMAS COVENTRY, ATTORNEY-GENERAL,
TO THE LORD VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN.
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
I received from your lordship two letters, the
one of the 23d, the other of the 28th of this month.
To the former, I do assure your lordship I have
not heard any thing of any suits or motion, either
touching the reversion of your honours or the rent
of your farm of petty writs; and, if I had heard
any thing thereof, I would not have been unmind-
ful of that caveat, which heretofore you gave in
by former letters, nor slack to do you the best ser-
vice I might.
The debt of Sir Nicolas Bacon resteth as it did ;
for in the latter end of King James's time, it
exhibited a quo warranto in the Exchequer, touch-
ing that liberty, against Sr. Nicolas, which abated
by his death ; then another against Sir Edmund,
which, by the demise of the king, and by reason
of the adjournment of the late term, hath had no
farther proceeding, but that day is given to plead.
Concerning your other letter, I humbly thank
your lordship for your favourable and good wishes
to me ; tliough L knowing my own unaptness to
80 great an employment,| should be most heartily
glad, if his majesty had, or yet would choose, a
man of more merit. But, if otherwise, humble-
ness and submission becomes the servant, and to
stand in that station where his majesty will have
him. But as for the request you make for your
servant, though I protest I am not yet engaged
by promise to any, because I hold it too much
boldness towards my master, and discourtesy
towards my lord keeper,:^: to dispose of places,
while he had the seal : yet, in respect I have
♦Arundel, Earl Marslial.
+ Bishnp Williamsi, who had resigned the preat seal on the
S5th of October, 1025, to Sir John Siickline, who broiicht his
majesty's warrant to receive it, dated at Salisbury, on the
23d of that month.
JThat of the great seal, of which Sir Thomas Coventry
was three days after Piade lord keeper, on the Ist of Noveni-
bpr. 1625.
some servants, and some of my kindred, apt fc«
the place you write of, and have been already so
much importuned by noble persons, when I lately
was witii his majesty at Salisbury, as it will be
hard to me to give them all denial; I am not able
to discern, how I can accommodate your servant;
though for your sake, and in respect of the former
knowledge myself have had of the merit and
worth of the gentleman, I should be most ready
and willing to perform your desire, if it were in
my power. And so, with remembrance of my
service to your lordship, I remain
At your lordship's commandment,
Fho. Coventry.
Kingsbury, Oct. 29, 1625.
To the right honourable, and my very good lordy
the Viscount St. Jllban.
TO MR. ROGER PALMER.
Good Mr. Roger Palmer,
I thank God, by means of the sweet air of the
country, I have obtained some degree of health.
Sending to the court, I thought I would salute
you : and I would be glad, in this solitary time
and place, to hear a little from you how the
world goeth, according to your friendly manner
heretofore.
Fare ye well most heartily.
Your very aifectionate and assured friend,
Fr. St. Alban.
Gorhambury, Oct. 29, 1625.
TO THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
Excellent Lord,
I could not but signify unto your grace my
rejoicing, that God hath sent your grace a son
and heir,* and that you are fortunate as well in
your Jiouse, as in t'.ie state of the kingdom.
These blessings come from God, as I do not
doubt but your grace doth, with all thankfulness,
acknowledge, vowing to him your service. My-
self, I praise his divine Majesty, have gotten
some step into health. My wants are great; but
yet I want not a desire to do your grace service ; and
I marvel, that your grace should think to pull down
the monarchy of Spain without my good help.
Your grace will give me leave to be merry, how-
ever the world goeth with me. I ever rest
Your grace's most faithful
and obliged servant, &c.
I wish your grace a good new year.
♦ Born November 17, 1625, and named Charles. — Diary of
the Life of Archbishop Laud, published by Mr. WhErton, p
24. This son of the duke died the 16ih of March, 1626-7.—
lbid..P 40
o
158
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
TO SIR IIUMPIITIEY MAY, CHANCELLOR OF THE
DUCHY OF LANCASTER.
Good Mr. Chancellor,
I did wonder what was become of you, and
was very glad to hear you were come to court ;
■which, methinks, as the times go, should miss
vou as well as I.
I send you another letter, which I wrote to you
jf an old date, to avoid repetition; and I continue
my request then to you, to sound the Duke of
Buckingham's good affection towards me, before
you do move him in the particular petition.
Only the present occasion doth invite me to desire,
that his grace would procure me a pardon of the
king of the wnole sentence. My writ for Parlia-
ment I have now had twice before the time, and
that without any express restraint not to use it.
It is true, that I shall not be able, in respect of
my health, to attend in Parliament ; but yet I
might make a proxy. Time hath turned envy to
pity ; and I have a long cleansing week of five
years' expectation and more. Sir .John Bennet
hath his pardon ; and my Lord of Somerset hath
his pardon, and, they say, shall sit in Parliament.
My Lord of SuiTolk cometh to Parliament,'though
not to council. I hope I deserve not to be the
only outcast.
God keep you. I ever rest
Your most affectionate friend,
to do you service.
I wish you a good new year.
Endorsed,
To the Chancellor of the Duchy. Gor. 1625.
TO THE MARQUIS D'EFFIAT, THE FRENCH AM-
BASSADOR.
MoNS. l'Ambassadeur, mon Fils,
Vous scavez que le commencement est la moitie
du fait. Voyla pourquoy je vous ay escrit ce
petit mot de lettre, vous priant de vous souvenir
de vostre noble promesse de me mettre en la bonne
grace de nostre tres-excellente reyne, et m'erl faire
recevoirquelque gracieuse demonstration. Vostre
excellence prendra aussi, s'il vous plaist, quelque
occasion de prescher un pen, Ji mon advantage en
I'oreille du Due de Buckingham en general. Dieu
vous ayt en sa saincte garde.
Vostre tres-affectionne et tres-humble serviteur,
Fr. St. Alban.
Jan. 18, 1G25.
'l%e following letters, tvnnting both dates and cir-
cumstances to determine such dates, are placed
here together.
TO KING JAMES L
May IT PLEASE YOUR Majesty,
Thinking often, as I ought, of your majesty's
virtue and fortune, I do observe, not without ad-
miration, that those civil acts of sovereignty,
which are of the greatest merit, and, tlierefore, of
truest glory, are, by the providence of (Jod, mani-
festly put into your hands, as a chosen vessel tc
receive from God, and an excellent instrument tc
work amongst men the best and noblest things.
The highest degree of sovereign honour is to be
founder of a kingdom or estate ; for as, in the acts
of God, the creation is more than the conserva-
tion ; and as among men the birthday is accounted
the chiefest of the days of life ; so, to found a
kingdom is more worthy than to augment, or to
administer the same. And this is an honour that
no man can take from your majesty, that the day
of your coming to the crown of P]ngland was as
the birthday of the kingdom entire Britain.
The next degree of sovereign honour, is the
plantation of a country or territory, and the reduc-
tion of a nation, from waste soil and barbarous
manners, to a civil population. And in this kind
also your majesty hath made a fair and prosperous
beginning in your realm of Ireland. The third
eminent act of sovereignty is to be a lawgiver,
whereof he speaketh.
Pace data terris, anininm ad civilia vertit
Jura suuni, legesque tulit juslissiinus author.
And another saith, " Ecquid est, quod tam proprie
dici potest actum ejus, qui togatus in republica cum
potestate imperioque versatur, quam lex. Quaere
acta Gracchi ; leges Semproniae proferentur :
quaere Sylla;, Cornelia quid 1 Cnei Pompeii ter-
tius consulatus in quibus actis consistit ? Nempe
legibus. A Cajsare ipso si quajreres quidnam
egisset in urbe et toga ; leges multas se respon-
deat et praeclaras tulisse."
TO THE KING.
It may please your Majesty,
A full heart is like a full pen ; it can hardly
make any distinguished work. The more I look
upon my own weakness, the more I must magnify
your favours ; and the more I behold your favours,
the more I must consider mine own weakness.
This is my hope, that God, who hath moved your
heart to favour me, will write your service in my
heart. Two things I may promise; for, although
they be not mine own, yet they are surer than
mine own, because they are God's gifts ; that is,
integrity and industry. And, therefore, whenso-
ever I shall make my account to you, I shall do
it in these words, ecce tibi lucrifeci, and not ccce
mihi lucrifeci. And for industry, I shall take to
me, in this procuration, not Martha's part, to be
busied in many things, but Mary's part, which is,
to intend your service; for the less my abilities
are, the more they ought to be contracted ad unum.
For the present, I humbly pray your majesty to
accept ray most humble thanks and vows as the
LETTERS FROM IHRCIT.
.')<)
fdrerunnors of your service, which I shall always
perform with a faitlilul lieart.
Your majosiy's most obedient servant,
Fr. Bacon.
TO THE MARQUIS OF nUCKlNGIIAM.
My veky Goon Lord,
I hear yesterday was a day of very great
honour to his majesty, which 1 do congratulate.
1 hope, also, his majesty may reap honour out of
my adversity, as he hath done strength out of my
prosperity. His majesty knows best his own
•ways; and for me to despair of him, were a sin
not to be forgiven. I thank God, I have over-
come the bitterness of this cup by Christian reso-
lution, so that worldly matters are but mint and
cu'min.
God ever preserve you.
Endorsed,
To my Lord Buckingham, after my troubles.
DHAUOIIT OF A I.FTTF.R TO THE MARQl'lS OF
UUCKINUHAM, NOT SENT.*
My Lord: — I say to myself, that your lordship
hath forsaken me ; and 1 think I am one of the last,
that findeth it, and in nothing more, than that, twice
at London, your lordship wouli not vouchsafe tc
see me, though the latter time I begged it of you.
If your lordship lack any justification about
York House, good my lord, think of it better;
for I assure yonr lordslii|), that motion to me was
to me as a second sentence ; for I conceived it
sentenced me to the loss of that, which 1 thought
was saved from the former sentence, which is
your love and favour. But sure it could not be
that pelting matter, but the being out of sight,
out of use, and tlie ill offices done me, perhaps,
by such as have your ear. Thus I think, and
tlius I speak ; for I am far enough' from any base-
ness or detracting, but shall ever love and honour
you, howsoever I be
Your forsaken friend and freed servant,
P'r. St. Alban.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I thouorht it my duty to take knowledge to his
majesty from your lordship, by the enclosed,
that, much to my comfort, 1 understand his ma-
jesty doth not forgot me nor forsake me, but hath
a gracious inclination to me, and taketh care of
me ; and to thank his majesty for the same. I
perceive, by some speech, that passed between
your lordship and Mr. Meautys, that some
wretched detractor hath told you, that it were
strange I should be in debt ; for that I could not
but have received a hundred thousand pounds
gifts since I had the seal ; which is an abomina-
ble falsehood. Such tales as these made St.
James say, that the tong^ue is a fire, and its If fired
from hell, whither when these tongues shall re-
turn they will beg a drop of water to cool them, I
praise God for it, I never took penny for any be-
nefice or ecclesiastical living; I never took penny
for releasing any thing I stopped at the seal; I
never took penny for any commission, or things
of that nature; 1 never sihared with any servant
for any second oi inferioi profit. My offences I
have myself recorded, wherein I studied, as a
good confessant, guiltiness, and not excuse; and,
therefore, I hope it leaves me fair to the king's
grace, and will turn many men's hearts to me.
As for my debts, I showed them your lordship,
when you saw the little house and the farm,
besides a little wood or desert, which you saw not.
If these things were not true, although the
joys of the penitent be sometimes more than the
joys of the innocent, 1 could not be as I am.
God bless you and reward you for your con-
stant love to me 1 rest, &c.
TO THE MARQUIS OF liUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
It is vain to cure tlie accidents of a disease,
except the cause be found and removed. I know
adversity is apprehensive; but I iVar it is too
true, that now I have lost honour, power, profit,
and liberty, I have, in the end, lost that which to
me was more dear than all the rest, which is my
friend. A change there is apparent ^nd great;
and nothing is more sure, than that nothing hath
proceeded from and since my troubles, either
towards your lordship or towards the world,
which hath made me unworthy of your unde-
served favours or undesired promises. Good my
lord, deal so nobly with me, as to let me know
whether I stand upright in your favour, that
either I may enjoy my wonted comfort, or see my
griefs together, that 1 may the better order them;
though, if your lordship should never think
more of me, yet your former favours should bind
me to be
Your lordship's most obliged
and faithlui servant,
Fk. St. Albak.
to the marquis of buckingham.
My very good Lord,
This extreme winter hath turned, with mc, «
weakness of body into a state that I cannot cal\
health, but rather sickness, and that more danger-
• Among Lord Bacon's primed letters, Js one wit'.io'it ^
date, in which he complainSj as in this, that he, betnt^ itrtt%
note in London, the marquis did nol vouchsafe to see him
160
LETTERS FROM BIRCH.
ous than felt, as whereby I am not likely to be
able to wait upon your lordship, as I desired,
your lordship being the person, of whom I pro-
mise myself more almost than of any other; and,
again, to whom, in all loving affection, I desire
no less to approve myself a true friend and ser-
vant. My desire to your lordship, is to admit
this gentleman, my kinsman and approved
friend, to explain to you my business, whereby
to save further length of letter, or the trouble of
your lordship's writing back.
TO MR. TOBIE MATTHEW.
Good Mr. Matthew,
The event of the business, whereof you write,
is, it may be, for the best : for seeing my lord,
of himself, beginneth to come about, quorsum as
yet] I could not in my heart, suffer my Lord
Digby to go hence, without my thanks and
acknowledgments. I send my letter open, which
I pray seal and deliver. Particulars I would not
touch.
Your most affectionate and assured friend,
Fr. St. Alban.
TO MR. TOBIE MATTHEW.
Good Mr. Matthew,
When you write by pieces, it showeth your
continual care ; for a flush of memory is not so
much ; and I shall be always, on my part, ready
to watch for you, as you for me.
I will not fail, when I write to the lord marquis,
to thank his lordship for the message, and to name
the nuntius. And, to tell you plainly, this care
they speak of, concerning my estate, was more
than I looked for at this time; and it is that which
pleaseth me best. For my desires reach but to a
fat otium. That is truth ; and so would I have
all men think, except the greatest; for I know
patents, oblique aliquid inde reddendo, are not so
easily granted.
I pray my service to the Spanish ambassador,
and present him my humble thanks for his favour.
I am much his servant; and ashes may be good
for somewhat. I ever rest
Your most affectionate and assured friend,
Fr. St. Alban.
I have sought for your little book, and cannot
find it. I had it one day with me in my coach.
But sure it is safe ; for I seldom lose books or
papers.
TO the lord viscount ST. ALBAN.
iMoST HONOURED LoRD,
T have received your great and noble token and
favour of the 9th of April, and can but return the
^'umblest of mv thanks for your lordship's vouch-
safing so to visit this poorest and unworthiest of
your servants. It doth me good at heart, that,
although I be not where I was in place, yet I am
in the fortune of your lordship's favour, if I may
call that fortune, which I observe to be so
unchangeable. I pray hard that it may once
come in my power to serve you for it; and who
can tell but that, as fortis irnaginatio general
casum, so strange desires may do as much]
Sure 1 am, that mine are ever waiting on your
lordship; and wishing as much happiness as is
due to your incomparable virtue, 1 humbly do
your lordship reverence.
Your lordship's most obliged
and humble servant,
ToBiE Matthew.
P. S. The most prodigious wit that ever I
knew of my nation, and of this side of the sea, is
of your lordship's name, though he be known by
another.
TO THE LORD ARCHBISHOP OF YORK.*
My very GOOD Lord,
I must use a better style than mine own in say-
ing, Jlmor itnis undequaquc se ostendii ex Uteris
tuis proximis, for which I give your grace many
thanks, and so, with more confidence, continue
my suit to your lordship for a lease absolute for
twenty-one years of the house, being the number
of years which my father and my predecessors
fulfilled in it. A good fine requires certainty of
term ; and I am well assured, that the charge I
have expended in reparations, amounting to one
thousand marks at least already, is more than
hath been laid out by the tenants that have been
in it since my remembrance, answerable to my
particular circumstance, that 1 was born there,
and am like to end my days there. Neither can
I hold my hand, but, upon this encouragement,
am like to be doing still, which tendeth to the
improvement, in great measure, of the inheritance
of your see by superlapidations, if I may so call
it, instead of dilapidations, wherewith otherwise
it might be charged.
And whereas a state for life is a certainty, and
not so well seen how it wears, a term of years
makes me more depending upon you and your
succession.
For the providing of your lordship and your
successors a house, it is part of the former co-
venant, wherein I desired not to be released.
So, assuring myself of your grant and perfect-
ing of this my suit, and assuring your grace of
my earnest desire and continual readiness to
deserve well of you, and yours chiefly, and like-
wise of the see in any the causes or preeminences
thereof. I commend your grace to God's good-
ness, resting, &c.
* Dr. Toble Matthew.
LETTERS FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
161
MINUTE OF A LETTER TO THE COUNT PALATINE
OF THE RHINE.
MONSEIGNEUR,
Je me tiens a grand honneur, qu'il plaise a
vostre altesse de me cognoistre pour tel, que je
suis, ou pour le moins voudrois cstre, envers vous
et vostre service : et m'estimcray heureux, si par
mes conseils aupres du roy, ou autre devoir, je
pourroy contribuer a vostre grandeur, dont il
semble que Dieu vous a basti de belles occasions,
ayant en contemplation vostre tres-illustre person-
ne, nou seuleuient comme trcs-cher allie de raon
maistre, mais aussi, comme le meilleur appui,
apres les roys de Grande Bretagne, de la plus
saine partie de la chrestienete.
Je ne puis aussi passer sous silence la grando
raison, que vostre altesse fait a vostre propre
honneur en choississant tels conseilleurs et minis-
tres d'cstat, comme se montre tres-bien estre
Monsieur le Baron de Dhona et Monsieur de
Plessen, estants personages si graves, discretes el
habiles ; en quoy vostre jugement reluict assez.
Vostre altesse de vostre grace excusera la
faulte de mon langage Francois, ayant este tant
verse es vielles loix de Normandie : mais le coeur
supplera la plume, en priant Dieu de vous teriir
en sa digne et saincte garde,
Mcnseigneur, de vostre Altesse le plus
humble et plus aflectionne serviteur.
Endorsed, May 13, 1619.
LETTERS FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.
rO LADY BURGHLEY, TO SPEAK FOR IIIM TO HER
LORD.*
My singojlar good Lady,
I was as ready to show myself mindful of my
duty, by waiting on your ladyship, at your being
in town, as now by writing, had I not feared lest
your ladyship's short stay, and quick return might
well spare me, that came of no earnest errand. I
am not yet greatly perfect in ceremonies of court,
whereof, I know, your ladyship knoweth both the
right use, and true value. My thankful and ser-
viceable mind shall be always like itself, howso-
ever it vary from the common disguising. Your
ladyship is wise, and of good nature to discern
from what mind every action proceedeth, and to
esteem of it accordingly. This is all the message
which my letter hath at this time to deliver,
unless it please your ladyship further to give me
leave to make this request unto you, that it would
please your good ladyship, in your letters, where-
with you visit my good lord, to vouchsafe the
mention and recommendation of my suit; where-
in your ladyship shall bind me more unto you
than 1 can look ever to be able sufficiently to ac-
knowledge. Thus, in humble manner, I take my
leave of your ladyship, committing you, as daily
in my prayers, so, likewise, at this present, to the
merciful providence of the Almighty.
Your ladyship's most dutiful
and bounden nephew,
B. Fra.
From Grey's Inn, this 16th September, 1580.
♦ I.ansd. MS. xxxi art. 14.
Vol. 111—21
TO LORD BURGHLEY, TO RECOMMEND HIM TO
THE QUEEN.*
My singular good Lord,
My humble duty remembered, and my humble
thanks presented for your lordship's favour and
countenance, which it pleased your lordship, at
my being with you, to vouchsafe me, above my
degree and desert. My letter hath no fuiiher
errand but to commend unto your lordship the
remembrance of my suit, which then I moved
unto you ; whereof it also pleased your lordship
to give me good hearing, so far forth as to promise
to tender it unto her majesty, and withal to add,
in the behalf of it, that which 1 may better deliver
by letter than by speech ; which is, that although
it must be confessed that the request is rare and
I unaccustomed, yet if it be observed how few there
be which fall in with the study of the common
laws, either being well left or friended, or at their
own free election, or forsaking likely success in
other studies of more delight, and no less prefer-
ment, or setting hand thereunto early, without
waste of years ; upon such survey made, it may
be my case may not seem ordinary, no more tnan
my suit, and so more beseeming unto it. As I
force myself to say this in excuse of my motion,
lest it should appear unto your lordship altogether
indiscreet and unadvised, so my hope to obtain
it resteth only upon your lordship's good affection
toward me, and grace with her majesty, who,
methinks, needeth never to call for the experience
of the thing, where she hath so great and so goo<l
* Lansd. MS. xxxi art. 14.
o2
162
LETTERS FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
of the person which recommendeth it. According
to which trust of mine, if it may please your
lordship both herein and elsewhere to be my \
patron, and to make account of me, as one in [
<vhose well doing your lordship hath interest,
albeit, indeed, your lordship hath had place to
benefit many, and wisdom to make due choice of
lighting places for your goodness, yet do I not
fear any of your lordship's former experiences for
staying my thankfulness borne in heart, howso-
ever God's good pleasure shall enable me or dis-
able me, outwardly, to make proof thereof; for I
cannot account your lordship's service distinct
from that which I owe to God and my prince ; the
performance whereof to best proof and purpose is
the meeting point and rendezvous of all my
thoughts. Thus I take my leave of your lordship,
in humble manner, committing you, as daily in
my prayers, so, likewise, at this present, to the
merciful protection of the Almighty.
Your most dutiful and bounden nephew,
B. Fra.
From Grey's Inn, this 16th of September, 1580.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD
TREASURER.*
My very good Lord,
I take it as an undoubted sign of your lord-
ship's favour unto me, that, being hardly informed
of me, you took occasion rather of good advice
than of evil opinion thereby. And if }^our lord-
ship had grounded only upon the said information
of theirs, I might, and would truly have upfiolden
that few of the matters were justly objected; as
the very circumstances do induce, in that they
were delivered by men that did misaffect me,
and, besides, were to give colour to their own
doings. But because 3^our lordship did mingle
therewith both a late motion of mine own, and
somewhat which you had otherwise heard, I
know it to be my duty, (and so do I stand affect-
ed,) rather to prove your lordship's admonition
effectual in my doings hereafter, than causeless
by excusing what is past. And yet, (with your
lordship's pardon humbly asked,) it may please
you to remember, that I did endeavour to set
forth that said motion in such sort, as it might
breed no harder effect than a denial. And I pro-
test simply before God, that I sought therein an
ease in coming within bars, and not any extraor-
dinary or singular note of favour. And for that,
your lordship may otherwise have heard of me,
it shall make me more wary and circumspect in
carriage of myself; indeed, I find in my simple I
observation, that they which live, as it were, in [
umbra and not in public or frequent action, how i
moderately and modestly soever they behave I
themselves, yet laboraiif invidia; I find, also, that
such persons as are of nature bashful (as mysell
is,) whereby they want that plausible familiarity
which others have, are often mistaken for proud.
But once I knew well, and I most humbly be-
seech your lordship to believe, that arrogancy
and overweening is so far fmm my nature, as if
I think well of myself in any thing, it is in this,
that I am free from that vice. And I hope upon
tills your lordship's speech, I have entered into
those considerations, as my behaviour shall no
more deliver me for other than I am. And so,
wishing unto your lordship ail honour, and to
myself continuance of your good opinion, with
mind and means to deserve it, I humbly take
my leave.
Your lordship's most bounden nephew,
Fr. Bacon.
Grey's Inn, this Gth of May, 15S6.
TO SIR ROBERT CECIL, KMOHT.*
Sir : — I thank your honour very much for the
signification which I received by Mr. Hickes, of
your good opinion, good affection, and readiness ;
and as to the impediment which you mention,
and I did forecast, I know you bear that honoura-
ble disposition, as it will rather give you appre-
hension to deal more effectually for me than
otherwise, not only because the trial of friends
is in case of difficulty, but again, for that without
this circumstance, your honour should be only
esteemed a true friend and kinsman, whereas now
you shall be further judged a most honourable
counsellor; for pardons are each honourable,
because they come from mercy, but most honour-
able towards such offenders. My desire is, your
honour should break with my lord, your father
as soon as may stand with your convenience,
which was the cause why now I did write. And
so I wish your honour all happiness.
Your honour's in faithful affection
to be commanded,
Fr. Bacon.
From Grey's Inn, tliis 10th of April, 1;J93
• Lansd. MS. li. art. 5, Orij.
TO MR. MICHAEL HICKES, SECRETARY TO THE
LORD HIGH TREASURER!
Mr. Hickes, still I hold opinion that a good soli-
citor is as good as a good counsellor, I pray as you
have begun so continue, to put Sir Robert Cecil
in mind. I write now because I understand, by
occasion of Mr. Solicitor's ordering at the coart,
things are like to be delilierated, if not resolved.
I pray learn what you can, both by your nearness
* Lansd. MS. Ixxv. art. 36, Orig.
t Lansd. MS. Ixxv. art. 56, Orig
LEITERS FROM T{IE BRITISH MUSEUM.
^63
to my lord, and by speech with Sir Robert, and
write what you find. Thus, in haste, I wish you
right well.
Your friend assured,
Fr. Bacon.
From Gorhambiiry, this 26th of September, 1593.
I pray send me word what is your day of pay-
ment, and whether you can be certain to renew,
because my brother's land is not yet sold.
TO THE LORD HIGH TREASURER.*
After the remembrance of my humble and
bounden duty, it may please your good lordship,
the last term I drew myself to my house in the
country, expectintr that the queen would have
placed another solicitor, and so I confess a little
to help digestion, and to be out of eye, I absented
myself, for I understood her majesty not only to
continue in her delay, but, (as I was advertised
chiefly by my Lord of Essex,) to be retrograde,
(to use the term applied to the highest powers;)
since which time, I have, as in mine own conceit,
given over the suit, though I leave it to her ma-
jesty's tenderness, and the constancy of my
honourable friends, so it be without pressing.
And now my writing to your lordship is chiefly
to give you_ thanks. For, surely, if a man con-
sider the travail and not the event, a man is often
more bounden to his honourable friends for a suit
denied than for a suit succeeding. Herewithal,
I am bold to make unto your lordship three re-
quests, w'hich ought to be very reasonable,
because they come so many at once. But I
cannot call that reasonable, which is only
grounded upon favour. The first is, that your
lordship would yet tueri opus tuitm, and give as
much life unto this present suit for the solicitor's
place, as may be without ofl^ending the queen,
(for that were not good for me.) The next is,
that, if I did show myself too credulous to idle
hearsays, in regard of my right honourable kins-
man and good friend, Sir Robert Cecil, (whose
good nature did w^ell answer my honest liberty,)
your lordship will impute it to the complexion of
a suitor, and of a tired sea-sick suitor, and not to
mine own injelination; lastly, that howsoever this
matter go, yet I may enjoy your lordship's good
favour and help, as I have done in regard of my
private estate, which, as I have not altogether
neglected, so I have but negligently attended,
and which hath be( n betteied only by yourself,
(the queen except,) ind not by any other in mat-
ter of importance. This last request, I find it
more necessary for r le to make, because, (though
I am glad of her majesty's favour, that I may,
* I^nsd. MS. Uxviii. art. 31, Orig.
with more ease, practise the law, which, percasc,
I may use now and then for my countenance,) yet,
to speak plainly, though perhaps vainly, I do not
think that the ordinary practice of the law, not
serving the queen in place, will be admitted for
a good account of the poor talent that God hath
given me, so as I make reckoning, I shall reap no
great benefit to myself in that course. Thus, again
desiring the continuance of your lordship's good-
ness as I have hitherto found, and on my part,
sought also to deserve, I commend your good
lordship to God's good preservation.
Your lordship's most humbly bounden,
Fr. Bacon.
From Gray's Inn, this 21st of March, 1591.
TO MR. HENRY MAYNARD, AND MR. MICHAEL
HICKES.*
Mr. Maynard and Mr. Hiokes, I build some-
what, upon the conceit I have of your good wills,
which maketh me direct my request to you in so
pressing an occasion as is fallen unto me, by the
strange slipping, and uncertain over-cunning deal-
ing of a man in the city, who, having concluded a
bargain with me for certain marsh lands, now in
mortgage for a thousand pounds, and standing to
be redeemed the 24th of this present, which is
but twelve days hence, and being to give me six-
teen hundred and odd pounds for the sale, doth
now upon a point, as clear as any case in Little-
ton, and wherein Mr. Attorney-General, Mr.
Brograve, Mr. Heskett, Mr. Gerard, Mr. Altham,
and all that I can speak with, make no manner
of doubt, quarrel upon the assurance, and so in
this time of diflRculty for money pensions, and in
so instant a quantity of time as twelve days,
plunge me to seek my redemption money, or to
forfeit my land to seven hundred pounds less and
more. This maketh me desire the help of two
so good friends as I esteem yourselves to be, the
rather because the collateral pawn which I would
offer, which is the assurance of my lease of
Twickenham, being a thing which will pass with
easy and short assurance, and is every way clear
and unsubject to encumbrance, (because it i>:- my
pleasure and my dwelling,) I would not offer but
to a private friend ; upon which assurance i.\y
desire is, that upon your joint means or credit, I
might be furnished at my day, and if either of
you like the bargain of my marsh lands, }^ou shall
have their refusal, and I shall think you true and
timely friends. So, in great haste, I bid you
both farewell.
Your friend, loving and assured,
Fr. Bacon
From my chamber, this 12th of March, 1595.
* T^anid MS. Izxx. art
Qvi.
164
LETTERS FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
to lord burghley.*
It may please your good Lordship.
I am sorry the joint mask from the four inns
cf court faileth, wherein I conceive there is no
other ground of that event but impossibility.
Nevertheless, because it faileth out tnat at this
time Gray's Inn is well furnished of gallant
young gentlemen, your lordship may be pleased
to know that rather than this occasion shall pass
without some demonstration of affection from the
inns of court; there are a dozen gentlemen of
Gray's Inn, that out of the honour which they
bear to your lordship and my lord chamberlain,
to whom at their last mask they were so much
bounden, will be ready to furnish a mask, wishing
it were in their powers to perform it according to
their minds. And so for the present I humbly
take my leave, resting
Your lordship's very humble
and much bounden,
Fr. Bacon.
TO MR. MICHAEL IIICKES.t
Sir, — ^The queen hath done somewhat for me,
though not in the proportion I hoped ; but the
order is given, only the moneys will not in any
part come to my hand this fortnight ; the later
by reason of Mr. Attorney's absence, busied to
j;. the queen, and I am like to borrow the
mean while. Thus hoping to take hold of your
invitation some day this borrowing, I rest
Your assured friend,
Fr. Bacon.
TO THE EARL OF SALISBURY?
My Lord, — No man can better expound my
doings than your lordship, which maketh me
need to say the less ; only I humbly pray you to
believe that I aspire to conscience and commenda-
tion, first of bonus civis, which with us is a good
and true servant to the queen, and next of bonus
vir, that is, an honest man. I desire your lordship
also to think that though I confess I love some
things much better than I love your lordship, as
the queen's service, her quiet and contentment,
het honour, her favour, the good of my country,
and the like, yet, I love few persons better than
yourself, both for gratitude's sake, and for your
own trueness, which cannot hurt but by accident
01 abuse, of which my good affection, I was ever
Arid a.n ready to yield testimony by any good
oifTs, but with such reservations as yourself can-
♦ Lansd MS. cvii. art. 8, Orig
+ Lans(i. MS. cvii. art. 9, Orig
X Difficult to decypher, q. intercede 1
Lausd. MS. Ixxxvii. art. 79, Orig.
not but allow ; for as I was evei sorry that your
lordship shauld fly with waxen wings, doubting
Icarus's fortune, so, for the growing up of your
own feathers, specially ostrich's, or any other,
save of a bird of prey, no man shall be more glad ;
and this is the axletree whereupon I have turned,
and shall turn, which to signify to you, though I
think you are of yourself persuaded as much, is
the cause of iny writing; and so commend I your
lordship to God's goodness.
Your lordship's most humbly,
Fr. Bacon.
From Gray's Inn, this 20th of July, 1000.
TO MR. MICHAEL HICKES.*
Mr. Hickes, — I thank you for your letter,
testifying your kind care of my fortune, which
when it mendeth, your thanks will likewise
amend. In particular you write you would be in
town as on Monday, which is passed, and that
you would make proof of Mr. Billett, or some
other friend for my supply, whereof I see you are
the more sensible, because you concur in approv-
ing my purpose and resolution, of first freeing my
credit from suits and speech, and so my estate by
degrees, which in very truth was the cause which
made me sub impudens in moving you for new
help, when I should have helped you with youi
former money. I am desirous to know what
success you have had since your coming to town,
in your kind care. I have thought of two sure-
ties for one hundred pounds a piece : the one Mr.
Fra. Anger, of Gray's Inn, he that was the old
Count of Lincoln's executor, a man very honest
and very able, with whom I have spoken, and he
hath promised ; the other Sir Thomas Hobby,
whom I have not spoken with, but do presume of,
though I never used him in that kind. So leaving
it to your good will, I rest
Your assured loving friend,
Fr. Bacon.
1000.
TO MR. M. HICKES.t
Mr. Hickes, — Your remain shall be with you
this term, but I have now a further request, which,
if you perform, I shall think you one of the best
friends I have, and yet, the matter is not much to
you, but the timing of it is much to me ; for I am
now about this term to free myself from all debts,
which are any ways in suit or urged, following a
faster pace to free my credit than my means can
follow to free my state, which yet cannot stay
long after ; I having resolved to spare no means
* Lansd. MS. Uxxvii. art. 86, On?.
t Lansd. MS. Izxxviii. an '^ Oriy
LETTERS FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
165
I hvive in hand (takintr othor possibilities for
advantage) to clear myself from the discontent,
speech, or danger of others. And some of my
debts of most clamour and importunity I have
fhis term, and some few days before, ordered, and
in fact paid. I pray you to your former favours,
which I do still remember, and may hereafter
requite, help me out with two hundred pounds
more for six months ; I will put you in good sure-
ties, and you shall do me a great deal of honesty
and reputation ; I have written to you the very
truth and secret of my course, which to few-
others I would have done, thinking it may move
you. And so, with my loving commendations,
I rest
Your assured, loving friend,
Fr. Bacon.
Jan. 21, ICOO.
TO SIR ROBERT COTTON.
Sir, — Finding, during Parliament, a willing-
ness in you to confer with me in this great service
concerning the union, I do now take hold thereof
to excuse my boldness to desire that now which
you ottered then, for both the time as to leisure
is more liberal, and as to the service itself is
more urgent. Whether it will like you to come
to me to Gray's Inn, or to appoint me where
to meet with you, I am indifferent, and leave
it to your choice, and accordingly desire to
hear from you; so I remain your very loving
friend,
Fb. Bacon.
Gray's Inn, this 8th of Sept., 1C04.
TO SIR M. HICKES.*
Sir, — For your travel with all disadvantages,
I will put it upon my account to travel twice so
far, upon any occasion of yours ; but your wits
seemed not travelled, but fresh, by your letter,
which is to me an infallible argument of hearts-
ease, which doth so well with you, as I must
entreat you to help me to some of the same. And,
therefore, I will adjourn our conference to your
return to the Strand, on Monday, where I will
find you, if it chance right. And this day would
1 have come to your Friary, f but that I am com-
manded to attend the indictments at Westminster.
And so I leave, to perceive your good disposi-
tion.
1 remain yours assured,
Fr. Bacon.
Jai> 17,1005.
* Lansd. MS. Ixxxix. art. 16, Orig.
t Augustine Friara.
TO SIR MICHAEL HICKES.*
Sir, — I pray try the concension I. spoke to yoe
of out of hand. For it is a mind I shall not
continue in, if it pass this very tide. So I rest
Yours, Fr. Bacon.
October, 1606.
TO SIR MICHAEL HICKES.f
Sir, — There is a commission, touching the
king's service, to be executed at your house, on
Tuesday next', the commissioners are Mr. Re-
corder of London, Sir John Bennet, Sir Thomas
Bodley, and myseif. There are blanks left for
other names, such as you in your wisdom shall
think fit to fill. Mr. Horden is wished, for the
better countenance of the service, and Sir Thomas
Lowe is spoken of, but these and others are
wholly left unto you. It will take up a whole
afternoon, and, therefore, no remedy but we must
dine with you; but for that you are not so little
in grace with Mr. Chancellor but you may have
allowance, the Exchequer being first full ; hereof
I thought most necessary to give you notice. So
I remain Your assured guest and friend,
Fr. Bacon
This Sunday at aflernoon, August 6, 1609.
TO SIR ROBERT COTTON.J
Sir, — Y'ou may think the occasion was great
and present, that made me defer a thing I to(jk
much to heart so long; I have in the blank leaf
supplied some clauses, which, warranted by your
kind respect and liberty, I wish were inserted for
my father's honour, as a son, I confess; but yet,
no farther than I have the two great champions,
both truth and opinion, of my side. They be but
three places, and that you may readily find them,
I have turned down leaves ; desiring you to reform
the Latin or the sense by your better style and
conceit, which done, if it please you (being but
three pages) to have them written again, and so
incorporate them into the copy you carry to the
king, you shall content me much, who I think
am no unfit man to give you some contribution or
retribution to your worthy intention. So, in haste^-
I remain Your assured friend,
Fr. Bacon.
Gray's Inn, this 7th
of April, 1010.
TO SIR MICHAEL HICKhS.,?
Sir Michael Hickes,
It is but a wish, and not any ways to desire ir
to your trouble, but I heartily wish I had yoar
* Lansd. MS. Ixxxix. art. 105, Orig
+ Lansd. MS. xci. art. 94, Orig.
t Cotton MS. Julius, c. iii. fol. 71 \ Orig.
j Lansd. MS. xci »rt. 40, Oric.
166
LETTERS FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
company here at my mother's funeral, which I
purpose on Thursday next, in the forenoon. I
'.lare promise you a orood sermon, to be made by
Mr. Fenton, the preacher of Gray's Inn ; for he
never maketh other feast ; I make none : but if I
might have your company for two or three days
at my house, I should pass over this mournful
"occasion with more comfort. If your son had
continued at St. Julian's, it might have been an
adamant to have drawn you ; but now, if you
come, I must say it is only for my sake. I com-
mend myself to my lady, and commend my wife
to you both. And rest
Yours ever assured, Fr. Bacon.
This Monday, 27th of
August, 1610.
TO SIR MICHAEL HICKES.*
Sir Michael,
I do use, as you know, to pay my debts with
time; but, indeed, if you will have a good and
perfect colour in a carnation stocking, it must be
long in the dyeing: I have some scruple of con-
science whether it was my lady's stockings or her
daughter's, and I would have the restitution to be
to the right person, else I shall not have absolu-
tion. Therefore, I have sent to them both, desir-
ing them to wear them for my sake, as I did
wear theirs for mine own sake. So, wishing
you all a good new year, I rest
Yours assured, Fr. Bacon.
Gray's Inn, this 8th of Jan., 1611.
TO HIS VERY LOVING FRIEND, MR. JOHN MUR-
RAY, OF HIS MAJESTY'S BEDCHAMBER. DELI-
VER THESE.t
(jood Mr. Murray,
I have laboured like a pack-horse in your busi-
ness, and, as I think, have driven in a nail. I
pray deliver the enclosed to his majesty, wherein
I have made mention of the same. I rest
Yours assured, Fr. Bacon.
27th January, 1611.
TROM THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE TO THE
RIGHT HONOURABLE SIR FRANCIS BACON,
KNIGHT, HIS MAJESTY'S ATTORNEY-GENE-
RAL, AND ONE OF HIS HONOURABLE PRIVY
COUNCIL, THESE t
Right Honourable,
The special love and favour which your honour,
by word and writing, hath ever professed to learn-
ing and this university, makes us fly to your
protection in a present danger, where we fear the
rhief nerves and foundation of all our jurisdiction,
* Lansd. MS. xci. art 81, Orig.
•f Hart. MSS. 6986, art. 114.
t 8loan MS. 3562, art. 40.
and gracious charters, are (under a pretence ol
dignity and honour to this university) eitlier in-
tended to be shaken, or wholly overtlirown. We
doubt not but your honour hath heard of a late
petition preferred to his majesty by the mayor and
others of Cambridge, (as they pretend,) to dig-
nify the university in making tlie town a city;
which, upon so fair a gloss, his majesty, out of
his gracious favour to this university, hath ref*,r-
red to the order of Lord Chancellor of England,
their high steward ; the lord treasurer, our ho-
nourable and our most loving chancellor, and
your honour. By this project, (though dignity
and honour to us be the first colour they cast upon
their suit, yet, by the cunning carriage of the
business, and secret workings of friends,) we
cannot but fear this shadow will be overcast with
matter of such substance for them and their pur-
pose, that it will either draw our former grants
into question, or us to great inconvenience. Nei-
ther is this suspicion without a cause ; first, for
that, about six years past, the like petition was
preferred and followed by them; at what time, by
a secret view of their book, we perceived our best
charters nearly touched : secondly, upon our ear-
nest request to have a copy of such matters as
they desire, they slight us, saying, "That were
but to part the lion's skin :" thirdly, by experience
we find the danger of trusting their kindness, for,
upon our late suiferance of their last charter to
pass, (without good advice of our council,) they
both encroach upon our ancient grants, and enforce
that charter not only against our privileges and
customs, but the special proviso and reservation
therein made for our former liberties. These
peremptory answers and dealings of theirs, upon
so kind and friendly usage and requests of ours,
make us fear the sequel ; for, that as yet we could
never find, by any record, act, or wish of theirs,
that this university ever received honour, dignity,
or favour; in regard whereof, we earnestly entreat
your honour to stand with our worthy chancelloi
and us in staying this suit, until we be truly in-
formed how the town may receive grace and the
university no dishonour. So, with our hearty
thanks to your honour, for all your former favours
showed us and this university, and witn our daily
prayers to the Almighty for your long life and
happiness, we take our leave.
Your honour's in all duty.
This 9th of December, 1616.
TO THE RIGHT M'ORSHIPFUL THE VICE-CHAN-
CELLOR AND OTHERS, THE MASTER?, AND THE
HEADS OF THE HOUSES OF THE UNIVERSITY
OF CAMBRIDGE.*
After my very hearty commendations, I have
received your letter of the 9lh of this present
♦ Sloan MS. No. 3i562. art. 25.
LETTERS FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
167
December, and have taken care of you rather ac-
cording to your request than at your request;
forasmuch as I had done it before your letter
came. This you may perceive by the joint letter
which you shall receive from my lord chancellor,
my lord treasurer, and myself. And, for me, you
may rest assured that nothing can concern you
Utile, or more nearly, or afar off, but you shall
have all care out of my affection, and all strength
and help out of my means and power to conserve
and advance your good estate and contentment.
And so I remain
Your very affectionate
and assured friend,
Fr. Bacon.
December 28, 1616.
A LETTER TO MY LORD OF BUCKINGHAM, TOUCH-
ING MOMPESSON'S BUSINESS OF INNS*
My very good Lord,
We are left a little naked in the business of
Inns, by the death of Justice Nicholls ; and my
Lord Chief Baron and Mr. Justice Crooke having
been with me, do desire the number of three may
be fulfilled. I have, therefore, sent your lordship
a warrant for the king's signature, wherein Justice
Winch is put in Justice Nicholls' place. It is
also altered at my request, in that other point of
the former warrant, whereby the certificate was
required in writing, which they desire may be by
attending his majesty themselves, at his coming,
which I do think to be the more convenient and
the more usual forjudges. I ever rest
Your lordship's true and most
devoted servant.
October 18, 1616.
FROM THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE.*
Right Honourable,
The confidence which the townsmen have, in
obtaining their charter and petition, makes us bold
and importunate suitors to your honour, by whose
favour with his majesty and protection, we again
humbly entreat, the university and ourselves may
bo freed from that danger which by them is in-
tended to us. By their own reports, it is a matter
of lionour and advantage for which they sue :
when they were at their lowest, and in their
meanest fortunes, they ever showed themselves
unkind neighbours to us ; and their suits with us,
within these few years, have caused us to spend
our common treasury, and trouble our best friends,
and, therefore, we cannot expect peace amongst
them, when their thoughts and wills shall be
winged and strengthened by that power and au-
thority which the very bare title of a city will
give unto them. Since our late letter to the right
honourable lord chancellor, your honour, and his
majesty's attorney-general, we (being better in-
formed of the course they take, and of their con-
fidence to prevail at the end of the next term)
have sent letters from the body of the university
to the kind's majesty, the lord chancellor, and
others, our honourable friends; showing them of
our fear, and their purpose, and to entreat them
to join with your honour and us, to his majesty,
to stay their suit before we be driven to further
charge or trouble, in entertaining counsel, or soli-
citing our friends. Thus, humbly entreating your
honour to pardon our importunity, and often
soliciting your lordship in this business, with our
earnest prayers to the Almighty for your honour's
long life and happy estate, we end this.
Your honour's in all duty
to be commanded.
February, 1616.
* Sloan MS. 3.562. art. 41.
TO MY LORD OF BUCKINGHAM, TOUCHING MOM-
pesson's business, the maltsters, &c.t
My very good Lord,
I am much troubled in mind, for that I hear you
are not perfectly well, without whose health I
cannot joy, and without whose life, I desire not
to be. I hear nothing from Mr. Mompesson,
save that some tell me is knighted, which I am
glad of, because he may the better fight with the
bull and the bear, and the Saracen's head, and
such fearful creatures.
For Sir Robert Killigrewe's suit of enrolment
of apprentices, I doubt we must part it ; but yet I
suppose it may be left valuable.
Your office is despatched, and your books in
effect. I have given his majesty an account of
those things wherein I have received his pleasure
from your lordship by this letter which I send
open.
Good, my lord, once again have care of your
health ; and learn what Cardanus saith, that more
men die of cold after exercise, than are slain in
the wars. God ever keep you.
Your lordship's true and much devoted servant.
Nov. 21, 1616.
A LETTER FROM HIS MA.IESTY TO YOUR LORD
SHIP, TOUCHING THE BUSINESS OF THE MINT.|
Right trusty and right beloved counsellor,
we greet you well.
Before your letters came to us, we had beer;
informed of the pains and diligence you hai!
showed in our service, which we take very f ra
ciously at your hands, and thank you for it, de
siring you still to continue in the course whereinto
• Addit. MS. Miis. Brit. No. 5503, fol.
t Addit. MS. 5503, fol. 96.
LETTERS FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
you have made so good an entrance, and have |
taken the right way of examining the business. |
And, whereas, you give your opinion of the mint,
we have thought fit to remember unto you the
usual form which we have ever used in matters
of consequence, that when you have taken the
laborious part upon you in examination of the bu-
siness, we first here report of the whole proceed-
ing, before we give our resolution thereupon.
And, therefore, until we hear the report of it in
particular, we cannot conclude with you. As for
the point of the stay of commerce, we agree with
you in opinion thus far, that you call three or four
of the aldermen whom you shall think fittest, and
assure them, in our name, that we see no likeli-
hood or reason of raising our coin, for aught we
have yet heard, but rather of the contrary ; and
that the raising of the value of the coin will be
the last course we shall take, when we see no
other means left; for which we yet see no cause,
and, therefore, the stop of money is needless. As
for the committee, we think it fit that they should
continue to meet, until we have brought the busi-
ness to such ripeness, that by the report thereof,
at our return, we may perfectly understand every
particular.
Given at our court at Newmarket,
this4thof Deceiiiljer, 1618,
a letter to my lord buckingham.*
My very good Lord,
Your lordship's former letter was honourable, but
this your latterletter was both honourable and com-
fortable ; for which I yield your lordship humble
thanks. And for my liberty, as your lordship
hath, in your letter, vouchsafed to show a great
deal of tenderness concerning the same, so you
will be nobly pleased to take some opportune time
to move it ; the rather, for that the season cometh
on now fit for physic, which at this time of the
year I have ever used ; and my health never so
much required. I ever humbly rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant.
5U. March, 1021.
TO MV VERY LOVXG FRIEND, THE MAYOR, &c.
OF CAMBRIDGE.!
Whereas I am given to understand that there
are some differences lately risen between the now
mayor and aldermen, and other the members of
that corporation, touching the election of the
mayor next to succeed ; wherein all parties have,
according to charter, appealed to me as their high
• Addit. MS. 5503, fol. 105, 1.
+ MS. Colo, Miis. Brit, vol xx fol. 229.
steward : forasmuch as I have but even newly
recovered some degree of health, after a sharp
sickness of some weeks, I am constrained to put
oflfthe hearing till Monday, the -iOth of this instant,
at my lodging at Gray's Inn, &c.
Your very loving friend,
Fr. St. Alban.
From Gray's Inn, ihig 8th September, 1624.
A LETTER FROM MR. FRANCIS BACON TO THE
LORD PRESIDENT OF YORK, IN FAVOUR OF MR.
JOHNS, FOR THE SECRETARY'S PLACE AT YORK.*
It MAY PLEASE YOUR GOOD LoRDSHIP,
I have been moved to recommend a person and
suit to your lordship, which I assure myself, if it
may take place with you, I shall not lose credit
with you by ; for both I know perfectly tlie honesty
and sufficiency of the man, and that which is the
next point, I am so well acquainted with his duti-
ful affection to your lordship, as I dare undertake
no servant of yours shall be more observantly and
faithfully at your commandment. It is conceived
in court, that Mr. Secretary Herbert shall have
conferred upon him the place of secretary there,
whose good will, by that which we do already
find, Mr. Edward .Tones hath reason to hope well
of for a deputation. There rest two points, the
one her majesty's good allowance, and the other
yours. The former whereof I hope he shall have
good means to procure, and the second is that
which 1 am to sue to your lordship for. Wherein
to move you, besides the fitness of the man hardly
to be matched in any other particular, I will un-
dertake for his thankfulness in as good a manner
as any other can be whatsoever ; and all the poor
credit myself have with you, which I have not
been unmindful to cherish, I desire may appear in
this suit rather than in any motion for myself.
And so, with my humble signification of duty, I
commend your lordship to God's goodness.
At your lordship's honourable
commandment,
Fr. Bacon.
A LETTER TO MR. MATTHEW.f
Mri. Matthew,
I hope it may stand with your business to come
hither down to me on Monday or Tuesday next.
My Lord Digby I understand is in town, my
Lord of Doncaster not hastily expected, the king
far off. I pray you, if )'^our business be not very
important, let me see you one of those days. I
do hear from you by Mr. Meautys that I am still
much bound to my Lord Digby. I take it, 1
♦ MS. Lansd. Miis. Brit. vol. ccxxxviii. fol. 126.
t Addit. MS. Mils. Brit. 5503, fol. 103.
LE'lTERS FROM THI-: LAMBETH LIBRARY.
169
directed Mr. Mcavitys to tell j^ou, that havinrr
somewhat better signs of my lord marquis's good
disposition towards me, than when 1 wrote to my
Lord Digby last, I would raise my request to his
lordship, that, whereas I desired his lordship to
move a temporary leave to come to London next
Lent for my health, and Easter term for my busi-
ness, he would now (if he so think it convenient)
deal for a release of the confinement indefinite,
for the same reasons of an infirm health ; and the
settling the poor planks on my wrecks will con-
tinue still. If my Lord Digby make haste to
court, I pray do this before you come down to
me ; if not, you may defer it till we have spoken.
God keep and prosper you.
Your most, &c.
15th February, l(i21.
A LETTER TO MY LORD TREASURER LEA.*
My Lord, — I humbly entreat your lordship
and (if I may use the word) advise your lordship
to make me a better answer. Your lordship is
interested in honour in the opinion of all that
hear how I am dealt with. If your lordship ma-
lice me for Long's cause, surely it was one of the
justest businesses that ever was in Chancery. I
will avouch it; and how deeply I was tempt»^d
therein your lordship kncv^eth best. Your lord-,
ship may do well to think of your grave as I do
of mine, and to beware of hardness of heart. And
as for fair words, it is a wind by which neither
your lordship nor any man else can sail long.
Howsoever, I am the man that shall give all due
respects and reverence to your great place.
20th June, 1625. Er. St. AlbaN.
LETTERS FROM THE LAMBETH LIBRARY,
NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.*
Good my Lord,
Procure the warrant for my discharge this day.
Death, I thank God, is so far from being unwel-
come to me, as I have called for it (as Christian
resolution would permit) any time these two
months. But to die before the time of his ma-
jesty's grace, and in this disgraceful place, is
even the worst that could be ; and when I am
dead, he is gone that was always in one tenor, a
true and perfect servant to his master, and one
that was never author of any iminoderate, no, nor
unsafe, no, (I w'ill say it,) not imfortunate coun-
sel ; and one that no temptation could ever make
other than a trusty, and honest, and Christ-loving
friend to your lordship ; and howsoever I acknow-
ledge the sentence just, and for reformation sake
fit, the justest chancellor that hath been in the
five changes since Sir Nicholas Bacon's time.
God bless and prosper your lordship, whatsoever
become of me.
Your lordship's true friend, living and dying,
Fr. St. Alban.
Tower, 31st May, 1C21.
Endorsed,
To the Marquis of Buckingham, from the Tower.
EDWARD FRANKLIN TO LORD ST. ALBAN.f
Sir, — You falsify the common proverb : Out
of sight, out of mind. Distance of place makes
• MS. Gibson, Lambeth Library, 936, fol. 147, Orig.
t MS. Gibson, Lambeth Lib. 936, fol. 210, Orig.
Vol. Ill 22
no divorce of your love; but present or absent
you baulk no opportunity for my good. I shall
never deserve your love unless that which is
mental may requite that which is real ; and that
good prayers may be balanced with good deeds.
Touching the present overture, (the errand of
your letters,) though there be a great conflict
within myself, yet nor must nor will 1 hold jou in
long suspense. Though I could content myself
with the obscure condition of my country fortune,
yet should I not neglect and slight the fair oppor-
tunities of my bettor preferment. It is a sullen,
stoical humour, not to be drawn out of a dark
retired corner into the warm and open sunshine.
But I cannot resolve on the sudden : my present
aflTairs being somewhat involved and perplexed.
Respite me (I pray) but till the funeral ; and then
(God willing) I shall visit London, and give up
my determinate and satisfactory answer. Mean-
while, I desire my thankful love maybe tendered
to that honest Mr. Hatcher. So J rest a devoted
homager to your virtues; or (if you suspect a
compliment) Your assured friend,
Ed. Franklin.
Crcssingham, April 30, 1625.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKlNGIIAM.t
My very good Lord,
Your lordship's formfer letter was honourable,
this later is kind and loving; wherein I took
much comfort. This I protest to God, who
* Addit. MS. Mils. Brit. S.iO."!, fol. 100 b.
+ MS. Gibson, Lambinh Lib. 936, fol. 210, Orig
P
170
LETTERS FROM THE LAMBETH LIBRARY.
knoweth tli>-* secrets of hearts, that I do not think
there was ever a son of Ada.n who wished more
prosperity to another that was a subject than I
have done and do to your lordship; and, as low
as I am, I had rather sojourn iri a college than
recover a fortune by any other but yourself.
Marry, to recover you (if I have not) or to cease
you of doing any thing for me wherein you would
not be seen, I would use any man.
God preserve and prosper your grace. I rest.
Endorsed,
To Buckingham.
t. meautys to lord st. alban.*
My all honoured Lord,
Upon the first reading of your lordship's, re-
ceived this day, I had almost put pen to paper to
ask your pardon for having (as I supposed) too
rudely broken open a letter intended to another,
some more deserving friend or servant of yours,
(for, by the infinite disproportion between the
noble favours therein expressed, and my disability
any way to merit, 1 could not otherwise conjec-
ture ;) but, upon second cogitations, remembering
it to be incident to heroic natures and spirits to
measure out and confer their graces and favours
according to the latitude and dimensions of their
own noble and capacious hearts, and not accord-
ing to the narrower span and scantling of others'
merits; and calling to mind that this is not the
first time by many, that your lordship hath pointed
me out as an instance hereof, by your singular
and accumulated favours, I come now, instead of
asking pardon for a supposed error of my own, to
render unto your lordship all humble acknowledg-
ment for a wilful, or rather, willing error of yours,
in so overprizing the poor endeavours of your
unprofitable servant.
Next, I take leave to say somewhat of what
we say here, arising as well from abroad as at
home; viz. that, upon later and more certain
advertisement out of Germany, it is found the
blow given to the imperialists was far greater,
both for numbers, being at least 20,000, and for
quality of the persons, than was first reported.
Tilly himself being mortally wounded, and
escaping to a town, called Holverstat, some miles
distant, was pursued by the King of Sweden,
wl)o, being advertised that he was dead, and that
his body was newly taken thence, to be conveyed
by a guard of 1500 horse to the Duke of Bavier's
court, instantly went after them, and in a few
hours overtook them, defeated the whole troops,
and brought back the corpse to Holverstat, where
it remains in the town house, a spectacle of the
divine revenge and justice, for the bloody execu-
tion cf Mackdeburgh. On Sunday, at Hampton
♦".-ourt, the States' ambassador here resident, at a
• jMS. Gibson, Lambeth Lib. 936, foL 202.
solemn and public audience in the presence, sung
us in effect an old song to a new tune, for his
errand was only a formal relation of the passages
of that achievement and defeat in the Low Coun-
tries, (wherein, by the way, I heard not any mention
at all of my Lord Craven's prowess, though some
say he expects a room in the next Gazette.) The
ambassador, in magnifying of the victory, when
he had said as we thought enough, concluded
with that which was more than all he had said
before; namely, in resembling it, both for the
extent of the design, the greatness and expense
in the preparation and manner of the deliverance,
to that of the invasion in eighty-eight. At home
we say, Mr. Attorney-General is past hope of
being Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, for
he is assured of it; and, by the like reason, my
Lord Richardson is past all fear of being removed
to the King's Bench. The attorney's place is
now in competition only between Noye and
Banks, for Sir .Tohn Finch is out at all, and
Banks is the likeliest to carry it. St. George
was less beholden this year than ever, either to
the lords of the order or to the other lords, there
being only present those in the margin. So,
praying your lordship to believe that I have more
room in my heart than in my paper for my devo-
tion and service to your lordship, my most
honoured lord and lady, and all my noble ladies
and especial friends, I rest
Your lordship's to serve you,
T. M.
October IL
Your commands to Mr. Maxwell I performed at
Windsor on Monday was sevennight. Pardon
this scribble, for my candle winks upon me to
hasten to an end, and my maid Mary is a bed
and in her first sleep, and very wayward if she
be waked.
Lord Chamberlain, Lord Treasurer-
Lord Marshal,
Lord Salisbury,
Lord Carlisle,
Lord Holland,
Lord Dorset,
Lord Andover,
Lord Lindsey,
Lord Boxborough,
Lord Monmouth,
Lord Goring,
Lord Doncaster,
Lord Dunluce.
Endorsed,
For your noble self, my most honoured lord.
trastlation of the latin letter to count
gonuomar.*
Excellent Count,
I do first, as I ought, congratulate with you
your new honour, which, though great in itself, it
is much greater because it was given you upon so
' • MS. Gibson, Lambeth Lib. 936, fol. 184 d.
LETTERS FROM MALLET.
171
noble a ground. The repair of Mr. Matthew, my
true friend, as your lordship well knoweth, into
these parts, makes me call to mind those great
and singular favours, which upon your noble
visits, which both in field and town, by his means
and appointment, your lordship vouchsafed me a
little before your departure, and the great endea-
vours which your lordship used both with the
king and the marquis for my fortunes. At that
time, if one had whispered me in the ear and said,
stay these things ; England is a cold country ;
defer them till the Prince of Wales, and the Mar-
quis of Buckingham, and the Count Gondomar
meet in Spain, where fruits ripen faster, 1 should
have smiled at it. But since your lordship hath
had power to work these miracles in a public
fortune, it is a much less matter for you to work
a miracle* in the fortune of a private friend. And
since your lordship hath power, and I have faith,
a miracle is soon wrought, if your lordship think
it worth the stretching forth your noble hand.
Having written so lately to your lordship, I
shorten this letter, only desiring your lordship to
give Mr. Matthew the same freedom to propound
or advise with your lordship concerning my busi-
ness, as heretofore you have vouchsafed ; and
resting
TO HIS VERY LOVING FRIENDS, THE PARISIIIO
EUS AND FEOFFEES FOR THE POOR OF THE
PARISH OF ST. ALLDATS, IN OXFORD.
After my hearty commendations, I send you
here enclosed a copy of an order made by the late
lord chancellor, my predecessor, in the cause
depending in Chancery between Edmond Blyth,
plaintiiT, against .Tohn Phillips and others, defend-
ants, and formerly directed by his lordship's let-
ters unto you, to show cause why a decree made
by commissioners for charitable purposes should
not be confirmed by decree of the Chancery,
which hitherto you have not done ; and, therefore,
it was desired that it might be decreed accord-
ingly, which I have forborne to do, but have
thought fit to recontinue the said order, and to
renew the said letters unto you, requiring you to
show good cause by the second return of the next
term, why the commissioners' decree should not
be confirmed, otherwise the plaintiff is to have
his lease decreed as he hath desired. So, wish-
ing you due respect herein, I bid you fare-
well.
Your loving friend,
Fr. Verulam.
From York House, this 13th of Feb., 1619.
LETTERS FROM MALLET.
to the lord viscount villiers.
It may please your Lordship,
I pray let his majesty understand, that although
my lord chancellor's answer, touching the dis-
mission of the farmer's cause, was full of respect
and duty, yet I would be glad to avoid an express
signification from his majesty, if his majesty may
•otherwise have his end. , And therefore I have
thought of a course, that a motion be made in open
court, and that thereupon my lord move a com-
promise to some to be named on eittier part, with
bond to stand to their award. And as I find this
to be agreeable to my lord chancellor's disposi-
tion, 80 I do not find but the farmers and the other
party are willing enough towards it. And there-
fore his majesty may be pleased to forbear any
other letter or message touching that business.
God ever keep your lordship.
Your lordship's true and most devoted servant,
♦ Fr. Bacon.
January 23, 1616.
to the earl of buckingham.
My very good Lord,
I know your lordship hath a special care of
any thing that concerneth the queen. She was
* The remainder is in Lord B.icon's hand.
entered into dislike of her solicitor, this bearer.
Mr. Lowder, and resolute in it. To serve, and
not to please, is no man's condition. Therefore,
upon knowledge of her pleasure he was willino
to part with his place, upon hopes not to be des-
tituted, but to be preferred to one of the barons'
places in Ireland. I pray move the king for him,
and let his majesty know from me that I think
(howsoever he pleased not here) he is fit to do
his majesty service in that place ; he is grave and
formal, which is somewhat there, and sufficient
enough for that place. The queen hath made Mr.
Hackwell her solicitor, who hath for a long time
taken much pains in her business, wherein she
hath done well. He was an opposite in Parlia-
ment, as Jones was, that the king hath made
Chief Justice of Ireland. But I hold it no ill
counsel to join, or to remove such men God
])reserve and prosper you.
Your true and devoted friend and servant,
Whitehall, May 2,-,, 1617. FrA. Bacon, C. S.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
My MOST HONOURABLE LoRD,
I acquainted his majesty with your letter, at
the first opportunity after I received it, who wa*
172
.ErrERS FROM MALLET.
very well pleased with that account of your care-
lul and speedy despatch of business, &c.
Yours, &C. G. BuCKINGhAM.
Greenwich, iMay 13, 1619.
P. S. Your business had been done before
this, but I knew not whether you would have the
attorney or solicitor to draw it.
TO MY VERY LOVING FRIENDS, SIR THOMAS
LEIGH, AND SIR THOMAS PUCKERING, KNIGHTS
AND BARONETS.
After my hearty commendations, being in-
formed by the petition of Mr. Thomas Porten, a
poor Y'orkshireman, of a heavy accident by fire,
whereby his house, his wife, and a child, together
with all his goods, were utterly burnt and con-
sumed ; which misfortune the petitioner sug-
gests, with much eagerness, was occasioned by
the wicked practices and conjurations of one John
Clarkson of Knowington, in the county of War-
wick, and his daughter, persons of a wandering
condition; affirming, for instance, that one Mr.
Hailes of Warwick did take from the said Clark-
son, certain books of conjuration and witchcraft.
That the truth of the matter may be rightljr
known, and that Clarkson and his daughter, if
there be ground for it, may an.swer the law ac-
cording to the merit of so heinous a fact, I have
thought good to wish and desire you to send for
Clarkson, and his daughter; and as upon due
examination you shall find cause, to take orders
for their forthcoming, and answering of the mat-
ter at the next assize for the county of York ; and
also to confer with Mr. Hailes, whether he took
from the said Clarkson any such book of conjura-
tion, as the petitioner pretends he did, and to see
them in safe custody. Whereupon I desire to be
certified how you find the matter; and your doing
thereupon. So, not doubting of your special care
and diligence herein, I bid you heartily farewell,
and rest
Your very loving friend,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
Vork House, May 15, 1619.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
Your lordship, I know, and the king both, might
think me very unworthy of that I have been, or
that I am, if I should not by all means desire to
be freed from the restraint which debarreth my
approach to his majesty's person, which I ever so
much loved and admired ; and severeth me like-
wise from all conference with your lordship,
which is m.y second comfort. Nevertheless, if it
be conceived that it may be matter of inconveni- 1
ence, o' envy, my particular respects must give
place ; only in regard of my present urgent occa-
sions, to take some present orde for tlie debts
that press me most. I have petitioned his; majes-
ty to give me leave to stay at London till the
last of July, and then I will dispose of my
abode according to the sentence. I have sent
to the prince to join with you in it, for, though
the matter seem small, yet it importeth me much.
God prosper you.
Y'our lordship's true servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
June 20, 1621.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I thank God I am come very well to Gorham-
bury, whereof I thought your lordship would be
glad to hear sometimes. My lord, I wish myself
by you in this stirring world, not for any love tu
place or business, for that is almost gone with me,
but for my love to yourself, which can never cease
in Y^our lordship's most obliged friend
and true servant, Fr. St. Alban.
Being now out of use, and out of sight, I re-
commend myself to your lordship's lo^'e and
favour, to maintain me in his majesty's grace and
good intention.
to the duke of buckingham.
Excellent Lord,
I have received the warrant, not for land, but
for the money, which, if it may be speedily
served, is sure the better; for this I humbly kiss
your grace's hands. But because the exchequer
is thought to be somewhat barren, although I have
good affiance of Mr. Chancellor, yet I hold it very
essential, and therein I most humbly pray your
grace's favour, that you would be pleased, by
your letter, to recommend to Mr. Chancellor the
speedy issuing of the money by this warrant, as
a business whereof your grace hath an especial
care ; the rather, for that I understand from him,
there be some other warrants for money to private
suitors at this time on foot. But your ^race may
be pleased to remember this difference, that the
other are mere gifts; this of mine is a bargain,
with an advance only.
I most humbly pray your grace likewise to pre-
sent my most humbl^thanks tohis majesty. God
ever guide you by the hand. I ahvays rest
Y^our faithful and more
and more obliged servant,
Fr. St. Alban
Gray's Inn, this 17th of November, 1024.
I most humbly thank your grace for your
grace's favour to mjf honest, deserving servant.
LETTERS FROM STEPHExNS.
173
TO THE LORD ST. ALBAN.
M V NOBLE Lord,
The hearty affection I have borne to your per-
son and service, hath made me ambitious to be a
messentrer of good news to you, and an eschewer
of ill ; this hath been the true reason why I have
been thus long in answering you, not any negli-
gence in your discreet, modest servant jfou sent
with your letter, nor his who now returns you
this answer, oftlimes given me by your master
and mine; who, though by this may seem not to
satisfy your desert and expectation, yet, take the
word of a friend, who will never fail you, hath a
tender care of you, full of a fresh memory of
your by-past service. His majesty is but for the
present, he says, able to yield unto the three
years' advance, which, if you please to accept,
you are not hereafter the farther off from obtain-
ing some better testimony of his favour, worthier
both of him and you, though it can never be an-
swerable to what my heart wishes you, as
Your lordship's humble servant,
G. Buckingham.
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
TO THE KING.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
According to your commandment, I send en-
closed the Preface to the Patent of Creation of
Sir George Villiers. I have not used any glaring
terms, but drawn according to your majesty's
instructions, and the note which, thereupon, I
framed, and your majesty allowed, with some ad-
ditions, which I have inserted. But I hope your
majesty will be pleased to correct and perfect
it. Your majesty will also be pleased to
remember, that if the creation shall be at
Roughford, your pleasure and this draught be
speedily returned; for it will ask a sending
of the bill for your majesty's signature, and
a sending back of the same to pass the seals,
and a sending thereupon of the patent itself: so
it must be twice sent up and down before the day.
God evermore preserve your majesty.
Your majesty's most devoted,
and most bounden servant,
Fr. Bacon.
Jury 28, Ifil6.
of that business before the end of the term. And
so I rest
Your faithful friend at command,
George Villiers.
Newmarket, Nov. 19, 1616.
TO SIR FRANCIS BACON, IMS MAJESTY'S ATTOR-
NEY-GENERAL.
Sir, — I have acquainted his majesty with your
letter, and the other papers enclosed, who liketh
very well of the course you purpose, touching
the manifest to be published of Bertram's fact,
and will have you, according to your own motion,
advise with my lord chancellor of the manner of it.
His majesty's pleasure likewise is, that, according i
to the declaration he made before the lords of his
council, at Whitehall, touching the review of my
Lord Coke's reports, you draw a warrant ready
for his signature, directed to those judges whom I
he then named to that etTect, and semi it speedily
to him to be signed, that there may be a despatch
to the earl of buckingham.
My singular good Lord,
When I heard your lordship was dead, I
though I had lived too long. That was (to tell
your lordship truly) the state of my mind upon
that report. Since, I hear it was an idle mis-
taking of my Lord Evers, for my Lord Villiers:
God's name be blessed, that you are alive to do
infinite good, and not so much as sick or ill dis-
posed for any thing I now hear.
I have resigned the prince's seal, and my
Lord Hobart is placed. I made the prince laugh,
when I told him I resigned it with more comfort
than I received it; he understanding me that I
had changed for a better: but after I had given
him that thought, I turned it upon this, that I left
his state and business in good case, whereof I
gave him a particular account.
The queen called upon me for the matter of he
house, wherein your lordship and my Lord
Chamberlain and I dealt, and received his ma-
jesty's direction, so that I shall prepare a wi^r-
rant, first to my lord treasurer and Mr. Chancel-
lor, (for that is the right way) to advise how to
settle it by assiirnment, in case she survive hin
majesty, which I hope in God she shall not.
Her desire was expressly and of herself, that
when I had prepared a warrant to be sent to his
majesty, I should send it by your lordship's
hand's.
We sit in council, that is all I can yet say
Sir John Denham is not come, upon whose com-
ing the king shall have account of our consult?-
p -3
174
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
lions touching Irolanrl, which we cannot, con-
clude, till we have spoken with him. God ever
preserve and prosper you.
It grieveth me much, that I cannot hear enough
of his majesty's good disposition of health, and
his pleasures, and other ordinary occurrences of
his journey : I pray your lordship will direct Mr.
Packer to write to me sometime, of matters of
that kind. 1 have made the like request to Sir
Edward Villiers, by whom I write this present,
to whose good affection I think myself beholden,
as I do also esteem him much for his good parts,
besides his nearness to your lordship, which
bindeth me above all.
Your lordship's most faithful
and devoted friend and servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S
April 7, 1617.
I derstand the place of a chancellor, but done him
, much right also, in giving notice unto those that
I were present, that you had received such instruc-
tions from his majesty ; whose honour will be so
much the greater, in that all men will acknow-
ledge the sufficiency and worthiness of his ma-
jesty's choice, in preferring a man of such abili-
ties to that place, which, besides, cannot but be a
great advancement and furtherance to his service.
And I can assure your lordship, that his majesty
was never so well pleased, as he is with this
account you have given him of this passage.
Thus, with the remembrance of iny service,
I rest
Your lordship's ever at command,
G. Buckingham.
Edinburgh, May 18, 1616.
to the earl of buckingham.
My Singular good Lord,
I pray your lordship to deliver to his majesty
the enclosed.
I send your lordship, also, the warrant to my
lord treasurer and Mr. Chancellor of the Exche-
quer for the queen's house,* it is to come again
to the king, when the bill is drawn for the let-
ters patents; for this is only the warrant to be
signed by his majesty.
I asked the queen whether she would write to
your lordship about it; her answer was very
modest and discreet, that because it proceeded
wholly from his majesty's kindness and goodness,
who had referred it, it was not so fit for her to
v/rite to your lordship for the despatch of it, but
she desired me to thank your lordship for your
former care of it, and to desire you to continue
it: and withal she desireth your lordship not to
press his majesty in it, but to take his best times.
This answer (because I like it so well) I write
to you at large, for other matters I will write by
the next. God ever prosper you and pre-
serve you.
Your lordship's most faithful
and devoted friend and servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
London, April 19, 1617.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.
Mv honoured Lord,
1 have acquainted .lis majesty with your letter,
and the papers that came en-^losed, who is exceed-
ingly well satisfied with tnat account you have
given him therein, especially with the speech
you made at the taking of your place in the
f Chancery. Whereby his majesty perceiveth that
you have not only given proof how well you un-
* Somerset House.
TO THE LORD KEEPER.
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
His majesty commandeth me to write to your
lordship, that he wonders your hand being at that
letter of the lords of the council, which he saith
is a very blunt one: you have not besides sent
him some advice of your own, his majesty having
only entrusted you to sjieak with Sir Lionel
Cranfield about his estate.
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, Nov. 19, 1017.
TO THE EARL OF BUCKINGHAM.
My Lord : — How well I wish to Sir Gilbert
Haughton, himself, I dare say, doth not doubt,
partly out of mine own affection, and chiefly for
your lordship's affection towards him, which to
me is more than mine own. That the king should
make bargains of hope, when his treasure suf-
ficeth not for his own charge, I may not advise
for my dearest friends: for I am nailed to the
king's estate. But two things I shall assent
unto ; the one, that if the king can redeem his
works without charge of officers, I shall be glad
of it, both for the gentleman's sake, and because
I perceive the uniting of the alum works in the
king's hands is best: the other, that if his ma-
jesty be pleased to signify his pleasure to my
lord treasurer and me, that there be no forfeiture
taken by Banister, till the king shall advise of
this bargain, we will hold him to it. God pre-
serve and prosper your lordship. Your lordship, I
think, perceiveth both my scribbling and cursory
inditing, that I write in straits of business.
Your lordship's true friend
and devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S
York House, this 2Jth of Nov., 1617.
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
1.^
TO THE KINO.
M\Y IT PLEASC VOUR MaJKSTY,
Boiiifr yesterday assembled in council to pro-
ceed in tlie course we had begun, for retrench-
ment of your majesty's expenses; we received
your princely letters, whereby we are directed to
send to your majesty the names of the officers of
the excheijuer, custom-house, and auditors, out
of which you purpose to make choice of some to
be sub-committed to handle the mechanic and
laborious part of that which your majesty had
appointed to our care; we have, accordinor to our
duty, sent unto your majesty the names of the
several officers of your majesty in those places,
to be ordered as your wisdom shall think best to
direct. But withal, we thought it appurtenant to
our duties to inform your majesty how far we
have proceeded in the several heads of retrench-
ments by your majesty at your departure com-
mitted unto us, that when you know in what
estate our labours are, your judgment may
the better direct any further course, as shall be
meet.
The matter of the household was by us, some
days since, committed peremptorily to the officers
of the house, as matter of commandment from
your majesty, and of duty in them, to reduce the
expense of your house to a limited charge of fifty
thousand pounds by the year, besides the benefit
of the compositions; and they have ever since
painfully, as we are informed, travailed in it, and
will be ready on Sunday next, which was the day
given them, to present some models of retrench-
ments of divers kinds, all aiming at your majesty's
service.
In the point of pensions we have made a begin-
ning, by suspending some wholly for a time, and
of others of a third part ; in which course we are
still going on, until we make it fit to be presented
to your majesty ; in like manner the Lord Cham-
berlain, and the Lord Hay, did yesterday report
unto us, what their travail had ordered in the
wardrobe; and, although some doubt did arise
unto us, whether your majesty's letters intended
a stay of our labours, until you had made choice
of the sub-committee intended by you, yet, pre-
suuiing that such a course by sub-committee was
purposed rather for a furtherance than let to that
work, we did resolve to go on still, till your ma-
jesty's further directions shall come unto us ; and
then, according to our duty, we will proceed as
we shall be by your majesty commanded ; in the
mean time, we thought it our duty to inform your
majesty of what we have done, that neither your
m ijesty may conceive that we have been negli-
gent in those things which were committed unto
and praying to the Almighty for your long ; \
happy reign over us, we rest
Your majesty's most humble and obedient
subjects and servants,
G. Cant.
E. Worcester,
T. Arundel,
E. Wotton,
T. Lake,
F. Bacon, C.
Lennox,
W. Wallingford,
Dec. 5, 1017.
S.
James Hay,
Jul. Cj«:sar,
T. Suffolk,
Pembroke,
L. Elie",
T. Edmonues,
Enw. Coke,
C. Edmcndes.
to the lord chancellor.
My honourable Lord,
I have received your lordship's letters, wherein
I see the continuance of your love and respect to
me, in any thing I write to you of, for which I
give your lordship many thanks, desiring nothing
for any man but what you shall find just and
convenient to pass. I am very glad to understand
that there is so good hope of Sir Gilbert Hough-
ton's business, which I must needs ascribe to your
lordship's great favour toward him for my sake,
which I will ever acknowledge. If his majesty
at any time speak of the Lord Clifton's business,
I will answer according to that your lordship hath
written, &c.
Your lordship's fiiithful servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, the last of January, 1617.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
My honourable Lord,
I have acquainted his majesty with your letter
to me, and delivered likewise to him the letter
and other things directed to his majesty, who hath
commanded me to return this answer to them all.
First, for your memorial of your charge to the
judges, he liketh it so well, that he findeth no-
thing either to be added or diminished ; and was
so well satisfied therewith, that he accounteth it
needless to read the other papers, but sealed them
up again, and senileth them back to your lordship
without reading them. Only in the point of re-
cusants his majesty is of the quite contrary opi-
nion to you ; for though he would not by any
means have a more severe course held than his
laws appoint in that case, yet since the many
reasons why, there should be no mitigation above
that which his laws have enacted, and his own
conscience telleth him to be fit. As, first, the
us, nor your directions by your late letters hin-'i Papists in his kingdom have taken such heart
der or cast back that which is already so far pro- ; upon the commission given to Sir John Di<jby,
ceeded in. j touching the match with Spain, that they have
And so, humbly kissing your royal hands, | sent copies thereof privately up and down, apd
176
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
are so lifted up in their hopes of what they desire,
that his majesty cannot but take a more severe
course, as far as by his laws he may, than hitherto
he hath done. Besides, when they shall see a
harder hand carried toward them than hath been
accustomed, his majesty assureth himself they
will employ all their means to further the match,
in hope of mitigating of that severity when it shall
be accomplished. And though these reasons
were not, his majesty would account it a baseness
in a prince to show such a desire of the match, as
to slack any thing in his course of government,
much more in propagation of the religion he pro-
fesseth, for fear of giving hindrance to the match
thereby. And so, with many thanks for your
favours to my brother in his business, J rest
Your lordship's faithful servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, Feb. 8, 1617.
to the marquis of buckingham.
My very good Lord,
We have sat once upon the commission of trea-
sure to no ill purpose, as may appear by the ac-
count enclosed ; wherein his majesty will find no
preposterous issue of treasure. Mr. Chancellor
imagines well ; Coke seeks, and beats over, as
Will where it is not, as where it is ; Secretary
Naunton forgets nothing. I will look to bow
things to the true ends. God bless and prosper
his majesty and yourself.
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
July 25, 1618.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
What passed in your lordship's presence your
lordship can tell, touching the navy. The morrow
following we concluded in approbation of the
books, save in one point, touching the number
convenient for manning the ships, wherein the
number allowed by the commissioners had, in my
judgment, a little of the merchant ; for to measure
by so many as were. above dead pays, is no good
argument. For the abuse of dead pays is to be
amended, and not the necessary number abated.
Ir this his majesty may fall upon a middle pro-
portion between that of the commissioners and
that of the officers.
It were good, now the three books which we
have appointed to be engrossed into one ledger
book are affirmed, there were a short book of his
majesty's royal directions, and orders thereupon,
n>fracted.
For the commission of the treasury, I ppjouade
myself, they are of the first hoars that \':^e been
well spent in that kind. We have put those
particulars whereof his majesty gave us cnarge
into a way.
Bingley's information will be to good purpose,
and we find another of like nature revealed to
Mr. Secretary and myself. God ever prosper
you.
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Vekulam, Cane.
O^-libur 9, 1618.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
My Lor.D, — I have acquainted his majesty with
your letter, who giveth you thanks for your advice
to communicate the business of the Dutchmen to
the commissioners of the treasury, which his
majesty was before purposed to refer to them, as
it concerns his treasure, for the carriage of it;
and to your lordship and the rest named in your
letter, for the relation it hath to the law. For the
proposers of the suit, his majesty intendeth only
to reward their pains as may stand with his ser-
vice and his princely disposition, but to preserve
the main benefit himself: all that his majesty
would have your lordship to do for the present,
is to take order about the writ of ne exeant
regnum, to advise with his learned counsel what
course is to be taken, and if by a warrant from
his majesty, that your lordship send him a war-
rant to be signed, which shall be returned with
all speed. Of other things his majesty thinketh
it will be time enough to speak at his return to
London. In the mean time I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Hinchiiibroke, Oct. 21, 1618.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I have this morning received the petty roll for
the sheriffs. I received also the papers exhibited
by Sir Miles Fleetwood, which 1 will use to his
majesty's best service, and thereupon give account
to his majesty when time serveth.
My care, which is not dormant, touching his
majesty's service, specially that of treasure, (which
is Tiow summn summarum,') maketh me propound
to his majesty a matter, which, God is my wit
ness, 1 do without contemplation of friend or end<
but aiiimo redo.
If Sir Edward Coke continue sick, r keep in,
I fear his majesty's service will lantruish too, in
those things which touch upon law ; as the calling
in debts, recusants, alienations, defalcations, etc.
And this is most certain, tlrat in these new
diligences, if the first beginning cool, all will go
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
177
na.tk to the old bias. Therefore, it may please j
his inaj(>sty to ihiiik of it, whether there will not
he a kind of necessity to add my Lord Chief
lustice of P^niifland to the commissioners of trea-
sure. This I move only to the king and your
'•rdship, otherwise it is a thing ex non entibus.
God preserve and prosper you.
Your lordship's most faithful servant.
Fit. Verulam, Cane.
From the Star Chamber, Nov. 25, 1618.
I forget not Tufton's cause. All things stay,
and precedents are in search.
TO THE KING.*
*Iay it please your most excellent Majesty,
According to your majesty's pleasure, signified
0 us by ttie Lord Marquis Buckingham, we have
considered of the fitness and conveniency of the
gold and silver thread business, as also the profit
that may accrue unto your majesty.
We are all of opinion that it is convenient that
the same should be settled, having been brought
hither at the great charge of your majesty's now
agents, and being a means to set many of your
poor subjects on work ; and to this purpose there
was a former certificate to your majesty from
some of us with others.
And for the profit that will aiise, we see no
cause to doubt; but do conceive apparent likeli-
hood, that it will redound much to your majesty's
profit, which we esteem may be at the least ten
thousand pounds by the year ; and, therefore, in
a business of such benefit to your majesty, it
were good it were settled with all convenient
speed, by all lawful means that may be thought
of; which, notwithstanding, we most humbly
leave to your majesty's highest wisdom.
Your majesty's most humble
and faithful servants,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
H. Montagu,
Henry Yelverton.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
If T should use the Count de Gondomar's action,
I should first lay your last letter to my mouth in
token of thanks, and then to my heart in token
of contentment, and then to my forehead in token
of a perpetual remembrance.
* October 4, 1618. The Marquis of Buckingham writes
from Theobalds to the lord chancellor, that the king being
desirous to he satiafieil of the sold and silver thread business,
would have his lordship consull the lord chief justice, and
the attorney .ind solicitor-general therein.
Vol. IIL— 23
I send now to know how his majesty doth after
his remove, and to give you account, that yester-
day was a day of motions in the Chancery. This
day was a day of motions in the Star Chamber,
and it was my hap to clear the bar, that no man
was left to move any thing, which my lords were
pleased to note they never saw before. To-
morrow is a sealing day ; Thursday is the funeral
day ; so that I pray your lordship to direct me
whether I shall attend his majesty Friday or
Saturday. Friday hath some relics of business,
and the commissioners of treasure have appointed
to meet; but to see his majesty is to me above
all.
I have set down, de bene esse, Suffolk's cause,
the third sitting next term; if the wind suffer the
commission of Ireland to be sped. I ever more
and more rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
This llth May, 1619.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
My honourable Lord,
Your lordship hath sent so good news to his
majesty that I could have wished you had been
the reporter of it yourself; but seeing you camo
not, I cannot but give you thanks for employing
me in the delivering of that which pleased his
majesty so well, whereof he will put your lord-
ship in mind when he seeth you. I am glad we
are come so near together, and hoping to see you
at Windsor, I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
August 29th, 1019.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
My honourable Lord,
As I was reading your lordship's letter, his
majesty came, and took it out of my hands, when
he knew from whom it came, before I could read
the paper enclosed, and told me that you had
done like a wise counsellor; first setting down
the state of the question, and then propounding
the difficulties, the rest being to be done in its
own time.
I am glad of this occasion of writing to yowi
lordship, that I may now let your lordship under-
stand his majesty's good conceit and acceptation
of your service, upon your discourse with him ai
Windsor; which, though I heard not myself, yet
I heard his majesty much commend it, both for
the method and the affection you showed therein
to his affairs, in such earnest manner, as if you
178
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
inide it your only study and care to advance his
cajesty's service. And so I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Wanstead, September 9th, 1619.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
I have received your letters by both your ser-
vants, and have acquainted his majesty with them,
who is exceedingly pleased with the course you
have held in the Earl of Suffolk's business, and
holdeth himself so much the more beholden to
you, because you sent the letter of your own mo-
tion, without order or consent of the lords, where-
by his majesty is not tied to an answer. His
majesty hath understood by many how worthily
your lordship hath carried yourself both in this
and the Dutch business ; for which he hath com-
manded me to give you thanks in his name; and
seeth your care to be so great in all things that
concern his service, that he cannot but much
rejoice in the trust of such a servant, which is no
less comfort to
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, October 23d, 1619.
Endorsed,
On my Lord of Bucks, enclosing a letter of submis-
sion from wy Lord of Suffolk.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
My honourable Lord,
The news of this victory hath so well pleased
his majesty, that he giveth thanks to all ; and I,
among the rest, who had no other part but the
delivering of your letter, had my part of his good
acceptation, which he would have rewarded after
the Roman fashion with every man a garland, if
it had been now in use ; but after the fashion of
his gracious goodness, he giveth your lordship
thanks ; and would have you deliver the like, in
his majesty's name, to Sir Edward Coke and the
judges. Your news, which came the first, gave
his majesty a very good breakfast, and I hope his
health will be the better after it.
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
October 11th, 1619.
Endorsed,
Thanks on the Success in the Ore Tenus against
the Dutch.
to the marquis of buckingham.
My vcrv good Lord, .
I send the submission of Sir Thomas Laque,
drawn in such form as, upon a meeting with me
Qf the chief justices and the learned counsel, was
conceived agreeable to his majesty's meaning and
directions; yet, lest we should err, we thought
good to send it to his majesty. It is to be re-
turned with speed, or else there will be no day in
court to make it. God bless and prosper you. I
rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
November 2Sth, 1619. •
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
My honourable Lord,
I have acquainted his majesty with your lord-
ship's letter, and with the submission you sent
drawn for Sir Thomas Lake, which his majesty
liketh well, and, because he served him in so
honourable a place, is graciously pleased that he
niaketh submission in writing, so that my Lady
of Exeter be contented and the lords, whom his
majesty would have you acquaint therewith. And
so I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, 29ih Nov., 1619.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
We sentence to-morrow, but I write to-day,
because I would not leave the king in suspense.
I shall write not so good news as I would, but
better than I expected.
We met amongst ourselves to-day, which I
find was necessaiy more than convenient. I gave
aim that the meeting was not to give a privie
verdict, or to determine what was a good proof or
not a good proof, nor who was guilty or not
guilty, but only to think of some fit proportion of
the fines, that there might be less distraction in
the sentence, in a cause so scattered ; some would
have entered into the matter itself, but I made it
good and kept them from it.
I perceive the old defendants will be censured
as well as the new, (which was the goal,) and I
am persuaded the king will have a great deal of
honour of the cause. Their fines will be mode-
rate, but far from contemptible. The attorney
did very well to-day; I perceive he is a better
pleader than a director, and more eloquent than
considerate.
Little thinks the king what ado I have here,
but I am sure I acquit my trust. To-morrow I
will write particularly. God ever preserve you.
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
Tuesday Aftprnoon, this 7th Dec, 1619.
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
179
TO THE LORD CIIANCKLLOR
My Lord, — His majesty having seen in this
great business your exceeding care and diligence
in his service by the effect which hath followed
thereupon, hath commanded me to give you many
thanks in his name, and to tell you that he seeth
you play the part of all in all, &c.
Yours, &c.
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, the 10th December, 1619.
Endorsed,
In the Dutch Cause.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
To keep form, I have written immediately to
his majesty of Justice Croke's death, and send
your lordship the letter open, wishing time were
not lost. God preserve and prosper you.
Your lordship's ever,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
January 24th, 1619.
effect more than they can. But still it must be
remembered, that the stringing of the narp, nor
the tuning of it will not serve, except it be well
played on from time to time.
If his majesty's business or commandments
require it, I will attend him at Windsor, though
I would be glad to be spared, because quick airs
at this time of the year do affect me. At Lon-
don, and so at Theobalds and Hampton Court,
I will not fail, God willing, to wait upon his
majesty. Meanwhile I am exceeding glad to
hear his majesty hath been lusty and well this
progress. Thus, much desiring to see your lord-
ship, cujus amor tantum mihi crescit in horas, (as
the poet saith,) I ever remain
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr, Verulam, Cane.
Gorhambury, this 30th August, 1620.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I doubt not but Sir Giles Montpesson adver-
♦iseth your lordship how our revenue business
proceeds. I would his majesty had rested upon
the first names ; for the additionals, specially the
exchequer man, doth not only weaken the matter,
but weakeneth my forces in it, he being thought
to have been brought in across. But I go on, and
hope good service will be done.
For the commissions to be published in the
Star Chamber, for which it pleaseth his majesty
to give me special thanks, I will have special
care of them in time. God ever prosper you.
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr, Verulam, Cane.
February 10, 1619.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
One gave me a very good precept for the stone ;
that I should think of it most when I feel it
least. This I apply to the king's business,
which surely I revolve most when I am least in
action, whereof, at my attendance, I will give his
majesty such account as can proceed from my
poor and mean abilities, which as his majesty,
out of grace, may think to be more than they are,
so I, out of desire, may think sometime they can
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
The tobacco business is well settled in all
points. For the coals, they that brought the offer
to Secretary Calvert, do very basely shrink from
their words ; but we are casting about to piece it
and perfect it. The two goose quills. Maxwell
and Alured, have been pulled, and they have
made submissions in that kind which the board
thought fit : for we would not do them the honour
to require a recantation of their opinion, but an
acknowledgment of their presumption.
His majesty doth very wisely, (not showing
much care or dread to it,) yet really to suppress
this licentious course of talking and writing.
My old Lord Burghley was wont to say, that
the Frenchman, when he hath talked, he hath
done ; but the Englishman, when he hath talked,
he begins. It evaporateth malice and discontent
in the one, and kindleth it in the other. And
therefore, upon some fit occasion, I wish a more
public example. The king's states, if I should
now die and were opened, would be found at my
heart, as Queen Mary said of Calais; we find
additionals still, but the consumption goeth on.
I pray God give his majesty resolution, passing
by at once all impediments and less respects, to
do that which may help it, before it be irreme-
diable. God ever preserve and prosper your
lordship.
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane
July 23d, 1620.
I have stayed the thousand pounds set upon
Englefield, for his majesty, and given order Hn
levying it.
180
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I write now only a letter of thanks to his
majesty, for that I hear in my absence, he was
pleased to express towards me, (though unwor-
thy,) a great deal of grace and good opinion
before his lords ; which is much to my comfort,
whereunto I must ever impute your lordship as
accessary. I have also written to him what sig-
nification I received from Secretary Naunton, of
his majesty's will and pleasure, lest in so great a
business, there should be any mistaking.
The pain of my foot is gone, but the weakness
doth a little remain, so as I hope, within a day
or two, to have full use of it. I ever remain
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
October 2d, 1620.
Your majesty needeth not \o L.oubt but I suai.
carry the business with that secrecy which
appertaineth.
TO THE KING.
It may please your Majesty,
I thought myself an unfortunate man, that I
could not attend you at Theobald's. But I hear
that your majesty hath done, as God Almighty
useth to do, which is to turn evil into good, in
that your majesty hath been pleased upon that
occasion to express, before your lords, your gra-
cious opinion and favour towards me, which I
most humbly thank your majesty for, and will
aspire to deserve.
Secretary Naunton this day brought me your
pleasure in certain notes : that I should advise with
tlfe two chief justices, (old Parliament men,) and
Sir Edward Coke, (who is also their senior in that
school,) and Sir Randall Crewe, the last speaker,
and such other judges as we should think fit, touch-
ing that which might in true policy, without
packing or degenerate arts, prepare to a Parliament,
in case your majesty should resolve of one to be
held, and withal he signified to me some particu-
lar points, which your majesty very wisely had
deduced.
All your majesty's business is super cor meum,
for I lay it to heart, but this is a business secun-
dum cor meum ,■ and yet, as I will do your majesty
all possible good services in it, so I am far from
seeking to impropriate to myself the thanks, but
shall become omnibus omnia, (as St. Paul saith,)
lo attain your majesty's ends.
As soon as I have occasion, I will write to
your majesty touching the same, and will have
special care to communicate with my lords in
some principal points, though all things are not
ai first fit for the whole table. I ever rest
Your majesty's most bounden
and most devoted servant,
Fr. Verulam, Cane.
October 2d, 1620.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
My Lord : — I have acquainted his majesty with
your letter, and labour in his service, for which
he commandeth me to give you thanks, and to let
your lordship know, that he liketh exceeding
well your method held by the judges, which
could not be amended, and concurreth with you
in your opinions. First, touching the proclama-
tion, that it should be monitory and persuasive
rather than compulsive : and, secondly, that the
point concerning the persons, who should be
admitted and who dvoided, is fit to be kept
from the knowledge of the council table, aid to
be carried with all secrecy.
For the business of Ireland, his majesty had
heard of it before, and gave commandment to the
master of the wards, that it should be hastened
and set in hand with all speed, which his majesty
doubteth not but is done by this time. Touch-
ing your advice for a treasurer, his majestv is
very mindful of it, and will let you know as
much at his return, when he will speak further
with your lordship of it: and so I rest
Yours, &c.
G, Buckingham
Royston, Oct. 9th, 1620.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
My honourable Lord,
I have showed your letter and the proclamation
to his majesty, wlio expecting only, according as
his meaning was, directions therein for the well
ordering of the elections of the burgesses, findeth
a great deal more, containing matter of state, and
the reasons of calling the Parliament; whereof
neither the people are capable, nor is it fit for his
majesty to open unto them, but to reserve to the
time of their assembling, according to the course
of his predecessors, which his majesty intendeth
to follow. The declaring whereof, in the procla-
mation, would cut off the ground of his majesty's
and your lordship's speech at the proper time ;
his majesty hath, therefore, extracted somewhat
of the latter part of the draught you have sent,
j purposing to take a few days' space to set down
liimself what he thinketh fit, and to make it ready
against his return hither, or to Theobald's at the
furthest, and then to communicate it to your
lordship, and the rest of the lords. And so I rest
Yours, &c.
G. Buckingham.
Royston, Oct. 19th, 1620.
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
181
TO THE MARaUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
OlfR VERY GOOD LoRD,
We thought it our duty to impart to his majesty,
by your lordship, one particular of Parliament
husiness, which we hold it our part to relate,
though it he too high for us to give our opinion of it.
The officers that make out the writs of Parlia-
ment, addressed themselves to me, the chancellor,
to know whether they should make such a writ
of summons to the prince, giving me to under-
stand that there were some precedents of it, which
I. the chancellor, communicated with the rest of
the committees for Parliament business, in whose
assistance I find so much strengtii, that I am not
willing to do any thing without them. Where-
upon, we, (according to his majesty's prudent
and constant rule, for observing in what reigns
the precedents were.) upon diligent search, have
found as folio weth:
That King Edward I. called his eldest son
Prince Edward, to his Parliament, in the thirtieth
year of his reign, the prince then being about the
age of eighteen years ; and to another Parliament,
in the four-and-thirtieth year of his reign.
Edward III. called the Black Prince, his eldest
son, to his Parliament in the five-and-twentieth,
eight-and twentieth, and two-and-fortieth years of
his reign.
Henry IV. called Prince Henry to his Parlia-
ments in the first, third, eighth, and eleventh
years of his reign, the prince being under age in
the three first Parliaments ; and we find in par-
ticular, that the eighth year, the prince sat in the
Upper House in days of business, and recom-
mended a bill to the lords.
King Edward IV. called Prince Edward, his
son, to his Parliament, in anno 22 of his reign,
being within age.
King Henry VII. called Prince Arthur to his
Parliament in the seventh year of his reign,
Deing within age.
Of King Edward VI. we find nothing; his
years were tender, and he was not created Prince
of Wales.
And for Prince Henry, he was created Prince of
Wales during the last Parliament at which he lived.
We have thought it our duty to relate to his
majesty what we have found ; and, withal, that
the writs of summons to the prince are not much
differing from the writs to the peers ; for they run
'\nfide et H<rea7icia, and sometimes in Jide tthoma-
gio in quibus nobis tenemini, and after consilium
nobis impemuri circa ardua re^ni. Whereby it
should seem that princes came to Parliament, not
only in the days of solemnity, when they came
withrjut writ, but also on tlie days of sitting.
And, if it should be so, then the prince may vote,
and likewise may be of a committee of the Upper
House, and, consequently, may be of a conference
with the Lower House, and the like.
This might have been made more manifest 38
to the presence and acts of the prince in days of
sitting, if, through the negligence of officers, the
journal books of the Upper House of Parliament,
before the reign of King Henry VIII., were not
all missing.
All which we thought it appertained to our care
to look through, and faithfully to represent to his
majesty. And having agreed secrecy amongst
ourselves, and enjoined it to the inferior offi-
cers, we humbly desire to know his majesty's
pleasure, whether he will silence the question
altogether, or make use of it for his service, or
refer it to his council, or what other course he
will be pleased to take, according to his great
wisdom and good pleasure.
Tliis we have despatched the sooner, because
the writs of summons must have forty days dis-
tance from the first days of the Parliament. And
for the other parts of our accounts, his majesty
shall hear from us, by the grace of God, within
few days. Evermore praying for his majesty's
prosperity, and wishing your lordship much hap-
piness.
Your lordship's to be commanded,
Fr. Verulam, Cane,
H. Montagu,
Edw'. Coke,
Henry Hobarte,
Ran. Crew.
York House, Nov. 21st, 1620.
to the marquis of buckingham.
My very good Lord,
We have, these two days past, made report to
the board of our Parliament committee, upon re-
lation whereof, for some things we provide, for
some things we arm.
The king, by my lord treasurer's signification,
did wisely put it. upon a consult, whether the pa-
tents which we mentioned in our joint letters,
were at this time to be removed, by act of council
before Parliament. I opined, (but yet somewhat
like Ovid's mistress that strove, but yet as one
that would be overcome) that yes. My reasons :
That men would go better and faster to the
main errand.
That these things should not be staged, nor
talked of, and so the less fue. to the fire.
That in things of this nature, wherein the coun-
cil had done the like in former particulars (which
I enumerated) before Parliament, near Parliament,
during Parliament, the council were to keep their
wonted sentinel, as if they thought not of a Par
liament, to destroy in other patents, as conceal
ments.
The reasons on the other side v/ere.
That it would be thought but a humouring ot
the Parliament, (being now in the calends of a
Q
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
Parliament,) and that after Parliament they would
Pome up again.
That offered graces, by reason and experience,
'ose their thanks.
They that are to be suffered to play upon some-
thing, since they can do nothing of themselves.
That the choosing out of some things, when
perhaps their minds might be more upon other
things, would do no great effect.
That jformer patents, taken away by act of
council, were upon the complaints of particular
persons ; whereas now it should seem to be
done tanquam ex ufficio.
To this I yielded, though I confess I am yet a
little doubtful to the point of suavibus niodis. But
ii is true that the speech of these, though in the
Lower House, may be contemned ; and if way be
given to them (as 1 writ to your lordship of some
of them in my last) it will sort to your honour.
For other things, the lords have put them in a
very good way, of which I will give express ac-
count when I see his majesty, as also of other
observations concerning Parliament. For if his
majesty said well that when he knew the men and
the elections, he would guess at the success ; the
prognostics are not so good as I expected, occa-
sioned by the late occurrents abroad, and the
general licentious speaking of state matters, of
which I wrote in my last. God ever keep you.
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fb. Verulam, Cane.
Dec. 16, 1620
to the lord chancellor.
My honourable Lord,
As soon as his majesty's convenience would
permit, I have acquainted him with the draught
of the proclamation your lordship sent me by his
majesty's direction. His majesty liketh it in
every point so well, both in matter and form, that
he findeth no cause to alter a word in it, and
would have your lordship acquaint the lords of
the council with it, (though he assureth himself,
no man can find any thing in it to be changed,)
and to take order for the speedy setting it forth.
And so I rest
Yours, &c.
G. Buckingham.
Theobalds Dec. 21, 1620.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
I HAVE acquainted his majesty with your letter
and the enclosed, the matter which his majesty
hath been thinking upon for his speech, concerneth
both the points of the institution of a Parliament,
and of the end for which this is called ; yet his
majesty thinketh it fit that some extract be made
out of it, which needeth to be but very short, as
he will show you at his return.
Yours, &c.
G. Buckingham.
Theobalds, Jan. 19, 1620.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HIS VERY GOOD
LORDS, THE LORDS SPIRITUAL AND TEMPORAL
IN THE UPPER HOUSE OF PARLIAMENT AS-
SEMBLED.
Mv VERY GOOD LoRDS,
I humbly pray your lordships all to make a
favourable and true construction of my absence.
It is no feigning or fainting, but sickness both of
my heart and of my back, though joined with that
comfort of mind that persuadeth me that I am not
far from Heaven, whereof 1 feel the first-fruits.
And because, whether I live or die I would be
glad to preserve my honour and fame, so far as 1
am worthy ; hearing that some complaints of base
bribery are coming before your lordships, my re-
quests unto your lordships are :
First, That you will maintain me in your good
opinion, without prejudice, until my cause be
heard.
Secondly, That in regard I have sequestered
my mind at this time in great part from worldly
matters, thinking of my account and answers in
a higher court, your lordships will give me con-
venient time, according to the course of other
courts, to advise with my counsel, and to make
my answer; wherein, nevertheless, my counsel's
part will be the least : for I shall not, by the
grace of God, trick up an innocency with cavilla-
tions, but plainly and ingenuously (as your lord-
ships know my manner is) declare what I know
or remember.
Thirdly, That according to the course of justice,
I may be allowed to except to the witnesses
brought against me ; and to move questions to
your lordships for their cross-examinations; and
likewise to produce my own witnesses for the
discovery of the truth.
And lastly. That if there be any more petitions
of like nature, that your lordships would be
pleased not to take any prejudice or apprehension
of any number or muster of them, especially
against a judge, that makes two thousand orders
and decrees in a year, (not to speak of the courses
that have been taken for hunting out complaints
against me,) but that I may answer them accord-
ing to the rules of justice, severally and re-
spectively.
These requests, I hope, appear to your lord-
ships no other than just. And so thinking myself
happy to have so noble peers and reverend pre-
lates to discern of my cause ; and desiring no
privilege of greatness for subterfuge of guiltines.s ;
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
:h3
but meaning, as I said, to deal fairly and plainly
with your lordships, and to put myself upon your
honours and favours ; I pray God to bless your
counsels and persons. And rest
Your lordships' humble servant,
Fr. St. Alban, Cane.
March 19th, 1030.
TO THE KING.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
1 think myself infinitely bounden to your ma-
jesty, for vouchsafing me access to your royal
person, and to touch the hem of your garment. I
see your majesty imitateth him that would not
break the broken reed, nor quench the smoking
flax , and as 'your majesty imitateth Christ, so I
hope assuredly my lords of the Upper House will
imitate you, and unto your majesty's grace and
mercy, and next to my lords, I recommend myself.
It is not possible, nor it were not safe, for me to
answer particulars till I have my charge; which,
when I shall receive, I shall, without fig-leaves or
disguise, excuse what I can excuse, extenuate what
I can extenuate, and ingenuously confess what I
can neither clear nor extenuate. And if there be
any thing which I might conceive to be no offence,
and yet is, I desire to be informed, that I may be
twice penitent, once for my fault, and the second
time for my error, and so submitting all that I am
to your majesty's grace, I rest.
April 20, 1621.
TO THE KING.
It may please your Majesty,
It hath pleased God for these three days past,
to visit me with such extremity of headach upon
the hinder part of my head, fixed in one place,
that I thought verily it had been some imposthu-
mation; and then the little physic that I have
told me that either it must grow to a congelation,
and so to a lethargy, or to break, and so to a
mortal fever or sudden death; which apprehen-
sion, and chiefly the anguish of the pain, made
me unable to think of any business. But now
that the pain itself is assuaged to be tolerable,
I resume the care of my business, and therein
prostrate myself again, by my letter, at your
majesty's feet.
Your majesty can bear me witness, that at my
last so comfortable access, I did not so much as
move your majesty by your absolute power of
pardon, or otherwise, to take my cause into your
hands, and to interpose between the sentence of
the House. And according to my desire, your
majesty left it to the sentence of the House by
my lord treasurer's report.
But now, if not per oinnipntentiarn, as the divines
say, hv\t per potestatein suaviter dtsponentern, your
majesty will graciously save me from a sentence,
with the good liking of the House, and that cup
may pass from me, it is the utmost of my desires.
This I move with the more belief, because I
assure myself, that if it be reformation that is
sought, the very taking away of the seal, upon
my general submission, will be as much in
example, for these four hundred years, as any
further severity.
The means of this I most humbly leave unto
your majesty, but surely I should conceive, that
your majesty opening yourself in this kind to the
lords, counsellors, and a motion of the prince,
after my submission, and my lord marquis using
his interest with his friends in the House, may
atlect the sparing of the sentence; I making my
humble suit to the House for that purpose, joined
with the delivery up of the seal into your majes-
ty's hands. This is my last suit that I shall
make to your majesty in this business, prostrating
myself at your mercy-seat, after fifteen years'
service, wherein I have served your majesty in
my poor endeavours, with an entire heart. And,
as I presume to say unto your majesty, am still
a virgin, for matters that concern your person or
crown, and now only craving that after eight steps
of honour, I be not precipitated altogether.
But, because he that hath taken bribes is apt
to give bribes, I will go further, and present your
majesty with bribe; for if your majesty give me
peace and leisure, and God give me life, I will
present you with a good history of England, and
a better digest of your laws. And so concluding
with my prayers, I rest
Clay in your majesty's hands,
Fr. St. Albax.
May2, 1C21.
TO THE PRINCE OF WALES.
It may please your Highness,
When I called to mind how infinitely I am
bound to your highness, that stretched forth your
arm to save me from a sentence, that took hold
of me to keep me 'from being plunged deep in a
sentence, that hath kept me alive in your gracious
memory and mention since the sentence, pitying
me, as I hope I deserve, and valuing me far above
that I can deserve, I find my words almost
as barren as my fortunes, to express unto your
highness the thankfulness I owe. Therefore, I
can but resort to prayers to Almighty God t(.
clothe you with his most rich and precious bless-
ings, and likewise joyfully to meditate upon
those he hath conferred upon you already ; in that
he hath made you to the king your father a prin-
cipal part of his safety, contentment, and con-
tinuance; in yourself so judicious, accomplished,
and graceful in all your doings, with more virtues
in the buds, which are the sweetest that havft
been known in a young prince ot long time; witn
184
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
the realm so well beloved, so much honoured, as
it is men's daily observation how nearly you
approach to his majesty's perfections; how every
i'ay you exceed yourself; how, compared with
other princes, which God hath ordained to be
young at this time, you shine amongst them;
they rather setting off your religious, moral, and
natural excellenceo, than matching them, though
y 5u be but a second person. These and such
like meditations I feed upon, since I can yield
your highness no other retribution. And for my-
self, I hope by the assistance of God above, of
whose grace and favour I have had extraordinary
signs and effects during my afflictions, to lead
such a life in the last acts thereof, as, whether his
majesty employ me, or whether I live to myself,
1 shall make the world say that I was not unworthy
such a patron.
I am much beholden to your highness's worthy
servant. Sir John Vaughan, the sweet air and
loving usage of whose house hath already much
revived my languishing S])irits: I beseech your
highness, thank him for me. God ever preserve
and prosper your highness.
Your highness's most humble and
most bounden servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
June 1, 1621.
TO THE KING.
It mav please your most excellent Majesty,
I humbly thanK your majesty for my liberty,
without which timely grant, any farther grace
would have come too late. But your majesty,
that did shed tears in the beginning of my trouble,
will, I hope, shed the dew of your grace and
goodness upon me in the end. Let me live to
serve you, else life is but the shadow of death to
Your majesty's most devoted servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
June 4, 1621,
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
I heartily thank your lordship for getting me
out of prison ; and now my body is out, my
mind, nevertheless, will be still in prison, till I
may be on my feet to do his majesty and your
lordship faithful service. Wherein your lordship,
by the grace of God, shall find that my adversity
hath neither spent, nor pent my spirits. God
prosper you.
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fa, St. Alban.
ThDP 4 I6!k.
TO THE KING.
It may please your most excellent Majesty,
1 perceive, by my noble and constant friend,
the marquis, that your majesty hath a gracious
inclination towards me, and taketh care of me^
for fifteen years the subject of your favour, now
of your compassion, for which I most humbly
thank your majesty. This same nova creatura
is the work of God's pardon and the king's, and
since I have the inward seal of the one, I hope
well of the other.
Ular, saith Seneca to his master, magiiis ex-
emplis ; nee meas fortunx, sed tux. Demosthenes
was banished for bribery of the highest nature,
yet was recalled with honour; Marcus Livius
was condemned for exactions, yet afterwards
made consul and censor. Sexieca banished for
divers corruptions, yet was afterwards restored,
and an instrument of that memorable Quinquen-
nium Neronis. Many more. This, if it please
your majesty, I do not say for appetite of employ-
ment, but for hope that if I do by myself as is fit,
your majesty will never suffer me to die in want
or dishonour. I do now feed myself upon remem-
brance, how, when your majesty used to go a pro-
gress, what loving and confident charges you
were wont to give me touching your business.
For, as Aristotle saith, young men may be happy
by hope, so why should not old men, and seques-
tered men, by remembrance. God ever prosper
and preserve your majesty.
Your majesty's most bounden
and devoted servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
July 16, 1621.
TO THE LORD ST. ALBAN.
My honourable Lord,
I have delivered your lordship's letter of thanks
to his majesty, who accepted it very graciously,
and will be glad to see your book, which you pro-
mised to send very shortly, as soon as it cometh.
I send your lordship his majesty's warrant for
your pardon, as you desired it; but am sorry,
that in the current of my service to your lordship
there should he the least stop of any thing; yet
having moved his majesty, upon your servant's
intimation, for your stay in London till Christmas,
I found his majesty, who hath in all other occa-
sions, ami even in that particular already, to the
dislike of many of your own friends, showed with
great forwardness his gracious favour towards
you, very unwilling to grant you any longer liberty
to abide there; which, being but a small advan-
tage to you, would be a great and general distaste,
as you cannot but easily conceive, to the whole
state. And I am the more sorry for this refusal
of his majesty's falling in a time when I was a
suitor to your lordship in a particular concerning
.ETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
IP**
myself, wherein, though your servant insisted
turlher tlian, I am sure, would ever enter into
y.our thoughts, 1 cannot but take it as a part of a
faithful servant in him. But if your lordship, or
your lady, find it inconvenient for you to part with
the house, I would rather provide myself other-
wise than any way incommodate you, but will
never slack any thing of my affection to do you
service; whereof, if I have not yet given good
]>roof, I will desire nothing more than the fittest
OL-casion to show how much I am
Your lordship's faithful servant,
G. Buckingham.
October, 1C21.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
JNIy VERY GOOD Lord,
An unexpected accident maketh me hasten this
letter to your lordship, before I could despatch
Mr. Meautys ; it is that my lord keeper hath stayed
my pardon at the seal. But it is with good re-
spect; for hesaith it shall be private, and then he
would forthwith write to your lordship, and would
pass it if he received your pleasure ; and doth also
show his reason of stay, which is, that he doubt-
eth the exception of the sentence of Parliament is
not well drawn, nor strong enough, which, if it
be doubtful, my lord hath great reason. But sure
I am, both myself, and the king, and your lord-
ship, and Mr. Attorney meant clearly, and I think
Mr. Attorney's pen hath gone well. My humble
request to your lordship is, that, for my lord's
satisfaction, Mr. Solicitor may be joined with Mr.
Attorney, and if it be safe enough, it may go on;
if not it may be amended. I ever rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend,
and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
October 18, 1621.
to the lord st. alban.
My honourable Lord,
I have brought your servant along to this place,
in expectation of the letter from the lord keeper,
which your lordship mentioneth in yours, but
having not yet received it, I cannot make answer
to the business you write of; and, therefore,
th )ught fit not to detain your man here any longer,
having nothing else to write, but that I always
'est
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Hincticnbrook, Oct. 20, 1621.
TO THE LORD ST. ALBAN.
My NOBi.K Lord,
Now that I am provided of a house, I have
thought it congruous to give your lordship notice
Vol "' 24
thereof, that you may no lonsrer hang noon tho
treaty, which hath been between your lordship
anfl me, touching York House ; in which \ assure
your lordship I never desired to put you to tno
least inconvenience. So I rest
Your lordship's servant,
G. BUCKINGHAW.
TO THE LORD ST. ALBAN.
My Loud, — I am glad your lordship understandii
me so rightly in my last letter. 1 continue still in
the same mind, for, I thank God, I am settled to my
contentment ; and so I hope you shall enjoy yours
with the more, because I am so well pleased in
mine. And, my lord, I shall be very far from
taking it ill, if you part with it to any else, judg-
ing it alike unreasonableness to desire that which
is another man's, and to bind him by promise or
otherwise not to let it to another.
My lord, I will move his majesty to take com-
miseration of your long iiTiprisonment,* which, in
some respects, both yoir and I have reason to
think harder than the Tower; you for the help of
physic, your parley with your creditors, your con-
ference for your writings and studies, dealing
with friends about your business ; and I for this
advantage, to be sometimes happy in visiting and
conversing with your lordship, whose company I
am much desirous to enjoy, as being tied by an-
cient acquaintance to rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. BUCKINGHA.M.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
My very good Lord,
These main and real favours which I have lately
received from your good lordship in procuring my
liberty, and a reference of the consideration of my
release, are such as I now find, that in building
upon your lordship's noble nature and friendship,
I have built upon -the rock where neither winds
or waves can cause overthrow. I humbly pray
your lordship to accept from me such thanks a«
ought to come from him whom you have much com
forted in fortune, and much more comforted in
showing your love and affection to him, of wh'^'h
I have heard by my Lord of Faulkland, Sir Ed-
ward Sackville, Mr. Matthew, and otherwise
I have written, as my duty was, to his majesty,
thanks, touching the same, by the letter 1 here
put into your noble hands.
I have made also, in that letter, an offe.
to his majesty, of my service, for bringing into
better order and frame the laws of England.
The declaration whereof I have left with Sir Ed-
♦ Restraint from coming within the verge of Ihe court.
q2
IPO
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
ward Sackville, because i1 were no good manners
to clog his majesty, at this time of triumph and
recreation, with a husiness of this nature, so as
your lordship may be pleased to call for it to Sir
Edward Sackville, when you think the time
reasonable.
I am bold likewise to present your lordship
with a book of my History of King Henry VII.,
and now that, in summer was twelve months, I
dedicated a book to his majesty, and this last
summer, this book to the prince, your lordship's
turn is next; and this summer that cometh, if I
live to it, shall be yours. I have desired his ma-
jesty to appoint me the task, otherwise I shall
use my own choice, for this is the best retribution
I can make to your lordship. God prosper you.
i rest
Your lordship's most obliged friend
and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
Gorhambury, this 20th of March, 1621.
Endorsed,
To (he Right Honourable his very good lord, the
Lord Marquis of Buckingham, High Mrniral
of England.
to the king.
May it please your Majesty,
I acknowledge myself in all humbleness infi-
nitely bounden 'o your majesty's grace and good-
ness, for that, at the intercession of my noble and
constant friend, my lord marquis, your majesty
hath been pleased to grant me that which the
civilians say, is res inxstimabilis, my liberty ; so
that now, whenever God calleth me, I shall not
die a prisoner; nay, further, your majesty hath
vouchsafed to rest a second and iterate aspect of
your eye of compassion upon me, in the referring
the consideration of my broken estate to my good
lord the treasurer, which as it is a singular bounty
in your majesty, so I have yet so much left of a
late commissioner of your treasure, as I would be
sorry to sue for any thing that might seem immo-
dest. These your majesty's great benefits, in
casting your breati upon the waters, as the Scrip-
ture saith, because my thanks cannot any ways be
sufficient to attain, I have raised your progenitor
of famous memory, and now I hope of more
famous memory than before. King Henry VII.,
to give your majesty thanks for me; which work,
most humbly kissing your majesty's hands, I do
present. And because, in the beginning of my
trouble, when in the midst of the tempest I had a
kenning of the harbour, which I hope now, by
your majesty's favour, I am entering into, I made
K tender to your majesty of two works, a History
of England, and a Digest of your Laws, as I have
»»y d figure of pars pro toto performed the one, so
I havp. herewith sent your majesty, by way of an
ejis^ile 5i new offer of the other; but my desire is
farther, if it stand witV vour majesty's good plea-
sure, since now my study is my exchange, and
my pen my factor for the use of my talent, that
your majesty, who is a great master in theso
things, would be pleased to appoint me some
task to write, and that I should take for an oracle.
And because my Instauration, which I esteem my
great work, and do still go on with in silence,
was dedicated to your majesty, and this History
of King Henry VII., to your lively and excellent
image the prince, if now your majesty will be
pleased to give me a theme to dedicate to my
Lord of Buckingham, whom I have so much
reason to honour, I should with more alacrity
embrace your majesty's direction than my own
ciioice. Your majesty will pardon me for trou-
bling you thus long. God evermore preserve and
prosper you.
Your majesty's poor beadsman most devoted,
Fr, St. Alban,
GofhLimbury, this 20th March, 1621.
to the lord digby.
My very good Lord,
I now only'send my best wishes, to follow yoa
at sea and land, with due thanks for your late
great favours. God knows, whether the length
of your voyage will not exceed the size of my
hour-glass. But whilst I live, my affection to do
you service shall remain quick under the ashes
of my fortune.
TO THE LORD ST. ALBAN.
My Lord, — I have despatched the business
your lordship recommended to me, which I send
your lordship here enclosed, signed by his ma-
jesty, and have likewise moved him for your
coming to kiss his hand, which he is pleased you
shall do at Whitehall when he r^turneth ne>t
thither. In the mean time I rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, Nov. 13th, 1622.
I will give order to my secretary to wait upon
Sir John Suckling about your other business.
Endorsed,
My Lord of Bucks touching my warrant and
' access.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
Excellent Lord,
Though I have troubled your lordship with
many letters, oftener than I think I should, (save
that affection keepeth no account,) yet, upon the
repair of Mr. Matthew, a gentleman so much
LETTERS FROM STEPHENS.
187
your lordship's servant, and to me another my-
self, as your lordship best knoweth, you would
not have thought me a man alive, except I had
put a letter into his hand, and withal, by so faith-
ful and approved a man, commended my fortunes
afresh unto your lordship.
My lord, to speak my heart to your lordship, I
never felt my misfortunes so much as now : not
for that part which may concern myself, who
profit (I thank God for it) both in patience and in
settling mine own courses ; but when 1 look abroad
and see the times so stirring, and so much dis-
simulation and falsehood, baseness and envy in
the world, and so many idle clocks going in men's
heads, then it grieveth me much, that I am not
sometimes at your lordship's elbow, that I might
give you some of the fruits of the careful advice,
modest liberty, and true information of a friend
that loveth your lordship as I do. For, though
your lordship's fortunes be above the thunder and
storms of inferior regions, yet, nevertheless, to
hear the wind, and not to feel it, will make one
sleep the better.
My good lord, somewhat I have been, and much
I have read ; so that few things that concern states
or greatness, are new cases unto me : and there-
fore I hope I may be no unprofitable servant to
your lordship. I remember the king was wont
to make a character of me, far above my worth,
that I was not made for small matters : and your
lordship would sometimes bring me from his
majesty that Latin sentence, de miniinis non curat
lex,- and it hath so fallen out, that since my
retiring, times have been fuller of great matters
than before ; wherein, perhaps, if I had continued
near his majesty, he might have found more use
of my service, if my gift lay that way ; but that
is but a vain imagination of mine. True it is,
that as I do not aspire to use my talent in the
king's great affairs ; yet, for that which may con-
cern your lordship, and your fortune, no man
living shall give you a better account of faith,
industry, and affection than I shall. I must con-
clude with that which gave me occasion of this
letter, which is Mr. Mathew's employment to
your lordship in those parts, wherein I am verily
persuaded your lordship shall find him a wise and
able gentleman, and one that will bend his know-
ledge of the world (which is great) to serve his
majesty, and the prince, and in especial your
lordship. So I rest
Your lordship's most obliged
and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
Gray's Inn, this ISth of April, 1G23.
to the duke of buckingham.
Excellent Lord,
How much I rejoice in your grace's safe return
you will easily believe, knowing how well I love
you, and how much I need you. Tliere be many
thitigs in this journey, i)oth in the felicity and in
the carriage thereof, that 1 do not a little admire,
and wish your grace may reap more and more fruits
in continuance answerable to the beginnings;
myself have ridden at anchor all your gracij's
absence, and my cables are now quite worn. I
had from Sir Toby Mathew, out of Spain, a very
comfortable message, that your grace had said,
I should be the first that you would remember in
any great favour after your return ; and now
coming from court, he telleth me he had commis-
sion from your lordship to confirm it : for which
I humbly kiss your hands.
My lord, do some good work upon me, that I
may end my days in comfort, which, neverthe-
less, cannot be complete except you put me in
some way to do your noble self service, for I
must ever rest
Your grace's most obliged
and f\iithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
October 12, 1G23.
I have written to his highness, and had pre-
sented my duty to his highness to kiss his hands
at York House, but that my health is scarce yet
confirmed.
TO THE LORD ST. AI.BAN.
Mv Lord, — The assurance of your love makes
me easily believe your joy at my return; and if I
may be so happy as, by the credit of my place, to
supply the decay of your cables, I shall account
it one of the special fruits thereof. What Sir
Toby ]Matthew hath delivered on my behalf, I
will he ready to make good, and omit no oppor-
tunity that may serve for the endeavours of
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Royston, Oct. 14, 1623.
TO THE LORD ST. ALBAN
My HONOURABLE LoRD,
I have delivered your lordship's letter and your
book to his majesty, who hath promised to read
it over: I wish I could promise as much for thai
which you sent me, that my understanding of
that language might make me capable of those
good fruits, which I assure myself, by an implicit
faith, proceed from your pen ; but I will tell yon
in good English, with my thanks for your book,
that I ever rest
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. BUCKINGHA.M
Hinchenbrook, October 29. 1623.
188
LET1ERS FROA? STLPHhN >.
TO THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
KVCELLENT LoRD,
I send your grace for a parabien, a book of
mine, written first and dedicated to his majesty
in English, and now translated into Latin, and
enriched. After his majesty and his highness,
your grace is ever to have the third turn with me.
Vouchsafe, of your wonted favour, to present also
the king's book to his majesty. The prince's I
have sent to Mr. Endimion Porter. I hope your
grace (because you are wont to disable your
Latin) will not send your book to the Conde
d'Olivares, because he was a deacon, for I under-
stand by one, (that your grace may guess whom
I mean,) that the Conde is not rational, and I
hold this book to be very rational. Your grace
will pardon me to be merry, however, the world
goeth with me. I ever rest
Your grace's most faithful
and obliged servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
Gray's Inn, 22d October, 1023.
I have added a begging postscript in the king's
letter; for, as I writ before, my cables are worn
out, my hope of tackling is by your lordship's
means. For me and mine, I pray command.
TO THE LORD ST. ALBAN. '
My Lord, — I give your lordship many thanks
for the parabien you have sent me ; which is so
welcome unto me, both for the author's sake and
for the worth of itself, that I cannot spare a work
of so much pains to your lordship and value to
me, unto a man of so little reason and less art;
who if his skill in languages be no greater than
I found it in argum.ent, may, perhaps, have as
much need of an interpreter (for all his deaconry)
as myself; and whatsoever mine ignorance is
in the tongue, yet this much I understand in the
book, that it ig a noble monument of your love,
which T will entail to my posterity, who, I hope,
will both reap the fruit of the work, and honour
the memory of the author. The other book I
delivered to his majesty, who is tied here by the
feet longer than he purposed to stay.
For the business your lordship wrote of in your
other letters, I am sorry I can do you no service,
liaving engaged myself to Sir William Becher
before my going to Spain, so that I cannot free
myself, unless there were means to give him
hatiifaction. But I will ever continue
Your lordship's assured friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Kinchenbrook, Oct. 2Tlh, 1623.
to his majesty, the one for a full pardon, that f
may die out of a cloud ; the other for the transla-
tion of my honours after my decease. I hope his
majesty will have compassion on me, as he pro-
mised me he would. My heart telleth me that
no man hath loved his majesty and his service
more entirely, and love is the law and the prophets.
I ever rest
Your grace's most obliged
and faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
November 25th, 1623.
TO THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
Excellent Lord,
I send Mr. Parker to have ready, according to
lh<' speech I had with your grace, my two suits
TO THE LORD ST. ALBAN.
My Lord, — I have moved his majesty in your
suit, and find him very gracious inclined to grant
it; but he desireth first to know from my lord
treasurer his opinion and the value of it, to
whom I have written to that purpose this enclosed
letter, and would wish your lordship to speak
with him yourself for his favour and furtherance
therein, and for my part I will omit nothing that
appertaineth to
Your lordship's faithful friend and servant,
G. Buckingham.
Newmarket, 28th of January, 1623.
TO THE LORD ST. ALBAN.
Right honourable and my very noble Lord,
Mr. Doctor Rawley, by his modest choice, hath
much obliged me to be careful of him, when God
shall send any opportunity. And if his majesty
shall remove me from this see, before any such
occasion be offered, not to change my irf.entions
with my bishopric.
It true thatthose ancients, Cicero, Demosthenes,
and Plinius Secundus, have preserved their ora
tions (the heads and effects of them at least) anu
their epistles ; and I have ever been of opinion,
that those two pieces, are the principal pieces of
our antiquities: those orations discovering the
form of administering justice, and the letters the
carriage of the affairs in those times. P'or our
histories (or rather lives of men) borrow as much
from the affections and phantasies of the writers,
as from the truth itself, and are for the most of
them built together upon unwritten relations and
traditions. But letters written e re nata, and bear-
ing a synchronism or equality of time cum rebus
ijrpstis, have no other fault, than that which was
imputed unto Virgil, nihil peccat nisi, quod nihil
peccei, they speak the truth too plainly, and cast
too glaring a light for that age, wherein they
were, or are written.
Your lordship doth most worthily, therefore, in
preserving those two pieces, amongst the rest of
those matchless monuments you shall leave be*
LETTERS FROM MATHEWS.
189
Innd yoa ; considering that, as one age hath not
bred yoar experience, so is it not fit it should be
confinea to one age, and not imparted to the times
to come. For my part therein, I do embrace the
honour with all ihanktulness, and the trust im-
posed upon me, wiii all religion and devotion.
For those two lectures in natural philosophy,
and the sciences woven and involved with the
same; it is a great and a nob^e foundation, both
for the* use and the salary, and a foot that will
teach the age to come, to guess in part at the
greatness of that herculean mind which give them
their existence. Only your lordship may be ad-
vised for the seats of this foundation. The two
universities are the two eyes of this land, and
fittest to contemplate the lustre of this bounty;
these two lectures are as the two apples of these
eyes. An apple when it is single is an ornament,
when double a pearl, or a blemish in the eye.
Your lordship may therefore inform yourself if one
Sidley, of Kent, hath not already founded in Ox-
ford a lecture of this nature and condition. Bui
if Oxford in this kind be an Argus, I am sure
poor Cambridge is a right Polyphemus, it hatb
but one eye, and that not so steadily or artificial-
ly placed, but bunum est facile sui dijfusivum ;
your lordship being so full of goodness, will
quickly find an object to pour it on. That which
made me say thus much I will say in verse, tha\
your lordship may remember it the better,
Sola riiinosis slat Cantabrigia pannis
Atque inopi lingud disertas invucat ^rtes,
1 1 will conclude with this vow: Ueus, qui animum
isium tihi, animoisfi tentptts quam lungissimum
tribuat. It is the most affectionate prayer of
Your lordship's most humble servant,
Jo. Lincoln.
Buckden, last of December, 1025.
LETTERS FROM MATHEWS,
NOT BEFORE PUBLISHED.
SIR FRANCIS BACON, DESIRING A FRIEND TO DO
HIM A SERVICE.
Sir, — The report of this act, which I hope
will prove the last of this business, will probably,
by the weight it carries, fall, and seize on me.
And, therefore, not now at will, but upon necessity
it will become me to call to mind what passed ;
and (my head being then wholly employed about
invention) I may the worse put things upon the
account of mine own memory. I shall take
physic to-day, upon this change of weather, and
vantage of leisure; and I pray you not to allow
yourself so much business, but that you may have
time to bring me your friendly aid before night, &c.
speak like a critic) that I do perhaps indormia-
cere ,• or where 1 do iiidulgere genio ,- or where, in
fine, I give any manner of disadvantage to myself.
This, super tofam matcriam, you must not fail to
note, besides all such words and phrases as you
cannot like ; for you know in how high account I
have your judgment.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO A FRIEND, ABOUT READ-
ING AND GIVING JUDGMENT UPON HIS V^'RIT-
INGS
Sir, — Because you shall not lose your labour
this afternoon, which now I must needs spend
with my Lord Chancellor, I send my desire to
you in this letter, that you will take care not to
leave the writing which I left with you last with
any man so long as that he may be able to take a
copy of it; because, first, it must be censured by
you, and then considered again by me. The
tning which I expect most from you is, that you
would read it carefully over by yourself, and to
make some little in writing, where you think (to
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE SAME PERSON UPON
THE LIKE SUBJECT; VV^ITH AN ADDITION OF
CONDOLING THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.
Sir, — The reason of so much time taken before
my answer to yours of the fourth of August, was
chiefly my accompanying my letter with the
paper which here I send you; and again, now
lately (not to hold from you till the end of a letter
that which by grief may, for a time, efface all the
former contents,) the death of your good friend and
mine, A. B.; to whom, because I used to send my
letters for conveyance to you, it made me so much
the more unready in the despatch of them. Li
the mean time, I think myself (howsoever it haih
pleased God otiierwise to bless me) a most unfor-
tunate man, to be deprived of two (a great number
in true friendship) of those friends whom I ao
counted as no stage friends, but private friends,
(and such as with whom I might both freely and
safely communicate;) him by death, and yoj by
; absence. As for the memorial of the late deceased
i'jO
LETTERS FROM MATHEWS.
queen, I will not question whether you be to
}>ass for a disinterested man or no; I freely con-
fess myself am not, so I leave it. As for my
other writings, you make me very glad of your
approbation ; the rather because you add a con-
currence in opinion with others ; for else I might
have conceived that affection would, perhaps,
have prevailed with you, beyond that which (if
your judgment had been neat and free) you could
have esteemed. And as for your caution touch-
ing the dignity of ecclesiastical persons, I shall
not have cause to meet with them, any otherwise
than in that some schoolmen have, with excess,
advanced the authority of Aristotle. Other occa-
sion I shall have none. But now I have sent you
that only part of the whole writing which may
perhaps have a little harshness and provocation in
it, although I may almost secure myself that if
the preface passed so well this will not irritate
more ; being, indeed, to the preface but as palma
cidpugnum. Your own love expressed to me I
heartily embrace ; and hope that there will never
be occasion of other than entireness between us,
which nothing but majores charitates shall ever be
able to break off.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO A FRIEND, 3N REFLEC-
TION UPON SOME ASTROLOGERS IN ITALY.
Sir, — 1 write to you chiefly now to the end
that, by the continuance of my acquaintance with
you, by letters, you may perceive how much I
desire, and how much I do not despair of the re-
continuance of our acquaintance by conversation.
In the mean time, I wish you would desire the
astronomers of Italy to amuse us less than they
lo with their fabulous and foolish traditions, and
come nearer to the experiments of sense ; and tell
us that when all the planets, except the moon, are
beyond the line in the other hemisphere for six
months together, we must needs have a cold
winter, as •nq saw it was the last year. For,
understanding that this was general over all these
parts of the world, and finding that it was cold
weather with all winds, and namely west wind, I
imagined there was some higher cause of this
effect; though yet, I confess, I thought not that
ever I should have found that cause so palpable a
one as it proved : which yet, when I came quickly
afterwards to observe, I found also very clearly,
that the summer must needs be cold too; though,
yet, it were generally thought that the year would
make a shift to pay itself; and that we should be
sure to have heats for our cold. You see that
though I be full of business, yet I can be glad
rather to lay it all aside than to say nothing to
you. But I long much more to be speaking often
with you , and I hope I shall not long want my
wish
THE LORD OF ST. ALBANS, BACON, TO AN IIUM-
BLE SERVANT, MY LORD BELIEVING HIS OWN
DANCER 10 BE MUCH LESS THAN HE FOUNli IT.
Sir, — I say to you, upon the v^ccasion which
you give me in your last, mndicae Jiiei quure
dubitasli? 1 would not have my friends (though
I know it to be out of love) too apprehensive,
either of me, or for me. For I thank God, my
ways are sound and good, and I hope God will
bless me in them. When once my master, and
afterwards myself, were both of us in extremity
of sickness, (which was no time to dissemble,) I
never had so great pledges and certainties of his
love and favour : and that which I knew then,
such as took a little poor advantage of these latter
times, know since. As for the nobleman who
passed that way by you, I think he is fallen
out with me for his pleasure, or else, perhaps, to
make good some of his own mistakings : for he
cannot in his heart but think worthily of my
affection and well deserving towards him ; and as
for me, I am very sure that I love his nature and
parts.
MY LORD OF ST. ALBANS, BACON, TO THE SAME
HUMBLE SERVANT, EMPLOYING HIM TO DO A
GOOD OFFICE WITH ANOTHER GREAT MAN.
Sir, — I have received your letter, wherein you
mention some passages at large concerning the
lord you know of. You touched also that point
in a letter which you wrote upon my lord's going
over, which I answered ; and am a little doubtful
whether mine ever came to your hands. It is
true that I wrote a little sullenly therein; how I
conceived that my lord was a wise man in his
own way, and perhaps thought it fit for him to he
out with me; for, at least. I found no cause there-
of in myself. As for the latter of these points, I
am of the same judgment still ; but for the former,
I perceive, by what you write, that it is merely
some misunderstanding of his. And I do a little
marvel, at the instance which had relation to that
other crabbed man ; for I conceived that both in
passing that book, and (as I remember) two
more, immediately after my lord's going over, I
had showed more readiness than many times I
use in like cases. But, to conclude, no man hath
thought better of my lord than I have done. 1
know his virtues, and, namely, that he hath much
greatness of mind, which is a thing almost lost
amongst men ; nor can anybody be more sensible
and remembering than I am of his former favours,
so that I shall be most glad of his friendship ;
neither are the past occasions, in my opinion, such
as need either reparation or declaration, but may
well go under the title of nothing. Now, I had
rather you dealt between us than anybody else,
because you are no way drenched in any man's
humour. Of other things at another time; but
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
101
this I was forward to write, in the midst of more
business than ever 1 had.
THE LORD OF ST. ALBANS TO A MOST DEAR
FRIEND, IN WHOM HB NOTES AN ENTIRENESS
AND IMPATIENT ATTENTION TO DO IIIM SER-
VICE.
Sir, — Tt is not for nothing that I have deferred
my Essay de Amicitia^ whereby it hath expected
the proof of your jrreat friendship towards me.
Whatsoever tlie event be, (wherein I depend upon
God, who ordains the effect, the instrument, all,)
yet your incessant thinkinor of me, without loss
of a moment of time, or a hint of occasion, or a
circumstance of endeavour, or the stroke of a pulse j
in demonstration of your affection to me, doth infi-
nitely tie me to you. Commend my service to
my friend. The rest to-morrow, for I hope to
lodire at London this nij^ht, &c.
Secrecy I need not recommend, otherwise than
that you may recommend it over to our friend ;
both because it prevents opposition, and because
it is both the king's and my lord marquis's nature
to love to do things unexpected.
honour, in the opinion of all them who hear how
I am dealt with, if your lordship malice me for
such a cause, surely i* was one of the justest
businesses that ever was in Chancery. I will
avouch it; and how deeply I was tempted there-
in, your lordship knows best. Your lordship
may do well, in this great age of yours, to think
of your grave, as I do of mine, and to beware of
hardness of heart. And as for fair words, it is
a wind, by which neither your lordship nor any
man else can sail long. Howsoever, I am the
man who will give all due respects and reverence
to your great plac^, &c.
THE LORD ST. ALBANS TO TFIE LORD TREASURER
MARLBOROUGH, EXPOSTULATING ABOUT HIS
UNKINDNESS, AND INJUSTICE.
My Lord, — I humbly entreat your lordship, and
(if I may use the word) advise you to make me
a better answer. Your lordship is interested in
A LETTER OF SIR FRANCIS BACON TO A SERVANT
OF HIS, IN EXPRESSION OF GREAT ACKNOW-
LEDGMENT AND KINDNESS.
Sir, — I have been too long a debtor to you for
a letter, and especially for such a letter, the words
whereof were delivered by your hand, as if it had
been in old gold ; for it was not possible for
entire affection to be more generously and effec-
tually expressed. I can but return thanks to you :
or rather, indeed, such an answer as may better
be of thoughts than words. As for that which
may concern myself, I hope God hath ordained
me some small time whereby I may redeem the
loss of much. Your company w'as ever of con-
tentment to me, and your absence of grief; but
now it is of grief upon grief. 1 beseech you.
therefore, make haste hither, where you shall
meet with as good a welcome as your own heart
can wish.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
THE LORD BACON, mS LETTER TO THE MOST IL-
LUSTRIOUS, AND MOST EXCELLENT PRINCE
CHARLES, PRINCE OF WALES, DUKE OF CORN-
wall, earl of chester, &;c.*
It may please your Highness.
In part of my acknowledgment to your high-
ness, I have endeavoured to do honour to the
memory of the last King of England, that was
ancestor to the king, your father, and yourself,
and was that king to whom both unions may in
n sort refer, that of the roses being in him con-
summate, and that of the kingdoms by him
begun: besides, his times deserve it, for he was
• Third edition of Resuscitatio.
a wise man and an excellent king; and yet the
times very rough and full of mutations and rare
accidents : and it is with times as it is with ways,
some are more up hill and down hill, and some
are more flat and plain, and the one is better for
the liver, and the other for the writer. I have,
not flattered him, but took him to life as well as I
could, sitting so far off, and having no bette"^
light; it is true your highness hath a living paW
tern, incomparable, of the king your father; but it
is not amiss for you also to see it in one of these
ancient pieces. God preserve your highness
Your highness's most humble
and devoted servant,
FuANCis St. ALBvn
r92
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
MR. FRANCIS BACON TO MR. ROBERT CiSCII-.*
Sir : — I am very g-lad that the good affection
niid friendship, which conversation and familiari-
ty did knit between us, is not by absence and
intermission ot society discontinued; which
assureth me it had a farther root than ordinary
acquaintance. The sig-nification whereof, as it
is very welcome to me, so it maketh me wish,
that if you have accomplished yourself as well
in the points of virtue and experience, which you
sought by your travel, as you have won the per-
fection of the Italian tongue, I might have the
contentment to see you again in England, that
we may renew the fruit of our mutual good will;
which, I may truly affirm, is, on my part, much
increased towards you, both by your own demon-
stration of kind remembrance, and because I dis-
cern the like affection in your honourable and
nearest friends.
Our news are all but in seed ; for our navy is
set forth with happy winds, in token of happy
adventures, so as we do but expect and pray,
as the husbandman when his corn is in the
ground.
Thus, commending me to your love, I commend
you to God's preservation.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HIS VERY GOOD
LORD, THE LORD KEEPER OF THE GREAT
SEAL, &c.t
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
I was wished to be here ready in expectation
of some good effect ; and therefore I commend
my fortune to your lordship's kind and honoura-
ble furtherance. My affection inclineth me to be
much [your] lordship's, and my course and way, in
all reason and policy for myself, leadeth me to the
same dependence : hereunto if there shall be joined
your lordship's obligation in dealing strongly for
me as you have begun, no man can be more yours.
A timorous man is everybody's, and a covetous
nian is his own. But if your lordship consider
my nature, my course, my friends, my opinion
with her majesty, if this eclipse of her favour
were past, I hope you will^ think, I am no un-
jikely piece of wood to shape you a true servant
of. My present thankfulness shall be as much
as I have said. I humbly take my leave.
Your lordship's true humble servant.
Fr. Bacon.
From Greenwich, ttiis 5th of April, 1594.
* From the oriiinal (Iranjiht In the library of Queen's Col-
lojo, Oxford, Jlrrh. V. 2. This letter seems to be of a very
early date, and to have been written to Mr. Robert Cecil,
while he was upon his travels.
♦ Harl. MSS. vol. «097, No. 20.
TO THE RlfiHT HONOURABLE MY VERY GOOD
LORD, THE LORD KEEPER.*
Mv Lord: — I have, since I spake with your
lordship, pleaded to the queen against herself for
the injury siie doth Mr, Bacon in delaying him
so long, and the unkindness she doth me in
granting no better expedition in a suit which I
have followed so long, and so affectionately. And
though I find that she makes some dilliculty, to
have the more thanks, yet I do assure myself she
is resolved to make him. I do write this, not to
solicit your lordship to stand firm in assisting me,
because, I know, you hold yourself already tied
by your affection to Mr. Bacon, and by your pro-
mise to me; but to acquaint your lordship of my
resolution to set up my rest, and employ my
uttermost strength to get him placed before the
term: so as 1 beseech your lordship think of no
temporizing course, for I shall think the queen
deals unkindly with me, if she do not both give
him the place, and give it with favour and some
extraordinary advantage. I wish your lordship
ail honour and happiness, and rest
Your lordship's very assured,
Essex.
Greenwich, this 14tli of January, [1594.]
Endorsed,
My Lord of Essex for Mr. Fran. Bacon to be
solicitor.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HIS VERY GOOD
LORD, THE LORD KEEPER OF THE GREAT SEAL.f
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
Sir Thomas Egerton failing of your lordship,
being newly gone, .sent his letter to me to see
conveyed unto you, which I send enclosed ; de-
siring your lordship, according to your kind af-
fection, to make the best use thereof for my fur-
therance. And I pray your lordship to call to
remembrance my lord treasurer's kind course,
who aflirmed directly all the rest to be unfit.
And because vis unita fnrtior, I pray your lord-
ship to take a time with the queen when my lord
treasurer is present. Thus, in hope to-morrow
will bring forth some good effect, I rest
Your lordship's, in all humble
duty and service,
Fk. Bacon.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, &c., THE LORD
KEEPER, Sect
Mv VERY GOOD LoRD,
Because I understand your lordship remaineth
at court till this day, and that my Lord of Essex
* Harl. M.^S. vol. 6997, No. 87.
+ Harl. .MSS. vol. 6996, No. 52.
X Ibid. No. 50
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
193
\*rileth to me, that his lordship comelh to London,
1 thought good to remember your lordship, and
to retjuesl you, as 1 touched in my last, tliat if
inv lord treasurer be absent, your lordship would
foroear t-» fall into my business with her majesty,
lest it miojht receive some foil before the time
when it sliould be resolutely dealt in. And so
commeudiiiof myself to your good favour, 1 most
humbly take my leave.
Your lordship's in all
humble duty and service,
Fr. Bacon.
from Gray's Inn, this 8th
of April, 15M.
EARL OF ESSEX TO LORD KEEPER PUCKERING*
My Lord, — My short stay at the court made me
fail of speaking with your lordship; therefore, I
must write that which myself had told you; that
is, that your lordship will be pleased to forbear
pressing for a solicitor, since there is no cause
towards the end of a term to call for it; and, be-
cause the absence of Mr. Bacon's friends may be
much to his disadvantage. I wish your lordship
all happiness, and rest
Your lordship's very assured
to be commanded,
Essex.
M^nstead, this 4lh of May, 1594.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD
KEEPER, &c.
It may pleask your good Lordship,
I understand of some business like enough to
detain the queen to-morrow, which maketh me
earnestly to pray your good lordship, as one that
I have found to take my fortune to heart, to take
some time to remember her majesty of a solicitor
this present day.
Our Tower employment stayeth, and hath done
these three days, because one of the principal
offenders being brought to confess, and the other
persisting in denial, her majestj% in her wisdom,
thought best some time were given to him that is
obstinate, to bethink himself; which, indeed, is
singular good in such cases. Thus, desiringyoui
lordship's pardon, in haste I commend my fortune
and duty t'> your favour.
Your lordship's most humbly
to receive your commandments,
Fr. Bacon.
From Gray's Inn, this 13th
of August, 1594.
* Harl. MSS. vol. 6096, No. 72.
Vol. III.— 25
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD
KEEPER, &.C.*
It may please your good Lordship
As your lordship hath at divers times helped
me to pass over contrary times, so I humbly pray
you not to omit this favourable time. I cannot
bear myself as I should till I be settled. And
thus, desiring pardon, I leave your lordship to
God's preservation.
Y'our lordship's most humbly
at commandment,
Fr. Bacon.
From Gray's Inn, this 25th
of August, 1594.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HIS VERY GOOD
LOUUjTHE LORD KEEPER, &c.t
It may please your good Lordship,
I was minded, according to the place of em-
ployment, though not of office, wherein I serve,
for my better direction and the advancement of
the service, to have acquainted your lordship, now
before the term, with such her majesty's causes
as are in my hands. Which course, intended out
of duty, I do now find, by that I hear from my
Lord of Essex, your lordship of your favour is
willing to use for my good, upon that satisfaction
you may find in my travels. And I now send to
your lordship, together with my humble thanks,
to understand of your lordship's being at leisure,
what part of to-morrow, to the end I may aitend
your lordship, which, this afternoon, I catmot, in
regard of some conference I have appointed with
Mr. Attorney-General. And so I commend yo-ji
honourable lordship to God's good preservation
Your good lordship's humbly at
your honourable commandments,
Fr. Bacon.
From Gray's Inn, the 25th
of Sepieuiber, Friday.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD
KEEPER, &c.t
It may PLEASE YOUR LoRDSHlP,
I thought good to Step aside for nine days,
which is the durance of a wonder, and not for
any dislike in the world ; for I think her majesty
hath done me as great a favour in making an end
of this matter, as if she had enlarged me from
some restraint. And, I humbly pray your lord-
ship, if it so please you, to deliver to her majesty
from me, that I would have been glad to have done
her majesty service, now in the best of my years,
and the same mind remains in me still ; and tha'
• Harl. MSS. vol. 6996, No. 103. i '^ Vt. No 109
t Ibid. vol. 6607, No. 14.
R
\94
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
it may be, when her majesty hath tried others,
she will think of him that she hath cast aside.
For, I w)l] take it upon that which her majesty
hath often said, that she doth reserve me, and not
reject me. And so I leave your good loidship to
God's good preservation.
Your lordship's much bounden
Fr. Bacon.
From Twickoiiham Park, this.
20lhof May, 1595.
Endorsed,
Mr. Fr. Bacon, his contentaiion to leave the solicitor-
ship.
TO SIR GEORGE VILLIERS.*
Sir, — I think I cannot'do better service towards
the good estate of the kingdom of Ireland, than
to procure the king to he well served in the emi-
nent places of law and justice; I shall, therefore,
name unto you for the attorney's place there, or
for the solicitor's place, if the new solicitor shall
go up, a gentleman of mine own breeding and
framing, Mr. Edward Wyrthington, of Gray's
Inn ; he is born to eight hundred pounds a year ;
he is the eldest son of a most severe justicer
amongst the recusants of Lancashire, and a man
most able for law and speech, and by me trained
in the king's causes. My lord deputy, by my
description, is much in love with the man. I hear
my Loid of Canterbury and Sir Thomas Laque
should name one Sir .Tohn Beare, and some other
mean men. This man I commend upon my credit,
for the good of his majesty's service. God ever
preserve and prosper you. I rest
Your most devoted and
most bounden servant,
Fr. Bacon.
July 2, 1616.
TO THE MARQUIS OF BtJCKINGIIAM.f
My verv good Lord,
I write now only, rather in a kind of continu-
ance and fresh suit, upon the king's business,
than that the same is yet ripe either for advertise-
ment or advice.
The subcommissioners meet forenoon and after-
noon with great diligence, and without distraction
or running several ways; which if it be no more
than necessary, what would less have donel that
xs, if tlipre had been no subcommissioners, or they
not well ch.?sen.
I speak with Sir Lionel Cranfield as cause re-
quireth either for account or direction, and as far
as 1 can, by the taste I have from him, discern,
probably their service will attain, and may exceed
jiis majesty's expectation.
P'ephcns's second collection, p. 4
t Ibid.
I do well like the course they take, which is.
in every kind to set down, as in beer, in wine, in
beef, in muttons, in corn, &c., whatcometh to the
king's use, and then what is spent, and lastly
what may be saved. .This way, though it be not
so accusative, yet it is demonstrative. Nam rec-
tum est index sui et obliqui, and the false manner
of accounting, and where the gain cleaveth will
appear after by consequence. I humbly pray his
majesty to pardon me for troubling him with these
imperfect glances, which I do, both because I
know his majesty thinketh long to understand
somewhat, and lest his majesty should conceive,
that he multiplying honours and favours upon me,
I should not also increase and redouble my endea-
vours and cares for his service. God ever bless,
preserve, and prosper his majesty and your lord-
ship, to whom I ever remain
Your true and most devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon, C. S.
Jan. 16, 1617.
to the right honourable the lord
keeper, &lc.*
It may please your good Lordship,
Not able to attend your lordship myself before
your going to the court, by reason of an ague,
which offered me a fit on Wednesday morning,
but since, by abstinence, I thank God, I have
starved it, so as now he hath turned his back, I
am chasing him away with a little physic, I
thought good to write these few A^ords to your
lordship ; partly to signify my excuse, if need
be, that I assisted not Mr. Attorney on Thursday
last in the Star Chamber, at which time, it is
some comfort to me, that I hear by relation some-
what was generally taken hold of by the court
which I formerly had opened and moved ; and
partly to express a little my conceit touching the
news which your lordship last told me from the
queen, concerning a condition in law knit to an
interest, which your lordship remembereth, and
is supposed to be broken by misfeyance. Wiierein
surely my mind, as far as it appertaineth to me,
is this, that as I never liked not so much as the
coming in upon a lease by way of forfeiture, so I
am so much enemy to myself as I take no con-
tentment in any such hope of advantage. For
as your lordship can give me best testimony, that
I never in my life propounded any such like mo-
tion, though I have been incited thereto ; so the
world will hardly believe, but that it is underhand
quickened and nourished from me. And, truly,
my lord, I would not be thought to supplant any
man for great gain ; and I humbly pray your lord-
ship to continue your commendations and coun-
tenance to me in the course of the queen's service
that I am entered into: which, when it shal'
♦ Harl. MSS. vol. 6997, No. 18.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
193
please God lo move the queen to profit,* I hope _
shall give cause for your lordship to ohtairi as ;
many thanks as you have endured chidings.
And so I commend your good lordship to God's
good preservation.
Your lordship's most humbly
at your honourable commandment,
Fr. Bacon.
From Gray's Inn, the 11th of .Tune, 1595
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD
KEEPER, &c.t
It may please your Lordship,
There hath nothing happened to me in the
course of my business more contrary to my ex-
pectation, than your lordship's failing me, and
crossing me now in the conclusion, when friends
are best tried. But now I desire no more favour
of your lordship, than I would do if I were a suitor
in the Chancery ; which is this only, that you
would do me right. And I, for my part, though I
have much to allege, yet, nevertheless, if I see
her majesty settle her choice upon an able man,
such a one as Mr. Serjeant Fleming, I will make
no means to alter it. On the other side, if I per-
ceive any insufficient, obscure,:^: idol man offered
to her majesty, then I think myself double bound
to use the best means I can for myself; which I
humbly pray your lordship I may do with your
favour, and that you will not disable me farther
than is cause. And so I commend your lord-
ship to God's preservation.
That beareth your lordship all humble respect,
Fr. Bacon.
From Gray's Inn, the 28th of July, 1595.
Endorsed, in lord keeper's hand,
Mr. Bacon wronging me.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD
KEEPER, &c.$
It may please your Lordship,
I thought it became me to write to your lord-
ship, upon that which I have understood from my
Lord of Essex, who vouchsafed, as I perceive, to
deal with your lordship of himself to join with
him in theconcludingof my business, and findeth
your lordship hath conceived offence, as well upon
my manner when I saw your lordship at Temple
last, as upon a letter, which I did write to your
lordship some time before. Surely, my lord, for
my behaviour, I am well assured, I omitted no
point of duty or ceremony towards your lordship.
But I know too much of the court to beg a coun-
tenance in public place, where I make account I
shall not receive it. And for my letter, the prin-
cipal point of it was, that which I hope God will
»/. Perfect. + Harl. MSS. vol. 6997, No. 37.
Jlta. MSS.
} Harl. MSS. vol. 6997, No 44.
give me grace to perform, which is, that if any
idol may be offered to her majesty, since it is
mixed with my particular, to inform her majesty
truly, which I must do, as long as I have a tongue
to speak, or a pen to write, or a friend to use.
And farther I remember not of my letter, except
it were that I writ, I hoped your lordship would
do me no wrong, which hope I do still continue.
For if it please your lordship but to call to mind
from whom I am descended, and by whom, next
to God, her majesty, and your own virtue, your
lordship is ascended ; I know you will have a
compunction of mind to do me any wrong. And,
therefore, good my lord, when your lordship
favoureth others before me, do not lay the separa-
tion of your love and favour upon myself. For I
will give no cause, neither can 1 acknowledge
any, where none is ; but humbly pray your lord-
ship to understand things as they are. Thus,
sorry to write to your lordship in an argument
which is to me unpleasant, though necessary, I
commend your lordship to God's good pre-
servation.
Your lordship's, in all humble respect,
Fr. Bacon.
From Twickenham Park, this 19th of August, 1595.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD KEEPER,
&c.*
It may please your good Lordship,
I am sorry the opportunity permitteth me not
to attend your lordship as I minded. But I hope
your lordship will not be the less sparing in using
the argument of my being studied and prepared
in the queen's causes, for my furtherance upon
belief that I had imparted to your lordship my
travels, which some time next week I mean to do.
Neither have I been able to confer with Mr. At-
torney, as I desired, because he was removing
from one building to another. And, besides, he
alleged his note book was in the country, at ,
and so we respited it to some time next week. I
think he will rather do me good offices than other-
wise, except it be for the township your lordship
remembereth by the verse. Thus I commend
your honourable lordship to God's good preserva-
tion.
Your lordship's most humble
at your honourable commandment,
Fr. Bacon
From Gray's Inn, this 25th of September, 1595.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE MY GOOD LORI>,
THE LORD KEEPER OF THE GREAT SEAL OF
ENGLAND.!
It may PLEASE YOUR GOOD LoRDSHlP,
My not acquainting your lordship hath pre
ceeded of my not knowing any thing, and of my
* Harl. MSS. vol. 6997, No. 59. + ^^- No. «»
196
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
not knowing of my absence at Byssam with my
Lady Russel, upon some important cause of her
son's. And as I have heard nothing, so I look
for nothing, though my Lord of Essex sent me
word, he would not write till his lordship had
good news. But his lordship may go on in his
affection, which, nevertheless, myself have desired
him to limit. But I do assure your lordship, I
can take no farther care for the matter. I am now
at T\Tickenham Park, where I think to stay : for
her majesty placing a solicitor, my travel shall
iiot need in her causes, though, whensoever her
majesty shall like to employ me in any particu-
lar, I shall be ready to do her willing service.
This I write lest your lordship might think my
silence came of any conceit towards your lord-
ship, which, 1 do assure you, I have not. And
this needed I not to do, if I thought not so : for
my course will not give me any ordinary occasion
to use your favour, whereof, nevertheless, I shall
ever be glad. So I commend your good lordship
to God's holy preservation.
Your lordship's humble, &c.
Fr. Bacon.
This 11th of October, 1595.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD KEEPER,
&;c.*
It may please your good Lordship,
I conceive the end already made, which will, I
trust, be to me a beginning of good fortune, or at
least of content. Her majesty, by God's grace,
shall live and reign long, she is not running
away, I may trust her. Or whether she look
towards me or no, I remain the same, not altered
in my intention. If I had been an ambitious man,
it would have overthrown me, but minded as I
am, Revertet henedictio niea insinum meum. If I
had made any reckoning of any thing to be stirred,
I would have waited on your lordship, and will
be at any time ready to wait on you to do you
service. So I commend your good lordship to
God's holy preservation.
Your lordship's most humble,
at your honourable commandment,
Fr. Bacon.
From Twickenham Park, this 14th of October.
Endorsed, 14th October, 95.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD KEEPER,
&c.t
AU VERY GOOD Lord,
I refeived a letter from a very friend of mine,
•"••rquesting- me to move your lordship to put into
ihc commission for the subsidy, Mr. Richard
lv^'mpe, a reader of Gray's Inn, and besides born
to good estate, being also my friend and familiar
' Harl. MSt<. vol. 6997, No. 61. f Ibid. No. 29.
acquaintance. And because I conceive the gen-
tleman to be every way sortable with the service,
I am bold to commend him to your lordship'.''
good favour. And even so, with remembranco
of my most humble duty, I rest
Your lordship's affectionate to do you
humble service,
Fr. Bacon.
Twickenham Park, July 3, 1595.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD KEEPEE,
&c.*
My Lord, — In my last conference with your
lordship, I did entreat you both to forbear hurting
of Mr. Fr. Bacon's cause, and to suspend your
judgment of his mind towards your lordship, till
I had spoken with him. I went since that time
to Twickenham Park to confer with him, and had
signified the effect of our conference by letter ere
this, if I had not hoped to have met with your
lordship, and so to have delivered it by speech. I
told your lordship when I last saw you, that this
manner of his was only a natural freedom, and
plainness, which he had used with me, and in my
knowledge with some other of his best friends,
than any want of reverence towards your lord-
ship ; and therefore I was more curious to look
into the moving cause of his style, than into the
form of it ; which now I find to be only a diffi-
dence of you-r lordship's favour and love towards
him, and no alienation of that dutiful mind which
he hath borne towards your lordship. And there-
fore I am fully persuaded, that if your lordship
would please to send for him, there would grow
so good satisfaction, as hereafter he should enjoy
your lordship's honourable favour in as great a
measure as ever, and your lordship have the use
of his service, who, I assure your lordship, is as
strong in his kindness, as you find him in his
jealousy. I will use no argument to persuade
your lordship, that I should be glad of his being
restored to your lordship's wonted favour; since
your lordship both knoweth how much my credit
is engaged in his fortune, and may easily judge
how sorry I should be, that a gentleman whom I
love so much, should lack the favour of a person
whom I honour so much. And thus commending
your lordship to God's best protection, I rest
Your lordship's very assured,
Essex.
Endorsed, 31 August, 95.
My Lord of Essex to have me send for Mr. Bacon,
for he will satisfy me. In my lord keeper's own
hand.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD
KEEPER, &c.t
My very good Lord,
The want of assistance from them which should
be Mr. Fr. Bacon's friends, makes [me] the more
* Harl. MSS. vol. 6997, No. 47. * 1*>id. No. 106.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
19:
I
imliistrKniri myself, anc! the more earnest in soli-
citinor mine own friends. Upon ine the labour
must lie of his establishment, and upon me the
disgrace will light of his being- refused. There-
fore I pray your lordship, now account me not as
a solicitor only of my friend's cause, but as a
party interested in this; and employ all your i
lordship's favour to me, or strength for me, in j
procuring a short and speedy end. For though I
know, it will never be carried any other way, yet
1 hold both my friend and myself disgraced by
this protraction. More I would write, but that I
know to so honourable and kind a friend, this
which I have said is enough. And so I commend
your lordship to God's best protection, resting,
At your lordship's commandment,
[No date.]
Essex.
A LETTER TO DR. MORISON,* A SCOTTISH PHY
SICIAN, UPON HIS MAJESTY'S COMING IN.
Mr. Doctor Morison,
I have thought good by this my letter to renew
this my ancient acquaintance which hath passed
between us, signifying my good mind to you, to
perform to you any good office, for your particular
and my expectation, and a firm assurance of the
like on your part towards me : wherein I confess
yon may have the start of me, because occasion hath
given you the precedency in investing you with
opportunity to use my name well, and by your
loving testimony to further a good opinion of me
in his majesty, and the court.
But I hope my experience of matters here will,
with the light of his majesty's favour, enable me
speedily both to requite your kindness, and to
acquit and make good your testimony and report.
So not doubling to see you here with his majesty,
considering that it belongeth to your art to feel
pulses, and I assure you Galen doth not set down
greater variety of pulses than do vent here in
men's hearts, I wish you all prosperity, and
jemain Yours, &c.
From my Chamber at Gray's Inn, &c., 1603.
and to tell you truly, my meaning was not that
the suit of this other gentleman, Mr. Temple,*
should have been moved in my name. For 1
should have been unwilling to have moved his
majesty for more than one at once, though many
times in his majesty's courts of justice, if we
move once for our friends, we are allowed to
move again for our fee.
But indeed my purpose was, that you might
have been pleased to have moved it as for myself.
Nevertheless, since it is so far gone, and that
the gentleman's friends are in some expectation
of success, I leave it to your kind regard what is
farther to be done, as willing to give satisfaction
to those which have put me in trust, and loath on
the other side to press above good manners. And
so, with my loving commendations, I remain
1003. Yours, &c.
A LETTER TO MR. MURRAY, OF THE KING'S BED-
CHAMBER.
Mr. Murray,
It is very true that his majesty most graciously,
at my humble request, knighted the last Sunday
my brother-in-law, a towardly young gentleman ;]"
for which favour I think myself more bound to
his majesty, than for the benefit of ten knights:
• He had held a correspondence vvitli Mr. Anthony Bacon,
and was employed to tind intelligence from Scotland to the
Earl of Essex.— See Memoirs of the Rei<rn of Queen Elizabeth,
from the year 1581 till her death, vol. i. p. 79. 109. 116.
t To this Sir .John (;onstable, Sir Francis Bacon dedicated
the second edition of his Essays, published at London, 1612,
TO MR. MATTHEW.+
Sir, — I perceive you have some time when you
can be content to think of your friends ; from
whom, since you have borrowed yourself, you do
well, not paying the principal, to send the interest
at six months' day. The relation, which here
I send you enclosed, carries the truth of that which
is public : and though my little leisure might have
required a briefer, yet the matter would have en-
dured and asked a larger.
I have now, at last, taught that child to go, at
the swaddling whereof you were. My work
touching the Proficiency and Advancement of
Learning I have put into two books; whereof the
former, which you saw, I cannot but account as a
page of the latter. I have now published them
both ; whereof I thought it a small adventure to
send you a copy, who have more right to it than
any man, except Bishop Andrews, who was my
inquisitor.
The death of the late great judge concerned not
me, because the other was not removed. I write
this in answer to your good wishes, which I re-
turn not as flowers of Florence,:^ but as you mean
them ; whom I conceive place cannot alter, no
more than time shall me, except it be for the better.
1005.
TO MY LADY PACKINGTON, IN ANSWER TO A
MESSAGE BY HER SENT.J
Madam, — You shall with right good will be
made acquainted with any thing that concerneth
♦ Probably Mr. William Temple, who had been educated
HI King's College, Cambridge, then master of the free srhoo;
at Lincoln, next successively secretary to Sir Philip Sidney,
Secretary Davison, and the Earl of Essex, made provost of
Dublin College in 1609, and at last knighted, and appointe<l
one of the masters in chancery in Ireland. He died about
1626, at the age of 72.
t Sir Tobie Matthew's Collection of Letters, p. 11.
t Mr. Matthew wrote an elegy on the Duke of Florence**
felicity.
J From an old copy of Sir Francis Bacon'* Letfera.
r2
198
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
your daughters, if you bear a mind of love and
oncord, otherwise you must be content to be a
rtranger unto us ; for I may not be so unwise as
to suffer you to be an author or occasion of dis-
sension between your daughters and their hus-
bands, having seen so mucli misery of that kind
in yourself.
And above all things I will turn back your
kindness, in which you say, you will receive my
wife if she be cast off; for it is much more likely
we have occasion to receive you being cast olf, if
you remember what is passed. But it is time to
make an end of those follies, and you shall at this
time pardon me this one fault of writing to you ;
for I mean to do it no more till you use me and
respect me as you ought. So, wishing you better
than it seemeth you will draw upon yourself, I
rest, Yours,
Fr. Bacon.
TO SIR THOMAS BODELEY, AFTER ifE HAD IM-
PARTED TO HIM A WRITING, ENTITLED, COGl-
TATA ET VISA.*
Sir, — In respect of my going down to my house
in the country, I shall have miss of my papers,
which I pray you therefore to return unto me.
You are, I bear you witness, slothful, and you
help me nothing : so as I am half in conceit that
you affect not the argument, for myself, I know
well, you love and affect. I can say no more to
you, but non canimus siirdis, respondent omnia
sylvx. If you be not of the lodgings chalked up,
whereof I speak in my preface, I am but to pass
by your door. But if I had you a fortnight at
Gorhambury, I would make you tell me another
tale; or else I would add a cogitation against
libraries, and be revenged on you that way. I
pray you send me some good news of Sir Thomas
Smith, and commend me very kindly to him.
So I rest.
TO THE KING.t
It may pleask your excellent Majesty,
Mr. St. John his day is past, and well past.
I hold it to be Janus Bifrons; it hath a good
aspect to that which is past, and to the future;
and doth both satisfy and prepare. All did well ;
rny lord chief justice delivered the law for the
benevolence strongly ; I would he had done it
timely. Mr. Chancellor of the Exchequer:}: spake
* Rawley's Resiiscitatio.
t Ibid
t The cnancenor of the exchequer here meant, was Sir
Fiilke Greville, who, beir.g early initiated into the court of
Uiieen Elizabeth, became a polite and fine gentleman ; and,
111 the 18th of King James, was created Lord Brooke. He
elected a noble monument for himself on the north side of
Wiirwick ch\irch, which hath escaped the late desolation,
with this well known inscription: "Fulke Greville, servant
finely, somewhat after the manner of my late \o--a
privy seal;* not all out so sharply, but as t;e
gantly. Sir Thomas Lake, who is also new >n
that court, did very well, familiarly and counsel
lor-like.f My lord of Pembroke, who is liktv
wise a stranger there, did extraordinary well,
and became himself well, and had an evident
applause.:}: I meant well also; and because my
information was the ground ; having spoken out
of a few heads which I had gathered, for I seldon.
do more, I set down, as soon as 1 came home,
cursorily, a frame of that I had said ; though I
persuade myself I spake it with more life. I
have sent it to Mr. Murray sealed ; if your ma-
jesty have so much idle time to look upon it, it
may give some light of the day's work : but I
most humbly pray your majesty to pardon the
errors. God preserve you ever.
Your majesty's most humble subject,
and devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon.
April 29, 1615.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO KING JAMES.}
It MAY PLEASE YOUR MOST EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
It pleased your majesty to commit to my care
and trust for Westminster Hall three particulars;
that of the rege inconsulto, which concerneth
Murray; that of the commendams, which con-
to Queen Elizabeth, counsellor to King James, and friend to
Sir Philip Sidney." Nor is he less remembered by the monu-
ment he has left in his writings and poems, chiefly composed
in his youth, and in familiar exercises with the gentleman I
have before mentioned. — Stephens.
* Late Earl of Northampton.
t Sir Thomas Lake was about this time made one of the
principal secretaries of state, as he had been formerly Latin
secretary to Queen Elizabeth, and, bef^'e thnt time, brecf
under Sir Francis Walsingham. But, in the year 1018, fall-
ing into the king's displeasure, and being engaged In the
quarrels with his wife and daughter, the Lady Roos, will";
the Countess of Exeter, he was at first suspended from the
execution of his place, and afterwards removed, and deeply
censured and fined in the Star Chamber; although it is said
the king then gave him, in open court, this public eulogy, that
he was a minister of state fit to serve the greatest prince in
Europe. Whilst this storm was hanging over his head, he
writ many lettess to the king and the Marquis of Bucking-
ham, which I have seen, complaining of his misfortune, that
his ruin was likely to proceed from the assistance he gave to
his nearest relations. — Stephens.
X William, Earl of Pembroke, son to Henry Herbert, Earl
of Pembroke, Lord President of the Council in the marches ■
of Wales, by Mary his wife, a lady in whom the muses and
graces seemed to meet; whose very letters, in the judgment
of one who saw many of them, declared her to be mistress
of a pen not inferior to that of her brother, the admirable Sir
Philip Sidney, and to whom he addressed his Arcadia. Nor
did tliis gentleman degenerate from their wit and spirit, as
his poems, his great patronage of learned men, and resolule
opposition to the Spanish match, did, among other instances,
fully prove. In the year 1616, he was made lord chamber-
lain, and chosen chancellor of the university of Oxford. He
died suddenly on the 10th of April, 1630, having just com-
pleted fifty years. But, his only son deceasing, a child, befora
him, his estate and honours descended upon his younge
brother, Philip, Earl of Montgomery, the lineal ancestor ..
the present noble and learned earl. — Stephens.
i Sir David Dalryuiple's Memorials and Lett.rs, ) A.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
199
eemeth the Bishop of Lincoln; and that of the
habeas corpus, which concernelh the Chancery. |
These causes, although I gave them private I
additions, yet, they are merely, or at least chiefly,
yours ; and the die runneth upon your royal prero-
gative's diminution, or entire conservation. Of
these it is my duty to give your majesty a short
account.
For that of the rege inconsulto, I argued the
same in the King's Bench on Thursday last.
There argued on the other part Mr. George Crook,
the judge's brother, an able bookman, and one
that was manned forth with all the furniture that
the bar could give him, I will not say the bench,
and with the study of a long vacation. I was to
answer, which hath a mixture of the sudden; and
of myself I will not, nor cannot say any thing,
but that my voice served me well for two hours
and a half; and that those that understood nothing
could tell me that I lost not one auditor that was
present in the beginning, but stayed till the later
end. If I should say more, there were too many
witnesses, for I never saw the court more full,
that might disprove me.
My Lord Coke was pleased to say, that it was
a famous argument; but withal, he asked me a
politic and tempting question : for, taking occa-
sion by a notable precedent I had cited, where,
upon the like writ brought, all the judges in
England assembled, and that privately, lest they
sliould seem to dispute the king's commandment,
and, upon conference, with one mind agreed, that
the writ must be obeyed. Upon this hold, my
!ord asked me, whether I would have all the rest
of the judges called to it. I was not caught; but
knowing well that the judges of the Common
Pleas were most of all others interested in respect
of the prothonotaries, I answered, civilly, that I
could advise of it; but that I did not distrust the
court; and, besides, I thought the case so clear,
as it needed not.
Sir, I do perceive, that I have not only stopped,
but almost turned the stream; and I see how
things cool by this, that the judges that were
wont to call so hotly upon the business, when
they had heard, of themselves, took a fortnight
day to advise what they will do, by which time
the term will be near at an end ; and I know they
little expected to have the matter so beaten down
with book-law, upon which my argument wholly
went; so that every mean student was satisfied.
Yet, because the times are as they are, I could
wish, in all humbleness, that your majesty would
remember and renew your former commandment
which you gave my lord chief justice in Michael-
mas term, which was, that after he had heard
your attorney, which is now done, he should for-
bear further proceeding till he had spoke with
your majesty.
It concerneth your majesty threefold. First,
in this particular of Murray ; next, in consequence
of fourteen several patents, part in Queen Ll'za
betli's time, some in your majesty's time, which
depend upon the like question; but chiefly be-
cause this writ is a mean provided by the ancient
law of England, to bring any case that may con
cern your majesty, in profit or power, from the
ordinary benches, to be tried and judged before
your Chancellor of p]ngland, by tiie ordinary and
legal part of his power : and your majesty
knoweth your chancellor is ever a principal coun-
sellor, and instrument of monarchy, of immediate
dependence upon the king: and, therefore, like
to be a safe and tender guardian of the roya)
rights.
For the case of the commendams, a matter
likewise of great consequence, though nothing
near the first, this day I was prepared to have
argued it before all the judges; but, by reason
of the sickness of the sergeant which was pro-
vided to argue on the other side, although I
pressed to have had some other day appointed
this term ; yet it pleased divers of the judges to
do me the honour, as to say it was not fit any
should argue against me, upon so small time
of warning, it is adjourned to the first Saturday
next term.
For the matter of the habeas corpus, I perceive
this common employment of my lord chancellor,
and my lord chief justice, in these examinations,
is such a vinculum, as they will not square while
these matters are in hand, so that there is altum
silentium of that matter. God ever preserve
your majesty.
Your majesty's most humble
and bounden subject and servant,
Fr. Bacon-.
January 27, 1615.
TO SIR GEORGE VILLTERS, ON SENDING HIS BILL
FOR VISCOUNT.*
Sir: — I send you the bill for his majesty's sig-
nature, reformed according to his majesty's
amendments, both in the two places, which, I
assure you, were both altered with great judg-
ment, and in the third place, which his majesty
termed a question only. But he is an idle body
that thinks his majesty asks an idle question:
and therefore his majesty's questions are to be
answered by taking away the cause of the ques-
tion, and not by replying.
For the name, his majesty's will is law
in those things; and to speak truth, it is a
well sounding and noble name, both here and
abroad ; and being your proper name, I will takt^
it for a good sign that you shall give honour to
your dignity, and not your dignity to you. There-
fore I have made it Viscount Villiers: and for
your barony, I will keep it for an earldom ; for,
♦ Stephens's second Collection, p. 10.
i:ro
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
though t'.ie other had been more orderl}', yet that
is as usual, and both alike good in law.
For Roper's place,* I would have it by all
means despatched; and therefore I marvel it lin-
gereth. It were no good manners to take the
business out of my lord treasurer's hands; and
therefore I purpose to write to his lordship, if I
hea: not from him first by Mr. Deccomb. But
if I hear of any delay, you will give me leave,
especially since the king named me, to deal
with Sir John Roper myself; for neither I nor my
lord treasurer can deserve any great thanks of
you in this business, considering the king hath
spoken to Sir John Roper, and he hath pro-
mised ; and, besides, the thing itself is so rea-
sonable as it ought to be as soon done as said. I
am now gotten into the country to my house,
where I have some little liberty to think of
that I would think of, and not of that which other
men hourly break my head withal, as it was at
London. Upon this you may conclude, that most
of my thoughts are of his majesty ; and then
you cannot be far off. God ever keep you, and
prosper you. I rest always
Your true and most devoted servant,
Fr. Bacon.
Aug. 5, one of the happiest days, 1616.
BY KING JAMES.t
TO OUR TRUSTY AND WELL BELOVED THOMAS CO-
VENTRY, OUR ATTORNEY-GENERAL.
Trusty and well beloved, we greet you well :
Whereas, our right trusty and right well be-
loved cousin, the Viscount of St. Alban, upon a
sentence given in the Upper House of Parliament
full three years since, and more, hath endured
loss of his place, imprisonment, and confinement:^:
also for a great time, which may suflSce for the satis-
• Sir John Roper, who had for many years enjoyed the
place of the chief clerlt for enrolling of pleas in the court of
King's Bench, esteemed to be worth about f )iir thousand
pounds per annum, being grown old, was prevailed with to
surrender it upon being created Lord Teynham, with a reser-
vation of the profits thereof to himself during life. Upon
which surrender, Sir George Villiers was to have the office
granted to two of his trustees for their lives, as Carr, Earl of
Somerset, was to have had before. But the Lord Chief Jus-
tice Coke not being very forward to accept of the surrender,
or n)ake a new grant of it upon those terms, he was, upon
the 3d of October, 1616, commanded to desist from the service
of this place, and at last removed from it upon the 15th of
November following. His successor, Sir Henry Montagu,
third son of Sir Edward Montagu, of Houghton in Northamp-
i'-nshire, recorder of London, and king's sergeant, being
iMO'c complaisant, Sir John Roper resigned, towards the lat-
ter end of the same month; and Mr Shute, and Mr. Heath,
who was afterwards the king's solicitor-general, being the
deputies and trustees of Sir George Villiers, were admitted. —
!ftephens's Introduct. p. 37.
+' Cabala, 270. Edw. 1063.
I His sentence forbid his coming within the verge of the
rnurt. [In consequence of this letter, my Lord Bacon was
Kiimmoned to Parliament in the first year of King Charles.]
faction of justice, and example to others: w*
being always graciously inclined to temper mercy
with justice, and calling to mind his former good
services, and how well and profiiai)ly he hath
spent his time since his trouble, are pleased to
remove from him that blot of ignominy which
yet remaineth upon him, of incapacity and disa»
blement; and to remit to him all penaltiea
whatsoever inflicted by that sentence. Hav-
ing therefore formerly pardoned his fine, and
released his confinement, these are to will and
require you to prepare, for our signature, a bill
containing a pardon, in due form of law, of the
whole sentence; for which this shall be your
sufficient warrant.
MR. FRANCIS BACON TO THE EARL OF ESSEX.*
My Lord, — I did almost conjecture, by your
silence and countenance, a distaste in the course
I imparted to your lordship touching mine own
fortune ; the care whereof in your lordship as it is
no news to me, so, nevertheless, the main effects
and demonstrations past are so far from dulling
in me the sense of any new, as, contrariwise, every
new refresheth the memory of many past. And
for the free and loving advice your lordship hath
given me, I cannot correspond to the same with
greater duty, than by assuring your lordship, that
I will not dispose of myself without your allow-
ance, not only because it is the best wisdom in
any man in his own matters, to rest in the wis-
dom of a friend, (for who can by often looking in
the glass discern and judge so well of his own
favour as another with whom he converseth 1)
but also because my affection to your lordship
hath made mine own contentment inseparable
from your satisfaction. But, notwithstanding, I
know it will be pleasing to your good lordship
that I use my liberty of replying ; and I do
almost assure myself, that your lordship will rest
persuaded by the answer of those reasons which
your lordship vouchsafed to open. They were
two, the one, that I should include * * *
April, 1593.
The rest of the letter is wanting.
THE EARL OF ESSEX TO MR. FRANCIS BACON.+
Mr. Bacon, — Your letter met me here yester-
day. When I came, I found the queen so way-
ward, as I thought it no fit time to deal with her
in any sort, especially since her choler grew to-
wards myself, which I have well satisfied this
day, and will take the first opportunity I can to
* Among the papers of Antony Bacon, Esq., vol. in. fol
74, in the Lambeth Library,
t Ibid. fol. 107.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
201
move your sun. And if you come hither, I pray
you let me know still where you are. And so,
heinor full of business, I must end, wishing you
•what you wish to yourself.
Your assured friend,
Essex.
Sept. 1593.
LORD TREASURER miROHLEY TO MR. FRANCIS
BACON*
Nephew, — I have no leisure to write much ;
out for answer I have attempted to place you :
but her majesty hath required the lord keeper]" to
give to her the nauies of divers lawyers to be pre-
ferred, wherewith he made me acquainted, and I
did name you as a meet man, whom his lordship
allowed in way of friendship, for your father's
sake : but he made scruple to equal you with
certain, whom he named, as Brograve:|: and
Branthwayt, whom he specially commendeth.
But 1 will continue the remembrance of you to
her majesty, and implore my Lord of Essex's
help.
Your loving- uncle,
N. BURGHLEY.
Sept. 27, 1593.
SIR ROBERT CECIL TO MR. FRANCIS BACON.$
Cousin, — Assure yourself that the solicitor's]!
coming gave no cause of speech ; for it was con-
cerning a book to be drawn, concerning the bar-
gain of wines. If there had been, you should
have known, or when there shall. To satisfy
your request of making my lord know, how
recommended your desires are to me, I have
spoken with his lordship, who answereth he hath
done and will do his best. I think your absence
longer than for my good aunt's comfort will do
you no good : for, as I ever told you, it is not
likely to find the queen apt to give an office, when
the scruple is not removed of her forbearance to
speak with you. This being not yet perfected
may stop good, when the hour comes of conclu-
sion, though it be but a trifle, and questionless
would be straight despatched, if it were luckily
handled. But herein do I, out of my desire to
satisfy you, use this my opinion, leaving you to
your own better knowledge what hath been done
for you, or in what terms that matter standeth.
• Among the papers of Antony Bacon, Esq., vol. iii. fol.
197, in the Lambeth Library.
t Puckering.
t John Brograve, attorney of the duchy of Lancaster, and
afterwards kni^'hted. He is nirthtioned by Mr. Francis Bacon,
in his letter to the lord treasurer of the 7th of June, 1595,
Irom Gray's Inn, as having discharged his post of attorney
of the duchy, with great sufficiency. Tliure is extant, of his,
in print, a reading upon the statute of 27 Henry VIII., con-
cerning jointures.
$ Among the papers of Antony Bacon, Esq., vol. iii. fol.
197, verso, in the Lambeth Library. ♦
II Mr. Edward Coke.
Vol. III.— 26
And thus, desirous to oe recommended to ny
good aunt, to whom my wife heartily commends
her, I leave you to the protection of Almighty
God.
Your loving cousin and friend,
RouERT Cecil.
From the Court at Windsor, this 27th of Sept., 1593.
I have heard in these causes. Fades hominis eit
ta7iquam kunis.
MR. FRANCIS BACON TO THE QUEEN.*
Madam, — Remembering that your majesty had
been gracious to me both in countenancing me,
and conferring upon me the reversion of a good
place, and perceiving that your majesty had taken
some displeasure towards me, both these were
arguments to move me to oflTer unto your majesty
my service, to the end to have means to deserve
your favour, and to repair my error. Upon this
ground, I affected myself to no great matter, but
only a place of my profession, such as I do see
divers younger in proceeding to myself, and men
of no great note, do without blame aspire unto.
But if any of my friends do press this matter, I
do assure your majesty my spirit is not with
them.
It sufiiceth me that I have let your majesty
know that I am ready to do that for the service,
which I never would do for mine own gain. And
if your majesty like others better, I shall, with
the Lacedemonian, be glad that there is such
choice of abler men than myself. Your majesty's
favour indeed, and access to your royal person, 1
did ever, encouraged by your own speeches, seek
and desire ; and I would be very glad to be rein-
tegrate in that. But I will not wrong mine own
good mind so much as to stand upon that now,
when your majesty may conceive I do it but to
make my profit of it. But my mind turneth upon
other wheels than those of profit. The conclusion
shall be, that I wish your majesty served answer-
able to yourself. Frincipis eat virtus maxima
nosse suos. Thus I most humbly crave pardon
of my boldness and plainness. God preserve
your majesty.
MR. FRANCIS BACON TO ROBERT KEMP, OF
GRAY'S INN, ESQ.t
Good Robin, — There is no news you can write
to me, which I take more pleasure to hear, than
of your health, and of your loving remembranct>
of me ; the former whereof though you mention
not in your letter, yet I straight presumed well of
it, because your mention was so fresh to maktj
such a flourish. And it was afterwards accord
* Among the papers of Antony Bacon, Esq.j vol. ill. foU
315, in the Lambeth Library
t Ibid. fol. 281.
202
MISCELL.\.NEOUS LETI'L<:iiS.
ingly confirmed by your man, Roger, who made
me a particular relation of the former negotiation
between your ague and you. Of the latter,
iiiough you profess largely, yet I make more
doubt, because your coming is turned into a send-
ing; wliich when I thought would have been
repaired by some promise or intention of yourself,
your man Roger entered into a very subtle dis-
tinction to this purpose, that you could not come
•except you heard I was attorney ; but 1 ascribe
that to your man's invention, who had his reward
ill laughing; for I hope you are not so stately,
but that 1 stiall be one to you stijlo vetere or stylo
novo. For my fortune, (to speak court,) it is very
slow, if any thing can be slow to him that is
secure of the event. In short, nothing is done in
it; but I propose to remain here at Twickenham
till Michaelmas term, then to St. Albans, and
after the term to court. Advise you, whether you
will play the honest man or no. In the mean
time I think long to see you, and pray to be
remembered to your father and mother.
Yours, in loving affection,
Fr. Bacon.
From Twickenham Park, this 4th of Nov. 1503.
MR. FRANCIS BACON TO THE EABL OF ESSEX*
My Lord: — I thought it not amiss to inform
your lordship of that, which I gather partly by
conjecture, and partly by advertisement of the
late recovered man, that is so much at your
devotion, of whom I have some cause to think,
that hef worketh for the Huddler:}: underhand.
And though it may seem strange, considering
how much it importeth him to join straight with
your lordship, in regard both of his enemies and
of his ends ; yet I do the less rest secure upon
the conceit, because he is a man likely to trust so
much to his art and finesse, (as he, that is an
excellent wherryman, who, you know, looketh
towards the bridge, when he pulleth towards
Westminster,) that he will hope to serve his turn,
and yet to preserve your lordship's good opinion.
This I write to the end, that if your lordship do
see nothing to the contrary, you may assure him
more, or trust him less; and chiefly, that your
lordship be pleased to sound again, whether they
have not, amongst them drawn out the nail,
which your lordship had driven in for the nega-
tive of the Huddler; which, if they have, it will
be necessary for your lordship to iterate more for-
cibly your former reasons, whereof there is such
crpia, as I think you may use all the places of
li»gic against his placing.
Thuo>, with my huml)le thanks for your lord-
■ Among the papf.rs of Antony Bacon, Esq., vol. iii fol.
•<3, in the Lambeth Library,
t Piohahly Lord Keeper Puckering.
t Mr. F..i'vard Coke.
ship's honourable usage of Mr. Standen, 1 wish
you all honour.
Your lordship's, in most faithful duty,
Fr. Bacon.
Nov. 10, 15'J3.
I pray, sir, let not my jargon privilege n.y let-
ter from burning; because it is not such, but the
lififht showeth through.
EARL OF ESSEX TO MR. FRANCIS BACON.*
Sir: — I have received your letter, and since 1
have had opportunity to deaj freely with the
(jueen. I have dealt confidently with her as a
mvitter, wherein I did more labour to overcome
her delays, than that I did fear her denial. I
told how much you were thrown down with the
correction she had already given you, that she
might in that point hold herself already satisfied.
And because I found, that Tanfield| had been
most propounded to her, I did most disable him.
I find the queen very reserved, staying herself
upon giving any kind of hope, yet not passionate
against you, till I grew passionate for you. Then
she said, that none thought you fit for the place
but my lord treasurer and myself. Marry, the
others must some of them say before us for fear
or for flattery. I told her, the most and wisest
of her council had delivered their opinions, and
preferred you before all men for that place. .\nd
if it would please her majesty to think, that
whatsoever they said contrary to their own words
when they spake without witness, might be as
factiously spoken, as the other way flatteringly,
she would not be deceived. Yet if they had been
never for you, but contrarily against you, I
thought my credit, joined with the approbation
and mediation of her greatest counsellors, might
prevail in a greater matter than this; and urged
her, that though she could not signify her mind
to others, I might have a secret promise, where-
in I should receive great comfort, as in the con-
trary great unkindness. She said she was
neither persuaded nor would hear of it till
Easter, when she might advise with her council,
who were now all absent; and, therefore, in
passion bid me go to l)ed, if I would talk of
nothing else. Wherefore in passion I went
away, saying, while I was with her, I could not
but solicit for the cause and the man I so much
affected ; and therefore I would retire myself till
I might be more graciously heard ; and so we
parted. To-morrow I \^'ill go hence of purpose,
and on Thursday I will write an expostulating
letter to her. That night or upon Friday morn*
* Amone the papers of Antony Bacon, Esq., vol. iv. fol.
90, in the Lambeth Library.
t Probably Laurence Tanfield, made lord chief baron A
the exchequer in June, 1607.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
203
hig I will be here again, and follow on the same
course, stirring a discontentment in her, &c.
And so wish you ail happiness, and rest
Your most assured friend,
Essex.
Endorsed, March 28, 1594.
THE EARL OF ESSEX TO MR. FRANCIS BACON.*
Sir: — 1 have now spoken with the queen, and
I see no stay from obtaining a full resolution of
that we desire. But the passion she is in by
reason of the tales that have been told her against
Nicholas Clifford, with whom she is in such
rage, for a matter, which I think you have heard
of, doth put her infinitely out of quiet; and her
passionate humour is nourished by some foolish
women. Else I find nothing to distaste us, for
she doth not contradict confidently ; which they
that know the minds of women, say is a sign of
yielding. I will to-morrow take more time to
deal with her, and will sweeten her with all the
art I have to make benevolum auditorem, I have
already spoken with Mr. Vice-Chamberlain, f
and will to-morrow speak with the rest. Of Mr.
Vice-Chamberlain you may assure yourself; for
so much he hath faithfully promised me. The
exceptions against the competitors I will use to-
morrow ; for then I do resolve to have a full and
large discourse, having prepared the queen to-
night to assign me a time under colour of some
such business, as I have pretended. In the mean
time I must tell you, that I do not respect either
my absence, or my showing a discontentment in
going away, for I was received at my return, and
1 think I shall not be the worse. And for that I
am oppressed with multitude of letters that are
come, of which I must give the queen some
account to-morrow morning, I therefore desire to
be excused for writing no more to-night: to-
morrow you shall hear from me again. I wish
you what you wish yourself in this and all
things else, and rest
Your most affectionate friend,
Essex.
This Friday at night.
Endorsed, March 29, 1594.
MR. FRANCIS BACON TO THE EARL OF ESSEX.J
My Lord, — I thank your lordship very much
for your kind and comfortable letter, which I hope
will be followed at hand with another of more
assurance. And I must confess this very delay
* Among the papers of Antony Bacon, Esq. vol. iv. fol. 89,
in the Lambeth Library.
t -Sir Thomas Heneage.
t Among the papers of Antony Bacon, Esq., vol. ill. fol. 62,
to the Lambeth Library.
hath gone so near me, as it hath almost over-
thrown my health ; for when I revolved the good
memory of my father, the near degree of alliance
1 stand in to my lord treasurer, your lordship's so
signalled and declared favour, the honourable tes-
timony of so many counsellors, the commenda-
tions unlaboured, and in sort oflered by my lords
the judges and the master of the rolls elect ;* that
I was voiced with great expectation, and, though
I say it myself, with the wishes of most men, to
the higher place;"}" that I am a man, that the
queen hath already done for; and that princes,
especially her majesty, love to make an end where
they begin ; and then add hereunto the obscure-
ness and many exceptions to my competitors :
when 1 say I revolve all this, I cannot but con-
clude with myself, that no man ever read a more
exquisite disgrace ; and, therefore, truly, my lord,
I was determined, if her majesty reject me, this
to do. ]\ly nature can take no evil ply; but I
will, by God's assistance, with this disgrace of
my fortune, and yet with that comfort of the good
opinion of so many honourable and worthy per-
sons, retire myself with a couple of men to Cam-
bridge, and there spend my life in my studies and
contemplations without looking back. I humbly
pray your lordship to pardon me for troubling you
with my melancholy. For the matter itself, I
commend it to your love; only I pray you com-
municate afresh this day with my lord treasurer
and Sir Robert Cecil ; and if you esteem my for-
tune, remember the point of precedency. The
objections to my competitors your lordship know-
eth partly. I pray spare them not, not over the
queen, but to the great ones, to show your confi-
dence, and to work their distrust. Thus, longing
exceedingly to exchange troubling your lordship
with serving you, I rest
Your lordship's,
in most entire and faithful service,
Francis Bacon.
March 30, 1594.
I humbly pray your lordship I may hear from
you some time this day.
MR. FRANCIS BACON TO SIR ROBERT CECIL.J
My most honourable good Cousin,
Your honour in your wisdom doth well per-
ceive, that my access at this time is grown despe
rate in regard of the hard terms, that as well the
Earl of Essex as Mr. Vice-Chamberlain, who
were to have been the means thereof, stand in with
her majesty, according to their occasions. And,
therefore, I am only to stay upon that point of
♦ sir Thomas Egerton.
+ That of altorney-gcneraL
X Among the papers of Antony Bacon, Esq , vol. It fol
122, in the I.antbetb Library.
204
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
delaying and preserving the matter entire till a
better coiistellation ; wiiich, as it is not hard, as I
conceive, considering the Erencli business and
the instant progress, &c., so I commend in special
to you the care, who in sort assured me, tliereof,
and upon whom now, in my Lord of Essex's ab-
sence, I have only to rely ; and, if it be needful,
I humbly pray you to move my lord your father
to lay his hand to the same delay. And so I wish
you all increase of honour.
Your honour's poor kinsman,
in faithful service and duty,
Prancis Bacon.
From Gray's Inn, this Ist of May 1591.
SIR ROBERT CECIL'S ANSWER.*
Cousin, — ^I do think nothing cut the throat more
of your present access than the earl's being some-
what troubled at this time. For the delaying I
think it not hard, neither shall there want my
best endeavour to make it easy, of which I hope
you slrall not need to doubt by the judgment,
which I gatherof divers circumstances confirming
my opinion. I protest I suffer with you in mind,
that you are thus gravelled ; but time will founder
all your competitors, and set you on your feet, or
else I have little understandintr.
EARL OF ESSEX TO MR. FRANCIS BACON.f
Sir, — I wrote not to you till I had had a second
conference with the queen, because the first was
spent only in com.pliments : she in the beginning
excepted all business : this day she hath seen
me again. After I had followed her humour in
talking of those tilings, which she would entertain
me with, 1 told her, in my absence I had written
to Sir Robert Cecil, to solicit her to call you to
that place, to which all the world had named you ;
and being now here, I must follow it myself;
for I know what service I should do her in pro-
curing you the place ; and she knew not how great
a comfort I should take in it. Her answer in
playing just was, that she came not to me for that,
I should talk of those things when I came to her,
not when she came to me ; the term was coming,
and she would advise. I would have replied, but
she stopped my mouth. To-morrow or the next
day I will go to her, and then this excuse will be
taken away. When I know more, you shall hear
more; and so I end full of pain in my head, which
wakes me write thus confusedly.
Vjur most affectionate friend.
• Amone tTie papers of Antony Bacon, Esq., voL iv. fol.
Vn, in the Lambeth Library.
■♦ ihid. fol. 128.
EAKL OF ESSEX TO MR. FRANCIS BACON •
Sir, — I went yesterday to the queen tiirough
the galleries in the morning, afternoon, and ai
night, i had long speech with her of you, wherein
I urged both the point of your extraordinary suffi-
ciency proved to me not only by your last argu-
ment, but by the opinion of all men I spake withal,
and the point of mine own satisfaction, which, J
protested, should be exceeding great, if, for all
her unkindness and discomforts past, she should
do this one tlting for my sake. To the first she
answered, that the greatness of your friends, as of
my lord treasurer and myself, did make men give
a more favourable testimony than else they would
do, thinking thereby they pleased us. And that
she did acknowledge you had a great wit, and an
excellent gift of speech, and much other good
learning. But in law she rather thought yoii
could make show to the uttermost of your know-
ledge, than that you were deep. To the second
she said, she showed her misiike to tiie suit, as
well as I had done my affection in it; and that if
there were a yielding, it was fitter to be of my
side. I then added, that this was an answer, with
which she might deny me all things, if she did
not grant them at the first, which was not her
manner to do. But her majesty had made me
suffer and give way in many things else; which
all I should bear, not only with patience, but with
great contentment, if site would but grant my
huntble suit in this one. And for the pretence of
the approbation given you upon partiality, that all
the world, lawyers, judges, and all, could not be
partial to you ; for somewhat you were crossed
for their own interest, and some for their friends ;
but yet all did yield to your merit. She did in
this as she useth in all, went from a denial to a
delay, and said, when the council were all here,
she would think of it; and there was no haste in
determining of the place. To which I answered,
that my sad heart had need of hasty comfort; and,
therefore, her majesty must pardon me, if I were
hasty and importunate in it. When they come
we shall see what will be done ; and I wish you
all happiness, and rest
Your most affectionate friend
Essex.
Endorsed, ISth of May, 1594.
FOITLKE CREVILL, ESQ. TO MR. FRANCIS BACON-t
Mr. Francis Bacon,
Saturday was my first coming to the court,
from whence I departed again as soon as 1 had
kissed her majesty's hands, because I had no
lodging nearer than my uncle's, which is four
* Amonsthepsipersof Antony Bacon, El q., vol. iv. fol. 123,
in the Liinibeth Library.
t Ibid. ful. 133.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
205
miles off. This day I came thither to dinner,
and waiting for to speak with the queen, took
occasion to tell how I met you, as I passed
tnrough London; and among other speeches,
how you lamented your misfortune to me, thai
remaiiu'd as a withered branch of her roots,
which she had cherished and made to flourish in
her service. I added what I thought of your
worth, and the expectation for ail this, that the
world had of her princely goodness towards you:
which it pleased her majesty to confess, that
indeed you began to frame very well, insomuch
as siie saw an amends in those little supposed
errors, avowing the respect she carried to the
dead, with very exceeding gracious inclination
towards you. Some comparisons there fell out
besides, which I leave till we meet, which I
hope shall be this week. It pleased her withal
to tell of the jewel you offered her by Mr. Vice-
Chamberlain, which she had refused, yet with
exceeding praise. I marvel, that as a prince she
should refuse those havings of her poor subjects,
because it did include a small sentence of despair;
but either I deceive myself, or she was resolved
to take it; and the conclusion M'as very kind and
gracious. Sure as I will one hundred pounds to
fifty pounds that you shall be her solicitor, and
my friend ; in which mind and for which mind I
commend you to God. From the court, this Mon-
day in haste,
V'our true friend to be commanded by you,
FoULKE GrEVILL.
We cannot tell whether she comes to -^^—
or stay here. I am much absent for want of
lodging; wherein my own man hath only been
to blame.
Emioraed, ITtli of June, 1591.
MR. FRANCIS BACON TO TFIE QUEEN*
Most ciRACious and admirable Sovereign,
As I do acknowledge a ])rovidence of God
towards me, that findolh it expedient for me lole-
rare ju^^um in juvenlute med ; so this present
arrest of mine by his divine majesty from your
majesty's service is not the least affliction, that I
have proved ; and I hope your majesty doth con-
ceive, that nothing under mere impossibility could
have detained me from earning so gracious a veil,
as it pleased your majesty to give ine. But your
majesty's service by the grace of God shall take
no lack thereby ; and, thanks to God, it hath
lighted upon him that may \)o. the best spared.
Only the discouifurt is mine, who nevertheless
have the private comfort, that in the time I have
been made acquainted with this service, it hath
been my hap to stumble upon somewhat unseen,
• AmnnR the i)ip«-ra of Antony Bacon, Esq., vol.iv.fol. 141,
and 150, in the Lanibulh Library.
which may import the same, as I made rny lord
keeper acquainted before my going. So, leaving
it to God to make a good end of a hard begin-
ning, and most humbly craving your majesty's
pardon for presuming to trouble you, I recom-
mend your sacred majesty to God's tenderesl
preservation.
Your sacred majesty's, in most humble
obedience and devotion,
Fr. Bacon.
From Iluntingfton, this 20th of July, 15»J.
MR. FRANCIS BACON TO HIS BROTHER ANTONV.*
Mv GOOD Brother,
One day draweth on another; and I am well
pleased in my being here; for metliinks solitari-
ness collecteth the mind, as shutting the eye doth
the sight. I pray you, therefore, advertise me
what you find, by my Lord of Kssex, (who, I am
sure, hath been with you,) was done last Sunday;
and what he conceiveth of the matter. I hold in
one secret, and therefore you may trust your ser-
vant. I would be glad to receive my parsonage
rent as soon as it cometh. So leave I you t(
God's good preservation.
Your ever loving brother,
Fr, Bacon.
From Twickenham Park, this Tuesday morning, 1594.
Endorsed, 16 Oct. 1594.
EARI. OF ES.SEX TO MR. FRANCI.S BACON.t
Sir : — I will be to-morrow night at London. 1
purpose to hear your argument the next day. I
pray you send me word by this bearer of the
hour and place where it is. Of your own cause
I shall give better account when I see you, than
I can do now; for that which will be done, wU^
be this afternoon or to-morrow.
I am fast unto you, as you can be to yourself.
Endorsed, 23 Oct. 1594.
MR. FRANCIS BACON TO IIlS BROTHER ANTONY.t
Good Brother,
Since I saw you this hath passed. Tuesday,
though sent for. I saw not the queen. Her ma-
jesty allecred she was then to resolve with iho
council uprrn her places of law. But this resolu-
tion was ul supra ; and note the rest of the coun-
sellors were persuaded she came rather forwards
than otherwise ; for against me she is never p©-
" Amonirthe pn|>or8nf Antony Bacon, Exq., vol. iv. foJ '•!
in the Lnniheth Library,
t Ibid. fol. 195.
t Ibid. fol. 28.
s
206
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
remptcTT but to my lord of Essex. I missed a
line of my Lord Keeper's ; but thus much I hear
otherwise. The queen seemeth to apprehend my
travel. Whereupon I was sent for by Sir Robert
Cecil in sort as from her majesty ; himself having
of purpose immediately gone to London to speak
with me ; and not finding me there, he wrote to
me. Whereupon I came to the court, and upon
liis relation to me of her majesty's speeches, I de-
sired leave to answer it in writing; not, I said,
that I mistrusted his report, but mine own wit ;
the copy of which answer 1 send. We parted in
kindness, secundum exterius. This copy you must
needs return, fori have no other; and I wrote this
by memory after the original was sent away. The
queen's speech is after this sort. Why ? J have
made nn solicitor. Hath any body carried a solicitor
with him in his pocket? But he must have it in hia
oivn time, (as if it were hut j'esterday's nomina-
tion,) or else I must be thought to cast him away.
Then her majesty sweareth thus : " If I continue
this manner, she will seek all England for a soli-
citor rather than take me. Yea, she will send for
Heuston and Coventry* to-morrow next," as if
she would swear them both. Again sheentereth
into it, that " she never deals so with any as with
me (in hoc erratum non est') she hath pulled me
over the bar (note the words, for they catmot be her
own) she hath used me in her greatest causes.
But this is Essex, and she is more angry with
him than with me." And such like speeches, so
strange, as I should lose myself in it, but that I
have cast off the care of it. My conceit is, that I
am the least part of mine own matter. But her
majesty would have a delay, and yet would not
bear it herself. Therefore she giveth no way to
me, and she perceiveth her council giveth no way
to others ; and so it sticketh as she would have it.
But what the secret of it is, oeulus aquiltB non pene-
travit. My lordf continueth on kindly and wisely
a course worthy to obtain a better effect than a
delay, which to me is the most unwelcome con-
dition.
Now, to return to you the part of a brother, and
to render you the like kindness, advise you, whe-
ther it were not a good time to set in strongly with
the queen to draw her to honour your travels. For
in the course I am like to take, it will be a great
and necessarystay tome, besides the natural com-
fort I shall receive. And if you will have me
deal with my Lord of Essex, or otherwise break it
by mean to the queen, as that, which shall give
me full contentment, I will do it as effectually,
and with as much good discretion as I can.
Wherein if you aid me with your direction, I
snail oDserve it. This, as I did ever account it
hure and certain to be accomplished, in case my-
belf had been placed, and therefore deferred it till
* Thomas Coventry, afterwards one of the justices of the
Comnwn P'eas, and father of the Lord Keeper Co /entry.
then, as to the proper opportunity ; so now tnf.l I
see such delay in mine own placing, I wish ex
animo it should not expect.
I pray you let me know what mine uncle Killi-
grew will do ;* for I must be more careful of my
credit than ever, since I receive so little thence
where 1 deserved best. And, to be plain with you,
I mean even to make the best of those small things
I have with as much expedition, as may be with-
out loss ; and so sing a mass of requiem, I hope,
abroad. For I know her majesty's nature, that
she neitber careth though the whole surname of
Bacons travelled, nor of the Cecils neither.
I have here an idle pen or two, specially one,
that was cozened, thinking to have got some mo-
ney this term. I pray send me somewhat else
for them to write out besides your Irish collection,
which is almost done. There is a collection of
King James, of foreign states, largeliest of Flan-
ders ; which, though it be no great matter, yet 1
would be glad to have it. Thus I commend you
to God's good protection.
Your entire loving brother,
Fr. Bacon.
From my lodging, at Twickenham Park,
this 25th of January, 1594.
LETTER OF MR. FRANCIS BACON TO SIR ROBERT
CECIL ;t A COPY OF WHICH WAS SENT WITH
THE PRECEDING TO MR. ANTONY BACON.
Sir: — Your honour may remember, that upon
relation of her majesty's speech concerning my
travel, I asked leave to make answer in writing ;
not but I knew then what was true, but because I
was careful to express it without doing myself
wrong. And it is true, I had then opinion to have
written to her majesty : but, since weigliing with
myself, that her majesty gave no ear to the motion
made by yourself, that I might answer by mine
own attendance, I began to doubt the second de-
gree, whether it might not be taken for presump-
tion in me to write to her majesty ; and so resolved,
that it was best for me to follow her majesty's
own way in committing it to your report.
It may please your honour to deliver to her ma-
jesty, first, that it is an exceeding grief to nie,
that any not motion (for it was not a motion) but
mention, that should come from me, t>hould offend
her majesty, whom for these one-and-twenty years
(for so long it is, that I kissed her majesty's hands
upon my journey into France) I have used the
best of my wits to please.
Next, mine answer standing upon two points^
the one, that this mention of travel to my lord of
Essex was no present motion, suit, or request;
• Mr. Antony Bacon had written to Sir Henry Killiprew on
the 14th of January, 1594-5, to desire the loan of two hundred
pounds for six months. Vol. iv. fol. 4.
t Among the papers of Antony Bacon, Esq., vol. iv.
fol. 31.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
207
bnt castinor the worst of my fortune with an ho-
nourable friend, thiii h.\(l lunsj iist-d nie privately,
1 told his lordsliip of this purpose of mine to tra-
vel, accompanyinw it with those very words, that
upon her majesty's rpjectin<r me with such cir-
cumstance, thou<{h my heart mi<iht be trood, yet
mine eyes wouhl be sore, that 1 should take no
pleasure to look upon my friends ; for that I was
not an impudent man, that could face out a dis-
{jrace ; and that I hope<i her majesty would not be
oriended, that, not able to endure the sun, 1 fled
into the shade. The other, that it was more than
this ; for I did ex])ressly and particularly, (for so
much wit God then lent me,) by way of caveat,
restrain my lord's good affection, that he should
in no wise utter or mention this matter till her
majesty had made a solicitor; wherewith (now
since my looking upon your letter) 1 did in a du-
tiful manner challenge my lord, who very honour-
ably acknowledged it, seeing he did it for the
best ; and therefore I leave his lordship to answer
for himself. All this my Lord of Essex can testify
to be true : and I report me to yourself, whether
at the first, when I desired deliberation to answer,
yet nevertheless said, I would to you privately
declare what had passed, I said not in effect so
much. The conclusion shall be, that wheresoever
TJod and her majesty shall appoint me to live, I
shall truly pray for her majesty's preservation and
felicity. And so I humbly commend me to you.
Your poor kinsman to do you service,
Fr. Bacon.
Endorsed, Jatuinry, 15M.
TO SIR THOMAS EGERTON, LORD KEEPER OF THE
GREAT SEAL*
May it please your honourable good Lordship,
Of your lordship's honourable disposition, both
generally and to me, I have that belief, as what I
think, I am not afraid to speak ; and what I would
speak, 1 am not afraid to write. And therefore I
have thought to commit to letter some matter,
whereunto [which] I have been [conceived] led
[into the same] by two motives: the one, the
consideration of my own estate ; the other, the
appetite which I have to give your lordship some
evidence of the thoughtful and voluntary desire,
which is in me, to mjerit well of your most ho-
nourable lordship : which desire in me hath been
bred chiefly by the consent I have to your great
virtue come in good time to do this state pleasure;
and next by your loving courses held towards me,
especially in your nomination and enablement of
me long since to the solicitor's place, as your
* From the original draiiitht in the ribrary of Queen's Col-
leee, Oxford, Arch. D. 2, the copy of whi< h was comniiini-
citcd to me by Thomas Tyrwhitt, Eoii., clerk of the honoiira-
bl. Il.mse of Commons. Sir William Uugdale, in his Baronage
of Riiiiland, vol. ii. p. 438, has sivn two short passages of
thib Ipt'er. iranHcrihed by l^-ii from the unpnlilishod original.
lordship best knows. Which your two honoura-
ble friendships I esteem so much [in so great
sort] as your countenance and favour in my prac-
tice, which are somewhat to my poverty; yet I
count them not the best [greatest] part of the
obligation wherein I stand bound to you.
And now, my lord, I pray you right humbly,
that you will vouchsafe your honourable license
and patience, that I may express to you, what in a
doubtful liberty I have thought fit, partly by way of
praying your help, and partly by way of offering
my good will ; partly again by way of preoccu-
pating your conceit, lest you may in some things
mistake.
My estate, to confess a truth to your lordship,
is weak and indebted, and needeth comfort; for
both my father, though I think I had greatest part
in his love to all his children, yet in his wisdom
served me in as a last comer ; and myself, in mine
own industry, have rather referred and aspired to
virtue than to gain : whereof, I am not yet wise
enough to repent me. But the while, whereas,
Solomon speaketh that " want cometh first like
a wayfaring man," and after like " an armed ii an,"
I must acknowledge to your lordship mystlf to
[be] in primo gradu ; for it stealeth upon me.
But, for the second, that it should not be aule to
be resisted, I hope in Cod I am not in that case;
for the preventing whereof, as I do depend upon
God's providence all in all, so in the same his
providence I see opened unto me three not unlikely
expectations of help: the one my practice, the
other some proceeding in the queen's service, the
third [the] place 1 have in reversion ; which, as
it standeth now unto me, is but like another man's
ground reaching upon my house, which may mend
my prospect, but it doih not till my b;irn.
For my practice, it presupposeth my health,
which, if I should judge of as a man that judgeth
of a fair morrow by a fair evening, I might have
reason to value well. But, myself having this
error of mind, that I am apter to conclude in every
thing of change from the present tense than of a
continuance, do make no such appointment. Be-
sides, 1 am not so far deceived in myself but that
I know very well, and I think your lordship is
major corde, and in your wisdom you note it more
deeply than I can in myself, that in practising the
law, I play not all my best game, which maketh
me accept it with a nisi quod pott'u.t, as the best
of my fortune, and a thing agreeable to better
gifts than mine, but not to mine.
For my placing, your lordship best knows, thai
when I was much dejected with her majesty's
strange dealing towards me, it pleased you, of
your singular favour, so far to comfort and
encourage me, as to hold me worthy to be excited
to think of succeeding your lordship in your
second place ;* signifying in your plainness, that
• The mastership of the rolls; which office the lord keeoer
held Un tlie Lord Bruce was advanced lo it, May 18, 1W»3
•209
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
no man should better content yourself: which
your exceeding favour you have not since varied
from, bcth in pleading the like signification into j
the hands of some of my best friends, and also in [
an honourable and answerable nomination and |
commendation of me to her majesty. Wherein (
I hope your lordship, if it please you to call to
mind, did find me neither overweening in presum-
ing too much upon it, nor much deceived in my
opinion of the event for the continuing it still in
yourself, nor sleepy in doing some good offices to
the same purpose.
Now upon this matter I am to make your lord-
ship three humble requests, which had need be
very reasonable, coming so many together. First,
that your lordship will hold and make good your
wishes towards me in your own time, for no
other I mean it, and in thankfulness thereof, I
will present your lordship with the fairest flower
of my estate, though it yet bear no fruit, and that
is the poor reversion, which of her majesty's gift
I hold ; in the which I shall be no less willing
Mr. Joiin Egerton,* if it seem good to you, should
succeed me in that, than I would be willing to
succeed your lordship in the other place.
My next humble request is, that your lordship
would believe a protestation, which is, that if
there be now against the next term, or hereafter,
for a little bought knowledge of the court teacheth
me to foresee tliese things, any heaving or palting
at that place upon my honesty and troth, my
spirit is not in, nor with it; I for my part, being
resolutely resolved not to proceed one pace or
degree in this matter but with your lordship's
foreknowledge and approbation. The truth of
which protestation will best a|)pear, if by any
accident, which I look not for, I shall receive any
further strength. P^or, as I now am, your lord-
ship may impute it only to policy alone in me,
that being without present hope myself, I would
be content the matter sleep.
My third humble petition to your lordship is,
that you would believe an intelligence, and not
take it for a fiction in court; of which manner I
like Cicero's speech well, who, writingto Appius
Claudius, saith ; Sin auiem qux libi ipsi in viin-
tem veniunt, ea aliis tribuere soles, iiulucis genus
sermonis in aniicitiam miinme liherale. But I do
assure your lordship, it is both true and fresh, and
from a person of that sort, as having some glimpse
of it before, I now rest fully confirmed in it; and
it is this, tliat tlwre should be a plot laid of some
Btien^tb between Mr. Attorney-General,")" and Mr.
♦ «f cond son of the lord keeper, whose eldest son, SirThomat.,
Kntgnted iit Oidiz iipnn the taking it in 1596 by the Earl of
Tsbex, i1tEi< in Ireland, whither he attended that earl in 1599,
ns Mr. John Eeerton likewise did, and was knighted by his
/ordphip, anil at the coronation of King James, was marie
j^nighl of t'le Imlh. He succeeded his father in the titles of
Maron of J''llTniere and Viscount Brackley, and, on the 17th
of May, wa^ tf/ited Eurl of Bridgewater.
»Cokc
Attorney of the Wards,* for the one's remove lo
tiie rolls, and the other to be orawn to his place.
Which, to be plain with your lordship, I do
apprehend much. For, first, I know Mr. Attorney-
General, whatsoever he pretendeth or protesteth
to your lordship, or any other, dotii seek it; and
I perceive well by his dealing towards his best
friends, to whom he oweth most, how perfectly
he hath conned the adage of prurimus egomet
mihi ; and then I see no man ripened for tiie place
of the rolls in com|)etition with Mr. Attorney-
General. And lastly, Mr. Attorney of the Wards
being noted for a pregnant and stirring man, the
objection of any hurt her majesty's business may
receive in iier causes by the drawing up of Mr
Attorney-General will wax cold. And yet, never-
theless, if it may please your lordship to pardon
me so to say, of the second of those placings I
tliink with some scorn; only I commend the
knowledge hereof to your lordship's wisdom, as
a matter not to be neglected.
And now, lastly, my honourable good lord, for
my third poor help, I account [it] will do me
small good, except there be a heave ; and that is
this place of the Star Chamber. I do confess
ingenuously to your lordship, «out of my love to
the public, besides my particular, that I am of
opinion, that rules without examples will do little
good, at least not to coutinue; but that there is
such a concordance b(^tween the time to come and
the time passed, as there will be no rt*'urming the
one without informing of the other. ind I will
not, as the proverb is, spit against the w'v.d, but
yield so far to a general opinion, as there was
never a more * ♦ or particular example. But I
submit it wholly to your honourable grave con-
sideration ; only I humbly pray you to conceive
that it is not any money that I have borrowed of
Mr. Mills, nor any gratification I receive for my
aid, that makes me show myself any ways in it,
but simply a desire to preserve the rights of the
oflice, as far as is meet and incorrupt; and
secondly his importunity, who, nevertheless, as
far as I see, talieth a course to bring this matter
in question to his farther disadvantage, and to be
principal in his own harm. But if it be true that
I have heard of more than one or two, that besides
this forerunning in taking of fees, there are othtr
deep corru])tions, which in an ordinary course are
intended to be proved against him; surely, for
my part, I am not superstitious, as I will not take
any shadow of it, nor labour to stop it, since it
is a thing medicinable for the office of the realm.
And then, if the place by such an occasion or
otherwise should come in possession, the belter
to testify my affection to your lordship, I shall be
glad, as I offered it to your lordship by way of
[surrender], so in this case to offer it by way of
• Probably Sir Thomas Heskelt, who died l.'lh of Ortober,
1605, and has a monument erected to his memory in WesV
minister Abbey.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
200
lomt-patency, in nature of a reversion, which, as
it is now, there wanteth no good will in me to
otrer, but that both, in that condition it is not
worth the offering ; and, besides, I know not
whether my necessity may enforce me to sell it
away; which, if it were locked in by any rever-
sion or joint-patency, I were disabled to do for my
relief.
Thus your lordship may perceive how assured
a persuasion I have of your love towards me, and
care of me; which hath made me so freely to
communicate of my poor state with your lordship,
as I could have done to my honourable father, if
he had lived : which I most humbly pray your
lordship may be private to yourself, to whom I
commit it to be used to such purpose as, in your
wisdom and honourable love and favour, should
seem good. And so, humbly craving your par-
don, I commend your lordship to the divine pre-
servation.
At your lordship's honourable
commandment humbly and particularly.
MR. FRANCIS RACON TO THE EARL OF ESSEX,*
ON HIS LORDSHIP'S GOING ON THE EXPEDITION
AGAINST CADIZ.
Mv SINGULAR GOOD LoRD,
I have no other argument to write on to your
good lordship, but upon demonstration of my
deepest and most bounden duty, in fulness where-
of I mourn for your lordship's absence, though I
mitigate it as much as I can with the hope of
your happy success, the greatest part whereof, be
it never so great, will be the safety of your most
honourable person; for the which in the first
place, and then for the prosperity of your enter-
prise, 1 frequently pray. And as in so great dis-
comfort it hath pleased God someways to regard
my desolateness, by raising me so great and so
worthy a fritrnd in your absence, as the new
placed lord keeper,]" in whose placing as it hath
pleased God to establish mightily one of the chief
pillars of this estate, that is, the justice of tlie
land, which began to shake and sink, and for that
purpose no doubt gave her majesty strength of
heart of herself to do that in six days, which the
deepest judgment thought would be the work of
many months ; so, for my particular, I do find in
an extraordinary manner, that his lordship doth
succeed my father almost in his fatherly care of
me, and love towards me, as much as he pro-
fesseth to follow him in his honourable and
sound courses of justice and estate; of which so
special favour, the open and apparent reason I
can ascribe to nothing more than the impression,
which, upon many conferences of long time used
• Among the papers of Antony Bacon, Esq., vol. xi. fol. 69,
in the Lambeth Library,
f R(?erton.
Vol. Ill 27
between his lordship and me, he may have re-
ceived both of your lordship's high love and good
opinion towards his lordship, verified in inany
and singular offices, whereof now the realm,
rather than himself, is like to reap the fruit; and
also of your singular affection towards me, as a
man chosen by you to set forth the excellency of
your nature and mind, though with some error of
your judgment. Hereof if it may please your
lordship to take knowledge to my lord, according
to the style of your wonted kindness, your lord-
ship shall do me great contentment. My lord
told me he had written to your lordship, and
wished with great affection he had been so lucky
as to have had two hours' talk with you upon
those occasions, which have since fallen out. So,
wishing that God may conduct you by the hand
pace by pace, I commend you and your actions to
his divine providence.
Your lordship's ever deepliest bounden,
Fr. Bacon.
May 10, 1596.
THE EARL OF ESSEX TO MR. FRANCIS BACON.*
Sir, — I have thought the contemplation of the
art military harder than the execution. But now
I see where the number is great, compounded of
sea and land forces, the most tyrones, and almost
all voluntaries, the officers equal almost in age,
quality, and standing in the wars, it is hard for
any man to approve himself a good commander.
So great is my zeal to omit nothing, and so short
my sufficiency to perform all, as, besides my
charge, myself doth affiict myself. For I cannot
follow the precedents of our dissolute armies, and
my helpers are a little amazed with me, when
they are come from governing a little troop to a
great ; and from to all the great spirits
of our state. And sometimes I am as much
troubled with them, as with all the troops. But
though these be warrants for my seldom writing,
yet they shall be no excuse for my fainting indus-
try. I have written to my lord keeper and some
other friends to have care of you in my absence.
And so, commending you to God's happy and
heavenly protection, I rest
Your true friend,
Essex.
Plymouth, this 17th of May, 1596.
MR. FRANCTS BACON TO HIS BROTHER ANTONY.f
Good Brother, — Yesternight Sir John For-
tescu:!: told me he had not many hours before
imparted to the queen your advertisements, anJ
• Among the papers of Antony Bacon, Esq., vol. xi. fol
139, in the Lambeth Library,
t Ibid. f(.l. 29.
X Chancellor of the Exchequer.
sS
210
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
the gazette likewise; which the queen caused
Mr. John Stanhope* to read all over unto her;
and her majesty conceiveth they be not vulgar.
The advertisements her majesty made estimation
of as concurring with other advertisements, and
alike concurring also with her opinion of the
affairs. So he willed me to return you the queen's
tlianks. Other particular of any speech from her
majesty of yourself he did not relate to me. , For
my Lord of Essex's and your letters, he said, he
was ready and desirous to do his best. But I
seemed to make it but a love-wish, and passed
presently from it, the rather, because it was late
in the night, and I mean to deal with him at some
better leisure after another manner, as you shall
hereafter understand from me. 1 do find in the
speech of some ladies and the very face of the
court some addition of reputation, as methinks to
us both ; and I doubt not but God hath an opera-
tion in it, that will not suffer good endeavours to
perish.
The queen saluted me to-day as she went to
chapel. I had long speech with Sir Robert Cecil
this morning, who seemed apt to discourse with
me ; yet of yourself, ne verbum quidem, not so
much as a quomodo valet ?
This I write to you in haste, aliud ex alio, I
pray set in a course of acquainting my lord keeper
what passeth, at first by mc, and after from your-
self. I am more and more bound to him.
Thus, wishing you good health, I recommend
you to God's happy preservation.
Your entire loving brother,
Fr. Bacon.
From the court, this 30th of May, [1596.]
THE SUBSTANCE OF A LETTER U NOW WISH
YOUR LORDSHIPt SHOULD WRITE TO HER MA-
JESTY.
That you desire her majesty to believe id, quod
res ipsa loquitur, that it is not conscience to your-
self of any advantage her majesty hath towards
you, otherwise than the general and infinite ad-
vantage of a queen and a mistress ; nor any drift
or device to win her majesty to any point or parti-
cular, that moveth you to send her these lines of
your own mind : but first, and principally, grati-
tude ; next a natural desire of, you will not say,
the tedious remembrance, for you can hold nothing
tedious that hath been derived from her majesty,
out the troubled and pensive remembrance of that
which is past, xjf enjoying better times with her
majesty, such as others have had, and that you
have wanted. You cannot impute the difference
10 the continuance of time, which addeth nothinnr
* Made treasurer of the chamber in July, 1596; and, in
May, HV)5, created Lord Stanhope of Harrington, in North-
*m|>toiighire.
( FraDcin Bacon. | Robert, Earl of E««ex.
to her majesty but increase of virtue, but rather U>
your own misfortune or errors. Wherein, never
theless, if it were only question of your own en-
durances, though any strength never so good may
be oppressed, yet you think you should have suf-
focated them, as you had often done, to the im-
pairing of your health, and weighing down of
your mind. But that which, indeed, toucheth the
quick is, that whereas you accounted it the choice
fruit of yourself to be a contentment and entertain-
ment to her majesty's mind, you found many
times to the contrary, that you were rather a dis-
quiet to her, and a distaste.
Again, whereas, in the course of her service,
though you confess the weakness of your own judg-
ment, yet true zeal, not misled with any merce-
nary nor glorious respect, made you light sometimes
upon the best and soundest counsels ; you had
• reason to fear, that the distaste particular against
yourself made her majesty farther off from accept-
ing any of them from such a hand. So as you
seemed, to your deep discomfort, to trouble her
majesty's mind, and to foil her business; incon-
veniences, which, if you be minded as you ought,
thankfulness should teach you to redeem, with
stepping down, nay, throwing yourself down,
from your own fortune. In which intricate case,
finding no end of this former course, and, there-
fore, desirous to find the beginning of a new, you
have not whither to resort, but unto the oracle of
her majesty's direction. For though the true in-
troduction ad teinpora meliora, be by an amnestia
of that which is past, except it be in the sense,
that the verse speaketh, Olim hxc meminisse juva-
bit, when tempests past are remembered in the
calm ; and that you do not doubt of her majesty's
goodness in pardoning and obliterating any of
your errors and mistakings heretofore ; refreshing
the memory and contemplations of your poor
services, or any thing that hath been grateful to
her majesty from you ; yea, and somewhat of
your sutferings, so, though that be, "yet you may
be to seek for the time to come. For as you have
determined your hope in a good hour not willingly
to offend her majesty, either in matter of court or
state, but to depend absolutely upon her will and
pleasure, so you do more doubt and mistrust your
wit and insight in finding her majesty's mind,
than your conformities and submission in obeying
it ; the rather because you cannot but nourish a
doubt in your breast, that her majesty, as princes'
hearts are inscrutable, hath many times towards
you aliud in ore, et aliud in corde. So that you,
that take her secundum literam, go many times
farther out of your way.
Therefore, your most humble suit to her ma-
jesty is, that she will vouchsafe you that ap-
proach to her heart and bosom, et ad serinium
pectoris, plainly, for as much as concerneth your-
self, to open and expound her mind towards you,
suffering you to see clear what may Save bred
MISCKLLANEOUS LETrERS.
211
iiny Jislike in her majesty; and in what points
fchr woukl have you reform yourself; and how
»he would be served by you. Which done, you
do assure her majesty, she shall be both at the
oeginning and the ending of all that you do, of
that reg-ard, as you may presume to impart to her
majesty.
And so that, hoping that this may be an occa-
sion of some farther serenity from her majesty
towards you, you refer the rest to your actions,
which may verify what you have written ; as that
you have written may interpret your actions, and
the course you shall hereafter take.
Endorsed by Mr. Francis Baconj
A Utter framed for my Lord of Essex to the queen.
TO SIR JOHN DAVIS, HIS MAJESTY'S ATTORNEY-
GENERAL IN IRELAND.*
Mr. Attorney, — I thank you for your letter,
and the discourse you sent of this new accident,
as thinirs then appeared. I see manifestly the
beginning of better or worse : but methinketh it
is first a lender of the better, and worse followeth
but upon refusal or default. I would have been
glad to see you here ; but I hope occasion re-
serveth our meeting for a vacation, when we
may have more fruit of conference. To requite
your proclamation, which, in my judgment, is
wisely and seriously penned, I send you another
with us, which happened to be in my hands when
yours came. I would be glad to hear often from
you, and to be advertised how things pass, where-
by to have some occasion to think some good
thoughts ; though I can do little. At the least it
will be a continuance in exercise of our friendship,
which on my part remaineth increased by that I
hear of your service, and the good respects I find
towards myself. And so, in Tormour's haste, I
continue
Your very loving friend,
Fr. Bacon.
From Gray's Inn, this 23d of October, 1607.
TO THE REVEREND UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD.f
Amonost the gratulations I have received, none
are more welcome and agreeable to me than your
letters, wherein, the less I acknowledge of those
attributes you give me, the more I must acknow-
ledge of your affection, which bindelh me no less
to you, that are professors of learning, than my
* From the MS. collections of Robert Stephens, Esq., de-
ceased.
t From the collections of the late Robert Stephens, Esq.,
Ilistorioeriipher Royal, and John Locker, Esq., now in pos-
■ession nf the editor.
own dedication doth to learning itself. And
therefore, you have no need to doubt, but I will
emulate, as much as in me is, towards you the
merits of him that is gone, by how much the more
I take myself to have more propriety in the prin-
cipal motive thereof. And, for the equality you
write of, I shall, by the grace of God, as far as may
concern me, hold the balance as equally between
the two universities, as I shall hold the balance
of other justice between party and party. And
yet in both cases I must meet with some inclina-
tions of affection, which, nevertheless, shall not
carry me aside. And so I commend you to God's
goodness.
Your most loving and assured friend,
Fr. Bacon.
Gorhambury, April 12, 1617.
LORD KEEPER BACON TO MR. MAXEV, FELLOW
OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.*
After my hearty commendations, I having
heard of you, as a man well deserving, and of
able gifts to become profitable in the church, and
there being fallen within my gift the rectory of
Frome St. Quiniin, with the chapel of Evershot,
in Dorsetshire, which seems to be a thing of good
value, eighteen pounds in the king's books, and
in a good country, I have thought good to make
offer of it to you ; the rather for that you are of
Trinity College, whereof myself was some time:
and my purpose is to make choice of men rather
by care and inquiry, than by their own suits and
commendatory letters. So I bid you farewell.
From your loving friend,
Fr. Baco.n, C. S.
From Dorset House, April 23, 1617.
TO THE LORD KEEPER BACON ♦
My Lord, — If your man had been addressed
only to me, I should have been careful to have
procured him a more speedy despatch : but now
you have found another way of address, I am
excused ; and since you are grown weary of em-
ploying me, I can be no otherwise in being em-
ployed. In this business of my brother's, that
you overtrouble yourself with, I understand from
London, by some of my friends, that you have
carried yourself with much scorn and neglect both
toward myself and friends ; which, if it prove
true, I blame not you, but myself, who was ever
Your lordship's assured friend.
G. BurKINGHAM.
[July, 1617.]
* From the collections of the late Rol>ert Stephens, Esq.
t Ibid.
212
MISCELLANKOUS LETTERS.
TO HENRY CARY, LORD VISCOUNT FALKLAND •
My very good Lord,
Your lordship's letter was the best letter I re-
ceived this good while, except the last kind letter
from my lord of Buckingham, which this confirm-
eth. It is the best accident, one of them, amongst
men, when they hap to be obliged to those whom
naturally and personally they love, as 1 ever did
your lordship; in troth not many between my
lord marquis and yourself; so that the sparks of
my affection shall ever rest quick, under the ashes
of my fortune, to do you service : and wishing to
your fortune and family all good. Your lordship's
most affectionate, and much obliged, &c.
I pray your lordship to present my humble ser-
vice and thanks to my lord marquis, to whom,
when 1 have a little paused, I purpose to write ;
as likewise to his majesty, for whose health and
happiness, as his true beadsman,! most frequently
pray.
Endorsed,
March 11 — Copy of my a7\swer to Lord Falkland.
your advantage ; and if ynn can tliink of any thin^
to instruct my affection ana industry, your loru-
ship may have the more quick and handsome proof
of my sure and real intentions to serve you, being
indeed your lordship's affectionate servant,
Ed. Conway.
Royston, March 27, 1023.
SECRETARY CONWAY TO THE LORD VISCOUNT
ST. ALBAN4
Right Honourable,
I do so well remember the motives, why I pre-
sented you so with my humble service, and par-
ticular application of it to your particular use, as
I neither forget nor repent the offer. And I must
confess a greater quickening could not have been
added to my resolution to serve you, than the chal-
lenge you lay to my duty, to follow, in his ab-
sence, the affection of your most noble and hearty
friend the marquis.
1 lost no time to deliver your letter, and to con-
tribute the most advantageous arguments I could.
It seems your motion had been more than enough,
if a former engagement to Sir William Becher
upon the marquis his score had not opposed it.
I will give you his majesty's answer, which
was. That he could not value you so little, or con-
ceive you would have humbled your desires and
your worth so low. That it had been a great deal
of ease to him to have had such a scantling of your
mind, to which he could never have laid so une-
nual a measure. His majesty adding further, that
since your intentions moved that way, he would
study your accommodation. And it is not out of
hope, but that he may give some other content-
ment to Sir William Becher in due time, to ac-
commodate your lordship, of whom, to your
cumfort, it is my duty to tell you, his majesty
declared a good opinion, and princely care and
respect.
I will not fail to use time and opportunity to
* Appointed Lord Deputy of Ireland, September 8, 1622.
T Frnm the rollectiona of Robert Stephens, Esq., deceased.
The Jive following letters, wanting; both date and
circumstances to determine surh dates, are placed
here together.
TO THE LORD TREASURER.*
It may PLEAsr, your honourable Lordship,
I account myself much bound to your lordship
for your favour shown to Mr. Higgins upon my
commendations about Pawlet's wardship; the ef-
fect of which your lordship's favour, though it
hath been intercepted by my lord deputy's suit,
yet the signification remains: and I must in all
reason consent and icknowiedge, that your lord-
ship had as just and good cause to satisfy my lord
deputy's request, as I did think it unlikely, that
my lord would have been suitor for so nif^an a
matter.
So this being to none other end but to give your
lordship humble thanks for your intended favour,
I commend your lordship to the preservation of the
divine majesty.
From Gray's Inn.
TO SIR FRANCIS VERE.+
Sir : — I am to recommend to your favour one
Mr. John Ashe, as to serve under you, as agent
of your company : whose desire how much 1 do
affect, you may perceive if it be but in this, that
myself being no further interested in you, by ac-
quaintance or deserving, yet have intruded myself
into this commendation : which, if it shall take
place, I shall by so much the more find cause to
take it kindly, by how much I find less cause in
myself to take upon me the part of a mover or
commender towards you, whom, nevertheless, i
will not so far estrange myself from, but that in a
general or mutual respect, incident to persons of
our qualities and service, and not without particu-
lar inducements of friendship, I might, without
breaking decorum, offer to you a request of this
nature, the rather honouringyou so much for your
virtues, I would gladly take occasion to be be-
holden to yon ; yet no more gladly than to have
occasion to do you any good office. And so, this
being to no other end, 1 commend you to God's
goodness.
From my chamber at the
* From the original draught in the library of Queen's Col-
lege, Oxford. Arch. D. 2.
t Id. ib.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
213
TO MR. CAWFEILDE*
Sir, — I made full account to have seen you
here ihls reading, but your neither coming nor
sending the inlerr., as you undertook, I may per-
ceive) of a wonder. And you know super mirari
.aferunt philosophari. The redemption of both
tiiese conslsteth in the vouchsafing of your coming
up now, as soon as you conveniently can ; for now
I'S the time of conference and counsel. Besides,
if the course of the court be held super interrogat.
judieis, then must the interr. be ready ere the
commission be sealed ; and if the commission
proceed not forthwith, then will it be caught hold
of for further delay. I will not, by way of ad-
Tuittance, desire you to send, with all speed, the
interr., because I presume much of your coming,
which I hold necessary ; and, accordingly, pro
more amicttix, I desire you earnestly to have re-
gard both of the matter itself, and my so conceiv-
ing. And so, &c.
Your friend particularly.
TO MR. TOBIE MATTHEW.
Good Mr. Matthew,
The event of the business whereof you write,
isi it may be, for the best: for seeing my lord, of
himself, beginneth to come about, quorsum as
yetl I could not in my heart suffer my Lord
Digby to go hence without my thanks and ac-
knowledgments. I send my letter open, which I
pray seal and deliver. Particulars I would not
touch. Your most affectionate
and assured friend,
Fr. St. Alban.
•TO MY LORD MONTJOYEt
Mv VERY ROOD Lord,
Finding, by my last going to my lodge
at Twickenham, and tossing over my papers,
somewhat that I thought might like you, I had
neither leisure to perfect them, nor the patience
to expect leisure ; so desirous I was to make de-
monstration of my honour and love towards you,
and to increase your good love towards me. And
I would not have your lordship conceive, though
it be my manner and rule to keep state in con-
templative matters, siquls veneril nomine sun, euin
recipletis, tliat I think so well of the collection as
I seem to do: and yet I dare not take too much
from it, because I have chosen to dedicate it to
you. To be short, it is the honour I can do to
you at this time. And so I commend me to your
love and honourable friendship.
♦ From tlip orisinal draught in the library of Queen's Col-
lege, Oxlnrd. Arch. D. 2
t Qu'ry whether |)erceive.
X From the orieinal draught in the library of Queen's Col-
tege, r^xfoiA. Arch. D. 2.
TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR, AND THE LORD
MANUEVILLE, LORD TREASURER OF ENGLAND."
My HONOURABLE LoRDS,
His majesty is pleased, according to your lord-
ships' certificate, to rely upon your judgments,
and hath made choice of Sir Robert Lloyd, knight,
to be patentee and master of the office of engross-
ing the transcripts of all wills and inventories in
the prerogative courts, during his highness's plea-
sure, and to be accountable unto his majesty for
such profits as shall arise out of the same office.
And his majesty's farther pleasure is, that your
lordship forthwith proportion and set down, as
well a reasonable rate of fees for the subject to
pay for engrossing the said transcripts, as also
such fees as your lordship shall conceive fit to be
allowed to the said patentee for the charge of
clerks and ministers for execution of the said
office. And to this effect his majesty hath com-
manded me to signify his pleasure to his solicitor-
general,! ^° prepare a book for his majesty's
signature. And so, I bid your lordship heartily
well to fare, and remain
Your lordships' very loving friend,
G. Buckingham
Royston, December 17, 1G20.
TO THE REV. UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD t
Amongst the gratulations I have received, none
are more welcome and agreeable to me than your
letters, wherein, the less I acknowledge of those
attributes you give me, the more I must acknow-
ledge of your affection, which bindeth me no less
to you, that are professors of learning, than mine
own dedication doth to learning itself. And,
therefore, you have no need to doubt, but I will
emulate (as much as in me is) towards you the
merits of him that is gone, by how much the
more I take myself to have more propriety in the
principal motive thereof. And, for the equality
you write of, I shall, by the grace of God, (as far
as may concern me,) hold the balance as equally
between the two universities, as 1 shall hold the
balance of other justice between party and party.
And yet, in both cases, I must meet with some
inclinations of affection, which, nevertheless,
shall not carry me aside. And so. I commend
you to God's goodness.
Your most loving and assured friend
Fr. Bacon.
Gorhambury, April 12, 1617.
* Harl. MS3. vol. 7000.
t Sir Thomas Coventry.
t This and the following lettar are from the collectioM of
the late Robert Stephens, Esq., historiograph'T royal, and
John Locker, Esq., deceased, now in possession of the
editor.
214
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
TO THE LORD KEEPER BACON
My Lord, — If your man had been addressed
only to me, I should have been careful to have
procured him a more speedy despatch ; but, now
you have found another way of address, 1 am ex-
cused ; and since you are grown weary of employ-
ing me, I can be no otherwise in being employed.
In this business of my brother's, that you over
trouble yourself with, I understand from Iiondon,
by some of my friends, that you have carried
yourself with much scorn and neglect, both
towards myself and friends; which, if it prove
true, I blame not you, but myself, who was ever
Your lordship's assured friend,
G. Buckingham.
July, 1611
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO LORD NORRIS, IN AN-
SWER TO HIM.*
My Lord, — I am sorry of your misfortune,
and, for any thing that is within mine own com-
mand, your lordship may expect no other than the
respects of him that forgetteth not your lordship
is to him a near ally, and an ancient acquaintance,
client, and friend. For that which may concern
my place, which governeth me, and not I it; if
any thing be demanded at my hands, or directed,
or that I am, ex officio, to do any thing; if, I say,
it come to any of these three ; for, as yet, I am a
stranger to the business; yet, saving my duties,
wiiich I will never live to violate, your lordship
shall find, that I will observe those degrees and
limitations of proceeding which belongeth to him
that knoweth well he serveth a clement and mer-
ciful master, and that, in his own nature, shall
ever incline to the more benign part; and that
knoweth, also, what belongeth to nobility, and to
a house of such merit and reputation as the Lord
Norris is come from. And even so I remain
Your lordship's very loving friend.
Sept. 20, 1615.
SIR FRANCIS BACON TO THE KING.f
It may PLEASE YOUR EXCELLENT MaJESTY,
According to your majesty's reference signified
by Sir Roger Wilbraham, I have considered of
the petition of Sir Gilbert Houghton, your ma-
jesty's ser\ant, for a license of sole transportation
of tallow, butter, and hides, &c., out of your realm
of Ireland , and have had conference with the
Lord Chichester, late Lord Deputy of Ireland, and
likewise with Sir John Davies, your majesty's
attorney there. And this is that which I find.
First, That hides and skins may not be med-
dled withal, being a staple commodity of the
• From the collectiong of the late Robert Stephens, Esq.
4 Ibid
kingdom, wherein the towns are principaiij
interested.
Tliat for tallow, butter, beef, not understanding
it of live cattle, and pipe-staves, for upon these
things we fell, although they were not all con-
tained in the petition, but in respect liides were
more worth than all tlie rest, they were thought
of by way of some supply ; these commodities are
such as the kingdom may well spare, and in that
respect fit to be transported ; wherein, neverthe-
less, some consideration may be had of the profit,
that shall be taken upon the license. Neither do
I find, that the farmers of the customs there, of
which some of them were before me, did much
stand upon it, but seemed rather to give way to it.
I find, also, that at this time all these commo-
dities are free to be transported by proclamation.
80 as no profit can be made of it, except there be
first a restraint; which restraint I think fitter to
be by some prohibition in the letters patents, than
by any new proclamation ; and the said letters
patents to pass rather here than there, as it was
in the license of wines granted to the Lady Ara-
bella; but then those letters patents, to be enrolled
in the Chancery of Ireland, whereby exemplifica-
tions of them may be taken to be sent to the
ports.
All which, nevertheless, I submit to your ma-
jesty's better judgment.
YouT majesty's most humble
bounden subject and servant,
Fr. Bacon.
June 5, 1616.
THE LORD CHANCELLOR AND TWO CHIEF JUS-
TICES* TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
Our very good Lord,
It may please his majesty to call to mind, that
when we gave his majesty our last account of
Parliament business in his presence, we went
over the grievances of the last Parliament in 7mo,|
with our opinion by way of probable conjecture,
which of them are like to fall off, and which may
perchance stick and be renewed. And we did
also then acquaint his majesty, that we thought
it no less fit to take into consideration grievances
of like nature, which have sprung up since the
said last session, which are the more like to be
called upon, by how much they are the more
fresh, signifying withal, that they were of two
kinds ; some proclamations and commissions, and
many patents ; which, nevertheless, we did not
trouble his majesty withal in particular ; partly,
for that we were not then fully pre;>ared, (as being
a work of some length,) and partly, for that we
then desired and obtained leave of his majesty to
♦ Sir Henry Montagu, of the King's Bench, and Sir Henry
Hobart, of the Common Pleas.
t That which began February 9, 1609, and was prorogued
July 23, 1010.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
216
'►TTimunicate them with the council tabic. But
now since, I, tlic chancellor, rectivcd his majesty's
pleasure bj' iSecretary Calvert, that we should
first present them to his majesty witn some advice
thereupon provisionally, and as we are capable,
anil thereupon know his majesty's pleasure before
ihey he broufrht to the table, which is the work
of this despatch.
And hereupon his majesty may be likewise
pleased to call to mind, that we then said, and do
now also humbly make remonstrance to his ma-
jesty, that in this we do not so much express the
sense of our own minds or judjrments upon the
particulars, as we do personate the Lower House,
and cast with ourselves what is like to be stirred
there. And, therefore, if there be any thing-,
either in respect of the matter, or the persons,
that stands not so well with his majesty's good
liking, that his majesty would be grajMously
pleased not to impute it unto us ; and withal to
consider, that it is to this good end, that his ma-
jesty may either remove such of them, as in his
own princely judgment, or with the advice of his
council, he shall think fit to be removed ; or be the
better provided to carry through such of them as he
shall think fit to be maintained, in case they
should be moved, and so the less surprised.
First, therefore, to begin with the patents, we
find three sorts of patents, and those somewhat
frequent, since the session of 7mo, which in
^tnere we conceive may be most subject to excep-
tion of grievance; patents of old debts, patents of
concealments, and patents of monopolies, and for-
feitures for dispensations of penal laws, together
with some other particulars, which fall not so
properly under any one head.
In these three heads, we do humbly advise
several courses to be taken ; for the first two, of
old debts and concealments, for that they are in a
sort legal, though there may be found out some
point in law to overthrow them; yet it would be
a long business by course of law, and a matter
unusual by act of council, to call them in. But
that that moves us chiefly, to avoid the ques-
tioning them at the council table is, because if
they shall be taken away by the king's act, it
may let in upon him a flood of suitors for recom-
pense; whereas, if they be taken away at the
suit of the Parliament, and a law thereupon made,
it frees the king, and leaves him to give recom-
nense only where he shall be pleased to intend
grace. Wherefore we conceive the most conve-
nient way will be, if some grave and discreet
gentlemen of the country, such as have lost rela-
tion to the court, make, at fit times, some modest
motion touching the same; and that his majesty
would be graciously pleased to permit some law
to pass, (for the time past only, no ways touching
his majesty's regal power,) to free the subjects
from the same ; and so his majesty, after due
consultation, to give way unto it.
For the third, we do humbly advise, that such
of them as his majesty shall give way to have
called in, may be questioned before the council
table, either as granted contrary to his majesty's
book of bounty, or found since to have been
abused in the execution, or otherwise by experi-
ence discovered to be burdensome to the country.
But herein we shall add this farther humble
advice, that it be not done as matter of prepara-
tion to a Parliament; but that occasion be taken,
partly upon revising of the book of bounty, and
partly upon the fresh examples in Sir Henry
Yelverton's case of abuse and surreption in ob-
taining of patents ; and likewise, that it be but as
a continuance in conformity of the council's
former diligence and vigilancy, which hath
already stayed and revoked divers patents of like
nature, whereof we are ready to show the exam
pies. Thus, we conceive, his majesty shall keep
his greatness, and somewhat shall be done in
Parliament, and somewhat out of Parliament, as
the nature of the subject and business require.
We have sent his majesty herewith a schedule
of the particulars of these three kinds; wherein,
for the first two, we have set down all that we
could at this time discover : but in the latter, we
have chosen out but some, that are most in
speech, and do most tend, either to the vexation
of the common people, or the discountenancing
of our gentlemen and justices, the one being the
original, the other the representative of the
commons.
There being many more of like nature, but
not of like weight, nor so much rumoured, which,
to take away now in a blaze, will give more
scandal, that such things were granted, than
thanks, that they be now revoked.
And because all things may appear to his ma-
jesty in the true light, we have set down, as well
the suitors as the grants, and not only those in
whose names the patents were taken, but those
whom they concern, as far as comes to oui
knowledge.
For proclamations and commissions, they are
tender things; and we are willing to meddle with
them sparingly. For as for such as do but wait
upon patents, (wherein his majesty, as we con-
ceived, gave some approbation to have them
taken away,) it is better they fall away, by
taking away the patent itself, than otherwise;
for a proclamation cannot be revoked but by pro-
clamation, which we avoid.
For those commonwealth bills, which his ma-
jesty approved to be put in readiness, and some
other things, there will be time enough hereafter
to give his majesty account, and amongst them,
of the extent of his majesty's pardon, which, if
his subjects do their part, as we hope they will,
we do wish may be more liberal than of later
times, a pardon being the ancient remuneration in
Parliamsut.
tie
MISCELLANEOUS LETrERS.
T\\\\», l>«>|»iu}j l>H mujosty, out of lua jjruoloim
Mitd uoinmhinuHl lu<i)i}>iuiy< will ttivi>|)l of our
I'liilhl'iil oodtitvouiH. tiiu) Mtipply tlio r(>^t hy liia
own priiiooly wiiidoiit timl (lii-t>oiiou ; niul hImo
IuiiuIiIy |<raYint<' Iti^ iiii\j(>.sly, ihtil \vl)it|\ ho \n\\\\
\\\\\\nA{ ooi)si(li«rtu\ ol' our liutuMo itroposiiiooEt,
l«o will i>ivo UH louvo to impmi iliom all, or ns
nuioli as lio ahttll lliiuk Itl, to iho Kmlo of Win
oounoil, lor iho Iwttor Mtrtnikfth of liis) MorvitH*, w«
ooitoluilo with our pruyor^ for lu« majosly'ti happy
prt>aorvtttioi\, wml always »t*st, &o.
Kn>lor»«>«l,
Tht /or«/ fhonftUor ami Ml^ /«<» fMitf justicta to the
81U KUWtMS HAOt^N TO KINO JAMK8.«
May it tM.KA!«»! YOl'K KXrKM.KNT MaJKSTV,
I pon^oivo hy tlio Hiahop of" Hath «u«l Wolls,
that although it sooittcth ho hath «loaU in »n
«»lV«vln«l niaunor will) Poaoluun, yol hi' pivvailoili
Utllo hitlit^rio; lor Ito lutih jioltrn ot' him no now
itAnios, noiihor dotli IVaohani allor in hid tttlo
louohioij; Sir Jtthn Sydenham.
Poaohant siantloih olV in two umt«rt)U points
Tho ono, ho will not yot tliaoovor into whoso
hands ho ilnl pv«t his papors touohinij- ilio oonsis-
lory villanios. Thoy woh» not \\n\iu\ wilh tho
oihor hundlos upon llio soarx'h; noiihor did ho
ovor (Xty that ho had hurnod or dol'aood thoni.
Thort^l'ort* ii is liko thoy art> in sonn> poraon'a
hands; and it is liko a^jain, that that porsou tiiat
ho haih trus^«^d with th««o papois. Iio likowiso
InisiiHl wilh thoso oihors at* tho tr^aaouA, I i»OMit
with tho aiijht of thoin.
Tho othor, that ho tukoth tiujo to answor, whon
ho is asko«i, whothor ho lioanl n«>t from Mr.
Pnnlot aonto «nol) wo^ls, Mst, ho aaith, ho lioar\i
frtun Sir John Sydonhtuu, or iu sonio Ughtor i
inannor.
1 hold \i lit, that luysolf, ami nty foUowa, }V\> to
liio Towor, nnd so 1 purpo«o to oxHiuino liini upon
Uto«o points, and soino olhors ; at lottsl, that tho
world may t;>ko notioo Ihnt tho hiisuioss is fol-
low»d n« horoioforo, Mud Ut«t th« •!«)? of tho trial
)• upon furUtor diaoovviyi »QQ0i41ng to Umt w«
giw ouu
1 think mUo it war* not MiiiM to m«k« « Mf
Arts as if all thinga wofo iMdy kit hio goiit|r
dowit to his trial, and thitt hn wf>r« upon tho vm*
|ioint of brink; oarritni down« to ao^k whHt lliat
will work wilh him.
Lastly, 1 do think it mo
point prtnoipally to h« r«f«rdodt thM
l«v«t in an a>«x> whor»in no oovnaw) is kopt, and !
that it IS iruo thoni U MMno hmit nhn^d. that ih« i
todftM of Uio Kinf^a B«noli do doubt oi' tlio ca«n»«
• au CNkvM Utit) Witt*'* M«M«ri»t* amI Uiim*, ^ « !
that it should not h« tronaon; that it bo giten
out oonatantly, and yot iih it wort) a 8oor«)t, uiid ao
a I'amo to slido, that tho douht wan only upon ihd
puhlioaiion, in that it was iiovor pulilitihod, for
that (if your iiiajoaly niarivovh it) takoih away,
or li<asl t|iialiru>s tlio danj^or of Mio o\ainplo; (ot
that will ho no man's oaso.
This is all I oan do to tliridd your majrsty**
businoss wilh n continual and aoiilod oart<, turn-
iiii<' and ivturnin^, not wilh any \\\\t\fi in Uto
world, s;iv«> only tho occasions tlioinstlvos, and
your iiiajosty's good pli>aaurt>.
1 had no tiino to roport to your nuijosty, at your
boinu' h«>rt», tho husinoss roforrt>d, touohiinj Mr.
John Murray. 1 find a shrt>wd (trouiid of a title
against your majosty and tho patontoos of thoM
lands, hy tho oohoir of Tln>nias, Karl ol' North-
uinhorhuid : for 1 soo a fair doid, I find a n>«i«
aonahlo oonsidoration for iho making; tho aaid
dtH»d, boinij for llio advanoomont of his daunhtora;
tor that all tho possessions of tho oarldom wore
oniailod upon his hrolhor; 1 find it was inado
four yours hoforo his rt>hollioii; and I a«H> some
pndiahlo oauso why it hath slop! so lonjj. liut
Mr. Murray's potilion spoakoih only o\' the
moioty of Olio of tho oolioirs, whorounlo if your
majosty should jjivo way, you miijht ho proju-
diood in Uio oihor moioty. Thort>fort», if Mr. Murniy
oan i>vt powor of Uio wliolo, thoii it may ho saf«
for your majosty to givo way to tho trial of tho
ri}<ht; whon tlio wliolo shall ho suhinittt>d
to you.
Sir. Murnty ia my doar friond ; hut I must cut
ovon in thoso thinjfs, and so I know ho would
liiinsolf wish no oilior. iiinl prt^sorvo your
mt^joiity.
Your lunjosly's most humhlo and
dovot«Hl suhjivl and sorvani,
Fr. Uacun.
P*^ tM «, 1014.
TRANSUkTlON OF A LKTTKR Tl> THK COUNT OON.
l)0,M\R, AMRASaADOR FKOM THK tOl'RT OF
«PAIN.
M«VST lU.l'STHIOVS L0KI> AmHASSAIH>R,
Your lonlship's lovo to mo, both in ita wanuth
and purity, hath, 1 am woll assunx), bo«>n ify^t
oqual and unahonihloin pri^s|H'rity as in adversity ;
iu which rt^garxl 1 olVor ytui llio thanks so worlliily
and justly olainunl. Now that at oiuv my agv,
ray fortunes, and my ^Miius, to which 1 havo
hitherto done hut scanty justice, call mo fr^Mu tho
staj:>> of aciivo life, 1 shall devote myself to letters,
instruct tho act«»r« on it and serve p.^teriiy. L»
aw<d> a course I shall, jH^rhaps, find honour. And
1 ahull tlius paM my life as w ithin th«> vor^ of a
b«tt«r.
CSod pnMorvo your loixlsbip in aafoty ami
(uroapority. Your aorvant,
juM Mk. i«u Km. St. AtJUN
MISCKLLANKOIIS IJHTKRS.
an
TRANILATION OF A I.RTTEU TO COUNT (JON-
UOMAII.
MOHT II.I.IINTIIKirH AND KXtKl.l.KNi' l.(ll(l>,
1 Hoo tiiiil ttokiiowliul^o tlio (livinti iinividniu'ti
in rtuxiii^ up for iim tiiultr my iitu^r tlimortioii,
■ucli u friHiiil, Hoiit UK it w«<rii Iroiii li«nivoii, who,
iiivolvoil ill Hticti ^nntt conooriiH, mid with tiniti
■it vi<ry liiiiittut, hiiH ynt titkoii ait iiitort'Ht in my
fortiinoH, mill \uin I'lloi'lcil tliat Cor mn, whirh olhrr
frioiiilH «tithor daroil iiol iitlfm|il or uuuld not huvu
obtuiiicd.
Your lordsliip will t'lijoy th« Huitulilo uiid hiHt-
in^; fruit of Htu-h d('allll^ in your own nolilo ohu-
riu'.tt^r, HO prouo to nil tlui olIictiH of Hyinpiilliy nnd
honour. Nor will this, pi<rhiipH, Imi tlm l«*UHt
nnion(( your mxul di>iuls, tlmt liy your iiMsiHl.uirf
nnd favour you havo rairti<d and NtriMi^tlioiH'd iii«
onro ono unions tlin living;, mid who hIiuII not
ulto((oth(tr did to poHtorily. Wiiat r«<turn can 1
inakn ! 1 hIuiII at ItniHt i^vttr ho yourri, if not in
iimiful m-rviro, at loant in iuuirt and Kood winhtm.
The firo of my love for you will ri'inain ijuirk
uiidor llio ashiiHof my forluiin ; wlirnd'nri', I iuomI
humltly ^ri'ol you, iiiii you fari<W(dl, wish you all
proHpurity, rail hcavon to wilnt'MM my jrraliludti,
proiiiiHO all faithful ol)Hi>rvan(ui.
7W the m(i»l illunlriout and excelltiU Lord Didiinm
iStirminttt) dr Jlctnui^ (\iunt (iondnmtir, JlinhnnnH'
diir ll.vlniiirdinary of the Kiuiytf Spain tn I'ln^-
In ltd.
THANHl.ATION OI' A I.inTKR TO (^OlINT OON-
DOMAIt, TIIKN IN HPAIN.
MoHT II.I.IIKTIIIOIIH (-OUNT,
Many thin|rH iiiHpire mo with oonfidoncn, and
)>vt<n with chnorlul alacrity, in nddr«'HHiii(r you at
tiiiH tiiiio on tho Huhjxct of my fortunoH, mid
I'litrt'aiiiiir your friondly olllf(i«. Firnt, nnd prin-
i-ipallvi tliitt NiiK'o HO (^loHo an alliaiico htUwn'ii
iiiir Hiivi'ri'ij^iiH may now lio r(i),'ardcd an ilffini-
iivi'ly arratii(inl, you am hcnoino ho miii-h tlm moro
powerful advocatn; and I nhrink not now from
owin;; all my fortunoH to bo (frnat h man, thon|rh
not my own countryman, nnd from ronfttHHiii^ tho
iplili^ation. Siicondly, SiniM* that proiuino of in-
iIuIkoiicch which your lordNhip whilo in thiH
country obtained for mc, hui not been succuedud
hy rHpuUcM, nor on the other hand been eoin-
pletely fulfilled, it would Heein from ihiN aM if Ihn
divine providence inteiidtid that the work of
reNciiin<{ me from my minery wan to he youtH in
itH end, aM in ilH heKiiining. 'riiirdly, liecauNo
tlioHo two atttrH which have ever been pro|iitiou>t
to MM), the ifnmter and the leHH are now nhiniii^f
in your city, and thiin hy the aHNiBliiiir and Im-
ni|rnaiit rayw of your fiii<iiilNhip, they may aci|uirii
an inlluence on my fnrtuiteH, which Nhall riNtore
ine to a place in the Hcale of favour, not unlie-
filling my forimr elevalion. Fourlhly, hccauHo
1 learn from the h^terM you liave litely written
to my intimate friend, Sir Tohy Matthew, that
yon chcrisli a lively and warm niiicmhrance of
me, which has millicr hen ovirwiielmtd nor
extinKuiNJU'd, und(>r the wei(r|it nf ihone iiij^li and
Huhlime intcrcHlH which roHt on your lunlHliip.
haHtly, too, there iw thin circuniMtance that Hincn,
hy the frieiiilHhip of the excidlent lord mari|uiM,
1 have been admiltrd to Hee and convtUHe with
my Kiiijj, I feel an if I were once more eHtahliKJied
in favour. The kiii({ did nut Npcak lo me aH a
(Tuiliy man, hut an a man thrown down hy H
tempcHt; and withal in Imh iiddreMM to me ha
ai^knowled^ed at ^reat l«ui|{tli, and, aH it Heeiiied,
with Miinriilar tenderiieHH, my Hieady and invaria-
ble coiirHo of iiiduNlry and iiite)rrity. Whence
the (rrealcr hope Npriii(rH up within me, that hy
the continuance of my HovurtMKii'H regard, and
the extinction of o<liiiiii hy the lapmi of time,
your excellency'H elVortH for me will not he made
in vain. Mennwhile, I have neither Hiiiik into
indolence, nor impertinently mixed mynelf with
iiHairH, hut 1 live and am aliHorhed in laliourH not
at all dero^^atory to the lioiiuurH I have borne, and
which nhall perhajiH leave no unpleaHinjr nifinory
of my name to poHlerity. I liope, therefore, that
1 nm no unworthy object, on which to dinplay
nnd Hi[;riiali7,e at once the iiitliience of your jtower
and frienilHhip : ho that it HJiall be apparent, that
you have no Ichh coiitr(d over the furliiiieM of n
private man, than over public ineaHureM. Mny
(Jod prcHcrvo your excellency, and crown you
with all liappineHH.
Kiiili>ri«<l,
My Itttrd St. Jill>iin''» Jint tettrr to (Jundumur iXu
Spain.
Mttfch UHih, inUS.
Vol. III.— W
LAW TRACTS-
THE ELEMENTS
or
THE COMMON LAWS OF ENGLAND,
BRANCHED INTO A DOUBLE TRACT :
CONTAINMNG A COLLECTION OF SOME PRINCIPAL RULES AND MAXIMS OF THE COMMON LAW,
WITH THEIR LATITUDE AND EXTENT;
EXPLICATED FOR THE MORE FACILE INTRODUCTION OF Sl'CH AS ARK STUDIOUSLY ADDICTED
TO THAT NOBLE PBaFGSBION.
THE OTHER, THE USE OF THE COMMON LAW, FOR THE PRESERVATION OF OUR PERSONS, GOODS,
AND GOOD NAMES,
ACCORDING TO THE LAWS AND CUSTOMS OF THIS LAND.
TO HER SACRED MAJESTY.
I DO here most humbly present and dedicate to your sacred majesty a sheaf and cluster of fruit of
the good and favourable season, which, by the influence of your happy government, we enjoy; for
if it be true, that silent les;es inter arma, it is also as true, that your majesty is, in a double respect,
the life of our laws; once, because without your authority they are but litera morlua,- and again,
because you are the life of our peace, without which laws are put to silence. And as the vital
spirits do not only maintain and move the body, but also contend to perfect and renew it, so your
sacred majesty, who is anirna legis, doth not only give unto your laws force and vigour, but also
hath been careful of their amendment and reforming; wherein your majesty's proceeding may be
compared, as in that part of your government, (for if your government be considered in all the parts,
it is incomparable,) with the former doings of the most excellent princes that ever have reigned,
whose study altogether hath been always to adorn and honour times of peace with the amendment
of the policy of their laws. Of this proceeding in Augustus Caesar the testimony yet remains.
Pare data terris, aniinum ad civilia vertit
Jura suuin; legesqiie tulit justissiinus auctor.
Hence was collected the difference between iresia in armis and acta in tosa, whereof he dispnteth thus :
Ecquid est, quod tarn propric did potest actum ejus qui ios^atus in republica cum potestate itnperiogue
versattis sit qunmlex? quaere acta Gracchi ? le^es Sempronii profcraniur. Quscre Syllae.- Corneliae?
Quid? Cn, Pom. tertius consulatus in quibus actis consistet? nempe in It^ibus.- d Cwsare ipso si
quivreres quldnam Cf^isset in urbe, et in toga: leges multas se responderel, et praeclaras tulisse.
The same desire long after did spring in the Emperor Justinian, being rightly called ultimus impc-
ratorum Romanorum, who, having peace in the heart of his empire, and making his wars prosper-
ously in the remote places of his dominions by his lieutenants, chose it for a monument and honour
of his government, to revise the Roman laws, from infinite volumes and much repugnancy, into one
competent and uniform corps of law; of which matter himself doth speak gloriously, and yet aptly;
calling it, proprium et sanclissimum templum justitiae consecratum.- a work of great excellency indeed,
as m.iy well appear, in that France, Italy, and Spain, which have long since shaken off the yoke of
the Roman empire, do yet, nevertheless, continue to use the policy of that law : but raoie excellent
had the work been, save that the more ignorant and obscure time undertook to correct the more
learned and flourishing time. To conclude with the domestical example of one of your majesty's
royal ancestors : King Edward I., your majesty's famous progenitor, and the principal lawgiver o»'
219
220 THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY.
our nation, after he had in his younger years oriven himself satisfaction in the glory of aims, by the
•enterprise of the Holy Land, and having inward peace, otherwise than for the invasions which him-
self made upon Wales and Scotland, parts far distant from the centre of the realm, be bent himself
fo endow his state with sundry notable and fundamental laws, upon which the government hath ever
since principally rested. Of this example, and others like, two reasons may be given; the one, be-
<!ause that kings, which, neither by the moderation of their natures, or the maturity of their years
and judgment, do temper their magnanimity with justice, do wisely consider and conceive of the
exploits of ambitious wars, as actions rather great than good ; and so, distasted with that course of
winning honour, they convert their minds rather to do somewhat for the better uniting of human society,
than for the dissolving or disturbing of the same. Another reason is, because times of peace, for
the most part drawing with them abundance of wealth and finesse of cunning, do draw also, in
further consequence, multitude of suits'and controversies, and abuses of laws by evasions and de-
vices ; w hich inconveniences in such time growing more general, do more instantly solicit for the
amendment of laws to restrain and repress them.
Your majesty's reign having been blest from the Highest with inward peace, and falling into an
age wherein, if science be increased, conscience is ratlier decayed; and if men's wits be great, their
wills be greater; and wherein also laws are multiplied in number, and slackened in vigour and
execution; it was not possible but that not only suits in law should multiply and increase, whereof
a great part are always unjust, but also that all the indirect courses and practices to abuse law and jus-
tice should have been much attempted and put in ure, which no doubt had bred greater enormities, had
they not, by the royal policy of your majesty, by the censure and foresight of your council table and
Star Chamber, and by the gravity and integrity of your benches, been repressed and restrained : for it
may be truly observed, that, as concerning frauds in contracts, bargains, and assurances, and abuses
of laws by delays, covins, vexations and corruptions in informers, jurors, ministers of justice, and
the like, there have been sundry excellent statutes made in your majesty's time, more in number,
and more politic in provision, than in any your majesty's predecessors' times.
But I am an unworthy witness to your majesty of a higher intention and project, both by that
which was published by your chancellor in full Parliament from your royal mouth, in the five-and-
thirtieth of your happy reign; and much more by that which I have been since vouchsafed to under-
stand from your majesty, imparting a purpose for these many years infused into your majesty's
breast, to enter into a general amendment of the states of your laws, and to reduce them to more
brevity and certainty, that the great hollowness and unsafety in assurances of lands and goods may
be strengthened, the swarving penalties, that lie upon many subjects, removed, the execution of
many profitable laws revived, the judge better directed in his sentence, the counsellor better warrant-
ed in his counsel, the student eased in his reading, the contentious suitor, that seeketh but vexation,
disarmed, and the honest suitor, that seeketh but to obtain his right, relieved ; which purpose and
intention, as it did strike me with great admiration when I heard it, so it might be acknowledged to
be one of the most chosen works, and of the highest merit and beneficence towards the subject, that
ever entered into th" mind of any king; greater than we can imagine, because the imperfections and
dangers of the laws are covered under the clemency and excellent temper of your majesty's govern-
ment. And though there be rare precedents of it in government, as it cometh to pass in things so
excellent, there being no precedent full in view but of Justinian; yet I must say, as Cicero said to
Caesar, Nihil vulu;atum fe dignum videri potest,- and as it is no doubt a precious seed sown in your
majesty's heart by the hand of God's divine majesty, so, I hope, in the maturity of your majesty's
own time it will come up and bear fruit. But, to return thence whither I have been carried ; ob-
serving in your majesty, upon so notable proofs and grounds, this disposition in general of a prudent
and royal regard to the amendment of your laws, and having, by my private labour and travel, col-
lected many of the grounds of the common laws, the better to establish and settle a certain sense of
law, which doth now too much waver in uncertainty, I conceived the nature of the subject, besides
my particular obligation, was such, as I ought not to dedicate the same to any other than to your
sacred majesty; both because, though the collection be mine, yet the laws are yours; and because it
is your majesty's reign that hath been as a goodly seasonable spring weather to the advancing of all
excellent arts of peace. And so, concluding with a prayer answerable to the present argument,
which is, that God will continue your majesty's reign in a happy and renowned peace, and that he
will guide both your policy and arms to purchase the continuance of it with surety and honour, 1
must humbly crave pardon, and commend your majesty to the Divine preservation.
Your sacred majesty's most humble and obedient subject and servant,
Francis Bacon.
THE PREFACE.
I HOLD every man a dobtor to his profession ; from the which, as men of course do seek to rectivo
countenance and profit, so oujrht they of duty to endeavour themselves, by way of amends, to be a
tielp and ornament tliereunto. This is performed in some degree by the lionest and liberal practice
of a profession, when men shall carry a respect not to descend into any course that is corrupt and
unworthy thereof, and preserve themselves free from the abuses wherewith the same profession is
mited to be infected ; but much more is this performed if a man be able to visit and strengthen the
roots and foundation of the science itself; thereby not only gracing it in reputation and dignity, but
•also amplifying it in perfection and substance. Having, therefore, from the beginning, come to the
study of the laws of this realm, with a desire no less, if I could attain unto it, that the same laws
should be the better for my industry, tlian that myself should be the better for the knowledge of
them ; I do not find that, by mine own travel, without the help of authority, I can in any kind confer
S') profitable an addition unto that science, as by collecting the rules and grounds dispersed through-
out the body of the same laws; for hereby no small light will be given in new cases, wherein the
authorities do square and vary, to confirm the law, and to make it received one way ; and in cases
wherein the law is cleared by authority, yet, nevertheless, to see more profoundly into the reason
of such judgments and ruled cases, and thereby to make more use of them for the decision of other
cases more doubtful ; so that the uncertainty of law, which is the principal and most just challenge
tl'.at is made to the laws of our nation at this time, will, by this new strength laid to the foundation,
he somewhat the m.ore settled and corrected. Neither will the use hereof be only in deciding of
doubts, and helping soundness of judgment, but further in gracing of argument, in correcting unpro-
fitable subtlety, and reducing the same to a more sound and substantial sense of law; in reclaiming
vulgar errors, and generally the amendment in some measure of the very nature and complexion of
the whole law: and, therefore, the conclusions of reason of this kind are worthily and aptly called
by a great civilian Ieu;um ki^cs, laws of laws, for that many placita ku;tim, that is, particular and posi-
tive learnings of laws, do easily decline from a good temper of justice, if they be not reccified and
governed by such rules.
Now for the manner of setting down of them, I have in all points, to the best of my understanding
and foresight, applied myself not to that which might seem most for the ostentation of mine own
wit or knowledge, but to that which may yield most use and profit to the students and professors of
our laws.
And, therefore, whereas these rules are some of them ordinary and vulgar, that now serve but for
•rrnuiuis and plain songs to the more shallow and impertinent sort of arguments; other of them are
.; ithered and extracted out of the harmony and congruity of cases, and are such as the wisest and
deepest sort of lawyers have in judgment and use, though they be not able many times to express
and set them down.
For tlie former sort, which a man that should rather write to raise a high opinion of himself, than
to instruct others, would have omitted, as trite and within every man's compass; yet, nevertheless,
I have not affected to neglect them, but have chosen out of them such as I thought good : I have
r.d need them to a true application, limiting and defining their bounds, that they may not be read
upon at large, but restrained to point of difference; for as, both in the law and other sciences, the
handling of questions by commonplace, without aim or application, is the weakest; so yet, never-
theless, many common principles and generalities are not to be contemned, if thev be well derived
and reduced into particulars, and their limits and exclusions duly assigned ; for there be two con-
trary fauUs and extremities in the debating and sifting out of the law, which may be best noted in
two several manner of arguments. Some argue upon general grounds, and come not near the point
in question : others, without laj'ing any foundation of a ground or difference, do loosely put cases,
wliicli, though they go near the point, yet, being put so scattered, prove not, but rather serve to make
llie law appear more doubtful than to make it more plain.
Secondly, Whereas some of these rules have a concurrence with the civil Roman law, and some
:)thers a diversity, and many times an opposition, such grounds which are common to our law and
theirs, I have not affected to disguise into other words than the civilians use, to the end thev might
seem invented by me, and not borrowed or translated from them : no, but 1 took hold of it as a mat-
ter of great authority and majesty, to see and consider the concordance between the laws penned,
and as it were dictated verbatim, by the same reason. On the other side, the diversities between tha
civil Roman rules of law and ours, happening either when there is such an indifferency of reason 60
221
222 PREFACE.
equally oa.anced, as the one .aw embraceth one course, and the other the contrary, and both just,
after either is once positive and certain, or where the laws vary in regard of accommodating the law
to the dilferent considerations of estate, I have not omitted to set down.
Thirdly, Whereas I could have digested these rules into a certain method or order, which, I know,
would have been more admired, as that which would have made every particular rule, through co-
•:erence and relation unto other rules, seem more cunning and deep; yet I have avoided so to do,
because this delivering of knowledge in distinct and disjoined aphorisms doth leave the wit of man
more free to turn and toss, and to make use of that which is so delivered to more several purposes
<ind applications ; for we see that all the ancient wisdom and science was wont to be delivered in
that form, as may be seen by the parables of Solomon, and by the aphorisms of Hippocrates, and
the moral verses of Theognes and Phocylides ; but chiefly the precedent of the civil law, which
hath taken the same course with their rules, did confirm me in my opinion.
Fourthly, Whereas I know very well it would have been more plausible and more current, if the
rules, with the expositions of them, had been set down either in Latin or in F^ngiish ; tluit the harsh-
ness of the language might not have disgraced the matter; and that civilians, statesmen, scholars,
and other sensible men might not have been barred from them; yet I have forsaken that grace and
ornament of them, and only taken this course : the rules themselves I have put in Latin, not purified
lurther than the property of the terms of the law would permit; but Latin, which language I chose,
as tiie briefest to contrive the rules compendiously, the aptestfor memory, and of the greatest author-
ity and majesty to be avouched and alleged in argument : and for the expositions and distinctions, I
have retained the peculiar language of our law, because it should not be singular among the books
of the same science, and because it is most familiar to the students and professors thereof, and
because that it is most significant to express conceits of law ; and to conclude, it is a language
wherein a man shall not be enticed to hunt after words but matter; and for the excluding of any
other than professed lawyers, it was better manners to exclude them by the strangeness of the
language, than by the obscurity of the conceit ; which is as though it had been written in no private
and retired language, yet by those that are not lawyers would for the most part not have been under-
stood, or, which is worse, mistaken.
Fifthly, Whereas I might have made more flourish and ostentation of reading, to have vouched the
authorities, and sometimes to have enforced or noted upon them, yet I have abstained from that also ;
and the reason is, because I judged it a matter undue and preposterous to prove rules and maxims;
wherein I had the example of Mr. Littleton and Mr. Fitzherbert, whose writings are the institutions
of the laws of England; whereof the one forbeareth to vouch any authority altogether; the other
never reciteth a book, but when he thinketh the case so weak of credit in itself as it needs a surety ;
and these two I did far more esteem than Mr. Perkins or Mr. Standford, that have done the contrary.
Well will it appear to those that are learned in the laws, that many of the cases are judged cases,
either within the books, or of fresh report, and most of them fortified by judged cases and similitude
of reason ; though, in some f^w cases, I did intend expressly to weigh down the authority by evidence
of reason, and therein rather to correct the law, than either to soothe a received error, or by unprofit-
able subtlety, which corrupteth the sense ol law, to reconcile contrarieties. For these reasons I
resolved not to derogate from the authority of the rules, by vouching of any of the authority of the
cases, though in mine own copy I had them quoted : for, although the meanness of mine own person
may now at first extenuate the authority of this collection, and that every man is adventurous to con-
trol ; yet, surely, according to Gamaliel's reason, if it be of weight, time will settle and authorize it;
if it be light and weak, time will reprove it. So that, to conclude, you have here a work without any
glory of aflfected novelty, or of method, or of language, or of quotations and authorities, dedicated
only to use, and submitted only to the censure of the learned, and chiefly of time.
lastly, There is one point above all the rest I account the most material for making these reasons
indeed profitable and instructing; which is, that they be not set down alone, like short, dark oracles,
which every man will be content still to allow to be true, but in the mean time they give little light
or direction f but I have attended them, a matter not practised, no, not in the civil law, to any pur-
pose, and for want whereof, indeed, the rules are but as proverbs, and many times plain fallacies,
with a clear and perspicuous exposition, breaking them into cases, and opening them with distinc-
tions, and sometimes showing the reasons above, whereupon they depend, and the aflinity they
have with other rules. And though 1 have thus, with as good discretion and foresight as I could,
ordered this work, and, as I miglitsay, without all colours or shows, husbanded it host to profit;
yet, nevertheless, not wholly trusting to mine own judgment; having collected three hundred of
them, I thought good, before I brought them all into form, to publish some few, that, by the taste of
other men's opinions in this first, I might receive either approbation in mine own course, or better
advice for the altering of the other which remain ; for it is a great reason that that wnich 's intended
*jb th? profit of others should be guided by the conceits of others.
THE MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
REGULA I.
In jure non remuta causa, sed proxima spectatur.
It were infinite for llie law to judge the causes
of causes, and their impulsions one of another ;
llierefore, it contenteth itself with the immediate
cause, and judgeth of acts by that, without
looking to any further degree.
6 H. 8 uy. -^^ '^ ^" annuity be granted pro con-
fo. i.ctA j,7j-q inipcmo et iinpcndcndu, and the
irrantee commit treason, whereby he is imprison-
ed, 80 that the grantor cannot have access unto
him for his counsel ; yet, nevertheless, the annui-
ty is not determined by this nun-ftasance ,• yet it
was the grantee's act and default to commit the
treason, whereby the imprisonment grew : but
the law looketh not so far, but excuseth him,
because the not giving counsel w as compulsory,
and not voluntary, in regard of the imprisonment.
So if a parson make a lease, and be
Ult. ap. ni.. , . , ' ,
cuui. 2H. 4. 3. deprived, or resign, the successors
shall avoid the lease ; and yet the
cause of deprivation, and more strongly of a
resignation, moved from the party himself; but
the law regardeth not that, because the admis-
sion of the new incumbent is the act of the
ordinary.
So if I be seised of an advowson in gross, and
a usurpation be had against me, and at the next
avoidance I usurp arere, I shall be remitted : and
yet the presentation, which is the act remote, is
mine own act; but the admission of my clerk,
whereby the inheritance is reduced to me, is the
act of the ordinary.
So if I covenant with I. S. a stran-
ger, in consideration of natural love to
my son, to stand seised of the use of the said I. S.
to the intent he shall enfeoff my son ; by this no
use ariseth to I. S. because the law doth respect
that there is no immediate consideration between
i(ie and I. S.
WH.4.4H.I. So if I be bound to enter into a sta-
"''■'■ lute before the mayor of the staple at
such d day, for the security of one hundred
pounds, and the obligee, before the day, accept
of me a lease of a house in satisfaction ; this is
no plea in debt upon my obligation: and yet the
end of tlnU st ilute was but security of money ;
Out because the entering into this statute itself.
which is the immediate act whereto I ani onund.
is a corporal act which lieth not in satisfaction ;
therefore, the law taketh no consideration thaf
the remote intent was for money.
So if 1 make a feoffment in fee, upon M.40ei4i.Ei.
condition that the feoffee shall enfeoff toi-'ra^rT
over, and the feoffee be disseised, and ^^^^^1^1^
a descent cast, and then the feoffee 'SufCokejiS-z!
bind himself in a statute, which statute is dis-
charged before the recovery of the land : this ia
no breach of the condition, because the land was
never ^laule to the statute, and the possibility
that it should be liable upon the recovery the law
doth not respect.
So if I enfeoff two, upon condition to enfeoff
and one of them take a wife, the condition is not
broken ; and yet there is a remote possibility that
the joint-tenant may die, and tlien the feme is
entitled to dower.
So if a man purchase land in fee-simple, and
die without issue; in the first degree the law
respecteth dignity of sex, and not proximity ; and
therefore the remote heir, on the part of the-father,
shall have it before the near heir on the part of
the mother: but, in any degree paramount the
first the law respecteth not, and therefore the near
heir by the grandmother, on the part of the father,
shall have it, before the remote heir of the grand-
father on the part of the father.
This rule faileth in covinous acts, which,
though they be conveyed through many degrees
and reaches, yet the law taketh heed to the cor-
rupt beginning, and counteth all as one entire act.
As if a feoffment be made of lands 37 ,^ D,ct»'i
held by knight's service to I. S. upon <^"«. <*■'«'•
condition that he, within a certain time, shall
enfeoff I. D. which feoffment to I. D. shall be to
the use of the wife of tlie first feoffor tor her joint-
ure, &c. ; this, feoffment is within the statute of
32 H. VIII. nam dolus ei'reuitu non jnirgalur.
Iri like manner this rule holdeth not in crimi-
nal acts, except they have a full interruption ;
because when the intention is matter of substance.
j and that which the law doth principally behold,
j there the first motive will he principally regarded,
and not the last impulsion. As if I. S.
I of malice prepense discharge a pistol «iri™m"eii*I
at I. D. and miss him, whereupon he
throws down his pistol and flies, and l.D.pursueih
him to kill him, whereupon he turneth and killelh
_ I. D. with a dagger; if the law should consider
223
224
MAXIMS Ol*" THE LAW.
the last impulsive cause, it should say that il
was in his own defence : but the law is otherwise,
for it is but a pursuance and execution of the first
murderous intent.
But if I. S. had fallen down, his
datrger drawn, and I. D. had fallen by
haste upon his dagcrer, there I. D. had been fdo
ae se, and I. S. shall go quit.
Also, you may not confound the act with the
execution of the act ; nor the entire act with the
last part, or the consummation of the act.
lit. cap. Jed* For if a disseisor enter into religion,
-'""• the immediate cause is from the party,
though the descent be cast in law ; but the law
doth but execute the act which the party pro-
cureth, and therefore the descent shall not bind,
el sic e convcrso.
If a lease for years be made render-
21 Eliz. . , , , . ,• „.
ing a rent, and the lessee make a teoff-
ment of part, and the lessor enter, the immediate
a H. 8. fo. 4. cause is from the law in respect of the
Df. 21. R. forfeiture, though the entry ^e the act
of the party ; but that is but the pursuance and
putting in execution of the title which the law
giveth : and therefore the rent or condition shall
be apportioned.
So, in the binding of a right by a descent, you
are to consider the whole time from the disseisin
to the descent cast; and if, at all times, the per-
son be not privileged, the descent binds.
9H. 7. 24 Set And, thcrcforc, if a feme covert be
•.heiM.Dr.i43. (Jjsseised, and the baron dieth, and she
taketh a new husband, and then the descent is
cast : of if a man that is not infra quatuor marta,
be disseised, and return into p]ngland, and go
over sea again, and then a descent is cast, this
descent bindeth, because of the interim when the
persons might have entered ; and the law respect-
eth not the state of the person at the last time of
tlie descent cast, but a continuance from the very
disseised to the descent.
4etsp. etM. ^'^ if baron and feme be, and they
uj.-.ia. jgjjj jp 3 feoffment of the wife s land
rendering a rent, and the baron die, and the feme
take a new husband before any rent-day, and he '
accepteth the rent, the feoffment is affirmed for- I
ever. '
REGULA II. I
Non potest adduci exceptto ejusdcm rei, cujus peti-
tur dissolulio \
It were impertinent and contrary in itself, for
the law to allow of a plea in bar of such matter as
is to be defeated by the same suit; for it is in-
cluded • otherwise a man should never come to I
the end and effect of his suit, but be cut off in the
way. I
And, therefore, if tenant in tail of a manor,
whereunto a villain is regardant, discontinue and
die, and theright of the entail descend unto the
villain himself, who brings formedon, and the
aiscontinuee pleadelh villanage; this is no plea,
because the divesting of the manor, which is the
intent of the suit, doth include this plea, because
i it determineth the villanage.
i So if a tenant in ancient demesne be
Ulisseised by the lord, whereby the ^^■^■
seigniory is suspendtnl, and the disseisee brino'
j ills assize in the court of the lord, frank fee is no
; plea, because the suit is brouglit to undo the dis-
seisin, and so to revive the seigniory in ancient
! demesne.
So if a man be attainted and exe- 7h. 4397H.
cuted,and the heir bring error upon the ^•"•
attainder, and corruption of blood by the same
attainder be pleaded, to interrupt his conveying
in the same writ of error ; this is no plea, for tlien
he were without remedy ever to reverse the
attainder.
So if tenant in tail discontinue for
life rendering rent, and the issue brings
formcdon, and the warranty of his ancestor with
assets is pleaded against him, and the assets is
layed to be no other but his reversion with the
rent ; this is no plea, because the formedon, which
is brought to undo this discontinuance, doth
inclusively undo this new reversion in fee, with
the rent thereunto annexed.
But whether this rule may take place where
the matter of the plea is not to be avoided in the
same suit, but another suit, is doubtful ; and I
rather take the law to be, that this rule doth ex-
tend to such cases ; for otherwise, the party were
at a mischief, in respect the exceptions and bars
might be pleaded cross, either of them, in the
contrary suit; and so, the party altogether pre-
vented and intercepted to come by his right.
So if a man be attainted by two several attain-
ders, and there is error in them both, there is no
reason but there should be a remedy open for the
heir to reverse those attainders being erroneous, as
well if they he twenty as one.
And, therefore, if in a writ of error brought by
the heir of one of them, the attainder should bei
plea peremptorily ; and so again, if in error
brought of that other, the former should be a plea;
these were to exclude him utterly of his right;
and therefore it shall be a good replication to say,
that he hath a writ of error depending of that also,
and so the court shall proceed : but no judgment
shall be given till both pleas be discussed; and
if either plea be found without error, there shall
be no reversal either of the one or of the other ;
and if he discontinue either writ, than shall it b-i
no lono-er a plea ; and so of several outlawries in
a personal action.
And this seemeth to me more reasonable, thar»
that generally an outlawry or an attainder should
be no plea in a writ of error brought upon a di-
verse outlawry or attainder, as 7 H. IV. and 7 H
VI, seem to hold ; for that is a remedy too large
for the mischief; for there is no reason but if any
MAXIMS OF THK LAW.
2*i6
of the outlawries or attainders be indeed without
error, but it should be a peremptory plea to the
person in a writ of error, as well as in any other
action. I
Hut if a man levy a fine sur conusaunee de droit '
com'' ccn que il ad d> son done, and suffer a recove-
ry ot the same lands, and there be error in them
both, he cannot bring error first of the fine, be- I
cause, by the recovery, his title of error is dis- \
charged and released in law inclusive but he must
begin with the error upon the recovery,
wliich he may do, because a fine exe-
cuted barreth no titles that accrue de puisne terns
after the fine levied, and so restore himself to his
title of error upon the fine: but so it is not in the
former case of the attainder; for a writ of error to a
former attainder is not given away by a second, ex-
cept it be l.y express words of an act of Parliament,
but only it remaineth a plea to his person while
he livelh, and to the conveyance of his heir after
his death.
But if a man levy a fine where he hath nothing
in the land, which inureth by way of conclusion
only, and is executory ag-ainst all purchases and
new titles which shall grow to the conusor after-
wards, and he purchase the land, and suffer a
recovery to the conusee, and in both fine and re-
covery there is error ; this fine is Janus bifrons,
and will look forwards, and bar him of his writ
of error brought of the recovery ; and therefore it
will come to the reason of the first case of the
attainder, that he must reply, that he hath a writ
also depending of the same fine, and so demand
judgment.
16 E. 3. T"" return to our first purpose, like
Kill. Mr, 45. ]a^ jg it jf tenant in tail of two acres
make two several discontinuances to several per-
sons for life rendering a rent, and bringeth a for-
medon of both, and in formedon brought of white
acre the reversion and rent reserved upon black
acre is pleaded, and so contrary : I take it to be
a good replication, that ho hath formedon also
upon that depending, whereunto the tenant hath
pleaded the descent of the reversion of white acre ;
and so neither shall be a bar: and yet there is no
doubt but if in a formedon the warranty of tenant
in tail with assets be pleaded, it is no replication
fir the issue to say, that a praecipe dependeth
brounrht by I. S. to evict the assets.
But the former case standeth upon the particu-
lar reason before mentioned.
REGIT LA IIL
Verba fortius accipiuntur contra proferentem.
This rule, that a man's deeds and his words
shall be taken strongliest against himself, though
it be one of the most common grounds of the law,
it is notwithstanding a rule drawn out of the
depth of reason ; Oft', first, it is a schoolmaster of
wisdom and diligence in making men watchful
in their own business; next, il is the author of
Vol. Ill 29
much quiet and certainty, and that in tw« sorts;
first, because it favoureth acts and conveyances
executed, taking them still beneficially for tho
grantees and possessors : and secondly, because it
makes an end of many questions and doubts about
construction of words ; for if the labour were only
to pick out the intention of the parties, every
judge would have a several sense; whereas this
rule doth give them a sway to take the law more
certainly one way.
But this rule, as all other which are very gene-
ral, is but a sound in the air, and cometh in some-
times to help and make up other reasons without
any great instruction or direction; except it be
duly conceived in point of difference, where it
taketh place, and where not. And first we will
examine it in grants, and then in pleadings.
The force of this rule is in tliree things, in am-
biguity of words, in implication t)f matter, and
deducing or qualifying the exposition of such
grants as were against the law, if they were taken
according to their words.
And, therefore, if I. S. submit him- jr 3 is.
self to abitrement of all actions and ^'""-^
suits between him and I. D. and I. N. it rests
ambiguous whether this submission shall be in-
tended collective of joint actions only, or distribu-
tive of several actions also; but because the
words shall be strongliest taken against I. S. that
speaks them, it shall be understood of both: for
if I. S. had submitted himself to abitrement of all
actions and suits which he hath now depending,
except it be such as are between him and I. D.
and I. N. now it shall be understood collective
only of joint actions, because in the other case
large construction was hardest against him that
speaks, and in this case strict construction is
hardest.
So if I grant ten pounds rent to
baron and feme, and if the baron die
that the feme shall have three pounds rent,
because these words rest ambiguous whether I
intend three pounds by way of increase, or three
pounds by way of restraint and abatement of the
former rent of ten pounds, it shall be taken
strongliest against me that am the grantor, that is
three pounds addition to the ten pounds: but if I
had let lands to baron and feme for three lives,
reserving ten pounds per annum, and, if the baron
die, reserving three pounds ; this shall be taken
contrary to the former case, to abridge my rent
only to three pounds.
So if I demise omnes boscos meos in i^h. f.«h
villa de Dale for years, this passeth the "'■ "■
soil ; but if I demise all my lands in Dale eaieptt
boscis, this extendeth to the trees only, and not to
the soil.
So if I sow my land with corn, and let it foi
years, the corn passeth to the lessee, if I exceot it
not; but if I make a lease tor life to I. S. upon
condition that upon request he shall make me a
226
MAXIMS OF THK LAW.
lease for years, and I. S. sow the ground, and then I
make request, I. S. may well make me a lease
excepting his corn, and not break the condition.
So if I have free warren in my own
5 32 H. «.'24! land, and let mv land for life, not men-
*JH.8.Dy.30.6. . . , •' , .'
tionin^ the warren, yet the lessee, by
implication, shall have the warren discharged and
extract during his lease : but if I let the land una
curn libera warrcna, excepting white acre, there
the warren is not by implication reserved unto me
either to be enjoyed or extinguished; but the
lessee shall have warren against me in white
acre.
So if I. S. hold of me by fealty and
MASS. pi. 10. , , T ■
rent only, and I grant the rent, not
speaking of the fealty ; yet the fealty by implica-
tion shall pass, because my grant shall be taken
strongly as of a rent service, and not of a rent
secke. •
Otherwise had it been if the seigniory
44 Ed. 3. 19. , , , , , . , f ■'
bad been by homage, fealty, and rent,
because of the dignity of the service, which could
not have passed by intendment by the grant of
the rent : but if I be seised of the
manor of Dale in fee, whereof I. S.
holds by fealty and rent, and I grant the manor,
excepting the rent, the fealty shall pass to the
grantee, and I. S. shall have but a rent secke.
So in grants against the law, if I give land to
I. S. and his heirs males, this is a good fee-simple,
which is a larger estate than the words seem to
intend, and the word " males" is void. But if I
make a gift in tail, reserving rent to me and the
heirs of my body, the words " of my body" are
not void, and to leave it rent in fee-simple; but
the words " heirs and all" are void, and leave it
but a rent for life : except, that you will say, it is
but a limitation to any my heir in fee-simple
which shall be heir of my body ; for it cannot be
rent in tail by reservation.
45 Ed. 3. 290. ^^^ if I S'^^ '^"i*^ ^'th my daughter
'* "■• in frank marriage, the remainder to I.
S. and his heirs, this grant cannot be good in all
parts, according to the words : for it is incident to
the nature of a gift in frank marriage, that the
donee hold of the donor ; and therefore my deed
shall be taken so strongly against myself, that
rather than the remainder shall be void, the frank 1
marriage, though it be first placed in the deed, I
shall be void as a frank marriage.
But it I give land in frank marriage, reserving
to me and my heirs ten pounds rent, now the j
frank mairiage stands good, and the reservation
is void, because it is a limitation of a benefit to
myself, and not to a stranger. !
• Qiiare car le ley s^mhle d^i Ic contrary en tant qiie in iin
grant quant liin part del fait ne poit estoiernue lauter le darr :
»erra void,anterMient in un devise et accordant fiiit lopin : de
Kur Anderson et O-ven Just: contra Walinesley Just. P. 40.
Klit. in le case d'. Conitesse de V^aiwick et Sur Barkley in
ciun banco.
So if I let white acre, black acre, and greew
acre to I. S. excepting white acre, this exception
is void, because it is repugnant; but if 1 let the
three acres aforesaid, rendering twenty shillings
rent, viz. for white acre ten shillings, and for
black acre ten shillings, I shall not distniin at all
in green acre, but that shall be discharged of my
rent.
So if I grant a rent to I. S. and his Jg";^ ^f ^^
heirs out of my manor of Dale, et abh'go *^ '•■ '• '^
manerium prxdictum et omnia bona et catalla mea
super manerium prasdicliim exisientia ad dislrin-
gendum per ballivos domini regis.- this limitation
of the distress to the king's bailitTs is void, and it
is good to give a power of distress to I. S. the
grantee, and his bailiffs.
But if I give land in tail tenendo de 2 Ed. 4.5
capitalibus dominis per redditum viginti solidorum
per Jidclitaiem.- this limitation of tenure to the
lord is void ; and it shall not be good, as in the
other case, to make a reservation of twenty
shillings good unto myself; but it shall be utterly
void, as if no reservation at all had been made:
and if the truth be that 1, that am the donor, hold
of the lord paramount by ten shillings only, then
there shall be ten shillings only reserved upon the
gift in tail as for ovelty.
So if I give land to I. S. and the 21 Ed. 3. 4P. 31
heirs of his body, and for default of Jk^piow^o'sr'
such issue quod tenementum prxdic- '^^ "•''•*»•
turn reverlatur ad I. N. yet these words of
reservation will carry a remainder to a stranger.
But if I let white acre to I. S. excepting ten
shillings rent, these words of exception to mine
own benefit shall never inure to words of reser-
vation.
But now it is to be noted, that this rule is the
last to be resorted to, and is never to be relied
upon but where all other rules of exposition of
words fail ; and if any other rule come in place,
this giveth place. And that is a point worthy to
be observed generally in the rules of the law, that
when they encounter and cross one another in
any case, it be understood which the law holdeth
worthier, and to be preferred ; and it is in this
particular very notable to consider, that this being
a rule of some strictness and rigour, doth not, as
it were, his office, but in absence of other rules
which are of more equity and humanity; which
rules you shall find afterwards set down with
their expositions and limitations.
But now to give a taste of them to this present
purpose : it is a rule, that general words shall
never be stretched too far in intendment, which
the civilians utter thus : Verba generalia restrin-
guntur ad habilitatem personse, vel ad aptitudu
nem ret.
Therefore, if a man grant to another, u a«. pi. 21.
common intra metas et bttndas rillx de Dak, and
part of the ville is his several, and part is his
waste and common ; the grantee shall not have
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
227
common in the several ; and yet that is the I
strongest exposition against the grantor. j
So it is a rule, Vtrba i'a sunt intelli- '
genda, ut res mai^in alcat, qiiam pereat :
and therefore if I give land to I. S. and his heirs,
reddend4) qutnque libras annuatim to I. D. and his
heirs, this implies a condition to me that am the
grantor; yet it were a stronger exposition against
me, to say the limitation should be void, and the
feoiTment absolute.
So it is a rule, that the law will not
intend a wrong, which the civilians
utter thus : Ea est accipienda interpretation quse vitto
caret. And therefore if the executors of I. S.
grant omnia bona et catalla sua, the goods which
they have as executors will not pass, because
non constat wlu'tlier it may not be a devastation,
and so a wrong; and yet against the trespasser
that taketh them out of their hand, they shall de-
clare quod bona sua eepit.
So it is a rule, words are to be understood that
they work somewhat, and be not idle and frivo-
lous : Verba aliquid operari debent, verba cum effec-
iu sunt accipienda. And, therefore, if I buy and
sell you four parts of my manor of Dale, and say
not in how many parts to be divided, this shall
be construed four parts of five, and not of six nor
seven, &c., because that it is the strongest against
me; but on the other side, it shall not be intend-
ed four parts of four parts, that is whole of four
quarters ; and yet that wore strongest of all, but
then the words were idle and of none effect.
So it is a rule, Divinatio non inter-
3 H. 6. 20.
pretatto est, qux ommno reeedit a htera.-
and therefore if I have a fee farm-rent issuing out
of white acre of ten shillings, and I reciting the
same reservation do grant to I. S. the rent of five
shillings percipiend^ de reddif prxdicl'' et de omni-
bus terris et tenementis meis in Dale, with a clause
of distress, although there be atturnement, yet
nothing passeth out of my former rent; and yet
that were strongest against me to have it a double
rent, or grant of part of that rent with an enlarge-
ment of a distress in the other land, but for that
it is against the words, because cnpulatio verborum
inclinat excepfionem in eodem sensu, and the word
de, anglice out of, may be taken in two senses,
that is, either as a greater sum out of a less, or as
a charge out of land, or other principal interest;
and that the coupling of it with lands and tene-
ments, viz., I reciting that I am seized of such a
rent of ten shillings, do grant five shillings perci-
piend'' de endem reddit\ it is good enough without
atturnement; because percipiend' de, etc. may well
be taken for parcella de, etc. without violence to
the words; but if it had been percipiend'' de, I. S.
without saying de redditibus prxdicC, although
I. S. be the person that payeth me the foresaid
rent of ten shillinors, yet it is void ; and so it is of
all other rules of exposition of grants, when they
meet in opposition with this rule, they are preferred.
Now to examine this rule in pleadings as we
have done in grants, you shall find that in all im-
perfections of pleadings, whether it he in ambi.
gnity of words and double intendments, oi want
of certainty and averments, the plea shall be
strictly and strongly against him that pleads.
For ambiguity of words, if in a writ of
",... , , , 22H. 6.43.
entry upon a disseisin, the tenant pleads
jointenancy with I. S. of the gift and feoffment of
I. D. judgment de briefe, the demandant saith that
long time before I. D. any thing had, the dnmandant
himself was seised in fee quousque prwdicf I. D.
super possessionem ejus intravit, and made a joint
feoffment, whereupon he the demandant re-enter-
ed, and so was seised until by the defendant
alone he was disseised ; this is no plea, because
the word intravit may be understood either of a
lawful entry, or of a tortious; and the hardest
against him shall be taken, which is, that it was
a lawful entry ; therefore he should have alleged
precisely that I. D. disseistvit.
So upon ambiguity that grows by 3Ed. e.
reference, if an action of debt be brought ^''- ^
against I. N. and I. P. sheriffs of London, upon
an escape, and the plaintiff doth declare upon an
execution by force of a recovery in the prison of
Ludgale sub eustodia L S. et L D. then sheriffs in
1 K. H. VIIL and that he so continued sub eus-
todia L B. et I. G. in 2 K. H. VIIL and so con-
tinued sub eustodin 1. N. et I. L. in 3 K. H. VIIL
and then was suffered to escape;. I. N. and I. L.
plead that before the escape, supposed at such a
day anno supertus in narratione specijicato, the
said I. D. and I. S. ad tunc vicccomites suffered
him to escape; this is no good plea, because
there be three years specified in the declaration,
and it shall be hardest taken that it was 1 or 3 H.
VIIL when they were out of office; and yet it is
nearly induced by the ad tunc vicccomites, which
should leave the intendment to be of that year in
which the declaration supposeth that they were
sheriffs; but that sufl[iceth not, but the year must
be alleged in fact, for it may be it was mislaid by
the plaintiff, and therefore the defendants mean-
ing to discharge themselves by a former escape,
which was not in their time, must allege it pre-
cisely.
For incertainty of intendment, if a
warranty collateral be pleaded in bar,
and the plaintiff by replication, to avoid warranty,
saith, that he entered upon the possession of tho
defendant, non constat whether this entry was in
the life of the ancestor, or after the warranty at-
tached; and therefore it shall be taken m hardest
sense, that it was after the warranty descended,
if it be not otherwise averred.
For impropriety of words, if a man ssh 6.18.
plead that his ancestors died by pro- ^^h. 6.5.
testation seised, and that I. S. abated, &c., this is
no plea, for there can be no abatement excep*
there be a dying seisetl alleged in fact* and an
228
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
abatement shall not be improperly taken for dis-
oeissin in pleading, car par oh sont pleas.
9 R. Dy. fo. ^ '^'" rt^^pugnancy, if a man in avowry
^^- declare that he was seised in his de-
mesne as of fee of white acre, and being so seised
did demise the same white acre to I. S. habendum
the moiety for twenty-one years from the date of
the deed, the other moiety from the surrender,
expiration, or determination of the estate of I. D.
qui tenet prxdict'' medietatem ad terininum vitae suas
rcddend'' 40s. rent: this declaration is insufficient,
because the seisin that he hath alleged in himself
in his demesne as of fee in the whole, and the
state for life of a moiety, are repugnant; and it
shall not be cured by taking the last, which is
expressed to control the former, which is but
general and formal ; but the plea is naught, and
yet the matter in law had been good to have en-
titled to have distrained for the whole rent.
But the same restraint follows this rule in
pleading that was before noted in grants: for if
the case be such as falleth within another rule of
pleadings, then this rule may not be urged.
And therefore it is a rule that a bar
9. Ed. 4. . , . ^ , ,
4 Ed. 6. IS good to a common intent, though not
to every intent. As if a debt be brought
against five executors, and three of them make
default, and two appear and plead in bar a
recovery had against them two of three hundred
pounds, and nothing in their hands over and
above that sum : if this bar should be taken
strongliest against them, it should be intended
that they might have abated the first suit, because
the other three were not named, and so the re-
covery not duly had against them ; but because
of this other rule the bar is good : for that the
more common intent will say, that they two did
only administer, and so the action well consider-
ed ; rather than to imagine, that they would have
lost the benefit and advantage of abating the writ.
So there is another rule, that in pleading a man
shall not disclose that which is against himself:
and therefore if it be a matter that is to be set
forth on the other side, then the plea shall not be
taken in the hardest sense, but in the most bene-
ficial, and to be left unto the contrary party to
allege.
28 H. 8. And, therefore, if a man be bound in
Dy.fo.i7. gj. obligation, that if the feme of the
cbligee do decease before the feast of St. John
the Baptist, which shall be in the year of our
Lord God 1598, without issue of her body by her
husband lawfully begotten then living, that then
the oond shall be void ; and in debt brought upon
this obligation the defendant pleads that the
feme died before the said feast without issue of
lier body then living: if this plea should be taken
Btrongliest against the defendant, then should it
'>e taken that the feme had issue at the time of
cier death, but this issue died before the feast;
but that shall not be so understood, because it
makes against the defendant, and it is to oe
brought in on the plaintifl's side, and that with-
out traverse.
So if in a detinue brought by a feme
against the executors of her husband ^^^
for her reasonable part of the goods of her hus-
band, and her demand is of a moiety, and she de-
clares upon the custom of the realm, by which the
feme is to have a moiety, if there be no issue
between her and her husband, and the third part
if there be issue had, and declareth that her hus-
band died without issue had between them ; if
this count should be hardliest construed against
the party, it should be intended that her husband
had issue by another wife, though not by her, in
which case the feme is but to have the third part
likewise ; but that shall not be so intended,
because it is a matter of reply to be showed of
the other side.
And so it is of all other rules of pleadings,
these being sufficient not only for the exact ex-
pounding of these other rules, but obiter to show
how this rule which we handle is put by when it
meets with any other rule.
As for acts of Parliament, verdicts, judgments,
&c. which are not words of parties, in them this
rule hath no place at all, neither in devises and
wills, upon several reasons ; but more especially
it is to be noted, that in evidence it hath no place,
which yet seems to have some affinity with
pleadings, especially when demurrer is joined
upon the evidence.
And, therefore, if land be given by
•11 1 TT /-I . !-• T /-I 1 . I3.I4R.P412
will by H. C. to his son L C. and the
heirs males of his body begotten ; the remaindei
to F. C. and the heirs males of his body begotten •
the remainder to the heirs males of the body of
the devisor : the remainder to his daughter 8. C.
and the heirs of her body, with a clause of perpe-
tuity ; and the question comes upon the point of
forfeiture in an assize taken by default, and evi-
dence is given, and demurrer upon evidence, and
in the evidence given to maintain the entry of the
daughter upon a forfeiture, it is not set forth nor
averred that the devisor had no other issue male,
yet the evidence if) good enough, and it shall be
so intended ; and the reason thereof cannot be,
because a jury may take knowledge of matters
not within the evidence ; and the court contrari-
wise canpot take knowledge of any matter not
within the pleas ; for it is clear that if the evidence
had been altogether remote, and not proving the
issue, there although the jury might find it, yet a
demurrer might well be taken upon the evidence.
But if I take the reason of difference to be
between pleadings, which are but openings of the
case, and evidences which aYe the proofs of an
issue; for pleadings being but to open the verity
of the matter in fact indifferently on both parts
have no scope and conclusion to direct the con-
struction and intendment of them, and therefore
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
229
must be certain ; but in evidence and proofs the
issue, which is the stJite of the question and con-
clusion, shall incline and apply all the proofs as
tending to that conclusion.
Another reason is, that pleadintjs must be cer-
tain, because tiie adverse party may know whereto
to answer, or else he were at a mischief, which
mischief is remedied by a demurrer; but in evi-
dence if it be short, impertinent, or uncertain, the
adverse party is at no mischief, because it is to be
thoufrht that the jury will pass against him; yet,
nevertheless, because the jury is not compellable
to supply the defect of evidence out of their own
knowledge, though it be in their liberty so to do;
therefore the law alloweth a demurrer upon evi-
dence also.
REGULA IV.
Quod sub certa forma concessum vel reservatum est
non trahilur ad valorem vel compensalionem.
The law permitteth every man to part with his
own interest, and to qualify his own grant, as it
pleaseth himself; and, therefore, doth not admit
any allowance or recompense, if the thing be not
taken as it is granted.
So in all profits a prendre, if I grant
common for ten beasts, or ten loads of
wood out of my coppice, or ten loads of hay out
of my meads, to be taken for three years ; he shall
not have common for thirty beasts, or thirty loads
of wood or hay, the third year, if he forbear for
the space of two years ; here the time is certain
and precise.
So if the place be limited, or if I grant estovers
to be spent in such a house, or stone towards the
reparation of such a castle ; although the grantee
do burn of his fuel and repair of his own charge,
yet he can demand no allowance for that he took
it not.
So if the kind be specified, as if I let my park
reserving to myself all the deer and sufficient pas-
ture for them, if 1 do decay the game, whereby
there is no deer, I shall not have quantity of pas-
ture answerable to the feed of so many deer as
were upon the ground when I let it ; but am
without any remedy, except I will replenish the
ground again with deer.
But it may be thought that the reason of these
cases is the default and laches of the grantor,
which is not so.
For put the case that the house where the
estovers should be spent be overthrown by the
act of God, as by tempest, or burnt by the enemies
of the king, yet there is no recompense to be
made.
And in the strongest case, where it is in default
of the grantor, yet he shall make void his own
grant rather than the certain form of it should be
wrested to an equity or valuation.
As if I grant common uhwinque avert a
mca ierint, the commoner cannot other-
wise entitle himself, except that he aver that in
such grounds my beasts have gone and fed ; and
if I never put in any, but occupy my grounds
otherwise, he is without remedy ; but if I put in,
and after by poverty or otherwise desist, yet the
commoner may continue; contrariwise, if the
words of the grant had been quandocunquc averia
mea ierint, for there it depends continually upon
the putting in of my beasts, or at least the gene-
ral seasons when I put them in, not upon every
hour or moment.
But if I grant tertiam advocalionem to I. S. if
he neglect to take his turn ea vice, he is without
remedy : but if my wife be before entitled to
dower, and I die, then my heir shall have two
presentments, and my wife the third, and my
grantee shall have the fourth; and it doth not
impugn this rule at all, because the grant shall
receive that construction at the first that it was
intended such an avoidance as may be taken and
enjoyed; as if I grant proximam advo- 29 h 8
cationem to I. D. and then grant />roxi- ^^•^*-
mam advocalionem to I. S. this shall be intended
the next to the next, which I may lawfully grant
or dispose. Quaere.
But if I grant proximam advocalionem to I. S.
and I. N. is incumbent, and I grant by precise
words, illam advocalionem, quam post mortem, re-
si i!;nationem translationem vel deprivationem I. N.
immediate fore contigerit ,• now this grant is mere-
ly void, because I had granted that before, and it
cannot be taken against the words.
REGULA V.
Necessitas inducit privilegium quoad jura privata.
The law chargeth no man with default where
the act is compulsory and not voluntary, and
where there is not a consent and election ; and,
therefore, if either there be an impossibility for a
man to do otherwise, or so great a perturbation of
the judgment and reason as in presumption of law
man's nature cannot overcome, such 4F,d.6. cond.
necessity carrieth a privilege in itself. '■^•
Necessity is of three sorts, necessity of con-
servation of life, necessity of obedience, and ne-
cessity of the act of God, or a stranger.
First, for conservation of life : if a ^'""f-
man steal viands to satisfy his present hunger,
this is no felony nor larceny.
So if divers be in danger of drowning by tho
casting away of some boat or bark, and one of
them get to some plank, or on the boat's side to
keep himself above water, and another to save
j his life thrust him from it, whereby he is drowned ;
\ this is neither se defendendo nor by misadventure,
but justifiable.
1 So if divers felons be in gaol, and con. 13. iw
the gaol by casualty is set on fire, ""„''-■. i
whereby the prisoners get forth ; this f^'iJ't'k
is no escape, nor breaking of prison. p«'S«"
IT
230
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
So upon the statute, that every merchant that
seiteth his merchandise on land without satisfying
the customer or agreeing for it, which agreement is
construed to be in certainty, shall forfeit his mer-
chandise, and it is so that, by tempest, a great
quantity of the merchandise is cast overboard,
* Ed 6 pi. whereby the merchant agrees with the
4''Ed'.'b\"2o. customer by estimation, which falleth
condition. Qyt short of the truth, yet the over
quantity is not forfeited ; where note, that neces-
sity dispenseth with the direct letter of a statute
law.
Lit pi 4 19 ^° ^f ^ "^^^ have right to land, and
I4 H. 4.^36. ^^ "ot make his entry for terror of force,
B. 38H. 6. 11. thg law allows him a continual claim,
which shall be as beneficial to him as an entry ;
so shall a man save his default of appearance by
28H 6 8 cre.stine de eau, and avoid his debt by
39 H. 6. 50. duresse, whereof you shall find proper
cases elsewhere.
The second necessity is of obe-
Ed".' 160. ■ dience ; and, therefore, where baron
and feme commit a felony, the feme
can neither be principal nor accessory; because
the law intends her to have no will, in regard of
the subjection and obedience she owes to her
husband.
So one reason amongst others why ambassa-
dors are used to be excused of practices against
the state where they reside, except it be in point
of conspiracy, which is against the law of nations
and society, is, because non constat whether they
have it in mandatis, and then they are excused by
necessity of obedience.
So if a warrant or precept come from
' the king to fell wood upon the ground
whereof I am tenant for life or for years, I am ex-
cused in waste.
The third necessity is of the act of God, or of a
stranger; as if I be particular tenant for years of
a house, and it be overthrown by grand tempest
or thunder and ligrhtning, or by sudden
B. Wast. 31. - , ■. • ■ c ■ -e
42 Ed. 3. 6. floods, or bv invasion ot enemies, or 11
19. Ed. 3. ^ , , , • , •,
perFitzh. 1 havo belonging unto it some cottage
32 Ed. 3.' which hath been infected, whereby I
Wast. 105. can procure none to inhabit them, no
44Ed. 3. 21. ,^ . , , ,
workmen to repair them, and so they^
fall down; in all these cases I am excused in
waste : but of this last learning, when and how
the act of God and strangers do excuse, there be
other particular rules.
But then it is to be noted, that necessity privi-
legeth only quod jura privata, for, in all cases, if
the act that should deliver a man out of the neces-
sity be against the commonwealth, necessity ex-
I'useth not; {or privikgium non valet contra rem-
publicam: and as another saith, necessitas puhlica
major' est qua m pn vat a : for death is the last and
farthest point of particular necessity, and the law
iin,)oseth it upon everv subject, that he prefer the
U'geni service of his prince and country before
' the safety of his life : as if in danger of tempest
those that are in a ship throw over other men's
goods, they are not answerable ; but if a man be
commanded to bring ordnance or munition to re-
lieve any of the king's towns that are distressed,
then he cannot for any danger of tempest justify
the throwing of them overboard ; for there it
holdeth which was spoken by the Roman, when
he alleged the same necessity of weather to hold
him from embarking, nccesse est ut earn, non ut
vivam. So in the case put before the husband
and wife, if they join in committing treason, the
necessity of obedience doth not excuse the offence
as it doth in felony, because it is against the
commonwealth.
So if a fire be taken in a street, I may ,3 „ ^ ,5
justify the pulling down of the wall P"S''<^'iy-
or house of another man to save the row from the
spreading of the fire ; but if I be assailed in my
house, in a city or town, and distressed, and to
save my life I set fire on mine own
house, which spreadeth and taketh hold per Brooke.
, , ^ 1 . • • ... 22 Asi. pi. 56.
upon other houses adjoining, this is 6e. 4.7.
• /.Ill T 1 • 1 • P**" Sares,
not justinable, but 1 am subject to their
action upon the case, because I cannot rescue
mine own life by doing any thing which is
against the commonwealth : but if it had been
but a private trespass, as the going over another's
ground, or the breaking of his enclosure when I
am pursued, for the safeguard of my life, it is
justifiable.
This rule admitteth an exception when the law
intendeth some fault or wrong in the party that
hath brought himself into the necessity; so that
it is necessitas culpabilis. This I take to be the
chief reason why seipsum defendendo is not matter
of justification, because the law intends it hath a
commencement upon an unlawful cause, because
quarrels are not presumed to grow without some
wrongs either in words or deeds on either part,
and the law that thinketh it a thing 4H.7.2. stam
hardly triable in whose default the f""". 2'- q»- "s-
quarrel began, supposeth the party that kills
another in his own defence not to be without
malice; and therefore as it doth not touch him in
the highest degree, so it putteth him to sue out
his pardon of course, and furnisheth him by for-
feiture of goods : for where there cannot be any
malice or wrong presumed, as where a man assails
me to rob me, and I kill him that assailelh me ;
or if a woman kill him that assaileth her to ravish
her, it is justifiable without any pardon.
So the common case proveth this ex- 21 h. 7. 13.
ception, that is, if a madman commit '"*'"'• '*•
a felony, he shall not lose his life for it, because
his infirmity came by the act of God : but if a
drunken man commit a felony, he shall not bo
excused, because his imperfection came by h\H
own default; for the reason and loss of depriva-
tion of will and election by necessity and by in-
firmity is all one, for the lack of arbitrium solutum
MAXIMS OF THE LAW,
231
18 the matter : and therefore as infirmilas culpa-
bills excuseth not, no more doth necessitaa cul-
pabilis.
REGULA VI.
Corporalis injuria non recipit xstimalionem de
futuro.
The law, in many cases that concern lands or
goods, doth deprive a man of his present remedy,
and turneth him over to a furliier circuit of
remedy, rather than to suffer an inconvenience:
but if it he question of personal pain, the law will
not comi)el him to sustain it and expect remedy,
because it holdeth no damage a sufficient recom-
pense for a wronff which is corporal.
As if tlie sheriff make a false return that I am
summoned, whereby I lose my land ; yetbecause of
the inconvenience of drawing all things
to incertainty and delay, if the sheriff's
return should not be credited, I am excluded of my
averment against it, and am put to mine action of
deceit against the sheriff and summon-
ers ; but if the sheriff upon a capias
return a cepi corpus et quod est languidus in pri-
8ona, there I may come in and falsify the return
of the sheriff to save my imprisonment.
So if a man menace me in ray goods, and
that he will burn certain evidences of my land
which he hath in his hand, if I will not make
unto him a bond, yet if I enter into bond by this
terror, I cannot avoid it by plea, because the law
holdeth it an inconvenience to avoid a specialty
by such matter of averment ; and therefore I am
put to mine action against such a menacer : but
if he restrain my person, or threaten
' ' ' me with a battery, or with the burning
of my house, which is a safety and protection to
my person, or with burning an instrument of
manumission, which is an evidence of my enfran-
chisement; if upon such menace or duresse I
make a deed, I shall avoid it by plea.
13 H. 8. 15. ^o if ^ trespasser drive away my
21 H. 7. 28. beasts over another's ground, I pursue
them to rescue them, yet am I a trespasser to the
stranjer upon whose ground I came : but if a man
assail my person, and I fly over another's ground,
now am I no trespasser.
This ground some of the canonists do aptly
infer out of Christ's sacred mouth, Jmen, est cor-
pus supra veslimcntum, where they say vcstimen-
tum comprehendeth all outward things appertain-
ing to a man's condition, as lands and goods,
which, they say, are not in the same degree with
that which is corporal; and this was the reason
of the ancient lex taliotiis, oculus pro oeulo, dens
pro dente, so that by that law corporalis injuria
de prxterito non recipit xstimaiionem : but our law,
when the injury is already executed and inflicted,
thinketh it best satisfaction to the party grieved
•0 relieve him in damage, and to give him rather
profit than revenge ; but it will never force a man
to tolerate a corporal hurt, and to depend upoi»
that inferior kind of satisfaction, ut in damagiis.
REGULA Vn.
Excusat aut exlenuat delictum in capitalibua, quod
non operalur idem in civilibus.
In capital causes in favorem vitas, the law will
not punish in so high a degree, except the malice
of the will and intention appear ; but in civil
trespasses and injuries that are of an inferior
nature, the law doth rather consider the damage
of the party wronged, than the malice of him that
was the wrong-doer : and therefore,
The law makes a difference between killing a
man upon malice forethought, and upon present
heat: but if I give a man slanderous words,
whereby I damnify him in his name and credit, it
is not material whether I use them upon sudden
choler and provocation, or of set malice, but in an
action upon the case I shall render damages alike.
So if a man be killed by misadventure, as by an
arrow at butts, this hath a pardon of course ; but
if a man be hurt or maimed only, an s,j„,f ,g^ g ^
action of trespass lieth, though it be * '•
done against the party's mind and will, and he
shall be punished in the law as deeply as if he
had done it of malice.
So if a surgeon authorized to prac-
^. J , "^i ,. . , . ' Stamf. 16. B.
tise, do, through negligence in his cure,
cause the party to die, the surgeon shall not be
brought in question of his life ; and yet if he do
only hurt the wound, whereby the cure is cast
back, and death ensues not, he is subject to an
action upon the case for his misfaisance.
So if baron and feme be, and they commit
felony together, the feme is neither principal nor
accessory, in regard of her obedience to the will
of her husband : but if baron and feme join in
committing a trespass upon land or otherwise,
action may be brought against them hi th.
So if an infant within years of dis-
cretion, or a madman, kill another, he stamf. i6.'B.
shall not be impeached thereof : but if
they put out a man's eye, or do him like corporal
hurt, he shall be punished in trespass.
So in felonies the law admitteth the difference
of principal and accessary, and if the principal
die, or be pardoned, the proceeding against the
accessory faileth ; but in a trespass, it ,7h.4. i
i one command his man to beat you, *^'""- ^
I and the servant after the battery die, yet your
action of trespass stands good against the master.
REGULA VIII.
Xstimatio prseteriti delicti ex post facto nunquttm
crescit.
The law construeth neither penal laws uar
penal facts by intendments, but considereth the
232
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
offence in degree, as it standeth at the time when
it is committed ; so as if any circumstance or
matter be subsequent, which laid together with
the beginning should seem to draw it to a higher
nature, yet the law doth not extend or amplify
the offence.
Therefore, if a man be wounded, and
IIH.4. 12. . ' . 1 , •, ' ^
the percussor is voluntarily let go at
large by the gaoler, and after death ensueth of the
hurt, yet this is no felonious escape in the gaoler.
So if the villain strike the heir apparent of the
lord, and the lord dieth before, and the person
hurtwho succeedeth to be lord to the villain dieth
after, yet this is no petty treason.
So if a man compass and imagineth the death
of one that after cometh to be king of the land,
not being any person mentioned within the sta-
tute of 25 Ed. III. this imagination precedent is
not high treason.
So if a man use slanderous words of a person
upon whom some dignity after descends that
maketh him a peer of the realm, yet he shall have
but a simple action of the case, and not in the
nature of a scundalum magnatum upon the statute.
So if John Stile steal sixpence from me in
money, and the king by his proclamation doth
raise moneys, that the weight of silver in the
piece now of sixpence should go for twelve
pence, yet this shall remain petty larceny, and
not felony : and yet in all civil reckonings the
alteration shall take place; as if I contract with a
labourer to do some work for twelve pence, and
the enhancing of money cometh before I pay him,
I shall satisfy my contract with a sixpenny piece
so raised.
So if a man deliver goods to one to keep, and
after retain the same person into his service, who
afterwards groeth awav with his goods,
28 H 8 dI 2
this is no felony by the statute of
21 H. VIII. because he was not servant at that time.
In like manner if I deliver goods to the servant
of I. S. to keep, and after die, and make I. S. my
executor ; and before any new commandment of
1. S. to his servant for the custody of the same
goods, his servant goeth away with them, this is
also out of the same statute. Quod nota.
But note that it is said prxteriti delicti ; for any
accessory before the act is subject to all the con-
tingencies pregnant of the fact, if they be pursu-
i8Eiii.com. ances of the same fact: as if a man
""• command or counsel one to rob a man,
or beat him grievously, and murder ensue, in
either case he is accessory to the murder, quia in
:riminalihus prasstantur accidentia.
REGULA IX.
t^uod remedio destituitur ipsa re valet si culpa dbsit,
TnK benignity of the law is such, as, when to
preserve the principles and grounds of law it de-
pnveth a man of his remedy without his own
fault, it will rather put him in a better degree and
condition than in a worse ; for if it disable him to
pursue his action, or to make his claim, sometimes
it will give him the thing itself by operation of
law without any act of his own, sometimes it
will give him a more beneficial remedy.
And therefore if the heir of the dis-
seisor which is in by descent make a ''''
lease for life, the remainder for life unto the dis-
seisee, and the lessee for life die, now the frank
tenement is cast upon the disseisee by act in law,
and thereby he is disabled to bring his praecipe to
recover his right; whereupon the law judgeth
him in of his ancient right as strongly as if it had
been recovered and executed by action, which
operation of law is by an ancient term and word
of law called a remitter; but if there may be
assigned any default or laches in him, either in
accepting the freehold or in accepting the interest
that draws the freehold, then the law denieth him
any such benefit. •
And therefore if the heir of the dis-
, , - ^, Lit. pi. 6S2.
seisor make a lease for years, the re-
mainder in fee to the disseisee, the disseisee is
not remitted, and yet the remainder is in him
without his own knowledge or assent: but be-
cause the freehold is not cast upon him by act in
law, it is no remitter. Quod nota.
So if the heir of the disseisor infeoff
. . Lit. pi. 685.
the disseisee and a stranger, and make
livery to the stranger, although the stranger die
before any agreement or taking of the profits by
the disseisee, yet he is not remitted ; because
though a moiety be cast upon him by survivor,
yet that is but jms accrescendi, and it is no casting
of the freehold upon him by act in law, but he is
still as an immediate purchaser, and therefore no
remitter.
So if the husband be seised in the right of his
wife, and discontinue and dieth, and the feme
takes another husband, who takes a g^^y^ ;„ j„,
feoffment from the discontinuee to him fe'Vl"eme°*
and his wife, the feme is not remitted ; "^on'^''^-
and the reason is, because she was once sole, and so
a laches in her for not pursuing her right; but if
the feoffment taken back had been to
the first husband and herself, she had
been remitted.
Yet if the husband discontinue the . ,
. 2 M. CoDdic. 3.
lands of the wife, and the discontinuee
make a feoffment to the use of the husband and
wife, she is not remitted ; but that is upon a
special reason, upon the letter of the statute of
27 H. VIII. of uses, that willeth that the cestui/
que use shall have the possession in quality and
degree, as he had the use; but that holdeth place
only upon the first vesting of the use; for when
the use is absolutely executed and 34H. &
vested, then it doth insue merely the ^y-^^^-
nature of possessions; and if the discontinuee
had made a feoffment in fee to the use of I. S. for
Lit. pi.
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
233
life, the rftmainder to the iise of baron and feme, '
and lessee for life die, now tlie feme is remitted, !
causa qua supra. '
Also, if the heir of the disseisor make a lease |
for life, the remainder to the disseisee, who '
chargeth the remainder, and lessee for life dies, ^
the disseisee is not remitted ; and the reason is,
his intermeddling with the wrongful remainder,
whereby he hath affirmed the same to be in him,
and 80 accepted it : but if the heir of the disseisor
had granted a rent charge to the disseisee, and
afterwards made a lease for life, the remainder to
the disseisee, and the lessee for life had died, the
disseisee had been remitted ; because there ap-
peareth no assent or acceptance of any estate in
the freehold, but only of a collateral charge.
So if the feme be disseised, and intermarry
with the disseisor, who makes a lease for life,
6 EJ 3. 4. rendering rent, and dieth, leaving a son
coud.3. 67. jjy i^j^g gafifie feme, and the son accepts
the rent of the lessee for life, and then the feme
2s H. 8. pi. dies, and the lessee for life dies, the son
^°^- is not remitted ; yet the frank tenement
was cast upon him by act in law, but because
he had agreed to be in the tortious reversion by
acceptance of the rent, therefore no remitter.
So if tenant in tail discontinue, and the discon-
tinuee make a lease for life, the remainder to the
issue in tail being within age, and at full age the
lessee for life surrendeieth to the issue in tail,
and tenant in tail die, and lessee for life dies, yet
the issue is not remitted : and yet if the issue
had accepted a feoffment within age, and had con-
tinued the taking of the profits when he came of
full age, and then the tenant in tail had died, not-
withstanding his taking of the profits, he had
been remitted ; for that which guides the remit-
ter, is, if he be once in of the freehold without
any laches : as if the heir of the disseisor enfeoffs
the heir of the disseisee, who dies, and it descends
to a second heir, upon whom the frank tenement
is cast by descent, who enters and takes the pro-
fits, and then the disseisee dies, this is a remitter,
causa qua supra.
Also, if tenant in tail discontinue for
life, and take a surrender of the lessee,
now he is remitted and seised again by force of
the tail, and yet he cometh in by his own act:
but this case differeth from all other cases; because
the discontinuance was but particular at first, and
the new gained reversion is but by intendment
and necessity of law; and, therefore, is but, as it
were, ab inilin, with a limitation to determine
whensoever the particular discontinuance endeth,
and the estate cometh back to the ancient right.
To proceed from cases of remitter, which is a
great branch of this rule, to other cases: if exe-
cutors do redeem goods pledged by their testator
with their own money, the law doth convert so
6H. 8. pi.3. fnuch goods as doth amount to the
value of that they laid forth, to them-
VoL. III.— 30
Lit. pi. 3. 6.
selves in property, and upon a plea of fully adc
ministered it shall be allowed : and tTie reason is,
because it may be matter of necessity for the well
administering of the goods of the testator, and
executing their trust, that they disburse money
of their own: for else perhaps the goods would
be forfeited, and he that had them in pledge
would not accept other goods but money, and so
it is a liberty which the law gives them, and
they cannot have any suit against themselves;
and, therefore, the law gives them leave to retain
so much goods by way of allowance; and if
there be two executors, and one of thein pay the
money, he may likewise retain against his com-
panion, if he have notice thereof.
But if there be an overplus of goods, 3 p,;^ ^^
above the value of that he shall dis- p'*-
burse, then ought he by his claim to determine
what goods he doth elect to have in value; or
else before such election, if his companion do sell
all the goods, he hath no remedy but in spiritual
court: for to say he should be tenant in common
with himself and his companion pro rata of that
he doth lay out, the law doth reject that course
for intricateness.
So if I. S. have a lease for years 29 h. s. pi.
worth twenty pounds by the year, and 22'as1°°'
grant unto I. D. a rent often pounds a ^i^l;^^
year, and after make him my executor; "'"'^a.
now I. D. shall be charged with assets ten pourds
only, and the other ten pounds shall be allowed
and considered to him : and the reason is, because
the not refusing shall be accounted no laches to
him, because an executorship is pium iifficium,
and matter of conscience and trust, and not like a
purchase to a man's own use.
Like law is, where the debtor makes ,2 h. 4. 22.
the debtee his executor, the debt shall 2H.Vf"
be considered in the assets, notwith- ^vH.&si
standing it be a thing in action.
So if I have a rent charge, and grant g ^ 5 cond.
that upon condition, now though the '^■*-
condition be broken, the grantee's estate is not
defeated till I have made my claim ; ^ ^
but if after any such grant my father
purchase the land, and it descend to me; now, if
the condition be broken, the rent ceaseth without
claim : but if I had purchased the land myself
then I had extincted my own condition, because
I had disabled myself to make my claim : and
yet a condition collateral is not sus- 20H.7.ptr
pended by taking back an estate; as if 35H. s. Fin
I make a feoffment in fee, upon condi- i'"""'®^-
tion that I. S. shall marry my daughter, and take
a lease for life from my feoffee, if the feoffee
break the condition I may claim to hold in by my
fee-simple ; but the case of the charge is othei-
j wise, for if I have a rent charge issuing out ot
twenty acres, and grant the rent over upon con-
dition, and purchase but one acre, the whole con-
\ dition is extinct, and the possibility of the rent
u2
234
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
\<v reason of the condition, is as fully destroyed
as if there had been no rent in esse.
30 H. 6. Fitz. ^° if ^^^ king grant to me the ward-
Grauusi gliip of I. S. the son and heir of I. S.
when it falleth; because an action of covenant
lieth not against the king, I shall have the thing
myself in interest.
But if I let land to I. S. rendering a rent with
condition of re-entry, and I. S. be attainted, where-
by the lease comes to the king, now the demand
upon this land is gone, which should give me
benefit of re-entry, and yet I shall not have it re-
duced without demand : and the reason
of difference is because my condition
in this case is not taken away in right, but only
suspended by the privilege of the possession : for
if the king grant the lease over, the condition is
revived as it was.
Also, if my tenant for life grant his estate to
the king, now if I will grant my reversion over,
the king is not compellable to atturn, therefore,
it shall pass by grant, by deed without atturn-
ment.
So if my tenant for life be, and I
9Ed.2. Filz. -' . , • J
Atiurnmuiis, grant my reversion pur autre vie, and
the grantee die, living cestui que vie,
now the privity between tenant for life and me is
not restored, and I have no tenant in esse to at-
turn ; therefore I may pass my reversion without
alturnment. Quod nota.
So if I have a nomination to a church, and
another hath the presentation, and the presenta-
tion comes to the king, now because the king
cannot be attendant, my nomination is turned to
Hn absolute patronage.
6 Ed. 6. ''^o if ^ ™^" ^^ seised of an advow-
Dy. 72.» gpjj^ ^jjj ^jjj-g ^ wife, and after title of
dower given, he join in impropriating the church,
and dieth ; now because the feme cannot have the
turn, because of the perpetual incumbency, she
shall have all the turns during her life; for it
shall not be disimpropriated to the benefit of the
heir contrary to the grant of tenant in fee-simple.
But if a man grant the third presentment to I,
S. and his heirs, and impropriate the advowson,
now the grantee is without remedy, for he took
his grant subject to that mischief at the first : and
therefore, it was his laches, and therefore not like
the case of the dower; and this grant of the third
avoidance is not like iertia pars advocationis, or
medietas advocationis upon a tenancy in common
of the advowson; for if two tenants in common
be, and a usurpation be had against them, and
the usurper do impropriate, arm one of the tenants
in 'Common do release, and the other bring his writ
(if right de medietate advocationis, and recover;
kiow I take the law to be, that because tenants in
ijoinmon ought to join in presentments, which
•Vide contra, 2 E S. fol. 8. Que prcsentmet del feme I'ad-
/owson est deveign disinipropriate a touts jours quel est
«f ree in sur Cok. Rep. 7. fo. 8. a.
in Com. Banco,
and Pa. I. Jac.
ib. vide 7. R. 2.
Scire fac. 3.
cannot now be, he shall have the whole patron-
age : for neither can there be an apportionment
that he should present all the turns, and his in-
cumbent but to have a moiety of the profits, nor
yet the act of impropriation shall not be defeated.
But as if two tenants in common be of
a ward, and they join in a writ of right
of ward, and one release, the other shall recover
the entire ward, because it cannot be divided : so
shall it be in the other case, though it be of in-
heritance, and though he bring his action alone.
As if a disseisor be disseised, and the first dis-
seisee release to the second disseisor upon condi-
tion, and a descent be cast, and the condition bro-
ken; now the mean disseisor, whose right is
revived, shall enter notwithstanding this descent,
because his right was taken away by the act of a
stranger.
But if T devise land by the statute 4, Ed. 3.1a
of 32 H. VIII. and the heir of the de- \^^°l^^
visor enters and makes a feoffment in Tro?,^"",^,
fee, and feoffee dieth seised, this de- p'^s^emz.'
scent bindeth, and there shall not be a perpetual
liberty of entry, upon the reason that he never
had seisin whereupon he might ground his action,
but he is at a mischief by his "own laches : and
the like law of the king's patentee ; for
I see no reasonable difference between
them and him in the remainder, which
is Littleton's case.
But note, that the law by operation 41E. 3. u.per
and matter in fact will never counter- F""^'"'™-
vail and supply a title grounded upon a matter of
record ; and therefore if I be entitled unto a writ
of error, and the land descend unto me, I shall
never be remitted, no more shall I be unto an
attaint, except I may also have a writ of right.
So if upon my avowry for services, .2ih. s.
my tenant disclaim where I may have ^"f- '• '•
a writ of right as upon disclaimer, if the land
after descend to me, I shall never be remitted.
REGULA X.
Verba generalia restringuntur ad habilitatem rei
vel personas.
It is a rule that the king's grants shall not be
taken or construed to a special intent ; it is not
so with the grants of a common person, for they
shall be extended as well to a foreign intent as to
a common intent; yet, with this exception, that
they shall never be taken to an impertinent or a
repugnant intent: for all words, whether they be
in deeds or statutes, or otherwise, if they be
general and not express and precise, shall be re-
strained unto the fitness of the matter or person.
As if I grant common in omnibus
ierris meis in D. and 1 have in L>. both
open grounds and several, it shall not be stretched
to my common in several, much less in my gar-
dens and orchards.
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
235
So if I grant to a man omnes arhores
meas crescent es supra terras mcas in D.
he shall not have apple trees, nor other fruit trees
g'rowing in my gardens or orchards, if there be
any other trees upon my grounds.
41 Ed. 3. 6. S*^ if I grant to I. S. an annuity of
" '"■ ten pounds a year pro consilio impenso
d impendendo, if I S. be a physician, it shall be
understood of his counsel in physic; and if he be
a lawyer, of his counsel in law.
So if I do let a tenement to I. S. near by my
dwelling-house in a borough, provided that he
shall not erect or use any shop in the same with-
out my license, and afterwards I license him to
erect a shop, and I. S. is then a miller, he shall
not, by virtue of these general words, erect a
joiner's shop.
So the statute of chantries, that
willeth all lands to be forfeited, given
or employed to a superstitious use, shall not be
16 Eiiz. construed of the glebe lands of parson-
337. Dyer, gges : nay farther, if the lands bc givcu
to the parson of D, to say a mass in his church
of D. this is out of the statute, because it shall be
intended but as augmentation of his glebe; but
otherwise it had been, if it had been to say a mass
in any other church than his own.
So in the statute of wrecks, that willeth that
goods wrecked where 'any live domestical crea-
ture remains in the vessel, shall be preserved and
kept to the use of the owner that shall make his
claim by the space of one year, doth not extend
to fresh victuals or the like, which is impossible
to keep without perishing or destroying it; for in
these and the like cases general words "may be
taken, as was said, to a rare foreign intent, but
never to an unreasonable intent.
REGULA XL
Jura sanguinis nullo jure civili dirimi pnssunt.
They be the very words of the civil law,
which cannot be amended, to explain this rule,
hseres est nnmtn juris, Filius est nnmen naturse :
therefore corruption of blood taketh away the
privity of the one, that is, of the heir, but not of
36 H. 6. 57,58. other, that is, of the son ; therefore if a
21 Ed. 3. 17. man be attainted and be murdered by
a stranger, the eldest son shall not have appeal,
because the appeal is given to the heir, for the
youngest sons who are equal in blood shall not
have it; but if an attainted person be killed
by his son, this is petty treason, for that the pri-
vity of a son remaineth : for I admit the law to
be, that if the son kill his father or
Lamb. Jus.
p. 293. Fill. mf>ther it is petty treason, and that
there remaineth so much in our laws
of the ancient footsteps of pofestas patriae and
natural obedience, which by the law of God is the
very instance itself; and all other government
and obedience is taken but bj equity, which I
add, because some have sought to weaken the
law in that point.
So if land descend to the eldest son of a person
attainted from his ancestor of the mother held in
knight's service, the guardian shall j, j, g^ f^
enter, and oust the father, because the ^*^- 0*0™*.
law giveth the father that prerogative in respect
he is his son and heir ; for of a daughter or a spe-
cial heir in tail he shall not have it : but if the
son be attainted, and the father covenant in con-
sideration of natural love to stand seised of land
to his use, this is good enough to raise a use,
because the privily of a natural affection remaineth.
So if a man be attainted and have
charter of pardon, and be returned of a ■ ■ ^•
jury between his son and L S. the challenge
remaineth; so may he maintain any suit of his
son, notwithstanding the blood be corrupted.
So by the statute of 21 H. VIll. the ordinary
ought to commit the administration of his goods
that was attainted and purchase his charter of
pardon, to his children, though born before the
pardon, for it is no question of inheritance : for
if one brother of the half blood die, the 5 j.^. 6 Adm.
administration ought to be committed ■'^•
to his other brother of the half blood, if there be
no nearer by the father.
So if the uncle by the mother be at-
tainted, and pardoned, and land descend
from the father to the son within age held in socage,
the uncle shall be guardian in socage ; for that
savoureth so little of the privity of heir, as the
possibility to inherit shutteth not.
Butif a feme tenant in tail assent to the ravisher,
and have no issue, and her cousin is attainted,
and pardoned, and purchaseth the reversion, he
shall not enter for a forfeiture. For
, 1 , , ... . . 5Ed. 4. 50.
though the law giveth it not in point
of inheritance, but only as a perquisite to any of
the blood, so he be next in estate ; yet the recom-
pense is understood for the stain of his blood,
which cannot be considered when it is once
wholly corrupted before.
So if a villain be attainted, yet the lord shall
have the issues of his villain born before or after
the attainder; for the lord hath them jure naturse
but as the increase of a flock.
Query, Whether if the eldest son be p. N.Br.82.G.
attainted and pardoned, the lord shall Res's'". fo'-sr.
have aid of his tenants to make him a knight,
and it seemeth he shall ; for the words of the
writ hath filiitm primogenitum, and not Jilium et
haeredem, and the like writ hath pur file marriei
who is no heir.
REGULA XIL
Recedilur a placitis juris, potius qudm injuria: ei
delicta maneant impunita.
The law hath many grounds and positive
learnings, which are not of the maxims and con-
236
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
elusions of reason ; but yet are learnings received !
with the law, set down, and will not have called ,
in question ; these may be rather called placila \
juris than regulis juris ,- with such maxims the j
law will dispense, rather than crimes and wrongs |
should be unpunished, quia salus pupuli suprenia
lex ; and salus populi is contained in the repress-
ing offences by punishment.
Therefore if an advowson be granted
^'^ ' ' to two, and the heirs of one of them,
and a usurpation be had, they both shall join in a
writ of right of advowson ; and yet it is a ground
in law, that a writ of right lieth of no less estate
than of a fee-simple : hut because the tenant for
life hath no other several action in the law given
him, and also that the jointure is not broken, and
so the tenant in fee-simple cannot bring his writ
of right alone; therefore rather than he shall be
deprived wholly of remedy, and this wrong un-
punished, he shall join his companion with him,
notwithstanding the feebleness of his estate.
But if lands be given to two, and to
the heirs of one of them, and they lease
in a precipe by default, now they shall not join
in a writ of right, because the tenant for life hath
a several action, namely, a Quod ei defurciat, in
which respect the jointure is broken.
So if tenant for life and his lessor
join in a lease for years, and the lessee
commit waste, they shall join in punishing this
waste, and locus vastatus shall go to the tenant for
lite, and the damages to him in reversion ; and
yet an action of waste lieth not for tenant for life ;
but because he in the reversion cannot have it
alone, because of the mean estate for life, there-
fore rather than the waste shall be unpunished,
they shall join.
45E<i 3 3 ^° ^^ ^^^° coparceners be, and they
2i H. a 24. jgase the land, and one of them die, and
hath issue, and the lessee commit waste, the aunt
and the issue shall join in punishing tliis waste,
and the issue shall recover the moiety of the place
wasted, and the aunt the other moiety and the
entire damages ; and yet actio injuriarum moritur
cum persona, but in favor abilibus magis attenditur
quod prodest, qudni quod nocet.
So if a man recovers by erroneous
20 Ed. 2. . , 1 , , • \ 1 1
Fiiz.F. de- judgment, and hath issue two daugh-
'**°' ' ters, and one of them is attainted, the
writ of error shall be brought against the par-
ceners notwithstanding the privity fail in the
one.
Als'j it is a positive ground, that the
accessory in felony cannot be proceeded
against, until the principal be trie.! , yet if a man
upon suotlety and malice set a madman by some
device to kill him, and he doth so ; now forasmuch
as the madman is excused because he can have
no will nor malice, the law accounteth the inciter
bs prncipal, though he be absent, rather than the
•jrime shall go unpunished.
So it is a ground of the law, that the Fiir.coro«
appeal of murder goeth not to the heir z^'a "^stam?*'
where the party murdered hath a wife, ''b- 2. foi- so.
nor to the younger brother where there is an
elder; yet if the wife murder her husband, be-
cause she is the party offendor, the appeal leaps
over to the heir ; and so if the son and heir mur-
der his father, it goeth to the second brother.
But if the rule be one of the higher sort of
maxims that are regulw rationales, and not posi-
tivae, then the law will rather endure a particular
offence to escape without punishment, than vio-
late such a rule.
As it is a rule that penal statutes (^ ,2 sumf.
shall not be taken by equity, and the ^- '"'• '^^
statute of 1 Ed. VI. enacts that those that are
attainted for stealing of horses shall not have
their clergy, the judges conceived, that this did
not extend to him that stole but one horse, and
therefore procured a new act for it, 2 Ed. VI.
cap. 33. And they had reason for it,
as 1 take the law ; tor it is not like the i.iu. wp. 46.
case upon tiie statute of Glocest. that
gives an action of waste agaiast him that holds
pro termino vitie vcl annorum. It is true, if a man
hold but for a year he is within the statute ; for it
is to be noted, that penal statutes are taken strictly
and literally only in the point of defining and
setting down the fact and \he punishment, and in
those clauses that do concern them ; and not
generally in words that are but circumstances and
conveyance in the putting of the case : and so see
the diversity ; for if the law be, that for such an
offence a man shall lose his right hand, and the
offender hath had his right hand before cut off in
the wars, he shall not lose his left hand, but the
crime shall rather pass without the punishment
which the law assigned, than the letter of the law
shall be extended ; but if the statute of 1 Ed. VI.
had been, that he that should steal a horse should
be ousted of his clergy, then there had been no
question at all, but if a man had stolen more
horses than one, but that he had been within the
statute, quia omne majus continet in se minus.
REGULA XIII.
Non accipi dcbeni verba in demonstrationem falsam
quas compclunt in limitaiionem veram.
Though falsity of addition or demonstration
doth not hurt where you give the thing the proper
name, yet nevertheless if it stand doubtful upon
the words, whether they import a false reference
and demonstration, or whether they be words of
restraint that limit the generality of the former
name, the law will never intend error or falsehood.
And, therefore, if the parish of Hurst ,2Eii7.2i
do extend into the counties of Wilt- 2?Eii?'
shire and Berkshire, and I grant my "ti"!.'
close called Callis, situate and lying '*''•**•
in the parish of Hurst in the county of Wiltshire
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
237
I Beg.
and the truth is, that the whole close lieth in the
county of Berkshire; yet the law is, that it
passeth well enough, because there is a certainty
eutficient in that I have given it a proper name
which the false reference cloth not destroy, and
not upon the reason that these words, "in the
county of Wiltshire," shall be taken to go to the
parish only, and so to be true in some sort, and
not to the close, and so to be false : for if I had
granted omnes terras meas in parochia de Hurst in
com. Wiltshire, and I had no lands in Wiltshire
but in Berkshire, nothing had past.
But in the principal case, if the close
ziE.!. 3.18. called Callis had extended part into
Wiltshire and part in Berkshire, then
only that part had passed which lay in Wiltshire.
So if I grant omnes et singulas terras
meas in tenura I. D. quas perqutsivi de
I. N. in indentura dimissionisfacf I. B. specificaf.
If I have land wherein some of these references
are true, and the rest false, and no land wherein
they are all true, nothing passeth : as if I have
land in the tenure of I. D. and purchased of I. N.
but not specified in the indenture to I. B. or if I
have land which I have purchased of I. N. and
specified in the indenture of demise to I. B. and
not in the tenure of I. D.
But if I have some land wherein all these de-
monstrations are true, and some wherein part of
them are true and part false, then shall they be
intended words of true limitation to pass only
those lands wherein all those circumstances are
true.
REGULA XIV.
Licet disposilin de interesse future sit inuttlis, tamen
potest fieri declaratio praecedens auae sortiatur ef-
fedum intervenienle novo actu.
The law doth not allow of grants except there
oe a foundation of an interest in the grantor; for
the law that will not accept of grants of titles, or
of things in action which are imperfect interests,
much less will it allow a man to grant or encum-
ber that which is no interest at all, but merely
future.
But of declarations precedent before any inte-
rest vested the law doth allow, but with this dif-
ference, so that there be some new act or convey-
ance to give life and vigour to the declaration
precedent.
Now the best rule of distinction between grants
and declarations is, that grants are never counter-
mandable, not in respect of the nature of the con-
veyance or instrument, though sometime in re-
spect of the interest granted thej^ are, whereas
declarations evermore are countermandable in
their natures.
And therefore if I grant unto yon, jotmz.
that if you enter into an obligation to ish-b-sz.
me of one hundred pounds, and after do procure
me such a lease, that then the same obligation
shall be void, and you enter into such an obliga-
tion unto me, and afterwards do procure such a
lease, yet the obligation is simple, because the
defeisance was made of that which was not
So if I grant unto you a rent charge
out of white acre, and that it shall be
lawful for you to distrain in all my other lands
whereof I am now seised, and which I shall here-
after purchase; although this be but a liberty of
distress, and no rent, save only out of white acre,
yet as to the lands afterwards to be purchased the
clause is void.
So if a reversion be granted to I. S. 99 ^h. .3.6
and 1. D. a stranger by his deed do ^•''^''^
grant to I. S. that if he purchase the particular
estate, he will atturne to the grant, this is a void
atturnment, notwithstanding he doth afterwards
purchase the particular estate.
But of declarations the law is con-
.^ . ,. . , , 13. 14Eliz.
trary; as 11 the disseisee make a char- 20, 2iEiii.
ter of feoffment to I. S. and a letter of
attorney to enter and make livery and seisin, and
deliver the deed of feoffment, and afterwards
livery and seisin is made accordingly, this is a
good feoffment; and yet he had no other thing
than a right at the time of the delivery of the
charter; but because a deed of feoffment is but
matter of declaration and evidence, and ^ 3^ ^^
there is a new act which is the livery ^"'^''^
subsequent, therefore it is good in law.
So if a man make a feofiment to I. S. upon con-
dition to enfeoff I. N. within certain
davs, and there are deeds made both of
the first feoffment and the second, and letters oi
attorney accordingly, and both those deeds of
feoffment and letters of attorney are delivered at
a time, so that the second deed of feoffment and
letters of attorney are delivered when the first
feoffee had nothing in the land ; and yet if both
liveries be made accordingly, all is good.
So if I covenant with I, S. by indenture, that
before such a day I will purchase the manor of
D. and before the same day I will levy a fine of
the same land, and that the same fine shall be to
certain uses which I express in the same inden-
ture ; this indenture to lead uses being but matter
of declaration, and countermandable at n-v plea-
sure, will suffice, though the land be purchased
after; because there is a new act to be done, viz.
the fine.
But if there were no new act, then j^p,;,
otherwise it is ; as if I covenant with 27E!i7.
my son in consideration of natural love, to stmd
seised unto his use of the lands which I shall
afterwards purchase, yet the use is void : and the
reason is, because there is no new act, nor trans-
mutation o' possession following to pe»-^" '.\iR
inception ; for the use musx be imilcu by the
feoffor, and not the feoffee, and he had nothing -A
the time of the covenant.
238
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
Com piowd. ^0 if I devise the manor of D. by
Rigden'scase. gpecia] name, of which at that time I
am not seised, and after I purchase it, except I
make some new publication of my will, this
devise is void ; and the reason is, because that my
death, which is the consummation of my will, is
the act of God, and not my act, and therefore no
such act as the law requireth.
But if I grant unto I. S. authority by my deed to
demise for years the land whereof 1 am now
seised, or hereafter shall be seised ; and after I
purchase the lands, and I. S. my attorney doth
demise them : this is a good demise, because the
demise of my attorney is a new act, and all one
with a demise by myself.
But if I mortgage land, and after oove-
nant with I. S. in consideration of mo-
ney which I receive of him, that after I have
entered for the condition broken, I will stand
seised to the use of the same I. S. and I enter, and
this deed is enrolled, and all within the six
months, yet nothing passeth away, because this
enrolment is no new act, but a perfective cere-
mony of the first deed of bargain and sale; and
the law is more strong in that case, because of the
vehement relation which the enrolment hath to
the time of the bargain and sale, at what time he
had nothing but a naked condition.
So if two joint tenants be, and one
'of them bargain and sell the whole
land, and before the enrolment his companion
dieth, nothing passeth of the moiety accrued unto
him by survivor.
REGULA XV.
In criminalibus sufficit generalis malitia intentionis
cum facto pans gradus.
All crimes have their conception in a corrupt
intent, and have their consummation and issuing
in some particular fact; which though it be 'not
the fact at which the intention of the malefactor
levelled, yet the law giveth him no advantage of
that erroi;, if another particular ensue of as high a
nature.
Therefore if an impoisoned apple be
sinder's case, laid in a placc to poison I. S. and I. D.
Cometh by chance and eateth it, this is
murder in the principal that is actor, and yet the
malice in individw^ was not against I. D.
So if a thief find the door open, and
Cr. J. Peace, 30. . , . , ■,-,,-,
come in by night and rob a house, and
l)e taken with the manner, and break a door to
escap.5, this is burglary ; yet the breaking of the
door was without any felonious intent, but it is
one entire act.
So if a caliver be discharged with a murderous
intent at I. S. and the piece break and strike into
^ the eye of him that dischargeth it, and
killeth him, he is/e/o de se, and yet his
intention was not to hurt himself; for felonia de
10 H 7. 19
15, 16.
16 El. Dy. 337.
se, and murder are crimina pans gradus. For if
a man persuade another to kill himself, and ho
present when he doth so, he is a murderer.
But quaere, if I. S. lay impoisoned
fruit for some other stranger his enemy, p^ce" m
and his father or mother come and eat ' ' ' '
it, whether this be petty treason, because it is not
altogether crimen parts gradus.
REGULA XVL
Mandata licit a recipiunt sirictam interpretationemi
sed illicita iatam et extensam.
In committing of lawful authority to another, a
man may limit it as strictly as it pleaseth him,
and if the parly authorized do transgress his
authority, though it be but in circumstance ex-
pressed, it shall be void in the whole act.
But when a man is author and monitor to
another to commit an unlawful act, then he shall
not excuse himself by circumstances not pursued.
Therefore if I make a letter of attorney
to I. S. to deliver livery and seisin in is, i6. '
the capital messuage, and he doth it
in another place of the land ; or between the
hours of two and three, and he doth it after or
before; or if I make a charter of feoffment to I. D.
and I. B. and express the seisin to be icei.dt. 337.
delivered to I. D. and my attorney de- Jg ^' l^^^
liver it to I. B. in all these cases the ^^•
act of the attorney, as to execute the estate, is
void ; but if I say generally to I, D. whom I mean
only to enfeoff, and my attorney make it to his
attorney, it shall be intended, for it is a livery to
him in law.
But on the other side, if a man com- jj, j., sander-s
mand I. S. to rob I. D. on Shooters. «■«.'«"» ''*•
hill, and he doth it on Gad's-hill ; or to rob him
such a day, and he doth it not himself but pro-
cureth I. B. to do it; or to kill him by poison,
and he doth it by violence; in all these cases,
notwithstanding the fact be not executed, yet he
is accessory nevertheless.
But if it be to kill I. S. and he killeth K^itm.
I. D. mistaking him for I. S. then the
acts are distant in substance, and he is not acces-
sory.
And be it that the facts be of differing degrees,
and yet of a kind.
As if a man bid I. S, to pilfer away such things
out of a house, and precisely restrain him to do it
sometimes when he is gotten in without breaking
of the house, and yet he breaketh the house ; yet
he is accessory to the burglary; for a man cannot
condition with an unlawful act, but he must at
his peril take heed how he putteth himself into
another man's hands.
But if a man bid one rob I. S. as he isEiii. insan-
goeth to Sturbridge-fair, and he rob ^m^47^'f'"
him in his house, the variance seema
to be of substance, and he is not accessory.
MAXIMS OF TIIK LAW.
2': 9
REGULA XVII. I
De fide el officio judicia non recipifur quassliof sed
de scientia, sive error sit juris sivefadi.
The law cloth so much respect the certainty of
jndo-inent, and the credit and authority of jud^res,
as it will not permit any error to be assigned that
impeacheth them in their trust and office, and in
wilful abuse of the same; but only in ignorance,
and mistaking either of the law or of the case and
matter in fact.
„ „ _ , „, And therefore if I will assign for
r. IN. br. 10. SI. "^
7 H. 7. 4. error, that whereas the verdict passed
for me, the court received it contrary, and so gave
judnrment against me, this shall not be accepted.
So if I will allege for error, that
3H.6.AM.3. ^^j^g^g^g j_ s^ offered to plead a sutfi-
cient bar, the court refused it, and drave me from
it, this error shall not be allowed.
But the greatest doubt is where the
2M. Dy. 114. pQ^jj,(. ^g^j^ determine of the verity of
the matter in fact; so that is rather a point of
trial than a point of judgment, whether it shall be
re-examined in error.
As if an appeal of maim be brought,
waAV-is-. and the court, by the assistance of the
""' chirurgeons, adjudge it to be a maim,
whether the party grieved may bring a writ of
error; and I hold the law to be he cannot.
So if one of the prothonotaries of the
Common Pleas bring an assize of his
office, and allege fees belonging to the same office
1 Mar nv. s9. '" Certainty, and issue is taken upon
3 Mir. oy. 163. thesB fccs, this Issuc shall be tried by
the judges by way of examination, and if they
determine it for the plaintiff, and he have judg-
ment to recover arrearages accordingly, the de-
fendant can bring no writ of error of this judgment,
though the fees in truth be other.
So if a woman bring a writ of dower,
2 Ki. 2s-.."Dy. and the tenant plead her husband was
41 .*M. 5.' alive, this shall be tried by proofs and
not by jury, and upon judgment given
on either side no error lies.
So if nullielrecordhe pleaded, which
is to be tried by the inspection of the
record, and judgment be thereupon
^iven, no error lieth.
So if in the assize the tenant saith,
Counte de dale, et nient nosme
counte, in the writ, this shall be tried by the
records of the Chancery,andupon judgment given
no error lieth.
So if a felon demand his clergy, and read well
and distinctly, and the court who is judge thereof
do put him from his clergy wrongfully, error shall
never be brought upon this attainder.
j^ g So if upon judgment given uponcon-
F. N.Br. 21. fession for default, and the court do
assess damages, the defendant shall never bring
a writ, though the damage be outrageous.
5 F..1. 4. 3.
9 H 7. 2.
19 H. 6. 52.
22 An. pi. 24.
19 Ed. 4. 6. Jjg
And it aeemeth in the case of maim, and soni«
other cases, that the court may dismiss them-
selves of discussing the matter by examination,
and put it to a jury, and then the party grieved
shall have his attaint ; and therefore it seemcth
♦:liat the court that doth deprive a man of his
action, should be subject to an action ; but that
notwithstanding the law will not have, as was
said in the beginning, the judges called in ques-
tion in the point of tlieir office when they under-
take to discuss the issue, and that is the true
reason : for to say that the reason of these cases
should be, because trial by the court
, , , .•' , , .21 As,. 24.
should be peremptory as trial by certi- n h. 4.4i.
iicate, (as by the bishop in case or
bastardy, or by the marshal of the king, &c.) the
cases are nothing alike ; for the reason of those
cases of certificate is, because if the court should
not give credit to the certificate, but should re-ex-
amine it, they have no other mean but to write
again to the same lord bishop, or the same lord
marshal, which were frivolous, because it is not
to be presumed they would differ from their
former certificate; whereas in these other cases
of error the matter is drawn before a superior
court, to re-examine the errors of an inferior court:
and therefore the true reason, as was said, that to
examine awain that which the court had tried
were in substance to attaint the court.
And therefore this is a certain rule in error, that
error in law is ever of such matters as were not
crossed by the record ; as to allege the death of
the tenant at the time of the judgment given,
nothing appeareth upon record to the contrary.
So when the infant levies a fine, it
appeareth not upon the record that he
is an infant, therefore it is an error in fact, and
shall be tried by inspection during nonage.
But if a writ of error be brought in the King's
Bench of a fine levied by an infant, and the court'
by inspection and examination doth affirm the
fine, the infant, though it be during his infancy,
shall never bring a writ of error in the Parliament
upon this iudsfinent ; not but that error -
2 R. 3. 20
lies after error, but because it doth now
appear upon the record that he is now of full age,
therefore it can be no error in fact. And
c -c -11 • r F.N.Br. 21.
therefore if a man will assign for error
that fact, that whereas the judges gave ® ^^- *■ '•
judgment for him, the clerks entered it in the roll
against him, this error shall not be allowed ; and
yet it doth not touch the judges but the clerks : but
the reason is, if it be an error, it is an error in fact ;
and you shall never allege an error in fact con
trary to the record.
REGULA XVIIL
Persona conjuncta sequiparatur inferesse proprtc
The law hath that respect of nature and con
junction of blood, as in divers cases it com^1areth
240
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
and inatcheth nearness of blood with considera-
tion of profit and interest ; yea, and in some cases
allowetii of it more strongly.
Therefore if a man covenant, in con-
sideration of blood, to stand seised to
the use of his brother, or son, or near kinsman, a
use is well raised of this covenant without trans-
mutation of possession ; nevertheless it is true,
that consideration of blood is not to ground a per-
sonal contract upon ; as if I contract with my son,
that in consideration of blood 1 will give unto him
such a sum of money, this is a nudum pactum, and
no assumpsit lieth upon it; for to subject me to
an action, there needeth a consideration of benefit :
but the use the law raiseth without suit or action ;
and besides, the law doth match real considera-
tions with real agreements and covenants.
Soif asuitbe commenced againstme,
19 Ed. 4.22. mv son, or brother, 1 may maintain as
22 H. 6. 35. -^ .. . . • 1 r 1 • • . *
21 H.6. 15, 16. well as he in remainder tor his interest,
2oh'6; ■ or his lawyer for his fee; and if my
brother have a suit against my nephew
or cousin, yet it is my election to maintain the
cause of my nephew or cousin, though the adverse
party be nearer unto me in blood.
14 H 7. 2. So '" challenges of juries, challenge
t\ Ed. 4. 75.
of blood is as good as challenge within
Com. 4. 25. distress, and it is not material how far
off the kindred be, so the pedigree can be con-
veyed in a certainty, whether it be of the half
blood or whole.
So if a man menace me, that he will
39h'. 6. 50. imprison or hurt in body my father, or
it: Ed. 4. 13. , -1 1 .. T 1 U Ul-
I8H. 6. ii. my child, except J make such an obli-
15 Ed. 4.1. gation, I shall avoid this duresse, as
well as if the duresse had been to mine own per-
son : and yet if a man menace me, by taking
away or destruction of my goods, this is no good
duresse to plead : and the reason is,
izi.A.2\. because the law can make me repara-
0A». u. ^.^^ ^^ ^j^^^ j^^^^ ^^^ g^ j^ cannot of
the other.
Perk. 4. So if a man under the years of
D. cap.zs. twenty-one contract for the nursing of
his lawful child, this contract is good, and shall
not be avoided by infancy, no more than if he had
contracted for his own aliments or erudition.
REGULA XIX.
Non impcdit clausula derogatoria, quo minus ah
eadem polestate res dtssolvantur, a quibus consti-
tuuniur.
Acts which are in their natures revocable, can-
not by strength of words be fixed or perpetuated ;
yet men have put in use two means to bind them-
selves from changing or dissolving that which
Jhey have set down, whereof one is clausula dt-
r'lgafnria, the other {nierp(xitio juramenti, where-
ui the former is only pertinent to this present
purpose
This clausula derogatoria is by the common
practical term called clausula non obstante, ie fu-
turo esse, the one weakening and disannulling any
matter past to the contrary, the other any matter
to come; and this latter is that only whereof we
speak.
The clausula de non obstante de futuro, the law
judgeth to be idle and of no force, because it doth
deprive men of that which of all other things is
most incident to human condition, and that is
alteration or repentance.
Therefore if I make my will, and in the end
thereof do add such like clause [Also my will is,
if I shall revoke this present will, or declare any
new will, except the same shall be in writing,
subscribed with the hands of two witnesses, that
such revocation or new declaration shall be utter-
ly void ; and by these presents I do declare the
same not to be my will, but this my former will
to stand] any such pretended will to the contrary
notwithstanding; yet nevertheless this clause or
any the like never so exactly penned, and although
it do restrain the revocation but in circumstance
and not altogether, is of no force or efficacy to
fortify the former will against the second ; but I
may by parole without writing repeal the same
will and make a new.
So if there be a statute made that no ^fp!^,.^'
sheriff shall continue in his office above ^^^;^^ ^'
a year, and if any patent be made to ^n. 7. a
the contrary, it shall be void ; and if there be any
clausula de non obstante contained in such patent
to dispense with this present act, that such clause
also shall be void ; yet nevertheless a patent of
the sheriff's office made by the king, with a non
obstante, will be good in law contrary to such
statute, which pretendeth to exclude non obstantes;
and the reason is, because it is an inseparable
prerogative of the crown to dispense with politic
statutes, and of that kind ; and then the deroga-
tory clause hurtelh not.
So if an act of Parliament be made, wherein
there is a clause contained that it shall not be
lawful for the king, by authority of Parliament,
during the space of seven years, to repeal and
determine the same act, this is a void clause, and
such act may be repealed within the seven years ;
and yet if the Parliament should enact in the na-
ture of the ancient kx rcgia, that there should be
no more Parliaments held, but that the king
should have the authority of the Parliament; this
act were good in law, quia potesfas suprema seip-
sum dissolverc potest, ligare non potest; for as it
is in the power of a man to kill a man, but it is
not in his jiower to save him alive, and to restrain
him from breathing or feeling; so it is in the
power of a Parliament to extinguish or transfer
their own authority, but not, whilst the authority
remains entire, to restrain the functions and ex
ercises of the same authority.
So in the 2S of K. H. VIII. chap. 17, there was
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
241
•/- statute made, that all acts that passed in the
.iiinority of kin<rs, reckoiiiiiir the same under the
years '^f twenty-four, ini<rht be annulled and
revoked by their letters patents when they came
to the same years ; but this act in the
MEl. I)y.S13. - - ,, -/, ,r,' , ...
first of K. iid. VI. who was then be-
tween the years of ten and eleven, cap. 11, was
repealed, and a new law surroirate in
-Comm.563, , , ^ , • ^
place thereof, wherein a more reason-
able liberty was given ; and wherein, though
other laws are made revocable according to the
provision of the former law with some new form
prescribed, yet that very law of revocation,
together with pardons, is made irrevocable and
perpetual, so that there is a direct contrariety
oetvveen these two laws ; for if the former stands,
which maketh all latter laws during the minority
of kings revocable without exception of any law
whatsoever, then that very law of repeal is con-
cluded in the generality, and so itself made revo-
cable : on the other side, that law making no
doubt of the absolute repeal of the first law,
though itself were made during the minority,
wlnich was the very case of the former law in the
new provision which it maketh, hath a precise
exception, that the law of repeal shall not be
repealed.
But the law is, that the first law by the imper-
tinency of it Was void ab initio et ipso facto with-
out repeal, as if a law were made, and no nevv
statute should be made during seven years, and
the same statute be repealed within the seven
years, if the first statute should be good, then the
repeal could not be made thereof within that
time ; for the law of repeal were a new law, and
that were disabled by the former law; therefore
it is void in itself, and the rule holds, perpetua hx
est, nullam legem humanarn ac positivam perpeiuam
esse ; et clausula quae ubrogationem excludit initio
nan valet.
Neither is the difference of the civil law so rea-
sonable as colourable, for they distinguish and
say that a derogatory clause is good to disable
any latter act, except you revoke the same clause
before you proceed to establish any later disposi-
tion or declaration ; for they say, that clausula
derogatoria ad alias sequentes voluntatts posita in
testamento, (^viz. si testator dicat quod si contigeril
eumfaccre alliul testamentum nonvult illud valcre,)
operatur quod sequens dispositio ab ipm clausula
reguktur, et per consequcns quod sequens dispositio
durelur si tie voluntate, et sic quod nonsit attenden.
dum. The sense is, that where a former will is
made, and after a later will, the reason why, without
an express revocation of the former will, it is by
implication revoked, is because of the repugnancy
between the disposition of the former and the
later.
But where there is such a derogatory clause,
there can be gathered no such repugnancy : be-
cause it seemeth that the testator had a purpose
Vol. Ill— 31
I at the making of the first will to make some show
of a new will, which nevertheless his intention
was should not take place : but this was answered
I before ; for if that clause were allowed to be good
I until a revocation, then would no revocation at all
be made, therefore it must needs be void by ope-
ration of law at first. Thus much of clausula
derogatoria.
REGULA XX.
Actus tnceptus, cujus perfectin pendet ex voluntate
partium, revocari potest ; si autem pendet ex
voluntate tertiae personx, vel ex contigtnti, rum
potest.
In acts that are fully executed and consum-
mate, the law makes this difference, that if the
first parties have put it in the power of a third per-
son, or of a contingency, to give a perfection to
their acts, then they have put it out of their own
reach and liberty ; therefore there is no reason
they should revoke them ; but if the consumma-
tion depend upon the same consent, which was
the inception, then the law ficcounJeth it in vain
to restrain them from revoking of it; for as they
may frustrate it by omission and non feisance, at
a certain time, or in a certain sort or circumstance,
so the law permitteth them to dissolve it by an
express consent before that time, or without that
circumstance.
Therefore if two exchange land by deed, or
without deed, and neither enter, they p. n, pr. 36.
may make a revocation or dissolution '"h. 7. 13, 14.
of the same exchange by mutual consent, so it be
bjr deed, but not by parole ; for as much as the
making of an exchange needeth no deed, because
it is to be perfected by entry, which is a ceremony
notorious in the nature of a livery ; but it cannot
be dissolved but by deed, because it dischargeth
that which is but title.
So if I contract with I. D. that if he lay me into
mv cellar three tuns of wine before
■' F. 36 El it
Mich, that I will bring into his garner
twenty quarters of wheat before Christmas, before
either of these days the parties may by assent dis-
solve the contract; but after the first day there is a
perfection given to the contract by action on the
one side, and they may make cross releases by deed
or parole, but never dissolve the contract ; for there
is a difference between dissolving the contracc, ana
release or surrender of the thing contracted for: as
if lessee for twenty years make a lease for ten years,
and after he take a lease for five years, yet this
cannot inure by way of surrender: for a peti>
lease derived out of a greater cannot be surren-
dered back again, but inureth only by dissolution
of contract ; for a lease of land is but a contract
executory from time to time of the profits of the
land, to arise as a man may sell his corn or hi8
tithe to spring or to be perceived for divers future
years.
242
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
But to return from our digression : on the otlier
side, if I contract with you for cloth at such a
price as I. S. shall name; there if I. S. refuse to
name, the contract is void ; but the parties cannot
discharge it, because they have put it in the
power of a third person to perfect.
II H 7 19 So if I grant my reversion, though
F.'^uuriimeut ''^^'^ '''^ ^"^ imperfect act before atturn-
*• rnent; yet because the atturnnient is
the act of a stranger, this is not simply revocable,
but by a policy or circumstance in law, as by
levying a fine, or making a bargain and sale, or
the like.
So if I present a clerk to the bishop,
31 Ed. 1. F. J , , • •
Q. Imp. 185. now can 1 not revoke this presentation,
89E.1. 3.35. because i have put it out ot mvselt,
U Ed. 4. 2. , . , , . , ' , , . . ■'
that IS, the bishop, by admission, to
perfect my act begun.
The same difference appeareth in nominations
and elections; as if 1 enfeoff such a one as I. D.
shall name within a year, and I. D. name I. B.
yet before the feoffment, and within the year, I.
D. may countermand his nomination, and name
again, because no interest passeth out of him.
But if I enfeoff I. S. to the use of such a one as
I. D. shall name within a year, then if I. D. name
I. B. it is not revocable, because the use passeth
presently by operation of law.
So in judicial acts the rule of the civil law
holdeth sententia inter locutoria revocari potest, that
is, that an order may be revoked, but a judgment
cannot; and the reason is, because there is title
of execution or bar given presently unto the party
upon judgment, and so it is out of the judge to
revoke, in courts ordered by the common law.
REGULA XXI.
Clausula vel dispositio inutilis per presumpfionem
remotam vel causam ex post facto nonfulcitur.
Clausula vel disposilin inutilis are said when
the act or the words do work or express no more
than the law by intendment would have supplied ;
and therefore the doubling or iterating of that and
no more, which the conceit of law doth in a sort
prevent and preoccupate, is reputed nugation, and
is not supported, and made of substance either by
a foreign intendment of some purpose, in regard
whereof it might be material, nor upon any cause
emerging afterwards, which may induce an ope-
ration of those idle words.
32 H. 8. A"d therefore if a man demise land
b^.I'm. ^t this day to his son and heir, this is
Br. devises, 41.^ void dcvise, bccause the disposition
ot law did cast the same upon the heir by descent ;
and yet if it be knio-ht's service land, and the
neir within age, if he take by the devise, he shall
have two parts of the profits to his own use, and
the guardian shall have benefit but of the third ;
but if a man devise land to his two daughters,
having no sons, t^en the devise is good, because
he doth alter the dispositi'^n of law ; for 29 h s
by the law they sliall \,aK.e in copercena- ^^- '-•
ry, but by the devise they shall take jointly; j.nd
this is not any foreign collateral purpose, but in
point of taking of estate.
So if a man make a feoffment in fee to the use
of his last will and testament, these words of
special limitation are void, and the law reserveth
the ancient use to the feoffor and his heirs ; and
yet if the words might stand, then might it be au-
thority by his will to declare and appoint uses,
and then though it were knight's service land, he
might dispose the whole. As if a man make a
feoffment in fee, to the use of the will and testa-
ment of a stranger, there the stranger may declare
a use of the whole by his will, notwithstanding
it be knight's service land ; but the reason of the
principal case is, because uses before the statute
of 27 H. 8. were to have been disposed by will,
and therefore before that statute a use limited in
the form aforesaid, was but a frivolous limitation,
in regard of the old use that the law reserved was
deviseable ; and the statute of 27 altereth not the
law, as to the creating and limiting of ,9^5 ,,
any use, and therefore after that statute, ^^'^- *-^-
and before the statute of wills, when no land
could have been devised, yet was it a void limi-
tation as before, and so continueth to this day.
But if I make a feoffment in fee to the use of
my last will and testament, thereby to de(;lare an
estate tail and no greater estate, and after my
death, and after such estate declared shall expire,
or in default of such declaration then to the use
of I. S. and his heirs, this is a good limitation ;
and I may by my will declare a use of u^ g ,,_
the whole land to a stranger, though it ^-Ed. 1.8.
be held in knight's service, and yet I have an
estate in fee simple by virtue of the old use
during life.
So if I make a feoffment in fee to the
„ • 1 . . • .1 ■ • . , 32 H. 8. 43. Dy.
use or my right heirs, this is a void 20 h. 8.8.
limitation, and the use reserved by the 71:112.237.
law doth take place : and yet if the ''
limitation should be good the heir should come
in by way of purchase, who otherwise cometh in
by descent ; but this is but a circumstance which
the law respecteth not, as was proved before.
But if I make a feoffment in fee to the use uf
my right heirs, and the right heirs of I. 10E1.274.
S. this is a good use, because I have ">•
altered the disposition of law; neither is it void
for a moiety, but both our right heirs when they
come in beingr shall take by joint pur-
o 2 F«! 3- 29.
chase ; and he to whom the first falleth so'e' i twz.
shall take the whole, subject neverthe-
less to his companion's title, so it have not de-
scended from the first heir to the heir of the heir:
for a man cannot be joint-tenant claiming by pur-
chase, and the other by descent, because they be
several titles.
So if a man having land on the part of his
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
243
mothermakeafeoiTrnentinfee tothe use of himself
and his heirs, this use, though expressed, shall not
go to him and the heirs of the part of his father
4 \u 133 pi ^^ * "^^ purchase, no more than it
si'y"- should have done if it had been a feoff-
ment in fee nakedly without consideration, for
the intendment is remote. But if baron and feme
be, and they join in a fine of the feme's land, and
express a use to the hustand and wife and their
heirs: this limitation shall give a joint estate by
intierties to them both, because the intendment
s Ed 4 s. o^ '"^^ would have conveyed the use to
19 H. 8. 11. ji,g fg^^g alone. And thus much touch-
ing foreign intendments.
For matter ex post facto, if a lease for life be
made to two, and the survivor of them, and they
after make partition : now these words (and the
survivor of them) should seem to carry purpose
as a limitation, that either of them should be
stated of his part for both their lives severally ;
30^,, g fit^but yet the law at the first construeth
SnV^x' 46. the words but words of dilating to de-
pi. 7. uy. scribe a joint estate ; and if one of them
die after partition, there shall be no occupant, but
his part shall revert.
So if a man grant a rent charge out of ten acres,
and grant further that the whole rent shall issue
out of every acre, and distress accordingly, and
afterwards the grantee purchase an acre: now
this clause should seem to be material to uphold
the rent; but yet nevertheless the law at first ac-
cepteth of these words but as words of explana-
tion, and then notwithstanding the whole rent is
extinct.
4EJ. 6. So if a gift in tail be made upon con-
per"Hm;ie. dition, that if tenant in tail die without
27H. S.6. iggije, it shall be lawful for the donor
to enter; and the donee discontinue and die with-
out issue ; now this condition should seem ma-
terial to give him benefit of entry, but because it
did at the first limit the estate according to the
limitation of law, it worketh nothing upon this
matter emergent afterward.
22 Ass. ^o if ^ S^^^ i" t^'l ^^ made of lands
^'- *^- held in knight's service with an express
reservation of the same service, whereby the land
is held over, and the gift is with warranty, and
the land is evicted, and other land recovered in
value against the donor, held in socage, now the
tenure which the law makes between the donor
and donee shall be in socage, and not in knight's
service, because the first reservation was accord-
ing to the owelty of service, which was no more
than the law would have reserved.
But if a gift in tail had been made of lands
held in socage with a reservation of knight's ser-
vice tenure, and with warranty, then, because the
intendment of law is altered, the new land shall
be held by the same service the last land was,
without any regard at all to the tenure paramount:
and thus much of matter ex post facto.
This rule faileth where that the law saith as
much as the party, but upon foreign matter not
pregnant and appearing upon the same act and
conveyance, as if lessee for life be, and he lets
for twenty years, if he live so long; this limita-
tion (if he live so long) is no more than the law
saith, but it doth not appear upon the same con-
veyance or act, that this limitation is nugatory,
but it is foreign matter in respect of the truth of
the state whence the lease is derived : and, there-
fore, if lessee for life make a feoflfment in fee, yet
the state of the lease for years is not ^h 7 4
enlarged against the feoffee ; otherwise ^'"E'd's.^s.
had it been if such limitation had not f''*p' ss.
been, but that it had been left only to the law.
So if tenant after possibility make a lea-se for
years, and the donor confirms to the lessee to
hold without impeachment of waste during the life
of tenant in tail, this is no more than the law saith ;
but the privilege of tenant after possibility is fo-
reign matter, as to the lease and confirmation : and
therefore if tenant after possibility do surrender,
yet the lessee shall hold dispunishable of waste ;
otherwise had it been if no such confirmation at
all had been made.
Also heed must be given that it be indeed the
same thing which the law intendeth, and which
the party expresseth, and not like or resembling,
and such as may stand both together : for if I let
land for life rendering a rent, and by my deed
warrant the same land, this warranty 20 Ed. 2.
in law and warranty in deed are not the fj-'j;./ ,_
same thing, but may both stand to- zouch.289.
gether.
There remaineth yet a great question on this
rule.
A principal reason whereupon this rule is built,
should seem to be, because such acts or clauses
are thought to be but declaratory, and added upon
ignorance and ex consuetudine clericorum, upon
observing of a common form, and not upon pur-
pose or meaning, and therefore whether by par-
ticular and precise words a man may not control
the intendment of the law.
To this I answer, that no precise or express
words will control this intendment of law ; but
as the general words are void, because they say
contrary to that the law saith ; so are they which
are thought to be against the law: and theretore
if I demise my land being knight's service tenure
to my heir, and express my intention to be, that
the one part should descend to him as the third
appointed by statute, and the other he shall tak**
by devise to his own use; yet this is void: fc>r
the law saith, he is in by descent of the whob;.
and I say he shall be in by devise, which is against
the law.
But if I make a gift in tail, and say
upon condition, that if tenant in tail ^*p^-^
discontinue and after die without issue, it shall
be lawful for nie to enter; this is a good clause
244
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
to make a condition, because it is but in one case,
and doth not cross the law generally : for if the
tenant in tail in that case be disseised, and a de-
scent cast, and die without issue, 1 that am the
donor shall not enter.
But if the clause had been provided, that if
tenant in tail discontinue, or suffer a descent, or
do any other fact whatsoever, that after his death
without issue it shall be lawful for me to enter :
now this is a void condition, for it importeth a re-
pugnancy to law ; as if I would over-rule that
where the law saith I am put to my action, I
nevertheless will reserve to myself an entry.
REGULA XXII.
Non videtur consensurn retinuisse si quis ex prx-
scripto minantis aliquid immutavit.
Although choice and election be a badge of
consent, yet if the first ground of the act be du-
resse, the law will not construe that the duresse
doth determine, if the party duressed do make any
motion or offer.
Therefore if a party menace me, except I make
unto him a bond of forty pounds, and 1 tell him
that I will not do it, but I will make unto him a
bond of twenty pounds, the law shall not expound
this bond to be voluntary, but shall rather make
construction that my mind and courage is not to
• enter into the greater bond for any menace, and
yet that I enter by compulsion notwithstanding
into the lesser.
But if I will draw any consideration to myself,
as if I had said, I will enter into your bond of
forty pounds, if you will deliver me that piece of
plate, now the duresse is discharged ; and yet if
it had been moved from the duressor, who had
said at the first. You shall take this piece of
plate, and make me a bond of forty pounds, now
the gift of the plate had been good, and yet the
bond shall be avoided by duresse.
REGULA XXIII.
Jimbiguifas verborum latens verificatione suppktur ,•
nam quod ex facto oritur amhiguum verijicatione
facii tollitur.
There be two sorts of ambiguities of words,
the one is ambiguitas patens, and the other latens.
Paten is that which appears to be ambiguous
upon the deed or instrument; latens is that which
seemeth certain and without ambiguity, for any
thing thatappeareth upon the deed or instrument;
but there is some collateral matter out of the deed
that breedeth the ambiguity.
Ambiguitas patens is never holpen by averment,
and the reason is, because the law will not couple
and mingle matter of specialty, which is of the
higher account, with matter of averment, which
19 of inferior account in law ; for that were to
tnak«i all deeds hollow, and subject to averments.
and so in effect, that to pass without deed, wliicjj
the law appointeth shall not pass but by deed,
! Therefore if a man give land to 7. D. et I. S. et
I hasredibiis, and do not limit to whether of their
j heirs, it shall not be supplied by averment to
j whether of them the intention was tne inheritance
should be limited.
So if a man give land in tail, though it be by
will, the remainder in tail, and add a proviso in
this manner : Provided that if he, or they, or any
of them do any, &c. according to the usual
clauses of perpetuities, it cannot be averred upon
the ambiguities of the reference of this clause,
that the intent of the devisor was, that the re-
straint should go only to him in the remainder,
and the heirs of his body ; and that the tenant in
tail in possession was meant to be at large.
Of these infinite cases might be put, for if
holdeth generally that all ambiguity of words by
matter within the deed, and not out of the deed,
shall be holpen by construction, or in some case
by election, but never by averment, but rather
shall make the deed void for uncertainty.
But if it be ambiguitas latens, then otherwise
it is: as if I grant iriy manor of S. to I. F. and
his heirs, here appeareth no ambiguity at all; but
if the truth be, that I have the manors both of
South S. and North S. this ambiguity is matter
in fact, and therefore shall be holpen by aver-
ment, whether of them was that the party intend-
ed should pass.
So if I set forth my land by quantity, then it
shall be supplied by election, and not averment.
As if I grant ten acres of wood in sale, where 1
have a hundred acres, whether I say it in my
deed or no, that I grant out of my hundred acres,
yet here shall be an election in the grantee, which
ten he will take.
And the reason is plain, for the presumption of
the law is, where the thing is only nominated by
quantity, that the parties had indifferent inten-
tions which should be taken, and there being no
cause to help the uncertainty by intention, it shall
be holpen by election.
But in the former case the difference holdeth,
where it is expressed and where not ; for if I re-
cite. Whereas I am seised of the manor of Nortli
S. and South S. I lease unto you ut'sun rnanerium
de S. there it is clearly an election. So if I recite,
W^here I have two tenements in St. Dunstan's, I
lease unto you wnum tenementum, there it is an
election, not averment of intention, except the
intent were of an election, which maT be special-
ly averred.
Another sort of ambiguitas latens is correlative
unto these : for this ambiguity spoken of before,
is when one name and a])pellation doth denomi-
nate divers things, and the second, when the same
thing is called by divers names.
As if I give lands to Christ-Church in Oxford,
and the name of the corporation is Eccksia Chridt
MAXIMS OF THE LAW
34&
in Universilate Oafnrd, this shall be hoi pen by
averment, because there appea/-- no anihi<riiity in
the words : for this variance is matter in fact, but
the averment shall not be of intention, because it
doth stand with the words.
For in the case of equivocation the general in-
tent includes both the special, and therefore stands
with the words : but so it is not in variance, and
therefore the averment must be of matter, that do
endure quantity, and not intention.
As to say, of the precinct of Oxford, and of
the University '>*' f^xford, is one and the same, and
not to say thai ihe intention of the parties was,
that the grant should be to Christ-Church in that
University of Oxford.
REGULA XXIV.
Licita bene miscenlur, formula nisi juris obstet.
The law giveth that favour to lawful acts, that
although they be executed by several authorities,
yet the whole act is good.
As when tenant for life is the remainder in fee,
and they join in a livery by deed or without, this
is one good entire livery drawn from them both,
and doth not inure to a surrender of a particular
estate, if it be without deed* or confirmation of
those in the remainder, if it be by deed ; but they
are all parties to the livery.
So if tenant for life the remainder in fee be, and
they join in granting a rent, this is one solid rent
out of both their estates, and no double rent, or
rent by confirmation.
So if tenant in tail be at this day, and he make
a lease for three lives, and his own, this is a good
lease, and warranted by the statute of
"*"■ 32 H. VIII. and yet it is good in part
by the authority which tenant in tail hath by the
common law, that is for his own life, and in part
by the authority which he hath by the statute,
that is, for the other three lives.
So if a man, seised of lands deviseable by cus-
tom, and of other land held in knight's service,
and devise all his lands, this is a good devise of
all the land customary by the common law, and
of two parts of the other land by the statutes.
So in the Star Chamber a sentence may be
good, grounded in part upon the authority given
the court by the statute of 3 H. VII. and in
part upon that ancient authority which the court
hath by the common law, and so upon several
commissions.
But if there be any form which the law appointeth
to be observed, which cannot agree with the di-
versities of authorities, then this rule faileth.
* Semble cleerement le ley d'estre contrary in anibidenx
eases, car loii est sans fait est livery solenient de cestui in le
rem' et siirr' de panic' ten' auterment serra forfeiture de son
estate, et Ion est per fait, le livery passa solement de tenant,
car il ad le frank teiienient, vide accordant. Sn^Co. lib. 1. 76.
h 77. a. Com. Plow. 59. A. 140. 2 II. 5. 7. 13 H.7. 14. 13 Ed.
4 ♦ a, 27 H. 8. 13. M. 16. et 17. El. Dy. 339.
As if three coparceners be, and one ji them
alien her purparty, the feoffee and one of the sis-
ters cannot join in a writ de part'' facien- ywe i inint
(/a, because it behoireth the feoffee to "*''
mention the statute in his writ.
REGULA XXV.
Prassentta corporis tollit errorem nominis, et reritaa
nominis tollit errorem demonstraiionis.
There be three degrees of certainty.
1. Presence.
2. Name.
3. Demonstration or reference.
Whereof the presence the law holdeth of
greatest dignity, the name in the second degree,
and the demonstration or reference in the lowest,
and always the erroror falsity in the less worthy.
And therefore if I give a horse to I. D. being
present, and say unto him, I. S. take this, this is
a good gift, notwithstanding I call him by a
wrong name : but so had it not been if I had de-
livered him to a stranger to the use of I. S. where
I meant I. D.
So if I say unto I. S. Here I give you my ring'
with the ruby, and deliver it with my hand, and
the ring bear a diamond and no ruby, this is a
good gift notwithstanding I name it amiss.
So had it been if by word or writing, without
the delivery of the thing itself, I had given the
ring with the ruby, although I had no such, but
only one with a diamond, which I meant, yet it
would have passed.
So if I by deed grant unto you, by general
words, all the lands that the king hath passed
unto me by letters patents, dated 10 May, unto
this present indenture annexed, and the patent
annexed have date 10 July, yet if it be proved
that that was the true patent annexed, the pre-
sence of the patent maketh the error of the date
recited not material ; yet if no patent had been
annexed, and there had been also no other cer-
tainty given, but the reference of the patent, the
date whereof was misrecited, although I had
no other patent ever of the king, yet nothing
would have passed.
Like law is it, but more doubtful, where there
is not a presence, but a kind of representation,
which is less worthy than a presence^ and yet
more worthy than a name or reference.
As if I covenant with my ward, that I will ten-
der unto him no other marriage than the gentle-
woman whose picture I delivered him, and that
picture hath about it xtatis sux anno 16, and the
gentlewoman is seventeen years old; yet never-
theless, if it can be proved that the picture wasi
made for that gentlewoman, I may notwithstand-
ing this mistaking, tender her well enough.
So if I grant you for life a way over my land,
according to a plot intended between us, and
after I grant unto you and your heirs a way a<^
x3
246
MAXIMS OF THE LAW.
cording to the first plot intended, whereof a tahle
IS annexed to these presents, and there be some
special variance between the table and the origi-
nal plot, yet this representation shall he certainty
sufficient to lead unto the first plot; and you shall
have the way in fee nevertheless, according to the
first plot, and not according to the table.
So if I grant unto you by general words the
land which the king hath granted me by his let-
ters patents, quarum tenor sequitur in hxc verba,
&c. and there be some mistaking in the recital and
variance from the original patent, although it be
in a point material, yet the representation of this
R'hole patent shall be as the annexing of the true
patent, and the grant shall not be void by this
variance.
Now for the second part of this rule, touching
the name and the reference, for the explaining
thereof, it must be noted what things sound in
demonstration or addition : as first in lands, the
greatest certainty is, where the land hath a name
proper, as, the manor of Dale, Granfield, &c. the
next is equal to that, when the land is set forth
by bounds and abuttals, as a close of pasture
bounding on the east part upon Emsden Wood,
on the south upon, &c. It is also a sufficient
name to lay the general boundary, that is, some
place of larger precinct, if there be no other land to
pass in the same precinct, as all my lands in
Dale, my tenement in St. Dunstan's parish, &c.
A farther sort of denomination is to name land
by the attendancy they have to otlier lands more
notorious, as parcel of my manor of D. belonging
to such a college lying upon Thames' Bank.
All these things are notes found in denomina-
tion of lands, because they be signs to call, and
therefore of property to signify and name a place :
but these notes that sound only in demonstration
and addition, are such as are but transitory and
accidental to the nature of the place.
As modo in teiiura et occupaiione of the proprie-
tary, tenure or possessor is but a thing transitory
in respfect of land ; Generatio venit, generatio mi-
grai, terra autem manet in asternum.
So likewise matter of conveyance, title, or
instrument.
As, quie perquisivi de I, D. quae descendebant a
J. iV. patre meo, or, in prasdicta indenturu dismis-
sionis, or, in praedidis Uteris patentibus specijkaf.
So likewise, continenV per aestimaiionem 20
acras, or if (per asstimationem) be left out, all is
one, for it is understood, and this matter of mea-
sure, although it seem local, yet it is indeed but
opinion and observation of men.
The distinction being made, the rule is to be
<!xamined by ii.
Therefore if I grant my close called Dale, in
the parish of Hurst, in the county of Southamp-
ton, and the parish likewise extendeth into the
county of Berkshire, and the whole close of Dale
licth in the county of Berkshire ; yet because the
parcel is especially named, the falsity of (he ac
dition hurteth not, and yet this addition U found
in name, but (as it was said) it was less worthy
than a proper name.
So if I grant tenementum meum, or omnia tene-
menta mea, (for the universal and indefinite to
this purpose are all one) in parochia Sancti Luiol-
phi extra Jlldgate (where the verity is extra Bish-
opsgale) in tenura Guilielmi, which is true, yet
this grant is void, because that which sounds in
denomination is false, which is the more worthv ;
and that which sounds in addition is true, which
is the less;* and though in tenura Guilielmi,
which is true, had been first placed, yet it had
been all one.
But if I grant tenementum meum quod yy^ j^,
perquisivi de R. C. in Dale, where the f™,"4r'k7'
truth was T. C. and I have no other ewiLintyTt*'
tenements in D. but one, this grant is '*""•
good, because that which soundeth in name
(namely, in Bale) is true, and that which sound-
ed in addition (mz. quod perquisivi, &c.) is only
false.
So if I grant prata mea in Sale continentia 10
acras, and they contain indeed 20 acres, the whole
twenty pass.
So if I grant all my lands, being parcels ma-
nerii deD. in prsedidis Uteris patentibus specificat\
and there be no letters patents, yet the grant is
good enough.
The like reason holds in demonstrations of per-
sons, that have been declared in demonstration of
lands and places, the proper name of every one is
in certainty worthiest : next are such appellations
as are fixed to his person, or at least of continu-
ance, as, son of such a man, wife of such a bus-
band; or addition of office, as, clerk of such a
court, &c.: and the third are actions or accidents,
which sound no way in appellation or name, hut
only in circumstance, which are less worthy,
althougli they may have a poor particular refer-
ence to the intention of the grant.
And therefore if an obligation be made to I. S.
filio et hxredi G. S. where indeed he is a bastard,
yet this obligation is good.
So if I grant land Episcopo mine Londinensi qui
me erudivit in pueritia, this is a good grant,
although he never instructed me.
But e converso, if 1 grant land to I. S. filio et
haeredi G. S. and it be true that he is son and heir
unto G. S. but his name is Thomas, this is a void
grant.
Or if in the former grant it was the Bishop of
Canterbury who taught me in my childhood, yet
shall it be good (as was said) to the Bishop of
London, and not to the Bishop of Canterbury.
The same rule holdeth of denomination of times,
which are such a day of the month, such a day
♦ Seiiible icy le prant list este assets bon, roine fiiit lesolu
per Cur', Co. lib. 3. fol. 10. a vide 33 H. 8. Uy. 50. b. 12 El
ib. 292. b. et Co. lib. 2. fo. 33. a .
THE USE OF THE LAW.
247
of the wppk, such a Saint's day or eve, to-day,
to-morrow ; these are names of times.
But the day that I was born, the day tliat I was
married • these are but circumstances and addition
of times.
And therefore if I bind myself to do some per-
sonal attendance upon you upon Innocents' day,
being the day of your birth, and you were not
born that day, yet shall I attend.
There resteth two questions of difficulty yet
upon this rule: first, Of such things whereof
men take not so much note as that they shall
fail of this distinction of name and addition.
As, my box of ivory lying in my study sealed
up with my seal of arms ; my suit of arras with
the story of the nativity and passion: of such
things there can be no name but all is of descrip-
tion, and of circumstance, and of these I hold the
law to be, that precise trutli of all recited circum-
stances is not required.
But in such things ex mulliludine signorum
co'ligitur idenlitas vera, therefore though my box
were sealed, and although the arras had the story
of the nativity, and not of the passion, if I had no
other box, nor no other suit, the gifts are good ;
and there is certainty sufficient, for the law doth
not expect a precise description of such things as
have no certain denomination.
Secondly, Of such things as do admit the
distinction of name and addition, but the notes
fall out to be of equal dignity all of name or
addition.
As prat a mea juxta comviunem fossam in D,
whereof the one is true, the other false ; or tene-
mentum meurn intenura Guilielmi quod perquisivi
de R. C. in praedict'' indent'' specijicat\ whereof
one is true, and two are false ; or two are true,
and one false.
So ad curiam quam tenehat die Mercurii tertio
die Martii, whereof the one is true, the other
false.
In these cases the former rule, ex multitudine
signorum, &c. holdeth not; neither is the placing
of the falsity or verity first or last material, but all
must be true, or else the grant is void ;
always understood, that if you can re- avanid°"ur
concile all the words, and make no
falsity, that is quite out of this rule, which hath
place only where there is a direct contrariety or
falsity not to be reconciled to this rule.
As if I grant all my land in D. in tenura I. S.
which I purchased of I. N. specified in a devise to
I. D. and I have land in D. whereof in part of
them all these circumstances are true, but I have
other lands in I), wherein some of them fail,
this grant will not pass all my land in D. for
there these are references, and no wo-ds of falsity
or error, but of limitation and restraint.
USE OF THE LAW,
PROVIDED FOR
PRESERVATION OF OUR PERSONS, GOODS, AND GOOD NAMES.
ACCORDING TO THE
PRACTICE OF THE LAWS AND CUSTOMS OF THIS LAND.
, „^ „, ,^g The use of the law consisteth prin-
I principally
To secure men's persons from
death and violence.
II. To dispose the property of their goods and
lands.
III. For preservation of their good names from
shame and infamy.
Ruretr to keep ^^T safcty of pcrsous, the law pro-
thep^ace. yidcth that any man standing in fear
of another, may take his oath before a justice of
peace, that he standeth in fear of his life, and the
justice shall compel the other to be bound with
sureties to keep the peace.
Action of the
If any man beat, wound, or maim
another, or give false scandalous words T";i,^°,l^l^l
that may touch his credit, the law
giveth thereupon an action of the case, for the
slander of his good name; and an action of bat-
tery, or an appeal of maim, by which recompense
shall be recovered, to the value of the hurt,
damage, or danger.
If any man kill another with malice, Appe.i of mnr-
the law giveth an appeal to the wife ^eii^of'kir "'*
of the dead, if he had any, or to the next
of kin that is heir in default of a wife, by which
appeal the defendant convicted is to suffer death,
and to lose all his lands and ffoods. But if the
248
THE USE OF THE LAW.
wife or hnir will not sue or be compounded withal,
yet the king is to punish the offence by indict-
ment or presentment of a lawful inquest and trial
of the offenders before competent judges; where-
upon being found guilty, he is to suffer death,
and to lose his lands and goods.
Mansiaushter ^^ ^"^ ^^^^ another upon a sudden
f«!it'ure''of"go<iJs quarrel, this is manslaughter, for which
au.i when not. ^jjg offender must die, except he can
read ; and if he can read, yet must he lose his
goods, but no lands.
And if a man kill another in his own defence,
he shall not lose his life, nor his lands, but he
must lose his goods, except the party slain did
first assault him, to kill, rob, or trouble him by
the highway side, or in his own house, and then
he shall lose nothing.
And if a man kill himself, all his
goods and chattels are forfeited, but
no lands.
Felony by mis- ^^ ^ "^^^ ^^^^ anothcr by misfortune,
jbance. jjj, ghooting an arrow at a butt or mark,
or casting a stone over a house, or the like, this
is loss of his goods and chattels, but not of his
lands, nor life.
If a horse, or cart, or a beast, or any
other thing do kill a man, the horse,
beast, or other thing, is forfeited to the crown, and
is called a deodand, and usually granted and
allowec. oy the king to the Bishop Almner, as
goods are of those that kill themselves.
The cuttingf out of a man's tongue,
Cutting c
pum".g'..u°of Of" putting out his eyes maliciously, is
eyes, made fe. felony; for which the offender is to
suffer death, and lose his lands and
lony.
goods.
£ui for that all punishment is for example's sake ,•
it is good to see the means tvhereby offenders are
drawn to their punishment ,• and first for the mat-
ter of the peace.
The ancient laws of England planted here by
the conqueror were, that there should be officers
of two sorts in all the parts of this realm to pre-
serve the peace : —
1. Constabularii
2. Conservatores
■Pacts.
The office of
The office of the constable was, to
the constable. ^^^^^^ ^jjg parties that he had seen
breaking the peace, or in fury ready to break the
peace, or was truly informed by others, or by their
own confession, that they had freshly broken the
peace ; which persons he might imprison in the
stocks, or in his own house, as his or their quality
required, until they had become bounden with
sureties to keep the peace ; which obligation from
'henceforth was to be sealed and delivered to the
<^onstable to the use of tne king. And that the
constable was to send to the king's Exchequer or
Chancery, from whence procesfs should be award
ed to levy the debt, if the peace were broken.
But the constable could not arrest any, nor
make any put in bond upon complaint of threat,
ening only, except they had seen them i)reaking
the peace, or had come freshly after the peace
was broken. Also, these constables should keep
watch about the town for the apprehension of
rogues and vagabonds, and night-walkers, and
eves-droppers, scouts, and such like, and such as
go armed. And they ought likewise to raise hue
and cry against murderers, manslayers, thieves,
and rogues.
Of this office of constable there were 2. nigh con-
high constables, two of every hundred ; h'^!,^Ji!"'"^
petty constables, one in every village ; UuthTevtrj
they were, in ancient time, all ap- "'"^s'^-
pointed by the sheriff of the shire yearly, in his
court called the Sheriff's Tourn, and there they
received their oath. But at this day they are ap-
pointed either in the law-day of that precinct
wherein they serve, or else by the high constable
in the sessions of the peace.
The sheriff's Tourn is a court very yy,^ Ki„j^
ancient, incident to his office. At the Sed.*;!'^
first, it was erected by the conqueror, Jhey'alldentiy
and called the King's Bench, appoint- {lolJ"""'""
ing men studied in the knowledge of
the laws to execute justice, as substitutes to him
in his name, which men are to be named, Justici-
arii ad placifa coram Rege assignati. One of
them being Capitalis Justiciarius called to his fel-
lows ; the rest in number as pleaseth the king, of
late but three Justiciarii, holden by patent. In
this court every man above twelve years of age
was to take his oath of allegiance to the king, if
he were bound, then his lord to answer for him.
In this court the constables were appointed and
sworn; breakers of the peace punished by fine
and imprisonment, the parties beaten or hurt
recompensed upon complaints of damages; all
appeals of murder, maim, robbery, decided ; con-
tempts against the crown, public annoyances
against the people, treasons and felonies, and all
other matters of wrong, betwixt party and party,
for lands and goods.
But the king seeing the realm grow (,„„„ „, „„.
daily more and more populous, and ^'idttsPS
that this one court could not dispatch
all, did first ordain that his marshal
should keep a court for controversies
arising within the virge; which is """"'s'-
within twelve miles of the chiefest tunnel of the
court, which did but ease the King's Bench in
matters only concerning debts, covenants, and
such like, of those of the king's household only,
never dealing in breaches of the neace, or con-
i cerning the crown by any other persons, or any
I pleas of lands. Insomuch as the king, for further
ease, having divided this kingdom into counties,
I and committing the charge of every county to a
the chief t
ofthckini
vhich is
THE USE OF THE LAW.
249
oauntien, the
char)?e c,( Ihii f,f .U
court ivucore "' *•"
lord or earl, did direct that those earls,
within their limits, should look to the
matter of the peace, and take charge
cohstables, and reform public
Mr*fihe'«me annoyances, and swear the people to
V^u^,-w!L th^ crown, and take pledg'es of the
^wa""pV freemen for their allegiance, for which
purpose the county did once every year
keep a court, called the SlierilT's Tourn ; at
which all the county (except women, clergy,
children under twelve, and not aged above sixty)
did appear to give or renew their pledges of alle-
giance. And the court was called Curia Franci
P/egii, a view of the Pledges of Freemen ; or,
l^irnus Comitatus.
suixiivision of ^t which meeting or court there fell,
iutoh'SX'^' by occasion of great assemblies, much
bloodshed, scarcity of victuals, muti-
nies, and the like mischiefs which are incident to
the congregations of people, by which the king
was moved to allow a subdivision of every county
into hundreds, and every hundred to have a court,
whereunto the people of every hundred should be
assembled twice a year for survey of pledges, and
use of that justice which was formerly executed
in that grand court for the county ; and the count
or earl appointed a bailiff under him to keep the
hundred court. But in the end, the kings of this
realm found it necessary to have all execution of
justice immediately from themselves, by such as
The charts of ^^re morc bound than earls to that ser-
t.ikra'froL the vice, and readily subject to correction
^mti'yelr'i^'to ^^r their negligence or abuse; and
therefore took to themselves the ap-
pointing of a sheriff yearly in every
county, calling them vicecomites, and to them di-
rected such writs and precepts for executing jus-
tice in the county as fell out needful to have been
despatched, committing to the sheriff cusfodium
cnmitatus; by which the earls were spared of
their toils and labours, and that was laid upon the
The sheriff i9 sherlffs. So as now the sheriff doth
ttrelf courts ^'^ ^he kiug's busiucss in the county,
ivomthecrown'! ^"<i ^hat is now Called the Sheriff's
Tourn; that is to- say, he is judge of
this grand court for the county, and also of all
hundred courts not given away from the crown.
He hath another court, called the
ke°Tmn,"hiy County Court, belonging to his office,
by the sheriff. , / ,, i /-
wherein men may sue monthly for any
debt or damages under forty pounds, and may
have writs for to replevy their cattle distrained
and impounded by others, and there try the cause
of their distress ; and by a writ called Jtisficies,
a man may sue for any sum ; and in this court the
sheriff, by a writ called an exigent, doth proclaim
men sued in courts above to render their bodies,
or else they be outlawed.
The office of Thls sheriff doth serve the king's
ne sheriff writs of process, be they summons, at-
tachments to compel men to answer to the law,
Vol. hi.— 32
such persons j
il pleaseJ the
king.
' and all writs of execution of the law, according
to judgments of superior court, for taking of men's
j goods, lands, or bodies, as the cause retpiireth.
1 The hundred courts were most of Hundred courti
them granted to religious men, noble- iCere'^klit*''
men, and others of great place. And si^'*^-
also many men of good quality have attained by
charter, and some by usage, within manors of their
own liberty, of kee|)ing law days, and to use
there justice appertaining to a law day.
Whosoever is lord of the hundred Lord of the
court is to appoint two high constables [;;!|„'',''n!.o''h1Jh
of the hundred, and also is to appoint 'o""^""-
in every village a petty constable, with a tithing
man to attend in his absence, and to be at his
commandment when he is present in all services
of his office for his assistance.
There have been by use and statute law (be-
sides surveying of the pledges of freemen, and
giving the oath of allegiance, and making consta-
bles) many additions of powers and authority
given to the stewards of leets and law-days to be
put in ure in their courts; as for example, they
may punish innkeepers, victuallers, bakers, but-
chers, poulterers, fishmongers, and tradesmen of
all sorts selling with under weights or measures,
or at excessive prices, or things unwholesome, or
ill made in deceit of the people. They may pu-
nish those that do stop, straiten, or annoy the
highways, or do not, according to the provision
enacted, repair or amend them, or divert water
courses, or destroy fry of fish, or use or what mat-
engines or nets to take deer, conies, qu7rl''o7inTe.t.
pheasants, or partridges, or build pigeon *"'' '>"-<'»y«-
houses, except he be lord of the manor, or parson
of the church. They may also take presentment
upon oath of the twelve sworn jury before them
of all felonies; but they cannot try the malefac-
tors, only they must by indenture deliver over
those presentments of felony to the judges, when
they come their circuits into that county. All
those courts before mentioned are in use, and
exercised as law at this day, concerning the she-
riffs' law days and leets, and the offices of high
constables, petty constables and tithing men ;
howbeit, with some further additions by statute
laws, laying charge upon them for taxation for
poor, for soldiers, and the like, and dealing with-
out corruption, and the like.
Conservators of the peace were in
ancient times certain, which were as- the'r
sigrned by the king to see the peace >/nt ^or'Tenn
• ^ • J J ..1 11 J ^ of their live
maintained, and they were called to or at the kin*'.
the office by the king's writ, to con- ''""'"'^
tinue for term of their lives, or at the king's
pleasure.
, For this service, choice was made of conservators of
j the best men of calling in the country, "i'hat'The^r'S
I and but few in the shire. They might *" '^'*'
bind any man to keep the peace, and to good
behaviour, by recognisance to the king, witi
250
THE USE OF THE LAW.
nreties ; and tliey might by warrant send for the
party, directing their warrant to the sheriiT or con-
stable, as they please, to arrest the party, and
bring him before them. This they used to do
when complaint was made by any that he stood
in fear of another, and so took his oath ; or else,
where the conservator himself did, without oath
cc complaint, see the disposition of any man in-
« lined to quarrel and breach of the peace, or to
i.isbehave himself in some outrageous manner of
force or fraud, there, by his own discretion, he
might send for such a fellow, and make him find
sureties of the peace, or of his good behaviour, as
he should see cause; or else commit him to the
gaol if he refused.
rmuervatorsof The judges of either bench in West-
l^riueoHheir minster, barons of the Exchequer,
office. master of the rolls, and justices in eyre
and assizes in their circuits, were all, without
writ, conservators of the peace in all shires of
England, and continue to this day.
Justices of But now at this day conservators of
rXVofcomfr. the peace are out of use, and in lieu of
ofphcinsTn" them there are ordained justices of
ofTeace'by"^^ peace, assigned by the king's commis-
th1'^kms''to The slous in evcry county, which are move-
chaoceiior. jj(,]g ^^ ^j^g klug's plcasuro ; but the
power of placing and displacing justices of the
peace is by use delegated from the king to the
chancellor.
That there should be justices of the peace by
commissions, it was first enacted by a statute
made 1 Edward III. and their authority augment-
ed by many statutes made since in every king's
reign.
They are appointed to keep four ses-
sions every year ; that is every quarter
one. These sessions are a sitting of
the justices to despatch the affairs of
their commissions. They have power
to hear and determine in their sessions
all felonies, breaches of the peace, con-
tempts, and trespasses, so far as to fine
the offender to the crown, but not to
award recompense to the party grieved.
They are to suppress riots and tu-
Authnritv of . -' ' r _ - ., ,
the ji.siices of mults, to restore possessions forcibly
pftace, tliroui^h • 1 1 /. i
whom run all takcu away, to examine all felons ap-
vices uato the prcheuded and brought before them;
crown. ■ . ^ . '
to see impotent poor people, or maimed
soldiers provided for according to the laws, and
rogues, vagabonds, and beggrars punished. They
are both to license and suppress alehouses, bad-
gers of corn and victuals, and to punish fore-
stallers. regrators, and engrossers.
Through these in effect run all the county ser-
vices to the crown, as taxations of subsidies, mus-
tering men, arming them, and levying forces, that
is done by a special commission or precept from
the king. Any of these justices, by oath taken
]>y a man that he standeth in fear that another
The power of
the .iustices of
peace to fine '
ttie ufTenders to
pense the party
Pari. Stat. 17.
R. 2. cap. 10 &
\.Die.,;ti9 b.
lis. ount poiar
d'inquier de
felon.
man will beat him, or kill him, or burn
his house, are to send for the party by in?, o"u*r;ns oi
warrant of attachment, directed to the menu Vor .we
sheriff or constable, and then to bind "'' "''"*"
the party with sureties by recognisance to the
king to keep the peace, and also to appear at the
next sessions of the peace; at which next ses-
sions, when every justice of peace hath therein
delivered all their recognisances so
, , , . 11 1 1 Recognisance
taken, then the parties are called, and ofihe [leace de-
, n 1 • T 1 livered by the
the cause oi binding to the peace ex- justice, at
amined, and both parties being heard,
the whole bench is to determine as they see cause,
either to continue the party so bound, or else to
discharge him.
The justices of peace in their ses- q„,rter session,
sions are attended by the constables Sontle'''"'
and bailiffs of all hundreds and liberties '"''"•
within the county, and by the sheriff or his de-
puty, to be employed as occasion shall serve
in executing the precepts and directions of the
court. They proceed in this sort: the sheriff
doth summon twenty-four freeholders, discreet
men of the said county, whereof some sixteen are
selected and sworn, and have their charge to
serve as the grand jury, the party indicted is to
traverse the indictment, or else to confess it, and
so submit himself to be fined as the court shall
think meet, (regard had to the offence,) except the
punishment be certainly appointed, as often it is,
by special statutes.
The justices of peace are many in every county,
and to them are brought all traitors, felons, and
other malefactors of any sort upon their first
apprehension, and that justice to whom they are
brought examineth them, and heareth their accu-
sations, but judgeth not upon it; only if he find
the suspicion but light, then he taketh bond, with
sureties of the accused, to appear either at the
next assizes, if it be matter of treason or felony,
or else at the quarter sessions, if it be concerning
riot or misbehaviour, or some other small offence.
And he also then bindeth to appear those that give
testimony and prosecute the accusation, all the
accusers and witnesses, and so setteth the party at
large. And at the assizes or sessions The authority
(as the case falleth out) he certifieth "U^^cZuL
the recognisances taken of the ac- 'heir sessions.
cused, accusers, and witnesses, who being there
are called, and appearing, the cause of the accused
is debated according to law for his clearing or
condemning.
But if the party accused seem upon pregnant
matter in the accusation, and to the justice to be
guilty, and the offence heinous, or the offender
taken with the manner, then the justice is to com-
mit the party by his warrant called a mittimus to
the gaoler of the common gaol of the county,
there to remain until the assizes. And then the
justice is to certify his accusation, examination,
and recognisance taken for the appeal aaces and
THE USE OF THE LAW.
281
orosecution of the witnesses, so as the judges
may, when they come, readily proceed with him
as the law requireth.
juds«of >»i« 'A'he judges of the assizes, as they be
of"ihe'°anci™t "o^ become into the place of the an-
itourtLeimie cicnt justices in eyre, called jusliciarii
°(^-'^ itinerantes, which, in the prime kings
after the conquest, until Henry the Third's time
especially, and after, in lesser measure, even to
Richard the Second's time, did execute the jus-
tice of the realm; they began in this sort.
The king, not able to despatch business in his
own person, erected the Court of King's Bench ;*
that not able to receive all, nor meet to draw the
Theauthoriiy pcop\e all to One place, there were or-
huDdreTs; and'' dained counties and the sheriff's tourns,
ww^confirmeii hundred courts, and particular leets,
MUKs'toucWn? ^"^ law-days, as before mentioned,
the public good, yyiiich dealt only with crown matters
for the public; but not the private titles of lands
or goods, nor the trial of grand offences, of trea-
sons, and felonies, but all the counties of the
realm were divided into six circuits. And two
learned men well read in the laws of the realm
were assigned by the king's commission to every
circuit, and to ride tvi^ice a year through those
shires allotted to that circuit, making proclama-
tion beforehand, a convenient time in every
county, of the time of their coming, and place of
their sitting, to the end the people might attend
them in every county of that circuit.
They were to stay three or four days in every
county, and in that time all the causes of that
county were brought before them by the parties
grieved, and all the prisoners of the said gaol in
every shire, and whatsoever controversies arising
concerning life, lands, or goods.
The authority of these judges in
The authority . . ^ / 1,1, . %
translated by eyre IS lu part translated oy act ot par-
jusiicS^of a^- liament to justices of assize, which be
now the judges of circuits, and they do
use the same course that justices in eyre did, to
proclaim their coming every half year, and the
place of their sitting.
The authority The busiqcss of tlio justiccs in eyre,
of a'.srJ"S ^"d of the justices of assize at this day
J^'ri^f^com! is much lessened, for that, in Henry
^Mted k'k 3. the Third's time, there was erected the
time. Court of Common Pleas at Westmin-
ster, in which court have been ever since, and yet
are begun and handled the great suits of lands,
debts, benefices, and contracts, fines for assurance
* 1. Kind's Bench. 2. Marshal's Court. 3. County Court.
4. Sheriff's Tourns. 5. Hundred Leets and Law-days. All
which dealt only in crown matters; but the Justice in eyre
dealt in private titles of lands or goods, and in all treasons
and felonies, of whom there were twelve in number, the
whole realm being divided into six circui.s. England divided
into six circuits, and two learned men in the laws, assigned
by the king's commission to ride twice a year through those
shires allotted to that circuit, for their trial of private titles to
lands and goods, and all treasons and felonies, which the
county courts meddle not in.
of lands and recoveries, which were wont to be
either in the King's Bench, or else before the
justices in eyre. But the statute of Mag. Char,
cup. 1 1 . 5. is negative against it, viz. Cornniunia
placita non sequantur curiam nostrain,
std teneantur in allquo loco Certo ; asfiM h!«v"»t
which locus Certus must be the Com- cnnmmMonrby
■ni . ,1 . 1 n • • which they sit.
mon rleas; yet tlie judges of circuits
have now five commissions by which they sit.
The first is acoirimission of over and
J. 1 ^ ,, I I. Over & term
terminer, directed unto them, and many 2. caideii.
others of the best account, in their S'a.iii'ze«°
... , . . . 1 4. To take Nil-
Circuits; but in this commission the Prius. 5. ot
judges of assize are of the quorum, so ' " ''^"'
as without them there can be no proceeding.
This commission giveth them power
1 1 -.u ^ 1 1 11 OvcrandTer.
to deal with treasons, murders, and ail miner, in which
manner of felonies and misdemeanors of the quorum,
whatsoever; and this is the largest laV^t commi*
, . , , »ion they have
connnission that they have.
The second is a commission of gaol delivery ;
that is, only to the judges themselves, and the
clerk of the assize associate : and by this com-
mission they are to deal with every prisoner in
the gaol, for what offence soever he be there ; and
to proceed with him according to the laws of the
realm, and the quality of his offence: r.aoi delivery
and they cannot, by this commission, foludsesTh™.
do any thing concerning any man but cierk"of"the 'ISJ
those that are prisoners in the gaol. "^^•
The course now in use of execution of this com-
mission of gaol delivery is this. There is no pri-
soner but is committed by some justice of peace,
who, before he committed him, took his exami-
nation, and bound his accusers and witnesses to
appear and prosecute at the gaol delivery. This
justice doth certify these examinations and bonds,
and thereupon the accuser is called solemnly into
the court, and when he appeareth he is willed to
prepare a bill of indictment against the prisoner,
and go with it to the grand jury, and give evi-
dence upon their oaths, he and the witnesses,
which he doth ; and then the grand jury write
thereupon either billa vera, and then the prisoner
standeth indicted, or else i^rnoramus, and then he
is not touched. The grand iury deliver
these bills to the judges in their court.
; proceed in
the Rustic
and so many as they find endorsed
hilla vera, they send for those prisoners,
then is every man's indictment put and read to
him, and they ask him whether he be guilty or
not. If he saith guilty, his confession Theconmenow
is recorded ; if he say not guilty, then ■" ,"^. "fo/' ul
he is asked how he will be tried; he "mni'i'^s'i'on^ 'o*
answereth, by the country. Then the «>"' ""'ivery.
sheriff is commanded to return the names o(
twelve freeholders to the court, which freeholders
be sworn to make true delivery between the kiny
and the prisoner, and then the indictment is again
read, and the witnesses sworn to speak their
knowledge concerning the fact, and the prisoner
252
THE USE OF THE LAW.
is heard at large what defence he can make, and
then the jury go together and consult. And after
a while they come in with a verdict of guilty or
not guilly, which verdict the judges do record
accordingly. If any prisoner plead not guilty
upon the indictment, and yet will not put himself
to trial upon the jury (or stand mute), he shall be
pressed.
The judges, when many prisoners are in the
gaol, do in the end before they go peruse every
one. Those that were indicted by the grand jury,
and found not guilty by the select jury, they
judge to be quitted, and so deliver them out of
ihe gaol. Those that are found guilty by both
juries they judge to death, and command the
sheriff to see execution done. Those that refuse
trial by the country, or stand mute upon the in-
dictment, they judge to be pressed to death : some
whose offences are pilfering under twelvepence
value they judge to be whipped. Those that con-
fess their indictments, they judge to death, whip-
ping, or otherwise, as their offence requircth.
And those that are not indicted at all, but their
bill of indictment returned with ignoramus by the
grand jury, and all other in the gaol against whom
no bills at all are preferred, they do acquit by pro-
clamation out of the gaol. That one way or other
they rid the gaol of all the prisoners in it. But
because some prisoners have their books, and be
burned in the hand and so delivered, it is neces-
sary to show the reason thereof. This having
their books is called their clergy, which in an-
cient time began thus.
Bonk allowed ^^'o^ the scarclty of the clergy, in the
L'rpiifof"'"'* realm of England, to be disposed in
POTed in Kii'-'' religious houses, or for priests, dea-
gious houses, cons, and clerks of parishes, there was
a prerogative allowed to the clergy, that if any
man that could read as a clerk were to be con-
demned to death, the bishop of the diocess might,
if he would, claim him as a clerk, and he was to
see him tried in the face of the court.
Whether he could read or not, the book was
prepared and brought by the bishop, and the judge
was to turn to some place as he should think
meet, and if the prisoner could read, then the
bishop was to have him delivered over unto him
to dispose of in some places of the clergy, as he
should think meet. But if either the bishop
would not demand him, or that the prisoner could
not read, then was to be put to death.
concerninR 'he And this clcrgy was allowable in the
clergy to the ancient times and law, for all offences
BerTv allowed whatsoevcr they were, except treason
S«pt trelwn' aud robtjinnr of churches, their aroods
atiil robbinsc of , ^^ ,
churches, and and omameuts. But by many statutes
now tiken away , . , , . ,
by many statutes, made sincc, the clergy is taken away
'/. In burgiaiV. for murdcr, burorlarv, robbery, purse-
3 Robbery. . , ° i- i j- .u
4. i-uae-cut- cuttmg, horsc-stealing, and divers other
s>""Hone iteii. felonies particularized by the statutes
to the iudc-es : and lastly, by a statute my, and fe*
*' vers other of-
made 18 Elizabeth, the judijes them- fences lartku.
, ,, , l"i"^ in <*'"
selves are appointed to allow ciersry to rai statutes. By
' ' . the Stat, of 13
such as can read, being not such offend- eiiz. the judge*
I ers from whom clergy is taken away »iio'" ciergv,
, and to see them
by any statute, and to see them burned burned in the
•' ■^ hand, and to
in the hand, and so discharge them di!ch'ari;e the
without deliverinjj them to the bishop, ouui'di'v'erTilf
, ,■,,•, . Ill <'" '" 'o <he
howbeit the bishop appointeth the de- tishop.
puty to attend the judges with a book to try
whether they could read or not.
The third commission that the judges of cir-
cuits have, is a commission directed to themselves
only, and the clerk of assize to take assizes, by
which they are called justices of assize, and the
office of those justices is to do right upon writs
called assizes, brought before them by such as are
wrongfully thrust out of their lands. Of which
number of writs there was far greater store brought
before them in ancient times than now, for that
men's seisins and possessions are sooner reco-
vered by sealing leases upon the ground, and by
bringing an ejedione firme, and trying their title
so, than by the long suits of assizes.
The fourth commission is a commission to take
Nisi Frius directed to none but to the 4 c„n,„i„|„a
judges themselves and their clerks of ph^,,' ^^d m'i
assizes, by which they are called jus- j'^n'^"'^, and
tices of Nisi Frius. These Nisi Frius 1,^';,''"'' "^ """
happen in this sort, when a suit is be- '^'" ^''""•
gun for any matter in one of the three courts, the
King's Bench, Common Pleas, or the Exchequer
here above, and the parties in their pleadings do
vary in a point of fact; as for example, if an ac-
tion of debt upon obligation, the defendant denies
the obligation to be his debt, or in any action of
trespass grown for taking away goods, the de-
fendant denieth that he took them, or in an action
of the case for slanderous words, the defendant
denieth that he spake them, &c.
Then the plaintiff is to maintain and prove that
the obligation is the defendant's deed, that he
either took the goods, or spake the words ; upon
which denial and affirmation the law saith, that
issue is joined betwixt thqjn, which issue of the
fact is to be tried by a jury of twelve men of the
county where it is supposed by the plaintiff to be
done, and for that purpose the judges of the court
do award a writ of venire facias in the king's
name to the sheriff of that county, commanding
him to cause four and twenty discreet freeholders
of this county, at a certain day, to try this issue
so joined, out of which four and twenty only
twelve are chosen to serve. And that double
number is returned, because some may make de-
fault, and some be challenged upon kindred,
alliance, or partial dealing.
These four and twenty the sheriff doth name
and certify to the court, and withal that he hath
warned them to come at the day according to their
THE USE OF THE LAW.
253
The nanner of
proceeding A
justices o[ cii
judges hnlJ
Vie execution
writ. But, because at his first summons their
t'alleth no punishment upon the four and twenty
if they come not, they very seldom or never ap])ear
upon the first writ, and upon their de-
fault there is anotlier writ* returned to
the slierifF, conimandinir liim to distrain
them by their lands to appear at a cer-
tain day appointed by the writ, which
mi«ion'con""" is the next term after, iV^m Prius justi-
^ngVnlii ciarii nostri ad assizas cnpiendas vene-
P""* rint, &c. of which words the writ is
called a nisi prius, and the judg^es of the circuit
of that county in that vacation and mean time
before the day of appearance appointed for the jury
above, here by tlieir commission of Nisi Prius
have authority to take the appearance of the jury
in the county before them, and there to hear the
witnesses and proofs on both sides concerning-
the issue of fact, and to take the verdict of the
jury, and against the day they should have ap-
peared above, to return the verdict read in the
court above, which return is called a
Postea.
postea.
And upon this verdict clearing the matter in
fact, one way or other, the judges above give
judgment for the party for whom the verdict is
found, and for such damages and costs as the jury
do assess.
By those trials called Nisi Prius, the juries and
the parties are eased much of the charge they
should be put to, by coming to London with their
svidences and witnesses, and the courts of West-
minster are eased of much trouble they should
have if all the juries for trials should appear and
try their causes in those courts; for those courts
above have little leisure now ; though the juries
come not up, yet in matters of great weight, or
where the title is intricate or difficult, the judges
above upon information to them, do retain those
causes to be tried there, and the juries do at this
day in such causes come to the bar at Westminster.
The fifth commission that the iudsfes
6. Commission . . . . . .1
is a cr.mtiHssion In thcir cucuits do Sit by, is the com-
of tlie peace. • • i- ^1 •
mission 01 the peace in every county
of their circuit. And all the justices of the peace,
having no lawful impediment, are bound to be
present at the assizes to attend the judges, as oc-
casion shall call out; if any make default, the
The justice, of ju<lges may Set a fine upon him at their
th!£'iffa'reto plcasurc and discretions. Also the
ailend the
judges in t1
sheriff in every shire through the cir-
cuit is to attend in person, or by a suf-
ficient deputy allowed by the judges, all that time
they be within the county, and the judges may
fine him if he fail, or for negligence or misbe-
haviour in his office before them; and the judges
above may also fine the sheriff for not returning
or not sufficient returning of writs before them.
• Distringas.
Properly in Lands is gotten and trangferrcd by one.
tu anulher, by these four manner (f ways ;
1. By Entry.
2. By Descent.
3. By Escheat.
4. Most usually by Conveyance.
1. Property by entry is, where a man *
findeth a piece of land that no other ianCI"o"e'^°
possesseth or hath title unto, and he ^""^ )'-"'t-
tliat so findeth it doth enter, this entry gaineth a
property; this law seemeth to be derived from
this text, terra dedit filiis hominuni, which is to
be understood, to those that will till and manure
it, and so make it yield fruit; and that is he that
entereth into it, where no man had it before.
But this manner of gaining lands was in the first
days, and is not now of use in England, for that
by the conquest all the land of this na-
y • , ^ , , , -All lan.fs in
tion was in the Conquerors hands, Knciandw.™
and appropriated unto him, except re- or's aniTi^ro-
1- • 11 111 1 1 r 1 priaied to him
ligious and church lands, and the lands uionthecon-
-, - 1-11 • - quest of Eng*
in Kent, which by composition were land, and held
left to the former owners, as the Con- i. Relisiol?''
queror found them, so that no man but lands. 2. The
.... . , , , , , lards of the
the bishoprieks, churches, and the men men of Kent.
r t^ , • 1 , LaiKl Itfi by th«
01 Kent, can at this day make any «ea teiongeih to
greater title than from the conquest to
any lands in England ; and lands possessed with-
out any such title are in the crown, and not in
him that first entereth ; as it is by land left by the
sea, this land belongelh to the king, and not to
him that hath the lands next adjoining, which
was the ancient sea banks. This is to be under-
stood of the inheritance of lands ; viz. that the
inheritance cannot be gained by the first entry.
But an estate for another man's life by out-laws
may, at this day, be gotten by entry. As a man
called A. having land conveyed unto him for the
life of B. dieth without making any estate of it
there, whosoever first entereth into the land after
the decease of A. getteth the property in the land
for time of the continuance of the estate which
was granted to A. for the life of B. wliich B. yet
liveth and therefore the said land cannot revert
till B. die. And to the heir of A. it ciinnot go,
for that it is not any state of inheritance, but only
an estate for another man's life; which is not de-
scendable to the heir, except he be specially
named in the grant: viz. to him and his heirs.
As for the executors of A. they cannot have it,
for it is not an estate testamentary, that it should
go to the executors as goods and chattels should,
so as in truth no man can entitle himself unto
those lands ; and therefore the law pnferreth him
that first entereth, and he is called occu-
pans, and shall hold it during the life '^''^""^
of B. but must pay the rent, perform tlie condi-
tions, and ds no waste. And he may by deed
assign it to whom he please in his life time.
But if he die before he assign it over, then t sliall
y
251
THE USE OF THE LAW.
go again to whomsoever first entereth and holdeth.
And so all the life of B. so often as it shall
happen.
Likewise if any man doth wrongfully enter
into another man's possession, and put the right
owner of the freehold and inheritance from it, he
thereby getteth the freehold and inheritance by
disseisin, and may hold it against all men, but
him that hath right, and his heirs, and is called a
disseisor. Or if any one die seised of lands, and
before his heir doth enter, one that hath no right
doth enter into the lands, and holdeth them from
the right heir, he is called an abator, and is
lawful owner against all men but the right heir.
And if such person abator, or disseisor (so as
the disseisor hath quiet possession five years next
after the disseisin) do continue their possession,
and die seised, and the land descend to his heir,
they have gained the right to the possession of
the land against him that hath right till he recover
it by fit action real at the common law. And if
it be not sued for at the common law within three-
score years after the disseisin, or abatement com-
mitted, the right owner hath lost his right by that
negligence. And if a man hath divers children,
and the elder, being a bastard, doth enter into the
land and enjoyeth it quietly during his life, and
dieth thereof so seised, his heirs shall hold the
land against all the lawful children and their
issues.
Property of lands by descent is.
Property of , i •' , , , , ^ . , .
umisbyde- whcre a man hath lands of inherit-
(ince, and dieth, not disposing of them,
hut leavin^; it to go (as the law casteth it) upon
'.he heir. This is called a descent of law, and
upon whom the descent is to light, is the ques-
tion. For which purpose the law of inheritance
preferreth the first child before all others, and
amongst children the male before the female, and
amongst males the first born. If there be no
children, then the brother ; if no brothers, then
sisters ; if neither brothers nor sisters, then uncles ;
and for lack of uncles, aunts ; if none of them,
then cousins in the nearest degree of consangui-
ofdescrnt, "i^Y' "^^^^ thcsc three rules of diversi-
solely inherit: but if itcometo females, then they,
being all in an equal degree of nearness, shall in-
herit altogether, and are called parceners, and all
they make but one heir to the ancestor. 2. That
Brother or sh- "" brother nor sister of the half-blood
!iToo"/Btaii''not shall inherit to his brother or sister, but
bro'hiror'suter, ^^ a child to his parents, as for ex-
ch,'i/tll'hi."pa* ^"ip'^ • If 3 ™3n have two wives, and
"""• by either wife a son, the eldest son
uverliving his father is to be preferred to the in-
*ieritance of the father, being fee-simple ; but if
he entereth and dieth without a child, the brother
shall not be his heir, because he is of the half-
lilood.to him, but the uncle of the eldest brother
or sister of the whole blood ; yet if the eldest bro-
ther had died, or had not entered in the lifeof tbi»
father, either by such entry or conveyance, then
the youngest brother should inherit the land thai
the father had, although it were a child by the
second wife, before any daughter by the first.
The third rule about descents. That land pur
chased so by the parly himself that dieth is to b(»
inherited; first, by the heirs of the father's oiae ;
then, if he have none of that part, by
the heirs of the mother's side. But
lands descended to him from his father or mother
are to go to tliat side only from which they came,
and not to the other side.
Those rules of descent mentioned before are to
be understood of fee simples, and not of entailed
lands, and those rules are restrained by some
particular customs of some particular cmtoms of cer-
places ; as, namely, the custom of **'" p'*"'-
Kent, that every male of equal degree of child-
hood, brotherhood, or kindred, shall inherit
equally, as daughters shall, being parceners ; and
in many borough towns of England, and the cus-
tom alloweth the youngest son to inherit, and so
the youngest daughter. The custom of Kent is
called gavelkind. The custom of boroughs, burgh
English.
And there is another note to be observed in fee-
simple inheritance, and that is, that every heir
having fee-simple land or inheritance, be it by
common law or by custom of either gavelkind or
burgh English, is chargeable so far forth as the
value thereof extendeth with the binding acts of
the ancestors from whom the inheritance de-
scendeth; and these acts are collateral encum-
brances, and the reason of this charge is, qui sentit
commodum, sentire debet et incommodum sive onus.
As for example, if a man bind himself Evervhcirhav-
and his heirs in an obligation, or do b"5,|a"by't'he
covenant by writing for him and his hlf^Sor,"'
heirs, or do grant an annuity for him 'f •>' ^e named,
and his heirs, or do make a warranty of land,
binding him and his heirs to warranty, in all
these cases the law chargeth the heir, after the
death of the ancestor, with this obligation, cove-
nant, annuity, and warranty, yet with these three
cautions : first, that the party must by special
name bind himself and his heirs, or covenant,
grant, and warrant for himself and his heirs,
otherwise the heir is not to be touched. Second-
ly, that some action must be brought ^^^ ,,4
against the heir whilst the land or other '''""''■
inheritance resteth in him unaliened away: for if
the ancestor die, and the heir, before an action
be brought against him upon those bonds, cove-
nants or warranties, do alien away the land, then
the heir is clean discharged of the burden, except
the land was by fraud conveyed away of purpose
to prevent the suit intended against him. Third-
ly, that no heir is further to be charged ^^„ ^^g
than the value of the land descended ^'°""'-
unto him from the same ancestor that made the
THE USE OF THE LAW.
255
•nstrument of chargre, anvl that land also not to be
-)»ytrepp-. S'''*' outright for the debt, but to be
""• kept in extent, and at a yearly value,
until the debt or damage be run out. Neverthe-
less if an heir that is sued upon such a debt of
his ancestor do not deal clearly with the court
when he is sued, that is, if he come not in imme-
diately, and by way of confession set down the
true quantity of his inheritance descended, and so
submit himself therefore, as the law requireth, then
that heir that otherwise demeaneth himself shall
be char<r<'d of his own lands or goods,
fnr'tiis false and of his money, for this deed of his
^"' ancestor. As for example; if a man
bind himself and his heirs in an obligation of one
hundred pounds, and dieth, leaving but ten acres
of land to his heir, if his heir be sued upon the
bond, and cometh in, and denieth that he hath
any lands by descent, and it is found against him
by the verdict that he hath ten acres, this heir
shall now be charged by his false plea of his ow^n
lands, goods, and body, to pay the hundred
pounds, although the ten acres be not worth ten
pounds.
Property of lands by escheat is where
lal^ilV"- the owner died seised of the lands in
possession without child or other heir,
thereby the land, for lack of other heir, is said to
escheat to the lord of whom it is holden. This
Two causes of
lack of heir happeneth principally in
two cases : first \vhere the lands' owner
2. Aiiaimier of Is 3. bastard. Secondly, where he is
treason, felony. • i f» /» i -n
attainted or lelony or treason, ror
neither can a bastard have any heir, except it be
his own child, nor a man attainted of treason,
although it be his own child.
Upon attainder of treason the king is
treis-nen- to havo the land, althouirh he.be not
litleihihe kins, ,,,^, ••,Vii
ih.u^h ia„ds the lord oi whom it is held, because it
of hii.i, ntiier- is a royal escheat. But for felony it is
dVrT.f'feinny, not SO, for there the king is not to have
the kine shall the Bschcat, except the land be holden
numdumet of him : and yet where the land is not
holden of him, the king is to have the
land for a year and a day next ensuing the judg-
ment of the attainder, with a liberty to commit
all manner of waste all that year in houses, gar-
dens, ponds, lands, and woods.
In these escheats two thinofs are espe-
In escheat two '^ . r
ihiMis are to be ciallvtobe obscrved : the one is the
observtd. 1. /■ i i i i • •
Thf tenure. 2. teuure of the lands, because it directeth
The manner of
the aiiainJer. the person to whom the escheat be-
Allhiiisare ' • i , i /^
hoijenoiihe lougeth, VIZ. tho lord of the manor of
aieiy or nielli- whom the land is holden. 2. The
inesneLd., mauuer of such attainder which draw-
the reason. i • i • i r~i
concernint the fith With itthc Bschcat. LonceminET
tenure of lands. /. i i . . i
the tenures of lands, it is to be under-
stood, that all lands are holden of the crown,
either mediately or immediately, and that the
escheat appertaineth to the immediate lord, and
not to the mediate. The reason why all land is
holden of the crown immediately, or by mesne
lords, is this.
The Conqueror got, by right of con- Theconque,«,
quest, all the land of the realm into his ^i;/,',f^o°lJr°
own hands, in demesne, taking from ?J^iI,",f„'oh,'I"
every man all estate, tenure, property, [;^ve'',"ht"m
and liberty of the same, (except re- IZZl'LZ""
in Kent,) and still as he gave any of *"''
it out of his own hand, he reserved some retribu-
tion of rents or services, or both, to him and to
his heirs, which reservation is that which is called
the tenure of land.
In which reservation he had four in- Thereserva.
stitutions, exceeding politic and suita- 'tX'eSe'.''
ble to the state of a conqueror. r".%hnia?eof
1. Seeing his people to be part Nor- !,','Vf,",'.l'e°'*''
mans, and part Saxons, the Normans IJ^",'^'"''
he brought with him, the Saxons he ?„"""'^^* ""^
found here, he bent himself to conjoin f^ifi'J'""
them by marriages in amity, and for ihiAlmquerw,
that puroose ordains, that if those of j|I„',''y*tm";,
his nobles, knights, and gentlemen to (™r'j'aracui"ri
whom he gave great rewards of lands '"r.'i"''e'If lu
should die, leaving their heir within n'*!l^'a!^'[l,.
age, a male within twenly-one, and a "'^'■'•
female within fonrteen years, and unmarried,
then the king should have the bestowing of such
heirs in marriage, in such a family,* and to such
persons as he should think meet ; which interest
of marriage went still employed, and doth at this
day in every tenure called knight's service.
The second w^as to the end iha". his geservation
people should still he conserved in war- sS;^,'„|'d"kl.'ep""'
like exercises, and able for his defence. ''nj'!J|.'„'|f"''"„'
When therefore he gave any good por- [vj|^,^','|'e'*jj-n^
tion of lands, that might make the par- "S','i(i'"s"a"[,aVt
ty of abilities or strength, he withal cln.'j' knights
reserved this service : that that party '^"'™
and his heirs having such lands, should keep a
horse of service continually, and serve upon him
himself when the king went to wars, or else,
having impediment to excuse his own person,
should find another to serve in his place; which
service of horse and man is a part of that tenure
called knight's service at this day.
But if the tenant himself be an infant, the king
is to hold this land himself until he come to full
age, finding him meat, drink, apparel, and other
necessaries, and finding a horse and a man with
the overplus to serve in the wars as the tenant
himself should do if he were at full age.
But if this inheritance descend upon a woman,
that cannot serve by her sex, then the king is not
to have the lands, she being of fourteen years of
age, because she is then able to have a husband
that may do the service in person.
The third institution, that upon every 3 i„.ti.utiono«
gift 0^ land the king reserved a vow ,v^J^,"n"h™'
* Tnterest of marriage goeth employed in evpry tenure ty
knight's service.
256
THE USE OF THE LAW.
tenmitaby ^^^ ^" ^^^^ t° '^i"^ ^^^^ party to his
TOw''unio"ioy° ^^ith and loyalty :* that vow was
JiiL'tomage'; Called homage, the oath fealty. Ho-
bil^ rath Vhis niage is to be done kneeling, holding
5!^*';J,eiffeai. ''^s hands between the knees of the
l" Homage. ^otA, Saying, in the French tongue, I
2. Fealty. bccome your man of life and limb, and
of earthly honour. Fealty is to take an oath, upon
•ft book, that he will be a faithful tenant to the
king, and do his service, and pay his rents accord-
ing to his tenure.
4. iMtitution 'l^he fourth institution was, that for
^L'oftiTe™^' recognizonf of the king's bounty by
u.'bc'p^Tby^' every heir succeeding his ancestor in
^!7^ho"Ts tliose knight's service lands, the king
?."one°ycaT's'''' should havG primer seism of the lands,
C?» called" which is one year's profit of the lands,
have possession of the land, and then to restore it
to the heir; which continueth at this day in use,
and is the very cause of suing livery, and that as
well where the heir hath been in ward as other-
wise.
These beforementioned be the rights of the
Knight'« sef. teuure called knight's service in capite,
I'ten^rri'pe" which is 33 much to Say, as tenure de
TetTa.^Ty persoTut rcgis, and capite being the
fve«.o"f;r'J chiefest part of the person, it is called
!li^Ve»e?y^"" ^ tenure in capite, or in chief. And it
Snl'ye^rwTu" '« also to be noted, that as this tenure
hlid^uwm Ve° i>^ capite by knight's service generally
Gmnj ser- ^^^ ^ great safety to the crown, so also
iTi'ty^Berjeanty. ^he conqueror instituted other tenures
in capite necessary to his estate ; as,
namely, he gave divers lands to be holden of him
by some special service about his person, or by
bearing some special office in his house, or in the
field, which have knight's service and more in
them, and these he called tenures by grand ser-
jeanty. Also he provided, upon the first gift of
lands, to i.ave revenues by continual service of
ploughing his land, repairing his houses, parks,
pales, castles, and the like. And sometimes to a
yearly provision of gloves, spurs, hawks, horses,
hounds, and the like; which kind of reservations
are called also tenures in chief, or in capite of the
king, b .t they are not by knight's service, because
they required no personal service, but such things
as the tenants may hire another to do, or provide
for his money. And this tenure is called a tenure
• Ai<l motipy to maHe the king's eldest son a knight, or to
irarry his eldest daughter, is likewise due to his majesty from
every one of his tenants in kniglit's service, that hold by a
whole fee, twenty shillings, and from every tenant insoccage
If his land be worth twenty pounds per annum, twenty shil-
lings, vide N. 3. fol. 82.
1 Escuage was likewise due unto the king from his tenant
by knight's service ; when his majesty made a voyage royal
10 war against another nation, those of his tenants that did
net attend him there for forty days, with horse and furniture
til for service, were to be assessed in a certain sum Wy ait of
parliament, to he paid unto his majesty ; which assessment
I" ''.ailed escuage.
by soccage in capite, the wora sutagium .^^ i„,,i,ati™
signifying the plough; howbeit, in this pl,^,^' ",',";
latter time, the service of ploughing the Sl„''™olJr""'
land is turned into money rent, and so "■""*•
of harvest works, for that the kings do not keep
their demesne in their own hands as they were
wont to do; yet what lands were dt aniiquo t/'imi-
nico curonx, it well appeareth in the records ot me
Exchequer, called the Book of Doomsday, And
the tenants by ancient demesne have many immu-
nities and privileges at this day, that in ancient
times were granted unto those tenants by the
crown, the particulars whereof are too long to set
down.
These tenures in capite, as well that by soccage
as the others by knight's service, have this pro-
perty, that the tenants cannot alien their lands
without licence of the king; if he do, the king is
to have a fine for the contempt, and may seize the
land, and retain it until the fine be paid. And
the reason is, because the king would have a
liberty in the choice of his tenant, so office of »iien«
that no man should presume to enter ''''°-
into those lands, and hold them (for which the
king was to have those special services a license of
done him) without the king's leave. ^'^^^"oMbs
This license and fine, as it is now di- i'hTi]ind''nfod°i
gested, is easy and of course. ratdy rau-d.
There is an office called the office of alienation,
where any man may have a license at Aid i sum of
a reasonable rate, that is, at the third reSa^coTd^''
part of one year's value of the land mo- j"o;,lo„'''o'f*'tb^e
derately rated. A tenant in cap. by '^"'''
knight's service or grand serjeanty, was restrained
by ancient statute, that he should not give nor
alien away more of his lands, than that with the
rest he might be able to do the service due to the
king ; and this is now out of use.
And*to this tenure by knight's ser- Everytenamby
vice in chief was incident, that the king j'J'elnlie'had^
amongst all those tenants proportion- <'^"s'>ier.
ably to his lands, to make his eldest son a knignt,
or to marry his eldest daughter.
And it is to be noted, that all those Tenanubyioc
that hold lands by the tenure of soc- musisiTehATre
cage in capite (although not by j;'2,'',Sd'™;
knight's service) cannot alien without forbJidyorUDd^
license ; and they are to sue livery,
and pay primer seisin, but not to be in ward for
body or land.
By example and resemblance of the
, . ", ... , . . . „ How manon
king s policy in these institutions of «ereatar.t
^ t^ ■> created.
tenures, the great men and gentlemen
of this realm did the like so near as they could :
as for example, when the king had Manors cnatrf
given to any of them two thousand f^ifaTron"!!?")!*
acres of land, this party purposing in ringljfi'e'n.
this place to make his dwelling, or, as |,'i"i^'.°Vma-
the old word is, his mansion house, or [|^or!" """*
THE USE OF THE LAW.
257
Relinfislive
punnd lo he
paid by every
!eiiant by
kiiinhl't servi(
his manor house, did devise how he might
make his land a complete habitation to supply
him w ith all manner of necessaries, and for that
purpose, he would give of the outtermost parts
of those two thousand acres one hundred or
KnisM'sser '■^^ liuiulrod acres, or more or less, as
KrvJd't.^'c'i.m- ^^ should think meet, to one of his most
nion perwn, ifQgty servants, with some reservation
of rent, to find a horse for the wars, and go with
hiin when he went with the king to the wars,
adding vow of homage, and the oath of fealty,
wardship, marriage, and relief. This relief is lo
pay five pounds for every knight's fee,
or after the rate for more or less at the
entrance of every heir ; which tenant,*
so created and placed, was and is to this
uv^' kmehi's ^^y called a tenant by knight's service,
fee descended. jj^J p^j J,y J^Jg ^^.^j pgrSOU, but of hls
manors; of these he might make as many as he
would. Then this lord would provide that the
land which he was to keep for his own use should
be ploughed, and his harvest brought home, his
house repaired, his park paled, and the
Soccaje tenr.re ... ,_ ,. ii-
re«r»edbyihe like: and lor that end lie would give
some lesser parcels to sundry others,
of twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty acres, reserving
the service of ploughing a certain quantity (or so
many days) of his land, and certain harvest
works or days in the harvest to labour, or to re-
pair the house, park, pale, or otherwise, or to
give him, for his provision, capons, hens, pepper,
commin, roses, gilliflowers, spurs, gloves, or the
like; or to pay him a certain rent, and to be
sworn to be his faithful tenant, which tenure was
called a soccage tenure, and is so to this day,
howbeit most of the plowing and harvest services
are turned into money rents.
The tenants in soccage at the death
Relief of tenant - t ,. i • i
in inccage, one ot cvcry tenant were to pay relief, winch
year's rent and •' . . , , ^ ■' . . .
BO wardship or was not as knicrht s service is, five
other profit _ . . .. r -r*
umn the dying pounds a knight s fee.j But it was,
and so is still, one year's rent of the
land, and no wardship or other profit to the lord.
The remainder of the two thousand acres he kept
to himself, which he used to manure by his bond-
men, and appointed them at the courts of his
manor how they should hold it, making an entry
of it into the roll of the remembrances of the acts
of his court, yet still in the lord's power to take
it away ; and therefore, they were called
VillenaRe or te- -^ ' .,, , ' •'
nure by --opy of tenauls at will, by copy ot court roll;
curt u,l. . ,11 , ,
being in truth bondmen at the begin-
ning, but having obtained freedom of their per-
sons, and gained a custom by use of occupying
thfMr lands, they now are called copyholders, and
are so privileged that the lord cannot put them
* Knight's srrviie tenure created by the lord is not a tenure
by knight's service of the person of the lord, but of his manor.
+ .\i(l iiir.ney and esciiage money is ikewise due unto the
lords of tl.eir tenants, vide N. 3. fol. 82 and 83.
Vol. hi.— 33
out, and all through custom. Some copyholders
are for lives, one, two, or three successively ;
and some inheritances from heir to heir by cus-
tom, and custom ruleth these estates whollj',
both for widow's estates, fines, harriots, forfeit-
ures, and all other things.
Manors being in this sort made at
the first, reason was that the lord of with the u»e'o«
the manor should hold a court, which
is no more than to assemble his tenants togethei
at a time by him to be appointed ; in which court
he was to be informed, by oath of iiis tenants, of
all such duties, rents, reliefs, wardships, copy-
holds, or the like, that had happened unto him,
which information is called a presentment, and
then his bailiff to seize and distrain for those
duties, if they were denied or wilhholden, which
is called a court baron : and herein a man may
sue for any debt or trespass under forty pounds
value, and the freeholders are to iudge
^ . r 1 1 Suit to the court
01 the cause upon prooi produced upon oftheiord inci-
both sides. And therefore the free*- m^re of the fre»
,11 /» 1 • * 1 holders.
holders ot these manors, as incident to
their tenures, do hold by suit of court, which is
to come to the court, and there to judge between
party and party in those petty actions ; and also
to inform the lord of duties, of rents, and services
unpaid to him from his tenants. By this course
it is discerned who be the lords of lands, such as
if the tenants die without heir, or be attainted of
felony or treason, shall have the land by escheat.
Now concerninir what attainders
What attain-
shall give the escheat to the land, it is dersshaii dve
, , , . . , 1 1 'h^ escheat to
to be noted, that it must either be by the lord. At-
judgment of death given in some court judgment '2.
of record, against the felon found guilty confession. 3.
by verdict, or confession of the felony, give the iand»
■' . , , , - , . ■" to the lord.
or It must be by outlawry 01 him.
The outlawry groweth in this sort: ofanaHaind*
a man is indicted for felony, being not ''y''""*'"^-
in hold, so as he cannot be brought in person In
appear, and to be tried, insomuch that process of
capias is therefore awarded to the sheriff, who not
finding him, returneth non est inventus in Balliva
mea ,- and thereupon another capias is awarded to
the sheriff, who likewise, not finding him, maketh
the same return; then a writ called an exigent is
directed to the sheriff, commanding him to pro-
claim him in his county court, five several court
days, to yield his body, which if the sheriff do,
and the party yield not his body, he is said i)y the
default to be outlawed, the coroners there adjudg-
ing him outlawed, and the sheriff making the re-
turn of the proclamations and of the judgment of
the coroners upon the back side of the writ. This
is an attainder of felony, whereupon the offender
doth forfeit his lands, by an escheat, to the lord
of whom they are holden.
But note, that a man found guilty of p„,„rfe^
felony by verdict or confession, and "■
y2
258
THE USE OF THE LAW,
He that stsnd-
elti mule for-
feitelh no lands,
Flying for fe-
lony a forfeit*
ure of goods.
praying- his clergy, and thereupon reading as a
clerlt, and so burnt in the hand and discharged, is
not attainted, because he, by his clergy, prevent-
eth the judgment of death, and is called a clerk
convict who loseth not his lands, but all his
goods, chattels, leases and debts.
So a man indicted, that will not an-
swer, nor put himself upon trial, al-
excf pt "0° t^^*" though he be by this to have judgment
""'■ of pressing to death, yet he doth for-
feit no lands, but goods, chattels, leases, and
debts, except his offence be treason, and then he
forfeiteth his lands to the crown.
Heitatkiiieth So a man that killeth himself shall
Sui'ws'^^''''' "°* ^°^^ h^^ lands, but his goods, chat-
chaiteis. ^gjg^ leases, and debts. So of those
that kill others in their own defence, or by mis-
fortune.
A man that being pursued for felony,
and flieth for it, loseth his goods for
his flying, although he return and is
tried, and 'found not guilty of the fact.
So a man indicted of felony, if he
hi!b<i/u%n yield not his body to the sheriff until
the exi?f'nt f{)r ^ , • . n i , • •
felony forfeiteth after the exigent of proclamation is
"^°°'' awarded against him, this man doth
forfeit all his goods for his long stay, although he
be found not guilty of the felony; but none is
attainted to lose his lands, but only such as have
judgments of death, by trial upon verdict, or their
own confession, or that they be by judgment of
the coroners outlawed as before.
Landj entailed Bcsides the escheats of lands to the
Sns'forViT- lords of whom they be holden for lack
"'"• of heirs, by attainder for felony (which
only do hold place in fee-simple lands,) there are
also forfeiture of lands to the crown by attainder
of treason ; as namely, if one that hath
Stat. 26 H. 8. .,111 • , r
entailed lands commit treason, he for-
feiteth the profits of the lands for his life to the
crown, but not to the lord.
Tenant for life ^'^^ ^^ ^ man, having an estate for
tre"8onorfe- 1^^^ o^ himself or of anothcr, commit
bTnorachVauo trcason or felony, the whole estate is
the lord. forfeited to the crown, but no escheat
to the lord.
But a copyhold for fee-simple, or for life, is
forfeited to the lord and not to the crown ; and if
it be entailed, the lord is to have it during the
life of the offender only, and then his heir is to
have it.
The custom of Kent is, that gavelkind land is
not forfeitable nor escheatable for felony, for they
have an old saying; the father to the bough, and
the son to the plough.
The wife loseth If thc husbaud was attainted, the wife
wiiKding'' '"'3S to lose her thirds in cases of felony
SuinT^'of ^ ^"d treason, but yet she is no offender ;
felony. ^j^^ gj. tjjjg ^^y^ jj jg holdeu by statute
law that she loseth them not for the husband's
*elony. The relation of these forfeits are these.
for the forfei*
ture f'f goods
and chattels.
1. That men attainted* of felony or
treason, by verdict or confession, do lonyor-ieLwn
forfeit all the lands they had at the time f^ion, oVo^""
of their ofTence committed, and the aiiiheVhad
king or the lord, whosoever of them of"iheoffeic«
hath the escheat or forfeiture, shall
come in and avoid all leases, statutes, or convey-
ances done by the offender, at any time since the
offence done. And so is the law clear also if a
man be attainted for treason by outlawry ; but
upon attainder of felony by outlawry it hath been
much doubted by the law books whether the
lord's title by escheat shall relate back to the
time of the offence done, or only to the date or
test of the writ of exigent for proclaina- ^„j ^ ,, ,,
tion, whereupon he is outlawed; how- SJ,'r'"f„ui'"jl!"j;_
belt at this day it is ruled, that it shall "X'tfaiLder
reach back to the time of his f;ict, but feU"?k^Mdo°ut
for goods, chattels, and debts, the Ihei^^'ation
king's title shall look no further back
than to those goods, the party attainted
by verdict or confession had at the time of the
verdict and confession given or made, and in out-
lawries at the time of the exigent, as well in trea-
sons as felonies: wherein it is to be observed,
that upon the parties first apprehension, Tj,e kjng-, om-
the king's officers are to seize all the apprXmionoi
goods and chattels, and preserve them 5eize™i5gm,ds
together, dispending only so much out »"'* ^^hatieis.
of them as is fit for the sustentation of the person
in prison, without any wasting, or disposing them
until conviction, and then the property of them is
in the crown, and not before.
It is also to be noted, that persons i^int'eTmay'
attainted of felony or treason have no Swifbe'm'ibL'*
capacity in them to take, obtain, or ^'"s'^"^
purchase, save only to the use of the king, until
the party be pardoned. Yet the party giveth not
back his lands or goods without a spe-
- ". . , • , Therecanbeno
cial patent of restitution, which can- r,sti!utionin
- bl(X)d without
not restore the blood without an act ot actof pariia-
<-, . ^ , nienl, hut a
parliament. So it a man have a son, pardon enabieth
and then is attainted of felony or trea- chase, and the
son, and pardoned, and purchaseth after shaiiinhe-
, , , , . , rit those lands
lands, and then hath issue another son,
and dieth, the son he had before he had his par-
don, although he be his eldest son,^and the patent
have the words of restitution to his lands, shall
not inherit, but his second son shall inherit them,
and not the first; because the blood is corrupted
by the attainder, and cannot be restored by patent
alone, but by act of parliament. And if a man
have two sons, and the eldest is attainted in the
life of his father, and dieth without issue, the
father living, the second son shall inherit the
father's lands; but if the eldest son have any
issue, though he die in the life of his father, then
neither the second son, nor the issue of the eldest,
shall inherit the father's lands, but the father
•Of the relation nf attainders, as to the forfeiture of landf
and goods with the diversity.
THE USE OF THE LAW.
359
•hall there be accounted to die without heir, and
the land shall escheat, whether the eldest son
have issue or not afterward or before, though he
be pardoned after the death of his father.
tProperty of lands by conveyance is first distributed
into estates fur years, for Ife, in tail, and fee-
simple.
»io rtof These estates are created byword,
ail 1 by con- ^y vvritingr, Or by record. For estates
»eyance divided J n' J
in'Iie!' '^'"*"' 0^ years, which are commonly called
3 For'iife. leascs for years, they are thus made ;
4. Foryein. -wrhere the owner of the land agreeth
with the other by word of mouth, that the other
shall have, hold, and enjoy the land, to take the
profits thereof for a time certain of years, months,
weeks, or days, agreed between them, and this is
Leases foryears <^'illed a Icase parol ; such a lease may
IxecuSrs'and"^ ^^ madc by writing pole, or indented
not to the heirs, of dcvisp, grant, and to farm let, and so
also by fine of record ; but whether any rent be
reserved or no, it is not material. Unto these
Leases are tobe If^^scs thcrc may be anncxed such ex-
ui'nder.'' ''^ *'' ceptions, conditions, and covenants, as
2. Feio^!""' ^^^^ parties can agree on. They are
5. For flyini?.
or m u"e' OT™'' cutors aud administrators, and be sale-
tri'^j'bXe ^^^^ fo"* debts in the life of the owner,
r'Rvlmvic 01^ i" ^■he executors' or administrators'
'.i"rceny^' '"'"'' h^n^ls by wrlts of execution' upon
von?rihesVa statutes, rccoguisances, judgments of
without license. Jebts or damages. They be also for-
feitable to the crown by outlawry, by attainder
for treason, felony, orpremunire, killing himself,
flying for felony, although not guilty of the fact,
standing out or refusing to be tried by the coun-
try, by conviction of felony, by verdict without
judgment, petty larceny, or going beyond the sea
without license.
Extents upon They are forfeitable to the crown, in
ro*'rehant%ie- ^i^e manner as leases for years, or
ff'i.f^v'ami''' interest gotten in other men's lands,
S'and'for?' by extending for debt upon judgment
Mme*'manner i" ^"Y court of record, Stat, merchant,
vllrTaVe.''"^ Stat. Staple, recogulsances ; which be-
ing upon statutes are called tenants by
Stat, merchant, or staple, the other tenants by
elegit, and by wardship of body and lands, for
all these are called chattels real, and go to the
executors and administrators, and not to the heirs,
and are saleable and forfeitable as leases for
years are.
i^aseforiifeis Leases for lives are also called free-
felony or pre-
thento'7he"kin?, seisin* given at the making of the lease,
?o"ni byMch'e^t; whom WB Call the lessor, who cometh
?e"i?Ji'by"a"ny''oi ^o the door, back side, or garden, if it
* What liverv of seisin is, and how it is requisite to every
estate for life.
be a house, if not, then to some part of the meam he.
the land, and there he expresseth, that o"TeaKt'io'/
he doth grant unto the taker, called the ''**"'
lessee, for term of his life : and in seisin thereof,
he delivereth to him a turf, twig, or ring of the
door; and if the lease be by writing, then com-
monly there is a note written on the back side of
the lease,* with the names of those witnesses
who were present at the time of the livery of
seisin made. This estate is not sale-
able by the sheriff for debt, but the land nottot^''s<!id
is to be extended for a yearly value, to fo''r drbt b"' ex-
satisfy the debt. It is not forfeitable """"" ''"'"''■
by outlawry, except in cases of felony, nor by
any of the means before mentioned, of leases for
years; saving in an attainder for, and felony,
treason, premunire, and then only to the crown,
not to the lords by escheat.
And though a nobleman or other
have liberty, by charter, to have all haih bona feion.
felon's goods, yet a tenant holding for smi noiTave
term of life, being attainted of felony, le^^rMfe
doth forfeit unto the king, and not to
this nobleman.
If a man have an estate in lands for another
man's life, and dieth, this land cannot
go to his heir, nor to his executors, but
to the party that first entereth, and he is called
an occupant as before hath been declared.
A lease for years, or for life, may be or estate tails,
made also by fine of record, or bargain anestalenay
and sale, or covenant, to stand seised '"' '"""«'•
upon good considerations of marriage, or blood,
the reasons whereof are hereafter expressed.
Entails of lands are created by a gift, with
livery and seisin to a man, and to the heirs of his
body; this word (body) making the entail may
be demonstrated and restrained to the males or
females, heirs of their two bodies, or of the body
of either of them, or of the body of the grandfathei
or father.
Entails of lands began by a statute
made in Edward the First's time, by
which also they are so much strength-
ened, as that the tenant in tail could not
put away the land from the heir by any
act of conveyance or attainder, nor let
it, nor encumber it, longer than his own life.
But the inconvenience thereof was Theere»tm
great, for, by that means, the land fh^^^JI^u^"
being so sure tied upon the heir, as that "'""'f-
his father could not put it from him, it made the
son to be disobedient, negligent, and wasteful,
often marrying without the father's consent, and
to grow insolent in vice, knowing that there could
be no check of disinheriting him. It also made
the owners of the land less fearful to cnmniil
murders, felonies, treasons, and manslaughters,
for that they knew none of these acts could hurt
* Endorsement of livery upon the back of the deed and w it
nesB of it.
Bv the Stat, of
West. I. made
in Ed. I. time.
strenethened
that they wer«
not forfeitable
260
THE USE OF THE LAW
the heir of his inheritance. It hindered men that
had entaik'd lands, that they could not make the
best of their lands hy fine and improvement, for
that none upon so uncertain an estate, as for term
of his own life, would give him a fine of any
value, nor lay any great stock upon the land that
might yield rent improved.
riie prejuJice Lastly, those entails did defraud the
-dveyTireraiy. crown and many subjects of their debts ;
for that the land was not liable longer
than his own lifetime, which caused that the
king could not safely commit any office of account
to such, whose lands were entailed, nor other men
trust them with loan of money.
These inconveniences were all remedied by
Thesut 4H.7. ^^^^ "^ Parliament ; as namely, by acts
bM Mut«\'ii ^^ Parliament later than the acts of
b/fine.' entails, made 4 H. VH. 32 H. VIII.
A tenant in tail may disinherit his son by a fine
with proclamation, and may, by that means also,
make it subject to his debts and sales.
2gjj 8 By a statute made, 26 H. VIII. a
tenant in tail doth forfeit his lands for
82 H. 8.
33 H. 8.
I3*39Eliz.
pnvil(
1. No
2. Not eitend-
ment, 32 H. VIII. he may make leases
good against his heir for twenty-one
years, or three lives; so that it be not
of his chief houses, lands, or demesne.
!iand"fronr'' lescrved than the tenants have paid
i'fhrdo"tn'for. most part of twenty-one years before,
tall ''I'a'Thar' "or having any manner of discharge for
m^'tMier.''^ doing wastes and spoils : by a statute
made 33 H. VIII. tenants of entailed
lands are liaKle to the king's debts by extent, and
hy a statute made 13 and 39 Eliz. they are sale-
able for the arrearages upon his account for his
office. So that now it resteth, that entailed lands
have two privileges only, which be these. First,
not to be forfeited for felonies. Secondly, not to
be extended for .debts after the parties' death,
except the entails be cut off by fine and recovery.
Of the new de- ^"* ^^ '^^ ^^ ^^ uoted, that since these
riroeruit^,* notable statutes, and remedies provided
tail'witb^S- ''y statutes, do dock entails, there is
dition. j,j^jjj.j ^jp 5^ device called perpetuity,
which is an entail with an addition of a proviso
conditional, tied to his estate, not to put away the
land from his next heir; and if he do, to forfeit
his own estate. Which perpetuities, if they
should stand, would bring in all the former incon-
Vt;niences subject to entails, that were cut off by
the former mentioned statutes, and far greater :
for, by the perpetuity, if he that is in possession
start away never so little, as in making a lease, or
Belling a little qnillet, forgetting after two or three
descents, as often they do, how they
Thrtc perpetui-
are tied, the next heir must enter,
who, peradventure, is his son, his bro-
ihrr, uncle, or kinsman, and this raiselh
unkind suits, sttiing \\\ that kinored at jars,
some taking one part, some another, and the prin-
cipal parties wasting their time and money in
suits of law. So that in the end they
are both constrained by necessity to ni m™ "nhoM
join both in a sale of the land, or a •""'p""""*
great part of it, to pay their debts, occasioned
through their suits. And if the chiefest of the
family, for any good purpose of well seating him-
self, by selling that which lieth far off is to buy
that which is near, or for the advancement of his
daughters or younger sons should have reasonable
cause to sell, this perpetuity, if it should hold
good, restraineth him. And more than that, where
many are owners of inheritance of land, not en-
tailed may, during the minority of his eldest son,
appoint the profits to go to the advancement of the
younger sons and daughters, and pay debts; by
entails and perpetuities the owners of these lands
cannot do it, but they must suffer the whole to
descend to his eldest son, and so to come to the
crown by wardship all the time of his infancy.
Wherefore, seeing the dangerous Quaere whether
times and untowardly heirs, they might reg,'ra|^",7en"by
prevent those mischiefs of undoing "^ronrafi™"^
their houses by conveying the land from ^^"d'lhl und^.
such heirs, if they were not tied to the Ln^hrifir^sS
stake by those perpetuities, and re- "'''•
strained from forfeiting to the crown, and dispo-
sing it to their own or to their children's good :
therefore it is worthy of consideration, whether it
be better for the subject and sovereign to have
the lands secured to men's names and bloods by
perpetuities, with all the inconveniences above,
mentioned, or to be in hazard of undoing his
house by unthrifty posterity.
The last and greatest estate of lands Theiastand
is fee-simple, and beyond this there is i^u',^'i7fel!
none of the former for lives, years, or Tmvimaer
entails ; but beyond them is fee-simple. ""te^TuJ'Jn an
For it is the greatest, last, and utter- "i^p^j.""*
most degree of estates in land ; there-
fore he that maketh a lease for life, or a gift in
tail, may appoint a remainder when he mukelh
another for life or in tail, or to a third in fee-sim-
ple ; but after a fee-simple he can limit no other
estate. And if a man do not dispose of the fee-
simple by way of remainder, when he maketh the
gift in tail, or for lives, then the fee-simple resteth
in himself as a reversion. The differ- xhedifference
ence between a reversion and a remain- Jj'^-;.™" l,'^„
der is this: The remainder is always TZtnion
a succeeding estate, appointed upon the ^"byV^rd""''
gifts of a precedent estate, at the time
when the precedent is appointed. But the rever-
sion is an estate left in the giver, after a particu.
lar estate made by him for years, life, or entail ;
where the remainder is made with the particular
estates, then it must be done by deeds in w^riting,
with livery and seisin, and cannot be by words.
THE USE OF THE LAW.
261
Att«n..iriit -^"^ 'f ^^^ giver 'vill dispose of the
lii" <r.u!'of (he reversion after it reinainetli in himself,
rtvrrtion [,g jg j^ j^ jj |jy writing, and not by
word, and the tenant is to have notice of it, and
to alturn it, which is to give his assent by word,
or paying rent, or the like ; and except the tenant
will tiiiis atturn, the party to wlioni the reversion
is granted cannot have the reversion, neither can
The lenaoi no '^^ confipci him by any hiw to atturn,
to'Xrn but except the grant of the reversion be by
«Jon'i» fi"e; and then he may by writ pro-
ed byline. yjjgj f,,^ t[,.-jt purpose I and if he do not
purchase that writ, yet by the fine the reversion
shall pass ; and the tenant sliall pay no rent,
except he will himself, nor be punished for any
wastes in houses, woods, &c., unless it be granted
by bargriin and sale by indenture enrolled. These
fee-simple estates lie open to all perils of forfeit-
ures, extents, encumbrances, and sales.
Lands are conveyed by these six means : first,
»L»D<i:maybe ^Y feoffiueiit,* which is, whcrc by deed
nwuXof''" lands are given to one and his heirs,
T'lKfenffmBni. ^"^ Uvcry and seisin made according
3. By recovery, to the form and cftect of the deed ; if a
s. By "oveiiint. lesscr cstate than fee-simple be given,
6. By wM. jj^,i livery of seisin made, it is not
called a feoffment, except the fee-simple be con-
veyed, but is otherwise called a lease for life or
gift entail as abovementioned.
wh>t 1 fine is, -^ fi"^ is ^ ^^^^ agreement, beginning
m'y be coivey! ^-^us, Hxc csl finally coticordin, &c. This
ed hereby. jg douc bcforc the king's judges in the
Court of Common Pleas, concerning lands that
a man should have from another to him and his
heirs, or to him for his life, or to him and the heirs
males of his body, or for years certain, whereupon
rent may be reserved, but no condition or cove-
nants. This fine is a record of great credit, and
upon this fine are four proclamations made openly
in the Conmion Pleas; that is, in every term one
for four terms together: and if any man,
Five yenrs non , . . , , i i •
claim barreih having right to the Same, make not his
1. An inftint. claim Within five years after the procla-
s. MidmTn. ' mations ended, he loseth his right, for
4. Beyond sea. , . . ^
ever, except he be an infant, a woman
covert, a madman, or beyond the seas, and then
his right is saved; so that he claim within five
years after the death of her husband's full age,
recovery of his wits, or return from beyond the
Fine i. » feoff scas. Thls fine is called a feoffment
ment ,.f record, ^f rccord, bccausB that it includeth all
that the feoffment doth, and workelh further of his
own nature, and barreth entails peremptorily,
whether the heir doth claim within five years or
not, if he claim by him that levied the fine.
w'airwore- Recoverics are where, for assurances
rii-MTC. of lands, the parties do agree, that one
shall begin an action real against the other, as
though he had good right to the land, and the
other shall not enter into defence against it, but
allege that he bougrht the land of L H. who had
warranted unto him, and pray that L H. may l)e
called in to defend the title which L H. is one of
the cryers of the Common Pleas, and common
\ is called the common voucher. This "he"cIV"nonu
L H. shall appear and make as if he '°""-
I would defend it, but shall pray a day to be as-
j signed him in his matter of defence, which being
I granted him, at the day he maketh default, and
thereupon the court is to give judgment against
him, which cannot be for him to lose his lands,
because he hath it not, but the party that he hath
sold it to, hath that who v.ouched him to war-
rant it.
Therefore the demandant who hath ju^j^entfor
no defence made against it, must have "^'ill^nhr'te'*
judgment to have the land against him '"""'»'»"•
that he sued, (who is called the tenant,) and the
tenant is to have judgment against L H. to re-
cover in value so much land of his, j„j^^„,f„
where, in truth, he hath none, nor never J.^er'slTmuch
will. And by this device, grounded ijlemn.miu* "*
upon the strict principles of law, the ^"'^''or.
first tenant loseth the land, and hath nothing for
it; but it is by his own agreement, for assurance
to him that bought it.
This recovery barreth entails, and all a recovery i»r.
reinainders and reversions that should f;^*a"j^i'j''r^'
take place after the entails, saving i',7^d'n,e'ntt ""
where the king is giver of the entail, "'"euimn.
and keepeth the reversion to himself, then neither
the heir, nor the remainder, nor reversion is bar-
red by the recovery.
The reason why the heirs, remainders xhereisonwhy
and reversions are thus barred is be- teo"ur""ih'""
cause in strict law the recompense ad- lte"^,id reTer-""
judged against the cryer that was ''°'"-
vouchee, is to go in succession of estate as the
land should have done, and then it was not rea-
son to allow the heir the liberty to keep the land
itself and also to have recompense; and, there-
fore, he loseth the land, and is to trust to the re-
compense.
This sleight was first invented when
entails fell out to be so inconvenient as mnvenience.
is before declared, so that men made tail brought in
-^ . . , these recove-
no conscience to cut them oil if they ries, whichare
could find law for it. Andnowbyuse, monconvey-
those recoveries are become common surancesfor
., . , land.
assurances against entails, remainders,
and reversions, and are the greatest security pur-
chasers have for their moneys ; for a fine will bar
the heir in tail, and not the remainder, nor re-
version, but a common recovery will bar them all.
Upon feoffments and recoveries, the
' , , , , , . Uponfinr«.feo»
estate doth settle as the use and intent nients,and re-
of the parties is declared bv word or estate do'ih it
. . ^ . c I 1 . "« acci.rdin^ Iti
writing, before the act was done; As theintentof
I for example; they make a writing that " ""
I one of them shall levy a fine, make a feoffment,
I or suffer a common recovery to the other, but tho
! nse and intent is, that one should have it tor hia
262
THE USE OF THE LAW.
to stand seised
toa use, are all
grounded upon
life, and after his decease, a stranger to have it in
tail, and then a third in fee-simple. In this case
the land settleth in an estate according to the use
and intent declared. And that by reason of the
statute made 27 H. VHI. conveying the land in
possession to him that halh interest in the use,
or intent of the fine, feoffment, or recovery, ac-
cording to the use and intent of the parlies.
Bxr-aim, sales, Upon this Statute is likewise ground-
ed the fourth and fifth of the six con-
veyances, viz. bargains, sales, cove-
nants, to stand seised to uses ; for this
statute, wheresoever it findeth a use, conjoineth
the possession to it, and turneth it into like quali-
ty of estate, condition, rent, and the like as the
use hath.
The use is but the equity and honesty
What a use is. ^ , , , , , , . .•',., ...
to hold the \<\nainconscteniiauoni viri.
As for example; I and you agree that I. shall
give you money for your land, and you shall
make me assurance of it. I pay you the money,
but you made me no assurance of it. Here,
although the estate of the land be still in you,
yet the equity and honesty to have it is with me ;
and this equity is called the use, upon which I
had no remedy but in Chancery, until this statute
was made of 27 H. VHI. and now this
Before 27 H. 8. ... , • i i
there was no re- statutc conjoincth and coutaineth the
bli't in cTiaV"' land to him that hath the use. I for
"'''' my money paid to you have the land
itself, without any other conveyance from you,
and it is called a bargain and sale.
But the parliament that made that
The Stat, of 27 i • , ^ , • i i i
H. 8. doth not Statute did foresee that it would be
pass land upon . . , . i i i i i
the payment of mischievous that men s lands should
Td'eS imiented SO suddculy, upon the payment of a
little money, be conveyed from them,
peradventure in an alehouse or a tavern, upon
strainable advantages, did therefore gravely pro-
vide another act in the same parliament, that the
land, upon payment of this money, should not
pass away, except there were a writing indented
made between the said two parties, and
The Stat, of 27 , . , . . , • , • •
H 8. extendeth thc Said writuigalso within six months
and incorporate enrolled In some of the courts at West-
towns where . . , . 1 1 • i
they did use to miHStcr, or in the sessions rolls in the
shire where the land lieth, unless it be in
cities or corporate towns where they did use to
enrol deeds, and there the statute extendeth not.
The fifth conveyance of a fine is a
A conveyance i • i t
to stand seised convcyauce to Stand scised to uses. it
is in this sort; a man that hath a wife
and children, brethren, and kinsfolk, may by
writing under his hand and seal, agree
that for their or any of their preferment
he will stand seised of his lands to their
"ed^'and'The"'' "scs, either for life in tail or fee, so as
hnTthireup™ ^^ shall see cause; upon which agree- I
Miojted, by ment in writing there ariseth an equity
or honestji, that the land should go
avcortling to those sJgreements ; nature and reason
tipon an agree-
ment in writing
to stand seised
tniheuseof anv
irf his kind ret, a
child.orcous.r
or one he nteai
1 to Biarry.
allowing these provisions, which equity ami
honesty is the use. And the use being created ir
this sort, the statute of 27 H. VHI. beforemen
tioned, conveyeth the estate of the land, as the
use is appointed.
And so this covenant to stand seised j^ ovenant to
to uses is at this day, since the said sta- » u"^ ^^'^^,2*
tute, a conveyance of land, and with l"l''^l''^l^'
this difference from a bargain and sale; 3"fi,f»i,'2e1J
in that this needeth no enrolment as
bargain and sale doth, nor needeth it i
be in writing indented, as bargain and
sale must : and if the party to whose use he
agreeth to stand seised of the land, be not wife,
or child, cousin, or one that he meaneth to marry,
then will no use rise, and so no conveyance ; for
although the law alloweth such weighty consi-
derations of marriage and blood to raise uses, yet
doth it not admit so trifling considerations as of
acquaintance, schooling, services, or the like.
But where a man maketh an estate of his land
to others by fine, feoffment, or recovery, upon a tine, fe-
he may then appoint the use to whom cfv'llrv'ainan*'
he listeth, without respect of marriage, ",e*,^'whnm*
kindred, or other things; for in that Jj^t'Seri.*"
case his own will and declaration Ii™°y.''''Sltcr'
guideth the equity of the estate. It is l^^\Zli\"'
not so when he maketh no estate, but ""• '=<»'«''»'>••
agreeth to stand seised, nor when he hath taken
any thing, as in the cases of bargain, and sale,
and covenant, to stand to uses.
The last of the six conveyances is a
. , , . . . I • 1 c Of the continu"
Will in Wntmg, which course OI con- anceoflandby
veyance was first ordained by statute
made 32 H. VIII. before which statute no man
might give land by will, except it were in a bo-
rough town, where there was an especial custom
that men might give their lands by will; as in
London, and many other places.
The not giving of land by will was Thenotdis.
thought to be a defect at common law ; i;;^;:',^,ta''"'^
that men in wars, or suddenly falling iefecfltm^ *
sick, had not power to dispose of their ™'""«">'>»'-
lands, except they could make a feoffment, or levy
a fine, or suffer a recovery, which lack of time
would not permit; and for men to do it by these
means, when they could not undo it again, was
hard : besides, even to the last hour of death,
men's minds might alter upon further proofs of
their children or kindred, or increase of children
or debt, or defect of servants, or friends, to be
altered.
For which cause it was reason that ^.^^ ^„„^, ,^,
the law should permit him to reserve to ;;;f;;^7he"stat.
the last instant the disposing of his ^Jf po^e*7^
lands, and to give him means to dispose tm,'which'v«^
it, which seeing it did not fitly serve, p";,X'^
men used this device. JliSwth^
They conveyed their full estates of ir.bei'wi'ir
their lands, in their good health, to
friends in trust, properly called feoffees in truj
niE USE OF THE LAW.
263
and then they would, by their wills, declare how
thoir friends should dispose of their lands; and
if those friends would not perform it, the Court
of Chancery was to compel them, by reason of
the trust; and this trust was called the use of the
'and, so as the feoffees had the land, and the party
himself had the use ; which use was in equity, to
take the profits for himself, and that the feoffees
should make such an estate as he should appoint
them ; and if he appointed none, then the use
should go to the heir*, as the estate itself of the
land should have done ; for the use was to the
estate like a shadow foUowint^ the body.
By this course of putting lands into
The incoriveni- '' , '^ ' . °
dices of puitiug use, there were many inconveniences
(as this use which grew first for a rea-
sonable cause), viz. to give men power and liberty
to dispose of their own, was turned to deceive
many of their just and reasonable rights ; as,
namely, a man that had cause to sue for his land,
knew not against whom to bring his action, nor
who was owner of it. The wife was defrauded
of her thirds ; the husband of being tenant by
courtesy; the lord of his wardship, relief, heriot,
and esclieat ; the creditor of his extent for debt;
the poor tenant of his lease, for these rights and
duties were given by law from him that was
owner of the land, and none other, which was
now the feoffee of trust, and so the old owner,
which we call the feoffor, should take the profits,
and leave the power to dispose of the land at his
discretion to the feoffee, and yet he was not such
a tenant as to be seised of the land, so as his wife
could have dower, or the lands be extended for
his debts, or that he could forfeit it for felony or
treason, or that his heir could be ward for it, or
any duty of tenure fall to the lord by his death, or
that he could make any leases of it.
Thefrauisof Which frduds, by degrees of time, as
mebyderree" ^^J Incrcased, were remedied by di-
°ncre'«e.rwere ^^"^^ Statutes ; as, namely, by a statute
S'«1 i5f.'& ^f 1 H. VI. and 4 H. VIII. it was ap-
JlliiioVs. pointed that the action may be tried
against him which taketh the profits,
which was then ccstuy que use by a statute made
1 R. III. Leases and estates made by cestuy que
use are made good, and statutes by him acknow-
ledged. 4 H. VII. the heir o^ ccstuy que use is to
be in ward. 16 H. VIII. the lord is to have relief
upon the death of any cesfuy que use.
Which frauds nevertheless multiplying daily,
r H.8. bkin? i" *he end 27 H. VIII. the Parliament,
J^ucemiue' purposing to take away all those uses,
c'rni'formof"' ^^^ reduclug the law to the ancient
unrfeyfaiV'^ form of conveying of lands by public
"cove^""' "^ livery of seisin, fine, and recovery, did
ordain, that where lands were put in
trust or use, there the possession and estate should
be presently carried out of the friends in trust, and
settled and invested on him that bad the uses, for
Bi'ch term and time as he had the use.
By this statute of 27 H. VIIL the ,„„,h„„.^
power of disposing land by will is a^V.'U' g!v«!ii
clearly taken away amongst those ^'^*?^i^
frauds ; whereupon 32 H. VIIL another ^^ "'"•
statute was made, to give men power to give
lands by will in this sort. First, it must be by
will in writing. Secondly, he must be seised of
an estate in fee-simple ; for tenant for another
man's life, or term in tail, cannot give land by
will, by that statute, 32 H. VIIL he must be solely
seised, and not jointly with another;
and then being thus seised, for all the seised of capite
,,,,,,,. , lands and soc-
land he noldeth in soccage tenure, he Mje, he cannot
. , .,, , , , , devise but two
may give it by will, except he bold any i«rtsofihe
piece 01 land in capite, by knight s ser-
vice of the king; and then, laying all his lacks
together, he can give but two parts by will, for
the third part of the whole, as well in soccage as
in capite, must descend to the heir, to answer
wardship, livery, and primer seisin to the crown.
And so if he hold lands by knight's The third part
service of a subject, he can devise of {'he'heirto"^!"'.
the land but two parts, and the third Ji^ieJ^^'l^d^u
the lord by wardship, and the heir by ero^nl''*
descent, is to hold.
And if a man that hath three hcres a conveyance
of land holden in capite, bykright's pJiehnd'i'Jiih;
service, do make a jointure to his wife joln'ure.'o7to
of one, and convey another to any of his Jli'ir'i'ia^ur"'
children, or to friends, to take the pro- '"Jpi^r'^^nM
fits and to pay his debts, or legacies, or P"'.''y32H.s.
daughters' portions, then the third acre, or any
part thereof, he cannot give by will, but must
suffer it to descend to the heir, and that must
satisfy wardship.
Yet a man, having three acres as But a convey-
befire, may convey all to his wife or cuted'ini'he"^
children, by conveyance, in his life- jJa^tVoVsuch
time, as by feoffment, fine, recovery, us^Vnoi"void,
bargain, and sale, or covenant to stand pa',Vb^['|f,h,
seised to uses, and to disinherit the '»■''• '"•'"i""'"
heir. But if the heir be within age
when his father dieth, the king or other ^^'^•
lord shall have that heir in ward, and shall have
one of the three acres during the wardship, and to
sue livery and seisin. But at full age the heir
shall have no part of it, but it shall go according
to the conveyance made by the father.
It hath been debated how the thirds Entaiiej unu*
shall be set forth. For it is the use that fhTr/J""'
all lands which the father leaveth to i^l^^^STo
descend to the heir, being fee-simple, f^lHh-rJ^pi,rt
or in tail, must be part of the thirds ; ^n't^^ih*'
and if it be a full third, then the king, *>•="•
nor heir, nor lord, can intermeddle with the rest,
if it be not a full third, yet they must take it so
much as it is, and have a supply out of the rest.
This supply is to be taken thus ; if Themannerpj
it be the king's ward, then by a com- whel,"thf"J2ll'i'
mission out of the court of wards, j'/uii Ihirt!^ "'
whereupon a jury by oath must set
he shall
one of
I lobe i
264
"HE USE OF THE LAW.
forth so much as shall make up the thirds, except
the officers of the court of wards can otherwise
agree with the parlies. If there be no wardship
due to the king, then the other lord is to have this
supply by a commission out of the chancery, and
jury thereupon.
Th. ....„>«, But in all those cases the statutes do
pan
murtukefhat "either king nor lord can refuse it.
h'.ve a 'supply ^ud if it be not enough, yet they must
omof the rent. j^.^J^^g ^\^^^ -^^ p^j-f^ ^^^^J pj^jy J^^yg ^ gjjp_
ply in manner as before is mentioned out of the
rest.
Property in goods,
. By gift.
Of the several ways
whereby a man may
get property in goods i
or chattels.
2. By sale.
3. By stealing.
4. By waving.
5. By straying.
6. By shipwreck.
j 7. By forfeiture.
8. By executorship.
9. By administration.
10. By legacy.
I. Property by gift.
Adee<infgift ^y gift the property of goods may
ceive°his credit- ^6 passed by word or writing ; but if
Simrthem, there be a general deed of gift made of
a^iusUheeie- ^^^ ^Is gOods, thls Is SUSpicloUS tO be
'rato"?; *or"'ten- ^one upon fraud, to deceive the cre-
ii::dt ""'=' ditors.
And if a man who is in debt make a
deed of gift of all his goods to protract the taking
of them in execution for his debt, this deed of gift
is void, as against those to whom he stood in-
debted ; but as against himself, his own executors
or administrators, or any man to whom afterwards
he shall sell or convey them, it is good.
II. By sale.
What is a sale Property lu goods by Sale. By sale
whatS.when ^"y ™^" may convey his own goods to
l^a" rewrvation another : and although he may fear exe-
fte'^rt^el™" oution for debts, yet he may sell them
outright for money at any time before
the execution served, so that there be no reserva-
tion of trust between them; paying the money,
he shall have the goods again; for that trust, in
^uch case, doth prove pJ,ainly a fraud to prevent
the creditors from taking the goods in execution.
HI. By theft, or taking in jest.
How a sale in Property of goods by theft, or taking
JTbJrTo'ihe' "" ''" J®^** If any man steal my goods or
-.wow. chattels, or take them from me in jest,
m borrow them of me, or as a trespasser or felon
Of markets,
and what
markets such
carry them to the market or fair, and sell tfiem,
this sale doth bar me of the property of my goods,
saving that if he be a horse he must be ridden two
hours in the market or fair, between ten and five
o'clock, and tolled for in the toll book, and the
seller must bring one to avouch his sale, known
to the toll book keeper, or else the sale bindeth me
not. And for any other goods, where the sale in a
market or fair shall bar the owner, being not the
seller of his property, it must be sale in a market
or fair where usually things of that
nature are sold. As for example: if a
man steal a horse, and sell him in
Smithfield, the true owner is barred by
this sale; but if he sell the horse in Cheapside,
Newgate, or Westminster Market, the true owner
is not barred by this sale, because these markets
are usual for flesli, fish, &c., and not for horses.
So, whereas, by the custom of London, in
every shop there is a market all the days of the
week, saving Sundays and holidays. Yet if a
piece of plate or jewel that is lost, or chain of
gold or pearl that is stolen or borrowed, be sold
in a draper's or scrivener's shop, or any others
but a goldsmith, this sale barreth not the true
owner, et sic in similihus.
Yet by stealing alone of goods the Theowner^y
thief getteth not such property, but that afjer,hey^'
the owner may seize them again where- "°'™-
soever he findeth them ; except they were sold in
fair or market, after they were stolen, and that
bona fide without fraud.
But if the thief be condemned of the
felony, or outlawed for the same, or
outlawed in any personal action, or
have committed a forfeiture of goods to
the crown, then the true owner is with-
out remedy.
Nevertheless, if fresh after the goods
were stolen, the true owner maketh
pursuit after the thief and goods, and
taketh the goods with the thief, he
may take them again. And if he make
no fresh pursuit, yet if he prosecute
the felon so far as a justice requireth, that is, to
have him arraigned, indicted, and found guilty
(though he be not hanged, nor have judgment of
death,) or have him outlawed upon the indict-
ment; in all these cases he shall have his goods
again, by a writ of restitution to the party in
whose hands they are.
IV. By waving of goods.
By waving of goods a property is gotten thus.
A thief having stolen goods being pursued, flieth
away and leaveth the goods. This leaving is
called waving, and the property is in the king ;
except the lord of the manor have a right to it by
custom or charter.
But if the felon be indicted, adjudged, or found
guilty, or outlawed at the suit of the owner ot
If the thief be
condemned for
lawed,' or forfeit
the stolen goods
mcrty. But if
he make fresh
pursuit he may
take his goods
from the thief.
Or if he. prose-
cuted the lav/
against the thief
and convict him
of the same fe-
lony, he bhall
have his goods
THE USE OF THE LAW.
265
these goods, he shall have restitution of these
goods as before.
V. By straying.
13y straying property in live cattle is thus got-
ten. When they come into other men's grounds,
straying from the owners, then the party or lord
into whose grounds or manors they come causeth
them to he seized, and a withe put about their
necks, and to be cried in three markets adjoining,
showing the marks of the cattle; which done, if
the true owner claiineth them not within a year
and a day, then the property of them is in the
lord of the manor whereunto they did stray, if he
have all strays by custom or charter, else to the
king.
VI. Wreck, and when it shall be said to he.
By shipwreck property of goods is thus gotten.
When a ship laden is cast away upon the coasts,
so that no living creature that was in it when it
began to sink escapeth to land with life, then all
those goods are said to be wrecked, and they be-
long to the crown if they be found ; except the
lurdof the soil adjoining can entitle himself unto
them by custom, or by the king's charter.
VII. Forfeitures.
By forfeitures goods and chattels are thus got-
ten. If the owner be outlawed, if he be indicted
of felony or treason, or either confess it, or be
found guilty of it, or refuse to be tried by peers
or jury, or he attainted by judgment, or fly for
felony, although he be not guilty, or suffer the
exigent to go forth against him, although he be
not outlawed, or that he go over the seas without
license, all the goods he had at the judgment he
forfeiteth to the crown, except some lord by char-
ter can claim them. For in those cases prescripts
will not serve, except it be so ancient, that it
hath had allowance before the justices in eyre in
their circuits, or in the King's Bench in ancient
time.
VIII. By executorship.
By executorship goods are gotten. When a
man possessed of goods maketh his last will and
testament in writing, or word, and maketh one or
more executors thereof, these executors have by
the will and death of the parties all the property
of their goods, chattels, leases for years, ward-
ships, and extents, and all right concerning those
things.
Eicutor.m,y ThosB Bxecutors may meddle with
Siifp^/oTi'h^ the goods, and dispose them before
§?i^K''^"a™oa they prove the will, but they cannot
for my debt, bring an action for any debt or duty
before they have proved the will.
Vol. III.— 34
The proving of the will is thus. They
, ., • , .,, . ■ , • I , What prolate
aie to exhibit the will into the bishop s of the win it,
court, and there thev are to bringr the nwmeritu
111 I ""''«•
witnesses, and there they are to be
sworn, and the bishop's officers are to keep the
will original, and certify the copy thereof in
parciiment under the bishop's seal of office,
which parchment so sealed, is called the will
proved.
IX. By letters of administration.
By letters of administration property in goods
is thus gotten. When a man possessed of goods
dieth without any will, there such goods as the
executors should have had if he had made a will
were by ancient law to come to the bisliop of the
diocess, to dispose for the good of his soul that
died, he first payinof his funerals and
, , ,..'•'," , . Pii tmu.
debts, and giving the rest, ad pins usus.
This is now altered by statute laws, so as the
bishops are to grant letters of administration of the
goods at this day to the wife if she require it, or
children, or next of kin ; if they refuse it, as often
they do, because the debts are greater than the
estate will bear, then some creditor, or some other,
will take it as the bishop's officers shall think
meet. It groweth often in question what bishop
shall have the right of proving wills, and granting
administration of goods.
In which controversy the rule is vvherethein-
thus : That if the party dead had, at '^^'^tuta!!^.
the time of his death, bona notabilia in fhlnllrel^^
divers diocesses of some reasonable pi.'„''X"/whU
value, then the archbishop of the pro- eon!n7ii'tVe°ad.
vince where he died is to have the pro- "■i"'''"'''"'-
bate of his will, and to grant the administration
of his goods as the case falleth out; otherwise,
the bishop of the diocess where he died is to do it.
If there be but one executor made, EMcutormay
yet he may refuse the executorship f*^"i,tsh''„'p?i'rh,
coming before the bishop, so that he Ij^a't"^ i°,e"'
hath not intermeddled with any of the s""^"-
goods before, or with receiving debts, or paying
legacies.
And if there be more executors than
one, so many as list may refuse; and
if any one take it upon him, the rest
that did once refuse may when they ^"^3."""'""
will take it upon them, and no execu- ^; ^'"S'*'"'
tor shall be further charged with debts e^Hradwoi*.
or legacies than the value of the goods 7'^shop.book,
come to his hands. So that he foresee by'i^IlSr"''
that he pay debts upon record, first
debts to the king, then upon judgments, statutes,
recognizances, then debts by bond and bill sealed,
rent unpaid, servants' wages, payment to head
workmen, and, lastly, shop-books, and contracts
by word. For if an executor, or administrator
pay debts to others before to the king, or debts
due by bond before those due by record, or debts
Eiecutor ougbt
1. Jud^ents.
266
THE USE OF THE LAW.
by shop-books and contracts before those by bond,
arrearages of rent, and servants', or workmen's
wages, he shall pay the same over again to those
others in the said degrees.
Deb-, doe in ^"^ yet the law giveth them choice,
7^tdTtt!e"lxL '■hat where divers have debts due in
whicnTf'Ihein Gqual degree of record or specialty, he
iir,'"c'Si!r.'"'°™ ™<iy P^y which of them he will, before
nieaced. ^iiy suit brought against him; but if
suit be brought he must pay them that get judg-
ment against him.
Anyoneexecu- "^"7 ^nc executor may convey the
IiTuc'hYs all to goods, or release debts without his com-
jebrbe''re- '^ * pauion, and anyone by himself may do
K«wlini"in"he ^^ much as all together ; but one man's
dl^dars^!'^ releasing of debts or selling of goods,
shall not cliarge the other to pay so
much of the goods, if there be not enough to
pay debts; but it shall charge the party him-
self that did so release or convey,
otherwise of ^ut it is uot SO with administrators,
administrators, f^j jj^gy jj^yg j^^^ ^jjg authority given
them by the bishop over the goods, which author-
ity being given to many, is to be executed by all
of them joined together.
Executor dieth "^"^ ^^ ^^ exccutor die making an
citor"fhe'se""' Gxecutor, the secoud executor is exe-
Zil'beex«u'. cutor to the first testator.
tou'tor!" ^'^' ^"t if an administrator die intestate.
But othenvise, ^^^^ ^is administrator shall not beexe-
I'awrdie''''''' cutor or administrator to the fust. But
ci'oi"or1f"d' i" that case the bishop, whom we call
co'mmi«^"of''° the ordinary, is to commit the adminis-
his ?oods. tration of the first testator's goods to
his wife, or next of kin, as if he had died intes-
tate. Always provided, that that which the exe-
cutor did in his lifetime is to be allowed for good.
In both cases -A-id SO if an administrator die, and
ihaiicom'mt make his executor, the executor of the
of"he'r!oS'sTf administrator shall not be executor to
the^first iates. ^^^ gj.g^ ijjtestate ; but the ordinary must
new commit the administration of the
goods of the first intestate again.
If the executor or administrator pay E,ecutor.<
debts, or funerals, or legacies of his ^'"^,JJ^'*
own money, he may retain so much of
the goods in kind, of the testator or intestate, ar.
shall have property of it in kind.
X. Property by legacy.
Property by legacy is where a man Executor, or
maketh a will and executors, and giveth Ji^fy'Jl'ii^,'?'^
legacies, he or they to whom the lega- ^^„Tre""'
cies are given must have the assent of Joml^eb?,t2
the executors, or one of them, to have '"" ''8«i«*
his legacy, and the property of that lease, or other
goods bequeathed unto him, is said to be in him ;
but he may not enter nor take his legacy without
the assent of the executors, or one of them,
because the executors are charged to pay debts
before legacies. And if one of them assent to
pay legacies, he shall pay the value thereof of his
own purse if there be not otherwise sufficient to
pay debts.
But this is to be understood by debts legacies are to
of record to the king, or by bill and debJsb';^^""
bond sealed, or arrearages of rent, or se?i^ or'co"'''
servants' or workmen's wages; and •"'^"Wwcrd.
not debts of shop-books, or bills unsealed, or
contract by word ; for before them legacies are
to be paid.
And if the executors doubt that they E^ecntorna,
shall not have enough to pay every ^^^ "he'wiii"
legacy, they may pay which they list ^Jfx
first; but they may not sell any special Zt"L'*'l^Tc^
legacy which they will to pay debts, '<>wi<=bt'-
or a lease of goods to pay a money-legacy. But
they may sell any legacy which thej^ will to pay
debts, if they have not enough besides.
If a man make a will, and make no whenawiii i.
executors, or if the executors refuse, "jecu'io?' "°
the ordinary is to commit administra- nu'^^a't'ionlr'to
tion cum testamento annexo, and take •"= '•"'""'itted
' cum lesiamen'
bonds of the administrators to perform '" "«"«»■
the will, and he is to do it in such sort as the
executor should have done, if he had been naraed»
THE ARGUMENTS IN LAW
OF
SIR FRANCIS BACON, KNIGHT,
THE KING'S SOLICITOR-GENERAL,
IN CERTAIN GREAT AND DIFFICULT CASES.
TO MY LOVING FRIENDS AND FELLOWS,
READERS, ANCIENTS, UTTER-BARRISTERS, AND STUDENTS OF GRAY'S INN.
I DO not hold the law of England in so mean an account, but that which other laws are held
worthy of should be due likewise to our laws, as no less worthy for our state. Therefore, when I found
that, not only in the ancient times, but now at this day, in France, Italy, and other nations, the speeches,
and as they term them, pleadings, which have been made in judicial cases where the cases were micrhty
and famous, have been set down by those that made them, and published; so that not only Cicero,
a Demosthenes, or an ^schines hath set forth his orations, as well in the judicial as deliberative,
but a Marion and a Pavier have done the like by their pleadings; I know no reason why the same
should not be brouglit in use by the professors of our law, for their arguments in principal cases.
And this I think the more necessary, because the compendious form of reporting resolutions, with
the substance of the reasons lately used by Sir Edward Coke, Lord Chief Justice of the King's
IJench, doth not delineate or trace out to the young practisers of law a method and form of aro-ument
for thein to imitate. It is true, I could have wished some abler person had begun; but it is a kind
of order sometimes to begin with the meanest. Nevertheless, thus much I may say with modesty,
that these arguments which I have set forth, most of them are upon subjects not vulgar; and there-
withal, in regard of the commixture which the course of my life hath made of law with other studies,
they may have the more variety, and perhaps the more depth of reason: for the reasons of municipal
laws, severed from the grounds of nature, manners, and policy, are like wall flowers, which, though
they grow high upon the crests of states, yet they have no deep root: besides, in all public services
I ever valued my reputation more than my pains; and, therefore, in weighty causes I always used
extraordinary diligence ; in all which respects I persuade myself the reading of them will not be un-
profitable. This work I knew not to whom to dedicate rather than to the Society of Gray's Inn, the
place whence my father was called to the highest place of justice, and where myself have lived and
had my procedure so far as, by his majesty's rare, if not singular grace, to be of both his council?
and therefore few men so bound to their societies by obligation, both ancestral and personal, as I am
to yours, which I would gladly acknowledge, not only in having your name joined with mine own
in a book, but in any other good office and effect which the active part of my life and place may
enable me unto toward the society, or any of you in particular. And so I bid you right heartily
laiewell.
Your assured loving Friend and Fellow,
Francis Bacon
267
THE
CASE OF IMPEACHMENT OF WASTE.
ARGUED
BEFORE ALL THE JUDGES IN THE EXCHEQUER CHAMBEk.
The case needs neither repeating nor openinjj.
The point is, in substance, but one, familiar to be
put, but difficult to be resolved ; that is, Whether,
upon a lease without impeachment of waste, the
property of the timber trees, after severance, be
not in him that is owner of the inheritance 1
The case is of great weight, and the question
of great difficulty: weighty it must needs be, for
that it doth concern, or may concern all the lands
in England ; and diftcult it must be, because this
question sails in confluentiis aquarum, in the
meeting or strife of two great tides. For there is
a strong current of practice and opinion on the
one side, and there is a more strong current, as I
conceive, of authorities, both ancient and late, on
the other side. And, therefore, according to the
reverend custom of the realm, it is brought now
to this assembly; and it is high time the question
roceive an end, the law a rule, and men's con-
veyances a direction.
This doubt ariseth and resteth upon two things
to be considered ; first, to consider of the interest
and property of a timber tree, to whom it belong-
eth : and, secondly, to consider of the construc-
tion and operation of these words or clause, abs-
que impetitione vasti.- for within these two
branches will aptly fall whatsoever can be perti-
nently spoken in this question, without obscuring
the question by any other curious division.
For the first of these considerations, which is
the interest or property of a timber tree, I will
maintain and prove to your lordships three things.
First, That a timber tree, while it groweth, is
merely parcel of the inheritance, as well as the
soil itself.
And, secondly, I will prove, that when either
nature or accident, or the hand of man hath made
It transitory, and cut it off from the earth, it can-
not change the owner, but the property of it goes
where the inheritance was before. And thus
much by the rules of the common law.
And, thirdly, I will show that the statute of
<iloucester doth rather corroborate and confirm
the property in the lessor than alter it, or transfer
It to the lessee.
And for the second consideration, which is
the force of that clause, ahnque impetitione vasti, I
will also uphold and make good three other
absertions
First, That if that clause should be taken in
the sense which the other side would force upon
it, that it were a clause repugnant to the estate
and void.
iSecondly, That the sense which we conceive
and give is natural in respect of the words; and
for the matter agreeable to reason and the rules
of law.
And, lastly, That if the interpretation seem
ambiguous and doubtful, yet the very mischief
itself, and consideration of the commonwealth,
ought rather to incline your lordships' judgment
to our construction.
My first assertion therefore is, that a timber
tree is a solid parcel of the inheritance ; which
may seem a point admitted, and not worth the
labouring. But there is such a chain in this
case, as that which seemeth most plain, if it is
sharply looked into, doth invincibly draw on that
which is most doubtful. For if the tree be parcel
of the inlicritance unsevered, inherit in the rever-
sion, severance will not alien it, nor the clause
will not divest it.
To open, therefore, the nature of an inheritance ;
sense teacheth there be, of the soil and earth,
parts that are raised and eminent, as limber trees,
rocks, houses. There be parts that are sunk and
depressed, as mines, which are called by some
arbores siibterraneoE, because that as trees have
great branches and smaller boughs and twigs, so
have they in their region greater and smaller
veins; so if we had in England beds of porcelain,
such as they have in China, which porcelain is a
kind of a plaster buried in the earth, and by length
of time congealed and glazed into that fine sub-
stance, this were as an artificial mine, and no
doubt part of the inheritance. Then are the ordi-
nary parts, which make the mass of tiie earth, as
stone, gravel, loam, clay, and the like.
Now^, as I make all these much in one degree,
so there is none of them, not timber trees, not
quarries, not minerals nor fossils, but hath a
double nature; inheritable and real while it is
contained within the mass of the earth, and tran-
sitory and personal when it is once severed.
For even gold and precious stone, which is more
durable out of earth than any tree is upon the
earth, yet the law doth not hold of that dignity
as to be matter of inheritance if it be once sever-
268
CASE OF IMPEACHMENT OF WASTE.
269
between perpe-
•ifory.
Nevificaie ed. A 11(1 tliis is not bficause it be-
•TTmhtnuiicet couielli mov^ble, for there be iiiov-
Zc.li. """' Me inheritances, as villains in gross,
and dignities which are judged hereditaments;
but because by their severance they lose their
nalare of perpetuity, which is of the essence of
an inheritance.
And herein I do not a little admire
tb.J'irrwuh the wisdom of the laws of England,
di»ii"suisJ[in')! and the consent which they have with
the wisdom of philosophy and nature
itself: for it is a maxim in philosophy
that in regione elemenlari nihil est aslernum, nisi
per propugationem spcciei, aut per successionern
partium.
And it is most evident that the elements them-
selves, and their products, have a perpetuity not
in individuo, but by supply and succession of
parts. For example, the vestal fire that was
nourished by the virgins at Rome was not the
same fire still, but was in perpetual waste and
in perpetual renovation. So it is of the sea and
waters, it is not the same water individually, for
that exhales by the sun, and is fed again by the
showers. And so of the earth itself, and mines,
quarries, and whatsoever it containeth, they are
corruptible individually, and maintained only
by succession of parts, and that lasteth no longer
than they continue fixed to the main and mother
globe of the earth, and is destroyed by their
separation.
According to this I find the wisdom of the law,
by imitation of the course of nature, to judge of
inheritances and things transitory ; for it allow-
eth no portions of the earth, no stone, no gold, no
mineral, no tree, no mould to be longer inherit-
ance than they adhere to the mass, and so are
capable of supply in their parts ; for by their con-
ti nuance of body stands their continuance of time.
Neither is this matter of discourse, except the
deep and profound reasons of law, which ought
chiefly to be searched, shall be accounted dis-
course, as the slighter sort of wits, Scioli, may
esteem them.
And, therefore, now that we have opened the
nature of inheritable and transitory, let us see,
upon a division of estates, and before severance,
what kind of interests the law allotteth to the
owner of inheritance, and what to the particular
tenant, for they be competitors in this case.
The consent of First, In general the law doth assign
thecivii uw in ^^ the Icssor those parts of the soil con-
inj biit'wrt"' i^ joined, which have obtained the repu-
p^Hicuhr'^' tation to be durable, and of continu-
ance, and such as being destroyed are
not but by long time renewed ; and to
the terminors it assiorneth such inte-
tate«. which
ani u...,/,u=
;«t 0>vn^r ii
thoit.i.4H.7. rests as are tender and feeble against the
force of time, but have an annual or seasonable
return or revenue. And herein it consents again
with the wisdom of the civil law ; for our inhe-
ritance and particular estate is in eflfect their
dominium and usus-fructus ; for so it was con-
ceived upon the ancient statute of depopulations,
4 Hen. VII. which was penned, " that the owner
of the land should re-edify the houses of hus-
bandry," that the word owner, which answereth
f) dominus, was he that had the immediate inbe.
ritance ; and so ran the later statutes. Let us see
therefore what judgment the law makcth of a
timber tree; and whether the law doth not place
it within the lot of him that hath the inheritance
as parcel thereof.
First, It appeareth by the register out ^^^ ^^j, ^,
of the words of the writ of waste, that ]]"'fl'vmrum-
the waste is laid to be ad exhxredation- ^^.^^^^^
em, which presupposeth hxredilulem .-
for there cannot be a disinherison by the cutting
down of the tree, except there was an inheritance
in the tree, quia privalio prxsupponil actum.
Again it appeareth out of the words The statute of
of the statute of Gloucester, well ob- ^^udT^^r,t
served, that the tree and the soil are "„',"J,u/,"'^
one entire thing, for the words are, quod """'"■
recuperet rem vasiaiam ,• and yet the books speak,
and the very judgment in waste is quod recuperet
locum vaslatum, which shows, that res and locus
are in exposition of law taken indifferently; for
the lessor shall not recover only the stem of the
tree, but he shall recover the very soil, vvhereunto
the stem continues. And therefore it is notably
ruled in 22 H. VI. f. 13, that if the ter-
, „ ^ , , ^ , 22H.6. f. 13.
mmor do first cut down the tree, and
then destroy the stem, the lessor shall declare
upon two several wastes, and recover treble
damages for them severall}'. But, says the book,
he must bring but one writ, for he can recover the
place wasted but once.
And farther proof may be fitly alleged out of
Mullin's case in the commentaries,
... . . , Mullin'i caM.
where it is said, that for timber trees
tithes shall not be paid. And the reason of the
book is well to be observed ; " for that tithes are
to be paid for the revenue of the inheritance, and
not for the inheritance itself."
Nay, my lords, it is notable to considei what a
reputation the law gives to the trees, oven after
they are severed by grant, as may be plainly
inferred out of Herlackenden's case,
L. Coke, p. 4, f. 02. I mean the prin-
cipal case; where it is resolved, that if the trees
being excepted out of a lease granted to the lessee,
or if the grantee of trees accept a lease of the land,
the property of the trees drown not, as a term
j should drown in a freehold, but subsist as a chau
I tel divided; which shows plainly, though they
} be made transitory, yet they still to some purpose
I savour of the inheritance: for if you go a little,
farther, and put the case of a state tail, which is
I a state of inheritance, then I think clearly they
I are reannexed. But, on the other side, if a man
, buy corn standing upon the ground, and take a
z2
Co. p. 4, f. 62.
270
CASE OF IMPEACHMENT OF WASTE.
lease of the same ground, where the corn stands,
I say plainly it is reaffixed, for paria copulaniur
cum paribus.
And it is no less worthy the note, what an ope-
ration the inheritance leaveth behind it in matter
of waste, even when it is g-one, as appeareth in
the case of tenant after possibility, who shall not
be punished; for though the new reason be,
beca-use his estate was not within the statute of
Gloucester; yet I will not go from my old master
Littleton's reason, which speaketh out of the
depth of the common law, he shall not be punished
" for the inheritance sake which was once in
him."
But this will receive a great deal of illustration,
by considering the terminor's estate, and the
nature thereof, which was well d-efined by Mr.
Heath, who spake excellent well to the case, that
it is such as he ought to yield up the inheritance
in as good plight as he received it; and therefore
Thedfrivation ^^^ wotd fir manus, which is the word
wortfirmlJ!^' of the Statute of Marlebridge, cometh,
*"• as I conceive, a firmando ; because he
makes the profit of the inheritance, which other-
wise should be upon account, and uncertain, firm
and certain; and, accordingly, feodi firma, fee-
farm, is a perpetuity certain. Therefore the
nature and limit of a particular tenant is to make
the inheritance certain, and not to make it worse.
1. Tiierefore he cannot break the soil otherwise
than with his ploughshare, to turn up perhaps a
stone that lieth aloft; his interest is in supcrficic,
not in profunda, he hath but tunicam tcrrse, little
more than the vesture.
If we had fir timber here, as they have in Mus-
covy, he could not pierce the tree to make the
pitch come forth, no more than he may break the
earth.
The evidence ^° ^^^ ^^^ *^^ evidencc, which ispro-
fu'l^SdiTa- pugnaculum hasredifatis, the fortress and
'"*• defence of the land belongeth not to the
lessee, but to the owner of the inheritance.
So the lessee's estate is not account-
porieth continu- cd of that dignity, that it can do ho-
bS" Parti, mage, because it is a badge of continu-
Ki^niories shall auce iu the blood of lord and tenant.
not have aid. »t • i /- • .
J\ either for my own opmion can a par-
ticular tenant of a manor have aid pour file marier,
ou pour f aire fitz chevalier ; because it is given by
law upon an intendment of continuance of blood
and privity between lord and tenant.
And for the tree, which is now in question, do
but consider in what a revolution the law moves,
and as it were in an orb : for when the tree is
young and tender, germen terrae, a sprout of the
oarth, the law giveth it to the lessee, as having a
nature not permanent, and yet easily restored ;
when itcomes to be a timber tree, and hath a nature
solid and durable, the law carrieth it to the lessor.
But after again if it become a sear and a dotard,
and its solid parts grow putrefied, and, as th«. poet
saith, mm jam mater alit tellus viresque ministrat,
then the law returns it back to the lessee. This
is true justice, this is fiuum cuique trihurre ; the
law guiding all things with line of measure and
proportion.
And therefore that interest of the les- Thevi.iaje .lat
see in the tree, which the books call a iJ',ecra'rp''roU^*
special property, is scarce worth that J^.^ i'mpj.'^'ff^r ;
name. He shall have the shade, so [hepnXof'"''
shall he have the shade of a rock ; but "'«"■«•
he shall not have a crystal or Bristol diamond
growing upon the rock. He shall have the pan-
nage ; why"? that is the fruit of the inheritance of
a tree, as herb or grass is of the soil. He shall
have seasonable loppinors ; why 1 so he shall have
seasonable diggings of an open mine. So all
these things are rather profits of the tree, than any
special property in the tree. But about words we
will not differ.
So as I conclude this part, that the reason and
wisdom of law doth match things, as they con-
sort, ascribing to permanent states permanent
interest, and to transitory states transitory in-
terest; and you cannot alter this order of law by
fancies of clauses and liberties, as I will tell you
in the proper place. And therefore the tree stand-
ing belongs clearly to the owner of the inheritance.
Now come I to my second assertion, that by
the severance the ownership or property cannot be
altered ; but that he that had the trees as part of
the inheritance before, must have it as a chattel
transitory after. This is pregnant and followelh
of itself, for it is the same tree still, and, as the
Scripture saith, uti arbor cadet, itajacet.
The owner of the whole must needs own the
parts ; he that owneth the cloth ownetli the thread,
and he that owneth an engine when it is entire,
owneth the parts when it is broken; breaking
cannot alter property.
And therefore the book in Herlack- Heriackenden"?
enden's case doth not stick to give it '^'*-
somewhat plain terms ; and to say that it were an
absurd thing, that the lessee which hath a parti-
cular interest in the land, should have an abso-
lute property in that which is part of the inherit-
ance: you would have the shadow draw the body,
and the twigs draw the trunk. These are truly
called absurdities. And, therefore, in a conclu-
sion so plain, it shall be sufficient to vouch tlie
authorities without enforcing the reasons.
And although the division be good, that was
made by Mr. Heath, that there be four manners
of severances, that is, when the lessee fells the
tree, or when the lessor fells it, or when a stranger
fells it, or when the act of God, a tempest, fells
it; yet this division tendeth rather to explanation
than to proof, and I need it not, because I do main-
tain that in all these cases the property is in the
lessor.
CASE OF IMPEACHMENT OF WASTE.
271
And therefore I will use a distribu- |
lion which rather pnsseth the proof. !
t,.wer'i^grant The question is of prnp(irty . There he
three arjrurnents of property ; damag^es,
seisure, and grant: and according to these I will
examine the property of the trees by the authority
of hooks.
And first for damages.
For damacres, look into the books of the law,
and you shall not find the lessee shall ever recover
duinages, not as they are a badge of property ; for
the damages, which he recovereth, are of two
natures, either for the special property, as they
call it, or as he is chargeable over. And for this,
to avoid length, I will select three books, one
where the lessee shall recover treble damages,
another where he shall recover but for his special
property, and the third where he shall recover for
the body of the tree, which is a special case, and
standeth merely upon a special reason.
The first is the book of 44 E. III.
** ■ ' ' ■ f. 27, where it is agreed, that if tenant
for life be, and a disseisor commit waste, the
lessee shall recover in trespass as he shall answer
in waste; but that tlvs is a kind of recovery of
damages, though per accidcns, may appear plainly.
Fcr if the lessor die, whereby his action is gone,
then the disseisor is likewise discharged, other-
wise than for the special property.
The second book is 9 E. IV. f. 35,
' ' ' " where it is admitted, that if the lessor
himself cut down the tree, the lessee shall recover
but for his special profit of shade, pannage, lop-
pings, because he is not charged over.
The third is 44 E. III. f. 44, where
it is said, that if the lessee fell trees to
repair the barn, which is not ruinous in his own
defiult, and the lessor come and take them away,
he shall have trespass, and in that case he shall
recover for the very body of the tree, for he hath
an absolute property in them for that intent.
And that it is only for that intent appeareth
notably by the book 38 Jss. f. 1. If
the lessee after he hath cnt down the
tree employ it not to reparations, but employ other
trees of better value, yet it is waste ; which
showeth plainly the property is respective to the
employment.
Nay, 5 E. IV. f. TOO, goeth farther
6E.4,f. 100. , / , , , „ . ,
and showeth, that the special property
which the lessee had was of the living tree, and
determines, as Herlackenden's case saith, by
severance; for, then, magis digmim trahit ad se
minus dignum : for it saith, that the lessee cannot
pay the workmen's wages with those parts of the
tree which are not timber. And so I leave the
first demonstration of property, which is by
damages; except you will add the case of
27 H. VIII. t. 1 3, where it is said, that
f7H.8,f. 13. . r IT J u ..u
if tenant tor life, and he in the rever-
mon join a lease for years, and lessee for years
fell timber trees, they shall join in an action of
waste; but he in the reversion shall recover the
wiiole damages: and great reason, for the special
property was in the lessee for years, the general
in him in the reversion, so the tenant for life
meane had neither the one nor the other.
Now, for the seisure, you may not look for
plentiful authority in that: for the lessor, whicli
had the more beneficial remedy by action for
treble damages, had little reason to resort to the
weaker remedy by seisure, and leases without
impeachment were then rare, as I will tell you
anon. And, therefore, the question of the seisure
came chiefly in experience upon the case of the
windfalls, which could not be punished by action
of waste.
First, therefore, the case of 40 E.
111. pi. 22, IS express, where at the
king's suit, in the behalf of the heir of Darcy,
who was in ward, the king's lessee was questioned
in waste, and justified the taking of the trees,
because they were overthrown by winds, and
taken away by a stranger. But Knevet saith,
although one be guardian, yet the trees, when by
their fall they are severed from the freehold, ho
hath no property of the chattels, but they apper-
tain to the heir, and the heir shall have trespass
of them against a stranger, and not the guardian,
no more than the bailiff of a manor. So that
that book rules the interest of the tree to be in the
heir, and goes to a point farther, that he shall have
trespass for them; but of seisure there had been
no question.
So again in 2 H. VII. the words of
Brian are, that, for the timber trees, the
lessor may take them; for they are his; ana
seemeth to take some difference between them
and the gravel.
The like reason is of the timber of a house, as
appears 34 E. III. f. 5, abridged by
Brook, tit. Waste, pi. 34, when it is
said, it was doubted who should have the timbei
of a house which fell by tempest; ana, saith thw
book, it seems it doth appertain to the lessor,
and good reason, for it is no waste, and tho
lessee is not bound to re-edify it: and, therefore,
it is reason the lessor have it ; but Herlackenden's
case goes farther, where it is said that the lessee
may help himself with the timber, if he wili
re-edify it; but clearly he hath no interest but
towards a special employment.
Now, you have had a case of the timber tree,
and of the timber of the house, now take a case
of the mine, where that of the trees is likewise
put, and that is 9 E. IV. f. 35, where
it is said by Needham, that if a lease
be made of land wherein there is tin, or iron, or
lead, or coals, or quarry, and the lessor enter and
take the tin or other materials, the lessee stiaii
punish him for coming upon his lard, hut not for
taking of the substances. And so of great trees:
272
CASE OF IMPEACHMENT OF WASTE.
but Danby goes farther, and saith, the law that
gives him the thing, doth likewise give him
means to come by it; but they both agree that
the interest is in the lessor. And thus much for
the seisure.
For the grant; it is not so certain a badge of
property as the other two ; for a man may have a
property, and yet not grantabje, because it is
turned into a right, or otherwise suspended.
And, therefore, it is true, that by the book in
21 H. VI. that if the lessor grant the trees, the
grantee shall not take them, no, not after the lease
expired; because this property is but de futuro,
expectant; but it is as plain on the other side
that the lessee cannot grant them, as was resolved
Marwoodind ^'^ '■^^'° Hotable casBs, namely, the case
s.nJers. c. gf Marwood and Sanders, 41 El. in
communi banco; where it was ruled, that the
tenant of the inheritance may make a feoffment
with exception of timber trees : but that if lessee
for life or years set over his estate with an excep-
tion of the trees, the exception is utterly void ;
and the like resolution was in the case between
Foster and Fostcr and Mills, plaintiff, and Spencer
spen«r» case, j^,,^ Boord, defendant, 28 Eliz. rot. 820.
Now come we to the authorities, which have
an appearance to be against us, which are not
many, and they be easily answered, not by dis-
tinguishing subtilly, but by marking the books
advisedly.
1. There be two books that seem to cross the
authorities touching the interest of the windfalls,
7H.6. 7 H. VI. and 44 E. III. f. 44, where,
44E.3, f. 44. upon waste brought and assigned in
the succision of trees, the justification is, that they
were overthrown by wind, and so the lessee took
them for, fuel, and allowed for a good plea ; but
these books are reconciled two ways : first, look
into both the justifications, and you shall find
that the plea did not rely only in that they were
wfndfalls, but couples it with this, that they were
first sear, and then overthrown by wind ; and that
makes an end of it, for sear trees belong to the
lessee, standing or felled, and you have a special
replication in the book of 44 E. III. that the wind
did but rend them, and buckle them, and that
they bore fruit two years after. And, secondly,
you have ill luck with your windfalls, for they be
still apple trees, which are but wastes, per accidcns,
as willows or thorns are in the sight of a house;
but when they are once felled they are clearly
matter of fuel.
Another kind of authorities, that make show
against us, are those that say that the lessee shall
punish the lessor in trespass for taking the trees,
» H.4 f.29. which are 5 H. IV. f. 29, and 1 Mar.
i»fa/.9o. Bier. f. 90, Mervin's case; and you
might add if you will 9 E. IV. the case vouched
before: unto which the answer is, that trespass
must be understood for the special property, and
not for ihe body of the tree; for those two books
speak not a word what he shall recover, nor that
it shall be to the value. And, therefore, 9 E. IV.
is a good expositor, for that distinguisheth where
the other two books speak indefinitely; yea, but
5 H. IV. goeth f\irther, and saith, that the wrl
shall purport arbures suas, which is true in respect
of the special property ; neither are writs to be
varied according to special cases, but are framed
to the general case, as upon lands recovered
in value in tail, the writ shall suppose donum,
a gift.
And the third kind of authority is some book?
as 13 H. VII. f. 9, that say, that tres-
13 H 7 f 0
pass lies not by the lessor against the " '
lessee for cutting down trees, but only waste;
but that it is to be understood of trespass vi d
armis, and would have come fitly in question if
there had been no seisure in this case.
Upon all which I conclude, that the whole
current of authorities proveth the properties of the
trees upon severance to be in the lessor by the
rules of the common law; and that although the
common law would not so far protect the folly of
the lessor, as to give him remedy by action,
where the state was created by his own act. yet,
the law never took from him his property ; so
that, as to the property, before the statute and
since, the law was ever one.
Now come I to the third assertion, that the
statute of Gloucester hath not transferred the pro-
perty of the lessee upon an intendment of recom-
pense to the lessor ; which needs no long speech :
it is grounded upon a probable reason, and upon
one special book.
The reason is, that damages are a recompense
for property; and, therefore, that the statute of
Gloucester giving damages should exclude pro-
perty. The authority seems to be 12
E. IV. f. 8, where Catesbey, affirming
that the lessee at will shall have the great trees,
as well as lessee for years or life ; Fairfax and
.Tennings correct it with a difference, that the
lessor may take them in the case of tenant at
will, because he hath no remedy by the statute,
but not in case of the termors.
This conceit may be reasonable thus far, that
the lessee shall not both seise and bring waste ;
but if he seise, he shall not have his action ; if he
recover by action, he shall not seise; for a man
shall not have both the thing and recompense ; it
is a bar to the highest inheritance, the kingdom
of heaven, receperunt nicrcedem suam. Rut at the
I first, it is at his election whether remedy he will
i use, like as in the case of trespass : where if a
j man once recover in damages, it hath concluded
! and turned the property. Nay, I invert the argu-
ment upon the force of the statute of Gloucester
thus : that if there had been no property at com-
mon law, yet the statute of Gloucester, by re-
straining the waste, and giving an action, doth
imply a properly : whereto a better case cannot
CASE OF IMPEACHMENT OF WASTE.
273
be put tnan the case upon the statute de doms
conditionalibus, where there are no words to give
any reversion or remainder; and yet the statute
giving -d f'trrnedon, where it lay not before, being
bi't an action, implies an actual reversion and
remainder.
A«t-.t«tt(;ivipg Thus have I passed over the first
p'l'ie'h a" i"te- Tiain part, which I have insisted upon
"''■ the longer, because I shall have use of
it for the clearing of the second.
Now to come to the force of the clause absque
impetitioiie vault. Tiiis clause must of necessity
work in one of these degrees, either by way of
grant of property, or by way of power and liberty
knit to the state, or by way of discharge of action ;
whereof the first two I reject, the last I receive.
Nomntof Tiicreforc, I think the other side will
properly. ^qj- affirm that this clause amounts to
a grant of trees ; for then, according to the reso-
lution in Merlackenden's case, they should go to
the executors, and the lessee might grant them
over, and they might be taken after the state
determined. Now it is plain that this liberty is
created with the estate, passeth with the estate,
and determines with the estate.
That appears by 5 Hen. V. where it
is said, that if lessee for years without
impeachment of waste accept a confirmation for
life, the privilege is gone.
3 J, 3 And so are the books in 3 E. HI. and
2SH.8. 28 H. Vni. that if a lease be made
without impeachment of waste pour autre vie, the
remainder to the lessee for life, the privilege is
gone, because he is in of another estate ; so then
plainly it amounts to no grant of property, neither
can it any ways touch the property, nor enlarge
the special property of the lessee : for will any
man say, that if you put Marwood and Sanders's
case of a lease without impeachment of waste,
that he may grant the land with the exception of
the trees any more than an ordinary lessee? Or
shall the windfalls be more his in this case than
in the other 1 for he was not impeachable of waste
for wind;alls no more than where he hath the
clause. Or will any man say, that if a stranger
commit waste, such a lessee may seise. These
things, 1 su])pose, no man will affirm. Again,
why should not a liberty or privilege in law be as
strong as a privilege in fact 1 as in the case of
tenant after possibility : or where there is a lessee
for life tlie remainder for life] for in these cases
they are privileged from waste, and yet that
trenches not the properly.
Now, therefore, to take the second course, that
it should be as a real power annexed to the state;
neither can that be, for it is the law thatmouldeth
esiaies, and not men's fancies. And, therefore,
if men by clauses, like voluntaries in music, run
not upon the grounds of law, and do restrain an
estate ri'ire than the law restrains it, or enable an
estate m-re than the law enables it, or guide an
Vol.. 111.— 35
estate otherwise than the law guides it, they be
more repugnancies and vanities. And, therefore,
if I make a feoffment in fee, provided the feoffee
shall not fell timber, the clause of condition is
void. And so, on the other side, if I make a lease
with a power that he shall fell timber, it is void.
So if I make a lease with a power that he may
make feoffment, or that he may make leases for
forty years, or that if he make default I shall not
be received, or that the lessee may do homage:
these are plainly void, as against law, and repug-
nant to the state. No, this cannot be done by
way of use, except the words be apt, as in Mild-
may's case : neither is this clause, in the sense
that they take it, any better.
Therefore, laying aside these two constructions,
whereof the one is not maintained to be, the other
cannot be : let us come to the true sense of this
clause, which is by way of discharge of the action,
and no more: wherein I will speak first of the
words, then of the reason, then of the authorities
which prove our sense, then of the practice, which
is pretended to prove theirs ; and, lastly, I will
weigh the mischief how it stands for our construc-
tion or theirs.
It is an ignorant mistaking of any man to take
impeachment for impedimentum and not for im-
petitio ; for it is true that impedimentum doth
extend to all hindrances, or disturbances, or inter-
ruptions, as well in joa/s as judicial. Bat inipetiiio
is merely a judicial claim or interruption by suit
in law, and upon the matter all one with implaci-
tatio. Wherein first we may take light of the
derivation of impetilio, which is a compound of
the preposition in and the verb pcto, whereof the
verb pelo itself doth signify a demand, but yet
properly such a demand as is not extrajudicial!
for the words petit judicium petit auditum brevis,
&c., are words of acts judicial ; as for the demand
in pais, it is rather requisitio than petitio, as licet
sxpius requisitus ; so much for the verb peto. But
the preposition in enforceth it more, which signi-
iies against : as Cicero in Verrem, in Catilinam ;
and so in composition, to inveigh, is to speak
against ; so it is such a demand only where there
is a party raised to demand against, that is, an
adversary, which must be in a suit in law ; and
so it is used in records of law.
As Coke, lib. 1, f. 17, Porter's case, it was
pleaded in bar, that dicta domina regina mine ipsos
Johannem et Henricum Porter petere seu occasionart
non debet, that is, implacitare.
j So likewise Coke 1. 1, f. 27, case of Alton
Woods, quod dicta domina regirm nunc ipsuni pri>
I inde aliqualiter impetcre seu occasionare non debet.
I So in the book of entries, f. 1, ///. D. 15 H. Vll
rot. 2, inter placita regis, et super hoc venit IV. B
j commonachus abbatis TV. loci illlus ordinarir,
gercnsque vices ipsius abbatis, ad quoscunque clertcon
I dequolibet criminecoram domino rege impetitos sire
! irritatos calumniand'' . So muc^ "xm et usu termini.
274
CASE OF IMPEACHMENT OF WASTE.
For reason : first, it ought to be considered that
the punishment of waste is strict and severe,
because the penalty is great, treble damages, and
the place wasted : and, again, because the lessee
must undertake for the acts of strangers; where-
upon I infer, that the reason which brought this
clause in use, ab initio, was caution to save, and
to free men from the extremity of the penalty, and
not any intention to countermand the property.
Add to this, that the law doth assign in most
cases double remedy, by matter of suit, and matter
in pais ; for disseisins, actions and entries ; for
trespasses, action and seisure ; for nuisances,
action and abatement : and, as Littleton doth
instruct us, one of these remedies may be released
without touching the other. If the disseisee
release all actions, saith Littleton, yet my entry
remains ; but if I release all demands or remedies,
or the like words of a general nature, it doth
release the right itself. And, therefore, I may be
of opinion, that if there be a clause of grant in my
'ease expressed, that if my lessee or his assigns
cut down and take away any timber trees, that I
and my heirs will not charge them by action,
claim, seisure, or other interruption, either this
shall inure by way of covenant only, or if you
take it to inure by way of absolute discharge, it
amounts to a grant of property in the trees, like
as the case of 3 1 ^ssis. I grant, that
A clause that if I pav uot vou ten pounds per annum
sounds to a , ^ , ,, ,. • ^
pn«er amounts at such fcasts, you shall distrain for
to a property, , . n r^ ^ \ i i •
if iiie state bear It In my Hiauor 01 Dale, though this
sound executory in power, yet it
amounts to a present grant of a rent. So as I
conclude that the discharge of action the law
knows, grant of the property the law knows, but
this «ame mathematical power being a power
amounting to a properly, and yet no property, and
knit to a state that cannot bear it, the law knoweth
not, tertium peiiilus ignoramus.
For the authorities, they are of three kinds,
two by inference, and the third direct.
4i.E. 3, f. 23, The first I do collect upon the books
''*■'" ' of 42 Edw. IIL fol. 23 and 24, by the
difference taken by Mowbray, and agreed by the
court, that the law doth intend the clause of dis-
impeachment of waste to be a discharge special,
and not general or absolute ; for there the princi-
pal case was, that there was a clause in the lease,
that the lessor should not demand any right,
claim, or challenge in the lands during the life of
the lessee. It is resolved by the book, that it is
no bar in waste; but that if the clause had been,
that the lessee should not have been impeached
for waste, clearly a good bar; which demonstrates
plainly, that general words, be they never so loud
nnd strong, bear no more than the state will bear,
and to any other purpose are idle. But special
Nvords that inure by way of discharge of action,
nre good and allowed by law.
The same
of Ine books
4 Ed. II. Fitzh. tit. waste 15, and 17 uu^J.T
E. III. f. 7. Fitzh. tit. waste 101, llLn'/ww
where there was a clause. Quod liceat
facere commodum suum meliori modo que poterit.
Yet, saith Skipwith, doth this amount, that he
shall, for the making of his own profit, disinherit
the lessor 1 Nego consfquentiam ,• so that still the
law allows not of the general discharge, but of
the special that goeth to the action.
The second authority by inference is out of
9 H. VI. fol. 35. Fitzh. tit. waste 39,
and 32 IT. VIII. Dyer, fol. 47, where ri"h^i'-. waste
the learning is taken, that notwith- s/h. 8. Dyer,
standing this clause be inserted into a
lease, yet a man may reserve unto himself remedy
by entry^: but, say I, if this clause should have
that sense, which they on the other side would
give it, namely, that it should amount to an abso-
lute privilege and power of disposing, then were
the proviso flat repugnant, all one as if it were
absque impetiiione vasii, proviso quod non faciei
vastum; which are contradictories: and note well
that in the book of 9 H. VI., the proviso is quod
nonfaccat vastum voluntarium in domibus ,- which
indeed doth but abridge in one kind, and there-
fore may stand without repugnancy : but in the
latter book- it is general, that is to s?iy, absque
impetitione vasti, et si coniigerit ipsum facere
vastum tunc licebit reintrare. And there Shelley
making the objection, that the condition was re-
pugnant, it is salved thus, sed aliqui tenuerunt,
that this word impetitione vasti is to be under-
stood that he shall not be impleaded by waste, or
punished by action; and so indeed it ought:
those aliqui rede tenuerunt.
For the authorities direct, they are two, the one
27 H. VI. Fitzh. tit. waste 8, where a 27 n.e. Fitzh.
lease was made without impeachment ""-"^^''S-
of waste, and a stranger committed waste, and the
rule is, that the lessee shall recover in trespass
only for the crop of the tree, and not for the body
of the tree. It is true it comes by a dicitur, but
it is now a legitur ; and a query there is, and rea-
son, or else this long speech were time ill spent.
And the last authority is the case of Sir Moyle
Finch and his mother, referred to my Lord Wrey
and Sir Roger Manwood, resolved upon t;onfer-
ence with other of the judges vouched by Wrey
in Herlackenden's case, and reported to my lord
chief justice here present, as a resolution of law,
being our very case.
And, for the cases to the contrary, T know not
one in all the law direct; they press the suMe.kc.
statute of Marlebridge, which hath an '^"^<'^"^'^-
exception in the prohibition, firmarii non facient
vastum, etc. nisi speciakm inde habuerint coiices-
sionem per scriptum eonventionis, mentionem fa-
ciens, quod hoc facere possint. This presseth not
the question ; for no man doubteth, but it will
CASE OF IMPEACHMENT OF WASTE.
275
excuse in an action of waste; and, again, ntst
habeant speciakm concessionem may be meant of
an absolute grant of the trees themselves ; and
otherwise the clause absque impelilione vasii
taketh away the force of the statute, and looseth
what the statute bindeth; but it toucheth not the
property at common law.
For Littleton's case, in his title Of
Conditions, where it is said, that if a
feoffment in fee be made upon condition, that
the feoffee infeoff the husband and wife, and the
heirs of their two bodies; and that the husband die,
that now the feoffee ought to make a lease without
\mpeachment of waste to the wife, the remainder
to the right heirs of the body of her husband and
her begotten; whereby it would be inferred, that
such a lessee should have equal privilege with
tenant in tail : the answer appears in Littleton's
own words, which is, that the feoffee ought to go
as near the condition, and as near the intent of
the condition as he may. But to come near is not
to reach, neither doth Littleton undertake for that.
Culpepper's "^^ f""" Culpcppcr's casc, it is ob-
2E?iiDycr scurcly put, and concluded in division
f. ib4. qC opinion ; but yet so as it rather
makes for us. The case is 2 Eliz. Dyer, fol.
181, and is in effect this: a man makes a lease
fur years, excepting timber trees, and afterwards
makes a lease without impeachment of waste to
trees to John a Style, and then granteth the land
and trees to John a Down, and binds himself to
cvarrant and save harmless John a Down against
John a Style; John a Style cutteth down the
treeei; the question was, whether the bond were
fofteued 1 and that question Fesorteth to the other
question: whether John a Style, by virtue of
puch lease, could fell the trees'? and held by
Weston and Brown that he could not: which
proves plainly for us, that he had no property by
that clause in the tree ; though it is true that in
that case the exception of the trees turneth the
case, ant) so in elTect it provetli neither way.
For the practice, if it were so ancient
and common, as is conceived ; yet
since the authorities have not approved, but con-
demned it, it is no better than a popular error : it
IS but pedum visa est via, not recta visa est via.
But I conceive it to be neither ancient nor com-
mon. It is true I find it first in 19 E. II. I
mean such a clause, but it is one thing to say
that the clause is ancient; and it is another thing
to say that this exposition, which they would
now introduce, is ancient. And therefore you
must note that a practice doth then expound the
law, when the act, which is practised, were
merely tortuous or void, if the law should not
approve it; but that is not the case here, for we
agree the clause to be lawful; nay, we say
that it is no sort inutile, but there is use of it, to
avoid this severe penalty of treble damages. But,
to speak plainly, I will tell you how this clause
came in from 13 of E. I. till about 12 of E. IV.
The state tail, though it had the qualities of an
inheritance, yet it was without power to alien ;
but as soon as that was set at liberty, by common
recoveries, then there must be found some other
device, that a man might be an absolute owner
of the land for the time, and yet not enabled to
alien, and for that purpose was this clause found
out; for you shall not find in one amongst a hun-
dred, that farmers had it in thoir leases; but
those that were once owners of the inheritance,
and had put it over to their sons or next heirs,
reserved such a beneficial state to themselves.
And therefore the truth is, that the flood of thit)
usage came in with perpetuities, sa"ve that the
perpetuity was to make an inheritance like a stt,ai
for life, and this was to make a stem for life liko
an inheritance; both concurring in this, that they
presume to create fantastical estates, contrary
to the ground of law.
And, therefore, it is no matter though it went
out with the perpetuities, as it came in, to the
end that men that have not the inheritance should
not have power to abuse the inheritance.
And for the mischief, and consideratioi of
bonurn publicum, certainly this clause with this
opposition tendeth but to make houses ruinous,
and to leave no timber upon the ground to build
them up again; and therefore let men, in God's
name, when they establish their states, and plant
their sons or kinsmen in their inheritance of some
portions of their lands, with reservation of the
freehold to themselves, use it, and enjoy it in
such sort, as may tend ad xdificationem, and not
ad deslructionem ; for that it is good for posterity,
and for the state in general.
And for the timber of this realm, it is vivus the
saurus regni ; and it is the matter of our walls,
walls not only of our houses, but of our island ;
so it is a general disinherison to the kingdom to
favour that exposition, which tends to the decay
of it, being so great already ; and to favour waste
when the times themselves are set upon waste
and spoil. Therefore, since the reason and author-
ities of law, and policy of estate do meet, and
that those that have, or shall have such convey-
ances, may enjoy the benefit of that clause to pro-
tect them in a moderate manner, that is, from the
penalty of the action ; it is both good law and
good policy for the kingdom, and not injurious oi
inconvenient for particulars, to take this clause
strictly, and therein to affirm the last report. And
so I pray judgment for the plaintiff.
THE ARGUMENT
IN
LOW'S CASE OF TENURES,
IN THE KING'S BENCH.
The manor of Alderwasley, parcel of the duohy,
and lying out of the county palatine, was, before
the duchy came to the crown, held of the king by
knight's service in capite. The land in question
was held of the said manor in soccage. The
duchy and this manor, parcel thereof, descended to
King Henry IV. King Henry VIII. by letters
patent the 19th of his reign, granted this manor
to Anthony Low, grandfather of the ward, and
then tenant of the land in question, reserving
twenty-six pounds ten shillings rent and fealty,
tantum pro omnibus servitiis, and this patent is
under the duchy-seal only. The question is, how
this tenancy is held, whether in capite or in soc-
cage.
The case restetli upon a point, unto which all
the questions arising are to be reduced.
The first is, whether this tenancy, being by the
grant of the king of the manor to the tenant grown
to a unity of possession with the manor, be held
as the manor is held, which is expressed in the
patent to be in soccage.
The second, whether the manor itself be held
in soccage according to the last reservation, or in
capite by revivor of the ancient seigniory, which
was in capite before the duchy came to the crown.
Therefore my first proposition is, that this te-
nancy, which without all colour is no parcel of the
manor, cannot be comprehended within the tenure
reserved upon the manor, but that the law createth
a several and distinct tenure thereupon, and that
not guided according to the express tenure of the
manor, but merely secundum normam legis, by the
intendment and rule of law, which must be a
tenure by knight's service in capite.
The king's te. -^-nd my second proposition is, that
Snl^hTrfhy"' admitting that the tenure of the tenancy
[.^"'"hMb'y should ensue the tenure of the manor,
I^".Vr"'cX"' yp^ nevertheless, the manor itself,
./■-VimeDts. which was first held of the crown in
capite, the tenure suspended by the conquest of
the duciiy to the crown, being now conveyed out
of the crown under the duchy-seal only, which
hath no power to touch or carry any interest,
whereof the king was vested in right of the crown,
is now so severed and disjoined from the ancient
wigniorv, which was in capite, as the same
276
ancient seigniory is revived, and so the new reser-
vation void ; because the manor cannot be charged
with two tenures.
This case concerneth one of the greatest and
fairest flowers of the crown, which is the king's
tenures, and that in their creation ; which is more
than their preservation : for if the rules and max-
ims of law in the first raising of tenures in capite
be weakened, this nips the flower in the bud, and
may do more hurt by a resolution in law, than the
losses which the king's tenures do daily receive
by oblivion or suppression, or the neglect of
officers, or the iniquity of jurors, or other like
blasts, whereby they are continually shaken : and
therefore it behoveth us of the king's council to
have a special care of this case, as much as in us
is, to give satisfaction to the court. Therefore,
before I come to argue these two points particu-
larly, I will speak something of the favour of law
towards tenures in capite, as that which will give
a force and edge to all that I shall speak after-
wards.
The constitution of this kingdom ap- ^„ ,,„j j„ ,^,
peareth to be a free monarchy in no- e"j|'!,™"''
thing better than in this : that as there onnb'ute/and^
is no land of the subject that is charged ?"',t"y o"}"*"*
to the crown by way of tribute, or tax, ""'"™-
or tall'age, except it be set by Parliament: so, on
the other side there is no land of the subject but
is charged to the crown by tenure, mediate or im-
mediate, and that by the grounds of the common
law. This is the excellent temper and commix,
ture of this estate, bearing marks of the sove-
reignty of the king, and of the freedom of the
subject from tax, whose possessions are feodalia,
not trihutaria.
Tenures, according to the most general divi-
sion, are of two natures, the one containing mat-
ter of protection, and the other matter of profit ;
that of protection is likewise double, divine pro-
tection and military. The divine protection is
chiefly procured by the prayers of holy and devout
men ; and great pity it is that it was depraved and
corrupted with superstition : This begot the te-
nure in frankalmoigne, which, though in burden it
is less than in soccage, yet in virtue it is more
than knight's service. For we rea I how, during
LOWS CASE OF TENURES.
277
t\ie while Moses in tlic mount held up his hands,
the Hebrews prevailed in battle; as well as when
Elias prayed, rain came after drought, which
made the plough go; so that 1 hold the tenure in
I'rankalmoigne in the first institution indifferent to
knight's service and soccage. Setting apart this
tenure, there remain the other two, that of knight's
service, and that of soccage ; the one tending
chiefly to defence and protection, the other to pro-
fit and maintenance of life. They are all three
comprehended in the ancient verse, Tu semper ora,
tu prulegc, tuque labora. But between these two
services, knight's service and soccage, the law of
England makes a great difference : for this king-
dom, my lords, is a state neither effeminate nor
inerchantlike ; but the laws give the honour unto
arms and military service, like the laws of a na-
tion before whom Julius Caesar turned his back,
as their own prophet says : Territa quxsttis osten-
dil ierga Britannis. And, therefore, howsoever
men, upon husbandlike considerations of profit,
esteem of soccage tenures ; yet the law, that
looketh to the greatness of the kingdom, and pro-
ce^deth upon considerations of estate, giveth the
pre-eminence altogether to knight's service.
We see that the ward, who is ward for knight's
service land, is accounted in law disparaged, if he
be tendered a marriage of the burgliers' parentage :
and we see that the knight's fees were by the an-
cient laws the materials of all nobility ; for that
it appears by divers records how many knight's
fees should by computation go to a barony, and
so to an earldom. Nay, we see that, in the very
summons of Parliament, the knights of the shire
are required to be chosen milites gladio cindi ; so
as the very call, though it were to council, bears a
mark of arms and habiliments of war. To con-
clude, the whole composition of this warlike na-
tion, and the favours of law, tend to the advance-
ment of military virtue and service.
But now farther, amongst the tenures by knight's
service, that of the king in capite is the most high
and worthy ; and the reason is double; partly
because it is held by the king's crown and person,
and partly because the law createth such a privity
between the line of the crown and the inheritors
of such tenancies, as there cannot be an alienation
without the king's license, the penalty of which
alienation was by the common law the forfeiture
of the state itself, and by the statute of E. III. is
reduced to fine and seizure. And although this
also has been unworthily termed by the vulgar,
not capite, captivity and thraldom ; yet that wliich
they count bondage, the law counteth honour,
like to the case of tenants in tail of the king's
advancement, which is a great restraint by the
statute of 34 H. VIII., but yet by that statute it is
imputed for an honour. This favour of law to the
tenure by knight's service in capite produceth
this effect, that wheresoever there is no express
service effectually limited, or wheresoever that,
which was once limited, fmleth, the law ever-
more supplieth a tenure by knight's service in
capite ; if it be a blank once — that the law must
fill it up, the law ever with her own hand writes,
tenure by knight's service in capite. And therefore
theresolutionwasnotableby the judges
of both benches, that where the king
confirmed to iiis farmers' tenants for life, tenend'' per
scrvilia dchita, this was tenure in capite ; for other
services are servitia requisiia, required by the
words of patents or grants; but that only is ser-
vitium debitum, by the rules of law.
The course, therefore, that I will hold in the
proof of the first main point, shall be this. F^irst,
I will show, maintain, and fortify my former
grounds, that wheresoever the law createth the
tenure of the king, the law hath no variety, but
always raises a tenure in capite.
Secondly, that in the case present, there is not
any such tenure expressed, as can take place, and
exclude the tenure in law, but that there is, as it
were, a lapse to the law.
And, lastly, I will show in what cases the for-
mer general rule receiveth some show of excep-
tion ; and will show the difference between them
and our case; wherein I shall include an answer
to all that hath been said on the other side.
For my first proposition I will divide into four
branches ; first, I say, where there is no tenure re-
served, the law createth a tenure in capite ; second-
ly, where the tenure is uncertain; thirdly, where
the tenure reserved is impossible or repugnant to
law ; and, lastly, where a tenure once created is
afterwards extinct.
For the first, if the king give lands p„ />,,,„< ,«
and say nothing of the tenure, this is a ^'^^-^sh. &
tenure in capite; nay, if the king give 8H.7,f.3,b
vvhiteacre and blackacre, and reserves a tenure
only of whiteacre, and that a tenure expressed to
be in soccage; yet you shall not for fellowship-
sake, because they are in one patent, intend the like
tenure of blackacre ; but that shall he held in capite.
So, if the king grant land, held as of a manor,
with warranty, and a special clause of recompense,
and the tenant be impleaded, and recover in value,
this land shall be held in capite, and not of the
manor.
So, if the king exchange the manor of Dale
for the manor of Sale, which is held in soccage,
although it be by the word ixcamhium,ye\,ih?LX
goeth to equality of the state, not of the tenure, and
the manor of Dale, if no tenure be expressed, shall
be held in capite. So much for silence of tenure.
For the second branch, which is uncertaint)' of te-
nure; first, where an /if jioranius is found by office,
this, by the common law, is a tenure in capite,
which is most for the king's benefit; and the pre-
sumption of law is so strong, that it amounts to a
directfindingoraffirmative,and the party
shall have a ru-gative or traverse, which uj!^";^.
issomewhatstrangetoathingindefinite. ^^>*^''-'^
2 A
278
LOW'S CASE OF TENURES.
Austin's office.
So if in ancient time one held of the kin^, as
nf a manor by knight's service, and the land re-
turn to the king by attainder, and then the king
irranteth it tenend'' per fidelitatem ta?itum, and it
returneth the second time to the king,
and the king granteth it per servitia
avtehac consucta ,• now, because of the uncertainty,
neither service shall take place, and the tenure
shall be in capite, as was the opinion of you, my
lord chief justice, where you were commissioner
to find an office after Austin's death.
So if the king grant land tcneiur de manerio de
East Greenwich vel de honore de Hampton, tliis is
void for the non-certainty, and shall be held of
the king in capite.
For the third branch, if the king
limit land to be discharged of tenure,
■is absque aliquo inde reddendo, this is a tenure in
capite, and yet, if one should go to the next, ad
proximum, it should be a soccage, for the least is
next to none at all ; but you may not take the
king's grant by argument; but, where they can-
not take place effectually and punctually, as they
are expressed, there you shall resort wholly to the
judgment of the law.
So if the kino- grrant land tenend'' si
I4H.6,f. 12. ^ J' .
jrankmejit come il en son corone, this is
a tenure in capite.
Merefeiid'. ^^ ^'^''^^ ^^ glvcn to be held of a lord-
"*°- ship not capable, as of Salisbury Plain,
or a corporation not in esse, or of the manor of
a subject, this is a tenure in capite.
So if land be given to hold by impossible ser-
vice, as by performing the office of the sheriff of
Yorkshire, which no man can do but the sheriff,
and fealty for all service, this is a tenure in
capite.
For the fourth branch, which cometh nearest to
our case ; let us see where a seigniory was once,
and is after extinguished ; this may be in two
manners, by release in foct, or by unity of profes-
sion, which is a release or discharge in law.
And, therefore, let the case be, that
r.rfeSOH. ?. , , . , , , . ,
nver8.H. 7, the king releaseth to his tenant that
holds of him in soccage ; this release
is good, and the tenant shall now hold in capite,
for the former tenure being discharged, the tenure
in law ariseth.
I E 3, f.4. So the case, which is in 1 E. III., a
mainder ouster to the king, the state tail shall be
held in capite, and the first tenancy, if it were in
tioccage, by the unity of the tenancy, shall be
discharged, and a new raised thereupon: and
tlierefore the opinion, or rather the query in Dyer,
no law.
Thus much for my major proposition :
now for the minor, or the assumption,
•t IS this : first, that the land in question is dis-
charged of tenure by the purchase of the manor ;
then, that the reservation of the service upon tho
manor cannot possibly inure to the tenancy ; and
I then, if a corruption be of ♦he first tenurr, and nr»
; generation of the new, then cometh in tho tenure
per norman legis, which is in capite.
I And the course of my proof shall be ah cnnme'
I ratione partitim, which is one of the clearest and
I most forcible kinds of argument.
If this parcel of land be held by fealty and rent
tantum, either it is the old fealty before the pur-
chase of the manor, or it is the new fealty reserved
and expressed upon the grant of the manor, or it
is a new fealty raised by intendment of law in
conformity and congruity of the fealty reserved
upon the manor; but none of these, eri^o, &c.
That it should be the old fealty, is void of sense ;
for it is not ad eosdem terminos. The first fealty
was between the tenancy and the manor, that te-
nure is by the unity extinct. Secondly, that was
a tenure of a manor, this is a tenure in gross.
Thirdly, the rent of twenty-six pounds ten shil-
lings must needs be new, and will you have a
new rent with an old fealty 1 These things are
porlcnia in /e^e ,• na}s I demand if the tenure of
the tenancy. Low's tenure, had been by knight's
service, would you have said that had remained ?
No, but that it was altered by the new reserva-
tion ; ersoi no colour of the old fe.dty.
That it cannot be the new fealty is also mani-
fest ; for the new reservation is upon the manor
and this is no part of the manor : for if it had
escheated to the king in an ordinary escheat, or
come to him upon a mortmain, in these cases il
had come in lieu of the seigniory, and been parcel
of the manor, and so within the reservation, but
clearly not upon a purchase in fact.
Again, the reservation cannot inure, but upon
that which is granted ; and this tenancy was never
granted, but was in the tenant before ; and there-
fore no colour it should come under the reserva-
tion. But if it be said, that nevertheless the seig-
niory of that tenancy was parcel of the manor,
and is also granted ; and although it be extinct in
substance, yet it may be in esse as to gpiij. coke,
the king's service: this deserveth an- Lib.3,f3o.
swer : for this assertion may be colourably infer-
red out of Carr's case.
King Edward VL grants a manor, rendering
ninety-four pounds rent in fee farm tenendum de
P^ast Greenwich in soccage ; and after. Queen
Mary granteth these rents amongst other things
tenendum in capite, and the grantee released to
the heir of the tenant; yet the rent shall hem esse,
1 as to the king, but the land, saith the book, shall
I be devisable by the statute for the whole, as noi
; held in capite.
i And so the case of the honour of Pick-
I . II- 1 L 25 Asc. pi. 60.
eringe, where the king granted 1,he
bailiwick renderinsf rent; and after granted tri«
, honour, and the bailiwick became forfeited, and
LOWS CASE OF TENURES.
279
jne grantee took forfeittre thereof, whereby it was pruxtmitm, no more than in the case of the absque
extinct; yet the rent remaineth as to tlie king out a/Z^uo reddendo, or as free as the crown; who
of the bailiwick extinct.
These two cases partly make not a]^ainst us,
and partly make for us: there be two differencef
Ihat avoid them. First, there the tenures or rents
are in esse in those cases for the king's benefit,
and here they should be in esse to the king's pre-
judice, who should otherwise have a more benefi-
cial tenure. Again, in these cases the first reser-
vation was of a thing in esse at the time of the
would not say that in those cases it should amount
to a soccage tenure '? for minimum est iiihilo prox-
imum : and yet they are tenures by knight's ser-
vice in capite. So if the king by one patent pass
two acres, and a fealty reserved but upon the one
of them, you shall not resort to this ut expressum
servitium regat, vel declaret taciturn. No more
shall you in our case imply that the express te-
nure reserved upon the manor shall govern, or
reservation ; and then there is no reason the act j declare the tenure of the tenancy, or control th
subsequent of the king's tenant should prejudice
the king's interest once vested and settled : but
here the reservation was never good, because it is
out of a thing extinct in the instant.
But the plain reason which turneth Carr'scase
mainly fur us, is, for that where the tenure is of a
rent or seigniory, which is afterwards drowned or
extinct in the land, yet the law judgelh the same
rent or seigniory to be in esse, as to support the
tenure: but of what? only of the said rent or
seigniory, and never of the land itself; for the
land shall be held by the same tenure it was be-
fore. And so is the rule of Carr's case, where it
is adjudged, that though the rentbeheld in capite,
yet the land was nevertheless devisable for the
whole, as no ways charged with that tenure.
Why, then, in our case, lot the fealty be reserved
out of the seigniory extinct, yet that toucheth not
at all the land : and then of necessity the land
must be also held ; and therefore you must seek
out a new tenure for the land, and that must be in
capite.
And let this be noted once for all, that our case
is not like the common cases of a menalty ex-
tinct, where the tenant shall hold of the lord, as
the mean held before; as where the menalty is
granteil to the tenant, or where the tenancy is
granted to the mean, or where the menalty de-
ecendeth to the tenant, or where the menalty is
forejudged. In all these cases the tenancy, I
grant, is held as the menalty was held before, and
the difference is because there was an old seisr-
intendment of law concerning the same.
Now will I answer the cases, which give some
shadow on the contrary side, and show they have
their particular reasons, and do not impugn our
case.
First, if the king have land by attainder of
treason, and grant the land to be held of himself,
and of other lords, this is no new tenure per
normam legis communis ; but the old tenure per
normam statuti, which taketh away the intend-
ment of the common law ; for the statute direct-
eth it so, and otherwise the king shall do a wrong.
So if the king grant land parcel of the demesne
of a manor iLiiendum de nobis, or reserving no
tenure at all, this is a tenure of the manor or of
the honour, and not in capite : for here the more
vehement presumption controlleth the less ; for
the law doth presume the king hath no intent to
dismember it from the manor, and so to lose his
court and the perquisites.
So if the king grant land tenendum
by a rose pro omnibus servitiis, this is
not like the cases of the absque aliquo inde red-
dendo, or as free as the crown ; for pro omnibus
servitiis shall be intended for all express service:
whereas, fealty is incident, and passeth tacit, and
so it is no impossible or repugnant reservation.
The case of the frankalmoigne, I jhi, ,, „„
mean the case where the king graVits f™"''*'"")!?"*-
lands of the Templers to J. S. to hold as the
Templers did, which cannot be frankalmoigne;
and yet hath been ruled to be no tenure by
niory in being; which remaineth untouched and knight's service in capite, but only
unaltered, save that it is drawn a degree nearer to I soccage tenure, is easily answered ;
the land, so as there is no question in the world | for that the frankalmoigne is but a species of a
of a new tenure ; but in our case there was no lord , tenure in soccage with a privilege, so the privilege
paramount, for the manor itself was in the crown, ceaseth, and the tenure remains.
and not held at all, nor no seigniory of the manor ! To conclude, therefore, I sum up my arguments
in esse; so as the question is wholly upon the | thus: My major is, where ca/awn/s /f^'/.s doth write
creation of a new seigniory, and not upon the con- j the tenure, it is knight's service in capite. My
tinuance of an old. i minor is, this tenure is left to the law ; ergo, this
For the third course, that the law shoi Id create , tenure is in capite.
a new distinct tenure by fealty of this parcel. For the second point, I will first speak of it
guided by the express tenure upon the manor; it according to the rules of the common law, and
is the probablest course of the three: but yet, if then upon the statutes of the duchy.
the former authorities I have alleirod be well un- j First, 1 do grant, that where a seigniory and a
derstood and marked, they show the law plainly, tenancy, or a rent and land, or trees and land, or
that it cannot be; for you shall ever take the the like primitive and secondary interest are con-
king's grant ad idem, and not ad simile, or ad joined in one person, yea, though it be in cutm
280
CASE OF REVOCATION OF USES.
droit; yet, if it be of like perdurable estate, they
are so extinct, as by act in law they may be
revived, but by g-rant they cannot.
For, if a man have a seigniory in his own right,
and the land descend to his wife, and his wife
dieth without issue, the seigniory is revived ; but
if he will make a feoffment in fee, saving his rent,
he cannot do it. But there is a great difference,
and let it be well observed, between autre capaci-
u'e and autre droit ,- for in case of autre capacitie
the interests are contigua, and not conlinua, con-
joined, but not confounded. And, therefore, if
the master of an hospital have a seigniory, and
the mayor and commonalty of St. Albans have
a tenancy, and the master of the hospital be
made mayor, and the mayor grant away the
tenancy under the seal of the mayor and com-
monalty, the seigniory of the hospital is revived.
So between natural capacity and politic, if a
man have a seigniory to him and his heirs, and a
bishop is tenant, and the lord is made bishop, and
the bishop, before the statute, grants away the
land under the chapter's seal, the seigniory is
revived.
The same reason is between the capacity of
the crown and the capacity of the duchy, which
is in the king's natural capacity, though illus-
trated with some privileges of the crown ; if the
king have the seigniory in the right of his crown,
and the tenancy in the right of the duchy, as our
case is, and make a feoffment of the tenancy, the
tenure must be revived ; and this is by the ground
of the common law. But the case is the more
strong by reason of the statute of 1 H. IV., 3 H. V.
and 1 H.VII.of theduchy, by which theduchy-seal
is enabled to pass lands of the duchy, but no ways
to touch the crown: and whether the king be in
Hctual possession of the thing that should pass,
or have only a right, or a condition, or a thing in
suspense, as our case is, all is one ; for that seal
I will not extinguish so much as a spark of that
which is in the right of the crown ; and so a plaii:
I revivor.
And if it be said that a mischief will follow, for
! that ui)on every duchy patent men shall not know
: how to hold, because men must go back to tbb
ancient tenure, and not rest on the terms limited ;
I for this mischief there grows an easy remedy,
I which, likewise, is now in use, which is to take
both seals, and then all is safe.
Secondly, as the king cannot under the duel ■»
seal grant away his ancient seigniory in the right
, of his crown, so he cannot make any new reser-
, vation by that seal, and so, of necessity, it falleth
I to the law to make the tenure ; for every reserva-
j tion must be of the nature of that that passeth, as
a dean and chapter cannot grant land of the chap-
1 ter, and reserve a rent to the dean and his heirs,
1 nor e convcrso .- nor no more can the king grant
land of tbe duchy under that seal, and reserve a
tenure to the crown : and therefore it is warily put
in the end of the case of the duchy in the commen-
taries, where it is said, if the king make a feoff-
ment of the duchy land, the feoffee shall hold in
capite ; but not a word of that it should be by way
of express reservation, but upon a feoffment sim-
ply, the law shall work it and supply it.
To conclude, there is direct authority in the
point, but that it is via versa ; and it was the
Bishop of Salisbury's case : the king had in the
right of the duchy a rent issuing out of land,
which was monastery land, which he had in the
I right of the crown, and granted away the land
\ under the great seal of the bishop ; and yet, never-
I theless, the rent continued to the duchy, and so
; upon great and grave advice it was in the duchy
j decreed : so, as your lordship seeth, whether you
! take the tenure of the tenancy, or the tenure of the
manor, this land must be held in capite. And,
therefore, &c.
CASE OF REVOCATION OF USES,
IN THE KING'S BENCH.
The Case, shortly put, without Names or Dates more
than of Necessity, is this.
Sir John Stanhope conveys the manor of Bur-
rough-ash to his lady for part of her jointure, and
intending, as is manifest, not to restrain himself,
nor his son, from disposing some proportion of
that land according to their occasions, so as my
lady were at no loss by the exchange, inserteth
into the conveyance a power of revocation and
alteration in this manner ; provided that it shall
be lawful for himself and his son successively to
alter and make void the uses, and to limit and
appoint new uses, so it exceed not the value of
twenty pounds, to be computed after the rents
then answered : and that immediately after such
CASE OF REVOCATION OF USES.
281
Jeclaration, or making void, the feoffees shall ;
stand seised to such new uses ; ita quod, her or
nis son, within six months after such declaration,
or making- void shall assure, within the same ;
town, tanlnin terrarum et tene mentor um, et similis
raloris, as were so revoked, to the uses expressed
i ■» the first conveyance.
Sir John Stanhoj)e, his son, revokes the land in
Burrough-ash, and other parcels not exceeding
the value of twenty pounds, and within six months
assures to my lady and to the former uses Burton-
joice and other lands; and the jury have found
that the lauds revoked contain twice so much in
number of acres, and twice so much in yearly
value, as the new lands, but yet that the new
lands are rented at twenty-one pounds, and find
the lands of Burrough-ash now out of lease for-
merly made : and that no notice of this new assu-
rance was given before the ejectment, but only
that Sir John Stanhope had, by word, told his
mother that such an assurance was made, not
showing or delivering the deed.
The question is, Whether Burrough-a§h be
well revoked 1 Which question divides itself
into three points.
First, whether the ita quod be a void and idle
clause ] for if so, then there needs no new assu-
rance, but the revocation is absolute /)cr se.
The next is, if it be an effectual clause, whe-
ther it be pursued or no T wherein the question
will rest, whether the value of the reassured lands
shall be only computed by rents ?-
And the third is, if in other points it should be
well pursued, yet whether the revocation can
work until a sufficient notice of the new as-
surance]
And I shall prove plainly, that Ha quod stands
well with the power of revocation; and if it
should fall to the ground, it draws all the rest of
the clause with it, and makes the whole void, and
cannot be void alone by itself.
I shall prove likewise that the value must needs
be accounted not a tale value, or an arithmetical
value by the rent, but a true value in quantity and
quality.
And, lastly, that a notice is of necessity, as this
case is.
I will not deny, but it is a great power of wit
to make dear things doubtful ; but it is the true
use of wit to make doubtful things clear, or, at
least to maintain things that are clear to be clear,
as they are. And in that kind I conceive my
labour will be in this case, which I hold to be a
case rather of novelty than difliculty, and, there-
fore, may require argument, but will not endure
much argument, but, to speak plainly to my
understanding, as the case hath no equity in it,
I might say piety, so it hath no great doubt in
law.
First, therefore, this it is, that I affirm that the
clause so that, ita quod, containing the recompense.
Vol. 111.-36
governs the clause precedent of the power, and
that it makes it wait and expect otherwise than
as by way of inception, but the effect and ope-
ration is suspended, till that part also be per-
formed ; and if otherwise, then I say plainly,
you shall not construe by fractions ; but the whole
clause and power is void, not in tanto, but in tola.
Of the first of them I will give four reasons.
The first reason is, that the wisdom of the law
useth to transpose words according to the sense ;
and not so much to respect how the words do
take place, but how the acts, which are guided
by those words, may take place.
Hill and Graunger's case, «omment. H,,|^„d
171. A man in August makes a lease, ^^"ro^'t
rendering ten pounds rent yearly to be '"•
paid at the feasts of Annunciation and Michael-
mas ; these words shall be inverted by law^as if
they had been set thus, at Michaelmas and the
Annunciation : for else ho cannot have a rent
yearly; for there will be fourteen months to the
first year.
Fitewilliams's case, 2 Jac. Co, p. 6, ntzn iiiiams-,
- _„ . ... . , case, 2 Jac. Co.
f. 33, It was contained in an indenture p. «, f. 33.
of uses, that Sir William Fitzwilliams should
have power to alter, and change, revoke, deter-
mine, and make void the uses limited : the words
are placed disorderly ; for it is in nature first to
determine the uses, and after to change them by
limitation of new. But the chief question being
in the book, whether it might be done by the same
deed ; it is admitted and thought not worth the
speaking to, that the law shall marshal the acts
against the order of the words, that is, first to
make void, then to limit.
So if I convey land and covenant with you to
make farther assurance, so that you require it of
me, there, though the request be placed last, yet
it must be acted first.
So if I let land to you for a term, and say, far-
ther, it shall be lawful for you to take tvi'enty
timber trees to erect a new tenement upon the
land, so that my bailiff do assign you where you
shall take them, here the assignment, though last
placed, must precede. And, therefore, the gram-
marians do infer well upon the word period, which
is a full and complete clause or sentence, that
it is compkxus orationis circularis .• for as in a
circle there is not prius nor postering, so in one sen-
tence you shall not respect the placing of words ;
but though the words lie in length, yet the sense
• is round, so as prima erunt novissima et novixsima
prima. For though you cannot speak all at once,
so, yet you must construe and judge upon all at
once.
To apply this ; I say these words, so that,
though loco et textu posteriora, yet they be potestate
et sensu priora : as if they had been penned thus,
that it shall be lawful for Sir Thomas Stanhope,
so that he assure lands, &c., to revoke ; and what
difference between, so that he assure, he inay
2 a2
282
CASE OF REVOCATION OF USES.
revoke; or, he may revoke, so that he assure;
for you must either make the " so that" to be pre-
cedent or void, as I shall tell you anon. And,
therefore, the law will rather invert the words
than pervert the sense.
But it will be said, that in the cases I put it is
left indefinite, when the act last limited shall be
performed ; and so the law may marshal it as it
may stand with possibility ; and so if it had been
in this case no more but, so that Sir Thomas or
John should assure new lands, and no time spoken
of, the law might have intended it precedent.
But in this case it is precisely put to be at any
time within six months after the declaration, and,
therefore, you cannot vary in the times.
To this I answer, that the new assurance must
be in deed in time after the instrument or deed of
the declaration ; but, on the other side, it nmst
be time precedent to the operation of the law, by
determining the uses thereupon; so it is not
to be applied so much to the declaration itself,
but to the warrant of the declaration. It shall be
lawful, so that, &c. And this will appear jiiore
plainly by my second reason, to which now I
come; for as for the cavillation upon the word
immediately, I will speak to it after.
My second reason, therefore, is out of the use
and signification of this conjunction or bond of
speech, " so that :" for no man will make any great
doubt of it, if the words had been si, if Sir Thomas
shall within six months of such declaration con-
vey; but that it must have been intended pre-
cedent; yet, if you mark it well, these words ita
quod and si, howsoever in propriety the ita quod
may seem subsequent, and the si precedent, yet
they both bow to the sense.
So we see in 4 Edw. VI. Colthurst's
Com.coi-' case a man leaseth to J. S. a house,
si ipse vellet habttare et residens esse ;
there the word si amounts to a condition subse-
quent; for he could not be resident before he took
the state ; and so, via versa may ita quod be pre-
cedent, for else it must be idle and void. But I
go farther, for I say ita quod, though it be good
words of condition, yet more properly it is neither
condition, precedent, nor subsequent, but rather
a qualification, or form, or adherent to the acts,
whereto it is joined, and made part of their es-
sence, which will appear evidently by other cases.
For, allow it had been thus, so that the deed of
declaration be enrolled within six months, this is
all one, as by deed enrolled within six months,
as it is said in Digg's case, 42 Eliz. f. 173, that
by deed indented to be enrolled is all
ii'v.wz ci. one with deed indented and enrolled.
It is but a morfus /«c?'enc?t, a description,
und of the same nature is the ita quod; so, if it
had been thus, it shall be lawful for Sir Thomas
lo declare, so that the declaration be with the con-
sent of my lord chief justice, is it not all one with
the more compendious form of penning, that Sir
Thomas shall declare with the consent of my lord
chief justice] And if it had been thus, so that
Sir John, within six months after such declaration,
shall obtain the consent of my lord chief justice,
should not the uses have expected I But these,
you will say, are forms and circumstances an-
nexed to the conveyance required : why, surely,
any collateral matter coupled by the ita quod is as
strong] If the ita quod had been, that Sir John
Stanhope within six months should have paid
my lady one thousand pounds, or entered into
bond never more to distui ^ her, or the like, all
these make but one entire idf a or notion, how that
his power should not be categorical, or simple, at
pleasure, but hypothetical, and qualified, and re-
strained, that is to say, not the one without the
other, and they are parts incorporated into the
nature and essence of the authority itself.
The third reason is, the justice of the law in
taking words so as no material part of the parties'
intent perish; for, as one s?i\\,\x, prsestat torquere
verba qtiam homines, better wrest words out of place
than my Lady Stanhope out of her jointure, that
was meant to her. And, therefore, it is elegantly
said in Fitzwilliams's case, which I vouched be-
fore, though words be contradictory, and, to use
the phrase of the book, pugnant tanquam ex dia-
metro ; yet the law delighteth to make atone-
ment, as well between words as between parties,
and will reconcile them so as they may stand, and
abhorreth a vacuum, as well as nature abhorreth
it; and, as nature, to avoid a vacuum, will draw
substances contrary to their propriety, so will the
law draw words. Therefore, saith Littleton, if I
make a feoffment reddendo rent to a stranger, this
is a condition to the feoffor, rather than it shall be
void, which is quite cross; it sounds a rent, it
works a condition, it is limited to a third person,
it inureth to the feoifor ; and yet the law favoureth
not conditions, but to avoid a vacuum.
So in the case of 45 E. III., a man
gives land in frank-marriage, the re-
mainder in fee. The frank-marriage is first put,
and that can be but by tenure of the donor; yet,
rather than the remainder should be void, though
it be last placed, the frank-marriage, being but a
privilege of estate, shall be destroyed.
So 33 H. VI., Tressham's case ; the king
granteth a wardship before it fall ; good, because
it cannot inure by covenant, and if it should not
be good by plea, as the book terms it, it were
void ; so that, no, not in the king's case, the law
will not admit words to be void.
So then the intent appears most plainly, that
this act of Sir John should be actus geminus, a
kind of twine to take back and to give back, and
to make an exchange, and not a resumption;
and, therefore, upon a conceit of repugnancy, to
take the one part, which is the privation of
my lady's jointure, and not the other, which is
the restitution or compensation, were a thing
CASE OF REVOCATION OF USES.
283
utterly injurious in matter, and absurd in con-
struction.
The fourth reason is out of the nature of the
conveyance, which is by way of use, and there-
fore ought to be construed more favourably, ac-
cording to the intent, and not literally or strictly ;
for although it be said in Frene and Dillon's case,
and in Fitzwilliams's case, that it is safe so to
construe the statute of 27 H. VIII. as that uses
may be made subject to the rules of the common
law, which the professors of the law do know,
and not to leave them to be extravagant and
irregular; yet, if the late authorities be well
marked, and the reason of them, .you shall find
this difference, that uses in point of operation are
reduced to a kind of conformity with the rules of
the common law, but that in point of exposition
of words they retain somewhat of their ancient
nature, and are expounded more liberally, accord-
ing to the intent; for with that part the statute
of 27 doth not meddle. And, therefore, if the
question be, whether a bargain and sale upon
condiuoji be good to reduce the state back with-
out »n entry ] or whether, if a man make a
feoiFnient in fee to the use of John a Style for
years, the remainder to the right heirs of John a
Downe, this remainder be good or no] these
cases wall follow the grounds of the common
law for possessions, in point of operation; but so
will it not be in point of exposition.
For if I have the manor of Dale and the manor
of Sale lying both in Vale, and I make a lease
for life of them both, the remainder of the manor
of Dale, and all other my lands in Vale to John
a Style, the remainder of the manor of Sale to
John a Downe, this latter remainder is void,
because it comes too late, the general words
having carried it before to John a Style. But put
it by way of use a man makes a feoffment in fee
of both manors, and limits the use of the manor
of Dalrt, and all the other lands in Vale to the
use of himself, and his wife for her jointure, and
of the manor of Sale to the use of himself alone.
Now his wife shall have no jointure in
The case «in«, /.r^, , ..,,
mamirof the mauor of bale, and so was it judged
in the case of the manor of Odiam.
And therefore our case is more strong, being by
way ot use, and you may well construe the latter
part to control and qualify the first, and to make
it attend and expect; nay, it is not amiss to see
41 Eiiz. Co p.*he case of Peryman, 41 Eliz. Coke,
5,f.fe4. p_ 5^ {■_ gj^ where by a custom a livery
may expect; for the case was, that in the manor
of Porchester the custom was, that a feoffment
of land should not be good, except it were pre-
sented within a year in the court of the manor,
and tiiere ruled that it was but actus inchnatus, till
it was presented; now, if it be not merely against
reason of law, that so solemn a conveyance as
livery, which keeps state, I tell you, and will not
wait, should expect a farther perfection, a fortiori.
may a conveyance in use or declaration of use
I receive a consummation by degrees, and several
acts.- And thus much for the main point.
! Now, for the objection of the word immediate,
it is but light and a kind of sophistry. They
I say that the words are, that the uses shall risu
immediately after the declaration, and we would
have an interposition of an act between, namely,
that there should be a declaration first, then a
new assurance within the six montlis ; and, lastly,
the uses to rise: whereunto the answer is easy;
for we have showed before that the declaration
and the new assurance are in the intent of him
that made the conveyance, and likewise, in eye of
law, but as one compounded act. So as immedi-
ately after the declaration must be understood of
a perfect and effectual declaration, with the
adjuncts and accouplements expressed.
So we see in 49 E. III. f. 11, if a
man be attainted of felony, that holds
lands of a common person, the king shall have
his year, day, and waste; hut when] Not
before an office found ; and yet the words of the
statute of prscrogatioa regis are, rex habebii
catalla felonum, et si ipsi habent libtrum ienenien-
tum, stutim capiatur in manus domini, et rex habebit
annum, diem et vastum: and here the word stalim
is understood of the effectual and lawful time,
that is, after office found.
So in 2 H. IV. f. 17, it appears
that by the statute of Acton Burnell,
if the debt be acknowledged, and the day past
that the goods of the debtors shall be sold statim.
in French maintenant ; yet, nevertheless, this
statim shall not be understood before the process
of law requisite passed, that is, the day comprised
in the extent.
So it is said 27 II. VIII. f. 19, by ^^^^^^
Audley the chancellor, that the pre-
sent tense shall be taken for the future ; a fortiori,
say I, the immediate future tense may be taken
for a distant future tense; as if I be bound that
my son, being of the age of twenty-one years,
shall marry your daughter, and that he be now of
twelve years; yet this shall be understood, when
he shall be of the age of twenty-one years. And
so in our case immediately after the declaration
is intended when all things shall be performed,
that are coupled with the said declaration.
I But in this I doubt I labour too much; for no
man will be of opinion, that it was intended that
the Lady Stanhope should be six whole months
without either the old jointure or the new; but
that the old should expect until the new were set-
tled without any interim. And so I conclude
this course of atonements, as Fitzwilliams's case
calls it, whereby I have proved, that all the
words, by a true marshaling of the acts, may stand
according to the intent of the parties.
I may add tanquam ex abundarii, that if botli
clauses do not live together, they must both die
284
CASE OF REVOCATION OF USES.
together; for the law loves neither fractions of
estates nor fractions of constructions; and there-
jermiti and As- ^"'"^ •" Jermin and Askew's case,
kew,c.«. 3- j^^ijj.^ a man did devise lands in tail
with proviso, that if the devisee did attempt to
alien, his estate should cease, as if he were natu-
rally dead. Is it said there that the words, as if
he were naturally dead, shall be void, and the
words, that his estate snail cease, good 1 No,
but the whole clause shall be void. And it is all
one reason of a so that, as of an as if, for they
both suspend the sentence.
So if I make a lease for life, upon condition be
shall not alien, nor take the profits, shall this be
good for the first part, and void for the second 1
No, but it shall be void for both.
So if the power of declaration of uses had been
thus penned, that Sir John Stanhope might by his
deed indented declare new uses, so that the deed
were enrolled before the mayor of St. Albans,
who hath no power to take enrolments : or so that
the deed were made in such sort, as might not be
made void by Parliament: in all these and the
like cases the impossibility of the last part doth
strike upwards, and infect, and destroy the whole
clause. And, therefore, that all the words may
stand, is the first and true course; that all the
words be void, is the second and probable; but
that the revoking part should be good, and the
assuring part void, hath neither truth nor proba-
bility.
Now come I to the second point, how this value
should be measured, wherein, methinks, you are
as ill a measurer of values as you are an expounder
of words; which point I will divide, first consi-
dering what the law doth generally intend by the
word value; and, secondly, to see what special
words may be in these clauses, either to draw it
to a value of a present arrentation, or to under-
stand it of a just and true value.
The word value is a word well known to the
law, and therefore cannot be, except it be will-
ingly, misunderstood. By the common law
there is upon a warranty a recovery in value. I
put the case, therefore, that I make a feoffment in
fee with warranty of the manor of Dale, being
worth twenty pounds per annum, and then in
lease for twenty shillings. The lease expires,
for that is our case, though I hold it not needful, 1
the question is, whether, upon an eviction, th»"«
shall not be recovered from me land to the valu»{
of twenty pounds.
So if a man give land in frank-marriage then
rented at forty pounds and no moi'» worth, there
descendeth other lands, let perhvtps for a year or
two for twenty pounds, but worth eighty pounds,
shall not the donee be at liberty to put this land
in hotchpotch?
So if two parceners be in tail, and they make
partition of lands equal in rent, but far unequal in
value, shall this bind their issues 1 By no means ;
for there is no calendar so false to judge of values
as the rent, being sometimes improved, sometimes
ancient, sometimes where great fines have been
taken, sometimes where no fines; so as in point
of recompense you were as good put false weights
into the hands of the law, as to bring in this in-
terpretation of value by a present arrentation.
But this is not worth the speaking to in general ;
that which giveth colour is the special words in
the clause of revocation, that the twenty pounds'
value should be according to the rents ip.en
answered; and, therefore, that there should be a
correspondence in the computation likewise of the
recompense. But this is so far from countenancing
that exposition, as, well noted, it crosseth it; for
opposita jtixfa se posita magis elucescunt : first, it
may be the intent of Sir Thomas, in the first
clause, was double, partly to exclude any land in
demesne, partly knowing the land was double,
and as some say quadruple, better than the rent,
he would have the more scope of revocation under
his twenty pounds' value.
But what is this to the clause of recompense ?
first, are there any words secundum comptitalionern
praedidam? There are none. Secondly, doth
the clause rest upon the words similis vahria?
No, but joineth tanlum et similis valvris.- confound
not predicaments ; for they are the mere-stones of
reason. Here is both quantity and quality ; nay,
he saith farther, within the same towns. Why,
marry, it is somewhat to have men's possessions
lie about them, and not dispersed. So it must be
as much, as good, as near; so plainly doth the
intent appear, that my lady should not be a
loser.
[For the point of the notice, it was discharged
by the court.]
THE
JURISDICTION OF THE MARCHES.
IVie effect of the first argument nf the king's solicitor-
general, in maintaining the jurisdiction of the
council of the marches over the four shires.
The quostion for the present is only upon the
Rtatute of 32 11. VIII., and though it be a great
question, yet it is contracted into small room; for
it is but a true construction of a monosyllable, the
word march.
The exposition of all words resteth upon three
proofs, the propriety of the word, and the matter
precedent, and subsequent.
Matter precedent concerning the intent of those
that speak the words, and matter subsequent
touching the conceit and understanding of those
that construe and receive them.
First, therefore, as to vis termini, the force and
propriety of the word ; this word marches signi-
fieth no more but limits, or confines, or borders, in
Latin limites, or confinia, or cnntermina ; and thereof
was derived at the first marchio, a marquis, which
was comes limitaneus.
Now these limits cannot be linea imaginaria,
but it must have some contents and dimension,
and that can be no other but the counties adjacent ;
and for this construction we need not wander out
of our own state, for we see the counties of North-
umberland, Cumberland, and Westmoreland, late-
ly the borders upon Scotland. Now the middle
shires were commonly called the east, west, and
middle marches.
To proceed, therefore, to the intention of those
that made the statute, in the use of this word ; I
shall prove that the Parliament took it in this
sense by three several arguments.
The first is, that otherwise the word«ghould be
idle ; and it is a rule, verba sunt accipienda, ut
sortientur effectum .- for this word marches, as is
confessed on the other side, must be either for the
counties' marches, which is our sense, or the lord-
ships' marchers, which is theirs; that is, such
lordcihips, as by reason of the incursions and in-
festation of the Welsh, in ancient time, were not
under the constant possession of either dominion,
but like the bateable ground where the war played.
Now if this latter sense be destroyed, then all
equivocation ceaseth.
That it is destroyed appears manifestly, by the
statute of -21 H. V^III., mule seven years before
the statute of which we dispute; for by that sta-
tute all the lordships' marchers aie made ahirp
ground, being either annexed to the ancient coun-
ties of Wales, or to the ancient cou nties of England,
or erected into new counties, and mude parcel ot
the dominion of Wales, and so no more inarches
after the statute of 27 : so as there were no marches
in that sense at the time of the making of the
statute of 34.
The second argument is from the comparing of
the place of the statute, whereupon our doubt
riseth ; namely, that there shall be and remain a
lord president and council in the dominion of
Wales and the marches of the same, &c. with
another place of the same statute, where the word
marches is left out ; for the rule is, opposita juxta
se posita magis elucescunt. There is a clause in
the statute which gives power and authority to
the king to make and alter laws for the weal of
his subjects of his dominion of Wales ; there the
word marches is omitted, because it was not
thought reasonable to invest the king with a
power to alter the laws, which is the subjects'
birthright, in any part of the realm of England ;
and, therefore, by the omission of the word marches
in that place, you may manifestly collect the sig-
nification of the word in the other, that is to be
meant of the four counties of England.
The third argument which we will use is this:
the council of the marches was not erected by the
act of Parliament, but confirmed ; for there was a
president and council long before in E. IV. his
time, by matter yet appearing; and it is evident
upon the statute itself, that in the very clause
which we now handle it referreth twice to the
usage, as heretofore hath been used.
This, then, I infer, that whatsoever was the
king's intention in the first erection of this court,
was, likewise, the intention cf the Parliament in
the establishing thereof, because the Parliament
builded upon an old foundation.
The king's intention appeareth to have bail
three branches, whereof every of them doth mani-
festly comprehend the four shires.
I The first was the better to bridle the subject of
Wales, which at that time was not reclaimed •
and therefore it was necessary for the president
and council there to have jurisdiction and coni-
I mand over the EiKjlish shires; because tnai ly
I the aid of them, which were undoubted trood sub-
280
JURISDICTION OF THE MARCHES.
jects, they might the better grovern and suppress
chose that were douhtful subjects.
And if it be said, that it is true, that the four
shires were comprehended in the commission of
oyer and terminer, for the suppression of riots and
misdemeanors, but not for the jurisdiction of a
Court of Equity ; to that I answer, that their com-
mission of oyer and terminer was but gladius in
vagina, for it was not put in practice amongst
them; for even in punishment of riots and misde-
meanors, they proceed not by their commission
of oyer and terminer, by way of jury, but as a
council, by way of examination. And again it
was necessary to strengthen that court for their
better countenance with both jurisdictions, as well
civil as criminal, for gladius gladium juvat.
The second branch of the king's intention was
to make a better equality of commerce and inter-
course in contracts and dealings between the sub-
jects of Wales and the subjects of England ; and
this of necessity must comprehend the four shires ;
for, otherwise, if the subject of England had been
wronged by the Welsh on the side of Wales, he
might take his remedy nearer hand. But if the
subject of Wales, for whose weal and benefit the
statute was chiefly made, had been wronged by
the English in any of the shires, he might have
sought his remedy at Westminster.
The third branch of the king's intent was to
make a convenient dignity and state of the man-
sion and resiance of his eldest son, when he should
be created Prince of Wales, which likewise must
plainly include the four shires ; for otherwise to
have sent prima genitum regis to a government,
which, without the mixture of the four shires, as
things then were, had more pearl than honour or
command; or to have granted him only a power
of lieutenancy in those shires, where he was to
keep his state, not adorned with some authority
civil, had not been convenient.
So that here I conclude the second part of that
I am to say touching the intention of the Parlia-
ment precedent.
Now, touching the construction subsequent, the
rule is good, optimus legum interpres consuetudo ,•
for our labour is not to maintain a usage against a
statute, but by a usage to expound a statute ; for
no man will say but the word marches will bear
the sense that we give it.
This usage or custom is fortified by four nota-
ble circumstances ; first, that it is ancient, and not \
late or recent; secondly, it is authorized, and not
popular or vulgar; thirdly, that it hath been ad- j
mitted and quiet, and not litigious or interrupted; I
and, fourthly, when it was brought in question, '
which was but once, it hath been affirmed, judi-
cio cnntrovF.rso.
For the first, there is record of a president and
council, that hath exercised and practised juris-;
diction in these shires, as well sixty years before
the statute, namely, since 18 E. IV". as the like .
I number of years since; so that it is Janus hifrnns,
it hath a face backward from the statute, as well
as forwards.
i For the second, it hath received these allow-
ances by the practice of that court, by suits ori-
ginally commenced there, by remanding from the
courts of Westminster, when causes within those
shires have been commenced here above ; some-
times in chancery, sometimes in the Star Cham-
ber, by the admittance of divers great learned
men and great judges, that have been of that
council, and exercised that jurisdiction ; as at one
time Bromley, Morgan, and Brooks, being the
two chief justices, and chief baron, and divers
others ; by the king's learned council, which al-
ways were called to the penning of the king's
instructions ; and, lastly, by the king's instruc-
tions themselves, which, though they be not al-
ways extant, yet it is manifest that since 17 H.
VIII. , when Princess Mary went down, that the
four shires were ever comprehended in the in-
structions, either by name, or by that that amounts
to so much. So as it appears that this usage or
practice hath not been an obscure custom, prac-
tised by the multitude, which is many times er-
roneous, but authorized by the judgment and con-
sent of the state : for as it is vera vox to say,
maximus crroris pnpulus magisfer ,• so it is dura vox
to say, maximus erroris princeps magisfer.
For the third, it was never brought in question
till 16 Eliz. in the case of one Wynde.
And, for the fourth, the controversy being moved
in that case, it was referred to Gerrard, attorney,
and Bromley, solicitor, who was afterwards chan-
cellor of England, and had his whole state of liv-
ing in Shropshire and Worcester, and by them
reported to the lords of tlie council in the Star
Chaml)er, and upon their report decreed, and the
jurisdiction affirmed.
Lastly, I will conclude with two manifest
badges and tokens, though but external yet vio-
lent in demonstration, that these four shires were
understood by the word marches ; the one the
denomination of that council, which was ever in
common appellation termed and styled the council
of the marches, or in the marches, rather than the
council of W"ales, or in Wales, and dnomiimtio
est a digniore. If it had been intended of lord-
ships' marches, it had been as if one should have
called my lord mayor my lord mayor of the
suburbs. But it was plainly intended of the
four English shires, which indeed were the more
worthy.
And the other is of the perpetual resiance and
mansion of the council, which was evermore in
the shires; and to imagine that a court should not
have jurisdiction where it sitteth, is a thing utterly
improbable, for they should be tanquam piscis in
arido.
So as, upon the whole matter, I conclude that
the word marches in that olace, bv the natural
JURISDICTIOX OF TFIK MARCHES.
?87
nense, and true intent of the statute, is meant the
I'ciir bhires.
7Vie effect of thai that was spoken by Serjeant ITutton
and Serjeant Harris, in answer of the former ar-
gument, and for the excluding (f the jurisdiction
of the marches in the four shires.
That which they botli did deliver was reduced
to three heads :
The first to prove the use of the word marches
for lordships' marchers.
The second to prove the continuance of that use
of the word, after the statute of 27, that made the
lordships' marchers shire-grounds ; whereupon it
was inferred, that though the marches were de-
stroyed in nature, yet they remained in name.
The third was some collections they made upon
the statute of 34 ; whereby they inferred, that
that statute intended that word in that significa-
tion. ^
For the first, they did allege divers statutes
before 27 II. VIII., and divers book-cases of law
in print, and divers oflices and records, wherein
the word marches of Wales was understood of
the lordships' marchers.
Tiiey said farther, and concluded, that whereas
we show our sense of the word but rare, they
show theirs common and frequent; and whereas
we show it but in a vulgar use and acceptation,
they show theirs in a legal use in statutes, au-
thorities of books, and ancient records.
They said farther, that the example we brought
of marches upon Scotland was not like, but rather
contrary; for they were never called marches of
Scotland, but the marches of England : whereas,
ihe statute of 31 doth not speak of the marches
i.f England, but of the marches of Wales.
They said farther, that the county of Worcester
did in no place or point touch upon Wales, and,
therefore, that county could not be termed
marches.
To the second they produced three proofs ; first,
some words in the statute of 32 H. VIII., where
tlie statute, providing for a form of trial for trea-
son committed in Wales, and the marches thereof,
doth use tiiat word, which was in time after the
statute o' 27; whereby they prove the use of the
word continued.
The second proof was out of two places of the I
statute, whereupon we dispute, where the word '■
marches is used for the lordships' marchers. j
The third proof was the style and form of the '
commission of oyer and terminer CTen to this i
day, which run to give power and authority to the
president and council there, infra principalitat.
TVa/lix, and infra the four counties by name, with
this clause farther, et marchias Wallise eisdem \
cotnitalihus adjacenV : whereby they infer two
things strongly, the one that the marches of
Wales must needs be a distinct thing from the
four counties; the other that the word marches
was used for the lordships' marchers long after
both statutes.
They said farther, that otherwise the proceed-
ing, which had been in the four new erected
counties of Wales by the commission of oyer
and terminer, by force whereof many had been
proceeded with both for life and other ways,
should be called in (juestion, as coram nonjudice,
insomuch as they neither were part of the prin-
cipality of Wales, nor part of the four shires;
and, therefore, must be contained by the word
marches, or not at all.
For the third head, they did insist upon the
statute of 34, and upon the preamble of the same
statute.
The title being an act for certain ordinances in
the king's majesty's dominion and principality
of Wales; and the preamble being for the tender
zeal and affection that the king bears to his sub-
jects of Wales ; and, again, at the humble sui'
and petition of his subjects of Wales ; whereby
they infer that the statute bad no purpose to extend
or intermeddle with any part of the king's domi-
nions orsubjects, but only within Wales.
And for usage and practice, they said, it was
nothing against an act of Parliament,
And for the instructions, they pressed to see the
instructions immediately after the statute made.
And for the certificate and opinions of Gerrard
and Bromley, they said, they doubted not, but
that if it were now referred to the attorney and
solicitor, they would certify as they did.
And, lastly, thoy relied, as upon their principal
strength, upon the precedent of that, which was
done of the exempting of Cheshire from the late
jurisdiction of the said council; for they said,
that from 34 of II. VIII. until 11 of Queen Eliz.
the court of the marches did usurp jurisdiction
upon that county, being likewise adjacent to
Wales, as the other four are; but that in the
eleventh year of Queen Elizabeth aforesaid, the
same, being questioned at the suit of one Rad-
forde, was referred to the Lord Dyer, and three
other judges, who, by their certificate at large
remaining of record in the Chancery, did pro-
nounce the said shire to be exempted, and that in
the conclusion of their certificate they gave this
reason, because it was no part of the principality
or marches of Wales. By which reason, they
say, it should appear their opinion was, that the
word marches could not extend to counties adja-
cent. This was the substance of their defence.
TVte reply of the king^s solicitor to the argiunetiii
of the tivo Serjeants.
Having divided the substance of their argo-
ments, ut supra, he did pursue the same division
in his reply, observing, nevertheless, both a great
redundancy and a great defect in that wh ch was
288
JURISDICTION OF THE MARCHES.
spoken. For, touching the use of the word
inarches, great labour had been taken, wbich was
not denied : but touching the intent of the Parlia-
ment, and the reasons to demonstrate the same,
which were the life of the question, little or
nothing had been spoken.
And, therefore, as to the first head, that the
word marches had been often applied to the
lordships' marchers, he said it was the sophism
which is called sciomachia, fighting with their
shadows ; and that the sound of so many statutes,
so many printed book-cases, so many records,
were nomina magna, but they did not press the
question ; for we grant that the word marches had
significations, sometimes for the counties, some-
times for the lordships' marchers, like as Nor-
thampton and Warwick are sometimes taken for
the towns of Northampton and Warwick, and
sometimes for the counties of Northampton and
"Warwick. And Dale and Sale are sometimes
taken for the villages or hamlets of Dale and
Sale, and sometimes taken for the parishes of
Dale and Sale: and, therefore, that the most part
of that they had said went not to the point.
To that answer, which was given to the exam-
ple of the middle shires upon Scotland, it was
said, it was not ad idem ; for we used it to prove
that the word marches may and doth refer to
whole counties; and so much it doth manifestly
prove ; neither can they deny it. But, then, they
pinch upon the addition, because the English
counties adjacent upon Scotland are called the
marches of England, and the English counties
adjacent upon Wales are called the marches of
Wales; wbich is but a difference in phrase; for
sometimes limits and borders have their names
of the inward country, and sometimes of the out-
ward country ; for the distinction of exclusive and
inclusive is a distinction both in time and place;
as we see that that which we call this day fort-
night, excluding the day, the French and the law
phrase calls this day fifteen days, or guindcna,
including the day. And if they had been called
the marches upon Wales, or the marches against
Wales, then it had been clear and plain; and
what difference between the banks of the sea and
the banks against the sea? So that he took this
to be but a toy or cavillation, for that phrases of
speech are ad placiium, et recipiunt casum.
As to the reason of the map, that the county of
Worcester doth no way touch upon Wales, it is
true; and I do find when the lordships' marchers
were annexed, some were laid to every other of
the three shires, but none to Worcester. And no
doubt but this emboldened Wynde to make the
claim to Worcester, which he durst not have
thought on for any of the other three. But it falls j
out well that that which is the weakest in proba-
bility, is strongest in proof; for there is a case
ruled in that more than in the rest. But the true
reason is, that usage must overrule propriety of
speech ; and, therefore, if all commissions, and
instructions, and practices, have coupled these
four shires, it is not the map that will sever them
To the second head he gave this answer. Firs:
he observed in general that they had not showed
one statute, or one book-case, or one record, the
commissions of oyer and terminer only excepted,
wherein the word marches was used for lordships'
marchers since the statute of 34. So that it is
evident, that as they granted the nature of those
marches was destroyed and extinct by 27, so the
name was discontinued soon after, and did but
remain a very small while, like the sound of a
bell, after it hath been rung; and as indeed it is
usual when names are altered, that the old name,
which is expired, will continue for a small time.
Secondly, he said, that whereas they had made
the comparison, that our acceptation of the word
was popular, and theirs was legal, because it was
extant in book-cases, and statutes, and records,
they must needs confess that they are beaten from
that hold ; for the name ceased to be leg;d clearly
by the law of 27, which made the alteration in
the thing itself, whereof the name is but a sha-
dow; and if the name did remain afterwards,
then it was neither legal, nor so much as vulgar,
but it was only by abuse, and by a tn^ne or
catachresis.
Thirdly, he showed the impossibility how that
signification should continue, and be intended by
the statute of 34. For if it did, it must be in one
of these two senses, either that it was meant of
the lordships' marchers made part of Wales, oi
of the lordships' marchers annexed to the foui
shires of Pmgland.
For the first of these, it is plainly impugned by
the statute itself; for the first clause of the statute
doth set forth that the principality and dominion
of Wales shall consist of twelve shires: wherein
the four new erected counties, which were for-
merly lordships' marchers, and whatsoever else
was lordships' marchers annexed to the ancient
counties of W'ales, is comprehended; so that o/
necessity all that territory or border must be
Wales; then followeth the clause immediately,
whereupon we now differ, namely, that there shall
be and remain a president and council in the prin-
cipality of Wales, and the marches of the same;
so that the Parliament could not forget so soon
what they had said in the clause next before : and
therefore by the marches, they meant somewhat
else besides that which was Wales. Then, if
tliey fly to the second sigrnification, and say that
it was meant bv the lordships' marchers annexed
to the four English shires, that device is merely
nupcr nala ora/io, a mere fiction and invention o(
wit, crossed by the whole stream and current of
practice; for, if that were so, the jurisdiction of
the council should be over part of those shires,
and in part not; and then in the suits commenced
against any of the inhabitants of the four shirps.
THE JURISDICTION OF THE MARCHES.
289
it ounrht to have been laid or showed that they
dwelt within the ancient lordships' marchers,
whereof there is no shadow that can be showed.
Then he proceeded to the three particulars.
And (or the statute of 32, for trial of treason, he
said it was necessary that the word marches
should he added to VValt^s, for which he gave this
reason, that the statute did not only extend to the
trial of treasons, which should be committed after
the statute, but did also look back to treasons
committed before : and, therefore, this statute
being made but five years after the statute of 27,
that extiniruished the lordships' marchers, and
looking hack, as was said, was fit to be penned
with words that might include the preterperfect
tense as well as the present tense; for if it had
rested only upon the word Wales, then a treason
committed before the lordships' marchers were
made part of Wales might have escaped the law.
To tliis also another answer was given, which
was, that the word marches as used in that statute,
could not be referred to the four shires, because
of the words following, wherewith it is coupled,
namely, in Wales, and the marches of the same,
where the king's writ runs not.
To the two places of the statute of 31 itself,
wherein the word marches is used for lordships'
marchers; if they be diligently marked, it is
merely sophistry to allege them ; for both of them
do speak by way of recital of the time past before
the statute of 27, as the words themselves being
read over will show without any other enforce-
ment ; so that this is still to use the almanac of
the old year with the new.
To the commissions of oyer and terminer,
which seemeth to be the best evidence they show
for the continuance of the name in that tropical or
abused sense, it might move somewhat, if this
form of penning those commissions had been
begun since the statute of 27. But we show forth
the commission in 17 H. VIII., when the Princess
Mary went down, running in the same manner
verbatim, and in that time it was proper, and
could not otherwise be. So that it appeareth that
it was but merely a facsimile, and that notwith-
standing the case was altered, yet the clerk of the
crown pursued the former precedent; hurt, it did
none, for the word marches is there superfluous.
And whereas it was said, that the words in
those cominissions were effectual, because else
the ])roceeding in the four new erected shires of
Wales should be coram non judtce, that objection
carrielh no colour at all ; for it is plain, they have
authority by the word principality of Wales,
without adding the word marches; and that is
proved by a number of places in the statute of j
34, where, if the word Wales should not compre- [
bend those shires, they should be excluded in ;
effect of the whole benefit of that statute; for
the word marches is never added in any of these
jdaces. j
Vol.. HI 37
To the third head touching the true intent of
the statute, he first noted how naked their proof
was in that kind, which was the life of the ques-
tion, for all the rest was but in likra et in
cortice.
He observed also that all the strength of our
proof, that concerned that point, they had passed
over in silence, as belike not able to answer: for
they had said nothing to the first intentions of
the erections of the court, wheretipon the Parlia-
ment built: nothing to the diversity of penning,
which was observed in the statute of 34, leaving
out the word marches, and resting upon the word
Wales alone: nothing to the resiance, nothing to
the denomination, nothing to the continual practice
before the statute and after, nothing to the king's
instructions, &c.
As for that, that they gather out of the title
and preamble, thai the statute was made for
Wales, and for the weal and government of
Wales, and at the petition of the subjects of
Wales, it was little to the purpose; for no man
will affirm on our part the four English shires
were brought under the jurisdiction of that coun-
cil, either first by the king, or after by the Parlia-
ment, for their own sakes, being in parts no
farther remote ; but it was for congruity's sake,
and for the good of Wales, that that commixture
was requisite : and turpis est pars, quae non con-
gruit cum toto. And therefore there was no rea-
son that the statute should be made at their peti-
tion, considering they were not primi in inten-
tione, but came ex amscquenii.
And whereas they say that usage is nothing
against an act of Parliament, it seems they do
voluntarily mistake, when they cannot answer;
for we do not bring usage to cross an act of Par-
liament, where it is clear, but to expound an act
of Parliament, where it is doubtful, and evermoie
contemporanea interpreiatio, whether it be of sta-
tute or Scripture, or author whatsoever, is of
greatest credit: for to come now, above sixty
years after, by subtilty of wit to expound a
statute otherwise than the ages immediately suc-
ceeding did conceive it, is expositio contentiusoy
and not naturalis. And whereas they extenuate
the opinion of the attorney and solicitor, it is not
so easy to do ; for, first, they were famous men ;
and one of them had his patrimony in the shires;
secondly, it was of such weight as a decree of
the council was grounded upon it; and, thirdly,
it was not unlike, but that they had conferred
with the judges, as the attorney and solicitor do
often use in like cases.
Lastly, for the exemption of Cheshire he gave
this answer. First, that the certificate in the
whole body of it, till within three or four of ilie
last lines, doth rely wholly upon that reason,
because it was a county palatine: and to speak
truth, it stood not with any great sense or propor-
tion, that that place whiih was privileged and
2B
290
THE JURISDICTION OF THE MARCHES.
exempted from the jurisdiction of the courts of
Westminster, should be meant by the Parliament
to be subjected to the jurisdiction of that council.
Secondly, he said that those reasons, which
we do much insist upon for the four shires, hold
not for Cheshire, for we say it is fit the subject
of Wales be not forced to sue at Westminster,
but have his justice near hand ; so may he have
in Cheshire, because there is both a justice for
common law and a chancery ; we say it is conve-
nient for the prince, if it please the king to send
hiin down, to have some jurisdiction civil as well
as for the peace; so may he have in Cheshire, as
Earl of Chester. And therefore those grave men
had great reason to conceive that the Parliament
did not intend to include Cheshire.
And whereas they pinch upon the last words
in the certificate, namely, that Cheshire was no
part of the dominion, nor of the marches, they
must supply it with this sense, not within the
meaning of the statute; for otherwise the judges
could not have discerned of it; for they were not
to try the fact, but to expound the statute ; and
that they did upon those reasons, which were
special to Cheshire, and have no affinity with the
four shires.
And, therefore, if it be well weighed, that cer-
tificate makes against them; for as exceptio Jirmai
elgem in casihus non exceptis, so the excepting of
that shire by itself doth fortify, that the rest of the
shires were included in the very pointof difference.
After this he showed a statute in 18 Eiiz. by
which provision is made for the repair of a bridge
called Chepstowbridge, between Monmouth and
Gloucester, and the charge lay in part upon
Gloucestershire; in which statute there is a
clause, that if the justices of peace do not their
■Juty in levying of the money, they shall forfeit
five pounds to be recovered by information before
the council of the marches; whereby he inferred
that the Parliament would never have assigned
the suit to that court, but that it conceived Glou-
cestershire to be witliin the jurisdiction thereof.
And therefore he concluded that here is in the
nature of a judgment by Parliament, that the
shires are within the jurisdiction.
The third and last argument of the king^s solid fnr in
the case of the marches, in reply to Serjeant Harris.
This case groweth now to some ripeness, and I
am glad we have put the other side into the right
way ; for in former arguments they laboured little
ui)on tlie intent of the statute of 34 H. VIII., and
busied themselves in effect altogether about the
force and use of the word marches ; but now find-
ing that litera mortua non prodcsf, they offer at the
true state of the question, which is the intent :. I
Hm determined, therefore, to reply to them in their
own order, ut manifesfum sit, as he saith, me nihil
nui subterfugere voluisse relicendo, out obscurare
dicenaii.
All which hath been spoken on their pan coi»
sisteth upon three proofs.
The first was by certain inferences to prove the
intent of the statute.
The second was to prove the use of the word
marches in their sense long after both statutes;
both that of 27, which extinguished the lordships'
marchers, and that of 34, whereupon our question
ariseth.
The third was to prove an interruption of that
practice and use of jurisdiction, upon which we
j mainly insist, as the best exposition of the statute.
For the first of these, concerning the intention,
they brought five reasons.
The first was that this statute of 34 was ground-
ed upon a platform, or preparative of certain ordi-^
nances made by the king two years before,
namely, 32 ; in which ordinances there is the
very clause, whereupon we dispute, namely. That
there should be and remain in the dominion and
principality of Wales a president and a council :
in which clause, nevertheless, the word marches is
left out, whereby they collect that it came into
the statute of 34 but as a slip, without any farther
reach or meaning.
The second was, that the mischief before the
statute, which the statute means to remedy, was,
that Wales was not governed according to simili-
tude or conformity v/ith the laws of England.
And, therefore, that it was a cross and perverse
construction, when the statute laboured to draw
Wales to the laws of England, to construe it, that
it should abridge the ancient subjects of England
of their own laws.
The third was, that in a case of so great im-
portance it is not like that if the statute had meant
to include the four shires, it would have carried it
in a dark general word, as it were nocfanter, but
would have named the shires to be compre-
hended.
The fourth was, the more to fortify the third
reason, they observed that the four shires are
remembered and named in several places of the
statute, three in number; and therefore it is not
like that they would have been forgotten in the
principal place, if they had been meant.
The fifth and last was, that there is no clause
of attendance, that the sheriffs of the four shires
should attend the lord president and the council ;
wherein there was urged the example "of the acts
of Parliament, which erected courts; as the court
of augmentations, the court of wards, the court of
survey ; in all which there are clauses of attend-
ance ; whereupon they inferred that evermore,
where a statute gives a court jurisdiction, it
strengtheneth it with a clause of attendance; and
therefore no such clause being in this statute, it is
like there was no jurisdiction meant. Nay, farther
they noted, that in this very statute for the justices
of Wales there is a clause of attendance from th«
sheriffs of Wales.
THE JURISDICTION OF THE MARCHES
2m
In answer to their first reason, thej' do very
well, in my opinion, to consider Mr. Attorney's
business and mine, and therefore to find out for
us evidence and proofs, which we have no time
to search ; for certainly nothintj can make more
for us than these ordinances, which they produce;
for the diversity of penning of that clause in the
ordinances, where the word marches is omitted,
and that clause in the statute where the word
marches is added, is a clear and perfect direction
what was meant hy that word. The ordinances
were made hy force and in pursuance of authority
given to the king by the statute of 27; to what
did the statute extend 1 Only to Wales. And,
therefore, the word marches in the ordinances is
left out; but the statute of 31 respected not only
Wales, but the commixed government, and, there-
fore, the word marches was put in. They might
have remembered that we built an argument upon
the difference of penning of that statute of 34
itself in the several clauses of the same; for that
in all other clauses, which concern only Wales,
the word marches is ever omitted ; and in that
clause alone thatconcernelh the jurisdiction of the
president and council, it is inserted. And this
our argument is notably fortified by that they now
show of the ordinances, wherein the very selfsame
clause touching the president and council, because
the king had no authority to meddle but with
Wales, the word marches is omitted. So that it
is most plain that this word comes not in by
chance or slip, but with judgment and purpose,
as an effectual word ; for, as it was formerly said,
oppositajuxfa seposita magts elucescunf ; and, there-
fore, I may likewise urge another place in the sta-
tute-which is left out in the ordinance ; for I find
there is a clause that the town of Uewdley, which
is confessed to be no lordships' marcher, but to lie
within the county of Worcester ; yet because it
was an exempted jurisdiction, is by the statute
annexed unto the body of the said county. First,
this shows that the statute of 34 is not confined to
Wales, and the lordships' marchers, but that it
intermeddles with Worcestershire. Next, do you
find any such clause in the ordinance of 32 1 No.
Why 1 Because they were appropriated to Wales.
So that, in tny opinion, nothing could enforce our
exposition better than the collating of the ordi-
nance of 32 with the statute of 34.
In answer to the second reason, the course that
I see often taken in this cause makes me think of the
phrase of the psalm, "starting aside like a broken
bow :" so, when they find their reasons broken,
they start aside to things not in question. For
now they speak, as if he went about to make the
four shires Wales, or to take from them the bene-
fit of the laws of England, or their being account-
ed amongst the ancient counties of England :
doth any man say that those shires are not within
the circuits of England, but subject to the justices
of Wales ^ or that they should send but one
knight to the Parliament, as the shires of Wales
do] or that they may not sue at Westminster, in
chancery, or at common law, or the likel No
man affirms any such things; we take nothing
from them, only we give them a court of sum-
mary justice in certain causes at their own doors.
And this is nova dodrina to make such an op-
position between law and equity, and between
formal justice and summary justice. For there
is no law under heaven which is not supplied
with equity ; {ox summum jus, summa injuria, or,
as some have it, summa lex, summa crux. And
therefore all nations have equity; but some have
law and equity mixed in the same court, which
is the worse; and some have it distinguished in
several courts, which is the better. Look into
any counties palatine, which are small models of
the great government of kingdoms, and you shall
never find any but had a chancery.
Lastly, it is strange that all other places do
require courts of summary justice, and esteem
them to be privileges and graces, and in this
cause only they are thought to be servitudes and
loss of birthright. The universities have a court
of summary justice, and yet I never heard that
scholars complain their birthright was taken from
them. The stannaries have them, and you have
lately affirmed the jurisdiction ; and yei you have
taken away no man's birthright. The court at
York, whosoever looks into it, was erected at the
petition of the people, and yet the people did not
mean to cast away their birthright. The court
of wards is mixed with discretion and equity;
and yet I never heard that infants and innocents
were deprived of their birthriofht. London, which
is the seat of the kingdom, hath a court of equity,
and holdeth it for a grace and favour : how then
Cometh this case to be singular] And therefore
these be new phrases and conceits, proceeding
of error or worse; and it makes me think that a
few do make their own desires the desires of the
country, and that this court is desired by the
greater number, though not by the greater sto-
machs.
In answer to the third reason, if men be con-
versant in the statutes of this kingdom, it will
appear to be no new thing to carry great matters
in general words without other particular express-
ing. Consider but of the statute of 26 H. VIII.
which hath carried estates tails under the general
words of estates of inheritance. Consider of the
statute of 16 R. II. of praemunire, and see what
great matters are thought to be carried under the
word alibi. And, therefore, it is an ignorant as-
sertion to say that the statute would have nameo
the shires, if it had meant them.
Secondly, the statute had more reason to pass
it over in general words, because it did not ordain
a new matter, but referreth to usage ; and thoug-b
the statute speaks generally, yet usage speaKs
plainly and particularly, which is the strongest
292
THE JURISDICTION OF THE MARCHES.
kind of utterance or expressing. Quid verba audiam
cum facta vhkarn.
And, thirdly, this argument of theirs may be
strongly retorted against them, for as they infer
that the shires were not meant, because they were
not included by name, so we infer that they are
meant, because they are not excepted by name, as
is usual by way of proviso in like cases : and our
inference hath far greater reason than theirs, be-
cause at the time of the making of the statute they
were known to be under the jurisdiction; and,
therefore, that ought to be most plainly expressed,
which should work a change, and not that which
should continue things as they were.
In answer to their fourth reason, it makes like-
wise plainly against them ; for there be three
places where the shires be named, the one for the
extinguishing of the custom of gavelkind ; the
second for the abolishing of certain forms of as-
surance w^hich were too light to carry inheritance
and freehold ; the third for the restraining of cer-
tain franchises to that state they were in by a for
mer statute. In these three places the words of
the statute are, The lordships' marchers annexed
unto the counties of Hereford, Salop, &c.
Now mark, if the statute conceived the word
marches to signify lordships' marchers, what
needeth this long circumlocution ] It had been
easier to have said, within the marches. But be-
cause it was conceived that the word marches
would have comprehended the whole counties,
and the statute meant but of the lordships' march-
ers annexed ; therefore they were enforced to use
that periphrasis or length of speech.
In answer to the fifth reason I give two several
answers ; the one, that the clause of attendance
is supplied by the word incidents ; for the clause
of establishment of the court hath that word,
" with all incidents to the same as heretofore hath
been used :" for execution is ever incident to jus-
tice or jurisdiction. The other because it is a
court, that standeth not by the act of Parliament
alone, but by the king's instructions, whereto the
act refers. Now, no man will doubt but the king
may supply the clause of attendance ; for if the
king grant forth a commission of oyer and termi-
ner, he may command what sheriff he will to at-
tend it; and therefore there is a plain diversity
between this case and the cases they vouch of the
court of wards, survey, and augmentations : for
they were courts erected de novo by Parliament,
and had no manner of reference either to usage or
instructions ; and therefore it was necessary that
the whole frame of those courts, and their authori-
ty both for judicature and execution, should be
described and expressed by Parliament. So was
it of the authority of the justices of Wales in the
stature of 34 mentioned, because there are many
nidinancps de novo concerning them : so that it
uas a new erection, and not a confirmation of
thera.
Thus have I, in confutation of their reasons,
greatly, as I conceive, confirmed our own, as it
were, with new matter; for most of that they have
said made for us. But as I am willing to clear
your judgments, in taking away the objections, so
I must farther pray in aid of your memory for
those things which we have said, whereunto they
have offered no manner of answer ; for unto all
our proofs which we made touching the intent of
the statute, which they grant to be the spirit and
life of this question, they said nothing: as not a
word to this; That otherwise the w^ord marches
in the statute should be idle or superfluous: not a
word to this ; That the statute doth always omit
the word marches in things that concern only
Wales : not a word to this ; That the statute did
not mean to innovate, but to ratify, and therefore
if the shires were in before, they are in still : not
a word to the reasonof the commixed government,
as that it was necessary for the reclaiming of
Wales to have them conjoined with the shires;
that it was necessary for commerce and contracts,
and properly for the ease of the subjects of Wales
against the inhabitants of the shires ; that it was
not probable that the Parliament meant the prince
should have no jurisdiction civil in that place,
where he kept his house. To all these things,
which we esteem the weightiest, there is a!t7iTn
silentium, after the manner of children that skip
over where they cannot spell.
Now, to pass from the intent to the word ; first,
I will examine the proof they have brought that
the word was used in their sense after the statute
27 and 34 ; then I will consider what is gained,
if they should prove so much : and, lastly, I will
briefly state our own proofs, touching the use of
the word.
For the first, it hath been said, that whereas I
called the use of the word marches, after the sta-
tute of 27, but a little chime at most of an old
word, which soon after vanished, they will now
ring us a peal of statutes to prove it ; but if it be
a peal, I am sure it is a peal of bells, and not a
peal of shot: for it clatters, but it doth not strike:
for of all the catalogue of statutes I find scarcely
one, save those that were answered in my former
argument ; but we may with as good reason aflirm
in every of them the word marches to be meant
of the counties' marches, as they can of the lord-
ships' marchers: for to begin upwards :
The statute 39 Eliz. for the repair of Wilton
Bridge, no doubt doth mean the word m-irchesfor
the counties ; for the bridgre itself is in Hereford-
shire, and the statute imposeth the charge of re-
paration upon Herefordshire by compulsory means,
and permittPth benevolence to be taken in Wales,
and the marches; who doubts, but this meant of
the other three shires, which have far greater use
of the bridcre than the remote counties of Wales 1
P'or the statute 5 Eliz., concerning perjury, it
hath a proviso, that it shall not be prejudicial to
THE JURISDICTION OF THE MARCHES.
203
the council of the marches for punishinfr of per-
jury ; who can doubt but that here marches is
meant of the shires, considering the perjuries
cornuiiited in them have been punished in that
court as well as in Wales'?
F'or 2 E. VI. and the clause therein for restrain-
ing tithes of marriajfe portions in Wales and the
marches, why should it not be meant of counlies 1
For if any such customs had crept and encroached
into the body of the sliires out of the lordships'
marchers, no doubt the statute meant to restrain
them as well there as in the other places.
And so for the statute of 32 H. VIII. which
ordains that the benefit of that statute for distress
to be had by executors, should not extend to any
lordship in Wales, or the marches of the same
where mises are paid, because that imports a
greneral release ; what absurdity is there, if there
the marches be meant for the whole shires'? for
if any such custom had spread so far, the reason
of the statute is alike.
As for the statutes of 37 H. VIII. and 4 E. IV.
for the making and appointing of the custos
rotuhrum, there the word marches must needs
be taken for limits, according to the etymology
and derivation ; for the words refer not to Wales,
but are thus, within England and Wales, and
other the king's dominions, marches, and terri-
tories, that is, limits and territories ; so as I see
no reason but I may truly maintain my former
assertion, that after the lordships' marchers were
extinct by the statute of 27, the name also of
marches was discontinued, and rarely if ever used
in that sense.
But if it should be granted that it was now and
then used in that sense, it helps them little; for
first it is clear that the legal use of it is gone, when
tne thing was extinct, for nomen est ret nomen ,•
so it remains but abusive, as if one should call
Guletta Carthage, because it was once Carthage;
and, next, if the word should have both senses,
and that we admit an equivocation, yet we so
overweigh them upon the intent, as the balance
is soon cast.
Yet one thing I will note more, and that is,
that there is a certain confusion of tongues on the
other side, and that they cannot well tell them-
selves what they would have to be meant by the
•word marches ; for one while they say it is meant
for the lordships' marchers generally, another
while thoy say that it is meant for the inward
marches on Wales's side only ; and now at last
they are driven to a poor shift, that there should
be left some little lordship marcher in the dark,
as casus omissus, not annexed at all to any coun-
ty ; but if they would have the statute satisfied
upon that only, I say no more to them, but aquila
nnn capit muscas.
Now I will briefly remember unto you the state
of our proofs of the word.
First, according to the laws of speech we prove
it by the etymology or derivation, because march
is the Saxon word for limit, and marchio is
comes limitaneus ,- this is the opinion of Camden
and others.
Next, we prove the use of the word in the like
case to be for counties, by the example of the
marches of Scotland : for as it is prettily said in
Walker's case by Gawdy, if a case have no cou-
sin, it is a sign it is a bastard, and not legitimate ;
therefore, we have showed you a cousin, or rather
a brother, here within our own island, of the like
use of the word. And whereas a great matter
was made that the now middle shires were never
called the marches of Scotland, but the marches
of England against Scotland, or upon Scotland, it
was first answered that that made no difference ;
because sometimes the marches take their name
of the inward country, and sometimes of the out
country ; so that it is but inclusive and exclusive:
as for example, that which we call in vulgar
speech this day fortnight, excluding the day, that
the law calls quindena, including the day ; and
so, likewise, who will make a difference between
the banks of the sea, and the banks against the
sea, or upon the sea '? But now, to remove all
scruple, we show them Littleton in his chapter
Of Grand Serjeantry, where he saith, there is a
tenure by cornage in the marches of Scotland ;
and we show them likewise the statute of 25 E.
III., Of Labourers, where they are also called the
marches of Scotland.
Then we show some number of bills exhibited
to the council there before the statute, w,here the
plaintiffs have the addition of place confessed
within the bodies of the shires, and no lordships'
marchers, and yet are laid to be in the marches.
Then we show divers accounts of auditors in
the duchy from H. IV. downwards, where the
endorsement is in marchiis Wallix, and the con-
tents are possessions only of Hereford and Glou-
cestershire, (for in Shropshire and Worcestershire
the duchy hath no lands;) and whereas, they
would put it off with a cuique in sua arte credent
dum, they would believe them, if it were in matter
of accounts; we do not allege them as auditors,
but as those that speak English to prove the com-
mon use of the word, loquendum ut vulgus.
We show, likewise, an ancient record of a
patent to Herbert, in 15 E. IV., where Kilpeck
is laid to be in com. Hereford in marchiis Wallix ;
and, lastly, we show again the statute of 27 E.
III., where provision is made that men shall
labour in the summer where they dwell in the
winter; and there is an exception of the people
of the counties of Stafford and Lancashire, &c.,
and of the marches of Wales and Scotland ;
where it is most plain that the marches of Wales
are meant for counties, because they are coupled
both with Stafford and Lancashire, which are
counties, and with the marches of Scotland,
which are likewise counties; and, as it is iiiforoi
2 b2
294
THE JURISDICTION OF THE MARCHES.
ed, the labourers of those four shires do come
fi)rth of their shires, and are known by the name
of Cokers to this day.
To this we add two things, which are worthy
consideration ; the one, that there is no reason to
put us to the proof of the use of this word
marclies sixty years ago, considering that usage
speaks for us; the other, that there ought not to
be required of us to show so frequent a use of
the word marches of ancient time in our sense,
as they showed in theirs, because there was not
the like occasion : for, when a lordship marcher
was mentioned, it was of necessity to lay it in
the marches, because they were out of all coun-
ties; but when land is mentioned in any of these
counties, it is superfluous to add, in the marches ;
so as there was no occasion to use the word
marches, but either for a more brief and compen-
dious speech to avoid the naming of the four
shires, as it is in the statute of 25 E. III., and in
the endorsement of accounts ; or to give a court
cognisance and jurisdiction, as in the bills of
complaint ; or, ex abundanti, as in the record of
Kilpeck.
There resteth the third main part, whereby they
endeavour to weaken and extenuate the proofs
which we offer touching practice and possession,
wherein they allege five things.
First, that Bristol was in until 7 Eliz., and then
exempted.
Secondly, that Cheshire was in until 11 Eliz.,
and then went out.
Thirdly, they allege certain words in the in-
structions to Cholmley, vice-president, in 11
Eliz., at which time the shires were first com-
prehended in the instructions by name, and in
these words, annexed by our commission : where-
upon they would infer that they wore not brought
in the statute, but only came in by instructions,
and do imagine that when Cheshire went out
they came in.
Fourthly, they say that the intermeddling with
those four shires before the statute, was but a
usurpation and toleration, rather than any lawful
and settled jurisdiction; and it was compared to
that, which is done by the judges in their circuits,
who end many causes upon petitions.
Fifthly, they allege Sir John Mullen's case,
■where it is said consueiudo non prarjtidicat veritati.
There was moved, also, though it were not by
the council, but from the judges themselves, as
an extenuation, or at least an obscuring of the
proofs of the usage and practice, in that we show
<i)rth no instructions from 17 H. VIII. to 1 MarisR.
To these six points I will give answer, and, as
1 conceive, with satisfaction.
For Bristol, I say it teacheth them the right
way, if they can follow it; for Bristol was not]
exempt by any opinion ■'f law, but was left out I
of the instr'ictions upon supplication made to the I
queen. i
For Cheshire, we have answered it before, that
the reason was, because it *va3 not probable that
the statute meant to make that shire subject to the
jurisdiction of that council, considering it was
not subject to the high courts at Westminster, in
regard it was a county palatine. And, whereas
they said, that so was Flintshire too, it matcheih
not, because Flintshire is pamed in the statute
for one of the twelve shires of Wales.
We showed you likewise efli'ectual differences
between Cheshire and these other shires; for that
Cheshire hath a chancery in itself, and over Che-
shire the princes claim jurisdiction, as Earl of
Chester ; to all which you reply nothing.
Therefore, I will add this only, that Cheshire
yvewi oMt. secundo Jlumine, w'\i\\ the goodwill of
the state ; and this sought to be evicted advrrso
flumine, cross the state ; and as they have opinion
of four judges for the excluding of Cheshire, so
we have the opinion of two great learned men,
Gerrard and Bromley, for the including of Wor-
cester; whose opinions, considering it was but
matter of opinion, and came not judicially in
question, are not inferior to any two of the other;
but we say that there is no opposition or repug-
nancy between them, but both may stand.
For Cholmley's instructions, the words may
well stand, that those shires are annexed by com-
mission ; for the king's commission or instruc-
tions, for those words are commonly confounded,
must co-operate with the statute, or else they can-
not be annexed. But for that conceit that they
should come in but in 11, when Cheshire .vent
out, no man that is in his wits can be of that
opinion, if he mark it : for we see that the town
of Glocester, &c., is named in the instructions
of 1 Mar., and no man, I am sure, will think
that Glocester town should be in, and Glocester-
shire out.
For the conceit, that they had it but jurixdic
tionem precariam, the precedents show phiinly
the contrary; for they had coercion, and they did
fine and imprison, which the judges do not upon
petitions; and, besides, they must remember that
many of our precedents, which we did show forth,
were not of suits originally commenced there, but
of suits remanded from hence out of the king's
courts as to their proper jurisdiction.
For Sir John Mullen's case, the rule is plain
and sound, that where the law appears contrary,
usage cannot control law; which doth not at all
infringe the ru]e of optima legum inferpres consue-
tudo ; for usage may expound law, though it
cannot overrule law.
But of the other side I could show you many
cases, where statutes have been expounded di-
rectly against their express letter to uphold prece-
dents and usage, as ? and 3 Phil, et Mar. upon
the statute of Westminster, that ordained that the
judges coram quihiis formafum erif apprlhim shall
inquire of the damages, and yet the law ruled that
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
295
it shall be inquired before the judges of Nisi
Prius. And the great reverence given to prece-
dents aj)i)edretli in 39 H. VI. 3 E. IV. and a num.
ber of other books ; and the diirerence is exceed-
ingly well taken in Slade's case, Coke's Reports,
4, that is, where the usage runs but amongst
clerks, and where it is in the eye and notice of the
judge; for there it shall he presumed, saith the
book, that if the law were otherwise than the usage
hath gone, that either the council or the parties
would have excepted to it, or the judges ex officio
would have discerned of it, and found it; and we
have ready for you a calendar of judges more than
sit at this table, that have exercised jurisdiction
over the shires in that county.
As for exception, touching the want of certain
instructions, I could wish we had them ; but the
want of them, in my understanding, obscureth the
case little. For, let me observe unto you, that we
have three forms of instructions concerning these
shires extant; the first names them not expressly,
but by reference it doth, namely, that they shall
hear and determine, &c. within any of the places
or counties within any of their commissions ; and
we have one of the commissions, wherein they
were named ; so as upon the matter thoy are
named. And of this form are the ancient instruc-
tions before the statute of 17 H. VIII., when the
Princess Mary went down.
The second form of instructions go farther, for
they have the towns, and exempted places within
the counties named, with tanquani as well within
the city of Glocesler, the liberties of the duchy of
Lancaster, &c., as within any of the counties of
any of their commissions; which clearly admits
the counties to be in before. And of this form are
the instructions 1 Maria;, and so long until II Eliz.
And the third form, which hath been continued
ever since, hatli the shires comprehended by
name. Now, it is not to be thought, but the in-
structions which are wanting, are according to
one of these three forms which are extant. Take
even your choice, for any of them will serve to
prove that the practice there was ever authorized
by the instructions here. And so upon the whole
matter, I pray report to be made to his majesty,
that the president and the council hath jurisdic-
tion, according to his instructions, over the four
shires, by the true construction of the statute of
34 H. VIII.
LEARNED READING OF MR. FRANCIS BACON,
ONE OF IIER MAJESTY'S COUNSEL AT LAW,
THE STATUTE OF USES.
BEING HIS DOUBLE READING TO THE HONOURABLE SOCIETY OF GRAY'S INN.
42 ELIZ.
TheintrcJuc- ^ HAVE chosen to read upon the Sta-
.'""^ tuteof Uses, made 27 H. VIII. ch. 10,
a law whereupon the inheritances of this realm are
tossed at this day, like a ship upon the sea, in
such sort, that it is hard to say which bark will
sink, and which will get to the haven ; that is to
Reason of writ- Say, what assurances will stand good,
in;ih,sir«tib«. g^^j \^.|,a(; yvjH not. Neither is this
any lack or default in the pilots, the grave and
learned judges; but the tides and currents of re-
ceived error, and unwarranted and abusive experi-
ence have been so strong, as they were notable to
keep a right course according to the law, so as this
statute is in great part as a law made in the Par-
liament, held 35 Regina;; for, in 37 Resjinae, by
the notable judgment given upon jolemn argu-
ments o all the judges assembled in the Exche-
quer Chamber, in the famous case between Dillon
and Freine, concerning an assurance made by
Chudleigh, this law began to be re- ci.u.iieiijh'.
duced to a true and sound exposition, j2L'poph.''7i
and the false and perverted exposi- '•*■"'• *'<•
tion, which had continued for so many years,
but never countenanced by any rule or author-
ity of weight, but only entertained in a popu-
lar conceit, and put in practice at adventure
grew to be controlled; since which time (as it
Cometh to pass always upon tlie first reforming of
inveterate errors) many doubts and perplexed
questions have risen, which are not yet resolved,
nor the law thereupon settled : the consioeration
whereof moved me to take the occasion cf p^r-
296
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
forming this particular duty to the House, to see
if 1 could, by my travel, bring the exposition
thereof to a more general good of the common-
wealth.
Herein, though I could not be ignorant either
of the difficulty or" the matter, which he that
taketh in hand shall soon find, or much less of my
own unableness, which I had continual sense and
feeling of; yet, because I had more means of
absolution than the younger sort, and more leisure
than the greater sort, I did think it not impossible
to work some profitable effect; the rather because
where an inferior wit is bent and constant upon
one subject, he shall many times, with patience
and meditation, dissolve and undo many of the
knots, which a greater wit, distracted with many
matters, would rather cut in two than unknit :
and, at the least, if my invention or judgment be
too barren or too weak, yet, by the -benefit of
other arts, I did hope to dispose or digest the
authorities and opinions which are in cases of
uses in such order and method, as they should
take light one from another, though they took no
light from me. And like to the matter of my
reading shall my manner be, for my meaning is
to revive and recontinue the ancient form of read-
ing, which you may see in Mr. Frowicke's upon
the prerogative, and all other readings of ancient
time, being of less ostentation, and more fruit
than the manner lately accustomed : for the use
then was, substantially to expound the statutes
by grounds and diversities; as you shall find the
readings still to run upon cases of like law and
contrary law; whereof the one includes the learn-
ing of a ground, the other the learning of a differ-
ence; and not to stir conceits and subtle doubts,
or to contrive a multitude of tedious and intricate
cases, whereof all, saving one, are buried, and the
greater part of that one case which is taken, is
commonly nothing to the matter in hand ; but my
labour shall be in the ancient course, to open the
law upon doubts, and not to open doubts upon
the law.
EXPOSITIO STATUTI.
The exposition of this statute con-
sists upon matter without the statute,
and matter within the statute.
There be three things concerning
this statute, and all other statutes,
which are helps and inducements to the right
understanding of any statute, and yet are no part
of the statute itself.
1. The consideration of the case at the com-
mon law.
2. The consideration of the mischief which the
statute intendeth to redress, as also any other
mischief, which an exposition of the statute this
way or that way may breed.
3. Certain maxims of the common law, touch-
ing exposition of statutes.
The order of it.
3 Rep. 7. Hey-
Having therefore framed six divisions, accord,
ing to the number of readings upon the statute
itself, I have likewise divided the matter without
the statute into six introdnclions or discourses, sc
that for every day's reading I have made a triple
provision.
1. A preface or introduction.
2. A division upon the law itself.
3. A few brief cases for exercise and argu-
ment.
The last of which I would have forborne; and,
according to the ancient manner, you should
have taken some of my points upon my divisions,
one, two, or more, as you should have thought
good; save that I had this regard, that the
younger sort of the bar were not so conversant in
matters upon the statutes; and for that cause I
have interlaced some matters at the common law,
that are more familiar within the books.
1. The first matter I will discourse unto you
is the nature and definition of a use, and its incep-
tion and progression before the statute.
2. The second discourse shall be of the second
spring of this tree of uses since the statute.
3. The third discourse shall be of the estate of the
assurances of this realm at this day upon uses,
and what kind of them is convenient and reason-
able, and not fit to be touched, as far as the sense
of law and a natural construction of the statute
will give leave ; and what kind of them is incon-
venient and meet to be suppressed.
4. The fourth discourse shall be of certain
rules and expositions of laws applied to this pre-
sent purpose.
5. The fifth discourse shall be of the best
course to remedy the same inconveniences now
afoot, by construction of the statute, without
offering either violence to the letter or sense.
6. The sixth and last discourse shall be of the
course to remedy the same inconveniences, and
to declare the law by act of Parliament; which
last I think good to reserve, and not to publish.
The nature of a use is best discerned
by considering, first, what it is not, and uses be°fore the
then what it is ; for it is the nature of
all human science and knowledge to proceed
most safely, by negative and exclusion, to what*
is affirmative and inclusive.
First, a use is no right, title, or in-
. , lie •.. First.negatiTfl*
terest in law; and, thereiore. Master what it is not.
^ , , , , . 1 Rep. 121.
Attorney Coke, who read upon this chuJieigh't
statute, said well, that there are but '"*"
two rights.
Jus in re -• Jus ad rem.
The one is an estate, which is Jus in re the
other a demand, which is Jus ad rem .• but a use
is neither : so that in 24 H. VHI. it is b„. f^^^.
said that the saving of the statute of •<">«». p'- '•c
1 R. HI. which saveth any right or interest of
entails, must be understood of entails of the pos-
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
297
Br. Forfeiture,
14.
6 H. 4. 3.
session, and not of tlie part cf llie use, because
a use is no riirlit nor interest. So, again, you
see that Littleton's conceit, that a use should
amount to a tenancy at will, whereupon a release
miQ:hl well inure, because of privity, is controlled
6H 7 5 ^y ■* '"^"^^ ^^ ^^' ^l^M and divers other
16 H.i.i. books, which say that cestuy que use is
punishable in an action of trespass towards the
feoffees; only 5 H. V". seemeth to be
at some discord with other books,
where it is admitted for law, that if there be ceduy
que use of an advowson, and he be outlawed in a
personal action, the kinf( should have
the presentment; which case Master
Ewons, in the arjrument of Chudlei<rh's
case, did seek to reconcile thus : where cestuy
que uae, being- outlawed, had presented in his
own name, there the king should remove his in-
cumbent: but no such thing can be collected
upon the book : and, therefore, I con-
*" ceive the error grew upon this, that be-
cause it was generally thought, that a use was
but a pernancy, of profits; and then, again, because
the law is, that, upon outlaw in a personal action,
the king shall have the pernancy of the profits,
they took that to be one and the selfsame thing
cextuy que use had, and which the king was en-
titled unto ; which was not so; for the king had
remedy in law for his pernancy of the profits, but
cestuy que use had none. The books go further,
2H. 7. 4. ^"^ ^^Y' ^hat a use is nothing, as in 2
7H.7. 11, 12. H. VII. rfe< was brought and counted
sur leas for years rendering rent, &c. The de-
fendant pleaded in bar, that the plaintiff jiiktl
habuit tempore dimissiunis .• the plaintiff made a
special replication, and showed that he had a use,
and issue joined upon that; wherefore it appear-
eth, that if he had taken issue upon the defend-
ant's plea, it should have been found against
him. So again in 4 Reginae, in the
case of the Lord Sandys, the truth of
the cause was, a fine was levied by cestuy que
use before the statute, and this coming in question
since the statute upon an averment by the plaintiff
quod partes flints nihil habuerunt, it is said that the
defendant may show the special matter of the use,
and it shall be no departure from the first plead-
ing of the fine; and it is said farther, that the
form of averment given in 4 H. VII. quod partes
finis nihil habuerunt, ncc in possessione, nee in usu,
was ousted by this statute of 22 H. VIII. and was
no more now to be accepted ; but yet it appears,
that if issue had been taken ui)on the general
averment, without the special matter showed, it
should have been found for him that took the
averment, because a use is nothing. But these
books are not to be taken generally or grossly ;
for we see in the same books, that when a use is
specially alleged, the law taketh knowledge of
it ; but the sense of it is, that a use is nothing for
which remedy is given by the course of the com-
Vql. III.— 38
mon law, so as the law knoweth it, but protects it
not; and, therefore, when the question conieth,
whether it hath any being in nature or in con-
science, the law accepteth of it; and therefore
Littleton's case is good law, that he
that had but forty shillinofs freehold in 16H.7.13
1111 r ■ r :■"■ Ch. J.
use, shall be sworn of an inquest, for
that is ruled secundum dominium naturale, and not
secundum dominiam legilimum, nam natura dunii'
nus est, qui fructum ex re percipit. And so, no
doubt, upon subsidies and taxes cestuy
que use should have been valued as an
owner; so, likewise, if ces/wy que use had released
his use unto the feoffee for six pounds, or con-
tracted with a stranger for the like sum, there was
no doubt but it was a good condition r contract
whereon to ground an action upon the case for the
money : for a release of a suit in the chancery is a
good quid pro quo ,• therefore, to conclude, though
a use be nothing in law to yield remedy by course
of law, yet it is somewhat in reputation of law
and in conscience ; for that may be something in
conscience which is nothing in law, like as that
may be something in law which is nothing in
conscience ; as, if the feoffees had made a feoff-
ment over in fee, bona fide, upon good considera-
tion, and, upon a subpoena brought against them,
had pleaded this matter in chancery, this had
been nothing in conscience, not as to discharge
them of damages.
A second negative fit to be understood is, that
a use is no covin, nor it is no collusion, as the
word is now used ; for it is to be noted, that
where a man doth remove the estate and posses-
sion of lands or goods, out of himself unto another
upon trust, it is either a special trust, or a general
trust.
The special trust is either lawful or unlawful.
The special trust unlawful is, 'according to the
cases provided for by ancient statutes of fermours
of th3 profits; as where it is to defraud creditors,
or to get men to maintain suits, or to defeat the
tenancy to i\\e pr;i cipe, or the statute of mortmain,
or the lords of their wardships, or the like; and
those are termed frauds, covins, or collusions.
The special trust lawful is, as when I infeoff
some of my friends, because I am to go beyond
the seas, or because I would exempt the land
from some general statute, or bond, which I am
to enter into, or upon intent to be reinfeoffed, or
intent to be vouched, and so to suffer a common
recovery, or upon intent that the feoffees shall
infeoff over a stranger, and infinite the like intents
and purposes, which fall out in men's dealings
and occasions; and this we call confidence, and
the books do call them intents; but where the
trust is not special, nor transitory, but general
and permanent, there it is a use ; and therefore
these three are to be distinguished, and not
confounded ; the covin, the confidence, and
the use.
298
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
So as now we are come by negatives to the
affirmative, what a use is, agreeable to
irmjtivdy. the definition in Plowden, 352. In
chudieigh'i Barnard and Delamer's case, where it
case, Poi h. 1, . . , ,
72. DelaniCT'e IS Said : that
CTse, Plow, ^_ .. - .
343. 3j2. Use IS a trust reposed in any person
by the terre-tenant, that he may suffer
him to take the profits, and that he will perform
ills intent.
But it is a shorter speech to say, that
Ustis est dominium fiduciarium : Use is an
owner's life in trust.
So that usus el status, site possessio, potius dif-
ferunt secundum ralionem fori, quam secundum
niturnm rei, for that one is in course of law, the
other is in course of conscience; and for a trust,
which is the way to a use, it is exceedingly
well defined by Azo, a civilian of great un-
derstanding :
Fides est obligatio conscientiae unius ad inten-
tionem alterius.
And they have a good division likewise of
rights when they say there is
Jus precarium : Jus fiduciarium .• Jus legitimum.
1. A right in courtesy, for the which there is
no remedy at all.
2. A right in trust, for which there is a remedy,
but only in conscience.
3. A right in law.
And so much of the nature and definition of
a use.
It foUoweth to consider the parts and
The parts and . „ ...
properties of 1 propefties 01 a use : wherein it appear-
eth b_y the consent of all books, and
it was distinctly delivered by Justice Walmsley,
in 36 of Elizabeth: That a trust consisteth upon
three parts.
The first, that the feoffee will suffer
the feoffer to take the profits.
The second, that the feoffee upon request of
the feoffor, or notice of his will, will execute the
estates to the feoffor, or his heirs, or any other at
his direction.
The third, that if the feoffee be disseised, and
80 the feoffor disturbed, the feoffee will re-enter,
or bring an action to re-continue the possession ;
for that those three, pernancy of profits, execu-
tion of estates, and defence c he land, are the
three points of the trust.
For the properties of a use, they are
exceedingly well set forth by P^enner,
justice, in the same case; and they be three:
1. Uses, saith he, are created by confidence:
2. Preserved by privity, which is nothing else
■9ut a continuance of the confidence, without in-
terruption : and,
o. Ordered and guided by conscience: either
TBe parU.
The prwp«rtfe8.
by the private conscience of the feoffee, or the
general conscience of the realm, which ia
chancery.
The two former of which, because they be
matters more thoroughly beaten, and we shall have
occasion hereafter to handle thein, we will not
now dilate upon :
But the third we will speak somewhat of; both
because it is a key to open many of the true
reasons and learnings of uses, and because it
tendeth to decide our great and principal doubts
at this day.
Coke, solicitor, entering into his argument of
Chudleigh's case, said sharply and fitly: "I will
put never a case but it shall be of a use, for a use
in law hath no fellow;" meaning, that the learn-
ing of uses is not to be matched with other learn-
ings. And Anderson, chief justice, in the argu-
ment of the same case, did truly and profoundly
control the vulgar opinion collected
upon 5 E. IV. that there might be pos-
sessio fratris of a use ; for he said, that it was no
more but that the chancellor would consult with
the rules of law, where the intention of the par-
ties did, not specially appear; and therefore the
private conceit, which Glanvile, justice, cited in
the 42 Reginae, in the case of Corbet
and Corbet, in the Common Pleas, of
one of Lincoln's Inn, whom he named not, but
seemed well to allow of the opinion, is not
sound ; which was, that a use was but a limita-
tion, and did ensue the nature of a possession.
This very conceit was set on foot in
27 H 8. 9 lO
27 H. VIII. in the Lord Darcie's case,
in which time they began to heave at uses : for
thereafter the realm had many ages together put
in action the passing of uses by will, they began
to argue that a use was not devisable, but thvit
it did ensue the nature of the land : and the same
year after this statute was made ; so that this
opinion seemeth ever to be a prelude and fore-
runner to an act of Parliament touching uses;
and if it be so meant now, I like it well : but in
the mean time the opinion itself is to be rejected;
and because, in the same case of Cor-
bet and Corbet, three reverend judges
of the Court of Common Pleas did deliver and
publish their opinion, though not directly upon
the point adjudged, yet obiter as one of the rea-
sons of their judgment, that a use of inheritance
could not be limited to cease; and, again, that the
limitation of a new use could not be to a stranger ;
ruling uses merely according to the ground of
possession ; it is worth the labour to examine
that learning. By 3 H. VII. you may collect,
that if the feoffees had been disseised by the
common law, and an ancestor collateral of cestuy
que use had released unto the disseisor, and his
warranty had attached upon cestuy que use, yet
the chancellor, upon this matter showed, would
have no respect unto it, to compel the feoflees to
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
209
execute the estate unto the disseisor: for there
the case beiiij^, that ceatuy que use in tail having
made an assurance by fine and recovery, and by
warranty which descended upon his issue, two
of the judges held, that the use is not extinct;
and Bryan and Hussey, that held the contrary,
said, that the common law is altered by the new
statute; whereby they admit, that by the common
law that warranty will not bind and extinct a
right of a use, as it will do a right of possession;
and the reason is, because the law of collateral
warranty is a hard law, and not to be considered
in a court of conscience. In 5 E. IV.
' ' it is said, that if cestui/ que use be at-
tainted, query, who shall have the land, for the
lord shall not have the land; so as there the use
doth not imitate the possession ; and the reason
is, because the lord hath a tenant in by title ; for
that is nothing to the supcena, because the fe-
offor's intent was never to advance the lord, but
only his own blood ; and therefore the query of
the book ariseth, what the trust and confidence
of the feoffee did tie him to do, as whether he
should not sell the land to the use of the feoffee's
will, or in pios usus? So favourably they took
the intent in those days, like as you may find in
37 H. VI. that if a man had appointed
his use to one for life, the remainder in
fee to another, and cestuy que use, for life had re-
sug. Giib. 247. fused, bccauso the intent appeared not
B. Coup. j,g advifnce the heir at all, nor him in
reversion, presently the feoffee should make the
estate for life of him that refused, some ways to
the behoof of the feoffor. But to proceed in
some better order towards the disproof of this
opinion of imitation, there be four points wherein
we will examine the nature of uses.
1. T!ie raising of them.
2. The preserving of them.
3. The transferring of them.
4. Tlie extinguishing of them.
1. In all tliese four you shall see apparently
that uses stand upon their own reasons, utterly
differing from cases of possession. I would have
one case showed hy men learned in the law,
where there is a deed ; and yet there needs a
consideration; as for parole, the law adjudgeth it
too light to give a use without consideration;
but a deed ever in law imports a consideration,
because of the deliberation and ceremony in the
confection of it: and, therefore, in 8 Reginae it is
solemnly argued, that *a deed should raise a use
without any other consideration. In the queen's
«-ase a false consideration, if it be of record, will
nun the patent, but want of consideration doth
never hurt it ; and yet they say that a use is but a
nimble and light thing; and now, contrariwise,
it seemeth to be weightier than any thing else :
for you cannot weigh it up to raise it, neither by
deed, nor df«d enrolled, without the weight of a
consideration ; but you shall never find a reason
' of this to the world's end, in the law . but it is a
reason of chancery, and it is this :
That no court of conscience will en- jroh .^br.
: force donum ^atuituin, though the in- Ji?. il». m?!" '
j tent appear never so clearly, where it 2Veru.*"39.
j is not executed, or sufficiently passed
by law ; but if money had been paid, and so a
person damnified, or that it was for the establish-
ment of his house, then it is a good matter in the
chancery. So again I would see in all the law,
a case where a man shall take by conveyance, be
it by deed, livery, or word, that is not party to the
grant : I do not say that the delivery must be to
him that takes by the deed, for a deed may be
delivery to one man to the use of another. Nei-
ther do I say that he must be party to the livery
or deed, for he in the remainder may take though
he be party to neither ; but he must be party to
the words of the grant ; here again the case of the
use goeth single, and the" reason is, because a
conveyance in use is nothing but a publication of
the trust; and, therefore, so as the party trusted
be declared, it is not material to whom the publi-
cation be. So much for the raising of uses.
Now as to the preserving of them.
2. There is no case in the common law wherein
notice simply and nakedly is material to make a
coven, or pnrticeps cri minis ; and, therefore, if
the heir, which is in by descent, infeoff one which
had notice of the disseisin, if he were not a dis-
seisor de facto, h is nothing: so in 33 33H. e. j.
H. VI. if a feoffment be made upon
collusion, and that feoffee make a feoffment over
upon good consideration, the collusion is dis-
charged, and it is not material whether the second
feoffee had notice or no. So as it is put in 14 H.
VIII. if a sale be made in a market overt upon
good consideration, although it be to one that hath
notice that they are stolen goods, yet the property
of a stranger is bound ; though in the book before
remembered, 35 H. VI. there be some opinion to
the contrary, which is clearly no law ; so in 31
E. III. if assets descend to the heir, and he alien
it upon good consideration, although it be to one
that had notice of the debt, or of the warranty, yet
it is good enough. So 25 Ass. p. I, if a man
enter of purpose into my lands, to the end that a
stranger which hath right, should bring his
\prnec.ipe and evict the land, I may enter notwith-
j standing any such recovery : but if he enter,
having notice that the stranger hath right, and the
stranger likewise having notice of his entry, yet
1 if it were not upon confederacy or collusion be-
tween them, it is nothing ; and the reason of these
cases is, because the common law looketh no
farther than to see whether the act were merely
actus fetus in fraudem kisis ; and, therefore,
wheresoever it findeth consideration given, i» di-s
chargeth the coven.
But come now to the case of the use. .^ .,
and there it is otherwise, as it is in 14
300
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
II. VIII. and 28 H. VIII. and divers other books ;
which prove that if the feoffee sell the land for
good consideration to one that hath notice, the
3 Rep. 81. purchaser shall stand seised to the an-
779.""' ■*'"■ cient use; and the reason is, because
the chancery* looketh farther than the
common law, namely, to the corrupt conscience
of him that will deal with the land, knowing- it in
equity to be another's; and, therefore, if there
were radix amariludiiiis, the consideration purgeth
it not, but it is at the peril of liim that giveth it:
so that a consideration, or no consideration, is an
issue at the common law ; but notice, or no notice,
is an isue in the chancery. And so much for the
preserving of uses.
7ne transfer- ^' For the transferring of uscs there
ring of uses. jg jjq gj^gg jj^ ]j^^ whercby an action
may be transferred, but the subpoena we see in
case of use was always assignable ; nay, farther,
you find twice 27 B. VIII. fol. 20, pla. 9; and,
again, fol. 30, and pla. 21, that a right of use
may be transferred ; for in the former case Mon-
tague maketh an objection, and saith, that a right
of use cannot be given by fine, but to him that
hath the possession ; Fitzherbert answereth. Yes,
well enough ; query the reason, saith the book.
And in the latter case, where cestuy que use was
infeoff'ed by the disseisor of the feoff'ee, and made
a feoffment over, Englefield doubted whether the
second feoffee should have the use. Fitzherbert
said, "I marvel you will make a doubt of it, for
there is no doubt but the use passeth by the feoff-
ment to the stranger, and, therefore, this question
needeth not to have been made." So the great
difficulty in 10 Reginae, Delamer's case, where
the case was in effect, there being tenant in tail
of a use, the remainder in fee, tenant in tail
made a feoffment in fee, by the statute of 1 R.
III. and that feoffee infeoffed him in the remain-
der of the use, who made a feoffment over; and
there question being made, whether the second
feoffee should have the use in remainder, it is
well said, that the second feoffee must needs
have the best right in conscience ; because the
first feoffee claimeth nothing but in trust, and the
cestuy que use cannot claim it against his sale ; but
the reason is apparent, as is touched before, that
a use in es.se was but a thing in action, or in suit
to be brought in court of conscience; and whether
the subpana was to be brought against the feoffee
in possession to execute the estate, or against the
feoffee out of possession to recontinue the estate,
always the subpoena might be transferred ; for
still the action at the common law was not stirred,
but remained in the feoffee; and so no mischief
of maintainance or transferring rights.
And if any use being but in right
may be assigned, and passed over to I
a stranger, a multo fortiori, it may be limited to a i
stranger upon the privity of the first conveyance, '
as shall be handled in another place; and whereas
Glanvile, justice, said, that he could never find,
neither in book, nor evidences of any anticjuitv
a contingent use limited over to a stranger ; I an-
swer, first, it is no marvel that you find no case
I before E. IV. his time, of contingent uses, where
! there be not six of uses in all; and the reason,
[ no doubt, was, because men did choose well
I whom they trusted, and trust was well observed;
! and at this day, in Ireland, where uses are in
I practice, cases of uses come seldom in question,
except it be sometimes upon the alienations of
' tenants in tail by fine, that the feoffees will not
be brought to execute estates to the disinheritance
of ancient blood. But for experience of con-
tingent uses, there was nothing more usual in
obits than to will the use of the land to certain
persons and their heirs, so long as they shall pay
the chantry priests their wages, and in default of
payment, then to limit the use over to other per-
sons and their heirs ; and so, in case of forfeiture,
throufjh many deifrees ; and such con-
•^ " . T. TT 1 • ' Rep. 121. 129.
veyances are as ancient as K. 11. his
time.
4. Now for determining and extin- The extinginsh.
guishing of uses, we put the case of "■">' °f »»''•
collectoral warranty before ; add to that, the nota-
ble case of 14 H. VIII., Halfpenny's
case, where this very point is in the
principal case; for a right out of land, and the
land itself, in case of possession, cannot stand
tosfether, but the rent shall be'extinct ; but there
the case is. that the use of the land and the use
of the rent may stand well enough together; for
a rent charge was granted by the feoffee to one
that had n'ltice of the use, and ruled, that the
rent was to the ancient use, and both uses were
in esse simul et semel ; and though Brudenell,
chief justice, urged the ground of possession to
be otherwise, yet, he was overruled by other three
justices; and Brooke said unto him, he
thought he argued much for his plea- disk's cask,
» , , , ,1 Kep.J74.
sure. And to conclude, we see that
things may be avoided and determined by the
ceremonies and acts, like unto those by which
they are created and raised : that which passeth
by livery ought to be avoided by entry; that
which passeth by grant, by claim ; that which
passeth by way of charge, determineth by way
of discharge; and so a use which is raised but
by a declaration or limitation may cease by
words of declaration or limitation, as the civil
law saith, in his magis tonsenianeum est, quam
ut iisdem inndis res dissolvantur quibus consti-
iuantur.
For the inception and progression of
1*1 "^^^ inception
uses, I have, for a precedent in them, and progress or
searched other laws, because states
and commonwealths have common accidents;
and I find, in the civil law, that that which
cometh nearest in name to the use is nothing like
in matter, which is usus frudus; for usus fructus
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
801
et dominium is, with them, as with us, particular
tenancy and inheritance. But that
Fir»t, In the i • i i ■ . ,
cviiLw. which resembleth the use most is,
Contra Sigon. j-j • • i i /•
dejudiri,!^ lib. Jiaet commtsseo, and, therefore, you
shall find, in Justinian, lib. 2, that they
had a form in testaments, to <rive inheritance to
one to the use of another, Hxredem consUtuo Caium ;
Inst. 1, 2. '■^^^ aufem te, Caie, ut haereditatem resti-
no™»t. torn. 3. tuas Scio. And the text of the civilians
lib 6. tit. 3. saith, that for a great time, if the heir
did not as he was required, cestuy que use had no
remedy at all, until, about the time of Augustus
Caesar, there grew in custom a flattering form of
trust, for they penned it thus : Rogo le per salutem
Augusti, or per fortunam Jugusli, &:c. Where-
upon Augustus took the breach of trust to sound
in derogation of himself, and made a rescript to
the prxtor to give remedy in such cases ; where-
upon, within the space of a hundred years, these
trusts did spring and speed so fast, as they were
frrced to have a particular chancellor only for
uses, who was called prsetor fidei-commissarius ;
and not long after, the inconvenience of them
being found, they resorted unto a remedy much
like unto this statute; for, by two decrees of
senate, called senaius consultum Trebellianum et
Pegasianum, they made cestuy que use to be heir
in substance. I have sought, likewise, whether
Second in our thcrc be any thing which maketh with
'^"- them in our law, and I find that Periam,
chief baron, in the argument of Chudleigh's case,
compareth them to copyholders, and aptly for
many respects.
First, because, as a use seemeth to be an here-
ditament in the court of chancery, so the copyhold
seemeth to be an hereditament in the lord's court.
Secondly, this conceit of limitation hath been
troublesome in copyholders, as well as in uses ;
for it hath been of late days questioned, whether
there should be dowers, tenancies by the courtesy,
intails, discontinuances, and recoveries of copy-
holds, in the nature of inheritances, at the com-
mon law; and still the judgments have weighed,
that you must have particular customs in copy-
holds, as well as particular reasons of conscience
in use, and the limitation rejected.
And thirdly, because they both grew to strength
and credit by degrees ; for the copyholder first
had no remedy at all against the lord, and were as
tenancy at will. Afterwards it grew to have re-
medy in chancery, and afterwards against their
lords by trespass at the common law ; and now,
lastly, the law is taken by some, that they have
remedy bv ejedione firmm ,• without a special cus-
tom of leasing. So no doubt in uses : at the first
the chancery made question to give remedy, until
uses grew more general, and the chancery more
eminent; and then they grew to have remedy in
conscience : but they could never maintain any
manner of remedy at the common law, neither
against the feoffee, nor against strangers; but the
remedy against the feoflfee was but by the subpoena ;
and the remedy against strangers to the feoffee by
subpoena.
Now for the causes whereupon uses xhecauKt of
! were put in practice : Master Coke, in ""="'•
j his reading, doth say well, that they were pro-
■ duced sometimes for fear, and many times for
\ fraud. But I hold that neither of these cases
I were so much the reasons of uses, as another rea-
! son in the beginning, which was, that the lands
I by the common law of England were not testa-
mentary or devisable ; and of late years, since the
statute, the case of the conveyance for sparing of
purchases and execution of estates ; and now,
last of all, an express liberty of will in men's
minds, affecting to have assurances of their es-
tates and possessions to be revocable in their own
times, and irrevocable after their own times.
Now for the commencement and pro- Theircom.
ceeding of them, I have considered ";?,7rer''' "*
what it hath been in course of common of'mmmra'il*,
law, and what it hath been in course of ^."Da^cre'i'"'
statute. For the common law, the con- "*°-
ceit of Shelley, in 24 H. VIII., and of Pollard, m
27 H. VIII, , seemeth to me to be without ground,
which was, that the use succeeded the tenure :
for that the statute of Quia ernptores terrarum,
which was made 18 E. I. had taken away the te-
nure between the feoffor and the feoffee, and left
it to the lord paramount; they said that the feoff-
ment, being then merely without consideration,
should therefore intend a use to the feoffor, which
cannot be ; for, by that reason, if the feoffment
before the statute had been made tenendum de capi-
talibus dominis, as it might be, there should have
been a use unto the feoffor before that statute.
And again, if a grant had been of such things as
consist in tenure, as advowsons, rents, villains,
and the like, there should have been a use of them,
wherein the law was quite contrary ; for after the
time that uses grew common, yet it was, never-
theless, a great doubt whether things that did lie
in grant, did not carry a consideration in them-
selves because of the deed.
And therefore I do judge that the in- 7k.4.,6.
tendment of a use to the feoffor, where ST^iufS.'
the feoffment was without considera- s^'" e^s-
tion, grew long after, when uses waxed general ;
and for this reason, because when feoffments were
made, and that it rested doubtful whether it were
in use or in purchase, because purchases were
things notorious, and trusts were things sec.Tut,
the chancellor thought it more convenient to put
the purchaser to prove his confidence, than the
feoffor and his heirs to prove the use; and eo
made the intendment towards the use, and put thu
proof upon the purchaser.
And therefore as uses do carry at the rnH.s.9,ia
common law in no reason, for whatso- n^r!"Tstud.
ever is not by statute, nor against law, v"''^<= **•
may be said to be at the common law »nd bolli
2 C
802
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
the general trust and the special were things not
prohibited by law, though they were not remedied
by law ; so the experience and practice of uses
were not ancient ; and my reasons why I think
60 are these four:
First, I cannot find in any evidence before King
R. II. his time, the clause ad opus et usum, and
the very Latin of it savoureth of that time ; for in
ancient time, about E. I. and before, when law-
yers were part civilians, the Latin phrase was
much purer, as you may see partly by Bracton's
writing and by ancient patents and deeds, and
chielly by the register of writs, which is good La-
tin ; whereas the phrase ad opus et usum, as to the
words ad opus, is a barbarous phrase, and like
enough to be in the penning of some chaplain that
was not much past his grammar, when he found
opus et usus conp\ed together, and (preceding) that
they govern an ablative case; as they do indeed
since this statute, for they take away the land and
^id so put them into a conveyance.
Secondly, I find in no private act of attainder,
in the clause of forfeiture of lands, the words,
"which he hath in possession or in use," until
about E. IV, 's reign.
Thirdly, I find the word " use" in no statute
until 7 R. II., cap. 12., Of Provisors, and in 13
R., Of Mortuaries.
Fourthly, T collect out of Choke's
speech in 8 E. IV., where he saith, that
by the advice of all the judges it was thought that
the subpoena did not lie against the heir of the
feoffee which was in by law, but that the cestui/ que
use was driven to bill in Parliament, so that uses
at that time were but in their infancy ; for no
doubt at the first the chancery made difliculty to
give any remedy at all, but to leave to the parti-
cular conscience of the feoffee : but after the chan-
cery grew absolute, as may appear by the statute
made in H. VI. that complainants in chancery
should enter into bond to prove their suggestions,
which showeth that the chancery at that time be-
gan to embrace too far, and was used for vexa-
tion; yet, nevertheless, it made scruple to give
remedy against the heir, being in by act in law,
though he were privy ; so that it cannot be that
uses had been in any great continuance when they
made that question; as for the ase o\ matrimonii
praelocuti, it hath no affinity with uses; for where-
soever there was remedy at the common law by
action, it cannot be intended to be of the nature
of a use.
And for the book commonly vouched of 8 Ass.
where Earl calleth the possession of a conuzee
npon a fine levied by consent and entry in autre
droit, and 44 of E. III., where there is mention of
the feoffors that sued by petition to the king, they
he but implications of no moment. So as it ap-
jieareth the first practice of uses was about R. II.
las time; and the great multiplyino- and over-
spreading of them was partly during the wars in
France, which drew most of the nobility to be
absent from their possessions; and partly during
the time of the trouble and civil wars between th«>
two houses about the title of the crown.
Now to conclude the progression of second course oi
uses in courts of statutes, I do note "»'"'"■
three special points.
1. That a use had never any force at all at the
common law, but by statute law.
2. That there was never any statute made di-
rectly for the benefit of cestuy que use, as that the
descent of a use should toll an entry, or that a re-
lease should be good to the pernor of the profits,
Of the like ; but always for the benefit of stran-
gers, and third persons against cestuy que use, and
his feoffees : for though by the statute of R. III.,
he might alter his feolTee, yet that was not the
scope of the statute, but to make good his assur-
ance to third persons, and the other came in but ex
obliquo.
3. That the special intent unlawful and covin-
ous was the original of uses, though after it in-
duced to the lawful intent general and
special : so 50 E. III. is the first sta-
tute I find wherein mention is made of the taking
of profits by one, where the estate in law is in
another.
For as for the opinion in 27 H. VIII., that in
case of the statute bf Marlebridge, the f'^offor took
the profits, it is but a conceit : for the law is at this
day, that if a man infeoff his eldest son, within
age, and without consideration, although the pro-
fits be taken to the use of the son, yet it is a feoff-
ment within the statute. And for the statute J)e
religiosis 7 E. I., which prohibits generally that
religious persons should not purchase arte vel iii-
genio, yet it maketh no mention of a use, but it
saith colore donationis, termini, vel alicujus tituli,
reciting there three forms of conveyances, the gift,
the long lease, and feig-ned recovery; which gift
cannot be understood of a gift to a stranger to their
use, for that same to be holpen by 15
R. II. long after.
But to proceed, in 50 E. III., a sta-
tute was made for the relief of creditors
against such as made covinous gifts of their lands
and goods, and conveyed their bodies into sanc-
tuaries, there living high upon other men's goods ;
and-, therefore, that statute made their lands and
goods liable to their creditors' executions in that
particular case, if they took the profits.
In 1 R. II. c. 9, a statute was made for relief
of those as had right of action, against such as
had removed the tenancy of theprsccipe from them,
sometimes by infeoffing great persons, for main-
tenance; and sometimes by feoffments to other
persons, whereof the defendants could have no
notice ; and, therefore, the statute maketh the
recovery good in all actions against the first feoflf-
ors, so as they took the profits, and so as the de-
fendants bring their actions within a year of their
15 R. 2, c. 5.
READING OX TIU-: STATUTE OF USES.
303
eximlsions. In 2 R. II. cap. 3, an imperfpction
in the stiituteuf 50 E. III. was holpen ; for whereas
the statute took no place, but where trie defendant
appeared, and so was frustrated, the statute jriveth
upon proclamation made at the nrnte of the place
privileired, that the land should be liable without
appearance.
In 7 R. II. cap. 12, a statute was made for the
restraint of aliens, to take any benefices, or digni-
ties ecclesiastical, or farms, or administration of
them, without the king's special license, upon
pain of the statute of provisors; which being
remedied by a former statute, where the alien took
it to his own use; it is by that statute remedied,
where the alien took it to the use of another, as it
is printed in the book; though I guess that if the
record were searched, it should be, if any other
purchased it to the use of an alien, and that the
words, "or to the use of another," should be,
"or any other to his use." In 15 R. II. cap. 5,
a statute was made for the relief of lords against
mortmain, where feoffments were made to the use
of corporations; and an ordinance made that for
feoffments past the feoffees should, before a day,
either purchase license to amortise them, or alien
them to some other use, and for feoffments to
come, or they should be within the statute of mort-
main. In 4 II. VIII, cap. 7, the statute of 1 R.
II. 5, is enlarged in the limitation of time ; whereas
that statute did limit the action to be brought
within the year of the feoffment, this statute in
case of a disseisin extends the time to the life of
the disseisor; and in all other actions, leaves it to
tlie year from time to time of the action grown.
In 11 H. VI. cap. 3, the statute of 4 H. IV. is
declared, because that conceit was upon that sta-
tute, that in case of disseisin the limitation of the
life of the disseisor went only to the assize of
novel disseisin, and to no other action; and,
therefore, that statute declareth the former law to
extend to all other actions, grounded upon novel
disseisin. In 11 H. IV. cap. 5, a statute was
made for relief of him in remainder against parti-
cular tenants, for lives, or years, that assigned
over tlieir estates, and took the profits, and then
committed waste; and, therefore, ttiis statute
giveth an action of waste against them, being per-
nors of profits. In all this course of statutes no
relief is given to purchasers, that come in by the
party, but to such as come in by law, as defend-
ants in prsecipes, whether they be creditors, dis-
seisors, or lessors, and lands, and that only in case
of mortmain : and note also, that they be all in
cases of special covinous intents, as to defeat exe-
cutions, tenancy to i\\e prxcipe^^nA the statute of
mortmain, or provisors. From 11 H. VI. to 1 R.
III. being a space of some fifty years, a great
jsilence of uses in the statute book, which was this
time no question, they were favoured most. In
1 R. III. cap. 1, Cometh that great statute for the
relief of those that come in by the party, and at
that time a useappeareth in his likeness ; for there
is not a word spoken of any taking of the profits,
to describe a use by, but of claiming to a use; and
this statute ordained, that all feoffments, gifts,
grants, &c. shall be good against the feoffors,
donors, and grantors, and all other persons claim-
ing only to their use; so as here the purchaser
was fully relieved, and cstuy que use ; was obiltr
enabled to change his feoffees; because there
were no words in the statute of feoffments, grants,
&c. upon good consideration, but generally. In
H. VII. 's time new statutes were made for fur-
ther help and remedy to those that came in by act
in law; as 1 H. VII. cap. 1, nformedon is given
without limitation of time against cestuy que use ,•
and obiter, because they make him tenant, they
give him the advantage of a tenant, with age
and a voucher over: query 4 H. VII. cap. 17, the
wardship is given to the lord of the heir oi cestuy
que use, dying, and no will declared, as if he had
died seised in demesne, and reciprice the action
of waste given to the heir against the guardian,
and damages, if the lord were barred in his writ
of ward ; and relief is likewise given unto the
lord, if he, holding by knight service, be of full
age. In 19 H. VII. cap. 15, there is relief again
in three cases: first, to the creditors upon matter
of record, as upon recognisance, statute, or judg-
ment, whereof the two former were not aided at
all by any statute : and the last was aided by a
statute of 50 E. III. and 2 R. II. only in cases
of sanctuary men. Secondly, to the lords in soc-
cage for the reliefs, and herriots upon death,
which was omitted in the 4 H. VII., and lastly,
to the lords of villains, upon the purchase of their
villains in use.
In 23 H. VIII. cap. 10, a further remedy was
given in a case like unto the case ol mortmain;
for, in the statute of 15 R. II., remedy was given
where the use came ad manum morluam, which
was when it came to some corporation : now,
when uses were limited to a thing, apt or worthy,
and not to a person or body, as to corporation of
a church or chaplain, or obiit, but not incorporate
as to priests, or to such guilds or fraternities as
are only in reputation, and not incorjjorate, the
case was omitted, which by the statute was reme-
died, but not by way of giving entry unto the
lord, but by way of making the use utterly void ;
neither doth the statutes express to whose benefit
the use shall be void, either the feoffor or the
feoffee, but leaveth it to law, and addeth a pro-
viso, that such uses may be limited from the gift,
and no longer.
This is the whole course of the statute law,
before this statute. Thus have I set forth unto
you the nature and definition of a use, the dif-
ferences and trusts of a use, the parts of a use,
the qualities of it; and by what rules and learn
ings uses shall be guided and ordered : a ])recpdenl
of them in other laws, the causes of tl e springui}*
304
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
and proceeding of them, the continuance of uses,
and the proceeding that they have had hoth in
common and statute law ; whereby it may appear,
that a use is no more but a general trust when a
man will trust the conscience of another better
than his own estate and possession, which is an
accident or event of him and society, which hath
been, and will be in all laws, and therefore was
at the common law ; for, as Fitzherbert saith, in
the 14 H. VIIL, common reason is
common lav/, and not conscience ; but
common reason doth define that uses should be
remedied in conscience, and not in courts of law,
and ordered by rules in conscience, and not by
straight cases of law; for the common law hatli
a kind of rule on the chancery, to determine what
belongs unto the chancery. And therefore we
ma)'^ truly conclude, that the force and strength
of the use had or hath in conscience, is by com-
mon law ; and, therefore, that it had or hath in
law, is only by statute.
Of upes since Now foUoweth III coursB both of
the. statute ume and matter, the consideration of
this statute, our principal labour; and whereunto
this former consideration which we have handled,
serve but for introduction.
This stfitute, as it is the statute which of all
others hath the greatest power and operation over
the inheritance of the realm, so, howsoever it
h;ith been by the humour of the time perverted in
exposition, yet itself is the most perfect and exactly
conceived and penned of any law in the book. It
is induced with the most declaring and under-
standing preamble, consisting and standing upon
the wisest and fittest ordinances, and qualified
with the most foreseeing and circumspect savings
and provisoes ; and, lastly, the best pondered of
all the words and clauses of it, of any
Of the circum- , t /> i t-» i ^ t
•unces atieni- Statute that 1 find. Uut betore 1 come
inc the statute. , * i /- t ■ 1 1
to the Statute itseli, 1 will note unto
you three matters of circumstance.
1. The time of the statute. 2. The title of it.
3. The precedent or pattern of it.
1. The time of ^(''^ ^^6 time, it was made in 27 H.
the statute. VIII., whcu the kingdom was in full
peace, and in a wealthy and in a flourishing time,
in which nature of time men are most careful of the
assurance of their possessions ; as well because
purchasers are most stirring, as again, because
the purchaser, when he is full, is no less careful
of his assurance to his children, and of disposing
that which he hath gotten, than he was of his
bargain antl compassing thereof.
About that time the realm began to be enfran-
chised from the tributes to Rome, and the posses-
sions that had been in mortmain began to stir
abroad ; for this year was the suppression of the
smaller houses, all tending to plenty, and pur-
chasing : and this statute came in consort with
(li»'^ers excellent statutes, made for the kingdom in
Mie same parliament; as the reduction of Wales
[ to a more civil government, the re-edifying of
divers cities and towns, the suppressing of depo-
pulation and enclosures, all badges of a time thit
I did extraordinarily flourish.
I For the title, it hath one title in the
11 I .1 • e \ >■ 2. The title.
roll, and another in course ot pleading.
The title in the roll is no solemn title, but an apt
I title, viz., An act expressing an order for uses and
j wills ; it was time, for they were out of order.
, The title in course of pleading is, Statutum de
i usibus in poasessionem transferendis : wiierein
i VValinsly, justice, noted well, 40 Reginae, that
I if a man look to the working of the statute, he
would think that it should be turned the other
way, de pussessiunibus ad usus transferendis .• for
that is the course that the statute holdeth, to bring
possession to the use. But the title is framed
not according to the working of the statute, but
according to the scope and intention of the sta-
tute, nam quod primum est intenlione ultimum est
lypere. And the intention of the statute was by
carrying the possession to the use, to turn the use
into a possession ; for the words are not de pus-
sessionibus ad usus sed in usus transferendis ,■ and,
as the grammarian saith, prxpositio, ad, denotat
motum actionis, sed prxposilio, in, cum accusativo,
denotat motum alter ationis: and therefore. Kings-
mill, justice, in the same case said, that the mean-
ing of the statute was to make a transubstantiation
of the use into a possession.
But it is to be noted, that titles of acts of Parlia-
ment severally came in H. VIII., for before that
time there was but one title to all the acts made
in one Parliament; and that was no title neither,
but a general preface of the good intent of the
king, but now it is parcel of the record.
For the precedent of this statute upon
which it is drawn, I do find it by the ui«m".-:rhit
first R. III. c. 5, whereupon you may
see the very mould whereon this statute was made,
where the said king having been infeoff'ed (before
he usurped) to uses, it was ordained that the land
whereof he was jointly infeofled with others
should be in his other cofeoflTees as if he had not
been named , and where he was solely infeoffed,
it should be in ceduy que use, in estate, as he had
the use.
Now to come to the statute itself, the statute
consisteth, as other laws do, upon a preamble, the
body of the law, and certain savings, and pro-
visoes. The preamble setteth forth the incon-
venience, the body of the law giveth the remedy.
For new laws are like the apothecaries' drugs,
thouffh they remedy the disease, yet, they trouble
the body; and, therefore, they use to correct with
spices: and so it is not possible to find a remedy
for any mischief in the commonwealth, hut it will
1 beget some new mischief; and, therefore, they
spice their laws with provisoes to correct and
qualify them,
i The preamble of this law was justly ThepreamWe
RKADING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
305
commended by Popham, chief justice,
<L, ,hI^' ill .'{<; Eliz., where he sailli, that there
is little need to search and collect out
of «.ases, before this statute, what the mischief
was which tlie scope of the statute was to redress ;
because there is a shorter way olTered us, by the
sufficiency and fulness of the preamble, and be-
cause it is indeed the very level which doth direct
the very ordinance of the statute, and because all
the mischief hatb grown by expoundinir of this
statute, as if they had cut off" the body of this
statute from tlie |)reamble; it is good to consider
it and ponder it thoroughly.
The preamble hath three parts.
*'* First, a recital of our principal in-
convenience, which is the root of all the rest.
Secondly, an enumeration of divers particular
inconveniences, as branches of the former.
Thirdly, a taste or brief note of the remedy that
the statute meaneth to apply.
The principal inconvenience, which
1. The prici- . ,. . , . ,
pal incoi ve.ii- IS racitx omnium ma/orum, is the
digressing from the grounds and prin-
ciples of the common law, by inventing a mean
to transfer lands and hereditaments without any
solemnity or act notorious; so as the whole sta-
tute is to be expounded strongly towards the
extinguishment of all conveyances, whereby the
freehold or inheritance may pass without any new
confections of deeds, executions of estate or en-
tries, except it be where the estate is of privity
and dependence one towards the other; in which
cases, mutatis mutandis, they might pass by the
rules of the common law.
^ The particular inconveniences by the
2. The particn- , '^ , . -
lar incouven. law Tchearsed may be reduced into four
heads.
1. First, that these conveyances in use are weak
for consideration.
2". Secondly, that they are obscure and doubt-
ful for trial.
3. Thirdly, that they are dangerous for lack of
notice and publication.
4. Fourthly, that they are exempted from all
such titles as the law subjecteth possessions
unto.
The first inconvenience lighteth upon heirs.
The second upon jurors and witnesses.
The third upon purchasers.
The fourth upon such as come in by gift in
law.
All which are persons that the law doth prin-
cipally respect and favour.
For the first of these are there three
impediments to the judgment of man,
in disposing wisely and advisedly of
his estate.
First, nonability of mind.
Secondly, want of time.
Thirdly, of wise and faithful counsel about
him.
Vol. III.— 39
' 'ITK'T
I 1. And all these three the statute did find to be
in the disposition of a use by will, whereof fol-
lowed the unjust disinherison of many. Now
the favour of the law unto heirs appeareth in
many parts of the law; of descent which privi-
I legcth the possession of the heir against the entry
j of him that has right by the law ; that a man shall
not warrant against his heir, except he warrant
against himself, and divers other cases too long
to stand upon; and we see the ancient law in
Glanvill's time was, that the ancestor could not
disinherit his heir by grant, or other act executed
not in time of sickness; neither could he alien
land which had descended unto him, except it
were for consideration of money or chnb. b.7. ch.
service; but not to advance any younger '••'>'■■»*•
brother without the consent of the heir.
2. For trials, no law ever took a They are both
stricter course that evidence should not SmiMfuUol-
be perplexed, nor juries inveigled, than "^"''
the common law of England ; as on the other side,
never law took a stricter or more precise course
with juries, that they should giv£ a direct verdict.
For whereas in a manner all laws do give the
triers, or jurors (which in other laws are called
judges (fc facto) leave to give a non liquet, that is,
no verdict at all, and so the cause to stand abated ;
our law enforceth them to a direct verdict, general
or special; and whereas other laws accept of
plurality of voices to make a verdict, our law en-
forceth them all to agree in one ; and whereas
other laws leave them to their own time and ease,
and to part, and to meet again ; our law doth
duress and imprison them in the hardest manner,
without food, light, or other comfort, until they
be agreed. In consideration of which strictness
and coercion, it is consonant, that the law do
require in all matters brought to issue, that there
be full proof and evidence ; and, therefore, if the
matter of itself be in the nature of simple contracts,
which are made by parole without writing.
In issue upon the mere right, which is a thing
hard to discern, it alloweth the wager of battail
to spare jurors. If time have wore the marks and
badges of truth : from time to time there have
been statutes of limitation, where you shall find
thismischief of perjuries often recited ; and lastly,
which is the matter in hand, all inheritances could
not pass but by acts overt and notorious, as by
deed, livery, and record.
3. For purchasers, iojia^cfe, it may 3. Theo^
appear that they were ever favoured in ^^"^fUJuc
our law, as first by the great favour of
warranties which were ever for the indemnity of
purchasers : as where we see that by the law in
E. III.'s time, the disseisee could not enter upon
the feoffee in regard of the warranty. So again
the collateral guarranty, which otherwise is h
hard law, grew no doubt only upon favour of
purchasers; so likewise that the law doth take
strictly rent charge, conditions, extent, was
2r2
306
READING ON THE STATUTE OK USES.
merely in favour of purchasers; so was the bind-
ing of fines at the common law, the invention and
practice of recoveries, to defeat the statute of en-
tails, and many more grounds and learnings of
law are to be found, respect the quiet possession
of purchasers. And, therefore, though the statute
of 1 R. III. had provided for the purchaser in
some sort, by enabling the acts and conveyances
of cestuy que use, yet, nevertheless, the statute
did not at all disable the acts or charges of the
feoffees : and so, as Walmsly, justice, said, 42 Eliz.
they played at double hand, for cestuy que use
might sell, and the feoffee might sell, which was
a very great uncertainty to the purchaser.
4. They are 4. For thc fourth polnt of inconveni-
"™i«ir""' ence towards those that come in by
law ; conveyances in uses were like
privileged places or liberties : for as there the
law doth not run, so upon such conveyances the
law could take no hold, but they were exempted
from all titles in law. No man is so absolute
owner in his own possessions, but that the wis-
dom of the law doth reserve certain titles unto
others ; and such persons come not in by the plea-
sure and disposition of the party, but by the
justice and consideration of law, and, therefore,
of all others they are most favoured : and they are
principally throe.
1. The king and lords, who lost the benefit of
attainders, fines for alienations, escheats, aids,
herriots, reliefs, &c.
2. The demandants in praecipes either real or
personal, for debt and damages, who lost the
benefit of their recoveries and executions.
3. Tenants in dower, and by the courtesy, who
lost their estates and titles.
1. First for the king: no law doth endow the
king or sovereign with more prerogatives than
one : for it preserveth and exempteth his person
from suits and actions, his possessions from inter-
ruption or disturbance, his right from limitation
of time, his patents from all deceits and false
suggestions. Next the king is the lord, whose
<!uties and rights the law doth much favour, be-
cause the law supposeth the land did originally
come from him ; for until the statute of quia emp-
tor es terrarum, the lord was not forced to distract
or dismember his signiory or service. So, until
15 H. VII. the law was taken, that the lord, upon
his title of wardship, should oust a reconuzee of a
statute, or a termor : So again we see, that the
statute of mortmain was made to preserve the
lord's escheats and wardships. The tenant in
dower is so much favoured, as that it is the com-
mon saying and by-word in the law, that the |
'aw favoureth three things.
). Life. 2. Liberty. 3. Dower.
So, in case of voucher, the feme shall not be de-
layod, but shall recover against the heir mainte-
M.mt : So likewise for the tenant by courtesy, as
it is called, and by the law of England, and there-
fore specially favoured, as a proper conceit and
invention of our law. So, again, they principally
favour such as have ancient rights, and therefore
Lett telleth us that it is commonly said that a
right cannot die: and that ground of law, that a
freehold cannot be in suspense, showeth it well,
insomuch that the law will rather give the land to
the first comer, which we call an occupant, than
want a tenant to a stranger's action.
And, again, the other ancient ground of law of
remitter, showeth that where the tenant faileth
without folly in the demandant, the law exe-
cuteth the ancient right. To conclude, therefore,
this part, when this practice of feoffments in use
did prejudice and damnify all those persons that
the ancient common law favoured, and did abso-
lutely cross the wisdom of the law, which was to
have conveyances considerate and notorious, and
to have trial thereupon clear and not inveigled, it
is no marvel that the statute concludeth, that the
subtile imaginations and abuses tended to the utter
subversion of the ancient common laws of this
realm.
The third part giveth a touch of the 3 Atouchot
remedy which the statute intendeth to ^^''""^y-
minister, consisting in two parts.
First, the extirpation of feoffments.
Secondly, the taking away of the hurt, damage,
and deceit of uses; out of which have been ga-
thered two extremities of opinions.
The first opinion is, that the intention of the
statute was to discontinue and banish all convey-
ances in use ; grounding themselves both upon
the words, that the statute doth not speak of the
extinguishment or extirpation of the use, namely,
by a unity of possession, but of an extinguishment
or extirpation of the feoffment, &c., which is the
conveyance itself.
Secondly, out of the words abuse and errors,
heretofore used and accustomed,asif uses had not
been at the common law, but had been only an
erroneous device and practice. To both which I
answer:
To the former, that the extirpation which the
statute meant was plain, to be of the feoffee's es-
tate, and not of the form of conveyances.
To the latter I say, that for the word abuse, that
may be an abuse of the law, which is not against
law, as the taking of long leases of lands at this
day in capite to defraud wardships is an abuse of
law, but yet it is according to law, and for the
word (errors) the statute meant by it, not a mis-
taking of the law, but a wandering or going
astray, or digressing from the ancient practice of
the law, into a bye-course : as when we say, erra-
vimus cum patrihus nosiris, it is not meant of ig-
norance, but of perversity. But to prove that the
statute meant not to suppress the form of convey
ances, there be three reasons which are not an-
swerable.
The first is, that the statute in every branch
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
307
thereof hath words de futuro, that are seised, or
hert^after shall be seised ; and whereas it may be
said that these words were put in, in regard of
uses suspended by discontinuance, and so no pre-
sent seisin to the use, until a regress of the feof-
fees ; that intendment is very particular, for com-
monly such cases special are brought in by provi-
sos, or special branches, and not intermixed in
the body of a statute ; and it had been easy for
the statute to have, " or hereafter shall be seised
upon every feoffment, &c., heretofore had or
made." ,
My second reason is upon the words of the sta-
tute of enrolment, which saith, that (no heredita-
ments shall pass, &c., or any use thereof, &c.,)
whereby it is manifest, that the statute meant to
leave the form of conveyance with the addition of
a farther ceremony.
The third reason I make is out of the words of
the first proviso, where it is said, that no primer
seisin, livery, fine, nor alienation, &c., shall be
taken for any estate executed by force
of the statute, before the first of May,
1536, but that they shall be paid for uses made
and executed in possession for the time after;
where the word made directly goeth to convey-
ances in use made after the statute, and can have
T)o other understanding; for the words, executed
in possession, would have served for the case of
regi.iss: and, lastly, which is more than all, if
they have had any such intent, the case being so
general and so plain, they would have had words
express, that every limitation of use made after
the statute should have been void ; and this was
the exposition, as tradition goeth, that a reader of
Gray's Inn, that read soon after the statute, was
in trouble for, and worthily, which, I suppose,
was Boiser, whose reading 1 could never see; but
I do now insist upon it, because now again some,
in an immoderate invective against uses, do re-
lapse to the same opinion.
The second opinion, which I call a
piDion. contrary extremity, is that the statute
meant only to remedy the mischiefs in the pre-
amble, recited as they grew by reason of divided
uses; although the like mischief may grow upon
the contingent uses, yet the statute had no fore-
sight of them at that time, and so it was merely
a new case, not comprised. Whereunto I answer,
that I grant the work of the statute is to execute
the divided use; and, therefore, to make any use
void by this statute which was good before;
though it doth participate of the mischief recited
jn the statute, were to make a law upon a pream-
ble without a purview, which were grossly ab-
surd. But upon the question what uses are
executed, and what not; and whether out of the
possessions of a disseisin, or other possessions
out of privity or not, there you shall guide your
exposition according to the preamble; as shall
be handled in my next day's discourse, and so
much touching the preamble of this law.
For the body of the law, I would
wish all readers that expound statutes t^fjoitbe
to do as scholars are willed to do : that
is, first, to seek out the principal verb ; that is, to
note and single out the material words whereupon
this statute is framed ; for there are, in every
statute, certain words, which are veins where the
life and blood of the statute cometh, and where
all doubts do arise and issue forth, and all the
rest of the words are but Hlerx rnortux, fulfilling
words.
The body of the statute consisteth upon two
parts.
First, a supposition, or case put, as Anderson,
3G Eliz., called it.
Secondly, a purview, or ordinance thereupon.
The cases of the statute are three, Tbeca«»oftii»
and every one hath his purview : the •'*"""•
general case; the case of feoffees to the use of
some of them ; and the general case of feoffees
to the use or pernors of rents or profits.
The general case is built upon eight
. • T 1 /- , r , 2. The general
material words: four on the part of the ca^.
feoffees; three on the part of cestuy que use;
and one common to them both.
The first material word on the part of tha
feoffees is the word person. This excludes all
abeyance ; for there can be no confidence reposed
hut in a person certain. It excludes again all
corporations : for they are enabled to a use cer-
tain ; for note on the part of the feoffor over the
statute insists upon the word person ; and on the
part of cestuy que use, it ever addeth, body po-
litic.
The second word material is the
word seised. This excludes chattels. iin?ionJ» cm*, 2
mi , • , Ventr. 310.
Ine reason they meant to remit the
common law, and not to alter that chattels might
ever pass by testament or by parole ; therefore
the use did not pervert them. It excludes again
rights, for it was against the rules of the common
law to grant or transfer rights ; therefore the sta-
tute would execute them. Thirdly, it excludes
contingent uses, because the seisin can be but to
a fee-simple of a use ; and when that is limited,
the seisin of the feoflfee is spent; for Littleton
tells us, that there are but two seisins ; one, in
domtnio ut de feudo ,• the other, ut de feodo ; and
the feoflfee by the common law could execute but
the fee-simple to uses present, and no post uses ;
and therefore the statute meant not to execute
them.
The third material word is the word hereafter :
that bringeth in conveyances made after the sta-
tute. It brings in again conveyances made before
and disturbed by disseisin and recontinued after ;
for it is not said, infeoffed to use, but hereafter
seised.
303
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
The fourth word is hereditament, which is to
be understood of those things whereof an inherit-
ance may be, and not of those things whereof an
inheritance is in esse; for if I grant a rent charge
de novo for life to a use, this is good enough ; and
yet there is no inheritance in being of this rent.
This word likewise excludes annuities and uses
themselves, so that a use cannot be to a use.
The first words on the part of ceslut/ que use are
the words, use, trust, or confidence ; whereby it
is plain that the statute meant not to make voca-
bulatum artis, but it meant to remedy
Brougbton v. , , i ■ , i i
Langiey. matter, and not word ; and in all the
iLutiv. 823. clauses it still carrieth the words.
Conlr. Burchett i • , i
». Duniani. 1 he sccond word is the word person,
2 Ventr. 312. . , . , ,,,,,,
again, which excludeth all abeyance ;
it excludeth also dead uses, which are not to
bodies lively and natural, as the building of a
church, the making of abridge; but here, as was
noted before, is ever coupled with body politic.
The third word is the word other : The statute
meant not to cross the common law. Now, at this
time uses were grown into such familiarity, as
men could not think of a possession, but in course
of use ; and so every man was said to be seised to
his own use, as well as to the use of others ;
therefore, because the statute would not stir nor
turmoil possessions settled at common law, it
putteth in precisely this word, other; meaning
the divided use, and not the conjoined use ; and
this word causeth the clause in joint feoffees to
follow in a branch by itself; for else that case
had been doubtful upon this word, other.
The words that are common to both
s expressing the conveyance
whereby the use ariseth, of which
words those that breed any question are, agree-
ment, will, otherwise, whereby some have infer-
red that uses might be raised by agreement parole,
so there were a consideration of money or other
matter valuable ; for it is expressed in the words
before, bargain, sale, and contract, but of blood,
or kindred ; the error of which collection ap-
peareth in the word immediately following,
namely, will, whereby they might as well include,
that a man seised of land might raise a use by
will, especially to any of his sons or kindred,
where there is a real consideration ; and by that
reason, mean, betwixt this statute and by the
statute of 32 of wills, lands were devisable,
especially to any man's kindred, which was
clearly otherwise; and, therefore, those words
were put in, but in regard of uses formerly trans-
ferred by those conveyances; for it is clear that
a use in esse by simple agreement, with con-
sideration, or without, or likewise by will, might
be transferred ; and there was a person seised to
a use, by force of that agreement or will, namely,
to the use of the assignee; and, for the word
otherwise, it should by the generality of the word
include a disseisin to a use. But the whole scope
CoUard v._Call,
H^w'tl'Di'x^l.' ^^^ word
1 Sid. 26.
of the statute crosseth that which was to exccuto
such uses, as were confidences and trust, which
could not be in case of disseisin; for if there
were a commandment precedent, then the land
was vested in cestuy que use upon the entry ; and
if the disseisin were of the disseisor's own head,
then no trust. And thus much for the case of
exposition of this statute: here follow the ordi-
nance and purview thereupon.
The purview hath two parts : the
first, operatio statuti, the effect that the ordinance
statute worketh ; and there is modus "'"'"
operandi, a fiction or explanation how the statute
doth work that effect. The effect is,
that cestuy que use shall be in posses- senhouse. '
/. 1 • . . , . • . Fnllflf.
sion o.t like estate as he hath in the use ; 525. 586.
, ^ . 7 - 1 , Lisle V. Grar-
the fiction quomodo is, that the statute 1 Rep. 10.28.
will have the possession of cestuy que chudieigh-.
use, as a new body compounded of mat- cnoper v.
ter and form ; and that the feoffees shall 1 Ro Atr. too.
, , , , Cro. Jac. 401.
give matter and substance, and the use
shall give form and quality. The material words
in the first part of the purview are four.
The first words are, remainder and reverter, the
statute having spoken before of uses in fee-simple,
in tail, for life, or years, addeth, or otherwise in
remainder or reverter; whereby it is manifest,
that the first words are to be understood of uses
in possession. For there are two substantial and
essential differences of estates; the one limiting
the times, for all estates are but times of their
continuances; the former maketh like difference
of fee-simple, fee-tail, for life or years ; and the
other maketh difference of possession as remain-
der; all other differences of estate are but acci-
dents, as shall be said hereafter. These two the
statute meant to take hold of, and at the words,
remainder and reverter, it stops : it adds not words,
right, title, or possibility, nor it hath not general
words, or otherwise; whereby it is most plain,
that the statute meant to execute no inferior uses
to remainder or reverter : that is to say, no possi-
bility or contingencies, but estates, only such as
the feoffees might have executed by conscience
made. Note, also, that the very letter of tlie sta-
tute doth take notice of a difference between a use
in remainder and a use in reverter; which though it
cannot be properly, because it doth not depend upon
particular estates, as remainders do, neither did
then before the statute draw any tenures as rever-
sions do; yet, the statute intends there is a dif-
ference when the particular use, and the use limited
upon the particular use, are both new uses, in
which case it is a use in remainder; and where
the particular use is a new use, and the remnant
of the use is the old use, in which case it is a use
in reverter.
The next material words are, from henceforth,
which doth exclude all conceit of relation that
cestuy que use sliall not come in : as from the
lime of the firrt feoffments to use, as Brudnell's
KKADIXG ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
309
ronci'it w.is in 14 H. Vl/I- That is, the feoffee j
h;i(i ffravited a rent charge, anJ eesluy que use had |
made a feoffment in fee, by the statute of I R. III.
the feoffee should have held it discharged, because
th(^ act of cestuy que use shall put the feoffee in,
as if cestuy que use had been seised in from the
time of the first use limited ; and, therefore, the
statute diHh take away all such amhiiruities, and
expresseth that ces/t/y (^we ust shall be in posses-
sion from henceforth ; that is, from the time of
the Parliament for uses then in being, and from
the time of the execution for uses limited after
the Parliament.
The third material words are, lawful seisin,
state, and possession, not a possession in law only,
but a seisin in fact; not a title to enter into the
land, but an actual estate.
The fourth words are, of and in such estates
as they had in the use ; that is to say, like estates,
fee-simple, fee-tail, for life, for years at will, in
possession, and reversion, which are the sub-
stantial differences of estates, as was expounded
by the branch of the fiction of the statute which
follows.
This branch of fiction hath three material words
or clauses: the first material clause is, that the
estate, right, title, and possession that was in
such person, fcc, shall be in cestuy que use ; for
that the matter and substance of the estate of
cesly que use is the estate of the feoffes, and more
he cannot have ; so as if the use were limited to
cestuy que use and his heirs, and the estate out of
which it was limited was but an estate for life,
cestuy que use can have no inheritance : so if, when
the statute came, the heir of the feoffee had not
entered after the death of his ancestor, but had
only a possession in ■]2\9, cestuy que use in that
case should not bring an assize before entry, be-
cause the heir of the feoffee could not ; so that
the matter whereupon the use might work is the
feoffee's estate. But note here : whereas before,
when the statute speaks of the uses, it spake only
of uses in possession, remainder, and reverter, and
not in title or right : now, when the statute speaks
what shall be taken from the feoffee, it speaks of
title and right : so that the statute takes more
from the feoffee than it executes presently, in cases
where there are uses in contingence which are but
titles.
The second word is clearly, which
seems properly and directly to meet
with the conceit of scintilla juris, as
N>nie,2Mod. ^gU gg thowords in the preamble of
LimpiMih/' extirpating and extinguishing such
saik. 678. feoffments, so as their estate is clearly
extinct.
The third material clause is, after such quality,
manners, form, and condition as they had in the
use, so as now as the feoffee's estate gives matter,
80 the use gives form : and as in the first clause
the use was endowed with the possession in
Dy. 340.
Halv V. Rvley.
I Ami. 331, 332.
points of estate, so there it is endowed with the
possession in all accidents and circumstances of
estate. Wherein first note, that it is gross and
absurd to expound the form of- the use any whit
to destroy the substance of the estate ; as to make
a doubt, because the use gave no dower or tenan-
cy by the courtesy, that therefore the possession
when it is transferred would do so likewise: no,
but the statute meant such quality, manner, form,
and condition, as it is not repugnant to the cor-
poral presence and possession of the estate.
Next, for the word condition, I do not hold it
to be put in for uses upon condition, though it be
also comprised within the general words ; but
because I would have things stood upon learn-
edly, and according to the true sense, I hold it
but for an explaining, or word of the effect; as it
is in the statute of 2G of treasons, where
it is said, that the offenders shall be
attainted of the overt fact by men of their condi-
tion, in this place, that is to say, of their degree
and sort: and so the word condition in this place
is no more, but in like quality, manner, form, and
degree, or sort ; so as all these words amount but
modo tt forma. Hence, therefore, all circum-
stances of estate are comprehended as sole seisin,
or jointly seisin, by intierties, or by moieties, a
circumstance of estate to have agu as coming .n
by descent, or not age as purchasiT; a circum-
stance of estate descendible to the heir of the part
of the father, or of the part of the mother ; a cir-
cumstance of estate conditional or absolute, re-
milted or not remitted, with a condition of ii.ter-
marriage or without. All these are accidents and
circumstances of estate, in all which the posses-
sion shall ensue the nature and quality of the use :
and thus much of the first case, which is die
general case.
The second case of the joint feoffees TheMcon
needs no exposition ; for it pursueth '^'*-
the penning of the general case: only this I will
note, that although it had been omitted, yet the
law upon the first case would have been taken as
the case provided : so that it is rather an expla
nation tfian an addition ; for turn that case the
other way, that one were enfeoffed to the use of
himself, and others as that case is, that divers
were infeoffed to the use of one of them, I hold
the law to be, that in the former case they shall
be seised jointly ; and so in the latter case cestuy
que use shall be seised solely ; for the word
other, it shall be qualified by construction of
cases, as shall appear when I come to my divi-
sion. But because this case of co-feoffees to the
use of one of them was a general case in the
realm, therefore they foresaw it and passed ovei
the case e cunverso, which was but an especial
case : and they were loath to bring in this case,
by inserting the word only into the first case, to
have penned it to the use only of other persons :
for they had experience what doubt the word on'y
310
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES
Dred upon the statute of I R. III. after this third
case : and before the third case of rents comes in
the second saving; and the reason of it is worth
the noting, why the savings are interlaced before
the third case; the reason of it is, because the
third case needeth no saving, and the first two
cases did need saving; and that is the reason of
that again.
It is a general ground, that where an act of
Parliament is donor, if it be penned with an acsi,
it is not a saving, for it is a special gift, and not a
general gift, which includes all rights; and, there-
fore, in 11 H. VII., where, upon the alienation
of women, the statute entitles the heir of him in
remainder to enter, you find never a stranger,
because the statute gives entry not simpliciler,
but within an ac si ,• as if no alienation had been
made, or it the feme had been naturally dead.
Strangers that had right might have entered ; and
therefore no saving needs. So in the statute of
32 of leases, the statute enacts, that the leases
shall be good and effectual in law, as if the lessor
had been seised of a good and perfect estate in
fee-simple; and therefore you find no saving in
the statute; and so likewise of divers other
statutes, where the statute doth make a gift or
title good specially against certain persons, there
needs no saving, except it be to exempt some of
those persons, as in the statute of 1 R. III. Now,
to apply this to the case of rents, which is pen-
ned with an ac si, namely, as if a sufficient grant
or other lawful conveyance had been made, or
executed by such as were seised ; why, if such a
grant of a rent had been made, one that had an
ancient right might have entered and have avoided
the charge; and therefore no saving needeth : but
the second and first cases are not penned with an
ac si, but absolute, that cestuy que use shall be
adjudged in estate and possession, which is a
judgment of Parliament stronger than any fine,
to bind all rights; nay, it hath farther words,
namely, in lawful estate and possession, which
maiceth that the stronger than any in the first
clause. For if the words only had sto^d upon
the second clause, namely, that the estate of the
feoffee should be in cestuy que use, then perhaps
the gift should have been special, and so the
saving superfluous : and this note is very material
in regard of the great question, whether the
feoffees may make any regress; which opinion,
I mean, that no regress is left unto them, is prin-
cipally to be argued out of the saving; as shall
be now declared • for the savings are two in num-
ber : the first saveth all strangers' rights, with an
exception of t!ie feoffee's ; the second is a saving
oiU of the exception of the first saving, namely,
of the feoffees' in case where they claim to their
vwn proper use: it had been easy in the first
saving out of the statute, other than such persons
as are seised, or hereafter should be seised to any
use, to have added to these words, executed by
this statute; or in the second saving to hav«!
added unto the words, claiming to their proper
use, these words, or to tlie use of any other,
and executed by this statute : but the regress of
the feoffee is shut out between the two savino-s ;
for it is the right of a person claiming to a use,
and not unto his own proper use : but it is to he
added, that the first saving is not to be understooo
as the letter implieth, that feoffees to use shall be
barred of their regress, in case that it be of
another feoffment than that whereupon the statute
hath wrought, but upon the same feoffment; as
if the feoffee before the statute had been dis-
seised, and the disseised had made a feoff-
ment in fee to I. D. his use, and then the
statute came; this executeth the use of the
second feoffment; but yet the first feoffees may
make a regress, and they yet claim to a use, but
not by that feoffment upon which the statute
hath wrought.
Now followeth the third case of the The third cmb
statute, touching execution of rents; ^"Sle"*'*''
wherein the material words are four: ' mo^-^^s.
First, whereas divers persons are seised, which
hath bred a doubt that it should only go to rents
in use at the time of the statute ; but it is ex-
plained in the clause following, namely, as if a
grant had been made to them by such as are or
shall be seised.
The second word is profit; for in the putting of
the case, the statute speaketh of a rent; but
after in the purview is added these words, oi
profit.
The third word is, ac si, scilicet, that they
shall have the rent as if a sufficient grant or other
lawful conveyance had*bee"n made and executed
unto them.
The fourth words are, the words of liberty or
remedies attending upon such rent, scilicet, that
he shall distrain, &c., and have such suits, entries,
and remedies, relying again with an acsi, as if
the grant had been made with such collateral
penalties and advantages.
Now for the provisos ; the makers of this law
did so abound with policy and discerning, as
they did not only foresee such mischiefs as were
incident to this new law immediately, but like-
wise such as were consequent in a remote degree ;
and, therefore, besides the express provisos, they
did add three new provisos, which are in tliem-
selves subtractive laws : for, foreseeing that by
the execution of uses, wills formerly made should
be overthrown ; they nuide an ordinance for wills.
Foreseeing, likewise, that by execution of uses
women should be doubly advanced ; they made
an ordinance for dowers and jointures. Foresee-
ing, again, that the execution of use would make
frank-tenement pass by contracts pa-
, ,.•' ,. , 2 Inst. 672.
role, they made an ordinance tor enrol- Bcny v. Bow«i.
y , . , , ™, I VbDtr. 361.
ments oi bargains and sales. 1 he two
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
311
f.irmer they iasRrted into this law, and the third
tliey distinguished into a law apart, but without
any preamble as may appear, being but a pro-
viso to this statute. Besides all these provisional
laws; and besides five provisos, whereof three
attend upon the law of jointure, and two born in
Wales, which are not material to the purpose in
hand ; there are six provisos, which are natural
and true members and limbs of the statute,
wliereof four concern the part of cestuy que use,
and two concern the part of the feolfees. The
four which concern the part of cestuy que use, tend
all to save him from prejudice by the execution
of the estate.
Tlie first saveth him from the extinguishment
of any statute or recognisance, as if a man had
an extent of a hundred acres, and a use of the in-
heritance of one ; now, the statute, executing the
possession to that one, would have extinguished
his extent being entire in all the rest; or as if the
conuzee of a statute having ten acres liable to
the statute, had made a feoffment in fee to a
stranger of two, and after had made a feoff-
ment in fee to the use of the conuzee and his
heirs. And upon this proviso there arise three
questions:
First, whether this proviso were not super-
fluous, in regard that cestuy que use was compre-
hended in the general saving, though the feoffees
be excluded ]
Secondly, whether this proviso doth save sta-
tutes or executions, with an apportionment, or
entire 1
Thirdly, because it is penned indefinitely in
point of time, whether it shall go to uses limited
after the statute, as well as to those that were in
being at the time of Ihe statute ; which doubt is
rather enforced by this reason, because there was
for* uses at the time of the statute ; for that the
execution of the statute might be waved ; but
boih possession and use, since the statute may be
waved.
The second proviso saveth cestuy que use from
the charge of primer seisin, liveries, ouster ks
mairies, and such other duties to the king, with
an express limitation of time, that he shall be
discharged from the time past, and charged for
the time to come to the king, namely, May, 1536,
to be communis terminus.
The third proviso doth the like for fines, reliefs,
and herriots, discharging them from the time
past, and speaking nothing of the time to come.
The fourth proviso giveth to cestuy que use all
collateral benefits of vouchers, aid-priers, actions
of waste, trespass, conditions broken, and which
tiie feoffees might have had; and this is express-
ly limited for estates executed before May 1,
153t>. And this proviso giveth occasion to intend
that none of these benefits would have been car-
* The text here i« manifestly corrupted, nor does any pro-
bable conjecture occur for its amendment.
ried to cestuy que use, by the general words in the
body of the law, scilicet, that the feoffee's estate,
right, title, and possession, &c.
For the two provisos on the part of the terte-
nant, they both concern the saving of strangers
from prejudice, &c.
The first saves actions depending cheney'icMe.
against the feoffees, and that they shall """'• '***•
not abate.
The second saves wardships, liveries, and
ouster ks maines, whereof title was vested in re-
gard of the heir of the feoflTee, and this in case of
the king only.
WJiat persons may he seised to a use, and what not.
What persons may he cestuy que use, and what not.
What persons may declare a use, and what not.
Though I have opened the statute in
, ^ J \ T -11 1 Of the estate of
order of words, yet 1 wilf make my iheassurancerf
division in order of matter, namely, thlsdVy'^i^n
1. The raising of uses. First, the nit-
2. The interruption of uses. ""* " "^
3. The executing of uses.
Again, the raising of uses doth easily divide
itself into three parts. 1. The persons that are
actors to the conveyance to use. 2. The use
itself. 3. The form of the conveyance.
Then it is first to be seen what persons may be
seised to a use, and what not : and what persons
may be cestuy ^ue wse, and what not; and what
persons may declare a use, and what not.
The king cannot be seised to a use; ,.whatpfr«,n«
no, not where he taketh in his natural "<;"„''^.'*''^
body, and to some purpose as a com-
mon person; and, therefore, if land be given to
the king and I. D. pour tcrme de kur vies, this use
is void for a moiety.
Like law is, if the king be seised of land in the
right of his duchy of Lancaster, and covenanteth
by his letters patents under the duchy seal to
stand seised to the use of his son, nothing passeth.
Like law, if King R. IK. who was feoffor to
diverse uses before he took upon him the crown,
had, after he was king, by his letters patents
granted the land over, the uses had not been re-
newed.
The queen, not speaking of an imperial queen
by marriage, cannot be seised to a use, though
she be a body enabled to grant and purchase with-
out the king ; yet, in regard of the governnient and
interest the king hath in her possession, she
cannot be seised to a use.
A corporation cannot he seised to a use, be-
cause their capacity is to a use certain ; again,
because they cannot execute an estate without
doing wrong to their corporation or founder; but
chiefly because of the letter of this statute, which,
in any clause when it speaketh of the feofllee,
resteth only upon the word person, but when it
speaketh of cestuy que use, it addeth person or
body politic.
'612
READL\G ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
If a bishop barrrain and sell lands whereof he
is seised in the right of his see, this is good
during his life ; otherwise, it is where a bishop is
infeoffed to him and his successors, to the use of
I. D. and his heirs, that is not good, no, not for
the bishop's life, but the use is merely void.
y-idecmtra. Contrary law of tenant in tail ; for,
Krailkrvn. '^ ^ S^^^ '''"d by tail in deed, since the
cro.jac. 401. statute, to A., to the use of B. and his
heirs ; B. hath a fee-simple determinable upon
the death of A. M'ithout issue. And like law,
though doubtful before the statute was ; for the
chief reason which bred the doubt before the
statute, was because tenant in tail could not exe-
cute an estate without wrong; but that since the
statute is quite taken away, because the statute
saveth no right of entail, as the statute of 1 R.
III. did; and that reason likewise might have
been answered before the statute, in regard of the
common recovery.
A feme covert and an infant, though under
years of discretion, may be seised to a use ; for
as well as land might descend to them from a
feoffee to use, so may they originally be infeoffed
to a use ; yet, if it be before the statute, and they
had, upon a subpoena brought, executed their
estate during the coverture or infancy, they might
have defeated the same; and then they should
have been seised again to the use, and not to their
own use ; but since the statute, no right is saved
unto them.
If a feme covert or an infant be infeoffed to a
use present since the statute, the infant or baron
some too late to discharge or root up the feoffment ;
but if an infant be infeoffed to the use of himself
and his heirs, and I. D. pay such a sum of money
to the use of I G. and his heirs, the infant may
disagree and overthrow the contingent use.
Contrary law, if the infant be infeoffed to the
use of himself for life, the remainder to the use
of I. S. and his heirs, he may disagree to the
feoffment as to his own estate, but not to divest
the remainder, but it shall remain to the benefit of
riim in remainder.
And yet, if an attainted person be infeoffed to
a use, the king's title, after office found, shall
prevent the use, and relate above it; but until
office, the cestuy que use is seised of the land.
Like law of an alien; for if land be given to
an alien to a use, the use is not void ab initio, yet
neither alien or attainted person can maintain an
action to defend the land.
The king's villain, if he be infeoffed to a use,
the king's title shall relate above the use; other-
wise, in case of a common person.
But if the lord be infeoffed to the use of his
villain, the use neither riseth, but the lord is in
by the common law, and not by the statute dis-
charged of the use.
But if the husband be infeoffed to the use of
his wife for years, if he die, the wife shall have
the term, and it shall not inure by way of dis-
charge, although the husband may dispose of tlie
wife's term.
So if the lord of whom the land is held be in-
feoffed to the use of a persfm attainted, the lord
shall not hold by way of discharge of the use,
because of the king's tit\e., aniMm, diem el vasluin
A person uncertain is not within the stutute,
nor any estate in nubibus or suspense executed ;
as if I give land to I. S. the remainder to the
right heirs of I. D. to the use of I. N. and his
heirs, I. N. is not seised of the fee-simple of an
estate ^our vie of I. S. till I. D. be dead, and tlien
in fee-simple.
Like law, if, before the statute, 1 give land to
I. S. pour autr vie to a use, and I. S. dieth, living
cestuy que use, whereby the freehold is in sus-
pense, the statute cometh, and no occupant en-
tereth : the use is not executed out of the freehold
in suspense for the occupant, the disseisor, the
lord by escheat. The feoffee upon consideration,
not having notice, and all other persons which
shall be seised to use, not in regard of their per-
sons but of their title ; I refer them to my division
touching disturbance and interruption of uses.
It foUoweth now to see what person
, ^ ,„L 1 • 2. What persoa
may be a cestuy que use. ine king maj be a cesiuv
may be cestuy que use; but itbehoveth
both the declaration of the use, and the convey-
ance itself, to be matter of record, because the
king's title is compounded of both ; I say, not
appearing of record, but by conveyance of re-
cord. And, therefore, if I covenant with I. S. to
levy a fine to him to the king's use, which I do
accordingly ; and this deed of covenant be not
enrolled, and the deed be found by office, the use
vesteth not. E converso, if enrolled. If I cove-
nant with I. S. to infeoff him to the king's use,
and the deed be enrolled, and the feoffment also
be found by office, the use vesteth.
But if I levy a fine, or suffer a recovery to the
king's use, and declare the use by deed of cove-
nant enrolled, though the king be not party, yet it
is good enough.
A corporation may take a use, and yet it is not
material whether the feoffment or the declaration
be by deed ; but I may infeoff I. S. to the use of
a corporation, and this use may be averred.
A use to a person uncertain is not
void in the first limitation, but exe- person uncer-
cuteth not till the person be in esse ; so
that this is positive, that a use shall never be in
abeyance as a remainder may be, but ever in a
person certain upon the words of the statute, and
the estate of the feoffees shall be in him or them
which have the use. The reason is, because no
confidence can be reposed in a person unknown
and uncertain; and, therefore, if I make a feoff-
ment to the use of I. S. for life, and then to the
use of the right heirs of 1. 1)., the remainder is not
in abeyance, but the reversion is in the feoffor,
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
313
qumisque. So that upon the matter all persons
uncertain in use are like conditions or limitaiions
precedent.
Like.law, if I infeoff one to the use of I. S. for
years, the remainder to the rijrht heirs of I. D.
this is not executed in abeyance, and therefore not
void.
Like law, if I make a feoffment to the use of
my wife that shall be, or to such persons as I shall
maintain, thoujrh I limit no particular estate at
all ; yet the use is good, and shall in the interim
return to the feoffor.
Contrary law, if I once limit the
p""' '' whole fee-simple of the use out of me,
5 S»un<l. 38f;. , I c .
Q.chudidgh-i and part thereoi to a person uncertain,
1 Rep 129, 138. it shall never return to the feoffor by
157 Heyne'» i. Way of fraction of the use; but look
Bidlo"'! case, how it should havc gone unto the feof-
2 Ro. Abr. 791. -. ■ c 1 i ■ -.1
Mil. 721. for; if 1 begin with a contingent use,
Lioy" * so it shall go to the remainder ; if I en-
232, scaiier<Md tall a Contingent use, both estates are
3o<xiH^hiv. ■ alike subject to the contingent use when
2i6™" ' ' ■ it falleth ; as when I make a feoffment
ib'T'sT' "^"^ ' in fee to the use of my wife for life, the
Sir Ed. Lloyd . , , ,- i
T. carew. remainder to my first begotten son;
Free, ill Chan.
74. Mo. 506.
Ld.
I having no son at that time, the re-
ca*e. Ydv.37. maluder to my brother and his heirs : if
Clerk. s.^i'k. my wife die before I have any son, the
619.7 Rep. 14. ■ ,, .. .. • i . • .
use shall not be in me, but in my bro-
ther. And yet if I marry again, and have a son,
it shall divest from my brother, and be in my son,
which is the skipping they talk so much of.
So if I limit a use jointly to two persons, not in
esse, and the one corneth to be in esse, he shall
take the entire use ; and yet if the other afterward
come in esse, he shall take jointly with the for-
mer; as if I make a feoffment to the use of my
wife that shall be, and my first begotten son for
their lives, and I marry ; my wife taketh the whole
use, and if I afterwards have a son, he taketh
jointly with my wife.
But yet where words of abeyance work to an
estate executed in course of possession, it shall
do the like in uses; as if I infeoff A. to the use
of B. for life, the remainder to C, for life, the re-
mainder to the right heirs of B. this is a good re-
mainder executed.
So if I infeoff A. to the use of his right heirs,
A. is in the fee-simple, not by the statute, but by
the common law.
Now are we to examine a special point of the
disability of persons as lake by the statute: and
that upon the words of the statute, where divers
persons are seised to the use of other persons ; so
that by the letter of the statute, no use is con-
tained : but where the feoffor is one, and cestui/
que use is another.
Therefore it is to be seen in what cases the
same persons shall be both seised to the use and
cestuy que use, and yet in by the statute ; and in
what cases they shall be diverse persons, and ye*
Vol. III.— 40
in by the common law wherein I observe untu
you three things: First, that the letter is full in
the point. Secondly, that it is strongly urged by
the clause of joint estates following. 'I'hirdly,
that the whole scope of the statute was to remit
the common law, and never to intermeddle where
the common law executed an estate ; therefore the
statute ought to be expounded, that where the
party seised to the use, and the cestui/ que use is
one person, he never taketh by the statute, except
there be a direct impossibility or impertiiiency for
the use, to take effect by the common law.
As if I give land to I, S. to the use of himself
and his heirs, and if I. D. pay a sum of money,
then to the use of I. D. and his heirs, I. S. is in by
the common law, and not by the statutes.
Like law is, if I give lands to I. S. and his
heirs, to the use of himself for life or for years,
and then to the use of I. D. and his heirs, I. S. is
in of an estate for life, or for years, byway of
abridgment of estate in course of possession, and
I. D. in of the fee-simple by the statute.
So if I bargain and sell my land after seven
years, the inheritance of the use only passeth ;
and there remains an estate for years
by a kind of subtraction of the inheri- fee simple re-
. „ , mains, per lA
tance or reoccupier of my estate, but c.j uaie.io
, , '^ , -^ Weale v. Low-
merely at the common law. er, foii. 65,66.
But if I infeoff I. S. to the use of infra, a R»ym.
himself in tail, and then to the use of
I. D. in fee, or covenant to stand seised to the
use of myself in tail, and then to the use of my
wife in fee ; in both these cases the estate tail is
executed by this statute: because an estate tail
cannot be reoccupied out of a fee-simple, being a
new estate, and not like a particular estate for life
or years, which are but portions of the absolute
fee; and, therefore, if I bargain and seeMr. sun-
sell my land to 1. S. after my death i'SibTtx.
without issue, it doth not leave an es- ^n,^",^'^' '^'
tate tail in me, nor vesteth any present '-^nJ-^^s-
fee in the bargain, but is a use expectant.
So if I infeoff I. S. to the use of L D. for life,
and then to the use of himself and his heirs, he
is in of the fee-simple merely in course of pos-
session, and as of a reversion, and not of a re-
mainder.
Contrary law, if I infeoff 1. S. to the use of
I. D. for life, then to the use of himself for life,
the remainder to the use of I. N. in fee : now the
law will not admit fraction of estates ; but I. S.
is in with the rest by the statute.
So if I infeoff I. S. to the use of himself and
a stranger, they shall be both in by the statute,
because they could not take jointly, taking by
several titles.
Like law, if I infeoff a bishop and onb. uj :o
his heirs to the use of himself and his «* ^ugd. ik
successors, he is in by the statute in the right of
his see.
And as I cannot raise a present use to one out
2D
314
READING ON THE STATUTE OF USES.
of his own seisin; so if I limit a contingent or
future use to one being at the time of limitation
no* seised, but after become seised at the time of
the execution of the contingent use, there is the
same reason and the same law, and upon the
same difference which I have put before.
As if I covenant with my son, that, after his
marriage, I will stand seised of land to the use of
himself and his heirs; and, before marriage, I in-
feoff" him to the use of himself and his heirs, and
then he marrieth ; he is in by the common law, and
not by the statute; like law of a bargain and sale.
But if I had let to him for life only, then he
should have been in for life only by the common
law, and of the fee-simple by the statute. Now
let me advise you of this, that it is only a matter
cf subtilty or conceit to take the law right, when
a man cometh in by the law in course of posses-
This learning slou, and whcre he cometh in by the
adi'n^ma'^y'''' statutc in coursc of posscsslon ; but it
question,. jg n^tyral for the deciding of many
causes and questions, as for warranties, actions,
conditions, waivers, suspensions, and divers
other provisos.
For example ; a man's farmer committed waste:
after he in reversion covenanteth to stand seised
to the use of his wife for life, and after to the use
of himself and his heirs ; his wife dies ; if he be
in of his fee untouched, he shall punish the waste;
if he be in by the statute, he shall not punish it.
So if I be infeoffed with warranty, and I cove-
nant with my son to stand seised to the use of my-
self for life, and after to him and his heirs ; if I be
in by the statute, it is clear my warranty is gone;
but if I be in by the common law, it is doubtful.
So if I have an eigne right, and be infeoff'ed to
the use of I. S. for life, then to the use of myself
for life, then to the use of I. D. in fee, I. S. dieth.
If I be in by the common law, I cannot waive my
estate, having agreed to the feoffment; but if I
am in by the statute, yet I am not remitted, be-
cause I come in by my own act : but I may waive
my use, and bring an action presently ; for my
right is saved unto me by one of the savings in
the statute.
Now on the other side it is to be
Where there is . . .
aseisiniothe Seen, wherc IS a seisin to the use oi
and yet it' is out auothcr persou ; and vet it is out of the
of the statute. ' . , . . •' . ,
Statute which is in special cases upon
the ground, wheresoever cestuy que use had re-
medy for the possession by course of common
law, there the statute never worketh; and there-
fore if a disseisin were committed to a use, it is
in him by the common law upon agreement. So
if one enter as occupant to the use of another, it
is in him till disagreement.
So if a feme infeolT a man, causa matrimoini
prxioculi, she hath remedy for the land again by
yourse of the law ; and, therefore, in those spe-
;ial cases the statute worketh not ; and yet the
son stands seised by force of my fine, recoveiy,
feoffment, bargain and sale, agreement or other-
wise ; but yet the feme is to be restrained for the
reason aforesaid.
It remaineth to show what persons
.... Ill , What pe«oD«
may limit and declare a use: wherein may linnt and
1 . . . , f. , declare a ute.
we must distinguish ; for there are two
kinds of declarations of uses,' the one of a pre-
sent use upon the first conveyance, the other upon
a power of revocation or new declaration; the
latter of which I refer to the division of revoca-
tion : now for the former.
The king upon his letters patent may declare a
use, though the patent itself implieth a use, if
none be declared.
If the king gives lands by his letters patent to
I. S. and his heirs, to the use of I. S. for life, the
king hath the inheritance of the use by implication
of the patent, and no office needeth ; for implica-
tion out of matter of record amounteth ever to mat-
ter of record.
If the queen give land to I, S. and his heirs to
theuseofthechurchwardens of the church of Dale,
the patentee is seised to his own use, upon that
confidence or intent ; but if a common person had
given land in that manner, the use had been void
by the statute of 23 H. VIII., and the use had
returned to the feoffor and his heirs. A corpora-
tion may take a use wiriiout deed, as hath been
said before; but can limit no use without deed.
An infant may limit a use upon a feoffment,
fine, or recovery, and he cannot countermand or
avoid the use, except he avoid the conveyance :
contrary, if an infant covenant in consideration of
blood or marriage to stand seised to a use, the use
is merely void.
If an infant bargain and sell his land for money,
for commons or teaching, it is good with aver-
ment; if for money, otherwise; if it be proved it
is avoidable; for money recited and not paid, it is
void ; and yet in the case of a man of full age the
recital sufficeth.
If baron and feme be seised in the yid. a Beck,
right of the feme, or by joint purchase cJlumMtr^'
during the coverture, and they join in '"'■"•
a fine, the baron cannot declare the use for longer
time than the coverture, and the feme cannot de-
clare alone ; but the use goeth, according to the
limitation of law, unto the feme and her heirs;
but they may both join in declaration of the use
in fee; and if they sever, then it is good for so
much of the inheritance as they concurred in ; for
the law accounteth all one, as if they joined ; as
if the baron and feme declare a use to I. S. and
his heirs, and the feme another to I. D.
- _, , , . , . SeeGilb.Us.
for life, and then to I. S. and his heirs, ed. sugd. 448,
the use is good to I. S. in fee.
And if upon exan ination the femewill declare the
use to the judge, and her husband agree not to it, it
is void, and the baron's use is only good ; the rest
vords of the statute are general, where any per- of the use goeth according to the limitation of law.
THE
OFFICE OF CONSTABLES,
ORIGINAL AND USE OF
COURTS LEET, SHERIFF'S TURN, ETC.,
WITH
THE ANSWERS TO THE QUESTIONS PROPOUNDED
BY SIR ALEXANDER HAY, KNIGHT, TOUCHING THE OFFICE OF CONSTABLES, a. D. 1608.
1. Question. What is the original of constables 1
Answer. To the first question of the original of
constables it may be said, caput inter nubila con-
dit ; for the authority was granted upon the an-
cient laws and customs of this kingdom practised
long before the conquest, and intended and execu-
ted for conservation of peace, and repression of all
manner of disturbance and hurt of tho people, and
that as well by way of prevention as punishment;
but yet so, as they have no judicial power, to hear
and determine any cause, but only a ministerial
power, as in the answer to the seventh article is
demonstrated.
As for the office of high or head constable, the
original of that is yet more obscure; for though
the high constable's authority hath the more am-
ple circuit, he being over the hundred, and the
petty constable over the village ; yet I do not find
that the petty constable is subordinate to the high
constable, or to be ordered or commanded by him;
and therefore, I doubt, the high constable was not
ab ori^ine ,■ but that when the business of the
county increased, the authority of justices of peace
was enlarged by divers statutes, and then, for
conveniency sake, the office of high constable
grew in use for the receiving of the command-
ments and prescripts from the justices of peace,
and distributing them to the petty constables :
and in token of this, the election of high constable
in most parts of the kingdom is by the appoint-
ment of the justices of the peace, whereas, the
election of the petty constable is by the people.
But there are two things unto which the office
of constables hath special reference, and which,
of necessity, or at least a kind of congruity, must
precede the jurisdiction of that office; either the
things themselves, or something that hath a
similitude or analogy towards them.
1. The division of the territory, or gross of
the shires, into hundreds, villages, and towns;
lor the high constable is officer over the hundred,
and the petty constable is over the town or
village.
2. The court-leet, unto which the constable is
attendant and minister; for there the constables
are chosen by the jury, there sworn, and there
that part of their office which concerneth infor-
mation is principally to be performed : for the
jury being to present offijnces and offi^nders, are
chiefly to take light from the constable of all
matters of disturbance and nuisance of the peo-
ple : which they, in respect of their office, are
presumed to have best and most particular know-
ledge of.
The jurisdiction of the court-leet is to three ends.
1. To take the ancient oath of allegiance of all
males above twelve years.
2. To inquire of all offences against the peace;
and for those that are against the crown and peace
of both, to inquire of only, and ctrtify to the
justices of jail delivery; but those that are
against the peace simply, they are to inquire of
and punish.
3. To inquire of, punish, and remove all public
nuisances and grievances concerning infection of
air, corruption of victuals, ease of chaffer, and
contract of all ether things that may hurt or
grieve the people in general, in their health, quiet,
and welfare.
And to these three ends, as matters of policy
subordinate, the court-leet hath power to call
upon the pledges that are to be taken of the good
behaviour of the resiants that are not tenants,
and to inquire of all defaults of officers, as con-
stables, ale-tasters, and the like : and likewise foi
the choice of constables, as was said.
The jurisdiction of these leets is either remain
ing in the king, and in that case exercised by the
sheriff in his turn, which is the grand leet, or
granted over to subjects; but yet it is still ih«
king's court.
315
31(
OFFICE OF CONSTABLES.
2. Question. Concerning the election of con-
stables 1
Jnswer. The election of the petty constable,
as was said, is at the court-leet by the inquest
that make the presentreients ; and election of head
constables is by the justices of the peace at their
quarter sessions.
3. Question. How long is their ofRcel
Answer. The office of constable is annual, ex-
cept they be removed.
4. Question. Of what rank or order of men
are they ?
Answer. They be men, as it is now used, of
inferior, yea, of base condition, which is a mere
abuse or degenerating from the first institution ;
for the petty constables in towns ought to be of
the better sort of resiants in the same ; save that
they be not aged or sickly, but of able bodies in
respect of keeping watch and toil of their place;
nor must they be in any man's livery. The high
constables ought to be of the ablest freeholders,
and substantialest sort of yeomen, next to the
degree of gentlemen; but should not be incum-
bered with any other office, as mayor of a town,
under-sheriff, bailiff, &c.
5. Question. What allowance have the con-
stables ?
Answer. They have no allowance, but are
bound by duty to perform their office gratis;
which may the rather be endured because it is but
annual, and they are not tied to keep or maintain
nny servants or under-ministers, for that every
one of the king's people within their limits are
bound to assist them.
t). Question. What if they refuse to do their
office?
Aiiswer. Upon complaint made of their refusal
to any one justice of peace, the said justice may
bind them over to the sessions, where, if they
cannot excuse themselves by some allegation that
is just, they may be fined and imprisoned for
their contempt.
7. Question. What is their authority or power?
Answer. The authority of the constable, as it
is substantive, and of itself, or substituted, and
astricted to the warrants and commands of the
justices of the peace ; so again it is original, or
additional : for eitiier it was given them by the j
common law, or else annexed by divers statutes. I
And as for subordinate power, wherein the con- j
stable is only to execute the commands of the
justices of peace, likewise the additional power
which is given by divers statutes, it is hard to
comprehend in any brevity ; for that they do cor- j
respond to the office and authority of justices of
peace, which is very large, and are created by
the branches of several statutes: but for the ori-
ginal and substantive power of constables, it
may be reduced to three heads; namely,
1. For matter of peace only.
2. For peace and the crown.
3. For matters of nuisance, disturbance, and
disorder, although they be not accompanied with
violence and breach of the peace.
First, for pacifying of quarrel begun, the con-
stable may, upon hot words given, or likelihood
of breach of the peace to ensue, command them
in the king's name to keep peace, and depart, and
forbear : and so he may, where an affray is made
part of the same, and keep the parties asimder,
and arrest and commit the breakers of the peace,
if they will not obey; and call power to assist
him for that purpose.
For punishment of breach of peace past, the
law is very sparing in giving any authority to
constables because they have not power judicial,
and the use of his office is rather for preventing
or staying of mischief, than for punishment of
offences ; for in that part he is rather to execute
the warrants of the justices; or when sudden
matter ariseth upon his view, or notorious cir-
cumstances, to apprehend offenders, and to carry
them before the justices of peace, and generally
to imprison in like cases of necessity, where the
case will not endure the present carrying of the
party before the justices. And so much for peace.
Secondly, for matters of the crown, the office
of the constable consisteth chiefly in these four
parts :
1. To arrest.
2. To make hue and cry.
3. To search.
4. To seize goods.
All which the constable may perform of hii
own authority, without any warrant from the
justices of the peace.
1. For, first, if any man will lay murder or
felony to another's charge, or do suspect him of
murder or felony, he may declare it to the con-
stable, and the constable ought, upon such de-
claration or complaint, to carry him before a
justice of peace; and if by common voice or
fame any man be suspected, the constable of duty
ought to arrest him, and bring him before a justice
of peace, though there be no other accusation or
declaration.
2. If any house be suspected for receiving or
harbouring of any felon, the constalble, upon com-
plaint or common fame, may search.
3. If any fly upon the felony, the constable
ought to raise hue and cry.
4. And the constable ought to seize his goods,
and keep them safe without impairing, and in
ventary them in presence of honest neighbours.
Thirdly, for matters of common nuisance and
grievances, they are of very variable nature, ac-
cording to the several comforts which man's life
and society requireth, and the contraries which
infest the same.
In all which, be it a matter of corrupting air,
water, or victuals, stopping, straightening, or
endangering of passages, or general deceits in
OFFICE OF CONSTABLES.
817
<veignts, measures, size?, or counterfeiting' wares,
and ihinufs vendible; the office of constable is to
give as much as in him lies, information of them,
and of the offenders, in leets, that they may be
presented ; but because leets are kept but twice
in the year, and many of those things require
present and speedy remedy, the constable, in
things notorious and of vulgar nature, ought to
forbid and repress them in the mean time: if not,
they are for their contempt to be fined and im-
prisoned, or both, by the justices in their sessions.
8. Question. What is their oath ]
Answer. The manner of the oath they take is
as followeth :
" You shall swear that you shall well and truly
serve the king, and the lord of this law-day ; and
you shall cause the peace of our sovereign lord
the king well and truly to be kept to your power:
and you shall arrest all those that you see com-
mitting riots, debates, and affrays in breach of
peace : and you shall well and truly endeavour
yourself to your best knowledge, that the
statute of Winchester for watching, hue and
cry, and the statutes made for tlie punishment of
sturdy beggars, vagabonds, rogues, and other idle
persons coming within your office be truly exe-
cuted and the offenders be punished: and you
shall endeavour, upon complaint made, to appre-
hend barreters and riotous persons making affrays,
and likewise to apprehend felons; and if any of
them make resistance with force, and multitude
of misdemeanours, you shall make outcry, and
pursue them till they be taken; and shall look
unto such persons as use unlawful games; and
you shall have regard unto the maintenance of
artillery ; and you shall well and truly execute
all process and precepts sent unto you from the
justices of the peace of the county ; and you shall
make good and faithful presentments of all blood-
sheds, outcries, affrays, and rescues made within
your office: and you shall well and truly accord-
ing to your own power and knowledge, do that
which belongeth to your office of constable to do,
for this year to come. So help," &c.
9. Question, What difference is there betwixt
the high constables and petty constables]
Jiiswer. Their authority is the same in sub-
Btanco, differing only in the extent; the petty
constable serving only for one town, parish, or
borough, the head constable for the whole hun-
dred : nor is the petty constable subordinate to
the head constable for any commandment that
proceeds from his own authority; but it is used,
that the precepts of the justices be delivered unto
the hiixh constables, who, being few in number,
may better attend the justices, and then the head
constables, by virtue tliereof, make their precepts
over to the petty constables.
10. Question. Whether a constable may appoint
a deputy I
Answer. In case of necessity a constable may
appoint a deputy, or in default thereof, the steward
of the court-leet may; which deputy ought to be
sworn before the said steward.
The constable's office consists in three things:
1. Conservation of the peace.
2. Serving precepts and warrants
3. Attendance for the execution of statutes.
Of the Jurisdiction of Justices itinerant in the Prin-
cipality of Wales.
1. They have power to hear and determine all
criminal causes, which are called, in the laws of
England, pleas of the crown; and herein they
have the same jurisdiction that the justices have
in the court of the King's Bench.
2. They have power to hear and determine all
civil causes, which in the laws of England are
called common pleas, and to take knowledge of
all fines levied of lands or hereditaments, without
suing any dedimus poiestatem ; and herein they
have the same jurisdiction that the justices of the
Common Pleas do execute at Westminster.
3. They have power also to hear and determine
all assizes upon disseisin of lands or heredita-
ments, wherein they equal the jurisdiction of the
justices of assize.
4. Justices of oyer and terminer therein may
hear all notable violences and outrages perpe-
trated within their several precincts in the said
principality of Wales.
The prothonotary's office is to draw Th«e offices are
all pleadings, and entereth and engros- ""'"^ king's «'"•
seth all the records and judgments in all trivial
causes.
The clerk of the crown, his office is to draw
and engross all proceedings, arraignments, and
judgments in criminal causes.
The marshal's office is to attend the Thpseofficw
persons of the judges at their coming, "SJ^Jdlspo.
sitting, and going from their sessions """"•
or court.
The crier is, tanquam publicus prarco, to call for
such persons whose appearances are necessary,
and to impose silence to the people.
The Office nf Justice of Peace.
There is a commission under the nieotfceotp*-
great seal of England to certain gen- "" "f p«»<:'-
tlemen, giving them power to preserve the pea(;e,
and to resist and punish all turbulent persons,
whose misdemeanors may tend to the disquiet of
the people; and these be called justices of the
peace, and every of them may well and truly be
called eirenarcha.
The chief of them is called custos rofulorum,
in whose custody all the records of their prt)-
ceedings are resident.
Others there are of that number called jus-
tices of peace and quorum, because in their
commission they have power to sit and determine
causes concerning breach of peace and misbeha-
2d2
318
OFFICE OF CONSTABLES.
viour. The words of their commission are con-
ceived thus : quorum such and such, unum vel
duos, &c., esse volumusj and without some one or
more of the quorum, no sessions can he holden;
and for the avoiding of a superfluous number of
such justices, (for, through the ambition of many
ju.ticeof it is counted a credit to be burthened
iTe'S'""" with that authority,) the statute of 38
keeper. ^ yill. hath expressly prohibited
that there shall be but eight justices of the peace
in every county. These justices hold their ses-
sions quarterly.
In every shire where the commission of the
peace is established, there is a clerk of the peace
for the entering and engrossing of all proceedings
before the said justices. And this officer is ap-
pointed by the custos rotulorum.
The Office of Sheriffs.
Every shire hath a sheriff, which word, being
of the Saxon English, is as much as to say, shire-
reeve, or minister of the county : his function or
office is twofold, namely,
1. Ministerial.
2. Judicial.
1 . He is the minister and executioner
of all the process and precepts of the
courts of law, and therefore ought to make return
and certificate.
2. The sheriff hath authority to hold two seve-
ral courts of distinct natures: I. The turn, be-
cause he keepeth his turn and circuit about the
shire, holdeth the same court in several places,
wherein he doth inquire of all offences perpetrated
against the common law, and not forbidden by
any statute or act of Parliament; and the juris-
diction of this court is derived from justice distri-
butive, and is for criminal offences, and held twice
every year.
The county court, wherein he doth determine
all petty and small causes civil under the value
of forty shillings, arising within the said county,
and, therefore, it is called the county court.
The jurisdiciion of this court is derived from
justice commutative, and held every month. The
office of the sheriff is annual, and in the king's
{jift, whereof he is to have a patent.
The Office of Escheator.
Every shire hath an officer called an escheator,
w hich is to attend the king's revenue, and to seize
into his majesty's hands all lands escheated, and
goods or lands forfeited, and therefore is called
escheator; and he is to inquire by good incjuest
of the death of the king's tenant, and to whom
the lands are descended, and to seize their bodies
and lands for ward, if they be within age, and is
accountable for the same; he is named or ap
pointed by the Lord Treasurer of England.
The Office of Coroner
Two other officers there are in every county
called coroners ; and by their office they are to
inquest in what manner, and by whom every
person, dying of a violent death, came so to their
death ; and to enter the same of record ; which
is matter criminal, and a plea of the crown : and,
therefore, they are called coroners, or crowners,
as one hath written, because their inquiry ought
to be in corona populi.
These officers are chosen by the freeholders of
the shire, by virtue of a writ out of the chancery
d: coronatore eligendo: and of whom I need not
to write more, because these officers are in use
everywhere.
General Observations, touching Constables, Jailers,
and Bailiffs.
Forasmuch as every shire is divided into linn
dreds, there are also by the statute of 34 H. VIII.
cap. 26, ordered and appointed, that two sufficient
gentlemen or yeomen shall be appointed con-
stables of every hundred.
Also, there is in every shire a jail or prison
appointed for the restraint of liberty of such per-
sons as for their offences are thereunto com-
mitted, until they shall be delivered by course
of law.
In every hundred of every shire the sheriff
thereof shall nominate sufficient persons to be
bailiffs of that hundred, and under-ministers of
the sheriff; and they are to attend upon the
justices in every of their courts and ses-
sions.
Note. Archbishop Sancroft notes on this last
chapter, written, say some, by Sir John Dodde-
ridge, one of the justices of the King's Bench,
1608.
ACCOUNT OF THE LATELY ERECTED SERVICE,
CALLED THE OFFICE OF
COMPOSITIONS FOR ALIENATIONS.
WRITTEN [ABOUT THE CLOSE OF 1508] BY MR. FRANCIS BACON,
AND PUBLISHED FROM A MS. IN THE INNER-TEMPLE LIBRARY.
All the finances or revenues of the
lort'iTitll imperial crown of this realm of Eng-
royal revenue. , i , . , i • i •
landbeeitherextraordinary or ordinary.
Those extraordinary be fifteenths and tenths,
subsidies, loans, benevolences, aids, and such
others of that kind, that have been or shall be
invented for supportation of the charges of war;
the which, as it is entertained by diet, so can it
not be long maintained by the ordinary fiscal and
receipt.
Of these that be ordinary, some are certain and
standing, as the yearly rents of the demesne or
lands; being either of the ancient possessions
of the crown, or of the later augmentations of
the same.
Likewise the fee-farms reserved upon charters
granted to cities and towns corporate, and the
blanch rents and lath silver answered by the
sheriffs. The residue of these ordinary finances
be casual, or uncertain, as be the escheats and
forfeitures, the customs, butlerage, and impost,
the advantages coming by the jurisdiction of the
courts of record and clerks of the market, the
temporalities of vacant bishoprics, the profits that
grow by the tenures of lands, and such like, if
there any be.
And albeit that both the one sort and other of
these be at the last brought unto that office of her
majesty's exchequer, which we, by a metaphor,
do call the pipe, as the civilians do by
'"'*' a like translation mame it Jisais, a
basket or bag, because the whole receipt is finally
conveyed into it by the means of divers small
pipes or quills, as it were water into a great head
or cistern ; yet, nevertheless, some of the same be
first and immediately left in other several places
and courts, from whence they are afterwards car-
ried by silver streams, to make up that great
lake, or sea, of money.
As for example, the profits of wards and their
lands be answered into that court which is pro-
per for them ; and the fines for all original writs,
and for causes that pass the great seal, were wont
to be immediately paid into the hanaper
of the chancery ; howbeit, now of late ' '^'"''"'
years, all the sums which are due, either for any
writ of covenant, or of other sort, wh( reupon a
final concord is to be levied in the common bench,
or for any writ of entry, whereupon a common
recovery is to be suffered there; as also all sums
demandable, either for license of alienation to be
made of lands holden in chief, or for the pardon
of any such alienation, already made without
license, together with the mean profits that be
forfeited for that offence and trespass, have been
stayed in the way to the hanaper, and been let to
farm, upon assurance of three hundred pounds of
yearly standing profit, to be increased
•^ , , *^ , , This office is
over and above that casual commo- derived ™t i.f
dity, that was f)und to be answered
in the hanaper for them, in the ten years, one
with another, next before the making of the same
lease.
And yet so as that yearly rent of increase is
now still paid into the hanaper by four gross por-
tions, not altogether equal, in the four usual open
terms of St. Michael, and St. Hilary, of Easter,
and the Holy Trinity, even as the former casualty
itself was wont to be, in parcel meal, brought in
and answered there.
And now forasmuch as the only mat- jhenameof
ter and subject about which this far- ""=•'*"•
mer or his deputies are employed, is to rate or
compound the sums of money payable to her
majesty, for the alienation of lands that are either
made without license, or to be made by license,
if they be holden in chief, or to pass for common
recovery, or by final concord to be levied, though
they be not so holden, their service may therefore
very aptly and agreeably be termed '.he oflice of
compositions for alienations. Whether the ad
vancement of her majesty's commodity in this
319
320
THE OFFICE OF ALIENATIONS.
part of her prerogative, or the respect of private
lucre, or both, were the first motives thus to dis-
sever tliis member, and thereby as it were to
mayhem the chancery, it is neither my part noi
purpose to dispute.
The scope of ^ut, for a full institutioii of the ser-
indlhTparu ^ife as it now standeth, howsoever
thereof. somc men have not spared to speak
hardly thereof, I hold worthy my labour to set
down as followeth :
First, that these fines, exacted for such aliena-
tions, be not only of the greatest antiquity, but
are also good and reasonable in themselves; se-
condly,that the modern and present exercise of this
office is more commendable than was the former
usage; and, lastly, that as her majesty hath re-
ceived great profit thereby, so may she, by a
moderate hand, from time to time reap the like,
and that without just grief to any of her subjects.
The fint part -^s the lands that are to be aliened,
of ihis treatise. j,g gjjj^gj. immediately holden in chief,
or not so holden of the queen, so be these fines
or sums respectively of two sundry sorts; for
upon each alienation of lands, immediately held
of her majesty in chief, the fine is rated here,
either upon the license, before the alienation is
made, or else upon the pardon when it is made
without license. But generally, for every final
concord of lands to be levied upon a writof cove-
n;nt, wnrraniia chartx, or other writ, upon which
it m ly be orderly levied, the sum is rated here
upon the original writ, whether the lands be held
of the queen, or of any other person; if at the
least the lands be of such value, as they may
yield the due fine. And likewise for every writ
of entry, whereupon a common recovery is to be
suffered, the queen's fine is to be rated there upon
the writ original, if the lands comprised therein
he held of her by the tenure of her prerogative,
that is to say, in chief, or of her royal person.
Thekine's ^^ ^^'^^ I 31" hereby enforced, for
ro"'d'ne"ve?'°' avoiding of confusiou, to speak seve-
ncenw'^'"""'' ^^^'Y' fii'st of the fines for alienation of
lands held in chief, and then of the
fines upon the suing forth of writs original. That
the king's tenant in chief could not in ancient
time alien his tenancy without the king's license,
I E. in. '^ appeareth by the statute, 1 E. III.
■^•'^ cap. 12, where it is thus written:
"Whereas divers do complain that the lands
holden of the king in chief, and aliened without
license, have been aeized into the king's hands
for such alienation, and holden as forfeit: the
king shall not hold them as forfeit in such a case,
Dut granteth that, upon such alienations, there
shall be reasonable fines taken in the chancery
by due process.
So that it is hereby proved, that before this sta-
tute, the offence of such alienation, without
license, was taken to be so great, that the tenant
did forfeit the land thereby ; and, consequently.
that he found great favour there by this statute, to
be reasonably fined for his trespass.
And although we read an opinion 20 lib. Jlsah.
pari, 17, et 2(j, J]ssis. pari. .37, which also is re.
peated by Hankf. 14 H. IV. fid. 3, in which year
Magna Charta was confirmed by him, the king's
tenant in chief might as freely alien his lands
without license, as might the tenant of any other
lord ; yet, forasmuch as it appeareth not by what
statute the law was then changed, I haj rather
believe, with old Judge Thorpe and late Justice
Stanford, that even at the common law, which is
as much as to say, as from the beginning of our
tenures, or from the beginning of the English
monarchy, it was accounted an offence in the
king's tenant in chief, to alien without the royal
and express license.
And I am sure, that not only upon the entering,
or recording, of such a fine for alienation, it is
wont to be said pro trans ^ressione in hue parte
facta ; but that you niay also read amongst the
records in the Tower, Fines 6 Hen. Reg. 3, Mernb.
4, a precedent of a capias in manum reikis terras
alicimtus sine h'centia regis, and that, namely, of
the manor of Coselescombe in Kent, whereof
Robert Cesterton was then the king's tenant in
chief. But were it that, as they say, this began
first 20 H. III., yet it is above three hundred and
sixty years old, and of equal, if not more anti-
quity than INIagna Charta itself, and the rest of
our most ancient laws; the which never found
assurance by Parliament until the time of King-
Edward I., who may be therefore worthily called,
our English Solon or Lycurgus.
Now, therefore, to proceed to the rea-
, ■,_ c ■ 1 n The fine for
son and equity of exacting these fines aii<-naiip„ „
for such alienations, it standeth thus:
when the king, whom our law understandeth to
have been at the first both the supreme lord of all
the persons, and sole owner of all the lands within
his dominions, did give lands to any subject to
hold them of himself, as of his crown and royal
diadem, he vouchsafed that favour upon a chosen
and selected man, not minding that any other
should, without his privity and good liking, be
made owner of the same; and, therefore, his gift
has this secret intention enclosed within it, that if
his tenant and patentee shall dispose of the same
without his kingly assent first obtained, the lands
shall revert to the king, or to his successors, that
first gave them. And that also was the very
cause, as I take it, why they were anciently
seized into the king's hands, as forfeited by such
alienation, until the making of the said statute,
1 E. III., which did qualify that rigour of the
former law.
Neither ought this to seem strange in the case
of the king, when every common subject, being
lord of lands which another holdeth of him, ought
notonlv to have notice given unto him upon every
alienation of his tenant, but shall, by the like iin-
THE OFFICE OF ALIENATIONS.
321
plied intention, re-have the lands of his tenants
ilyinir without heirs, though they were given out
never so many years agone, and have passed
through the hands of howsoever many and strange
possessors.
Not without good warrant, therefore, said Mr.
Fitzherbert, in his Nat. Brev. fol. 147, that the
justices ought not wittingly to suffer any fine to
be levied of lands holden in chief, without the
king's license. And as this reason is good and
forcible, so is the equity and moderation of the
fine itself most open and apparent; for how easy
a thing is it to redeem a forfeiture of the whole
lands forever with the profits of one year, by the
purchase of a pardon 1 Or otherwise, how tole-
rable is it to prevent the charge of that pardon,
with the only cost of a third part thereof, timely
and beforehand bestowed upon a license ]
The antiquity Touchiug the king's fines accustom-
of^fin^tX'™ ^b^y P^i^ fo"^ ^^^ purchasing of writs
writs original, original, I find no certain beginning of
them, and do therefore think that they also grew
up with the chancery, which is the shop wherein
they be forged ; or, if you will, with the first
ordinary jurisdiction and delivery of justice itself.
F^or, when, as the king had erected his courts
of ordinary resort, for the help of his subjects in
suit one against another, and was at the charge
not only to wage justices and their ministers, but
also to appoint places and ofiicers for safe custody
of the records that concerned not himself; by
which means each man might boldly both crave
and have law for the present, and find memorials
also to maintain his right and recovery, forever
after, to the singular benefit of himself and all
his posterity ; it was consonant to good reason,
that the benefited subject should render some
small portion of his gain, as well towards the
maintenance of this his own so great commodity,
as for the supportation of the king's expense, and
the reward of the labour of them that were wholly
employed for his profit.
i.itt.34H6. ^^^ therefore it was well said by
'"'•'='» ' ' Littleton, 34 H. VI. fol. 38, that the
chancellor of England is not bound to make
writs, without his due fee for the writing and
seal of them. And that, in this part also, you
may have assurance of good antiquity, it is ex-
tant among the records in the Tower, 2 H. III.
Memb. fi, that Simon Hales and others gave unto
him their king, unum pnlfredum pro summonendo
Ri char do Jilio et hxrede Willi el mi de Ilanred, quod
teneat Jineni factum coram justiciar iis apud North-
ampton inter dictum Willielmum et palrem dicti
Jirnnldi de feodo in Barton. And besides that,
tn uhlatis de Jinn. 1, 2, and 7, reiris Johannis,
fines were diversely paid to the king, upon the
purchasing writs of mort d'auncestor, dower,
pone, to remove pleas, for inquisitions, trial by
juries, writs of sundry summons, and other more.
llerenf then it is, that upon every writ pro-
VoL. Ill —41
cured for debt or damage, amounting to forty
pounds or more, a noble, that is, six shillings and
eight pence, is, and usually hath been paid to
fine : and so for every hundred marks more a
noble; and likewise upon every writ called a
praecipe of lands, exceeding the yearly value of
forty shillings, a noble is given to a fine; and for
every other five marks by year, moreover another
noble, as is set forth 20 R. II. abridged
both by Justice Fitzherbert and Justice
Brooke; and may also appear in the old Na-
tura Brevium, and the Register, which have a
proper writ of deceipt, formed upon the case,
where a man did, in the name of another, purchase
such a writ in the chancery without his know-
ledge and consent. ^
And herein the writ of right is excepted, and
passeth freely, not for fear of the words Magna
Charta, Nulli vendemus justitiam vel rectum, as
some do phantasy, but rather because it is rarely
brought; and then also bought dearly enough
without such a fine, for that the trial may be by
battle, to the great hazard of the champion.
The like exemption hath the writ to inquire of
a man's death, which also, by the twenty-sixth
chapter of that Magna Charta, must be granted
freely, and without giving any thing for it;
which last I do rather no^e, because it may be
well gathered thereby, thut even then all those
other writs did lawfully answer their due fines;
for otherwise the like prohibition would have
been published against them, as was in this case
of the inquisition itself.
I see no need to maintain the mediocrity and
easiness of this last sort of fine, which in lands
exceedeth not the tenth part of one year's value,
in goods the two hundredth part of the thing that
is demanded by the writ.
Neither has this office of ours* ori-
ginally to meddle with the fines of any .omf nordof
" , •' . . , ., ,1 /• 1 1 the like import,
other original writs, than ot such only .eeimtobe
, - , , omitted here.
as whereupon a fine or concord may be
had and levied ; which is commonly the writ of
covenant, and rarely any other. For we deal not
with the fine of the writ of entry of lands holden
in chief, as due upon the original writ itself; but
only as payable in the nature of a license for the
alienation, for which the third part of the yearly
rent is answered ; as the statute 32 H. VIII, cap.
1, hath specified, giving the direction for it;
albeit now lately the writs of entry be made
parcel of the parcel ferm also ; and therefore I
will here close up the first part, and unfold the
second.
Before the institution of this ferm
- . - r I '^^ «ecnnd
and office no writ ot covenant tor the i>artofii.i«
levying any final concord, no writ of
entry for the suffering of any common recoveiy
of lands holden in chief, no docket for license to
alien, nor warrant for pardon of alienation made,
could be purchased and gotten without an oath
322
THE OFFICE OF ALIENATIONS.
called an afl.davit, therein first taken ^„ ^^^
either before some justices of assize, °^'''-
or master of the chancery, for the true discovery
of the yearly value of the lands comprised in
every of the same; in which doing, if a man
shall consider on the one side the care and seve-
rity of the law, that would not be satisfied without
an oath; and, on the other side, the assurance of
the truth to be had by so religious an aflirmation
as an oath is, he will easily believe that nothing
could be added unto that order, either for the
ready despatch of the subject, or for the uttermost
advancement of the king's profit. But quid ver-
ba audiam, cum facta videam ? Much peril to the
swearer, and little good to our sovereign hath
ensued thereof. For, on the one side, the jus-
tices of assize were many times abused by their
clerks, that preferred the recognition of final con-
cords taken in their circuit ; and the masters of
the chancery were often overtaken by the fraud
of solicitors and attorneys, that followed their
clients' causes here at Westminster; and, on the
other side, light and lewd persons, especially,
that the exactor of the oath did neither use ex-
hortation, nor examining of them for taking there-
of, were as easily suborned to make an affidavit
for money, as post-horses and hackneys are taken
to hire in Canterbury and Dover way; insomuch
that it was usual for him that dwelt in South-
wark. Short iitch, or Tothill Street, to depose the
yearly rent or valuation of lands lying in the
north, the west, or other remote part of the realm,
where either he never was at all, or whence he
came so young, that little could he tell what the
matter meaned. And thus consuetudinem peccandi
fecit muliitudo peccantium. For the removing of
which corruption, and of some others wheieof I
have long since particularly heard, it was thought
good that the justice of assize should be en-
treated to have a more vigilant eye upon their
clerks' writing; and that one special master of
the chancery should be appointed to reside in this
office, and to take the oaths concerning the mat-
ters that come hither; who might not only reject
such as for just causes were unmeet to be sworn,
but might also instruct and admonish in the
weight of an oath, those others that are fit to pass i
and perform it; and forasmuch as thereby it must
needs fall out very often, that either there was no
man ready and at hand that could, with know-
ledge and good conscience, undertake the oath,
or else, that such honest persons as were present,
and did right well know the yearly value of the
lands, would rather choose and' agree to pay a
reasonable fine without any oath, than to adven-
ture the uttermost, which, by the taking of their
oath, must come to light and discovery. It was
also provided, that the fermour, and the deputies,
should have power to treat, compound, and agree
with such, and so not exact any oath at all of them.
How much this sort of finance hath been in-
creased by this new device, I will reserve, tis 1
have already plotted it, for the last part of this
j discourse: but in the mean while 1 am to note
I first, that the fear of common perjury, growing
by a daily and over-usual acquaintance with an
oath, by little and little raiselh out that must
reverend and religious opinion thereof, whicli
ought to be planted in our hearts, is hereby for a
great part cut off and clean removed : then that
the subject yieldeth little or nothing moie now
than he did before, considering tliat the money,
which was wont to be saved by the former corrupt
swearing, was not saved unto him, but lost to her
majesty and him, and found only in the purse of
the clerk, attorney, solicitor, or other follower of
the suit; and, lastly, that the client, besides the
benefit of retaining a good conscience in the
passage of this his business, hath also this good
assurance, that he is always a gainer, and by no
means can be at any loss, as seeing well enough,
that if the composition be over-hard and lieavy
for him, he may then, at his pleasure, relieve him-
self by recourse to his oath ; which also is no
more than the ancient law and custom of the realm
hath required at his hands. And the selfsame
thing is, moreover, that I may shortly deliver it
by the way, not only a singular comfort to the exe-
cutioners of this office, a pleasant seasoning of all
the sour of their labour and pains, when they shall
consider that they cannot be guilty of the doing
of any oppression or wrong; but it is also a most
necessary instruction and document for them, that
even as her majesty hath made them dispensators
of this her royal favour towards her people, so it |
behoveth them to show themselves pere<rrinaiores, 1
even and equal distributors of the same; and, as
that most honourable lord and reverend sage
counsellor, the late Lord Burleigh,* » This passage
late lord treasurer, said to myself, to dlteofthir"
deal it out with wisdom and good "■■""'e-
dexterity towards all the sorts of her loving sub-
jects.
But now that it may yet more parti- xhepartof
cularly appear what is the sum of this "^^ officer.
new building, and by what joints and sinews the
same is raised and knit together, I must let you
know, that besides the fermour's deputies, which,
at this day, be three in number, and besides the
doctor of whom I spake, there is also a receiver,
who alone handleth the moneys, and three clerks,
that be employed severally, as anon you shall
perceive; and by these persons the whole pro-
ceeding in this charge is thus periormed.
If the recognition or acknowledg- p„„:e«iin;
ment of a final concord upon any writ "p°" "'"='•
of covenant finable, for so we call that which
containeth lands above the yearly value of forty
shillings, and all others w6 term unfinable, be
taken by justice of assize, or by the chief justice
of the Common Pleas, and the yearly value ot
those lands be also declared by affidavit made
THE OFFICE OF ALIENATIONS.
before the same justice; then is the recognition
aiui value, signed with the handwriting of that
justice, carried by the cursitor in ciiancery for
that shire where those lands do lie, and by him
is a writ of covenant thereupon drawn and
engrossed in parchment; which, having the same
value endorsed on the backside thereof, is brought,
together with the same paper that doth warrant
it, into this office; and there first the doctor, con-
ferring together the paper and the writ, endorseth
his name upon that writ, close underneath the
value thereof; then, forasmuch as the valuation
thereof is already made, that writ is delivered to
the receiver, who taketh the sum of money that
is due, after the rate of that yearly value, and
endorseth the payment thereof upon the same writ
accordingly : this done, the same writ is brought
to the second clerk, who enterelh it into a several
book, kept only for final writs of covenant, to-
gether with the yearly value, and the rate of the
money paid, with the name of the party that made
the affidavit, and the justice that took it: and at
the foot of that writ maketh a secret mark of his
said entry : lastly, that writ is delivered to the
deputies, who seeing that all the premises be
orderly performed, do also endorse their own
names upon the same writ, for testimony of the
money received. Thus passeth it from this office
to the cusfos brevium, from him to the queen's
silver, then to the chirographer to be engrossed,
and so to be proclaimed in the court. But if no
affidavit be already made touching the value, then
is the writ of covenant brought first to the depu-
ties, ready drawn and engrossed ; and then is the
value made either by composition had with them
without any oath, or else by oath taken before the
doctor; if by composition, then one of the depu-
ties setteth down the yearly value, so agreed
upon, at the foot of the backside of the writ;
which value the doctor causeth one of the clerks
to write on the top of the backside of the writ,
as the cursitor did in the former, and after that
the doctor endorseth his own name underneath it,
and so passeth it through the hands of the re-
ceiver, of the clerk that maketh the entry, and of
the deputies, as the former writ did. But if the
valuation be made by oath taken before the doctor,
then causeth he the clerk to endorse that value
accordingly, and then also subscribeth he his
name as before ; and so the writ taketh the same
course through the office that the others had.
And this is the order for writs of
covenant that be finable: the like
whereof was at the first observed, in
the passing of writs of entry of lands holden in
chief; saving that they be entered into another
book, especially appointed for them, and for
licenses and pardons of alienations ; and the like
is now severally done with the writs of entry of
lands not so holden: which writs of covenant or
entry not finable, thus it is done : an affidavit is
Pinceed
eotrj-.
made either before some such justice, or before
the said doctor, that the lands, comprised in the
writ, be not worth above forty shillings by the
year, to be taken. And albeit now here can be
no composition, since the queen is to have no fine
at all for unfinable writs, yet doth the doctor en-
dorse his name, and cause the youngest, or third
clerk, both to make entry of the writ into a third
book, purposely kept for those only writs, and
also to endorse it thus, Jim's nulhis. That done,
it receiveth the names of the deputies, endorsed
as before, and so passeth hence to the custos brevium
as the rest. Upon every docket for license of
alienation, or warrant for pardon of alienation, the
party is likewise at liberty either to compound
with the deputies, or to make affidavit touching
the yearly value; which being known once and
set down, the doctor subscribeth his name, the
receiver taketh the money after the due rate and
proportion; the second clerk entereth the docket
or warrant into the book that is proper for them,
and for the writs of entry, with a notice also,
whether it passeth by oath or by composition;
then do the deputies sign it with their hands, and
so it is conveyed to the deputy of Mr. Bacon,
clerk of the licenses, whose charge it is to procure
the hand of the lord chancellor, and consequently
the great seal for every such license or pardon.
There yet remaineth untouched the
order that is for the mean profits ; for upon forftiiure
which also there is an agreement made
here when it is discovered that any alienation
hath been made of lands holden in chief, without
the queen's license; and albeit that in the other
cases, one whole year's profit be commonly
payable upon such a pardon, yet, where the
alienation is made by devise in a last will only,
the third part of these profits is there demandable.
by special provision thereof made in the statute of
34 H. VIII. c. 5, but yet every way the
1 c. r .L 1 J 1- J 34H.8,c.5.
yearly profits of the lands so aliened
without license, and lost even from the time of
the writ of scire facias, or inquisition thereupon
returned into the Exchequer, until the time that
the party shall come hither to sue forth his charter
of pardon for that oflTence.
In which part the subject hath in time gained
double ease of two weighty burdens, that in
former ages did grievously press him ; the one
before the institution of this office, and the other
sithence ; for in ancient time, and of right, as it
is adjudged 46 E. III. Fitzh. forfait 18, the mean
profits were precisely answered after the rate and
proportion per diem, even from the time of the
alienation made. Again, whereas, before the re-
ceipt of them in this office, they were assessed h;y
the affidavit from the time of the inquisition found,
or scire facias returned, now not so much at any
time as the one-half, and many times not the
sixth part of them is exacted. Here, therefore
above the rest, is great necessity to show favour
824
THE OFFICE OF ALIENATIONS.
and merciful dealing ; because it many times hap-
jieneth, that either through the remote dwelling
of the party from the lands, or by the negligence
or evil practice of under-sheriffs and their bailiffs,
the owner hath incurred the forfeiture of eight or
ten years' whole profits of his lands, before he
Cometh to the knowledge of the process that run-
neth against him ; other times an alienation made
without license is discovered when the present
owner of the lands is altogether ignorant that his
lands be holden in chief at all : other times, also,
some man concludeth himself to have such a
tenure by his own suing forth of a special writ of
livery, or by causeless procuring a license, or par-
don, for his alienation, when in truth the lands be
not either holden at all of her majesty, or not
holden in chief, but by a mean tenure in soccage,
or by knight's service at the most. In which
cases, and the like, if the extremity should be
rigorously urged and taken, especially where the
years be many, the party should be driven to his
utter overthrow, to make half a purchase, or more,
of his own proper land and living.
The chief About the dlscovcry of the tenure in
clerk. chief, following of process for such
alienation made, as also about the calling upon
sheriffs for their accounts, and the bringing in of
parties by seisure of their lands, therefore the first
and principal clerk in this ofiice, of whom I had
not before any cause to speak, is chiefly and in a
The discharge Hianner wholly occupied and set on
hoidlThnotin work. Now, if it do at any time hap-
h sued'mo'ire. P^H, as, notwithstanding the best en-
ousiy. deavour, it may and doth happen, that
the process, howsoever colourably awarded, hath
not hit the very mark whereat it was directed, but
haply calleth upon some man who is not of right
to be charged with the tenure in chief, that is ob-
jected against; then is he, upon oath and other
good evidence, to receive his discharge under the
hands of the deputies, but with a quousque, and
with salvu jure dominsE. Usage and deceivable
manner of awarding process cannot be avoided,
especially where a man, having in some one
place both lands holden in chief, and other lands
not so holden, alieneth the laws not holden :
seeing that it cannot appear by record nor
otherwise, without the express declaration and
evidences of the party himself, whether they
be the same lands that be holden, or others.
And, therefore, albeit the party grieved thereby
may have some reason to complain of an untrue
charge, yet may he not well call it an unjust
vpxation ; but ought rather to look upon that ease,
which in this kind of proceeding he hath found,
where, besides his labour, be is not to expend
aoove two-and twenty shillings in the whole
ciiarfje. in comparison of that toil, cost, and care,
which he in the case was wont to sustain by the
writ of certiorari in the F^xchequer ; wherein, be-
sides all his labour, it did cost him fifty shillings
at the least, and sometimes twice so much, beforn
he could find the means to be delivered.
Thus have I run through the whole
order of this practice, in the open time avoid!ng°Jor
of the term ; and that the more parti- '"'' '°'''
cularly and at full, to the end that thereby these
things ensuing might the more fully appear, and
plainly bewray themselves : first, that this present
manner of exercising of this office hath so many
testimonies, interchangeable warrants, and coun-
ter-rolments, whereof each, running through the
hands and resting in the power of so many several
persons, is sufficient to argue and convince all man-
ner of falsehood ; so as, with a general conspiracy
of all those offices together, jt is almost impossible
to contrive any deceit therein : a right ancient and
sound policy, whereupon both the order of the
accounts in the Exchequer, and of the affairs of
her majesty's own household, are so grounded
and built, that the infection of an evil mind in
some one or twain, cannot do any great harm,
unless the rest of the company be also poisoned
by their contagion. And, surely, as Cicero said,
Nullum est tarn desperatuni collegium, in quo non
unus e mullis sit sana mente prseditus. Secondly-
that here is great use both of discretion, learning,
and integrity ; of discretion, I say, for examining
the degrees of favour, which ought to jnequaiii^of
be imparted diversely, and for discern- "'"jus'ifi^W'^-
ing the valuations of lands, not in one place or
shire, but in each county and corner of the realm;
and that not of one sort or quality, but of every
kind, nature, and degree : for a taste whereof, and
to the end that all due quality of rates be not
suddenly charged with infidelity, and condemned
for corruption ; it is note-worthy, that favour is
here sometimes right worthily bestowed, not only
in a general regard of the person, by which every
man ought to have a good pennyworth of his own,
but more especially also and with much distinc-
tion : for a peer of the realm, a coun-
, , - . , /. , 1 1 Th^ person.
sellor of State, a judge or the land, an
officer that laboureth in furtherance of the tenure,
or poor person, are not, as I think, to be measured
by the common yard, but by the pole of special
grace and dispensation. Such as served in the
wars, have been permitted, by many statutes, to
alien their lands of this tenure, without suing out
of any license. All those of the chancery have
claimed and taken the privilege to pass their
writs without fine ; and yet, therefore, do still
look to be easily fined; yea, the favourites in
\ court, and as many as serve the queen in ordi
I nary, take it unkindly if they have not more than
market measure.
1 Aorain, the consideration of the place „
or county where the lands do He, may
justly cause the rate or valuation to be the more
or less ; for as the writs too commonly report the
land by numbers of acres, and as it is allowable,
for the eschewing of some dangers, that those
THE OFFICE OF ALIENATIONS.
325
numbers do exceed the very content and true
quantity of the lands themselves ; so in some
counties they are not much acquainted with ad-
measurement by acre ; and thereby, for the most
part, the writs of those siiires and counties do
contain twice or thrice so many acres more than
the land hath. In some places the lands do lie
open in common fields, and be not so valuable as
if they were enclosed ; and not only in one and
the same shire, but also within the selfsame lord-
ship, parish, or hamlet, lands have their divers
degrees of value, through the diversity of their
fertility or barrenness : wherein how great odds
and variety tliere is, he shall soonest find, that
will examine it by his own skill in whatsoever
place that he knoweth best.
Moreover, some lands be more chargeable than
others are, respecting either the tenure, as knight's
service, and the tenure in chief, or in regard of
defence against the sea and great rivers ; as for
their lying near to the borders of the realm, or
because of great and continual purveyances that
are made upon them, or such like.
And in some counties, as, namely, westward,
their yearly rents, by which most commonly their
value to her majesty is accounted, are not to this
day improved at all, the landlords making no less
gain by fines and incomes, than there is raised in
other places by enhancement of rents.
The minner of '^^e mauHcr and sorts of the convey-
fh»t issurance. g^^.g ^f ^j^g jjj^jj jtself is likcwisc va-
riable, and therefore deserveth a diverse considera-
tion and value : for in a pardon one whole year's
value, together with the mean rates thereof, is
due to be paid ; which ought therefore to be more
favourably assessed, than where but a third part
of one year's rent, as in a license or writ of entry,
or where only a tenth part, as in a writ of cove-
nant, is to be demanded.
A license also and a pardon are to pass the
charges of the great seal, to the which the bar-
gain and sale, the fine and recovery are not sub-
ject. Sometimes, upon one only alienation and
change, the purchaser is to pass both license,
fine, and recovery, and is for this multiplicity of
payments more to be favoured, than he which
bringeth but one single pay for all his assurance.
Moreover, it is very often seen that the same
land suffereth sundry transmutations of owners
within one term, or other small compass of time ;
by which return much profit cometh to her ma-
jesty, though the party feel of some favour in
that doing.
Thefnd of con- Neither is it of small moment in this
ve)»nc«. pgj^^ tQ behold to what end the convey-
ances of land be delivered ; seeing that some-
times it is only to establish the lands in the hands
of the owner and his posterity, without any
alienation and change of possession to be made:
sometimes a fine is levied only to make good a
lease for years, or to pass an estate for life, upon
which no yearly rent is reserved ; or to grant a
reversion, or remainder, expectant upon a Jease,
or estate, that yieldeth no rent Sometimes the
land is given in mortgage only, with full inten-
tion to be redeemed within one year, six months,
or a lesser time. Many assurances do also pass
to godly and charitable uses alone; and it hap-
peneth not seldom, that, to avoid the yearly oatli,
for averment of the continuance of some estate
for life, which is eigne, and not subject to for-
feiture, for the alienation that cometh after it, the
party will offer to sue a pardon uncompelled be-
fore the time; in all which some mitigation of the
uttermost value may well and worthily be oflTered,
the rather for that the statute, I E. III.
c. 12, willeth, that in this service gene- ' ''"
rally a reasonable fine shall be taken.
Lastly, error, misclaim, and forget- j.^^^ ,„j ^^^
fulness do now and then become suit- •**""*■
ors for some remission of extreme rigour : for I
have sundry times observed, that an assurance,
being passed through for a competent fine, hath
come back again by reason of some oversight,
and the party hath voluntarily repassed it within
a while after. Sometimes the attorney, or follower
of the cause, unskilfully thrusteth into the writ,
both the uttermost quantity, or more, of the land,
and the full rent also that is given for it; or else
setteth down an entierty, where but a moiety, a
third or fourth part only was to be passed ; or
causeth a bargain and sale to be enrolled, when
nothing passed thereby, because a fine had trans-
ferred the land before; or else enroUeth it within
the six months ; whereas, before the end of those
months, the land was brought home to the first
owner, by repayment of the money for which it
was engaged. In which and many other like
cases, the client will rather choose to give a
moderate fine for the alienation so recharged,
than to undertake a costly plea in the Exchequer,
for reformation of that which was done amiss.
I take it for a venial fault also to vouchsafe a
pardon, after the rate and proportion of a license,
to him that without fraud or evil mind hath
slipped a term or two months, by forgetting to
purchase his license.
Much more could I say concerning this unbla-
mable inequality of fines and rates ; but as I meant
only to give an essay thereof, so, not doubting but
that this may stand, both for the satisfaction of
such as be indiflferent, and for the discharge of us
that be put in trust with the service, wherein no
doubt a good discretion and dexterity ought to be
used, I resort to the place where I left, affirming
that there is in this employment of ours great use
of good learning also, as well to distinguish the
manifold sorts of tenures and estates ; to make
construction of grants, conveyances, and wills,
and to sound the validity of inquisitions, liveries,
licenses, and pardons ; as also to decipher tho
manifold slights and subtleties that are daily
3 E
326
THE OFFICE OF ALIENATIONS.
cfiered to defraud her majesty in this her most an-
cient and due prerogative, and finally to handle
many other matters, which this purpose will not
permit me to recount at large.
Lastly, here is need, as I said, of integrity
throughout the whole labour and practice, as with-
out the which both the former learning and discre-
tion are no better than armata neguttia, and no-
tliing else but detestable craft and double villainy.
And now, as you have seen that these clerks
want not their full task of labour during the time
of the open term, so is there for them whereupon
to be occupied in the vacation also.
For whereas alienations of lands, holden by the
tenure of prerogative, be continually made, and
that by many and divers ways, whereof all are
not, at the first, to he found of record ; and yet for
the most part do come to be recorded in the end :
the clerks of this ofiice do, in the time of the vaca-
tion, repair to the rolls and records, as well of the
Chancery and King's Bench, as of the Common
Pleas and Exchequer, whence they extract notes
not only of inquisitions, common recoveries, and
indentures of bargains and sales, that cannot but
be of record, but also of such feoffments, ex-
changes, gifts by will, and indentures of cove-
nants to raise uses of lands holden in chief, as are
first made in the country without matter of record,
and come at the length to be found by office or
inquisition, that is of record ; all which are digest-
ed into apt books, and are then sent to the remem-
brancer of the lord treasurer in the Exchequer, to
the end that he may make and send out processes
upon them, as he doth upon the extracts of the
final concords of such lands, which the clerk of
the fines doth convey unto him.
Thus it is plain, that this new order by many
degrees excelleth the former usage ; as also for the
present advancement of her majesty's commodity,
and fpr the future profit which must ensue by such
discovery of tenures as were concealed before, by
awakening of such as had taken a long sleep, and
by reviving a great many that were more than
half dead.
The fees or allowances, that are termly given
to these deputies, receiver, and clerks, for recom-
pense of these their pains, I do purposely preter-
mit ; because they be not certain, but arbitrary, at
the good pleasure of those honourable persons that
have the dispensation of the same: howbeit, hi-
therto each deputy and the receiver hath received
twenty pounds for his travel in each term, only
the doctor hath not allowance of any sum in gross,
but is altogether paid in petty fees, by the party
or suitor; and the clerks are partly rewarded by
that mean also, for their entries, discharges, and
some other writings, besides that termly fee which
Ihev are allowed.
But if the deputies take one penny
besides their known allowance, they
buy It at the dearest price that may be; I mean
the sliipwreck of conscience, and with the irreco-
verable loss of their honesty and credit; and.
therefore, since it appeareth which way each of
these hath his reward, let us also examine that
increase of benefit and gain, which is brought to
her majesty by the invention of this office.
At tlie end of Hilary term, 1589, being the !..st
open term of the lease of these profits granted t<^ the
late Earl of Leicester, which also was to expire at
the feast of the Annunciation of the blessed Virgin
Mary, 1 590, then shortly to ensue ; the officers above
remembered thought it, for good causes, their du-
ties to exhibit to the said right honourable the
lord treasurer a special declaration of the yearly
profits of these finances, paid into the hanaper
during every of the six years before the beginning
of the demise thereof made to that earl, conferred
with the profits thereof that had been yearly taken
during the last six years before the determination
of the lease. By which it plainly appeared, that
in all those first six years, next before the demise,
there had been raised only 12,798/. 15s. 7d. ob. ;
and in these last six years of the demise the full
sumof32,lG0/.4s. lOrf.qu. ; and so in all 19,362/.
2s. 2d. ob. qu. more in these last, than in those
former six years. But because it may be said,
that all this increase redounded to the gain of the
fermor only, I must add, that during all the time
of the demise, he answered 300/. rent, of yearly
increase, above all that profit of 2,133/. 2s. Id. qu.,
which had been yearly and casually made in the
sixteen years one with another next before : the
which, in the time of fourteen years, for so long
these profits have been demised by three several
leases, did bring 4,200/. to her majesty's coffers.
I say yearly ; which may seem strange, that a
casual and thereby uncertain profit should yearly
be all one ; but indeed such was the wondrous
handling thereof, that the profit was yearly neither
more nor less to her majesty, howsoever it might
casually be more or less to him that did receive
it. For the writs of covenant answered year by
year 1,152/. IGs. 8c/., the licenses and pardons
934/. 3s. lid. qu., and the mean rates 40/. 2s. ; in
all 2,133/. 2s. 7d., qu., without increase or dimi-
nution.
Moreover, whereas her majesty did, after the
death of the earl, buy of the countess, being his
executrix, the remnant of the last term of three
years in those profits, whereof there were only
then six terms, that is, about one year and a half,
to come, paying for it the sum of 3,000/. her
majesty did clearly gain by that bargain the sum
of 1,173/. 15s. 8d. ob. above the said 3,000/. above
the rent of 3,649/. 13s. lOd. ob.qu. proportionably
due for that time, and above all fees and other
reprises. Neither hath the benefit of this increase
to her majesty been contained within the bounds
of this small office, but hath swelled over the
banks thereof, and displayed itself apparently, as
well in the hanaper, by the fees of the great seal.
THE OFFICE OF ALIENATIONS.
827
which yielding 20s. id. towards her majesty for
every license and pardon, was estimated to advan-
tage her highness during tliose fourteen years, the
sum of 3,721/. Gs. ob. qu. more than without that
demise slie was like to have found. As also in
the court of wards and liveries, and in the Exche-
quer itself: where, by reason of the tenures in
chief revived through the only labours of these
officers, both the sums for respect of homage be
increased, and the profits of wardships, primer
seisins, ouster h; maine, and liveries, cannot but
be much advanced. And so her majesty's self
hath, in this particular, gained the full sum of
8,73G/. 5s. 5(/. ob. qu., not comprising those pro-
fits in the Exchequer and court of wards, the very
certainty wliereof lieth not in the knowledge of
these officers, nor accounting any part of that
great benefit which the earl and his executrix
have made by the demises: which, one year with
another, during all the thirteen years and a half, I
suppose to have been 2,263/. or thereabouts ; and
80 in all about 27,158/. above all his costs and
expenses. The which, albeit I do here report
only for the justification of the service in this
place; yet who cannot bat see withal, how much
the royal revenues might be advanced, if but the
like good endeavours were showed for her majesty
in the rest of her finances, as have been found in
this office for the commodity of this one subject]
The views of all which matter being presented
to the most wise and princely consideration of her
majesty, she was pleased to demise these profits
and fines for other five years, to begin at the feast
of the Annunciation, 1590, in the thirty-second
year of her reign, for the yearly rent formerly
reserved upon the leases of the earl ; within the
compass of which five years, expired at the An-
nunciation, 1595, there was advanced to her ma-
jesty's benefit, by this service, the whole sum of
13,013/. lis. Id. qu. beyond the ancient yearly
revenues, which, before any lease, were usually
made of these finances. To which, if there be
added 5,700/. for the gain given to her majesty by
the yearly receipt of 300/. in rent, from the first
demise to the earl, until the time of his death,
together with the sum of 1,173/. 15s. 8d. ob.,
clearly won in those six terms bought of the
countess; then the whole commodity, from the
first institution of this office, till the end of these
last five years expired at the Annunciation, 1595,
shall appear to be 19,887/. 9s. 9d. ob. qu. To the
which sum also if 28,550/. 15s. Gd. ob. qu., which
the earl and the countess levied hereby, be like-
wise adjoined, then the whole profit taken in these
nineteen years, that is, from the first lease, to the
end of the last, for her majesty, the earl, and the
countess, will amount unto 48,438/. 5s. id. This
labour hitherto thus luckily succeeding, the depu-
ties in this office finding by daily proof, that it
was wearisome to the subject to travel to divers
places, and through sundry hands, for the pursu-
ing of common recoveries, either not holden of her
majesty at all, or but partly holden in chief; and
not doubting to improve her majesty's revenue
tlierein, and that without loss to any, either pri-
vate person or public officer, if the same might be
managed by them jointly with the rest whereof
they had the charge ; tiiey found, by search in the
hanaper, that the fruits of those writs of entry had
not, one year with another, in the ten years next
before, exceeded 400/. by the year. Whereupon
they took hold of the occasion then present, for
the renewing of the lease of the former profits ;
and moved the lord treasurer, and Sir John For-
tescue, under treasurer and chancellor of the Ex-
chequer, to join the same in one and the same
demise, and to yield unto lier majesty 500/. by
year therefor; which is 100/. yearly of increase.
The which desire being by them recommended to
her majesty, it liked her forthwith to include the
same, and all the former demised profits, within
one entire lease, for seven years, to begin at the
said feast of the Annunciation, 1597, under the
yearly rent of 2,933/. 2s. Id. qu. Since which
time hitherto, I mean to the end of Michaelmas
term, 1598, not only the proportion of the said
increased 100/., but almost of one other 100/. also,
hath been answered to her majesty's coffers, for
those recoveries so drawn into the demise now
continuing.
Thus I have opened both the first plotting, the
especial practice, and the consequent profit arising
by these officers ; and now if I should be de-
manded, whether this increase of profit were
likely to stand without fall, or to be yet amended
or made more 1 I would answer, that if some few
things were provided, and some others prevented,
it is probable enough in mine own opinion, thai
the profit should rather receive accession than
decay.
The things that I wish to be provided are these :
first, that by the diligence of these officers, assisted
with such other as can bring good help thereunto,
a general and careful collection be made of all the
tenures in chief ; and that the same be digested
by way of alphabet into apt volumes, for every
part, or shire, of the realm. Then that every
office, or inquisition, that findeth any tenure in
chief, shall express the true quantities of the lands
so holden, even as in ancient time it was wont to
be done byway of admeasurement, after the man-
ner of a perfect extent or survey ; whereby all the
parts of the tenancy in chief may be wholly
brought to light, howsoever in process of time it
hath been, or shall be torn and dismembered. For
prevention, I wish likewise, first, that some good
means were devised for the restraint of making
these inordinate and covinous leases of lands,
\ holden in chief, for hundreds or thousands of
! years, now grown so bold, that they dare show
, themselves in fines, levied upon the open stage of
1 the Common Pleas ; by which one man taketh
328
THE OFFICE OF ALIENATIONS.
the full profit, and another beareth the empty name
of tenancy, to the infinite deceit of her majesty in
this part of her prerogative. Then, that no alien-
ation of lands holden in chief should be available,
touching the freehold or inherit-ance thereof, but
only where it were made by matter of record, to
be found in some of her majesty's treasuries; and,
lastly, that a continual and watchful eye be had,
as well upon these new founden traverses of te-
nure, which are not now tried per patriam, as the
old manner was ; as also upon all such pleas
whereunto the confession of her majesty's said
attorney-general is expected : so as the tenure of |
the prerogative be not prejudiced, either by the |
fraud of counsellors at the law, many of which do '
bend their wits to the overthrow thereof; or by
the greediness of clerks and attorneys, that, to
serve their own gain, do both impair the tenure,
and therewithal grow more heavy to the client, in
so costly pleading for discharge, than the very
confession of the matter itself would prove unto
him. I may yet hereunto add another thing, very
meet not only to be prevented with all speed, but
also to be punished with great severity : I mean
that collusion set on foot lately, between some of
her majesty's tenants in chief, and certain others
that have had to do in her highness's grants of
concealed lands : where, under a feigned conceal-
ment of the land itself, nothing else is sought but
only to make a change of the tenure, which is re-
served upon the grant of those concealments, into
that tenure in chief: in which practice there is no
less abuse of her majesty's great bounty, than loss
and hindrance of her royal right. These things
thus settled, the tenure in chief should be kept
alive and nourished ; the which, as it is the very
root that doth maintain this silver stem, that by
many rich and fruitful branches spreadeth itself
into the Chancery, Exchequer, and court of wards ;
so, if it be suffered to starve, by want of ablaquea-
tion, and other good husbandry, not only this
yearly fruit will much decrease from time to time,
but also the whole body and boughs of that precious
tree itself will fall into danger of decay and dying.
And now, to conclude therewith, I cannot see
how it may justly be misliked, that her majesty
should, in a reasonable and moderate manner,
demand and take this sort of finance ; which is not
newly out and imposed, but is given and grown
up with the first law itself, and which is evermore
accompanied with some special benefit to the giver
of the same: seeing that lightly no alienation is
made, but either upon recompense in money, or
land, or for marriage, or other good and profitable
consideration that doth move it: yea, rather all
good subjects and citizens ought not only to yield
that gladly of themselves, but also to further it
with other men; as knowing that the better this
and such like ancient and settled revenues shall be
answered and paid, the less need her majesty shall
have to ask subsidies, fifteens, loans, and what-
soever extraordinary helps, that otherwise must
of necessity be levied upon them. And for proof
that it shall be more profitable to her majesty, to
have every of the same to be managed by men of
fidelity, that shall be waged by her own pay, than
either to be letten out to the fermours benefits, or
to be left at large to the booty and spoil of rave-
nous ministers, that have not their rewaid ; let
the experiment and success be in this owe plFice,
and persuade for all the rest.
Laus Deo,
THE GREAT INSTAURATION
OF LORD BACON.
PART 11.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
EDITOR'S PREFACE.
The following is a Translation of the "Instauratio Magna," excepting the first book, the
Treatise " De Augmentis Scientiarum."
BOOK II. NOVUM ORGANUM.
The first edition of this work was published in folio, in 1620, when Lord Bacon was chancellor.
Editions in 12mo. were published in Holland in 1645, 1650, and 1660. An edition was published
in 1779 ; " Wirceburgi, apud Jo. Jac. Stahel :" and an edition was published at Oxford in 1813. No
assistance to this, or, as I am aware, to any part of Lord Bacon's works, has been rendered by the
University of Cambridge.
Parts of the Novum Organum have, at different periods, been translated.
In Watts's translation, in 1610, of the Treatise De Augmentis, there is a translation of the Intro-
ductory Tract prefixed to the Novum Organum.
In the third edition of the Resuscitatio, published in 1671, there are three translated tracts from
the Novum Organum, viz., 1. The Natural and Experimental History of the Form of Hot Things.
2. Of the several kinds of Motion or of the Active Virtue. 3. A Translation of the Parasceve,
which is the beginning of the third part of the Instauration, but is annexed to the Novum Organum
in the first edition. This translation of the Parasceve is by a well wisher to his lordship's writings.
In the tenth edition of the Sylva Sylvarum, there is an abridged translation of the Novum Orga-
num. The following is a copy of the title page : The Novum Organum of Sir Francis Bacon, Baron
of Ferulam, Viscount St. Albans Epitomized.- for a clearer understanding of his Natural History.
Translated and taken out of the Latine by M. D. B. D. London: Printed for Thomas Lee, at the
Turk's-head in Fleet Street, 1676. As this tenth edition of the Sylva was published 1671, and Dr.
Rawley died 1667, it must not, from any document now known, be ascribed to him. It is not noticed
in the Baconiana published in 1679.
In 1733, Peter Shaw, M. D., published a translation of the Novum Organum.
Dr. Shaw, who was a great admirer of Lord Bacon, seems to have laboured under a diseased love
of arrangement, by which he was induced to deviate from the order of the publications by Lord
Bacon, and to adopt his own method. This may be seen in almost every part of his edition, but
particularly in his edition of the Essays, and of the Novum Organum, which is divided and subdi-
vided into sections, with a perplexing alteration, without an explanation of the numbers of the Apho-
risms ; this will appear at the conclusion of his first section, where he passes from section thirty-seven
to section one.
His own account of his translation is as follows: — "The design of these volumes is to give a
methodical English edition of his philosophical works, fitted for a commodious and ready perusal;
somewhat in the same manner as the philosophical works of Mr. Boyle were, a few years since,
fitted, in three quarto volumes.
" All the author's pieces, that were originally written in Latin, or by himself translated into
Latin, are here new done from those originals ; with care all along to collate his own English with
the Latin, where the piecets were extant in both languages.
Vol. III.— 42 2 k 2 339
330 , EDITOR'S PREFACE.
"The method observed in thus rendering them into English, is not that of a direct translation,
(which might have left them more obscure than they are; and no way suited this design;) but a
kind of open version, which endeavours to express, in modern English, the sense of the author,
clear, full, and strong; though without deviating from him, and, if possible, without losing of his
spirit, force, or energy. And though this attempt may seem vain, or bold, it was doubtless better to
have had the view, than willingly to have aimed at second prizes.
"The liberty sometimes taken, not of abridging, (for just and perfect writings are incapable of
abridgment,) but of dropping, or leaving out, some parts of the author's writings, may require
greater excuse. But this was done in order to shorten the works, whose length has proved one
discouragement to their being read. And regard has been had to omit none of the philosophical
matter; but only certain personal addresses, compliments, exordiums, and the like; for, as the
reasons and ends, for which these were originally made, subsist no longer, it was thought super-
fluous to continue such particularities, in a work of this general nature."
In the year 1810 the Novum Organum was translated into Italian. The following is a copy of
the title-page : Nuovo Organo Delle Scienze di Francesco Baconc, Di Verulamio, Traduzioue in
Italiano del can. Antonio Pellizzari, Edizione seconda arricchita di un Indict e di Annotazioni.
Bassano, Tipografia Rcmondiniana, 1810.
For the translation of the Novum Organum contained in this volume, I am indebted to my friend
William Wood : excepting the translation of the Catalogue of Particular Histories, for which I ara
indebted to my friend and pupil, William G. Glen.
BOOK III. NATURAL AND EXPERIMENTAL HISTORY.
THE HISTORY OF THE WINDS.
The translation was published in 1671, in the third edition of the Resuscitatio. It is " translated
into English by R. G., gentleman." Of this tract Archbishop Tennison, says, in his Baconiana:
" The second section is the History of Winds, written in Latin by the author, and by R. G., gen-
tleman, turned into English. It was dedicated to King Charles, then Prince, as the first-fruits of
his lordship's Natural History ; and as a grain of mustard-seed, which was, by degrees, to grow into a
tree of experimental science. This was the birth of the first of those six months, in which he determin-
ed (God assisting him) to write six several histories of natural things. To wit, of Dense and Rare
Bodies ; of Heavy and Light Bodies ; of Sympathy and Antipathy ; of Salt, Sulphur, and Mercury ;
of Life and Death; and (which he first perfected) that of Winds, which he calls the Wings, by
which men fly on the sea, and the besoms of the air and earth. And he rightly observeth, concern-
ing those postnati, (for, as he saith, they are not a part of the six days' work or primary creatures,)
that the generation of them has not been well understood, because men have been ignorant of the
nature and power of the air, on which the winds attend, as iEolus on Juno.
" The Pjnglish translation of this book of Winds is printed in the second part of the Resuscitatio, as
it is called, though improperly enough; for it is rather a collection of books already printed, than a
resuscitation of any considerable ones, which before slept in private manuscript."
The translations of the Histories of Density and Rarity; of Heavy and Light; of Sympathy and
Antipathy ; of Sulphur, Mercury, and Salt, are from the third edition of the Resuscitatio, published
in 1671 ; which contains also a translation of the Entrance to the History of Life and Death.
The translation of the History of Life and Death is taken from the seventh edition of the Sylva
Sylvarum, published in 1658. Of this translation, Archbishop Tennison thus speaks in his Baco-
niana : " The sixth section is the History of Life and Death, written by his lordship in Latin, and
first turned into English by an injudicious translator, and rendered much better a second time, by an
abler pen, made abler still by the advice and assistance of Dr. Rawley.
" This work, though ranked last amongst the six monthly designations, yet was set forth in the
second place. His lordship (as he saith) inverting the order, in respect of the prime use of this
argument, in which the least loss of time was by him esteemed very precious. The subject of this
book, (which Sir Henry Wotton calleth none of the least of his lordship's works,) and the argument
of which some had before undertaken, but to much less purpose, is the first of those which he put
in his Catalogue of the Magnalia Naturae. And, doubtless, his lordship undertook both a great and
a most desirable work, of making art short, and life easy and long. 'And it was his lordship's
wish that the nobler sort of physicians might not employ their times wholly in the sordidness of
cures, neither be honoured for necessity only ; but become coadjutors and instruments of the Divine
omnipotence and clemence, in prolonging and renewing the life of man ; and in helping Christians,
who pant after the land of promise, so to journey through this world's wilderness, as to have theit
siioes and garments (these of their frail bodies) little worn and impaired.' "
editor's preface. 331
book'iv. of the scaling ladder of the intellect.
For this translation I am indebted to my dear friend, the Reverend Archdeacon Wrangham, with
whom, after an uninterrupted friendship of more than forty years, I am happy to be associated in
this work.
Archbishop Tennison thus speaks of this fourth book : "The fourth part of the Inslauratioii de-
signed, was Scala Intellectus.
"To this there is some sort of entrance in his iordship'a distribution of the Novum Oiganum,
and in a page or two under that title of Scala, published by Gruter. But the work itself passed
not beyond the model of it in the head of the noble author.
" That which he intended was, a particular explication and application of the second part of the
Instauration, (which giveth general rules for the interpretation of nature,) by gradual instances and
examples.
" He thought that his rules, without some more sensible explication, were like discourses in geo-
metry or mechanics, without figures and types of engines. He therefore designed to select certain
subjects in nature or art; and, as it were, to draw to the sense a certain scheme of the beginning
and progress of philosophical disquisition in them ; showing, by degrees, where our consideration
takes root, and how it spreadeth and advanceth. And some such thing is done by those who, from
the Cicatricula, or from the Punctum Saliens, observe and register all the phenomena of the animal
unto its death, and after it, also, in the medical, or culinary, or other use of its body ; together with
all the train of the thoughts occasioned by those phenomena, or by others in compare with them.
" And because he intended to exhibit such observations, as they gradually arise, therefore, he
gave to that designed work the title of the Scale, or Ladder of the Understanding. He also ex-
pressed the same conceit by another metaphor, advising students to imitate men who, by going
by degrees, from several eminences of some very high mountain, do at length arrive at the top, or
pike of it."
FIFTH book, or ANTICIPATIONS OF THE SECOND PHILOSOPHY.
For this translation I am also indebted to my friend. Archdeacon Wrangham. Of this tract
Archbishop Tennison thus speaks : " The fifth part of the Instauration designed, was what he
called Prodromi sive Anticipationes Philosophiae Secundie. To this we find a very brief entrance
in the Organum, and the Scripta, published by Gruter. And, though his lordship is not known to
have composed any part of this work by itself, yet something of it is to be collected from tho
axioms and greater observations interspersed in his Natural Histories, which are not pure but mixed
writings. The anticipations he intended to pay down as use, till he might furnish the world wiin
the principal."
FRANCIS OF VERULAM
THOUGHT THUS,
AND StJCH IS THE METHOD HE WITHIN HIMSELF PURSUED, WHICH HE THOUGHT IT CONCERNE»
BOTH THE LIVING AND POSTERITY TO BECOME ACCiUAINTED WITH.
Seeing he was satisfied that the human under-
standing creates itself labour, and makes not a
judicious and convenient use of such real helps
as are within man's power, whence arise both a
manifold ignorance of things, and innumerable
disadvantages, the consequence of such ignorance ;
he thought that we ought to endeavour, with all
our might, either (if it were possible) completely
to restore, or, at all events, to bring to a better
issue that free intercourse of the mind with things,
nothing similar to which is to be met with on
earth, at least as regards earthly objects. But
that errors which have gained firm ground, and
will forever continue to gain ground, would, if
the mind were left to itself, successively correct
each other, either from the proper powers of the
understanding, or from the helps and support of
logic, he entertained not the slightest hope. Be-
cause the primary notions of things, which the
mind ignorantly and negligently imbibes, stores
up, and accumulates, (and from which every thing
else is derived,) are faulty and confused, and care-
lessly abstracted from the things themselves ; and
i.n the secondary and following notions, there is
an equal wantonness and inconsistency. Hence
it happens that the whole system of human rea-
soning, as far as we apply it to the investigation
of nature, is not skilfully consolidated and built
up, but resembles a magnificent pile that has no
foundation. For while men admire and celebrate
the false energies of the mind, they pass by, and
lose sight of the real ; such as may exist if the
mind adopt proper helps, and act modestly
towards things instead of weakly insulting them.
But one course was left, to begin the matter anew
with better preparation, and to effect a restoration
of the-sciences, arts, and the whole of human learn-
ing, established on their proper foundation. And,
although, at the first attempt, this may appear to
be infinite, and above the strength of a mere mor-
tal, yet will it, in the execution, be found to be
more sound and judicious than the course which
has hitherto been pursued. For this method
admits at least of some termination, whilst, in the
present mode of treating the sciences, there is a
sort of whirl, and perpetual hurry round a circle.
Nor has he forgotten to observe that he stands
alone in this experiment, and that it is too bold
and astonishing to obtain credit. Nevertheless,
he thought it not right to desert either the cause
or himself, by not exploring and entering upon
the only way, which is pervious to the human
mind. For it is better to commence a matter
which may admit of some termination, than to be
involved in perpetual exertion and anxiety about
that which is interminable. And, indeed, the
ways of contemplation nearly resemble those cele-
brated ways of action ; the one of which, steep and
rugged atits commencement, terminates in a plain,
the other, at the first view smooth and easy, leads
only to by-roads and precipices. Uncertain,
however, whether these reflections would ever
hereafter suggest themselves to another, and, par-
ticularly, having observed, that he has never yet
met with any person disposed to apply his mind
to similar meditations, he determined to publish
whatsoever he had first time to conclude. Nor i
this the haste of ambition, but of his anxiety, that
if the common lot of mankind should befall him,
some sketch and determination of the matter his
mind had embraced might be extant, as well as
an earnest of his will being honourably bent upon
promoting the advantage of mankind. He assu-
redly looked upon any other ambition as beneath
the matter he had undertaken; for that which is
here treated of is either nothing, or it is so great
that he ought to be satisfied with its own worth,
and seek no other return.
332
TO
OUR MOST SERENE AND MIGHTY PRINCE AND LORD
JAMES,
BY THE GRACE OF GOD, KING OF GREAT BRITAIN, FRANCE, AND IRELAND, DEFENDER OF THE
FAITH, ETC.
Most serene and xMighty King:
Your majesty will, perhaps, accuse me of theft, in that I have stolen from your employment*
time sufficient for this work. I have no reply, for there can be no restitution of time, unless, per-
haps, that which has been withdrawn from your affairs mig+it be set down as devoted to the per-
petuating of your name and to the honour of your age, were what I now offer of any value. It is
at least new, even in its very nature ; but copied from a very ancient pattern, no other than the
world itself, and the nature of things, and of the mind. I myself (ingenuously to confess the
truth) am wont to value this work rather as the offspring of time than of wit. For the only won-
derful circumstance in it is, that the first conception of the matter, and so deep suspicions of preva-
lent notions should ever have entered into any person's mind; the consequences naturally follow.
But, doubtless, there is a chance, (as we call it,) and something as it were accidental in man's
thoughts, no less than in his actions and words. I would have this chance, however, (of which I
am speaking,) to be so understood, that if there be any merit in what I offer, it should be attributed
to the immeasurable mercy and bounty of God, and to the felicity of this your age; to which
felicity I have devoted myself whilst living with the sincerest zeal, and I shall, perhaps, before my
death have rendered the age a light unto posterity, by kindling this new torch amid the darkness of
philosophy. This regeneration and instauration of the sciences is with justice due to the age of a
prince surpassing all others in wisdom and learning. There remains for me to but to make one
request, worthy of your majesty, and very especially relating to my subject, namely, that, resembling
Solomon as you do in most respects, in the gravity of your decisions, the peacefulness of your reign,
the expansion of your heart, and, lastly, in the noble variety of books you have composed, you
would further imitate the same monarch in procuring the compilation and completion of a Natural
and Experimental History, that shall be genuine and rigorous, not that of mere philologues, and
serviceable for raising the superstructure of philosophy, such, in short, as I will in its proper place
describe : that, at length, after so many ages, philosophy and the sciences may no longer be unset-
tled and speculative, but fixed on the solid foundation of a varied and well considered experience.
I for my part have supplied the instrument, the matter to be worked upon must be sought from
things themselves. May the great and good God long preserve your majesty in safety.
Your majesty's
Most bounden and devoted,
0 Francis Verulam, Chancellor
833
FRANCIS OF VERULAM'S
GREAT INSTAURATION
PREFACE.
DN THE STATE OF LEARNING.— THAT IT IS NEITHER PROSPEROUS NOR GREATLY ADVANCED, AND
THAT AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT WAY FROM ANY KNOWN TO OUR PREDECESSORS MUST BE
OPENED TO THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, AND DIFFERENT HELPS BE OBTAINED, IN ORDER
THAT THE MIND MAY EXERCISE ITS JURISDICTION OVER THE NATURE OF THINGS.
It appears to me that men know not either their acquirements or their powers, and trust too much
to the former, and too little to the latter. Hence it arises that, either estimating the arts they have
become acquainted with at an absurd value, they require nothing more, or forming too low an opinion
of themselves, they waste their powers on trivial objects, without attempting any thing to the pur-
pose. The sciences have thus their own pillars, fixed as it were by fate,* since men are not roused
to penetrate beyond them either by zeal or hope : and inasmuch as an imaginary plenty mainly con-
tributes to a dearth, and from a reliance upon present assistance, that which will really hereafter aid
us is neglected, it becomes useful, nay, clearly necessary, in the very outset of our work, to remove,
without any circumlocution or concealment, all excessive conceit and admiration of our actual state
of knowledge, by this wholesome warning not to exaggerate or boast of its extent or utility. For, if
any one look more attentively into that vast variety of books which the arts and sciences are so proud
of, he will everywhere discover innumerable repetitions of the same thing, varied only by the method
of treating it, but anticipated in invention ; so that although at first sight they appear numerous, they
are found, upon examination, to be but scanty. And with regard to their utility I must speak plainly.
That philosophy of ours which we have chiefly derived from the Greeks, appears to me but the child-
hood of knowledge, and to possess the peculiarity of that age, being prone to idle loquacity, but
weak and unripe for generation; for it is fruitful of controversy and barren of effects. So that tho
fable of Scylla seems to be a lively image of the present state of letters ; for she exhibited the coun-
tenance and expression of a virgin, but barking monsters surrounded and fastened themselves to hei
womb. Even thus, the sciences to which we have been accustomed have their flattering and specious
generalities, but when we come to particulars, which, like the organs of generation, should produce
fruit and eflTects, then spring up altercations and barking questions, in the which they end, and bring
forth nothing else. Besides, if these sciences were not manifestly a dead letter, it would nevei
happen, as for many ages has been the case in practice, that they should adhere almost immovably
to their original footing, without acquiring a growth worthy of mankind: and this so completely,
that frequently not only an assertion continues to be an assertion, but even a question to be a question,
which, instead of being solved by discussion, becomes fixed and encouraged ; and every system of
instruction successively handed down to us brings upon the stage the characters of master and scholar,
not those of an inventor and one capable of adding, some excellence to his inventions. But we see
the contrary happen in the mechanical arts. For they, as if inhaling some life-inspiring air, daily
increase, and are brought to perfection; they generally in the hands of the inventor appear rude,
cumbrous, and shapeless, but afterwards acquire such additional powers and facility, that soonej
may men's wishes and fancies decline and change, than the arts reach their full height and perfection.
Philosophy and the intellectual sciences on the contrary, like statues, are adored and celebrated, but
are not made to advance: nay, they are frequently most vigorous in the hands of their author, and
thenceforward degenerate. For since men have voluntarily surrendered themselves, and gone over
in crowds to the opinion of their leader, like those silent senators of Rome, f they add nothing to the
extent of learning themselves, but perform the servile duty of illustrating and waiting upon par-
ticular authors. Nor let any one allege that learning, slowly springing up, attained by degrees
its full stature, and from that time took up its abode in the works of a few, as having performed its
predetermined course; and that, as it is impossible to discover any further improvement, it only
♦ AUiidinff to the frontispiece of the original work, which represents a vessel passing beyond the Pillars of Hercules.
} Pedarii Senatores
334
PREPACK. 335
lemams for nr> "j adorn and cnUivate that which has been discovered. It were indeed to be wished
that such were the case; the more correct and true statement, however, is, that this slavery of the
sciences arises merely from tlie impudence of a few, and the indolence of the rest of mankind.
For, no sooner was any particular branch of learninnr (diligently enourrh, perhaps) cultivated and
laboured, than up would sprint some individual confident in bis art, who would acquire authority
and reputation from the compendious nature of bis method, and, as far as appearances went, would
establish the art, whilst in reality he was corrnplin<T the labours of bis ancestors. Yet will this
please succeeding generations, from the ready use they can make of his labour, and their wearisome
impatience of fresh inquiry. But if any one be influenced by an inveterate uniformity of opinion,
as though it were the decision of time — let him learn that he is relying on a most fallacious and
weak argument. For not only are we, in a great measure, unacquainted with the proportion of arts
and sciences that has been discovered and made its way to the public in various ages and regions,
(much less with what has been individually attempted and privately agitated,) neither the births
nor the abortions of time being extant in any register; but also that uniformity itself, and its
duration are not to be considered of any great moment. For, however varied the forms of civil
government may be, there is but one state of learning, and that ever was and ever will be the
democratic. Now with the people at large, the doctrines that most prevail are either disputatious
and violent, or specious and vain, and they either ensnare or allure assent. Hence, without
question, the greatest wits have undergone violence in every age, whilst others of no vulgar
capacity and understanding have still, from consulting their reputation, submitted themselves
to the decision of time and the multitude. Wherefore, if more elevated speculations have per-
chance anywhere burst forth, they have been from time to time blown about by the winds of public
opinion, and extinguished ; so that time, like a river, has brought down all that was light and
inflated, and has sunk what was weighty and solid. Nay, those very leaders who have usurped, as
it were, a dictatorship in learning, and pronounce their opinion of things with so much confidence,
will yet, when they occasionally return to their senses, begin to complain of the subtility of nature,
the remoteness of truth, the obscurity of things, the complication of causes, and the weakness of
human wit. They are not, however, more modest in this than in the forme rinstances, since they
prefer framing an excuse of the common condition of men and thinsfs, to confessing their own
defects. Besides, it is generally their practice, if some particular art fail to accomplish any object,
to conclude that it cannot be accomplished by that art. But yet the art cannot be condemned, for
she herself deliberates and decides the question; so that their only aim is to deliver their ignorance
from ignominy. The following statement exhibits sufficiently well the state of knowledge delivered
down and received by us. It is barren in effects, fruitful in questions, slow and languid in its
improvement, exhibiting in its generality the counterfeit of perfection, but ill filled up in its details,
popular in its choice, but suspected by its very promoters, and therefore bolstered up and counte-
nanced with artifices. Even those who have been determined to try for themselves, to add their
support to learning, and to enlarge its limits, have not dared entirely to desert received opinions, nor
lo seek the springhead of things. But they think they have done a great thing if they intersperse
and contribute something of their own, prudently considering that by their assent they can save
their modesty, and by their contributions their liberty. Whilst consulting, however, the opinions
of others, and good manners, this admired moderation tends to the great injury of learning: for it
is seldom in our power both to admire and surpass our author, but, like water, we rise not higher
than the springhead whence we have descended. Such men, therefore, amend some things, but
cause little advancement, and improve more than they enlarge knowledge. Yet there have not
been wanting some, who, with greater daring, have considered every thing open to them, and,
employing the force of their wit, have opened a passage for themselves and their dogmas by pros-
trating and destroying all before them; but this violence of theirs has not availed much, since they
have not laboured to enlarge philosophy and the arts, both in their subject-matter and efl^ect ; but
only to substitute new dogmas, and to transfer the empire of opinion to themselves, with but small
advantage; for opposite errors proceed mostly from common causes. Even if some few, who
neither dogmatise nor submit to dogmatism, have been so spirited as to request others to join them
in investigation, yet have such, though honest in their zeal, been weak in their efforts. For they
seem to have followed only probable reasoning, and are hurried in a continued whirl of arguments,
till, by an indiscriminate license of inquiry, they have enervated the strictness of investigation.
But not one has there been found of a disposition to dwell sufficiently on things themselves and
experience. For some again, who have committed themselves to the waves of experience, ana
become almost mechanics, yet in their very experience employ an unsteady investigation, and wai
not with it by fixed rules. Nay, some have only proposed to themselves a few paltry tasks, and think
it a great thing if they can work out one single discovery, a plan no less beggarly than unskilful.
For no one examines thoroughly or successfully the nature of any thingr in the thing itself, but after
336 PREFACE.
a laborious variety of experiments, instead of pausing there, they set out upon some further inquiry.
And we must by no means omit observing, that all the industry disj)layed in experiment, has, from
the very first, caught with a too hasty and intemperate zeal at some determined effect; has soucrht
(I say) productive rather than enlightening experiments, and has not imitated the Divine method,
which on the first day created light alone, and assigned it one whole day, producing no material
works thereon, but descending to their creation on the following days. Those who have attributed
the pre-eminence to logic, and have thought that it afforded the safest support to learning, have seen
very correctly and properly that man's understanding, when left to itself, is deservedly to be
suspected. Yet the remedy is even weaker than the disease; nay, it is not itself free from disease.
For the common system of logic, although most properly applied to civil matters, and such arts as
lie in discussion and opinion, is far from reaching the subtility of nature, and, by catching at that
which it cannot grasp, has done more to confirm, and, as it were, fasten errors upon us, than to open
the way to truth.
To sum up, therefore, our observations, neither reliance upon others, nor their own industry, appear
hitherto *o have set forth learning to mankind in her best light, especially as there is little aid in
such demonstrations and experiments as have yet reached us. For the fabric of this universe is
like a labyrinth to the contemplative mind, where doubtful paths, deceitful imitations of things and
their signs, winding and intricate folds and knots of nature everywhere present themselves, and
a way must constantly be made through the forests of experience and particular natures, with the
aid of the uncertain light of the senses, shining and disappearing by fits. But the guides who offer
their services are (as has been said) themselves confused, and increase the number of wanderings
and of wanderers. In so difficult a matter we must despair of man's unassisted judgment, or even
of any casual good fortune : for neither the excellence of wit, however great, nor the die of
experience, however frequently cast, can overcome such disadvantages. We must guide our steps
by a clue, and the whole path, from the very first perceptions of our senses, must be secured by
a determined method. Nor must I be thought to say, that nothing whatever has been done by so
many and so much labour; for I regret not our discoveries, and the ancients have certainly shown
themselves worthy of admiration in all that requires either wit or abstracted meditation. But, as in
former ages, when men at sea used only to steer by their observations of the stars, they were indeed
enabled to coast the shores of the Continent, or some small and inland seas; but before they could
traverse the ocean and discover the regions of the new world, it was necessary that the use of the
compass, a more trusty and certain guide on their voyage, should be first known; even so, the
present discoveries in the arts and sciences are such as might be found out by meditation, observa-
tion, and discussion, as being more open to the senses and lying immediately beneath our common
notions: but before we are allowed to enter the more remote and hidden parts of nature, it is
necessary that a better and more perfect use and application of the human mind and understanding
should be introduced.
We, for our part at least, overcome by the eternal love of truth, have committed ourselves to
uncertain, steep, and desert tracks, and trusting and relying on Divine assistance, have borne up our
mind against the violence of opinions, drawn up as it were in battle array, against our own internal
doubts and scruples, against the mists and clouds of nature, and against fancies flitting on all sides
around us: that we might at length collect some more trustworthy and certain indications for the
living and posterity. And if we have made any way in this matter, no other method than the true
and genuine humiliation of the human soul has opened it unto us. For all who before us have
applied themselves to the discovery of the arts, after casting their eyes a while upon things,
instances, and experience, have straightway invoked, as it were, some spirits of their own to
disclose their oracles, as if invention were nothing but a species of thought. But we, in our
subdued and perpetual intercourse with things, abstract our understanding no farther from them than
is necessary to prevent the confusion of the images of things with their radiation, a confusion
similar to that we experience by our senses : and thus but little is left for the powers and excellence
of wit. And we have in teaching continued to show forth the humility, which we adopt in
discovering. For we do not endeavour to assume or acquire any majestic state for these our dis-
t-overies, by the triumphs of confutation, the citing of antiquity, the usurpation of authority, or even
tlie veil of obscurity, which would easily suggest themselves to one endeavouring to throw light
upon his own name, rather than the minds of others. We have not, I say, practised either force
or fraud on men's judgments, nor intend we so to do; but we conduct them to things themselves
and the real connexion of things, that they may themselves behold what they possess, what they
prove, what they add, and what they contribute to the common stock. If, however, we have in any
matter given too easy credit, or slumbered and been too inadvertent, or have mistaken our road, and
broken off inquiry, yet we exhibit things plainly and openly, so that our errors can be noted and
^separated before they corrupt any further the mass of sciences, and the continuation of our labours
PREFACE. 337
Is Tpndpred easy and unembarrassed. And we think that by so doingr we have established forever
the real and letritiniate union of the empiric and rational faculties, whose sullen and inauspicious
divorces and repudiations have disturbed every thinir in the great family of mankind.
Since, therefore, tiiese matters are beyond our control, we in the beginning of our work pour
forth most humble and ardent prayers to God the Father, God the Word, and God the Spirit, that,
nnndful of the cases of man, and of his pilgrimage through this life, in which we wear out some
few and evil days, they would vouchsafe through our hands to endow the family of mankind with
these new gifts; and we moreover iiumbly pray that human knowledge may not prejudice divine
truth, and that no incredulity and darkness in regard to the divine mysteries may arise in our
niinds upon the disclosing of the ways of sense, and this greater kindling of our natural light; but
rather that, from a pure understanding, cleared of all fancies and vanity, yet no less submitted to,
nay, wholly prostrate before the divine oracles, we may render unto faith the tribute due unto faith.
And, lastly, that being freed from the poison of knowledge, infused into it by the serpent, and with
which the human soul is swoln and puffed up, we may neither be too profoundly nor immoderately
wise, but worship truth in charity.
Having thus oQered up our prayers, and turning our thoughts again towards man, we propound
some salutary admonitions, and some just requests. First, then, we admonish mankind to keep
their senses within the bounds of duty as regards divine objects. For the senses, like the sun,
open the surface of the terrestrial globe, but close and seal up that of the celestial ; next, that, whilst
avoiding this error, they fall not into the contrary, which will surely be the case, if they think the
investigation of nature to be in any part denied as if by interdict. For it was not that pure and
innocent knowledge of nature, by which Adam gave names to things from their properties, that
was the origin or occasion of the fall, but that ambitious and imperious appetite for moral know-
ledge, distinguishing good from evil, with the intent that man might revolt from God and govern
himself, was both the cause and means of temptation. With regard to the sciences that contemplate
nature, the sacred philosopher declares it to be "the glory of God to conceal a thing, but of the
king to search it out,"* just as if the Divine Spirit were wont to be pleased with the innocent and
gentle sport of children, who hide themselves that they may be found ; and had chosen the human
soul as a playmate out of his indulgence and goodness towards man. Lastly, we would in general
admonish all to consider the true ends of knowledge, and not to seek it for the gratifications of their
minds, or for disputation, or that they may despise others, or for emolument, or fame, or
power, or such low objects, but for its intrinsic merit and the purposes of life, and that they
would perfect and regulate it by charity. For from the desire of power the angels fell,
and men from that of knowledge; but there is no excess in charity, and neither angel nor
man was ever endangered by it.
The requests we make are three. Of ourselves we say nothing; but for the matter which we
treat, we desire men not to regard it as an opinion, but as a work, and to hold it for certain that we
are not laying the foundation of any sect or theory, but of that which will profit and dignify man-
kind. In the next place, that they should fairly consult their common advantage, laying aside the
jealousies and prejudices of opinions, and themselves participate in the remaining labours, when they
have been rescued by us from the errors and impediments of the road, and furnished with our de-
fence and assistance. Moreover, that they should be strong in hope, and should not pretend or
imagine that our instauration is an infinite work, surpassing human strength, since it is really an
end and legitimate termination of infinite error, yet that they should still recollect the mortal lot of
man, and not trust that the matter can be altogether perfected within the course of one age, but
deliver it over to succeeding ages, and, finally, that they should not arrogantly search for the sciences
in the narrow cells of human wit, but humbly in the greater world. That, however, which is
empty is commonly vast, whilst solid matter is generally condensed, and lies in a small space.
Lastly, we must require (lest any one should be disposed to injustice towards us in the very point
on which our subject turns) that men would consider how far they imagine they can be permitted
to comment and pass judgment on our work, after considering what it is necessary for us to claim
for ourselves, if we would preserve any consistency, seeing we reject all human methods that are pre-
mature, anticipating, carelessly and too rapidly abstracted from things as regards the investigation of
nature, considering them to be changeable, confused, and badly constructed ; nor is it to be required
that we should be judged by that which we ourselves arraign.
♦ Prov. xxT. S.
Vol. IIL— 43 9 P
THE DISTRIBUTION OF THE WORK.
1. Divisions of the Sciences.
2. Novum Organum ; or, Precepts for the
Interpretation of Nature.
3. Phenomena of the Universe; or, Na-
tural AND Experimental History on
WHICH to found Philosophy.
IT CONSISTS OF SIX PARTS.
4. Scale of the Understanding.
5. Precursors or Anticipations of the Se-
cond Philosophy.
6. Sound Philosophy, or Active Science.
THE ARGUMENTS OF THE SEVERAL
PARTS.
One point of our design is, that every thing
should be set out as openly and clearly as possi-
ble. For this nakedness, as once that of the
body, is the companion of innocence and sim-
plicity. The order and method of the work,
therefore, shall first be explained. We divide it
into six parts. The first part exhibits a summary,
or universal description of such science and learn-
ing as mankind is, up to this time, in possession
of. For we have thought fit to dwell a little even
on received notions, with a view the more easily
to perfect the old, and approach the new; being
nearly equally desirous to improve the former and
to attain the latter. This is of avail also towards
our obtaining credit: according to the text, "The
unlearned receives not the words of knowledge,
unless you first speak of what is within his own
heart."* We will not, therefore, neglect coasting
the shores of the now received arts and sciences,
and importing thither something useful on our
passage.
But we also employ such a division of the
sciences as will not only embrace what is already
discovered and known, but what has hitherto been
omitted and deficient. For there are both culti-
vated and desert tracts in the intellectual as in the
terrestrial globe. It must not, therefore, appear
extraordinary if we sometimes depart from the
common divisions. For additions, whilst they
vary the whole, necessarily vary the parts, and
their subdivisions, but the received divisions are
only adequate to the received summary of the
sciences, such as it now exists.
With regard to what we shall note as omitted,
we shall not content ourselves with offering the I
mere names and concise proofs of what is defi-
cient: for if we refer any things to omissions, of
a high nature, and the meaning of which may be
rather obscure, (so that we may have grounds to
suspect that men will not understand our inten-
tion, or the nature of the matter we have embraced
* Prov xviii. 2. «' A fool hath no delight In understanding
out that his heart may discover itself." Bacon quotes from
Use Vulgate.
in our conception and contemplation,) we will
always take care to subjoin to an instance of the
whole, some precepts for perfecting it, or perhaps
a completion of a part of it by ourselves. For,
we consider it to concern our own character as
well as the advantage of others, that no one may
imagine a mere passing idea of such matters to
have crossed our mind, and that what we desire
and aim at resembles a wish ; whilst in reality it
is in the power of all men, if they be not want-
ing to themselves, and we ourselves are actually
masters of a sure and clear method. For we
have not undertaken to measure out regions in
our mind, like augurs for divination, but like
generals to invade them for conquest. —
And this is the first part of the work.
Having passed over the ancient arts, we will
prepare the human understanding for pressing on
beyond them. The object of the Second Part,
then, is the doctrine touching a better and more
perfect use of reasoning in the investigation of
things, and the true helps of the understanding;
that it may by this means be raised, as far as our
human and mortal nature will admit, and be en-
larged in its powers so as to master the arduous
and obscure secrets of nature. And the art which
we employ (and which we are wont to call the
interpretation of nature) is a kind of logic. For
common logic professes to contrive and prepare
helps and guards for the understanding, and so
far they agree. But ours differs from the com-
mon, chiefly in three respects, namely, in its end,
the order of demonstration, and the beginning of
the inquiry.
For the end of our science is not to discovei
arguments, but arts, nor what is agreeable to cer-
tain principles, but the principles themselves, nor
probable reasons, but designations and indications
of effects. Hence, from a diversity of intention
follows a diversity of consequences. For, in
in the one an opponent is vanquished and con-
strained by argument, in the other, nature by
effects.
And the nature and order of the demonstrntions
agree with this end. For in common logic almost
our whole labour is spent upon the syllogism
333
THE DISTRIBUTION OF THE WORK.
339
The logricians appear scarcely to have thought
Bcriously of induction, passing it over with some
sliirlit notice, and luirrying on to the formulae of
dispute. But we reject the syllooristic demonstra-
tion, as being too confused, and letting nature
escape from our hands. For, although nobody
can doubt that those things which agree with the
middle term agree with each other, (which is a
sortof mathematiciil certainty,) nevertheless, there
is this source of error, namely, that a syllogism
consists of propositions, propositions of words,
and words are but the tokens and signs of things.
If, therefore, the notions of the mind (which are
as it were the soul of words, and the basis of this
whole structure and fabric) are badly and hastily
abstracted from things, and vague, or not suffi-
ciently defined and limited, or, in short, faulty
(as they may be) in many other respects, the
whole falls to the ground. We reject, therefore,
the syllogism, and that not only as regards first
principles, (to which even the logicians do not
apply them,) but also in intermediate propositions,
which the syllogism certainly manages in some
way or other to bring out and produce, but then
they are barren of effects, unfit for practice, and
clearly unsuited to the active branch of the
sciences. Although we would leave therefore to
the syllogism, and such celebrated and applauded
demonstrations, their jurisdiction over popular
and speculative arts, (for here we make no altera-
tion,) yet, in every thing relating to the nature of
things, we make use of induction, both for our
major and minor propositions. For we consider
induction to be that form of demonstration which
assists the senses, closes in upon nature, and
presses on, and, as it were, mixes itself with
action.
Hence also the order of demonstration is natu-
rally reversed. For at present the matter is so
managed, that from the senses and particular
objects they immediately fly to the greatest gene-
ralities, as the axes round which their disputes
may revolve : all the rest is deduced from them
intermediately, by a short way we allow, but an
abrupt one, and impassable to nature, though easy
and well suited to dispute. But, by our method,
axioms are raised up in gradual succession, so that
we only at last arrive at generalities. And that
which is most generalized, is not merely national
but well defined, and really acknowledged by
nature as well known to her, and cleaving to the
very pith of things.
By far our greatest work, however, lies in the
form of induction and the judgment arising from
it. For the form of which the logicians speak,
which proceeds by bare enumeration, is puerile,
and its conclusions precarious, is exposed to
danger from one contrary example, only consi-
ders what is habitual, and leads not to any final
result.
The sciences, on the contrary, require a form
of induction capable of explaining and separating
experiments, and coming to a certain conclusion
by a proper series of rejections and exclusions.
If, however, the common judgment of the logi-
cians has been so laborious, and has exercised
such great wits, how much more must we labour
in this which is drawn not only from the recesses
of the mind, but the very entrails of nature.
Nor is this all, for we let down to a greater
depth, and render more solid the very foundations
of the sciences, and we take up the beginning of
our investigation from a higher part than men
have yet done, by subjecting those matters to
examination which common logic receives upon
the credit of others. For the logicians borrow
the principles of one science from another, in the
next place they worship the first formed notions
of their minds, and, lastly, they rest contented with
the immediate information of the senses, if well
directed. But we have resolved that true logic
ought to enter upon the several provinces of the
sciences with a greater command than is pos-
sessed by their first principles, and to force those
supposed principles to an account of the grounds
upon which they are clearly determined. As far
as relates to the first notions of the understanding,
not any of the materials which the understanding,
when left to itself, has collected, is unsuspected
by us, nor will we confirm them unless they them-
selves be put upon their trial and be judged
accordingly. Again, we have many ways of sift-
ing the information of the senses themselves : for
the senses assuredly deceive, though at the same
time they disclose their errors : the errors, how-
ever, are close at hand, whilst their indication
must be sought at a greater distance.
There are two faults of the senses : they either
desert or deceive us. For in the first place there
are many things which escape the senses, however
well directed and unimpeded, owing either to the
subtilty of the whole body, or the minuteness of
its parts, or the distance of place, or the slowness
or velocity of motion, or the familiarity of the
object, or to other causes. Nor are the apprehen-
sions of the senses very firm, when they grasp the
subject; for the testimony and information of the
senses bears always a relation to man and not to
the universe, and it is altogether a great mistake
to assert that our senses are the measure of
things.
To encounter these difficulties, we have every,
where sought and collected helps for the senses
with laborious and faithful service, in order to
supply defects and correct errors : and that not so
much by means of instruments, as by experi-
ments. For experiments are much more delicate
than the senses themselves, even when aided by
instruments, at least if they are skilfully and
scientifically imagined and applied to the required
point. We attribute but little, therefore, to the
immediate and proper perception of the sense*.
340
THE DISTRIBUTION OF THE WORK-
but reduce the matter to this, that they should
decide on the exptenment, and the experiment on
the subject of it. Wherefore, we consider that
we have shown ourselres most obserrant priests
of the senses, (by which all that exists in nature
must be investigated if we would be ratioinl,)
and not unskilful interpreters of their oracles: for
others seem to observe and worship them in word
alone, but we in deed. These then are the means
which we prepare for kindling and transmitting
the light of nature : which would of themselves
be su£cient, if the human understanding were
plain and like a smoothed surface. But since the
minds of men are so wonderfully prepossessed,
that a clear and polished surface for receiving the
true rays of things is wholly wanting, necessity
urges us to seek a remedy for this also.
The images or idols by which the mind is pre-
occupied are either adventitious or innate. The
adventitious have crept into the minds of men
either from the dogmas and sects of philosophers,
or the perverted rules of demonstration. But the
innate are inherent to the very nature of the un-
derstanding, which appears to be much more
prone to error than the senses. For however men
may be satisfied with themselves, and rush into a
blind admiration and almost adoration of the hu.
man mind, one thing is most certain, namely, that
as an uneven mirror changes the rays proceeding
from objects according to its own figure and posi-
tion, so the mind when affected by things through
the senses does not act in the most trustworthy
manner, but inserts and mixes her own nature
Into that of things, whilst clearing and recollect-
ing her notions.
The first two species of idols are vitk diffitutg
eradicated, the latter can never be so. We can
only point them out, and note and demonstrate
that insidious faculty of the mind, lest new shoots
of error should happen to spring up, from the de-
struction of the old, on account of the mind's
defective structure ; and we should then find our-
selves only exchanging instead of extinguishing
errors; whilst it ought on the other hand to be
eternally resolved and settled, that the understand-
ing cannot decide otherwise than by induction
and by a legitimate form of it. Wherefore the
doctrine of the purifying of the understanding, so
as to fit it for the reception of truth, consists of
three reprehensions ; the reprehension of the
schemes of philosophy, the reprehension of me-
thods of demonstration, and the reprehension of
natural human reason. But when these have
been gone through, and it has at last been clearly
«een. what results are to be expected from the
natuie of things and the nature of the mind, we
consider that we shall have prepared and adorned
a nuptial couch for the mind and the universe;
the divine goodness biing our bridemaid. But
let the prayer of our epithalamium be this; that
from this union may spring assistance to man.
and a race of such discoTcries as will
measure overcome hts wants ai
And this is the tetomdfmri tfikt wm*.
It is our intentioa not only to op^ and piepcin
the way, but also to etOet upon it. The third
part, therefore, of our work embraces the pheao-
mena of the universe ; that is to say, expnience
of every kind, and such a natural history as can
form the foundation of an edifice of philosophy.
For there is no method of deoMMistratkm, or fena
of interpreting nature, so excellent as to be abls
to afford and supply mtatter for knowledge, as well
as to defend and support the mind against error
and failure. But those who resolve not to con-
jecture and divine, but to discover and know, not
to invent buffooneries and fables about worMs,
but to inspect, and, as it were, dissect the natave
of this real world, must derive all firom thii^
themselves. Nor can any substitution or com-
pensation of wit, meditation, at argument, (were
the whole wit of all combined in one,) supply the
place of this labour, investigation, aiMl personal
examination of the world ; our method then most
necessarily be pursued, or the whole forever aban-
doned. But men have so conducted themselves
hitherto, that it is little to be wondered at if nature
do not disclose herself to them.
For in the first place the defective and fallacious
evidence of our senses, a system of observatiMi
slothful and unsteady, as though actii^ fmn
chance, a tradition vain and depending on com-
mon report, a course of practice intent upcm effects,
and servile, blind, dull, vague, and abrupt expe-
riments, and lastly our careless and meagre natural
history, have collected together, for the use of the
understanding, the most defective materials as
regards philosophy and the sciences.
In the next place, a preposterous refinement,
and, as it were, ventilation of argument, is at-
tempted as a late remedy for a matter become
clearly desperate, and neither makes any improve-
ment, nor removes errors. There remains no
hope therefore of greater advancement and pro-
gress, unless by some restoration of the sciences-
But this must commence entirely with natural
historv. For it is useless to clean the mirror if it
have no images to reflect, and it is manifest that
we must prepare proper matter for the understand-
ing as well as steady support- But our history,
like our logic, differs in many respects, from the
received, in its end or office, in its very matter
and compilation, in its nicety, in its selection, and
in its arrangements relatively to what follows.
For, in the first place, we begin with that spe-
cies of natural history which is not so much ca!-
culated to amuse by the variety of its objects, or
to offer immediate results by its experiments, as
to throw a light upon the discovery of causes, and
to present, as it were, its bosom as the first nurse
of philosophy. For, although we regard princi«
pally effects and the active division ai the sciences.
THE DISJTRIBUnON OF THE WORK.
34l
T-^t we wait for the time of harvest, and do not fo
i.»v>. I to rt^ap ui«xys aiui a ^n\ a crv»p : bein^ wif»
tirteotlj aware that well formed axioois draw
whole crowds of offers after them, and do not
iu«mli««( Uw«r effectB paitiall j, but in abandaaoe.
Bitt we vlrallj ooadmaB and banish that aiiraft>
soadble and pwerile desire of imm«diatelT smsub;
soMe |4edf«« as it were of new effects, which,
!iifi« tlM apple of Atalanta, rHard oar course —
$uch tiMB it iIm office of oar natural history.
With legaid to its compilation, we intend not
tM fona m hielcvy of nature at liberty and in her
uwnl eowse, trhea she proceeds wiUingfly and
acts of her own accwd, (as for instance the history
of the heevenlr bodies, meteors, the earth and sea,
ittiaenls, plants, animals,) but much rather a his-
toij of nature constrained and perplexed, as she
is seen when thrust down from her proper rank
and harassed and modelled by the art and contri-
rance of man. We will therefore go throuorh all
the experiments of the mechanical and the opera-
tire part of the liberal arts, and all those of dif-
ferent practical schemes which hare not yet been
put together so as to form a peculiar art : as far
as we have been able to investisrate them and it
will suit our purpose. Besides, (to speak the
iniih,) without parin* any attention to the pride
of man, or to appearances, we consider this
branch of much more assistance and support than
the other: sine© the nature of things betrays
itself more by means of the operations cf art than
when at perfect liberty.
Xor do we present the history of bodies alone,
but hare thougiit it moreover right to exert our
diligence in compiling a separate history of pro-
perties : we mean those which may be called the
cardinal properties of nature, and of which its very
elements are composed, namely, matter with its
tir^t accidents and appetites, such as density,
nuity. heat, cold, solidity, fluidity, weight, levity,
and many others.
But. with regard to the nicety of natural history,
we clearly rtquirw a much more delicate and sim-
ple form of experiments than those which are ob-
vious. For we bring out and extract from obscurity
many things which no one would have thought
of inrestigating, unless he were proceeding by
a sure and steady path to the discovery of causes ;
since they ane in themselves of no great use, and
it is clear that they were not sought for on their
own account, but that they bear the same relation
to things and effects, tliat the letters of the al-
p-abet do to discourse and words, being useless
iivieed in themselves, but the elements of all
iangui^fe.
In the selection of our reports and experiments,
we consider that we have been more cautious for
mankind than any of our pn?decessors. For we
admit nothing bat as an eyewitness, or at least
upon approved and rigorously examined testi-
mony: so that nothing is magnified into the
miraculous, but our reports are pure and unadul-
terated by fables and absurdity. Xay, the com-
monlj received and repeated fidsehoods, which b«
tome wonderful neglect hare held their ground
lor wmuj afes and become inreterate, are by us
disfdaetly pffoscribed and branded, 'hat they may
no loBfer BM^est learning. For, as it has been
! well observed, that the tales, superstitions, and
' trash which nurses instil into children, seriously
corrupt their minds, so are we careful and anxiou»
whilst managing and watching over the infancy,
as it were, of philosophy committed to the charge
of natural history, that it should not from the first
become habituated to any absurdity. In every
new and rather delicate experiment, although to
us it may appear sure and satisfactory, we yet
' publish the method we employed, that, by the
discovery of every attendant circumstance, men
may perceive the possibly latent and inherent
errors, and be roused to proofs of a more certain
and ejract nature, if such there be. Lastly, we
intersperse the whole with advice, doubts, and
cautions, casting out and restraining, as it were,
all phantoms by a sacred ceremony and exorcism.
Finallv. since we have learned how much expe-
rience and history district the powers cf the
human mind.and how difficult it is (especially for
young or prejudiced intellects) to become at the
first acquainted with nature, we frequently add
some observations of our own, by way of showing
the first tendency, as it were, and inclination or
' aspect of history towards philosophy ; thus as-
■ suring mankind that they will not always be de-
tained in the ocean of history, and also preparing
I for the time when we shall come to the work of
the understanding. And by such a natural his-
tory as we are describing, we think that safe and
' convenient access is opened to nature, and solid
' and ready matter furnished to the understanding.
I But af\er furnishing the understanding with the
most surest helps and precautions, and having
; completed, by a rigorous levy, a complete host
of divine works, nothing remains to be done but
to attack Philosophy herself. In a matter so ar-
j duous and doubtful, however, a few reflections
I must necessarily be here inserted, partly for in-
I stnjction and partly for present use.
I The first o( these is, that we should offer some
examples of our method and course of investiga-
tion and discovery, as exhibited in particular sub-
jects ; preferrins the most dignified subjects of
our inquiry, and such as differ the most from each
other, so that in every branch we may have an
example. Nor do we speak of those examples,
which are added to particular precepts and rules
by way of illustration, (for we have furnished then>
abundantly in the second part oT our work.) bu»
we mean actual types and models, calculated to
place, as it were, before our eyes the whole pro-
' cess of the mind, and the continuous frame an<l
. order of discovery in particular subjects, selected
3f8
842
THE DISTRIBUTION OF THE WORK.
for their variety and importance. For we recol-
lected that in mathematics, with the diagram be-
fore our eyes, the demonstration easily and clearly
followed, but without this advantage every thing
appeared intricate and more subtile than was
really the case. We devote, therefore, the fourth
PART of our work to such examples, which is in
fact nothing more than a particular and fully de-
veloped application of the second part.
But the FIFTH PART is only used for a tempo-
'ary purpose, whilst the rest are being perfected,
and IS paid down as interest, until the principal
can be raised. For we rush not so blindly to our
object, as to neglect any thing useful on our way.
We compose this fifth part of the work therefore
of those matters which we have either discovered,
tried, or added ; without, however, employing
our own method and rules for interpretation, but
merely making the same use of our understand-
ing as others are wont to do in their investiga-
tions and discoveries. For, from our constant inter-
course with nature, we both anticipate greater re-
sults from our meditations than the mere strength
of our wit would warrant; and yet such results
as have been mentioned may also serve as inns
upon the road for the mind to repose itself a while
on its way to more certain objects. We protest,
in the mean time, against any great value being
set upon that which has not been discovered or
proved by the true form of interpretation. There
is no reason, however, for any one to be alarmed
at such suspense of judgment in our method of
teaching, which does not assert absolutely that
nothing can be known, but that nothing can be
known without a determined order and method ;
and in the mean time has settled some determined
gradations of certitude, until the mind can repose
in the full developement of causes. Nor were
those schools of philosophers, who professed ab-
solute skepticism, inferior to the others which
took upon themselves to dogmatise. They did
not, however, prepare helps for the senses and
understanding, as we have done, but at once abo-
lished all belief and authority, which is totally
different, nay, almost opposite matter.
Lastly, the sixth part of our work (to which
the rest are subservient and auxiliary) discloses
jind propounds that philosophy which is reared
and formed by the legitimate, pure, and strict
method of investigation previously taught and
prepared. But it is both beyond our power and
expectation to perfect and conclude this last part.
We will, however, furnish no contemptible be-
ginning, (if our hopes deceive us not,) and men's
good fortune will furnish the result; such, per-
iiaps, as men cannot easily comprehend or define
in the present state of things and the mind. Foi
we treat not only of contemplative enjoyment,
but of the common affairs and fortune of man-
kind, and of a complete power of action. For
man, as the minister and interpreter of nature
does, and understands, as much as he has ob-
served of the order, operation, and mind of na-
ture ; and neither knows nor is able to do more.
Neither is it possible for any power to loosen
or burst the chain of causes, nor is nature to
be overcome except by submission. Therefore
those two objects, human knowledge and power,
are really the same; and failure in action chiefly
arises from the ignorance of causes. For every
thing depends upon our fixing the mind's eye
steadily in order to receive their images exactly
as they exist, and may God never permit us to
give out the dream of our fancy as a model of the
world, but rather in his kindness vouchsafe to us
the means of writing a revelation and true vision
of the traces and stamps of the Creator on his
creatures.
May thou, therefore, O Father, who gavest
the light of vision as the first-fruits of crea-
tion, and hast inspired the countenance of
man with the light of the understanding as the
completion of thy works, guard and direct this
work, which, proceeding from thy bounty,
seeks in return thy glory. When thou turnedst
to look upon the works of tliy hands, thcu
sawest that all were very good, and restedst.
But man, when he turned towards the works of
his hands, saw that they were all vanity and
vexation of spirit, and had no rest. Wherefore,
if we labour in thy works, thou wilt make us
partakers of that which thou beholdest and of
thy rest. We humbly pray that our present dis-
position may continue firm, and that thou mayest
be willing to endow thy family of mankind with
new gifts through our hands, and the hands of
those to whom thou wilt accord the same dis-
position.
77te First Part oj the Instauration, which comprehends the Divisions of the Sciences, is wanting.
But they can be partly taken from the Second Book, " On the Progress to be made in Divine and
Human Learning.''^
Next followcth the Second Part of the Instaura/ion, which exhibits the Jrt of interpreting Nature and
of making a right Use of the Understanding ; not, however, imbodied in a regular Treatise, hut stily
tummarily digested in Jphorisms.
THE SECOND PART OF THE WORK WHICH IS CALLED
NOVUM ORGANUM;
OR,
TRUE SUGGESTIONS FOR THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.
PREFACE.
They who have presumed to dogmatize on Nature, as on some well-investigated subject, either
from self-conceit or arrogance, and in the professorial style, have inflicted the greatest injury on
]»hiIosophy and learning. For they have tended to stifle and interrupt inquiry exactly in proportion
as they have prevailed in bringing others to their opinion : and their own activity has not counter-
balanced the mischief they have occasioned by corrupting and destroying that of others. They
•^tj-ain who have entered upon a contrary course, and asserted that nothing whatever can be known,
whether they have fallen into this opinion from their hatred of the ancient sophists, or from the
hesitation of their minds, or from an exuberance of learning, have certainly adduced reasons for it
which are by no means contemptible. They have not, however, derived their opinion from true
sources, and, hurried on by their zeal, and some affectation, have certainly exceeded due moderation.
But the more ancient Greeks (whose writings have perished) held a more prudent mean, between
the arrogance of dogmatism, and the despair of skepticism ; and though too frequently intermingling
complaints and indignation at the difficulty of inquiry, and the obscurity of things, and champing,
as it were, the bit, have still persisted in pressing their point, and pursuing their intercourse with
nature : thinking, as it seems, that the better method was not to dispute upon the very point of the
possibility of any thing being known, but to put it to the test of experience. Yet they themselves,
by only employing the power of the understanding, have not adopted a fixed rule, but have laid
their whole stress upon intense meditation, and a continual exercise and perpetual agitation of
the mind.
Our method, though difficult in its operation, is easily explained. It consists in determining the
degrees of certainty, whilst we, as it were, restore the senses to their former rank, but generally
reject that operation of the mind which follows close upon the senses, and open and establish a new
and certain course for the mind from the first actual perceptions of the senses themselves. This no
doubt was the view taken by those who have assigned so much to logic; showing clearly thereby
that they sought some support for the mind, and suspected its natural and spontaneous mode of
action. But this is now employed too late as a remedy, when all is clearly lost, and after the mind,
by the daily habit and intercourse of life, has become prepossessed with corrupted doctrines, and
filled with the vainest idols. The art of logic therefore being (as we have mentioned] too late a
precaution, and in no way remedying the matter, has tended more to confirm errors, than to disclose
truth. Our only remaining hope and salvation is to begin the whole labour of the mind again ; not
leaving it to itself, but directing it perpetually from the very first, and attaining our end as it were
by mechanical aid. If men, for instance, had attempted mechanical labours with their hands alone,
and without the power and aid of instruments, as they have not hesitated to carry on the labours of
their understanding with the unaided efforts of their mind, they would have been able to move and
overcome but little, though they had exerted their utmost and united powers. And, just to pause
a while on this comparison, and look into it as a mirror; let us ask, if any obelisk of a remarkable
size were perchance required to be moved, for the purpose of gracing a triumph or any similar
pageant, and men were to attempt it with their bare hands, would not any sober spectator avow it to
be an act of the greatest madness 1 And if they should increase the number of woikmen, and
imatjine that they could thus succeed, would he not think so still more 1 But if they chose to make
a selection, and to remove the weak, and only employ the strong and vigorous, thinking by this
means, at any rate, to achieve their object, would he not say that they were more fondly deranged'
Nay, if, not content with this, they were to determine on consulting the athletic art, and were to
give orders for all to appear with their hands, arms, and muscles regularly oiled and prepared, would
34.3
344 PREFACE.
he not exclaim that they were taking pains to rave by method and desiofn? Yet men ars hurried on
with the same sens(/iHSS energy and useless combination in intellectual matters, ro long as they
expect great results either from the number and agreement, or the excellence and acutencss of their
wits; or even strengthen their minds with logic, which may be considered as an athletic prepara-
tion, but yet do not desist (if we rightly consider the matter) from applying tiieir own understandings
merely with all this zeal and effort. Whilst nothing is more clear, than that in every great work
executed by the hand of man without machines or implements, it is impossible for the strength of
individuals to be increased, or for that of the multitude to combine.
Having premised so much, we lay down two points on which we would admonish mankind, lest
they should fail to see or to observe them. The first of these is : that it is our good fortune, (as we
consider it,) for the sake of extinguishing and removing contradiction and irritation of mind, to leave
the honour and reverence due to the ancients untouched and undiminished, so that we can perform
our intended work, and yet enjoy the benefit of our respectful moderation. For if we should profess
to offer something better than the ancients, and yet should pursue the same course as they have done,
we could never, by any artifice, contrive to avoid the imputation of having engaged in a contest or
rivalry as to our respective wits, excellences, or talents ; which, though neither inadmissible or new,
(for why should we not blame and point out any thing that is imperfectly discovered or laid down
by them, of our own right, a right common to all,) yet, however just and allowable, would perhaps
be scarcely an equal match, on account of the disproportion of our strength. But, since our present
plan leads us to open an entirely different course to the understanding, and one unattempted and
unknown to them, the case is altered. There is an end to party zeal, and we only take upon our-
selves the character of a guide, which requires a moderate share of authority and good fortune, rather
than talents and excellence. This first admonition relates to persons, the next to things.
We make no attempt to disturb the system of philosophy that now prevails, or any other which
may or will exist, either more correct or more complete. For we deny not that the received system
of philosophy, and others of a similar nature, encourage discussion, embellish harangues, are em«
ployed and are of service in the duties of the professor, and the affairs of civil life. Nay, we openly
express and declare that the philosophy we offer will not be very useful in such respects. It is not
obvious, nor to be understood in a cursory view, nor does it flatter the mind in its preconceived
notions, nor will it descend to the level of the generality of mankind, unless by its advantages
and effects.
Let there exist then (and may it be of advantage to both) two sources, and two distributions of
learning, and in like manner two tribes, and as it were kindred families of contemplators or philoso-
phers, without any hostility or alienation between them ; but rather allied and united by mutual
assistance. Let there be, in short, one method of cultivating the sciences, and another of discovering
them. And as for those who prefer and more readily receive the former, on account of their haste,
or from motives arising from their ordinary life, or because they are unable from weakness of mind
to comprehend and embrace the other, (which must necessarily be the case with by far the greater
number,) let us wish that they may prosper as they desire in their undertaking, and attain what
they pursue. But if any individual desire and is anxious not merely to adhere to and make use of
present discoveries, but to penetrate still further, and not to overcome his adversaries in disputes,
but nature by labour, not, in short, to give elegant and specious opinions, but to know to a certainty
and demonstration, let him, as a true son of science, (if such be his wish,) join with us; that when
he has left the antechambers of nature trodden by the multitude, an entrance at last may be dis-
covered to her inner apartments. And, in order to be better understood, and to render our meaning
more familiar by assigning determinate names, we have accustomed ourselves to call the one method
the anticipation of the mind, and the other the interpretation of nature.
We have still one request left. We have at least reflected and taken pains in order to render our
propositions not only true, but of easy and familiar access to men's minds, however wonderfully
prepossessed and limited. Yet it is but just that we should obtain this favour from mankind, (espe-
cially in so great a restoration of learning and the sciences,) that whosoever may be desirous of
forming any determination upon an opinion of this our work, either from his own perceptions, or the
crowd of authorities, or the forms of demonstrations, he will not expect to be able to do so in a
cursory manner, and whilst attending to other matters; but in order to have a thorough knowledge
of the subject, will himself by degrees attempt the course which we describe and maintain; will
become accustomed to the subtilty of things which is manifested by experience; and will correct
the depraved and deeply rooted habits of his mind by a seasonable and as it were just hesitation :
and then finally (if he will) use his judgment when he has begun to be master of himself.
SUMxMARY OF THE SECOND PART,
DIGESTED IN APHORISMS.
APHORISMS ON THE INTERPRETATION
OK NATURE AND THE EMPIRE OF MAN.
1. Ma.n, as the minister and interpreter of na-
ture, does and understands as much as his obser-
vations on the order of nature, either with regard
to things or the mind, permit him, and neither
knows nor is capable of more.
2. The unassisted hand, and the understanding
left to itself, possess but little power. Effects
are produced by the means of instruments and
helps, which the understanding requires no less
than the hand. And as instruments either pro-
mote or regulate the motion of the hand, so those
that are applied to the mind prompt or protect the
understanding.
3. Knowledge and human power are synony-
mous, since the ignorance of the cause frustrates
the effect. For nature is only subdued by sub-
mission, and that which in contemplative philo-
sophy corresponds with the cause, in practical
science becomes the rule.
4. Man, whilst operating, can only apply or
withdraw natural bodies; nature, internally, per-
forms the rest.
5. Those who become practically versed in
nature, are the mechanic, the mathematician, the
physician, the alchymist, and the magician; but
all (as matters now stand) with faint efforts and
meagre success.
6. It would be madness, and inconsistency, to
suppose that things which have never yet been
performed, can be performed without employing
some hitherto untried means.
7. The creations of the mind and hand appear
very numerous, if we judge by books and manu-
factures : but all that variety consists of an
excessive refinement, and of deductions from a
few well known matters; not of a number of
axioms.
8. Even the effects already discovered are due
to chance and experiment, rather than to the
sciences. For our present sciences are nothing
more than peculiar arrangements of matters al-
ready discovered, and not methods for discovery,
or plans for new operations.
9. The sole cause and root of almost every
defect in the sciences is this; that whilst we
falsely admire and extol the powers of the human
mind, we do not search for its real helps.
Vol. hi.— 44
10. The subtilty of nature is far beyond that
of sense or of the understanding: so that the
specious meditations, speculations, and theories
of mankind, are but a kind of insanity, only there
is no one to stand by and observe it.
11. As the present sciences are useless for the
discovery of effects, so the present system of
logic is useless for the discovery of the sciences.
12. The present system of logic rather assists
in confirming and rendering inveterate the errors
founded on vulgar notions, than in searching
after truth; and is therefore more hurtful than
useful.
13. The syllogism is not applied to the princi-
ples of the sciences, and is of no avail in inter-
mediate axioms, as being very unequal to the
subtilty of nature. It forces assent, therefore,
and not things.
14. The syllogism consists of propositions,
propositions of words, words are the signs of
notions. If, therefore, the notions (which form
the basis of the whole) be confused and careless-
ly abstracted from things, there is no solidity in
the superstructure. Our only hope, then, is in
genuine induction.
15. We have no sound notions either in logic
or physics; substance, quality, action, passion,
and existence are not clear notions ; much less,
weight, levity, density, tenuity, moisture, dryness,
generation, corruption, attraction, repulsion, ele-
ment, matter, form, and the like. They are all
fantastical and ill defined.
16. The notions of less abstract natures, as
man, dog, dove; and the immediate perceptions
of sense, as heat, cold, white, black, do not de-
ceive us materially, yet even these are sometimes
confused by the mutability of matter and the in-
termixture of things. All the rest, which men
have hitherto employed, are errors; and impro-
perly abstracted and deduced from things.
17. There is the same degree of licentiousness
and error in forming axioms, as in abstracting no-
tions: and that in the first principles, which de-
pend on common induction. Still more is this
the case in axioms and inferior propositions de-
rived from syllogisms.
18. The present discoveries in science are such
as lie immediately beneath the surface of common
notions. It is necessary, however, to penetrate
345
846
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book J.
the more secret and remote parts of nature, in
order to abstract both notions and axioms from
things, by a more certain and guarded method.
19. There are and can exist but two ways of
investigating and discovering truth. The one
hurries on rapidly from the senses and particulars
to the most general axioms ; and from them as
principles and their supposed indisputable truth
derives and discovers the intermediate axioms.
This is the way now in use. The other con-
structs its axioms from the senses and particulars,
by ascending continually and gradually, till it
finally arrives at the most general axioms, which
is the true but unattempted way.
20. The understanding when left to itself pro-
ceeds by the same way as that which it would
have adopted under the guidance of logic, name-
ly, the first. For the mind is fond of starting off
to generalities, that it may avoid labour, and after
dwelling a little on a subject is fatigued by expe-
riment. But these evils are augmented by logic,
for the sake of the ostentation of dispute.
21. The understanding when left to itself in a
man of a steady, patient, and reflecting disposition,
(especially when unimpeded by received doc-
trines,) makes some attempt in the right way,
but with little effect ; since the understanding,
undirected and unassisted, is unequal to and unfit
for the task of vanquishing the obscurity of
things.
22. Each of these two ways begins from the
senses and particulars, and ends in the greatest
generalities. But they are immeasurably differ-
ent; for the one merely touches cursorily the
limits of experiment, and particulars, whilst the
other runs duly and regularly through them ; the
one from the very outset lays down some abstract
and useless generalities, the other gradually rises
to those principles which are really the most
common in nature.
23. There is no small difference between the
idols of the human mind, and the ideas of the
divine mind ; that is to say, between certain idle
dogmas, and the real stamp and impression of
created objects, as they are found in nature.
24. Axioms determined upoYi in argument can
never assist in the discovery of new effects : for
the subtilty of nature is vastly superior to that of
argument. But axioms properly and regularly
abstracted from particulars, easily point out and
define new particulars, and therefore impart ac-
tivity to the sciences.
25. The axioms now in use are derived from a
scanty handful, as it were, of experience, and a
tew particulars of frequent occurrence, whence
they are of much the same dimensions or extent
as their origin. And if any neglected or unknown
instance occurs, the axiom is saved by some fri-
volous distinction, when it would be more con-
sistent with truth to amend it.
26. We are wont, fo<- the sake of distinction,
to call that human reasoning which we apply to
nature, the anticipation of nature, (as being rash
and premature;) and that which is properly de-
duced from things, the interpretation of nature.
27. Anticipations are sufficiently powerful in
producing unanimity, for if men were all to be-
come even uniformly mad, they might agree
tolerably well with each other.
28. Anticipations again will be assented to
much more readily than interpretations/ because,
being deduced from a few instances, and these
principally of familiar occurrence, they immedi-
ately hit the understanding, and satisfy the
imagination ; whilst, on the contrary, interpreta-
tions, being deduced from various subjects, and
these widely dispersed, cannot suddenly strike
the understanding; so that, in common estima-
tion, they must appear difficult and discordant,
and almost like the mysteries of faith.
29. In sciences founded on opinions and dog-
mas, it is right to make use of anticipations and
logic, if you wish to force assent rather than
things.
30. If all the capacities of all ages should unite
and combine and transmit their labours, no great
progress will be made in learning by anticipa-
tions ; because the radical errors, and those which
occur in the first process of the mind, are not
cured by the excellence of subsequent means and
remedies.
31. It is in vain to expect any great progress
in the sciences by the superinducing or engrafting
new matters upon old. An instauration must be
made from the very foundations, if we do not
wish to revolve forever in a circle, making only
some slight and contemptible progress.
32. The ancient authors, and all others, are left
in undisputed possession of their honours. For
we enter into no comparison of capacity or talent,
but of method ; and assume the part of a guide,
rather than of a critic.
33. To speak plainly, no correct judgment can
be formed, either of our method, or its discove-
ries, by those anticipations which are now in
common use; for it is not to be required of us to
submit ourselves to the judgment of the very
method we ourselves arraign.
34. Nor is it an easy matter to deliver and ex-
plain our sentiments : for those things which are
in themselves new can yet be only understood
from some analogy to what is old.
35. Alexander Borgia said of the expedition of
the French into Italy, that they came with chalk
in their hands to mark up their lodgings, and not
with weapons to force their passage. Even so do
we wish our philosophy to make its way quietly into
those minds that are fit for it, and of good capaci-
ty. For we have no need of contention where
we differ in first principles, and our very notions,
and even in our forms of demonstration.
36. We have but one simple method of deliver
Book I.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
347
injT our sentiments : namely, we must bring men
to particulars, and their regular series and order,
and they must for a while renounce their notions
and begin to form an acquaintance with things.
37. Our method and that of the skeptics agree
in some respects at first setting out: but differ
most widely and are completely opposed to each
otiier in their conclusion. For they roundly
assert that nothing can be known ; we, that but
a small part of nature can be known by the pre-
sent method. Their next step, however, is to de-
stroy the authority of the senses and understand-
ing, whilst we invent and supply them with
assistance.
38. The idols and false notions which have
already preoccupied the human understanding,
and are deeply rooted in it, not only to beset
men's minds, that they become difficult of access,
but, even when access is obtained, will again
meet and trouble us in the instauration of the
sciences, unless mankind, when forewarned,
guard themselves with all possible care against
them.
39. Four species of idols beset the human
mind : to which (for distinction's sake) we have
assigned names: calling the first idols of the
tribe ; the second idols of the den ; the third
idols of tlie market; the fourth idols of the
theatre.
40. The formation of notions and axioms on
the foundation of true induction, is the only fitting
remedy, by which we can ward off and expel
these idols. It is, however, of great service to
point them out. For the doctrine of idols bears
the same relation to the interpretation of nature,
as that of confutation of sophisms does to com-
mon logic.
41. The idols of the tribe are inherent in hu-
man nature, and the very tribe or race of man.
For man's sense is falsely asserted to be the
standard of things. On the contrary, all the per-
ceptions, both of the senses and the mind, bear
reference to man, and not to the universe, and the
human mind resembles those uneven mirrors,
which impart their own properties to different
objects, from which rays are emitted, and distort
and disfigure them.
4-2. The idols of the den are those of each
individual. For everybody (in addition to the
errors common to the race of man) has his own
individual den or cavern, which intercepts and
corrupts the light of nature ; either from his own
peculiar and singular disposition, or from his
education and intercourse with others, or from
his reading, and the authority acquired by those
whom he reverences and admires, or from the
different impressions produced on the mind, as it
happens to be preoccupied and predisposed, or
equable and tranquil, and the like : so that the
spirit of man (according to its several disposi-
tions) is variable, confused, and as it were ac-
tuated by chance ; and Heraclitus said well that
men search for knowledge in lesser worlds, and
not in the greater or common world.
43. There are also idols formed by the recipro-
cal intercourse and society of man with man,
which we call idols of the market, from the com-
merce and association of men with each other.
For men converse by means of language ; but
words are formed at the will of the generality ;
and there arises from a bad and unapt formation
of words a wonderful obstruction to the mind.
Nor can the definitions and explanations, with
which learned men are wont to guard and protect
themselves in some instances, afford a complete
remedy : words still manifestly force the under-
standing, throw every thing into confusion, and
lead mankind into vain and innumerable contro-
versies and fallacies.
44. Lastly, there are idols which have crept
into men's minds from the various dogmas of
peculiar systems of philosophy, and also from the
perverted rules of demonstration, and these we
denominate idols of the theatre. For we regard
all the systems of philosophy hitherto received or
imagined, as so many plays brought out and per-
formed, creating fictitious and theatrical worlds.
Nor do we speak only of the present systems, or
of the philosophy and sects of the ancients, since
numerous other plays of a similar nature can be
still composed and made to agree with each other,
the causes of the most opposite errors being gene-
rally the same. Nor, again, do we allude merely
to general systems, but also to many elements
and axioms of sciences, which have become in-
veterate by tradition, implicit credence, and neg-
lect. We must, however, discuss each species
of idols more fully and distinctly, in order to guard
the human understanding against them.
45.* The human understanding, from its pecu-
liar nature, easily supposes a greater degree of
order and equality in things than it really finds ;
and although many things in nature be sui gene-
ris, and most irregular, will yet invent parallels
and conjugates, and relatives, where no such thing
is. Hence the fiction, that all celestial bodies
were in perfect circles, thus rejecting entirely
spiral and serpentine lines, (except as explanatory
terms.) Hence, also, the element of fire is in-
troduced with its peculiar orbit, to keep square
with those other three which are objects of our
senses. The relative rarity of the elements (as
they are called) is arbitrarily made to vary in ten-
fold progression, with many other dreams of
the like nature. Nor is this folly confined to
theories, but it is to be met with even in simple
notions.
46. The human understanding, when any pro-
position has been once laid down, (either from
general admission and belief, or from the pleasure
* Hence to Aphorism 53 treats of the idols of the tribe
NOVUM ORGANI^I.
Book L
it affords,) forces every thing else to add fresh
support and confirmation ; and althou2;h more
cogent and abundant instances may exist to the
contrary, yet either does not obsorve or despises
them, or gets rid of and rejects them by some
distinction, with violent and injurious prejudice,
ratherthan sacrifice the authority of its firstcon-
clusions. It was well answered by him who was
shown in a temple the votive tablets suspended
by such as had escaped the peril of shipwreck,
and was pressed as to whether he would then
recognise the power of the gods, by an inquiry;
" But where are the portraits of those who have
perished in spite of their vows'?" All supersti-
tion is much the same, whether it be that of
astrology, dreams, omens, retributive judgment,
or the Hive ; in all of which the deluded believers
observe events which are fulfilled, but neglect
and pass over their failure, though it be much
more common. But this evil insinuates itself
still more craftily in philosophy and the sciences ;
in which a settled maxim vitiates and governs
every other circumstance, though the latter be
much more worthy of confidence. Besides, even
in the absence of that eagerness and want of
thought, (which we have mentioned,) it is the
peculiar and perpetual error of the human under-
standing to be more moved and excited by affirma-
tives than by negatives, whereas it ought duly
and regularly to be impartial ; nay, in establishing
any true axiom, the negative instance is the most
powerful.
47. The human understanding is most excited
by that which strikes and enters the mind at once
and suddenly, and by which the imagination is
immediately filled and inflated. It then begins
almost imperceptibly to conceive and suppose
that every thing is similar to the few objects
which have taken possession of the mind ; whilst
it is very slow and unfit for the transition to the
remote and heterogeneous instances, by which
axioms are tried as by fire, unless the office be
imposed upon it by severe regulations, and a
powerful authority.
48. The human understanding is active and
cannot halt or rest, but even, though without
effect, still presses forward. Thus we cannot
conceive of any end or external boundary of the
world, and it seems necessarily to occur to us,
that there must be something beyond. Nor can
we imagine how eternity has flowed on down to
the present day, since the usually received dis-
tinction of an infinity, a parte ante and a parte
post, cannot hold good : for it would thence follow
that one infinity is greater than another, and also
that infinity is wasting away and tending to an
end. There is the same difficulty in considering
the infinite divisibility of lines, arising from the
weakness of our minds, which weakness inter-
feres to still greater disadvantage with the dis-
covery of causes. For, although the greatest
generalities in nature must be positive, just as
they are found, and in fact not causable, yet, the
human understanding,incapaI)leofresting,seek8
for something more intelligible. Thus, however,
whilst aiminji at further progress, it fulls back
to what is actually less advanced, namely, final
causes ; for tliey are clearly more allied to man's
own nature than the system of the universe;
and from this source they have wonderfully cor-
rupted philosophy. But he would be an unskil-
ful and shallow philosopher, who should seek
for causes in the greatest generalities, and not
be anxious to discover them in subordinate ob«
jects.
49. The human understanding resembles no
a dry light, but admits a tincture of the will and
passions, which generate their own system ac-
cordingly: for man always believes more readily
that which he prefers. He, therefore, rejects
difficulties for want of patience in investigation;
sobriety, because it limits his hope; the depths
of nature, from superstition ; the light of experi-
ment, from arrogance and pride, lest his mind
should appear to be occupied with common and
varying objects; paradoxes, from a fear of the
opinion of the vulgar; in short, his feelings imbue
and corrupt his understanding in innumerable and
sometimes imperceptible ways.
50. But by far the greatest impediment and
aberration of the human understanding proceeds
from the dulness, incompetency, and errors of the
senses : since whatever strikes the senses pre-
ponderates over every thing, however superior,
which does not immediately strike them. Hence
contemplation mostly ceases with sight; and a
very scanty, or perhaps no regard is paid to in-
visible objects. The entire operation, therefore,
of spirits enclosed in tangible bodies is concealed
and escapes us. All that more delicate change
of formation in the parts of coarser substances
(vulgarly called alteration, but in fact a change
of position in the smallest particles) is equally
unknown ; and yet, unless the two matters we
have mentioned be explored and brought to light,
no great effect can be produced in nature. Again,
the very nature of common air, and all bodies of
less density (of which there are many) is almost
unknown. For the senses are weak and erring,
nor can instruments be of great use in extending
their sphere or acuteness ; all the better interpre-
tations of nature are worked out by instances, and
fit and apt experiments, where the senses only
judge of the experiment, the experiment of nature
and the thing itself.
j 51. The human understanding is, by its own
' nature, prone to abstraction, and supposes that
I which is fluctuating to he fixed. But it is better
I to dissect than abstract nature; such was the
! method employed by the school of Democritus,
which made greater progress in penetrating nature
than the rest. It 's best to consider matter, its
liooK I.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
fonformation, and the changes of that conforma-
tion, its own action, and the law of this action or
motion, for forms are a mere fiction of the human
mind, unless you will call the laws of action by
that name. Such are tlie idols of the tribe, which
arise either from the uniformity of the constitution
of man's spirit, or its prejudices, or its limited
faculties, or restless agitation, or from the inter-
ference of the passions, or the incompetency of
the senses, or the mode of their impressions.
53. The idols* of the den derive their orijrin
from the peculiar nature of each individual's mind
and body ; and also from education, habit, and
accident. And although they be various and
manifold, yet we will treat of some that require
the greatest caution, and exert the greatest power
in polluting the understanding.
54. Some men become attached to particular
sciences and contemplations, either from sup-
posing themselves the authors and inventors of
them, or from having bestowed the greatest pains
upon such subjects, and thus become most habitu-
ated to them. If men of this description apply
themselves to philosophy and contemplations of
an universal nature, they wrest and corrupt them
by their preconceived fancies ; of which Aristotle
aflfords us a signal instance, who made his natural
philosophy completely subservient to his logic,
and thus rendered it little more than useless and
disputatious. The chymists, again, have formed
a fanciful philosophy with the most confined
views, from a ievf experiments of the furnace.
Gilbert, too, having employed himself most assi-
duously in the consideration of the magnet, imme-
diately established a system of philosophy to
coincide with his favourite pursuit.
55. The greatest, and, perhaps, radical distinc-
tion between different men's dispositions for phi-
losophy and the scienf-es is this ; that some are
more vigorous and active in observing the differ-
ences of things, others in observing their resem-
blances. For a steady and acute disposition can
fix its thoughts, and dwell upon, and adhere to a
point, through all the refinements of differences;
but those that are sublime and discursive recog-
nise and compare even the most delicate and
genera! resemblances. Each of them readily falls
into excess, by catching either at nice distinctions
or shadows of resemblance.
56. Some dispositions evince an unbounded
admiration of antiquity, others eagerly embrace
novelty ; and but few can preserve the just me-
dium, so as neither to tear up what the ancients
have correctly laid down, nor to despise the just
innovations of the moderns. But this is very
prejudicial to the sciences and philosophy, and,
instead of a correct judgment, we have but the
factions of the ancients and moderns. Truth is
not to be sought in the good fortune of any parti-
cular conjuncture of time, which is uncertain, but
in the light of nature and experience, which is
eternal. Such factions, therefore, are to be ab-
jured, and the understanding must not allow them
to hurry it on to assent.
57. The contemplation of nature and of bodieg
in their individual form distracts and weakens the
understanding: but the contemplation of nature
and of bodies in their general composition and
formation stupifies and relaxes it. We have a
good instance of this in the school of Leucippus
and Democritus compared with others: for they
applied themselves so much to particulars as
almost to neglect the general structure of things,
whilst the others were so astounded whilst gazing
on the structure, that they did not penetrate the
simplicity of nature. These two species of con-
templation must therefore be interchanged, and
each employed in its turn, in order to render the
understanding at once penetrating and capacious,
and to avoid the inconveniences we have men-
tioned, and the idols that result from them.
58. Let such, therefore, be our precautions in
contemplation, that we may ward off and expel
the idols of the den: which mostly owe their
birth either to some predominant pursuit; or,
secondly, to an excess in synthesis and analysis ;
or, thirdly, to a party zeal in favour of certain
ages ; or, fourthly, to the extent or narrowness of
the subject. In general, he who contemplates
nature should suspect whatever particularly takes
and fixes his understanding, and should use bo
much the more caution to preserve it equable and
unprejudiced.
59. The idols* of the market are the most
troublesome of all, those, namely, which have en-
twined themselves round the understanding from
the associations of words and names. For men
imagine that their reason governs words, whilst,
in fact, words react upon the understanding ; and
this has rendered philosophy and the sciences
sophistical and inactive. Words are generally
formed in a popular sense, and define things by
those broad lines which are most obvious to the
vulgar mind ; but when a more acute understand-
ing, or more diligent observation is anxious to
vary those lines, and to adapt them more accu-
rately to nature, words oppose it. Hence the
great and solemn disputes of learned men often
terminate in controversies about words and names,
in regard to which it would be better (imitating
the caution of mathematicians) to proceed more
advisedly in the first instance, and to bring such
disputes to a regular issue by definitions. Such
definitions, however, cannot remedy the evil in
natural and material objects, because they con-
sist themselves of words, and these words pro
duce others ; so that we must necessarily have
recourse to particular instances, and their regular
H(>nce to Aplioiism 59, treats of the idols of tlie den.
♦ Hence to Aphorism 61, treats of the Idols of the market
2 G
350
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book 1
series and arrangement, as we shall mention when
we come to the mode and scheme of determining
notions and axioms.
60. The idols imposed upon the understanding
by words are of two kinds. They are either the
names of things which have no existence, (for, as
some objects are from inattention left without a
name, so names are formed by fanciful imagina-
tions which are without an object,) or they are the
names of actual objects, but confused, badly de-
fined, and hastily and irregularly abstracted from
things. Fortune, the primum mobile, the plane-
tary orbits, the element of fire, and the like fic-
tions, which owe their birth to futile and false
theories, are instances of the first kind. And this
species of idols is removed with greater facility,
because it can be exterminated by the constant
refutation or the desuetude of the theories them-
selves. The others, which are created by vicious
and unskilful abstraction, are intricate and deeply
rooted. Take some word for instance, as moist ,■
and let us examine how far the different signifi-
cations of this word are consistent. It will be
found that the word moist is nothing but a con-
fused sign of different actions, admitting of no
settled and defined uniformity. For it means that
which easily diffuses itself over another body ;
that which is indeterminable and cannot be
brought to a consistency ; that which yields
easily in every direction ; that which is easily
divided and dispersed ; that which is easily united
and collected ; that which easily flows and is put
in motion ; that which easily adheres to and wets
another body ; that which is easily reduced to a
liquid state, though previously solid. When,
therefore, you come to predicate or impose this
name, in one sense flame is moist, in another air
is not moist, in another fine powder is rnoist, in
another glass is moist ; so that it is quite clear
that this notion is hastily abstracted from water
only, and common, ordinary liquors, without any
due verification of it.
There are, however, different degrees of distor-
tion and mistake in words. One of the least
faulty classes is that of the names of substances,
particularly of the less abstract and more defined
species ; (those then of chalk and mud are good, of
earth, bad;) words signifying actions are more
faulty, as to generate, to corrupt, to change,- but
the most faulty are those denoting qualities, (ex-
cept the immediate objects of sense,) as heavy,
light, rare, dense. Yet in all of these there must
be some notions a little better than others, in pro-
portion as a greater or less number of things come
before the senses.
6i The idols of the theatre* are not innate,
nor do they introduce themselves secretly into
the understanding ; but they are manifestly instil-
led and cherished by the fictions of theories and
• Kence to Aohorism 68, treats of the idols of the theatre.
depraved rules of demonstration. To attempt,
however, or undertake their confutation, would
not be consistent with our declarations. For,
since we neither agree in our principles nor our
demonstrations, all argument is out of the ques-
tion. And it is fortunate that the ancients are
left in possession of their honours. We detract
nothing from them, seeing our whole doctrine
relates only to the path to be pursued. The
lame (as they say) in the path outstrip the swift,
who wander from it, and it is clear that the very
skill and swiftness of him who runs not in the
right direction, must increase his aberration.
Our method of discovering the sciences is such
as to leave little to the acuteness and strength of
wit, and indeed rather to level wit and intellect.
For, as in the drawing of a straight line or accu-
rate circle by the hand, much depends upon its
steadiness and practice, but if a ruler or compass
be employed there is little occasion for either; so
it is with our method. Although, however, we
enter into no individual confutations, yet a little
must be said, first, of the sects and general divi-
sions of these species of theories; secondly,
something further to show that there are external
signs of their weakness, and, lastly, we must
consider the causes of so great a misfortune, and
so long and general a unanimity in error, that we
may thus render the access to truth less diffi-
cult, and that the human understanding may the
more readily be purified, and brought to dismiss
its idols.
G2. The idols of the theatre or of theories are
numerous, and may and perhaps will be still
more so. For, unless men's minds had been
now occupied for many ages in religious and
theological considerations, and civil governments
(especially monarchies) had been averse to novel-
ties of that nature, even in theory, (so that men
must apply to them with some risk and injury to
their own fortunes, and not only without reward,
but subject to contumely and envy.) there is no
doubt that many other sects of philosophers and
theorists would have been introduced, like those
which formerly flourished in such diversified
abundance amongst the Greeks. For, as many
imaginary theories of the heavens can be deduced
from the phenomena of the sky, so it is even
more easy to found many dogmas upon the phe-
nomena of philosophy ; and the plot of this our
theatre resembles those of the poetical, where the
plots which are invented for the stage are more
consistent, elegant, and pleasurable than those
taken from real history.
In general, men take for the groundwork of
their philosophy either too much from a few to-
pics, or too little from many ; in either case their
philosophy is founded on too narrow a basis of
experiment and natural history, and decides on
too scanty grounds. For the theoretic philosopher
seizes various common circumstances by experi-
DoClK 1.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
351
ment, without reHiirinnr thorn to certainty, or
exainining and frequently considerinof them, and
relies for the rest upon meditation and the activity
of his wit.
There are other philosophers who have dili-
gently and accurately attended to a few experi-
ments, and have thence presumed to deduce and
invent systems of philosophy, forming every
thing to conformity with them.
A third set, from their faith and religious vene-
ration, introduce theology and traditions; the
absurdity of some amongst them having pro-
ceeded so far as to seek and derive the sciences
f'-om spirits and genii. There are, therefore,
three sources of error and three species of false
philosophy ; the sophistic, empiric, and supersti-
tious.
63. Aristotle affords the most eminent instance
of the first ; for he corrupted natural philosophy
by logic: thus, he formed the world of catego-
ries, assigned to the human soul, the noblest of
substances, a genus determined by words of
secondary operation, treated of density and rarity
(by which bodies occupy a greater or lesser space)
by the frigid distinctions of action and power,
asserted that there was a peculiar and proper mo-
tion in all liodies, and that if they shared in any
other motion, it was owing to an external moving
cause, and imposed innumerable arbitrary dis-
tinctions upon the nature of things ; being every-
where more anxious as to definitions in teaching,
and the accuracy of the wording of his proposi-
tions, than the internal truth of things. And this
is best shown by a comparison of his philosophy
with the others of greatest repute among the
Greeks, For the similar parts of Anaxagoras,
the atoms of Leucippus and Democritus, the
heaven and earth of Parmenides, the discord and
concord of Empedocles, the resolution of bodies
into the common nature of fire, and their conden-
sation, according to Heraclitus, exhibit some
sprinkling of natural philosophy, the nature of
things, and experiment, whilst Aristotle's phy-
sics are mere logical terms, and he remodelled
the same subject in his metaphysics under a more
imposing title, and more as a realist than a nomi-
nalist. Nor is much stress to be laid on his
frequent recourse to experiment in his books on
animals, his problems, and other treatises; for he
had already decided, without having properly
consulted experience as the basis of his decisions
and axioms, and after having so decided, he drags
experiment along, as a captive constrained to ac-
commodate herself to lus decisions ; so that he is
even more to be blamed than his modern followers,
(of the scholastic school,) who have deserted her
altogether.
61. The empiric school produces dogmas of a
more deformed and monstrous nature than the
sophistic or theoretic school : not being founded
in the light of common notions, (which, however
poor and superficial, is yet in a manner universal
and of a general tendency,) but in the confined
obscurity of a few experiments. Hence this
species of philosophy appears probable and
almost certain to those who are daily practised
in such experiments, and have thus corrupted
their imagination, but incredible and futile to
others. We have a strong instance of this in the
alchymists and their dogmas; it would be difli-
cult to find another in this age, unless, perhaps,
in the philosophy of Gilbert.* We could not,
however, neglect to caution others against this
school, because we already foresee and augur,
that if men be hereafter induced by our exhorta-
tions to apply seriously to experiments, (bidding
farewell to the sophistic doctrines,) there will
then be imminent danger from empirics, owing
to the premature and forward haste of the under-
standing, and its jumping or flying to generalities
and the principles of things. We ought, there-
fore, already to meet the evil.
65. The corruption of philosophy by the mixing
of it up with superstition and theology is of a much
wider extent, and is most injurious to it, both as a
whole and in parts. For the human understanding
is no less exposed to the impressions of fancy, than
to those of vulgar notions. The disputatious and
sophistic school entraps the understanding, whilst
the fanciful, bombastic, and, as it were, poetical
school rather flatters it. There is u clear example
of this among the Greeks, especially in Pythago-
ras, where, however, the superstition is coarse and
overcharged, but it is more dangerous and refined
in Plato and his school. This evil is found also
in some branches of other systems of philosophy,
where it.introduces abstracted forms, final and first
causes, omitting frequently the intermediate, and
the like. Against it we must use the greatest
caution ; for the apotheosis of error is tiie greatest
evil of all, and when folly is worshipped, it is,
as it were, a plague-spot upon the understanding.
Yet, some of the moderns have indulged this
folly, with such consummate inconsiderateness,
that they have endeavoured to build a system of
natural philosophy on the first chapter of Genesis,
the book of Job, and other parts of Scripture;
seeking thus the dead amongst the living. And
this folly is the more to be prevented and re-
strained, because not only fantastical philosophy
but heretical religion spring from the absurd mix-
ture of matters divine and human. It is, there-
fore, most wise soberly to render unto faith the
things that are faith's.
66. Having spoken of the vicious authority of
the systems founded either on vulvar notions, or
on a few experiments, or on superstition, we must
now consider the faulty subjects for contempla-
tion, especially in natural philosophy. The
• It is thus theVulcaniftg and Neptunians have trained tlieli
opposite theories in peology. Phrenology is a modern instance
of hasty generalization.
352
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book I.
human understanding is perverted by observing
the power of mechanical arts, in which bodies
are very materially changed by composition or
separation, and is induced to suppose that some-
thing similar takes place in the universal nature
of things. Hence the fiction of elements, and
their co-operation in forming natural bodies.
Again, when man reflects upon the entire liberty
of nature, he meets with particular species of
things, as animals, plants, minerals, and is thence
easily led to imagine that there exist in nature
certain primary forms which she strives to pro-
duce, and that all variation from them arises from
some impediment or error which she is exposed
to in completing her work, or from the collision
or metamorphosis of different species. The first
hypothesis has produced the doctrine of element-
ary properties, the second that of occult properties
aivl specific powers .• and both lead to trifling courses
of reflection, in which the mind acquiesces, and
is thus diverted from more important subjects.
But physicians exercise a much more useful
labour in the consideration of the secondary quali-
ties of things, and the operations of attraction,
repulsion, attenuation, inspissation, dilatation,
astringency, separation, maturation, and the like ;
and would do still more if they would not cor-
rupt these proper observations by the two systems
I have alluded to, of elementary qualities and
specific powers, by which they either reduce the
secondary to first qualities, and their subtile and
immeasurable composition, or at any rate neg-
lect to advance by greater and more diligent
observation to the third and fourth qualities,
thus terminating their contemplation prematurely.
Nor are these powers (or the like) to be in-
vestigated only among the medicines of the
human body, but also in all changes of other
natural bodies.
A greater evil arises from the contemplation
and investigation rather of the stationary princi-
ples of things, from which, than of the active, by
which things themselves are created. For the
former only serve for discussion, the latter for
practice. Nor is any value to be set on those
common dilTerences of motion which are observed
in the received system of natural philosophy, as
generation, corruption, augmentation, diminution,
alteration, and translation. For this is their
meaning: if a body, unchanged in other respects,
is moved from its place, this is translation ,• if the
place and species be given, but the quantity
changed, it is alteration ; but if, from such a
change, the mass and quantity of the body do not
continue the same, this is the motion o^ au<rmen-
tation and diminution ; if the change be continued
HO as to vary the species and substance, and trans-
fuse them to others, this is generation and corrup-
tian. All this is merely popular, and by no
means penetrates into nature ; and these are but
the measnies and bounds of motion, and not dif-
ferent species of it ; they merely suggest how far.
and not how or whence. P'or they exhibit neither
the affections of bodies, nor the process of their
parts, but merely establish a division of that mo-
tion, which coarsely exhibits to the senses matter
in its varied form. Even when they wish to
point out something relative to tlie causes of mo-
tion, and to establish a division of them, thoy
most absurdly introduce natural and violent mo-
tion, which is also a popular notion, since every
violent motion is also in fact natural, that is to
say, the external efficient puts nature in action in
a different manner to that which she had pre-
viously employed.
But if, neglecting these, any one were for in-
stance to observe, that there is in bodies a tendency
of adhesion, so as not to suffer the unity of nature
to be completely separated or broken, and a va-
cuum to be formed ; or that they have a tendency
to return to their natural dimensions or tension,
so that, if compressed or extended within or be-
yond it, they immediately strive to recover them-
selves, and resume their former volume and extent;
or that they have a tendency to congregate into
masses with similar bodies, the dense, for instance,
towards the circumference of the earth, the thin
and rare towards that of the heavens, these and
the like are true physical genera of motions, hut
the others are clearly logical and scholastic, as
appears plainly from a comparison of the two.
Another considerable evil is, that men in their
systems and contemplations bestow their labour
upon the investigation and discussion of the prin-
ciples of things and the extreme limits of nature,
although all utility and means of action consist in
the intermediate objects. Hence men cease not
to abstract nature till they arrive at potential and
shapeless matter, and still persist in their dissec-
tion, till they arrive at atoms ; and yet, were all this
true, it would be of little use to advance man's
estate.
67. The understanding must also be cautioned
against the intemperance of systems, so far as
regards its giving or withholding its assent; for
such intemperance appears to fix and perpetuate
idols, so as to leave no means of removing them.
These excesses are of two kinds. The first is
seen in those who decide hastily, and render the
sciences positive and dictatorial. The other in
those who have introduced skepticism, and vague,
unbounded inquiry. The former subdues, the
latter enervates the understanding. The Aristo-
telian i)hilosophy, after destroying other systems
(as the Ottomans do their brethren) by its dispu-
tations, confutations, decided upon every thing,
and Aristotle himself then raises up questions at
will, in order to settle them ; so that every thing
should be certain and decided, a method now in
use among his successors.
The school of Plato introduced skepticism, nrst,
as it were, in joke and irony, from their dislike
NOVUM ORGANUM.
35^
to ProtaiTorhS, Hippias, and others, who were
ashamed of a|)pearinff not to doubt upon any sub-
ject. Hut the new academy do<rmali'/ed in their
skepticism, and hehi it as their tenet. Although
this method be more lionest than arbitrary deci-
8ic>n, (for its followers allege that they by no
means confound all inquiry, like Pyrrho and his
disciples, but hold doctrines which they can fol-
low as probable, though they cannot maintain
them to he true,) yet, when the human mind has
once despaired of discovering truth, every thing
begins to languish. Hence men turn aside into
pleasant controversies and discussions, and into a
sort of wandering over subjects, rather than sus-
tain any rigorous investigation. But, as we ob-
served at first, we are not to deny the authority
of the human senses and understanding, although
weak ; hut rather to furnish them with assistance.
68. We have now treated of each kind of idols,
and their qualities; all of which must be abjured
and renounced with firm and solemn resolution,
and the understanding must be completely freed
and cleared of them; so that the access to the
kingdom of man, which is founded on the sci-
ences, may resemble that to the kingdom of
heaven, where no admission is conceded except
to children.
69. Vicious demonstrations are the muniments
and support of idols, and those which we possess
in logic, merely subject and enslave the world to
human thoughts, and thoughts to words. But
demonstrations are, in some manner, themselves
systems of philosophy and science. For such as
they are, and accordingly as they are regularly or
improperly established, such will be the resulting
systems of philosophy and contemplation. But
those which we employ in the whole process
leading from the senses and things to axioms and
conclusions, are fallacious and incompetent. This
process is fourfold, and the errors are in equal
number. In the first place the impressions of
the senses are erroneous, for they fail and deceive
us. We must supply defects by substitutions,
and fallacies by their correction. 2dly. Notions
are improperly abstracted from the senses, and
indeterminate and confused when they ought to
be the reverse. 3dly. The induction that is cm-
ployed is improper, for it determines the princi-
ples of sciences by simple enumeration, without
adopting the exclusions, and resolutions, or just
separations of nature. Lastly, the usual method
of discovery and proof, by first establishing the
most general propositions, then applying and
proving the intermediate axioms according to
them, is the parent of error and the calamity of
every science. But we will treat more fully of
that which we now slightly touch upon, when
we come to lay down the true way of interpreting
nature, after having gone through the above ex-
piatory process and purification of the mind.
70. But experience is by far the best demon-
VoL. III.— 15
stration, provided it adhere to the experiment
actually made; for if that experiment be trans-
ferred to other subjects apparently similar, unless
with proper and methodical caution, it becomes
fallacious. The present method of experiment
is blind and stupid. Hence men wandering and
roaming without any determined course, and con-
sulting mere chance, are hurried about to various
points, and advance but little; at one time they
are happy, at another their attention is distracted,
and tliey always find tbat they want something
further. Men generally make their experiments
carelessly, and as it were in sport, making some
little variation in a known experiment, and then,
if they fail, they become disgusted and give up
the attempt: nay, if they set to work more se-
riously, steadily, and assiduously, yet they waste
all their time on probing some solitary matter; as
Gilbert on the magnet, and the alchymists on
gold. But such conduct shows their method to
be no less unskilful than mean. For nobody can
successfully investigate the nature of any object
by considering that object alone ; the inquiry must
be more generally extended.
Even when men build any science and theoi-y
upon experiment, yet they almost always turn
with premature and hasty zeal to practice, not
merely on account of the advantage and benefit
to be derived from it, but in order to seize upon
some security in a new undertaking of their not
employing the remainder of their labour unprofit-
ably ; and by making themselves conspicuous, to
acquire a greater name for their pursuit. Hence,
like Atalanta, they leave the course to pick up
the golden apple, interrupting their speed, and
giving up the victory. But, in the true couise of
experiment, and in extending it to new effects,
we should imitate the Divine foresight and order.
For God, on the first day, only created light, and
assigned a whole day to that work, without
creating any material substance thereon. In like
manner, we must first, by every kind of experi-
ment, elicit the discovery of causes and true
axioms, and seek for experiments which may
afford light rather than profit. Axioms, when
rightly investigated and established, prepare us
not for a limited but abundant practice, and bring
in their train whole troops of effects. But we
will treat hereafter of the ways of experience,
which are not less beset and interrupted than
those of judgment; having spoken at present of
common experience only as a bad species of de-
monstration, the order of our subject now requires
some mention of those external signs of thw
weakness in practice of the received systems ol
philosophy and contemplation,* which we refer-
red to above, and of the causes of a circumstance
at first sight so wonderful and incredible, Forthi-i
knowledge of these external signs prepares ihv
♦ See Ax. 61, towards the end. This subject exten<1'i to
Ax. 78.
2o2
354
x\OVUM ORGANUM.
Be
way for assent, and the explanation of the causes
removes the wonder; and these two circum-
stances are of material use in extirpating more
easily and gently the idols from the under-
standing.
71. The sciences we possess have been princi-
pally derived from the Greeks: for the addition
of the Roman, Arabic, or more modern writers are
but few, and of small importance; and, such as they
are, are founded on the basis of Greek invention.
But the wisdom of the Greeks was professional
and disputatious, and thus most adverse to the
investigation of truth. The name, therefore, of
sophists, which the contemptuous spirit of those
who deemed themselves philosophers, rejected
and transferred to the rhetoricians, Gorgias, Pro-
tagoras, Hippias, Polus, might well suit the
whole tribe, such as Plato, Aristotle, Zeno, Epi-
curus, Theophrastus, and their successors, Chry-
sippus, Carneades, and the rest. There was only
this difference between them, the former were
mercenary vagabonds, travelling about to differ-
ent states, making a show of their wisdom and re-
quiring pay; the latter, more dignified and noble,
in possession of fixed habitations, opening schools,
and teaching philosophy gratuitously. Both,
however, (though differing in other respects,)
were professorial, and reduced every subject to
controversy, establishing and defending certain
sects and dogmas of philosophy: so that their
doctrines were nearly (what Dionysius not un-
aptly objected to Plato) "the talk of idle old men to
ignorant youths." But the more ancient Greeks,
as Empedocles, Anaxagoras, Leucippus, Democri-
tus, Parmenides, Ileraclitus, Xenophanes, Philo-
laus, and the rest, (for i omit Pythagoras, as being
superstitious,) did not (that we are aware) open
schools ; but betook themselves to the investigation
of truth with greater silence, and with more severity
and simplicity : that is, with less affectation and
ostentation. Hence, in our opinion, they acted more
advisedly, however their works may have been
eclipsed in course of time by those lighteT produc-
tions which better correspond with and please the
apprehensions and passionsof the vulgar : for time,
like ariver, bears down to us that which is light and
inflated, and sinks that which is heavy and solid.
Nor were even these more ancient philosophers
free from the natural defect, but inclined too much
to the ambition and vanity of forming a sect, and
captivating public opinion; and we must despair
of any inquiry after truth, when it condescends to
such trifles. Nor must we omit the opinion or
rather prophecy of an Egyptian priest with regard
to the Greeks, " that they would for ever remain
children, without any antiquity of knowledge or
knowledge of antiquity." For they certainly
Irave this in common with children, that they are
(•tone to talking and incapable of generation,
(heir wisdom being loquacious, and unproductive
of eflects. Hence the external signs derived
from the origin and birthplace of our present
philosojjliy are not favourable.
72. Nor are those much belter which can be
deduced from the character of the time and age,
than the former from that of the country and na-
tion. For in that age the knowledge bcth of time
and of the world was confined and meagre, which
is one of the worst evils for those who rely en-
tirely on experience. They had not a thousand
years of history, worthy of that name, but mere
fables and ancient tra/li lions. 'J'hey were acquaint-
ed with but a small portion of the regions and
countries of the world — for they indiscriminately
called all nations situated far towards the north
Scythians, all those to the west Celts ; they
knew nothing of Africa, but the nearest part of
Ethiopia, or of Asia beyond the Ganges, and had
not even heard any sure and clear tradition of the
region of the new world. Besides, a vast number
of climates and zones, in which innumerable
nations live and breathe, were pronounced by them
to be uninhabitable, nay, the travels of Demoori-
tus, Plato, and Pythagoras, which were not
extensive, but rather mere excursions from home,
were considered as something vast. But in our
times many parts of the new world, and everv
extremity of the old are well known, and the
mass of experiments has been infinitely increased.
Wherefore, if external signs were to be taken
frorfi the time of the nativity or procreation, (as in
astrology,) nothing extraordinary could be pre-
dicted of these early systems of philosophy.
73. Of all signs there is none more certain or
worthy than that of the fruits produced : for the
fruits and effects are the sureties and vouchers, as
it were, for the truth of philosophy. Now, from
the systems of the Greeks and their subordinate
divisions in particular branches of the sciences
during so long a period, scarcely one single expe-
riment can be culled that has a tendency to elevate
or assist mankind, and can be fairly set down to
the speculations and doctrines of their philosophy.
Celsus candidly and wisely confesses as much,
when he observes that experiments were first
discovered in medicine, and that men afterwards
built their philosophical systems upon them, and
searched for and assigned causes, instead of the
inverse method of discovering and deriving expe-
riments from philosophy and the knowledge of
causes. It is not, therefore, wonderful that the
Egyptians (who bestowed divinity and sacred
honours on the authors of new inventions) should
have consecrated more images of brutes than of
men; for the brutes, by their natural instinct,
made many discoveries, whilst men discovered
but few from discussion and the conclusions of
reason.
The industry of the alchymists has produced
some effect, by chance, however, and casualty, or
from varying their experiments, (as mechanics also
do,) and not from any regular art or theory ; the
Book I.
NOVUM ORGAN UM.
355
theory thciy have imagined rather tondiiig tod istiirh
than to assist experiment. Those, too, who have
occupied themselves with natural majric, (as they
term it,) have made hut few discoveries, and those
of small import, and bordering on imposture. For
which reason, in tiie same manner as we are cau-
tioned by religion to show our faith by our works,
we may very properly apply the principle to phi-
losophy, and judge of it hy its works; accounting
that to be futile which is unproductive, and still
more so, if instead of grapes and olives it yield
but the thistle and thorns of dispute and contention.
74. Other signs may be selected from the in-
crease and progress of particular systems of phi-
losophy and the sciences. For those which are
founded on nature grow and increase, whilst those
which are founded on opinion change, and in-
crease not. If, therefore, the theories we have
mentioned were not like plants torn up by the roots,
but grew in the womb of nature and were nou-
rished by her ; that which for the last two thou-
sand years has taken place would never have
happened : namely, that the sciences still con-
tinue in their beaten track, and nearly stationary,
without having received any important increase;
nay, having, on the contrary, rather bloomed under
the hands of their first author, and then faded
away. Eut we see that the case is reversed in
the mechanical arts, which are founded on nature
and the light of experience, for they (as long as
they are popular) seem full of life, and uninter-
ruptedly tlirive and grow, being at first rude, then
convenient, lastly polished, and perpetually im-
proved.
75. There is yet another sign, (if such it may
be termed, being rather an evidence, and one of
the strongest nature,) namely, the actual confes-
sion of those very authorities whom men now
follow. For even they who decide on things so
daringly, yet, at times, when they reflect, betake
themselves to complaints about the subtilty of
nature, the obscurity of things, and the weakness
of man's wit. If they would merely do this, they
might perhaps deter those who are of a timid dis-
position from further inquiry, but would excite
and stimulate those of a more active and confident
turn to further advances. They are not, however,
satisfied with confessing so much of themselves,
but consider every thing which has been either
unknown or unattempted by themselves or their
teachers, as beyond the limits of possibility ; and
>hns, with most consummate pride and envy, con-
vert the defects of their own discoveries into a
calumny on nature, and a source of despair to
every one else. Hence arose the new academy,
which openly professed skepticism and consigned
mankind to eternal darkness. Hence the notion
that forms, or the true differences of things, (which
are in fact the laws of simple action,) are beyond
man's reach, and cannot possibly be discovered.
Hence those notions in the active and operative
branches ; that the heat of the sun and of fire are
totally different, so as to prevent men from sup.
posing that they can elicit or form, by means of
fire, any thing similar to the operations of nature ;
and, again, that composition only is the work of
man and mixture of nature, so as to prevent men
from expecting the generation or transformation
! of natural bodies by art. Men will, therefore,
! easily allow themselves to be persuaded by this
j sign, not to engage their fortunes and labour in
speculations, which are not only desperate, but
actually devoted to desperation.
76. Nor should we omit the sign afforded by
the great dissension formerly prevalent among
philosophers, and the variety of schools, which
sufliciently show that the way was not well pre-
pared, that leads from the senses to the under-
standing, since the same groundwork of philoso-
phy (namely, the nature of things) was torn and
divided intosuch widely differing and multifarious
errors. And although, in these days, the dissen-
sions and differences of opinions with regard to
first principles and entire systems are nearly ex-
tinct, yet there remain innumerable questions and
controversies with regard to particular branches
of philosophy. So that it is manifest tl at there is
nothing sure or sound either in the systems them-
selves or in the methods of demonstration.
77. With regard to the supposition that there
is a general unanimity as to the philosophy of
Aristotle, because the other systems of the an-
cients ceased and became obsolete on its promul-
gation, and nothing better has been since dis-
covered; whence it appears that it is so well
determined and founded as to have united the
suffrages of both ages; we will observe — 1st.
That the notion of other ancient systems having
ceased after the publication of the works of Aris-
totle is false, for the works of the ancient philoso-
phers subsisted long after that event, ev.'n to the
time of Cicero and the subsequent ages. But at
a later period, when human learning had, as it
were, been wrecked in the inundation of bar-
barians into the Roman empire, then the sysiv^ms
of Aristotle and Plato were preserved in the wa>es
of ages, like blanks of a lighter and less solid
nature. 2d. The notion of unanimity on a clea*
inspection is found to be fallacious. For true
unanimity is that which proceeds from a free
judgment arriving at the same conclusion after
an investigation of the fact. Now, by far the
greater number of those who have assented to the
philosophy of Aristotle, have bound themselvcf*
down to it, from prejudice and the authority of
others, so that it is rather obsequiousness and
concurrence than unanimity. But even if it were
real and extensive unanimity, so far from beino
esteemed a true and solid confirmation, it should
lead to a violent presumption to the contrary. Foi
there is no worse augury in intellectual matth.H
than that derived from unanimity, with the ex-
356
NOVUM ORGANUM.
B okI.
reption of dvinity and politics, where suffrages
are allowed to decide. For nothing pleases the
multitude, unless it strike the imagination or bind
down the understanding, as we iiave observed
nbove, with the shackles of vulgar notions.
Hence we may well transfer Phocion's remark
from morals to the intellect : " That men should
immediately examine what error or fault they
have committed, when the multitude concurs with
and applauds them." This, then, is one of the
most unfavourable signs. All the signs, there-
fore, of the truth and soundness of the received
systems of philosophy and the sciences are un-
propitious, whether taken from their origin, their
fruits, their progress, the confessions of their
authors, or from unanimity.
78. We now come to the causes of errors,*
and of such perseverance in them for ages. These
are sufficiently numerous and powerful to remove
all wonder that what we now offer should have
so long been concealed from and have escaped
the notice of mankind, and to render it more
worthy of astonishment, that it should even now
have entered any one's mind or become the sub-
ject of his thoughts ; and that it should have done
so, we consider rather the gift of fortune than of
any extraordinary talent, and as the offspring of
time rather than wit. But, in the first place, the
number of ages is reduced to very narrow limits
on a proper consideration of the matter. For, out
nf twenty-five centuries, with which the memory
and learning of man are conversant, scarcely six
can be set apart and selected as fertile in science and
favourable in its progress. For there are deserts
and wastes in times as in countries, and we can
only reckon up three revolutions and epochs of
philosophy. 1. The Greek. 2. The Roman.
3. Our own, that is, the philosophy of the western
nations of Europe: and scarcely two centuries
can with justice be assigned to each. Tiie inter-
mediate ages of the world were unfortunate, both
in the quantity and richness of the sciences pro-
duced. Nor need we mention the Arabs or the
scholastic philosophy which, in those ages,
ground down the sciences by their numerous
treatises more than they increased their weight.
The first cause, then, of such insignificant pro-
gress in the sciences is rightly referred to the
small proportion of time which has been favour-
able thereto.
79. A second cause offers itself, which is
certainly of the greatest importance; namely,
that in those very ages in which men's wit, and
literature flourished considerably, or even mode-
rately, but a small part of their industry was
bestowed on natural philosophy, the great mother
of the sciences. For every art and science torn
from this root may, perhaps, be polished and put
■.oto a serviceable shape, but can admit of little
' ^f.e end o' Axiom (ii. This subject extends to Axiom 93.
growth. It is well known that after the Christian
religion had been acknowledged and arrived at
maturity, by far the best wits were busied upon
theology, where the highest lewards offered them-
selves, and every species of assistance was
abundantly supplied, and the study of which
was the principal occupation of the western
European nations during the third epoch; the
rather because literature flourished about the very
time when controversies concerning religion first
began to bud forth. 2. In the preceding ages,
during the second epoch, (that of the Romans,)
philosophical meditation and labour was chiefly
occupied and wasted in moral philosophy, (the
theology of the heathens :) besides, the greatest
minds in these times applied themselves to civil
affairs, on account of the magnitude of the Roman
empire, which required the labour of many. 3.
The age during which natural philosophy ap-
peared principally to flourish among the Greeks
was but a short period, since in the more ancient
times the seven sages (with the exception of
Thales) applied themselves to moral philosophy
and politics, and at a later period after Socrates
had brought down philosophy from heaven to
earth, moral philosophy became more prevalent,
and diverted men's attention from natural. Nay,
the very period during which physical inquiries
flourished, was corrupted and rendered useless by
contradictions and the ambition of new opinions.
Since, therefore, during these three epochs, natural
philosophy has been materially neglected or im-
peded, it is not at all surprising that men should
have made but little progress in it, seeing they
were attending to an entirely different matter.
80. Add to this that natural philosophy, espe-
cially of late, has seldom gained exclusive pos-
session of an individual free from all other pur-
suits, even amongst those who have applied them-
selves to it, unless there may be an example or
two of some monk studying in his cell, or some
nobleman in his villa. She has rather been made
a passage and bridge to other pursuits.
Thus has this great mother of the sciences been
degraded most unworthily to the situation of an
handmaid, and made to wait upon medicine or
mathematical operations, and to wash the imma-
ture minds of youth, and imbue them with a first
dye, that they may afterwards be more ready to
receive and retain another. In the mean time lei
no one expect any great progress in the sciences-,
(especially their operative part,) unless natural
philosophy be applied to particular sciences, and
particular sciences again referred back to natural
philosophy. For want of this, astronomy, optics,
music, many mechanical arts, medicine itself,
and (what perhaps is more wonderful) moral and
political philosophy, and the logical sciences have
no depth, but only glide over the surface and va-
riety of things; because these sciences, when
they have been once partitioned out and esta
lluOK I.
NOVUM OHGANUM.
367
olished, are no lon^rpr nourished by natural phi-
losophy, wliich would have imparted fresli vijrour
and jrrowth to them from the sources and genuine
contemplation of motion, rays, sounds, texture,
and coiitirmation of bodies, and the alfections ^nd
capacity of the understandintr. But we can little
wonder that the sciences grow not when separated
from their roots.
81. There is another powerful and great cause
of the little advancement of the sciences, which
is this: it is impossible to advance properly in
the course when the goal is not properly fixed.
l?ut the real and legitimate goal of the sciences
is the endowment of human life with new inven-
tions and riches. The great crowd of teachers
know nothing of this, but consist of dictatorial
hirelings: unless it so happen that some artisan
of an acute genius and ambitious of fame gives up
his time to a new discovery, which is generally
attended with a loss of property. The majority,
so far from proposing to tliemselves the augmen-
tation of the mass of arts and sciences, make no
other use of an inquiry into the mass already be-
fore them, than is afforded by the conversion of it
to some use in their lectures, or to gain, or to 'he
acquirement of a name and the like. But if one
out of the multitude he found, who courts science
from real zeal and on its own account, even he
will be seen rather to follow contemplation and
the variety of theories than a severe and strict in-
vestigation of truth. Again, if there even be an
unusually strict investigator of truth, yet will he
propose to himself as the test of truth the satisfac-
tion of his mind and understanding, as to the
causes of things long since known, and not such
a test as to lead to some new earnest of effects,
and a new light in axioms. If, therefore, no one
have laid down the real end of science, we cannot
wonder that there should be error in points subor-
dinate to that end.
82. But, in like manner as the end and goal of
science is ill defined, so, even were the case other-
wise, men have chosen an erroneous and impassa-
ble direction. For it is sufficient to astonish any
reflecting mind, that nobody should have cared or
wished to open and complete a way for the under-
standing, setting off from the senses, and regular,
well conducted experiment; but that every thing
has been abandoned either to the mists of tradi-
tion, the whirl and confusion of argument, or the
waves and mazes of chance, and desultory, ill- |
combined experiment. Now, let any one but con- j
gider soberly and diligently the nature of the path i
men have been accustomed to pursue in the in- |
vestigation and discovery of any matter, and he
will doubtless first observe the rude and inartifi-
cial manner of discovery most familiar to man-
kind: which is no other than this. When any
one prepares himself for discovery, he first in-
quires and obtains a full account of all that has
been said on the subject by others, then adds his
own reflections, and stirs up and, as it were, in-
vokes his own spirit, after much mental abour, to
disclose its oracles. All which is a method with-
out foundation and merely turns on opinion.
Another perhaps calls in logic to assist him in
discovery, which bears only a nominal relation to
his purpose. For the discoveries of logic are not
discoveries of principles and leading axioms, but
only of what appears to accord with them. And
when men become curious and importunate and
give trouble, interrupting her about her proofs and
the discovery of principles or first axioms, she
puts them off with her usual answer, referring
them to faith, and ordering them to swear allegi-
ance to each art in its own department.
There remains but mere experience, which
when it offers itself is called chance; when it is
sought after, experiment. But this kind of expe-
rience is nothing but a loose faggot, and mere
groping in the "dark, as men at night try all means
of discovering the right road, whilst it would be
better and more prudent either to wait for day or
procure a lightand then proceed. On the contrary
the real order of experience begins by setting up
a light, and then shows the road by it, commenc-
ing with a regulated and digested, not a mis-
placed and vague course of experiment, and
thrnce deducing axioms, and from those axioms
new experiments: for not even the Divine Woid
proceeded to operate on the general mass of thing>
without due order.
Let men therefore cease to wonder if the whole
course of science be not run, when all have wan-
dered from the path ; quitting entirely and desert-
ing experience, or involving themselves in its
mazes, and wandering about, whilst a regularly
combined system would lead them in a sure track
through its wilds to the open day of axioms.
83. The evil, however, has been wonderfully
increased by an opinion, or inveterate conceit,
which is both vainglorious and prejudicial, namely,
that the dignity of the human mind is lowered by
long and frequent intercourse with experiments
and particulars, which are the objects of sense and
confined to matter; especially since such matters
generally require labour in investijration, are mean
subjects for meditation, harsh in discourse, unpro-
ductive in practice, infinite in number, and deli-
cate in their subtilty. Hence we have seen the
true path not only deserted, but intercepted and
blocked up, experience being rejected with dis-
gust, and not merely neglected or improperly
applied.
84. Again, the reverence for antiquity and the
authority of men who have been esteemed great
in philosophy, and general unanimity, have re-
tarded men from advancing in science, and almost
enchanted them. As to unanimity, we have spo-
ken of it above.
The opinion which men cherish of antiquity is
altogether idle, and scarcely ..^cords with the
358
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book I.
term. For thu old age and increasing years of
the world should in reality be considered as anti-
quity, and this is rather the character of our own
times than of the less advanced age of the world
in those of the ancients. For the latter, with re-
spect to ourselves, are ancient and elder, with
respeot to the world, modern and younger. And
as we expect a greater knowledge of human affairs
and more mature judgment from an old man, than
from a youth, on account of his experience, and
the variety and number of things he has seen,
heard, and meditated upon; so we have reason to
expect much greater things of our own age, (if it
knew but its strength and would essay and exert
it,) than from antiquity, since the world has grown
older, and its stock has been increased and accu-
mulated with an infinite number of experiments
and observations. We must also take into our
consideration that many objects in nature fit to
throw light upon philosophy havf been exposed
to our view and discovered by means of long voy-
ages and travels, in which our times have abound-
ed. It would indeed be dishonourable to mankind,
if the regions of the material globe,'the earth, the
sea, and stars should be so prodigiously developed
and illustrated in our age, and yet the boundaries
of the intellectual globe should be confined to the
narrow discoveries of the ancients.
With regard to authority, it is the greatest
weakness to attribute infinite credit to particular
authors, and to refuse his own prerogative to time,
the author of all authors, and, therefore, of all
authority. For, truth is rightly named the daugh-
ter of time, not of authority. It is not wonderful,
therefore, if the bonds of antiquity, authority,
and unanimity, have so enchained the power of
man, that he is unable (as if bewitched) to be-
come familiar with things themselves.
85. Nor is it only the admiration of antiquity,
authority, and unanimity, that has forced man's
industry to rest satisfied with present discoveries,
but also the admiration of the effects already
placed within his power. For, whoever passes
in review the variety of subjects, and the beauti-
ful apparatus collected and introduced by the
mechanical arts for the service of mankind, will
certainly be rather inclined to admire our wealth
than to perceive our poverty ; not considering
that the observations of man and operations of
nature (which are the souls and first movers of
that variety) are few, and not of deep research ;
the rest must be attributed merely to man's pa-
tience and the delicate and well regulated motion
of the hand or of instruments. To take an in-
stance, the manufactory of clocks is delicate and
accurate, and appears to imitate the heavenly
bodies in its wheels, and the pulse of animals in
its regular oscillation, yet it only depends upon
v/ne or two axioms of nature.
Again, if one consider the refinement of the
liberal arts, or even that exhibited in the prepara-
tion of natural bodies in mechanical arts and the
like; as the discovery of the heavenly motions in
astronomy, of harmony in music, of the letters
of the alphabet (still unadopted by the Chinese)
in grammar; or, again, in mechanical operations,
the productions of Bacchus and Ceres, that is,
the preparation of wine and beer, the making of
bread, or even the luxuries of the table, distilla-
tion, and the like; if one reflect also and consider
for how long a period of ages (for all tlie above,
except distillation, are ancient) these things have
been brought to their present stale of perfection,
and, as we instanced in clocks, to how few obser-
vations and axioms of nature they may be refer-
red, and how easily, and, as it were, by obvious
chance or contemplation they might be discovered,
one would soon cease to admire and rather pity
the human lot, on account of its vast want and
dearth of things and discoveries for so many
ages. "Yet, even the discoveries we have men-
tioned were more ancient than philosophy, and
the intellectual arts ; so that, to say the truth,
when contemplation and doctrinal science began,
the discovery of useful works ceased.
But if any one turn from the manufactories to
libraries, and be inclined to admire the immense
variety of books offered to our view, let him but
examine and diligently inspect the matter and
contents of these books, and his astonishment
will certainly change its object : for when he finds
no end of repetitions, and how much men do and
speak the same thing over again, he will pass
from admiration of this variety to astonishment
at the poverty and scarcity of matter, which has
hitherto possessed and filled men's minds.
But if any one should condescend to consider
such sciences as are deemed rather curious than
sound, and take a full view of the operations of the
alchymists or magi, he will perhaps hesitate whe-
ther he ought rather to laugh or to weep. For the
alchymist cherishes eternal hope, and when his
labours succeed not, accuses his own mistakes,
deeming, in his self-accusation, that he has not
properly understood the words of art, or of his
authors ; upon which he listens to tradition and
vague whispers, or imagines there is some slight
unsteadiness in the minute details of his practice,
and then has recourse to an endless repetition of
experiments : and, in the mean time, when in his
casual experiments he falls upon something in
appearance new, or of some degree of utility, he
consoles himself with such an earnest, and osten-
tatiously publishes them, keeping up his hope of
the final result. Nor can it be denied that the
alchymists have made several discoveries, and
presented mankind with useful inventions. But
we may well apply to them the fable of the old
man, who bequeathed to his sons some gold
buried in his garden, pretending not to know th«
exact spot, whereupon they worked diliijently in
digging the vineyard, and though they found no
Book I.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
859
gold, the vintafre was rendered more abundant
by their labour.
The followers of natural magic, who explain
every thing by sympathy and antipathy, have
assigned false powers and marvellous operations
to things, by gratuitous and idle conjectures : and
if they have ever produced any effects, they are
rather wonderful and novel than of any real bene-
fit or utility.
In superstitious magic, (if we say any thing at
all about it,) we must chiefly observe, that there
are only some peculiar and definite objects with
which the curious and superstitious arts have in
every nation and age, and even under every reli-
gion, been able to exercise and amuse themselves.
Let us, therefore, pass them over. In the mean
time we cannot wonder that the false notion of
plenty should have occasioned want.
80. The admiration of mankind with regard to
the arts and sciences, which is of itself sufficiently
simple and almost puerile, has been increased by
the craft and artifices of those who have treated
the sciences and delivered them down to pos-
terity. For they propose and produce them to
our view so fashioned, and as it were masked, as
to make them pass for perfect and complete. For,
if you consider their method and divisions, they
appear to embrace and comprise every thing which
can relate to the subject. And although this frame
be badly filled up, and resemble an empty bladder,
yet it presents to the vulgar understanding the
form and appearance of a perfect science.
The first and most ancient investigators of
truth M-ere wont, on the contrary, with more
honesty and success, to throw all the knowledge
they wished to gather from contemplation, and to
lay up for use, into aphorisms, or short, scattered
sentences, unconnected by any method, and with-
out pretending or professing to comprehend any
entire art. But, according to the present system,
we cannot wonder that men seek nothing beyond
that which is handed down to them as perfect,
and already extended to its full complement.
87. The ancient theories have received addi-
tional support and credit, from the absurdity and
levity of those who have promoted the new,
especially in the active and practical part of natu-
ral philosophy. For there have been many sillv
and fantastical fellows who, from crrdulity or
imposture, have loaded mankind with promises,
announcing and boasting of the prolongation of
life, the retarding of old age, the alleviation of
pains, the remedying of natural defects, the de-
ception of the senses, the restraint, and excitement
of the passions, the illumination and exaltation of
the intellectual faculties, the transmutation of sub-
stances, the unlimited intensity and multiplication
of motion, the impressions and changes of the
lir, the bringing into our power the management
of celestial influences, the divination of future
e'/ents, the representation of distant objects, the
revelation of hidden objects and the like. One
would not be very wrong in observing, with regard
to such pretenders, that there is as much differ-
ence in philosophy, between their absurdity and
real science, as there is in history between the
exploits of Caesar or Alexander, and those of
Amadis de Gaul and Arthur of Britain. For
those illustrious generals are found to have actu-
ally performed greater exploits, than such ficti-
tious heroes are even pretended to have accom-
plished, by the means, however, of real action,
and not by any fabulous and portentous power.
Yet it is not right to suffer our belief in true his-
tory to be diminished, because it is sometimes
injured and violated by fables. In the mean time
we cannot wonder that great prejudice has been
excited against any new propositions (especially
when coupled with any mention of effects to be
produced) by the conduct of impostors who have
made a similar attempt, for their extreme ab-
surdity and the disgust occasioned by it, has even
to this day overpowered every spirited attempt of
the kind.
88. Want of energ}s and the littleness and
futility of the tasks that human industry has un-
dertaken, have produced much greater injury to
the sciences : and yet (to make it still worse) that
very want of energy manifests itself in conjunc-
tion with arrogance and disdain.
For, in the first place, one excuse, now from its
repetition become familiar, is to be observed in
every art, namely, that its promoters convert the
weakness of the art itself into a calumny u))on
nature: and whatever it in their hands fails to
effect, they pronounce to be physically impossi-
ble. But how can the art ever be condemned,
whilst it acts as judge in its own cause 1 Even
the present system of philosophy cherishes in its
bosom certain positions or dogmas, which (it will
be found on diligent inquiry) are calculated to
produce a full conviction that no diflicult, com-
manding, and powerful operation upon nature,
ought to be anticipated through the means of art;
we instanced* above, the alleged different quality
of heat in the sun and fire, and composition and
mixture. Upon an accurate observation, the
whole tendency of such positions is wilfully to
circumscribe man's power, and to produce a de-
spair of the means of invention and contrivance,
which would not only confound the promises of
hope, but cut the very springs and sinews of in-
dustry, and throw aside even the chances of expe-
rience. The only object of such philosophers is,
to acquire the reputation of perfection for their
own art, and they are anxious to obtain the most
silly and abandoned renown, by causing a belief
that whatever has not yet been invented and ur
derstood, can never be so hereafter. But if any
one attempt to give himself up to things, and to
* See Axiom 75.
360
NOVUM ORGAN UM.
Rook T.
discover something new, yet he will only propose
Mid destine for his object, the investigation and
discovery of some one invention, and nothing
more ; as the nature of the magnet, the tides, the
heavenly system and the like, which appear en-
veloped in some degree of mystery, and have
hitherto been treated with but little success.
Now, it is the greatest proof of want of skill, to
investigate the nature of any object in itself alone;
for that same nature, which seems concealed and
hidden in some instances, is manifest and almost
palpable in others; and excites wonder in the
former, whilst it hardly attracts attention in the
latter. Thus the nature of consistency is scarcely
observed in wood or stone, but passed over by the
term solid, without any further inquiry about the
repulsion of separation, or the solution of con-
tinuity. But in water-bubbles the same circum-
stance appears matter of delicate and ingenious
research, for they form themselves into thin pelli-
cles, curiously shaped into hemispheres, so as for
an instant to avoid the solution of continuity.
In general, those very things which are consi-
dered as secret, are manifest and common in other
objects, but will never be clearly seen if the ex-
periments and contemplation of man be directed
to themselves only. Yet it commonly happens,
that if, in the mechanical arts, any one bring old
discoveries to a finer polish, or more elegant
height of ornament, or unite and compound them,
or apply them more readily to practice, or exhibit
them on a less heavy and voluminous scale, and
the like, they will pass off as new.
We cannot, therefore, wonder that no magnifi-
cent discoveries, worthy of mankind, have been
brought to light, whilst men are satisfied and de-
lighted with such scanty and puerile tasks, nay,
even think that they have pursued or attained
some great object in their accomplishment.
89. Nor should we neglect to observe that na-
tural philosophy has, in every age, met with a
troublesome and difl[icult opponent: I mean su-
perstition, and a blind and immoderate zeal for
religion. For we see that among the Greeks
those who first disclosed the natural causes of
thunder and storms to the yet untrained ears of
man, were condemned as guilty of impiety to-
wards the gods. Nor did some of the old fathers
of Christianity treat those much better who show-
ed by the most positive proofs (such as no one
now disputes) that the earth is spherical, and
thence asserted that there were antipodes.
Even in the present state of things, the condi-
tion of discussions on natural philosophy is ren-
dered more difficult and dangerous by the sum-
maries and methods of divines, who, after reducing
divinity into such order as they could, and brought
it into a scientific form, have proceeded to mingle
an undue proportion of the contentious and thorny
philosophy of Aristotle with the substance of re-
ligion ,
The fictions of those who have not feared to
deduce and confirm the truth of the Christian re-
ligion by the principles and authority of philoso-
phers, tend to the same end, though in a different
manner. They celebrate the union of faith and
the senses as though it were legitimate, with
great pomp and solemnity, and gratify men's
pleasing minds with a variety, but, in the mean
time, confound most improperly things divine and
human. Moreover, in these mixtures of divinity
and philosophy, the received doctrines of the lat-
ter are alone included, and any novelty, even
though it be an improvement, scarcely escapes
banishment and extermination.
In short, you may find all access to any species
of philosophy, however pure, intercepted by the
ignorance of divines. Some, in their simplicity,
are apprehensive that a too deep inquiry into na-
ture may penetrate beyond the proper bounds of
decorum, transferring and absurdly applying what
is said of sacred mysteries in holy writ against
those who pry into divine secrets, to the myste-
ries of nature, which are not forbidden by any
prohibition. Others, with more cunning, imagine
and consider that if secondary causes be unknown,
every thing may more easily be referred to the
divine hand and wand ; a matter, as they think,
of the greatest consequence to religion, but which
can only really mean that God wishes to be grati-
fied by means of falsehood. Others fear from
past example, lest motion and change in philoso-
phy should terminate in an attack upon religion.
Lastly, there are others who appear anxious lest
there should be something discovered in the in-
vestigation of nature to overthrow, or at least
shake religion, particularly among the unlearn-
ed. The two last apprehensions appear to resem-
ble animal instinct, as if men were diffident, in
the bottom of their minds, and secret meditations,
of the strength of religion, and the empire of
faith over the senses ; and therefore feared that
some danger awaited them from an inquiry into
nature. But any one who properly considers the
subject, will find natural philosophy to be, after
the word of God, the surest remedy against su-
perstition, and the most approved support of faith.
She is therefore rightly bestowed upon religion
as a most faithful attendant, for the one exhibits
the will and the other the power of God. Nor
was he wrong who observed, " Ye err, not
knowing the Scriptures and the power of God ;"
thus uniting in one bond the revelation of his
will, and the contemplation of his power. In the
mean while it is not wonderful that the progress
of natural philosophy has been restrained, since
religion, which has so much influence on men's
minds, has been led and hurried to oppose her
through the ignorance of some and the imprudent
zeal of others.
90. Again, in the habits and regulations of
schools, universities, and the like assemblies, da-
Book
NOVUM ORGANUM.
sai
Btined for the abode of learned men, and the im-
provement of learning, every thing is found to be
opposed to the progress of the sciences. For the
lectures and exercises are so ordered, that any
thing out of the common track can scarcely enter
the thoughts and contemplations of the mind. If,
however, one or two have perhaps dared to use
their liberty, they can only impose the labour on
themselves, without deriving any advantage from
the association of others : and if they put up with
this, they will find their industry and spirit of no
slight disadvantage to them in making their for-
tune. For the pursuits of men in such situations
are, as it were, chained down to the writings of
particular authors, and if any one dare to dissent
from them, he is immediately attacked as a turbu-
lent and revolutionary spirit. Yet how great is
the difference between civil matters and the arts;
for there is not the same danger from new activity
and new light. In civil matters even a change
for the better is suspected on account of the com-
motion it occasions ; for civil government is sup-
ported by authority, unanimity, fame, and public
opinion, and not by demonstration. In the arts
and sciences, on the contrary, every department
should resound, as in mines, with new works
and advances. And this is the rational, though
not the actual view of the case : for that adminis-
tration and government of science we have spoken
of, is wont too rigorously to repress its grovv-th.
91. And even should the odium I have alluded
to be avoided, yet it is sufficient to repress the
increase of science that such attempts and indus-
try was unrewarded. For the cultivation of
science and its reward belong not to the same
individual. The advancement of science is the
work of a powerful genius, the prize and reward
belong to the vulgar or to princes, who (with a
few exceptions) are scarcely moderately well
informed. Nay, such progress is not only de-
prived of the rewards and beneficence of indivi-
duals, but even of popular praise : for it is above
the reach of the generality, and easily over-
wh-elmed and extinguished by the winds of com-
mon opinions. It is not wonderful, therefore,
that little success has attended that which has
been little honoured.
92. But by far the greatest obstacle to the
advancement of the sciences and the undertaking
of any new attempt or department is to be found
in men's despair and the idea of impossibility.
For men of a prudent and exact turn of thought
are altogether diffident in matters of this nature,
considering the obscurity of nature, and the short-
ness of life, the deception of the senses, and
weakness of the judgment. They think, there-
fore, that in the revolutions of ages and of the
world there are certain floods and ebbs of the
sciences, and that they grow and flourish at one
time, and wither and fall off at another, thai
Vol. III.— 46
when they have attained a certain degree and
condition they can proceed no further.
If, therefore, any one believe or promise greater
things, they impute it to an uncurbed and imma-
ture mind, and imagine that such eflorts begin
pleasantly, then become laborious, and end in
confusion. And since such thoughts easily enter
the minds of men of dignity and excellent judg.
ment, we must really take heed lest we should be
captivated by our affection for an excellent and
most beautiful object, and relax or diminish the
severity of our judgment ! and we must diligently
examine what gleam of hope shines upon us, and
in what direction it manitests itself, so that, banish-
ing her lighter dreams, we may discuss and weigh
whatever appears of more sound importance. We
must consult the prudence of ordinary life, too,
which is diffident upon principle, and in all hu-
man matters augurs tlie worst. Let us then
speak of hope, especially as we are not vain pro-
misers, nor are willing to force or ensnare men's
judgment, but would rather lead them willingly
forward. And, although we shall employ the
most cogent means of enforcing hope when we
bring them to particulars, and especially those
which are digested and arranged in our Tables of
Invention, (the subject partly of the second, but
principally of the fourth part of the Instauration,)
which are indeed rather the very object of our
hopes than hope itself; -yet to proceed more leni-
ently, we must treat of the preparation of men's
minds, of which the manifestation of hope forms
no slight part. For, without it, all that we have
said tends rather to produce a gloom than to en-
courage activity or quicken the industry of expe-
riment, by causing them to have a worse and
more contemptuous opinion of things as they are
than they now entertain, and to perceive and feel
more thoroughly their unfortunate condition. We
must therefore disclose and prefix our reasons for
not thinking the hope of success improbable, as
Columbus before his wonderful voyage over the
Atlantic gave the reasons of his conviction that
new lands and continents might be discovered
besides those already known. And these reasons
though at first rejected, were yet proved by sub-
sequent experience, and were the causes and
beginnings of the greatest events.
93. Let us begin from God, and show that our
pursuit from its exceeding goodness clearly pro-
ceeds from him, the Author of good and P'ather
of light. Now, in all divine works, the smallest
beginnings lead assuredly to some result, and the
remark in spiritual matters that "The kingdom
I of God Cometh without observation," is also found
I to be true in every great work of divine Provi-
dence; so that every thing glides quietly on
I without confusion or noise, and the matter is
' achieved before men either think or perceive that
It is commenced. Nor should ^ve neglect to
2H
a62
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book
rnention the prophecy of Daniel of the last days
of the world,* "Many shall run to and fro and
knowledge shall be increased," thus plainly hint-
ing and suggesting that Fate (which is Pro-
vidence) would cause the complete circuit of
f.he globe, (now accomplished, or at least going
forward by means of so many distant voyages,)
and the increase of learning, to happen at the
same epoch.
94. Wej" will next give a most potent reason
for hope deduced from the errors of the past, and
the ways still unattempted. For well was an ill
governed state thus reproved,^: "That which is
worst with regard to the past, should appear most
consolatory for the future. For if you had done
all that your duty commanded, and your affairs
proceeded no better, you could not even hope for
their improvement; but since their present unhap-
py situation is not owing to the force of circum-
stances, but to your own errors, you have reason
to hope, that by banishing or correcting the latter,
you can produce a great change for the better in
the former." So, if men had, during the many
years that have elapsed, adhered to the right way
of discovering and cultivating the sciences with-
out being able to advance, it would be assuredly
bold and presumptuous to imagine it possible to
improve; but if they have mistaken the way and
wasted their labour on improper objects, it fol-
lows that the difficulty does not arise from things
themselves, which are not in our power, but from
the human understanding, its practice and appli-
cation, which is susceptible of remedy and cor-
rection. Our best plan, therefore, is to expose
these errors. For, in proportion as they impeded
the past, so do they afford reason to hope for the
future. And although we have touched upon
them above, yet we think it right to give a brief,
bare, and simple enumeration of them in this
place.
95. Those who have treated of the sciences
have been either empirics or dogmatical. The
former like ants only heap up and use their store,
the latter like spiders spin out their own webs.
The bee, a mean between both, extracts matter
from the flowers of the garden and the field, but
works and fashions it by its own efforts. The
true labour of philosophy resembles hers, for it
neither relies entirely or principally on the pow-
ers of the mind, nor yet lays up in the memory,
tlie matter afforded by the experiments of natural
history or mechanics in its raw state, but changes
• Daniel, c. xii. ver. 4.
t Hence to Aphorism 108 treats of the grounds of hope to
Ue derived from correctinc; former errors.
; See Deinoslheiies's 3d Philippic near the beginning,
••o x-'PT"" £" ^oi; iraf^c\ri\v^6(ti, rovro vpo; ra ficWovra
d'-X-^iTov virapKti. Ti ovv i~\ rnvro; ort ovre puKpiv, ovrt
l^iya ov6iv roji/ 6e6vTij}ii TToiuvvToif vijio>t>. ffaKus ra Ttpayixara
f.XCf i*eirotye ci TfdvS'S irpnaiiKCt irpaTrdvroii' viiwi', ovra>
fuKCiTo ov6 av cXirlf iji' dvTct yevefrdai /JeXrito, vvv Si rrji
uii- fiaivyiiai ri)> vfierepai. ical rijj djieXeias KCKpoLTriKS't'iXiir-
.ji, rijf Tr6X:v( (5'oi KCKparriKev.
I and works it in the understanding. We have
! good reason, therefore, to derive hope from a
' closer and purer alliance of these faculties, (the
i experimental and rational) than has yet been
attempted.
96. Natural philosophy is not yet to be found
unadulterated, but is impure and corrupted; by
logic in the school of Aristotle, by natural theo-
logy in that of Plato, by mathematics in the
second school of Plato, (that of Proclus and
others,) which ought rather to terminate natural
philosophy than to generate or create it. We
may, therefore, hope for better results from pure
and unmixed natural philosophy.
97. No one has yet been found possessed of
sufficient firmness and severity, to resolve upon
and undertake the task of entirely abolishing
common theories and notions, and applying the
mind afresh, when thus cleared and levelled, to
particular researches. Hence our human reason-
ing is a mere farrago and crude mass, made up
of a great deal of credulity and accident, and the
puerile notions it originally contracted.
Butif a man of mature age, unprejudiced senses,
and clear mind, would betake himself anew to
experience and particulars, we might hope much
more from such a one. In which respect we
promise ourselves the fortune of Alexander the
Great, and let none accuse us of vanity till they
have heard the tale, which is intended to check
vanity.
For jEschines spoke thus of Alexander and
his exploits : " We live not the life of mortals,
but are born at such a period that posterity will
relate and declare our prodigies." As if he con-
sidered the exploits of Alexander to be miraculous.
But in succeeding ages* Livy took a better
view of the fact, and has made some such observa-
tion as this upon Alexander: "That he did no
more than dare to despise insignificance." So in
our opinion posterity will judge of us, "That we
have achieved no great matters, but only set less
account upon what is considered important."
For the mean time (as we have before observed)
our only hope is in the regeneration of the
sciences, by regularly raising them on the founda-
tion of experience and building them anew, which
I think none can venture to affirm to have been
already done or even thought of.
98. The foundations of experience (our sole
resource) have hitherto failed completely or have
been very weak ; nor has a store and a collection
of particular facts capable of informing the mind
or in any way satisfactory, been either sought
after or amassed. On the contrary, learned, but
* Pee Livy, lib. x. c. 17, where in a digression on the pro-
b:ible effect of a contest between Rome and Alexander ihe
Great, he says: " Non cnm Uario rem esse dixisset : quern
niulierum ac spadonum agmen trahenteni inter piirpuram
atque aurum, oneratuni fortunte apparatibus, priedam veriOi
qiiam hostem, nihil aliud quam auaus vana conttmnere, tncru
entud devicit."
Book I.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
8G3
idle and indolent men received some mere reports
of experience, traditions, as it were, of dreams, as
establishing or confirming their philosophy ; and
have not hesitated to allow them the weight of
legitimate evidence. So that a system has been
pursued in philosophy with regard to experience,
resembling that of a kingdom or state which
would direct its councils and affairs according to
the gossip of city and street politicians, instead
of the letters and reports of ambassadors and mes-
sengers worthy of credit. Nothing is rightly
inquired into, or verified, noted, weighed, or mea-
sured, in natural liistory. Indefinite and vague
observation produces fallacious and uncertain in-
formation. If this appear strange or our com-
plaint somewhat too unjust, (because Aristotle
himself, so distinguished a man, and supported by
the wealth of so great a king, has completed an
accurate history of animals, to which others with
greater diligence but less noise have made con-
siderable additions, and others again have com-
posed copious histories and notices of plants,
metals, and fossils,) it will arise from a want of
sufficiently attending to and comprehending our
present observations. For a natural history com-
piled on its own account, and one collected for
the mind's information as a foundation for philoso-
phy, are two difierent things. They differ in
several respects, but principally in this; the
former contains only the varieties of natural spe-
cies without the experiments of mechanical arts.
For as in ordinary life every person's disposition,
and the concealed feelings of the mind and
passions are most drawn out when they are dis-
turbed ; so the secrets of nature betray themselves
more readily when tormented by art, than when
left to their own course. We must begin, there-
fore, to entertain hopes of natural philosophy then
only, when we have a better compilation of natural
history, its real basis and support.
99. Again, even in the abundance of mechanical
experiments there is a very great scarcity of those
which best inform and assist the understanding.
For the mechanic, little solicitous about the in-
vestigation of truth, neither directs his attention
nor applies his hand to any thing that is not of
service to his business. But our hope of further
progress in the sciepces will then only be well
founded, when numerous experiments shall be
received and collected into natural history, which,
though of no use in themselves, assist materially
in the discovery of causes and axioms: which
experiments we have termed enlightening, to
distinguish them from those which are profitable.
They possess this wonderful property and nature,
that ihey never deceive or fail you, for, being used
only to discover the natural cause of some object,
whatever be the result, they equally satisfy your
aim by deciding the question.
100. We must not only search for and procure
a greater number of experiments, but also intro-
duce a completely d.fTerent method, order, and
progress of continuinij and promoting experience
For vague and arbitrary experience is (as we
have observed) mere groping in the dark, and
rather astonishes than instructs. But when ex-
perience shall proceed regularly and uninterrupt-
edly by a det(!rmined rule, we may entertain
better hopes of the sciences.
101. But after having collected and prepared
an abundance and store of natural history, and
of the experience required for the operations of
the understanding, or philosophy ; still the un
derslanding is as capable of acting on such ma-
terials of itself with the aid of memory alone,
as any person would be of retaining and achiev-
ing by memory the computation of an almanac.
Yet meditation has hitherto done more for disco-
very than writing, and no experiments have been
committed to paper. We cannot, however, ap-
prove of any mode of discovery without writing,
and when that comes into more general use we
may have further hopes.
102. Besides this, there is such a multitude and
host as it were of particular objects, and lying so
widely dispersed, as to distract and confuse the
understanding ; and we can therefore hope for no
advantage from its skirmishing, and quick move-
ments and incursions, unless we put its forces in
due order and array by means of proper, and well
arranged, and as it were living tables of discove-
ry of these matters which are the subject of in-
vestigation, and the mind then apply itself to the
ready prepared and digested aid which such ta-
bles afford.
103. W'hen we have thus properly and regu-
larly placed before the eyes a collection of parti-
culars, we must not immediately proceed to the
investigation and discovery of new particulars or
effects, or, at least, if we do so, must not rest sa-
tisfied therewith. For, though we do not deny
that by transferring the experiments from one art
to another, (when all the experiments of each have
been collected and arranged, and have been ac-
quired by the knowledge and subjected to the
judgment of a single individual,) many new ex-
periments may be discovered, tending to benefit
society and mankind, by what we term literate
experience ,- yet comparatively insignificant results
are to be expected thence, whilst the more im-
portant are to be derived from tne new light o*'
axioms, deduced by certain method and rule from
the above particulars, and pointing out and de-
fining new particulars in their turn. Our road is
not along a plain, but rises and falls, ascending
to axioms and descending to effects.
104. Nor can we suffer the understanding to
jump and fly from particulars to remote and most
general axioms, (such as are termed the princi-
ples of arts and things,) and thus prove and maku
out their intermediate axioms according to the
supposed unshaken truth of the former. This
S64
NOVUM ORGAN UM.
Book I.
howevei, has always been done to the present
time from the natural bent of the understanding,
educated, too, and accustomed to this very method
by the syllogistic mode of demonstration. But
we can then only augur well for the sciences,
when the ascent shall proceed by a true scale and
successive steps, without interruption or breach,
from particulars to the lesser axioms, thence to
the intermediate, (rising one above the other,) and
lastly to the most general. For the lowest axi-
oms differ but little from bare experiment, the
highest and most general (as they are esteemed
at present) are notional, abstract, and of no real
weight. The intermediate are true, solid, full of
life, and upon them depend the business and for-
tune of mankind ; beyond these are the really ge-
neral, but not abstract, axioms, which are truly
limited by the intermediate.
We must not then add wings, but rather lead
and ballast to the understanding, to prevent its
jumping or flying, which has not yet been done ;
but whenever this takes place we may entertain
greater hopes of the sciences.
105. In forming axioms, we must invent a dif-
ferent form of induction from that hitherto in use ;
not only for the proof and discovery of principles,
(as they are called,) but also of minor intermedi-
ate, and in short every kind of axioms. The in-
duction which proceeds by simple enumeration is
puerile, leads to uncertain conclusions, and is ex-
posed to danger from one contradictory instance,
deciding generally from too small a number of
facts, and those only the most obvious. But a
really useful induction for the discovery and de-
monstration of the arts and sciences should sepa-
rate nature by proper rejections and exclusions,
and then conclude for the affirmative, after collect-
ing a sufficient number of negatives. Now, this
has not been done, or even attempted, except per-
haps by Plato, who certainly uses this form of
induction in some measure, to sift definitions and
ideas. But much of what has never yet entered
the thoughts of man, must necessarily be em-
ployed in order to exhibit a good and legitimate
mode of induction, or demonstration ; so as even
to render it essential for us to bestow more pains
upon it than have hitherto been bestowed on
Byllogisms. The assistance of induction is to
serve us not only in the discovery of axioms, but
also in defining our notions. Much indeed is to
be hoped fr'^m such an induction as has been de-
scribed.
106. Ill forming our axioms from induction, we
must examine and try, whether the axiom we de-
live, be only fitted and calculated for the particu-
lar instances from which it is deduced, or whether
it be more extensive and general. If it be the
JatUir, we must observe, whether it confirm its
own extent and generality, by giving surety, as it
were, in pointing out new particulars, so that we
may neither stop at actual discoveries, nor with a
careless grasp catch at "shadows and abstract
forms, instead of substances of a determinate
nature ; and as soon as we act thus, well author-
ized hopes may with reason be said to beam
upon us.
107. Here, too, we may again repeat what we
have said above, concerning the extending of
natural philosophy, and reducing particular sci-
ences to that one, so as to prevent any schism or
dismembering of the sciences; without which we
cannot hope to advance.
108. Such are the observations we would make,
in order to remove despair and excite hope, by
bidding farewell to the errors of past ages, or by
their correction. Let us examine whether there
be other grounds for hope. And, first, if many
useful discoveries have occurred to mankind by
chance or opportunity, without investigation or
attention on their part, it must necessarily be
acknowledged that much more may be brought to
light by investigation and attention, if it be regu-
lar and orderly, not hasty and interrupted. For,
although it may now and then happen that one
falls by chance upon something that had before
escaped considerable efforts and laborious in-
quiries, yet, undoubtedly, the reverse is generally
the case. We may, therefore, hope for further,
better, and more frequent results from man's rea-
son, industry, method, and application, than from
chance and mere animal instinct, and the like,
which have hitherto been the sources of invention.
109. We may also derive some reason for hope,
from the circumstance of several actual inventions
being of such a nature, that scarcely any one
could have formed a conjecture about them, pre-
viously to their discovery, but would rather have
ridiculed them as impossible. For men are wont
to guess about new subjects, from those they are
already acquainted with, and the hasty and
vitiated fancies they have thence formed : than
which there cannot be a more fallacious mode of
reasoning, because much of that which is derived
from the sources of things, does not flow in their
usual channel. If, for instance, before the dis-
covery of cannon, one had described its effects in
the following manner: "There is a new inven-
tion, by which walls and the greatest bulwarks
can be shaken and overthrown from a considerable
distance," men would have begun to contrive va-
rious means of multiplying the force of projectiles
and maciiines, by means of weights and wheels,
and other modes of battering and projecting. But
it is improbable that any imagination or fancy
would have hit upon a fiery blast expanding and
developing itself so suddenly and violently, be-
cause none would have seen an instance at all
resembling it, except perhaps in earthquakes or
thunder, which they would have immediately re-
jected as the great operations of nature, not to be
imitated by man.
So if, before the discovery of silk thread, any
Book I.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
365
one had observed, "that a species of thread had
been disrovered, fit for dresses and furniture, far
surpassing the thread of worsted or flax in fine-
ness, and at the same time in tenacity, beauty,
and softness," men would have begun to imagine
somelhinor about Chinese plants, or the fine hair
of some animals, or the feathers or down of birds,
but certainly would never have had an idea of its
being spun by a small worm, in so copious a
manner, and renewed annually. But if any one
had ventured to suggest the silk worm, he would
have been laughed at, as if dreaming of some new
manufacture from spiders.
So, again, if before the discovery of the com-
pass, any one had said, "that an instrument had
been invented, by which the quarters and points
of the heavens could be exactly taken and distin-
guished," men would have entered into disquisi-
tions on the refinement of astronomical instru-
ments, and the like, from the excitement of their
imaginations; but the thought of any thing being
discovered, which not being a celestial body, but
a mere mineral or metallic substance, should yet
in its motion agree with that of such bodies,
would have appeared absolutely incredible. Yet
were these facts, and the like (unknown for so
many ages) not discovered at last, either by
philosophy or reasoning, but by chance and op-
portunity; and (as we have observed) they are
of a nature most heterogeneous, and remote from
what was hitherto known, so that no previous
knowledge could lead to them.
We* may, therefore, well hope that many ex-
cellent and useful matters are yet treasured up in
the bosom of nature, bearing no relation or ana-
logy to our actual discoveries, but out of the
common track of our imagination, and still un-
discovered ; and which will doubtless be brought
to light in the course and lapse of years, as the
others have been before them ; but in the way we
now point out, they may rapidly and at once be
both represented and anticipated.
110. There are moreover some inventions which
render it probable that men may pass and hurry
over the most noble discoveries which lie imme-
diately before them. For, however the discovery
of gunpowder, silk, the compass, sugar, paper, or
the like, may appear to depend on peculiar pro-
perties of things and nature, printing at least in-
volves no contrivance which is not clear and
almost obvious. But from want of observing
that although the arrangement of the types of let-
ters required more trouble than writing with the
hand, yet these types once arranged serve for
innumerable impressions, whilst manuscript only
• This hope has bpen abiitidnntly realized in the disrovery
of gravity, and the deciinniosition of light, strictly by the in-
ductive method. To a belter philosophy, we may also attri-
bute the discovery of electricity, galvanism, and their mu-
tual connexion with each other, and m<iirnetisni, the inven-
tions of the air pump, steam engine, chronometer, &.c.
affords one copy ; and again, from want of ob
serving that ink might be thickened so as to stain
without running, (which was necessary, seeing
the letters face upwards, and the impression is
made from above,) this most beautiful invention
(which assists so materially the propagation of
learning) remained unknown for so many ages.
The human mind is often so awkward and ill
regulated in the career of invention, that it is at
first diffident, and then despises itself. For it
appears at first incredible that any such discovery
should be made, and when it has been made, it
appears incredible that it should so long have
escaped men's research. All which affords good
reason for the hope that avast mass of in.entions
yet remains, which may be deduced not only from
the investigation of new modes of operation, but
also from transferring, comparing, and applying
these already known, by the method of what we
have termed literate experience.
111. Nor should we omit another ground of
hope. Let men only consider (if they will) their
infinite expenditure of talent, time, and fortune,
in matters and studies of far inferior importance
and value : a small portion of which applied to
sound and solid learning would be sufficient to
overcome every difficulty. And we have thought
right to add this observation, because we candidly
own that such a collection of natural and experi-
mental history as we have traced in our own mind,
and as is really necessary, is a great, and, as it
were, royal work, requiring much labour and
expense.
112. In the mean time, let no one be alarmed
at the multitude of particulars, but ratlier inclined
to hope on that very account. For the particular
phenomena of the arts and nature are in reality
but as a handful, when compared with the fi^^tions
of the imagination, removed and separated from
the evidence of facts. The termination ol our
method is clear, and I had almost said, neai" at
hand ; the other admits of no termination, but only
of infinite confusion. For men have hitherto
dwelt but little, or rather only slightly touched
upon experience, wliilst they have wasted much
time on theories and the fictions of the imagina-
tion. If we had but any one who could actually
answer our interrogations of nature, the invention
of all causes and sciences would be the labour of
but a few years.
113. We think some ground of hope is aflTorded
by our own example, which is not mentioned for
the sake of boasting, but as a useful remark. Let
those who distrust their own powers observe my-
self, one who have amongst my contemporaries
been the most engaged in public business, who
am not very strong in health, (which causes a
greatlossof time,)and am the first explorer of this
course, following the guidance of none, nor even
communicating my thoughts to a sinsile indivi
dual ; yet having once firmly enterea in the ri^ibt
2h£ '
360
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book I.
way, and submitting the powers of my mind to
things. I hav*! somewhat advanced (as I make
bold to thinkj the matter I now treat of. Then
let others consider what may be hoped from men
who enjoy abundant leisure, from united labours,
and the succession of ages, after these sugges-
tions on our part, especially in a course which is
not confined, like theories, to individuals, but
admits of the best distribution and union of labour
and effect, particularly in collecting experiments.
For men will then only begin to know their own
power, when each performs a separate part, instead
of undertaking in crowds the same work.
114. Lastly, though a much more faint and
uncertain breeze of hope were to spring up from
our new continent, yet we consider it necessary
to make the experiment, if we would not show a
dastard spirit. For the risk attending want of
success is not to be compared with that of neglect-
ing the attempt; the former is attended with the
loss of a littte human labour, the latter with that
of an immense benefit. For these and other rea-
sons, it appears to us that there is abundant ground
to hope, and to induce not only those who are
sanguine to make experiment, but even those who
are cautious and sober to give their assent.
115. Such are the grounds for banishing de-
spair, hitherto one of the most powerful causes of
the delay and restraint to which the sciences have
been subjected ; in treating of which, we have at
the same time discussed the signs and causes of
the errors, idleness, and ignorance, that have pre-
vailed : seeing especially that the more refined
causes, which are not open to popular judgment
and observation, may be referred to our remarks
on the idols of the human mind. Here, too, we
should close the demolishing branch of ourlnstau-
lation, which is comprised in three confutations.
1. The confutation of natural human reason left
to itself. 2. The confutation of demonstration.
3. The confutation of theories, or received sys-
tems of philosophy and doctrines. Our confuta-
tion has followed such a course as was open to it,
namely, the exposing of the signs of error, and
the producing evidence of the causes of it: for we
could adopt no other, diifering, as we do, both in
first principles and demonstrations from others.
It is time for us, therefore, to come to the art
itself, and the rule for the interpretation of nature :
there is, however, still something which must not
be passed over. For the intent of this first book
of aphorisms being to prepare the mind for under-
standing as well as admitting what follows, we
nmst now, after having cleansed, polished, and
levelled its surface, place it in a good position,
and, as it were, a benevolent aspect towards our
propositions ; ceeing that prejudice in new matters
may be produced not only by the strength of pre-
conceived notions, but also by a false anticipation
or expectation of the matter proposed. We shall,
therefore, endeavour to induce good and correct j
opinions of what we offer, although this he only
necessary for the moment, and, as it weie. laid
out at interest, until the matter itself be well un-
derstood.
IIG. First, then, we must desire men not to
suppose that we are ambitious of founding any
philosophical sect, like the ancient Greeks, or
some moderns, as Telesius,* Patricius,| and
Severinus.:}: For, neither is this our intention,
nor do we think that peculiar abstract opinions
on nature and the principles of things, are of
much importance to men's fortunes; since it were
easy to revive many ancient theories, and to in-
troduce many new ones; as, for instance, many
hypotheses with regard to the heavens can be form-
ed, differing in themselves, and yet sufficiently
according with the phenomena.
We bestow not our labour on such theoretical
and, at the same time, useless topics. On the
contrary, our determination is that of trying
whether we can lay a firmer foundation, and ex-
tend to a greater distance the boundaries of human
power and dignity. And although, here and
there, upon some particular points, v,'e hold (in
our own opinion) more true and certain, and I
might even say, more advantageous tenets, than
those in general repute, (which we have collected
in the fifth, part of our Instauration,) yet we offer
no universal or complete theory. The time does
not yet appear to us to be arrived, and we enter-
tain no hope of our life being prolonged to the
completion of the sixth part of the Instauration,
(which is destined for philosophy discovered by
the interpretation of nature,) but are content if
we proceed quietly and usefully in our interme-
diate pursuit, scattering, in the mean time, the
seeds of less adulterated truth for posterity, and,
at least, commence the great work.
117. And, as we pretend not to found a sect,
so do we neither offer nor promise particular
effects : which may occasion some to object to us,
that since we so often speak of effects, and con-
sider every thing in its relation to that end, we
ought also to give some earnest of producing
them. Our course and method, however, as we
have often said, and again repeat, is such as not
to deduce effects from effects, nor experiments
from experiments, (as the empirics do,) but in
our capacity of legitimate interpreters of nature,
to deduce causes and axioms from effects and
* Bernardino Telesio, a Neapolitan. He studied at Padua,
and published liia "Ue Reruiii nature juxta propria princi-
pia" in 1565, in opposition to Aristotle. lie applied matlie-
matics to physics, and held some notions similar to those of
Parmenides.
t Francesco Patrizio, horn in Cherso, on the coast of I)al-
matia, in 1529. He studied at Padua, and was afterwards
professor of Platonic philosophy at Rome till his death in
1597. He impugned Aristotle's philosophy in his Nova de
Universis Philosophia.
% Marco Aurelio Severini, a learned physician of Naples,
who published an attack on Aristotle's Natural History, and
several other works. He was born in )56fl
xNOVUM ORGAXUM.
307
experiments; and new pffWets and experiments
from those causes and axioms.
And, although any one of moderate intellifjence
and ability will observe the indications and
sketches of many noble effects in our tables of
inventions, (which form the fourth part of the
liistaiiralion,) and also in the examples, of parti-
cular instances cited in the second pnrt, as well
as in our observations on history, (wliich is the
subject of the third part ; yet we cr.ndidly confess
*liat our present natural history, whether compiled
from books or our own inquiries, is not sufficiently
copious and well ascertained to satisfy, or even
assist, a proper interpretation.
If, therefore, there be any one who is more dis-
posed and prepared for mechanical art, and inge-
nious in discovering effects, than in the mere
management of experiment, we allow him to
employ his industry in gathering many of the
fruits of our history and tables in his way, and
applying them to effects, receiving them as inte-
rest till he can obtain the principal. For our own
part, having a greater object in view, we condemn
all hasty and premature rest in such pursuits, as
we would Atalanta's apple (to use a common
allusion of ours;) for we are not childishly am-
bitious of golden fruit, but use all our efforts to
make the course of art outstrip nature, and we
hasten not to reap moss or the green blade, but
wait for a ripe harvest.
118. There will be some, without doubt, who,
on a perusal of our history and tables of inven-
tion, will meet with some uncertainty, or perhaps
fallacy, in the experiments themselves, and will
thence, perhaps, imagine that our discoveries are
built on false foundations and principles. There
is, however, really nothing in this, since it must
needs happen in beginnings. For it is the same
as if in writing or printing one or two letters
were wrongly turned or misplaced, which is no
great inconvenience to the reader, who can easily
by his own eye correct the error; let men in the
same way conclude that many experiments in
natural history may be erroneously believed and
admitted, which are easily expunged and rejected
afterwards by the discovery of causes and axioms.
It is, however, true that if these errors in natural
history and experiments become great, frequent,
and continued, they cannot be corrected and
amended by any dexterity of wit or art. If, then,
even in our natural history, well examined and
compiled with such diligence, strictness, and (I
might say) reverential scruples, there be now and
then something false and erroneous in the details,
what must we say of the common natural history,
which is so negligent and careless when compared
with oursi or of systems of philosophy and the
sciences based on such loose soil, or rather quick-
sand ? Let none thei be alarmed by such observa-
tions.
119. Again, our history and experiments will
contain much that is light and common, mean and
illiberal, too refined and merely bpeculative. and,
as it were, of no use, and this, perhaps, may
divert and alienate the attention of mankind.
With regard to what is common; let men reflect,
that they have hitherto been used to do nothing
but refer and adapt the causes of things of rare
occurrence to those of things which more fre-
quently happen, without any investigation of the
causes of the latter, taking them for granted and
admitted.
Hence they do not inquire into the causes of
gravity, the rotation of the heavenly bodies, heat,
cold, light, hardness, softness, rarity, density,
liquidity, solidity, animation, inanimation, simili-
tude, difference, organic formation, but taking
them to be self-evident, manifest, and admitted,
they dispute and decide upon other matters of less
frequent and familiar occurrence.
But we (who know that no judgment can be
formed of that which is rare or remarkable, and
much less any thing new brought to light, with-
out a previous regular examination and discovery
of the causes of thnt which is common, and the
causes again of those causes) are necessarily
compelled to admit the most common objects into
our history. Besides, we have observed that
nothing has been so injurious to philosophy as
this circumstance, namely, that familiar and fre-
quent objects do not arrest and detain men's con-
templation, but are carelessly admitted, and their
causes never inquired after; so that information
on unknown subjects is not more often wanted
than attention to those which are known.
120. With regard to the meanness or even the
filthiness of particulars, for which (as Pliny ob-
serves) an apology is requisite, such subjects are
no less worthy of admission into natural history
than the most magnificent and costly : nor do they
at all pollute natural history, for the sun enters
alike the palace and the privy, and is not thereby
polluted. We neither dedicate nor raise a capitol
or pyramid to the pride of man, but rear a holy
temple in his mind, on the model of the universe,
which model therefore we imitate. For that
which is deserving of existence is deserving of
knowledge, the image of existence. Now, the
mean and splendid alike exist. Nay, as the
finest odours are sometimes produced from putrid
matter, (such as musk and civet,) so does valuable
light and information emanate from mean and
sordid instances. But we have already said too
much, for such fastidious feelings are childish
and effeminate.
121. The next point requires a more accurate
consideration, namely, that many parts of oui
history will appear to the vulgar, or even any
mind accustomed to the present state of things,
fantastically and uselessly refined. Hence we
have in regard to this matter said <"rom »he first,
and must again repeat, that we look for tx^eti
868
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book 1.
ments that shall afford Wght rather than profit,
imitating the divine creation, which, as wo have
often ohserved, only produced light on the first
day, and assigned that whole day to its creation,
without adding any material work.
If any one then imagine such matters to be of
no use, he might equally suppose light to be of no
use, because it is neither solid nor material. For
in fact the knowledge of simple natures, when
sufficiently investigated and defined, resembles
light, which though of no great use in itself,
affords access to the general mysteries of effects,
and with a peculiar power comprehends and
draws with it whole bands and troops of effects,
and the sources of the most valuable axioms. So,
also, the elements of letters have of themselves
separately no meaning, and are of no use, yet are
they as it were the original matter in the com-
position and preparation of speech. The seeds
of substances whose effect is powerful, are of no
use except in their growth, and the scattered rays
of light itself avail not unless collected.
But if speculative subtilties give ofience, what
must we say of the scholastic philosophers who
indulged in them to such excess? And those
subtilties were wasted on words, or at least com-
mon notions, (which is the same thing,) not on
things or nature, and alike unproductive of benefit
in their origin and their consequences : in no way
resembling ours, which are at present useless, but
in their consequences of infinite benefit. Let
men be assured that all subtile disputes and dis-
cursive efforts of the mind are late and preposte-
rous, when they are introduced subsequently to
the discovery of axioms, and that their true or at
any rate chief opportunity is when experiment is
io be weighed an-d axioms to be derived from it.
They otherwise catch and grasp at nature, but
rjever seize or detain her : and we may well apply
to nature tliat which has been said of opportunity
or fortune, " that she wears a lock in front, but is
bald behind."
In short, we may reply decisively to those who
despise any part of natural history as being vul-
gar, mean, or subtle and useless in its origin, in
the words of a poor woman to a haughty prince
who had rejected her petition, as unworthy and
beneath tlie dignity of his majesty : "then cease
to reign ;" for it is quite certain that the empire
of nature can neither be obtained nor administered
by one who refuses to pay attention to such mat-
ters a*! being poor and too minute.
122. Again, it may be objected to us as being
singulai and harsh, that we should with one
stroke and assault, as it were, banish all authori-
ties and sciences, and that too by our own efforts,
without requiring the assistance and support of
"ny of the ancients.
IVow, we are aware, that had we been ready to
nut otherwise than sincerely, it was not difficult
to refer our present method to remote ages, prior
to those of the Greeks, (since the sciences in all
probability flourished more in their natural state,
though silently, than when they were paraded
with the fifes and trumpets of the Greeks;) or
even (in parts at least) to some of the Greeks
themselves, and to derive auiiiority and honour
from thence; as men of no family labour to raise
and form nobility for themselves in some ancient
line, by the help of genealogies. Trusting, how-
ever, to the evidence of facts, we reject every
kind of fiction and imposture: and think it of
no more consequence to our subject, whether future
discoveries were known to the ancients, and set
or rose according to the vicissitudes of events and
lapse of ages, than it would be of importance to
mankind to know whether the new world be the
island of Atlantis,* and known to the ancients, or
be now discovered for the first time.
With regard to the universal censure we have
bestowed, it is quite clear to any one who pro-
perly considers the matter, that it is both more pro-
bable and more modest than any partial one could
have been. For if the errors had not been rooted
in the primary notions, some well conducted
discoveries must have corrected others that were
deficient. But since the errors were fundamental,
and of such a nature that men may be said rather
to have neglected or passed over things than to
have formed a wrong or false judgment of them,
it is little to be wondered at, that they did not
obtain what they never aimed at, nor arrive at a
goal which they had not determined, nor perform
a course which they had neither entered upon nor
adhered to.
With regard to our presumption, we allow that
if we were to assume a power of drawing a more
perfect straiglit line or circle than any one else,
by superior steadiness of hand or acuteness of
eye, it would lead to a comparison of talent ; but
if one merely assert that he can draw a more per-
fect line or circle with a ruler or compasses, than
another can by his unassisted hand or eye, he
surely cannot be said to boast of much. Now this
applies not only to our first original attempt, but
also to those who shall hereafter apply them-
selves to the pursuit. For our method of dis-
covering the sciences, merely levels men's wits,
and leaves but little to their superiority, since it
achieves every thing by the most certain rules
and demonstrations. Whence, (as we have often
observed,) our attempt is to be attributed to for-
tune rather than talent, and is the offspring of
time rather than of wit. For a certain sort of
chance has no less effect upon our thoughts than
on our acts and deeds.
123. We may, therefore, apply to ourselves
the joke of him who said, "that water and wine
drinkers could not think alike," especially as it
hits the matter so well. For others, both an-
• See Plato's Timffius.
Book I.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
8Atf
nentd and moderna, have, in the sciences, drank a
crude li<iuor like water, either flowing of itself
from the iinderstandinir, or drawn up by logic as
the wheel draws up the bucket. 13ut we drink
and pledge others with a liquor nnade of many
well lipened grapes, collected and plucked from
particular branches, squeezed in the press, and at
last clarified and fermented in a vessel. It is not,
therefore, wonderful that we should not agree
with others.
124. Another objection will, without doubt, be
made, namely, that we have not ourselves esta-
blished A correct, or the best goal or aim of the
sciences, (the very defect we blame in others.)
For, they will say, that the contemplation of
truth is more dignified and exalted than any
utility or extent of eflfects : but that our dwelling
so long and anxiously on experience and matter,
and the fluctuating state of particulars, fastens the
mind to earth, or rather casts it down into an
abyss of confusion and disturbance, and separates
and removes it from a much more divine state,
the quiet and tranquillity of abstract wisdom.
We willingly assent to their reasoning, and are
most anxious to effect the very point they hint
at and require. For w^e are founding a real
model of the world in the understanding, such as
it is found to be, not such as man's reason has
distorted. Now, this cannot be done without dis-
secting and anatomizing the world most diligent-
ly; but we declare it necessary to destroy com-
pletely the vain, little, and as it were apish imita-
tions ot the world, which have been formed in
various systems of philosophy by men's foncies.
Let men learn (as we have said above) the differ-
encB that exists between the idols of the human
mind, and the ideas of the Divine mind. The
former are mere arbitrary abstractions ; the latter
the true marks of the Creator on his creatures, as
they are imprinted on, and defined in matter, by
true and exquisite touches. Truth, therefore,
and utility are here perfectly identical, and the
effects are of more value as pledges of truth than
from the benefit they confer on men.
125. Others may object that we are only doing
that which has already been done, and that the
ancients followed the same course as ourselves.
They may imagine, therefore, that, after all this
stir and exertion, we shall at last arrive at some
of those systems that prevailed among the an-
cients : for that they, too, when commencing their
meditations, laid up a great store of instances
and particulars, and digested them under topics
and titles in their commonplace books, and so
worked out their systems and arts, and then de-
cided upon what they discovered, and related
now anil then some examples to confirm and
throw litrht upon their doctrine; but thought it
superfluous and troublesome to publish their
notes, minutes, and commonplaces, and, therefore,
followed the example of builders, who remove
Vol. Ill 47
the scaffolding and ladders when the building i>i
finished. Nor can we indeed believe the case to
have been otherwise. But to any one, not en-
tirely forgetful of our previous observations, it
will be easy to answer this objection, or rather
scruple. For, we allow that the ancients had a
particular form of investigation and discovery,
and their writings show it. But it was of such
a nature, that they immediately flew from a few
instances and particulars, (after adding some
common notions, and a few generally received
opinions most in vogue,) to the most general con-
clusions, or the principles of the sciences, and
then by their intermediate propositions deduced
their inferior conclusions, and tried them by the
test of the immovable and settled truth of the
first, and so constructed their art. Lastly, if
some new particulars and instances were brought
forward, which contradicted their dogmas, they
either with great subtilty reduced them to one
system, by distinctions or explanations of their
own rules, or got rid of them clumsily as excep-
tions, labouring most pertinaciously in the mean
time to accommodate the causes of such as were
not contradictory to their own principles. Their
natural history and their experience were both
far from being what they ought to have been,
and their flying off to generalities ruined every
thing.
l-2Ci. Another objection will be made against
us, that we prohibit decisions, and the laying
down of certain principles, till we arrive regular-
ly at generalities by the intermediate steps, and
thus keep the judgment in suspense and lead to
uncertainty. But our object is not uncertainty,
but fitting certainty, for we derogate not from
the senses, but assist them, and despise not the
understanding, but direct it. It is better to know
what is necessary, and not to imagine we are
fully in possession of it, than to imagine that we
are fully in possession of it, and yet in reality to
know nothing which we ought.
127. Again, some may raise this question rather
than objection, whether we talk of perfecting na-
tural philosophy alone according to our method,
or the other sciences also, such as logic, ethics,
politics. We certainly intend to comprehend
them all. And as common logic, which regulates
matters by syllogisms, is applied not only to na-
tural, but also to every other science, so oui in-
ductive method likewise comprehends them all.
For we form a history and tables of invention for
anger, fear, shame, and the like, and also for ex-
amples in civil life, and the mental operations of
memory, composition, division, judgment, and the
rest, as well as for heat and cold, light, vegeta-
tion, and the like. But since our method of in
terpretation, after preparing and arranging a his
tory, does not content itself with examining the
operations and disquisitions of the mind, like
common logic ; but also inspects the nature of
370
NOVUM ORGAxNUM.
B.:
things, we so regulate the mind that it may be
enabled to apply itself in every respect correctly
to that nature. On that account we deliver nu-
merous and various precepts in our doctrine of
interpretation, so that they may apply in some
measure to the method of discovering- the (juality
and condition of the subject-matter of investi-
gation.
128. Let none even doubt whether we are anx-
ious to destroy and demolish the philosophy, arts,
and sciences, which are now in use. On the con-
trary, we readily cherish their practice, cultivation,
and honour. For we by no means interfere to
prevent the prevalent system from encouraging
discussion, adorning discourses, or being employ-
ed serviceably in the chair of the professor or the
practice of common life, and being taken, in
short, by general consent, as current coin. Nay,
we plainly declare, that the system we offer will
not be very suitable for such purposes, not being
easily adapted to vulgar apprehensions, except by
effects and works. To show our sincerity in pro-
fessing our regard and friendly disposition to-
wards the received sciences, we can refer to the
evidence of our published writings, (especially
our books on the advancement of learning.) We
will not, therefore, endeavour to evince it any
further by words ; but content ourselves with
steadily and professedly premising, that no great
progress can be made by the present methods, in
the theory or contemplation of science, and that
they cannot be made to produce any very abun-
dant effects.
129. It remains for us to say a few words on
the excellence of our proposed end. If we had
done so before, we might have appeared merely
to express our wishes, but now that we have ex-
cited hope and removed prejudices, it will perhaps
have greater weight. Had we performed and
completely accomplished the whole, without fre-
quently calling in others to assist in our labours,
we should then have refrained from saying any
more, lest we should be thought to extol our own
deserts. Since, however, the industry of others
must be quickened, and their courage roused and
inflamed, it is right to recall some points to their
memory.
First, then, the introduction of great inventions
appears one of the most distinguished of human
actions ; and the ancients so considered it. For
they assigned divine honours to the authors of
inventions, but only heroic honours to those who
displayed civil merit, (such as the founders of
cities and empires, legislators, the deliverers of
their country from everlasting misfortunes, the
quellers of tyrants, and the like.) And if any
one rightly compare them, he will find the judg-
ment of antiquity to be correct. For the benefits
derived from inventions may extend to mankind
in general, but civil benefits to particular spots
alone ; the latter, moreover, last but for a time,
the former forever Civil reformation seldom is
carried on without violence and confusion, whilst
inventions are a blessing and a benefit, without
injuring or afflicting any.
Inventions are, also, as it were, new creations
and imitations of divine works; as was expiessed
by the poet:*
"Priniiim frugiferos fetus niortalihus wgris
Dididerant quondatn prKstanti nninine Athenae
Et recreaverunt vitain legesque rogariint."
And it is worthy of remark in Solomon, that
whilst he flourished in the possession of his em-
pire, in wealth, in the magnificence of his works,
in his court, his household, his fleet, the splendour
of his name, and the most unbounded admiration
of mankind, he still placed his glory in none of
these, but declared,")" "That it is the glory of
God to conceal a thing, but the glory of a king to
search it out."
Again, let any one but consider the immense
difference between men's lives in the most polish-
ed countries of Europe, and in any wild and bar-
barous region of the New Indies, he will think it
so great, that man may be said to be a god unto
man, not only on account of mutual aid and bene-
fits, but from their comparative states : the result
of the arts, and not of the soil or climate.
Again, we should notice the force, effect, and
consequences of inventions, which are nowhere
more conspicuous than in those three which were
unknown to the ancients; namely, printing, gun-
powder, and the compass. For these three have
changed the appearance and state of the whole
world ; first in literature, then in warfare, and
lastly in navigation: and innumerable changes
have been thence derived, so that no empire, sect,
or star, appears to have exercised a greater power
and influence on human affairs than these mecha'
nical discoveries.
It will, perhaps, be as well to distinguish three
species and degrees of ambition. First, that of
men who are anxious to enlarge their own power
in their country, which is a vulgar and degenerate
kind ; next, that of men who strive to enlarge the
power and empire of their country over mankind,
which is more dignified, but not less covetous ;
but if one were to endeavour to renew and enlarge
the power and empire of mankind in general over
the universe, such ambition (if it may so be
termed) is both more sound and more noble than
the other two. Now, the empire of man over
things is founded on the arts and sciences alone,
for nature is only to be commanded by obeying her.
♦ This is the opening of the sixth book of Lucretius. Ba-
con probably qiioted from memory ; the lines are,
Prima; frugiferos foetus mortalibus tpgris
Dididerunt quondam praclaro nomine Athense
Et recreaverunt, &c.
The teeming corn, that feeb'e mortals crave.
First, and long since, renowned Athens gave,
And cheered their life— then taught to frame their law*
t Prov. XXV 2.
Book II
NOVUM ORGANUM.
371
Besides this, if the benefit of any particular
invention has had such an elTect as to induce men
to consider him jrrealer than a man, who has thus
obliged the whole race ; how much more exalted
will that discovery be, which leads to the easy
discovery of every thing else ! Yet, (to speak the
truth,) in the same manner as we are very thankful
for light which enables us to enter on our way, to
practise arts, to read, to distinguish each other,
and yet sight is more excellent and beautiful than
the various uses of light ; so is the contemplation
of things as they are, free from superstition or
imposture, error or confusion, much more digni-
fied in itself than all the advantage to be derived
from discoveries.
Lastly, let none be alarmed at the objection of
the arts and sciences becoming depraved to ma-
levolent or luxurious purposes and the like, for the
same can be said of every worldly good ; talent,
courage, strength, beauty, riches, light itself, and
the rest. Only let mankind regain their rights
over nature, assigned to them by the gift of God,
and obtain that power, whose exercise will be
governed by right reason and true religion.
130. But it is time for us to lay down the art
of interpreting nature; to which we attribute no
absolute necessity (as if nothing could be done
without it) nor perfection, although we think that
our precepts are most useful and correct. For we
are of opinion, that if men had at their command
a proper history of nature and experience, and
would apply themselves steadily to it, and could
bind themselves to two things ; 1. To lay aside
received opinions and notions ; 2. To restrain them-
selves, till the proper season, from generalization,
they might, by the proper and genuine exertion
of their minds, fall into our way of interpretation
without the aid of any art. For interpretation is
the true and natural act of the mind, when all ob-
stacles are removed : certainly, however, every
thing will be more ready and better fixed by our
precepts.
Yet do we not affirm that no addition can be
made to them ; on the contrary, considering the
mind in its connexion with things, and not merely
relatively to its own powers, we ought to be per-
suaded that the art of invention can be raade to
grow with th*. inventions themselves
THE SECOND BOOK OF
APHORISMS,
ON THE
INTERPRETATION OF NATURE, OR THE REIGN OF MAN
1. To generate and superinduce a new nature,
or new natures, upon a given body, is the labour
and aim of human power : whilst to discover the
form or true difference of a given nature, or the
nature* to which such nature is owing, or source
from whence it emanates, (for these terms ap-
proach nearest to an explanation of our meaning,)
is the labour and discovery of human knowledge.
And, subordinate to these primary labours, are
two others, of a secondary nature and inferior
stamp. Under the first must be ranked the
transformation of concrete bodies from one to
another, which is possible within certain limits ;
under the second, the discovery, in every species
of generation and motion, of the latent and unin-
terrupted process, from the manifest efficient and
manifest subject-matter up to the given form : and
a like discovery of the latent conformation of
bodies which are at rest, instead of being in
motion.
2. The unhappy state of man's actual know-
ledge is manifested even by the common asser-
• Td r, ^y tlvai, or n ovcia of Aristotle. See lib. 3. Metap.
I tions of the vulgar. It is rightly laid down, that
I "true knowledge is that which is deduced from
causes." The division of four causes, also, is
not amiss : matter, form, the efficient, and end, or
final cause.* Of these, however, the latter is so
far from being beneficial,lhat it even corrupts the
sciences, except in the intercourse of man with
man. The discovery of form is considered despe-
rate. As for the efficient cause, and matter, (ac-
cording to the present system of inquiry and the
received opinions concerning them, by which
they are placed remote from, and without any
latent process towards form,) they are but desul-
tory and superficial, and of scarcely any avail to
real and active knowledge. Nor are we unmind-
ful of our having pointed out and corrected above
the error of the human mind, in assigning the
first qualities of essence to forms. f For, althongi)
nothing exists in nature except individual bodies,
♦ These divisions are from Aristotle's Metaphysics, where
they are teritnid, 1, vXr} fj rd vnoKiiftivov, 2, ro ri ?iv ct^m
3, o5cv 3 apxi rrji Kivcceuif. 4, rd ov IvtKtv — KaX to ayu^'nv.
+ See Aphorism 51, and 2d paragraph of Aphorism 6d. id
the first book.
372
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book II.
exhibiting clear individual effects according to
particvilar laws :* yet, in each branch of learning,
that very law, its investigation, discovery, and
development, are the foundation both of theory
and practice. I This, law, therefore, and its
parallel in each science, is what we understand
by the Xerm. form, adopting that word because it
has grown into common use, and is of familiar
occurrence.
3. He who has learned the cause of a particular
nature, (such as whiteness or heat,) in particular
subjects only, has acquired but an imperfect
knowledge : as he who can induce a certain effect
upon particular substances only, among those
which are susceptible of it, has acquired but an
imperfect power. But he who has only learned
the efficient and material cause, (which causes
are variable, and mere vehicles conveying form to
particular substances,) may perhaps arrive at
some new discoveries in matters of a similar na-
ture, and prepared for the purpose, but does not
stir the limits of things, which are much more
deeply rooted : whilst he who is acquainted with
forms, comprehends the unity of nature in sub-
stances apparently most distinct from each other.
He can disclose and bring forward, therefore,
(though it has never yet been done,) things which
neither the vicissitudes of nature, nor the industry
of experiment, nor chance itself, would ever have
brought about, and which would forever have
escaped man's thoughts. From the discovery of
forms, therefore, results genuine theory and free
practice.
4. Although there is a most intimate connec-
tion and almost an identity between the ways of
human power and human knowledge; yet, on
account of the pernicious and inveterate habit of
dwelling upon abstractions, it is by far the safest
method to commence and build up the sciences
from those foundations which bear a relation to
the practical division, and to let them mark out
and limit the theoretical. We must consider,
therefore, what precepts, or what direction or
guide, a person would most desire, in order to
generate and superinduce any nature upon a given
body : and this not in abstruse, but in the plainest
language.
For instance, if a person should wish to super-
induce the yellow colour of gold upon silver, or
an additional weight, (observing always the laws
of matter,) or transparency on an opaque stone,
or tenacity in glass, or vegetation on a substance
which is not vegetable, we must (I say) consider
what species of precept or guide this person
would prefer. And, firstly, he will doubtless be
♦ Plato's ideas or farms, &re the abstractions or generaliza-
tions of distinct species, which have no real existence, indi-
vidunls only eristing.
+ Observe throughout, Bacon's term form means no more
Ihan law. See, further, third paragraph of Aphorism 17 of
this book.
anxious to be shown some method that will nei-
ther fail in effect, nor deceive him in the trial of
it. Secondly, he will be anxious that the pre-
scribed method should not restrict him and tie
him down to peculiar means, and certain parti-
cular methods of acting. For he will, perhaps,
be at a loss, and without the power or opportunity
of collecting and procuring such means. Now,
if there be other means and methods (besides
those prescribed) of creating such a nature, they
will perhaps be of such a kind as are in his
power; yet, by the confined limits of the precept
he will be deprived of reaping any advantage from
them. Thirdly, he will be anxious to be shown
something not so diflUcult as the required effect
itself, but approaching more nearly to practice.
We will lay this down, therefore, as the
genuine and perfect rule of practice ; " That it
should be certain, free, and preparatory, or having
relation to practice." And this is the same thing
as the discovery of a true form. For the form of
any nature is such, that when it is assigned, the
particular nature infallibly follows. It is, there-
fore, always present when that nature is present,
and universally attests such presence, and isi
inherent in the whole of it. The same form is
of such a character, that if it be removed, the
particular nature infallibly vanishes. It is, there-
fore, absent whenever that nature is absent, and
perpetually testifies such absence, and exists in
no other nature. Lastly, the true form is such,
that it deduces the particular nature from some
source of essence existing in many subjects, and
more known (as they term it) to nature, than the
form itself.* Such, then, is our determination
and rule with regard to a genuine and perfect
theoretical axiom ; " that a nature be found con-
vertible with a given nature, and yet such as to
limit the more known nature, in tlie manner of a
real genus." I?ut these two rules, the practical
and theoretical, are in fact the same, and that
which is most useful in practice is most correct
in theory.
5. But the rule or axiom for the transformation
of bodies is of two kinds. The first regards the
body as an aggregate or combination of simple
natures. Thus, in gold are united the following
circumstances; it is yellow, heavy, of a certain
weight, malleable and ductile to a certain extent;
it is not volatile, loses part of its substance by
fire, melts in a peculiar manner, is separated and
dissolved by particular methods, and so of the
other natures observable in gold. An axiom,
therefore, of this kind deduces the subject from
the forms of simple natures. For he who has
acquired the forms and methods of superinducing
* Thus, to adopt Bacon's own illustration, motion is a pro-
perty common to manj' subjects, from which must be deduced
the form of heat, by defining a particular genus of motion
convertible with heat. See the First Vintage in Aphorism
20, below.
Book II.
NOVUM ORGAN UM.
373
yellowness, weight, ductility, stability, deliques-
reiicc, solution, and the like, and tlioir degrees
and modes, will consider and contrive how to
unite tiiem in any body, so as to* transform it
into gold. And this method of operating belongs
to primary action. For it is the same thing to
produce, one or many simple natures, except that
man is more confined and restricted in his opera-
tions, if many be required, on account of the diffi-
culty of uniting many natures together. It must,
however, be observed, that this method of operat-
ing (which considers natures as simple, though in
a concrete body) sets out from what is constant,
eternal, and universal in nature, and opens such
broad paths to human power, as the thoughts of
man can in the present state of things scarcely
compiehend or figure to itself. The second kind
of axiom (which depends on the discovery of the
latent process) does not proceed by simple natures,
but by concrete bodies, as they are found in na-
ture, and in its usual course. For instance; sup-
pose the inquiry to be, from what beginnings, in
what manner, and by what process gold or any
metal or stone is generated from the original
menstruum, or its elements, up to the perfect
mineral : or, in like manner, by what process
plants are generated, from the first concretion of
juices in the earth, or from seeds, up to the perfect
plant, with the whole successive motion, and
varied and uninterrupted efforts of nature; and
the same inquiry be made as to a regularly
deduced system of the generation of animals
from coition to birth, and so on of other bodies.
Nor is this species of inquiry confined to the
mere generation of bodies, but it is applicable to
other changes and labours of nature. For in-
stance; where an inquiry is made into the whole
series, and continued operation of the nutritive
process, from the first reception of the food, to its
complete assimilation to the recipient : or into the
voluntary motion of animals, from the first im-
pression of the imagination, and the continuous
effects of the spirits, up to the bending and mo-
tion of the joints; or into the free motion of the
tongue and lips, and other accessories which give
utterance to articulate sounds. For all. these in-
vestigations relate to concrete or associated na-
tures, artificially brought together, and take into
consideration certain particular and special habits
of nature, and not those fundamental and general
laws which constitute forms. It nmst, however,
be plainly owned, that this method appears more
prompt and easy, and of greater promise than the
primary one.
In like manner the operative branch, which an-
swers to this contemplative branch, extends and
advances its operation from that which is usually
♦ By the recent diaroveries in electric magnetism, copper
wire8, or, indeed, wires of any metal may be transformed
into magnets ; the magnetic law or form having been to that
extent discovered.
observed in nature, to other subjects immediately
connected with it, or not very remote from such
immediate connexion. But the higher and radi-
cal opcirations upon nature, depend entirely on the
primary axioms. Besides, even where man has not
the means of acting, but only of acquiring know-
ledge, as in astronomy, (for man cannot act upon,
change, or transform the heavenly bodies,) the
investigation of facts or truth, as well as the
knowledge of causes and coincidences, must be
referred to those primary and universal axioms
that regard simple natures; such as the nature of
spontaneous rotation, attraction, or the magnetic
force, and many others which are more common
than the heavenly bodies themselves. For, let
no one hope to determine the question, whether
the earth or heaven revolve in the diurnal motion,
unless he have first comprehended the nature of
spontaneous rotation.
6. But the latent process, of which we speak,
is far from being obvious to men's minds, beset
as they now are. For, we mean not the mea-
sures, symptoms, or degrees of any process
which can be exhibited in the bodies them-
selves, but simply a continued process, which,
for the most part, escapes the observation of
For instance; in all generations and transfor-
mations of bodies, we must inquire, what is in
the act of being lost and escaping, what remains,
what is being added, what is being diluted, what
is being contracted, what is being united, what is
being separated, what is continuous, what is
broken off, what is urging forward, what impedes,
what predominates, what is subservient, and
many other circumstances.
Nor are these inquiries again to be made in the
mere generation and transformation of bodies
only, but in all other alterations and fluctuations,
we must in like manner inquire ; what precedes,
what succeeds, what is quick, what is slow,
what produces and what governs motion, and the
like. All which matters are unknown and unat-
tempted by the sciences, in their present heavy
and inactive state. For, since every natural act is
brought about by the smallest efforts, or at least
such as are too small to strike our senses, let no
one hope that he will be able to direct or change
nature, unless he have properly comprehended
and observed these efforts.
7. In like manner, the investigation and disco-
very of the latent confirmation in bodies is no less
I new, than the discovery of the latent process and
I form. For, we as yet are doubtless only admitted
I to the antechamber of nature, and do not prepare
I an entrance into her presence-room. But nobody
I can endue a given body with a new nature, or
transform it successfully and appropriately into a
I new body, without possessing a complete know-
j ledge of the body so to be changed or transformed.
I For he will run into vain, or, at least, into difficult
21
374
NOVUM ORGAN UM.
Book II.
and perverse methods, ill adapted to the nature of: organic body are subject to the same examination,
the body upon which he operates. A clear path, j In these, however, as in our former inquiries, and
therefore, towards this object, also must be thrown i therefore in the whole investigation of latent con-
open, and well supported. formation, the only genuine and clear light which
Labour is well and usefully bestowed upon j completely dispels all darkness and subtile diffi-
the anatomy of organized bodies, such as those ■ culties, is admitted by means of the primary
of men and animals, which appears to be a sub- axioms.
tile matter, and a useful examination of nature. 8. This method will not bring us to atoms,'
This species of anatomy, however, is that of first i which takes for granted the vacuum, and the im-
sight, open to the senses, and takes place only in mutability of matter, (neither of which hypotheses
organized bodies. It is obvious, and of ready ; is correct;) but to the real particles, such as we
access, when compared with the real anatomy of j discover them to be. Nor is there any ground
latent conformation in bodies which are considered for alarm at this refinement, as if it were inexpli-
similar, particularly in specific objects and their j cable, for, on the contrary, the more inquiry is
parts : as those of iron, stone, and the similar
parts of plants and animals, as the root, the leaf,
the flower, the flesh, the blood, and bones, &c.
Yet human industry has not completely neglected
this species of anatomy : for we have an instance
of it in the separation of similar bodies by dis-
tillation, and other solutions, which shows the
dissimilarity of the compound, by the union of
the homogeneous parts. These methods are use-
ful, and of importance to our inquiry, although
attended generally with fallacy : for many na-
tures are assigned and attributed to the separate
bodies, as if they had previously existed in the
compound, which, in reality, are recently bestow-
ed and superinduced by fire and heat, and the
other modes of separation. Besides, it is, after
all, but a small part of the labour of discovering
the real conformation in the compound, which is
so subtile and nice, that it is rather confused and
lost by the operation of the fire, than discovered
and brought to light.
A se[)aration and solution of bodies, therefore,
is to be effected, not by fire indeed, but rather by
reasoning and true induction, with the assistance
of experiment, and by a comparison with other
bodies, and a reduction to those simple natures
and their forms, which meet and are combined in
the compound ; and we must assuredly pass from
Vulcan to Minerva, if we wish to bring to light
the real texture and conformation of bodies, upon
which every occult and (as it is sometimes called)
specific property and virtue of things depends,
and whence, also, every rule of powerful change
and transformation is deduced.
For instance, we must examine what spirit is
in every body, what tangible essence ; whether that
spirit is copious and exuberant, or meagre and
scarce, fine or coarse, aeriform or igniform, active
or sluggish, weak or robust, progressive or retro-
*grade, abrupt or continuous, agreeing with exter-
nal and surrounding objects, or differing from
them, &c. In like manner must we treat tangi-
ble essence, (which admits of as many distinctions
as the spirit,) and its hairs, fibres, and varied
textpre. Again, the situation of the spirit in the
corporeal mass, its pores, passages, veins, and
cells, and the rudiments or first essays of the
directed to simple natures, the more will every
thing be placed in a plain and perspicuous light;
since we transfer our attention from the compli-
cated to the simple, from the incommensurable to
the commensurable, from surds to rational quanti-
ties, from the indefinite and vague to the definite
and certain: as when we arrive at the elements
of letters, and the simple tones of concords. The
investigation of nature is best conducted when
mathematics are applied to physics. Again, let
none be alarmed at vast numbers and fractions;
for, in calculation, it is as easy to set down or to
reflect upon a thousand as a unit, or the thou-
sandth part of an integer as an integer itself.
9. Fromj" the two kinds of axioms above speci-
fied arise the two divisions of philosophy and the
sciences, and we will use the commonly adopted
terms, which approach the nearest to our meaning,
in our own sense. Let the investigation of forms,
which (in reasoning at least, and after their own
laws) are eternal and immutable, constitute meta-
physics, and let the investigation of the eflicient
cause of matter, latent process, and latent confor-
mation (which all relate merely to the ordinary
course of nature, and not to her fundamental and
eternal laws) constitute physics. Parallel to these
let there be two practical divisions; to physics
that of mechanics, and to metaphysics that of magic,
in the purest sense of the term, as applied to its
ample means and its command over nature.
10. The object of our philosophy being thus
laid down, we proceed to precepts, in the most
clear and regular order. The signs for the inter-
pretation of nature comprehend two divisions : the
first regards the eliciting or creating of axioms
from experiment, the second the deducing or de-
riving of new experiments from axioms. The
first admits of three subdivisions into ministra.
tions. I. To the senses. 2. To the memory.
* The theory of the Epicureans and others. The atoms are
supposed to be indivisible, unalterable particles, endued with
all the properties of the civen body, and forming that body by
their union. They must be separated of course, which either
takes a vacuum for granted, or introduces a tertium quid into
the composition of the body.
+ Compare the three foilowlns aphorisms with the three
last chapters of the third book of the De Augnientig Scientia
Book II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
375
3. To the mind or reason. For we must first pre-
pare as a foundation for the whole a complete and
accurate natural and experimental history. We
must not imagine or invent, but discover the acts
and properties of nature.
But natural and experimental history is so
varied and diffuse, that it confounds and distracts
the understandinj^ unless it be fixed and exhibited
in due order. We must, therefore, form tables
and co-ordinations of instances, upon such a plan,
and in such order, that the understanding may be
enabled to act upon them.
Even when this is done, the understanding, left
to itself and its own operation, is incompetent and
unfit to construct its axioms without direction
and support. Our third ministration, therefore,
must be true and legitimate induction, the very
key of interpretation. We must begin, however,
at the end, and go back again to the others.
11. The investigation of Forms proceeds thus :
A nature being given, we must first present to the
understanding all the known instances which
agree in the same nature, although the subject-mat-
ter be considerably diversified. And this collec-
tion must be made as a mere history, and without
any premature reflection, or too great degree of
refinement. For instance : take the investigation
of the form of heat.
Instances agreeing in the Form of Heat.
1. The rays of the sun, particularly in summer,
and at noon.
2. The same reflected and condensed, as be-
tween mountains, or along walls, and particularly
m burning mirrors.
3. Isjnited meteors.
4. Burning lightning.
5. Eruptions of flames from the cavities of
mountains, &c.
G. Flame of every kind.
7. Ignited solids.
8. Natural warm baths.
9. Warm or heated liquids.
10. Warm vapours and smoke: and the air
itself, which admits a most powerful and violent
heat if confined, as in reverberating furnaces.
11. Damp hot weather, arising from the consti-
tution of the air, without any reference to the time
of the year.
12. Confined and subterraneous air in some
caverns, particularly in winter.
13. All shaggy substances, as wool, the skins
of animals, and the plumage of birds, contain
some heat.
14. All bodies, both solid and liquid, dense and
rare, (as the air itself,) placed near fire for any
time. I
15. Sparks arising from the violent percussion ]
of flint and steel. I
16 All bodies rubbed violently, as stone, wood, |
cloth, &c., so that rudders, and axles of wheels,
sometimes catch fire, and the West Indians obtain
fire by attrition.
17. Green and moist vegetable matter confined
and rubbed together; as roses, peas in baskets;
so hay, if it be damp when stacked, often catches
fire.
18. Quicklime sprinkled with water.
19. Iron, when first dissolved by acids in a
glass, and without any application to fire; the
same of tin, but not so intensely.
20. Animals, particularly internally ; although
the heat is not perceivable by the touch in insects,
on account of their small size.
21. Horse dung, and the like excrement from
other animals, when fresh.
22. Strong oil of sulphur and of vitriol exhibit
the operation of heat in burning linen.
23. As does the oil of marjoram, and like sub-
stances, in burning the bony substance of the
teeth.
24. Strong and well rectified spirits of wine
exhibit the same effects; so that white of eggs
when thrown into it, grows hard and white, almost
in the same manner as when boiled, and bread
becomes burnt and brown as if toasted.
25. Aromatic substances and warm plants, as
the dracunculus [arum,] old nasturtium, &c. ;
which, though they be not warm to the touch,
(whether whole or pulverized,) yet are discovered
by the tongue and palate to be warm and almost
burning when slightly masticated.
26. Strong vinegar and all acids, or any part of
the body not clothed with the epidermis, as the
eye, tongue, or any wounded part, or where the
skin is removed, excite a pain differing but little
from that produced by heat.
27. Even a severe and intense cold produces a
sensation of burning.*
" Nam Boreae penetrabile frigus adurit."
28. Other instances.
We are wont to call this a table of existence
and presence.
12. We must next present to the understanding
instances which do not admit of the given nature;
for form (as we have observed) ought no less lo
be absent where the given nature is absent, than
to be present where it is present. If, however
we were to examine every instance, our labour
would be infinite.
Negatives, therefore, must be classed unoei
the affirmatives, and the want of the given natuie
must be inquired into more particularly in objects
which have a very close connexion with tibose
others in which it is present and manifest. And
this we are wont to term a table of deviation or
of absence in proximity.
• " Ne teniies pluvi», rapidive potentia soils
Acrior, aut Boreie penetrabile frigus aifiirat."
Fir^. Otcrs- !. v. 92, W
376
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Bob 11.
Proximate Lisfances wanting the Nature of Heat.
First negative subjunctive instance to the first afBrmative
instances.
The rays of the rnoon, stars, and comets, are
not Ibund to be warm to the touch, nay, the
severest cold has been observed to take place at
the full of the moon. Yet the larger fixed stars are
supposed to increase and render more intense the
heat of the sun, as he approaches them; when
the sun is in the sign of the lion, for instance, and
in the dog-days.
Second negative to the second affirmative.
The rays of the sun in what is called the mid-
dle region of the air give no heat, to account for
which the commonly assigned reason is satisfacto-
ry ; namely, that that region is neither sufficiently
near to the body of the sun, whence the rays ema-
nate, nor to the earth, whence they are reflected.
And the fact is manifested by snow being perpe-
tual on the tops of mountains, unless extremely
lofty. But it is observed on the other hand by
some, that at the Peak of TenerifTe, and also
among the Andes of Peru, the tops of the moun-
tains are free from snow, which only lies in the
lower part, as you ascend. Besides, the air on
the summit of these mountains is found to be by
no means cold, but only thin and sharp ; so much
so, that in the Andes, it pricks and hurts the eyes
from its extreme sharpness, and even excites the
orifice of the stomach and produces vomiting.
The ancients also observed, that the rarity of the
air on the summit of Olympus, was such, that
those who ascended it, were obliged to carry
sponges moistened with vinegar and water, and
to apply them now and then to their nostrils, as
the air was not dense enough for their respiration ;
on the summit of which mountain it is also related,
there reigned so great a serenity and calm, free
from rain, snow, or wind, that the letters traced
upon the ashes of the sacrifices on the altar of
Jupiter, by the fingers of those who had oflfered
them, would remain undisturbed till the next
year. Those even, who, at this day, go to the
top of the Peak of TenerifTe, walk by night and
not in the daytime, and are advised and pressed
by their guides, as soon as the sun rises, to make
haste in their descent, on account of the danger,
(apparently arising from the rarity of the atmos-
phere,) lest their breathing should be relaxed and
suffocated.
Third negative to the second affirmative.
The reflection of the solar rays in the polar
regions is found to be weak and inefficient in
producing heat; so that the Dutch, who winter-
ed in Nova Zembla, and expected that their ves-
sels would be freed about the beginning of July
from the obstruction of the mass of ice which
had blocked it up, were disappointed and obliged
t > embark in their boat. Hence the direct rays
of the sun appear to have but little power evfn
on the plain, and when reflected, unless they are
multiplied and condensed, which takes place
when the sun tends more to the perpendicular:
for then the incidence of the rays occurs at morb
acute angles, so that the reflected rays are nearer
to each other, whilst, on the contrary, when the
sun is in a very oblique position, the angles of
incidence are very obtuse and the reflected rays
at a greater distance. In the mean time it must
be observed, that there may be many operations
of the solar rays, relating too to the nature of
heat, which are not proportioned to our touch, so
that, with regard to us, they do not tend to pro-
duce warmth, but, with regard to some other
bodies, have their due effect in producing it.
Fourth negative to the second aflirinative.
Let the following experiment be made. Take
a lens the reverse of a burning glass, and place
it between the hand and the solar rays, and ob-
serve whether it diminish the heat of the sun, as
a burning glass increases it. For it is clear, with
regard to the visual rays, that, in proportion as
the lens is made of unequal thickness in the
middle and at its sides, the images appear either
more diffused or contracted. It should be seen,
therefore, if the same be true with regard to heat.
Fifth negative to the second affirmative.
Let the experiment be well tried, whether the
lunar rays can be received and collected by the
strongest and best burning-glasses, so as to pro-
duce even the least degree of heat. But if that
degree be, perhaps, so subtile and weak, as not
to be perceived or ascertained by the touch, we
must have recourse to those glasses which indi-
cate the warm or cold state of the atmosphere,
and let the lunar rays fall through the burning
glass on the top of this thermometer, and then
notice if the water be depressed by the heat.*
Sixth negative to the second affirmative.
Let the burning-glass be tried on warm objects
which emit no luminous rays, as heated, but not
ignited iron or stone, or hot water, or the like;
and observe whether the heat become increased
and condensed, as happens with the solar rays.
Seventh negative to the second affirmative.
Let it be tried on common flame.
Eighth negative to the third affirmative.
The effect of comets, (if we can reckon them
amongst meteors,) in augmenting the heat of the
season, is not found to be constant or clear, al-
though droughts have generally been observed to
follow them. However, luminous lines, and pil
*For the construction of Bacon's thermometer see No. 39
in the table of the degrees of heat. It serves also as a ba
rometer, but is inaccurate in both capacities.
Book II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
3T7
lars, and openinfrs, and the like, appear more
often in winter than in summer, and especially
with the most intense cold, but joined with
droujrht. Li</iitnin(r, and coruscations, and thun-
der, however, rarely happen in winter, and gene-
rally at the time of the greatest heats. The
appearances we term falling stars, are generally
Bunposed to consist of some shining and enflamed
viscous substance, rather than of violently hot
matter. But let this be further investigated.
Ninth negative to the fourth affirmative.
Some coruscations emit light without burning;
but are never accompanied by thunder.
Tenth negative to the fifth affirmative.
Eructations and eruptions of flame are to be
found in cold climates as well as in hot, as in
Iceland and Greenland; just as the trees of cold
countries are sometimes inflammable, and more
pitchy and resinous than in warm ; as the fir, pine,
and the like. But the position and nature of the
soil, where such eruptions are wont to happen, is
not yet sufficiently investigated to enable us to
subjoin a negative instance to the affirmative.
Eleventh negative to the sixth affirmative.
All flame is constantly more or less warm, and
this instance is not altogether negative. Yet, it
is said, that the ignis fatuus, (as it is called,) and
which sometimes is driven against walls, has but
little heat ; perhaps it resembles that of spirits of
wine, which is mild and gentle. That flame,
however, appears yet milder, which, in some well
authenticated and serious histories, is said to have
appeared round the head and hair of boys and vir-
gins, and instead of burning their hair, merely to
have played about it. And it is most certain
that a sort of flash, without any evident heat, has
sometimes been seen about a horse when sweat-
ing at night, or in damp weather. It is also a
well known fact,* and it was almost considered
as a miracle, that, a few years since, a girl's apron
sparkled when a little shaken or rubbed ; which
was, perhaps, occasioned by the alum or salts
with which the apron was imbued, and which,
after having been stuck together and incrusted
rather strongly, were broken by the friction. It
is well known that all sugar, whether candied or
plain, if it be hard, will sparkle when broken or
scraped in the dark. In like manner sea and salt
water is sometimes found to shine at night when
struck violently by the oar. The foam of the sea,
when agitated by tempests, also sparkles at night,
and the Spaniards call this appearance the sea's
lungs. It has not been sufficiently ascertained
what degree of heat attends the flame which the
ancient sailors called Castor and Pollux, and the
moderns call St. Ermus's fire.
* Wag it a silk apron, which will exhibit electric sparks*
but silk was then scarce.
Vol. III.— 48
Twelfth ncKatlve to the seventh affirmalivp.
Every ignited body that is red-hot is always
warm, altliough without flame, nor is any nega-
tive instance subjoined to this affirmative. Rot-
ten wood, however, approaches nearly to it, for it
shines at night, and yet is not found to be warm ;
and the putrefying scales of fish, which shine in
the same manner, are not warm to the touch, nor
the body of the glow-worm, or of the fly called
lucciola.*
Thirteenth negative to the eighth affirmative.
The situation and nature of the soil of natural
warm baths has not been sufficiently investigated,
and, therefore, a negative instance is not subjoined.
Fourteenth negative to the ninth affirmative.
To the instances of warm liquids we may sub-
join the negative one of the peculiar nature of li-
quids in general. For no tangible liquid is known
that is at once warm in its nature and constantly
continues warm ; but their heat is only superin-
duced as an adventitious nature for a limited time ;
so that those which are extremely warm in their
power and effisct, as spirits of wine, chymical
aromatic oils, the oils of vitriol and sulphur, and
the like, and which speedily burn, are yet cold at
first to the touch, and the water of natural baths,
poured into any vessel and separated from its
source, cools down like water heated by the fire.
It is, however, true, that oily substances are ra-
ther less cold to the touch than those that are
aqueous, oil for instance than water, silk than
linen ; but this belongs to the table of degrees of
cold.
Fifteenth negative to the tenth affirmative.
In like manner we may subjoin a negative in-
stance to that of warm vapour, derived from the
nature of vapour itself; as far as we are acquainted
with it. For exhalations from oily substances,
though easily inflammable, are yet never warm
unless recently inhaled from some warm substance.
Sixteenth negative to the tenth affirmative.
The same may be said of the instance of air.
For we never perceive that air is warm, unless
confined or pressed, or manifestly heated by the
sun, by fire, or some other warm body.
Seventeenth negative to the eleventh affirmative.
A negative instance is exhibited in weather by
its coldness with an east or north wind, beyond
what the season would lead us to expect ; ]ust as
the contrary takes place with the south or west
winds. An inclination to rain (especially in win-
ter) attends warm weather, and to frost cold wea-
ther.
Eighteenth negative to the twelfth affirmative.
A negative instance as to air confined in caverns
* The Italian fire-fly.
2i2
378
NOVUM ORGAXUM.
jooK n.
may be observed in summer. Indeed we should
make a more diligent intjuiry into the nature of
confined air. For, in the first place, the qualities
of air in its own nature with regard to heat and
ccld, may reasonably be the subject of doubt.
For air evidently derives its heat from the effects
of celestial bodies, and possibly its cold from the
exhalation of the earth, and in the mid region of
air ^as it is termed) from cold vapours and snow,
so that no judgment can be formed of the nature
of air by that which is out of doors and exposed,
but a more correct one might be derived from con-
fined air. It is necessary, however, that the air
should be enclosed in a vessel of such materials
as would not imbue it with heat or cold of them-
selves, nor easily admit the influence of the exter-
ternal atmosphere. The experiment should be
made therefore with an earthen jar, covered with
folds of leather to protect it from the external air,
and the air should be kept three or four days in
this vessel well closed. On opening the jar, the
degree of heat may be ascertained either by the
hand or a graduated glass tube.
Nineteenth negative to the thirteenth affirmative.
There is a similar doubt as to whether the
warmth of wool, skins, feathers, and the like, is
derived from a slight inherent heat, since they are
animal excretions, or from their being of a certain
fat and oily nature that accords with heat, or
merely from the confinement and separation of
air which we spoke of in the preceding para-
graph.* For all air appears to possess a certain
degree of warmth when separated from the exter-
nal atmosphere. Let an experiment be made,
therefore, with fibrous substances of linen, and not
of wjol, feathers, or silk, which are animal ex-
cretions. For It is to be observed that all pow-
ders (where air is manifestly enclosed) are less
cold than the substances when whole, just as we
imagine froth (which contains air) to be less cold
than the liquid itself.
Twentieth negative to the fourteenth affirmative.
We have here no exactly negative instance, for
we are not acquainted with any body tangible or
spirituous which does not admit of heat when ex-
posed to the fire. There is, however, this differ-
ence, that some admit it more rapidly, as air, oil,
and water, others more slowly, as stone and me-
tals.f This, however, belongs to the table of
degrees.
Twenty-first negative to the fifteenth affirmative.
No negative is here subjoined, except the re-
• This last is found to be the real air not being a good con-
ductor, and therefore not allowing tlie escape of heat. The
coiitlned air is disengaged when these substances are placed
I'nder an exhausted receiver.
+ This is erroneous. Air, in fact, is one of the worst, and
Oietais are the best conductors of heat.
mark that sparks are not kindled by flint and steel,
or any other hard substance, unless some small
particles of the stone or metal are struck off, and
that the air never forms them by friction, as is
commonly supposed ; besides, the sparks from the
weight of the ignited substance, have a tendency
to descend rather than to rise, and when extin-
guished become a sort of dark ash.
Twenty-second negative to the sixteenth affirmative.
We are of opinion that here again there is nc
negative. For we are not acquainted with any
tangible body which does not become decidedly
warm by friction, so that the ancients feigned that
the gods had no other means or power of creating
heat than the friction of air, by rapid and violent
rotation. On this point, however, further inquiry
must be made, whether bodies projected by ma-
chines (as balls from cannon) do not derive some
degree of heat from meeting the air, which renders
them somewhat warm when they fall. The air
in motion rather cools than heats, as in the winds,
the bellows, or breath when the mouth is con-
tracted. The motion, however, in such instances
is not sufficiently rapid to excite heat, and is ap-
plied to a body of air and not to its component
parts, so that it is not surprising that heat should
not be generated.
Twenty-third negative to the seventeenth affirmative.
We must make a more diligent inquiry into this
instance. For herbs, and green and moist vege-
tables appear to possess a latent heat, so small,
however, as not to be perceived by the touch in
single specimens, but when they are united and
confined, so that their spirit cannot exhale into the
air, and they rather warm each other, their heat is
at once manifested, and even flame occasionally
in suitable substances.
Twenty-fourth negative to the eighteenth affirmative.
Here, too, we must make a more diligent
inquiry. For quicklime, when sprinkled with
water, appears to conceive heat, either from its
being collected into one point, (as we observed of
herbs when confined,) or from the irritation and
exasperation of the fiery spirit by water, which
occasions a conflict and struggle. The true reason
will more readily be shown if oil be used instead
of water, for oil will equally tend to collect the
confined spirit, but not to irritate. The experi-
ment may be made more general, both by using
the ashes and calcined products of different bodies,
and by pouring different liquids upon them.
Twenty-fifth negative to the nineteenth affirmative.
A negative instance may be subjoined of other
metals which are more soft and soluble. For leaf
gold dissolved by aqua regia, or lead by aqua
fortis, are not warm to the touch whilst dissolving,
no more is quicksilver, (as far as I remember,) but
Book II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
370
silver excites a slight heat, and so does copper, !
and tin yet more plainly, and most of all, iron and
Bteel, which excite not only a powerful heat, but a
violent bubbling. The heat, therefore, appears to
be occasioned by the struggle which takes place
when these strong dissolvents penetrate, dig into,
and tear asunder the parts of those substances,
wriiist the substances themselves resist. When,
however, the substances yield more easily,
scarcely any heat is excited.
Twenty-sixth negative to the twentieth affirmative.
There is no negative instances with regard to
the heat of animals, except in insects, (as has been
observed,) owing to their small size. For, in
fishes, as compared with land animals, a lower
degree rather than a deprivation of heat is ob-
servable. In plants and vegetables, both as to
their exudations and pith when freshly exposed,
there is no sensible degree of heat. But in ani-
mals there is a great ditference in the degree, both
in particular parts, (for the heat varies near the
heart, the brain, and the extremities,) and in the
circumstances in which they are placed, such as
violent exercise and fevers.
Twenty-seventh negative to twenty-first affirmative.
Here again there is scarcely a negative instance.
I might add that the excrements of animals, even
when they are no longer fresh, possess evidently
some effective heat, as is shown by their enrich-
ing the soil.
Twenty-eighth negative to the twenty-second and twenty-
tl\\Td affirmative.
Such liquids (whether oily or watery) as are
intensely acrid, exhibit the effects of heat, by the
separation and burning of bodies after some little
action upon them, yet they are not at first warm
to the touch. But they act according to their
affinity and the pores of the substances to which
they are applied. For aqua regia dissolves gold,
but not silver, on the contrary, aqua fortis dis-
solves silver, but not gold; neither of them dis-
solves glass, and so of the rest.
Twenty-ninth negative to twenty-fourth affirmative.
Let spirits of wine be tried on wood, or butter,
wax, or pitch, to see if this will melt them at all
by their heat. For the 21th instance shows that
they possess properties resembling those of heat
in causing incrustation. Let an experiment also
be made with a graduated glass or calendar,* con-
cave at the top, by pouring well rectified spirits
of wine into the cavity, and covering it up in order
that they may the better retain their heat, then ob-
serve whether their heat make the water descend.
Thirtieth negative to twenty-fifth affirmative.
Spices and acrid herbs are sensibly warm to the
* See No 3'^, in thp table of the degrees of heat.
palate, and still more so when taken internally.
One should see, therefore, on what other suk
stances they exhibit the effects of heat. Now,
sailors tell us that when large quantities of spices
are suddenly opened, after having been shut up
for some time, there is some danger of fever and
inflammation to those who stir them or take tiieni
out. An experiment might therefore be made
whether such spices and herbs when ])roduced
will, like smoke, dry fish and meat hung up over
them.
Thirty-first negative to twenty-sixth affirmative.
There is an acrid effect, and a degree of pene-
tration in cold liquids, such as vinegar and oil of
vitriol, as well as in warm, such as oil of marjo-
ram and the like. They have, therefore, an equal
effect in causing animated substances to smart,
and separating and consuming inanimate parts.
There is not any negative instance as to this, nor
does there exist any animal pain unaccompanied
by the sensation of heat.
Tliirty-second negative to twenty-seventh affirmative.
There are many effects common to cold and
heal, however different in their process. For,
snow balls appear to burn boys' hands after a
little time, and cold no less than fire preserves
bodies from putrefaction, besides, both heat and
cold contract bodies. But it is better to refer
these instances and the like to the investigation
of cold.
(13j In the third place, we must exhibit to tlio
understanding the instances in which that nature,
which is the object of our inquiries, is present in
a greater or less degree, either by comparing its
increase and decrease in the same object, or its
degree in different objects. For, since the form
of a thing is its very essence, and the thing only
differs from its form as the apparent from the
actual object, or the exterior from the interior, or
that which is considered with relation to man
from that which is considered with relation to the
universe; it necessarily follows that no nature
can be considered a real form, which does not
uniformly diminish and increase with the given
nature. We are wont to call this our table of
degrees or comparative instances.
Table of the Degrees or Comparative Instances i>f
Heat.
We will first speak of ttiose bodies which ex-
hibit no degree of heat sensible to the touch, but
appear rather to possess a potential heat, or dis-
position and preparation for it. We will then go
on to others, which are actually warm to the
touch, and observe the strength and degree of it.
1. There is no known solid or tangible body
which is by its own nature originally warm
For neither stone, metal, sulphur, fossils, wood
water, nor dead animal carcasses, are found warm.
380
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book II.
The warm springs in baths appear to be heated
accidentally, by Hame, subterraneous fire, (such
as is thrown up by Etna and many other moun-
tains,) or by the contact of certain bodies, as
heat is exhibited in the dissolution of iron and
tin. The degree of heat, therefore, in inanimate
objects is not sensible to our touch, but they dif-
fer in their degrees of cold, for wood and metal
are not equally cold. This, however belongs to
the table of degrees of cold.
2. But with regard to potential heat and pre-
disposition to flame, we find many inanimate
substances wonderfully adapted to it ; as sulj)hur,
naplitiia, and saltpetre.
3. Bodies wliich have previously acquired heat,
as horse-dung from the animal, or lime, and per-
haps ashes or soot from fire, retain some latent
portion of it. Hence distillations and separations
of substances are effected by burying them in
horse-dung, and heat is excited in lime by sprin-
kling it with water, (as has been before observed.)
4. In the vegetable world we know of no plant,
nor part of any plant, (as the exudations or pith)
that is warm to man's touch. Yet, as we have
before observed, green weeds grow warm when
confined, and some vegetables are warm and
others cold to our internal touch, i. e. the palate
and stomach, or even, after a while, to our external
bkin, (as is shown in plasters and ointments.)
5. We know of nothing in the various parts
of animals, when dead or detached from the rest,
that is warm to the touch. For horse-dung itself
does not retain its heat, unless it be confined and
buried. All dung, however, appears to possess
a potential heat, as in manuring fields. So, also,
dead bodies are endued with this latent and po-
tential heat, to such a degree that, in cemete-
ries where people are interred daily, the earth
acquires a secret heat which consumes any re-
cently deposited body much sooner than pure
earth : and they tell you that the people of the
East are acquainted with a fine soft cloth, made
of the down of birds, which can melt butter
wrapt gently up in it by its own warmth.
6. Manures, such as every kind of dung, chalk,
sea-sand, salt, and the like, have some disposition
towards heat.
7. All putrefaction exhibits some slight degree
of heat, though not enough to be perceptible by
the touch. For, neither the substances, which
by putrefaction are converted into animalcules, as
flesh and cheese, nor rotten wood, which shines
in the dark, are warm to the touch. The heat,
however, of putrid substances displays itself oc-
casionally in a disgusting and strong scent.
8. The first degree of heat, therefore, in sub-
stances which are warm to the human touch, ap-
pears to be that of animals, and this admits of a
great variety of degrees, for the lowest (as in in-
bects) is scarcely perceptible, the highest scarcely
equals that of the sun's rays in warm climates
and weather, and is not so acute as to be insuffera-
ble to the hand. It is said, however, of Constan-
tius, and some others of a very dry constitution
and habit of body, that when attacked with violent
fevers, they became so warm as to appear almost
to burn the hand applied to them.
9. Animals become more warm by motion and
exercise, wine and feasting, venery, burning
fevers, and grief.
10. In the paroxysm of intermittent fevers the
patients are at first seized with cold and shivering,
but soon afterwards become more heated than at
first; in burning and pestilential fevers they are
hot from the beginning.
11. Let further inquiry be made into the
comparative heat of different animals, as fishes,
quadrupeds, serpents, birds : and also of the
different species, as the lion, the kite, or man.
For, according to the vulgar opinion, fishes are
the least warm internally, and birds the most;
particularly doves, hawks, and ostriches.
12. Let further inquiry be made as to the com-
parative heat in different parts and limbs of the
same animal. For milk, blood, seed, and eggs
are moderately warm, and less hot than the out-
ward flesh of the animal when in motion or
agitated. The degree of heat of the brain,
stomach, heart, and the rest, has not yet been
equally well investigated.
13. All animals are externally cold in winter
and cold weather, but are thought to be internally
warmer.
14. The heat of the heavenly bodies, even in
the warmest climates and seasons, never reaches
such a pitch as to light or burn the dryestwood
or straw, or even tinder without the aid of burning-
glasses. It can, however, raise vapour from
moist substances.
15. Astronomers tell us that some stars are
hotter than others. Mars is considered the
warmest after the sun, then Jupiter, then Venus.
The moon and, above all, Saturn are considered
to be cold. Among the fixed stars, Sirius is
thought the warmest, then Cor Leonis, or Regu-
lus, then the lesser dog-star.
The sun gives out more heat as it approaches
towards the perpendicular or zenith, which may
be supposed to be the case with the other planets
according to their degree of heat; for instance,
that .lupiter gives out more heat when situated
beneath Cancer or Leo, than when he is beneath
Capricorn and Aquarius.
17. It is to be supposed that the sun and other
planets give more heat in perigee, from their ap-
proximation to the earth, than when in apogee.
But if in any country the sun should be both in
its perigee and nearer to the perpendicular at the
same time, it must necessarily give out more heat
than in a country where it is also in perigee, but
situated more obliquely. So that the comparative
altitude of the planets should be observed, and
Book II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
881
thfir approach to or declination from liie perpen-
dicular ip dillVirent countries. I
i^. Tlie sun* and other planets are thought
also to give OMt more heat in proportion as they
are nearer to \he larger fixed stars ; as when the
sun is in Leo he is nearer Cor Leonis, Cauda
I.eonis, Spica Virginis, Sirius, and the lesser
dog-star, than when he is in Cancer, where, how- ,
ever, he approaches nearer to the perpendicular.
It is probable also that the quarters of the hea-
vens produce a greater heat (though not percepti-
bly) in proportion as they are adorned with a
greater number of stars, particularly those of the
first magnitude.
19. On the whole, the heat of the heavenly
bodies is augmented in three ways: 1. The ap-
proach to the perpendicular; 2. Proximity or their
perigee ; 3. The conjunction or union of stars.
20. There is a very considerable difference be-
tween the degree of heat in animals, and even in
the rays of the heavenly bodies, (as they reach
us,) and the heat of the most gentle flame, and
even of all ignited substances, nay, liquids, or the
air itself, when unusually heated by fire. For the
flame of spirit of wine, though diffused and un-
collected, is yet able to set straw, linen, or paper
on fire, which animal heat, or that of the sun, will
never accomplisii without a burning-glass.
21. There are, however, many degrees of
strength and weakness in flame and ignited bodies :
but no diligent inquiry has been made in this
respect, and we must, therefore, pass it hastily
over. Of all flames, that of spirits of wine appears
to be the most gentle, except, perhaps, the ignis
fatuus, or the flashes from the perspiration of ani-
mals. After this we should be inclined to place
the flame of light and porous vegetables, such as
straw, reeds, and dried leaves ; from which the
flame of hair or feathers differs but little. Then,
perhaps, comes the flame of wood, particularly
that which contains but little rosin or pitch, that
of SMiall wood, however, (such as is usually tied
up in fagots,) is milder than that of the trunks
or roots of trees. This can be easily tried in iron
furnaces, where a fire of fagots or branches of
trees is of little service. Next follows the flame
of oil tallow, wax, and the like oily and fiit sub-
stances, which are not very violent. But a most
powerful heat is found in pitch and rosin, and a
siiU greater in sulphur, caniphire, naphtha, salt-
petre, and salts, (after they have discharged their
crude matter,) and in their compounds; as in
gunpowder, Greek fire, (vulgarly called wild
file,) and its varieties, which possess such a
Btubborn heat as scarcely to be extinguished by
water.
22. We consider that the flame which results
* This notion is erronpoiifi, hiit fhp »nn is In Leo about
Aiifiiisl. whon the earth has bernme healfd by the nrciiniiila-
tion of heat alter the so1«lice. The iiiaxiniiim of heat in the
Jay is iiotat noon, but about two o'clrjtk, for the ianie reanoii.
from some imperfect metals is very strong and
active : but on all these points further inquiry
should be made.
23. The flame of vivid lightning appears to ex-
ceed all the above, so as sometimes to have melt-
ed even wrought iron into drops, which the other
flames cannot accomplish.
21. In ignited bodies there are different degrees
of heat, concerning which also a diligent inquiry
has not been made. We consider the faintest
heat to be that of tinder, touchwood, and dry rope
match, such as is used for discharging cannon.
Next follows that of ignited charcoal, or cinders,
and even bricks, and the like ; but the most vio-
lent is that of ignited metals, as iron, copper, and
the like. Further inquiry, however, must be
made into this also.
25. Some ignited bodies are found to be much
warmer than some flames ; for instance, red-hot
iron is much warmer, and burns more than the
flame of spirits of wine.
2G. Some bodies even not ignited, but only
heated by the fire, as boiling water, and the air
confined in reverheratories, surpass in heat many
flames and ignited substances.
27. Motion increases heat, as is shown in the
bellows and the blow-pipe, for the harder metals
are not dissolved or melted by steady, quiet fire,
without the aid of the blow-pipe.
28. Let an experiment be made with burning-
glasses ; in which respect I have observed, that
if a glass be placed at the distance of ten inches,
for instance, from the combustible object, it docs
not kindle or burn it so readily as if the glass be
placed at the distance of five inches, (for instance,)
and be then gradually and slowly withdrawn to
the distance of ten inches. The cone and focus
of the rays, however, are the same, but the mere
motion increases the effect of the heat.
29. Conflagrations, which take place with a
high wind, are thought to make greater way
against than with the wind, because, when the
wind slackens, the flame recoils more rapidly than
it advances, when the wind is favourable.
30. Flame does not burst out or arise unless it
have some hollow space to move and exert itself
in, except in the exploding flame of gunpowder
i and the like, where the compression and confine-
j ment of the flame increases its fury.
31. The anvil becomes so hot by the hammer,
that if it were a thin plate, it might probably
grow red, like ignited iron, by repeated strokes.
Let the experiment be tried.
32. But in ignited bodies that are porous, so as
to leave room for the fire to move itself, if its
j motion he prevented by strong compression, the
I fire is immediately extinguished ; thus it is witii
tinder, or the burning snutT of a candle or lamp,
or even hot charcoal cinders, for when they are
squeezed by snuffers, or the foot, and the like
the effect of the fire instantly ceases.
NOVUM ORCANUM.
Book II,
33 The approach towards a hot body, increases
heat in proportion to the approximation ; a simi-
lar effect to that of light, for the nearer any object
IS placed towards the light, the more visible it
hecomes.
34. The* union of different heats increases
heat, unless the substances be mixed. For a large
and small fire in the same spot, tend mutually to
increase each other's heat, but lukewarm water
poured into boiling water cools it.
35. The continued neighbourhood of a warm
body increases heat. For the heat, which per-
petually passes and emanates from it, being mix-
ed with that which preceded it, multiplies the
whole. A fire, for instance, does not warm a
room in half an hour as much as the same fire
would in an hour. This does not apply to light,
for a lamp or candle placed in any spot, gives no
more light by remaining there, than it did at first.
36. The irritation of surrounding cold increases
heat, as may be seen in fires during a sharp frost.
We think that this is owing not merely to the
confinement and compression of the heat, (which
forms a sort of union;) but also by the exaspera-
tion of it, as when the air or a stick are violently
compressed or bent, they recoil, not only to the
point they first occupied, but still further back.
Let an accurate experiment, therefore, be made
with a stick, or something of the kind, put into
the flame, in order to see whether it be not sooner
burnt at the sides than in the middle of it.j-
37. There are many degrees in the susceptibi-
lity of heat. And, first, it must be observed how
much a low, gentle heat changes and partially
warms even the bodies least susceptible of it. For
even the heat of the hand imparts a little warmth
to a ball of lead or other metal held a short time
.n it. So easily is heat transmitted and excited,
without any apparent change in the body.
38. Of all bodies that we are acquainted with,
air admits and loses heat the most readily, which
is admirably seen in weather-glasses, whose con-
struction is as follows. Take a glass with a hol-
low belly, and a thin and long neck ; turn it up-
side down, and place it with its mouth downwards
into another glass vessel containing water ; the
end of the tube touching the bottom of the vessel,
and the tube itself leaning a little on the edge, so
as to be fixed upright. In order to do this more
readily, let a little wax be applied to the edge, not,
however, so as to block up the orifice, lest by pre-
venting the air from escaping, the motion, which
* The fires supply fresh heat, the water has only a certain
quantity of heat, which being diffused over a fresh supply
of cooler water, must be, on the whole, lowered.
t If condensation were the cause of the greater heat, Ba-
ttin concludes the centre of the flaine would he the hotter
part, and vice versa. The fact is, neither of the causes as-
signed by Bacon is the true one ; for the fire burns more
quickly only because the draught of air is more rapid, the
rold, dense air pressing rapidly into the heated room and to-
ivards the chin.ney.
we shall presently speak of, and which is very
gentle and delicate, should be impeded.
Before the first glass be inserted in the other,
its upper part (the belly) should be warmed at the
fire. Then upon placing it as we have described,
the air, (which was dilated by the heat,) after a
sufficient time has been allowed for it to lo.se the
additional temperature, will restore and contract
itself to the same dimensions as that of the exter-
nal or common atmosphere at the moment of im-
mersion, and the water will be attracted upwards
in the tube to a proportionate extent. A long, nar-
row slip of paper should be attached to the tube,
divided into as many degrees as you please. You
will then perceive, as the weather grows warmer
or colder, that the air contracts itself into a nar-
rower space in cold weather, and dilates in the
warm, which will be exhibited by the rising of
*he water as the air contracts itself, and its de-
pression as the air dilates. The sensibility of the
air with regard to heat or cold is so delicate and
exquisite, that it far exceeds the human touch, so
that a ray of sunshine, the heat of the breath, and,
much more, that of the hand placed on the top of
the tube, immediately causes an evident depres-
sion of the water. "We think, however, that the
spirit of animals possesses a much more delicate
susceptibility of heat and cold, only that it is im-
peded and blunted by the grossness of their bodies.
39. After air we consider those bodies to be
most sensible of heat, which have been recently
changed and contracted by cold, as snow and ice ;
for they begin to be dissolved and melt with the
first mild weather. Next, perhaps, follows quick-
silver ; then greasy substances, as oil, butter, and
the like ; then wood ; then water ; lastly, stones
and metals, which do not easily grow hot, parti-
cularly towards their centre.* When heated,
however, they retain their temperature for a very
longtime; so that a brick or stone, or hot iron
plunged in a basin of cold water, and kept there
for a quarter of an hour or thereabouts, retains such
a heat as not to admit of being touched.
40. The less massive the body is, the more
readily it grows warm at the approach of a heated
body, which shows that heat with us is somewhat
averse to a tangible mass.f
41. Heat, with regard to the human senses and
touch, is various and relative, so that lukewarm
* Bacon appears to have confounded combustibility ana
fusibility with susceptibility of heat; for, though the metals
will certainly neither dissolve as soon as ice or butter, nor be
consumed as soon as wood, that only shows that ditferent
degrees of heat are required to produce similar efl'ects on dif-
ferent bodies ; but metals much more readily acquire and
transmit the same degree of heat than any of the above fsyb-
stances. The rapid transmission renders them generally cold
to the touch. The convenience of fixing wooden handles to
vessels containing hot water illustrates these observations.
+ Another singular error, the truth being that solid bodies
are the best conductors; but of course where heat is difl^used
over a large mass, it is less in each part, than if that pa:ial.«»
alone received the whole quantum of heat.
Book II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
3^S
water appears hot if theliaiiJ be told, and col.l if
tlie hand be hot.
Jlph. 14.
Any one may readily see how poor we are in
history, since in the above tables, besides occa-
sionally inserting traditions and report instead of
approved history and authentic instances, (always,
however, adding some note if their credit or au-
thority be doubtful,) we are often forced to subjoin,
" Let the experiment be tried." — " Let further
inquiry be made."
15. .We are wont to term the office and use of these
three tables, the presenting a review of instances
to the understanding; and when this has been
done, induction itself is to be brought into action.
For on an individual review of all the instances,
a nature is to be found, such as always to be pre-
sent and absent with the given nature, to increase
and decrease with it, and as we have said, to form
a more common limit of the nature. If the mind
attempt this affirmatively from the first, (which it
always will when left to itself,) there will spring
up phantoms, mere theories and ill-defined no-
tions, with axioms requiring daily correction.
These will, doubtless, be better or worse, accord-
ing to the power and strength of the understand-
ing which creates them. But it is only for God,
(the bestower and creator of forms,) and perhaps
for angels and intelligences, at once to recognise
forms afl[irmdtively, at the first glance of contem-
plation : man at least is unable to do so, and is
only allowed to proceed first by negatives, and
then to conclude with affirmatives, after every
species of exclusion.
16. We must therefore effect a complete solu-
tion and separation of nature ; not by fire, but by
the mind, that divine fire. The first work of
legitimate induction, in the discovery of forms,
is rejection, or the exclusive instances of indi-
vidual natures, which are not found in some one
instance, where the given nature is present, or are
found in any one instance where it is absent, or
are found to increase in any one instance where
the given nature decreases, or the reverse. After
an exclusion correctly effected, an affirmative form
will remain as the residuum, solid, true, and well
defined, whilst all volatile opinions go off in
smoke. This is readily said, but we must arrive
at it by a circuitous route. We shall, perhaps,
however, omit nothing that can facilitate our pro-
gress.
17. The first and almost perpetual precaution
and warning which we consider necessary is this :
that none should suppose from the great part as-
signed by us to forms, that we mean such forms
as the meditations and thoughts of men have
hitherto been accustomed to. In the first place,
we do not at present mean the concrete forms,
which (as we have observed) are in the common
course of things compounded of simple natures.
as those of a lion, an eagle, a rose, gold, or tha
like. The moment for discussing these will ar-
rive, when we come to treat of the latent process,
and latent conformation and the discovery of them
as they exist in vvnai are called substances, or
concrete natures.
Nor, again, would we be thought to mean (even
when treating of simple natures) any abstract
forms or ideas, cither undefined or badly defined
in matter. For when we speak of forms, we
mean nothing else than those laws and regula-
tions of simple action, which arrange and con-
stitute any simple nature, such as heat, light,
weight, in every species of matter, and in a sus-
ceptible subject. The form of heat, or form of
light, therefore, means no more than the law of
heat, or the law of light. Nor do we ever ab-
stract or withdraw ourselves from things, and the
operative branch of philosophy. When, there-
fore, we say, (for instance,) in our investigation
of the form of heat, reject rarity, or rarity is not
of the form of heat, it is the same as if we were
to say, " Man can superinduce heat on a dense
body," or the reverse, " Man cari'abstract or ward
off heat from a rare body."
But if our forms appear to any one to be some-
what abstracted, from their mingling and uniting
heterogeneous objects, (the heat, for instance, of
the heavenly bodies, appears to be very different
from that of fire ; the fixed red of t'ae rose and the
like, from that which is apparent in the rainbow,
or the radiation of opal or the diamond;* death
by drowning, from that by burning, the sword,
apoplexy, or consumption; and yet they all agree
in the common natures of heat, redness, anc
death,) let him be assured that his understanding
is enthralled by habit, by general appearances and
hypotheses. For it is most certain that, howevei
heterogeneous and distinct, they agree in the form
or law which regulates heat, redness, (>r death;
and that human power cannot be emancipated and
freed from the common course of nature, and ex-
panded and exalted to new efficients and new
modes of operation, except by the revelation and
invention of forms of this nature. But afterf this
union of nature, which is the principal point, we
will afterwards, in its proper place, treat of the
divisions and ramifications of nature, whether
ordinary or internal, or more real.
18. We must now offer an example of the ex-
clusion or rejection of natures, found by the tables
of review, not to be of the form of heat; first,
premising, that not only each table is suflicienl
for the rejection of any nature, but even each sin
gle instance contained in them. For it is cleai
from what has been said, that every contradictory
♦ This peneral law or form, has been well illustrated by
Newton's discovery of the decomposition of colours.
+ i. e. the common link or form whichronnects the various
kinds of natures, such as the different hot or red natures
enumerated above. See Aphorism "i Part 2.
884
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book II.
instance destroys an hypothesis as to the form, |
{Still, however, for the sake of clearness, and in i
order to show more plainly the use of the tables, '
we redouble or repeat the exclusive.
jJn Example of the exclusive Table, or of the Rejec-
tion of Natures from the Form of Heat.
1. On account of the sun's rays reject element-
ary (or terrestrial) nature.
2. On account of common fire, and particularly
subterranean fires, (which are the most remote
and secluded from the rays of the heavenly
bodies,) reject celestial nature.
3. On account of the heat acquired by every
description of substances, (as minerals, vegeta-
bles, the external parts of animals, water, oil,
air, &c.) by mere approximation to the fire or any
warm body, reject all variety and delicate texture
of bodies.
4. On account of iron and ignited metals,
which warm other bodies, and yet neither lose
their weight nor substance, reject the imparting
or mixing of the substance of the heating body.
5. On account of boiling water and air, and
also those metals and other solid bodies which
are heated, but not to ignition, or red heat, reject
flame or light.
6. On account of the rays of the moon and
other heavenly bodies, (except the sun,) again
reject flame or light.
7. On account of the comparison between red-
hot iron and the flame of spirits of wine, (for the
iron is more hot and less bright, whilst the flame
of spirits of wine is more bright and less hot,)
again reject flume and light.
8. On account of gold and other ignited metals,
which are of the greatest specific density, reject
rarity.
9. On account of air, which is generally found
to be cold and yet continues rare, reject rarity.
10. On account of ignited iron,* which does
not swell in bulk, but retains the same apparent
dimension, reject the absolute expansive motion
of the whole.
11. On account of the expansion of the air in
thermometers, and the like, which is absolutely
moved and expanded to the eye, and yet acquires
no manifest increase of heat, again reject absolute
or expansive motion of the whole.
12. On account of the ready application of
heat to all substances, without any destruction or
remarkable alteration of them, reject destructive
nature or the violent communication of any new
nature.
13. On account of the agreement and conform-
ity of the effects produced by cold and heat,
reject both expansive and contracting motion as
legards the whole.
14. On account of the heat excited by friction,
• This is erroneous : all inetals expand considerably when
keau>d
reject principal nature, by which we mean that
which exists positively, and is not caused by a
preceding nature.
There are other natures to be rejected ; but we
are merely offering examples, and not perfect
tables.
None of the above natures are of the form of
heat; and man is freed from them all in his ope-
ration upon heat.
Jlph. 19.
In the exclusive table are laid the foundations
of true induction, which is not, however, com-
pleted until the aflirmative be attained. Nor is
the exclusive table perfect, nor can it be so at
first. For it is clearly a rejection of simple
natures; but if we have not as yet good and just
notions of simple natures, how can the exclusive
table be made correct 1 Some of the above, as
the notion of elementary and celestial nature
and rarity, are vague and ill-defined. We,
therefore, who are neither ignorant nor forgetful
of the great work which we attempt, in rendering
the human understanding adequate to things and
nature, by no means rest satisfied with what we
have hitherto enforced ; but push the matter far-
.ther, and contrive and prepare more powerful aid
for the use of the understanding, which we will
next subjoin. And, indeed, in the interpretation
of nature, the mind is to be so prepared and
formed, as to rest itself on proper degrees of cer-
tainty, and yet to remember, (especially at first,)
that what is present, depends much upon what
remains behind.
20. Since, however, truth emerges more readily
from error than confusion, we consider it useful
to leave the understanding at liberty to exert itself,
and attempt the interpretation of nature in the
affirmative, after having constructed and weighed
the three tables of preparation, such as we have
laid them down, both from the instances there
collected, and others occurring elsewhere. Which
attempt we are wont to call the liberty of the
understanding, or the commencement of interpre-
tation, or the first vintage.
The first Fintau;e of the Form of Heat.
It must be observed that the form of any thing
is inherent (as appears clearly from our premises)
in each individual instance in which the thing
itself is inherent, or it would not be a form. No
contradictory instance, therefore, can be alleged.
The form, however, is found to be much more
conspicuous and evident in some instances than
in others ; in those, for example, where its nature
is less restrained and embarrassed, and reduced
to rule by other natures. Such instances we art
wont to term coruscations, or conspicuous in
stances. We must proceed then to the first vin
tatre of the form of heat.
From the instances taken collectively, as weR
Book IT.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
385
AS sinirly, the nature whose limit is heat appears
lo be motion. This is chiefly exhibited in flame,
which is in constant motion, and in warm or
boiling li(]iiifls, which are likewise in constant
motion. It is also shown in the excitement or
increase of heat by motion, as by bellows and
draughts: for which see Inst. 29, Tab. 3, and by
other species of motion, as in Inst. 28 and 31,
Tab. 3. It is also shown by the extinction of
tire and heat upon any strong pressure, which
restrains and puts a stop to motion; for which
see Inst. 30 and 32, Tab. 3. It is further shown
by this circumstance, namely, that every sub-
stance is destroyed, or at least materially changed,
by strong and powerful fire and heat : whence it
is clear that tumult and confusion are occasioned
by heat, together with a violent motion in the
internal parts of bodies, and this gradually tends
to their dissolution.
What we have said with regard to motion must
be thus understood, when taken as the genus of
heat: it must not be thought that heat generates
motion, or motion heat, (though in some respects
this be true,) but that the very essence of heat,
or the substantial self* of heat, is motion and
nothing else, limited, however, by certain dif-
ferences which we will presently add, after giving
some cautions for avoiding ambiguity.
Sensible heat is relative, and regards man, not
the universe; and is rightly held to be merely the
effect of heat on animal spirit. It is even varia-
ble in itself, since the same body (in different
slates of sensations) excites the feeling of heat
and of cold ; this is shown by Inst. 41, Tab. 3.
Nor should we confound the communication of
heat or its transitive nature, by which a body
grows warm at the approach of a heated body,
with the form of heat. For heat is one thing,
and hcatins; another. Heat can be excited by
friction without any previous heating body, and,
therefore, heating is excluded from the form of
heat. Even when heat is excited by the approach
of a hot body, this depends not on the form of
heat, but on another more profound and common
nature; namely, that of assimilation and multi-
plication, about which a separate inquiry must be
made.
The notion of fire is vulgar, and of no assist-
ance ; it is merely compounded of the conjunction
of heat and light in any body, as in ordinary flame
and red-hot substances.
Laying aside all ambiguity, therefore, we must
lastly consider the true differences which limit
motion and render it the form of heat.
I. Thf^ first difference is, that heat is an expan-
sive motion, by which the body strives to dilate
itself, and to occupy a greater space than before.
This difference is principally seen in flame, where
the smoke or thick vapour is clearly dilated and
bursts into flame.
♦ " Quid ipmim," the rd rt J\v tlvai of Aristotle.
Vol. 1 11.-49
I It is also shown in all boiling liquids, which
swell, rise, and boil up to the sight, and the pro-
cess of expansion is urged forward till they are
converted into a much more extended atid dilated
body than the liquid itself, such as steam, smoke,
or air.
I It is also shown in wood, and combustibles
where exudation sometimes takes place, and eva-
I poration always.
It is also shown in the melting of metals,
which, being very compact, do not easily swell
and dilate, but yet their spirit, when dilated and
desirous of further expansion, forces and urges
its thicker parts into dissolution, and if the heat
be pushed still farther, reduces a considerable
part of them into a volatile state.
It is also shown in iron or stones, which,
though not melted or dissolved, are, however,
softened. The same circumstance takes place in
sticks of wood, which become flexible when a
little heated in warm ashes.
It is most readily observed in air, which in-
stantly and manifestly expands with a small
degree of heat, as in Inst. 38, Tab. 3.
It is also shown in the contrary nature of cold.
For cold contracts and narrows every substance;
so that, in intense frosts, nails fall out of the wall,
and brass cracks, and heated glass, exposed sud-
denly to the cold, cracks and breaks. So the air
by a slight degree of cold contracts itself, as in
Inst. 38, Tab. 3. More will be said of this in
the inquiry into cold.
Nor is it to be wondered at if cold and heat
exhibit many common effects, (for which see
Inst. 32, Tab. 2.) since two differences, of which
we shall presently speak, belong to each nature:
although in the present difference the effects be
diametrically opposed to each other. For heat
occasions an expansive and dilating motion, but
cold a contracting and condensing motion.
II. The second difference is a modification of
the preceding, namely, that heat is an expansive
motion, tending towards the exterior, but at the
same time bearing the body upwards. For there
is no doubt that there'be many compound motions ;
as an arrow or dart, for instance, has both a rota-
tory and progressive motion. In the same way
the motion of heat is both expansive and tending
upwards.
This difference is shown by putting the tongs
or poker into the fire. If placed perpendicularly
with the hand above, they soon burn it, but much
less speedily if the hand hfld them sloping ot
from below.
It is also conspicuous in distillations per desceii
sum, which men are wont to employ with delicate
flowers, whose scent easily evaporates. Their
industry has devised placing the fire above instead
of below, that it may scorch less. For not only
flame but all heat has an upward tendency
Let an experiment be made on the contrary
2K
386
NOVUM ORGAXUM.
Jooh II.
nature of cold ; whether its contraction be down-
wards, as the expansion of heat is upwards.
Tak", therefore, two iron rods or two glass tubes,
alike in other respects, and warm them a little,
and place a sponge, dipped in cold water, or some
snow below the one and above the other. We
are of opinion that the extremities will grow cold
in that rod first where it is placed beneath ; as
the contrary, takes place with regard to heat.
III. The third difference is this. That heat is
not a uniform expansive motion of the whole, but
of the small particles of the body; and this mo-
tion being at the same time restrained, repulsed,
and reflected, becomes alternating, perpetually
hurrying, striving, struggling, and irritated by the
repercussion ; which is the source of the violence
of flame and heat.
But this difference is chiefly shown in flame
and boiling liquids, which always hurry, swell,
and subside again in detached parts.
It is also shown in bodies of such hard texture
as not to swell or dilate in bulk, such as red-hot
iron, in which the heat is most violent.
It is also shown by the fires burning most
briskly in the coldest weather.
It is also shown by this; that when the air is
dilated in the thermometer uniformly and equably,
without any impediment or repulsion, the heat is
not perceptible. In confined draughts also, al-
though they break out very violently, no remark-
able heat is perceived, because the motion affects
the whole, without any alternating motion in the
particles. For which reason try whether flame
do not burn more at the sides than in its centre.
It is also shown in this, that all burning pro-
ceeds by the minute pores of bodies, undermining,
penetrating, piercing, and pricking them as if
with an infinite number of needlepoints. Hence
all strong acids (if adapted to the body on which
they act) exhibit the effects of fire from their
corroding and pungent nature.
The difference of which we now speak is com-
mon also to the nature of cold, in which the con-
tracting motion is restrained by the resistance of
expansion, as in heat the expansive motion is
restrained by the resistance of contraction.
Whether, therefore, the particles of matter
penetrate inwards or outwards, the reasoning is
the same, though the power be very different,
because we have nothing on earth which is in-
tensely cold.
IV. The fourth difference is a modification of
the preceding ; namely, that this stimulating or
penetrating motion should be rapid and never
sluggish, and should take place not in the very
minutest particles, but rather in those of some
tderable dimensions.
It is shown by comparing the effects of fire
With those of time. Time dries, consumes, under-
mines, and reduces to ashes as well as fire, and,
perhaps, to a much finer degree, but as its motion
is very slow, and attacks very minute particles,
no heat is perceived.
It is also shown in a comparison of the dis-
solution of iron and gold. For gold is dissolved
without the excitement of any heal, but iron with
a vehement excitement of it, although almost in
the same time : because, in the former, the pene-
tration of the separating acid is mild, and gently
insinuates itself, and the particles of gold yield
easily, but the penetration of iron is violent, and
attended with some struggle, and its particles are
more obstinate.
It is partially shown also in some gangrenes
and mortifications of flesh, which do not excite
great heat or pain from the gentle nature of the
putrefaction.
Let this suffice for a first vintage, or the com-
mencement of the interpretation of the form of heat
by the liberty of the understanding.
From this first vintage, the form or true defini.
tion of heat (considered relatively to the universe
and not to the sense) is briefly thus. "Heat is
an expansive motion, restrained and striving to
exert itself in the smaller particles." The expan-
sion is modified by " its tendency to rise though
expanding towards the exterior;" and the effort
is modified by its not being sluggish, but active
and somewhat violent.
With regard to the operative definition, the
matter is the same. "If you are able to excite a
dilating or expansive motion in any natural body,
and so to repress that motion and force it on itself
as not to allow the expansion to proceed equally,
but only to be partially exerted, and partially
repressed, you will, beyond all doubt, produce
heat ;" without any consideration as to whether
the body be of earth (or elementary, as they term
it) or imbued with celestial influence, luminous or
opaque, rare or dense, locally expanded or con-
tained within the bounds of its first dimensions,
verging to dissolution or remaining fixed, animal,
vegetable, or mineral, water, or oil, or air, or any
other substance whatever susceptible of such mo
tion. Sensible heat is the same, but consideres
relatively to the senses. Let us now proceed to
further helps.
21. After our tables of first review, our rejec-
tion or exclusive table and the first vintage de-
rived from them, we must advance to the remain-
I ing helps of the understanding with regard to the
I interpretation of nature, and a true and perfect
induction ; in offering which we will take the ex-
amples of cold and heat where tables are neces-
sary, but where fewer instances are required we
will go through a variety of others ; so as neither
to confound investigation nor to narrow our doc-
trine.
I In the first place, therefore, we will treat of
'prerogative instances; 2. Of the supports of in-
duction ; 3. Of the correction of induction ; 4. Of
varying the investigation according to the naturn
T300K II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
387
of the subject ; 5. Of the prerogative natures with
respect to investigation, or of what should be the
first or last objects of our research ; 6. Of the
limits of investigation, or a synopsis of all natures
that exist in the universe; 7. Of the application
to practical purposes, or of what relates to man ;
8. Of the preparations for investigation ; 9. And,
lastly, of the ascending and descending scale of
axioms.
22. Amongst the prerogative instances we will
first mention solitary instances. Solitary in-
stances are those which exhibit the required
nature in subjects that have nothing in common
with any other subject than the nature in ques-
tion ; or v/hich do not exhibit the required nature
in subjects resembling others in every respect
except that of the nature in question. For these
instances manifestly remove prolixity, and acce-
lerate and confirm exclusion, so that a few of
them are of as much avail as many.
For instance: let the inquiry be the nature of
colour: Prisms, crystalline gems, which yield
colours not only internally but on the wall, dews,
&c., are solitary instances. For they have nothing
in common with the fixed colours in flowers and
coloured gems, metals, woods, &c., except the
colour itself. Hence we easily deduce that colour
is nothing but a modification of the image of the
incident and absorbed light, occasioned in the
former case by the different degrees of incidence,
in the latter by the various textures and forms of
bodies.* These are solitary instances as regards
similitude.
Again, in the same inquiry, the distinct veins
of white and black in marble, and the variegated
colours of flowers of the same species, are solitary
instances: for the'black and white of marble, and
the spots of white and purple in the flowers of the
stock, agree in every respect but that of colour.
I'hence we easily deduce that colour has not
nmch to do with the intrinsic natures of any body,
but depends only on the coarser, and, as it were,
mechanical arrangement of the parts. These are
solitary instances as regards difference. We call
them both solitary or wild, to borrow a word from
the astronomers.
23. In the second rank of prerogative instances
we will consider Migrating instances. In these,
the required nature passes towards generation,
having no previous existence, or towards corrup-
tion, having first existed. In each of these divi-
sions, therefore, the instances are always twofold,
or rather, it is one instance, first in motion or on its
oassage, and then brought to the opposite conclu-
sion. These instances not only hasten and con-
firm exclusion, but also reduce affirmation, or the
form itself, to a narrow compass. For, the form
must be something conferred by this migration,
or, on the contrary, removed and destroyed by it.
* This very nearly approaches to Sir I. Newton's discovery
or the decomposition of light by the prism.
And, although all exclusion advances affirmation,
yet this takes place more directly in the saHie
than in different subjects. But, if the form (as
it is quite clear, from what has been advanced)
exhibit itself in one subject, it leads to all. The
more simple the migration is, the more valuable
is the instance. These migrating instances are,
moreover, very useful in practice, for, since they
manifest the form, coupled with that which
causes or destroys it, they point out the right prac-
tice in some subjects, and thence there is an easy
transition to those with which they are most
allied. There is, however, a degree of danger
which demands caution, namely, lest they should
refer the form too much to its efficient cause, and
imbue, or, at least, tinge the understanding with
a false notion of the form from the appearance of
such cause; which is nevermore than a vehicle
or conveyance of the form. This may easily be
remedied by a proper application of exclusion.
Let us then give an example of a migrating
instance. Let whiteness be the required nature.
An instance which passes towards generation, is
glass in its entire, and in its powdered state ; or
water in its natural state, and when agitated to
froth. For glass, when entire, and water, in its
natural state, are transparent and not white, but
powdered glass and the froth of water are white,
and not transparent. We must inquire, there-
fore, what has happened to the glass or water in
the course of this migration. For, it is manifest
that the form of whiteness is conveyed and intro-
duced by the bruising of the glass and the agita-
tion of the water. But nothing is found to have
been introduced but a diminishing of the parts of
the glass and water, and the insertion of air. Yet
this is no slight progress towards discovering the
form of whiteness, namely, that two bodies, in
themselves more or less transparent, (as air and
water, or air and glass,) when brought into con-
tact in minute portions, exhibit whiteness, from
the unequal refraction of the rays of light.
But here we must also give an example of the
danger and caution of which we spoke. For in-
stance; it will readily occur to an understanding
perverted by efficients, that air is always necessary
for producing the form of whiteness, or that white-
ness is only generated by transparent bodies,
which suppositions are both false, and proved to
be so by many exclusions. Nay, it will rather
appear, (without any particular regard to air or
the like,) that all bodies which are even in such of
their parts as affect the sight, exhibit transparen-
cy, those which are uneven and of simple texture,
whiteness, those which are uneven and of com-
pound but regular texture, all the other colours ex-
cept black, but those which are uneven and of a,
compound, irregular, and confused texture, exhibit
blackness. An example has been given, there-
fore, of an instance migrating towards generation
in the required nature of whiteness. An instance
388
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book U.
migrating towards corruption in the same nature,
IS that of dissolving froth, or snow, for they lose
their whiteness, and assume the transparency of
water in its pure state without air.
Nor should we hy any means omit to state, that
under migrating instances we must comprehend
not only those which pass towards generation and
destruction, but also those which pass towards in-
crease or decrease, for they too assist in the disco-
very of the form, as is clear from our definition of
a form, and the table of degrees. Hence, paper,
which is white when dry, is less white when
moistened, (from the exclusion of air and admis-
sion of water,) and tends more to transparency.
The reason is the same as in the above instances.
24. In the third rank of prerogative instances,
we will class conspicuous instances, of which we
spoke in our first vintage of the form of heat, and
which we are also wont to call coruscations, or
free and predominant instances. They are such
as show the required nature in its bare substantial
shape, and at its height, or greatest degree of
power, emancipated and free from all impedi-
ments, or, at least, overcoming, suppressing, and
restraining them by the strength of its qualities.
For, since every body is susceptible of many
united forms of natures in the concrete, the con-
sequence is, that they mutually deaden, depress,
break, and confine each other, and the individual
forms are obscured. But there are some subjects
in which the required nature exists in its full
vigour rather than in others, either from the ab-
sence of any impediment or the predominance of
its quality. Such instances are eminently con-
spicuous. But, even in these, care must be taken,
and the hastiness of the understanding checked,
for, whatever makes a show of the form, and
forces it forward, is to be suspected, and recourse
must be had to severe and diligent exclusion.
For example ; let heat be the required nature.
The thermometer is a conspicuous instance of the
expansive motion, which (as has been observed)
constitutes the chief part of the form of heat.
For, although flame clearly exhibit expansion,
yet, from its being extinguished every moment,
it does not exhibit the progress of expansion.
Boiling water, again, from its rapid conversion
into vapour, does not so well exhibit the expan-
sion of water in its own shape : whilst red-hot
iion and the like, are so far from showing this
progress, that, on the contrary, the expansion
itself is scarcely evident to the senses, on account
of its spirit being repressed and weakened by the
compact and coarse articles which subdue and
restrain it. But the thermometer strikingly ex-
iiibits the expansion of the air, as being evident
;ind p ogressive, durable, and not transitory.
Take another example. Let the required nature
l»e weicrbt. Quicksilver is a conspicuous instance
(if weight; for it is far heavier than any other
pubstance except gold, which is not much heavier ;
and it is a better instance than gold for the pur-
pose of indicating the form of weight. For gold
is solid and consistent, which qualities must be
referred to density, but quicksilver is liquid, and
teeming with spirit, yet much heavier than the
diamond and other substances considered to be
most solid. Whence it is shown that the form
of gravity or weight predominates only in the
quantity of matter, and not in the close fitting
of it.
25. In the fourth rank of prerogative instances
we will class clandestine instances ; which we
are also wont to call twilight instances. Thej
are, as it were, opposed to the conspicuous in-
stances ; for they show the required nature in its
lowest state of efficacy, and, as it were, its cradle
and first rudiments, making an effort, and a sort
of first attempt, but concealed and subdued by a
contrary nature. Such instances are, however,
of great importance in discovering forms, for, as
the conspicuous tend easily to differences, so do
the clandestine best lead to genera ; that is, to
those common natures of which the required
natures are only the limits.
As an example: let consistency, or that which
confines itself, be the required nature, the oppo-
site of which is a liquid or flowing state. The
clandestine instances are such as exhibit some
weak and low degree of consistency in fluids, as
a water bubble, which is a sort of consistent and
bounded pellicle, formed out of the substance of
the water. So eaves' droppings, if there be
enough water to follow them, draw themselves
out into a thin thread, not to break the continuity
of the water, but if there be not enough to follow,
the water forms itself into a round drop, which
is the best form to prevent a breach of continuity :
and at the moment the thread ceases, and the
water begins to fall in drops, the thread of water
recoils upwards to avoid such a breach. Nay, in
metals, which, when melted, are liquid, but more
tenacious, the melted drops often recoil and are
suspended. There is something similar in the
instance of the child's looking-glass, which little
boys will sometimes form of spittle betv^-een
rushes, and where the same pellicle of water is
observable : and still more in that other amuse-
ment of children, when they take some water
rendered a little more tenacious by soap, and in-
flate "it with a pipe, forming the water into a sort
of castle of bubbles, which assumes such con-
sistency by the interposition of the air, as to
admit of being thrown some little distance with-
out bursting. The best example is that of froth
and snow, which assume such consistency as
almost to admit of being cut, although composed
of air and water, both liquids. All these circum-
stances clearly show that the terms liquid and
consistent are merely vulgar notions adapted to
the sense, and that in reality all bodies have a
tendency to avoid a breach of continuity, faint
POUK II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
and weak in hodios composed of liornopeneous
parts, (as is the case wiili liquids,) but more vivid
;uid puwerrui in those of heterogeneous parts:
htoaiiso the approach of heterojreneous matter
\»inds bodies together, wliilst the insinuation of
homogeneous matter loosens and relaxes them.
Again, to take another example: let the re-
quired nature be attraction or the cohesion of
bodies. The most remarkable conspicuous in-
stance, with regard to its form, is the magnet.
The contrary nature to attraction is non-attrac-
tion, though in a similar substance. Thus, iron
does not attract iron, lead lead, wood wood, nor
water water. But the clandestine instance is
that of the magnet armed with iron, or rather that
of iron in the magnet so armed. For its nature
is sivch, that the magnet when armed does not
attract iron more powerfully at any given dis-
tance, than when unarmed; but if the iron be
brought in contact with the armed magnet, the
latter will sustain a much greater weight than the
simple magnet, from the resemblance of sub-
stance in the two portions of iron, -a quality alto-
gether clandestine and hidden in the iron, until
the magnet was introduced. It is manifest,
therefore, that the form of cohesion is something
which is vivid and robust in the magnet, and hid-
den and weak in the iron. It is to be observed,
also, that small wooden arrows without an iron
point, when discharged from large mortars, pene-
trate further into wooden substances (such as the
ribs of ships or the like) than the same arrows
pointed with iron ;* owing to the similarity of
substance, though this quality was previously
latent in the wood. Again, although in the mass
air does not appear to attract air, nor water water,
yet, when one bubble is brought near another,
they are both more readily dissolved, from the
tendency to contact of the water with the water,
and the air with the air.f These clandestine
instances (which are, as has been observed, of
the most important service) are principally to be
observed in small portions of bodies, for the
larger masses observe more universal and general
forms, as will be mentioned in its proper place.
26. In the fifth rank of prerogative instances
we will class comlitutive instances, which we are
wont also to call collective instances. They con-
stitute a species or lesser form, as it were, of the
required nature. For since the real forms (which
are always convertible with the given nature) lie
* Query 1
t The real caiisp of this phenomena is the attrartion of the
stirfiice of the water in the vessel by the sides of the bubbles.
When the bubbles approach, the sides nearest each other both
tend to raise the small space of water between them, and
conspqnenlly less water is raised by each of the nearer
Bides than by the exterior part of the bubble, and the greater
weight of the water raised on the exterior parts pushes the
bubbles together. In the same manner a bubble near the
fide of a vessel is pushed towards it ; the vessel and bubble
both drawing the water that is between them. The latter
pLienomena cannot be explained on Bacon's hvpotht-ai*.
at some depth, and are not easily discovered, the
necessity of. the case and the infirmity of the
human understanding recpiire that the particular
forms, which collect certain groups of instances
(but by no means all) into some common notion,
should not be neglected, but most diligently ob-
served. For whatever unites nature, even imper-
fectly-, opens the way to the discovery of the form.
The instances, therefore, which are serviceable in
this respect, are of no mean power, but endowed
with some degree of prerogative.
Here, nevertheless, great care must be taken,
that after the discovery of several of these parti-
cular forms, and the establishing of certain parti-
tions or divisions of the required nature derived
from them, the human understanding do not at
once rest satisfied, withoiit preparing for the in-
vestigation of the great or leading form, and,
taking it for granted that nature is compound and
divided from its very root, despise and reject any
farther union as a point of superfluous refinement,
and tending to mere abstraction.
For instance, let the required nature be memory
or that which excites and assists memory. Tht
constitutive instances are order or distribution,
which manifestly assists memory ; topics or com-
monplaces in artificial memory, which may be
either places in their literal sense, as a gale, a
corner, a window, and the like, or familiar per-
sons and marks, or any thing else, (provided it
be arranged in a determinate order,) as animals,
plants, and words, letters, characters, historical
persons, and the like ; of which, however, some
are more convenient than others. All these com-
monplaces materially assist memory, and raise it
far above its natural strength. Verse, too, is recol-
lected and learned more easily than prose. From
this group of three instances, order, the common-
places of artificial memory, and verses, is con-
stituted one species of aid for the memory, which
may be well termed a separation from infinity.
For when a man strives to recollect or recall any
thing to memory, without a preconceived notion
or perception of the object of his search, he in-
quires about, and labours, and turns from point to
point, as if involved in infinity. But if he have
any preconceived notion, this infinity is separated
off, and the range of his memory is brought within
closer limits. In the three instances given above,
the preconceived notion is clear and determined.
In the first, it must be something that agrees with
order; in the second, an image which has some
relation or agreement with the fixed common-
places ; in the third, words which fall into a
verse : and thus infinity is divided off. Otiier
instances will offer another species, namely, that
whatever brings the intellect into contact with
something that strikes the sense, (the principal
point of artificial memory,) assists the memory
Others again oflTer another species, namely, what-
ever excites an impression by any powerful pas
2ir2
300
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book II
sion, as fear, wonder, shame, delight, assists the
memory. Other instances will affdrd another
species : thus those impressions remain most
fixed in the memory, which are taken from the
mind when clear and least occupied by preceding
or succeeding notions, such as the things we learn
in childhood, or imagine before sleep, and the
first time of any circumstance happening. Other
instances afford the following species : namely,
that a multitude of circumstances or handles
assist the memory, such as writing in paragraphs,
reading aloud or recitation. Lastly, other instances
afford still another species ; thus the things we
anticipate, and which rouse our attention, are
more easily remembered than transient events;
as, if you read any work twenty times over, you
will not learn it by heart so readily, as if you
were to read it but ten times, trying each time to
repeat it, and when your memory fails you, look-
ing into the book. There are, therefore, six lesser
forms, as it were, of things which assist the me-
mory: namely, 1. The separation of infinity. 2.
The connexion of the mind with the senses. 3.
The impression in strong passion. 4. The im-
pression on the mind when pure. 5. The multi-
tude of handles. G. Anticipation.
Again, for example's sake, let the required na-
ture be taste or the power of tasting. The follow-
ing instances are constitutive: 1. Those who do
not smell, but are deprived by nature of that
sense, do not perceive or distinguish rancid or
putrid food by their taste ; nor garlic from roses,
and the like. 2. Again, those whose nostrils are
obstructed by accident (such "as a cold) do not
distinguish any putrid or rancid matter from any
thing sprinkled with rose-water. 3. If those who
suffer from a cold, blow their noses violently at
the very moment in which they have any thing
fetid or perfumed in their mouth, or on their
palate, they instantly have a clear perception of
the fetor or perfume. These instances afford
and constitute this species or division of taste ;
namely, that it is in part nothing else than an
internal smelling passing and descending through
the upper passages of the nostrils to the mouth
and palate. But, on the other hand, those whose
power of smelling is deficient, or obstructed, per-
ceive what is salt, sweet, pungent, acid, rough,
and bitter, and the like, as well as any one else :
so that the taste is clearly something compounded
of the internal smelling, and an exquisite species
of touch, which we will not here discuss.
Again, as another example, let the required
nature be the communication of quality, without
intermixture of substance. The instance of light
will afford or constitute one species of communica-
tion, heat and the magnet another. For the com-
munication of light is momentary and immediate-
ly arrested upon the removal of the original light.
But heat and the magnetic force, when once trans-
uiitted to. or excited in another bodvj remain
fixed for a considerable time after the removal of
the source.
In fine, the prerogative of constitutive instances
is considerable, for they materially assist the
definitions (especially in details) and the divisions
or partitions of natures, concerning which Plato
has well said, "He who can properly define and
divide is to be considered a god."
27. In the sixth rank of prerogative instances
we will place similar or proportionate instances,
which we are also wont to call physical parallels,
or resemblances. They are such as exhibit the
resemblances and connexions of tilings, not in
minor forms, (as the constitutive do,) but at once
in the concrete. They are, therefore, as it were,
the first and lowest steps towards the union of
nature; nor do they immediately establish any
axiom, but merely indicate and observe a certain
relation of bodies to each other. But, although
they be not of much assistance in discovering
forms, yet, they are of great advantage in dis-
closing the frame of parts of the universe, upon
whose members they practise a species of anato-
my, and thence occasionally lead us gently on to
sublime and noble axioms, especially such as
relate to the construction of the world, rather
than to simple natures and forms.
As an example ; take the following similar in-
stances: a mirror and the eye: the formation of
the ear, and places which return an echo. From
such similarity, besides observing the resem-
blance, (which is useful for many purposes,) it
is easy to collect and form this axiom : That the
organs of the senses, and bodies which produce
reflections to the senses, are of a similar nature.
Again, the understanding once informed of this,
rises easily to a higher and nobler axiom ; namely,
that the only distinction between sensitive and
inanimate bodies, in those points in which they
agree and sympathise, is this ; in the former, ani-
mal spirit is added to the arrangement of the body,
in the latter it is wanting. So that there might
be as many senses in animals as there are points
of agreement with inanimate bodies, if the ani-
mated body were perforated, so as to allow the
spirit to have access to the limb properly disposed
for action, as a fit organ. And, on the other hand,
there are, without doubt, as many motions in an
inanimate, as there are senses in the animated
body, though the animal spirit be absent. There
must, however, be many more motions in inani-
mate bodies than senses in the animated, from
the small number of organs of sense. A very
plain example of this is afforded by pains. For,
as animals are liable to many kinds and various
descriptions of pains, (such as those of burning,
of intense cold, of pricking, squeezing, stretch-
ing, and the like,) so is it most certain, that the
same circumstances, as far as motion is concei-ned,
happen to inanimate bodies, such as wood or
stone, when burned, frozen, pricked, cut, bent
Book II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
391
oruised, and the like; although there be no sensa-
tion, owing to the absence of animal spirit.
Again, wonderful as it may appear, the roots and
liranches of trees are similar instances. For every
Vegetable swells and throws out its constituent
parts towards the circumference, both upwards
and downwards. And there is no difference be-
tween the roots and branches, except that the root
is buried in the earth, and the branches are exposed
to the air and sun. For if one take a young and
vigorous shoot, and bend it down to a small por-
tion of loose earth, although it be not fixed to the
ground, yet will it immediately produce a root,
and not a branch. And, vice versii, if earth be
placed above, and so forced down with a stone
or any hard substance, as to confine the plant and
prevent its branching upwards, it will throw out
branches into the air downwards. The gums of
trees and most rock gems are similar instances ;
for both of them are exudations, and filtered
juices, derived in the former instance from trees,
in the latter from stones; the brightness and
clearness of both arising from a delicate and
accurate filtering. For nearly the same reason,
the hair of animals is less beautiful and vivid in
its colour, than the plumage of most birds, be-
cause the juices are less delicately filtered through
the skin than through the quills.
The scrotum of males, and matrix of females,
are also similar instances : so that the noble for-
mation which constitutes the difference of the
sexes, appears to differ only as to the one being
internal and the other external ; a greater degree
of heat causing the genitals to protrude in the
male, whilst the heat of the female being too
weak to effect this, they are retained internally.
The fins of fishes, and the feet of quadrupeds, or
the feet and wings of birds, are similar instances ;
to which Aristotle adds the four folds in the
motion of serpents ;* so that, in the formation of
the universe, tiie motion of animals appears to be
chiefly effected by four joints or bendings.
Tlie teeth of land animals, and the beaks of
birds, are similar instances, whence it is clear,
that in all perfect animals there is a determination
of some hard substance towards the mouth.
Again, the resemblance and conformity of man
to an inverted plant is not absurd. For the head
is the root of tiie nerves and animal faculties,
and the seminal parts are the lowest, not including
the extremities of the legs and arms. But, in
the plant, the root (which resembles the head) I
is regularly placed in the lowest, and the seeds in
ihe highest part.
Lastly, we must particularly recommend and
suggest, that man's present industry in the inves-
tigation and compilation of natural history be
entirely changed, and directed to the reverse of
♦ Is not this a very hasty ppiieralir.ntloni Do uprpenta
mov" with four folds onlyl Observe also the motion of
centipedes and other insects.
the present system. For, it has hitherto been
active and curious in noting the variety of things
and explaining the accurate differences of ani-
mals, vegetables, and minerals, most of which are
the mere sport of nature, rather than of any real
utility as concerns the sciences. Pursuits of this
nature are certainly agreeable, and sometimes of
practical advantage, but contribute little or nothing
to the thorough investigation of nature. Our
labour must, therefore, be directed towards in-
quiring into, and observing resemblances and
analogies, both in the whole, and its parts, for,
they unite nature, and lay the foundation of the
sciences.
Here, however, a severe and rigorous caution
must be observed, that we only consider as simi-
lar and proportionate instances, those which (as
we first observed) point out physical resem-
blances: that is, real and substantial resem-
blances, deeply founded in nature, and not casual
and superficial, much less superstitious or curi-
ous ; such as those which are constantly put
forward by the writers on natural magic, (the
most idle of men, and who are scarcely fit to be
named in connection with such serious matters as
we now treat of,) who, with much vanity and
folly, describe, and sometimes, too, invent un-
meaning resemblances and sympathies.
But, leaving such to themselves, similar in-
stances are not to be neglected, in the greater
portions of the world's conformation ; such as
Africa and the Peruvian continent, which reaches
to the Straits of Magellan ; both of which possess
a similar isthmus and similar capes, a circum-
stance not to be attributed to mere accident.
Again ; the New and Old World are both of
them broad and expanded towards the north, and
narrow and pointed towards the south.
Again ; we have very remarkable similar in-
stances in the intense cold, towards the iniddle
regions (as it is termed) of the air, and the vio-
lent fires which are often found to burst from
subterraneous spots, the similarity consisting in
both being ends and extremes; the e.\:renie of
the nature of cold, for instance, is towards the
boundary of heaven, and that of the nature of
heat towards the centre of the earth, by a simi-
lar species of opposition or rejection of the con-
trary nature.
Lastly, in the axioms of the sciences there is
a similarity of instances worthy of observation.
Thus, the rhetorical trope which is called surprise,
is similar to that of music termed the declining
of a cadence.
Again ; the mathematical postulate, that " things
which are equal to the same are equal to one
another," is similar to the form of the syllogism
in logic, which unites things agreeing in the niid-
dle term. Lastly: a certain degrree of sagacity
in collecting and searching for physical points of
similTity, is very useful in many resuects. «
332
NOVUM ORGANUM.
C OK II.
28. In the seventli rank of prerogative instances
we will place singular instances, which we are
also wont to call irregular or heteroclite, (to bor-
row a term from the grammarians.) They are
such as exhibit bodies in the concrete, of an ap-
parently extravagant and separate nature, agree-
ing but little with other things of the same spe-
cies. For, whilst the similar instances resemble
each other, those we now speak of are only like
themselves. Their use is much the same with
that of clandestine instances ; they bring out and
unite nature, and discover genera or common
natures, which must afterwards be limited by
real differences. Nor should we desist from in-
quiry until the properties and qualities of those
things, which may be deemed miracles, as it
were, of nature, be reduced to, and comprehended
in, some form or certain law ; so that all irregu-
larity or singularity may be found to depend on
some common form ; and the miracle only consists
in accurate differences, degree, and rare coinci-
dence, not in the species itself. Man's meditation
proceeds no farther at present, than just to consi-
der things of this kind as the secrets and vast
efforts of nature, without an assignable cause,
and, as it were, exceptions to general rules.
As examples of singular instances, we have
the sun and moon amongst the heavenly bodies ;
the magnet amongst minerals; quicksilver amongst
metals; the elephant amongst quadrupeds; the
venereal sensation amongst the different kinds of
touch ; the scent of sporting dogs amongst those
ol smell. The letter S, too, is considered by the
grammarians as sui generis, from its easily uniting
with double or triple consonants, which no other
letter will. These instances are of great value,
because they excite and keep alive inquiry, and
correct an understanding depraved by habit, and
the common course of things.
29. In the eighth rank of prerogative instances,
we will place deviating instances ; such as the
errors of nature, or strange and monstrous objects,
in which nature deviates and turns from her ordi-
nary course. For the errors of nature differ from
singular instances, inasmuch as the latter are
the miracles of species, the former of individuals.
Their use is much the same, for they rectify the
understanding in opposition to habit, and reveal
common forms. For, with regard to these, also,
we must not desist from inquiry till we discern
the cause of the deviation. The cause does not,
however, in such cases, rise to a regular form, but
only to the latent process towards such a form.
For he who is acquainted with the paths of na-
ture will more readily observe her deviations,
and, vice vers^, he who has learnt her deviations,
will be able more accurately to describe her paths.
They differ again from singular instances, by
being much more apt for practice, and the opera-
tive branch. For it would be very difficult to
fc?enefate new species, but less so to vary known
species, and thus produce many ran; ai.d unusual
results.* The passage frou) the niiniehs of na
ture to those of art is easy ; for if naiure be once
seized in her variations, and the cause l)e manifest,
it will be easy to lead her by art to such deviation
as she was at first led to by chance ; and not only
to that, but others, since deviations on the one side
lead and open the way to others in every direction.
Of this we do not require any examples, since
they are so abundant. For a compilation, or par-
ticular natural history, must be made of all mon-
sters and prodigious births of nature; of every
thing, in short, which is new, rare, and unusual
in nature. This should be done with a rigorous
selection, so as to be worthy of credit. Those
are most to be suspected which depend upon
superstition, as the prodigies of Livy, and tliose,
perhaps, but little less which are found in the
works of writers on natural magic, or even al-
chymy, and the like, for such men, as it were,
are the very suitors and lovers of fables ; but our
instances should be derived from some grave and
credible history, and faithful narration.
30. In the ninth rank of prerogative instances,
we will place bordering instances, which we are
also wont to term participants. They are such
as exhibit those species of bodies which appear
to be composed of two species, or to be the rudi-
ments between the one and the other. They may
w^ell be classed with the singular or heteroclite
instances; for, in the whole system of things,
they are rare and extraordinary. Yet from their
dignity they must be treated of and classed sepa-
rately, for they point out admirably the order and
constitution of things, aud suggest the causes of
the number and quality of the more common spe-
cies in the universe, leading the understanding
from that which is, to that which is possible.
We have examples of them in moss, which is
something between putrescence and a plant; in
some comets, which hold a place between stars
and ignited meteors ; in flying fishes, between
fishes and birds ; and in bats, between birds and
quadrupeds."!" Again,
" Simia quam uiniilis turpissima bestia nobis."
We have also biformed fetus, mingled species,
and the like.
31. In the tenth rank of prerogative instances,
we Avill place the instances oi power, or the fasces,
(to borrow a term from the insignia of empire,)
which we are also wont to call the wit or hands
of man. These are such works as are most noble
and perfect, and, as it were, the masterpieces in
every art For since our principal object is to
• This is well illustrated in plants, for the gardener can
produce endless varieties of any known species, l-ut can
never produce a new species itself.
+ There is, however, no real approximation to birds in
either the flying fish or bat, any more than a man approxi-
mates to a fish because he can swim. The wings of the
flying fish and bat are mere expansions of skin, bearing no
resemblance whatever to those of birds.
rtooK II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
303
(uaUe n?\ture subservient to the slate and wants of
man, it becomes us well to note and enumerate
•be works, which have long since been in the
|,ower of man, especially those which are most
polished and pcrfi ct ; because the passage from
these, to new and hitherto undiscovered works, is
more easy and feasible. For if any one, after an
attentive contemplation of such works as are
extant, be willing tn push forward in his design
with alacrity and vigour, he will undoubtedly
either advance them, or turn them to something
within their immediate reach, or even apply and
transfer them to some more noble purpose.
Nor is this all : for as the understanding is
elevated and raised by rare and unusual works of
nature, to investigate and discover the forms
which include them also; so is the same effect
frequently produced by the excellent and wonder-
ful works of art : and even to a greater degree,
because, the mode of effecting and constructing
the miracles of art, is generally plain, whilst that
of effecting the miracles of nature is more obscure.
Great care, however, must be taken, that they do
not depress the understanding, and fix it as it
were to earth.
For there is some danger, lest the understand-
ing should be astonished and chained down, and,
as it were, bewitched, by such works of art as
appear to be the very summit and pinnacle of
human industry, so as not to become familiar
with them, but rather to suppose, that nothing of
the kind can be accomplished, unless the same
means be employed, with perhaps a little more
diligence, and more accurate preparation.
Now, on the contrary, it may be stated as a
fact, that the ways and means hitherto discovered
and observed, of effecting any matter or work,
are for the most part of little value, and that all
really efficient power depends, and is really to be
deduced from the sources of forms, none of which
have yet been discovered.
Thus, (as we have before observed,) had any
one meditated on balistic machines, and battering
rams, as they were used by the ancients, what-
ever application he might have exerted, and
though he might have consumed a whole life in
the pursuit, yet would he never have hit upon the
invention of flaming engines, acting by means of
gunpowder : nor would any person, who had
made woollen manuf*ictories and cotton the sub-
ject of his observation and reflection, have ever
discovered thereby the nature of the silk-worm,
or of silk.
Hence all the most noble discoveries have (if
you observe) come to light, not by any gradual
improvement and extension of the arts, but merely
by chance ; whilst nothing imitates or anticipates
chance (which is wont to act at intervals of ages)
but the invention of forms.
There is no necessity for adducing any particu-
VoL. III.— 50
lar examples of these instances, since they are
abundant. The plan to be pursued is this; all
the mechanical, and even the liberal arts, (aa
far as they are practical) should be visited and
thoroughly examined, and thence there should he
formed a compilation or particular history of the
great masterpieces, or most finished works in
each, as well as of the mode of carrying thera
into effect.
Nor do we confine the diligence to be used in
such a compilation to the leading works and se-
crets only of every art, and such as excite won-
der ; for wonder is engendered by rarity, since
that which is rare, although it be compounded of
ordinary natures, always begets wonder. On the
contrary, that which is really wonderful, from
some specific difference distinguishing it from
other species, is carelessly observed, if it be but
familiar. Yet the singular instances of art should
be observed no less than those of nature, which
we have before spoken of: and, as in the latter
we have classed the sun, the moon, the magnet,
and the like, all of them most familiar to us, but
yet in their nature singular, so should we proceed
with the singular instances of art.
For example; paper, a very common substance,
is a singular instance of art. For, if you consi-
der the subject attentively, you will find that arti-
ficial substances are either woven by straight and
transverse lines, as silk, woollen, or linen cloth,
and the like; or coagulated from concrete juices,
such as brick, earthenware, glass, enamel, por-
celain, and the like, which admit of a polish, if
they be compact, but, if not, become hard with-
out being polished; all which latter substances
are brittle, and are not adherent or tenacious. On
the contrary, paper is a tenacious substance, which
can be cut and torn, so as to resemble, and almost
rival the skin of any animal, or the leaf of vegeta-
bles, and the like works of nature ; being neither
brittle like glass, nor woven like cloth, but having
fibres, and not distinct threads, just as natural
substances, so that scarcely any thing similar can
be found amongst artificial substances, and it is
absolutely singular. And in artificial works we
should certainly prefer those which approach the
nearest to an imitation of nature, or, on the other
hand, powerfully govern and change her course.
Again, in these instances which we term the wit
and hands of man, charms and conjuring should
not be altogether despised, for although mere
amusements, and of little use, yet they may afford
considerable inforn)ation.
Lastly, superstition and magic (in its common
acceptation) are not to be entirely omitted ; for,
although they be overwhelmed by a mass of lies
and fables, yet some investigation should be
made, to see if there be really any latent natural
operation in them ; as in fascination, and the for-
tifying of the imagination, the sympathy of dig-
394
NOVUM ORGAN UM.
Book II.
tant objects, the transmission of impressions from
9|)irit to spirit, no less than from body to body,
and the like.
32. From the foregoing remarks, it is clear that
the five last species of instances (the similar,
singular, deviating, and bordering instances, and
those of power) should not be reserved for the
investigation of any given nature, as the preceding
and many of the succeeding instances must, but
a collection of them should be made at once, in
the style of a particular history ; so that they
may arrange the matter which enters the under-
standing, and correct its depraved habit, for it
is necessarily imbued, corrupted, perverted, and
distorted by daily and habitual impressions.
They are to be used, therefore, as a prepara-
tive, for the purpose of rectifying and purifying
the understanding, for, whatever withdraws it
from habit, levels and planes down its surface for
the reception of the dry and pure light of true
notions. These instances, moreover, level and
prepare the way for the operative branch, as we
will mention in its proper place, when speaking
of the practical deductions.
33. In the eleventh rank of prerogative in-
stances, we will place accompany i/ig and hostile
instances. These are such as exhibit any body
or concrete, where the required nature is con-
stantly found, as an inseparable companion, or,
on the contrary, where the required nature is con-
stantly avoided and excluded from attendance, as
an enemy. From these instances may be formed
certain and universal propositions, either affirma-
tive or negative; the subject of which will be the
concrete body, and the predicate the required
nature. For particular propositions are by no
means fixed, when the required nature is found
to fluctuate and change in the concrete, either ap-
proaching and acquired, or receding and laid
aside. Hence, particular propositions have no
great prerogative, except in the case of migration,
of which we have spoken above. Yet such par-
ticular propositions are of great use, when com-
pared with the universal, as will be mentioned in
its proper place. Nor do we require absolute
affirmation or negation, even in universal propo-
sitions, for, if the exceptions be singular or rare,
it is sufficient for our purpose.
The use of accompanying instances is to nar-
row the affirmative of forni. For, as it is nar-
rowed by the migrating instances, where the form
must necessarily be something communicated or
destroyed by the act of migration, so it is nar-
rowed by accompanying instances, where the
form must necessarily be something which enters i
Into the concretion of the body, or, on the contra-
ry, IS repugnant to it, and one who is well ac-
tjuainted with the constitution or formation of the i
body, will not be far from bringing to light the i
lorm of the required nature. j
For example : let the retjuired nature be heat. |
Flame is an accompanying instance. For, in
water, air, stone, metal, and many other sub-
stances, heat is variable, and can approach or
retire, but all flame is hot, so that heat al\\ ays
accompanies the concretion of flame. We have
no hostile instance of heat. For the senses are
unacquainted with the interior of the earth, and
there is no concretion of any known body which
is not susceptible of heat.
Again, let solidity be the required nature. Air
is a hostile instance. For metals may be liquid
or solid, so may glass ; even water may become
solid by congelation, but air cannot become solid
or lose its fluidity.
With regard to these instances of fixed proposi-
tions, there are two points to be observed, which
are of importance. First, that if there be no
universal affirmative or negative, it be carefully
noted as not existing. Thus, in heat, we have
observed that there exists no universal negative,
in such substances at least as have come lo our
knowledge. Again, if the required nature be
eternity or incorruptibility, we have no universal
affirmative within our sphere, for these qualities
cannot be predicated of any bodies below the
heavens, or above the interior of the earth.
Secondly, To our general i)roposilions as to any
concrete, whether affirmative or negative, we
should subjoin the concretes which appear to
approach nearest to the non-existing substances ;
such as the most gentle or least burning flames in
heat, or gold in incorruptibility, sinceit approaches
nearest to it. For they all serve to show the
limit of existence and non-existence, and circum-
scribe forms, so that they cannot wander beyond
the conditions of matter.
34. In the twelfth rank of prerogative instances,
we will class those sw6/u7)c//«e instances, of which
we spoke in the last aphorism, and which we are
also wont to call instances of extremity or limits;
for they are not only serviceable when subjoined
to fixed propositions, but also of themselves and
from their own nature. They indicate with suffi-
cient precision the real divisions of nature, and
measures of things, and the "how far" nature
efl'ects or allows of any thing, and her ])assage
thence to something else. Such are gold in
weight, iron in hardness, the whale in the size
of animals, the dog in smell, the flame of gun-
powder in rapid expansion, and others of the like
nature. Nor are we to pass over the extremes in
defect as well as in abundance, as spirits of wine
in weight, the touchstone in softness, the worms
upon the skin in the size of animals, and the
like.
35. In the thirteenth rank of prerogative in-
stances, we will place those of alliance or union.
They are such as mingle and unite natures held
to be heterogeneous, and observed and marked as
such in received classifications.
These instances show that the operation and
Book II.
NOVUM ORGAN UM.
305
v'iTiect, which is considered peculiar to some one'
of such heterogeneous natures, may also be attri- |
buted to another nature styled heterogeneous; so
as to prove that tlie difference of tiie natures is
not real nor essential, but a mere modification of j
a common nature. They are very serviceable,
therefore, in elevating and carrying on the mind
from differences to genera, and in removing those !
phantoms and images of things, which meet it
in disguise in concrete substances.
For example ; let the required nature be heat.
The classification of heat into three kinds, that
of the celestial bodies, that of animals, and that
of fire, appears to be settled and admitted : and
these kinds of heat, especially one of them com-
pared with the other two, are supposed to be dif-
ferent, and clearly heterogeneous in their essence
and species, or specific nature ; since the heat of
the heavenly bodies and of animals generates and
cherishes, whilst that of fire corrupts and destroys.
We have an instance of alliance then in a very
common experiment, that of a vine branch ad-
mitted into a building where there is a constant
fire, by which the grapes ripen a whole month
sooner than in the air; so that fruit upon the tree
can be ripened by fire, although this appear the
peculiar effect of the sun. From this beginning,
therefore, the understanding rejects all essential
difference, and easily ascends to the investigation
of the real differences between the heat of tlie
sun and that of fire, by which their operation is
rendered dissimilar, although they partake of a
common nature.
These differences will be found to be four in
number. The heat of the sun is much milder
and gentler in degree than that of fire. 2. It is
much more moist in quality, especially as it is
transmitted to us through the air. 3. Which is
the chief point, it is very unequal, advancing and
increased at one time, retiring and diminislied at
another; which mainly contributes to the genera-
tion of bodies. For Aristotle rightly asserted,
that the principal cause of generation and corrup-
tion on the surface of the earth, was the oblique
path of the sun in the zodiac, whence its heat
becomes very unequal, partly from the alternation
of night and day, partly from the succession of
summer and winter. Yet must he immediately
corrupt and prevent his discovery, by dictating to
nature according to his habit, and dogmatically
assigning the cause of generation to the approach
of the sun and that of corruption to its retreat;
whilst in fact each circumstance indifferently and
not respectively contributes both to generation
and corruption ; for unequal heat tends to gene-
rate and corrupt, as equable heat does to preserve.
4. The fourth difference between the heat of the
sun and fire is of great consequence ; namely,
that the sun, gradually, and for a length of lime,
insinuates its effects, whilst those of fire (urged
by the impatience of man) are brought to a
termination in a shorter space of time. But if
any one were to pay attention to the tempering
of fire, and reducing it to a more moderate and
gentle degree, (wiiich may be done in various
ways,) and then were to sprinkle and mix a
degree of humidity with it, and above all were to
imitate the sun in its inequality, and lastly wero
patiently to suffer soiiie delay, (not such, how-
ever, as is proportioned to the effects of the sun,
but more than men usually admit of in those of
fire,) he would soon banish the notion of any
difference, and would attempt, or equal, or per-
haps sometimes surpass the effect of the sun, by
the heat of fire. A like instance of alliance is
that of reviving butterflies, benumbed and nearly
dead from cold, by the gentle warmth of fire, so
that fire is no less able to revive animals than to
ripen vegetables. We may also mention the
celebrated invention of Fracastorius, of applying
a pan considerably heated to the head in desperate
cases of apoplexy, which clearly expands the
animal spirits, when compressed and almost ex-
tinguished by the humours and obstructions of the
brain, and excites them to action, as the fire would
operate on water or air, and in the result produces
life. Eggs are sometimes hatched by the heal
of fire, an exact imitation of animal heat; and
there are many instances of the like nature, so
that no one can doubt that the heat of fire, in
many cases, can be modified till it resemble that
of the heavenly bodies and of animals.
Again, let the required natures be motion and
rest. There appears to be a settled classification,
grounded on the deepest philosophy, Jhat natural
bodies either revolve, move in a straight line, or
stand still and rest. For there is either motion
without limit, or continuance within a certain
limit, or a translation towards a certain limit.
The eternal motion of revolution appears pecu-
liar to the heavenly bodies, rest to this our globe,
and the other bodies (heavy and light, as they
are termed, that is to say, placed tut of their
natural position) are borne in a straight line to
masses or aggregates which resemble them, the
light towards the heaven, the heavy towards the
earth": and all this is very fine language.
But we have an instance of alliance in low
comets, which revolve, though far below the
heavens ; and the fiction of Aristotle, of the
comet being fixed to or necessarily followinrj
some star, has been long since exploded; not
only because it is improbable in itself, but from
the evident fact of the discursive and irregular
motion of comets, through various parts of the
heavens.
i Another instance of alliance is that of the mo-
tion of air, which appears to revolve from east to
west within the tropics, where the circles of revo-
lution are the greatest.
The flow and ebb of 'he sea would perhaps be
another instance, if the water were once found lo
306
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book II
nave a motion of revolution, though slow and
hardly perceptible, from east to west, subject,
fiowever, to a reaction twice a day. If this be
80, it is clear that the motion of revolution is not
3onfined to the celestial bodies, but is shared also
by air and water.
Again; the supposed peculiar disposition of
light bodies to rise, is rather shak^^n; and here
we may find an instance of alliance in a water
bubble. For if air be placed under water, it rises
rapidly towards the surface, by that striking mo-
tion (as Democritus terms it) with which the de-
scending water strikes the air, and raises it; not
by any struggle or effort of the air itself: and
when it has reached, the surface of the water, it is
prevented from ascending any further, by the
slight resistance it meets with in the water, which
does not allow an immediate separation of its
parts, so that the tendency of the air to rise must
be very slight.
Again; let the required nature be weight. It
is certainly a received classification, that dense
and solid bodies are borne towards the centre of
the earth, and rare and light bodies to the circum-
ference of the heavens, as their appropriate places.
As far as relates to places, (though these things
have much weight in the schools,) the notion of
there being any determinate place is absurd and
puerile. Philosophers trifle, therefore, when they
tell you that if the earth were perforated, heavy
bodies would stop on their arrival at the centre.
This centre would indeed be an efficacious
nothing or mathematical point, could it affect
bodies or be sought by them, for a body is not
acted upon except by a body.* In fact, this
tendency to ascend and descend, is either in the
conformation of the moving body, or in its har-
mony and sympathy with another body. But if
any dense and solid body be found, which does
not however, tend towards the earth, the classifi-
cation is at an end. Now, if we allow of Gilbert's
opinion, that the magnetic power of the earth, in
attracting heavy bodies, is not extended beyond
the limit of its peculiar virtue, (which operates
always at a fixed distance and no further,)]" and
this be proved by some instance, such an insljince
will be one of alliance in our present subject.
The nearest approach to it is that of waterspouts,
fiequently seen by persons navigating the Atlantic
towards either of the Indies. For the force and
mass of the water suddenly effused by water-
spouts, appears to be so considerable, that the
water must have been collected previously, and
have remained fixed where it was formed, until
t was afterwards forced down bj some violent
* But see Bacon's own corollary at the end of the instances
cjt divorce, Aphorism 37.
+ Since Newton's discovery of the law of pravitation, we
find that the attractive force of the enrth must extend to an
Infinite distance. Bacon himself alludes to the operation of
.hia attractive force at great distances, in the instances of the
io<^ Aphorism 45.
cause, rather than made to fall by the natural mo-
tion of gravity : so that it may be conjectured,
that a dense and compact mass, at a great distance
from the earth, may be suspended as the earth
itself is, and would not fall unless forced down.
We do not, however, afllrm this ass certain. In
the mean while, both in this respect and many
others, it will readily be seen how deficient we
are in natural history, since we are forced to have
recourse to suppositions for examples, instead of
ascertained instances.
Again ; let the required nature be the discur-
sive power of the mind. The classification of
human reason, and animal instinct, appears to he
perfectly correct. Yet there are some instances
of the actions of brutes, which seem to show that
they too can syllogize. Thus it is related, that a
crow, which had nearly perished from thirst in a
great drought, saw some water in the hollow trunk
of a tree, but as it was too narrow for him to get
into it, he continued to throw in pebbles, which
made the water rise till he could drink, and it
afterwards became a proverb.
Again ; let the required nature be vision. The
classification appears real and certain, which con-
siders light as that which is originally visible,
and confers the power of seeing ; and colour as
being secondarily visible, and not capable of
being seen without light, so as to appear a mere
image or modification of light. Yet there are in-
stances of alliance in each respect; as in snow
when in great quantities, and in the flame of sul-
phur; the one being a colour originally and in
itself light, the other a light verging towards a
colour.*
.^§. In the fourteenth rank of prerogative in-
stances, we will place the instances nf the cross,
borrowing our metaphor from the crosses erected
where two roads meet, to point out ihe different
directions. We are wont also to call them deci-
sive and judicial instances, and in some cases in-
stances of the oracle, and of command. Their
nature is as follows. When in investigating any
nature the understanding is, as it were, balanced,
and uncertain to which of two or more natures
the cause of the required nature should be as-
signed, on account of the frequent and usual con-
currence of several natures ; the instances of the
cross show that the union of one nature with the
required nature is firm and indissoluble, whilst
that of the other is unsteady and separable ; by
which mean? the question is decided, and the first
is received as the cause, whilst the other is dis-
missed and rejected. Such instances therefore
afford great light, and are of great weight, so that
the course of interpretation sometimes terminates
and is completed in them. Sometimes, however,
they are found amongst the instances already ob-
served, but they are generally new, being ex-
• Snow reflects light, but is not a source of light.
Book H
NOVUM ORGANUM.
8d7
pressly anv purposely sought for and applied,
and brought to liirjit only by attentive and active
diligence.
For example ; let the required nature be the
flow and ebb of the sea, which is repeated twice
a day, at intervals of six hours between each ad-
vance and retreat, with some little difference,
agreeing with the motion of the moon. We have
here the following cross-ways.
Tills motion must be occasioned either by the
advancing and the retiring of the sea, like water
siiaken in a basin, which leaves one side while it
washes the other; or by the rising of the sea
from the bottom, and its again subsiding like
boiling water. But a doubt arises, to wliicli of
these causes we should assign the flow and ebb.
If the first assertion be admitted, it follows, that
when there is a flood on one side, there must at
the same time be an ebb on another, and the
question, therefore,' is reduced to this. Now,
Acosta, and some others, after a diligent inquiry,
have observed that the flood tide takes place on
the coast of Florida and the opposite coasts of
Spain and Africa at the same time, as does also
the ebb ; and that there is not, on the contrary, a
flood tide at Florida when there is an tbb on the
coasts of Spain and Africa. Yet, if one consider
the subject attentively, this does not prove the
necessity of a rising motion, nor refute the notion
of a progressive motion. For the motion may be
progressive, and yet inundate the opposite shores
of a channel at the same time ; as if the waters be
forced and driven together from some other quar-
ter, for instance, which takes place in rivers, for
they flow and ebb towards each bank at the same
time, yet their motion is clearly progressive, being
that of the waters from the sea entering their
mouths. So it may happen, that the waters
coming in a vast body from the eastern Indian
Ocean, are driven together and forced into the
channel of the Atlantic, and therefore inundate
both coasts at once. We must inquire, therefore,
if there be any other channel by which the waters
can, at the same time, sink and ebb ; and the
Southern Ocean at once suggests itself, which is
not less than the Atlantic, but rather broader, and
more extensive than is requisite for this effect.
We at length arrive, then, at an instance of
the cross, which is this. If it be positively dis-
covered, that when the flood sets in towards the
opposite coasts of Florida and Spain in the At-
lantic, there is at the same time a flood tide on
the coasts of Peru, and the hack part of China
in the Southern Ocean, then assuredly, from this
decisive instance, we must reject the assertion
that the flood and ebb of the sea, about which we
inquire, takes place by progressive motion ; for
no other sea or place is left where there can be an
ebb. But this may most easily be learned, by
inquiring of the inhabitants of Panama and
Lima, (where the two oceans are separated by
a narrow isthmus,) whether the flood and etb
takes place on the opposite sides of the isthmus
at the same time, or the reverse. This decision
or rejection appears certain, if it be granted that
the earth is fixed ; but if the earth revolves, il
may, perhaps, happen, that from the unequal
revolution (as regards velocity) of the earth, and
the waters of the sea, there may be a violent
forcing of the waters into a mass, forniing the
flood, and a subsequent relaxation of them, (when
they can no longer bear the accumulation,) form-
ing the ebb. A separate inquiry must be made
into this. Even with this hyjiothesis, howevei,
it remains equally true, that there must be an ebb
somewhere, at the same time that there is a flood
in another quarter.
Again, let the required nature be the latter of
the two motions we have supposed, namely, that
of a rising and subsiding motion, if it should
happen that, upon diligent examination, the pro-
gressive motion be rejected. We have, then,
three ways before us, with regard to this nature.
The motion, by which the waters raise themselves
and again fall back, in the floods and ebbs, with-
out the addition of any other water rolled towards
them, must take place in one of the three follow-
ing ways. Either the supply of water emanates
from the interior of the earth, and returns back
again; or there is really no greater quantity of
water, but the same water (without any augment-
ation of its quantity) is extended or rarefied, so
as to occupy a greater space and dimension, and
again contracts itself; or there is neither an addi-
tional supply nor any extension, but the same
waters (with regard to quantity, density, or
rarity) raise themselves and fall from sympathy,
by some magnetic power attracting and calling
them up, as it were, from above. Let us, theu,
(passing over the two first motions,) reduce the
investigation to the last; and inquire if there be
any such elevation of the water, by sympatliy or
a magnetic force. And it is evident, in the first
place, that the whole mass of water being placed
in the trench or cavity of the sea, cannot be laised
at once, because there would not be enough to
cover the bottom, so that, if there be any ten-
dency of this kind in the water, to raise itself,
yet it would be interrupted and checked by the
cohesion of things, or (as the common expression
is) that there may be no vacuum. The water,
therefore, itiust rise on one side, and for that rea-
son be diminished, and ebb on another. But it
will acjain necessarily follow, that the magnetic
power, not being able to operate on the whole,
operates most intensely on the centre, so as to
raise the waters there, which, when thus raised
successively, desert and abandon the sides.
We at length arrive, ilten, atan instance of tiie
cross, which is this: if it be found that, during
the ebb, the surface of the waters at sea is more
curved and round, from the waters ris'ng in the
2 L
398
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book IT.
middle, and sinkintr at the sides or coast, and if,
during the flood, it be more even and level, from
the waters returning to their former position,
then, assuredly, by this decisive instance, the
raising of them by a magnetic force can be ad-
mitted, if otherwise, it must be entirely rejected.
It is not difficult to make the experiment (by
sounding in straits) whether the sea be deeper
towards the middle in ebbs than in floods. But
it must be observed, if this be the case, that
(contrary to common opinion) the waters rise
in ebbs, and only return to their former posi-
tion in floods, so as to bathe and inundate the
coast.
Again, let the required nature be the spontaneous
motion of revolution, and particularly, whether
the diurnal motion, by which the sun and stars
appears to us to rise and set, be a real motion of
revolution in the heavenly bodies, or only appa-
rent in them, and real in the earth. There may
be an instance of the cross of the following na-
ture. If there be discovered any motion in the
ocean from east to west, though very languid and
weak, and, if the same motion be discovered
rather more swift in the air, (particularly within
the tropics, where it is more perceptible, from the
circles being greater,) if it be discovered, also,
in the low comets, and be already quick and
powerful in them, if it be found also in the pla-
nets, but so tempered and regulated as to be slower
in those nearest the earth, and quicker in those at
the greatest distance, being quickest of all in the
heavens, then the diurnal motion should certainly
be considered as real in the heavens, and that of
the earth must be rejected, for it will be evident,
that the motion from east to west is part of the
system of the world, and universal ; since it is
most rapid in the height of the heavens, and
gradually ^rows weaker, till it stops, and is ex-
tinguished in rest at the earth.
Again, let the required nature be that other mo-
tion of revolution, so celebrated amongst astrono-
mers, which is contrary to the diurnal, namely,
from west to east, anr^ which the ancient astrono-
mers assign to the planets, and even to the starry
sphere, but Copernicus and his followers to the
earth also, and let it be examined whether any
such motion be found in nature, or it be rather a
fiction and hypothesis for abridging and facili-
tating calculation, and for promoting that fine
notion of effecting the heavenly motions by per-
fect circles. For there is nothing which proves
such a motion in heavenly objects to be true and
real, either in a planet's not returning in its diurnal
motion to the same point of the starry sphere, or
in the pole of the zodiac being different from that
of the world, which two circumstances have
(x;casioned this notion. For the first phenome-
non is well accounted for by the spheres over-
taking orfvilling behind each other, and the second
by spiral lines, so that the inaccuracy of the re-
turn, and declination to the tropics, may be rather
modifications of the one diurnal motion, than
contrary motions, or about different poles. And,
it is most certain, if we consider ourselves for n
moment as part of the vulgar, (setting aside the
fictions of astronomers and the school, who are
wont, undeservedly, to attack the senses in maA_
respects, and to affect obscurity.) that the appa-
rent motion is such as we have said, a model of
which we have sometimes caused to be repre-
sented by wires in a sort of machine.
We may take the following instances of the
cross upon this subject. If it be found in any
history, worthy of credit, that there has existed
any comet, high or low, which has not revolved
in manifest harmony (however irregularly) with
the diurnal motion, then we may decide so far as
to allow such a motion to be possible in nature.
But, if nothing of the sort be found, it must be
suspected, and recourse must be had to other in-
stances of the cross.
Again, let the required nature be weight or
gravity. Heavy and ponderous bodies must,
either of their own nature, tend towards the cen-
tre of the earth by their peculiar formation ; or
must be iittracted, and hurried, by the corporeal
mass of the earth itself, as being an assemblage
of similar bodies, and be drawn to it by sympa-
thy.* But if the latter be the cause, it follows,
that the nearer bodies approach to the earth, the
more powerfully and rapidly they must be borne
towards it, and the further they are distant, the
more faintly and slowly, (as is the case in mag-
netic attractions,) and that this must happen
within a given distance, so that if they be sepa-
rated at such a distance from the earth that the
power of the earth cannot act upon them, they
will remain suspended like the earth, and not fall
at all.
The following instance of the cross may be
adopted. Take a clock, moved by leaden weights,
and another by a spring, and let them be set well
together, so that one be neither quicker nor slower
than the other; then let the clock moved by
"weights, be placed on the top of a very high
church, and the other be kept below, and let it
be well observed, if the former move slower than
it did, from the diminished power of the weights.
Let the same experiment be made at the bottom
of mines worked to a considerable depth, in order
to see whether the clock move more quickly
from the increased power of the weights. | But,
if this power be found to diminish at a height,
and to increase in subterraneous places, the at-
* A close approximation to the truth and the experiment
pointed ont, is very ingenious ; indeed, the oscillatims of
the pendulum, moving by its own weight, have since been
used as the most delicate tests of the variation of gravity
from the equator towards the poles.
+ The attractive power to the centre is, on the whole, di-
minished in mines, because the earth above attracts in the
contrary direction.
IJOOK Tl
NOVUM ORGANUM.
309
rraction of tWr corporeal ruass of the earth may
be taken as the cause of weitrht
Again, let the required nature he the polarity
of the steel needle, when touched with the
mairnet. We have these two ways with regard
to this nature. Either the touch of the ma<rnet
must communicate polarity to the steel towards
the north and south, or else it may only excite
and prepare it, whilst the actual motion is occa-
sioned by the presence of the earth, which Gilbert
considers to be the case, and endeavours to prove
with so much labour. The particulars he has
intjuired into with such iNgenious zeal amount to
this: 1. An iron bolt placed for a long time to-
wards the north and south acquires polarity from
this habit, without the touch of the magnet; as
if the earth itself operating but weakly from its
distance, (for the surface or outer crust of the
earth does not, in his opinion, possess the mag-
netic power,) yet, by long continued motion, could
supply the place of the magnet, excite the iron,
and convert and change it when excited. 2. Iron,
at a red or white heat, when quenched in a direc-
tion parallel to the north and south, also acquires
polarity without the touch of the magnet; as if
the parts of iron being put in motion by ignition,
and afterwards recovering themselves, were at
the moment of being quenched more susceptible
and sensitive of the power emanating from the
earth, than at other times, and, therefore, as it
were, excited. But these points, though well
observed, do not completely prove his assertion.
An instance of the cross on this point might
oe as follows. Let a small magnetic globe be
taken, and its poles marked, and placed towards
the east and west, not towards the north and
south, and let it continue thus. Then let an
untouched needle be placed over it, and suffered
to remain so for six or seven days. Now, the
needle, (fo" this is not disputed,) whilst it remains
over the mag-net, will leave the polesof the world,
and turn to those of the magnet, and, therefore,
as long as it remains in the above position will
turn to the east and west. But if the needle,
when removed from the magnet, and placed upon
a pivot, be found immediately to turn to the
north and south, or even by degrees to turn
thither, then the presence of the earth must be
considered as the cause ; but if it remains turned
as at first towards the east and west, or lose its
polarity, then that cause must be suspected, and
farther inquiry made.
Again, let the required nature be the corporeal
substance of the moon, whether it be rare, fiery,
and aerial, (as most of the ancient philosophers
have thought,) or solid and dense, (as Gilbert
and many of the moderns, with some of the an-
cients, hold.)* The reasons for this latter opi-
♦ A sufficient proof of its necessary solidity is nowJifforded
by tlie attraction ol tlie sea, and the moon's motion around
ihe earth.
nion are grounded chiefly upon this, that the moon
reflects the sun's rays, and that light does not
appear capable of being reflected, except by
solids. The instance of the cross will, therefore,
(if any,) be such as to exhibit reflection by a rare
body, such as flame, if it be but sufficiently dense.
Now, certainly one of the reasons of twilight is
the reflection* of the rays of the sun by the upper
part of the atmosphere. We see the sun's rays
also reflected on fine evenings, by streaks of
moist clouds, with a splendour not less, but per-
haps more bright and glorious, than that reflected
from the body of the moon, and yet, it is not
clear that those clouds have formed into a dense
body of water. We see also that the dark air,
behind the windows at night, reflects the light
of a candle in the same manner as a dense body
would do.-j" The experiment should also be mado
of causing the sun's rays to fall through a holn
upon some dark and bluish flame. The uncon-
fined rays of the sun, when falling on faint flames,
do certainly appear to deaden them, and render
them more like white smoke than flames. These
are the only instances which occur at present of
the nature of those of the cross, and better, per-
haps, can be found. But it must always be ob-
served, that reflection is not to he expected from
flame, unless it be of some depth, for otherwise
it becomes nearly transparent. This at least may
be considered certain, that light is always eitlier
received and transmitted, or reflected by an even
surface.
Again, let the required nature be the motion of
projectiles (such as darts, arrows, and balls)
through the air. The school, in its usual manner,
treats this very carelessly, considering it enough
to distinguish it by the name of violent motion,
from that which they term natural, and as far as
regards the first percussion or impulse, satisfies
itself by its axiom, "that two bodies cannot
exist in one place, or there would be a penetration
of dimensions." With regard to this nature we
have these two crossways. The motion must
arise either from the air carrying the projected
body and collecting behind it, like a stream be-
hind boats or the wind behind straws; or from
the parts of the body itself not supporting the
impression, but pushing themselves forward in
succession to ease it. Fracastorius, and nearly
all those who have entered into any retined in-
quiry upon the subject, adopt the first. Nor can
It be doubted, that the air has some efi'ect, yet,
the other motion is, without doubt, real, as is clear
from a vast number of experiments. Amongst
* Rather the refraction — the sky or air, however, reflects the
bhie rays of light.
■(• The polished surface of the glass causes the reflection in
this case, and not the air ; and a hat or other Mark surface
put behind the window in the day time will enable the glass
to reflect distinctly for the same reason; namely, that tbe
reflected rays are not mixed and confused with those trans-
mitted from the other side of the window.
400
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book II.
ctners we may take this instance of the cross :
namely, that a thin plate or wire of iron rather
stiff, or even a reed of a pen split in two, when
drawn up and hent between the finger and thumb,
will leap forward. For it is clear, that this cannot
be attributed to the air's being collected behind
the body, because the source of motion is in the
centre of the plate or pen, and not in its ex-
tremities.
Again, let the required nature be the rapid and
powerful motion of the explosion of gunpowder,
by which such vast masses are upheaved, and
such weights discharged as we observe in lartre
mines and mortars; there are two crossways
before us, with regard to this nature. This mo-
tion is excited, either by the mere effort of the
body expanding itself when inflamed, or by the
assisting effort of the crude spirit, which escapes
rapidly from fire, and bursts violently from the
surrounding flame as from a prison. The school,
however, and common opinion, only consider the
flrst effort. For men think that they are great
philosophers, when they assert that flame, from
the form of the element, is endowed with a kind
of necessity of occupying a greater space, than the
same body had occupied when in the form of
powder, and that thence proceeds the motion in
question. In the mean time they do not observe
that although this may be true, on the supposition
of flame being generated, yet the generation may
be impeded by a weight of sufflcient force to com-
prr-ss and suffocate it; so that no such necessity
exists as they assert. They are right, indeed, in
imagining that the expansion, and the consequent
emission or removal of the opposing body, is
necessary if flame be once generated ; but such a
necessity is avoided, if the solid opposing mass
suppress the flame before it be generated. And
we in fact see that flame, especially at the moment
of its generation, is mild and gentle, and requires
a hollow space where it can play and try its force.
The great violence of the effect, therefore, cannot
be attributed to this cause: but the truth is, that
the generation of these exploding flames and fiery
blasts arises from the conflict of two bodies of a
decidedly opposite nature; the one very inflam-
mable, as is the sulphur, the other having an anti-
pathy to flame; namely, the crude spirit of the
nitre : so that an extraordinary conflict takes
place, whilst the sulphur is becoming inflamed,
as far as it can, (for the third body, the willow
jiharcoal, merely incorporates and conveniently
unites the two others,) and the spirits of nitre is
escaping, as far also as it can, and at the same
time expanding itself, (for air, and all crude sub-
fttances, and water are expanded by heat,) fanning
thus, in every direction, the flame of the sulphur
ny its escape and violence, just aS if by invisible
bellows.
Two kinds of instances of the cross might here
be used : the one of very inflammable substances.
such as sulphur and camphire, naphtha, and the
like, and their compounds, which take fire more
readily and easily than gunpowder, if left to then,
selves ; (and this shows that the effort to catch
fire does not of itself produce such a prodigious
effect;) the other of substances which avoid ar>d
repel flame, such as all salts. For we see that
when they are cast into the fire the aqueous spirit
escapes with a crackling noise before flame is pro-
d-uced, which also happens, in a less degree, in
stiff leaves ; from the escape of the aqueous part,
before the oily part has caught fire. This is more
particularly observed in quicksilver, which is not
improperly called mineral water; and which,
without any inflammation, nearly equals the force
of gunpowder, by simple explosion and expan-
sion, and is said, when mixed with gunpowder, to
increase its force.
Again, let the required nature be the transitory
nature of flame, and its momentaneous extinction.
For to us the nature of flame does not appear to
be fixed or settled, but to be generated from mo-
ment to moment, and to be every instant extin-
guished ; it being clear that those flames which
continue and last, do not owe their continuance to
the same mass of flame, hut to a continued succes-
sion of new flame regularly generated, and that
the same identical flame does not continue. This
is easily shown by removing the food or source of
the flame, when i-t at once goes out. We have
the two following cross-ways with regard to this
nature. This momentary nature either arises from
the cessation of the cause which first produced it,
as in light, sounds, and violent motions, as they
are termed, or flame may be capable by its own
nature of duration, but is subjected to some vio-
lence from the contrary natures which surround
it, and is destroyed.
We may, therefore, adopt the following in-
stance of the cross. We see to what a height
the flames rise in great conflagrations ; for as the
base of the flame becomes more extensive, its
vertex is more lofty. It appears, then, that the
commencement of the extinction takes place at
the sides, where the flame is compressed by the
air, and is ill at ease. But the centre of the
flame, which is untouched by the air, and sur-
rounded by flame, continues the same, and is not
extinguished until compressed by degrees by the
air attacking it from the sides. All flame, there-
fore, is pyramidal, having its base nearthe source,
and its vertex pointed, from its being resisted by
the air, and not supplied from the source. On
the contrary, the smoke, which is narrow at the
base, expands in its ascent, and resembles an
inverted pyramid ; because the air admits the
smoke, but compresses the flame; for, let no one
dream that the lighted flame is air, since they
are clearly heterogeneous.
The instance of the cross will be more accu-
rate, if the experiment can be made by flames of
Book II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
401
different rolours. Take, therefore, a small metal
sconce, and place a lighted taper in it, then put it
in a basin, and pour a small quantity of s])irits
of wine round the sconce, so as not to reach its
edge, and liirht the spirit. Now, the flame of the
spirit will be blue, and that of the taper yellow;
observe, therefore, whether the latter (which can
easily be distinguished from the former by its
colour, for flames do not mix immediately, as
liquids do) continue pyramidal, or tend more to
a globular figure, since there is nothing to destroy
or compress it. If the latter result be observed,
it must be considered as settled, that flame con-
tinues positively the same, whilst enclosed within
another flame, and not exposed to the resisting
force of the air.
Let this suffice for the instances of the cross.
We have dwelt the longer upon them in order
gradually to teach and accustom mankind to judge
of nature by these instances, and enlightening
experiments, and not by probable reasons.
37. We will treat of the instances of divorce
as the fifteeenth of our prerogative instances.
They indicate the separation of natures of the
most common occurrence. They differ, however,
from those subjoined to the accompanying in-
stances ; for the instances of divorce point out the
separation of a particular nature from some con-
crete substance with which it is usually found in
conjunction, whilst the hostile instances point
out the total separation of one nature from another.
They differ also from the instances of the cross,
because they decide nothing, but only inform us
that the one nature is capable of being separated
from the other. They are of use in exposing
false forms, and dissipating hasty theories derived
from obvious facts : so that they add ballast
and weight, as it were, to the understanding.
For instance, let the required natures be those
four which Telesius terms associates, and of the
same family, namely, heat, light, rarity, and mo-
bility, or promptitude to motion; yet, many
instances of divorce can be discovered between
them. Air is rare and easily moved, but neither
hot nor light, the moon is light, but not hot, boil-
ing water is warm, but not light, the motion of
the needle in the compass is swift and active, and
its substance is cold, dense, and opaque; and
there are many similar examples.
Again, let the required natures be corporeal
nature and natural action. The latter appears
incapable of subsisting without some body, yet
may we, perhaps, even here find an instance of
divorce, as in the magnetic motion, which draws
the iron to the magnet, and heavy bodies to the
globe '^f the earth: to which we may add other
actions which operate at a distance. For such
action takes place in time, by distinct moments,
not in an instant ; and in space by regular degrees
and distances. There is, therefore, some one
moment of time and some interval of space, in
Vol. III.— 51
which the power or action is suspended betwixt
the two bodies creaiing ihe motion. Our con-
sideration, then, is reduced to this, whether the
bodies which are the extremes of motion prepare
or alter the intermediate bodies, so that the powei
advances from one extreme to the other by suc-
cession and actual contact, and in the mean time
exists in some intermediate body ; or whether
there exist in reality nothing but the bodies, the
power, and the space? In the case of the rays
of light, sounds, and heat, and some other objects
which operate at a distance, it is indeed probable
that the intermediate bodies are prepared and
altered, the more so because a qualified medium
is required for their operation. 13ut the magnetic
or attractive power admits of an indifferent me-
dium, and it is not impeded in any. But if that
power or action is independent of the interme-
diate body, it follows that it is a natural power
or action, existing in a certain time and space
without any body, since it exists neither in the
extreme nor in the intermediate bodies. Hence
the magnetic action may be taken as an instance
of divorce of corporeal nature and natural action :
to which we may add as a corollary, and an ad-
vantage not to be neglected, that it may be taken
as a proof of essence and substance being sepa-
rate and incorporeal, even by those who philoso-
phize according to the senses. For if natural
power and action emanating from a body can
exist at any time and place entirely without any
body, it is nearly a proof that it can also emanate
originally from an incorporeal substance. For a
corporeal nature appears to be no less necessary
for supporting and conveying, than for exciting
or generating natural action.
38. Next follow five classes of instances
which w^e are wont to call by the general term
of instances of the lamp, or of immediate inform-
ation. They are such as assist the senses.
For since every interpretation of nature sets out
from the senses, and leads, by a regular, fixed, and
well established road, from the perceptions of the
senses to those of the understanding, (which are
true notions and axioms,) it necessarily follows
that, in proportion as the representatives, or mi-
nisterings of the senses, are more abundant and
accurate, every thing else must be more easy and
successful.
The first of these five sets of instances of the
lamp strengthen, enlarge, and correct the imme-
diate operations of the senses. The second re-
duce to the sphere of the senses such matters as
are beyond it. The third indicate the continued
process or series of such things and motions, as,
for the most part, are only observed in their ter-
mination, or in periods. The fourth supply the
absolute wants of the senses. The fifth excite
their attention and observation, and, at the same
time, limit the subtilty of things. We will now
proceed to speak of them singly.
2 L 2
402
NOVUM OliGANUM.
Book [I
39. In the sixteenth rank, then, of prerogative
instances, we will place the instances of the
dnnr or gate, by which name we designate such
as assist the immediate action of the senses. It
is obvious, that sight holds the first rank among
the senses, with regard to information, for which
reason we must seek principally helps for that
sense. These helps appear to be threefold ;
either to enable it to perceive objects not natural-
ly seen, or to see them from a greater distance,
or to see them more accurately and distinctly.
We have an example of the first (not to speak
of spectacles and the like, which only correct
and remove the infirmity of a deficient sight, and
therefore give no further information) in the
lately invented microscopes, which exhibit the
latent and invisible minutiae of substances, and
their hidden formation and motion, by wonder-
fully increasing their apparent magnitude. By
their assistance we behold, with astonishment,
the accurate form and outline of a flea, moss, and
animalculae, as well as their previously invisible
colour and motion. It is said also that an appa-
rently straight line, drawn with a pen or pencil,
is discovered by such a microscope to be very
uneven and curved, because neither the motion
Df the hand, when assisted by a ruler, nor the
impression of ink or colour are really regular, al-
though the irregularities are so minute as not to
be perceptible without the assistance of the mi-
croscope. Men have (as is usual in new and
wonderful discoveries) added a superstitious re-
mark, that the microscope sheds a lustre on the
works of nature, and dishonour on those of art ;
which only means that the tissue of nature is
much more delicate than that of art. For the
microscope is only of use for minute objects; and
Democritus, perhaps, if he had seen it, would
have exulted in the thought of a means discover-
ed for seeing his atom, which he affirmed to be
entirely invisible. But the inadequacy of these
microscopes, for the observation of any but the
most minute bodies — and even of those, if parts
of a larger body, destroys their utility. For if
the invention could be extended to greater bodies,
or the minute parts of greater bodies, so that a
piece of cloth would appear like a net, and the
latent minutise and irregularities of gems, liquids, !
urine, blood, wounds, and many other things j
could be rendered visible, the greatest advantage
would, without doubt, be derived.
We have an instance of the second kind in the
telescope, discovered by the wonderful exertions
if Galileo ; by the assistance of which a nearer in- \
tercourse may be opened (as by boats or vessels) I
between ourselves and the heavenly objects. For I
by its aid we aie assured that the milky way is but '
a knot or constellation of small stars, clearly de- j
fined and separate, which the ancients only con-
jectured to be the case : whence it appears to be !
capable of demonstration, that the spaces of the ,
planetary orbits (as they are termed) are not
quite destitute of other stars, but that the heaven
begins to glitter with stars before we arrive at the
starry sphere; although they may be too small to
be visible without the telescope. By the telescope,
also, we can behold the revolutions of smaller stars
round Jupiter, whence it may be conjectured that
there are several centres of motion among the
stars. By its assistance, also, the irregularity of
light and shade on the moon's surface is more
clearly observed and determined, so as to allow of
a sort of selenography. By the telescope we see
the spots in the sun, and other similar phenome-
na; all of which are most noble discoveries, as
far as credit can be safely given to demonstrations
of this nature, which are, on this account, very
suspicious, namely, that experiment stops at
these few, and nothing further has yet been dis-
covered by the same method, among objects
equally worthy of consideration.
We have instances of the third kind in measur-
ing rods, astrolabes, and the like, which do not
enlarge, but correct and guide the sight. If there
be other instances which assist the other senses
in their immediate and individual action, yet, if
they add nothing further to their information, they
are not opposite to our present purpose, and we
have therefore said nothing of them.
40. In the seventeenth rank of prerogative in-
stances we will place cj7m^ instances, (to borrow
a term from the tribunals,) because they cite those
things to appear, which have not yet appeared.
We are wont also to call them invoking instances,
and their property is that of reducing to the
sphere of the senses objects which do not imme-
diately fall within it.
Objects escape the senses either from their dis-
tance, or the intervention of other bodies ; or
because they are not calculated to make an im-
pression upon the senses; or because they are not
in sufficient quantity to strike the senses; or
because there is not sufficient time for their acting
upon the senses; or because the impression is too
violent; or because the senses are previously filled
and possessed by the object, so as to leave no
room for any new motion. These remarks apply
principally to sight and next to touch : which two
senses act extensively in giving information, and
that too upon general objects, whilst the remain-
ing three inform us only, as it were, by their im-
mediate action, and as to specific objects.
There can be no reduction to the sphere of the
senses in the first case, unless, in the place of the
object, which cannot be perceived on account of
the distance, there be added or substituted some
other object, which can excite and strike the
sense from a greater distance, as in the communi-
cation of intelligence by fires, bells, and the like.
In the second case we effect this reduction by
rendering those things which are concealed by the
interposition of other bodies, and which cannot
Book If.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
403
easily be laid open, evident to the senses by means
of tliat which lies at the surface, or proceeds from
the interior; thus the state of the body is judged
of by the pulse, urine, &c.
The third and fourth cases apply to many sub-
jects, and the reduction to the sphere of the senses
must be obtained from every quarter in the inves-
tigration of things. There are many examples.
It is obvious that air, and spirit, and the like,
whose whole substance is extremely rare and de-
licate, can neither be seen nor touched; a reduc-
tion therefore to the senses becomes necessary in
every investigation relating to such bodies.
Let the required nature, therefore, be the action
and motion of the spirit enclosed in tangible
bodies. F'or every tangible body, with which
we are acquainted, contains an invisible and in-
tangible spirit, over which it is drawn, and which
it seems to clothe. This spirit being emitted
from a tangible substance, leaves the body con-
tracted and dry, when retained it softens and melts
it, when neither wholly emitted nor retained, it
models it, endows it with limbs, assimilates,
manifests, organizes it, and the like. All these
points are reduced to the sphere of the senses by
manifest effects.
For in every tangible and inanimate body the
enclosed spirit at first increases, and, as it were,
feeds on the tangible parts which are most open
and prepared for it; and when it has digested and
modified them, and turned them into spirit, it
escapes with them. This formation and increase
of spirit is rendered sensible by the diminution of
wpight : for in every desiccation something is lost
in quantity, not only of the spirit previously exist-
ing in the body, but of the body itself, which was
previously tangible, and has been recently changed ,
for the spirit itself has no weight. The departure
or emission of spirit is rendered sensible in the rust
of metals, and other putrefactions of a like nature,
which stop before they arrive at the rudiments of
life, which belong to the third species of process.*
In compact bodies the spirit does not find pores
and passages for its escape, and is therefore
obliged to force out, and drive before it, the tan-
gible parts also, which consequently protrude ;
whence arises rust, and the like. The contraction
of the tangible parts, occasioned by the emission
of part of the spirit, (whence arises desiccation,)
is rendered sensible by the increased hardness of
the substance, and still more by the fissures, con-
tractions, shrivelling, and folds of the bodies thus
produced. For, the parts of wood split and con-
tract, skins become shrivelled, and not only that,
•Rust is now well known to be a chymical combination
of oxyj?en with the metal, and the metal when rusty, acquires
additional weight. The theory of spirits to which Bacon fre-
quently recurs is very obscure, especially as applied to inani-
mate objects. His theory as to the generation of animals, is
deduced from the erroneous notion of the possibility of spon-
taneous generation, (as it was termed.) See the next para-
Kraph but one.
but, if the spirit be emitted suddenly by the heat
of the fire, become so hastily contracted as to
twist and roll themselves up.
On the contrary, when the spirit is retained,
and yet expanded and excited by heat, or the
like, (which happens in solid and tenacious
bodies,) then the bodies are softened, as in hot
iron ; or flow, as in metals ; or melt, as in gums,
wax, and the like. The contrary effects of heat,
therefore, (hardening some substances and melt-
ing others,) are easily reconciled,* because the
spirit is emitted in the former, and agitated and
retained in the latter ; the latter action is that of
heat and the spirit, the former that of ihe tangi-
ble parts themselves, after the spirit's emission.
But when the spirit is neither entirely retained
nor emitted, but only strives ?nd exercises itself
within Its limits, and meet? with tangible parts,
which obey, and readily follow it wherever it
leads them ; then follows the formation of an or-
ganic body, and of limbs, and the other vital
actions of vegetables and plants. These are ren-
dered sensible, chiefly by diligent observation of
the first beginnings, and rudiments or elTects of
life in animalculae sprung from putrefaction, as in
the eggs of ants, worms, mosses, frogs after rain,
&c. Both a mild heat and a pliant substance,
however, are necessary for the production of life,
in order that the spirit may neither hastily escape,
nor be restrained by the obstinacy of the parts,
so as not to be able to bend and model them like
wax.
Again, the difference of spirit, which is im
portant and of effect in many points, (as uncon-
nected spirit, branching spirit, branching and
cellular spirit, the first of which is that of all in-
animate substances, the second of vegetables, and
the third of animals,) is placed, as it were, be-
fore the eyes, by many reducing instances.
Again, it is clear that the more refined tissue
and conformation of things (though forming the
whole body of visible or tangible objects) are
neither visible nor tangible. Our information,
therefore, must here, also, be derived from reduc-
tion to the sphere of the senses. But the most
radical and primary difference of formation, de-
pends on the abundance or scarcity of mattei
within the same space or dimensions. For, the
other formations, which regard the dissimilarity
of the parts contained in the same body, and their
collocation and position, are secondary in compa-
rison with the former.
Let the required nature then be the expansion,
or coherence of matter in different bodies, or tlic
quantity of matter relative to the dimensions of
each. For, there is nothing in nature more true,
than the twofold proposition, "That nothing'
proceeds from nothing," and "that nothing is
reduced to nothing," but, that the quantum, or
• Limus ut hie durescit, et haec ut cera liquescit
Uno eodemque igni.- -Virg. Eel viii.
404
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book 11.
sum total of matter, is constant, and is neither
increased nor diminished. Nor is it less true,
" that out of this given quantity of matter, there
is a greater or less quantity contained within the
same space or dimensions, according to the differ-
ence of bodies ;" as, for instance, water contains
more than air. So that, if any one were to
assert, that a given content of water can be
changed into an equal content of air, it is the
same as if he were to assert that something can
be reduced into nothing. On the contrary, if any
one were to assert, that a given content of air can
be changed into an equal content of water, it is
the same as if he were to assert that something
can proceed from nothing. From this abundance,
or scarcity of matter, are properly derived the no-
tions of density and rarity, which are taken in
various and promiscuous senses.
' This third assertion may be considered as being
also sufficiently certain ; namely, that the greater
or less quantity in this or that body, may, by
comparison, be reduced to calculation, and exact,
or nearly exact proportion. Thus, if one should
say that there is such an accumulation of matter
in a given quantity of gold, that it would require
twenty-one times the quantity in dimension of
spirits of wine, to make up the same quantity of
matter, it would not be far from the truth.
The accumulation of matter, however, and its
relative quantity are rendered sensible by weight.
For weight is proportionate to the quantity of
matter, as regards the parts of a tangible sub-
stance, but spirit, and its quantity of matter, are
not to be computed by weight, which spirit rather
diminishes than augments.
We have made a tolerably accurate table of
weight, in which we have selected the weights
and size of all the metals, the principal minerals,
stones, liquids, oils, and many other natural and
artificial bodies : a very useful proceeding both as
regards theory and practice, and which is capable
of revealing many unexpected results. Nor is
this of little consequence, that it serves to demon-
strate that the whole range of the variety of tangi-
ble bodies, with which we are acquainted, (we
mean tolerably close, and not spongy, hollow
bodies, which are for a considerable part filled
with air,) does not exceed the ratio of one to
twenty-one. So limited is nature, or at least that
part of it to which we are most habituated.
We have also thought it deserving our industry,
1o try if we could arrive at the ratio of intangible
or pneumatic bodies to tangible bodies; which
we attempted by the following contrivance. We
took a vial capable of containing about an ounce,
using a small vessel in order to effect the subse-
quent evaporation with less heat. We filled this
vial, almost to the neck, with spirits of wine, se-
U^cting It as the tangible body which, by our table,
was the rarest, and contained a less quantity of
loatter in a given space, than all other tangible
bodies which are compact and not hollow. Then
we noted exactly the weight of the liquid and
vial. We next took a bladder, containing about
two pints, and squeezed all the air out of it, as
completely as possible, and until the sides of the
bladder met. We first, however, rubbed the blad-
der gently with oil, so as to make it air-tight, by
closing its pores with the oil. We tied the blad-
der tightly round the mouth of the vial, which we
had inserted in it, and with a piece of waxed
thread to make it fit better and more tightly, and
then placed the vial on some hot coals in a bra-
zier. The vapour or steam of the spirit, dilated
and become aeriform by the heat, gradually
swelled out the bladder and stretched it in every
direction like a sail. As soon as that was accom-
plished, we removed the vial from the fire and
placed it on a carpet, that it might not be cracked
by the cold : we also pricked the bladder imme-
diately, that the steam might not return to a liquid
state by the cessation of heat, and confound the
proportions. W^e then removed the bladder, and
again took the weight of the spirit which remain-
ed; and so calculated the quantity which had been
converted into vapour, or an aeriform shape, and
then examined how much space had been occu-
pied by the body in its form of spirits of wine in
the vial, and how much on the other hand had
been occupied by it in its aeriform shape in the
bladder, and subtracted the results; from which
it was clear, that the body, thus converted and
changed, acquired an expansion of one hundred
times beyond its former bulk.
Again, let the required nature be heat or cold,
of such a degree as not to be sensible from its
weakness. They are rendered sensible by the
thermometer as we described it above ;* for the
cold and heat are not actually perceived by the
touch, but heat expands and cold contracts the
air. Nor, again, is that expansion or contraction
of the air in itself visible, but the air when ex-
panded depresses the water, and when contracted
raises it, which is the first reduction to sight.
Again, let the required nature be the mixture
of bodies ; namely, how much aqueous, oleagin-
ous, or spirituous, ashy or salt parts they contain ;
or, as a particular example, how much butter,
cheese, and whey there is in milk, and the like 1
These things are rendered sensible by artificial
and skilful separations in tangible substances,
and the nature of the spirit in them, though not
immediately perceptible, is nevertheless discover-
ed by the various motions and efforts of bodies.
And, indeed, in this branch men have laboured
hard in distillations and artificial separations, but
with little more success than in their other expe-
riments now in use ; their methods being mere
guesses and blind attempts, and more industrious
than intelligent ; and what is worst of all, without
* See Table of Degrees, No. 38.
Book II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
405
nny imitation or rivalry of nature, but rather by
vii>leiit heats and too energetic agents, to the de-
struction of any delicate c information, in which
principally consist the hidden virtues and sym-
pathies. Nor do men in these separations ever
attend to or observe what we have before pointed
out ; namely, that in attacking bodies by fire, or
other methods, many qualities are superinduced
by the fire itself, and the other bodies used to
effect the separation, which were not originally in
the compound. Hence arise most extraordinary
fallacies. For the mass of vapour, which is
emitted from water by fire, for instance, did not
exist as vapour or air in the water, but is chiefly
created by the expansion of the water by the heat
of the fire.
So, in general, all delicate experiments on na-
tural or artificial bodies, by which the genuine
are distinguished from the adulterated, and the
better from the more common, should be referred
to this division ; for they bring that which is not
the object of the senses within their sphere.
They are, therefore, to be everywhere diligently
sought after.
With regard to the fifth cause of objects escap-
ing our senses, it is clear that the action of the
sense takes place by motion, and this motion
is time. If. therefore, the motion of any body
be either so slow, or so swift, as not to be pro-
portioned to the necessary momentum which
operates on the senses, the object is not perceived
at all ; as in the motion of the hour hand, and
that again of a musket ball. The motion which
is imperceptible by the senses from its slowness,
is readily and usually rendered sensible by the
accumulation of motion; that which is imper-
ceptible from its velocity, has not, as yet, been
well measured ; it is necessary, however, that
this should be done, in some cases, with a view
to a proper investigation of nature.
The sixth case, where the sense is impeded by
the power of the object, admits of a reduction to
the sensible sphere, either by removing the ob-
ject to a greater distance, or by deadening its ef-
fects by the interposition of a medium, which
may weaken, and not destroy the object; or by
the admission of its reflection, where the direct
impression is too strong, as that of the sun in a
basin of water.
The seventh case, where the senses are so
overcharged with the object, as to leave no fur-
ther room, scarcely occurs, except in the smell
or taste, and is not of much consequence as re-
gards our present subject. Let what we have
said, therefore, sufiice with regard to the reduc-
tion to the sensible sphere of objects not naturally
within its compass.
Sometimes, however, this reduction is not ex-
tended to the senses of man, but to those of some
other animal, whose senses, in some points, ex-
ceed those of man: as (with regard to some
scents) to that of the dog, and with regard to
light existing imperceptibly in the air, when not
illumined from any extraneous source, to the
sense of the cat, the owl, and other animals which
see by night. For Tclesius has well observed
that there appears to be an original portion of
light even in the air itself, although but slight
and meagre, and of no use for the most part to
the eyes of men, and those of the generality of
animals; because those animals to whose senses
this light is proportioned, can see by night, which
does not, in all probability, proceed from tlieir
seeing either without light, or by any internal
light.
Here, too, we would observe, that we at pre-
sent discuss only the wants of the senses, and
their remedies; for their deceptions must be re-
ferred to the inquiries appropriated to the senses,
and sensible objects; except that important de-
ception, which makes them define objects in their
relation to man, and not in their relation to the
universe, and which is only corrected by uni-
versal reasoning and philosophy.
41. In the eighteenth rank of prerogative in-
stances, we will class the instances of the road,
which we are also wont to call itinerant and
jointed instances. They are such as indicate the
gradually continued motions of nature. This
species of instances escapes rather our observa-
tion, than our senses ; for men are wonderfully
indolent upon this subject, consulting nature in a
desultory manner, and at periodic intervals, when
bodies have been regularly finished and com-
pleted, and not during her work. But if any one
were desirous of examining and contemplating
the talents and industry of an artificer, he would
not merely wish to see the rude materials of his
art, and then his work when finished, but rather
to be present whilst he is at labour, and proceed-
ing with his work. Something of the same kind
should be done with regard to nature. For in
stance, if any one investigate the vegetation of
plants, he should observe from the first sowing
of any seed (which can easily be done, by pull-
ing up every day seeds which have been two,
three, or four days in the ground, and examining
them diligently) how and when the seed begins
to swell and break, and be filled, as it were, with
spirit; then how it begins to burst the bark and
push out fibres, raising itself a little at the samt
time, unless the ground be very stiff"; then how
it pushes out these fibres, some downwards foi
roots, others upwards for the stem ; sometimes,
also, creeping laterally, if it find the earth open
and more yielding on one side, and the like.
The same should be done in observing the hatch
ing of eggs, where we may easily see the pro
cess of animation and organization, and whai
parts are formed of the yolk, and what of the.
white of the eg^, and the like. The same may
be said of the inquiry into the formation of aui-
406
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book II.
tnals from piitrefaction ; for it would not be so
humane to inquire into perfect and terrestrial ani-
mals, by cutting the fetus from the womb ; but
opportunities may perhaps be offered of abortions,
animals killed in hunting, and the like. Na-
ture, therefore, must, as it were, be watched, as
being more easily observed by night than by day ;
for contemplations of this kind may be considered
as carried on by night, from the minuteness and
perpetual burning of our watch-light. The same
must be attempted with inanimate objects, which
we have ourselves done by inquiring into the
opening of liquids by fire. For the mode in
which water expands is different from that ob-
served in wine, vinegar, or verjuice, and very
different again from that observed in milk and
oil, and the like; and this was easily seen, by
boiling them with slow heat, in a glass vessel,
through which the whole may be clearly per-
ceived. But we merely mention this, intending
to treat of it more at large and more closely when
we come to the discovery of the latent process ;
for it should always be remembered that we do
not here treat of things themselves, but merely
propose examples.
42. In the nineteenth rank of prerogative in-
stances we will class suppkmeniary or substitu-
tive instances, which we are also wont to call
instances of refuge. They are such as supply
information, where the senses are entirely defi-
cient, and we, therefore, have recourse to them
when appropriate instances cannot be obtained.
This substitution is twofold, either by approxima-
tion or by analogy. For instance; there is no
known medium, which entirely prevents the effect
of the magnet in attracting iron, neither gold, nor
silver, nor stone, nor glass, wood, water, oil,
cloth, or fibrous bodies, air, flame, or the like.
Yet, by accurate experiment, a medium may per-
haps be found which would deaden its effect,
more than another comparatively and in degree ;
as, for instance, the magnet would not, perhaps,
attract iron through the same thickness of gold
as of air, or the same quantity of ignited as of
cold silver, and so on: for we have not ourselves
made the experiment, but it will suffice as an
example. Again, there is no known body which
is not susceptible of heat, when brought near the
fire. Yet, air becomes warm much sooner than
stone. These are examples of substitution by
approximation.
Substitution by analogy is useful, but less sure,
a. id, therefore, to be adopted with some judgment.
It serves to reduce that which is not the object
of the senses to their sphere, not by the percepti-
ble operations of the imperceptible body, but by
the consideration of some similar perceptible
body. For instance, let the subject for inquiry
be the mixture of spirits, which are invisible
bodies. There appears to be some relation be-
tween bodies and their sources or support. Now,
the source of flame seems to be oil and fat; that
of air, water, and watery substances ; for flame
increases over the exhalation of oil, and air over
that of water. One must, therefore, consider the
mixture of oil and water, which is manifest to
the senses, since that of air and flame in general
escapes the senses. But oil and water mix very
imperfectly by composition, or stirring, whilst
they are exactly and nicely mixed in herbs, blood,
and the parts of animals Something similar,
therefore, may take place in the mixture of flame
and air in spirituous substances, not bearing mix-
ture very well by simple collision, whilst they
appear, however, to be well mixed in the spirits
of plants and animals.
Again, if the inquiry do not relate to perfect
mixtures of spirits, but merely to their composi-
tion, as whether they easily incorporate with each
other, or there be rather (as an example) certain
winds and exhalations, or other spiritual bodies,
which do not mix with common air, but only
adhere to and float in it in globules and drops, and
are rather broken and pounded by the air, than
received into, and incorporated with it; this can-
not be perceived in common air, and other aeriform
substances, on account of the rarity of the bodies,
but an image, as it were, of this process, may be
conceived in such liquids as quicksilver, oil,
water, and even air, when broken and dissipated
it ascends in small portions through water, and
also in the thicker kinds of smoke; lastly, in
dust, raised and remaining in the air, in all of
which there is no incorporation : and the above
representation in this respect is not a bad one, if
it be first diligently investigated, whether there
can be such a difference of nature between spi-
rituous substances, as between liquids, for, then,
these images might conveniently be substituted
by analogy.
And although we have observed of these sup-
plementary instances, that information is to be
derived from them, when appropriate instances
are wanting, by way of refuge, yet, we would
have it understood, that they are also of great
use, when the appropriate instances are at hand,
in order to confirm the information afforded by
them ; of which we will speak more at length,
when our subject leads us, in due course, to the
supports of induction.
43. In the twentieth rank of prerogative in-
stances we will place lancing instances, which
we are also wont (but for a different reason) to
call twitching instances. We adopt the latter
name, because they twitch the understanding, and
the former because they pierce nature, whence we
style them occasionally the instances of Demo-
critus.* They are such as warn the understand-
ing of the admirable and exquisite subtility of
nature, so that it becomes roused and awakened
♦ Alluding to his theory of atoms.
Book II.
NOVUM OKGANUM
407
to attention, observation, and proper inquiry : as,
for instance, that a little drop of ink siiould be
drawn out into so many letters ; that silver merely
gilt on its surface should be stretched to such a
lenirth of gilt wire; that a little worm, such as
you may find on tlie skin, should possess both a
spirit and a varied conformation of its parts ; that
a little saiTron should imbue a whole tub of water
with its colour ; that a little musk or aroma should
imbue a much greater extent of air with its per-
fume; that a cloud of smoke should be raised by
a little incense; that such accurate differences
of sounds as articulate words should be conveyed
in all directions through the air, and even pene-
trate the pores of wood and water, (though they
become much weakened ;) that they should be
moreover reflected, and that with such distinct-
ness and velocity; that light and colour should
for such an extent, and so rapidly pass through
solid bodies, such as glass and water, with so
great and so exquisite a variety of images, and
should be refracted and reflected ; that the mag-
net should attract through every description of
body, even the most compact; but (what is still
more wonderful) that in all these cases the
action of one should not impede that of another
in a common medium, such as air; and that
there should be borne through the air, at the
same time, so many images of visible objects, so
many impulses of articulation, so many diflerent
perfumes, as of the violet, rose, &c., besides cold
and heat, and magnetic attractions; all of them,
I say, at once, without any impediment from
each other, as if each had its paths and peculiar
passage set apart for it, without infringing
against or meeting each other.
To these lancing instances, however, we are
wont, not without some advantage, to add those
which we call the limits of such instances.
Thus, in the cases we have pointed out, one
action does not disturb or impede another of a
different nature, yet those of a similar nature sub-
due and extinguish each other; as the light of
the sun does that of the candle, the sound of a
cannon that of the voice, a strong perfume a more
delicate one, a powerful heat a more gentle one,
a plate of iron between the magnet and other iron
the effect of a magnet. But the proper place for
mentioning these will be also amongst the supports
of induction.
44. We have now spoken of the instances
which assist the senses, and which are principal.
!y of service as regards information ; for informa-
tion begins from the senses. But our whole
labour terminates in practice, and as the former
is the beginning, so is the latter the end of our
subject. The following instances, therefore, will
be those which are chiefly useful in practice.
Thev ire comprehf-nded in two classes, and are
seven in number. We call them all by the gene-
ral naaie of practical instances. Now, there are
two defects in practice, and as many divisions of
important instances. Practice is either deceptive
or too laborious. It is generally deceptive, (espe-
cially after a diligent examination of natures,) on
account of the power and actions of bodies being
ill defined and determined. Now, the powers and
actions of the bodies are defined and determined
either by space or by time, or by the quantity at
a given period, or by the predominance of energy ;
and if these four circumstances be not well and
diligently considered, the sciences may indeed be
beautiful in theory, but are of no effect in practice.
We call the four instances referred to this class,
niathematical instances and instances of measure.
Practice is laborious either from the multitude
of instruments, or the bulk of matter and sub-
stances requisite for any given work. Those in-
stances, therefore, are valuable, which either
direct practice to that which is of most conse-
quence to mankind, or lessen the number of in-
struments, or of matter to be worked upon. We
assign to the three instances relating to this class
the common name of propitious or benevolent
instances. We will now separately discuss these
seven instances, and conclude with them that
part of our work which relates to the prerogative
or illustrious instances.
45. In the twenty-first rank of prerogative
instances, we will place the instances of the rod
or rule, which we are also wont to call the
instances of completion, or non-ultra. For the
powers and motions of bodies do not ;ict and take
effect through indefinite and accidental, but
through limited and certain spaces; and it is of
great importance to practice that these should be
understood and noted in every nature which is
investigated ; not only to prevent deception, but
to render practice more extensive and efficient.
For it is sometimes possible to extend these
powers, and bring the distance, as it were, nearer,
as in the example of telescopes.
Many powers act and take effect only by actual
touch, as in the percussion of bodies; where the
one does not remove the other, unless the impel-
ling touch the impelled body. External applica-
tions in medicine, as ointment, and plasters, do
not exercise their efficacy, except when in con-
tact with the body. Lastly, the objects of touch
and taste only strike those senses when in con-
tact with their organs.
Other powers act at a distance, though it be
very small, of which but few have, as yet, been
noted, although there be more than men suspect;
this happens (to take every day-instances) when
amber or jf.t attract straws, bubbles dissoWn
bubbles, some purgative medicines draw hu-
mours from above, and the like. The magnetic
power by which iron and the magnet, or two
magnets, are attracted together, acts within a
definite and narrow sphere; but if there be any
1 magnetic power emanating from the earth, a little
408
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book it.
l»elow its surface, and affecting the needle in its
polarity, it must act at a great distance.
Again, if there be any magnetic force, which
acts by sympathy between the globe of the earth
and heavy bodies, or between that of the moon
and the waters of the sea, (as seems most proba-
ble from the particular floods and ebbs which
occur twice in the month,) or between the starry
sphere and the planets, by which they are sum-
moned and raised to their apogees; these must
all operate at very great distances,* Again,
some conflagrations and the kindling of flames
take at very considerable distances, with particu-
lar substances, as they report of the naphtha of
Babylon. Heat, too, insinuates itself at wide
distances, as does also cold, so that the masses
of ice which are broken off and float upon tiie
Northern Ocean, and are borne through the At-
lantic to the coast of Canada, become perceptible
by the inhabitants, and strike them with cold
from a distance. Perfumes also (though here
there appears to be always some corporeal emis-
sion) act at remarkable distances; as is experi-
enced by persons sailing by the coast of Florida,
or parts of Spain, where there are whole woods
of lemons, oranges, and other odoriferous plants,
or rosemary and marjorum bushes, and the like.
Lastly, the rays of light and the impression of
sound act at extensive distances.
Yet all these powers, whether acting at a small
or great distance, certainly act within definite
distances, which are well ascertained by nature :
so that there is a limit depending either on the
mass or quantity of the bodies, the vigour or
faintness of the powers, or the favourable or im-
peding nature of the medium, all of which
should be taken into account and observed. We
must also note the boundaries of violent motions,
such as missiles, projectiles, wheels, and the
like, since they are also manifestly confined to
certain limits.
Some motions and virtues are to be found of a
directly contrary nature to these, which act in
contact, but not at a distance ; namely, such as
operate at a distance, and not in contact, and
again act with less force at a less distance, and
the reverse. Sight, for instance, is not easily
effective in contact, but requires a medium and
distance ; although I remember having heard from
a person, deserving of credit, that in being cured
of a cataract, (which was done by putting a small
silver needle within the first coat of the eye, to
remove the thin pellicle of the cataract, and force
it into a corner of the eye,) he had distinctly seen
the needle moving across the pupil. Still, though
this may be true, it is clear that large bodies can-
not be seen well or distinctly, unless at the vertex
jf d cone, where the rays from the object meet at
t^ume distance from the eye. In old persons, the
* Obgexve the approximation to Newton's theory.
eye sees better if the onject be moved a Utile
farther, and not nearer. Again, it is certain, that
in projectiles the impact is not so virdent at too
short a distance as a little afterwardti.* Such are
the observations to be made on the measure of
motions as regards distance.
There is another measure of motion in s])ace
which must not be passed over, not relating to
progressive, but spherical motion : that is, the
expansion of bodies into a greater, or their con-
traction into a lesser sphere. For, in our measure
of this motion, we must inquire what degree of
compression or extension bodies easily and readily
admit of, according to their nature, and at what
point they begin to resist it, so as, at last, to bear
it no farther ; as, when an inflated bladder is com-
pressed, it allows a certain compression of the
air, but, if this be increased, the air does not suf-
fer it, and the bladder is burst.
We have proved this by a more delicate expe-
riment. We took a metal bell, of a light and
thin sort, such as is used for salt-cellars, and im-
merged it in a basin of water, so as to carry the
air contained in its interior down with it to the
bottom of the basin. We had first, however,
placed a small globe at the bottom of the basin,
over which we placed the bell. The result was,
that if the globe were small, compared with the
interior of the bell, the air would contract itself,
and be compressed without being forced out, but,
if it were too large for the air readily to yield to
it, the latter became impatient of the pressure,
raised the bell partly up, and ascended in bub-
bles.
To prove, also, the extension (as well as the
compression) which air admits of, we adopted the
following method. We took a glass egSi with a
small hole at one end ; we drew out the air by
violent suction at this hole, and then closed the
hole with the finger, immersed the egg in water,
and then removed the finger. The air being con-
strained by the effort made in suction, and dilated
beyond its natural state, and, therefore, striving
to recover and contract itself, (so that if the egg
had not been immersed in water, it would have
drawn in the air with a hissing sound,) now drew
in a suflicient quantity of water to allow the air
to recover its former dimensions. f
It is well ascertained, that rare bodies (such as
air) admit of considerable contraction, as has
been before observed ; but tangible bodies (such
as water) admit of it much less readily, and to a
less extent. We investigated the latter point by
the following experiment.
We had a leaden globe made, capable of con-
taining about two pints, wine measure, and of
tolerable thickness, so as to support considerable
♦ Query.
t This passage shows that the pressure of the external at
mosphere, which forces the water into the egg, was not. <n
Bacon's time, understoou.
Book n.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
409
pressure. We poured water into it tliroutrh an |
aperture, which we afterwards closed with melted
lead, as soon as the globe was filled with water, I
sr that tlie whole became perfectly solid. We 1
next flattened the two opposite sides with a heavy I
hammer, which necessarily caused the water to
occupy a less space, since the sphere is the solid
of greatest content; and when hammerinij failed,
from the resistinee of the water, we made use of
a mill or press, till at last the water, refusing to
submit to a greater |)ressure, exuded, like a fine
dew, through the solid lead. We then computed
the extent to which the original space had been
reduced, and concluded that water admitted such
a degree of compression when constrained by
great violence.
The more solid, dry, or compact bodies, such
as stones, wood, and metals, admit of much less,
and, indeed, scarcely any perceptible compression,
or expansion, but escape by breaking, slipping
forward, or other efforts; as appears in bending
wood, or steel for watch-springs, in projectiles,
hammering, and many other motions, all of which,
together with their degrees, are to be observed
and examined in the investigation of nature,
either to a certainty, or by estimation, or compari-
son, as opportunity permits.
46. In the twenty-second rank of prerogative
instances, we will place the instances of the
course, which we were also wont to call water
instances; borrowing our expression from the
water hour-glass, employed by the ancients in-
stead of those with sand. They are such as
measure nature by the moments of time, as the
last instances do by the degrees of space. For
all motion or natural action takes place in time,
more or less rapidly, but still in determined mo-
ments, well ascertained by nature. Even those
actions which appear to take effect suddenly, and
in the twinkling of an eye, (as we express it,) are
found to admit of greater or less rapidity.
In the first place, then, we see that the return
of the heavenly bodies to the same place, takes
place in regular times, as does the flood and ebb
of the sea. The descent of heavy bodies towards
the earth, and the ascent of light bodies towards
the heavenly sphere, take place in definite times,
according to the nature of the body, and of the
medium through which it moves. The sailing
of ships, the motions of animals, the transmission
of projectiles, all take place in times, the sums
of which can be computed. With regard to heat,
we see that boys in winter bathe their hands in
the flame without being burned ; and conjurors, by
quick and regular movements, overturn vessels
filled with wine or water, and replace them with-
out spilling the liquid, with several similar in-
stances. The compression, expansion, and erup-
tion of several bodies, takes place more or less
rapidly, according to the nature of the body, and
Its motion, but still in definite moments.
Vol. III.— 52
In the explosion of several cannon at once,
(which are sometimes heard at the distance of
thirty miles,) the sound of those nearest to tho
spot, is heard before that of the most distant.
Kven in sight, (whose action is most rapid,) it is
clear that a definite time is necessary for its ex-
ertion, which is proved by certain objects being
invisible from the velocity of their motion, such
as a musket ball. For the flight of a ball is too
swift to allow an impression of its figure to be
conveyed to the sight.
This last instance, and others of a like nature,
have sometimes excited in us a most marvellous
doubt, no less than whether the image of the sky
and stars is perceived as at the actual moment of
its existence, or rather a little after, and whether
there is not (with regard to the visible appearance
of the heavenly bodies) a true and apparent time,
as well as a true and apparent place, which is
observed by astronomers in parallaxes.* It ap-
peared so incredible to us, that the images or
radiations of heavenly bodies could suddenly be
conveyed through such immense spaces to the
sight, and it seemed that they ought rather to be
transmitted in a definite time. That doubt, how-
ever, (as far as regards any great difference be-
tween the true and apparent time,) was subse-
quently completely set at rest, when we consider
the infinite loss and diminution of size as regards
the real and apparent magnitude of a star, occa-
sioned by its distance, and at the same time ob-
served at how great a distance (at least sixty
miles) bodies which are merely white can be
suddenly seen by us. For there is no doubt, that
the light of heavenly bodies not only far surpass
the vivid appearance of white, but even the light
of any flame (with which we are acquainted) in
the vigour of its radiation. The immense velocity
of the bodies themselves, which is perceived in
their diurnal motion, and has so astonished think-
ing men, that they have been more ready to believe
in the motion of the earth, renders the motion of
radiation from them (marvellous as it is in its
rapidity) more worthy of belief. That which has
weighed most with us, however, is, that if there
were any considerable interval of time between
the reality and the appearance, the images would
often be intfcrrupted and confused by clouds
formed in the mean time, and similar disturbances
of the medium. Let this suffice with regard to
the simple measures of time.
It is not merely the absolute, but still more the
relative measure of motions and actions which
must be inquired into, for this latter is of great
use and application. We perceive that the flame
of fire-arms is seen sooner than the sound is heard,
although the ball must have struck the air before
the flame, which was behind it, could escape : the
reason of which is, that light moves with greater
* This is a singular approx imation to Rwmer's discove'v of
time being required for the propaeaiion of light.
2M
410
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book II.
Telocity tlian sound. We perceive, also, that vi- I not altog-etlier remained there for more than one
eible images are received by the sight with greater
rapidity than they are dismissed, and for this rea-
son, a violin string touched with the finger appears
double or triple, because the new image is received
l^rfore the former one is dismissed. Hence, also,
rings when spinning, appear globular, and a ligiited
torch, borne rapidly along at night, appears to have
a tail. Upon the principle of the inequality of
motion, also, Galileo attempted an explanation of
the flood and ebb of the sea, supposing the earth
to move rapidly, and the water slowly, by which
means the water, after accumulating, would at
intervals fill back, as is shown in a vessel of
water made to move rapidly. He has, however,
imagined this on data which cannot be granted,
(namely, the earth's motion,) and, besides, does
not satisfactorily account for the tide taking place
every six hours.
An example of our present point, (the relative
measure of motion,) and, at the same time, of its
remarkable use of which we have spoken, is con-
spicuous in mines filled with gunpowder, where
immense weights of earth, buildings, and the like,
are overthrown and prostrated by a small quantity
of powder ; the reason of which is decidedly this,
that the motion of the expansion of the gunpowder
is much more rapid than that of gravity, which
would resist it, so that the former has terminated
before the latter has commenced. Hence, also, in
missiles, a strong blow will not carry them so far
as a sharp and rapid one. Nor could a small por-
tion of animal spirit in animals, especially in such
vast bodies as those of the whale and elephant,
have ever bent or directed such a mass of body,
were it not owing to the velocity of the former,
and the slowness of the latter in resisting its
motion.
In short, this point is one of the principal foun-
dations of the magic experiments, (of which we
shall presently speak,) where a small mass of
matter overcomes and regulates a much larger, if
there be but an anticipation of motion, by the
velocity of one before the other is prepared to act.
Finally, the point of the first and last should be
observed in all natural actions. Thus, in an infu-
sion of rhubarb, the purgative property is first
extracted, and then the astringent; we have ex-
perienced something of the same kind in steeping
violets in vinegar, which first extracts the sweet
and delicate odour of the flower, and then the
more earthy part, which disturbs the perfume; so
that if the violets be steeped a whole day, a much
fainter perfume is extracted than if they were
steeped for a quarter of an hour only, and then
taken out; and since the odoriferous spirit in the
violet is not abundant, let other and fresh violets
be steeped in the vinegar everv Quarter of an hour,
as many as six times, when the infusion becomes
BO strens:lhen«d, that althougfh the violets have
hour and a half, there remains a most pleasing
perfume, not inferior to the flower itself, for a
whole year. It must be observed, however, that
the perfume does not acquire its full strength, till
about a month after the infusion. In the distilla-
tion of aromatic plants macerated in spirits of
wine, it is well known that an aqueous and useless
phlegm rises first, then water containing more of
the spirit, and lastly, water containing more of the
aroma; and many observations of the like kind,
well worthy of notice, are to be made in distilla-
tions. But let these suflice as examples.
47. In the twenty-third rank of prerogative in-
stances, we will place instances of quantity,
which we are also wont to call the doses of na-
ture, (borrowing a word from medicine.) They
are such as measure the powers by the quantity
of bodies, and point out the effect of the quantity
in the degree of power. And, in the first place,
some powers only subsist in the universal quan-
tity, or such as bears a relation to the conforma-
tion and fabric of the universe. Thus the earth
is fixed, its parts fall. The waters in the sea flow
and ebb, but not in the rivers, except by the ad-
mission of the sea. Then, again, almost all par-
ticular powers act according to the greater or less
quantity of the body. Large masses of water
are not easily rendered foul, small are. New
wine and beer become ripe and drinkable in small
skins, much more readily than in large casks. If
an herb be placed in a considerable quantity of
liquid, infusion takes place rather than impregna-
tion, if in less, the reverse. A bath, therefore,
and a light sprinkling, produce different effects on
the human body. Light dew, again, never falls,
but is dissipated and incorporated with the air;
thus we see that in breathing on gems the slight
quantity of moisture, like a small cloud in the air,
is immediately dissolved. Again, a piece of the
same magnet does not attract so much iron as the
whole magnet did. There are some powers where
the smallness of the quantity is of more avail ;
as in boring, a sharp point pierces more readily
than a blunt one; the diamond, when pointed,
makes an impression on glass, and the like.
Here, too, we must not rest contented with a
vague result, but inquire into the exact proportion
of quantity requisite for a particular exertion ot
power. For one would be apt to suppose that the
power bears an exact proportion to the quantity;
that if a leaden bullet of one ounce, for instance,
would fall in a given time, one of two ounces
ought to fall twice as rapidly, which is most erro-
neous. Nor does the same ratio prevail in every
kind of power, their difference being considerable.
The measure, therefore, must be determined by
experiment, and not by probability or conjecture.
Lastly, we must in all our investigations of
nature observe what quantity, or dose, of the body
Book I.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
411
}fl requisite for a piven effect, and must at the
same time be guarded against estimating it at too
much or too little.
48. In the twenty-fourth rank of prerogative
instances, we will place wrestling instances,
which we are also wont to call instances of pre-
dominance. They are such as point out the pre-
dominance and submission of powers compared
with each other, and which of them is the more
energetic and superior, or more weak and inferior.
For the motions and ellects of bodies are com-
pounded, decomposed, and combined, no less
than the bodies themselves. We will exhibit,
therefore, the principal kinds of motions or active
powers, in order that their comparative strength,
and thence a demonstration and definition of the
instances in question, may be rendered more clear.
Let the first motion be that of the resistance of
matter, which exists in every particle, and com-
pletely prevents its annihilation ; so that no con-
flagration, weight, pressure, violence, or length
of time, can reduce even the smallest portion of
matter to nothing, or prevent it from being some-
thing, and occupying some space, and delivering
itself, (whatever straits it be put to,) by changing
its form or place, or, if that be impossible, re-
maining as it is, nor can it ever happen that it
should either be nothing or nowhere. This mo-
tion is designated by the schools (which generally
name and define every thing by its effects and in-
conveniences, rather tiian by its inherent cause)
by the axiom, " that two bodies cannot exist in
the same place," or they call it a motion, " to pre-
vent the penetration of dimensions." It is use-
less to give examples of this motion, since it exists
in every body.
Let the second motion be that which we term
the motion of connexion, by which bodies do not
allow themselves to be separated at any point from
the contact of another body, delighting, as it
were, in the mutual connexion and contact. This
is called by the schools a motion " to prevent a
vacuum." It takes place when water is drawn
up by suction or a syringe, the flesh by cupping,
or when the water remains without escaping from
perforated jars, unless the mouth be opened to
admit the air, and innumerable instances of a
like nature.
Let the third be that which we term the motion
of liberty,- by which bodies strive to deliver
themselves from any unnatural pressure or ten-
sion, and to restore themselves to the dimensions
suited to their mass ; and of which, also, there
are innumerable examples. Thus, we have ex-
amples of their escaping from pressure, in the
wnter in swimming, in the air in flying, in the
water again in rowing, and in the air in the un-
dulations of the winds, and in the springs of
watches. An exact instance of the motion of
compressed air is seen in children's popguns,
which they make by scooping out elder branches,
or some such matter, and forcing in a piece of
some pulpy root, or the like, at each end ; then
they force the root or other pellet with a ramrod
to the opposite end, from which the lower pellet
is emitted and projected with a report, and tha*
before it is touched by the other piece of root oi
pellet, or by the ramrod. We have examples of
their escape from tension, in the motion of the
air that remains in glass eggs after suction, in
strings, leather, and cloth, which recoil after ten-
sion, unless it be long continued. The schools
define this by the' term of motion "from the form
of the element;" injudiciously enough, since this
motion is to be found not only in air, water, or
fire, but in every species of solid, as wood, iron,
lead, cloth, parchment, &c., each of which has
its own proper size, and is with difliculty stretched
to any other. Since, however, this motion of
liberty is the most obvious of all, and to be seen
in an infinite number of cases, it will be as well
to distinguish it correctly and clearly; for some
most carelessly confound this with the two others
of resistance and connection ; namely, the free-
dom from pressure with the former, and that from
tension with the latter; as if bodies when com-
pressed yielded or expanded to prevent a pene-
tration of dimensions, and, when stretched,
rebounded and contracted themselves to prevent
a vacuum. But if the air, when compressed,
could be brought to the density of water, or wood
to that of stone, there would be no need of any
penetration of dimensions, and yet the compres-
sion would be much greater than they actually
admit of. So, if water could be expanded till it
became as rare as air, or stone as rare as wood,
there would be no need of a vacuum, and yet the
expansion would be much greater than they ac-
tually admit of. We do not, therefore, arrive at
a penetration of dimensions or a vacuum, before
the extremes of condensation and rarefaction,
whilst the motion we speak of stops and exerts
itself much within them, and is nothing more
than a desire of bodies to preserve their specific
density, (or, if it be preferred, their form,) and
not to desert them suddenly, but only to change
by degrees, and of their own accord. It is,
however, much more necessary to intimate to
mankind (because many other points depend
upon this) that the violent motion which we call
mechanical, and Democritus (who, in explaining
his primary motions, is to be ranked even below
the middling class of philosophers) termed the
motion of a blow, is nothing else than this motion
of liberty, namely, a tendency to relaxation from
compression. For, in all simple impulsion or
flight through the air, the body is not displaced
or moved in space, until its parts are placed in
an unnatural state, and compressed by the impel
ling force. When that takes place, the different
parts urging the other in succession, the whole m
moved, and that with a rotatory as well as pi«»
412
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book 11.
gresslve motion, in order that the parts may, hy
this means, also, set themselves at liberty, or
more readily submit. Let this suffice for the
motion in question.
Let the fourth be that which we term the mo-
tion of matter, and which is opposed to the last.
For, in the motion of liberty, bodies abhor, reject,
and avoid a new size or volume, or any new ex-
piinsion or contraction, (for these different terms
have the same meaninor,) and strive, with all their
power, to rebound and resume their former density.
On the contrary, in the motion of matter thoy are
anxious to acquire a new volume or dimension,
and attempt it willintrly and rapidly, and occa-
sionally by a most vigrorous effort, as in the ex-
ample of jjunpowder. The most powerful, or, at
least, most frequent, though not the only instru-
ments of this motion, are heat and cold. For
instance, the air, if expanded by tension, (as by
suction in the glass egtr,) strugorles anxiously to
restore itself; but if heat be applied, it strives,
on the contrary, to dilate itself, and longs for a
larger volume, regularly passing and migrating
into it, as into a new form, (as it is termed :) nor,
after a certain degree of expansion, is it anxious
to return, unless it be invited to do so by the ap-
plication of cold, which is not indeed a return,
but a fresh change. So, also, water, when con-
fined by compression, resists, and wishes to be-
come as it was before, namely, more expanded ;
but if there happen an intense and continued
cold, it changes itself readily and of its own ac-
cord, into the condensed state of ice; and if the
cold be long continued, without any intervening
warmth, (as in grottos and deep caves,) it is
changed into crystal or similar matter, and never
resumes its form.
Let the fifth be that which we term the motion
o^ continuity. We do not understand by this, sim-
ple and primary continuity with any other body,
(for that is the motion of connexion.) but the con-
tinuity of a particular body in itself. For it is
most certain, that all bodies abhor a solution of
continuity, some more and some less, but all par-
tially. In hard bodies, (such as steel and glass.)
the resistance to an interruption of continuity is
most powerfiil and efficacious, whilst, although in
liquids it appears to be faint and languid, yet it is
not altogether null, but exists in the lowest degree,
and shows itself in many experiments, such as
bubbles, the round form of drops, in thin threads
which drip from roofs, the cohesion of glutinous
substances, and the like. It is most conspicu-
ous, however, if an attempt be made to push this
separation to still smaller particles. Thus, in
mortars, the pestle produces no effect after a cer-
tain degree cf contusion, water does not penetrate
small fissures, and the air itself, notwithstanding
Its subtilty, does not penetrate the pores of solid
vessels at once, but only by long continued in-
binuation
Let the sixth be that which we term the motior,
of acquisition, or the motion of netd. It is that by
which bodies placed amongst ottiers of a hetero-
genous and, as it were, hostile nature, if they meet
with the means or opportunity of avoiding them
and uniting themselves with others of a more
analagous nature, even when these latter are not
closely allied to them, immediately seize and, as
it were, select them, and appear to consider it as
somethingacquired, (whence wederive the name,)
and to have need of these latter bodies. For in-
stance, gold, or any other metal in leaf, does not
like the neighbourhood of air; if, therefore, they
meet with any tangible and thick substance, (such
as the finger, paper, or the like,) they immediately
adhere to it, and are not easily torn from it.
Paper, too, and cloth, and the like, do not agree
with the air, which is inherent and mixed in their
pores. They readily, therefore, imbibe water or
other liquids, and get rid of the air. Sugar, or a
sponge, dipped in water or wine, and though part
of it be out of the water or wine, and at some
height above it, will yet gradually absorb them.
Hence, an excellent rule is derived for the
opening and dissolution of bodies. For, (not to
mention corrosive and strong waters, which force
their way,) if a body can be found which is more
adapted, suited, and friendly to a given solid,
than that with which it is by some necessity
united, the given solid immediately opens and
dissolves itself to receive the former, and excludes
or removes the latter.* Nor is the effect or power
of this motion confined to contact, for the electric
energy (of which Gilbert and others after him
have told so many fables) is only the energy
excited in a body by gentle friction, and which
does not endure the air, but prefers some tangible
substance, if there be any at hand.
Let the seventh be that which we term the mo-
tion of greater confrresation, by which bodies are
borne towards masses of a similar nature, for in-
stance, heavy bodies towards the earth, light to
the sphere of heaven. The schools termed this
natural motion, by a superficial consideration of
it, because produced by no external visible agent,
which made them consider it innate in the sub
stances; or, perhaps, because it does notecase,
which is little to be wondered at, since heaven
and earth are always present, whilst the causes
and sources of many other motions are sometimes
absent, and sometimes present. They, therefore,
called this perpetual and proper, because it is
never interrupted, but instantly takes place when
the others are interrupted, and they called the
others adscititious. The former, however, is in
reality weak and slow, since it yields, and is
inferior to the others as long as they act, unless
the mass of the body be great; and although this
motion have so filled men's minds, as almost to
• This is one of the mopt useful practical methods in cby
mistry at the present dav
Book II
NOVUM ORGANUM.
418
have obscured all othors, yet they know but little
about it, and commit many errors in its estimate.
Let tiie eighth be that which we term the mo-
tion o( lesser congre^atiun, by which the homoge-
neous parts in any body separate themselves from
the lieterogenous and unite togcth(>r, and whole
bodies of a similar substance coalesce and tend
towards each other, and are sometimes congre-
gated, attracted, and m( et, from some distance ;
thus, in milk the cream rises after a certain time,
and in wine the dregs and tartar sink; which
effects are not to be attributed to gravity and
levity only, so as to account for the rising of some
parts and the sinking of others, but much more to
the desire of the homogeneous bodies to meet and
unite. This motion differs from that of need in
two points: 1st. Because the latter is the stimu-
lus of a malignant and contrary nature ; whilst in
this of which we treat, (if there be no impediment
or restraint,) the parts are united by their affinity,
although there be no foreign nature to create a
struggle; 2dly. Because the union is closer and
more select. For, in the other motion, bodies
which have no great affinity unite, if they can but
avoid the hostile body, whilst in this, substances
which are connected by a decided kindred resem-
blance, come together and are moulded into one.
It is a motion existing ip all compound bodies,
and would be readily seen in each, if it were
not confined and checked by the other affec-
tions and necessities of bodies which disturb the
union.
This motion is usually confined in the three
following manners : by the torpor of the bodies ;
by the power of the predominating body ; by ex-
ternal motion. With regard to the first, it is
certain that there is more or less sluggishness in
tangible bodies, and an abhorrence of locomotion :
so that, unless excited, they prefer remaining con-
tented with their actual state, to placing them-
selves in a better position. There are three
means of breaking through this sluggishness :
heat ; the active power of a similar body ; vivid
and powerful motion. With regard to the first,
heat is, on this account, defined as that which
separates heterogeneous, and draws together ho-
mogeneous substances; a definition of the peri-
patetics, which is justly ridiculed by Gilbert,
who says it is as if one were to define man to be
that which sows wheat and plants vineyards ;
being only a definition deduced from effects, and
those but partial. But, it is "till more to be
blamed, because those effects, such as they are,
are not a peculiar property of heat, but a mere
accident, (for cold, as we shall afterwards show,
does the same,) arising from the desire of the ho-
mogeneous parts to unite; the heat then assists
them in breaking through that sluggishness,
which before restrained their desire. With re-
gard to the assistance derived from the power of
a similar body, it is most conspicuous in the
magnet when armed with 8te<»l, for it excites in
the steel a power of adhering to steel, as a iioino-
geneous substance, the power of the magnet
breaking through the sluggishness of the steel.
With regard to the assistance of motion, it is seen
in wooden arrows or points, which penetrate more
deeply into wood than if they were tipped v/ith
iron, from the similarity of the substance, the
swiftness of the motion breaking through the
sluggishness of the wood ; of which two last
experiments we have spoken above, in the apho-
rism on clandestine instances.*
The confinement of the motion of lesser con-
gregation, which arise from the power of the
predominant body, is shown in the decomposition
of blood and urine by cold. For, as long as these
substances are filled with the active spirit, which
regulates and restrains each of their component
parts, as the predominant ruler of the whole, the
several different parts do not collect themselves
separately on account of the check ; but as soon
as that spirit has evaporated, or has been choked
by the cold, then the decomposed parts unite,
according to their natural desire. Hence, it
happens, that all bodies which contain a sharp
spirit (ai% salts, and the* like) last, without de-
composition, owing to the permanent and dura-
ble power of the predominating and imperious
spirit.
The confinement of the motion of lesser con-
gregation, which arises from external motion, is
very evident in that agitation of bodies, which
preserves them from putrefaction. For all putre-
faction depends on the congregation of the homo-
geneous parts, whence, by degrees, there ensues
a corruption of the first form, (as it is called,) and
the generation of another. For, the decomposi
tion of the original form, which is itself the union
of the homogeneous parts, precedes the putrefac-
tion, which prepares the way for the generation
of another. This decomposition, if not inter-
rupted, is simple; but if there be various obsta-
cles, putrefactions ensue, which are the rudiments
of a new generation. But, if (to come to our
present point) a frequent agitation be excited, by
external motion, tlie motion towards union (which
is delicate and gentle, and requires to be free from
all external influence) is disturbed, and ceases ;
which we perceive to be the case in innumerable
instances. Thus, the daily agitation or flowing
of water prevents putrefaction; winds prevent
the air from being pestilent ; corn, turned about
and shaken in granaries, continues clean; in
short, every thing which is externally agitated,
will, with difiiculty, rot internally.
We must not omit that union of the parts of
bodies which is the principal cause of induration
and desiccation. When the spirit or moisture^
which has evaporated into spirit, has escaped
• See Aphorism 25.
2 M 2
414
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book 11
from a porous body, (such as wood, bone, parch-
ment, and the like,) the thicker parts are drawn
together, and united with a greater effort, and in-
duration or desiccation is the consequence ; and
this we attribute not so much to the motion of
connexion, (in order to prevent a vacuum,) as to
this motion of friendship and union.
Union from a distance is rare, and yet is to be
met with in more instances than are generally
observed. We perceive it when one bubble dis-
solves another, when medicines attract humours
from a similarity of substance, when one string
moves another in unison with it on different in-
struments, and the like. "We are of opinion that
this motion is very prevalent also in animal spi-
rits, but are quite ignorant of the fact. It is,
however, conspicuous in the magnet, and mag-
netized iron. Whilst speaking of the motions
of the magnet, we must plainly distinguish them,
for there are four distinct powers or effects of the
magnet which should not be confounded, although
the wonder and astonishment of mankind has
classed them together. 1. The attraction of the
magnet to the magnet, or of iron to the magnet,
or of magnetized iron to iron. 2. Its polarity
towards the north and 'south, and its variation.
3. Its penetration through gold, glass, stone, and
all other substances. 4. The communication of
power from the mineral to iron, and from iron to
iron, without any communication of the sub-
stances. Here, however, we only speak of the
first. There is also a singular motion of attrac-
tion between quicksilver and gold, so that the
gold attracts quicksilver even when made use of
in ointment, and those who work surrounded by
the vapours of quicksilver are wont to hold a
piece of gold in their mouths, to collect the exha-
lations, which would otherwise attack the heads
and bones, and this piece soon grows white.*
Let this suffice for the motion of lesser congre-
gation.
Let the ninth be the magnetic motion, which
although of the nature of that last mentioned, yet,
when operating at great distances, and on great
masses, deserves a separate inquiry, especially
if it neither begin in contact, as most motions
of congregation do, nor end by bringing the sub-
stances into contact, as all do, but only raise
them, and make them swell without any further
effect. For if the moon raise the waters, or
cause moist substances to swell, or if the starry
sphere attract the planets towards their apogees,
or the sun confine the planets Mercury and Venus
to within a certain distance of his mass;")" these
motions do not appear capable of being classed
under either of those of congregation, but to be,
as it were, intermediately and imperfectly congre-
gative, and ihus to form a distinct species.
Let the tenth motion be that of avoidance, or
• Uuery.
♦ Observe this approximation to Newton's theory !
that which is opposed to the motion of lesser con-
gregation, by which bodies, with a kind of anti-
pathy, avoid and disperse, and separate them-
selves from, or refuse to unite themselves with
others of a hostile nature. For, although this
may sometimes appear to be an accidental mo-
tion, necessarily attendant upon that of the lesser
congregation, because the homogeneous parts
cannot unite, unless the heterogeneous be firs
removed and excluded ; yet it is still to be classed
separately, and considered as a distinct species,
because, in many cases, the desire of avoidance
appears to be more marked than that of union.
It is very conspicuous in the excrements of
animals, nor less, perhaps, in objects odious to
particular senses, especially the smell and taste.
For a fetid smell is rejected by the nose, so as to
produce a sympathetic motion of expulsion at the
mouth of the stomach; a bitter and rough taste
is rejected by the palate or throat, so as to produce
a sympathetic concussion and shivering of the
head. This motion is visible also in other cases.
Thus it is observed in some kinds of antiperistasis,
as in the middle region of the air. the cold of
which appears to be occasioned by the rejection
of cold from the regions of the heavenly bodies;
and also in the heat and combustion observed in
subterraneous spots, which appear to be owing
to the rejection of heat from the centre of the
earth. For heat and cold, when in small quanti-
ties, mutually destroy each other, whilst in larger
quantities, like armies equally matched, they re-
move and eject each other in open conflict. It is
said, also, that cinnamon and other perfumes
retain their odour longer when placed near privies
and foul places, because they will not unite and
mix with stinks. It is well known that quick-
silver, which would otherwise reunite into a com-
plete mass, is prevented from so doing by man's
spittle, pork, lard, turpentine, and the like, from
the little affinity of its pvirts with those substances,
so that when surrounded by them it draws itself
back, and its avoidance of these intervening ob-
stacles is greater than its desire of reuniting itself
to its homogeneous parts; which is what they
term the mortification of quicksilver. Again, the
difference in weight of oil and water is not the
only reason for their refusing to mix, but it is also
owing to the little affinity of the two, for spirits
of wine, which are lighter than oil, mix very
well with water. A very remarkable instance
of the motion in question is seen in nitre, and
crude bodies of a like nature, which abhor flame,
as may be observed in gunpowder, quicksilver,
and gold. The avoidance of one pole of the
magnet by iron is not, (as Gilbert has well ob-
served,) strictly speaking, an avoidance, but a
conformity, or attraction to a more convenient
situation.
Let the eleventh motion be that o^ assimilation,
or self-multiplication, or simple generation, by
Book II.
NOVUM ORGAXUM.
15
which latter term we do not moan the simple
^t'neralion of integral bodies, such as plants or
animals, but of homogeneous bodies. By this
motion homogeneous bodi»!s convert those which
are allied to them, or, at lenst, well disposed and
prepared, into their own substance and nature.
'I'luis flame multiplies itself over vapours and
oily substances, and generates fresh flame; the
air over water and watery substances multiplies
itself and generates fresh air ; the vegetable and
animal spirit, over the thin particles of a watery
or oleaginous spirit contained in its food, multi-
plies itself and generates fresh spirit; the solid
j)arts of plants and animvils, as the leaf, flower,
the flesh, bone, and the like, each of them assi-
milate some part of the juices contained in their
food, and generate a successive and daily sub-
stance. For let none rave with Paracelsus, who
(blinded by his distillations) would have it, that
nutrition takes place by mere separation, and
that the eye, nose, brain, and liver, lie concealed
in bread and meat, the root, leaf, and flower, in
the juice of the earth ; asserting that just as the
artist brings out a leaf, flower, eye, nose, hand,
foot, and the like, from a rude mass of stone or
wood, by the separation and rejection of what is
superfluous; so the great artist within us brings
out our several limbs and parts by separation
and rejection. But to leave such trifling, it is
most certain that all the parts of vegetables and
animals, as well the homogeneous as organic,
first of all attract those juices contained in their
food, which are nearly common, or at least not
very diflerent, and tiien assimilate and convert
them into their own nature. Nor docs this as-
similation, or simple generation, take place in
animated bodies only, but the inanimate also
participate in the same property, (as we have ob-
served of flame and air,) and that languid spirit,
which is contained in every tangible animated sub-
stance, is perpetually working upon the coarser
parts, and converting them into spirit, which af-
terwards is exhaled, whence ensues a diminution
of weight, and a desiccation of which we have
spoken elsewhere.* Nor should we, in speak-
ing of assimilation, neglect to mention the accre-
tion which is usually distinguished from aliment,
and which is observed when mud grows into a
mass between stones, and is converted into a
stony substance, and the scaly substance round
the teeth is converted into one no less hard than
the teeth themselves; for we are of opinion that
there exists in all bodies a desire of assimilation,
as well as of uniting with homogeneous masses.
Each of these powers, however, is confined,
although in different manners, and should be
diligently investigated, because they are con-
nected with the revival of old age. Lastly, it is
worthy of observation, that in the nine preceding
* See tlie citing instances, Aphorism 40.
motions, bodies appear to aim at the mere pre-
servation of their nature, whilst in this they at-
tempt its propagation.
Let the twelfth motion be that of excitement,
which appears to be a species of the last, and is
sometimes mentioned by us under that name. It
is, like that, a diflTusive, communicative, transi-
tive, and multiplying motion; and they agree re-
markably in their effect, although they differ in
their mode of action, and in their subject-matter.
The former proceeds imperiously, and with au-
thority ; it orders and compels the assimilated to
be converted and changed into the assimilating
body. The latter proceeds by art, insinuation,
and stealth, inviting and disposing the excited
towards the nature of the exciting body. The
former both multiplies and transforms bodies and
substances ; thus a greater quantity of flame, air,
spirit, and flesh is formed ; but in the latter, (he
powers only are multiplied and changed, and
heat, the magnetic power, and putrefaction, in
the above instances, are increased. Heat does
not diffuse itself, when heating other bodies, by
any communication of the original heat, but only
by exciting the parts of the heated body to tliat
motion which is the form of heat, and of which
we spoke in the first vintage of the nature of
heat. Heat, therefore, is excited much less
rapidly and readily in stone or metal, than in air,
on account of the inaptitude and sluggishness
of those bodies in acquiring that motion, so that
it is probable that there may be some substances,
towards the centre of the earth, quite incapable
of being heated, on account of their density,
which may deprive them of the spirit by which
the motion of excitement is usually commenced.
Thiis, also, the magnet creates in the iron a new
disposition of its parts, and a conformable motion,
without losing any of its virtue. So the leaven
of bread, yeast, rennet, and some poisons, excite
and invite successive and continued motion in
dough, beer, cheese, or the human body ; not so
much from the power of the exciting, as the pre-
disposition and yielding of the excited body.
Let the thirteenth motion be that o{ impression,
which is also a species of motion of assimilation,
and the most subtile of diffusive motions. We
have thought it right, however, to consider it as
a distinct species, on account of its remarkable
difference from the two last. For the simple mo-
tion of assimilation transforms the bodies them-
selves, so that if you remove the first agent, you
diminish not the effect of those which succeed,
thus, neither the first lighting of flame, nor the
first conversion into air, are of any importance to
the flame or air next generated. So, also, thft
motion of excitement still continues for a consi
derable time after the removal of the first agent,
as in a heated body on the removal of the original
I heat, in the excited iron on the removal of th»>
magnet, and in the dough on the removal of th«
416
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book II.
leaven. But the motion of impression, although
diffusive and transitive, appears, nevertheless, to
depend on the first agent, so that, upon the re-
moval of the latter, the former immediately fails
and perishes ; for which reason also it takes effect
in a moment, or at least a very short space of time.
We are wont to call the two former motions the
motions of the generation of Jupiter, because
when born they continue to exist; and the latter,
the motion of the generation of Saturn, because
it is immediately devoured and absorbed. It
may be seen in three instances; 1. In the rays of
light; 2. In the percussions of sounds; 3. In
magnetic attractions as regards communication.
For, on the removal of light, colours and all its
other images disappear, as, on the cessation of the
first percussion and the vibration of the body,
sound soon fails; and although sounds are agi-
tated by the wind, like waves, yet it is to be ob-
served, that t!ie same sound does not last during
the whole time of the reverberation. Thus, when
a bell is struck, the sound appears to be continued
for a considerable time, and one might easily be
led into the mistake of supposing it to float and
remain in the air during the whole time, which
is most erroneous. For the reverberation is not
one identical sound, but the repetition of sounds;
which is made manifest by stopping and confining
the sonorous body; thus, if a bell be stopped and
hold tightly, so as to be immovable, the sound
fails, and there is no further reverberation ; and if
a musical string be touched after the first vibra-
tion, either with the finger, (as in the harp,) or a
quill, (as in the harpsichord,) the sound immedi-
ately ceases. If the magnet be removed, the iron
falls. The moon, however, cannot be removed
from the sea, nor the earth from a heavy falling
body, and we can, therefore, make no experiment
upon them, but the case is the same.
Let the fourteenth motion be that of confis^ura-
tion or position., by which bodies appear to desire
a peculiar situation, collocation, and configuration
with others, rather than union or separation. This
is a very abstruse motion, and has not been well
investigated ; and, in some instances, appears to
occur almost without any causej although we be
mistaken in supposing this to be really the case.
For if it be asked, why the heavens revolve from
east to west, rather than from west to east, or why
they turn on poles situated near the Bears, rather
than round Orion or any other part of the heaven,
Ruch a question appears to be unreasonable, since
these phenomena should be received as determi-
nate, and the objects of our experience. There
are, indeed, some ultimate and self-existing phe-
nomena in nature, but those which we have just
mentioned are not to be referred to that class : for
we attribute them to a certain harniMiy and con-
sent of tne universe, which has not yei been pro-
perly observed. But if the motion of the earth
from west to east be allowed, the same question
may be put, for it must also revolve round certain
poles, and why should tliey be ])laced where they
are, rather than elsewhere ] The polarity and
variation of the needle come under our present
I head. Tliere is also observed in both natural
and artificial bodies, especially solids rather than
I fluids, a particular collocation and position of
parts, resembling hairs or fibres, which should be
j diligently investigated, since, without a discovery
j of them, bodies cannot be conveniently controlled
or wrought upon. The eddies observable in
j liquids by which, when compressed, they suc-
cessively raise different parts of their mass before
they can escape, so as to equalize the pressure, is
more correctly assigned to the moiion of liberty.
Let the fifteenth motion be Lliat of transmission,
or of passage, by which the powers of bodies are
more or less impeded or advanced by the medium,
according to the nature of the bodies and their
effective powers, and also according to that of
the medium. For one medium is adapted to
light, another to sound, another to heat and cold,
another to magnetic action, and so on with regard
to the other actions.
Let tlie sixteenth be that which we term the
royal or political motion, by which the predomi-
nant and governing parts of any body check,
subdue, reduce, and regulate the others, and force
them to unite, separate, stand still, move, or as-
sume a certain position, not from any inclination
of tlieir own, but according to a certain order, and
as best suits the convenience of the governing
part, so that there is a sort of dominion and civil
government exercised by the ruling part over its
subjects. This motion is very conspicuous in
the spirits of animals, where, as long as it is in
force, it tempers all the motion of the other parts.
It is found in a less degree in other bodies, as we
have observed in blood and urine, which are not
decomposed until the spirit, which mixed and
retained their parts, has been emitted or extin-
guished. Nor is this motion peculiar to spirits
only, although in most bodies the spirit predomi-
nates, owing to its rapid motion and penetration ;
for the grosser parts predominate in denser bo-
dies, which are not filled with a quick and active
spirit, (such as exists in quicksilver or vitriol,)
so that unless this check or yoke be thrown off
by some contrivance, there is no hope of any
transformation of such bodies. And let not any
one suppose that we have forgotten our subject,
because we speak of predominance in this clas-
sification of motions, which is made entirely
with the view of assisting the investigation of
wrestling instances, or instances of predomi-
nance. For we do not now treat of the general
predominance of motions or powers, but of that
of parts in whole bodies, which constitutes the
particular species here considered.
Let the seventeenth motion be the spontancoti*
motion of revolution, by which bodies having a
Book II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
417
tendency to move, and placed in a favourable
siuialiitn, enjoy their peculiar nature, pursuing
themselves and nothinir else, and seeking as it
were to embrace themselves. For bodies seem
either to move without any limit, or to tend to-
wards a limit, arrived at which, they either revolve
according to their peculiar nature, or rest. Those
which are favourably situated, and have a ten-
dency to motion, move in a circle with an eternal
and unlimited motion; those which are favoura-
bly situated and abhor motion, rest. Those which
are not favourably situated move in a straight
line, (as their shortest path,) in order to unite
with others of a congenial nature. This motion
of revolution admits of nine differences; 1. With
regard to the centre about which the bodies move ;
2. The poles round which they move; 3. The
circumference or orbit relatively to its distance
from the centre ; 4. The velocity or greater or less
speed with which they revolve; 5. The direction
of the motion, as from east to west, or the reverse ;
(3. The deviation from a perfect circle, by spiral
lines at a greater or less distance from the centre ;
7. The deviation from the circle by spiral lines at
d greater or less distance from the poles; 8. The
greater or less distance of these spirals from each
other; 9. And, lastly, the variation of the poles,
if they be movable; which, however, only af-
fects revolution when circular. The motion in
question is, according to common and long re-
ceived opinion, considered to be that of the hea-
venly bodies. There exists, however, with re-
gard 10 this, a considerable dispute between some
of the ancients as well as moderns, who have
attributed a motion of revolution to the earth. A
much more reasonable controversy, perhaps, ex-
ists, (if it be not a matter beyond dispute,) whether
the motion in question (on the hypothesis of the
earth's being fixed) is confined to the heavens, or
rather descends and is communicated to the air
and water. The rotation of missiles, as in darts,
musket balls, and the like, we refer entirely to
the motion of liberty.
Let the eighteenth motion be that of trepida-
tion, to which (in the sense assigned to it by
astronomers) we do not give much credit; but in
our serious and general search after the tenden-
cies of natural bodies, this motion occurs and
appears worthy of forming a distinct species. It
is the motion of an (as it were) eternal captivity;
when bodies, for instance, being placed not alto-
gether according to their nature, and yet not
exactly ill, constantly tremble, and are restless,
not contented with their position, and yet not
daring to advance. Such is the motion of the
heart and the pulse of animals, and it must ne-
cessarily occur in all bodies which are situated in
a mean state, between conveniences and inconve-
niences ; so that being removed from their proper
position, they strive to escape, are repulsed, and
again continue to make the attempt.
Vol. ir— 53
Let the nineteenth and last motion be one
which can scarcely be termed a motion, and yet
is one; and which we may call the motion of
repose, or of abhorrence of motion. It is by this
motion that the earth stands by its own weight,
whilst its extremes move towards the middle, WA
to an imaginary centre, but in order to unite. It
is owing to the same tendency, that all bodies of
considerable density abhor motion, and their only
tendency is not to move, which nature they pu-
serve, although excited and urged in a variety ot
ways to motion. But if they be compelled to
move, yet do they always appear anxious to re-
cover their former state, and to cease from motion,
in which respect they certainly appear active,
and attempt it with sufficient swiftness and
rapidity, as if fatigued and impatient of delay.
We can only have a partial representation of this
tendency, because with us every tangible sub-
stance is not only not condensed to the utmost,
but even some spirit is added, owing to the action
and concocting influence of the heavenly bodies.
We have now, therefore, exhibited the species
or simple elements of the motions, tendencies,
and active powers, which are most universal in
nature ; and no small portion of natural science
has been thus sketched out. We do not, however,
deny that other instances can, perhaps, be added,
and our divisions changed according to some
more natural order of things, and also reduced to
a less number; in which respect we do not allude
to any abstract classification, as if one were to
say, that " bodies desire the preservation, exalta-
tion, propagation, or fruition of their nature;"
or, that "motion tends to the preservation and
benefit either of the universe, (as in the case of
those of resistance and connection,) or of exten-
sive wholes, (as in the case of those of the greater
congregation, revolution, and abhorrence of mo-
tion,) or in particular forms, as in the case of the
others. For, although such remarks be just, yet,
unless they terminate in matter and construction,
according to true definitions, they are speculative
and of little use. In the mean time, our classi-
fication will sufllce, and be of much use in the
consideration of the predominance of powers, and
examining the wrestling instances which con-
stitute our present subject.
For, of the motions here laid down, some are
quite invincible, some more powerful than others,
which they confine, check, and modify ; others
extend to a greater distance, others are more im-
mediate and swift, others strefl'gthen, increase,
and accelerate the rest.
The motion of resistance is most adamantine
and invincible. W'e are yet in doubt whethei
such be the nature of that of connection; for we
cannot with certainty determine whether there bo
a vacuum, either extensive or intermixed with
matter. Of one thing, however, we are satisfied,
that the reason assigned by Leucippus and Df-
418
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book II.
mocrilns for the introduction of a vacuum, |
(namely, that the same bodies could not other- !
wise comprehend and fill greater and less spaces,)
is false. For there is clearly a folding- of matter,
by which it wraps and unwraps itself in space
within certain limits, without the intervention of
a vacuum. Nor is there two thousand times
more of vacuum in air than in gold, as there
should be on this hypothesis ; a fact demonstrated
by the very powerful energies of fluids, (which
would otherwise float like fine dust in vacuo,)
and many other proofs. The other motions direct
and are directed by each other according to their
strength, quantity, excitement, emission, or the
assistance or impediments they meet with.
For instance, some armed magnets hold and
support iron of sixty times their own weight; so
far does the motion of lesser congregation predo-
minate over that of the greater; but if the weight
be increased, it yields. A lever of a certain
strength will raise a given weight, and so far the
motion of liberty predominates over that of the
greater congregation, but if the weight be greater,
the former motion yields. A piece of leather
stretched to a certain point does not break, and
so far the motion of continuity predominates over
that of tension, but if the tension be greater,
the leather breaks, and the motion of continu-
ity yields. A certain quantity of water flows
tiirough a chink, and so far the motion of greater
congregation predominates over that of continuity,
but if the chink be smaller, it yields. If a musket
be charged with ball and powdered sulphur alone,
and fire be applied, the ball is not discharged, in
which case the motion of greater congregation
overcomes that of matter, but when gunpowder
is used, the motion of matter in the sulphur pre-
dominates, being assisted by that motion and the
motion of avoidance in the nitre ; and so of the
rest. For wrestling instances (which show the
predominance of powers, and in what manner
and proportion they predominate and yield) must
be searched for with active and industrious dili-
gence.
The methods and nature of this yielding must
also be diligently examined ; as, for instance,
whether the motions completely cease or exert
themselves, but are constrained. For, in the
bodies with which we are acquainted, there is no
real, but an apparent rest, either in the whole or
in parts. This apparent rest is occasioned either
by equilibrium or the absolute predominance of
motions. By eq^tilibrium, as in the scales of the
balance, which rest if the weights be equal. By
predominance, as in perforated jars, in which the
water rests, and is prevented from falling by the
predominance of the motion of connection. It
is, however, to be observed fas we have said be-
tore) how far the yielding motions exert them-
selves. For, if a man be held stretched out on
the around against his will, with arras and legs
bound down, or otherwise confined, and yet strive
with all his power to get up, the struggle is not
the less, although ineffectual. The real state c*"
the case (namely, whether the yielding motion
be, as it were, annihilated by the predominance,
or there be rather a continued althoutrh an invisi-
ble effort) will perhaps appear in the concurrence
of motions, although it escape our notice in their
conflict. For instance, let an experiment be made
with muskets; whether a musket ball, at its ut-
most range in a straight line, or, as it is commoiily
called, point blank, strike with less force when
projected upwards, where the motion of the blow
is simple, than when projected downwards, where
the motion of gravity concurs with the blow.
The rules of such instances of predominance
as occur, should be collected : such as the follow-
ing; the more general the desired advantage is,
the stronger will be the motion; the motion of
connexion, for instance, which relates to the in-
tercourse of the parts of the universe, is more
powerful than that of gravity, which relates to
the intercourse of dense bodies only. Again, the
desire of a private good does not, in general,
prevail against that of a public one, except where
the quantities are small. Would that such were
the case in civil matters !
49. In the twenty-fifth rank of prerogative in-
stances, we will place suggesting instances ; such
as suggest or point out that which is advanla
geous to mankind ; for bare power and knowledge,
in themselves, exalt, rather than enrich human
nature. We must, therefore, select from the
general store, such things as are most useful to
mankind. We shall have a better opportunity
of discussing these when we treat of the appli-
cation to practice ; besides, in the work of inter-
pretation, we leave room, on every subject, for
the human or optative chart ; for it is a part of
science to make judicious inquiries and wishes.
50. In the twenty-sixth rank of prerogative
instances, we will place the generally us(f til in-
stances. They are such as relate to various
points, and frequently occur, sparing, by that
means, considerable labour and new trials. The
proper place for treating of instances and contri-
vances, will be that in which we speak of the
application to practice, and the methods of expe-
riment. All that has hitherto been ascertained,
and made use of, will be described in the particu-
lar history of each art. At present, we will sub-
join a few general examples of the instances in
question.
Man acts, then, upon natural bodies (besides
merely bringing them together or removing them)
by seven principal methods : 1. By the exclusion
of all that impedes and disturbs; 2. By compres-
sion, extension, agitation, and the like; 3. By
heat and cold ; 4. By detention in a suitable
pUce ; 5. By checking or directing motion ; 6.
By peculiar harmonies ; 7. By a seasonable and
Book II.
NOVUM ORGAN UM.
419
proper alternation, series, and succession of all
these, or at least of some of them.
I. With regard to the first ; common air, which
is always at hand, and forces its admission, as
also the rays of the heavenly bodins, create much
disturbance. Whatever, therefore, tends to ex-
clude them, may well be considered as generally
useful. The substance and thickness of vessels
in which bodies are placed when prepared for
operations may be referred to this head. So,
also, may the accurate methods of closing vessels
by consolidation, or tiie latum sapicntix, as the
chymists call it. The exclusion of air by means
of liquids at the extremity, is also very useful ;
as, when they pour oil on wine, or the juices of
herbs, which, by spreading itself upon the top,
like a cover, preserves them uninjured from the
air. Powders, also, are serviceable, for, although
they contain air mixed up in them, yet they ward
off the power of the mass of circumambient air,
which is seen in the preservation of grapes, and
other fruits, in sand and flour. Wax, honey,
pitch, and other resinous bodies, are well used in
order to make the exclusion more perfect, and to
remove the air and celestial influence. We have
sometimes made an experiment, by placing a ves-
sel or other bodies in quicksilver, the most dense
of all substances capable of being poured round
others. Grottos and subterraneous caves are of
great use in keeping off the effects of the sun,
and the predatory action of air, and, in the north
of Germany, are used for granaries. The depo-
siting of bodies at the bottom of water may be
also mentioned here, and I remember having heard
of some bottles of wine being let down into a
deep well in order to cool them, but left there by
chance, carelessness, and forgetful ness, for seve-
ral years, and then taken out ; by which means,
the wine not only escaped becoming flat or dead,
but was much more excellent in flavour; arising
(as it appears) from a more complete mixture of
its parts. But, if the case require that bodies
should be sunk to the bottom of water, as in
rivers, or the sea, and yet should not touch the
water, nor be enclosed in sealed vessels, but sur-
rounded only by air, it would be right to use that
vessel which has been sometimes employed under
water, above ships that have sunk, in order to
enable the divers to remain below and breathe oc-
casionally by turns. It was of the following
nature. A hollow tub of metal was formed, and
sunk so as to have its bottom parallel with the i
surface of the water; it thus carried down with |
it to the bottom of the sea all the air contained in \
the tub. It stood upon three feet, (like a tripod,) I
being of rather less height than a man, so that
when the diver was in want of breath, he could
put his head into the hollow of the tub, breathe,
and then continue his work. We hear that some
sort of boat or vessel has now been invented, ca- ;
pable of carrying men some distance under water. I
Any bodies, however, can easily be suspended
under some such vessel as we have mentioned,
which has occasioned our remarks upon the expe-
riment.
Another advantage of the careful and hermeti-
cal closing of bodies is this; not only the admis-
sion of external air is prevented, (of which we
have treated,) but the spirit of bodies also is pre-
vented from making its escape, which is an inter-
nal operation. For any one operating on natural
bodies must be certain as to their quantity, and
that nothing has evaporated or escaped; since
profound alterations take place in bodies, when
art prevents the loss or escape of any portion,
whilst nature prevents their annihilation. With
regard to this circumstance, a false idea has pre-
vailed, (which, if true, would make us despair of
preserving quantity without diminution,) namely,
that the spirit of bodies, and air when rarefied by a
great degree of heat, cannot be so kept in by being
enclosed in any vessel, as not to escape by the
small pores. Men are led into this idea by com-
mon experiments of a cup inverted over water,
with a candle or piece of lighted paper in it, by
which the water is drawn up, and of those cups
which when heated draw up the flesh. For they
think that in each experiment the rarefied air
escapes, and that its quantity is therefore dimi-
nished, by which means the water or flesh rises
by the motion of connexion. This is, however,
most incorrect. For the air is not diminished in
quantity, but contracted in dimensions,* nor does
this motion of the rising of the water begin till
the flame is extinguished, or the air cooled, so that
physicians place cold sponges, moistened with
water, on the cups, in order to increase their
attraction. There is, therefore, no reason why
men should fear much from the ready escape of
air: for, although it be true that the most solid
bodies have their pores, yet neither air nor spirit
readily suffers itself to be rarefied to such an
extreme degree ; just as water will not escape by
a small chink.
II. With regard to the second of the seven
above mentioned methods, we must especially
observe, that compression and similar violence
have a most powerful effect either in producing
locomotion, and other motions of the same nature,
as may be observed in engines and projectiles, or
in destroying the organic body and those qualities
which consist entirely in motion, (for all life,
and every description of flame and ignition are
destroyed by compression, which also injures
and deranges every machine;) or in destroyino
those qualities which consist in position and a
coarse difference of parts, as in colours ; for tho
* Part of the air is expanded and escapes, and paic is con-
Biimed by the flame. When condensed, therefore, by th«
cold application, it cannot offer sufficient resistance to thn
external atmosphere to prevent the liquid or flesh from being
forced into the glass
420
NOVUM ORGANUM
Book II.
colour of a flower when whole differs from that
it presents when bruised, and the same may be
observed of whole and powdered amber ; or in
taste, for the taste of a pear before it is ripe and
of the same pear when bruised and softened is
different, since it becomes perceptibly more sweet.
But such violence is of little avail in the more
noble transformations and changes of homoge-
neous bodies, for they do not, by such means,
acquire any constantly and permanently new
state, but one that is transitory, and always
struggling to return to its former habit and free-
dom. It would not, however, be useless to make
some more diligent experiments with regard to
this ; whether, for instance, the condensation of
d perfectly homogeneous body (such as air, water,
oil, and the like) or their rarefaction, when effected
by violence, can become permanent, fixed, and,
as it were, so changed as to become a nature.
This might at first be tried by simple perse-
verance, and then by means of helps and harmo-
nies. It might readily have been attempted, (if
we had but thought of it,) when we condensed
water (as was mentioned above) by hammering
and compression until it burst out. For we
ought to have left the flattened globe untouched
for some days, and then to have drawn off the
water in order to try whether it would have im-
mediately occupied the same dimensions as it did
before the condensation. If it had not done so,
either immediately or soon afterwards, the con-
densation would have appeared to have been
rendered constant; if not, it would have appeared
that a restitution took place, and that the con-
densation had been transitory. Something of the
same kind might have been tried with the glass
eggs; the egg should have been sealed up sud-
denly and firmly, after a complete exhaustion of
the air, and should have been allowed to remain
so for some days, and it might then have been
tried whether, on opening the aperture, the air
would be drawn in with a hissing noise, or
whether as much water would be drawn into it
when immersed, as would have been drawn into
it at first, if it had not continued sealed. For
it is probable (or at least worth making the ex-
periment) that this might have happened, or might
happen, because perseverance has a similar effect
upon bodies which are a little less homogeneous.
A stick bent together for some time does not
rebound, which is not owing to any loss of quan-
tity in the wood during the time, for the same
would occur (after a larger time) in a plate of
steel, which does not evaporate. If the experi-
ment of simple perseverance should fail, the
matter should not be given up, but other means
should be employed. For it would be no small
advantage, if bodies could be endued with fixed
and constant natures by violence. Air could
then be converted into water by condensation,
wifh other similar effects; for man is more the
master ot violent motions than of any othei
means.
III. The third of our seven methods is referred
to that great practical engine of nature as well as
of art, cold and heat. Here man's power limps,
as it were, with one leg. Foi we possess the heat
of fire, which is infinitely more powerful and in-
tense than that of the sun (as it reaches us) and that
of animals. But we want cold,* except sucn as
we can obtain in winter, in caverns, or by sur-
rounding objects with snow and ice, which, per-
haps, may be compared in degree with the noon-
tide heat of the sun in tropical countries, increased
by the reflection of mountains and walls. For
this degree of heat and cold can be borne for a
short period only by animals, yet it is nothing
compared with the heat of a burning furnace, or
the corresponding degree of cold.j" Every thing
with us has a tendency to become rarefied, dry,
and wasted, and nothing to become condensed or
soft, except by mixtures, and, as it were, spurious
methods. Instances of cold, therefore, should be
searched for most diligently, such as may be found
by exposing bodies upon buildings in a hard frost,
in subterraneous caverns, by surrounding bodies
with snow and ice in deep places excavated for
that purpose, by letting bodies down into wells,
by burying bodies in quicksilver and metals, by
immersing them in streams which petrify wood,
by burying them in the earth, (which the Chinese
are reported to do with their china, masses of
which, made for that purpose, are said to remain
in the ground for forty or fifty years, and to be
transmitted to their heirs as a sort of artificial
mine,) and the like. The condensations which
take place in nature by means of cold should also
be investigated, that by learning their causes they
may be introduced into the arts ; such as are ob-
served in the exudation of marble and stones, in
the dew upon the panes of glass in a room towards
morning after a frosty night, in the formation and
the gathering of vapours under the earth into
water, whence spring fountains, and the like.
Besides the substances which are cold to the
touch, there are others which have also the effect
of cold, and condense; they appear, however, to
act only upon the bodies of animals, and scarcely
any further. Of these we have many instances,
in medicines and plasters. Some condense the
flesh and tangible parts, such as astringent and
inspissating medicines, others the spirits, such as
soporifics. There are two modes of condensing
* IleU can now be abstracted by a very simple process, till
the degree nf cold be of almost any required intevsity.
t It is impossible to compare a degree of heat with a degree
of cold, without the assumption of some arbitrary test, to
which the degrees are to be referred. In the next sentence
Bacon appears to have taken the power of animal life to sup-
port heat or cold as the test, and then the comparison can only
be between the degree of heat or of cold that will produce
death.
The zero must be arbitrary which divides equally a certain
degree of heat from a certain degree of cold.
Hook II.
VOVUM OROANUM.
421
the spirits, by soporifics or provocatives to sleep ;
the one by caliiiing the motion, the other by
expellinjr the spirit. The vioh^, dried roses, let-
tuces, and other benign or mild remedies, by their
friendly and gently cooling vapours, invite the
spirits to unite, and restrain their violent and per-
turbed motion. Rose-water, for instance, applied
to the nostrils in fainting fits, causes the resolved
and relaxed spirits to recover themselves, and, as
it were, cherishes them. But opiates, and the
like, banish the spirits by their malignant and
hostile quality. If they be applied, therefore, exter-
nally, the Sj)irits immediately quit the part, and no
longer readily flow into it; but if they be taken
internally, their vapour, mounting to the head,
expels, in all directions, the spirits contained in
the ventricles of the brain, and since these spirits
retreat, but cannot escape, they consequently
meet and are condensed, and are sometimes com-
pletely extinguished and suffocated; although the
same opiates, when taken in moderation, by a
secondary accident, (the condensation which suc-
ceeds their union,) strengthen the spirits, render
them more robust, and check their useless and
inflammatory motion, by which means they con-
tribute not a little to the cure of diseases, and the
prolongation of life.
The prepar;itions of bodies, also, for the recep-
tion of cold, should not be omitted, such as that
water a little warmed is more easily frozen than
that which is quite cold, and the like.
Moreover, since nature supplies cold so sparing-
ly, we must act like the apothecaries, who, when
they cannot obtain any simple ingredient, take
a succedaneum, or quid pro quo, as they term it,
such as aloes for xylobalsamum, cassia for cinna-
mon. In the same manner we should look dili-
(jently about us, to ascertain whether there may
be any substitutes for cold, that is to say, in what
other manner condensation can be effected, which
is the peculiar operation of cold. Such conden-
sations appear hitherto to be of four kinds only.
1. By simple compression, which is of little avail
towards permanent condensation, on account of
the elasticity of substances, but may still how-
ever be of some assistance. 2. By the contrac- \
tion of the coarser, after the escape or departure
of the finer parts of a given body; as is exempli-
fied in induration by fire, and the repeated heating
and extinguishing of metals, and the like. 3. By
,he cohesion of the most solid homogeneous parts
of a given body, which were previously separated,
and mixed with others less solid, as in the return
of sublimated mercury to its simple state, in
which it occupies much less space than it did in
powder, and the same may be observed of the
cleansing of all metals from their dross. 4. By j
harmony or the application of substances which
condense by some latent power. These harmo-
nies are as yet but rarely observed, at which we I
cannot be surprised, since there is little to hope]
for from their investigation, unless the discovery
of forms and conformation be attained. With
regard to animal bodies, it is not to be questioned
that there are many internal and external medi-
cines which condense by harmony, as we have
before observed, but this action is rare in inani-
mate bodies. Written accounts, as well as re-
port, have certainly spoken of a tree in one of the
Tercera or Canary Islands (for I do not exactly
recollect which) that dri|)S perpetually, so as to
supply the inhabitants, in some degree, with
water; and Paracelsus says, that the herb calUd
ros solis is filled with dew at noon, whilst the sun
gives out its greatest heat, and all other herbs
around it are dry. We treat both these accounts
as fables ; they would, however, if true, be of
the inost important service, and most worthy of
examination. As to the honey-dew, resembling
manna, which is found in May on the leaves of
the oak, we are of opinion that it is not condensed
by any harmony or peculiarity of the oak leaf, but
that whilst it falls equally upon other leaves, it
is retained and continues on those of the oak, be-
cause their texture is closer, and not so porous as
that of most of the other leaves.*
With reo-ard to heat, man possesses abundant
means and power, but his observation and inquiry
are defective in some respects, and those of the
greatest importance, notwithstanding the boasting
of quacks. For the effects of intense heat are
examined and observed, whilst those of a more
gentle degree of heat, being of the most frequent
occurrence in the paths of nature, are, on that very
account, least known. We see, therefore, the
furnaces, which are most esteemed, employed in
increasing the spirits of bodies to a great extent,
as in the strong acids, and some chymical oils ;
whilst the tangible parts are hardened, and, when
the volatile part has escaped, become sometimes
fixed; the homogeneous parts are separated, and
the heterogeneous incorporated and agglomerated
in a coarse lump; and (what is chiefly worthy of
remark) the junction of compound bodies, and
the more delicate conformations are destroyed and
confounded. But the operation of a less violent
heat should be tried and investigated, by which
more delicate mixtures and regular conformations
may be produced and elicited, according to the
example of nature, and in imitation of the effect
of the sun, which we have alluded to in the
aphorism on the instances of alliance. For the
works of nature are carried on in much smaller
portions, and in more delicate and varied positions
than those of fire, as we now employ it. But
man will then appear to have really augmented
his power, when the works of nature can he
imitated in specie, perfected in power, and varied
in quantity ; to which should be added the acce-
leration in point of time. Rust, for instance, is
♦ It may often be observed on tlie leaves of the lime and
other trees.
2N
422
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Book U
tlie result of a long process, but crocus Martis is
ol)tained iininediatnly ; and the sairiR may be ob-
served of natural verdigris and ceruse. Crystal
is formed slowly, whilst glass is blown immedi-
ately : stones increase slowly, whilst bricks are
baked immediately, &c. In the mean time (with
regard to our present subject) every different spe-
cies of heat should, with its peculiar efleets, bo
diligently collected and in(juired into ; that of
the heavenly bodies, whether their rays be di-
jct, reflected, or refracted, or condensed by a
burning-glass; that of lightning, flame, and ignit-
ed charcoal ; that of fire of dilTerent materials,
either open or confined, straitened or overflowing,
qualified by the d liferent forms of the furnaces,
excited by the bellows, or quiescent, removed
to a greater or less distance, or passing through
different media; moist heats, such as the bal-
neum MariaB, and the dunghill ; the external and
internal heat of animals; dry boats, such as the
lieat of ashes, lime, warm sand; in short, the
nature of every kind of heat, and its degrees.
We should, however, particularly attend to the
investigation and discovery of the effects and
operations of heat, when made to approach and
retire by degrees, regularly, periodically, and by
proper intervals of space and lime. For this
systematical inequality is in truth the daughter
of heaven and mother of generation, nor can any
great result be expected from a vehement, preci-
pitate, or desultory heat. For this is not only
most evident in vegetables, but in the wombs of
animals, also, there arises a great inequality of
heat, from the motion, sleep, food, and passions
of the female. The same inequality prevails in
those subterraneous beds where metals and fossils
are perpetually forming, which renders yet more
remarkable the ignorance of some of the reformed
alchymists, who imagined they could attain
their object by the equable heat of lamps, or the
like, burning uniformly. Let this suffice con-
cerning the operation and effects of heat ; nor is
it time for us to investigate them thoroughly be-
f ire the forms and conformations of bodies have
been further examined and brought to light.
When we have determined upon our models,
we may seek, apply, and arrange our instru-
ments.
IV. The fourth mode of action is by continu-
ance, the very steward and almoner, as it were,
of nature. We apply the term continuance to
the abandonment of a body to itself for an ob-
servable time, guarded and protected in the
mean while from all external force. For the
internal motion then commences to betray and j
oxert itself when the external and adventitious is
lemovecl. The effects of lime, however, are far {
more delicate than those of fire. Wine, for
instance, cannot be clarified by fire as it is by
continuance. Nor are the ashes produced by
oombustion so fine as the particles dissolved or ^
wasted by the la))8e of ages. The .nLorporations
and mixtures, wliich are hurried by lire, are very
inferior to those obtained by contirmance ; and
the various conformations assumed by bodies left
to themselves, such as mouldiness, A:c., are put a
stop to by fire or a strong heat. It is not, in the
mean time, unimportant to remark, that there is a
certain degree of violence in the motion of bodies
entirely confined. For the confinement impedes
the proper motion of the body. Continuance in
an open vessel, therefore, is useful for separations,
and in one hermetically sealed for mixtures, that
in a vessel partly closed, but admitting the air for
putrefaction. But instances of the ojicration and
effect of continuance must be collected diligently
from every quarter.
V. The direction of motion (which is the fifth
method of action) is of no small use. We adopt
this term when speaking of a body, which, meet-
ing with another, either arrests, repels, allows, or
directs its original motion. This is the case
principally in the figure and position of vessels.
An upright cone, for instance, promotes the con-
densation of vapour in alembics, but, when
reversed, as in inverted vessels, it assists the re-
fining of sugar. Sometimes a curved form or
one alternately contracted and dilated is required.
Strainers may be ranged under this head, wIhtc
the opposed body opens a way for one portion of
another substance and impedes the rest. Nor is
tiiis process, or any other direction of motion,
carried on externally only, but sometimes by one
body within another. Thus, pebbles are thrown
into water to collect the muddy particles, and
syrups are refined by the white of an ptrcr, which
glues the grosser particles together so as to facili-
tate their removal. Telesius, indeed, rashly and
ignorantly enough attributes the formation of ani-
mals to this cause, by means of the channels and
f(dds of the womb. He ought to have observed
a similar formation of the young in eggs, which
have no wrinkles or inequalities. One may ob-
serve a real result of this direction of motion in
casting and modelling.
VI. The eflTects produced by harmony and
aversion (which is the sixth method) are fre-
quently buried in obscurity. F'or these occult
and specific properties, (as they are termed,) the
sympathies and antipathies are for the most part
but a corruption of philosophy. Nor can we
form any great expectation of the discovery of
the harmony which exists between natural objects,
before that of their forms and simple conforma-
tions, for it is nothing more than the symmetry
between these forms and conformations.
The greater and more universal species of har-
mony are not, however, so wbcdly obscure, aiul
with them, therefore, we must commence. The
first and princip il distinction between them is
this; that some bodies dilT(>r considerably in the
abundance and rarity of their substance, but cor-
Rook II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
433
respond in their conformation ; others, on the |
contrary, correspond in tiie former and dilfer in ;
tho liiltor. Thus the chymists have woll ol)Horv«!d, ]
that in their trial of first principles, sulphur and .
mercury, as it wore, pervade the universe; their]
reasoning ahout salt, howciver, is ahsurd, and !
merely introduced to comprise earthy, dry, fixed |
hodies. In the* otiier two, indeed, one of the
most universal species of natural harmony mani-
fests itself. Thus there is a correspondence he-
tween 8ul|)hur, oil, {jreasy exhalations, flame,
and, perhaps, the substance of the stars. On the
other hand, there is a like correspondence between
mercury, water, acpieous vapour, air, and, per-
ha|)s, |)ure intersidereal etlier. Yet do timse two
quaternions, or trreat natural tril)es (each within
its own limits) difl'er immensely in quantity and
density of substance, whilst they jrenerally a^ree
in conformation, as is manifest in many instances.
On the other hand, the metals agree in such
quantity and density, (es|)oeially when compared
witli vegetal)l('H, &c.,) I)utdiirt;r in many rt's])e(rt8
in conformation. Animals and vegetabhis, in
like manner, vary in their almost infinite mo<les
of conformation, hut range within very limited
degrees of quantity and density of substance.
The next most general correspondence is that
between individual hodies and those which sup-
ply them hy way of inenHtruuin or support. In-
quiry, tlierefore, must be made as to the climate,
soil, and depth at which each metal is generated,
and the same of gems, whether produced in
rocks or mines; also as to the soil in which par-
ticular trees, shrubs, and herbs mostly grow and,
as it were, delight; and as to the best H|)ecie8 of
manure, whether dung, chalk, sea-sand, or ashes,
&c., and their different propriety and advantage
according to the variety of soils. So also the
grafting and setting of trees and plants (as re-
gards the readiness of grafting one particular
species on another) depends very much upon
harmony, and it would be amusing to try an ex-
periment I have lately heard of, in grafting forest
trees, (garden tre(!s alone having hitherto hf^en
adopted,) by which means the leaves and fruit
are enlargr'd, and the trees produce more shade.
Tlie specific food of animals again should be
observed, as well as that which cannot be used.
Thus tbe carnivorous cannot he fed on herbs, for
which reason the order of Feiiilletans, the experi-
ment having been made, has nearly vanished ;
human nature being incapable of Hup|)orting their
regimen, although tlie human will has more power
over the bodily frame than that of other animals.
The different kinds of putrefaction from which
animals are generated should he noUnl.
The harmony of principal bodies with those
subordinate to them (such indeed may he deemed
those we have alluded to above) are sufTiciently 1
manifest, to which may he added those that exist
between different bodies and tli(;ir objects, and. [
since these latter are more apparent, they may
throw great light, when woll observed and dili-
gently examined, upon those which are more
latent.
Tho more eternal harmony and aversion, or
friendship and enmity, (for su|»er8lition and folly
have rendered the terms of sympathy and anti-
pathy almost disgiiHling,) have been either falsely
assigned, or mixtul with fable, or most rarely
discovered from neglect. For if one were to
allege that there is an enmity between the vine
and the cabbage, because they will not come up
wtdl when sown together, there is a sufTicient
nnison for it in the succulent and absorbent nature
of (iacli plant, so that the one defriiiids the other.
Again, if one w(!re to say that there is a harmony
and friendship betyveen the corn and the corn-
flower, or the wild po|)py, because the latter
seldom grow anywhere but in cultivated soils,
he ought rather to say there is an enmity between
them, for the po|)py and the corn-llow(!r are pro-
duced and created by those juices which the corn
has left and rejected, so that tbe sowing of the
corn prepares the ground for their |)ro{luction.
And tliere are a vast number of similar false as-
sertions. As for fables, they must be totally ex-
terminated. There remains then but a scanty
supply of such Hj)ecies of harmony as has borne
th(» test of experiment, such as that betwcien the
magnet and iron, gold and quicksilver, and the
like. In chymical experiments on metals, how-
ever, there are some others worthy of notice, but
the greatest abundance (where the whole :»re so
U'w in numbers) is discovered in certain medi-
cines, which, from their occult and specific quali-
ties, (as they are termiul,) aflect particular limbs,
humours, diseases, or constitutions. Nor should
we omit the harmony between the motion and
phenomena of tho moon, and their efiects on
lower hodies, which may be brought together by
an accurate and hoixist seliclion from the experi-
ments of agriculture, navigation, and medicine,
or of other sciences. By as much as these general
instances, however, of more latent harmony are
rare, with so much the more diligence are they to
be inquired after, through tradition and faithful
and honest reports, but without rashness and cre-
dulity, with an anxious and, as it were, hesitating
degree of reliance. There remains one species
of harmony which, though simple in its mode of
action, is yet most valuable in its use, and must
by no means he omitted, but rather diligently in-
vestigated. It is the ready or diflicult coition of
union of bodies in composition or simple juxta
position. For some bodies readily and willingly
mix and are incorporated, others tardily and per-
versely ; thus powders mix best with water, chalk
and ashes with oils, and the like. Nor are these
instances of readiness and aversion to mixture lo
be alone collected, but others also of the colloca-
tion, distribution, and digestion of ilie jiarts wheir
424
NOVUM ORGAXUM.
Book U
minnrled, and the predominance after the mixture
is complete.
VII. Lastly, there remains the seventh and
last of the seven modes of action ; namely, that
by the alteration and interchange of the other six ;
out of this it will not be the ritrht time to offer
any examples until some deeper investigation
shall have taken place of each of the others.
The series, or chain of this alternation, in its
mode of application to separate effects, is no less
powerful in its operation than difficult to be traced.
But men are possessed with the most extreme
impatience, both of such inquiries and their prac-
tical application, although it be the clue of the
labyrinth in all greater works. Thus far of the
generally useful instances.
51. The twenty-seventh iind last place we
will assign to the magical instances, a term which
we apply to those where the matter, or efficient
agent, is scanty or small, in comparison with the
grandeur of the work or effect produced ; so that,
even when common, they appear miraculous,
some at first sight, others even upon more atten-
tive observation. Nature, however, of herself,
supplies these but sparingly. What she will do
when her whole store is thrown open, and after
the discovery of forms, processes, and conforma-
tion, will appear hereafter. As far as we can yet
conjecture, these magic effects are produced in
three ways, either by self-multiplication, as in
fire, and the poisons termed specific, and the mo-
tions transferred and multiplied from wheel to
wheel; or by the excitement, or, as it were, invi-
tation of another substance, as in the magnet,
which excites innumerable needles without losing
or diminishing its power, and, again, in leaven,
and the like; or, by the excess of rapidity of one
species of motion over another, as has been ob-
served in the case of gunpowder, cannon, and
mines. The two former require an investigation
of harmonies, the latter of a measure of motion.
Whether there be any mode of changing bodies
per minima, (as it is termed,) and transferring
the delicate conformations of matter, which is of
importance in all transformations of bodies, so as
to enable art to effect, in a short time, that which
nature works out by divers expedients, is a point
of which we have as yet no indication. But, as
we aspire to the extremest and highest results in
that which is solid and true, so do we ever detest,
and, as far as in us lies, expel all that is empty
and vain.
52. Let this suffice as to the respective dignity
or prerogatives of instances. But it must be
noted, that, ir this our organ, we treat of logic,
and not of philosophy. Seeing, however, that
our logic instructs and informs the understanding,
in order that it may not, with the small hooks, as
it were, of the mind, catch at and grasp mere ab-
ptractions, but rather actually penetrate nature,
and discover the properties and effects of bodies,
and the determinate laws of their substance, (so
that this science of ours springs from the nature
of things, as well as from that of the mind ;) it is
not to be wondered at, if it have been continually
interspersed and illustrated with natural observa-
tions and experiments, as instances of our method
The prerogative instances are, as appears from
what has preceded, twenty-seven in number, and
are termed, solitary instances, migrating instances,
conspicuous instances, clandestine instances, con-
stitutive instances, similar instances, singular in-
stances, deviating instances, bordering instances,
instances of power, accompanying and hostile
instances, subjunctive instances, instances of alli-
ance, instances of the cross, instances of divorce,
instances of the gate, citing instances, instances
of the road, supplementary instances, lancing
instances, instances of the rod, instances of the
course, doses of nature, wrestling instances, sug-
gesting instances, generally useful instances, and
magical instances. The advantage, by which
these instances excel the more ordinary, regards
specifically either theory or practice, or both.
With regard to theory, they assist either the
senses or the understanding ; the senses, as in
the five instances of the lamp ; the understand-
ing, either by expediting the exclusive mode of
arriving at the form, as in solitary instances, or
by confining and more immediately indicating the
affirmative, as in the migrating, conspicuous, ac-
companying, and subjunctive instances ; or, by
elevating the understanding, and leading it to
general and common natures, and that either im-
mediately, as in the clandestine and singular
instances, and those of alliance; or, very nearly
so, as in the constitutive ; or, still less so, as in
the similar instances ; or, by correcting the under-
standing of its habits, as in the deviating in-
stances ; or, by leading to the grand form or
fabric of the universe, as in the bordering in-
stances; or, by guarding it from false forms and
causes, as in those of the cross and of divorce.
With regard to practice, they either point it out,
or measure, or elevate it. They point it out,
either by showing where we must commence, in
order not to repeat the labours of others, as in the
instances of power; or, by inducing us to aspire
to that which may be possible, as in the suggest-
ing instances: the four mathematical instances
measure it. The generally useful and the magic-
al elevate it.
Again, out of these twenty-seven instances,
some must be collected immediately, without
waiting for a particular investigation of properties.
Such are the similar, singular, deviating, and
bordering instances, those of power, and of the
gate, and suggesting, generally useful, and magic-
al instances. For these either assist and cure
the understanding and senses, or furnish our gene-
ral practice. The remainder are to be collected
when we finish our synoptical tables for the work
f]..OK II.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
t25
of the interpreter, upon any particular nature.
For these instances, honoured and gifted with
such prerogatives, are like the soul amid the vul-
gar crowd of instances, and (as we from the first
ohserved) a few of them are worth a multitude
of the others. When, therefore, we are forming
our tables, they must be searched out with the
greatest zeal, and placed in the table. And,
since mention must be made of them in what fol-
lows, a treatise upon their nature has necessarily
been prefixed. We must next, however, proceed
to the supports and corrections of induction, and
thence to concretes, the latent process, and latent
conformations, and the other matters, which we
iiave enumerated in their order in the twenty-first
aphorism, in order that, like good and faithful
guardians, we may yield up their fortune to man-
kind, upon the emancipation and majority of iheii
understanding; from which must necessarily fol-
low an improvement of their estate, and an in-
crease of their power over nature. For, man, by
the fall, lost at once his state of innocence and
his empire over creation, both of which can be
partially recovered, even in this life, the first by
religion and faith, the second bv the arts and
sciences. Forcreation did not become entirely and
utterly rebellious by the curse ; but in consequence
of the divine decree, " In the sweat of thy brow
shalt thou eat bread," she is compelled by our
labours, (not assuredly by our disputes or magic-
al ceremonies,) at length, to afford mankind, in
some degree, his bread, that is to say, to supply
man's daily wants.
END OF NOVUM ORGANUM.
Vol III. -54
Sua
PREPARATION
FOR A
NATURAL AND EXPERIMENTAL HISTORY.
A DESCRIPTION
SUCH A NATURAL AND EXPERIMENTAL HISTORY AS SHALL BE SUFFICIENT AND
SUITABLY ARRANGED FOR FORMING THE BASIS AND FOUNDATION
OF A TRUE PHILOSOPHY.
Our motive for publishing our Instauration in
parts, was that we might make sure of something.
A similar reason induces us to subjoin, even now,
another small portion of the work, and to publish
it with that which has been completed above. It
is a description and delineation of such a natural
and experimental hisiory as should be arranged
for the completing our philosophy, and should
comprehend genuine and copious materials, pro-
perly adapted to the work of the interpreter who
is next to make his appearance. The proper
place for this would have been that where we
treat of preparations in the regular course of our
inquiry. Yet does it appear better to anticipate,
rather than wait for this proper place, since the
history which we design, and will presently
describe, is a matter of great magnitude, and not
to be effected without vast labour and expense,
requiring the combined assistance of many, and
being, (to use our former expression,) as it were,
a royal work. It occurred, therefore, that it
might b6 worth while to see if any ethers would
undertake it, so that whilst we orderly pursue
our design, this complicated and laborious por-
tion of it may, by the joint application of others,
be set in order and prepared even in our lifetime,
should it so please God ; especially, since our
own unassisted strength appears scarcely ade-
quate to so great a sphere. For we may, per-
haps, by our own power, overcome all that is the
actual w-ork of the understanding, but the mate-
rials on which it is to work, are so scattered, that
they should be sought after and imported from all
quarters by factors and merchants. We consider
it, moreover, as scarcely worthy of our undertak-
ing ourselves to waste time in that which is open
to the industry of almost all. We will, however,
perform the principal part, that of laying down,
with diligence and accuracy, a model and sketch
of such a history as will satisfy our intention,
lest, for want of caution, others should waste
their time, and direct their efforts by the example
of such natural histories as are now in use, thus
wandering far from our proposal. In the mean
time, that which we have often said must here be
specially repeated, namely, that if all the talents
of every age had concurred, or shall hereafter
concur, if the whole human race had applied, or
shall apply itself to philosophy, and the whole
globe had consisted, or shall consist of acade-
mies, and colleges, and schools of the learned,
yet, without such a natural and experimental his-
tory as we shall now recommend, it were impos-
sible that any prooTess worthy of mankind should
have been, or should hereafter be made in philo-
sophy and the sciences. But, on the other hand,
when it has once been prepared and drawn up,
with the addition of such auxiliary and instruct-
ive experiments as will occur or be searched out,
in the course of interpretation, the investigation
of nature and of all the sciences will be a work
many years. This, therefore, must be done, or
the whole work must be abandoned, for by this
method only can the foundation be laid of a genu-
ine and active philosophy; and men will at once
perceive, as if roused from a profound sleep, what
a difference exists between the dogmatism and
fictions of man's wit, and a genuine and active
philosophy, and what it is to consult nature her-
self about nature.
In the first place, then, we will give general
precepts as to completing such a history, and
will then set a particular species of it before
men's eyes, alluding occasionally to the end to
which the inquiry must be adapted and referred,
as well as to the subject-matter of investigation
itself; in order that, the intention being well un-
derstood and known beforehand, it may suggest
other points that may have escaped us. To tliis
history we are wont to give the name of First, oi
Mother History. ♦
426
APHORISMS
ON THE FORMATION OF THE FIRST HISTORY.
APHORISMS.
I. Nature is placed in three situations, and
subject to a threefold government. For she is
either free, and left to unfold herself in a regular
course, or she is driven from her position by the
obstinacy and resistance of matter, and the vio-
lence of obstacles, or she is constrained and
moulded by human art and labour. The first state
applies to the specific nature of bodies ; the second
to monsters; the third to artificial productions, in
which she submits to the yoke imposed on her by
man, for without the hand of man they would not
have been produced. But from the labour and
contrivance of man an entirely new appearance
of bodies takes its rise, forming, as it were, an-
other universe or theatre. Natural history, then,
is threefold, and treats either of the liberty, the
wanderings, or the fetters of nature ; so that we
may aptly divide it into the histories of generation,
pretergeneration, and arts ; the latter of which
divisions we are also wont to call mechanic or
experimental. Yet would we not direct these
three to l)e carried on separately, for why should
not the history of monstrosities in ever)' species
be combined with that of the species itself? So,
also, artificial subjects may sometimes properly
enough he treated of together with certain natural
species, though, at other times, it is better to
separate them. Circumstances, therefore, must
guide us, for too rigid a method admits of repeti-
tions and prolixity as much as no method.
II. Natural history being, as we have observed,
threefold relative to its subject, is twofold in its
application. For it is employed either as a means
of arriving at the knowledge of the matters them-
selves which are consigned to it, or as the ele-
mentary material for philosophy, and as the stock
or forest, as it were, from which to furnish forth
genuine induction. The latter is its present ap-
plication ; its present one, I observe, for it was
never before so applied. For neither Aristotle,
nor Theophrastus, nor Dioscorides, nor Pliny, nor
much less tl\e moderns, ever proposed this as the
object of natural history. And the principal point
to be attended to is this, that those who shall
henceforth take charge of natural liistory, do per-
petually reflect, and impress upon their minds,
that they ought not to be subservient to the plea-
sure or even benefit which may, at this present
time, be derived from their narrative, but that
they must collect and prepare such and so varied
a supply of things, as may be sufficient for the
forming of genuine axioms. If they thus reflect,
they will themselves lay down their own method
for such a history, for the end governs the means.
III. But by as much as this is a matter re-
quiring great pains and labour, by so much the
less should it be unnecessarily burdened. There
are three points, then, upon which men should be
warned to employ but scanty labour, inasmuch as
they infinitely increase the bulk of the work, and
add but little or nothing to its value.
First, then, let them dismiss antiquity and quo-
tations, or the suflfrages of authors, all disputes,
controversies, and discordant opinions, and, lastly,
all philological disquisitions. Let no author be
quoted except on doubtful points, nor controver-
sies entered into except on matter of great im-
portance; and as for the ornaments of language,
and comparisons, and the whole treasury of elo-
quence, and the like puerilities, let them be wholly
renounced. Nay, let all which is admitted be
propounded briefly and concisely, so as to be
nothing less than words. For no one, who is
preparing and laying by materials, for building
houses or ships, or the like, takes the trouble, as
they would in shops, of arranging them elegantly
and showing them ofl" to advantage, but rather
attends only to their being strong and good, and
to their taking up as little room as possible in his
warehouse. Let the like be done here.
Secondly, There is not much real use in the
lavish abundance of descriptions, painted repre-
sentations of species, and collections of their va-
rieties with which natural history is adorned.
These trifling varieties are the mere sport and
wantonness of nature, and approximate to merely
individual characteristics, affording a pleasant
digression, but a mean and superfluous sort of
information as regards science.
Thirdly, We must reject all superstitious narra-
tives, (I do not say prodigious, where faithful
and probable accounts can be obtained, but super-
stitious,) together with the experiments of natural
magic. For we would not accustom philosophy
in her infancy, whose very nurse is natural his-
tory, to old wives' tales. A time may come
(after a deeper investigation of nature) when such
427
428
PREPARATION FOR A NATURAL
matters may be lightly toup.hed upon, so as to
extract and lay up for use such natural knowledge
as may lurk in their dregs, but till then they are
to be put aside. In like manner, the experiments
of natural magic are to be diligently and rigidly
sifted before their adoption, especially those which
are wont to be derived from vulgar sympathies and
antipathies, owing to the indolence and credulity
of both believers and inventors.
It is i\o slight matter to have thus relieved na-
tural history of these three vanities, which might
otherwise have hereafter filled volumes. Nor is
this all ; for it is as essential to a great work, that
that which is admitted be briefly described, as
that the superfluous should be rejected, although
it must be obvious that this chastened and precise
style must afford less pleasure, both to the reader
and to the author. But it is ever to be repeated,
that the object is to prepare a mere granary and
ware house, in which no one is to loiter or dwell
for amusement, but only to visit as occasion may
require, when any thing is wanted for the work
of the interpreter, which follows next in order.
IV. One thing, above all others, is requisite
for the history we design; namely, that it be
most extensive, and adapted to the extent of the
universe. For the world is not to be narrowed
down to the measure of the understanding, (as
has hitherto been done,) but the understanding is
to be expanded, and opened for the admission of
the actual representation of the world as it is.
Tlie maxim of examining little and pronouncing
on that little has ruined every thing. Resuming
then our late partition of natural history, into that
of generation, pretergeneration, and the arts, we
divide the first into five parts: 1. The history of
the sky and heavenly bodies. 2. Of meteors and
the regions (as they are termed) of the air, that
is to say, its division from the moon to the earth's
surface, to which division we assign every kind
of comet, either superior or inferior, (h4>wever the
actual fact may be,) for the sake of method.
3. The history of the earth and sea. 4. Of the
elements, as they are called, flame or fire, air,
water, and earth; considering them, however,
under that name, not as the first principles of
things, but as forming the larger masses of na-
tural bodies. For natural objects are so distri-
buted, that the quantity or mass of certain bodies
throughout the universe is very great, owing to
the easy and obvious material texture required
for their conformation, whilst the quantity of
others is but small and sparingly supplied, the
material, being of a diversified and subtile nature, |
having many specific qualities, and being of an ;
organized construction, such as the different :
species of natural objects, namely, metals, plants, j
and animals. We are wont, therefore, to call the 1
former greater colleges, and the latter lesser col- j
loges. The fourth part of our history, then, is of ,
the former, under the name of elements. Nor is
there any confusion between this and the second
or third parts, although we have spoken of air
water, and earth in each. For in the second and
third they are spoken of as integral parts of t)ie
world, and in relation to the creation and con-
figuration of the universe; but in the fourth is
contained the history of their own substance and
nature, as displayed in the homogeneous parts of
each, and not referred to the whole. Lastly, the
fifth part of natural history contains tiie lesser
colleges or species, upon which alone natural
history has hitherto been chiefly occupied.
As to the history of pretergeneration, we have
already observed that it may, with the greatest
convenience, be combined with that of generation,
including that which is prodigious only, not na-
tural. For we reserve the superstitious history
of miracles (such as it may be) for a separate
treatise, nor is it to be undertaken immediately,
but rather later, when more way shall have been
made in the investigation of nature.
We divide the history of the arts, and of na-
ture's course diverted and changed by man, or
experimental history, into three parts. For it is
derived either, I. From the mechanical arts; or,
2. From the practical part of the Hberal sciences ;
or, 3. From various practical applications and ex-
periments, which have not yet been classed as a
peculiar art, nay, sometimes occur in every day's
experience and require no such art. If, then, a
history be completed of all these which we have
mentioned, namely, generation, pretergenera-
tion, the arts and experiments, nothing appears
omitted for preparing the senses to inform the
understanding, and we shall no longer dance, as it
were, within the narrow circles of the enchanter,
but extend our march roUnd the confines of the
world itself.
V. Of those parts into which we have divided
natural history, that of the arts is the most useful,
since it exhibits bodies in motion, and leads more
directly to practice. Besides this, it lifts the
mask and veil, as it were, from natural objects,
which are generally concealed or obscured under
a diversity of forms and external appearance.
Again, the attacks of art are assuredly the very
fetters and miracles of Proteus, which betray the
last struggle and efl^orts of nature. For bodies
resist destruction or annihilation, and rather trans-
form them.selves into various shapes. The great-
est diligence, therefore, is to be bestowed upon
this history, however mechanical and illiberal it
may appear, laying aside all fastidious arrogance.
Again, amongst the arts those are preferable
which control, alter, and prepare natural bodies,
aud the materials of objects, such as agriculture,
cookery, chymistry, dyeing, manufactures of
glass, enamel, sugar, gunpowder, fireworks,
paper, and the like. There is less use to be de-
rived from those which chiefly consist in a deli-
cate motion of the hands, or of too's, such as
AND EXPERIMENTAL HISTORY.
429
weavin J, carpentry, architecture, mill and clock- '
work, and the like ; although the latter are by no '
means to be neglected, both on account of their
frequently presenting circumstances tending to
the alteration of natural bodies, and also on ac-
count of the accurate information they afford of i
translatitious motion, a point of the greatest im-
portance in many inquiries.
One thing, however, is to be observed and well i
remembered in this whole collection of arts,
namely, to admit not only those experiments i
which conduce to the direct object of the art, but i
also those which indirectly occur. For instance,
the changing of the lobster or a crab when cooked i
from a dark to a red colour has notliiiig to do with j
cookery, yet this instance is not a bad one in in-
vestigating the nature of redness, since the same
thing occurs in baked bricks. So, again, the
circumstance of meat requiring less time for salt-
ing in winter than in summer, is not only useful
information to the cook for preparing his meat,
but is also a good instance to point out the nature
and effect of cold. He therefore will be wonder-
fully mistaken, who shall think that he has satis-
fied our object when he has collected these expe-
ri(nents of the arts for the sole purpose of im-
proving each art in particular. For, although we
do not by any means despise even this, yet our
firm intention is to cause the streams of every
species of mechanical experiment to flow from all
quarters into the ocean of philosophy. The choice
of the most important instances in each (such as
should be most abundantly and diligently search-
ed and, as it were, hunted out) must be governed
by the prerogative instances.
VI. We must here allude to that which we have
treated more at length in the ninety-ninth, one
hundred and nineteenth, and one hundred and
twentieth aphorisms of the first book, and need
now only briefly urge as a precept, namely, that
there be admitted into this history, I. The most
common matters, such as one might think it super-
fluous to insert from their being so well known;
2. Base, illiberal, and filthy matters, (for to the
pure every thing is pure, and if money derived
from urine be of good odour, much more so is
knowledge and information from any quarter,)
and also those which are trifling and puerile;
lastly, such matters as appear too minute, as
being of themselves of no use. For (as has been
observed) the subjects to be treated of in this
history are not compiled on their own account,
nor ought their worth, therefore, to be measured
by their intrinsic value, but by their application 1
to other points, and their influence on philosophy.
VII. We moreover recommend that all natural
bodies and qualities be, as far as possible, re-
duced to number, weight, measure, and precise
definition; for we are planning actual results and
not mere theory ; and it is a proper combination
of physics and mathematics that generates prac-
tice. The exact return and distances of tho
planets, therefore, in the history of the heavens,
the circumference of the earth, and the extent of
its surface compared with that of water, in the
history of the earth and sea, the quantity of com-
pression which the air will suffer without any
powerful resistance, in the history of air, the
quantity by which one metal exceeds another in
weight, in that of metals, and a number of like
points are to be thoroughly investigated and de-
tailed. When, however, the exact proportions
cannot be obtained, recourse must be had to those
which are estimated or comparative. Thus, if we
distrust the calculations of astronomers as to dis-
tances, it may be stated that the moon is within
the shadow of the earth, and Mercury above the
moon, &c. If mean proportions cannot be had,
let extremes be taken, as that the feeblest magnet
can raise iron of such a weight compared with
its own, and the most powerful sixty times as
much as its own weight, which I have myself
observed in a very small armed magnet. For we
know very well that determinate instances do not
readily or often occur, but must be sought aftei
as auxiliary, when chiefly wanted, in the very
course of interpretation. If, however, they casu-
ally occur, they should be inserted in natural his-
tory, provided they do not too much retard its
progress.
VIII. With regard to the credit due to the
matters admitted into our history, they must
either be certain, doubtful, or absolutely false.
The first are to be simply stated, the second to be
noted with "a report states," or, " they say,'' or,
" I have heard from a person worthy of credit,"
and the like. For it would be too laborious to
enter into the arguments on both sides, and would
too much retard the author, nor is it of much con-
sequence towards our present object, since (as
we have observed in the hundred and eighteenth
aphorism of the first book) the correctness of the
axioms will soon discover the errors of experi-
ment, unless they be very general. If, however,
there be any instance of greater importance than
the rest, either from its use, or the conseq-uences
dependent upon it, then the author should cer-
tainly be named, and not barely named, but some
notice should be taken as to whether he merely
heard or copied it, (as is generally the case with
Pliny,) or rather affirmed it of his own know-
ledge, and. also, whether it were a matter within
his own time or before it, or whether such as, if
true, must necessarily have been witnessed by
many; or, lastly, whether the author were \;iin
and trifling, or steady and accurate and the likt,
points, which give weight to testimony. Lastly,
those matters whi'-h are false, and yet have been
much repeated and discussed, such as have gained
ground by the lapse of ages, partly owing to
neglect, partly to their being used as poetical
comparisons; for instance, that the diamond
430
PREPARATION FOR A NATURAL
overpowers the magnet, that garlic enervates,
that arnbe. attracts every thing but the herb basil,
&c. &c., all these ought, not to be silently re-
jected, but expressly proscribed, that they may
never trouble science more.
It will not, however, be improper to notice the
origin of any fable or absurdity, if it should be
traced in the course of inquiry, such as the vene-
real qualities attributed to the herb satyrium,
from its roots bearing some resemblance to the
testicles. The real cause of this formation being
the growth of a fresh bulbous root every year,
which adheres to that of the preceding year, and
produces the twin roots, and is proved by the firm,
juicy appearance which the new root always
presents, whilst the old one is withered and
spongy. This last circumstance renders it a matter
not worthy of much wonder, that the one root
should always sink and the other swim, though
this, too, has been considered marvellous,and has
added w^eight to the reputed virtues of the plant.
IX. There now remain certain useful accesso-
ries to natural history, for the purpose of bending
and adapting it more readily to the labour of the
interpreter which is to follow. They are five in
number.
In the first place, queries are to be subjoined,
(not of causes, but of facts,) in order to challenge
and court further inquiry. As, for instance, in
the history of the earth and sea, whether the
Caspian has any tide, and the period of it 1
whether there is any southern continent, or only
islands? and the like.
Secondly, in relating any new and delicate ex-
periment, the method adopted in making it should
be added, in order to allow free scope to the
reader's judgment upon the soundness or fallacy
of the information derived from it, and also to
fipur on men's industry in searching for more
accurate methods, if such there be.
Thirdly, if there be any particle of doubt or
hesitation as to the matter related, we would by
no means have it suppressed or passed over, but it
should be plainly and clearly set out, by way of
note or warning. For we would have our first his-
tory written with the most religious particularity,
and as though upon oath as to the truth of every
syllable, for it is a volume of God's works, and
(as far as the majesty of things divine can brook
comparison with the lowliness of earthly objects)
is, as it were, a second Scripture.
Fourthly, it will be proper to intersperse some
observations, as Pliny has done. Thus, in the
history of the earth and sea, we may observe,
that the figure of the earth, as far as it is known
to us, when compared with that of the sea, is
narrow and pointed towards the south, broad and
expanded towards the north, the contrary to that
of- the sea: and that vast oceans divide the con-
tinents, with channels extended from north to
south, not from east to west, except, perhaps,
near the poles. Canons, also, (which are Jnly
general and universal observations,) are very pro-
perly introduced ; as in the history of the heavens,
that Venus is never more than forty-six degrees
distant from the sun, nor Mercury more than
twenty-three; and that the planets, wliich are
placed above the sun, move most slowly whea
farthest from the earth, those beneath the suo
most quickly. Another kind of observation is
to be adopted, which has rtot hitherto been intro-
duced, although of no small importance; namely,
that to a list of things which exist, should be
subjoined one of those which do not exist, as, in
the history of the heavens, that no oblong or
trianofular star has been discovered, but all are
globular, either simply, as the moon, or angular
to the sight, but globular in the centre, as the
other stars ; or bearded to the sight, and globular
in the centre, as the sun: or, that the stars are
not arranged in any order, that there is no quin-
cunx, square, or other perfect figure, (notwith-
standing the names of the delta, crown, cross,
wain, &c.,) scarcely in a right line, excepting,
perhaps, the belt and sword of Orion.
Fifthly, it will, perhaps, assist the inquirer,
though pernicious and destructive to the believer,
to review all received opinions, their varieties and
sects, briefly and currently as he proceeds, just to
waken the intellect, and nothing further.
X. These will form a sufficient store of general
precepts; and if they be diligently adhered to,
the labour of this our history will both be directed
immediately to its object and confined within pro-
per limits. But if, even thus circumscribed and
limited, it may, perhaps, appear vast to the
feeble-minded, let him cast his eyes upon our
libraries, and observe the codes of civil and canon
law on the one hand, and the commentaries of
doctors and practitioners on the other, and see
what difference there is in the bulk and number
of volumes. P'or we, who as faithful scribes do
but receive and copy the very laws of nature, not
only can, but must by necessity be brief; but opi-
nions, dogmatisms, and theory, are innumerjible
and endless.
In the distribution of our work we made men-
tion of the cardinal virtues of nature, and observed
that a history of them must be completed before
we come to the work of interpretation. This wa
have by no means forgotten, but we reserve it to
ourselves, not daring to augur much from the
industry of others in the attempt, until men have
begun to be a little more acquainted with nature.
We next proceed, therefore, to the designation of
particular histories.
Pressed, however, by business, we have only
leisure sufficient to subjoin a catalogue of parti
cular histories, arranged under their proper heads
As soon as time permits, it is our intention to
instruct, as it were, by interrogation in each
namely, as to the points to be investigated and
A I^ATaLOGUK of particular HISTORIKS.
431
c.>nimittod in wrilinof in every history, on account
oi" tlieir conduciiinf to the end in view, and forin-
iiijif ])articular topics; or rather, (to borrow a me-
laplior from the civilians,) in this great action or
cause, which has been conceded and instituted
by special tavour and divine providence, and by
which mankind are conteniling for the recovery
of their dominion over nature, let us examine
nature and the arts themselves upon interroga-
tives.
A CATALOGUE
OF
PARTICULAR HISTORIES,
ARRANGED UNDER HEADS.
1. A History of the Heavenly bodies; or, an
Astronomical History.
2. A History of the Configuration of Heaven and
its Parts as it lies towards the Earth and its
Parts; or, a Cosmographical History.
3 A History of Comets.
4. A History of Igneous Meteors.
5. A History of Thunderbolts, Flashes of Light-
ning, Thunders, and Coruscations.
6. A History of Winds, Sudden Blasts, and
Undulations of the Air.
7. A History of Rainbows.
8. A History of Clouds as they are seen in the
Air above.
9. A History of the Azure Expanse, of Twilight,
of two or more Suns or Moons visible at once,
of Halos, of the different Colours of the Sun
and Moon, and of all that diversity of the Hea-
venly Bodies to the eye which results from the
medium of vision.
10. /\. History of Rains, common, tempestuous,
and extraordinary ; also of Cataracts of Heaven,
as they are called, and the like.
11. A History of Hail, Snow, Ice, Hoar-frost,
Fog, Dew, and the like.
12. A History of all other Substances which fall
or are precipitated from on high, and are gene-
rated in upper Air.
13. A History of Noises heard on high, if there
be any, besides Thunder.
14. A History of the Air as a whole, or relatively
to the Structure of the World.
15 A History of Weathers or of the State of Tem-
perature throughout the Year, with reference
to variety of clime, and the Accidents of parti-
cular Seasons and the periods of the Year ; of
Floods, Heats, Droughts, and the like.
16. A History of the Earth and Sea, of their
Pigure and Outline, their Configuration rela-
tively to one another, the manner in whioh tlicy
stretch into one another in broad Tracts or nar-
row Indentations, the History of the Islands
in the Sea, of the Bays of the Sea, of salt
inland Lakes, of Isthmuses, and Promontories.
17. The History of the Motions, if there be such,
of the Globe of Earth and Sea, and from what
Experiments they may be inferred.
18. The History of the greater Motions and
Agitations of the Earth and Sea, that is, of
Earthquakes, Tremblings of the Earth, and
Chasms ; of new Islands, of floating Islands,
of Divulsions of the parts of the Land by in-
roads of the Sea, of its Encroachments and
Influxes, and, on the other hand, its Recessions ;
of the Eruption of Fires from the Earth, of
sudden Eruptions of Water from the Earth,
and the like.
19. A Geogniphical Natural History, of Moun-
tains, Valleys, Woods, Plains, Sands, Marshes,
Lakes, Rivers, Torrents, Fountains, and all
their diversities of irrigation, and the like;
Leaving out of view Nations, Provinces,
Cities, and other parts of Civil Society.
20. A History of the Ebbs and Flows of the
Sea, of Undulations, and other Motions of the
Sea.
21. A History of the other Accidents of the Sea,
its Saltness, diversity of Colours, Depth, of
Submarine Rocks, Mountains, and Valleys, and
the like.
The following are Histories of the larger Masses
in Nature.
22. A History of Flame and Ignited Bodies.
23. A History of the Air in its Substance, not its
Configuration.
432
A CATALOGUE OF PARTICULAR HISTORIES.
24. A History of Water in its Substance, not its
Configuration.
25. A History of the Earth, and its Varieties in
its Substance, not its Configuration.
The following are Histories of Species,
26. A History of the perfect Metals, of Gold, Sil-
ver; of Mines, Veins, and Marcasites of the
same, also the chymical Actions of Minerals
in their natural state.
27. The History of Quicksilver.
28. A History of Fossils ; as vitriol, sulphur, &c.
29. A History of Gems; as the diamond, ruby,
30. A History of Stones ; as marble, gold-touch-
stone, flint, &c.
31. A History of the Magnet.
32. A History of Miscellaneous Substances,
vv^hich are neither wholly fossil nor vegeta-
ble ; as salts, amber, ambergris, &c.
33. A Chymical History, regarding Metals and
Minerals.
34. A History of Plants, Trees, Fruits, Grapes,
and their parts, the Roots, Stalks, Wood,
Leaves, Flowers, Fruits, Seeds, Tears, or Exu-
dations, &c.
35. A Chymical History, regarding Vegetables.
36. A History of Fishes, and their Parts and
Generation.
37. A History of Volant Creatures, their Parts
and Generation.
38. A History of Quadrupeds, their Parts and
Generation.
39. A History of Reptiles, Worms, Flies, and
other Insects, and of their Parts and Genera-
tion.
40. A Chymical History of those Substances
which are extracted from Animals.
The following are Histories of Man,
4L A History of the Figure and external Mem-
bers of Man, his Stature, the Knitting of his
Frame, his Countenance and Features; and the
varieties o*" these, according to nation and cli-
mate, or any minute diversities.
42. A History of Physiognomy, derived from the
former.
43. A History Anatomical, or of the Internal
Members of Man, and their Variety, so far as
it is found in the Natural Cohesion and Struc-
ture of the Parts, and not merely with refer-
ence to Diseases and preternatural Accidents.
44. A History of the Homogeneous Parts of
Man ; as of flesh, bones, membranes, &c.
45. A History of the Humours in Man ; as blood,
hile, semen, &c.
46. A History of Excrements, Spittle, Urine,
Sweats, Faeces, the Hair of the Head, and
Hair generally, Nails, and the like.
47. The History of the Faculties of Attraction,
Digestion, Retention, Expulsion ; the Forma-
tion of the Blood ; the Assimilation of Nou-
rishment to the Frame, the Conversion of th»j
Blood and the Flower of it into Spirits, &c.
48. A History of Natural and Involuritary Mo
tions; as the motions of the heart, the motions
of the pulse, sneezing, the motions of tlie
lungs, priapism.
49. A History of Motion of a mixed nature,
between natural and voluntary ; respiration,
coughing, making water, stool, &c.
50. A History of Voluntary Motions; as of the
organs of articulation or speaking, the motions
of the eyes, tongue, jaws, hands, fingers, of
swallowing, &c.
51. A History of Sleep and Dreams.
52. A History of different Habits of Body, of fat
and lean, of complexions, (as they are called,)
&c.
53. A History of the Generation of Man.
54. A History of Conception, Quickening, Ges-
tation in Utero, Birth, &c.
55. A History of the Nourishment of Man, of
all Esculents and Potables, and of all Diet,
and its Varieties, according to nations, or minor
differences.
56. A History of the Augmentation and Growth
of the Body, in the whole, or in its parts.
57. A History of the Course of life: of Infancy,
Boyhood, Manhood, Old Age; of Longevity.
Shortness of Life, and the like, according to
nations, or minor differences.
58. A History of Life and Death.
59. A Medical History of Diseases ; their symp-
toms and signs.
60. A Medical History of the Cure, Remedies
of, and Liberations from Diseases.
61. A Medical History of those Things which
preserve the Body and Health.
62. A Medical History of those Things which be-
long to the Form and Beauty of the Body, &c.
63. A Medical History of those Things which
alter the Body, and belong to Alterative Regi-
men.
64. A History of Drugs.
65. A Chirurgical History.
66. A Chymical History, with Re erence to Me-
dicines.
67. A History of Light and Visible Objects, or
optical.
68. A History of Painting, Sculpture, Casts, &c.
69. A History of Hearing and Sounds.
70. A History of Music.
71. A History of Smell and Odours.
72. A History of Taste and Savours
73. A History of Touch, and its Objects.
74. A History of Venery, as a Species of Touch.
75. A History of Bodily Pains, as a Species of
Touch.
76. A History of Pleasure and Pain in general.
77. A H-istory of the Passions; as anger, love,
shame, &c.
A CATALOGUE OF PARTICULAR HISTORIES.
433
78. A History of the Intellectual Faculties ; the Co-
gitative Faculty, P'ancy, Reason, Memory, &c.
79. A History of Natural Divination.
80. A History of Discernments ; or, Discrimina-
tions of Occult Qualities.
81. A History of Cookery, and the Arts subser-
vient to it; of the Shambles, of Aviaries, &c.
82. A History of Baking, ami the Preparation of
Bread, and the subservient Arts, as grinding
meal.
83. A History of Wines.
84. A History of the Cellar, and different Kinds
of Drinks.
85. A History of Sweetmeats and Confections.
86. A History of Honey.
87. A History of Sugar.
88. A History of Milkmeats.
89. A History of the Bath of Unguents.
90. A Miscellaneous History of the Care of the
Person ; Shaving, Perfuming, &c.
91. A History of Working in Gold, and the Arts
subservient to it.
92. A History of the Preparation of Wool, and
the Arts subservient to it.
93. A History of Manufactures of Silk and Satin,
and the Arts subservient to them.
94. A History of Manufactures of Linen, Canvass,
Cotton, Hair, and other thready Substances,
and of the Arts subservient to them.
95. A History of the Preparation of Feathers.
96. A History of Weaving, and the Arts subser-
vient to it.
97. A History of Dyeing.
98. A History of Leather and Tanning, and the
Arts subservient to it.
99. A History of Mattrasses and Feather Beds.
100. A History of Working in Iron.
101. A History of the Lapidary Art; or of Stone-
cutting.
102. A History of Bricks and Tiles.
103. A History of Pottery.
104. A History of Cements and Incrustations.
105. A History of Working in Wood.
106. A History of Lead.
107. A History of Glass and all Vitreous Sub-
stances, and of the Manufacture of Glass.
108. A History of Architecture in general.
109. A History of Wagons, Cars, Litters, &c.
110. A Typographical History of Books, Writ-
ings, Seals, Ink, Pens, Paper, Parchment, &c. I
HI. A History of Wax.
112. A History of Osiers.
113. A History of Carpeting, and Manufactures
of Straw, Rushes, and the like.
114. A History of Washing, Brushing, &c.
115. A History of Farming, Pasturage, the Ma-
naging of Wood, &c.
116. A History of Gardens.
117. A History of Fishing.
118. A History of Hunting and Fowling.
119. A History of the Art of War, and the Arts
subservient to it, as the manufacture of arms,
bows, arrows, muskets, projectile engines, ba-
listae, machines, &c.
120. A History of the Nautical Art, and the Trades
and Arts subservient to it.
121. A History of Gymnastics, and of all Kinds
of Exercise used by Man.
122. A History of Riding.
123. A History of Games of all kinds.
124. A History of Conjurors and Sleight of Hand
Men.
125. A Miscellaneous History of different Artifi-
cial Substances, as smalt, porcelain, various
cements, &c.
126. A History of Salts.
127. A Miscellaneous History of different Ma-
chines and Motions.
128. A Miscellaneous History of Common Expe-
riments, which have not yet united into an Art.
Histories also of pure Mathematics ought to be
written, although they be rather Observations
than Experiments.
129. A History of the Natures and Powers of
Numbers.
130. A History of the Natures and Powers of
Figures.
It may not be useless to suggest that, as many
of the experiments fall under two or more heads,
(thus the History of Plants and of the Art of
Gardening contains many things common to both,)
it will be more convenient to regulate the inquisi-
tion by the arts, the arrangement by the bodies.
For we pay no great attention to the mechanical
arts as such, but only to those of them which con-
tribute to furnish forth philosophy. But these
matters will be best disposed of as the cases arise.
Vni HI.— 55
20
THIRD PART
OF THE INSTAURATIO.
A
NATURAL AND EXPERIMENTAL HISTORY,
TO SERVE AS A FOUNDATION FOR PHILOSOPHY:
OR,
PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE;
BEINa THE THIRD PART OF THE INSTAURATIO MAGNA.
TO
THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS AND EXCELLENT PRINCE
CHARLES,
SON AND HEIR TO THE HIGH AND MIGHTY KING JAMES.
I HUMBLY present unto your highness the first-fruits of our Natural History ; a thing exceeding
little in quantity, like a grain of mustard seed, but yet a pledge of those things which, God willing,
shall ensue. For we have bound ourselves, as by a vow, every month that God shall of his good-
ness please (whose glory it sets forth, as it were in a new canticle or song) to prolong our life, to
set out one or more parts of it, according as their length and difficulty shall prove more or less.
Others may peradventure (moved by our example) be moved to the like industry; especially when
they shall clearly perceive what is in hand. For in a natural history which is good and well set
out, are the keys both of sciences and works. God preserve your highness long in safety.
Your highness's humble and devoted servant,
Fran. St. Alban.
THE TITLES OF THE HISTORIES AND INQUISITIONS DESTINED FOR THE
FIRST SIX MONTHS.
The History of Winds.
The HisTORy of Density and Rarity, as
LIKEWISE of Coition and Expansion of
Matter by Spaces.
The History of Heavy and Light.
The History of the Sympathy and Antipa-
thy of Things.
The History of Sulphur, Mercury, and
Salt.
The History of Life and Death.
434
THE
NATURAL AND EXPERIMENTAL HISTORY,
FOR THE MAKING UP OF PHILOSOPHY:
OR,
EXPERIMENTS OF THE UNIVERSE:
WHICH IS THE THIRD FART OF THE INSTAURATIO MAGNA.
Men are to be entreated, advised, and adjured,
even by their fortunes, to submit their minds and
seek for knowledge in the greater world; and
likewise to cast away so much as the thought of
philosophy, or at least to hope but for slender
and small fruits thereof, until a diligent and
approved natural and experimental history be
acquired and made up. For what would these
shallow brains of men, and these potent trifles
havel There were among the ancients nume-
rous opinions of philosophers, as of Pythagoras,
Philolaus, Xenophanes, Heraclitus, Empedocles,
Parmenides, Anaxagoras, Leucippus, Democri-
tns, Plato, Aristotle, Theophrastus, Zeno, and
others. All these made up arguments of worlds,
as of fables, according to their own fancies, and
recited and published those fables; whereof some
indeed were more handsome and probable, and
some again most harsh. But in our ages, by
means of colleges and schools' disciplines, wits
are somewhat more restrained ; yet have they not
quite ceased: Patricius, Telesius, Brunus, Seve-
rine, the Dane, Gilbertus, an Englishman, and
Campanella, did set foot upon the stage, and
acted new fables, neither much applauded, nor of
any elegant argument or subject. But do we
wonder at these things, as though such sects and
opinions might not in an infinite number arise in
«ll agesi For neither is there, nor ever will be
any end or limit for these things. One snatches
at one thing, another is pleased with another;
there is no dry nor clear sight of any thing ; every
one plays the philosopher out of the small trea-
sures of his own fancy, as it were out of Plato's
cave; the more sublime wits more acutely,
and with better success; the duller with less
success, but equal obstinacy : and not long since,
by the discipline of some learned (and, as things
go now, excellent) men, sciences are bounded
within the limits of some certain authors which
they have set down, imposing them upon old
men, and instilling them into young. So that
now (as TuUy cavilled upon Caesar's consulship)
the star Lyra or Harpe riseth by an edict, and
authority is taken for truth, not truth for authority;
which kind of order and discipline is very con-
venient for our present use, but banisheth those
which are better. For we both suffer for and
emulate our first parents' sin ; they desired to be
like unto God, and their posterity much more ;
for we create new worlds, go before nature and
command it. We must have all things to be so
as may agree with our folly, not to divine wis-
dom, nor as they are found to be in themselves ;
neither can I say which we rest most, our wits or
the things themselves: but certainly we set the
stamps and seals of our own images upon God's
creatures and works, and never carefully look
upon and acknowledge the Creator's stamps.
Therefore, we do not, without cause, again strive
for the domination over the creatures. For,
whereas, even after the fall of man, he had some
kind of domination left him over reluctant crea-
tures, that he might tame and subdue them by
true and solid arts ; we have, for the most part,
lost that, also, through our own insolence, be-
cause we will be like unto God, and follow the
dictates of our own reason. Wherefore, if there
be any humility towards the Creator, any reve-
rence and magnifying of his works, any charity in
men, or care to release them out of their necessi-
ties and miseries, if there be any love of truth in
natural things, hatred of darkness, and a desire of
purifying the understanding, men are to be again
and again desired that, casting off, or, at least,
laying aside for a while the flying and prepos-
terous philosophies, which have set the theses
before the hypotheses, or suppositions before solid
grounds, have captivated experience, and tri-
umphed over the works of God, they would hum-
bly, and with a certain reverence, draw near and
turn over the great volume of the creatures, stop
and meditate upon it; and, being cleansed, and
free from opinions, handle them choicely and en-
tirely. This is the speech and language that
went out into all the ends of the world, and suf-
435
436
RULE OF THIS PRESENT HISTORY.
fered not in the confusion of Babel. Let men
learn this, and becoming children again, and in-
fants, not scorn to take ABC thereof in hand,
and in finding and searching out the interpreta-
tion of it, let them spare no labour, but let them
persist and go on, and even die in the quest of it.
Seeing, therefore, that in our Instauration we have
placed the Natural History (such as it is, in order
to our ends) in the third part of the w^ork, we
have thought fit to prevent this thing, and fall
upon it immediately. For, although in our Or-
wanon there are many things of especial conse-
quence to be finished, yet we think it fitting rather
to promote or set forward the general work of in-
stauration in many things, than to perfect it in a
few ; always desiring, with extreme fervency,
(such as we are confident God puts in the minds
of men,) to have that which was never yet at-
tempted, not to be now attempted in vain. Like-
wise, there came this thought into my mind,
namely, that there are questionless in Europe
many capable, free, sublimed, subtile, solid, con-
stant wits; and what if any one endued with
svich a wit do betake himself to the use and man-
ner of our Organon, and approve of it ? yet hath
he nothing to do, nor knows not how to address
himself to, or fit himself for philosophy. If it
were a thing which might be effected by reading
of philosophy books, disputation, or meditation,
that man (whosoever it be) might sufficiently
and abundantly perform it; but if we remit him,
as indeed we do, to natural history, and experi-
ments of arts, he is gravelled, or sticks in the
mire; it is not his intention, he hath no time, nor
will not be at the charge ; yet we must not desire
to have men cast off old things before they have
gotten new. But after a copious and faithful his-
tory of nature and arts is gathered and digested,
and, as it were, set and laid open before men's
eyes, there is no small hope that such great wits
as we have before spoken of, (such as have been
in ancient philosophers, and are at this day fre-
quent enough,) having been heretofore of such
efficacy, that they could, out of cork, or a little
shell, (namely, by thin and frivolous experience,)
build certain little boats for philosophy, gallant
enough for art and structure, how much more gal-
lant and solid structures will they make when
they have found a whole wood, and stuff enough ;
and that, though they had rather go on in the old
way, than make use of our Organon's way, which
(in our opinion) is either the only, or the best
way. So that the case stands thus : our Orga-
non (though perfect) could not profit much with-
out the Natural History ; but our Natural His-
tory, without the Organon, might much advance
instauration, or renewing of sciences. Where-
fore, we have thought it best and most advisedly
to fall upon this before any thing else. God, the
maker, preserver, and renewer of the universe,
guide and protect this work, both in its ascent to
his own glory, and in its descent to the good of
man, through his good will towards man, by his
only begotton Son, God with us !
THE RULE OF THIS PRESENT HISTORY.
Though we have set down, towards the end of
that part of our Organon which is come forth,
precepts concerning the Natural and Experiment-
al History, yet we have thought good to set
down mo're exactly and briefly the form and rule
of this history which we now take in hand. To
the titles comprehended in the catalogue, which
belong to the concretes, we have added the titles
of the abstract natures ; of which, as of a re-
served history, we made mention in the same
place. These are the various figurations of the
matter, or forms of the first class; simple mo-
tions, sums of motions, measures of motions,
«nd some other things: of these we have made
M new alphabet, and placed it at the end of this
volume. We have taken titles, (being no way
able to take them all,) not according to order, but
by choice; those, namely, the inquisition of
which either for use was most of weight, or for
abundance of experiments most convenient, or
for the obscurity of the thing most difficult and
noble, or, by reason of the discrepancy of titles
among themselves, most open to examples. In
each title, after a kind of an entrance or preface,
we presently propound certain particular topics
or articles of inquisition, as well to give light to
the present inquisition, as to encourage a future.
For we are master of questions, but not of things ;
yet we do not, in the history, precisely observe
the order of questions, lest that which is for an
aid and assistance should prove a hindrance.
The histories and experiments always hold
the first place; and if they set forth any enume-
ration and series of particular things, they are
made up in tables, or if otherwise, they are taken
up severally.
ENTRY INTO THE HISTORY OF WINDS.
437
Seeing that histories and exprrimonts do of-
tentimes fail us, especially those which [five
li<rht, and instances of the cross, by which the
iiiulerstanditi^ may be informed of the true
causes of things, we give precepts of new expo
riments, as far as we can see them fitting in our
mind, for that as is to be inquired; and these
precepts are designed like histories. For what
other means is left to us, who are the first that
come into this way 1 We unfold and make plain
the manner of some experiments that are more
quaint and subtile, that there may be no error,
•and that we may stir up others to find out better
and more exact ways. We interweave monitions
and cautions of the fallacies of things, and of such
errors and scruples as may be found in the inquiry,
that all fancies, and, as it were, apparitions, may
be frighted away, as by an exorcism or spell.
We join thereunto our observations upon his-
tory and experiments, that the interpretation of
the nature may be the readier.
We interpose some comments, or, as it were,
rudiments of the interpretations of causes, spar-
ingly, and rather supposing what may be, than
positively defining what is.
We prescribe and set down rules, but movable
ones, and, as it were, inchoated axioms which
offer themselves unto us as we inquire, not as we
decisorily pronounce, for they are profitable,
though not altogether true.
Never forgetting the profit of mankind, (though
the light be more worthy than those things which
be shown by it,) we offer to man's attention and
practice certain essays of practice, knowing that
men's stupidity is such, and so unhappy, that
sometimes they see not and pass over things
which lie just in their way.
We set down works and things impossible, or
at least which are not yet found out, as they fall
under each title; and withal those which are al-
ready found out, and are in men's power; and
we add to those impossible, and not yet found out
things, such as are next to them, and have most
affinity with them, that we may stir up and withal
encourage human industry. ,
It appears by the aforesaid things that this pre-
sent history doth not only supply the place of the
third part of the instauration, but also is not a de-
spicable preparation to the fourth, by reason of the
titles out of the alphabet and topics, and to the
sixth, by reason of the larger observations, com-
mentations, and rules.
THE
ENTRY INTO THE HISTORY OF WINDS.
The winds gave wings to men; for by their
assistance men are carried up through the air and
fly ; not through the air, indeed, but upon the sea ;
and a wide door is laid open to commerce, and the
world is made pervious. They are the besoms
which sweep and make clean the earth, which is
the seat and habitation of mankind, and they
cleanse both it and the air; but they make the sea
hurtful, which otherwise is harmless, neither are
they some other ways also free from doing hurt.
They are, without help of man, able to stir up
great and vehement motions, and like hirelings,
serve both to sail and grind, and would be useful
for many other things, if human care were not
wanting. Their natures are reckoned amongst
secret and hidden things. Neither is that to be
wondered at, seeing the nature and power of the
air is unknown, whom the winds do serve and
flatter, as Eolus doth Juno in the Poets. They
are not primary creatures, nor any of the six days'
works, no more than the rest of the meteors actu-
ally, but afterborn, by the order of the creation.
2o2
PARTICULAR TOPICS;
OK,
ARTICLES OF INQUISITION CONCERNING THE WINDS.
I The names of winda.
Describe or set down the winds according to
tlie seaman's industry; and give them names
either new or old, so^that you keep yourself con-
stant to them.
Winds are either general or precise, either pe-
culiar or free. I call them general which always
blow ; precise, those which blow at certain times ;
attendants or peculiar, those which blow most
commonly; free winds, those which blow indif-
ferently or at any time.
General winds.
2. Whether there be any general winds, which
are the very self-motion of the air ; and if there be
any such, in order to what motion, and in what
places they blow ]
Precise or fixed winds.
3. What winds are anniversary or yearly winds,
returning by turns ; and in what countries 1 Whe-
ther there be any wind so precisely fixed, that it
returns regularly at certain days and hours, like
unto the flowing of the sea 1
Attending or peculiar winds.
4. What winds are peculiar and ordinary in
countries, which observe a certain time in the
same countries; which are spring winds, and
which are summer winds ; which autumnal, which
brumal, which equinoctial, which solstitial ;
which are belonging to the morning, which to
noon, which to the evening, and which to the
night.
5. What winds are sea winds, and what winds
blow from the continent ? and mark and set down
the differences of the sea and land winds carefully,
as well of those which blow at land and sea, as
of those which blow from land and sea.
Free winds.
3. Whether winds do not blow from all parts
if heaven?
Winds do not vary much more in the parts of
heaven from which they blow, than in their own
qualities. Some are vehement, some mild, some
constant, some mutable; some hot, some cold,
some moistening and dissolving ; some drying and
astringent ; some gather clouds and are rainy,
and perad venture stormy; some disperse the clouds,
and are clear.
Divers qualities of winds.
7. Inquire, and give account, which are the
winds of all the forenamed sorts or kinds, and
how they vary, according to the regions and places.
There are three local beginnings of winds:
either they are thrown and cast down from above,
or they spring out of the earth, or they are made
up of the very body of the air.
Local beginnings of winds.
8. According to these three beginnings inquire
concerning winds; namely, which are thrown
down, out of that which they call the middle re-
gion of the air ; which breathe out of the con-
cavities of the earth, whether they break out
together ; or whether they breathe out of the earth
imperceivably, and scattering, and afterwards
gather together, like rivulets into a river. Finally,
which are scatteringly engendered from the swell-
ings and dilatations of the neighbouring air ?
Neither are the generations of the winds ori-
ginal only, for some there are also accidental,
namely, by the compression or restraints of the
air, and by the percussions and repercussions of it.
Accidental generations and productions of winds.
9. Inquire concerning these accidental genera-
tions of winds ; they are not properly generations
of winds ; for they rather increase and strengthen
winds, than produce and excite them.
Hitherto of the community of winds. There
are also certain rare and prodigious winds, such
as are called tempests, whirlwinds, and storms.
These are above ground. There are likewise
some that are subterraneal and under ground,
whereof some are vaporous and mercurial, they are
perceivable in mines; some are sulphurous, they
are sent out, getting an issue by earthquakes, or
do flame out of fiery mountains.
Extraordinary winds and sudden blasts.
10. Inquire concerning such rare and prodi-
gious winds, and of all miraculous and wonderful
things done by winds.
From the several sorts of winds, let th"? inqui-
438
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
439
sition pass to those things which contribute
towards the winds, (fc- ^e will so express it,
because the word efTicient signifies more, and the
word concomitant, less than we mean,) and to
iKose things which seem to raise, or to appease
the winds.
Tilings contributing or malting for the winds, and raising and
uppeaeing tliciii.
11. Inquire sparingly concerning astrological
considerations of winds, neither care thou for the
over-curious schemes of the heaven, only do not
neglect the more manifest observations of winds
rising, about the rising of some stars, or abont
the eclipses of the luminaries, or conjunctions of
planets ; nor much less on those which depend
on the courses of the sun and moon.
12. What meteors of several sorts do contri-
bute or make for winds, what the earthquakes,
what rain, what the skirmishing of winds, one
with another 1 forthese things are linked together,
and one draws on the other.
13. What the diversity of vapours and exhala-
tions contributes towards the winds ] and which
of them do most engender winds ? and how far
the nature of winds doth follow these its mate-
rials ?
11. What those things which are hereupon the
earth, or are there done do contribute towards the
winds ; what the hills and the dissolutions of
snow upon them; what those masses of ice
which swim upon the sea, and are carried to some
place ; what the diiferences of soil and land ; (so
it be of some large extent ;) what ponds, sands,
woods, and champion ground ; what those things
which we men do here, as burning of heath, and
the like, doth contribute to the manuring of land,
the firing of towns in time of war, the drying up
of ponds and lakes; the continual shooting off
of guns, the ringing of many bells together in
great cities, and the like 1 These things and acts
of ours are but as small straws, yet something
they may do.
15. Inquire concerning all manner of raisings,
or allaying of winds, but be sparing in fabulous
and superstitious causes.
From those things which make for the winds,
let the inquisition proceed to inquire of the
bounds of the winds, of their height, extension,
and continuance.
The bounds of winds.
IG. Inquire carefully of the height or elevation
of winds, and whether there be any tops of moun-
tains to which the winds do not reach ; or whether
clouds may be seen sometimes to stand still,
and not move, when the winds at the same time
blow strongly upon th ? earth.
17. Inquire diligently of the spaces or rooms
which the winds take up at once, and within what
bounds thev blew. As, for example, if the
south wind blew in such a place, whether it be
known certainly, that at the same time the north
wind blew ten miles off? And, contrariwise,
into how narrow and straight bounds the winds
may be reduced, so that winds may pass, as it
were, through channels, which seems to be done
in some whirlwinds.
18. Inquire for how long a time, very much,
ordinary, or little time, winds use to continue,
and then slack, and, as it were, expire and die.
Likewise, how the rising and beginning of winds
useth to be; what their languishing or cessation
is, whether suddenly, or by degrees, or how 1
From the bounds of the winds let your inqui-
sition pass over to the succession of winds, either
amongst themselves, or in respect of rain and
showers; for when they lead their rings, it were
pretty to know the order of their dancing.
Successions of winds.
19. Whether there be any more certain rule or
observation concerning the successions of winds
one to another, or whether it have any relation
to the motion of the sun, or otherwise; if it have
any, what manner of one it is?
20. Inquire concerning the succession and the
alteration, or taking turns of the winds and rain,
seeing it is ordinarily and often seen, that rain
lays the wind, and the wind doth disperse the
rain.
21. Whether, after a certain term and period
of years, the succession of winds begin anew;
and if it be so, what that period is, and how
long?
From the succession of the winds, let the in-
quisition pass to their motions ; and the motions
of the winds are comprehended in seven inqui-
sitions ; whereof three are contained in the former
articles, four remain as yet untouched. For, we
have inquired of the motion of winds divided
into the several regions of the heaven ; also, of
the motion upon three lines, upward, downward,
and laterally. Likewise, of the accidental mo-
tion of compressions or restraints. There remain
the fourth, of progressions or going forward; the
fifth, of undulation, or waving; the sixth, of
conflict or skirmish ; the seventh, in human
instruments and engines.
Divers motions of the winds.
22. Seeing progression is always from some
certain place or bound, inquire diligently, or as well
as thou canst, concerning the place of the first
beginning, and, as it were, the spring of any wind.
For winds seem to be like unto fame, for, though
they make a noise and run up and down, yet they
hide their heads amongst the clouds; so ia their
progress ; as, for example, if the vehement north-
ern wind which blew at York such a day, de
, blow at London two days after.
1 23. Omit not the inquisition of undulation o^
440
NATURAL HISTORY OF Wi.nJS.
winds. We call undulation of winds that motion
by which the wind, in or for a little space of
time, rises and abates, as the waves of the water ;
which turns may easily be apprehended by the
hearing of them in houses; and you must so
much the rather mark the differences of undula-
tion, or of furrowing between the water and the
air, because in the air and winds there wants the
motion of gravity or weight, wliich is a great part
of the cause of the waves rising in the water.
24. Inquire carefully concerning the conflict
and meeting of winds, which blow at one and
the same time : first, whether at the same time
there blow several original winds, (for we do not
speak of reverberated winds.) which, if it comes
to pass, wlrat windings they engender and bring
forth in their motion, and also what condensa-
tions, and alterations they produce in the body
of the air 1
25. Whether one wind blow above at the same
time as another blows here below with us ? For
it hath been observed by some, that sometimes
the clouds are carried one way, when the weather-
cock upon a steeple stands another. Also, that
the clouds have been driven by a strong gale,
when we, here below, have had a great calm.
26. Make an exact particular description of
the motion of the winds in driving on ships with
their sails.
27. Let there be a description made of the
motion of the winds in the sails of ships, and
the sails of windmills, in the flight of hawks
and birds ; also, in things that are ordinary, and
for sport, as of displayed colours, flying dragons,
duels with winds, &c.
From the motions of winds, let the inquisition
pass to the force and power of them.
Of the power of winds.
28. What winds do or can do concerning cur-
rents or tides of waters, in their keeping back,
putting forth, or inlets or overflowings.
29. What they do concerning plants and in-
sects, bringing in of locusts, blastings and mil-
dews.
30. What they effect concerning purging oi
clearing, and infecting of the air, in plagues, sick-
ness, and diseases of beasts.
31. What they effect concerningf the conveying
to us things (which we call) spiritual, as sounds,
rays, a/id the like.
From the powers of winds let the inquisition
pass to the prognostics of winds, not only for the
use of predictions, but because they lead us on
to the causes : for prognostics do either show h3
the preparations of things, before they be brought
into action; or the beginnings before they appeaf
to the sense.
Prognostics of winds.
32. Let all manner of good prognostics of winds
be carefully gathered together, (besides astrologi-
cal ones, of which we set down formerly how far
they are to be inquired after,) and let them either
be taken out of meteors, or waters, or instincts of
beasts, or any other way.
Lastly, close up the inquisition, with inquiring
after the imitations of winds, either in natural or
artificial things.
Imitations of winds.
33. Inquire of the imitations of winds in na-
tural things ; such as breaths enclosed within the
bodies of living creatures, and breaths within the
receptacles of distilling vessels.
Inquire concerning made gales, and artificial
winds, as bellows, refrigeratories, or coolers in
parlours, or dining-rooms, &c.
Let the heads or articles be such. Neither is
it unknown to me that it will be impossible to
answer to some of these according to the small
quantity of experience that we have. But, as in
civil causes, a good lawyer knows what interro-
gatories the cause requires to have witnesses exa-
mined upon; but what the witnesses can answer
he knows not. The same thing is incident to us
in natural history. Let those who came after us
endeavour for the rest.
THE HISTORY.
TTie Names of Winds.
To the first article.
Wk give names to winds rather as they are
numbered in their order and degrees than by their
own antiquity ; this we do for memory's and per-
spicuity's sake. But we add the old words also.
because of the asserting voices or opinions of old
authors; of which having taken (though with
somewhat a doubtful judgment) many things,
they will hardly be known, but under such names
as themselves have used. Let the general divi
sion be this: let cardinal winds be those which
blow from corners or angles of the world ; semi-
NA'IUR\L HISTORY OF WINDS.
441
tardinal, those wMcli blow in the h-alf-wards of
those; and mr-dian winds, those which blow be-
tween these half-wards: likewise of those which
blow betwixt th^se half-wards ; let those be called
major medians which blow in a quadrant or fourth
part of these divisions: the lesser medians are
all the re,st. Now the particular division is that
which follows :
Cardinal. North.
North iindhy e:ist.
Med. Miij. North-ruirlh-east, or aqiiilo.
North-cast, and by north, or meses.
Remicard. North-esot.
North-eJist and by east.
Med. Maj. Raat-north-eaet, or ciecias.
Knst and by north.
Cardinal. East, or stihsolanus.
• East by south.
Med. Maj. East-south-east, or vtilturnus.
South-east and by east.
Scmicard. Soulh-east.
South-east and by south.
Med. Maj. South-soutli-cast, or plitenicias.
South and by east.
Cardinal. South.
South and by west.
Med. Maj. South-south-west, or libonotus.
South-west and by south.
Setnicard. South-west, or libs.
South-west and by west.
Med. Maj. West-south-west, or africus.
West and by south.
Cardinal. West, or favonius.
West and by north.
Med. Maj. West-north-west, or corus.
North-west and by west.
Semicard. North-west
North-west and by north, or thrascias.
Med. Maj. North-north-west, or circius.
North and by west.
There are also other names of winds. Apeliotes,
the east wind, argestes, the south-west, olympias,
the north-west, scyron, the south-east, hcllespon-
tius, the east-north-east, for these we care not.
Let it suffice that we have jjiven constant and
fixed names of winds, according to the order and
disposition of the regions of the heavens : we do
not set much by the comments of authors, since
the authors themselves have little in them.
Free Winds.
To the sixth article.
1. There is not a retrion of the heaven from
whence the winds doth not blow. Yea, if you
divide the heaven into as many regions as there
be degrees in the horizon, you shall find winds
sometimes blowing from every one of them.
2. There are some whole countries where it
never rains, or, at least, very seldom; but there
is no country where the wind doth not blow, and
that frequently.
General IVinds,
To the second article.
1. Concerning general winds, experiments are
plain ; and it is no marvel, seeing that (especially
Vol. III.— 36
within the tropics) we may find places condemned
among the ancients.
It is certain, that to those who sail between
the tropics in a free and open sea, there blows a
constant and settled wind (which the seamen call
a breeze) from east to'*.'St. This wind is not of
so little force, but that, partly by its own blow-
ing, and partly by its guiding the current of the
sen, it hindereth seamen from coming back again
the same way they went to Peru.
2. In our seas in Kurope, when it is fair dry
wt>ather, and no particular winds stirring, there
blows a soft kind of gale from the east, which
foUoweth the sun.
3. Our common observations do admit that the
higher clouds are for the most part carried from
east to west; and that it is so likewise when
here below upon the earth, either there is a great
calm, or a contrary wind ; and if they do not
so always, it is because sometimes particular
winds blow aloft which overwhelm this general
wind.
A Caution. If there be any such general wind,
in order to the motion of the heaven, it is not so
firm nor strong but that it gives way to particular
winds. But it appears most plainly amongst the
tropics, by reason of the larger circles which it
makes. And, likewise, it is so when it blows on
high, for the same cause, and by reason of its free
course. Wherefore, if you will take it without
the tropics, and near the earth, (where it blows
most gently and slowly,) make trial of it in an
open and free air, in an extreme calm, and in
high places, and in a body which is very movable,
and in the afternoon, for at that time the particu-
lar eastern wind blows more sparingly.
Injunction. Observe diligently the vanes and
weathercocks upon the tops and towers of church-
es, whether, in extreme calms, they stand con-
tinually towards the west or not.
An indirect experiment.
4. It is certain, that here with us in Europe the
eastern wind is drying and sharp; the west wind,
contrariwise, moist and nourishing. May not
this be by reason that (it being granted that the
air moves from east to west) it must of necessity
be that the east wind, whose blast goeth the same
way, must needs disperse and attenuate the air,
whereby the air is made biting and dry; but the
western wind, which blows the contrary way,
turns the airs back upon itself, and thickens it,
whereby it becomes more dull, and, at length,
moist.
An indirect experiment.
5. Consider the inquisition of the motion ana
flowing of waters, whether they move from east
to west; for, if the two extremes, heaven and
waters, delight in this motion, the air which is
in the midst will go near to participate of tiia
same.
442
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
Caution. We call the two last experiments in-
direct, because they do directly show the thing
which we aim at but by consequence, which we
also gladly admit of when we want direct experi-
ments.
Injunction. That the breeze blows plentifully
between the tropics, is most certain ; the cause
is very ambiguous. The cause may be, because
the air moves according to the heaven; but with-
out the tropics almost imperceivahly, by reason
of the smaller circles which it makes; within the
tropics manifestly, because it makes bigger cir-
cles. Another cause may be, because all kind of
heat dilates and extends the air, and doth not suf-
fer it to be contained in its former place ; and by
the dilatation of the air, there must needs be an
impulsion of the contiguous air which produceth
this breeze as the sun goes forward ; and that is
more evident within the tropics, where the sun is
more scorching; without it, is hardly perceived.
And this seems to be an instance of the cross, or
a decisory instance. To clear this doubt you
may inquire, whether the breeze blow in the
night or no : for the wheeling of the air continues
also in the night, but the heat of the sun does not.
G. But it is most certain that the breeze doth
not blow in the night, but in the morning, and
when the morning is pretty well spent; yet that
instance doth not determine the question, whether
the nightly condensation of the air (especially in
those countries where the days and nights are not
more equal in their length than they are differing
in their heat and cold) may dull and confound
that natural motion of the air, which is but weak.
If the air participates of the motion of the
heaven, it does not only follow that the east wind
concurs with the motion of the air, and the west
wind strives against it; but also that the north
wind blows, as it were, from above, and the south
wind as from below here in our hemisphere,
where the antarctic pole is under ground, and the
arctic prole is elevated ! which hath likewise been
observed by the ancients, though staggeringly
and obscurely : but it agrees very well with our
modern experience, because tlie breeze (which
may be a motion of the air) is not a full east, but
a north-east wind.
Stayed or Certain Winds.
To the third article. Conn<aion.
As, in the inquisition of general winds, men
have suffered and been in darkness, so they have
been troubled with a vertigo or giddiness con-
cerning stayed and certain winds. Of the former,
they say nothing; of the latter, they talk up and
down at random. This is the more pardonable,
the thing being various; for these stayed winds
do change and alter according to the places where
they be : the same do not blow in Egypt, Greece,
and Italy. i
1. That there are stayed winds in some places,
the very name that is given them doth declare it,
as the other name of etesiaes means anniversary
or yearly winds.
2. The ancients attributed the cause of the
overflowing of Nilus to the blowing of the etesian
(that is to say, northern) winds at that time of the
year, which did hinder the river's running into the
sea, and turned the stream of it back.
3. There are currents in the sea which can
neither be attributed to the natural motion of the
ocean, nor to the running down from higher
places, nor the straitness of the opposite shores,
nor to promontories running out into the sea, but
are merely guided and governed by these stayed
winds.
4. Those who will not have Columbus to have
conceived such a strong opinion concerning the
West Indies by the relation of a Spanish pilot,
and much less believe that he might gather it out
of some obscure footsteps of the ancients, have
this refuge; that he might conjecture there was
some continent in the west by the certain and
stayed winds which blew from them towards the
shores of Lusitania or Portugal. A doubtful, and
not very probable thing, seeing that the voyage
of winds will hardly reach so large a distance.
In the mean time there is great honour due to this
inquisition, if the finding of this new world be
due to one of those axioms or observations,
whereof it comprehends many. .
5. Wheresoever are high and snowy mountains,
from thence blow stayed winds, until that time as
the snow be melted away.
6. I believe also that from great pools which
are full of water in the winter, there blow stayed
winds in those seasons, when as they begin to
dry up with the heat of the sun. But of tliis I
have no certainty.
7. Wheresoever vapours are engendered in
abundance, and that at certain times, be sure
that stayed winds will blow there at the same
times.
8. If stayed and certain winds blow anywhere,
and the cause cannot be found near at hand,
assure yourself that those certain winds are
strangers, and come from far.
9. It hath been observed, that stayed winds do
not blow in the night-time, but do rise about
three hours after sunrising. Surely such winds
are tired, as it were, with a long journey, that
they can scarcely break through the thickness of
the night air, but being stirred up again by the
rising of the sun, they go forward by little
and little.
10. All stayed winds (unless they blow from
some neighbouring places) are weak, and yield
unto sudden winds.
11. There are many stayed winds which are
not perceivable, and which we do not observe, by
reason of their weakness, whereby they are ovei-
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
448
thrown hy the free winds. Wherefore in the
winter they are hardly taken notice of, when the
free winds wander most: but are more observa-
ble in the summer, when those wandering winds
grow weak.
12. In Europe these are the chief stayed wind^
north winds from the solstice, and they are both
forerunners and followers of the dogstar. West
winds from the equinoctial in autumn, east winds
from the spring equinoctial; as for the winter
solstice, there is little heed to be taken of it, by
reason of the varietios.
13. The winds called ornithii, or bird winds,
had that name given them because they bring
birds out of cold regions beyond the sea, into
warm climates ; and they belong not to stayed
winds, because they for the most part keep no
punctual time: and this birds, they for the con-
venience of them, whether they come sooner or
later : and many times when they have begun to
blow a little, and turn, the birds being forsaken
by it, are drowned in the sea, and sometimes fall
into ships.
14. The returns of these certain or stayed winds
are not so precise at a day or an hour, as the flow-
ing of the sea is. Some authors do set down a
day, but it is rather by conjecture than any con-
stant observation.
Customary or Attending Winds.
Of the fourth and fifth articles. Connexion.
The word of attending wind is ours, and we
thought good to give it, that the observation con-
cerning them be not lost, nor confounded. The
meaning is this, divide the year if you please (in
what country soever you be) into three, four, or
five parts, and if any one certain wind blow, then
two, three, or four of those parts, and a contrary
wind but one; we call that wind which blows
most frequently the customary, or attending wind
of that country, and likewise of the times.
1. The south and north winds are attendants
of the world, for they, with those which are within
their sections or divisions, blow oftener overall the
world, than either the east or the west.
2. All the free winds (not the customary) are
more attendant in the winter than in the summer;
but most of all in the autumn and spring.
3. All free winds are attendants rather in the
countries without the tropics, and about the polar
circles, than within : for in frozen and in torrid
countries, for the most part they blow more spar-
ingly, in the middle regions they are more fre-
quent.
4. Also all free winds, especially the strongest
and i/iost forcible of them, do blow oftener and
more strongly, morning and evening, than at noon
and night.
5. Free winds blow frequently in hollow places,
and where there be oaves, than in solid and firm
ground.
Injunction. Human diligence hath almost
ceased apd stood still in the observation of attend-
ing winds in particular places, which, notwith-
standing, should not have been, that observation
being profitable for many things. I remember,
I asked a certain merchant, (a wise and discreet
man,) who had made a plantation in Greenland,
and had wintered there, why that country was so
extreme cold, seeing it stood in a reasonable tem-
perate climate. He said, it was not so great as it
was reported ; but that the cause was twofold :
One was, that the masses and heaps of ice which
came out of the vScythian sea were carried thither.
The other (which he also thought to be the better
reason) was because the west wind there blows
many parts of the year, more than the east wind ;
as also (said he) it doth with us; but there it
blows from the continent, and cold, but with us
from the sea, and warmish. And (said he) if the
east wind should blow here in England so often
and constantly as the west wind does there, we
should have far colder weather, even equal to that
as is there.
6. The west winds are attendants of the pome-
ridian or afternoon hours : for, towards the de-
clining of the sun, the winds blow oftener from
the east than from the west.
7. The south wind is attendant on the night;
for it rises and blows more strongly in the night,
and the north wind in the daytime.
8. But there are many and great diiferences
between winds which are attendant on the sea,
and those which are attendant upon the land.
That is one of the chief which gave Columbus
occasion to find out the new world ; namely, that
sea winds are not stayed, but land winds are : for
the sea abounding in vapours, which are indiffer-
ently everywhere, winds are also engendered in-
differently everywhere, and with great inconstancy
are carried here and there, having no certain begin-
nings nor sources. But the earth is much unlike
for the begetting of winds: some places are more
efficacious to engender and increase winds, some
less : wherefore they stand most from that part
where they hif^e their nourishment, and take their
rise from thence.
9. Acosta is unconstant in his own position.
He saith that at Peru, and the sea coasts of the
south sea, south winds do blow almost the whole
year: and he saith in another place, that upon
those coasts sea winds do blow chiefliest. But the
south wind to them is a land wind, as likewise
the north and east wind also, and the west wind
is their only sea wind. We must take that which
he sets down more certainly ; namely, that ttte
south wind is an attending and familiar wind of
those countries: unless, peradventure, in the name
of the south sea he hath corrupted his meaning, o/
his speech, meaning the west by the south, vvhicji
blows from the south sea. But the sea which
they call the south sea is not properly the souiJ*
444
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
Kea ; but as a second western ocean, bein jr stretched
out in the like situation as the Atlantic ^ea is.
10. Sea winds are questionless more moist than
land winds, but yet they are more pure, and will
easilier, and with more equality be incorporated
with the pure air. For terrestrial winds are ill
composed, and smoky. Neither let any one ob-
ject, that they ought to be grosser by reason of the
saltness of the sea. For the nature of terrestrial
salt doth not rise in vapours.
11. Sea winds are lukewarm or cold, by reason
of the two foresaid qualities, humidity and pure-
ness. For by humidity they mitigate the colds,
(for dryness increaseth both heat and cold,) and
with their pureness they cool. Therefore without
the tropics they are lukewarm, within the tropics
they are cold.
12. I believe that sea winds are everywhere
attendant upon particular countries, especially
such as stand upon the sea-coasts: that is to say,
winds blow more frequently from that side where
the sea is, by reason of the greater plenty of mat-
ter which winds have in the sea, than in the land ;
unless there be some firm wind blowing from the
land, for some peculiar reason. But let no man
confound firm or stayed winds with attendant
winds : the attendants being always more fre-
quent; but the stayed ones for the most part
blowing more seldom. But that is common to
them both, namely, to blow from that place from
which they receive their nourishment.
13. Sea winds are commonly more vehement
than land winds : yet when they cease, the sea is
calmer from the shores than near unto them ; inso-
much that mariners, to avoid calms, will some-
times coast along the shore, rather than launch
into the deep.
14. Winds which are called tropei, that is to
say, retorted, namely, such as, when they have
blown a little way, suddenly turn again, such
winds I say blow from the sea towards the shore :
but retorted winds and whirlwinds are most com-
monly in gulfs of seas.
15. Some small gales blow for the most part
about all great waters, and they a*e most felt in a
morning; but more about rivers than at sea, be-
cause of the difference which is between a land
gale and a water gale.
16. In places which are near the sea, trees bow
and bend, as shunning the sea air: but that comes
not through any averseness to them ; but sea
winds, by reason of their humidity and thickness,
are as it were more heavy and ponderous.
The Qualities and Powers of Winds.
To the seventh, twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth, thirtieth, and
thirty-first articles. Connexion.
Concerning the qualities and powers of winds,
men have made careless and various observations :
we will cull out the most certain, and the rest, as
too light, wo will leave to the winds themselves.
1. With us the south wind is rainy, and tlio
northern wind clear and fair, the one gathers tc>
gether and nourishes the clouds ; the other scat-
ters and casts them off. Wherefore Ihe poets,
when they speak of the deluge, feign the northern
^vind at that time to be shut up in prison, and the
south wind to be sent out with very large com-
mission.
2. The west wind hath with us been held to be
the wind which blew in the golden age, the com-
panion of a perpetual spring, and a cherisher of
flowers.
3. Paracelsus his scholars, when they sought
for a place for their three principles in Juno's
temple also, which is the air, placed three, but
found no place for the east wind.
They Mercury ascribe to the south winds.
To the rich western tilasts the sulphur mines.
And rugged Boreas' blasts the sad salt finds.
4. But with us in England the east wind is
thought to be mischievous, so that it goes for a
proverb, " that when the wind is in the east, it is
neither good for man nor beast."
5. The south wind blows from the presence of
the sun, the north from the absence in our hemis-
phere. The east wind in order to the motion of
the air, the west wind from the sea, the east wind
from the continent, most commonly in P^urope
and the western parts of Asia. These are the
most radical and essential differences of winds;
from which truly and really depend most of the
qualities and powers of the winds.
6. The south wind is not so anniversary or
yearly, nor so stayed as the northern wind is, but
more wandering and free; and when it is stayed,
it is so soft and mild that it can scarcely be per-
ceived.
7. The south wind is lower, and more lateral,
and blowing of one side ; the northern wind is
higher and blows from above; we do not mean
the polar elevation and depression of which we
have spoken formerly ; but because the north
wind for. the most part hath its beginnings higher,
and the south wind for the most part nearer to us.
8. The south wind to us is rain, (as we said
before,) but in Africa it causes clear weather, but
bringing great heat along with it, and not cold, as
some have affirmed. In Africa it is pretty health-
ful, but to us, if the south wind last long with
fair weather and without rain, it is very pestilent.
9. The south winds and west winds do not
engender vapours, but they blow from those
coasts where there is great store of them, by
reason of the increase of the sun's heat, which
draws forth the vapours, and therefore they are
rainy. But if they blow from dry places, which
have no vapours in them, they are fair. But.
notwithstanding, sometimes they are pure and
sometimes turbulent.
10. The south and west winds here with us,
seem to be confederate, and are warm and moist,
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
445
and on the otlier side the north and east winds
have some affinity between them, being cold and
dry.
11. Tlie north and south winds (whereof we
have also spoken before) do blow oftener than
the east and west winds, because there is a great
inequality of vapours in those parts, by reason
of the absence and presence of the sun, but to
the east and to the west the sun is, as it were,
indifferent.
12. The south wind is very healthful when it
comes from the sea, but when it blows from the
continent it is more unhealthful ; and so, contra-
riwise, the north wind is suspicious blowing
from the sea, from the continent it is healthful.
Likewise, the south sea wind is very agreeable
with plants and fruits, killing their cankers, or
rusts, and other hurtful annoyances.
13. A gentle south wind doth assemble and
gather together clouds much, especially if it con-
tinue but a short while; but if it blow too bois-
terously, or long, it clouds the sky and brings in
rain. But especially when it ceases or grows
remiss, more than in its beginning, and when it
is in its chiefest vigour.
14. When the south wind either begins to blow
or ceases, for the most part there are changes of
weather, from fair to cloudy, and from hot to cold,
and contrariwise. The north wind many times
rises and ceases, the former weather remaining
and continuing.
15. After hoary frosts and long continued
snow, there scarcely blows any other wind than
a south wind, there being, as it were, a concoc-
tion or digestion made of cold, which then at last
dissolves; neither doth rain also follow; but this
likewise happens in changes or intervals of" fair
weather.
16. The south wind rises oftener and blows
stronger in the night than in the day, especially
in winter nights. " But the north wind, if it rise
in the night, (which is contrary to its custom,) it
doth usually last above three days.
17. When the south wind blows, the waves
swell higher than when the north wind blows,
thougli it blows with an equal or lesser force.
18. The south wind blowing, the sea becomes
blue and more bright than when the north wind
blows, which causes it to look darker and blacker.
19. When the air becomes warmer on a sud-
den, it sometimes betokens rain; and, again, at
other times, when on a sudden it grows colder, it
likewise betokens rain. But this happens ac-
cording to the nature of the winds; for if the air
grow warm whilst the south or east wind blows,
there is rain at hand, and likewise when it grows
cold during the northern or western blasts.
20. The south wind blows for tiie most part
entire and alone. But the north wind blowing,
especinlly the east-north-east, or the north-west,
oftentimes contrary and various, or divers winds
blow together, whereby ihpy are broken and dis-
turbed.
21. Beware of a northern wind when you sow
seed, neither would I wish any one to inoculatfl
or graft in a southern wind.
22. Leaves fall from trees soonest on the south
side, but vine sprouts or stalks bud forth, and
grow most that way.
23. In large pasture, shepherds must take care
i (as Pliny saith) to bring their flocks to the north
side, that they may feed against the south. For,
j if th(;y feed towards the north, they grow lame
' and blear-eyed, and distempered in their bellies.
! The northern wind, also, doth so weaken their
coupling, that if they couple looking that way,
; they will for the most part bring forth ewe-lambs.
But Pliny doth not stand very stiffly to this
opinion, having, as it were, taken it up upon
trust and borrowed it.
24. Winds are hurtful to wheat and all manner
of grain at three times, namely, at the opening
and at the falling of the flower, and when the
grain itself is ripe, for then they blow the corn
out of the ear, and, at the other two times,
either they blast the flower or blow it off.
25. W^hile the south wind blows, men's breath
grows ranker, all creatures' appetites decay, pes-
tilent diseases reign, men wax more slow and
dull. But when the wind is northwardly, men
are more lively, healthful, and greedy after food.
Yet the northern wind is hurtful for them that are
troubled with the phthisick, cough, gout, or any
other sharp defluxions.
26. An east wind is dry, piercing, and mor-
tifying. The west wind moist, meek, and nou-
rishing.
27. If the east wind blow when the spring is
any thing forward, it is hurtful to fruits, bringing
in of worms and caterpillars, so that the leaves
are hardly spared : neither is it very good to
grain. Contrariwise, the west wind is very pro-
pitious and friendly to herbs, flowers, and all
manner of vegetables. And so is the east wind
too about the autumnal equinox.
28. Western winds are more vehement than
eastern winds, and bow and bend trees more.
29. Rainy weather, which begins when the
east wind blows, doth last longer than that which
begins when a west wind blows, and may perad-
venture hold out for a whole day.
30. The east and north wind, when they orce
begin to blow, blow more constantly; the south
and west wind are more mutable.
31. In an eastern wind all visible things do ap-
pear bigger; but in a western wind all audible
things are heard further, as sounds of bells and
the like.
32. The east-north-east wind draws clouds to
it. It is a proverb amongst the Greeks t- "om-
pare it to usurers, who by laying out m
swallow it up. It is a vehement and 1;
2P
446
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
which cannot remove clouds so fast, as they will
turn back and press upon it. Which is likewise
seen in great fires, which grow stronger against
the wind.
33. Cardinal or semicardinal winds are not
so stormy as the median.
34. Median winds from north to north-east are
more fair, from north-east to east more stormy.
Likewise from east to south-east more fair, from
south-east to south more stormy. Likewise from
south to south-west more fair, from south-west to
west more stormy. Likewise from west to north-
west more fair; from north-west to north more
stormy. So that, proceeding according to the
order of the heavens, the median winds of the
first halfward are always disposed to fair weather,
those of the latter halfwatd to storms and tem-
pests.
35. Thunders and lightnings, and storms, with
falling of broken clouds are, when such cold
winds as participate of the north do blow, as the
north-west, north-north-west, north-north-east,
north-east, and east north-east. Wherefore those
thunders likely are accompanied with hail.
36. Likewise snowy winds come from the
north, but it is from those median winds which
are not stormy, as the north-west, and north-east,
and by north.
37. Winds gain their natures and properties
five ways only : either by the absence or presence
of the sun; or by agreeing or disagreeing with
the natural motion of the air; or by the diversity
of the matter which feedeth them, by which they
are engendered ; as sea, snow, marishes, or the
like; or by the tincture of the countries through
which they pass ; or by their original local begin-
nings : on high, under ground, in the middle; all
which things the ensuing articles will better de-
clare and explain.
38. All winds have a power to dry, yea, more
than the sun itself, because the sun draws out the
vapours ; but if it be not very fervent, it doth not
disperse them; but the wind both draws them
out, and carries them away. But the south wind
doth this least of any ; and both timber and stones
sweat more when the south wind blows a little,
than when it is calm and lies still.
39. March winds are far more drying than sum-
mer winds ; insomuch that such as make musical
instruments will stay for March winds to dry their
stuff they make their instruments of, to make it
more porous, and better sounding.
40. All manner of winds purge the air, and
cleanse it from all putrefaction, so that such years
as are most windy, are most healthful.
4L The sun is like to princes, who sometimes
having appointed deputies in some remote coun-
tries, the subjects there are more obsequious to
those deputies, and yield them more respect than
10 the prince himself. And so the winds which
have their power and origin from the sun, do
govern the temperatures of the countries, and the
disposition of the air, as much or more than the
sun itself. Insomuch that Peru ^which, by
reason of the nearness of the ocean, the vastness
of rivers, and exceeding great and high hills,
hath abundance of winds and blasts blowing
there) may contend with Europe for a temperate
and sweet air.
42. It is no wonder if the force and power of
winds be so great, as it is found to be ; vehement
winds being as inundations, torrents, and flow-
ing of the spacious air, neither (if we attentively
heed it) is their power any great matter. They
can throw down trees, which, with their tops,
like unto spread sails, give them advantage to do
it, and are a burden to themselves. Likewise
they can blow down weak buildings ; strong and
firm, ones they cannot, without earthquakes join
with them. Sometimes they will blow all the
snow off the tops of hills, burying the valley
that is below them with it; as it befel Solomon
in the Sultanian fields. They will also, some-
times, drive in waters, and cause great inunda-
tions.
43. Sometimes winds will dry up rivers, and
leave the channels bare. For if, after a great
drought, a strong wind blows with the current
for many days, so that it, as it were, sweeps away
the water of the river into the sea, and keeps the
sea water from coming in, the river will dry up
in many places where it doth not use to be so.
Monition. Turn the poles, and, withal, turn
the observations as concerning the north and
south. For, the presence and absence of the sun
being the cause, it must vary according to the
poles. But this may be a constant thing, that
there is more sea towards the south, and more
land towards the north, which doth not a little
help the winds.
Monition. Winds are made or engendered a
thousand ways, as by the subsequent inquisition
it will appear ; so, to fix that observation in a thing
so various, is not very easy. Yet, those thinsfs
which we have set down are, for the most part,
most certain.
Local Beginnings of Winds.
To the eighth article. Connexion.
To know the local beginnings of winds, is a
thing which requires a deep search and inquisi-
tion, seeing that the whence and whither of
winds are things noted even in the Scripture, lo
be abstruse and hidden. Neither do we now
speak of the fountains or beginnings of particu-
lar winds, (of which more shall be said hereafter,)
but of the matrixes of winds in general. Some
fetch them from above, some search for them in
the deep : but, in the middle, (where they are foi
the most part engendered,) nobody hardly looks
for them : such is the custom of men to inquire
after things which are obscure, and omit those
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
447
thinffs which lie, as it were, in their way.
This is certain, that winds are either inbred or
strantrers; for winds are, as it were, merchants of
vapours, which hoii\g by them gathered into
clouds, they curry out and bring in again into
countries, from whence winds are again returned,
as it were, by exchange. But let us now inquire
concerning native winds, for those which, coming
from another place, are strangers, are in another
place natives. There are three local begiimings
of them : they either breatlie, or spring out of the
ground, or are cast down from above, or are here
made up in the body of the air. Those which are
cast down from above, are of a double generation ;
for they are either cast down before they be form-
ed into clouds, or afterwards composed of rarefied
and dispersed clouds. Let us now see what is
the history of these things.
1. The poets feigned Eolus his kingdom to be
placed under ground in dens and caves, where
the winds' prison was, out of which they were at
times let forth.
2. Some philosophical divines, moved by those
words of Scripture, " He brings forth the winds
out of his treasures," think that the winds come
out of some treasuries; namely, places under
ground, amongst the mines of minerals. But
this is nothing; for the Scripture speaketh like-
wise of the treasures of snow and hail, which,
doul)tloss, are engendered above.
3. Questionless, in subterraneal places there
is great store of air, which it is very likely some-
times breathes out by little and little, and some-
times, again, upon urgent causes, must needs
come rushing forth together.
An indirect experiment.
In great droughts, and in the middle of sum-
mer, when the ground is cleft and chopped, there
breaks out water many times in dry and sandy
places ; which, if waters (being a gross body)
do, though it be but seldom, it is probable that
the air (which is a subtile and tenuous body) may
often do it.
4. If the air breathes out of the earth by little
and little, and scatteringly, it is little perceived
at the first; but when many of those small ema-
nations, or comings out, are come together, there
is a wind produced, as a river out of several
springs. And this seems to be so, because it hath
been observed by the ancients, that many winds,
in those places where they begin, do at first blow
but softly, which afterward grow stronger and
increase in their progress like unto rivers.
5. There are some places in the sea, and some
lakes also, which swell extremely when there is ;
no wind stirring, which apparently proceeds from i
some subterraneal wind.
6. There is great quantity of subterraneal spi-
rit required to shake or cleave the earth ; less will
servo turn fo"- the raising of water. Wherefore
I earthquakes come but seldom, risings and swell-
ings of waters are more frequent.
I 7. Likewise it is everywhere taken notice of
! that waters do somewhat swell and rise before
tempests.
8. The weak subterraneal spirit which is
j breathed out scatteringly is not perceived upon
the earth until it be gathered into wind, by reascn
the earth is full of pores ; but when it issues from
under the water, it is presently perceived (by
reason of the water's continuity) by some manner
of swelling.
9. We resolved before that in cavernous and
denny places there were attendant winds; inso-
much that those winds seem to have their local
beginnings out of the earth.
10. In great and rocky hills winds are found
to breathe sooner, (namely, before they be per-
ceived in the valleys,) and more frequently,
(namely, when it is calm weather in the valleys,)
but all mountains and rocks are cavernous and
hollow.
11. In Wales, in the county of Denbigh, a
mountainous and rocky country, out of certain
caves (as Gilbertus relateth) are such vehement
eruptions of wind, that clothes or linen laid out
there upon any occasion, are blown up, and carried
a great way up into the air.
12. In Aber Barry, near Severn in Wales, in
a rocky cliff, are certain holes, to which if you
lay your ear, you shall hear divers sounds and
murmurs of winds under ground.
An indirect experiment.
Acosta hath observed that the towns of Pb.ta
and Potosi, in Peru, are not far distant one from
the other, and both situated upon a high and hilly
ground, so that they differ not in that; and yet
Potosi hath a cold and winter-like air, and Plata
hath a mild and spring-like temperature, which
difference it seems may be attributed to the silver
mines which are near Potosi ; which showeth
that there are breathing-places of the earth, as in
relation to hot and cold.
13. If the earth be the first cold thing, accord-
ing to Parmenides, (whose opinion is not con-
temptible, seeing cold and density are knit toge-
ther by a strict knot,) it is no less probable that
there are hotter breaths sent out from the central
cold of the earth than are cast down from the cold
of the higher air.
14. There are certain wells in Dalmatia, and
the country of Cyrene, (as some of the ancients
record,) into which if you cast a stone, there will
presently arise tempests, as if the stone had
broken some covering of a place, in which the
force of the winds was enclosed.
An indirect experiment.
JEtna and divers other mountains cast out
fire; therefore it is likely that air ijiay likewise
448
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
break forth, especially being dilatated and set into
motion by heat in subterraneal places.
15. It hath been noted, that both before and
after earthquakes there hath blown certain noxious
and foreign winds; as there are certain little
smothers usually before and after great firings
and burnings.
Monition. The air shut up in the earth is forced
to break out for several causes : sometimes a mass
of earth, ill joined together, falls into a hollow
place of the earth; sometimes waters do ingulf
themselves; sometimes the air is extended by
subterraneal heats, and seeks for more room :
sometimes the earth, which before was solid and
vaulted, being by fires turned into ashes, no longer
able to bear itself up, falls. And many such like
causes.
And so these inquisitions have been made con-
cerning the first local beginning of winds. Now
followeth the second origin, or beginning from
above, namely, from that which they call the
middle region of the air.
Monition. But let no man understand what
hath been spoken so far amiss, as if we should
deny the rest of the winds also are brought forth
of the earth by vapours. But this first kind was
of winds which come forth of the earth, being
already perfectly framed winds.
16. It hath been observed, that there is a mur-
muring of woods before we do plainly perceive
the winds, whereby it is conjectured that the wind
descends from a higher place, which is likewise
observed in hills, (as we said before,) but the
cause is more ambiguous, by reason of the con-
cavity and hollowness of the hills.
17. Wind follows darted, or (as we call them)
shooting stars, and it comes that way as the star
hath shot; whereby it appears that the air hath
been moved above, before the motion comes to us.
18. The opening of the firmament and disper-
sion of clouds, are prognostics of wind before
they blow here on earth, which also shows that
the winds begin above.
19. Small stars are not seen before the rising
of winds, though the night be clear and fair; be-
cause (it should seem) the air grows thick, and
is less transparent, by reason of that matter which
afterward is turned into wind.
20. There appear circles about the body of the
moon, the sun looks sometimes blood-red at its-
setting, the moon rises red at her fourth rising:
ard there are many more prognostics of winds on
high, (whereof we will speak in its proper place,)
v^hich sliows that the matter of the winds is
there begun and prepared.
•Z\. In these experiments you must note that
difference we speak of, namely, of the twofold
generation of winds on high ; that is to say, be-
fore the gathering together of vapours into a cloud,
and after. For the prognostics of circles about,
and colours af the sun and moon, have something
of the cloud; but that darting and occultation of
the lesser stars is in fair and clear weather.
22. When the wind comes out of a cloud ready
formed, either the cloud is totally dispersed, and
turned into wind, or it is torn and rent in sunder,
and the winds break out, as in a storm.
23. There are many indirect experiments in
the world concerning the repercussion by cold.
So that, it being certain that there are most ex-
treme colds in the middle region of the air, it is
likewise plain that vapours, for the most part,
cannot break through that place without being
joined and gathered together, or darted, according
to the opinion of the ancients, which in this par-
ticular is true and sound.
The third local beginning of winds is of those
which are engendered here in the lower part of
the air, which we also call swellings or overbur-
denings of the air; a thing very familiar and
frequent, yet passed over with silence.
Jl Commentation. The generation of those winds
which are made up in this lower part of the air,
is a thing no more obscure than this : namely,
that the air newly composed and made up of
water, and attenuated and dissolved vapours, join-
ed with the first air, cannot be contained within
the same bounds as it was before, but grovveth
out and is turned, and takes up further room.
Yet there are in this two things to be granted :
First, that one drop of water turned into air,
(whatsoever they fabulously speak of the tenth
proportion of the elements,) requires at least a
hundred times more room than it had before.
Secondly, that a little new air, and moved, added
to the old air, shaketh the whole, and sets it into
motion ; as we may perceive by a little wind that
comes forth of a pair of bellows, or in at a little
crevice of a window or wall, that will set all the
air which is in a room in motion, as appears by
the blazing of the lights which are in the same
room.
24. As the dews and mists are engendered
here in the lower air, never coming to be clouds,
nor penetrating to the middle region of the air:
in the like manner are also many winds.
25. A continual gale blows about the sea, and
other waters, which is nothing but a small wind
newly made up.
2G. The rainbow, which is, as it were, the
lowest of meteors, and nearest to us, when it
doth not appear whole, but curtailed, and, as it
were, only some pieces of the horns of it, is dis-
solved into winds, as often, or rather oftener than
into rain.
27. It hath been observed, that there are some
winds in countries which are divided and separated
by hills, which ordinarily blow on the one side
of the hills, and do not reach to the other, whereby
it manifestly appears that they are engendered
below the height of the said hills.
28. There are an infinite sort of winds that
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
449
blow in fiiir and clear days, and also in countries
wlu^re it never rains, wliicli are engendered where
they l>low, and never were clouds, nor did ever
ascend in the middle region of the air.
Indirect experimentii.
Whosoever shall know how easily a vapour is
dissolved into air, and how great a quantity of
vapours there are, and how much room a drop of
water turned into air takes up more than it did
before, (as we said already,) and how little the
air will endure to be thrust up together, will,
questionless, airirin, that of necessity winds must
he everywhere engendered, from the very super-
ficies of the earth, even to the highest parts of the
air. For it cannot be, that a great abundance of
vapours, when they begin to be dilatated and ex-
panded, can be lifted up to the middle region of
the air, without an overburdening of the air, and
making a noise by the way.
Accidental Generations nf Winds.
To the ninth article. Connexion.
We call those accidental generations of winds
which do not make or beget the impulsive mo-
tion of winds, but with compression do sharpen
it, by repercussion turn it, by sinuation or wind-
ing do agitate and tumble it, which is done by
extrinsical causes, and the posture of the adjoin-
ing bodies.
1. In places where there are hills which are
not very high, bordering upon valleys, and beyond
them again higher hills, there is a greater agita-
tion of the air, and sense of winds, than there is
in mountainous or plain places.
2. In cities, if there be any place somewhat
broader than ordinary and narrow goings out, as
portals or porches, and cross streets, winds and
fresh gales are there to be perceived.
3. In houses cool rooms are made by winds, or
happen to be so where the air bloweth through,
and comes in on the one side and goeth out at the
other. But much more if the air comes in several
ways and meets in the corners, and hath one
common passage from thence: the vaulting like-
wise and roundness doth contribute much to cool-
ness, because the air, being moved, is beaten back
in every line. Also, the winding of porches is
better than if they were built straight out. For a
direct blast, though it be not shut up, but hath a
tree ecrress, doth not make the air so unequal and
voluminous, and waving, as the meeting at angles
and hollow places, and windings round, and the
like.
4. After jjreat tempests at sea an accidental
wind contiinies for a time, after the original is
I iid, which wind is made by the collision and
DHrcussion of the air, through the curling of the
waves.
5. In gardens commonly there is a repercussion
Vol 111—57
of wind, from the walls and banks, 80 that one
would imagine the wind to come the contrary
way from that wlience it really comes.
G. If hills enclose a country on the one side,
and the wind blows for some space of time from
the plain against the hill, by the very repercus-
sion of the hill, either the wind is turned into rain,
if it be a moist wind, or into a contrary wind,
which will last but a little while.
7. In the turnings of a promontory, mariners do
often find changes and alterations of winds.
Extraordinary Winds and sudden Blasts.
To the tenth article. Connexion.
Some men discourse of extraordinary winds,
and derive the causes of them; of clouds break-
ing, or storms, vorlice, typhone, ])rest.ere; or, in
English, whirlwinds. But they do not relate the
thing itself, which must be taken out of chroni-
cles and several histories.
1. Sudden blasts never come in clear weather,
but always when the sky is cloudy and the wea-
ther rainy. That it may justly be thought thav
there is a certain eruption made; the blasts driven
out and the waters shaken.
2. Storms which come with a mist and a fog,
and are called Belluae, and bear up themselves
like a column, are very vehement and dreadful to
those who are at sea.
3. The greater typhones, Who will take up at
some large distance, and sup them, as it were,
upward, do happen hut seldom, but small whirl-
winds come often.
4. All storms and typhones, and great whirl-
winds, have a manifest precipitous motion or dart-
ing downwards, more than other winds, so as they
seem to fall like torrents, and run, as it were, in
channels, and be afterwards reverberated by the
earth.
5. In meadows, haycocks are sometimes carried
on high and spread abroad there like canopies ;
likewise in fields, cocks of pease, reaped wheat,
and clothes laid out to drying, are carried up by
whirlwinds as high as tops of trees and houses,
and these things are done without any extraordi-
nary force or great vehemency of wind.
6. Also, sometimes there are very small whirl-
winds, and within a narrow compass, which happen
also in fair, clear weather; so that one that rides
may see the dust or straws taken up and turned
close by him, yet he himself not feel the wind
much, which things are done questionless near
unto us, by contrary blasts driving one another
back, and causing a circulation of the air by con-
cussion.
7. It is certain, that some winds do leave mani-
fest signs of burning and scorching in plants; bui
presterem, which is a kind of dark lightning, and
hot air without any flame, we will put off to lb"
inquisition of lightning.
2p2
450
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
Helps to Winds ; namely, to Original Winds ; for
of accidental ones we have inquired before.
To the eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, ami fifteenth
articles. Connexion.
Those things which have been spoken by the
ancients, concerning winds and their causes, are
merely confused and uncertain, and for the most
part untrue; and it is no marvel, if they see not
clear that look not near. They speak as if wind
were somewhat else, or a thing several from
moved air; and as if exhalations did generate and
make up the whole body of the winds; and as if
the matter of winds were only a dry and hot
exhalation; and as if the beginning of the molion
of winds were but only a casting down and per-
cussion by the cold of the middle region, all fan-
tastical and arbitrary opinions; yet out of such
threads they weave long pieces, namely, cobwebs.
But all impulsion of the air is wind ; and exhala-
tions mixed with the air contribute more to the
motion than to the matter ; and moist vapours, by
a proportionate heat, are easier dissolved into
wind than dry exhalations, and many winds are
engendered in the lowest region of the air, and
breathe out of the earth, besides those which are
thrown down and beaten back.
1. The natural wheeling of the air, (as we
said in the article of general winds,) without any
other external cause, bringing forth winds per-
ceptible within the tropics, where the conversion
is in greater circles.
2. Next to the natural motion of the air, be-
fore we inquire of the sun, (who is the chief
begetter of winds,) let us see whether any thing
ought to be attributed to the moon, and other
asters, by clear experience.
3. There arise many great and strong winds
some hours before the eclipse of the moon; so
that, if the moon be eclipsed in the middle of
the night, the winds blow the precedent evening ;
if the moon be eclipsed towards the morning,
then the winds blow in the middle of the prece-
dent night.
4. In Peru, which is a very windy country,
Acosta observes, that winds blow most when the
moon is at the full.
Injunction. It were certainly a thing worthy
to be observed, what power the ages and motions
of the moon have upon the winds, seeing thej
have some power over the waters. As, for ex-
ample, whether the winds be not in a greater
commotion in full and new moons, than in her
first and last quarters, as we find it to be in the
llowings of waters. For, though some do conve-
niently feign the command of the moon to be
over the waters, as the sun and planets over the
air, yet it 1= certain, that the water and the air
aie very homogeneal bodies, and that the moon,
next to the sun, hath most power over all things
here below.
5. It hath been observed by men, that about the
conjunctions of planets greater winds do blow.
6. At the rising of Orion there rise commonly
divers winds and storms. But we must advise
whether this be not because Orion rises in such
a season of the year as is most effectual for the
generation of winds ; so that it is rather a con
comitant than causing thing. Which may also
very well be questioned concerning rain at the
rising of the Hyades and the Pleiades, and con-
cerning storms at the rising of Arcturus. And
so much concerning the moon and stars.
7. The sun is, questionless, the primary effi-
cient of many winds, working by its heat on a
twofold matter, namely, the body of the air, and
likewise vapours and exhalations.
8. When the sun is most powerful, it dilatates
and extends the air, though it be pure and with-
out any commixion, one-third part, which is no
small matter ; so that, by mere dilatation, there
must needs arise some small wind in the sun's
ways; and that rather two or three hours after its
rising, than at his first rise.
9. In Europe the nights are hotter, in Peru,
three hours in the morning, and all for one cause,
namely, by reason of winds and gales ceasing
and lying still at those hours.
10. In a vitro calendari, dilatated or extended
air beats down the water, as it were, with a
breath; but, in a vitro pileato, which is filled
only with air, the dilatated air swells the bladder,
as a manifest and apparent wind.
11. W^e have made trial of such a kind of
wind in a round tower, every way closed up.
For we have placed a hearth or fireplace in the
midst of it, laying a fire of charcoal thoroughly
kindled upon it, that there might be the less
smoke, and on the side of the hearth, at a small
distance, hath been a thread hung up with a cross
of feathers, to the end that it might easily be
moved. So, after a little stay, the heat increasing,
and the air dilatating, tlie thread, and the feather
cross which hung upon it, waved up and dow»>
in a various motion; and, having made a nolc «n
the window of the tower, there came out a hot
breath, which was not continual, but with inter-
mission and waving.
12. Also, the reception of air by cold, after
dilatation, begets such a wind, but weaker, by
reason of the lesser force of cold. So that, in
Peru, under every little shadow, we find not only
more coolness than here with us, (by antiperi-
stasis,) but a manifest kind of gale through the
reception of air when it comes into the shade.
And so much concerning wind occasioned by
mere dilatation or reception of air.
1.3. Winds proceeding from the mere motion
of the air, without any commixion of vapours,
are but gentle and soft. Let us see what may
be said concerning vapoury winds, (we mean
such as are engendered by vapours,) whi» n may
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
451
be so much more vehement than the other, as a
dilatation of a drop of water turned into air ex-
ceeds any dihitation of air already made : which
it doth by many degrees, as we showed before.
14. The efficient cause of vapoury winds (which
are they that commonly blow) is the sun, and its
proportionate heat; the matter is vapours and
exhalations which are turned and resolved into
air. I say air, (and not any thing but air,) yet
at the first not very pure.
15. A small heat of the sun doth not raise
vapours, and consequently causes no wind.
16. A mean and middle heat of the sun raiseth
and excites vapours, but doth not presently dissi-
pate them. Therefore, if there be any great store
of them, they gather together into rain, either
simply of itself, or joined with wind : if there be
but small store of them, they turn only to wind.
17. The sun's heat in its increase, inclines
more to the generation of winds, in its decrease
to rains.
18. The great and continued heat of the sun
attenuates and disperses vapours and sublimes
them, and withal equally mixes and incorporates
them with the air, whereby the air becomes calm
and serene.
19. The more equal and continuate heat of the
sun is less apt for the generation of winds ; that
which is more unequal and intermitted is more
apt. Wherefore in sailing into Russia they are
less troubled with winds than in the British sea,
because of the length of the days ; but in Peru
under the equinoctial are frequent winds, by reason
of the great inequality of heat, taking turns night
and day.
20. In vapours is to be considered both the
quantity and quality. A small quantity engen-
ders weak winds, a mean or middle store stronger;
great store engenders rain, either calm or accom-
panied with wind.
21. Vapours out of the sea and rivers, and
overflown marshes, engender far greater quantity
of winds than the exhalations of the earth. But
those winds which are engendered on the land
and dry places, are more obstinate, and last longer,
and are, for the most part, such as are cast down
from above. So that the opinion of the ancients
in this, is not altogether unprofitable; but only
that it pleased them, as in a manner dividing the
inheritance, to assign rain to vapours, and to
winds exhalations only, which things sound
handsomely, but are vain in effect and substance.
22. Winds brought forth out of the resolutions
of snow lying upon hills, are of a mean condi-
tion between water and land winds; but they
incline more to water, yet they are more sharp
and movable.
23. The dissolution of snow on snowy hills (as
we observed before) always brings constant winds
from that part.
24. Also, yearly northern winds about the
rising of the dogstar, are held to come from the
frozen ocean, and those parts about the arctic cir-
cle, where the dissolutions of snow and ice come
late when the summer is far spent.
25. Those masses or mountains of ice which
are carried towards Canada and Greenland do
rather breed cold gales than movable winds.
26. Winds which arise from chalky and sandy
grounds, are few and dry, and in hotter countries
they are sultry, smoky, and scorching.
27. Winds made of sea vapours do easilier
turn back into rain, the water redemanding and
claiming its rights; and if this be not granted
them, they presently mix with air, and so are
quiet. But terrestrial, smoky, and unctuous va-
pours are both hardlier dissolved and ascend
higher, and are more provoked in their motion,
and oftentimes penetrate the middle region of
the air, and some of them are matter of fiery
meteors.
28. It is reported here in England, that in
those days that Gascoine was under our jurisdic-
tion, there was a petition off'ered to the king by
his subjects of Bordeaux, and the confines there-
of, desiring him to forbid the burning of heath in
the counties of Sussex and Southampton, which
bred a wind towards the end of April which
killed their vines.
29. The meeting of winds, if they be strong,
bring forth vehement and whirling winds; if
they be soft and moist, they produce rain, and lay
the wind.
30. Winds are allayed and restrained five ways.
When the air, overburdened and troubled, is
freed by the vapours contracting themselves into
rain; or when vapours are dispersed and subtil-
ized, whereby they are mixed with the air, and
agree fairly with it, and they live quietly; or
when vapours or fogs are exalted and carried
up on high, so that they cause no disturbance until
they be thrown down from the middle region of
the air, or do penetrate it; or when vapours,
gathered into clouds, are carried away into other
countries, by other winds blowing on high, so
that for them there is peace in those countries
which they fly beyond ; or, lastly, w hen the winds,
blowing from their nurseries, languish through a
long voyage, finding no new matter to feed on,
and so their vehemency forsakes them, and they
do as it were expire and die.
31. Rain, for the most part, allayeth winds,
especially those which are stormy ; as winds,
contrariwise, oftentimes keep off" rain.
32. W^inds do contract themselves into rain,
(which is the first of the five, and the chiefest
means of allaying them,) either being burdened
by the burden itself, when the vapours are copi-
ous, or by tiie contrary motions of winds, so they
be calm and mild ; or by the opposition of moun-
tains and promontories, which stop the vioiencti
of the winds, and, by little and little, turn them
452
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
aprainst themselves ; or by extreme colds, where-
by they are condensed and thickened.
33. Smaller and lighter winds do commonly
rise in the morning, and go down with the sun,
the condensation of the night air being sufficient
to receive them ; for air will endure some kind
of compression without stirring or tumult.
34. It is thought that the sound of bells will
disperse lightning and thunder: in winds it hath
not been observed.
Monition. Take advice from the place in prog-
nostics of winds ; for there is some connexion of
causes and signs.
35. Pliny relates, that the vehemence of a
whirlwind may be allayed by sprinkling of vine-
gar in the encounter of it.
The Bounds of Winds.
To the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth articles.
1. It is reported of Mount Athos, and likewise
of Olympus, that the priests would write in the
ashes of the sacrifices which lay upon the altars,
built on the tops of those hills, and when they
returned the year following, (for the offerings
were annual,) they found the same letters undis-
turbed and uncancelled, though those altars stood
not in any temple, but in the open air. Whereby
it was manifest, that in such a height there had
neither fallen rain nor wind blown.
2. They say that on the top of the Peak of
Teneriife, and on the Andes, betwixt Peru and
Chili, snow lieth upon the borders and sides of
the hills, but that on the tops of them there is
nothing but a quiet and still air, hardly breathe-
able by reason of its tenuity, which, also, with a
kind of acrimony, pricks the eyes and orifice of
the stomach, begetting in some a desire to vomit,
and in others a flushing and redness.
3. Vapoury winds seem notinany great height,
though it be probable that some of them ascend
higher than most clouds. Hitherto of the height ;
now we must consider of the latitude.
4. It is certain that those spaces which winds
take up are very various, sometimes they are very
large, sometimes little and narrow: winds have
been known to have taken up a hundred miles'
space with a few hours' difference.
5. Spacious winds (if they be of the free kind)
are, for the most part, vehement, and not soft, and
more lasting; for they will last almost four-and-
twenty hours. They are likewise not so much in-
clined to rain. Strait or narrow winds, contrari-
wise, are either soft or stormy, and always short.
6. Fixed and stayed winds are itinerary or
travelling, and take up very large spaces.
7. Stormy winds do not extend themselves into
any large spaces, though they always go beyond
the bounds of the storm itself.
8. Sea winds always blow within narrower
spaces than earth winds, as may sometimes be
een at sea, namely, a pretty fresh gale in some
1 part of the water, (which may be easily perceived
by the crisping of it,) when there is a calm, as
smooth as glass, everywhere else.
9. Small whirlwinds (as we said before) will
sometimes play before men as they are riding,
almost like wind out of a pair of bellows. So
much of the latitude ; now we must see concern-
ing the lastingness.
10. The vehement winds will last longer at
sea, by reason of the sufficient quantity of vapours ;
at land they will hardly last above a day and
a half.
11. Very soft winds will not blow constant-
ly, neither at sea, nor upon the land, above
three days.
12. The south wind is not only more lasting
than the west, (which we set down in another
place,) but likewise what wind soever it be that
begins to blow in the morning, useth to be more
durable and lasting than that which begins to
blow at night.
13. It is certain that winds do rise, and in-
crease by degrees, (unless they be mere storms,)
but they allay sooner, sometimes as it were in an
instant.
Succession of Winds.
To the nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first articles.
1. If the wind doth change according to the
motion of the sun, that is, from east to south,
from south to west, from west to north, from the
north to the east, it doth not return often, or if it
doth, it doth it but for a short time. But if it go
contrary to the motion of the sun, that is, from
the east to the north, from the north to the west,
from the west to the south, and from the south to
the east, for the most part it is restored to its first
quarter, at least before it hath gone round its
whole compass and circuit.
2. If rain begins first, and the wind begins to
blow afterwards, that wind will outlast the rain;
but if the wind blow first, and then is allayed by
the rain, the wind for the most part will not rise
again ; and if it does, there ensues a new rain.
3. If winds do blow variously for a few hours,
and as it were to make a trial, and afterward begin
to blow constantly, that wind shall continue for
many days.
4. If the south wind begin to blow two or three
days, sometimes the north wind will blow pre-
sently after it. But if the north wind blows as
many days, the south wind will not blow, until
the wind have blown a little from the east.
5. When the year isdecliningand winter begins
after autumn is past, if the south wind blows in
the beginning of winter, and after it comes tho
north wind, it will be a frosty winter ; but if the
north wind blow in the beginning of winter, and
the south wind come after, it will be a mild and
warm winter.
6. Pliny quotes Eudoxus, to show that the ordei
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
453
o'" winds rotnrns after evrry four years, which
"e«ins not to be true, for revolutions are not so
quick. This ind( ed hath heen by some men's
diliirence observed, that fjreatest and most notable
seasons (for heat, snow, frost, warm winters, and
cold summers) for the most part return after the
revolution of five-and-thirty years.
The Motion of the Winds.
Tn the twenty-second, twenty-third, twenty-fourth, twenty-
fifth, twenty-sixth, and twenty-seventh articles. Con-
nexion.
Men talk as if the wind were some body of it-
self, and by its own force did drive and atritale
the air. Also, when the wind changes its i)lace,
tliey talk as if it did transport itself into another
place. This is the vulgar's opinion ; yet the
pliilosopliers themselves apply no remedy there-
unto, but they likewise stammer at it, and do not
any way contradict and oppose these errors.
1. We must tiierefore inquire concerning the
raising of the motion of the winds, and of the
direction of it, having already inq-iiired of the
local beginnings; and of those winds which have
their beginning of motion in their first impulsion,
as in those which are cast down from above or
blow out of the earth, the raising of their motion
is manifest : others descend below their own l-e-
ginnings ; others ascend, and being resisted by
the air, become voluminous, especially near the
angles of their violence ; but of those which are
engendered everywhere in this inferior air, (which
are the frequentest of all the winds,) the inquisi-
tion seems to be somewhat obscure, although it
be a vulgar thing, as we have set down in the
commentation under the eighth article.
2. We found likewise an image or representa-
tion of this in that close tower which we spake of
before; for we varied that trial three ways. The
first was that which we spake of before ; namely,
a fire of clear burning coals. The second was a
kettle of seething water, the fire being set away,
and then the motion of the cross of feathers was
more slow and dujl. The third was with both fire
and kettle ; and then the agitation of the cross of
feathers was very vehement, so that sometimes it
would whirl up and down, as if it had been in a
petty whirlwind, the water yielding store of va-
pours, and the fire which stood by it dissipating
and dispersing them.
3. So that the chief cause of exciting motion
in the winds is the overcharging of the air by a
new addition of air engendered by vapours.
Now we must see concerning the direction of
the iTiotion, and of the whirling, which is a
change of the direction.
4. The nurseries and food of the winds doth
govern their progressive motion ; which nur-
series and feedings are like unto the springs of
rivers ; namely, the places where there are great
store ol vapours, for there is the native country
of the winds. Then, when they have fonrid a
current, where the air makes no resistance, (as
water when it finds a falling way,) then, whatso
ever semblable matter they find by the way, they
take into their fellowship, and mix it with their
currents even as rivers do. So that the winds
blow always from that side where their nurseries
are which feed them.
5. Where there are no notable nurseries in any
certain place, the winds stray very much, and do
easily change their current, as in the middle of
the sea, and large spacious fields.
6. Where there are great nurseries of the winds
in one place, but in the way of its progress it
hath but small additions, there the winds blow
strongly in their beginnings, and by little and
little they allay ; and contrariwise, where they
find good store of matter to feed on by the way,
they are weak in the begiiming, but gather
strength by the way.
7. There are movable nurseries for the winds,
namely, in the clouds, which many times are
carried far away from the nurseries of vapours
of which those clouds were made, by winds
blowing high; then the nursery of the wind
begins to be in that place where the clouds do
begin to be dissolved into wind.
8. But the whirling of winds does not happen,
because the wind which blows at first transports
itself, but because either that is allayed and spent,
or brought into order by another wind ; and all
this business depends on the various placings of
the nurseries of winds, and variety of times,
when vapours issuing out of these nurseries are
dissolved.
9. If there be nurseries of winds on contrary
parts, as one nursery on the south, another on the
north side, the strongest wind will prevail ; nei-
ther will there he contrary winds, but the stronger
wind will blow continually, though it be some-
what dulled and tamed by the weaker wind, as
it is in rivers, when the flowing of the sea comes
in; for the sea's motion prevails, and is the only
one, but it is somewhat curbed by the motion of
the river; and if it so happen that one of those
contrary winds, namely, that which was the
strongest, be allayed, then presently the contrary
will blow, from that side where it blew before,
but lay hidden under the force and power of the
greater.
10. As for example, if the nursery be at- the
north-east, the north-east wind will blow; but it
there be two nurseries of winds, namely, another
in the north, those winds for some tract of wav
will blow severally, but after the angle of con-
fluence where they come together they will blow
to the north-east, or with some inclimUion, accord-
ing as the other nursery shall prove stronger.
11. If there be a nursery of wind on the north
side, which may be distant from some country
twenty miles, and is the stronger; another on the
454
NATUIUL HISTORY OF WINDS.
east side, which is distint some ten miles, and is
weaker; yet the east wind will blow for some
hours, and a while after (namely, when its
journey is ended) the north wind.
12. If the northern wind blow, and some hill
stands in the way of it on the west side, a little
while after the north-east wind will blow, com-
pounded by the original, and that which is beaten
back again.
13. If there be a nursery of winds in the earth
on the northern side, and the breath thereof be
carried directly upward, and it find a cold cloud
on the west side, which turns it off the contrary
way, there will blow a north-east wind.
14. Munition. Nurseries of winds in sea and
land are constant, so that the spring and be-
ginning of them may be the better perceived ;
but the nurseries of winds in the clouds are
movable, so that in one place there is matter
furnished for the winds, and they are formed in
another, which makes the direction of motion in
winds to be more confused and uncertain.
Those things we have produced for example's
sake, the like are after the like manner; and
hitherto of the direction of the motion of winds :
now we must see concerning the longitude, and,
as it were, the itinerary or journey of the winds,
though it may seem we have already inquired of
this under the notion of the latitude of winds;
for latitude may by unlearned men also be taken
for longitude, if winds take up more space late-
rally than they go forward in longitude.
14. If it be true that Columbus could upon
the coasts of Portugal judge of the continent of
America by the constant winds from the west,
truly, the winds can travel a long journey.
15. If it be true that the dissolution of snows
about the frozen seas, and Scandia do excite and
raise northerly winds in Italy and Greece, &c.,
in the dogdays, surely these are long journeys.
16. It hath not yet been observed how much
sooner a storm does arrive, according to the way
it comes, (as for example, if it be an eastern
wind,) how much sooner it comes from the east,
and how much later from the west. And so much
concerning the motion of winds in their progres-
sion or going forward : now we must see concern-
ing the undulation or swelling of winds.
17. The undulation or swelling of winds is done
in a few moments, so that a wind will (though it
be strong) rise and fall by turns, at the least a
hundred times in an hour; whereby it appears
that the violence of winds is unequal ; for neither
J i vers, though swift, nor currents in the sea,
though strong, do rise in waves, unless the blow-
ing of wind oe joined thereunto, neither hath the
swelling of winds any equality in itself; for like
unto the jjulse of one's hand, sometimes it beats,
and sometimes it intermits.
18 The undulation or swelling of the air dif-
j fers from the swelling of waters into waves m
j this, that in waters, after the waves are risen on
I high, they of themselves, and their own accord,
I do again fall to the place of them ; whence it
comes that (whatsoever poets say when they
aggravate tempests, namely, that the waves are
raised up to heaven, and again sink down to hell)
the descent of the waves do not precipitate much
below the plane and superficies of the water.
But in the swelling of the air, where the motion
of gravity or weight is wanting, the air is thrust
down and raised almost in an equal manner. And
thus rnuch of undulation. Now we must inquire
of the motion of conflict or striving.
19. The conflicts of winds and compounded
conflicts we have partly inquired already. It is
plain that winds are ubiquitary, especially the
mildest of them. Which is likewise manifest by
this, that there are few days and hours wherein
some gales do not blow in free places, and that
inconstantly and variously enough. For winds
which do not proceed from greater nurseries are
vagabond and voluble, as it were, playing one
with the other, sometimes driving forward, and
sometimes flying back.
20. It hath been seen sometimes at sea, that
winds have come from contrary parts together,
which was plainly to be perceived by the pertur-
bation of the water on both sides, and the calm-
ness in the middle between them ; but after those
contrary winds have met, either there hath fol-
lowed a general calm of the water everywhere,
namely, when the winds have broken and quelled
one another equally; or the perturbation of the
water hath continued, namely, when the stronger
wind hath prevailed.
21. It is certain that, in the mountains of Peru,
it hath often chanced that the wind at one time
hath blown on the tops of the hills one way, and
in the valleys the clean contrary way.
22. It is likewise certain here with us, that the
clouds are carried one way, when tlie wind near
us hath blown the contrary way.
23. It is likewise certain, that sometimes the
higher clouds will outfly the lower clouds, so that
they will go diverse, yea, and contrary ways, as
it were in contrary currents.
24. It is likewise certain, that sometimes in the
higher part of the air winds have been neither dis-
tracted nor moved forward; when here below
they have been driven forward with a mad kind
of violence, for the space of half a mile.
25. And it is likewise certain, contrariwise,
that here below the air hath been very still, when
above the clouds have been carried with a fresh
and merry gale; but that happen more seldom.
An indirect experiment.
Likewise in waves, sometimes the upper water
is swifter, sometimes the lower ; and soiaetimea
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
455
there are (but that is seldom) several currents of
water, of that which is uppermost, and that which
lieth beneath.
26. Nor are Virgil's testimonies altogether to
be rejected, he being not utterly unskilful in natu-
ral philosophy.
Together rush the east and south-east wind,
Nor doth wave calling south-west stay behind.
And again :
I all the winds have seen their battles join.
We have considered of the motions of winds, in
the nature of things : we must now consider their
motions in human engines ; and, first of all, in the
• sails of ships.
The Motion of Winds in the Saih of Ships.
1. In our greatest Britain ships (for we have
chosen those for our pattern) there are four masts,
and sometimes five, set up one behind the other,
in a direct line drawn through the middle of the
ship. Which masts we will name thus:
2. The mainmast, which stands in the middle
of the ship; the foremast, the mizenmast, (which
is sometimes double,) and the spritmast.
3. Each mast consists of several pieces, which
may be lifted up, and fashioned with several knots
and joints, or taken away; some have three of
them, some only two.
4. The spritsail-mast from the lower joint lies
bending over the sea, from that it stands upright;
all the other masts stand upright.
5. Upon these masts hang ten sails, and when
there be two mizenmasts, twelve ; the mainmast
and foremast have three tiers of sails, which we
will call the mainsail, the topsail, and the main-
topsail ; the rest have but two, wanting the main-
topsail.
G. The sails are stretched out across, near the
top of every joint of the mast, by certain beams
which we call yards, to which the upper parts of
the sails are fastened, the lower parts are fastened
with ropes at each corner; the mainsails to the
sides of the, ship, top and main-topsails to the
yards which are next below them.
7. The yard of every mast hangs across, only
the yards of the mizenmast hang sloping, one
end up, and the other down ; in the rest they hang
straight across the masts, like unto the letter T.
8. The mainsails of the mainmast, foremast,
and boarsprit, are of a quadrangular parallello-
gram form ; the top and main-topsails somewhat
sharp, and growing narrow at the top ; but the
top mizensails are sharp, the lower or mainsails
triangular.
9. In a ship of eleven hundred tons, which
was one hundred and twelve feet long in the
keel, and forty in breadth in the hold ; the main-
sail of the mainmast was two-and-forty feet deep,
and eighty-seven feet broad.
10. The topsail of the same mast was fifty feet
deep, and eighty-four feet broad at the bottom,
and forty-two at the top.
11. The main-topsail was seven-and-twenty
feet deep, and two-and-forty broad at the bottom,
and one-and-twenty at the top.
12. The foremast mainsail was forty feet and
a half deep, and seventy-two feet broad.
13.%The topsail was six-and-forty feet and a
half deep, and sixty-nine feet broad at the bottom,
and six-and-thirty at the top.
14. The main-topsail was four-and-twenty feet
deep, six-and-thirty feet broad at the bottom, and
eighteen feet at the top.
15. The mizen-mainsail was on the upper part
of the yard one-and-fifty feet broad ; in that part
which was joined to the yard seventy-two feet;
the rest ending in a sharp point,
16. The topsail was thirty feet deep, fifty-
seven feet broad at the bottom, and thirty feet
at the top.
17. If there be two mizenmasts, the hinder-
most sails are less than the foremast about the
fifth part.
18. The mainsail of the boarsprit was eight-
and-twenty feet deep and a half, and sixty feet
broad.
19. The topsail five-and-twenty feet and a half
deep, and sixty feet broad at the bottom, and
thirty at the top.
20. The proportions of masts and sails do vary,
not only according to the bigness of ships, but
also according to the several uses for which they
are built: some for fighting, some for merchan-
dise, some for swiftness, &c. But the proportion
of the dimension of sails is no way proportioned
to the number of tons whereof the ships consist,
seeing a ship of five hundred tons, or theieabout,
may bear almost as large a sail as the other
we speak of, which was almost as big again.
Whence it proceeds that lesser ships are far
swifter and speedier than great ones, not only by
reason of their lightness, but also by reason of
the largeness of their sails, in respect of the
body of the ship; for to continue that proportion
in bigger ships would be too vast and impossible
a thing.
21. Each sail being stretched out at the top,
and only tied by the corners at the bottom, the
wind must needs cause it to swell, especially
about the bottom, where it is slacker.
22. The swelling is far greater in the lower
sails than in the upper, because they are not only
parallelograms, and the other more pointed at the
top, but also because the extent of the yard doth
so far exceed the breadth of the ship's sides to
which they are fastened, that of necessity, be
cause of the looseness, there must be a great re
ceipt for the wind ; so that in the great ship
which we proposed for an example, the swelling
of the sail in a direct wind may be nine or ten
feet inward.
456
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS,
23. B}' the same reason it also hap"pens that
all sails which are swelled by the wind, do gather
themselves into a kind of ^arch or bow, so that of
necessity much wind must slip through ; inso-
much, that in such a ship as we made mention
of, that arch may be as high as a man.
24. But in the triangular sail of the mizenmast
there must of necessity be a lesser swellinf than
ill the quadrangular; as well because that figure
is less capable, as, also, because that in the quad-
rangular three sides are slack and loose, but in
the triangular only two, so that the wind is more
sparingly received.
25. The motion of the wind in sails, the nearer
it comes to the beak of the ship, the stronger it is,
and sets the ship more forward, partly because it
is in a place where, because of the sharpness of
the beak-head, the waves are easilier cut in sun-
der; but, chiefly, because the motion at the beak
draws on the ship; the motion from the stern
and back part of the ship doth but drive it.
26. The motion of the winds in the sails of the
upper tier advances more than that in the lower
tier, because a violent motion is most violent
■when it is farthest removed from resistance, as in
the wings and sails of windmills; but there is
danger of drowning or overturning the ship :
wherefore those sails are made narrower at the
top, that they should not take in too much wind,
and are chiefly made use of when there is not
much wind.
27. Sails being placed in a direct line, one
behind the other, of necessity those sails which
stand behind must steal the wind from the fore-
most when the wind blows foreright; wherefore,
if they be all spread out at once, the force of the
wind hath scarce any power but in the mainmast
sails, with little help of the lower sails of the
boarsprit.
28. The best and most convenient ordering of
sails, in a direct wind, is to have the two lower
sails of the foremast hoisted up, for there (as we
said before) the motion is most effectual ; let also
the topsail of the mainmast be hoisted up, for
there will be so much room left under it, that
there may be wind sufficient for the foresails,
without any notable stealing of the wind from
them.
29. By reason of the hinder sails stealing of
the wind away from the foresails, we sail swifter
with a side wind than with a fore wind. For
with a side wind all the sails may be made use
of, for they turn their sides to one another, and so
hinder nor rob not one another.
.30. Likewise, when a side wind blows, the
sails are stilflier stretched out against the wind,
which somewhat restrains the wind, and sends it
that way as it should blow, whereby it gains some
strength. But that wind is most advantageous
which blows cornerly between a fore wind and a
sido. wind
3L The lower boarsprit-sail can hardly ever be
unuseful, for it cannot be robbed from gathering
the wind wliich way soever it doth blow, either
about the ship sides, or under the rest of the
sails.
32. There is considerable* in the motion of
winds in ships, both the impulsion and direction
of them. For that direction, which is made by
the helm, doth not belong to the present inquisi-
tion, but only as it hath a connexion with the
motion of the winds in the sails.
Connexion. As the motion of impulsion or
driving forward is in force at the beak, so is the
motion of direction in the poop ; therefore, for
that the lower mizenmast sail is of greatest con-'
cernment, for it is, as it were, an assistant to
the helm.
33. Seeing the compass is divided into two-and-
thirty points, so that the semicircles of it are
sixteen points, there may be a progressive sailing,
(without any casting aboard, which is used when
the wind is clean contrary,) though of the sixteen
parts there be but six favourable, and the other
ten contrary. But that kind of sailing depends
much upon the lower sail of the mizenmast. For
whilst the adverse parts of the wind, being more
powerful and not to be opposed by the helm
alone, would turn the other sails, and the ship
itself, against its intended course, that sail being
stiflly stretched, favouring the helm, and strength-
ening its motion, turns the beak into the way of
its course.
34. All manner of wind in the sails doth some-
what burden and depress the ship, and so much
the more when it blows most from above. So
that in the greatest storms, first they lower their
yards and take away the upper sails, and if need
be, all the rest, cut down the masts, cast their
goods into the sea, and their ordnance, &c., to
lighten the ship and make it swim and give
way to the waves.
35. By this motion of the winds in the sails of
ships, (if it be a merry and prosperous gale,) a
merchant's ship may sail sixscore Italian miles
in four-and-twenty hours ; for there are certain
packet boats which are built a purpose for swift-
ness, (that are called caravels,) which will go
further. But when the wind is clean contrary,
they fly to this last refuge, and a very weak one,
to go on their course, namely, to proceed side-
way, as the wind will suflTer them, out of their
course, then turn their way again towards their
course, and so proceed in an angular way. By
which progression (which is less than creeping,
for serpents creep on by crooked turnings, but
they make angles) they may, in four-and-twenty
hours, go fifteen miles' journey.
Greater Observations.
1. This motion of winds in sails of ships hath
• i. e. to be considered.
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
457
tlir«'e chief heads and fountains of its impulsion,
01 driviiinf forward, from whence it flows and
derives; whence also precepts may be taken to
increase and strenifihen it.
•2. The first sprint comes from the quantity of
the wind which is received ; for questionless
mere wind helps more than less; wherefore the
qu.intily of wind must be carefully procured,
which will be done if, like wise householders, we
be good husbands, and take care nothing be stolen
from us. Wherefore we must be very careful
that no wind may be lost.
3. The wind blows either above the ships or
below them, to the very superficies and surface
of tlie sea; and as provident men use to look
most after the least thing's, (for the greater no man
:;an choose but look after,) so we will first look
after these lower winds, which questionless cannot
perform so much as the higlier ,
4. As concerning the winds which blow chiefly
about the sides of the ships, and under their sails,
it is the oflice of the main boarsprit-sail, which
lies low and sloping, to gather them into it, that
there may be no waste nor loss of wind ; and tliis
of itself does good, and hinders not the wind
which fills the other sails. And about this I do
not see what can be done more by the industry
of man, unless they should perchance fix such
low sails out of the middle of the ship, like
wings or feathers, two on each side when the
wind blows right.
5. But, concerning the bewaring of being rob-
bed, which happens when the hinder sails (in a
fore-right wind) steal the wind away from the
foresails, (for in a side wind all the sails are set
a-work,) I know not what can be added to the
care man hath already taken to prevent it, un-less
when there is a fore wind, there may be made a
kind of stairs, or scale of sails, that the hinder-
most sails of the mizzenmast may be the lowest,
the middle ones at the mainmast a little higher,
the foremast, at the foremast, highest of all, that
one sail may not hinder but rather help the other,
delivering and passing over the wind from one to
another. And let so much be observed of the
first fountain of impulsion.
6. The second fountain of impulsion consists
in the manner of striking the sail with the wind,
which, if through the contraction of the wind it
be acute and swift, will move more; if obtuse
and languishing, less.
7. As concerning this, it is of great moment,
and much tft the purpose, to let the sails have a
reasonable extension and swelling; for if they be
f>tretched out stiff, they will, like a wall, beat
back the wind ; if they be too loose, there will
be a weak impulsion.
8. Touching this, human industry hath behaved
itself well in some things, though it was more
by chance than out of any good judgment. For,
in a side wind, they gather up that part of the
Vol. 111.-58
pail as much as they can which is opposite against
the wind : and by that means they set in the wind
into that part where it should blow. And this
they do and intend. But, in the mean season,
this follows, (which, peradventure, they do not
perceive,) that the wind is more contracted, and
strikes more sharply.
I). What may be added to human industry in
this, I cannot perceive, unless the figure of the
sails be changed, and some sails be made which
shall not swell round, but, like a spur or a trian-
gle, with a mast or piece of timber in that corner
of the top, that they may contract the wind more
sharply, and cut the outward air more powerfully.
And that angle (as we suppose) must not be alto-
gether sharp, but like a short obtuse triangle,
that it may have some breadth. Neither do we
know what good it would do, if there were, as it
were, a sail made in a sail ; if, in the middle of
a greater sail, there were a kind of a purse, not
altogether loose, of canvass, but with ribs of
wood, which should take up the wind in the
middle of the sail, and bring it into a sharpness.
10. The third fountain or original of impul-
sion, is in the place where the wind hits, and
that is twofold ; for, from the fore side of the ship
the impulsion is easier and stronger than on the
hinder part ; and from the upper part of the mast
and sail than from the lower part.
11. Neither seems the industry of man to have
been ignorant of this, when, in a fore-wind, theii
greatest hopes have been in their foremasts, an*.!
In calms they have have not been careless in
hoisting up of their topsails. Neither, for the
present, do we find what may be added to human
industry in this point, unless concerning the first
we should set up two or three foremasts, (the
first upright and the rest sloping,) whose sails
shall hang downward ; and, as for the second,
that the foresails should be enlarged at the top,
and made less sharp than they usually are: but,
in both, we must take heed of the inconvenience
of danger, in sinking the ship too much.
TTie Motion of TVinds in other Entwines of Man's
Invention,
1. The motion of windmills hath no subtilty
at all in it ; and yet, usually, it is not well ex-
plained nor demonstrated. The sails are set
right and direct opposite against the wind which
bloweth. One side of the sail lies to the wind,
the other side by little and little bends itself, and
gets itself away from the wind. But the turning
and continuance of the motion is always caused
by the lower part, namely, that which is farthest
from the wind. But the wind, overcasting itself
against the engine, is contracted and restrained
by the four sails, and is constrained to take its
way in four spaces. The wind doth not well
endure that compression ; wherefore, of necessity
it must, as it were, with its elbow hit the sides
2Q
458
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
nf the sails, and so turn them, even as little
whirligigs that children play withal, are turned
with the fingers.
2 If the sails were extended even and equally,
it would be doubtful which way the inclination
w<-»uld be, as in the fall of a staff; but when the
nearer side which meets with the wind casts the
violence of it upon the lower side and from
thence into distances, so that when the lower
side receives the wind, like the paim of the hand,
or the sail of a ship's boat, presently there is a
turning on that side. But this is to be observed,
that the beginning of the motion proceeds not
from the first impulsion, which is direct and
abreast, hut from the lateral impulsion, which
is after the compression or straitening of the
wind.
3, We made some proofs and trials about this,
for tlie increasing of this motion, as well to be
assured we had found the cause, as also for use ;
feigning an imitation of this motion, with paper
sails, and the wind of a pair of bellows. We,
therefore, added to the side of the lower sail a
fold turned in from the wind, that the wind being
become a side wind might have somewhat more
to beat upon, which did no good, that fold not so
much assisting the percussion of the wind, as in
consequence hindering the cutting of the air.
We placed behind the sails, at some distance,
certain obstacles as broad as the diameter of all
the sails, that the wind being more compressed
might hit the stronger; but this did rather
hurt than good, the repercussion dulling the
primary motion. Then we made the sails of
a double breadth, that the wind might be the
more restrained, and there might be a stronger
lateral percussion, which at last proved very
well; so that the conversion was caused by a
far milder gale, and did turn a great deal more
swiftly.
Mandate. Perajventure this increase of motion
might more conveniently be'made by eight sails,
than by four, doubling the breath, unless too
much weight did overburden the motion ; which
must have trial made of it.
Mandate. Likewise the length of sails doth
much conduce to the motion. For in wheelings
a slight violence about the circumference is equi-
valent to a far greater about the centre. But then
this inconvenience follows, that the longer the
sails are, the more distant they are at the top,
and the wind is so much the less straitened.
Peradventure the business would go well if the
sails were a little longer and broader towards the
lop, like the outermost end of an oar. But this
we are not sure of.
Motion. If these experiments be made trial
of in windmills, care must be taken of the wind-
mill posts, and the foundations of it ; for the more
the wind is restrained, the more it snakes (though
it swiftens the motion of the sails) the whole
frame of the mill.
4. It is reported that in some countries there
are coaches and wagons which move with the
wind; but this must be more diligently looked
after.
Mandate. Chariots moving by virtue of the
wind can be of no use, unless it be in open places
and plains; besides, what will be done if the
wind allays ? It had been better to have thought
of easing the motion of wagons and coaches by
sails, which might be set up and taken down, to
ease the oxen or horses which draw them, rather
than to make a motion by wind alone.
Prognostics of Winds.
To the two-and-thirtieth article. Connexion.
The more divination useth to be polluted by
vanity and superstition, so much more is the purer
part of it to be received and honoured. But na-
tural divination is sometimes more certain, some-
times more slippery and deceitful, according to
the subject with which it hath to do; for if it be
of a constant and regular nature, it causeth a
certain prediction; if it be of a variable and irre-
gular nature, it may make a casual and deceitful
one: yet, in a various subject the prediction will
hold true, if it be diligently regulated; peradven-
ture it may not hit upon the very moments, but
in the thing itself it will not err much. Likewise,
for the times of the event and complement, some
predictions will hit right enough, namely, those
which are not gathered from the causes, but from
the thing itself, already inchoated, but sooner ap-
pearing in an apt and fitly disposed matter than
in another, as we said before in the topics con-
cerning this two-and-thirtieth article. W'e will
now, therefore, set forth the prognostics of winds,
of necessity intermixing some of rain and fair
weather, which could not conveniently be sepa-
rated, remitting the full inquiry of them to their
proper titles.
1. If the sun appears hollow at its rising, it
will the very same day yield wind or rain; if it
appears as it were a little hollow, it signifies
wind: if deeply hollow, rain.
2. If the sun rises pale, or (as we call it)
waterish, it betokens rain; if it set so, it beto-
kens wind.
3. If the body of the sun itself appears at ita
setting of the colour of blood, it betokens great
winds for many days.
4. If at sunrising its beams appears rather red
than yellow, it signifies wind rather than rain,
and the like if they appear so at its setting.
5. If at sunrising or setting its rays appear
contracted or shortened, and do not shine out
bright, though the weather be not cloudy, it sig*
I nifies rain rather than wind.
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
459
fi. If before sunrisinff there appear some rays
as forerunners, it signifies both wind and rain.
7. If the sun at its rising dilfuses its rays
tlirough the clouds, the middle of the sun re-
maining still under clouds, it shall signify rain,
especially if those beams break out downwards,
that the sun appears as it were with a beard.
But if the rays break forth out of the middle, or
dispersed, and its exterior body, or the out parts
of it, be covered with clouds, it foreshows great
tempests both of wind and rain.
S. If the sun, when it rises, be encompassed
with a circle, let wind be expected from that side
on which the circle opens. But if the circle fall
off all at one time it will be fair weather.
9. If at the setting of the sun there appears a
white circle about it, it signifies some small storm
the same night ; if black or darkness, much wind
the day following.
10. If the clouds look red at sunrising, they
are prognostics of wind ; if at sunsetting, of a
fair ensuing day.
11. If about tlie rising of the sun clouds do
gather themselves about it, they foreshow rough
storms that day ; but if they be driven back from
the rising towards the setting of the sun, they
signify fair weather.
12. If at sunrising the clouds be dispersed
from the sides of the sun, some southward, and
some northward, though the sky be clear about
the sun, it foreshows wind.
13. If the sun goes down in a cloud, it fore-
shows rain the next day ; but if it rains at sun-
setting it is a token of wind rather. But if the
clouds seem to be as it were drawn towards the
sun, it signifies both wind and storms.
14. If clouds at the rising of the sun seem not
to encompass it, but to lie over it, as if they were
about to eclipse it, they foreshow the rising of
winds on that side as the clouds incline. And
if they do this about noon, they signify both
wind and rain.
15. If the clouds have encompassed the sun,
the less light they leave it, and the lesser the orb
of the sun appears, so much the more raging
shall the tempest be; but if there appear a double
or treble orb, as though there were two or three
suns, the tempest will be so much the more vio-
lent for many days.
16. New moons presage the dispositions of the
air ; but especially the fourth rising of it, as if it
were a confirmed new moon. The full moons
likewise do presage more than the days which
come after
17. By long observation the fifth day of the
moon is feared by mariners for stormy.
18. If the new moon do not appear before the
fourth day, it foreshows a troubled air for the
whole month.
19. If the new moon, at her first appearance,
or within a few days, have its lower horn obscure
or dusky, or any way blemished, it signifies
stormy and tempestuous days before the full
moon; if it be ill coloured in the middle, teiji-
pests will come about the full of the moon; if
it be so about the upper part of the horn, they
will be about the decreasing of the moon.
20. If at the fourth rising the moon appear
bright, with sliarp horns, not lying flat, nor stand-
ing upright, but in a middle kind of posture be-
tween both, it promises fair weather for the most
part until the next notv moon.
21. If at the same rising it be red, it portends
winds ; if dusky or black, rain ; but, howsoever,
it signifies nothing beyond the full moon.
22. An upright moon is almost always threaten-
ing and hurtful, but it chiefly portends winds :
but if it have blunt horns, and as it were cut ofl"
short, it rather signifies rain.
23. If one horn of the moon be sharp and the
other blunt, it signifies wind ; if both be blunt,
rain.
24. If a circle or halo appear about the moon,
it signifies rain rather than wind, unless the
moon stands directly within that circle, for then
it signifies both.
25. Circles about the moon always foreshow
winds on that side where they break ; also a no-
table shining in some part of the circle, signifies
winds from that part where the shining is.
2G. If the circles about the moon be double or
treble, they foreshow horrible and rough terji-
pests, and especially if those circles be not wKole,
but spotted and divided.
27. Full moons, as concerning the colours and
circles, do in a manner foreshow the same things,
as the fourth rising, but more present, and not so
long delayed.
28. Full moons use to be more clear than the
other ages of the moon, and in winter use to be
far colder.
29. The moon appearing larger at the going
down of the sun, if it be splendent and not dusky,
betokens fair weather for many days.
30. Winds almost continually follow the
eclipses of the moon, and fair weather the
eclipses of the sun ; rain comes after neither.
31. From the conjunctions of any of the planets,
but only the sun, you may expect winds both be-
fore and after; from their conjunctions with the
sun, fair weather.
32. At the rising of the Pleiades and Hyades
come showers of rain, but calm ones; after the
rising of Arcturus and Orion, tempests,
33. Returning and shooting stars (as we call
them) signify winds to come from that place
j whence they run, or are shot; but if they My
from several, or contrary parts, it is a sign of
i great approaching storms of wind and rain.
34. When such little stars as those which are
called Aselli are not seen generally all over the
sky, it foreshows great tempests and rain withm
460
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
Bome few days; but if they be seen m some
places, and not in other some, it foreshows winds
only, and that suddenly.
25k The sky, when it is all over bright, in a
new moon, or at the fourth rising of it, portends
fair weather for many days ; if it be all over dark,
it foreshows rain ; if partly dark and partly fair,
it portends wind of that side where the darkness
is seen ; but if it grow dark on a sadden, without
either cloud or mist to dim the brightness of the
stars, there are great and rough tempests a-
breeding.
30. If an entire circle encloseth a planet, or
any of the greater stars, it foreshows wind ; if it
be a broken circle, winds from those parts where
the circle is deficient.
37. When the thunder is more than the light-
nings, there will be great winds; but if the light-
nings be thick amidst the thundering, it fore-
shows thick showers, with great drops.
38. Morning thunders signify wind; midday
thunders, rain.
39. Bellowing thunders, which do as it were
pass along, presage winds; and those which
make a sharp and unequal noise, presage storms
both of wind and rain.
40. When it lightens in a clear sky, winds are
at hand, and rain from the part where it lightens;
but if it lightens in diverse parts, there will fol-
low cruel -and horrid tempests.
41. If it lightens in the cold quarters of the
heavens, namely, the east and north, hail will
follow ; if in the warmer, namely, south and
west, we shall have rain and a warm sky.
42. Great heats after the sammer solstice, and
commonly with thunder and lightning, and if
those come not, there will be wind and rain for
many days.
43. The globe of flame, which the ancients
called Castor, which is seen by mariners and
seafaring men at sea, if there be but one,
presages a cruel tempest, (Castor is the dead
brother,) and much more, if it stick not close to
the mast, but dances up and down; but if they
be twins, (and Pollux the living brother be pre-
sent,) and that when the tempest is high, it is a
good presage ; but if there be three, (namely, if
Helen, the plague of all things, come in,) it will
be a more cruel tempest: so that one seems to
show the indigested matter of the storm; two, a
digested and ripe matter; three or more, an
abundance that will hardly be dispersed.
44. If we see the clouds drive very fast when
it is a clear sky, we must look for winds from
that way from which the clouds are driven; but
if they wheel and tumble up together, when the
sun draws near to that part in which they are
tumbled up together, they will begin to scatter
anu sever; and if they part most towards the
north, it betokens wind; if towards the south,
rain.
45. If at sunsetting there arise black and dark
clouds, they presage rain ; if against the sun,
namely, in the east, the same night ; if near the
sun in the west, the next day, with winds.
4(). The clearing of a cloudy sky, if it begins
against the wind which then blows, signifies
clear, fair weather; with the wind it betokens
nothing, but the thing remains uncertain.
47. There are sometimes seen several, as it
were, chambers, or joined stories of clouds, one
above the other, (so as Gilbertus affirms, he hath
seen five of them together,) and always the black-
est are lowermost, though sometimes it appears
otherwise, because the whitest do more allure the
sight. A double conjunction of stories, if it be
thick, shows approaching rain, (especially if the
lower cloud seem, as it were, big with child;)
more conjunctions presage continuance of rage.
48. If clouds spread abroad like fleeces of wool
here and there, they foreshow tempests ; but if
they lie one atop of another, like scales or tiles,
they presage drought and clear weather.
49. Feathered clouds, like to the boughs of a
palm tree, or the flowers of a rainbow, are prog-
nostics of present rain, or immediately to follow.
50. When hills and hillocks look as though
they wore caps, by reason of the clouds lying
upon them, and encompassing them, it presages
imminent tempests.
51. Amber, or gold colour clouds before sun-
setting, that have, as it were, gilded helms or bor-
ders, after the sun begins to be quite down,
foreshow fair, clear weather.
52. Grayish, and, as it were, clay-coloured
clouds, show that rain, with wind, are drawing on.
53. Some petty cloud showing itself suddenly,
having not been seen before, and all the sky clear
about it, especially if it be in the west, and about
noon, shows there is a storm a-coming.
54. Clouds and mists ascending, and going
upward, presage rain, and that this be done sud-
denly, so that they be, as it were, sucked up, they
presage rain, but if they fall, and reside in the
valleys, they presage fair weather.
55. A big cloud growing white, which the
ancients called a white tempest, in summer, is a
forerunner of small hail, like comfits, in winter,
snow.
56. A fair and clear autumn presages a windy
winter; a windy winter a rainy spring; a rainy
spring, a clear summer ; a clear summer, a windy
autumn. So that the year (as the proverb goes)
is seldom its own debtor, and the same order of
seasons will scarce happen two years together.
57. Fires upon the hearth, when they look
paler than they are accustomed, and make a mur-
muring noise within themselves, do presage tem-
pests. And if the flame rises, bending and turn-
ing, it signifies wind chiefly; and when the snuffs
of lamps and candles grow like mushrooms with
broad heads, it is a sign of rainy weather.
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
461
58. Coals shining briofht, and sparkling over-
much, siirnify wind.
59. When the superficies of the sea is calm and
sinoDth ii! the harbour, and yet murmurs within
itself, though it doth not swell, signifies wind.
60. The shores resounding in a calm, and the
sound of the sea itself, with a clear noise, and a
certain echo, heard plainer and further than ordi-
nary, presages winds.
61. If, in a calm and smooth sea, we espy froth
here and there, or white circles or bubbles of
water, they are prognostics of winds ; and if these
presages be very apparent, they foreshow rough
tempests.
62. If, in a rough sea, there appear a shining
froth, (which they call sea-lungs,) it foreshows a
lasting; tempest for many days.
63. If the sea swell silently, and rises higher
than ordinary within the harbour, or the tide come
in sooner than it uses to do, it foretells wind.
64. Sound from the hills, and the murmur of
woods growing louder, and a noise in open cham-
pion fields, portend wind. Also a prodigious
murmuring of the element, without thunder, for
the most part, presages winds.
65. Leaves and straws playing on the ground,
without any breath of wind that can be felt, and
the down of plants flying about, feathers swim-
ming and playing upon the water, signify that
(viad is near at hand.
66. Waterfowls flying at one another, and flying
together in flocks, especially sea-mews and gulls,
flying from the sea and lakes, and hastenino- to
the banks and shores, especially if they make a
noise and play upon dry land, they are prognos-
tics of winds, especially if they do so in the
morning.
67. But, contrariwise, sea-fowls going to the
water, and beating with their wings, chattering,
and bathing themselves, especially the crow, are
all presages of storms.
68. Duckers and ducks cleanse their feathers
with their bills against the wind ; but geese, with
their importunate crying, call for rain.
69. A hern flying high, so that it sometimes
flies over a low cloud, signifies wind ; but kites,
when they fly high, foreshow fair weather.
70. Crows, as it were, barking after a sobbing
manner, if they continue in it, do presage winds,
but if they catchingly swallow up their voice
again, or croak a long time together, it signifies
that we shall have some showers.
71. A chattering owl was thought by the
ancients to fnretell change of weather; if it were
fair, rain ; if cloudy, fair weather. But, with
us, the owl making a clear and free noise, for the
most part, signifies fair weather, especially in
winter.
72. Birds perching in trees, if they fly to their
nests, and give over feeding betimes, it presages
tempest. But the hern, standing, as it were, sad
and melancholy upon the san-I, or a crow walking
up and down, do presage wind only.
73. Dolphins playing in a calm sea are thought
to presage wind from that way they come ; and,
if they play and throw up water when the sea is
rough, they presage fair weather. And most
kinds of fishes switnming on the top of the water,
and sometimes leaping, do prognosticate wind.
74. Upon the approach of wind, swine will be
so terrified and disturbed, and use such strange
actions, that country people say that creature only
can see the wind, and peYceive the horridness of it.
75. A little before the wind spiders work and
spin carefully, as if they prudently forestalled the
time, knowing that in windy weather they cannot
work.
76. Before rain, the sound of bells is heard
further ofl"; but before wind it is heard more un-
equally, drawing near and going further off", as it
doth when the wind blows really.
77. Pliny aflirms for a certain, that three-leaved
grass creeps together, and raises its leaves against
a storm.
78. He says likewise, that vessels, which food
is put into, will leave a kind of sweat in cupboards,
which presage cruel storms.
Monition. Seeing rain and wind have almost a
common matter, and seeing always before rain
there is a certain condensation of the air, caused
by the new air received into the old, as it appears
by the sounding of the shores, and the high flight
of herns, and other things; and seeing the wind
likewise thickens, (but afterward in rain the air is
more drawn together, and in winds, contrariwise,
it is enlarged,) of necessity winds must have many
prognostics common with the rain. Whereof
advise with the prognostics of rain, under their
own title.
Imitations of Winds.
To the three-and-thirtieth article. Connexion.
If men could be persuaded not to fix their con-
templations overmuch upon a propounded subject,
and reject others, as it were, by-the-by ; and that
they would not subtilize about that subject in infi-
nitum, and for the most part unprofitably, they
would not be seized with such a stupor as they
are; but, transferring their thoughts, and dis-
coursing, would find many things at a distance,
which near at hand are hidden. So that, as in the
civil law, so we must likewise in the law of
nature, we must carefully proceed to semblable
things, and such as have a conformity between
the in.
1. Bellows with men are ^olus his bags, out
of which one may take as much as he needeth.
And likewise spaces l)etween, and openings ot
hills, and crooks of buildings, are but, as it were,
large bellows. Bellows are most useful either to
kindle fire or for musical organs. The manner of
the working of bellows is by sucking in of the air^
2q2
4fS2
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
to shun vacuity, (p'S t'.ey say,) and to send it out
by compression
2. We also n'"5 hand fans to make a wind, and
to cool, only by driving forward of the air softly.
3. The cooling of summer-rooms we spake of
in answer to the ninth article. There may other
more curious means be found, especially if the air
be drawn in somewhere after the manner of bel-
lows, and let out at another place ; but those
which are now in use have relation only to mere
compression.
4. The breath in man's microcosmos, and in
other animals, do very well agree with the winds
in the greater world ; for they are engendered by
humours, and alter with moisture as wind and
rain doth, and are dispersed and blow freer by a
greater heat. And from them that observation is
to be transferred to the winds, namely, that
breaths are engendered of matter that yields a
tenacious vapour, not easy to be dissolved ; as
beans, pulse, and fruits; which is so likewise in
greater winds.
5. In the distilling of vitriol and other minerals
which are most windy, they must have great and
large receptacles, otherwise they will break.
6. Wind composed of nitre and gunpowder,
breaking out and swelling, the flame doth not only
imitate but also exceed winds, which blow abroad
in the world, unless they be such as are made by
thunder.
7. But the forces of it are pressed in, as in hu-
man engines, as guns, mines, and powder-houses
set on fire. But it hath not yet been tried whe-
ther, in open air, a great heap of gunpowder set on
fire would raise a wind for certain hours, by the
commotion of the air.
8. There lies hidden a flatuous and expansive
spirit in quicksilver, so that it doth (in some
men's opinions) imitate gunpowder, and a little
of it mixed with gunpowder will make the powder
stronger. Likewise, the chymists speak the same
of gold, that being prepared some way, it will
break out dangerously like to thunder; but these
things I never tried.
./? greater Ohservation.
The motion of winds is for most things seen,
as it were, in a looking-glass, in the motion of
waters.
Great winds are inundations of the air, as we
see inundations of waters, both through the aug-
mentation of the quantity. As waters either de-
scend from above, or spring out of the earth, so
some winds are cast down, and some rise up. As
sometimes In rivers there are contrary motions,
one of the flowing of the sea, the other of the cur-
rent of the river, yet both become one motion, by
the prevailing of the flood ; so, when contrary
winds blow, the greater subdues the lesser. As
in the currents of the sea, and of some rivers, it
sometimes falls out, that the waves above go con-
trary to the waves below ; so in the air, A'hen
contrary winds blow together, one flies over the
other. As there are cataracts of rain within a nar-
row space, so there are whirlwinds. As waters,
however they go forward, yet, if they be troubled,
swell up into waves, sometimes ascending, grow
up into heaps, sometim-es descending, are as it
were furrowed ; so the winds do the same, but
only want the motion of gravity. There are also
other similitudes which may be observed and
gathered out of those things which have already
been inquired about.
Movable Rules concerning Winds.
Rules are either particular or general, both
with us are movable ; for, as yet, we have not
aflirmed any thing positively. Particular rules
may be taken and gathered almost out of every
article. We will cull out some general ones,
and those but a few, and add thereunto.
1. Wind is no other thing but moved air; but
the air itself moved either by a simple impulsion,
or by commixion of vapours.
2. Winds, by a simple impulsion, are caused
four ways, either by the natural motion of the
air, or by expansion of the air in the sun's ways ;
or by reception of air thorow a sudden cold, or
by the compression of the air by external bodies.
There may be also a fifth way, by the agitation
and concussion of the air by stars. But let these
things be a while silent, or be given ear unto with
a sparing belief.
3. Of winds which are made by immixion of
vapours, the chief cause is the overburdening
of the air by air newly made out of vapours,
whereby the mass of the air grows bigger, and
seeks new room.
4. A small quantity of air added, causeth a
great tumour of the air round about it, so that
new air out of the resolution of vapours doth
confer more to motion than to matter. But the great
body of wind consists in the former air, neither
doth the new air drive the old air before it, as if
they were several bodies, but being both com-
mixed, they desire larger room.
5. When any other beginning of motion con-
curs, besides the overburdening of the air, it is
an accessory which strengtheneth and increaseth
that principal, which is the reason that great and
violent winds do seldom rise, by the simple over-
burdening of the air.
6. Four things are accessory to the overbur
dening of the air. The breathing out of subter-
raneai places; the casting down out of (as it is
called) the middle region of the air; dissipation
made out of a cloud, and the mobility and acri-
mony of the exhalation itself.
7. The motion of the wind is for the most part
lateral ; but that which is made by mere over*
NATURAL HISTORY OF WINDS.
46H
bnrdrning, is so from the bpqrinninnr, that which
is made by the expiration of the earth, or reper-
cussion from above, a little while after, unless
the eruption, or precipitation, or reverberation,
he exceedingf violent.
8. Air will endure some compression before it
be overburdened, and bejrins to thrust away the
a(ij()inin<r air, by reason whereof all winds are a
liitle thicker than quiet and calm air.
it. Winds are allayed five ways, either by the
conjunction of vapours, or by their sublimation,
or by transportini»- them, or by their beinnr spent.
10. Vapours are conjoined, and so the air itself
becomes water, four ways, either by abundance
aggravating, or by colds condensing, or by con-
trary winds compelling, or by obstacles reverbe-
rating.
11. Both vapours and exhalations, but wind
very frequently from vapours. But there is this
difference, that winds which are made of vapours
do more easily incorporate themselves into pure
air, are sooner allayed, and are not so obstinate
as those winds which are engendered of exha-
lations.
12. The manner and several conditions of heat
have no less power in the generation of winds,
tiian the abundance or conditions of the matter.
13. The heat of the sun ought to be so pro-
portioned in the generation of winds, that it
may raise them, but not in such abundance as
that they gather into rain, nor in so small a
quantity, that they may be quite shaken off and
dispersed.
14. Winds blow from their nurseries, and the
nurseries being disposed several ways, divers
winds for the most part blow together, but the
strongest either quite overthrows, or turns into its
current the weakest.
15. Winds are engendered everywhere, from
the very superfices of the earth, up into the mid-
dle region of the air, the more frequent below,
but the stronger above.
16. The countries which have retaining or
trade winds, if they be warm, have them warmer
than according to the measure of their climate ;
if they be cold, they have them colder.
^ Human Map, or Optatives, with such things as
are next to them concerning Winds.
Optatives.
1. To frame and dispose sails of ships in such
a manner, that with less wind they might go a
greater journey ; a thing very useful to shorten
journeys by sea, and save charges.
Next. The next invention precisely in prac-
tice I have not as yet found ; yet, concerning that,
look upon our greater observations upon the six-
aiid-twentieth article.
•2. Optative. That we could make windmills
and their sails in such manner that they may
grind more with less wind. A thing very useful
for gain.
Next. Look concerning this upon our experi-
ments in the answer to the seven-and-twentieth
article, where the thing seems to be, as it were
done.
3. Optative. To foreknow when winds will
rise and allay. A thing useful for navigation and
for husbandry, especially for the choosing of
times for sea-fights.
Next. To this belong many of those things
which are observed in the inquisition, and espe-
cially in the answer to the two-and-thirliolh ar-
ticle. But a more carc-ful observation hereafter
(if any shall apply their mind to it) will give far
more exact prognostics, the cause of the winds
being already laid open.
4. Optative. To give judgment, and make prog-
nostics by winds, of other things, as, first, whether
they be continents or islands in the sea in any
place, or rather a free, open sea ; a thing very
useful for new and unknown voyages.
Next. The next is the observation concerning
constant and trade winds ; that which Columbus
seemed to make use of.
5. Optative. Likewise of the plenty or scarcity
of corn every year. A thing useful for gain, and
buying beforehand, and forestalling, as it is re-
ported of Thales, concerning monopoly of olives.
Next. To this belong some things specified
in the inquisition of winds, either hurtful or
shaking winds, and the times when they do hurt;
to the nine-and-tweniieth article.
6. Optative. Likewise concerning diseases and
plagues every year. A thing useful for the credit
of physicians, if they can foretell them, also for
the causes and cures of diseases, and some othei
civil considerations.
Next. To this likewise belong some things
set down in the inquisition to the thirtieth article.
Monition. Of predictions by wind concerning
corn, fruits, and diseases, look upon histories of
husbandry and physic.
7. Optative. How to raise winds and to allay
them.
Next. Concerning these things there are some
superstitious opinions, which do not seem worthy
to be inserted into a serious and severe natural
history. Nor can I think of any thing that is
near in this kind. The design may be tl'is, to
look thoroughly into and inquire about the nature
of the air; whether any thing may be found,
whereof a small quantity put into air may raise
and multiply the motion to dilatation, or contrac-
tion in the body of the air. For out of this (if
it might be done) would follow the raisings and
allayings of winds. Such as that experiment of
Pliny is, concerning vinegar thrown against the
whirlwinds, if it were true. Another design
might be, by letting forth of winds out of sub-
tcrraneal places ; if so be they should gather to-
464
HISTORY OF DENSITY AND RARITY.
gether anywhere in great abundance, as it is a
1,'ommon and approved opinion of the well in
Dalmatia ; but to know such places of prisons,
is very hard and difficult.
8. Optative. To work many fine, pleasant, and
wonderful conceits by the motion of winds.
Next. We have not leisure to enter into
consideration touching these things. Next to it
is that common report of the duels of winds.
Questionless many such pleasant things might
very w(^ll be found out, both for motions and
sounds of winds.
ENTRANCES
TO THE HISTORIES DESTINED FOR THE NEXT FIVE MONTHS.
THE HISTORY OF DENSITY AND RARITY.
THE ENTRANCE.
It is no marvel if nature be indebted to phi-
losophy and the sciences, seeing it was never yet
called upon to give an account, for there never
w.is any diligent and dispensatory inquisition
made of the quaintity of the matter, and how
that had been distributed into bodies, (in some
copiously, in others sparingly,) according to the
true, or at least truest accounts that hath been
truly received and approved of, that nothing is
taken away and lost, or added unto the universal
sum. Likewise that place hath been treated upon
by some, namely, how it can be loosened or con-
tracted without intermixion or vacuity, according
to more or less: but the natures of density and
rarity, some have referred to the abundance or
scarcity of the matter; another hath laughed at
the same ; the greatest part, following their au-
thor, to discuss and compose the whole matter by
that cold and weak distinction of act and power.
Those also who attribute them to the reasons of
matter, (which is the true opinion,) do neither
quite deprive the materia prima, or primary matter
of its quantum, or quantity, though for other
forms they will have it equal, but here do termi-
nate and end the matter, and seek no further, nor
do not perceive what followeth thereby; and j
either do not touch at all, or at least do not urge
home that whicVi hath a regard to infinites, and
is, as it were, the basis and ground of natural
philosophy.
First, therefore, that which is rightly set down
must not be movBd nor altered ; namely, that
there is no transaction made in any transmutation
of bodies, either from nothing, or to nothing; but
Uiat they are works of the same omnipotence, to
create out of nothing, and to reduce unto nothing,
and that by course of nature this can never be
done. Therefore the sum of the total matter
stands still whole, nothing is added, nothing is
diminished; yet that this sum is divided by por-
tions amongst the bodies is unquestionable, for
there can no man be so much beside himself
through any subtile abstractions, as to think that
there is as much matter in one vessel of water as
in ten vessels of water, nor likewise in one vessel
of air as much as in ten vessels of air; but in
the same body there is no question but that the
abundance of matter is multiplied according to
the measure of the body, in divers bodies it is
questionable. And if it be demonstrated that
one vessel of water turned into air will yield ten
vessels of air, (for we take this computation for a re-
ceived opinion, though that of a hundred-fold be the
truer,) it is well ; for now they are no more divers
bodies, water and air, but the same body of air
in ten vessels; but one vessel of air (as it was
but now granted) is but only the tenth part often
vessels. Therefore it cannot be contradicted but
that in one vessel of water there is ten times more
matter than in one vessel of air: theret'ore, if one
should aflirm, that one whole vessel of water
could be converted into one vessel of air, it were
as much as if one should affirm that something
could be reduced to nothing; forasmuch as one
tenth part of water would suffice to do it, and the
other nine parts must of necessity be reduced to
nothing; and, contrariwise, if one should affirm
that one vessel of air could be turned into a
vessel of water, it would be as much as if he
should say, that something could be created out
HISTORY OF SYMPATHY AND ANTIPATHY OF THINGS.
465
of nothing; for one vessel of air can attain and
reacii but unto the tenth part of a vessel of water,
and the other nine parts must needs proceed from
nothing. In the mean time we will plainly ac-
k)iowledge and confess, that to understand the
true means of the reasons and calculations of the
how much part of the quantum, or how much of
the matter which is in divers bodies, and by
wliat industry and sagacity one may be truly
informed thereof, is a high matter to be inquired;
but such as the great and largely extended profit
which will accrue thereby will largely recom-
pense. For to know the densities and rarities of
the body, and much more, how to procure and
effect the condensations and rarefactions, is of
great importance and moment both to contempla-
tive and to the practice. Seeing, then, it is a
thing (if any there be at all) merely fundamental
and universal, we must go carefully and prepared
about it, seeing that all philosophy without it is
loose and disjointed.
THE HISTORY OF HEAVY AND LIGHT.
THE ENTRANCE.
The motion of gravity and lightness, the an-
cients did illustrate with the name of natural
motion, for they saw no external efficient, nor no
apparent resistance; yea, the motion seemed
swifter in its progress. This contemplation, or
rather speech, they seasoned with that mathemati-
cal phantasy of the staying or stopping of heavy
things at the centre of the earth, (although the
earth should be bored quite thorow,) and that
scholastical invention of the motion of bodies to
their several places. Having laid, or set down
these things, supposing they had done their parts,
they looked no further, but only that which some
of them more carefully inquired after, namely, of
the centre of gravity in divers figures, and of
such things as are carried by water. Neither did
any of the modern authors do any thing worth
speaking of concerning this, only by adding some
few mechanical things, which they had also
wrested with their demonstrations; but, laying
many words aside, it is most certain that a body
cannot suffer but by a body ; neither can there be
any local motion made, unless it be solicited or
set forward, either by the parts of the body itself,
which is moved, or by the adjacent bodies, which
either touch it or are near unto it, or are, at least,
within the orb of its activity. So that Gilbertus
did not unknowingly introduce magnetic powers,
he also becoming a loadstone, namely, drawing
more things by those powers than he should have
done, and building a ship, as it were, of a round
piece of wood.
THE HISTORY OF THE SYMPATHY AND ANTIPATHY
OF THINGS.
THE ENTRANCE.
Stripe and amity in nature, are the eggers on
of motions, and the keys of works. Hence prO'
ceeds the union and dissension of bodies; hence
tlie mixion and separation of bodies; hence the
high and intimate impressions of virtues, and that
which they call joining of actives with passives ;
filially, they are the great and wonderful works
of nature. But this part of philosophy, namely,
of the sympathy and antii)athy of things, is most
Vol. III.— 5y
impure, which also they call natural magic, and.
(which always comes to pass,) where diligence
and care hath wanted, there hath hope remained ;
but the operation thereof in men is merely like
unto certain soporiferous medicines, which cast
one asleep, and do, moreover, send and infuse into
j him merry and pleasant dreams. For, first, it
; casts man's understanding into a sleep, represent-
^ ing unto him specifical properties and Ividdeii vir-
466
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
tues, whereby men awake no more, nor look after
the finding and searching out of true causes, but
acquiesce and lie still in these idle ways. Then
it insinuates an innumerable company of fictions,
like unto dreams ; and vain men hope to know
the nature by the outward shape and show, and,
by extrinsical similitudes, to discover inward
properties. Their practice, also, is very like unto
their inquiry; for the precepts of natural rnacric
are such as if men should be confident that they
could subdue the earth, and eat their bread with-
out the sweat of their brow, and to have power
over things by idle and easy applications of
bodies; and stil! they have in their mouths, and,
like undertakers or sureties, they call upon the
loadstone, and the consent which is between gold
and quicksilver; and some few thimjs of this
kind they allege for to prove other things, which
are not bound by any such like contract. But
God hath appointed the best of things to bo
inquired out, and be wrought by labours and en-
deavours. We will be a little more careful in
searching out the law of nature and the mutual
contracts of things, neither favouring miracles,
nor making too lowly and straitened an inqui-
sition.
THE HISTORY OF SULPHUR, MERCURY, AND SALT.
THE ENTRANCE.
This triple of principles hath been introduced
by the chymists, and, as concerning speculatives,
is of them which they bring the best invention.
The most subtile and acute of these, and those who
are most philosophical, will have the elements
to be earth, water, air, and the sky; and those
they will not have to he the matter of things, but
the matrixes in which the specifical seeds of
things do engender in the nature of a matrix.
But, for the materia prima, or primary matter,
(which scholars do lay down, as it were, naked
and inditTerent,) they substitute those three, sul-
phur, mercury, and salt; out of which all bodies
are gathered together and mixed. We do accept
of their words, but their opinions are not very
pound. Yet that doth not ill agree with their
opinion, namely, that we hold two of them, to
wit, sulphur and mercury, (taken according to
our sense,) to be very first and prime natures,
and most inward figurations of matter, and almost
chief amongst the forms of the first class. But
we may vary the words of sulphur and mercury,
ai\d name them otherwise, oily, waterish, fat,
crude, inflammable, not inflammable, or the like.
For these seem to be two very great things of
the three, and which possess and penetrate the
universe, for, amongst subterraneal things, they
are sulphur and mercury, as they are called ; in
the vegetable and animal kind, they are oil and
water; in the inferior spiritual things, they are
air and flame; in the heavenly, the body of a
star, and the pure sky; but of this last duality we
yet say nothing, though it seem to be a probable
deciphering; for, if they mean by salt the fixed
part of the body which is not resolved either into
flame or smoke, this belongeth to the inquisition
of fluid and determinate things. But if we take
salt according to the letter, without any paraboli-
cal meaning, salt is no third thing from sulphur
and mercury, but mixed of both, connexed into
one by an acrimonious and sharp spirit ; for all
manner of salt hath inflammable parts, and other
parts, also, which not only will not take fire, but
do also abhor it and fly from it: yet the inquisi-
tion of salt, being somewhat allied to the inqui-
sition of the other two, and exceeding useful as
being a tie and band of both natures, sulphureous
and salt, and the very rudiment of life itself, we
have thought fitting to comprehend it also within
this history and inquisition; but, in the mean
time, we give you notice, that those spiritual
things, air, water, stars, and sky, we do (as they
very well deserve it) reserve them for proper and
peculiar inquisitions, and here in this place to set
down the history only of tangible, that is to say,
mineral or vegetable sulphur and mercury.
THE HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
THE ENTRANCE.
The entrance to this history will be found in the history itself, which follows next in order.
HISTORY,
NATURAL AND EXPERIMENTAL,
OF
LIFE AND DEATH,
OR, OF
THE PROLONGATION OF LIFE.
TO THE READER.
I AM to give advertisement, that there came forth of late a translation of this book by an unknown
person, who, though he wished well to the propagating of his lordship's works, yet he was alto-
gether unacquainted with his lordship's style and manner of expressions, and so published a trans-
lation lame and defective in the whole. Whereupon, I thought fit to recommend the same to be
translated anew, by a more diligent and zealous pen, which hath since travelled in it; and, though
it still comes short of that lively and incomparable spirit and expression, which lived and died with
the author, yet, I dare avouch it to be much more warrantable and agreeable than the former. It is
true, this book was not intended to have been published in English ; but, seeing it hath already been
made free of that language, whatsoever benefit or delight may redound from it, I commend the same
to the courteous and judicious reader. W. R.
TO THE PRESENT AGE, AND POSTERITY.
Greeting:
Although I had ranked the History of Life and Death as the last amongst my six monthly
designations, yet I have thought fit, in respect of the prime use thereof, (in which the least loss of
time ought to be esteemed precious,) to invert that order, and to send it forth in the second place.
For I have hope, and wish, that it may conduce to a common good ; and that the nobler sort of phy-
sicians will advance their thoughts, and not employ their times wholly in the sordidness of cures,
neither be honoured for necessity only, but that they will become coadjutors and instruments of the
Divine omnipotence and clemency in prolonging and renewing the life of man; especially, seeino
I prescribe it to be done by safe, and convenient, and civil ways, though hitherto unassayed. For,
though we Christians do continually aspire and pant after the land of promise, yet it will be a token
of God's favour towards us in our journeyings through this world's wilderness, to have our shoes
and garments (I mean those of our frail bodies) little worn or impaired.
Fr. St. ALBA^a.
467
THE HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
THE PREFACE.
It is an ancient saying and complaint, that life is short and art long; wherefore t behoveth us,
who make it our chiefest aim to perfect arts, to take upon us the consideration of prolonging man's
life, God, the author of all truth and life, prospering our endeavours. For, though the life of man
be nothing else but a mass and accumulation of sins and sorrows, and they that look for an eternal
life set but light by a temporary : yet the continuation of works of charity ought not to be contemned,
even by us Christians. Besides, the beloved disciple of our Lord survived the other disciples; and
many of the fathers of the church, especially of the holy monks and hermits, were long-lived;
which shows, that this blessing of long life, so often promised in the ohl law, had less abatement
after our Saviour's days than other earthly blessings had ; but to esteem of this as tlie chiefest good,
we are but too prone. Only the inquiry is- difficult how to attain the same, and so much the rather,
because it is corrupted with false opinions and vain reports : for both those things, wliich the vulgai
physicians talk of, radical moisture and natural heat, are but mere fictions ; and the immoderate
j)-aises of chymical medicines first puff up with vain hopes, and then fail their admirers.
And as for that death which is caused by suffocation, putrefaction, and several diseases, we speak
not of it n'ow, for that pertains to a history of physic; but only of that death which comes by
a total decay of the body, and the inconcoction of old age. Nevertheless, the last act of death,
and the very extinguishing of life itself, which may so many ways be wrought outwardly and
inwardly, (which, notwithstanding, have, as it were, one common porch before it comes to the
point of death,) will be pertinent to be inquired of in this treatise; but we reserve that for the last
place.
Thai which may be repaired by degrees, without a total waste of the first stock, is potentially
eternal, as the vestal fire. Therefore, when physicians and philosophers saw that living creatures
were nourished and their bodies repaired, but that this did last only for a time, and afterwards came
old age, and in the end dissolution; they sought death in somewhat which could not properly be
repaired, supposing a radical moisture incapable of solid reparation, and which, from the first
infancy, received a spurious addition, but no true reparation, whereby it grew daily worse and worse,
and, in the end, brought the bad to none at all. This conceit of theirs was both ignorant and vain ;
for all things in living creatures are in their youth repaired entirely; nay, they are for a time
incieased in quantity, bettered in quality, so as the matter of reparation might be eternal, if the
manner of reparation did not fail. But this is tiie truth of it. There is in the declining of age an
unequal reparation; some parts are repaired easily, others with difficulty and to their loss; so as
from that time the bodies of men begin to endure the torments of Mezentius : that the living die in
the embraces of the dead; and the parts easily repairable, through their conjunction with the parts
hardly repairable, do decay; for the spirits, blood, flesh, and fat are, even after the decline of years,
easily repaired ; but the drier and more porous parts (as the membranes, all the tunicles, the sinews,
arteries, veins, bones, cartilages, most of the bowels, in a word, almost all the organical parts) are
hardly repairable, and to their loss. Now, these hardly repairable parts, when they come to their
office of repairing the other, which are easily repairable, finding themselves deprived of their
wanted ability and strength, cease to perform any longer their proper functions. By which means
It comes to pass, that in process of time the whole tends to dissolution; and even those very parts
which, in their own nature, are with much ease repairable, yet, through the decay of the organs
of reparation, can no more receive reparation, but decline, and in the end utterly fail. And the
cause of the termination of life is this, for that the spirits, like a gentle flame, c.ontirinally preying
upon bodies, conspiring with the outward air, which is ever sucking and drying of them, do, in
time, destroy the whole fabric of the body, as also the particular engines and organs thereof, and
make them unable for the work of reparation. These are the true ways of natural death, well and
faithfully to be revolved in our minds ; for he that knows not the way of nature, how can he succour
her or turn her about 1
Therefore, the inquisition ought to be twofold ; the one touching the consumption or depredation
of the body of man, the other touching the reparation and renovation of the same: to the end, that
468
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
409
the former may, as much as is possible, be forbidden and restrained, and the latter comforted. The
former of these pertains, especially, to the spirits and outward air, by which the depredation and
waste is committed ; the latter to the whole race of alimentation or nourishment, whereby the
renovation or restitution is made. And, as for the former part, touchinjr consumption, this hath
many things common with bodies inanimate, or without life. For such things as the native soirit
(which is in all tangible bodies, whether living or without life) and the ambient or external ail'
worketh upon bodies inanimate, the same it attemptelh upon animate or living bodies; although
the vital spirit superadded, doth partly break and bridle those operations, partly exalt, and advance
them wonderfully. For it is most manifest that inanimate bodies (most of them) will endure a
long time without any reparation ; but bodies animate, without food and reparation, suddenly fall
and are extinguished, as the fire is. So, then, our inquisition shall be double. Fimt, we will
consider the body of man as inanimate, and not repaired by nourishment. Secondly, as animate,
and repaired by nourishment. Thus, having prefaced these things, we come now to the topic-placea
of inquisition.
THE
PARTICULAR TOPIC-PLACES,
OR
ARTICLES OF INQUISITION TOUCHING LIFE AND DEATH.
1. First, inquire of nature, durable and not
durable, in bodies inanimate or without life, as
also in vegetables; but that not in a large or just
treatise, but as in a brief or summary only.
2. Also inquire diligently of desiccation, are-
faction, and consumption of bodies inanimate, and
of vegetables, and of the ways and processes by
which they are done : and, further, of inhibiting
and delaying of desiccation, arefaction, and con-
sumption, and of the conservation of bodies in
their proper state : and, again, of the intencration,
emollition, and recovery of bodies to their former
freshness, after they be once dried and withered.
Neither need the inquisition touching these
things to be full or exact, seeing they pertain
rather to their proper title of nature durable ; see-
ing also, they are not principles in this inquisition,
but serve only to give light to the prolongation
and instauration of life in living creatures. In
which (as was said before) the same things come
to pass, but in a particular manner. So, ("romthe
inquisition touching bodies inanimate, and vegeta-
bles, let the inquisition pass on to other living
creatures besides man.
3. Inquire touching the length and shortness
of life in living creatures, with the due circum-
stances which make most for their long or short
lives.
4. But because the duration of bodies is two-
fold, one in identity, or the selfsame substance,
the other by a renovation or reparation ; whereof
the former hath place only in bodies inanimate,
the latter in vegetables and living creatures, and
is perfected by alimentation or nourishment;
therefore, it will be fit to inquire of alimentation,
and of the ways and progresses thereof; yet this
not exactly, (because it pertains properly to the
titles of assimilation and alimentation,) but, as
the rest, in progress only.
From the inquisition touching living creatures
and bodies repaired by nourishment, pass on to
the inquisition touching man. And, now being
come to the principal subject of inquisition, the
inquisition ought to be, in all points, more pre-
cise and accurate.
5. Inquire touching the length and shortness
of life in men, according to the ages of the world,
the several regions, climates, and places of their
nativity and habitation.
6. Inquire touching the length and shortness
of life in men, according to their races and fami-
lies, as if it were a thing hereditary ; also, accord-
ing to their complexions, constitutions, and habits
of body, their statures, the manner and time of
their growth, and the making and composition of
their members.
7. Inquire touching the length and shortness
of life in men, according to the time of their
nativity, but so as you omit, for the present, all
astrological observations, and the figrnreg of
2R
470
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
heaven under which they were born, only insist
upon the vulgar and manifest observations ; as,
whether they were born in the seventh, eighth,
ninth, or tenth month ; also, whether by night or
by day, and in what month of the year.
8. Inquire touching the length and shortness
of life in men, according to their fare, diet, govern-
ment of their life, exercises, and the like. For,
as for the air in which men live, and make their
abode, we account that proper to be inquired of
in the abovesaid article, touching the places of
their habitation.
9. Inquire touching the length and shortness
of life in men, according to their studies, their
several courses of life, the affections of the mind,
and divers accidents befalling them.
10. Inquire, apart, touching those medicines
which are thought to prolong life.
11. Inquire touching the signs and prognostics
of long and short life, not those which betoken
death at hand, (for they belong to a history of
physic,) but those which are seen, and may be
observed even in health, whether they be physi-
ognomical signs or any other.
Hitherto have been propounded inquisitions
touching length and shortness of life, besides the
rules of art, and in a confused manner ; now we
think to add some, which shall be more art-like,
and tending to practice, under the name of inten-
tions. Those intentions are generally three ; as
for the particular distributions of them, we will
propound them when we come to the inquisition
itself. The three general intentions are the for-
bidding of waste and consumption, the perfecting
of reparation, and^the renewing of oldness.
12. Inquire touching those things which con-
serve and exempt the body of man from arefaction
and consumption, at least, which put off" and pro-
tract the inclination thereunto.
13. Inquire touching those things which pertain
to the whole process of alimentation, (by which
the body of man is repaired,) that it may be
good, and with the best improvement.
14. Inquire touching those things which purge
out the old matter, and supply with new ; as also
which do intenerate and moisten those parts
which are already dried and hardened.
But, because it will be hard to know the ways
of death, unless we search out and discover the
seat or house, or rather den of death, it will be
convenient to make inquisition of this thing ; yet
not of every kind of death, but of those deaths
which are caused by want and indigence of
nourishment, not by violence, for they are those
deaths only which pertain to a decay of nature,
and mere old age.
15. Inquire touching the point of death, and
the porches of death leading thereunto from all
parts, so as that death be caused by a decay of
nature, and not by violence.
IG. I^astly, because it is behoveful to know
the character and form of old age, which will
then be best done if you make a collection of all
the differences, both in the state and functions of
the body, betwixt youth and old age, that by them
you may observe what it is that produceth such
manifold effects ; let not this inquisition be
omitted.
17. Inquire diligently touching the differences
in the state of the body, and the faculties of the
mind in youth and old age ; and whether there
be any that remain the same, without alteration or
abatement, in old age.
Nature durable, and not durable.
To the first article. The history.
1. Metals are of that long lasting, that men
cannot trace the beginnings of them ; and when
they do decay, they decay through rust, not
through perspiration into air ; yet gold decays
neither way.
2. Quicksilver, though it be a humid and fluid
body, and easily made volatile by fire, yet, (as
we have observed,) by age alone, without fire, it
neither wasteth nor gathereth rust.
3 Stones, especially the harder sort of them,
and many other fossils, are of long lasting, and
that though they be exposed to the open air;
much more if they be buried in the earth. Not-
withstanding, stones gather a kind of nitre, which
is to them instead of rust. Precious stones and
crystals exceed metals in long lasting; but then
they grow dimmer and less orient if they be very
old.
4. It is observed that stones lying towards the
north do sooner decay with age than those that
lie towards the south ; and that appears manifestly
in pyramids, and churches, and other ancient
buildings; contrariwise, in iron, that exposed to
the south, gathers rust sooner, and that to the
north later; as may be seen in the iron bars of
windows, and no marvel, seeing in all putrefac-
tion (as rust is) moisture hastens dissolutions ;
in all simple arefaction, dryness.
5. In vegetables, (we speak of such as are fell-
ed, not growing,) the stocks or bodies of harder
trees, and the timber made of them, last divers
ages. But then there is diff'erence in the bodies
of trees: some trees are, in a manner, spongy, as
the elder, in which the pith in the midst is soft,
and the outward part harder; but in timber trees,
as the oak, the inner part (which they call heart
of oak) lasteth longer.
6. The leaves, and flowers, and stalks of plants
are but of short lasting, but dissolve into dust,
unless they putrefy; the roots are more durable.
7. The bones of living creatures last long, as
we may see it of men's bones in charnel-houses;
horns, also, last very long; so do teeth, as it is
seen in ivory, and the sea-horse teeth.
8. Hides, also, and skins, endure very long, as
is evident in old parchment books: paper, like-
HISTOllY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
471
wise will l;ist many ages, though not so long as
parchment.
9. Such things as have passed the fire last
long, as glass and bricks ; likewise flesh and
fruits that have passed the fire, last longer than
raw; and that not only because the baking of
the fire ibrhids putrefaction, but also because
the watery humour being drawn forth, the oily
humour supports itself the longer.
10. Water of all liqijors is soonest drunk up by
air; contrariwise, oil latest; which we may see
not only in the liquors themselves, but in the
liquors mixed with other bodies; for paper wet
with water, and so getting some degree of trans-
parency, will soon after wax white, and lose the
transparency again, the watery vapour exhaling;
but oiled paper will keep the transparency long,
the oil not being apt to exhale ; and, therefore, they
that counterfeit men's hands will lay the oiled
paper upon the writing they mean to counterfeit,
and then essay to draw the lines.
11. Gums, all of them, last very long; the like
do wax and honey.
12. But the equal or unequal use of things
conduceth no less to long lasting, or short lasting,
than the things themselves; for timber, and
stones, and other bodies standing continually in
the water, or continually in the air, last longer
than if they were sometimes wet, sometimes dry ;
and so stones continue longer if they be laid to-
wards the same coast of heaven in the building
that they lay in the mine. The same is of plants
removed, if they be coasted just as they were
before.
Observations.
(1.) Let this be laid for a foundation, which is
most sure, that there is in every tangible body a
spirit, or body pneumatical, enclosed and covered
with the tangible parts ; and that from this spirit
is the beginning of all dissolution and consump-
tion, so as the antidote against them is the de-
taining of this spirit.
(2.) This spirit is detained two ways ; either
by a straight enclosure, as it were, in a prison,
or by a kind of free and voluntary detention.
Again, this voluntary stay is persuaded two ways :
either if the spirit itself be not too movable or
eager to depart, or if the external air importune it
not too much to come forth. So then, two sorts
of substances are durable, hard substances and
oily : hard substance binds in the spirits close ;
oily, partly enticeth the spirit to stay, partly is of
that nature that it is not importuned by air ; for
air is consubstantial to water, and flame to oil ;
and touching nature durable and not durable in
bodies inanimate, thus much.
The History.
13. Herbs of the colder sort die yearly, both in
root and stalk, as lettuce, purslane; also wheat,
and all kind of corn; yet there are some cold
herbs which will last three or four years, as the
violet, strawberry, burnet, primrose, and sorrel.
But borage and bugloss, which seem so alike
when they are alive, differ in their deaths; for
borage will last but one year, bugloss will last
more.
14. But many hot herbs bear their age and
years better ; hyssop, thyme, savory, pot marjo-
ram, balm, wormwood, germander, sage, and the
like. Fennel dies yearly in the stalk, buds again
from the root; but pulse and sweet marjoram can
better endure age than winter, for being set in a
very warm place and well fenced, they will live
more than one year. It is known that a knot of
hyssop twice a year shorn hath continued forty
years.
15. Bushes and shrubs live threescore years,
and some double as much. A vine may attain to
threescore years, and continue fruitful in the old
age. Rosemary well placed will come also to
threescore years ; but whitethorn and ivy endure
above a hundred years. As for the bramble, the
age thereof is not certainly known, because bow-
ing the head to the ground it gets new roots, so as
you cannot distinguish the old from the new.
16. Amongst great trees the longest livers are
the oak, the holm, wild ash, the elm, the beech
tree, the chestnut, the plane tree, ficus ruminalis,
the lote tree, the wild olive, the palm tree, and the
mulberry tree. Of these some have come to the
age of eight hundred years ; but the least livers
of them do attain to two hundred.
17. But trees odorate, or that have sweet woods,
and trees rozenny, last longer in their woods or
timber than those abovesaid, but they are not so
long-lived as the cypress tree, maple, pine, box,
juniper. The cedar being borne out by the vast-
ness of his body, lives well near as long as the
former.
18. The ash, fertile and forward in bearing,
reacheth to a hundred years and somewhat better;
which also the birch, maple, and service tree
sometimes do; but the poplar, lime tree, willow,
and that which they call the sycamore, and walnut
tree, live not so long.
19. The apple tree, pear tree, plum tree, pome-
granate tree, citron tree, medlar tree, black cherry
tree, cherry tree, may attain to fifty or sixty years ;
especially if they be cleansed from the moss
wherewith some of them are clothed.
20. Generally greatness of body in trees, if
other things be equal, hath some congruity with
length of life; so hath hardness of substance ;
and trees bearing mast or nuts are commonly
longer livers than trees bearing fruit or berries;
likewise trees putting forth their leaves late, and
shedding them late again, live longer than those
that are early either in leaves or fruit; the like is
of wild trees in comparison of orchard trees.
And, lastly, in the same kind trees that bear a
sour fruit outlive those that bear a sweet frv.if.
472
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
^n Observation.
Aristotle noted well the difFerence between
plants and living creatures, in respect of their
nourishment and reparation: namely, that the bo-
dies of living creati)-es are confined within certain
bounds, and that after they become to their full
growth, they are continued and preserved by nou-
rishment, but they put forth nothing new except
hair and nails, which are counted for no better
than excrements; so as the juice of living crea-
tures must of necessity sooner wax old ; but in
trees, which put forth yearly new boughs, new-
shoots, new leaves, and new fruits, it comes to
pass that all these parts in trees are once a year
young and renewed. Now, it being so, that what-
soever is fresh and young draws the nourishment
more lively and cheerfully to it than that which
is decayed and old, it happens withal, that the
stock and body of the tree, through which the sap
passeth to the branches, is refreshed and cheered
with a more bountiful and vigorous nourishment
in the passage than otherwise it would have been.
And this appears manifest (though Aristotle noted
it not, neither hath he expressed these things so
clearly and perspicuously) in hedges, copses, and
pollards, when the plashing, shedding, or lop-
ping, comforteth the old stem or stock, and
maketh it more flourishing and long-lived.
Desiccation, Prohibiting of Desiccation, and Intene-
ration of that which is desiccated and dried.
To the second article. The History.
1. Fire and strong heats dry some things and
melt others.
"Limus lit hie durescit, et hccc ut cera liquescit,
Uno eodemque igne 1"
How this clay is hardened, and how this wax
is melted, with one and the same thing, fire 1 It
drieth earth, stones, wood, cloth, and skins, and
whatsoever is not liquifiable ; and it melteth
metals, wax, gums, butter, tallow, and the like.
2. Notwithstanding, even in those things which
the fire melteth, if it be very vehement and con-
tinueth, it doth at last dry them. For metal in a
strong fire, (gold only excepted,) the volatile part
being gone forth, will become less ponderous and
more brittle ; and those oily and fat substances
in the like fire will burn up, and be dried and
parched.
3. Air, especially open air, doth manifestly
dry, but not melt; as highways, and the upper
part of the earth, moistened with showers, are
dried; linen clothes washed, if they be hanged
out in the air, are likewise dried ; herbs, and
leaves, and flowers, laid forth in the shade, are
dried. But much more suddenly doth the air
this, if it be either enlightened with the sun-
Seams, (so that they cause no putrefaction,) or
if the air be stirred, as when the wind bloweth,
OT in rooms open on all sides.
4. Age most of all, but yet slowest of all,
drieth ; as in all bodies which (if they be not
prevented by putrefaction) are dry with age. But
age is nothing of itself, being only the nieasure
of time; that which causeth the effect is the
native spirit of bodies, which sucketh up the
moisture of the body, and then, together with it,
ilieth forth, and the air ambient, wliich multi-
plieih itself upon the native spirits and juices of
the body, and preyeth upon them.
5. Cold, of all things, 'most properly drieth;
for drying is not caused but by contraction ; now,
contraction is the proper work of cold. But, be-
cause we men have heat in a high degree, namely,
that of fire, but cold in a very low degree, no
other than that of winter, or perhaps of ice, or
of snow, or of nitre; therefore, the drying caused
by cold is but weak, and easily resolved. Not-
withstanding we see the surface of the earth to
be more dried by frost or by March winds than
by the sun, seeing the same wind both licketh
up the moisture, and affecteth with coldness.
6. Smoke is a drier, as in bacon and neats'
tongues, which are hanged up in the chimneys;
and perfumes of olibanum or lignum aloes, and
the like, dry the brain and cure catarrhs.
7. Salt, after some reasonable continuance,
drieth not only on the outside, but in the inside
also, as in fiesh and fish salted, which, if they
have continued any long time, have a manifest
hardness within.
8. Hot gums applied to the skin dry and
wrinkle it, and some astringent waters also do
the same.
9. Spirit of strong waters imitateth the fire in
drying, for it will both poach an egg put into it
and toast bread.
10. Powders dry like sponges by drinking up
the moisture, as it is in sand thrown upon lines
new written; also, smoothness and politeness of
bodies (which suffer not the vapour of moisture
to go in by the pores) dry by accident, because
it exposeth it to the air, as it is seen in precious
stones, looking-glasses, a».d blades of swords,
upon which if you breathe, you shall see at first
a little mist, but soon after it vanisheth like a
cloud. And thus much for desiccation or drying.
11. They use at this day, in the east parts of
Germany, garners in vaults under ground, wherein
they keep wheat and other grains, laying a good
quantity of straw both under the grains and about
them, to save them from the dampness of the
vault, by which device they keep their grains
twenty or thirty years. And this doth not only
preserve them from fustiness, but (that which
pertains more to the present inquisition) preserves
them also in that greenness that they are fit and
serviceable to make bread. The same is reported
to have been in use in Cappadocia and Thracia,
and some parts of Spain.
12. The placing of garners on the tops of
HISTOJIY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
473
houses, A^ith windows towards the east and
nortli, is very comtnodious. Some, also, make
•two sollars, an upper and a lower, and the upper
sollar halh a liole in it, thronjrh whicli the grain
cnnliiiually descendeth, like sand in an liour-
jrlass, and after a few days they throw it up again
with shovels, that so it may he in continual mo-
tion Now, it is to be noted that this doth not
only prevent the Aistiness, but conserveth the
greeimess, and slacketh the desiccation of it.
The cause is that which we noted before; that
the discharging of the watery humour, which is
quickened by the motion and the winds, preserves
the oily humour in his being, which otherwise
would fly out together with the watery humour.
Also, in some mountains, where the air is very
pure, dead carcasses may be kept for a good
while without any great decay.
13. Fruits, as pomegranates, citrons, apples,
pears, and the like ; also, flowers, as roses and
lilies, may be kept a long time in earthen vessels
close stopped ; howsoever, they are not free from
the injuries of the outward air, which will affect
them with his unequal temper through the sides
of the vessel, as it is manifest in heat and cold.
'I'herefore, it will be good to stop tlie mouths of
the vessels carefully, and to bury them within
the earth ; and it will be as good not to bury
them in the earth, but to sink them in the water,
so as the place be shady, as in wells or cisterns
placed within doors; but those that be sunk in
water will do better in glass vessels than in
earthen.
14. Generally, those things which are kept in
the earth, or in vaults under ground, or in the
bottom of a well, will preserve their freshness
lonirer than those things that are kept above
ground.
15. They say it hath been observed, that in
conservatories of snow, (whether they were in
mountains, in natural pits, or in wells made by
art for that purpose,) an apple, or chestnut, or nut,
by chance falling in, after many months, when
the snow hath melted, hath been found in the
snow as fresh and fair as if it had been gathered
the day before.
IG. Country people keep clusters of grapes in
meal, which, though it makes them less pleasant
to the taste, yet it preserves their moisture and
freshness. Also the harder sort of fruits may be
kept long, not only in meal, but also in sawdust
and in heaps of corn.
17. There is an opinion held, bodies may be
preserved fresh in liquors of their own kind, as in
their proper menstrua, as to keep grapes in wine,
olives in oil.
18. Pomegranates and quinces are kept long,
being lightly dipped in sea water or salt water,
and some after taken out again, and then dried in
the open air, so it be in tlie shade.
in. Bodies put in wine, oil, or the lees of
Vol. 111.— 60
oil, keep long, much more in honey or spirit
of wine, but most of all, as some say, in quick-
silver.
20. Fruits enclosed in wax, pitch, plaster,
paste, or any the like case or covering, keep green
very long.
21. It is manifest that flies, spiders, ants, or the
like small creatures, falling by chance into amber,
or the gums of trees, and so finding a burial in
them, do never after corrupt or rot, although they
be soft and tender bodies.
22. Grapes are kept long by being hanged up
in bunches; the same is of other fruits. For
there is a twofold commodity of this thing; the
one, that they are kept without pressing or
bruising, which they must needs suffer, if they
were laid upon any hard substance; the other,
that the air doth encompass them on every side
alike.
23. It is observed that putrefaction, no less than
desiccation in vegetables, doth not begin in every
part alike, but chiefly in that part where, being
alive, it did attract nourishment. Therefore some
advise to cover the stalks of apples or other fruits
with wax or pitch.
21. Great wicks of candles or lamps do sooner
consume the tallow or oil than lesser wicks ; also
wicks of cotton sooner than those of rush or
straw, or small twigs; and in staves of torches,
those of juniper or fir sooner than those of ash;
likewise flame moved and fanned with the wind
sooner than that which is still. And, therefore,
candles set in a lantern will last longer than in
the open air. There is a tradition, that lamps set
in sepulchres will last an incredible time.
25. The nature also and preparation of the nou-
rishment conduceth no less to the lasting of lamps
and candles, than the nature of the flame; for
wax will last longer than tallow, and tallow
a little wet longer than tallow dry, and wax
candles old made longer than wax candles new
made.
26. Trees, if you stir the earth about tiieirroot
every^ year, will continue less time; if once in
four or perhaps in ten years, much longer; also
cutting off the suckers and young shoots will
make them live the longer; but dunging them,
or laying of marl about their roots, or much wa-
tering them, adds to their fertility, but cuts off
from their long lasting. And thus much touching
the prohibiting of desiccation or consumption.
27. The inteneration or making tender of that
which is dried (which is the chief matter) af-
fords but a small number of experiments. And
therefore some few experiments which are found
in living creatures, and also in man, shall be
joined together.
28. Bands of willow, wherewith they use to
I bind trees, laid in water, grow more flexible;
likewise they put boughs of birch ^the ends of
them) in earthen pots filled with water, to keep
3r3
474
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
them from withering; and bowls cleft with dry-
ness steeped in water close again. i
29. Boots grown hard and obstinate with age, !
by greasing them before the fire with tallow, wax
soft, or being only held before the fire, get some |
softness. Bladders and parchments hardened also
become tender with warm water mixed with tallow
or any fat thing, but much the better if they be a
little chafed.
30. Trees grown very old, that have stood long
without any culture, by digging and opening the
earth about the roots of them, seem to grow
young again, and put forth young branches.
31. Old draught oxen worn out with labour,
being taken from the yoke, and put into fresh
pasture, will get young and tender flesh again;
insomuch that they will eat as fresh and tender
as a steer.
32. A strict emaciating diet of guiacum, bis-
cuit, and the like, (wherewith they use to cure
the French pox, old catarrhs, and some kind of
dropsies,) doth first bring men to great poverty
and leanness, by wasting the juices and humours
of the body, which after they begin to be repaired
again seem manifestly more vigorous and young.
Nay, and I am of opinion, that emaciating diseases
afterwards well cured have advanced many in the
way of long life.
Observations.
1. Men see clearly, like owls, in the night of
their own notions, but in experience, as in the
daylight, they wink, and are but half-sighted.
They speak much of the elementary quality of
siccity or dryness, and of things desiccating, and
of the natural periods of bodies in which they are
corrupted and consumed ; but meanwhile, either
in the beginnings, or middle passages, or last
acts of desiccation and consumption, they observe
nothing that is of moment.
2. Desiccation or consumption in the process
thereof is finished by three actions ; and all these
(as was said before) have their original from the
native spirit of bodies.
3. The first action is the attenuation of the
moisture into spirit; the second is, the issuing
forth or flight of the spirit; the third is, the
contraction of the grosser parts of the body
immediately after the spirit issued forth. And
this last is, that desiccation and induration,
which we chiefly handle, the former two con-
sume only.
4. Touching attenuation, the matter is manifest :
for the spirit which is enclosed in every tangible
body forgets not its nature, but whatsoever it
meets withal in the body (in which it is enclosed)
that it can digest and master, and turn into itself,
that it plainly alters and subdues, and multiplies
itaelf upon it, and begets new spirit. And this
evicted by one proof, instead of many ; for that
those things which are thoroughly dried are
lessened in their weight, and become hollow,
porous, and resounding from within. Now it is
most certain, that the inward spirit of any thing
confers nothing to the weight, but rather lightens
it; and therefore it must needs be, that the same
spirit hath turned into it the moisture and juice of
the body which weighed before, by which means
the weight is lessened. And this is the first ac-
tion, the attenuation of the moisture and convert-
ing it into spirit.
5. The second action, which is the issuing
forth or flight of the spirit, is as manifest also.
For that issuing forth, when it is in throngs, is
apparent even to the sense, in vapours to the
sight, in odours to the smelling; but if it issueth
forth slowly, (as when a thing is decayed by age,)
then it is not apparent to the sense, but the mat-
ter is the same. Again, where composure of the
body is either so strait, or so tenacious, that the
spirit can find no pores or passages by which to
depart, then in the striving to gel out, it drives
before it the grosser parts of the body, and pro-
trudes them beyond the superfices or surface of
the body; as it is in the rust of metals, and
mould of all fat things. And this is the second
action, the issuing forth or flight of the spirit.
6. The third action is somewhat more obscure,
but full as certain ; that is, the contraction of
the grosser parts after the spirit issued forth.
And this appears, first, in that bodies after the
spirit issued forth do manifestly shrink, and fill a
less room, as it is in the kernels of nuts, which
after they are dried, are too little for the shells;
and in beams and planchers of houses, which at
first lay close together, but after they are dried
give , and likewise in bowls, which through
drought grow full of crannies, the parts of the
bowl contracting themselves together, and after
contraction must needs be empty spaces. Second-
ly, it appears by the wrinkles of bodies dried ;
for the endeavour of contracting itself is such,
that by the contraction it brings the parts nearer
together, and so lifts them up ; for whatsoever is
contracted on the sides, is lifted up in the midst:
and this is to be seen in papers and old parch-
ments, and in the skins of living creatures, and
in the coats of soft cheeses, all which with age
gather wrinkles. Thirdly, this contraction shows
itself most in those things which by heat are not
only wrinkled, but rufliled and plighted, and, as it
were, rolled together, as it is in papers, and
parchments, and leaves, brought near the fire;
for contraction by age, which is more slow, com
monly causeth wrinkles, but contraction by the
fire, which is more speedy, causeth plighting.
Now in most things where it comes not lo
wrinkling or plighting, there is simple contrac-
tion, and angustiation or straitening, and indJia.
tion or hardening, and desiccation, as was showed
in the first place. But if the issuing forth of the
spirit, and absumption or waste of the moisture
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
475
be 80 great that there is not left body sufficient to
unite and contract itself, then of necessity con-
traction must cease, and the body become putrid,
and nothing else but a little dust cleaving to-
gether, which with a light touch is dispersed,
and falleth asunder; as it is in bodies that are
rotten, and in paper burnt, and linen made into
tinder, and carcasses embalmed after many ages.
And ibis is the third action, the contraction of the
grosser parts after the spirit issueth forth.
7. It is to be noted, that fire and heat dry only
by accident, for their proper work is to attenuate
and dilate the spirit and moisture, and then it
follows by accident that the other parts should con-
tract themselves, either for tiie ilyinir of vacuum
alone, or for some other motion witlial, whereof
we now speak not.
8. It is certain that putrefaction taketh its
orijrinal from the native spirit, no less than are-
faction, but it goeth on a far different way ; for in
putrefaction, the spirit is not simply vapoured
forth, l)ut being detained in part, works strange
garboils, and the grosser parts are not so much
locally contracted, as they congregate themselves
to parts of the same nature.
Length and Shortness of Life in living Creatures.
To the first article. The history.
Touching the length and shortness of life in
living creatures, the information which may be
had is but slender, observation is negligent, and
tradition fabulous. In tame creatures their de-
generate life corrupteth them, in wild creatures
their exposing to all weathers often intercepteth
them; neither do those things which may seem
concomitants give any furtherance to this informa-
tion, (the greatness of their bodies, their time of
bearing In the womb, the number of their young
ones, the time of their growth, and the rest,) in
regard that these things are intermixed, and some-
times they concur, sometimes they sever.
1. Man's age (as far as can be gathered by any
certain narration) doth exceed the age of all other
living creatures, except it be of a very few only,
and the concomitants in him are very equally dis-
posed, his stature and proportion large, his bear-
ing in the womb nine months, his fruit commonly
one at a birth, his puberty at the age of fourteen
years, his time of growing till twenty.
2. The elephant, by undoubted relation, ex-
ceeds the ordinary race of man's lite, but his
bearing in the womb the space of ten years is
fabulous ; of two years, or at least above one,
is certain. Now, his bulk is great, his time of
growth until the thirtieth year, his teeth exceed-
ing hard, neither hath it been observed that his
blood is the coldest of all creatures ; his age hath
sometimes reached to two hundred years. j
3. Lions are accounted long livers, because \
many of them have been found toothless, a sign \
not 80 certain, for that may be caused by their
strong breath.
4. The bear is a great sleeper, a dull beast, and
given to ease, and yet not noted for long life;
nay, he has this sign of short life, that his bear-
ing in the womb is but short, scarce full forty
days.
5. The fox seems to be well disposed in many
things for long life; he is well skinned, feeds on
flesh, lives in dens, and yet he is noted not to
have that property. Certainly he is a kind of
dog, and that kind is but short-lived.
6. The camel is a long liver, a lean creature,
and sinewy; so that he doth ordinarily attain to
nfty, and sometimes to a hundred years.
7. The horse lives but to a moderate age, scarce
to forty years, his ordinary period is twenty years,
but, perhaps, he is beholden for this shortness of
life to man; for we have now no horses of the
sun that live freely, and at pleasure, in good
pastures; notwithstanding, the horse grows till
he be six years old, and is able for generation in
his old age. Besides, the mare goeth longer with
her young one than a woman, and brings forth
two at a burden more rarely. The ass lives
commonly to the horse's age, but the mule out-
lives them both.
8. The hart is famous amongst men for long
life, yet not upon any relation that is undoubted.
They tell of a certain hart that was found with a
collar about his neck, and that collar hidden with
fat. The long life of the hart is the less credible,
because he comes to his perfection at the fifth
year, and not long after his horns (which he
siieds and renews yearly) grow more narrow at
the root, and less branched.
9. The dog is but a short liver, he exceeds not
the age of twenty years, and, for the most part,
lives not to fourteen years; a creature of the
hottest temper, and living in extremes, for he is
commonly either in vehement motion, or sleeping ;
besides, the bitch bringeth forth many at a burden,
and goeth nine weeks.
10. The ox likewise, for the greatness of his
body and strength, is but a short liver, about some
sixteen years, and the males live longer than the
females: notwithstanding, they bear usually but
one at a burden, and go nine months; a creature
dull, fleshy, and soon fatted, and living only upon
herby substances, without grain.
1 1. 'I'he sheep seldom lives to ten years, though
he be a creature of a moderate size, and excellent-
ly clad ; and, that which may seem a wonder,
being a creature with so little a gall, vet he hath
the most curled coat of any other, for the hair of
no creature is so much curled as wool is. The
rams generate not before the third year, and con-
tinue able for generation until the eighth. The
ewes bear young as long as they live. The sheep
is a diseased creature, and rarely lives to his full
476
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
12. The goat lives to the same age with the
liheep, and is not much unlike in other things,
though he be a creature more nimble, and of
somewhat a firmer flesh, and so should be longer
lived ; but then he is much more lascivious, and
that shortens his life.
13. The sow lives to fifteen years, sometimes
to twenty; and though it be a creature of the
moistest flesh, yet that seems to make nothing to
length of life. Of the wild boar, or sow, we
have nothing certain.
14. The cat's age is betwixt six and ten years ;
a creature nimble and full of spirit, whose seed
(as jElian reports) burneth the female ; where-
upon, it is said, that the cat conceives with pain,
and brings forth with ease. A creature ravenous
in eating, rather swallowing down his meat
whole than feeding.
15. Hares and coneys attain scarce to seven
years, being both creatures generative, and with
young ones of several conceptions in their bellies.
In this they are unlike, that the coney lives under
ground, and the hare above ground. And, again,
that the hare is of a more duskish flesh.
16. Birds, for the size of their bodies, are much
lesser than beasts ; for an eagle or swan is but a
small thing in comparison of an ox or horse, and
so is an ostrich to an elephant.
17. Birds are excellently well clad, for feathers,
for warmth and close sitting to the body, exceed
wool and hairs.
18. Birds, though they hatch many young ones
together, yet they bear them not all in their bodies
at once, but lay their eggs by turns, whereby
their fruit hath the more plentiful nourishment
whilst it is in their bodies.
19. Birds chew little or nothing, but their meat
is found whole in their crops, notwithstanding,
they will break the shells of fruit and pick out
the kernels; they are thought to be of a very hot
and strong concoction.
20. The motion of birds in their flying, is a
mixed motion, consisting of a moving of the
limbs, and of a kind of carriage, which is the
most wholesome kind of exercise.
21. Aristotle noted well touching the genera-
tion of birds, (but he transferred it ill to other
living creatures,) that the seed of the male con-
fers less to generation than the female, but that it
rather atfords activity than matter ; so that fruit-
ful eggs and unfruitful eggs are hardly distin-
guished.
22. Birds (almost all of them) come to their
full growth the first year, or a little after. It is
true, that their feathers, in some kinds, and their
hills, in others, show their years; but, for the
growth of their bodies, it is not so.
23. The eagle is accounted a long liver, yet
his years are not set down ; and, it is alleged, as
a sign of his long life, that he casts his bill,
whereby he grows young again ; from whence
comes that old proverb, the old age of an eagle.
Notwithstanding, perchance, the matter may be
thus, that the renewing of the eagle doth not cast
his bill, but the casting of his bill is the renewing
of the eagle; for, after that his bill is drawn to a
great crookedness, the eagle feeds with much dif-
ficulty.
24. Vultures are also affirmed to belong livers,
insomuch that they extend their life well near to
a hundred years. Kites likewise, and so all
birds that feed upon flesh, and birds of prey, live
long. As for hawks, because they lead a degene-
rate and servile life, for the delight of men, ihe
term of their natural life is not certainly known ;
notwithstanding, amongst mewed hawks, some
have been found to have lived thirty years, and
amongst wild hawks, forty years.
25. The raven, likewise, is reported to live
long, sometimes to a hundred years. He feeds
on carrion, and flies not often, but rather is a
sedentary and melancholic bird, and hath very
black flesh. But the crow, like unto him in most
things, (except in greatness and voice,) lives not
altogether so long, and yet is reckoned amongst
the long livers.
26. The swan is certainly found to be a long
liver, and exceeds not unfrequently a hundred
years. He is a bird excellently plumed, a feeder
upon fish, and is always carried, and that in run-
ning waters.
27. The goose also may pass amongst the long
livers, though his food be commonly grass, and
such kind of nourishment, especially the wild
goose ; whereupon this proverb grew amongst the
Germans, Magis senex quam anser nivalis ; older
than a wild goose.
28. Storks must needs be long livers, if that
be true which was anciently observed of them,
that they never came to Thebes, because ihat city
was often sacked. This, if it were so, then either
they must have the knowledge of more ages than
one, or else the old ones must tell their young the
history. But there is nothing more frequent than
fables.
29. For fables do so abound touching the phoe-
nix, that the truth is utterly lost, if any such bird
there be. As for that which was so much ad-
mired, that she was ever seen abroad with a great
troop of birds about her, it is no such wonder;
for the same is usually seen about an owl flying
in the daytime, or a parrot let out of a cage.
30. The parrot hath been certainly known to
have lived threescore years in England, how old
soever he was before he was brought over ; a bird
eating almost all kinds of meats, chewing his
meat, and renewing his bill : likewise curst and
mischievous, and of a black flesh.
31. The peacock lives twenty years, but he
comes not forth with his argus eyes before he be
three years old; a bird slow of pace, having
whitish flesh.
HISTORY Of 1.1 FE AND DEATH.
477
112. The dunghill cock is venereous, martial,
iind but of a short life ; a crank bird, having also
white flesh.
33. The Indian cock, commonly called the
turkey cock, lives not much longer than the dung
hill cock; an angry bird, and hath exceeding
white flesh.
34. The ringdoves are of the longest sort of
livers, insomuch that they attain sometimes to
fifty years of age; an airy bird, and both builds
and sits on high. But doves and turtles are but
short-lived, not exceeding eight years.
35. But pheasants and partridges may live to
sixteen years. They are great breeders, but not
80 white of flesh as the ordinary pullen.
3G. The blackbird is reported to be, amongst
the lesser birds, one of the longest livers; an
unhappy bird, and a good singer.
37. The sparrow is noted to be of a very short
life; and it is imputed in the males to their lasci-
viousness. But the linnet, no bigger in body
than the sparrow, hath been observed to have
lived twenty years.
38. Of the ostrich we have nothing certain;
those that were kept here have been so unfortu-
nate, but no lon^ life appeared by them. Of the
bird ibis we find only that he liveth long, but his
years are not recorded.
39. The age of fishes is more uncertain than
that of terrestrial creatures, because living under
the water they are the less observed ; many of
them breathe not, by which means their vital
spirit is more closed in; and, therefore, though
they receive some refrigeration by their gills, yet
that refrigeration is not so continual as when it is
by breatliing.
40. They are free from the desiccation and de-
predation of the air ambient, because they live in
the water, yet there is no doubt but the water,
ambient, and piercing, and received into the pores
of the body, doth more hurt to long life than the
air doth.
41. It is aflirmed, too, that their blood is not
warm. 8ome of them are great devourers, even
of their own kind. Their flesh is softer and more
tender than that of terrestrial creatures ; they
grow exceedingly fat, insomuch that an incredible
quantity of oil will be extracted out of one whale.
42. Dolphins are reported to live about thirty
years; of which thing a trial was taken in some
of them by cutting off their tails: they grow until
ten years of age.
43. That which they report of some fishes is
strange, that after a certain age their bodies will
waste and grow very slender, only their head and
tail retaining their former greatness.
44. There were found in Ctesar's fishponds
lampreys to have lived threescore years; they
were grown so familiar with long use, that Cras-
sus, the orator, solemnly lamented one of them.
45. The pike, amongst fishes living in fresh
water, is found to last longest, sometimes to forty
years; he is a ravener, of a flesh somewhat dry
and firm.
4G. But the carp, bream, trench, eel, and the
like, are not held to live above ten years.
47. Salmons are quick of growth, siiort of life;
80 are trouts ; but the perch is slow of growth,
long of life.
48. Touching that monstrous bulk of the whale
or ork, how long it is welled by vital spirit, wf»
have received nothing certain ; neither yet touch-
ing the sea-calf, and sea-hog, and other innume-
rable fishes.
49. Crocodiles are reported to be exceeding
long-lived, and are famous for the times of their
growth, for that they, amongst all other creatures,
are thought to grow during their whole life.
They are of those creatures that lay eggs, raven-
ous, cruel, and well fenced against the waters.
Touching the other kinds of shell-fish, we find
nothing certain how long they live.
Observation.
To find out a rule touching length and short-
ness of life in living creatures is very difficult, by
reason of the negligence of observations, and the
intermixing of causes. A few things we will set
down.
1. There are more kinds of birds found to be
long-lived than of beasts ; as the eagle, the vul-
ture, the kite, the pelican, the raven, the crow,
the swan, the goose, the stork, the crane, the bird
called the ibis, the parrot, the ringdove, with the
rest, though they come to their full growth within
a year, and are less of bodies ; surely their cloth-
ing is excellent good against the distemperatures
of the weather; and, besides, living for the most
part in the open air, they are like the inhabitants
of pure mountains, which are long-lived. Again,
their motion, which (as I elsewhere said) is a
mixed motion, compounded of a moving of their
limbs and of a carriage in the air, doth less weary
and wear them, and it is more wholesome. Nei-
ther do they sufler any compression or want of
nourishment in their mother's bellies, because the
eggs are laid by turns. But the chiefest cause of
all I take to be is this, that birds are made ff ore
of the substance of the mother than of the father,
whereby their spirits are not so eager and hot.
2. It may be a position, that creatures which
partake more of the substance of their mother
than of their father, are long-lived, as birds are,
which was said before. Also, that those which
have a longer time of bearing in the womb, do
partake more of the substance of their mother,
ess of the father, and so are longer lived ; inso-
much, that I am of opinion, that even amongst
men, (which I have noted in some,) those thai
resemble their mothers most are longest lived ;
and so are the children of old men begotten of
young wives, if the fathers be sound, not diseased.
478
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DUVTH.
3. The firsi breeding of creatures is ever mate-
rial, either to their hurt or benefit. And, there-
fore, it stands with reason, that the lesser com-
pression, and the more liberal alimentation of the
young one in the womb, should confer much to
iong life. Now, this happens when either the
young ones are brought forth successively, as in
birds ; or when they are single birth, as in crea-
tures bearing but one at a burden.
4. But long bearing in the womb makes for
length of life three ways. First, for that the
young one partakes more of the substance of the
mother, as hath been said. Secondly, that it
comes forth more strong and able. Thirdly, that
it undergoes the predatory force of the air later.
Besides, it shows that nature intendeth to finish
their periods by larger circles. Now, though
oxen, and sheep, which are borne in the womb
about six months, are but short-lived, that hap-
pens for other causes.
5. Feeders upon grass and mere herbs are but
short livers, and creatures feeding upon fiesh, or
seeds, or fruits, long livers, as some birds are.
As for harts, which are long-lived, they take the
one-half of their meat (as men use to say) from
above their heads; and the goose, besides grass,
findeth something in the water and stubble to
feed upon.
6. We suppose that a good clothing of the
body maketh much to long life; for it fenceth
and armeth against the intemperances of the air,
which do wonderfully assail and decay the body;
which benefit birds especially have. Now, that
sheep, which have so good fleeces, should be so
short-lived, that is to be imputed to diseases,
whereof that creature is full, and to the bare eat-
ing of grass.
7. The seat of the spirits, without doubt, is
principally the head, which, though it be usually
understood of the animal spirits only, yet this is
all in all. Again, it is not to be doubted but the
spirits do most of all waste and prey upon the
body, so that when they are either in greater
plenty, or in greater inflammation and acrimony,
there the life is much shortened. And, therefore, 1
conceive a great cause of long life in birds to be
the smallness of their heads in comparison of
their bodies ; for even men, which have very great
heads, I suppose to be tlie shorter livers.
8. I am of opinion that carriage is, of all other
motions, the most helpful to long life, which I
also noted before. Now, there are carried water-
fowls upon the water, as swans; all birds in
their flying, but with a strong endeavour of their
limbs; and fishes, of the length of whose lives
we have no certainty.
9. Those creatures which are long before they
come to their perfection, (not speaking of growth
in stature only, but of other steps to maturity, as
i.ian puts forth, first, his teeth, next, the sigfns of
pubeny, then his beard, and so forward,) are long-
lived, for it shows that nature finished her periods
by larger circles.
10. Milder creatures are not long-lived, as the
sheep and dove; for choler is as the whetstone
and spur to many functions in the body.
11. Creatures whose flesh is moie duskish,
are longer lived than those that have white flesh ;
for it showeth that the juice of the body is mere
firm, and less apt to dissipate.
12. In every corruptible body quantity maketh
much to the conservation of the whole; for a
great fire is longer in quenching, a small portion
of water is sooner evaporated, the body of a tree
withereth not so fast as a twig. And, therefore,
generally, (I speak it of species, not of indivi-
duals,) creatures that are large in body are longer
lived than those that are small, unless there be
some other potent cause to hinder it.
Jllimentaiiun or Nuurishmcnt ; and the way (f
Nnuriahing.
To tlie foiirlli article. The liistory.
1. Nourishment ought to be of an inferior
nature, and more sim|)le substances than the
thing nourisiied. Plants are nourished with
the earth and water, living * creatures with
plants, man with living creatures. There are
also certain creatures feeding upon flesh, and
man himself takes plants into a part of his
nourishment; but man and creatures feeding
upon flesh are scarcely nourished with plants
alone; perhaps fruit or grains, baked or boiled,
may, with long use, nourish them ; but leaves, or
plants, or herbs, will not do it, as the order of
Foliatanes showed by experience.
2. Over-great afliiiity or consubstantiality of
the nourishment to the thing nourished, proveth
not well; creatures feeding upon herbs touch no
flesh ; and of creatures feeding upon flesh, few of
them eat their own kind. As for men which are
cannibals, they feed not ordinarily upon man's
flesh, but reserve it as a dainty, either to serve
their revenge upon their enemies, or to satisfy
their ap|)8tite at some times. So the ground is
best sown with seed growing elsewhere, and
men do not use to graft or inoculate upon the
same stock.
3. By how much the more tJie nourishment is
better prepared, and approacheth nearer in like-
ness to the thing nourished, by so much tlie more
are plants more fruitful, and living creatures in
better liking and plight; for a young slip or cion
is not so well nourished if it be pricked into the
ground, as if it be gr-nfted into a stock agreeing
with it in nature, and where it finds the nourish-
ment already digested and prepared ; neither (as
is reported) will the seed of an onion, or some
such like, sown in the bare earth, bring forth so
large a fruit as if it be put into another onion,
which is a new kind of grafting into the root or
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
470
nnder {trotind. Affain, it hath been found out
lately, tlial a slip of a wild tree, as of an elm,
oak, ash, or such like, crraftt>(l into a stock of the
»snine kind, will l»rin<r fnrth larjrer leaves than
those that (jrow without (jraftinjr. Also men are
not nourished so well with raw flesh as with that
which liath passed the fire.
4. Livinir creatures are nourished by the mouth,
plants by the root, younjj ones in the womb by the
navel. Birds for a while are nourished with the
yolk in the en^ir, whereof some is found in their
crops after they are hatched.
6. All nourishment moveth from the centre
to the circumference, or from the inward to the
outward; yet it is to be noted, that in trees and
plants the nourishment passeth rather by the
bark and outward parts, than by the pith and
inward parts; f<ir if the bark be pulled off, thou<rh
but for a small breadth round, they live no more;
and the blood in the veins of living creatures
doth no less nourish the flesh beneath than the
flesh above it.
6. In all alimentation or nourishment there is
a twofold action, extusion, and attraction; where-
of the former proceeds from the inward function,
the latter from the outward.
7. Vegetables assimilate their nourishment sim-
ply, without excerning; for gums and tears of
trees are rather exuberances than excrements, and
knots or knobs are nothing but diseases. But
the substance of living creatures is more percep-
tible of the like; and, therefore, it is conjoined
with a kind of disdain, whereby it rejecteth the
bad and assimilateth the good.
8. It is a strange thing of the stalks of fruits,
that all the nourishment which produceth some-
times such great fruits, should be forced to pass
through so narrow necks; for the fruit is never
joined to the stocks without some stalk.
9. It is to be noted, that the seeds of livinor
creatures will not be fruitful but when they new
shed, but the seeds of plants will be fruitful a
long time after they are gathered ; yet the slips or
cions of trees will not grow unless they be graft-
ed green, neither will the roots keep long fresh
unless they be covered with earth.
10. In living creatures there are degrees of
nourishment according to their age ; in the womb,
the young one is nourished with the mother's
blood; when it is new-born, with milk; after-
wards with meats and drinks: and in old age the
most nourishing and savoury meats please best.
Above all, it maketh to the present inquisition,
to inquire diligently and attentively whether a
man may not receive nourishment from without,
at least some other way besides the mouth. We
know that baths of milk are used in some hectic
fevers, and when the body is brought extreme
low, and physicians do provide nourishing glis-
ters. This matter would be well studied ; for if
nourishment may be made either from without,
or some other way than by the stomach, then the
weakness of concoction, which is incident to Mil
men, might be recompensed by these helps, and
concoction restored to them entire.
Length and Shortness (f Life in Man.
To the fifth, sixth, seventh, ei«lith, ninth, and eleventh ar-
ticles The History.
1. Before the flood, as the sacred Scriptures
relate, men lived many hundred years; yet
none of the fathers attained to a full thousand.
Neither was this length of life peculiar only to
grace or the holy line; for there are reckoned of
the fathers, until the flood, eleven generations;
but of the sons of Adam, by Cain, only eight
generations ; so as the posterity of Cain may
seem the longer lived. But this length of life,
immediately after the flood, was reduced to a
moiety, but in the postnati ; for Noah, who was
born before, equalled the age of his ancestors,
and Sem saw the six hundredth year of his life.
Afterwards, three generations being run from the
flood, the life of man was brought down to a
fourth part of the primitive age, that was, to
about two hundred years.
2. Abraham lived a hundred and seventy and
five years ; a man of a high courage, and prosper-
ous in all things. Isaac came to a hundred and
eighty years of age; a chaste man, and enjoying
more quietness than his father. But .Jacob, after
many crosses, and a numerous progeny, lasted to
the one hundred and forty-seventh year of his life ;
a patient, gentle, and wise man. Ismael, a mili-
tary man, lived a hundred and thirty and seven
years. Sarah (whose years only amongst women
are recorded) died in the hundred and twenty-
seventh year of her age; a beautiful and mag-
nanimous woiTian, a singular good mother and
wife, and yet no less famous for her liberty than
obsequiousness towards her husband. Joseph,
also, a prudent and politic man, passing his
youth in afiliction, afterwards advanced to the
height of honour and prosperity, lived a hundred
and ten years. But his brother Levi, older than
himself, attained to a hundred and thirty-seven
years ; a man impatient of contumely and re-
vengeful. Near unto the same age attained the
son of Levi ; also his grandchild, the father of
Aaron and Moses.
3. Moses lived a hundred and twenty years ; a
stout man, and yet the meekest upon the earth
and of a very slow tongue. Howsoever, Moses,
in his psalm, pronounceth that the life of man is
but seventy years, and if a man have strength,
then eighty ; which term of man's life standeth
firm in many particulars even at this day. Aaron,
who was three years the older, died the sf;m«
year with his brother; a man of a readier speech,
of a more facile disposition, and less constant.
But Phineas, grandchild of Aaron, (perhaps out
of extraordinary grace,) may be collected to have
480
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
lived three hundred years ; if so be the war of the
Israelites against the tribe of Benjamin (in which I
expedition Phineas consulted with) were perform- i
ed in the same order of time in which the history ]
hath ranked it; he was a man of a most eminent '
zeal. Joshua, a martial man and an excellent ;
leader, and evermore victorious, lived to the hun-
dred and tenth year of his life. Caleb was his con-
temporary, and seemeth to have been of as great
years. Ebud, the judge, seems to have been no
less than a hundred years old, in regard that after
the victory over the Moabites, the Holy Land had
rest under his government eighty years ; he was
a man fierce and undaunted, and one that in a
sort neglected his life for the good of his people.
4. .Tob lived, after the restoration of his happi-
ness, a hundred and forty years, being, before his
afflictions, of that age that he had sons at man's
estate ; a man politic, eloquent, charitable, and
the example of patience. Eli, the priest, lived
ninety-eight years; a corpulent man, calm of dis-
position, and indulgent to his children. But
Elizaeus, the prophet, may seem to have died
when he was above a hundred years old ; for he
is found to have lived after the assumption of
Elias sixty years; and at the time of that as-
sumption he was of those years, that the boys
mocked him by the name of bald head ; a man ve-
hement and severe, and of an austere life, and a
contemner of riches. Also Isaiah, the prophet,
seemeth to have been a hundred years old ; for
he is found to have exercised the function of a
prophet seventy years together, the years both of
his beginning to prophecy, and of his death, being
uncertain ; a man of an admirable eloquence, an
evangelical prophet, full of the promises of God
of the New Testament, as a bottle with sweet
wine.
5. Tobias, the elder, lived a hundred and fifty-
eight years, the younger a hundred and twenty-
seven ; merciful men, and great alms-givers. It
seems, in the time of the captivity, many of the
Jews who returned out of Babylon were of great
years, seeing they could remeniber both temples,
(there being no less than seventy years betwixt
them,) and wept for the unlikeness of them.
Many ages after that, in the time of our Saviour,
lived old Simeon, to the age of ninety; a devout
man, and full both of hope and expectation. Into
the same time also fell Anna, the prophetess, who
could not possibly be less than a hundred years
old, for she had been seven years a wife, about
eighty-four years a widow, besides the years of
her virginity, and the time that she lived after her
prophecy of our Saviour ; she was a holy woman,
and passed her days in fastings and prayers.
6. The long lives of men mentioned in heathen
authors have no gi-eat certainty in them ; both for |
the intermixture of fables, whereunto those kind
of leiations were very prone, and for their false
calculation of years. Certainly of the Egyptians
we find nothing of moment in those works that
are extant, as touching long life; for their kinga
which reigned longest did not exceed fifty, or
five-and-fifty years; which is no great matter,
seeing many at this day attain to those years.
But the Arcadian kings are fabulously reported to
have lived very long. Surely that country was
mountainous, full of flocks of sheep, and brought
forth most wholesome food, notwithstanding,
seeing Pan was their god, we may conceive that
all things about them were panic and vain, and
subject to fables.
7. Numa, King of the Romans, lived to eighty
years; a man peaceable, contemplative, and much
devoted to religion. Marcus Valerius Corvinus
saw a hundred years complete, there being betwixt
his first and sixth consulship forty-six years; a
man valorous, affable, popular, and always fortu-
nate.
8. Solon of Athens, the lawgiver, and one of
the seven wise men, lived above eighty years, a
man of high courage, but popular, and affected to
his country; also learned, given to pleasures, and
a soft kind of life. Epirnenides, the Cretian, is
reported to have lived a hundred and fifiy-seven
years ; the matter is mixed with a prodigious
relation, for fifty-seven of those years he is said
to have slept in a cave. Half an age after, Xeno-
phon, the Colophonian, lived a hundred and two
years, or rather more ; for at the age of twenty-
five years he left his country, seventy-seven com-
plete years he travelled, and after that returned ;
but how long he lived after his return appears not ;
a man no less wandering in mind than in body ;
for his name was changed for the madness of his
opinions, from Xenophanes to Xenomanes ; a
man, no doubt, of a vast conceit, and that minded
nothing but infinitum.
9. Anacreon, the poet, lived eighty years, and
somewhat better, a man lascivious, voluptuous,
and given to drink. Pindarus, the Theban, lived
to eighty years; a poet of a high fancy, singular
in his conceits, and a great adorer of the gods.
Sophocles, the Athenian, attained to the like age;
a lofty tragic poet, given over wholly to writing,
and neglectful of his family.
10. ArtaxerxeSjKingof Persia, lived ninety-four
years ; a man of a dull wit, averse to the despatch
of business, desirous of glory, but rather of ease.
At the same time lived Agesilaus, King of Sparta,
to eighty -four years of age ; a moderate prince, as
being a philosopher among kings, but, notwith-
standing, ambitious, and a warrior, and no less
stout in war than in business.
11. Gorgias, the Sicilian, was a hundred and
eight years old ; a rhetorician, and a great boaster
of his faculty, one that taught youth for profit.
He had seen many countries, and a little before
his death said, that he had done nothing worthy
of blame since be was an old man. Protagoras,
of Abdera, saw ninety years of age. This maa
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
481
was likewise a rhetorician, but professed not so
much to leach the lif.eral arts, as the art of govern-
ing coininonwealtlis and stat«>s ; notwithstanding
he was a great wanderer in the worM, no less
than Gorgias. Isocrates, the Athenian, lived
ninety-eight years ; he was a rhetorician also, but
an exceeding modest man, one .that shunned the
public light, and opened his school only in his
own h )use. Democritus, of Abdera, reached to a
hundred and nine years; he was a great philoso-
pher, and, if ever any man amongst the Grecians,
a true naturalist, a surveyor of many countries,
but much more of nature; also a diligent search-
er into experiments, and (as Aristotle objected
against him) one that followed similitudes more
than the laws of arguments. Diogenes, the
Sinopean, lived ninety years ; a man that used
liberty towards others, but tyranny over himself,
a coarse diet, and of much patience. Zeno, of
Citium, lacked about two years of a hundred ; a
man of a high mind, and a contemner of other
men's opinions; also of a great acuteness, but
yet not troublesome, choosing rather to take
men's minds than to enforce them. The like
whereof afterwards was in Seneca. Plato, the
Athenian, attained to eighty-one years ; a man
of a great courage, but yet a lover of ease, in his
notions sublime, and of a fancy, neat and deli-
cate in his life, rather calm than merry, and one
that carried a kind of majesty in his countenance.
Theophrastus, the Eressian, arrived at eighty-five
years of age ; a man sweet for his eloquence,
sweet for the variety of his matters, and who se-
lected the pleasant things of philosophy, and let
the bitter and harsh go. Carneades, of Cyrena,
many years after, came to the like age of eighty-
five years ; a man of a fluent eloquence, and one
who, by the acceptable and pleasant variety of
his knowledge, delighted both himself and others.
But Orhilius, who lived in Cicero's time, no
philosopher or rhetorician, but a grammarian, at-
tained to a hundred years of age; he was first a
soldier, then a schoolmaster; a man by nature
tart both in his tongue and pen, and severe to-
wards his scholars.
12. Quintius Fabius Maximus was augur sixty-
three years, which showed him to be above eighty
years of age at his death ; though it be true, that
in the augnrship nobility was more respected than
age; a wise man, and a great deliberator, and in
all his proceedings moderate, and not without
affability severe. Masinissa, King of Numidia,
lived ninety years, and being more than eighty-
five, got a son; a daring man, and trusting upon
his fortune, who in his youth had tasted of the
inconstancy of fortune, but in his succeeding age
was constantly happy. But Marcus Porcius Cato
lived above ninety years of age; a man of an iron
body and mind ; he had a bitter tongue, and loved
to cherish factions; he was given to husbandry,
and was to himself and his family a physician.
Vol. Ill— 61
13. Terentia, Cicero's wife, lived a hundred
and three years; a won)an afflicted with many
crosses; first, with the banishment of her hus-
band, then with the dilTerence betwixt them;
lastly, with his last fatal misfortune. She was
also oftentimes vexed with the gout. Luceia must
needs exceed a hundred by many years, for it is
said, that she acted a whole hundred years upon
the stage, at first, perhaps, representing the person
of some young girl, at last of some decrepit old wo-
man. But Galeria Copiola, a player also, and a
dancer, was brought upon the stage as a novice, in
what year of her age is not known; but ninety-nine
years after, at the dedication of the theatre by
Pompey the Great, she was shown upon the stage,
not now for an actress, but for a wonder. Neither
was this all ; for after tiiat, in the solemnities for
the health and life of Augustus, she was shown
upon the stage the third time.
14. There was another actress, somewhat in-
ferior in age, but much superior in dignity, which
lived well near ninety years, I mean Livia Julia
Augusta, wife to Augustus Cassar, and mother to
Tiberius. For, if Augustus his life were a play,
(as himself would have it, when as upon his
death-bed he charged his friends they should give
him a plaudit after he was dead,) certainly this
lady was an excellent actress, who could carry it
so well with her husband by a dissembled obe-
dience, and with her son by power and authority.
A woman affable, and yet of a matronal carriage,
pragmatical, and unholding her power. But
Junia, the wife of Caius Cassius, and sister of
Marcus Brutus, was also ninety years old, for she
survived the Philippic battle sixty-four years; a
magnanimous woman, in her great wealth happy,
in the calamity of her husband, and near kinsfolks,
and in a long widowhood unhappy, notwithstand-
ing much honoured of all.
15. The year of our Lord seventy-six, falling
into the time of Vespasian, is memorable; in
which we shall find, as it were, a calendar of
long-lived men ; for that year there was a taxing :
(now, a taxing is the most authentical and truest
informer touching the ages of men;) and in that
part of Italy, which lieth betwixt the Apennine
mountains and the river Po, there were found a
hundred and four-and-twenty persons that either
equalled or exceeded a hundred years of age:
namely, of a hundred years, just fifty-four persons;
of ahundrad and ten, fifty seven persons ; of a hun-
dred and five-and-twenty, two only ; of a hundred
and thirty, four men ; of a hundred and fivp-and-
thirty, or seven-and-thirty, four more ; of a hundred
and forty, three men. Besides these,Parma in parti-
cularaflTorded five, whereof three fulfilled a hundred
and twenty years, and two a hundred and thirty.
Brussels afforded one of a hundred and twenty five
years old. Placentia one, aged a hundredthirty-
and one. Faventia one woman, aged one hundred
thirty-and-two. A certain town, then called Vel
2 S
482
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
leiatium, situate in the hills about Placentia,
afforded ten, whereof six fulfilled a hundred and
ten years of age, four a hundred and twenty.
Lastly, Rimini, one of a hundred and fifty years,
whose name was Marcus Aponius.
That our cataloorue might not be extended too
much in length, we have thought fit, as well in
those whom we have rehearsed, as in those whom
we shall rehearse, to offer none under eighty years
of age. Now we have affixed to every one a true
ind short character or elogy ; but of that sort
whereunto, in our judgment, length of life (which
IS not a little subject to the manners and fortunes
of men) hath some relation, and that in a twofold
respect; either that such kind of men are for the
most part long-lived, or that such men may some-
times be of long life, though otherwise not well
disposed for it.
IG. Amongst the Roman and Grecian empe-
roTS, also, the French and Almain, to these our
days, which make up the number of well near
two hundred princes, there are only four found
that lived to eighty years of age; unto whom we
may add the two first emperors, Augustus and
Tiberius, whereof the latter fulfilled the seventy-
and-eighth year, the former the seventy-and-sixth
year of his age, and might both, perhaps, have
lived to forescore, if Livia and Caius had been
pleased. Augustus (as was said) lived seventy-
and-six years; a man of moderate disposition, in
accomplishing his designs vehement, but other-
wise calm and serene; in meat and drink sober,
venery intemperate, through all his lifetime hap-
py ; and who, about the thirtieth year of his life,
had a great and dangerous sickness, insomuch as
they despaired of life in him, whom Antonius
Musa, the physician, when other physicians had
applied hot medicines, as most agreeable to his
disease, on the contrary cured with cold medi-
cines, which perchance might be some help to
the prolonging of his life. Tiberius lived to be
two years older; a man with lean chaps, as Au-
gustus was wont to say, for his speech stuck
within his jaws, but was weighty. He was
bloody, a drinker, and one that took lust into a
part of his diet ; notwithstanding a great observer
of his health, insomuch that he used to say that
he was a fool, that after thirty years of age took
advice of a physician. Gordian, the elder, lived
eighty years, and yet died a violent death, when
he was scarce warm in his empire; a man of a
high spirit, and renowned, learned, and a poet,
and constantly happy throughout the whole course
of his life, save only that he ended his days by
a violent death. Valerian, the emperor, was
Hev^enty-six years of age before he was taken
prisoner by Sapor, King of Persia. After his
captivity he lived seven years in reproaches, and
then died a violent death also; a man of a poor
mind, and not valiant, notwithstanding lifted up
in his own, and the opinion of men, but falling
short in the performance. Anastasius, surnamed
Dicorut, lived eighty-eight years; he was of a
settled mind, but too abject, and superstitious,
and fearful. Anicius Justinianus lived to eighty
j three years, a man greedy of glory, performing
I nothing in his own person, but in the valour of
I his captains happy and renowned, uxorious, and
j not his own, but sulfering others to lead him.
, Helena, of Britain, mother of Constantine the
' Great, was fourscore years old ; a woman that in-
termeddled not in matters of state, neither in her
! husband's nor son's reign, but devoted herself
wholly to religion ; magnanimous, and perpetu-
ally flourishing. Theodora, the empress, (who
was sister to Zoes, wife of Monomachus, and
reigned alone after her decease,) lived above
eighty years ; a pragmatical woman, and one that
took delight in governing ; fortunate in the highest
degree, and through her good fortunes credulous.
17. We will proceed now from these secular
princes to the princes in the church; St. John,
an apostle of our Saviour, and the beloved disci-
ple, lived ninety-three years. He was rightly
denoted under the emblem of the eagle, for his
piercing sight into the divinity, and was a seraph
amongst the apostles, in respect of his burning
love. St. Luke, the Evangelist, fulfilled four-
score and four years ; an eloquent man, and a
traveller, St. Paul's inseparable companion, and
a physician. Simeon, the son of Cleophas,
called the brother of our Lord, and Bishop of
Jerusalem, lived a hundred and twenty years
though he was cut short by martyrdom ; a stout
man, and constant, and full of good works.
Polycarpus, disciple unto the apostles, and Bishop
of Smyrna, seemeth to have extended his age to
a hundred years and more, thougl he were also
cut off by martyrdom ; a man of a high mind, of
an heroical patience, and unwearied with ial)ours.
Dionysius Areopagita, contemporary to the apos-
tle St. Paul, lived ninety years; he was called
the bird of heaven for his high-flying divinity,
and was famous, as well for his holy life as for
his meditations. Aquila and Priscilla, first St
Paul the apostle's hosts, afterwards his fellow,
helpers, lived together in a happy and famous
wedlock, at least to a hundred years of age apiece,
for they were both alive under Pope Xistus the
First; a noble pair, and projie to all kind of cha-
rity, who amongst other their comforts (which no
doubt were great unto the first founders of the
church) had this added, to enjoy each other so
long in a happy marriage. St. Paul, the hermit,
lived a hundred and thirteen years ; now, he lived
in a cave, his diet was so slender and strict, that
it was thought almost impossible to support hu-
man nature therewithal ; he passed his years only
in meditations and soliloquies; yet he was not
illiterate, or an idiot, but learned. Saint Anthony,
the first founder of monks, or (as some will have
it) the restorer only, attained to a hundred and five
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
483
years of age; a man devout and contemplative,
thougl) not unlit for civil alFairs ; his life was aus-
tere and mortifying, notwithstanding he lived in a
kind of glorious solitude, and exercised a com-
mand, for he had his monks under him. And,
besides, many Christians and philosophers came
to visit him as a living image, from which they
parted not without some adoration. St. Athanasius
exceeded the term of eighty years ; a man of an
invincible constancy, commanding fame, and not
yielding to fortune. He was free towards the
grea> ones, with the people gracious and accept-
able, beaten and practised to oppositions, and in
delivering himself from them, stout and wise.
St. Hierom, by the consent of most writers, ex-
ceeded ninety years of age; a man powerful in his
pen, and of a manly eloquence, variously learned
both in the tongues and sciences; also a traveller,
and that lived strictly towards his old age, in an
estate private, and not dignified ; he bore high
spirits, and shined far out of obscurity.
18. The Popes of Rome are in number, to this
day, two hundred, forty, and one. Of so great
a number, five only have attained to the age of
foorscore years or upwards. But, in many of
the first popes, their full age was intercepted by
the prerogative and crown of martyrdom. .Tohn,
the twenty-third Pope of Rome, fulfilled the
ninetieth year of his age; a man of an unquiet
disposition, and one that studied novelty ; he
altered many things, some to the better, others
only to the new, a great accumulator of riches
and treasures. Gregory, called the twelfth,
created in schism, and not fully acknowledged
pope, died at ninety years. Of him, in respect
of his short papacy, we find nothing to make a
judgment upon. Paul, the third, lived eighty
years and one ; a temperate man, and of a pro-
found wisdom ; he was learned, an astrologer,
and one that tended his health carefully, but,
after the example of old Eli the priest, over-in-
dulgent to his family. Paul the fourth attained
to the age of eighty-three years ; a man of a
harsh nature, and severe, of a haughty mind,
and imperious, prone to anger, his speech was
eloquent and ready. Gregory the thirteenth ful-
filled the like age of eighty-three years; an abso-
lute good man, sound in mind and body, politic,
temperate, full of good works, and an almsgiver.
19. Those that follow are to be more promis-
cuous in their order, more doubtful in their faith,
and more barren of observation. King Argan-
thenius, who reigned at Cadiz in Spain, lived a
hundred and thirty, or, as some would have it, a
hundred and forty years, of which he reigned
eighty. Concerning his manners, institution of
his life, and the time wherein he reigned, there
is a general silence. Cynirus, King of Cyprus,
living in the island then termed the happy and
pleasant island, is affirmed to have attained to a
hundred and fifty or sixty years. Two Latin
kings in Italy, the father and the son, are reported
to have lived, the one eight hundred, the other
six hundred years ; but this is delivered unto us
by certain philologists, who, though otherwise
credulous enough, yet themselves have suspected
the truth of this matter, or rather condemned it.
Others record some Arcadian kings to have lived
three hundred years; the country, no doubt, is a
place apt for long life, but the relation I suspect
to be fabulous. They tell of one Dando, in Illy-
rium, that lived without the inconveniences of
old age, to five hundred years. They tell, also,
of the Epians, a part of j^-Uolia, that the whole
nation of them were exceeding long-lived, inso-
much that many of them were two hundred years
old ; and that one principal man amongst them,
named Litorius, a man of giantlike stature, could
have told three hundred years. It is recorded,
that on the top of tiie mountain Timolus, an-
ciently called Tempsis, many of the inhabitants
lived to a hundred and fifty years. We read
that the Esseans, amongst the Jews, did usually
extend their life to a hundred years. Now, that
sect used a single or abstemious diet, after the
rule of Pythagoras. Apollonius Tyaneus ex-
ceeded a hundred years, his face bewraying no
such age; he was an admirable man, of the
heathens reputed to have something divine in
him, of the Christians held for a sorcerer; in his
diet pythagorical, a great traveller, much renown-
ed, and by some adored as a god ; nothwithstand-
ing, towards tlie end of his life, he was subject
to many complaints against him, and reproaches,
all which he made shift to escape. But, lest his
long life should be imputed to his pythagorical
diet, and not rather that it was hereditary, his
grandfather before him lived a hundred and thirty
years. It is undoubted, that Quintus Metelhis
ved above a hundred years ; and that, after
several consulships happily administered, in his
old age he was made Ponlifex IMaximus, and
exercised those holy duties full two-and-twenty
years ; in the performance of which rites his
voice never failed, nor his hand trembled. It is
most certain, that Appius Ca>cus was very old, but
his years are not extant, the most part whereof he
passed after he was blind, yet this misfortune no
whit softened him, but that he was able to govern a
numerous family, a great retinue and dependence,
yea, even the commonwealth itself, with great
stoutness. In his extreme old age he was brouffhl
in a litter into the senate-house, and vehemently
dissuaded the peace with Pyrrhus; the beginning
of his oration was very memorable, showing an in-
vincible spirit and strength of mind. " I have,
with great grief of mind, (Fathers Conscript.')
these many years borne my blindness, but now 1
could wish that I were deaf also, when I hear you
speak to such dishonourable treaties." Marcus
Perpenna lived ninety-eight years, surviving al)
those whose suffrages he had gathered in tho
484
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
senate-house, being consul, I mean all the sena-
tors at that time, as also all those whom, a little
after, being consul, he chose into the senate, seven
only being excepted. Hiero, King of Sicily, in
the time of the second Punic war, lived almost a
hundred years; a man moderate both in his go-
vernment and in his life, a worshipper of the
gods, and a religious conserver of friendship
liberal, and constantly fortunate. Statilia, de
scended of a noble family, in the days of Claudius,
lived ninety-nine years. Clodia, the daughter of
Osilius, a hundred and fifteen. Xenophilus, an
ancient philosopher, of the sect of Pythagoras
attained to a hundred and six years, remaining
healthful and vigorous in his old age, and famous
amongst the vulgar for his learning. The island-
ers of Corcyra were anciently accounted long-
lived, but now they live after the rate of other
men. Hipocrates Cous, the famous physician,
lived a hundred and four years, and approved and
credited his own art by so long a life ; a man that
coupled learning and wisdom together, very con-
versant in experience and observation ; one that
haunted not after words or methods, but served
the very nerves of science, and so propounded
them. Demonax, a philosopher, not only in pro-
fession, but practice, lived in the days of Adrian,
almost to a hundred years ; a man of a high mind,
and a vanquisher of his own mind, and that truly
and without affectation ; a contemner of the world,
and yet civil and courteous. When his friends
spake to him about his burial, he said. Take no
care for my burial, for stench will bury a carcass.
They replied, Is it your mind then to be cast out
to birds and dogs ] He said, again, Seeing in
my lifetime I endeavoured to my uttermost to
benefit men, what hurt is it, if, when I am dead,
I benefit beasts 1 Certain Indian people, called
Pandorae, are exceeding long-lived, even to no
less than two hundred years. They had a thing
more marvellous, that having, when they are
boys, an air somewhat whitish, in their old age,
before their gray hairs, they grow coalblack,
though, indeed, this be everywhere to be seen,
that they which have white hair whilst they are
boys, in their man's estate, change their hairs into
a darker colour. The Seres, another people of
India, with their wine of palms, are accounted
long livers, even to a hundred and thirty years.
Euphranor, the grammarian, grew old in his
school and taught scholars when he was above a
hundred years old. The elder Ovid, father to the
poet, lived ninety years, differing much from the
disposition of his son, for he contemned the
muses, and dissuaded his son from poetry. Asi-
nius Pollio, intimate with Aug^ustus, exceeded the
age of a hundred- years; a man of an unreasonable
profuseness, eloquent, and a lover of learning,
but vehement, proud, cruel, and one that made
his private ends the centre of his thoughts.
There was an opinion, that Seneca was an ex-
treme old man, no less than a hundred and foui
teen years of age, which could not possibly be,
it being as improbable that a decrepit old man
should be set over Nero's youth, as, on the con-
trary, it was true, that he was able to manage
with great dexterity the affairs of state. Besides,
a little before, in the midst of Claudius his reign,
he was banished Rome for adulteries committed
with some noble ladies, which was a crime no
way compatible with so extreme old age. Jo-
hannes de Ternporibus, among all the men of our
latter ages, out of a common fame and vulgar
opinion, was reputed long-lived, even to a mira-
cle, or rather even to a fable ; his age hath been
counted above three hundred years. He was by
nation a Frenchman, and followed the wars under
Charles the Great. Garcius Aretine, great-grand-
father to Petrarch, arrived at the age of a hundred
and four years ; he had ever enjoyed the benefit
of good health, besides, at the last, he felt rather
a decay of his strength, than any sickness or
malady, which is the true resolution by old age.
Amongst the Venetians there have been found
not a few long livers, and those of the more emi-
nent sort. Franciscus D<matus, duke ; Thomas
Contarenis, procurator of Saint Mark ; Francis-
cus Molinus, procurator also of Saint Mark, and
others. But, most memorable, is that of Corna-
rus the Venetian, who, being in his youth of a
sickly body, began first to eat and drink by mea-
sure to a certain weight, thereby to recover his
health ; this cure turned by use into a diet, that
diet to an extraordinary long life, even of a hun-
dred years and better, without any decay in his
senses, and with a constant enjoying of his health.
In our age, William Pestel, a Frenchman, lived
to a hundred and well nigh twenty years, the top
of his beard on the upper lip being black, and
not gray at all ; a man crazed in his brain, and
of a fancy not altogether sound ; a great traveller,
mathematician, and somewhat stained with he-
resy.
20. I suppose there is scarce a village with us
in England, if it be any whit populous, but it
affords some man or woman of fourscore years of
age ; nay, a few years since, there was in the
county of Hereford a May-game, or morrice-
dance, consisting of eight men, whose age com-
puted together made up eight hundred years;
insomuch that what some of them wanted of a
hundred, others exceeded as much.
21. In the hospital of Bethlehem, corruptly
called Bedlam, in the suburbs of London, there
are found from time to time many mad persons
that live to a great age.
22. The ages of nymphs, fawns, and satyrs,
whom they make to be indeed mortal, but yet
exceedingly long-lived, (a thing which ancient
uperstition, and the late credulity of some have
admitted,) we account but for fables and dreams,
especially being that which hath neither con-
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
485
•ent with philosnphy, nor with divinity. And
as touciiiiig the history of long life in man by
individuals, or next unto individuals, thus much.
Now we will pass on to observations by certain
heads.
23. The running on of ages, and succession of
g-onerations, seem to have no whit abated from
tlie length of life. For we see, that from the
time of Moses unto these our days, the term of
man's life hath stood about fourscore years of
age; neither hath it declined (as a man would
have thought) by little and little. No doubt there
are times in every country wherein men are
longer or shorter lived. Longer, for the most
part, when the times are barbarous, and men fare
less deliciously, and are more given to bodily
exercises. Shorter, when the times are more
civil, and men abandon themseles to luxury and
ease. But these things pass on by their turns,
the succession of generations alters it not. The
same, no doubt, is in other living creatures, for
neither oxen, nor horses, nor sheep, nor any
the like, are abridged of their wonted ages at
this day. And, therefore, the great abridger
of age was the flood ; and perhaps some such
notable accidents (as particular inundations,
long droughts, earthquakes, or the like) may
do the same again. And the like reason is in
the dimension and stature of bodies, for neither
are they lessened by succession of generations ;
howsoever Virgil (following tlie vulgar opinion)
divined that after-ages would bring forth lesser
bodies than the then present. Whereupon,
speaking of ploughing up the iEmathian and
^mmensian fields, he saith, Grandiaque efFossis
mirabitur ossa sepulchris. That after-ages shall
admire the great bones digged up in ancient se-
pulchres. For whereas it is manifested, that
there were heretofore men of gigantine statures,
(such as for certain have been found in Sicily
and elsewhere, in ancient sepulchres and caves,)
yet within these last three thousand years, a time
whereof we have sure memory, those very places
have produced none such, although this thing
also hath certain turns and changes, by the civil-
izing of a nation, no less than the former. And
this is the rather to be noted, because men are
wholly carried away with an opinion, that there
is a continual decay by succession of ages, as
well in the term of man's life, as in the stature
and strength of his body ; and that all things de-
cline and change to the worse.
21. In cold and northern countries men live
longer commonly than in hot, which must needs
be, in respect the skin is more compact and close,
and the juices of the body less dissipable, and
the spirits themselves less eager to consume, and
in better disposition to repair, and the air (as
being little heated by the sunbeams) less preda-
tory. And yet, under the equinoctial line, where
llie Hun passeth to and fro, and causeth a double
summer, and double winter, and where the day*
and nights are more equal, (if other things be con-
curring,) they live also very long, as in Peru and
Taprobane.
25. Islanders are, for the most part, longei
j lived than those that live in continents; for they
live not so long in Russia as in the Orcades, nor
so long in Africa, though under the same parallel,
as in the Canaries and Terceras; and the Japo-
nians are longer lived than the Chinese, though
the Chinese are made upon long life. And this
thing is no marvel, seeing the air of the sea doth
heat and cherish in cooler regions, and cof»l in
hotter.
26. High situations do rather afford long livers
than low, especially if they be not tops of moun-
t.iins, but rising grounds, as to their general situa-
tions ; such as was Arcadia in Greece, and that
part of ji^lolia, where we related them to have
lived so long. Now, there would be the same rea-
son for mountains tlieinselves, because of the pure-
ness and clearness of the air, but that they are cor-
rupted by accident, namely, by the vapours rising
thither out of the valleys, and resting there ; and,
therefore, in snowy mountains there is not found
any notable long life, not in the Alps, not in the
Pyrenean mountains, not in the Apennine ; yet
in the tops of the mountains running along to-
wards ^Ethiopia, and the Abyssines, where, by
reason of the sands beneath, little or no vapour
riseih to the mountains; they live long, even at
this very day, attaining many times to a hundred
and fifty years.
27. Marshes and fens are propitious to the na-
tives, and malignant to strangers, as touching the
lengthening and shortening of their lives; and
that which may seem more marvellous, salt
marshes, where the sea ebbs and flows, are less
wholesome than those of fresh water.
2S. The countries which have been observed
to produce long livers are these; Arcadia, J^tolia,
India on this side Ganges, Brazil, Taprobane,
Britain, Ireland, with the islands of the Orcades
and Hebrides : for as for ^Ethiopia, which by one
of the ancients is reported to bring forth long
livers, it is but a toy.
29. It is a secret; the healthfulness of air,
especially in any perfection, is better found by
experiment than by discourse or conjecture. You
may make a trial by a lock of wool exposed for a
few days in the open air, if the weight be not
much increased ; another by a piece of flesh ex-
posed likewise, if it corrupt not over soon; another
by a weatherglass, if the water interchange not
too suddenly. Of these, and the like, inquire
further.
30. Not only the goodness or purcness of the
air, but also the equality of the air, is material to
[ long life. Intermixture of hills and dales is plea-
I sant to the sight, but suspected for long life. A
plain, moderately dry, but yet not over barren or
282
486
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
Bandy, nor altogether without trees and shade, is
very convenient for htngth of life.
3 1 . Inequality of air (as was even now said) in
the place of our dwelling is naught; but change
of air by travelling, after one be used unto it, is
good, and, therefore, great travellers have been
long lived. Also those that have lived perpetually
.n a little cottage, in the same place, have been
long livers; for air accustomed consumeth less,
but air changed nourisheth and repaireth more.
32. As the continuation and number of succes-
sions (which we said before) makes nothing to
the length and shortness of life, so the immediate
condition of the parents (as well the father as the
mother) without doubt availeth much. For some
are begotten of old men, some of young men,
some of men of middle age. Again, some are
begotten of fathers healthful and well disposed,
others of diseased and languishing. Again, some
of fathers immediately after repletion, or when
they are drunk; others after sleeping, or in the
morning. Again, some after a long intermission
of Venus, others upon the act repeated. Again,
some in the fervency of the father's love, (as it is
commonly in bastards,) others after the cooling
of it, as in long married couples. The same
things may be considered on the part of the mother,
unto which must be added the condition of the
mother whilst she is with child, as touching her
health, as touching her diet, the time of her bear-
ing in the womb, to the tenth month or earlier.
To reduce these things to a rule, how far they
may concern long life, is hard ; and so much the
harder, for that those things which a man would
conceive to be the best, will fall out to the con-
trary. For that alacrity in the generation which
begets lusty and lively children, will be less pro-
fitable to long life, because of the acrimony and
inflaming of the spirits. We said before, that to
partake more of the mother's blood conduceth to
long life. Also we suppose all things in modera-
tion to be best; rather conjugal love than mere-
tricious ; the hour for generation to be the morn-
ing, a state of body not too lusty or full, and such
like. It ought to be well observed, that a strong
constitution in the parents, is rather good for them
than for the child, especially in the mother. And,
therefore, Plato thought ignorantly enough, that
the virtue of generations halted, because the
woman used not the same exercise both of mind
and body with the men. The contrary is rather
true ; for the difference of virtue betwixt the male
and the female is most profitable for the child,
and the thinner women yield more towards the
nourishment of the child, which also holds in
nurses. Neither did the Spartan women, which
married not before twenty-two, or, as some say,
twenty-five, (and therefore were called manlike
women,) bring forth a more generous or long-
lived piogeny than the Roman, or Athenian, or
Theban women did, whicn were ripe for marriage
at twelve or fourteen years ; and if there were any
thing eminent in the Spartans, that was rather to
be imputed to the parsinwny of their diet, than to
the late marriages of their women. But this we
are taught by experience, that there are some races
which are long-lived for a few descents, so that
life is like some diseases, a thing hereditary
within certain bounds.
33. Fair in face, or skin, or hair, are shorter
livers; black, or red, or freckled, longer. Also,
too fresh a colour in youth doth less promise long
life than paleness. A hard skin is a sign of long
life rather than a soft; but we understand not this
of a rugged skin, such as they call the goose-skin,
which is, as it were, spongy, but of that which is
hard and close. A forehead with deep furrows
and wrinkles is a better sign than a smooth and
plain forehead.
34. The hairs of the head hard, and like bristles,
do betoken longer life than those that are soft and
delicate. Curled hairs betoken the same thing,
if they be hard withal ; but the contrary, if they
be soft and shining; the like if the curling be
rather thick in large bunches.
35. Early or late, baldness is an indifferent
thing, seeing many which have been bald betimes
have lived long. Also, early gray hairs (how-
soever they may seem forerunners of old age ap-
proaching) are no sure signs, for many that have
grown gray betimes, have lived to great years ;
nay, hasty gray hairs, without baldness, is a
token of long life; contrarily, if they be accom-
panied with baldness.
36. Hairiness of the upper parts is a sign of
short life, and they that have extraordinary much
hair on their breasts, live not long; but hairiness
of the lower parts, as of the thighs and legs, is a
sign of long life.
37. Tallness of stature, (if it be not immode-
rate,) with convenient making, and not too slen-
der, especially if the body be active withal, is a
sign of long life. Also, on the contrary, men of
low stature live long, if they be not too active and
stirring.
38. In the proportion of the body, they which
are short to the waists, with long legs, are longer
lived than they which are long to the waists, and
have short legs. Also, they which are large in
the nether parts, and straight in the upper, (the
making of their body rising, as it were, into a
sharp figure,) are longer lived than they that
have broad shoulders, and are slender down-
wards.
39. Leanness, where the affections are settled,
calm, and peaceable; also, a more fat habit of
body, joined with choler, and a disposition stir-
ring and peremptory, signify long life ; but cor-
pulency in youth foreshows short life ; in age, it
is a thing more indifferent.
40. To be long and slow in growing, is a sign
of long life ; if to a greater stature, the greatei
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
487
sign; if to a lesser stature, yet a sifrn ; though, ; speak more exactly when we come to the inqui-
contrarily, to grow quickly to a great stature, is sitimi, according to intentions. Meanwhile that
an evil sign ; if to a small stature, the less evil. ' of Celsus, who was not only a learned physician,
•11. Firm flesh, a rawbone body, and veins lay- ' but a wise man, is not to be omitted, who ad-
ing higher than the flesh, betoken long life ; the : viseth interchanging and alternation of the diet,
contrary to these, short life. but still with an inclination to the more benign ;
42. A head somewhat lesser than to the pro- as that a man should sometimes accustom him-
portion of the body, a moderate neck, not long,
nor slender, nor flat, nor too short; wide nostrils,
whatsoever the form of the nose be ; a large mouth,
and ear gristly, not fleshy ; teeth strong and con-
tiguous, smair or thin set, foretoken long life;
and, much more, if some new teeth put forth in
our elder years.
43. A broad breast, yet not bearing out, but
rather bonding inwards; shoulders
crooked, and (as they call such persons) round-
backed, a flat belly, a hand large, and with few
lines in the palm; a short and round foot, thighs
not fleshy, and calves of the legs not hanging
over, l»ut neat, are signs of long life.
44. Eyes somewhat large, and the circles of
them inclined to greenness ; senses not too quick ;
the pulse in youth slower, towards old age quick-
er ; facility of holding the breath, and longer than
usual ; the body in youth inclined to be bound, in
the decline of years more laxative, are also signs
of long life.
45. Concerning the times of nativity, as they
refer to long life, nothing has been observed
worthy the setting down, save only astrological
observations, which we rejected in our topics. A
birth at the eighth month is not only long-lived,
but not likely to live. Also, winter births are
accounted the longer lived.
46. A pythagorical or monastical diet, accord-
incr to strict rules, and always exactly equal, (as
that of Conarus was,) seemeth to be very eff'ectual
for long life. Yet, on the contrary, amongst those
that live freely, and after the common sort, such
as have good stomachs and feed more plentifully,
are often the longest lived. The middle diet,
which we account the temperate, is commended,
and conduceth to good health, but not to long life ;
self to watching, sometimes to sleep, but to sleep
oftenest. Again, that he should sometimes give
himself to fasting, sometimes to feasting, but to
feasting oftenest; that he should sometimes inure
himself to great labours of the mind, sometimes
to relaxations of the same, but to relaxations
oftenest. Certainly this is without all question,
that diet well ordered bears the greatest part in
somewhat j the prolongation of life; neither did I ever meet
an extreme long-lived man, but being asked of
his course, he observed something peculiar ; some
one thing, some another. I remember an old
man, above a hundred years of age, who was pro-
duced, as witness, touching an ancient prescrip-
tion. When he had finished his testimony, the
judge familiarly asked him how he came to live
so long: He answered, beside expectation, and
not without the laughter of the hearers. By eating
before I was hungry, and drinking before I was
dry. But of these things we shall speak hereafter.
47. A life led in religion, and in holy exercises,
seemeth to conduce to long life. There are in
this kind of life these things, leisure, admiration,
and contemplation of heavenly things, joys not
sensual, noble hopes, wholesome fears, sweet
sorrows. Lastly, continual renovations by observ-
ances, penances, expiations, all which are very
powerful to the prolongation of life. Unto which
if you add that austere diet which hardeneth
the mass of the body, and humbleth the spirits,
no marvel if an extraordinary length of life do
follow ; such was that of Paul, the hermit, Simeon
Slelita, the columnar anchorite, and of many other
hermits and anchorites.
48. Next to this is the life, led in good letters,
such as was that of philosophers, rhetoricians,
grammarians. This life is also led in leisure.
for the spare diet begets few spirits, and dull, and I and in those thoughts, which, seeing they are
so wasteth the body less; and the liberal diet I severed from the affairs of the world, bite not,
yieldeth more ample nourishment, and so repair- | but rather delight, through their variety and im-
eth more; but the middle diet doth neither of pertinency. They live also at their pleasure,
both; for, where the extremes are hurtful, there spending their time in such things as like them
the mean is best; but where the extremes are best, and for the most part in the company of
helpful, there the mean is nothing worth. I young men, which is ever the most cheerful.
Now, to that spare diet there are requisite But in philosophies there is great difference he-
watching, lest the spirits, being few, should be twixt the sects, ?.s touching long life; for those
oppressed with much sleep; little exercise, lest philosophies which have in them a touch of
they should exhale; abstinence from venery, lest superstition, and are conversant in high con-
thev should be exhausted; but to the liberal diet, templations, are the best, as the pythagorical and
on the other side, are requisite much sleep, fre- platonic. Also those which did institute a peram-
quent exercises, and a seasonable use of venery. bulation of the world, and considered the variety
Baths and anointings (such as were anciently in of natural things, and had reachless, and high,
use) did rather tend to deliciousness, than to pro- and magnanimous thoughts, (as of infinitum, of
longing of life. But of all these things we shall the stars, of the heroical virtues, and such like,)
488
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
were good for lenstheninff of life; such were
those of Democritus, Philolaus, Xenophanes, the
astrologians and stoics. Also those which had
no profound speculation in them, but discoursed
calmly on both sides, out of common sense and
the received opinions, without any sharp inquisi-
tions, were likewise good ; such were those of
Carneades and the academics, also of the rhetori-
cians and grammarians. But, contrary, philo-
sophies conversant in perplexing subtilties, and
which pronounced peremptorily, and which exa-
mined and wrested all things to the scale of prin-
ciples. Lastly, which were thorny and narrow
were evil ; such were those commonly of the peri-
patetics, and of the schoolmen.
49. The country life also is well fitted for long
life ; it is much abroad, and in the open air ; it is
not slothful, but ever in employment; it feedeth
upon fresh cates, and unbought ; it is without
cares and envy.
50. VoT the military life, we have a good opinion
of that whilst a man is young. Certainly many
excellent warriors have been long-lived ; Corvi-
nus, Camillus, Xenophon, Agesilaus, with others,
both ancient and modern. No doubt it furthereth
long life, to have all things from our youth to our
elder age mend, and grow to the better, that a
youth full of crosses may minister sweetness to
our old age. We conceive also, that military
affections, inflamed with a desire of fighting, and
hope of victory, do infuse such a heat into the
spirits, as may be profitable for long life.
Medicines for Long Life.
To the tenth article.
The art of physic, which we now have, looks
no further commonly than to conservation of
health, and cure of diseases. As for those things
which tend properly to long life, there is but
slight mention, and by the way only. Notwith-
standing, we will propound those medicines
which are notable in this kind, I mean those
which are cordials. For it is consonant to reason,
that those things which being taken in cures do
defend and fortify the heart, or, more truly, the
spirits, against poisons and diseases being trans-
ferred with judgment and choice into diet, should
have a good effect, in some sort, towards the pro-
longing of life. This we will do, not heaping
them promiscuously together, (as the manner is,)
but selecting the best.
1. Gold is given in three forms, either in that
which they call aurum potabile, or in wine
wherein gold hath been quenched, or in gold in
the substance, such as are leaf-gold, and the
filings of gold. As for aurum potabile, it is
used to be given in desperate or dangerous dis-
eases, and that not without good success. But
we suppose that the spirits of the salt, by which
the gcyld IS dissolved, do rather minister that vir-
tue which is found in it. than the gold itself,
though tills secret be wholly suppressed. Now
if the body of guld could be opened with these
corrosive waters, or by these corrosive waters
(so the venemous quality were wanting) well
washed, we conceive it would be no unprofitable
medicine.
2. Pearls are taken either in a fine powder, or
in a certain mass or dissolution, by the juice oi
four and new lemons, and they are given some-
times in aromatical confections, sometimes in
liquor. The pearl, no doubt, hath some affinity
with the shell in which it groweth, and may be
of the same quality with the shells of crawfishes.
3. Amongst the transparent precious stones,
two only are accounted cordial, the emerald and
the jacinth, which are given under the same forms
that the pearls are; save only, that the dissolu-
tions of them, as far as we know, are not in use.
But we suspect these glassy jewels, lest they
should be cutting.
Of these which we have mentioned, h(fw far
and in what manner they are helpful, shall be
spoken hereafter.
4. Bezoar stone is of approved virtue for re-
freshing the spirits and procuring a gentle sweat.
As for the unicorn's horn, it hath lost the credit
with us; yet so as it may keep rank with harts-
horn, and the bone in the heart of a hart, and
ivory, and such like.
Ambergris is one of the best to appease and
comfort the spirits.
5. Hereafter, follow the names only of the
simple cordials, seeing their virtues are suffi-
ciently known.
Hot. — Saffron, folium indum, lignum aloes,
citron pill or rind, balm, basil, clove-gillyflowers,
orange flowers, rosemary, mint, betony, carduus
benedictus.
Cold. — Nitre, roses, violets, strawberry leaves,
strawberries, juice of sweet lemons, juice of
sweet oranges, juice of pearmains, borage, bu-
gloss, burnet, sanders, camphire.
Seeing our speech now is of those things which
may be transferred into diet, all hot waters and
chymical oils, (which, as a certain trifler saith,
are under the planet Mars, and have a furious
and destructive force,) as, also, all hot and biting
spices are to be rejected, and a consideration to
be had how waters and liquors may be made of
the former simples; not those phlegmatic distilled
waters, nor again those burning waters or spirits
of wine, hut such as may be more temperate, and
yet lively, and sending forth a benign vapour.
6. I make some question touching the frequent
letting of blood, whether it conduceth to long
life or not ; and I am rather in the opinion that it
doth, if it be turned into a habit, and other things
be well disposed, for it letteth out the old juice
of the body and bringeth in new.
I suppose also, that some emaciating diseases,
well cured, do profit to long life, for they yield
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DKATH.
489
new juice, the old being consumed, and as (he
*ia»tli) to recover a sickness, is to renew youth.
'J'herefore it were good to make some artificial
diseases, which is done by strict and emaciating
diets, of which 1 shall speak hereafter.
The Intentions.
To tlie twelfth, lliiitocnth, and fourteenth articles.
Having- finished the imjuisition according to
the subjects, as, namely., of inanimate bodies,
vegetables, living creatures, man, I will come
now nearer to tlie matter, and order mine inquisi-
tions by certain intentions, such as are true and
proper (as I am wholly persuaded,) and which
are the very paths to mortal life. For in this
part, nothing that is of worth hath hitherto been
inquired, but the contemplations of men have
been but simple and non-proficients. For when
I hear men on the one side speak of comforting
natural h#at, and the radical moisture, and of
meats which breed good blood, such as may
neither be burnt nor phlegmatic, and of the
cheering and recreating the spirits, I suppose
them to be no bad men which speak these things ;
but none of these worketh effectually towards
the end. But when, on the other side, I hear
several discourses touching medicines made of
gold, because gold is not subject to corruption;
and touching precious stones, to refresh the
spirits by their hidden properties and lustre, and
that if they could be taken and retained in ves-
sels, the balsams and quintessences of living
creatures would make men conceive a proud hope
of immortality. And that the flesh of serpents
and harts, by a certain consent, are powerful to
the renovation of life, because the one casteth his
skin, the other his horns; (they should also have
added the flesh of eagles, because the eagle
changes his bill.) And that a certain man, when
he had found an ointment hidden under the
ground, and had anointed himself therewith from
head to foot, (excepting only the soles of his feet)
did, by his anointing, live three hundred years
without any disease, save only some tumours in
the soles of his feet. And of Artesius, who,
when he found his spirit ready to depart, drew
into his body the spirit of a certain young man,
and thereby made him breathless, but himself
lived many years by another man's spirit. And
of fortunate hours, according to the figures of
heaven, in which medicines are to be gathered
and compounded for the prolongation of life ; and
of the seals of planets, by which virtues may be
drawn and fetched down from heaven to prolong
life; and such like fabulous and superstitious
vanities. I wonder exceedingly that men should
so much dote as to suffer themselves to be deluded
with these things. And, again, I do pity man-
kind that they should have the hard fortune to be
besieged with such frivolous and senseless ap-
VoL. III.— 62
prehensions. But mine intentions do both come
home to the matter, and are far from vain and
credulous imaginations; being also such, as I
conceive, posterity may adil much to the matters
which satisfy these intentions ; but to the inten-
tions themselves, but a little. Notwithstanding
there are a few things, and those of very great
moment, of which I would have men to be fore-
warned.
First, We are of that opinion, that we esteem
the offices of life to be more worthy than life itself.
Therefore, if tbe;e oe any thing of that kind that
may indeed exactly answer our intentions, yet so
that the offices and duties of life be thereby hin-
dered, whatsoever it be of this kind, we reject it.
Perhaps we may make some light mention of
some things, but we insist not upon thein. For
we make no serious nor diligent discourse, either
of leading the life in caves, where the sunbeams
and several changes of the air pierce not, like
E^pimenides his cave ; or of perpetual baths,
made of liquors prepared ; or of shirts and sear-
cloths, so applied, that the body should be al-
ways, as it were, in a box ; or of thick paintings
of the body, after the manner of some barbarous
nations; or of an exact ordering of our life and
diet, which aimeth only at this, and mindeth
nothing else but that a man live, (as was that of
Herodicus amongst the ancients, and of Cornarus
the Venetian in our days, but with greater mode-
ration,) or of any such prodigy, tediousness, or
inconvenience ; but we propound such remedies
and precepts, by which the offices of life may
neither be deserted nor receive any great inter-
ruptions or molestations.
Secondly, On the other side, we denounce unto
men that they will give over trifling, and not ima-
gine that so great a work as the stopping and
turning back the powerful course of nature can
be brought to pass by some morning draught, or
the taking of some precious drug, but that they
would be assured that it must needs be, that this
is a work of labour, and consisteth of many reme-
dies, and a fit connexion of them amongst them-
selves ; for no man can be so stupid as to imagine
that what was never yet done can be done, but
by such ways as were never yet attempted.
Thirdly, We ingeniously profess that some of
those things which we shall propound, have not
been tried by us by way of experiment, (for our
course of life doth not permit that,) but are de-
rived (as we suppose) upon good reasons, out of
our principles and grounds, (of which some we
set down, others we reserve in our mind,) and
are, as it were, cut and digged out of the rock
and mine of nature herself. Nevertheless, we
have been careful, and that Avith all providence
and circumspection, (seeing the Scripture saith of
the body of man, that it is more worth than rai-
ment,) to propound such remedies as may at least
be safe, if peradventure they be not fruitful
490
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH,
Fourtlily, We would have men rightly to ob-
serve and distinguish that those things which are
good for a healthful life, are not always good for
a long life ; for there are some things which do
further the alacrity of the spirits, and the strength
and vigour of the functions, which, notwithstand-
ing, do cut off from the sum of life: and there
are other things which are profitable to prolonga-
tion of life, which, are not without some peril of
health, unless this matter be salved by fit reme-
dies ; of which, notwithstanding, as occasion shall
be offered, we will not omit to give some cautions
and monitions.
Lastly, We have thought good to propound
sundry remedies according to the several inten-
tions, but the choice of those remedies, and the
order of them, to leave to discretion ; for to set
down exactly which of them agreeth best, with
which constitution of body, which with the
several courses of life, which with each man's
particular age, and how they are to be taken one
after another, and how the whole practique of
these things is to be administered and governed,
would be too long, neither is it fit to be pub-
lished.
In the topics we propounded three intentions;
the prohibiting of consumption, the perfecting of
reparation, and the renewing of oldness. But
seeing those things which shall be said are no-
thing less than words, we will deduce these three
intentions to ten operations.
1. The first is the operation upon the spirits,
that they may renew their vigour.
2. The second operation is upon the exclusion
of the air.
3. The third operation is upon the blood, and
the sanguifying heat.
4. The fourth operation is upon the juices of
the body.
5. The fifth operation is upon the bowels, for
their extrusion of aliment.
6. The sixth operation is upon the outer parts,
for their attraction of aliment.
7 The seventh operation is upon the aliment
itself, for the insinuation thereof.
8. The eighth operation is upon the last act of
assimilation.
9. The ninth operation is upon the inteneration
of the parts, after they begin to be dried.
10. The tenth operation is upon the purging
away of old juice, and supplying of new juice.
Of these operations, the four first belong to
the first intention, the four next to the second
intention, and the two last to the third inten-
tion.
But because this part touching the intentions
doth tend to practice, under the name of history,
we will not only comprise experiments and obser-
vations, but also counsels, remedies, explications
of causes, assumptions, and whatsoever hath re-
ference hereunto.
I. The Operation upon the Spirits, that thr.y -may
remain youthful, and renew their Vigour.
The history.
1. The spirits are the master workmen of all
efllects in the body. This is manifest by consen.
and by infinite instances.
2. If any man could procure that a younoi
man's spirit could be conveyed into an old man's
body, it is not unlikely but this great wheel of
the spirits might turn about the lesser wheels of
the parts, and so the course of nature become
retrograde.
3. In every consumption, whether it be by fire
or by age, the more the spirit of the body, or the
heat, preyeth upon the moisture, the lesser is the
duration of that thing. This occurs everywhere,
and is manifest.
4. The spirits are to be put into such a tem-
perament and degree of activity, that they should
not (as he saith) drink and guzzle the juices of
the body, but sip them only.
5. There are two kinds of flames, the one eager
and weak, which consumes slight substances, but
hath little power over the harder, as the flame of
straw or small sticks : the other strong and con-
stant, which converts hard and obstinate sub-
stances ; as the flame of hard wood, and such
like.
6. The eager flames, and yet less robust, do dry
bodies, and render them exhaust and sapless ;
but the stronger flames do intenerate and melt
them.
7. Also in dissipating medicines, some vapour
forth the thin part of the tumours or swellings,
and these harden the tumour; others potently dis-
cuss, and these soften it.
8. Also in purging and absterging medicines,
some carry away the fluid humours violently
others draw the more obstinate and viscous.
9. The spirits ought to be invested and armed
with such a heat, that they may choose rather to
stir and undermine hard and obstinate matters,
than to discharge and carry away the thin and
prepared : for by that means the body becomes
green and solid.
1 0. The spirits are so to be wrought and temper-
ed, that they may be in substance dense, not rare;
in heat strong, not eager; in quantity sufficient for
the ofliices of life, not redundant or turgid; in mo-
tion appeased, not dancing or unequal.
11. That vapours work powerfully upon the
spirits it is manifest by sleep, by drunkenness,
by melancholic passions, by letificant medicines,
by odours, calling the spirits back again in swoon
ings and faintings.
12. The spirits are condensed four ways; either
by putting them to flight, or by refrigerating and
cooling them, or by stroking them, or by quieting
them. And first of their condensation, by putting
them to fliofht.
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
49t
13. Whatsoever putteth to flicrht on all parts
uiiveth the body into his centre, and so con-
ilenseth.
14. To the condensation of the spirits by
flight, the most powerful and elTectual is opium,
and next opiates, and generally all soporiferous
thin»rs.
15. The force of opium to the condensation of
the spirits is exceeding strong, when as perhaps
three grains thereof will in a short time so coagu-
late the spirits, that they return no more, but are
extinguished, and become iiimiovable.
16. Opium, and the like, put not the spirits to
flight by their coldness, for they have parts mani-
festly hot, but on the contrary cool by their put-
ling the spirits to flight.
17. The flight of the spirits by opium and opi-
ate medicines is best seen by applying the same
outwardly, for the spirits straight withdraw them-
selves, and will return no more, but the part is
mortified, and turns to a gangrene.
18. Opiates in grievous pains, as in the stone,
or the cutting off" of a limb, mitigate pains most
of all, by putting the spirits to flight.
19. Opiates obtain a good effect from a bad
cause ; for the flight of the spirits is evil, but the
condensation of them through their flight is good.
20. The Grecians attributed much both for
health and for prolongation of life, as opiates, but
the Arabians much more, insomuch that their
grand medicines (which they called the god's
hands) had opium for their basis and principal
ingredient, other things being mixed to abate and
correct the noxious qualities thereof; such were
treacle, mithridate, and the rest.
21. Whatsoever is given with good success in
the curing of pestilential and malignant diseases,
to stop and bridle the spirits, lest they grow tur-
bulent and tumultuous, may very happily be
transferred to the prolongation of life ; for one
thing is effectual unto both, namely, the conden-
sation of the spirits: now, there is nothing better
for that than opiates.
22. The Turks find opium, even in a reasonable
good quantity, harmless and comfortable, inso-
much that they take it before their battle to excite
courage; but to us, unless it be in a very small
quantity, and with good correctives, it is mortal.
23. Opium and opiates are manifestly found to
excite Venus; which shows them to have force to
corroborate the spirits.
24. Distilled water out of wild poppy is given
with good success in surfeits, agues, and divers
diseases; which, no doubt, is a temperate kind
of opiate. Neither let any man wonder at the
various use of it, for that is familiar to opiates, in
roirard that the spirits, corroborated and con-
densed, will rise up against any disease.
25. The Turks use a kind of herb which they
call caphe, which they dry and powder, and tiien
drink in warm water, which they say doth not a
little sharpen them both in their courage and in
their wits; notwithstanding, if it be taken in a
large quantity, it affects and disturbs the mind ;
whereby it is manifest, that it is of the same
nature with opiates.
"26. There is a root much renowned in all the
eastern parts which they call betel, which the In-
dians and others use to carry in their mouths, and
to champ it, and by that champing they are won-
derfully enabled both to endure labours, and to
overcome sicknesses, and to the act of carnal
copulation: it seems to be a kind of stupefactive,
because it exceedingly blacks the teeth.
27. Tobacco in our age is immoderately grown
into use, and it afl'ects men with a secret kind of
delight, insomuch that they who have once inured
themselves unto it, can hardly afterwards leave
it; and no doubt it hath power to lighten the
body, and to shake off weariness. Now, the
virtue of it is commonly thought to be, because it
opens the passages, and voids humours : but it
may more rightly be referred to the condensation
of the spirits, for it is a kind of henbane, and mani-
festly troubles the head as opiates do.
28. There are sometimes humours engendered
in the body, which are as it were opiate them-
selves ; as it is in some kind of melancholies,
with which if a man be affected it is a sign of very
long life.
29. The simple opiates (which are also called
stupefactives) are these; opium itself, which is
the juice of poppy, both the poppies as well in the
herb as in the seed, henbane, mandrake, hemlock,
tobacco, nightshade.
30. The compound opiates are, treacle, mithri-
date, trifera, laudanum, paracelsi, diaconium, dia-
scordium, philonium, pills of houndstongue.
31. F'rom this which hath been said, certain
designations or counsels may be deduced for the
prolongation of life, according to the present in-
tention, namely, of condensing the spirits by
opiates.
32. Let there be, therefore, every year, from
adult years of youth, an opiate diet ; let it be taken
about the end of May, because the spirits in the
summer are more loose and attenuated, and there
are less dangers from cold humours; let it be
some magistral opiate, weaker than those that are
commonly in use, both in respect of a smaller
quantity of opium, and of a more sparing mixture
of extreme hot things; let it betaken in the morn-
ing betwixt sleeps. The fare for that time would
be more simple and sparing than ordinary, with-
out wine, or spices, or vaporous things. Thi^j
medicine to be taken only each other day, and to
be continued for a fortnight. This designation
in our judgment comes home to the intention.
33. Opiates also may be taken not only V)y xhv
mouth, but also by fumes ; but ttie fumes must bo
such as may not move the expulsive ^"acuity tod
strongly, nor force down humours, but mly taken
4W?
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
in a weft, may work upon the spirits within the
brain. And, therefore, a suffumig-alion of tohacco,
lignum aloes, rosemary leaves dried, and a little
myrrh snutfed up in the morning at the mouth and
nostrils, would be very good.
34. In grand opiates, such as are treacle,
mithridate, and the rest, it would not be amiss
(especially in youth) to take rather the distilled
waters of them, than themselves in their bodies ;
for the vapour in disl'illing doth rise, but the heat
of the medicine commonly settleth. Now, dis-
tilled waters are good in those virtues which are
conveyed by vapours, in other things but weak.
35. There are medicines which have a certain
Weak and hidden degree, and therefore safe to an
opiate virtue ; these send forth a slow and copious
vapour, but not malignant as opiates do; there-
fore they put not the spirits to flight, notwithstand-
ing they congregate them, and somewhat thicken
them.
36. Medicines, in order to opiates, are princi-
pally saffron, next folium indum, ambergris,
coriander seed prepared, amomum, pseuda mo-
muin, lignum rhodium, orange-flower water, and
much more the infusion of the same flowers new
gathered in the oil of almonds, nutmegs pricked
full of holes and macerated in rosewater.
37. As opiates are to be taken very sparingly,
and at certain times, as was said, so these second-
aries may be taken familiarly, and in our daily
diet, and they will be very effectual to prolonga-
tion of life. Certainly an apothecary of Calecute,
by the use of amber, is said to have lived a hun-
dred and sixty years, and the noblemen of Bar-
bary through the use" thereof are certified to bo
very long-lived, whereas the mean people are but
of short life. And our ancestors, who were
longer lived than we, did use saffron much in
their cakes, broths, and the like. And touching
the first way of condensing the spirits of opiates,
and the subordinates thereto, thus much.
38. Now we will inquire of the second way of
condensing the spirits by coldj for the proper
work of cold is condensation, and it is done with-
out any malignity, or adverse quality ; and there-
fore it is a safer operation than by opiates, though
somewhat less powerful, if it be done by turns
only as opiates are. But then again, because it
may be used familiarly, and in our daily diet
with moderation, it is much more powerful for
the prolongation of life than by opiates.
39. The refrigeration of the s-pirits is effected
three ways, either by respiration, or by vapours,
or by aliment. The first is the best, but, in a
sort, out of our power; the second is potent, but
vet ready and at hand ; the third is weak and
somewhat about.
40. Air clear and pure, and which hath no fog-
giness in it before it be received into the lungs,
»nd which is least exposed to the sunbeams, con-
denseth the spirits best. Such is found either on
the tops of dry mountains, or in champaigns open
to the wind, and yet not without some shade.
41. As for the refrigeration and condensation
of the spirits by va|)ours, the root of this opera
tion we place in nitre, as a creature purposely
I made and chosen for this end, being thereunto led
and persuaded by these arguments.
4-2. Nitre is a kind of cool spice; this is appa-
rent to the sense itself, for it bites the tongue and
palate with cold, as spices do with heat, and it is
the only thing, as far as we know, that hath this
property.
43. Almost all cold things (which are coM pro-
perly and not by accident, as opium is) are poor
and jejune of spirit; contrarily, things f')ll of spi-
rit are almost all hot, only nitre is found aniongsx
vegetables, which aboundeth with spirit and yet
is cold. As for camphire, which is full of spirit,
and yet performeth the actions of cold, it cooleth
by accident only, as namely, for that by the thin-
ness thereof, witi.out acrimony, it helpeth perspi-
ration and inflammations.
44. In congealing and freezing of liquors
(which is lately grown into use> by laying snow
and ice on the outside of the vessel, nitre is also
added, and no doubt it exciteth and fortifieth the
congelation. It is true, that they use also for this
work ordinary bay-salt, which doth rather give
activity to the coldness of the snow, than cool by
itself; but, as I have heard, in the hotter regions,
where snow falls not, the congealing is wrought
by nitre alone ; but this I cannot certainly affirm.
45. It is affirmed that gunpowder, which con-
sisteth principally of nitre, being taken in driiik
doth conduce to valour, and that it is used often-
times by mariners and soldiers before they begin
their battles, as the Turks do opium.
46. Nitre is given with good success in burn-
ing agues, and pestilential fevers, to mitigate and
bridle their pernicious heats.
47. It is manifest, that nitre in gunpowder doth
mightily abhor the flame, from whence is caused
that horrible crack and puffing.
48. Nitre is found to be, as it were, the spirit
of the earth; for this is most certain, that any
earth, though pure and unmixed with nitrous mat-
ter, if it be so laid up and covered, that it be free
from the sunbeams, and putteth forth no vegetable,
will gather nitre, even in good abundance. By
which it is clear, that the spirit of nitre is not only
inferior to the spirit of living creatures, but also to
the spirit of vegetables.
40. Cattle, which drink of nitrons water, do
manifestly grow fat, which is a sign of the cold in
nitre.
50. The manuring of the soil is chiefly by
nitrous substances; for all dung is nitrous, and
this is a sign of the spirit in nitre.
1 51. From hence it appears, that the spiiits of
I man may be cooled and condensed by the spirit
I of nitre, and be made more crude and less eager.
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
493
And, therefore, a-* stronjr wines, and spices, and
the like, do burn the spirits and shorten life ; so,
on the contrary side, nitre doth compose and
repress them, and furthereth to life.
52. Nitre may be used with meat, mixed with
our salt, to the tenth part of the salt; in broths
taken in the morning-, for three grains to ten, also
in beer; but howsoever it be used, with modera-
tion, it is of prime force to long life.
53. As opium holds the pre-eminence in con-
densing the spirits, by putting them to flight, and
hath withal his subordinates less potent, but more
safe, which may be taken both in greater quantity
and in more frequent use, of which we have for-
merly spoken; so also nitre, which condenseth
the spirits by cold, and by a kind of frescour, (as
we now-a-days speak,) hath also his subordinates.
54. Subordinates to nitre are, all those things
which yield an odour somewhat earthy, like the
smell of earth, pure and good, newly digged or
turned up; of this sort the chief are, borage, bu-
loss, langue de boeuf, burnet, strawberry leaves,
and strawberries, frambois, or raspis, raw cucum-
bers, raw pearmains, vine leaves, and buds, also
violets.
55. The next in order, are those which have a
certain freshness of smell, but somewhat more
inclined to heat, yet not altogether void of that
virtue o6 refreshing by coolness ; such as are
balm, green citrons, green oranges, rosewater dis-
tilled, roasted wardens; also the damask, red, and
musk roses.
56. This is to be noted, that subordinates to
nitre do commonly confer more to this intension
raw, than having passed the fire, because that the
spirit of cooling is dissipated by the fire, therefore
they are best taken either infused in some liquor,
or raw.
57. As the condensation of the spirits by subor-
dinates to opium is, in some sort, performed by
odours, so also that which is by subordinates to
nitre; therefore the smell of new and pure earth,
taken either by following the plough, or by dig-
g-ing, or by weeding, excellently refresheth the
spirits. Also the leaves of trees in woods, or
hedg. s, falling towards the middle of autumn,
yield a good refreshing to the spirits, but none so
good as strawberry leaves dying. Likewise the
smell of violets, or wallflowers, or beanflowers, or
sweetbrier, or honeysuckles, taken as they grow,
in passing by them only, is of the same nature.
58. Nay, and we know a certain great lord
who lived long, that had every morning, imme-
diately after sleep, a clod of fresh earth laid in a
fair napkin under his nose, that he might take the !
smell thereof. |
59. There is no doubt hut the cooling and tem-
pering of the blood by cool things, such as are |
ftnd-ive. succory, leverwort, purslain, and the like, I
ao also by consequent cool the spirits. But this
is about, whereas vapours cool immediately. i
I 60. And as touching the condensing of the spi-
' rits by cold, thus much. The third way of con-
densing the spirits we said to be by that which
I we call stroking the spirits. The fourth, by
' quieting the alacrity and unruliness of them.
61. Such things stroke the spirits as are pleas-
I ing and friendly to them, yet they allure them
; not to go abroad ; but rather prevail, that the spi-
rits, contented as it were in their own society, do
I enjoy themselves, and betake themselves into
their proper centre.
6L For these, if you recollect those things
which were formerly set down, as subordinates to
opium and nitre, there will need no other inquisi-
tion.
62. As for the quieting of the unruliness of the
spirits, we shall presently speak of that, when we
inquire touching their motion. Now theh, seeing
we have spoken of that condensation of the spirits
which pertaineth to their substance, we will come
to the temper of heat in them.
63. The heat of the spirits, as we said, ought
to be of that kind, that it may be robust, not eager,
and may delight rather to master the tough and
obstinate, than to carry away the thin and light
humours.
64. We must beware of spices, wine, and
strong drinks, that our use of them be very tem-
perate, and sometimes discontinued. Also of
savory, wild marjorum, pennyroyal, and all such
as bite and heat the tongue; for they yield unto
the spirits a heat not operative, but predatory.
65. These yield a robust heat, especially elecam-
pane, garlick, carduus benedictus, watercresses,
while they are young, germander, angelica, ze-
doary, vervin, valerian, myrrh, pepperwort, elder
flowers, garden chervile. The use of these things,
with choice and judgment, sometimes in salads,
sometimes in medicines, will satisfy this ope-
ration.
66. It falls out well, that the grand opiates will
also serve excellently for this operation, in respect
that they yield such u heat by composition, which
is wished, but not to be found in simples. For
the mixing of those excessive hot things, (such as
are euphorbium, pellitory of Spain, stavisacre,
dragonwort, anacordi, castoreum, aristolochium,
opponax, ammoniachum, galbanum, and the like,
which of themselves cannot be taken inwardly,)
to qualify and abate the stupefactive virtue of the
opium, they do make such a constitution of a
medicament as we now require; which is excel-
lently seen in this, that treacle and mithridate,
and the rest, are not sharp, nor bite the tongue,
but are only somewhat bitter, and of strong scent,
and at last manifest their heat when they come
into the stomach, and in their subsequent opeia-
tions.
67. There conduces also to the robust heat of
the spirits, Venus often excited, rarely performed ;
and no less some of the affections, of which shall
2T
494
HISTOR\ OF LIFE AND DEATH.
be spoken hereafter. So touching the heat of the
spirits, analogical to the prolongation of life, thus
much.
68. Touching the quantity of the spirits, that
they be not exuberant and boiling, but rather
sparing, and within a mean, (seeing a small flame
doth not devour so much as a great flame,) the
inquisition will be short.
69. It seems to be approved by experience, that
a spare diet, and almost a pythagorical, such as is
either prescribed by the strict rules of a monas-
tical life, or practised by hermits, which have ne-
cessity and poverty for their rule, rendereth a man
long-lived.
70. Hitherto appertain drinking of water, a hard
hed, abstinence from fire, a slender diet, (as,
namely, of herbs, fruits, flesh, and fish, rather
powdered and salted, than fresh and hot, a hair
shirt, frequent fastings, frequent watchings, few
sensual pleasures, and such like ; for all these
diminish the spirits, and reduce them to such a
quantity as may be sufficient only for the func-
tions of life, whereby the depredation is the
less.
71. But if the diet shall not be altogether so
rigorous and mortifying, yet, notwithstanding,
shall be always equal and constant to itself, it
worketh the same effect. We see it in flames,
that a flame somewhat bigger (so it be always
alike and quiet) consumeth less of the fuel, than
a lesser flame blown with bellows, and by gusts
stronger or weaker. That which the regiment
and diet of Cornarus, the Venetian, showed
plainly, who did eat and drink so many years to-
gether by a just weight, whereby he exceeded a
hundred years of age, strong in limbs, and entire
in his senses.
72. Care also must be taken, that a body, plen-
tifully nourished, and not emaciated by any of
these aforesaid diets, omitteth not a seasonable
use of Venus, lest the spirits increase too fast,
and soften and destroy the body. So then, touch-
ing a moderate quantity of spirits, and (as we
may say) frugal, thus much.
73. The inquisition, touching bridling the mo-
tions of the spirits, followeth next. Motion doth
manifestly attenuate and inflame them. This
bridling is done by three means; by sleep, by
avoiding of vehement labours, immoderate exer-
cise, and, in a word, all lassitude ; and by re-
fraining irksome aflfections. And, first, touching
sleep.
74. The fable tells us, that Epimenides slept
many years together in a cave, and all that time
needed no meat, because the spirits waste not
much in sleep.
75. Experience teacheth us that certain creatures,
as dormice and bats, sleep in some close places a
whole winter together ; such is the force of sleep
lo restidin all vital consumption. That which
nees or drones are also thought to do, though
sometimes destitute of honey, and likewise but-
terflies and other flies.
76. Sleep after dinner (the stomach sending up
no unpleasing vapours to the head, as being the
first dews of our meat) is good for the sjiirits,
but derogatory and hurtful to all other points of
health. Notwithstanding in extreme old age
there is the same reason of meat and sleep, for
both our meals and our sleeps should be then fre-
quent, but short and little; nay, and towards the
last period of old age, a mere rest, and, as it
were, a perpetual reposing doth best, especially
in winter-time.
77. But as moderate sleep conferreth to long
life, so much more if it be quiet and not disturbed.
78. These procure quiet sleep, violets, lettuce,
especially boiled, syrup of dried roses, saffron,
balm, apples, at our going to bed ; a sop of bread
in malmsey, especially where musk-roses have
been first infused ; therefore it would not be amiss
to make some pill or a small draught of these
things, and to use it familiarly. Also those things
which shut the mouth of the stomach close, as
coriander seed prepared, quinces and wardens
roasted, do induce sound sleep ; but above all
things in youth, and for those that have sufficient
strong stomachs, it will be best to take a good
draught of clear cold water when they go to bed.
Touching voluntary and procured tr.ances, as
also fixed and profound thoughts, so as they be
without irksomeness, I have nothing certain ; no
doubt they make to this intention, and condense
the spirits, and that more potently than sleep, see-
ing they lay asleep, and suspend the senses as
much or more. Touching them, let further in-
quiry be made. So far touching sleep.
79. As for motion and exercise, lassitude hurt-
eth, and so doth all motion and exercise which is
too nimble and swift, as running, tennis, fencing,
and the like ; and, again, when our strength is
extended and strained to the uttermost, as dancing,
wrestling, and such like ; for it is certain, that the
spirits being driven into straits, either by the
swiftness of the motion, or by the straining of the
forces, do afterward become more eager and pre-
datory. On the other side, exercises which stir
up a good strong motion, but not over swift, or to
our utmost strength, (such as are leaping, shoot-
ing, riding, bowling, and the like,) do not hurt,
but rather benefit.
We must come now to the aflfections and pas-
sions of the mind, and see which of them are
hurtful to long life, which profitable.
80. Great joys attenuate and diffuse the spirits,
and shorten life; familiar cheerfulness strengthens
the spirits, by calling them forth, and yet not re-
solving them.
81. Impressions of joy in the sense are naught;
ruminations of joy in the memory, or apprehen-
sions of them in hope or fancy, are good.
82. Joy suppressed, or communicated sparingly,
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
41)5
doth more comfort the spirits, than joy poured
forth and published.
83. Grief and sadness, if it be void of fear, and
afllift not too much, doth rather prolong life; for
it contracteth the spirits, and is a kind of con-
densation.
84. Great fears shorten the life; for though
j^'rief and fear do both strengthen the spirit, yet in
grief there ia a simple contraction; but in fear,
hy reason of the cares taken for the remedy, and
hopes intermixed, there is a turmoil and vexing
jf the spirits.
85. Anger suppressed is also a kind of vexa-
..ion, and causeth the spirit to feed upon the juices
of the body ; but let loose and breaking forth, it
helpeth; as those medicines do, which induce a
robust heat.
8(), Envy is the worst of all passions, and
feedeth upon the spirits, and they again upon the
body, and so much the more, because it is per-
petual, and, as it is said, keepeth no holidays.
87. Pity of another man's misfortune, which is
not likely to befall ourselves, is good ; but pity,
which may reflect with some similitude upon the
party pitying, is naught, because it exciteth fear.
88. Light shame hurteth not, seeing it con-
tracteth the spirits a little, and then straight dif-
fuseth them, insomuch that shamefaced persons
commonly live long; but shame for some great
ignotniny, and which afflicteth the mind long,
contracteth the spirits even to suffocation, and
is pernicious.
89. Love, if it be not unfortunate, and too
deeply wounding, is a kind of joy, and is subject
to the same laws which we have set down touch-
ing joy.
90. Hope is the most beneficial of all the affec-
tions, and doth much to the prolongation of life,
if it be not too often frustrated, but entertaineth
the fancy with an expectation of good ; therefore
they which fix and propound to themselves some
end, as the mark and scope of their life, and con-
tinually and by degrees go forward in the same,
are, for the most part, long-lived ; insomuch that
when they are come to the top of their hope, and
can go no higher therein, they commonly droop,
and live not long after. So that hope is a leaf-joy,
which may be beaten out to a great extension,
like gold.
91. Admiration and light contemplation are
very powerful to the prolonging of lite; for they
hold the spirits in such things as delight them,
and suffer them not to tumultuate, or to carry
themselves unquietly and waywardly. And,
therefore, all the contemplators of natural things,
wliich had so many and eminent objects to ad-
mire, (as Democrilus, Plato, Parmenides, Apol-
hinius,) were long-lived ; also rhetoricians, which
tasted but lightly of things, and studied rather
cxornation of speech than profundity of matters,
were also long-lived ; as Gorgias, Protagoras,
Isocrates, Seneca. And, certainly, as old men aro
for the most part talkative, so talkative men do
often grow very old : for it shows a light contem-
plation, and such as do not much strain the spirits,
or vex them ; but subtle, and acute, and eager in-
quisition shortens life, for it tireth the spirit, and
wasteth it.
And as touching the motion of the spirits, by
the affections of the mind, thus much. Now, we
will add certain other general. observations touch-
ing the spirits, besides the former, which fall not
into the precedent distribution.
9iJ. Especial care must be taken that the spirits
be not too often resolved ; for attenuation goeth
before resolution, and the spirit once attenuated
doth not very easily retire, or is condensed. Now,
resolution is caused by over-great labours, over-
vehement affections of the mind, over-great sweats,
over-great evacuation, hot baths, and an untempe-
rate and unseasonable use of Venus ; also by over-
greatcares and carpings, and anxious expectations ;
lastly, by malignant diseases, and intolerable pains
and torments of the body ; all which, as much as
may be, (which our vulgar physicians also ad-
vise,) must be avoided.
93. The spirits are delighted both with wonted
things and with new. Now, it maketh wonder-
fully to the conservation of the spirits in vigour,
that we neither use wonted things to a satiety and
glutting; nor new things, before a quick and
strong appetite. And, therefore, both customs are
to be broken off with judgment and care, before
they breed a fulness; and the appetite after new
things to be restrained for a time until it grow
more sharp and jocund; and, moreover, the life,
as much as may be, so to be ordered, that it may
have many renovations, and the spirits, by per-
petual conversing in the same actions, may not
wax dull. For though it were no ill saying ot
Seneca's, The fool doth ever begin to live; yet
this folly, and many more such, are good for
long life.
94. It is to be observed touching the spirits,
(though the contrary used to be done,) that when
men perceive their spirits to be in good, placid,
and healthful state, (that which will be seen by
the tranquillity of their mind, and cheerful dispo-
sition,) that they cherish them, and not change
them; but when in a turbulent and untoward
state, (which will also appear by their sadness,
lumpishness, and other indisposition of their
mind,) that then they straight overwhelm them,
and alter them. Now, the spirits are contained in
the same state, by a restraining of the affi ctions,
temperateness of diet, abstinence from Venus,
moderation in labour, indifferent rest and repose,
and the contrary to these do alter and overwhelm
the spirits; as, namely, vehement affections, pro-
fuse feastings, immoderate Venus, difficult labours,
earnest studies, and prosecution of business. Yet
men are wont, when they are merriest and best
4yt5
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
disposed, then to apply themselves to feastings,
Venus, labours, endeavours, business, whereas, if
they have a regard to long life, (which may seem
strange,) they should rather practise the contrary.
For we ought to cherish and preserve good spirits ;
and for the evil disposed spirits to discharge and
alter them.
95. Ficinus saith not unwisely, that old men,
for the comforting of their spirits, ought often to
remember and ruminate upon the acts of their
childhood and youth; certainly such a remem-
brance is a liind of peculiar recreation to every old
man: and, therefore, it is a delight to men to
enjoy the society of them which have been brought
up together with them, and to visit the places of
their education. Vespasian did attribute so much
to this matter, that when he was emperor, he would
by no means be persuaded to leave his father's
house, though but mean, lest he should lose the
wonted object of his eyes, and the memory of his
childhood. And besides, he would drink in a
wooden cup tipped with silver, which was his
grandmother's, upon festival days.
9G. One thing above all is grateful to the spi-
rits, that there be a continual progress to the more
benign; therefore we should lead such a youth
and manhood, that our old age should find new
solaces, whereof the chief is moderate ease: and,
therefore, old men in honourable places lay vio-
lent hands upon themselves, who retire not to their
ease; whereof may be found an eminent example
in Cassiodorus, who was of that reputation
amongst the gothish Kings of Italy, that he was
as the soul of their affairs; afterwards, being near
eighty years of age, he betook himself to a mo-
nastery, where he ended not his days before he
was a hundred years old. But this thing doth
require two cautions : one, that they drive not oif
till their bodies be utterly worn out and diseased ;
for in such bodies all mutation, though to the more
benign, hasteneth death ; the other, that they sur-
render not themselves to a sluggish ease, but that
they embrace something which may entertain their
thoughts and mind with contentation ; in which
kind, the chief delights are reading and contem-
plation, and then the desires of building and
planting.
97. Lastly: the same action, endeavour, and
labour, undertaken cheerfully and with a good
will, doth refresh the spirits, but with an aversa-
tion and unwillingness, doth fret and deject them ;
and therefore it conferreth to long life, either that
a man hath the art to institute his life so as it may
be free and suitable to his own humour, or else to
lay such a command upon his mind, that whatso-
ever is ir:posed by fortune, it may rather lead him
than drag him.
98. Neither is that to be omitted towards the
«»overnment of the affections, that especial care be
taken of the mouth of the stomach, especially that
it be not too much relaxed ; for that part hath a
greater dominion over the affections, especially
the daily afiections, than eithej the heart or brain,
only those things excepted which are wrought by
potent vapours, as in drunkenness and melan-
choly.
99. Touching the operation upon the spirits,
that they may remain youthful, and renew their
vigour thus much, which we have done more accu-
rately, for that there is for the most part amongst
physicians, and other authors, touching these
operations, a deep silence ; but especially, because
the operation upon the spirits, and their waxing
green again, is the most ready and compendious
way to long life, and that for a twofold compen-
dioiisness; one, because the spirits work compen-
diously upon the body ; the other, because vapours
and the affections work compendiously upon the
spirits, so as these attain the end, as it were, in a
right line, other things rather in lines circular.
11. The Operation upon the Exclusion of the Jlir
The History.
1. The exclusion of the air ambient tendeth to
length of life two ways ; first, for that the external
air, next unto the native spirits, howsoever the air
may be said, to animate the spirit of man, and con-
ferreth not a little to health, doth most of all prey
upon the juices of the body, and hasten the desic-
cation thereof; and therefore the exclusion of it
is effectual to length of life.
2. Another effect which followeth the exclusion
of air is much more subtile and profound : namely,
that the body closed up, and nov perspiring by
the pores, detaineth the spirits within, and turneth
it upon the harder parts of the body, whereby the
spirit mollifies and intenerates them.
3. Of this thing, the reason is explained in the
desiccation of inanimate bodies, and it is an axi^om
almost infallible, that the spirit discharged and
issuing forth, drieth bodies ; detained, melteth and
iKtenerateth them. And it is further to be assumed,
that all heat doth properly attenuate and moisten,
and contracteth and drieth only by accident.
4. Leading the life in dens and caves, where
the air receives not the sunbeams, may be effectual
to long life. For the air of itself doth not much
towards the depredation of the body, unless it be
stirred up by heat. Certainly, if a man shall
recall things past to his memory, it will appear
that the statures of men have been anciently much
greater than those that succeeded, as in Sicily
and some other places : but this kind of men led
their lives, for the most part, in caves. Now,
length of life, and largeness of limbs, have some
affinity ; the cave also of Epimenides walks among
the fables. I suppose likewise, that the life of
columnar anchorites was a thing resembling the
life in caves, in respect the sunbeams could not
much pierce thither, nor the ai/ receive any great
changes or inequalities. This is certain, both the
Simeon Stelitas, as well Daniel as Saba, and
HISTOIIY OF LIFE AxND DEATH.
497
»tth(T co.umnar anchorites, have been exceeding
long-lived ; likewise the anchorites in our days,
closed up and iinuiured either within walls or
pillars, are often found to be long-lived.
5. Next unto the life in caves, is the life on
mountains: for as the beams of the sun do not
penetrate into caves, so on the tops of mountains,
being destitute of reflection, they are of small
force. But this is to be understood of mountains
where the air is clear and pure; namely, whether
by reason of the dryness of the valleys, clouds and
vapours do not ascend, as it is in the mountains
which encompass Barhary, where, even at this
day, they live many times to a hundred and fifty
years, as hath been noted before.
6. And this kind of air of caves and mountains,
of its own proper nature, is little or nothing pre-
datory; but air, such as ours is, which is preda-
tory through the heat of the sun, ought as much
as is possible to be excluded from the body.
7. But the air is prohibited and excluded two
ways: first, by closing the pores: secondly, by
filling them up.
8. To the closing of the pores, help coldness of
the air, going naked, whereby the skin is made
hard, washing in cold water, astringents applied
to the skin, such as are mastick, myrrhe, myrtle.
9. But much more may we satisfy this opera-
tion by baths, yet those rarely used, (especially
in summer,) which are made of astringent mineral
waters, such as may safely be used, as waters par-
ticipating of steel and copperas, for these do po-
tently contract the skin.
10. As for filling cp the pores, paintings, and
such like unctuous daubings, and (which may
most commodiously be used) oil and fat things,
do no less conserve the substance of the body,
than oil colours and varnish do preserve wood.
11 The ancient Britons painted their bodies
with woad, and were exceeding long-lived ; the
Picts also used paintings, and are thought by
some to have derived their name from thence.
12. The Brazilians and Virginians paint them-
selves at this day, who are (especially the former)
very long-lived ; insomuch that five years ago, the
French Jesuites had speech with some who re-
membered the building of Fernambuck, which
was done a hundred and twenty years since, and
they were then at man's estate.
13. Joannes de Temporibus, who is reported to
have extended his life to three hundred years,
Deing asked how he preserved himself so long, is
said to have answered. By oil without, and by
honey within.
14. The Irish, especially the wild Irish, even at
this day live very long; certainly they report,
that within these few years, the Countess of Des-
mond lived to a hundred and forty years of age,
and bred teeth three times. Now the Irish have
a fashion to chafe, and, as it were, to baste them-
selves with old salt butter against the fire.
V 01.. Ill— G.3
15. The same Irish used to wear saffroned linen
and shirts, which, though it were at first devised
to prevent vermin, yet howsoever 1 take it to he
very useful for lengthening of life ; for saffron, of
all things that I know, is thff best thing for the
skin, and the comforting of the flesh, seeing it
is both notably astringent, and hath besides an
oleosity and subtile heat without any acrimony.
I remember a certain Englishman who when he
went to sea carried a bag of saffron next his
stomach, that he might conceal it, and so escape
custom; and whereas he was wont to be always
exceeding seasick, at that time he continued very
well, and felt no provocation to vomit.
10. Hippocrates adviseth in winter to wear
clean linen, and in summer foul linen, and be-
smeared with oil : the reason may seem to be, be-
cause in summer the spirits exhale most, therefore
the pores of the skin would be filled up.
17. Hereupon we are of opinion that the use of
oil, either of olives or sweet almonds, to anoint the
skin therewith, would principally conduce to long
life. The anointing would be done every morn-
ing when we rise out of bed with oil, in which a
little bay-salt and saffron is mixed. But this
anointing must be lightly done with wool, or
some soft sponge, not laying it on thick, but
gently touching and wetting the skin.
18. It is certain that liquors, even the oily
themselves, in great quantities draw somewhat
from the body ; but, contrarily, in small quantities
are drunk in by the body ; therefore the anointing
would be but light as we said, or rather the shirt
itself would be besmeared with oil.
19. It may happily be objected that this anoint-
ing with oil which we commend (though it were
never in use with us, and amongst the Italians
is cast off again) was anciently very familiar
amongst the Grecians and Romans, and a part of
their diet, and yet men were not longer lived in
those days than now. But it may rightly be an-
swered, oil was in use only after baths, unless it
were perhaps amongst champions ; now hot baths
are as much contrary to our operation as anoint-
ings are congruous, seeing the one opens the
passages, the other stops them up; therefore the
bath without the anointing following is utterly
bad, the anointing without the bath is best of all.
Besides, the anointing amongst them was used
only for delicacy, or (if you take it at the best)
for health, but by no means in order to long life ;
and therefore they used them with all precious
ointments, which were good for deliciousness,
but hurtful to our intention, in regard of their
heat ; so that Virgil seemeth not to have said
amiss,
Nee casift liquid! corrumpitur iisiis olivi.
That odoriferous cassia hath not supplanted the use ot ne^t
oil olive.
20. Anointing with oil conduceth to health,
both in winter, by the exclusion of the lold jiir,
2t3
498
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
and in summer, by detaining the spirits within,
and prohibiting the resolution of them, and keep-
ing off the force of the air, which is then most
predatory.
21. Seeing the afiointing with oil is one of the
most potent operations to long life, we have
thought good to add some cautions, lest the health
should be endangered; they are four, according
to the four inconveniences which may follow
thereupon.
22. The first inconvenience is, that by repress-
ing sweats it may engender diseases from those
excrementitious humours. To this a remedy must
be given by purges and clysters, that evacuation
may be duly performed. This is certain, that
evacuation by sweats commonly ad vanceth health,
and derogateth from long life, but gentle purges
work upon the humours, not upon the spirits as
sweat doth.
23. The second inconvenience is, that it may
heat the body, and in time inflame it; for the
spirits shut in, and not breathing forth, acquire
heat. This inconvenience may be prevented, if
the diet most usually incline to the colder part,
and that at times some proper cooling medicines
be taken, of which we shall straight speak in the
operation upon the blood.
24. The third is, that it may annoy the head ;
for all oppletion from without strikes back the va-
pours, and sends them up into the head. This
inconvenience is remedied by purgers, especially
clysters, and by shutting the mouth of the stomach
strongly with styptics, and by combing and rub-
bing the head, and by washiilg it with convenient
lees, that something may exhale, and by not
omitting competent and good exercises, that
something also may perspire by the skin.
25. The fourth inconvenience is a more subtile
ovil ; namely, that the spirit being detained by the
closing up of the pores, is likely to multiply it-
self too much; for when little issueth forth, and
new spirit is continually engendered, the spirit
increaseth too fast, and so preyeth upon the body
more plentifully. But this is not altogether so ;
for all spirit closed up is dull, (for it is blown and
excited with motion as flame is,) and therefore it
is less active, and less generative of itself ; indeed
it is thereby increased in heat, (as flame is,) but
slow in motion. And therefore the remedy to this
inconvenience must be by cold things, being
sometimes mixed with oil, such as are roses and
myrtles, for we must altogether disclaim hot
things, as we said of cassia.
26. Neither will it be unprofitable to wear
next the body garments that have in them some
■inotuosity, or oleosity, not aquosity, for they
will exhaust the body less; such as are those of
woollen, rather than those of linen. Certainly it
1*8 manifi^st in the spirits of odours, that if you lay
sweet powders amongst linen, they will much
sooner lose their smell than amongst woollen, t
And therefore linen is to be preferred for delicacy
and neatness, but to be suspected for our ope-
ration.
27. The wild Irish, as soon as they fall sick,
the first thing they do is to take the sheets off
their beds, and to wrap themselves in the woollen
clothes.
28. Some report that they have found great
benefit in the conservation of their health, by
wearing scarlet waistcoats next their skin, and
under their shirts, as well down to the nether
parts as on the upper.
29. It is also to be observed, that air accustom-
ed to the body doth less prey upon it than new air
and often changed ; and therefore poor people, in
small cottages, who live always within the smell
of the same chimney, and change not their seats,
are commonly longest lived ; notwithstanding, to
other operations (especially for them whose spirits
are not altogether dull) we judge change of air to
be very profitable, but a mean must be used which
may satisfy on both sides. This may be done by
removing our habitation four times a year, at con-
stant and set times, unto convenient seats, that so
the body may neither he in too much peregrina-
tion, nor in too much station. And touching the
operation upon the exclusion of air, and avoiding
the predatory force thereof, thus much.
III. The Operation upon the Blood, and the San-
guifying Heat.
The history.
1. The following operations answer to the two
precedent, and are in the relation of passives and
actives; for the two precedent intend this, that
the spirits and air in their actions may be the
less depredatory. But because the blood is an
irrigation or watering of the juices and members,
and a preparation to them, therefore we will put
the operation upon the blood in the first place :
concerning this operation we will propound cer-
tain counsels, few in number, but very powerful
in virtue : they are three.
2. First, there is no doubt, but that if the blood
be brought to a cold temper, it will be so much
the less dissipable. But because the cold things
which are taken by the mouth agree but ill with
many other intentions, therefore it will be best to
find out some such things as may be free from
these inconveniences.
3. The first is this : let there be brought into
use, especially in youth, clysters not purging at
all, or absterging, but only cooling, and some-
what opening : those are approved which are
made of the juices of lettuce, purslane, liverwort,
house-leek, and the mucilage of the seed of flea-
wort, with some temperate opening decoction,
and a little camphire; but in the declining age
let the house-leek and purslane be left out, and
the juices of borage and endive, and the like, he
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
499
put in their rooms. And let these clysters be re-
tained, if it may be for an hour or more.
4. The other is this, let there be in use, espe-
cially in summer, baths of fresh water, and but
lukewarm, altoirellier without emollients, as mal-
lows, mercury, milk, and the like; rather take new
M-hey in some good quantity, and roses.
5. But (that which is the principal in this in-
tention and new) we advise that before the bath-
inir, the body be anointed with oil, with some
thickness, whereby the quality of the cooling may
be received, and the water excluded : yet let not
the pores of the body be shut too close, for when
the outward cold closcth up the body too strongly,
it is so far from furthering coolness, that it rather
forbids, and stirs up heat.
6. Like unto this is the use of bladders, with
some decoctions and cooling juices, applied to the
inferior region of the body, namely, from the ribs
to the privy parts : for this also is a kind of bath-
ing, where the body of the liquor is for the most
part excluded, and the cooling quality admitted.
7. The third counsel remaineth, which belong-
3th not to the quality of the blood, but to the sub-
stance thereof, that it may be made more firm and
less dissipable, and such as the heat of the spirit
may have the less power over it.
8. And as for the use of filings of gold, leaf-gold,
powder of pearl, precious stones, coral, and the
like, we have no opinion of them at this day, un-
less it be only as they may satisfy this present
operation. Certainly, seeing the Arabians, Gre-
cians, and modern physicians, have attributed
such virtues to these things, it cannot be altogether
nothing, which so great men have observed of
them. And, therefore, omitting all fantastical
opinions about them, we do verily believe, that if
there could be some such things conveyed into
the whole mass of the blood in minute and fine
portions, over which the spirits and heat should
have little or no power, absolutely it would not
only resist putrefaction, but arefaction also, and
be a most effectual means to the prolongation of
life. Nevertheless, in this thing several cautions
are to be given ; first, that there be a most exact
comminution : secondly, that such hard and solid
things be void of all malignant qualities, lest
while they be dispersed and lurk in the veins,
they breed some illconvenience : thirdly, that they
be never taken together with meats, nor in any
such manner as they may stick long, lest they
beget dangerous obstructions about the mesentery :
lastly, that they be taken very rarely, that they
mny not coagulate and knot together in the veins.
9. Therefore, let the manner of taking them be
fasting, in white wine, a little oil of almonds
mingled therewith, exercise used immediately
upon the taking of them.
10. The simples which may satisfy this opera-
lion are, instead of ail, gold, pearls, and coral ; for
all metals, except gold, are not without some
malignant quality in the dissolutions of them,
neither will they be beaten to that exquisite fine-
ness that leaf-gold hath. As for all glassy and
transparent jewels, we like them not, (as we said
before,) for fear of corrosion.
11. But, in our judgment, the safer and more
effectual way would be by the use of woods in
infusions and decoctions ; for there is in them suf-
ficient to cause firmness of blood, and not the like
danger for breeding obstructions; but especially,
because they may be taken in meat and drink,
whereby they will find the more easy entrance
into the veins, and not be avoided in excrements.
12. The woods fit for this purpose are sanders,
the oak, and vine. As for all hot woods or some-
thing rosiny, we reject them ; notwithstanding,
you may add the woody stalks of rosemary dried,
for rosemary is a shrub, and exceedeth in age
many trees, also the woody stalks of ivy, but in
such quantity as they may not yield an unpleas-
ing taste.
13. Let the woods be taken either boiled in
broths, or infused in must or ale before they leave
working; but in broths (as the custom is for guai-
acum and the like) they would be infused a good
while before the boiling, that the firmer part of the
wood, and not that only which lieth loosely, may
be drawn forth. As for ash, though it be used for
cups, yet we like it not. And touching the opera-
tion upon the blood, thus much.
IV. 27<e Operation upon the Juices of the Body.
The history.
1. There are two kinds of bodies (as was said
before in the inquisition touching inanimates)
which are hardly consumed, hard things and fat
things, as is seen in metals and stones, and in oil
and wax.
2. It must be ordered, therefore, that the juice
of the body be somewhat hard, and that it be fat
or subroscid.
3. As for hardness, it is caused three ways : by
aliment of a firm nature, by cold condensing the
skin and flesh, and by exercise, binding and com-
pacting the juices of the body, that they be not
soft and frothy.
4. As for the nature of the aliment, it ought to
be such as is not easily dissipable, such as are
beef, swine's flesh, deer, goat, kid, swan, goose,
ringdove, especially if they be a little powdered ;
fish is likewise salted and dried, old cheese, and
the like.
5. As for the bread, oaten bread or bread with
some mixture of pease in it, or rye bread, or barley
bread, are more solid than wheat bread, and in
wheat bread, the coarse wheat bread is more solid
than the pure manchet.
6. The inhabitants of the Orcades, which live
upon salted fish, and generally all fish eaters, aie
long-lived.
7. The monks and hermits wnich fed sparingly.
500
HISTORY OF LIFE Ax\D DEATH.
and upon dry aliment, attained commonly to a
great age.
8. Also, pure water usually drunk, makes the
juices of the body less frothy; unto which if, for
the dulness of the spirits, (which no doubt in
water are but a little penetrative,) you shall add a
little nitre, we conceive it would be very good.
And touching the firmness of the aliment, thus
much.
9. As for the condensation of the skin and flesh
by cold : they are longer lived for the most part
that live abroad in the open air, than they that
live in houses ; and the inhabitants of the cold
countries, than the inhabitants of the hot.
10. Great store of clothes, either upon the bed
or back, do resolve the body.
11. Washing the body in cold water is good for
length of life; use of hot baths is naught: touch-
ing baths of astringent mineral waters, we have
spoken before.
12. As for exercise, an idle life doth manifestly
make the flesh soft and dissipable: robust exer-
cise (so it be without overmuch sweating or wea-
riness) maketh it hard and compact. Also exer-
cise within cold water, as swimming, is very
good ; and generally exercise abroad is better than
that within houses.
13. Touching frications, (which are a kind of
exercise,) because they do rather call forth the
aliment that hardens the flesh, we will inquire
hereafter in the due place.
14. Having now spoken of hardeningthe juices
of the body, we are to come next to the oleosity
and fatness of them, which is a more perfect and
potent intention than induration, because it hath
no inconvenience or evil annexed. For all those
things which pertain to the hardening of the
juices are of that nature, that while they prohibit
the absumption of the aliment, they also hinder
the operation of the same; whereby it happens,
that the same things are both propitious and ad-
verse to length of life; but those things which
pertain to making the juices oily and roscid, help
on both sides, for they render the aliment both
less dissipable, and more reparable.
15. But, whereas we say that the juice of the
body ought to be roscid and fat, it is to be noted
that we mean it not of a visible fat, but of a dewi-
ness dispersed, or (if you will call it) radical in
the very substance of the body.
16. Neither again let any man think, that oil,
or the fat of meat or marrow, do engender the like,
and satisfy our intention: for those things which
are once perfect are not brought back again ; but
the aliments ought to be such, which after diges-
tion and maturation, do then in the end engender
oleosity in the juices.
17. Neither again let any man think, that oil
t>T fat by itself and simple is hard of dissipation;
but in mixture it doth not retain the same nature:
for da o'' by itself is much more longer in con-
suming than water, so in paper or linen, it sticketh
longer, and is later dried, as we noted before.
18. To the irroration of the body, roasted meats
or baked meats are more eflfectual than boiled
meats, and all preparation of meat with water is
inconvenient ; besides oil is more plentifully ex-
tracted out of dried bodies than out of moist bodies,
19. Generally, to the irroration of the body
much use of sweet things is profitable, as of
sugar, honey, sweet almonds, pineapples, pis-
tachios, dates, raisins of the sun, corans, figs, and
the like. Contrarily, all sour, and very salt, and
very biting things are opposite to the generation
of roscid juice.
20. Neither would we be thought to favour tht.
Maenichees, or their diet, though we commend
the frequent use of all kinds of seeds, kernels,
and roots in meats or sauces, considering all bread
(and bread is that which maketh the meat firm)
is made either of seeds or roots.
21. But there is nothing makes so much to the
irroration of the body as the quality of the drink,
which is the convoy of the meat ; therefore, let
there be in use such drinks as without all acri-
mony or sourness are notwithstanding subtile;
such are those wines which are (as the old wo-
man said in Plautu^) vetustate edentula, toothless
with age, and ale of the same kind.
22. Mead (as we suppose) would net be ill if
it were strong and old ; but because all honey
hath in it some sharp parts, (as appears by that
sharp water which the chymists extract out of
it, which will dissolve metals,) it were better to
take the same portion of sugar, not lightly in-
fused into it, but so incorporated as honey uselh
to be in mead, and to keep it to the age of a year,
or at least six months, whereby the water may
lose the crudity, and the sugar acquire subtilty.
23. Now, ancientness in wine or beer hath this
in it, that it engenders subtilty in the parts of the
liquor, and acrimony in the spirits, whereof the
first is profitable, and the second hurtful. Now,
to rectify this evil commixture, let th«re be put
into the vessel, before the wine be separated from
the must, swine's flesh or deer's flesh well boiled,
that the spirits of the wine may have whereupon
to ruminate and feed, and so lay aside their mor-
dacity.
24. In like manner, if ale should be made not
only with the grains of wheat, barley, oats, pease,
and the like, but also should admit a part (sup-
pose a third part to these grains) of some fat
roots, such as are potado roots, pith of artichokes,
burre roots, or some other sweet and esculent
roots; we suppose it would be a more useful
drink for long life than the ale made of grains
only.
Also, such things as have very thin parts, yet,
notwithstanding, are without all acrimony or
mordacity, are very good salads; which virtue
we find to be in some few of the flowers, namely,
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
501
flowers of ivy, which, infused in vinegar, are
pleasant even to the taste, marigold leaves, which
are used in hroths, and flowers of betony. And,
toiicliing the operation upon the juices of the
bodj, tluis mucii.
V. The Oneration vpon the Bowels of their Extru-
sion of Jilinient.
The history.
1. What those things are which comfort the
principal bowels, which are the fountains of
concoctions, namely, the stomach, liver, heart,
and brain, to perform their functions well, (where-
by aliinetil is distributed into the parts, spirits are
dispersed, and the reparation of the whole body
is accomplished,) may be derived from physi-
cians, and from their prescripts and advices.
2. Touciiing the spleen, gall, kidneys, mesen-
teries, guts, and lungs, we speak not, for these
are members ministering to the principal, and
whereas speech is made touching health, they
require sometimes a most special consideration,
because eacfe of these have their diseases, which,
unless they be cured, will have influence upon
the principal members. But, as touching the
prolongation of life, and reparation by aliments,
and retardation of the incoction of old age ; if
the- concoctions and those principal bowels be
well disposed, the rest will commonly follow
according to one's wish.
3. And as for those things which, according
to the different state of every man's body, may
he transferred into his diet, and the regiment
of his life, he may collect them out of the
books of physicians, which have written of
the comforting and preserving the four prin-
cipal members; for conservation of health hath
commonly need of no more than some short
courses of physic, but Icn'gth of life cannot be
hoped without an orderly diet, and a constant
race of sovereign medicines. But we will pro-
pound some few, and those the most select and
prime directions.
4. The stomach (which, as they say, is the
master of the house, and whose strength and
goodness is fundamental to the other concoctions)
ought so to be guarded and confirmed that it may
bo without intemperateness hot; next, astricted
or bound, not loose ; furthermore, clean, not sur-
charged with foul humours, and yet (in regard it
is nourished from itself, and not from the veins)
not altogether empty or hungry; lastly, it is to be
kept ever in appetite, because appetite stiarpens
digestion.
5. I wonder much how that same calidum bi-
bere, to drink warm drink, (which was in use
amongst the ancients,) is laid down again. I
inew a physician that was very famous, who, in
the beginning of dinner and supper, would usu-
ally eat a few spoonfuls of very warm broth with
much greediness, and then would presently wish
that it were out again, saying, he had no need of
the broth, but only of the warmth.
C. I do verily conceive it good that the first
draught either of wine, or ale, or any other drink
(to which a man is most accustomed) be taken
at supper warm.
7. Wine in which gold hath been quenched, I
conceive, would be very good once in a ni'^al ;
not that I believe the gold conferreth any virtue
thereunto, but that I know that the quenching of
all metals in any kind of licjuor doth leave a most
potent astriction. Now, I choose gold, because,
besides that astriction Mhich I desire, it leaveth
nothing behind it of a metalline impression.
8. I am of opinion that the sops of bread dip-
ped in wine, taken at the midst of the meal, are
better than wine itself, especially if there were
infused into the wine in which the sops were dip-
ped, rosemary and citron pill, and that with sugar,
that it may not slip too fast.
9. It is certain that the use of quinces is good
to strengthen the stomach, but we take them to
be better if they he used in that which they call
quiddeny of quinces, than in the bodies of the
quinces themselves, because tliey lie heavy in
the stomach. But those quiddenies are best
taken, after meals, alone; before meals, dipped
in vinegar.
10. Such things as are good for the stomach
above other simples are these, rosemary, elecam-
pane, mastic, wormwood, sage, mint.
11. I allow pills of aloes, mastic, and saffron,
winter-time, taken before dinner, but so as the
aloes be not only oftentimes washed in rose-water,
but also in vinegar in which tragacanth hath been
infused, and after that be macerated for a few hours
in oil of sweet almonds new drawn, before it be
made into pills.
12. Wine or ale, wherein wormwood has been
infused, with a little elecampane and yellow
Sanders, will do well, taken at times, and that
especially in winter.
13. But in summer, a draught of white wine
allayed with strawberry water, in which wine,
powder of pearls, and of the shells of crawfishes
exquisitely beaten, and (which may, perhaps,
seem strange) a little chalk have been infused,
doth excellently refresh and strengthen the
stomach.
14. But, generally, all draughts in the morn-
ing (which are but too frequently used) of cool-
ing things, as of juices, decoctions, whey, barley
waters, and the like, are to be avoided, and no-
thing is to be put into the stomach fasting which
is purely cold. These things are better given, if
need require, either at five in the afternoon, oi
else an hour after a light breakfast.
15. Often fastings are bad for long life; be-
sides, all thirst is to be avoided, and the stomach
is to be kept clean, but always moist.
16. Oil of olives new and good, in which a
ft 02
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
little mithridate hath been dissolved, anointed
upon the backbone, just against the mouth of the
stomach, doth wonderfully comfort the stomach.
17. A small bag filled with locks of scarlet
wool steeped in red wine, in which myrtle, and
citron pill, and a little saffron have been infused,
may be always worn upon the stomach. And
touching those things which comfort the stomach,
thus much, seeing many of those things also
which serve for other operations are helpful to
this.
18. The liver, if it be preserved from torrefac-
tinn or desiccation, and from obstruction, it need-
eth no more; for that looseness of it which begets
aquosities is plainly a disease, but the other two,
old age approaching induceth.
19. Hereunto appertain most especially those
things which are set down in the operation upon
the blood ; we will add a very few things more,
but those selected.
20. Principally, let there be in use the wine of
sweet pomegranates; or, if that cannot be had,
the juice of them newly pressed ; let it be taken
in the morning with a little sugar, and into the
glass into which the expression is made put a
small piece of citron pill, green, and three or four
whole cloves; let this be taken from February
till the end of April.
21. Bring also into use, above all other herbs,
water-cresses, but young, not old ; they may be
used either raw in sallets, or in broths, or in
drinks; and after that take spoonwort.
22. Aloes, however washed or corrected, is
hurtful for the liver, and therefore it is never to
be taken ordinarily. Contrariwise, rhubarb is
sovereign for the liver, so that these three cau-
tions be interposed : First, that it be taken before
meat, lest it dry the body too much, or leave some
impressions of the stypicity thereof. Secondly,
that it be macerated an hour or two in oil of sweet
almonds new drawn, with rosewater, before it be
infused in liquor, or given in the proper substance.
Thirdly, that it be taken by turns, one while
simple, another while with tartar, or a little bay-
salt, that it carry not away the lighter parts only,
and make the mass of the humours the more ob-
stinate.
23. I allow wine, or some decoction with steel,
to be taken three or four times in the year, to
open the more strong obstructions ; yet so that a
draught of two or three spoonfuls of oil of sweet
almonds, new drawn, ever go before, and the mo-
rion of the body, especially of the arms and sides,
constantly follow.
24 Sweetened liquors, and that with some fat-
ness, are principally, and not a little effectual to
prevent the arefaction, and saltness, and torrefac-
tion ; and, in a word, the oldness of the liver, espe-
niaily if they be well incorporated with age. They
sire made of sweet fruits and roots ; as, namely, tlie
wines and julips of raisins of the sun new, jujubes,
dried figs, dates, parsnips, potatoes, and the like,
with the mixture of liquorice sometimes. Also, a
julip of the Indian grain, (which they call maize,)
with the mixture of some sweet things, doth
much to the same end. But it is to be noted,
that the intention of preserving the liver in a kind
of softness and fatness, is much more powerful
than that other which pertains to the opening of
the liver, which rather tendeth to healtii, liian to
length of life, saving that obstruction which in-
duceth torrefaction, is as opposite to long life as
those other arefactions.
25. I commend the roots of succory, spinage,
and beets cleared of their piths, and boiled till
they be tender in water, with a third part of white
wine, for ordinary sallets, to be eaten with oil
and vinegar. Also asparagus, pith of artichokes,
and burroots boiled and served in after the same
manner. Also broths in the spring-time of vine-
buds, and the green blades of wheat. And touch-
ing the preserving of the liver, thus much.
26. The heart receiveth benefit or harm most
from the air which we breathe, from vftpours, and
from the affections. Now, many of those things
which have been formerly spoken, touching the
spirits, may be transferred hither; but that undi-
gested mass of cordials collected by physicians
avails little to our intention ; notwithstanding,
those things which are found to be good against
poisons, may, with good judgment, be given to
strengthen and fortify the heart, especially if they
be of that kind, that they do not so much resist
the particular poisons, as arm the heart and spirits
against poison in general. And touching these
several cordials, you may repair to the table
already set down.
27. The goodness of the air is better known
by experience than by signs. We hold that air
to be best where the country is level and plain,
and that lieth open on all sides, so that the soil
be dry, and yet not barren or sandy ; which puts
forth wild thyme, and eyebright, and a kind of
marjoram, and here and there stalks of calamint ;
which is not altogether void of wood, but conve-
niently set with some trees for shade, where the
sweetbrier-rose smelleth something musky and
aromatically. If there be rivers, we suppose
them rather hurtful than good, unless they be
very small, and clear, and gravelly.
28. It is certain, that the morning air is more
lively and refreshing than the evening air, though
the latter be preferred out of delicacy.
29. We conceive also, that the air stirred with
a gentle wind, is more wholesome than the air of
a serene and calm sky ; but the best is, the wind
blowing from the west in the morning, and from
the north in the afternoon.
30. Odours are especially profitable for the
comforting of the heart, yet not so, as though ?
good odour were the prerogative of a good air ;
for it is certain, that as there are some pestilential
HISTORY OF LIFK AND DEATH.
503
airs whicn smell not s: ill as others that are less
Hurtful ; 80, on the contrary, there are some airs
most wholesome and friendly to the spirits, which
either smell not at all, or are less pleasing and
fragrant to the sense. And generally, when the
air is good, odours should he taken but now and
tlien ; for a continual odour, though never so
good, is burdensome to the spirits.
31. We commend, above all others, (as we
have touched before,) odour of plants growing,
and not |)lucked, taken in the open air; the prin-
cipal of that kind are, violets, gilliflowers, pinks,
bean-dowers, lime tree blossoms, vine-buds, ho-
neysuckles, yellow wallflowers, musk-roses, (for
other roses growing are fast of their smells,)
strawberry leaves, especially dying, sweetbrier,
principally in the early spring, wild mint, lavender
flowered ; and in the hotter countries, orange
tree, citron tree, myrtle, laurel. Therefore, to
walk or sit near the breath of these plants, would
not be neglected.
32. For the comforting of the heart, we prefer
cool smells before hot smells; therefore, the best
perfume is, either in the morning, or about the
heat of tlie day, to take an equal portion of vine-
gar, rose-water, and claret wine, and to pour them
upon a firepan somewhat heated.
33. Neither let us be thought to sacrifice to
our mother the earth, though we advise that, in
digging or ploughing the earth for health, a quan-
tity of claret wine be poured thereon.
34. Orange-flower water, pure and good, with
a small portion of rose-water, and brisk wine,
snuffed up into the nostrils, or put into the nos-
trils with a syringe, after the manner of an errhine,
(but not too frequently,) is very good.
35. But champing, (though we have no betel,)
or holding in the mouth only of such things as
cheer the spirits, (even daily done,) is exceed-
ing comfortable. Therefore, for that purpose
make grains, or little cakes of ambergris, musk,
lignum aloes, lignum rhodium, orras powder, and
roses ; and let those grains or cakes be made up
with rose-water which hath passed through a lit-
tle Indian balsam.
3G. The vapours which, arising from things
inwardly taken, do fortify and cherish the heart,
ought to have these three properties, that they be
friendly, clear, and cooling; for hot vapours are
naught, and wine itself, which is thought to have
only a heating vapour, is not altogether void of an
opiate quality. Now we call those vapours clear,
which have more of the vapours than of the ex-
halation, and which are not smoky, or fuliginous,
or unctuous, but moist and equal.
37. Out of that unprofitable rabble of cordials
a tew ought to be taken into daily diet; instead
of all, ambergris, saffron, and the grain of Kermes,
of the hotter sort. Roots of bugloss and borage,
pitrons, sweet lemons, and pearmains, of the
colder sort. Also, that way which we said, both
' gold and pearls work a good effect, not only
I within the veins, but in" their passage, and about
the parts near the heart; namely, by cooling,
without any malignant quality.
38. Of bezoar-stone we believe well, because
of many trials ; but then the manner of taking
it ought to be such, as the virtue thereof may
more easily be communicated to the spirits.
Therefore, we approve not the taking of it in
broths or syrups, or in rose-water, or any huch
like ; but only in wine, cinnamon-water, or the
like distilled water, but that weak r small, not
burning or strong.
39. Of the affections we have spoken before:
we only add this, that every noble, and resolute,
and (as they call it) heroical desire, strengtheneth
and enlargeth the powers of the heart. And
touching the heart, thus much.
40. As for the brain, where the seat and court
of the animal spirits is kept, those things which
were inquired before touching opium, and nitre,
and the subordinates to them both ; also touching
the procuring of placid sleep, may likewise be
referred hither. This also is most certain, that
the brain is in some sort in the custody of the
stomach ; and, therefore, those things which com-
fort and strengthen the stomach, do help the brain
by consent, and may no less be transferred
hither. We will add a few observations, three
outward, one inward.
41. We would have bathing of the feet to be
often used, at least once in a week ; and the bath
to be made of lye with bay-salt, and a little sage,
camomile, fennel, sweet marjoram, and pepper-
wort, with the leaves of angelica green.
42. We commend also a fume or suffumigation
every morning of dried rosemary, bay leaves
dried, and lignum aloes; for all sweet gums
oppress the head.
43. Especially care must be taken that no hot
things be applied to the head outwardly; such are
all kind of spices, the very nutmeg not excepted ;
for those hot things, we debase them to the soles
of the feet, and would have them applied there
only; but a light anointing of the head with oil,
mixed with roses, myrtle, and a little salt and
saffron, we much commend.
44. Not forgetting those things which we have
before delivered touching opiates, nitre, and the
like, which so much condense the spirits ; we
think it not impertinent to that effect that once in
fourteen days broth be taken in the morning with
three or four grains of castoreum, and a little an-
gelica seed, and calamus, which both fortify tho
brain, and in that aforesaid density of the sub-
stance of the spirits, (so necessary to long
life,) add also a vivacity of motion and vigour
to them.
45. In handling the comforters of the foui
principal bowels we have propounded lho<«
things which are both proper ana choice, and tcay
504
HISTORY OF LIFE AND D?:ATH.
safely and conveniently be transferred into diets
and regiment of life; for variety of medicines is
the daughter of ignorance ; and it is not more
true, that many dishes have caused many diseases,
as the proverb is, than this is true, thai many
medicines have caused few cures. And touching
the operation upon the principal bowels for their
extrusion of aliment, thus much.
VI. The Operation upon the Outward Farts for
their Jttraction of Aliment.
The history.
1. Although a good concoction performed by
the inward parts be the principal towards a per-
fect alimentation, yet the actions of the outward
parts ouglit also to concur; that like as the
inward faculty sendeth forth and extrudeth the
aliment, so the faculty of the outward parts may
call forth, and attract the same ; and the more
weak the faculty of concoction shall be, the more
need is there of a concurring help of the attractive
faculty.
2. A strong attraction of the outward parts is
chiefly caused by the motion of the body, by
which the parts being heated and comforted, do
more cheerfully call forth and attract the aliment
unto themselves.
3. But this is most of all to be foreseen and
avoided, that the same motion and heat which
calls the new juice to the members, doth not again
despoil tlie member of that juice wherewith it
had been before refreshed.
4. Frications used in the morning serve espe-
cially to this intention; but this must evermore
accompany them, that after the frication, the part
being lightly anointed with oil, lest the attrition
of the outward parts make them by perspiration
dry and juiceless.
5. The next is exercise, (by which the parts
confricate and chafe themselves,) so it be mode-
rate, and which (as was noted before) is not
swift, nor to the utmost strength, nor unto weari-
ness. But in exercise and frication there is the
same reason and caution, that the body may not
perspire, or exhale too much. Therefore exercise
is better in the open air than in the house, and
better in winter than in summer. And, again,
exercise is not only to be concluded with unction,
as frication is, but in vehement exercises unction
is to be used both in the beginning and in the end,
as it was anciently to champions.
6. That exercise may resolve either the spirits
or the juices as little as may be, it is necessary
that it be used when the stomach is not altogether
empty ; and, therefore, that it may not be used
upon a full stomach, (which doth much concern
health,) nor yet upon an empty stomach, (which
doth no less concern long life,) it is best to take a
breakiast in the morning, not of any physical
sJrugs, or of any liquors, or of raisins, or of figs,
or the like, but of plain meal and drink ; yet that
very light, and in moderate (juaiitiiy.
7. Exercises used for the irrigation of the
members, ought to be equal lo all the members:
not (as Socrates said) that the legs should move,
and the arms should rest, or on the contrary ; but
that all the parts may participate of the motion.
And it is altogether requisite to long life, that tiie
body should never abide long in one posture, but
that every half hour, at least, it change liie pos-
ture, saving only in sleep.
8. Those things which are used to mortifica-
tion, may be transferred to vivification ; for both
hair-shirts, and scourgings, and all vexations of
the outward parts, do fortify the attractive force
of them.
9. Cardan commends nettling, even to let out
melancholy ; but of this we have no experience.
And, besides, we have no good opinion of it,
lest, through the venomous quality of the nettle,
it may with often use breed itches, and other dis-
eases of the skin. And touching the operation
upon the outward parts for their attraction of
aliment, thus much.
VII. The Operation upon the JHment itself, for
the Insinuation thereof.
The history.
1. The vulgar reproof touching many dishes,
doth rather become a severe reformer, than a phy-
sician ; or, howsoever it may be good for preser-
vation of health, yet it is hurtful to length of life,
by reason that a various mixture of aliments, and
somewhat heterogeneous, finds a passage into the
veins and juices of the body more lively and
cheerfully, than a simple and homogeneous diet
doth; besides, it is more forcible to stir up appe-
tite, which is the spur of digestion. Therefore
we allow both a full table, and a continual chang-
ing of dishes, according to the seasons of the
year, or upon other occasions.
2. Also that opinion of the simplicity of meats
without sauces, is but a simplicity of judgment;
for good and well chosen sauces are the most
wholesome preparation of meats, and conduce
both to health and to long life.
3. It must be ordered, that with meats hard of
digestion be conjoined strong liquors, and sauces
that may penetrate and make way ; but with
meats more easy of digestion, smaller liquors, and
fat sauces.
4. Whereas we advised before, that the first
draught at supper should be taken warm ; now we
add, that for the preparation of the stomach, a
good draught of that liquor (to which every man
is most accustomed) be taken warm half an houi
before meat also, but a little spiced, to please the
taste.
5. The preparation of meats, and bread, and
drinks, that they may be rightly handled, and m
HISTORY OF LIFK AND DEATH.
505
order to this intPntion, is of exceedinor great mo-
ment, howsoever it may seem a meclianical thing,
and savouring of the kitchen and buttery; yet it
is of more consequence than those fables of gold,
and precious stones, and the like.
6. The moistening of the juices of the body by
a moist preparation of the aliment, is a childish
thing, it may be somewhat available against the
fervours of diseases, but it is altogether averse to
roscid alimentation. Therefore, boiling of meats,
as concerning our intention, is far inferior to
roasting, and baking, and flie like.
7. Roasting ought to be with a quick fire, and
soon despatched, not with a dull fire and in long
time.
8. All solid fleshes ought to be served in not
altogether fresh, but somewhat powdered or
corned ; the less salt may be spent at the table
with them, or none at all ; for salt incorporated
with the meat before, is better distributed in the
body than eaten with it at the table.
9. 'I'here would be brought into use several and
good macerations and infusions of meats in con-
venient liquors, before the roasting of them, the
like whereof are sometime in use before they bake
them, and in the pickles of some fishes.
10. But beatings, and as it were scourgings, of
flesh meats before they be boiled, would work no
small matter. We see it is confessed, that par-
tridges and pheasants killed with a hawk, also
bucks and stags killed in hunting, if they stand not
out too long, eat better even to the taste, and some
fishes scourged and beaten become more tender
and wholesome ; also hard and sour pears, and
some other fruits, grow sweet with rolling them.
It were good to practise some such beating and
bruising of the harder kinds of fleshes before they
be brought to the fire, and this would be one of
the best preparations of all.
11. Bread a little leavened and very little salted
is best, and which is baked in an oven thoroughly
heated, and not with a faint heat.
1-2. The preparation of drinks, in order to long
life, shall not exceed one precept ; and as touch-
ing water drinkers, we have nothing to say : such
a diet (as we said before) may prolong life to an
indifferent term, but to no eminent length ; but in
other drinks that are full of spirit, (such as are
wine, ale, mead, and the like,) this one thing is
to be observed and pursued as the sum of all.
That the parts of the liquor may be exceeding
thin and subtile, and the spirit exceeding mild.
This is hard to be done by age alone, for that
makes the parts a little more subtile, but the
spirits much more sharp and eager; therefore, of
the infusions in the vessels of some fat substance,
which may restrain the acrimony of the spirits,
counsel hath been given before. There is also
another way without infusion or mixture ; this is,
that the liquor might be continually agitated,
eitlter by carriage upon the water, or bv carriage
Vol. hi.— 61
by land, or by hanging the vessels upon lines,
and daily stirring them, or some such other way ;
for it is certain, that this local motion doth both
subtilize the parts, and doth so incorporate and
compact the spirits with the parts, tiiat they have
no leisure to turn to sourness, which is a kind of
putrefaction.
But in extreme old age such a preparation of
meats is to be made, as may be almost in the
middle way to chylous. And touching the dis-
tillations of meats, they are mere toys, for the
nutritive part, at least the best of it, doth not
ascend in vapours.
14. The incorporating of meat and drink before
they meet in the stomach, is a degree to chylous;
therefore let chickens, or partridges, or pheasants,
or the like, be taken and boiled in water, with a
little salt, then let them be cleansed and dried,
afterward let them be infused in must or ale be-
fore it hath d6ne working, with a little sugar.
Also grazies of meat, and the minciiigs of them
small, well seasoned, are good for old persons;
and the rather, for that they are destituted of the
office of their teeth in chewing, which is a prin-
cipal kind of preparation.
IG. And as for the helps of that defect, (namely,
of the strength of teeth to grind the meat,) there
are three things which may conduce thereunto.
First, that new teeth may put forth; that which
seems altogether difficult, and cannot be accom-
plished without an inward and pow^erful restaura-
tion of the body. Secondly, that the jaws l)e so
confirmed by due astringents, that they may in
some sort supply the office of the teeth ; which
may possibly be effected. Thirdly, that the meat
be so prepared, that there shall be no need of
chewing, which remedy is at hand.
17. We have some thought also touching the
quantity of the meat and drink, that the same
taken in a larger quantity at some times, is good
for the irrigation of the body ; therefore both
great feastings, and free drinkings, are not alto-
gether to be inhibited. And touching the opera-
tion upon the aliments, and the preparation of
them, thus much.
Vni. The Operation upon the last Act of Assimi-
lation.
Touching the last act of assimilation, (unto
which the three operations immediatelj' preceding
chiefly tend,) our advice shall be brief and single,
and the thing itself rather needs explication than
any various rules.
1. It is certain, that all bodies are endued with
some desire of assimilating those things which
are next them. This the rare and pneumatical
bodies, as flame, spirit, air, perform generously
and with alacrity ; on the contrary, those that
carry a gross and tangible bulk about them do but
weakly, in regard that the desire of assimilating
2U
506
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
olhor things is bound in by a stronger desire of
rest, and containing themselves from motion.
2. xVgain, it is certain that the desire of as-
similating being bound, as we said, in a gross
body, and made ineffectual, is somewhat freed and
stirred up by the heat and neighbouring spirit, so
tluit it is then actuated ; which is the only cause
why inanimates assimilate not, and animates as-
similate.
3. This also is certain, that the harder the con-
sistence of the body is, the more doth that body
stand in need of a greater heat to prick forward
the assimilation; which falls out ill for old men,
because in them the parts are more obstinate, and
the heat weaker, and therefore either the obstinacy
of their parts is to be softened or their heat in-
creased. And, as touching the malacissation or
mollifying of the members, we shall speak after-
ward, having also formerly propounded many
things which pertain to the prohibiting and pre-
venting of this kind of hardness. For the other,
touching the increasing of the heat, we will now
deliver a single precept, after we have first as-
sumed this axiom.
4. The act of assimilation (which, as we said,
IS excited by the heat circumfused) is a motion
exceeding accurate, subtile, and in little; now,
ill such motions do then come to their vigour,
when the local motion wholly ceaseth which dis-
turbeth it. For the motion of separation into
homogeneal parts, which is in milk, that the
cream should swim above, and the whey sink to
the bottom, will never work, if the milk be never
so little agitated; neither will any putrefaction
proceed in water or mixed bodies, if the same be
in continual local motion. So, then, from this
assumption we will conclude this for the present
inquisition.
5. The act itself of assimilation, is chiefly
accomplished in sleep and rest, especially to-
wards the morning, the distribution being finished.
Therefore, we have nothing else to advise but
that men keep themselves hot in their sleep ; and
further, that towards the morning there be used
some anointing, or shirt tincted with oil, such as
may gently stir up heat, and after that to fall
asleep again. And, touching the last act of assi-
milation, thus much.
IX. The Opi-rntion upon the Inteneration of that
which begins to be arejied, or the Malacissation
of the Body.
We have inquired formerly touching the intene-
ration from within, which is done by many
windings and circuits, as well of alimentation as
of detaining the spirit from issuing forth, and,
therefore, is accomplished slow^ly. Now, we are
to inquire touching that inteneration which is from
without, and is affected, as it were, suddenly ; or
touching the malacissation and supplying of the
body
The history.
1. In the fable of restoring Pelias to youth
again, Medea, when she feigned to do it, pro-
pounded this way of accomplishing the same ;
that the old man's body should be cut into several
pieces, and then boiled in a caldron with certain
medicaments. There may, perhaps, some boiling
be required to this matter, but the cutting into
pieces is not needful.
2. Notwithstanding, this cutting into pieces
seems in some sort to be used, not with a knife,
but with judgment. For, whereas the consistence
of the bowels and parts is very diverse, it is
needful that the inteneration of them both be not
effected the same way, but that there be a cure
designed of each in particular, besides those
things which pertain to the inteneration of the
whole mass of the body ; of which, notwith-
standing, in the first place.
3. This operation (if, perhaps, it be within our
power) is most likely to be done by baths, unc-
tions, and the like, concerning which, these
things that follow are to be observed.
4. We must not be too forward in hoping to
accomplish this matter, from the examples of
those things which we see done in the imbibi-
tions and macerations of inanimates, by which
they are intenerated, whereof we introduced some
instances before : for this kind of operation is
more easy upon inanimates, because th^y attract
and suck in the liquor; but upon the bodies of
living creatures it is harder, because in them the
motion rather tendeth outward, and to the circum-
ference.
5. Therefore, the emollient baths which are in
use do little good, but on the contrary hurt,
because they rather draw forth than make en-
trance, and resolve the structure of the body,
rather than consolidate it.
6. The baths and unctions which may serve to
the present operation, (namely, of intenerating
the body truly and really,) ought to have three
properties.
7. The first and principal is, that they consist
of those things which, in their whole substance,
are like unto the body and flesh of man, and which
have a feeding and nursing virtue from without.
8. The second is, that they be mixed with such
things as, through the subtilty of their parts, may
make entrance, and so insinuate and c( nvey their
nourishing virtue into the body.
9. The third is, that they receive some mixture
(though much inferior to the rest) of such things
as are astringent ; I mean not sour or tart things,
but unctuous and comforting, that while the other
two do operate, the exhaling out of the body,
which dcstroyeih the virtue of the things intene-
rating, may, as much as possible, be prohibited ;
and the motion to the inward parts, by the astric-
tion of the skin, and closing of the passages,
may be promoted and furthered.
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
507
10. That which is most consiibstantiHl to the
b( dy of mail is warm blood, either of man, or
of some other liviiijf creature. But the device
of Ficiiius, touchiiiir the sucking of blood out of
the arm of a wholesome young man, for the re-
storation of strength, in old men, is very frivo-
lous; for that which nourisheth from within,
ought no way to be equal or homogeneal to the
body nourished, but in some sort inferior and sub-
ordinate, that it may be converted. But in things
ap|)lied outwardly, by how much the substance
is liker, by so much the consent is better.
11. It hath been anciently received, that a bath
made of the blood of infants will cure the leprosy,
and heal the flesh already putrefied; insomuch
that this thing hath begot envy towards some
kings from the common peojile.
12. It is reported that Heraclitus, for cure of
the dropsy, was put into the warm belly of an ox
newly srlain.
13. They use the blood of kitlings warm to
sure the disease called St. Anthony's Fire, and to
restore the flesh and skin.
14. An arm, or other member newly cut off, or
that, upon some other occasion, will not leave
bleeding, is with good success put into the belly
of some creatures newly ripped up, for it worketh
potently to stanch the blood; the blood of the
member cut of!", by consent sucking in, and vehe-
mently drawing to itself the warm blood of the
creature slain, whereby itself is stopped, and
retirelh.
15. It is much used in extreme and desperate
diseases to cut in two young pigeons yet living,
and applj' them to the soles of the feet, and to
shift tiiem one after another, whereby sometimes
there followeth a wonderful ease. This is im-
puted vulgarly, as if they should draw down the
malignity of the disease: but, howsoever, this
application goeth to the head, and comforteth the
animal spirit.
16. But these bloody baths and unctions seem
to us sluttish and odious: let us search out some
others, which perhaps have less loathsomeness in
them, and yet no less benefit.
17. Next unto warm blood, things alike in
substance to the body of a man are nutritives;
fat fleshes of oxen, swine, deer, oysters amongst
fishes, milk, butter, yolks of eggs, flower of
■wheat, sweet wine, either sugared, or before it be
fined.
18. Such things as we would have mixed to
make impression, are instead of all salts, espe-
cially bay-salt : also wine (when it is full of spirit)
makelh entrance, and is an excellent convoy.
19. Astringents of that kind which we de-
scribed, namely, unctuous and comfortable
things, a • saffron, mastic, myrrh, and myrtle-
berries.
20. Of these parts, in our judgment, may very
well be maj'e such a bath as we design: phy-
sicians and posterity will find out better things
hereafter.
21. But the operation will be much better, and
more powerful, if such a bath as we have pro-
pounded (which we hold to be the principal
matter) be attended with a fourfold course and
order.
22. First, that there go before the bath a frica-
tion of the body, and an anointing with oil, with
some thickening substance, that the virtue and
moistening heat of the bath may pierce the body,
and not the watery part of the liquor; then let the
bath follow, for the space of some two hours.
After the bath, let the body be emplastered with
mastick, myrrhe, tragacanth, diapalma, a"d
saffron, that the perspiration of the body may (as
much as possible) be inhibited, till the supple
matter be by degrees turned into solid. This to
be continued for the space of twenty-four hours,
or more. Lastly, the emplastering being removed,
let there be an anointing with oil mixed with salt
and saffron, and let this bath, together with the
emplastering and unction (as before) be renew-
ed every fifth day. This malacissation, or sup-
plying of the body, be continued for one whole
month.
23. Also during the time of this malacissation,
we hold it useful and proper, and according to
our intention, that men nourish their bodies well,
and keep out of the cold air, and drink nothing
but warm drink.
24. Now, this is one of those things (as we
warned in general in the beginning) whereof we
have made no trial by experiment, but only set it
down out of our aiming and leveling at the end.
For having set up the mark, we deliver the light
to others.
25. Neither ought the warmths and cherishing
of living bodies to be nglected. Ficinus saith,
and that seriously enough. That the laying of the
young maid in David's bosom was wholesome
for him, but it came too late. He should also
have added, that the young maid, after the man-
ner of the Persian virgins, ought to have been
anointed with myrrh, and such like, not for deli-
ciousness, but to increase the virtue of this che-
rishing by a living body.
26. Barbarossa, in his extreme old age, by the
advice of a physician, a Jew, did continually
apply young boys to his stomach and belly, for
warmth and cherishing. Also some old men lay
whelps (creatures of the hottest kind) close to
their stomachs every night.
27. There hath gone a report, almost vin-
doul)ted, and that under several names, of certain
men that had great noses, who, being weary of
the derision of people, have cut off the bunches or
gillocks of their noses, and then making a wide
gash in their arms, have heJd their noses in the
place for a certain time, and so bronffht forth fair
and comely noses; which, if it be true, it sho
508
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
plainly the consent of flesh and flesh, especially
in live fleshes.
28. Touching the particular inteneration of the
principal bowels, the stomach, lungs, liver, heart,
brain, marrow of the backbone, guts, reins, gall,
veins, arteries, nerves, cartilages, bones, the in-
quisition and direction would be too long, seeing
we now set not forth a practice, but certain indi-
cations to the practice.
X. The Operation upon the purging away of old
Juice, and supplying of new Juice ; or of Reno-
vation by Turns.
The history.
Although those things which we shall here set
down have been, for the most part, spoken of
before ; yet because this operation is one of the
principal, we will handle them over again more
at large.
1. It is certain, that draught oxen, which have
been worn out with working, being put into fresh
and rich pastures, will gather tender and young
flesh again; and this will appear even to the
taste and palate; so that the inteneration of flesh
is no hard matter. Now, it is likely that this
inteneration of the flesh being often repeated,
will in time reach to the inteneration of the bones
and membranes, and like parts of the body.
2. It is certain, that diets which are now much
in use, principally of guaiacum, and of sarsapa-
rilla, china, and sassafras, if they be continued for
any time, and according to strict rules, do first
attenuate the whole juice of the body, and after
consume it, and drink it up. Which is most
manifest, because that by these diets the French
pox, when it is grown even to a hardness, and
hath eaten up and corrupted the very marrow of
the body, may be effectually cured. And, further,
because it is manifest, that men who, by these
diets, are brought to be extreme lean, pale, and,
as it were, ghosts, will soon after become fat, well
coloured, and apparently young again. "Where-
fore we are absolutely of opinion, that such kind
of diets in the decline of age, being used every
year, would be very useful to our intention ; like
the old skin or spoil of serpents.
3. We do confidently affirm (neither let any
man reckon us among those heretics which were
called Cathari) that often purges, and made even
familiar to the body, are more available to long
life than exercises and sweats. And this must
needs be so, if that be held which is already laid
for a ground, that unctions of the body, and opple-
tion of the passages from without, and exclusion
of air, and detaining of the spirit within the mass
of the body, do much conduce to long life. For
it is most certain, that by sweats and outward
perspirations, not only the humours and excre-
mentitious vapours are exhaled and consumed,
but together with them the juices also, and good
spirits, which are not so easily repaired; but in
purges (unless thty be very immoderate) it is not
so, seeing they work principally upon the hu-
mours. But, the best purges for this intention
are those which are taken immediately before
meat, because they dry the body less; and, theie-
fore, they must be of those purges which do
least trouble the belly.
These intentions of the operations which we
have propounded (as we conceive) are most true,
the remedies faithful to the intentions. Neither
is it credible to be told (although not a few of
these remedies may seem but vulgar) with what
care and choice they have been examined by us,
that they might be (the intention not at all im-
peached) both safe and effectual. Experience, no
doubt, will both verify and promote these matters.
And such, in all things, are the works of every
prudent counsel, that they are admirable in their
eifects, excellent also in their order, but seeming
vulgar in the way and means.
The Porches of Death.
We are now to inquire touching the porches of
death, that is, touching those things which hap-
pen unto men at the point of death, both a little
before and after; that seeing there are many paths
which lead to death, it may be understood in what
common way they all end, especially in those
deaths which are caused by indigence of^nature,
rather than by violence; although something of
this latter also must be inserted, because of the
connexion of things.
The history.
1. The living spirit stands in need of three
things that it may subsist; convenient motion,
temperate refrigeration, and fit aliment. Flame
seems to stand in need but of two of these, namely,
motion and aliment, because flame is a simple
substance, the spirit a compounded, insomuch
that if it approach somewhat too near to a flamy
nature, it overthroweth itself.
2. Also flame by a greater and stronger flame
is extinguished and slain, as Aristotle well noted,
much more the spirit.
3. Flame, if it be much compressed and strait-
ened, is extinguished ; as we may see in a candle
having a glass cast over it, for the air being di-
lated by the heat doth contrude and thrust together
the flame, and so lesseneth it, and in the end ex-
tinguisheth it; and fires on hearths will not flame,
if the fuel be thrust close together, without any
space for the flame to break forth.
4. Also things fired are extinguished with com-
pression; as if you press a burning coal hard
with the tongs, or the foot, it is straight extin-
guished.
.5. But to come to the spirit ; if blood or phlegm
get into the ventricles of the brain, it causeth sud-
den death, because the spirit hath no room to
move itself.
6. Also a great blow on the head indnceth sud*
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
509
den death, the spirits being straitened within the
ventricles of the brain.
7. Opium, and other strontj stupefactives, do
coagulate the spirit, and deprive it of the motion.
8. A venomous vapour, totally abhorred by the
spirit, causeth sudden death ; as in deadly poisons,
which work (as they call it) by a special malig-
17. Notwithstanding, use and custom prevail
much in this natural action of breathing; as it ia
in the Delian divers and fishers for pearl, who by
long use can hold their breaths at least ten times
longer than other men can do.
18. Amongst living creatures, even of those
that have lungs, there are some that are able to
nity; for they strike a loathing into tlie spirit, that i hold their breaths a long time, and others that
cannot hold them so long, according as they need
more or less refrigeratifm.
19. Fishes need less refrigeration than terrestrial
creatures, yet some they need, and take it by their
spirit is not only oppressed with over-much con- gills. And as terrestrial creatures cannot bear
the spirit will no more move itself, nor rise against
a thing so much detested.
9. Also extreme drunkenness, or extreme feed-
ing, sometimes cause sudden death, seeing the
densing, or the malignity of the vapour, (as in
opium and malignant poisons,) but also with the
abundance of the vapours.
10. Extreme grief or fear, especially if they be
sudden, (as it is in a sad and unexpected mes-
sage,) cause sudden death.
11. Not only over-much compression, but also
over-much dilatation of the spirit, is deadly.
12. Joys excessive and sudden have bereft many
of their lives.
13. In greater evacuations, as when they cut
men for the dropsy, the waters flow forth abun-
dantly, much more in great and sudden fluxes of
blood, oftentimes present death followeth ; and
this happens by the mere flight of vacuum within
the body, all the parts moving to fill the empty
places; and, amongst the rest, the spirits them-
selves. For, as for slow fluxes of blood, this matter
pertains to the indigence of nourishment, not to
the difiusion of the spirits. And touching the
motion of the spirit so far, either compressed or
diffused, that it bringeth death, thus much.
14. We must come next to the want of refri-
geration. Stopping of the breath causeth sudden
death ; as in all suffocation or strangling. Now,
it seems this matter is not so much to be referred
to the impediment of motion as to the impediment
of refrigeration ; for air over-hot, though attracted
freely, doth no less suffocate than if breathing
were hindered : as it is in them who have been
sometimes suffocated with burning coals, or with
charcoal, or with walls new plastered in close
the air that is too hot, or too close, so fishes are
suffocated in waters if they be totally and long
frozen.
20. If the spirit be assaulted by another heat
greater than itself, it is dissipated and destroyed ;
for it cannot bear the proper heat without refrigera-
tion, much less can it bear another heat which is
far stronger. This is to be seen in burning fevers,
where the heat of the putrefied humours doth
exceed the native heat, even to extinction or dis-
sipation.
21. The want also and use of sleep is referred
to refrigeration; for motion doth attenuate and
rarefy the spirit, and doth sharpen and increase
the heat thereof: contrarily, sleep settleth and
restraineth the motion and gadding of the same;
for though sleep doth strengthen and advance the
actions of the parts and of the lifeless spirits, and
all that motion which is to the circumference of
the body, yet it doth in great part quiet and still
the proper motion of the living spirit. Now,
sleep is regularly due unto human nature once
within four-and-twenty hours, and that for six, or
five hours at the least; though there are, even in
this kind, sometimes miracles of nature ; as it is
recorded of Maecenas, that he slept not for a long
time before his death. And as touching the
want of refrigeration for conserving of the spirit,
thus much.
22. As concerning the third indigence, namely,
of aliment, it seems to pertain rather to the parts,
than to the living spirit ; for a man may easily
chambers where a fire is made; which kind of believe that the living spirit subsisteth in identity,
death is reported to have been the end of the Em-
peror Jovinian. The like happeneth from dry
baths over-heated, which was practised in the
killing of Fausta, wife to Constantine the Great.
15 It is a very small time which nature taketh
to repeat the breathing, and in which she desireth
to exp^l the foggy air drawn into the lungs, and
to take in new, scarce the third part of a minute.
16. A^jain, the beating of the pulse, and the
motion of the systole and diastole of the heart, are
three times quicker than that of breathing; inso-
much that if it were possible thai that motion of
the heart could be stopped without stopping the
brer.,';h, death would follow more speedily there-
upon than by strangling.
not by succession or renovation. And as for the
reasonable soul in men, it is above all question,
that it is not engendered of the soul of the parents,
nor is repaired, nor can die. They speak of the
natural spirit of living creatures, and also of
vegetables, which differs from that other soul
essentially and formally ; for out of the confusion
o. these, that same transmigration of souls, and
innumeral)le other devices of heathens and here-
tics have proceeded.
23. The body of man doth regularly require
renovation by aliment every day, and a body in
health can scarce endure fasting three days tofres
ther; notwithstanding, use and custom will dc
much, even in this case; but in sickness fastinp
2 u2
510
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
is less grievous to the body. Also, sleep doth
supply somewhat to nourishment; and on the
other side, exercise doth require it more abun-
dantly. Likewise there have some been found
who sustained themselves (almost to a miracle
in nature) a very long time without meat or
drink.
24. Dead bodies, if they be not intercepted by
putrefaction, will subsist a long time without any
notable absumption; but living bodies, not above
three days, (as we said,) unless they be repaired
by nourishment; which showeth that quick ab-
sumption to be the work of the living spirit, which
either repairs itself, or puts the parts into a neces-
sity of being repaired, or both. This is testified
by that also which was noted a little before,
namely, that living creatures may subsist some-
what the longer without aliment, if they sleep :
now, sleep is nothing else but a reception and
retirement of the living spirit into itself.
25. An abundant and continual effluxion of
blood, which sometimes happeneth in the haemorr-
hoids, sometimes in vomiting of blood, the in-
ward veins being unlocked or broken, sometimes
by wounds, causeth sudden death, in -regard that
the blood of the veins ministereth to the arteries,
and the blood of the arteries to the spirit.
2G. The quantity of meat and drink which a
man, eating two meals a day, receiveth into his
body, is not small ; much more than he voideth
again either by stool, or by urine, or by sweating.
You will say, no marvel, seeing the remainder
goeth into the juices and substance of the body.
It is true; but consider, then, that this addition
is made twice a day, and yet the body aboundeth
not much. In like manner, though the spirit
be repaired, yet it grows not excessively in the
quantity.
27. It doth no good to have the aliment ready,
in a degree removed, but to have it of that kind,
and so prepared and supplied, that the spirit may
work upon it; for the staff of a torch alone will
not maintain the flame, unless it be fed with wax,
neither can men live upon herbs alone. And
from thence comes the inconcoction of old age,
that tnough there be flesh and blood, yet the
spiiit is become so penurious and thin, and the
juices and blood so heartless and obstinate, that
they hold no proportion to alimentation.
28. Let us now cast up the accounts of the
needs and indigences according to the ordinary
and usual course of nature. The spirit hath need
of opening and moving itself in the ventricles of
the brain and nerves even continually, of the mo-
tion of the heart every third part of a moment,
of breathing every moment, of sleep and nourish-
ment once within three days, of the power of
nourishment commonly till eighty years be past;
and if any of these indigences be neglected, death
ciisoeth. So there are plainly three porches of
I death ; destitution of the spirit in the motion, in
the refrigeration, in the aliment.
I It is an error to think that the living spirit is
perpetually generated and extinguished as flame
is, and abideth not any notable time ; for even
j flame itself is not thus out of its own proper na-
j ture, but because it liveth amongst enemies ; for
flame within flame endureth. Now, the living
spirit liveth amongst friends, and all due obsequi-
; ousness. So then, as, flame is a momentary sub-
; stance, air is a fixed substance, the living spirit is
betwixt both.
Touching the extinguishing of the spirit by the
destruction of the organs (which is caused by
diseases and violence) we inquire not now, as
we foretold in the beginning, although that also
endeth in the same three porches. And touching
the form of death itself, thus much.
29. There are two great forerunners of death,
the one sent from the head, the other from the
heart; convulsion, and the extreme labour of the
pulse : for as for the deadly hiccough, it is a kind
of convulsion. But the deadly labour of the
pulse hath that unusual swiftness, because the
heart at the point of death doth so tremble, that
the systole and diastole thereof are almost con-
founded. There is also conjoined in the pulse a
weakness and lowness, and oftentimes a great in-
termission, because the motion of the heart faileth,
and is not able to rise against the assault stoutly
or constantly.
30. The immediate preceding signs of death
are, great unquietness and tossing in the bed,
fumbling with the hands, catching and grasping
hard, gnashing with the teeth, speaking iiollow.
trembling of the nether lip, paleness of tiie face
the memory confused, speechless, cold sweats, the
body shooting in length, lifting up the white of
the eye, changing of the whole visage, (as th<»
nose sharp, eyes hollow, cheeks fallen,) contrac-
tion and doubling of the coldness in the extrem»»
parts of the body, in some, shedding of blood,
or sperm, shrieking, breathing thick and short,
falling of the nether chap, and such like.
31. There follow death a privation of all sense
and motion, as well of the heart and arteries, as
of the nerves and joints, an inability of the body
to support itself upright, stiffness of the nerves
and parts, extreme coldness of the whole body,
after a little while putrefaction and stinking.
Eels, serpents, and the insecta, will move a
long time in every part after they are cut asunder,
insomuch that country people think that the parts
strive to join together again. Also birds wiil
flutter a great while after their heads are pulled
off; and the hearts of living creatures will pant a
long time after they are plucked out. I remember
I have seen the heart of one that was bowelled,
as suffering for high treason, that being cast into
the fire, leaped at the first at least a foot and half
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
511
which fall into swoonings. I have heard also o(
a physician, yet living, who recovered a man to
lite which liad hanged himself, and had hanged
half an hour, by frications and hot haths ; and tiio
same physician did profess, that he made no doubt
to recover any man that had hanged so long, so
his neck were not broken with the first swing.
The Ihjtrevce of Youth and Old Jlge.
To the sixteenth article.
1. The ladder of man's body is this, to be con-
ceived, to be quickened in the womb, to be born,
to suck, to be weaned, to feed upon pap, to put
forth teeth the first time about the second year
of age, to begin to go, to begin to speak, to put
forth teeth the second time about seven years of
age, to come to puberty about twelve or fourteen
years of age, to be able for generation, and the
flowing of the menstrua, to have hairs about
the legs and arm-holes, to put forth a beard ; and
thus long, and sometimes later, to grow in sta-
ture, or to come to full years of strength and
agility, to grow gray and bald; the menstrua
ceasing, and ability to generation, to grow de-
crepit, and a monster with three legs, to die.
Meanwhile, the mind also hath certain periods,
but they cannot be described by years, as to
decay in the memory, and the like, of which
hereafter.
2. The differences of youth and old age are
these: a young man's skin is smooth and pliin,
an old man's dry and wrinkled, especially about
the forehead and eyes; a young man's flesh is
tender and soft, an old man's hard ; a young man
hath strength and agility, an old man feels decay
in his strength, and is slow of motion; a young
man hath good digestion, an old man bad ; a
young man's bowels are soft and succulent, an
old man's salt and parched ; a young man's body
is erect and straight, an old man's bowing and
crooked ; a young man's limbs are steady, an old
man's weak and trembling; the humours in a
young man are choleric, and his blood inclined
to heat, in an old man phlegmatic and melancho-
lic, and his blood inclined to coldness; a young
inan ready for the act of Venus, an old man
that state: and the like happened in our days in | slow unto it; in a young' man the juices of his
the person of a player, buried at Cambridge. I j body are more roscid, in an old man more crude
remember to have heard of a certain gentleman 'and waterish ; the spirit in a young man plentiful
that would needs make trial, in curiosity, what j and boiling, in an old man scarce and jejune; a
men did feel that were hanged ; so he fastened young man's spirit is dense and vigorous, an old
the cord about his neck, raising himself upon a man's eager and rare ; a young man his senses
stool, and then letting himself fall, thinking it ' quick and entire, an old man dull and decayed ;
should be in his power to recover the stool at his i a young man's teeth are strong and entire, an old
pleasure, which he failed in, but was helped by a : man's weak, worn, and fallen out ; a young man's
friend then present. He was asked afterward \ hair is coloured, an old man's (of what colour
what he felt; he said he felt no pain, but first he 'soever it were) gray; a young man hath hair,
thought he saw before his eyes a great fire, and Ian old man baldness; a young man's pulse is
burning; then he thought he saw all black, and ! stronger and quicker, an old man's more confused
dark ; lastly, it turned to a pale blue, or sea-water and slower; the diseases of young men are more
grt-en ; which colour is also often seen by them acute and curable, of old men longer, and hard
in heigh*, and after, by degrees, lower and lower,
for the space, as I remember, of seven or eight
minutes. There is also an ancient and credible
tradition of an ox lowing after his bowels were
plucked out. But there is a more certain tradition
of a man, who being under the executioner's hand
for high treason, after his heart was plucked out,
and in the executioner's hand, was heard to utter
tliree or four words of prayer; which therefore
we said to be more credible than that of the ox in
sacrifice, because the friends of the party sutfering
do usually give a reward to the executioner to
despatch his office with the more speed, that they
may the sooner be rid of their pain; but in sa-
crifices, we see no cause why the priest should be
so speedy in his oflice.
3;}. For reviving those again which fall into
sudden swoonings and catalepsies of astonish-
ments, (in which fits many, without help, would
utterly expire,) these things are used, putting into
their mouths water distilled of wine, which they
call hot waters, and cordial waters, bending the
body forward, stopping the mouth and nostrils
hard, bending or wringing the fingers, pulling the
hairs of the beard or head, rubbing of the parts,
especially the face and legs, sudden casting of
cold water upon the face, shrieking out aloud and
suddenly, putting rose-water to the nostrils, with
vinegar in faintings ; burning of feathers, or cloth,
in the suffocation of the mother; but especially a
frying-pan heated red-hot, is good in apoplexies;
also a close embracing of the body hath helped
some.
34. There have been many examples of men in
show dead, either laid out ujion the cold floor, or
carried forth to burial ; nay, of some buried in the
earth; which notwithstanding have lived again,
which hath been found in those that were buried
(tiie earth being afterwards opened) by the bruis-
ing and woundingof their head, through the strug-
gling of the body within the coffin ; whereof the
most recent and memorable example was that of
Joannes Scotus, called the subtile, and a school-
man, who being digged up again by his servant,
(unfortunately absent at his burial, and who knew
his master's manner in such fits,) was found in
612
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
to cure; a young man's wounds soon close, an
old man's later; a young man's cheeks are of a
fresh colour, an old man's pale, or with a black
blood ; a young man is less troubled with rheums,
an old man more. Neither do we know in what
things old men do improve, as touching their
body, save only sometimes in fatness; whereof
the reason is soon given, because old men's
bodies do neither perspire well nor assimilate
well. Now, fatness is nothing else but exube-
rance of nourishment above that which is voided
by excrement, or which is perfectly assimilated.
Also, souie old men improve in the appetite of
feeding, by reason of the acid humours, though
old men digest worst. And all these things
which we have said, physicians negligently
enough will refer to the diminution of the natural
heat and radical moisture, which are things of no
worth for use. This is certain, dryness in the
coming on of years doth forego coldness; and
bodies, when they come to the top and strength
of heat, do decline in dryness, and after that fol-
lows coldness.
3. Now we are to consider the affections of
the mind. I remember when I was a young man.
at Poictiers in France, I conversed familiarly
with a certain Frenchman, a witty young man,
but something talkative, who afterwards grew to
be a very eminent man; he was wont to inveigh
ag-iinst the manners of old men, and would say,
that if their minds could be seen as their bodies
are, they would appear no less deformed. Be-
sides, being in love with his own wit, he would
maintain, that the vices of old men's minds have
some correspondence, and were parallel to the pu-
trefactions of their bodies : for the dryness of
their skin, he would bring in impudence ; for the
hardness of their bowels, unmercifulness ; for the
lippitude of their eyes, an evil eye, and envy; for
the casting down of their eyes, and bowing their
body towards the earth, atheism ; (for, saith he,
they look no more up to heaven as they are wont ;)
for the trembling of their members, irresolutions
of their decrees and light inconstancy ; for the
bending of their fingers, as it were to catch, rapa-
city and covetousness ; for the buckling of their
knees, fearfulness; fot their wrinkles, craftiness
and obliquity ; and other things which I have for-
gotten. But, to be serious, a young man is mo-
dest and shamefaced, an old man's forehead is
hardened ; a young man is full of bounty and
mercy, an old man's heart is brawny; a young
man is affected with a laudable emulation, an old
man with a malignant envy ; a young man is in-
clined to religion and devotion, by reason of his
fervency and inexperience of evil, an old man
cooleth in piety through the coldness of his cha-
rily, and long conversation in evil, and likewise
through the difficulty of his belief; a young
man's desires are vehement, an old man's mode-
r.>te; a young man is light and movable, an old
man more grave and constant ; a young man I'a
given to liberality, and beneficence, and liumanity,
an old man to covetousness, wisdom for his owi.
self, and seeking his own ends; a young man i&
confident and full of hope, an old man diffident,
and given to suspect most things; a young man
is gentle and obsequious, an old man froward
and disdainful ; a young man is sincere and open-
hearted, an old man cautelous and close; a young
man is given to desire great things, an old man
to regard things necessary ; a young man thinks
well of the present times, an old man preferreth
times past before tliem ; a young man reverenceth
his superiors, an old man is more forward to tax
them; and many other things, which pertain
rather to manners than the present inquisition.
Notwithstanding, old men, as in some things
they improve in their bodies, so also in their
minds, unless they be altogether out of date;
namely, that as they are less apt for invention,
so they excel in judgment, and prefer safe things,
and sound things, before specious. Also, they
improve in garrulity and ostentation, for they seek
the fruit of speech while they are less able for ac-
tion. So as it was not absurd that the poets feigned
old Tython to be turned into a grasshopper.
MOVABLE CANONS OF THE DURATION
OF LIFE AND FORM OF DEATH.
Consumption is not caused, unless thai which is
departed with by one body passeth into another.
THE EXPLICATION.
There is in nature no annihilating, or reducing
to nothing. Therefore, that which is consumed
is either resolved into air, or turned into some
body adjacent. So we see a spider, or fly, or ant
in amber, entombed in a more stately monument
than kings are; to be laid up for eternity,
although they be but tender things, and soon dis-
sipated. But the matter is this, that there is no
air by, into which they should be resolved, and
the substance of the amber is so heterogeneous,
that it receives nothing of them. The like we
conceive would be if a stick, or root, or some
such thing were buried in quicksilver; also wax,
and honey, and gums, have the same operation,
but in part only.
There is in every tangible body a spirit, covered
and encompassed with the grosser parts if thi: body,
and from it all consumption and dissolution hatk
the beginning.
THE EXPLICATION.
No body known unto us here in the upper part
of the earth is without a spirit, either by.attenua-
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
513
lion and concoction from the heat of the heaven-
ly bodies, or by sotne other way ; for the concavi-
ties of tangibie things receive not vacuum, but
either air, or the proper spirit of the thing. And
this spirit whereof we speak, is not from virtue, or
energy, or act, or a trifle, but phunly a body, rare
and invisible ; notwithstanding, circumscribed
by place, quantitative, real. Neither, again,
is that spirit air, (no more than wine is water,)
but a body rarefied, of kin to air, though much
different from it. Now, the grosser parts of
bodies (being dull things, and not apt for motion)
would last a long time; but the spirit is that
which troubloth, and plucketh, and undermineth
them, and converteth the moisture of the body,
and whatsoever it is able to digest, into new spi-
rit; and then as well the pre-existing spirit of the
body, as that newly made, fly away together by
detrrees. This is best seen by the diminution of
the weight in bodies dried through perspiration;
for neither all that which is issued forth was
spirit when the body was ponderous, neither
was it not spirit when it issued forth.
The spirit issuing forth drieih ; detained and
working within either melteih, or putrejieth, or
vivijieth.
THE EXPLICATION.
There are four processes of the spirit ; to are-
faction, to colloquation, putrefaction, to genera-
tion of bodies. Arefaction is not the proper
work of the spirit, but of the grosser parts after
the spirit issued forth ; for then they contract
themselves partly by their flight of vacuum, part-
ly by the union of the homogeneals; as appears
in all things which are arefied by age, and in the
drier sort of bodies which have passed the fire;
as bricks, charcoal, bread. Colloquation is the
mere work of the spirit; neither is it done, but
when they are excited by heat; for when the
spirits, dilating themselves, yet not getting forth,
do insinuate and disperse themselves among the
grosser parts, and so make them soft and apt to
run, as it is in the metals and wax ; for metals,
and all tenacious things, are apt to inhibit the
spirit; that being excited, it issueth not forth.
Putrefaction is a mixed work of the spirits, and
of the grosser parts; for the spirit (which before
restrained and bridled the parts of the thing)
being partly issued forth, and partly enfeebled,
all things in the body do dissolve and return to
their homogeneities, or (if you will) to their ele-
ments ; that which was spirit in it is congregated
to itself, whereby things putrefied begin to have
an ill savour; the oily parts to themselves,
whereby things putrefied have that slipperiness
and unctuosity; the watery parts also to them-
eelves, the dregs to themselves ; whence foUow-
VoL. TIL— G5
eth that confusion in bodies putrefied. But
generation or vivification is a work also mixed of
the s\nnt and grosser parts, but in a far different
manner; for the spirit is totally detained, but it
swelleth and moveth locally; and the grosser
parts are not dissolved, but follow the motion of
the spirit; and are, as it were, blown out by it,
and extruded into divers figures, from whence
Cometh that generation and organization; and,
therefore, vivification is always done in a matter
tenacious and clammy, and again yielding and
soft, that there may be both a detention of the
spirit, and also a gentle cession of the parts,
according as the spirit forms them. And this is
seen in the matter, as well of all vegetables, as
of living creatures, whether they be engendered
of putrefaction, or of sperm, for in all these
things there is manifestly seen a matter hard to
break through, easy to yield.
In all living creatures there are two kinds of
spirits : liveless spirits, such as are in bodies inani'
mate ; and a vital spirit superadded.
THE EXPLICATION.
It was said before, that to procure long life,
the body of man must be considered ; first, as
inanimate, and not repaired by nourishment;
secondly, as animate, and repaired by nourish-
ment. For the former, consideration gives laws
touching consumption, the latter touching repara-
tion. Therefore we must know, that there are in
human flesh bones, membranes, organs; finally,
in all the parts such spirits diffused in the sub-
stance of them while they are alive, as there are
in the same things (flesh, bones, membranes, and
the rest) separated and dead, such as also remain
in a carcass; but the vital spirit, although it
ruleth them, and hath some consent with them,
yet it is far differing from them, being integral,
and subsisting by itself. Now, there are two
special differences betwixt the liveless spirits and
the vital spirits/ The one, that the liveless spirits
are not continued to themselves, but are, as it
were, cut off and encompassed with a gross body,
which intercepts them, as air is mixed with snow
or froth ; but the vital spirit is all continued to itself
by certain conduit pipes through which it passeth,
and is not totally intercepted. And this spirit is
twofold also; the one branched, only passing
through small pipes, and, as it were, strings, tho
other hath a cellar also, so as it is not only con
tinued to itself, but also congregated in a hollow
space in reasonable good quantity, according to
the analogy of the body ; and in that cell is the
fountain of the rivulets which branch from thence.
The cell is chiefly in the ventricles of the brain,
which in the ignobler sort of creatures are but
narrow, insomuch that the spirits in them ^eem
scattered over their whole body, rather than celled ;
514
HISTORV OF LIFE AND DEATH.
as may be seen in serpents, eels, and flies, whereof
every of their parts move along after they are cut
asunder. Birds also leap a good while after their
heads are pulled off, because they have little heads
and little cells. But the nobler sort of creatures
have those ventricles larger, and man the largest
of all. The other difference betwixt the spirits
is, that the vital spirit hath a kind of enkindling,
and is like a wind or breath compounded of flame
and air, as the juices of living creatures have both
oil and water. And this enkindling ministereth
peculiar motions and faculties; for the smoke
which is inflammable, even before the flame con-
ceived, is hot, thin, and movable, and yet it is
quite another thing after it is become flame; but
the enkindling of the vital spirits is by many de-
grees gentler than the softest flame, as of spirit
of wine, or otherwise; and, besides, it is in great
part mixed with an aerial substance, that it should
be a mystery or miracle, both of a flammeous and
aereous nature.
The natural actions are proper to the several
parts, but it is the vital spirit that excites and
sharpens them.
THE EXPLICATION.
The actions or functions which are in the seve-
ral members, follow the nature of the members
themselves, (attraction, retention, digestion, assi-
milation, separation, excretion, perspiration, even
sense itself,) according to the propriety of the
several organs, (the stomach, liver, heart, spleen,
gall, brain, eye, ear, and the rest,) yet none of
these actions would ever have been actuated but
by the vigour and presence of the vital spirit, and
heat thereof; as one iron would not have drawn
another iron, unless it had been excited by the
loadstone; nor an egg would ever have brought
forth a bird, unless the substance of the hen had
been actuated by the treading of the cock.
CANON VI.
The liveless spirits are next consuhstantial to air ;
the vital spirits approach more to the substance of
Jiame.
THE EXPLICATION.
The explication of the precedent fourth canon
is also a declaration of this present canon. But
yet further, from hence it is, that all fat and oily
things continue long in their being. For neither
doth the air much pluck them, neither do they
much desire to join themselves with air. As for
that conceit, it is altogether vain, that flame
should be air set on fire, seeing flame and air are
nn less heterogeneal, than oil and water. But
whereas it is said in the canon, that the vital
spirits approach more to the substance of flame;
it must be understood, that they do this more than
the liveless spirits, not that they are more flamy
than air.
CANON VII.
The spirit hath two desires, one of multiplying
itself, the other of flying forth, and congregating
itself with the connaturals.
THE EXPLICATION.
The canon is understood of the liveless spirits ;
for as for the second desire, the vital spirit doth
most of all abhor flying forth of the body, for it
finds no connatural here below to join withal.
Perhaps it may sometimes fly to the outward
parts of the body, to meet that which it loveth ;
but the flying forth, as I said, it abhorreth. But
in the liveless spirits each of these two desires
holdeth. For to the former this belongeth, every
spirit seated amongst the grosser parts dwelleth
unhappily; and, therefore, when it finds not a
like unto itself, it doth so much the more labour
to create and make a like, as being in a great
solitude, and endeavour earnestly to multiply
itself, and to prey upon the volatile of the grosser
parts, that it may be increased in quantity. As
for the second desire of flying forth, and betaking
itself to the air, it is certain, that all light things
(which are ever movable) do willingly go unto
their likes near unto them, as a drop of water is
carried to a drop, flame to flame; but nmch more
this is done in the flying forth of spirit into the
air ambient, because it is not carried to a particle
like unto itself, but also as unto the globe of the
connaturals. Meanwhile this is to be noted, that
the going forth, and flight of the spirit into air is
a redoubled action, partly out of the appetite of the
spirit, partly out of the appetite of the air, for the
common air is a needy thing, and receiveth all
things speedily, as spirits, odours, beams, sounds,
and the like.
CANON VIII.
Spirit detained, if it have no possibility of beget-
ting new spirits, intenerateth the grosser parts.
THE EXPLICATION.
Generation of new spirit is not accomplished
but upon those things which are in some degree
near to the spirit, such as are humid bodies. And,
therefore, if the grosser parts (amongst which the
spirit conversech") be in a remote degree, although
the spirit cannot convert them, yet (as much as it
j can) it weakeneth, and softeneth, and subdueth
them, that seeing it cannot increase in quantity,
i yet it will dwell more at large, and live amongst
good neighbours and friends. Now, this aphorism
is most useful to our end, because it tendeth to
the inteneration of the obstinate parts by the deten*
, tion of the spirit.
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
515
The inteneratinn of the harder pnrta coineth to
good effect when the spirit neither Jlieth forth, nor
begettcth new spirit.
THE EXPLICATION.
This canon solveth the knot and difliciilty in
the operation of inteneratin^ by the detention of
the spirit ; for if the spirit not flying forth wasteth
all within, there is nothing gotten to the intenera-
tion of the parts in their 'subsistence, but rather
they are dissolved and corrupted. Therefore, to-
gether with the detention, the spirits ought to be
cooled and restrained, that they may not be too
active.
The heat (f the spirit, to keep the body fresh and
green, ought to be robust, not eager.
THE EXPLICATION.
Also, this canon pertaineth to the solving of
the knot aforesaid, but it is of a much larger ex-
tent, for it settetl) down of what temperament the
heat in the body ought to be for the obtaining of
long life. Now, this is useful, whether the spirits
be detained, or whether they be not. For, how-
soever, the heat of the spirits, must be such, as it
may rather turn itself upon the hard parts, than
waste the soft; for the one desiccateth, the other
intenerateth. Besides, the same thing is available
to the well perfecting of assimilation; for such a
heat doth excellently excite the faculty of assimi-
lation, and withal doth excellently prepare the
matter to be assimilated. Now, the properties of
this kind of heat ought to be these. First, that
it be slow, and heat not suddenly. Secondly,
that it be not very intense, but moderate. Thirdly,
that it be equal, not incomposed; namely, in-
tending and remitting itself. Fourthly, that if
this heat meet any thing to resist it, it be not
easily suffocated or languish. The operation is
exceeding subtile; but seeing it is one of the
most useful, it is not to be deserted. Now, in
those remedies which we propounded to invest
the spirits with a robust heat, or that which we
call operative, not predatory, we have in some
sort satisfied this matter.
T%e condensing nf the spirits in their substance is
available to long life.
THE EXPLICATION.
This canon is subordinate to the next prece-
dent; for the spirit condensed receiveth all those
four properties of heat whereof we speak; but the
ways of condensing them are set down in the
fci^t of the ten operations.
CANON XII.
The spirit in great quantity hasteneth more to
flying forth, and preyeth upon the body more than
in small quantity.
THE EXPLICATION.
This canon is clear of itself, seeing mere quan-
tity doth regularly increase virtue. And it is to
be seen in flames, that the bigger they are the
stronger they break forth, and the more speedily
they consume. And, therefore, over-great plenty,
or exuberance of the spirits, is altogether hurtful
to long life; neither need one wish a greater
store of spirits, than what is sufhcient for the
functions of life, and the office of a good repa-
ration.
CANON XIII.
The spirit equally dispersed, maketh less haste to
fly forth, and preyeth less upon the body, than un-
equally placed.
THE EXPLICATION.
Not only abundance of spirits, in respect of the
whole, is hurtful to the duration of things, but
also the same abundance, unevenly placed, is, in
like manner, hurtful; and, therefore, the more the
spirit is shred and inserted by small portions, the
less it preyeth; for dissolution ever beginneth at
that part where the spirit is loser. And, there-
fore, both exercise and frications conduce much
to long life, for agitation doth fineliest diflTuse and
commix things by small portions.
CANON XIV.
The inordinate and subsultory motion nf the spi-
rits doth more hasten to going forth, and doth prey
upon the body more than the constant and equal.
THE EXPLICATION.
The inanimates this canon holds for certain, for
inequality is the mother of dissolution ; but in
animates (because not only the consumption is
considered, but the reparation, and reparation
proceedeth by the appetites of things, and appe-
tite is sharpened by variety) it holdeth not rigor-
ously; but it is so far forth to be received, that
this variety be rather an alternation or inter-
change, than a confusion ; and, as it were, con-
stant in inconsistency.
CANON XV.
TTie spirit in a body of a solid composure is de-
tained, though unwillingly.
THE EXPLICATION.
All things do abhor a solution of their continuity,
but yet in proportion to their density or rarity ; for
the more rare the bodies be the more do they sutfe.
themselves to be thrust into small and narrow
passages ; for water will go into a passage whicki
H6
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
dust will not go into, and air which water will not
go into ; nay, flame and spirit which air will not
go into. Notwithstanding, of this thing there are
some bound;?, for the spirit is not so much trans-
ported with the desire of going forth, that it will
suffer itself to be too much discontinued, or be
driven into over-straight pores and passages ; and,
therefore, if the spirit be encompassed with a
hard body, or else with an unctuous and tenacious,
(which is not easily divided,) it is plainly bound,
and, as I may say, imprisoned, and layeth down
the appetite of going out; wherefore we see that
metals and stones require a long time for their
spirit to go forth, unless either the spirit be excited
by the fire, or the grosser parts be dissevered
with corroding and strong waters. The like rea-
son is there of tenacious bodies, such as are gums,
save only that they are melted by a more gentle
heat; and therefore the juices of the body hard, a
close and compact skin, and the like, (which are
procured by the dryness of the aliment, and by
exercise, and by the coldness of the air,) are good
for long life, because they detain the spirit in
close prison, that it goeth not forth
CANON XVI.
In oily and fat things the spirit is detained wil-
lingly, tJwugh they he not tenacious.
THE EXPLICATION.
The spirit, if it be not irritated by the antipathy
of the body enclosing it, nor fed by the over-much
likeness of that body, nor solicited nor invited by
the external body, it makes no great stir to get
out; all which are wanting to oily bodies, for
they are neither so pressing upon the spirits as
hard bodies, nor so near as watery bodies, neither
have they any good agreement with the air am-
bient.
CANON XVII.
The speedy fiying forth of the watery humour
conserves the oily the longer in his being,
THE EXPLICATION.
We said before, that the watery humours, as
being consubstantial to the air, fly forth soonest;
the oily later, as having small agreement with
the air. Now, whereas these two humours are in
most bodies, it comes to pass that the watery doth
in a sort betray the oily, for that issuing forth in-
sensibly carrieth this together with it. Therefore,
there is nothing more furthereth the conservation
of bodies, than a gentle drying of them, which
causeth the watery humour to expire, and inviteth
not the oily ; for then the oily enjoyeth the proper
nature. And this tendeth not only to the inhibit-
ing of putrefaction, (though that also followeth,)
but to the conservation of greenness. Hence it ,
IS, that gentle frications, and moderate exercises,
causing rather perspiration than sweating, con-
duce much to lonir life. ,
CANON XVIII.
} Jir excluded confer rtth to long life, if other in-
conveniences be avoided.
THE EXPLICATION.
We said a little before, that the flying forth of
the spirit is a redoubled action, from the appetite
of the spirit, and of the air; and, therefore, if
either of these be taken out of the way, there is
not a little gained. Notwithstanding, divers in-
conveniences follow hereupon, which how they
may be prevented we h&ve showed in the second
of our operations.
CANON XIX.
Youthful spirits inserted into an old body, might
soon turn nature's course hack again.
THE EXPLICATION.
The nature of the spirits is as the uppermost
wheel, which turneth about the other wheels in
the body of man; and therefore in the intention
of long life, that ought to l)e first placed. Here-
unto may be added, that there is an easier and
more expedite way to alter the spirits, than to
other operations. For the operation upon the
spirits is twofold; the one by aliments, which is
slow, and as it were, about; the other, (and thai
twofold,) which is sudden, and goeth directly to
the spirits, namely, by vapours, or by the aflfec-
tions.
CANON XX.
Juices of the body hard and roscid arc good for
long life.
THE EXPLICATION.
The reason is plain, seeing we showed before,
that hard things, and oily or roscid, are hardly
dissipated; notwithstanding, there is diflJerence,
(as we also noted in the tenth operation,) that
juice somewhat hard is indeed less dissipable,
but then it is withal less reparable; therefore, a
convenience is interlaced with an inconvenience,
and for this cause no wonderful matter will be
achieved by this. But roscid juice will admit
both operations; therefore this would be princi-
pally endeavoured.
CANON XXI.
Whatsoever is of thin parts to penetrate, and yet
hath no acrimony to bite, begetteth roscid juices.
THE EXPLICATION.
This canon is more hard to practise than to
understand. For it is manifest, whatsoever pene-
trateth well, but yet with a sting or tooth, (as do
all sharp and sour things,) it leaveth behind it,
wheresoever it goeth, some mark or print of dry-
ness and cleaving, so that it hardeneth the juices,
and chappeth the parts; contrarily, whatsoever
things penetrate through their thinness merely,
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
617
d^ It were oy stealth, and by way of insinuation
without violence, they bedew and water in their
passage. Of which sort we have recounted
many in the fourth and seventh ooerations.
CANON XXII.
Assimilation is best done when all local motion is
eocpended.
THE EXPLICATION.
This canon we have sufficiently explained in
our discourse upon the eighth operation.
CANON XXUI.
Alimenfation from without, at least some other
way than by the stomach, is most projitahle for long
life, if it can be done.
THE EXPLICATION.
We see that all things which are done by nu-
trition ask a long time, but those which are done
by embracing of the like (as it is in infusions)
require no long time. And, therefore, alimenta-
tion from without would be of principal use; and
so much the more, because the faculties of con-
coction decay in old age; so that if there could
be some auxiliary nutritions by bathing, unctions,
or else by clysters, these things in conjunction
might do much, which single are less available.
CANON XXIV.
Where the concoction is weak to thrust forth the
aliment, thtre the outward parts should be strengthen-
ed to call forth the aliment,
THE EXPLICATION.
That which is propounded in this canon, is not
the same thing with the former, for it is one thing
for the outward aliment to be attracted inward,
another for the inward aliment to be attracted out-
ward ; yet herein they concur, that they both
help the weakness of the inward concoctions,
though by divers ways.
CANON XXV.
All sudden renovation of the body is wrought
either by the spirit, or by malacissations.
THE EXPLICATION.
There are two things in the body, spirits and
parts ; to both these the way by nutrition is long
and about; but it is a short way to the spirits by
vapours, and by the affections, and to the parts
by malacissations. But this is diligently to be
noted, that by no means we confound alimenta-
tion from without with malacissation; for the
intention of malacissation is not to nourish the
parts, but only to make them more fit to be
nourished.
CANON XXVI.
Malacissation is wrought by consubstantials, by
imprinters, and by closers up.
THE EXPLICATION.
The reason is manifest, for that consubstantials
do properly supple the body, imprinters do carry
in, closers up do retain and bridle the perspiration,
which is a motion opposite to malacissation.
And, therefore, (as we described in the ninth
operation,) malacissation cannot well be done at
once, but in a course or order. First, by excluding
the liquor by thickness ; for an outward and gross
infusion doth not well compact the body ; that
which entereth must be subtile, and a kind of
vapour. Secondly, by intenerating by the consent
of consubstantials : for bodies upon the touch of
those things which have good agreement with
them, open themselves, and relax their pores.
Thirdly, imprinters are convoys, and insinuate
into the parts the consubstantials, and the mix-
ture of gentle astringents doth somewhat restrain
the perspiration. But then, in the fourth place,
follows that great astriclion and closure up of the
body by emplasteration, and then afterwards by
inunction, until the supple be turned into solid,
as we said in the proper place.
CANON XXVII.
Frequent renovation of the parts reparable,
water eth and renewcth the less reparable aho,
THE EXPLICATION.
We said in the preface to this history, that the
way of death was this, that the parts reparable
died in the fellowship of the parts less reparable ;
so that in the reparation of these same less repa-
rable parts, all our forces would be employed.
And, therefore, being admonished by Aristotle's
observation touching plants, namely, that the
patting forth of new shoots and branches re-
fresheth the body of the tree in the passage; we
conceive the like reason might be, if the flesh
and blood in the body of man were often renewed,
that thereby the bones themselves, and mem-
branes, and other parts, which in their own
nature are less reparable, partly by the cheerful
passage of the juices, partly by that new clothing
of the young flesh and blood, might be watered
and renewed.
CANON XXVIII.
Refrigeration, or cooling of the body, which
passeth some other ways than by the stomach, i»
useful for long life.
THE EXPLICATION.
The reason is at hand; for seeing. <i letngera
tion not temperate, but powerful, (especially of tho
blood,) is above all things necessary to long life ;
i this can by no means be effected from wituin aei
2X
bis
HISTORY OF LIFE AND DEATH.
much as is requisite, without the destruction of
the stomach and bowels.
CANON XXIX.
That intermixing, or entangling, that as well
consumption as reparation are the works of heat, is
the greatest obstacle to long life.
THE EXPLICATION.
Almost all g^reat works are destroyed by the
natures of things intermixed, when as that which
helpeth in one respect, hurteth in another; there-
fore men must proceed herein by a sound judg-
ment, and a discreet practice. For our part, we
have done so far as the matter will bear, and our
memory serveth us, by separating benign heats
from hurtful, and the remedies which tend to both.
CANON XXX.
Curing of diseases is effected by temporary me-
dicines ; but lengthening of life requireth observation
of diets.
THE EXPLICATION.
Those things which come by accident, as soon
as the causes are removed, cease again : but the
continual course of nature, like a running river,
requires a continual rowing and sailing against
the stream, therefore we must work regularly by
diets. Now, diets are of two kinds; set diets,
which are to be observed at certain times, and
familiar diet, which is to be admitted into our
daily repast. But the set diets are the more
potent, that is, a course of medicines for a time ;
for those things which are of so great virtue that
they are able to turn nature back again, are, for
the most part, more strong, and more speedily
altering, than those which may without danger be
received into a continual use. Now, in the reme-
dies set down in our intentions, you shall find
only three set diets, the opiate diet, the diet
malacissant or supplying, and the diet emaciant
and renewing. But amongst those which we
prescribed for familiar diet, and to be used daily,
the most efficacious are these that follow, which
also come not far short of the virtue of set diets.
Nitre, and the subordinates to nitre ; the regiment
of the affections, and course of our life; refrigera-
tors which pass not by the stomach ; drinks
roscidating, or engendering oily juices; besprink-
ling of the blood with some firmer matter, as
pearls, certain woods, competent unctions to keep
out the air and to keep in the spirit. Heaters from
without, during the assimilation after sleep ;
avoiding of those things which inflame the spirit,
•ind put it into an eager heat, as wine and spices.
Lastly, a moderate and seasonable use of those
things which endue the spirits with a robust
heat, as saffron, crosses, garlic, elecampane, and
i.'omiiound opiates.
CANON XXXI.
The living spirit is instantly exlinu^tiiahed, if it
be deprived either <f motion, or tf refrigeration, or
of aliment.
THE EXPLICATION.
Namely, these are those three which before we
called the porches of death, and they are the pro-
per and immediate passions of the spirit. For all
the organs of the principal parts serve hereunto,
that these three offices be performed ; and again,
all destruction of the organs which is deadly
brings the matter to this point, that one or more
of these three fail. Therefore all other things are
the divers ways to death, but they end in these
three. Now, the whole fabric of the parts is the
organ of the spirit, as the spirit is the organ of the
reasonable soul, which is incorporeous and divine.
CANON XXXII.
Flame is a momentary stibstance, air a fixed i
the living spirit in creatures is of a middle nature,
THE EXPLICATION.
This matter stands in need both of a higher
indagation, and of a longer explication than is
pertinent to the present inquisition. Meanwhile
we must know this, that flame is almost every
moment generated and extinguished ; so that it is
continued only by succession ; but air is a fixed
body, and is not dissolved ; for though air begets
new air out of watery moisture, yet, notwithstand-
ing, the old air still remains ; whence cometh thai
superoneration of the air whereof we have spoken
in the title De Ventis. But spirit is participant
of both natures, both of flame and air, even as the
nourishments thereof are, as well oil, which is
homogeneous to flame, as water, which is homo-
geneous to air ; for the spirit is not nourished
either of oily alone, or of watery alone, but of
both together ; and though air doth not agree well
with flame, nor oil with water, yet in a mixed
body they agree well enough. Also the spirit
hath from the air his easy and delicate impres-
sions and yieldings, and from the flame his noble
and potent motions and activities. In like manner
the duration of spirit is a mixed thing, being
neither so momentary as that of flame, nor so
fixed as that of air. And so much the rather it
followeth not the condition of flame, for that flame
itself is extinguished by accident, namely, by
contraries, and enemies environing it ; but spirit
is not subject to the like conditions and necessi-
I ties. Now, the spirit is repaired from the lively
! and florid blood of the small arteries which are
} inserted into the brain ; but this reparation is
j done by a peculiar manner, of which we speak
END OF THIRD PART OF THE INSTAURATIO.
THE FOURTH PART
OF THE GREAT INSTAURATION.
SCALING LADDER OF THE INTELLECT; OR, THREAD
OF THE LABYRINTH.
It would bfa difficult to find fault with tnose
who affirm that " nothing is known," if they had
tempered the rigour of their decision by a soften-
ing explanation. For, should any one contend,
that science rightly interpreted is a knowledge of
things through their causes, and that the know-
ledge of causes constantly expands, and by
gradual and successive concatenation rises, as it
were, to the very loftiest parts of nature, so that
the knowledge of particular existences cannot be
properly possessed without an accurate compre-
hension of the whole of things ; it is not easy to
discover, what can reasonably be observed in
reply. For it is not reasonable to allege, that the
true knowledge of any thing is to be attained be-
fore the mind has a correct conception of its
causes : and to claim for human nature such a cor-
rect conception universally, might justly be pro-
nounced perhaps not a little rash, or rather the
proof of an ill-balanced mind. They, however,
of whom we are writing, shrink not from thus de-
secrating the oracles of the senses, which must
lead to a total recklessness. Nay, to speak the
truth, had they even spared their false accusations,
the very controversy itself appears to originate in
an unreasonable and contentious spirit; since,
independently of that rigid truth to which they
refer, there still remains such a wide field for
human exertion, that it would be preposterous, if
not symptomatic of an unsettled and disturbed
intellect, in the anxious grasping at distant ex-
tremes, to overlook such utilities as are obvious
and near at hand. For, however they may seek,
by introducing their distinction of true and pro-
bable, to subvert the certainty of science, without
at the same time superseding the use or practically
affecting the pursuit of it, yet, in destroying the
hope of effectua-Uy investigating truth, they have
cut the very sinews of human industry, and by a
promiscuous license of disquisition converted
what should have been the labour of discovery,
into a mere exercise of talent and disputation.
We cannot, however, deny, that if there be
any fellowship between the ancients and our-
selves, it is principally as connected with this
species of philosophy : as we concur in many
things which they have judiciously observed and
stated about the varying nature of the senses, the
weakness of human judgment, and the propriety
of withholding or suspending assent; to which
we might add innumerable other remarks of a
similar tendency. So that the only difference
between them and ourselves is, that they affirm
"nothing can be perfectly known by any method
whatever; we, that "nothing can be perfectly
known by the methods which mankind have
hitherto pursued." Of this fellowship we are
not at all ashamed. For the aggregate, if it con-
sists not of those alone who lay down the above-
mentioned dogma as their peremptory and un-
changeable opinion, but of such also as indirectly
maintain it under the forms of objection and
interrogatory, or by their indignant complaints
about the obscurity of things, confess, and, as it
were, proclaim it aloud, or suffer it only to transpire
from their secret thoughts in occasional and ambi-
guous whispers; the aggregate, I say, comprises,
you will find, the far most illustrious and profound
of the ancient thinkers, with whom no modern need
blush to be associated ; a few of them may, per-
haps, too magisterially have assumed to decide
the matter, yet this tone of authority prevailed
only during the late dark ages, and now main-
tains its ground simply through a spirit of party,
the inveteracy of habit, or mere carelessness and
neglect.
Yet, in the fellowship here spoken of, it is
easy to discover that, agreeing as we do with the
great men alluded to, as to the premises of our
opinions, in our conclusions we differ from them
most widely. Our discrepancies may, indeed, at
first sight, appear to be but inconsiderable ; they
asserting the absolute, and we the modified in-
competency of the human intellect; but the prac-
tical result is this, that as they neither point out,
nor, in fact, profess to expect any remedy for th<»
519
520
SCALING LADDER OF THE INTELLECT.
defect in question, they wholly give up the busi-
ness ; and thus, by denying the certainty of the
senses, pluck up science from its very foundation ;
whereas, we, by the introduction of a new me-
thod, endeavour to regulate and correct the aber-
rations both of the senses and of the intellect.
The consequence is, that they, thinking the die
finally cast, turn aside to the uncontrolled and
fascinating ramblings of genius ; while we, by
our different view of the subject, are constrained
to enter upon an arduous and distant province,
which we unceasingly pray we may administer
to the advantage and happiness of mankind.
The introductory part of our progress we de-
scribed in our second book, which, having
entered, in the third we treated on the pheno-
mena of the universe, and on history, plunging
into and traversing the woodlands, as it were, of
nature, here overshadowed (as by foliage) with
the infinite variety of experiments; there per-
plexed and entangled (as by thorns and briers)
with the subtilty of acute commentations.
And now, perhaps, by our advance from the
woods to the foot of the mountains, we have
reached a more disengaged, but yet a more ardu-
ous station. For, from history we shall proceed
by a firm and sure track, new indeed, and hitherto
unexplored, to universals. To these paths of
contemplation, in truth, might appositely be ap-
plied the celebrated and often quoted illustration
of the " double road of active life," of which
one branch, at first even and level, conducted the
traveller to places precipitous and impassable;
the other, though steep and rough at the entrance,
terminated in perfect smoothness. In a similar
manner, Le who, in the very outset of his inqui-
ries, lays firm hold of certain fixed principles in
the science, and, with immovable reliance upon
them, disentangles (as he will with little effort^
what he handles, if he advances steadily onward,
not flinching out of excess either of self-confi-
dence or of self-distrust from the object of his
pursuit, will find he is journeying in the first of
these two tracks ; and if he can endure to suspend
his judgment, and to mount gradually, and to
climb by regular succession the height of things,
like so many tops of mountains, with persevering
and indefatigable patience, he will in due time
attain the very uppermost elevations of nature,
where his station will be serene, his prospects
delightful, and his descent to all the practical
arts by a gentle slope perfectly easy.
It is therefore, our purpose, as in the second
book we laid down the precepts of genuine and
legitimate disquisition, so in this to propound
and establish, with reference to the variety of sub-
jects, illustrative examples; and that in the form
which we think most agreeable to truth, and regard
as approved and authorized. Yet, wt do not alter
the customary fashion, as well to all the constituent
parts of this formula on absolute necessity, as if
they were universally indispensable and inviola-
ble : for we do not hold, that the industry and the
happiness of man are to be indissolubiy bound,
as it were, to a single pillar. Nothing, indeed,
need prevent those who possess great leisure, or
have surmounted the difficulties infallibly en-
countered in the beginning of the experiment,
from carrying onward the process here pointed
out. On the contrary, it is our firm conviction
that true art is always capable of advancing.
F. W.
THE FIFTH PART
OF THE GREAT INSTAURATION.
PRECURSORS; OR, ANTICIPATIONS OF THE SECOND
PHILOSOPHY.
That person, in our judgment, showed at once
both his patriotism and his discretion, who, when
he was asked, " whether he had given to his fel-
low-citizens the best code of laws," replied, "the
best which they could bear." And, certainly,
those who are not satisfied with merely thinking
rightly, (which is little better, indeed, than dream-
ing rightly, if they do not labour to realize and
effectuate the object of their meditations,) will
pursue not what may be abstractedly the best,
but the best of such things as appear most likely
to be approved. We, however, do not feel our-
selves privileged, notwithstanding our great affec-
tion for the human commonwealth, our common
country, to adopt this legislatorial principle of
selection ; for we have no authority arbitrarily to
prescribe laws to man's intellect, or the general
nature of things. It is our otlice, as faithful secre-
taries, to receive and note down as such have been
enacted by the voice of nature herself; and our
trustiness must stand acquitted, whether they are
accepted, or by the suff'rage of general opinions
rejected. Still we do not abandon the hope, that,
in times yet to come, individuals may arise who
will both be able to comprehend and digest the
choicest of those things, and solicitous also to
carry them to perfection; and, with this confi-
dence,we will never, by God's help, desist (so long
as we live) from directing our attention thither-
ward, and opening their fountains and uses, and
investigating the lines of the roads leading to
them.
Yet, anxious as we are with respect to the sub-
jects of general interest and common concern, in
aspiring to the greater, we do not condemn the
inferior, for those are frequently at a distance,
while these are at hand and around us, nor thoutrh
we offer (as we think) more valuable things, do
we therefore put our veto upon things received
and ancient, or seek to cover their estimation
with the multitude. On the contrary, we earn-
estly wish them to be amplified and improved,
and held in increased regard ; as it is no part of
Vol. III.— f.G
our ambition to withdraw men, either all, or alto-
gether, or all at once, from what is established
and current. But as an arrow, or other missile,
while carried directly onward, still, nevertheless,
during its progress incessantly whirls about in
rapid rotation ; so we, while hurrying forward to
more distant objects, are carried round and round
by these popular and prevalent opinions. And,
therefore, we do not hesitate to avail ourselves of
the fair services of this common reason and these
popular proofs; and shall place whatever conclu-
sions have been discovered or decided through
their medium (which may, indeed, have much of
truth and utility in them) on an equal footing
with the rest ; at the same time protesting against
any inferences thence to be drawn in derogation
of what we have above stated about the incompe-
tency of both this reason and of tliese proofs.
We have rather, in fact, thrown out the preceding
hints, as it were, occasionally, for the sake of
such as, feeling their progress impeded by an ac-
tual want either of talent or of leisure, wish to
confine themselves within the ancient tracts and
precincts of science, or, at least, not to venture
beyond their immediately contiguous domains;
since we conceive that the same speculations
may (like tents or resting-places on the way)
minister ease and rest to such as, in pursuance of
our plan, seek the true interpretation of nature,
and find it; and may, at the same time, in some
slight degree, promote the welfare of man, and
infuse into his mind ideas somewliat more closely
connected with the true nature of things, This
result, however, we are far from anticipating in
confidence of any faculty which we ourselves
possess, but we entertain no doubt that any one
even of moderate abilities, yet ripened mind, who
is both willing and able to lay aside his idols,
and to institute his inquiries anew and lo inves-
tigate with attention, perseverance, and freedom
from prejudice, the truths and computations of
natural history, will, of himself, by his genuine
and native powers, and by his own simple anti-
2x2 521
522
PRECURSORS.
cipations penetrate more profoundly into nature
than lie would be capable of doing^ by the most
extensive course of reading, by indefinite abstract
speculations, or by continual and repeated dispu-
tations ; though he may not have brought the
ordinary engines into action, or have adopted the
prescribed formula of interpretation.
In tills, however, we do not wish to be con-
sidered as demanding for our own dogma sthe au-
thority which we have withheld from those of
the ancients. We would rather, indeed, testify
and proclaim, that we are far from wishing to be
ourselves peremptorily bound by what we are
about to bring forward, of whatever character it
may be, to the maintenance of the whole of our
secondary and inductive philosophy. This result
of our meditations we have determined to offer
loosely, and iinconfined by the circumscription of
method ; deeming this a form botn better adapted
to sciences newly springing up as from an old
stock, and more suitable to a writer whose pre-
sent object it is not to constitute an art from com-
bined, but to institute a free investigation of indi-
vidual existences. F. W.
MISCELLANEOUS TRACTS.
[TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN.]
OF THE EBB AND FLOW OF THE SEA.
The investigation of the causes of the ebb and
flow of the sea, attempted by the ancients and
then neglected, resumed by the moderns, but
rather frittered away than vigorously agitated in
a variety of opinions, is generally, with a hasty
anticipation, directed to the moon, because of
certain correspondences between that motion, and
the motion of that orb. But to a careful inquirer
certain traces of the truth are apparent, which
may lead to surer conclusions. Wherefore, to
proceed without confusion, we must first distin-
guish the motions of the sea, which, though
thoughtlessly enough multiplied by some, are in
reality found to be only five; of these one alone
is eccentric, the rest regular. We may mention
first the wandering and various motions of what
are called currents : the second is the great six-
hours motion of the sea, by which the waters
alternately advance to the shore, and retire twice
a day, not with exact precision, but with a varia-
tion, constituting monthly periods. The third is
the monthly motion itself, which is nothing but a
cycle of the diurnal motion periodically recurring :
the fourth is the half-monthly motion, formed by
the increase of the tides at new and full moon,
more than at half-moon : the fifth is the motion,
once in six months, by which, at the equinoxes,
the tides are increased in a more marked and
signal manner.
It is the second, the great six-hours or diurnal
motion, which we propose for the present as the
principal subject and aim of our discourse, treat-
ing of the others only incidentally and so far as
they contribute to the explanation of that motion.
First, then, as relates to the motion of currents,
there is no doubt that to form it the waters are
either confined by narrow passages, or liberated
by open spaces, or hasten as with relaxed rein,
down declivities, or rush against and ascend ele-
vations, or glide along a smooth, level bottom, or
areiuffled by furrows and irregularities in the
channel, or fall into other currents, or mix with
them and become subject to the same influences,
or are affected by the annual or trade winds,
which return at regular periods of the year. That
in consequence of these and similar causes, they
vary their states of flow and eddy, both as relates
to extending and widening the motion itself, and
to the velocity and measure of the motion ; and
thus produce what we term currents. Thus, in
the seas the depth of the basin or channel, the
occurrence of whirlpools or submarine rocks, the
curvature of the shore, gulfs, bays, the various
position of islands, and the like, have great effect,
acting powerfully on the waters, their paths, and
agitations in all possible directions, eastward and
westward, and in like manner northward and
southward ; wherever, in fact, such obstacles,
open spaces, and declivities exist in their respect-
ive formations. Let us then set aside this par-
ticular, and, so to speak, casual motion of the
waters, lest it should introduce confusion in the
inquisition which we now pursue For no one
can raise and support a denial of the statement
which we are presently to make, concerning the
natural and catholic motions of the seas, by
opposing to it this motion of the currents, as not
at all consistent with our positions. For the cur-
rents are mere compressions of the water, or
extrications of it from compression : and are, as
as we have said, partial, and relative to the local
form of the land or water, or the action of the
winds. And what we have said is the more
necessary to be recollected and carefully noted,
because that universal movement of the ocean of
which we now treat is so gentle and slight, as to
be entirely overcome by the impulse of the cur-
rents, to fall into their order, and to give way, he
agitated, and mastered by their violence. Thai
this is the case is manifest particularly from this
fact, that the motion of ebb and flow, simply, is
not perceptible in midsea, especially in seas
broad and vast, but only at the shores. It is,
therefore, not at all surprising, that, as inferior
in force, it disappears, and is as it were annihi
lated amidst the currents; except that where tne
currents are favourable, it lends them some aid
and impetuosity, and, on the contrary, where thoy
523
524
EBB AND FLOW.
are adverse considerably restrains them. Waiving
then the motion of the currents, we proceed to the
four regular motions; that in the six hours, in the
month, in the half month, and in six months, of
which the sexhorary motion alone seems to pro-
duce and develope the ordinary tide, the monthly
to determine that motion and define its renewal ;
the half-monthly and half-yearly to increase and
strengthen it. For the ebb and flow, which cover
and quit again a certain extent of shore, both vary
at various hours, and according to the momentum
and quantity of tlie water; whence these three
other motions are rendered more perceptible.
We must, therefore, contemplate, singly and
specifically, as we purposed, the motion of ebb
and flow. And, first, it is necessary to grant that
this motion, the subject of inquiry, is one of these
two: either the motion of an elevation and depres-
sion, or the motion o^ d^ progression of the waters.
The motion of elevation and depression we under-
stand to be such, as is found in boiling water,
mounting and subsiding alternately in a caldron :
the motion of progression to be such as is ob-
served in water carried in a basin, which quitting
the one side, is projected to the opposite. Now,
that the motion we treat of is not of the former
sort, is in the first place suggested by this fact,
that in difierent parts of the world the tides vary
according to the times, so that in certain places
there are floods and accumulations of the mass
of waters, in others at the same hours ebb and
diminutions. Now, the waters, if they did not
travel from place to place, but rose ebullient from
the bottom, ought to rise everywhere at once,
and to sul)side together. For we see those two
other motions, the monthly and half monthly, in
full movement and operation at the same periods
throughout the globe. For the waves increase
at the equinoxes in all parts, not in certain places
under the equator, or in others under the tropics:
and the same is true of the half-monthly motion.
For, everywhere over the world, the waters are
elevated at new moon and full moon, nowhere at
half-moon. The waters, therefore, are manifestly
raised, and again depressed in these two motion?,
and like the heavenly bodies have their apogees
and perigees. But in the ebb and flow of the
sea, which we now discuss, the contrary takes
place, an unequivocal sign of progressive motion.
Besides, ere we set down the flow of the sea as
an elevation of the waters, we ought to consider
a little more carefully how that elevation can take
place. For the swelling must either be produced
by an augmentation of the mass of waters, or
from an extension or rarefaction of fluid in that
mass, or from simple elevation of the mass or
body. The third supposition we must dismiss
entirely. For if the water united in the same
body were lifted up, a vacuum would necessarily
he left between the earth and the under face of
the water, there being no body ready to scceed
and supply its place. If there were a fresh
quantity of water added, it must be by flowing
and eruption from the earth. If there were dilata-
tion only, this must take place either by solution
into greater rarity, or by a tendency to approach
another body, which, as it were, evokes the
waters, attracts them, and lifts them to greater
elevation. And, doubtless, that state of the
waters, whether considered as ebullition, or rare-
faction, or harmony with some one or other of the
heavenly bodies, cannot seem incredible, that is,
to a moderate extent, and on the supposition of the
lapse of considerable time, in which such swell-
ings and accretions may gather and accumulate.
Therefore the diflerence observable between the
ordinary, and the half-monthly tide, or the most
copious of all, the half-yearly one, in which the
addition to the mass of waters is not equal to
the difference between ordinary ebb and flow, and
has besides a large interval of time insensibly to
form, may, on the hypothesis of elevation and
depression, be consistently explained. But that
so great a mass of water should burst forth as to
explain that difference which is found between
the ebb and flow, and that this should take place
with such extreme rapidity, namely, twice a day,
as if the earth, according to the fantastic notion
of Apollonius, performed respiration, and breathed
waters every six hours, and then again inhaled
them, is very hard to believe. And let no man
be misled by the unimportant fact that in some
places wells are said to have a simultaneous mo-
tion with the ebb and flow of the sea, wh-ence one
might conjecture, that waters enclosed in the
entrails of the earth boil up in like manner, in
which case that swelling of the waters cannot be
attributed to a progressive motion. For the an-
swer is an easy one, that the flow of the sea by
its encroachment may perforate and gorge many
hollow and loose places of the earth, turn tiie
course of subterraneous waters, or cause a rever-
beration of the enclosed air, which by a continued
series of impulsions may raise the water in this
sort of wells. Accordingly, this does not take
place in all wells, nor even in many, which ought
to be the case if the entire mass of waters had a
property of periodically boiling up, and a harmony
with the tide. But, on the contrary, this rarely
happens, so as to be regarded almost as a miracle,
because, in fact, such apertures and spiracles as
reach from wells to the sea, without circuity or
impediment, are very rarely found ; nor is it un-
important to mention, what some relate, that in
deep pits situated not far from the sea, the air
becomes thick and suffocating at the time of ebb,
from which it may seem manifest, not that the
waters boil up, (for none are seen to do so,) but
that the air is reverberated. No doubt, there is
another objection, not despicable, but of great
weight, every way deserving of an answer, one
which had been the subject of careful observatiou,
EBB AND FLOW.
525
and thai not incidentally, but a thingr especially
and of purpose inquired into and discovered,
namely, that the water at the opposite shores of
Kurope and of Florida ebb at the same hours
from both shores, and do not quit the sliore of
Kurope when they roll to the shore of Florida,
like water (as we have said before) anritated in a
b:isin, but are manifestly raised and depressed at
either shore at once. But a clear solution of this
objection will be seen in the observations which
shall presently be made about the path and pro-
fjression of the ocean; tiie substance, however,
is this ; that the waters, setting out in their course
from the Indian ocean, and obstructed by the
remora of the continents of the old and new
world, are impelled alonir the Atlantic from south
to north ; so that it is no wonder if tliey are driven
against either shore equally at the same time, as
waters are wont to be, which are propelled from
the sea into estuaries and up the channels of
rivers, evidently showing that the motion of the
sea is progressive as respects the rivers, and yet
that it at once inundates both shores. Notwith-
standing, according to our custom we freely con-
fess, and would have men observe and remember,
that if it is found in experience that the tide ad-
vances at the same time on the coast of China
and Peru, as on that of Europe and Florida, this
our opinion, that ebb and flow is a progressive
motion of the sea, must be repudiated.
For if the flow of the sea takes place at the
same time at the opposite shores, as well of the
Pacific or Southern Ocean as of the Atlantic
Ocean, there are not in the universe any shores
remviiniiig, at which a corresponding ebb, at the
same time, might afl^ord a satisfactory solution of
the objer^tion. But we propose with confidence
of a trial of this by experiment, to whose test we
submit our cause: for we ace clearly of opinion,
that were the general result of a trial of this fact
through the world known to us, this compact of
nature would be found effected on sufllciently
reciprocal conditions, namely, that at any given
hour as much reflux took place in some parts of
the world as flow in others. Therefore, from what
we have stated, this motion of ebb and flow may
be affirmed progressive.
Now follows the inquiry, from what cause and
what combination of things this motion of ebb
and flow arises and is presented to view. For all
the great movements (if these be regular and per-
petual) are not isolated, or (to use here an expres-
sion of the astronomers) ferine, but have some-
thing in nature with which they move harmoni-
ously. Therefore those motions, as well as the
half-monthly one of increase as the monthly of
reparation, appear to accord with the motion of the
moon ; and again tlie half-monthly, or equinoctial,
with the motion of the sun; also the elevations
and depressions of the water, with the approxi-
mation and revolution in the orbits of the heavenly
bodies. Notwithstanding, it will not immedi-
\ ately follow from this, and we would have men
note the observation, that those things which
agree in their periods and curriculum of time, or
even in their mode of relation, are of a nature
subjected the one to the other, and stand respect-
ively as cause and effect. Thus we do not go so
far as to aflirm, that the motions of the sun ought
to be set down as the causes of the inferior mo-
I tions which are analogous to them; or that the
sun and moon (as is commonly said) have domi-
nion over these motions of the sea, although such
notions are easily insinuated into our minds from
veneration of the heavenly bodies ; but in that
very half-monthly motion, if it he rightly noted,
it were a new and surprising kind of subjection
to influence, that the tides at new and at full
.moon should be af^l'cted in the same manner,
when the moon is affected in contrary ways; and
many other things might be instanced, destroying
similar fancies of this sort of dominant influence,
and leading to this inference, that those corres-
pondences arise from the catholic affections of
matter, from the primary concatenation of causes,
and connexion of things; not as if such were
governed the one by the other, but both flowed
from the same sources and from joint causes.
Notwithstanding this, however, it remains true,
as we have said, that nature delights in barmonv,
,and scarcely admits of any thing isolated or soli-
tary. We must therefore look, in treating of the
sexhorary ebb and flow of the sea, with what
other motions it is found to agree and harmunize.
And first we must inquire with respect to the
moon, in what manner that motion blends rela-
tions or natures with the moon. But this we do
not see prevail except in the monthly repairing
of the moon, for the periodical course of six hours
has no affinity with the monthly course ; nor again
are the tides found to follow any afl!ections of the
moon. For, whether the moon be crescent or
waning, whether she be under the earth or above
the earth, whether her elevation above the horizon
be higher or lower, whether her position be in the
zenith or elsewhere, in none of these relations do
the ebb and flow of the tide correspond with her.
Therefore, leaving the moon, let us inquire
concerning other correspondences; and from all
the motions of the heavenly bodies, it is certain
that the diurnal motion is the shortest, end is
accomplished in the least period of time, that is,
in the space of twenty-four hours. It is therefore
in harmony with this, that the motion of which
we inquire, which is yet three times shorter than
the diurnal one, should be referred immediately
to that motion which is the shortest of tne
heavenly ones. But this notion has no great
weight with us in this matter. Another hypo-
thesis has more influence with us, that this motion
is so distributed, that, though the motion of the
waters is slower by innumerable degre';s. still it
526
EBB AND FLOW.
18 referable to a common measure. For the space
of SIX hours is a quarter of the diurnal motion,
which space (as we said) is found in that motion
of the sea, with a difference coinciding with the
measure of the moon's motion. Whereupon this
belief sinks deep into our mind, and looks as it
were an oracular truth, that this motion is of the
same kind with the diurnal motion. With this,
therefore, as a basis, we shall proceed to a
thorough inquiry: and we think that the whole
subject is exhausted in three points of investi-
gation.
The first is, whether that diurnal motion is con-
fined within the regions of heaven, or descends,
and penetrates to the lower parts ] The second
is, whether the seas move res^ularly from east to
west, as the heaven does ? The third, whence and
how that six hours' motion of the tides takes place
which coincides with a quarter of the diurnal mo-
tion, with a difference falling in with the measure
of the moon's motion. Now, as relates to the
first inquiry, we think that the motion of rotation,
or of turning from east to west, is not properly a
motion merely of the heavenly bodies, but mani-
festly of the universe, and a primary motion in all
the great fluids, found to prevail from the highest
part of heaven to the lowest part of the waters,
in direction the same in all, in impulse, that
is, in rapidity and slowness, widely different; in
such wise, however, that in an order not in the
least confused, the rapidity is diminished in propor-
tion as the bodies approach the globe of the earth.
Now this, it seems, may be taken as a probable
reason for supposing that that motion is not
limited to the heavens, because it prevails and is
in force through so great a depth of heaven as
lies between the starry heaven and the moon,
(a space much more extensive than that between
the moon and the earth,) with a regular diminution ;
so that it is probable that nature does not at any
point abruptly break off a harmonious motion of
this kind, diffused through such vast spheres and
gradually lessening. And that this is so in the
heavenly bodies is evinced by two inconsistencies,
which follow from the opposite hypothesis. For,
since the planets visibly perform a diurnal motion,
unless we are to suppose that motion natural and
self-moved in all the planets, we must unavoida-
bly have recourse for an explanation either to the
supposition of the primum mobile, which is evi-
dently opposed to nature; or to the rotation of
the earth, which is a notion extravagant enough,
if we look to the methods of nature. Therefore,
the motion exists in the heavenly bodies. And,
<iuitting heaven, that motion is most distinctly
visible in the inferior comets; which, though
!»iwer than the orb of the moon, evidently move
from east to west. For, though they have their
solitary and eccentric motions, yet in performing
them they for a time have a common movement,
and are >iorne along with the motion of the ether,
and with the same conversion : but in the tropica
they are not generally so confined, nor move in
the regular course, but sometimes straggle to-
wards the poles, yet, nevertheless, pursue their
rotatory motion from east to west. And thus this
motion, though it sulTers great diminution, since
the nearer it descends towards earth the con-
version is performed in smaller circles, and more
slowly, still remains powerful, so as to traverse
great distances in a short time. For these comets
are carried round the whole circumference, both
of the earth and the lower atmosphere, in the
space of twenty-four hours, with an excess of
one or two hours more. But after, by a continued
descent, it has reached these regions upon which
the earth acts, this motion, not only by the com-
munication of the earth's nature and influence,
•which represses and lowers circular motion, but
also by a substantial immission of the particles
of its matter, by means of vapours and gross ex-
lialations, becomes infinitely relaxed, and almost
falls off, yet it is not therefore wholly annihilatet.
or ceases, but remains feeble and verging to imper-
ceptible. For mariners now begin to confess that
between the tropics, where, in the open sea, the mo-
tion of the air is best perceived ; and where the air
itself, as well as heaven, revolves in a larger circle,
and therefore more rapidly, that a perennial and
gentle breeze blows from east to west, insomuch
ibat those who wish to use the south-west wind
often seek and avail themselves of it outside the
tropics. Consequently, this motion is not extin-
guished, but becomes languid and obscure, so as to
be scarcely perceptible outside the tropics. Yet,
even outside the tropics, in our own part of the
globe, Europe, at sea, in serene and peaceful
weather, there is observed a certain wind, whicl.
is of the same species; we may even conjecture
that what we exp.erience here in Europe, where
the east wind is sharp ai.d dry, and, on the con-
trary, the south-west winds are cherishing and hu-
mid, does not depend merely on the circumstance
that the one blows from a continent, the other from
the ocean, but on this, that the breath of the east
wind, since it is in the same train with the proper
motion of the air, accelerates and heightens that
motion, and therefore disperses and rarefies the
air, but that of the west wind, which is in the
contrary direction to the motion of the air, makes it
rebound upon itself, and become inspissated. Nor
ought this to be neglected, which is admitted
into the number of common observations, that
the clouds which are in motion in the upper part
of the air generally move from east to west ;
while the winds about the earth's surface gene-
rally blow at the same time the contrary way.
And if they do not this always, the reason is
this, that there are sometimes opposite winds,
some acting on the high, others on the lowest
exhalations. Now, those blowing on high, if
they be adverse, confound the real motion of the
EBB AND FLOW,
527
air. It is snffieipntly clear, then, that the motion
is not confined within tlie limits of heaven.
Then follows in order the second inquisition :
whether the waters move rejrularly from east to
west. Now, when we speak of waters, we mean
those accumulations or masses of waters which i
are such large portions of nature as to have a !
relation of harmony to the fahric and system of j
the universe. And we are fully of opinion that!
the same motion is natural to, and inherent in,
the body of waters, but is slower than in the air;
though, on account of the grossness of the body,
it is more palpable and manifest. Of this we
shall content ourselves with three selected from
many experimental proofs, but these weighty and
marked ones, which prove that this is so.
The first is, that there is found a manifest mo-
tion and flow of waters from the Indian Ocean,
even to the Atlantic, and that more swift and
strong towards the Straits of Magellan, when an
outlet is opened to them westwards ; and a great
current also on the other side of the world from
the Northern Ocean to the Britis«li Sea. And these
currents of waters manifestly roll from east to
west; in which fact we must note in the first
place, that in those two places alone the seas find
thoroughfares, and can describe in flowing a com-
plete circle: whereas, on the contrary, at the cen-
tral regions of the globe, by the two ramparts of
the old and new world, they are thrown off and
driven (as it were into the estuaries of rivers) into
the basins of the Atlantic and Pacific, the two
oceans extending between the south and north,
and open to the motion of a current from east to
west. So that the true course of the waters is
most safely inferred from the extremities of the
globe, as we have stated, where they meet with
no impediment, but sweep round in full circuit.
And the first experiment is thus, the second is the
following.
Let us suppose that the tide takes place at the
mouth of the Straits of Gibraltar at any given
hour: it is certain that the tide sets in at Cape
St. Vincent later in the day than at the mouth of
the Straits — at Cape Finisterre later than at Cape
St. Vincent, — at King's Island later than at Cape
Finisterre, — at the Island Heek later than at
King's Island, — at the entrance of the English
channel later than at Heek, — at the shore of Nor-
mandy later than at the entrance of the channel.
""I'hus far in regular order: but at Graveling, as if
by an entire inversion of the order, and that with
a great leap, as it were, at the same hour, with a
velocity like that which it has at the mouth of the
Straits of Gibraltar. This second observation we
apply to, and compare with the first. For we
think, as has already been said, that in the Indian
and northern jceans the true currents of the
waters, tliat is, from the east to the west, are open
and unimpeded, but in the channels of the At-
lantic and Southern Oceans imprisoned and cross-
ing, and reverberated by the interposition of lands,
which extend both ways longitudinally from
south to north; and nowhere but toward their
extremities afford a free canal to the waters. But
that strong direction of the waters, which is
caused by the Indian Ocean towards the nnrtii,
and in the opposite direction from the North Sea
towards the South, differ infinitely in the extent of
sea, affected on account of the different force and
quantity of waters. But that this should take
place is unavoidable. For the two great islands
of the old and new world have the same figures,
and are so stretched out as to broaden to the north,
and taper to the south. The seas, therefore, on
the contrary, towards the south occupy a vast
space, but to the north a small one, at the back of
Asia, Africa, and America; consequently, that
great mass of waters which is discharged from
the Indian Ocean, and is refracted into the Atlan-
tic, is capable of forcing or propelling the course
of the waters in a continued movement nearly to
the British Sea, which is a part of the line de-
scribed northwards. But that much smaller por-
tion of the waters which issues from the north
sea, and which has also a free passage westwards
at the back of America, is not strong enough to
turn the course of the waters southwards, except
towards that point which we mentioned, namely,
about the British Sea. Now, in these opposite
currents, there must be some goal where they
meet and contend, and where within short space
the order of advance is suddenly changed, as we
have said occurs about Graveling — the focus of
the currents from the Indian and Northern Oceans,
and that a certain ocean stream is formed by op
posite currents on the coast of Holland has been
noted by numbers, not only from the inversion of
the hour of the tide, which we have stated, 1^1
also from the peculiar visible effect. Now, if this
is so, we return to the position, that it must need*
be, that in proportion as the parts and shores of
the Atlantic extend southwards and approach th*
Indian Sea, in the same proportion the tide is
prior, and early in the order of approach, and n
proportion as you go northwards, (as far as theii
common goal,) where they are forced back by the
antagonist stream of the Northern Ocean, they are
backward and late. Now, that this is the castr,
the observation of the progression from the Straits
of Gibraltar to the British Sea manifestly proves.
Wherefore we think that the tide about the shores
of Africa is at an earlier hour than that of the
Straits of Gibraltar, and, in reversed orde>, the tide
about Norway earlier than the tide about Sweden-
hut this we have not ascertained by experiment ui
testimony.
A third experiment is the following: The sea>
confined by land on one side, which we call bays,
if they stretch out with any inclination from east
to west, which is in the same line of impetus
with the true motion nf the waters have heavy
528
EBB AND FLOW.
and powerful tides ; but if in the opposite direc-
tion, weak and scarcely perceptible. P'or the Red
Sea hath a considerable tide ; and the Persian
Grulf, wkh a yet more entire westward direction,
a still stronger. But the Mediterranean, the
greatest of all gulfs, and its parts, the Tuscan,
Pontic, and Propontic Seas, and in like manner
the Baltic, all which tend eastward, are almost
destitute of tide, or have only languid ones. But
this difference is most conspicuous in certain parts
of the Mediterranean, which, so long as they tend
eastwards or turn towards the north, as in the
Tuscan Sea and the others we have mentioned,
are pacific and without much tide. But, after
getting a westerly direction, which takes place in
the Adriatic, it requires a remarkably large tide.
To which we may also add this, that in the Medi-
terranean the slight reflux which is found begins
from the ocean, the flow from the opposite direc-
tion, so that the water follows rather a course
from the east than the natural refluence of the
ocean. The three instances only we shall use for
the present, in reference to this second inquiry.
There may be added to these another species of
proof, agreeing with those already advanced, but
of a more difficult nature. It is this : that an
argument may be sought for proof of this mo-
ti6n from east to west, not only from the consent-
ing motion of the heavens, of which we have
already spoken, — where this motion is, as it were,
in full flower and strength, — but also from the
earth when it seems wholly to cease ; so that it
is really a direction of the universe, and pervades
all things from the zenith to the interior parts of
the earth. Now, we apprehend that this conver-
sion takes place from east to west (as in reality
it is found to do) upon the south and north poles.
And Gilbertus has, with great care ard accuracy,
accomplished for us this discovery, that the whole
earth and nature, so far as we call it terrestrial,
have an inclination or popularity not softened
down, but rigid, and, as Gilbertus himself calls it,
robust, latent, but betraying itself in many nice
experiments towards the north and south. And
this observation we thus modify and correct, that
this ought to be asserted only of the exterior
formation about the surface of the earth, and
ought not to be extended to the bowels of the
earth ; for that the earth is a magnet was at one
time conceived, — a light imagination, — for it can-
not be that the inward parts of the earth resemble
any substance which the eye of man hath seen :
since all the substances among which we live are
loosened, subdued, or broken up by the sun and
heavenly bodies, so that they cannot possibly
ayree with those which have had their seat in a
\i\acl- where the influence of the heavenly bodies
does not penetrate ; — but, which is our present
eubief.t, the more superficial crusts or formations
of the earth appear to agree with the conversions
of the f:un. air. and waters, as far as solid and
fixed bodies can agree with liquid and fluid — that
is, not that they move towards the poles, but arc
pointed and turned towards the poles. For since
every revolving sphere, which has fixed poles,
participates of the nature of movable and fixed ;
after, by its consistency or self-determining na-
ture, the rotatory force is bound up, still the
force and tendency to direct itself remains, is
augmented and gathered into one; so that direc-
tion and verlicity to the poles in hard bodies
is the same with the revolution on their poles in
fluids.
The third inquiry remains. Whence and how
ariseth that reciprocal action of the tides, once in
six hours, which coincides with a quarter of the
diurnal motion, with that difference to which we
have adverted. To understand this, let us sup-
pose that the whole globe was covered with
water, as in the general deluge ; we conceive the
waters, as forming a complete and unbroken
globe, would always roll in a progression from
east to west each day to a certain extent: not
certainly a great space, on account of the remis-
sion and deliberation of that motion as it ap-
proaches the earth, seeing the waters were no-
where obstructed or confined. Let us suppose,
again, that the whole land was an island, and
that it extended longitudinally between south and
north, which confirmation and position most re-
strain and obstruct the motion from east to west;
we think that the waters would keep on in their
direct and natural course for a certain time, but,
reverberated by the shores of that island, would
roll back in equal intervals; that there would be,
therefore, only one influx of the sea a day, and in
like manner only one reflux, and that to each of
these about twelve hours would be apportioned.
And let us now suppose what is true and matter-
of-fact, that the land is divided into two islands,
those, namely, of the new and old world ; for
Australia, by its position, does not much alter the
effect; as neither does Greenland nor Nova Zem-
bla, and that these two islands extend through
nearly three zones of the world, between which
two oceans, the Atlantic and Southern, flow, and
these nowhere find a thoroughfare, except towards
the poles; we think it necessarily follows, that
these two ramparts impart and communicate the
character or double reaction to the entire mass of
waters. Whence arises that motion in the quar-
ter of a day, — so that the waters being cooped in
on both sides, the ebb and flow of the sea would
become visible twice a day, since there is a
double advance, and also a double recoil. Now,
if these two islands were extended through the
waters like cylinders or columns, of equal dimen-
sions, and with rectilinear shores, that motion
might be easily perceptible, and might be pointed
out to any one, which now seems to be perplexed
and obscured by so great a variety of position of
land and sea. For it is not difficult to form some
EDB AND FLOW.
529
conjecture what degree of velocity it is proper to
ascribe to tiiat motion of the waters, and what
distances it may describe in one day. For, if
there be selected, in order to form a judgment of
this matter, some of those coasts which are less
mountainous, or low lying, and which are con-
tiguous to the open sea, and then the measure of
the space of the globe interjacent between the ex-
treme points of the flux and reflux, and that space
be quadrupled on account of the four movements
of the tide each day, and that number again
doubled on account of the tides at the opposite
shores of the same ocean ; and to this number
there be something added over and above on ac-
count of the height of the shores, which always
rise to a certain elevation above the channel of
the sea; that calculation will give the space
which this sphere of water, were it free from ob-
struction, and moving in progression round the
enveloped globe of earth, would describe in one
day, which certainly would not be great.
Now, with respect to that difference which
coincides with the measure of the moon's motion,
and forms the period of a lunar month ; we think
that the explanation is this, that tiie period of six
liours is not the exact measure of this reaction,
just as the diurnal motion of any of the planets is
not accomplished in twenty-four hours precisely,
and least of all that of the moon. Wherefore, the
measure of the ebb and flow of the tide is not a
quarter of the motion of the fixed stars, which
is twenty-four hours, but a quarter of the diurnal
motion of the moon.
DIRECTIONS.
Let it be inquired, whether the hour of the tide
on the coast of Africa be before the hour of tide
about the Straits of Gibraltar. Let it be inquired
whether the hour of the tide about Norway is
before the hour of the tide about Sweden, and
that, in like manner, before the hour of the tide
at Graveling]
Let it be inquired, whether the hour of the
tide on the coast of Brazil be before the hour of
the tide on the coast of New Spain and Florida 1
Let it be inquired, whether the hour of the tide
at the shores of China is not found nearly the
same with the hour of tide on the coast of Peru,
and with the hour of reflux on the coast of Africa
and Florida?
Let it be inquired, how far the hour of tide on
the coast of Peru diflfers from the hour of tide at
the coast of New Spain ; and particularly what
are the differences of the hour of tide at either
shore of the Isthmus of Darien, in America;
again, how far the hour of tide on the coast of
Peru corresponds with the hour of tide on the
coast of China 1
Let it be inquired respecting the largeness of
the tides on different coasts, not merely respecting
their periods or hours. For, although the large-
ness of tides is generally caused by the depres-
sions of the shores, yet, notwithstanding, they
are closely connected with the true principle of
the motion of the sea, according as it is favourable
or adverse.
Let inquiry be made with respect to the Caspian
sea, which is formed by considerable bodies of
water locked up, without any outlet into the
ocean, if they are subject to ebb and flow, and
whatl our conjecture being that the waters ot
the Caspian Sea may have one tide a day, not
two, and such that the easterji shores of it are
deserted by the sea, while the western are over-
flowed.
And let inquiry be made, whether the increase
of the tide at new and full moons and at tho
equinoxes, takes place at the same time in dif-
ferent parts of the world, (and when we say at
the same time, we do not mean at the same hrur,
for the hours vary, according to the rapidity of the
waters' motion towards the shores, as we have
said,) but in the same day.
Limits. The inquiry is not extended to a full
explanation of the harmony of the monthly mo-
tion of the sea with the moon's motion, whether
that takes place from a subordinate or a joint
cause.
Relaiions. The present inquiry is connected
with the inquiry whether the earth revolves with
the diurnal motion of the heavens. For if the
tide is, so to speak, the last stage of the gradual
diminution of the diurnal motion, it will follow,
that the globe of the earth is immovable, or at
least that its motion is slower by far than that
of the water. W. G. G
Vol. IIL— 67
8Y
TRANSLATION OF
THE ABECEDARIUM NATURiG,
BY ARCHBISHOP TENNISON.
lOBLlSHED m THE BACONIAN^, 1679.
THE SAME IN ENGLISH BY THE PUBLISHER.
A Fragment of a Book written hij the Lord Verulam, and entitled, The Alphabet of Nature.
St:EiNG SO many things are produced by the
earth and waters ; so many things pass through
the air, and are received by it; so many things
are changed and dissolved by fire ; other inquisi-
tions would be less perspicuous, unless the nature
of those masses which so often occur, were well
known and explained. To these we add inquisi-
tions concerning celestial bodies, and meteors,
seeing they are some of greater masses, and of
the number of catholic bodies.*
Greater Masses.
The sixty-seventh inquisition. The threefold
Tau, or concerning the earth.
The sixty-eighth inquisition. The threefold
Upsilon, or concerning the water.
The sixty-ninth inquisition. The threefold
Piii, or concerning the air.
The seventieth inquisition. The threefold Chi,
01 concerning the fire.
The seventy-first inquisition. The threefold
Psi, or concerning celestial bodies.
The seventy-second inquisition. The threefold
Omega, or concerning meteors.
Conditions of Entities.
There yet remain, as subjects of our inquiry,
in our alphabet, the conditions of beings, which
seem, as it were, transcendentals, and such as
touch very little of the body of nature. Yet, by
that manner of inquisition which we use, they
will considerably illustrate the other objects.
First, therefore ; seeing (as Democritus excel-
lently observed) the nature of things is in the
plenty of matter, and variety of individuals large,
and (as he aflirmeth) infinite; but in its coitions
and species so finite, that it may seem narrow
and poor ; seeing so few species are found, either
in actual being or impossibility, that they scarce
m.iKe up a muster of a thousand ; and seeing
• See the distribiuion, in I. 2, c. 3, de Augm. Scient. p. 134,
135, 136. Ed. Lupd. Bat. 1. 3, c. 4, p. 231. And c. 4. Globi
Intellect p. 88. 89.
negatives subjoined to affirmatives, conduce much
to the information of the understanding: it is fit
that an inquisition be made concerning being, and
not being. That is the seventy-third in order,
and reckoned the fourfold Alpha.
Conditions of beings. The fourfold Alpha ; or,
concerning being, and not being.
Now, possible and impossible, are nothing else
but conditions potential to being, or not potential
to being. Of this the seventy-fourth inquisition
consists, and is accounted the fourfold Beta.
Conditions of beings. The fourfold Beta; or,
concerning possible and impossible.
Also, much, little; rare, ordinary; are condi-
tions potential to being in quantity. Of them let
the seventy-fifth inquisition consist, and be ac-
counted the fourfold Gamma.
Conditions of beings. The fourfold Gamma; or,
concerning much and little.
Durable and transitory, eternal and momentary,
are potential to being in duration. Of these let
the seventy-sixth inquisition consist, and be called
the fourfold Delta.
Conditions of beings. The fourfold Delta; or,
concerning durable and transitory.
Natural and monstrous, are potential to being,
either by the course of nature, or by its deviations
from it. Of these let the seventy-seventh inquisi-
tion consist, which is accounted the fourfold
Epsilon.
Conditions of beings. The fourfold Epsilon;
or, concerning what is natural or monstrous.
Natural and artificial, are potential to being,
either with or without the operation of man. Of
these let the seventy-eighth inquisition consist,
and be accounted the fourfold Zeta.
Conditions of bei7igs. The fourfold Zeta ; or,
of that which i^natural and artificial.
We have not subjoined examples in the explica-
tion of the order of this our alphabet : for the
inquisitions themselves contain the whole array
of examples.
It is by no means intended, that the titles, ac-
530
ALPHABET OF NATURE.
531
cordingf to which the order of this alphahrt is
disposed, should have so much authority ^iven to
them, as to be taken for true and fixed partitions
of thinjrs. That were to profess we already
knew the things after which we inquire; for no
man does truly dispose of things into their several
classes, who does not beforehand very well under-
stand the nature of them. It is sufficient, if
these titles be conveniently adapted to the order of
inquiry; the thing which is at present designed.
The Rule or Form of the alphabet.
After this manner we compose and dispose our
alphabet:
We begin solely with history and experiments.
These, if they exhibit an enumeration and series
of particular things, are disposed into tables ;
otherwise, they are taken separately and by
themselves.
But, seeing we are often at a loss for history
and experiments, especially such as are lucife-
rous, or instructive, and, as we call them, in-
stances of the cross ;* by which the understanding
might be helped in the knowledge of the true
causes of things : we propose the task of making
new experiments. These may serve as a his-
tory in design. For what else is to be done by
us who are but breaking the ice ?
For the mode of any more abstruse experiment,
we explain it, lest any mistake arise about it;
and to the intent, also, that we may excite others
to excogitate better methods.
Also, we interspect certain admonitions and
cautions concerning such fallacies of things, and
errors in invention, as we meet with in our way.
We subjoin our observations upon history and
experiments, that the interpretation of nature
may be the more in readiness and at hand.
Likewise, we lay down canons (but not such
as are fixed and determined) and axioms which
are, as it were, in embryo : such as offer them-
• See Nov. Organ., I. 9., Aph. 30,
selves to us in the quality of inquirers, and not
of judges. Such canons and axioms are profita-
ble, though they appear not yet manifest, and
upon all accounts true.
Lastly: we meditate sometimes certain essays
of interpretation, though such as are low and of
small advance, and by no means to be honoured
(in our opinion) with the very name of interpre-
tation.
For, what need have we of arrogance or impos-
ture, seeing we have so often professed that we
have not such a supply of history and experi-
ments as is needful ; and that, without these, the
interpretation of nature cannot be brought to per-
fection. Wherefore, it is enough for us if we
are not wanting to the beginning of things.
Now, for the sake of perspicuity and order, we
prepare our way by avenues, which are a kind of
prefaces to our inquisitions. Likewise, we inter-
pose bonds of connection, that our inquisitions
may not seem abrupt and disjointed.
Also, we suggest for use some hints of practice.
Furthermore, we propose wishes of such things
as are hitherto only desired and not had, together
with those things which border on them, for the
exciting the industry of man's mind.
Neither are we ignorant that those inquisitions
are sometimes mutually entangled ; so that some
things of which we inquire, even the same things
belong to several titles. But we will observe
such measure, that (as far as may be) we may
shun both the nauseousnessof repetition, and the
trouble of rejection, submitting, notwithstanding,
to either of these, when, in an argument so ob-
scure, there is necessity of so doing, in order to
the more intelligible teaching of it.
This is the form and rule of our alphabet.
May God, the creator, preserver, and renewer
of the universe, protect and govern this work,
both in its ascent to his glory, and in its descent
to the good of mankind, for the sake of his mercy
and good will to men, through his only Son, Im
manuel, God with us.
TRANSLATION OF
CATALOGUE OF BODIES, ATTRACTIVE AND NOT
ATTRACTIVE.
BY ARCHBISHOP TENNISON.
PUBLISHED IN THE BACONIANA, 1678.
^F there be made a turn-pin of any metal, after
Me fashion of a magnetic needle, and amber be
4}»plied to one end of it, after having been gently
ruobed, the pin will turn.
Amber heated by the fire, be it warmish, hot, or
set on fire, it does not draw.
A little bar of iron red-hot, flame, a lighted
candle, a hot coal, put nigh sheaves (or straws)
or turn-pins, (or compass needles,) do not draw.
Amber, in a greater mass, if it be polite, draws,
though not rubbed : irr a lesser quantity, and in a
less polite mass, it draws not without rubbing.
Crystal, lapis specularis, glass, and other such
electric bodies, if burned, or scorched, draw not.
Pitch, the softer rosin, benjoin, asphaltum,
camphire, galbanum, ammoniac, storax, assa,
these draw not at all when the air is hot : but
when it is cooler, they draw weakly, and so that
we can just perceive them to do so.
Reeking air, blovvn-up amber, &c., from the
mouth, or from a moister atmosphere, choketh
the attractive virtue.
If a paper, or a piece of linen, be put between
amber and chaflf, there is no motion, or attraction
made.
Amber, or other electrics, warmed by the sun-
beams, have not their attractive virtue so awaken-
ed, as by rubbing.
Amber rubbed, and exposed to the beams of the
sun, retains its attractive force the longer; and
does not so soon lose it, as it would do in the
shadow.
Heat derived from a burning-glass to amber,
&c., does not help its attraction.
Sulphur, and hard wax, set on fire, do not
draw.
Amber, when, immediately after rubbing, it is
I applied to a shiver, or a compass-needle, draws
best of all.
The electric virtue is as vigorous, for a time, in
its retention, as it was in its first attraction.
Flame (amber being put within the sphere of
its activity) is not drawn by it.
A drop of water, amber being applied towards
it, is drawn into a cone.
If electric bodies be rubbed too hard, their
attraction is thereby hindered.
Those bodies, which in a clear sky do scarce
draw, in a thick air move not at all.
Water put upon amber choketh its attractive
force, though it draweth the water itself.
Fat* so encompassing amber, that it toucheth
it, takes away its attraction ; but being so put
betwixt it and the object to be drawn, as not to
touch it, it doth not take it away.
Oil put upon amber, hinders not its motion :
neither doth amber, rubbed with the finger moist-
ened with oil, lose its attractive virtue.
Amber, jeats, and the like, do more strongly
excite, and longer retain the objects they draw,
although the rubbing be but little. But diamonds,
crystal, glass, ought to be rubbed longer,' that
they may appear hot, ere they be used for attrac-
tion.
Flames nigh to amber, though the distance be
very small, are not drawn by it.
Amber, &c., draw the smoke of a lamp newly '
extinguished.
Amber draws smoke more strongly when it
comes forth, and is more gross ; and more weakly,
when it ascends and becomes thinner.
A body drawn by electric bodies, is not mani-
festly altered, but only leans itself upon them.
* For by Sarca, I suppose, he meaneth Sarcla.
532
INQUISITION OF THE CONVERSIONS OF BODIES.
TRANSLATED BY A. BLAIR, ESQ., 1630.
Inquisition of the Conversions, Transmutations,
Multiplications, and Productions of Bodies.
Earth, by fire, is converted into bricks, which
are of the nature of stones, and which we use for
buildincr, like stones. So with tiles.
Naphtha, which was that bituminous cement,
wherewith the walls of Babylon were built, by
time acquires exceedingly great hardness and
firmness, equal to stone.
In clayey lands, where are pebbles and gravel,
you shall find huge stones, concreted of pebbles
and gravel, with stony matter interposed, as hard,
or truly harder, than the pebbles themselves.
There are certain springs of water, wherein if
you immerse wood, it shall be turned into the na-
ture of stone ; so as that the part sunk in the
water shall become stone, the part above the
water shall remain wood.
The vriscous matter about the kidneys and
bladder, in the human body, is converted into a
pebble or stony matter. A stone, also, is often
found in the gall-bladder; and sometimes, but
this is most rare, in the vena porta.
Quaere, how much time is required, that the
matter of earth, in stone-quarries, may be con-
verted into the stony nature?
Water, as there is reason to think, is changed
into crystal ; which may be seen in many eaverna.
where the crystal hangs in drops.
You may have an experiment of wood, oi
the stalks of plants, buried in quicksilver, whe
ther they will harden, and, as it were, petrify,
or no.
Report has much prevailed of a stone bred in
the head of an old and great toad.
It is related that a certain nobleman, digging
in the bed of his pool, found an egg turned into
stone, the white and yolk retaining their proper
colour; but the shell brightly sparkling, like a
diamond exquisitely cut in faces.
Make experiment of some bodies, let down
near to the bottom of a well, as wood, or other
softer substances ; but let them not touch the
water, lest they rot.
They say that the white of an egg, through
long insolation, or exposure in the sunbeams, has
contracted the hardness of a stone.
Mud, in water, is converted in the shells of
fishes, as in muscles, — (the fish) which are found
in pools of fresh water, that flow not, and are
covered with moss. But the substance of those
shells is exceedingly delicate, clear, and glis-
tening.
THE MASCULINE BIRTH OF TIME ;
GREAT INSTAURATION OF MAN'S DOMINION OVER THE UNIVERSE
To God the Father, God the Word, God the
Holy Ghost, I address my most humbled and
ardent prayers, that, mindful of the miseries of
man, and of this pilgrimage of life, of which the
days are few and evil, they would open up yet
new sources of refreshment from the fountains of
good, for the alleviation of our sorrows ; and, also,
that things divine may not in this be prejudiced
by things human, nor from the opening up of the
passages of sense, and the kindling of greater
natural light, any infidelity or darkness may
arise in our minds towards the mysteries of Gon ;
but rather that, by the understanding cleansed
and purified from fantastic and vain ideas, yet
wholly submissive and subjected to the divine
oracles, those things which are of faith may b«
rendered to faith.
W. G. G.
2 T 3 b33
TRANSLATION OF
THE MASCULINE BIRTH OF TIME;
THREE BOOKS CONCERNING THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.
1. The Purification and Application of
THE Mind.
2. The Light of Nature, ob Method of In-
terpretation.
3. Nature Illuminated, or the Truth of
Things.
C. I. Legitimate Mode of Statement.
I find, my son, that men in showing forth, and
no less in concealing the knowledge which they
think they have acquired, have not acted in a
spirit of good faith and of duty. No less mis-
chievous, though perhaps less shameful, is the
error of those who, with good intentions, but lit-
tle wisdom, are ignorant of the art and rules
proper for setting forth their several subjects.
We do not intend, however, to begin a complaint
of either this perversity or ignorance in the ex-
pounders of knowledge. Had they, by unskilful
teaching, broken down the weight of the subjects
taught, it might, no doubt, have been matter
of just indignation. But, in teaching inaptitude,
it w^as natural to expect absurdity. I, however, j
far different from such instructors, intend to im-
part to you not fictions of imagination or shadows
of words ; not a mixture of religion ; not certain j
commonplace observations, or certain well-known :
experiments adjusted to conformity with fanciful
theories, but to bind, and place at your command,
nature with her offspring about her; and can this
be supposed a theme fit to be debased by preten-
sion or unskilfulness, or other defective treatment.
So may I exist, my son, and so may I extend the
now deplorably narrow limits of man's dominion
over the universe to the permitted boundaries,
(which is the only object of my prayers among
human things,) as I shall disclose to you these
things with the fullest conviction, with the deep-
est forecast of my mind, and after the profoundest
research into the present state of knowledge, in
the method of all others the most legitimate.
"And what," you will say, "is this legitimate
method ? Have done with artifice and circumlo-
cution ; show me the naked truth of your desio-n,
that I may be able to form a judgment for my-
self." I would, my dearest son, that matters
were in such a state with you as to render this
possible. Do you suppose that when all the en-
trances and passages to the minds of all men are
infested and obstructed with the darkest idols, and
these deep-seated and burned in, as it were, into
their substance, that clear and smooth spaces can
be found for receiving the true and natural rays
of objects'? A new process must be instituted,
by which to insinuate ourselves into minds so en-
tirely obstructed. For as the delusions of the
insane are removed by art and ingenuity, but ag-
gravated by violence and opposition, so must we
adapt ourselves here to the universal insanity.
What ! do even those less diflicult requisites per-
taining to the legitimate method of delivering
knowledge, appear to you such light and pasy
matters'? That it be ingenuous, that is, afford
no handle or occasion for error; that it have a
certain native and inseparable quality, both to
conciliate belief, and repel the injuries of time, so
that the knowledge so delivered, like a vigorous
and healthy plant, may daily shoot and thrive ;
that it appear to place itself in, and adapt itself to
the situation of its proper and reasonable reader :
whether I shall show in the sequel all these qua.
lities or not, I appeal to futurity. W. G. G.
534
THE HISTORY AND FIRST INQUISITION OF
SOUND AND HEARING,
TOUCHING THE FORM OF SOUND, AND THE SECRET PROCESS OF SOUND,
OR THE WOOD OF SOUND AND HEARING.
Of the geneiation of sound, and the first per-
cussion.
Of the lastintr of sound, and of the perishing
and extinction of sounds.
Of the confusion and perturbation of sounds.
Of the accessory aids and impediments of
sounds.
Of the stay of sound, and the diversity of me-
diums.
Of the penetration of sounds.
Of the carriacre of sounds, and their direction or
spreadincr, and of the area which sound fills, to-
gether and severally.
Of the variety of the bodies, which yield sound ;
and the instruments ; and of the species of sounds
which occur.
Of the multiplication, majoration, diminution,
and fraction of sounds.
Of the repercussion of sounds, and echo.
Of the consent and dissents of audibles and
visibles, and of other (so cal'ed) spiritual species.
Of the quickness of the generation and extinc-
tion of sound, and the time in which they are
effected.
Of the affinity or non-affinity which sound hath
with the motion, local and perceptible, of the air
in which it is carried.
Of the communication of the air percussed and
elided, with the ambient air, and bodies, or their
spirits.
Of the forming or articulation of sound.
Of the very impression of sounds upon the
sense.
Of the organ of hearing, and its disposition and
indisposition, helps, and hindrances.
The inquiry into sound and hearing I have
thought well forthwith to set on foot; for it ad-
vantageth the understanding, and, as it were,
makes matter of its health, that the contempla-
tions of the spiritual species, as they call them,
and of operations at distance, he mixed with the
contemplation of those things, which work by
communication only of the substance to the touch.
Again, the observations concerning sounds have
brcuj;ht forth to us the art of music. But it is
customary, and as it were invariable, when trials
and observations have grown into art, that the
mathematic and practic is pursued, the physic is
left. Moreover, optic fareth some whit better;
for not only the art of painting, and beauty, and
symmetry are propounded unto optic, but the con-
templation of all visibles; but unto music, only
musical tones. Therefore we do inquire of sounds.
Of the Generation of Sound, and the First Per-
cussion.
The collision, or elision, as they speak, mean-
ing thereby some section or cutting of the air,
which they will have to be the cause of sound,
imports neither the form, nor the secret process
of sound, but is a term of ignorance and superficial
contemplation.
Sound is diffused and moves with so small an
impulse in its generation; also so far, and that in
round, not much depending on the first direction;
withal so smoothly, without any evident motion,
found either by flame, or by feathers and straws,
or in any other manner; that it seems altogether
hard that the form of sound should be any cutting,
or local and perceptible motion of the air, howso-
ever this may hold the part of the efficient.
For that sound is so suddenly generated, and
straightway dies, it seems necessary that either
its generation do a little thrust the air from its
nature, and its perishing restore it, as in the com-
pressions of waters, whereas a body cast into the
water makes many circles in the waters, that
come of the water at first compressed, afterward
restoring itself into its proper consistence and di-
mension; (which we have used to call the mo-
tion of liberty ;) or that, contrariwise, the genera-
tion of sound be an impression pleasant and
kindly, that winneth upon the air, and whereunio
the air freely stirreth itself, and that its extinction
be t>om some enmity, which suffers not the air
longer to enjoy that agitation and impression; as
in thep-enerationofthe very body of flame, wherein
I the generation of the flame appears to be made
I with alacrity, but by the air and other environing
adversaries presently to be destroyed.
; The whistling which is made by the inoutlu
.5.'].'".
536
OF SOUND AND HEARING.
without use of a whistle, may be efFtcted by sack-
ing in of the breath toward the inner parts of the
mouth, not only by expelling of the breath out-
wards; and clearly all sucking of the air inwards
gives a sound, which seems exceeding worthy of
remark: because the sound is generated against
the perceptible motion of the air, so as the first
impulsion of the air appears plainly to be the
remote efficient, and no part of the form of sound.
In like manner, if there be an egg of glass
taken, and the air through a small hole forcibly
sucked out ; then the hole stopped with wax, and
it be laid by for a time; if afterwards the wax be
removed from the hole, you shall hear plainly the
hissing of the air entering into the egg, being
drawn, to wit, by the inner air, after forcible rare-
faction, restoring itself. So as in this trial also,
sound is generated contrarily to the perceptible
motion of the air.
In like manner, in the toy that is called a jew's-
harp, holding the sides betwixt the teeth, the
little tongue of iron is drawn outwards and jarred,
when it flies back inwards against the air that is
in the mouth, and thence is a sound created.
And in these three trials it may not be doubted
but that sound is generated by the percussion of
the air inwards towards the mouth on the egg of
glass.
Sound is generated by percussions. The per-
cussion is either of air against air, or of a hard
body against the air, or of a hard body against
a hard body.
The instance of the percussion of air against
air chiefly prevails in the human voice, and in the
voices of birds and of other animals; next in
musical wind instruments ; also in ordnance,
greater and less, where the percussion that gives
the sound is generated chiefly by the percussion
of the confined air that issues from the mouth of
the piece against the outer air; for the bullet
wherewith it is charged makes not much to the
noise. Neither is the percussion of a soft body
against a soft body only seen in the percussion of
air against air, but also of air against flame, as in
the raising of a flame with bellows; also flames
amongst themselves, when one drives another,
yield a certain roaring; but whether the air assist
here may be further inquired. Also, all flame
that suddenly taketh, if it be of any greatness,
makes a sound, rather, as I think, in displacing of
the air than of itself. Also in eruptions, there is
percussion made of the spirit breaking out against
the air adjacent ; as in the cracklings made by dry
leaves, or bay-salt, and many other things, when
cast into the fire; and in thunder, either by the
spin' oreaking out from the cloud, or wallowing
and tossed to and fro, as in the more hollow and
lengthened rolling of thunder; also we see in
eport that a fresh rose-leaf gathered together
so as i: shall contain air, and struck upon the
back of the hand, or upon the forehead, cracks by
eruption of the air.
Instances of the percussion of a hard body
against the air, are seen in musical stringed
instruments; in the whistling of an arrow, as it
flies through the air ; in the beating of the air,
although it strike not any hard body ; also, in
regals, their sound is given by the air striking
against water; in the pipe they call the nig;^/ tin-
gale-pipe, which gives a sound continually tum-
bling; in water agitated and restoring itself again;
and in the toys wherewith children please them-
selves, (they call them cocks,) in imitation of the
voices of birds ; likewise in other hydraulics.
Instances of the percussion of a hard body
against a hard body, are found either simply, or
with communication of some air enclosed beside
that air, which is cut or elided between the hard
bodies percussed; simply, as in all hammering
or knocking of hard bodies, with communication
of air penned in, as in bells and drums.
A stone cast forcibly into the water gives a
sound; as do the drops of rain falling upon the
water, and no less wave dashing against wave, in
which there is percussion betwixt a hard body
and water.
It seemeth to be constant in the generation of
all sound, that there are certain parts of air, and
that air is required between the bodies percussed ;
which air, in the percussion of a hard body against
the air, and of a hard body against a hard body,
appears manifestly to be cut or elided. I judge
that flame should suffice for this in the stead of
air, as if in the midst of a great flame a bell
should be rung, or stones knocked together ; but
in the percussion of air against air this elision or
separation appears more dark, but the air seems
only to be beaten and driven, and that in a soft
voice, very gently. But it seems, even in this
kind, to need that there be some elision of the air
percussed by the air percussing; for even in air
moved by a fan, the air from the side of the fan,
and when air is blown out of bellows, the blast
of air from the mouth, divides the other air. But
concerning this kind of elision of the air, which
happens when the percussion of air against air
createth sound, as in the voice, let inquiry be
made further.
It is well doubted, whether the percussion thaf
produces sound, when the air is percussed by a
string, or otherwise, be from the beginning, when
the string starting back percusses tne air, or a
little after, the air, to wit, being compressed by the
first percussion, and thereafter acting the part, as
it were, of a hard body.
When sound is yielded by the percussion of
air against air, it is required that there be an
imprisoning or penning of the air in some coiv-
cave, as in whistling by the mouth, in pipes, in
the viol, in the voice ; which is divided, where
OF SOUND AND HEARING.
537
ihe air is penned in the hollow of the mouth or
throat. In the percussion of a hard body against
air is required hardness of the hody and quick
motion, and sometimes communication with a
concave, as in the cittern, lute, beatintr of the air,
&c. ■ but in the percussion of a hard body against
a hard body, the hollow, or the quick motion, is
?css required.
There is a talk of a white gunpowder, which
should give percussion without noise. It is sure
that nitre, which is white, is of great force for
expulsion, yet in such wise as the speedy kindling
doth much enhance both the percussion and the
noise; but the quick kindling is caused specially
by the coal of willows, which is black. There-
fore, if a composition were made of sulphur and
nitre, and a modicum of camphor, it is like that
the kindling would be slower, and the percussion
not so jarring and sharp ; whence much might be
diminished of the sound, but with loss too in the
strength of the percussion. To be further
inquired.
Of the Lasting of Sound, and its Perishing and
Extinction.
The lasting of the sound of a bell that is struck,
or of a string, which seems to be prolonged, and
gradually to fade, comes not rightly of the first
percussion, but the trembling of the body per-
cussed generates in the air continually new
sound. For, if that trembling be checked, and
tlie bell or string stayed, the sound quickly dies;
as in virginals, where, if the quill be dropped so
that it touch the string, the sound ceases.
A bell hanging in the air gives a far louder and
more enduring sound if it be chimed upon with a
hammer on the outside, than if it stood fixed, and
were in like manner chimed upon with a hammer.
And of the more enduring sound the reason is
rendered already, because it trembleth lono-er.
But that even the first sound in the hanging bell
is more resounding, in the standing less, would be
further inquired.
Likewise a drinking cup of silver or of glass
that is fillipped, if it be left alone, gives a sound
louder and more lasting ; but if the foot of the cup
be steadied with the other hand, a far duller, and
of shorter stay.
The sound which is yielded in the viol or cit-
tern is plainly not made by the percussion between
the finger, or the quill, and the string, or between
the finger, or the quill, and the air, but by the
finger impelling, and thereafter the string flying
back, and in that recoil percussing the air. There-
fore, when the string is moved with a bow, not
by the finger, or a qui'l, the sound can be con-
tinued at pleasure, through the roughness of the
string of the bow, which is a little smeared with
rosin ; whence it slides not on the string, nor once
strikes it. but holds and continually tortureth it,
out of which motion the sound is maintained.
Vol. Ill 68
It can be taken for an argument, that sound \»
manifestly some kind of local motion in the air.
that it so suddenly fails ; because, in all cutting
or impulsion of the air, the air quite recovers and
restores itself, which also water doth through
many circles, albeit not so speedily as the air.
Of the Confusion and Perturbation of Sounds.
In the act of sight, visibles from one part im-
pede not visibles from other parts; but all the
visibles which offer themselves from every part,
lands, waters, woods, the sun, buildings, men, are
at once represented to the eyes. But, if so many
voices or sounds did at once issue from several
parts, the hearing should be plainly confounded,
nor might distinctly perceive them.
The greater sound confoundcth the less, that it
should not be heard ; but spiritual species, as
they speak of a diverse kind from sound, confuse
not sound, but altogether and at once hang in the
air, the one little or nothing troubling the other;
as light, or colour, heat and cold, smells, magnetic
virtues ; all these together can hang in the air, nor
yet do greatly hinder or disturb sounds.
The cause wherefore many visibles are at once
represented unto the eyes, the one not confound-
ing the other, would seem to be none other but
this : that visibles are not seen except in a right
line, but sounds are heard even in a line obli(|ue,
or arcuate. Therefore, as many objects in tiie
area of the sphere of sight, as are conveyed, there
be so many cones of beams, nor ever one cone
doth coincide with another; nfither do the ver-
tices of the cones meet in the same point, because
they are carried by right lines. But sounds, which
are carried by lines, both right and arcuate, can
meet easily in one point, and so are confused.
The same seemeth to be the cause wherefore a
more bright colour drowns not a more dim colour ;
nevertheless, a greater light obscures and hides
a weaker light, because light is perceived in an
arched line, like as sound. For, although the
very flame of a candle be not seen except in a
right line, yet does the light that is everywhere
spread round attain to the sight in lines, arched
in respect of the body of the candle : the like is
the case of the sun, or flame. Now, if it be ob-
jected that neither is light itself seen except in a
right line from air illuminated, it is true; but I
think that this as well happens to sound : for
neither is sound heard unless in right lines from
some part of the sphere of sound, whither the first
pulsation arrives. But colour, which is nothing
other than the image unequally reflected of the
light, spreadeth around so weak species, that it
little or nothing tinges the air adjacent, unless
where the colours are conveyed in right lines be.
tween the object and the eye.
Let there be a trial made with a double recorder,
in which let there be two fipples, at each end one.
so as they may be played in unison : the hollow
038
OF SOUND AND HEARING.
pipe being of a double length, and continued in
one ; let two together play the same tune at either
end, and let it be noted whether the sound be con-
fused, or amplified, or dulled.
Let there be two hollow trunks taken, and
joined together crosswise, so as they shall open
the one into the other, in the place where they are
joined; and let two speak into the direct and
transverse trunk, and let the ears of two be in
like manner applied to the opposite ends, and
observe whether the voices confuse one another.
Of the accessary Aids and Impediments of Sound ;
of the Stay of Sound ; and the Diversity of
Mediums.
I remember in a chamber in Cambridge that
'vas something ruinous, that a pillar of iron was
erected for a prop, of the thickness perhaps of a
thumb's breadth and a half; and that this pillar,
being struck with a stick or otherwise, made a
little flat noise in the chamber wherein the pillar
stood, but in the chamber beneath a resounding
boom.
To inquire, which bodies, and of what solidity
and thickness, altogether debar and shut out
sound ; as, also, which more or less dull, although
they intercept it not wholly. For as yet is it not
known which mediums interposed be more propi-
tious, which more adverse. Therefore, let there
be trial made in gold, stone, glass, cloth, water,
oil, and of the thickness of each. Hereof is all
need to inquire further.
Air is the aptest, and, as it were, the sole me-
dium of sound. Again, the moister air (I judge)
better conveyeth sound than the drier; but in a
fog what happeneth I remember not. Also, the
night air better than by day; but this can be
ascribed to the silence.
Inquire touching the medium of flame, what its
operation shall be in respect of sound ; whether,
to wit, a flame of some thickness altogether stop
and intercept sound, or at least deaden it more
than the air. This can be seen in bonfires.
Also, to inquire concerning the medium of air
vehemently agitated. For, although wind carry
sound, yet I deem that any vehement wind doth
somewhat trouble sound, so as it shall be heard
less far, even with the wind, than in still weather,
of which let there be more inquiry made.
To see what sound brass or iron, red-hot, yields,
struck with a hammer, compared to that which
it gives cold.
Of the Penetration of Sounds.
The aetitps, or eagle stone, hath like a kernel
or yolk of tlie stone, which being shaken makes
a flat sound ; so a hawk's bell, [stopped,] but
a much clearer if there be a chink.
Let inquiry be made of divers, if they hear at
all under water, especially that is of any deep-
ness ; and let this be distinctly inquired, not only
whether they hear any sound at all from above,
which is made in tlie air, but also, whether they
hear the percussion of the body of the water
within the water, where no air is. I have made
this trial in a bath ; a pail of a good size with tho
mouth turned over was, in such wise, pressed
evenly down, as it carried the air fairly down
with it, in its hollow, below the water, to the
depth of a hand-breath ; and in this manner the
pail was held down with the hands, that it should
not overturn nor rise: then a diver put his head
within the pail, and did speak : his voice was
heard, speaking; and even his speech was arti-
culately distinguished, but wonderfully shrill,
and almost like a whistling, as the' voice useth
to be heard in a play of puppets.
Let it be exactly inquired, so as it be clearly
rendered positive whether sound can be generated,
except there be air betwixt the percussing and
the percussed body. As, if two pebbles banging
by a siring be let down into a basin of water, or
a river, and shaken, so as they shall strike to-
gether in the midst of the water; or let an open
pair of tongs be thrust down into the water, and
there knapped ; and let it be noted whether they
give a sound, and what. I do suppose that divers,
in swimming, make no noise under the water ;
unless there may perchance be some, by the suc-
cession of motion under the surface of the water,
and the water thence striking the air.
There is no doubt but in bladders tied, and not
quite full, and shaken, there is a sound given,
namely, of the liqnor contained in them, and no
less a sound is given on letting down a stone
into water, when it strikes the bottom of the ves-
sel. But in the former trial air is intermingled ;
in the second, the percussion of the bottom of
the vessel by the stone communicates with the
air without the vessel. But, after the first per-
cussion, it needeth not that there be air interme-
diate through the whole area of the sphere defe-
rent; for that is shown by the trial of one speaking
in a pail under the water, where part of the defe-
rent from the water is not air, but the wood of
the pail, and the water ; whence the sound is
sharpened, and minished, and lost.
But, because it is manifest that sound passes
through and penetrates hard bodies, (as potters'
earth and glass ;) and it is also most certain
(although hitherto concealed from men's obser-
vation) that there is, in every tangible body, some
pneurnatical part, besides the gross parts inter-
mixed, it is to be considered whether penetration
of sound of this kind come not thence, for that
the pneumatical or aerial parts of the tangible
body communicate with the outer air.
Take a vessel of silver, and another of wood,
full of water ; take a pair of iron tongs, and knap
them in the water in the vessels, at the distance
of a thumb's breadth, perhaps, or more, from the
OF SOUND AND HEARING.
630
bottom : you shall hear the sound of the tongs
knapped in the vessel of silver much more re-
sounding than in the wooden one. Whereas, if
the two vessels were ein])ty, and you knapped
the tongs at the same distance, there should be
little difference, or none. Whence it appears,
first, that where is no air that can be elided, but
only water, sound is given; next, that the sound
given by the percussion communicates better
with the vessel through water than tiirough air.
The mouth being close shut, there is made a
muruiur (such as dumb persons use to make) by
the throat; if the nostrils likewise be fast closed,
no murmur can be made. Whence it appears,
that that souud by the throat is not effected unless
throuirh the opening which lies between the
tiirodt and the nostrils.
Of the Carriage of Sounds, and their Direction or
Spreading ; and of the Jrea which Sound f/ls,
together and severally.
All sound is diffused in a sphere from the place
of the percussion, and fills the whole area of this
sphere to a certain limit, upwards, downwards,
sideways, and every wily.
Throughout this orb the sound is loudest close
to the stroke; thence, in the proportion of the
distance, it grows more faint, until it vanishes.
'i'lie limits of this sphere are extended some little
by reason of the quickness of hearing; yet is
there something uttermost, whither, to the most
delicate sense, sound reaches not.
There is something, I think, in the direction of
the first impulsion ; for, if a man should stand in
an open pulpit in the fields, and shout, the voice,
I judge, should be further heard forwards from the
speaker than behind. So, if ordnance, or a
harquebuss be discharged, I judge that the sound
shall be further heard before the ordnance or har-
quebuss than behind it.
Whether there be any thing in the ascension
of sound upwards, or in the descension of sound
downwards, which may further sound, or make
it cease nearer, doth not appear. The sound is
indeed well heard, if one speak from a high win-
dow or turret, by those who stand upon the
ground ; and, contrariwise, being uttered by those
that stand upon the ground from the window or
turret, but by whether more easily, or further off,
let better incjuiry be made.
Pulpits are used for speaking in assemblies,
and crenerals did usually speak standing upon
mounds of sods ; yet is it is no wise hence con-
firuied that sound easilier descends than it rises,
since the cause hereof may be the liberty of the
air in the higher place, not thronged or hindered,
as below amongst the crowd, but not the readier
motion downwards. Therefore, let not the con-
templation stay in this instance, but iei a trial be
made where other things are equal.
The power of the sound is received whole in
ev«ry part of the air, not the whole in the whole
air, unless where the opening or passage is ex-
ceedingly strait. For if one stand in any place
utterly closed, so as the sound may not penetrate
at all, and that in any part soever of a sphere of
sound, and there be a small opening made, the
articulate voice shall enter through that opening,
and in fine through as many openings as you
shall choose to make through the whole round of
the sphere of sound : so as it is man'Cest that that
whole articulation of sound is conveyed entire in
these minutest parts of the air, not less than if
the air were at large on every side.
It is, however, to be observed whether sounds
proceeding from the greater pulsations of the air
(such as are made by the discharge of ordnance)
become not more exile when they enter by those
small apertures; for it may be that tlie subtilties
of sound shall enter unconfused, but the whole
crash, or roar, not so well.
The rays of visible bodies do not strike the
sense, unless they be conveyed through the me-
dium in straight lines, and the interposition of
any opaque, in a right hne, intercepts the sight,
although every thing else be on all sides wholly
open. But sound, if there be a dilatation or pas-
sage, whether by arching over, or by inverted
arching downwards, or laterally, or even by wind-
ing, perishes not, but arrives. Nevertheless, I
judge that sound is more strongly carried in
straight lines, betwixt the pulsations and the ear,
and that by its archings and windings it is some-
what broken; as, if there be a wall betwixt the
speaker and the hearer, I think that the voice shall
not be so well heard as if the wall were away.
I judge, too, that if the speaker or the hearer be
placed at a little distance from the wall, the voice
shall be better heard than nigh unto the wall, be-
cause the arching so much the less departs from
a right line. But this also would be further in-
quired.
If the ear be laid to the one end of any tube or
long hollow trunk, and a voice speak softly at the
other opening of the tube, such a voice shall be
heard, which, being as softly spoken in the air at
large, should not arrive, nor be heard. Whence
it is clear, that that confining of the air helps to
the conveying of the voice, without confusion.
It is also a common opinion, that, other things
being equal, the voice is better heard within doors
than abroad ; but whether the voice be better
heard when the ear is out of doors, and the voice
within the house; or contrariwise, when the voice
is out of doors, and the ear within the house, may
be further inquired ; albeit herein also the opinion
is received, that what is abroad is better heard
within doors, than what is within, abroad.
It is common to hearing and siglit, and, indeed,
in a certain measure, to the other senses, that thb
attention of the perceiving mind, and express di
rection to perceiving, help somewhat to perceiv-
540
OF SOUND AND HEARING.
ing, as when one looks steadfastly, or (as they
say) pricks his ears.
Sounds are not carried so far, articulate and
distinct, as their species, and a confused coil of
them ; for the h\im of voices can be heard where
the articulate words themselves are not heard ;
and a confused tinkling of music, when the har-
mony itself or tune is not heard.
Sound is preserved, at the best, in a hollow
trunk. Therefore let there be taken a hollow
trunk of a good length, and let it be put out from
the window of a lower chamber ; let one speak
by thrusting of his head out of the window, at
one end of the trunk, as softly as ever he may :
let another lay his ear to the other end of the
trunk, standing below upon the ground: let this
be done in like wise reversely, by speaking from
below, and laying to of the ear above, and from
this trial let a judgment be made, whether the
voice ascend or descend more easily, or even
alike. They deliver for certain, that there be
some places and buildings so vaulted, that if one
stand in a certain part of the chamber, and speak,
he can be better heard at some distance than near.
All harmony appeareth to sound somewhat
fuller and deeper at a little remoteness from the
place of the sound than near; so as something
should seem to happen to hearing about sound,
like as happeneth to sight about visible species,
that some removal from the organ of the sense
furthereth the perception of the sense. But in
that opinion may be twofold error. First, because
in the act of sight there be, perhaps, beams re-
quired from the object to the pupil, which there
cannot be where the object toucheth the pupil,
which between the hearing and the sound is not
required. But much rather, because to seeing is
light needed. But an object touching the pupil
intercepts the light; whereas nothing of this kind
befalls to hearing. And, in the second place, be-
cause to sight there needeth not always a medium;
forasmuch as, in the removing of cataracts of the
eyes, the little silver needle wherewith the cata-
racts are removed, even when it movelh upon the
pupil within the coat of the eye, is excellently
seen.
In objects of sight, if the eye be placed in the
dark, and the object in the light, it shall do well ;
but if the object be placed in the dark, and the
eye in the-light, you shall not see. So, if a thin
veil or net-work be cast over the eyes, the object
is well seen ; if upon the object, it confounds
sight. And albeit, that perhaps neither of these
agreeth to sound and hearing, yet may they ad-
vertise us that trials be made, whether the ear
pet against the hollow trunk, if the sound be
made at a distance in the air at large, or con-
versely, the sound be produced at the hollow
trunk, the ear being placed at a distance in the
Air at large, favour more the perception of the
eeuse.
Of the Variely of the Bodies which yield Sound}
and the Instruments ; and of the Species of
Sounds which occur.
The kinds of sounds appear to receive such a
division: loud, soft, sharp or treble, base; musi-
cal, unmusical ; interior or whispering, exterior
or sounding; simple, compounded, original, re-
flected ; so as they are divisions six.
The stronger the first pulsation shall be, and
the dilatation the more free, and without let, the
greater is the sound given : the weaker the per-
cussion, and more disturbed the dilatation, the less.
Treble sounds are carried as far, and perchance
farther than base. Let this be better inquired.
Accordingly as the concave of a bell shall be
greater, it giveth a baser sound; the less, the
more treble.
The bigger a string, the baser sound it shall
yield ; the less, the more treble.
A string, the more tightly strained, the more
treble sound shall it yield ; the looser, the baser :
so as a little bigger string more tightly strained,
and a less more slackly, shall give the same note.
In trumpets, in like wise, in flutes, horns, and
recorders, pipes, also in the mouth of a man
whistling, the more narrow and straight they
are, they give the more treble sound; the wider,
or more open, the baser.
In flutes, the air, issuing by a hole nearer the
breath, yields a more treble sound; by one more
distant, a baser: so a little bigger flute by the
nearer hole, and a smaller by the more removed,
may give the same note.
In some stringed instruments (as in the viol,
citterns, and the like) men have found a skill for
the straining of the strings, beyond the first
straining, so as compressing them with the fin-
gers lower down or higher up, they strain them
to the alteration of the note.
If adrinking-cupof glass or silver be taken and
fillipped, if the water stand higher in the cup, and
the cup be fuller, it will give a more treble sound ;
if lower, and the cup be more empty, a baser.
In a hollow pipe, such as they use for shoot-
ing of birds, if one whistle with the mouth,
setting the mouth to one end of the tube, the
sound is dulled, truly, to the bystander; but if
the ear be laid to the other end, it gives a most
sharp sound, so as it shall hardly be borne.
Let there be a trial made with a trunk, in the
part where the ear is laid, narrow, in the part
where the mouth is set, wider, and conversely ;
whether the sound be rendered more treble or
baser, after the manner of mirrors, which contract
or enlarge the objects of sight.
Of the Multiptication, Majoraticn, Diminution,
and Fraction of Sound.
It would be seen in what, how, way, manner,
sound can be artificially magnified and multiplied.
OF SOUND AND HEARING.
5(1
Mirrors do effect both in sight. Now, the sud-
den reflection of sound seems to turn to augmen-
tation; for if the voice and echo be yielded
togetlier, need is that the sound be not distin-
guisiied, but magnified. Therefore, sounds upon
rivers are greater, the water resounding and
blending itself with the original sound.
I have also noted that when a round-house is
made in water-conduits, then a long vault, and
then a greater chamber, (sucjj as is to be seen in
the fields by Charing Cross near London,) if you
cry at the window or slit of the round-house, and
one stand by the window of the greater chamber,
a far more fearful roaring is heard than by one
standing where the cry is made.
I bethink me that in the play of puppets, the
speaking is such as it is heard distinctly, but far
sharper and more exile than in the air at large ; as
happens in mirrors that render letters far smaller
than they are in the ordinary medium : so as
sound appears plainly possible by art to be both
amplified and rendered more exile.
Children hold the horn of a bent bow betwixt
their teeth, and with an arrow strike the string,
whence is produced a more resounding sound, and
a far greater boom, than if the bow were not held
in the teeth ; which they ascribe to the consent
which the bones of the teeth have with the bone
of hearing; since, conversely also, by a certain
harsh sound in the hearing, the teeth too be set
on edge.
In like manner, let a lance touch the wood of
the belly of an harp, especially of the hole in it
at the hollow end, and be held with the teeth at
the other end, and the harp struck ; the sound is
made greater by taking hold with the teeth, that
is to say, to him that so takelh hold.
It is most assured (however unnoted) that the
force, which after the first percussion carries on
balls, or arrows, or darts, and the like, is situated
in the minute parts of the body discharged, and
not in the air continually carrying it, like a boat
in the water. This being premised, it may be
considered whether sound might not be lessened
in ordnance or a harquebuss, without much
weakening of the percussion, in this manner.
Let there be a harquebuss made with a barrel of
a pretty strength, so as it break not easily ; in
the barrel lei there be four or five holes made, not
like chinks, but round, about the middle of the
barrel. The percussion hath already gotten its
force, excepting so far as by reason of the length
of the barrel it may be increased ; but the percus-
sion of the air at the mouth of the harquebuss,
which generates the sound, will be much at-
tenuated by the emission of sound through those
holes in the middle of the barrel, before that the
air enclosed arrive at the mouth of the harque-
buss. Therefore it is probable that the sound and
boom shall by many parts be diminished.
Of (he RepercuMton nf Sounds and Echo.
The repercussion of sounds (which we call
echo) can be taken for an argument that sound
is not a local motion of the air; for if it were, the
repercussion should be made in manner conforma-
ble to the original, as happens in all corporeal
repercussions. But in sound, wherein such an
exact generation is required, as in the voice,
which hath so many organs, and in musical in-
struments, which be curiously framed, the things
which yield the repercussed sound have nothing
such, but are merely rude, having almost nothing
save this, that sound passes not through them.
Of the Consents and Dissents nf Judi'bles and
Visibles, and of other so called Spiritual Species.
TTiey agree in these .•
Both are diffused in a spherical compass or orb,
and fill the whole area of that sphere, and are
carried to very distant spaces, and wax faint by
degrees, according to the distance of the object,
then vanish. Both carry their figurations and
differences into minute portions of their orb, en-
tire and unconfused, so as they are perceived
through small crannies no otherwise than in an
open place.
Both are of exceedingly sudden and swift
generation and dilatation, and conversely they are
extinguished, and perish suddenly and quickly.
Both take and convey minute and exquisite
differences, as of colours, figures, motions, dis-
tances, in visibles ; of articulate voices, of musical
tones, and of their swift changes and trepidation,
in audibles.
Both, in their virtue and force, appear neither
to emit any corporeal substance into their me-
diums or their orb, nor even to give forth or pro-
voke a local perceptible motion in their mediums,
but to convey certain spiritual species, of which
the nature and manner is unknown.
Both appear to be not generative of any other
virtue or quality besides their proper virtue, and so
far to work, being else barren.
Both in their proper action appear, as if corpo-
really, to work three things. The first, that the
stronger object drowns and confounds the weaker;
as the light of the sun, the light of a candle, the
report of ordnance, the voice. The second, that
the more excellent object destroys the weaker
sense; as the light of the sun, the eye, a violent
sound close at the ear, the hearing. The third, that
both are repercussed, as in mirrors and the echo.
Neither doth the object of the one confound or
hinder the object of the other; as light or t' our,
sound, or contrariwise.
Both affect the sense in animals, and that by
objects in greater or less degrees grateful oi
odious : but they affect also after their own marj
2Z
642
OF SOUND AND HEARING.
ner inanimates proportionate, and havinnr (as
seemeth) a conformity witii tlie organs of the
senses; as colours, a mirror, that is crystalline
like the eye ; sounds, the places of reverberation,
which seem, likewise, to resemble the bone and
cavern of the ear.
Both work diversely, accordingly as they have
their mediums well or ill disposed.
To both the medium the most conducible and
propitious is the air. In both the stretching of
the sense, and, as it were, its erection to perceiv-
ing, availeth somewhat in more nice objects.
They differ in these ;
The species of visibles appear to be as if emis-
sions of beams from the visible body, almost like
odours. But the species of audibles appear more
to partake of a local motion, like the percussions
■which are made in the air: that whereas bodies
for the most part work in two manners, by com-
munication of their nature, or by an impression or
signature of their motion, that diflusion in visibles
appearelh more to partake of the former manner;
in audibles, of the latter.
The dilatation of sounds appears to be more evi-
dently carried by the air than of visibles. For I
judge that a vehement wind shall not so much
hinder any visible afar off, as a sound ; I under-
stand the wind blowing contrary.
It is a notable difference, whence also many
less differences flow, that visibles (original light
excepted) are not carried but by right lines,
whilst sounds are carried by arcuate lines.
Hence it happens, that visibles confound not
one another, that are represented together : sounds
contrarily. Hence it happens, that the solidity
of the substance seems not greatly to hinder sight,
provided only the positions of the parts of the
body be after a simple order and with straight
passages, as in glass, water, crystal, diamond ;
but a little silk or linen cloth breaks the sight,
though they be bodies very thin and porous; but
cloths of this kind little or nothing hinder hearing,
which those solids do exceedingly. Hence it
happens, that unto the reverberation of visibles a
small mirror suffices, or like transpicuous body,
let it be only placed in a right line, where the
visibles pass ; but unto making of the reverbera-
tion of echo, it needeth also to confine the sound
from the side, because it is carried to all sides.
'J'he visible object is further carried, in proportion,
than sound.
Visibles, too nearly approached to the eye, are
not so well seen as at some little distance, so as the
beams may meet in a more acute angle ; but in
hearing, the nearer the better. But herein there
may be twofold error. The first, because to see-
ing there is required light; but if the object be
brought very near to the eye, this is shut out.
For T have heard of one trustworthy, which was
cured of cataracts of the eyes, when the little sil-
ver needle moved over the very pupil of his eye,
and did touch it, he, without any medium, (that
silver needle being far narrower than the pupil
itself of tlie eye,) saw perfectly the needle. The
second, that the cave of the ear is distinctly inter-
posed before the organ of hearing, so as, being
without, the sound is altogether unable to touch
the bone and membrane of hearing.
The species of si^ht are more swiftly conveyed
than sounds, as appeareth in the flash and report
of guns; also in lightning and thunder, where
the thunder is heard after a while.
I conceive also that the species of sound do
hang longer in the air than visibles. F'or, although
neither do these perish on the instant, as we see
in a ring spinning, and lute-strings fillipped, and
in twilight and the like; yet 1 deem that sounds,
for that they are carried by the wind, stay
longer.
The beams of light being gathered, induce heat
also, which is an action diverse from the visible
quality. In like manner, if it be true that shouts
have cast down birds flying over, that is also an
action exceedingly diverse from the audible
quality.
There seemeth not in visibles to be found an
object as odious, and noisome to the sense, as in
audibles; but they affect it more evenly; for
things foul to sight rather offend by moving of the
fancy concerning foul things than of themselves ;
but in audibles the grating of a saw that is sharp-
ened, and other like sounds, cause a horror; and
a discordant note in music is straightways re-
fused and loathed.
It is not assured, that there is refraction in
sounds, as in beams. But, doubtless, sounds do
rebound : but that is to be ascribed to reflection.
For, I do not think, if sounds pass through
diverse mediums, as air, cloth, wood, that there
be one place of the sound, where it is carried, an-
other where it is heard, which is the property of
refraction; but refraction seems to depend upon
action, in right lines, which pertains not to sound.
But contraction of sound, and its dilatation, ac-
cordinff to the disposition of the medium, happens,
undoubtedly, as in the speaking of puppets, and
under water: the sound is contracted within that
cell, which abroad is dispersed ; as by mirrors
visibles are dilated and contracted.
A tremulous medium (as smoke in visibles)
makes the visible objects also to tremble; but in
sounds nothing such is yet found, unless, per-
chance, the rise and fall by winds. For the
trembling in the nightingale-pipe is trembling of
the percussion, not of the medium.
Going from great light into the dark, or out of
the dark into the litrht, the sight is some little
confused ; but whether the like be after very loud
noises, or a great silence, would be inquired.
OF SOUND AND FIEARING.
54a
Of the Quickness nf the Generation and Extincfion
cf jSound, and the lime in which they are effected.
All sound is excpedinir quickly generated, and j
quickly perishes. But the swiftness of its rtio-
tion and of its diiTerences, appears a thinpf not so
wouderful. F'or the motion of the fingrers upon a
lute, or of the breath in the pipe or flute, are found
to be exceedingly swifi: and the tongue itself
(no very exquisite organ) goes through as many
motions as letters ; hut that sounds should not
only be so speedily generated but thai they should
also, by their momentary force and impression, as
it were, suddenly fill so great space, is matter
worthy of the highest admiration. For instance,
a man in the middle of a field, speaking aloud, is
heard for a quarter of a mile, in a round, and that
in articulate words, and these hanging in every
little portion of the air, and all in a space of time
far less, perhaps, than a minute.
To inquire of the space of time in which sound
is conveyed. It can be found thus. Let a man
stand in a steeple by night; let another stand in
the field, a mile off, perhaps, or as far as the bell
can be heard, and let him have ready a torch
lighted, but covered. Then let him in the steeple
strike the bell : then let the other, who stands in
the plain, as soon as he hears it, lift the torch : in
this way, by the space of time between the strik-
ing of the bell and the seeing of the torch, shall
he that stands in the steeple discover the time of
the motion of the sound.
In guns, the flame is seen sooner than the re-
port is heard, although the flame follow the dis-
charging of the ball ; so as the flash issues later,
but sooner strikes the sense. Whence it is rightly
gathered, that the beams visible are more speedily
diffused, and arrive, than the species or impres-
sions of sound.
Of the Jiffnity, or Non-affinity,, which Sound
hath with the Motion, local and perceptible, of the
Mr in which it is carried.
Sound doth not appear manifestly and actually
to shake and trouble the air, as doth wind ; but
the motions of sound appear to be effected by
spiritual species; for thus we must speak, until
something more assured shall be found.
So as I conceive that a very loud sound of one
shouting, at a little distance from the very motion
of the breath, shall scarcely stir any trembling
aspen leaf, or straw, or flame.
But in greater pulsations there is found a very
bodily and actual motion of the air; but whether
that proceed from the motion itself which gene-
rates sound, or from a collateral cause, or some
concomitants, appeareth not. Thunder-claps
sometimes make glass windows to tremble, and
even walls: I think, also, that ordnance let off,
or explosions of mines, do the same.
And I remember, if I mistake not, that there
is, at King's College, in Cambridge, a certain
wooden building, in which there hang beils, and
that when the bells ring, it is shaken. But
whatsoever that hidden motion be, which is
sound, it appears that neither is it engendered
without perceptible motion in the first pulsation,
and that again by the perceptible motion of thft
air it is carried or hindered.
A word quietly uttered, which at a distance
perhaps of thirty feet can be heara, will yet hardly
stir the flame of a candle, that is held with'n a
foot of the mouth ; whilst blowing a little strongly
with the mouth, shall make the flame to waver,
at a much greater distance.
The sound of bells, and the like, comes louder,
and goes off more dully, as the wind blows to-
wards the ear, or against the sound. The same
happens in a shout, which being uttered against
the wind, is not heard so far.
It is delivered, that through vast shouts of
numbers applauding and cries of rejoicing, the air
has been so broken or rarefied, that birds flying
over have fallen down. There runs an opinion
that the noise of many bells ringing in populous
cities is good against thunder and pestilence.
Some places and buildings are certainly reported
to be so vaulted, that if one speak in them, and
(as the report hath it) against the wall, in one
part of the building, his words shall be better
heard at some distance from the voice than close
at hand.
I have observed, sitting in a coach with one
side of the boot down, and the other up, that a
beggar crying on the c' 3sed side of the coach hath
seemed to cry on the open side; so as the voice
was plainly repercussed, and went round, or at
the least, whilst it sounded on all sides, it seemed
to be heard on that side, on which it did best reach
the sense.
If a candle be held to the wind-hole of a drum,
and the drum be heat, the flame is shaken and
extinguished. The same happens in winding of a
hunter's horn, if the candle be brought near the
month of the horn, &c.
Even the exquisite differences which sound
takes, and carries them with it, show that these
delicate affections are not continued local motions.
For seals, in a matter fitly prepared, make exqui-
site impressions ; so as in the generation of sound
this same, perhaps, might happen. But the dila-
tation and continuance sort not, especially in
liquids : but those exquisite differences we under
stand of artic'ilate voices and musical tones.
But of this matter altogether (^videlicet, what
relation and correspondency sound has to the
local motion of the air) let inquiry be more dili-
gently made; not by the wzy. whether? (which
sort of question in matters of this kind has ruined
all,) but by the way, how far? and that not by
arguments discursive, but by opposite experimenta
and crucial instances.
544
OF SOUND AND HEAUING.
9f the Commuuicatton of the dir percussed and
elided with the ambient Mir, and Bodies, or
their Spirits.
In the striking of a bell, the sound given by
chiir.ing upon the bell with a hammer on the out-
fiide, and by the tongue within, is of the same
tone. So that the sound yielded by the chiming
upon the outside, cannot be generated by the col-
lision of the air between the hammer and the
outside of the bell, since it is according to the
concave of the bell within. And if it were a flat
plate of brass, and not concave, the sound should,
I think, be different.
If there be a rift in the bell, it gives a hoarse
sound, not pleasant or grateful.
It would be known how the thickness of the
percussed body may affect the sound, and how
far forth : as if, of the same concave, one bell
should be thicker, another thinner. I have proved
in a bell of gold, that it gave an excellent sound,
nothing worse, yea, better, than a bell of silver or
of brass. But money of gold rings not so well as
money of silver.
Empty casks yield a deep and resounding
sound, full ones a dull and dead sound. But in
the viol, and the lute, and other such, although
the first percussion be between the string and the
exterior air, yet that air straight communicates
with the air in the belly, or concave of the viol
or lute. Wherefore, in instruments of this kind is
ever some perforation made, that the outward air
may communicate with the confined air, without
which, the sound would be dull and dead.
Let there be a trial made of the nightingale-
pipe, that it be filled with oil, and not with water;
and let it be noted, how much softer or more
obtuse the sound shall be.
When sound is created between the breath and
the percussed air, as in a pipe, or flute, it is yet
80 produced, as it hath some communication with
the body of the flute, or pipe. F'or there is one
sound produced in a trumpet of wood, another in
one of brass; another, I judge, if the trumpet
were lined within, or perhaps even covered, on
the outside, with silk or cloth : one perchance if
the trumpet were wet, another if dry. I con-
ceive, likewise, in virginals, or the viol, if the
board upon which the strings are strained were
of brass, or of silver, it should yield a somewhat
different sound. But of all these things let there
be better inquiry.
Further, in respect of the communication, it
would be inquired, what the diversity and ine-
quality of bodies may do; as if three bells should
be made to hang, the one within the other, with
some space of air interposed, and the outer bell
were chimed upon with a hammer, what sound it
should give, in respect of a single bell.
Let a bell be covered on the outside with cloth
or silk, and let it be noted, when the bell is
struck by the tongue within, what that covering
shall do to the sound.
If there were in a viol a plate of brass, or of
silver, pierced with holes, in place of that of
wood, it would be seen what this shall do to the
sound.
There are used in Denmark, and are even
brought hither, drums of brass, not of wood, less
than those of wood, and they give, I think, a
louder sound.
The agitation of the air by great winds shall
not, I think, yield much sound, if woods, waves,
buildings, or the like be away ; yet is it received
that, before tempests, Uiere be some rnurmurings
made in woods, albeit to the sense the blast be
not yet perceived, nor do the leaves stir.*
♦ Three chapters are deficient, which there wanted laV
sure to conipleting.
\
GENERAL INDEX.
AHnrcTiox of women made a capital olTencc, i. 333.
Abel and Cain, contemplation of action figured in,
i. 175,
Aluinclech, ii. 270.
Abjuration and exiles, cases of and proceedings therein,
ii. 165.
Abner, murder of by Jacob, not forgotten, ii. 322.
Absolution, ii. 426.
Abridgments of laws, opinion on the use of them,
ii. 233.
Abuse of excommunication, ii. 428.
Abuses in the penal laws, ii. 237.
Acceleration and clarification of liquors, ii. 47.
Accessaries to duels before the fact, ii. 299.
Accident assistance to elo(juence, ii. 337.
Account, matters of, ii. 482.
Achaians. comparison of the state of to a tortoise, by
Titus Quintius, ii. 224.
Achel.>us, or battle, i. 302.
Actffion and Penlheus, or a curious man, i. 294.
Action, the chief part of an orator, i. 23.
Action and coiitcrn|)lation, union between, i. 173, 174 ;
figured in Abel and Cain, i. 175; and contempla-
tion, i. 220.
Actions, all men drawn into by pleasure, honour, and
profit, ii. 18.5.
Active, force of quantity in the, ii. 460.
Actium, battle of, decided the empire of the world,
i. 38.
.Actor, Vibulenus, his artifice, i. 218.
Adam's employment in Paradise, i. 175.
Adam, fall of, set forth by the fable of Pan, i. 290.
Adamites, heresy of, ii. 443.
Adjournment should be to a day certain, ii. 495.
Admiralty, against the, ii. 495.
Admiralties and merchandising several, one of the
internal points of separation with Scotland, ii. 160.
Admonished how to dispose of part of his riches, ii.
487; to imitate the Spaniards, the beaver, iScc, ii.
487.
Adoration the highest honour amongst the heathens,
i. 177.
Adrian, a learned prince, i. 178.
Adrian de ("astcllo, the pope's legate, made Bishop of
Hi icford, i. 335 ; his conspiracy against Leo from a
prediction of an astrologer, i. 335.
Adrian VI., advice to him respecting Pasquil, i. 109.
Adrian, the bounty of his disposition, ii. 234.
.Adriiiii, the philosopher's answer who contended with
with him, i. 116.
Advancement in life. i. 231 ; of learning, notice of,
i. 2U2 ; of learning. Bacon's observations on, ii.
435.
Adversity, strength of, ii. 488; Essay of, i. 14.
Advertisement touching holy war, ii. 436; touching
church controversies, ii. 411.
Vol. in.— 69
Advice upon importing foreign g.iods, ii. 386 ; to
ministers, ii. 376 ; concerning Indian wealth, ii. 38?
Adulteration of metals, ii. 459.
Advocates, i. 58.
i£neas Sylvius, his saying of the Christian religion,
i. 121.
..Esculapius and Circe, exposition of, credulity by fable
of, i. 203.
.^sop's fable of the two sons digging for gold, i. 172.
Afl'ections, effect u|ion the minds and spirits of men,
ii. 129; their impediments to knowledge, i. 94:
inquiry touching, i. 225,
Affectation. IS'o affectation in passion, i. 45 ; to use
studies too much for ornament is affectation, i. 55.
.Affidavits before masters of chancery, ii. 483.
Affluence. Greatness too often ascribed to affluence
of commodities, ii. 222.
Agathocles, conduct to the captive Syracusans, i. 1 14.
Age and youth prejudiced, vii. 41.
Age will not be defied, i. 39; essay on youth and, i.
48 ; heat in age excellent for business, i. 48 ; Alon-
zo of Arragon's commendation of age, i. 113.
Agesilaus, excellent though deformed, i. 49 ; saying of
his. i. 115; called home from Persia upon a war
against Sparta by Athens and Thebes, ii. 223 ; bis
saying thereon, ii. 223.
Agricultural experiments, ii. 404.
Agrippina, preference of em[)ire, i. 183.
Acues, what wines best for, ii. 10; use of hartshorn
1n, ii. 91.
Air, transmutation of into water, ii. 10, 19; diversity
of infusions in, ii. 9; in watc, cause of quick as-
cent of, ii. 10; condensation of by cold, ii. 11,
aptness to corrupt, ii. 109; commixture of with
flame, ii. 11; effect of the iiispissation of the, ii.
127; touching the nature of, ii. 119; flying of
unequal bodies in the. ii. 107 ; experiment touching
the congealing of, ii. 54; the theory of Anaximenes
i. 430.
.\ir and water, experiments as to weight in, ii. 463.
Air and sound, ii. 28.
Airs, experiment touching, ii. 249.
.Albans, to the Lord St., from Buckingham, promising
to move his majesty to take off the restraint upon
his not coming within the verge of the court, iii.
185.
.Albans, the Lord St., to a friend, believing his own
danger less than he found it, iii. 190.
Albans, the Lord St., to the same humble servant, em-
ployiiig him to do a good ofllke with a irreat man
iii. 190.
Albans, from liord St., praying that the king will let
him die out of a cloud and sutfer his honours to be
transmitted, iii. 188.
Albans, from Lord St., to the king, thanking him for
bis liberty, iii. 184.
2 z 2 645
546
INDPLX.
Albans, from Lord Sl„ to the king, praying for a con-
tinuance of tlie king's kimini-ss, iii. 81.
Alhans, Lord St., to a most dear friend, in whom he
notes an entireness and impatient attention to do
him service, iii. 19.
Albans, Lord St., to the Lord Treasurer Marlborouc[h,
expostulating about his unkindness and injustice,
iii. 191.
Albans, to the Lord St., from Buckingham, promising
to sui>ply his liecayed cables, iii. 187.
Albans, to the Lord St., from Buckingham, touching
his book, iii. 187.
Albans, to the Lord St., from Buckingham, thanking
him for a parabien, iii. 188.
Albans, to the Lord St., from Buckingham, touching
his application to the king, iii. 188.
Albans, to the Lord St.. from the Bishop of Lincoln,
upon the orations of Cicero, Demosthenes, and the
works of his lordship, iii. 188.
Albans, to the Lord St., from the Marquis of Bucking-
ham, expressing the king's willingness to see his
book, but refusing to let him remain in London, iii.
184.
.Mbans, to the Lord St., from Buckingham, iii. IS.'i.
Albans, to the Lord St., from Buckingham, concerning
York House, iii. 18,'j.
Albert Durer, his mode of painting, i. 49.
Alchymists follow wrong principles to make gold, ii.
49; their philosophy, or the Grecians', all now re-
ceived, i. 79 ; means used by, more monstrous than
the end, i. 199 ; errors of in forming science, i.
173.
Alchymy, white and red, ii. 459 ; advantages of to
science, i. 172.
Alcibiades, of high spirit, yet beautiful, i. 49 ; advice
to Pericles, studying how to give in his accounts,
i. 109.
Alcohol, a powder made of, ii. 99.
Alexander, body of, found, ii. 104; Livy's saying of
him, i. 84 ; his conquest of Persia, ii. 223 ; Livy's
judgment of him, ii. 223 ; his opinion of the cause
of Calisthenes' eloquence in his speeches on the
Macedonians, ii. 229, 235 ; melancholy in his lat-
ter years, i. 27; his conduct at Arbcla, i. 36; not
just to deny credit to his acts, i. 99 ; his saying of
Craierus and Hephacstion, i. 113; saying of Anti-
pater, i. 113; his answer to Parmenio, i. 114, 117;
cleanliness of, ii. 8 ; an instance of excellence in
arms and learning, i. 164; his admiration of Ho-
mer, i. 179 ; education of, i. 179 ; preferred learning
to empire, i. 179; his observation relating to Dio-
genes, i. 179; his wit in speeches, i. 179; Cassan-
der's subtle answer to, i. 179; his distinction be-
tween love of him and love of the king, i. 180;
answer to Parmenio's counsel, i. 180; an instance
of the conjunction between learning and military
power, i. 179.
Alien enemy, law respecting, ii. 169.
Alien friend, may have movable goods and personal
actions, but not freehold, or leasehold, or actions
real or mixed, ii. 169.
Alienations, office of compositions for, iii. 319.
.Miment of man, i. 202.
\liments, change of ii. 18.
Allegiance, cannot be a[)plicd to the law or kingdom,
but to the per.^on of the king, ii. 176 ; must be un-
conditional, ii. 391.
Alliance with Holland, ii. 383.
Almonds, oil of, mixed with spirits of wine, ii. 465.
Alonzo of Arragon, saying about books, i. 113.
Alphabet of Nature, rule and form of, iii. 531.
Alphonso the Wise corn[)ilcd the digest of the laws
of Spain, ii. 23.5.
Alteration of religion by Elizabeth, ii. 44.5.
Alterations which may be c.illed majors, ii. 114.
Altham, Baron, reverend judge, ii. 477.
Alva. Duke of, general arrest made by him of Eng-
lishmen, ii. 260; a chief instrument in the rebellion
in the north of England, ii. 260.
Amalgamatizing metals, ii. 461, 462.
Ainnzons, ii. 442.
Ambassadors, how to choose, ii. 382.
Amber, flies get a durable sepulchre in, ii. 24.
Ambition, essay on, i. 44; of man, God's first judg-
ment on the, i. 175.
Amiens, Spaniards beaten out of, ii. 200, 213.
Anabaptists, ii. 442 ; revived the opinion of Henkus,
i. 220; religion of, ii. 314.
Anacharsis, saying of his. i. 120.
Analysis. See Notes by the Editor, i. 244 — 254.
Anatomy, much deficient, i. 204.
Anaxagoras, his precept concerning truth, i. 82 ; his
remark upon the Athenians who had condemned
him to death, i. 116.
Ancient history only fragments, i. 189.
Ancient philosophers, their theories concerning primi-
tive matter, i. 437.
Ancients, inventors consecrated by the, i. 207 ; ho-
nours of the, to eminent men, i. 177; consecrated
inventors of arts amongst the gods, i. 177; hoped
to prolong life by medicine, i. 307 ; wisdom of the,
i. 287 — 313 ; took up experiments on credit, ii. 13.
Andrada, Manuel, a Portuguese, revolted from Don
Antonio to the King of Spain, ii. 217; advertises
Mcndr)za that he had won Dr. Lopez to the King of
Sp;nn's service, ii. 218 ; Lopez's secret conference
with him, ii. 218; got out of prison by Lopez, ii.
218; brings Lopez a jewel from the King of Spain,
ii. 218; moves liopez to poison Queen Elizabeth,
ii. 218 ; goes to Calais and writes to the Count de
Fuenfes, ii. 218.
Andrews, Bishop, ii. 435.
Angels, worship of, i. 195.
Anger, essay on, i. 59 ; causes of, i. 59 ; makes dull
men witty, but keeps them poor, i. 124 ; effects of,
ii. 96.
Animate bodies and plants, difference between, ii. 81.
Annals and journals, their use, i. 191.
Annihilation, impossibility of, ii. 24.
Anointing, experiment touching, ii. 99.
Answers, if insufficient, defendant to pay costs, ii. 483 ;
to bills in chancery, ii. 483.
Ant, its character, i. 208.
Antalcidas, his answer to an Athenian, i. 116.
Antarctic hemisphere, dusky spots in, what are causes
of, ii. 585.
Ante-nati and post-nati of Scotland, ii. 144, 154, 159,
160.
Anticipations of the second philosophy, iii. 521.
Antigonus, answer and saying of, i. 114, 117.
Anti-masques, their composition, i. 45.
Antimony, as to dissDlving. ii. 460.
Antinomias, contrary cases to be noted in reducing the
common law, ii. 232.
Antiochia, wholesome air of, ii. 128.
Antiochus, his incitement to Prusias to war against
the Romans, ii. 204.
Antipathy and sympathy of men's spirits, ii. 137; se
cret virtue of, ii. 132, 137 ; of things, iii. 465.
Antiquity, overweening affection for, i. 172; lika
Fame," head muffled, i. 189; law of, ii. 421 ; the
uttermost is like fame, that muffles her head anc
INDEX.
M7
tcllfl taipa, i. 84 ; admiration of an impediment to
kiiowled(?e, i. 94 ; kni)wlc(lce not to be sought in
the oliscurity of, but in the light of nature, ii. 547.
Aiitipaler, of all Alexander'H lieutenants, wore no pur-
ple, i. 113; his sayiiiirx of DemacIeK, i. 114;
Antisihenes' opinion what was most necessary, i. 120.
Aiilitheta, examples of, i. 217.
Antoninus Pius, a learn«'d prince, i. 178.
Antonio, King, mortal enemy to the KiTig of Spain,
ii. 217 ; his retinue, therefore, free from all suspicion
of conspiracy against Queen Elizabeth, ii. 217; yet
8us[)eited by w)tne of her majesty's counsel, ii. 217.
Antonio, Don, enter)irise to settle him in tlie kingdom
of Portugal failed, ii. 210.
Antonius, Marcus, transported by love, i. 18.
Antonius' mind weakened by the Egyptian soothsayer,
ii. 12'J.
Ants, instinct of, ii. 9.3.
Antwerp, English merchants spoiled and put to their
ransom at the sack of, ii. 260.
Anytus' accusation against Socrates, i. 164.
Apelles, his mode of painting, i. 49.
Ape's heart, what good for, ii. 1,')4.
Aphorisms, iii. 427 ; the way of delivering ancient
wisdom, iii. 222 ; the pith of sciences, i. 214 ; know-
ledge when in, is in growth, i. 173.
ApoUotiius's judgment of Nero, ii. 277 ; reason for
Nero's overthrow, delight in solitude, i. 34.
Apollonius of Tyana, ii. 124.
Apophthegms, i. 107 ; account of, i. 9 ; loss of Caesar's,
i. 192.
Apothecaries, how they clarify syrups, ii. 8.
Apology for the Earl of Essex, ii. 333.
Apparel, vanity in should be avoided, ii. 386.
Appendices to knowledge of the soul, i. 206 ; division
of, divination, fascination, i. 206 ; of history, i.
192.
Appetite, or will of man, i. 218.
Appius Claudius transported by love, i. 18.
Arbela, the number of the Persians at, i. 36.
Archidamus's answer to Philip of Macedon, i. 118.
Arch-traitor Tyrone, the, ii. 349.
Archetype, the dignity of knowledge is to be sought in
the, i. 174.
.Arder., Spaniards beaten out of, ii. 200, 213,
Arguments in law, iii. 267.
Aristippus, answers of his, i. 113, 117, 118, 121;
answer as to the morigeration of learned men, i.
169.
Aristotle, ii. 198, 210, 212, 219, 221, 224, 226, 227;
srhdo! of, i. 90 ; put all his opinions upon liis own
authority, i. 99 ; full of ostentation, i. 57 ; goeth for
the l>est author, i. 72 ; character of, i. 72 ; admired
the invariableness of the heavens, i. 79 ; saith our
ancestors were gross, i. 84 ; said that we are be-
holden to him for many of our articles of faith,
i. 123 ; remarks concerning the prolongation of life,
ii. 16; opinion of the colours of feathers, ii. 7 ; advice
in consumptions, ii. 16 ; framed new words in con-
tradiction to ancient wisdom, i. 196; mentions the
ancients only to confute them, i. 196 ; took the
right course for glory in reproving the more ancient
philosophers, i. 196; inquiry in physiognomy, i.
201 ; error in mixing philosophy with logic, i. 173 ;
his sparing use of feigned matter in history, i. 1 72 ;
observation on the power of the mind and reason,
i. 206 ; emulation of. i. 216; followed the example
of Alexander in conquering all opinions as the other
all nations, i. 196 ; remarks on his system of natural
philosophy, i. 427 ; his custom to prefer the obscure,
ii. 581.
Armada, ill nucccgs of the Spanish, ii. 200; account
of it, ii. 208.
.\rm8, the importance of to nations, i. 38 ; flourish
in the youth of a state, i. 62 ; and learning, com-
parison of in advancing men, i. 1H3.
.^rragon, united with Castile, but not naturalized, ii.
155; its rel>ellic)n suppressed, and subsequent incor-
poration with Castile, ii. 15.5.
Arthur, King, i. 199.
Art, duty of to exalt nature, i. 208 ; of memory, visible
images in the, ii. 131 ; the time extent of, ii. 572.
Articulation of sounds, ii. 35.
Arts, mihtary, flourish most while virtue grows, i. 205;
lil)eral, flourish when virtue is in state, i. 20.1 ; volu|>-
tuary, flourish when virtue declines, i. 205 ; history
of, deficient, i. 188.
.\rts and methods, error of over-early reduction of
science into, i. 173.
Arts, intellectual, are four. Invention, Judgment, Me-
mory, Tradition, i. 207.
.\rt8 and sciences, invention deficient, i. 207 ; their
flourishing condition under the reign of King James,
ii. 28.').
Arts of judgment, i. 210.
Arundel and Surrey, Earl of, from Lord Bacon, men-
tioning his being taken ill and staying at his house,
iii. 91.
Ashton, AMy, chaplain to the Earl of Essex, ii. 363.
Assertion and proof, i. 214.
Astringents, a catalogue of diflferent sorts, hot and cold,
ii. 467 ; purgative, ii. 468.
Astrologers, means used by, more monstrous than the
end, i. 199.
Astrologers' judgment that the King of France should
be killed in a duel. i. 43.
Astrology, Chaldean, i. 206.
Astronomer, predictions of, i. 206.
Astronomical observations, admonition respecting, i.
421 ; ii. 580.
Astronomy, theory of, i. 200 ; exemplified in the Book
of Job, i. 175.
Atalanta and the golden ball, i. 174.
Atalanta, or gain, i. 304.
Atheism, learned men and times incline to, i. 163 ;
.superficial knowledge of philosophy may incline the
mind to, i. 164; learned times have inclined to, i. 162;
caused by ignorant preachers, ii. 427 ; meditations
upon, i. 6, 70 ; their disposition light, i. 71 ; Essay
of, i. 24 ; never perturbs states, i. 25.
Athens, poisoned capital offenders, ii. 85 ; their Sex-
viri standing commissioners to watch the laws, ii.
231,235.
Athletic, i. 205 ; philosophy relating to not inquired
i. 20.5.
Atlantis, New, i. 255.
Atlas, i. 210.
Atmosphere, artificial, in New Atlantis, i. 267.
Atoms, equality or inequality of, i. 407.
Attachment for not answering, ii. 481.
Attemus, the start of in Epicurus, a frivolous shift,
i. 71.
Attorney and solicitor-general should not be ignorant
in things though unconnected with their profession,
ii. 379.
.\ttorney -general's place and commission, ii. 489.
Attorney-general, abuse of to Mr. Bacon, ii. 497.
Attraction, by similitude of substance, ii. 94; exjieri-
ment touching, ii. 121 ; experimental remarks on.
ii. 466 ; by similitude of sul)stance, ii. 121.
Attractive bodies, if in small quanuues, ii 466; ob-
servations on. ii. 466.
MS
INDEX.
Audibles anJ visibles, consent and dissent between,
ii. 41 ; Hi. 537. 539, 541, 542, 543.
^ugustin, St. his comparison of nettles, ii. 476; com-
parison used by, ii. 267.
Augustins, order of, ii. 406.
Augustus Cajsar, his saying of his two daughters and
grandson, i. 121 ; his death, i. 12; policy attributed
to him by Livia. i. 14; his friendship to Agrippa,
i. 35 ; of a reposed nature, i. 48 ; of high spirit, yet
beautiful, i. 49 ; sayings and letters of his, i. 113 ;
character of, i. 401 ; in his youth affecting power,
i. 401 ; in his middle ago aflecting dignity, i. 401 ,
in age, ease and pleasure, i. 401 ; in his decline bent
to memory and posterity, i. 401 ; treads the steps
of Caesar, but with deeper print, ii. 357 ; his peace-
able government as highly esteemed as the victories
of Julius Csesar, ii. 246.
Auripiginent and copper make red alchymy, ii. 459.
Austria, Don John of, .lost his reputation at Rimenant,
ii. 207.
Authority of two kinds, ii. 130.
Authors should be consuls and not dictators, i. 172.
Avellaneda, the Spanish admiral, sets upon the Enlish
fleet, after the enterprise of Panama, ii. 212; comes
otf with loss, ii. 212; his boasting, ii. 212.
Aviaries, i. 53.
Axe, in case of felony, whether to be carried before the
prisoner, ii. 516.
Bj^btlon, the excellence of its situation, ii. 228; the
city of estate in Persia, ii. 228 ; Alexander the
Great chose it for his seat, ii. 228 ; afterwards Se-
leucus and his descendants, ii. 228 ; its greatness in
the times of the kings of Parthia, ii. 229 ; of the
successors of Mahomet, ii. 229 ; and at this day,
Biigdad's greatness, ii. 229.
Bacon, Anthony, epistle dedicatorie of the first edition
of the Essays to him, i. 2.
Bacon, his value for the corrections of unlearned men,
i. 277 ; love of familiar illustration, i. 279 ; died 9tli
April, 1620, i. cxii; speech in the House of Com-
mons touching the general naturalization of the
Scottish nation, ii. 150; the union of laws with
Scotland, ii. 158; his argument in Caloin's case,
the post-nati of Scotland, ii. 166; account of his
works, ii. 436; opinion of the Novum Orgaiium,
ii. 436; to the judges, ii. 515; observations on the
advancement of learning, ii. 436 ; most inclined by
nature to the study of arts and sciences, ii. 474 ;
his sayings, i. Ill, 121, 124; thought it wisest to
keep way with antiquity, usque ad aras, i. 196 ;
letter to the king noting his History of Henry VII.,
i. 275 ; life in Biographia Britannia, i. 272 ; notice
of his Essays by Rawley, i. 275 ; his reasons for
devoting himself to philosophy, ii. 549; iii. 534.
Bacon, Sir Nicholas, answer to Queen Elizabeth re-
specting the monopoly licenses, i. 107 ; the littleness
of his house, i. 115; abused in a libel in 1592, ii.
263 ; his character, ii. 263.
Bacon, Friar, his head, ii. 338 ; tradition about, ii. 103.
Bagg's case, Sir E. Coke's answer to the objections in,
ii. 507.
Bagges's case, ii. 528.
Balaam's Ass, author discovered, ii. 510.
balance of ?]urope kept by Henry VIII., Francis I., and
Charles V., ii. 204.
Billarl. his confession showed that all priests were
acquainted with the intended invasion of England,
ii. 255.
fnii'imore, in Ireland, yielded by the Spaniards by the
treaty of Kinsale, ii. 2 1 2.
Banishment, ii. 435.
Bankrupt, commission of, when granted, ii. 485.
Baptism, ii. 426.
Barbary, jiractice of getting fresh water in, ii. 7.
Bark, as to the removal of from trees, ii. 86.
Barkley, Sir Richard, Earl of Essex's keeper, ii. 3.54
Barley, experiments touching, ii. 85.
Baronius, Cardinal, annals of. ii. 512.
Barrels, sounds produced on full or empty, ii. 34.
Barrow, a Brownist, his conduct, ii. 249.
Barton, Eliz., named the maid of Kent, her treasoi
against Henry VIII., ii. 391.
Base counsellors, represented by Tellus, i. 288.
Basilisk killeth by aspect, ii. 127.
Bass and treble strings, sounds of, ii. 33, 34.
Bates, his plea on imports and exports, ii. 278.
Bath, or fomentation, ii. 469 ; mineral, i. 205.
Bathing, experiment touching, ii. 99 ; benefits and
effects of, ii. 98 ; among the Romans, ii. 99.
Beads, different sorts of, ii. 132.
Bears grow fat by sleep, ii. 16.
Beauty, i. 205; helps towards, ii. 1 1 ; of Elizabeth, ii.
449 ; Essay on, i. 48.
Beaver, admonition to imitate the, ii. 487.
Beerehaven yielded by the Spaniards at the treaty of
Kinsale, ii. 212.
Bees, instinct of, ii. 93 ; humming of, what, ii. 33 ;
longevity of, ii. 93.
Behaviour, i. 56.
Belief, of Bacon, ii. 407 ; what worketh, ii. 129 ; and
worship, wants of, ii. 412.
Believing Christian, character of, ii. 410.
Bell metal, ii. 456, 459.
Bells, motion of pressure upon, ii. 8 ; chiming of,
ii. 32.
Beneficence of Elizabeth, ii. 446.
Benefices, value of how regulated, ii. 514.
Bettenham, Mr., opinion of ricbss. i. 121.
Bertram, a murderer and suicide, ii. 501.
Bias, his advice to dissolute mariners praying ki a
tempest, i. 109; a precept of his, i. 117; his pre-
cept, i. 237.
BiJI of review, ii. 479.
Bills, if too long, counsel to be fined for passing, ii
482 ; for what counsel punishable, ii. 482.
Biography, i. 282
Bion, saying of his, i. 109, 120.
Birch's translation of Bacon's praise of Prince Henry,
i. 404.
Bird-witted children ought to be taught mathematics,
i. 218.
Birds, time of growth of, ii. 102; quickness of motion
in, ii. 90; imitate sounds, ii. 39; the nature of,
ii. 102; of paradise, feetless, ii. 269.
Birth, acceleration of, ii. 53.
Bishop by deputy, ii. 424.
Bishop of Winchester, letter to, i. 276.
Bishop Andrews, ii. 435.
Bishops, government of. ii. 423 ; err in resisting re-
form, ii. 417; virtues of. ii. 415; translation of, ii.
492; government, sole error of. ii. 42.3.
Blackwater. defeat of the English by the Iri.«h rebels
at. ii. 211.
Bladder and water, weight of. ii. 464.
Blood, stanching of, ii. 18; insects without, ii. 93;
saltness of, ii. 85 ; commixture of, ii. 465.
Blows and bruises, experiments on, ii. 119
Blunt, Sir C. instigat<)r of treasons, ii. 352 ; wounded
in an encounter between Sir. J, Luson and the Earl
of Essex, ii. 359 ; confession of, ii. 364 ; first con-
fession of, ii. 369 ; confession of, ii. 372 ; speech of,
INDEX.
649
At hi'^ (Icjlh, ii. 373; anks forgivpnpsg of Raleigh,
ii. :n3
Diiilies, the tlivision of. i. 40fi ; 8trainiti(r one through
another, ii. 7; separations of. hy weiuhl, ii. 8; ex|te-
rimenrs on the n>otion of upon their |<resHure, ii. 8 ;
contraction of in hulk, hy mixture of liquid with
solid, ii. 13; imiM-rfectly mixed, ii. 113; induration
of ii. 20, 21 ; appetite in union of, ii. 45 ; hurinlsor
infusions of iti the «arth, ii. ftC ; ellbct of winds on
men's, ii. ft7 ; which do not draw, ii. 4()G ; that arc
borne up hy water, ii. 104 ; conservation of, ii. 104 ;
of .\lfxander and Numa found after their death, ii.
104 ; ex|)eriinent touchint; the supc-rnatation of, ii.
lOY; preservation of, ii. lOS; touching the fixation
of, ii. 108; insensilile perception in, ii. 109; touch-
ing hard and soft, ii. II.'); liquifiuhlo, ii. 114; con-
cretions and dissolutions of, ii. lir>; [ineumaticals
in, ii. 1 15 ; characters of, ii. 115; ductile and tensile,
ii. 115; fragile and tough, ii. 114; ditferent ones
which draw, ii. 4(50 ; distinction of, ii. 560.
Oi>iiy, comniandrnent of the mind over the, i. 206 ;
power of the imagination on the, i, 202 ; good of,
health, beauty, strength, pleasure, i. 202 ; exercise
ofthe, ii. 46; paintings of the, ii. 99; how to he
regulated before the use of purgatives, ii. 18 ; expe-
riments touching the postures ofthe, ii. 99 ; impres-
sions on by passions of the mind, ii. 95; against
the waste of hy heat, ii. 467 ; of body, afiected by,
ii. 586.
Body and mind, action of on each other, i. 202.
Boiling, swelling, and dilatation in, ii. 118.
Jjoldne.ss, Essay of, i. 20.
Bona Notabilia, ii. 514.
Bones, ex|>eriments touching, ii. 100.
Bonham, Ur. his case, ii. 528.
Bonham's case, answers of Lord Coke to objections in,
ii, 506,
Boniface VIIL, Philip the Fair's treatment of, ii, 390.
Books, distinction in their use, i. 55; good ones true
friends, ii. 488; friend always to be found in good
books, ii. 488; of policy, i. 191; dedications to,
i. 169.
Border court, proposal for establishing, ii. 143.
Borgia, Alexander, saying ofthe French, i, 200.
Bounty, a regal virtue, i. 63.
Bow. the Parthians', ii. 288.
Bracelets, to comfort spirits, ii. 132, 133.
Brain, dried and strengthened by perfumes, ii. 127,
Brand, ISebastian, famous book of, ii. 508,
Brass, weight of in water, ii, 464; what made of, ii,
459 ; and iron, union of, ii. 456.
Bravery stands upon comparison, i. 57,
Breakfast preservative against gout and rheums, ii, 466.
Breeding cattle, ii, 384.
Brehon laws, one of the roots of the troubles in Ire-
land, ii. 190,
Brest, Spaniards get footing at, and expelled from, ii.
200, 213.
Bresquet, the jester's answer to Francis I., i, 118.
Brewing, sjwculation of, in Turkey, ii. 95,
Briareus, fable of i. 23,
Bribe accepted by Lord C, Bacon in Mr. Hansbye's
cause, ii. 523 ; lord chancellor accepts, in the cause
of Sir R. Egerton, ii. 522.
Bribery, ii. 435.
Brimstone and quicksilver, where found, ii. 460,
Britain, ii. 454 ; discourse on the true greatness of, ii.
222 ; great strength at sea, one of the principal
dowries of, i. 39,
Brittany, valour ofthe English at some encounters in,
li. 212.
530
Brittle and tough metals, ii. 461.
Bromley, Mr, Solicitor, hit answer to Justice Catline,
i. 110.
Bromley's report, ii. 601.
Broth, how to make nourishing, ii. 14.
Browti, Ur„ his answer to Sir E. Dyer's narration of
Kelly'a making gold, i, 122,
Brownists, dissensions in the church created by them,
ii, 249 ; account of them, ii, 249,
Bruis«-8 and blows, ex|>erimentfl on, ii, 119.
Bubbles, forms of, ii. 10.
Buckhurst, Lord Steward, in commission at the trial of
Earl of Essex, ii, 360,
But kingham. Bacon's letters to noticing his history (>(
Henry VII.. i. 274, 275 ; letter to the Earl of, frotn
Lord Coke, ii. ,507 ; letter from, to the Lord Chan-
cellor, ii. 423 ; letter to, from Lord (', Bacon, touch-
ing Sir W, Raleigh, ii. 525 ; letter from, to the Lord
C, Bacon, touching Sir F. Englefyld's case, ii, 524 ;
to Lord (', Bacon, touching Mr. F, Foliamtie's case,
ii, 524 ; letter to the Lord C, Bacon from, touching
.Mr, Hansbye's case, ii. 523; letter from, to Lord C.
Bacon, touching Dr, Steward, ii. 525; letter from
Sir, F, Bacon to the king, touching his majesty's
defence of, ii, 519; letter to the Earl of, touching
the commendams, ii. 521 ; letters from, to the Lord
Keeper, ii. 52 1 .
Buckingham, Duke of, dedication of essays to, i. 1.
Building, in the new plantations in Ireland, not to bo
sparsim but in towns, ii. 186; observations on, li.
190 ; essay on, i. 49 ; men build stately sooner than
garden finely, i, 51,
Bullen, Queen Anne, message to the king when led
to execution, i. 108,
Burchew wounds a gentleman instead of Sir Christo-
pher Hatton, ii, 263,
Burghley declares the Earl of Essex traitor, which
causes a diminution of his troop, ii. 358.
Burials in earth, experiment on, ii, 56,
Burleigh, Lord, attacked in a libel published in 1592,
ii, 243 ; observations thereon, ii. 244 ; never sued
any man, raised any rent, or put out any tenant,
ii. 262.
Burning-glasses, ii. 27,
Burrage, leaf of its virtue, ii, 9.
Business, affected despatch most dangerous to it. i, 32;
time is its measure, i. 32; its three parts, i. 32 ; an
absurd man l)etter for than an over-formal man, i, 33 ;
set straight by good counsel, i, 35 ; character and
errors of young men in. i, 48 ; of old men in, i. 48 ;
choice of men in, i, 53 ; to be too full of respects is
a loss in business, i, 56 ; in courts it is an easier
matter to give satisfaction, than to do the business,
i, 87 ; first prepared, rijiened by degrees, ii. 4ti9 ;
like ways, and why, i. 121,
Cahinkt of knowledge, i. 218.
Cadiz taken by the Earls of Essex and Nottingham,
ii, 210,
Cairo, plagues in, ii, 100,
Cain, his envy towards .■Vbel, i, 17.
Cain and Abel, contemplation and action figureij in,
i. 175.
Calais, Spaniards beaten out of, ii, 200, 213; kept by
us one hundred years after we lost the rest of France,
why so long kept, and why taken, ii. 224 ; overtuies
off)eace broken olfuifon the article of the restiiutii.n
of Calais, ii, 258 ; in the possession of Spaniards,
ii. 287.
Calanus, the Indian, his advice to .\lexander, ii. 228
Calcinaiion of metals, ii. 46U, 461.
650
INDEX.
Calendar of thing* not invented, i. 200 ; supposed im-
possibilities, i. 200 ; discoveries leading to inven-
tions, i. 200 ; pojjular errors, i. 200 ; of inventions
now extant, i. 200.
CuUisthenes's praise and dispraise of the Macedonian
nation, ii. 229, 235 ; mode of becoming famous,
i. 115.
Galore et Frigore, De, the rudiment of the affirmative
table in the Novum Organum, i. 9.
Calves of the legs, how to form, ii. 11.
(Calvin's case, Sir F. Bacon's argument in it, ii. 166.
Canals, making prohtable, ii. 384.
Candles, how to make them last, ii. 56.
Cane, the properties of, ii. 86. '
Cannil)alism, ii. 443.
Cannibals in the West Indies, ii. 10.
(Japital offence to conspire the death of a counsellor of
state, law contrived by the chancellor, ii. 333.
Capital offenders, how the Athenians punished by poi-
son, i. 85.
Captains, promotion of, ii. 383.
Cardamon, or water-cresses, ii. 53.
Cardan, saying of, ii. 488.
Cardinal, meaning of, ii. 423.
Cards and dice, when to be used. ii. 38S.
Cares, meditation on the moderation of, i. 68.
Carew, Sir George, i. 283 ; President of Munster, ii. 21 1.
Carlisle, state of, ii. 506.
Carneades, Cato's conceit of the eloquence of, i. 164.
Carvajall, Francis, sayings of his, i. 116.
Cartels of the Pope of Rome, ii. 389.
Carthagena, taking of, by Drake, ii. 208.
Case, Low's, of tenures, iii. 276 ; of revocation of uses,
iii. 280 ; of impeachment of waste, iii. 268.
Cassander's subtle answer to Alexander, i. 180.
Cassandra, i. 287.
Cassius, a witty answer of his to an astrologer, i. 114.
Cassytas, an herb growing in Syria, ii. 87.
Castlehaven yielded to the Spaniards at the treaty of
Kinsale, ii. 212.
(catalogue of particular histories, iii. 431.
Catesby, his attainder, i. 318.
Caterpillars, experiments touching, ii. 98.
Catharine of Spain married to Prince Arthur, i. 373.
Cathohcs, ii. 450.
Cato, Major, Livy's description of him, i. 46 ; saying
of, i. 116.
Cato's . conceit of the eloquence of Carneades, i. 164;
punishment of, for his blasphemy against learning,
i. 166; satire of the Romans, i. 228 ; his foresight,
i. 287 ; his saying of sheep, ii. 270.
Cato the elder, his saying of the Romans, i. 109 ; on
his having no statue, i. 120 ; saying of, i. 121.
Categories, i. 210.
Cattle, breeding of, profitable, ii. 384.
Cause and effect, iii. 525.
Causes, physical, knowledge of, new, i. 199.
Canlharides flie«, experiments on, ii. 98 ; fly poison,
ii. 318.
Caves, in Solomon's house, i. 266.
Cajsar, (.Julius,) i. 401 ; an instance of military great-
ness and learning, i. 164; wit in his speeches, i. 181;
noble answer to Metellus, i. 181 ; Apophthegnis, loss
of, i. 192 ; excellence of his learning declared in his
writings, i. 180; an instance of conjunction of mili-
tary excellence and learning, i. 180 ; ambition, i. 235;
his contempt of Cato, i. 236; saying of, i. 231 ;
raised no buildings, i. 401 ; enacted no laws, i. 401 ;
avoided envy by avoiding pomp, i. 402 ; well read in
bistory, expert in rhetoric, i. 403 ; by his address to
his mutinous army appeased their sedition, i. 115 ;
his saying of Sylla, i. 115; his reply when saluted
king, i. 117; his conduct to Metellus the tribune,
i. 120 ; a remark of his in his book against Cato.
i. 121 ; did greater things than the wits feigned
King Arthur or Huon, of Bordeaux, to have done.
i. 88 ; did himself hurt by a speech, i. 24 ; his friend-
ship for Decimus Brutus, i. 35 ; his speech to thu
pilot in the tempest, i. 46 ; took Pompey un[)rovided,
by giving out that his soldiers loved him not, i. 62 ;
his saying of Pompey, i. 31 ; of Piso, wrote a cl-
lection of apophthegms, now lost, i. 107; know-
ledge of getting water upon the sea-coast, ii. 7 ; imi-
tation of Sylla, only in reforming the laws, ii. 234;
witty saying of, i. 110; lovers of, i. 300.
Cajsar, Augustus, his dissimulation, i. 235,
CiEsar Borgia's treachery to the lords at Cinigaglia,
and Pope Alexander's remark on it, i. 108.
Ctesars, Lives of, i. 284, 401.
Cecil charges Bacon of ill will to the Earl of Essex,
ii. 336.
Cecil, Sir Edward, his eminent service at the battle of
Newport, ii. 211.
Cecil, Sir Robert, his ability, ii. 264.
Cecile, Duchess of York, i. 355.
Celestial hierarchy, degree of, i. 175.
Ceisus's observation on medicines, i. 207; his precept
for health, i. 39 ; remark on the causes of uses, i. 87.
Cements, experiments touching, ii. 11(5.
Ceremonial laws respecting meats, i. 202.
Ceremonial magic, i. 206.
Ceremonies and resfiects, essay on, i. 56.
Certiorari can only be once in the same cause, ii. 484 ;
causes removed by special, ii, 480.
Chaldean astrology, i. 206.
Chambletting of paper, ii. 100.
Chamoepytis, what good for, ii. 136.
Chamelions, ex()eriment touching, ii. 54.
Chancellor, Sir Francis Bacon, when made, i, 522 ;
rules for a, ii. 47 1 ; his jurisdiction as to writs, ii. 484 ;
excess of jurisdiction of, ii. 472 ; contrivance of a
law to protect the, i. 333 ; lord deputy, i, 424 ;
Bacon to Marquis of Buckingham, touching Sir H.
Yelverton's sentence, ii. 526.
Chancery, master's reports in, ii. 472 ; court, defects in
the practice of the, ii. 472 ; court, regulations for
practice in the, ii. 472 ; ordinances in, ii. 479 ; Lord
Bacon's speech on taking his ])lace in, ii. 471 ; not
restrained by premunire, ii. 490 ; decrees after judg-
ment, ii. 514.
Change, desire of, and restless nature of things in
themselves, ii. 108.
Chanteries, stat. 1 E. vi. c. 14, ii. .506.
Chaplains of noblemen non-residents, ii. 428.
Character of Julius Csesar, i. 401 ; of believing Chris-
tians, ii. 410.
Charcoal, vapour of, ii. 129.
Charges, judicial, ii. 471 ; judicial, upon the commis-
sion for the verge, ii. 289.
Chariots, invention of, attributed to Ericthonius, i. 301.
Charitable uses, suits for, ii. 485.
Charity, on the exaltation of, i. 68 ; what is the height
of charity, i. 68.
Charles VIIL, i. 326 ; state of France under, i. 326 ;
embassy to King Henry, i. 326 : invades Brittany,
i. 328; marries the Duchess of Brittany, i. 341;
supports Pekin Warbeck, i. 348 ; his death, i. 369.
Charles, Prini-e of Castile, marriage with the Princes*
Mary. i. 381.
! Charles, an imperial name, ii. 201; considerations
I touching a war with Spain, inscribed to Prince
I Charles, ii. 201.
INDEX.
551
Charles IX. of Franre, edict ajyainst ilucl«, ii. 297.
(Charles V., melancholy in his latter yearn, i. 27; his
rigour to Pope Clement, ii. 390 ; forced from Is-
bur(?h. ii. 200, 21.3.
Charles the Hurdy, his closeness, i. 35.
Charter-house, advice to the king concerning, ii. 239.
Children, essay of parents and, i. 1.").
Chilon's remark of kings, friends, and favourites, i. 114;
of men and gold, i. 120.
China, ordnance used in, 2000 years, i. 61.
Chineses paint llieir skins, ii. 99 ; mad for making sil-
ver, ii. 49.
Christian, believing, characters of, ii. 410; paradoxes,
ii. 410; religion, .iincas Sylvius's praise of the
honesty thereof, i. 121; church, the, preserved the
relics of heathen learning, i. 176.
Christianity, injurious elfect of Julianus's edict against,
i. 176; consolation of, ii. 43.5 ; war to disseminate,
«i. 440; affectli.'i of, ii. 413; the lawyers its most
violent op|)oiient.s. ii. 443.
Chuets, when used, ii. 15.
Church, its government, i. 244 ; history, prophecy, and
providence, i. 191 ; music, ii. 426 ; controversy, five
errors in, ii. 414 ; controversies, ii. 411 ; pacification,
considerations on, ii. 420 ; contempt of, punishable,
ii. 290 ; reform, ii. 42 1 ; fear of the subversion of, a
just ground for war with Spain, ii. 200, 202, 206 ;
its condition is to be ever under trials, ii. 249 ; its
two trials, persecution and contention, ii. 249; mis-
sions, ii. 437 ; meditations on the church and the
Scriptures, i. 71 ; preserved the books of philosophy
and heathen learning, i. 98.
Chylus, ii. 15.
Chymists, [)rinciples where, ii. 460.
Cicero, i. 209, 229 ; was resolute, i. 165 ; error in form-
ing sciences, i. 173; his idea of a perfect orator, i.
237 ; complaint against Socrates for separating phi-
losophy and rhetoric, i. 201 ; complaint of the school
of Socrates, i. 85; his evidence against Clo<lius dis-
believed, and his reply to Ciodius, upbraidings on
that account, i. 108; his answer to Deciu.s Brutus,
i. 302 ; his speech on the law against bribery, i.
118; of Rabirius Posthumous, i. 42 ; of Horlensius,
i. 48 ; his fame lasted because Joined with vanity in
himself, i. 57; his proof that the academic was the
best sect, i. 73; a saying of his to C.'esar, i. 77;
answer respecting an old lady who affected youth, i.
109 ; other answers of i. Ill; reason for the power
of t.he Romans, i. 25 ; ii. 435 ; of faction, ii. 476.
Cineas, his questions and advice to Pyrrhus respecting
his intended conquests, i. 118.
Cinnamon and cassia, ii. 83.
Ciphers, i. 213.
Circular motion, eternity cannot be predicated from,
ii. .58 1,583.
Circuit judges' stay upon, ii. 379.
Circe and .Esculapius, exposition of credulity by fable
of, i. 203.
Cistertians, order of, ii. 506.
Civet, the strength of its perfume, i. 89
Civil law nqt to be neglected, ii. 380 ; history by Ba-
ron, i. 273 ; discipline, i. 169; history, i. 189, 190;
knowledge, i. 228.
Clarific;itioii, experiment touching, ii. 103.
(Clarified hippocras, how, ii. 8.
(clarifying water, syrups, &c., ii. 8.
Clay countries, ii. 462.
(31eardiness of Alexander, ii. 8.
Clearchus, his answer to Falinus, i. 108.
(Clearing by decrees better than clearing at once, i. 36.
Clemency of Elizabeth, ii. 446.
Clement, Pope, his answer to the cardinal, complaining
of Michael Angelo's painting him as a dannied soul,
i. 109.
I Clement VII., an example against irresoluteness,
I i. 165,
Clergy, improper conduct of, ii. 414; provision of, ii.
I 429; privileges of, reduced, L 333 ; residence by,
ii. 428.
Clerks, convict, to be burned in the hand, i. 333 ; of
I council, choice in, ii. 381.
Clifford, Sir Conyers, disaster of, ii. 351.
I Clillord imfjeaches the lord chamberlain, i. 352.
Clifford, Sir Robert, joins in Perkin Warl>eck'» conspi-
racy, i. 349; won over to the king, i. 350.
Clinias, in Plato, his opinion of war, ii. 204.
Clodius's acquittal, and Catullus's question to his jury,
i. 108.
, Cloth manufactory, laws regarding, i. 376.
i Cloves, power of on water, ii. 20.
Clouds mitigate the heat of the sun, i. 100.
C(jelum'8 exposition of fable, i. 296.
Cffilum, or beginnings, i. 296.
Coffee, effects of, ii. 99.
Cogitation, words the image of, i. 212.
Coin of Pope Julius, ii. 390.
Coins, one of the external points of separation with
Scotland, ii. 144.
Coke, ex[)ostulation to Lord Chief Justice, ii. 4 85 ; book-
wise, but comparatively ignorant of men, ii. 486;
admission of his great legal knowledge, ii. 4S6. 487;
his faults in pleading shown, ii. 486; his faulu ex-
posed, ii. 486 ; his too much love of money, ii. 486 ;
advice to as to charity, ii. 486 ; plainly told how he
got his money, li. 1S7; defence of judges, letter to
the king concerning commendam*, ii. 495 ; his sin-
gleness of conduct in the case of commendams, ii.
496 ; abuse offered to Mr. F. Bacon in the Exche-
quer, ii. 497; reasons for promoting to Lord Chief
Justice of the King's Bench, ii. 497; Reports, cha-
racter of them, ii. 230; obligation of the law to, ii.
230 ; censure of his Reports, ii. 498 ; commandeil
to forbear sitting at Westminster, ii. 498; seques-
tered from the table of the circuits, ii. 499 ; Reports,
expurging of, ii. 499 ; his behaviour in church
affairs, ii. 500 ; not changed by being made one of
the king's council, ii. 500 ; his corrections in his
Reports scorn rather than satisfaction to the king,
ii. 500 ; ju.slificatitm of his Reports, ii. 500 ; removed
from King's Bench, ii. 500 ; answers to objections
taken to parts of his Reports, ii. 506 ; saying of, i.
115; his opinion of Lord Bacon's Instauralio Magna,
ii. 503 ; a pajier on laws designed against, ii. 513 ;
Sir Francis Bacon confesses he was .sometimes too
sharp to Sir Edward, ii. 520; questions demanded
touching the Reports of. by the king's command-
ment, ii. 528 ; answers to questions put U{)on hi»
reported cases, ii. 529, 530 ; Reports, faults in, the
acts of courts, ii. 499.
Cold, effecU of, i. 102, 103 ; condensation of air, by
ii. 10; cause of taking, ii. 14; prohibits putrefaction
ii. 51 ; on the production of, ii. 18; the sun mag.
netical oi, ii. 19; causes of, ii. 19; mortification by
ii. 106.
Colleges and schools to be encouraged, ii. 378.
Colic, cure for the. ii. 13.3.
Coligni, Admiral, his advice to Charles IX. to wai
against Flanders, ii. 205.
Colonies, how to be formed, ii. 385; management of,
ii. 385 ; what first to be done in, ii. 385 ; how to be
governed, ii. 385 ; customs and rents to the king
from, ii. 386 ; how to choose for, ii. 38.i.
552
INDEX.
Colonization must be voluntary, ii. 386.
(./olours, which show best by candle light, i. i» ; of
good and evil, fragment of, i. 72 ; have little nee. ssi-
tude with the properties of things, i. 89 ; producing
hair of divers, ii. 282: of feathers, what causes the
different in birds, ii. 7 ; of good and evil, account of
the pulilications of, i. 7.
Combat, trial of right by, Spanish custom, ii. 298.
Comets, have power over the mass of things, i. 60 ;
causes and effects of heat, i. 100,
Commendams, to the king about, ii. 488 ; evils of,
ii. 429.
Comnenus, Emanuel, poisoning of the air by, ii. 127.
Commentaries and annotations, i. 217.
Commerce, considerations respecting, ii. 148.
Commission, of bankrupt, when granted, ii. 48,5 ; for
examination of witnesses, when to be discharged,
ii. 484 ; a constan-t one given to honest men subor-
dinate to the council board, suggested, ii. 385 ; of
suits, advice to the king for reviving, ii. 520.
Commissions, as to suits for, ii. 485; to examine wit-
nesses, ii. 483.
Commissioners, report on, ii. 149.
Common, as to enclosing, ii. 384.
Common law, when it controls acts of Parliament, ii.
506.
Common laws, elements of the, iiL 131,
Common prayer, swerving from in divine service,
punishable, ii. 290.
Commonplace books enumerated, i. 212.
Commons, House of, their power, ii. 380 ; to repre-
sent, not personate the people, ii. 286; speech on
grievances of, ii. 272.
Commonwealth, nature of, first seen in a family, i.
188; Plato's, ii. 286.
Communication and transmission of discoveries and
inventions, i. 434.
Comparative instances of heat, iii. 379.
Compass, effects produced by the invention of, i. 431.
Compound metals now in use, ii. 459 ; fruits and
flowers, ii. 66.
Composts, different sorts of, for ground, ii. 79.
Compositio, its difference from mistio, ii. 40; one
of the internal points of separation with Scotland,
ii. 146.
Compression of bodies, ii. 8.
Concoction, experiment touching, ii. 1 13.
Concord, -to discord, ii, 26.
Concords, perfect or semi-perfect, ii. 25.
Concretion of bodies, ii. 115.
Conference makes a ready man, i. 55.
Confession of faith, ii. 407.
Confirmation, ii. 426.
Confusio serii et joci, ii. 413.
Conquest, effects of, ii. 453.
Consalvo, answers of, i. 115, 117.
Consent, touching cures by motion of, ii. 17.
Conservation of bodies, ii. 104.
Considerations on church pacification, ii. 420.
Consolations of Christianity, ii. 435.
Conspirators, Elizabeth's conduct to, ii. 445.
Constantinople, the excellence of its situation, ii. 229.
Constable, Sir John, dedication of essays (edit. 1612)
to, i. 3.
Constables, office of, iii. 315.
(consumption, drink for, ii. 15.
<'onsumptions, Aristotle's advice in, ii. 16.
Contemplation and action, i. 220; of God's creatures
produceth knowledge, i. 163; and action figured in
Abel and Cain, i. 175; man's exercise in Paradise,
i. 175; and action, union between, ii. 173, 174 . of
nature, men have withdrawn from, i. \T-i.
Contempt, puts an edge uj>on anger, i. 60.
Contempts, as to taking away possession for, ii. 472 ;
on force or ill words, ii. 484 ; imprisonment for, iu
484.
Contentions, learning, i. 169, 170.
Contraction produces cramp, ii. 133.
Contributions, against, ii. 514.
Controversies, church, ii. 411.
Controversy, mind, state of, ii. 420 ; church, errors in,
ii. 414.
Conversation, i. 228; ii. 424; short notes for civil, i.
131 ; its wisdom, i. 228.
Cookery, receipts fir, ii. 15.
Copernicus's theory of astronomy, i. 200, 201; ii. 577.
(yopies, in chancery, survey of, ii. 474; in chancery,
ii. 483.
Copper iind tin, mixture of, ii. 456.
Copyholds, commissions granted for, ii. 275.
Coral, touching the growth of, ii. 105; use of to the
teeth, ii. 101; near the nature of plant and metal,
ii. 81.
Cordials, as medicines, ii. 468.
Corn, erection of granaries f )r foreign, ii. 283.
Corn, as t-o diseases of and accidents to, ii. 88.
Cornelius Tacitus, i. 190.
Cornish diamonds the exudations of stone, ii. 7.
Corns and wens, how to remove, ii. 136.
Corpulency, how to avoid, ii. 11,
Corrupt bodies, effect of medicine on, ii. 543.
Cosmetic, i. 205.
Cosmography, history of, i. 191; exemplified in the
book of Job, i. 175.
Cosmus, Duke of Florence, his saying about perfi-
dious friends, i. 14.
Costs, defendant to pay, upon insufficient answer, ii.
483; in chancery suits, ii 474.
Cotton, examination of Sir Robert, ii. 515.
Cotton's case, Sir R., letter concerning, to the Lord
Chancellor, from Buckingham, ii. 522, 523.
Cotton's cause, letter to the king touching, ii. 511.
Council, act of, ii. 491; board, a commission subordi-
nate to, ii. 385; privy, how to form, ii. 381; choice
in clerks of, ii. 381; of Ireland, advice to reduce the
number, ii. 191; business, account of, ii. 537, 538.
Counsel, pleading, i. 58 ; essay of, i. 28 ; one of the
fruits of friendship, i. 35 ; its two sorts, i. 35 ; ho-
nest, rare, but from a perfect friend, i. 3 ; b(5utidsof,
i. 168; fined for long bills, ii. 482; as to refusing
to be, ii, 509.
Counsels, cabinet, a motto for them, i. 29.
Counsellor of state, capital offence to conspire the
death of, i. 333.
Counsellor, privy, his duty, ii. 381.
Counsellors, privy, bound by oath to secrecy, ii. 381;
their delivery by one of the principal offenders, ii.
359 ; degenerate arts of some by which they gain
favour ; others " negotiis pares," yet unable to am-
plify their own fortunes, i. 36; in plantations,
should be noblemen and gentlemen, no^ merchants,
i. 41; of state, choice of as to their number, ii. 38 1;
for what bills punishable, ii. 482 ; of state, ii. 381.
Countries, Low, ii. 451.
Court, the king's, ii. 387; of the green cloth, ii. 267;
rolls, examination of, ii. 482.
Courtier, the boon obtained of an emperor by a, iL
376.
Courtiers, H. Noel's opinion of, i. 121.
Courts of justice, their four bad instruments, i. 59 •
INDKX.
553
If****, sheriff's turn, i^rc. iii. SIT); of rhnnrery, de-
lays how to Im> reiiicdit'il, ii. 47'2; of coinmoii law,
growth of, ii. 491 ; for the borders of Scotland, sur-
Kfstioiis for, ii. 143; several, of juKtiie, one of the
iriieriial points of separntion with Seolland, ii. 146 ;
of iustice, the ordinary, ii. 380; as to their jurisdic-
tion, ii. :)79.
Coventry seasoned hy Lord Coke in his ways, ii. 501;
Covering, defects of, i. 2154.
tJramp, comes of contraction, ii. 1.33.
('ranfield's. Sir Lionel, saying, i. 109.
Craiiiology, i. 202.
Crassus, answers of his, i. 116.
Creatures, j)crfeclion of history of, i. 187; living,
comparative !iiagnilude of, ii. 117; bred of putre- I
faction, ii. 92. j
Credulity and imposition, concurrence between, i. 172;
adamant of lies, ii. 429.
C'riticid knowledge, i. 217.
Critics, their rash judgment, i. 217 ; absurd mistakes
of, i. 217.
Croesus, reason of for preferring peace to war, i. 11.5 ;
Solon's answer to him, i. 118.
Crollius, chymical dis[)ensatory of, ii. 130.
Cross-row, second letter of the, ii. 4G0 ; third letter,
ii. 460; fourth letter, ii. 4G2.
Crowd is not company, i. 34.
Crown, one of the external points of separation with
Scotland, ii. 144 ; no crown of Europe has so great
a proportion of demesne and land revenue, ii.
228.
Crown's revenues, ii. 388.
Crudity, experiment touching, ii. 113.
Crystal, congealing water into. ii. 54 ; comes of water,
li. 463.
Cuffe, evidence against, ii. 365,
Cuffe, Henry, enemy to all superiors, ii. 354.
Culture of the mind, i. 223.
Cunning, essay of, i. 30.
Cu[)id and heaven, fable of, i. 435.
Cupid, or an atom, i. 298.
Cure in some ulcers and hurls, ii. 106.
Cures worked by the imagination, ii. 136 ; by inotion
of consent, ii. 17.
Curiosity unprofitable, i. 171.
Custom and education, essay on,i. 45; cure by, ii. 17;
its froward retention as fro ward as innovation, i. 32 ;
only alters nature, i. 45; the principal magistrate of
man's life, i. 45 ; power of on meats, &c., ii. 46 ;
cannot confirm what is unreasonable, ii. 295.
Customs, statutes of, 6 R. II., 9 K. II., 13 H. IV., 1
H. v., ii. 280; statutes of. 3 Ed. I.. 1. E.l. III., 14
Ed. III., 17 Ed. III., 38 Ed. III., 1 1 Ed. II., 47 Ed.
III., ii. 279, 280; ancient commencement of, ii.
279 ; to the king from colonies, ii. 386.
Cuttle ink, experiment touching, ii. 100.
Cyclops, or ministers of terror, i. 288.
Cyrus, from whom he sought supply, ii. 281.
J)amps in mines, which kill. ii. 127.
D.iniel's prophecy of the latter times, i. 191.
Dark, on wood shining in the, ii. 52.
Darcy's case, ii. 528, 529.
Davers, Sir Charles, first confession of, ii. 368 ; second
confession of, ii. 369.
David sought by Samuel, i 208; saying of his respect-
ing adversity, ii. 488.
David's military law, i. 185.
Davis, Sir John, confession of, ii. 368 ; set guard over
chief justice and the lord keeper, ii. 358.
D'.^quilla, D'Avila. the Spanish general, taken prisoner
Vol. III.-70
at Kinsale, ii. 200, 211 ; his abuse of the Irish, ii.
212.
D'.^ubigny. Lord. i. 353.
D'.Avila, Uomez, carries letters for Lopez and Ferrera
in their (ilot against Cjueen Eli/^dH-th, ii. 219 ; bringn
back answers from Marniel l^ouis, ii. 219; appre-
hended at landing, ii. 219.
Deafness from sound, persons deaf from sound, ii. 28.
Death, learning mitigates the fear of i. 182; motion
after the instant of. ii. 59 ; the essay of, inserted from
the remains of 1645, remarks upon it, i. 10; egs(>y
of, i. II : essay on, i. 131 ; history of hfe and, iii.
467; porches of, iii. 508.
Debate, haste should not be used in matters of weighty^
ii. 381.
Decemvirs, make the twelve tables, ii. 23 1 ; grafted
the laws of Greece upon the Roman stock, ii. 234.
Decorations of body. i. 205.
Decree pronounced should be speedily signed, ii. 473;
breach of, ii. 480.
Decrees in chancery after judgment against the, ii. 514 ;
special order for reading, ii. 483; not enrolled, no
exemplification of. to be allowed, ii. 485 ; in chincery,
ii. 479 ; drawn at the rolls, ii. 482.
Dedications to books, i. 169 ; objections to Seneca's,
ii. 435.
Deer, the nature of, ii. 102.
Defects, covering, i. 2{14.
Defence of Cuffe, ii. 365; of Earl of Essex, ii. 360.
Defendant, when to be examined upon interrogatories,
ii. 483.
Deformity, essay on, i. 49 ; deformed persons bold, in-
dustrious, i. 49.
Delays, essay of, i. 29 ; mature advice should not be
confounded with, ii. 489.
Delegates, commission of. ii. 485.
Delicate learning, and different kinds of, i. K>9.
Delivery, style of, i. 214; methodical, i. 214.
Deluges, bury all things in oblivion, i. 60.
Demetrius, answers made to him. i. 116.
Democritus, i. 198; cllect of odour upon, ii. 128 ; opi-
nion of the cause of colours, i. 89 ; of truth, i. 122 ;
his doctrine respecting an atom, i. 299 ; his philo-
sophy, i. 198, 435, 437; his saying of nature, i.
195 ; primitive remarks on the theory of Democritus
and Leucippus, ii. 578 : intermixtum and coacerva-
tum, theories of, ii. 578 ; whether the interstellar
space, or pure ether, be one entire, unbroken stream,
or consist of a variety of contiguous parts, ii. 578 :
his theory of the universe, ii. 576.
Demonax, his answer respecting his burial, i. 109.
Demosthenes, ii. 435 ; his scorn of wars which are
not preventive, ii. 204; his answer to .^Eschines,
i. 114; to others, i. 118,209; said action was the
chief part of an orator, i. 20 ; his speech in many
orations to the Athenians, i. 76 ; reprehends the
])eople for hearkening to King Philip's condition,
i. 77 ; answers of his, i. 116; answer to iEschines
as to times of leisure, i. 166; a water-drinker, i.
228 ; his saying.s, i. 235.
Demurrers for discharging the suit, ii. 482 ; not to be
overruled on petition, ii. 483 ; defined, ii. 482 • re-
ference upon, ii. 482.
Dendamis, the Indian, i. 239.
Denham, Sir John, ii. 477 ; speech to, in the exchequei
ii. 477.
Denizens, privileges and disabilities of, ii. 169.
Denmark, state of, during the time of Queen Elizabeth,
ii. 248 ; king of, incorporated to the blootl of Eng
land, and engaged in the quarrel of the Palatinatn,
ii. 213.
3 A
554
INDEX.
Dense bodies coldest, ii. 19.
Density and rarity, history of, iii. 464.
Desire of memory, i. 190.
DesTiond, Countess, teeth of, ii. 101.
Despatch, essay of, i. 32 ; its measurement, i. 32 ; order
and distribution, its Hfe, i. 32 ; proceeding upon
somewhat conceived in faciUtates despatch, i. 32.
Despatches, for facilitating, ii. 377.
Deucalion or restitution, i. 301.
Dew of May for medicine, ii. 106.
Dews and rams, how produced, ii. 10.
Diagoras's saying of Neptune's temple, i. 211.
Diamonds, Cornish, are the exudations of stone, ii. 7,
Diapason, not the true computation, ii. 25.
Dice and cards, when to be used, ii. 388.
Diets, experiments touching, ii. 18; good which makes
lean, ii. 469 ; beware of sudden change in, i. 39 ;
importance of to the mind, i. 202.
Digestion, touching, ii. 54.
Digests of laws of England and Scotland, ii. 147; of
laws of England, offer of, ii. 233.
Dignity, of governors, depends on the dignity of the
governed, i. 182.
Dilatation and swelling in boiling, ii. 1 IS.
Dioclesian, melancholy in his latter years^ i. 27.
Diogenes, how he would be buried, i. 109; answers
of his, i. 115, 116, 120, 121, 122; sharp answer as
to the morigeration of learned men, i. 169 ; Alexan-
der's observation respecting, i. 179.
Diomedes, or zeal, i. 299.
Dionysius, or passions, i. 303.
Discontinuance of the prosecution, ii. 480.
Discord to concord, sweetness of, ii. 26.
Discords, which, most odious, ii. 25.
Discourse, touching the safety of the queen's person,
ii. 214; eseay on, i. 40; accords with a man's
learning and expressed opinions, i. 45 ; in praise of
Elizabeth, ii. 445.
Discovery, impression, i. 201; of forms, i. 197; a
branch of human philosophy, i. 201.
Disease of Naples, origin of, ii. 10; origin of French,
ii. 10.
Diseases, epidemical, ii. 57 ; appropriate exercises for,
i. 55 ; infectious, ii. 46.
Dispositions of men, i, 224.
Dissimilarity of things celestial and sublunary, in re-
gard to eternity and mutability, not proved to be
true, i..415.
Dissimulation, essay of, i. 14.
Dissimulations discovered by physiognomy, i. 201.
Dissolution of metals, ii. 461, 462 ; of bodies, ii. 115 ;
of metals, ii. 460.
Dissolved metals, ii. 465.
Distempers of learning, i. 169.
Distribution, the hfe of despatch, if not too subtile, i.
32 ; the real use of great riches, i. 42.
Divination, natural, ii. 109.
Divinity, university lectures of, advice to raise the
person of, out of the Sutton estate, ii. 241 ; its pro-
gress under .lames I., ii. 285 ; should not be all in
all, but only above all, i. 98 ; or philosophy cannot
be searched too far, i. 164; its two parts, i. 241 ;
Its four branches, i. 243.
iJivine voice above the light of nature, i. 239.
Divine influxion, i. 206.
Divine philosophy, no deficience in but excess, i.
195.
T)ivine providence, i. 198.
D'vine proofs of the advantages of learning, i. 174.
Divines, objections of to learning answered, i. 162.
JJi vines, objections to learning by, i. 162.
Divination, natural, two sorts, i. 206; artificial, of two
sorts, i. "Ofi ; superstitious, i. 206; division of, 1.
artificial, rational, superstitious; 2. natural, native
influxion, i. 206.
Division, of learning, i. 187; of history, i. 187; of
human philosophy, i. 201 ; of natural prudence,
i. 199; of doubts, i 200.
Divided state, i. 201.
Dodderidge made judge, ii. 498.
Dogs, know the dog-killer, ii. 134; sense of scent
almost a sixth sense, ii. 92.
Dog-killer, dogs know the, ii. 134.
Domitian, happy reign of, i. 177.
Domitian's dream, i. 43 ; dream before his death, ii,
233.
Doubts, division of, particular total, i. 200; evils of,
i. 200 ; registry of, i. 200 ; manner of registering,
i. 201.
Drake's expedition to the West Indies, ii. 208 ; his
expedition in 1587 showed the weakness of the
Spaniards, ii. 208 ; his terming it the singeing of
the King of Spain's beard, ii. 208 ; his and Sir
John Hawkins's voyage to the West Indies, unfor-
tunate, ii. 212; his death, ii. 212.
Draining, land improved by, ii. 384.
Dreams, exposition of, i. 201 ; to be despised, but the
spreading of them is mischievous, i. 43.
Drink, dissipation of melancholy by, ii. 9 ; ripening
of before the time, ii. 89 ; a restorative, ii. 467.
Drinks in Turkey, ii. 94 ; maturation of, ii. 47.
Drowned mineral works, speech for the recoveries of,
ii. 463.
Drowning of metals, ii. 457.
Droughts, great ones in summer, ii. 109.
Drums, sound in, ii. 30.
Drunkenness, pleasures of, ii. 92 ; causes and effects
of, ii. 97; experiments in, ii. 97.
Druse in Normandy, valour of the English at, ii. 212.
Drury House, consultation and resolutions taken at,
ii.35.5.
Dye of scarlet, ii, 122.
Dyer, Mr., his opinion of customs, ii. 279.
Dionysius the tyrant, answer of his, i. 1 12.
Dionysius the elder's answer to his son, i. 115.
Dudley and Empson, the people's curses rather than
any law brought their overthrow, ii. 236 ; wicked in-
struments of Henry, i. 374.
Dudley made Speaker of the House of Commons,
i. 376.
Duels, French law of, ii. 297; causes of ii. 296;
Turkish emperor's censure of, ii. 298 ; despised
even by barbarous nations, ii. 298 ; nature and great-
ness of the offence of ii. 296 ; decree of Star Cham-
ber against, ii. 300 ; edict against by Charles IX. of
France, ii. 297 ; accessaries before, punishable, ii.
299 ; charge against, ii. 295 ; the practice not among
Greeks or Romans, ii. 298 ; remedies for, ii. 296 ;
English law of ii. 297.
Duelling, a presumptuous offence, ii. 300 ; weakness,
and conscience of small value, ii. 302 ; a breaking
of the law, ii. 302.
Dulcorafing o\ fruit by ancients, ii. 65.
Dust, how it helpeth the growth of plants, ii. 88.
Dutch, the perpetual duellist of Spain, ii. 213; the in-
crease of their power since 1588, ii. 213.
Duty, i. 74 ; of a king, i. 222.
Eahth, differences between sand and, ii. 7 ; increase of
weight in, ii. 100; mode of strengthening, ii. 464;
not necessary to the sprouting of plants, ii. 85 ; veins
of medicinal, ii. 94 ; the cosmographers who first
IXDKX.
555
discovcrc.l the roundncag of the earth ccnuurcil by
the church, i. 97 ; how turned, ii. 462 ; whfther it
is pcrinhal>!^>, ii. ."iSI ; rotation of, an extriivasrant
notion, iii. 52fi ; whether the (liurn:»l mution i« con-
fined within the region of heaven, iii. b'ZCi ; the idea
that it is a maunrt a light iinap;ination, iii. 528 ; in-
ward parts of. cannot rewnihle any su'.islance which
the eye of man hath seen, iii. 528.
Eirthqunkes hury nil iliings in oblivion, i. 00.
Earths, differences of, ii. 87.
Ecbatana. the summer parlour of the Kings of Persia,
ii. 228.
Ecclesiastical reform, ii. 421; estate, Lord Coke an
enemy to, ii. 500.
Echo, concerning the nature of, ii. 30 ; phenomenon
of, iii. 541 ; the representative of vain paradox, i. 292.
Echoes, different sorts of, ii. 40 ; superreflcction of.
ii. 107.
Economy, political, ii. 1 12.
Edgar, king, collected the laws, ii. 231, 2.35.
Edible, flesh not. ii. 118.
Edict of Julianus against Christians, i. 176.
F^'itor's notes, i. 244.
Laucaticm, of youth, considerations on,
on custom and, i. 45 ; is custom
104
essay
young years,
i. 46 ; of priests, ii. 417 ; for preaching, ii. 427; ad-
vantages of, i. 167; of Alexander, i. 179.
Edward I., the first lawuiver amongst us, ii. 1C9;
crossed the pope's jurisdiction, ii. 390.
Edward II., cruel conduct to him, and his saying
thereon, i. 114.
Edward III., his reign visited with three mortalities,
ii. 245.
Edward IV., of high spirit, yet beautiful, i. 49.
Egerton, cause in which the chancellor accepted a
bribe, ii. 522.
Egg. white of its use, ii. 134 ; with spirits of wine, ii.
465 ; turnad into stone, ii. 463.
Ejgs, yolk of, very nourishing, ii. 15; their clarifying
quality, ii. 8.
Egypt, its excellent situation, ii. 228 ; the most ancient i
monarchy, ii. 228 ; two mighty returns of fortune
therein, ii. 228.
Egyptians, idols, i. 208, 212.
Elenches, i. 210.
Elephants, gestation of, ii. 102.
Elizabeth, CJneen, her learning without a parallel, i. 1 79,
283; at) instance of advantage of learned princes, i.
166, 179; beauty of, ii. 449 ; alters the religion, ii.
445; her clemency, ii. 446 ; her learning, ii. 446 ; her
tranquillity, ii. 445 ; her beneficence, ii. 446 ; ht>r ex-
I)enses, ii. 447 ; her piety, i. 398 ; prayers composed
by, i. 398 ; her fondness for the works of St. Augus-
tine, i. 398 ; her daily 'search of the Scriptures, i.
398 ; dislike of a p(im[)ous epitaph, i. 398 ; her im- j
provement of buildings, ii. 447 ; her conduct to con- |
spirators, ii. 445; disunion in praise of, ii. 445; re- ;
[•ort of treasonable designs of Dr. Lopez against,
ii. 216; blessings of the people under, ii. 246 ; her
conduct to Philip of Spain, ii. 258 ; attempts on life, |
bv whom maile, ii. 390 ; apophthegms, and anecdotes
ofand respecting, i 107. 108, 110, 111, 112, 120,123.
Ellesmere's, Chancellor, letter to the King touching
Lord Coke, ii. 499 ; objections to parts of Lord
Coke's reports, ii. .505.
Elocution, not to be neglected in philosophy, i. 170.
Eloquence, savouring of affectation or imitation unhe-
coining a king, i. 161 ; of accident, ii. 337; discre-
tii>n of speech more than eloquence, i. 40.
Ely. case of the isle of, ii. 528 ; questions and an-
swers iL 529.
Embalming, among O'ceks. ii. 104.
Embansies to foreign princes or states, ii. 382.
Emblem, and prenotion. i. 212.
Embroidery, not discerned by candleliglit, i. 45.
Embryo, destruction of, ii. 53.
Emission of spirits, ii. 125.
Empedocles, his delight in solitude, i. .34 ; his theory
of the substance tif the moon, ii. 585.
Emperors, advantages of learned, i. 177.
Empirics, why sometimes more successful than physi-
cians, i. 204.
Empire, essay of, i. 26.
Empson and Dudley, the people's curses rather than
any law brought their overthrow, ii. 230,
Enclosure of common, ii. 284.
j Eiulymion, or the favourite, i. 294.
England, tracts relating to, ii. 222 ; proposition con-
cerning amendment of laws of, ii. 229: offer of di-
gest of laws of, ii. 233 ; comparison of England and
Spain in the year 1588, ii. 212; an overmatch for
France, why, i. 38.
Enf;]and and Scotland, union of, ii, 452, 454,
Ensleficld, his cau.se, letter from Buckingham to tho
Lord Chancellor Bacon, touching ii. 524.
English language more rich for being mixed, ii. 230,
235 ; English least taxed of any nation in Europe,
ii. 253.
Enrolment, injunctions require, ii. 484.
Envy, essay of, i. 17; the canker of honour, i. 57 ;
how best extinguished, i. 57 ; accustom men to in-
cline unto those that are least in their way, i. 73.
Epaminondas, a great scholar and general, i. 164; an
swer of his to Pelo{)idas, i. 1 19 ; to a long speech of
the Lacedajmonians after their defeat at Leuctra,
i. 119.
Ephemera, ii. 93.
Epictctus, his saying, i. 233 ; reflections of, on death
i. 182 ; his saying what was the worst state of man
i. 76; saying of his. i. 121.
Epicures say that virtue is bonum theatrale. i. 7.3.
Epicurus, a poor saying of his, i. 18 ; his device of the
start of Attemus, i. 71 ; his opinion of the gods, i. 91.
Epidemical diseases, ii. 57.
Epimenides, his delight in solitude, i. 34.
Equinoctial, temperate heat under, ii. 59.
Ericthonius, or imposture, i. 301.
Ernest, Archduke of Austria, advice to treat with upon
the law of nations, as to the queen's subjects refug-
ing in his dominions conspiring against her person,
ii.2I5.
Errors in church controversy , ii. 414; calendar of
popular, i. 200 ; of times past a source of hope for
the future, i. 433; of learned men, i. 166. See
Learned Men.
Eryngium roots, their use, ii. 467.
R.schealors and feodaries repressed, ii. 276.
Escurial. scarce a very fair room in it, i. 150.
Espes, Don Guerres of, the King of Spain's ambassa-
dor in Eiitrland, discovered to be a chief instrumen
in the rebellion of the north, ii. 260.
Essays, epistle dedicatory of the first edition to Mi.
Anthony Bacon, i. 2; next ctlition, 1606, letter to
Henry, Prince of Wales, with the third edition, i. 'i
dedication of the third edition, 1612, to Sir John
Constable, knight, i. 3; next edition, 1613, i. 4;
next edition, 1625, i. 4 ; foreign editions of, i. 6 ;
dedication of to the Duke of Buckingham, i. 1.
EssHX, Earl of, apology for the, ii. 333 ; papers relat
ing to the, ii, 333; highly valued by Lord Bacon,
ii, 334 ; his liberality to Lord Bacon, ii. 334 ; ac-
knowledged as a great friend, ii. 334 ; ruin foretold
65G
INDEX.
in journey to Irelnnd, ii. 335 ; terms on which Ba-
con accepts the gift of a piece of land worth £1800,
ii. 334 ; IVIr. Bacon wishes not to he engaged against,
ii. 339 ; queen's conversation concerning, with Mr.
Bacon, ii. 340 ; invasion of Spain under, ii. 210;|
his treaty with the Irish rebels, ii. 21 1 ; the proceed- j
ings of the, ii. 342 ; gave queen displeasure by
leaving Ireland without her leave, ii. 342 ; matters;
laid to his charge, ii. 343 ; queen's letter to, ii. 34(5 ; ]
declarations of treasons of, ii. 348; queen's favour-
ite, ii. 348 ; a rebellious spirit, ii. 349 ; rebellious
plot of, ii. 3.56 ; n)akes himself friendly with Catho-
lics and Puritans, ii. 3.'54 ; his pretext of attempts
on his life, ii. 3.57 ; wanting in courage and foresight
ill his enterprises, ii. 358; goes forth with his troop
into the city, ii. 358 ; refreshes himself at sheriff
Smith's house, ii. 358; yields up his sword to the
lord lieutenant, ii. 359 ; his defence, ii. 300 ;
manner of his death, ii. .363; private execution of,
ii. 363 ; abstract of his confession, under his own
hand, ii. 374 ; his confession to three ministers, ii.
374.
I!«sex House, nobles collect at.ii. 357; riot at, ii. 357.
Illhelwold, Bishop of Winchester, his conduct in a
famine, i. 1 14.
Ether, three regions of — region of air, of planetary
heaven, of starry heaven, ii. 579 ; the outer body of,
not certain that it is diaphoiious, firm, and immuta-
ble, ii. 532; the opinion that it is the vehicle in
which the stars are carried, ii. 585.
Eternity of the sun, objected to, that innumerable
changes take place on its surface, and not in heaven
answered, ii. 584.
Eulogium on the king, ii. 266.
Eunuchs, voices of, ii. 33.
Euripides, saying of his, i. 115.
Europe, state of, i. 282. 388.
}]vacuation of the s[)irits, ii. 92.
Evaporation, use of to windy s[)irits, ii. 10.
Evidence, the effect of, given at the several arraign-
ments of the Earls of Essex, Southampton, the
Lord Steward, Sir C. Blunt, and Sir C. Davers, ii.
359; the lantern of justice, ii. 321.
Evil, colours of good and, i. 72.
Evils, in extreme ones, there are degrees, ii. 311.
Examination, the middle part of business, i. 32 ; for
holv orders, ii. 427 ; of the credit of witnesses, ii.
483, 484..
Examples, power of, ii. 435 ; of Antitheta, i. 217 ; of
Sophisma, i. 217; of Kedargutio, i. 217; of Rhe-
toric, i. 216.
Excellence of knowledge, and propagation of know-
ledge, i. 1 62.
Excommunicated, kings may be murdered if, ii. 314 ;
kings, Suarez's doctrine as to murdering, ii. 389,
390.
Excommunication of Queen Elizabeth, bill of, pub-
lished in London, ii. 254 ; consequences of it, ii.
254.
Excommunication, abuse of, ii. 428.
Excrescences of trees, ii. 84; of plants, &c., ii. 76.
Excusations, waste of time, i. 32.
Execution of the Earl of Essex, ii. 363.
Exercise, no body, natural or politic, healthy without,
I. 38 ; a just war the true exercise to a kingdom, i.
38 ; the prevailing help for the intellectual powers,
i. 106 ; five poins of exercise, i. 106; of the body,
li. 46.
Exile and abjuration, cases of, ii. 165.
Exility of the voice, or other sounds, ii. 31.
Exo8.sation of frujts.ii. 117.
Expense, es-^ay on, i. 35 ; extraordinary, to be limited
by tlie occasion, ordinary, by a nmn's estate, i. .35 ;
ought to be but half his receipts, i. 36 ; a man
should be wary in beginning a charge which will
continue, but in matters that return not may be
magnificent, i. 36,
Expenses of Elizabeth, ii. 447.
Experimental History, preparation for a Natural and,
iii. 426 ; history, iii. 434.
Experiments, want of in universities, i. 185 ; not to
be tried in states without urgent necessity or evident
utility, i, 182; in percolation, ii. 7; about weight
in air and water, ii. 463 ; on glass, ii. 457 ; for
profit, being some sudden thoughts of Lord Bacon,
ii. 464.
Exports, impositions on, vi. 45.
Extracting metals, ii. 400.
Exudation of plants, ii. 76.
Eye hath recovered sight after having been knocked
out, ii. 59.
Eyes, the Medes painted the, ii. 99 ; what comforts
the, ii. 132; experiments touching the, ii. 1 19.
Fabius, Lord Coke compared to, ii. 487.
Fable of Golden Chain, i. 195; of Cassandra, i. 287;
of Typhon, i. 287 ; of Cyclops, or terror, i. 288;
of Narcissus, or of self-love, i. 288 ; of Styx, or
leagues, i. 289 ; of Pan, or nature, i. 289 ; of (>u-
pid and Pan, i. 292; of Pan and Ceres, i. 292 ; of
Pan and Apollo, i. 292 ; of Pan and Echo, i. 292;
of Perseus, or war, i. 292 ; of Medusa, i. 292 ; of
the Grea;, or treasons, i. 293 ; of Endymion, i.
294; of the sister of the Giants, or fame, i. 294;
of Actseon and Pentheus, i. 294 ; of Or[>heus, or
philosophy, i. 295 ; of Ccelum, i. 296 ; of Proteus,
or matter, i 297 ; of Memnon, i. 297 ; of Titho.ius,
i. 298 ; of Juno's Suitor, i. 298 ; of Cupid, i. 298 ;
of Diomedes, i. 299 ; of Dedalus, i. 300 ; of Eric-
thonius, i. 301; of Deucalion, i. 301; of Nemesis,
i. 302; of Acheious, i. 302 ; of Dionysius, i. 303 ;
of Jupiter and Semele, i. 303 ; of Ataianta, i. 304 ;
of Scylla, i. 309 ; of Sphynx, i. 309 ; of Proser-
pina, i, 310 ; of Theseus, i. 310, 311 ; of Metis, i.
312; of the Sirens, i. 312.
Fables, i. 272; concerning poesy, i. 193; respecting
monarchy, i. 193; expounded by Machiavel, i. 193;
considered by Chrysippus, i. 193; of the Earth,
mother of Fame, i. 193 ; Bacon's opinion of, i. 272.
Fabricius, his answer to Pyrrhus, desiring him to re-
volt, i. 119.
Faces hut pictures where there is no love, i. 34,
Fascination, the art of imagination, i. 206.
Faction, essay on, i. 55 ; subdivided when the oppo-
site faction is extinguished, i. 55.
Faith, confession of, ii. 407.
Fallacies of man's min<l, i. 211.
Fall of man, induced by desire of perfect knowledge,
i. 17.5.
Falsehood, a disease of learning, i. 171.
Fame like a river, i. 56 ; flows from servants, i. 57 ;
the marshaling of honour, i. 58 ; fragment of essay
on. i. 62 ; the poet's aciount of it, i. 62 ; its force,
i. 62; may be only causa impulsiva. and not causa
constituens of virtue, i. 73 ; like antiquity, head
mnflaed, i. 189.
Fantastical learning,!. 169.
Fat, marrow more nourishing than, ii. 14 ; diffused in
flesh, ii. 89.
Fathers of the church, the learning of the, i. 176;
power over children, ii. 169; suspicion of then
children unfortunate, i. 27.
INDEX.
557
Faculties of man. i. Sf?.
Favourites, the l)fKt n-nicdy affainst ambitiouB men, i.
44; .)f kinu'8 chosen for their tiimplicitv. i. 294.
Fear of death miliKated by learnii)({, i. 182; cause of
the otVect of, ii. 14 ; its use, i. (58 ; the civilian's de-
finition of a legal fear, ii. 203 ; instances of wars
en account of the fear of the growing greatness of
nations, ii. 203.
Fears, Virgil's opinion of the causes and conquests of
all fears, i. 182.
F'ealhera, experiment touching the producing of, ii. 22 ;
colours of, Aristotle's opinion on the, ii. 7 ; what
causes in birds, ii. 7 ; altering the colour of, ii, 116.
Features, helps towards good in youth, ii. II.
Fees, reformation of, ii. 275 ; exacted put down, ii.
276 ; of lawyers, ii. 474.
Felicity breeds confidence and reputation, i. 46.
Felicities, of Elizabeth, by Bacon, i. 284.
Felons, employment proposed for, ii. 463.
Felony, cases of, ii. 163; the [)uni8hment, trial, and
proceedings in, ii. 164; ditto offelonia de se, ii. 164.
Female and male, difTerences between, ii. 117.
Feodaries, vexations of people by, ii. 27.'S.
Ferrera, Stephano de Gama, a Portuguese adherent to
Don Antonio, secretly won to the service of the
King of Spain, ii. 218 ; Louis Tinoco appointed to
confer with him on the reward to be given to Lopez
to |)oison Queen Elizabeth, ii. 218; Lopez commu-
nicates with him, signs Lopez, letters to the Count
de Fuentes, writes several other letters, ii. 219 ; dis-
covered to have intelligence with the enemy, ii. 219 ;
committed to prison, ii. 219; his note to Lopez in-
tercepted, ii. 220 ; his confession, ii. 220 ; confronts
Lopez, ii. 220.
Ferrers, Lord, his attainder, i. 318.
Foetus, nourishment of, ii. 22.
Fiat, Marquis, Lord Bacon's letter to him, with copy
of essays, edit. 162.5, i. 5, n.
Figs impoisoned on the tree by Livia, ii. 322.
Figures, ex[jeriment touching the figures of plants,
ii. 78.
Filuin labyrinthi, i. 96 ; a rudiment of the advance-
ment of learning, i. 8 ; also of the Novum Organum,
i. 96.
Filum medicinale, experiment touching, ii. 17.
Finances and receipts, one of the internal points of
separation with Scotland, ii. 146 ; considerations
touching them, ii. 148.
Fining metals, different modes of, ii. 460.
Fire, heat of, will vivify, ii. 93 ; invention of attributed
to Prometheus, i. 306 ; different heats of, ii. 90 ; and
time, ditfering operation of, ii. 4.5.
Fire-arms, cause of motion in, i. 414.
Fires, subterrany, ii. 54.
Firmament, theory of, i. 4)6.
Fish, pulp of, more nourishing than their flesh, ii. 14,
touching shell-fish, ii. 120; the cold nature of, ii.
102 ; from the sea put into fresh waters, ii. 94.
Fitzherbert's Natiira Brevium, a book of good worth,
but not of the nature of an institution, ii. 232.
Fitz Morrice, an Irish rebel, armed and sent to Ireland
by Philip of Spain in 1.579. ii. 260.
Fixation of bodies, experiment on the, ii. 108; and
volatility of metals, ii, 461, 462.
riaine. rise of water by means of, ii. 122 ; touching the
continuance of, ii. .55 ; commixture of with air, ii.
1 1 ; secret nature of, ii. 12 ; force of in midst and
sides, ii. 12; Vulcan compared with, ii. 12; differ-
ence between terrestrial and celestial, ii. 569; expan-
sion of the b(Hly of, may be estimated by probable
conie^ture, ii. 570.
Flammork, Thomas, excites an insurrotion in Corn-
wall, i. 360; defeated and executed, i. 36.3.
Flattery of great men by philosophers,!. 169; none
like a man's self, i. 35, 56.
Flatterers, description of, i. 56 ; the greatest enemies
of kings, i. 63.*
Fleas, how destroyed, ii. 92.
Flemings, commercial treaty with, i. 360.
Flesh, venomous quality of man's, ii. 10; fat diffused
in, ii. 89 ; edible and not edible, ii. 1 18.
Flies get a durable sepulchre in aml)er. ii. 24.
Flowers, experiment touching compound, ii. 66 ;
sweeter in the air than hand, i. 51 ; account of them,
i. 51.
Fly on the wheel, ^sop's fable of the, ii. 269.
Flyine in the air, ii. 122; of unequal bodies in the
air, ii. 107.
Fluxes stayed by astringents, ii. 467.
Foliambe, Mr. F. his case, letter concerning, from
Buckingham to Lord C. Bacon, ii. 524.
Foliatanes, order of, put down by the pope, ii. 14.
Followers and frien<ls, essay on. i. 53.
Fomentation or bath receipt, ii. 469.
Food, experiments touching the mest nourishing meats
and drinks, ii. 14.
Forcing plants, mode of, ii. 464.
Foreign merchandise, ii. 385.
Foreign states, embassies to, ii. 382.
Foreign wars, badness of, ii. 383.
Forfeitures of the Star Chamber, ii. 388.
Forma pauperis, defending in, ii. 485.
Formalists, their shifts to make superfices seem bulk,
i. 33.
Formation of features in youth, ii. 11.
Forms the true object of knowledge, i. 197 ; of induc-
tion in logic defective, i. 208.
Fortitude, the virtue of adversity, i. 14.
Fortune, faber quisque fortuna; su», censure of that
saying, i. 104; rising in, seldom amends the minil,
i. 104; essay on, i. 46 ; the two fortunate proper-
ties, to have but little of the fool and not too much
of the honest, i. 46; fortune to be honoured, i. 46;
ol learned men, discredit to learning from, i. 166.
Fourteenth year a kind of majority, ii. 489.
Founders of states, first in honour, i. 58.
Fox. trusted by Henry VII. i. 29; inferior, i. 54; a
sure friend better help than a man's own wit, i. 75;
Bishop of Exeter, i. 319.
Fragile and tough bodies, ii. 114.
France, state of, under t.'harles VIII., i. 326; divisions
of, in the time of Queen Elizabeth, ii. 247.
Francis I., his opinion of a lie, ii. 298; used to walk
disguised, i. 112.
Freedoms, several, an internal point of separation with
Scotland, ii. 146 j considerations touching them,
ii. 148.
French wiser than they seem. i. 33 ; their peasants do
not make good soldiers, i. 37 ; disease, origin of, iu
107; law of duels, ii. 297.
Friar Bacon's head, ii. 338.
Friars, observation of Machiavel on the poverty of,
i. 166.
Friend, how valued by honest minds, ii. 333; danger
of a false, ii. 376; all great men want a true,
ii. 480.
Friends. Co mus's saying of perfidious frien<ls. i. 14.
Frieiid.ship. Ess.iy on. i. 33 ; without friends the world
is a wilderness, i. 33; principal fruit of, tijc liisonargo
of the heart, i. 33; no receipt opetieth inc heart but
a tnie friend, i. 33; communication to a frienci
redoubles joys and halves griefs, i. 31 ; healthful for
Has
558
INDEX.
the unaerslnnJinff, i. 34 ; a friend's liberty the best
remedy against flattery, i. 35 ; the last fruit of, is aid,
i. 35; many things which a man cannot do himself
may be done by a friend, i. 35 ; Essay on Followers
and Friends, i. 53 ; little friendship in the world,
and that betvyecn superior and inferior, i. 54. ,
Friendships, bond of counsel in, i. 168.
Frosberg, the German, his threats, ii. 390.
Fruits, some, sweet before ripe, ii. 85 ; and plants, |
curiosities about, ii. 70 ; maturation of ii. 48 ; how i
to keep, ii, 83 ; melioration of, ii. 62 ; experiment j
touching compound, ii. 66; cxossation of, ii. 117;
duicoration of, ii. 118; operation of time upon,
ii. 119.
Fruitful, upon making vines more, ii. 13.
Fruilfuincss of soil, greatness too often ascribed to,
ii. 222.
Fuel, cheap experiment touching, ii. 105 ; that con-
sumeth little, ii. 104.
Fuentes, Count de, Andrada sent over to him, by
Lopez, about a reward for poisoning Queen Eliza-
beth, ii. 218 ; sends for Tinoco, to confer with An-
drada, and to pass to Lopez and to Ferrera, ii. 218.
Fulgentio, Father, Lord Bacon's letter to, with some
account of his writings, i. 5.
Furnace, wind, to separate the metal, ii. 460.
Gabato, Sebastian, his voyage to America, i. 368.
Galba, his death, i. 12 ; Tacitus's saying of him, i. 20 ;
undid himself by a speech, i. 21.
Galen, i. 198 ; full of ostentation, i. 57.
Galletyle, ii. 457.
Games, Olympian, i. 205 ; of recreation, i. 205 ; of
Prometheus, i. 308,
Gardens, when profitable, ii. 384 ; essay on, i. 51 ; the
purest of pleasures, i. 51 ; plan of for all months, i.
51 ; royal, ought not to be under thirty acres, i. 51 ;
apt division for them, i. 51.
Ciardincr's, Bishop, saying that he would be a bishop
one hundred years after his death, ii. 230 ; saying
of the Protestants, i. 108.
(Jardiner, Sir Robert, praise of, ii. 477.
(Jarlic, preparation of ii. 466.
(jrarrisons on the borders of Scotland, suggestions as to
the removal of ii. 143.
(Jaunt, retreat of ii. 208.
Gellius, A., his saying of those who are constantly
making distinctions, i. 33.
(ieneralities, empty and barren, i. 215.
<rcneration of living creatures in the womb, ii. 101.
(Jeneration by copulation, ii. 12.3.
(ieneration.s, history of, or nature at large, five divisions
of ii. 574.
Germination, experiments touching the acceleration of,
ii. 60 ; retardation of, ii. 61. >
(irermany, stale of during the time of Queen Elizabeth,
ii. 248.
(Jhent, ii. 451.
Giddiness, causes of ii. 99.
Crilbert, Earl of Shrewsbury, ii. 316.
(lilbert, his theory of a " vacuum coacervatum," i. 417.
Gilbertus, his theory that stars are solid bodies in
vacuo except surrounded by an atmosphere, ii. 578 ;
his observations that heavy bodies carried a distance
trom the earth, are gradually divested of their motion
towards bodies beneath, ii. 586.
Glass, rusted by women looking upon it, ii. 127; ex-
periments on, ii. 457; materials of ii. 104; sand of
• the nature of ii. 105; as to metals incorporating
with, ii. 459.
Glasses, musical, ii. 8, 33 ; for burning powder, ii. 27.
Globe, intellectual description of, li. 573.
Globes, appearance of at a distance, ii. 121.
Gloriovis men, their character, i. 57.
Glory, essay on vain, i. 57 ; the spur of virtue, i, 73.
Glowworm, experiment touching the, ii. 9.5.
God, the sparkle of our creation light, whereby men
acknowledge a Deity still burns within atheists, i.
70; the will of God revealed by the Scriptures and
by the creatures, i. 71 ; is only self-like, i. 82; all
knowledge, especially natural philosophy, tends to
magnify his glory, i. 98.
Godfrey's'case, ii. 528, 530.
Gold, making of ii. 457 ; most flexible and tensible,
heaviest and closest of m-etals, ii. 50 ; experiment on
making of ii. 49 ; will incorporate with silver and
other metals, ii. 459 ; the nature of ii. 50 ; will not
incorporate with iron, ii. 459 ; melteth easily, ii. 108.
Gold and silver, disproportion in price of, ii. 282.
Good, active, i. 221 ; passive, i. 221.
Good, colours of good and evil, i. 72.
Goodness and goodness of nature, essay of i. 21.
Goodwin, Sir Francis, ii. 266.
Goose's liver a deliciicy among the Romans, ii. 14.
Gorge, Sir Ferdinaiido, confession of, ii. 367 ; second
confession of ii. 367.
Gorgons, i. 293.
Government of bishops, ii. 423.
Government of bishops sole enemy, ii. 423.
Government, civil, the temper of it, to keep subjects in
good heart, and not as servile vassals, a point of true
greatness in the state, ii. 223.
Government of the church, i. 243.
Government, i. 228. 238 ; where deficient, i. 238 ; its
four pillars, religion, justice, counsel, and treasure,
i. 22 ; nourish virtues grown, but do not much mend
the seed, i. 46 ; observations on, ii. 443 ; by tho
weak unnatural, ii. 443 ; of Turks, ii. 438 ; of wo-
men, ii. 443.
Governments have excelled under learned governors,
i. 165; the best like the best crystals, ii. 4'^«
Governors, advantage of learned, i. 177; dignity of
depends on the dignity of the governed, i. 182.
Gout, receipt for the, ii. 469 ; breakfast a preservative
aeainst, ii. 466 ; cure for the. ii. 17.
Gradations, fine, alternate into distinct transists by na-
ture, ii. 579 ; Sun mascula; in a germ of starry
matter, ii. 579; .lupiter, satellites of ii. 579.
Grajcia, the best princes of were the most learned, L
162.
Grafting vines upon vines, ii. 88.
Grafting plants, ii. 62, 64.
Grafting trees, ii. 464.
Grains of youth, ii. 466.
Grammar, its uses, i. 213.
Grants against law, ii, 473.
Grants, staying of at the great seal, ii. 473.
Granson, battle of ii. 157, 226.
Grapes, how to keep, ii. 86.
Graveling, Spanish Armada beaten at, ii. 209.
Gravity, experiment touching, ii. 12 ; history of the
expansion and conjunction of in the same body, ii.
565.
Gray, Lord, Spaniards defeated in Ireland by, ii. 206 ;
j takes Fort del Or, ii. 207.
1 Grese treasons, i. 293.
j Greame, Sir Richard, his cornet the only Englishmai.
I killed at the battle of Kinsale, ii. 212.
; Great Instauration of Lord Bacon, iii. 329.
Greatne-ss, of a state requires a fit situation, ii. 222,
I 228 ; consists in population and biee I of men, ii.
1 222 ; in the valour of the people, ii. 222 ; that every
INDEX.
55'J
common sutijert be fit to make a Rol<lier, ii. 223 ;
in governini'iit, to keep sulijectu in good heart, and
not urt servile vassals, ii. 'Z'Z'S; in the conimundment
of the sea, ii. 223.
(jfre.itness of Britain, discourse on, ii. 222; in measur-
ing greatness too much ascribed to largeness of
territory, ii. 222; to riches, ii. 222; to soil and
-ommoilitics, ii. 222 ; to strength uf towns, ii.
222.
<ircat Britain, history of, i. 386.
(ireuiie, to take t)ut 8j>ots of, ii. 22.
Greek philosophers, excellences and defects of, i. 299 ;
their systems of niitural philosophy, i. 42C.
Greek philosophy, i. 299.
Greenvil, Sir Kiihard, his memorable defence of the
Revenge, ii, 210.
Gregory I., Pope, censured for obliterating the memory
of the heathen, i. 176.
Grecian idols, i. 207.
Grecians, their and the alchymi-sfs' philosophy all that
is received, i. 79 ; what they knew, i. 80 ; the Egy{)-
tians' remark on them, i. 120.
<Jrenada, conquest of, i. 344.
(Jrevil, !Sir Fulk, saying of his, i. 1 18, 120.
Grief, cau.se and effect of, ii. 96.
Grievances, mode of complaint of, ii. 286.
Ground, composts and helps of, ii. 79.
Growth and stature, acceleration of, ii. .53.
Groyne, the Spanish Armada sets forth out of it and
driven back, ii. 209.
Guicciardine, Francis, a wise writer of history, ii.
257; opinion of the grandfather of Philip of Spain,
ii. 2.57.
Guinea-pepper, causes sneezing, ii. 127.
Guise, Duke of, saying concernmg, ii. 334; Duke of,
ii. 448.
Guise, th;it family the authors of the troubles in Frat»ce
and Srotland, ii. 257; their actions, ii. 257.
(hnn of trees is the juice straining through, ii. 7.
(juni tragacanth, d'lssolution of, ii. 465.
Gums have sweet odour from being strained, ii. 8.
Gunpowder, force of, to what ascribed, ii. 11 ; effects
produced by the invention of, ii. 431.
Hackkt, a fanatic, ii. 250 ; saying of a woman as he
passed to execution, ii. 250.
Racket, Dr., one of the Latin translators of the Essays,
i. 5.
H;.ir on beasts, what causes, ii. 7.
Hairs, producing of, of divers colours, ii. 22; altering
the colour of, ii. 1 16,
Hannibal's fear of Fabius and Marcellus, i. 112; a
remark of his upon Fabius, i. 1 19.
Hanno's answer to the Roman senators, i. 119.
Hanshve's cause, bribe accepted in, by the lord chan-
cellor, ii. 523.
Harmony, what constitutes, ii. 25; when sweetest and
best, ii. 38 ; and empire, energies of, borne by Pan,
i. 29 1 .
Hartshorn, good for agues and infections, ii. 91.
Hasiy selling as disadvantageable as interest, i. 36.
Hatton, Lord (chancellor, witty saying of his, i. 112.
Hawkins. Sir John, his and Sir Francis Drake's voyage
to the West Indies unfortunate, ii. 212 ; their deaths,
ii. 212.
Hayward's, Dr., History of the Deposing of Richard
If.. Bacon's answer to Queen Elizabeth thereon, i.
111.
Health, of body, i. 202; chambers of, i. 267; new
advices upon, ii. 468 ; essay on the regimen of, i.
39 ; a precept for long lasting, i. 39.
Healing of wounds, experiment on, ii. 89.
Hearing, displeasure of, ii. 93 ; hindering or helping
of, ii. 44; when prayed on bill and answer, ii. 483^
precedence given to lawyers by descent, ri. 474.
Heat, under the equinoctial, ii. 59 ; effect of on liquors,
ii. 47 ; the sun causeth his most vehement heats
whilst in Leo, and why, ii. 139 ; qualification of by
moisture, ii. 90; under earth, ex[)eriment touching,
ii. 122; experiment touching the power ot", ii. 23;
against the waste of the body by, ii. 467 ; and time,
like operations of, ii. 45 ; table of degrees or com-
parative instances of heat, iii. 379.
Heats, great and early ones, danger of, ii. 109 ; several
working the same effect, ii. 1 18.
Heathens mistaken in sujjposing the world an image
of God, i. 194.
Heavenly bodies, theory of the matter composing them,
i. 416; theory of their motions, i. 421 ; hi>ti)ry of,
should only embrace phenomena and not dogmas,
ii. 574 ; detailed statement of, ii. 576 ; when the
substance is different from that of this lower orb,
ii. 580; change in, ii. 581 ; some instances of, ii.
582 ; not to be ascribed to atmospheric errors, ii.
583 ; motion of, not evidence of their eternity, ii.
583 ; may act on one another, ii. 583 ; that straggle
from experience, .Aristotle's theory that they are not
suliject to heat, ii. 584.
Heavens, rapid motion of, without noise, ii. 26 ; sur-
prising changes and anomalies take place therein,
ap[)arent from the appearance of new stars, ii. 582
Heavy and light, history of, iii. 465.
Hebrew mysteries, origin of the fuble of Pan, i. 290.
Hebrews, their diligence about sounds, ii. 35 ; com
monwealth, justice in the gate of the, ii. 508.
Hector, Dr., his saying to tlie London dames, i. T8.
Helps for intellectual powers, published by Rawley, in
his Resuscitatio, i. 6.
Helvetian name, no small band to knit their confeuera-^
cies the faster, ii. 141.
Helwissa, confession of. ii. 317.
Hemlock, taking off the form of execution of capital
offenders in Athens, ii. 85.
Hemp, advantage of planting, ii. 334 ; prophecy on,
with respect to England, i. 43.
Henry IlL of France, death of, by murder, ii. 390.
Henry IV. of France, murdered, ii 390.
Henry V., his success wonderful, but wanted con-
tinuance, ii. 245.
Henry VI., his prophecy of Henry VII., i. 43.
Henry VII. the only blemish of his reign the multitude
of penal laws, ii. 236; hi.story of, by Bacon, noticed
in a letter to the king, i. 274 ; depressed his nobili-
ty, i. 28 ; in his greatest business imparted himself
to none but Morton and Fox, i. 29; his device re-
specting farms, i. 37; was a suspicious, but a stout
man, i. 40 ; claims under Edward the C(mfessor, i.
315; accession to the crown, i. 314 ; ditliculties of
his title, i. 315 ; entry into London, i. 316 ; his coro-
nation, i. 317; holds his first Parliament, i. 317;
attainder of his enemies, i. 318; his marriage, i.
319; conspiracy of Simnell, i. 320 ; defeats the rebels
at Newark, i. 324 ; causes the queen to be crowned,
i. 325 ; character as a lawgiver, i. 335 ; his iniquitous
mode of extorting money, i. 374; his treaty of
marriace with .Margaret f.l' Savoy, i. 380; derline
of his health, i. 380; his death, at Richmond, i.
381 ; character of. i. 381 ; his love of peace, hu
saying upon it, i. 381.
Henry VIII. authorized by Parliament to name com-
missi(mers to purge the canon law, ii. 231, 23£ ;
his accession, i. 385 : character of. i. 385.
560
INDEX.
Henry, Prince of Wales, i. 284 ; praised hy Bacon, i.
•104 ; his death, i. 404 ; his character, i. 404.
Heraclides, his opinion of the universe, ii. 576. j
lleraclitus, his saying, i. 3.5, 122 ; his censure of men's !
conceits, i. 173 ; the two opinions of a book of his 1
not now extant, ii. 138 ; his theory discussed, i. 439. !
Herl'ert, Mr. Secretary, sent to Essex House, with '
message from the queen, ii. 356.
Herbert, dedication to, ii. 431.
Herbs, some soils put forth odorate, ii. 128 ; and trees, !
experiment touching the lasting of, ii. 78 ; on making
them medicinable, ii. 69.
Hereditary succession, ii. 424.
Heresy, offence of, ii. 165; of Adamites, ii. 443.
Heresies, meditations on, i. 71 ; and schisms, the
greatest scandals, i. 12.
Heretic, converted by the king, i. 372 ; Vorstius, a
celebrated, li. 306.
Heretics, by their morality insinuate against God, i. 7ft.
Heretical religion, and fabulous philosophy springs
from the ^.ommixture of both, i. 195.
Herillus's opinion revived by the Anabaptists, i. 220.
Hermaphrodites, ii. 82.
Hero, explanation of an altar described by him, ii. 570.
Hethrington, David, declaration of, ii. 366.
Hialas, Peter, brings proposals for the marriage of
Prince Arthur and a princess of Spain, i. 364 ; sent
ambassador to Scotland, i. 364.
Hiccough, experiment touching the, ii. 90.
Hierarchy, degree of, i. 175.
Hierogly()hics and gestures, i. 212.
Hippias's dispute with Socrates on his sordini instances,
i. 188.
Hippocras, how clarified, ii. 8.
Hippocrates narrated special cases of his patients, i.
203 ; rule for dress in summer and winter, ii. 16.
His'c-y, civil, by Bacon, i. 273 ; of Great Britain, i. 386 ;
of Britain, i. 280 ; of Henry VII., i. 314 ; of Henry,
' opinion of. i. 277; appendices of, i. 192; of the
church militant, i. 192; civil, i. 189, 191 ; of crea-
tures, perfection of, i. 187 ; marvels, deficiency of, i.
187; uses of, i. 188; arts, is deficient, i. 188; cre-
dulity of, ecclesiastical history an example of, i. 171 ;
deficiencies of, i. 189; ecclesiastical, i. 191; eccle-
siastical mixed with fable, i. 171 ; just aiid perfect,
i. 189; literary, deficiency of, i. 187; uses of, ii.
187; natural, and division of, i. 187; deficiency of,
i. 188 ; of mechanics neglected, i. 188 ; of mechanics
assists natural philosophy,!. 188; natural, instances
of fabulous matter in, i. 171 ; the basis of natural
philosophy, ii. 558 ; of prophecy deficient, i. 191 ; to
be done with wisdom, sobriety, and reverence, or not
at all, i. 192 ; relates to the memory, i. 187 ; different
kinds of, natural, civil, ecclesiastical, and literary, i.
187; varieties of, i. 190; of providence, judgments,
&c., i. 192; answering to memory in the mind ef
man, i. 192; called narrations, i. 189; called chro-
nicles, i. 189.
Histories make men wise, i. 55.
Holland, our alliance with, ii. 38.3.
Holies, Sir .John, charge against for scandal, ii. 307.
Holy orders, examination for, ii, 427.
Holy war, ii. 435 ; advertisement touching, ii. 436 ;
extent of, ii. 440.
Homer, Alexander's admiration of, i. 179.
Homer's verses, prosperous men's fortunes compared
to, i. 197,225.
Homicide, involuntary, ii. 297; Roman law of, ii. 297.
Homonymi.T, cases of iteration to be purged away in
reducing the common law, ii. 23-2.
Honest mind, value set on a friend by an, ii. 333
Honey, experiment touching, ii. 116.
Honour, true, of a strong composition, ii. 302 ; the
king is the fountain of, ii. 297 : its three things, i.
44 ; and reputation of, essay on, i. 57; the king is
the fountain of, i. 63 ; the spur of virtue, i. 73 ; the
saying of Consalvo as to, ii. 299,
Honours of the ancients to eminent men in civil merit,
i. 177.
Honours among the Romans, human, heroical, and
divine, i. 177.
Hope, the portion of great men, i. 180; meditations on
earthly, i. 68.
Horns, the renewing of, ii. 101.
Horses' teeth, ii. 101.
Hospital, divers have but the name, and are only
wealthy benefices in respect of the mastership, ii.
239 ; a number of hos|>itals, with competent endow-
ments, more relief to the poor than one hospital of an
exorbitant greatness; ii. 240 ; houses of rt'iief and
correction commended, as mixed hospitals, where the
impotent is relieved and the sturdy buckled to work,
ii. 241.
House of Commons, power of ii. 380.
House of Peers, the power of, ii. 380.
Houses, use is preferable to uniformity, i. 49 ; ill air,
ways, markets, and neighbours make an ill seat, i. 49.
Houses of husbiuidry, law respecting, i. 349.
Howard, Lord Henry, his conversation with the king,
i. 123.
Hugh of Bordeaux, i. 199.
Humanity, (see human philosophy,) i. 201.
Human knowledge concerns the mind, i. 205.
Human nature, capacity of, i. 201.
Human philosophy, i. 201; division of, i. 201 ; man
as an individual, i. 201 ; as a member of society,
i. 201.
Humiliation, Christian's duty, ii. 488; necessity of
man's feeling, ii. 486.
Humility of Solomon, i. 176.
Husks, most seeds leave their, ii. 348.
Hurts, judgment of (he cure of, ii. 379.
Hutton, Justice, speech to, on his being made justice
of common pleas, ii. 478.
Hylas, story of, ii. 31.
Hypocrisy draws near to religion for hiding itself,
i. 76.
Hypocrites, meditations on, i. 69 ; the difference be-
tween them and heretics, i. 69 ; Dr. Laud's saying
of them, i. 122.
Ic-\Rrs's wings, comparison drawn, ii. 335.
Ice, turning water into, ii. 10.
Idolatry, degrees of ii. 438.
Idols, of the Egyptians, i. 207; Grecians, i. 207; of
the mind, make men churlish, i. 166.
Ignorance, our Saviour's first show of power to subdue,
i. 176; makes men churlish and mutinous, i. 166;
inconvenience of, i. 182 ; and prejudice, ii. 415.
Illustration, love of, i. 279.
Images are said to fix the cogitations, i. 206.
Imaginary sciences, i. 199.
Imagination, how to be entertained, i. 131 ; cures af-
fected by the. ii. l.'^6 ; force of. ii. 124; force of imi-
tating that of the sense, ii. 107; effect of on the
minds and spirits of men, ii. 129; poesy relates to
the. i. 187 ; fable of Ixion as to, i. 16.b ; confederacy
of science with the, i. 172; fascination the art of,
i. 206 ; how to raise and fortify the, i. 206 ; com-
mandment of reason over the, i. 206 ; power of on
the body, i. 202.
Immateriate virtues, emission of from the mii.ds of
INDEX.
501
men.ii. 129; touching the transmission anJ influx
of. ii. 1 24.
imix-achnn-nt must l>c by oath, ii. 289.
[ni|>ois(ininji; by odours, ii. I '27.
Irii[Hnsoiiment, offV'tice of, ii. 308.
Importation of fon-ign commodities, advice upon, ii. 386.
lm|i(>rts, impositions on, ii. 278.
Impositions on imports and exports, ii. 278; on mer-
chandises, argument concmiinf?, ii. 278 ; intermis-
8i(m of, from Richard II. to Queen Mary, ii 281.
Impostors, inechtations on, i. 70 ; its several kinds of
im()osturf, i. 70.
Imposture and credulity, concurrence between, i. 171.
Impression, a branch of human philosophy, i. 202.
Imprisonment, for contempt may !« discharged when,
ii. 484 ; for contempts, ii. 480.
Improper conduct of clergy, ii. 414.
Improjiriations, ii. 429.
Impulsion, ex| eriments touching:, ii. 103.
Inanimate bodies, sounds in, ii. 35.
Incension, use of to windy spirits, ii. 268.
Inclination, men's thoughts accord with, i. 45.
Incorporation of metals, uses of, ii. 456.
Incurable, a wise physician will consider whether his
patient be incurable, ii. 17.
Induction by nature, better than as described in logic,
i. 20S ; of logicians, errors of, i. 208.
Indian wealth, advice concerning, ii. 387.
Indian maize, its spirit of nourishment, ii. 15; its use,
ii. 467.
Indians, their self-sacrifice by fire, i. 46.
Indies, the greatness of Spain, but an accession to such
as are masters by sea, ii. 201, 214.
Induction, what form of, should be introduced, i. 434.
Induration of bodies, ii. 20; by assimilation, ii. 21 ;
by sympathy, ii. 1 16 ; of metals, ii. 461, 462.
Infections, transmission of, ii. 125.
Infectious diseases, experiment on, ii. 46.
Infusions, experiments touching, in liquor and air, ii 9.
Influxion, divine, i. 206.
Informers, abuses of common, ii. 236 ; recommendation
to appoint an olFicer over them, ii. 236.
Injunction, for staying suits at common law, ii. 481 ;
upon defendant's confession, ii. 472.
Injunctions, as to granting, ii. 472 ; as to making, ii.
474 ; to be enrolled, ii. 484 ; against waste, ii. 481 ;
for possession, ii. 481 ; not granted or stayed on pri-
vate petition, ii. 480; for stay of suits, ii. 482 ; not
granted on mere priority of suit, ii. 480.
Ink, cuttle, experiment touching, ii. 100.
Innovations in the church, precaution to be used of,
ii. 378; in the laws, ii. 513; essay of, i. 32.
Inquisition, a bulwark against the entrance of the truth
of God, ii. 248 ; concerning the winds, iii. 438.
Insecta, experiments touching the, ii. 100.
Inspissation of the air, effect of, ii. 127.
Instauration, the great, iii. 329 ; notice of, i. 276.
Instinct of bees and ants, ii. 93.
Integrity of learned men, i. 168.
Intellect, scaling ladder of the, iii. 519.
Intellectunlisis, censure of their errors, i. 173.
Intellectual jKnvers, <liscourse concerning helps for
them, i. 104 ; have fewer means to work upon them
than the will <y body, i. 106; exercise the prevail-
ing help, i. 106
Interlocutory, orders as to, ii. 472.
Interpretation of scripture, i. 241 ; of nature, i. 422.
Interpreter, qualities of the, ii. 543; duties of the,
ii. 544.
Interrogatories, when allowed, ii. 483.
Invasive war, ii. 288.
Vol. III.— 71
Inventions, sometimes the cause of richen, i. 42 ; in-
j ventory of, now in use, i. 88 ; the race of, hindereij
by the motives for the search of knowledge, i. 97 ;
by chance, represented by himting CereH, i. 292 ;
new, how found, i. 199; very imperfect, i. 422;
modes of, in use, reviewed, i. 429; effects priwluced
by the invention of printing, gunpowder, and the
I compass, i. 431.
I Invention of two kinds, i. 207 ; arts and sciences defi-
cient, i. 207; want of, in professors, i. 174.
Invention and discovery, hopes and proRp«'cts of their
proiiress, i. 431 ; from the operation of time, i. 431 ;
from the power of chance, i. 432 ; from transferring
and applying inventions already known, i. 433 ; from
the union of the emi>irical an(l philosojihical mean*
of arts and sciences, i. 433 ; from the errors of times
past, i.433 ; means of performance, general maxims
concerning, i. 433.
Invention and memory, divorce between, i. 186.
Inventors of arts were, by the ancients, consecrated
amongst the gods, i. 177.
Inventors consecrated by the ancients, i. 207.
Iphicrates, saying of his, i. 115; his opinions of, and
method of treating with the Laceda;monian war, ii.
204, 250.
Ipichrates, the Athenian, i. 289.
Ireland twice invaded by the Spaniards, ii. 206; in-
vaded by the Spaniards in 1580, ii. 207; reduction
to civility by King James, ii. 285; civilization of, ii.
477; against the new boroughs in, ii. 514; how to
act with, in religious matters, ii. 477 ; directions for
governing, ii. 477 ; its savage state, ii. 452 ; letters
to Sir George Villiers relating to. ii. 190, 191 ; con-
siderations touching the plantation in, ii. 183; the
queen's service in, ii. 188 ; letter to Secretary Ceijl
after defeat of the Spanish forces in Ireland, invit-
ing him to embrace the care of reducing that king-
dom to civility, ii. 187 ;• the roots of troubles of Ire-
land, ii. 190.
Iron, a quality of it, ii. 138 ; commands gold, ancient
wise men's saying, ii. 285 ; a brave commotlity in
new plantations, i. 41 ; weight of, in water, ii. 464.
Iron and flint, union of, ii. 455.
Iron and brass, union of, ii. 456.
Irresolutioti, examples against, i. 165.
Irrigation and watering ground, ii. 80.
Isabella, Queen, her saying about Rood forms, i. 56.
Isburgh, Charles V. forced from, li. 200, 213.
Italy, state of, during the time of Queen Elizabeth,
ii. 248.
Iterations, loss of time excepting iterating the state of
the <juestion, i. 32.
Ixion, fable of, as to imacinativeness, i. 165; fable of,
a figure of fabulous learning, i. 199.
Jails, infectious smell of, ii. 126.
James, Saint, his saying, i. 35.
James, King, advice to country gentlemen to go from
London, i. 124; anecdotes of, i. 124.
James I. and Edward III., comparison drawn, ii. 26S.
Jason, the Thessalian. a saying of his, i. 115; his in-
tended expedition into Persia put a stop to by Inti
death, ii. 223.
Jaundice, medicines for the, ii. 136.
Jesting, when disgraceful, ii. 486.
Jests, certain things ought to be privileged from i. 40
Jesuits the greatest exactors, ii. 254.
Jesuits, their precepts and use, i. 30 : praised for awak-
ing human learning, i. 98; Charles's, King of Swe-
den, conduct toward them, i. 1 12 ; principle of pu-
nishment of, ii. 291.
b62
INDhX.
Jewel, Bishop of Salisbury, his last worJs, ii. 265 ; the
construction of them l)y the ('atholics, ii. 265.
J lb, the book of, preijnant with natural philosophy, i.
175; full of natural philosophy, i. 98.
Jonson, Benjamin, one of the Latin translators of the
essays, i. 5,
Jones, Sir William, speech to, on being made Lord
Chief Justice of Ireland, ii. 476.
Jotham, parable of ii. 270.
Journals and annals commended by Tacitus, i, 190.
Jovinianus, how death of caused, ii. 127.
Joy, effects of, ii. 96.
Joy of Pius Quintus, ii. 1.35.
Judah and Issachar's blessing will never meet, i. 37.
Judge, grants of, ii. 41.3 ; a popular one a deformed
thing, ii. 475.
Judges fall upon their knees to the king, ii. 495; the
duties of, defined, ii. 478; duties of ii. 475 ; direc-
tions how and what they are to study, ii. 478 : their
office, i. 58 ; the four parts of, i. 58 ; strange that
they should have noted favourites, i. 59 ; necessity of
their knowing the law, ii. 295 ; their stay upon cir-
cuit, ii. 379 ; choice of good, ii. 378 ; as to a charge
to be made by the king or lord chancellor, ii. 379 ;
SirE. Coke's letter, ii. 507 ; letter to the king in the
case of commendams, ii. 492 ; as to the Welsh, ii.
379 ; their honour the king's whom they represent,
ii. 378; king's admonition to the, in case of com-
mendams, ii. 493; people not competent, ii. 419;
holding their places during his majesty's pleasure,
ii. 499 ; lines and portraitures of good, ii. 478 ; Sir
F. "Bacon to the, ii. 515 ; puisne, when they should
be preferred, ii. 379.
Judges of circuits, directions to, ii. 475.
Judgment at common law, persons suing to be relieved
against to enter into good bond, ii. 472.
Judgment, ii. 210; a minister should not trust wholly
in his own nor in servants', ii. 377 ; arts of, i. 210 ;
where deficient, i. 211.
Judicial charges and tracts, ii. 471.
Juggler, tricks of a, ii. 130.
Julianus's edict against Christians, i. 176.
Julius Ca3sar, an instance of excellence in arms and
learning, i. 164; forsook eloquence for the wars,
i. 2.34.
Julius IIL. Pope, his apophthegms, i. 108.
Juno's suitor, or baseness, i. 298.
Jurisdiction of the pof^e confined hy Edward L, ii. 390.
Jurisdiction of the courts, ii. 379 ; of Court of Chancery,
ii. 471.
Jury of the verge, directions to, ii. 290.
Justice, commutative and distributive, coincidence be-
tween, and arithmetical and geometrical proportion,
i. 194.
Justice, chief, his behaviour to deputies, ii. 477.
Justice, the lantern of, ii. 321; the ordinary courts
of, ii. 380 ; delays of torture, ii. 487 ; ordinances for
the right administration of in chancery, ii. 469 ; ex-
amples of, for terror, ii. 380 ; next to religion, ii.
378 ; panegyric on King James's administration of,
ii. 306.
Justice and protection necessary for the recovery of the
hearts of the Irish, ii. 189 ; summary justice recom-
mended for an interim, ii. 189.
Justices of peace, choice of, ii. 380.
Justinian's reduction and recompilation of the civil
laws, ii. 231, 235.
Justs, their glories chiefly in the chariots, i. 45.
Kkepeh, lord, letter from Buckingham to the, ii. 521 ;
declaration of, ii. 370.
Kermes or scarlet powder, ii. 99.
Kernels laid at the roots make plants prosper, ii. \o,
better reason of, ii. 1 3.
Kernes, their licentious idleness one of the roots of the
Irish troubles, ii. 190.
j Kildare, Earl of, supports the counterfeit Plantagenet,
i i. 321 ; slain near Newark, i. 325.
King James's correction of Lord Bacon's MSS., i.
277; letter to the, on legal proceedings, ii. 512;
eulogium on, ii. 272 ; compared to Nerva and
Trajan, ii. 272 ; answer to, from Gorhamhury,
touching Lord Coke and Buckingham, ii. 519;
letter from Lord C. Bacon to, touc-hing patents, ii.
527; duty of i. 222 ; duties of professions, i. 223;
of affections, i. 223; praise of the, i. 101, 162,
letter to, touching the examination of Peacham, ii.
511.
King's admonition of the judges for their freedom
of speech touching the commendams, ii. 493; style
and titles, suggestions as to the, ii. 145 ; his prero-
gative, cases of ii. 165; in war and peace, ii. 165;
in trade, ii. 166; in the persons of his subjects, ii.
166; in his person solutus legibus, yet his acts
limited by law, ii. 169; tiie corporation of the
crown difiers from all other corporations, ii. 177;
several privileges of the king stated, ii. 178; the
doctrine respecting homage to the crown in that act
of Parliament for the banishment of the Spencers,
ii. 178; observations upon it, ii. 178; the Commons
entertaining certain petitions concerning private
injuries of merchants from the Spaniards asserted
to be a derogation from his prerogative, ii. 197;
letter to the judges touching the case of commen-
dams, ii. 493 ; right of purveyance, ii. 388 ; entry,
proclamation on the, ii. 451.
Kings, conduct of their servants, i. 161 ; laboured
speech unbecoming in, i. 161 ; advantages of learned,
i. 177; duty of sunjects to, i. 168; learned, advan-
tages of i. 164, 165 ; truly learned, almost a miracle
for to be, i. 162; style, proclamation on. ii. 453;
styled gods on earth, ii. 376 ; not envied but by
kings, i. 17; in council not to open his own inclina-
tion too much, i. 29 ; the high rate they set upon
friendship, i, 33 ; the power of princes to add great-
ness to their kingdoms, i. 39 ; a wise prince to dis-
cern the intentions of aspirers, i. 44.
King's Bench, power of, laid down in Bagg's case, ii.
507.
King's court, choice of officers for the, ii. 387.
King's College, Catnbridge, phenomenon in, a wooden
building there containing i>ells, iii. 543.
Kingdoms, essay on their true greatness, i. 36 ; their
power in the warlike disposition of the people, i. 36 ;
for greatness should profess arms as their principal
occupation, i. 38; should beware of siding with
factions, i. 55 ; too high factions a sign of weakness
in princes, i. 56 ; description of a king, i. 62 ; a
prodigal king nearer a tyrant than a parsimonious,
i. 63 ; five things of which he should have a special
care, i. 63.
Kinsale, Spaniards defeated at, and their general,
d'Avila, taken prisoner, ii. 200, 211; bravery of the
English at the battle of ii. 21 1 ; treaty at, ii. 21 1.
Knighthood, advice to bestow some among the under
takers of the plantations in Ireland, ii. 185.
Knowd, James, the confession of ii, 366 ; sent t(
Tyrone by Lee, ii. 350.
Knowledge, praise of, i. 79; on the ends of i. 81 ■
to be limited by religion and to be referred to us<s,
i. 81 ; a preservative against unbelief i. 83 ; imjied:
ments of, i. 84 ; the different desires of the deiivereJ
INDEX.
563
an<l received of, i. 85 ; like wator, never arises higher
than the level from which it fell, i. 85 ; its end
generally mistaken, i. 87 ; on the errors in the
mind in the inquisition of i. 91 ; Bacon's thoughts
of, i. 96 ; Reneriiles pride, i. 162; is power, i. 182 ;
jf man like water, springing from below, descending
from above, i. 193; divided into divinity and philo-
sophy, i. 193 ; Plato's ojyinion of, i. 161 ; advantages
of to its possessor, i. 182; insures immortality, i.
183; pleasures of the greatest, i. 183; not the
quality of, that can swell the mind, i. 162; not
like lines, i. 193; like branches of a tree, i. 193;
desire of perfect, the cause of the fall of man, i.
175; dignity of, is to be sought in the archetype,
i. 174; true, is wisdom, i. 174; uses of, i. 163;
objections to advancement of, i. 162 ; {)raise of, in the
Scriptures, i. 176 ; aspiring to the cause of the fall,
i, 162; contemplation of God's creatures producelh,
i. 163; delivery of, by aphorisms, i. 214; critical,
i. 217 ; pedantical, i. 2 17 ; is pabulum animi, i. 207 ;
as pyramids, whereof history is the basis, i. 197;
is a representation of truth, i. 171 ; of ourselves, i.
233 ; Solomon's observations on the nature of, i.
163; when a cause of anxiety, i. 163; increases
anxiety, Solomon says, i. 163; limits of, i, 163;
humanizes men's minds, i. 181 ; improves private
virtues, i. 181 ; removes temerity, levity, and inso-
lency, i. 182; and vain admiration, i. 182; miti-
jfates the fear of death or adverse fortune, i. 182 ;
tradition of, not ingenuous but magistral, i. 173;
erroneous motives for the acquisition of, i. 174;
error of too early reducing into method, i. 173;
advantages of, i. 174; true end of, i. 174; civil, i.
228 ; of others, i. 232 ; advancement of, interrupted
by being applied to professions, i. 174; improves
morals, i. 182.
rj*^BouH encouraged by reward, i. 184,
l.abyrinth of Daedalus, i. 300.
T.abyrinthi fdum, i. 96.
Lace, making it in England, ii. 384.
LacediEmon, their niceness in admitting naturalization,
ii. 224 ; its strength compared to a river, stronger at
a distance, but weak at the fountain, ii. 224.
Lakes, artificial, i. 266.
Lamech, his boast of murder, ii. 298.
Land improved by draining, ii. 384 ; statute for aliena-
tion of, i. 343.
Lands, how to improve, ii. 384 ; no such usury as
from improving, ii. 387.
Lancaster, court of the duchy of, ii. 513.
Lancashire being backward in religion. Queen Eliza-
beth erected four stipends for preachers therein,
ii. 241.
Lantern of justice evidence, ii. 321.
Lard, its use in removing warts, ii. 136.
Lassitude, experiments touching, ii. 98.
Latin, character of language, iii. 222.
Latimer's, Bishop, saying how to make the king rich,
i. 108.
Latimer's case, notes upon Lord, ii. 528.
Latter times prophesied by Daniel, i. 191.
Laud's, Dr., saying about hypocrites, i. 122.
Laughing, effect of ii. 97.
Law tracts, iii. 219.
Law of revolt, ii. 364.
Law, i. 238 ; the king its life, i. 63 ; iu life in the exe-
cution, ii. 292 ; reaches every wrong or injury, ii.
507 ; the common law more worthy than the statute
law, and the law of nature more worthy than them
both, ii. 169 ; favours three things, life, liberty, and
dower, ii. 176 ; where a prince's title is by law he can
never change the laws, for they create his title, ii. 181 ;
as mixed as our language, ii. 230, 235 ; the objec-
tions to our laws, ii. 230 ; university lectures, advice
to raise the pension of out of the iSutton Estate,
ii. 241; elements of the common, iii. 219; maxims
of, iii. 219 — 247; use of the, iii. 247; arguments
in, iii. 267 ; the civil, not to be neglected, ii. 380 ;
the just use to be made of, ii. 486.
Laws, the treatise de regulis juris most important to
the health of the, ii. 232 ; goo<l laws some bridle to
bad princes, ii. 234 ; execution of the old, ii. 267,
286; English second to none, ii. 378; multiplicity
of evil. ii. 285 ; against usury, i. 333 ; against man-
slaughter, i. 333; various improvements in, i. 333;
their three natures, jura, leges, and mores, ii. 141 ;
several laws are of the internal points of separation
with Scotland, ii. 146 ; considerations touching Ihern,
and touching a digest of them, ii. 147 ; Sir Francis
Bacon's speech in the House of Commons for the
union of the laws of England and Scotland, ii. 158 ;
a preparation towards the union of those laws, ii.
160; the division of jus publicum, ii. 161; the
great organ by which the sovereign power moves,
ii. 168; although the king is solutus legibus, bis
acts are limited by law, ii. 169; penal, during
James I., ii. 306 ; work on, ii. 435.
Laws of England, i. 239 ; their dignity, i. 239 ; their
defect, i. 239 ; civil, i. 239 ; how pressed, i. 238 ;
how expounded, i. 238 ; proposal for amendment
of, ii. 229 ; objections to, and answers to those ob-
jections, ii. 230 ; offer of digest of, ii. 233.
Laws written upon by philosophers or lawyers, not
statesmen, ii. 238.
Lawyers, not judged by the issue of their causes,
i. 203; not always the best statesmen, i. 164; not
the best lawmakers, i. 238 ; write what is, not what
ought to be, law, i. 238 ; fees of ii. 474.
Lawgivers are kings after their decease, ii. 230.
Lea, Sir James, temper and gravity of, ii. 477.
Learned men, discredit to learning from their errors,
i. 166; are not slothful, i. 165; patriotism of i.
168; objections to learning by, i. 162 ; morigeration
of not disallowed, i. 169; negligence of, i. 168;
sometimes fail in exact application, i. 168 ; poverty
of, i. 166; meanness of their employment, i. 167;
would impose ancient precepts, i. 167; should be
rewarded, i. 185; works relating to, i. 185; should
be countenanced, i. 185; influence of studies on
the manners of, i. 167 ; in obscurity in states com,
pared to Cassius and Brutus in the funeral of Junia-
i. 167 ; errors in their studies, i. 169 ; have preferred
their countries' good to their own interest, i. 168.
Learned kings, &c., advantages of, i. 164, 165,
Learning, will defend the mind against idleness, i.
166; pleasures of the greatest,!. 183; humanizes
men's minds, i. 182; improves private virtues, i.
1 82 ; improves morals, i. 1 82 ; represses inconve
niences between men, i. 177; its effects illustrated
by the fable of Orpheus, i. 177; does not under-
mine reverence of laws, i. 166; peccant humours
of, i. 172; want of inquiry ip unlaboured parts of
i. 186; division of i. 187; objections of learned
men to, i. 166; makes men more ready to agree
than obey, i. 164; impediments to, i. 163; soft-
ens men's minds, i. 164 ; enlarges military power,
i. 179, 180; scriptural |)raise of i. 176; ancient
preserved by the Christian church, i. 176 ; relievt^s
man's afflictions, i. 176 ; ministers greater strength
than infirmity, i. 165 ; places of i. 184 ; books of,
i. 185; insures immortality, i. 183, uses of, i. 163;
564
INDEX.
contentious,!. 169, 170; unprofitable,!. 171; times
most renowned for arms most admired for, i. 164;
olijections of politicians to, answered, i. 164 ; ad-
vantages of, proficiency of, i. 174 ; teaches the use
of distinctions and exce[)tions, i. 165 ; human proofs
of the advantages of, i. 177; advantages of in
kitigs, governors, and senators, i. 177; endues the
mind with tender sense, i. 168; erroneous, and dif-
ferent errors of, i. 169; advantages of, in princes
and governors, i. 164, 165; takes away levity, te-
merity, and insolency, i. 182; and vain admiration,
i. 1 82 ; and mitigates the fear of death or adverse
fortune, i. 1 82 ; flourishes in the middle of a state,
i. 62 ; has its infancy, youth, strength, and old age, i.
62 ; why learning now has the curse of barrenness,
i. 87 ; Antisthenes's opinion to unlearn what is
naught was the most necessary thing, i. 1 20 ; of Eliza-
beth, i. 166 ; excellence of and propagation of, i. 1 62.
Learning and arms, instances of concurrence in, i.
164, 165 ; comparison of, in advancing men, i. 183.
Lead incorporates with copper, ii. 459 ; mixed with
silver, ii. 108; salt of, with lead, ii. 460; weight
of, in water, ii. 464.
Leaf of burrage, its virtue, ii. 9.
Leagues typified in the fable of Styx, i. 289.
Leaves not so nourishing as roots, ii. 14.
Lecturers should be the ablest men, i. 185; inade-
quacy of rewards for, i. 185.
Lee, Sir Thomas, suffered for rebellion, ii. 350 ; his
confession, ii. 365.
Lee, Sir John, notes upon the case of, ii. 527.
Leftside, experiment touching the, ii. 121.
Legacies, suits for, ii. 514.
Legal questions for the judges in the case of Earl and
Countess of Somerset, ii. 516.
Legends, their origin, i. 70.
Legs, how to form the calves of the, ii. II.
Leicester, Thomas, Earl of, his library, ii. 508.
Lepanto, battle of, arrested the greatness of the Turk,
i. 38.
Leprosy most contagious before maturity, i. 175.
Lethe, the river, runs as well above ground as below,
i. 60.
Letters, in business, when good, i. 53 ; relating to
Chief Justice Coke, ii. 497.
Letters patent, exemplification of, ii. 485.
Letters from Lord Bacon.
Arundel, to the Earl of, iii. 91.
Bacon, to Sir Anthony, iii. 205. 210.
Barnham, to Sir Francis, iii. 155.
Bodley, to Sir Thomas, iii. 27, 31, 198.
Bristol, to the Earl of, iii. 79, 149.
Buckhurst, to Lord, iii. 26.
Buckingham, to the Countess of, iii. 146.
Buckingham, to the Duke of, ii. 375, 504, ,521,525,
526 ; iii. 26, 75, 76, 77, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85,
86,87,88,89,90,104, 106, 107, 108, 109,111,
112, 113, 115,116,117,119,120,121,122,12.3,
124, 1«27, 128, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134, 135, 138,
140, 141, 145, 146, 147, 148, 1.50, 151, 152, 1.53,
154, 155, 156, 157, 159, 167, 168, 169, 171, 172,
17.3, 174, 176, 177, 178, 179, 180, 181, 184, 185,
186, 187, 194.
Burghley, to Lady, iii. 161 ; to Lord, iii. 1, 2, 53, 161,
164.
Calvert, to the Secretary, iii. 125.
Cambridge, to the Mayor of iii. 168.
Cambridge, to the University of, iii. 50, 63, 64, 166;
to Trinity College, iii. 64.
Canterbury, to the .Archbishop of, iii. 62.
I Letters from Lord Bacon, continved.
Gary, to Sir George, iii. 33.
i Cecil, to Sir Robert, ii. 187; iii. 9, 51, 54, oo, Gl, 92,
9.3, 162, 192,203, 206.
Challoner, to Sir Thomas, iii. 37.
Chancellor, to the Lord, iii. 23, 26, 35.
Chancellor of Ireland, to the Lord, iii. 113.
Chief Justice of Ireland, to the, iii. 114.
Clifford, to Lady, iii. 1 18.
Coke, to Sir Edward, ii. 485 ; iii. 34.
Conway, to Mr. Secretary, iii. 148, 149
Cottington, to Sir Francis, iii. 148, 149.
Cotton, to Sir Robert, iii. 165.
Davis, to Sir J., iii. 38, 200.
Devonshire, to the Earl of, ii. 333.
Digby, to Lord, iii. 138.
Dorset, to the Earl of, iii. 156.
Effiat, to the Marquis of, iii. 65, 158.
Egerton, to Sir Thomas, iii. 91, 207.
Ely, to the Bishop of iii. 30.
Essex, to the Earl of, iii. 3, 5, 6, 8, 51, 53, 55, 59, 61,
62, 200,202, 203, 209, 210.
Falkland, to Henry Cary, Lord, iii. 142.
Fenton, to Lord, iii. 104.
Feoffees of St. Aldat's, Oxon, to the, iii. 171.
Foules, to Mr. David, iii. 9, 38.
Friend, to a, iii. 189, 190.
Fulgentio, to Father, iii. 61.
Fullerton, to Sir James, iii. 111.
Gondomar, to Count, iii. 170, 216, 217.
Grevii, to Foulk, iii. 52.
Hickes, to Mr. Michael, iii. 162, 164, 165, 166.
Howard, to Lord Henry, iii. 56.
Jones, to Dr. Thomas, iii. 1 13.
Keeper, to the Lord, iii. 105, 145, 192, 193, 194, 195,
196.
Kemp, to Robert, iii. 8. 201.
King, to the, ii. 233, 326, 328, 331, 488, 498, 499,
500, 501, 502, 510, 511, 512, 519, 524, 526, 527;
iii. 10, 11, 12, 14, 16, 18, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 32
33, 36, 39, 40, 41. 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 49, 72,
76,78, 82, 87, 93, 94. 95, 96, 100, 101, 12.5, 129,
131, 134, 136, 148, 152, 158, 177, 180, 183, 184,
198.
Kinloss, to the Lord, iii. 34.
Lea, to the Lord 'IVeasnrer, iii. 169.
Lenox, to the Duke of, iii. 140.
Lords, to the, iii. 25, 137.
Lucy, to Sir Thomas, irt. 53.
Master of the Horse, to the, iii. 19.
Matthew, to Mr. 'J'ohie, iii. 10, 21, 31, 70, 71, 143,
149, 151. 152. 160, 168.
Maxey, to Mr., iii. 211.
May, to Sir Humphrey, iii. 135, 156, 158.
Maynard and Hickes, to, iii. 163.
Mayor, to the Lord, iii. 39.
Meautys, to Thomas, Esq., iii. 143.
Morison, to Dr., iii. 197.
Murray, to .Mr., ii. 511 ; iii. 97, 197.
Niece, to his, iii. 1 02.
Northampton, to the Earl of, iii. 27.
Northumberland, to the Earl of, iii. 8, 16, 34, 38.
Oxford, to the Earl of iii. 154.
Oxford, to the University of, iii. 21 1.
Packington, to Lady, iii. 197.
Palatine of the Rhine, to the Count, iii. 161.
Palmer, to Mr. Roger, iii. 157.
Petition intended for the House of Lords, iii. 137.
Pierce, to Mr., iii. 39.
Playfer, to Dr., iii. 27.
President, to the Lord, iii. 168.
INDEX.
565
Letters from Lorrf Bnenn, enntinued.
Prince, to the, iii. 1:16. 1.52, 183. 11) 1.
Piickcrincc, to Sir John, iii. 91, 172.
Pye. to Sir Koliert, iii. 150.
V,iueen of Uohemia, to the, iii. »)3, 144.
yu.'cn, to the, iii. .37, 54, 55, 56, 201. 205.
Sniishiiry, to the Earl of, iii. 5, 21, 25, 3D, 40, 164.
Saville, to Sir Henry, i. 104 ; iii. 71.
Servant, to his, iii. 191.
Skinner, to Sir Vincent, iii. 3.5.
Southampton, to the Earl of, iii. 38.
Stanho|)e, to Sir John, iii. 51.
Treasurer, to the Lord, iii. 1, 9, 52. 142, 162, 163.
Viliicrs, to Lord, iii. 73, 74, 75, 171.
Villiers, to Sir Geori,'e, ii. 32fi, 328, 330, 518 ; iii. 12
1.5, 19. 20, 4.5, 47, 48. 49. 50, 72, 97, 194, 199.
Wiike. to Mr. Isaac, iii. 115.
Weston, to Sir Richard, iii. 15.5.
Williams, to Dr., iii. 64, 137, 145.
Winchester, to the Uishop of, ii. 435.
Wotton, to Sir Henry, iii. 522.
York, to the Archhishop of, iii. 160.
York, to the Lord President of, iii. 1 68.
Letters to Lord Bacon.
Uacon, from Sir Edmund, iii. 101.
Bodley, from Sir Thomas, iii. 28.
Buckingham, from the Duke of, ii. 54, 522, 523, 524
525; iii. 102, 103, 104, 106. 107, 108, 109, 110
111, 112, 113, 114, 11.5, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120,
121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 128, 129, 130, 131. 132,
133, 138, 150, 171, 173, 174, 17.5, 176, 177, 178,
179. 180, 182, 184, 185, 187, 188,211.
Burghley, from Lord, iii. 201.
Tambriil-ge, from the University of, iii. 166, 167.
'^'ecil, from Sir Robert, iii. 201.
Coventry, from Sir Thomas, iii. 157.
Englefvid, from Sir Francis, iii. 107.
^sst'X. from the Earl of, iii. 37, 196, 200, 202, 203,
204, 20.5, 209; to the queen, iii. 55.
Franklin, from Edward, iii. 169.
Friend, from some, iii. 105.
Grevii, from Fouike, iii. 204.
Keeper, from the Lord, iii. 147.
King, from the, ii. 502; iii. 50, 167.
Lenox, from the Duke of, iii. 140.
Martin, from Richard, iii. 100.
Matthew, from Mr. Tobie, iii. 97, 98, 99, 114, 118,
126, 127. 160.
Meautys, from Thomas, Esq., iii. 138, 140, 141, 142,
14.5, 146. 170.
Oxford, from the University of. iii. 65.
Sackville, from Sir Edward, iii. 144.
Selden, from John, Esq., ii. 530.
Villiers, from Sir George, ii. 498; iii. 101, 173.
Williams, from Dr., iii. 137.
Yelverton, from Sir Henry, ii. 503, .528.
Coke, Sir Edward, to the king, ii. 502.
Council, to the, from the Earl of Essex, iii. 56.
Council, privy, to the king. iii. 175.
Deodati, to, from Dr. Rawley, iii. 67.
Essex, from the Earl of, to Mr. Anthony Bacon, iii. 3, 4.
Gruter, Mr. Isaac, to Dr. Rawley, iii. 68, 69. 70.
Maynwaring, Dr. Roger, to Dr. Rawley, iii. 66.
Rawley, to Dr., from Mon. Deodate, iii. 67.
Levant, their behaviour to princes a good moral,
i. 168.
Lewis XI. of France, his mode of mixing with in-
feriors, i. 294 ; saying of, i. 118; his cl iseness was
his tormentor, i. 34 ; his intention to make a perfect
bw out of the civil law Roman, ii. 231, 235.
Lil)el, observations on one published in 1592, ii. 242
Libel-i, when frc(|uenl the signs of troubles, i. 22
always favoured, ii. 413.
Liberators the third in honour, i. 58.
Liberty, motion of, what, ii. 8.
Licenses, good certificate required for (granting, ii. 485.
Lie, enormity of giving the, rose from opinion of
Francis I., ii. 298 ; ancients did not consider it deep
ortence, ii. 298.
Lies, why men love them, i. 1 1 ; why it is such a dis-
grace, i. 1 1 ; great ellect of cross, i. 57 ; breed opi-
nion, and opinion brings on substance, i. 57.
Lieutenants, lord of counties, choice of, ii. 380.
Life, prolongation of, Aristotle's remarks concerning, ii.
16 ; prolongation of,ii.47; iii. 467; and death, history
of, iii. 467 ; length and shortness of, in animals, iii.
475 ; in man, iii. 479 ; medicines for long, iii. 488 ;
canons of the duration of, iii. 512.
Light, topics of inquiry concerning, i. 452 ; kindling
of natural, i. 454 ; by refraction, ii. 402 ; moves
quicker than sound, ii. 37.
Light and sound, the agreements and disagreements
of the phenomena of, iii. 537, 539, 541, 542.
Light of nature, i. 239.
Light on water like music, i. 194.
Limits of reason, i. 240.
Lincoln, Earl of. joins in Simnell's conspiracy, i. 322;
his design upon the crown, i. 322; departs for
Flanders, i. 323 ; slain at Newark. 325.
Lincoln, ca.-e of the Bishop of, ii. 490.
Lincostis, herb growing in the water, ii. 85,
Liciuefiable bodies, which are not, ii. 114.
Li<}uids, separation of, by weight, appetite of, conti-
nuation in, ii. 10 ; effects of percussion on, ii. 8.
Liquors, clarifying of, ii. 7; commixture of, ii. 465;
preservation of in wells, ii. 57 ; alteration of in
deep vaults, ii. 57; experiments touching the clari-
fication of. ii. 47; operation of time upon, ii. 119;
touching the compression of, ii. 119.
liiquor ancl powders, incorporation of, ii. 46.
Lisbon, expedition to, ii. 200.
Literary history, deficiency of i. 187 ; uses of, i. 187.
Littleton's advice to the professors of the law, ii. 167 ;
his book not of the nature of an institution, ii. 232.
Littleton and Fitzherbert, peculiarities of their writ-
ings, iii. 222.
Liturgy, i. 243; ii. 425.
Liver, a purge for opening the, ii. 466.
Livia settled Tiberius's succession by giving out that
Augustus was recovering, i. 62 ; her speech to Au-
gustus on being met by naked men, i. 113 ; impoi-
soning figs on the tree, ii. 322.
Living creatures and plants, allinities and differences
in, ii. 81.
Livius, Titus, his censure against Perseus's, King of
Macedon, mode of carrying on war, ii. 216; his
judgment of Alexander the Great, ii. 223.
Livy, his description of Cato Major, i. 46 ; of Scipio
Africanus, i. 48 ; his remark in the case of Antiochus
and the .'Etolians, i. 57 ; his saying respecting Alex-
ander, i. 84.
Loadstone, discovery of the uses of the, i. 188.
Logic, too early taught in universities,!. 186; con-
sidereth things as in notion, i. 194; its diffeience
from rhetoric, i. 216; induction by nature Inciter
than as described in logic, i. 208; does not invent
sciences, i. 207 ; Alexander's reprehension of, and
his use of, i. 180.
Logicians, induction of, errors of, i. 208.
Long life, medicines for, iii. 488.
Lopez, Dr., report of his treasonable design against
3B
566
INDEX.
the queen's person, ii, 216; the means he had to
poison the queen and to conccfvl his crime, ii. 217;
a Portuguese and secretly a Jew, sworn physician
of the household, ii. 217; gives intelligence to the
King of Spain, ii. 217 ; his conduct with Andrada,
ii. 218; assents to poison the queen, ii. 218; sends
Andrada to S()ain to contract about the reward, ii.
218; communicates with Kerrera thereon, ii. 219;
his manner of corresponding, ii. 219; demands
50,000 crowns, ii. 219 ; asks the queen whether a
deceiver might not be deceived, ii. 219 ; Ferrera
discovered to have intelligence, ii. 219 ; Lopez called
in question, ii. 220 ; denies his conferences, ii. 220 ;
confronted by F^errera, ii. 220 ; falsehood of his ex-
cuses, ii. 220 ; justice of his condemnation, ii. 220 ;
executed, ii. 220, [note.]
Love, vain, and divine, i. 227; Xenophon's opinion of,
i. 227 ; witiiout love faces but pictures, and talk a
tinkling cymbal, i. 33 ; is goodness put in motion,
i. 81 ; his attributes, i. 298.
Level, Viscount, his attainder, i, 318; his rebellion, i,
319; his fliu'ht to Flanders, i. 319; drowned near
Newark, i. 325.
Low Countries, ii. 451; their state in the time of
Queen Elizabeth, ii. 247 ; observation that the same
weather in, returns every thirty-five years, i. 60.
Low's case of tenures, iii. 276.
Lucius, Commodus Verus, a learned prince, i. 178,
Lucretius's praise of knowledge, i. 183; his verse on
Agamemnon's sacrificing his daughter, i. 13; makes
his invectives against religion the burden of his other
discourses, i. 70.
Lucky, some men are, ii. 129, 132.
Lucullus's answer to Pompey's remark on his rooms, i.
50, 1 13; his saying of Pompey, i. 121.
Lumsden, Mr., charge against, ii. 307.
Lungs the most spongy part of the body, ii. 35.
Lust, effect of, ii. 97.
Luson, Sir John, commands a body of pikemen against
the Earl of Essex, ii. 359.
Luther praised for awakening human learning, i. 98.
Lycurgus, saying of his, i. 109, 1 19,
Lycurgus's answer to one who counselled him to dis-
solve the kingdom, ii. 168; his laws spoken of by
grammar scholars, ii. 231,234; continued longest
without alteration, ii. 234.
Ijysimachus, remark on Lamia, power over Demetrius,
i. 118.
Machiavei,, i. 235, 236, 237; his saying of custom,
i. 45 ; his opinion on the cause of the greatness of
the Roman Empire, ii. 140 ; his saying touching the
true sinews of war, ii. 157, 225; his saying on
the (Christian Faith, i. 21 ; on partial princes,!. 22;
on the efTects of the jealousy of sects, i. 60 ; his ob-
servation on the poverty of friars, i. 1 66.
Macrocephali esteemed, ii. II.
Msecenas, his advice to Augustus Cssar about the
marriage of his daughter Julia, i. 34.
Magic, Persian, i. 194; Persian, the secret literature
of the kings, ii. 138; natural, is defective, i. 199;
ceremonial, i. 206.
Magicians, means used by, more monstrous than the
end, i. 199.
Magistrates, of subordinate, ii. 293.
Magistrates, considerations touching the recusant ma-
gistrates of the towns of Ireland, ii. 191 ; advice not
to tender the oath of supremacy to them, ii. 191.
Magnificence, a regal virtue, i. 63.
Magnanimity, its nature, ii. 445.
Magnetical, sun and moon of what, ii. 19.
Mahometans, propagation of religion of, ii. 314.
Mahomet, ii. 439.
Maize, Indian, its use, ii. 467.
Majoration of sounds, ii. 31.
Majors, alterations which may be called, ii. 114.
Maleficiating, experiment on, ii. 122.
Male and female, differences between, ii. 117.
Mallet's Life of Bacon, notice of wisdom of the ancien'a,
i. 273.
Malmsey, what nitre good for when dissolved in,
ii. 128.
Malt, experiments touching, ii. 86.
Man, fall of, induced by desire of perfect knowledge, i.
175 ; knowledge of, i. 201 ; as an individual, i. 201 ;
a member of society, i. 201 ; divided state of the
body of. i. 202 ; the mind of, i. 202 ; faculties of, use
and object of, i. 206 ; in society, i. 228 ; delights in
generalities, i. 198 ; nature of mind of, i. 161 ; as an
individual undivided state, i. 201 ; ancient opinion
that man was microcosmus, i. 202 ; aliment of, i.
202 ; condition of, ii. 54.3.
Man's understanding, i. 187; knowledge like water,
i. 193; flesh, venomous quality of, ii. 10; body, in-
stances how it may be moulded, i. 105.
Man, Doctor, Ambassador of Queen Elizabeth, ill
treated by Philip of Spain, ii. 260.
Manlius, his protestation, ii. 364.
Manna, gathering of, ii. 105.
Manners of learned men, objections to learning from
the, answered, i. 167 ; less corrupted by vicious,
than half evil, men, i. 175; of learned men, discredit
to learning from, i. 166.
Manus Christi for the stomach, ii. 470.
Manufactures, sedentary manufactures contrary to a
military disposition, i. 38 ; advantage of ancient
states, that they had slaves to do the manufactures,
i. 38.
Marble, plaster growing as hard as, ii. 106.
Marcasite of metals, ii. 460.
Marcellus, humour of, ii. 487.
March, a dry one portends a wholesome summer,
ii. 110.
Marches, jurisdiction of the, iii. 285.
Margaret of Burgundy sets up a counterfeit Duke of
York, i. 346.
Mariners, how furnished, ii. 383.
Mariners' needle, i. 207.
Marius Caius, his conduct to the Cadurcians and de
fence of it, i. 121.
Marriage and high life. Essay of, i. 16.
Marrow more nourishing than fat, ii. 14.
Marseilles, Sjianiards had it and left it, ii. 213.
Mart, letters of, against the Spaniards desired by thn
English merchants, ii. 195; considerations thereoii,
ii. 196.
Martial law, useful in plantations, i. 41
Martial men given to love, i. 19.
Mascardus de interpretatione statutorum, ii. 528.
Mason, Mr., witty answer of his, i. 111.
Masques and triumphs, essay on, i. 44.
Masques, when to be given at court, ii. 388.
Master of chancery taking afiidavits, ii. 483.
Masters of the chancery, ii. 472.
Masters, reference to, ii. 482 ; certifying state of caa.««,
ii. 482.
Marvels, history of, deficient, i. 187 ; uses of, i. 188,
Mathematical and logical part of men's minds, i. 23o.
Mathematical house, i. 269.
Mathematics, no deficience reported, i. 1 99 ; pure, i.
199; sharpen the dull wit, i. 199; if wandering,
fix the mind, i. 199 ; if too coherent in the sense,
INDEX.
567
abstract it, i. 199; TJnivprsity Icctiirrn, ndvire to
raise the pension of, out of the Sutton Estate, ii. 24 1 ;
make men suhtile, i. 35; a position in, that there is
no proportion between somewhat and nothing, i. 77.
Mathemalic, the subject of it, quantity determined, i.
198.
Matrimony, oojections to our form of, ii. 426.
Matter of divinity, i. 243.
Mutter, a fixed sum of, i. 410; characters of, ii. 11.5;
like a common strumpt-t, ii. 109; alteration of, ii.
114; quantity of, whether always measured by
wcii^ht, ii. 5fi0, 562 ; a table of the conjunction and
expansion of, in lani;il)le bodies, with a calculation
of their ratios iti dilferent hodics, ii. 561 ; account of
the experiments from which the table was made, ii.
561.
Matthew, Mr. Tobie, letters to, i. 277 ; letter to, con-
cerning the Latin translation of his essays, i. 5.
Matthewt!, Mr., letter to, with the book De Sapientia
Veterum, i. 4.
Maturation, of drinks and fruits, ii. 48; of metals,
ii. 49.
May dew, for medicine, ii. 106,
Maximilian, assisted by Henry, i. 337 ; marries the
Duchess of Brittany, i. 337.
Maxims of the common laws, iii. 219.
Maxims of the law, iii. 223 — 247,
Meats that intluce satiety, ii. 46.
Mechanic arts, the first device in, comes short, but
refined by time, i. 85; the study of, ii. 558.
Mechanical operations, the chief root of, ii. 8.
Mechanical wisdom, story of Daedalus a[)plied to, i. 300.
Mechanical history assists natural philosophy, i. 188.
Mechanics, history of, neglected, i. 188.
Medes painted their eyes, ii. 99.
Medical receipts, ii. 469.
Medical remains, ii. 466.
Medicinal property of pepper, ii. 14.
Medicinal earth, veins of. ii. 94.
Medicinal history is deficient, i. 203.
Medicinable, making herbs and fruits, ii. 69.
Medicine, scammony a strong, ii. 9 ; its effect on cor-
rupt bodies, ii. 343 ; change of, ii. 18 ; separate from
philosophy, mere empirical practice, i. 201 ; its power
on the mind, i. 202; deficiencies and want of reports,
defective anatomy and hasty conclusions, i. 203 ;
office of, i. 203; and music conjoined in Apollo,
i. 203.
Medicines, Celsus's observations on, i. 207 ; prepara-
tions of, i. 205 ; different qualities of, ii. 13; ex[)eri-
ment touching purging, ii. 13; how purging ones
lose their virtue, li. 9; special simples for, ii. 91 ;
that condense and relieve the spirits, ii. 99.
Mediocrity of athletics, i. 205.
Mi'ilitationes Sacra;, first edition of, i. 6 ; Sacra;, i. 67.
Medusa, i. 293.
Megrims, causes of. ii. 99.
Melancholy, wine for fjreserving the spirit against ad-
verse, ii. 466 ; drink to dissipate, ii. 9.
Melioration of fruits, trees, and plants, ii. 62.
Melocotone and [)each, best from seed, ii. 64.
Melting, gold easy metal for, ii. 108.
Memnon. or a youth too forward, i. 297.
Memory, i. 212; tiie art of, visible images in, ii. 131 ;
how strengthened, ii. 133; men's desire of, i. 190;
that cell in the mind filled by history, i. 192; and
invention, divorce between, i. 186; history relates
to the, i. 187.
Men, their dispositions, i. 224; savage desires of, i.
177; sweats of, ii. 8; union between all, ii. 443;
the best books, ii. 486.
Men's natures and ends, i. 233.
Men's minds, logical and mathematical, i. 236.
Men's spirits, the general sympathy of, ii. 137.
Menandcr of vain love, i. 227.
Mercenaries not to be relied on, i. 37.
Merchandises, king's right of impositions on, ii. 278;
argument concerning impositions on, ii. 278.
Merchandise, foreign, ii. 385; ever despised by the
kings of this realm as ignoble, ii. 228 ; flourishes in
the decline of a state, i. 62.
Merchants, speeches on their |)etition respecting Spa-
nish grievances, ii. 193; grants of, ii 279.
Mercury, mixture of metals with, ii. 459.
Mercury and sulphur, experiments on, ii. 53 ; and salt,
history of, iii. 406.
Mercy, of despatch, ii. 487 ; its works are the distinc-
tion to find out hypocrites, i. 69 ; examples of, for
comfort, ii. 380 ; the white robe of, ii. 319; to what
extent honourable, ii. 384 ; in a king when cruelty,
ii. 384 ; its variation, ii. 446.
Merick, Sir Gilly, left guard at Essex House, ii. 35S ;
pays forty shillings to the players to act Richard
the Second, ii. 365 ; evidence against, ii. 236.
Messages, s|>eech on receiving the king's, ii. 276.
Metal trumpet, ii. 456.
Metal, weight of, in water, ii. 464; drowning of the
base in the more precious, ii. 108; statues, ii. 456;
string, ii. 456 ; bell, ii. 456.
Metals and vegetables, mixture of, ii. 447.
Metals and minerals, as to the union of, ii. 459 ; sepa-
ration of, ii. 460.
Metals, variation of, into different shapes, bodies, and
natures, ii. 460; touching the finer sort of base, ii.
116; incorporation, uses of, ii. 456 ; drowning of. ii.
457; which melt easiest, ii. 460 ; adulteration of, ii.
459 ; versions of, ii. 459 ; quenching of, in water,
ii. 33 ; which contain different metals, ii. 460 ; ma-
turation of, ii. 49 ; orient colour in dissolution of,
ii. 49.
Metaphysic handleth that which supposeth in nature a
reason and understanding, i. 196.
Metellus, Caesar's noble answer to, i. 181.
Methodical delivery, i. 214.
Methusalem water, use of, ii. 467.
Methods and arts, error of over-early reduction of
knowledge into. i. 173.
Metis, or counsel, i. 312.
Meverel, Dr., bis answer to questions on variation of
metals, ii. 461 ; his answers touching restitutions of
metals and minerals, ii. 402 ; his answer to ques
tions on separation of metals and minerals, ii. 460;
his answers to questions concerning minerals am
metals, ii. 459 ; his questions, ii. 458.
Mezentius, his torment quotetl, ii. 16.
Microcosmus, ancient opinion that man was, i. 202.
Midas, judge between Apollo and Pan. i. 183.
Military commanders, vainglory an essential point in,
i. 57.
Military puissance, its three main parts, men, money,
and confederates, ii. 213.
Military disposition, greatness too often ascrilnd to.
ii. 195.
Military power, conjunction between learning and, i.
179, 180; learning promotes, i. 179.
Military virtues promoti-ii. i. 181
■Military arts fiourish most while virtue grows, i. 205.
Military greatness and excellence in learning united,
i. 164, 16.5.
Milk, increasing of, in milch lieasts, ii. 105; waim
from the cow what good for, ii. 15 ; spirits of wiiM
commixed with, ii. 405.
608
INDEX.
Mincing meat, when useful, ii. 15.
Mind, a settled state of, in doubt, one of ttie principal
supporters of man's life, i. 69; made light by dwell-
ing upon the imagination of the thing to come, i.
69 ; passions of, affect the body, ii. 95 ; state of, in
controversy, ii. 420 ; idols of the, make men churl-
ish and mutinous, i. 1H6; the, endued with tender
sense by learning, i. 168 ; its dispositions discovered
by physiognomy, i. 201 ; commandment of the, over
the body, i. 206 ; culture of, i. 233 ; regimen, of, i.
226; versatility of, i. 235; states of, i. 227; the
senses are the reporters to the. i. 162; Solomon's
observations on the, i. 162 ; defects of the, learning
prevents the fixing of the, i. 182 ; learning makes
the, gentle and generous to government, i. 166.
Minds, learning softens men's, and makes them unapt
for use of arms, i. 164.
Mind of man delights in generalities, i. 198; nature
of i. 161 ; knowledge respecting the faculties of, is
of two kinds: 1. The understanding; 2. The will,
i. 206.
Mind of men, division of; 1. Origin; 2. Faculties,
i. 205.
Mind and body, action of, on each other, i. 202 ; power
of medicines on the, i. 202.
Mineral baths, i. 205.
Mineral works, drowned, a speech touching the recovery
of, ii. 463.
Minerals, imperfect ones, ii. 459 ; as to discovery of,
ii. 463 ; of great value, ii. 384 ; questions touching,
ii. 458.
Minerals and metals, union of, ii. 459 ; separation of,
ii. 460.
Mines, all rich the king's, though in the soil of his sub-
jects, ii. 228; damps in which kill, ii. 127; their
hopes uncertain, i. 41.
Mines of Germany, vegetables grow in, ii. 76.
Mining, speech on, li. 463.
Minister, his deep responsibility in acts of preferment,
ii. 378 ; who Hatters his king a traitor, ii. 376.
Ministers, advice for the choice of, i. 44.
Minister and priests, ii. 426.
Ministry, preaching, ii. 427.
Mint, laws for correction of, i. 336 ; certificate relating
to the, ii. 282.
Minos's laws, spoken of in grammar schools, ii. 231,
234 ; a pattern among the Grecians, ii. 234.
Miracles, of our Saviour, related to the body, i. 203 ;
meditations on, i. 67.
Miracles, every one a new creation, i. 67 ; wrought not
for atheists, but idolaters, i. 194.
Mirrors of the Romans, ii. 459.
Miscellaneous Tracts translated from the Latin, i. 406 —
456 ; ii. 543—589 ; iii. 523—544.
Miscellaneous works, ii. 44.5.
Missions, church, ii. 437.
Misseltoe, ii. 75.
Misitheus, a pedant, Rome governed by, i. 165.
Misprisions, as to law of, ii. 525.
Misprision of treason, ii. 162.
Mistio, its difference from compositio, ii. 140 ; its two
conditions, time, and that the greater draw the less,
ii. 141.
Mithridates's use of treacle, ii. 324.
Mixing of metals dissolved, ii. 465.
Mixed metals, ii. 458.
Mixed mathematics, i. 199.
Mixture, of vegetables and metals, ii. 459 ; of tin and
copper, ii. 456 ; of silver and tin, ii. 456.
Modern history below mediocrity, i. 190.
Moisture, qualification of heat by, ii. 90.
Mollification of metals, ii. 461, 462.
Monarchy, elective, not so free and absolute as an
I hereditary, ii. 202 ; without nobility a pure tyranny,
I i. 21.
Monastic life, the beginning was good, but brought into
j abuse after, i. 69 ; John the Baptist referred to as ita
author, i. 69.
I Money, like muck, not good unless spread, i. 23.
j Monopolies, great means of riches, i. 42 ; care in ad-
j mitting, ii. 385.
Monsters, history of, imperfect, i. 188.
Montacute, Viscount, sent to Philip of Spain, in K560 ;
\ the king's cold conduct to, ii. 259.
I Montagu, Sir H., made lord chief justice, afterwards
I Earl of Manchester, ii. 500.
Montaigne's reason why giving the lie is such a dis-
grace, i. 11.
Moon, the influences of, ii. 122; magnetical of heat,
ii. 19 ; opinion that it is composed of solid matter,
ii. 585.
Moonbeams not hot, i. 100.
Moors, colouration of black and tawny, ii. 59.
Morality improved by learning, i. 182.
Moralists censured by religions, ii. 419.
More, Sir Thomas, apophthegms of, i. 108, 109, 113.
Moro, Christophero, counsellor of the King of Spain,
corresponds with Ferrera on Lopez's plot to jtoison
Queen Elizabeth, ii. 219.
Mortification by cold, ii. 106.
Morton, Archbishop of Canterbury, his character and
death, i. 371 ; trusted by Henry VIL, i. 29.
Mortress, how to be made, ii. 15.
Moses, God's first pen, i. 175; wisdom of the cere-
monial law of, i. 175; was seen in all Egyptian
learning, i. 82, 98 ; fitter to be named for honour's
sake to other lawgivers, than to be numbered among
them, ii. 234.
Moss, what it is and where it grows, ii. 74.
Moth, how bred, ii. 92.
Motion, remissness of the ancients in investigating, i.
408; the common division of, deficient, i. 409;
violent, i. 413 ; of liberty, what, ii. 8 ; of sounds, ii.
36 ; after the instant of death, ii. 59 ; upon tensure,
ii. 8 ; of pressure upon bells, ii. 8 ; quickness of in
birds, ii. 90; of bodies, experiments touching the,
ii. 8.
Motions which make no noise, ii. 26 ; by imitation, ii.
45.
Motives, erroneous, for the acquisition of knowledge,
i. 174.
Mountains, why inhabited by Pan, i. 291.
Mountjoye, Lord, dedication of the colours of good
and evil to, i. 72 ; the colours of good and evil dedi-
cated to, i. 7.
Mountjoye, Lord, Spaniards defeated in Ireland by, ii.
206, 211.
Mucianus, a disclosure of his own actions, i. 57 ; undid
Vitellius by a false fame, i. 62.
Muck, different sorts, ii, 464.
Mud, what it turns to, ii. 463.
Mummies of Egypt, ii. 104.
Mummy, force of in stanching of blood, ii. 134.
Murder and manslaughter, laws against, amended, i.
333.
Murder of princes more than simple murder, ii.
392.
Murray, letters to Mr. John, from Lord Bacon, ii.
511.
Muses, why the companions of Bacchus, i. 304.
Mushrooms, what properties they contain, ii. 74.
Music, its effects, i. 177; a quaver in, like light on
INDKX.
509
water, i. 194 , in chnrrhos, ii. 42R ; qnnrtrr notes
III, ii. 25; ex|M'rimrnts touchiriK, ii. *2'1 ; voluntary
in voice only, ii. 33 ; eHccl of ditierent sorts, ii. 26 ;
on the water, ii. 30.
Music ami nifdicine conjoined in Apollo, i. 20.3.
Musical instrument played on by the rays of the sun,
ii. 570.
Musical (glasses, ii. 8.
Musicians, their precept to fall from discords to accords,
i 194.
Mysteries, danger of prying into, i. 295 ; their origin,
i. 70; of Gwl not to be drawn down to man's rea-
son, but man raised to divine things, i. 195.
Namk of nations, though seemingly superficial, carries
much impression, ii. 14 1 ; one of the external points
of separation witii Scotland, ii. 144.
Names, ii. 454.
IS'apluha, a bituminous mortar, ii. 462.
JN'aples, disease of, its origin, ii. 10; the Spaniards
in competition with the sea of Rome for Naples, ii.
201, 214.
Narcissus, his manner of relating to Claudius the
marriage of Messalina and Silius, i. 30.
Narcissus, the flower of, representing unprofitable self-
love, i. 289.
Narrations, nurseries for history, i. 190.
Natural divination, two sorts, i. 200.
Natural history, division of, i. 187; often fabulous,!.
171.
Natural light, kindling of, i. 454.
Natural magic, defective, i, 199; Paracelsus's school
of, i. 206; its true sense, i. 19.5.
Natural philosophy, book of Job pregnant with, i.
177; analogy between, and speculative philosophy,
i. 199; divided into three parts, i. 199; concerning
principles of, i. 194; assisted by registry of doubts,
i. 200; concerning the soul or s[)irit, i. 194; prin-
cipally assisted by mechanical history, i. 188; the
least followed of all knowledge, i. 97 ; received great
opposition from superstition, i. 97 ; gives an excel-
lent defence against superstition and infidelity, i. 98 ;
causes which have retarded its progress, i. 424 ; new
systems of, i. 427.
Natural philosophy in Orphcus's Fable, i. 295.
Natural prudence, experimental, philosophical, and
magical, i. 199 ; operative part of natural philosophy,
i. 199.
Natural theology, the contemplation of God in his
creatures, i. 194.
Natural reason, Sarah's laughter an image of, i.
239.
Natural science and natural prudence, i. 195.
Natural and Experimental History, preparation for,
iii. 420 ; history, iii. 434.
Nature, its quantum eternal, i. 194; her truth said
to be hid in mines and caves, i. 195 ; experiment on
the secret processes of, ii. 23 ; an order in the govern-
ment of the world, ii. 138; its fundamental law,
ii. 138; as considered by philosophers, i. 194.
Nature and man, how differing in spirit, i. 211.
Nature of man, what grateful and agreeable to the,
ii. 137.
Nature of men, i. 177.
Nature in men, essay on, i. 45 • the modes of subduing
nature, i. 45 ; runs either to herbs or weeds, i. 45 ;
not to be trusted to unless corroborated by custom,
i. 45 ; hot natures not ripe for action till after their
meridian, i. 48 ; reposed natures earlier, i. 48 ; a
consent between body and mind, and where nature
errs in one she ventures ia the other, i. 49 ; studies
Vol. hi.— 72
perfect nature, i. .55 ; a little natural philosophy diiu
poses to atheism, much to religion, i. 71. 83; Vale-
rius Termimis of the interpretation of nature, i. 81.
Nature, llioughls and olwervations coricernini} the
interpretation of, i. 422 — 434; ii. 551; principle!
and origins of according to the fables uf Cupid and
heaven, i. 435 ; only conquered, by obeying, i. 431 ;
interpretation of, iii. 345, 371.
Nature of revelation, i. 241.
Natures of much heat not fit for action in youth, i.
284.
Naturalization of the Scotch, speech on, ii. 150; the
four degrees of, ii. 169.
Naturalization, states should be liberal of, i. 37 ; Ro-
mans most so, i. 37.
Naval power advanced by King Henry VII., i. 336.
Navigable rivers help to trade, ii. 258.
Navy the wails of our kingdom, ii. 254 ; considera-
tions respecting, ii. 148.
Negative side, men fond of seeming wise find ease to
be of the, i. .'i3.
Negligence of learned men, i. 1 68
Negotiating, essay on, i. 53.
Negotiation, i. 228 ; its wisdom, i. 229, 230, 231.
Negotiations, foreign, with princes or states, ii. 382.
Negroes, cause of blackness in, ii. 59.
Nemesis, or vicissitudes, i. 302.
Neptune's temple, saying of Diagoras, i. 211.
Nero, ApoUonius's reason for his overthrow, ii. 277.
Nero's opinion of Seneca's style, i. Ill; wish of a
senator respecting his father, i. 111.
Nero and Nerva, diHerence between, ii. 277.
Nerva and Trajan, King James I. compared to, ii,
272.
Nerva, a learned prince, i. 177; Tacitus's character
of, i. 177.
Netherlands, revolt of, from Philip of Spain, occa-
sioned by his resolution to disatmul their lilwrties
and establish a martial government, ii. 259 ; received
into Queen Elizabeth's protection, ii. 259.
Nettles, their roots and leaves, ii. 267 ; roots of, iL
476.
Nevil, Sir Henry, ambassador to France, ii. 354.
Neville, privy to conspiracy of the Earl of Essex, ii.
363.
Neville's, John, Lord, case, ii. 528.
New Atlantis, i. 255; employment of fellows in, i.
269 ; ordinances, hymns, and services, i. 269 ; dedi-
cation of, i. 255 ; Solomon's house in, i. 255, 262 ;
end of foundation, i. 206; caves in, i. 266; towers
in, i. 266; lakes in, i. 266; atmosphere artificial, i.
267 ; health chambers of, i. 267 ; orchards in, i.
267 ; parks for animals in, i. 267; pools in, i. 267 ;
drinks and dispensations, i. 268 ; furnaces in, i.
268.
New things, though they help by their utility, they
trouble by their inconformity, i. 32 ; are like
strangers, more admired and less favoured, i. 32.
Newport, battle of, ii. 211; bravery of the English
there, ii. 211.
Nilus, water of, sweet, ii. 103.
Nimrod, the first conqueror, ii. 168.
I Nisibis, arguments of those who opposed surrendering,
on the retreat of the Roman army out of Persia, li.
223.
Nisi prius judge supplied by commission, ii. 499.
Nitre, its power and qualities, ii. 12, abundance of, in
certain sea-shores, ii. 104; experiment touching, ii.
54.
Nobilities, several, one of the internal points of separa-
tion with Scotland, ii. 146 ; considerations touching
3b2
670
INDEX.
thrm, ii. 147; suggestions to raise nobility among
the undertakers of the plantations in Ireland, ii.
185.
JVobiiily, essay of, i. 21 ; the multiplying of, in an over-
proportion, brings a state to necessity, i. 23 ; de-
pre.ssed by Henry VIL, which made his times full of
troubles, i. 28 ; their too great increase hurts the
peasant, i. 37 ; superfluity of, decreases military
power, i. 336.
Noblemen, their hospitality conduces to martial great-
ness, i. 37 ; better governors in new plantations than
merchants, i. 41.
Noblemen's chaplains, new residence of, ii. 428.
Noel, Henry, his opinion of courtiers, i. 121.
Norfolk, Duke of, proved at his condemnation that the
Duke of Alva and the Spanish ambassador plotted
with him, ii. 260; his attainder, i. 318.
Northampton, Earl of, an answer of his, i. 1 18.
Northumberland, Earl of, slain by insurgents, i. 334.
Notes, as to quarter notes in music, ii. 25.
Norris, Colonel Sir John, repulses the Spaniards at
Rimenant, ii. 207 ; memorable retreat of, to Gaunt,
ii. 208.
Nottingham, Earl of, second invasion of Spain, and
capture of Cadiz under Earls Essex and Notting-
ham, ii. 210.
Nourishing, way of, iii. 478.
Novelty, love of, an impediment to knowledge, i. 95 ;
though not rejected, should be suspected, i. 32.
Novum Organum, iii. 343-, Bacon's opinion of,
ii. 436.
Numa, body found after death, ii. 104; his delight in
solitude, i. 33.
Objects of pursuit, i. 227.
Obligation and reward, necessary for the recovery of
the hearts of the Irish, ii. 189; consideration of
their nature, ii. 190.
Observations on a libel published in 1592, ii. 242.
Ocampo, Alonso D., Spanish succours to Kinsale
under his command, ii. 21 1 ; taken prisoner, ii. 212.
Occhus, honey distilled from, ii. 82.
Odonnell and Tyrone's endeavour to rescue Kinsale,
ii. 211.
Odour, nourishment of, ii. 128 ; effect of, upon Demo-
critus, ii. 128.
Odours, impoisoning by, ii. 127; touching fetid and
fragrant, ii. 112; transmission of, ii. 125.
Office of constables, iii. 315.
Office of compositions for alienations, iii. 319.
Office of rhetoric, i. 210.
Officers of state, one of the internal points of sepa-
ration with Scotland, ii. 146; considerations con-
cerning them, ii. 146.
Officers, choice of, for the king's court, ii. 387.
Ogle, Sir John, his eminent services at the battle of
Newport, ii. 211.
Oil, different sorts mixed with metals when dissolved,
ii. 465 ; mode of expansion of, ii. 569.
Oil of almonds mixed with spirits of wine, ii. 465.
Oil of sweet almonds nourishing, ii. 15.
Ointments, preserving, ii. 466.
Old men love young company, ii. 129.
Old age of ancient sophists, ii. 129.
Olympian games, i. 205.
Omoores, Owny Mac Roory chief of the, ii. 351.
Openers, medicines, ii. 468.
Opinion, private, more free, before others more reve-
rend, i. 29 ; a mast,?r wheel, not long-lived without
supported by worth, ii. 514.
Opinions of Pluto and Parmenides, i. 197; differ-
ences of, touching principles of nature, i. 200, 201.
Opium, how qualilied, ii. 10.
Opportunity, necessity of, ii. 485; should be taken
advantage of, ii. 485.
Orange, Prince of, hurt by the Spanish boy, ii. 18.
Orchards, i. 267 ; planting of ii. 384.
Order the life of despatch, i. 32.
Order for confirming report, ii. 482.
Orders, invalid if granted by abuse, ii. 481 ; copies of,
to be kept by register, ii. 481 ; the lord chancellor's,
ii. 474; holy examinations for, ii. 427; to be set
down by register as pronounced by lord chancellor,
ii. 481 ; made, not altered on petition, though they
may be stayed, ii. 484.
Ordinances in chancery, ii. 479.
t)re, degrees of richness how known, ii. 460.
Ormus taken from Spain by the Persians, ii. 201,
214.
Ornamenta Rationalia, account of, i. 10.
Olho having slain himself, pity provoked his followers
to die, i. 12.
Orpheus, the allegory of his harp explained, ii. 184.
Orpheus, or the sirens, i. 313.
Orpheus, or philosophy, i. 295.
Orrice root, experiment touching the, ii. 119.
Ostend, valour of the English at, ii. 212.
Ostrich ran with her head off, ii. 59.
Outlawry, plea of, ii. 483.
Overbury, Sir T., poisoned in the Tower, ii. 509 ; mur-
der of, 1613, ii. 316.
Owen, Mr., charge against for high treason, ii. 3 13 ; sup-
plement to Sir Francis Bacon's speech in the King's
Bench against, ii. 512 ; his case, ii. 514.
Oxidrakes, in India, ordnance known in that city,
i. 61.
Oysters, Colchester, fattened by fresh water, ii. 94.
Pace, the bitter fool's answer to Queen Elizabeth,
i. 107.
Padua, its recovery and defence justified, ii. 202
Paget, Lady, her answer to Elizabeth, i. 121.
Paintings of the body. ii. 99.
Painting, a painter may make a better face than ever
was, i. 49.
Pain, resistance of, ii. 96.
Pallas armed, the fable of her birth containeth a secret
of empire, i. 28.
Palace, description of a perfect one, i. 50.
Palatinate, despair of recovering it by treaty, ii. 198;
recovery of it a just ground of war with Spain,
ii. 202.
Paleness, cause of, ii. 96.
Pan, or nature, i. 289 ; his beard and hair depicting
beams or influence of celestial bodies, i. 290 ; his
horns depicting a pyramid, i. 290 ; his ensigns de-
noting harmony and empire. 291.
Pan's marriage with Echo, i. 292.
Pan, his cloak representing the stars, i. 291 ; his
hunting describing progression, i. 291 ; his wrestling
with Cupid, i. 292 ; his catching Typhon in a net,
nature overcoming the elements, i. 292; his finding
Ceres, depicting inventions the work of chance,
i. 292.
Pantomimi imitate the voice, ii. 40.
Panama, the land enterprise of, ill measured, ii. 212.
Papists, more knotted in dependence towards Spain
and among themselves, ii. 206; the true reason of
the severe laws against, ii. 206.
Paj>er, experiment on chambletting of, ii. 100.
INDEX.
571
Parables, use of, i. 272.
Parable of Jotham, ii. 270 ; the gates of sleep, i. 228.
Paracelsus, his school of natural magic, i. 206 ; on
mercury atitl sulphur, ii. .'J3,
Paradise, man's work in was contemplation,!. 175;
birds of, feetless, ii. 269.
Paradoxes, represented by the fable of Echo, i. 292 ;
Christian, ii. 410.
Pardons, revision of grants of, ii. 47.1.
Parents and children, essay of, i. \b.
Paris, his judgment for beauty before wisdom, i. 183.
Paris, valour of the English at the suburbs of, ii. 212.
Parisalis poisoning one side of a knife, ii. 322.
Parks for animals, i. 267.
Parliament, the perfection of monarchy, ii. 285 ; mode
of marshaling business in, ii. 286 ; of the United
Kingdom, four considerations of, ii. 146 ; how to be
looked on, ii. 270 ; when controlled by the common
law, ii. 506 ; liberty of, ii. 276.
Parliaments, use of, ii. 380; several, one of the inter-
nal points of separation with Scotland, ii. 146.
Parma, Duke of, assists Don John of Austria, at Ri-
menant, ii. 207; a strong army ready under his
conduct to join the Sj)anish Armada, ii. 208 ; alle-
gation that he delayed coming to join the Armada,
a pretence of the Spaniards, ii. 209 ; the assailant
at the battle of Newport, ii. 21 1.
Parmenides, his opinions of unity, i. 197; the philo-
sophy of, i. 435.
Parmenides' tenet concerning cold, ii. 19.
Parrots imitate sounds, ii. 40.
Parry, a cunning traitor, the evasion he had prepared
for his treason, ii. 217.
Particular objects, their investigation not an endless
task, as that of opinions and disputes is, ii. 559.
Particular histories, catalogue of, iii. 431.
Partitions of knowledge, rule in the, i. 201.
Passion, fable of Dionysius, i. 303 ; no affectation in,
i. 45.
Passions of the mind, impressions they make on the
body, ii. 95.
Passive good, i. 221.
Passive, resistance in quantity of, ii. 460.
Patents, letter to the king from Lord Chancellor
Bacon touching, ii. 527.
Pater Patrias, ii. 266.
Patrimony of the church, ii. 378.
Patience, i. 205.
Pawlel's, Sir Amyas, saying respecting haste, i. 112.
Peace, among nations an empty name, ii. 204 ; effect
of, in fruitful kingdoms, ii. 184; disposition to, ii.
382 ; King Henry VII. said, when Christ came,
peace was sung ; when he died, it was bequeathed,
i. 381.
Peacham, Edmund, matters relating to his trial, ii. 511;
his case, ii. 514.
Peacock's examinations, letter to the king concerning,
from F. Verulam, cane, ii. 505.
Peccant humours of learning, i. 172.
Pedantical knowledge, i. 218.
Peers, names of who found the Earl of Essex guilty,
ii. 303 ; house of, power of judicature of the, ii. 380,
Pegasus, i. 293.
PelliE, answer of a Lacedsemonian taken at, to an
Athenian, i. 108.
Pellet, expulsion of the, ii. 11.
Peloponnesian war, its cause the fear of the Lacedse-
monians, and the greatness of the Athenians, ii. 203.
Penal laws, the number of them, ii. 230 ; certificate
touching the projects of Stephen Proctor relating to,
ii. 236 ; the people so ensnared in a multitude of
penal laws, that the execution of them caimot be
borne, ii. 236 ; during the reign of Jatneg I., ii. 306,
Penance of certain monks in Russia, i. 46.
Penelope's web, ii. 474.
Pensile, wlnther solid globe can remain so, ii. 586.
Pentheus, his misery from presumption, i. 295.
People not competent judges, ii. 420.
People, offences which concern the, and are capital,
ii. 292 ; olletices which concern, not capital, ii. 293 ;
the voice of the, ii. 486,
Pe|)per, its medicinal property, ii. 14.
Percussion, experiments touching, ii. 103; effect of,
upon liquids, ii. 8 ; quickness of, the cause of sound,
ii. 33.
Percussions creating tones, ii. 24.
Percolation, experiments in, ii. 7.
Perkin Warbeck, pe^jsonates the Duke of York, i. 346 ;
his birth and education, i. 347 ; conspiracy in his
favour, i. 349 ; his address to the King of Scotland,
i. 3.'i7 ; his insurrection in Cornwall, i. 365 ; accepts
Henry's mercy, i. 367 ; his confession, i. 367 ; con-
spiracy in the 'I'ower in favour of, i. 369 ; his exe-
cution at Tyburn, i. 370.
Perfect history, 1. 189.
Persian magic, i. 194.
Persians take Ormus, ii. 201, 214; their empire a
proof that multitudes of provinces are matters of
burden rather than of strength, illustrated by the
conquest of Alexander the Great, ii. 223.
Persia, its three great revolutions, ii. 229,
Perseus, or war, i. 292.
Perseus, King of Macedon, Livy's censure against his
mode of carrying on war, ii. 216.
Persecution, end of, ii. 415.
Perfection, the last part of business, i. 32 ; bred by the
practice being harder than the use, i. 45.
Perfumes, use of, ii. 127.
Peripatetics' doctrine of fire. ii. 12.
Perjury, wilful and corrupt, punishable, ii. 290
Pestilential years, experiments touching, ii. 99.
Petit treason, cases of, ii. 162; punishment of, ii. 163.
Petitions, desire of the lords at a conference that the
commons should consider of the inconveniences of
entertaining petitions concerning private injuries, ii.
196 ; reasons and precedents against their receiving
them, ii. 197; what not granted by, ii. 484 ; what
granted by, ii. 485 ; what may be stayed by, ii. 484.
Pewter, what made of, ii. 459.
Philip, King of Castile, driven on the English coast, i.
378 ; his interview with King Henry, i. 378.
Philip of Macedon, saying of his. i. 113; his dream, i.
43; replies made to him, i. 116; comparison of him
to Philip of Spain, ii. 255,
Philip the Fair, his conduct to Boniface the Vlllth, ii.
.528.
Philip of Spain, the points whereon he grounded Lis
plots, ii. 256; his conduct on Queen Elizabeth's
accession, ii. 258.
Philocrates, a wine-drinker, i. 228.
Philosophers, how they have considered nature, i. 194 ;
quantity, i. 194 ; similitude, i. 194 ; diversity, i. 194 ;
force of union, i. 191 ; why some things in mass, i.
194; why some so rare, i. 194 ; some pioneers and
some smiths, i. 195; flattery of great men by , i. 1 69 :
Greek, i. 172.
Philosof)hia prima, i. 193 ; men have abandoned, i. 173.
Philosophias, of most vigour at first, i. 85,
Philosophy and religion, remedies against the sirens,
i. 313; of commixed, prejudicial to both, i. 195.
Philosophy, human, miscellaneous tracts upon, j. 79;
university lectures, advice to raise the pension of, > at
672
INDEX.
of the Sutton estate, ii. 241 ; of athletic, little inves-
tigated, i, 20;') ; its double scale, ascendent and de-
ecendent, i. 195; superficial knowledge of, incline
the mind to atheism, i. 164; or divinity cannot be
searched too far, i. 164 ; natural, assisted by registry
of doubts, i. 200 ; natural, supported by mechanical
history, i. 188; natural, divided into three parts, i.
199 ; natural, prudence the operative part of, i, 199;
relates to the reason, i. 18V; ought to reject vain
speculations, i. 174; divine, human, and natural, i.
19.3; primitive or summary, i. 193; universal de-
scription of, i. 194; described by negative, i. 194;
vain, St. Paul's admonition against, i. 163; its ad-
vantages to religion, i. 176; conclusion of, i. 239.
Philosophy and arms, instances of concurrence in, i.
164, 165,
Philosophy and universality, professions supplied from,
i. 185.
Phocion, obstinacy of, i. 165; his saying when ap-
plauded by the people, i. 109 ; his reply to a messen-
ger from Alexander with a present, i. 118.
Physic, a man's own observation of what he finds good
the best, i. 39; university lectures of, advice to raise
the pension of, out of the Sutton estate, ii. 241 ; un-
necessary in a well-dieted body, i. 165.
Physician, a wise, will consider if disease in patient be
incurable, ii. 17.
Physicians, predictions of, i. 206 ; contrarieties of, i.
39 ; advice respecting, i. 39 ; judged by events, i.
203 ; regimens recommended by, i. 202 ; duty of, to
mitigate the pain of death, i. 204; apply themselves
to studies out of their profession, i. 203; excellence
in, little encouraged, i. 203 ; why at times less suc-
cessful than quacks, i. 204.
Physiological remains, ii. 455.
Physical causes, knowledge of, i. 199; their search
neglected, i. 198,
Physic and metaphysic, i. 195,
Physic, handleth that which is in nature a being and
moving, i. 196; inherent in matter, and transitory,
i. 196; a middle term between natural history and
metaphysic, i. 196; three parts of, i. 196.
Physiognomy, i. 201 ; deficiency in, i. 201.
Piety of Queen Elizabeth, i. 398.
Pilate, his question of truth, i. 11.
Pindarus's saying, ii. 268.
Pisa, cause of its revolt from Florence, ii. 155.
I'tsistratus, tyranny of, mollified by Solon's laws,
ii. 234.
Pismire, the sluggard directed to the, ii. 387.
Pistachoes, excellent nourishment, ii. 15.
Pirates, war on, ii. 442 ; infestation of, ii. 475.
Pits, upon the sea-shore, return of sallness in. ii. 121.
Pit digging, for water, Cffisar's knowledge of, ii. 7.
Pity, effect of, ii. 96.
Pius Quintus, a learned pope who excelled in govern-
ment, i. 165; joy of, ii. 135.
Place, essay of great, i. 19.
Plague, in London, and many other parts of England,
i. 370 ; as to receiving, ii. 126.
Plagues in Cairo, ii. 100.
Plantagenet, Earl of Warwick, son of Clarence, impri-
soned, i. 316; involved in Perkin Warbeck's con-
spiracy, i. 370 ; his executiim, i. 370.
Plantagenet. Elizabeth II., married to Henry VII., i.
319; crowned two years after, i. 325 ; her death,
i. 174.
Planting timber, ii. 384.
Planting hemp, ii. 384.
I'lantatioris, considerations touching the, in Ireland, ii.
183, 185; essay on, i. 41 ; the children of former:
kingdoms, i. 4 1 ; what people you should plant with,
i. 4 1 ; the sinfullest thing to forsake a plantation,
i. 42.
Plantations and buildings necessary to reduce Irclan/l
to civility, ii. 188.
Plant, the sleeping, ii. 82.
Plants, 8ymi)athy and antipathy of, ii. 67 ; exfjerimenta
promiscuous touching, ii. 82 ; seasons in which they
come forth, ii. 77; rudiments and excrescences of.
ii. 74; why they live l'>iiger than men, ii. 16; expe-
riments on foreign, ii. 77 ; producing of perfect with-
out seed, ii. 76 ; degenerating of, ii. 72 ; of miking
them medicinable, ii. 69 ; several figures of, ii. 78 ;
earth not necessary to the sprouting of, ii. 85 ; touch-
ing the principal iliflerences of, ii. 79 ; effect of wind
upon, ii. 87 ; growth of, helped by dust, ii. 88 ;
grafting of, ii. 62, 64 ; without leaves, experiment
touching, ii. 103; growth of, affected by the moon,
ii. 123; different sexes in. ii. 81 ; transmutation of,
ii. 72 ; melioration of, ii. 62.
Plants and animate bodies, ditference between, ii. 81.
Plants and living creatures, affinities and differences
in, ii. 81.
Plants and fruits, curiosities about, ii. 70.
Plaster, growing as hard as marble, ii. 106.
Plato's reverence for true division and definition, i. 90 ;
advice to the peofile respecting Diogenes, i. 112;
answer to Diogenes, i. 114; commonwealth, ii. 286 ;
Protagoras, i. 33 ; school, character of, i. 99 ; saying
of custom, i. 118; saying of Socrates, i. 118; opi-
nion of ideas, i. 197; opinion of knowledge, i. 161 ;
opinion of the action of the body and mind, i. 202 ;
objection to the manners of his country, i. 167;
commendation of virtue, i. 216; opinion of unity, i.
197; observation on invention, i. 207; error in
mixing [ihilosophy with theology, i. 173; com[>a-
rison of Socrates to gallipots, i. 168.
Plato, i. 210, 21 1; familiar with errors in logic, i. 208;
compared rhetoric to cookery, i. 216 ; remarks on
his system of natural philosophy, i. 427 ; subjected
the world to his contemplations, i. 438.
Platonic school and Patricias, what they have said
concerning the heaven of heavens and pure space,
mere figments, ii. 580.
Plea, definite, ii. 482.
Plea of outlawry, ii. 483.
Pleas for discharging the suit, ii. 482.
Pleas, common, dispute in, whether it can grant prohi-
bition to stay suits in chancery, ii. 514.
Pleasure, arts of, i. 205 ; saying of the poets of, i. 73;
of the affections greater than of the senses ; of the
intellect greater than of the affections, i. 79.
Pleasures of knowledge the greatest, i. 183; of the
affections and senses surpassed by those of the in-
tellect, i. 183.
Plinius Secundus, why his fame lasts, i. 57 ; his say-
ing of praises of others, i. 57.
Pliny quoted as to metals, ii. 459.
Plough, what the following of good for, ii. 127.
Plutarch, his saying respecting an unworthy opinion
of the gods, i. 2.5 ; of the acts of Timolcon, i. 47,
77; apophthegms draw much dregs, i. 107; saying
of i. 123.
Plutus, the fable of, when sent from Jupiter and when
sent from Juno, i. 42.
Plutus Timidus, ii. 227.
Pluralities, ii. 428.
Plumage and pilosity, experiment touching, ii. 89.
Plowden, sketch of life of in note. ii. 498.
Pneumaticals in bodies, the two kuids of, ii. 115.
Poem, ii. 438.
INDEX.
573
Poesy, a pleasure of imagination, i. 207 ; refers to the
imagination, i. l'J2; relates to the imai^iiiatioii, i.
187 ; is narrative, representative, and allusive, i,
192; no delicience in, i. 193; expresses the pas-
sions and afleclions hettcr than the works of philo-
sophers, i. 193; heathen, considered, i. 193; divine,
considered, i. 193 ; springs up without formal seed,
i. 193.
Poetry, Bacon's opinion of, i. 271.
I' jets, allegory of the, as to knowledge, i. 164; make
men witty, i. 55 ; their picture of fame, i. G2; a
lightness in them to feign hope as a counter-poison
of diseases, i. 69.
Poison, cantharides fly, ii. 318.
Poisons, mixing of, ii. 318.
Poisoning, remarks on crime of, ii. 322.
Poisonous plants, ii. 84.
Poland, state of during the time of Queen Elizabeth,
ii. V48.
Pole, Michael de la, case of, ii. 527.
Policies of state, an impediment to knowledge, i. 95.
Policy, an order in the government of an estate, ii.
138; books of, i. 191.
Politicians, unlearned, refer all things to themselves,
i. 168 ; predictions of, i. 206 ; objections to learning
by, i. 1C2; judged by events, i. 203; integrity of
learned, i. 168 ; their objections to learning answered,
i. 164.
Political economy, ii. 385.
]*olycrates, his daughter's dream, i. 43.
Polyphemus's courtesy, ii. 205.
Pomegranates, their use, ii. 467.
Ponipey, an answer of his, i. 114.
Ponipeius Magnus, memorable speech of, i. 219; his
wisdom, i. 229, 234.
I'ont-Gharenton echo, ii. 41.
}*oor. observations concerning their relief from hospi-
tals, ii. 240.
Pope of Rome, cartels of, ii. 389.
Pope Clement, Charles V. treatment of, ii. 390.
Pojjes, the most learned friars have ascended to be,
i. 165.
Popham's, the speaker, answer to Queen Elizabeth,
i. 111.
Population, greatness too often ascribed to, ii. 222 ;
more tokens of surcharge of people than of want
and depopulation, ii. 253; true greatness consists
essentially in, ii. 222.
Popularity, delight in, ii. 137.
Porches of death, iii. 508.
I'ortugal, state of, in time of Queen Elizabeth, ii. 248.
Possil)ility, nature of, ii. 440.
Postils of his majesty in Earl Somerset's business and
charge, ii. 517.
Post-meridian sleeps, ii. 16.
Post-nati of Scotland, argument respecting, ii. 166.
Postures of the body, li. 99.
Pot-metal, ii. 459.
Poundage, hardship of, ii. 267.
Poverty of fiiars, Machiavei's observation on, i. 166.
Powder, the effect of the shot upon, ii. 8 ; as to sup-
ply of, ii. 383 ; white, dangerous, ii. 27.
Powders and liquors, incorjioration of, ii. 46.
Powers, intellectual, discourse concerning, i. 104.
Power to do good, the lawful end of aspiring, i. 19 ;
knowledge is, i. 182.
Power and wisdom, difference between, apparent in
ttie creation, i. 174.
Poynings, Sir Edward, sent to invest Sluice, i. 343 ;
his commission to Ireland, i. 353 ; his memorable
law, i. 354.
Praise of Elizabeth, disronr«cs in, ii. 44.5.
Praise of knowledge, i. 174; a rudiment both of the
advancement of learning and of the Novum Orga*
num, i. 7, 79.
Praise, essay on, i. 56.
Praise of the king, i. 161.
Prayers, by Ilneon, ii. 405.
Preachers, mode of educating, ii. 417; evils of igno-
rant, ii. 427.
Preaching, observations on, ii. 419 ; ministry, ii. 427;
education for, ii. 427.
Prece()t8, i. 236 ; vicious, i. 237 ; four, for health, ii.
469.
Prerii)iiation of metals, ii. 461,462.
Precedents, sometimes satisfy more than statutes, iL
179; importance of knowing, ii. 478.
Precursors; or anticipations of the second philosophy,
iii. 521.
Predictions of politirians, i. 206 ; of astronomers, i.
206 ; of physicians, i. 206 ; to be despised, for the
spreading of them is mischievous, i. 43.
Preface, by Lord Bacon, i. 285.
Prefaces, great waste of time, i. 32 ; preoccupation of
mind requires preface, i. 32 ; too many l>efore the
matter is wearisome ; none at all is blunt, i. 41.
Preferment, upon what ()rinciple to bu made ; ii. 378 ;
caution to be used in, ii. 379.
Prejudice and ignorance, ii. 415.
Prelates, their contests with their kings, i. 27.
Peeemunire, ii. 489; cases of, ii. 161; punishment,
trial, and proceedings in, ii. 165; for suits in the
chancery, ii. 514.
Prcnotion and emblem, i. 212.
Preparation, the first part of business, i. 32.
Preparation and suggestion, i. 209.
Prerogative, Sir E. Coke's letter concerning, ii. 507 ;
defving of, ii. 50S ; danger to his majesty's, ii. 492 ;
turbulent bearing of Lord Coke concerning parts of
his majesty's, ii. 500 ; cases of the king's in Parlia-
ment, ii. 165 ; in war and peace, ii. 165 ; in matters
of money, ii. 106; of traile and traffic, ii. 166; in
the persiiiis of his suljerts, ii. 166; of the king
revealed by law, ii. 291 ; the king's, what, ii. 478 ;
first part of the law, ii. 450.
Prescripts in use, too compendious to attain their end,
i. 205.
Priest and minister, ii. 426.
I'ressure, motion of bodies upon their, ii. 8.
Preserving ointments, ii. 460.
Preservation of bodies, experiment on the, ii. 108.
Pretors, Roman, their conduct, ii. 471.
Pride, impediment to knowledge, i. 95.
I'rimitive divination, i. 206.
I'rinces and governors, learned, advantages of, i. 164,
165.
Princes, advantages of learned, i. 166, 177; the most
learned are the best, i. 162; conjunction between
learned, and the happiness of their people, i. 177.
179.
Prince of Wales, ii. 381.
Prince Charles, dedication to, i. 314.
Principiation, or elements, ii. 160.
Priority of suit, as to granting an injunction upon
mere, ii. 472.
Private good, i. 221.
Privy council, how to form a, ii. 381.
Privilege, writs of ii. 481.
F'robus did himself hurt by a speech, i. 24.
Proclamation, or king's entry, ii. -151 ; or king'i style,
ii. 453.
Procedendo, when granted, ii. 480.
574
INDEX.
Proctor, Stephen, certificate touching his projects re-
lating to the penal laws, ii. 236.
Profit, contempt of, ii. 446.
Professions, universities dedicated to, i. 185; supplied
from philosophy and universality, i. 185.
Prometheus, or the state of man, i. 305.
I'romotion of officers, ii. 383.
Proofs, human, of advantage of learning, i. 302.
Properties, secret, ii. 136.
Prophecies, punishable by imprisonment, ii. 292 ; es-
say on, i. 43.
Propinquity, sympathy in, ii. 134.
Proserpina, or the ethereal spirit of the earth, i. 311 ;
or spirit, i. 310 ; fable of, quoted, ii. 23.
Prosperity, minds puffed up by, soonest dejected by
adversity, ii. 488.
Proteus, or matter, i. 297.
Proud men, all full of delays, ii. 195.
Provision for clergy, ii. 429.
Providences, judgments, &c., history of, i. 192.
Psalms, translation of, ii, 431.
Public good, i. 220.
Pulp offish more nourishing than their flesh, ii. 14.
Purgative astringents, ii. 468.
Purge for opening the liver, ii. 466.
Purging, preparations before, ii. 18.
Purging medicines, how they lose their virtue, ii. 9 ;
experiment on, ii. 13.
Purveyors, speech touching, ii. 266 ; abuses of, ii. 267.
Purveyance due to the king, ii. 388.
Purification, of church, ii. 420.
Pursuit, objects of, i. 227.
Pufeoli, court of Vulcan, ii. 106.
Putrefaction, nxost contagious before maturity, i. 175;
generation by, ii. 123; of water, ii. 109; touching
the causes of, ii. 113; of bodies, prohibition of, ii.
104; creatures bred of, ii. 92 ; preventing of, ii. 51 ;
inducing and accelerating of, ii. 50.
Pygmalion's frenzy an emblem of vain learning, i. i70.
Pythagoras, i. 198; a looker on, i. 222 ; philosophy
of, ii. 124 ; his parable, i. 34; his speech to Cicero,
i. 121.
Pyrrhus's teeth, undivided, ii. 101.
Pyrrhus's answer to the congratulations for his victory
over the Romans, i. 118.
QtJARTiTEs, query as to, ii. 463; experiment touching,
ii. 116.
Queen Elizabeth, incensed at the book of History of
Henry IV. dedicated to Essex, ii. 337 ; report of
treasons meditated by Doctor Lopez against, ii. 216 ;
first copy of a discourse touching the safety of her
person, ii. 214 ; first fragments of a discourse touch-
ing intelligence and the safety of the queen's person,
ii. 214; her service in Ireland, considerations touch-
ing, ii. 188; her message to the Earl of Essex,
ii. 357.
Queen of Bohemia, letter to, i. 276.
Questions, lecal, for the judges in Somerset's case, ii.
516 ; touching minerals, ii. 458 ; of Meverel, ii. 458 ;
on religious war, 444.
Quicksilver, nature and force of, ii. 12 ; its property of
mixing with metals, ii. 459 ; metals swim upon,
ii. 104.
Quiescence, seeming, i. 411.
Quinces, how to keep them long, ii. 83.
Rabklais's saying after receiving extreme unction,
i. 110.
Raleigh, Sir Walter, anecdotes of, apophthegm respect-
ing, i. 107, 109, 122, 123; letter concerning, from
Lord C. Bacon, to Marquis of Buckingham, ii. 5^5,
demeanour and carriaje of, ii. 525 ; letter to the
king touchitis proceedings against, ii. 524 ; when
beheaded, ii. 524; his saying that the Spanish Ar-
mada was driven away with squibs, ii. 200, 209.
Rain, scarcity of, in Egypt, ii. 103.
Rains and dews, how ()roduced, ii. 10, 20.
Rainbow, sweetness of odour from the, ii. 112.
Rainsford, Sir John, his prayer to Queen Elizabeth to
set free the four evangelists, with the queen's an-
swer, i. 107.
Ramus, his rules, i. 215.
Ratclirtb, Richard, his attainder, i. 318.
Raveline, valour of the English at the, ii. 212.
Rawloy's life of Bacon, notice of his great fame abroad,
i. 275.
Rawley's dedication of New Atlantis, i. 25.5.
Reading makes a full man, i. 55.
Reading on the statute of uses, iii. 295.
Reason, philosophy relates to the, i. 187; its limits, i.
239; the key of arts, i. 207; governs the imagina-
tion, i. 206 ; preserved against melancholy by wine,
ii. 466.
Rebellion, her majesty's directions thereupon judicial
and sound, ii. 562 ; of Lord Lovel and the two Staf-
fords, i. 319.
Rebellions during Queen Elizabeth in England and
Ireland, ii. 285.
Receipts and finances, one of the internal points of
separation with Scotland, ii. 146; considerations
touching them, ii. 148.
Recei[)ts, for cooking capons, ii. 15; medical, of Lord
Bacon, ii. 469.
Recipes for preserving health, ii. 468.
Recognisance, as to filing, ii. 484.
Recreation, games of, i, 205.
Recusants, harbouring, punishable, ii. 290.
Redargution, i. 210.
Reduction of metals, modes of, ii. 462.
Reference to masters, ii. 482.
Refining ore from dross, ii. 460.
Reform, ii. 415, 417 ; necessity for, ii. 421 ; of church,
ii. 421 ; bisiiop^ err in resisting, ii. 417.
Reformer, true spirit of, ii. 421.
Reformation of fees, ii. 278 ; of abuses, ii. 267.
Rege inconsulto, case of, ii. 513 ; writs of, ii. 514.
Regimen of health, essay on, i. 39 ; of the body, i. 202.
Registry of doubts, i. 200 ; uses of, i. 200.
Register to keep copies of all orders, ii. 481.
Registers, directions to, in drawing up decrees, ii. 482 ;
to be sworn, ii. 481.
Rejection of natures from the form of heat, iii. 384.
Religion, unity in, essay of, i. 12; pure religion, is to
visit orphans and widows, i. 6'J ; why religion should
protect knowledge, i. 83 ; many stops in its state to
the course of invention, i. 99 ; the most sovereign
medicine to alter the will, i. 105 ; impediment of the
heathen and superstition to knowledge, i. 95; of
the Turkish, i. 95 ; alteration of, by Elizabeth, ii.
245 ; advice upon, by whom, ii. 377 ; anaba[itist, ii.
314; propagation of the .Mohammedan, ii. 314; de-
fensive wars for, are just, ii. 202; propositions for a
college for controversies in, ii. 241 ; its three decli-
nations, i. 244; revealed, i. 239; advantage of phi-
losophy to, i. 176 ; necessary for the recovery of the
hearts of the Irish people, ii. 189; toleration recom-
mended, ii. 189 ; opinion that time will facilitate re-
formation of, in Ireland, ii. 191 ; of Turks, it. 438 ;
encouragement of, ii. 476.
Religion and philosophy prejudiced by being commixeJ
together, i. 195.
INDEX.
575
Relicioufi cenoure, moralists', ii. 4)8.
liciiuious conlroversy, errors in, ii. 414; stylo of,
ii.413,
Reli(?ioii8 war, questions in, ii. 444.
Reliijious sects, effects of exlirpntini? by violence set
forth in the faMe of Uiomedes, i. 300.
ReinemhrHnces of the king's declaration touching Lord
Coke, ii. ftOO ; for the king, before his going into
Scotland, ii. 537.
Remedies against the sirens, i. 313.
Remains, phytiiological, ii. 4.'S.5.
KciKirt of the tSpanish grievances, ii. 193; of Lopez's
treason, ii. 194 ; order for confirmed, ii. 4S2.
Reports, ('oke's faults in, not his own, ii. 499 ; letter
to the king touchini? a retractation by Lord Coke of
some parts of his, ii. 498.
Reporters, advice to appoint sound lawyers to be, ii.
Reputation, essay on honour and, i. 57.
Requests, against the court of ii. 514.
Residence of clergy, examination of, ii. 428.
Residents, non, evils of, ii. 428.
Restless nature of things in themselves, ii. 108.
Rosppcfs, essay on, and ceremonies, i, 56.
Restitution, i. 301 ; letter touching, ii. 462.
Restorative drink, on, ii. 467.
Retreats, honourable, no ways inferior to brave charges,
ii. 208.
Retrenchment of delays in equity, ii. 471.
Revealed religion, i. 239.
Revenge, memorable defence of the, under Sir Richard
Greenvil, when attacked by the Spanish fleet, ii.
210 ; essay of, i. 14.
Revenue, grants of, ii. 473.
Revenues of the crown must be preserved, ii. 388.
Revolt, the laws as to, ii. 364.
Revocation of uses, case of, iii. 280.
Reward, amplitude of, encourages labour, i. 184.
Rhetoric, i. 215; too early taught in universities, i.
180 ; tropes of, i. 180; imaginative reason the sub-
ject of, i. 207; compared by Plato to cookery, i.
216; its sophisms, i. 217.
Rheum, breakfast a preservative against, ii. 466.
Rhubarb, its property, it. 14 ; contrary operations of,
ii. 9.
Richard IIL, enormities committed by, i. 314.
Richardson's, Mr. Serjeant, ejccuse for the place of
speaker not accepted by the king, ii. 284 ; his rea-
sons for refusing the excuse, ii. 284.
Riches, essay on, i. 42 ; the poet's saying of, i. 73 ;
Mr. Bettenham's opinion of, i. 121 ; when treasure
adds greatness to a slate, ii. 226; excess of, makes
men slothful and effeminate, ii. 227 ; greatness too
often ascribed to, ii. 222, 226 ; the great monarchies
had their foundations in poverty, as Persia, Sparta,
.Macedonia, Rome, Turkey, ii. 157, 226.
Rice should be cultivated in new plantations, i. 41.
Right side, experiment touching the, ii. 121.
Ririienant, repulse of the S[)aniards under Don John
of Austria, by the states-general, chiefly by the
English and Scotch troops under Colonels Norris
and Stuart, ii. 207.
Riot at Essex Hou.se. ii. 357.
Ripening of drink before time, ii. 89.
Rivers, navigable, great help to U^iie, ii. 387.
Robe "rf mercy, the white, ii. 319.
Roberts, Jack, his answer to his tailor, i. 109 ; his
saying respecting a marriage, i. 1 14.
Rock rubies, the exudation of stone, ii. 7.
Rolls, decrees drawn at the, ii. 482; examination of
court, ii. 484.
Rome, practice of the church of, 1.58 ; flourishe«l nuvit
under learned governors, i. 165; the |M-rf«-ctiori of
government of and learning contemfioraneous, i. 1C6.
Roman ein|ierors' titles, ii. 266.
Roman law of homicide, ii. 297.
Roman unguent, receipt for, ii. 469.
Roman prators, their conduct, ii. 471.
Romans, the most open of any state to receive stiaogers
into their l>ody, i. 37 ; granted the jus civitatis ti»
families, cities, and sometimes nations, i. 37; always
foremost to assist their confederates, i. 38 ; the only
states that were good commixtures, ii. 140; lilierul
of their naturalizations, ii. 140; which .Machiavel
judged to be the cause of the growth of their em-
pire, ii. 140; their four degrees of freedom and na-
turalization, ii. 141, 170; their union with the La-
tins, ii. 155; aAer the social war their naturalization
of the Latins, ii. 155; naturalization of the Latins
and the Gauls, and the reason for it, ii. 224; their
empire received no diminution in territory until
Jovinianus, ii. 223; shortly afterwards it became a
carcass for the birds of prey of the world, ii. 223 ;
four of their kings lawgivers, ii. 231.
Roorv, Ovvny .Mac, Chief of the Oinoores in Lcinster,
ii.'351.
Roots, more nourishing than leaves, ii. 14; of trees, ii.
86 ; three cubits deep, ii. 88.
Roses, preparation of artificial for smell, ii. 466.
Rose-leaves, preserving of colour and smell of, ii. 55.
Rose-water, virtue of ii. 127.
Rubies, rock, are the exudations of stone, ii. 7.
Rules for a chancellor, ii. 471.
Rules and maxims of the common laws, iii. 219.
Rust, turning metals to. ii. 4G0, 461.
Rustics, why Pan the god of i. 291.
Rutland, examination of Roger, Earl of, ii. 371.
Sabbath, the, i. 175.
Sabines, their mixture with the Romans, ii. 140.
Sal'inian, the successor of Gregory, persecuted his
memory for his injustice to heathen antiijuity, i.
98.
Sacrifice. No sacrifice without salt, a positive precept
of the old law, ii. 239 ; its moral, ii. 239.
Saffron, the preparing of ii. 466 ; a few grains will
tincture a tun of water, i. 89.
Saffron flowers, distilled, good for, ii. 128.
Saggi .Morali, the Italian title of the essays, i. 5.
Salamander, touching the, ii. 1 18.
Salique law, saying respecting, i. 117.
Salisbury, Owen, notorious robber, ii. 336.
Sal, as to its separation from metal, ii. 460.
Salt, history of, iii. 466.
Salt of lead, or sulphur, mixing of, ii. 460.
Salt water, experiments on, ii. 7; dulcoration of, ii.
121.
Samuel sought David in the field, i. 208.
Sanctuary, the privileges of, i. 326.
Sand, of the nature of glass, ii. 105; better than earth
j for strainintr water, ii. 7 ; liquor leaveth its saltness
if strained through, ii. 7; differences between earth
and, ii. 7.
Sandys, Lord William, confession of, ii. 371 ; his opi-
nion of Sapientia Velernm, i. 272.
San, Josepho, invades Ireland with Spanish forces in
1580, ii. 260.
Sanquhar, Lord, charge against, on his arraignment, iu
311.
Sap of trees, ii. 87.
Sapientia Veterum, opinions upon, by Sandys and
Tenison, i. 272.
576
INDEX.
Sarah's laughter an image of natural reason, i. 239.
Satiety, meats that induce, ii. 46.
Saturn, i. 296 ; ii. 579.
Savil's, Mr., ojiinion respecting poets, i. 111.
Savil, Sir Henry, letter to, i. 104 ; answer to Coranus,
i. 117.
Savoy, state of during the time of Queen Elizabeth,
ii. 248.
Savages, the proper conduct towards them in planta-
tions, i. 41.
Saviour's (our) first show of his power, i. 176.
Scale, nature of notes of, ii. 25.
Scaling ladder of the intellect, iii. 519.
Scaliger's sixth sense, ii. 91,
Scammony, strong medicine, ii. 9.
Scandal, charge against Sir J. Wentworth for, ii.
307.
Scarlet, touching the dye of, ii. 122,
Scent of dogs almost a sense by itself, ii. 92.
Schoolmen. Cyniini sectores, i. 55 ; the origin of
their cobwebs, i. 70 ; incorporated Aristotle's philo-
sophy into the Christian religion, i. 97 ; saying
of them by the bishops at the council at Trent, i.
122,
Schools, too many grammar, ii. 241.
Science, authors in, ought to be consuls, and not
dictators, i. 172; error of over-early reducing into
methods and arts, i. 173; badges of false, i. 170;
the strength of, is in the union of its parts, i.
171.
Sciences, want of invention in professors of, i. 174;
errors in the formation of, i. 173; confederacy of,
with the imagination, i. 172; imaginary, i, 199;
growth of, checked by dedication of colleges to pro-
fessions, i. 185.
Sciences and arts, invention in, deficient, i. 207,
Scientific efforts, on the combination and succession
of, ii. 557.
Scipio Africanus, Livy's saying of him, i. 48,
Scire facias, when awarded, ii. 484,
Scotchmen, the statute for voiding them out of Eng-
land, i, 343 ; speech on the naturalization of, ii.
150.
Scotch skinck, how made, ii. 14.
Scotland, its state during Queen Elizabeth, ii. 248 ;
as to union with, ii. 383 ; truce with, i. 326; Perkin
Warbeck's reception in, i. 356 ; king of, ravages
Northumberland, i. 358 ; preparations for a war
with, i. 30 1 ; peace with, i. 364; suggestion of
courts for the borders of, ii. 143 ; the points wherein
the nations were united, ii. 143; external points
of separation with, ii, 144; internal point,*! of sepa:
ration with, ii. 146; cotnmissioner's certificate of
union with, ii. 149; argument respecting the post-
nati of, ii. 166; discourse of the happy union with,
ii. 138 ; considerations touching the union of Eng-
land and, ii. 143,
Scotland and England, union of, ii. 452, 454.
Scotus, his answer to Charles the Bald, i. 114.
Scribonianus, answer of his freedman to the freedman
of Claudius, i, 112.
Scripture, no deficiency in, i. 244 ; interpretation of,
methodical and solute, i. 241 ; interpretation of, i,
241.
Scriptures exhort us to study the omnipotency of
God, i. 176 ; meditations on. i. 71 ; do not restrain
science, i. 82, 98 ; honour the name of the invent-
ors of music and works in metal, i. 98.
Scylla, fable of, an image of contentious learning, i.
171 , the fiction of an emblem of the present phi-
losophy,!. 87.
Scylla and Icarus, or the middle way, i. 309.
Sea, lord admiral's right of determining as to acts com
mittcd on the high, ii. 502; the commandment of
it one of the points of true greatness in a stale, ii,
223; different clearness of the, ii. 90; importance
of the mastery of it, i. 38 ; great effects of battles
by, i. 38;- ebb and flow of iii. 523; motions of, are
only five, iii. 523 ; the great six-hours diurnal mo-
tion principally treated, iii. 523 ; motions of cur-
rents do not contradict the notion of a natural and
catholic motion of the sea, iii. 523 ; grand diurnal
motion not one of elevation or depression, iii. 524 ;
elevated all over the world at equinoxes, and at the
new and full moon, iii. 524; objections to the opi-
nion that the diurnal motion is a progressive one,
from the fact that in some places wells have simul-
taneous motions with the sea, and from the fact that
waters are raised and depressed simultaneously on
the shore of Europe and Florida, considered, iii.
524, 525 ; ebb and flow of, from what cause it
arises, iii. 525 ; whence arises the reciprocal action
of tides once in six hours, iii. 528 ; explanation of
the difference of tides connected with the moon's
moli(m, iii. 529.
Sea-fish put in fresh waters, ii, 94.
Sea-shore, wells on, ii. 7.
Sea-weed, ii. 76.
Sea or other water, colour of, ii. 120.
Seas, rolling and breaking of the, ii. 121.
Seals, one of the external points of separation with
Scotland, ii. 144.
Seasons, pestilential, ii. 57 ; prognostics of pestilential,
ii. 91.
Secrecy, a great means of obtaining suits, i, 54.
Secret properties, ii. 136.
Sects, the greatest vicissitude, i. 39 ; the two properties
of new sects to supplant authority, to give license
to plebsures, i. 61 ; the throe plantations, i. 61 ; di-
versities of, i. 200 ; religious, effect of extirpating
by violence, i. 300.
Sedition and troubles, essay of i. 22.
Seed, what age is best, ii. 88 ; producing perfect
plants without, ii. 76.
Seeds, most, leave their husks, ii. 86.
Self essay of wisdom for a man's self, i. 31.
Selt-love maketh men unprofitable like the narcissus,
i. 288.
Self-revelation, i. 234.
Selden, .lohn, to Lord Viscount St. Alban, ii. 530.
Senators, advantages of learned, i. 177.
Seneca, i. 210, 219; ii. 435; Nero's opinion of his
style, i. Ill; his saymg of Cajsar, i. 1 15 ; his saying
of death, i. 12; on prosperity and adversity, i. 14;
his prophecy of America, i. 43; why his fame lasts,
i. 57; his saying on anger, i. 59; his description of
Cajsar, ii. 234; government of Rome by, i. 165.
Senna, how windip.ess taken from, ii. 10.
Sense, Scaliger's sixth, ii. 91; imagination imitating
the force of the, ii. 107.
Senses, reporters to the mind, i. 162; greatest of tl e
pleasures of the, ii. 91; spiritual species which al.
feet the. ii. 128.
Sentences, collection of out of the Mimi of Puhiius, i
127, 128; out of some of Lord Bacon's writmgs, .
129—131.
Sentient bodies, harmony of with insentient, i. 412.
Sequela chartarum, i. 100.
Sequestration, where granted, ii. 481 ; of spiicific
hmds, ii. 481.
Separation of bodies by weight, ii. S ; of metals
miiierals, ii. 460.
INDEX.
677
Sepulchre, flies p;et dnrnhle in amher, ii. 24.
Serjeants, care in niakinsr, ii. 37i).
Sertnones fideles, the title of the Latin edition of the
Essays, i. 5.
Serpent, me<Ulalion8 on the wisdom of, i. G7.
Severus, his death, i. 12 ; his friendship for Plantianim,
i. 34 ; his chiinictcr, i. 48; saying of him, i. 113;
Rome governed hy, i. U)5.
Seven wise men of Greece, anecdotes of them, i.
119.
Sewers, suit for the commission of, ii. 485,
Sexes, different in ()lants, ii. 81.
Sextus v.. Pope, character of, ii, 212.
Sextus Quintus. a learned pope, who excelled in go-
vernment, i. 16.5,
Shadows, experiment touching, ii. 121.
Shame causelh blushing, ii. 96.
Shaw, specimen of his translation of the Latin edition
of the Essays, i. 6.
Shell, experiment touching the casting of, in some
creatures, ii. 98.
Shellfish, touching, ii. 120.
Sheen Palace, burning of, i. 368.
Sheep, Cato's saying of, ii. 270; nature of, ii. 102.
Sheriffs of counties, choice of, ii. 379 ; their attendance
upon the judges a civility, atid of use, ii. 379.
Shipbuilding, art of, in England, ii. 383.
Shot, the effect of, on powder, ii. 8.
Showers, when they do good, ii. 87.
Sextus Quintus, feigned tale of, i. 112.
Sibylla, burning two, doubled the price of the other
book, i. 77.
Sickness, Dr. Johnson's opinion of the three things
material in, i. 122.
Sicknesses, winter and summer, ii. 57.
Sight, experiment touching the, ii. 119 ; cause of dim-
ness in the, ii. 91.
Sigismond, Prince of Transylvania, the revolt, from
the Turks of Transylvania, Wallachia, and Molda-
via under, ii. 156.
Silk, a likely commodity in new plantations, i. 41.
Silver, weight of in water, ii. 464 ; and tin, mixture
of, ii. 456 ; making, ii. 457 ; incorporates with cop-
per, ii. 459 ; exportation of, ii. 283.
Simon, the priest, imprisoned for life, i. 325.
Simnell, personates Edward Plantagenet, i. 320 ; is
taken to Ireland, i. 321 ; his entry into Dublin as
Edward VI., i. 321 ; crowned in Dublin, i. 323;
taken prisoner in Newark, i. 325 ; made a scullion
in the king's kitchen, i. 325.
Simonides's reply when asked what he thought of
God, i. 120.
Simulation and dissimulation, essay of, i. 14.
Single life, marriage and, essay of, i. 16.
Sirens, or pleasures, i. 312.
Sister of giants, or fame, i. 294.
Situation, a fit situation necessary for the greatness of
a state, ii. 222, 228; excellent situation of Egypt,
ii. 228 ; of Babylon, although the sovereignties
alter, the seat of the monarch remains there, ii.
228 ; Alexander the Great chose Babylon for his
seat, ii. 228 ; of Persia, ii. 229 ; of Constantinople,
ii. 229.
Skin, experiments touching the casting of the, ii. 98.
Skins, Chinese paint their, ii. 99.
Skull, experiment touching, ii. 101.
Sleep, experiment touching, ii. 100; cold prcventeth,
ii. 100; great nourishment to iiodies, ii. 100; some
noises help, ii. 101; nourishment of, ii. 16.
Sleep all winter, touching creatures that, IL 123.
Sleeps, post-meridian, ii. 16.
Vol. III.— 73 v
Small, trivial things, the consideration of not below
the dignity of the human mind, ii. !^59.
Smell, preparations of artificial roses for, ii. 466.
Smells, touching sweet, ii. 112; corporeal Fubfitanco
of, ii. 112; experiment touching, ii. 58.
Smith, Sir T„ his accusation, ii. 341
Snakes have venomous teeth, ii. 101.
Sneezing, experiment touching, ii. 90 ; Guinea pepper
causes, ii. 127.
Snow, dissolves fastest upon the sea-coast, i. 102; se-
cret warmth of, ii. 92.
Snows, effect of lying long, ii. 87,
Soccage, heir in, when he may reject the guardian ap-
pointed by law, ii. 489.
Society, aversion to, is like a savage beast, i. 33 ; na-
ture of, an impediment to knowledge, i. 95.
Socrates, i. 188. 208, 210 ; excellent, though deformed,
i. 49 ; full of ostentation, i. 57 ; his saying when
pronounced by the oracle the wisest man of Greece,
i. 120; his opinion of Heraclitus the obscure, i. 120
Cicero's complaint against, for separating philosophy
and rhetoric, i, 201 ; Hippias's dispute with, on his
sordid instances, i. 188; the accusation against,
was under the basest of tyrants, i. 166 ; his ironical
doubting to be avoided, i. 174 ; Anytus's accusation
against, i. 164; Plato's comparison of, to gallipota,
i. 168.
Soils, different for different trees, ii. 87; some put
forth odorate herbs, ii. 128.
Soisson, Count, apophthegm of, i, 107.
Soldiers, the fitness of every subject to make a soldier,
a point of true greatness in a state, ii. 223.
Sole government of bishops, error of, ii. 423.
Solitude, saying respecting delight in, i. 33; magna
civitas, magna soliiudo, i. 33 ; a miserable solitude
to want true friends, i. 33.
Solomon, said to have written a natural history, i. 82 ;
natural history by, ii. 74 ; his saying respecting
business, i. 56 ; his praising a just man losing his
cause, i. 58 ; his novelty, i. 60 ; his parables, iii. 222 :
his observations on the mind of man, i. 162; an
example of wisdom, i. 176; humility of, i. 176.
Solomon's house, plan to erect one, as modelled in the
New Atlantis, ii. 463.
Solon, his answer as to the best laws, i. 167 ; answers
of his, i. 113, 118, 120, 125 ; his speech to Croesus,
i. 37 ; his laws spoken of in grammar-schools, ii.
231, 234; had a spirit of reviver, though often op-
pressed, often restored, ii. 234 ; his answer to Croe-
sus's showing his riches, ii. 157, 225.
Solution of metals, qualities of metals should be as-
certained, ii. 460.
Somerset, heads of the charge against Robert, Earl of,
ii. 516; respecting Sir Francis Bacon's manage-
ment in the case of his arraignment, ii. 516 ; letter
to the king about, ii. 326 ; letter from Sir T. Over-
bury, ii 509; charge against, ii. 321; his case,
questions for the judges in, ii. 516; (}uestions for
the king's council in, ii. 516; his business and
charge, with his majesty's apostyles, ii. 517; bis
examination, letter to the king about, ii, 331.
Somerset, Frances, Countess of, charge against, ii.
315; charge against, for poisoning Sir T. Overbu-
ry, ii. 318.
Soothsayer, Egyptian, worked upon Antonius's miiid,
ii. 129.
Sorrel, nature of, ii. 88.
Soul, nature of the, i. 205; knowledge of, appendices
to, i. 206.
Sound, carried farther on water than land, ii. 36 ;
reasons for inquiring into the theory of, iii. 535 of
3C
578
INDEX.
its generation and the first percussion, iii. 535;
whether its form is any local and perceptible motion
of the air, iii. 535 ; three experiments wherein
sound is generated contrarily to the perceptible mo-
tion of the air, iii. 536 ; is generated by percus-
sions, iii. 536 ; air required for its generation,
iii, 536 ; whether flame would suffice instead of air,
iii. 536 ; lasting of, and its perishing, iii. 537 ;
confusion and perturbations of sounds, iii, 537 ;
compared with light, why many visiblcs seen at
once do not confound one another, and many
sounds heard at once do, iii. 537 ; of the variety of
bodies yielding it, instruments producing it, iii. 540 ;
species of sounds, iii. 540 ; circumstances regulating
the pitch in various sonorous bodies, iii. 540;
multiplication, majoration, diminution, and fraction
of, iii. 540; time in which its generation, extinction,
and transmission, are effected, iii. 543 ; less quick-
ly transmitted than light, iii. 543 ; of its affinity
with the motion of the air in which it is carried,
iii. 543 ; aids and impediments of, slay of, iii, 538 ;
diversity of mediums of, iii. 538 ; and hearing,
history and first inquisition of, iii. 535 ; commu-
nion of the air percussed with the ambient air and
bodies, iii. 544 ; penetration of, iii. 538 ; whether
heard under water, iii. 538 ; whether it can be
generated except there be air between the percuss-
ing and percussed body, iii. 538 ; carriage, direc-
tion, and spreading of the area it fills, iii. 539; com-
pared with light, the former may be conveyed in
curved lines, iii. 539.
Sounds, water may be the medium of, ii. 107 ; passage
and interception of, ii. 37 ; mixture of, ii. 38 ; ma-
joration of, ii. 31 ; the motion of, ii. 36; how the
figure through which sounds pass vary the, ii. 38 ;
melioration of, ii. 39 ; spiritual and fine nature of,
ii. 44 ; do not make impressions on air, ii, 44 ; the
reflection of, ii, 40 ; generation and perishing of,
ii. 44 ; antipathy or sympathy of, ii. 43 ; imitation
of, ii. 39 ; causes of variation in, ii. 38 ; conserva-
tion and dilatation of, ii, 28 ; nullity and entity of, ii.
26 ; exility and damps of, ii. 29 ; dilatation of, ii.
29; created without air, ii. 29; carriage of, to
distance, ii. 32 ; quality and inequality of, ii. 32 ;
communication of, ii. 32 ; loudness or softness of,
ii. 32 ; go farthest in the forelines, ii. 36 ; the
medium of, ii. 37 ; lasting and perishing of, ii. 36 ;
in inanimate bodies, ii. 35 ; exterior and interior,
ii, 34 ; in waters, ii, 33 ; different sorts of, ii. 24 ;
strange secret in, ii. 35 ; and air, ii. 28 ; motion of,
ii. 28 ; cause of, ii. 8 ; cold weather best for, ii. 39,
Southampton, Earl of, his examination after his
arraignment, ii. 373 ; confession of, ii. 352.
Southern wind, healthfulness of the, ii. 106,
Sovereignty, of the king's, ii. 276.
Spalato, Archbishop, Bishop Andrews's opinion of
him, i. 121.
Spaniards, ill success of their encounters with the
English, ii. 200, 207; their attacks upon England,
ii. 206 ; where they once get in they will seldom
be got out, an erroneous observation, ii. 200, 213;
seem wiser than they are, i. 33 ; do not naturalize
liberally, i. 37 ; proud, and therefore dilatory, ii,
195 ; their ill successes, ii, 200,
Spain, alliance with, no security against its ambition,
ii. 214; speech of a counsellor of state to the
king of, ii. 214; Queen Elizabeth's subjects refuge
in, and conspire against her person, ii. 215 ; report
iHi the grievances of the merchants of ii. 193;
notes of a speech concerning a war with, ii. 199 ;
considerations touching a war with, ii. 201 ; com-
parison of the state ol' England and Spam in 158**,
ii. 212; king of, endeavours to alienate the King
of Scotland from Queen Elizabeth, ii. 216; solicits
an English nobleman to rise against hei, ii. 216;
endeavours to take her life by violence of poison,
ii. 216.
Sparta, jealous of imparting naturalization to their
confederates, ii. 155; the evil effects of it, ii. 155;
the surprise of Thebes by Phcebidas drew a war to
the walls of, ii. 202.
Spartan boys, their fortitude, i. 105.
Spartans, of small despatch, i. 32 ; their dislike ol
naturalization the cause of their fall, i, 37 ; their
state wholly framed for arms, i. 38 ; their forti-
tude, i, 46,
Species, visible, experiment touching, ii. 102.
Speculum regale, work touching the death of the
king, ir. 510.
Speech, length and ornament of, to be read for persua-
sion of multitudes, not for information of kings, ii.
142 ; must be either sweet or short, ii. 486 ; arts
of, university lectures on, advice to raise the pension
out of the Sutton Estate, ii. 241 ; in the Star
Chamber against Sir H. Yelverton, ii. 525 ; on
grievances of commons, ii. 272 ; to Sir William
Jones, Lord Chief Justice of Ireland, ii. 476 ; on
taking place in chancery, ii. 471 ; to Justice Hut-
ton, ii. 478 ; to Sir J. Denham, on his being made
Baron of the Exchequer, ii. 477.
Speeches, hurt done to men by their, i. 24 ; long
speeches not fit for despatch, i. 32 ; differences be-
tween speech and thought, i. 34 ; of a man's self
ought to be but seldom, i. 40 ; better to deal by
speeches than letter, i. 53 ; the three forms of
speaking which are the style of imposture, i. 70 ;
notes of, on a war with Spain, ii. 199; on the natu-
ralization of the Scotch, ii. 150; on the union of
laws with Scotland, ii. 158 ; on the post-nati of Scot-
land, ii. 166 ; drawn up for the Earl of Essex, ii. 533.
Spencer, Hugh, his banishment, and the doctrine of
the homage due to the crown then expressed,
ii. 178.
Statement, legitimate motle of, iii. 534
Sphynx, or science, i. 309.
Spiders, the poison of great, ii. 318 ; and flies get a
sepulchre in amber, iv. 66.
Spirit, of wine, with water, ii. 465 ; coTicerning the
mode of expansion of matter in, ii. 569 ; of the
earth, i. 311 ; of man and of nature, how differing,
i.211.
Spirit-s, wine for the, ii. 466 ; bracelets to comfort, ii.
132 ; medicines that relieve the, ii. 99 ; transmission
of, ii. 124 ; emission of, in vapour, ii. 126, flight of,
upon odious objects, ii. 107 ; evacuation of, ii. 92 ;
next to God, i. 175.
Sponge and water, weight of, ii. 464.
Sponges, the growth of, ii. 94.
Spots of grease, how to take out, ii. 22.
Sprat's notice of Bacon, i. 278.
Springs, where generated, ii. 10 ; their powerfu'
qualities, ii. 462 ; on high hills the best, ii. 58.
Sprouting of metals, ii. 461, 462.
St. John, Mr. Oliver, charge against, for slander,
ii. 303.
St. Paul, speech of himself and his calUng, i. 57 ; the
use of his learning, i. 176 ; his admonition against
vain philosophy, i. 163.
Stag, bone sometimes in the heart of a, ii. 101.
Stage, allusion to the writers for, in Queen E]iz»<
beth's time, ii. 307 ; beholden to love, i. 18
Stanching of blood, experiment on, iL 18
INDEX,
679
Stanford, Sir William, rrports of, ii. S02.
Star Chamber, aii;aiimt levyinj? damai^cs, ii. ."ilS;
spceoh in the, ii. 475; decree apair.st <iuel8, ii. 300 ;
forfeitures of the, ii. 388 ; its severity in suppressing
force and fraud, ii. 'Zb'.i; formalities in, ii. 343,
Star, what is meant hy the opinion that it is the
denser part of its own sphere, ii. .')84.
Stars, their beams have no heat, i. 100; old ones, not
true tliat they are not subject to chance, ii. 582 ;
q\iestioti resjieclini; the substance of, ii. .')85 ; whe-
ther kept ahve by sustentation. ii. 587 ; whether
increased or lessened, generated, extinguished, ii.
587 ; whether, during long lapses of ages, stars are
produced and decomposed, ii. 586 ; should be in-
quired whether give light of themselves, or whether
received from the sun, ii. 586 ; whether that be
the true number of them which is visible, ii. 588 ;
what are the real dimensions of each star, ii. 588 ;
what data there are for determining them, ii. 588 ;
true distances of, for determining, if possible, if not
comparative should be ascertained, ii. 689.
Statute, reading on the, iii. 295.
Statesmen, government most prosperous under learn-
ed, i. 165 : the greatest have not only seemed but
been religious, i. 70 ; those who ascribe ail things
to their own cunning have been counterfeit, i. 71.
Stale of Europe, i. 282 ; maxims in, that ail countries
of new acquest till settled are rather matters of
burden than strength, ii. 212 ; the just estimate
of the power of a state subject to error, and that
error sul)ject to perilous consequences, ii. 222 ;
greatne.-^s of, ii. 222,228; (see Greu/ness ,•) con-
tained in the two words, prasmium and poena,
ii. 189.
States, embassies to foreign, ii. 382.
Statue, metal, ii. 456.
Stature and growth, acceleration of, ii. 53.
Statute of Carlisle, ii. 506.
Statutes, accumulation of, create uncertainty in law,
ii. 2:M ; the reformation of, consists of four parts,
ii. 233 ; suggestion for the reform and recompiling
of. ii. 233; for repeal of, touching Scotland whilst
the kingdoms stood severed, ii. 233.
Stephen's remarks on the publication of the apoph-
thegms, i. 10.
Ster(!oration. help of ground, ii. 79.
Steward, Dr., letter concerning, from Buckingham to
Lord Chancellor Bacon, ii. 525.
Stillicides of water, ii. 10.
Stillatories, compression of vapours in, ii. 10.
Stilpo, saying of him, i. 120.
Stoboeus's apophthegms draw much dregs, i. 107.
Stoics, their bravery in seeking to extinguish anger,
ii. 59.
Stomach, the nature of appetite in the, ii. 112; a
secret for the, ii. 472 ; a manus Christi, for the,
ii. 470.
Sione, in man's body, ii. 463 ; in a toad's head, ii.
463; elder flowers proper for the, ii. 91; herbs
which grow out of. ii. 76 ; receipt for cure of, ii.
470 ; weight of, in water, ii. 464 ; exudation of
some are diamonds, ii. 7.
Stores of tackling, laying up, ii. 383,
Straining water, dilTerence where the water rises or
falls, ii. 7,
Strawberries, how to accelerate the growth of, ii, 60,
Stnng-metal, ii. 456.
Strings, sounds of different, ii. 32; tones of different
sizes of, ii. 33.
Stroud's case, ii. 507.
Strumpet, matter ia like a common, ii. 109.
Studies. Bct hours proper for, not agreeable, i. 45 ; ewiay
on, 55 ; their use, i, 55 ; they teach nut their own
use, i. 55.
Studies of learned men, discredit to learned from, i, 166
Study, mode of, adopted by Queen Elizabeth, i. 179.
Stutting, ex|)eriment touching ii, 57,
Style of the king, suggestions relating to, ii. 145.
Style of religious controversy, ii. 413.
Style of delivery, i. 214.
Style, not to l)C neglected in philosophy, i, 170.
Styptic to stay fluxes, ii, 407,
Styx, or league, i. 289; to swear by the sacrament of
the anrienU, i. 289.
Suarez, his treasonable letter, ii. 390.
Sublimation of metals, ii. 461, 462.
Subsidies, statutes of, ii. 280.
Subsidy, speech on the motion of a, ii. 286.
Substances, hard ones in the bodies of living creatures,
ii. 100.
Subdivision of labours, its produce on the mind, i. 86.
Subordinate magistrates, ii. 293.
Succession to the crown, instances where they wero
not declared, ii. 251.
Succession, hereditary, ii. 424.
Suckling. Sir John, ii. 526.
Suffocations, the most dangerous diseases in the body,
and also in the mind, i. 33.
Sugar, where found, ii. 82 ; experiment touching, ii.
116; with oil of almonds, ii. 466.
Suggestion and preparation, i. 209.
Suit, demurrers for discharging the, ii. 482 ; pleas for
di.scharging, ii. 482.
Suitors, to a minister, advice how to behave towards,
ii. 376 ; essay on, i. 54 ; different motives for under-
taking suits, i. 54 ; in the courts of chancery, ii. 472,
Suits, what sort of, dismissed, ii. 480 ; injunctions for
stay of, ii. 482 ; commission of, advice to the king
for reviving, ii. 520 ; on commissions for charitable
uses, ii. 485.
Sul[)hur, salt, and mercury, separation of, ii. 460.
Sulphur and mercury, experiments on, ii. 53 ; and salt,
history of, iii. 466.
Sulpitius Galba's persuasions for the Romans to war
with the late Philip, King of Macedon, ii. 204.
Summer, great droughts in, ii. 109.
Summary philosophy, its principles, i. 196.
Sun, magnetical of moisture, ii. 19 ; hotter when be-
tween clouds than in the open sky, i. 100 ; pheno*
mena in the year 790, and after the death of Julius
Caesar, ii. 582.
Sun, Venus, Mercury, and the Moon, their relative
situations doubted by the ancients, ii. 579.
Sunbeams, heat by reflection, i. 101 ; collection of,
multiplies heat, L 101 : their effect, i. 101,
Superfoetation, how it comes, ii. 75.
Superficial learning, conceit of, i. 182.
Supernatation of bodies, ii. 107.
Superflexion of echoes, ii. 107.
Superstition, its eflect, i. 46 ; as powerful as custom,
i. 46 ; great oi>ponent to natural philosophy, i, 97 :
essay of, i, 25,
Superstitions and natural causes, i, 188.
Superstitious divination, i. 206.
Suplicavit, upon what granted, ii. 484,
Supply, speech concerning the king's, ii, 281.
Surplice, ii. 426.
Susa, the winter parlour of the King of Persia, n. 228.
Suspicion, essay on, i. 40 ; ignorance, its cause, i. 40.
Sutton, Mr., advice to the king touching his estate de-
vised for founding the Charter House, ii. 239 ; his
hospital, ii. 463
.•)80
INDEX.
Sweat, expenments touching, ii. 95 ; putrefied smell of,
ii. 126; use of restraining, ii. 16.
Sweating sickness, i. 317.
iSweats, of different men, ii. 8 ; cold often mortal, ii, 95.
Swelling and dilatation in boiling, ii. 118.
Swiftness, i. 205.
Swisses, first ruined the Duke of Burgundy, ii. 157,
22G; the ruin of Louis XII.; affairs in Italy in re-
venge of a scorn put upon them by him, ii. 157 —
226 ; in them the authority of iron over gold, ii. 226 ;
the reputation of their arms, ii. 226.
Sylla, reformed the laws of Rome, ii. 234 ; his three
singularities, ii. 234 ; Cicero's attribute to him, ii.
234 ; his friendship to Pompey, i, 34 ; his choice of
a name, i. 46.
Sympathy of mind and body, i. 202.
Sympathy and antipathy, secret virtue of, ii. 132, 134;
of plants, ii. 67 ; of things, iii. 465.
Sympathy, in different parts of the body, ii. 22 ; in-
duration by, ii. 116.
Sympathy of men's spirits, ii. 137,
Syrups, clarifying of, ii. 8.
System, whether there be different centres around the,
theories of Tycho and Galileo, ii. 580; may exist
consistently with opinions that the earth revolves,
and that planets are solid, ii. 576.
Tacitus, i. 233 ; his observation on Augustus Caesar,
i. 161 ; his observation as to the obscurity of learned
men, i. 167; his account of Vibulenus the actor, i.
218 ; his wise opinion, i, 196 ; his character of Ner-
va, i. 177; his exposition of the eastern prophecy
in Vespasian's time, i. 43 ; account of Musianus, i.
57; saying of, changes, ii. 501; his works breathe
more living observation of manners than those of
Aristotle and Plato, ii. 549,
Tackling, a store of, should be laid up against time of
need, ii. 383,
Talbot. William, charge against, ii. 389; his offence,
ii, 389,
Talk, but a tinkling cymbal where there is no love, i. 33,
Taste, experiment toiiching the, ii, 91,
Taxes and imports, several, one of the internal points
of separation with Scotland, ii, 146; considerations
touching them, ii. 148.
Taxes, people overlaid with, not valiant, ii. 165 ; levied
by consent, abate men's courage less, ii. 165.
Teeth, on edge, ii, 30 ; snakes have venomous, ii. 101 ;
experiment touching the tenderness of the, ii. 91 ;
have sense, ii. 101 ; some beasts have no upper, ii.
101; experiment touching hard substances in the
bodies of hving creatures and, ii. 100; marrow of,
ii. 101.
Telesius, touching cold, ii. 19; opinion of, concerning
light in air, ii, 584 ; philosophy of, i, 435.
Tellus, representing base counsellors, i. 288.
Tenison, Archbishop, his opinion of Sapientia Vete-
rum, i. 272 ; his statement of the nature of the es-
says, i. 5 ; his notice of the lives of the Cajsars, i.
284 ; opinion of Playfer, i, 277, 279.
Tensure, motion upon, ii. 8.
Temperance, the virtue of prosperity, i. 14,
Tenures, Low's case of, iii, 276 ; not regal only, ii,
274 ; no spur of honour, ii. 274.
Tenures and wards, speech on, ii. 273.
Terebration of trees, ii, 65,
Territory, greatness too often ascribed to largeness of,
11, 222 ; large countries often rather a burden than
strength, ii. 223 ; illustrated by Alexander and the
Tloman empire, ii. 223 ; greatness of, when it adds
Btrength, ii, 224
' Thales, as he looke<1 on the stars, fell in the water,
saying thereon, i. 111; his theory that water is the
prime element, i, 438 ; his monopoly of olives, ii. 81».
Thebes, invested by Phcebidas insidiously, ii, 202 ; de-
crees on a war even to the walls of Sparta, ii. 202.
Themistocles, pertinent answer of, i. 168; his saying
respecting the difference between speech and thought,
i. 34 ; his speech on being asked to touch a lute, i,
36 ; made Xerxes quit Greece by a false report, i,
62 ; saying and reply of his, i. 109, 115, 118.
Theodosius, saying of, ii. 473 ; his answer to a suitor,
i. 114.
Theogenes, his moral verses, iii, 222,
Theology, natural, the contemplation of God in his
creatures, i, 194.
Theological tracts, ii. 405.
Theories and common notions to be done away with,
opinions,'i. 433 ; universal, the invention of, by per-
sons ignorant of particulars, ii. 548 ; of astronomers,
the object of the, ii. 575.
Thomas, St., the largest heart of the school divines, ii.
205; his definition of a just cause of war, ii. 205.
Thorough lights in the world, i. 191.
Thorpe's case, observations upon, ii. 527,
Thoughts accord with inclination, i. 45 ; men who
place their thoughts without themselves not fortu-
nate, i.'46 ; on the nature of things, i. 406,
Thunder, the Grecians, who first gave the reason of it,
condemned of imfiiety, i, 97,
Throne, supported by justice and mercy, ii, 380,
Thuanus, as to Pope Julius's coin, ii, 390.
Tiberius,!. 208, 233. 294; his death, i. 12; dissimu-
lation attributed to him by Livia, i. 14,
Tiberius Caesar, his fiieiidship for Sejanus, i. 34; hia
prophecy of the empire to Galba, i, 43.
Ticinum, church at, in Italy, ii. 107,
Tigranes, his speech respecting the small number of
the Roman army, i. 36.
Tillage, encouragement of, ii. 384.
Titiilation, experiment touching, ii. 103.
Timber, how to try, ii. 87 ; as to the planting of, ii. 384.
Timber trees, touching the growth of, ii. 66.
Time, its operation in promoting discovery and inven-
tion, i. 431 ; masculine birth of, i. 223.
Time seems to resemble a stream, i. 173,
Time, Grecian orators' saying concerning, ii. 292 ; con-
trary operation of on fruits and liquors, ii. 119; the
greatest innovator, i. 32 ; innovaleth quietly, i. 32 ;
the measure of business, i. 32 ; iterating often the
state of the question a gain of, i. 32 ; like a river, i.
85, 99.
Time and heat, like operations of, ii. 4.5.
Time and fire, differitig operations of, ii. 45,
Times, the present are the ancient, i. 172 ; iii, 3.58;
will facilitate reformation of religion in Ireland,
ii. 191.
Timoleoii, Plutarch's saying of his fortunes, 47, 77.
Timotheus's denial of fortune's aid. i. 46.
Tin, the ancient alloy of gold, ii. 459.
Tin and copper, mixture of, ii. 456,
Tin and silver, mixture of, ii. 456.
Tincture of metals, how, ii. 460, 461.
Tinoco, Manuel Louis, sworn to secrecy, and charged
to confer with Lopez and Ferrera respecting the poi-
soning of Queen Elizabeth, ii. 218; confers with
Ferrera. ii. 218; sent back with a short answer by
Lopez, ii. 219; sends letters by the name of De
'J'hores to Lopez, ii. 219; comes over with a resolu-
tion from Spain, ii. 220 ; his letters from De Fuentes
to Ferrera won from him, in which mentior. was
made of the queen's death, ii. 220; his CA>nfes<;ion,
INDEX.
081
K. 220 ; avouching to Lopez on his arraignment,
ii. 220.
Tipping's case, ii. 522.
Tirrcl, Sir Jarnns, his account of the murder of the
[irinccs in the Tower, i. 349.
Tithes, ii. 430; cause of, before Lord Chancellor Ba-
ron, ii. .522.
Tithonus, or satiety, i. 298.
TithonuB and Aurora, fable of, i. 298.
'J'itles of the Kornan emperors, ii. 266.
Titus Livius, observation of, on the poverty in the Ro-
man state, L 167.
Toad's head, stone in, ii. 1 33 ; stone engendered in,
ii. 46.3.
Tobacco, uses of, ii. 127; melioration of, ii. 117.
Toleration warrantable by religion, and necessary to
recover the hearts of the Irish, ii. 189.
Tones, different sorts of, ii. 24 ; bass and treble, experi-
ment on, ii. 33 ; proportions of, ii. 34 ; as to pro-
ducing sleep by, ii. 26.
Tongue, experiment touching the, ii. 91.
Tongues, vehicula scientiffi, i. 176.
Touchiug Lady Vernon's case, ii. 523.
Tough and fragile bodies, ii. 1 14.
Tough and brittle metals, ii. 461.
Torture, of the laws the worst, i. 58.
Tournays not lawful without the king's license, ii. 302.
Tournies, their glories chiefly in the chariots, i. 45.
Towers in Solomon's house, i. 266.
Tracts, relating to, ii. 496 ; relating to commendams,
ii. 488.
Tracy slain, ii. 359.
Trade, home and foreign, ii. 384; conjectures for the
good of, ii. 386.
Tradition, magistral, and not ingenuous, i. 173.
Tragacanth gum, dissolution of, ii. 465.
Trajan, sayings of his, i. 113, 114; name given him
by Constantine, i. 113.
Translation of psalms, ii. 431.
Transmutation of metals, ii, 461, 462.
Transmutation of air into water, ii. 10.
Tranquillity of Elizabeth, ii. 445.
Travel, essay of, i. 26.
Treacle, use of, by Mithridatcs, ii. 324.
Treason, statute of, 25 Edward IIL, ii. 313; concern-
ing high, ii. 291 ; punishment, trial, and proceedings
in cases of, ii. 162 ; cases of misprision of, ii. 162 ; of
petit, ii. 162; charge against Mr. Owen for, ii. 313.
Treasons, stat. of 25 Edward IIL, ii. 512.
Treasure of the crown of England, ii. 228.
Treasure, greatness too often ascribed to, ii. 222, 225 ;
adds greatness to a state when accompanied with
valour, when it is rather in mediocrity than abun-
dance, ii. 226 ; when it is the greatest strength to the
state, ii. 227.
Treble and bass strings, sounds of, ii. 33.
Trees, different soils for, ii. 87; gum is the juice
straining through, ii. 7 ; melioration of, ii. 62 ; pro-
cevity and dwarfing of, ii. 73.
Trees and herbs, experiment touching the lasting of,
ii. 78.
Trial, the arrest of the ship so named in Sicily by the
Spaniards, ii. 196.
Triumph, among the Romans, a noble institution, i.
38 ; essay on masques and, i. 44.
Troubles and sedition, essay of, i. 22.
Trumpet, metal, ii. 456.
Truth, essay of, i. 1 1 ; Democritus's opinion of, i. 122 ;
force of, i. 182.
Turkish emperor's censure of duels, ii. 298.
Turks their cause of war, i. 38; their religion an im-
pediment to knowledge, I. 95 ; there must be a dia*
solution of their state when their martial virtue shall
be further relaxed, ii. 225 ; thi ir religion, ii. 4."JH ;
Christians had always sufhcierit ground for just war
against them, not for religion, but upon a just fear,
ii. 204 ; their government, ii. 439 ; war against,
ii. 439,
Tutelage, law of, ii. 274.
Tyana, Apollonius of, ii. 124.
Typhoii, i. 287.
Tyrants, diffeicnt sorts of, ii. 391.
Tyrone, the arch-traitor, ii. 319.
Tyrone and OdonncH's endeavour to rescue Kinsaie,
ii. 211.
TltcEns, judgment of the cure of. ii. 106
Ulster, suggestion to add the earldom of to the Prince
of Wales's titles, ii. 185.
Ulysse-s, i. 313; his constancy, i. 16; his preference
of custom before excellency, i. 181.
Undertakers, different sorts of, ii. 269 ; speech on,
ii. 13.
Understanding, the, produces decrees, i. 206 ; division
of, 1. Invention, 2. Judgment, 3. Memory, 4. Tradi-
tion, ii. 207 ; division of learning among the three
parts of the, i. 187; the, is the highest part of the
mind. i. 182.
Unguent, Roman, receipt for, Ii. 469.
Unison and diapason, ii. 25.
Union with Scotland, discourses on the. ii. 138 ; articles
and considerations touching, ii. 142 ; certificate or
return of the commissioners of, ii. 149 ; Sir Francis
Bacon's speech, in the House of Commons, concern-
ing the general naturalization of the Scottish nation,
ii. 150; touching the uni.>n of laws with Scotland
ii. 158; preparation towards, ii. 160.
Union, discourse of the happy, between England and
Scotland, ii. 138 ; certain articles touching, collected
and dispersed for his majesty's better service, ii. 142
Union of England and Scotland, ii. 452, 454 ; with
Scotland, ii. 383.
Union between all men, ii. 443.
Union, of flint and iron, ii. 455; of brass and iron, iu
456 ; force of, ii. 22.
Unity of belief and worship, ii. 412.
Universities, their orders and customs contrary to
science, i. 98 ; studies there confixed to certain au-
thors, i. 98 ; prejudiced, ii. 415; defect of, the sys-
tems in, i. 186; logic and rhetoric too early taught
in, i. 186; dedications of, to professions, only injuri-
ous to states, i. 185; uses and defects of, i. 184;
dedicated to professions, i. 185 ; want of experiments
in, i. 186; neglect in governors of, of consultation
and of superiors of visitation, i. 186 ; want of in-
quiries into unlaboured parts of learning, i. 186;
amendment of defects of, i. 186, 187; want of mu-
tual intelligence between, i. 186.
Universality, men have abandoned, i. 173.
Urban the Second, Pope, to Godfrey, ii. 315.
Urbin, Duke of, the injustice of his wai against thu
pope did not destroy his right to recover Urbin,
ii. 203.
Usages, in the time of their beginning ought to be con-
sidered, i. 186.
Use of the law, iii. 247.
Uses, reading on the statute of, iii. 295 ; cases ot revo-
cation of, iii. 280.
Uses of incorporation of metals, ii. 456.
Usury, laws against, i. 333 ; the most certain, though
one of the worst means of gain, i. 42 ; ploughs on
Sundays, i. 42, 47; essay on, i. 47; is a concessum
3c 2
182
INDEX.
propter duritiem cordis, i. 47; its discommodities
and commodities, i. 47 ; all states have had it, i. 47 ;
none such as that of improving lands, ii. 387.
VncuuM, whether it exists at all, theory of, ii, 578.
Vain-glory, essay on, i. 57.
Valerius 'I'erminus, a rudiment of the advancement of
learning, i. 8 ; on the interpretation of nature, i.
81.
Vanities in studies, i. 169.
Vanity of matter is worse than vain words, i. 170.
Vanity in apparel should be avoided, ii. 3fe6.
Valour, and military disposition, greatness too often
ascribed to, ii. 222 ; of the Spaniard lieth in the eye
of the looker on, ii. 222 ; English about the soldier's
heart, ii. 213; of glory and of natural courage are
two things, ii. 213.
Vapour, of charcoal, dangerous, n. 127; emission of
spirits in, ii. 126.
Vatican, scarce a very fair room in it, i. 50.
Venetians, their sharing [)art of the duchy of Milan
a cause of much loss to them, ii. 202 ; confederacy
against their power, ii. 205 ; their fear of the
Spaniards sharpened by their enterprise upon the
Valtoline and the Palatinate, ii. 213, 214.
Vegetables and metals, mixture of, ii. 459.
Vegetables in the mines of Germany, ii. 76.
Velleius's ironical propensity to be avoided, i. 174.
Venice, remark of a Spanish ambassador, on seeing
their treasury of St. Mark, ii. 201, 213.
Ventriloquism, ii. 40.
Venus and Mercury, a question which is higher than
the other, ii. 580 ; Venus, change of its colour in
the reign of Ogyges, and in 1578, ii. 582.
Venus, i. 299 ; danger of abstinence to certain natures,
ii. 92; experiments touching, ii. 91; when men
most inclined to, ii. 92.
Vercelles in Savoy, the Spaniards leave it, ii. 200.
Vermilion, how made, ii. 461.
Vernon, Lady, her case before the Lord Chancellor
Bacon, ii. 523.
Vere, Sir Francis, his private commentary of the
service in the Low Countries and of the battle of
Newport, ii. 2 1 1 ; the direction of the army that
day transmitted to him by the Prince of Orange, ii.
211.
Vere, Sir Horace, his service at the battle of Newport,
ii.211.
Verge, subjects within jurisdiction of the, ii. 290.
jurisdiction of, ii. 290; charges judicial upon the
commission for the, ii. 289 ; description of the, ii.
290.
Versatility of mind, i. 235.
Version of metals, ii. 459.
Version of air into water, ii. 10.
Vespasian, his speech to Domitian, i. 112; his death,
i. 12; Mucianus's encouragement to him to take
arms against Vitellius, i. 14 ; Tacitus's character of
him, i. 20 ; saying of, i. 110, 117.
Vibulenus, the actor, his device, i. 218.
Vice avowed is least to be feared, i. 175.
Vicious men, not so dangerous as half-corrupt, i. 175.
Vicious precepts, i. 237.
Vicissitude of things, essay on, i. 60.
Villiers', Sir George, letters to Ireland, ii. 190, 191;
advice to, in the station of prime minister, ii. 375 ;
letter to, on Somerset's arraignment, ii. 330 ; letter
of, to Sir F. Bacon, concerning Lord Chief Justice
Coke, ii. 498 ; letter to, about the Earl of Somerset,
ii. 326 ; letter to, on Lady Somerset's pardon, ii.
331 ; letter to, ii. 491; F. Bacon to, touching Sir
R. Cotton, ii. 515; letter to, upon Somerset's trial,
ii. 518.
Vinegar, experiment touching, ii. 123 ; virtue of, ii.
127.
Vinegar with spirits of wine, ii. 465.
Vines, grafting of, upon vines, ii. 88; on making them
more fruitful, ii. 13.
Vineyard, the arrest of the ship so named in Sardinia,
by the Spaniards, ii. 196.
Viol and lute, use of the perforations made in them,
iii. 544.
Violets, what an infusion of good for, ii. 9.
Virginal string, sound of, ii. 8.
Virginia and Summer Islands, ii. 285.
Virgil, his saying respecting courage, i. 36 ; his charac-
ter of ancient Italy, i. 37 ; prophecy of the Roman
empire, i. 43 ; his Georgics, i. 219; his separation
between policy and government, and arts and
sciences, i. 164 ; his opinion of causes and conquests
of all fears, i. 182.
Virtue would lanquish without glory and honour,
i. 73.
Virtues of bishops, ii. 414.
Virtues, private, improved by learning, i. 181 ; their
multiplication rests upon well ordained societies, i.
46 ; overt virtues bring forth praise, but there are
secret virtues that bring forth fortune, i. 46 ; best
in a comely body, i. 48 ; praise the reflection of, i.
56 ; receives its due at the second hand, i. 57 ; called
by the epicures bonum theatrale, i. 73 ; the answer
to that, i. 73.
Visibles and audibles, consent and dissent between,
ii. 41.
Vitellius undone by a fame scattered by Mucianus,
i. 62.
Vitrification of earth, ii. 21.
Vitrification of metals, ii. 461, 462.
Vitriol, commixed with oil of cloves, ii, 465 ; sprouts
with moisture, ii. 81.
Vivification, nature of, ii. 92.
Voice, divine, above the light of nature, i. 329.
Voices of eunuchs and children, ii. 33.
Volatility and fixation of metals, ii. 461, 462.
Vorstius, the heretic, ii. 46.
Vulcan, compared with flame, ii. 12; a second nature
working compendiously, i. 195.
Waade, lieutenant of the Tower, removed, ii. 324.
Wales, prince of, ii. 381.
Wales, prince of, Henry, letter to, in 1612, with the
third edition of the essays, i. 3.
Wails, stone ones unwholesome, ii. 128.
Walsingham, Mr. Secretary, good intelligence received
in his time, ii. 215.
Wandering mind fixed by mathematics, i. 199.
War, its true sinews, ii, 157, 225; generally causes
of poverty and consumption, ii, 201 ; requisites to a
successful war, ii. 199, 202; defensive wars for
religion are just, ii. 202 ; unjust ofl'ensive wars, evil
eflects of, illustrated by the insidious surprisal of
Thebes by the LacediEmonians, ii. 202 ; and by the
Venetians sharing Milan, ii. 202; a voluntary
offensive war turned to a necessary defensive war,
becomes just, ii. 203; fear a sufficient ground of
preventive war, ii. 203 — 205; many illustrations
of it, ii. 203 — 205 ; a secret war is ever between
all states, ii. 204; multis utile helium, ii. 227 ; re-
quisites for, typified, i. 293 ; law ful cause of. i. 27 ;
warlike people love danger better than travail, i. 38;
religious questions on, ii. 444 ; holy, advertisement
touching, ii. 436; holy, extent of, ii. 440 ; holy, iL
INDEX.
588
435; to disseminate Christianity, ii. 440; on pirates,
li. 442 ; against Turks, ii, 438 ; on an invasive, ii.
288; keeping fit men reaJy for, ii. 384; as to pro-
viding against, ii. 384 ; to propagate (^'liristianity,
ii. 439 ; on behalf of a party not justifiable, i. 38 ;
a just, the true exercise to a kingdom, i. 38 ; en-
couragnmcnt of warriors greater among the ancients
than the moderns, i. 39.
War and peace, the crown invested with an absolute
power of making, ii. 197; petitions in Parliament
intermeddling with, receive small success, ii. 197;
several precedents thereof, ii. 197, 108.
Wars, not entered upon unless upon some at least
specious ground, i. 38 ; vicissitudes in, i. 61 ; moved
from east to west, i. 61 ; arise from the breaking
of a great state, i. 61 ; foreign, neither just nor
fit, ii. 383 ; diflerent sorts, ii. 383 ; no massacres,
but the highest trials of right between princes, ii.
242 ; nothing in them ought to be done against the
law of nations, ii. 242.
War with Spain, notes of a speech on, ii. 199; con-
siderations touching, ii. 201.
Ward, when a woman shall be out of, ii. 489.
Wards and tenures, speech on, ii. 273.
Wards, care of, by the king, ii. 276 ; directions for the
masters of the, ii. 275.
Warren's, Sir VV., conference with Tyrone, ii. 351.
Warts, how removed, ii. 135.
Warbeck, see Perkin Warbeck,
Warwick, Earl of, see Plantagenet.
Warham, Dr., his speech to "the Archduke Philip, i.
350.
Washing, soft water best for, ii. 58.
Waste, injunctions against, ii. 481 ; case of impeach-
ment of, iii. 268.
Water, salt, experiments on, ii. 7 ; oysters fattened by
fresh, ii. 94 ; sea-fish put into fresh, ii. 94 ; into
crystal, congealing, ii. 54 ; turns to crystal, ii. 463 ;
in a glass, weight of, ii. 464; of Nilus sweet,
ii. 103; aptness to corrupt or putrefy, ii. 109;
practice of getting fresh, in Barbary, ii. 7; stilli-
cidcs of, ii. 10; sand better than earth for strain-
ing, ii. 7 ; clarifying, ii. 8 ; dulcoration of salt,
ii. 121 ; rising, loses its saltness sooner than by
fulling in straining, ii. 7; turning into ice, ii. 10
boiling of, to different heats, ii. 90; working of,
upon air, contiguous, ii. 119; version of, into
air, ii. 21 ; version of air into, ii. 10; that it may
be the medium of sounds, ii. 107; Methusalem,
use of, ii. 467 ; a great nourisher, ii. 86 ; Pinda-
rus's true parable, the best thing is water, ii.
234 ; goodness and choice of, ii. 58 ; Caesar's
knowledge of digc;ing for, ii. 7 ; theory ofThales,
that it is the prime element, discussed, i. 438.
Water-cresses, friendly to life, ii. 53.
Waters, colour of different, ii. 120; metalline, ii. 21 ;
sounds in, ii. 33.
Watery vapours, drawn by wool and cloves, ii. 20.
Wax, mixture of dissolved, ii. 465.
Weapons, vicissitudes in, i. 61.
Weather-glass, contracting of air in the, ii. 10.
Weather, prognostics and signs of, ii. 89.
Wedlock hinders men from great designs, i. 16.
Weeks, Jack, saying of his, i. 125.
Weight, experiment touching, ii. 106; separation of
liquids by, ii. 8 ; air and water, experiments made
about, ii. 464 ; separation of bodies by, ii. 8 ; increase
of, ineaith, ii. 100 I
Weights of bodies in water, uses to which the know-
ledge of, applied, ii. 463; in water, experiments on, |
iL 463. I
I Welsh judges, ii. 379.
I Wells on the sea-shore, ii. 7.
Wens and corns, how removed, ii. 136.
Wentworth, Sir John, charge against, for scandal,
ii. 307.
West Indies, cannibals in the, ii. 10.
Weston, confession of, ii. 317.
Whelps, time they are in the womb, ii. 102.
Whey, mixture of, with oil of vitriol, ii. 463.
Whispering, mterior sour)d, ii. 34.
Whispering wall at Gloucester, ii. 30.
Whitehead's answer to Queen Elizabeth, i. 122.
Whitelock, Mr., pardoned, ii. 509 ; charge against,
ii. 508.
Whiteness, directions to produce it, i. 89; in snow or
froth, how formed, i. 197.
Wildfire, materials of, ii. 106.
Wilford, Ralph, personates the Earl of Warwick, i. 370.
Willymott, Dr., specimen of his tratislation of the
Latin edition of the Essays, i 6.
Will of man, i. 218 ; produces actions, i. 206 ; obedient,
and admits medicines to alter it, i. 105.
Winch, Sir Humphrey, ii. 477.
Winchester, Bishop of, Lord Bacon's letter to, concern-
ing his essays, i. 4.
Wind, the healthfulness of the southern, ii. 108 ;
gathering of, for freshness, ii. 105; eflTect of, on
plants, ii. 87 ; a perennial east wind within the tro-
pics, iii. 526 ; in Europe, east wind, why sharp and
dry, and south-west humid, iii. 526.
Wind furnace, its use in se[)arating metals, ii. 460.
Winds, effect of, on men's bodies, ii. 57 ; inquisition
concerning the winds, iii. 438; names of, iii. 440;
free, iii. 441 ; general, iii. 441 ; stayed or certain,
iii. 442 ; customary or attending, iii. 443 ; the quali-
ties and powers of, iii. 444; local begiimings of, iii.
447; accidental generations of iii. 449; extraordi-
nary winds and sudden blasts, iii. 449 ; helps to
original, iii. 450 ; the bounds of, iii. 452 ; succes-
sions of, iii. 452 ; the motion of the, iii. 453 ; mo-
tion of, in the sails of ships, iii. 455 ; motion of, in
other engines of man's invention, iii. 457 ; prognos-
tics of, iii. 458; imitations of, iii. 461; movable
rules concerning, iii. 462; a human map, or opta-
tives, with such things as are next to them concern-
ing, iii. 463.
Windsor, the alms knights of, opinion of their institu-
tion, ii. 240.
Wine, experiments touching the correcting of, ii.
250; separates from water, if strained through ivy-
wood, ii. 7; spirits of, mixed with wafer, ii. 465;
help or hurt of, moderately used, ii. 98 ; for the
spirits, ii. 466 ; against adverse melancholy, ii. 466.
Wings of Icarus, ii. 335.
Winter, touching creatures who sleep all, ii. 123;
effi^t on attractive properties of different bodies,
ii. 466.
Winters, prognostics of hard, ii. 99.
Wisdom and power, difference between, apparent in
the creation, i. 174.
Wisdom, an example of, i. 176; divine, i. 174; true
knowledge is. i. 174,
Wisdom of the Ancients, i. 271, 285, 174 ; translation
of, by Sir A. Georges, i. 273 ; notice of, in Biogra-
phia Brilannica, i. 272.
Wise, essay of seeming, i. 33; persons that do little
things very solemnly, i. 33 ; wise men ascribe their
virtues to fortune, i. 46 ; use studies, i. 55 ; make
more opportunities than they find, i. 56.
Wit, im^)ediment8 in, may l>c wrought out by fit stu-
dies, i. 55 ; iU better use, to make doubu clear, iL
584
INDEX.
278 ; one of its uses to make clear things Joubtful,
ii. 278.
Wits sharpened by mathematics, i. 199.
Witch, power of, afar off, ii. 131.
Witchcraft not punishable by death, ii. 291.
Wives, i. 16; cruel examples of wives of kings,
i. 27.
Womb, living creatures in the, ii. 101 ; duration of
creatures in the, ii. 102.
Women, government by, ii. 442.
Wonder, effect of, ii. 96.
Wood, Thomas, his declaration, ii. 366.
Wood, shining in the dark, ii. 451 ; as to its growing
hard, ii. 462.
Woodville, Lord, sails to Brittany, i. 329 ; slain in
battle, i. 332.
Wool draweth watery vapour, ii. 20.
Woollen bag, liquor loseth its fatness if strained
through, ii. 7.
Words, i. 232 ; when few best remembered, ii. 478 ;
vain, i. 169.
Works of God, show his omnipotency, but not his
image, i. 19.5.
Works, miscellaneous, ii. 445 ; Bacon's account of his,
ii. 436.
W^lrks of God and man, meditations on, i. 67.
Worship of angels, i. 195.
Worship and belief, unity of, ii. 412.
Wotton, Sir Henry, his saying of critics, i. 111.
Wounds, experiment touching, ii. 106; on the healing
of, ii. 89.
Writ, of " ne exeat regnum," ii. 494.
Writs, of privilege, ii. 4S4; de rege inconsulto, ii. 514'
what pass under Lord Chancellor's hand, ii. 484
as to the return day of, ii. 484.
Writing, i. 212; makes an exact man, i. 55.
Wyrthington, Edward, Sir F. Bacon's commendation
of him to be attorney-general for Ireland, ii. 191.
Xeistophox, a great scholar and general, i. 164; an ex-
ample of military greatness and learning, i. 181 ; his
mode of feeding Persian children, ii. 53.
Ximenes, Cardinal, saying of his, i. 110.
Yawnixg, takes off the power of hearing, ii. 44 ; ex-
periment touching, ii. 90.
Yelverton, Sir Henry, ii. 498 ; letter to, on a cause of,
tithes, ii. 522; notes of a speech of lord chancellor
in the case of, ii. 525 ; his cause, sentence in, ii.
526 ; to Lord Keeper Bacon, ii. 503.
Year-books, suggestion for the reformation of, ii, 232.
Yolk of eggs, very nourishing, ii. 15.
Young company, old men love, ii. 129.
Youth, the tongue and joints in, pliant and supple, i.
46 ; beauty makes a dissolute, i. 49 ; grains of,
ii. 466.
Youth and age, essay on, i, 48; difference of, iii.511.
Zelim's reason for shaving his beard, i. 120.
Zeno and Socrates, their controversies, i. 220.
Zouch, Lord, his attainder, ii. 318.
Zutphen, ii. 423.
96 76
Bacon, Francis B
Works of Lord Bacon 1154
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